#oh also in other news I went to choir today !

[thursdayg1rl]

just ate a toffee yum yum from Lidl not evil anymore

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today, on 10th December, 1976 - Queen Story!

'A Day At The Races' album released in UK

🔸FREDDIE MERCURY and KENNY EVERETT REVIEW “A DAY AT THE RACES”

CAPITOL RADIO, LONDON – NOVEMBER 1976

INTRO/ Tie Your Mother Down

Kenny Everett: God you’re noisy, Fred!

Freddie Mercury: That’s one of the softer tracks. [Laughs]

Kenny Everett: That track’s called “Tie Your Mother Down” from the new LP called “A Day At The Races”, which is actually ‘teffifico’ and it’s just out in time for Christmas.

Freddie Mercury: Yes, that’s right.

Kenny Everett: Why tie your mother down?

Freddie Mercury: Well this one in fact is a track written by Brian actually, I dunno why. Maybe he was in one of his vicious moods. I think he’s trying to out do me after “Death On Two Legs” actually.

Kenny Everett: I see.

Freddie Mercury: So if he’s listening, folks…

Kenny Everett: Let’s try a nice gentle lilting one now.

Freddie Mercury: Oh this is the ‘real heavy’ one, yes.

Kenny Everett: That’s right. This is one where you sing by yourself, times 35 or something, isn’t it?

Freddie Mercury: Yes, I’ve multi tracked myself on this one.

Kenny Everett: How many of you are there on this one?

Freddie Mercury: Well… what the next one? “You Take My Breath Away”. This one I did myself, I multi tracked myself. So the others weren’t used on this for the voices. I played piano and basically, I don’t know how we managed to stay this simple you know, with all our over dubs and things. People seem to think that we’re over complexed, and it’s not true. It depends on the individual track really, if it needs it – we do it. So this is pretty sparse actually by Queen and our standards.

Kenny Everett: It still sounds like the choirs of Heaven. So here comes Freddie…plus Freddie, plus Freddie…

YOU TAKE: MY BREATH AWAY

Kenny Everett: Hmmm, another classic there that’ll live forever from the lips of Freddie, “You Take My Breath Away” off the new LP. Which there’s space for in you’re Christmas stocking. Freddie.

Freddie Mercury: Yes dear.

Kenny Everett: We’re going to take a break now. We’re going to play a few of our bits ok, is that alright?

Freddie Mercury: Yes.

Kenny Everett: Smashing, back with another track in a sec.

LONG AWAY

Kenny Everett: [Laughter] Hey guys, the mikes on! That’s “Long Away” by Brian May. He does four tracks on your new LP doesn’t he?

Freddie Mercury: Yes he does…

Kenny Everett: I see, can you proliferate?

Freddie Mercury: Which tracks you mean? That’s one of his and “Tie Your Mother Down” was Brian’s. He’s written a lovely Japanese song, which is at the end of the second side. It’s got Japanese verses…

Kenny Everett: What, actual?

Freddie Mercury: Actual Japanese verses which we had to do, we did a lot of research actually and we had our Japanese interpreter. We flew her over from Japan.

Kenny Everett: Actually you should know Japanese off by heart by now, because you’re always there, aren’t you?

Freddie Mercury: Do you want me to say some of them then? [Recites a verse from “Teo Torriatte”].

Kenny Everett: Oh flan flastic! [Applauds] Flerry good, and now we will split for a commercial break. [Laughs]

Kenny Everett: Right, back to the spiffingest LP ever released. Oh what do you think of the new E.L.O.?

Freddie Mercury: Oh it’s great, I’ve got a copy of that. And I know you keep, I keep hearing more of those tracks on your show than anything else.

Kenny Everett: Well…

Freddie Mercury: So I don’t need to play my album, really [Laughs]

Kenny Everett: And also The Eagles, they’re the three for your Christmas stocking, folks. This is me talking to Freddie Mercury of Queen, who must be a millionaire by now, what Freddie?

Freddie Mercury: Oh…in what way?

Kenny Everett: Financially and commercially, I mean you keep buying these paintings and things.

Freddie Mercury: Yes because I like them. Actually it’s what I’ve been interested in a long while, and now that I’ve got a little bit of money to throw around I thought I might as well go and buy it. So I went to Sotheby’s the other day, and got a few paintings. The dealer’s weren’t pleased at all! [Laughs].

Kenny Everett: Actually, you’ve brought champagne with you, which is very good of you.

Freddie Mercury: But of course dear, it travels with me everywhere.

Kenny Everett: You make Gerald Harper look quite cheap. Thank you for that [Laughs]. Usually when I come in here, the place is full of old dead bottles, you know. And green fly…but we’ve made him look peculiar today. Right, “The Millionaire Waltz” which is the next track on the LP, what’s this?

Freddie Mercury: Well it’s all about John Reid actually.

Kenny Everett: You’re manager, well he’ll love all that.

Freddie Mercury: I might as well…

Kenny Everett: It’s a bit gay and weird and strange, but it grows on you.

Freddie Mercury: It’s very out of the Queen format, really and we thought we’d like to do that on every album. I think I went a bid mad on this one. But it’s turned out alright I think, it makes people laugh sometimes.

Kenny Everett: It’s very jolly, let’s have a listen to it.

THE MILLIONAIRE WALTZ

Freddie Mercury: Ooh, lovely! Actually I’d like to say that Brian did do a very good job on the actual guitars. He’s really taken his guitar orchestration to its limits, I don’t know how he’s ever going to out do that one actually. And John played very good bass on that. I think it’s good and we’re patting ourselves on the back again. I really think it’s worked out well especially from the orchestration point of view. Because he’s really used his guitar in a different sort of way, I know he’s done lots of orchestrations before.

Kenny Everett: He’s probably the world’s greatest guitar technician really, isn’t he?

Freddie Mercury: Oh I’d say that dear, absolutely…[mock aristocratic accent]

Kenny Everett: Yes, pass more champagne…[same accent] [Laughs]

Freddie Mercury: Champagne everybody!

YOU AND I

Freddie Mercury: That’s the end of side one of “A Day At The Races”. That was a track by John Deacon, he’s contribution to this album. His songs are good and are getting better every time actually. I’m getting a bit worried actually.

Kenny Everett: He’s the quiet one.

Freddie Mercury: He’s sort of quiet, lots of people think that. Don’t underestimate him, he’s got a fiery streak underneath all that. I talk so much anyway, he like to let me do all the talking. But once people crack that thin ice, then he’s alright. (You can never stop him talking then).

Kenny Everett: You’re all a very shy bunch really, aren’t you?

Freddie Mercury: We are really, actually. I am actually, people don’t seem to realize that. Just because I go around tearing on stage, they think I should go tearing around life, but I’m not really.

Kenny Everett: Good, well done. I’ve said to you once, you must have had a classical up bringing, and you went ‘Ha’! So I dropped that one. [Laughs] But I think you really must have.

Freddie Mercury: I did have in my youth… that’s a couple of years ago. No, when I was about seven years old, I did piano lessons and I did up to grade 4 classical, practical and theory. Then I gave it up, as I basically play by ear really and I can’t sight read at all. So I gave that up and all my playing is done by ear. I can’t read music that well, it takes me a long time.

Kenny Everett: Well how do you work out these amazing harmonies you do?

Freddie Mercury: Well that’s quite easy, yeah. [Laughs] The same as you do! [More laughs] I don’t know, I just have to work at it and after a while you fall into a pattern through experience. I think I’m getting better every year, don’t you?

Kenny Everett: Oh yes.

Freddie Mercury: I learnt a lot from our past albums and things. Seeing how they’re constructed and things, then you use things what you’ve done in the past and work out different things.

Kenny Everett: Oh you’re polishing beautifully, it’s a polished product now. That “You Take My Breath Away”, the harmonies on that are supreme.

Freddie Mercury: They’re nice, I’m very pleased with them.

Kenny Everett: You see – modest. Right, from the polished to…side two. A bit hairy this number, so if you’re a little old lady then please stand back!

WHITE MAN

Kenny Everett: Cor! How did you manage to get such a loud noise on one record?

Freddie Mercury: I don’t know, it’s down to Mike Stone our engineer. We’re very bad in the studio for that actually, the poor engineer has to really suffer because we really want as much level as possible. We keep pushing the phasers up and he keeps looking at the meters and going ‘Oh it’ll never cut’. Then we give him the added task of going over to New York or wherever and saying ‘Make sure that cuts as loud as possible’.

Kenny Everett: Yeah, I should explain for the folks, that if a noise is too loud on a record – the little wobbly groove grundges into the groove next door.

Freddie Mercury: That’s right.

Kenny Everett: Then the record skips…

Freddie Mercury: Yes, it can skip and do all kind of things.

Kenny Everett: So the more noise you put on, the less likelihood you have of…

Freddie Mercury: So if Mary Potts has got a little dance set, then it’ll just go flying off! [Laughs]

Kenny Everett: I must admit, you do get a lot of sound on one little LP.

Freddie Mercury: Yes it’s very difficult to… it’s a very fine dividing line really, because if you want to put in more music – but at the same time you’ve got to make sure you don’t put too much in otherwise it suffers.

Kenny Everett: And you’ve got a genius technician that looks after all of that.

Freddie Mercury: Well Mike Stone is pretty good, yes. That little bugger…

Kenny Everett: Yes… right. [gives out weather report with Freddie laughing and teasing throughout]

Freddie Mercury: What a nice little chap he is. [Laughs]

Kenny Everett: Right here we are in Capitol tower with cuddly Ken and Freddie Mercury, nattering about the new LP. Which also has this track on it.

SOMEBODY TO LOVE

Kenny Everett: So, if you’re planning to but this LP – you get that thrown in as an added goodie. The new number one single in Britain today “Somebody To Love”. Well-done Freddie.

Freddie Mercury: They’ve probably all got their copies by now anyway, so we might as well play something else.

Kenny Everett: Yeah, but the thing is we all had “Sailing” by Rod Stewart and everyone bought it. Then they re-released it and everyone bought it again. Very strange.

Freddie Mercury: Yes, go out and but it again, I’m not complaining. [Laughs]

Kenny Everett: Let’s play a little track off “Sheer Heart Attack” now, because I thought this was one of your tunes, because it’s so wilting.

Freddie Mercury: I thought you’d made a slight mistake earlier on, but this is a track called “Dear Friends”. Taken from our “Sheer Heart Attack” album, it’s written by Brian. I’ve done the vocals on it, but Brian wrote this lovely tune.

Kenny Everett: Well let’s hear this one.

DEAR FRIENDS

Kenny Everett: Very pretty. I didn’t know Brian May wrote that, I thought he was the hairy department.

Freddie Mercury: Yes he does those, he’s very versatile.

Kenny Everett: Ok, this next one is one of yours isn’t it?

Freddie Mercury: Yes, it’s called “Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy”, and it’s in my ‘ragtime’mood that I get a chance to, [Laughs] to do on every album and this time, this is something I’ve come up with this time around.

Kenny Everett: Right, a little frilly number from the pen of Fred.

GOOD OLD-FASHIONED LOVER BOY

Kenny Everett: Right, that was one of Freddie’s tunes. I hear you’re not too pleased with the musical press, Freddie [Laughs] Let’s be outrageous!

Freddie Mercury: It depends, I don’t take much notice to be honest. They can say what they like.

Kenny Everett: I find that they slag everything available, they just don’t say anything nice about anybody.

Freddie Mercury: Not constructive at all. The American press do their homework and the kind of questions they ask you makes much better copy anyway.

Kenny Everett: They pick the good points, and then blazon them all over the place.

Freddie Mercury: It’s more sort of things that are more relevant, I feel anyway. You can tell that they’ve done their homework because they ask you very penetrating questions – which I don’t mind. Because then you know they have some substance because when they write about it, it has much more bearing. But over here, it’s all ‘Why have you stopped wearing black finger nails or whatever…

Kenny Everett: Have you stopped? [Laughs]

Freddie Mercury: Then that’s the review of the album, they haven’t a clue anyway – so [blows a raspberry] to them.

Kenny Everett: Yes [blows a louder raspberry] to them!

Kenny Everett: You keep writing things that are things of beauty that will last forever.

Freddie Mercury: Well I hope so.

Kenny Everett: One day you’re going to come up with an LP that’s going to kill everybody.

Freddie Mercury: I thought we had – this is it!

Kenny Everett: Oh, what have I said! What have I said? [Laughs] I mean just you, I think you’ll come out with the Mercury symphony in E flat or something.

Freddie Mercury: E flat minor actually… well I hope so. There’s time for that I think, I have a lot of ideas bursting to get out.

Kenny Everett: And you’ve got a film…a film?

Freddie Mercury: Yes, we’ve erm [Laughs] He’s no fool this one. He’s a tart, but he’s no fool!

Kenny Everett: I tell you what, let’s go to this one… I’m not a tart – I’m a DJ! [More laughs and teasing from Freddie] Let’s discuss the film after the news and this little track off the new LP “A Day At The Races”, which is dying to dive into you’re Christmas stocking!!

DROWSE

Kenny Everett: That’s a Roger Taylor track, and Roger’s just had a requiem set for his hair – so we’re all in mourning. We’ll be back with some more really great stuff, including their climactic climax to this LP right after the news. So I’ll see you then, right Fred?

Freddie Mercury: Yes dear, see you then.

Kenny Everett: Ok, bye bye ladies and gentlemen.

Kenny Everett: And now here’s Freddie with the weather!

Freddie Mercury: Oh God! He’s just put it in my lap, I can’t believe it! Weather for the Capitol area; It’s dry with long sunny periods, clean spells this evening, cold…

Kenny Everett: CLEAR spells.

Freddie Mercury: Oh, [Laughs] It’s you’re writing! Clear spells – yes that’s right. Clear spells this evening, cold high feel four centigrade…

Kenny Everett: Oh forget it!

Freddie Mercury: Winds light, force two or three… well this is the way you’ve written it. It’s in code, my god! [Laughs] Two or three mostly west to northwest, becoming south to south west later. [More laughs in studio].

Kenny Everett: Are you done?

Freddie Mercury: I’m sure everybody got that.

Kenny Everett: Yeah, I’m sure…

Freddie Mercury: That does it, you wait ‘till you come to the studio next time!

Kenny Everett: Get your calculators out and work out the weather. Right, here it is folks – the climax of this LP “A Day At The Races”, waiting for a place in your Christmas stocking.

TEO TORRIATTE (LET US CLING TOGETHER)

Kenny Everett: That’s the last track off “A Day At The Races”, the new LP by Queen, and if you had your Grundig out, then you should be ashamed of yourself – you’ve just robbed this millionaire of another 18 & 6. [Laughs].

ROCKET MAN – ELTON JOHN

Kenny Everett: Well what was a civilized little gathering, is now turned into chaos with bubbling heaps all over the studio. It’s 3:30 now on the Freddie and Ken show. Any comments on that, because your manager is the same as his isn’t it?

Freddie Mercury: Yes that’s right. In fact I’d like to dedicate that one to a few friends I know; Sharon, Beryl, Phyllis, Serita, Deirdre all the lovely people who’ve all been nice to us this year.

Kenny Everett: All lady friends then?

Freddie Mercury: Yes, they’re all going into my white book. My black books quite full up actually. [Laughs]

Kenny Everett: He says with champagne bubbles coming out of both ears.

BENJAMIN BRITTON TRIBUTE

Kenny Everett: Well I suppose you could call that a golden oldie, as it was written in 1961. Lovely, I like classical stuff don’t you?

Freddie Mercury: I like a bit of Chopin.

Kenny Everett: I’m a Mozart man.

Freddie Mercury: Well there you are then, we differ.

IT’S OVER – ROY ORBISON

Freddie Mercury: ‘It’s Over’! [Freddie & co sing the last line].

Kenny Everett: The masked mouths of the Mercury entourage, and “It’s Over”. Which was written in 1964 and is one of my faves Roy Orbison, who always did a good tune when called upon.

Freddie Mercury: Yes, very good actually. “Pretty Woman” was very good as well.

Kenny Everett: He did a lot of good stuff, I think he’s fab. I tell you what, Roy was good – but you can’t beat ‘old Dusty.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY YOU LOVE ME – DUSTY SPRINGFIELD

Kenny Everett: Round of applause for Dusty Springfield. She’s great, the only thing that’s wrong with Dusty is that she’s not in Britain today. She’s gone off to California the rotter.

Freddie Mercury: I wish she’d come back actually. She’s very good, a very good singer.

Kenny Everett: I think she’s a ‘nana really, as she’s sat over there and not producing some fab stuff.

Freddie Mercury: I don’t know her, but I think she’s a bit scared to go on. She’s scared of what people might think, especially in this country. I think if she did come back, she’d be liked.

Kenny Everett: She’s be adored, there’s millions of people here waiting for her to come back. I’m not sure what’s wrong with her.

Freddie Mercury: I think she’s got stage fright, she needs a bit more encouragement and a bit more confidence.

Kenny Everett: Now we have another one of your oldies.

Freddie Mercury: Oh? Which one is this?

Kenny Everett: “Love Of My Life”, coming up in just a sec.

Freddie Mercury: This tracks called “Love Of My Life” which…

Kenny Everett: Pull yourself together dear! [Laughs]

Freddie Mercury: I’m perfectly in control, and is dedicated to you dear for being so nice to us today and letting us infiltrating your ‘Be Bop Bonanza’ programme.

Kenny Everett: Shucks, ok.

Freddie Mercury: It’s from our “Sheer Heart Attack” Album – oh no, it’s “A Night At The Opera”. God, we’ve made so many I keep forgetting.

Kenny Everett: It’s the previous and it’s a lovely tune, have a listen to this.

LOVE OF MY LIFE

Kenny Everett: [Lot’s of background laughing] ‘Love of my life’…

Freddie Mercury: I can’t hear the damn thing.

Kenny Everett: It’s over now. You should wear headphones.

Freddie Mercury: Oh I hate those things!

Kenny Everett: I know it kinks your hairdo, but they’re handy and you can hear what you’re saying through them. I feel naked without headphones…[More laughing] Right, it’s thirteen minutes to four and we’re going to sing along at the end of this show ladies & gentlemen, we’ve decided to join Bill Grundy in his cell, for doing naughty things on the wireless. We’re going to sing live, the end of “Bohemian Rhapsody”.

Freddie Mercury: So get your vocal chords ready.

Kenny Everett: Yes, because we want you to all join in with us, because it’s nearly Christmas and you can let yourself go. The end of “Bohemian Rhapsody”, if you forget how it goes, it goes like this…

Freddie Mercury: Oh God, you’ve put me in it!

Kenny Everett: I don’t remember that bit. [Laughter]

Freddie Mercury: ‘Nothing really matters to me’ [Sings the line].

BRIGHTON ROCK

Kenny Everett: Great, an old number by Freddie called “Flick Of The Do Dar” or something…

Freddie Mercury: “Brighton Rock” by Brian May.

Kenny Everett: Really? I thought that was one of yours. Right, here we go then “Bohemian Rhapsody”. Never been done before in it’s life – live in a studio. So we hope you’re going to join in. It’s easy, it’s like Vera Lynn isn’t it. All you’ve got to do is catch onto Freddie, because he’s going to sing the first few lines…

Freddie Mercury: I thought we were all…

Kenny Everett: No, no it’s all yours. Ready? [Laughter] Oh dear, he’s just fainted. You’ve got one minute to lead us into “Bohemian Rhapsody” Go!

Freddie Mercury: I don’t know it… ‘Nothing really matters to me’ [Sings]. I thought you were going to play the track.

Kenny Everett: No, I haven’t got it, I was thinking you being a pro…

Freddie Mercury: I can’t do it live, I mean I need the guitar and multi track, with Brian…

Kenny Everett: Now we know the truth folks, Freddie is a lemon. [Laughter] ‘I see a little silhouetteo of a do dar , scaramouche, scaramouche will you do the fandango’ [Sung in a high pitched voice]

Freddie Mercury: Are you expecting me to sing the full track?

Kenny Everett: Oh I can’t be bothered with these live stars…

Freddie Mercury: I don’t think Capitol have the resources of multi tracking anyway.

Queen released 'A Day At The Races' and peaked at No 1 in the UK. In America, issued a week later, it reached No 5 on the US Billboard album chart and became Queen's first American album to achieve Gold status - and subsequently Platinum

Pic: Queen photographed in the Studio on 28th October 1976

📸 Photo by Lichfield Archive

[amailboxlemur]

Three years ago today I watched Young Royals for the first time.

Story time/long post incoming. I wasn’t in a great headspace at the time, but let me try to set the scene.

Spring of 2021 was still pretty deep in the pandemic. My province had been on lockdown (number 3) since the beginning of April and I hated working from home. Partly because teaching online piano lessons sucks. But also I live alone, and lockdown is too much alone time no matter how introverted you are. I think that spring I went about 6 weeks without speaking to someone in person who wasn’t like a grocery store cashier.

I decided to go stay with my parents for a few weeks so I could get some human interaction. At the time, I was mooching off my former roommate’s Netflix that was still signed in to our living room TV, so I didn’t have Netflix access.

I also love Red White and Royal Blue, and all of a sudden in early July the fandom got flooded. There were gifs of two unfamiliar teenage boys all over my dash. Fanart of two boys who looked like Alex and Henry captioned “Wilhelm and Simon”. There were a bunch of crossover fics popping up on AO3. I was curious, but mostly I just wanted to get a feel for the characters so I could read said crossover fics.

July 12th was my first day back teaching in person. (Side note: the health precautions we had in place for those lessons were WILD). I came back from my parents place in the morning, taught in the late afternoon/evening and returned home around 8 pm. I made supper and figured I’d try watching an episode of this “Young Royals” thing. I started it and remember groaning when I realized it was in Swedish so I’d have to focus and read subtitles instead of watching mindlessly (I’m too pretentious to watch the dubbed version, but it had been a long day)

“Oh that’s a beautiful boy with a beautiful voice singing… I can keep going…”

“Ohhh they’re about to kiss… wait what? How does episode 1 just end there??? I have to watch another episode!”

“Yay they finally kissed!! But how will Wilhelm react?? It’s not even 11 yet, I think I can watch one more”

“Erik is dead. I knew this was coming because I saw the “beta read but Erik’s still dead” tag on AO3 but totally forgot! How will this affect my boys?? One more episode, just to see if wilhelm pushes Simon away again”

“Ok good, they’re together. August sucks though, I can see where this is going and why there seem to be so many comparisons to rwrb. But it’s past midnight so I’ll have to keep watching tomorrow… wait there’s only two more episodes?? Might as well finish”

Before I knew it, it was 2 am and I was crying on my living room couch. I NEVER get into new shows, I have tons of things I watched 1-3 episodes of and then quit, so I couldn’t believe I binged the entire thing. It was late so I went to sleep.

In the morning I woke up and the rabbit hole began. I read all the fics on AO3, I started following young royals stuff on tumblr. I googled the actor who played Simon and found out he’s an actual Swedish pop star? I think he was among the first artists I followed using my then brand new Spotify account. I followed both Omar and Edvin on instagram, along with Lisa (other actors followed later). I watched all the young royals promo videos on YouTube, including the Hillerska choir performance. That entire summer was spent diving down Omar’s back catalog of Foo vlogs. Some of them are in Swedish, but I remember watching them intensely, as if I would magically understand if I tried hard enough. I started learning Swedish on duolingo.

When season 2 was released, I fully quit all social media for WEEKS to avoid spoilers. I spent 3 days carefully messing up my sleep schedule so I could wake up and watch it at 3 am. When season 3 was released I was such an excited puppy dog that I didn’t sleep at all. I watched it at 3 am and spent the whole rest of the day amped up and on tumblr.

I remember all kinds of fun and significant days in the fandom: Rockbjörnen 2021, musikhjälpan 2021. The lead up and release of Mi Casa Su Casa. The release of OMR. Omar gave me a birthday present in 2022 when he performed “breathe” on Nyhetsmorgon on my birthday. Gay gala 2022 but especially 2023. Both boys have done incredible sommarpratar. So many other galas and performances and photoshoots I’d be here all day listing them all out.

Becoming an Omar fangirl was also surprising. I don’t listen to or follow pop music (my definition of which is incredibly broad so yes, Omar’s music qualifies). Like, I’ve never had a favourite artist before? One who’s work I actively follow and whose releases I know about in advance and look forward to?

Omar announced his concert at Cirkus in November of 2023 and it fell at the end of a semester break from work. I could go without needing to refund or makeup any missed lessons. It felt like a sign. That week was genuinely one of the best in my life, words can’t even describe it. A transatlantic flight, a week in Europe. I got to see Kaggeholm. I met Omar at Lyko. I stood in general admission 3 rows back from the stage and heard Omar sing live and sang along with other fans. It was surreal. Shout out to @yrblogbaby @the-words-we-sung @crownedwille and @omarsimp, wow you’re all amazing. There was a queer joy to hanging out with y’all that weekend that I don’t get too often irl.

Since then, I’ve tried to internalize a little bit more the idea of community in fandom. I’m still not super out there, but I try to interact more. I lurked in this fandom (and so many others) for years. I made this account in something like 2011 and until recently I probably had less than 50 posts.

So yeah… saying this show changed my life feels dramatic but also accurate. Hopefully here’s to more years to come, and more good memories when I head to New York this fall!

[simperoniandcheese]

The One Time I Wasn't There - Part 3 (oh my god someone pinch me) - The Fact That He's Always Been Here Scares Me (whump, please read de tags!)

A cloud.

Her mind was in an isolated cloud, alone, up where the air was thin enough to kill.

She would've preferred it that way. But try as she might, Cora considered herself to be severely lacking in the 'luck' department.

Except for when she found the family that took her in and invited her for dinner and made her feel emotion again.

19 year old Cora Vasquez, if asked what she would be doing once she had a day off, would scoff in the asker's face, fill her calendar up with work, work, and more work just to let people know that she was fine, thank you very much.

Because, after everything that she'd gone through, why should she let anyone in? If she trusted, she believed she'd lose everything.

And she still believes it now. Just less.

That year, Cora spent her Christmas looking out of the coffee shop's window at the families passing by, wrenching her gaze away from the wooly mittens of the children, or the snow-bitten but smiling faces of their parents.

And she's been chasing after so many unreachable things that she hasn't paid any attention to the things that really matter.

The squad and all the jokes, gags and fake blackmail they had accumulated over the years.

When Ryan brought his new cat in and the whole room went to chaos.

Burl's leaving party, and how it was extended a whole week because nobody wanted him to retire, and "leave us with the choir boy!".

The little clump of girls that worked in the force that gathered every Friday at Farrell's for drinks. Somehow, a handful of guys would be dragged along with them. Cora didn't think she'd ever get to see or hear her own boss do an impression of 'Total Eclipse Of The Heart' on the old karaoke machine.

She loved it though, regardless. TJ was just an angel, and she loved it.

She loved him.

She'd taken so long to realise that the coffees he refused to let her pay for, the sideways glances when he thought she was looking at the case files, the warm smiles, all of it was for her.

TJ Caruso was a pain in the ass, but he was also her closest friend, her mentor, and (even if she hated it) he was and had her whole heart.

She just didn't know how to express it anymore.

It had been 3 weeks, and the staff had informed everyone that today would likely be her last day in anesthesia because of the thinning they'd commenced in the meds about 5 days ago.

And TJ was working late that evening.

The night before, he'd (like every day since the shooting) gone to talk to her about everything and nothing at the same time. How all the detectives and officers were doing, stories that his father had told his friends too many times to count, how his day was going (she'd definitely laugh at this)

He'd been researching all the information he could find on induced comas, and other related things, so he didn't screw up and could help her the best he could. She deserved only the best, after all, she was the definition of best in his opinion.

Smart, funny, and god, if he looked too many times at her on a normal day, he'd usually be wound up for the rest of their shifts.

Is that bad? It's probably bad. Oh dear.

TJ swiped the weariness out of his eyes with the back of his hand, resettling on his desk chair to get a better angle of the witness's hastily-scribbled report.

He'd have to re-assess it in the morning.

She winced as the iron-tang of blood hit her in the face, and as she looked slowly, drowsily down at her body, where a swathe of bandage was secured around her waist down to her stomach, the other stretch of white which was on her arm being eased off by a stressed looking nurse, and she jolted her head away, fighting her gag reflex as red skin peeled away from the single yellowish, angry sore that must've been one of the places she'd gotten shot.

"Can I have some water?" She cringed as her raspy voice reached her ears, and started to cough violently.

"You're awake!" The nurse perked up a little, then upon hearing Cora's condition, she blanched.

"Hold on, let me just, Callie!" she got up off her knees, calling for who was presumably the other late-shifter assigned to this ward.

A head popped around the curtains, and the nurse who was changing the dressings motioned something with her hands, and Callie took off again, nodding.

"Was that..Is she deaf? I hope you don't mind me asking," Cora asked with wide eyes, her face alight in interest.

"No, Callie is just mute, the kind soul, so we use ASL here to communicate with them and also it's kind of easier to gesture than to speak." The woman smiled. "Ooh, I was also going to say, there was a young man at the front desk asking to see you a few hours ago, he looked so worried, poor thing..."

She sharply looked up from picking her fingernails, a jolt of surprise zipping through her nerves as she stared at the nurse.

"Is that..alright? We can send him away, so many women here get visitors-"

"No, no please don't. Can you um, possibly let him in as soon as you can? I really need to tell him something, before it's too late and I fuck up again." Cora half-begged, not caring if her nerves showed through her voice. She'd had enough of holding her tongue anyway.

Callie returned, her curly red hair falling slightly out of place as she lowered down to give Cora the water, and a mutual smile of gratitude was shared between them before she stepped back into the seat of her desk, her eyes trained on the screen as it lit up her face in the midnight lighting.

"I can maybe ask around for you in a few hours, I think you should get some rest while you can, First, before that happens, I need to change your dressings." She answered warmly from the other side of the room, where she was dropping the used equipment into a yellow bag.

Cora nodded, tapping on the small cannula that snaked off the bed, behind her, where it connected to a small bag of what looked like water, even though it clearly wasn't water.

As the nurse came over, she took Cora's forearm in her hands affably, and in a second or two, there was a fresh sheet of cloth on her wound, the sting of ointment felt easily beneath the layer.

"Right, so I'm not trying to be weird, but since the other bandage is around your torso, I'm going to need you to loosen and pull down your gown,"

"Oh, okay. Also, I was wondering, what's your name, so I can stop referring to you as 'kind woman'?"

The lady laughed a little, her eyes crinkling at the sides, easily visible even through the lack of light.

She looked a little bit like Cora, if she was going to say anything about it, minus her bleached hair tips and her long high-ponytail.

"It's Frieda, but lots of people find that weird, so just Freya if you're one of those people." She smiled, looking back at Cora as the curtains were drawn quickly.

As she untied the small knot in the back of her hospital clothing, Cora looked the other way awkwardly as the nurse produced an intimidating roll of fresh cloth, covering her chest with her hands.

Sooner than she'd thought, the cold sensation of the ointment on her overheated skin made her stomach flip, and she let out a small, surprised yelp, at the amusement of Frieda, who was focused on her patient's side.

She was muttering words under her breath as she worked, even if Cora wasn't looking her way, she silently wondered how working in a hospital would be different from working in the squad. Did they have the same kind of banter? Was it harder on your mental health?

Most of all, did the nurses fall in love with their boss?

That was a weird question.

As soon as the bandage had been secured around her waist and lower chest, she got to work, busying herself with the strings of the gown as Frieda once again returned to the yellow bag, then checked on the IV drip.

"I'll just go now and tell your poor friend he can see you," Frieda announced airily as she opened the curtains, and the light, as little as it was, poured in. Cora gulped, hoping she wouldn't start crying like she had the last time she'd been as low as she was.

Which, funnily enough, she hadn't even apologized for.

She'd been angry at everything that night, not to mention tired, still drowsy from whatever Warren put in the champagne, and she'd taken it out on poor Anthony, who'd just been trying to help. She failed to ask his dad where his son had been when the reception took place, eventually finding out that he went through something that was probably worse than what she had from the grapevine of chatter that circulated around the offices, since TJ was conveniently ushered out of the room whenever she came into it by anyone who was there at the time.

But despite TJ's physical presence (and the warmth and light and love he brought) being absent from the too-long hallways that her boots loved to echo on as she tried to sort her shit out on the walk to and from a taxi (she'd been too terrified to use her car), she'd still think of him.

And it helped chase her demons away for a while.

Wiping her eyes a little, she wondered how far from the ward TJ was, and if she would have any time to bury herself underneath the sheets and sleep.

[ashleywool]

gratitude post to remind myself...

The show closed in February, but I'm still an artist. I'm still an actress and singer and dancer and storyteller.

I got to do TWO shows at 54 Below. One of them had me singing alongside a fabulously talented acrobat duo. The other one had me singing repertoire by up-and-coming composers, and I got to do it in my pajamas. (Oh yeah, and Conor, Imani, and Dez were also in it, and slayed.)

I got to participate in a reading of a very clever and hilarious new musical written by my dear friend Seth, who's one of the first people I met when I started auditioning in NYC and is responsible for introducing me to MANY of my other dear friends.

I've been called in to audition for ALL kinds of amazing stuff, I have finally gotten into a good routine with my self-tapes, and I've been taking a great on-camera acting class that's made me much more confident submitting for film/TV stuff.

Today I'm doing a reading of a new play at the studio where I took my Meisner class last year.

Tomorrow I'm singing in the choir at the most wonderful church home with the most supportive faith community that I still can't quite believe I was lucky enough to find.

On Monday we have the HTDIO reunion concert.

And next month? GAAAAAHHHH NEXT MONTH I'M DOING BROADWAY BARES and I'm going to be ONSTAGE for the first time and I can't wait to be challenged as a DANCER by some of the best in the business.

The show may have closed, but it's still making so many more of my dreams come true. It still solidified me as a true, legitimate, and uniquely beautiful part of the Broadway community.

I am the absolute freaking luckiest.

After I posted my depression-rant yesterday, I went straight to yoga, where I cried the entire time. It was a hot yin class, which I sorely needed (emphasis on the "sore") since I took a Bikram and hot pilates class on Thursday, and then had my acting class on Friday morning, and then went directly to the concert rehearsal where the floodgates opened. So of course the slow, sustained heart and hip openers in a 90-something-degree room inevitably opened those floodgates even wider and left me totally drained.

But then I called my dad and talked to him about it, and told him all of my frustrations about managing my energy, and I wasn't sure what else to do, and he asked, "well, your work is exhausting...do you think maybe you want to pivot away from performing as a career?"

And the one thing I was sure about, the one thing I'm still sure about, is that the answer is a resounding, immediate ABSOLUTELY THE HECK NOT.

Because, yeah. Life IS exhausting. But the most energized I feel, the most alive and purposeful I feel, is being an artist in spaces with other artists.

I get to do that all the time now. And I never want to NOT be doing it ever again.

I am. The absolute. Freaking. LUCKIEST.

[duckduckhjonk]

After careful debate between me and myself. I'm posting chapter 2. Here ya go!

Chapter 2 of The Mystery of The Cyclone!

Previous | Next | First

Word count; 2,342

Note; felt a lot more comfortable with the characters this chapter! Hopefully you enjoy :3

The weeks came, and they went. Soon all six of the kids were released and sent home. Not long after they were sent back to school. For some, this also meant back to working a shitty job at Taco Bell.

But the day was new for Noel, and his first day back to school since the accident. Typically he would walk, given his proximity to the school, but today he got a ride from his mother. She had the time off and figured he'd wear himself out if he walked too long. The boy was still recovering after all.

It was early, far too early for classes to begin. Typically on these types of days, Noel would visit the choir room. Usually Father Marcus would let the choir kids stay there until classes began as to avoid trouble. Today, Noel was unsure if the new director would. He didn't even know anything about this new director! That just had to be remedied.

Noel walked as fast as his bandaged legs could carry him. He knew a straight shot path to the choir room from the entrance gates. As he arrived at the choir room, the door was slightly cracked open. Slowly, he opened the door. On the other side of the room, an old lady stood hunched over a music stand. On the bleachers sat Ricky. Noel sighed in relief when he saw a familiar face.

"Ricky, it's good to see you again," Noel began, "how's it going?"

'it's been alright,' Ricky signed, 'although my parents have been stressing over every little thing since I got home.'

"Oh, so has my mom," Noel said sympathetically. After a brief pause he spoke again, "what's the new director like?"

'I'm not sure, I know she doesn't know sign language though,' Ricky replied, 'she was kind of snarky when I first got in here, though.'

"I see," Noel said, his voice trailing off. As he opened his mouth to speak again, the new director was now looking at them.

"Ah, I didn't see you come in," she said, "you're in the choir, yes?"

"I am," Noel said in a dramatic tone, "you must be the new choir director, it is so nice to finally meet you."

"Ah, I've been here a little while now, I wouldn't say new," She said, now a touch flustered.

"Well you're new to us! After all, we just got out of the hospital," Noel replied in a now sly voice.

"Oh, yes, yes, I nearly forgot about that," the director exclaimed, "well, I'm Sister Becca, it is so nice to meet you."

"Noel Gruber, at your service," Noel stood up and bowed dramatically, "and this is Ricky, if you didn't already know."

"I tried asking him earlier about his name but he just wouldn't respond," Sister Becca complained.

'I did, just not with my voice,' Ricky explained to Noel, 'not my fault she can't read sign language.'

Their conversation was cut short by the door creaking open once more. On the other side was a girl who stiffly entered and moved to join them. A headless doll clutched in her arms.

"Penny!" Noel exclaimed.

"Hello, Noel, hello, Ricky," Penny said cheerfully, "hello, new director lady."

"Ah, hello," Sister Becca replied, clearly put off by Penny.

The reunion was sweet, but short lived as the bell had rung. The three students all swiftly exited and parted ways.

~

School was about as normal as ever. Lots of faux 'oh we missed you's and 'how are you feeling's. It got on Noel's nerves. It was a slow day and it didn't seem to get any faster. Although at lunch he finally got some peace and quiet. That peace and quiet was rather short lived for soon Noel would find himself being practically dragged by Constance. She was blabbing on about an 'emergency choir meeting' or something.

"What's all this about?" Noel asked as he sat at the round table with the other members of the choir.

"Well," Ocean began, "I did some research and I found out just how many safety features rollercoasters are required to have. There's such a small chance all of them would fail leading to the cart derailing without any of the employees noticing. It doesn't add up!"

"So what are you suggesting?" Mischa asked.

"That someone tampered with the rollercoaster, thus making this a murder attempt," Ocean announced.

Noel wasn't quite sure how to feel about this. On one hand, how dare someone try something like that! But on the other hand it would certainly thicken the plot. Perhaps leading to a tragic twist where just before our brave heroes find out the culprit they tragically die. That would make for a beautiful story.

It seemed he was the only one taking this in a positive light. Looking around the table, the other kids looked horrified. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at them. Some of them on the verge of tears for christ sake!

"So what do we do about this? There is no way I take an attempt on my life lying down," Mischa nearly screamed.

'Simple,' Ricky signed, 'we figure out the culprit and bring them to justice.'

"It's not that simple, Ricky," Constance chimed in, "there were hundreds if not thousands of people at the fall fair! Anyone could have done it!"

"Maybe let's try listing off possible suspects first," Ocean said, "does anyone here know of anyone who wants them dead?"

The choir all stopped to think. Noel couldn't recall anyone despising him besides his own father, and his father left town years ago! There was always the sporty bully kid but he was mean to everyone, why would he target Noel?

The choirs' thinking led them to a whole bunch of nowhere. Lunch ending put an end to their think time. The choir kids all split off and went on their ways until the end of the day.

Like every class that morning, the afternoon ones dragged on just as long. Noel was exhausted by the time biology rolled around and could barely keep himself interested. He'd rather think, no, fantasize about what mysteries and tragedies could unfold. He was the victim of a murder attempt after all.

His thoughts were all too soon interrupted by the biology teacher slamming his hand onto Noel's desk. He flinched and let out a tiny yelp as the teacher did so.

"What's goin through your little mind that's soooo important?" The teacher asked.

Noel, thinking on his toes, stood up dramatically. This was his time to shine. "When a lioness has children, she stops making love to the lion. The lion gets jealous—sometimes so jealous he eats the children. You'd think this would upset the lioness. Far from it. They make love again like the children never existed. I find that idea terrifying."

The teacher didn't know how to react. As Noel sat back down, the teacher, rather pathetically, walked back up and continued his lesson. His eyes turned towards the front of the room to see Penny, whom he shared the class with, nearly dying of laughter, trying to contain it.

They made a pact to not stop talking about the incident. To put it in a better light. If not then they'd only be driven apart. So what better than to have a little fun with it. Penny seemed to agree.

Noel was ever so thankful it was the last class of the day. The bell rang and the teacher dismissed the class alongside it. Noel trotted slyly towards the front of the room to meet with Penny.

"How did you manage that timing so well?" Penny asked between laughs.

"Oh, please, my timing is always perfect," Noel said as he waved his hand, "now let's get to the choir room, I want to hear if anyone's gotten any idea of who's responsible for all this."

"I have a theory, but I'm going to wait until we're in the choir room to tell," Penny said.

"Oh, good, that makes one of us," Noel sighed.

The choir room wasn't far, the two arrived quickly. While they weren't the first in the room, they were considerably early. Noel made a huge entrance into the room with Penny trailing not too far behind.

Within the room, there was at least three others. Noel recognised Ocean and Ricky as two of them, but failed to recognise the other girl. This girl had long brown hair and wore a boy's uniform. She had dark makeup around her eyes and had a very worried expression. Ocean was attempting to calm the girl down.

"Just deep breaths," Ocean said, "it'll all be okay!" Her tone sounded faker than the fantasies in his own head.

"It's not ok," the girl replied, "Hank said he'd meet me here, something bad could have happened!"

Noel found a seat in the stands next to Ricky, watching the scene go down. Penny loomed above the two, also fascinated by Ocean and the other girl's squabbles.

"Maybe he got stuck behind some slower walking students," Ocean suggested now sounding anxious, "we don't need to storm through the entire school looking for him."

"Oh, don't play dumb with me, Ocean," the girl replied, "you know Hank is a target for bullying. There's a more than likely chance he's sitting in a locker that isn't his own."

As the two bickered, Constance had snuck in and joined the bystanders. She seemed all to used to these exchanges. Noel figured it best to maybe ask her for some context.

"What's the deal with them?" He asked in a whisper.

"Oh, Astrid and Ocean are cousins," Constance started, "Astrid's best friend, Hank, is kind of a, uhm, loser to say nicely. He gets bullied a lot without her around.",

"I see..."

A few moments passed before the door was thrown open. On the other side stood a disgruntled looking man. It was Mischa. For some reason, he held another, more pathetic looking boy, under his arm. Mischa placed him down and immediately Astrid embraced the boy.

"Oh there you are!" She exclaimed, "you had me worried sick! What happened?"

"He got shut into locker" Mischa explained, "I was nearby and heard his baby weeping and released him from metal prison."

"I'm alright now," Hank said, patting Astrid on the back.

"Right!" Ocean said with a clap of her hands, ruining the rather sweet moment, "while we still have time before practice begins, we've got a murder case to look into. Does anyone have any theories about possible suspects?"

Penny raised her hand, "I believe I have an idea."

"Alright," Ocean said albeit a little hesitantly, "what's your theory?"

"This might take some context," Penny forewarned, "But do you remember that school assembly where my brother and I told a story about how drugs are bad and going all the way to Orlando, Florida to bite the cheek off of a rapper known formerly as Johnny Moon is also bad?"

Mischa slammed his fist into the step of the stands he sat in, "That was you??" He asked loudly.

"Yes," Penny answered, beginning to feel nervous.

"You are my hero, yoo!" Mischa continued, now extremely giddy, "That JK-47 guy gave bad rep to rap scene! You beating the shit out of him absolutely ruined him and saved rap for ever!"

Penny looked unsure of how to respond. Luckily she didn't have to, as Ocean interrupted their moment.

"So you're implying that this guy might be back to try and kill you?" She said impatiently.

"Oh, yes, that's where I was going," Penny confirmed.

Ocean wrote the name down in a notebook with a fancy looking pen. She looked up and around at everyone. The rest of the choir just shrugged or shook their heads awkwardly. Even Noel struggled to think of a culprit.

Their theorising was cut short by the director tapping on her stand, gaining all of their attention.

"Alright, welcome back," Sister Becca began, "it's so nice to have everyone back in choir. For those of you who don't know, I'm Sister Becca, your choir director.

If he were to be honest, Noel mostly tuned what she was saying out. He didn't really care about her or her dog at all. There wasn't much practicing to be done that day, it was mainly Sister Becca rambling about her life.

Noel's mind was in a different place. Not quite the usual place, but one where he was a stunningly beautiful detective of a similar French name who struggled to make ends meet and sold her body to pay rent. She had just been given a big case about the murder of six people and was tasked with finding the killer based off such little evidence.

"Oh, I promise I will catch this killer no matter what," Monique said passionately.

"Good. I'm counting on it," the brash Frenchman said before storming out of the shoddy office.

Monique sighed, she looked over the files and could barely find anywhere to begin. Six separate murders with all different killing techniques yet somehow all linked. She'd need more evidence. Given the recency, Monique would simply have to investigate the crime scenes.

The first was a saddening one. A girl without a head. The only thing anyone knew about this girl was her recently attacking a famous musician. She noted down she'd have to interview him if given the chance.

"Noel? Are you there?" The daydream faded as he saw Mischa waving his hand in front of Noel's face. "It is time to go home, you've been staring off into space for long time now."

"Oh, forgive me," Noel said dramatically, "I had gone off to my own world again, much more interesting than listening to someone go off about her dog for an hour."

'Agreed,' Ricky added from next to Noel.

The three boys exited the choir room together, but dispersed not long after. Noel had to get to work, but perhaps he could get back to her detective work while he walked.

[starlight-time-machine]

Week in Review

04/07/2024 – 04/13/2024

Sunday

Week 9 of missing Cipher Academy

Monday

It’s a Manga Monday sort of week (instead of the usual Manga Sunday).

Woah, new character in Girl Meets Rock…I do like that the social web continues to expand, it feels true to life of the band and choir circles I used to run in in high school.

FENG!!!!!!!!!! YEAHHHHHHHHH (Undead Unluck) I’ve really grown to like this tsundere single father – the way Fuuko has filed down his fangs is so funny and endearing (as opposed to the horrible monster he was last loop when he killed my other favourite character, Shen). Plopping a guy literally all about physical combat into this intellectual word game is just the sort of unexpected twist that keeps things interesting, and I’m really excited to see how he fares (despite martial arts being his main focus in life, I do think he’s intelligent and crafty enough to maybe make some clever moves).

Oshi no Ko was fine. Didn’t really need a sympathetic backstory for the mysterious child god but okay.

Dandadan was fine. I liked the one honor student looking guy leading the charge of the delinquents, but Otarun entering the scene was definitely the highlight. This stretch of the manga just feels a little like meaningless spectacle (which, now that I think about it, worries me a little with regards to the anime. Dandadan’s fights are always high octane city destroying spectacles, so I hope Science Saru will be able to keep up…).

Magilumiere fine.

Chainsaw Man fun, mostly because people made funny Quanxi and Asa memes.

Tuesday

Busy today

Wednesday

Finally got around to watching the new Game Changer episode, and it was a definite improvement on the last one. Watching the layers of fuckery unfold was great, though I feel like the PA prompts were a little unbalanced in terms of the “gameplay” since they’re all nice people who would probably never say no to a PA outright.

Thursday

Today’s menu is chicken and mushroom broth with a side of mini pizza pockets (don’t judge me) for the DunMesh episode, which paired nicely once they got past the snot stuff and went to the potage stuff. After a few heavier episodes, I appreciate Kui balancing the tone out with some more slapstick comedy chapters, and Trigger has done a great job adapting the comedic beats (as they always do). We got the infamous Chilchuck birds and the bees scene, as well as the human face gourd sight gag and stone tsukkomi Marcille, and it was just a fun time overall.

Friday

The Drag Race lip sync tournament was alright. (I refuse to type out “lalaparuza” in earnest) I’m glad to see Mirage get some redemption, though I would’ve liked to see her go all the way, but Megami’s redemption was an even greater sight to behold. She just imbues her lip syncs with so much character and personality, and seeing that win over Mhi’ya was honestly pretty cathartic. (Lowkey I think Plasma should’ve won against Mhi’ya too, but whatever…) But in general, I wasn’t particularly wow’d by any of the lip syncs. I don’t know, last season just had so many heavy hitters (Sasha, Anetra, Jaxx, Marcia Marcia Marcia) that made the tournament genuinely exciting, but of this season’s batch I think only Mirage is on that same level to me (sorry Mhi’ya and Morphine…you can definitely dance but I wanted something more…). I’m cautiously excited for the finale next week – it’s looking like it’s Sapphira’s to lose, but I really hope Nymphia can pull through…

Saturday

Wanted something easy to watch in the background while I did other stuff so I booted up season 5 of Glow Up, which I hadn’t watched yet. Glow Up is one of those reality competition shows that I casually keep up with because I like seeing people be creative, but after Ophelia’s amazing run in season 2 I haven’t cared much about the other contestants/winners so far. Also I know next to nothing about make-up, so it’s kind of funny when I see something and I’m like oh that’s nice and then the judges are like that’s horrible and disgusting I can’t believe they’ve done this lol. I only managed to watch one episode today, but I do like how much Glow Up emphasizes the industry/working side of things and how almost all of their main challenges let us see the contestants not just utilize their make-up skills but also their ability to communicate with clients and supervisors. The classic first episode “do a look that tells me about yourself” challenge is always fun too, because you get to see which MUAs actually have a unique perspective and which just draw some hearts and call it a day. I think the person who did the bald cap anxiety look was my favourite – I appreciated how they didn’t go super literal with it, instead evoking the raw feeling of anxiety itself. Good stuff.

[dankusner]

Jeff Hiller Is Living His Best Gay Christian Life

Jeff Hiller knows why people come to see his one-man show, Middle Aged Ingenue.

“People like you more when you’re on TV,” the San Antonio native told the audience at New York City’s Public Theater the first time he performed it in August 2023, referring to his two seasons as the unexpected leading man opposite Bridget Everett on HBO’s Somebody Somewhere.

“It’s literally the only reason you’re here tonight, so thank you.”

When the show makes its Texas debut on April 13 at Austin’s State Theater as part of the Moontower Comedy Festival, Hiller—whose newfound fame also stems from a stint playing a serial killer on American Horror Story—may not say it quite the same.

“I’ve tried to pull that back a little bit because my husband said, ‘I think that’s kind of insulting,’ ” he says during a video chat with Texas Monthly. “And I’m like, ‘BUT IT’S TRUE!’ ”

Even on a laptop screen, the six-foot-five Hiller is a big presence: an always-on comedian of oversized expressions in both face and voice, his (Hiller is open to any and all pronouns) conversation regularly punctuated with emphatic beats, mock-whispered asides, and effervescent laughs.

Today, he’s in a Minneapolis hotel room—which he hurriedly attempts to tidy as the camera light comes on—preparing for that night’s performance.

We quickly realize it’s also Good Friday, which, given that a major portion of the show traces his journey from closeted aspiring pastor and Texas Lutheran University theology major to actor, seems fitting, inappropriate, or both. “Isn’t that weird?” Hiller says. “I did really badly at scheduling my show about church!”

To be fair, “church” is not the buzzword Hiller uses in his thumbnail description of the show: “a night of stand-up about life, love, and three stories about assholes. Not rude people. Literal anatomical human buttholes. Three of them.”

One of the three is from his time as a social worker in Denver, working with homeless youth and in HIV prevention (no spoilers for the other two).

But church is what made Hiller he who is, and church is also very much at the heart of his character, Joel, on Somebody Somewhere.

Executive produced by former Texans Mark and Jay Duplass, it’s a comedy, albeit one that is also bittersweet and dark, created by Hannah Bos and Paul Thureen as a vehicle for Everett, a New York singer, actress, and comedian who is originally from Manhattan, Kansas.

It’s a show full of people you don’t often see on TV: so-called “real Americans” in so-called “flyover country” who farm and go to church and watch college football and buy “live laugh love”–type throw pillows and raise children and experience loss and love, in both biological and found families.

And some of those Americans who go to church or dress head-to-toe in Kansas State Wildcats swag are people of color.

Or gay.

Or trans.

Just like Hiller and the show’s third star, drag performer Murray Hill.

“Some people have said, like, ‘Oh, this fantasy. This fantasy of openly gay people in middle America,’ ” Hiller says. “And the weird thing is, it’s not a fantasy.”

The son of mechanical engineer Raymond and housewife turned CPA Mary, Hiller grew up in San Antonio (“outside of 410, inside 1604”) and went to Churchill High, where he was in the choir (which meant he went to one football game a year, when they sang the National Anthem), but not the theater-kid clique. “They were cooler kids,” he says. “I’m much better at theater than at choir. But choir was a safe space.”

So was San Antonio’s Shepherd King Lutheran Church, where even the kids who bullied him at school had to be nice.

He was there for something—worship, choir, youth group—six days a week, and would have gone on Fridays too if there was an event to join.

He went to Texas Lutheran (“which everyone says is the Harvard of Seguin, Texas”) intending to become a pastor, while still getting a classic liberal arts education.

In Middle Aged Ingenue, he tells how he first came out, during a semester abroad, to a total stranger in Cape Town.

Nobody, including his own parents, has ever been surprised. “Oh, that’s niiiiiiiiice!,” Hiller recalls/imitates in Middle Aged Ingenue, with the sort of squealing voice people use to talk to puppies. “Thank you for telling me.”

But at that time, being himself also meant he couldn’t be a pastor (the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, Hiller’s denomination, began allowing gay clergy in 2009).

He graduated from TLU in 1998 with a degree in theater, and eventually made his way to New York, after a short time in Denver.

He dreamed of working full time as an actor, but was afraid that no one else would see it. “I felt like people would look at me and be like, you?”

He wound up doing comedy and improv at New York’s Upright Citizens Brigade, and immediately saw other students and performers landing commercials and small movie parts.

Then he saw one of his teachers, Paul Scheer, get a TV show (Human Giant).

One of his improv teammates, Bobby Moynihan, got on Saturday Night Live.

By then Hiller was himself a teacher, and soon his students, including Broad City’s Abbi Jacobson and Ilana Glazer, and The Good Place’s D’arcy Carden, were getting their own shows or major parts.

“And I was still teaching,” he says. “It became very much a come-to-Jesus moment. Like, uh-oh, this might not happen. But I just kept plugging away. Like an idiot,” he adds with a laugh.

Prior to Somebody Somewhere, Hiller ran the gauntlet from unknown to obscure to “hey, it’s that guy!”

He racked up commercials and sitcom supporting parts (including on Broad City, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, and two different spots on 30 Rock), starred in one Off-Broadway/Public Theater hit that was not at all a Broadway hit (Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, which walked so Hamilton could run).

But he was also tiring of only ever playing parts like “snippy gay waiter” or “bitchy customer service representative.”

And then he finally landed the role of, well . . . “gay best friend.”

But Joel is so much more than that.

The show’s second season was billed as a “totally platonic love story,” as the relationship between his character and Everett’s Sam became the heart of the show.

The character jumped off the page and right into Hiller’s heart when it was first suggested he audition for the role (he was acquainted with Everett and Murray Hill in New York, and they are all performers at the Public).

“I loved him,” Hiller says. “I loved him. I really was like, ‘Oh, they wrote this for me!’ ” They did not, in fact. “But he’s so much like me. I know exactly how to play him. It felt very meant to be.”

The similarities went beyond both Joel (who has no last name) and Hiller being churchy gay men from red states. Even some of the details in Joel’s backstory overlapped with Hiller’s life: having a stress rash in high school; driving a Buick LeSabre; not only having a vision board, but having a Vitamix blender on his vision board. The fact that Joel loves to take and count his “steps” was something the writers did add to the character based on Hiller, who is also a late-in-life runner, now that he no longer associates physical activity with the Lord of the Flies–like atmosphere of high school gym class.

And of course, they are both former seminary students who both love church (though Hiller, whose husband, Neil Goldberg, is Jewish, is no longer a regular).

Not only are there tons of other people like that, Hiller points out, but not every church is a place of intolerance and fundamentalism.

“I know so many openly gay men and women who are still part of mainline Protestant churches,” Hiller says. “That’s where their community is. Where they find friends and connections. And a lot of times church is also the base of social justice for these places. Food banks, rent assistance, even [helping] asylum-seekers. And so I think that the church often gets a bad rap.”

He then switches to a conspiratorial mock-whisper.

“Now, there are some really bad churches too, don’t get me wrong,” he finishes with a giggle.

People talk about Somebody Somewhere as a low-key, almost short-story-like TV show; “a show made up almost entirely of small, unassuming moments,” as Vulture’s Jen Chaney put it.

Which it is.

As Hiller observes, it’s a TV show about “humans who are bound by the rules of our planet,” as opposed to dealing with dragons or zombies.

But it is also not without its over-the-top drama and broader-than-broad comedy: diarrhea, cheap-motel affairs, physical and emotional fights, weddings, deaths.

It’s a show about not giving up on yourself and your life, even if you’re over forty (“significantly,” Hiller mock-mutters), which resonates for its actors as much as their characters.

That Somebody Somewhere also brought him to American Horror Story: NYC was kismet.

Ryan Murphy’s production company reached out to him after Somebody Somewhere’s first season aired and asked if he’d be willing to take a Zoom with the creator, who is also behind such shows as 9-1-1: Lone Star, Feud, and Glee.

“Which is hiiiiiilllllarious,” Hiller says, drawing out the word, as if he was going to say no. “I would have played one of the the dead bodies!”

Hiller’s character is horrifying and creepy but also just a little sympathetic, in a season that was both a Grand Guignol evocation of New York culture and gay culture in the 1980s, when the actual horror was the tragedy of AIDS.

And because AHS has far more viewers than Somebody Somewhere, he gets recognized as the terrifying Mr. Whitely far more than as lovable Joel.

“It’s funny because for so long, I really felt like my gayness was a detriment,” Hiller says. “I always felt like I could probably be on a sitcom if I weren’t so obviously gay. So it’s nice that my two biggest projects are celebrating that I’m gay. Well, not necessarily ‘celebrating’ on American Horror Story,” he walks back with another laugh. “But it’s an important part of his character!”

In Middle Aged Ingenue, Hiller jokes about the little gift he bought himself from having more rewarding and consistent work—health insurance, which of course is not a joke.

And neither was the vision board: Hiller’s got himself that Vitamix, just like Joel did.

With “not that much commitment”—no kids, he points out, but a husband, a cat, and a dog, he wants to work as much as he can while the work is there to be gotten, including writing and producing his own stuff.

“I’m not very easily castable,” he says. “So I’m aware of that and I’m trying to create my own work.” Middle Aged Ingenue, which he’s performing intermittently, is his third one-man show. He’s about finished a memoir (which will likely bear the same title) and he’s writing and developing pilots.

Even when he reached the peak of his time with UCB, performing in their flagship show, Hiller couldn’t help but think “I have more to give,” he says. “I have more to give than this. And I’m glad I get to give it. I’d like to give more of it.”Film & TV

[returntosaturn271995]

Friday, July 28th: Breathing lessons

A theme lately for me has been if you can learn to control your breathing you can learn to control your life. 

And I’m someone who...like...breathes, obviously, but doesn’t super enjoy it, if that makes any sense. I hate being told how to breathe, when to breathe, or that I’m breathing wrong. 

How can a person be breathing wrong? I’m fucking alive, aren’t I? 

That was my attitude for a lot of things breathing-related growing up. It comes up quite a bit more than you’d think. 

There’s the controlling anger and anxiety, slow inhales:

“Don’t tell me to take a deep breath to calm down, you take a fucking deep breath to calm down. I’m upset, oxygen doesn’t fix that, you condescending carbon-emitter. I know everything there is to know about oxygen. How dare you make this about my lungs, my feelings are valid.”

There’s the singing-from-the-diaphragm-breathing from choir all those years:

“Why do I need to fill up my stomach? My lungs are in my chest. Also I don’t think I’m doing this right. I feel like I’m just pushing my stomach out. This is actually weird and uncomfortable when you aren’t working out.”

There’s the relaxed, nose-and-mouth breathing during work outs

“Holy shit, I can’t breath. Stitch in my side. Muscles are pissed. Ow-ow. STOP TELLING ME TO BREATHE I”M FUCKING TRYING THE AIR IS JUST BEING AN ASSHOLE RIGHT NOW. Ugh, what adult pants like a dog? This is fucked. *gasp* up.”

And finally, the focus-on-your-breaths during meditation breathing: 

“My nose feels itchy. This is boring. Okay, act like it’s your first breath ever. Nope. Still boring.”

But with running, all you’ve got is your breathing. And the major lesson I’ve learned is you’ve got to relax, sending inhales to your screaming calves and exhaling tension that adds to your resistance. Go slow even though it’s cardio. It’s a lesson in not being so fucking stubborn, just breathe in to it. Let it be on your side.

Breathe. 

Other things that happened today:

Woke up at 7 am, morning routine, wrote standup, and did early-morning yoga for the first time. Walked to grab a vanilla latte and interviewed with MSL at 11 am. Paid the electric bill. 

Meditated on the middle ground of focus and relaxation, letting them inform each other. Then I went on a 22 minute run using the Nike Running App and listening to Taylor Swift’s Reputation album. (Hate that I fucking love that music). As with most of my runs, I ended up at the beach where I again stuck my lower body in the warm, mint-green ocean and watched the waves roll in from the pier. 

On the way back I was inspired to write a letter in the form of an advice piece: A manic-depressive’s guide to forming a running habit. I even got to meet the neighbor who owns the boxer I always see in the window on my way back from the park. His name is Micky. The dog, that is, I forgot the dude’s name. 

Priorities. 

Put last night’s burger in the oven and now at 3 pm, I’m where I started being productive yesterday. Definitely an improvement and kind of wild how quickly the day flew by. I feel like I entered, “flow-state”, where work and focus feel good. I didn’t realize how much I missed it. 

Oh- and in world-wide news:

The United States Military still has a long way to go in the fight for justice for sexual assault survivors, but policy and practices are finally headed in the right direction. Commanders directly up the chain of command shouldn’t have total authority...duh?

As the world endures its hottest July ever recorded, conservative groups have already drafted a plan to gut any federal efforts to address climate change. Super tired of people saying both parties are too extreme. 

Rep. Tim Scott (R-SC), the only Black GOP presidential candidate in the field, publicly criticized Gov. Ron DeSantis (R-FL) for his support of Florida education standards requiring that students be instructed that slaves “developed skills” among other “benefits” of slavery. Because FUCK RON DeSantis and FUCK Florida.

[ewharris]

Day 1: It's rejection season again in Brooklyn, NY, and I don't know about you but I'm feeling pretty confused. Let's see what they've got for us today "Hi there, and thank you for sending over your song! I liked the fiddle and the soft, heartfelt vibe of the song, though must say I found it a little sweet for some of my playlists. I went for my Acoustic and love-oriented playlists to shout it out." My response (if this were an option): "Thanks for listening! I'm glad you liked the fiddle, there wasn't one on this tune (@ginjaskwurl played nearly every other instrument available to a high school orchestra) but I often have fiddles in my imagination. They're usually played by Sherlock Holmes. A little sweet you say? Which part? The bit about the impermanence of life (and by extension love) or the obviously post-apocalyptic setting? Oh nice! Thanks for adding the tune to the love playlists, I agree the fantasy and doomsday prepper ones would be preaching to the choir. Thanks again!" So ima come clean. This isn't TOTALLY a rejection, but being as it's kinda funny I thought I might share. ANYWAY. If you preorder on Bandcamp you now get the track IMMEDIATELY so tap the link in my bio or head on over to https://linktree.com/ewharrismusic to get yours/buy release tix/check out the tour calendar/etc. ALSO: come hang out at the @susanoneillmusic gig tonight at 7pm @rockwoodmusichall rockwoodmusichall stage 3 w/ me. Find that fiddle and I'll buy ya a drink. (at Brooklyn, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpfrscSOI1l/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[inkofamethyst]

December 13, 2022

The concerts went really really really well!!!

I hope I can still manage to fit in performing arts in some capacity when I’m in graduate school because it’s been a long time since I’ve felt the same kind of joy that I did up on that stage with over a hundred other people making really, really good music.  Like, I’m going to need an outlet like that to stay sane, I think.  Why get drunk when you could get a performance high instead?  It’s basically the same thing (I’d imagine (/s (I realize that I make sarcastic statements which like, when I go back and read four-year-old entries I can pick out the sarcasm, but I don’t know how far in the past I’m going to be able to detect my own tone in the future, so tone tags might be useful? idk))).

Speaking of grad school, I flip spontaneously between “look at those acceptance rates what if i dont get in anywhere and disappoint everyone” and “look at my experience it would be foolish to think that at least one or two of these schools wont accept me” and I think the solution here is to simply stop thinking about it at all but Lord knows I can’t help myself.  Whenever the future is murky, I find myself feeling a little wobbly.  It’s gotten better these past few years, I think, especially when I manage to keep myself busy.  I’m going to refuse to look at phd admissions forums until after I... until after I’m accepted somewhere or I get back all of my decisions, whichever comes first.  “Oh you’re sure to get in somewhere” they all say BUT THEY DON’T KNOW THAT FOR SURE AND NEITHER DO I AND IT GRINDS MY GEARS.

In other news, I snatched one of the little mini ground billboard thingies that were advertising my concert (the concerts are over so what is the org gonna do with ‘em (also the choir groupchat was alight with people saying they wanted to take one so I just silently did the same myself)) and hung it on my wall and a) I understand the kleptomaniacs who nab road signs now and b) it’s so nice to just have!!  Who knows, maybe I’ll hang it in my grad school apartment lol.

Today I’m thankful that I wasn’t hit by the post-concert blues, instead I’m just singing a bunch of the music a lot which is fun.  I’m also thankful that I decided to hang out with a few of the choir people tonight!!  I would’ve otherwise just stayed in my room all day, but I figured that some socializing would do me good (also my photo-friend had to give me a rain check for a dinner we were supposed to have today, and I was a little disappointed), and it did!!!!  Today was reading day, so they had been studying together from early in the morning, and I just popped in to say hello and ended up chilling for three hours before heading to someone’s place for another two hours to just kind of chat (and also play some typical party games but thankfully none of them got out of hand (and I also didn’t feel left out on the alcohol front because this was in someone’s suite and there was none available)).  I was definitely the most.. boring of the group, but that’s okay, I didn’t feel like I brought down the energy, I felt like I was contributing, actually, which was a really, really lovely feeling.  Again, I’m really glad I went :)  I knew everyone in the group decently well (and everyone was great about respecting boundaries and things like that, so it was edgy enough to be fun but not so much that we were uncomfortable), so it was really comfortable just joking around with them.

[misscherriously]

JDKLSAJDLKAS SO LET ME TELL Y'ALL WHAT HAPPENED TODAY

so i went to uni for choir practice, and for the past few weeks, because i knew literally no one in the group, i kept to myself. and i would just smile and wave if anyone looked at me.

up til now.

at this point, i'd been pacing back and forth at the front of the room because i fidget a lot and can't keep still (our professor wasn't there yet + it was just the new choir members here so it was fineeee). and then: in the midst of all the chatter i was hearing in the room, one of the girls suddenly stood up and loudly proclaimed:

"WAIT JUST HOLD ON FOR A SECOND— i need to go to the bathroom." then her friend stood up. "oh yeah, i'll go with you!!" another two chimed in, "wait, we'll join—"

until finally a fifth girl cackled and said "all of us should just go!"

alongside the guys, i stifled a laugh as the rest of the girls present actually stood up to go with them— to continue gossiping in the bathrooms, i assumed. but as all of them filed out, one of them turned and laughingly gestured that i join them.

again, i hadn't interacted with any of them in a socializing way before; so basically this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to make friends because god knows i wouldn't be able to initiate shit myself dgjksagdkjas so i immediately stopped pacing and gratefully sauntered over to the last girl to join them.

but alas as i passed through the doorway with her, i slipped. the floor had been freshly polished with floor wax, you see, and my shoes lacked friction.

i slipped and laNDED ON MY ASS WITH A LOUD THWACK IN FRONT OF EVERYONE THERE.

i kinda froze in shock, legs sprawled on the floor, while the rest immediately rushed back to see me, because apparently the sound was so LOUD they could hear it from the end of the hall + they worried i broke a bone, or my teeth, or my glasses (NO BABES, I JUST BROKE MY ASS). i felt multiple hands try to help me up, and in a daze i looked around the floor, trying to figure out if any of my body parts had gone flying from the impact. then the pain went and was replaced with, of course, mortification. upon seeing that i was relatively unscathed, the girls continued on their way to the bathrooms, dragging me with them, repeatedly asking if i was okay. or if i needed to go to the clinic (which conveniently, was right across from the doorway of the crime scene). i kept telling them i was alright, and reassured that no, i did NOT need to have my ass x-rayed. and when we returned from the bathrooms, one of the girls hooked her arms with mine, declaring that she needed to ensure that i not fall on my ass again. (what was more embarrassing was that the other girls collectively agreed???) and when we returned to the choir room, we laughed about it again, this time with the guys (who'd also heard the sound of me slamming into the floor), and the girls invited me to sit next to them, which was nice. :'>>

so!!! i managed to make a few friends in exchange for my dignity and bruising, the enD and what have we learned? when you want to make friends, just fall on your ass, apparently. keep in mind that they'll probably come up with a nickname inspired from the incident, though. sigh

[kangaroosmile]

Picnic with a Fairy - Han Jisung Au

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description: Jisung and you are best friends for years but today is the day when you will confess your love for him. You thought you knew Jisung very well, still you learn something very new about him.

pairings: Han Jisung x gnreader

genre: best friends; sunset; love confession; fairy; fairy Han jisung

word count: 1.3 k

You can find more of my stories under Stray Kids Masterlist

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One last time you checked whether everything you bought earlier was in your bag. You grabbed one more blanket and looked up the weather one last time, making sure that the weather was still good in the evening.

When you left your small flat, you got your bike and headed towards the Han River. You knew there would be many people but Jisung and you found a beautiful little place where you two could spend time together without other people.

You met Jisung in middle school. You were still able to remember your first meeting as if it happened yesterday. You two had signed up into the school choir and were asked to sing a duet. In the beginning it was strange, because you two were strangers to each other but it was the beginning of a long term friendship. You didn't know when your friendship changed into something more. At least from your side.

Maybe it was, when you two graduated and danced all night next to each other.

Maybe it was, when you two went on a short trip to see the ocean. Just the two of you watching the sunset.

Maybe it was, when you two watched movies all night and fell asleep in eachothers arms.

You really couldn't tell exactly. You just knew that someday you realised it. For years you kept quiet but you couldn't stay quiet anymore. Today was the day.

When you arrived at your secret place Jisung was already there. You smiled a little when you saw him sitting there. He had his back towards you and hummed a soft melody.

“You should really record this melody. It sounds beautiful”, you whispered next to his ear, making him flinch.

He turned his head towards you and within seconds a wide smile appeared on his lips.

“One day I will get a heart attack”, he whined with a big pout on his lips. Slowly you let yourself fall down next to him and started to unpack the things you took with you.

“No way, you got me cheesecake!”, he nearly screamed, grabbing the cheesecake and opening it.

“Why don't we start with the other food and you can eat the cheesecake later?” He looked at you for a moment with disbelief in his eyes before he dug his fork into the cheesecake. "Oh my god Sungie!", you laughed while you shook your head. He was just incredible. And that's also why you liked him so much.

"What?", he asked with his mouth full of cheesecake which made you even laugh harder.

"Nothing. But does it taste good?" Now his eyes started to shine and he nodded enthusiastically. Seeing him like that made you extremely happy.

“Alright then eat your cake and after that I will show you what I also got.” While he ate his cheesecake you watched the beautiful sunset.

“It's been a while since we watched the sunset together", you whispered, watching the sunset.

“It's beautiful.” For a moment it's silent between you two. It was comfortable. Just Jisung that munched his cheesecake.

“Yes it is”, he muttered after a second. You started smiling and kept watching the sunset.

You didn't even notice that Jisung finished his cheesecake until he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“What's inside your beautiful mind?”, he whispered, poking your side, showing you his beautiful smile. You turned your head towards him.

“I have a lot on my mind, Jisungie”, you whispered, softly carrying his knee.

“You know, you can always talk to me, right?”, he mumbled, leaning a bit towards you.

“I know, Sungie. You know I already planned to tell you something”, you said, suddenly feeling all nervous. “To be honest, I know this could ruin our friendship but I can't be silent about this anymore.” You could feel his glance on you.

“What are you talking about?”, he whispered, quite confused. You stayed silent for another moment.

“I don't know when it started. But something changed. At first I didn't recognise that feeling but now I know that feeling.” Carefully you grabbed his hand. “I like you. Like more than friends. I like you for a while now and I can't keep it to myself anymore. Maybe this will ruin your friendship, I'm sorry.” Jisung didn't say anything which made you quite anxious. Suddenly you heard a soft whine from Jisung. With big eyes you stared at him. "Jisung what's happening?", you asked anxious, seeing him with eyes pressed together and a painful grimace. "Hey, talk to me Sungie. You scare me!" Jisung was bending over and was still whining.

"My back, my back!", he whispered. "It's burning." Fastly you opened his jacket and undress him.

"Jisung", you whispered shocked as you saw what was on his back. "You have… these are… wings?" Slowly they spread out and Jisung let out a little sigh.

"Thank you", he then whispered, now looking towards you again.

"What?", you asked dumbfounded. You were more than confused. "I'm sorry but what just happened?" Jisung flapped his wings softly. They looked beautiful in soft blue and green. "Am I dreaming? Is this really real?"

"I'm sorry, love. It must be a bit overwhelming for you", he muttered. "I can tell you, you are not sleeping. This is real." Carefully he brushed over your hand that was laying next to his. "You probably have a lot of questions."

"Kinda", you mumbled, still staring at him with big eyes.

"Where should I start…", Jisung whispered after a short silence between you. "My mother is human just like you are but my dad was a fairy. They met when my dad got lost and went out of their forest. My mother took care of him and they fell in love but my dad had to leave again", he started to explain.

"Have you ever met him?" He nodded slightly.

"Yes a few times."

"In the beginning I didn't even know that he was a fairy. When I turned 13 they told me. It is the age fairies normally get their wings. It's a really special moment. There is normally a big party and you will officially be part of the community." You could sense that something was wrong.

"But?", you asked and raised one eyebrow.

"But because I'm not a full blood fairy it's different. My dad knew that I'm not the first child of a fairy and a human but my dad still hoped that his blood was strong enough so I would get my wings at 13."

"That's kinda… that's kinds stupid to be honest. It must have been a lot of pressure on you", you mumbled, side hugging the young man.

"Well yeah." He had a sad smile on his face and nodded.

"But why now?"

"My dad couldn't tell me when I would get my wings or even if I ever got my wings. I studied a lot of books. Tried to find answers.

Some said, they could appear when the person you love, loves you too and you two are soulmates", he explained, still playing with your hand. "I guess… I guess they were not wrong." His last words were nothing more than a whisper.

"You love me?" After a moment, Jisung nodded.

"Yes I think I love you." You could feel your heart beat faster and your hands started to shake.

"And I like you so… that's why your wings appeared", you whispered, smiling. "They look beautiful." With big eyes Jisung stared back at you.

"Thank you." He leaned in and gave you a kiss on your cheek, which made you giggle.

"Can I maybe have a kiss here?", you asked shyly and pointed at your lips. With a soft laugh Jisung nodded and leaned in again. The kiss was soft and light. You could feel his hands wandering towards your face, making you feel safe, while you softly hugged him.

When you backed away, you just stared at him, smiling.

"What do you think, should we eat now before the sun is completely down?" You could hear a loud growl and started to laugh. "I guess that's a yes." That made Jisung whine and hide his face in the crook of your neck.

"That's so embarrassing but yes that sounds good. Let's eat."

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[no-one-fuck-a-man]

Berry Blues

Season One

Part Ten - (Ballad) Oh, This Is Just Getting More And More Complicated

Quinn Fabray x Reader

Summary: With this weeks assignment lead you to meeting Quinn’s parents, your sister getting a crazy crush on your teacher, and the ex-cheerleader being kicked out. And thanks to your father, you finally realised the feeling that had been ailing you for so long.

Word Count: 5,412

WARNINGS: N/A

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You were throwing a paper ball back and forth with Matt and Mike, annoying your teammate's whose heads it flew over, as Mr Schue walked in.

The teacher headed straight for the board, picked up a green marker, and wrote something upon it. The three of you turned as soon as he began speaking. Giving the man your full attention. Leaving Mike to hold on to the paper ball.

"Ballad. From Middle English 'balade'," he said, walking further towards the class, pointing towards the board with the marker, "Who knows what this word means?"

"It's a male duck," Brittany said as others raised their hands.

"No, honey, that's a mallard."

"Kurt."

"A ballad is a love song," he told the teacher.

"Sometimes, but they don't always express love. Ballads are stories set to music, which is why they're the perfect storm of self-expression. Stories and music are the way we express feelings that we can't get out any other way."

"Oh, Mr Schue's becoming a bard, everyone."

"A bard?" Santana asked.

"Yeah," you replied with a nod, "You know, like off D'n'D."

"You are such a nerd," Quinn commented.

"It's fun!"

"Okay," your teacher interrupted your little "conversation" with the girls. To carry on with what he was saying, "Now, Sectionals are in a few weeks. And there's a new rule this year. We have to perform." He pointed over to the board with the pen still in hand, "A ballad."

"Looks like my weekly letter to the Ohio Show Choir Committee finally paid off."

"Oh, well, thank you for that, dear sister," you sassed, while Puck nodded to the girl sarcastically when she smiled brightly at him.

"Okay, so here's our assignment for this week. I'm going to pair you off, and I want you to pick a ballad to sing to your partner."

"Pass!"

"Nuh-uh, Y/N." Mr Schue shook his head at you, pointing the pen your way. "Everyone. And I mean everyone has to participate." He then leaned down to peer into your eyes. "You gotta look them right in the, find the emotion you want to express, and make them feel it."

"I pick Quinn," Finn spoke.

"Gross."

"No, no, no, no, no." The teacher shook his finger at the boy. "Too easy. Your partners will be chosen by fate."

"You playing matchmaker now, Mr Schue?" you asked, while everyone else 'oohed', "Because a part of me thinks that, that, somehow has to be illegal, in some way."

""Ooh", yeah. I put all your names in this hat." He picked up a black top hat to show everyone. "Whoever you choose is your partner."

"For life, or...?"

Faintly, you heard Brittany whisper to Santana, "I bet that duck's in that hat."

"It would make a cool change from it being a rabbit," you called over.

Santana raised her hand, "But Matt's out sick today. He had to go to the hospital 'cause they found a spider in his ear," she finished off with a giggle.

"New fear, being realised," you stated amongst your cringing classmates.

"I told him he should have slept in the tent instead of the hammock when we went camping," Mike stated with a shake of his head, you humming along in agreement.

"Artie's also out," Tina announced, "He had to go somewhere with his mom for the week."

"Uh. I guess I'll just have to put my name in the hat for now," he said, "Who's up first?"

Puckerman's chair skid back slightly as he raised to his feet, walking over to the hat, he picked out a slip of paper and read out:

"Mercedes."

Said woman rolled her eyes at who she was lumbered with.

Tina repeatedly nudged you, from where you sat beside her, with a smile. Obviously wanting you to go next.

"Okay, okay, damn." You were fishing in the hat, hand mixing the contents to more so get a random partner. All the while looking straight into your teacher's eyes, "I hope I get you, Mr Schue," you joked, even managing to get a small huff from the man.

Pulling out your own piece of paper, you glanced at the name scribbled upon it, "Oh God." You sneered humouredly. "Quinn."

The blonde rolled her eyes at both you picking her and your actions as you walked back to where you were previously sat, peering over your shoulder to look at your tall friend.

"Don't worry, Finn, I'll try not to make her fall too in love with me."

"Shut up," the boy laughed, stretching out his leg to nudge your shoulder with his foot.

Deciding it was his turn, Finn arose and picked his own partner.

"Kurt."

Looking over your shoulder at the boy he had just been paired up with, you saw his excited, breathy nature.

'Oh no... this was not gonna be good'

"Mr Schue, I don't know if I can do this with another guy."

"The Fates have spoken, Finn."

Then it was Tina's turn. Quickly glancing over her shoulder, she said, "Other Asian."

"Wait, is that what it says?"

Then Santana. The girl chuckled happily and said, "Brittany." The blonde gasped happily before jumping to her feet and clapping.

"Gay," you muttered, mostly to yourself.

Your sister hopped down and made her way over to where the hat sat upon the piano while speaking, "Looks like I get you, Mr Schue."

The teacher looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Uh, you know what? Maybe we should just wait until Matt gets back."

"The Fates talked, Mr Schue," Finn repeated the same thing the teacher had told him not too long ago.

"Yeah." You nodded with a cocky smile. "Don't talk the talk if you can't walk the walk. Also, would you mind clarifying what kind of songs you want us to sing?" You were having way too much fun teasing him this way.

"Why don't you let Mr Schuester and I demonstrate?" Rachel advised, turning to the piano player. All the while, you were trying to hold off your incoming laughter with Tina. As you watched Mercedes slowly slide a finger towards her mouth, in a vomiting motion, "Brad, 'Endless Love' in B-flat, please. It's my favourite duet."

"I really don't think that's an appropriate song, Rachel."

"Why? It's a great song, and it's a perfect ballad," your sister reasoned.

"Yeah, I really like that song, Mr Schue," Finn added, the boy also loving the awkward position your teacher was in.

"What's the worst that could happen?" you asked before laughing along with everyone else.

Soon enough, Brad was playing the tune to the song, and your sister and Mr Schue were singing.

You returned your gaze to the two singing. Only to see your sister trying to round the piano to your teacher. The man began to walk the opposite way, as to avoid her.

'Oh my, God. No'

Tell me how much you care

Rachel speed walked to the man, but he had rolled a chair in between the two before she could reach him.

'This is disgusting', You thought as a cringe drew upon your face.

Oh, yeah

'Oh, no!'

"You, seeing this shit, too?" you whispered to Tina, who turned to face you and nodded, "Fuck. I was hoping I was imagining it."

I'll be that fool

For you

"Don't. Don't do that," you told Tina as she lit up her phone, raising it to wave into the air along with Mercedes and Brittany. "No. Why are you doing this to me? Mike?! You traitor!" You hissed to the boy who had joined in. "You." You pointed to Quinn. "Wipe that smile off your face." The smiling girl laughed at you.

My love

My love, my love

My endless love

You were unable to keep the sneer off your face as you watched to two finish the song, only to continue starring at one another. Rachel with infatuation and Mr Schue, thankfully, awkward and disturbed by what just happened.

"Okay," he said, as everyone clapped lightly, "Something like that." Then he walked away.

Okay, you take it back.

That is the worst that could happen.

"Have you ever noticed how cute Mr Schue is?" Rachel asked, walking up beside you later that day.

"Um, first of all, no. Because I don't like men. And secondly, ew."

"Aww, come on-"

"No, Rachel. I am not going to play into your stupid crush on our teacher."

"It's not stupid," her voice was stern when she stopped walking in the middle of the hallway, you doing the same to face.

"Tell me if you think the same thing at the end of this week."

"I will," she called after you as you walked away.

"Sure you will."

'She won't'

---

"-The Chastity Ball is so important to your father."

"I'm sorry, what? That's a real thing?" you asked, coming around the corner, Quinn looking at you confused.

"What are you doing here?"

"Your dad let me in, then I think he said he was going to get a drink. He offered me one, but I said no." You then pointed to yourself with both hands. "Responsible."

"Okay, why are you here?"

"To practice and pick out the song for the ballad'y thing, remember?"

"Oh."

"What?" her mother asked, looking between the two of you.

"We've been partnered up for an assignment in Glee Club. I'm Y/N, by the way."

She shook your hand while nodding at your words. "Judy," she replied before moving to stand behind her daughter, the sound of a zipper sliding before getting jammed reaching your ears.

"Hmm. That's odd. We had this custom made a month ago."

"I had a really big lunch today at school," Quinn explained, "Really big tacos."

"Oh, you got the tacos? I got the burgers. And also weight fluctuates." You gestured to the younger blonde. "Hey, you might just need to pee."

Judy gave off a soft laugh, smiling as she placed her chin near her daughter's face, looking at her through the mirror.

"No worries, sweetie." You furrowed your brows at the sad, almost knowing look on the woman's face as she rubbed up and down Quinn's arms.

'She knows'

"I'll just take it down to the tailor tomorrow. And we'll let it out a little bit. The problem here, honey, is," she sighed, "You know, I. I don't think you've been getting enough exercise ever since you quit the Cheerios."

Your eyebrows raised at the woman's words, shocked that she would say them.

Especially in front of a stranger.

"I think she looks great."

"I'm not saying that. It's just... am I right?"

"Yeah, yeah. That's right," Quinn nodded, taking whatever out she could get.

"I mean, you used to spend hours every day doing backflips and high kicks-"

"What's a 'high kick'? It sound's dangerous." You gasped softly, "Quinn, do you do karate and have never told me."

The blonde looked over at you with something that seemed to be an amused glare.

You smiled knowingly, Quinn rolled her eyes, having been found out that she didn't really find you to be all that annoying.

"-And now, I mean, now you spend all your free time sitting on a stool in the dark singing show tunes."

"In the dark? Not gonna lie, that's kinda creepy."

"Do you know how many calories you burn singing? Hmm? Not very many."

'Wow', you mouthed behind the woman before... "Well, that's not entirely true. There is a way."

"Really?" Judy asked, turning to face you curiously, Quinn peering at you from behind her, knowing what you were like and not liking where this was going.

"Aha. Well, it involves "singing"," you said, raising your hands to put 'singing' in air quotes, "You see, what you do is-"

"Judy!" Quinn was about to interrupt you, the exact same time her father did, "Glenn Beck is on!"

"Who's Glenn Beck-? Wait. The conservative conspiracy theorist guy? Oh my, God. I'm in a conservative house. Yeah, that makes so much sense," you finished off in a whisper as you looked around the large room.

Judy gasped excitedly as Quinn's father, who previously introduced himself as Russel, entered the room.

"Oh, wait. Hold on," he said, covering his eyes, "Hold on. No, I don't want to see."

"Daddy, it's not like we're getting married," Quinn giggled, unable to look at her father, as he came closer and closer, peaking through his fingers to see.

"I don't want to- Oh," he breathed, arm falling from his face to gesture to her, pulling her in to give her a kiss to the cheek. You spotted Judy pick up her glass out of the corner of your eye, "Oh, look at you."

"Gross- Oh my, God, that's not what this is, right?" you asked, raising your hands to your chest, "That's not why I'm here, am I?" You leaned closer to Quinn. "Is this all just some ploy to marry you off onto me, isn't it? I knew it."

"I wouldn't marry you in a million years."

"Well, you legally can't, right now."

Quinn sighed, placing her palm to your face like she has done so many times before, and pushed you away before turning to her parents, "Ignore them. They just like to get on my nerves."

You laughed evilly to yourself at that.

"Speaking of getting married." Russel waved a hand your way, moving to sit beside his wife on the armrest of the leather chair, "How's that boy you've been dating?"

"Oh, trust me, you don't want her marrying Finn. That's just 'ew'," you joked.

"You're his best friend," Quinn pointed out.

"Yeah." You gave a single, deep nod. "And as his best friend, I know, better than anyone, that that's just gross."

"Yeah, yeah," Judy continued from her husband, "He's not, uh, pressuring you at all, is he?"

Oh, this was not a conversation they should be having with you there.

So, you just stood where you were. Watching. Awkwardly.

"No," Quinn almost scoffed, "No, he's a gentleman."

"I'm glad to hear that." Russel smiled... yeah, he's definitely had some botox... and it looks pretty botched too. Unless his smile is just that creepy. "That's why I'm inviting him over for dinner on Sunday."

"Oh," Judy chirped, "Wonderful."

"Refresher?"

"Honey, I don't want you to lift a finger for me. I'm your wife."

"Aaand, suddenly I'm in the fifties." A swift backhand to your abdomen from the younger blonde as you watched her mother rise from where she sat, "Ow."

"My little lemon drop," Russel said, slapping his wives behind, which you silently heaved at beside Quinn.

"Can I actually take you up on that drink offer? I think I might need it after seeing that."

"I don't think so," Judy pointed your way as the blonde man began making his way from the room.

"I gotta go catch Glenn. Y/N," he turned to face you, "Would you like to join us in watching Glenn Beck?"

"Oh, uh. Thank you for the offer," you began politely, "But, quite frankly, I think I'd rather eat glass."

Another backhanded slap, this time to your arm.

"Ow! Stop abusing me, Fabray."

"Daddy, what they mean is, we have an assignment we have to work on," Quinn said for you.

"Ah." The man nodded, then left the room entirely.

"Wow. So, those are your parents," you said once Judy had followed him from the room.

"Yep," she said, popping the 'P', spinning around to look at herself in the mirror once again, sighing deeply.

"Everything." You moved your hands as if miming fixing a puzzle. "Starting to come together."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You looked the girl up and down.

"You know exactly what I mean."

"You're lucky neither of them kicked you out, you know?"

"I'm too likeable."

The blonde scoffed.

"Rude... so," you said after a little while of silence.

"'So' what?"

"Your house is huge."

"It's not that big."

"Ah-ha, you live in a mansion."

"It's not a mansion."

"It's a fucking mansion," you breathed.

"Come on." Quinn grabbed your belt, beginning to drag you out of the room. "Let's go to my room and get this over with."

"You know how that sounds right. Also, I think your parents would like us to be married before that. See, they are pawning you off on me. Also, you don't seem too excited."

The blonde sighed harshly.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

---

"So, how was working on your assignment with Quinn?" LeRoy asked during dinner.

"Good." You nodded. "Got some work done. I also met her parents."

"Oh? How was that?"

"It was like meeting middle-aged Barbie and Ken."

"No wonder they had Quinn," Rachel commented, and you kicked her lightly under the table.

"Conservative Barbie and Ken."

"Ah! They didn't give you any trouble, did they?" Hiram asked this time.

"No, it was pretty much okay. I was still in most of my work gear, so I think they were too scared to."

"I don't think it was the work gear that did that."

You stared at your sister for a few seconds. "I can't tell if that's supposed to be a compliment or not."

"You pick."

You glared at her lightly over your meal. Then gestured your fork over to the rectangular box that sat beside her plate, "What's in the box? Gwenyth Paltrow's head can't fit in that."

Hiram laughed while LeRoy bowed his shaking head, "Do you really have to say that at the dinner table?"

You shrugged, "It was funny, though."

"I actually got a gift for Mr Schue."

'Oh, you've got to be kidding me'

"That's sweet."

'You don't know why she's doing it, dad'

"What is it?" you finally spoke up again.

She slid the box over, letting you open it up and see.

"It's a... tie. With... gold stars, and a music note..."

"That's a treble clef," Rachel informed you, "Did you forget everything I taught you about music notes?"

"Oh, yeah. That just all came screeching back to me."

You handed the boxed tie back over to your sister, watching as she placed her plate in the sink and strode from the room.

"She has a crush on her teacher, doesn't she?" LeRoy stated rather than asked.

Yet, you still decided to answer.

"Yep."

Hiram cleared his throat. "I think I would have prefered it if it was Gwenyth Paltrow's head."

---

"I can't believe you told your mom. What if she tells my mom?" Quinn rushed out.

"Oh, God. What now?" you asked, sliding up beside the two.

"Sh-Sh-She's not-"

"Half the school knows. Your mom knows. Who else do you want to tell?"

"She's not- She's not gonna tell anybody."

Quinn poked a finger into the boy's chest. "You're wrong. I'm right. I'm smart. You're dumb."

"Well, you can't fault that logic," you commented with a shrug. Looking around you to spot a small group of your friends chattering together and peering over at the couple. As you leaned into the wall.

"No, no, no! You're wrong! I'm right! I'm right! Okay?!"

"Did you really just try and shush her?" you asked the boy as Quinn stormed off, "It's like you have a death wish or something."

"She doesn't talk to other moms," he called after her before turning around with a sigh.

"How do you explain her constant irritation with you?" Kurt asked, coming to stop in front of Finn, lowering his voice almost conspiratorially, talking slowly, as if to dumb down the words for him, "It's because she's a girl."

"Uh? Sexist."

"No, I think it's the pregnancy hormones or something. They make her kind of nuts."

You then pointed to Finn, waggling your finger at the tall boy, "That's way more accurate."

Then you saw it.

Quinn.

Striding her way back towards the three of you.

"Uh-oh. Here she comes for round two," you said, "Good luck, buddy."

But you were sorely mistaken when the angered blonde said nothing to her boyfriend and instead stood in front of you. Twisting a hand into your shirt, grabbing a fistful of the material, before dragging you away with her.

"Wait- Wait- Wait- What have I done?" Looking over your shoulder at the boys. "You guys wanna help me? She's trying to steal my soul."

"We have to actually figure out what song we're gonna sing."

You groaned, flinging your head back as you continued to be pulled behind her.

"I don't care. Can't you just pick?"

"I'm not doing all of the work, Y/N."

"I still have to sing it with you," you pointed out. Only to receive a firey glare from the blonde. Gulping, you changed your mind, "Yeah. Let's go figure out what song to sing."

Later that day, you were getting ready to drive Quinn home, hand hovering over the doorknob, about to leave the house, when a knock came at your door.

"Strange. Okay." Opening it to see your sister, standing beside Mr Schuester. "Uh, what the hell?"

"I'm just dropping Rachel back off."

"You went to Mr Schue's?" you asked sceptically. Rachel rolled her eyes and made her way past you, stopping dead in her tracks when she spotted Quinn straightening out her coat.

"What's she doing here?" she asked you.

"We're partnered up, remember? Have to rehearse somewhere."

"Oh, yeah." Your teacher smiled. "How is that going for the two of you?"

Quinn came forward now, "Well, we finally picked the song because someone said 'no' to every suggestion." She looked at you pointedly.

"Why are they all love songs?!"

"They're not all love songs," Quinn said, walking through the door towards your car. You, following after her.

"They're all love songs. Every. Single. One you suggested was a love song. Are you trying to tell me something, Fabray?"

"Ha ha."

"Thanks for bringing her back, Mr Schue," you said, before turning to point at where your sister stood in the doorway of your home, "This isn't over."

Only to gain another roll of her eyes, and a door slammed in your face in return.

Strangely, you were used to both coming from her.

---

You were finishing up some homework when your phone began to buzz.

"Hello?" you answered, without looking at the caller ID, startling at who's voice you heard on the other end of the line.

Or rather, how it sounded.

"Y/N?" Quinn whimpered down the line.

"What's wrong?" You sat up from where you were lounging on your bed.

"Can- Can you come over, please? I need your help."

"That Y/N?" You heard Finn's far off voice. You could tell that Quinn nodded, assuming the boy gestured for the phone when you heard him speak through the receiver.

"Can you come over?"

"Sure." You hopped up, pulling on your shoes as best you could with your phone between your ear and shoulder, grabbing your jacket and keys. "What's going on."

"Her parents are kicking her out."

"Why?" You pressed as you rushed down the stairs and out the door.

"I told them she was pregnant."

"Finn," you sighed as you slid into your car.

"I know."

"Listen, I'm gonna have to let you go. I'll be there soon."

With that, you hung up and started your drive over to Quinn's house.

'Could this year get any more complicated?'

"Why are you here?" Russel almost growled as he saw you on the other side of the now open door.

"Apparently, I was summoned."

Barging past him, you nodded once to Judy before spotting Finn making his way down the stairs.

"You have your car?"

"Yeah," you said to the boy, "What? You think I teleported?"

"Don't joke right now," he pleaded, pushing a heavy suitcase into your chest, "We only have ten minutes."

"Ten minutes for what?"

Is there a bomb, or some shit, you don't know about?

"I'll tell you after, could you just put this in your car and then come help us?"

"Okay, okay." You nodded, turning to walk out the door, Quinn parents staring you down as you left, while Finn rushed back upstairs. "Ah, so this is why I'm here," you said to yourself, "I'm the heavy-lifting chauffeur. "May I take your bags, ma'am?"," you finished, slamming the boot of your car on the lone suitcase, making your way back into the Fabray's house, or rather mansion.

"Which room?" you asked Judy, who was still standing in the entryway. Russel, nowhere to be seen. She was about to talk, pointing towards her daughter's bedroom. However, you interrupted her, "The one with all of the clattering, and things probably being thrown about. Got it."

It was strange. And so utterly surprising, when as soon as you pushed the cracked door of Quinn's bedroom open, the blonde girl threw herself into your arms, only to cry into your chest.

"Oh, well, this is new. I'd probably really like it if I wasn't worried about you crying."

See. You can be sweet.

"And you're crying on my only clean shirt."

And, you ruined it!

You rubbed softly up and down her spine, leaning in to mutter into her ear, "Let's get you outta here, yeah? Then I'll hug you as much as you want, and you guys can explain what the fuck is happening."

Quinn nodded against your chest, sniffing deeply once, then turning to finish packing the last bag.

You reached over for the largest bag, intending to help by being your newfound role of 'heavy-lifting chauffeur'. That was until you were stopped by Finn.

"No, dude. I've got that one. I'm a quarterback."

"And I lift bricks and bags of cement, for a living." You threw the duffel bag over your shoulder, with something looking like great ease, reaching down to lift a backpack with your free hand. "I've got this."

Then you left, leaving the two teenagers to watch after you in shock.

---

"Honey, how many times have I told you, you've got to turn your T-shirt's right-side-out before you-" Finn's mother trailed off. Finding Quinn, standing in the middle of the basement's staircase, with you not too far behind her.

"Uhm... mom, Quinn's parents threw her out. Could she stay here for a couple of days?"

Carol nodded, "Yeah, of course, she can." She turned to Quinn. "Honey, you can stay here as long as you want."

'Now, that's how a mother should act'

"Do you need a place to stay too?" Carol asked, turning to you now.

"Oh," you began, surprised at her kind gesture, "Uh, no. Thank you. But, I was just helping these guys, lifting basically everything. I'm the muscle. Huh!" you yelled. Tensing your arms in front of your body, Hulk Hogan style.

"Okay then," she chuckled.

"Quinn, you can stay in my bed. I'll take the couch."

"Dude, you won't fit on the couch. You hardly fit in the bed."

"I'll take the couch," Quinn said.

"You're not sleeping on a couch in your condition," Carol told the girl.

"How about we just do the smart thing?" you butted in, "Quinn, you can stay over at my place tonight. And then, by tomorrow, you can have somewhere all set up for you to sleep here. And I won't have to listen to Finn complain about his back hurting for the next few days. It all makes sense."

"Are you sure?" Quinn asked.

"Positive." You nodded, looking over your shoulder at her packed bags. "Now, which one of these has your pyjamas in them? Nope, never mind, can't be assed looking through all of those, you can sleep in a pair of mine. It's already way too late, considering it's- Nine-fifteen?! Why is this day so long?"

---

"You know-" Your father's voice startled you, making you jump out of your skin. Where you sat at the foot of your bed, arms folded across the back of your desk chair, chin resting upon them. "-Watching a girl as she's sleeping is really creepy."

Looking over, you saw LeRoy standing in your doorway, leaning against the wood.

You hadn't even realised that the door had opened.

"I know," you whispered back, matching his tone as not to wake the sleeping blonde in your bed, "And I'm sorry I didn't ask if she could stay over, it's just... she got kicked out and..."

"This the same girl who was napping on our couch before?"

"Yeah." You nodded. "She... she's pregnant. Finn was an idiot-"

"Wait, Finn? Finn got her pregnant."

'No'

"Yeah," you sighed with a nod. Gesturing towards the girl with your head, "Quinn's his girlfriend."

"Quinn? The girl your sister hates because she likes Finn?"

"Yeah." You nodded again.

"Well, this is just a mess."

"You're telling me... anyway, he told her parents in the worst way possible, and they kicked her out. I said she could stay here tonight while they sort a place for her to stay at his place."

LeRoy nodded now, watching as you raised a hand, rubbing it over your forehead and eyes.

"Hey," he gestured backwards with his head for you to follow him, "Come here."

As quietly as you could, you got up from your seat and followed your father from the room, softly closing the door behind you.

"What's up-?

"You like her, don't you?"

"I... well, yeah?" you stuttered out, "If I didn't like her, why would I let her stay here? She's... she's my friend."

"I feel like she's a lot more than that to you. Or, at least you want her to be."

"Dad." You smiled and shook your head, unable to meet his eyes, as your own began to burn. "I- I- I... I feel this, this... feeling when I see her and Finn being all coupley together. I get all cold, and it feels like there's a boulder in my chest, and then it sinks down to my stomach. It just makes me want to curl up into a ball, sometimes. And it's even worse when Puck is around her. Trying to worm his way into having a relationship with her. It's the same feeling, only that it also feels like I'm engulfed in fire."

He hummed. "How long have you been feeling this?"

"I don't know. A few months, I guess." You shrugged. "Ever since the winning football game."

Another hum.

"I think what you may be feeling us jealously."

"I'm not..." you began to protest with a humoured smile. Until it fell, and realisation dawned on you, "Oh my, God. Oh my, God."

"So, you gonna admit that you like her, now?"

Your hands were in your hair, fingertips pressed to your scalp as everything rushed through you.

"Dad, what am I gonna do?" He wrapped you up in a hug at that point, letting some of your tears fall onto his shirt. "Was being sixteen this hard when you were my age?"

"Yes," he chuckled and nodded into your shoulder, "But only for different reasons. Mainly being in the closet."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." You sniffed as you pulled back from the hug, wiping the last of your tears away.

"It's in the past now. But, I remember what it feels like to have a crush on someone when they're with somebody else."

"At least they weren't pregnant, with somebody else wanting them, and who is probably also straight."

LeRoy chuckled and shook his head, looking to the floor.

"Give it time." He patted your shoulder. "She may just surprise you."

"I feel like that may not be the greatest advice to give someone."

"And I get a very gay feeling from her," he said, walking backwards towards his bedroom, pointing towards you, "You know how good my gaydar is."

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes.

"Get some sleep."

He was right.

You actually needed to get some sleep.

It was, after all, you checked your watch, twelve-thirty.

"Man, this day's been long."

You began heading downstairs, intending to spend the night on the couch. Taking some form of satisfaction that Quinn would be the one more likely to be woken up by your sister's vocal warm-ups, unable to wait for their reactions, come the following morning.

You were just glad you were going to be able to skip singing the obvious love song you and Quinn were going to sing together, thanks to what the rest of the group had planned for the next day.

-----

Prev Part | Next Part

[winterscaptain]

permanent.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: just in case you missed it, i published a family tree for the hotchners! at this point, jack is married to bella and living in d.c. she’s a journalist for the washington division at the new york times and is generally pretty awesome. as always, lemme know what you think!

words: 3.1k warnings: language, hospital setting, canon-typical injury

summary: “write your injuries in dust, your benefits in marble” - benjamin franklin. au!december 2035

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

“Come on, Soph! Go, baby, go!”

Your daughter is a vision. She streaks across the field, her green and yellow uniform almost melding with the grass as she keeps control of the ball. You can’t see her face too clearly, but you know she’s scanning the field with the same intensity you see in Aaron’s face beside you. 

Isaac plops down on the bench behind you, home from Los Angeles for winter break. “How’s she doing?” 

Aaron half-turns his head, keeping his eyes on the field. “Going for a hat trick - if she makes it, it’ll be her third this season.” 

“Excellent.” 

Caroline, down the field with her choir group, lounges happily between the legs of one of her friends, eating popcorn. When she sees you looking, she waves at you.

You wave back for a moment before your attention’s caught by a collective gasp and Aaron’s hand shoots to your forearm. You turn back to the field, but you missed it. 

Everyone’s moving and you don’t know why. 

With shocking agility for his age, Aaron all but leaps down the bleachers and onto the field. Your eyes search for Soph, but there are too many people on the field, all of a sudden. 

Caroline’s standing on the seat of the bleachers, her friends steadying her with their hands on her arms and ankles. 

There’s a hand, soft and scared on your shoulder. “Mom?”

You open your arms, and your nearly-grown son ducks under it, curling into you as you stand. “Do you want your earbuds?” 

You feel him nod and you pull them out of your bag. His trembling quiets a little after he fits them in his ears. 

There’s a clamber, and Caroline appears at your side. “What happened?” 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t watching.” 

She exhales, shaky and worried. “Where’s Dad?” 

“On the field.”

But where? 

You find Aaron, his salt-and-pepper hair stark in the autumn light. He’s talking to the referee, his brows low. 

You hear sirens. 

+++

“Oh, hey! What’s up, Mom?” 

You almost hate to ruin his mood. 

“Jack, honey, can you get down to the house at any point tonight?” 

You try not to grip the handle above the car door too tightly as Aaron races through the suburban streets, following the ambulance. Soph was definitely lucid when they loaded her up, but definitely in a lot of pain. 

“Ye - Yeah...Why?” 

“Soph’s headed to the ER - something happened on the soccer pitch today and her knee…” You shake your head. “I dunno. Her knee looks really bad.” 

“Fuck. Okay.” You hear him shuffle around and click his mouse - checking his schedule. “I can get down there after my last meeting at four - I’m headed there in a few minutes, but won’t be able to swing any earlier. I’d cancel it, but it’s literally SecDef and the Joint Chiefs and -” 

“That’s fine - I just need someone at the house with the kids until one of us can get back. Elliot’s at baseball practice until six and I’m not sure if -” 

“I’ll be there. I’ll get El and then I’ll swing by for Isaac and Caro if they’re still with y’all down there.” 

You glance over at Aaron and nod. He heaves a sigh of relief and mouths Thank you. 

“Thanks, Jack.” 

“Yeah. See you soon. Love you.” 

“Love you, too.”

+++

When you’re finally allowed in to see Sophia, her eyes are red and puffy with tears. Her right leg is braced and elevated at the knee. 

Her doctor explains the situation - dislocated knee and splintered patella with a torn meniscus and ACL. “This kind of traumatic knee injury poses a couple of issues…” 

He explains that the rehabilitation and surgery needs for both the ACL and meniscus are exceedingly different, and “It’s entirely possible Miss Sophia will experience permanent joint damage. However, we won’t know that until we have an orthopaedic surgeon look at it tomorrow.” 

“What about sports? Can I still play?” Soph tries to sit up farther, but Aaron’s arm shoots out, locking her against the bed across her shoulders. 

The doctor looks hesitant, and it’s all she needs to burst into tears again. Aaron moves, sitting on the side of the bed and wrapping her up in his arms. He looks over her head at you and your lower lip disappears into your mouth as you meet his gaze. 

You shift your attention to your other children sitting patiently behind you.

Caroline’s practically bit her nails to the quick - her hands looking more and more like her Aunt Emily’s as the moments pass. 

Isaac’s been sitting in the wide windowsill for the entire afternoon, his headphones on, staring out the window, his mouth tight and fingers tearing into the foam stress ball you keep in your purse. 

We’ll need another one of those. Or five.

 You get a phone call, and you step out. “Hey, Jack.” 

“Hey. Just got Elliot. We’re headed over to the hospital now. How’s she doing?” 

You sigh and press a hand to your forehead. 

“Oh, shit. That bad?” He asks. 

You don’t comment on his tell pickup. It’s in his blood, at this point. “Yeah. She’s definitely out for the rest of the season, and we’re looking at some long-term stuff, too.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Hey! I’m still here and she’s gonna kick your ass if you keep swearing in front of me, dude.” Elliot shouts from the back and it almost makes you smile. 

“I’m actually inclined to agree with you, Jack. We’ve got a dislocated and splintered patella in addition to a torn meniscus and ACL. It’s going to be a long rehab.” 

You hear a deep sigh into the bluetooth system in Jack’s car. “Well, I’ll stay here for the duration.” 

“No, no honey it’s alright. Your dad is home full-time and you’ve got a huge project reaching critical stages. Your room is all ready for you, but you really don’t have to hang around if you can’t manage the drive every day. And Bella -”

“Bells is looped in. She’s fine. She’s more than happy to tag out if we need to. Her deadlines are really loose right now what with the whole ‘nothing going on in Arlington’ thing this week. She’s heartbroken for Soph and wants to help where she can.” 

“Alright.” 

“Hey,” He huffs, sounding a lot like his dad. “I’ll let you go. I’ll text when I’m outside.” 

“Okay. Thanks, bud.” 

“Of course,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Anytime.” 

+++

Sophia’s sleeping when Alice and Hank come to visit later in the evening. Aaron went home a couple hours after Jack, planning to tag out with you later so you could get some sleep in your own bed before work tomorrow. 

Alice immediately embraces you, all but falling into your lap as you hold her. She’s shaking.

“Is she okay?” 

You push her back, smoothing some wayward edges at her hairline. “She will be.” 

Alice’s dark eyes fill with tears, and you brush them off her cheeks as they fall. 

“She’ll need your help, though. It’s gonna be a long time before we figure out what’s permanent and what’s not.” 

Alice nods and retreats, sitting in the plastic chair by Soph’s side, folding her arms on the mattress and laying her head on them. “Hey, Sofa,” she whispers, though Soph can’t hear her. 

“I haven’t heard that one in a while,” you tell her. Sofa is a nickname Derek gave Sophia when she was little. No big meaning to it, but it stuck. 

You wouldn’t be surprised if she stayed there all night. 

Hank lingers by the door. In the shadow of the room, you could easily mistake him for Derek, but that concerned pull at the corners of his eyes screams Savannah. 

Eventually, he crosses the room and sits on the little lounger beside you. 

He takes your hand and you kiss his knuckles. “I bet this isn’t how you wanted to spend your winter break, huh?” 

A little laugh leaves him. “Maybe not, but little Miss Thing over here dragged me out the door before I could get two words in edgewise.” He gestures vaguely toward Alice and you actually smile. 

“Yeah. In my experience, Morgan women don’t fuck around.” 

“You got that right,” comes a voice from the doorway. It’s Savannah, fresh off her shift and still in her white coat and scrubs. She scours over Sophia’s charts and checks on her before sitting on your other side. 

“Do you want the bad news or the good-but-also-kind-of-bad news?” She asks, almost inaudible. You glance up at Soph but Savannah shakes her head. “She’s out - those pain meds will leave this entire visit a blur.” 

You sigh. “Fine. Hit me with the bad shit.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” 

Savannah rests her elbows on her knees. “I’ve seen a knee injury like this exactly once before. No matter what you do, they can’t and don’t always heal right. She could need a mobility device permanently, even after she’s healed, and I can tell you now she won’t play again.” 

That’s okay. She’s okay. 

Better soccer goes than her life. 

Soccer is her life. 

You only know that Alice can hear everything when her shoulders start to shake. She doesn’t make any noise as she cries. She’s like her dad that way. Hank stands and places a hand between her shoulder blades, but says nothing. 

“Is that the worst of it?” 

Savannah nods. “Yeah.” She takes a breath. “The kinda good news is that she’ll be totally fine no matter what obstacles she may run into. She’s tough. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Hotchner.”

She snorts. “Hell, I watched you bounce back from crazy life-threatening shit with a quip and a grin.” 

You raise your eyebrows and shrug. “I do what I can.” 

+++

Caroline curls into her father’s side, her double bed big enough to manage the both of them. It feels a lot like when she was little - she’d have nightmares or couldn’t fall asleep and Aaron would come and sit with her until her breath was even and slow.

“Dad?”

“Mhmm?”

“What’s Soph gonna do about college?” Caroline’s voice is small, nearly smothered in Aaron’s shirt. “She already has scouting offers and stuff.” 

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “I’m not sure. We’ll all have to figure it out together, won’t we?”

+++

Aaron steps into the room, closing the sliding glass door behind him. Alice, just as you predicted, snoozes next to Sophia, her head pillowed on her arms. Sophia’s upper body almost arcs around her and she managed to snag one of Alice’s hands in her adjustment. 

Those two…

Maybe he won’t escape the inevitable after all. 

Morgan-Hotchner? Hotchner-Morgan? 

He really only ever prepared to lose his name with Caroline. Soph always seemed far too… herself to take on a new one. 

We’ll see.

You’re asleep in the pull-out chair, your brow drawn and arms crossed over your chest. He approaches you as quietly as he can, putting his go bag down and sitting beside you. 

Much to his chagrin, you startle awake. 

“Sorry,” he says in a whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

You shake your head. “You didn’t.” Talking through your yawn, you add, “Just had a weird dream is all.” 

Aaron pulls you close and you relent, tucking into his side with a hand pressed to his chest. 

“Did Savannah come by?” He asks. 

You nod. 

“What did she say?” 

You sniff a little, more from the antiseptic smell than any emotional response - that will come later. “Soph won’t be able to play again unless fuckin’ divine intervention or some shit comes along and fixes her knee from scratch, but she’ll be able to move around just fine with a cane or brace or something after a while.” 

Aaron can only imagine it now - fits and righteous anger about getting around the house, watching games from the bench - the list could go on forever. “She’ll hate that.” 

You hum in agreement. “Just another parenting challenge. Already have the rest of the gamut covered neurodevelopmentally, so we were bound to get a physical challenge at some point.” 

“Never more than we can handle.” 

Shaking your head, you note, “This one just might do us in.” 

+++

“I swear to God, if I see you in the office at all this week I’m gonna smash your kneecaps in.” Emily pauses. “Sorry. Too soon?” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” You laugh a little and Soph sits up, her brow asking a question. 

You answer, pulling the phone away from your mouth. “Your Aunt Emily told me she’d smash my kneecaps if she saw me at the federal building this week.” 

Soph snorts. “Nice. We could match.” 

You reach over and tweak her nose. “We already match.” 

“Hey.” Emily grabs your attention again and you put your cell back to your ear. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to be here. Stay home for Soph right now and I’ll sign off on it and turn everything in for you.” 

You roll your eyes. “I can’t believe you turned into Rossi, Miss I’m Past Retirement Age But Twisted the Bureaus Arm to Let Me Work Myself to Death.”

She laughs and hangs up, leaving you and Sophia alone again in the hospital room. She tucks back into her Jello, taking bites that are way too big. 

“How are you feeling, bug?” You brush her cheekbone with your thumb and she shrugs. 

“Can you hand me my headband?” 

You reach over and dig around in her back until you find the wide swatch of colorful fabric. She takes it from you and shoves it over her head, pushing her hair back with practiced ease. 

She’s just like her dad. 

What? Loyal? 

Yeah. But also chronically avoidant. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

She huffs, playing with her fingers. “I’m fine. I think.” Her breath is shaky. “I can’t really tell with all the meds I’m on, but it feels… really bad.” 

When she looks over at you again, her eyes are glassy, tearful. “I know I can’t play again, maybe not even run.” 

You reach out for her hand, but don’t say anything. 

“Momma…” She pauses, looking down at her blanket. “Momma, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I feel like I only know how to play soccer. I don’t know how - I don’t know if I want to do anything else. I’ve never thought about it before.” 

You run your thumb over her knuckles. “Soph, you can do so much. You have a great strategic mind - you think in these big, creative webs. It’s such an asset.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not profiling you, baby,” you tell her with a smile. “I just know that about you because you’re my daughter.”

Her mouth twists. “Right.” She looks down when her phone buzzes. 

“Who is it?” 

The corners of her lips tip up. “It’s Alice. She’s asking me if I want anything from the drive thru.”

You mirror her little smile. “That’s nice of her.” 

“Yeah.”

+++

“Alright so you have twenty nuggets, large fries,” Alice digs around in the bag, taking things out as she speaks. “And… a vanilla milkshake.” 

“God, I love you.” Sophia wraps her hand around Alice's head and pulls her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

Alice laughs, deep from her chest. “Shit, Soph, if all I have to do to secure your love is get you crap chicken, sign me up.” 

“You could get damn close.” 

Aaron watches the girls sit beside each other in the bed, taking turns dipping their nuggets in the sauce. They’ve always been this way, exchanging barbs and affection in equal measure. Symbiotic in the extreme, one is never far from the other. 

You’re home, getting everyone else in bed and settled for the evening. Isabella drove in a night early - Jack’s headed back to D.C. apartment for a series of days-long meetings at the Pentagon regarding his latest project. 

Aaron’s excited to see her. It’s been a helluva thing to see his son married, even more surreal to know and love his son’s wife like his own daughters. 

His phone rings. 

Speak of the devil. 

“Hey, Bella.” 

Sophia looks over at the mention of her sister-in-law, and Alice looks beside herself with delight. As well as being a hit among the parents, Bella’s a winner with the kids, too. 

Some days, Caroline likes her more than she likes Jack. 

“Hey, Pops. Want to tag out?” 

“Sure. I’ll switch with you. How long do you want to be here?” 

He can almost hear her shrug. “Eh. I’ll spend the night. My column isn’t due until the end of the week and I’ve got it covered. Don’t need to work, don’t really need to sleep. Win-win.”

“If you say so.” 

“I do. I’ll be there in twenty.” 

She hangs up before Aaron can respond, so he just pockets his phone and takes the loss. Sophia, after taking a sip of her milkshake, asks. “Is Bella here all night?” 

“Yeah, bug. She’ll be here.” 

Soph and Alice share a look. 

+++

“Well, Bella has more patience than I do,” Aaron says, dropping his go bag at the bedroom door. “She’s stuck with H&M for the rest of the night at the hospital.” 

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m glad the girls have company, and fun company, at that.” 

“Fair enough.” 

The two of you quiet for a moment, and you tuck further under his arm, placing your hand over his heart. 

“Aaron?” 

His hand traces up and down your back, slow and steady. “Yeah?” 

“What can we do for her? She sounded so… defeated today.” 

And it’s true. You’ve never seen Soph like that, even at her lowest. If you were honest, it scared you a little. 

“We can be her parents. That’s all. And she’ll figure something out. If she needs to take a gap year, she’ll manage. She and Alice can search for programs together.” He sighs before he continues, leaning back to look at you. 

“All we can do is ask her what she needs and support her as best we can.” 

+++

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