#the battle for mrs claus’ hand. in marriage

[crowthefox9000]

I wasn’t lying when I told you I was making propaganda

@winkwonkblog

[secretlytherealsonicthehedgehog]

@hyperfang6900 JUST YOU WAIT, MRS. CLAUSE WILL BE MINE.

[hyperfang6900]

you guys better watch out..i’ve been training..

[wyrdunicorn11-blog]

Transformation

I have spent such a long time looking in the mirror trying to make sure I am "fitting in" to what others thought I should be.

Because the answer when I was 12 years old and attempted suicide, because I had been raped, wasn't for my parents to pursue my rapist. It was to question if I had just dreamt it all and get me to realize my worth because I was "Such a pretty girl"

So I went to modeling school, had boyfriends, tried to make and then lost a lot of friends because my adoptive mother lied. She told the mother of the boy I was dating that I had blamed him for my rape.

Something I've just learned in the last couple of years, it ended up being one of the final straws that led to my sobriety from alcohol.

I spent such a long time looking for who they wanted to see in the mirror while secretly wishing I could have neon hair and an alternative style.

Instead I was a horse-girl and needed to uphold their ideal of beauty. How else to cement that by having me join a pageant! Then when I got a mildly alternative hair cut before hand, think long bob with very mild Mavis bangs, I was blamed for RUINING MY CHANCES and then was given a different, very short hair cut that was ugly as hell.

I became a mother at 15 to a child I miscarried, then a mother to a living child at 18. Let me tell you about how much worse the body dysmorphia got when I ended up on bedrest due to Pregnancy induced hypertension. By the end of my pregnancy I was 309 pounds.

The following years were spent on what I could do to attempt to lose weight while also battling depression and thinking that Marriage was going to fix all my problems. HA!

I went through SO many different diets and styling and hair colours and and AND! It didn't matter*shrug*

I ended up having a long and terrible relationship that I should have nipped in the bud. But I had been trained for so long that I needed to make sure I was a good wife and started a family. How could I go back on all that grooming? How could I not be blind to the fact the man I had spent half of my life with was a narcissist?

It's been a really long uphill battle with depression, body dysmorphia,  anxiety, CPTSD, just low self worth due to the fact I was forced into an open marriage because I was so "Fat and unattractive" My husband, who I had devoted my whole being to, had to watch porn to "get it up" to have sex with me. Then throwing myself into mostly meaningless flings with random friends, Save for my Giraffe. I don't know where I would be if it hadn't been for him and the love and support he still gives me to this day. To be clear, my Giraffe is not my boyfriend, he is someone I was friends with who ended up spending some saucy afternoons with me. He is one of the only people who remained my friend throughout the whole fiasco and one of my biggest cheerleaders who has helped me find a love of myself.

Now my Dragon on the other hand. I met him through Mrs. Claus. The first woman to really make me feel beautiful and uplifted during my darkest times. But the story of meeting Dragon is a whole 'nother thing.

The point of this long windedness is that I am finally seeing who I!!!!!!!!! ME I SEE ME!!!! In the mirror more and more each day. I see my crazy hair, glitter and ugly Abuelita glasses and think: DATS ME! And I feel happy about it.  I definitely need to work out more, for my own health not because of looks necessarily. But my Transformation is nearing completion. It's nice feeling not only like my real self but also that I think they are pretty. Maybe one day I will feel Beautiful and I look forward to that day. That will be the day my Transformation is complete.

[antiquecompass]

Untamed Winter Fest Day 17: Bells

The Jiang Holiday Extravaganza was an entire fortnight of excess that even after four years still shocked Xichen in the five minutes of peace, quiet, and reflection, he got to himself at Lotus Pier. At least he’d learned how to avoid all those damn demon elves on their shelves, especially since Jiang Cheng always exorcised their room of them when they arrived. He also knew which  bathrooms to avoid (near the library and off the living room with their Santa and Mrs. Claus toilet seat covers respectively), and how to kindly suggest a theme to Madame Yu for the Christmas tree in their bedroom. The first year had been a tree full of teddy bears, and while not offensive in any way, half of those ornaments sung in voices eerily reminiscent of The Chipmunks. Many were motion activated. He’d come out of a sound sleep his first night here, terrified, as Nutmeg tried to climb the tree and a freakish high-pitched voice sang ‘Up on the Rooftop.’ This year Madame Yu had apparently found some mercy and picked deer. Glittery deer, but just deer. None of them sang or played music, though the large light-up display on their fireplace mantle did. It was a compromise Xichen embraced. Mostly because he’d easily found the off-switch on the musical Santa train.

The sheer amount of food and all its richness? That was still a struggle. He had consumed far too many desserts at the Christmas Eve party and now regretted it as he laid on their bed, waiting for Jiang Cheng to return with Sugar. Honey, their new puppy, was already in her bed in the corner, fast asleep. Cinnamon and Nutmeg had claimed the library as their territory, but Pepper was on the bed beside Xichen, stretched out over all the pillows.

He truly wanted nothing more than to roll over and sleep with her soft purrs lulling him into dreams, but there was one Christmas tradition he had come to fully embrace and he was going to stay awake for it, even if the sugar crash in his system was demanding sleep.

This was why Uncle had always forbid food excess, especially sweets.

He smiled as their bedroom door opened, Jiang Cheng carrying the crisp, cold scent of the outdoors on his skin and in his hair. He carefully placed Sugar on the bed, then sat down between her and Xichen, stroking Xichen’s hair.

“The great Lan Xichen. Defeated by fudge,” he teased. His fingers moved to his belly and rubbed it in warm circles. “How far you have fallen.”

“It was very good fudge,” Xichen said. “I know you still have your problems with him, but Jin Zixuan is a talented baker.”

“It’s one of his few good traits,” Jiang Cheng agreed.

When he leaned down to kiss Xichen, he could taste the remnants of peppermint and chocolate. Xichen wasn’t the only one who had an excess of sweets tonight.

“I’m going to grab a shower while I can,” he said. He ran a thumb over Xichen’s lips, a soft smile on his face when Xichen caught it and gave it a sharp bite. “I’d ask you to join me, but I don’t think you’re capable of moving.”

“Probably not,” Xichen admitted. “The spirit is willing, the body refuses.”

Jiang Cheng sighed and patted Xichen’s belly again. “This is what I get for hitching myself to your old, broken down, wagon.”

“I am four years older than you,” Xichen said.

“And yet one of the oldest people in this house,” Jiang Cheng said as he slipped off the bed.

“We can’t all be sat at the kid’s table,” Xichen said.

Both Jiang Cheng and his brother had been placed there to watch over the younger cousins and their nieces and nephews. That was the story at least. Xichen had experienced enough Jiang family dinners to know it was more to do with Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng, two grown men, always being on the verge of a food fight.

“Can you honestly say you enjoyed your time at the main table?” Jiang Cheng asked as he pulled out his pajamas. “Enlightening conversation with Uncle Yi about different wood grains?”

“Each day brings a chance to learn something new,” Xichen said.

“Baby, you are so full of shit,” Jiang Cheng said with a laugh as he walked out into the hallway.

**********

Xichen had fallen asleep despite his best intentions, but when he woke up from his dessert-induced nap, Jiang Cheng was beside him, hair down and loose, reading glasses on, with his Kindle in his hands.

Xichen still couldn’t believe he had the good fortune to fall asleep and wake-up and live beside such a man.

“Sorry,” he said.

Jiang Cheng startled, but set his Kindle to the side.

“You were fighting a losing battle,” he said. He slid down to press up against him. “I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did.”

“Did I miss it?” Xichen asked.

This was their tradition. On Christmas Eve, late at night, when the house was quiet and nothing could be heard but the sound of the bells and windchimes on the porch, they exchanged their gifts to each other. The private ones. The sentimental ones. The ones they wanted to keep just between them without the eyes of the entire family on them and without any running commentary from certain vocal parties.

Wei Ying and Madame Yu both had very pointed opinions on gifts.

“It’s 11:50,” Jiang Cheng said. “You woke up just in time.”

He reached under his pillow and pulled out a slim box.

“Merry Christmas,” he said.

Xichen reached under his own and pulled out the slim wooden chest he’d commissioned to hold the small glass figurines inside.

“Merry Christmas,” he said.

It was Jiang Cheng’s year to open his present first. Xichen eagerly waited to see his face.

“These are--” Jiang Cheng’s voice went soft. “These are our pets.” He looked at Xichen, fingers carefully trailing over the glass figurines inside the box. “How?”

“I ran into a few old friends from college when I had to chaperone that school trip to the Renaissance Festival. One of them is a glassblower, the other a woodworker. I know they’re not like the tiny crystal ones you collect but--”

“They’re perfect,” Jiang Cheng said. He pulled Xichen in a deep kiss. Then another. And another, before finally turning back to the box, the softest smile on his face. “You even got Honey in here.”

“A last minute addition,” Xichen said. The little glass Honey had arrived days before their departure.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng said. “I love them.”

His fingers danced over the tops of the five glass figures again before carefully closing the box and setting it on his nightstand.

“Your turn,” he said.

Xichen picked up the slim box and heard a slight rattling inside.

“Not a necklace,” Xichen said.

“No, you don’t wear those,” Jiang Cheng said, fingers unconsciously wrapped around the jade lotus pendant hanging from his own neck.

“A bracelet?” he asked. “A fountain pen? A letter opener?”

“Stop guessing and just open it,” Jiang Cheng said.

“The guessing is the fun part,” Xichen said. He carefully started to unwrap the paper.

“Just open the damn thing,” Jiang Cheng said.

Xichen deliberately opened the present even slower, just to see that frustrated furrow between his boyfriend’s brows.

When he finally opened the box, he forgot how to breathe.

He’d resigned himself to the fact that there would never be a wedding for them, even though he knew they’d be together for life. Jiang Cheng was very vocal about his hatred for weddings and a general apathy towards the institute of marriage when legal ties and an agreed life-long commitment was just as valid in his eyes. So Xichen knew he wouldn’t have an engagement or a wedding or a marriage in the legal sense.

But this--this was--this was the Jiang Bell.

A silver bell engraved with the design of a nine-petal lotus hung on a royal purple tassel. It was sacred to the Jiangs. Similar to the Lans and their forehead ribbon. And was meant only for family members.

“Legend has it,” Jiang Cheng said in the wake of Xichen’s silence, “that the bell can calm the mind and clear the spirit. I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s a family tradition. I’ve been lobbying to get you one for years now and my Great Aunt finally gave up the goods.”

Xichen was still at a loss for words. His fingers shook as he removed the bell from its box. A soft ringing filled the room.

“You’re my family. We’re our own little family, cats and dogs included,” Jiang Cheng said. “And it was time you had your own.”

“You,” Xichen said, laughing even as happy tears filled his eyes. “I got you little glass animals and you give me--”

“What is rightfully yours,” Jiang Cheng said.

He kissed the tears on Xichen’s cheeks, his fingers wrapping around Xichen’s own where they held the bell.

“I love you,” Xichen said. All he could say when words truly failed to express what he was feeling and the depths of the emotions running through him.

An excess of love, of devotion, of trust, of dreams fulfilled and even more hope for the years ahead of them.

“Of course, I’ve now fucked myself over,” Jiang Cheng said. “No present is ever going to top this one.”

“No,” Xichen agreed. “But I somehow think you’ll still beat me, again, like you have, every year.”

“We’re going to disagree on this one,” Jiang Cheng said. “You gave me the menagerie in tiny glass form that I can have forever.”

And Jiang Cheng had given him his family, completely, fully, now.

“A draw then,” Xichen said, even if they both knew who had won this year.

“A draw,” Jiang Cheng agreed.

[snowbellewells]

Beautiful in the Broken Places

A CS Secret Santa 2k18 gift for @kitsunewingstar  (I wish I could do art to go with it, but I sadly have no skill or know-how with that)

Hello, and I hope you will enjoy this little Christmas story full of cookies, cuddles, and CS future family fluff!  This is a gift for @kitsunewingstar, and though it is a day late, I do send it to you with all my best wishes for a safe and happy holiday season and a bright New Year my new friend!!

This takes place a few years after season six, sometime in the time after Henry leaves to find his own story during season seven, but instead takes place in the peaceful domesticity I hope Emma and Killian were able to enjoy back in Storybrooke as a married couple with a little one.

Merry Christmas and without further adieu, here is my CS Secret Santa 2k18 gift story!!

“Beautiful in the Broken Places”

By: @snowbellewells

Snowflakes drifted lightly on the crisp winter breeze outside the Swan-Jones home in Storybrooke, Maine, making the pale, grey day look as wintry and bright as it should a scant few hours before Christmas morning.  The downy flecks of feathered white sifted to Earth, gradually covering the spacious yard leading all the way to their dock and stretch of the shore, much to the delight of Hope Swan-Jones, where she stood on the seat of a kitchen chair, braced lightly by her mother’s watchful hands, peering out the window toward the choppy waves with her little palms on the countertop for balance, looking out the window in awe at the bright, almost magical blanket on the ground, turning dry, wintry brown to startlingly beautiful white.

“Okay, Hopey,” Emma finally urged, trying to move on with their task before her husband got home for supper. A light chuckle crept into her voice as it often did at using her daughter’s self-chosen moniker. One that she could only imagine came from the little girl’s having an older brother whom she idolized named Henry, and two little friends - Thomas and Ashley’s second child Toby and Philip and Aurora’s little girl Mary - making her think her name should end in a ‘y’ too. Emma would have never imagined herself, even a mere five or six years ago, using cutesy nicknames with a second child of her own, puttering away in the kitchen so the place would smell of fresh-baked cookies for her husband’s return. After all the loneliness, pain and doubt of her early life, and the danger, trial and loss of her first few years as the Savior and lost princess when she and Killian’s story began, what she had before her seemed almost too happy and idyllic to be real. “Ready to get down now?” she asked again. “We’d better start icing these cookies if you want some ready for Papa when he gets home and to leave out for Santa tonight.”

“M’kay!” Hope chirped enthusiastically, jumping down from her perch to scamper over to the table once more, then crawling back up to sit when her mom moved the chair over into its original place, already bouncing excitedly in her seat as Emma came to sit beside her, patiently showing her how to slather the homemade mix of milk and powdered sugar white icing over cutout baked sleighs and bells, Christmas trees and stars, and gingerbread men and women.  Emma iced with her for several minutes, affectionately amused at Hope’s focused concentration on the task until the oven timer went off, signaling that their final batch of the cookies were finished baking.

For several blissful minutes they worked happily together in the warm, cozy kitchen, mother and daughter content with the lights from their lit tree in the next room blinking in multicolored accompaniment from the hall and providing a festive glow, Emma’s iTunes playing an eclectic holiday mix as cheerful background, and the sweet scent of cookies baking indeed beginning to pervade the room and whole first floor. Even as she began to move cookies from the baking sheet to the wax paper on the counter to cool, Emma kept an eye on Hope so she wouldn’t wiggle from her seat in her enthusiasm and end up falling. Once again she bit back a chuckle at the way her daughter hummed “Here Comes Santy Claus” and mumbled along her childish phrasing of the words softly in her cherubic little girl voice as she worked.

All was calm in their little space until Hope let out a dismayed gasp and ‘uh oh’ before the sound of cookie pieces hitting the floor alerted her mother’s ears. “What is it, Baby?” Emma turned fully, ready to comfort and soothe at the sad look on her four-year-old’s toddler face, tears already brimming in little eyes that were an exact blue mirror of her father’s.

“I broke him, Mama,” Hope cried, holding up the gingerbread man she had been painstakingly outlining in white icing and pressing Red Hots to as accents. Clearly, she had pressed one with a bit too much force and snapped the cookie arm off short.

Moving over to gently gather the little girl into a comforting hug, Emma shushed the gathering tears, knowing that between the impatience and bold reactions Hope had inherited from her, the passion of her father, and the full measure she had received of both their stubbornness, if Hope’s tears got started it would be a whole different scene Killian walked into than the homey welcome she had planned. “It’s alright,” she soothed, holding the gingerbread man Hope had decorated up for the child’s inspection. “You did a good job, kiddo. He’ll still taste the same - and he’s looking pretty sharp, if you ask me. One arm being a little shorter won’t change how good the cookie is at all. It just makes him...unique.” She added the last bit as an afterthought, but something about her words seemed to connect with Hope as her youngest appeared deep in thought for several moments. When she did pipe up again, her words hit Emma square in the chest, making her blink back quick tears of stunned surprise.

“He’s like Daddy!” Hope exclaimed, taking back her cookie and seeming to hold onto it with a newly reverent care and pride. She looked to her mom for affirmation, and though Emma found her words clogged tightly in her throat, she nodded vigorously to Hope’s assertion, wanting the child to know how very fitting an idea it was.

“You’re right, Sweetheart,” she finally managed to rasp through her swelling emotions. “Daddy’s just all that much more special, isn’t he? He may be missing a hand, but he can do anything he needs and then some.”

Nodding vigorously, Hope went back to work, finishing off the gingerbread man with a big, white icing and red sugar heart on its chest “to make it like Papa’s too” she’d explained, and then continued on to make cookie versions of Mama and Henry and Hopey as well, clearly once again pleased with her efforts.

By the time Killian blustered in the front door from his job as harbormaster, the snow flecking his dark hair and woolen collar and the chilly wind at his back, calling out to ask where his two ladies were this fine Christmas Eve, Emma and Hope were giggling and singing along to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and licking icing and sprinkles from their sticky fingers over the sink, the Christmas cookie operation nearly complete.

Her husband’s tall, lean form appeared in the doorway, and for a moment Emma’s breath caught as she sat Hope down and the youngster squealed in delight, running across the room to her papa and launching herself into Killian’s arms. Even after nearly seven years of marriage, multiple battles, curses, separations and reunions, he still looked every bit the dashing rapscallion who had won her heart piece by grudging, gradual piece, and she loved him for it all over again. None of this life they shared would be possible if he hadn’t been willing to stick around and fight for their love, even when she had yet been too guarded and uncertain to believe.

Their eyes met over Hope’s head as Killian hugged his daughter close to his chest, and the knowing light in his gaze, the glow of warmth he sent toward her with an easy smile assured Emma that in this moment, once again, they understood each other.

Pulling back to grin broadly at his little girl, Killian asked jovially, “And just what have my two lovely elves been up to all day? It smells like Mrs. Claus’ kitchen itself in here!”

“We made Christmas cookies!” Hope proclaimed proudly, urging her father forward to the table until she could lean over to reach the particular cookie made in his likeness, and grab it up to offer him. “See Papa? This one is like you. He has an extra big heart, even with his missing hand.”

Emma could see the pronouncement caught her pirate every bit as strongly as it had her, though - to his credit - he barely seemed to miss a beat, grinning as he blinked misty eyes and planted a kiss atop his daughter’s riotously curling hair. “I do see, my little lass. And that is quite the compliment. I love it.”

Giggling, but obviously quite satisfied with his effusive praise, Hope held the cookie out, urging her Papa to have the first bite. As Killian oohed and aahed, smacking his lips and singing his little girl’s praises, asking if she was sure she didn’t have Mama use magic they were so good, Emma could only look on with a heart utterly full at how blessed she was to have a home and a family and a house full of love, more than she once could have ever dreamed.

~~~~*~~~*~~~~

Later that night, when Hope was at last asleep in her room upstairs, after finally being convinced she couldn’t wait up for Santa or he would never come, Emma sat curled up into Killian’s side on the couch in their living room, her sock feet tucked under her, his arm wrapped warmly around her and the pleasing rumble of his laughter vibrating through her from his chest. “Did you tell her that about the cookie?” Killian mused idly, when the nighttime stillness had fallen between them once again. His fingers caressed up and down her arm making Emma shiver with awareness despite the cocoon of blankets and his body heat she had snuggled herself into.

Shaking her head to his question, Emma could only smile at her husband in fond amusement, both at how he still couldn’t seem to see the amazing man he was to everyone who loved him and that he would believe anyone could influence their own little pirate to believe anything other than what she decided to. “The cookie broke while she was icing it, and I was trying to keep her from getting too upset. I only assured her it would taste just as good, and that it would be unique. She came up with the rest on her own.”

Killian’s clear, beguiling eyes were suspiciously bright as he shook his head in disbelief. To think that his daughter found him not only whole, but extraordinary, that a child could look up to him of all people, after all he had suffered and all he had done, was still almost more than the reformed Captain Hook could fathom.  “You’re both much more than I deserve,” he whispered against her brow, lips lingering on her skin.

Emma clutched her husband tightly, humming into his kiss. “That goes right back at you, for me,” she replied fervently, praying he believed how deeply she meant every word.

Dipping his head to capture her lips fully with his own, cradling her chin in his hand, Killian swept her up, and Emma gave herself over to his ardent embrace, savoring for just one more moment the star lit on the top of their tree and the echo of the glimmering jewels of the many more in the night sky beyond before closing her eyes in bliss. The gift they had been given in this peaceful night together was a special kind of magic all its own - Christmas magic - and she wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @whimsicallyenchantedrose @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @laschatzi @effulgentcolors @spartanguard @resident-of-storybrooke @branlovestowrite @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @aloha-4-ever

[londontheatre]

The Donmar Warehouse today announces full casting for The Public Administration and Constitution Affairs Committee Take Oral Evidence on Whitehall’s Relationship with Kids Company a new musical with music by Tom Deering, and book and lyrics by Hadley Fraser and Josie Rourke.   Committee… (A New Musical) is edited from the parliamentary transcript of an oral evidence session held on 15 October 2015 and the words spoken by those participating in the Inquiry. Sandra Marvin (City of Angels) will play Camila Batmanghelidjh, founder of Kids Company, and Omar Ebrahim will play Alan Yentob, former chairman of the charity.

Further casting includes Alexander Hanson as Bernard Jenkin MP, Rosemary Ashe as Kate Hoey MP, Robert Hands as David Jones MP, Liz Robertson as Cheryl Gillan MP and Anthony O’Donnell as Paul Flynn MP. They will be joined byDavid Albury and Joanna Kirkland.

“The objective of this session is not to conduct a show trial. We want to learn some lessons.”    

What happens when something goes wrong? Who holds us accountable?  On 15 October 2015, as part of an inquiry into ‘The collapse of Kids Company’, Camila Batmanghelidjh and Alan Yentob gave evidence to The Public Administration and Constitutional Affairs Committee.  Hadley Fraser, Josie Rourke and composer Tom Deering have transformed that evidence session into a new musical.

This production has not been authorised by any participant or Parliament. We present it to you – the public – to consider how civic life in the UK is really governed.

It is based on the Parliamentary transcript of the oral evidence session on 15 October 2015 and the words spoken by those participating in the Inquiry.

Making theatre accessible to as many people as possible remains at the heart of the Donmar’s mission. Committee... (A New Musical) has KLAXON tickets available throughout the run: a new allocation of tickets, starting from £10, put on sale every Monday for performances in the following three weeks. Tickets will be available across the auditorium at every price band.

The Donmar’s YOUNG+FREE scheme, which provides free tickets to those aged 25 and under, will also continue throughout the Power Season, with releases for tickets at the end of every month. YOUNG+FREE is made possible thanks to donations from Donmar audiences via PAY IT FORWARD. The Donmar has now received almost 2,750 donations alongside their partnership with Delta Airlines, which has enabled the venue to allocate almost 5,600 free tickets to those aged 25 and under.

Audiences can sign up to receive information about tickets on the Donmar’s website http://ift.tt/QGnINs

David Albury (Junior Clerk) makes his Donmar Warehouse debut in Committee… David’s theatre credits include The Life(Southwark Playhouse); Exposure: The Musical (St. James Theatre); Only The Brave (Wales Millenium Centre); The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe (Birmingham Rep); You Won’t Succeed on Broadway if You Don’t Have Any Jews (St. James Theatre & Tel Aviv); Love Story (Union Theatre); Porgy and Bess (Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre); Bare (Greenwich Theatre); The Lion King (National Tour).

Rosemary Ashe (Kate Hoey MP) makes her Donmar Warehouse debut in Committee... (A New Musical). Rosemary’s theatre credits include Call Me Merman (Jermyn Street Theatre), The Phantom of the Opera (Her Majesty’s Theatre), The Boyfriend (Albery Theatre), Les Miserables (Barbican Arts Centre), Oliver! (London Palladium), Bitter Sweet (Sadler’s Wells), The Witches of Eastwick (Theatre Royal, Drury Lane) for which she was nominated for an Olivier Award for Best Supporting Performance in a Musical, Mary Poppins (Prince Edward Theatre), When We Are Married (Garrick Theatre), The Great American Trailer Park Musical (Waterloo East Theatre), Honeymoon in Vegas (London Palladium), Noises Off (New Wolsey Theatre), Stepping Out (UK Tour), The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Ages 13 & ¾ (Leicester Curve), Crush (Belgrade Theatre) and Sister Act (UK Tour). Rosemary’s television and radio appearances include An Audience With Ronnie Corbett, The House of Eliott, Monster TV, Friday Night is Music Night and Songs From the Shows. Rosemary has also appeared with English National Opera, Opera North, Scottish Opera, Sadler’s Wells Opera, Opera Northern Ireland and Carl Rosa in many different roles, including Musetta in La Boheme, Helene in La Belle Helene, Frasquita in Carmen and Despina in Cosi Fan Tutte. Rosemary can also be heard on many cast albums including The Phantom of the Opera, Kismet, The Boyfriend, The Witches of Eastwick, Oliver!, The 10th Anniversary Concert of Les Miserables and Mary Poppins.

Omar Ebrahim (Alan Yentob) makes his Donmar Warehouse debut in Committee... (A New Musical). Omar has sung in performances of contemporary operas and other works by Nigel Osborne, Michael Tippett, Harrison Birtwistle, Luciano Berio, Philip Glass, Peter Lieberson, Frank Zappa, György Ligeti, Peter Eötvös, and Michael Nyman. Omar’s television credits include the title role in BBC miniseries The Vampyr: A Soap Opera, an updated version of Heinrich Marschner’s opera Der Vampyr. Further credits include the role of “The Fool” in Liza Lim’s opera The Navigator (Brisbane Festival). He has also participated in performances of operas by Giacomo Puccini, Giuseppe Verdi, Kurt Weill, Georges Bizet, and Gilbert and Sullivan.

Alexander Hanson (Bernard Jenkin MP) has previously appeared at the Donmar Warehouse in Enter The Guardsman and Brel. Alexander’s extensive theatre credits include the title role in Stephen Ward (Aldwych), 42nd Street (Theatre du Chatelet),The Truth (Wyndham’s Theatre and Menier Chocolate Factory), The Gathered Leaves (Park Theatre), Accolade (St James Theatre), Jesus Christ Superstar (O2 London and Arena Tour), Uncle Vanya (Chichester Festival Theatre), An Ideal Husband (Vaudeville Theatre), A Little Night Music (Broadway, Garrick Theatre and Menier Chocolate Factory) for which he was nominated for an Olivier Award and a WhatsOnStage Award for Best Actor in a Musical. Further theatre credits include Marguerite (Haymarket Theatre) and The Sound of Music (London Palladium) as well as numerous credits at the National Theatre. Alexander also originated the role of Khashoggi in We Will Rock You (Dominion Theatre). Film credits include Papadopoulos & Sons, Kidulthood and Mauvaise Passe.

Robert Hands (David Jones MP) makes his Donmar Warehouse debut in Committee... (A New Musical). His extensive theatre credits include Mrs Henderson Presents (Noel Coward Theatre), Mouthful (Trafalgar Studios), Sun Spots (Hampstead Theatre Downstairs), Scenes From An Execution (National Theatre), A Winter’s Tale, Henry IV and Richard III for Propeller, Oh What A Lovely War (Northern Stage),Spamalot (Palace Theatre), The Schumann Plan (Hampstead Theatre), Chicago (Adelphi Theatre), Mamma Mia (Prince of Wales Theatre),Troilus and Cressida (Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre), Tess of the D’Urbervilles (Royal Exchange Manchester), The Importance of Being Earnest (Old Vic) and Invisible Friends (National Theatre). Robert’s television credits include Dark Heart, Partners in Crime, Love & Marriage, Doctor Who, Sharpe’s Battle and The House of Elliott, and film credits include Charlotte Gray, Anna and the King and the Academy Award-winning film, Shine.

Joanna Kirkland (Chief Clerk) has previously appeared at the Donmar Warehouse in Parade. Joanna’s other theatre credits include The Adding Machine (Finborough Theatre), Shutters (Park Theatre), Season’s Greetings (Union Theatre) and A Chorus of Disapproval (Harold Pinter Theatre). Television credits include Suspicion, Doctors, St Milligan’s Wharf, Holby City, Casualty, The Bill, Children of The New Forest, Martin Chuzzlewit, The Benny Hill Show.

Sandra Marvin (Camila Batmanghelidjh) has previously appeared at the Donmar Warehouse in the Olivier Award-winning production of City Of Angels. Sandra’s other theatre credits include Stepping Out (Vaudeville Theatre/Theatre Royal Bath), Showboat (New London Theatre/Sheffield Crucible), Kate Bush: Before the Dawn (Eventim Apollo), Chicago (Curve Theatre Leicester), Hairspray (Shaftesbury Theatre and UK & Ireland Tour), Ragtime, A Fairytale of New York and A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre), Cool Hand Luke (Aldwych Theatre) and A Rake’s Progress (Royal Opera House). She has also appeared on television in Citizen Khan.

Anthony O’Donnell (Paul Flynn MP) has previously appeared at the Donmar Warehouse in Glengarry Glen Ross, Twelfth Night and Uncle Vanya at the Donmar Warehouse and New York. Anthony’s other theatre credits include 1984, The Ruling Class, The Captain of Kopenick, The Shaughraun, Bartholomew Fair, Ghetto, The Miser, The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui, Under the Milk Wood, The Way of the World, The London Cuckolds and President of an Empty Room (National), A Midsummer Night’s Dream, The Witch of Edmonton, The Winter’s Tale, Our Friends in the North, Measure for Measure, A New Way to Pay Old Debts, As You Like It, All’s Well That Ends Well, The Beggar’s Opera, Henry VIII and Kiss Me Kate (RSC), Our Private Life (Royal Court), King Lear, Galileo, Dance of Death, Ivanov and The Homecoming (Almeida), The Tempest (The Bridge Project, New York, on a world tour and at the Old Vic) and The Weir (West End). Television and film credits include Stella (Series 1 to 4 and Christmas Special 2013), The Suspicions of Mr Wicher, Being Human, Gavin and Stacey, The Sarah Jane Adventures, Sweeney Todd, Much Ado About Nothing, Charles II, Moll Flanders, Doc Martin, Skyfall, Caught in the Act, The Death Defying Acts, The Baker, Match Point, Vera Drake, Love’s Labours Lost, Secrets and Lies, Robin Hood, Santa Claus.

Liz Robertson (Cheryl Gillan MP) has previously appeared at the Donmar Warehouse in Kern Goes To Hollywood. Liz’s additional theatre credits include Follies (Toulon Opera), Finding Neverland (Curve Theatre), Phantom of the Opera (25thAnniversary Celebration – Royal Albert Hall and Her Majesty’s Theatre), Love Never Dies (Adelphi Theatre), Hairspray (Shaftesbury Theatre), Touch of Danger (UK Tour), Gypsy (Cardiff International Festival of Musical Theatre), Company (Derby Playhouse), Peter Pan (Yvonne Arnaud Theatre), Stepping Out (Albery Theatre), The King and I (US Tour). Liz has also appeared on television in The Green Green Grass.

Tom Deering (Composer) makes his Donmar Warehouse debut as Composer for Committee... (A New Musical). His recent theatre work as Music Supervisor includes The Grinning Man (Bristol Old Vic), Jesus Christ Superstar (Regents Park), and the Oliver Award winning In the Heights (King’s Cross Theatre). He was named as an Associate of the Royal Academy of Music in the 2016 honours list. 

Hadley Fraser (Book and lyrics) returns to the Donmar having appeared in James Graham’s play for stage and television The Vote, and Josie Rourke’s productions of Saint Joan, City of Angels and Coriolanus. He also appeared in The Machine, directed by Rourke, for the Donmar co-production with the Manchester International Festival and Park Avenue Armory, New York. His recent theatre credits include A Long Days Journey into Night (Bristol Old Vic), as well as The Winter’s Tale and Harlequinade (The Kenneth Branagh Company at the Garrick Theatre). He has played Marius and, later, Javert in the West End production of Les Misérables and appeared in Tom Hooper’s acclaimed film adaptation. In 2012, Fraser played Raoul in the 25thAnniversary Concert of The Phantom of the Opera, which was broadcast around the world.  Other theatre credits include The Pajama Game (Chichester Festival Theatre), The Fantasticks (Duchess Theatre) and Assassins (Sheffield Crucible).  For TV he has recently starred in Decline and Fall for the BBC and Him for ITV. Film credits include The Legend of Tarzan. Together with Ramin Karimloo, he writes, records and performs music as SHEYTOONS and recently released his first solo recordingJust Let Go. Fraser is a patron of the Performance Preparation Academy in Guildford and is an Fellow of the Royal Academy of Music. 

Josie Rourke (Book and lyrics) is the Artistic Director of the Donmar Warehouse, her most recent production was Saint Joan starring Gemma Arterton. For the Donmar Josie’s productions include the world premiere of Nick Payne’s Olivier nominated new play Elegy;  Les Liaisons Dangereuses, which was broadcast live in cinemas around the world in partnership with National Theatre Live, nominated for the Olivier Award for Best Revival and ran at the Booth Theatre, New York; The Vote, which was broadcast live nationwide on television on the night of the 2015 UK election to an audience of half a million and nominated for a BAFTA; City of Angels, which received the Olivier Award for Best Musical Revival; Privacy, a new play created by James Graham and Josie Rourke;  Coriolanus, which was broadcast live in cinemas in partnership with National Theatre Live and for which Tom Hiddleston won the Evening Standard Award for Best Actor; The Weir, which transferred to Wyndham’s Theatre; The Machine at Manchester International Festival and at Park Avenue Armory, New York; Berenice; The Physicists; The Recruiting Officer; Frame 312; World Music; and The Cryptogram. A new production of Privacy, written by James Graham and created by James Graham and Josie Rourke, featuring Daniel Radcliffe, played at The Public Theater New York last summer. Her additional theatre credits include Much Ado About Nothing at Wyndham’s Theatre, nominated for the Olivier Award for Best Revival; Men Should Weep at the National Theatre; Twelfth Night at Chicago Shakespeare;Crazyblackmuthafuckin’self, Loyal Women at the Royal Court; King John at the Royal Shakespeare Company; and The Long and the Short and the Tall and Kick for Touch at Sheffield Theatres. Rourke was previously Artistic Director of the Bush Theatre, which was named Theatre of the Year under her leadership. At the Bush Theatre, her credits include the premiere of If There Is I Haven’t Found it Yet by Nick Payne.  

Adam Penford (Director) makes his Donmar Warehouse debut as director for Committee... (A New Musical). He has recently been appointed Artistic Director of the Nottingham Playhouse. He was Revival Director on One Man Two Guvnors (West End/ NY and Tour) and Associate Director of the NT 50th Anniversary Gala (NT and BBC). His theatre credits include The Boys in the Band (Park Theatre and UK Tour); A Small Family Business, Is There Wi-Fi in Heaven and Island (National Theatre), Platinum (Hampstead) and Unfaithful (Found111). Other theatre credits include Watership Down (Watermill Theatre), Deathtrap (Salisbury Playhouse), Ghost The Musical (ETF), Stepping Out (Salisbury Playhouse), The Machine Gunners and Run! (Polka Theatre), The Hostage (Southwark Playhouse), Young Woody and Tea and Sympathy (Finborough Theatre).

DONMAR 2017 POWER SEASON

Committee... (A New Musical) is the final production in the Donmar Warehouse’s Spring Power Season, which launched with Steve Waters’ acclaimed new play Limehouse.

 Award-winning Playwright Bruce Norris’ new adaptation of Bertolt Brecht’s The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui has just opened at the Donmar, starring Lenny Henry in the title role directed by Simon Evans.

http://ift.tt/2pYtd12 LondonTheatre1.com

[themisadventuresofmartyandf-blog]

Misadventure: One

MISADVENTURE ONE

It had only been three days that the Johnston’s had lived next door and she had already infiltrated his kingdom. Martin James, the boy next door, already hated his neighbor with the flaming red hair. Fern Valerian Johnston It was the named he crooned in his head over and over again. She was the reason he could not play double dragon. She was the reason Jack and Rowan couldn’t come over this summer. And she was the reason he was called “Farty James,” So here Marty was, with Fern and her wild red hair that sat like a mop on the top of her head, her blue striped tee shirt, and her red corduroy overalls, playing catch, like friends. Marty couldn’t get it into his third grade head that Fern Johnston was an enigma of a girl. Not only did she play dolls, but she was also great at wrestling with Marty in the mud. In fact, often times, she won. (This only contributed to the young boy’s hatred for his neighbor.) “Uhhh earth to Farty?” she called as the ball had whizzed right past his head during his philosophical contemplations. “Only my friends call me Farty, plant girl,” he replied cooly, to which Fern rolled her big, blue eyes. “Well it’s a good thing we’re friends Farty. Your arch nemesis wouldn’t tell you that you missed catching a ball by like a BILLION yards,” “I would never mi-” Fern cut him off by marching straight past him and retrieving the ball, which as it turns out, was only missed by 15 feet. So they continued playing catch and sizing each other up until Fern’s mom yelled for her to come back home. At the beckoning, Fern ran to the tire swing that was on the border between their two kingdoms, one where Fern’s fiery red hair ruled all the plants and bugs and creepy crawlers in her yard, to Marty’s kingdom- the one where he had trouble allowing a girl- other than his sweet mother and her even sweeter double chocolate chip cookies, and hid the ball and their two gloves. Martin often thought the tire swing and the willow tree were the only two things that he would ever have in common with Fern Johnston. Martin’s mother- who he was devastated to find out was not actually named Mom, but Kinsey- insisted he be nice to Fern. Marty tried to explain to Kinsey that not only was it totally lame to be seen playing catch with a girl instead of Rowan or Jack, but to no avail. His mother insisted otherwise. In fact, she insisted they get married when they were older. “Wait- like in the Princess Bride?” “Yes, Martin, like in the Princess Bride,” she sighed. “Mom, but that’s dangerous,” “Not exactly like the movie Martin,” Kinsey sighed, “but you will love her. I can already see it, son,” “As if,” he huffed “Marriage is for pushovers and old people,” he pause and thought, as Marty was very thoughtful for his age, “At least that’s what Dad says,” “Well, you’re Dad isn’t here Martin,” Kinsey whined, “and he’s not coming back,” “Yeah, at least not until he’s 35 that’s what he promised Mom,” “Martin, I love you honey, but he’s not coming home,” “He’s only 27 Mom. He’s got eight more years,” Marty took a deep breath, “you know, for always talking about being patient, you aren’t being very patient with James,” Kinsey couldn’t help but smile at this, and she went to kiss her son’s cheek, causing him to gag profusely. “Goodnight, Marty,” she said as she gently guided him up the stairs and into his bed. Little did Martin know, Fern was experiencing the same lecture he was, but to the point she was pulling out long strands of curly red hair. “Fern, if you’re nice to Martin, I’m sure it’ll be easier to make friends at school,” Fern could not believe what her mother was telling her. She was basically telling Fern that she had to be nice to that pushover, that total utter DWEEB. Fern had an insane amount of respect for her parents, but this was one thing she couldn’t handle. She figured if her mother thought that she had won the argument, she could still push Marty around and stay respectful to her mother. But even for a seven year old- she was so stressed her red curls were falling out. In fact, she wasn’t so sure that her mom hadn’t given her cancer. After about fifteen whole days (as Marty guesses how long it had been, even though it really had only been three), and was busy telling his red-haired foe about his recent discovery pertaining to his mother’s name

“Yeah, her name is Kinsey James, not Mom, it’s been a pretty hard transition, but I think I’ll make it through the fifth grade if I can get it down,”

Fern scrunched her nose, and her freckles did a dance that Marty would later found out he loved watching. “What kind of name is that?” “I know, right? But, it makes it easier when she loses me in the grocery store. I just scream her name at the top of my lungs,” “Hey Farty,” Fern got uncharacteristically quiet and her face blanched. “Yes, plant girl,” Martin could not help but roll his eyes “What if my Mom’s name isn’t Mom,” “Well, I wouldn’t be surprised. Moms lie about a lot of things, the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, Their name, what kind of cheese they put on your burger, even more than that, really,” “Ew, Farty, only frickin dweebs believe in Santa Claus,” Fern shook her head violently. After their lamentations they sat observing their parents enjoying brunch, which, they would later find out was the one thing they hated more than the other, Fern became panicked once more when she caught the words ‘marriage,’ and ‘love.’ While Fern didn’t exactly know what love was, she thought it sounded disgusting, and certainly didn’t want it to have anything to do with it, or with Marty, and especially not with the both of them. While Fern was developing a battle plan, Martin was just trying to make a mud pie for Kinsey. “Aren’t you worried Farty?” Marty just rolled his eyes in response. “You know who love is FOR FARTY? IT’S FOR ADULTS! EVERYTHING ADULTS DO IS GROSS MARTIN JAMES G. R. O. S. S. GROSS! DO YOU HEAR WHAT I AM TELLING YOU MARTIN JAMES? THEY WANT US TO BE IN LOVE!” During Fern’s small panic attack, Martin noticed something very different, crucially different, in fact. Detrimentally different. Fern’s hair was not in a mop atop her freckled face. Young Marty took this as a sign that not only was she trying to overthrow his reign over their shared kingdom (although he thought it was mostly his) but trying to become superior to him by wearing her fire - red hair down with a baseball cap locking the hair attached to her pale face. Marty was now imagining the long red vines flying out and strangling him if she were to remove the hat.

Marty was enraged.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” he screamed as he realized she was trying to throw the balance of their delicate friendship “Woah, regain your mellow Farty- taking parental plans down takes teamwork,” Marty couldn’t listen anymore. With a loud battle cry, he lurched forward knocking Fern into a pit of mud (that just so happened to be Mrs. Johnston’s prized petunias that separated the kingdoms of Fern and Marty) Fists were flying. Elbows were connecting with jaws. Martys hands were yanking Ferns hair, and Fern’s toes were on their way to being straight up Martin’s nose. The battle was fast paced, Fern was trying to get her hair out of Marty’s grasp, and Marty was trying his absolute hardest to keep it within his reign “MARTIN JAMES YOU FRICKIN DWEEB LET GO OF MY HAIR,” “NEVER, PLANT GIRL!” “FARTY YOU’D BETTER WATCH OUT- YOU’RE ABOUT TO CATCH MY HANDS AND MY FEET,” “BRING IT ON NOODLE ARMS,” “MARTIN JAMES LET GO OF FERN’S HAIR RIGHT THIS MINUTE!” And so, just as Fern promised- Marty caught her hands and her feet- but only so she could escape the oncoming calvary of… Their parents. But, young Marty soon caught onto the red-head’s plan’s and climbed the THOUSAND feet to the tree house before Fern could reach it. But Fern- and their parents were right on his heels. He pulled as best he could to keep the door closed- and Fern didn’t even try pulling the handle on the door- instead- she opted for screaming at Marty and trying to break the door down with her shoulder. Eventually- Marty stopped pulling on the door and let go- causing Fern to stumble to the edge of the platform surrounding his tree palace- and fall to her death. While Fern was screaming- Marty shrugged and opted to retreat back into the tree house. He had won the battle between he and Fern- but no amount of preparation could help him against- he had to take a moment and shudder- Kinsey James.

[secretlytherealsonicthehedgehog]

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@winkwonkblog

[hyperfang6900]

hah..hilarious..how STUPID you are..

@hyperfang6900 JUST YOU WAIT, MRS. CLAUSE WILL BE MINE.