#though now I usually go for Elliott because I enjoy writers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

glowingbadger · 2 years

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Me when

Me when I, when, uh

Elliott.

His dialogue can actually be a challenge sometimes, because frequently, he does that "eloquent writer" thing, but we also see him speak very casually at times, so.... eh? Guess we'll see how I do my on my first full Elliott outing lol

Also I just like wrote this in one sitting in a near fugue state so cue me a week from now going in to fix repeat words and type-os lmao awesome

Elliott (Stardew) x AFAB Reader

NSFW 18+ v

Elliott lets out a heavy sigh beside you on the bed and closes his notebook, a finger stuck between the pages to keep his place. You know that specific sound- it's the sigh of the ever-dreaded writer's block. Putting your own book aside, you shift closer to him and raise a hand to comb his hair behind his ear.

"How's it going, Hemingway?"

He gives a short laugh, then places his notes on the bedside table. Slumping back against the headboard, he takes a moment to enjoy your fingers in his hair, then says,

"It's... nothing to worry yourself about," he sighs once more, "Just a particular scene that I'm, uh, not quite sure how to approach."

"Oh? What kind of scene?"

You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, smiling idly.

"Well, it's..." he trails off. When you glance up at his face, there's a notable blush across his high cheekbones, "It's an... erotic scene, actually. But I've never written anything of the sort- well, not to any measure of standard, anyway."

Your smile curls, and you give a short hum. Surprised, but certainly not displeased, your mind is filling with deliciously lurid ideas. Perhaps your lover requires a bit of inspiration.

"Alright," you nod, your voice flippant and casual, "So, what kind of tone are you going for? What's the mood?"

His eyebrows rise the slightest bit, as though surprised that you'd indulge him. Then, he replies,

"I would say... not quite animalistic, but certainly frantic. Passionate. The lovers have just escaped a dangerous and harrowing event together, and the relief of survival draws them to one another. The two have... desired one another for some time, so this is like the breaking of a dam."

You nod. Thinking aloud, you say,

"So probably plenty of kissing, and if there's any foreplay, it's probably not gonna last long."

"Do you think so?" Elliott says with genuine interest. He's watching you steadily, his initial hesitation toward the subject rapidly diminishing.

"Well yeah," you lean against him, raising a hand to twirl the ends of a lock of his hair around your fingers, "Its their first time, so they're probably insanely excited to finally kiss one another. But they're also in that intense, post-survival headspace, so they probably can't wait to have one another."

"That does follow..."

"Think of it this way," you go on as you meet his gaze more directly, "How would you kiss me if you had just thought you might lose me?"

Elliott's eyes widen, his posture suddenly rigid.

"If I..."

"Hypothetically," you say with a reassuring smile, "Just to get you into the headspace."

The expression he wears makes your heart ache. He leans close and brings a hand to your cheek, cradling you as he murmurs,

"Darling, to even think of such a thing-"

The moment words fail him, his lips are on yours. Elliott rarely kisses you quite like this; stripped of his usual decorum, he tangles his long fingers in your hair and presses his lips to you like he couldn't possibly let you go. Heat rises at your cheeks and plunges through your center as his tongue runs firm along yours, as skillful as ever, but unrestrained. It's as he himself had said- frantic, passionate. With a single whimpered sigh, you pull him to you by the front of his shirt, his intensity spreading to you like a fire catching on your skin. By the time you both have to part to breathe, he's on all fours above you, though you can't recall for the life of you when you moved.

"See?" you say with a half-dazed smile as you pant softly beneath him, "You just... need a bit of inspiration."

"You have always inspired me, dearest," he says, brushing your hair from your face, "Will you continue to assist me?"

By the time you whisper, "Of course," his lips are already at your neck. Your head tilts back as he presses against you, kissing and biting tender skin, his tongue and teeth sending ripples of pleasure through you. Without realizing, you smile at the familiar scent of pomegranate in his hair, and you run adoring hands along his shoulders and down his arms. Elliott nips at the crook of your neck, and your gasp prompts him to moan against your skin, as though your pleasure were his own.

Still decorating your throat with heated love-bites, Elliott wraps an arm around you to pull you against him as his free hand tugs your clothes up over your chest. Unwilling to wait for you to undress fully, he kisses the soft swell of your breast while his hand cups the other.

"Mmh- Elliott!" you arc up to him from the bed, your body seeking his as the warmth of his mouth surrounds one of your stiffened nipples. He offers no response to your cry, transfixed by his need to feel you, to please you. His hands run down your sides, holding you close as his lips worship your breasts. Just once, you hear him groan your name, his voice low and needy and his breath hot on your skin. Elliott's hand wanders mindlessly as he continues to suck and kiss your dearly sensitive nipples, his touch savoring every inch of you as you squirm and shift beneath him.

"Tell me," his voice is a hoarse whisper, "tell me how it feels- describe it for me."

At first, you can only pant and sigh at the unbearably wonderful sensations. But, you had agreed to help him write- so you force your thoughts to align themselves, and, your voice high and breathless, you say,

"Its... dizzy. Warm. When you kiss me like that..." your fists flex tight around the sheets, "It's like... every nerve and pathway in my body is leading towards your lips."

"Nngh, darling," Elliott moans and runs both hands down your sides, "How am I meant to endure such bliss..."

For a moment, he fumbles with the button and zipper of your pants, but he makes short enough work of them and tugs them down your legs with your panties. Your clothes are discarded beside the bed without a thought, and with a direct and forceful passion you've rarely seen in him, Elliott parts your thighs beneath him and lowers his head.

"Oh-!! Fuh- Fuck, Elliott!" you gasp as his lips press around your clit and his tongue flicks against it, his movements firm and steady. You think of how he usually makes love- how he prefers to take his time with you, guide you slowly to your climax with gentle, loving touches and gradually increasing pressure. It couldn't be further from how he is now; now, it's as though he wants your climax desperately. Already, your thighs are trembling around him, but he pauses for just a moment.

"Tell me..." he repeats his earlier request, kissing your inner thigh. His brow is deeply furrowed, his hair tickling your skin and hands caressing you as he returns to his task. You arch from the bed once more as the tip of his tongue circles your swollen clit, the slick warmth wracking your entire body with pleasure- yet you manage to force out the words,

"God, Elliott, it's incredible-!" you whine softly, biting your lip before continuing, "It's... it's hot, my head is fuzzy- my... my legs feel weak- it's... a jolt through my body, every time you- your tongue... ohh!!"

He seals his lips around your throbbing clit and the surrounding sensitive flesh. He sucks and massages you, his tongue thrumming steadily against you and his nails digging along your thighs as he leans against you. Without a word, it seems as though he's demanding that you cum- or perhaps begging- and your trembling body is more than happy to comply. With a final cry of his name, you cling to the sheets, your legs tensing in around him as a rush of heat explodes at your core, and his dexterous tongue urges you through all the while.

Letting out a long-held breath, you slump onto the mattress, your thighs still shaking slightly from the aftershocks of your climax. Yet the fire in Elliott's eyes is evident even in your blissful haze. He prowls up over you, his hand brushing your cheek, and you mumble,

"I should... do something for-"

"Darling," he says, his scorching gaze silencing you in an instant, "I don't think I can wait a moment longer."

With wide eyes and flushed cheeks, you nod, and he quickly strips off his wrinkled dress shirt and works open the front of his pants. At a glance, you can tell he's in an agonizing state of arousal. His cock is long and rock-hard, swollen and twitching eagerly as he positions himself between your legs and presses to your entrance. Perhaps it's no surprise he can't bring himself to care about your shirt still bunched up over your breasts, nor his own remaining clothing.

Your lower lips are still soaked from your previous orgasm, and your slick easily coats the head of his cock as Elliott begins to push into you. Your eyes meet as he drives deeper into your clinging pussy. He's oddly beautiful in the throes of passion; his hair is tossed in every direction, cascading romantically down his shoulders, his chest rises and falls heavily, his lips are full and kissed to a lovely pink. You give a short whimper as he hits your deepest point- yet when you see him watching your expressions intently, you know what he wants before he thinks to ask.

"Full," you say softly, "I... I feel so full, Elliott. So... right. Like my body is stretching to fit perfectly around your cock. The- the pressure is incredible..!"

He whispers your name with absolute adoration. Then, his hips begin to move. His pace is firm and steady from the start, a far cry from how he typically eases you both into the sensation. Elliott draws close, one hand behind your knee urging your legs further apart while the other supports him on the bed. Your own unsteady hand comes to rest at his jawline, urging him close to kiss you once more, and with that, any remnant of restraint between the two of you evaporates. His hips buck against you, barely maintaining a consistent rhythm as the thick length of his cock thrusts and grinds into you. He's hitting some incredible spot- some impossibly sensitive place deep inside of you that has you gasping out for him with every sway of his hips.

"Right there!" you breathe out between kisses. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him to you, dragging your nails along his scalp. Uttering and deep groan, Elliott lowers his head onto the pillow beside yours and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. He kisses the marks he'd given you earlier. He stammers out something about how wonderful you feel, how he loves you, adores you, a long-remembered line of poetry that you half-hear between moans and strained sighs.

His member throbs hard, swelling thick against your clenching inner walls. You feel his body tense, his abdomen flexing tight, and you know he's close. At the realization, you suddenly bring your hands to cradle his face, and kiss him hard. Elliott groans- a deep, primal sound that's so unlike his usual gentle tone. Then, he holds inside of you, every inch of his cock buried in you as his release takes him and pushes you towards your own. For a few glowing moments, your lover kisses you against the mattress as his cum fills you, each pulse causing his cock to twitch in a way that stimulates your over-sensitive nerves. By the end, he's forced to part from your lips, gasping out your name as the final wave of his climax works through him.

Then at last, he slumps forward, barely holding himself up as he struggles to catch his breath. He pulls out from you, and you watch him with warm eyes, brushing a lock of his now wild and tangled hair behind an ear.

"That... wow," Elliott chuckles softly, "Well, I certainly do feel inspired."

"Glad to help," you say with a grin- though in truth, you still feel winded and shaky, yourself. He settles beside you on the bed once more, then takes your hand in his and draws it to his lips. The gentlemanly gesture makes it hard to believe this is the same man who just fucked you into the mattress with all of his strength.

Briefly, Elliott appears contemplative, and you decide not to interrupt his thoughts until he says at last,

"It was... different from usual, wasn't it? Fiercer, somehow. The state of heightened emotion, the novelty of hearing you describe what you felt... yes, I- I think I'm beginning to understand!"

His eyes light up, and you know this expression well. Something's sparked in his mind- a clear direction, the words already assembling themselves in his mind. Your smile broadens. You can't help it, seeing him fired up like this always fills your chest with fluttery warmth. Curling up at his side, you nuzzle against his chest and mutter,

"Well, if that's what it takes to fix writer's block, then consider me a willing assistant."

#elliott using pomegranate conditioner is my kink #elliott stardew valley #elliott sdv #stardew valley #not sfw #elliott x reader #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley smut

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ginger-and-mint · 3 years

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Happy birthday Myx! 🥳🎂 Have Several questions because I Want To Know Things. ^^; Illness & Injury 6 for everyone, Whump 2 & 3 for everyone, and Writer's 2, 13, 19, and 46 for you!

thank you Mel! ♡ and oh my gosh I’m so delighted by this abundance of questions!

6. What is their go-to remedy for an upset stomach?

Kara and Bramley both like some warmth on unhappy tummy. They’ll make themselves tea, more for the warmth than anything else, and sip it while taking it easy. Kara is likely to get herself a little warm pack too if she can.

Malia tends to go straight for medicine or a tonic. She doesn’t like to be slowed down by her body, and so will opt for whatever she thinks will be most effective in the shortest amount of time.

Si, being a song-mage, was once surrounded by fellow song-mage friends they could ask to cast a stomach-settling healing spell on them. With that option off the table, they'll also look for a fast-acting medicine or tonic.

Grayson and Elliott both try to ignore an upset stomach for a little while in the hopes that it’ll settle. When that fails, Grayson will go get himself a tonic and complain to his friends until it kicks in, while Elliott will either try sitting quietly and sipping on water or tea, or if he can get away, just sleeping it off.

Ryder is knowledgeable enough to take a different approach depending on how upset his stomach is. For something minor, he’ll make himself a digestion-easing tea, like mint or chamomile. If he knows that won’t be effective, he’ll go straight to a tonic. When it’s something he’s eaten that’s not agreeing with him, sometimes he’ll just go make himself throw up to get it out of his system.

2. What is their pain tolerance? Do they close their eyes and block it out, or go into a full blown panic?

Grayson really hates tolerating pain, but if he has to, he can take a lot. Most of the time, he will remove himself from painful situations as quickly as possible and complain bitterly about anything that hurts. But if the chips were down, he would turn out to be a lot tougher than anyone expected.

Bramley is a Sweet Baby and We Do Not Harm Him is not really used to enduring pain and has a low tolerance for it. He would close his eyes and block it out rather than panicking, but not really be able to do anything except sit there and block pain until he was Helped. c’:

Kara is Pure Sunshine and We Do Not Harm Her Either has a pretty high tolerance for acute pain and doesn’t panic about injuries, but she has been known to get faint from them. She’s also easily worn down by chronic discomfort, like being too hot or cold or just having a constant dull ache of some kind.

Malia is the opposite. She can put up with low-key pain or discomfort for a long time, but an acute injury would freak her out a lot more than she’d like to admit.

Ryder has a high pain tolerance on all fronts, honestly. As soon as he feels pain, he looks for a solution to ease it, and if there are none to be had, he’ll grit his teeth and block it out.

Meanwhile, poor dear Si is not great with pain. Song-mages are primarily healers, and so Si is really used to having even little hurts soothed quickly and easily. They don’t panic when in pain, but they do get extremely miserable.

Elliott has a very high pain tolerance when the pain feels within his control; he can power through even the worst headaches or stomachaches, for example. But as soon as the pain feels out of his control (i.e. he gets injured), he panics.

3. How long do they typically take to recover from illness or injury compared to average?

Ryder and Kara, by virtue of Robustness and Being Sensible People who largely take care of themselves when under the weather, are quick to recover.

Grayson and Malia both heal quickly from injuries, but take a little longer with illnesses. With Grayson, it’s more a matter of him not being back to himself until his symptoms are completely gone (he is very much a Man Flu type of guy.) Meanwhile Malia will treat an injury with appropriate care, but is likely to push herself back to full capacity before she’s fully better from an illness, leading to a slower recovery.

As big and strong as Bramley is, he’s actually a little more delicate immune system-wise. He tends to be a slow recoverer, even though he’s good about looking after himself when sick or hurt.

Elliott and Si also tend to have slow and uneven recoveries, but in their cases, it’s due to hooliganery. Si takes good care of themself during the uncomfortable phase of their illness or injury, but as soon as they feel 90% better, they’re eager to leap back into life with their usual zeal. That’s not always a great idea and can lead to them prolonging whatever is afflicting them. Elliott, on the other hand, is just a stubborn idiot who doesn’t take care of himself. He’s particularly bad about this with injuries, often aggravating them and even making them worse because he won’t give them the rest they need to heal.

2. Are you a pantser or plotter?

Usually I lean more towards plotting, although I do leave a lot of room for the new directions and ideas I know I’ll discover during the process of writing itself. But Ginger and Mint is the big exception -- I started writing it with zero plan whatsoever. I do have an outline for it now, but I was probably eight or nine chapters in before I made it.

While the final product is definitely not as a polished as it would’ve been if I’d planned it from the start, it was honestly super refreshing to not worry and just write. I’ve been trying to bring a little of that experience over into my more serious writing -- it’s so easy to get caught up in plotting and forget to leave room for writing itself to be a generative process.

13. Describe your writing process from idea to polished

Have idea. Whee!

“Mark out” the things I want to happen in the story or chapter:

I usually do this by writing out short snippets of prose or dialogue related to the ideas I’ve had about each moment. For example, let’s say I know I want a moment where Grayson talks to Ryder. I’d type up a couple lines of dialogue and/or maybe a line about Grayson encountering Ryder and noting what he’s doing or how he’s looking -- whatever’s relevant to the scene. Basically, whatever ideas I have about that scene will be represented in writing in the “mark.”

I have all these marks ordered in the document in the same way the scenes will eventually be chronologically ordered. For me, having visual space is important for my ability to think, so I hit the enter key enough times between the marks that I can see only blank space when I want to work with a certain moment.

Build out each mark until I have a full scene. I do try to go roughly start to finish, but definitely jump back and forth depending on what I’m feeling most inspired by or what my brain seems to be spitting up ideas about. I also skip ahead whenever I feel stuck, which is both a blessing and a curse.

Go back and string the scenes together. Add transitions, fill in any missing pieces, etc.

Re-read the full thing from start to finish and make final edits. Yay, done!

19. How do you keep yourself motivated?

goooood question fam

I struggle with this as much as the next person (see: 2.5 year G&M hiatus). I haven’t discovered a foolproof method of motivation yet (pls advise if you have), but I do tend to feel inspired whenever something reminds me why I want to write this story. That could be thinking about a scene I’m really excited to share, re-reading a scene that reminds me why I enjoy portraying a certain character or environment -- anything along those lines.

46. Do you reread your own stories?

Yes, the ones that I like! Some things I’m not particularly proud of and don’t go back to very often, but re-reading pieces of writing I do like helps me feel motivated, inspired, and confident.

#thank you so much these were so FUN #asks #gnm asks #lessthanconventional #nausea #just the briefest mention

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astraeal · 3 years

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Commission for @thedashasaproblem! Hope you enjoy; read it on AO3 here.

Farmer Marie, original character, belongs to @thedashasaproblem. Stardew Valley, and all characters and settings therein, belongs to concernedape.

“Okay! We have quite a few things we need to get done today. Marnie called – you know how I asked her to let us know if she had any more available chicks? Yes? – and said there were some new ones we could pick up, which is perfect and just in time because Robin wrapped up the coop yesterday! And that means we need fresh hay in the coop, and if we need to restock the silo then we’ll mow too. Bessie needs to be milked and we’ll check if Sweetpea has any this morning or if she’s still nursing – ugh, little Delilah is going to be so stunning when she grows up, I can feel it. Oh, and good morning babe!”

Elliott blinks from where he’d stumbled into the kitchen, his hair thrown into a messy bun and loose auburn strands hanging around his face. He is in no way prepared for Marie’s chipper enthusiasm, but that’s what made him love her, after all. And, this entire situation is something he brought upon himself.

Head full of fantastical pastoral fantasies, he’d asked Marie to keep him appraised of what it takes to run Shady Land Farm. He was good with books, which was helpful – while Marie was running about the Valley in search of delicious fruits and rare stones, Elliott appointed himself the financier of Marie’s assets.

It had been difficult; he’d consolidated sticky notes scattered about the house with haphazard reminders about supplies owed to Robin, and items to sell to Pierre at the general store vs. what should be distributed to townsfolk directly, and birthday reminders, and favorite gifts, and occasional notes written in a script he couldn’t parse but appearing on a fantastical dark blue page that made his writer’s intuition spark. (That, and his fingers burned a little whenever he held such a note, as if it knew that he was not the intended recipient, but he never let Marie know that.)

After his book tour had completed, he had taken the better part of their first fall together to consolidate these notes and square the books. It had been helpful when Marie decided to go forward with the basement upgrade, and suddenly Shady Land’s wines and cheeses were worth quite a lot more. They’d only recently begun talking about incorporating more animals into the farm, hence the phone call to Marnie. With the addition of more animals, and Marie’s additional time spent working on repairing the old Community Center, Elliott wanted to assist more. It was only fair, after all; he still got most of his writing done at night, and there was no reason he couldn’t spend more of his mornings helping around the farm.

Marie had been ecstatic, of course, and he’d glowed with the anticipated appreciation for his efforts. So far, it hadn’t been that difficult. Sprinklers handled most of the watering, and with Marie’s clear eye for design, he wasn’t getting lost in the fields as he had feared he would.

But he still wasn’t a morning person, and his brain isn’t entirely on all the way, especially when his wife has inundated him with information and her beautiful visage so early in the morning.

Marie looks up at him, wide blue eyes and a warm smile on her face, blonde hair tucked away in two braids that usually resided beneath her sunhat. The hat now rests on the worn kitchen table, two steaming mugs of coffee and cozy breakfast platters set on the table. Still processing his wife’s words, Elliott makes his way to the second breakfast platter and pours some milk into his coffee, knowing he’ll need it to make it through the day.

“Good morning, my dear,” he murmurs as he finishes those first three blessed gulps of caffeinated beverage. “Would you like me to fetch the chicks? Or shall I stay on the homestead and you venture to the forest?”

Marie takes a bite of her eggs, done up with some goat cheese – “I bought it from Pierre but when we get some we’ll make our own, and it’ll be probably fresher than this stuff!” – potatoes, and sausage in her own little scramble. Elliott’s breakfast is far more tame, scrambled eggs and farm fresh cheese, with toast on the side.

“If you want to take Miss Daisy to Marnie’s, that would be great! She could use an excursion, and she loves the woods.” Marie sets her hand – soft, thanks to the gloves she uses, but still strong and capable – over Elliott’s wrist. “If you don’t mind, that is. I know coming back with newborn chicks might be a little…difficult.”

He warms at her touch. “I’m sure Marnie has a basket or some such thing I could use, don’t fret darling. She’d never let anything happen to the animals in her care.”

Marie smiles at him, and pecks his cheek. “Alright, babe, I’ll head down to the barn –”

“Oh, I can do that!” He blushes a little after his outburst, but still gives his wife a smile. “Let me handle the animals today, my dear. The first fruits of spring will be in the orchard, and you’ve got a better sense for flora than I.”

They both remember the catastrophic effort in Elliott’s old cottage when he watered his rose with sea water and was confused as to why it was dying. That had been one of the many points Elliott began to consider Marie as more than a friend.

She gives him a look clearly conveying that she’s thinking of the same moment he is. “Well, alright. Apricots and cherries, what a combination. Oh! And the wine! I’ll be right back!” She darts away, down the basement stairs, presumably to see if any wine has finished maturing yet. Some things she pulls out early, just for a little extra cash – Gus is always appreciative of a finer quality of any type of ingredient, especially alcohol.

Elliott knows it will take her a little while to check each barrel, so he quickly finishes his breakfast and coffee, and then stands, ready to take on the day.

First, to get himself prepared.

Then, to tend to Miss Daisy.

♢♢♢

Marie loses some time in the basement, checking each and every barrel, weighing the pros and cons of switching out some of the wine barrels for cheese barrels. With Bessie and Sweetpea both producing such quality milk, Shady Land has a near excess of cheese and she knows Gus would pay a fair amount to have some for his pizzas and salads.

Then again, better quality cheese keeps her going in the mines and other excursions, so there might be some incentive to keep some around? She’d probably ask Elliott for his thoughts, but by the time she surfaces from the basement and sees the clock perched over the coffee maker in the kitchen, she realizes it’s already 2:49pm.

She’d left her husband alone for hours. Elliott isn’t incompetent, but there’s still etiquette for handling new animals, especially babies, and all of Grandpa’s farming books are written in family shorthand, something she’d been meaning to teach Elliott but just kept forgetting.

Alarmed, Marie runs out to the front porch, expecting some sort of catastrophe. Bessie to be loose – not that she’d do much but perhaps wander up towards the house and eat a few tulips or something – or maybe Aspen to have fallen into the lake (again) but instead all’s quiet. She can hear the soft bells hanging from Bessie, Sweetpea, and little Delilah, but she can’t see them through the orchard.

She doesn’t run, lest she startle anyone, but she heads towards the tree line as quickly as she can. As she approaches, she can hear her husband’s voice. She quiets her steps as she enters the dappled shade of the orchard, the apple and orange trees still dormant for the season, yet producing beautiful flowers regardless. A sweet spring wind guides some fallen petals towards her, beautifully framing the tender scene she sees before her.

Elliott sits on a stump, Miss Daisy, Bessie, and Sweetpea, grazing peacefully beside him. He and little Delilah, however, are looking down, enraptured with three small fuzzy brown and golden chirping fluffy chicks in the grass. The chicks are barely visible from her current distance, but as Elliott straightens up his long hair goes back into place, revealing a fourth little chick curled up in his hand, which he gives little pets to every once in a while.

“You’re not too different from the crab that once lived in my pocket,” the story crafter begins, murmuring to the little chick in his hand. The chick chirps in response, and Elliott chuckles. “I haven’t told you that story yet? Well, I absolutely should.”

Marie takes another small step forward, not wanting to encroach on the moment nor startle any of the beings involved. The more she watches the scene, the more she sees things she hadn’t before. Like how all the adult females stood firmly on the edge of the lake, prohibiting the chicks, Elliott, or Aspen from wandering too close to it. And a small – hopefully empty – milk pail sits next to the stump, as if her husband had finished a chore and then simply couldn’t be away from the chicks for much longer.

What gives her away is another small fluff ball in the grass, this one bigger than the chicks, a brilliant white that rockets out of the higher grass and directly into Marie’s arms.

“Aspen! Who’s a good boy?” she coos, on reflex. Miss Daisy looks nonplussed, as if she knew Marie was there the entire time, while Delilah startles a little and runs back to the safety of Sweetpea.

Elliott also startles, which startles the chicks, who all climb and jump up his pant legs and into his lap, chirping loudly until they can take cover in the safety of Elliott’s lap. “Darling! I didn’t hear you arrive!” He looks caught red handed, though with what, Marie’s not sure.

She walks over, Aspen tucked to her chest, and sees with no small amount of relief that the milk pail isn’t full of milk, but rather water. Now, she can also see a small basket, no doubt from Marnie, in which the chicks probably arrived.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disrupt…you just looked so cute, babe! Everyone treating you nicely?” Marie leans forward, letting Aspen back down to the ground, and gives an affectionate rub to Miss Daisy, who wandered over searching for some treats.

Elliott blushes, visible even with the mid-spring flush he seems to always have on him. “Yes, quite. Everyone has been remarkably kind to me. Miss Daisy had to guide us home herself! I was, ah, a little preoccupied with the newest young ones.”

The wind picks up a little, carrying more flower petals through the air. Elliott’s long auburn waves glint caramel in the sun, unfurling to the side, revealing the turquoise earring usually kept tucked away. Marie had mined that turquoise herself; the earring had been a wedding gift from Clint, repurposing a stone Marie had sold him a few weeks prior to their proposal. (She had briefly wondered if maybe Clint and Elliott had been in on it together, as the timing was so perfect, but maybe she was simply overthinking things.)

Elliott looks completely at home, sitting cross-legged on the stump, worn down by spring rains. With the chicks in his lap and the errant flower petals in his hair, the man looks ever more like a regal prince from all the books and movies Marie had seen growing up.

“They’ve taken a liking to you,” she observes, reaching a finger in to give gentle pets to the soft downy chicks. They accept them, curious and cautious in their new home, but feeling brave under Elliott’s protection. “Have you thought of any names?”

Her husband looks up, green eyes wide. “Names? Oh, darling, I thought that was all you.”

“Nonsense! You picked them up, you should at least be able to name them. These ladies will need fine names, if they’re to live here on Shady Land. And you’re a writer, names are what you do!”

The chicks chirp in agreement, looking up at Elliott.

“Well…I was thinking this one could be Carmelina,” he murmurs, touching the lightest brown one. “Caramel, for the color, but the full name also means “vineyard of Yoba” so I find that fitting for the main exports of Shady Land, don’t you?”

Marie blinks. “You…knew the meaning of the name on the spot?”

“Of course! Clara was almost named Carmelina in Camellia Station, but I thought that would be too close to the title of the book, so I changed it. Still kept the C though.” He gets that wistful look on his face, a little lost in thought, as he usually does when trying to come up with next big ideas for his writing career.

The farmer giggles, giving more pets to Miss Daisy, who finally nosed out the cookies in Marie’s pockets. She gives one to her steadfast companion, looking at her husband with a newfound appreciation.

She takes a seat on the stump beside Elliott, looking up at him as they discussed further names for the chicks. The sun dripped down through the orchard’s branches, spreading dappled shadows up the short grassy expanse. Eventually, the cows and Miss Daisy wander back to their respective barns and stables, and the chicks doze off in Elliott’s lap. Marie delicately takes a couple – the newly named Carmelina and Dahlia – and heads off to the newly constructed coop to set them inside.

The chicks barely move when they’re set down in their new hay lined beds, clearly Elliott’s handiwork while Marie was tending to the house. The two of them hold hands, walking through the fields of Shady Land.

“You know, we could wash up and head to town. Get a late lunch at the Saloon, then maybe walk down by the beach?” Marie suggests, watching her husband for his response. She likes to spend as much time with him as possible before she loses him to his nightly writing routine, and there’s something a little tender about meandering down by the places they had fallen in love.

Elliott beams, nearly glowing with happiness. “That sounds delightful, dear. I’ll be sure to put on my best shirt.”

It’s not necessary to dress up for a 4pm lunch at the Stardrop Saloon, but Elliott likes to go the extra mile, and Marie can appreciate the little efforts to glamorize being a farmer’s husband. She kisses his dirt smeared cheek, standing side by side on the porch, and marvels at how far she’s taken the farm since her grandfather had worked the land.

Maybe someday she’d tell her husband about the vision she’d received a couple weeks ago, with her grandfather and the ultimate judging of her efforts so far, and the new, strange, blue flame candles on her grandfather’s shrine in the northwest corner of the farm. Someday. But not today.

“I wonder if Gus will have crab cakes,” she teases, stepping into their home, to the sounds of fire crackling in the fireplace and her husband enthusiastically waxing poetic about his favorite dish in the entire Valley.

Truly, it’s home.

#commissions #stardew valley commission #stardew valley #sdv #thedashasaproblem #i think after typing it so many times i NOW can read your url correctly #but i think it will always partially be 'the dashas problem'#hope you enjoy!! 💖💖💖

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spaceorphan18 · 4 years

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Kurt Duets Ranked

Part 2 of my Kurt Performances series, we move onto duets -- which will probably the least exciting of conversations, because this isn’t going to be much different than my Klaine Duets rankings. I didn’t go check that, however, so we’ll see how I feel about them now that more time has passed.

Meanwhile, the thing about the duets section is that while there are a ton of great songs in this one, it feels limited. Glee didn’t like to stray from what it knew worked, and therefore, we get Kurt having only a handful of duet partners, and only two of them make up a majority of the songs. It’s unfortunate that we didn’t get more Kurt and Mercedes duets, but even more unfortunate that Kurt didn’t sing with a larger variety of people. I mean, could you imagine a season 4 Kurt/Santana duet? Or something season 1 or 2 with Kurt/Quinn? Lots of possibilities, little room for experimentation.

That said - I do enjoy a vast majority of these songs, and like the solos, most of them complement Kurt’s story nicely.

Kurt Duets Ranked:

27. Candles (Original Song, 2x16)

You guys can’t seriously be surprised by this, right? As with all of these numbers, I went back to listen to see if I’ve changed my mind. Nope. And here’s the funny part - I actually do like this song. But the arrangement, production, and context of this number is terrible. My theory is that Original Song had so many songs in it that they were rushed to get this one done. Coupled with the fact that that the arrangement was redone (by Darren? - idk, Darren’s usually better than this.) and probably rushed means that it was just sloppy by the time they got to production.

From a music point of view, the arrangement is not complementary to either of their voices, and both of them clash on harmonies and go out of tune multiple times throughout the song. On top of that, the emotion of the song is completely off. It’s a break up song -- purposely more tailored for the Finchel story line at the time -- but doesn’t mesh well with Klaine’s getting together story. It feels awkward and out of place, and one of those times where I think who ever picked this song made a bad choice.

I know there are those out there who like it -- and that’s great! Don’t let me slow you down. But it will remain a weak link in an otherwise solid discography.

26. Get Back (Tina in the Sky with Diamonds, 5x02)

While this is way, way better than Candles, I do think it’s a weaker number for Kurt, and Kurt/Rachel, seeing that you’ll see they have some fantastic numbers coming up on this list. Not a favorite Beatles song of mine in the first place, not helping is the fact that this song should have a grittier and harsher sound than either of these relatively more classically trained vocalists can give it.

There is some fun with the choreography (weird NYADA piano tuning thing aside - that’s not how you tune pianos...), and Kurt and Rachel’s voices mesh just fine, but the rest of songs on the list just offer a bit more.

25. Memory (Old Dogs, New Tricks, 5x19)

This one is... rough. And it makes me sad to say that about a song picked specifically by Chris Colfer. For Kurt’s part, it’s a perfectly adequate rendition of Memory, though I think it lacks any of the deeper emotion that Kurt normally brings to his solos. But marring it further is the addition of June Squibb (who doesn’t have the same caliber of voice) and the fact that the scene itself is a bit of forced sentimentality. I get what Chris was going for in the script, but we’ve barely met these people, and they’re not memorable enough for us to get a tug on the heartstrings that this song wants us to have. The scene just kinda falls flat. (I’m sorry Chris!)

24. Lucky Star (Old Dogs, New Tricks, 5x19)

I promise, I’m not picking on Chris, even if the two songs he specifically wrote for himself are down here at the bottom. At least this one has more entertainment value even if I think it’s not a great performance. Kurt flying around as Peter Pan is super cute, and the song choice works relatively well with the scene. Once again, though, June Squibb’s Maggie is not a vocalist (And that’s fine - she’s a super cute old person), as well as this is bogged down in that weird sentimentality Memory was going for. It’s not really good, but at least it’s entertaining.

23. Story of My Life (The Back Up Plan, 5x18)

On a list featuring the what works and doesn’t for Kurt’s performances, this one just... oy. First of all, technically, the boys sound fine. Their voices mesh just fine, as usual, though Blaine’s voice is better suited for these slightly melodramatic boy band numbers. It’s a fine song to listen to in the car. Watching the performance, though, is rough. It’s done that way intentionally, to fit the context of the story -- and while it’s supposed to be comedic, to me it comes off as awkward and cringeworthy. Kurt has some odd performance choices, but normally a good performer, and this makes him kind of a bumbling idiot for the sake of the story, to the point where I rarely ever watch this one. I get what they were going for, and enjoy the song as just a song, but am not really a fan of the actual performance.

22. It’s Too Late (Jagged Little Tapestry, 6x03)

This one I definitely have some mixed feelings about. The song is fine, albeit a little on the pop-y side, though that’s intentional for the theme of the episode. And it’s the first time one of these songs directly commentating on the story that’s actually going on with Kurt. On the one hand, the angst of the scene is played well, and these boys pining for each other works for this part of the story. On the other, the vocals are a tad on the generic side (though these boys always sound great each other), and I’m still not sure I understand what was going on with the fantasy element during the middle of the song. Still, it accomplish the feel the story needed, which is why it gets bumped up here.

21. I Am Changing (New Directions, 5x13)

We only get two Kurtcedes duets on this show, which is a damn travesty. But what makes it harder is this one is, well, a little one sided. Mercedes freakin’ brings the house down with her half of the song -- clearly Amber Riley deserves all the credit she got for doing Dream Girls. Kurt, on the other hand, sounds a little rough here. I’m not sure if it’s because Chris’s voice changed during the show, and it actually got deeper, or if it’s due to the weird production values of season 5, but Kurt’s solo verse is a bit harsh and unrefined, and not in a good way. Mercedes saves it and steals the show, and when the two come together they sound fantastic, but this one gets dropped a little further down because it’s just not a strong one for Kurt. Add to that the fact that they’re trying to make Rachel and Santana be friends again, and the song is unfortunately a weaker one.

20. I Believe In A Thing Called Love (Frenemies, 5x09)

Look, I love Elliott, and I love that Adam Lambert came onto the show. He and Chris had some great chemistry, which actually does show through this performance. It’s fun and crazy and a bit out of Kurt’s normal repertoire, but that’s okay, because Kurt lets loose a little, and it’s really fun to watch. No - Kurt can’t match Elliott when it comes to the heavier rock material -- this is much better suited for Lambert than it is for Colfer, and there are times when Kurt kind of gets overshadowed and out performed, but that’s fine. We get to see Kurt pole dance - I think that’s justification enough to have it where it is on the list.

19. White Christmas (Glee, Actually, 4x10)

Believe it or not, out of the three Christmas duets Kurt and Blaine have, this is my favorite to listen to. I love this song, and I love this arrangement. They sound gorgeous on it as it highlights the strengths of their voices when singing together. My biggest issue is, really, with the scene overall. Look - it’s not easy choreographing people who aren’t used to doing routines on ice skates, and I get that. But due to that fact, the performance ends up being a lot of shots of people who aren’t Kurt and Blaine, and that’s a shame. The other two Christmas duets are much more in sync than this one, and this one is really being held back by the technical difficulty. Still - I like the song, and the context that it’s in, which is why it’s as high as it is.

18. Let it Snow (Extraordinary Merry Christmas, 3x09)

While lower than it perhaps deserves, upon watching it again, I know I’m placing it higher on the list of Klaine duets. It’s an incredibly hard number to do with all the dance steps and vocal runs, and the two of them nail it while being in character as their characters and as the Christmas special characters. I’m kind of in awe at the technical ability of this one, and it’s a shame the writers didn’t always play to Kurt and Blaine’s (and Chris and Darren’s) strengths. It’s not a personal favorite of mine, nor does the song hold much weight with their story, but it’s an incredible embodiment of what makes Klaine - Klaine, and showcases how well they can work together when given really good material.

17. You Make Me Feel So Young (New, New York, 5x14)

This is one of those songs that I go back and forth on, and really could write a dissertation on it, because I think there are a lot of elements both internal and external going on, which makes the onscreen performance... weird. But I feel like that would get way too long for the likes of this already too long post. So, I’ll say this. Vocally, they sound fantastic together, which is why I think it deserves to be up there on the list. It’s also one of the few times that we get to see genuine domestic Klaine being themselves with each other, which is also very cool. My issues with the acting and directing of the scene are very nitpicky, and it all lines up with my growing consensus that one of the weaker elements of season 5 were the musical numbers, but if y’all want more, I’ll do another post on just this song specifically. For now, I’ll just say that I enjoy the good things about the song, even if some of it leaves an awkward taste in my mouth.

16. Animal (Sexy, 2x15)

Animal is one of the few truly comedic performances Kurt gets to do. Between the silly sexy faces, euphemistic foam, and overkill addition of plastic balls, it’s hard to take this one very seriously, but that is the point. Both boys sound great on it, and it’s a lot of fun to watch -- being cringy in a good way. I really don’t have any criticisms of it besides I just prefer the others on the list just a bit more. But we’re getting into that territory where I think all of these songs are solidly good, and on any given day, I could rearrange the whole list.

15. 4 Minutes (The Power of Madonna, 1x15)

The second, and original, of the Kurtcedes duets, this is the first time in the show that Kurt gets to turn his sexy on, and it’s really awesome that they give him the chance to shine in such a way. Despite the fact that Kurt is doing the occasional weird hand gesture and choreography in this one, he and Mercedes play off each other incredibly well, and it’s a shame they never let these two really get to do anything once the juggernaut of Hummelberry came along. No, the song isn’t the best for Kurt’s voice, but sometimes it’s the spectacle of what’s going on during the number rather than how it sounds.

14. Love is a Battlefield (Tested, 5x16)

Showing that not all Season 5′s numbers were, well, not up to par as everything else, we’ve got this Klaine duet, which might be one of my favorite pieces of choreography and showmanship on the show. I really don’t like the song, at all, which I know goes against the grain of a lot of you, but it’s a testament to how powerful this number is visually that I’ve ranked it so high. (It’s about anger sex guys, and more sexual than the scarcely few sexy time-ish scenes we actually got.) The boys sound great on it, and the layered acting in it is pitch perfect. I love this duet, even if I’m not a fan of the song.

13. Ding, Dong, The Witch is Dead (The Purple Piano Project, 3x01)

Well, there is a reason Hummelberry was what it became, and this showcases that to perfection. The song isn’t worth much story wise, but it does show just how wonderfully these two play against each other, as well as sounding great together. This song is playful and light and the perfect showcase for what real talents they both are. I have my issues with Hummelberry (really, I do) but I can’t deny that they’re standout performers together, and everything about this number comes together to show that off.

12. Perfect (I Kissed a Girl, 3x07)

Look, this list is subjective. Yes, there are a few that stand over the rest and a few that are really not that great, but most of Kurt’s duets, like his solos, are really all solid performances. And I just happen to really love this song. I’m not going to defend Blaine’s questionable rapping or the context this song is performed in the episode. But what I will say is that I love what the lyrics have to say about Klaine’s relationship at the time, and the fact that they both (but especially Kurt) sound so great here. Plus, I enjoy jamming out to this one in my car.

11. Daydream Believer (Dreams Come True, 6x13)

This just happens to be one of my favorite songs ever, and I’m so glad this got to be the last Klaine duet. I have no issues about how well they sound together. As cute as they are dancing with the kids, I do wish the context would have been totally different -- I wish that they were singing this to each other -- or their own child. But I still think it’s a pretty meaningful song, and I love it, so here we are.

10. Just Can’t Get Enough (I Do, 4x14)

I unabashedly love this song. Sure the song is rather repetitive and is going on during other people’s plot lines, but every time I hear this one, I just want to get up and dance along with it. The boys sound great on it, and they get to be rather flirty in the moments that the camera is actually on them. If only the had more screen time, I probably put this one higher near the top.

9. Somebody Loves You (Transitioning, 6x07)

A lot like Just Can’t Get Enough, this duet is flirty and adorable and I love everything about it. They sound great together and, as usual, play off each other well. On top of that, the song itself plays nicely into the Klaine story of the moment, which I appreciate. It’s not a perfect performance, but an incredibly enjoyable one, and that’s what matters.

8. American Boy (The Untitled Rachel Berry Project, 5x20)

Are either Kurt or Blaine suite for Rap and R&B? No, not really, but do I care? No. As you’ve probably noticed, I love these flirty duets, this is one of the best ones. Sure, they don’t really capture the style or tone of the original very well. But they’re having a lot of fun out there and being adorable while doing it. And Kurt simulates having sex. I mean, do I really need to say more? But really - I actually enjoy this song a lot, so there we go.

7. Popular (2009, 6x12)

This is easily the best performance of Kurt’s limited performances in season 6. Kurt and Rachel haven’t head a duet together since Season Five’s Get Back (interesting right?) but they’re able to turn right back on the magic that was going on in the earlier seasons. This song is near perfection -- the acting is solid, the performance is layered -- being both comedic and a commentary about the both of them, and they sound wonderful together. This is truly a treat for the end of the series, and I’m a little sad the rest of the season didn’t put as much effort into its musical numbers.

6. Come What May (Girls and Boys on Film, 4x15)

The thing about Come What May, for me, is that it’s deeply a romantic song - and shot (intentionally) in a very movie-like way. I love so much about this, from the staging, to the bit of flashbacks setting the tone at the beginning, to the misdirect and reveal that it’s really Kurt’s fantasy and not Blaine’s. Vocally, there are a few weaker spots towards the beginning, but that can be overlooked when visually and lyrically there is so much wonderful things going on here. I love when a performance can have layers to it -- and this one say so much about Kurt as a character and the head space that he’s in, while being deeply romantic without being vulgar, that it firmly takes a spot near the top of the list.

5. Got to Get You Into My Life (Love, Love, Love, 5x01)

The thing that’s so great about good Klaine duets is their push and pull of each other. This duet has a ton of that -- each of them playing against each other in such a flirty way. They sound great, they look great, the number has a ton of energy, and the bright tone is a nice change from all the somberness that came along with season 4. It’s a visual treat as well as a aural one, and nearly flawless in execution, which is why it’s ranked so high on the list.

4. Rockstar (New, New York, 5x14)

Is this really one of Kurt’s best duets? Technically, probably not. I don’t really care - I. Love. This. Song. Really, I listen to it all the time, and it’s just a song I never tire of. It’s really Adam Lambert’s show, and Kurt is kind of dancing around like the littler brother of the rockstar that is Elliot ‘Starchild’ Gilbert. And I do think Kurt and Elliot’s voices mesh rather well -- even if Kurt’s overshadowed a bit here. But that’s all fine - because this song makes me happy for no other reason that it does, and that’s a fine reason to be near the top of the list.

3. Baby, It’s Cold Outside (A Very Glee Christmas, 2x10)

I keep trying to think of reasons not to put this as the number one Klaine duets. I keep looking at the list thinking that something else about one of the other duets will stand out more, and I just can’t. This scene and this performance is damn near flawless. I’ve already talked about this scene at length, and I really don’t have anything new to add, but here’s the thing -- this song sounds wonderful, the game of cat and mouse they play with each other is one of the best scenes on the entire show, and I can’t say enough at how brilliant and layered and amazing this scene is. Hands down, best Klaine duet, and one of the best overall duets on the show.

2. Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy (Duets, 2x04)

The thing is, about this duet, is that it’s iconic. Just hands down iconic. Not only were they able to take an old school mash-up done by Babs and Judy and make it their own, but they gave it the same amount of power and emotion the original had as well. I don’t think it’s easy to sit on a stool and make any kind of song engaging but these two are able to do it. They sound flawless on a technically difficult song. There’s subtly and nuance in the performance. There’s balance and give and take. And contextually, it fits in nicely with where each of the characters are at. On top of that, it’s a really great arrangement of these two songs in the first place. I have nothing but good things to say about one of my favorite songs and favorite performances on the show. And while Hummelberry has so, so many issues as a friendship -- their ability to make amazing performances together was not one of them.

1. For Good (New York, 2x22)

I went back and forth on what the order of the top three would be -- they could easily be interchangeable they’re all so good. But here’s the thing about this one. I feel like this one just takes an extra step up in, well, everything -- the performance level, the context, the layers of emotion woven through this song, it just hangs itself up a little higher than the rest of them. Yes, Kurt and Rachel sound as good as they ever do -- playing off each other and meshing with each other brilliantly. But this song is a grand musical theater piece that they pull off masterfully.

But on top of that... The weight this song has is given is higher than pretty much any other song on this list. it’s a perfect fitting song that punctuates their paralleling journey throughout the season. This song is a final statement and thesis of everything that became before it, and because of that, I’m ranking it as the best of Kurt’s duets.

#finding kh #kurt hummel #non link no photos version #because tumblr is the worst and has a million restrictions

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martinsblackwood · 6 years

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Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you.

Inspired by my own prompt: “This place has the best Oreo cake and I have heard that if you propose to someone in here they’ll give you two free pieces so, please, pretend to be my boyfriend and let’s do a fake propose; it’s for a good cause!”

Warning: English is not my native language, and, honestly, I’m a bad writer who hasn’t finished writing a fanfiction for ages so don’t expect much. If you read this and end up thinking it’s the wrost fanfiction you have ever read, please, just pretend I never wrote it, okay? Ily. ❤

"Oh, yesterday at the café near here there was a marriage propose. I mean, who the hell propose to someone else in a café? The house offered them the Oreo cake that Simon never shut up about, though." Nick starts yet another conversation.

Simon is at Nick’s garage with his usually group of friends and all they’re doing is talking about random things.

"Really?" Says Simon, followed immediatly to an "Oh! What are you waiting for? Give your number to Cal Price, he has a crush on you since high school, I'm sure he wouldn't mind jumping being boyfriends and become your fiancé right away" from Abby.

Simon rolls his eyes while everyone start to laugh, everyone except Bram, who after Simon keeps watching changes his weird expression in a little smile, or at least this is what Simon thinks he is trying to do with his face.

"What about Bram?" Everyone turns their attention to Garrett, "he loves the Oreo cake, too, and I don't think he would mind getting a free piece."

"I don't l-" Garrett interrupts whatever Bram was trying to say by elbowing his side.

"I-uhm... O-okay." Simon freezes at that. Okay, he often jokes that he would anything for Oreos, and the joke is that he is actually not joking at all, but the cute and shy Bram Greenfeld willing to fake a marriage propose with him for a piece of the most delicious Oreo cake seems strange even to him.

"Are you sure?" He asks. "Yes", Bram replies. And, well, for how ridiculous faking a propose may sound, Simon isn't going to take a step back.

Because what's better than a piece of Oreo cake? A free piece of Oreo cake, of course.

[The Next Day ☀]

"Shit, we didn't think about the ring." Simon realizes while he and Bram where walking towards the Cakes & Ann café shop.

"Oh, uhm... since you're proposing to m-me in a café, I think it makes sense if it's something that y-you really hadn't planned." Bram says, and Simon's sight may not be the best, I mean, he wears eyeglasses for a reason, but he swears that Bram's cheeks are tintend a bit of red now.

"Yeah, you're right", he replies. They walk for a few minutes more, and when they reach their destination, they both stops a few steps from the entrance.

"Are you ready?" Simon asks, looking at Bram. "Y-yes" Bram replies, and he gives him a small and nervous smile. There's something mischevious in his eyes, too, and Simon isn't sure if he ever saw that look on him before.

"Let's do it", Simon says and then proceeds to open the door for both of them.

Bram orders a cappuccino with a bit of chocolate powder on top, while Simon orders, of course, their Oreo milkshake.

They stay at the table for a bit sipping their drinks. Simon is a bit nervous, he doesn’t knows if he can do it, sure, he was a drama kid in high school, but he usually had a few lines, or none at all, and he never had to propose to the freaking adorable Bram Greenfeld.

He catches Bram's gaze and takes a deep breath. He suddenly get up from his seat, and goes to Bram's side. Bram turns his body a little towards Simon, and his mouth is a bit open. He actually looks surprised.

Simon kneels and takes Bram's hand with both of his hands. He looks at their hands for a bit, his heart start to beating faster, and he suddenly thinks that he wouldn't mind holding Bram's hand for hours.

He can feel Bram looking at him, he can feel everyone in this shop looking at him.

He raises his gaze to look at Bram and takes another deep breath.

"Bram, I know that this is so suddenly. I didn't really meant to do it that soon, but I have been thinking a lot about us lately. When I say that you're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for, I mean it. And when I joke about us growing old together, I'm not really joking. I don't have a freaking clue of how you're going to react and if you want this at all. But I really do, and I want to try: Do you want to marry me?"

Simon can hear a gasp of surprise escaping someone's lips somewhere in the shop.

Bram’s mouth is hanging more open now, and Simon swears that he can see that some tears have formed in his eyes.

Apparently the cute Bram Greenfeld can also act, and he can act very good because nothing about his reaction screams 'fake' to Simon. Is there something that this boy can't freaking do?

He feels Bram's squeezing gently some of his fingers. Then, he shakes his head a bit and smiles. This time, though, his expression isn't very convincing. There is something off about the smile that can usually light an entire room, this time, Simon thinks, he can't find any light on it.

"Y-yes. O-of course." Bram replies, he gives Simon a little smile, and Simon smiles back at him.

Suddenly, the few people in the café start to cheering at the fake engaged couple, and Simon's smile is a bit wider now, and he is starting to feel overwhelmed and without thinking twice, he hugs Bram.

He can feel Bram's body stiffen and just when he is starting to panicking about it, Bram hugs him back, starting to relax.

They hold each others for a few moments, and Simon wishes that he and Bram where closer because hugging him may be one of the best things he has ever done.

When they're pulling back from the hug, someone screams to 'kiss' at them, and Bram and Simon both freezes at that. Simon knows that he should say no, but Bram's lips are a few centimeters away from his, and he is all flushed and even more beautiful up close, Simon is starting to feel overwhelmed once again, and without really thinking about it he whisper to Bram: "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Bram whisper back, and so Simon does it. He catch Bram's lips with his own, and with his hand he takes hold of Bram's curly hair to tilt his head a little for a better angle, Bram is cupping his face, and now they are actually kissing.

It's slow and all Simon can see, feel and think about is Bram, Bram, Bram. They continue to kiss until they have to gasp for air, and if hugging Bram was one of the best thing he has ever done, kissing him was the best thing he has ever done.

In the end, they get their free pieces of Oreo cake.

Simon isn't really happy about it, though. Bram has been ignoring him since the kiss, he keeps looking at everything and everyone but him, and Simon feels like he has ruined whatever relationship they had before. He shouldn't have agreed to that freaking ridiculous plan, and even if he got to kiss Bram, he is probaby going to ignore him from now and on.

Simon mentally slaps himself all the time while he eats his piece of Oreo cake.

When they leave the shop, they decide to do it while holding each others hands.

Just after they’re out of sight, Bram quickly lets go of his hand as if it were somehow burning him. Simon's heart breaks a little at that.

"Wow, was I such a bad kisser?" He tries to joke, really, but his voice comes off wounded and Simon cringes a bit at that. He looks at Bram and stiffen.

Bram has the weird expression that he had yesterday, but this time he isn't that good at masking it, this time Simon can clearly see that he is hurt, and he looks lost, too.

Simon wishes that he could make it go away, that he could hold him and kiss him over and over again, but Bram isn't interested in him like that and now his heart is breaking a little more.

"Sorry, I was just jok-" "I liked kissing you." Simon freezers and Bram does, too.

He watches Bram's eyes growing bigger and his mouth is hanging a bit open like he is only now realizing what he has just said.

Bram's expression changes, he takes a deep breath and then he continues: "I-I wanted to try it for quite some time, actually."

Simon's heart start to beating faster, and the butterflies in his stomach are going crazy. Bram is trying to say sorry, but Simon can't really listen to him. His heartbeat is too loud in his ears, and Simon is trying to say something, too, but he seems to have lost the ability to speak so he does the only thing that he is capable to do now: He goes quickly to Bram, cups his face and then smash his lips with his own.

The kiss is passionate this time, and now Bram's taste is mixed with the Oreo cake, his hands are around Simon's waist, and he is pulling him closer, everything is just so perfect this time and Simon wishes that he could kiss Bram for eternity without stopping.

While kissing Bram for the second time, Simon comes to the conclusion that he kisses just like Elliott Smith sings.

The next time at Nick's, Simon and Bram decide to arrive together and they're holding hands when Abby opens the front door for them.

"Ooh." She says surprised, watching their hands for just a moment. Then, she gives them a big smile, and quickly turns to Leah. "Hey, Leah, I think they could take the title of being the cutest couple in town away from us.”

"Hey!" Nick suddenly interrupts. "There's no question here; me and Garrett are obviously the cutest couple!" Everyone laughs at that.

Note: Nick/Garrett may seems a joke, but they’re actually a thing. No straights were allowed in this fanfic.

I hope you somehow enjoyed reading this mess. ❤

#svthsa #spierfeld #things i wrote #i'm so nervous about this asdfghjkl #i have read and fixed this fanfic so many times #that if i do it one more time i'm going to puke

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klaineanummel · 6 years

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Story of My Life 1/24?

Kurt reflects on the past twelve years of his life, coming to realize that one man in particular has affected him far more than he ever thought he would.

Welcome to my @klaineadvent Multi Chapter Adventure! This is a fic that I’ve been wanting to write for a long time, so I’m really hoping that I can do justice to the idea of it that I have in my mind. This part is the prologue, and won’t be concluded until the final chapter, as the rest of the story will be told in pseudo-flashback form. I hope you enjoy, and I’ll see you all tomorrow!

Read on AO3

Attachment

May 8th, 2024

Rachel and Cooper’s wedding is absolutely lovely. Not that Kurt had any doubt that it would be, but it’s always nice to see it play out.

They’re currently swaying on the dance floor together, Rachel barely able to wrap her arms around Cooper’s neck. Close to them, Sam is dancing with his three-year-old daughter, the little girl on his feet, continuously trying to spin them around so that Mercedes can see them better from her chair near the dance floor. Mercedes can’t seem to stop smiling while watching them, her hand rubbing gently over her very-pregnant belly. Tina, only three months pregnant, is happily dancing with her wife, Quinn, rubbing their noses together in a far-too-adorable display.

Kurt, meanwhile, is sitting alone at the bar, watching his friends and their spouses have the time of their lives.

He sips his rum and coke, thinking about how he shouldn’t be so bitter. He loves his friends, he really does, and he feels shitty for feeling so frustrated watching them have a good time.

It’s just, well, Kurt thought he would have that by now. True love. He thought that by the time Cooper and Rachel finally got their act together, that he’d be long married, maybe even with a kid, like Sam and Mercedes. He thought that he’d be slow dancing with his husband at Rachel and Cooper’s wedding.

He shouldn’t complain. He has a fantastic job as a senior writer at Vogue, meaning he manages to live comfortably in a one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan, something not a lot of his friends can boast of. He has a close group of friends that he would die for, and that he knows would die for him. His father and step-mother call him three times a week, and are currently planning on moving into a retirement center in New York to be closer to him in their final years. Really, he has a good life.

Still, he misses being in love. He misses having somebody to hold him when he wakes up. He misses kissing someone to say hello, and again to say goodbye. He misses having sex on a regular basis. He misses the feeling of seeing something he just knows his boyfriend will love, and of watching happily as he is proven right.

He just… he misses being in love. It’s the only thing missing from his life, and on days like today, where everybody is celebrating love and how amazing it is, he can’t help but feel that a little bit more than usual.

“Ugh,” a voice says to his side, and he turns to see Blaine hopping onto the bar stool next to him, eyes on the dance floor. “Can you believe how happy everybody is out there? Like, jeez, I get it’s a wedding, but stop rubbing it in us pathetic singles’ faces, right?”

Kurt sighs at the sight of him, heart speeding up a little in his chest.

Pathetic is right. Being with Blaine just makes him feel even worse than before. How sad is it that the only man Kurt can seem to form any romantic attachment to is his best friend’s younger brother?

His feelings for Blaine kind of hit him out of nowhere. He’d spent his entire life hoping that Blaine would get over him, and then six months ago, when Blaine drunkenly called him to inform him that he was so, so, over him, he suddenly felt empty. He felt disappointed. He didn’t want Blaine to be over him.

At first, he thought it was just some form of narcissism manifesting itself, but the next time he saw Blaine, he couldn’t deny it. Something had changed for him. He wasn’t just looking at Blaine, Cooper’s younger brother who had a crush on him. He was look at Blaine, an incredibly attractive twenty-four-year-old, who couldn’t stop making his stomach do flips.

Of course, it would figure that exactly when Blaine got over Kurt, Kurt fell in love with Blaine. Fate sure is a bitch.

The worst thing is, he’s pretty sure that the only reason he’s developed these feelings for Blaine is because Blaine is the only single gay man that he knows and can stand to be around.

Kurt shakes his head, taking another sip of his drink. “I’m trying to be happy for them, but my bitterness is winning out,” he admits.

Blaine chuckles. “I let my bitterness win when Kitty caught the bouquet,” he says, shaking his head. “She’s already engaged, she shouldn’t have even participated!”

“Sheesh, she’s engaged, too?” Kurt groans. “Why is everybody I know either married, or getting married, or having babies?”

Blaine shrugs. “That stage of life?”

“Must be,” Kurt says, finishing his drink. “I fucking hate it.”

Blaine stares at him for a few moments, making Kurt’s heart speed up. He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, then asks, “Is it because you miss Elliott?”

Kurt shakes his head instantly and forcefully. “No,” he says. “I mean, yes, I miss having him around, and being his friend, but no.”

“Are you sure?” Blaine asks. “I know that he—”

“Really, I’m sure,” Kurt says. “It’s not about Elliott. It’s just… I felt like I would be there with them by now, you know? I’m thirty, I’m ready. I want to be married, I want to have kids.”

“That kind of sounds like it’s about Elliott,” Blaine says skeptically. “Are you regretting breaking up with him?”

“No,” Kurt says, as emphatically as he can. “Look, Elliott and I… it wasn’t right. I knew the second he got down on one knee. I don’t regret breaking up with him, outside of the fact that it lost me one of my closest friends.” He looks back out to the couples on the dance floor, sighing heavily. “I just want to be in love, and happy, with the man that I plan on marrying. Is that too much to ask?”

He looks back at Blaine, who is sucking on the inside of his cheek. He lifts his eyes to meet Kurt’s stare, then says the last thing Kurt expected him to say.

“It’s been ten years.”

Kurt’s heart skips a beat, then another. He feels like he can’t breathe. “What?”

“I don’t know if you remember, but it’s been ten years,” Blaine turns so that he’s facing Kurt completely.

Of course Kurt remembers. It’s been all he’s been able to think about for the past six months. But Blaine… Blaine is supposed to be over him. Blaine told him he was over him.

If he’s saying this now, though, maybe he isn’t. What other reason would he have to bring up Kurt’s promise from ten years ago?

Blaine stares Kurt down, almost unblinking, and Kurt swallows the dryness that has taken over his throat.

This feels like a giant ‘fuck you’ from the universe. Giving Kurt the possibility to actually and truly break Blaine’s heart. After all, what if he tells Blaine that he reciprocates his feelings, only to date him for a week and realize that he didn’t like him that way at all, he just liked the idea of him? He couldn’t bear it. He’s already hurt Blaine so much over the past twelve years.

But if his feelings for Blaine are genuine…

“I’m sorry,” Blaine says, clearly tired of Kurt’s silence. “I told you I was over you, and now I’m bringing this up…” he takes a deep breath, then says, “I get it. This, you and me, it’s never going to happen. I’m really sorry that I keep coming back to it when I know it makes you so uncomfortable.” He smiles, though it looks anything but happy. “I guess I’ll always be Cooper’s dorky younger brother in your eyes, huh?”

A myriad of memories hit Kurt at once, screaming at him that no, that’s not true and it’s never been true. Even when Blaine was thirteen, he was never just Cooper’s younger brother. Kurt’s never once in his life thought of him like that.

Blaine hops back off the barstool and Kurt watches him go, frozen on the spot, twelve years worth of memories flying through his mind, begging him for once not to let Blaine walk away.

Part Two: Bucket

#klaine advent 2017 #klaine advent: attachment #klaineanummel fic #klaine fic #klaine au #age difference #fic: soml #over 20k under 50k

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thepelagoislands · 6 years

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Dove! Hello! It is I, Taylor, your secret santa! I have brought you a gift in the form of Elliott fanfiction! Hope you enjoy ;;)

–

He watched the sea sometimes, though he didn’t know why. Inspiration, he told himself, halfway stuck between a long train monologue on page fifty-five and a moment of sexual tension that would be written God knows when. Unwritten words that filled in the gaps between scenes, words he knew he needed to write but didn’t care to; an empty boring space between the good chunks of goodness.

Sometimes he told himself to just skim over that section and think about it at another time. Go back and write the full thing later, Elliott. Whatever was skipped could be re-written later. A minor edit in the grand scheme of a completed novel. But he couldn’t bring himself to strike out the gaps, like it would be cutting corners. Was it cutting corners, half-assing a novel he promised himself he would complete in full? Of course it was.

It was halfway between page fifty-seven and fifty-eight when he stormed out of his shack on the beach, the winter breeze trailing from the ocean and combing through untamed hair, tangled from a full day’s work. The word “work” being emphasized in strong quotations in the back of his mind. He wrote, so he worked, but he got stuck halfway through the day, so he was slacking. Such as the life of a harsh novelist went. Forever criticizing one small setback in a novel’s worth of trouble.

The stars were out, witnessing his entire, pathetic form. Dark circles beneath his eyes, partially bloodshot from staring at type all day. He was draped in clothes he would never be caught dead in when he strutted through Pelican Town. Pajama pants and a loose fitting shirt; too loose and too drab for anyone to see.

“Um…hey?”

Elliott froze, slowly turning his head to see the farmer. The special farmer who had moved in, causing quite a stir among all of the residents. And the farmer who Elliott had taken quite a liking to. Elliott was mortified, unable to move but full of a desire to run right back to his shack, lock the door behind him, and not emerge until the farmer forgot everything about this very moment. The farmer knew he was a writer, but usually nobody thought about the results of such a life. It wasn’t pretty, especially with someone with as high of standards as Elliott in the day-to-day.

He must have been taking much too long to answer (Elliott blamed it on the late night coffee, too wired to think properly) because the farmer continued on, “Bad night?”

Elliott couldn’t help but chuckle anxiously, scratching the back of his head, “How would you ever suspect such a thing from me?”

The farmer let out an amused breath of air, “Well, you’ve been locked in there all day.”

“You checked?” Elliott found himself asking, turning immediately towards them. He felt his heart flutter just a bit.

“Well…about lunchtime. Didn’t think you heard me,” the farmer admitted, “And you just look…a little rough around the edges right now.”

“You’re certainly putting it down in the gentlest way possible.”

“I know,” the farmer chuckled before they adopted a more serious look, “So…?”

“I might have had one setback.”

“Really? Anything I can do to help?”

“Unless you’re an expert on train technology, I think I’m good,” Elliott chuckled, crossing his arms and looking at them with an amused look on his face.

“I’ll have you know that I am an expert,” the farmer grinned as well, “Shoot.”

“Well…” Elliott thought to the main setting of the plot. It was a romance, taking place entirely on a train. A train stewardess falling in love with a travelling architect. All taking place on the longest train ride imaginable. No stops. “How long would it take to go to Forget-Me-Not Valley from here, by the slowest train ever produced?”

“Well if it’s at least going at a snail’s pace…then my scientific deduction would be a solid eventually,” the farmer giggled, “It’ll eventually arrive.”

“Interesting deduction.”

“Thank you. I’m an expert in my field,” the farmer giggled again.

“It’s a miracle that you’re here, then,” Elliott couldn’t help a small smile form on his lips, temporarily forgetting about the horrifying state that his outward appearance was in.

“Anything else?” the farmer’s voice was like a song to him. They stepped a little closer, looking up at him curiously, an amused glint in their eyes.

“Well…” he placed a hand to his chin, thinking hard for a while, “How long would it take to rush from one end of a train to the other?” A vivid scene bloomed in his mind. The stewardess, overcome with the sudden realization that she was in love, would come running from the back of the train to the architect’s cabin near the front. She would bypass dinner carts and shops and the bars, not caring as the entire train seemed to witness her frantic pace. She would be in love, and nothing would hold her back.

Only…that wouldn’t happen until much later. They had only just met on page twenty-six. The architect wasn’t even a romantic possibility in her head yet, just another passenger on a long, boring train ride.

He cursed the fact that romance took so God damn long.

“Well that depends,” the farmer looked out to the sea, pretending to be in deep concentration, “How many obstacles are there? What if a train stewardess is slowly offering everyone snacks? Would you have to barrel right through the cart? What if you wanted to apologize? And what if someone really wants to make your acquaintance along the way? Would you ignore them or just keep gunning it?”

Elliott couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re really putting thought into this.”

“No I’m not. You’re just giving me too few details to work with, Mr. Writer,” the farmer looked up at him this time, giving him a subtle wink. Elliott couldn’t help the small flush of his cheeks that he hoped was masked by the darkness. One vivid scene bloomed in his mind. Him pressing his lips to theirs, getting lost in whatever fringes of romance were seeping beyond the horizon, yet to bloom into something substantial. He wanted to have them now, to express everything he was feeling for the farmer.

But he didn’t. He just forced himself to look out at the horizon, remembering again and again that it was too soon. They had only met on page twenty-six. It was his fault he was already yearning for page one hundred. He needed to wait until the novel was finished.

“Fine, fine,” Elliott spoke, sighing dramatically, “Another question…how long does it take for someone to fall in love?”

A long pause fell between them. Elliott was internally kicking himself. What had he just said to himself? He couldn’t push it! Both of them were looking at the ocean now, Elliott occasionally checking how the farmer was reacting from the corner of his eye. Like they would know his feelings just by a simple question. Of course they wouldn’t. They were still talking about the novel.

“Well…” the farmer tilted their head, “I’m not much of an expert on that.”

“Any input will do,” Elliott spoke, almost too quickly.

“Hm…” the farmer looked up at him, though he struggled to keep his eyes on the horizon, “Well, maybe I can tell you later? If I happen to have expert advice. The only advice I have is to…keep it natural? Let it just…happen?”

Oh, how he wanted it to happen. So badly. Waiting sucked.

Still, he knew it was what he needed to do.

“Thank you,” Elliott finally managed to stuff his feelings down his throat and look at the farmer, a smile on his face, “I think I’m going to try writing some more. Maybe I’ll manage to hit my quota before sunrise.” Doubtful, but a man could dream. He began walking towards his shack, ignoring the pull that the farmer had on him. Not that they knew it.

“Okay,” the farmer remained on the beach, opting to simply let him walk away. He imagined all of the possibilities in his head. Them calling out to him, overcome by the sight of him walking away. Confessing to him right then, like a fire had been started in the pit on their stomach.

Not like that would happen now.

The farmer suddenly spoke up again, “H-Hey…Elliott?”

Elliott froze. Wait…what? He turned towards the farmer, genuine surprise in his eyes.

“What is it?”

“Um…you can come to me if you need anything, okay?” the farmer looked nervous, a touch of pink on their cheeks.

Oh…they were going to be the death of him. It was so tempting. They were right there, begging for him to rush over and crash into them.

He knew it couldn’t happen right then. It was too soon. A small flame would easily get snuffed out in an instant. Elliott wanted a wildfire.

“Anything?” Elliott couldn’t help but flirt, just so he could watch the red dance on their cheeks, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

He turned back and walked into his shack.

He needed to finish this novel as soon as he could.

#pi:secretsanta #submission

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kayla1993-world · 4 years

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John Crosbie was a one-of-a-kind politician, a mix of differences and endlessly fascinated by his home region. He was also, writes John Gushue, a very convenient public official.

When John Crosbie released his stories in 1997, there was a bit of a rush to read the juicy bits. My Life in Politics, which Crosbie wrote with former Globe & Mail managing editor Geoff Stevens, was stacked with them; I recall seeing a couple of people at a store when the book came out, scanning the index of names at the end with their fingers, and flicking quickly to stated pages.

He did not disappoint.

One of my favourite stories in the book is about what went down when a young Crosbie and Clyde Wells decided they had made a devil's agreement by joining Joseph R. Smallwood's cabinet in 1966, and had had enough of what he called ill-judged industrial plans. The final straw was the Come By Chance oil factory, and their disgust with one John Shaheen.

By May 1968, they had had enough. One Monday morning, armed with departure memos, they marched into Smallwood's office.

What did they find? Smallwood was prepared with documents of his own.

"He produced two letters and said, 'I'm dismissing you.' I said, 'Like f--k you are. Here's my letter of departure." Crosbie then flicked his letter at an angry Smallwood.

I believe I am safe in assuming that Clyde Wells — who would have course go on to be premier, a job that Crosbie once wanted but never won — did not use the same kind of language. (Michael Harris, my former editor and the author of Rare Passion, a must-read book about the history of the Crosbie family, noted that while Crosbie had the comfort of the family fortune to fall back on, it was Wells, a 30-year-old lawyer of humble origins and a young family at the time, who took the far biggest risk of standing up to Smallwood.)

The story always spoke to me about John Crosbie, and who he was as a person — not so much about the salty language, but about his opinions.

Crosbie, 88, died Friday morning. He leaves a rich, complicated bequest.

Even though he never led a government, he succeeded in many levels of government, and after leaving politics continued to serve in roles that included lieutenant-governor and chancellor of Memorial University.

Let's talk about his tongue, and his chin.

With the first, he called it as he saw it, and was not afraid of offending people. That rude tongue got him in trouble a lot, even in an epoch that was far more disregarding than now … and much more tolerant of off-colour jokes and insulting language.

That, it has to be said, was part of John Crosbie's life. However, I often was struck at what a walking batch of differences Crosbie was. He sometimes seemed to enjoy provoking women-lovers, yet supported many of their causes (he was a pro-choice Red Tory, and there don't seem to be as many of them anymore).

Cartoonists loved him. His chin was often a focus, and they loved to draw him — he was unique (as finance minister in 1979, he wore mukluks rather than the old notion of a new pair of shoes) and interesting, and constant food for Canada's opinion pages.

Like comedians and impressionists (the key to sounding like Crosbie is the rough sound that comes from the back of the throat, and not the Irish accent that some mainlanders mistakenly adopted), cartoonists were drawn to him like nails to a magnet.

And he loved their exploitation. Rather than be offended, Crosbie's staff would find originals of cartoons. His house in Hogan's Pond, just outside St. John's, is lined with dozens of them.

I first met Crosbie professionally in the mid-1980s, when my first reporting job took me to Ottawa. Crosbie was one of Brian Mulroney's front bench ministers then, and a bit of a darling with the press corps; even on a dry day, Crosbie could be counted on to say something colourful, maybe even offensive. I recall looking at the disorganized struggles around him; they always seemed to be wider than those of most of his peers.

I also remember how the air in the public gallery in the House of Commons would become a little more electric when Liberal MP George Baker would rise from his seat. Baker would often be casting a point at Crosbie, knowing full well Crosbie would fire right back at him. Even sourpuss partners would crack up as they enjoyed political theatre of the very best kind.

Crosbie didn't back down from a fight often, but he wasn't careless with the actions he picked, either. He said it was "fun to tangle" with former prime minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau, whose pride and enjoyment of life he actually liked. There was a famous exchange in May 1983, in which they not only fought about an possible conflict of interest, but did it with Latin — and Greek.

"There is a test which is well known and which I will not insist on but which has been used time out of mind: Quad semper, quad ubique, quad omnibus," said Trudeau, using the Latin phrase that really means something always was, was everywhere, and known by all.

Crosbie didn't miss a beat. "That's the Jesuit coming out," to which Trudeau could not resist an insult. "I know that is beyond the important member for St. John's West."

Crosbie interrupted Trudeau with some Latin of his own: "Res ipsa loquitor" — a well-known legal phrase meaning "the thing speaks for itself." In fact, Crosbie translated it on the floor, to which Trudeau said, "Oh, you don't have to translate it." Trudeau then teased Crosbie in Greek: "Ta zoa etrekhe," which means "the animals are running, before adding, in English, "and that applies to him."

Crosbie closed the exchange — and apparently brought the house down — with the only Greek phrase he could remember. "Andrezesthe krateousthe," which he translated in his journal as "Could you like men be strong."

I talked with Crosbie many times over the years. My favourite interview, by far, happened in the fall of 1989, when I was a young reporter working with the Sunday Express in St. John's. I wanted to write about the legendary rural Liberal leadership race of 1969, when Smallwood cancelled his planned retirement to run against Crosbie to replace himself. I had heard so much about it over the years, and was curious to know more. Smallwood was still alive at the time, but was unable to speak because of a stroke. (I did get to interview Smallwood once, as a Grade 8 student. Story for another time.)

Crosbie was more than game to talk; the question was finding time. We found a Sunday afternoon. I was staying with relatives in Ontario; he was in New Brunswick, in a hotel room with family. As he was propping his feet up, he directed a young child on how to pour Poppy a drink and bring it to him.

We spoke for more than an hour, as he recalled details, spun stories and cracked jokes. The episode interfered with Crosbie's desires to be premier, but played a big part in pushing him to the Tory side of politics. Smallwood's was a winner; in less than three years, the PCs were not only a functional party, but running the government.

Crosbie wanted to lead ("I wanted to premier that badly!" he wrote of why he accepted Smallwood's poisoned-cup invitation to join cabinet in 1966), at both the local and federal level. It's often said Crosbie was the best premier the region never had.

Easy, informed and a bit of a quote machine, Crosbie was a reliable interview. Over the years, especially after his retirement, he was also just fun to talk with. As the Latin and Greek exchange above suggests, he was well educated (he was top of his class as both an undergraduate and a law student), and very well read. On some occasions, just talking, he'd ask about what I was reading. He seemed to read energetically, and widely. To cast him as an adherent with a fixed view on the world would be to misunderstand him completely.

It's worth noting that Crosbie expressed regrets about being so quick with jokes and points. He worried sometimes that people would not take him seriously.

Another favourite moment with Crosbie was the time we found ourselves attending a dinner theatre in Gander. The audience consisted of my family of three. He was travelling with his wife, Jane Crosbie, and an assistant de camp.

Believe it or not, we were the only people in the audience. We all sat together at the same table. I felt bad for the performers, who but put on a show as if the house was full.

The Crosbies were entertaining that night, too. In my view, Jane Crosbie can be at least as bright as her husband. I recall him saying he needed to work at keeping up with her.

At the time, John was fully advancing for his passion project: the memorial to sealers that would be built in Elliston. (It was finally named for him.) Even though it was the height of summer, he was wearing a sealskin vest, a article he wore so proudly and often that it's what often comes to mind when I think about Crosbie.

Crosbie was created for many things, and one of them was an inability to make eye contact. Some people I know found it withdrawing; I guess I and other writers were usual to it. (I remember once searching through a long interview he gave to Anthony Germain to find a frame of Crosbie looking up. I found exactly one moment where he did so.)

At a podium, though, or in a house, Crosbie could give operatic performances: arms waving, head brought back, no sense at all that this man once went to Dale Carnegie courses so he could speak comfortably in public settings.

Notwithstanding the lack of eye contact in conversation, Crosbie could in other cases be at ease. He loved to chuckle — and to tease. A point or two about the mechanisms was the usual way things go. (He would often, I should note, add that his reject was for the national press, or as he put it "the bosses," whoever they were.)

This is how I will remember John Crosbie: a terribly smart, boldly stubborn, deeply dedicated (for his area, especially) and finally warm-hearted man. He was one of a kind.

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fionakisch03-blog · 6 years

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leafslovehurts · 7 years

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#LeafsAreActuallyGood

A blog about how much it hurts to love the Leafs doesn’t need to exist when both the team’s President and head coach inform the fanbase, with comforting frankness, that pain is coming.

The current regime has done everything imaginable to set my mind at ease. Even last season, in all it’s awfulness, was in essence a victory, because the team planned on tanking and came in dead last, landing franchise center Auston Matthews. I still found things to be frustrated about last year, particularly Joffrey Lupul’s tepid performance in the latter half of the season. But overall I was just fine with watching the opposing team skate rings around our rentals (Grabner, Paranteau, Arcobello, Brennan, Laich, Matthias, Spaling, et al) as we rode the proverbial eighteen wheeler to the basement.

I’m not complaining about having less to write about these days. It’s obvious anyway that my mind has been elsewhere, chiefly watching and enjoying the team, devouring thousands of words in Leafs coverage per night in between periods. I stream my games so I don’t get to watch the intermission chatter, which has actually strengthened my love for the game. It’s amazing how the opinions you form are in tandem with those talking heads, even when you haven’t heard what they said. This is either because I am a genius, or because the things they say are generally patently obvious. Except for anything Elliotte Friedman says, because Elliotte Friedman is an excellent analyst and broadcaster, the TV personality of Mike Gartner. You don’t notice how good he is until you realize how much faster he is than everyone around him.

Things haven’t been this good in nearly fifteen years. Even before Game 7, the 2013 playoff run smacked of a fluke, what with the team riding an impossibly high shooting percentage and winning games despite being outshot every single night. It is roundly acknowledged that the Leafs would not have made the playoffs if the 2012-2013 season went to 82 games, or even 62.

But this has been a tremendous year, even if the Bruins just knocked the Leafs back to ninth after holding a playoff spot for all of twenty four hours. Not only has the on-ice product been exhilarating, the coverage of the team has been uniformly excellent this season, save for Simmons. @JeffVeillette’s hashtag #LeafsAreActuallyGood is getting more and more retweets every day, and deservedly so. And The Athletic is providing some absolutely fantastic journalism, even if I can’t be bothered to pay for it because I’m broke all the time. Suffice it to say, I would read the exclusive content if someone bought me subscription, but I probably should have said so before Christmas.

So here’s what I’ll be doing lately instead of complaining: Along with more regular updates, I’ll also be rounding up and posting links to Leaf-related content, though not as a traditional aggregator. While I will be posting recently published articles (80% of them likely being the work of Sean McIndoe or Down Goes Brown, as he’s more famously known, 15% James Mirtle who I hate less now that he’s dialed down the smug, and the other 5% being wildcards), I’ll also be digging up some old stuff such as old articles featuring terrible Leaf predictions, interesting YouTube videos, and podcasts or images relating to the Leafs that I have something to say about. I’ll also occasionally post an article or two that has nothing to do with the team at all. I’ll be doing all of this for a few reasons:

1. To discipline my writing by shoehorning my usually flowery sentences into the more economical form of the capsule review. 2. To curate content according to my own tastes, so that my Google searches start filtering out writers I dislike. 3. To find a way to keep the blog going without complaining in every post. 4. To be less like a Leafs fans answer to Maddox, who disappeared from the internet just as social media was exploding, and in doing so buried himself beneath the bilge of bellowing bastards that is Twitter, Facebook, and to a much lesser extent, Tumblr. I don’t mean that I’m relevant to social media, but that the number of posts on this blog began to decline just as the team’s fortunes began their ascent, and that this was not coincidental. 5. The non-Leaf stuff will be posted just to prove that I have a life outside the team, even if I may not have a life outside my bedroom. I still love the Leafs just as much as you do. Don’t believe me? Ask the needle that a guy named George dragged through my skin last week for forty-five minutes.

#LeafsLoveHurts In more ways than one.

Anyway, posting links to articles other people have written might help distract from the fact that right now I don’t have much to say other than: I love that the team is playing high event hockey this season and winning in ways that are actually sustainable, though I hate that they have such a hard time holding onto leads and I loath the defence pairing of Polak and Hunwick and don’t understand why Babcock continues to give them minutes when they are clearly struggling. Neither man can even make a simple outlet pass. They need to be shipped to Robidas Island before I complete this sentence. Still here? Fuck off.

So, here’s today’s or this week’s or whatever’s three articles of the day, week, whatever:

1. Let’s start with a great article from, who else, Down Goes Brown on Brian Burke’s trade acumen when he was the GM in Toronto:

2. This one is only tangentially related to Toronto, in that it’s about Tim Leiweke, which is a bit of an odd choice given that said article was published before Tim came to Toronto, and I’m posting a link to it well after he has left Toronto. But it is such a good fucking read that I have to put it here. It will take you half an hour to forty five minutes, but you won’t regret it. Reading from the perspective of now, you feel almost bad for the guy for not fielding an NFL team in Los Angeles after all that hard work. Don’t fuck with the NFL. They truly do not give a shit if you spend a billion dollars on your stadium, especially if you inexplicably sold the naming rights before gaining city approval and league approval. Seriously,this article is so good, I’m posting another hyperlink to it in my next sentence. Read this fucking amazing thing.

3. This one isn’t Leaf related at all, but it is an astounding achievement in the field of crime journalism, written by an author who claims that men are obsolete in today’s world. I’m not making a selective interpretation here. Her book is actually called The End Of Men.

Men are done. Who woulda thunk. Maybe that explains why the Toronto Maple Leafs are almost exclusively comprised of boys who can’t yet drink legally.

That’s the news, lose yer blues. Why? #LeafsAreActuallyGood

Spread the word. Don’t be a turd.

#torontomapleleafs #leafsareactuallygood #timleiweke #austonmatthews #toronto #hockey #downgoesbrown #jamesmirtle #theathletic #brianburke

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