#I hope it gets to go to the Westend one day

[paintsplash1712]

I really hope when the Jojo musical starts they'll realise the soundtrack and do an English version like the Death Note Musical.

Either way Riku from Kingdom Hearts is playing DIO so I'M ECSTATIC!

[81folklore]

helpless - GR63

pairings: george russell x hamilton!ensemble!reader (fc: ella kora)

summary: george ends his softlaunch with a cast member of hamilton on the westend

authors note: sorry for not posting in forever but ive had no motivation and i cant find the want to finish some of my drafts so have a brand new smau thats been BREWING in my brain ever since i saw hamilton the other week. its literally one my favorite musicals so you know i had to incorporate my two interests, you dont need to have seen hamilton or know about the story for this!

important: rg63 is george’s private instagram

masterlist

georgerussell63

liked by alex_albon, yourusername and 366,450 others

water, sports and sunsets☀️

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user7 shirtless george is back!!

user10 hes so…

user45 THE SOFTLAUNCH HAS TO END SOON RIGHT😭😭

user12 i miss when george wouldnt make me feel single every post😔

yourusername oh myyy🫠

yourusername

liked by jakeh_j, lilymhe and 235 others

smiles (mostly) all round this summer☀️

tagged: rg63 and jakeh_j

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rg63 miss you darling🤍

yourusername miss you too love💜

jakeh_j dinner soon?

yourusername yes!! g is coming to a show soon so we can do it then :)

jakeh_j sounds good👍

user6 cant wait to see you in hamilton!

yourfriend cutie🫶

georgerussell63 and alex_albon have added to their stories

yourusername ahhh cant wait to see you all💜

f1updates

liked by user72, user1 and 2367 others

george, alex and lily with fans today in london

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user1 im the one in the third photo, they were in a rush as they had to go to the theatre but they were all so sweet and took the time to sign a hat i had!

user10 was anyone else with them?

user1 there wasnt! i dont think george was with his girlfriend but she could’ve been waiting for them somewhere else☺️

user72 idk why them going to the theatre together is funny but it is😭

user5 right?? it feels so random😭

user53 i can’t believe they watched hamilton before me

georgerussell63

liked by alex_albon, yourusername and 872,426 others

i have been with you since the beginning of your incredible journey of living out your dream of being in the west end. i know how much getting this part in hamilton meant to you and getting to see you on stage brings me so much joy, forever proud of you darling🤍

tagged yourusername

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yourusername george☹️i will love you forever and ever thank you soso much for being by my side💜

yourusername you have no idea how happy it makes me to know you are in the crowd

alex_albon thanks for being my friend so lily can see her favorite musical😁

georgerussell63 yeah no worries man👊

yourusername alex i hope you know its me she loves to see, not hamilton🤨

alex_albon your wrong.

lilymhe shes very much correct🫶

user7 WHAT IS HAPPENING

user5 HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH

user25 WAKE UP GEORGE POSTED HER AHHHH user6

user6 OMG I LITERALLY SAW HER THE OTHER DAY😭

user10 this is so cute (im sobbing)

user8 wow the highway is such a good place to stargaze!!

user83 i cannot cope why is this so🫠🫠

lewishamilton 💜💜

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, lilymhe and 6273 others

i look into your eyes and the skys the limit. georgie my love for you is timeless, each day i think about how lucky i am to have you by my side and how lucky i am to get to be the one to love you. you have changed the way i view the world and myself and my life will always be better now youve entered it, and no matter what this chapter in our lives will stick with me forever and always💜

tagged georgerussell63

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georgerussell63 i am so grateful you have come into my life

georgerussell63 i love you so much darling

yourusername i will never stop loving you🫶

lilymhe when will i get posts like this☹️

yourusername yours is next lovely🤭

alex_albon babe?? i post you all the time

lilymhe and yet you havent used a lyric from hamilton🤨

user16 oh i love them so much😭

user45 my😭love😭for😭you😭is😭timeless😭

user12 hahhaa im so happy for you😭😭

jakej_h i hate people in love

yourusername you love us really😁

user9 MY HEART CANNOT TAKE THIS

user7 OH MY GOD GEORGE LOOKS SO GOOD🫠

liked by yourusername and others

user101 george is so boyfriend🤭

user62 that first picture😮‍💨

user99 they are so in love😭

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

052 of 2023

Have you ever been to a gay pride parade?

No. As much as I support minorities (I’m one of these, after all), the pride parades are not appealing to me. I feel neither pride nor shame of my orientation, I just don’t overthink it.

Would you take your dream job if it were out of the country?

I actually did once. It was an interesting experience.

What is your zodiac sign?

Taurus, but I don’t care about astrology.

What do you like to do when you’re home alone?

That’s pretty TMI. XD Just kidding. I don’t like to be alone at home, so I take walks or go somewhere further.

Should the guy always pay for the date?

And... what if he’s gay and dating another guy? Or what if it’s a lesbian date and there’s no guy? Or what if the woman is independent? This is such an outdated concept.

What kind of music calms you down?

The more aggressive, the better. No kidding.

Who did you last go to a park with?

I don’t even remember the last time I went to a park.

Have you ever been robbed?

No. Thankfully.

Are you working, a student, both, or neither?

Both. Currently things are a bit different due to my health issues, but I’m getting there.

What’s your favorite holiday?

Christmas, not for religious reasons.

Do you prefer male or female friends?

I love all my friends, but I get along with guys better.

How often do you wash your hair?

Every two days.

Is anyone close to you an alcoholic?

Yeah, one of my friends.

How does your natural hair look?

It’s dark brown.

Have you ever dumped anyone?

Not really dumped, but refused to date. I’ve never been really interested.

What race/heritage are you?

Well, I’m white. And my heritage is mostly Dutch and German, and more distantly French. Everything from the neighbourhood :P

What’s your favorite dessert?

I don’t really like sweets.

So, opinions on Amy Winehouse’s death?

Unnecessary. She had the voice and I believe she wasn’t a bad person, after all. She passed away way too soon.

Are you currently wearing any jewelry? What?

My wedding ring and almost all my piercings have jewelry in them.

Do you ever go on chatroulette or omegle?

No, I barely remember such websites exist :P

What kind of tea do you drink?

I don’t drink any tea.

What’s in your purse right now?

I don’t use purses, I’m a guy.

Do you know anyone in a gang?

Not in person.

What does your last received text message say?

“You have 1 new message, call 1230.”

Recommend a great book for me:

The Legend of Ice People if you like fantasy books.

Pro-life or pro-choice?

No opinion, but more like pro-choice. After all, it’s your responsibility and nobody’s gonna experience it for you.

Ever traveled outside of the country? Where?

France, the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, Poland.

Do you have insomnia?

Yeah, I do. I’m working on fixing it, though.

Have you had sex in the past 48 hours?

No, I haven’t.

Do you wear glasses or contacts?

Glasses. I can’t wear contacts, my eyes are too dry.

Who were you last in a car with?

My husband.

Do you recycle?

It’s mandatory in my country.

When was the last time you were on an airplane?

Never.

What’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you?

My husband has been taking care of me when I was in the hospital.

Is chivalry dead?

There’s nothing to comment on here, really.

Where do you hope to live when you’re older and settled?

In Westende.

What is your favorite flavor of Boba tea?

I don’t even know what it is.

Are you drinking or eating anything right now?

Just had ramen noodles.

Are you listening to anything right now?

There’s TV in the background, as usual.

What do you usually give as birthday gifts?

I take people to restaurants.

Do you make youtube videos? About what?

No, I don’t. I just have an account to make playlists.

What color are your nails right now?

Natural? I don’t paint my nails.

What is your favorite season and why?

Summer because long days.

Do you go to church?

Nope. It’s incredibly boring.

Do you read the Bible?

Nah. I’ve read it all once and it only convinced me that religion is not my thing.

What kind of shoes do you wear the most?

These black platform boots that I bought in Pull&Bear. They are perfect. <3 In summer, I wear these Converse-type shoes, but mine are of the Fila brand.

What kind of shoes do you want?

Yet another boots, but higher this time.

What do you plan to eat today?

I don’t make plans. Whatever I find in the fridge.

What is your favorite snack in the middle of the day?

Yogurt or something like that.

What would you pack for lunch for school?

A yogurt.

Favorite insect?

Ladybug, or butterfly.

[spiltscribbles]

omg hi i don't know if i was able to send my request to you cos my wifi sucks but could you write "things you said while I cried in your arms" and/or "things you said when you thought I was asleep" for alex and henry? :) loved your last one so much!!

~Notes: I’m so sorry I never posted this here my love🥺 But I hope you enjoy this!!!  A REBLOG IS WORTH A thouSANd STARS!

.-

Things You Said  |  Prompts Closed

.-

When Henry was being brought up— back before his father’s abrupt death and before he understood the sadness in his mother’s eyes and before the very act of attending family dinners had begun to feel like crossing into enemy territory— the Fox Mountchristen Windsors would spend their summers in the family estate, Mertylewood, in northern Hampshire. Back then Henry had thunk the manner there was a Neverland of sorts, otherworldly and magical and totally untouched by the underhanded dealings and suffocating sophistication required by the life of a royal.

Mertylewood was wide and sweeping, with boundless rooms with air that always smelt like a cocktail of  hickory and bonfires and the gossamer his mother had always favored. It was surrounded  by green pastures and flower meadows for miles, divorced completely from  any of the uneasiness back home, and Henry had always relished in the anonymity of it all. A respite from a life composed of expectations, doused in the ever appraising public eye,  and strung together by the looming threat  of the responsibility to the family name.  It was the closest thing to home he’s ever known.

Mertylewood was the place where his mother taught him how to knit, their hands folded into one another’s and her long arms encircling his narrow frame. It was where Phillip stopped being such a god forsaken wanker all the god damn time and taught him how to aim while shooting with his bow and arrows. It’s where Beatrice looked lightest, most carefree, where she forgot about the judgmental glances by the gaggle of tube sock wearing, nasally sounding girls she claims are her friends. It was where she and Henry would stay up all night long listening to her favorite records, and painting their nails ridiculous colors and laughing for absolutely no reason at all. But most importantly, Mertylewood was the one place where none of the cameras or tabloids  or reporters got even a slice of their family, including  Henry’s father, his hero. His father who always told Henry that while Arthur might’ve been in the movie business, Henry was the brightest star of them all. His father who loved them all so thoroughly that Henry could never forget it, even when the shine to his smile or precise shade of blue to his eyes began to fade. His father who spent the afternoons in Mertylewood with Henry riding their horses and chasing the sunlight. Afternoons where Henry felt like time would never end.

Their favorite spot to stop and rest  was a tiny alcove on the cusp of the property, right where the trees met the mouth of the river, and where the sunlight refracted against the tree tops and sod  to make them look like they were ablaze. Henry had thought that it was something magical, something that could never be replicated. He knows now, a decade and a half removed, that he was wrong. He sees the same blaze in Alex Claremont Diaz’s chestnut eyes whenever he’s determined, excited for a challenge even if it’s something as stupid as a staring contest that he refuses for Henry to win. He thinks Alex is the personification of that wonderment Henry had once  felt as a naive boy, and is blown away by him all over again.

“Oy! I saw that!” Alex suddenly crows, leaping up from his seat on their sofa in the Brownstone Henry had bought to start their lives together, topping it off with some ridiculous dance from some ridiculous app that in all seriousness Alex shouldn’t even have considering that it was created  by a hostile government literally spying on it’s users. “You blinked Henryson! I win!”

“I did not do anything of the sort!” Henry reproves with no real heat, too busy trying not to gaze  longingly at Alex’s swinging hips in those sweatpants.

God it’s so fucking unfair that his boyfriend is so hot, and even more unfair that Henry is so God damn weak for him.

“Ah c’mon sour patch,” Alex pretends to  croon, beginning to pepper sloppy kisses down the column of Henry’s neck, unwittingly making it so Henry arches up towards him. “I know it’s not really part of you royals’ MO, but a deal is a deal.”

“Says the first son of a nation which rebelled over some taxes,” Henry scoffs, can’t help the snicker that bubbles out or the dazed way he feels over the gleam in Alex’s eyes.

“Spare me babe, you love it when I’m a rebel,” Alex goads, far too cheeky and far too endearing all at once. He’s a living contradiction that Henry would spend an eon trying to figure out, but for now, Henry momentarily loses all thought when Alex, the sneak,  slips a sly hand into his shirt, and swipes his fingers against bare skin— a whisper, a promise for something more.

Henry has fallen for a bastard, God save the queen.

“I promise I’ll make it worth your trouble,” Alex pretends to  croon, presses an open mouth kiss to Henry’s own. In turn, henry only responds by swinging his head back and willing himself not to get all heated like he were some fucking schoolboy with his first crush over being a fully fledged adult lounging around in his home with his fucking fiance of all people. His annoying ass, smug as all get out fiance, but his fiancé all the same.

“I took’r out to shit last time!” Henry grouses, greedily pulls Alex back closer when he starts to detach himself.

“I seem to remember that you offered last time,” Alex says with a pointed hiking to his dark brow, dips down to trade another snog like he couldn’t help it, as if he felt a fraction for what Henry felt for him. “And then you lost this time around, so.”

“I’m not use to all this manual labor while i’m in America,” Henry tries for broke,  immediately regrets the quip when he sees the way it makes Alex’s entire countenance go smug and his button nose turn up in such a shrewd fashion that it inspires a whole slew of maddening emotions to chorus within him, ninety percent of which being that he’d really like to get Alex naked. Nine percent wanting to kiss him so hard that it falls off, and the remaining one percent being a mental note to text June about some face masks for him to get rid of the blackheads speckled around  there.

“Shut it Alexander,” Henry opts to  say, faux aggrieved as he slips out of his embrace and picks up Eleanor’s leash. “I’ll take her out if you just promise not to speak out loud any of the various innuendos you’ve surely devised in that cryptic place you call a brain.”

“Rude.” Alex sniffs.

“I reckon that’s a deal?” Henry presses.

“You run a hard bargain,” Alex nods, unflinching and far too  serious. Truly,  Henry must be completely off his rocker considering that he’s not only helplessly in love with this boy, but he’s been lost on him since before he could remember. Sometimes his chest feels like it’s going to burst with the love he feels for him, knows that he can be shit at showing it, quieter than Alex’s grand gestures and loud proclamations, but Alex knows. Alex knows how the love Henry holds for him runs deeper than all the oceans, and more expansive than this galaxy. He knows that Henry considers him his person, that what he feels for Alex is unparalleled by any other, insurmountable in its daunting expanse but what keepsHenry grounded nonetheless. And that’s the most important part out of all of this.

“I’ll make you some tea for when you guys get back,” Alex offers, grin a supernova that Henry had once been terrified to burn against.

“If I end up dead in a gutter and the local news reports that I was a decent man, you promise to get me one of the nicer candles for my wake, won’t you? The one’s with a wooden wick?” Henry asks, only partly kidding.

“Don’t be silly babe,” Alex laughs, mock magnanimous. “With those cheekbones? You’d never end up on local news, primetime would be fools not to plaster that pretty face all over!”

Henry frowns before pecking a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“I’m so glad I’ve got such a strong support system at home Alexander.”

“You know it baby.”

.-

When Henry had been six and Beatrice a fresh ten year’s old their parents had taken them to see a peculiar show on Westend which featured odd musical numbers, a Mary Poppins like nanny, and a set of twins whom were able to read one another’s minds. Henry was so very confused by the whole ordeal, but Beatrice was downright ebullient over it. She had spent that entire spring trying to train  them to learn how to do the very same. Predictably, it was a spring full of scraped knees and random bruises and a twisted ankle. But sometimes, once in a blue moon, their connection is so clairvoyant that Henry privately thinks that somehow Beatrice’s persistence had somehow forged the bond out of sheer force of will.

Exhibit A, while Henry walks down the brisk streets of the city— or well, less walking and more being dragged by the ninety pound Labrador he and Alex had adopted nearly a year ago now— he feels his phone buzz, and when he opens it he finds a message from Beatrice. Just a short phrase coupled with a photograph that punches the air right out of him.

B: Sometimes I miss it

The attachment is a picture of the five of them, Henry and Beatrice with Phillip and their parents, on Mertylewood’s veranda. The photograph was taken on a day where the light shimmered, making it so Henry and their mother’s golden hair shone right through. Henry and his siblings were in matching trousers and tops, while his parents were caught mid laugh. It looked like what you’d see plastered all over the trashy magazine covers that were obsessed with their family to a morbid degree.

Henry remembers the precise moment the photograph was taken. Remembers how his father spent the better part of an hour trying to figure out the camera settings so that it would take an automatic shot. Remembers Phillip and Beatrice bickering about a butterfly she had caught and he had let go free. Henry remembers his mother carding a ginger hand through his tousled hair, the both of them always having been more reserved than the others and sharing the trait like a lifeline in the chaos of it all. Henry remembers how after they had finally gotten a good collection for their grandmother to sift through in the midst of deciding which would make it on that year’s Christmas collage for the paper, Arthur had tossed Henry on his shoulder, and slung an arm around Catherine’s hip and beckoned the two oldest along for them to go out for sundaes and eat them by the peer.

It’s one of the last truly happy memories Henry has before his father’s diagnosis, a snapshot of resplendence that would never last.

He isn’t sure how long he’s been staring down at his phone, doesn’t notice that time had passed until he finally feels the salty droplets cascading down and splashing against the screen. And shit, it’s been over an hour since he’s left. It was only meant to be a walk around the block for Eleanor to stretch out her legs before bed. Damn it, Alex is probably worried sick.

With a shuttering breath, Henry slowly shuts off his phone, looks up to find that he recognizes the apartment complex they’ve stumbled in front of, miraculously only five minutes away from his and Alex’s place.

“Thank Jesus,” Henry mutters before softly tugging Eleanor away from a hydrant and making the trek back home, stomach twisted up in knots over how Alex must feel.

His suspicions are confirmed when the pair of them make it back home and are greeted by the sight of a peeved off looking  Alex, only clad in his pajama bottoms and a frown.

“You could’ve called,” he says, bends down to ruffle a hand into an excited Eleanor’s fur.

“I know.” Henry says, utterly apologetic.

“Dude I thought you really were gonna end up needing that fucking candle,” Alex tells him.

“I— I’m sorry.”

Henry’s not sure if it was the stutter he let out just then, or if he finally had gotten close enough for Alex to spot the wetness tracing down his cheeks, but almost immediately Alex’s expression goes stunned, then confused, followed by angry until it lands on something painfully contrite.

“Baby,” he says in a hush, and the open way that word comes out of him— pleading and hurt and wanting all at once— is enough for a new round of tears to flood Henry’s eyes and for his body to begin trembling while his heart  lodges up into his rapidly shutting throat.

Henry thanks his every star that he’s got Alex. That he has someone he can trust so implicitly, so thoroughly that he isn’t afraid when his brain shuts off and he just falls into his fiancé’s embrace, plunging his face into the juncture of Alex’s head and shoulder and just sobs, let’s the sadness just swallow him whole and lets himself remember his father and remember his family and remember when everything had been so effortless.

Somehow, seamlessly, Alex carts him and their pup indoors, helps Henry shed himself of his jacket and shoes before pressing him down onto their bed, and wraps him up into his favorite blanket. Henry absently knows that when Alex leaves him to his solitude it’s because he has to make sure Eleanor is taken care of and has to shut down everything around the house, but that doesn’t stop Henry’s  yearning for him, nor does it stop him for feeling so painstakingly alone.

When Alex comes back it’s with a glass of water, and a bowl of fruit, and a cup of hot coco because he knows that’s what Beatrice makes him whenever Henry is feeling especially sad. Henry wonders if Alex knows it’s an old tradition started by their father whenever their mother had gotten the same way. He’d like to tell him, but feels so very tired that he can’t fathom moving his lips to form around the words, resolves to explain it another day.

“You’re back,” Henry says, hates how desperate he sounds, wishes he weren’t so very inept.

“I love you,” Alex answers, his smile still so fucking bright and his hands so soft as he climbs into bed with him, props Henry’s head on his chest and kisses the line where his hair begins.

Henry starts to cry all over again, and Alex only repeats the affirmation, moves to telling him funny stories of when he and June were younger when that doesn’t work, and then starts to rant about his hellish constitutional law professor because he knows that Henry wants nothing more than a distraction.

Tomorrow Henry will show him the photograph, and Alex will understand  because he knows Mertylewood, hell he’s spent a handful of weeks over there. Then Henry will tell him more stories in exchange for the ones Alex had given him tonight. Then Henry will explain the hot chocolate thing and Alex will listen and laugh and nod and kiss Henry in all the right parts. And Henry will just fall in love with him all over again. Tomorrow Alex will ask if they could have their wedding in Mertylewood because he wants Henry to be reminded of that happiness always, and also because he thinks it’ll act as some sort of tribute to Arthur. Henry won’t say yes right away but he’ll think it, and it will be better, because Alex always makes it better. But for now it doesn’t have to be better, and Henry is so thankful he understands that.

“I really love you Henry, you know that?” Alex asks hours later when the tears have dried away and they’re doing nothing but mapping out the patches of skin on one another’s bodies— reverent  and unhurried and just because they need to be touching one another.

Henry wants to make a joke, thinks that on any other night he’d retort with a playful barb without a second thought, but he can’t make himself do so tonight, it all feels too raw, too real, too fragile.

“I love you  Alexander,” he says instead, cuddles closer to him. “For forever and a day.”

“Forever and a day.” Alex confirms and they fall asleep like that,  tangled in forever and one another and all their tomorrows.

.-

Buy Me A Coffee?💜

[cilldaracailin]

Play The Game

So all those posts were practise for this!

I am back with another story in the Robyn and Taron series!

Hope you are all ready for this one. :)

Suze xx :) 

1

“Happiness is a gift and the trick is not to expect it, but to delight in it when it comes.”

Robyn was calling Taron as she unlocked her front door, dropping her notebook, purse and keys on the breakfast bar. She kicked off her shoes and quickly walked into the kitchen, opened the freezer and took out the tub of Ben & Jerry’s cookie dough she had and grabbed a small tea spoon from the cutlery drawer. She then walked around to her couch to pick up her trusty blue dinosaur for a cuddle as she plopped herself into the corner, the ice cream beside her on a cushion. She had a voice message from Taron asking her to call him as soon as she was finished work as he was bored in his hotel room and wanted to have a chat.

It was a very happy Taron who answered her call but his voice turned concerned after he asked her how her day was and as she quickly started to explain her day in great detail, he could hear the exhaustion, frustration and upset in her voice.

“I am sorry you have had such a shit day chicken. I wish I could be there to give you a hug.”

“I would kill for a Taron hug right now.” Robyn closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself caught up tightly in his arms, as he gave her his traditional squishy hug.

“Well I could fly over for a few hours tomorrow.”

“From New York?” Robyn asked him.

“I am sure I could trudge through the snow to get to the airport.”

“To take a flight that will probably be cancelled and you are too busy doing re-shoots.”

“That also have been cancelled because of the snow and I am stuck in New York in my hotel room by myself.”

“With your throw.”

Taron pulled his beloved throw a little further up his body. “Well at least I have that. It is perfect for this ridiculously cold weather.”

“And I have cwtch to have a cuddle with instead.”

“Yeah but he doesn’t squish back, does he?”

Robyn laughed a little. “No but at least he doesn’t lick me.”

“Hey!” Protested Taron. “I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“That is true.” Robyn snuggled a little deeper into the corner of her couch, burying her head into the blue dinosaur’s fur. She knew she couldn’t smell anything, but her imagination was telling her she could get the faintest scent of Taron’s aftershave. “I also have a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.”

“Ugh I have nothing.”

Robyn laughed into the phone, picturing that scowl that fit his features so well when he was sulking. “You are in the city that never sleeps. I am sure you can get some take away and don’t grunt at me. New York is so much better equipped to deal with the snow then where we live. I am sure you can uber eats something nice to you.”

“Yeah probably.” Taron turned over onto his side on the bed and looked out the window to watch the heavy falling snow. “You would love it right now in New York.”

“If I was there in New York with you, we would be outside in Central Park in the snow.”

Taron laughed as he pulled the duvet up to his chin. “I don’t doubt that for a minute. You sure you are ok?” He asked her again.

“Yeah Taron. Thanks for letting me rant at you and listening to the terrible woes and trials of my day.”

“Anytime chicken. Still wish I could be there to give you that hug though. I know it would make you smile.”

“I will tell you one thing that you have already done today that made me smile and it was something I got in my letterbox when I got home on my lunch break.” Robyn picked up the letter she had received in the post that morning and on seeing Taron’s writing on the front, she was very confused but once she opened it, she smiled. She didn’t have time to call him during her hectic day and once finished work and after hearing his voice mail, she rang him back as soon as she got home. She was distracted though as Taron he asked her how her day went and the subject of the letter slipped her mind but now that she had used him as her emotional crutch, she was feeling a bit cheerier and could concentrate on the white envelope in her hands. “Your letter.”

“You got my letter?” Asked Taron as he turned to lay on his back, nestling down deeper into the warm covers of the bed, pulling his throw on top of the duvet up to his chin.

“Yes I did.”

“And?” He asked as he held his breathe a little.

“I would love to go.”

“Really? I did right by the terms and conditions.”

“Yes Taron, you read them thoroughly and I really would love to go. I absolutely love that movie and to see it as a musical? The music in that movie is beautiful, I can only imagine it on stage.”

“And you don’t have to take a day off work as it is on a Saturday.”

“You planned it well Taron.”

“And the fact that it is the opening night and a red carpet?”

“Is something I have done before.”

“Well it’s not really Robyn. Last time it was more so a party in a private house. This time we are completely in the public eye.” Taron reminded her quietly.

“I read your letter Taron. I know what you are asking me to do and I want to do it.”

“It might open up another can of worms for us.”

“Taron, when I gave you that Christmas present, I knew what I was getting myself into especially when I added the pages about going out in public with you. I know our chat before Christmas shed light on a few things for you about my honest feelings but being on the red carpet with you, knowing you will be there right beside me, I know I would feel just as safe with you as you feel with me when you are here in my home. We have worked through so much Taron and this is another step we were going to have to take at some point so why not start with something smaller like an invite to a new musical. I figure those other vouchers are going to be used for your Kingsman premier so you can see that bloody green dress, so I like that this is a baby step of sorts and more than the musical, I get to see you and get a squishy hug. When this weekend comes around, it will be nearly eight weeks since we last saw each other. I am coming to see you.”

Taron knew it would be eight weeks exactly until he got to see Robyn again but he needed to be certain she was ok with what he was asking of her and that this time, they would actually be walking a red carpet together.  “You absolutely sure?”

“You want me to tear this voucher up?” Robyn picked up the piece of paper that Taron had inside the envelope along with the letter he had written to her asking her to go with him to the opening night of The Prince of Egypt on the Westend in London. It was the ‘go to a musical’ voucher from his Christmas present and Taron had made sure it was a weekend so taking time off work wouldn’t be an issue for her.

“No, I don’t want that. I want you to come with me.”

“Then I will be there but be prepared Taron. I know the songs to the movie this musical is based on backwards and I will be singing quietly along.”

“I am ok with that. I am really ok with that.”

“Good because I consider this your warning that I will be singing, a lot.”

Taron chuckled. “Fine by me and I know you are going to say no but I am going to ask anyway. Do you need help with the flights?”

Robyn grinned into the phone. She always appreciated how Taron let her be herself and never let her feel like she couldn’t pay for things but still would always ask her if she wanted help from him. “I will book the flights. Early Saturday morning and late Sunday evening?” She asked him.

“Perfect. Would you be opposed to me arranging a hotel room for us? It would be easier than trying to get back to my flat in London. I can book two rooms. One for you and one for me.”

“I am not opposed as long as it is not the Savoy or Dorchester. Just somewhere simple and one room is fine.”

“You sure?”

“I am sure.”

“You know cwtch snores. He might need his own room.” Taron was trying to hold his enthusiasm in because he was beyond excited at seeing Robyn again in two weeks’ time and sharing the same bedroom with her.

“Cwtch does not snore! And he won’t be coming so one room is fine.”

“Well I will book one room then.”

“Nothing super fancy Taron.” Robyn reminded him. “You know me.”

“I do Robyn and it will be something simple.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Taron turned his head on the pillow and looked out the window again to the snow. “So, will I send Stella your way again to pick a dress?”

“It’s not black tie is it?” She asked him.

“No not black die but definitely a suit for me and a dress for you.”

“So are we talking fancy fancy dress or just a dress.” Asked Robyn as she reached for the tub of ice cream.

“Well seeing as the dress you wore to dinner with me was just a dress to you then I guess a fancy dress.”

“So not as fancy fancy as what I had for Elton?”

“No not as fancy fancy but still a bit fancy.”

“Taron!” Robyn stopped mid-scope of her ice-cream.

“This is why I asked you if you wanted help from Stella.”

“Ugh.” Robyn replied with a slightly frustrated sigh.

“I will take that as a yes then?”

“She doesn’t need to fly over to me again. Can’t she just send me the dresses and I can try them on and pick one and send them back to her?”

“I wish it would work like that but unfortunately no. She normally has to alter something.”

“On you maybe but my dress fitted perfectly first try on.”

“Oh, I know that!” Laughed Taron. “I saw the dress. Fitted you like a glove.”

Robyn chose to ignore his reply and the blush on her cheeks. “So, the next dress will fit perfectly too.”

“Or Stella could still help you.” Taron heard the hesitation from her. “How about I organise a Skype call for you?”

It was bright and early on the following Saturday morning, much to Robyn’s disgust as she was looking forward to a long lie in, that she sat on her couch with her computer on her coffee table watching as Stella held up a number of dresses in the camera to her.

“These are all beautiful Stella.”

“So I decided that we could steer away from the long dress this time because although it is a formal event, it is not as flashy as Elton’s party so while I still want you to look fabulous, I thought we could change up the style and go with a shorter stress and different colour?”

“How short?” Questioned Robyn.

“Just above the knee.”

“Stella…”

“Just let me show you the one I think you will love before you say anything.”

“Alright.”

Before Robyn could change her mind, Stella held up a burgundy coloured dress with a sweetheart neckline. There was a detailed black lace design that constructed the top of the dress, creating a sleeveless effect and a black ribbon around the middle of the dress that helped to define the waist and there was also a pretty black bow to the left side. It was not anywhere near as extravagant as the dress she worse for Elton’s party, but it still looked chic and the lace added enough detail to the dress so it would be a perfect choice for an opening night at the Westend theatre. It was the skater style skirt that brought the smile to her face and she could see Stella grinning back at her.

“I knew you would like this one and it’s not that short. I don’t think it will fall too short on you all at and so easy to style this one Robyn. Black heels and you can bring a little bit of sparkle with a bracelet and some ear rings and instead of putting your hair up, leave it down, maybe with a curl.”

“Can’t curl my hair to save my life but I can throw in some fancy plaits.”

“Perfect and leave that bold lipstick at home. Stick to nudes.”

“I can do that. Stella can you give me two seconds please?”

“Sure.”

Robyn picked up her phone from the table and held it out in front of her so both herself and Stella could hear the conversation. “Right rocketman, fess up. What suit are you wearing?” She enjoyed the laugh Taron gave her. “Come on Taron. I know you have to be back on set soon and I am not going next weekend if we are going to match again.”

“Stella has helped me pick a black suit with a very light pin stripe effect, white shirt and tie.”

“You’re not going to turn up with a burgundy suit jacket?”

“You picked the burgundy dress?” He asked with surprise in his voice. “I thought you might have picked the sky blue one.”

“I did like the blue one. It was very pretty. Do you not like the burgundy one?”

“No, I liked that one too. You just normally gravitate towards blue.”

“Thought I would change it up a little. Now the truth Taron.”

“I promise. I have a black suit and white shirt, black shoes, black socks and I won’t know the colour of my boxers until I put them on. I also have a white pocket square and a dark blue paisley patterned tie.”

“We are not doing the matching outfits again.”

“No, we are not. I will send on the picture Stella sent to me.”

“Can you do it now?”

“Sure. Give me two seconds.”

Robyn waited and grinned at Stella on her computer screen as she walked back and forth towards the camera holding the dress. She laughed as Stella pointed to the dress and then to the camera, shaking the dress a little and doing a twirl.

“Ok chicken all sent.”

Robyn had a quick look at Taron’s message and photo and smiled to see he was indeed going to be wearing the black suit as described.

“Okie dokie. You are in the clear.”

“And you are in the burgundy dress?”

“I think so. It is still a little elegant.”

“Well I know whatever you chose, will be perfect. Aren’t you glad Stella helped you?”

Nodding her head, Robyn agreed. “Yes Taron. I am glad. Now you had better go and get those re-shoots finished or you will not be home in time for the next weekend.”

“Alright then. I know when I am not needed for the girly fashion talk.”

“Taron, I am not needed for the girly fashion talk either. You know me.”

“Yes, I do but I also know your inner girly girl is getting ready to come out. I will call you this evening during my break and just to let you know, I have hotel room sorted for us, just off Oxford street so we are close to the theatre and we won’t have to travel far.”

“And it is nothing over the top?”

“You will like it Robyn, I promise.”

“Great. Well I am going to hang up now and let you go. Stella is dancing around with the dress now.”

Taron laughed seeing the picture in his head. “Alright Robyn. Talk to you later.”

Ending the call, Robyn set the phone down on the coffee table and turned her attention back to Stella. “Ok Stella, I know you heard all of that. So, Taron is definitely wearing that suit?”

“Yes, he is. He warned me not to make your outfits match. So, we are going for the burgundy dress then?”

“Yep that’s the one.”

Robyn smiled as Stella squealed. “I love styling you. It is so very easy for me and now I know your preferred style, it’s a breeze. It’s a pretty standard dress Robyn so I am not worried about it not fitting you so I think we will be ok just to leave it with Taron and he can mind it for you. If there is any problem, call me and I will get it sorted for you before the red carpet ok?”

“Stella isn’t that taking such a big risk? Can’t you just send it my way and let me try it on?”

“I know this one will fit like a glove Robyn. I have met you, seen you in person and mentally measured you.”

“You can do that?”

“Sure, I can. This dress will fit.”

“Well I trust you Stella. You did such a wonderful job with the blue dress.”

“I can’t take any credit for that one. That was all Taron.” Robyn smiled shyly. “He really loved that dress. Really loved it. Thanked me quite a few times for putting you in it.” Stella finished putting Robyn’s dress back into its cover and sat in front of her laptop. “I know he is going to love the green one I have for you for the Kingman premier.”

“He hasn’t even asked me yet.”

“He hasn’t asked you, but he asked me about the dress and to make sure I keep it for you.”

Shaking her head Robyn picked up her phone as it vibrated against the table. She swiped open her WhatsApp conversation with Taron and grinned as he sent her a picture he had just taken of him in his Eggsy outfit, complete with glasses but on his head, he wore a peaked cap, the one from Eggsy’s casual outfit. “Tosspot.” She laughed at him.

“What was that?” Asked Stella watching as a warm smiled filled Robyn’s face.

“Just Taron being Taron. Well Stella, I trust you and if you say it will fit, it will fit. I already have the shoes to match and can easily add some of my own jewellery.”

“Sounds perfect. I am ninety nine percent sure it will fit Robyn and like I said, if not, just call me and I will come and fix it. I know I don’t need to worry about hair and make-up.”

“Yeah I can do that. Already have a hair look in mind.”

“Oh, you two are going to look fabulous! I love it when you both get to dressed up and go out together. My power couple, taking on the world once again.”

“Stella! Seriously?” Robyn groaned.

“Just telling it like it is Robyn.”

“Well tell it to someone who cares about those things.”

“And you don’t? Is that why you went so bold with your choices last time? ‘Cos you didn’t care? You can secretly care and just tell me and I won’t tell a soul.”

Sighing Robyn slouched back on her couch. “Fine I care.”

Stella grinned into the camera. “It’s ok to care about these things Robyn. I get this is a whole new world for you but believe me, you have already made a huge impression on it and next weekend, both you and Taron are going to do it again and he will take care of you.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second.” Agreed Robyn.

“Then go and have fun and enjoy it Robyn and wear another beautiful dress and get dolled up and hold Taron’s hand and don’t give a shit about what anyone says about either of you. Taron wants you there and when Taron wants something, something so badly, he will do everything he can to get it and I know he will do everything he can to make you happy.”

[spellnbone]

Edgar writes the Theatre & Arts Column for the Daily Prophet. His philosophy is that if someone has a voice, they have to use it to do good; this means that on the one hand one has to push art to its limits or even further, and on the other hand one has to make those voices heard which don’t have a platform yet.

Edgar’s Introduction to Theatre

Much like most families with comfortably filled wallets, the Bones would take their children to the theatre on the weekends quite often. Most of the children adored it but also took it somewhat for granted -- which made the culture shock of moving to England only worse. There are theatres in Hastings, yes but they are small and not at all as dramatic and colourful as what the Bones had grown to know in Mexico. They lacked imagination! And since there was no theatre club at Hogwarts either, it was only on his first trip to London at the age of thirteen that Edgar rediscovered his love for this art.

After that, he began reading and loving play-scripts more than novels, eventually writing down his thoughts, comparing, analysing, interpreting with fervor and a very new, strange sensation growing within him: passion. For someone who found interest in literally anything he encountered (except Quidditch), it was a surprise to many to see Edgar so into something (though one might not forget that his new love for theatre came around the same time as he was beginning to grow apart from Amelia). His friends from school might still remember that one of the best ways to get Edgar talking in a social situation was by expressing a badly thought-out opinion about theatre. Suddenly the shy boy who so often was accused of boot-licking would throw himself into passionate speeches about love, death and every other grand topic of life inbetween.

(One of his favourite topics, that is, urban legends he loved to ramble about for hours was Mundungus Fletcher. Each and every article covering the fiasco was bought six times and each and every time Fletcher’s photograph was cut out and glued to various surfaces; Edgar’s notebooks, the under-side of the topbunk above him, the walls in his room at home. It was the same grotesque-fascination-turned-unstopple-obsession that the Muggle play Cats had about ten years later).

It was during this time also that Edgar began reading the news. Initially he only ever snatched the arts section (despite its terribly boring focus on mainstream theatre), he’d eventually also begin reading the other articles, finding himself growing more and more educated and opinionated about political topics, too.

His passion ended where the stage began, though. He never tried to direct a play, write one himself, or -- Morgana forbid! -- tried to star in one. He was quite content to be but an observer. However, after graduating and leaving England to finally go back to Mexico, he fell in love with an actress of a small travelling troupe (and shortly after with her brother, the director), and before he knew it, he was travelling around the world with them.

When he came back to England, he wrote for the hebdomadal East Sussexian Wizarding paper, simply because the owner was a good friend of the Bones family and needed someone to fatten up the paper with some think-pieces. Edgar neither saw his calling in that nor ever made a name for himself, he was mostly just passing his time, trying to figure out what he really wanted to do with his life. It was only when he met up with Ainsley Abbott again around his 19th birthday that he began considering journalism as a proper career. She’d told him that the Daily Prophet was looking for a new arts columnist and remembered that he had always had a thing for theatre.

London’s Theatres

Contrary to movies, most other Muggle art isn’t completely disregarded by the Wizarding World. Of course one will always find some bloodpurists who think that all magicless art isn’t worth their time, but the more commonly agreed upon opinion is that when it comes to old-fashioned art, Muggles aren’t all that bad at it. The Daily Prophet has therefore always covered the Wizarding Westend as well as the Muggle Westend productions, giving the former more attention but never discriminating between them all too much. They are, after all, similar in many regards: the leads will most likely be traditionally good-looking, born and raised in this country and culture, and introduced to the director by personal connections. The themes of the plays perpetuate conservative values and ideals and have to please the broadest audience possible, therefore not contain any smut or controversial themes.

They’re usually even located in the same buildings as the Muggle theatres, either in magically hidden back halls or underground:

“Two, reserved on the Daily Prophet.”

The lady behind the counter, despite looking just like the other ticket vendors next to her, gave it a nod and handed them their keys. They were small little copper things, meant for a one time use of a door that was titled: “Staffs Only”.

Muggles had this thing to believe that theatres were haunted. The possibility of that, considering just how few people actually died in such places compared to normal apartment houses, were slim, and the idea absurd once you knew what truly caused the mysterious whispers, the unexplained floor-board creaking, and distant moaning: A second theatre down below. Wizarding. Vibrant, crowded, cheerful.

Not having even yet reached the first floor below, the music already met Edgar and Amelia. The chit chat was lively, and unlike the Muggle theatre above, time had not changed the customs of exhibitions and shows here: Roasted-nut sellers were walking around with their goods on a tray hanging down their neck, a fire-spitter was entertaining a group of kids in a corner, and on the stage stood one of the actors, cheering and shouting blurbs about the play in an attempt to motivate the audience. No seats but on the upper balconies, were ladies sat whose robes were so fluffy and wide that their companions for the night attempting to sit next to them probably needed to shout to have their words heard.

The idea to even pay attention to those independent artists who always seem angry or angsty, who always seemed so desperate to speak up about issues that no respectable Wizard would care about? It was unheard of by the general Wizarding Public who didn’t have a great variety of news outlets.

It was only when Edgar accepted his job as the new arts columnist that the ‘Off Westend’ productions -- that is, the exhibits shown in garages, the plays held on rooftops, the stories told by otherwise drowned voices -- were finally given a platform through and by the Daily Prophet.

Edgar’s Own Private Resistance

For about eight years now, Edgar’s been publishing little articles of about 300 to 500 words a day which are usually reviews and recommendations, as well as longer think-pieces on the Sunday edition. They’re all signed E.V.Bones (or at times solely E.V.B when the space is spare), much like his letters, so it all depends on the wit of a person whether they know who is writing the column or not. It’s earning him 6 to 10 galleons per piece, that is 40 to 70 galleons a week, which (at least in modern equivalent) is 210 to 350 pounds a week, so he’s not poor but also far from becoming rich with this. As of now, he never considered changing his job, though. Partly due to the fact that he gets to see all sorts of plays for free, partly because he usually does all his work at the office only once a week (usually a 12 hour work day) and has the rest of the week to deal with Order business. But most importantly he’s still at the Daily Prophet because it allows him to fight this war in his own, quiet terms.

Upon reviewing a play, Edgar always asks two questions: how does this further the progress of art, and how does this further the progress of society? While the opinions in his writing are always expressed quite subtly (as otherwise, Edgar’s arch nemesis Kenny Mack, his editor and son of the Daily Prophet’s current owner, will simply censor out what might be too controversial for the general readership), they’re never suppressed or gentle, certainly never excuse conservative, problematic productions.

(It was because of one of those harsher reviews of his that he met the then-adored Lydia Avery, who he had equated to a piece of morning toast -- something you thoroughly enjoy in the moment itself but would never crave if hungry or a somewhat interesting person. Most of his review had been about the blatant racism of the play, though, and and yet, while up until this day Lydia might still be upset about it, Edgar never left their conversation with anything other than appreciation for her. He’s well aware that actors are a symptom of an ill society, not the illness itself.)

The idea that he could use his job for something bigger, something good, came the night after Ainsley had suggested he take the job at the Daily Prophet. “Me?” he had asked over a cup of tea, not even 20 years old then, not yet in the Order, not yet jaded and made brave by war, not yet used to the idea that every helping hand counted, “Reviewing art for the whole of Britain? Why would anyone care about what I have to say?” “They don’t,” Dell had replied in this earnest way of his, “but it’s not about you anyway. It’s about them. There’s people out there who have no one who listens to them, even though they have something to say, even though so many others want -- no! need! -- to hear what they have to say. It’s not about you. It’s about them. And you’re the one who’s going to make sure they’re heard.” “But the Daily Prophet? It’s so conservative.” “Not your column, it won’t be. Not if you write it.”

What his brother Dell was saying and what Edgar grew to understand over the years, was that there are so many Muggleborns and Halfbreeds out there who never see themselves represented in a positive, hopeful light in stories, or at least by the actors telling those stories. The mainstream theatre productions simply do not care to show such representation, to tell such diverse stories. It’s the back-alley theatres that dare to break the rules of what is acceptable, to break the norm, to help society and art evolve. And Edgar hopes that by writing about this, more people will be able to realise that they’re not alone. That there’s others like them, out there, everywhere. That despite the way the (relatively neutral) Daily Prophet reports it, Voldemort doesn’t have that many people on his side, at least not compared to just how many people are against him. By drawing attention to those smaller plays and their values, he helps to grow and foster a community where like-minded people can meet and share their opinions and realise that they’re not alone at all.

And thus, Edgar had accepted the job, his agenda of political nature, safely tucked between 8 and 11pm, and sometimes also during matinées.

[mwagneto]

szia! this is the budapest anon again i hope i’m not bothering you but my trip to budapest is getting near and i was just wondering if you know of any good restaurants which don’t require reservations ahead of time? we don’t really want to eat fast food and we will cook for ourselves most days but there’s a chance we might want to go out and eat. the price is also kind of important since i don’t want to spend 10 000 forints on one meal lol we will live in erzsébetváros btw. thanks for the help!

oh umm I don't go out to eat a lot but if you take the 4-6 tram, which runs through Erzsébetváros afaik, to nyugati pályaudvar station there's the West End mall which has a lot of places to eat (at the very end of the bottom floor) pretty much every type of food has at least one store there, there's ofc McDonald's but there's really good Italian and Asian food and also just places that sell gen lunch stuff, Greek and Turkish and all others, I really like going there coz the selection is just endless and it's relatively cheap,,, that's the best place I can think of if you want a lot of choices, there's also a lot of places where you can buy gyros for like 400 forints, there's also a kürtőskalács stand near WestEnd that sells one for 350 but it's more of a local snack than a full meal so yeah,,, that's what I'd suggest off the top of my head, if you need smtg more specific just let me know

[thecorpsesystem]

I found another one. Seriously, where are these coming from? -Virgil

Warning: Swearing, Mention of plain crash/accident, Mention of death, Death of a parent(s), Mention/Implied child abuse, Child trying to excuse her mothers horrible actions, Substance abuse, Addiction, Unhealthy copping mechanisms, Implied substance abuse well pregnant, Fluff?

Abuse is never your fault, it is still abuse even if it comes from a family member (parent or sibling, aunt or uncle, etc.), a friend, teacher, co-worker, or a relationship. Abuse does not need to be physical or sexual, it can be emotional as well. Please call a hotline for abuse in your area if you ever feel unsafe in your own home. Abuse is never your fault.

Word count: 1550

--

Still holding hands, Nat nocks on the door of number 133 Westend Drive.

Mrs. Coellee answers the door with a gloomy look on her face.

"What's wrong Mrs. C?" I ask sympathetically. "Oh, today just hasn't been the best day for me. First, I hear from the Norths that you've washed up on their doorstep covered in blood. Which I truly fell so sorry about, and on you're birthday as well." She says shaking her head clutching her sunflower yellow shawl, which lays over her plum coloured dress.

Nat's grip on my left hand tightens as Mrs. Coellee menschen's my 'little mishap'. 

"Then, after I had finished talking to Mr. North, I heard horrible news from the hospital. My mother, she has passed." I place my free hand over my mouth as I gasped. The whole neighborhood know that Mrs. Coellee's mother was sick and in the hospital, but we all assumed she would get better any day now.

"A natural death, they told me." She says clearly not wanting to talk about the passing of her mother. "At least now she is with my father." It's no secret that her father died. A heart attack, it happened almost five years ago.

"Well we should really get going so we need to collect Rachel. I suppose a nice tea and a hot bath will cheer you right up." Says Nat. I glare at my friend, how could she be so insensitive.

"Ah yes. 'Rachel' has already left. 'She' said you'll know where to find 'her'." Mrs. Coellee says using air quotes when she says Rachel, she and her. She waves goodbye as we walk away.

"Should we get our bikes?" I ask. "Sure, lets get mine first." Nat says, leading us in the direction of her house. "You can get it yourself. It would be much faster if we got are own bikes alone." I say, pulling my hand away from hers.

"No, you are not going back to that house alone." She says grabbing my right arm with her left hand. I can feel the tension in the air around us . "I'll be fine, she won't even know in there." I tell my friend with fake confidence. I want her to come with me, but I can't let her know that. I don't want her to think I'm weak or afraid of my own house, or that I need protecting. 

She grabs my arms with her hands, "Promise you'll text me of anything happens." She says looking me in the eyes. The blue meets and green. The tension burns my eyes, while a kaleidoscope of butterflies flutter around in my stomach. 

"I promise."

She runs in the direction of her home, well I run across the concrete road and on to the sidewalk. I run up the driveway of number 138, and luckily last time I road my bike I was too lazy was to put it in the garage. 

I grab my indigo bike and sit on the brown leather seat. I grab the handle bars and kick up my kick stand, I quickly put my two feet on the pedals. I swerve around the silver minivan and red SUV and ride down to the end of the survey. 

Nat's already waiting for me on her dark purple bike, we ride down in the middle of the empty roads as fast as we can. We both pedal as fast as we possibly can, passed the Primary school, passed the movies and passed out the local diner.

We see the entrance to the woods as we turn on to yet another empty street. Normally, unless you want to go into the 'dangerous' woods, you would stop here. But if you want to talk somewhere you can't be heard, than the wood are the only place in this shit town were that's possible.

We pull up to the entrance of the woods, placing our bikes down next to Rachels red bike, telling us we're in the right place.

"Why wouldn't she have waited for us?" Nat asks with a hint of annoyance as we duck through the hole in the tall barbed wire fence. "Probably because she wanted to get there before dark." I presume, pointing up at the pink and orange sunset.

"Yeah but still-" 

"What is my company not enough?" I ask jokingly.  

"N-No I-" 

"Relax, I was just kidding." I reassure her as she steps on a fallen tree branch, sending a shiver down my back. 

I've always loved the wood. It meant spending time outside of my shit house, and spending time with Nat and Rachel. But I never liked how the trees were so thick and close together, the fear of what's behind each one lingers in my body, leaving only when I've made it to the clearing. 

"She wasn't always like this," I say, stopping suddenly remembering my mother before the accident. "What do you mean?" Asks Nat as she stops as well, turning to face me. "When she was twenty-one, she was on a plain with her parents. There was a crash, and only a handful of people survived. All of which, were not her parents." I say slowly, pausing after each sentence.

"I remember hearing about that, but I had no idea they were there." Nat says, " But that still doesn't excuse her from being a horrible mother." She says, crossing her arms as we continue to walk.

"She turned to alcohol as a copping  mechanism, and became addicted to it. She of course hid it from father until they were married and had Robin. We still don't know if she was drinking during her pregnancy with Robin and Joseph." I say, baring my emotions farther down inside me. I don't want to think about it. 

I can feel Nat reaching for my hand and I allow her to take it, intertwining our fingers together. A swarm of butterflies dance in my stomach, and that burning sensation that makes me what to be closer to Natalia only grows as our hands meet.

We make it to the clearing in the middle of the woods, the snow is still wet due to the thunder storm yesterday evening. The leaves that fell from the trees last fall peck through the thin layer of snow. 

Rachel sits on a fallen tree log with her blue coat on the ground in front of her. She hears us emerge from the spruce trees with no leaves, 

"Hey guys," She says looking nerves. "happy bir-" She freezes mid sentence when she sees my bandaged face.

"I know, I look even worse than I did before." I say jokingly. 

"And I didn't even think that was possible." Nat says

"Ouch," I say dramatically as I feel my face go red.

I explain what happened leaving her with an angry expression. "You can't keep letting her do this to you!" She says, almost in a scolding manner. I open my mouth to respond, but she holds up a finger to stop me, "I have something to tell you two. You might want to sit down." She says' gesturing for us to sit on the log. 

Nat Lets go of my hand, making the butterflies and the happy feeling leave me, and sits down on the log. "Come on, sit down." She says to me. "I'm not siting on that, its wet and I personal don't want to get my jeans all wet." I say

"Well then sit on her lap." Rachel says, before I can respond she pushes me on to Nat's lap. I can feel my face go red as I grab on to her so I don't fall off.

"I have to tell you something." Rachel repeats. "Natalia, Patton you know what LGBTQ+ is right?" 

"of course we do Nat's the gayest person alive." I say nodding my head.

"Well..." She says, unzipping her sweater to reveal a navy blue top with the trans flag. The words 'Surprise I'm Trans!' are written in a bold white font. 

For a second I don't understand, but as soon as my confusion fades away I jump up and give my friend a big bear hug. I can feel Nat join in a few seconds after. "I already told mum and Maddison, and I chose the name Ritchie-"

"Like your dad" Nat interrupts as we break apart. 

Mr. Coellee died in car crash about seven years ago,  just after Maddison was born. 

"Yeah, you guys can call me Ritchie, and my pronouns are he/him." Says Ritchie, tears of either sadness or relieve stream down his face.

I'm hoping it's the Latter.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

114 of 2022

We are like onions; we have layers.

Created by --rainboweyes--

Layer 1: Basics Name: Joeri. Age: 32. Date of Birth: You want to know too much. Hometown: Westende, Belgium. Current Location: Bruges, Belgium. Religion: None. Relationship Status: Married. Sexuality: Without details, I’m just a gay dude, but if you want to make things more complicated, then I’m most likely a homo-alterous aroace or so. Most people would feel confused, so I don’t really discuss it. Nationality: Belgian.

Layer 2: Appearance Height: 180 cm, it’d make 5′11 for Americans. Weight: 70 or something. It’s too much. Hair Colour: Brown. Eye Colour: Grey. Hair Dyed/Natural/Highlighted: Natural, I’m still too lazy to dye it, even though I have everything prepared. Or it’s just too hot. Complexion: Quite fair. Musculear, Chubby, Average, Slim, Majorly Underweight: Tall and slender, it seems.

Layer 3: Personality Your greatest weakness: Too many emotions, but not being able to show them. Your greatest strength: Determination. How you would describe yourself: Unique. How you believe others would describe you: Based on what I already know, smart and kind. What is your sense of humour like? Very British. :P What form of intelligence do you believe you possess? Scientific. 5 words that definately DON'T describe you: Shy, dumb, boring, pretty, mean. Something you are proud of yourself for: Overcoming my disability. Something you wish you could achieve: Even bigger improvement of my hand.

Layer 4: Important Favourites Colour: Black and neon green. Animal: Cat. Occupation: The one I have now. TV Show: No particular favourites. Book or Book Series: No particular favourites, I just love to read. Band/Singer: Baas B, Vildhjarta, HRFTR. Song: I’d go with two: Lange Frans & Baas B - Ik Wacht Al Zo Lang & Vildhjarta - Shiver. Car: Renault Clio. I don’t demand much lol. Memory: The year 2018. Restaurant: Wok Palace, it’s an Asian restaurant. Food: Waterzooi. Drink: Beer. Music Genre: Some metal, particularly djent and sludge, and some hip hop, particularly Dutch. Political Party: I hate them all. Decade (for Music, Fashion etc): 90s and early 2000s were pretty neat.

Layer 5: The How Many's How many partners have you had?

Three.

How many sexual partners have you had?

Two.

How many TV sets are in your house?

Three.

How many pets at the moment do you have?

Two.

How many pets in your whole life have you had?

I don’t know, 15? Mostly cats, some were dogs and rabbits.

How many rooms are there in your house?

5 if you count them all.

How many siblings do you have?

One.

How many Facebook friends do you have?

I don’t use Facebook.

How many Bzoink Friends do you have?

I don’t use Bzoink.

How many cars are in your drive?

None because we don’t have a drive, everyone here parks on the street. But we have one car in general.

How many best friends do you have?

More than 10, it seems.

Layer 6: What's What makes you feel the most happy?

Seeing the man I like. My loved ones being happy. Cats. Thunderstorms. Little acts of kindness. Spending time with my family and friends. Travelling. Trains. Long car rides. My job.

What makes you feel the saddest?

When the ones I love are suffering and I can’t do anything about it.

What makes you feel angry?

Injustice and lack of equality.

What in your room right now means the most to you?

This laptop I’m typing on. And of course my husband, but he’s not a thing.

What city do you feel the closest to emotionally?

Not really a city, but the whole district. Middelkerke in Belgium.

What year has been the best for you so far?

2018.

What do you hope to have happened by 5 years time?

Staying healthy.

What gets you up in the morning?

I wake up by myself, optionally alarm clock.

What top do you wear the most often?

These days it’s going to be that Vildhjarta t-shirt.

What game have you loved ever since you were a little kid?

Any game? If so, I loved playing the basketball.

Layer 7: Why's Why did you choose your Bzoink username?

I don’t use Bzoink.

Why is your room the colour that it is?

Because we painted it so? It’s logic.

Why did your parents choose the school you went to?

They didn’t choose any of my schools, I just went to the closest one in a neighbourhood village and the secondary school I chose by myself.

Why do you sometimes feel inadequate?

Not relating to others.

Why do you/do you not have pets?

Because I’ve been growing up with pets and I’m so used to having them.

Layer 8: Relationships Are you in a relationship?

I’m married.

Do you prefer being Single or In a Relationship?

It’s not a martter of preference for me. Relationships are not even on my list of priorities, but since the relationship has happened, we both do our best to take care of it.

Do most of your friends have a significant other?

Most of my friends are married and have children.

Do you get along with most of your friends significant others?

They’re my friends as well.

Do any of your friends dislike your SO, or a past SO of yours?

No, both me and my husband have mutual friends.

What qualities do you look for in a partner?

The same as I look for in a friend.

What are your turn ons?

Eyes. And brains. It doesn’t work with me sexually, though. Liking someone doesn’t mean I want to sleep with them.

What are your turn offs?

People who don’t know what a shower is. Also, people who are overly judgemental, patronising and/or generalising everyone to theor own (mostly low) standards.

Are you conventional in your relationship beliefs or more liberal?

I don’t really understand this question. We don’t have to do everything together, though. We don’t need romantic gestures either.

Do you feel that you lose yourself as an individual when in a relationship?

Absolutely not.

What's the best part about being in a relationship?

Having the great friend in that person.

What's the worst part about being in a relationship?

Sex. That’s it.

Layer 9: Views (Say What Think Of/How To Deal Say What Your Views Are On... Abortion: No opinion, it’s your own conscience. Abuse: Bullying: Cheating: Communism: Corruption (in the police force): Eating Disorders: Foster Parenting/Adopting: Gang Violence: Gay Rights or GBLT Rights: Lol GBLT? I’ve never heard of such abbreviation XD but since we have such rights in my country and I’m a gay dude myself, that just says something, I guess. Homelessness: If it’s by choice, then I can’t help much. Kids Rights: Children should have rights. Legalising Drugs: Marriage: Murderers (Law Relating To Them): Paedophilia: Prostitution: Sexual Predators/Rapists and The Justice System: Transvestism: Voting: Westernisation: Youth (The way they behave): Zoos and Animal Rights:

Layer 10: Some Extra Titbits Does someone having a weird/unkind family put you off being their friend?

No. I’m friends with them, not with their family.

How judgemental would you say you are?

Not judgemental. It came with time, but I can honestly say I’m non-judgemental and quite proud of it.

What topics do you enjoy talking to people about?

Anything that interests me, but I need to make sure they’re interested, too.

When you first meet people, what do you tend to notice about them?

Their eyes.

Are you more creative or logical?

Logical.

What is the most important thing to know about you?

I’m specific in a way.

How many languages do you know fluently?

Two, Dutch and English. And some bits of other languages, French included.

Are you a lover, fighter or a realist?

A realist, but I don’t get the comparison.

Do you find making friends easy or hard?

Depends solely on that person. Some people are so easy to get along with, others are not.

How do you greet people (hi, hey, yo, hello, hiya etc)?

Hallo.

How do you say bye (bye, ciao, cya, adios etc)?

Doei!

If your personality and or looks could liken you to an animal, which one?

Definitely a cat.

Are you the kind of person who finds it easy to see from others POV?

I’m still learning that. I’m improving and I have enough compassion to do this.

What makes a person ugly (take this in whatever context you like)?

If they have a rotten personality, they’re ugly no matter what.

What accent do you have?

West-Flemish. We literally use the softest variant of spoken Dutch, to the point that the rest of Belgium and the whole Netherlands make fun of us.

How comfortable do you feel meeting new people?

It depends on their level of being likeable.

How many languages can you say "I love you" in?

More than 10 for sure.

Tell me something very few people know about you:

I have a genetic connective tissue disorder.

[tonybconscious]

Its Raining, its Pouring... Today it wont be boring Imma keep on attempting to soar and Hopefully I'll be scoring In Atlanta, thinking the weather is despicable You never know what's gonna happen It's sooo unpredictable But I'm not one to play the victim, ya know So I still got to stick, to getting the dough On A day, in the A, when everything is wet I haven't given up. At least not yet Going back to LA on Monday But I gotta make some money on this SUNDAY So, lemmie go and meditate, affirm and even pray In between the raindrops, hoping it'll stop ASHE', NAMASTE Tony B. CONSCIOUS (323)251-4969 www.flydyeart.com Www..consciousent.com Www.tonyb-conscious.pixels.com #music #atlanta #ac3festival #ac3conference #blacktwitter #visual art #westend #hiphop #singing #dirtysouth #soul #neosoul #soulfood #georgia #csharp #raining #nas #tonybconscious #tonybconsciouspoetry #tonybconscious1 #tonybconsciousart (at Georgia Railroad Freight Depot)

[rapsrisingstars]

How to make it on yo own mixing mastering your own music and beats

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Featured artist: Main Evisu - How to make it on yo own mixing mastering your own music and beats

Below is a short interview with the upcoming underground artist Main Evisu.

How did you decide to become an artist?

Main Evisu: I decided to begin rapping at the age 12. My big Kuz Silk was into rap heavy in the 90's and brung me up listening to every rapper known to Mankind. He wrote me my first rhyme and we recorded on a microphone cassette joints from back in the day and I been writing every since he wrote me that first rhyme. Fail in Love now music is the love of my life. It was Love at first Site

The Best advice that was given to me was from my Mother God rest her Soul. She would always say baby U gone be a big time star one day as log as you follow your Dreams. A Dream without action is just sleep is what she would tell me. So when she died this last Febuary I been doing anything possible to get my name out and learning how to record/ engineer my own campaigns here on out. Now I feel like she was right cant just dream

- Main Evisu

What about concerts? Do you play live?

I have not had any shows yet but my music creating a buzz in alot of different places at once. I would Love to get booked for some shows but I aint toar up about just doing any kind of shows just for publicity. Not All press is good press. So I'm just in the Lab working on my shot so I know I want miss it when it come.

Best punchline you ever wrote?

Avant Barksdale Of the Clarksdale we live our dreams painting pictures for the art sale

- Main Evisu

What are you currently working on? Did you release something in the past?

I just finished my new mixtape All for Self. It has like 10 songs I hope to make all singles and go Viral with 1 by 1. People say they listen to music but here my shit and not pay homage to good music because they to into the new stuff. Im a old Rapper and I hate saying samething twice so when u hear me doing it now its beacause thats wats popping but I try not to go to overboard and put out GOOD MUSIC ONLY! I also have a Album Online Called Welcome To Summertime thats a really good starter album 4 me. Great songs on there 4 Real. I want That Bag than played on plenty radio staions around the country just not consistantly like i needed it too.

Last but not least: Would you sign a record contract with a major label?

Yea if the moneys right I would. I would take a small investment type deal also for like 250000 up front to pay back keep my masters give them label credit and a sales percentage but I'm to smart to allow all that. We chop out the middle man and deal with the plug where I'm from u feeel me

Any last words?

Shotout to my hometown Louisville Ky, Born and raised me. Shotout to the whole Eastend of the city where I got my character and swagger and hustle. Shotout To the westend for raising my Mother and majority of my family and for that summertime Louisville feel u cant get nowhere but the west end. Shotout to my hoes thats fwm strong and putting up with my B.S. cause when U a boss u just wanna have fun. Lol! Shotout to my boyz riding Tent making they daily moves holding shit down getting to the bag. The Grind Never Stops.

Where can we contact you?

Main Evisu: https://soundcloud.com/jermaine-sneed-838187018/4-my-boyz

Thank you for your time. We wish you and your career the success it deserves.

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--

Support the culture.

[catacblog]

The summer of 2017 was going to be different than any before.Why, you may ask. Well, let me break it down for you in a simple but meaningful way!

*Also there is a video at the bottom,so if you don’t feel challenged enough to read all of this just take a shortcut and see the experience in a more entertaining way!

Summer 2017 was all about volunteering. Thanks to our sending organization GeyC I had the chance to apply for an EVS in Scotland,UK.At first, I wasn’t so sure about all of this,but our mentor,Gabriel Brezoiu, had reassured us about the safety and beauty of an EVS. And so it was. With all of that being said, I had applied and got accepted into the project after a Skype interview with a lovely young woman, Carla Fyfe,who was going to be our “go to” contact person in Scotland and is is head of Development for A&M Scotland.

The project

The project was entitled ”Breaking Barriers with Banter’‘ and it was a short Term EVS project to Build Common Ground, that took place in Glasgow,Scotland from 8th July- 8th August 2017.We were involved in lots of different activities as volunteers, laughed and made memories and friends for life.The specified activities were football and dance.Our group of volunteers would split into two groups and join in the activities at the two different camps every day during the week.

First week of the project was the hardest. It’s that week when start to get to know each other but it’s not enough time to build up friendships.It’s the experimental week,where you try new things and get out of your comfort zone. Also it was a cultural shock at the beginning to get used to the Scottish slang and dialect. For example, it took me a week and a half to realize that they’re were actually calling the girls “girls” and not “ghettos”.

This has to be,probably,the first wee selfie that I took in Glasgow.Here I am joined by the beautiful, Magdalena from Poland.

In the second week and the remaining ones you could definitely see an improvement in socializing and exploring the surrounding area as well as sightseeing. If the first week were a mess, this would have been the start of the adventure for real this time.

In the short period that we were in Glasgow,we had the chance to see plenty of attractions and even explore the capital city, Edinburgh. Westends has to be my favourite part of Glasgow. There they have this huge,beautiful, free of charge Botanic Garden that you can wonder about on ends.

  Since we are on the topic, here are some other attractions that I’ve visited!

The People’s Palace

Probably one of the coolest place in the city. You can go and have a wee drink and also enjoy a good reading inside a beautiful indoors garden with tropical plants. And if that isn’t enough, you can also visit the museum inside which is dedicated to Glasgow’s history.

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My favourite wee girl in town, Cara aka soon to be the best dancer in the world

  Glasgow Cathedral and the Necropolis 

    Kelvingrove Art Gallery Museum

This museum is HUGE and I mean it. It literally took me 3 days to see it all.

        The University of Glasgow

A magical place to be at. The students from here are so lucky!

I hope this is still there

    And many others!

The city itself is a wonderful place to be at!

    During our last weekend we were taken to visit Loch Lomond and Luss, two beautiful lakes just outside Glasgow.The trip was amazing, even though it was rainy all the time,but that didn’t stop us from having fun!

  To conclude it all, the volunteering experience had its goods and bad,but overall it was a great experience that I’ll remember happily.

Also,as promised here is the video:

European Voluntary Service -Scotland 2017 The summer of 2017 was going to be different than any before.Why, you may ask. Well, let me break it down for you in a simple but meaningful way!

[queenstheatre]

The story of Les Miserables

Looking for some quality time with your dear ones! Get set for a remarkable memorable experience with your loved ones at the Queen’s theatre! The popular London Westend theatre is running the houseful shows of Les Miserables from the last three decades. The story of Les Miserables is adapted from the hugely popular Victor Hugo's epic original novel, Les Misérables.

The award winning show has become the world's longest-running musical and still loved by people from all across the globe. In the year 1985, the show made its debut with lukewarm reviews and was transferred from the Barbican to the Palace Theatre. Finally, the show settled at the Queen’s theatre.

The heart touching London show, Les Mis is set against the backdrop of the French revolution. It revolves around the struggles of ex-convict Jean Valjean. The show depicts how he struggles to escape from his haunted past. The show features a gripping book. One of the key highlights of the acclaimed London show is score by duo Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg, renowned for penning smash-hit Miss Saigon and Martin Guerre.

Les Miserables features some award winning musical numbers like "I Dreamed a Dream", "On My Own", "Stars", "Bring Him Home", "Do You Hear the People Sing?", "Master of the House", "A Little Fall of Rain" and the show-stopping "One Day More". Trevor Nunn and John Caird have originally adapted and directed the musical features. The lyrics are penned by Herbert Kretzmer, set design by John Napier, costume design by Andreane Neofitou, lighting design by David Hersey and sound design by Mick Potter and Andrew Bruce.

The immensely loved show is known for hosting some popular actors such as Sierra Boggess, Danielle Hope, Alfie Boe, Ramin Karimloo, Carrie Hope Fletcher, Rachelle Ann Go and Eva Noblezada, whereas currently stars like Killian Donnelly as John Valjean, Jeremy Secomb as Javert, Steven Meo as Thénardier, Paul Wilkins as Marius, Carley Stenson as Fantine, Karis Jack as Eponine, Jacqueline Tate as Madame Thénardier, Hyoie O'Grady as Enjolras and Charlotte Kennedy as Cossette are performing at the theatre.

The three hours long show is recommended for 7+ kids. So, come and experience the magic of award winning London show, Les Miserables at the Queen’s theatre.

[ricardosousalemos]

The Courtneys: II

The Courtneys are charmingly droll. The Vancouver trio includes but one Courtney, née Courtney Garvin, who rips vivid fuzz-guitar riffs alongside bassist Sydney Koke and singer/drummer Jen Twynn Payne. Their music—a bit gray, slightly lopsided—recalls velvety 1980s kiwi acts such as the Clean and Look Blue Go Purple. Crucially, though, the Courtneys bust out of the ramshackle Dunedin sound with bold, driving arrangements and thrilling pop sense. They have covered U2’s “I Will Follow” live and mention the influence of Teenage Fanclub and Big Star. Accordingly, the Courtneys feel like a punkish band with clearly-outlined emotions and a cheekily arena-rock spirit. On their supremely catchy second album, II, they lock into a real groove. They tactfully pair simplicity and strength. They make sad songs sound like a blast.

Something about the presence of a singer/drummer always communicates a discernible vulnerability. It emphasizes just how badly this person wants a voice—enough to carry both a tune and a beat—and turns a song into an act of conviction. To a degree, this amplifies the reaching emotionality of II. Singing in her endearingly nasal tone across the album, Payne is—to borrow a phrase from That Dog—totally crushed out.

Payne has said II is “75% about crushes,” which feels like a modest appraisal. Though there are more oblique songs about iron deficiency, the movie Lost Boys, a distant Virgo, and alien abduction, the bulk of II is about longing—the harshest emotion. “Can’t get you out of my head/Even through the miles,” Payne sings wistfully on “Silver Velvet.” It feels like driving into a sunset, and the bubblegum sentiment at its heart (“And nothing you say!/And nothing you do!/Can stop me from thinkin’ about you!”) sounds squarely fit to be shouted into hairbrush-microphones everywhere. Through the many disarming hooks of “Minnesota,” she pines, “And I never wanted you to go/But you had to.” Likewise, “Country Song” is liminal: “I know I’m going but I don’t know when,” Payne sings.

Among all of these uncertain feelings, the music of II is appealingly concrete. II is a lovesick album, but its songs lift off. There’s a steadiness to its build, a comforting antidote to all of the unsteady feelings. Even the seven-minute jam of “Lost Boys” is sharp and measured, never losing itself. The sun-streaked riffs of “Tour” pry open like a window on a long highway drive. It sprawls, capturing the restlessness that comes with transience, grounding a self-help mantra: “What you are and what you want to be/It takes a long time.” On “25,” Payne fruitlessly chases the object of her affection, and she evokes the true emotional horror of a two-sided gemini: “I’m a gemini/And I change my mind/Always change my mind.”

As Payne attempts to cope with heartache, the chorus of “Minnesota” is distilled yearning: “If you go away/I hope that you will know,” she sings, “That I’ll miss you so/Not easy to pretend it’s not hard to let you go.” These are evergreen subjects within an evergreen sound, to be sure, but II proves their cyclical natures—especially given its remarkable energy. The songs are viscerally anguished, but they don’t wallow. There’s an essential, breezy levity to the music; the parts require one another. The whole of II moves forward and on.

The democratic alchemy of the Courtneys makes this music feel humbly triumphant—like they collectively work through the confusion that Payne describes. Speaking with Westender, Garvin shared a story that underscores both their wry humor and this internal logic. She is a 2D animator by day, and once, Nickelodeon asked her to pitch a series. Garvin devised a cartoon based on the Courtneys, but differences with the network kept it in limbo. “If you have a show with three characters, one needs to be the leader and the other two have simplified characteristics,” Garvin said. “I just realized right away that wasn’t going to work for our band. It’s really important that we’re very equal.” They animate an egalitarian spirit on II instead.

[tonybconscious]

Its Raining, its Pouring... Today it wont be boring Imma keep on attempting to soar and Hopefully I'll be scoring In Atlanta, thinking the weather is despicable You never know what's gonna happen It's sooo unpredictable But I'm not one to play the victim, ya know So I still got to stick, to getting the dough On A day, in the A, when everything is wet I haven't given up. At least not yet Going back to LA on Monday But I gotta make some money on this SUNDAY So, lemmie go and meditate, affirm and even pray In between the raindrops, hoping it'll stop ASHE', NAMASTE Tony B. CONSCIOUS (323)251-4969 www.flydyeart.com Www..consciousent.com Www.tonyb-conscious.pixels.com #music #atlanta #ac3festival #ac3conference #blacktwitter #visual art #westend #hiphop #singing #dirtysouth #soul #neosoul #soulfood #georgia #csharp #raining #nas #tonybconscious #tonybconsciouspoetry #tonybconscious1 #tonybconsciousart (at Atlanta-West End)