Do you have a favorite episode of Glee? Do you want to be on the Lima Heights Adjacent podcast?
This summer LHA will be jumping in our very own wayback machine to relive our favorite moments of Glee, and we want you to pick the episodes. Not only that, we’d like to have you on the podcast. Here’s how it works:
On May 15 we’ll post a ballot for you to vote for your favorite episodes. The top ten episodes will be recapped and reviewed. The guests will be chosen from the pool of fans who voted for that episode. No haters allowed.
So whether your favorite number was “Don’t Stop Believing,” “Teenage Dream,” or even “Run, Joey, Run,” your vote counts!
Love “Preggers”? “The Break Up”? “Never Been Kissed”? “The New Rachel”? VOTE VOTE VOTE! And maybe you’ll hear your fave discussed on the countdown.
Remember, voting opens May 15 and runs through June 1.
That’s how we do it in Lima Heights!
I went to this book store and their books were wrapped up in paper with small descriptions so no one would “judge a book by its cover”
Reaction fic to that last GIF:
A few weeks after Finn’s death, Blaine starts going over to the Hummel’s house more often. He goes when Burt’s at work and Sam’s out and he knows that Carole is home alone. He always pretends that he didn’t realize Sam wouldn’t be home because Carole would fuss if she knew Blaine was coming over just to check on her.
He never tells Kurt about it. He doesn’t do it to win any special brownie points. He does it because he can tell that Carole isn’t handling Finn’s death as well as she’s letting on and he knows that she enjoys the distraction of having a teenager in the house to take care of again. Carole is the best mom Blaine’s ever met and it’s unfair that she had to lose her son when so many terrible mothers are out there who don’t even try.
She bakes him cookies and he tells her funny stories from Glee club. He knows how important Glee was to Finn, and in turn how happy hearing all their crazy anecdotes makes her. Then when she starts to get sad, Blaine puts on some U2 and makes Carole sing with him. She’s always embarrassed about it but she does it and it helps melt away some of her sadness, even if only for the length of the song.
He never tells anyone about his visits with Carole — he doesn’t do it for anyone else but her. Still, he’s pretty sure everybody knows about them anyway.
Glee Cast [4/14] | Harry Shum Jr.
"When I was younger, I was very scared to talk to people. To the point where my parents took me to a therapist because they thought something was wrong with me."
All this spec and angst and spoilers and crap blocking up my brain. Keeping me from writing what I need to be writing.
And then I read Mimsy’s ficlet. And thought “what is the other side?” Riding her coattails. Unblocking the brain.
This started as something else and ended up as this. I don’t know.
Angst. Hope. Sobriety. Lies. 400 words.
He had always been able to see the signs. How could he have missed the obvious, literal sign that had been sitting there at the end of the street on the day the realtor first brought them here.
“Avoid dead end in cul-de-sac. Isn’t that funny.”
The lump on the other side of the bed ruffles, then snuffles, then snores.
The elbow hadn’t worked. The pillow over the ears was useless.
Grabbing the blanket from the foot of the bed, he shuffles down the hall of the chic mid-century ranch that had called to him so loudly six months before. He stops in the den and grabs the remote from the coffee table.
Television on. Remote dropped.
News? Movie? Who cares.
He stands wrapped in the blanket with his back to the television and stares out the windows at the lights of Los Angeles below.
“A place in the hills. A view of the valley. It’s a sitcom house. Life will be perfect here. Let’s buy it.”
Not the biggest lie you’ve told yourself but definitely the one with the biggest price tag.
“The house will make it better. I can decorate it. A hobby to make the sobriety easier.”
Or the charity work or the puppy or the garden.
Thank god I stopped myself before suggesting a child.
He turns and stares at the television.
Talk show. Listen to others do what you can’t.
Not fair. Not true. I’ve talked too much.
“No, this time is really it. We are moving in together. The matching his-and- his towels. The whole she-bang.”
I was more in love with the towels.
“He makes plenty for the both of us and I won’t miss those 6 a.m. set calls.”
I was fired for showing up drunk.
“L.A. holds so much more opportunity for me.”
I couldn’t find a job in New York with a map.
“I hate New York.”
I think New York hates me.
An image on the screen catches his eye and he grabs for the remote. Volume up.
“After this break, Broadway star turned television star, fashion icon and recent West Coast arrival, Kurt Hummel.”
Sudden weakness in his knees makes him drop to the couch.
“I’m happy for your success.”
They all judge me against you.
“I think we should split up. You are holding me back.”
You are going to leave me. I am holding you back.
“I don’t love you anymore.”
“I don’t love him anymore,” he says aloud as he flips the television off, lays back on the couch and stares at ceiling.
“I don’t love you anymore.”
Maybe that lie had the biggest price tag.
Tomorrow he will head to Elysian Park. Fresh air. Sunshine.
Avoid dead end in cul-de-sac.
He turns over and dreams of the smile he has missed for years.
And a companion piece to what I wrote! This is GORGEOUS.
This is why you don’t message from the tumblr app when you’re sick.
i did the best i could with google image searching
how about next time we post the links to the recipes and not some shitty buzzfeed knockoff
One day, you will all work for me. The only requirement is that I get a breakfast like this every day.
Still sick, still craving a decent American breakfast, still quietly sobbing.