#Danielle Coots

[daniellecoots1972]

Out of town series: Experiencing Caddy’s in Treasure Island, Florida

Wow, is all I can say about this little treasure of a restaurant/bar that we found while walking on the beach in Treasure Island, Florida. Yes, I know it’s not in Ohio, but everyone has to hit the road at times. It’s that time of year where everyone packs up the bathing suits, beach towels and everything summery and heads for what they believe to be Heaven. Where is your Heaven? Mine is…

[rickybaby]

“Daniel knew before the tests at Silverstone that he would have the cockpit at AT if he could perform. He more than survived the pressure situation."

- Helmut fucking Marko

[lamemaster]

All of My Names

Pairing: Maglor x Reader

Genre: Soulmate au-ish

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Love does not require conquering the heart, mind, body, or soul. It need not the bonds of marriage or profound confessions for it to foster. In your case, it bloomed even without the name of the one who became everything to you.

AN: I want to write something similar for Finrod too but different feel. I just looove the idea of lovers yearning for that true true love.

“She hasn’t touched any instrument for years, what makes you think she would be welcomed in The Aetherius Conservatory of Harmonic Mastery? Only the greatest and the most superior ever have made it there. Not just any rock icon. It is a place that hosts the talented but also hardworking.” 

“You know she has made a name for herself. A star that prestigious organizations such as yours denied for so long but look now. She stands higher than any of your students. Even now you refuse to accept her. Then this is not about prestige, tradition, or her shortcoming but your own ego that prevents her entrance.” Danielle fumed as she angrily pulled off her formal blazer. There was little reason to respect these stuck-ups.

“y/n spent years writing and singing not for this recognition but for her own sake. I should have known better that this academy would rather raise twats that all walk the same path,” Danielle hastily picked up her belongings ignoring the atrocious huffing and puffing old coots on the other end of the table. 

“One day, y/n will be greater than all of you and that day you will be the ones begging.”

“Ms. Randall, we promise we will beg meticulously once your dearest y/n learns the difference between a singer and a musician.” the director added with a smug smile on his wrinkled face. It is the last thing Danielle sees before she slams the door on the director's face.

“How could they do this? You have every right to study there. You have fame, money, and all the connections.”

You gently hold your fuming friend and manager’s hand in yours, “It’s alright Danielle. We are doing great even without the academy’s recognition,” your attempts to calm down your friend fail miserably.

 You have been part of the music industry for a decade now. What started as a roadside singing to raise money for your household somehow blew up into a worldwide career. Thousands of fans, multiple hits, and innumerable wealth but nothing could prompt you to touch an instrument. 

It was too painful. The very act of even thinking of strumming the strings of a guitar left you grappling with an open chasm of pain in your chest. It was longing too strong that even an inkling of its fulfillment might lead you crazy. 

Your songs had always been of longing and of love that you never experience but knew of so well. It was as if a past unknown to you lingered in the blindspots of your life. A mystery that causes every instrument to make you yearn for someone deeply. Someone whose name you cannot remember.

As the scenes of your window changed rapidly and as the wheels of your car spun, you found yourself scribbling in your notebook. A confounding unease plaguing your heart laid down on the blank sheet of paper.

Immersed in the depths of love, night and day,

But your name, I can't seem to convey,

The name that you do not know or remember but someday…if the stars align you will know him. He who seems to come alive the subtle brine in the air and the crashing waves of the sea.

Oh my love, oh my love,

Lost in the embrace of love's sway,

But your name, I can't find a way,

Oh my love, oh my love.

What would his name sound like? Would it ring loud like the reverberate of echoing drums or would it sting like the unrelenting strings of a lyre? 

Oh, I'm captivated by love's sweet spell,

Yet unable to express it, can't you tell?

In this longing heart, your presence I claim,

Lost in the realms of love's eternal flame.

You always felt it. A tug that threatened to push you over the edge of the world. The world that curved at its edges seemed to be a tightrope to you. You walk precariously as the forceful pull of something out of this world seems to follow you. Making every moment of living a restless dream.

Dreamed of the day we would finally meet,

To share my heart's secrets, so sweet,

To surrender my life, completely yours,

Whether you embrace it or close the doors

Whoever, it is that your soul longs for you love him. He who makes up the meaning behind every word written by you. He who seems to plague your dreams and reality. You have never heard his voice or looked into the depth of his soul. The only piece of his soul that you get to hold on to is a fleeting image of nimble hands plucking the strings of a lyre.

I've become enchanted, lost my mind,

Now my fate's intertwined,

No matter how the story unfolds,

Your name is forever within my soul.

At the mere revelation of those hands, you spent years scourging for musical stores, musicians, harpists looking for him. Any sign of the hand with a blackened palm. A hand that plays despite the pain of a lingering would or bloodied fingers. Years that have led to nothing. A void that leaves you weary of the instruments that he seems to love.

Oh, I'm captivated by love's sweet spell,

Yet unable to express it, can't you tell?

In this longing heart, your presence I claim,

Lost in the realms of love's eternal flame,

Oh my lo-

“Is it him again?” Danielle leans in looking at your sheet of scratched-out words. “The one whose name remains a mystery. The reason behind your rejection today.” 

“How did he play a part in this?” You vehemently defend the person you do not know. “It is my inability nothing of this is his doing,” your heart beats at the thought of the mystery man getting any blame for your own shortcomings.

4 years ago~

Away from the winding roads and loud of the city you find yourself on the solemn beach unvisited by any during the cold months of winter. 

You wanted out from the cameras, fans, and fame that followed you everywhere. It was too much and you have left too little of yourself.  

It had been years since you first sang in front of a busy cafe or by the busy intersections, years since the eyes of industry turned to you, years since you grappled with the fame you never asked for and now you are tired. Maybe once you were happy but now a restless melancholy fills your heart.

The world seems to be bursting on its seems. It is then that you see it. A faint glimmer hidden in the depths of the sand. Your footsteps lead you to the barely visible lump in the sand that seems to tug you towards it. It's as if the festering restlessness in your chest is hooked to it.

Unraveling sand your hands pause a intricately carved lyre stares back at you and your heart stirs. “It’s you,” your breath comes heavy with the relief that fills you at its very sight. It was as if the world fell back into its place.

You reach down and carefully pluck the mysterious artifact from its sandy resting place. It was a lyre, weathered and worn as if it endured the passage of time and the relentless embrace of the sea. Its wooden frame bore marks of age, telling tales of a forgotten past.

Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to be carried away by the enchantment of the moment. And in that darkness, a vivid vision unfolded before you. You saw a pair of slender, bloodied fingers, their nimble movements plucking the strings of the lyre with effortless grace. The melody that emanated from the instrument was hauntingly beautiful, filled with longing and a touch of melancholy.

You could almost feel the emotions pouring forth from the ethereal music, touching your soul in ways you couldn't comprehend. The vision offered glimpses of a story, of someone who had played this very lyre with fervent passion and unwavering dedication. The fingers were worn, evidence of countless hours spent pouring heart and soul into the strings.

In that fleeting moment, you felt a connection, as if the music reached out to you across time and space. It was as if those slender fingers were reaching for yours, whispering a tale of lost melodies and unspoken yearning.

As the vision faded and reality washed over you once more, you opened your eyes, the lyre cradled gently in your hands. The weight of its history and the mystery it held felt both exhilarating and overwhelming. A mix of curiosity and trepidation coursed through your veins.

What stories did this lyre carry? Whose fingers had plucked its strings with such skill and fervor? Questions swirled in your mind, urging you to uncover the truth, to embark on a journey that would unravel the secrets hidden within the timeworn instrument.

As you walked away from the beach, the lyre cradled in your arms, you knew that this encounter was no mere coincidence. It was the beginning of a profound journey, one that would bridge the gap between time and hearts, and perhaps, ultimately, lead to a reunion with the one whose music had stirred your very soul.

Love does not require conquering the heart, mind, body, or soul. It needs not the bonds of marriage or profound confessions to foster. In your case, it bloomed even without the name of the one who became everything to you.

Just a glimpse potent enough to uproot your life. A pain so profound that leaves you sobbing in the wee hours of the night. 

You find yourself standing in front of the mirror, tears streaming down your face. The image of those bloodied fingers, strumming the lyre, lingers in your mind. The ache in your heart intensifies as you long to know the story behind those hands, to understand the pain they endured and the melodies they created.

But deep down, you know that the lyre holds more than just a mystery to be unraveled. It holds a connection—a bond that transcends time and space. It is a bond that resonates with your own longing, your own unspoken desires.

Days pass, and the lyre becomes a constant presence in your life. It sits in the corner of your room, its strings untouched, yet its presence fills the space with an unspoken yearning. You find yourself drawn to it, spending hours simply gazing at its intricate carvings and imagining the music it once produced.

But fear holds you back. Fear of unlocking a power that you may not be ready to face. Fear of delving into a world where reality and dreams intertwine. The weight of responsibility rests upon your shoulders, and the thought of playing the lyre feels like opening a floodgate of emotions you may not be able to control.

Yet, even in your hesitations, your love for the lyre grows. It becomes a symbol of something more—a symbol of a love that transcends time and space. It represents the possibility of finding the missing piece of your soul, the one whose music has haunted your dreams.

Late at night, as you sit by the window, the moonlight casting a gentle glow upon the lyre, you find yourself talking to it, pouring out your heart in whispered words. You speak of your longing, your hopes, and your fears. The lyre becomes your confidant, a silent witness to the depths of your soul.

"You hold the key to my heart," you whisper, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and determination. "But I'm not yet ready to unlock the secrets you hold. I fear the intensity of what lies within, and I fear losing myself in the melodies that may awaken."

The lyre remains silent, yet you can almost feel its understanding. It is as if it knows the weight of your emotions, the depth of your love, and the significance of your connection.

Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months. The lyre remains a cherished companion, a silent reminder of the mysteries that lie dormant. You continue to resist the urge to play it, knowing that the time will come when you are ready to embrace the melodies that lie within.

For now, you find solace in the presence of the lyre, in the knowledge that the one whose fingers once graced its strings is out there, waiting to be found.

As the years pass and time etches its marks upon your face, you find yourself sitting in a quiet room, the lyre resting in your hands.

With a gentle touch, you run your fingers along the worn wood, feeling the memories embedded within its grains. The weight of a lifetime's worth of longing and unspoken words hangs heavy in the air. You bring the lyre close to your chest, cradling it like a precious relic.

"I hope to meet you in another lifetime," you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of unfulfilled dreams. "If not in this lifetime, then in the next. And if not that, then in the countless lives that follow. I will wait, for as long as it takes, for our souls to find each other once again."

A bittersweet smile plays on your lips as you think of the countless possibilities that lie ahead. In your heart, you know that the connection forged with the lyre and the mysterious musician it represents is not bound by the constraints of a single lifetime. It is a bond that transcends time and space, reaching beyond the boundaries of human understanding.

"I will be here, in whatever form you find me," you murmur, your voice carrying a steadfast determination. "Whether as a melody in the wind, a whisper in the night, or a soul intertwined with yours. I will wait, for our destinies to align once more."

With a final caress, you place the lyre back in its rightful place, a silent reminder of the love that knows no bounds. As you rise from your seat, a sense of peace washes over you. The longing that once consumed your every thought has transformed into a patient hope, a quiet assurance that your paths will cross again.

And so, you carry the memory of the lyre and the unseen musician with you, weaving their presence into the tapestry of your existence. You continue to live your life, cherishing each moment, knowing that somewhere, in a realm beyond your reach, your soulmate awaits.

And as you walk into the twilight of your life, you hold onto the belief that one day, in another time and place, you will finally meet the one who has captured your heart across lifetimes.

In the realm of whispers and secrets, rumors spread like wildfire, and the tale of the crazed singer who died alone in a room next to a sole lyre took hold in hushed conversations and dark corners.

Whispers carried on the wind, painting a picture of a tormented soul who had dedicated their life to the pursuit of an elusive love. They spoke of a singer whose voice echoed with raw emotion, captivating audiences around the world, yet haunted by an unrequited longing that consumed them from within.

The story spoke of a secluded room, its walls adorned with memories frozen in time. Within that room, the singer was said to have spent their final days, surrounded by relics of a past they couldn't let go of. And at the center of it all, resting against a faded tapestry, lay the sole lyre, its weathered strings bearing witness to the melodies that had once danced upon them.

Some claimed the singer had become lost in their own labyrinth of love, descending into madness as they relentlessly searched for the one who had ignited their soul. They spoke of sleepless nights spent in the company of the lyre, fingers hovering over the strings, yet never daring to play a single note. It was as if the musician's heartache had become so profound that they feared unleashing its power upon the world.

As the rumors spread, the tale took on a mythical quality, intertwining the singer's story with that of the mysterious musician who had once breathed life into the lyre. Whispers of a soulmate lost across time reverberated through the corridors of imagination, leaving a trail of wonder and sorrow in their wake.

But amidst the rumors, one thing remained certain—the singer had found solace in their connection to the lyre. In that quiet room, their heart had beat in harmony with the instrument, pouring out their yearnings and desires, even if they were destined to remain unheard by mortal ears.

The story of the crazed singer and the sole lyre became a cautionary tale of unrequited love and the all-encompassing power of passion. It served as a reminder that even in the pursuit of something as elusive as love, one must tread carefully, lest they lose themselves entirely.

Maglor awoke in the hallowed halls of Mandos, his spirit reassembled, with fragments of his soul intact. It was as if the very force of life had stitched him back together, remade from the ashes by you, who loved just a figment of him. He could feel your presence, the one who had captured his essence in your words and breathed life into his existence once more.

But as he gazed upon the fading memories of the mortal world, a profound sense of peace washed over him. He realized that even though your paths had not yet converged, the love that bound you was timeless and enduring. It was a love that transcended physical barriers and spanned across realms.

With every step he took, Maglor whispered words of hope and longing, sending his love out into the world and trusting that it would find its way to your heart. He embraced the knowledge that love, like a gentle breeze, would one day bring you together, merging your souls into a symphony of eternal harmony.

And so, Maglor strove forward, not with a sense of desperation or yearning, but with a deep sense of peace and anticipation. He carried within him the belief that your presence would grace his life again, in this realm or the next, as the currents of fate gently guided your paths toward a joyous reunion.

In the tranquil halls of Mandos, Maglor's words resonated with a newfound hopefulness, his voice carrying the melody of a love that defied all boundaries. And as he walked the paths of destiny, he knew deep in his heart that your love story was far from over.

He whispered your name, a gentle invocation of love and longing, sending his wishes out into the universe. For Maglor knew that as long as your souls remained connected, your love would endure, transcending time and space, until the moment when your destinies would align and you would finally find each other.

"Maglor, Makalaure, Kanafinwë," Maglor whispered his names, each syllable carrying a weight of significance. With every repetition, he made a promise to himself and to the universe that one day, he would reveal all of his names to you. One day, when the threads of fate wove together and brought you back into his arms.

Maglor yearned to open his heart to you, to lay bare the depths of his being, and to intertwine his destiny with yours in a timeless bond. He vowed to preserve his identity, to keep the flame of his essence alive, so that when the moment arrived, he could offer you the entirety of his existence. He understood that true love required patience and the willingness to wait for the perfect alignment of stars and souls.

With a serene smile upon his face, Maglor surrendered to the passage of time, knowing that it would bring you closer with every tick of the cosmic clock. He held onto the hope that one day, in the tapestry of eternity, you would stand before him, and he would share his names, his stories, and his love with you.

And so, he whispered your name into the ethereal winds, his voice carrying the promise of a future filled with the union of two souls destined to be together. Maglor cherished the knowledge that the day would come when he could look into your eyes and say, "I am Maglor, Makalaure, Kanafinwë. These are my names, and they belong to you."

He held onto the belief that one day, the universe would conspire to bring you into his life, where he would reveal all of his names, along with the boundless love he carried within his heart.

[terrence-silver]

how do you think terry would react to beloved having a child who trains at miyagi-do or doesn't like cobra kai?

---

Why do I think Terry Silver would...just try and buy Miyagi-Do?

You know, buy it? Like someone buys a car? Or a watch? Or an expensive suit? His child likes Miyagi-Do? His stepchild? His ward? His whatever? Guess what? Terry Silver immediately starts making plans how to acquire this franchise and pretty much...you know, give it to his offspring like it's a mere thing. Why? The sole reason his kid likes something is enough reason for him to have an innate and almost burning desire to do this for them, and he would, if push came to shove, try to make this into a reality by any means necessary, no matter how long it took. Spreading around rumors to damage the rival dojo's reputation? Maybe someone mysteriously starts gossip how Miyagi-Do discriminates on the basis of...literally whatever to fuel some fake outrage? Sabotage the business so they lose students and by extension, money? Goodness gracious, does he have to go the route of paying someone to go as hilariously low as tipping off Sanitary Inspection on the place due to a termite infestation on dojo grounds (which he may or may not have personally planted to entire devalue the property to the degree the Larussos would be forced to sell?) Use a strategic middle man when conducting the purchase so nobody would immediately know he's the one actually buying the property? Tactics he'd utilize are as varied as human imagination and you'd be shocked what a man can achieve when he has money to blow and he's willing to step over literal corpses to get what he wants. Regardless, Terry's child gets Miyagi-Do. All of it. Every rock. Every stone. Every bit of hallowed legacy. Terry gives it to them and by extension, to himself, like a war trophy.

Now, they can train at that place to their heart's desire.

Quite literally go and knock themselves out.

The offense Terry takes at his kid not preferring Cobra Kai as a dojo option isn't as huge or as pronounced as one would think it is in this situation; not when you consider it's massively overshadowed by the triumphant, gleeful joy that he can go and turn whatever place he touches into Cobra Kai too --- especially Miyagi-Do, perhaps the very antithesis of everything Cobra Kai stands for. Oh, if that old coot that trained Daniel all those years ago could rise from the grave right about now and check out the new state of things, would he be in for a surprise or what! Heck, the very look on Daniel and Amanda Larusso's faces once they realize it's actually him who bought the place and not someone else is enough to fuel him for the rest of his life. And in Terry's own words vaguely paraphrased, he can utilize the literal legacy of these grounds for mulch, all while giving his kid the gift of a lifetime at the same time. His kid --- they don't like Cobra Kai? Well, guess what? Anything Terry Silver sets his eyes on is and can be Cobra Kai, whether they realize it or not. He could buy out a whole mall tomorrow and turn it into exactly the very same thing too. Can't ran from what you are. It keeps following you regardless of the color of your Gi.

Once Terry Silver's done buying out Miyagi Do, though...

The Larusso Car Dealership could be next.

[byneddiedingo]

Lucille Ball in Lured (Douglas Sirk, 1947)

Cast: Lucille Ball, George Sanders, Charles Coburn, Cedric Hardwicke, Boris Karloff, Joseph Calleia, Alan Mowbray, George Zucco, Robert Coote, Alan Napier, Tanis Chandler. Screenplay: Leo Rosten, based on a screenplay by Jacques Companéez, Ernst Neuback, and Simon Gantillon. Cinematography: William H. Daniels. Production design: Nicolai Remisoff. Film editing: John M. Foley. Music: Michel Michelet. 

Lured gave Lucille Ball a chance to break out of -- or at least transcend -- the wisecracking dame roles in which she had been cast. She plays Sandra Carpenter, an American dancer who came to London with a show that swiftly closed and is now forced to make ends meet by working as a taxi dancer, the profession immortalized in the Rodgers and Hart song "Ten Cents a Dance." When a chum of hers, a fellow dancer, disappears, she finds herself aiding Scotland Yard in an investigation of similar mysterious disappearances of young women: She plays bait, a role that puts her in contact with all manner of unsavory characters, including a crazed fashion designer played in a cameo role by Boris Karloff. But it also puts her in touch with Robert Fleming (George Sanders), a nightclub entrepreneur, with whom she falls in love. Eventually, Fleming himself will become a prime suspect in the case. It's a busy, semicomic crime story with few surprises for anyone who has seen this sort of thing before, made memorable by Douglas Sirk's crisp direction and Ball's smart, attractive presence -- one of the few substantial film roles she found before becoming a major star on television. William H. Daniels's cinematography helps give Ball the kind of glamour she seldom found on the big screen, somehow making her hair look orange even in black-and-white. There's not a lot of chemistry between Ball and Sanders, who is trying to transcend his own stereotype, the world-weary cad, but even in their separate ways they're always fun to watch.   

[hotnew-pt]

Resultados das eleições para o Senado dos EUA no Texas em 2024: Ted Cruz vence #ÚltimasNotícias

Hot News Fonte: Os resultados eleitorais e as convocatórias da corrida são da Associated Press. Pela equipe de resultados eleitorais do The New York Times: Michael Andre, Emma Baker, Neil Berg, Andrew Chavez, Michael Beswetherick, Matthew Bloch, Lily Boyce, Irineo Cabreros, Nico Chilla, Nate Cohn, Alastair Coote, Annie Daniel, Saurabh Datar, Leo Dominguez, Tiff Fehr, Andrew Fischer, Martín…

[quisapquisap]

Movies watched in Sitges Film Festival in 2023. I'm really late on this, but well...

Vampire humaniste cherche suicidaire consentant (Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person) - dir. Ariane Louis-Seize Mad God - dir. Phil Tippett Kaibutsu no kikori (Lumberjack the Monster) - dir. Takashi Miike Cobweb - dir. Kim Jee-woon The Wrath of Becky - dir. Matt Angel, Suzanne Coote Mad Cats - dir. Reiki Tsuno Riddle of Fire - dir. Weston Razooli Superposition - dir. Karoline Lyngbye Müanyag égbolt (White Plastic Sky) - dir. Tibor Bánóczki, Sarolta Szabó Mars Express - dir. Jérémie Périn Cuando los amos duermen - dir. Santiago Alvarado Ilarri Le Vourdalak - dir. Adrien Beau Mimì - Il principe delle tenebre - dir. Brando De Sica Átjáróház (Halfway home) - dir. Isti Madarász The Invisible Fight - dir. Rainer Sarnet Mad Fate - dir. Soi Cheang Propiedade (Property) - dir. Daniel Bandeira Good year overall. Amazing festival poster, too.

[danielvistar-blog]

Boulevard Gardens Wedding Video from Vistar Productions on Vimeo.

The wedding film for Lacey and Jason at Boulevard Gardens and Mt Coot-tha Gardens By Daniel Vistar Films danielvistar.com

[redflagshipwriter]

Jason avoided eye contact with Bruce when he swept out of Danny's hospital room. His heart had squeezed in his chest and he'd had to get out when he realized Danny was waking up.

He probably should have gone further away but he'd felt struck by a compulsion to stay nearby and make sure Danny was alright. It was fine. It wasn't like he'd had some private heartfelt conversation with the Batman. Poor bastard had seemed baffled.

‘Course he was. His arm flew off when he was home in his bedroom, he went to the local hospital, and he woke up to see a Gotham cryptid looming over him. He probably thought he was dreaming.’

He scoffed at the thought and trailed after Bruce for lack of anything else to do. It felt too creepy to hover over his soul- over Danny.

Danny wasn't alright. Danny was drugged to his eyeballs with a recently reattached arm that was going to require expensive therapy and might never work right anyway.

He was also going through some kind of complications that Jason hadn't managed to puzzle out yet. If the nurses seemed too stressed he'd have Barbie take a peek at the medical records, but for now the thing that had him grinding his teeth was that there were no parents to be seen. Danny was a minor. Where the fuck were the Doctors Fenton?

“Daniel Fenton has woken up.”

Bruce, the giant leather-clad creep, announced this in his low theatrical voice after creeping up on the desk in absolute silence. Because he was a lunatic.

The nurse jumped in her computer chair and gasped, hand to her neck as she looked up at Batman. Jason rolled his eyes. If only Batman had been raised by a kickass Butler who could have taught him to announce his presence rather than sneaking up on working professionals.

‘Dramatic old coot.’

“He's asked for his sister. Did she say where she was going?”

The nurse blinked a few times and slid her reading glasses up into her slightly wild hair. “Ah… she's gone to have some breakfast at the cafeteria. I'm sure she won't be too long, but if Daniel says it's urgent, you could go and let her know.”

Batman went very still. “...Perhaps it's best to let her finish eating.”

Jason snorted at how on-brand that mother henning was. He barely resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at Bruce when that garnered him a glance.

‘Of course that's your concern,’ he thought, not unkindly.

Jasmine and Daniel Fenton both had the slightly coltish underfed look that could mean they were neglected or could just indicate growth spurts. Jasmine was her mother's height at 5’10” and 19 years old, so she might be recently done growing. Danny was snack-sized at 5 '5'' and Jack Fenton was a whopping 6’ 4” that had made Bruce unconsciously straighten his back in a fit of dadly chest-puffing when they’d read that. Danny probably had growing to do.

‘Who am I kidding? If his parents were worth jack, diddly, or squat, they'd be here by now. He's probably underfed and I'm going to need Bruce Wayne to swoop in and buy the hospital so that Danny's PT can get comped. At least we got his arm to him in time to reattach it but this is still my fuckup and I've ruined his life before I even talked to him.’

Frankly, Jason felt like a loser because he needed his Daddy to come save the day. It was less crucial than his self loathing over being the reason his supposed soulmate had a surprise amputation, but it was definitely a factor in his unhappiness.

“Thank you. That will be all.” Bruce turned in his heels and strode away, cape flapping behind him in the stale air of the hospital in a way that was absolutely hilarious.

Jason muffled a laugh in a cough and then wondered if he looked that silly from the outside. He didn't, right? He glanced down at his outfit self-consciously. He had on thick, loose jeans over padded leg armor, but that looked pretty normal at a glance. His boots were just work boots. Sure, the skin-tight sweat-wicking shirt with the bat symbol was eye catching but mostly, he thought, because his pecs were fucking awesome.

He zipped up his brown jacket anyway. Now probably wasn't the time to show off his awesome boobs. Jasmine Fenton was probably not in a mental state to appreciate that from a weird unwanted visitor to her brother's hospital bed. He didn't know if he was going to actually talk to the poor bastard, but he didn't want Jasmine to hate his guts.

It turned out the errand was unnecessary. They passed Jasmine going the other way. She gave them a strained, wholly insincere, smile and a nod. Then she darted into Danny's room and pulled the door shut behind her.

Jason pulled up short. “We should give them space.” He said.

Bruce grunted. He was still looking at the door.

“Old man,” Jason warned under his breath.

Bruce let out a big baby ‘no one understands that my creeping is practical’ martyr sigh. He turned slightly to face Jason. His lips pursed. “...The cafeteria?”

Jason made a face of revulsion. “I guess.” He threw his hands up in complaint. “It was a miracle we pushed our way in here, I don't like our odds of talking our way back in.”

They went to the hospital cafeteria and experienced half decent pasta and hideous coffee that ought to get someone sent to jail for bean malpractice. They made their way back to Danny's room about 40 minutes later. Jason was buzzing with energy. He hid his hands in his pockets and loosened his posture. He didn't want to make the wrong impression.

They'd had to give Jasmine Fenton the basic information, which had hilariously involved her initially thinking that Batman was Danny's soulmate. She'd been relieved to hear it was Red Hood, but then again, she probably didn't know about all the gang activity. Jason felt philosophical about it. He was emotionally prepared for people to think he was a scary violent criminal. He had a healthy sense of perspective about his life.

The door opened as Bruce reached for it. A tall older man- no, he was around 40, but his hair was snow white- stepped out into the hallway and edged Batman back.

“Good evening,” he said, looking at Bruce as if he was dogshit on his expensive shoe. “I'm afraid that you're trespassing in my hospital and you have to leave immediately. Come along.” He put a hand on Bruce's arm and Bruce didn't shake him off. Bruce moved when the new man pushed, but he seemed surprised about it.

Jason watched, appalled and delighted in equal measure as this 21st century dandy appeared to tow the goddamn Batman along. Was this for real?

“Excuse me?” Bruce shook his arm out of the unknown’s grip and frowned down at him.

Well. He frowned horizontally. Even with the inch heel in the batsuit boots, this guy matched Bruce's height. What was in the water in Amity Park?

“Amity General hospital is a municipal facility, not privately owned. I have received permission to be here from the relevant authorities.”

“Ah, that's old news,” this weird man said. He clapped his hands together. He was, Jason thought, enjoying this pissing contest. “I own it now, as of seven and a half minutes ago. Vlad Masters, mayor.” He brandished a paper from his breast pocket that had honest to God wet ink on it. Jason managed to read a few words before Masters pulled off some bullshit sleight of hand to stash it away.

He continued on breezily. “We're changing things, including visitation policy. The door is over there. Unfortunately it does have the old signage on it but I'll get that fixed up soon.” He snatched Bruce's arm again and shoved him down the hallway at an alarming speed towards the ward entrance. “Goodbye, never come back.” The batsuit creaked under the truly impressive grip he must have on it.

“What changes are you making?” Jason asked, pointedly lifting his hands to demonstrate that he wasn't a threat and moving towards the door. Masters turned back just enough to give him a wary look, eyes dark with some kind of calculation that Jason mentally equated to a crocodile wondering if he'd spotted dinner.

If this guy was telling the truth, they did have to leave. It would be easier to get back in undercover if they didn't make a fuss.

“Oh, we're a hospital specializing in rare and unheard of conditions now. Ah, don't let the door hit Batman on the way out.” Masters opened the heavy ward door without letting go of the batsuit and bodily shoved Bruce out. “Have a blessed day at your costume party.” He wiped his hands off on his suit pants, all but glowing with smugness.

The levity dropped off of Jason's face as he processed that. He let Masters shut the door on them and then turned to share dark eye contact with Bruce.

“Rare and unheard of medical conditions.” Bruce graveled out. He rubbed resentfully at his arm to get the Vlad off of it.

“Like your arm falling off.” Jason gritted his jaw. Fuck.

They were going to have to save Danny from experimentation or something. He just knew it. (edit to add my personal opinion:

)

IdeaDpxDc—There are better ways to meet someone.

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main. Soul mates.

---

"Exactly... what does this ring do?" The shining ring was still attached to his finger. This wouldn't worry him if it weren't for the fact that, with each passing minute, the ring emitted more light, and that can't be good.

The cult leader refused to speak. He wouldn't even look at him, seeming particularly attentive to the material the floor was made of. Very funny that now he was scared of him when, an hour ago, he was giving a very cliché speech about how humanity was doomed because it would summon the evil of evils.

It wasn't very smart of him to perform his summoning precisely in Gotham City, home of the Dark Knight.

Red Hood was getting impatient. He placed the hand without the ring on his weapon; if words didn't work, a real threat to his life would. And this didn't really break Bruce's 'no killing' rule because the gun was only loaded with rubber bullets. However, just as he was about to advance and shoot the guy, he saw Batman grab the leader's tunic collar and lift him up.

The man, of course, screamed in fear. "Speak, what does that ring do?" No jokes. Batman's voice was deeper than usual, showing that he was upset, no, rather angry.

Or worried, but Jason could never consider that possibility. For the moment, he was only surprised, although it didn't show through his helmet.

"I-I don't know," the leader replied. Poor guy, he seemed about to cry. Batman, not content, tightened his grip even more; he wasn't willing to tolerate a lie this time.

Red Robin raised an eyebrow. "You managed to gather a bunch of magical artifacts for your summoning and you don't know what they do?"

The man looked away. "No..." The rest of the cult members also looked away. Very brave and stupid of them to all agree to lie to the bats. Jason himself wanted to mock them, but the ring kept shining. He couldn't mock when the ring kept shining and he didn't know what it meant.

From the communications, Robin could be heard. "Tt, this wouldn't be happening if Hood hadn't put on the ring." Jason suppressed a growl.

"Kid, I didn't put on the ring. This thing stuck to me the moment I touched it." It was true. In the middle of the operation to stop the ritual, Jason had pulled the ring, which at that moment was a kind of necklace by the chain that ran through it, from a member who was wearing it. The ring in his hand began to glow and suddenly teleported to his ring finger, then stopped shining. It was when everything calmed down that the ring began to release a different, but constant light.

Approximately ten minutes have passed since then, he thought as he looked at the ring, ignoring all the magical stuff; it was actually a very simple ring. Suddenly, the ring began to blink.

Oh, no. That couldn't be good.

Batman, fed up with the leader's silence and his followers, threw the man meters ahead. "Oracle, call Zatanna now, we need more information about the ring," he ordered as he approached the man who was in pain from the fall. The guy, terrified by the violent aura of the Dark Knight, tried to retreat.

Finally, Nightwing stepped between the man and the brutal beating he would receive if he didn't speak.

"It's okay, B, calm down." With his hand on his father's shoulder, Dick tried to ease the atmosphere. "I understand your concern. We are all worried about what the ring might do to Hood. But we can't let fear and anger control us. Hood is important to all of us. He is our brother, your son. We can't lose our cool now. Let's call Wonder Woman. If no one wants to talk, she can help us with the lasso of truth."

Total silence. Jason didn't know what to say; he didn't think his family would react like this over a blinking ring. That is... he doesn't know. Suddenly, the ring's light began to blink faster.

Batman, after Nightwing's words and seeing the change in the ring, understood that he couldn't waste time with someone who wouldn't talk. "You're right, thank you Nightwing." Looking at the others, he said: "We need to act quickly, we don't know the effects the ring might have on Hood. We need to take him to the cave for a thorough analysis, no discussions." The last part he said looking at Jason. "Until then, don't try to take it off or use it."

Jason scoffed, as if he would.

"Oracle, you heard, call Diana. Red Robin and I will take care of the rest of the cult. Nightwing, take Red Hood to the cave." Batman began giving orders as he reached the leader and began dragging him towards the rest of his cult. The leader, in a failed attempt, tried to resist. "Agent A, please prepare a stretcher. Understood?"

Everyone nodded.

On the other hand, the touching speech and the strange family moment of the bats seemed to soften the heart of a girl from the cult, who in a whisper said: "The ring, nothing will happen to him." Although she spoke quietly, everyone present heard her.

The leader, panicking that the information would be revealed, exclaimed: "Catrina, shut up!" However, he was struck by Batman, who was already fed up with the guy.

"What do you have to say about the ring?" he asked.

The woman hesitated to speak. "We thought of using the ring to subdue the king of the dead and make him listen to our orders..." She paused, not knowing how to continue. "There is a real legend about the ring. A long time ago, a witch wanted to know who her soulmate was, so she created the ring. This allows one to be guided to their soulmate through the red thread. I think everyone already knows what the red thread is." Nervous, she looked around. Only Nightwing nodded, and that was enough for her to continue telling. "Well, the witch's red thread connected with a prince. Unfortunately for everyone, the prince was not happy that his soulmate was a witch. So he had her killed." The girl looked at her hands; that part of the story was sad. "The witch was angry, but still wanted her soulmate to accept her, so she rewrote the ring's original purpose. It was no longer something that united you with your soulmate, but now it was something that allowed you to subdue your soulmate... uh, this." She pointed to a book that was lying in a corner. "With another spell, in fact, it can be used to subdue anyone, even a king of the dead."

With the whole story already told, Red Robin asked: "So, what is the ring doing to Red Hood?"

"It's tracking his soulmate. I... didn't get to put the other spell on it. I could only activate the ring's primary function. Your brother will be fine."

That definitely changes things. Jason swore he could hear his heart beating. A soulmate, wow. He admits he's read many romance novels and maybe once dreamed of it, but for it to actually happen, wow.

Suddenly, the ring stopped blinking. Five seconds later, everyone saw a red thread shoot out from the ring's gem. It quickly moved in one direction, went through the wall, and kept going. The process was like a fishing rod when it catches a fish.

"Does this mean it already found its soulmate?" Red Robin asked. Astonished by the red thread, he tried to touch it but his hand went through it; apparently, the thread was intangible to anyone else.

"Yes," the cultist also seemed astonished.

Jason felt a look on him, turned, it was his brother. Oh no, not that look, he knew that smile; Dick would tease him so much in the coming days. For his part, Batman sighed in relief. Well, it wasn't such an extreme danger, but it was still dangerous. "Agent A, cancel the stretcher." He never imagined this would mean a soulmate case. "Oracle, don't cancel the call to Zatanna or Wonder Woman, we need to verify the information. We'll stay here until the police arrive."

How nice it would be if everything ended like that, right? With Dick joking with Jason, Tim analyzing the thread, Barbara laughing at the turn of events, Bruce relieved and Damian surprised. However, one must remember the story.

The witch changed the ring's original purpose. Unexpectedly, the thread began to retract, as if it had caught something. It did so so quickly that Jason grabbed his hand in pain. It was then that everyone had a bad feeling. The wall the thread had previously passed through suddenly exploded, the noise and dust alerting everyone, especially when once the chaos disappeared, something horrific could be seen.

An arm. A fucking arm. Apparently freshly torn from its owner. Oh, no. What did it do to his soulmate?

...

Somewhere else in the world, somewhere in the United States, Danny gasped in pain. What the hell? What was that? Ancients! Where is his arm?

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

[nhacaitangtienvip]

Tỷ lệ kèo bóng đá hôm nay Leicester City vs Everton, 2h ngày 2/5/2023

Tỷ lệ kèo bóng đá hôm nay Leicester City vs Everton, 2h ngày 2/5/2023 tại nhà cái trực tiếp đá gà Thomo. Dự đoán tỷ số bóng đá giữa Leicester City vs Everton, 2h ngày 2/5/2023.

Everton có chuyến hành quân đến Sân vận động King Power vào thứ Hai cho trận đấu tại Premier League với chủ nhà Leicester City.

Dưới đây là toàn bộ dự đoán, số liệu thống kê và thăm dò trận đấu cho trận Leicester City v Everton (bao gồm tỷ lệ cá cược tốt nhất).

Leicester City bước vào trận đấu này sau trận hòa 1-1 tại Premier League trước Leeds United.

Trong trận đấu đó, Leicester City cầm bóng 59% và tung ra 15 cú sút trúng khung thành, trong đó có 3 lần trúng đích. Người ghi bàn cho Leicester City là Jamie Vardy (80'). Leeds United đã có 13 cú sút trúng khung thành với 3 trong số đó đi trúng đích. Luis Sinisterra (20') là người ghi bàn cho Leeds United.

Hiếm khi trong thời gian gần đây, Leicester City giữ sạch lưới. Thực tế là Leicester City đã không thể ngăn cản đối thủ ghi bàn ở 6 trong 6 trận đấu trước đó của họ, để thủng lưới 10 bàn.

Tiếp nối thất bại lần trước trước Newcastle United trong trận đấu ở Premier League, Everton và những người ủng hộ chuyến đi của họ sẽ hy vọng rằng họ có thể giành được một kết quả tốt hơn trong trận đấu này.

Trong trận đấu đó, Everton có 40% thời gian cầm bóng và tung ra 13 cú sút về phía khung thành, trong đó có 5 lần trúng đích. Cầu thủ duy nhất ghi bàn cho Everton là Dwight McNeil (80'). Đối với đối thủ của họ, Newcastle United đã có 15 cú sút trúng khung thành với 9 lần trúng đích. Callum Wilson (28', 75'), Joelinton (72') và Jacob Murphy (81') ghi bàn cho Newcastle United.

Những con số kể câu chuyện của riêng chúng, và Everton đã bị ghi bàn ở 5 trong 6 trận gần đây nhất, chứng kiến ​​đối thủ của họ ghi tổng cộng 12 bàn. Ở phía sau, Everton chắc chắn có chỗ để cải thiện. Tuy nhiên, xu hướng như vậy sẽ không nhất thiết phải tiếp tục trong trận đấu này.

Soi kèo đối đầu gần đây nhất của họ tính đến ngày 01/07/2020 cho thấy Leicester City thắng 1 & Everton thắng 3, với số trận hòa là 2.

Tổng cộng có 14 bàn thắng được ghi giữa họ trong những lần đụng độ đó, với 6 bàn trong số đó của The Foxes và 8 bàn thuộc về The Toffees. Đó là tỷ lệ bàn thắng trung bình mỗi trận là 2,33.

Trận đấu cuối cùng có sự góp mặt của các đội này là trận đấu ở vòng 15 Premier League vào ngày 11/05/2022 khi kết thúc trận đấu với Everton 0-2 Leicester City.

Ngày hôm đó, Everton kiểm soát bóng 49% và thực hiện 12 lần dứt điểm với 2 lần trúng đích.

Leicester City đã có 21 lần dứt điểm với 7 trong số đó đi trúng đích. Youri Tielemans (45') và Harvey Barnes (86') ghi bàn.

Trận đấu do David Coote làm trọng tài.

Ryan Bertrand (Phẫu thuật đầu gối), Jonny Evans (Chấn thương bắp chân) và James Justin (Đứt gân Achilles) sẽ không thi đấu thay cho huấn luyện viên của Leicester City, Dean Smith.

Theo quan điểm của chúng tôi, The Foxes có vẻ sẽ sử dụng hệ thống 4-2-3-1 trong trận đấu và chọn Daniel Iversen, Timothy Castagne, Wout Faes, Çağlar Söyüncü, Victor Kristiansen, Youri Tielemans, Boubakary Soumaré, Tetê, James Maddison, Harvey Barnes và Jamie Vardy.

Chúng tôi cho rằng The Toffees có nhiều khả năng sẽ sử dụng đội hình 4-3-3, bắt đầu trận đấu với Jordan Pickford, Benjamin Godfrey, Michael Keane, James Tarkowski, Vitali Mykolenko, Amadou Onana, Idrissa Gueye, Abdoulaye Doucoure, Alex Iwobi, D. Calvert-Lewin và Dwight McNeil.

Ở trận đấu này, Everton hoàn toàn có khả năng ghi bàn vào lưới đội hình Leicester City này, tuy nhiên số bàn thua đó có thể không bằng số bàn thua mà họ có thể phải nhận.

Stone27 đang nghiêng về chiến thắng 2-1 cho Leicester City khi kết thúc 90 phút. Hãy xem những gì xảy ra ở đây.

[eye-see-a-bird]

Red-knobbed Coot (Fulica cristata)

© Daniel Field

[monotonous-minutia]

Divas kissing divas 3/?

(1) (2) 

[verdiprati]

And now the same user who recently uploaded Hippolyte has also put the Glynders L’incoronazione di Poppea on YouTube. Alice Coote sings Nerone to Danielle de Niese’s Poppea; Tamara Mumford is Ottavia; the wonderful Dominique Visse sings one of the nurse roles; and an early-career Sonya Yoncheva makes an appearance, as well. 

[terrence-silver]

I recently discovered your page and my first reaction was: OH MY GOD, this woman is an amazing writer!! No seriously, your Yandere one shots / scenarios are amazing, I would like to read more! Since I first saw Karate Kid Part III I have this very dark but fascinating scenario in mind: The reader (friend of Daniel Larusso and Mr. Miyagi) is kidnapped by Terry as he is madly obsessed with her (but she does not return his love). When he forcibly takes her to the majestic Ennis House, he wants to get her pregnant to prevent her from escaping. Can you make the scene please? (with nsfw if you want) Maybe it's a bit too extreme scenario, but Yandere Terry Silver in the 80's is something amazing.

---

His revenge in Johnny's name never involved this.

But, much like a greedy child in a candy store on a sugar-high, Terry wanted it all.

John, lounging on some wicker sunbed in Tahiti, soaking up the seaside heat, bronze like a god and oiled up and admiring all the grass hula skirts that were attending to him had never called him up to say Fuck your children into somebody, Terry and make that part of your revenge. Go all the way, Terry. For me. --- no. In fact, trusty Johnny was very old-fashioned and deeply conventional with his vendettas. Blood to blood. Fists to fists. A healthy addition of dirty moves and strategizing when required, but never to this extent. Of course, Terry admired the rawness of such sentiments, the type John had and lived by, but sometimes a delicate touch was required to make pain truly stick and that pain was laying on his King Size bed, in his bedroom, in his mansion, on Glendower, overlooking all of LA. Was it insanely petty and morally questionable. To kidnap someone that little pipsqueak and that old coot held dear? A treasured, kind neighbour? A friend, he even dared say? To be the cad and the seducer, whisking them away whether they liked to or not and simply have them --- ravaging them --- tying them inadvertently to himself so he can later pull them out of the drawer, flaunt them like his own special prize and say Look what I did? I did that to them. They're mine forever, Danny-boy and everything you ever felt close to is to be taken from you for crossing John Kreese and Cobra Kai. Nothing and nobody in this world is safe from me. Not from the closest contact to the most distantly familiar acquaintance.

Then there was the fact that he very much liked them.

Not a feeling yet returned as much as he wanted, but it would be.

Naturally, everyone always fell to his charms, sooner or later, sometimes against all better judgement and it would be no different now. He had a scheduled timetable on when he was taking them raw, holding them hostage on estate grounds, surrounded by walls and cameras and security. Early morning seven o'clock sharp. One time before noon. One time afternoon. In the evening. And going free reign at night. Terry trained and Terry fucked. When he called up John to tell him all about it he was met with an expected: -"You did what, Terry!?"- His voice was laced with disbelief and amusement on an international overseas call and Terry throws his head back in his tub filled with foam in unadulterated joy at the sound of it once all the details and his war plan were mutually laid out bare before his Captain. He was on the verge of stroking himself beneath the bubbles in excitement. Yes, he was going to knock the fuck up one Larusso boy's neighbour living in the same apartment block. Much older than the punk, but upon closer inspection, someone the little Italian twerp admired like an eager kid admires a big sibling or an aspirational adult. -"You're crazy."- John adds. -"And you love it!"- Terry practically cackles, the phone at his cheek, his little project safely locked upstairs, exhausted for last night's trysts. He'd go one step further, he decided. He'll wine, dine and romance them until it is abundantly clear they're with him of their own accord. I'm sorry, Daniel. Terry imagines them saying, apologetically. Pitifully. It just happened. You don't choose who you love.

Ah, it was like something straight out of The Dynasty and he loved it.

-"And what happens after?"- John inquires lazily, with a trace of strictness.

-"Huh? After what?"-

-"After we're done playing? C'mon, not gonna toss your own kid and the woman out in the streets once you've proved a point, Terry? Not how I taught you to do things."- Oddly honorable John. He loved the man to bits and pieces.

When their revenge is concluded and the old man and the kid are cut down to size? The streets? Tossing someone out? Someone his? No, no. Terry remembers how his little beloved mewled under him last night, fearful yet wanton, guilt and desire intermingling, they wanted it even though their head pleaded them not to, so beautiful, vulnerable and sweet, frightened and needy in a great castle on a hill, just like in the fairytales. Why should a dragon relinquish his treasure? John had nothing to fear. Terry was self-aware about being a great many things, but someone who forsakes something belonging to him he most certainly wasn't. He laughs in response, jubilantly. -"Well, I suppose I'll be a father, Johnny! What belongs to me, belongs to me."- The cackle echoes from his jacuzzi out into the steam filled hallway. -"You'll have your dojo locations, your rightful trophy, your champion, your victory at the All Valley, your name cleared and I'll have, well ---"- In listing off all their goals one by one, Terry feels the blood rush into his cheeks, his chest and lower still, into his cock. He couldn't even say it. I'll have a spouse and I'll have a kid and It'll be oh so sweet and I would've usurped and conquered them in the name of retaliation, so instead, he just trails off cheekily with a giggle.-"You know!"- Terry snorts suggestively, finding he was hit with an uncharacteristic amount of excitement at the idea of procuring himself someone who was his and who in turn would birth someone even more his outside of avenging his Captain. Enterprise, it was called. Enterprise and expansion. -"I know, I know. You're a real piece of work, I swear."- John shoots back, knowingly. They laugh together in mirth, over the phone.

-"Betcha!"-

Terry pounces on the statement with an interjection of his own.

[every-day-changkyun]

Day 182

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

EDIT: LINKS ARE NOW CLOSED. Post is up for info purposes.

Happy 28th Birthday to me 🎂

In honour of me feeling generally old but also exactly the same as I felt yesterday, I’ve decided to post a couple of gifts for you all in the form of some of my favourite audios and videos! Perhaps you will be able to guess why they’re some of my favourites, perhaps not. Either way, here they are.

Remember that tumblr breaks outside leading links - be sure to remove the extra characters at the beginning of the URL. These links will remain open and valid until January 20th @ 11:59PM EST!

Enjoy!

AUDIOS

CATS - 1994, October - Broadway

Laurie Beechman (Grizabella), Marlene Danielle (Bombalurina), David Hibbard (Rum Tum Tugger). Rest of cast unknown.

CATS - 1995, 8th November - London, UK

Richard Armitage (Admetus/Macavity), Nunzio Lombardo ( Alonzo), Daniel Crossley ( Bill Bailey), Vanessa Leagh-Hicks ( Bombalurina), Tony Timberlake ( Bustopher/Gus/Growltiger), Sandy Rass ( Carbucketty), Deborah Shrimpton (Cassandra), David Olton (Coricopat), Michele Hooper (Demeter),  Nicola Lee-Owens (Electra), Charlotte Peck (Etcetera),  Steven Wayne (George/Rumpus), Clare Burt (Grizabella), Carrie Ellis (Jellylorum), Kimberly Partridge (Jemima),  Beth Robson (u/s) (Jennyanydots), Thomas Paton (Mistoffelees), Ian Meeson (Mungojerrie), Andrew Halliday (Munkustrap), Graeme Lauren (s/b) ( Old Deuteronomy),  Vikki Coote (Rumpleteazer), John Partridge (Rum Tum Tugger),  Tommi Sliiden (u/s) ( Skimbleshanks), Tee Soo-Chan (Tantomile), John Stacey ( Victor), Sandra Kater (Victoria)

CATS - 2000, 10th September - Broadway (Closing Night)

Linda Balgord (Grizabella), Jeffery Denman (Munkustrap), Jimmy Lockett (Old Deuteronmy), Julius Sermonia (Mr. Mistoffelees), Roger Kachel (Mungojerrie), Maria Jo Ralabatte (Rumpleteazer), Gayle Holsman (Demeter), Keith Edward Wilson (Macavity), Stephen Beinske (Rum Tum Tugger), Sharon Wheatley (Jennyanydots), John Dewar (Gus/Growlitger/Bustopher Jones), Marlene Danielle (Bombalurnia), Jean Arbieter (Jellyorum), Lenny Daniel (Alonzo), Marissa Rae Mahon (Cassandra), Billy Johnstone (Coriocopat), Jon-Erik Goldberg (Pouncival), Jessica Dillan (Sillabub), James Hadley (Skimbleshanks), Amy Hamel (Tantomile), Patrick Mullaney (Tumblebrutus), Melissa Hathaway (Victoria)

CATS - 2002, 11th May (Last Matinee) - London, UK

Chrissie Hammond (Grizabella), Adrian Edmeades (Mungojerrie), Jack Rebaldi (Munkustrap), John Partridge (Rum Tum Tugger), Sandy Rass (Skimbleshanks)

CATS - 2002 - Berlin Germany - SOUNDBOARD

Jack Rebaldi (Munkustrap), Sabine Hettlich (Bombalurina), Lada Kummer (Demeter), Cornelia Drese (Grizabella), John Partridge (Rum Tum Tugger), Benjamin Tyrrell (Mr. Mistoffelees), Leah Delos Santos (Sillabub), Markus Giess (Mungojerrie), Roimata Templeton (Rumpleteazer), Jeff Shankley (Asparagus/Bustopher Jones/Growltiger), Uli Scherbel (Skimbleshanks), Nadja Solovieva (Jenny Fleckenreich), Tersia Potgieter (Jellylorum), Anton Rattinger (Alt Deuteronimus), Zoltan Ádok (Alonzo/Rumpum), Costanze Möricke (Cassandra), Sanny Roumimper (Coricopat), Tiziana Doneda (Elektra), Gido Schimanski (Plato/Macavity), Karin Sang (Tantomile), Scott Owen (Tumblebrutus), Bridie Rack (Victoria)

CATS - 2010, 20th November - US Tour 5 (Columbus, OH)

Zach Hess (Munkustrap), Matthew Taylor (Rum Tum Tugger), Kathryn Holtkamp (Grizabella), Nathan Morgan* (U/S Bustopher Jones, Gus/Growltiger), Jeremy Brauner (Old Deuteronomy), Chaz Wolcott (Mistofelees), Erica Leigh Hansen (Jennyanydots), Will Porter (Mungojerrie, Genghis), Kristen Quartarone (Rumpleteazer), Heidi Giberson (Sillabub), Jordan Dunlap (Victoria), Laura Cable (Jellyorum/Griddlebone), Louie Napoleon (Skimbleshanks), Ashley Chasteen (Bombalurina), Madison Mitchell (Demeter), J. Morgan White (Macavity, Plato), Jason Wise (Tumblebrutus), Edward Lawrence (Alonzo), Laura Elizabeth Henning (Cassandra), Nick Hendricks (Pouncival), Matthew Glover, Melissa Grohowski, Allison Little, Larry A. Lozier Jr., Trevor Sones, Ashley Travis, Tory Trowbridge, Kevin Zak (Chorus Cats)

CATS - 2014, 26th July (Matinee) - Pittsburgh CLO, Pittsburg, PA

Elizabeth Stanley (Grizabella), Ken T. Prymus (Old Deuteronomy), Michael Brian Dunn (Bustopher Jones / Asparagus / Growltiger), Ashley Chasteen (Bombalurina), Lucas Fedele (Coricopat), Tory Trowbridge (Cassandra), Jenna Nicole Schoen (Demeter), Lily Emilia Smith (Jellylorum / Griddlebone), Amanda Pulcini (Jennyanydots), Andrew Wilson (Mr. Mistoffelees), Will Porter (Mungojerrie / Genghis), Daniel J. Self (Munkustrap), Jeff Kuhr (Plato / Macavity), Mara Newbery (Rumpleteazer), Kevin Loreque (Rum Tum Tugger), Paige Silvester (Sillabub), Jesse Carrey (Skimbleshanks), Kathryn Terza (Tantomile), Ethan Saviet (Tumblebrutus), Sarah Blodgett (Victoria), Sal Bucci, Tsilala Graham-Haynes, Stephanie Maloney, Connor McRory, Zach Miller, Liz Schmitz.

CATS - 2015, 14th February (Matinee) - London, UK (West End Revival)

Nicholas Pound (Old Deuteronomy), Callum Train (Munkustrap), Joseph Poulton (Mister Mistofelees), Adam Salter (Bill Bailey), Claire Rickard (Jellylorum/Griddlebone), Antoine Murray (Rum Tum Tugger), Benjamin Mundy (Coricopat), Katheryn Barnes (Tantomile), Kerry Ellis (Grizabella), Cassie Claire (Cassandra), Dawn Williams (Rumpleteazer), Benjamin Yates (Mungojerrie), Zizi Strallen (Demeter), Paul F Monaghan (Bustopher Jones/Gus/Growltiger), Adam Lake (Alonzo), Steve Hutchinson (Pouncival), Ross Finnie (Skimbleshanks)

CATS - 2017, 7th June - Broadway Revival

Mamie Parris (Grizabella), Callan Bergmann (u/s Alonzo), Harris Milgrim (u/s Admetus/Macavity), Andrew Wilson (Bill Bailey/Tumblebrutus), Christine Cornish Smith (Bombalurina), Christopher Gurr (Bustopher Jones/Gus/Growltiger), Jonalyn Saxer (u/s Cassandra), Jakob Karr (Carbucketty), Tanner Ray Wilson (u/s Coricopat), Kim Faure (Demeter), Maria Briggs (u/s Electra), Sarah Jane Shanks (Jellylorum), Eloise Kropp (Jennyanydots), Ricky Ubeda (Mr. Mistoffelees), Zachary Daniel Jones (Mungojerrie), Andy Huntington Jones (Munkustrap), Nathan Patrick Morgan (u/s Old Deuteronomy), Shonica Gooden (Rumpleteazer), Ahmad Simmons (u/s Rum Tum Tugger), Jeremy Davis (Skimbleshanks), Claire Camp (u/s Tantomile), Claire Rathbun (Victoria), Sharrod Williams (Pouncival), Francesca Granell (u/s Sillabub)

VIDEOS

CATS - 1990 - Wien, Vienna (Last show of the season)  - VOB Files

Darryl Robinson (Munkustrap), Andreas Bieber (Tumblebrutus), Dean Welterlen (Rum-Tum-Tugger), Amy DeMayo (Jellylorum), Valentin Baraian (Mister Mistoffelees), Gordon Bovinet (Alt Deuteronimus)

CATS - 2004 - Madrid, Spain - Camshot - VOB Files

Helen de Quiroga (Grizabella), Pedro Ruy-Blas (Old Deuteronomy), Jack Rebaldi (Munkustrap), Edu (Rum Tum Tugger), Enrique Segura (Bustopher Jones/Asparagus/Growltiger), Gorane Markinez (Jellylorum/Griddlebone), Marta Malone (Jenny), Victor Ullate Jr Roche (Mistoffelees), Hugo Riveros Delporte (Mungojerrie), Raquel Grijalba (Rumpleteazer), Pepe Munoz (Plato/Macavity), Alberto Sanchez (Skimbleshanks)

CATS - 2005, June - Fifth National Tour (Troika) - Boise Idaho - VOB Files

Adam Perry (Alonzo), Christine LaDuca (Bombalurina), Demeter (Amy Phillips), Mungojerrie (Gregory Haney), Rumpleteazer (Lisa Schale), Old Deuteronomy (Jason Simon), Natalie Attino (Grizabella), Steven Rich (Gus/Bustohpher/Growltiger), Kym Chambers (Jellylorum/Griddlebone), Justin Wingenroth (Mr. Mistoffelees)