#irish tenor

[chaplinfortheages]

Charlie Chaplin on set of “The Rink”, 1916. With him, famed Irish Tenor John McCormack (large gentleman to his right).

[countesspetofi]

MST3K Karaoke: Catalina Caper - Creepy Girl

@balladofeasyrider ‘s Tommy Kirk posts have got this song stuck in my head.

[thym3y]

miku playing irish tenor banjo!!

[iamthemaestro]

wow it's amazing to listen back to recordings and realize how much my singing voice has changed over the years? like no voice training or hormones or anything, the range is still the same but it's Different now. amazing what two years of emulating colin meloy will do for you

[electrofolk]

went to see the high kings stoned tonight lads more like HIGH kings am I right????

[phoradendron]

.

[michaeldalytenor]

Irish Tenor Music

Michael Daly is renowned for his enchanting renditions of Irish tenor songs, capturing the essence of Ireland's musical heritage with his soulful voice. His repertoire spans traditional Irish ballads, folk tunes, and poignant melodies, each delivered with emotive depth and stirring passion. Daly's performances transport listeners to the verdant landscapes and rich cultural tapestry of Ireland, evoking nostalgia and stirring the heart. With his mastery of the Irish tenor style, Daly has become a beloved figure in the realm of Celtic music, captivating audiences worldwide with his timeless interpretations and heartfelt performances.

[michael-massa-micon]

The Irish Tenors - April 2024 The Irish Tenors and Celtic Ladies was a good show with typical Irish singing and dancing. But I am posting this image because it is a very good image. In this particular scene, the colors, textures, positioning of the players, the angle of the lights, was all set up to bring the audience into the song and to bring the singers out into the audience. I just happened to capture that perfect composition. MWM

[merelygifted]

Tom Waits for no man.

Mom always called him The Irish Anti-Tenor

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Percussion Instruments

The percussion family of musical instruments - consists of membranophones and idiophones.

Membranophones - (or drums) are instruments that make sound when a player strikes a membrane that is tightly stretched over a frame.

Idiophones - instruments that produce sound when the entire instrument vibrates in response to being struck.

Percussionists play their instruments with their hands or with beaters, a collective term describing drumsticks, mallets, rods, or wire brushes.

Types of Membranophone Percussion Instruments

Nearly every genre of music features some form of drumming, and there are innumerable types of drums across world cultures, including:

Congas: Congas are tall, deeply-pitched hand drums that stand on the floor or on study chrome hardware.

Bongos: Bongos are tall hand drums that are smaller than congas and produce a higher pitch.

Timbales: Timbales are small metal-frame drums that are mounted on a stand and played with beaters. A timbale player usually has two drums, plus cowbell and perhaps a woodblock, as part of their kit.

Mridangam: Thought to be the oldest type of drum still in use, the mridangam has two drum faces—a left face and a right face. Traditional mridangam players apply a mixture of flour and water to the left face to lower its tone when playing.

Tabla: The tabla is the most common percussion instrument in traditional Indian music, typically paired with a sitar. Tablas consist of two drums—a "male drum" that produces a bass tone and a "female drum" that produces a tenor tone.

Djembe: A djembe is a goblet-shaped African drum that a player holds between their knees and plays with their hands.

Talking drum: A talking drum is an hourglass-shaped drum with drum heads on either end. Talking drums get their name from the notion that they can mimic sounds of human speech.

Ngoma: A ngoma is a barrel-shaped African drum that sits on the floor. The drummer strikes it with large wood beaters.

Orchestral bass drum: Similar in origin to the bass drum found in a standard drum set, but much larger in diameter, the classical bass drum hangs from a frame. The percussionist strikes it with handheld mallets.

Tenor drum: Higher-pitched than a bass drum but lower pitched than a snare drum, a tenor drum is round and of medium depth. The drummer plays it with a mallet or a drumstick.

Side drum: The term "side drum" is used in classical music to describe a snare drum, usually with its snare disengaged. Side drums feature prominently in most contemporary classical music, whether or not they're part of a standard drum set.

Bodhran: A bodhran is a traditional Irish drum that sometimes finds its way into orchestral music, particularly when composers hail from the British or Irish isles. A bodhran resembles a tambourine without any jingles. The player strikes it with a small beater. Most bodhrans still are made with real goat skins.

Timpani: Also known as kettle drums, timpani sets consist of massive drums that stand on the floor in front of the player, who strikes them with felted mallets. Timpani pitches can be adjusted using a foot pedal, which loosens and tightens the drum head.

Kick drum: Also known as a bass drum, a kick drum is a large, deep-sounding drum that sits on the floor and is played with a foot pedal.

Snare drum: A bright, trebly drum that features metal snare wires running beneath its lower drum head. Typically, a drummer plays the snare with their non-dominant hand. Larger, body-mounted snare drums are a mainstay of marching band music.

Floor tom: A deep, low-pitched tom-tom drum that stands on legs near the drummer's dominant hand.

Rack toms (sometimes called a hi tom and a low tom): This pair of tom-tom drums hangs above the kick drum. They produce a higher-pitched sound than the floor tom.

Tambourine: Tracing back to the Middle East, a tambourine can be part of a drum set, either mounted as a standalone instrument or placed atop a hi-hat. A tambourine can have a drum head or it can exclusively produce sound via its zils (or jingles), which are metal discs mounted around the tambourine frame. Some players opt for a pandeiro, which is a close relative of the traditional tambourine.

Surdo: An unpitched Brazilian variant on the bass drum, played with handheld beaters.

Types of Idiophone Percussion Instruments

Idiophones produce sound when a percussionist strikes them, causing the entire instrument to vibrate. There are many enduring idiophones throughout the world of music, including:

Cymbals: Most cymbals are curved brass discs appearing in a wide array of sizes. Drum kit cymbals include a hi-hat, ride cymbal, crash cymbal, and splash cymbal, each mounted on a cymbal stand and played with beaters. Orchestral and marching band crash cymbals appear in handheld pairs; they produce sound when a player slides one cymbal past the other. Finger cymbals, as their name implies, are small enough to be worn on the player's fingers.

Crotales: Also known as antique cymbals, crotales are made up of a collection of small pitched cymbals and may be found in everything from classical music to 1970s progressive rock.

Claves: Wooden sticks that click together to produce an unpitched sound. They are a mainstay of salsa music.

Temple blocks: A series of pitched woodblocks popular in classical ensembles.

Agogo: An unpitched metal bell (or pair of bells) often featured in samba music.

Ganzá: An unpitched metal rattle developed in Brazil and popular in Brazilian samba.

Headless tambourine: This instrument is a tambourine without a membrane. It produces sound via the vibration of the frame and jingles.

Slit drum: Also known as a log drum, the slit drum is not a membranophone despite its name. Rather, a slit drum is an idiophone made from a hollowed log.

Udu: An untuned idiophone resembling a hollow jug.

Cajón: Originating in Peru, a cajón (or cajón de rumba) is a hollow wooden box that usually features internal snares on one side. A player sits on the cajón and strikes it with their hands (and occasionally beaters).

Gong: A suspended metal disc found in both Western classical and Eastern traditional music. Orchestras particularly favor a type of gong known as a tam-tam.

Maracas: Originating in Venezuela but popular throughout Latin American music, maracas are wooden shakers with handles.

Castanets: Castanets are handheld wood idiophones that come in pairs. They make a clicking sound when the player snaps two of them together.

Güiro: An idiophone made from a dried gourd. Typically, a percussionist plays güiro by rubbing wire brushes against it.

Shekere: A dried gourd covered with a netting of beads. Originally from West Africa and popular in Latin American traditions, it produces sound when shaken.

Tubular bells: These are pitched chimes that a player strikes with beaters.

Mbira: Also known as an African thumb piano, a mbira contains individual keys that a player presses and releases, causing them to vibrate.

Cabasa: A type of African shaker made by wrapping metal chains around a wooden cylinder.

Xylophone: A pitched percussion instrument made from wooden bars laid out like a piano keyboard, which the player strikes with felted mallets.

Marimba: A musical instrument much like a xylophone but with a greater range and resonators beneath its wood bars.

Vibraphone: An adaptation of a xylophone, the vibraphone has metal bars and a built-in electric resonator that projects the instrument's sound. A vibraphone is essentially a plugged-in metal marimba.

Glockenspiel: A smaller member of the xylophone and vibraphone family, containing small metal bars that produce a definite pitch with numerous overtones.

Steel drum: An idiophone made from a concave metal drum. The player can attain different pitches by striking different parts of the drum.

Cowbell: A hollow metal idiophone named for a similar device hung around the necks of some domestic cows.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[chaplinfortheages]

Charlie Chaplin on set of “The Rink”, 1916. With him, famed Irish Tenor John McCormack (large gentleman to his right).

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Better Of Two Evils

Summary: After Damian’s flirty nature comes to life, you’re left to deal with its aftermath with no other than the Demon King and his Human vessel.

Pairings: Bálor x F!Reader x Finn

Warnings: +18, smut, slight heresy, mentions of worship, p in v, oral (f receiving), curse words, slight dom x sub.

A/N: This is my birthday gift for the amazing @theworldofotps , she wanted a sequel to Salome so I hope you like it, babe. I wish you nothing but the best in your new journey and I hope it’s filled with all good things one can have in life! I love you so much, thank you for being my friend, and for being one of the most amazing people I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet in my life. You truly deserve the world and I hope you have an amazing day love ya.

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @mjfass , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @ripleyswhore

Of Damian’s flirty nature, you were already aware of, not only because of Finn’s endless warnings but also because you’ve witnessed the Puerto Rican man’s charm over women a handful of times now.

Damian flirts with everyone, literally everyone. No matter the age, gender, or ethnicity, he always found a way to captivate whomever he interacted with. And it was no different with you.

“Wow, mami” Damian whistled when you entered through the club’s back door. “You’re gonna give a man a heart attack”.

Your outfit was less than impressive, since it was a low night at the club you decided for a more casual look: a navy blue velvet tracksuit, along with a pair of black All Stars summed up your outfit for the night.

“Always a charmer, huh?” You chuckled, unaware that Finn was approaching you from behind.

“What can I say?” Damian smirked “A beautiful woman has the power to bring out the best in me”

“And your best is to be an ultimate flirt?” You narrowed your eyes playfully

“When it comes to you, yeah” the amused wide grin on Damian’s face was more than enough to make you giggle.

“You’re a menace, sir”

“Sir?” His eyes widened in surprise, not wasting the opportunity to tease you further. “Mami, if you’re gonna start calling me that then we just might have to go upstairs right now” Damian winked at you with a smirk plastered on his lips. “I’ll even rent the VIP room, just for you”.

Now you have to laugh. A little more than you should’ve, but who could blame you? The guy had great timing and impeccable humor.

“Wow, how could I say no to that” Your nonchalant tone left no room for doubt that you took his teasing in an amicable way, similar to two siblings poking fun at each other, you had no intentions of taking this to a more intimate level, and neither did Damian. It was all lighthearted. Everyone knew that, everyone could see that, except them. To them, this suddenly became a pissing contest, a dispute, a challenge. One they never lost and didn’t intend to lose.

“The shipping of new furniture arrived this morning, Priest”. The doubled voice resonated from your lover’s body, the tenor contrasting with the bass as both voices complimented each other with each word. “Go unpack it…now”.

“Isn’t that Dominik’s j-“

“I said NOW!” The bass voice screamed, settling its dominance. Finn’s eyes began to shift colors. One remained blue as the other turned a fierce shade of orange-red.

“Ok, Boss” Damian set his hands up as a sign of submission. “Chill out”.

Before Damian could even blink, Finn stood in front of him. His face got so close to Damian’s that they almost seemed the same height.

“If you ever dare to tell me to ‘chill out’ again, those will be your last words in this pitiful earth before you become hellhound’s breakfast!” The demon left no room for debate. Bálor learned how to tolerate humans after being in Finn’s body for over 40 years, that didn’t mean he liked them or that he wouldn’t kill one for fun. The only human Bálor seemed to truly like was you, but that could easily change if his pride is on the line.

“Bálor, he was just-“

“Silence!” He growled at you, voice bubbling with hatred, “If you dare to speak one word to defend him, little girl, you’ll know a side of me that you’ll wish you’d never met!” His fiery gaze fixed on you as he pointed to Finn’s room. “Go and wait for us there, and don’t make me repeat myself!”.

Reluctantly, you walked up the stairs, mouthing “I’m sorry” to Damian as you reached the top.

If there was a god, you were praying to him now, silently begging him not to let Bálor hurt Damian just because of a lighthearted teasing.

“He doesn’t listen to anyone’s prayers, why would he listen to yours?” Bálor’s voice rumbled in your ear, quickly making you turn around to face him at the foot of the bed.

“Do you think you’re that special, pet?”

Oh, he was mad.

At first, when you met him, Bálor called you “pet”, it was a deprecating term at the time, filled with disdain. But after a while, you became “little girl” when he was in a good mood, “my pet” when he was annoyed with you, and “pet” when he was mad at you.

“Are you God's precious little thing? That’s why you think He’ll hear you, huh?” When only silence answered him, Bálor growled loudly “Answer me!”

“No-“ Your voice was cut off by the sudden pressure of Finn’s hand amplified by Bálor’s strength around your neck.

“Good. Because HE won’t hear you! You belong to a demon and a human, the only god you should ever pray for is ME! I’m the only one who’ll hear you, and when you do pray, make sure to keep your eyes down on the earth where I am, because I’m not up in the sky, pet. Your help won’t come from up there, so stop searching in the clouds!” His hand abruptly left your neck, causing you to give two steps back due to the lack of force around your throat.

“Kneel”

Your brows furrowed at his statement, trying to understand the reason for that order.

“You were praying, weren’t you? Humans usually do that on their knees, no?! So go on, pet, kneel at your god’s feet and pray”.

“Bálor, please, let me-“

“I.said.kneel.and.pray”

Bálor pushed you down on the floor, making your knees hit the black hardwood floor with a thump. A small cry escaped your lips, your watery eyes looked up to stare at him, who had now taken full control of Finn’s body. His thick veins were black, red irises, canines sharp as razors, hair jet black, and nails tainted black at the edge.

You hoped to every sacred being that your next move wouldn’t anger him even more, but you remember when Finn once told you “Bálor is like an ice cube, cover him with some warmth and you’ll watch him melt”.

“Can I please touch you?” You asked with a meek voice, but he didn’t answer. You took this as a silent green light and pressed your palms against his torso.

“I didn’t mean to enrage you, my lord, I’m deeply sorry”. The correct word to use would be ‘upset’ instead of ‘enrage’, but Bálor didn’t deal with feelings and vulnerability well so you knew how to choose your words wisely by now.

“But trust me when I say that there was no ill intention on my part nor from Damian” You felt his abs harden at the mention of the name, the color of Bálor’s eyes began to dance like the most aggressive fire and your hands soon began to travel up and down his stomach, using touch to soothe his raw emotions.

“You’re the only one for me. You and Finn are the only men I’ll ever want, the only men I’ll ever need. I don’t want anyone else” Your hands began to travel down his abs, reaching his v-line that you traced with your nails. “Only you can satisfy me, only you can drive me insane with just a look”.

Your hands now stopped at his black jeans, one hand began massaging his crotch as the other caressed his lower belly - the most sensitive part of Bálor. “Only you can make me ache for you for days on end, only you know how to make me cum in mere seconds, only you can make me so hungry for your touch that I feel like I’m about to lose my mind if I don’t have you”.

“I don’t like when you respond to the flirtation of other men, pet”

“Damian flirts even with the walls, sir. He flirted with you, countless times” You tried to reason, feeling his cock begin to harden underneath the black jeans.

Bálor let out a small huff as you continued “Am I lying though? You know he did, with both you and Finn. And I always laughed at it because I knew there was no ill intention behind it. In the same way, there was none between him and me. You know that” You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on his clothed erection, “You’re the only one for me, my king”.

“On the bed” Bálor lowly hummed, cupping his hard cock with his palm.

You felt someone pushing you onto the bed from behind, panic covered your features until you saw who it was.

“You’re gonna join us?” Your soft smile pressed against the bare skin of his abs. His hands gathered your hair, softly pulling your head down to rest on the mattress.

His hand pulled the zipper of your jacket down, humming in approval at the sight of your bare breast.

“Came prepared I see” Finn grinned, head leaning down to close his warm mouth around your nipple.

“My good little pet” Bálor spoke from your right, the bed dipped as he knelt on the mattress. His hand pressed your cheeks together, causing your lips to open in a partial pout. “Let’s see how much you can handle it” He chuckled, grabbing you by the hair to quickly turn you around to lay on your stomach.

Your vision was blurred, your voice hoarse from so much screaming and cursing. Two became one, same body, same face, different details. One was sweet and sensual, the other was rough and raw. They were the perfect match, both drove you crazy in their way. The sun and the moon, night and day, dark and light, good and evil, residing within the same man, one born in hell, the other, heaven sent. Either way, you loved the duality, loved the experience, and most importantly, loved them.

“Shit, shit, shit” You whispered in a hurry as Bálor rapidly moved behind you, his cock slipped in and out with such ease that made you wonder how long you could take this.

In the meantime, Finn watched you, his hand lazily stroking his cock beside you in bed, admiring every little frown, every gasp, every moan, every plea. Your eyes instantly closed when Bálor hit your sweet spot, but they instantly reopened at the prickling feeling on your cheek.

“I didn’t say you could stop looking at him!” Bálor stated, landing another burning slap against your cheek, “Don’t you dare close those beautiful eyes, my pet”.

Finn smirked, leaning forward, placing his flattened tongue against the burning skin of your cheek. He gave a few kitten licks until the skin lost its vibrant reddish color, “You taste so good”, he licked again, only changing the route of his tongue.

Finn danced the tip of his tongue across your skin, traveling down your belly, stopping right above your mound. Bálor grinned at the sight, pulling your leg to rest on his shoulder.

“Oh my fucking god” You moaned loudly, feeling the tip of Finn’s tongue circling your clit as Bálor’s cock grew harder inside you. “I’m gonna die, I can’t take it”.

“Of course you can, love” Finn’s muffled voice echoed between your legs.

“Not only you can but you will, my precious pet” Bálor snarled in your ear “Because we won’t be done with you until the sun rises”.

[tendermiasma]

i'm genuinely SUCH a big fan of clover & cloverhoney i hope you know!!! seeing them on my feed is a DELIGHT 🥹💕💕 when i have the funds come in i'll definitely support you on patreon for sure!!

i wanted to ask if you had a voice claim for clover or like, any reference/idea for how his voice sounds? he's become so dear to me the more i learn about him 🥺🍀🌹

have a great day ahead!!

You are a gem, thank you so much for enjoying my boys!! I don't have a claim for his voice but Clover speaks softly-- you have to listen. Gentle and hesitant tenor. It wraps itself in the rustling of leaves and tiptoes by. More Fantasy Irish than Fantasy British.

[nathanielzalexandria]

Fannon Steve Harrington is such a "you never asked so I never explicitly said (because I thought it was a known fact/obvious and I wasn't hiding it and I did mention it)" girlie and I appreciate it...

So here's some rambly angst.

The fall of 1984 was an absolute fucking nightmare for Steve. He had no friends, no girlfriend and no parents and the upside-down returned. To be fair, by simply choosing to be and stay with Nancy after last year was the main reason why most of his friendships by virtue of Steve pulling away. Nancy cheating on him and then leaving him for Byers crushed his soul and self-esteem but he should have seen it coming when he returned to school after missing a week to attend his parents funeral and she didn't acknowledge any of that, only focusing on the guilt eating at her from hiding Barbs death from her parents. It had crossed his mind to bring it up to Nancy what was going on in his life but... when they died in that accident it was all over the news and he had told her he was going to Italy to bury his parents.

His father Aidan Harrington, an Irish Hawkins born, was a famous international operatic tenor. It was during the production of La Traviata that his father met his mother Emilia and their romance and careers grew from there. They eventually got married and had their baby Stefano Harrington. So for the first few years of life he travelled with them to different productions until they eventually settled down into semi retirement until he turned 14.

It was Steve that pushed his parents to get back into opera once he entered high school. He was old enough to take care of himself and he had a phone so he could call every night. So when they died in a car accident on their way from the Opera house in Italy, Steve in that moment couldn't help but blame himself for their death. The crash was plastered over screens and the papers as the music community mourned heir loss and the funeral in Italy doubly so -now with his face attached. And for that week, he didn't cry

He had expected when he returned some acknowledgement of the event but, other than one band geek with the curly hair, that did not happen. So he did what he did best, ignore it and go to a party with Nancy on Halloween. Then everything with the upside down unfolded and there was no time.

By the time he returned from the hospital to his empty home, he broke down. He was now completely alone with no support system. Its probably why he reached out to Owens for a therapist. If it wasn't for Dr Kelly... Steve wasn't sure if he might have stayed around long enough to meet Robin and he certainly would not be around to save Eddie...

Which is how he ended up here.

In the hospital.

In a hospital bed and the rest of the party stuffed into the room.

El and her group had arrived at the hospital half an hour before and were exchanging stories from the past few days. Apparently, El was kidnapped, had regained her powers and was able to stop Vecna with the help of the guy with the amazing silky hair. Steve just watched them from the bed, trying not to move too much

"Xiomaro Argyle. But I prefer Argyle, dude" the man with the long silky hair introduced himself to Steve. somewhere in the background, Steve hears someone say, "his name is Xiomaro?"

"Stefano Harrington, but everyone calls me Steve," he replied. One of the kids echoed Stefano.

He hadn't expected Argyle's response. "Wait -like that opera couple my yaya always listens too? What were they called?"He paused as he racked his brain before snapping. "Adrian and Emilia, right? My grandma was crushed when they died in that car crash. She light's a candle for them every Dios de los Muertos. Sorry about that bro."

And at that, Steve's world froze, because this was the first person other than his parents to say those words to him. He quickly wiped the tear from his eye before the other's could see. He hadn't realised that the room had quieted.

"YOU'RE PARENTS ARE DEAD?" Dustin yelled.

Steve barely had the chance to speak when Nancy cut in, angry, for some reason.

"When did this happen and why didn't you say anything? Jesus H Christ, you're always hiding from your feelings like some macho idiot and you neve confront anything!"

Nancy had continued to berate him but Steve zoned out. Chest feeling tight with the boiling anger growing behind his sternum.

"I. did." He interrupted simply.

"No you didn't."

"I did because

You were still my fucking girlfriend at that time and it would be shitty of me not to tell you

I had to go to Italy to bury them at my mother's family cemetery according to their will. It would be wrong if I didn't tell my girlfriend I was going to be missing a week of school and why. Which I did the night I learnt about their death and I came by your house."

Nancy faltered a bit at that, losing some of her righteous fury, but she pressed on. "I would remember something like that, Steven"

"No you wouldn't. The same way you can't seem to remember that my name is Stephano and not Steven even though I told you that and it was all over my stuff home."

Her mouth clicked shut at that and an embarrassed blush covered her face. On a normal day, he would have stopped there and maybe vent to his therapist but he was still raw from the past few days and Nancy toying with his emotions only to forget about him once Johnathan came back.

"Okay, let's say I didn't tell you. My parents' death was everywhere including their funeral and you didn't see it although you always read the papers. I was not in the country for a week, which meant I was not at home for a week, and thus not in school for a week and you didn't notice that I your then-boyfriend just disappeared? You didn't think to question where I was, if you did notice, when I got back?"

There was no answer. He couldn't stop the bitter laugh from bubbling up

"Fuck. You really weren't paying attention to me? I just thought you were feeling guilty about barb and trying to fix things for her parents which is why you didn't say anything. Not just that I registered so low on your list of importance that my words just flowed into one ear and out the other."

He was getting worked up and his therapist would be disappointed that he didn't stop there. "And what about the rest of you? You saw my parents and just what? Assumed they abandoned me or something?"

The silence was now suffocating, and Steve could not stand their ashamed looks at each other.

"And none of you asked me any questions about it?

"You know what? Fuck you, Nancy! You're standing there on your pedestal, calling me a "macho idiot" that I'm hiding from my feelings as if I would have had anyone to talk to seeing that you and Johnathan avoided me once you started dating. Newsflash! That's why I have a fucking government therapist I see every Wednesday since 84!"

He let the last statement hang heavy in the air like the sword of Damocles over the group before deflating and flopping back In his hospital bed, emotionally spent. Eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Everyone, just... just leave."

He waited until he thought he heard everyone leave and looked back down, startled when he saw that Eddie was still in the room.

"Don't be too hard on the shitheads for too long. For all their collective intelligence they are still a pack of idiots too sure of themselves to not consider that surface-level Steve is all that exist."

Steve said nothing to that, already feeling shitty for blowing up on the kids, and a little less shitty about blowing up on Nancy.

"Anyway, you also seem to forget that I wished you condolences that week so maybe yoy should not be too hard on them."

At that, Steve focused on Eddie, wracking his brain and being confused with its results.

"You were a band kid?" Steve asked incredulously

Eddie lazily shrugged, "It was a phase. Now, seeing that it seems that you have it on your chest heavy enough that just hearing their names almost made you cry; tell me about your parents, Stevie."

In Steve's chest, he felt something... Flutter.

--------------------------------------------------

This one got away from me, but this is all I have. This is slightly inspired by a post I saw from piratefishmama about Steve having good parents and everyone just assumed they were bad people even though they never asked him any questions (it's deleted; don't look for it). And don't ask me why they are opera singers my brain just latched onto that being their profession and why their death was everywhere.

[nimonabigbang]

Participant Spotlight — Wiz!

Writer pinch hitter, Artist pinch hitter | Tumblr: @wizisbored | AO3: Wiz_is_bored

Wiz's dog is called William and he is an old man (twelve)

Why did you join the Nimona Big Bang?

I had only just watched the film for the first time when the original sign-ups were happening. I considered it, but ultimately decided that I wasn't invested enough in the fandom yet to commit. Fast-forward to my hundreth time watching it with my flatmate, at least one wip deep already (I don't remember if the cowboy au was around at the time), and I have an idea for another fic. We're a few weeks away from a uni deadline and my project isn't going anywhere good so I decide that I won't start the fic until after hand-in, and I won't even mention it on tumblr to avoid distracting myself. When I do eventually start I think hey, I've made it this far, let's see how long I can keep this to myself. So when I see the post asking for writer pinch-hitters, I've already got 600-800 words of a secret fic that I have a solid plan for, and that isn't going to be an ungodly length like most of my ideas. So, here I am.

Share something you like about the Nimona movie or comic.

This allegorical pink shapeshifter is the thing that made me fully understand why representation matters to people. I'd watched stuff with explicit, literal trans rep before and thought 'oh hey trans person' and 'oh hey trans thing I do that' but I never *felt* anything. I appreciated it more in a 'making trans stuff visible to other people' way than anything, but really it didn't mean all that much to me. But Nimona *resonates*. I don't care if it's not explicit or literal it made me *feel* something, for the first time. And I have theories as to why that is, but without going into all that I can only be thankful to the filmmakers who saw something there and ran with it. I still yell 'cis man behaviour' at Ballister on the train every time.

Favorite characters: Nimona (movie version), Nimona (comic version), the Director

Other fandoms: Beetlejuice the Musical

Other hobbies: I play irish tenor banjo and am working on transfering that skill to mandolin, collect horse brasses and country records from charity shops, and dabble in various arts and crafts.

Is there anything else that you'd like to share about yourself?

I study performance design at university with a personal focus on theatre puppetry, and have just started a project where I will be building a life-sized Nimona puppet. Unsure how much of that I'll be able to share online, but I'm excited.

[friendlessghoul]

It was not always possible to take that war seriously. In the first place I could not understand why we, the French, and the English were fighting the Germans and the Austrians. Being in vaudeville all of my life had made me international-minded. I had met too many kindly German performers—singers and acrobats and musicians—to believe they could be as evil as they were being portrayed in our newspapers. Having known Germans, Japanese jugglers, Chinese magicians, Italian tenors, Swiss yodelers and bell-ringers, Irish, Jewish, and Dutch comedians, British dancers, and whirling dervishes from India, I believed people from everywhere in the world were about the same. Not as individuals, of course, but taken as a group.

- Buster Keaton, My Wonderful World of Slapstick - Page 98