#hell maybe even sing it in irish

[roseverdict]

it is 4 AM which means it's Desperately Claw At Hobbies In An Attempt To Make Some Form Of Money To Set Aside So I Can Go Be An Adult Instead Of The Parentals' Puppet time!

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Rye Whiskey

♢ Summary: Celebrating Sean's return to camp includes a drunk Arthur, which allows you to discover this whole new side of him. ♢Words: 2057 ♢Warnings: None except for the whole alcohol/drinking theme, basically it's just a one-shot of a fluff idea I had watching the video of drunk Arthur saying nonsense to Saddie. ♢a/n: I recommend reading it with the mindset that Arthur is in the same state as in "A Quiet Time" and listening to Rye Whiskey to put you in the mood! Wrote a little sequel for this! Read it here. ♢Credits: These gorgeous dividers are from @cafekitsune!

♪ "O Mollie O Mollie, it's for your sake alone,

That I leave my old parents, my house and my home!" ♪

Even if one didn't know Sean had returned to the gang, they could have noticed it right away hearing his cheerful singing, his thick Irish accent rolling the words even more musically. As the main entertainer of the gang, he was absolutely delighted to have a party thrown for him, and honestly, his big toothless smile made your heart feel warmer. Tonight, in the fresh air of New Hanover, it was only laughter, guitar notes, and drunken sounds that were echoing through the camp, everyone finally having a real good time since they had settled at Horseshoe Overlook after such a long period hidden in the ruthless cold of the Grizzlies.

You were sitting around one of the campfires, with Javier, Sean, Uncle, and John. Karen had also joined, gladly sitting on Sean's lap with a bottle in her hand; you were sure there was something between them, and the poor man probably deserved some sweet time after what he had been through. Talking about bottles, the floor was flooded with a large amount of them around your little singing group, almost like a big pond of green shining glass you all fed every few minutes when someone would empty one.

You had your fair share of drinks already, a slight blush burning your cheeks, the alcohol keeping you warm under the night's cold breeze and happy despite the gang's precarious situation. Funny, how whiskey would make everything easier and more entertaining, no matter who or where you were looking at.

Alright, you had to admit it, maybe you were a bit tipsy, but so were John, Javier, Sean, and Karen, their happy faces softly lit by the golden flames. But Arthur, -Oh Lord, Arthur was far beyond drunk, he was wrecked. Looking at him from where you were sitting and singing along, you could see just how much of a mess he was; at least three of his shirt's buttons were undone, said shirt opened messily; his hair scattered under his hat and looking a bit sticky, almost as if he had put his whole head into a barrel of beer; he had a constant smile on his face, and his body was swaying slightly as if he was an unstable bottle being tossed around by the waves of a tormented sea. You chuckled to yourself; he was quite a sight to see, and you wondered if you actually had ever seen him that drunk. A few weeks back, Lenny had told you about the wild night he and Arthur had at Valentine's saloon, but the man in question had slept in jail and came back to camp completely sober, which made you unable to see his incredibly drunken state and made you wonder what the hell he must have done to end up in said jail.

♪ "If the Oceans were whiskey, and I were a duck, -Quack quack !-

I'd dive to the bottom, and get one sweet sup !" ♫

You chuckled at how Arthur had added the quacking part, finding it quite endearing. It was almost as if it was a whole new side of him, and you couldn't stop watching. His deep voice sounded surprisingly good as he was singing with the others, and you caught yourself liking hearing it. After all, you always had a sweet spot for him, so you wouldn't complain about having the opportunity to look at him as much as you wanted without him noticing it (or at least, being too drunk to understand what exactly was happening). His bright blue eyes, sparkling with the orange ashes of the fire, along with his light brown hair and stubble, his black opened shirt, his thin lips curled into this big stupid smile... It was all making your heart melt more and more. You almost lost it when he started drinking again, roughly grabbing a nearby bottle, probably without even knowing what it was containing, and bringing it to his mouth, the golden liquid sliding in his throat, making his Adam's apple bob, some glistening drops of it flowing from the bottle all the way down his scarred chin, then his throat, ending up lost in the dark hairs of his chest.

You're suddenly pulled out of your starring trance by his loud voice cutting through the song's lyrics: "Lenny, mah boy! Come and sing with us."

"Arthur... You had too many drinks again..." Lenny answered with an amused giggle as he was passing behind him, catching his inebriated eldest as he had got up to greet him, but ended up stumbling on the way and almost tripped on him, it only made Arthur laugh at himself.

There was no need to specify that Lenny had trouble holding him upright, Arthur being under normal circumstances quite a weight to carry, and even more so when he was in such a state not making any effort to prevent his face from kissing the ground. Quickly, you got up yourself, and took a few steps towards the men, helping Lenny on his difficult task.

"Look who it is... Miss Y/L/N !" Arthur greeted you with foggy eyes and a wide grin as if you two hadn't seen each other for years when you had talked only a few hours ago. He instantly put one of his arms above your shoulders and the other around Lenny's. "C-come ooon, let's dance !"

Lenny sighed before laughing a bit, letting Arthur bring him into his drunken enthusiasm; you chuckled along with him, not complaining about being so close to the handsome cowboy you had your heart and eye on for a while, even if he was barely able to register what he was actually doing and with whom. As Javier started playing a lively song, Arthur, Lenny and you were throwing your legs up in the air; you laughed some more noticing how your favorite cowboy had a hard time actually following the rhythm. You couldn't believe just how euphoric he was tonight, almost as if the bottles had turned on a switch in his mind, making him go completely wild without any of his usual gruff restraints. Maybe that was what the alcohol did to everyone. Maybe that was what it was doing to you right now but you couldn't be sure if it was, precisely because you were happily drunk and carefree.

The night continued and you blushed realizing Arthur hadn't let you go, his arms always ended up around your shoulders or on it as he was sometimes leaning against you. His manly scent, a sweet mix of smoky tones brought by tobacco and gunpowder, and woody ones, supported by pine and leather traces. Your head was starting to feel dizzy just by smelling it, your mind even more intoxicated by it than the alcohol you had been drinking all night.

"Maybe..."

You brush away your thoughts, he was really drunk, and he could have been like that with anyone. You spent the rest of the night having fun, drinking some more, laughing, singing, the whole gang having more and more fun as everyone had loosened up thanks to the booze. However at some point, the main man of the party, Sean, disappeared with Karen, and people started going to bed. After all, it was almost morning already, the stars of the night not as bright anymore as they were around the middle of the night, subtle sun rays making their presence known behind the outlines of the mountains, but not appearing just yet.

It was now only you, John, and Arthur left around the campfire, the dark-haired man looking down at his brother at heart, an amused grin on his face. Arthur was half asleep at you and John's feet, bottle in one hand, his other arm curled up around your leg. With all the proximity and physical contact he had given you through the whole night, your heart and body had gotten warmer, and you had to make enormous efforts to keep your thoughts in line, not wanting to have any false hope about him and his behavior.

"He's so goddamn drunk... " John sighed.

"Clearly."

"Come on, let's carry him to bed." John said to you, getting up with difficulty from the log you both were sitting on.

"Aah, you guys are no f-fun!" Arthur protested, his voice even hoarser than usual due to his intoxicated self. "Come on, one more drink!"

"Nope, you're going to bed." John's own croaky tone answered his partner. He then looked at you while bending down, expecting you to help him lift Arthur's poor body.

You leaned over, helping John. Arthur was barely able to walk, leaning heavily on you and John, one of his arms above John's shoulder just as earlier with Lenny, but his other one around your waist. Your cheeks burned. Even if it was just drunken attention... You liked it.

The three of you started to walk to Arthur's tent, as fast as you could considering his feet were more brushing the ground than actually stepping on it. You just weren't capable of having any coherent thoughts at this point, your whole being living for the warm sensation of his big palm on your waist, feeling how his fingers were gently rubbing against your clothes.

"You two... Are the b-best..." Arthur slurred out in a rough voice when you had reached his tent. As gently as you both could, John and you were trying to lay him in his cot.

"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Arthur." John answered with an amused chuckle, placing one of his legs in its rightful place on his bed.

"Y/N, you're beautiful..." Arthur added in an almost unintelligible rumble, as you were pulling back from him. "I l-love you."

Your jaw dropped. What did he say? Did you hear that right? You froze, eyes glued to the outlaw, who was already turning around to sleep on his stomach, lips parted, a light snore emerging from his noose; he had instantly fallen asleep as if he had permission to now that he was in his cot.

John looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't take it seriously, Y/N." He advised you. "He already told that to Abigail and Karen before, even Saddie if I reckon right."

"Oh, erm... Alright, I won't." You answered your friend. Honestly, you probably would have slept better not knowing that; a sharp little sliver of disappointment subtly piercing through your heart. "Goodnight then, John."

"Goodnight, Y/N, thanks for the help." The scarred man greeted you before heading to his own tent. It was so late, you were sure Abigail would reprimand him for that tomorrow morning.

But that was John's problem, and you already had one yourself.

You took a last look at your sleepy cowboy before walking off to your own tent. He looked cute like this, hair messy, clothes completely disheveled; even his snoring was pretty endearing to you. You reluctantly turned your back to him, resisting the urge to actually lay with him in his cot. After all, he wouldn't have complained, wouldn't he? He probably wouldn't even have noticed... These thoughts got stuck in your brain as you lay in your own cot, pretty tired yourself after partying all night, your spirit slowly drifting away in the realm of dreams, sleep troubled by blurry visions of what had happened during the night, a beautiful, charming, stupid smile keeping on reappearing from time to time in your slumber.

Arthur opened his eyes. "It hurts"; were the first words that came to his mind. His back, his neck, his goddamn head, everything was hurting him. Getting old was definitely not a piece of cake. He rubbed his eyes, which felt dry and burnt, just like his thorny throat, even if a slight string of saliva had slid from his mouth. Getting that drunk was definitely too frequent for him lately, the other night with Lenny still engraved in his memory and his tired body, fed up with his poor drinking decisions. He slowly got up, rubbing his face, carefully avoiding his gaze from looking at the sun, its light way too powerful for him in this hungover state.

Looking around the camp, he smiled internally seeing Karen emerging from Sean's tent. Little bastard had gotten himself a good time last night. While thinking back about what happened, he had a hard time remembering all of it, as often when he was that drunk. Maybe it was better that way, considering his impressive capacity to get in trouble and make a fool of himself in those kinds of situations. However this time, something was lingering in the back of his mind.

You.

Your delicate smell, how the soft fabric of your clothes felt under his fingers, how your voice sounded into his ears, how smooth and mellow your leg was. How the hell did he knew about all that? He focused, frowning, trying so hard to remember what had happened, but all he had was these sensations, those pleasant, haunting sensations. He couldn't help but feel flustered all by himself, sat on his bed, cheeks getting slightly flushed, just imagining the reasons why he suddenly knew so much about the grain of your skin and the warmth of your body against his;

He prayed deeply he didn't do anything stupid with you; Lord knows how important you were to him. Hell, he had thought about you a lot already, thought about offering you flowers or maybe a nice jewel, something that would be as pretty as you even if to him, no physical object could ever compete with your astonishing beauty and your adorable, sweet, sunny personality.

But before all that, he needed to have a few words about last night with you. Probably would stumble on his words, look like an idiot again, but at least he would be able to be close to you, just like in those sweet lingering memories in his head.

Sequel here.

a/n : Alright so... Here it is! My first one-shot ever. Please, if you notice anything, any mistakes, or a weird-sounding sentence: let me know! English isn't my first language and I'm actually anxious as hell to publish this! Anyway, thanks for reading this until the end and take care <3

[emptymasks]

i got to see hadestown on the west end and all i have to say is AAAA. i liked the original broadway cast so much i didn't think anything else could compare to me, but omg they were all amazing and maybe it's a bias from seeing it live vs seeing broadway through recordings, but i actually enjoyed them so much more. i think what helped is i felt a lot more for donal's orpheus, whereas reeve's never managed to really put at my heartstrings.

okayokay what i have to list out loved (going to try and go through the show chronologically):

la barrie's hermes using no titles and they/them pronouns. the lyrics were changed to reflect this eg "excuse me, hermes" instead of "mister hermes" at the beginning of 'wait for me', and "feathers on their feet" instead of "feathers on his feet" in 'road to hell'.

the cast keeping their own accents. it's not often in uk theatre to hear british regional accents, even if the actor has or had that accent. so hearing a nothern accent from eurydice was aaaa. as a northerner it made me really happy. i'm not sure if that's grace's real accent or not but aa it just made .

donál keeping his irish accent too. and the chemistry between his orpheus and grace's eurydice was adorable.

hermes slowly kissing persephone hand during 'our lady of the underground'.

PERSEPHONE didn't think I could love anyone more than grey but omg. i've never loved "our lady of the underground" but I do now, the way gloria performed it and this one long belting note she did while bending over crazy far backwards aaa. and at one point while dancing she acted like she'd gone too hard and pulled her back and got stuck, but then very smoothly went into leaning down towards the audience and singing directly at people in the front rows.

wasn't 100% sold on hades at first since his voice isn't as deep as what I'm used too (used to listening to page as hades), but after "i conduct the electric city" and the lights went out and when they came back on there was a single silly spotlight on hades was stood leaning against the door checking his nails all sultry like. his acting was so different from what I'm used too, more energetic and more... playful? i'm not sure if that's the right word but i can't think of anything else. and less cold and stern than page but I ended up really enjoying him. i've got two very different versions of hades i love now.

new lyrics in epic three, "what has become of the heart of that man" has been replaced with new lyrics. i think "man with his arms outreached" has reverted back to pre-broadway "man with his hat in his hands" but i'll be honest me memory of what the new lyrics are is not great.

i cried when hades and persephone danced. both of them were crying. and when they finished dancing he sobbed and crumpled into her arms and she stroked his head and back and held him the whole time orpheus and eurydice sang "promises"

hades breaking it down during the dance, doing silly dance moves and making persphone laugh, and then she joins in and does his silly dance moves with him 10/10 people supporting their partners silly dance moves.

hades "i don't know" answer to if orpheus and eurydice can go... i'm used to patrick page's grave, defeated "i don't know" and here instead you could really see the inner conflict and he was holding hands with persephone and when he said it she angrily let go of his hand and he had his little "his kiss the riot" freak out.

orpheus and hades handshake during the wait for me reprise aaaa

[jungle-angel]

Two Birds In A Nest (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob are just beginning to build your lives in Montana and hope that your family will grow with it

Warnings: Talks about starting a family, wanting a family, smut etc.

Your moans were tied together with Bob's even as you felt him gutter into you, an explosion of warmth blooming between your legs as your heavy breathing began to even out with each other's. You reached up, placing a hot hand against Bob's chest, feeling his fast heartbeat beneath your palm.

"Oh baby," he sighed happily, nuzzling your cheeks and your jaw. "My sweet (y/n), I can't get enough of you."

You giggled a little as you felt his baby smooth skin against yours, the both of you still sensitive to each other's kissing and caressing. Bob helped you up from your bed and into the bathroom, running a hot bath for the both of you to get you cleaned up. God it was heaven being in your brand new bathroom and not having to worry about who would be up at some ungodly hour of the morning to hog the shower. The steam carried with it the smell of Bob's Irish Spring body wash that he used on the both of you, gently washing every part of you that he could touch. Back into your shared bedroom you both went, crawling under the warm covers as the blizzard outside began to rage. Your house however, was so cozy and warm, the dogs sleeping soundly in their crates while the cats had taken to the laundry room in the finished basement.

You and Bob lay facing each other, chest to chest, tits pressing against each other and still warm from the bath. He looked like a dream with his soft cheeks, his limpid blue eyes that reminded you of the forget-me-nots that popped in your garden every spring. The lazy but loving smile on his face was almost the same as his dad's, the spitting image in all those family photos of Bob as a baby being held by Joe, his father.

Yet there was something that stirred and ached in your chest. You couldn't put your finger on what it was or why it was there, but it was.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" Bob asked, seeing the worrisome look playing with your face.

"Do you ever feel like something's missing?" you asked in reply.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," you answered a little sadly. "I just.....I pass by one of the empty rooms and all I can see in there is you standing over a crib.....a little baby in your arms.....maybe you're sitting in the rocker singing and rocking him or her to sleep."

Bob could feel his eyes burning and a few loose tears beginning to form. Growing up the youngest in a big family, he spent endless days playing with all his nieces and nephews, sometimes watching them while his brothers and sisters either didn't have the time to do so or had to go on a SEAL team mission like his oldest sister, Reagan's husband. Picking them up from school, playing with them and taking care of them had made him feel as though there had been a hole somewhere that he could just hardly fill. Ever since the two of you had gotten married, he wanted so badly to have just that....a family of your own and a house that truly felt like home.

"Oh baby," he cooed, kissing your cheeks. "It'll happen, don't you worry."

You had hoped so. God you had hoped so. It was all you could think about, even when you were at the school trying to teach your fifth graders about ancient India and having to fill one side of the chalkboard with a drawing from The Ramayana. Now that you and Bob could finally have the time to try, you were excited, happy, nervous and scared all at once.

"Do you....do you wanna try?" you asked him a little meekly.

You felt him roll his body on top of yours, the heat intensifying a little bit from the heavy duvet you only used in the winter. "Hell yes," Bob murmured, his lips gently grazing against yours.

You felt him kiss you gently, just as he had done earlier that night, the wetness beginning to build again between your legs as his red hot, throbbing cock slipped inside you with ease. You sighed and moaned happily as his hips thrust gently in and out of you, slowly drawing your orgasm out of you. It was almost like the blizzard outside, dizzying and a wild flurry of moans, groaning and skin slapping against skin before everything calmed down and you and Bob were resting skin-to-skin against each other.

"You think this one will take?" you asked sleepily.

"I've got a feeling," Bob yawned.

Sure enough it did. After almost a week of you waking up sick, you and Bob were over the moon to find that it had taken, the tears filling his eyes when he hears the baby's heartbeat for the first time, more so when you learn that it's a little boy, your tiny little August Robert Floyd, who becomes the biggest blessing your family has ever received.

[thinkblotted]

Waulking Song

David is over a hundred years dead, but that doesn't mean he's forgotten all of what came before.

-

So, this one was very fun to write, and includes one of my personal favorite headcanons that I'm still tickled that the fandom has adopted a few times: David is Irish! Or, at least, the son of first generation Irish immigrants to America. And for context: a waulking song is a song typically sung while beating clothing like tartan or tweed, 'waulking' it, against a table to help fell and shrink it to help it repel water.

As always, thank you!

At first, Michael thinks it's another dream. 

The darkness of the room is velvet around him, the sleep still heavy in his body and eyes. The bedsheets under Michael's cheek are a bit stiff, smelling distantly like plain detergent that the motel uses. The line between waking and not is fuzzy, and even as sensations of the real world filter in, he feels liable to slip back into unconsciousness. 

In sleep, there are normally bodies tucked next to him, the room only having two beds. Michael's dreams are usually his own, all of his own mind. Nonsense fueled by stress or boredom, or whatever made the brain tick. Sometimes though, even in sleep, the dead moved. Rolling closer to him, brushing the skin of an arm or hand against his without knowing, and his mind would feel it. Their dreams were like a distant voice from another room, and if he were conscious, he'd only have to step forward to hear them all clearly. 

Michael rises back to the world of the waking to a soft, lilting voice filling the silence of the dark room. He thinks that too may be the last moment of a dream he is not having. 

But there are no bodies beside him now. 

Michael languidly shifts on the bed, arm pulling out from under a pillow to curl against his chest, and legs stretching out to feel the lower part of the mattress. He's kicked the blankets off halfway, as he usually does. He’s wearing a loose tee and sweatpants under the covers. Comfortable and warm.

He's alone on the bed. The space beside him where Marko had been, and at the foot of the bed where Thorn had been sleeping, is empty. Michael blinks his eyes open, and even in the darkness, can see across the room. That bed is also empty - Paul and Dwayne gone as well. 

There is a small line of light from under the door to the bathroom. The hiss and dribble of the running shower comes into focus as a backdrop to a quiet, singing voice.

Realization shocks through him, and Michael’s eyes widen, sleep dissipated. It’s. 

It’s David. 

Even through the wood of the closed door, under the running water and the hum of the bathroom fan, Michael can hear him. His low voice, murmuring out the words. 

Michael can’t place the tune. It’s not the hard rock or screaming metal that he’s used to Paul and Marko blaring out, or the older, meandering songs and beats that Dwayne likes, and not a bopping pop earworm that they all get annoyed about. Hell, for a moment, as he listens, Michael realizes it’s not even in English. 

“Tá ceann buí óir ar an dúlamán gaelach. Tá dhá chluais mhaol ar an dúlamán maorach.”

David’s voice curls around the words in unfamiliar patterns. Long, weaving vowels and harsh breathy stops that never quite leave his throat. The pattern of the lyrics to a very different time signature that Michael cannot help but lie still and listen intently to. 

”Bróga breaca dubha ar an dúlamán gaelach. Tá bearéad agus triús ar an dúlamán maorach.

Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach. Dúlamán na farraige, b'fhearr a bhí in Éirinn.”

…Russian? No, Michael had heard enough of that on TV to know at least the sound of it. Certainly not French, and it definitely wasn’t Spanish.

Continuing to listen brings him no closer to an answer, but Michael finds himself relaxing on the bed again. Eyes on the door. Just letting the words and David’s voice pass over him. Some phrases are more clear than others, David repeating them a few times, while others he barely mumbles, maybe forgetting the words, or losing his train of thought. Michael can’t help but pay attention to it all. 

”Cha bhfaigheann tú mo 'níon, arsa an dúlamán gaelach. Bheul, fuadóidh mé liom í, arsa an dúlamán maorach

Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach. Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach. Dúlamán na farraige, b'fhearr a bhí in Éirinn.”

Eventually David trails off, the words turn into humming and the water patters harder against the tub basin. Rinsing off. The water shuts off, and Michael hears the rustling of a towel. A huff of breath. 

Michael, in a fit of sudden self-consciousness, ducks his head back down. Hiding half his face in the pillow. The door swings open and the motel room is bathed in light as David steps out of the bathroom. 

As quickly as it had come, the light shuts off. It might not have been the sun, but vampires didn’t prefer bright lights and the afterimage hazes in Michael’s eyes for a moment. In the wake of the all-consuming focus, Michael feels the silence like a blanket over his ears. 

David moves to the other bed, and Michael watches him. He is bare, save for the damp towel around his hips, and when that is removed, Michael’s gaze flickers away. Until David pulls up from rummaging in the bags stowed on the floor. Until there is…at least one layer over pale, naked skin. It’s not that Michael had never seen David undressed before - living how they were, between stripping off bloody clothing and the lack of room and the mental closeness, there simply wasn’t space for that sort of modesty - but it wasn’t often that David took off so many layers all at once. 

He watches David slip on the dark pants, an undershirt, a tee shirt. He leans back to sit on the bed, to put on socks. 

“What was that song?” Michael asks. 

David startles. Goes still, rather like a deer in the headlights. His head jerks up, blue eyes flashing just a hint of yellow in the dark. 

It is only when he’s spoken that Michael realizes that this is the first time in nearly two weeks that he's spoken directly to David. 

The fight had been bad. Bad by their own standards, at that. Maybe it had been the fact that they’d not been able to stay in one place for more than a couple of days, constantly moving. Maybe it had been the hunger that seemed to chase them, especially Michael being a fledgling, like a hellhound at their heels. Maybe it had just been a full moon - who knows. But one moment, David had made a comment, Michael had answered, David had countered again, and they were off to the races. 

At least this one hadn’t come to blows. 

Well. Michael wasn’t going to take it back. That would be stupid anyway. He waits. 

David’s mouth twitches, caught between words, or maybe emotions. Not anger, but not comfortable condescension. Michael’s question hangs in the air like the steam from the bathroom. At first, it seems like David is going to continue his side of the silent treatment. 

Then, he licks his teeth, a flash of pearly tooth in the soothing gesture before tucking back behind thin lips. He leans forward to resume slipping on the socks and reaches for his boots. His eyes are no longer meeting Michael’s. 

“Wasn’t anything, Michael.” 

Michael frowns, scowling a little. “David, I heard you. I was just curious.” 

David sneers as he laces up a boot. “You listen to everyone while they’re in the bathroom? Boy, I’m starting to wonder just who I let into my pack.” 

The growl that erupts from Michael’s throat is rough with sleep and lack of practice making such a noise. He keeps his mouth closed around his teeth, though. No need to add fuel to David’s fire. 

“Fine. Whatever, asshole. I just asked a question, not like anyone needs to actually convey fucking information around here.” 

Michael kicks off the blankets all the way, shoving them harshly aside as he moves to sit up and start dressing. He’d go for a shower himself but that would take time, and he doesn’t feel like dealing with trying not to trigger his bane while irritation already simmers in his stomach. He’s halfway off the bed, preparing himself for another long night of either driving or trying to keep himself busy while going nowhere, when David actually speaks again. 

“...It was Gaeilge.” 

Michael pauses. He looks at David. 

He’s got the remaining boot in his hands, but he’s not putting it on. His pale fingers are toying with the laces, running them between the digits. His face is…unreadable. 

“What?” Michael asks reflexively at the unknown word.  

It’s David’s turn to scowl now. “You’d probably just call it ‘Irish’ these days.” 

“That’s a country,” Michael says incredulously. 

David’s teeth click as his jaw flexes.

“Ah, forgive me, then. Didn’t realize I was wrong, thank you for correcting me after a hundred years of stupidity for not knowing what I was even talking about.”

David snarls and stops playing with the boot, jamming it onto his foot. His words are clipped in a way that betrays real anger under the surface of his sarcastic wording.

David was hurt. 

Much like the realization that it had been him singing in the beginning, the notion that anything Michael could say to him would…sting him, find its way under some unseen crack in that black shell is. Almost ludicrous. 

But then, why else would Michael suddenly feel like he’d shoved his foot all the way down his own throat. 

“It sounded nice.” 

David’s back is to him, having stood up and rounded the bed to look through the other bags. Maybe just to give his hands something to do. Michael thinks he won’t respond this time, and maybe he’d have every right to. 

But David sighs. He raises a hand to his face, and even without seeing it Michael can imagine the way the vampire rubs his knuckles across the bridge of his nose. 

“It’s just an old nonsense song. Got it stuck in my head.” 

Michael nods a little, even if David can’t see it. “You said it was Irish?” 

“Mm. Learned it from my mother, while she was washing clothes.” 

His mother. Michael has to take a moment to even digest the words at all, let alone what they mean. It’s not often anyone in the pack ever talks about their human lives - Marko being the most common, followed by Paul, but even then, it was usually only funny anecdotes or purely relevant information with little detail or context. Their human lives didn’t…matter anymore. Hazy with the memories of human senses, human emotions, human understanding of the world. For people like David, they were a lifetime away, and a mere extant point in time in the forever of their futures. 

But David apparently remembers his mother, and a song she used to sing. 

“What’s it about?” 

“...Seaweed.” 

Michael blinks, and feels a small, surprised smile steal onto his face. “It’s about- what?” 

David snorts, but turns to face Michael again. His face is much more open. Amused, even. 

“You heard me. I told you, it was nonsense.” 

“Why would the Irish write a song about seaweed?” 

David just lazily throws his hands in the air, leaning back against the wall. “Why does anyone do anything? Are you going to get dressed, or are you going to ask for an entire small country’s musical history?” 

Michael’s hands are indeed still holding a pair of pants that he’d been in the process of taking out of his travel bags when David had responded to his question, and had simply forgotten them. He considers the jeans, the light denim, his thumb on the fold of the knee where the material had almost worn through. There’s a rusty brown patch there. A red stain not yet faded. 

“It beats talking about anything else,” Michael says.

The amusement fades a little from David’s face. The sudden break of their two weeks of ignoring each other's existence and the reason why warring with each other. 

Maybe David would have said something else, maybe Michael would have fallen back into trying not to speak again, but before either thing could happen, the door to the motel room swings inwards. The handle bangs loudly off the wall, vibrating with the force. 

“Oh good, Sleeping Beauty joins the land of the mostly living! Y’all are fuckin’ slow, it’s been past sunset for like, hours-” 

Paul bursts into the room in a whirl of blond hair and gangly limbs that he somehow had enough control over to not smack into anything. He’s at David’s side in a second, a body full of energy with nowhere to direct it but out. 

“It’s barely past nine,” David drawls, taking the bodily hit with barely a blink. 

“Yeah, and Dwayne told me to tell you that if you don’t haul ass and meet us at the gas station by the overpass he’s going to strap you both to his handlebars and keep you there ‘till we get to Cheyenne.” 

Even as he’s speaking, Paul is moving away, reaching down and picking up bags and preparing to leave. He looks over to Michael. 

“Nice hair.” 

“Thanks, I just woke up.” 

Paul doesn’t continue the banter. Just shrugs at David, clearly communicating something as their eyes meet, and then slips back out the door. 

David doesn’t look back at Michael, rather crouching to pick up his own pack and straighten his coat from the minor rufflement. Michael sets himself about actually dressing. 

“If you want, you can clean up before we go,” David says as he’s walking to the door. 

“Yeah?” 

“Sure.” David glances over his shoulder. “I promise I won’t listen.” 

[venus-lou]

Pink Glock

TF141 x Reader

How TF141 reacts to your newly customized gun

This was on my YouTube recommendation and I love it and this idea popped in my head. I also know nothing about guns soooo, use you imagination I guess lol

“So why are we all here?” Price raised his eyebrows at you. After gather everyone to the outdoor shooting range. Ghost stood leaning on a wooden post with his arms crossed, Gaz and Soap was curious with your latest project you teased them about.

“I wanted to show you guys something!” You proudly announce before pulling out your newly customized gun. A pink pistol with a few modifications to make it automatic. Adding a keychain clip, allowing you to add a small hello kitty plush to it. You had a small- okay maybe huge collection of keychain plushes in your room. Somehow getting a new keychain Every deployment.

Whipping out your pistol with a proud smile before shoving it in front of price “look!” You presented it to Soap and Gaz. They tried to control they’re laughter “pfft, it’s perfect for ya lass” Soap smiled at you with his brows raised.

Heading to show Ghost, “look! Do you like it Ghost?!” You waved it in front of him as his eyes slightly widen before slowly nodding. He didn’t know how you come up with these idea, curiosity peaked at how this abomination works.

Price shook his head before telling you to show them how it shoots. You walked over to the range looking over your shoulder before shooting a few rounds.

- I can’t do the video justice, please watch it -

After your little performance turning around smiling bouncing on your toes. “Soooo?” You were meet with silence before Soap followed by Gaz started clapping. Price shook his head, unable to hide his smile. Patting your back as you walked back to them. Ghost still silent he as he stood up from his position walking toward you. Standing tall looking down at you, “good job kid”

You walked over to a suitcase behind a wooden crate, “I’m glad you guys like it cause I made you guys one to” presenting the suitcase like a treasure chest. You swear you could hear the angels sing and light gleaming from the suitcase. There were four pink guns each having their own little keychain/charm to it. Handing soap one with a Irish soap keychain, “I couldn’t find a Scottish soap, so I made you Irish Spring soap. Price, I got you a otter plush cause you looks just like you! I even gave it a mini version of your hat.”

Turning to Gaz, you handed him one with a small plush helicopter with a little bear attach to it by a string “it’s you! Since you keep falling out of planes” chuckling he thanked you. The last gun had a skeleton Badtz Maru one it. Handing it to Ghost, he inspected it, looking down at you as he patted you head as a thanks.

Before they could say anything if you skipped off to König as he walked by. Sighing Price look at the little otter hanging from the pistol “where the hell did they even have time to do this?”

“And why is mine fucking Irish Spring Soap?!”

——————————————————————————

As you walked through the warehouse, senses heighten pulling out your gun. Everyone turned around hearing a metal clash against each other, ready to shoot the enemy. “Fucking hell, why did you bring that with you.” Price whispered at you. Seeing your pink gun, looking completely out of place in a life or death situation.

[m3r1m4r5u333]

I saw some people critiqueing Hozier's Too Sweet for "the quality of the lyrics being low", being too "mainstream", too "pop".

I don't know if I want to laugh or despair. Like obviously nobody is obligated to like a song, but sneering that the lyrics are too "popsongy" is just such an unfair, dumb take to me.

This song is exactly the sort of song that would be perfect for teaching literary/lyric/art analysis because it's so much deeper than it appears to be when you first hear it.

It's upbeat, catchy, sounds like a basic breakup-song at first glance, right?

It's a love song - sounds like the protagonist is talking to a lover, right?

...Is it though? Listen again, read the lyrics.

I think it's really quite political. It's a society critique. I think it's about (willful) ignorance, wearing blindfolds in a world that's burning.

"Baby I can never tell/

How do you sleep so well?"

Also, "You're too sweet for me". The line sounds like it's about lack of self-worth. ... Is it, though? Maybe it's an expression of disgust. People who like their coffee unsweetened tend to go "yack" when the coffee is sweetened.

Also, he sings "I think I'll take my whiskey neat". Sounds like a simple line... Is it? Hozier is irish. To quote wikipedia:

"Uisce beatha (Irish pronunciation: [ˈɪʃcə ˈbʲahə]), literally "water of life", is the name for whiskey in Irish. It is derived from the Old Irish uisce ("water") and bethu ("life").[1] "

"A neat whiskey" btw means that the whiskey is pure, as it is, not even ice added.

So the chorus:

I think I'll take my whiskey neat

My coffee black and my bed at three

You're too sweet for me

You're too sweet for me

I take my whiskеy neat

My coffee black and my bed at three

You're too sweet for mе

You're too sweet for me

... Kinda sounds like the idea is that the protagonist thinks that he's a better person than the one who is "too sweet", who ignores the dark, bitter things in life, and takes their world "sweetened".

However, I think the chorus is actually also a self-critique. Are you really doing much if you're drinking a black coffee? Sure, it sounds all moody, bitter and cool, but anyone who knows anything about the coffee industry knows that whenever you're drinking coffee you are also kinda wilfully ignoring all sorts of problems caused and surrounding the coffee industry.

"A neat whiskey" sounds like you're taking the world as it is... But what is alcohol but oblivion?

"Taking the bed at three" also sounds quite deep, like you're choosing to see the darkness of this world instead of avoiding it. Staying up, or not being able to sleep, hardly solves any problems either, though.

I could go on analyzing the song, but I think I'll leave it at that. I think the beauty of the lyrics is that the lines are so multidimensional.

Like when he sings "I aim low", is he talking about ambitions, punches, or Hell? Something else?

I certainly feel gut-punched, as I always do, when I listen to Hozier!

Edit. Oh and the music video!! Ants nesting in a desert. That's us, people, isn't it?

[usaigi]

Important question: if we assume that Claire Temple is Afro-Cuban and Puerto Rican like Rosario, how does Mexican!Matt relate to her when she fishes him out of a dumpster? I don’t know if her specific heritage is a factor; I'm just kind of curious how you see two Latinx people meeting as opposed to when Matt was broadly Irish.

Omg what an amazing question thank you thank you

If Matt was at all conscious while Santiago and Claire were carrying him up and he heard them speak Spanish, I think Matt would instinctively tell Claire not to call in the cops in Spanish. Then they'd have the following conversation in Spanish until they both simultaneously realize that the other also speaks English.

But, I think Claire would subsciously see Mexican!Matt as someone from her community trying to help their community instead of an well meaning outsider and trust him sooner. And while I won't call canon!Matt a "well-meaning outsider," it's based on first impressions. Claire doesn't know Matt was raised by a single dad in that same neighborhood who struggled to pay the bill and worked his way through law school, Claire just sees some white dude in her dumpster. She's heard the rumors of the guy in a black mask fighting crime but she doesn't know what his motivates are. As far as she knows, it's just some rich dude chasing fame and hoping to be recruited by the Avengers.

I think the show does an good job as showing class solidarity in Hell's Kitchen. The people most vulnerable to violent crime are poor people, not one specific ethnic group. Mrs. Cardenas and her neighbors weren't targeted because they're POC or lack English skills or are predominately undocumented workers, they were targeted because they were poor. Still, even when there is class solidarity in a community, it doesn't erase racism. A poor white person life experience will be different from a poor Latino or Black person.

Speaking from my own community (undocumented Latino) there is a great fear of calling the police due to fear of deportation and the involvement of ICE. Cops in LATAM are notoriously corrupt as well, so it's reasonable to believe that a lot of immigrants are generally distrustful of cops in the states because they're so corrupt in their home country. If you had a traumatic experience in your home country, you're not going to trust cops in the US. Because of this, I feel like the Latino community would be more support of vigilantes like Daredevil simply because they're not associated with law enforcement.

I don't think Matt and Claire's relationship would change too much since I don't think it took Claire too long to realize that canon!Matt was fighting because he cares about his city/the people (and not because of a white savior complex or ego or whatever). I have to assume that Claire had some discussion about race and crime with canon!Matt beforing fully enforcing his vigilante ways. You can't really be anti-crime without being actively anti-racist.

Mexican!Matt relationship with Luke Cage (and Danny because I hc him as Washian in my AU) might be different. Maybe there some unspoken solidarity. Or maybe there just more room for comedy

*Karen, Foggy, Jess and Trish talking in a circle*

Colleen: Are you guys better not start singing Sweet Caroline.

Matt: 🤭

Claire: Don't laugh canelo, you're already on thin ice

Matt: Hey! >:(

[bettyg196]

Here is what I think about the JESC 2024 entries (possibly a controversial post).

🇲🇰 For a song called Marathon, I expected more energy and power. Despite its banality, it's still nice. Ana & Aleksej sing well and there were good ideas, it's just a lack of execution. Sounds more like a song for the Olympics or European Football Cup than of JESC entry.

🇨🇾 Bop alert ! The dancebreak is nice but not necessary, it's mainly the production and the arrangement that give the strength the song needed. It's the kind of entry that doesn't require vocal effort, so Maria should be fine. Very good song, Cyprus is truly back !

🇺�� Winner contender ! Very dynamic song, Artem knows how to perform on stage and will set Madrid on fire. A lot of people will recognise themselves in the lyrics. Biggest weak point : the chorus is repetitive. I usually don't mind, but it spoils the song. Anyway, Ukraine can win.

🇪🇪 Estonian EDM ? YES ! Great choice Estonia ! Love the 90s vibes. There is a lot of potential for JESC. I like Annabelle's deep voice, it's the perfect tone for this song. It could have been an Eesti Laul entry though. It deserves a solid staging. It's either a hit or miss.

🇳🇱 Not original, generic af and overheard. But I don't care. It's simply efficient, catchy and memorable. With a good staging, good vocals and harmony in the band, The Netherlands should finish in the top 10.

🇦🇱 Very good surprise, it's very good for Albania's standards in JESC. Musical tunes remind me of Padam Padam (the Edith Piaf one, not the Kylie Minogue one), don't ask me why. Maybe influences ? Nicol is an excellent singer. I'm not worried about the country's results this year.

🇵🇹 Cancel the contest, we have a winner ! What a beautiful and powerful song ! Goosebumps at every listening. This song is made for Eurovision (junior and senior). Portugal can win this. The question is : Lisbon, Porto or Braga in 2025 ?

Boa sorte é força Victoria !

🇮🇹 Italy is offering us a festive sleepover this year. It's the most original and junior theme entry of the edition, glad to see the country trying something else. Guilty pleasure. Simone deserves a fun staging in the theme of the song. Maybe a return to the top 10 ?

🇸🇲 It's bland. Also, is it autotune we hear in the studio version of the song ? Why ? Idols SM doesn't need it, it ruins the entry. The girl band deserves better. The lyrics don't seem very researched to me, although I don't and can't understand Italian. San Marino won't do well.

🇵🇱 Slightly better than last year's entry, but what the hell happened to victorious Poland in JESC ? Dominik is a talented singer, he deserves a better song. It's not bad, but I'm not sure the online voting and the staging can save Poland from a ranking outside of the top 10.

🇩🇪 Meh. At least, the entry suits for JESC, but it has no originality and flavor. Too generic to stand out from the other songs, easily the worst German entry in this competition. Bjarne sings well though.

🇬🇪 Classic, that's the word for this entry. Too classic for JESC and Georgia's standards. I think even the juries won't be convinced by this song, even with a good staging. It's a shame because the melody is beautiful and Andria has a beautiful voice.

🇦🇲 Winner contender ! Bop alert ! This cosmic disco entry can steal the show. Armenia has once again understood the assignment. Leo could have the same fate than Lissandro in 2022. Great song !

🇮🇪 After 2 years of Irish ballads, Ireland is sending a pop song that could have been in the Irish NF for adult Eurovision. Quite generic but it's okay overall and Enya sings well. Normally, it shouldn't finish in the bottom with the adequate staging.

🇲🇹 It's really nice. It's not original and impactful, but the juries will like it. Ramires is a great singer, his singing is pleasant to hear and his voice attracts attention. This is, imo, the main outsider of JESC this year. Malta will do better than expected.

🇪🇸 Quite similar to the only winning Spanish entry in JESC, it's almost its spiritual sequel. It's a very funny, catchy and memorable song, Chloe's personality is its main strength. However, it's a controversial opinion, I don't feel the winner vibes. It's giving top 5 at best.

🇫🇷 France is trying something else, that colourful pop song is more aimed at teenagers. It could have been a theme song for a teen drama show. Titouan is a great singer, it's a very nice and catchy entry. But like for Spain, it's not a winner contender imo, top 3 at best.

Here is my top 17

1. 🇵🇹

2. 🇦🇲

3. 🇮🇹

4. 🇳🇱

5. 🇨🇾

6. 🇪🇪

7. 🇺🇦

8. 🇫🇷

9. 🇦🇱

10. 🇪🇸

11. 🇲🇹

12. 🇮🇪

13. 🇲🇰

14. 🇵🇱

15. 🇩🇪

16. 🇬🇪

17. 🇸🇲

[birdmadgrrl]

Chapter 1: The Mountains

Traveling, both thrilling and exhausting, has shaped most of my adult life. My dog Sir Barold, half Belgian shepherd and half wolf, would follow me without question into the depths of hell. An eleven hour flight and four hour car ride from Dublin, Ireland to Gatlinburg, Tennessee could definitely mimic hell. Sir Barold was asleep snoring in the back seat. “Google maps, you’re about as helpful as a grounded plane.” Squinting through the dense trees, my eyes landed on a building. I glanced at my phone. “1018.”

I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a whistle when I got closer. Three stories of elaborate woodwork and stone stood proudly at the top of a hill. “1019. I thought that looked a little too fancy for us, Bear.” Two blocks ahead to my left I could see a one story cabin with a wrap around porch. 1018 backed up to a peaceful river, and on either side of the driveway stood huge laurel trees.

I opened my car door and stretched letting the mountain air fill my lungs. “Ok sleepy boy, it’s time to check out the temporary digs.” On the kitchen table there was a basket of fruit and a welcome note from Matt. Matt, the park ranger who graciously offered me a fully furnished cabin east of downtown and west of Rainbow Falls, was inviting me to dinner. No doubt he’s wanting to discuss drumming up tourism in the area.

Sir Barold was already testing out the king bed as I nibbled on an apple and continued reading the note. I almost choked in surprise. 1019 is Matt’s home! He must be a bear whisperer if he’s getting paid that much. Maybe he’s in the moonshine business I mused.

Since it was only a few blocks away, walking to dinner just seemed practical and a good opportunity to snap some photos. The sound of the moving water and birds singing helped with decompressing after such a long flight. As an Irish photographer and tour guide I should be used to making small talk, but I’ve felt slightly on edge since arriving. I reasoned I’m probably just exhausted.

I climbed the front steps and noticed a wreath on the door. “Happy Fall, y’all.” Chuckling to myself I knocked on the door. A short man with blonde hair and glasses greeted me. “Conor! It’s so nice to finally meet you. Please come in.”

“Matt?” I asked.

“That’s me,” he smiled warmly. Matt was not the burly lumberjack I had envisioned. He was average build and in his early thirties just like me. I stepped inside and was immediately delighted by the smell of cinnamon and honey. The huge stone fireplace served as the centerpiece for the living room, and strong thick wooden beams spanned the ceiling. Plaid flannel throws were draped over the couches.

There was a wall of windows letting the sunshine and autumnal colors in. The kitchen was to the left and a huge wooden table to the right. “So the new department chair doesn’t even read his emails. It’s absolutely absurd.” A man who looked similar to Matt only with brown hair was sipping on a huge glass of sangria and animatedly shaking his head. He was talking to a dark haired woman who was pulling trays out of the oven.

Matt took my coat. “That’s my brother Jared. He’s a history professor at the University of Tennessee. And this is our friend Eliza. She owns a bakery downtown, but she’s also a very vocal animal rights advocate. She is the one who insisted we fence in the side of your yard, so your dog could have a place to roam free.”

“How many cabins do you own?” I questioned.

“My father’s family purchased the land a long time ago when prices weren’t as astronomical. We have five properties, all nearby.” Matt responded.

“Our family is well-off.” Jared said as he leaned against the kitchen island. Smirking as he devoured me with his eyes, he took a sip of his drink.

I mentally noted that Matt was most definitely the more subtle brother.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I bought you a small gift.” Eliza beamed as she handed me an ice cold bottle of water and a blue gift bag with delicately placed tissue paper. I curiously peeked inside to see dog treats, a dog toy, a bear horn, and bear mace. There was also a welcome greeting with a bakery rewards card tucked inside. “Free treats on me for as long as you’re here.”

[plungermusic]

“I’m goin’ where the climate suits my clothes …”

In my minds eye Maverick Festival is always bathed in scorching sunshine, and sadly I’d dressed accordingly… as it turned out, this year epitomised the classic “Best pack a brolly and a jumper… and your sun screen too” British summer. Thankfully Maverick #16 had as wide a range of stormy, breezy, sunny and hot music on offer too.

Opening The Barn stage, and definitely on the bright and breezy side, was Jon Langford’s acoustic-led barroom Americana-with-a-splash-of-Irish (yes, we know he’s Welsh!) like the boisterous fiddle-and-piano-propelled Walking On Hell’s Roof Looking At The Flowers. He certainly brought plenty of vigour to get the show rolling, but for our tastes there was maybe too much of that particularly British undercurrent of tongue in cheek, knowing ironic delivery as exemplified by a very Squeeze-like Slightly South Of The Border.

Down at The Moonshine though, Chris Murphy [below] was in deadly earnest! With an appropriately Mephistophelean look, a somewhat gravelly vocal and solo fiddle (played in a variety of ways) enhanced with loops and pedals, he mixed traditional celtic and Appalachian music with ambient and heaver elements to great effect: from Early Grave’s backwoods hoedown stomp to the highlands-threnody-meets-badlands-trainride-soundtrack of Into The Past. A particular favourite was Halfway Around The World: epic in scope, ranging from sweeping ambient soundscape to full-on ceilidh fiddle lines, harmonised and doubled-up that raised the hairs on the backs of our Scots-expat necks!

Heading back toward The Barn we caught a brief snatch of A Different Thread’s Peacock stage set: some gentle Greenwich Village coffee shop folky Americana with delicate harmonies sung into a single mic (Old Time stylee), with splashes of Dylany harmonica, upright bass (and an upright drummer!) and even a hint of N’awlins-y Dr Johnishness in a whimsical whistling song.

Michael James Wheeler was just finishing up as we got to The Barn, looking and sounding the epitome of the clean-cut all-American country star, his Don Mcleanesque super-clear delivery with a hint of quavering vulnerability backed by big, chiming guitar chords.

One of the big draws this year for Plunger were Lonehollow [below], whose first ever appearance (of three over the weekend) was at The Barn. Rylie Bourne and Damon Atkins style themselves “a little bit country, a little bit rock’n’roll” respectively, and there was plenty of the latter in Damon’s gutsy vocal lead on Angel Wings and and a boogieing I Thought It’d Be Me, and of the former in Rylie’s aching Mary Ann with heartbreaking harmonies and the wistful Simple Town. Some lovely touches too of dark Nicksian menace in Lover and Stones, plus a slinky, funky road song Hard Slowin’ Down. Top notch stuff!

A Plunger favourite from previous Mavericks, Evangeline Gentle [below] brought her stunning hypnotic voice to The Moonshine. Right from the first blissful notes of You And I, a short a cappella with a traditional highland flavour, she had the crowd captivated. The enchantment continued through the  aching nostalgia of So It Goes, the hymn-like Good And Guided, and a languid cover of Simply The Best dedicated to her childhood heroine Tina Turner. Bad Girls a new song, drew on those times growing up in a small provincial town with a group of fellow ‘outcast others’. The closing ecstatic love song Sundays was as warm and abandoned as Sunday morning loving, and a formidable earworm for the rest of the weekend.

Back at The Barn, Tom Russell (storied country royalty with a pedigree including working with Johnny Cash and being the writer of the fantastic Gallo Del Cielo) [below] delivered a solo troubadoury set that drew a large devoted crowd to the barn, often singing along to his numbers like Hair Trigger Heart: it was accomplished enough but for us a little pedestrian and samey so I’m afraid to admit we wandered off…

We whiled away the remainder of the time before The Barn headliners down at The Peacock for much of Pepe Belmonte (another previous Maverick attendee we’ve always enjoyed) and his band’s set, including the louche Band-meets-McGuinness Flint lope of The Waterline with harmonica, mandolin and lovely piano accents; the Grateful Deadish boogie of (what we think was  called) The Bailiff Song, and more Dylany/Band vibes in the excellent Open Water.

By this time night (and a rather chill rain) had fallen, but the storming performance of Norfolk’s The Vagaband [above] raised the temperature and the roof with a spicy gumbo of southern roots, cowboy country, blues and more. Moody Western vibes came in Something Wicked This Way Comes with twangsome bottom-end guitar lines, great Hammond organ and some devilish fiddle, and in the rattling two-step of Not My Day To Die with its saloon piano and mandolin. Beautiful World was an easy-going, strummy country amble, while the drawled Black-Eyed Sally built slowly to a rumbustious country rocker. A high level of musicianship was evident throughout, but particularly in the slightly more out of leftfield tracks: White Noise, written in (and about) lockdown, had a sophisticated reggaeish slink to it, featuring classy electric piano, and a soully middle eight; while Wheels was a Madchester shuffle with more meaty Hammond and a storming fuzzy wah solo from Mark Howes; even the final crowd-pleasing stomp of Gabrielle was leavened by stylish fiddle and cymbal rich drums, peaking in a neat switch into Miss You-style discotastic funk. 

A very classy and steamy end to what had been a chilly evening, warming the cockles and raising the spirits ready for round two on Saturday.

[bearballing]

End of the year Asks exept they’re not asks and done like a livejournal/myspace answer thing

1) Song of the year? Rare Ould Mountain Dew - The Irish Rovers i actually discovered in on xmas eve last year, rare old mountain dew was mentioned in Fairytale of New York so I decided to look it up and this was the first version i found and then i fell down a rabbit hole of traditional irish music. lol. anyway this is still the best recorded version of mountain dew there is

runner up is Hell’s Comin’ With Me - Poor Man’s Poison it just so happened to be the perfect song for saints row 2022 AND for thaddeus. whomst i played as

notable mention is any version ever of The Rattlin Bog/Bog Down In The Valley-o. i found a youtube version of some irish wedding where the guests were drunkenly singing it at like 3am and even that slapped

2) Album of the year?

Not released in 2022 - The Irish Rovers 50 Years

Released in 2022 - Bronco, Orville Peck. and i had apparently forgotten to put the album on my phone until THE OTHER DAY???

3) Favorite musical artist / group you started listening to this year?

The Irish Rovers. Other notables are The Dubliners, Flogging Molly, Dropkick Murphys, Strugill Simpson, The Protomen

4) Movie of the year?

Nope. like enoguh for me to Physically own it when it came out on bluray.

5) TV show of the year?

we watched Parasyte and Ghost In The Shell, first time I saw both of them and i love when shows make me like obsess over the lore lmao.

OH AND UH THE UK COMING /SECOND/ IN EUROVISION.

6) Episode of tv or webisode that defined the year for you?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯  i dont think there was a specific episode of anything.

7) Favorite actor of the year?

jim byrnes, every time we find out something about him it makes our heads explode lol. we still have to actually watch half the stuff he’s been in

8) Game of the year?

joint Saints Row and Pokemon Legends Arceus. 95% of the complaints about saints row are stupid i loved it. i still want to try to 100% it (I’M CLOSE) at some point

9) Best month for you this year?

january/february maybe

10) Something that made you cry this year?

hurricane ian. also the death of 2 cats

11) Something you want to do again next year?

go to maine lol. we May be able to

12) Talk about a new friend you made this year

well i gained several mutuals on here.....

13) How was your birthday this year?

it was nice!!! i got to do shit that i wanted and just chill. and i’m finally not in my 20s anymore

14) Favorite book you read this year?

i don’t think i read anything new, only re-read things

15) What’s a bad habit you picked up this year?

fuck i dunno. procrastinating on vacuuming the house.

16) Post a picture from the beginning of the year

17) Post a picture from the end of the year

18) A memorable meal this year?

we had dinner at belle’s castle at disney world. IN THE WEST WING.

19) What’re you excited about for next year?

visiting my family in the uk. which i’m also nervous about ngl

20) What’s something you learned this year?

that gamefreak can truly get away with anything regardless of quality

21) What’s something new about your place of residence (room, home, or general location) now vs the start of the year?

WE OWN A HOUSE WE OWN A HOUSE WE OWN A HOUSE WE OWN A HOUSE

22) Favorite place you visited this year?

didney wurl trip was gr9, really liked getting to go to new england again even though the circumstances sucked.

23) If you could send a message to yourself back on the first day of the year, what would it be?

house happens on the 31st don’t worry about it

24) Did you keep any New Year’s Resolutions?

got a house lol

25) Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one

no new ones but this was definitely the year of our lord Thaddeus2022. i played as him in saints row And in pokemon violet and accidentally created so much new lore for him. boxy also accidentally dreamed up yet another AU where he is the main character too lmao

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Thanks for the tag! Let’s see…

1) Are you named after anyone?

No I am not.

2) When was the last time you cried?

November 9th, almost two weeks ago. I had to put my cat down because she was really sick.

3) Do you have any kids?

Do immature siblings count? Because it feels like it sometimes. But no, not really.

4) What sports do you play/have you played?

Outside of gym class, I did tap dancing and Irish step dancing when I was really little, and indoor rock climbing when I was in middle school/early high school. But I’ve never been super athletic.

5) Do you use sarcasm?

Constantly. My voice just sounds like that now.

6) What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Uhhh… honestly I don’t know? Their voices probably? Or maybe their hair since that’s mostly how I recognize people. I’m bad with faces.

7) What’s your eye color?

Blue. To an annoying degree.

8) Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings I guess? I typically find scary movies boring because my brain simply will not acknowledge pictures on a screen as genuinely scary and once you take out the scariness a lot scary movies are just badly written.

9) Any talents?

I have perfect pitch but it’s useless to me because I never cared enough to learn the musical notes lol. Painting nails is a talent of mine, and I enjoy it, although I don’t do it often. I’ve been told I have a talent for poetry even though I almost never write it myself.

I actually have quite a few talents and I make use of almost none of them. They’re my talents to waste though so anyone who’s ever told me I should sing professionally can fuck off.

10) Where were you born?

On an Alaskan island in the US. My mom actually had to be flown there on the mail plane because I was facing the wrong way and she couldn’t get a c-section at the local clinic.

11) What are your hobbies?

Primarily fic writing, occasionally calligraphy, nail art, board games, and I play dnd. Also watching movies and shows with my family.

12) Do you have any pets?

Well not anymore (see question 2). I had a cat until recently, and my roommates still have pets.

13) How tall are you?

About yea high (5’3”-ish or 160cm)

14) Favorite subject in school?

English and theatre, but neither made it worth it to go to school because school was hell to me.

15) Dream job?

I do not dream of employment.

Actually, though, ever since high school I’ve wanted to be a production assistant, like on a movie set. Unfortunately, due to factors beyond my control (my various physical and mental disabilities) and the fact that it’s not viable as a long-term career because it’s considered a stepping stone in the industry to actual production jobs, it’s probably never gonna happen. : /

Tags (I’m not gonna get to fifteen): @tsunamibo @talesoferyngalen @weloveagayboi @butterflyslinky @astravis @ uh… no I’m out already. It’s 3am I can’t think of anyone else. If you wanna do it I tag you.

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

The rules are: Answer the 15 questions and tag 15 of your mutuals.

ty @trvbblemaker for the tag :D

Are you named after anyone?

not that i know of

2. When was the last time you cried?

like last week after the orthodontist lmao

3. Do you have kids?

i have plants

4. What sports do you play/have played?

i did gymnastics and dance now i do nothing~

5. Do you use sarcasm?

it's somewhat of a coping mechanism

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

how they dress/their hair

7. What's your eye color?

hell if i know

8. Scary movies or Happy endings

happy endings :]

9. Any talents?

i'm rlly good at overthinking and ignoring problems (like genuinely tho ig i'm good at art)

10. Where were you born?

america 🇺🇸 (i hate it here)

11. What are your hobbies?

crocheting, watching shows, drawing

12. Do you have any pets?

cat named otis <3

13. How tall are you?

i think technically 5'4 1/2"

14. Favorite subject in school

art

15. Dream Job?

something i don't hate hopefully in an art field

no pressure tags: @newtness532 @lirdgorl @rainysaturdayafternoon @justkeepwalkingnothinghere @snek-amiga @deusetco @crayonssmellgood @arshemelsoe @lizvi @bbreaddog @noworneverphantom + open tag

[leqclerc]

oh no don't get me wrong i do love a good slow song, but idk there are just too many of them for me this year😅

Portugal is defo in the top five for me too though!! I really like how it builds up and she has a really nice voice!!

Also i literally cannot believe that Finland made it?!?!?! like what. i was so shocked when they announced them😅

Omg i liked Italy 2020 better than almost any entry this year. The semis was my first time hearing it and i was so captived by it and yeah the crowd was just absolutely incredible with this one😭

Im kinda uncertain about Brividi ngl. like sometimes im like omg this is the best and then when i hear it again and im like meh. But I always thought Mahmood was robbed when he didn't win with Soldi so definitely gonna cheer for him and Blanco!!

omg you're so right! Cyprus was giving me major The Birth of Venus (the painting) vibes and yeah i can totally see the Secret Combination vibes too!!

and omg spaceman and number two????😶 that song wouldn't even be in my top ten if i had to make a list lol like it really is such a generic song... a part of me is always like hope England gets zero again cause that would be kinda funny. like i felt really bad for artists last year but getting literally no points is kinda funny😅

Omg hello again 👀

That was me with Australia in semi final 2 🙈 Didn't like it tbh. Switzerland (Idk if this is an unpopular opinion because it was a ballad but I much preferred Tout l'Univers last year) and Armenia are also pretty meh for me this year (Armenia sounds like a female spin on Mumford & Sons or something). Finland's just okay for me. Like, the comparisons to It (the horror movie) are pretty funny jsjdf But it didn't blow me away or anything 🤔

Yesssss, right? Diodato my beloved <3

Omg I feel you with Brividi though... when I first listened to it after they won Sanremo I didn't like it... then I started listening to it more in the build up to the ESC and started warming to it. So it's definitely a song I've flip-flopped on as well ajsdj I still think Soldi > Brividi but eh. Though - and I feel like this is ~controversial but - I am an Arcade truther 🙈😭 It got overplayed to hell since then but I did like it.

Right??? Justice for Cyprus tbh 😭

THIS!! Like it's good but it's also so generic mainstream radio-ish that I was honestly shocked to see it rated so highly and predicted to podium. Especially considering UK's string of low-point finishes over the last few years...🤭 Apparently the guy became like a TikTok sensation after singing cover songs in lockdown or something? Can't believe we're living in an era where there's a TikTok to ESC pipeline but I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later 😭 Anyway it's a decent entry, better than some of the other stuff they've competed with recently, but 2nd place? Idk :/

Also, someone else pointed this out to me, but there's a lot of English-language songs in the running this year. Which I guess is an interesting ~trend shift considering all top 3 songs last year were non-English.

I generally tend to at least kind of like the winning song in the end, even if it wasn't my favourite. I think the only exception in recent years is Portugal in 2017. I literally never listened to that song again once the final was over which is rare for me jsdfj 🙈

I think countries like Ukraine and Italy have shined the most when they lean into their own culture and language. Like, Ukraine's English-language entries (2018, 2019) have been very meh pop mainstream BUT whenever they send something more folksy with actual Ukrainian roots they tend to shine - Jamala in 2016, GO_A last year. I think all of Italy's entries for almost a decade have been in Italian and good for them!!!! (2016's entry was like 90% in Italian and I really loved that song too). Italy's entries in general have been consistently so high-quality recently and I'm glad it finally paid dividends last year!!

[tommyspeakycap]

Genuinely think your one of the best peaky blinders writers out there. Do you think you could write something about little toddler Shelby and Tommy. Maybe little Shelby is out in the rain jumping in puddles? Love your work!!!

Thank you!! That’s so kind of you x

Puddles

Polly shakes her head in something of dismay as she holds a cup of tea snugly in her hands, keeping them warm against the winter chill that whips in the open window in front of her. “Mind your sister, Finn!” She calls out it, waiting until she got a “Yes auntie Pol!” yelled back to her from the 11 year old who had become somewhat accustomed to keeping a watchful eye over his only younger sibling. His answer seemed satisfaction enough for his aunt to nod her head and pull that window closed to maintain some semblance of heat in the house, but not enough for her to move away from said window to keep her own eye on the youngest Shelby sibling.

She stands cautionary. She knows better than to trust that Finn will do much to prevent his very clumsy five year old little sister from wandering off and getting herself hurt. (y/n) is notoriously like Thomas is all sorts of ways. She’s always getting into things she shouldn’t, hearing things she shouldn’t, seeing things she shouldn’t. She seems to sit back and observe a lot of things. They’re trying to grow her out of it.

Polly attributes it to the majority of her life being spent in a country torn by war. She was only nearly two when her brothers left, so naturally she didn’t understand much of what was going on. Everything was up in the air and now the war was over, it seemed l to the youngster that a war’s not just over when the fighting ends. It has also become clear that Tommy is her favourite sibling, so her similarities to him can often be attributed to her spending the most time with that brother.

Alas, in all her likeness to Tommy, she is much softer in manner than he is himself. Little (y/n) is like Tommy was when he was her age, incredibly inquisitive. Except softer. She chatters away to herself as she does things and though it takes her time to warm up to people, once she starts talking it’s hard to get her to stop for anything. She’s so kind and so very loving too, she laughs just like Tommy once did and it makes Polly’s heart happy deep down when that little girl falls asleep each night with a sweet little smile.

“Alright Pol?” Tommy greets as he comes through the back of the house from the betting shop to see his aunt standing at the window still. Polly nods, “Just watching to see if that bloody brother of yours is watching your sister like i told him to not five minutes ago.” She sighs as she takes another sip of her tea. Sure enough, Finn had not noticed his younger sister wandering off up the street subtly without even noticing in herself that she was getting further and further from the relative safety in proximity of her home and the brother who was supposed to be watching her. It seemed as though the puddles that filled certain uneven surfaces of the Watery Lane streets were more interesting, and finding more deep ones had stolen her full attention away from her surroundings. Tommy stands next to his aunt, leaning over slightly to spot his youngest sister slowly going further and further away than she should.

“Bloody hell,” Polly curses, sitting her tea down on the table beside her and reaching her hand to the handle of the window, “Don’t bother Pol,” Tommy interrupts her from opening the window fully and yelling for Finn to run and bring you back. Polly looks at him like he’s grown a second head, wondering if he’s completely lost his mind. He would usually have been the one giving Finn a stern word about making sure his sister was safe at all times. He just offered her a smile and says “I’ll get her.” simply, brushing past and grabbing his coat on the way. Polly furrows her eyebrows and watches as Tommy does a slight jog up the street until he nears (y/n) and then stops by her.

Her heart is suddenly warmed when the pair don’t turn back around to head home, but Tommy extends his hand to the little girl and she takes it gleefully to lead him on to find as many more puddles as they could before it got too rainy, cold and dark. He’s been so busy lately it had been a while since she had seen Tommy just be the brother of the little girl he loved so much.

Tommy relishes the feeling of his sisters little hand in his as they walk towards their uncles scrap yard, jumping in puddles along the way. She soaks the bottom of his trousers in dirty puddle water, but his heart sings with her giggles. “Tommy look!” She squeals, jumping in excitement as she spots a huge one near the window of the Garrison. She’s off a few feet before he can do anything other than open his mouth to speak. “Come on Tom!” She calls to him, “you’re so slow!” The tease draws laughter from him that only she can cause. He stops only for a moment in some form of mock shock. “Me?” He gasps, “Slow? Alright then miss speedy pants, wait there and i’ll race you.”

(y/n) does just that, waiting excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet for Tommy to reach her, both standing still a good few meters away from the puddle near the pub. The streets are pretty empty given the weather conditions and Tommy’s reputation had gone out the window of his thoughts long ago. “Okay then,” (y/n) breathes, “3...2...1!”

The pair take off at a run, the little girl stealing the lead immediately as Tommy runs slower than he probably ever has to allow the five year old to scuttle ahead faster than him. She giggles, elated as she knows she’s in front of her brother. “‘M gonna beat you Tom!” She puffs out, little boots splashing through the barren street as he laughs from behind her. “Not if i catch you first!” He calls back, speeding up his run as he heard the little girl screech in shock at the sound of him getting closer. He can see her putting her all into running from him, looking behind her over and over, laughing only when she realises he’s far enough behind her or screaming again if he’s getting close.

Inside the Garrison, Grace hears a child’s scream and what sounds very much like Tommy Shelby shouting that he’ll get her. It makes her immediately peer out the window just in time to see what most people in Small Health never expect from the gangster.

He runs up behind his little sister quickly, scooping her into his arms with complete ease as she squirms, squeals and giggles loudly. “Faster than me ey?” He snarls playfully, fingers digging softly into her sides to tickle hysterical laughter out of the girl. “No Tommy! Never!” She shrieks, knowing well enough agreeing with her brother was enough to stop his tickles and it clearly is as he places her gently back down on her feet, a sheepish grin overtaking her little features as she looks up at him in adoration. It was widely clear how much she loved her big brother.

Grace moves to the doorstep of the pub, arms crossed over her chest to keep her warm against the chill. “Having fun, Thomas?”

He whips around at the sound of her voice, subconsciously letting go of his sisters hand in surprise, almost as if he was always ready to put up a fight and defend her with everything he had within a moments notice just as reflex. She knows better than to assume he wouldn’t cut anyone who came near that little girl. “Suppose so,” he shrugs when he realises it’s just the bartender he had become rather intrigued by. “Thought i would-“

The sound of loud, proud giggling and the feeling of water hitting the backs of his trousers immediately makes him whip around again, spotting his small little sister grinning up at him like a cheshire cat and his very own devilish glint in her little blue eyes as she stands in the middle of the puddle after having splashed water up at him. “Oh you little buggar. I’ll get you for that.” He threatens, taking a moment to get over his shock as (y/n) laughs at him again but is joined this time by the light giggle of the Irish bartender. That little girl only widens her cheeky grin, her innocence still leaking through her cheeky nature as she looks behind her, knowing her brother would have to run through the huge puddle to get her.

“Only if you catch me first.”

And just like that, the hardened Birmingham gangster bids a quick goodbye to his bartender and is off running through puddles with a five year old little girl who very coincidentally melts his heart of stone down to a puddle each and every single day.

[hyperfixation-stations]

It’s that time of the year folks where I give my ramblings and general thoughts, feelings and ramblings on the Tony Awards. For those of you who are new to this account or follow me for other reasons, this used to be a musical fan page and even though I’ve evolved and post other things we always return to our roots during Tony Season.

Thoughts:

I love Ariana Debose as the host. I thought she was a natural and did the best work I’ve seen since the 2013 Tony’s where Neil Patric Harris hosted. I think that they should continue to have “Broadway people” host because there is such more love and enthusiasm for hosts that have really strong ties to the business. Hell you could run Ariana Debose back for the next five years and I’d probably be thrilled.

I’m always sad that they moved all of the technical awards to the broadcast prior to the awards actually starting. I was a theater tech throughout high school and it holds a special place in my heart and I miss seeing at least some of the categories live. As for the actual winners, I generally agreed with all of them. I really enjoy Six so I was happy to see them get recognized for score and costumes.

The music man performance was lackluster and I’m glad that it didn’t win any awards. It just felt so odd because it’s a huge ensemble show with historically great dancing but it just felt kinda boring and way longer then it was. Now I do love to see a good tap number, especially on the Tonys, but I felt like they could’ve done more, especially as the opening performance.

Now I haven’t seen any of the nominated shows (other then a six bootleg), so some of my thoughts on things like the acting categories are just going to be based off things I’ve read/heard. For the best supporting actor and actress in a play I don’t have super strong feelings. I wish L Morgan Lee had won for her role in A Strange Loop, but also Patti Lupone in company has received rave reviews the entire run of the show so I’m not entirely upset with the outcome. As for featured actor I was really pulling for either of the guys from Paradise Square, but like with Patti Lupone Matt Doyle has received rave reviews for his performance and I haven’t seen the show so I can’t say it was “undeserved”

MJs performance was a little weird for me at first because I had literally no idea what the show was about, but I ended up really enjoying it. Myles Frost as Michael Jackson was electric and his dancing was next level. I also thought the ensemble was really strong and it was a really good performance.

I was a little surprised that Company won Best Direction if a musical, I really thought it would go to one of the original new musicals (specifically A Strange Loop). But I do enjoy seeing women directors win and get recognized for their work.

I think Mr. Saturday Night was the next performance and I was a fun little performance. It highlighted the best of the show with having Shoshana Bean sing and Billy Crystal do stand up. Idk if I’d personally ever seen the show, but I wouldn’t be shocked if ticket sales were boosted during that segment.

I know I mentioned this before, but I’m going to talk about it again, Ariana Debose really was a great host. And I think that the is was really shown in the in between when she had her little bits, skits and monologues to kill time. It’s so easy for those moments to become filler or seem so fake, but she kept it really and entertaining and I really just love her.

A Girl From North Country performed. I thought it was good, I like Bob Dylan’s music but I don’t shit about the show. It felt like it needed a fiddle or something (though maybe that’s the Irish in me coming out). It was definitely the weakest performance of the night for me, and it wasn’t even bad just kind of boring

Sondheim’s tribute was really well done. It was nice to Bernadette Peters perform, especially given how many of his shows he was in (which is why I’m sure she was asked to perform in the first place). I know some people wished they had done a different song rather then Children Will Listen, I’m not shocked that’s what they went with and I thought it was fitting (especially given the context of the song within Into the Woods ).

It was at this point in the night that I started to get a little nervous for A Strange Loop because they hadn’t really won anything yet and I was worried that they weren’t going to get recognized (though what would’ve won over them, idk). But then they won Best Book and all is well in the world. I was so happy that they won and it.

Then a Strange Loop performed and I just about died. Now I’ll admit I was not as familiar with this show (or really any of the shows) coming into this season, so I was seeing a lot of things for the very first time. And I had heard such great things about the show and their performance was probably the one I was most excited for. And they did not disappoint! I really love that they got to perform Intermission/Today and got to call themselves a big black queer ass show (or something along those lines, someone please correct me if I’m wrong I’m doing this entire thing from memory while commuting). This is a show that I was worried wouldn’t get love because the Tonys are glorified marketing ploy and I thought they’d go the safe route with one of the more “broad appealing shows) and I’m so glad they didn’t. It’s so important to have this kind of representation because it will continue to inspire new generations to become performers or write shows and I know that some kid out in the middle of no-where saw that performance and feel in love with musical theater.

Now that my gushing about a Strange Loop is over (for a bit) we’ll talk about one of the weirder parts of the night and that was the Spring Awakening performance. It was good, but the entire time I wanted to know why they were performing, it just felt like time that could’ve been dedicated to an additional category or allowed for winners to speak longer. Idk I could’ve lived without it.

Then Company won best revival and that was pretty much expected. I was really just glad to see that Music Man didn’t win (god I hate that show). Though I do wish Caroline or Change had been recognized a little bit more. I thought it was a great show from what I’d see/heard and I wish it had been celebrated a bit more.

Paradise Square performed and I just about lost my shit. That was probably my most anticipated musical coming into the season and the highest on my list of shows that want to see and that performance really solidified. I loved the bit of Paradjse Square they did to highlight the ensemble and joaquina kalukango started let it burn and I just about starter convulsing on my floor. I would pay obscene amounts of money to see that show

Best Actor and Actress in a musical felt like the only other categories with high stakes other then best musical. And it was with good merit both of those categories were stacked with talented performers. Best Actor in a musical I was surprised went Myles Frost, simply because I thought it’d go to Jacquel Spivey for A Strange Loop. But after seeing his performance I’m not shocked and I thought it was a well deserved, also I can’t believe his only 22! As for best actress if the award didn’t go to joaquina kalukango, I would’ve burned something down. She should’ve won the award based on the Tony performance alone. I was also really glad to see two POC performers sweep the best acting category, even though the show and awards could’ve been more diverse this is an important step into getting more representation (at least I hope)

Finally we got to the final performance of the night from Six the musical. I always feel a little bit bad for whoever gets stuck in this time slot because everyone just wants to finish the ceremony at that point I imagine and a part of me wondered if they were there in an attempt to hype the crowd back up and infuse some energy back into the show. But Six is a show I really enjoy and i will be rewatching their performance for days to come. This cast has been through so much shit since they beginning of their run in Chicago from injuries to Covid happening on their opening night, so I was glad to see them finally make it and get recognized. I also loved the shout out of Mallory Maedek and how she was the dance captain and got inserted into the number like that morning.

Then finally it was time for the big award of the night best musical. I was a little nervous for this category I’m not going to lie. I though A Strange Loop was the front runner but given the night at that point it was hard to tell. The only other shows that I thought had the potential in terms of quality and marketing I’d seen were Six and Paradise Square which are also diverse creative teams and storylines but A Strange Loop really deserved it and luckily they won! This was such a deserved win for that cast and creative teams. It has one of the best concepts I’ve seen in years and they story they are telling is vitally important.

Overall I thought it was a solid night and they honored the best of the season (which is something I can’t always say coming out of the awards). I like that the awards were spread around to a collection of different shows and the awards they were winning made sense, at least to me. This season really made me excited about the future of musical theater in a way I hadn’t been in a few years. We had a lot of original material from diverse creative teams and the best shows were being honored and not the ones they thought would see the most tickets.

If you’ve made it this far through my ramblings, then congratulations you are just as much a nerd as I am and thank you for making your way and attempting to decipher my loosely connected thoughts. If you disagree with any of my takes or what to discuss other things feel free to message me or comment. I love talking about theater so I could really go at this for hours.