#and the interviewer is like ‘why didn’t you go to the dentist as a kid’ and Katy’s like ‘we were poor…’

[rigginsstreet]

Whenever I think about how much dental work costs it literally sends me into an anxiety attack like I hate society lmao

[waitimcomingtoo]

Would You Rather?

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom mentions his crush on you during an interview and you respond

Authors note: this was requested by anon who gave a generous donation to the BLM fund. Thank you!

Masterlist

“Would you rather fight a horse sized duck or a duck sized horse?” Tom read off a card as he adjusted the collar on his blue jumpsuit.

“I don’t know what situation I’d be in where I’d have to fight either of these animals.” He started as he looked at the camera. “I feel like I’d rather fight duck sized horse because that’s pretty small. I could probably defeat that. But a horse sized duck could bite me, you know?”

The crew nodded in agreement and Tom moved on to the next question.

“Would you rather lose the ability to read or the ability to speak?” Tom scratched behind his head as he thought about it.

“I barely have the ability to read as it is.” He laughed. “I’m an actor, so I feel like I need the ability to speak.”

He dropped that card on the couch and picked up the next one.

“Would you rather have Captain Marvel or Black Cat as your girlfriend?” He smiled as he read.

“I don’t know if they mean as my girlfriend or as Spider-Man’s girlfriend but I without a doubt would pick Black Cat.” Tom said confidently. “I was so upset when they cast Y/n L/n as the Black Cat and didn’t connect her movie to the Spider-Man universe.”

“Why were you upset?” A crew member asked.

“Because I’m in love with Y/n.” Tom laughed like it was obvious. “I must’ve seen every movie of hers 100 times. Especially the Black Cat suit because she looked so freaking hot in that.”

“She really did.” A female lighting director nodded in agreement.

“Right? If Black Cat was Spider-Man’s girlfriend and Y/n was my girlfriend I’d be a very happy man.” Tom sighed dreamily and toyed with the card as he day dreamed about you.

That video went up a few days later and made the usual headlines. You were well aware of Tom as an actor but completely unaware of his crush on you. Your heart stopped that first time you saw the headline:

“Watch Tom Holland gush over his celebrity crush, Y/n L/n.”

And yes, you did watch.

You watched many times in fact. The part where he said he was in love with you was your personal favorite. After getting sent the video by all your friends and fans, you decided to do something about it.

“@tomholland1996 you look pretty hot in your suit as well. And out of the suit. And in regular clothes. Damn dude, you’re pretty hot.”

You posted the tweet with a devious smile and shut your phone off. Whatever the world had to say about it, they could wait until the next morning.

~

You were woken up early the next morning by your phone ringing. You wiped the sleep from your eyes but kept them shut as you held your phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You said groggily.

“Y/n? It’s your manager. I have some exciting news.” Your manager sounded giddy on the other side of the line.

“So exciting that you had to wake me up?” You laughed sleepily.

“I don’t know.” She humored you. “Do you think the Russo Brothers emailing me and asking you to come to set is exciting?”

You sat up quickly as your eyes flew open.

“What?” You shrieked in excitement.

“They said they’ve been rewriting the script for Infinity War for the past few weeks and it’s finally finished. They added a scene with the Black Cat.” She said in a sing song voice. Your breath hitched in your throat as the news flooded into your ears.

“You’re kidding.” You gasped.

“Nope. Can you drive down to set at 1? I sent you the address.” She told you.

“I’ll be there.” You nodded as a wide smile spread across your face. Your manager hung up and you threw down your phone.

“AHHHH.” You screamed in excitement and immediately got dressed. It was finally happening.

You were finally going to be in the MCU.

~

You arrived at the address promptly before 1 and were led to set by an assistant. The Russo Brothers met you by the trailers and introduced themselves.

“Great to meet you.” Joe shook your hand, then Anthony. “How much did your manager tell you?”

“Just that you added a scene with the Black Cat.” You nodded as you relayed all the information you had.

“Right. We decided to add the Black Cat to the MCU now that her character has been established in your solo movie.” Anthony explained. “We had to keep it a secret until now to keep it from getting leaked. We have big plans for your character, starting with this movie.”

You smiled gratefully at the two of them and nodded enthusiastically.

“Thank you so much for the opportunity. I’m so honored to be here. What are the plans?” You asked as you twisted your fingers nervously.

“For starters, meet your new boyfriend.” Joe chuckled and turned around and pointed.

“Boyfriend?” You asked and followed his finger.

“Tom, get over here.” He called. Your eyes widened when you realized what name he called and you looked up to see Tom jogging over to you.

“What’s up guys?” He looked at the Russo bothers before his eyes landed on you. His smile faded and he blinked a few times to register the sight in front of him.

“Hi.” His face flushed and he smiled shyly at you.

“Hi.” You smiled back, still not believing what was happening.

“I’m- I’m Tom.” He fumbled over his words as he held out his hand.

“I know.” You laughed softly as you shook his hand.

“Right, sorry.” He shook his head in embarrassment. “Whats uh, what’s she doing here?”

“Change of plans.” Anthony smirked as he handed you and Tom a few pages of the script.

“You’re giving me a script?” Tom asked in disbelief as he ran his fingers over the crisp white pages.

“Yes. Don’t make us regret it.” Joe said sternly.

“Yes sir.” Tom nodded eagerly and began to flip through it.

“Peter is going to get thrown by one of Thanos’s men and Black Cat is going to catch him.” Anthony began to explain. “She saw the spaceship, came to help, and winds up in space with Tony, Steven, and Peter.”

“That’s awesome.” Tom breathed. “This looks really cool.”

You were so wrapped up in the excitement of holding a real Marvel script that you had forgotten the brothers original statement.

“Hold on. You said he was my boyfriend.” You looked at Joe and Anthony skeptically.

“Boyfriend?” Tom perked up from his script and looked between the three of you. “Me boyfriend? To her? Please say yes. I’m fine either way it’s just, I would really like you to say yes right now.

“Yes Tom.” Joe laughed. “Right as they’re falling in love, poof.”

“Dust.” Anthony finished. You and Tom shared a look, evidently impressed.

“That’s brutal.” You remarked.

“It is.” Joe agreed. “Until they’re reunited in Endgame in a similar fashion to the way they met.”

“And the crowd goes wild.” Anthony said slowly. You got chills just thinking about it and smiled as you rubbed your arms.

“I like it.” You nodded and Tom bit back a smile.

“Me too.” He said softly. “I like it a lot.”

“Great.” Anthony rubbed his hands together. “Rehearsal starts tomorrow.”

The brothers walked away, leaving you and Tom alone with each other.

“They don’t play around over here. I just got cast and already I’m on set.” You chuckled and shyly looked at Tom. He was so much cuter in person, the camera didn’t do justice to his freckles. Tom nodded and gave you a half smile.

“Yeah, they’re pretty unorthodox over here. I’d tell you you’d get used to it, but I’d be lying.” Tom shook his head and gave you a once over. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t believe you told the world I looked hot in my catsuit but never dmed me to ask for my number.” You shrugged easily and Toms jaw dropped at your boldness.

“In my defense, you are way too cool to be interested in me. At least I knew my place.” He shot back and you laughed.

“Didn’t you see my tweet last night?” You asked coyly as you raised an eyebrow.

“What tweet? The one about you calling me hot? The one that I sent to every single contact in my phone, including my dentist?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows. “No, I don’t think I saw it.”

“Funny.” You folded your arms and gave him a sultry smile. “I never checked if you responded.”

“I’d rather if you didn’t. It wasn’t very smooth.” He admitted.

“Hey, Tom?”

“Yes?” He looked at you.

“Would you rather continue talking in the middle of a crowded set or go somewhere secluded to run our lines?” You made a callback to his interview that started it all and he noticed.

“Run lines please. I need to quit while I’m ahead.” He eyed you with uncertainty as he thought about his words. “I was ahead, right?”

“Yeah.” You smirked and linked your arm through his. “You were ahead.”

~

“Kid, what are you doing here?” Tony asked as he craned his neck to see Peter.

“On a field trip to MOMAAAAAA.” Peter yelled as he was flung into the sky. He flew through the air like a rag doll until he landed in your arms. You breathed heavily, you in your masks and suits.

“Hey there.” You smirked at Peter as you held him bridal style.

“Hi, I’m Peter. You’re really pretty.” He said through heavy pants. “Can you pretend I didn’t just say that?”

“Hi Peter.” Your wine colored lips tugged into a smile. “Should you really be telling me your name? I could be dangerous.” You pouted as you set him down.

“Oh, right.” Peter got back on his feet and brushed off his suit. “In that case, I’m not Peter. I’m…Pedro.”

“Mm, Pedro. I like it.” You winked and saw one of Thanos’s minions coming at him from behind. “Watch out.”

You spun around and kicked the minion in the face before hooking your legs around his neck and knocking him to the ground. One swift punch to the throat knocked him unconscious. You stood up and waltzed back over to Peter as you dusted off your hands.

“Woah, where’d you learn to do that?” The eyes of Peters mask widened as you impressed him with your skills.

“A woman’s got to protect herself, right?” You shrugged and popped gum in your mouth before eyeing him up and down. “And apparently, I have to protect you too.”

“I’m totally fine with that.” Peter answered honestly. “Do you have a name?”

You wrapped your arms around Peters neck and blew a bubble with your gum.

“Black Cat.” You said once it popped. The sent of bubble gum filled Peters nostrils and his knees weakened.

“That explains the catsuit.” He gulped. “What, no tail?”

“Tails are so cliche.” You whined and stroked his covered cheek with your hand. “I’m a cat burglar, not a halloween costume.”

“If this is how you go out on a normal day, I’d love to see what you wear in Halloween.” Peter attempted time flirt back with the mysterious woman distracting him from his mission. You leaned forward, close enough that your lips were almost touching.

“I bet you would.” You whispered. You patted his cheek and turned away swiftly, whipping his face with your long gray ponytail. Peter let out a throaty groan as the scent of your perfume enveloped him. You walked around him in a circle, dragging your fingernail along his shoulders as you went.

“Since you know my name is Peter, it’s only fair you tell me yours.” He said as he turned his head to look at you. You paused, standing directly behind him.

“You really wanna know my name?” You challenged.

“That’s what I just said.” Peter sassed you. You smirked and took a step towards Peter so you were pressed against his back, gripping his waist tightly.

“Hardy.” You said right in his ear and he shivered. “Felicia Hardy. I’ve seen you around, Spiderman. You’re pretty good.”

You finished your circle and stood in front of him now. He was grateful for his mask, otherwise you could see just how red he had gone. His heart was racing out of his chest just from the look of you. The white fur cuffs and skintight black suit were making it impossible for him to focus.

“Just pretty good?” He questioned. “I’ve taken down a lot of bad guys.”

“Mm, but never me.” You taunted as you twirled your gray hair around your finger, wanting to get a rise out of you.

“You’re a bad guy?”

“Depends on your definition of bad guy.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and let your teeth drag. “Do you think I’m bad?”

“Depends on your definition of bad.” Peter straightened up.

“This has been fun.” You smirked and tossed your ponytail over your shoulder. Nice talking to you, Peter.”

“You too.” Peter smiled under his mask until a Boulder was flung your way. “Look out!”

Peter shot a web at you and pulled you flushed against his chest. He pulled you to the ground and rolled on top of you as the boulder went over your heads. It was your turn to be blushing as you stared at Peter in amazement.

“How did you-“

“Spidey senses.” He answered before you could finish your question. He could feel his body beginning to lift into the air with you following. “Oh no.”

“What’s happening?” You asked as you and Peter lifted into the air. You clutched him tightly to keep from falling and Peter held on to you for support.

“Mr Stark!” He yelled. “I’m being beamed up!”

“And cut!” Anthony yelled. The wires holding you and Tom up slowly lowered you back down until you were back on the ground. Tom rolled off of you and fell on his back, breathing heavily from the scene. He pulled his mask off and rested it on his tummy.

“Whew.” He panted and looked at you with a tired smile. “Great work.”

You smiled back at Tom, still flushing from the flirty scene. You had done that scene many times from rehearsal all the way to production, but never that well. Your heart usually stopped racing by now, but something about the way he was looking at you kept it in rhythm.

“You too.” You complimented him as you sat up. You helped each other up and pulled each other into a sweaty hug.

“That’s a wrap guys. Great work today.” Joe announced. “Before you leave, I have the official version of the script. This is what we’re going to be filming tomorrow. We couldn’t give it to you until now in case someone spoiled it.”

Joe glared at Tom as he handed out the final scripts.

“I hate it here.” Tom mumbled as his ability to keep secrets was once again under fire.

“Great, thank you.” You smiled at Joe before he walked away. Tom came over to you, hitting his rolled up script against his hand.

“Do you want to go over our lines for tomorrow?” Tom asked.

“Sure. I’ll meet you there after I drop off my costume.” You told him.

Twenty minutes later, your wig and costume were returned to the costume department. You wiped off your makeup and changed into comfortable clothes before heading to Tom’s. You let out a shaky breath as you walked towards his trailer. You’d been in there a hundred times since production began a few months ago, but today felt different. There was something in the air between you and Tom that neither of you could ignore. You knocked on his door and heard your heartbeat in your ears as you waited for him to open. Tom gave you a shy smile as he opened the door of his trailer door for you and stepped aside.

“Sorry, it’s a little messy.” He apologized as he shut the door behind him. You looked around at Toms trailer, noting the clothes hanging off the ceiling fan and the pictures of the two of you taped to his mirror. You walked over to the mirror and touched the picture with a light smile. It was a strip of picture taken in a photo booth a few weeks into production. The photos went from you and Tom smiling, to laughing, to you kissing his cheek, to him kissing your cheek as you laughed. You had spent your only day off together, hanging out a a fair until the sun was coming up. After getting stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel for 15 minutes and clinging to Tom every time it shook, you ran to the photo booth to immortalize the night. You had the exact same strip of photos on your dresser at home, but you never noticed that he displayed them so proudly.

“It’s very you in here.” You looked at him over your shoulder and shot him a smile.

“Thanks?” He bit his lip in confusion.

“Don’t worry. It was a compliment.” You said pointedly and walked back towards him. “Should we look at the script?” You suggested and he nodded.

“Yeah. Here, take a seat.” He sat on his bed and patted the spot next to you. You sat next to him and folded your legs, beginning to flip through the script.

“This looks the same as the last script.” You realized when you recognized the words. Tom flipped through his script and came to a halt when he read something unexpected.

“It’s not.” He said with a dry mouth.

“What’s different?” You looked up at him in confusion.

“There’s a kiss.” He looked you to and saw your face go pale.

“A kiss?” You stammered and went back to your script to find what he was talking about.

“Right here.” Peter held out his script and pointed to the part. “Felicia kisses Peter before she turns to dust.” He read.

“So this is what they didn’t want you spoiling.” You laughed nervously as you read the stage direction over and over.

“They might’ve made a good call on that one.” Tom chuckled softly. “I’m really tempted right now to post a picture of the script on twitter just to rub it in everyone’s face.”

You looked up from the script and gave him a fond smile.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You said softly.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. “It’s not everyday you get cast opposite your celebrity crush.”

“How do you think I felt when I got cast as your girlfriend?” You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your chin on top.

“You...liked me?” Tom asked quietly. He didn’t let himself believe it, not wanting to get his hopes up.

“For a long time now.” You admitted. Production was about to end anyway. If he didn’t feel the same, there was nothing you could do about it, but at least he knew.

Tom blinked a few times as he registered what you said and smiled widely.

“I’m really glad I got to know you these past few months. You’re a lot cooler in person.” Tom said sincerely. “Honestly, I have no idea how I’m supposed to act beside you tomorrow knowing I have to kiss you.”

“Tom.” You said breathlessly at his words.

“I’m already a nervous wreck. My mind is in sicko mode right now. I can’t even read.” He put his script down and sighed.

“I think I might be able to calm you down.”

“How?” He wondered. He looked up at you for answers, but was met with a kiss. You tilted your head to the side and pressed your lips against his feeling his eyelashes brush your cheek as his eyes fluttered shut. Tom brought his hand to the side of your face for support and gently rubbed his thumb against your cheek. You smiled against his lips and sat up a little to get a better angle and kissed him deeply. You pulled away to catch your breath and rested your forehead against his. The only sound in the trailer was from your heavy breathing.

“You’re really smart.” He said quietly. “I feel significantly calmer.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” You chuckled softly. Tom pulled away and took on of your hands in his, rubbing gentle circles on the back of it.

“I have a question for you.” He said.

“Go for it.” You bit your bottom lip as you both spoke in hushed tones.

“Would you rather,” he began with a coy smile, “kiss me again or go on a date with me?”

“I can’t have both?” You pouted and a wicked flame ignited in Toms eyes. He hooked his pinky under your chin and moved your face towards his, leaning close enough that his lips brushed yours when he spoke.

“I think I can make an exception.” He whispered before kissing you again.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland @damnyoudameron @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23​ @spacebitch2​ @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland​ @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker​ @wendaiii​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild​ @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman​ @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @hes-amarillo​ @quaksonhehe​ @kelieah @silteplaittais-toi @kickingn-ames @purefluff @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger​ @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland​ @yourtypicalhotmess @ohnothezombies @spideyanakin

[no-stabbing-wednesdays]

The Conspiracy Job

I made a post about the “Eliot’s semi-famous identities” conspiracy here and @what---i-dated-a wanted a fic, which got my muse going. So, here it is, and also on AO3

An amazing version of the same concept by @copperbadge was linked in the notes and I recommend you all read that too! The Job Interview Job

The Conspiracy Job

“Oh, not again!”

The others, busy drawing up plans for their latest con, looked over at Hardison. 

“What is it?” Sophie asked.

He brought his display up on the large screen at the front of the room. 

“Someone’s just searched a bunch of Eliot’s old aliases, all at the same time.”

Parker frowned as she looked at the screen. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Eliot was on his feet immediately, concern clear on his face.

“Who is it? CIA? FBI? KGB? Mossad?”

“Give me a second,” Hardison said. “No, I don’t think so. They’re not being flagged on any databases. Someone’s just googling them.”

Eliot relaxed slightly and rolled his eyes. “It’s not those damn conspiracy forums, is it? I thought you got rid of those.”

“I did! They haven’t posted anything, they’re just looking. Oh, they’re here in Portland.”

Eliot tensed again at that, but Hardison shook his head.

“Relax, man. It’s a family house; a couple of dentists and a fifteen year old. If they post anything I’ll take it down, nothing to worry about.”

On the other side of Portland, Julia stepped into her friend Marcie’s bedroom and her eyes widened as she took in the scene before her. Marcie was connecting red threads between grainy, printed-out images on her corkboard and empty bottles of Gatorade littered the desk.

“You have to cool it with this, dude.”

Marcie turned to face her, her hair a mess and her eyes red from lack of sleep, and Julia sighed.

“You look like freaking Charlie Kelly!”

“There’s something here, Jules. I’m sure of it.”

“It’s a couple of athletes and a singer who happen to look similar. It’s hardly the scoop of the century.”

“Look similar? Look similar? Julia, they are completely identical! There are exactly three possibilities.” She held up three fingers in her friend’s face as she counted them off. “Triplets, clones or one ridiculously talented guy.”

“Okaaay, and which one do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” Marcie answered, turning back to her board. “Triplets? Why would they have different names and hide it? One guy? He’d have to be able to sing and play guitar, baseball and hockey. Why wouldn’t you own up to having that kind of talent? Why go to different places with different names? Clones? I’m leaning clones.”

“Clones? Come on, Marcie.” 

“It’s the most logical explanation.”

“You think someone cloned a human being just to create a one-hit-wonder country singer and some short lived athletes?”

Marcie shrugged. “It could be a trial run or an experiment or something. And you remember that anything I ever said on the forums would mysteriously vanish? I went to look after Jacques Labert turned up and every single forum post was gone! Every one! Doesn’t that sound like a government conspiracy to you?”

“It’s weird,” Julia admitted. “But I think you might be taking this a little too far. If the government were making clones, why would they let them get famous so people could discover it?”

“But they weren’t that famous. Think about it, what were the chances that someone would connect them? There were only ever a couple of us posting on the forums. If I hadn’t happened to be visiting my uncle in Palmerston when Roy Chappell was playing and then gone to Saddle and Spurs for my birthday, I’d never have known.” 

Her eyes widened as a horrifying thought occurred to her . “Then Jacques Labert turned up in my city! What if I’m the connection?”

She swung back to the board and began to write her own name. Julia grabbed her hand.

“Marcie! You’re not the center of a government conspiracy! Besides, who’s this fourth guy again?” She asked, tapping one of the photos in the corner. “You didn’t have anything to do with him, did you?”

“No,” Marcie conceded. “And I told you about him, remember? He’s an animal rights activist who was on the news in San Lorenzo a couple of years ago, talking about dog fights in the Presidential Palace. And he’s Canadian. That’s why it’s so exciting that, after almost two years of nothing new, Jacques Labert, Canadian hockey player, suddenly appears. Was the guy on the news Jacques Labert? If there really is more than one of them in the first place!”

Julia grimaced, increasingly worried about Marcie’s obsession with this wild conspiracy. “He was on the news where?”

“San Lorenzo. It’s this tiny European country. Here look.” Marcie sat at her desk, tapped the name into Google and turned her laptop towards Julia. 

Julia scrolled through a few pictures of the idyllic Mediterranean island, then stopped suddenly and pointed at one of them. 

“Wait, who’s that?”

“Oh, that’s Rebecca Ibañez. It’s a tragic story,” Marcie explained, as she clicked on the link and showed her some clearer pictures. “A couple of years ago, the same time maybe-Jacques Labert was there, there was an election and her fiancé won. But, just as the results were announced, supporters of the former president tried to assassinate him and Rebecca stepped in front and took the bullet for him.”

“She was assassinated?”

“Yes, isn’t it awful?”

Julia shook her head. “She can’t have been.”

“What?”

“She’s my brother Zachary’s acting teacher.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I went to see his play last week and I met her. Her name’s Sophie Devereaux and she’s definitely not dead.”

Marcie looked at her in amazement, a grin breaking out across her face . “And she was in San Lorenzo at the same time as Jacques-Roy-Kenneth! There might be even more to this than I thought!”

Julia, almost as invested as Marcie now that her brother’s odd director was mixed up in this, pulled up a chair and looked on excitedly as her friend brought up another google search. 

Back at the Brewpub, the crew were working out the kinks in their plan while waiting for any sign of the internet sleuth trying to share their ideas about Eliot’s multiple identities.

When the computer pinged again, they all turned to see which of his aliases had been flagged this time, only for their eyes to widen in horror as the search term flashed on the screen.

“Rebecca Ibañez” “Sophie Devereaux”

Sophie gave a gasp that almost turned into a choke. “Wha- wha- what?”

Eliot turned to Hardison, furious. “Oh sure, just dentists and a teenager! Fix. This.”

“I’m trying!” Hardison said. “I can’t find any connections to anything. They look clean.”

“Then look harder!”

Wait, I have something. It’s the kid’s computer.”

“Who’s the kid?” Nate asked.

Hardison pulled up a Facebook page. “Marcie Taylor. She’s a sophomore. She used to post on those stupid Eliot forums that I had to take down every week after Memphis. It was pretty harmless, but I’ve no idea why she’s suddenly looking at Sophie’s aliases.”

He scrolled down the page looking for any kind of hint, when Sophie called out to him to stop.

“Who’s that with her? She looks familiar.”

A few more clicks and Hardison had a name.

“Julia Gutmann. She’s in the same class.”

Gutmann?” Sophie groaned. “I know why she’s familiar. That’s Zachary’s little sister.”

“Zachary? Your acting student Zachary?” Nate asked disbelievingly.

“Yes, she came to our play last week.”

Nate shook his head. “I told you to use an alias at that theater.”

“But I wanted to do this as me,” Sophie protested.

Eliot turned back to Hardison. “So, let me get this straight. The aliases and digital trail that you set up to be uncrackable by international governmental organizations are about to be blown apart by a couple of high schoolers?”

Hardison glowered at him. “They’re only looking at old aliases and they were all burnt when we had to leave Boston anyway. It’s not that bad.”

“Sophie’s still using Sophie,” Eliot argued, nearly yelling now. “And I was only just Jacques Labert and in this city. Now they’ve tied me and her together. How did they even do that? That’s way more than some fifteen year old girls should be able to accomplish on Google.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t panic. They were looking at photos of San Lorenzo. That’s how they found a picture of Sophie."

Sophie glared at him.

"Hey!" he protested. "You're the one who jumped in front of the cameras! I can't control the entire internet you know, and I think the people of San Lorenzo would have noticed if every image of their martyred heroine suddenly vanished.

“It’s just bad luck that Julia had met you. But why were they looking at…” Hardison groaned. “They found that video of Eliot and the puppy somehow.”

“Why didn’t you take that down?” Eliot snapped.

“It’s a thirty second feature on the news from two years ago in a country smaller than Iceland! It wasn’t my top priority!”

“Dammit, Hardison!”

“So, our cover’s going to get blown by kids?” Parker asked, incredulously. 

“No,” Nate insisted. “Well, maybe. But we can manage this. Hardison, don't let them post anything. Sophie, call Zachary. Let’s go steal ourselves some silence.”

[fruitcoops]

I was watching this video w Megan Rapinoe & Sue Bird (tumblr won’t let me link but it’s from 2 days ago on GQ- they ask each other questions but it’s like quiz style?) and didn’t know if you would want to do something similar for coops? Some of the stuff they said/how they acted reminded me of coops’ dynamic

Anon, this video was the perfect way to spend an evening. Both these women are my role models and they’re unbelievably cute together--go check out the video here if you have the chance! Their dynamic is a lot like how I imagine Coops, too! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Hey, Lions, we’re back!” Sirius waved at the camera and tapped a short stack on notecards on his thighs. “I’m Captain Sirius Black of the Gryffindor Lions and I’m here with my fiancé, Remus Lupin, to do another couple game.”

“The response to our last few interviews was incredible and we had a great time,” Remus continued. “Miss Marlene McKinnon was kind enough to drag us back in here to answer even more questions!”

“Do you want to go first?”

“Sure.” Remus cleared his throat and pulled the first card. “What are my parents’ first names?”

“Hope and Lyall.”

“Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. What’s my hidden talent?”

“You can sing.”

“Does that count? I feel like most people know that now.”

“Hmm.” Sirius thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on his knees. “You can cook really well.”

“Thank you, baby. What’s my favorite accessory?”

Sirius brightened. “Your watch!”

“Yes!” Remus held it up to the camera—it was simple and elegant, with a leather band and a small face. He wore it with the clock against the inside of his wrist, just above his pulse point. “What is my dream travel destination or vacation?”

“Oh, that’s tough.” Sirius bit his lip in thought. “Seattle? Paris?”

“I do want to go to Seattle, but I’ve always wanted to go to Montreal,” Remus said. “You’ve seen my hometown, but I’ve never been to yours.”

Sirius frowned. “Really?”

“Really. What am I most afraid of?”

“I think…I think you’re most afraid of not being useful,” Sirius said after a moment. “For six years, your job was all about helping people, and it’s not now.”

Remus raised his eyebrows at the camera. “I was going to say the dentist’s office. Goddamn.”

“Sorry,” Sirius laughed. “Yeah, you don’t like medical facilities.”

“I mean, you weren’t wrong about the useful thing,” Remus said. “You still get a point for that. What’s my favorite music, song, or artist to listen to before a game?”

“You don’t have one.”

“That was quick. Half a bonus point for speed. When was our first date and what did we do?”

“Our first official date was just after All-Stars and we went to Sid’s, but we had been together for about three months at that point and just hung out at each other’s houses.”

Remus grinned. “Do you remember what day it was?”

“January 28th.” Sirius gave him a look. “I know for a fact you don’t know what day it was.”

“January 28th.”

“You only know that because I just said it!” Sirius smacked him playfully with his cards. “Next question.”

“What’s my favorite movie and TV show?”

“Jurassic Park and Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

He whistled the first part of the theme song as Sirius did the hand motions. “What’s my shoe size?”

“Oh, god,” Sirius muttered, staring down at the floor. “Eleven? Eleven and a half? You have smaller feet than I do, but not by much.”

“I’m a size ten.”

“Are you really?”

Remus pulled one sneaker off and handed it to him with a laugh. “Check for yourself. Oh, I’d love to know the answer to this one. How do you know when I’m mad at you?”

Sirius tossed his shoe back with a snort. “You make faces.”

Remus seemed surprised. “Do I?”

“Yeah. You’ve got a very expressive face and the second you’re pissed, it’s written all over it. It’s like—” Sirius pursed his lips and scrunched his nose slightly. “I can’t really do it, but anytime I see that I’m like, ‘oh, shit, what did I do?’ Also, you stop calling me baby.”

“That’s what I was going to say. What’s my favorite city to play in?”

“Not Florida.”

“Not fucking Florida,” Remus agreed with a grin.

“Gryffindor for sure.”

“Where was I born?” He gave Sirius a teasing look. “Do you know this time, or should I get my mom on the line?”

Sirius stuck his tongue out. “Madison, Wisconsin.”

Remus glanced at the camera. “We got asked this question in an interview a few months ago and he had to call my mom afterward because he forgot.”

“She made fun of me the whole time,” Sirius pouted.

“What is my favorite food? Oh, you’ll get this one for sure.” Sirius hesitated and Remus’ eyes widened. “Really?”

“I’m a little torn. It’s either my grilled cheese or your dad’s turkey-cranberry thing. Actually, I don’t think you know what your favorite food is.”

Remus nodded slowly. “That’s a really good point. My first thought was grilled cheese, but my dad makes the best postgame sandwiches. I’ll give you that. What’s my favorite hobby?”

“Reading.”

“What did I want to be when I was a kid?”

“A librarian, until you started playing hockey.”

Remus leaned over and high-fived him. “You’re on a roll, baby. What was my jersey number in college?”

“Number six.”

“The transition was so fucking easy,” Remus laughed. “Coach literally came up to me a month before practices started and went ‘hey, what was your old number?’ and I told him, and he looked down at his clipboard and went, ‘cool.’. I got my jersey two weeks later.”

“Is this your last question?”

“It is, indeed. What’s my full birth name?”

“Remus Jehosephat Lupin.”

“That is incorrect.”

“Close enough. It’s Remus John Lupin, which I find endlessly funny.”

“Why is it funny?” Marlene asked off-screen. Remus hid his face behind his notecards as Sirius laughed.

“Because it’s such a basic middle name! I love Hope and Lyall with my entire heart and they’re wonderful people, but they named their sons Remus and Julian and then I think they got stuck. Like, you’ve got these two very uncommon first names and they sort of went ‘fuck it. John and Michael. We’re done.’ It’s just so funny.”

“Whereas your parents went the extra mile and gave you and Reg goddamn supervillain names,” Remus snorted. “The drama of it all, my god.”

“Alright, alright, my turn.” Sirius leaned his elbows on his knees. “What is my favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“How do I like my coffee?”

Remus hissed between his teeth. “Ah, shit, you always make the coffee. With a lot of sugar, right? It’s black with sugar?”

“It can’t be black if it has sugar in it,” Sirius laughed. “But yes, I do put sugar in my coffee. What are three things I never leave the house without?”

“Keys, wallet, phone.”

“My favorite TV show?”

“Why are you going through these so fast? Uh, Avatar.”

“Did I ever have a job that wasn’t playing hockey?”

“Nope.” Remus frowned. “Were you allowed to get a job as a kid?”

“I was not. What’s my favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Cookies and cream.”

Sirius made a buzzer noise. “Incorrect.”

“Is it chocolate?”

“Yep. You get half a point for that. What’s the first meal I ever cooked for you?”

Remus gave him a look. “You don’t remember what you cooked for me, do you?”

“Refresh my memory?”

“No way!” He punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m not falling for my own tricks. Next question.”

“It’s kind of a repeat from earlier. How do you know when I’m mad at you?”

Remus fiddled with the edges of his cards. “You act all weird and Captain-y, and then you get quiet. Just cranky vibes all around.”

“Cranky vibes,” Sirius laughed. “Good to know. What are my favorite movie-watching snacks?”

“Popcorn and…Sweet Tarts?”

“Yes!” Sirius gave him a high-five. “Do you know what I like on my popcorn?”

“Butter and enough salt to kill a Victorian child.”

“Bonus point! What is—oh, shit!” He nearly fumbled the cards onto the floor. “What is my favorite movie of all time?”

“Indiana Jones.”

“Which one?”

“The one with Marian, because she reminds you of me.” Remus looked over at the camera. “I really don’t like snakes.”

“What is the first thing I do when I wake up in the morning?”

“Oh, I think this requires a demonstration. C’mere.”

“Does it really?” Sirius sighed as he laid down next to him.

“For sure.” Remus cuddled into his side and laid his head on his shoulder. “Alright, the key to a true Sirius Black wake-up is getting all four limbs wrapped around the other person like you’re trying to suffocate them with affection.”

“Okay—”

“And then,” Remus continued with a grin. “I go, ‘honey, wake up’—”

“You absolutely do not.”

“In my head, that’s what I say. It’s very sweet. To answer the question, the first thing Sirius does is this.” He buried his face in Sirius’ chest and groaned loudly, then dissolved into snickering as Sirius’ chest began to shake with suppressed laughter. “Stop it, you’re ruining the demonstration!”

“You forgot the part where I have to peel you off me with pliers and grease,” Sirius teased as they stood up, dusting themselves off. The camera crew applauded and they both bowed. “Alright, where were we? What am I most scared of?”

“Losing your friends and family,” Remus said. “Also, spiders and most bugs.”

“You forgot one.”

“Which one? The dish soap bubbles?”

“Losing you.”

A vibrant blush tinted Remus’ cheeks and ears, and he floundered for words. “Oh.”

“You still get the points, though,” Sirius said mildly. “What city do I like playing in the most?”

Remus paused for a moment longer, then shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Uh, Gryffindor. You like the crowd.”

“I do.” Sirius smiled at the camera. “To all the fans out there: you are incredible and there is nothing like skating out with everybody roaring so loud the windows shake. Who is my biggest hockey influence?”

“Now, or when you were younger?”

“Now.”

“It’s Dumo, right?”

Sirius nodded. “On and off the ice. What’s my proudest career moment?”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Remus said sarcastically. “Could it possibly be winning the Stanley Cup?”

“Just maybe,” Sirius laughed. “What’s my most famous celly, and which one’s my favorite?”

Remus grinned. “Lightning McQueen.”

“I hate it when you call it that.” Despite his words, Sirius was smiling. “It’s supposed to be cool!”

“Can you elaborate?” Marlene asked.

“I mean, most people who have seen him play know what I’m talking about,” Remus said, gesturing to the camera. “But Sirius’ famous celly is a double fist pump, and I call it the Lightning McQueen because it’s like ka-chow! It’s also his favorite one, though he dances when we’re skating alone or with a couple of the guys.”

“Shhh, they aren’t supposed to know that!” Sirius covered Remus’ mouth with his notecard. “This is the very last one. What is my biggest pet peeve?”

“When I leave my socks laying around the house.”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner! That drives me fucking bonkers. Marley, who won?”

“It wasn’t a competition,” she said off-screen. “Just a Q & A.”

“Who got the most right?” Remus asked.

“You two are hopeless,” she muttered. There were a few beats of silence. “Remus won, with sixteen and a half out of seventeen. Sirius, you had fifteen and a half.”

“No.” Sirius groaned and dropped his head into his hands as Remus whooped.

“Hell yes!”

“My bonus points let you win.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this.”

Remus faced the camera with a victorious smile. “Thanks for joining us to witness my landslide victory—”

“It was one point.”

“And make sure to like and subscribe for more Lion Pride content! See you around, Lions.” They both mock-saluted, and the video ended.

[thedanceronthestreets]

PEDRO PASCAL GQ GERMANY - OCTOBER 2020

Original text by Esma Annemon Dil

Fotos by Doug Inglish

Styling by Simon Robins

Translated by @thedanceronthestreets

Intro: A broken tooth could almost have been the reason for our meeting with Pedro Pascal to be cancelled - and with that our conversation about roots, his new movie and times of change. 

Interview: It is almost eery how empty the streets of Los Angeles are under the gleaming sun. While Europe is finding its "new normal", people in L. A. are cutting their own hair even without being neurotics. Many of them have not seen their friends in half a year. The pandemic is out of control. So are the reactions to the situation. Inviting someone to a "distance drink" in the backyard can lead to the same consternation as proposing a relationship partner exchange. 

All the more of a surprise was Pedro Pascal's immediate confirmation. To the drink, not the partner exchange. He is one of the winners this year - and if Corona had not forced the movie industry to go on a holiday, he probably would not have had the time for this drink. After "Game of Thrones", the series in which his head was squished, followed 2015 the leading role in "Narcos" as a DEA agent on the hunt for Pablo Escobar, and now the leap onto the big Hollywood screen. As of 1. October the Chilean will appear in the blockbuster "Wonder Woman 1984". Furthermore, the second season of the "Star Wars" series "The Mandalorian" will start in October with him as the main character - unfortunately underneath the helmet. But we all seem to be under the same helmet in 2020. It is this man we want to meet, who worked as a waiter in New York a couple of years ago. Whose parents are political refugees that settled in Texas, and one day their son decided to walk into a drama club in high school. 

And then the cancellation. While we were preparing the house and garden for Pedro's drink and fashion shoot, which isn't an easy task under L. A.'s restrictions, his management called in with terrible news: Pedro has - no, not Corona - had to receive emergency surgery due to a sore tooth and is now lying in bed with a swollen cheek, making talking or shooting impossible. The sun shines onto empty streets. And our empty garden. 

A few days later, he stands in front of the door anyway, no huge bulge in his face, but stitches in his gum. No limousine service that dropped him off, he arrived in his own car and picked up his makeup artist on the way. He helps her to carry in all the equipment and states first and foremost: "I've got time today!" What a star! It does not seem like we are about to ask him how he managed to become a Hollywood sensation, but rather him asking us that question. Pedro Pascal! So, what kind of star is he then? 

Pedro Pascal: Sorry for ruining your plans. The operation was a total emergency. 

GQ: Really? We were wondering whether the swelling was the result of a secret trip to the plastic surgeon. Apparently, because of the quarantine in Hollywood, their schedules are packed. 

Sorry to disappoint you. A few days before our appointment I raced to the hospital with a tooth fracture and the worst pain I've ever felt - a hospital where the severe Corona cases are treated. I was unable to contact any dentists! Right before I parked, a specialist called back. I'll spare you the details of the surgery, gruesome. The pain was excruciating despite the 10 anaesthetic shots. The doctor said I wasn't the only one going through this, a lot of people grind their teeth at night thanks to stress. 

What are you most afraid of at the moment? 

The way the government is handling the pandemic scares me more than the virus itself. The lack of intelligent crisis management is a moral disgrace. The leadership crisis makes orphans out of all of us - we're left to fend for ourselves. 

How have you spent the last few months? 

With frozen pizza in jogging trousers in Venice Beach. I live in a rear building that's in the garden belonging to a family. In reality there are enough good takeout restaurants around that area, but for some reason I like salami pizza from the supermarket. 

That doesn't exactly sound like the movie star lifestyle. What does it feel like to be forced from top speed to zero? 

Considering the things happening in this world, my own state really isn't the top priority. But I would have to lie, if I said I wasn't disappointed. The entire cast and crew of "Wonder Woman 1984" put so much heart and soul into the production. We had so much fun on set. I had hoped to carry this feeling of exuberance around the globe to the openings of this movie. 

You are part of a political, socialist family that fled the Pinochet regime in Chile. What do you remember from back then? 

My sister and I were born in Chile, but I was only nine months old when we claimed asylum in Denmark. From there, we moved to San Antonio in Texas, where my dad worked as a doctor in a hospital. 

Texas isn't exactly considered to be socialist utopia. How well did you settle in? 

San Antonio isn't a cowboy city but rather very diverse with large Asian, Afro-American and Latino communities. In my memory it's a romantic place, culturally inclusive. The cultural shock only hit when we moved to Orange County in California later. Suddenly, the environment was white, preppy and conservative. 

How were you welcomed in California? 

To this day I'm ashamed when I think about how I let my classmates call me Peter without correcting them. I'm Pedro. Even without growing up in Chile, the country and language are part of me. I was quite unhappy in that place. At least I was able to switch schools and visit one in Long Beach, where I felt more comfortable. With its theatre programme, I found my path. 

Could you visit your family's homeland as a child? 

Yes, after my parents ended up on a list of expats that were permitted to re-enter the country. First, there was a big family gathering, then me and my sister were parked at some relatives' place for a few months while my parents returned to Texas. They probably needed a break from us. They'd had us at a very young age, had a vibrant social life, and my mother was doing her doctorate in psychology. 

Was your mother a typical young psychologist that tested her knowledge at home? 

You mean whether I was her lab rat? Absolutely. I can remember weird sessions camouflaged as games, where someone would watch my reactions to different toys. Even though I couldn't have been older than 6, I knew what was happening. My favourite thing was to be asked about my dreams. That was always a great opportunity to make up fantastic stories. 

Was that your first performance? 

Definitely! My strong imagination alarmed my mother, because I'd rather live in my fantasy world than in real life. I didn't like school. I ended up in the "problematic kid" category. At some point the subjects got more interesting and my grades improved. So many children are unnecessarily diagnosed with learning disabilities without considering that school can be daunting. Why is it acceptable to be bored out of your mind in class, when there are more stimulating ways to convey knowledge?

With everything happening in the world this summer: Do you believe that social hierarchy structures are genuinely being reconsidered? 

Hopefully. After the lockdown my first contact with people was at the Black Lives Matter protest. The atmosphere was peaceful and hopeful until the police got involved and provoked violence. At least during these times we can't avoid problems or distract ourselves from them as easily as we usually do. It seems that the pandemic provided us with a new sense of clarity: we don't want to go on like this. 

The trailer of "Wonder Woman 1984" represents the optimism of the 80s. That almost makes one feel nostalgic nowadays. 

That holds true. It's two hours of happiness. Patty Jenkins, the director, managed to make a movie full of positive messages. We shot in Washington, D. C., then in London and Spain - which now sounds like a different time. 

Do you miss travelling? 

I've only now realised what a privilege it is to just pack up your things and fly anywhere. With an American passport you can travel freely. And that's why the small radius we live in now is kind of absurd. Over the last few years I often retreated in between takes, because I was always on the road and overstimulated. Friends complained about how comfortable I had become. We all took social interactions for granted and realise now how reliant we are on human connection. Now, I wistfully think about all the party and dinner invitations I declined in the past. 

In L. A., people spend more time indoors or in nature than in other metropolises. Could this city become your safe haven after New York City? 

My true home is my friends. Ever since I was young I've lived the life of a nomad and haven't set roots anywhere. Until recently, my physical home was a place for arriving and leaving and hence I didn't want to overcomplicate living by owning lots of things. The opposite actually: Without having read Marie Kondo's book, I got rid of all the stuff that was unnecessary and lived a very minimalistic lifestyle. 

Is there something you collect or could never say goodbye to? 

Books! I still own the literature I read during my teen and university years. Recently I found a box of old theatre scripts and materials back from my uni days at NYU. I can't separate from art either, same as lamps or old pictures. Furniture and clothes are no problem though, they can be chucked. 

Do you remember any roles that were defined by their costumes? 

Yes, "Game of Thrones" comes to mind immediately. During that time I first understood what it means, as an actor, to be supported by a look. I owe that to costume designer Michele Clapton. She developed these very feminine robes and brocade cloaks for my role that looked very masculine when I wore them. I felt sexy in them. And very important were of course Lindy Hemming's power suits and Jan Sewell's blond hair for the tycoon villain Maxwell Lord in "Wonder Woman 1984". Relating to the style, I couldn't really see myself in the role since the shapes and colours of the 80s don't really fit my body. My type is the 70s.

Do you adopt such inspirations into your private closet? 

At this point in time, I'll choose any comfortable outfit over a cool look. Sometimes I mourn the days when I defined myself with fashion. It's a bit mad when I think about how, in the 90s as a teenager, I would go to raves; a proper club kid with crazy outfits: overalls, chute trousers, soccer shirts and a top hat like in "The cat in the hat knows a lot about that!" by Dr Seuss. Later in NYC I was part of a group that placed immense value on wearing a certain style. The fact that I only walk around in joggers nowadays is actually unacceptable! 

Normally, actors who work on comic screen adaptations become bodybuilders and eat ten boiled chicken breasts per day. You don't? 

My body wouldn't be able to handle that. I find it difficult enough to maintain a minimum level of fitness. As of your mid 40s, you suddenly need a lot more discipline. Until the tooth incident happened, I worked out a couple of times a week with a trainer to keep the quarantine body in shape. 

What would annoy you the most, if you were your own roommate? 

I can be very bossy. I have to gather all my goodwill not to force my movie choice on to everyone else. When I want something, I'm not passive aggressive about it, I attack head on. Also, I can get caught up in tunnel vision: When i feel down, I can't imagine that I'm ever going to feel better again. I have difficulty with seeing the bigger picture when experiencing problems or emotions. Method acting really wouldn't be my thing. That's why I try to only work on projects that feel good and where people encourage and lift each other up. 

While you were trying on the outfits you pointed out a lack of self-esteem. How does that coincide with your career? 

Isn't it interesting how traits and circumstances go hand in hand? Self-esteem comes from the inside, but it's also influenced by what society believes. We use critical stares from the outside against ourselves. I lived in New York for 20 years, I studied there and worked as a waiter up until my mid 30s, because I couldn't live off acting. It was always so close. The disappointment of always just barely missing a perfect part or opportunity is exhausting. When is the right time to stop trying and what's plan b? That's not just a question actors ask themselves, but anybody who struggles to earn a livelihood - unrelated to how much potential they have or how close their dream may seem. We are beginning to see now how our narrow definition of success is destroying our communities. At the same time, it's becoming obvious that, until this day, your family background and skin colour determine your chances of living a dignified existence. 

What are the positives of becoming a leading man later in life? 

I have the feeling that I've got control over my life - without the pressure of having to accept projects or be a social media personality. That surely also has to do with the fact that I'm a man. Women are surely pressured to appear quirky at any age. 

Life is always a management of risks - especially at this time. For what would you risk losing something? 

Usually, if you don't play the game you're not going to win anything. That applies to friendship, love, work, creativity. Anything that really means something to me, is worth the risk. 

Wonder woman 1984 will appear in cinemas 01.10. The 800 million dollar earning DC comic franchise is moving into the New York 80s with its sequel. It looks spectacular - only Pedro Pascal with blond hair in a three piece Wall Street suit looks better.

[zeldasayer]

I transcribed and translated Pedro’s interview from GQ Germany for all of us. I tried translating as good as possible but bear with me, English is not my mother tongue. By @sixties-loser

Pedro Pascal, the star from “Game of Thrones”, “Wonder Woman” and “The Mandalorian” talks about becoming an adult, film, fashion, corona – and a painful surgery in the exclusive GQ interview.

It seems almost eerie how empty the streets of LA are in the sunshine. Meanwhile a new normality seems to be coming to Europe, most people in L.A. are still cutting their own hair. Many have not seen their friends for half a year. The pandemic is out of control. The reaction towards it too. Inviting someone into their garden for a “distance drink” can cause the same distress as suggesting to switch spouses.

Therefore, it was particularly surprising that Pedro Pascal immediately accepted. He accepted the drink, not to switch spouses. He is one of the rising stars and newcomers this year – if it wasn’t for corona sending the whole film industry into a forced vacation, there would most likely not have been time for said drink. After having his skull crushed in “Game of Thrones” followed the lead role as a DEA agent hunting Pablo Escobar in “Narcos” in 2015 and now he is stepping towards big Hollywood films. From the 1st of October onwards the Chilean-born actor will be starring in the blockbuster “Wonder Woman 1984”. Moreover, the second season of the “Star Wars”-series “The Mandalorian” on Disney+ starring him as the lead is going to air in October this year – but he will be underneath a helmet. Well, we all are under a helmet in 2020 in one way or another. We want to meet the man who a few years ago still worked as a waiter in New York, whose parents were political refugees who found asylum in Denmark and settled in Texas and whose son one day signed up for a theatre group in High School.

Then, the cancellation! While we were in the middle of fixing up the house and the garden for the drink with Pedro and organizing the fashion shoot, which was not easy considering the safety measures in L.A., his management called with an unfortunate message: Pedro – no, not sick with corona – had to get emergency surgery because of a damaged tooth and was lying in bed with a swollen face that was hindering him from speaking and taking pictures. The sun is shining onto empty streets. And our empty garden.

A few days later he nonetheless arrived at our front door without a swollen face but still with threads in his mouth. He was not chauffeured by a limo-service but he came with his own car – he even picked up his make-up artist. He is helping her carrying all of her utensils into the house and declares: “I’ve got time today!”. What a celebrity! It seemed like we did not want to ask him how he made it to the A-List of Hollywood but he wanted to ask us how we made it to the A-list. Pedro Pascal! Yes, what kind of a celebrity?

Pedro Pascal: Sorry for messing with your plans. The surgery was an emergency.

GQ: Really? We were wondering whether the swelling wasn’t the product of a secret visit to the plastic-surgeon. Apparently, they are drowning in work because of the quarantine in Hollywood.

PP: I have to disappoint you. A few days before our appointment I was rushing to the hospital with a fractured tooth and the worst pain in my entire life – a hospital in which treats people with severe cases of corona. I was unable to reach any dentist! Right in front of the parking lot a specialist called me back. The pain was hell despite the ten injections I got. The doctor said I was not an exception because a lot of people are grinding their teeth because of all the stress.

GQ: What are you most afraid of at the moment?

PP: How the government is handling the pandemic is worrying me more than the virus itself. This shortage of intelligent management of the crisis is a moral shame. The leadership crisis in this country is turning us all into orphans – destitute and abandoned.

GQ: How did you spend your time over the last few months?

PP: I spent it with frozen pizza and sweatpants in Venice Beach. I live in a rear house that’s in a family’s garden. Actually, there are a lot of good takeout places nearby but for some reason I just love pepperoni pizza from the supermarket.

GQ: That does not really sound like movie star-lifestyle. What does it feel like being suddenly stopped from top speed to zero?

PP: Regarding what is going on around the world one should hold back one’s own mental turmoil. I would be lying if I was saying that I am not disappointed. The whole team put a lot of heart and work into the production of “Wonder Woman 1984”. We had a lot of fun on set. I wished to travel around the world and introduce the film with the same lively energy.

GQ: You come from a politically engaged, socialist family that fled from the Pinochet-regime in Chile. What do you remember from that time?

PP: My sister and I were born in Chile but I was only nine months old when we first found asylum in Denmark. From there we quickly came to San Antonio in Texas where my dad started working as a doctor at the university clinic.

GQ: Texas is not known as a socialist utopia. How did you assimilate?

PP: San Antonio is not a Cowboy-town but very diverse with big Asian, black and Latino communities. I remember it as a romantic place, culturally open. The culture shock only came as we later moved to range county in California. There the atmosphere was suddenly white, preppy and conservative.

GQ: How were you received in California?

PP: I’m still ashamed of the fact that I did not correct my classmates when they kept on calling me Peter. I am Pedro. Even if I didn’t grow up in Chile the country and the language are still a part of me. I was very unhappy in that environment. However, I was fortunately able to go to another school close to Long Beach where I felt more comfortable. Through the theater group at that school I found my way.

GQ: Were you able to visit Chile as a child?

PP: Yes, when my parents made it to the list of expatriates that were able to travel to Chile without consequences. First, there was a big family reunion and then my sister and I stayed there for a few months with relatives while my parents went back to Texas. They likely needed a break from us. They got us when they were very young, had a buzzing social life and my mother was obtaining a PhD in psychology.

GQ: Was your mother a typical young psychologist who wanted to apply her theoretical knowledge at home?

PP: You mean, whether I was her guinea pig? For sure! I remember strange tests and sittings that were disguised as games where someone was watching me react to different toys. I cannot have been older than six but I was already aware of the dynamic. My favourite thing was being questioned about my dreams. That was a wonderful opportunity to come up with fantastic stories.

GQ: Was that your first performance?

PP: Of course! My mother worried about my strong imagination because I was living in my own fantasy world rather than reality. I hated going to school. I was always categorized as the troublemaker. At one point, the topics at school became more interesting and my grades also went up. There are so many kids that are unnecessarily diagnosed with learning disabilities without considering that school can be abhorrent. Why is it so accepted to be bored in class when there are so many stimulating ways to convey knowledge?

GQ: Considering al that has happened this summer around the world: Do you believe that we can seriously demand social change now?

PP: I Hope so. After lockdown, the first time I went out was to protest for “Black Lives Matter” on the streets. The energy was peaceful and hopeful until the police provoked severe conflicts. Nevertheless, we cannot run from problems like we used to this time and we cannot distract ourselves from them either. It seems like the pressure of the pandemic led to a new clarity: We cannot go on this way.

GQ: The “Wonder Woman 1984” Trailer revives the optimism of the 1980’s. From today’s point of view, it seems almost nostalgic.

PP: That’s right. You really are happy for two hours. The director Patty Jenkins created a film full of positive messages. We shot in Washington D.C., then in London and Spain – this sounds like I am talking of a past time.

GQ: Do you miss traveling?

PP: I’m just now realizing the privilege of just packing up one’s stuff and being able to fly anywhere. An American passport used to guarantee unlimited travel. And that’s why it the small radius of our lives is actually unimaginable. Over the last years I often retreated for a break after shootings because I was constantly on the move and overstimulated. My friends were already complaining I had become too comfortable. We all took social contact for granted and are only realizing now how dependent we actually are on human contact. Over the last weeks I often longingly thought about all the parties and dinner invitations I declined.

GQ: In L.A. people spend more time at home or nature than in other metropolises that are more geared towards public life. Could this city become your second home after New York?

PP: My Real Home are my friends. I have been a nomad since I was little and I do not have a place where I have put down roots. Up until not long ago my physical home was a place in between departure and arrival. Therefore, it was something I did not want to complicate through the accumulation of stuff. On the contrary: Without having read Marie Kondo’s book I have freed myself from excess baggage over the last few years and I lived relatively minimally.

GQ: Is there nothing you collect or something you just can’t throw away?

PP: Books! I even still have the literature I read when I was a teenager and when I was in college. Recently, I stumbled upon a box full of old theatre manuscripts and materials from my time at the New York University. I also cannot part from art easily, just like I cannot part from lamps or old photos. On the other hand, I can easily get rid of furniture and clothes.

GQ: Do you remember roles that were really only completely defined through the costume?

PP: Yes, I am particularly thinking about “Game of Thrones”. At that time I understood for the first time what it meant to be supported by a look. This is thanks to the costume designer Michele Clapton. She created very feminine robes and brocade coats for my character that nevertheless looked masculine when worn and I felt very sexy in them. Of course, Lindy Hemmings power-suits and Jan Swells bleached hairstyle for the tycoon-villain in “Wonder Woman 1984” were very important as well. At first I did not really see myself in the role because the cuts and colors of the 80s do not really fit my body. I’m more the 70s type.

GQ: Do you incorporate those inspirations into your personal wardrobe?

PP: In my free time I choose comfort over a cool look these days. Sometimes I miss the times when I expressed myself through a certain style. It is hard to imagine that I went to Raves as a teenage in the 90s; I was a real club kid with ridiculous outfits: overalls, balloon pants, football shirts and a top hat, like in Dr.Seuss’s “Cat in a Hat”. Later in New York I was hanging out with a group of people that felt it was very important to have a certain style. The fact that I am basically only wearing sweatpants everyday is actually tragic.

GQ: whoever plays roles in comic book adaptations becomes a bodybuilder and eats ten chicken breasts a day. You don’t?

PP:My body would not agree with that. It is hard enough to stay in shape normally. When you’re in your mid-forties you have to live with a lot more discipline. Up until before my tooth-incident I worked out with a trainer in my garden multiple times a week to keep the quarantine body in check.

GQ: Apart from the personal trainer, are you in a steady relationship?

PP: I am not ready for that yet. Maybe at some point I will be but until then I’ll let it be. I can’t even offer you absurd corona dating stories.

GQ: What would annoy you the most if you were your own roommate?

PP: I can be quite controlling. I have to conjure all my humanity to prevent myself from going through my entire film collection. When I don’t want something I cannot keep it to myself or be passive-aggressive, I always have to take it to the frontlines. Other than that, I tend to have tunnel view: when I am not feeling well I cannot imagine to ever feel better again. I have trouble relativizing my emotions or to wave off problems. Method-acting would really not be for me. This is why I try to only work on projects that feel good, where there is mutual support and encouragement.

GQ: When we were trying on the clothes earlier you spoke of a lack of self-confidence. How does that get along with a career like yours?

PP: Isn’t it interesting how these characteristics and circumstamces relate? Self-worth comes from inside but it is also influenced by what society values because we often internalise the public gaze. I have lived in New York for 20 years, I studied there and made a living by working as a waiter until my mid-thirties because the theatre and film jobs I got did not pay the bills. There were so many times I was almost there. The disappointment of having missed the perfect role or opportunity by a hair’s width can be crushing. When should you give up and what is plan B? That is a question that is not only on many actors‘s minds but also on many others minds who struggle for a living – no matter how much potential they have or how close they seem to be to the top. We are seeing now how our narrow definition of success destroys society. At the same time, we are realizing that where we come from and the color of our skin still decide whether we can exist with dignity.

GQ: What are the positive aspects of a relatively late success as leading-man?

PP: I feel like I can decide over my own life without the pressure of having to accept projects or to have to present a certain identity on social media. This is for sure also because I am a man. Regardless of age, Women have to try harder to stand out.

GQ: Life always consists of risk management – now more than usual. For what would you risk losing something?

PP: Generally, when you never risk something you might never get ahead. That is for friendship, love, work and creativity. I have to be ready to take risks for the things that really matter to you.

[dreaminpeaches]

Humble Pie Concept: Give the boy a cat

Anyways, I got this idea from an interview video featuring Darce (the dude who plays Billy in Stranger Things) and he was talking about how one time he and the actress who plays Max were walking somewhere and came across a cat, Darce started to gush about how cute the cat looked and I just imagine him being a total dork over this cat and like following it or whatever while still being dressed as BILLY ( I would freaking pay to see that OOC moment)

(TW: injuried animal, mention of eating habits)

So that got me this me thinking to give Beau a cat, I was going to have him have a dog at the start was like "nah". Beau's dad was the type of dad that thought his son was too dumb to take care of anything, that and his dad didn't want another mouth to feed.

Anyways how he gets this cat starts when his step dad notices that Beau seems to be struggling with something because Beau's around the house alot and not hanging out with his friends like he used to. His step dad advise Beau maybe he should take up another hobby (beside reading, and fixing cars), and suggests fishing. Fishing was an activity Beau wanted to try but his "friends" would always say something like "dude, that's old people s@#$", and they always made it seem lame.

But now having nothing else better to do, he might as well give it a try. His step dad tells Beau about a fishing spot that one of his buddies set up a tackle shop nearby.

The fishing spot is nestled in an area on the outskirts of town, it's kind of hidden. There's a bunch of greenery, so much so that the Tackle shop is kind of engulfed by it, but the owner is not bother by it he welcomes it, so the shop as kind of mystic ghibli vibe to it (if you know what I mean)

The fishing area has a handful of cats roaming about, they mostly hang around the tackle shop since the owner takes pretty good care of them. Also the owner sells grilled fish and other seafood dishes on the side.

When Beau visits the fishing spot for the first time, The owner (who's an old man) tells Beau that his step dad told him he was coming, The owner refers to Beau as "Mr. James Dean" as a nickname because his good looks

Beau has a hard time fishing at first since the owner explains why he likes fishing is because it gives you time to slow down and think, until the moment you catch something it's just you and your thoughts. Fishing doesn't only teaches patience but how you can quiet your mind and how to focus on what's really important.

After Beau understands that fishing gets much easier for him and its actual relaxing. (This is after a few visits)

During his fishing trips the owner teaches Beau a few life lessons and also how to cook fish. A skill that Beau didn't really find important because he didnt really like fish as a food. The owner tells Beau fish tastes 100x better when you fish it and cook it yourself, during this visit the owner teaches Beau how to clean fish, and de bone fish, and Beau ends up really liking fish, and even starts taking fish home for his mom to cook.

Okay here's where the cat comes in, At first Beau just try to ignored the cats around the pond and the shack, not because he didn't like cats, he was just trying to focus (and part of him felt like the cats were judging him), once he becomes more comfortable with fishing, he start to be comfortable with the cats as well. When he would make grilled fish at tackle shop, he would give some to the cats that would hang around. One cat in particular took a liking to Beau, it was a cat the owner rescued after finding it nearby in the more woodsy area of lake, the cat looked like it was attacked by a bigger animal leaving the kitten with a few scars on its back and face. Despite this, the little kitten seem to be the most feisty of the bunch being the first one to grab for grilled fish and always was pawing at the bucket of fish Beau would catch.

Other fishing, Beau would spend time with this cat, playing with it and petting it when he thought no one was looking.

Also just wanted to add that Beau becomes so comfortable with being at tackle shop that he kind of starts working there as a secondary job (other that working at the gas station), he's a bit more comfortable working at the tackle shop because there more outsiders than locals since it's so far out. The owner does pay Beau for his time there, he even Beau feels like he doesn't need to be, but the owner insists...

Anyways back to the cat there's comes a point where Carrie wants to go with Beau to the fishing spot despite Beau telling her it will be super boring, Carrie says she really wants to go because likes looking at the fishies in the aquarium at preschool and the dentist office.

Giving into Carrie's cute nativity, Beau let's her join, like Beau predicts Carrie gets bored pretty quick, she asks Beau when the fish is gonna show up, Beau says he doesn't know, you just gotta wait. Carrie tries to lean lower on the deck towards the pond to get a better look at the fish but Beau tell her to stop because its making him nervous and worried that she'll fall into the deep pond water.

Just when Carrie is reaching maximum boredom, the feisty kitty shows up and manages to entertain Carrie for the whole time Beau is fishing and he able to catch a few.

Beau returns the tackle shop and gives some of the fish he caught to the owner. Carrie ask the owner what he's gonna do with the fish, the owner response with that he's gonna cook the fish for him and some of the cat to eat. Carrie thinks it's weird that owner likes to eat fish, Carrie doesn't really like fish. Just at that moment, Carrie notices a stray tray of what looks like "chicken" and fries, Carrie ask whose food is that, the owner says it was a customer's order but they left suddenly before they could eat it, since the person has come back, Carrie was free to have it.

Carrie: "Mr. Fisher man who's chicken is that?"

Beau: " Um, Carrie that's not--"

Owner:" Oh, it's a customer's order but they left in a hurry before I could give it to them. Don't think they're coming back for it, you can have it, if you like "

Carrie: " Really? Thank you"

Carrie's more than happy to have something to eat since she was pretty hungry. Carrie seemed to really like the "chicken" since she didn't even do her usual eating habit of giving every other bit to Beau, kind of leaving his mouth opened both in waiting for food and being surprised that his little sister finish a whole meal by herself.

Owner: "Why is your mouth opened like that?"

Beau: " I-It's just this thing we do, w-where we like--um--nevermind"

The owner tells Carrie that wasn't chicken, it was fish and chips, Carrie is shocked by this fact (in the most adorable way possible), but quickly ask for seconds, which the owner gladly makes.

Carrie and Beau walk back to the car with a bag of fish and chips and a half a buck of fish, unbeknownst to them they're being followed by the kitten from earlier.

Beau buckles Carrie into the backseat, but he suddenly realizes he forgot something at the shop, while Beau goes back to get whatever he forgot leaving the car door open, the kitten hops in the backseat with Carrie, who's more than happy to see them.

Beau returns quickly closes the back door (without looking) and Beau apologizes for leaving the door open and turns back to make sure Carrie is okay, Carrie nods as she tries to hide the small kitten behind the large bucket of fish.

Beau relieved heads home, the kitten stays quiet for the whole ride, Carrie pets the kitten most of the way home, the kitten's purring being muffled by the car's noises.

It wasn't until they got back home, Beau was aware of the little stowaway. Carrie begs that they keep the kitty, not wanting to be the one to tells his little sister "no" he just still her to ask mom and Dav-- I mean dad.

Their parents actually accepts the new kitten into their home, and Beau's mother said that she always wanted her kids to have a pet, but Beau's bio dad always shot down the idea.

The kitty ends up sleeping in Carrie's room, in the kitty own bed and the kitten if not out and about around the neighborhood would play with Carrie the most. When Beau was home alone the kitty would sometimes chill in his room, and snuggle with him when he was reading or having one of his episodes, the kitty seem to always know when Beau was in a bad mood and would try to distract him by doing something cute.

The kitty would also seem to know when Beau was going to the fishing spot and would follow him to the car and hopped in the backseat, and basically being Beau's fishing buddy.

Bonnie likes to play with the kitten too when she comes over and gushes every time she sees Beau interacting with the kitten.

She may or may not have photos of him sleeping with the kitten snuggled up next to him

TL;DR: Beau's new favorite hobby is fishing and he has an yet-to be named kitten as a pet now because cute, thank you for coming to my ted talk...

[purplesurveys]

1161

 survey by pichu4850

What color do you think of when I say...

Anger? Red, or a really bright red-orange.

Confusion? Gray.

Inspiration? Sky blue. Both word and color give off calming vibes to me.

Shy? Something like an off-white shade, and maybe even pastel pink.

Agony? Olive green was the first color to come to mind, though I have no idea why.

Sleep? Dark blue, like the night sky.

Chipper? Yellow.

Beautiful? Red, the way roses are.

Morning? Light blue or yellow.

Would you rather be named...

Andrea or Aimee? Andrea.

Emily or Erica? Emily. I know an Erycka that I’m not too fond of, so this is an easy pass.

Kelsey or Casey? Casey, though I’d mix up my name a bit and have it be pronounced and spelled as Cassie.

Madeleine or Marina? Eh, not really a fan of either but I’d mos likely go for Madeleine.

Alec or Aaron? Alec.

Ryan or Ross? Not a fan of both names as well though I’d probably go with Ryan, but only as a feminine name.

Dylan or Daniel? Dylan.

Jack or Jordan? I guess Jack, if I have to pick.

Gabriel or Gavin? Gabriel.

How often do you...

Brush your teeth? Once or twice a day.

Eat breakfast? Twice a week, during weekends; though sometimes I’ll end up skipping it for an entire week altogether.

Check your email? I literally never check my personal email anymore after having gotten hired, but I know I should quit that habit and check it every once in a while just in case an intriguing opportunity might come my way. My work email is a different story; I have to use it everyday. I open my emails even during weekends so that when I report to my shift on Monday, my Gmail won’t look as clogged.

Go to the mall? When quarantine protocols loosened up a bit I used to go either on Saturdays or Sundays for some me time as well as some much-needed time away from the house, for the sake of my mental health and sanity. But now that we’re going through another surge in cases, no one’s allowed to go out again and malls are back to just keeping the essential stores open.

Go to the beach? A few times a year, at least before the pandemic. I haven’t been to the beach since 2019.

Play card games? Only happens once in a blue moon, when I get together with friends and someone happens to bring a deck of cards. This isn’t a usual occurrence with any of my friend groups, though.

Have at least 20 minute phone calls? Never. I have 20-minute Google Meet and Zoom calls instead.

Paint your nails? They are never painted.

Wish you were happier? Every now and then.

Did you ever want to be...

A veterinarian? Yes, when I was younger. I once stumbled upon an interview with a horse vet on one of my kid’s almanacs and thought what they did was so cool.

An astronaut? Yup, definitely became a big obsession of mine at one point in my childhood. I still think it would be cool to go to outer space and should the opportunity ever become accessible in my lifetime, I wouldn’t want to miss out on it.

An artist? Not really. I knew from the get go I wasn’t meant to be one.

A school teacher? I would guess yes, but I definitely wasn’t as interested in teaching compared to being an astronaut or like a firefighter.

A housewife? Lmfao yeah. This was the answer I would give when I was like 8 up until I was probably 10 and I knew it stressed out my Asian mother big time. My grandpa got a kick out of it, though.

A firefighter? Yes. This was up there with astronaut.

A princess? Not so much.

A lawyer? I definitely considered law for a brief period, but it was already during my latter college years. There wasn’t enough time to mull over it. But hearing all the law school horror stories from my friends kind of made me relieved I didn’t push through with it; I knew I wasn’t passionate enough about law to want to go through all the hardships that come with law school, so I was fine letting that dream go, and still am.

A doctor? This was never a dream of mine.

Would you consider yourself...

Materialistic? Yes.

Pessimistic? It comes out occasionally, but I don’t think it’s a main trait of mine that people would generally see me as.

Avoidant? Not so much. I can be shy and anxious sometimes but I get over it at some point.

Sarcastic? Only occasionally. I wouldn’t say I speak the language.

Talkative? Definitely not. I hate being in the spotlight, and whenever it’s my turn to share a story or talk in a group I usually have the tendency to rush through it or make it as short as possible so as to return the spotlight on someone else. I’ve always been more of a listener.

Strange? Maybe not strange but weird to an extent?

Intelligent? I guess in some ways.

Lucky? In some ways I am, but I also got handed the short end of the stick in other contexts.

In the next twenty-four hours, will you...

Talk to someone you care about? Probably. I talk to at least one friend a day.

Go to work? Yep, I’ll finally be going back to work since the Holy Week break is over. My workaholic self felt kinda unsettled with all the free time, so I’m actually kinda relieved.

Go to school? I’m not in school anymore.

Be in a different city? Nope, it’ll be working from home for me like usual. We were initially allowed to book visits to the office if we really needed to go there to pack some goodies and stuff, but because of re-heightened Covid protocols our admin has once again prohibited anyone to go there for the meantime.

Read a book? I highly doubt it. I haven’t read any in months.

Watch a movie? Nope. It’ll be a Monday coming from a 4-day break, so it will be incredibly busy tomorrow as there would be a lot to catch up on.

Go to a dentist/orthodontist appointment? No, I won’t.

Do your laundry? My parents probably will seeing as our hamper was nearly full the last time I checked.

True or False: Family...

I have two brothers or more. I only have one brother.

My mom lives with me. This is technically true but isn’t phrased right in my case. I’m currently living with my parents.

My grandparent(s) live with me. No, we moved out of our duplex (where I did use to live with my grandparents) well over a decade ago.

I have half-siblings. Don’t have any.

I am the oldest in my family. Eldest child, that is.

I am an only child. I have two other siblings.

I have 15 cousins I can name off the top of my head. Easily. My first cousins are less than 15 in total, but I know a good number of my second and third cousins as well so this is a cakewalk.

The nearest Aunt or Uncle lives less than an hour away from me. The aforementioned duplex we moved out of is just at the next village; we didn’t move too far so that we can continue visiting them.

True or False: Food...

I am allergic to chocolate. I’m not, fortunately. I’m not crazy about chocolate but I’d be pretty miserable if I could never have it either.

I like vegetables more than fruit. Infinitely more, hahaha. I hate fruits.

I have tried pizza dipped in ranch sauce. Ranch isn’t a very common dressing where I’m from, so it’s not usually offered in restaurants. Given the chance, though, I’d definitely try my pizza with ranch at least once.

I've never eaten kiwi fruit. True, but then again I’ve never eaten most fruits and don’t plan to.

I love junk food.

I love to try new food.

Ketchup goes best with fries (chips). I don’t like ketchup and barely put it on anything.

I like fried rice. I haven’t met an Asian who doesn’t like fried rice.

I can prepare dinner for myself (using a stove or oven).

I hate sushi.

How many...

Pairs of shoes do you have? A little over 10, maybe? I don’t feel like counting in my head rn.

Songs do you have on your music player? I don’t have a music player anymore.

Hours of sleep did you get last night? Around 4.

Times have you had alcohol? Like, ever since I started drinking when I was 18? I never kept track lmao but if I would guess, maybe around 50-60 times? I’m not a regular drinker; I drink probably once or twice a month at most.

Books have you read/started reading in the past month? None.

Windows in your house/apartment are open? I know my parents and sister have their windows open at the moment, so that’s 2. Mine are usually open as well, but I’ve turned on my aircon so I’ve closed them for the night.

Pets do you have? 2.

Kids do you have/want to have? I’d cut it off a a maximum of 3 kids, but having just 1 would already be so nice.

Minutes does it take to get from your home to school or work? I work from home, but in the two times I went to the actual office it took anywhere between 45 minutes to an hour.

Have you ever...

Spilled a cup of grape juice on the carpet? I don’t think I’ve ever even encountered grape juice in my entire life.

Played spin the bottle? I don’t think I’ve ever played this. My friends and I usually resort to truth or dare.

Played Twister? Yes, and there are many fond memories that come with it as well. So when I was 7 years old I befriended Katreen, and her mom and mine hit it off instantly so they started this arrangement where every Friday, her mom picked me and my sister up from school along with Katreen and her sisters, and we’d stay for several hours at their place until my mom would pick us up. Her mom was an amazing host and every week we’d play Twister, watch Pokemon, read books together, etc; anything to keep us comfortable and entertained.

Been caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing? It’s bound to happen every now and then.

Walked out of a movie because it was horrible? I’ve gotten this feeling a few times but I always stayed in my seat because I paid for the damn ticket.

Given the finger to someone on the street? Oh most definitely, as well as drivers passing by. And it’s always been towards men that are being disgusting pigs.

Been so sad/angry that you started laughing? Sure.

Been in a wedding? Yes, but I only got invited as a kid since I was usually picked to be one of the flower girls. I haven’t been to a family wedding since 2007.

Been in a situation where you almost died? Probably not died but almost substantially injured, sure.

Misc...

Are you stressing out about anything right now? Just worried about the deluge of tasks that will inevitably come at me tomorrow but knowing how easygoing my bosses are, I know I’ll be able to ease up soon enough.

Do you think before acting or act before thinking? I used to be the latter but I now see the importance of first considering possible consequences of or how others would be affected by my actions.

Do you act upon your emotions and instinct, or logic and reasoning? Again, I used to be one of these, this time the former. Now that I’m at a much more stable and peaceful place in my life I try not to let my emotions get the best of me.

What are some personality traits you find appealing in a potential partner? I had a number of negative experiences in my last relationship so forgive me for scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to my expectations lmaaaao – I’d love for someone to be sensitive to my needs and feelings, and for them to be able to own up to their mistakes or hurtful habits and know how to apologize and be open to changing if it’s for their self-improvement.

How have you changed as a person in the last 5 years? I tolerate less bullshit now. I think I’ve also grown to be happier and a lot more stable, emotionally. I also have a better sense of what I want out of life and where I want to be, and I’ve also learned to be more sociable and open up to people.

If you could do anything you wanted right this moment, what would it be? Order sushi :(

Is there anyone you can totally relax and be yourself around? Yes, that’s what my friends are for. If I can’t feel comfortable around my friends, I’d view that as a problem.

Did you ever wanted to say something to someone, didn't, and regretted it? No.

Are you scared about the future? I’m scared of the idea of not meeting some of my goals, like having a family; but I’m also excited about what the future could bring me.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Moments with mini-angel; Roger Taylor

*Author’s note*

Here we go guys I managed to FINALLY finish off the last part of my Moment’s with mini-angel chapter and here we go with the most lovable member of them all, ROGAH TAYLAH!!!!!! Now this was is prob. my FAV part of the series but also the toughest to write cause I had established throughout the entire Rock Angel series, that Roger and you reader-chan as the RA have this SPECIAL bond and I knew I had to try and top that w/baby Kelly (so I HOPE I delivered to long time fans of this series)

So not really any warnings just make sure you bill me your dentist bill by the end lol cause trust me you WILL get cavities from the sweetness that’s in this chap. Enjoy my lovelies ;)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@ixchel-9275​

@psychosupernatural​

@waddles03​

@simonedk​

@platawnic​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queensdivas​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@kairosfreddie​

@onebigfangirlworld​

@bohemiansweede​

@5sos-wdw​

@labessieisallama​

@naturalswifty89​

@starswin​

@dj-lowkey​

@isabella-bby​

_________________________________________________________

*New lion cub; Roger Taylor. 4 months old. Surrey, England*

I was rushing around the house trying to get myself ready.  I don’t know why I agreed to do this interview in the first place? I wasn’t ready nor in the ‘physical condition’ to make a public appearance yet.  

I was still trying to lose the post-pregnancy weight I had gained, now all the critics are gonna call me out on even more curves.

“You’re muttering again.” I heard Jack’s voice say.

“I don’t mutter.” I sassed at him.

“Yes you do. You always mutter whenever you get extremely insecure.” Jack came up behind me from the bathroom door and wrapped his arms around me. “Now c’mon, what’s going on in my Rock Angel’s mind?”

“Just…….insecurities.” he sighed heavily.

“This is about the TV interview today isn’t it?”

“Could I possible call in and cancel it? Plus we can just stay here with Kelly.” I suggested.

“No we can’t. Look, I know you’ve been trying your best to lose the post-pregnancy weight but baby you look just as beautiful as before. Hell you look even more beautiful with them. And if some asshole wants to poke fun at them then he clearly has no life than to bring others down. And that is literally a shit way to live.” I looked up at him as cupped the side of his jawline.

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Because if I wasn’t then I’d have the hottest rock band beating my ass all over the world three times over.”

“Well Rog would beat you till the end of time.”

“See there we go!” I giggled softly as he kissed the side of my face up and down. “Funny and sexy. I really hit the jackpot with you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere Jack Kline.”

“Not true, it got me you.” I turned towards him and wrapped my arms around his neck.  Before I could say anything back to him, the phone rang.  I stepped out of the bathroom and picked up the phone connected to our nightstand.

“Hello?”

‘Hello (y/n) dearie, this is Trudy calling.’

“Oh hi Mrs. Cushing, how are you?”

‘I’m afraid not good dearie. I suddenly fell ill with the flu so I’m afraid I can’t come over and babysit for you.’

“Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear about that Mrs. Cushing.”

‘I really hate to drop this on you at the last minutes but—’

“No, no it is what it is. I’m sorry but it would be better if you stayed home and rest.”

‘Oh thank you so much for understanding dear. I would hate to give the sweet little one what I got, especially with her recent colic recovery.’

“Absolutely yes. Well I hope you feel better Mrs. Cushing, take care.”

‘You too dearie, goodbye.’

“Bye.” I hung up the phone and I turned to Jack.

“Is Mrs. Cushing sick?” he asked me.

“The flu. I told her it’s best she stay home and rest.” He sighed heavily and came out of the bathroom and sat down at the foot of the bed.

“So what do you wanna do?”

“What can we do? Deacy and Ronnie are in Bali, Brian’s busy with his own producing, I can’t even get a hold of Chrissie these days, Freddie said he didn’t even wanna come near the house till she was 6months after your little wake up fiasco.”

“You’re never gonna let that go are you?” he said to me with a quirked brow.

“Hell to the no. And today Rory has a doctor’s appointment and Dominique is busy with that.”

“Well you do realize that just leaves…….” Jack trailed off.

“I know. I can’t ask him to do it last minute. He prefers to know ahead of schedule.”

“(Y/n), you know that man would fly half way across the world if something ever happened to you. Remember when that bastard plastered our faces on the front page of every tabloid when we first met. The whole band actually cancelled the rest of their Japan tour just to interrogate you.”

“Your right. I just hope he’s up for it.”

“He is. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he’s waiting outside across the porch right now.” Jack teased as he went up to the phone. He picked up the receiver and dialed Roger’s number while I continued to get ready.

About 15 minutes later, we soon heard the doorbell ring and we both looked at each other.

“Speak of the chaotic blonde devil.” Said Jack.

“Just be thankful Fred isn’t here to back him up, then I’d really be worried.” I said grimly.

“You wanna answer it?”

“No you go ahead, I wanna say goodbye to my baby real quick.” Jack nodded and pecked my cheek and headed downstairs while I headed towards the nursery room.

*3rd Person POV*

Jack walked down the stairs all the while hearing the doorbell ring frantically as well as the loud banging at the door.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “I’m coming Roger, coming!” the second he turned the lock, the door suddenly swung open and in came in Roger Taylor.  Wearing his usual prescription shades and the shirt that (y/n) had named ‘the dad shirt’. The blue with yellow and white lines across it, white pants, and his usual favorite brand of shoes.

“Sorry I’m late Jack, hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

“No not really.”

“Where is she?”

“Which one?”

“Both of them.”

“Up in the nursery—” before Jack could even finish his sentence, Roger immediately charged upstairs and trudged towards the nursery room.  He entered in a calm manner to see (y/n) standing over her daughter’s crib, and baby Kelly cooing up at her mother.

*My POV*

“Hello lovie.” I looked up to see Roger standing there.

“Hey dad.” I said softly. “She’s literally just waking up now. Latest she’s ever slept even though she went to bed at her normal time.”

“Well that’s another thing she got from her mother.” He teased as he came up and stood beside me.  I gawked at him and slapped his shoulder he chuckled softly. “Nah, nah, nah I’m kidding. Well—”

“Dad!”

“I’m kidding. But I do admit you do look adorable when you sleep. Freddie says you look like a cat when you especially curl yourself inwards on the tour bus beds.” I lowered my head and I said down to Kelly.

“My darling baby, don’t you dare listen to any stories your godfather tells you.”

“Yes Kelly bear. Do listen to the stories I tell you. I’ve got loads of embarrassing stories in regards to your mummy.” He cooed down at her and he gingerly bopped her tiny little nose. “And you missy, need to head out and get to that TV studio for that interview.”

“Okay but not until I give you the list of Kelly’s instructions—”

“No need I know everything this cute dovie needs.” He interrupted me.

“No dad please you need to listen…..”

“I did. I remember where you have all the emergency numbers, who to call, where the food and milk is at, how to prepare it. Love I’m not the chaotic young drummer I used to be 12 years ago.”

“No. You’re just older.” He glared at me and that’s when he suddenly tossed me over his shoulder. “Whoa Roger what the…..”

“Ah-ah-ah-ah! No swearing in front of the baby. Now you’re going to that interview and I will take care of everything.” He walked out of Kelly’s nursery with me still hung over his shoulder.

“No stop it! Put me down!”

“Nope not till you get your butt out that door and go that interview!”

“Put me down this is humiliating!”

“Oh come on it’s not as humiliating as New Orleans at Mardi Gras back in 82.” As we reached the front door, he opened the door and set me down and gently pushed me out the door.  He then grabbed Jack’s wrist and shoved him outside. “Alright now both of you go. Leave and we’ll see you on TV lovie. See you later this afternoon you two love you my lion cub, bye!”

He slammed the door shut and we heard the click of the locks.  Jack and I looked at each other shaking our heads.

“It’s like he wanted to get rid of us.” said Jack.

“Like I said, he’s bonkers for our baby girl. But he is right, my interview starts in 30 minutes.” Jack and I walked towards the car and got inside.  I started the engine up and soon we took off out of the driveway.

*Roger’s POV*

I peeked out the window to see them finally drive off and as soon as they were gone, I shot my fist in the air.

“Finally! I thought they’d never fuckin leave. The three other guys get their one on one time with baby Kelly and I don’t? That is a crime in itself.” I said as I raced back up towards the nursery.  “Well no more, this time it’s just us. Me and my little Kelly-belly.”

As soon as I reached the nursery, I could hear the faint sounds of her sad little cries.  Poor little thing must already miss her mummy, well time for god-papa to come to the rescue.  I walked over towards her crib and reached down with one hand and stroked her head.

“Shhh, shhh. Now, now Kelly dear, mummy and daddy will be back soon.” Her crying ceased as soon as she heard my voice, her eyes that once cried small crocodile tears, now looked up at me with curiosity.

Her small brain must’ve soon connected the dots because with the snap of a finger she went from sad to happy as she reached out towards me happily cooing.

“Oh is all that joy for me?” I teased down to her. Her baby laughs echoing throughout the room as I talked down to her, “Is this happy baby all for me?” I reached down and picked her up and held her close to my chest. “God I swear every time I see you, you’re growing like a weed, much like my own little girl. You both need to stop that.” She babbled on. “No you do. I swear before you know it you’ll be walking, talking, graduating school and university, and god forbid marriage. God why can’t you girls just stay small and young forever like this?”

Kelly continued to coo at me and she even gave me that adorable gummy smile.  I smiled down at her before gently readjusting her in my arms so that her head rested up against my shoulder.

“What do you say we fill that tummy of yours up with milk? Hmm? I’ll bet you’re hungry aren’t yah?” she squirmed in my embrace and I took that as a yes.  The two of us walked out of the nursery and I prepped her bottle.

I looked at the instructions that (y/n) had written down when it came to prepping her bottle and as we waited for the bottle to warm up in the warm water, Kelly soon started getting even fussier.

“Oh I know lovie, I know it’s coming though.” I soothed her as I gently bounced her up and down.  After checking to see the bottle was all done, I took it out and walked over to the rocking chair in the living room.  Right as the nipple of the bottle touched Kelly’s mouth, she opened her mouth and proceeded to inhale her milk. “Now, now not so fast. Oi you little piggy, you’re gonna end up sick if you drink too fast you know that.”

I took the bottle away from her for a second to soon hear her do a small and very tiny but adorable hiccup.  I pulled my shades over on top of my head just as I gave her back her bottle.  

God if this is what (y/n) looked like as a baby, then she must’ve been the cutest baby in all of Leicester.

“My sweet little Kelly, you are every ounce of your mother aren’t you? Same eyes, same nose, and I can tell you’ll have her same fighting spirit. You know; when I first met your mother she was a shy one. But she had a kind soul. Even though I’ve always said this as a joke just to piss your uncles off, she actually gave me 1 and 3/7th sugars in my coffee. She really believed that it was for a health problem cause a friend of hers dealt with the same thing. From that day on, I knew I had to protect your mum. Because if she was willing to look after me, I knew I had to do the same for her.”

When she was finally done with her bottle, I set it down on the table and proceeded to burp her.  I had her over my right shoulder and I gently patted her back till finally she let out a burp.  And I’ll say I won’t deny that I was proud to hear that man-like burp come out of her.

“Nice one!” I praised.  I held her out in front of me so that I could get a good look at her. She softly cooed before she soon started making bubbles come out of her mouth with her spit.  I shook my head at her and asked her playfully, “What? You think you’re a soap dispenser?” she just looked at me with those wide, curious eyes of hers as she continued to make more bubbles come out of her mouth.

I popped her bubble spit when she raised her hand and proceeded to touch my face.  Her tiny hand which felt like the same size as a cat paw, soon began trailing down from my cheek to my lips.  She gently gripped my lips into her tiny fist which made me laugh.

“Excuse me Missy, those are my lips.” I said in a smooshed up voice.  She began to laugh thinking it was funny.  “So now what, hmm? You think you can just own my lips huh? Is that it?” she babbled a short response. “Oh you do own them huh? Okay then, you can have them.” I then took her tiny wrist between my thumb and index finger and moved them away from my lips so that I could proceed with a kiss attack.

I first kissed all over her tiny hand, before moving up her arm, to her shoulder before finally reaching her face.  I then followed through by making sure that I as I kissed her, I made those obnoxious kissing sounds with each kiss and giving her the occasional raspberry or ten.

You know they say there is always something that can be precious to us.  In my life I’ve had many precious things, but out of everything I could ever have or own, there is nothing more precious to me than the sound of a baby’s laughter.

The first time I made Felix laugh, it was—god it was indescribable.  It was like—a bell had rang off, but it was so soft and melodic, nothing like from the hard rock instruments I’ve surrounded myself with.  In fact his laugh was the one light musical ring that I would always love and cherish.

And now with my two girls, my daughter and goddaughter their laughter’s are just as melodic if not even more so than Felix’s was.

“I told you. You wanted my lips, then you get all the wet, slobbery kisses you can imagine.” I told her in-between my kisses on her chubby cheeks.  She laughed heartily and I swear it was like my heart was soaring at hearing that adorable little laugh. “You’re a silly girl. Do you know that?” I told her as I held her up in front of me.

She cooed at me as her hand once again reached out to touch my face, this time she rested it against my cheek.  I smiled at her and nuzzled against her tiny hand.

“Do you know just how cute you are?” she looked at me with awe. “Yeah, you are adorable. Just like your mother. Ohh let’s see if her interview has started yet. You wanna watch mummy on the TV?” at hearing the name ‘mummy’ she let out a coo. “Yeah that’s what I thought. Let’s see if mummy is on the telly yet.”

We moved over to the couch and I switched on the telly and turned it to BBC1.  There on the couch was Sally Fields, the young woman who I’ve been in an interview with a few times, charming woman and she asks good questions compared to male interviewers.

“Right thank you to Timothy Dalton for his onset interview for his next upcoming James Bond film, up next we have a young artist who has been making a name for herself in such a short time. The Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline will be here right after these messages.”

“Bloody commercials.” Kelly let out a soft ‘bah’ and I replied to her, “You said it lovie.“ the BBC station played commercial after commercial after commercial.  It just seemed to drag on forever till finally Sally came back on the screen.

“Welcome back. Our next guest rose to fame back in 1981 when she performed in the middle of a Queen concert in Madison Square Garden. For the next 5 years she proceeded to be one of the youngest female rock stars ever to have #1 hits in both America and Britain. (Y/n) Kline the Rock Angel is here with us today, welcome (Y/n)”.  The camera cut to (n/n) sitting right there on the couch.

“Hello Sally, thanks for having me here.” At seeing her mummy on screen, Kelly reached out her tiny hands cooing in awe.

“Yeah you see mummy? Yeah she’s on the telly.”

“Nice to see you here, now I was told you were on a brief hiatus for a while.” Sally told her.

“Yes because just 4 months ago I had given birth to my beautiful baby girl. My first child.”

“Which congratulations by the way.” The audience clapped and she thanked them.

“Can you clap baby girl? Hmm? Clap for mummy?” she reached her hand out and tried to point out towards her mum.  I chuckled and took her tiny hand in mine before taking her other one, “Like this baby girl.” I gently allowed her hands to come together before quickly separating them and then making them come back together again.

She eventually caught on and as soon as she heard her hands make that clap sound, she was in awe as she began giggling that sweet baby giggle and clapping her hands rapidly (just to hear that sound again).

“That’s it baby girl Yay!”

“Now your recent album ‘Mother love’ is quite different from all the other albums you’ve done previously.” Sally said to (y/n).

“Yeah, yeah. But isn’t it always good to mix things up a bit?” That’s my girl.

“Tell me how long it took you to record this album?”

“Well given the fact that I did want to try and get it done before I went on my maternity leave I wanna say—about 2-3months.”

“Now explain the title of your album, where did that come from?”

“Well as I said and from what everyone saw when I made my first public appearance back at Live Aid, I was five months pregnant at the time, and right after the concert I dove right into making that album. I really wanted this album to reach out to mothers everywhere whether they’re senior mom’s with grown up kids, the mothers who have many kids or first time mothers like myself.”

The interview continued on with the same old boring questions so I turned my attention down to little Kelly.  She continued to stare at the telly in awe and she would let out a soft coo every time her mum came on screen.

“So what’s next for you once your maternity leave is finished?” asked Sally.

“Well there’s a summer tour I’ve got planned out and then maybe a new single, not quite sure about that just yet but you can expect me on the road this summer.” Of course she couldn’t reveal it quite yet cause this tour she was going on was a Queen+Angel European summer tour.

“Well (Y/n) it was lovely speaking to you and we can hear in the background your latest song ‘Protecting me’. Now let’s not just hear it but also check out the music video for it.”

“Yes, lets.” It was then the telly showed a funny little edit to now show (Y/n)’s music video for Protecting me (which I helped produce).

The morning went by and soon it was time for Kelly’s schedule naptime.  After feeding her second bottle and burping her, we sat down in her nursery and I was reading her one of the many books that Veronica and Deacy had donated to them that they once read to Robert, Micky, Laura, and Joshua when they were just babies.

As I read to her, she didn’t seem at all tired. She just kept looking at the book then back up at me with them doe like eyes of hers.

“Right, I know. Boring isn’t it?” I closed the book and tossed it aside back towards the reading pile. “I think—you deserve a lullaby, hmm? Want papa Roger to sing you a lullaby?” I adjusted her so that now her head rested against my chest, right over my heart. “Your mummy told me of how when you were still in her tummy, you kicked along to Radio Gaga. Did you know that I wrote that song?”

She cooed up at me as her tiny little hand reached out for me.  I softly laughed and said as I nuzzled her cute button nose with mine.

“Yes I did. You want me to sing it to you?” I slowly rocked the chair back and forth as I softly began to sing ‘Radio Gaga’ to her. Her eyes were locked right up at me as I sang her favorite song.  She was so invested in my soft voice but I could see her eyes slowly drooping down.

Softly tapping my socked foot on the furry carpet beneath me for the two beats that the audience would usually clap to.  Just before I could even reach the second chorus, she let out a yawn before cuddling herself into my chest, gripping the placket of my shirt.  I looked down at her and couldn’t help but smile warmly.

Like mother like daughter.

I sat up and gently placed her back in her crib so that she would sleep more comfortably.  It was then I felt someone take my hand, of course I didn’t need to look down to know just who it was because the moment I felt the palm of my hand being kissed I knew it was (y/n).

*My POV*

After a long morning of interviews (both TV and radio) Jack and I finally arrived back at the house.  Already I could see some of Kelly’s toys out and some bottles hadn’t been washed yet.

“Dad.” I shook my head.

“I’ll take care of the bottles, you go see if he’s at least putting her down for her afternoon nap.” Said Jack as he kissed the top of my head and went to pick up the two bottles left on the table.

I slowly walked up the stairs and as I approached the nursery room, I heard Roger’s soft singing.  I crept quieter towards the nursery and peeked through the door to see Roger rocking my baby girl to sleep as he sung Radio Gaga to her (in a ballad type way, which really surprised me since he was such a hard rock and roller).

Seeing my surrogate father rocking my baby girl and being so domestic it—made my heart melt.  Roger always tried to put up this hard wall and be this ‘heart of stone rock and roller’ the ‘bad boy’ of Queen what with his reputation with the ladies (especially back in the 70’s).  

But now—he’s more mellow, especially when it’s involved either me or his own kids, and now he’s added Kelly to the list of those who can see the true soft-and-fluff Roger Taylor.

As I watched him put Kelly back in her crib, I felt like I could make my move and let him know I was home.  I silently walked towards him then once his hands were free, I took his left hand and lifted it, palm up, and kissed it before clasping my hand over his.

“We saw your interview with Sally.” He whispered to me.

“You proud I didn’t spoil the combined summer tour?”

“Honestly, I don’t care if you admitted it or not. But you should’ve seen your baby girl. Her eyes were glued to that screen the entire time you came on screen.” I felt my heart melt once more as I looked down at my baby girl.

“Thanks again for watching her dad. Especially at such short notice.”

“Hey, you know I’m always here for you. Both of you. I told you the day she was born that I was always, always gonna be there. Even cross an ocean to help you take care of your baby.”

“And give Jack fatherly advice?”

“Meh.” I playfully punched him but he raised his hands in surrender. “Of course, of course. Deacy can give the lovey-dovey side of being a father. And I can tell him how to be wary of the boys that’ll come in the future.”

“You mean boys like you were?”

“Oh now that…..”

“Shhh. Don’t you dare wake my baby girl up.” I shushed him.  The two of us looked down at Kelly to see her still asleep.  I gestured him outside and the two of us walked out to the hallway. After I shut the door, he said to me.

“Now about that comment…..”

“I’m messing with yah. Now go on and head back home, Jack and I can handle this from here now.”

“You sure you don’t need me to stick around?” he gave me those famed blue eyes puppy dog eyes.  I crossed my arms and quirked my brow at him. “Fine, besides Dominque is probably back from the hospital with Rory. Might as well see how my baby girl did on her checkup. And kiss her boo-boo’s if they gave her shots.” I softly giggled. “What?”

“You said boo-boo’s.”

“Oh grow up!” he said as he walked towards the stairs.

“No dad I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that as a compliment. I’ve—never really seen you like this other than with me. This whole domestic side of you, I love it.” He stopped just as he reached the last step and had a soft smile across his face.

“I only reserve that for only the most important people in my life.” I smiled at him and walked towards him and the two of us hugged each other.

“I’m—I’m so glad that I got the internship. You guys have literally been the best thing to ever happen to me in years.” I felt him embrace me back and he said softly in my ear.

“And you’ve been the best thing to ever happen to us. We love you (n/n). So, so much. We’re always here for you. I’m always there for you. Now and forever, my little lion cub.” I snuggled deeper into his shoulder and squeezed him even tighter as he did the same for me.

After that, Jack and I bid him goodbye and he drove off back to his family.  That Roger Taylor, he can be a handful at times, even to a point where he’s the ultimate helicopter dad.  But—his heart’s always in the right place, especially in times like this.

I’m sure after all this, he’s found himself a new lion cub of the Kline clan to call his own.  Of course, I don’t really mind because that’s what the three of us are. A strong coalition of lions.

[lillithenettix]

Part 1

Part 2/?

Part 3

Flower Kid was attending the customer that was browsing the shop and inquiring about flowers and bouquets. They did notice Boris becoming quieter since he is usually such a chatterbox around them. Sometimes he still had little mood-swings that like that come and go though. They thought it best to let him be for some minutes and check in with him when they close the shop. Maybe it will blow over, or he will untangle whatever he is mulling over by himself. He’s been doing that in the recent months. Handling whatever problems he has in a healthy manner. Granted it took him some time to get there, but they were proud of him nonetheless.

Read the rest of the fic under the cut!

There’s ten more minutes until closing time. The last customer just left so they started closing up for the day, doubting any more people will be in need of flowers for today. There wasn’t lots to do, really- cleaning the floor, putting the money away, and watering the flowers in need of it. As they finished the chores, they locked the shop up. Boris still looked to be in a sour mood, with his back turned towards them. When they put the keys away they turned to check on the former dentist but before they could take a step towards Boris, a silent figure slightly taller than them passed by, directly towards the mulling man. 

Ah, Trencil!

Wait, Trencil? He came by just yesterday to buy some flower seeds and purple hyacinths. What brings him here today? Well, judging how he completely ignored them and continued forth towards Boris who is directly in his line of sight it probably has something to do with him. Oh no, did Trencil come by for a casual visit only to see the ex-villain hanging around?

They can imagine most of the ex-habiticians harboring some animosity towards the guy. They never really asked. They spoke about Boris only if others initiated the topic, actually. Maybe they should’ve tossed in a ‘Boris is doing so well these days, he’s so nice’ and ‘He cried watching the animal planet and spent the next day feeding all the stray kittens in the area, what a thoughtful guy’. Okay, maybe that would make them seem like they’re trying too hard, but still. It would’ve been better than saying nothing.

Trencil’s fast-paced walking made Flower Kid feel a bit uneasy. He wasn’t about to go one-on-one on a seven foot four giant dude, right? They quickly dismissed the thought. If anything, Trencil would give him a stern talking to, perhaps in a passive-aggressive manner, and Boris would run and cover rather than fight back anyway. They shouldn’t underestimate the vampire, he didn’t live all those centuries to not gain some wisdom.

Trencil was just a step away from Boris when Flower Kid decided to intervene anyway. Better safe than sorry. Before they could open their mouth Trencil paused and turned towards them as if sensing their distress, extending one finger up to his lips with a mischievous smile painting his face.

Well that was something new. The purple hyacinth he bought yesterday was adorning his ear. They knew he liked flowers but this was a first. Before they had time to react Trencil spun around and silently took the step remaining to reach Boris. He slowly and gently put both hands on Boris’ shoulders, as if to not startle him which didn’t stop him from flinching anyway.

Boris did hear Flower Kid locking up the shop. He wasn’t completely unobservant, but what he didn’t hear was someone approaching him. When he felt two hands land on him in what almost felt like a soft embrace, he was surprised to say the least. What he did know though was that it wasn’t Flower Kid. The hand was too big, with what felt like pointy fingernails lightly poking him through his shirt.

Before he had the chance to turn his head and see who the mystery person was he felt something pressed against his cheek. It was a delicate touch, but pleasant. Only when he felt and heard the faint smack of lips against his face did he realize it was a kiss. He wanted to melt into it. It’s been so long since he received his last kiss. Instead, the confusion kept him grounded for the moment.

Wait, a kiss? Not that he didn’t love those but who in the world would give one to him. While stunned he felt the other person letting him go and moving away with Boris lightly following their movement, not quite wanting to lose the touch just yet. He heard the person lightly fiddling with something.

When he finally turned his head to face the mysterious figure he felt something being pushed behind his ear, lightly tangling into his curls. Saying that he was shocked to make eye contact with Trencil of all people would be an understatement. They looked at each other for just long enough for Boris to make out a playful smile of the others face.

Without waiting for Boris to break out of his stupor, the vampire turned back towards Flower Kid and walked away, his cape fluttering behind him.

--------

To be honest, Trencil found the Habitat sketchy since the very beginning. The website for it was… unique, to say the least. Either this ‘Habit’ guy was barely literate, or he thought broken English was a cute way to be endearing. The whole stay is also free. Nothing is ever free. He lived long enough to know that. None of these things inspired him to seek happiness in a place like that but alas, his daughter insisted. Maybe ‘insisted’ was a strong word for it. She aggressively implied that she will go there no matter what and if he really wants to go too he can join her. Though the way she said it felt more like a command. So of course he came with her.

Checking in was an experience by itself. Escorted in by a decent fellow named Kamal, he started feeling a bit better about coming here. The boy was a bit too talkative for him, but at least Nat enjoyed the short chat she had, and he was pleasantly professional. Just like he expected from a doctor, or rather a doctor’s assistant. He brought them into a waiting room with colorful walls, posters, and graffiti. Some minutes later he announced Dr. Habit was ready to see them.

When they both stood up to enter what Trencil assumed was an office, something inside grabbed Kamal’s attention. He gave a thumbs up pointed into the office, and turned to address Trencil and his daughter.

“One at a time, ‘kay? ‘S just to fill out a simple form before I show ya to your rooms.” He gave a polite smile, as if to show there is no need to worry.

That was unusual. Nat is clearly a child, barely thirteen, so far he was always there to help her fill out with any forms if she needed it. Maybe it is a doctor thing. He decided to enter the room first. That way he will be able to check the waters, see if he should just take his daughter and leave. He’d rather his daughter is annoyed with him over it, than putting her in danger.

Meeting Habit left him dumbfounded. When you live for as long as he does, becoming speechless is something you think you can not experience anymore. Yet here he was, about five minutes into what felt like an interview, not being able to say a word to the sobbing man behind the main desk.

It started pretty normally. They exchanged greetings, Habit asked how he was, then they went on to talk about ‘how’s and ‘why’s. Somewhere along the line of explaining to Habit his reasons for checking in and how it is because of fatherhood, the doctor took over the conversation. With each sentence it turned more into Habit pouring out his life story, talking about his family, and his father. Towards the end he was crying and, frankly, all Trencil could do was watch and listen.

This was not a man that could help anyone. He was in need of help himself, if anything. He should just take Nat and go back home. He really should. No more of this nonsense.

As he was about to stand up and leave Habit turned his gaze to him, and Trencil froze. He felt like he could see through his eyes straight to his heart. So much sadness for such a young person. Maybe not young for a human, but for someone as old as Trencil? The doctor did not seem much older than a child.

His legs suddenly felt heavy. He felt no responsibility for him, yet he felt that leaving the man to suffer by himself would eat away at his conscience. He has his daughter’s love to worry about, not the mental health of some stranger who he met just minutes ago. But his heart did not let the low whimpers leaving Habit be ignored.

So he ended up staying. Pitying the doctor enough to stay, but not enough to do anything about it himself. Maybe Trencil was not as great and amazing as he hoped with his plenty years of experience.

Now, a year later, he and Nat each received a letter. They wondered who it was from, but as soon as they saw the drawings covering the letters they figured it was from the big green guy himself.

Honestly, he had half a mind to just throw it away. While his teeth were still intact, it wasn’t a secret among the ex-habiticians what went down on the day of the big event. But thinking back on everything- Habit crying, his diary, the pain he saw in him whenever they came across each other before he started hiding away in his office… Maybe he should at least give it a read.

The doctor did apologize in the chatroom Kamal invited everyone to. He said he was doing better, backed up by Kamal and the Flower Child. If those two who were wronged the most by the man forgave him, even vouched for him, then surely it would not be fair to not give him a chance at redemption.

Reading the letter, Trencil made up his mind. He will give him a chance.

-----

the fic is kinda split into two parts, i hope it isnt confusing! the first part is what going on right now, the second part is basically how trencil checked into the habitat and how he reacted to the letter :’)

anyway, i like to hc boris as a big softie who is touch-starved

[signor-signor]

Pre-S3 Shorts Idea

May 18, 2020 - We’re 40 days away from the 4th anniversary of Wander Over Yonder’s second season finale, and have I got something special to share with you.

You know how there was a series of shorts (directed by @owner-of-wendys) involving Lord Hater’s broadcast of his attempt to destroy Wander taking place between S1 and S2? I just thought of something innovative, and anyone who’s ever worked on the show should also check it out.

Suppose Hater is still chasing Wander and Sylvia around the new galaxy in his Skullship, as depicted at the end of The End of the Galaxy (just before the cliffhanger that still hasn’t been resolved). Meanwhile on the ex-secret planet, Andy the Watchdog has quick interviews with various groups of refugees who provide their own reasons for wanting to get off the planet as soon as Wander and Sylvia return. Some others just give an update on their status. As we might have noticed after Dominator’s ship exploded, other Watchdogs became acquainted with the refugees, so it stands to reason that Andy did the same.

Without further ado, I give you... (drumroll)

The Eye on the Galaxy

The Rulers - Bingleborp, King of Flendar (with Flendarians) King of Sherblorg 7, Beeza (with Ballzerians), an appearance from the queen from The Axe, Cashmere (with Baahallans), Demurra and Dracor (with their guards). Just as Destructor’s about to start, time runs out.

The Elderly - Stella Starbella and Mittens, the lost and found guy, Trudi and her clones, the Slug Boss (with the two mummy thugs), Papa Doom (with his gargoyle companions), a call from Ms. Myrtle, who just saw Wander and Sylvia dashing by with the Skullship in pursuit and having deployed an Eye Drone for Andy to check on anyone and anything too big to sit on the ex-secret planet.

The Teammates - Badlands Dan and his gang, Oink and the Motorhogs, red and blue ants, the Insurgent Generals, maybe a call from the Robomechabotasquad asking what happened to Robomechabotatron.

The Youth - Melodie and the kids who appeared in The Legend, Olive (with her mother), the Slug Boss’s grandsons, rock babies carried by the Rock Lady, Huckleberry Knucklehead (backed by his parents), the smartphone son (with his camera parents), the trio of teens from The Black Cube, maybe Demurra and Dracor’s daughters and son.

The Gutsy - Ripov, Thrax and his cohorts (Andy would have added Thrax to The Business Folks, but that group was fully booked), Harvax and Stok, the Slug Boss’s nephew (with the two mummy thugs from earlier), Ryder being shown via Eye Drone and “trying to free a karate sensei from his chamber,” explaining his abscence in The End of the Galaxy. I’d mention the three bounty hunters from The Bounty, but I’m not too sure about their status.

The Reformed - Destructor (picking up from The Rulers), Major Threat, the Black Cube accompanied by his new girlfriend Tracy (plus Stacy and her new boyfriend, both of whom have already realized the Cube turned over a new leaf), a postcard from Westley (found by Barry), maybe the half-torn picture strip of Wander and Bot 13/Beep Boop (found by Jerry when he was sent to check on Dominator and Emperor Awesome in The Rival), Something the So-and-So, who gets cut short like Destructor did previously.

The Business Folks - Blarpee’s cashier, Okeydokian restaurant manager and his employee Michelle, apple-and-lemon-headed bartender, landlord and fast food manager/fry cook, garbage collector, Dr. Scrivellix (the dentist), Clancy and Nancy Shmancy, the plumber, curator of MOGA, Weasel, the two Okeydokian movie directors, hat shop owner, the locksmith.

The Mysterious - Neckbeard, Lords of Illumination, fortune teller, Mooplexians, Keister von Derrière and the other Gnees (with censored heads), the Eye Drone checking on the planet where the currently closed structure of the celestial star being stands, a special one-time visit from the Intergalactic Guru via hologram.

The Creatures - The bunny rabbit from The Good Deed, the pit monster from The Birthday Boy, the fire lion, Grizzlocks, Giant Hoarder Scorpion, Trigrex of Nil, electric bird mother and three chicks, the Frankenstein monster, squills from The Wanders, the Hufflerumples, animals from The Breakfast, animals from The Night (the centipede being the only one from the episode to speak), Frederick, maybe a doom dragon or two, the mother and child from The Egg. Seen via Eye Drone are the Gracknore, Buster, and the giant worm from The Hat that promptly gobbles up the Drone.

The So-and-So - You can guess who the interviewee is in this one. Just like The Whatever, this short foreshadows what’s next for Wander, Sylvia, Hater, and Peepers.

The Rest - Of all the shorts, this one has the most interviewees, each one taking 2-3 seconds to give an answer. Cluckons, hogs, Bobbles, Zetuons, Flankarians, Tiki beings, rabbit-like folks from The Showstopper, Mr. and Mrs. Brittle, ornament beings from The Gift, the balloon man, Dragor the Distractible, Galactia, Veronicron and her husband Jim (the Neon Knight of Nalpraxis), Gelatinous Bob animatronic, Fleeblebort and Marsha and the two hillbilly families, flower-headed birds, any notable residents of Okeydokia, cloaked refugees from the end of The Secret Planet, Brad Starlight and his wife Remora having returned from their honeymoon, his cousin Chad, anyone I might have left out. Lastly, the hooded refugees, also from The Secret Planet.

DISCLAIMER: If these shorts should happen, some of the refugees mentioned here but not seen in The End of the Galaxy may or may not appear.

We can all relate to the refugees in some way. The refugees (most of them) have to wait for Wander and Sylvia to get them back home so they can go about their normal lives. At the start of S3, that’s where the Star Nomad, the ship allegedly made from the one that appeared in The Secret Planet, would come in. We have to wait for the COVID-19 pandemic to be over so we can go about our normal lives. Considering those who worked on the plans for S3 still haven’t given us more clues even in these difficult times, I think the time is right to make more people aware of WOY with this particular idea.

Of course, there is the matter of which medium to use. Animation will probably be time consuming, and much to the perpetual dismay of Wander fans, Disney still doesn’t want to pay to make more WOY. Heck, if there’s no time for animation, animatics might do. A much cheaper method might be the podcast - this way, no visual art has to be made. Hey, it worked for Futurama doing an audio episode titled “Radiorama,” not to mention The Loud House having a podcast titled “Listen Out Loud.” Then again, there’d have to be multiple voice actors reprising their roles, and I doubt they’d do it for free. In the case where visual art is needed, we could do what @suspendersofdisbelief and @benbalistreri did for Star Wanderer and make a comic version of the shorts with help from them and the other writers and illustrators, assuming they’re not too busy with their own projects. We don’t really need Disney’s permission to know exactly what’s supposed to happen after S2, do we?

Regardless of circumstances, I still think it’s a great idea, one @crackmccraigen and the crew could take into consideration whether or not Disney gives them a chance to properly close out the show after Kid Cosmic is done. After all, I am a Disney employee and the only one to come up with this particular idea as far as I know. The only question is, why didn’t anyone else in the fandom think of it before? Also, if @andydaly knew about my idea, maybe he’d be all for it, what with the country still in lockdown.

Look, many of us are still bummed WOY got canceled before S3 could get made, but moping about it and not doing anything to save it won’t get us anywhere. Formerly canceled shows like Hey Arnold!, Samurai Jack, and The Clone Wars got true closure, so I don’t see why WOY can’t do the same. If we all work together, we’ll make history.

To all you pessimists, cynics, and skeptics out there...

Hopelessness stops now.

[viktorrotkiv]

A Perfect Disaster of a Day

Written for @justwannabeafangirl​ as part of the @b99fandomevents​ Summer 2020 Fic Exchange.

Prompt: Stuck at work on a beautiful day

Read on AO3 // My Ko-fi

The first day of June was perfect. Amy woke up half an hour before her alarm clock was set to ring to find a bright, crisp morning waiting for her on the balcony, where she liked to start every morning. She pulled herself away from the view and into the kitchen, still drowsy, to make a pot of coffee. Pouring herself a cup, she stepped back outside, relishing the warmth. She wouldn’t need her robe around the house for the next few months - unless, of course, Jake decided to freeze them with the AC. Which, if she was being completely honest, she knew he would do. He would also get her a thousand new sweaters to make up for it. For now, though, she was perfectly content with the temperature. In fact, she took off the robe and folded it over the balcony railing. Leaning forward and sipping her coffee, she admired the view. It was incredible. She still couldn’t believe they had managed to score this amazing balcony in New York. Sun rays illuminated every tree, every street mural, every laughing couple in a window. A few clean-white clouds dotted the light blue sky, casting shadows here and there on the still-quiet street below. It was a beautiful day. It was perfect.

“Hey.” Jake stepped onto the balcony behind her. “Where’d you get that delicious-smelling coffee?”

Amy turned to smile at him. “Good morning.” She stepped forward and pressed a warm kiss to his lips, immediately feigning annoyance as he swiped the coffee cup from her hand. “Hey! Don’t steal mine. There’s a whole pot of fresh coffee inside.”

“No, I think I’ll just drink this instead. It’s right here, after all.”

Amy’s upset facade broke immediately and she laughed. Jake could always make her laugh, no matter what silly thing he had done right before. “We have to get out early today. This is the first day of Mac’s first real summer – last year he was too small to notice anything going on, I think. We have to take him to the park, feed the ducks, do cartwheels in the grass…”

“Neither of us can do a cartwheel, Ames. And I doubt our one-year-old can either.” Jake chuckled and slid his arms around her lower back, staring into her eyes. “But you’re right. You always are. We absolutely have to take advantage of this perfect summer day. We’ll tell the Captain we need to step out early, send the babysitter home early…” Jake rested his cheek on his wife’s head and closed his eyes, swaying them in place. “We’ll get ice cream… Teach Mac how to throw a ball… We’ll...”

After a moment of silence, Amy spoke, her voice muffled slightly by Jake’s chest. “Are you falling back asleep?”

“Absolutely. Wake me up in twenty minutes.”

Amy smiled and pulled back from Jake’s hold, laughing when he muttered something unintelligible and reached his arms out to her, eyes still closed. “We should actually go in early if we’re both awake already. Get a head start on the day.”

Jake opened his eyes and smiled at her sleepily. “You’re so smart. Now, where’s that whole pot of coffee you promised me?”

*

Their day at work also seemed to start off perfectly. The Captain had immediately given them permission to leave early.

“I don’t see why not,” Holt had smiled. “It is a beautiful day, you both have light case loads… Enjoy the afternoon with your son.”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Jake whispered in a sing-song voice as they were leaving Holt’s office.

Amy, grinning madly, shoved him playfully. “He’ll hear you! Now, listen. No trouble today, Jake. We have to leave early.”

“Oh, but of course, m’lady.” Jake made an exaggerated bow and kissed her hand. “Now go kick ass.”

Amy looked back at him and smiled as she left for her desk. ‘Love you,’ she mouthed.

*

At eleven a.m. it still didn’t look too bad.

Rosa slammed a cup of coffee on Jake’s desk. “Hey. I need a favor.”

Jake looked up at her, worried. “Amy and I are supposed to leave in two hours.”

“Oh, relax.” But her nudging the coffee even closer to Jake had the exact opposite effect. “It won’t take nearly that long.”

“If it’s so short, why are you bribing me?”

Rosa stared at him for a few seconds, then looked away. “I need you to interview someone who came in for one of my cases. It’s unscheduled, or I wouldn’t need you to do this for me, but I have a dentist appointment.”

“Okay, sure. What case is this for again?”

“Jake.”

“You’re kind of freaking me out here, Ro Ro.”

Rosa didn’t even object to the nickname. “Some guy is here to confess to kidnapping his baby niece.”

“Oof, depressing.”

“Yeah. You gonna be okay?”

“Are you kidding? Sounds juicy.”

“Jake.” Rosa stared squarely into his eyes. “Are you going to be okay… hearing about a kidnapped baby?”

Oh, thought Jake, a kidnapped baby. Out loud, he said, “I’m not fragile, just because of some stupid baby currently living in my house and feeding off of my wife’s boobs. And I’m deeply offended that you would think otherwise.”

“Fine.” A grin was on the verge of breaking through Rosa’s face. “Nobody said you were fragile, I just want to know that you can handle this.”

“Always. As long as he can talk fast.”

*

“Sergeant.”

“Hmm?” Amy didn’t look up. She was almost done looking over some paperwork, and the officers often needed her for something technical that required her rank. She was used to helping them while doing her own work.

“Sergeant. I, uh… I think I need your help.”

This made Amy look up. “What is it?”

The officer standing in front of her was relatively new. He had proven to be very competent on his own, so she pretty much left him to his own devices. He hadn’t attracted much negative or positive attention, and she didn’t know him that well. “I’m sorry if this is inappropriate, but you, uh, you smoke, right?”

“Occasionally.” Amy put down her paperwork and smiled at him. “Calm down, Miller. You can be open with me. What is it?”

“I think I have a problem. I smoke, like, all the time now. It’s pretty much sure to ruin my lungs if I keep going like this for another few years.” The officer chuckled. “I mean, I guess smoking always is. And, uh, most addiction books and— and help groups don’t work for me. I need someone to hold me accountable, someone who knows me personally. And I can’t really ask my family, they live in Pennsylvania, and my roommate has some addictions that are much worse than cigarettes...” He chuckled again and wrung his hands nervously. “I know I’m rambling on and on, but I’ve heard you mention using nicotine stickers, so I know you’ve stopped smoking, and I’d like your help.”

“You want me to help you quit smoking? As in, be your mentor?”

“I’m sorry if it’s inappropriate. This was a stupid idea, I just thought—”

“No!” Amy jumped up. “It’s not inappropriate at all. I’d be honored.”

“Really?” Tim Miller’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Come talk to me tomorrow. I’ll do some research, and we can test out some methods.”

“Thank you, again, so much.”

Amy smiled. Mmm, research… “Of course.”

*

At twelve p.m. it started getting worse.

“Wait, say that again.” Jake could already see their perfect day slipping away. If this case was that serious... It could take forever.

“I’ve decided to come forward because my brother is not a competent parent. That’s why I took my niece to my house. She wasn’t safe there.” They were sitting in an interrogation room. Mr. Thomas had asked to talk privately.

“Sir, can you please elaborate? Why wasn’t she safe?”

“My, uh, my brother drinks, and he forgets to bathe her, sometimes even to feed her. When she cries he either sits her in front of the TV for hours, or he calls me. Her mom’s not in the picture, so it’s just him and the baby, and I’m scared…” The man sighed, put his head in his hands. “My brother isn’t a bad person. He just isn’t a very good parent, and my niece’s safety is more important than anything else.”

Jake leaned forward across the desk. “It’s okay, I understand. You have to do this. And maybe someday your brother will understand too. Right now, though, we need your full cooperation.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have to call social services. Since you came to us and reported this, and because you have experience with the child, I can recommend that you be given custody. Only if you want that, of course.”

“Yes, that— that’d be good, I think.”

Jake reached over and put his hand over Mr. Thomas’s. “Good. But this means that you can’t back out. You need to tell us, and social services, everything you know. You can’t step away because you feel guilty or you start getting worried, because then this won’t work, and your brother could take your niece back and never let you see her again.”

“I know. I know. I’m prepared to do whatever’s necessary.”

“Okay then. Let’s take your statement.”

*

“Santiago, could you send me that report?”

“Sir?”

“I know it wasn’t due until tomorrow, but I’m sure you of all people already finished it.” Holt had called her into his office, and Amy was starting to panic.

“Actually, sir, I’ve been dealing with a personal matter of one of my officers, and I haven’t had time to finish the report. I was going to do it first thing tomorrow morning.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to finish it today. The system’s going to be down for a week starting tomorrow and we won’t be able to log any new reports. They only just told me.”

“Oh.” Amy’s chest constricted uncomfortably. Their perfect day… “Alright, sir. I’ll get right to it.”

“Again, I apologize. I hope it won’t keep you too long.”

*

At one p.m. Jake was starting to regain hope.

“Rosa!” Jake almost pushed people aside in his hurry to get to her. Rosa was just back from her appointment, and Jake was rushing across the bullpen. He slid to a stop just outside the elevator and started walking back with her to her desk. “Wow, I’m out of shape… Boy, am I glad you’re here.”

Rosa cocked an eyebrow at him.

“You have to take your case back. It turned a bit complicated, he wanted to report his brother, and I promised Amy we would leave now to take Mac to the park.”

“Oh, sure. Just— what did he want to report?”

“He thinks his brother is an incompetent parent. Social services need to be involved. Oh, and I told him we would recommend him to be the guardian, so you have to say that.”

“I can do that.”

“Great. I took his statement. Someone from social services is on their way here to talk to him now, then to see the baby, and then they’ll go see the brother.”

“Wait, Jake, you already called them?”

“Of course. It was urgent. But this case is all yours now.”

“Actually…” Rose dug her nails into her palm, dreading the news she was about to give. “Actually, if you’re the one who called social services, you have to stay here until they arrive and take over.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s protocol. And you know how Holt is about those.”

“But— but, Rosa, they said they’d be here in a couple of hours.”

“I know.”

“I have to leave right now!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

*

Amy tried to concentrate on the work, but she felt too guilty. She had promised Jake that they would leave early, and here she was, stuck writing a report that would take at least a couple more hours. And, oh God, she hadn’t told him yet. She stood up so suddenly that at least three different people turned sharply to look at her. Muttering a general apology to the room, Amy pulled out her phone, sent a quick text, and marched toward Jake’s desk.

“Hey, Ames!” In her state of worry mixed with determination, she had almost walked right past the person she was looking for. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, but I need to talk to you about something.”

“Actually, me too—” He was interrupted by both their phones chiming. “Why did I just get a text from our babysitter that says, ‘LOL, don’t mind, you guys are the best parents’?”

“Not sure, but so did I. I actually just texted her to say we won’t be early after all, that’s what I came to talk to you about. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Amy, you’re confused. I texted our babysitter to say we won’t be early after all. I’m not allowed to leave yet.”

“Oh.” Some of the worry left Amy’s face and she actually smiled a little.

“Guess that’s what made her laugh.” At her confused look, he added, “You know, why she texted us LOL.”

“Oh, that’s what LOL stands for? I thought it was ‘lots of love’.”

“Amy Santiago!” Jake threw his arms wide open. “How old are you?”

“I’m joking, Jake, relax. So, why can’t you leave yet?”

“Rosa asked me to take someone’s statement because she had to go to the dentist—”

“—there’s no way that’s actually where she was going—”

“—obviously not, and turns out this guy took his baby niece because he thinks her father isn’t fit to be a parent. So I called social services, but apparently I’m not allowed to leave until they get here.”

“Yeah. Holt would make you adhere to the protocol.”

“Unfortunately. So why do you have to stick around?”

“I promised one of my officers I would help him quit smoking.” Amy sighed. “And then I did research for that instead of writing a report that was due tomorrow, but now it turns out we need to log it in today.”

“Oh, I heard, they’re taking down the system tomorrow.”

“Yep.” Another sigh. “Guess we won’t get our perfect day today, then, huh?”

Jake put his arms around her. “Guess not. But there’ll be plenty more sunny days. It’s only the beginning of summer.”

*

The social services representative arrived at two p.m.

Jake rushed up to the man and threw his arms around the stranger. “Finally! What took you so long?”

The representative nudged him off with a questioning look. “We have other work. You said the child wasn’t in any immediate danger.”

“She isn’t. She’s at home with her aunt. Speaking of which, here’s the aunt’s husband — actually, he’s the one who’s biologically related to the baby — and he can explain everything. I’m going to go now, if that’s okay with you.”

“Actually, if you’re Jake Peralta, there’s a few things to go over first.”

Jake groaned and slumped forward. “That was more a figure of speech. I was hoping I wouldn't really need your permission. What do you need me for?”

“I just need to make sure we have all of the details we need, and then I can officially take over the investigation.”

Jake spotted someone coming out of the kitchen. “Actually, she’s the one who called you! That’s Jake Peralta right there.”

“Yep, that’s me, Jake Peralta.” Rosa’s imitation of Jake’s voice was as terrible as can be expected.

The representative, tired and bored, wasn’t buying any of it. “Detective, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to come with me. You too, Mr. Thomas.”

A hopeful Mr. Thomas and a frustrated Detective Peralta followed the social services representative back into the interrogation room.

*

At four p.m. Amy finally finished typing her report. At four-oh-five she knocked on Captain Holt’s door. “Sir, I’m finally finished with that report. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“Thank you, Santiago. I’m sorry your day was hijacked, but you can go home now. I heard your husband is done with his work too.”

“Oh, the representative left?”

“On his way to look at the child now.” Holt looked at his watch. “You know, you could still have a little bit of fun. Sunset isn’t until eight twenty-one p.m.”

“I don’t know, sir. I think we’re both exhausted. Maybe we’ll try again next week.”

“I will not have any of that nonsense.”

“Sir?”

Holt slapped both his palms onto his desk and stood up. “Do you know why I was so eager to approve your request to leave early? It was partly because you are both excellent at your jobs and have enough vacation days left. It is also because I recently took a vacation with Kevin and it was the most fun I have had in months. It’s important to spend time with your partner, and certainly with your child. You are both extremely willing to help others—”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I wasn’t done, Santiago. You are both extremely willing to help your co-workers and you might get held up at work every other time you try to leave early. Look at what happened today! You were trying to do your job as a sergeant, and Peralta was trying to help Diaz, and you missed out on some of your plans. But there is still time today. Take advantage of the few hours left, because you don’t know when the next perfect day will appear.”

Amy staggered back a few steps, reeling from the Captain’s surprisingly passionate speech. “Thank you very much, sir. That was just the push I needed. You’re right. I’ll go find Jake right away.”

“Of course I’m right. Get out of here.”

Amy turned and started to leave.

“Oh, and Santiago?” Holt was actually smiling, for the second time that day. “Have a hell of a time, for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

*

At four-fifteen p.m., Jake was packing his things to leave. As he picked up his jacket and bag and went to find his wife, she rushed up to him. “Come on. Let’s go. Here, give me your jacket.”

“Um, sure. I’m sorry that we didn’t get to have our fun day. If only I hadn’t called social services on my own…”

“This wasn’t your fault. I wasn’t ready to leave at one, either. And your thing was even more important than mine.” Amy pressed the elevator button. “It doesn’t matter now. We’re going to go home, pick Mac up, and ride the subway to Central Park. You know how he loves the subway.”

Jake smiled faintly. “I do. But, Ames, I thought we gave up on our day. It’s too late now, we won’t get anything done. We’ll just have to find another day.” The elevator dinged open and Jake held his arm out in front of the door. “After you.”

“Thank you.” Amy stepped inside and pressed the ground floor button, turning toward Jake. “There are four hours and…” She checked her watch. “Four more minutes until the sun sets. And there’s light even after that. We’re going to eat ice cream, and buy a cheap inflatable ball that’ll lose all of its air tomorrow, and play catch with our son. It may not be half a day, but come on, we only lost a few hours.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Ames, really, but I had kind of a depressing case today, especially since the stupid social services man made me listen to all of the details twice, and I think I just need to go home. We’ll have our fun day soon, I promise.” Jake stepped out of the elevator, but Amy stayed inside.

“Captain’s orders.”

“What?” Jake stepped toward her and held the elevator doors open again.

“Captain’s orders. And I quote, ‘Have a hell of a time for me, Santiago.’”

“He did not say that!”

“He did. And I’m not leaving this elevator until you agree to use whatever time we have left to bond with our son.”

“Okay, now you’re just being mean. You know father-son bonding is one of my triggers!” Jake’s mood was starting to lift, though. Amy could see it.

“I do know that, because I know everything about you. Which is why…” Amy walked to Jake, cupping his face gently. “I also know that this will be good for you.”

“I thought you weren’t getting out of the elevator until I agreed to go.” Jake pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“You never really had a choice. Also, I’ve made my point and now I’m stepping out of the elevator.”

“You feel guilty about holding it up, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Amy pulled Jake’s arm around her shoulder.”Let’s go.”

*

“Oh, I’m so glad you guys are still going to have a bit of fun today!” Their babysitter gushed when they finally arrived home. “Mac has been missing you guys ever since you went back to work.”

“Aww, come here, buddy!” Jake picked his son up. “You know, you’re going to feed ducks today, and watch your mom fail miserably at doing a cartwheel.”

“Actually, you’re going to watch your dad fail miserably at doing a cartwheel. Thanks, Becca, here’s your money.”

“Oh, thanks. It’s so beautiful out there. It really is the perfect day to go outside.” The babysitter waved at Mac and started to leave.

“Well, it may not have been a perfect day the whole way through, but we’re going to have lots of fun, aren’t we, Ames?”

“Absolutely.”

The door shut behind Becca, who couldn’t help but smile at how adorable her employers were, and inside, a small family was about to start a perfect day, outside of work.

[doof-doofblog]

"You Might Aswell Just Come Out!"

Thursday 10th September

Good evening again everyone! Hope your day has been a good one - whether you've been relaxing at home or whether you've been out and working, hope it's been a good day for you all! We are back again with another episode tonight, we know Tuesday's episode ended with Chantelle dropping the bombshell on Kheerat that she is planning on leaving Gray the very next day!! Clearly something is going to stop Chantelle in her tracks, but what?!

Let's delve right into it! The episode starts with Ian waking up in the Vic, Sharon has only gone and made him a full English Breakfast!! The absolute works! I can still sense the flicker of guilt from him - he doesn't really deserve the Vic or the appreciation that Sharon is giving him. She thanks him for looking after both her and her baby boy, saying how she feels like a princess each time he's ran out to get groceries for her! He's there giving her a smile, even though it looks a bit forced! It's as if everything with Dotty has been forgotten about, Sharon hasn't even begun to even suspect for once that Dotty could be telling the truth. It's only going to hit her harder when she realises.

Across the Square, it looks as if Gray is finally heading back to work. Chantelle is stood behind the counter looking nervous and scared to even talk or move. It's the day she's planning on leaving her husband for good! Before he leaves he asks her whether she has her phone, he demands her to keep it with her, oh you know, just in case! She asks him softly on what time he'll return, she tells him she'll have dinner ready. Is this so she can time it right for her to get away before he gets back? So if what I'm thinking is right - she has until 1 o'clock to get away! As he leaves the house she grabs her phone and makes a call, it sounds as if she's making an enquiry about an apartment or house of some kind that she can stay in? During the phone conversation she looks down at her ring, is she going to pawn her jewellery just so she'll be able to afford it?!

In the Market, Mick bumps into Tina - I'm sure they probably haven't seen each other since lock-down. I'm unsure where Mick and Linda are staying right now but it sounds as if they're all settled in their new home. Linda is doing well to stay sober also, the only downside is that Mick is struggling to find a job, with him being Landlord of the Queen Vic for a good few years, it's probably been hard for him to find something he's qualified for - as he explains to Tina, he's had 4 interviews but not got the job in any of them because he's overqualified! Luckily, Tina decides to give him a permanent position at The Albert. I don't know about you guys but it feels so weird seeing both Mick and Linda looking for jobs in the Square now, they've been a part of the Queen Vic for so long, it's weird not seeing them behind that bar! It's true they're already popular within their neighbourhood and community, I'm sure they'll have plenty of people rallying round them if they needed any help.

In the Mitchell household, Ben still has his little package in his pocket ready to give to Callum. Oh bless! He's all excited and ready to go the seaside to listen to the seagulls with his partner, only Callum refuses to go. I feel sorry for Ben at this moment in time, as he has no idea what Callum has found. He's been struggling to come to terms with the fact that he could potentially lose all his hearing, until yesterday when he had the implant and it was the first time in weeks that he heard Callum's voice! He explains to his boyfriend that that was one of the biggest days of his life and he's disappointed that Callum doesn't seem to care. Only we know, that Callum knows that Ben has been lying to him. It's kinda sad to watch because all Ben is wanting to hear, is Callum tell him that he loves him. Of course Callum wouldn't deny that he doesn't love Ben, but knowing that he's plainly lying to his face is just getting him more and more angry. Why won't Ben tell him the truth? To save him the upset possibly? To not come between him and his job? Who knows? But when Callum decides to bring Danny Hardcastle up, once again Ben lies to his boyfriend and says he's not seen him since that incident at Ruby's. Callum scoffs in disbelief that once again his boyfriend has lied to him, he leaves the conversation before anything else can be said.

The next time we see Chantelle it looks as if she's leaving the pawn shop, Karen approaches her excitedly saying how much she has missed her and the kids. Did any one else notice that Chantelle was fidgeting with her sleeves? Like she was trying to cover up her hands so her Mum wouldn't see that she's not wearing her ring?! Chantelle tries to dash as she uses the excuse she needs to take the children to the dentist. As Karen begins to leave, Chantelle then calls to her Mum that she'll bring the kids round to see her, as she's missed them so much. Plus with Chantelle's plan on leaving, she'll know she'll never forgive herself if her Mum and Dad didn't get the chance to say goodbye to their grandchildren. Only will this cause her to run late and corrupt her plan to get away?!

Ha! Sorry I just need to applaud Dotty for messing with Ian's head! She is brilliant! She actually made him believe that Sharon loves him! Did you see that little smile appear on his face after she walked away?! He actually believed her! Sharon has always said from the beginning that she and Ian are just close friends. Ian has only been "her rock" the past few months out of guilt. She fell apart after Dennis died, he took her in and looked after her and her baby son, and also as a massive gesture - bought her the Queen Vic! And since lock-down he has been living with her and Albie, as Dotty says - in the hopes of things actually getting more romantic and intimate between them. I think it's no secret that Ian has always held a bit of torch for Sharon, they've been close friends for years but I think deep down he has always truly loved her. As for Sharon, she's never seen Ian as anything else other than a close friend, she's never had any romantic feeling towards him - ever! So why the hell should she start now?! I love that Dotty has used this information to her advantage, Ian is only going to make another fool of himself!

Meanwhile, at the Taylor's, Chantelle is visiting her parents. As she sits down and listens to Karen talking about much she is missing Chatham and Riley, also Keegan and Tiffany now they've moved out, Chantelle is looking round and looking at all the family photos. I think she feels this will be the last time in a while that she'll get to see her Mum and Dad, so she's taking everything in. She turns to her Mum and tells her how much she loves her, and how much she loves her family and her parents. I'm sure deep down inside it is killing her knowing she'll be fleeing in a few hours. I just hope she would tell her parents exactly what was happening and why she has to leave. Just for a split moment when Mitch was going to hand her some money, I thought she might've said something then ... she slightly hesitated, did anyone else notice?  She decides to decline her Dad's offer of the money and says to him that Keegan would need it more, she takes one last look at her parents and softly says goodbye to them, not a thought in their mind aware of what she's about to do!

Ooooh look! Frankie's back! It's nice to see her making more of an appearance on the Square! It looks as if Kathy has given her a job at The Albert! Ooops - only to find that Tina has also hired Mick! #Awkward! ... In the recent new trailer that was released, it showed Frankie taking pictures of little Ollie. Does she have some kind of connection to the Carter's? Why would she be taking pictures of Ollie?! I'm looking forward to seeing more of Frankie and what could be her story-line involving the Carter's. I know Frankie was meant to have a story-line with Ben, I kinda have a feeling we haven't seen that yet? Only she was introduced to him by Callum, are we going to see something more from that side of things? Is Frankie going to show Ben the deaf community and how it all works, even though he's slowly getting his hearing back, it would enlighten Ben I think. Poor Mick, he decides to let Frankie have the job at The Albert, but as he leaves you can see the look of disappointment on his face, another job he's potentially lost? Will he be able to find something?

Back at Vic, Linda is having a lovely catch up with her best friend, Sharon. To be honest, it's lovely to see these two having a nice catch up and a chat the way they are. Obviously the roles have reversed with now Sharon behind the bar and Linda sat as a punter - but I watch them and I can't help but think it's so real how they've done it. With the whole social-distancing aspect in place, Sharon is behind the bar and Linda is sat at her table ... I think that whole scene was brilliant and it just felt very realistic. I loved how Ian was eavesdropping on their conversation, Sharon complimenting him on how amazing he's been to her though-out lock-down. He is going to high jump to conclusions! I love how they both laugh at the thought of both herself and Ian being an item, little does the poor man know how humiliated he's going to be!

Does anyone else seem to understand what Vinny and Ruby are up to? I kinda didn't understand that moment, to my understanding Ruby doesn't have insurance for the club? Am I right in thinking that? So Vinny is going to help her in some way - saying she's needs cash or something? I am so confused with this one! Vinny is seen loitering, waiting - for what looks like - Ruby to come out the club, she previously told him the club would be empty with cash in the safe! Is going to try and get that money for something or someone?

Awww and Chantelle looks as if she's ready to flee, she waiting for children, calling for them to hurry. Kheerat approaches her and pleads for her to tell him where she's going. Little does Chantelle that from across the road, Gray is watching her from his car. Watching as Kheerat and Chantelle have their little quick discussion, the look on Chantelle's face is utter fear as Gray makes himself known, Kheerat backs away and Gray reminds her that he didn't want Kheerat talking to her. I really feel for Chantelle right now, she almost got away. She was almost out of his grasp, as they walk into the house - Kheerat watches from a distance, catching Chantelle's eyes and Gray's. I am so sure that Kheerat's going to suss Gray out, he's going to find out exactly what's been happening! The BIG question is - will it be too late before he does?!

Back at The Albert, Ben finally catches up with Callum. He joins him at the table and apologises. He seems to think that Callum is upset because of Danny, but to what extent and why. It's only when Callum reveals that he'd figured out that he'd been lied to for months! He questions him why and what it means for their relationship. Ben claims it's literally because he's joined the police force and nothing else, but then again - it shouldn't matter what Callum's job was, he still should've told him the truth. He claims he was trying to protect him, protect him from what though? Protect his job? Protect his safety? The seriousness of the situation really hits home for Ben when he realises that he's been seen on CCTV! What does this mean for Ben and the Mitchell's? How is Callum going to be able to ignore it?

The following scene, Chantelle is back in her bathroom trying to find a hiding place for the money. She decides to put it in a make-up bag and hide it in the toilet, Gray shouts out for her as she makes herself look busy in the bathroom. Of course the first thing Gray notices, he engagement ring is missing! Oh shit! How is she going to be able to explain that one?! Perhaps say it's gone down the drain something?

Oh gosh this is really cringe-worthy isn't it! Ian trying to find the words to say to Sharon how he feels about her. How many women has he claimed to love on this soap?! Sharon seems to think there's something wrong with Albie, but he decides to jump right in the deep end and pour his heart out to her. Oh and I can see how awkward this is making Sharon feel, an awkward smile on her face, a nervous giggle, twiddling her fingers ... he tells her he loves her and even claims to know that she feels exactly the same way about him ... only when she explains to him that she doesn't, you can see his face drop in dismay. He's clearly realised he's made a huge mistake and has made himself look a fool. What's going to happen now between them? I don't think they'd be able to live together now things have been made to feel awkward between them. Will Ian move out and back in with his Mum while Sharon stays at The Vic?! Will Ian realise that it was Dotty who was playing with his mind?

Okay, so the last scene of tonight's episode, Vinny is seen sneaking out of Ruby's club, carrying a hefty looking bag ... Martin clicks on as to where he came from and begins to give chase. Has Vinny nicked all the money that was in the club's safe?!  Vinny heads to the back entrance of the Minute Mart, Martin slowly closing in ... he calls for him and slowly enters the shop, looking in all the nooks and cranny's. Only Vinny appears from behind and bashes him over the head with a fire extinguisher. Martin is left lying unconscious! What the hell has he done?! and why did he attack Martin in such a way?! Why does Vinny need the money? Was he getting the money for Kheerat as a favour?! Will Martin be okay?!

Once again folks, i'm deeply sorry for this post being posted late! Unfortunately it may take me a few days to write up about tomorrow's episode as i'm going to be away from my laptop/computer for about 3/4 days. But I promise I will be up to date as soon as I can. I hope you all have a fantastic weekend! Thank you all so much for taking your time to read my blog, I know the posts can be long but I just want you to know I appreciate it immensely! Thanks again folks! xXx

[drunknihilist]

How’s My Life? I don’t know I Never Really Had One.

I was born in 1990, from 93 to 98 I was raised middle class in the country. Anything I wanted my dad bought it for me because he worked at Goodyear. My mother turned my word upside down from 98 to 2002 when she told me he wasn’t my real father and she was divorcing him. She wound up cheating on him and moving me in with an alcoholic former marine that locked me in a walk in closet for 4 years and for 3 of them when he wasn’t beating me I was his boyfriend and he never worked. 

If I chewed my fingernails he beat me. If I didn't turn the light switch off before I left a room he beat me. If he caught me trying to sneak food out of the fridge he beat me. He shattered a flashlight over my head for bringing home a bad report card in front of my mother. He gave me a handjob with my pants on while my mom was sitting in front of me a few times and even though she looked me in my eyes she didn't say a word just kept watching television. He made me read porn magazines and watch pornographic films with him since I was 9 years old. He would make me hold his cock when he went to the bathroom to take a piss. I would wake up to him in the middle of the night having sex with me so I start sticking objects inside of myself thinking that if I stretched out the area that maybe I would be able to handle it more easier. There were even times where I would feel unusually tired between 5-7 in the evening which was around the same time he was taking me on these gun shooting trips with a man named George Reynolds and I have my suspicions that he was giving me drugs and letting him have sex with me when I was passed out. He stuck loaded guns to my head threatening to kill me if I told any of my teachers about it. So I was kept in solitary confinement and fed one or two meals a day to keep me alive so they could get my SSI check in the mail to buy beer with it.

I spent my 8th grade year living at my grandmothers house away from all the abuse and I actually made the honor roll. So my mom leaves him and meets my little brothers dad and talks me into moving in with her again and I spend 03 to 06 repeatedly getting grounded while his family bullied and beat me so they could get my SSI check in the mail and buy more beer with it. To make matters worse when we had to move out of a place in west logan his daughters left my belongings on the property after they moved their stuff out and the property owner threw all of my stuff in the garbage. The only thing I had to my name was the clothes on my back and I didn't even know that it happened until my mother called me and told me about it.

Then I told my grandmother I had enough and I want to move in with her she welcomed me with open arms. I actually went to the dentist for once because my mother never took me in the past ten years and I figured out I had 11 cavities in my mouth. I didn’t know how to interact socially around people so the friends that I did manage to make became a second family to me. So from 06 to 08 I was more focused having a social life and having two short term relationships than I was on my school work so I barely even graduated high school.

A woman that I wanted to marry that I spent 9 months with off and on and I lost my virginity to told me to meet her across town so that she could go back to my grandmothers house to meet my uncle in the basement for a quickie out of revenge for me breaking up with her multiple times and only got caught because my step sister walked in on the two of them so I spent the end of 08 to 2010 getting a lot of casual encounters out of my system trying to forget about her but nothing made me feel better.

From 2010 to 2012 I tried to get a job but I have had such an emotionless thousand yard stare that it was like trying to give a job interview to a robot. So when nobody would hire me a friend of mine named David was paying me a little bit of money working and training me as an contractor plus I also got a second job because a man name Charles who was running a business in the back of his place said that he needed a second locksmith. My grandmother kept getting sick so I began to spend more time taking care of her than I was showing up where I needed to be. David replaced me with another coworker and they ended up opening their own business and Charles ended up relocating out of state.

Here I am 22 years old I’m broke and I have to be a caregiver to my grandmother. Boy I could really use a friend, but as months went by nobody called me, texted me, came by the house. It got to where I was so depressed I checked myself into a mental health facility for a week to try to cope with my situation. Then when I got home I decided I love my grandmother dearly but I need to leave this town. I ended up leaving early in the morning to catch a bus and my grandmother talked to me on the phone thinking that I was a son of a bitch and she doesn't have anyone that's going to take care of her. So I had family who lived in a different state that took me in and I got a job working as a telemarketer. My uncle back home ends his own life and none of my family is helping my grandmother with emotional support so I have to move back for over half a year. I go back out of state again and another uncle gets me a job working as a maintenance man. However he cannot stop his addiction to pain pills so whenever he got done blowing his paycheck he was always wanting me to give him most of mine. Then one day I put my foot down and said I’m not doing this for you anymore and he told lies to my boss and got me fired.

I got a job working as a caregiver under the table for a lady who lived across the street from me because all of her family was thousands of miles away. So 400 dollars a month was a lot better to me than nothing. And at this point I was taking turns being a caregiver for my neighbor, grandmother and the aunt I was living with. My aunt has MS and I had two cousins that were in their mid to late 30's that never lifted a finger to do dishes or clean house I was stuck doing all the house work for free and whenever I am not in Logan and I'm back home I'm still expected to do it.

I have to regularly travel back and forth to my grandmothers house because whenever I call her she says she doesn’t eat for days sometimes because even though my mom lives in the house directly behind her she cannot come over and cook 2-3 times a day. It’s not like my mother works because now that she is single she keeps my little brother in the house just like she did to me most of my life while she plays games and spends his SSI money. I can barely afford to put shoes on my feet and my grandmothers pet cat sat on top of a new laptop and soaked it in piss and she said that it was my fault because I didn't lock the door when I went to sleep. So I went back home and didn't wanna talk to her for a few weeks out of anger.

My real father comes back into my life in 2017 and a year later he actually gets me a job working with him for the mayor of a small town near Columbus renovating rental properties. I find out mom cheated on him with the man that worked at Goodyear. The mayor pays me 200 dollars for a week of work and I thought if this is the rate I’m starting out I’m just gonna move up here. So I worked with him for over a month but I was still calling my grandmother twice a week just to see how she is doing. I try to call one day I never got an answer so then I tried again the next day and a nurse answers the phone and tells me she almost died.

I told my father I need to go back and be with her so when I got back my mother said she was gonna pay me 50 bucks to help my grandmother get situated inside of a nursing home facility. I said ok when I get done with this dad can just pick me up and take me back when all of this is finished. Not only was I lied to but my grandmother fell and fractured one of her bones and had to lay starving in her own piss and shit for 3 days before any of my family bothered to come over and check on her. She only spent one day in the nursing home before she started crying and screaming she wanted to go home. I wound up having to spend 2 months living at her house again changing her depends cooking all her meals the whole nine yards. Funny thing was when me my aunt and my mom went to pick her back up from the nursing home they had a good laugh after making the comment that they should have just let the crabby old bitch walk back home with her depends around her ankles holding onto a walker.

Here I am 30 years old all of my teeth are rotten and I don’t have any money for a dentist. I have never been able to stay on one job long enough to even know the first thing about paying income taxes because my aunt and my grandmother take turns crying over the phone that nobody is taking care of them. I would rather sleep under a bridge than go on welfare. I have never owned a car or got a stimulus check. I have never had my own place and I have never owned a smartphone. And all my family can do is sit around and laugh at me when I'm not around and call me a loser, meanwhile their kids are going to college and are living out on their own, but if it was any of them dealing with this they would have put my grandmother away a long time ago. It’s like as long as she is my problem they don’t have to deal with her but the minute they hear she’s too sick to eat or doesn’t feel well they would be the same people to jump on the phone yelling, “WHY HAVENT YOU MADE HER NOTHING TO EAT!” I am not a danger to myself or anyone around me.

My father has not been back to see me or even call me because every single time he shows up my family asks him if he has any money, I have no friends and I have anxiety attacks that keep me from sleeping at night because I know I’m going to die homeless under a bridge because I’m at that age that nobody is going to want to hire me anymore. I do little jobs here and there so I can buy some vodka and cranberry juice so it’s easier to go to sleep at night. For the past two weeks yet again here I am at my grandmothers house. She goes through 3 pairs of pants a day because of bladder problems I have to change her depends 7-8 times a day. I have to comb her hair take her phone calls do her cooking. Sometimes I don’t sleep for 2 days straight just so I can sleep on the third day to be up early enough to help her to the bathroom.

Again I’m 30 years old but it’s like I spent 17 years of my life in jail for a crime that I didn’t commit. And I told my grandmothers caseworker back when I was 23 years old that people I've tried to talk to over the years have told me that I can get paid for the work that I'm doing with her and all she said to me was that I would interfere with the income she was getting from the government so she can't do it. My mom doesn't own a car and she lied about being disabled so she could live off of her children’s SSI and my grandmother doesn't know how to read or write and has never owned a car but got pregnant 8  times so she could live off their SSI and my grandfather could use it to get drunk with. My family does like the remind me though that because I don't believe in God that I'm going to go to hell. Scientists have long since proven that dinosaurs existed millions of years before humans. I finally understood that the enlightenment that the Buddha was talking about was actually another word for nihilism. I suppose I understand letting go of material possessions and not causing suffering to other living creatures. Nihilism for me is like Buddhism except I am still a meat eater. I think people who are vegan do not understand that if these animals were not in such a demand that they are then they would go away just like the rest of the other species we've had a hand in wiping out as we let our population grow larger and larger.

I love my 84yo grandmother very much and she tells me she loves me and my mother has not told me she loved me in over 22 years. And I'd like to think that I'm finally going to be free to be by myself and make my own choices for once by the time that my grandmother is dead. But I know all that is going to happen is I'm going to be one of those 40yo men that stand on the street begging people for spare change. Till one day a cousin of mine is gone drive up in a new car laughing at me telling me I should have went to college. It's February 2021, I got a birthday coming up in 4 month, I have never been to jail one day in my life, I have no criminal record of any kind. I've just always been this dog that gets is chain tugged on and I bark.

The only thing that the world has taught me is people only have time for you as long as it is convenient for them and even when they appear genuine I always wonder if everything coming out of their mouth is a fucking lie. I have fantasies about picking up the pieces that Hitler left behind after he shot himself in the head only I do not believe in a master race. I feel betrayed by my own empathy for other human beings, I don't care what color they are, they are destructive selfish semi evolved primates that are too brainwashed by their own bullshit to accept the fact that money is their God. And just because there are children across America dying in the hospital from cancer that doesn't mean that when they die they got a heaven to go to. 

After all those days trapped in my room when I was a child barely even weighing 90 pounds I never thought for one minute I was gonna grow up to be a loser. Lol if any of my family read this they would just say that if I was so damn miserable why didn't I just get out? Oh cool so that means you're gonna move her into your house? No??? Does that mean you're gonna help her with all of her daily activities so she doesn't cry to me on the phone every couple of days that she's not getting any help and all her home heath aides do is do dishes and sit on their ass? No??? Ok then what kind of Christmas card did you pick out for me this year? Whoever said we were getting you one, you need to get a job you damn loser. And it's actually worse now because they stopped all of her home heath aides last year because my mother gave her bed bugs and she didn't want to say anything about it.

I feel like a human trafficking victim with stockholm syndrome but when I look up what a caregiver is it actually says work without pay right in the description so it's not like I can take anyone for lost wages. I've never even got a present for my birthday party or for Christmas since I was 7 years old and the only time I do is when my grandmother gives me some money so I can put some new shoes on my feet or get a new coat to wear.

But I'm a man I'm not supposed to talk about my feelings I need to suck it up.

[ptrparkcrs]

& you say rise above (self-para)

summary: peter meets an old friend in an unexpected place and faces dire consequences word count: 3002 trigger warnings: violence, injury, death mention, spider-man cops (completely useless, but existent)

It was ten seventeen PM. He had been at work late, probably too late, troubleshooting something small and nitpicky that even he barely understood. At least there was always food somewhere in the building, and FRIDAY liked him enough to not yell at him when he stole a second donut, or a third, or when he ordered an extra-large pizza on Tony Stark’s credit card. As long as he didn’t leave his workspace too greasy and saved some leftovers for Tony, he’d probably be fine.

Whatever it was he had been supposed to be working on, clean energy or artificial intelligence or consumer goods or fancy sunglasses, it probably wasn’t supposed to have been reconstructing the lenses of Spider-Man’s mask to better conform to his facial expressions, but Peter had had to do some repairs after Gabby had torn the thing to shreds. If Tony caught him sewing on the clock, what was he going to do? Let Spider-Man go without a mask? Put Peter’s life at risk? No, he’d be fine. He’d been too antsy to focus on real work, his ribs still healing, his face still a little tender. He’d needed a concrete physical distraction and the satisfaction of knowing he was fixing something.

(He’d be totally fine in a day or two; he was almost there, but Gabby had done a pretty solid number on him. Broken ribs, a black eye, scabs where the pavement had rubbed his chin raw, the whole shebang. He told everyone it was a bike accident, even though he didn’t own a bike, because nearly beaten to death by a chemically ramped-up teenager wasn’t something that could realistically have happened to completely normal, non-superhero guy Peter Parker. In retrospect, he should have said he’d crashed his skateboard into a taxi again, which he had done more than once in high school, but hindsight was 20/20.) 

Still, the time spent on the mask during the day had meant a pile of unfinished work, which had meant staying at the tower later. Peter knew that, as best as he’d tried not to be, he was a nepotism hire. He’d waltzed into Stark industries with little training and few qualifications, and he was determined to prove that he was just as suited to be here as anyone else. Yeah, he’d had the internship, but he’d gotten that through sheer dumb luck and minor internet fame, and he and Tony both knew it had been a cover, anyway. Yeah, he had a college degree, but most of his actual work experience had been mediocre photography for a vaguely predatory, second-rate newspaper. He’d been a child prodigy, sure, but last he’d checked most child prodigies peaked sometime around high school, and building the Spider-Man suit for personal gain wasn’t about to go on his resume. He knew any interview process he’d gone through had been performative; he knew that the job had been his no matter what, so long as he hadn’t actually blown up the company. He didn’t want Tony to regret his decision, and he really did want to keep his job. That meant actually doing his work, even if he did have to stay long past dark.

So he’d finally finished—the work and the mask—and headed home to find Sandwich demanding a second dinner and a walk. Fine. Okay. He could do that.

“All you’ve got going for you is your body, bud,” he said. “Don’t know why you’re so determined to ruin that.” Sandwich was beautiful, in a scraggly rescue dog kind of way (Aunt May said he looked like the dog from Annie, which was probably a compliment), but he was also dumb as a rock. He put a few treats in the bowl anyway and went to find a leash.

As he dug through the storage cube where he was sure he’d left the good collar, Peter heard sirens. They sounded close, maybe a few blocks away, and getting closer. His police scanner was on his nightstand, but there wasn’t time to check. Sirens were as good a cue as any.

“I’ll be back soon,” he told Sandwich, as he grabbed his suit from the pile on the floor, pulled it on, and headed towards the window. “We’ll walk later. Promise. Please don’t eat the couch again while I’m gone.”

The dog grunted and went back to eating.

&&&

Web swinging was hard today. His body groaned with every movement, resisting the stress of his acrobatics. Still healing. He hadn’t realized she’d gotten him quite that badly; he’d been up against way worse than a single teenage girl, but he hadn’t had anyone try so determinedly to kill him from such close range in a long time--not since Norman, or maybe Harry, but that had felt a little more reluctant. Fine, he’d go easy on the somersaults.

So long as whatever was up there wasn’t a troupe of murderous acrobats, he’d probably be okay. At least the new mask was holding up well.

What was up ahead, three or five or seven or twenty-six blocks from his apartment, he’d lost count, was—lights. Sirens. Yelling. A strange, echoing thump-thump. Shit. He dropped himself onto a rooftop to survey the scene, his ribs only groaning a little bit as he landed in a crouch. A bank, long closed for the night, its windows smashed. A row of police cars, like a barricade. Coming in from the north, fire trucks, an ambulance. A small throng of bystanders, their phones out, edging around the scene. A trail of broken asphalt running away in the opposite direction.

And in the middle of it all, a figure.

A man, maybe. In a long jacket, something more than the night obscuring his face. He—if it was a he—didn’t seem very big, but he hovered several feet above the ground, supported by what appeared to be a pair of giant robotic arms. Another pair spread wide into the night air, lashing at anyone who tried to approach.

Peter was pretty sure he’d seen those arms before, or something very like them. Mostly in sketches, then once or twice in a lab in college, never in use, just propped up safely against the back wall. They help my dexterity, Peter. More precise.

But that had been in a secure research lab up at Columbia, where the arms had helped a man’s clumsy hands study nuclear physics at an atomic scale, not ravage a bank on the Lower East Side. Stolen tech, maybe? A copycat? Convergent evolution, two people independently building the same machine at the same time? But what were the odds of that, really? These were robotic arms, not clean energy or self-driving cars. It was too niche. Who was this man, and what could he want?

He swung down, closer, landing on the hood of a police car. The officer standing next to it looked down at Peter and sighed.

“Hey, Spider-Man,” he said. “You can go home. We’ve got this.”

Peter tethered himself to a lamppost closer to the bank and leapt off the hood, angry at his stupid fragile body keeping him from somersaulting away for maximum dramatic effect. “That’s what you always say, Bill.”

“It’s David.”

“I really don’t care.”

He landed on the lamppost, but just barely. The many-armed man had seen him coming and was getting closer, one of his robotic limbs swiping at Peter’s perch. Peter leaped off before the pole could crash down and rolled to the ground, where he finally got a good look at his assailant.

He hadn’t imagined it. He knew those arms.

“Doctor Oc—"

Doctor Octavius. His thesis advisor. A kind, absentminded, academic type, the brand who left their office littered with sticky notes to remember to buy milk, who replied to emails four days late at two in the morning. He’d called Peter a genius kid, said he’d had what it takes to save the world. Because that’s what scientists do, Peter. We change things. We fix them. We make them better. We help the people who can’t help themselves—you get that, don’t you?

Oh, he got it.

Doc was wearing glasses, and his jovial smile had twisted into a sneer, but it was unmistakably him. He lowered himself to the ground, all four metal arms swirling around him.“Oh, great,” he said. “It’s the bug boy. What, couldn’t send any of the real superheroes to stop me? Daddy too busy arresting innocent people?”

With all due respect, Peter thought, what the fuck? Sure, he wasn’t an Enforcer, but his old professor going on a crime spree with a set of weaponized robot arms, probably having some sort of episode, called for enforcement.

He lifted himself off the ground slowly. His body was already screaming for a break, and they were barely getting started. “Look, dude, I respect the whole eight-legs thing, but you don’t gotta be so literal about it. It’s kinda—what’s the word? Tacky.”

Doc lunged at him; Peter dodged. “Wait, no,” he continued. “Kitschy. Campy. Gaudy.” Another swipe, another dodge. “No, I was right the first time. Tacky, it’s tacky.”

The next swipe came from behind him, and Peter jumped out of the way just in time. “What do you even want, Doc? For a guy in tights to teach you that robbing banks and taking hostages is wrong? Congrats, you got it!” He didn’t know if there were hostages; he’d been too stunned by Otto to check, he just assumed there were. There were almost always hostages when the guys in costumes got involved.

“How do you know my name?” Octavius growled.

Yep, there were hostages.

“I dunno, it was just a vibe. You kind of look like my dentist.” And the man who shaped my college career, but same thing.

Most nights he could go on like this forever. Banter, dodge, punch, jump, repeat. Talk him into submission, until he was too worn down by Peter’s endless punchlines to punch back.  Tonight, he was tired. He was injured. He had a dog at home waiting for a walk. This needed to be quick—rescue the hostages, get Otto taken in and looked after. (Kindly, he hoped; the Otto Octavius he knew was a good man, and was probably in there somewhere, scared and confused.) In the morning, maybe Peter Parker could call to innocently, coincidentally check in on his old mentor and get the full story.

“You’re a nuisance, Spider-Man. You know that, don’t you?”

“So it said on my report cards.”

Octavius stepped closer, and Peter webbed one of his metal legs to the ground, but he kept swiping. In his real arms, the human ones, Peter could see a briefcase, presumably full of the stolen money or techno-weapons for looting safety deposit boxes. So he already had what he wanted, but still the hostages, still the rampage, still the crazed look behind those horrible dark goggles. Peter could deal with him, the cops could free the hostages, they’d be fine, this was fine, everything was going to be fine.

But how had this happened—why had this happened? Did he poison everyone he touched? Ben, Gwen, Norman, even Harry, all either dead or driven mad by his proximity. Who next? Tony? May? Steph? MJ? His high school science teacher? His next-door neighbors?

You ruin everything, Peter Parker. They’re safer if you don’t love them, if they don’t love you. You’re a time bomb. A nuclear blast. Look at what you do to them. What you’ve done. You’re not worth it.

His spider sense alerting him to an incoming blow put a pause on the cycle of self-loathing. He couldn’t dodge in time, and an angry fist landed hard against his face. He groaned, and he tasted the blood from his (now probably broken) nose as it dripped into his mouth. “What do you want, Otto?” he spat.

Shit.

“Doctor” he could get away with as a joke, but how would Spider-Man know Doctor Octavius’s first name? He wouldn’t, that’s how. Not unless they knew each other in real life, civilian life, faces uncovered and feet on the ground. Peter, you idiot. His cover, which he had so carefully maintained for the past eight years, was about a minute from being blown by an academic in octopus cosplay. 

This shouldn’t have been happening. He was a professional, he was good at this. He had learned from his past, he was doing better, and these were amateur mistakes. He was off his game, that’s what this was. He was exhausted, injured, overworked, stunned by the improbability of it all. His whole life was improbable; he should have known to expect this kind of thing by now, but he wasn’t convinced he wasn’t living out some middle schooler’s sadistic Mad Libs. He still had time to fix this.

Otto said nothing; he just laughed.

Peter tried to launch himself in the air for a swing and a kick, but his reflexes were slowing, his injuries worsening. Whatever healing he’d done had been set back several days, and every movement was more labored than the last. Before he could evade, the arms, all of them now free of webbing, wrapped themselves around him and pulled him in. Peter hissed in response, his exhalation short and shallow, doing his best to suppress a yelp.

“Oh, come on. Personal space, dude,” he said, and the top left arm pinched his wrists together in response. He was now being held fast in evil, sentient handcuffs, no hopes of swinging away in sight. Nothing this stupid would have happened to Tony; Tony would have had lasers and lights and taken out this guy in minutes. Hell, he could have called in the Iron Legion for backup if he’d wanted, but a single man didn’t deserve it. Peter was a disappointment, again. This should have been so easy, and yet.

And yet.

Peter wasn’t Tony Stark.

“Otto,” growled Octavius.

Peter said nothing.

“Why did you call me that?”

This time, Peter squirmed. He was being held tightly, so tightly. His wrists were raw, his chest burning, and at some point, he had started to bleed. Work was going to have to buy bike accident twice this week. ”I told you. You look like my dentist. His name’s Otto. It was a lucky guess.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

His head spun and his mouth tasted like iron and asphalt as the world tunneled in around the edges of his vision. His hands still tied, he tried to gain some leverage with a kick, but the other arms squeezed even tighter until he was sure he felt a crunch. Great. This was it, this was how he died. Sometime around midnight outside a random bank because his college thesis advisor had taken up a life of crime and he’d been too weak and injured to do anything about it. Yeah, that tracked.

“Who are you, Spider-Man?”

Peter couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, could only steel himself as his spider sense turned on high alert. Imminent danger, big time. Yeah, he got it. With the human hand not holding the briefcase, Otto pulled the mask from his head.

And immediately dropped him, limp and winded and battered, to the ground.

Peter’s bare skin was so cold, the streetlights so bright, every sound and smell heightened without the mask.

Otto’s face had cleared with recognition, and his sneer fell away. “Peter?”

Peter groaned. Then he peeled himself off the ground and launched a flurry of web bombs until Otto was wrapped tightly all over. It wouldn’t hold long, but it would have to hold long enough to get him taken safely into custody. Locked up in the Raft for ten to life, a brilliant man’s work cut short by his own creation. (Was it too soon to make Frankenstein jokes?) But Peter couldn’t think about the tragedy of it yet. He had to keep moving.

He kept his head down until he found the mask by Otto’s feet. His hands were shaking, and it took impossibly long to fit it back over his head. It was twisted or too small or made for someone else entirely, bunching around his neck and pulling uncomfortably against his swollen face. And then he stood up, wobbly and wheezing, and faced the officers who were pulling the hostages from the building. Maybe they’d been inside. Maybe they hadn’t seen him. Maybe it was okay.

“You’ve got this from here, Bill,” he said, and, with every ounce of willpower he had left, he swung away on shaky arms to pick up his dog, call Aunt May, and hide in his childhood bedroom for the rest of his life.

&&&

The officers may not have seen him, but there had been bystanders. There are always bystanders, just like there are always hostages. They have cameras. They have social media. They flock to danger, to drama, to sensationalism. They post suffering for the likes and the retweets and the fleeting moments of fame. A Spider-Man sighting was pretty commonplace--novel, but not extraordinary. But this tableau, a hero in crisis, an identity revealed, that was media gold. This was a millennial icon’s Pyrrhic victory. This was a new weak spot in the Accords. And under all that bravado, he was just a scared little boy. They didn't recognize him (there was at least one audible boo when someone realized that Spider-Man was just another pasty white boy), but they’d seen him, and that was enough.

The responsible thing would have been to keep his secret, to respect the sanctity of what had happened here tonight. But the bystanders are never responsible.

While all the others had been texting and tweeting and snapping and streaming, at least one had had the wherewithal to take a picture with one of their fancy, enormous, three-lensed phone cameras and capture Spider-Man unmasked, clear as day, battered and bloody but distinctly him, and send it straight to the Daily Bugle.

(The ball’s in your court now, Jameson.)

[jgroffdaily]

[This article appears in the September 16, 2019, issue of New York Magazine.]

Within minutes of my meeting Jonathan Groff, he asks if I would like a slice of cherry pie, and then, only a short time later, if I would like to be eaten by a giant plant. The first I readily accept because Groff and the rest of the cast of Little Shop of Horrors have thoroughly analyzed the desserts they picked up for a bus ride down from New York to the suburban Philadelphia puppet studio where they’re rehearsing for the day, and they’ve all concluded it’s the best option. The idea of being eaten by a plant seems a little less palatable, considering the contortions involved in entering the hippopotamus-esque maw of the man-eating Audrey II, which is operated by several puppeteers, and because I’m not sure if Groff is making a serious offer. I learn quickly that he is always offering you things, and those offers are always serious.

The puppet in question represents the largest form of Audrey II, a sassy carnivorous horticultural oddity that convinces Seymour, an awkward flower-shop assistant, to commit murder in the pursuit of fame, fortune, and a suburban life with the original Audrey, a human who works with him. The day I visit, Groff, playing the misfit Seymour (despite good looks that actor Christian Borle, who plays the maniacal dentist, Orin, describes as “scrumptious”), and his castmates are climbing inside Audrey II one by one, figuring out how each of them will die. Wearing a hat from Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s “On the Run II” tour, Groff jumps inside wielding a floppy machete, which is so un-aerodynamic it keeps getting stuck in Audrey II’s lips. Groff suggests a real machete prop would be sturdier, and they try substituting an umbrella, which flies out more cleanly. Michael Mayer, the director, says with satisfaction, “It’s a belch!”

Staging this revival of Little Shop is “illegal fun,” as Groff puts it. The original ran from 1982 to 1987 but never transferred to Broadway, at the insistence of writer-lyricist Howard Ashman, who wanted to preserve the show’s off-kilter spirit in a smaller space. Ashman and composer Alan Menken would go on to fill the Disney Renaissance — which consisted of films like The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast — with the Marie’s Crisis–ready melodies and queer subversions you can already hear in Little Shop (Ashman died of aids-related complications in 1991). Despite a Broadway staging that kicked off in 2003, this version is staying put at the Westside Theatre Off Broadway in hopes of preserving the quirky spirit of the original. There’s a lot of laughter in rehearsal as well as dress codes like a “kimono Wednesday,” which Mayer enforces by handing me a spare kimono when I drop in that day.

I can’t imagine anyone who is consistently involved in or adjacent to homicide having a better time. In addition to playing a murderously nice guy in Little Shop, Groff stars in Netflix’s David Fincher–produced drama Mindhunter, playing an FBI agent who interviews serial killers; the show is based on the real work of John Douglas, who was one of the first criminal profilers. Considering he’s no big fan of true crime, Groff is somewhat confused about how he became a poster boy for gore and mutilation, though he’s enjoying the texts from friends who point out that even when he does musical comedy, there’s a dark edge involved. A few days after we meet in Philadelphia, we’re talking over breakfast at the cozy Grey Dog in Chelsea, where he insists on paying for everything, picking up all the water and utensils, and getting up from the table to refill my coffee cup when it’s empty.

Groff signed up to star in Little Shop this spring after careful consideration, by which I mean he got the offer and then listened to the original cast recording on repeat for a whole weekend. He’d never played Seymour before, unlike the majority of white male theater actors, but he had positive memories of seeing the first performance of the 2003 Broadway version just after high school, when he was rehearsing the role of Rolf in a non-Equity tour of The Sound of Music. “I wanted to make sure that I’m bleeding for it eight times a week,” he says, which is his measure for doing musicals; he wants to make sure he won’t get bored with the material. Even now, when I assume he might want a break from it during rehearsals, Groff still has the album on repeat. “I never went to college, and I’m not educated, really, so I couldn’t say, like, intellectually why that is,” he says. “When I listened to it, it shot through my heart.”

There’s a clue, however, in the way he remembers obsessing over the film version of the show as a seventh-grader, standing in his kitchen with the song “Skid Row” on repeat — specifically when Seymour sings, “Someone show me a way to get outta here.” It was an appealing message to a closeted kid whom Groff describes as just “a sweaty, uncomfortable person with a secret that was so deep-rooted I wasn’t even flirting with the idea of being myself.” With a little distance from that version of himself (the child of a phys-ed teacher and a horse trainer, growing up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and occasionally having to clean stables on the weekends), Groff recalls the kinds of tells that seem obvious in retrospect, like, say, listening to “Skid Row” on repeat. Or developing an obsession with I Love Lucy, which he still watches before going to bed. Or dancing along to the Donna Reed’s Dinner Party album when his parents weren’t home. There’s a similar longing in Little Shop, which has the queerest kind of perspective on its central couple, as Audrey and Seymour imagine an unreachable, heteronormative life away from skid row and where she looks “like Donna Reed.”

If there’s a murderous kinship between Little Shop and Mindhunter, it extends to the shows’ shared skepticism about that white-picket-fence-style normalcy. Holden, Groff’s profiler character, is a cardboard cutout of a man with a girlfriend who introduces him to 1970s-style sexual liberation, but he is ultimately more fascinated with the deviancy of the killers he’s interviewing. To play him, Groff shuts down his charisma, amassing such emptiness between his angular jaw and his eyebrows that you wonder if he’ll slip into deviancy himself. It’s a performance of square, even sinister straightness that feels close to the best-little-boy performances of closeted queer men, though what seems to thrill Holden most in the show are his interviews with killers. “Sexuality is so complicated, and the people I’ve ended up working with who have cast me in straight parts are interested in looking at things in a complicated way,” Groff says, noting that he feels the argument about whether gay actors can play straight, or vice versa, has gotten “sillier” as time goes on. “Being out and gay and being myself, it allowed me to find people that weren’t closed-minded.”

Groff came out when he was 23, without directly consulting his agent, after he’d become an idol to the nation’s theater teens of Facebook by starring as the sexy, rebellious, tousle-haired Melchior in Spring Awakening. “I was so compartmentalized,” he says, “singing about sex but then not talking about it.” He remains thankful for the way Mayer, who also directed that show, choreographed the explicit sex between himself and Lea Michele’s Wendla clinically, without asking them about their own experiences. He hadn’t spent too much time worrying about the aftereffects of coming out on his career, which were more limiting in 2009 than they are now. “I did think I might not be seen as a romantic lead, but ultimately I was okay with that,” he says, explaining that he was in love at the time and didn’t want to hide it. “At 23, I’d rather just have a real romantic relationship than pretend to have one with a girl.”

Several years after coming out, Groff booked a leading role in HBO’s Looking, a comedy-drama about gay men in San Francisco, which he calls one of the most fulfilling roles he’s had. The series ran for two seasons and got a wrap-up movie but never quite found a viewership, even among queer audiences, instead receiving, as he puts it, “a total mixed bag of very extreme reactions.” Some of that was because people just didn’t like the show — which was often slower, more interior, and whiter and fitter than people may have wanted — and some of it was because it was “carrying a lot of weight; there wasn’t a lot of specifically gay content on a major cable network.” To Groff, making the show opened him up to the possibility of using material from his own experience in his work. Among the cast and crew, “we would talk about stories about PrEP and uncut dicks and monogamy,” he recalls, among “so many stories about anal douching,” and those anecdotes would make their way into the scripts. He was used to a sort of “closeted training of the mind” to abstract himself from his own experience. Looking taught him he could use it.

Recently, Groff has developed an ability to end up near the center of cultural sensations. He stepped in for Brian d’Arcy James as Hamilton’s fey Britpop version of King George III midway through the show’s Off Broadway run. It was a somewhat ideal gig, given that he was onstage for only about nine minutes a night, performed crowd-pleasing kiss-off songs, met Beyoncé, earned a Tony nomination, and got a lot of reading done backstage. This fall, he’s in Disney’s sequel to Frozen, where he returns to play Princess Anna’s rugged (at a Disney-appropriate level) love interest, Kristoff. In the first movie, while Idina Menzel’s Elsa got the vocal-cord shattering “Let It Go,” Groff sang only a few lines of melody between Kristoff and his reindeer, Sven. This time around, he’s putting his Broadway training to use with a full-length solo. It’s the second one he recorded for the movie, since the writers had one idea for a Kristoff piece (“a jam”) but then canned that song while promising Groff they’d write something different, which he didn’t quite believe. “Then they fucking wrote that other song,” he says, characteristically effusive. “I was like, Wow, and the animation of the song is so brilliant.”

As personable as Groff is and as successful as he has become — and as beloved, especially among theater fans and people like my mother — there’s a point at which he maintains a certain distance, in what feels like a way to stem his own impulses. He doesn’t use any social media, though he did consider it when Looking was struggling, before he realized “I’d have to be good at it and want to do it, and I don’t.” He has never thrown himself a birthday party, because the impulse to make sure everyone’s having a good time would stress him out too much. In behavior that reminds me of both a secret agent and Kim Kardashian, he regularly goes through and deletes all his texts after responding to each of them. “I want to make sure I get back to everyone,” he says, holding his iPhone up in front of me to reveal the remarkably few surviving messages.

Before Groff gets up to leave breakfast and travel to rehearsal by way of the single-speed bicycle he rides around Manhattan, we end up talking about the larger trajectory of his career. Considering that he’s scaling down for a revival run of a musical Off Broadway, was he ever the kind of actor who thought of his work as building up to something? A big film? A franchise? “I think I gave that up when I came out of the closet,” he says. “I gave up the idea that there was an end goal or ideal or some kind of dream to work toward.” An image appears in my mind of the life Audrey sings about in Little Shop, a place that’s comfortable, traditional, and expected, somewhere that’s green. “When I moved to New York, what I wanted was to be on Broadway. That happened and then I came out, and it’s sort of been anybody’s guess since then,” Groff says. “I like when something makes me cry or I can’t stop listening to it. Okay, I want to do that.”

Little Shop of Horrors is in previews and opens October 17 at Westside Theatre Upstairs. Buy tickets here.