#next to normal westend

[midnight-wonder]

A little PSA About Theatre!

Seeing that Jack Wolfe is doing Next to Normal is amazing!! Literally SOBBING!

However!! I feel it's really important to remind people of like stage door etiquette! These are not characters, they are humans. Next To Normal is an incredibly heavy and emotionally challenging musical, and there's going to be nights when the performers need to just go home and rest.

While I get it can be upsetting not meeting them, they are all still human at the end of the day. Doing a show eight times a week, plus rehearsals, and they deserve to rest!!

So I just think people need to be mindful of this, support local theatre and actors but respect their boundaries! ❤️

[ghostlysodo]

the next to normal fixation is back baby (it never went away)

[gr3yw4r3n]

if someone wants to talk about Next to normal (or any musical really) please do befriend me. My brain chemistry was altered when I watched n2n in the westend last month and i'm dying to talk about it.

[screen1ne]

THE ACCLAIMED CAST OF NEXT TO NORMAL RETURN AS THE DONMAR WAREHOUSE PRODUCTION TRANSFERS TO THE WEST END

The acclaimed cast of Next To Normal return as the Donmar Warehouse Production transfers to the west end. Get all the details here #NextToNormal #Theatre #WestEnd

The critically acclaimed cast of the smash hit Donmar Warehouse production of the Broadway musical Next to Normal – which sold every seat at every performance across its season at Donmar Warehouse, where the production made its long-awaited UK Premiere – are to return as the show prepares to transfer to London’s West End. Next To Normal – which has just been nominated for the most Whatsonstage…

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

333 of 2023

Summer Shenanigans ☀️

Created by joybucket

When was the last time you went swimming? 🏊‍♀️

I can’t swilm. Yeah I was born and raised at the sea lol.

Do you prefer one-piece or two-piece swimsuits?

I’m a man.

Do you prefer summer mornings or summer nights?

I like both, but summer mornings are magic.

What is one thing you hate about summer?

Too hot sometimes.

Have you ever met anyone named Summer?

No, I haven’t.

Name three people you know who have summer birthdays.

My mum, Nielsje, and my cousin Sylvie.

What is one of your favorite memories from summer camp as a kid?

I’ve never been on a summer camp.

When was the last time you enjoyed a cold shower? 🚿

When it was hot outside and I came back home.

Do you think you look better in green or blue?

I don’t care, I wear what I like.

Have you danced in the rain yet this summer?

I find this whole “dancing in the rain” thing cheesy as fuck.

What is your favorite thing about summer?

Long days. And thunderstorms.

When was the last time you drank lemonade? 🍋

We don’t have it here.

Do you prefer Minute Maid Lemonade or fresh-squeezed? 🍋

I don’t know what it really is. I know the brand, though. Good fruit juices.

Do you spend more time outside or inside?

Outside, definitely.

Would you consider yourself an outdoors person?

Very much so.

How many times in your life have you been stung by a bee? 🐝

Maybe once or twice. I don’t count.

Do you like to wear bright colors? 🌈

Only if there’s black as a background.

Are you afraid of bees? 🐝

No, they’re very useful. I’d rather not be stung by one, though.

Have you ever stepped on a bee? 🐝

I don’t think so.

Do you prefer pineapple 🍍 or coconut 🥥?

No.

Have you ever drank milk straight from a coconut? 🥥

No, but I drank it from a glass.

What type of tree is the closest tree to your house?

Chestnut tree.

Have you ever had a scary incident in which you almost drowned?

No, because I’m careful with water.

Do you prefer beaches or swimming pools?

Beaches, definitely. That’s how I was raised.

What is one of your favorite summer reads? 📚

I don’t divide books by seasons. Anyone does it, actually?

What is one thing you normally do in the summer that you have not yet done this year?

Visited Poland. Gonna depart next week, though.

What is one new thing you've done this summer that you have never done in summers past?

Can’t think of anything. I’ve been doing lots of things each summer.

List three things you like about county fairs. 🎡

What are county fairs?

Do your legs feel itchy when you sit in the grass?

Always. I have seasonal allergies.

What is a song that reminds you of summer?

Joutsenlaulu by For My Pain.

Have you ever had a really bad sunburn? 🥵

Yeah, I have. I have really fair skin for a dark-haired person.

What is your favorite beach that you've been to, and why? 🏝️

Sint-Laureinsstrand, Westende. I was basically raised there and I will always love it.

Have you ever vacationed on an island?

Yeah, Bornholm in Denmark.

What was your favorite type of ice cream to get from the ice cream truck as a kid? 🍦

There’s no such thing as ice cream trucks here.

List three of your favorite things to do in a swimming pool.

Why going to the swimming pool whn there’s a beach nearby?

When was the last time you attended a pool party?

Never.

Do you prefer funnel cakes or elephant ears?

I’ve never heard of either of these.

Do you prefer soft-serve ice cream cones or snow cones? 🍧 🍦

No.

Have you ever tried deep-fried Oreos?

Lol no. People have weird ideas sometimes.

List three of the best amusement park rides you have ever been on. 🎢

I’ve never been on any, they don’t allow people with epilepsy there.

What's the best thing that's ever happened to you in the summer?

Spending the whole summer at my grandma’s.

How far away do you live from your favorite park? 🌲

About 1.268 km? My favourite park is in Poland.

When was the last time you ate fresh watermelon? 🍉

Watermelon is disgusting.

What is one thing you miss from summers past?

Spending vacation at my grandma’s.

Do you think you look better with or without a tan?

Who cares actually? I’m not here to be watchede by people.

Which name do you like best for a girl: Summer, Rain, Joy, River, or Skye?

Jesus Christ. Are those even names?

Which name do you like best for a boy: Storm, Rain, Chase, River, or Ocean?

...lolwut? Are those even names, too?

Do you like the name Ocean better for a girl or a boy?

I’ve never understood this American trend of naming people after random objects.

When was the last time you collected seashells at the beach? 🐚

Last week.

List three things you have in common with mermaids. 🧜‍♀️

What? WTF kind of question is that even.

Do you believe in mermaids? 🧜‍♀️

No, I don’t.

When was the last time you watered a plant? 🪴

Years ago, we don’t have plants in our house.

List three things you can see from where you're sitting right now that are yellow.

Abox of crisps, a highlighter, a pencil.

Do you like to dance in the rain? 🌧️ 💃

No, I find it stupid.

What color shorts are you wearing right now?

Who said I’m wearing any shorts at all? Okay they’re black.

Do you prefer hamburgers 🍔 or hot dogs 🌭?

Both, depending on what I fancy. I’m not a big fan of either, though.

And last but not least, did you enjoy this survey?

Kind of. Some questions were totally irrelevant.

[avantiskinclinic]

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(Get the Direction)

[things-you--should-know]

If you climb on my back, then we both can fly

I'm alive - next to normal

[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.

[absurdwonderland]

Eden Espinosa Live in London 

15/3/17

[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.

[starkidlabs]

Tagged by @pigfartsranger394

Rules: Put your music library on shuffle. List the first 10 songs that come up, then tag 10 people.

1. Miss Jackson- P!ATD

2. Last of the real ones - FOB

3. Step One - Kinkyboots Westend cast

4.Spy Again (reprise) - Spies Are Forever

5. Runnin' Home to You - The Flash

6. Song of Forgetting - Next to Normal

7. The Night Belongs to Snarl - Firebringer

8. Rich With Me - Flopstoppers

9. Natasha & Bolkonskys- The Great Comet

10. You Will Be Found - DEH

I tag: @pansexualwinnschott @willhxrxndxle @chaotic-mewtral @yasssciscospheonix @hermoingoboingo @majesticramon @blindobi-wan @ciscoslittlehufflepuff @hummingbird63 @cheshireelims

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

299 of 2022

Do you have a gay uncle?

No, but I am the gay uncle.

Do you have braces?

No, never did.

Do you like ice cream cake?

I like it better than normal cake.

Do you wash your hair everyday?

No, every two days. Washing hair every day is not healthy.

Do you have trouble sticking to promises?

Not at all. Promises are sacred to me.

Have you ever made out with someone of the same sex?

Yeah, only with the same sex. I don’t like making out anyway, though.

Do you have pothead neighbors?

Oh my God tell me something about it, we have a Dutch neighbour and he’s growing weed in his backyard.

Do you know how to change a tire?

I’m alwaus surprised that there are some people who don’t know it.

How big is your backyard?

Very tiny.

What kind of headphones do you have?

Blue Beat ones, the best headphones I’ve ever had.

Do you ever dream of yourself dying?

Nope.

Do you know any Simmish words?

No and I don’t need this knopwledge for anything.

Where is your second home!?

Here where I live. My first home is where my heart is.

Ever used a swear word the wrong way and sounded completely stupid?

No, is that even possible? Maybe if you try to swear in the language you don’t even speak.

Do you have a webcam?

Every laptop has one.

Do you know what 143 means?

I love you, or so. It’s cheesy.

How often do you go to parties?

Every once in a while.

Do you sleep in awkward positions?

According to my husband, I do.

Do you experience a lot with new looks on yourself?

No. I love my style.

What are you doing right now?

This survey, I guess.

Do you wish you had more money?

It wouldn’t hurt. Especially these days.

If your computer shut down for a month, would you die!?

I’m not 14. Next time don’t forget to add more exclamation marks, though.

What song always makes you sad?

This one. It’s the theme song of my life anyway.

Have you ever played a game that required removing your clothes?

No. I wouldn’t even.

Where is your favorite place to be kissed?

Forehead. Which is tricky because I’m the tall one.

Do you ever quote your favorite movie in normal conversations?

I’m not even interested in movies, let alone have favourites. It’s stupid anyway.

Do people ever tell you that you look stoned when you’re not?

All the time.

Do you suffer from anxiety or depression?

Yeah, I do.

Waffles or pancakes!?

Waffeltjes en poffertjes, I win.

What kind of car do you drive?

Renault.

What are you wearing right now?

Black hoodie and grey wide leg trousers.

Have you ever seen The Happening?

No and I’m not interested.

Do you think Hallmark holidays are pointless?

WTF is Hallmark holidays even?

What is the exact time that you were born?

Around 11:30, I guess.

Where did you live in 2000?

Westende, Belgium.

What do you do when vending machines steal your money?

It has never happened to me. Apparently our machines are better than yours.

What do you do on a typical Friday night?

Anything. Going out with friends, staying in with friends, staying in alone.

Are you currently using a laptop or desktop?

I’m always on laptop. We have one desktop PC, but I don’t use it.

Do hospitals freak you out?

No, they’re oddly comforting. And I’ve grown emotionally attached to this hospital I’ve been to.

What about cemeteries at night?

Boring.

Do you floss your teeth every day?

No, it’s difficult.

Do you have any nervous habits?

I bite my nails and my lips a lot.

What is your favorite Nintendo 64 game?

I don’t play games. They don’t have epilepsy warnings for nothing.

Can you count to 100 in Spanish?

No, not in Spanish. I can do it in Dutch, though.

Were you mean as a little kid?

No, I was cute. At least according to others.

What’s bothering you right now?

Oh no, this question again. This is what’s bothering me now.

Have you ever given your number to someone then later regretted it?

Yeah, after she started sending me creepy and suggestive messages.