#wine critic!Kurt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queenshelby · 4 years ago

Text

The Singer – Part One

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Fem Reader

Words: 3678

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Age Gap

Tag List (Cillian Murphy):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby

It was almost midnight when you sat on the study desk of your somewhat cold and empty penthouse apartment while Cillian starred into the sky from the large window with almost empty eyes.

There were boxes everywhere, a mattress on the floor with some sheets and pillows, surrounded by at least three book cases, four guitars, a piano and God knows what other musical instruments you’ve been collecting since you left school six years ago.

Your furniture wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow and you weren’t quite sure what you were doing here in this empty place, accompanied by the man you just, two weeks ago, had a fall out with over something ridiculously minor.

‘Beer or wine?’ you asked, trying not to think about it too much. You wanted to enjoy your new apartment and, despite your dislike for each other at work, Cillian had pretty much just saved you from an unpleasant encounter with Kurt, the man who you spent the last two years with and who you broke up with as little as eight weeks ago. You called it a break, but now you were moving out. It seemed pretty much final but you hadn’t made up your mind yet. It’s been two years wasted with a man who is controlling and cheated on you more than once.

‘That depends on whether the beer is warm or cold?’ Cillian chuckled, causing you to laugh. Of course, you had no fridge yet and he probably knew the answer.

‘Good point’ you said as you handed him the bottle of wine the real estate agent had left in the apartment for you as a welcome present along with a paper coffee cup.

Cillian raised an eyebrow and laughed, thinking about the last time he had wine from a take away coffee cup, which was probably about 25 years ago.

‘Or you can drink from the bottle, if you like’ you giggled as you observed Cillian’s facial expression.

You still weren’t sure why he stayed, keeping you company. The last time you spoke, Cillian and you had an argument. In fact, you had nothing but arguments since the moment Kurt introduced you several weeks ago. Cillian, Kurt, yourself and some others, including Amanda, a fellow musician you’ve known for three years and who was also Cillian’s ex-girlfriend, were all organising a large arts and music festival in Ireland involving several charities.

Cillian and you weren’t exactly likeminded but, yet, you had to work together. There was a twenty year age difference between you and Cillian and you were quite out there, young and quirky, spending a fair amount of your time on social media, and not shy when it came to public engagements which, as a singer, you had plenty of. Cillian on the other hand was reserved and stayed away from the public eye as much as he could despite of his occupation as an actor.

But, there was one thing he praised you for during last weeks’ meeting for the music festival and that was the fact that you were open about your sexuality, but not for the sake of publicity, but rather for promoting acceptance and you had a strong voice when it came to promoting the event as LGBT friendly.

You had received a lot of criticism and bad press in recent weeks about it and Cillian was the one who told you to let it go, to ignore it. He told you that you were doing the right thing, standing up for equality and he supported your cause.

He knew what it was like to be in the public eye and you appreciated his kind words on that day when you were feeling down. It was the first time you connected after a rampage of arguments.

That day, you told Cillian that your first long term relationship was with a woman named Laura, an artist from London who was eight years your senior. You received a lot of negative publicity as a result of your relationship and it eventually broke you. Standing up for yourself had become draining and painful.

Then there was Kurt, a music producer who Cillian knew and who you met a few years ago when working on a project with other musicians. Kurt was only a few years older than you which is probably why things didn’t work out in the end. You were always a little bit more interested in men and women who were older than you, who had experience in life, which was something that made Cillian chuckle when you told him. But Cillian didn’t believe that Kurt’s age was the problem, it was his impulsiveness and lack of direction.

Even with that, Cillian clearly didn’t take you seriously until this evening when, during your last meeting with the group to revisit the schedule for the festival, Kurt disrespected you and became verbally abusive.

This is when Cillian stood up for you, explaining to Kurt that, regardless of the breakup you and him were going through, this wasn’t acceptable and he couldn’t speak to you the way he did.

You were in tears following the meeting and Cillian was kind enough to drive you to your place which was not much of a place at all.

Whilst Cillian agreed to stay for an hour, he didn’t really talk much. Perhaps, he had nothing to talk with you about until you brought up a subject which was a sore point for him after you finished almost the entire bottle of wine together in silence.

‘So, Amanda and you, it’s over, for good this time?’ you asked as Cillian placed the empty bottle of wine onto the study desk where you were sitting. He had spent the last half an hour starring out of the window and down towards the river, taking in the breathtaking view from your apartment.

‘It’s over’ he said as he looked at you for a brief moment. His relationship with Amanda was turbulent to say the least and they had taken at least three breaks within the last year, trying to save what simply couldn’t be saved.

‘I am sorry’ was all you managed to say in response.

‘Yeah, me too’ Cillian chuckled, thinking about the last five years he had spent with her.

You went on to talk about Cillian’s relationship with Amanda, which ended as recent as two days ago, and your relationship with Kurt which, officially, was on hold. But, after about half an hour, the topic became exhausting as both of you wanted to forget about the pain and heartache in your lives caused by these two people. It was too much to bear and ponder on about.

‘Here is to breakups’ you said to finish up the conversation and pulled out a small bottle of whiskey from the draw of your study desk.

‘I am not going to drink that Y/N’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Yeah, me neither’ you said after you took a small sip from the bottle and began to shake your head in disgust, poking out your pierced tongue as if you were about to choke.

‘Why do you have a bottle of whiskey in your desk if you don’t like whiskey?’ Cillian laughed.

‘It’s not my desk. It’s Kurt’s desk. Well, it’s mine now….’ you said. ‘I wonder what else he stuffed into the draws’ you said sheepishly before taking a look.

Slowly, you began emptying the draws and retrieved at least fifty euro in loose change, a James Joyce novel, a packet of cigarettes, several pens, some paper and a half empty packet of condoms.

‘Well, I cannot say that I am surprised. I wonder how many women he fucked on this table. Luckily I cleaned it when I moved it in here’ you said unbothered by his actions. By that point, you had made your peace with it.

‘Here is to breakups, right?’ Cillian chuckled as he took the last sip from his cup of wine and smiled at you.

‘Do you play?’ you asked, trying to lighten up the mood and Cillian nodded. ‘A little’ he said shyly.

You handed him one the guitars sitting on the floor and took another yourself. After a few initial slip ups, you agreed on some Nirvana and played in sync. He was a much better guitarist than he let on, that was for sure.

Music was an outlet for you and Cillian. You both enjoyed it to get away from your day-to-day life and worries and you played wonderfully together.

Eventually, you heard a roar from outside, interfering with the beautiful and mesmerising sound of the guitars.

‘Thank fuck’ you laughed as you placed your guitar onto the floor, realising that the central heating system had just kicked in after you weren’t able to get it going.

‘You might need to get this fixed, it’s awfully loud’ Cillian suggested as he stood up to follow you to where the heat control pad was located.

He noticed you playing around with the buttons, not knowing what to do.

‘Here, let me show you’ he said as he set the temperature but, instead of looking at what he was doing, your eyes gazed at him, searchingly. He was handsome and there was an attraction, something you hadn’t seen in him before.

‘Well, it’s working because it’s getting pretty hot’ you chuckled after you handed him the control and before taking off your jumper, leaving you in a black singlet and a beige cotton skirt.

Cillian couldn’t help himself but stare at you for a minute or two, noticing that you weren’t wearing a bra, your nipple piercings clearly visible through the thin cotton singlet.

‘Yeah, I'm feeling a little hot myself now’ Cillian said as his cheeks turned red before walking back towards the desk where he had earlier placed his belongings.

His comment made you giggle and bite your lip, your cheeks turning as red as his. This had just become awkward.

‘I should probably go’ he said shyly to get away from the awkwardness but, just as he did, you approached him, standing yourself right in front of him.

‘Alright, yes….thank you again’ you said shyly while biting your lip again, suggestively flicking your tongue piercing over it.

With that, you felt his strong hands on your back, beginning to slowly pull you to him, until his face was a mere inches from yours. Without words, he slowly tilted his head and kissed you, gently at first, and then more passionately, his tongue finding yours. Your hands caressed his shoulders as your breasts pressed against his chest.

‘Fuck, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have…I need to go’ Cillian said as he pulled away from you and, before he could finish his sentence, you pulled him back closer towards you for another kiss.

‘Y/N, stop. We can’t’ Cillian said as he pushed you away ever so gently.

‘Why?’ you asked, curious about his reasons. He was the one who kissed you first so clearly, he thought that you were attractive.

‘You are twenty years younger than me and we are both hurt, coming out of broken relationships. It’s a bad idea. Despite, I am not one for one-night stands, it’s not my thing’ Cillian said and, just as he did, you ran your hands over his chest and moved your hips a little closer towards his where you could feel his hardening cock.

‘Well, I don’t usually do this sort of stuff either but I know I can trust you. I doubt that you would be posting about it all over Twitter’ you chuckled.

‘Yeah…I don’t do social media; I am too old for that’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Which is kind of sexy’ you said suggestively, your body still pressed against Cillian’s body.

‘What is?’ Cillian asked.

‘The fact that you are older…surely you have listened to some of my music’ you laughed as you recently published a few Indie songs involving older men and age gaps between lovers.

Cillian raised his left eyebrow in response to your comment, knowing very well which songs you were referring to and, just as he did, you leaned forward again to kiss him, following his body language and cues.

‘Y/N’ Cillian said with a deep sigh in between kisses, but he was unable to pull away from you this time.

You opened your mouth slightly as you were kissing, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth and swirl around yours and, just as you were kissing passionately, he guided you to the back of the room.

With his lips never leaving yours, Cillian pressed his body against yours, pinning you to the bookcase behind you. You arched your back, allowing him access to your breasts, which he cupped instinctively with his big hands. They felt so firm and he could feel your nipples hardening through the sheer fabric of your cotton singlet.

‘This needs to stay between us’ Cillian mumbled with a heavy breath just as your lips drifted apart and you nodded in response to his comment.

‘It’s one-off Cillian, just to help us forget about all the shit we went through’ you said also with laboured breathing before pressing your lips back onto Cillian’s.

‘Yes…exactly’ Cillian said after you pulled your lips away to take a breather and allowing him to pull your singlet over your head.

‘Good’ you moaned as Cillian began to squeeze your breasts lightly with his hands, his thumbs rubbing your nipples and his fingers pulling on your piercings slightly.

He kissed you lovely neck and shoulders, working his way down to the top of your breasts. You put your hand behind his head and guided his lips to your nipple, pressing his face against your firm breast.

Cillian swirled his tongue over your hardened nipple, sucking it in ever so gently before pulling on your piercing with his teeth gently.

You moaned again, louder this time, as you could feel the wetness building up in between your legs. You wanted him, needed him, to be inside you. Now.

You reached down and began to undo his belt, almost frantically. You unbuttoned his pants and slid your hand under his briefs, down his crotch, and over the hardest and sweetest cock you had ever felt. You freed it from the confines of his pants, letting them fall to his feet, and began to slowly stroke him.

His hand, meanwhile, was finding its way under your skirt and beneath your panties to your now completely wet mound. His fingers slid between the folds and coated them instantly with your wetness. He couldn't believe how wet, and how tight, you were.

Cillian let out a soft growl as he pulled your panties down your legs, slowly while your hands reached down to cup his balls.

‘Please’ you moaned, ‘I want you to fuck me. Right here’ you said, which was all Cillian needed to hear.

Without his eyes leaving you, he reached behind for the packet of condoms that you had earlier placed on top of the study desk conveniently.

‘Now that was a lucky find, wasn’t it?’ you giggled as you watched Cillian open the foil of the condom with his teeth.

‘Thank you Kurt’ Cillian said sheepishly before he pressed his lips back onto yours while rolling the condom over his hard shaft.

‘I want you so badly’ you said suggestively while Cillian lifted you in his arms and you wrapped your legs around his torso. He pressed the tip of his cock against you wet folds and you reached in between you and guided his cock to your tight opening. He slowly lowered you so the tip popped inside you, causing you to gasp. His eyes fixed on yours, he pushed his cock into you and you cried out as you took his cock completely inside you. You had never been filled so completely.

Pressed against the bookcase, your arms spread wide and you felt him start to thrust in and out of you. Slowly. Deeply. Pulling almost all the way out and then plunging all the way in again. Over and over. Each time he filled you. And each time you cried out. She couldn't believe how good it felt. Over and over, he thrust into you, wanting you, needing you, like he'd needed no woman before. His hands were gripping your ass, raising and lowering you onto his hard cock. He felt like he couldn't get deep enough inside you, burying himself to the hilt, making you cry out. You were so responsive it made him want to cum then and there, but he held out.

‘Oh god, fuck, this is deep’ you moaned as he buried himself deep inside of you over and over again.

‘Fuck’ was all that could escape Cillian’s lips. You were incredibly tight, more than he was used to and, knowing that he couldn't hold out much longer, he lifted you off his cock and lowered you to the floor, grateful for the momentary respite.

‘Turn around’ he instructed with a heavy breath and you loved the fact that he took charge and obliged with his request and leaned against the study desk near the bookshelf against which you were fucking.

Your eyes widened as Cillian pushed you down against the desk before taking your hips into his hands. ‘Spread your legs’ he said in a low, authoritative voice. It sent shivers of excitement through your body. You couldn't see him, you were now facing the large window overlooking the river, but you did as you were told.

You were standing there, your breasts pressed against the cold wood of Kurt’s study desk, wearing nothing but a skirt which was pulled up over your stomach and your doc martin boots, with your ass in the air and your legs spread.

You felt a ribbon of wetness drip from your slit down your inner thigh as Cillian took his glistening, hard cock in his hand and gently rubbed it over your now swollen lips.

‘Do you like it like this? From behind?’ Cillian teased knowing exactly what your answer would be.

‘Hmm, so much’ you panted as he slowly pushed his cock half way inside you and back out again.

‘Stop teasing Cillian…just fuck me, please’ you moaned, trying to push back against him and, just like that, he shoved himself into you again, three quarters of the way into your warm wetness. You moaned loudly and he pulled back out.

‘Cillian’ you said firmly, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘You are so impatient, you know that?’ Cillian said as he could hear you breath heavily. You were arching your back, your ass raised as if you were begging for his cock.

But, he obliged with your request and, finally, took your hips in his hands and pushed his cock all the way into you. He felt the tip pressing against your cervix and you let out a loud moan.

‘Oh god yes…please’ you pleaded with him. You wanted Cillian to take you hard and he could sense it and began to thrust into you with more force, burying himself inside your dripping wet entrance. You let out a moan with every thrust, feeling him fill your up completely, spreading you. You were moaning "fuck me, fuck me" but it was so guttural, so primal, it was almost incomprehensible.

With one hand, he reached around and found your clit, swollen and hard, and started to rub it; with the other, he found your breasts and pinched your nipples, pulling on your piercings gently. A moment later, your walls started to contract around his cock and your body began to shudder.

With your walls contracting around him, Cillian soon felt his own orgasm start in his extremities, gather in his groin and his shaft.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian’ you moaned as your orgasm engulfed you and the last thing you remembered was your hands gripping onto the dark cedar desk while Cillian thrusted into you again one final time, filling the condom inside of you.

‘Fuck’ he said, his breathing laboured as he leaned down to kiss your neck gently before pulling out of you.

‘This was amazing’ you giggled as you finally managed to catch your breath. You got up and pulled down your skirt and put your top back on while Cillian pulled up his pants and disposed of the condom discreetly.

‘I can’t believe this just happened’ Cillian said somewhat surprised by his own actions, causing you both to break out in laughter before sharing another kiss.

The sex he had with you was unlike any other he had before. It was almost primal and neither of you bothered to get undressed completely. There was a desperate desire between you, an urgency, yet you fucked for almost an hour, drawing it out as long as you possibly could.

‘It was fun though, right?’ you asked, feeling somewhat weird about what had happened between you.

‘Yes…yes it was’ Cillian laughed before kissing you again.

‘Will you stay the night? I don’t have a bed but I do have a comfortable mattress…’ you said suggestively, but Cillian was reluctant.

‘I probably shouldn’t’ Cillian responded.

‘Well, I suppose Amanda is waiting for you’ you said sheepishly, knowing that they were still living together for now, sleeping in separate bedrooms.

‘Funny’ Cillian said before putting on his jacket. ‘I see you tomorrow at the theatre?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod and steal a final kiss from him, knowing that it would be the last.

Despite Cillian’s absence that night, you slept well and deep following your intense orgasm. You were satisfied and Cillian visited you again your dreams.

The next morning however, you were woken by a loud banging on the door.

‘Open up’ Kurt yelled out and, after you rolled off your mattress, you let him inside.

‘Who told you that you could take my fucking desk, eh?’ Kurt asked angrily, causing you to laugh sheepishly.

‘Your personal assistant Linda’ you said with a smirk on your face and it was in that moment that Kurt observed the items scattered across the desk, including an empty condom wrapper and a watch which clearly didn’t belong to you or him.

‘You are such a whore you know that?’ Kurt said as he picked up the wrapper and held it up in front of your face.

‘I am a whore?’ you laughed. ‘If I recall correctly, you were the one who fucked not just only your assistant but also the girl from the corner store. But I am a whore?’ you said in disbelieve.

‘I want my fucking desk back. Get it delivered to my office today’ Kurt instructed before you showed him the way out.

‘Also, your lover has shit taste. I suppose he can’t afford a Rolex?’ Kurt chuckled.

‘Just fuck off please’ you said as you slammed the door into his face.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

440 notes · View notes

penguins-united · 2 years ago

Text

Books read in 2022!!

rereads are italicized, favorites are bolded

1. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by JK Rowling

2. Boxers by Gene Luen Yang

3. Saints by Gene Luen Yang

4. The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett

5. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie

6. Immortal Poems of the English Language by Oscar Williams

7. Soldier’s Home by Ernest Hemingway

8. Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo

9. Harry Potter and the order of the phoenix by JK Rowling

10. The Dead by James Joyce

11. Soldiers Three by Richard Kipling

12. The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben

13. Richard iii by William Shakespeare

14. Balcony of Fog by Rich Shapiro

15. All Systems Red by Martha Wells

16. Artificial Condition by Martha Wells

17. I have no mouth and I must scream by Harlan Ellison

18. Siege and Storm by Leigh Bardugo

19. The moment before the gun went off by Nadine Gordimer

20. The importance of being earnest by Oscar Wilde

21. A farewell to arms by Ernest Hemingway

22. Rogue Protocol by Martha Wells

23. Rules for a knight by Ethan Hawke

24. Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince by JK Rowling

25. The Secret History by Donna Tartt

26. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling

27. Gerard Manley Hopkins: The Major Poems by Gerard Manley Hopkins

28. Highly Irregular by Arika Okrent

29. The Green Mile by Stephen King

30. The Swan Riders by Erin Bow

31. The King’s English by Henry Watson Fowler

32. The Truelove by Patrick O’Brian

33. The Glass Key by Dashiell Hammett

34. The Wine-Dark Sea by Patrick O’Brian

35. The Commodore by Patrick O’Brian

36. An Old-Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott

37. Long Day’s Journey Into Night by Eugene O’Neill

38. The Disaster Area by JG Ballard

39. The Tacit Dimension by Michael Polanyi

40. Wicked Saints by Emily A Duncan

41. The Pillowman by Martin McDonagh

42. The Thief by Megan Whalen Turner

43. The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt

44. The Queen of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner

45. Exit Strategy by Martha Wells

46. The King of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner

47. A Conspiracy of Kings by Megan Whalen Turner

48. Thick as Thieves by Megan Whalen Turner

49. Return of the Thief by Megan Whalen Turner

50. Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut

51. Confessions of St. Augustine by St. Augustine of Hippo

52. Little Lord Fauntleroy by Frances Hodgson Burnett

53. The Yellow Admiral by Patrick O’Brian

54. Bad Pharma by Ben Goldacre

55. The Russian Assassin by Jack Arbor

56. The ones who walk away from Omelas by Ursula K LeGuin

57. Captains Courageous by Rudyard Kipling

58. The Iliad by Homer

59. The Treadstone Transgression by Joshua Hood

60. The Hundred Days by Patrick O’Brian

61. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead by Tom Stoppard

62. The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus

63. Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett

64. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the Pearl, and Sir Orfeo (unknown)

65. Persuasion by Jane Austen

66. The Outsiders by SE Hinton

67. Bartleby the Scrivener by Herman Melville

68. The Odyssey by Homer

69. Dead Cert by Dick Francis

70. The Oresteia by Aeschylus

71. The Network Effect by Martha Wells

72. All Art is Propaganda: Critical Essays by George Orwell

73. This is how you lose the time war by Amal El-Mohtar

74. The Epic of Gilgamesh (unknown author)

75. The Republic by Plato

76. Oedipus Rex by Sophocles

77. On the Genealogy of Morals by Friedrich Nietzsche

78. Ere the Cock Crows by Jens Bjornboe

79. Mid-Bloom by Katie Budris

80. Blue at the Mizzen by Patrick O’Brian

81. 21 by Patrick O’Brian

82. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

83. Battle Cry by Leon Uris

84. Devils by Fyodor Dostoevsky

85. The Uncanny by Sigmund Freud

86. The Door in the Wall by HG Wells

87. Oh Whistle and I’ll Come to You My Lad by MR James

88. The Birds and Don’t Look Now by Daphne Du Maurier

89. The Weird and the Eerie by Mark Fisher

90. Blackout by Simon Scarrow

91. In Cold Blood by Truman Capote

92. No Exit and Three Other Plays by Jean-Paul Sartre

93. The Open Society and its Enemies volume one by Karl Popper

94. Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut

95. The Ethics of Ambiguity by Simone de Beauvoir

96. The Cue for Treason by Geoffrey Trease

97. The things they carried by Tim O’Brien

98. A very very very dark matter by Martin McDonagh

99. The Road to Serfdom by Friedrich A Hayek

100. The Lonesome West by Martin McDonagh

101. A Skull in Connemara by Martin McDonagh

102. The Beauty Queen of Leenane by Martin McDonagh

103. Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche

104. The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene

105. The Shepherd by Frederick Forsyth

106. Things have gotten worse since we last spoke and other misfortunes by Eric LaRocca

107. Each thing I show you is a piece of my death by Gemma Files

108. Different Seasons by Stephen King

109. Dracula by Bram Stoker

110. Inker and Crown by Megan O’Russell

111. Out of the Silent Planet by CS Lewis

112. Killers by Patrick Hodges

113. The Game of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett

114. The Rise and Reign of Mammals by Stephen Brusatte

115. Any Means Necessary by Jack Mars

116. The Birth of Tragedy by Friedrich Nietzsche

117. In A Glass Darkly by J Sheridan le Fanu

118. Collected Poems by Edward Thomas

119. The Longer Poems by TS Eliot

120. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

121. The Elegant Universe by Brian Greene

122. The Antichrist by Friedrich Nietzsche

123. Choice of George Herbert’s verse by George Herbert

5 notes · View notes

angelhummel · 3 years ago

Note

Unpopular opinion: there’s no point people criticizing Blaine’s other ships like Seblaine, or Blam in particular by saying there was no romantic interest or chemistry there. Yes there was. In both ships, at least one of the couple had a crush on the other. Blaine would have been with either Sebastian or Sam If the circumstances were right, or if he had not loved Kurt as much as he did.

Some people who criticize Blaine ships as never likely to happen, then think Kelliott was a likely ship, when both Kurt and Elliott made it clear they had no romantic interest in each other at all.

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

I meeean honestly in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter a single bit. People will ship who and what they want and that's that. Whether or not they have chemistry, whether or not they were just friends, whether or not they were ever even pictured together on screen or aware of one another's presence lmao

But also... arguing about what would've happened if Blaine didn't love Kurt as much as he did is pointless bc in canon, Klaine is always going to choose one another. There's no way he could've gone with either of those other boys while Kurt was still around

Also tbh I don't think Blaine ever could've ended up with Sebastian regardless 😬 We know all their texts are G rated about wine stains and set lists lol. And with all their interactions in real life, Sebastian is a horny pushy weirdo and Blaine strikes me as too polite (and maybe too naive) to tell him to back off

I mean the only time I could see Blaine going for Sebastian in canon is if he was at his lowest point and needed some quick and easy attention (emotionally but he’d settle for mainly physical) and they had a one night stand that he immediately regretted. Oh but we saw Blaine do that in canon and he didn’t go after Sebastian for it lol. So... nah, nope, couldn’t ever see it happening in canon

As for Blam I really don’t give a shit. No one cares about “Sam was straight” “they were just friends” canon isn’t real and people can make up whatever they want. Same with Kelliott being “just friends” like these people aren’t real it doesn’t matter. They’re just your little Barbie dolls to play with, babe

And idk if this is even related but I also hate people who act like they’re morally superior for multi shipping, or for liking Blaine ships more than Kurt ships. Like some people legitimately seem to have a victim complex over people liking Kelliott over Blam, saying that it’s just Kurt stans who want Kurt to get all the attention but couldn’t let Blaine be happy with anyone else ??? So that’s a whole thing

But also in closing I think people get too hung up on what ship would be more “likely” and that’s not why I ship what I ship. I don’t hate Seblaine because it’s highly unlikely (even tho it is) I hate it bc Sebastian fucking sucks as a character lol. I like the idea of a little Blam on the side but I dislike it more and more because of how people put it on a pedestal these days. The debate is exhausting and the more people talk about it (or Hevans) the less interested I become. It doesn’t matter which would be more compatible with canon, they still can’t hold a candle to Klaine. That’s why I’m not a super fan 🤖

send me your unpopular opinions!

#glee #klaine #blaine anderson #unpopular opinions #asks #answered #my thoughts #anonymous #anti seblaine #lol seblaine #anti blam #lol blam #anti hevans #lol hevans #oh also a one sided crush doesnt equal romantic chemistry imo #fandom wank #anti sebastian smythe #lol sebastian smythe

4 notes · View notes

toysfordommen · 4 years ago

Text

Open to Dom top older males. Relationship-Sebastian Smythe’s father.

What a difference a few years made. Robbed of NYADA, plan B had worked out well for him. Year one saw a independent film he had written become a critical fave. Year two saw what he thought of as a modest little novel become a best seller. Year three and he walked off with two movies in which he played supporting roles. Life was looking good. He had a house in Los Felix, a deal with MGM to write and produce a movie, including casting approval (sorry not sorry Rachel, don’t even ask) and a contract for a second novel. The only fly in the ointment was a fund raiser he had agreed to attend at which he now found out the Sebastian Smythe’s father was the guest of honor at. It seemed the elder Smythe was ambitious for the national stage, no longer content with being Ohio’s Attorney General. Oh well. Kurt no longer held a grudge. He had found he was much better off without Blaine and he was rather curious to see what the meek rats father was like. Grabbing a glass of wine at the California casual cocktail party, he waited to be introduced to the man.

#glee rp #non binary Kurt #Kurt has a vagina

17 notes · View notes

byebyeblainey · 4 years ago

Text

A Pinch of Salt (1 & 2/14) Pasta al Limone & Sex on the Beach

Pairing: Klaine (Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel)

Summary: Blaine Anderson is the head chef for an up and coming restaurant, managed by former Broadway failure Rachel Berry. Kurt Hummel is an anonymous food critic whose reviews walk the line between detailed to perfection, and downright cruel (according to his victims). They meet one night in a flurry of passion and heat.

But what Blaine doesn’t know is that Kurt is the critic who gave his restaurant an ego-crushing review not one week before they met.

Authors Note: i’m like shaking as i’m posting this right now lmao NEW MULTICHAPTER FIC! This fic is fully complete and I will be updating every other day (or every day if i’m feeling particularly spicy)

i would really appreciate it if you gave this fic some love! it was so much fun to write and it feels really special to me <3

big big BIG BIG BIG thank you to nery (@little-escapist) and aly (@blurglesmurfklaine) for helping me and being such wonderful cheerleaders <3

the art of kurt and blaine was drawn by @dee-who (and i LOVE IT SO MUCH THEY LOOK SO CUTE) and the cover and text was edited by me!

What Happens When Broadway Babies Fail - ** Stella d’Oro | Italian-Fusion | $$$ | 492 Hudson Street | 212-444-0291 By Pavarotti, New York Times 18th March 2025.

The year was 2015. ‘Babs! The Barbra Streisand Musical’ had just opened at the Lunt-Fontanne on Broadway, starring Rachel Berry in the title role as Barbra Streisand. The buzz around the show was unmistakable. Unfortunately for the entire cast, Babs closed after just 32 performances, leaving hundreds wondering… what happened to Rachel Berry? Well folks, we have finally gotten an answer.

After the crash and burn of Babs, Berry ventured into restauranteering with her Italian-Fusion restaurant Stella d’Oro on Hudson. The restaurant boasts a sizeable menu and wine list that at first glance, leaves customers and critics alike intrigued, wondering just what a ‘truffle and duck egg tiramisu’ tastes like. Well, let me be one of the first to tell you.

The atmosphere is passable, only offset by the restaurant’s enthusiastic -- and at times overbearing -- manager, Berry herself, whose constant hustle and bustle around the restaurant is enough to induce vertigo. The decor is fancy, reeking of pretension and forced minimalism. But that is not why you clicked on this article.

The food.

The restaurant’s head chef, Blaine Anderson (of Anderson and Son’s Realty fame) got his start in the fine dining circuit with his short stint at Hearth on Lexington Street, where he played the dutiful sous chef to Quinn Fabray’s chef de cuisine. But only three months after his initial hiring, Berry poached him from Hearth to star as the head chef at Stella d’Oro, where he has remained ever since.

read chapters 1 and 2 on ao3!

#kurt hummel #blaine anderson #klaine #klaine fic #glee #klaine au #brit writes #WHY AM I SHAKING RN

58 notes · View notes

greatworldwar2 · 4 years ago

Text

• Hugo Sperrle

Hugo Sperrle was a German military aviator in World War I and a Generalfeldmarschall in the Luftwaffe during World War II.

Sperrle was born in the town of Ludwigsburg, in the Kingdom of Württemberg, German Empire on February 7th, 1885 the son of a brewery proprietor, Johannes Sperrle and his wife Luise Karoline, née Nägele. He joined the Imperial German Army on July 5th, 1903 as a Fahnenjunker (officer cadet). Sperrle was assigned to the 8th Württemberg Infantry Regiment, a regiment in the Army of Württemberg, and after a year received his commission and promotion to Leutnant on October 28th, 1912. At the outbreak of World War I, Sperrle was training as an artillery spotter in the Luftstreitkräfte (German Army Air Service). On November 28th, 1914 Sperrle was promoted to Hauptmann. Sperrle did not distinguish himself in battle as his fellow staff officers in World War II had done, but he forged a solid record in the aerial reconnaissance field. Sperrle served first as an observer, then trained as a pilot with the 4th Field Flying Detachment (Feldfliegerabteilung) at the Kriegsakademie (War Academy). Sperrle went on to command the 42nd and 60th Field Flying Detachments, then led the 13th Field Flying Group. After suffering severe injuries in a crash, Sperrle moved to the air observer school at Cologne thereafter and when the war ended he was in command of flying units attached to the 7th Army.

After the war Sperrle joined the Freikorps and commanded an aviation detachment. He then joined the Reichswehr. Sperrle commanded units in Silesia including the Freiwilligen Fliegerabteilungen 412 under the leadership of Erhard Milch. Sperrle fought on the East Prussia border during the 1919 conflict with Poland. On December 1st, 1919, commander-in-chief of the German army, Hans von Seeckt issued a directive for the creation of 57 committees, encompassing all the military branches, to compile detailed studies of German war experiences. Helmuth Wilberg led the air service sector and Sperrle was one of 83 commanders ordered to assist. The air staff studies were conducted through 1920. Sperrle served on the air staff for Wehrkreis V in Stuttgart from 1919 to 1923, then the Defence Ministry until 1924. Sperrle then served on the staff of the 4th Infantry Division near Dresden. Sperrle travelled to Lipetsk in the Soviet Union at this time, where the Germans maintained a secret air base and founded the Lipetsk fighter-pilot school. Sperrle purportedly visited the United Kingdom to observe Royal Air Force exercises. In 1927 Sperrle, at the rank of Major, replaced Wilberg as head of the air staff at the Waffenamt an Truppenamt (Weapons and Troop Office). Sperrle was selected for his expertise in technical matters; he was seen as highly qualified staff officer with combat experience in commanding the flying units of the 7th army during the war. Sperrle was promoted to Oberstleutnant (lieutenant colonel) in 1931 while commanding the 3rd battalion, 14th Infantry Regiment from 1929 to 1933. Sperrle ended his army career in command of the 8th Infantry Regiment, from October 1st, 1933 to April 1st, 1934. At the rank of Oberst (colonel), Sperrle was given command of the headquarters of the First Air Division (Fliegerdivision 1). Sperrle was given responsibility for coordinating army support aviation.

After Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party seized power, Hermann Göring created and Reich Air Ministry. Göring handed most of the squadrons in existence to Sperrle because of his command experiences. Sperrle was involved in the difficulties in German aircraft procurement. Four months after assuming command, Sperrle was rigorously critical of the Dornier Do 11 and Dornier Do 13 in a conference on July 18th, 1934. Five months later, with development failing, Sperrle met with Wolfram Freiherr von Richthofen, head of aircraft development and Luftkreis IV commander Alfred Keller, a wartime bomber pilot. It was decided Junkers Ju 52 production would be a stopgap, while the Dornier Do 23 reached units in the late summer, 1935. The awaited Junkers Ju 86 was scheduled for testing in November 1934 and the promising Heinkel He 111 in February 1935. On March 1st, 1935, Hermann Göring announced the existence of the Luftwaffe. Sperrle was transferred to the Reich Air Ministry. Sperrle was initially given command of Luftkreis II (Air District II), and then Luftkreis V in Münich upon his promotion to Generalmajor (Brigadier General) in October 1935. Sperrle remained in Germany until the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War. He commanded all German forces in Spain from November 1936 to November 1937. Sperrle was the first commander of the Condor Legion during the Spanish Civil War. Sperrle left Germany by air on October 31st, 1936 and arrived in Seville, via Rome on November 5th. Sperrle was sent a Kampfgruppe (bomber group—K/88), Jagdgruppe 88 (fighter group 88—J/88) and Aufklärungsstaffel (reconnaissance squadron—AS/88). They were supported by a Flak Abteilung (F/88) with three heavy and two light batteries with communications, transport and maintenance units. The Germans could not afford to fully equip the Legion, and so the air group made use of Spanish equipment. Of the 1,500 vehicles used, there were 100 types creating a maintenance nightmare.

After his experience leading the Condor Legion Sperrle was given command of Luftwaffe Group 3 on the February 1st, 1938 which eventually became Luftflotte 3 (Air Fleet 3) in February 1939. Sperrle commanded the air fleet for the remainder of his military career. Sperrle was used by Hitler in his foreign policy to intimidate small neighbours with the Luftwaffe, which had earned a reputation in Spain. On February 12th, 1938, Hitler invited Sperrle to a meeting at Berchtesgaden with Kurt Schuschnigg, chancellor of the Federal State of Austria. The meetings eventually helped pave the way for Anschluss, the Nazi seizure of Austria. In March 1939 Hitler decided to annex Czechoslovakia completely and risk war. He turned once again to the Luftwaffe to assist him achieving diplomatic results. The threat of aerial bombardment proved a crucial in forcing smaller nations to submit to German occupation. The successes confirmed Hitler's view that air power could be used politically, as a "terror weapon". Sperrle was asked by Hitler to talk about the Luftwaffe, to intimidate the Czech president. Hácha purportedly fainted, and when he regained consciousness, Göring screamed at him, "think of Prague!" The elderly President reluctantly ordered the Czechoslovakian Army not to resist. The aerial part of the German occupation of Czechoslovakia was carried out by 500–650 aircraft belonging to Sperrle's newly renamed air fleet, Luftflotte 3.

On September 1st, 1939, the Wehrmacht invaded Poland prompting the British Empire and France to declare war in her defence. Sperrle's Luftflotte 3 remained guarding German air space in western Germany and did not contribute to the German invasion, made possible by the non-aggression pact with the Soviet Union. The air fleet's Order of battle had been stripped of almost all of the combat units it held in March 1939. Only two reconnaissance staffel (squadrons) and a single bomber unit attached to Wekusta 51 remained. Sperrle received the competent Major General Maximilian Ritter von Pohl as his chief of staff. The two men made for a "good partnership". Sperrle was also assigned Major General Walter Surén, appointed as the air fleet's chief signals officer. Surén planned and organised the German field communications for the offensive in 1940. While guarding the Western Front during the Phoney War, Sperrle's small fleet of 306 aircraft which included 33 obsolete Arado Ar 68s fought off probing attacks of French and British aircraft. Sperrle developed a reputation as gourmet, whose private transport aircraft featured a refrigerator to keep his wines cool, and although as corpulent as Göring, he was reliable and as ruthless as his superior. Sperrle wanted his air fleet to take a more aggressive stance and won over Göring. On September 13th, 1939 he was authorised to undertake long-range high altitude reconnaissance missions at extreme altitudes. Photographic operations over France authorised by the OKL began on September 21st, which the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht did not sanction until four days later.

Luftflotte 3 was heavily reinforced in the spring, 1940. Sperrle's headquarters was based at Bad Orb. The air fleet was assigned I. Flakkorps under Generaloberst Hubert Weise, I. Fliegerkorps under Generaloberst Ulrich Grauert at Cologne, the II. Fliegerkorps under Generaloberst Bruno Loerzer at Frankfurt, and V. Fliegerkorps under command of General Robert Ritter von Greim at Gersthofen. For the coming battle, Sperrle had 1,788 aircraft (1,272 operational) at his disposal. Opposing Sperrle, was the Armée de l'Air (French Air Force) eastern (ZOAE) and southern (ZOAS) zones under Général de Corps d'armée Aérien René Bouscat and Robert Odic. Bouscat had 509 aircraft (363 operational) and Odic 165 (109 combat ready). Fall Gelb began on May 10th,1940. Sperrle's air fleet engaged in operations supporting Generalfeldmarschall Gerd von Rundstedt and Army Group A in the Battle of Belgium and Battle of France, as well as Army Group C. Sperrle's counter-air campaign started badly, reflecting poor photographic interpretation of targets, though he later claimed Luftflotte 3's operations were decisive in achieving air superiority. Sperrle's men claimed 240 to 490 aircraft destroyed, mostly "in hangars"—Allied losses were actually 40 first-line aircraft. Failing to neutralise Allied fighter units cost Sperrle 39 aircraft. Sperrle's air corps commanders targeted air interdiction operations and ordered, attacks on rail communications to prevent the westward deployment of the French Army from the Maginot Line and to pin down Allied reserves by disrupting communications across the Meuse. 26 French rail stations were bombed as were 86 localities from May 10th to 12th. During the breakthrough to the English Channel, rail networks were attacked to prevent Allied forces rallying. Sperrle and Kesselring objected to the halt order during the Battle of Dunkirk. Neither man believed the pocket could be reduced by air power alone. Gelb was complete, and the OKL prepared for Case Red. The Luftflotten were reorganised; Sperrle retained II. and V. Fliegerkorps along with I. Flakkorps. The flak corps was reorganised into two brigades, with four regiments each with the firepower of 72 batteries. Sperrle was required to strike far deeper into France, and was given the majority of Zerstörer (destroyer aircraft) equipped with Messerschmitt Bf 110.

In a prelude to the offensive, Sperrle planned to carry out strategic bombing operations against Paris. Sperrle had long-planned for air attacks on Paris using II., V. and VIII. Fliegerkorps in May. He was forced to abandon the plan on May 22nd because of weather, but the following day, the OKL prepared a plan for Operation Paula. The plan was to attack the estimated 1,000 French aircraft detected on Parisian airfields, but also to attack factories and destroy the morale of the French people. The operation was undone by poor staff work and excessive confidence in the Enigma machine. On June 5th Sperrle's forces flew eight bombing operations against railways and localities, 21 to 31 against road targets, 12 against troop columns and 34 to 42 against French Army defences or strongpoints. Sperrle was ordered to support Rundstedt advancing southward, with orders to encircle the Maginot Line, from the west. The campaign played out for a further five days, which came as Luftwaffe logistics were breaking down, fuel and ammunition shortages were acute and relied on air transportation. Sperrle attempted to prevent the British Operation Ariel a second evacuation but the only success was the sinking of Lancastria, with 5,800 lives lost. On June 20th arrangements were made for the Armistice of June 22nd, 1940. Upon learning of it, Sperrle ordered the abandonment of a planned bombing operation against Bordeaux. In July 1940 Winston Churchill's government rejected peace overtures from Hitler. Hitler resolved to knock Britain out of the war. The OKL began tentative planning for Operation Eagle Attack to destroy RAF Fighter Command to gain air superiority, before supporting an amphibious landing in Britain, codenamed, Operation Sea Lion.

Sperrle thought the RAF could be defeated en passant. His personal strategy to attack ports and merchant shipping was overruled by Göring, ostensibly because the ports would be required for the invasion. Kesselring's contemporary notes indicate he thought air superiority could only be attained for a short time, since most airfields and factories in Britain were out of range. Sperrle and Kesselring miscalculated, or were misled by intelligence, into underestimating the number of fighter aircraft available to Fighter Command. They put the RAF total at 450 aircraft when the real figure was 750. Chronic intelligence failures on British production, defence systems and aircraft performance inhibited the German air operation throughout the battle. The Luftwaffe regrouped after the Battle of France into three Luftflotten (Air Fleets) . Sperrle's first task against the British Isles was during the Kanalkampf (Channel Battle) phase of what became known as the Battle of Britain. The aim was to draw out Fighter Command into dogfights by attacking Channel Shipping. Targeting British convoy systems, in July 1940 Sperrle's air fleet claimed 90 vessels sunk for approximately 300,000 tons, a third of this was claimed over August and September. Two days before Operation Eagle scheduled for August 13th he had lost two Gruppenkommandeur and a Staffelkapitän. Sperrle knew he could not afford to lose experienced officers at such a rate. The emphasis of German air attacks switched to bombing Fighter Command bases and its infrastructure. On August 13th, 1940, Sperrle's air fleet played a role in the failed Unternehmen Adlerangriff ("Operation Eagle Attack"). On the August 14th, Sperrle began a smaller, prolonged, but widely scattered series of attacks on aerodromes and other targets in the western half of England. The attacks were not very effective and earned the Luftflotte a rebuke from Göring. At the beginning of September 1940, Sperrle could muster 350 serviceable bombers and dive-bombers and about 100 fighters, either for his own purposes or to support the 9th Army and, if necessary, the 6th Army in a landing. Sperrle lost Richthofen to Kesselring who took possession of some units in Normandy, and concentrated the available dive-bomber force near the Straits of Dover.

The bombing operations continued against Fighter Command into October 1940, but with gradually more emphasis placed on attacking industrial cities, primarily because it offered the only way to continue hostilities against Britain directly in the absence of invasion. The preference for night over day operations was evident in the number of bombing operations flown by the German air fleets. Sperrle had spent the last week of August and first week of September gearing up for large–scale night operations. Sperrle's air fleet assisted in the beginning of The Blitz which began in earnest on September 7th, 1940. This night approximately 250 aircraft dropped 300 tons of high explosive and 13,000 incendiaries on the centre of London. Sperrle's airmen flew 4,525 bombing operations in November 1940. In December 1940 Sperrle's air groups flew 2,750 bombing operations against British cities. In February 1941 bad weather limited Sperrle to 975 bombing operations. During the month of May Sperrle's men carried out the burden of night operations, flying 2,500 sorties. Approximately 40,000 British civilians had been killed, another 46,000 injured, and more than a million houses damaged during the Blitz. The German air fleets lost 600 German aircraft on night operations. In five months of bombing docks and ports in 1941, only some 70,000 tons of food stocks were destroyed, and only one half a percent of oil stocks. Damage to communications was quickly repaired. Everywhere except in the aircraft industry the loss was too small a fraction of total output to matter seriously. In early June 1941, the majority of German bomber units moved eastward to the soon-to-be Eastern Front, in preparation for Operation Barbarossa.

Sperrle had been involved in the war at sea since the first phase of the Battle of Britain. He received an OKL directive on October 20th, 1940 ordering him to attack shipping once again in the Thames Estuary. He ordered his dive-bombers into this service, but they were rapidly neutralised in November by a "dynamic defence". The most effective support for the U-boat campaign came from attacking ports in 1941. Direct support to the Kriegsmarine in the Battle of the Atlantic was haphazard; successes were won by accident rather than by design. The Atlantic command came under Sperrle's control upon formation but was subordinated to Sperrle officially on April 7th, 1942. The name of the command was misleading, for it was tasked with maritime interdiction operations all around the British coast besides operating deep into the Atlantic. In the 46 months following July 1940, German aircraft sank 1,228, 104 tons of merchant shipping and damaged 1,953, 862 tons. Another 60, 866 tons were sunk or damaged by mines in 1942 and 1943. The failure to properly cooperate with the navy against shipping was a grave strategic error which prevented the achievement of greater results. For a brief period in March 1943 before the German defeat in Black May Sperrle intended to increase his command to 22 groups for Atlantic operations. From the Allied perspective, the Atlantic campaign became nothing more than a "skirmish" by the autumn, 1943.

In 1942 another threat emerged when the United States Army Air Force (USAAF) began bombing raids against targets in Belgium and France. Sperrle's fighter pilots carried the burden of the defence in 1942. Later that year, JG 1 was assigned to Luftwaffenbefehlshaber Mitte, later known as Luftflotte Reich (Air Fleet Reich) but saw little action since USAAF rarely crossed into the Netherlands. Thereafter, the air war only escalated. Sperrle resisted attempts by Luftwaffenbefehlshaber Mitte to gain control of anti-aircraft forces or to allow the physical degradation of his air fleet, and the offensive mindedness of the OKL favoured front-line units. In March 1943, an immediate rise in losses had already been noted. A report from Luftflotte 3 recognised the size and defensive power of American bombers required a timely interception by massed formations for any chance of success. In July alone, western fighter forces lost 335 single-engine aircraft to all causes. On the German side, there was a call to unify German fighter forces and hold them back from coastal and keep them out of Allied fighter escort range. Regardless of the logic, Sperrle opposed the idea to preserve his command. Sperrle was sensitive to a centralise command for fighter forces and resisted. On September 15th, 1943 an effort to improve Sperrle's organisation was made by creating II. Jagdkorps with the 5th and 4. Jagd Division. The improvement in command and control made little difference in the battle with the USAAF for neither division received the reinforcements it needed. At the end of 1943, the German air defences won temporary successes against the USAAF Eighth Air Force. In February 1944, Big Week targeted German and French–based targets. The German fighter force was bled white over the following two months. In the lead up to June 1944, Luftflotte 3 remained weak, and contained few ground-attack aircraft; nearly all were based on the Eastern Front. Sperrle's fighter pilots were required to attack the landing forces.

A major effect of the combined offensive on Sperrle's air fleet was the diversion and reinforcement of Luftflotte Reich at the expense of Luftflotte 3. By June 1944, the number of fighter aircraft available in the west numbered just 170. Sperrle's air fleet had, at most, 300 fighter aircraft on June 6th, 1944 to contest the D-day landings. The Western Allies amassed 12,837, including 5,400 fighters. Sperrle's air fleet was particularly weak in night fighter units. Given the low priority for their production, Sperrle went for periods with no night–fighting capabilities despite the crucial geographical position of his air fleet and the exposure of important French industries to night attack. Sperrle's air fleet was reinforced on Göring's orders for the purpose of bombing London. The offensive was named Operation Steinbock and began in January 1944. British defences had improved dramatically since 1941 and were fully prepared to repel the attacks. The offensive wasted the last German bomber reserves. The losses were a blow to Sperrle. Sperrle's air fleet Enigma signals had been cracked and ULTRA codebreakers from Bletchley Park deciphered signals sent by Luftflotte 3 headquarters to the OKW. Reading the reports, Allied intelligence deduced that the bombing operations against bridges, west of the Seine, and fighter activity between Mantes and Le Mans, had convinced the air fleet staff the invasion would take place in the Pas de Calais. Allied attacks in May 1944 against bases had a devastating impact on Luftflotte 3 capabilities. ULTRA gave the Allies intelligence on the location and strength of German fighter units as well as the effectiveness of attacks. Further damage was done to Sperrle's air defence network. Some 300,000 personnel worked in Luftflotte 3, 56,000 in signals. The fortification of radar sites after Dieppe had only highlighted them, and 76 of the 92 were knocked out by D-Day. The Allies enjoyed complete air superiority on June 6th, 1944 and flew 14,000 missions in support of the invasion. On the first day, the British and Commonwealth landed 75,215 men and the Americans 57,500. A large force of 23,000 paratroops parachuted in during the night. Luftflotte 3 barely reacted.

Sperrle was dismissed from his post on August 23rd, 1944, hours before American and French forces liberated Paris and overran his headquarters. As the German front collapsed in the aftermath of the Falaise pocket, the air fleet ground organisation uprooted and fled east across the Seine. Hitler charged the personnel of the 3rd air fleet with desertion and held Sperrle responsible. On September 22nd,1944 his former command was downgraded from air fleet to air command status. By the time of his dismissal, Sperrle had purportedly long since lost faith in the German war effort and in Hitler and Göring's military leadership. He had become lazy and had a tendency to indulge in the trappings and luxury lifestyle occupied France offered. During the war Hitler had occasionally gifted Sperrle artwork that may have been looted from occupied territories. Analysts of Sperrle's performance have been critical of his perceived inaction in Normandy and point to critical contemporary army reports on the failures of his command. Others have questioned Sperrle's influence on the conduct of operations and suggested he was a convenient scapegoat for Göring. Sperrle remained embittered after the defeat in France. He was deemed unfit for a senior command and spent the rest of the war in the Führerreserve. On May 1st, 1945, Sperrle was arrested by the British Army and became a prisoner of war. Sperrle was captured by the Allies and charged with war crimes in the High Command Trial at the Subsequent Nuremberg Trials but was acquitted. The court concluded that Sperrle had never been a member of the Nazi Party nor one of its affiliate organizations. After the war, he lived quietly and died in Munich on April 2nd, 1953 at the age of 68.

#second world war #world war ii #world war 2 #military history #wwii #history #german history #luftwaffe #long post #biography #aviation #battle of normandy #battle of britain

37 notes · View notes

newstfionline · 4 years ago

Text

Headlines

A wobble lessened Laura’s devastation (AP) Hurricane Laura was a monster storm that could have, even should have, wreaked much more destruction than it did, except for a few lucky breaks and some smart thinking by Gulf Coast residents, experts say. Just before striking Louisiana, Laura wobbled. It wasn’t much, maybe 15 miles (24 kilometers) for a Category 4 storm that was nearly the width of two states. But it was enough to move the worst of the storm surge east of Lake Charles and into a far less populated area. And even before that, Laura threaded a needle between well-populated New Orleans, Port Arthur and Houston and came ashore in Cameron Parish, which is the second least-populated county along the coast. The population of the average Atlantic and Gulf Coast county is 322,000 people. Cameron Parish has less than 7,000. The storm was still devastating, but not quite as catastrophic as it might have been.

Hurricane Laura cleanup starts (AP) The angry storm surge has receded and the clean up has begun from Hurricane Laura, but officials along this shattered stretch of Louisiana coast are warning returning residents they will face weeks without power or water amid the hot, stifling days of late summer. The U.S. toll from the Category 4 hurricane stood at 14 deaths, with more than half of those killed by carbon monoxide poisoning from the unsafe operation of generators. Across southwestern Louisiana, people were cleaning up from the destructive hurricane that roared ashore early Thursday, packing 150-mph (240-kph) winds. Many were deciding whether they wanted to stay in miserable conditions or wait until basic services are finally restored. Simply driving was a feat in Lake Charles, a city of 80,000 residents hit head on by the hurricane’s eye. Power lines and trees blocked paths or created one-lane roads that drivers had to navigate with oncoming traffic. Street signs were snapped off their posts or dangling. No stoplights worked, making it an exercise in trust with other motorists sharing the roads.

Weather slows California wildfires; thousands allowed home (AP) California wildfires were slowly being corralled Friday as cooler, humid weather and reinforcements aided firefighters and tens of thousands of people were allowed back home after days of death and destruction. In the past two days, evacuation orders were lifted for at least 50,000 people in the San Francisco Bay Area and wine country, officials with the state fire agency, Cal Fire, said. Around the state, hundreds of wildfires—coming months earlier in the season than expected—have killed at least seven people, burned more than 2,000 square miles (5,200 square kilometers) and pushed firefighter resources to the breaking point. Two are among the largest wildfires in recent state history.

1 killed as Trump supporters, protesters clash in Portland (AP) One person was shot and killed late Saturday in Portland, Oregon, as a large caravan of President Donald Trump supporters and Black Lives Matter protesters clashed in the streets, police said. It wasn’t clear if the shooting was linked to fights that broke out as a caravan of about 600 vehicles was confronted by protesters in the city’s downtown. An Associated Press freelance photographer heard three gunshots and then observed police medics working on the body of the victim, who appeared to be a white man. The freelancer said the man was wearing a hat bearing the insignia of Patriot Prayer, a right-wing group whose members have frequently clashed with protesters in Portland in the past.

Rival Themes Emerge as Race Enters Final Weeks: Covid vs. Law and Order (NYT) As a weeklong Republican offensive against Joseph R. Biden Jr. ends, the Democratic nominee plans to resume campaigning in swing states and has released a multimillion dollar barrage of ads attacking President Trump’s handling of the coronavirus. The moves come as the presidential campaign barrels into the critical last 10 weeks. They represent a bet by Mr. Biden that a focus on Covid-19 will prevail over Mr. Trump’s “law and order” emphasis and his attempt to portray Mr. Biden as a tool of the “radical left.” The question of which argument feels more urgent to the American people is likely to play a critical role in determining the outcome in November.

Dreading the School Year? Some Parents Are Taking It On The Road (Bloomberg) When the novel coronavirus began spreading across the globe early this year, Bridy and Kurt Oreshack were so concerned that they pulled their children out of school three days before it officially closed. Their anxiety quickly gave way to other emotions. “We thought, there’s never going to be an opportunity like this in our careers,” says Bridy, a wealth advisor in San Diego. She and her husband, an attorney, had hoped to someday spend a year traveling with their kids, who are now 5, 9, and 10. When Covid-19 disrupted schooling and made it not merely acceptable but desirable for the Oreshacks to work remotely, they decided to make the leap. Instead of attending their normal bilingual private school, the three Oreshack children will “roadschool” for the 2020-21 academic year, stringing together a series of road trips to national parks and the Pacific Northwest, with a stretch in Hawaii in the mix. “We’re only on Day 2 of homeschooling,” Oreshack says from her home in San Diego, where the family is temporarily recovering from summer explorations. “But so far, it’s been rad and wonderful.” Combining homeschooling and travel—an approach often known as “worldschooling”—isn’t new. But it has been a very rare phenomenon, limited to families willing to trade stability, structure, and conventional education for adventure. Now, “roadschooling” is emerging as a Covid-19-era alternative for Americans who are limited by border closures but not by commutes.

Coronavirus cases in some European countries are rising again, but with fewer deaths (Washington Post) Coronavirus cases are surging again in Europe after months of relative calm, but the second wave looks different from the first: Fewer people are dying, and the newest and mostly younger victims of the pandemic need less medical treatment. Unlike the initial hit of the pandemic this spring, which overwhelmed hospitals and turned nursing homes into grim mortuaries, the European resurgence of recent weeks has not forced as many people into medical wards. But the increase is widespread, and it is unsettling societies that had hoped the worst was behind them. Paris on Friday joined some other French jurisdictions in imposing a citywide mask requirement, with cases spiking. France, Germany, Spain and others posted caseloads in recent days that had not been seen since April and early May. Spain has been hit particularly hard, with per capita cases now worse than in the United States. And with almost every European country planning a return to in-person schooling, many starting next week, public health officials are holding their breath for the impact.

Riots in Sweden after Quran burning by far-right activists (AP) Far-right activists burned a Quran in the southern Swedish city of Malmo, sparking riots and unrest after more than 300 people gathered to protest, police said Saturday. Rioters set fires and threw objects at police and rescue services Friday night, slightly injuring several police officers and leading to the detention of about 15 people. The violence followed the burning Friday afternoon of a Quran, near a predominantly migrant neighborhood, that was carried out by far-right activists and filmed and posted online, according to the TT news agency.

Turkey to hold military exercise off Cyprus amid Mediterranean tensions (Reuters) Turkey said it will hold a military exercise off northwest Cyprus for the next two weeks, amid growing tension with Greece over disputed claims to exploration rights in the east Mediterranean. Both sides have held military exercises in the east Mediterranean, highlighting the potential for the dispute over the extent of their continental shelves to escalate into confrontation. Two weeks ago Greek and Turkish frigates shadowing Turkey’s Oruc Reis oil and gas survey vessel collided, and Turkey’s Defence Ministry said Turkish F-16 jets on Thursday prevented six Greek F-16s entering an area where Turkey was operating.

Russian city holds eighth anti-Kremlin protest (Reuters) Thousands of people took to the streets on Saturday in Russia’s far eastern city of Khabarovsk to protest against President Vladimir Putin’s handling of a regional political crisis and the suspected poisoning of his most vocal critic. “Putin, have some tea,” protesters chanted as they marched on the city’s main thoroughfare, in a reference to the case of opposition politician Alexei Navalny who fell gravely ill this month after drinking a cup of tea at an airport cafe. Residents of Khabarovsk, about 6,110 km (3,800 miles) east of Moscow, started holding weekly rallies after the July 9 detention of Sergei Furgal, the region’s popular governor, over murder charges he denies.

Surge in South Korea coronavirus cases sparks hospital bed shortage concerns (Reuters) South Korea recorded its 16th consecutive day of triple digit rises in new coronavirus cases on Saturday, extending a second wave of infections that is fanning concerns about a shortage of hospital beds in Seoul. The spike in cases has depleted hospital facilities, with the health ministry reporting that just 4.5% of beds in greater Seoul were available for critical cases as of Friday, down from 22% a week earlier.

Zimbabwe’s ‘keyboard warriors’ hold protests off the streets (AP) Unable to protest on the streets, some in Zimbabwe are calling themselves “keyboard warriors” as they take to graffiti and social media to pressure a government that promised reform but is now accused of gross human rights abuses. Activists use the hashtag #zimbabweanlivesmatter to encourage global pressure on President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s government. Tens of thousands of people, from Jamaican reggae stars to U.S. rap and hip-hop musicians, have joined African celebrities, politicians and former presidents in tweeting with the hashtag. But some analysts say online protests might not be enough to move Mnangagwa, who increasingly relies on security forces to crush dissent despite promising reforms when he took power after a coup in 2017. Tensions are rising anew in the once prosperous southern African country. Inflation is over 800%, amid acute shortages of water, electricity, gas and bank notes and a health system collapsing under the weight of drug shortages and strikes by nurses and doctors. Revelations of alleged corruption related to COVID-19 medical supplies led to the sacking of the health minister and further pressure on Mnangagwa. His government has responded to the rising dissent with arrests and alleged abductions and torture.

#headlines #news

2 notes · View notes

klaineccfanficlibrary · 2 years ago

Note

Any fics where blaine is always cranky, bad tempered but he is always nice to Kurt?

A Fine Line Between Us by MrsCriss2012

Kurt Hummel is a struggling actor hoping for his big break, while Blaine Anderson is a jaded, hard-headed theatre critic. It’s a fine line between love and hate.

~~~~~

Sotto Voce by GSJwrites

Wine critic Kurt Hummel can make or break careers with his column for Taste Magazine. But when his publisher orders him to spend a year profiling rising stars of California’s wine country and organizing a competition between the big name wineries of Napa and the smaller artisan wineries of Sonoma, his world gets turned upside-down by an enigmatic young winemaker who puts art before business.

~~~~~

Damaged Hearts Can Heal by MrsCriss2012

“As if in every lifetime that you and I have ever lived, we’ve chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again…” Blaine and Kurt meet in a Coffee Shop.

~~~~~

Fire With Fire by mmerainbows

Badboy!Blaine (S2/3 AU) William McKinley High School has its jocks, its geeks, its preps, and its skanks. It also has the one kid even the bullies stay out of the way for - Blaine Anderson. No one crosses him, and Kurt knows to keep out of his way and do what he wants, whether that’s supplying Blaine with a pencil for French class when it’s demanded of him, or just staying quiet.

~Lynne

#klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #fic finder #badboy!Blaine #grumpy!Blaine

26 notes · View notes

ranwing · 5 years ago

Text

KADAM FIC: LEARNING TO FLY (17/?)

Title: Learning to Fly Series: A New Direction (was Season Four Remix) Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Carmen Tibideaux, Cassandra July, Artie Abrams, Tina Cohen-Chang, Elliot “Starchild” Gilbert, Dani, Adam’s Apples, Original Characters Rating: PG13 (rating may change) Genre(s): canon divergence. Parts: 16/?

Summary: As another school year starts at NYADA, Kurt seemed to have it all. The respect of his teachers, a group of wonderful friends and best of all, getting to live with the man that he’d come to love. So of course the universe would throw a few curve balls in his direction.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen

One A03

Rachel felt herself grinning from ear to ear as they exited the theater and looked up at her date, who was happily babbling about they show they’d just seen.

“I’m not going to lie, but I was really dubious about the show. Especially when you said that there were puppets involved,” Neil insisted, keeping Rachel close with an arm about her shoulders. “I was picturing some kind of lame Sesame Street rip-off and a theater full of five-year olds.”

Rachel shook her head. “I thought that you trusted me,” she complained. “It did win the Tony while it was on Broadway.”

“Like that means anything to me,” Neil chided. “But it was hysterical! I couldn’t stop laughing the whole time.”

Rachel was very aware of that and pleased that she’d guessed correctly in choosing the best show to get Neil to dip his toe into the shallow end of the theater world. She’d put the gift from the NYADA alumni to very good use when she announced that this would be their date activity was a Friday evening performance of Avenue Q.

“Whoever wrote those songs is either insane or a total genius,” Neil insisted. “I am never going to get that song out of my head.

“The internet is for porn,” he sang with enthusiasm, albeit very off key. “Why you think the net was born? Porn, porn, porn…”

Rachel giggled, giving him a poke in the side with her elbow. A few people were looking over to stare at Neil’s terrible singing, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop since he seemed to be enjoying himself so much.

“And that scene with the puppets fucking… That’s an image that I’m not going to forget for quite while,” Neil complained playfully. “I’m sure that some parents had no idea what the show was about and had to hustle their kids out once in a while.”

“So, theater isn’t so boring, now?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye. Not that she ever thought that Neil would grow to love it in the way that she did, but she’d be very happy if it became something that they could share in some small way. It seemed that Avenue Q was pretty much the perfect show to take him to see.

Neil looked down at her, seeing the hope in her eyes and allowed himself to smile a little bit. “It wasn’t so bad,” he granted. “Shows like this, I think that I can get behind.”

She was glad that he had enjoyed it since she’d been so insistent on dragging him

He gave her shoulders a squeeze as they walked down the street. “Thanks for bringing me,” Neil insisted, giving her the smile that always caused her knees to weaken. “I really enjoyed it.”

She leaned in, enjoying the feel of his strong body next to hers. “I’m glad. And thank you for coming with me,” she said sincerely.

“Well, since you provided the entertainment, I’m taking you out for dinner,” he proposed, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Elliot said that there’s a really good Indian place just a few blocks from here.”

Rachel sighed happily, letting him guide her away from the New World Stages and allowing herself to just enjoy his company. This wasn’t like anything she had ever planned for her life. In her mind, her ideal partner should be a performer; someone that would be able to fully understand her passions and be a suitable companion on stage as well as life. That she was even entertaining the idea of fitting in a man who couldn’t carry a tune if it came in a bucket and who had nearly zero interest in theater wasn’t anything she could have anticipated.

But like most surprises, it was turning into an especially sweet one. And she was looking forward to seeing just where all this went.

* * *

“Does anyone have any idea what this is about?” Ifan asked as the entire cast of “Butcher’s Bill” walked out from the hotel into the breezy spring sunset.

Niall shrugged. “No clue,” he admitted, not bothering to hide that he was a bit apprehensive. “Has to be something important.”

Adam nodded in agreement, falling into step alongside his friend as they strolled towards the restaurant. They had gotten the call for a dinner meeting with the production team on their one day off, which could mean pretty much anything from an offer of congratulations for a good job or advising that they would all be out of a job by the time dessert was served. They just wouldn’t know what was going on until they were told.

At least they’d get a good meal out of the deal, he considered as they walked into the upscale Italian trattoria. While their pay was quite decent for a touring production of this type, pretty much everyone in the cast was trying to save as much as possible while on the road. They weren’t spending their money on lavish meals so eating in a place like this was not the norm for them. Admittedly, it would be a nice change from the fast food and take out that they’d all been existing on.

Despite the crowd of well-dressed men in suits and ladies in designer dresses waiting for tables, the group of less finely dressed actors were ushered right in to where a pair of large tables were set up for them, set out with fine linens and several bottles of wine and spring water. Adam couldn’t resist looking about, taking in the elegant décor and, despite wearing the best outfit he had in his limited wardrobe, feeling a bit out of place.

Their director was waiting for them with several other men that Adam didn’t recognize but assumed were other members of the production team. Malcom Jellicoe was there as well, looking quietly pleased about things. Adam mentally calculated that this probably boded well, but he’d reserve his opinion until they were told the reason for this gathering.

Mr. Keen smiled as his cast approached and he motioned to the tables. “Good evening everyone,” he greeted cheerfully. “Sit down and make yourselves comfortable. We’ve got dinner ordered and we’ll talk afterwards. Enjoy yourselves.”

Adam and Niall looked at one another and shrugged, deciding to just go along with things and wait to see what was in store. They sat down at one of the tables with some of the others in the cast and tried to ignore the little kernel of worry that refused to go away entirely and enjoy themselves.

In all, it ended up being a perfectly pleasant dinner, with multiple courses served by the friendly and efficient staff. The wine was pleasing and with no show that night, the entire cast was able to indulge a bit. Conversation flowed pleasantly, the entire group relaxing so they could enjoy themselves despite the uncertainty. Adam sipped at his glass of very pleasant Chianti, willing himself to loosen up and enjoy the evening despite any lingering anxiety over the reason behind their dinner meeting. The meal with delicious and topped off with coffee and a tray of pastries placed on the table.

Adam was debating which of the delectable looking desserts tempted him most when Mr. Keen tapped his spoon against his water glass to get their attention.

“All right, folks… I’m sure that by now you’re burning with curiosity about what this is all about,” he granted with a smile. “You can relax because it’s all for good things. Part of this is to celebrate our passing the halfway mark of our tour. You’ve all been doing spectacular work and both critical reviews and ticket sales have been well beyond what we’d hoped for. This is just a small offer our thanks for your effort and dedication.”

The cast gave a sigh of relief that things were going well and Naill reached over to pat Adam on the shoulder. It appears that they would be employed for a bit longer.

Mr. Keen nodded at that response, glad that he hadn’t unduly alarmed his dedicated performers. “Now I have some additional news for you. We’ve mentioned before the tour started about the possibility of a New York opening depending on how our tour is received. Our investors have been paying very close attention to our ticket sales and reviews. I’m happy to inform you that we’ve gotten very positive feedback and we’re now looking at an off-Broadway opening in the spring of next year. Some of the logistics are being worked out and our goal is to have all of our original cast here for that run. I certainly hope that you’ll keep your schedules open for us.”

Adam couldn’t help from grinning in happiness, and saw the expression mirrored on his friends. This was the best news that they could have expected. The prospect of more steady employment and a chance to perform in New York was everything that they could have hoped for.

Best of all, he would be back in New York, working and living with Kurt. He couldn’t have asked for anything more.

“I see that you’re pleased by the prospect,” Mr. Keen teased happily, gratified about their enthusiastic response. “Well, I have some additional good news for you. This winter, we have been invited to perform our play at the Duchess Theater on London’s West End for three weeks in honor of our Mr. Jellicoe being considered as a finalist for the Samuel Becket Theater award. His contributions to British theater are considerable and it is great honor for him to be considered.”

The members of the cast were taken aback and began to chatter excitedly over the prospect. Mr. Keen looked exceedingly pleased and smiled at his performers. “This is a immense tribute to not just our esteemed playwright, but all the hard work that you’ve done. I’ll be able to give you some more details about the exact dates later, but it’s a great joy to all of us that ‘Butcher’s Bill’ is being seen as a worthy project and will continue on.”

Several waiters appeared with bottles of Prosecco to celebrate and poured glasses of sparkling wine for the group. The members of the cast began to chatter excitedly, talking over what this all meant for them. Additional weeks of employment was not something they were going to frown about, and the opportunity to be seen by a greater audience could lead to future opportunities. It was the best news they could have received.

Adam’s mind raced as he considered the implications of this news. Barring the possibility of being run over by a truck, he couldn’t foresee any reason to prevent him from participating and he mentally calculated the scheduling. It would certainly set back any possible staging of his own play, but that was the very least of his concerns. He wasn’t anywhere near where he wanted to be on the rewrites and he knew that the odds for getting it staged in the upcoming season were more than likely not in his favor. He would probably stand a better chance once he was a bit more established as an actor and he had the time to give his play the focus that it deserved.

Staging the play in New York was the best news he could have received. It would save him the pressure of jumping back into the audition mill straight away and likely would open some additional doors for him. But London… that had come as a complete and delightful surprise.

While Adam normally would not be looking forward to leaving New York again, even for a few weeks, this was an opportunity that he knew that he just couldn’t pass up. Besides it being an opportunity to fulfill a life-long dream of performing on the West End, even for just a few weeks, it would allow him an overdue visit with his family.

Hopefully the dates would overlap with Kurt’s winter break. He was very much forward to looking to having an excuse to bringing his boyfriend to his homeland and showing him off to his family and friends there. His mother would be absolutely ecstatic for the visit, though Adam still harbored the suspicion that she would be happiest to see Kurt.

There were so many things to consider over the next few weeks, but it greatly came as a relief that immediate future employment wouldn’t be as significant a concern as it was when he woke up in the morning. If anything, he felt like he had too much going in his favor at the moment. Something would have to give.

The group of actors sauntered back to the hotel, talking excitedly as they discussed the professional bounty that had fallen into their hands. A few weeks or months of work in a show that was earning more than decent critical notice was not something any of them really felt that they would walk away from. It seemed like the entire cast was on board with the London and New York runs.

“Wow,” Niall marveled as he and Adam stepped into their room. “This is insane. I wasn’t expecting that at all.”

“Me neither,” Adam admitted. “I guess the response has been better than we knew.”

Niall looked over to his friend with a broad smile. “I can’t wait to tell Cynth. She’s going to be so happy.”

“Think that she’ll come to London with you?” Adam asked.

Niall grinned widely. “We couldn’t afford a real honeymoon, and she’s got a lot of vacation time saved up. I think I can convince her to cash a week or two in.”

Adam sat down on his bed. “It’ll be nice to see my family,” he said thoughtfully. “And I’ve been wanting to bring Kurt to England, but we haven’t been able to coordinate a time when we’d both be free.”

“Then this will give you the perfect excuse to get him on a plane.” Niall reached over to clap Adam on the shoulder. “Things are looking up for us,” he proclaimed.

Adam nodded, still trying to mentally grasp the incredible opportunity they’d been offered. “When I was a kid, I dreamed of being on the West End,” he admitted.

Niall nodded understandingly. “I did one stint there… a tiny chorus part when I was fifteen,” he explained. “Awful show, but the cast was great and the whole experience… It made me love the theater. I’ve been trying to get back on that stage ever since.”

Adam understood exactly what his friend meant. He’d dreamed of being an actor ever since his mother took him to see a local play, fascinated by how magical it was to bring a story to life. Nothing had been more important than getting to stand on that stage himself.

He had that, and so much more now. It almost felt like it was too much, but he wasn’t going to throw away the opportunities he was given. He was a professional actor now, in a show that was gaining respect with every performance.

The sacrifice was worth it, he realized. He’d regret every day spent away from Kurt, but he now could honestly say that it had been worth it. He was fulfilling his dreams and could be grateful that they were dreams that he shared with the man that he loved. He couldn’t ask for anything else.

It was two days later, on the morning of their final show in Chicago that he realized that he had some choices to make. The email from Mr. Tillman, to see if he was interested in a role for the summer festival wasn’t unexpected and he had spent a bit of time trying to work out if participating would be an option. If he didn’t know that he had “Butcher’s Bill” on his plate for the fall and spring, he probably would have jumped at the opportunity.

Now though… the schedule would be tight, he recognized. The tour was due to end right as rehearsals were set to begin, leaving him with little down time even if everything ran as planned. And he needed to find a new flat for himself and Kurt. Even if Mr. Tillman let him forgo a formal audition based solely on his past work with the company, which he honestly didn’t think would be fair, the schedule of bouncing from one show directly into another would be brutal. He’d then have only a few weeks in the fall to get his life back together before leaving for London.

Adam sighed, weighing out his options. He hated to skip the festival and as tight as the timing would be, it might be workable if he was really determined and there were no delays with the tour’s planned conclusion. Realistically though, he knew that he was going to need some proper downtime after months on the road and needed to deal with the practicalities of getting a roof over his head. This was one of those times when his head needed to overrule his heart and make the practical decision.

He got out his phone and dialed up the festival director, knowing that this was something that he would need to discuss as directly as possible without delay. He owed them nothing less. The line rang a few times before being answered.

“Hello?”

Adam swallowed tightly. “Mr. Tillman, it’s Adam Crawford,” he answered.

“Adam! It’s so good to hear from you,” Mr. Tillman said cheerfully. “How’s the tour going?”

“It’s definitely been a challenge,” Adam admitted, gratified that the director liked to keep abreast of what his performers were up to during the year. “I’ve never done anything like this, so it’s an interesting experience. Today’s our last performance in Chicago and we’re moving on to Minneapolis next. It’s a bit of an endurance trial, but I’m learning a great deal.”

He could almost see the older man nodding in understanding. “Well, I’m sure that you’ve been able to handle things,” he insisted. “So, what can I do for you today? I hope that you’re calling about the festival.”

Adam sighed. “Yes,” he acknowledged. “I know that you’re starting auditions.”

“We’ve had some people in already,” Mr. Tillman advised. “I believe that we’re seeing Kurt later this week, which I’m rather looking forward to after hearing how well he did in his school’s show.”

That brought a smile to Adam’s face. “I’m sure that he’s going to impress you,” Adam assured the director. “He’s grown quite remarkably the past year.”

“Well, I have no doubt that he’ll acquit himself well,” Mr. Tillman assured him. “But let’s talk about you. Have you given some thought to what roles you’d be interested in? I know that auditioning can be a problem with you being out of town, but I think that we can do something less formal based on your past experience with us.”

“I have. That’s actually why I’m calling,” he explained. Adam took a deep breath, knowing that he shouldn’t beat around the bush. “I’ve been thinking things over and with the tour ending right as you’re starting rehearsals, and then my play being prepared for an opening in New York, I just don’t think that I can give the festival the kind of focus that it deserves. I think that I’m going to have to miss this year.”

“Oh… that’s a real shame,” Mr. Tillman said with sincere regret and clearly not expecting the refusal. “I’m quite sorry to hear that. I was hoping that you would consider reading for Oberon with Megan coming back. We’re planning to cast her as Titania.”

Adam smiled, thinking back fondly to the actress who’s played Beatrice the past season and how well they’d worked together. “I’m really sorry,” he said sincerely. “But I need to find a new place to live when I get back to New York, and I just can’t see being able to jump into rehearsals right as the tour ends.”

“It’s all right, Adam,” Mr. Tillman assured him. “I know that you must be working very hard, and I know how difficult being in a touring production can be. We don’t want you to burn out completely. You will definitely be missed this year, but I’m glad that you’re unavailable because things are going so well for you. If I have to lose a performer that I regard so highly, that’s the reason that makes it bearable. We’ve sent a lot of actors off to bigger and better things and it was probably only a matter of time before you became one of them.”

Adam couldn’t help from smiling to himself, grateful for the director’s consideration. He had never seen Mr. Tillman resentful over the success of the performers that the festival nurtured in the three years he’d performed with them. “I appreciate that, sir,” he responded. “But there was something that I did want to run by you.”

“Hmmm? Anything that would be interesting?” the director asked.

“Possibly. I was hoping that even if I can’t perform in the shows that you might be able to use me on the production side of things,” he offered. “I did take quite a few classes on direction and stage management and I’d like to try to get a bit of practical experience.”

Mr. Tillman didn’t answer immediately, and Adam couldn’t help from biting his lower lip nervously and wonder if he was asking too much. He’d thought that they had a good working relationship based on the several years that he’d performed with the company but asking for special consideration could be pushing his luck. It wasn’t as if the company didn’t have a fine staff of professionals managing things and he probably wasn’t needed to hang around the theater and get in the way.

“Let me see what I can do,” Mr. Tillman offered. “I can’t promise a paid position, but we usually have openings for internships if that’s something that would interest you. We could at least cover your room and board during the run of the festival.”

That was exactly what he was hoping for. Even if he ended up working alongside teenagers, the practical experience would be beneficial if he ever wanted to branch out into direction. Seeing the logistics of running a professional production, from casting to staging would be invaluable for him and possibly offer future opportunities if he grew tired of acting.

And if it allowed him to spend more time with Kurt after being apart for so long, so much the better.

“Thank you so much,” Adam said gratefully. “I really appreciate it.”

He could almost hear the smile in Mr. Tillman’s voice. “Well, it would feel odd to not have you around all summer,” he granted with a chuckle. “Don’t worry… I’m sure we’ll find a use for you. Give me a call as we get closer to the season and we’ll work everything out.”

“I will,” Adam assured him. “Thanks again. This means a lot to me.”

“It wouldn’t be the same without you there in some capacity,” Mr. Tillman chuckled. “And this way, I can avoid having Kurt pouting all season.”

Adam couldn’t help from laughing a bit. “Well, he and I do appreciate it,” he insisted. “I’ll give you a call in a few weeks.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Mr. Tillman asserted sincerely. “Good luck with the rest of your tour.”

After hanging up, Adam felt considerably better about things. He was sorry that he wouldn’t be performing that summer because he’d always enjoyed the festival, but he’d made the right decision. He needed a little down time and while he might be working, it wouldn’t be as stressful as performing. He hadn’t lied about wanting to get some real experience working behind the scenes on a production and it would be a real joy to have the chance to watch Kurt performing.

Finally feeling like things were settling in a way that worked for him, Adam got up and gave a long stretch to work the stiffness out of his body. A hot shower and a few hours enjoying the sunshine and the best of what Chicago had to offer before his final performance was exactly what he needed.

Life was a complicated thing, he considered. Plenty of bumps and unexpected turns, but the journey was worthwhile when he thought about his end destination.

* * *

Rachel studied the highlighted lines in her book a final time while Tina was on stage doing her audition. This was a bit out of her comfort zone, she recognized. Acting was so much easier with a song to guide her and she knew that this was going to deprive her of her strongest talents.

Fortunately for her, with both plays there were a good number of prime supporting roles that would be suitable for her. This was a new experience and having a chance to get her feet wet and even playing in the ensemble would be to her advantage. She needed to develop nuance as a performer and be able to act without depending on vocal gymnastics to get her emotional point across.

Kurt had scheduled his audition with theirs and watching him give a taste of what he could bring to the roles he was trying for. Seeing the reception that he got from the director and the quality of reading gave her the impression that he was more than probably going to get whatever roles he was trying for and she was pleased as hell for him. After seeing her friend pushed into the background when he was so deserving of more, watching him blossom the way he had in the past year or so had been a true joy.

Fortunately she and Tina weren’t reading for the same roles, Rachel considered as she waited for her turn. There were enough options that they could avoid putting themselves in direct competition with one another, and the last thing that Rachel wanted was for her competitiveness to get in the way of their close friendship again. There would come a time when they might be vying for the same roles, but Rachel hoped that she had finally gotten to the point where her need to win didn’t override everything else that was important to her. She’d made that mistake far too many times already.

When Tina was finished and hopped off the small stage with a happy smile, Kurt was on his feet to sweep her into his arms. “You did great,” he praised.

She just smiled and shrugged a bit. “It wasn’t bad,” she granted. “But I’m not expecting to get a big part. There are just going to be too many people with more experience than me.”

“You might be surprised,” Kurt insisted. “I was my first year.”

Mr. Tillman looked up from the notes he’d been writing and called, “Rachel? If you’re ready?”

She took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. This wasn’t Funny Girl. She wasn’t that person anymore. This was going to be different.

Once on the stage and facing the production team, she forced herself to relax as much as possible. Mr. Tillman offered her a reassuring smile and looked up from her CV. “So, Rachel… you’re also a second-year student at NYADA?” he confirmed.

“Yes. My focus has always been on musical theater, but I do understand that ignoring the wider theater world would limit my potential to develop as an actor. After seeing what Kurt was able to do last year, I knew that I needed to expand my range and I hope that I can bring something interesting to your festival.”

“And this would be your first professional production?” Mr. Tillman clarified.

For once, the reminder didn’t cause her pain. She just nodded in confirmation. “All of my experience has been in school productions,” she explained. “I’m looking forward to taking what I’ve learned over the years and trying in a more challenging environment.”

“Okay… then begin when you’re ready,” Mr. Tillman requested, sitting back in his seat to watch her.

She took another steadying breath and went through her monologue, trying to modulate her performance and keep from being too manic without becoming too static. It seemed to take forever she knew that the monologue would only take a minute or so to get through. When she was finished, Mr. Tillman jotted down a few notes before looking back to her.

“Thank you, Rachel, that was lovely,” he said with a sincere smile. Unlike the production team for Funny Girl where the initial audition was so impersonal, she felt like he genuinely wanted her to do well. “You’re interested in possibly playing Helen and Hermia, correct?”

She nodded. “Yes. I realize that there are a limited number of women’s roles in both plays and I wouldn’t be suitable for several of them.”

“That may be true, and I do give you credit for thinking about that. I’ve had to break it to a lot of actors that the roles they auditioned for just weren’t right for them, but I very often find that young actors are just starting to figure out what they’re capable of. If we thought you’d be better suited in other roles or in the ensemble, would you be okay with that?” Mr. Tillman asked. “They may not be as prominent but there are quite a few parts that often go overlooked.”

She smiled brightly. “Definitely,” she affirmed happily. “I was in the ensemble for our school production and it was a really fulfilling experience.”

Her willingness to accept a supporting role seemed to please him and Mr. Tillman nodded in approval. “Well, we’re definitely going to be in touch with you,” he promised. “We’ll be doing callbacks in the next few weeks once we work through the rest of the auditions. We’ll talk more about what roles might be good for you.”

It’s wasn’t the most overtly enthusiastic response she could have hoped for, but her audition was handled with the same calm professionalism that she saw with Kurt’s and Tina’s. Mr. Tillman had watched her carefully, taking in all aspects of her audition and treated her with respect. Leaving herself open to being cast in roles other than the ones she read for might possibly leave her in the ensemble, but that was better than not getting a role at all. And being in the ensemble wouldn’t be the most terrible thing, she decided. Another chance to learn and grow a bit while still getting to be on a stage. Hopefully she had done enough to get something more.

Kurt was waiting for her with open arms and a reassuring smile. “He loved you,” he insisted, giving her a warm embrace.

“I hope so,” she admitted with a shy smile.

“No, he really did,” Kurt claimed. “If he’s asking you to consider other parts, then he’s thinking seriously about casting you in something. And the ensemble was a lot of fun last summer.”

“Well, I’m not going to lie,” Rachel stated as she gathered up her things. “I’d like to get something more, but I won’t turn down an ensemble role. I know that I really need to develop more as an actor and not depend on my voice so much.”

“At least the two of you are likely to get something,” Tina added. “I’m still a first-year theater student and I don’t have the kind of experience you two got at NYADA. “

“You might be surprised,” Kurt maintained with a smile. “I didn’t expect anything last year and look what happened. In the meantime, we have a little while before we need to catch the train and there’s a nice coffee shop near the station. Let me treat the two of you to a drink before we head back to the city.”

Rachel nodded in agreement. “That sounds like a great idea. Thanks.”

As they walked out of the theater, Kurt noted a young woman with bright auburn hair pulled into a neat braid walking in. She looked up at him with a happy smile of recognition and rushed forward to hug him.

“Oh my God! It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms about him.

“It’s good to see you too, Tracy,” he said in return. “I was hoping that you and Craig would be back this season.”

Rachel then realized that this had been one of Kurt’s castmates from the previous summer and couldn’t help from smiling at seeing his joy at seeing her. Tina turned questioning glance at her, clearly not recognizing the other young woman and Rachel whispered the identity in her ear.

“Craig did his audition last week,” Tracy informed him. “It looks like we’ll have a rookie reunion this summer.”

Kurt laughed brightly. “But we’re not rookies anymore,” he reminded her.

“No, I guess we’re not,” she admitted with a playful grin. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t get over to see you in Les Miz but it was impossible to get tickets!”

Kurt smiled and shook his head. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” he insisted. “I know it’s been a crazy year for all of us.”

“Well, I read all of the reviews and I know how great you all did,” she responded, giving Kurt a playful nudge. He just grinned and motioned for Rachel and Tina to come forward.

“Let me introduce all of you,” he proposed drawing Tina and Rachel forward and making the formal introductions. “You met Rachel and Tina last summer when they came to see me. Rachel’s a classmate of mine and Tina’s over at NYU. I convinced them to audition this year.”

“It’s nice to see both of you again. Kurt always brings the most talented people with him,” Tracy said sincerely. She turned to Kurt and asked, “You read for Puck, didn’t you?”

Kurt nodded with a pleased expression.

“Well, Craig is going to be very put out. He was kind of hoping to get that part, but he won’t stand a chance against you,” Tracy said confidently. “Please tell me that you didn’t read for Lysander too, so I can put his mind at ease that he’s not going to get shut out.”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing. “I didn’t, but if he’s also reading for Paris, then all bets are off.

“What about Adam?” she asked. “Is he going to be back from his tour in time?”

Kurt couldn’t help from sighing. “He’ll be back, but he’s going to need a break from performing,” he explained. “I really can’t blame him because the tour is taking a lot out of him. He’s trying to get something with the production so he can be a part of the festival without having to worry about a new role.”

“Oh, that’s a real shame,” Tracy said regretfully. “But I’m glad that you’re going to be back this season.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Kurt admitted with a smile. “Good luck with your audition. We’ll meet up and commiserate when the cast lists come out.”

Tracy smile and nodded to the other two girls. “It was so nice to see you both again,” she said cheerfully. “It’ll be nice to have some more girls around.”

“It’s great to meet you too,” Tina responded with a warm smile. “Good luck at your audition.”

“Thanks. I’d better get going, otherwise I’ll be late,” Tracy said appreciatively before giving Kurt a final hug and disappearing into the theater.

Rachel watched her run into the theater and turned an appraising glance to her friend. “She seems really nice.”

Kurt nodded in confirmation. “It was really great working with her and Craig last summer,” he said agreeably. “I mean, I loved working with Adam and the rest of the cast but it was reassuring to have some people my own age around. Having someone to share being new with made the experience a lot easier.”

Rachel nodded and turned to Tina with a smile. “Then it’s a good thing that you and I are doing this,” she insisted. “And having Kurt show us the ropes.”

“Definitely,” Tina agreed, smiling at her friends.

Kurt gathered them both under his arms and lead them away. “Well, come on, my ladies. I think that coffee and cake is just the kind of thing we need to celebrate your auditions.”

* * *

It was three weeks later that Rachel was leaving her American Playwrights workshop where she had been wrestling with the works of David Mamet when her phone began to ring. She struggled to fish it out of her purse, trying not to drop her books. By the time she’d completed her juggling act, the call had gone to her voice mail. Damn it…

She hurried to a table in the commons area where she could get her things in order and see who was calling, her face paling when she realized just who she’d missed. She quickly redialed the number, mentally sending up a little prayer as the line rang that the news would be good and bit back an audible sigh of relief when the line was picked up.

“Matthew Tillman here.”

Rachel swallowed tightly. “Hi, this is Rachel Berry,” she said, pleased that she was able to keep her tone so even and calm. “I think that I just missed your call.”

“Ah, Rachel… I’m glad that you called back so quickly.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t answer immediately, but I was just coming out of class,” she explained.

“That’s quite all right,” he assured her. “I figured that you’d be in class. I just wanted to touch base with you about your audition. Now if my notes are correct, you were interested in playing Helen, correct?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “And Hermina for Midsummer.”

“You also indicated that you would be open to reading for other roles,” he clarified.

“That’s right,” she agreed, hoping that she was playing this right. Even if she ended up in the ensemble for both shows, she very much wanted to be cast in something.

“We’re very interested in you, but we’re getting a lot of interest in those particular roles,” Mr. Tillman informed her honestly. “I’d like for you to come back and read for them again, but I’d also like for you to read for Cassandra in Troilous. I think you might be a good match that part.”

Realizing that she wasn’t being shut out, Rachel felt a smile cross her face. “Of course! I’d be happy to! When would you like me to come in?”

Kurt was walking out of his weapons class, feeling a bit battered because Mr. Hansen spent the past two hours using them all for pounding toys. He could already feel the bruises rising on his skin where he was swatted by the edge of a saber for letting his guard down. He was going to need to spend a good amount of time in the showers after class soaking in the heat and then a liberal application of Arnica cream. Unfortunately, with his fair complexion he bruised like a peach and he was going to look like he got run over by a truck by morning if he didn’t take proper care.

He was not expecting to be collided with by a petite bowling ball that barreled into him at warp speed. He grunted, catching Rachel before she could knock him into the wall and swung her to diffuse the impact.

“Rachel, are you crazy?” he complained, setting her back on her feet. “What is the matter with you?”

“They called me back!” she exclaimed happily, bouncing up and down. “I got a call back!”

The news immediately extinguished Kurt’s irritation and he found himself delighted for his friend. “That’s great! For both parts?” he asked.

She nodded. “Mr. Tillman is also asking me to read for another role,” she explained. “He said that there’s a lot of competition for the ones I read for and suggested another role to consider. That’s good, right?”

“Definitely,” he confirmed. “And it’s great that they still want you to read for the parts that your originally auditioned for. I was already shut out of one part by this point.”

She clutched at his arm, trying to keep her excitement under control. “I’m trying not to read too much into that. I know that I can’t expect to get every part I read for.”

“But being called back is a good sign that they want you for something,” he assured her. “When are you going in?”

“Thursday after my last class. Thankfully I don’t need to be in early on Friday. What about you? They are asking you back right?”

He nodded, looking quietly satisfied which Rachel thought he had every right to feel. After his performances the past summer and this past spring, she thought that they would be insane not to have him back and with any role he wished for.

“I’m going in on Saturday morning,” he explained. “Mr. Tillman is coming in to meet with me because I’ve got to give Isabelle some time with the summer issues going out. The next few weeks are going to be a bit crazed.”

Rachel was delighted that they both were being called in for the parts they read for. “I’m going to call Tina and see if she heard anything,” Rachel informed him. “Because I can’t imagine her not getting a call back. Maybe she and I can do our call backs together.”

“We’ll talk before you go in,” Kurt promised. “I’ll let you know what to expect and how they run things. There’s a good chance that you’ll know what you’re being cast for right there. You just have to remember that you’re new with the festival, so you probably won’t get everything you’re trying for.”

She nodded in understanding. “I’m not expecting that,” she assured him honestly. “I’ll be thrilled to just get one of them.”

She probably would shock anyone who had known her in the past, but she was being completely sincere. To get even one speaking role would be a tremendous accomplishment for her and would go a long way to finally healing over the disappointment that she’d suffered from the Funny Girl debacle. She was working hard to keep her expectations under control and could take real satisfaction that she was getting a call back at all, let alone for all the roles she’d auditioned for.

“Well, I’ve got to get to class,” Rachel said with a sigh. “But do you have a chance to hang out anytime this week? Santana’s been making noises about you making yourself so scarce.”

Kurt chuckled, knowing that his friend’s language probably had been rather colorful on the subject. “We’ll find some time,” he promised. “Maybe we can all go out for dinner one night this week before Santana has to go to the club.”

She nodded before leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you a bit later,” she stated. “Have fun with Madam Tibideaux.”

“Thanks. I’m sure that she’s sharpening her knives as we speak,” he quipped.

Fortunately he had just enough time before his session with her to grab a cup of green tea and get his throat in order before arriving at the classroom. Madam Tibideaux hadn’t arrived yet, so he used the time to get his warmups done, knowing very well that she would want to just drive right in.

She arrived a surprisingly ten minutes late, her assistant following quietly in her wake. “My apologies, Mr. Hummel,” the Dean said sincerely. “I had an important phone call with one of our donors who’s been making some considerable contributions to our school after seeing the musical.”

“I used the time to get my warmups out of the way,” he assured her. “I thought that way we wouldn’t lose too much time.”

The Dean smiled and nodded in approval. “Wonderful. Then if you’re ready, I’d like to see how those exercises you’ve been assigned have helping your development.”

Kurt nodded and took his place by the piano. Madam Tibideux nodded to her assistant and a piece of music that he’d become intimately familiar with over the past few days. He closed his eyes, reminding himself of what her expectations would be of him. When the cue came in for him to begin, Kurt was ready.

“The nightingale sighed for the moon’s bright ray,” he sang out, maintaining the balance of strength and gentleness that the aria called for. “And told his tale in his own melodious way. He sang ‘Ah, well-a-day!’

“The lowly vale for the mountain vainly sighed, to his humble wail. The echoing hills replied. They sang ‘Ah, well-a-day!’”

This was more difficult than a lot of the Broadway oriented songs that he’d performed for his teacher in the past. The melody was more complex, requiring him to make the most of his precision and hit each note cleanly while still showing the deep emotion that the song required. The melody was a lot more complex than it initially appeared, making it a real challenge to make sure that he didn’t neglect the emotional component of the song clear while focusing on keeping his vocal technique as clean as possible. It was a real test for her to see just how far he’d come as a singer.

Kurt could understand why his teacher was focusing more on this style of singing. It was pushing him to refine his technique and his natural ability to tap into a song’s emotion. And asking him to perform the song for a traditional romantic lead was clearly designed as a way to compel him to expand his range as an actor.

While Madam Tibideaux would expect that his voice be able to carry the emotional story on its own, she would also expect him to show that he could fully realize the characters and bring in his compete arsenal of acting skills in an effective manner. He softened his expression, looking wistful as he contemplated his character’s beloved. “I know the value of a kindly chorus. But choruses yield little consolation,” he crooned gently, letting his voice float upon the notes played on the piano. “When we have pain and sorrow too before us! I love – and love, alas, above my station!

“A maiden fair to see. The pearl of minstrelsy,” he expressed thoughtfully, trying to paint the image of a young man deeply in love with the woman he could never have. “A bud of blushing beauty, for whom proud nobles sigh. And with each other vie to do her menial’s duty.”

Madam Tibideaux watched him closely, only looking down to make the occasional note on her pad. One might make the mistake to think that after all this time that her sharp observation would no longer be intimidating to students who had ample experience under her tutelage. They would be mistaken.

Kurt would always be aware of his shortcomings. When his newfound technical skill would fail him, or when he was unable to truly grasp the emotional heat of a performance. Those were the moments that he dreaded, because he would be more disappointed in himself than any criticism she could offer.

He knew that he wasn’t going to present the most pristine vocal skills, but he could make sure that he gave a full display of the emotional story. He delved in deep within himself, finding the insecure boy who’d loved someone he felt was so far out of his league. It was a hurt that he was well acquainted with, wishing that the one he’d loved would notice him and remembered the pain of being overlooked or found lacking.

“A suitor, lowly born… with hopeless passion torn, and poor beyond denying,” he sang mournfully, giving full rein to his character’s despair. “Has dared for her to pine, at whose exalted shrine. A world of wealth is sighing.”

Kurt wished that he could get some sense of how he was doing, but Madam Tibideux never gave any sign during her evaluations. Like the Cheshire Cat, she watched and would pass judgement on her own time.

Wanting very much to give her what she wanted, Kurt delved deep and focused. “Unlearned he in aught, save that which love has taught. For love had been his tutor,” he sang, bringing a quiet gentleness to his tone. “Oh, pity… pity me… Our captain’s daughter she, and I that lowly suitor.”

The music drew to a close and Madam Tibideaux was still jotting down her notes, leaving him standing silently and waiting for her verdict. Several long moments passed, and he felt himself starting to fidget before she finally set her pad aside and looked at him expectantly.

“So…” She cocked an appraising eyebrow in his direction, motioning for him to take the seat next to her. This was going to take a while.

“Before I tell you what I think, I’d like to hear your opinion.”

Kurt exhaled deeply, knowing that she fully expected him to be aware of his flaws and if not totally able to self-correct, to at least know where his errors were. Failing to note them would reflect badly on his progress.

“I think that I had a good grasp on the emotional story,” he proposed with a certain confidence. That has never been a serious problem for him and he thought that he’d added some nice nuances. “I tried to translate my own experiences with what the character was trying to express, even if they weren’t a perfect match. But I think that aspect of the performance worked.

“Technique wise...” Kurt took a moment to consider how he’d sung the number before making his self-appraisal. It had been far from his best performance, but it wasn’t completely awful. “Overall it wasn’t bad, but I don’t think that my notes were true at several points. Even though it’s not a fast number, the way the notes are drawn out make them challenging to hold. And I think I sounded a little pitchy at a few points.”

Madam Tibideaux nodded, pleased that he wasn’t trying to excuse his errors and had enough in the way of self-awareness to recognize that he’d made mistakes. But she offered a reassuring smile, not wanting this to be a negative experience for a student that she found so promising.

“I know that this style of music would be a challenge for most singers and I wouldn’t ask most students to attempt it. But given how you used Candide for your audition material, I thought that you’d enjoy the challenge,” she confided, offering a reassuring smile. “The catalogue of Gilbert and Sullivan does lean closer to classical opera than anything you’ll find in conventional musical theater, which is one of the reasons that you’ll primarily see it performed by opera houses nowadays. Students who aren’t focused on classical singing will probably have little experience trying to perform material like this. It’s a very different style and calls for a more refined technique.”

Kurt felt himself nodding in agreement, thinking back to his high school experiences with musicals. They had always stuck to material that wasn’t especially challenging vocally, which wasn’t a surprise given Mr. Schue’s limitations and the lack of formal training in most of the choir. It was been smarter to stick with rock or more modern, well-known musicals that empathized their strengths and downplayed their weaknesses. Even then most of their efforts were underwhelming, in his opinion.

Madam Tibideaux waited until she was confident that he grasped what she was trying to teach him. “Even the similarities in style and structure, Les Miserables is closer to modern musicals than it is to classic opera. The technique that you’d learned up to now allowed you to acquit yourself well as Enjolras, but as we’ve spoken before, you’d only really begun to scratch the surface of your potential as a performer.

“This was meant to be difficult for you because you need to be pushed,” she reminded him. “I expect you to showing weakness in your technique as we move along. If you’re not making mistakes, that means that you’re not trying to grow beyond what you already are capable of. I see a lot of very talented students who are so afraid of being seen as imperfect that they never really get out of their box. Even if you through your entire career never performing material like this, I still think that it’s useful for your development and I’m pleased that you’re not shying away from it.”

Kurt nodded, understanding exactly the point that she was making. Maybe because he’d arrived with so little real training left him more open to being molded, unlike Rachel for example, who came to NYADA with a very clear and rigid view of who she was as a performer and had a difficult time accepting correction. Both of them needed to open themselves up to learning, though someone like Rachel would have to unlearn a great many things as well.

Once she saw that he had a comprehension of what she was explaining, she looked down at her notes. “Now to your credit, you’re not trying to hide behind the music to mask your mistakes. And we’re seeing some real improvement in your technique,” she noted. “As I said, allowing yourself to make mistakes and fail is what’s going to allow you to grow and I’m not expecting you to anywhere close to perfect at this point.

“That’s not to say that there weren’t moments where you were doing everything right and your voice sounded absolutely lovely. I’m seeing very good control of your head and chest voice. You are getting better with manipulating your larynx and I’m seeing a lot more in the way of vocal flexibility. You know your voice well and you’re getting more confident with your control, which is something that I definitely want to see at this point.”

Kurt allowed himself to relax just a tiny bit with the knowledge that it wasn’t all bad.

“But then about halfway though, I think that the melody was starting to get away from you,” his teacher said thoughtfully. “You weren’t sustaining the long notes as cleanly as I usually see from you, which indicates that you’re not getting enough air flow. And there were points where you were overusing your vibrato in a way that wasn’t especially pleasant. You can go a little sharp when you lose control of your upper range and too much vibrato highlights that.”

At seeing that he was paying close attention to her critique and wasn’t resisting her appraisal, she nodded in approval. “But all in all, it wasn’t a bad first effort,” Madam Tibideaux assured him. “I’m pleased that you were catching yourself when you made mistakes and trying to self-correct. You’re paying attention to what you’re doing and are aware when things aren’t going as expected which is probably the most that we could reasonably expect at this stage. Your grasp of melisma is stronger and while this particular run-through was a bit rough around the edges, it’s showing some decent technical bones to build on. You have been practicing, and it shows. What we need to do is build on your skills, continue developing your strength. Because we’ve just begun to explore what you’re going to be capable of as a technician and an artist.”

Kurt listened closely, considering her evaluation and was grateful that it wasn’t as bad as he’d been fearing. He knew by now that however sharply worded her critiques could be, they were all designed to make him a stronger performer. In order to do that, he needed to put his ego on the back burner, be willing to listen and actually accept her tutelage.

He cleared his throat and looked to his teacher. “Can we try it again?” he asked.

The Dean smiled and nodded. “I was just about to suggest that,” she chuckled warmly, motioning for him to take his place by the piano.

He took a quick sip from his water bottle, swishing it about his mouth before swallowing. When he was ready, he nodded to the pianist to begin.

* * *

Sitting at the airport and waiting for a delayed flight was no one’s idea of fun, Adam considered as he looked at the board for what felt like the millionth time but there was no help for that. A nasty storm front moving through the middle of the country had grounded their plane for at least the next few hours. Far longer than the actual flight was supposed to take.

Fortunately, they weren’t due to open in Minneapolis for a week, so losing the better part of a day wasn’t going to be that bad. They would have plenty of time to settle in and get used to the new stage before opening night. The biggest issue was boredom while they waited for any word about their flight. The group had dispersed to find their own amusements while they waited, with Niall roaming the shops to see if he could find a nice little gift to send to his wife. Adam decided to wait until when he was sure that Kurt would be on a break between classes. He had texted Kurt, telling him to call when he was free.

In the meantime, Adam was able to find a café with only moderately overpriced coffee and a relatively quiet corner of the waiting area where he could do some writing while he killed time. They had just gotten another announcement that the delay would be for at least one more hour when his phone began to ring. Seeing Kurt’s number come up on the screen, he closed his laptop and turned his full attention to the call.

“Good morning, darling,” he greeted happily, his mood immediately improving. “I hope that I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all,” Kurt assured him cheerfully. “I just got out of class when I saw your text. Is everything okay?”

Adam sighed. “Just cooling my heels at the airport. Our flight was delayed, and we’re stuck here for a bit. We probably could have driven to Minneapolis in less time.”

“Oh, poor baby,” Kurt cooed teasingly, causing Adam to smile a bit in response. “But I’m sure that the plane will be more comfortable than a bus. Are you okay?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” Adam admitted. “And I had a question for you... Did you ever get around to getting your passport?”

“Not yet,” Kurt admitted. “I keep meaning to look into getting one, but things have been so busy and I haven’t really needed it.”

Adam smiled wider. “Then, my dear, you’d better get your application submitted. Because you’re coming with me to London this winter.”

“I am?” Kurt exclaimed. “Adam, that’s very sweet of you but you’re going there to work, and…”

“And I want you there with me, at least for a little while during your winter break,” Adam insisted. “Whatever time you can give. I want to be able to show London to you and my family is already making plans for you to visit them. You can’t let me disappoint them.”

Adam knew his young lover better than most and was quite aware of his habit being mindful of not overstepping so that he didn’t intrude where he didn’t deserve to be. Kurt’s sense of propriety and consideration could often go into overdrive and he wouldn’t put himself in a position where he might distract Adam during what would be the highlight of his career thus far. He’d want Adam to have the freedom to reap all the rewards of his accomplishments without giving any kind of appearance that he was trying to ride on his lover’s coattails.

Which was utter bullocks, as far as Adam was concerned. What good was all of this if he couldn’t enjoy it with the man he loved?

“I won’t take no for an answer,” he warned with a smile and gentle firmness in his voice. “London is absolutely beautiful during the holidays and I want you there with me. Please… don’t make me beg, love.”

He heard Kurt sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re making that pitiful, homeless puppy face, aren’t you?” he accused.

“If that’s what it takes to get you to come with me,” Adam warned. “Or if necessary, I’ll just sic Mum on you.”

He could positively picture Kurt’s frown. “Oh, that’s not fair,” Kurt accused petulantly.

“Well, you’ll be the one to tell Mum that you don’t want to come visit with her,” Adam teased. “I’m sure that she’ll be very understanding that you’d rather putter about New York by yourself than let her spoil you and take you shopping...

That brought a laugh out of the younger man. “All right… you don’t have play rough.”

“You like it when I play rough,” Adam growled playfully.

Kurt laughed again. “Don’t threaten what you can’t finish,” he teased. “At least I’ll finally get to shop at Harrods.”

“Harrods is totally overrated, but it is a bit of fun during the Christmas season,” Adam insisted. “Oh, sweetheart, I can’t for you to see it. Big Ben, the changing of the guard… we’ll do all the touristy things. And when I’m working, Mum and Dad want to take you to Essex for a day or two. You’ll get to see where I grew up and have them take you around. You can’t disappointment them.”

��Of course not,” Kurt agreed. “Because I wouldn’t put it past her to hop onto a plane and carry me off in a burlap sack.”

Adam knew that Kurt’s resistance would dissolve like wet tissue paper with the right inducements and he’d certainly laid out his best argument for Kurt to just comply graciously. They’d hoped to make a trip to England before this, but with his work and Kurt’s schooling, they never managed to find the time. This was a better reason than most to finally make that trip and he hated the idea of another few weeks spent apart.

“I’m sorry if I sound like I’m pushing so hard,” Adam granted. “But we’ve been apart long enough for the time being, don’t you think?”

Kurt didn’t answer immediately, but Adam could easily picture the softening in his gorgeous eyes and the soft smile touching his features.

“I think you might be right,” Kurt admitted.

An announcement came on over the system that Adam’s flight would start boarding in thirty minutes, causing him to sign in relief.

“Finally!” he exclaimed.

“They’re calling your flight?”

“Yes… we’ll be boarding soon,” Adam confirmed. “I’d better go round up Niall so he doesn’t miss the flight.”

“Then I’d better let you go,” Kurt offered. “Have a good flight.”

Adam couldn’t help from smiling. “I’ll call you when you’re checked into the hotel,” he promised. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kurt returned gently. “Talk to you later.”

Ending calls was always hard, Adam thought as he reluctantly hung up the phone. Giving up that tenuous connection caused near physical pain when all he wanted to do was pull Kurt into his arms and never let go. The longer he was away from home, the more he craved Kurt’s presence. Some relationships fell apart with prolonged distance, he knew. Others grew stronger.

He and Kurt were proving to be of that material. And he knew that it was only a matter of time before their time apart would end. At least for now, he realized. It was nearly unavoidable that their profession might require them to work away from one another, but he now was confident that they would not only survive but thrive. Both as individuals and a couple.

* * *

With Funny Girl, Rachel had gotten a brutal reality check about the business that she aspired to and it had been a hard realization that the world didn’t see her as the budding star that she’d imagined herself to be. Learning that she would have to fight for her place in the world, and that she would fail at least as often as she succeeded, had been a harsh wake up call.

But it was one that she’d very much needed, she could recognize in hindsight. And she realized that just maybe Kurt had it right by making a smaller production his first foray into professional acting. Admittedly, she much preferred the more intimate process that the Garrison Festival utilized over the cattle call of Funny Girl. She actually felt like the director was paying attention to her and that she wasn’t just a face in the crowd.

Rachel was very aware that she wouldn’t always have this luxury, and that she would have to deal with open calls for the roles she wanted. But getting proper feedback and a chance to grow as a performer made putting herself up for judgement worthwhile, even if she didn’t get the role that she wanted.

When she stepped out of the theater into the warm afternoon sunshine, she felt that odd disconnect that she’d felt after the Funny Girl callback, but for an entirely different reason. Her mind was still trying to come to terms with what had happened inside the theater, but this time she didn’t have to deal with it alone.

“I can’t believe it,” Tina said, her dark eyes shining as they walked out of the theater. “We did it.”

Rachel felt herself nodding, but it hadn’t really hit her yet. She got a part. A real part.

“You were amazing,” she praised the younger girl. “I’m so glad that you got Hippolyta.”

“What about you, ‘Cassandra’?” Tina retorted. “You’re going to have so much fun playing her and Moth.”

Rachel couldn’t help from grinning happily, amused at no end to be playing a character with the same name as the teacher who’d bedeviled her for nearly the whole of her time at NYADA. “With us and Kurt in the same shows, it’s almost going to feel like a mini-New Directions production.”

And it would be, Rachel told herself confidently. She had full assurance that Kurt would get at least one of the roles he was getting a callback for. She would not be at all surprised if he managed to land speaking roles in both plays, because he certainly had the talent to warrant it.

She was grateful that while she and Tina had auditioned for the same shows that they hadn’t gone after the same parts. While she was sure that she would have been able to handle it if Tina had gotten a role over her, she was happy that they didn’t need to put themselves into direct competition just yet. This would be nothing but good memories for the both of them.

As the reality of her role began to sink in, she felt the anxiousness that she’d felt right before the callback fade and the excitement over what she’d achieved began to sink in. There would be phone calls to be made to her delighted parents and her friends. Then they just had to wait for Kurt’s callback for them to really celebrate.

* * *

Even when one was reasonably confident that they were likely to be successful to some degree, callbacks were always nerve wreaking. Kurt was secure in his own abilities as an actor and knew how much he had developed over the past year. He knew that he could bring something really special to the roles that he had auditioned for, but there was no way to know how other actors had been received. He could only do his best and hope that he was better.

He was thrilled that Rachel and Tina had survived their auditions and he was thrilled that they both managed to land speaking and ensemble roles. For Rachel, it had been especially gratifying when she was told that she would play Cassandra in Troilus and Kurt had wanted to take her out to celebrate, but she insisted on waiting until he knew what roles he was playing. She wanted to make sure that they all celebrated together because in her mind, there was no chance of him not getting cast.

Her confidence in him was gratifying and certainly gave him a bit more confidence heading into his callback. He wasn’t the surprise new kid anymore and the expectations for him were much higher. He had to bring his best game if he wanted to impress Mr. Tillman this time around.

He arrived at the theater to find Mr. Tillman waiting, along with several other members of the production team. “Good morning, Kurt,” the director greeted, shaking Kurt’s hand. “Thanks for coming in today.”

“Thank you for accommodating me,” Kurt said sincerely. “I’m sorry for getting you up so early on a Saturday.”

The older man just smiled. “It’s not a problem at all. I know that your school schedule can be a bit insane,” he insisted. “Well, we have a lot to get through, so why don’t we get started?”

Kurt nodded in agreement, stepping up onto the stage. “Should I start with reading for Paris?”

“Sounds good,” Mr. Tillman agreed and settled into a seat so he could give the actor his full attention.

Kurt had all his monologues committed to memory and knew how he wanted to portray each of the characters. Paris was the young romantic, blinded by his love for Helen and responsible for plunging his nation into war as a result, but unrepentant for it. Patroclus was a great warrior in his own right, a fact nearly overshadowed by his profound sense of loyalty to Achilles. Both were in some ways peripheral to the main focus of the storyline, the doomed love of the title characters, but they were vital to the course of action.

And then there was Puck… the fae trickster that was far too clever for his own good and created mischief and havoc wherever he went. Kurt wanted to portray him as having a bit of an edge; less the innocent sprite that he often was portrayed as and more of a trickster out of classical mythology that could cause conflict for nothing more than his own amusement.

“My mistress, with a monster, is in love,” he pronounced with a rather deranged giggle at the fairy queen’s expense. “Near to her close and consecrated bower. While she was in her dull and sleeping our, a crew of patches, rude mechanicals that work for bread upon Athenian stalls.”

He leaned forward, as if divulging some great joke. “Were met together to rehearse a play intended for great Theseus’ nuptial day,” he explained with a wry smile and a twinkle of near madness in his eyes. “The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort, who Pyramus presented, in their sport.

“Forsook his scene and enter’d in a brake. When I did him, at this advantage take, an ass’s nole I fixed on his head!”

He broke down with laughter at his own cunning, going on to describe how Puck had managed to catch Titania in his web of spells and tricks and taking delight in the queen’s humiliation and uncaring about the harm that he might have done an innocent mortal. He’d seen enough bullies in his life to know exactly how to play out the tricks and by letting Puck show the cruelty inherent in his actions, Kurt was confident would set him apart from all the other performers.

When he was finished, Mr. Tillman took a few moments to confer with the other members of the production team before turning to Kurt with a broad grin,

“Well, thank you Kurt,” he said sincerely. “We were hoping to see maturing from you as a performer and you certainly didn’t disappoint. That was, for me, one of the most interesting takes on Puck that I’ve seen in a long time. The edge of malevolence was very different than most impressions of the character.”

Kurt nodded, glad that his intentions carried through the performance. “That was exactly what I was going for,” he confirmed. “I really wanted to avoid any comparisons to the way Micky Rooney played him. I know that’s the archetype for the character, but I wanted to give him a totally different vibe. Maybe a little more Loki than usually gets portrayed.”

Mr. Tillman looked quite pleased with his answer. “Well, I certainly hope that you plan to develop the character farther this season because Puck is always a highlight of the show. I think that you’re going to bring something very interesting for our audience. It’s good to challenge their expectations once in a while.

“Now as for Troilus… we’re a little bit conflicted,” Mr. Tillman admitted. “I think that you’d acquit yourself admirably in both parts but I want to make sure that we’re giving you a role that will really take advantage of what you bring to the table. You’ve been taking stage combat, correct?”

Kurt nodded, wondering where this was going. “I’m in my second semester of training,” he confirmed.

Mr. Tillman made a note and nodded in approval. “With several of our more seasoned performers moving on, we have a definite shortage of actors with combat training this year and there are some battle scenes in Troilus. I also am of a mind to take advantage of the chemistry you had with Ben last season. We’ve cast him as Achilles and the two of you worked well together, which is why I’m inclined to cast you as Patroclus.

“Now, one thing to keep in mind is that I’m intending to play up the closeness between Achilles and Patroclus and make it obvious that they are more than just comrades,” the director explained, watching for his reaction to the proposition. “The play itself doesn’t shy away from the inuendo, but we’re going to make it a bit more clear about the nature of their relationship and give some more focus to their motivations. Is that something that would be an issue for you?”

Kurt kept his expression neutral as he considered the idea. He wouldn’t mind working with Ben again, and there was always the possibility that the show would want to explore that aspect of the characters’ relationship. While he couldn’t help from wondering if being gay was a factor in the casting, he wouldn’t allow that to bother him. There would be enough times where his sexuality might keep him out of roles so taking advantage now, it that was indeed the case, wouldn’t bother him too much.

“Not at all,” he assured the director. “I know that their relationship isn’t a major focus of the play, but it would add some interesting nuances and draw some contrasts with the other love stories.”

Mr. Tillman looked extremely pleased with his response and gave a firm nod of approval. “Then it looks like we’re set. I know that we’re putting a lot of pressure on you this season, Kurt, but I think that you’re up to the challenge.”

Kurt grinned and hopped off the stage to shake Mr. Tillman’s hand. “Thank you so much,” he said sincerely.

The director just smiled. “We’re very happy to have you back this season,” he insisted. “It’s always wonderful to welcome new actors and watch them develop, and we have high expectations for you. I think that these plays are going to give you a lot to really sink your teeth into.

“We’ll be in touch about all the administrative stuff and send you the rehearsal schedule. I need to you start committing your roles to memory because things are going to move quickly once rehearsals start and you’re going to have a lot on your plate.”

Kurt nodded in understanding. “I definitely will,” he assured the older man. After shaking the director’s hand again and thanking him, Kurt gathered his things and left the theater with a bit of a well-deserved spring in his step.

That evening found him in Bushwick, toasting the success of his friends while they toasted his. He sat on the floor with Rachel and Tina, sharing a bottle of cheap but still very drinkable rosé and several containers of take out food. He would have plenty of time to stress about the hard work facing him, but right now he just wanted to celebrate with two of his best friends.

They wouldn’t always be so fortunate, so this was a rare moment of success for them to savor.

* * *

Kurt's solo: "The Nightingale" - H.M.S . Pinafore

#kadam fic #kadam #kurt hummel #adam crawford #rachel berry #tina cohen chang #carmen tibideaux #original characters #not blaine or klaine friendly

24 notes · View notes

thebrewstorian · 5 years ago

Text

This is the [incomplete] story of Oregon beer, part 2

This is the second part of the story of Oregon beer.

Read This is the [incomplete] story of Oregon beer, part 1

This talk is based on an Oregon Encyclopedia article I wrote.

Last February I gave a talk at the Oregon Brewers Guild dinner. None of us knew what was ahead for public health, the economy, and social change. I love giving talks and will certainly repurpose this one, but for now, here are the slides and script with a few additions to reflect the pandemic shut down and updated screenshots from the beer guides.

https://guides.library.oregonstate.edu/beer_research

https://guides.library.oregonstate.edu/brewingarchives

In the spring of 1980, Charles and Shirley Coury, who had owned a vineyard for 13 years in Forest Grove, opened a brewery Portland. They called it Cartwright Brewing Company (Cartwright was Shirley’s maiden name) and their first offering was 150 cases of a mild, English-style ale called Cartwright Portland.

Coury found century-old beer beer-making recipes in “beautiful, old brewing textbooks” in the stacks of the Multnomah County Library. He also made Legal Lager and Deliverance Ale, the latter an attempt to raise money to keep the business open. The beer was nearly $1 per bottle, which was more than customers expected to pay; but the price point wasn’t the issue, the inconsistency was. Although Cartwright closed in 1981, it roused consumers’ appetite for a locally made, small-batch beer, but it also inspired the brewers who came a few years later.

The mid to late 1980s were an exciting time for Oregon Beer.

Richard and Nancy Ponzi, also winemakers, opened Columbia River Brewing (later called BridgePort) and brothers Kurt and Rob opened Widmer Brewing (they added “Brothers” to the company’s name a few years later). Karl Ockert, a recent UC Davis graduate with a degree in winemaking, joined the Ponzis summer 1983 at their vineyard. He and Ponzi were interested in beer and began planning a brewery and portfolio of ales. One became their namesake: BridgePort Ale. Others followed: the award-winning BridgePort India Pale Ale, Blue Heron Pale Ale (named after Portland's official city bird), and a barley wine named "Old Knucklehead." BridgePort was acquired by The Gambrinus Company, owned by Carlos Alvarez, in 1995. Brewery operations ceased in February 2019, and the brew pub closed the next month.

Kurt Widmer enjoyed homebrewing and full-flavored beer. After seeing Chuck Coury’s brewery he knew he had a chance at success. His brother quit his job, his father came out of retirement, and his sister in Germany joined as a partner. Their first beer was a Dusseldorf-style Alt and in 1986, they introduced their "Hefeweizen" to America. Rather than a traditional Hefeweizen characterized by distinctive yeast flavors, this was an unfiltered version of their existing wheat beer (Weizenbier) and used Cascade hops. They served it with a slice of lemon to accentuate the citrus flavors of the Cascade hops. In 2007, Redhook Ale Brewery and Widmer Brothers merged to form a new company called Craft Brewers Alliance, which was later renamed as Craft Brew Alliance. In January 2019, Widmer Brothers Brewing closed its taproom after 22 years. In November, 2019 Anheuser-Busch purchased the remainder of CBA.

Fred Bowman started homebrewing after receiving a “How To” guide from high school friend Jim Goodwin, who was also a talented jazz musician. They brewed test batches in Bowman’s basement and were soon joined by high school friend Art Larrance. In 1984, Bowman and Larrance had a franchise agreement for Portland Brewing Company to produce Bert Grant’s Scottish Ale and Russian Imperial Stout and had leased the 58-year-old Holly Farms creamery building in Portland, but they needed more money before they could open. The two raised $125,000 with a common stock offering and leased equipment from Imperial Leading in Lake Oswego. “Mac” MacTarnahan invested $25,000 and in 1992 they named MacTarnahan’s Pale Ale after him; it became the Portland Brewing’s flagship brew. By 1998 the company was in financial trouble, and that year MacTarnahan bought $3.5 million in debt in exchange for stock. Portland Brewing Company merged with Saxer Brewing Company of Lake Oswego in 2000. In 2004, MacTarnahan, then 88 years old, sold the company to Pyramid Breweries of Seattle. In 2008, Pyramid was acquired by Magic Hat Brewing Company, which was subsequently bought by North American Breweries and then by the Costa Rican company Florida Ice & Farm Company.

McMenamins is famous for brewpubs, music, and hotels. Many of their locations are in rehabilitated historical properties and at last nine are on the National Register of Historic Places. McMenamins was founded by brothers Mike and Brian McMenamin, who grew up in northeast Portland, Oregon. Their influence began in 1974 with the opening of Produce Row Café, which soon made a name as one of Portland's first bars devoted to quality imports and craft beer. Don Younger’s Horse Brass Pub, which opened in 1976, was also an essential component in increasing consumer access and awareness of imported and local beer, as well as provided a community space to share beer experiences. In 1985, the McMenamins opened Oregon’s first brewpub in the Southwest Portland neighborhood of Hillsdale with brew master Carlos Santos. They didn’t adhere to a style and their beers were often unsettling to brewing traditionalists; they used ingredients like blackberries, apples, blueberries, spices, and candy bars. Their first theater pub, and the first in Oregon, was the Mission Theater & Pub (1987). The company then entered the broader hospitality business starting in 1990, when they converted a 74-acre site (that at one time served as the Multnomah County Poor Farm) into McMenamins Edgefield.

One major event that impacted the trajectory of the beer industry in Oregon in the 1980s was legislation that married production and sales.

Before 1985, brewpubs were essentially illegal in Oregon. The state’s post-Prohibition laws said alcohol manufacture and retail could not occur on the same premises; instead, breweries had to work with a third-party distributor to add taps and sell their product. Bowman, Larrance, the Ponzis, the Widmers, and the McMenamin were instrumental in lobbying to legalize the marriage of production and on-site sales.

In early 1985 House Bill 2284 proposed a brewery-public house license that would allow the brewing and selling of malt beverages at the same location; however, wholesale beer suppliers feared new brewpubs would cut into business and launched a counter campaign. On May 9, 1985 HB 2284 was tabled and died. The second bill, SB 813, proposed a bed and breakfast license to permit the sale of beer and wine, as well as a brewery-public house license for manufacturers producing less than 25,000 barrels of malt beverage. On July 13, 1985, Governor Vic Atiyeh signed Senate Bill 813, the “Brewpub Bill,” into law. It allowed brewers to make and sell beer on the same premises, key for increasing revenue and gaining new customers.

Although growth over the next 10 years was slow, throughout the 1980s, four other breweries opened in other parts of the state: Full Sail Brewing (Hood River) and Oregon Trail Brewery (Corvallis) in 1987, and Deschutes Brewery (Bend) and Rogue Ales (originally in Ashland) in 1988. Portland has always had the largest concentration of breweries and Central Oregon has seen exceptional growth, but breweries have opened in new areas to attract diverse consumers. Examples include Calapooia (1993, Albany), Cascade Lakes Brewing Company (1994, Redmond), Terminal Gravity (1996, Enterprise), Barley Brown’s (1998, Baker City), Walkabout Brewing (1997, Medford), Ninkasi (2006, Eugene), Fort George (2007, Astoria), and Block 15 (2008, Corvallis).

A maturing industry needed skilled brewers and since its establishment in 1995, Oregon State University’s Fermentation Science program in the Food Science and Technology department has led brewer education. Homebrew clubs and organizations around Oregon have also provided training for future professionals. Founded in Portland in 1979, the Oregon Brew Crew is one of the oldest and largest home brewing clubs in the United States; it is appropriate that their meetings are held at F.H. Steinbart, a homebrew shop founded in 1918 and the oldest in the country. Other pioneering clubs include the Heart of the Valley Homebrewers (1982, Corvallis) and the Cascade Brewers Society (1982, Eugene).

The Oregon Brewers Guild fills an important role as a non-profit advocate for the state’s breweries; founded in 1992, it is one of the nation's oldest craft brewer associations. Two other important organizations to support increased gender equity in brewing started in Oregon. The Pink Boots Society was founded in 2007 by Teri Fahrendorf, former brewmaster at Steelhead Brewing in Eugene, as a professional organization to support women in the brewing industries. In 2011, Pink Boots members created Barley’s Angels as an educational community for consumers; it became its own organization in 2012.

In addition to more breweries to choose from, consumers had other ways to engage with beer. The Oregon Homebrew Festival, established in 1982, is the Pacific Northwest’s oldest homebrew competition; others followed, including the KLCC Brewfest Homebrew Competition and SheBrew. The Oregon Brewers Festival (established 1988) is one of the nation’s longest running and largest craft beer festivals; others throughout the state include the Portland Craft Beer Festival, the Festival of Dark Arts in Astoria, Bend Brewfest, and Mt. Angel's Oktoberfest.

The increasing popularity of homebrewing and accessibility of imported beers certainly had an impact on the preferences and palates of consumers, as did writing about beer in the public press. Fred Eckhardt was a well-known advocate, critic, educator, mentor, and historian, and his written work on beer and brewing encouraged generations of people to think about beer in new ways. Inspired by a 1972 visit to Anchor Steam Brewery, Eckhardt became an avid proponent of tasteful, complex craft brews. He urged people to focus on flavor, style, and experience in the Oregonian, and also wrote regular articles in national industry publications like Celebrator Beer News and All About Beer. He rose to prominence with his 1970 A Treatise on Lager Beers, a guide to homebrewing and the evolution of lager beer, and 1989 The Essentials of Beer Style.

The Oregon Hops and Brewing Archives acquired his papers in 2015, and I feel incredibly lucky to have had the opportunity to preserve and provide access to materials that document such important moments in this history.

In more recent years, as print publications have folded, blogs, podcasts, and news aggregate sites have dominated Oregon beer news and information. Reporting about the beer industry has changed a lot in the past year, and I am grateful that there are still web sites like New School Beer and Brewpublic, as well as notable journalists and authors like Jeff Alworth, Denny Conn, and John Abernathy reporting on local issues.

Electronic, paper, oral histories? I’m interested in collecting all the things that document the industry. In the last year we’ve added collections from the Oregon Brewers Guild, Widmer Brothers Brewing, the Pink Boots Society and Barleys Angels.

We have Fred Eckhardt’s papers, as well as Denny Conns and a collection of research materials from Pete Dunlop. Other collections include Master Brewers of America District Northwest Chapter Records, the Oregon Hop Growers Association, and scanned collections from both Fred Bowman and Art Larrance.

Find a list of all collections and oral histories on the OHBA guide.

#oregon beer history #beer history #oregon beer

1 note · View note

lilyvandersteen · 5 years ago

Text

Out of the Blue: Chapter 8

Cover Art: @redheadgleek

Beta extraordinaire: @hkvoyage

Links: AO3, FF.net

Author’s Note:

Another big confrontation... And this time around, Kurt is in the wrong.

Chapter 8: Wedding Snags

“When those dances were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation with her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind; Charlotte tried to console her:

"I dare say you will find him very agreeable."

"Heaven forbid! THAT would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom on is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil."”

(An excerpt from Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen)

The preparations for Sam and Mercedes’ wedding brought Kurt back to Ohio several times. While dress-shopping with Mercedes, Kurt bumped into Chandler, who now worked at a bridal store, apparently.

“That’s great, that’s great,” Kurt babbled, not really knowing what to say to a sort of ex-boyfriend, even if they’d never had that official status.

Chandler’s expression darkened into a scowl. “Not really great. But it will do. For now.”

“Of course, of course. It’s good to see you again!”

That brought a smile to Chandler’s face again, and he kept up a steady stream of prattle while he flitted around fetching all sorts of wedding dresses for Mercedes to try on.

He didn’t seem to have a good eye, though. The dresses he chose were all wrong for Mercedes’ body type, and too small as well.

Kurt decided not to put Mercedes through the ordeal of putting on outfits that wouldn’t fit her anyway, and invented an emergency at his father’s shop to be able to leave the store at once.

“Is your father okay?” Mercedes asked.

“He’s fine,” Kurt assured her. “I just wanted to get out of that store. The clerk didn’t have a clue what would look good on you.”

“It seemed like… Was it someone you knew?”

Kurt sighed. “Yes. We dated when I was still in high school.”

“Ooooh! How come you never told me about this boyfriend of yours?”

“We were never boyfriends. We just went on two dates, and it never went anywhere. We got along, but there was no spark, you know?”

Mercedes nodded. “Funny that you’ve run into him again now. Maybe this time around, it will work?”

Kurt shrugged. “I doubt it. His fashion sense leaves much to be desired, and his compliments are rather stale.”

Chandler kept turning up like a bad penny, though. They didn’t go to the dress store again, Kurt having decided to design and make Mercedes’ dress himself, but Chandler was at the bakery they went to for taste-testing, because apparently his parents were celebrating their 25th anniversary and were turning it into a big party. He was at the flower shop they ordered the arrangement for the church in, choosing flowers for his parents’ anniversary bash. He was at the restaurant Mercedes had chosen to cater the wedding reception and dinner, vacillating between the fish or meat option, because his mother preferred the one and his father the other.

Each time, he turned to Kurt to help him choose, smiling at him and praising his taste. Kurt’s answering smiles were a little stiff, and he always excused himself as fast as he could.

The night of the rehearsal dinner, Kurt ran into Chandler again at the restaurant. He wasn’t alone this time. Blaine Anderson was with him, of all people, and seemed to have a hissy fit.

Kurt knew what it felt to be on the receiving end of that, and came to Chandler’s rescue, though he didn’t enjoy the liberties Chandler took as a result – taking his arm and calling him pet names.

He saw that Blaine had wine stains on his clothes, and took that to be the reason for his foul mood, so he explained how to get the stains out and advised Blaine to get on with it before they dried in.

Blaine took that to heart and disappeared at a run.

“Phew,” said Chandler.

“What was he angry about?” Kurt asked.

“Me bumping into him,” Chandler said. “We used to date, you see, and then he got tired of me, and he didn’t just dump me, he got his brother to fire me as well. Blackened my character and everything.”

Kurt’s mouth fell open in shock. “Really?”

Chandler nodded, his face grim. “Really. Can’t get a decent job anywhere because of him. So promise me you’ll never date him, no matter how much money he throws at you. Because when he gets bored, he’ll get rid of you, and you’ll be the one picking up the pieces.”

“I think I can safely promise you that,” Kurt said, his lips a thin line. “The way he treated you was horrible!”

Chandler shrugged. “Karma will bite him in the ass one day. Well, I’ll let you get back to the rehearsal dinner. See you around, sweetie!”

Kurt was halfway back to his table when it occurred to him that Chandler had no way of knowing he was here for Sam and Mercedes’ rehearsal dinner. Unless he had been eavesdropping. That was a bit unsettling. He’d wanted to share his piece of juicy gossip about Blaine Anderson with Mercedes straight away, but now decided to wait until they were alone together.

Mercedes had been planning to spend her last night as an unmarried woman with her parents, but during dinner, Kurt and Rachel had been able to convince her to come to the Hudmel house instead, for a sleepover.

While Kurt braided Rachel’s hair, he told them Chandler’s story.

Mercedes pursed her lips. “Are you sure he told you the truth? I mean, Sam has worked with Blaine several times now, and he says he’s such a nice guy. Works harder than anyone else, fixes any problem in a jiffy, treats everyone the same from the lowest intern to the big boss. Sam hasn’t heard a bad word about him from anyone who works with him.”

“Maybe they don’t dare criticize him,” Kurt suggested. “He’s the big boss’s brother, remember?”

Mercedes shrugged.

Rachel let out a giggle. “You’ve had it out for him ever since his rant at the Brittana wedding. And he APOLOGISED for that.”

“Still a dick move,” Kurt grumbled, but he let it drop.

The morning of the wedding dawned cool but bright, and Kurt hummed as he made some last-minute adjustments to the dress. A plate of no-drip, no-stain snacks stood next to him, and at regular intervals, he fed Mercedes a snack and took one for himself, too.

When he had pronounced the dress perfect, Mercedes’ cousin Alma took over, to do the bride’s and the bridesmaids’ hair and make-up, and Kurt slipped into the garden for fresh flowers. Mercedes’ mother was paying a florist to decorate the church, but Kurt had offered to do the bouquets and the boutonnières.

When he arrived back in the living room with the flowers, Mercedes sat on the sofa, looking at her phone and worrying her lower lip.

“Not having seconds thoughts, are you?” Kurt teased her, but if anything, her frown deepened.

“I’d silenced my phone so as not to be disturbed. And now I’ve just looked at it and my mom called me. Five times. And left voice-mails telling me to call back asap. Which I did, but I can’t reach her. What on earth is the matter?”

Kurt patted her arm. “You let ME worry about it, okay? Turn that frown upside down and think of nothing but marrying Sam. Your mom’s at the church, I take it? Checking the flower arrangements and such? I’ll go there at once and handle whatever snag your mom has hit. I promise.”

Mercedes nodded and smiled hesitantly.

“I’ll do the bouquets and boutonnières,” Carole offered.

“And if necessary, I can take them all to church,” Burt promised. “We still have lots of time to get there anyway. You go and deal with the problem, Kurt.”

That was all the encouragement Kurt needed to hurry to the church, where he found Sam in an old T-shirt and jeans with holes in it, scrubbing a swastika from one of the pews, and a teary Mrs. Jones being comforted by Cooper, of all people. When she told Kurt what had upset her, he blanched. Somehow, in less than 24 hours, all their careful planning had been torn to shreds. There had been a fire at the restaurant where the reception and dinner was to take place, so now they had no food nor venue. The church had been broken into and vandalized. Mercedes’ family and friends were cleaning everything up as best they could, but the flower arrangements were destroyed beyond repair. Mike, the best man, had disappeared, and with him the rings. And in front of the church, instead of well-wishers, there were two dozen bigoted idiots who were protesting against the wedding about to take place, because it was a white man marrying a black woman, and it didn’t do to mix races and sully one’s blood.

Kurt rolled his eyes at that. “That’s bogus. We’re all humans. The same race. Colour has nothing to do with it.”

“Yes, that’s all very well to say, but how do we get them to leave?” Mrs. Jones wailed.

Just then, two buses arrived. Out of them stepped about a dozen men clad in riot gear and armed to the teeth. They started herding the protesters onto the buses, and left with them after just a few minutes.

“That’s one problem sorted,” Cooper said cheerfully. “We’ll fix the rest too, don’t you worry about a thing, Mrs. Jones!”

“Flowers,” Kurt said. “I can do the flowers, no problem. It won’t be as grand as what the florist had planned, but it’ll look great nonetheless, I promise. Sam, Cooper, you’ll help once I get back?”

He didn’t wait for an answer but hurried to his car and headed home, where he assured Mercedes everything was under control, except that there had been a mishap with the flowers, and now they needed more. He stripped the garden of its flowers, put them into a few pails of water and ransacked his sewing supplies for ribbons. He also collected all the vases they had.

When he’d found everything he needed, he raced back to the church, and instructed Sam and Cooper to start tying roses to the pews, which thankfully were too sturdy to have been destroyed. They had been graffitied, but Mercedes’ family and friends had gotten most of it off, and had camouflaged the rest with a shimmery gauzy fabric. Silver. Perfect. Carole’s biggest vase was silver too, and Kurt would be using it to decorate the altar.

He carefully compiled a big bouquet for the altar and a few smaller ones to put in front of the lecterns. Then he inspected the arch at the church entrance. The wooden structure was chipped but still sound. The flowers, however, had been viciously shredded.

“Mrs. Jones, is there any more of that silver fabric? I’d put it over the arch and then pin the rest of my flowers onto it.”

Half an hour later, the church looked splendid again.

“What are we going to do about the best man and the rings, though?” he asked Sam.

“We have a back-up guy,” Sam smiled, “and he found us rings, too.”

Kurt hummed thoughtfully. “That leaves the food and a venue for the reception and the dinner. Where are we going to find that at such short notice?”

Sam clapped Kurt on the back. “No worries, man, the minister offered us the use of his garden, which is huge, apparently, and the whole church community is helping out, bringing chairs and tables and string lights and decorations and food and everything else we need. It’s all going to be all right!”

Kurt let out a deep breath and thanked his lucky stars for close-knit communities saving the day.

When Mercedes entered the church a few hours later, looking beyond gorgeous and glowing with happiness, Kurt wiped away a tear and blew her a kiss as she passed him. As he turned around to face the altar, though, he got a nasty shock. He hadn’t been paying much attention to Sam and his groomsmen, but now he saw that the back-up best man was none other than Blaine Anderson.

What on earth was HE doing here? Yes, Kurt had sent the Anderson brothers an invite, but what on earth did Blaine think he was doing, integrating himself into the wedding party?

Right at that moment, Blaine seemed to feel Kurt’s eyes on him. He looked straight at Kurt, nodded and smiled.

Kurt, still outraged at how Blaine had treated Chandler, shot him a glare and looked away to the minister, boiling inside.

He determinedly did not look Blaine’s way again throughout the ceremony, and hurried out of the church to the minister’s garden as soon as it was over.

As promised, the church community had turned the garden into a festive wonderland, and they’d set up an entire buffet of snacks and salads next to two barbecue grills. The wedding cake had arrived, too, and looked pristine and perfect.

“Dibs on this grill!” said a loud voice behind him, and Kurt shook his head with a grin as he saw Burt accept an apron from one of the women who’d be serving the buffet and inspect the contents of the cooler box.

“No red meat for you, Dad!” Kurt reminded him. “Remember what the doctor said!”

“Spoilsport,” Burt grumbled. “Just a teensy piece? Since this is a festive occasion and all?”

Kurt laughed. “All right, then, a teensy piece. I’ll tell Carole to check if it really is teensy!”

Soon, the party was well on its way. Everyone had enjoyed the impromptu barbecue, and now a band had arrived out of nowhere, and all the invitees were singing along and dancing and having a great time.

At Mercedes’ insistence, Kurt was telling her about all the problems they’d had to solve earlier that day, and she gasped and teared up a little.

Kurt was quick to dab the moisture away, “Your mascara, girl!”, and to comfort her. “Everything has turned out fine, hasn’t it? Thank heavens for your church community. They’ve worked wonders here! And everything else was dealt with satisfactorily. Well, except for Blaine Anderson being Sam’s replacement best man. Really? That rude, obnoxious ass? Don’t know why he’s always in a huff about something and throwing tantrums like a toddler or biting people’s noses off, but I’m far from impressed with his attitude. He needs to GROW UP. And seriously, after all that guy did, couldn’t Sam have chosen someone better?”

Someone cleared their throat behind them. They both turned their heads, and Kurt felt his cheeks heat up when he saw that it was Blaine. Had he heard Kurt bad-mouthing him?

“May I have this dance?” Blaine asked with a little bow, holding out his hand to Kurt expectantly.

Taken off guard, Kurt stammered, “Yeah. Sure.”

It was out before Kurt knew it, and there was no way of taking it back, seeing as Blaine took him firmly by the waist and whirled him away at once, beaming as he did so.

“That was a lovely ceremony, wasn’t it?” Blaine said a little later.

“It was,” Kurt agreed. “I’m not religious, but the minister said a lot of things that resonated with me. Yeah. I liked it.”

Blaine smiled at him again, his expression so disarming and charming that Kurt felt short of breath for a moment and had to remind himself of all the reprehensible things Blaine had done so as not to smile back besottedly.

The song changed, but Blaine showed no intention of letting Kurt go, leading him expertly and catching him any time Kurt stumbled over his own feet.

“Mercedes looks gorgeous in that dress,” Blaine said next. “It suits her so well.”

“Thank you. I made it.”

“Well, you’re an absolute wizard with a needle, then.”

Kurt giggled, and then covered his mouth with his hand in horror. Blaine didn’t seem to have noticed, though. He was looking pensive now.

“Why did you glare at me during the ceremony?”

Kurt’s chin went up. “You don’t deserve to be Sam’s best man.”

Blaine quirked an eyebrow. “Did you want that position?”

“What? No! I just mean, after what you did to Britts and San at their wedding, and after the despicable way you’ve treated Chandler, you don’t deserve to be anywhere near Sam, who is sweetness itself and deserves better than a cold-hearted, mean-spirited guy as his best man.”

Blaine had stopped moving now, and let go of Kurt. “Cold-hearted? Mean-spirited? After how I treated Chandler? Don’t you have that the wrong way round? Don’t you know what he did?”

Kurt scoffed. “What did he do to deserve you destroying his chances of ever finding a job again? Bite your dick while he was sucking it?”

Silence fell. Kurt noticed that people were looking at the both of them, and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably.

Blaine’s face was a cold mask now. “I’ve no idea what lies he told you, but you’re wide off the mark. We had good reasons to fire him.”

“Like what?”

“Like that he tried to kill you!”

Blaine turned around and stalked off, leaving behind a gaping Kurt.

What?!!

#bbb2020 #blaine big bang 2020 #klaine fanfiction #my fic #out of the blue

4 notes · View notes

madpanda75 · 6 years ago

Note

I've got a twofer for you 73: “ Oh, Are you ticklish? ” and 182: “ Ive wanted this for so long. ” the concept is that Rafael has a girlfriend who is a virgin and she finally decides that she wants to lose it on Valentine's day

Thanks for your request, sweetie!! I hope you like this, I had a lot fun writing it! ❤️🥰 Sorry I’m a little late with this since Valentine’s Day.

Warning: NSFW

“The First Night”

Rafael stood behind you, playfully dropping kisses on your neck while lightly prodding your sides.

“Raf! Stop!” You said in a fit of laughter, trying to squirm away and focus on putting the final touches on your ropa vjeja.

“Oh, are you ticklish?” He asked, continuing his assault.

“You know I am. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go open a bottle of wine. Dinner’s almost ready,” you winked at your boyfriend.

Rafael sighed in defeat, “Ok, but only because I’m hungry.” He kissed your lips once more before grabbing the merlot, uncorking the bottle and pouring two glasses just as you placed the food on the table.

It was Valentine’s Day, a day where romantic restaurants all over Manhattan were jam packed with couples celebrating their love. Rather than fight the crowds and be inundated with nylon red balloons and cheesy pink hearts, you opted to invite Rafael over for a quiet night in. You had even gotten his abuela’s ropa vjeja recipe for the occasion.

Rafael moaned around a mouthful of food, “Y/N, this is amazing.”

“Really?” You had gone to three different supermarkets to get the ingredients for the dish. Having never cooked Cuban food before, you wanted the meal to be perfect.

“Don’t tell my mom, and I’ll deny it if you ever do, but this is better than hers.”

You beamed with pride, “I promise I won’t tell.”

Rafael and you had only been together for 6 months but never in your life had you felt so connected to another human being. It was as if you both had known each other your entire lives.

For him, you were like a breath of fresh air. Having had his heart broken before, he had closed that chapter of his life, believing he would never find love again, until he met you.

After dinner, you watched as Rafael lovingly fingered the pages of the book you had gotten him for Valentine’s Day. It was a first edition copy of Slaughterhouse Five signed by Kurt Vonnegut.

“Do you like your present?”

Rafael took your hand and smiled brightly at you, “I love it, cariño. Thank you so much. Where did you even find this?”

“I have my ways,” you smirked. “Happy Valentine’s Day, mi amor.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mi vida. I love you,” he leaned over, placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I love you too,” you softly said.

Just as you were about to clean up from dinner, the lights in your apartment flickered for a few seconds before going out completely. “What the hell?” You said, standing in your kitchen, flicking the light switch on and off.

“Must be a power outage,” Rafael looked out the window, noticing the building across the street was also dark. “Do you have any candles?”

“Yeah, in the hallway closet,” you replied.

As Rafael lit some candles, you checked with your landlord. She confirmed there was an outage that was affecting your block and the power company was working on the situation as quickly as possible.

When you came back into your apartment you gasped at the scene before you. Piles of blankets and pillows laid on your living room floor, candles covered the end tables and coffee table, their soft light casting a romantic glow.

Rafael sat in the middle of the impromptu oasis he had created, smiling at you, “Is it too much?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s perfect.”

He patted the spot next to him, motioning you over. You happily obliged, laying your legs over his, kissing him deeply.

After a moment, he pulled away, “You know I never got the chance to give you your present.” Reaching into his pocket, he took out a small red velvet pouch, placing it in your hand. Rafael watched you open the pouch, pulling out a key. “It’s a key to my apartment. I know it’s only been 6 months, but I was hoping you would want to move in with me.”

You stared at him, utterly speechless, your lease was up in a month so it was perfect timing. “Yes! Yes, of course I’ll move in with you, ” you broke out into a brilliant smile before lunging at him, causing him to fall backwards with you in his arms.

He held you close, laughing against your lips as he kissed you. The kiss quickly began to gain momentum, his hands roaming your form. He rolled over so you were beneath him, his tongue brushing up against your own. You softly moaned, tugging on his bottom lip, your leg hooking around his hip. He whimpered, nipping at your jawline.

“Rafael, make love to me,” you whispered breathlessly.

As soon as those words escaped your lips, he stopped, knowing that you were a virgin and the weight that simple request carried. You had been seriously contemplating giving him your virginity, deciding that tonight would be the night you took your relationship to the next level.

Men balked when you dropped the big V-bomb on them, all but sprinting out the door. It was always the same story, they would lament that sex is a critical part of a relationship. While you agreed that sex was important, it wasn’t the only component of a relationship. You wanted to wait until you were in love, truly, deeply in love to share that part of you, that physical intimacy with someone.

After you first told Rafael about your virgin state, you promptly showed him to the door, expecting him to flee just like the others. Instead you were surprised to discover that he shared your sentiments about wanting to wait until you were in love to have sex. He was incredibly patient and sweet, allowing you to set the pace as you both got to know each other better.

With Rafael, you wanted him to see all of you. There was a deep rooted connection between you both, a love that made you feel safe to be vulnerable and exposed. It was a love like no other, one that neither of you had experienced until now.

He looked down at you with his hypnotic green eyes, gently stroking your cheek, “Are you sure? Just because I asked you to move in with me….I don’t want you to feel pressured into this.”

“Of course I’m sure. I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve waited for so long,” you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair as you pulled him into a feverish kiss. “I want you,” you purred against his mouth.

“You have me. I’m yours, mi amor,” he groaned.

Rafael moved to stand up. Taking your hands, he helped to get you to your feet, gifting you a slow sensual kiss, pulling you flush to his body. You melted into his touch, your tongue seeking entrance into the warm confines of his mouth.

He hummed against your lips, his hands sliding down your back to cup your ass and lift you into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him hard as he carried you to the bedroom.

Your heart was beating so fast, it was practically pounding out of your chest when he set you down at the foot of the bed. “This is real. This is actually happening,” you thought to yourself.

Rafael cupped your face, sensing that you were anxious. “Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You softly smiled, “I know, but I want to. I’m just nervous.”

He placed tender kisses on your face and leaned his forehead against yours, “I’m nervous too. We’ll go slow.” Kissing you again, his fingers brushed under your shirt before tugging it off your body. His hands moving around to unsnap your bra. “Is this ok?” He asked.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Rafael lowered your bra straps, taking a minute to drink you in. Dipping his head down, he placed a kiss on your pulse point, before tracing your collarbone with his tongue.

Your breath hitched. Rubbing your thighs together, you could feel your desire for him begin to get stronger. Your fingers trembled as you began to unbutton his shirt. Rafael’s chest rose and fell rapidly, watching you push the shirt off his shoulders. You ran your hands across his bare chest, running your fingers through his chest hair, feeling his muscles tighten under your touch.

Your palm rested over his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was beating, matching the same rapid pace as yours. You looked up into his eyes and pulled him into a hungry kiss. His lips moved over yours more insistently as his fingertips trailed down your ribcage towards the waistband of your skirt.

You moaned, your tongues dancing with each other as you blindly searched for the button to his slacks. While you were working on ridding him of his pants, he unzipped your skirt, pushing it off your frame. Rafael moved to gently lay you on the bed. Hovering above you, he kissed down the column of your throat.

“Rafael,” you whimpered, arching your hips up, grinding into his erection. This was the farthest you had ever gone with a man. In the past you were always too scared and unsure to take it any further, but not tonight. Laying in Rafael’s arms, you had never been so sure of anything in your life.

A fire began to burn deep in your belly, your flesh becoming heated when you stopped, “Rafael, the candles!” He stared down at you in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. “In the other room, we left them burning,” you explained, afraid that your living room would be engulfed in flames.

A realization spread to his face, ‘Don’t move. I’ll get them.” He scurried out of the room, almost tripping over the discarded clothes on the floor as he hurried to blow out the candles in the living room. You let out a long sigh and closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of the city outside your window. The sirens, the horns, the sounds of people living their everyday lives, it was soothing, an urban lullaby.

Rafael came back into the room. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you laying on the bed, eyes closed, hair fanned out on the sheets, the moonlight casting a glow on your figure. You looked like an angel.

“My God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered with a lustful look in his eyes.

You opened your eyes and sat up on the bed, pulling down his boxer briefs, freeing his caged erection. Your eyes widened when you saw his hard cock, a drop of precum oozing from his slit. “You’re so big,” you blurted out.

He blushed and snorted a laugh, “Thank you.”

“I can’t believe I just said that,” you covered your face in embarrassment, only to have him gently pull your hands away, peppering your face in adoring kisses.

“Don’t be embarrassed. Tonight is about you. I want to make you feel good,” he softly said, stroking your cheek. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you said, kissing him slow and sweet, laying back, bringing him down on top of you. Tentatively, you reached down and wrapped your hand around him, he felt hot and heavy in your grip. He moaned, nibbling on your neck as you stroked his cock, rubbing his precum up and down his shaft. You moved a little faster, tightening your hold on him, experimentally, adding a twist with every downward stroke.

“Oh fuck, cariño,” he groaned, arching his hips into your touch. He kissed you, growling against your mouth, gently tugging on your bottom petal.

On your own accord, you spread your legs for him. His lips began a fiery trail down your body. He cupped your breast, blowing cool air on your nipple. Watching it harden under his command, he circled your areola with his tongue before taking it into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the hardened bud. You gasped, writhing under his touch, arching your back as he repeated his actions on the other breast.

He continued to leave wet open mouth kisses down your stomach as the backs of his fingers slid up the side of your legs towards your hips, “Your skin is so soft,” he purred, dragging his tongue across your bikini line. He settled himself in between your legs, groaning when he saw the dark wet patch of arousal that had soaked through your panties. Kissing the juncture where your hip and thigh met, his head was centimeters away from your lace covered labia.

You laid back on the bed, taking in large gulps of air, desperate for his touch. “Raf…please touch me,” you begged.

He ran his nose up your slit, inhaling deeply, tugging your panties off and tossing them aside. The heady scent of your wet sex made his cock twitch with excitement.

“You smell delicious,” he purred, spreading your lower lips, exposing your glistening pink pearl to him, his hand lightly stroking the quivering soft flesh. Dipping his head, he placed a kiss right on your clit before pulling the nub deep into the depths of his mouth.

You practically jumped off the bed, never having experienced the sensation of someone’s mouth on your sensitive feminine parts.

“Try to relax, cariño,” Rafael said, kissing your inner thigh. You nodded your head and laid back, losing yourself in the thralls of ecstasy.

Rafael licked a broad stripe up your slit, sucking on your labia, the wet squelch of his actions filled the room. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you moaned and arched your hips. He traced your entrance with his tongue, flicking against it rapidly, groaning as your sweet taste flooded his mouth, the vibrations shooting right through your core. You draped your legs over his shoulders, trying to pull him closer.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watched him make love to your pussy with his mouth. His eyes met yours as he massaged your bundle of nerves, moaning against you. Your cheeks tinged bright pink, breath coming in heavy pants. Watching him pleasure you was the most erotic and sensual experience of your life.

“Please…more,” you sobbed, tangling your fingers in his hair. He wound his arms around your thighs, nodding his head between your legs, his chin coated in your arousal. “Oh Raf! You make me so wet, I can’t stand it,” you blushed at your words. What was this man doing to you?

Rafael smirked and brought a finger under his chin, slowly plunging it into your sheath, your arousal allowing it to easily slide in. He continued stimulating your clit, your muscles relaxing against his digit before slowly sliding it in and and out of your opening.

“Fuck,” you whined, the sensation of his large finger pumping into your center left you wanting more.

“Does that feel good?” He asked in a husky voice, watching as you began to move against him.

“Yes…oh God..yes,” you moaned. Rafael increased his suction on your clit, adding another finger, thrusting them in and out of you, mimicking the way he would fuck you with his cock.

Unable to keep your head up, you collapsed on the bed, your eyes slipping close, mouth open in an “o” form as your muscles pulled him in deeper, your body rocking back and forth against him. He pulled his fingers out of you, turning them towards him and plunging back in, crooking them upward in a come hither motion, wiggling them against your g-spot.

Your walls fluttered against him, tension building in the pit of of your stomach. Your moans were louder and more high pitched. Rafael was relentless, working his fingers inside you while gently nibbling on your clit, moaning and groaning. One final stroke and you were coming hard, a low guttural moan escaping your throat. Arching your back, you tugged hard on his hair, every muscle in your body contracting. Rafael hummed, licking you through your release, slowly pulling his fingers out.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, trying to calm yourself from such an intense orgasm. “You’ve got quite a mouth on you.”

Rafael chuckled and kissed his way back up your body. Craning your neck up, you kissed him hard, moaning when you tasted yourself on his tongue. You whimpered, feeling his rock hard erection brush up against your thigh. “Y/N, I need you,” he softly said against your lips. “Oh damn…umm I don’t have any condoms,” he froze and looked down at you apologetically.

“Don’t worry I have some,” you smiled and reached over into your nightstand, pulling out the biggest box of condoms Rafael had ever seen.

“Wow….”some” is an understatement. I’m shocked and incredibly happy all at the same time,” he said.

“I like to be prepared,” you giggled and handed him one.

He nuzzled his nose against yours, “One of the many reasons why I love you.” Ripping the condom packet open, he rolled the rubber onto his member. Rafael hovered above you, his eyes filled with love and adoration, “I’ll be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Tears filled your eyes, gazing up at the man you loved. “Its ok, mi amor. I trust you, ” you tilted your head to kiss his forearm framing your face.

Rafael ran his cock up and down your slit, collecting your wetness before he pushed his crown against your entrance. You gasped, your eyes widening as you experienced this new sensation.

“Hold onto me, cariño. I’ve got you,” he whispered breathlessly.

Your nails dug into his skin, leaving half moon indentations. He pushed further until he was halfway inside you, stroking your hair, kissing over every inch of your face. Rafael leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in heavy pants, trying to calm himself. He clutched your shoulders so hard his knuckles were white. You were incredibly tight, your grip on him was beyond anything he had ever felt before. It took all his strength not to snap his hips and bury himself inside you.

After a few minutes, he slid the rest of the way in, burying his head in the crook of your neck, groaning loudly when your hips made contact. You mewled, clinging to Rafael. Your muscles stretched and strained, it felt like they would snap, trying to accommodate his large size. The fullness of his cock inside you settled into your bones. Nothing could have prepared you for that fine line you were walking between pain and pleasure.

He lifted his head, gauging your reaction, searching for any signs of discomfort in your face, “Breathe, Y/N,” he said in a strained voice. “Are you ok? Do you want me to stop?”

“No…don’t stop. Don’t ever stop,” you whispered. “Kiss me.”

He kissed you fervently, licking into your mouth. After several minutes he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock remained inside you before gently pushing back in. He shivered as he began to move against you, feeling your walls clench around him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned.

“So do you,” you whimpered, your body beginning to yield to him, the smell of his cologne mixed with sweat was enough to drive you wild with lust.

Heavy breathing and pleasure filled moans filled the air as he quickened his pace. “Please more,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.

Kissing your lips over and over again, he grunted against your mouth, thrusting into you a little harder, still trying to be as gentle as possible. He moved his hand between your bodies, rubbing circles over your clit. You cried out in ecstasy, your nails scratching down his back, “Oh God! Rafael….so good!”

He groaned, arching his hips to hit that delicious spot deep inside you, moving his fingers more insistently over your bundle of nerves. The heat coming off your joined bodies made it feel as if you were being forged in the fire. Your skin malleable under his touch, your body being pushed to the edge.

“Fuck! Please don’t stop!” You whined. Feeling close to orgasm, you covered your mouth with your hand, feeling shy about vocalizing your release.

Rafael pulled your hand away from your mouth, pinning both of your wrists above your head with his one large paw. “Don’t be ashamed. I want to hear you. Let me hear how good I make you feel,” he demanded in a husky voice. He lowered his head to suck on your nipple, his fingers rolling and pinching your clit as he moved a little faster against you.

You arched your back one final time, your orgasm all consuming, stars exploding before your eyes. “Rafael!” You screamed, falling apart beneath him. Feeling your muscles spasm and contract around him was enough to send him over the edge. He came harder than he ever had before, his lips capturing yours as he growled and groaned against your mouth.

He let go of your hands, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck, stroking you both through your release, his hips slowing to a stop. You clung to him, your body trembling, pulling him into a white hot kiss. He rested his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath, a sheen of sweat covering your bodies.

“I love you so much,” he nuzzled his nose against yours, running a hand through your hair.

“I love you too,” you whispered, tears falling down your cheeks. The emotion you felt at the moment was overwhelming. He kissed them away and held you before gently pulling out of you. Peeling off the used condom, he went to the bathroom to toss it in the trash. He settled back in bed, pulling you even closer to him, kissing your forehead, each eyelid, the tip of nose, and finally dropping a tender kiss on your lips.

“How do you feel?” He asked, his fingertips dancing up and down your spine as you both laid together.

“Sore but…in a good way,” you sighed in contentment. “I’m so happy I waited for you.”

“I’m so happy I have you in my life. Tu eres la reina de mi corazón. Te amo,” Rafael kissed the top of your head.

“Te amo tambien,” you lazily kissed his skin before moving to straddle him. “Think we could go for round two in a few minutes?”

“You read my mind, cariño,” he said with a devious smirk. “Our first night together.”

“One of many,” you purred, pulling the covers over you both, kissing him passionately. Your heart was full. Every broken relationship, every moment where you doubted you would ever find love, it all led you to Rafael, the love of your life.

@obfuscateyummy @southern-magnolia @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sweetsummertime99 @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @burningsorr0ws @katmstanton @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @eclecticminded @delia26 @glimmerglittergirl @sweetcannolicarisi @babypink224221 @amirightcounsellor @livxrafa

#rafael barba #rafael barba fic #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #barba #barba imagine #barba fic #law and order svu fic #law and order svu imagine

216 notes · View notes