#i also have feelings about lewis as an actor and the [waves hand at Everything] as a performance

[tailingstripes]

   "How well the books are selling today, Mrs. Grimm?" I smiled, entering the bookshop I always visit every Sunday after school since the seventh grade.

"Well good afternoon, sweetheart! It's terrible!" Mrs. Grimm laughed.

I sat at the chair front of the table near the window and place my backpack beside. I look around, seeing a few people, mostly adults, open books that interested them and then they placed it back the shelf. Without buying anything from the inside, they'll leave.

Just as everyday.

I saw Mrs. Grimm walking towards me and grabbed a chair to sit on. It was a while when I noticed a newspaper she's holding.

"Interesting news?"

Mrs. Grimm's eyes narrowed. "You really know the look on my face,"

I chuckled. "Mrs. Grimm, it's written."

She laughed, just as always, a music to my ears.

Her old age, her wrinkles on the face, her wityness, the pink clip she wore in a ponytail, never fails to make me feel home.

Mrs. Grimm is my best friend's grandma, my best friend who died three years ago due to an accident that occured to a condo where she was staying at with her older brother That time I heard the news, I couldn't sleep for months. I grieved for almost a year, and until now, I know I never really moved on. But I also know that I had to go on.

"Now, now, let's see the news, sweetheart!" Mrs. Grimm was laughing, changing the subject.

I lean forward and look at the headline of the newspaper she's holding.

Clover Lewis, a rising star of the year!

My heart almost dropped, it does skip a beat, reading the headline. It's like there's something heavy in my chest, heavy and empty. I don't know, but it felt like it.

"Clover, that kid...that's why he left this town, huh? To become an artist?" Mrs. Grimm took out a scoff.

My lips formed a smile I never know I could make as I saw his face under the headline looking like a prince waving to people, with lights flashing all around him as he's on the red carpet in a black tuxedo.

"I thought it was a new news," I let out a sigh.

"Sweetheart, you knew about this? Why didn't you tell me?"

My smile faded. I slowly look down and stared at my lap. "I'm sorry, I never thought you'd like to know about him since he left this town. Besides, we have no television as you are too, Mrs. Grimm, but if I have time, I'd go over a friend's house to watch his shows or films...I..." I sighed. "Sorry, Mrs. Grimm."

Mrs. Grimm stared at me, I savour the silence between us until she smiled and spoke.

"Clover is like a grandson to me, just as you are a granddaughter to me, Asha. You two make my life brighter ever since my two grandchildren died in that accident."

Silent as I was while listening, it's starting to get loud in my head. I've only got myself to blame for not telling her.

Mrs. Grimm sighed. "Alright, tell me the reason, sweetheart. It's not like you think I'd never would've like to know about him being an actor in a big showbiz world, you know how much I'd be."

I swallowed my saliva, starting to speak. "Clover reached for bigger dreams, and I think he wouldn't like to inform people he'd known in this town that he's now successfully pursuing his career. He somehow hated this town for the reasons he wouldn't tell me...I didn't tell you because...because Mrs. Grimm, I hated him for it." A soft touch of the wind blew my hair to my cheeks as I placed it at the back of my ear. "I don't want to open a topic about him, I know I'll bring that up."

"Why would he hate this town..." Mrs. Grimm absent-mindedly asked the air.

"I asked him before he left, but he also hated me for asking. He wanted to forget everything in here, like this town never existed. Like I never existed."

"Asha, sweetheart, what happened between you two?"

I slowly lifted my head to look at Mrs. Grimm's eyes. "I don't want him to leave, Mrs. Grimm. I tried stopping him, and that's the wrong of me."

Mrs. Grimm held both of my hands, stuffing it in hers. "It's his dream, Asha. You just can't stop Clover for pursuing something. You won't want to see him regretting everything for the things he didn't do."

"I was selfish for that," I took a deep sigh.

Mrs. Grimm smiled, she touched my hair. "I'm sure he'll forgive you, Asha. It's Clover." My eyes stopped at Mrs. Grimm. "Your best friend."

"I don't know,"

I stayed for two hours in the bookshop to help her and went straight to our house. My father was cooking something, and smells like a chicken soup.

He noticed me and invited me to sit. Then he asked if I was from Mrs. Grimm's bookshop and I told him I was.

"How's Mrs. Grimm? Doing good?" Father asked, stuffing rice in his mouth.

I chuckled. "Dad, I told you to refrain yourself from speaking while eating. Didn't I tell you? And yes, Mrs. Grimm are doing good. You should visit her some time after your work."

"I'll do that, I'll do that."

The dinner table was full of laughter between us two. I can't help to think that it'll be more filled with laughter if only mom was alive.

"Big day tomorrow, sleep early!"

"Got it, you too, dad!"

I closed the door of my tiny room and squatted at the floor. I stumbled upon my old notebooks and diary. My eyes linger through every words I've written years ago as I open pages. There's words that caught my attention in the last page.

   There's something in Clover's eyes I couldn't quite explain. Should that feeling spout a word? It feels weird and exciting. It's like a glitter or spark.

My eyes narrowed. I quickly closed the notebook and breathe, I feel like panicking when I should not. I placed the notebook inside the drawer but it just leads to another thing I would revisit through my memories.

A picture dropped.

A picture where it all started.

Me and him.

#writing prompt #oneshot #taylor swift #fanfic #dorotheataylorswift #bloomiepaige #Spotify

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

god but the implications of what the deadbeats Are, if they’re genuinely created by lewis and not other spirits hanging out with him, are so, so genuinely fascinating and character revealing. lewis is trying to be this hardass revenge-quest antihero, single-minded and dramatic and very very carefully manicured for a specific Image – but then the deadbeats are here. and maybe they’re minions but the way they hang out really does feel like he went “ok but i have to have some company or i will genuinely lose my mind”

#the nemesis speaks #i also have feelings about lewis as an actor and the [waves hand at Everything] as a performance #but that's for another post #msa analysis

[t-lostinworlds]

Extra (Tom Holland)

A/N: What is this? I have finished something? Me?? posting?? A FIC? WHAT? Is the world actually ending!?!? I think I’m funny but I’m not, clearly. Glad to be out of my writing rot tho aha. Hope you guys like this one!

Pairing: Tom Holland x Singer!Reader

Summary: You get a sweet but very extra surprise on your birthday nearing the end of your show.

Warnings: Fluff and my usual typos

Word Count: 5.5k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

The sound of your phone just going off uncontrollably was what woke you up, and you were completely sure that it wasn't your alarm.

You squint your eyes at the bright glare of the screen, a huge contrast to your still dim hotel room. You literally had just woken up hence why the curtains aren't open yet, it's still a bit too early after all.

Flicking the ringer on silent, birthday greetings and messages from friends and families were still flooding through, your phone now vibrating instead of your loud ringtone, giving your ears a break.

As you read through and responded to all of them, you couldn't help but feel a little down after you realized you haven't seen his name yet.

Of course you feel grateful for all the sweet messages everyone has sent you, your heart is melting from all the love. But there's that slight disheartened feeling that you can't seem to shake, slight worry that your boyfriend might have forgotten about your birthday.

You haven't heard from Tom since yesterday morning, which now makes it almost a full day. After he texted you that he was going to be doing a lot of stunts and is probably going to be super busy, he then just disappeared, not even slipping in a text good night. You did let it pass though, because he might have been quite knackered after the shoot.

Message to Tom: Good morning bub <3 Just checking up on you since you haven't read or replied to any of my messages at all. Hope you're okay and haven't injured yourself Thomas. I really miss you a lot and I love you loads x

Your frown could only deepen as you hit send, still no response nor any sign that he's got your messages whatsoever.

Normally, it wouldn't really be a big deal but the last you've seen him in person was three months ago. He was busy shooting the third installment of Spider-Man all while doing a few projects on the side. And you, well, you're touring around the world.

You could be patient and blame it on the time difference why he hasn't greeted yet, but he's just behind a couple hours. Tom has made it a habit of always greeting you at midnight no matter what and where, he's just cliché like that, and it was definitely passed midnight in New York.

God, you sound so much like a whiny and ungrateful brat, but you can't help it, you just miss him so much.

Maybe you've gotten so used to always spending your birthdays with him so the first time that you're celebrating it from different parts of the globe, it does makes you sad.

You did try to make ends meet, but a week before today, he's brought you the news that he can't fly out due to conflicting schedules with some of the actors he's working with, and that it's critical that he's there on the day. To be the leading role of a gigantic movie, asking a few days off is never that simple.

On the other hand, you have a show today and tomorrow, so flying to him isn't exactly ideal either. You understand of course, you are sort of in the same line of work, but still, it doesn't make you feel any less gloomy.

With one big stretch, you placed your phone back on your side table as you slowly got out of bed, opting to go and take a shower to then head down and meet the crew for breakfast.

Maybe you'll hear from him later in the day.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon and still not a single word from Tom.

You were growing worried because it was so unlike him to be very cut off and silent.

Did he lose his phone?

You tried to contact Harry—who's with Tom currently—but he too wasn't responding. Everything was just off and odd altogether, the tiny pit in your stomach only growing bigger the more you worry and think about where your man is.

"Have you heard from Tom?" You asked with furrowed brows the moment Molly, your manager approached you on stage. Your hand found its way to fish your phone out of your pocket to check it for the umpteenth time, but still, no sign of him.

You were finishing up your final soundcheck before you were off to a mini get-together—snacks and drinks included—with some of your fans. It was your alternative to a meet and greet because you'd rather hang out and have real conversations with them than the whole quick snap and go.

She shook her head at you all confused, a slight glimmer in her eyes that you didn't quite catch. "Uh no, why?"

You sighed. Tom doesn't really contact your manager unless its important matters, so you don't even know why you're asking, maybe you've just grown desperate to hear even the smallest thing from him, just anything. "Never mind. Is it time?"

"Yeah, they're all waiting for you."

You simply nodded as you followed her off stage, handing the guitar over to your guy on the way.

Walking through the hallway, you kept your head down, eyes glued to your phone as you respond to more messages from people, but also checking if Tom has come back from ghost town.

You were aimlessly following Molly to wherever room or space they set up the get-together in, just watching her shoes and never looking up from your device. That, until you heard a few shuffling of rushed feet and a door being slammed shut.

"What was that? And what's in here?" You asked, eyes now trained on a door of what looks like another dressing room. Molly continued walking, so you kept following but with your gaze still glued to the door, curios as to what's going on inside because you definitely can hear a bit of ruckus.

"Oh just the staff, that's one of their rooms." She answered casually, not even bothering to give you or the room a glance.

"Is it weird if I just go inside and say thank you? Would that be too... intrusive?" You pondered, halting in your tracks as you contemplated on knocking. You just wanted to extend your gratitude for all their hard work, but you aren't sure if they were comfortable with you suddenly just strolling in.

"It's not weird at all hun, but you've got a schedule." She smiled at you sweetly, nodding her head towards the direction of the get-together.

"Oh right, yeah, let's go."

You gave the door one last look before turning on your heel to follow Molly once again, up until you reached another space covered in curtains. And the moment your bodyguard pulled it open, wide smiles on faces greeted you as they all sang in tune.

"Happy birthday to you!"

You laughed as you shyly shook your head at them. Warmth coated your whole body in an instant as love and pure adoration radiated off of the space, off of your fans.

You did as much as wave your fingers in the air as they sang, serving as a conductor because for the number of years you've been on this earth, you still have no idea what to do when people sing the birthday song to you.

* * *

"I can't thank you guys enough for being here with me tonight. You guys have been so incredible, you always are." You breathed out as your voice echoed throughout the whole arena. You looked at the thousands of people who came tonight to see you perform with a proud grin, their energy never wavering as they sing your songs back to you from each melody to lyric.

Adrenaline was pumping through your veins as you tried to catch your breath, taking the water bottle off of the floor and lifting it up to your lips to have a quick drink.

"Now, give me everything you've got for this last song alright?" You spoke into the mic once you've rehydrated.

"Wait, wait. Don't you guys agree that Y/N is killing it tonight?" Your pianist, Sara, interrupts, the crowd cheering in agreement at her input. "And judging by today's occasion, I think we all owe her a little song." She added, earning a hearty laugh from you as you brought the mic back to your lips.

"You guys don't have to—"

"Happy birthday to you!"

The song was played no matter your protest, Sara leading the crowd as she plays the tune on her keys, the rest of the band following suit.

Your laugh bounced off the walls as you stood there in complete awe. It was a beautiful sight to see, the crowd all singing in unison, lights up in the air as they pour all their heart to the simple yet special song. The song still filling you up with joy and warmth despite having heard it countless of times for the whole day, and the fact that all these people were there for you? It was definitely the icing on the cake.

"Thank you so much you lovely people, y'all are making me emotional. And they say the best way to spend your birthdays is with the people you love and the ones who love you, and they were absolutely right. I'm so blessed to have you guys tonight, because I do love you all very much." You stated fondly the moment they finished with a loud cheer, a hand placed right atop your heart as you feel it grow ten times its size.

"Y/N, we've got another something for you." Sara spoke before you could even get another word out, hand gesturing towards the large screen right behind you.

"Oh god, is this mission make Y/N ugly cry today?" You laughed, turning around just in time too see the tour artwork turning pitch black to then be replaced by a huge countdown.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

The crowd roared in delight as Mr. Niall Horan joined with Lewis Capaldi appeared on screen, large pints of Guinness on hand with their arms around each other as they give you their birthday greeting.

"Happy birthday Y/N! But since we're halfway across the world, we'll be there with you in spirit. Also, Lewis and I decided to celebrate anyway so cheers to you and have an amazing day." Niall chuckled as he lifted his beer up. "I'll make sure to have a good drink for you Y/N! We miss ya and we love ya!" Lewis added with a cheeky grin, and you couldn't help but shake your head at the two with a big smile of your own.

You've worked with them both on a few songs, and both were the funniest yet sweetest gentlemen you've met in the industry, especially when you put the two together.

Both of them emptied their glasses as they bid their goodbyes, Niall's loud laugh echoing throughout the arena when Lewis spilled before they disappeared on screen.

The crowd went even louder once Shawn Mendes' pretty face appeared on it next, sporting his usual bright smile as he gave you his short but sweet greeting. "Happy birthday Y/N! Wishing you all the best in life since you deserve all of it! Can't wait to work with you again soon! Have fun on your birthday honey!"

You shook your head in disbelief. An amused smile was plastered on your face, still unable to fathom that a few years ago you were a huge fan of him. And now you can say you've worked with him, even call him a friend. Funny, how the universe works.

Alessia Cara came up next with a smile, wide and bright, you're heart melting to see one of your greatest and closest friends. She's just a pure and kindhearted soul, a rare beauty. "Hey there you lovely and amazing woman! Happy birthday! I miss hanging out with you a lot but I shall see you soon! Keep conquering the world Y/N! I am so proud of how far you've come and you deserve every bit of success that comes your way. Again happy birthday! Have an amazing one and I love you!" She blew you a sweet kiss and waved you goodbye, tears already brimming in your eyes at all the love and appreciation thrown your way.

Next were Zendaya and Jacob Batalon, who you've grown close with through no other person than Tom. Both were clearly on set sitting on directors' chair in their characters' outfits. Both looked a little tired but they still greeted you with wide smiles nonetheless.

"Happy birthday Y/N!" They screamed in unison. "We wished we could be there with you to celebrate your birthday but you already know how these things go." Z pouted, Jacob copying her as well and you couldn't help but giggle. "But soon when we get a break we will catch up and celebrate your birthday." Jacob added with a knowing grin. "Anyway! Duty calls so enjoy your birthday and have great one! We love you!"

Then friends and family came up on screen, ones who you've missed most having been away from them for so long and that's when you felt your heart ache a little. Happy tears were brimming in your eyes as each of them shared their lovely messages, saying how proud they are for how far you've come. And when those words come from the people who you truly care about, it means the absolute world.

The next person to share their video message didn't help with the tears either, a hushed sob escaping your lips the moment you saw his familiar face.

The crowd behind you screamed at the top of their lungs the moment Thomas Stanley Holland appeared on screen, handsome face sporting that sweet and charming smile as he sat in his trailer wearing his Spider-Man suit.

"Hello darling. My love, I'm so gutted that I'm not there so celebrate your birthday with you. If I could teleport myself by your side right now, I would in a heartbeat, but anyway, happy birthday sweetheart!" Tom exclaimed joyfully, grin all beaming and you couldn't help but miss him even more.

"Oh, where do I start? Well, I can start by saying how proud I am of you, so so proud of the gorgeous, powerful, strong and successful woman that you've grown to become. You've worked so hard to get where you are today and it fills me with so much happiness knowing that you're out there traveling the world and doing what you love the most." The crowd cooed at Tom's sweet words, your heart was already melting at the seams as more tears threaten to spill, and he wasn't even done yet.

"You deserve the whole world if not more with how kindhearted and compassionate you are. And gosh you make me feel so happy and loved. I feel so lucky to have someone like you in my life, I can't even begin to describe to you exactly how much, and if I tried? Then we'd be here for hours on end. And lastly—because I'm being called to set right now, if I wasn't I'd be talking about how amazing you are some more—I am truly, madly and deeply in love with you Y/N. You are my world and I hope I make you feel loved every single day, because you truly deserved to be."

"Tom they're waiting for you."

"Yeah, just one more minute." Tom calls out to someone off shot before his eyes landed back on the camera, staring straight at you through the screen with a guilty smile. Guilty because it pains him that he's not there with you. "I love you dearly, and I miss you so much. I'll make it up to you I promise. Once again, happy birthday to my beautiful girl and I shall see you soo—"

All of a sudden the screen went static, Tom's words being cut off as you heard nothing but white noise. Then everything just went black, the whole arena dark as the night as gasps of surprise and screams of panic echoed throughout its walls.

Tell everyone to stay calm Y/N, we're fixing things up.

Your sound guy spoke in your in-ear. You nodded despite the fact that they probably can't see you due to the darkness. Turning back around to the audience, you spoke into the mic. "I'm sorry guys, just technical difficulties. Just stay in your seats in be calm, the lights should be back on in a minute."

And as if on cue, the crowd screamed as the power turned back on. However, after a few seconds, they turned unusually rowdy, too rowdy for it to be only that reason. Slowly you got the feeling it wasn't only because of that, judging by the volume and power of their cheer, and by a few fans pointing at the stage as if they're seeing something you aren't.

For a split second, you met eyes with Molly who was right by the side of the stage. She had that all-knowing grin on her face as she pointed towards something behind you.

Confused, you turned around, jumping in sheer shock when you were met by a hanging, upside-down person dressed in a red and black Lycra suit, face all covered with a mask making the identity of the person pretty much unknown.

Your heart beat quickened as you stumbled back on your feet at the sight of the person, your brain registering it back to a specific boy—one who you saw on screen minutes ago wearing the exact same outfit—even if there was no confirmation as their face wasn't even shown. Your whole body was trembling from surprise, excitement but also worry that it might not be who you think it is under that mask.

Emotions were all over the place as you stared right at upside-down, masked-face of Spider-Man who held a birthday cupcake in hand.

"No, no, stop, please, is this a prank?" You croaked out, shaking your head as tears started to escape your eyes, question a must because you're having a really hard time believing what you're seeing.

It's been a long day, you just really wanted to make sure that what's happening is real and not just a figment of your imagination. You had to make sure that it wasn't the desperation of you missing your boyfriend painting pictures in your head. Not only that, but to really be sure that it's actually him under that mask.

"Guys! Don't even play! Please don't get my hopes up. That's a stunt double right?" You asked into the mic as you looked at your band and the rest of the crew for answers, who gave you nothing but wide smiles. You just feel like it would be too good to be true, and you really don't want to face disappointment if it wasn't him.

On the other hand, out of all the things they could have done to prank you, why would they choose this? It's a bit cruel to prank someone on their birthday now doesn't it? Especially when it involves playing with their emotions?

Unless, it's not a prank at all and you're getting way too ahead of yourself.

Mr. Spider-Man beckons you over, finger pointing at your hand to which you held the mic. With tears already clouding your vision, you moved closer slowly.

Reaching a close enough proximity, you had one hand over your mouth to silence your whimpers as the other lifted the microphone up to where Spider-Man's mouth is supposed to be. And the moment he spoke, you've lost any sense of control over your emotions or your sanity, his voice just too familiar for it to be someone else's.

"Why don't you take off the mask and find out yourself darling?"

You shook your head at the upside down boy as joyful tears streamed down your face, shaking hands lifting up to hook your fingers on the edge of the mask, pulling it down and removing it fully to reveal the face of the man you love.

"You sneaky bastard." You laughed tearfully, Tom only grinning at you all proud, his face now turning redder as the seconds pass by, being upside-down and all.

"Happy birthday sweetheart." He chuckled, offering you the cupcake, which you took gladly, balancing it with the mic on your hand. You were unable to form any more words as you stared at Tom, still unable to believe that it's actually him, and that he's here, in the flesh.

The crowd started to chant the word "kiss" over and over, making you throw your head back in pure laughter.

"We should do the kiss." Tom wriggled his eyes brows at you, mischievous smirk in play and you couldn't stop your eyes from rolling at your boy. But still, you gave in anyway as you cupped his face softly, your heart skipping a beat at the feeling of his warm skin against your palm.

You brushed the tip of your nose with his with a hum, moving closer until there was no space between you two as you captured his lips in yours, all while trying to manage the whole upside-down situation.

Tom sighed in pure satisfaction to finally feel your lips on his after months of being deprived from it, your touch making him feel like he's floating, which says a lot given the fact that he was already hanging mid-air all while being upside-down.

The kiss didn't last long though, too many prying for you two to cherish the moment. The crowd, on the other hand, cheered in amusement at the extremely cliché but sweet gesture, you and Tom giggling between the kiss at the loud support.

"Okay, I'm actually getting dizzy now." Tom laughed once you pulled away, hand gesturing for you to move just a little bit farther, and when you did, he flipped himself right-side-up with ease. A few guys then rushed on stage to help him with the wires, and once they were off, Tom turned to you with a sweet smile, face coated with wholesome contentment to finally see you in person again.

"You're actually here." You whimpered, fresh tears wetting your cheeks some more once he stood right in front of you.

"Aww darling, come here." Tom cooed with a soft chuckle, arms wrapping around your frame as he held you close to his chest, pressing a sweet kiss on top of your head. You couldn't contain your sobs as you buried your face on the crook of his neck, the smell of his perfume filling you up quickly and it only made your grip around him tighten.

You just miss him so damn much, and to actually have him here on your birthday, to be holding him so close after months, it was making every fiber of your being emotional.

"I haven't missed your birthday, not a single one, ever. Why would I start now?" He whispered against your hair, swaying you from side to side in a comforting manner, a soft sigh coming out of you as you felt your heart grow with even more love for this man.

"I still haven't decided if I hate you or love you for doing this." You giggled with tiny sniffles, pulling away to get a proper look at his handsome face, the face that you'll always be glad to see. Hate because he almost gave you a heart attack and for making you worry about him for being gone for a day, and love because, well, he's here now isn't he?

Tom only shot you a wink. "I'll tell you all about it later." He says, hand reaching down to take the microphone from you.

"Hey everyone, I'm Spider-Man." The crowd roared at that, Tom laughing in pure glee, all proud of his choice of words as he slings his arm over your shoulder and pulled you to his side. "I just want to thank you guys for supporting this amazing woman right here. I've been watching the show from the very start and you guys have been incredible."

Tom turned to look at you lovingly, smile coated with delight and adoration, voice layered with nothing but certainty. "I love this woman a lot, so thank you for making her dreams come true and for making her happy."

With just that, you were able to conjure even more tears as you looked at Tom all adoringly with a small pout. The boy stared at you with just as much love, cooing at your reaction as he gave you a soft kiss on the forehead.

How have you managed to get so lucky?

"Right, I'm done crashing your show so take it away my love." Tom finished as he handed the microphone back to you. Giving you one last warm squeeze and a peck on the lips to match, Tom was then waving goodbye to the audience and disappearing side-stage to watch the rest of the show.

Taking in deep long breaths, you turned to the audience with a laugh. "Okay, wow. Mission Ugly Cry is a success then. I haven't see him in months okay I couldn't help the tears."

"I wasn't expecting that at all as you can probably tell by my reaction. How am I supposed to top that now?" You rubbed your temple in feign worry, the audience cheering you in mere support.

You were still sniffling from all the crying along with your throat being little dry. And you were thankful for waterproof mascara otherwise you would've looked even more horrifying.

"God I'm such a mess, can I have some tissues please?" You asked, looking around the crew for help as you attempted to wipe off the tears with your fingers.

Instead of the staff, Tom ran back out with a box of tissues and a bottle of water in hand, making you shake your head in utter hilarity at how corny he is. You couldn't hold back your laughter when he handed you the box of tissues, pulled a couple pieces and held his fingers under your chin as he wiped your tears for you, all gingerly as if he was retouching your make up. After that, he opened up the water bottle to help you drink, then fixed your hair up jokingly and squeezed your nose playfully right after.

Once he was done with, he gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek, waving one last time at the crowd before returning back to side-stage.

"My new assistant everyone." You joked, keeping your eyes on your boyfriend with a grin you can't seem to wipe off. Tom mirrored your expression as he gave you two thumbs up in support for the last song, and with that you turned back to the crowd with a deep, satisfied sigh.

"Right, let's go out on a high note."

* * *

"Absolutely killed it." Tom praised, engulfing you in a warm embrace the moment you got off stage, a soft thank you coming out of you as you squeezed him back.

On your way back to your dressing room, You kept each other close, his arm slung over your shoulder with yours around his waist as you walked through the hallway.

"I'm not leaving your side by the way. I missed you too damn much and I'm not going to waste any second by being a little far from you." Tom shot you his best puppy dog eyes combined with a cute pout, a sweet giggle escaping your lips that made Tom's heart melt ten times over. "Well, I'm not complaining."

It wasn't that long of a walk from the stage to your dressing room but you had time to kill, so you turned to look at your man with a curios glint in your eyes.

"Tell me how you've managed to pull off this extremely over-the-top surprise? I mean, you could've just showed up in my dressing room and I would've cried just as much." You pointed out. Not that you didn't like what he did, you loved what just happened, every second of it, but you cannot deny that what he did was as extra and cliché as one can be.

Tom shrugged with a chuckle, "I know. But I wanted it to be special, you deserve nothing but. And you've got to admit, dangling upside-down in the middle of the stage during your show, all while dressed as Spider-Man is pretty impressive. Plus, we did the kiss. I'd say it's an amazing birthday surprise."

"It is amazing. I just happen to forget how extra you are sometimes." You teased. "I am, but you love me for it." Tom retorted back with a smirk, causing you to roll your eyes with soft laugh.

"Yeah, I do. Thank you so much bub, you always make my birthdays memorable." You sighed, wrapping both your arms around him with a smile full of gratitude. Tom planted another kiss on your forehead, a bright smile on his lips to match yours as he hummed. "Anything for my angel."

"Now, details Holland."

"Right, managed to pull some strings a a week ago and was able to ask few days off, so the whole conflicting schedule wasn't entirely a lie but it wasn't as serious as I made it out to be. Flew out last night right after the shoot. I couldn't handle just lying to you which is why I didn't respond to any of your messages in case I slip up. I'm sorry about that love."

"And then out of nowhere I thought how awesome it would be to pop up as Spider-Man in the middle of your show and do the famous kiss, so I asked Marvel a favor and thank goodness they let me borrow the suit. Called Molly to tell her about my plan, she helped quite a lot. Arrived here earlier this morning, did a test run with the wires and all that while you were still back at the hotel. Changed into the suit to then wait for the time. Oh! And if you actually looked up from your phone earlier down the hall on your way to your get-together, the whole surprise would've been ruined."

You gasped as you smacked his chest lightly. "That was you! I knew something was up." You felt really played, knowing you could've seen him if you did as much as peek up from your phone. But then again, it would've ruined the whole thing, and you really don't want to change anything that has happened today, so you're glad you didn't.

Tom could only laugh at your reaction, giving your pout a sweet peck before continuing. "The video messages were planned a long, long time ago but we made a few edits at the end of my bit to make it dramatic and here we are now."

And just as he said those last words, both of you now stood in front of the door of your dressing room. If there's one thing you always tend to be surprised about Tom, it's his impeccable timing.

"You are something else Thomas." You gushed, referring to today's escapade and just in general. You really are so lucky to have someone like him in your life, so thoughtful, caring, kind and just all around amazing.

You don't really know what came over you but the moment he opened the door to your dressing room and are your way inside, just knowing that you two were finally alone, you grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him down, crashing your lips on his as you pushed him back against the door, closing it shut in the process.

Tom chuckled lowly at the sudden change in mood, hands taking home on your waist as he relished the taste of your lips, one he's missed so bad.

The thick fabric of his suit was starting to irritate him for he just wants to feel your skin on his fingertips, especially after so long of not having to touch you. It got on Tom's nerves even more when he felt it grow even tighter than it already is.

And when you started to nibble on his bottom lip as your hands inched down his body slowly, Tom groaned, pushing you away gently, just for a little room to breathe. "Darling, it's very uncomfortable, borderline painful when I get hard in this suit, you know that." He grumbled, brown eyes a shade darker as his grip on your waist tightened.

You giggled, recalling all the times you've teased him whenever you came to visit him on set. "Hmm, let's get you out of it and go back to the hotel then."

Tom's bottom lip got caught between his teeth at your suggestion, your insides churning as he looked at you lustfully, a deep rumble erupting from his chest when he said,

"We definitely should. After all, this isn't the only surprise I have in store for you sweetheart."

-:-:-:-:-

Like & Reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think! <3

#tom holland #thomas stanley holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland stories #tom holland short stories #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland writing #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom #holland #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagines #peter parker fanfiction #spider-man fanfiction #my writing

[drethanramslay]

Gone with the wind

Pairing: Rafael x MC( Addison Jones)

Word count: 1.5 K words (this is a short one, I'm sorry)

masterlist 

Taglist: @miyakokurono​ @trappedinfandoms​ @openheart12​ @sekizincimektup​ @x-kyne-x​ @paulfwesley​ @zeniamiii​ @an-urban-witch-ig​ @ramseyegerton​ @noboundariesplease​ @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey​ @newcolonies​ @theodorepjames4​ @unluckygs​ @choices-love-affair​ @kaavyaethanramsey​  @caseyvalentineramsey​ @virtualrain202 @squishywizardhq​  @junehiratas​ @lilyvalentine​ @nooruleman​  @agent-breakdance​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @choicesfanaf​ @temptress-of-death-and-desire @ac27dj @oofchoices @mrsdrakewalkerblog @livingpurpose @humanpokemon @chaotic-ramsay-queen​ @oofchoices​ @ohramsey​(let me know if you want to added or removed froth tag list)

Warning: angst and swearing and im apologising before hand if there are any mistakes. its 2 am in the night so :P

Songs: Don't leave by MØ and Before you go by Lewis Capaldi

It had been an eventful day.

From seeing Kyra collapse in her pool of blood, to spoon-feeding Elijah's intern, to having a wild cat and mouse chase in Mass Kenmore it was crazy indeed. Addison has had five heart attacks and six meltdowns in just a span of 12 hours which left her tired physically and mentally.

But you got to see Rafael for like five minutes, so that's a good thing right? he inner ever-optimistic conscience pointed out which made her smile.

Even though they chose to remain friends, anybody within a five mile radius could sense the palpable tension between the two. The lingering gazes, the long hugs and the occasional kisses on the forehead spoke volumes.

Addison fucking knew that he wasn't happy with Sora.

Hell since the time she knew that Addison was his ex, the fights have started increasing in frequency. Initially, Sora would hang out with the group and during those times, when Raf wasn't looking her way, the death glares that were sent her way, left Addy feeling uneasy.

And that was just the beginning.

There were times when she would shout at Rafael incoherently and the sweetheart that Raf is, would listen to her 'concerns' and try different ways to make her happy. Be it by taking her out on cute dates or by showering her with cute presents or swooning surprises. Addy wasn't even aware about this entire fiasco because they pretended to be couple goals. She only got to know when they had gone out fo beers on the nights of the softball game.

He is such a good actor... Addy thought to herself as she entered the lift and pressed the fifth floor, comfortable in the blue scrubs.

The patient poaching was a wild ride in Mass Kenmore and it was overwhelming. Addy had still not come down from her high, the lingering effects of adrenaline making her restless. Ethan tricking Tobias, Baz imitating Zaid and the run in with Aurora was too much.

I swear I need to have one bottle of wine asap. Addy thought has her shoulders ached, a knot forming due to the excessive stress.

She entered room 532 to see Bryce sitting by Kyra, holding her hand and giving her a reassuring smile.

"Hey there K-bear. Gave me quite a scare this morning, huh?" Addy sat by her side and pulled her frail body into a long bear hug.

"Hey Big A. I heard the you had quite the Fast and Furious chase scene today, huh?" Kyra said with a weak smile.

"You wouldn't even believe it Kyra! It was so exhilarating and equal parts terrifying."

"Give me all the deets but before that.." Kyra glanced at Bryce and he gave another encouraging nod. "I'm sorry for being a her to you Addy."

Addison stopped her before she got sucked into the whirlpool of guilt. "No, don't be. I rather you vent all your anger out on me if, its giving you the courage to keep fighting." Kyra gave a huge smile and hugged Addy again. Addy's eyes fell on Bryce. "So Bryce, have you thought of the treatment plan?"

"Yes. So we are gonna do an extensive surgery.." For the next fifteen minutes, Bryce explained the complete plan for the surgery along with the pros and cons, and Addy listened to him with rapt attention.

"So what do you think Big A? Do you think this is a good plan?" Kyra asked with puppy eyes.

"Kyra, if Bryce said its a good idea, I have complete faith in him. You couldn't have had a better surgeon on your side." Bryce gave a grateful smile.

"Thanks Big A. You are the best."

Witnessing the exchange between Kyra spoke up with a mischievous smile. "You know, I remember when you two were clueless little interns fighting over who got to treat me."

"Clueless?!" Addison eyes bugged out.

"Little?!" Bryce clutched his chest out of horror.

Ignoring the offended looks Kyra smiled. "I'm glad that I have you both on my side." Addy gave a soft smile and reached to squeeze her hand, Bryce following suit.

"We aren't going anywhere." Bryce spoke. Addison looked up and she saw Rafael standing outside with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Their eyes met and Addy's heartbeat spiked up.

Bidding goodbye, she headed out and closed the door softly behind her.

"Hey Addy." Rafael spoke with a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He opened his arms and Addison walked into the warm embrace. She breathed in his minty cologne and suddenly all the distress of the day washed away.

He is like healing salve to my wounds.

"Hey Raf." She said as she stepped back to look at him.

"How is she doing?" Rafael asked as he waved at her. Kyra waved back enthusiastically.

"She is doing as fine as she can."

"Aren't we all?" Raf said as he looked down at her.

The memory of their previous encounter entered her head and she remembered. "What did you wanna talk about, superman?"

Raf's eyes averted and suddenly found interest in staring at his sneakers.

"No its nothing-" Raf began but Addy, turned him towards her, so that his brown orbs could meet her turquoise ones.

"Raf... I know that look. Its the look which you have when I caught you eating my M&M stash. Tell me, whats wrong?"

"I- I am leaving town."

Addison took a sharp intake of breathe. Panic started churning in her chest as she tried to calm herself. "How long?"

Silence followed which in itself, gave an answer to her.

"Rafael fucking answer me! How long will you be gone?!" Addy's eyes were tearing up and Rafael dragged her into the near by supply closet.

"Don't fucking touch me until you answer my damn question." She exclaimed.

"I..I don't know." Rafael stammered out.

Addison eyes widened and she immediately started rambling. "Where are you going? I am getting an off for the next three days. We could go together and chill and enjoy. You don't need to-"

Rafael gripped her shoulders stopping her. "Addison, I bought a one way ticket."

Do you ever feel trapped or frozen as you see the entire basis of your reality fall apart? That sheer hopelessness and the need to fix it, but you can't?

That's how Addison felt.

"No... Rafael you can't do this! Your friends, your girlfriend, your grandma and your job, is all here!! Boston is your life and you have always wanted to stay here and serve the community-"

"I want a change in pace, can you blame me?" Rafael said crossing his arms, his jaw clenching .

Addison's eyes blazed, the turquoise eyes, turning icy. She looked up at his towering height and poked his chest. "Don't for a moment think that I am going to fucking believe that sorry excuse Rafael Aveiro. I have dated you for seven fucking months and I know you inside out. You may forget or lie to yourself about us, but I damn well know you."

"So look me in the eyes and tell me the fucking truth."

"How can I tell you the truth when you are part of the reason I am leaving?" Rafael said through clenched teeth.

Addy was shocked and speechless. "Me? What the fuck did I do?I literally have been the most supportive person-" she managed to choke out before she was interrupted by him.

"Can't you fucking see it Addison?! I have a fucking girlfriend but I am still, like a fucking idiot, completely and utterly in love with you?! Everyday is a fucking tug of war between you and Sora and its ripping me in shreds. I am loosing all my sanity and to top this, I don't have a fucking job to go where I can just forget everything. I am fucking tired and I need room to breathe."

I am completely and utterly in love with you... That love confession was the best thing she had ever heard, but also like a slap on the face.

"Oh."

"Yes 'oh'. So that's why I have decided that I am going to yeet myself out of this hellish situation and start afresh." Raf said with so much determination that it felt like a stab in the heart.

"Rafael you don't need to do that, please. I'm begging you." Addison pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "You are the only good in this entire city. I- I will cease all contact with you until you get your head straight, as much as it hurts you. But please, please don't leave the city. I need you Raf."

"Addison, if I stay here... I-I can't last another day." He said painfully.

A violent sob shuddered through Addison and Rafael's eyes softened. He wrapped his arms around her as cries racked through her entire body. "I'm so sorry sweetheart... You don't deserve this shit I put you through..."

"Raf..."

"I know that I am leaving now. But if I do come back, be it one month or a day, I promise you that I will make you mine... that is if you still want me." he said, his voice cracking as he ran a hand through her blonde hair.

The embrace got over as soon as it started. She stepped back and cupped his cheek and smiled through her tears. "Rafael... there won't be a single day when I can ever stop loving you. I promise that."

"Me too sweetheart... me too."

#choices #choices oh #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #pixelberry #open heart #open heart mc #open heart 2 #open heart second year #rafael aveiro #rafael x mc #oh rafael #open heart rafael #Rafael averió x mc

[chriscolfernews]

Chris Colfer is renowned for his Golden Globe-winning performance as Kurt Hummel on Fox'sGlee, where he helped bring the story and struggles of a gay teen to an international audience.

However, the 29-year-old actor-turned-writer is also taking the literary world by storm. Colfer has written an impressive 15 novels, most notably his The Land of Stories children's fantasy series. He does not shy away from LGBTQ activism on the page. His latest book, A Tale of Magic..., which centers on people persecuted for practicing magic, "is an allegory for being gay," Hummel told The Advocate in a recent interview.

Evoking a children's version of The Handmaid's Tale, A Tale of Magic presents a world where women have no rights and are barred from reading. Additionally, practitioners of magic are condemned to death or life imprisonment. A young girl, Brystal Evergreen, rebels against this tyranny by engaging in both. In turn, she is sent to a correctional facility to "cure" her of her magic. A mysterious savior, Madame Weatherberry, rescues Brystal from detainment and recruits her on a mission to change the hearts and minds of the kingdom.

In the following interview, Colfer discusses how antigay politics of the real world inspired his magical allegory, which he calls a "manifesto for compassion. I’ve never written anything like it before." A Tale of Magic, now available on Amazon and wherever good books are sold, also recently debuted at #1 on the New York Times Best Seller list, demonstrating how Colfer's message of political resistance has resonated with young audiences.

The Advocate: Congratulations on your new book! What inspired A Tale of Magic?

Chris Colfer: Trauma, mostly. I was 11 years old when 9/11 happened. I remember I was old enough to understand what was happening, but I wasn’t old enough to understand why it was happening. And I don’t think anything is scarier for a child than confusion. I can’t imagine how scared kids must feel nowadays. So I wanted to write a book that parents and teachers could use as a point of reference when they explain the troubling things their kids and students see on the news. I hope it puts things into perspective while giving them a magical adventure at the same time.

You’ve written 15 books. What’s the secret to your productivity? Caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine. Also, isolation. Sometimes I’ll go weeks without seeing anyone besides my boyfriend and our dogs.

Who are your literary influences? Well, I apologize for sounding like a millennial cliché, but J.K. Rowling had the biggest impact on me. I wasn’t a good reader when I was young, and Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone was the first book I actually enjoyed reading. And some of my happiest childhood memories were going to those midnight release parties. I then went on to devour everything by C.S. Lewis, Eva Ibbotson, and Bruce Coville. On some level, I think I’m still mourning the end of Harry Potter. It left a void I’ve been trying to fill by writing my own books.

What appeals to you about the fantasy genre in particular? I suppose it’s the escapism and encouragement it provides. In fantasy, a mouse can slay a dragon if it’s courageous enough. That’s very therapeutic for those of us still battling our own dragons.

A Tale of Magic, much like The Handmaid’s Tale, shows a bleak world where women have no rights. Also, practitioners of magic are subjected to imprisonment or even the death sentence. While writing the book, how much did the real world and the current political climate influence your storytelling? The current climate was the entire inspiration. A Tale of Magic was supposed to be an easy task for me. It was supposed to be the start of a simple prequel series. The working title was The Land Before Stories. But when I sat down to actually write it, I felt so angry and helpless by the state of the world, I had to do something more so I could sleep at night. Even if I was the wrong messenger, even if it didn’t do well, I wanted to do anything I possibly could to guide the next generation onto a better path. It ceased to be a prequel and became a completely original story. Now I consider A Tale of Magic my manifesto for compassion. I’ve never written anything like it before.

What is the overarching message you wanted to send by centering your story on a character who is not only discriminated against for her gender, but also her extraordinary abilities? I want young people to know that just because they’re born into an environment that doesn’t accept or appreciate them, that doesn’t mean there isn’t an environment that will. There’s a lot of love waiting for you out there if you’re willing to look for it. I’m living proof. Also, the more the world discourages you, the more it needs you.

The protagonist is sent to a “Correctional Facility for Troubled Young Women” in the hopes that she will be “cured” of her magical gifts. This storyline echoes the experiences of survivors of conversion therapy. How do you think fiction — your novel in particular — can fight against antigay forces like "ex-gay" therapy in the real world? Thank you for making that connection. In my opinion, the purpose of fiction, besides providing an escape, is to subconsciously plant seeds of reason and compassion in people’s minds. That was the sole mission of the Brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault. After reading about the horrible and abusive experiences at the Correctional Facility in A Tale of Magic, I hope my readers will grow up with a resentment of conversion therapy already ingrained within them. If I can get them to sympathize with the struggles of a fictitious magical community, then maybe, just maybe, they’ll be more likely to sympathize with the struggles of other communities fighting for acceptance in the real world.

In addition to A Tale of Magic being a novel, do you see it as a work of LGBTQ activism? I’d like to think so. Although, I have no control over how other people will interpret it. For me, the magic in A Tale of Magic is an allegory for being gay. The characters are raised to believe magic is demonic and unnatural. They’re sent to camps where they “pray the magic away.” And they’re all on a mission to prove "magic isn’t a choice." But what magic represents for me may be different for a little girl in Egypt or a teenage boy in Japan. We all have obstacles that hold us back. We’re all assigned different stigmas based on our circumstances. So, whatever your “magic” may be, A Tale of Magic is about overcoming the forces that suppress it.

We’re living in a world when books are still being banned — and the written word itself is under attack. As a novelist, do you see it as your duty to fight against censorship? Absolutely. You have to be incredibly strategic to get your book into the hands of the people who need it the most. Especially when your books have LGBTQ themes. So many authors get criticized when they reveal a character’s orientation or gender identity after publication instead of on the page. But I don’t always agree with those critics. In some places books are instantly banned if they have any LGBTQ characters or LGBTQ references whatsoever. But there are ways of getting representation into those territories that goes under the radar. That’s the purpose of the character Xanthous Hayfield in A Tale of Magic. His orientation is never directly addressed in the first book, but there are enough clues so a closeted little boy living in an oppressive country can relate to him and know he’s not alone. But I don’t think censorship can survive the modern age. In fact, I think governments shoot themselves in the foot when they apply censorship. It instantly triggers a wave of curiosity and publicity you can’t buy. So please, by all means, ban me.

Did you have a Madame Weatherberry, the "fairy godmother" character in A Tale of Magic, in your life? My grandmother was my biggest cheerleader growing up. She made me believe in myself, and I think that’s the greatest gift you can give a kid, even if you don’t necessarily believe their dreams are practical. I used to sit with her for hours and hours on her back patio and talk. We’d make game plans of how I was going to accomplish my goals while she smoked and polished her guns.

You dedicate your novel to those whose shoulders you stand on — presumably LGBTQ pioneers. Did you have any particular figures in mind when making this dedication? There are a hundred names I could list that everyone knows, but it’s really about the people who are unknown. I get pretty emotional when I think about it. There are millions of people who never got to reap the benefits of their courage and honesty, but because they stood up when they did, I get to do what I love and be with who I love. I can’t imagine the bravery it took. Even right now, there are people in other parts of the world reading this website in secret, looking for encouragement as they fight for their right to exist. Wherever they are, I hope they can feel the future’s gratitude.

If you could have any magical ability, what would it be? Honestly, I’d be happy with just a faster metabolism. That sounds pretty magical.

What appeals to you about your literary work, versus the world of television and film? I suppose it’s the control. When I write a novel, it can be anything and everything I want it to be. I get to tell the story and describe the images exactly as they exist in my mind. In film and television there’s always so many cooks in the kitchen it’s difficult to produce a pure vision. There’s a lot of compromising and negotiating and it requires a lot of patience. Also, I can write books in my pajamas. It doesn’t get better than that.

Would you adapt A Tale of Magic into a movie or TV series? I would love to see A Tale of Magic come to life. I guess it all depends on my experience with the Land of Stories film adaptation. For my own physical safety, I hope the Disney/Fox merger settles so we can finish it. There are millions of kids around the world who are going to want to hurt me if they don’t get a movie soon.

#chris colfer #the advocate #a tale of magic press

[howling-harpy]

No question about it

Pairing: Winters/Nixon Rating: G Word count: 3454 Summary: Loose lips sink ships prompt fill: “Dick and Lew have been a couple since the end of the war, pretty much married but keeping it quiet. When Ambrose interviews them in the '90s, he 100% fails to notice. ” Disclaimer:  This is a piece of fiction based on the HBO drama series and the actors’ portrayals in it. This has nothing to do with any real person represented in the series, and means no disrespect. In this universe there is also a historian who interviews the men of Easy. He shall be called Steven.

*

Steven was excited for this project. His previous book on paratrooper infantry had been a success as well as a lot of work, and after all that he had thought he was done with the subject. Only he had been wrong, since after accidentally running into a reunion his interest had been completely captured again, and here he was.

He already had a good chunk of the Easy Company men’s anecdotes and stories, and based on those alone Steven knew he definitely wanted to work them into a proper historical publication, and it would feel all the more powerful with personal testimonies. He just couldn’t quite believe that he was here, about to talk to those two men everyone had mentioned in pretty much every story with nothing short of absolute admiration and dedication. Mr. Winters wasn’t an easy man to get to know. Sure, he was polite and pleasant, but as someone trying to dig deeper Steven had quickly noticed that the man wouldn’t spill the beans to just anyone. They had so far talked only on the phone, but even like that Steven had gotten the feeling of being put in his place by a gentle yet strict grandfather whenever he tried to pry into things that apparently weren’t his business yet. But as time went on, Steven had slowly won the man’s trust and assured him he intended to do right by the men – that was the part Winters had been really concerned about: his men. And now finally, Steven had managed to culminate enough trust to be invited here, into the man’s own home. The farmhouse was a thing Winters had been working on for many years as a side project and finally near retirement sold his house in the city and moved there permanently. Steven had driven two hours from the airport to get there, and by the time he turned his small rental car to the driveway the upcoming meeting had turned from distant to palpable. It was a forest green two-story house with a large porch, surrounded by apple trees and garden roses, then vegetable patches and rows of corn, a small potato field and sunflowers. Years of hard work was evident, and the operation looked like it had spread with time and become more and more ambitious. Steven parked his car, gathered his research files, notebooks and tape recorder, walked up to the porch with it all and rang the doorbell. A dog barked somewhere in the house. Steven could hear its paws on hardwood floors as the animal was the first one to get to the door, but only a moment later he heard a familiar voice ordering: “Tom! Basket!”, and then the door opened. Winters had hunched down in his old age a bit but he was still tall, his hair was the colour of faded copper, the remains of once no doubt flaming red, and his pale blue eyes were clear and sharp behind his glasses. He was already smiling when he opened the door knowing who to expect, and he gave Steven an evaluating once-over. “Hello, Steven. Nice to meet you in person, please come in,” he said and stepped aside. Steven smiled, excited and nervous, but in a good way. “Good day, Mr. Winters, thank you. It’s an honor to finally meet you.” “Please, drop the formalities, this is my home and I’ll have none of that here,” Winters said, waving a hand. “Did you find your way here alright?” Steven shook off his jacket and put it in a hanger. “Yes, thanks to your instructions. It was a drive, but the way was easy. You have a beautiful house.” “Thank you. It’s been under a lot of work for a long time. Please, come to the kitchen, we’ll have coffee and something to eat.” Steven followed. The house was warm and cosy inside, carpets on the floor and curtains in the windows, and as he followed Winters down the hallway, he got a glance into a living-room with several overflowing bookcases, a plush couch with embroidered pillows, and a fireplace with two armchairs in front of it. When they passed the staircase to the second floor, Steven had a fright when Winters suddenly slammed his hand against the railing and called upstairs: “Lewis! Don’t be rude, we have a quest!” Steven had been too busy being impressed with Winters and had completely forgotten that Nixon lived with him. He didn’t beat himself up too much about it since he had only spoken with Winters who had also invited him, and Nixon hadn’t spoken to him or agreed to be interviewed. They continued down the hall to the kitchen, a huge space that had the dining room joined to it. There’s already coffee brewing and the small kitchen table had been set for three. “Please take a seat and do whatever you do with those things,” Winters told him while gesturing at his tape recorder and continued to the fridge, where he took various plates out on the counter. Steve spread out his notebook and set up the recorder in the middle of coffee cups and dessert plates. On the other side of the table was apparently Winters’ place with a stack of photo albums and folders of other mementos next to his cup and plate, and Steven felt a tremor of excitement go through him. “Can I help you with any of that?” Steven asked, tearing his eyes from the stockpile of material. Winters had piled up plates and trays from the fridge on the counter and was holding a plate of sandwiches and another of cookies, and now threw Steven an appreciative look, probably actually meant for his mother for installing manners to him. “Sure, if you want to. I’ll get the coffee. Also, there’s a pie in the oven.” Steven got up and carried plate after plate to the table. “This looks amazing, Major, but this is also way too much,” he said and actually meant it. There were cookies, cinnamon buns, little sandwiches, cupcakes, and apparently an apple pie still in the oven too. “Nonsense,” Winters said, “and I meant it about the formalities. Just Dick is fine, especially since you plan to pry into my life.” “Oh, no, it’s just research, and anything you don’t want to disclose you can just say and I’ll –” Steven stopped abruptly when he looked at Winters, saw his smile and twinkling eyes and realized he was joking. Steven laughed nervously. “Yes, well. Casual, then.” The coffee was ready, and Winters picked up the pot, brought it to the table and poured it into three cups. “Casual is the best way to go. I know this must seem like a big thing to you, but to me it’s just how things were. It was a job, and it was over forty years ago. It calls for little fanfare,” he said. Steven sat down and picked up his pen. He had to scribble that down to remember it later, since he knew fully well he himself couldn’t treat any of this as just a job or a casual thing no matter how much it was so to Winters. Steven also glanced at the third coffee cup for the other man living there, who had yet to show himself, but decided not to ask. “So. What do you want to start with?” Winters asked, mixing milk and sugar into his coffee. “Um… Anything you’d like. I’m planning on writing about everything from beginning to end without focusing on any single event or operation. I’d like the full picture. A personal testimony,” he said. “Beginning, then,” Winters said, “that was in 1942.” Steven turned the tape-recorder on, and they started about paratrooper training. Winters talked generally about physical training and equipment, occasionally side-tracking to talk about his fellow soldiers, friends and acquaintances he had made, and Steven interjected only with specifying questions. The thing that actually interrupted them was when the egg timer went off. “That would be the pie,” Winters said and got up. The smell of simmering apples, cinnamon and sugar spread into the kitchen as soon as he opened the oven. Winters brought the pie to the table, setting it down in the middle and tossing the oven mittens to the side. He supported himself on the edge of the table and lowered himself back to his seat. “Now, where were we?” he asked. “Uh… You were telling me about utilizing airborne infantry in Operation Overlord,” Steven answered. Even despite his excitement he had gotten distracted by the pie. “Ah, yes. We were all qualified paratroopers at this point of course, we knew our function, but an actual campaign has so much more attributes to it and there’s no training for those. We didn’t know when or where we were going, or what our mission after landing would be, so – “ he paused suddenly, eyes turned to the door and a new kind of smile spread on his face, lines around his eyes drawing deep. “Look who decided to finally come down.” Steven turned around just in time to see another elderly man entering the kitchen. “Yeah, don’t think too much about it. I’m here for the pie,” Lewis Nixon grunted, brown eyes narrowed at Winters as he came in. He had thinning silvery hair he had combed neatly back, heavy grey brows and white stubble covering his cheeks. He had a reserved look on his face, but he still nodded to Steven in acknowledgment before sitting down next to Winters. “You should have come sooner. Your coffee must be cold at this point,” Winters said. “Oh well, I’ll drink it anyway,” Nixon replied nonchalantly, already reaching for the steaming pie. “You know what the old maids say, cold coffee makes one more beautiful.” Winters’ smile stretched into a grin as he watched his friend piling his plate with pie, then with cookies and cinnamon buns and a singular cupcake, “like you ever needed any help with that.” Nixon took a sip from his coffee cup and glanced at his side, clearly pacified. Wrinkles on his forehead and between his brows smoothed, and when he spoke to Steven he sounded considerably less bristled. “So, you’re here about the war? Has he ranted about our first CO to you yet? Because if you ask about him, you’ll get enough material for all your little tapes,” Nixon quipped to Steven while he mixed sugar into his black, lukewarm coffee. “We talked about him some,” Steven said. Winters had let his feelings be known but hadn’t ranted per se, probably still holding back on that front, as it suddenly occurred to Steven. “Would you like to make a contribution?” Nixon’s lined face was soft and his cheeks slightly droopy, but his brown eyes were suddenly sharp while he simply kept stirring his coffee. “No. Like I said, I’m here for the pie, and I’m not going to answer any questions. So you can turn that recorder off for as long as I’m here.” “Certainly,” Steven said easily and did as he was asked to. Recording was a privilege that he hadn’t always enjoyed anyway, and he had a feeling that if he wanted anything out of Nixon it would be on the man’s own terms anyway. Winters sighed at his friend’s attitude and shook his head but didn’t comment. “We were just getting to D-Day,” he said. Nixon snorted. “Oh great, the worst day of our lives.” “It wasn’t the worst day, Nix.” “You’re right, it was only the worst day of our lives so far. It got steadily worse from there.” “That’s not true,” Winters said, leaning closer to his friend, close enough to bump their shoulders together. He sounded comforting, gentle and warm in a way true friends apparently did after spending most of their lives together. “The next day was a good one. I saw you again, for starters.” Nixon visibly softened at that, gave Winters a yielding look and ceased with his comments, taking a bite of a cinnamon bun instead. “This is good,” he said with his mouth full. Winters smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Anything for you.” Steven watched them from the other side of the table, pen and paper ready now that recording had been denied of him. What he could pick up on was that Winters and Nixon had been on separate planes during the Operation Overlord and been uncertain of each other’s fates for the entire night and most of the next day. He couldn’t even imagine what that would feel like, being sent on such a dangerous mission separately from your best friend and then not knowing if they were okay for so long. “You didn’t see each other at all while in Normandy?” he asked. Winters refocused on the subject again. “We did, but at that point the invasion was on the way and we were moving tanks to the beach.” He paused to think about something. “That was the only time during the war we were apart, right?” Nixon had his mouth full of pie and he quirked his brows as Winters spoke to him. He nodded heavily, swallowed and smiled slightly. “Someone had to keep eye on you.” Winters leaned back in his chair and gazed at Nixon proudly, a look that he favoured the most when he spoke of the men he had served with. “You did, didn’t you? You kept me sane,” he said warmly, then pointedly added: “Despite your best efforts on the contrary.” Nixon accepted both the praise and the needling with a self-satisfied smirk and a quirk of one heavy eyebrow. “You love me and you know it.” Winters scoffed and smacked Nixon on the arm with the back of his hand. “Just eat your treats and behave yourself, would you?” Steven sensed a natural opening and seized the opportunity with a question: “What was your role there, Mr. Nixon?” Nixon turned to him again and gained that same slightly grumpy seriousness he had entered the room with. “I was the S-3, the intelligence officer. I started as a platoon leader at Toccoa but was quickly transferred to the battalion HQ where I spent pretty much the rest of the war.” Steven took notes. He already knew about Nixon’s job since he had already been praised by several other members of Easy he had already talked to, but personal testimonies where why he was here in the first place. “So you oversaw most of the operations?” “I oversaw all the operations,” Nixon corrected grimly and took a hefty bite out of a frosted cupcake, which somehow didn’t make his displeasure any less stingy. “I observed, listened, scouted and planned. I was always aware of everything that was going on around us and kept everyone up to speed.”   “Sounds like a lot of responsibility,” Steven said. Nixon shrugged. “Sure.” For a beat or two Steven waited for him to continue, but he was quickly realizing that Nixon wasn’t going to say a single thing more than necessary. Steven tried to not take it personally as Nixon wasn’t the only man who had refused to talk about the war, but it was starting to look like he really was there only for the various pastries. He glanced at Winters who was taking slow sips from his coffee with a glance to his friend every now and then. Steven tried to be tactful. “It sounds like there was a lot going on behind the scenes.” Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. Nixon’s jaw tightened and his upper lip twitched, baring a side of teeth for a moment before he averted his eyes. “I was in the line,” he said, almost snapping. “I might have been a drunk who never fired his weapon, but I was there with the rest of the troops. That’s the spot my work was done in, not in some nice, safe office miles from the action.” Steven took notes. He had to admit that being snapped at by a veteran of Easy Company and Major Winters’ best friend wasn’t the best feeling in the world, but he was starting to understand Nixon’s reasons for not talking about the war much. “May I quote you on that?” Steven asked. Nixon snorted. “No!” he grunted, then seemed to mull it over some and added: “But make sure you get it right. I was there the whole time. I was in the line.” “Of course,” Steven said. Winters reached over to lay his hand on Nixon’s back, whose tensed-up shoulders slumped under his touch. “It’s already there, Lew,” he soothed, hand rubbing his friend’s back. “You know that I think the world of you. You were always there for me, always by my side, reassuring and comforting me. Do you think I’d agree to talk to anyone about that time and let them leave you out?” Nixon let out a deep sigh. He turned his eyes towards the ceiling and just breathed for a while, then hunched forward and leaned on the table with his elbows, eventually turning his gaze to Winters who never stopped rubbing his back. For a long moment they sat like that, completely silent but clearly communicating with their eyes alone. Steven didn’t want to interrupt the moment. There was a deep intimacy between the men opposite from him, something deep and strong that they had built during their decades together, and even despite being an outsider Steven felt the warmth of the bond. “May I ask how long you two have lived together?” Steven asked. The moment came to an end. Winters let his hand drop and both men leaned on their own seats again. “Since… 1946, I think?” Nixon answered but glanced at Winters for confirmation. “Yes. We moved to New Jersey then,” Winters continued, “we lived there for less than a year though. Lew’s father discovered and disapproved of us, so we left, moved around a bit but finally settled down here in Pennsylvania.” Steven nodded as he scribbled down notes. “And you stayed together the whole time?” “Well…” Winters started, drawing the word out, “it wasn’t anything we decided or talked about. There just… Simply wasn’t any question about it. We both felt very strongly that we needed to be together, and that’s what we did.” “We’ve always been together since -46,” Nixon added, “that’s forty-five years.” Steven made a note of that. “It must be nice to be such good friends,” he said. Nixon and Winters exchanged a look. “Yep.” “Sure.” There was another natural pause, and once again Steven glanced at the pile of photo albums Winters had readied. He was absolutely dying to get a look at those, to put faces to names and make comparisons. Winters had also told him he had kept meticulous diaries, and things like that were an absolute goldmine to a historian. “Are those all the documents you have?” Steven asked, pointing at the stockpile with his pen. Winters shook his head. “Oh, no, those are simply the photos I have. There’s a whole pile from the regimental photographer as well as photos the men have sent me, personal and from reunions and such. My diaries are not here.” “May I take a look at those? That would be most helpful,” Steven asked. “Yes, certainly,” Winters assured. Next to him, Nixon had relaxed and shaken off the previous gloom. His brows quirked with new mischief and suddenly he grinned. “You have always been the archivist of us. With those glasses you’d make a fine librarian too, Mr. Winters.” Winters gave Nixon a clearly warning look over the rim of his glasses, but Nixon just smirked back at him. “Yeah, keep that up. See where we end up,” he teased, and Winters gave an exasperated huff and rolled his eyes. “You didn’t keep any mementos or souvenirs, Mr. Nixon?” Steven asked. Nixon shook his head. “Nah. I got rid of most of it a long time ago. I got rid of my uniform and everything pretty soon after I was discharged too.” He got a wicked look in his eyes again. “What I do have are my letters, from that time and after too. They take up several shoe boxes, but maybe I should bring those down and read some. He might not talk much but you’d be surprised by some of the stuff my darling soldier boy here can – “ “Nix!” Winters cried out, snatched the oven mitten from the table and swatted Nixon with it. Steven focused on his notebook to hide his smile. He could only hope to be such good friends with someone someday.

#winnix #band of brothers #loose lips sink ships #mun ficci

[icecoldflames]

The Pinnae Flower Epilogue

Masterlist

Patton-ly Perfect was filled with customers and, honestly, Roman loved it. So many people marvelling at the decor and the various pastries behind the counters.

Patton was currently out so Breena was managing the cash and the customers.

After Fairy Cakes and Fantasy Books went bankrupt Patton offered her the job here. Roman liked to joke that his and Logan’s frequent visits there were the only reason the old cafe stayed afloat and, now that they lived in Mayflower Town, the cafe’s main source of income was gone.

Along with Breena came the hundreds of books from her shelves which were now displayed outside her new house in a Free Little Library. But it wasn’t all that little.

Roman saw Virgil in his usual spot and walked over, draping his arms over his shoulders. “Hello, love.”

Even though Roman couldn’t see his face, he could sense the smile on his face. “I swear, Roman. If you ask one more time about the ending of PS, I might smack you across the head.”

Roman pouted and took a seat across from Virgil. “Aw, c’mon.”

Virgil tried to give Roman a glare but failed miserably. Instead, he ended up barking out a laugh. “I want it to be a surprise for everyone. Including you. Besides, have you forgotten what day today is?”

Roman pretended to be hurt by Virgil’s statement. “You think I would forget such an important day? A day that wouldn’t be possible without you?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, still grinning. “Shouldn’t you be setting up for that?”

“We’ve got it all drafted and set. It’s ready to go.” Roman said, waving his hand. “We’re doing a theory about Lewis.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Roman!” Logan’s voice called out from the doorway of Patton-ly Perfect. “Come here for a moment! Tell Virgil you won’t be long!”

Before Roman could open his mouth to ask, Virgil waved his hand. “Go on. Anyway, you know what they say: bros before h—“

“—That doesn’t count with us as you’re both male. Everyone’s my bro. Except you’re my boyfriend too.” Roman added in before striding over to where Logan was.

Logan was wearing a black button up and a blue tie with diagonal stripes. His hair looked recently brushed and he was nervously playing with his fingers.

“Looking sharp!” Roman commented as he neared Logan. “Looking very fine indeed.”

“I don’t know how you went on a first date without feeling nervous like this. I don’t get nervous often.” Logan muttered, pushing up his glasses.

Roman just patted Logan on the shoulder. “I was nervous. I’m just the better actor and was able to hide it. Anyway, it’s good that you’re feeling nervous. It means you actually like Patton.”

“What? I’ve always liked Patton and never felt this nervous in my entire life!” Logan said, fixing his sleeves.

Roman grabbed Logan’s wrists and forcefully pushed them down to his sides. “Talk to me. Maybe it’ll calm you down a bit.”

Logan nodded and coughed. “Very well I suppose. Did you hear about Jo?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? Serves her right, to be honest. Karma is a bi—“

Logan rolled his eyes. “I just wish Virgil would have stepped forward.”

Roman shrugged. “Jo would have gotten what she deserved whether Virgil said something or not.”

“You know Virgil can’t stay hidden behind a pseudonym forever, right?” Logan suddenly said. “Jo figured it out. This is just the beginning.”

Roman bit his bottom lip. “Virgil and I have talked about this before too. Virgil said he’s been thinking about it long before Jo figured him out. He’s planning on how to break it to the fandom and press soon. He thinks maybe after Pinnae: Spelunca is released.”

“Good on him.” Logan nodded.

Roman smiled. “Alright, you look a lot less nervous! Now go get ‘em, Lo!” He exclaimed loudly and pushed Logan in the direction of Patton’s house.

When Roman could no longer see Logan ambling down the street, he made his way back inside the cafe to Virgil.

“Do you think the date will go okay?” Virgil asked as Roman slid into his seat. He didn’t look up from his screen.

Roman nodded, stealing part of a raspberry muffin Virgil had bought.

“I think everything will be okay.”

~~~

Pinnae: Spelunca

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR THE NEWEST PINNAE BOOK, PINNAE: SPELUNCA

Can I just say that Raz really outdid themself on this one? I mean, this book made me cry, it made me want to smack some characters, it made me laugh out loud.

I loved it so much. It might be my favourite out of the series, knocking Pinnae: The New Era down to number two.

I loved how it took us back in time to the timeline of Pinnae: Magus and Pinnae: Exsul where Arel and Parisa are on opposing sides of the upcoming war. It’s like, if PM and PE are on opposite sides of the spectrum, PS is the middle zone where both sides are right and both sides are wrong.

So many plot points have been solved thanks to this book and, boy, am I freaking out over them. They are just perfect and they make so much sense. Let’s go over four of the main ones.

Number 1. Why the dragons stole the pinnae flower. We always knew the dragons stole it from the previous books but never why. But now we know that it was to keep the fairies and sprites from starting a war. However, they obviously failed as we can see in PTNE. Case closed.

Number 2. The importance of the pinnae flower. Logan and I had always assumed this last book would be dark but not like this. The pinnae flower being made of the wings of fairies turned sprites? Totally uncalled for. I almost hated King Oberon in this. I was this close. Until it was revealed that ol’ buddy Oberon had no idea of the whole cut off wings thing and that it was his father who did everything and who cut off Queen Titania’s (then, Princess Titania’s) wings. Can I say that that chapter was absolutely devastating? Can I blame Queen Titania for kind of wanting the pinnae flower to see if she could ever reattach her wings? In any case, case closed.

Number 3. SIDNEY’S DEATH. Hallelujah! Sidney’s mysterious death is solved. I know that his death is controversial because it was on accident. Pinnies think the death was a cop out and that Sidney deserved a more grand death than the one given to him. Personally, though, his death is, however sad, is perfect. It’s just that Sidney could possibly still be alive if Kaida had just been less prideful and practiced aiming just a little more when she had the chance. Again, case closed.

Number 4. The cloak. Sidney’s darned cloak. The thing that split the fandom up since the very beginning of the series. What was beneath Sidney’s cloak? Was there even anything under there? Was Sidney just being dramatic and trying to look mysterious and cool? Well now, we’ve got our answer, folks. Wings. Yes, wings. Sidney the Sprite was actually Sidney the Fairy all along. The secret agent go-between between the fairies and the sprites and ultimately working for the dragons. His secret beneath the cloak is so simple yet so perfect. Again, no one expected it. But this one wasn’t controversial. And another case closed.

These were four of my favourite plot resolutions in this final instalment of the Pinnae series. I’m just gonna go cry in my bed for a month or so. What am I going to do now that the Pinnae series is officially finished and done? What am I to do when all the theories have been theorized and there are no more left? Just kidding. Logan and I will never run out of theories.

Also, can I just say that I would literally die protecting Aeni and her sunflower patch? Raise your hand if you’d like to start a Aeni protection squad.

And, until next time, take it easy guys, gals, and non-binary pals.

PEACE OUT!

[maraschinocheri]

I know I'd happily read all the novels on Killian as Valjean. Oh Ginger, this is going to be something quite special. I can't wait to see it.

OH JOIN ME IN THE CAN’T-WAITING ROOM.

So! The novel I’m absolutely not writing about Killian stepping in as Valjean at cast change in June. Like the novel I absolutely didn’t write about Gblags’ Drink with Me, I’m just going to knock this out and not overthink it. Not least because I’ve said so much about it before, and because if I do think too hard about it, there will be Emotions Business. This is long, whoops. No one is surprised.

First, this is A Good Time to do it. Not necessarily because of the lack of roles in London now for him, but that is a factor. A bigger factor is that vocally and physically, he’s so ready now. He’s spent the last year and a half on cruise control vocally—Charlie is no stretch in terms of the singing, and Soul of a Man is a song-hill Killian could climb in his sleep; Jackie in Donegal wasn’t strenuous, either—and since The Commitments he’s learned how to take care of his voice. While in Memphis he made leaps and bounds as an actor, and while KB was no challenge in that respect, he at least has retained the stronger grip on himself he found. Since February of this year, he’s also made some definite changes that now have him quite fit; I think he is nearing some of the best possible shape of his professional life, and right on time, too.

But then he’s not entirely unfamiliar with the physical needs of the role, of course. I have no count of how many times he covered Valjean between between 2009–2011, but it was no doubt enough to give him plenty of information on the toll the role takes. The songs will not trouble him, that’s a near-as-dammit certainty; even if he doesn’t have the bell-like clarity now that you could hear in his Valjean then, there will be an even more wonderful richness and maturity to his singing that wasn’t there before. I’ve heard and read arguments that he was just too young, and I get that—there is a case to be made that he’s still too young now, but again, see below re: available roles in London, and a guy’s got to pay the mortgage—but there’s not been a better time than now, vocally; really, truly—everything since The Commitments has been building to this. Killian grew up in this show over three years, and left it soaring but still young; think of everything he brings back to it now.

So what do we potentially have to look forward to? Obviously a glorious Bring Him Home (I expect I will die, and so will be sure to plan for an aisle seat so my death and resurrection for The Final Battle cause the least possible distraction), but also a marvelous Who Am I?—he’s always sounded lovely in that one, though the last note always seems to surprise him—and a potentially thrilling Confrontation (his Confrontation with Norm Lewis is my hands-down all time favourite version of the song), and a soaring final note on One Day More. I don’t think he ever quite got a proper handle on Valjean’s Soliloquy, so I am very much looking forward to him working through it and finding his way. His weakness as a cover was the finale, but that I think was a product of youth, and he couldn’t find the elderly, desperately exhausted Valjean inside himself at that time. My guess is that it will be drawn out more easily now. Smaller moments to look forward to would be the interaction with Fantine and, to a lesser extent, Cosette; Killian’s an incredibly generous actor with women, and capable of showing great tenderness when called for and sometimes even when not. For my part, it will be a joy to actually feel invested in some of the early scenes of the show again. And I hope beyond hope for an excellent take on my favourite lines of Valjean, in the scene where he lets Javert leave the barricade. I’m not in love with the past few years’ blocking choices in that scene, but if anyone can make it work for me, it would be Killian.

The only thing I would have loved even more would be to have Thaxton back as his Javert—my DonnellyThaxton2K15 campaign banners still wave in the metaphorical breeze, as each could have no better foil than the other—but we can’t always get what we want. eta: Of course I wake up to find Hayden Tee will be playing Javert. I am very, very pleased. What I had written here about Jeremy Secomb is no longer relevant.

(On a side note, my hope is that in rehearsals they bring John Caird and Kate Flatt back in again, to rein in the Chris Key-based histrionics; the wonders they worked on Revolve 29 were incredible. I’ll just hope for the best. Killian knows the Brick, and well, and I think he will honour what he can.)

And now for some quick dips in the shallow end of the pool: First, I am so ready for the costumes, too; I love Valjean’s Monsieur Madeleine garb, and oh, the waistcoats. I will die, but what a way to go. Second, while we may never again know the glory of Killian’s Enjolocks, my hope is that they don’t wig him poorly as the older Valjean. And please, don’t let him pull a Lockyer and pretty much shave his head. Third, we could get the beard back. I am delighted. Not least because it would be so much better than the fake beard on Sexy Jesus Valjean back in the day:

Almost last and very least, when I jokingly said the time is now, the day is here, I really wasn’t joking that much. A quick survey of the West End season coming up doesn’t offer many open doors for Killian—the parts are really just not there—and while I would never call the role of Jean Valjean a stopgap, it is at least something comfortable on more than a few levels while he gets his feet back in London. And if he stays a full year—no guarantees of that, of course—then he will walk back out of the Queens almost exactly 10 years after he first took the stage before an audience, Swing'ing the Joly track on the first night of LM 08–09.

(I would love to know what the young SuperSwing who’d been cleaning his bathroom when he first got the call to cover Valjean that night would think if you’d told him he’d eventually be taking over as principal in under a decade. To tell the truth, that SuperSwing would probably say you’re shitting me, but also be thinking to himself, well, yeah, obviously, that’s the plan. The unprofessional professional is as ambitious as any other lad, after all.)

Anyway. This is far too long already, but I will say this: Killian knows how much he owes to this show, and has never stopped loving it, and his investment in it has already been rewarded by the promotion to Enjolras, by the featuring in the 25AC and the film, by the Oscars—it goes on. When he urged the powers that be to give him more to do as Swing rather than just shift him to Grantaire in his second year, I think that was the first step of so many that brought him to this point, to this glorious point.

During my DonnellyThaxton2K15 campaign ridiculousness, I said essentially this, and I hold to it: a return on [Killian’s] part would be a chance for [one] of the many, many London casts’ most emotionally-invested actors to leave everything [he has] on the floor. I also said it was a dream, and one that has little to no guarantee of coming true, but it’s deliriously good fun to think about. Occasionally dreams force themselves true, and I am so, so thrilled.

#sashaatthebarricade #talk talk #advances in modern potato research #I won't lie; I have been Rather Upfront about the inevitability of this right at him #but one doesn't really Believe until it's all out there #and I am so so so delighted