cop out because i already know you ship this but LOVE hearing peoples thoughts cuz... well... we all know how i feel about them.
Shelliott <3 for the rarepair thing <3 yay
(Note that this will be the last one for tonight so I can write more tomorrow night. I just knew waiting to answer this one would drive me up the wall at work tomorrow.)
ASDLKFJ;ASDFKJ of course you suggested Shelliott. My rarepair muse that got me back into writing SDV fic in 2025, my brainworm, my beautiful Opposites Attract ship, my endless source of inspo that somehow has yet to become a published ao3 fic, RIP. I'm gonna talk about only one of many, many, MANY ideas I have about Shelliott bc the angstier ones would take a bit too long to explain and plus I don't want to spoil certain plot elements. And thus I bring you (and also @astellus who encouraged this idea in the first place): Ballroom AU Shelliott.
Picture this: Instead of growing up as a writer-to-be, Elliott displays a talent for dance. His parents enroll him into a prestigious dance school and soon he and his dance partner begin to win competitions and he's declared one of the finest dancers of his generation (for Viennese Waltz). He grows older. He tries new dance styles, mixing things up, changing routines, much to the dismay of his coach and parents. He retreats back to waltz. He gets bored and tries new styles again. Repeat ad nauseam.
At the Ferngill Republic National Championships, he freezes mid-performance. He can't do it. He can't keep doing this.
His dance partner smiles sadly at him, pats his cheek, and leads him off the dance floor.
It's no surprise to him three weeks later when she announces her retirement. "I want to have a baby, you know," she tells him. "Before it isn't possible anymore. And the dance circuit is too stressful for a pregnant lady."
He knows. On some days, the pressure to perform feels like a vice squeezing his chest, and there's nothing else outside of dance to relieve it.
Without telling his parents or his coach, he packs a suitcase, unfolds a map, and points to a spot on it blindfolded. "Very well," he says to his apartment. "Pelican Town."
Rapidly dwindling in funds, he rents the cheapest place in town, which turns out to be a shack on the beach. It looks like it will leak at the first storm, but there's something to be said for its view: The Gem Sea, turquoise and teal, waves endlessly rolling, freedom as far as the eye can see. For the first time since his childhood, Elliott feels like he can breathe.
But he still loves to dance. His practice shoes were the one bit of dance gear he refused to leave behind. Just in case.
He tries to dance alone, but it's just not the same. The movements are wrong, shaped around the ghost of a person instead of flesh and blood. "I need a new partner," he tells the flower that's slowly dying on his windowsill.
"You're Elliott St. James, and you need a new partner," says the kid who looks barely out of high school and who stalked him to the Museum. "I'm Alex, and I volunteer as tribute."
"Um," says Elliott, midway through grabbing a book. "I didn't realize I had already had those willing to audition."
Alex's eyes nearly bulge out of his skull. "Are you kidding me? You're Elliott St. James. From Dancing with the Stardrops!"
Elliott winces. He really hadn't thought about his fame following him to a place as remote as this one. "I'll think about it."
He practices South Coast Swing, a favored style of the locals, and finds that he enjoys it very much. Alex follows him around town like a lost puppy. It's amusing, but not exactly relaxing.
On a random Wednesday, he finds he is entirely out of groceries and is forced to shop at Jojamart (much to his dismay). Strolling to the aisle he needs, he reaches for a can on a shelf somehow even higher than he is, straining to grab it with his finger tips, when someone behind him yells, "Watch it!" and neatly spins him away from the danger as a pile of cans fall where he was standing.
The stranger is dressed in a Joja uniform, dark-haired, looking like death warmed over, and growling at the mess.
"I do apologize for my terrible clumsiness," Elliott says, leaning down to help him clean up. "My fault."
"S'okay," the man says, side-eyeing him with the loveliest moss-green eyes. "I'll get it." He neatly re-stacks the cans and walks away, posture needing a little work but otherwise good enough, his steps even and balanced, an ear-pleasing tap tap rhythm on the linoleum.
"That's my new dance partner," Elliott says to the soup in his hand.
Misc. shipping thoughts:
Legitimately I could 100% write this one as long as I looked up more of the professional terminology, assuming I would be writing this primarily from Elliott's POV.
Sorry there's less Shelliott interaction than I had planned when writing this but BRAINWORMS and I mostly wanted to tease this scene and also it felt very funny to include Alex here after the prior Elliott/Alex prompt lol
You know those dance flicks where a professional dancer/dance student suddenly needs a new partner and they decide Random Schmuck is the lucky person? Yeah this is exactly that sort of plot.
Shane, internally: Oh No He's Hot (and also wondering why Elliott looks sorta familiar, and the answer to that is the Dancing with the Stardrops re-runs Jas and Marnie like to watch lol.)
{Ask Game: Send me any Stardew Valley rarepairs (including non-marriage candidates) and I will tell you how I would make them work! This post has the list of asks already answered :D}