#old queens sitcom life

[eefaevie]

We Shall Have the World Forever For Our Own by @quitequaintrelle (M, 63.7k, complete)

Starting at Crowley’s jawline, Aziraphale lays a chain of kisses down the column of his neck, ending at the pair of dark red marks the precise shape of Aziraphale’s pursed mouth in the groove above Crowley’s collarbone.

“I do hope you keep these for a good long while,” Aziraphale says as he gently prods the marks with his nose.

Crowley’s breath streams in a drawn-out hiss of pleasure. A plaintive whimper clambers up and out of his mouth as Aziraphale smiles broadly against his throat.

“If you want me… want me to wear a turtleneck more often, you can ask,” Crowley whines. Aziraphale’s tongue has poked out to skirt around the borders of the love bites.

It’s still a delightful novelty—the asking and the answering.

“I do adore your turtlenecks, so handsome…” Aziraphale nudges the neckline of Crowley’s dressing gown aside to bare more skin, marking a path with kisses as he goes. “Though, it might also be great fun to flaunt a bit, see the looks on everyone’s faces at the Christmas market grand opening.”

excerpt from chapter 8, Autumn Rhythm (It Ends as It Started)

happy (MUCH belated) birthday to my darling @quitequaintrelle ! you are hilarious, wonderful, and kind, and I’m so grateful to be your friend! thank you for always being there to think of silly ideas together, going on Real People outings with me, and letting me have the honour of beta reading your amazing fics early 😘 I hope you like it!! ❤️❤️

for more scenes of domestic intimacy and celestial beings Making Problems On Purpose, you should read we shall have the world forever for our own. It’s genuinely excellent 🫶

[sabrinajenre96]

Pairing: Dr. Michael Robinavitch x Doctor!Reader (fem) 📎 Warnings: Fluff, family chaos, dad jokes so bad they might be a medical emergency, light language, mentions of past teen pregnancy, one (1) Belgian Malinois with too much energy, and an 8-year-old attempting crazy scientific experiments. 📅 Series: The Robinavitch Chronicles

tagging: @kmc1989 @nowandajenn @stefanmikaleson1864 @beebeechaos @sweetwanderlust05

🩺 Summary:

Welcome to the barely controlled chaos of the Robinavitch household—where the operating room is somehow less stressful than breakfast time. Dr. Y/N is a badass senior resident, Michael a genius attending with the patience of a saint (most days), and their three kids—Sawyer (teen with a sass level over 9000), Alex (mad scientist in training), and Spencer (tiny terror in a tutu)—keep them on their toes. Add in Kojo, their overprotective Belgian Malinois who thinks he’s part babysitter, part security detail, and you’ve got a family sitcom disguised as a medical drama.

Expect: snack-fueled standoffs, bubble bath bribes, science experiments gone rogue, and enough love to keep this whole circus together.

Paging all readers: Things are about to get adorably unhinged.

Author note: You can share and tag me, but I forbid anyone from stealing my work and making it yours. I put my heart and soul into coming up with this series. Unfortunately, I have witnessed creators coming across this problem.

Episodes:

Episode one ~ Chaos in scrubs

Episode Two ~ Saturdays Are for Pancakes and Trouble

Episode Three ~ Interrupted: A Bedtime Tragedy

Episode Four ~ No Locked Doors, Just Trauma

Episode five ~ Babysitter’s Survival Guide

Episode Six ~ Parent-Teacher Purgatory

Episode Seven ~Camp Chaos & Royal Decrees

Episode eight ~The Littlest Doctor

Episode Nine ~ Operation Birthday Surprise: Paging Dr. Daddy

Episode Ten ~ Threat Level Spencer

Episode Eleven ~ The (Not So) Scary Medical Masquerade

Episode Twelve -Operation: No One Find Us (Please)

Episode Thirteen -Paging Dr. Mom and Dr. Dad – Career Day Chaos

Episode Fourteen- Code Pink: Spencer Silence

Episode Fifteen - Shift Leader Spencer” – Operation: No Grandma, No Peace

Episode Sixteen - aloha chaos: the Robinavitch's edition

Episode Seventeen - Memoirs of a Mini Mob Boss” – Life According to Spencer Robinavitch

“Episode Eighteen -The Case of the Midnight Brownie Bandit”

“Episode Nineteen - The Glitter Queen’s Sixth Birthday: A Sparkly Roast

“Episode twenty - No Interruptions”

Episode twenty-one -The Return of the Mini Mob

Episode twenty two - "Tiny Heart, Big Drama"

Episode twenty three - "Operation: First Date (With Kojo On Duty)"

Episode twenty four -Episode Title: “Big Sisters, Secrets & Snitches”

Episode twenty five- “The Test”

Episode twenty- six - Episode Title: “Ghosts in the Parking Lot”

Episode twenty -seven - “Sisters, Secrets & Spencer’s Showdown

Episode twenty eight - "A New Day at The Pitt"

Episode twenty nine -"A Day in the Life of the Robinavitch Family

Episode thirty - “The Saturday Choice”

Episode thirty-one - “A seat at the table”

Episode thirty two -“Kojo Appreciation Day”

Episode thirty three -ROBINAVITCH HOME

Episode thirty four -“Almost There”

Episode thirty five - “Welcome, Jake”

Episode thirty six - Final Chapter: “The Legacy Continues

Epilogue: A New Beginning

[fabuladorah]

One sided ships dont get enough love (which is very meta) so here's my favorites one-sided Nevermore Ships, no particular order:

Adabel.

My reasoning is that its sadder this way, I hate happiness.

OH, these two. Make me go insane.

Ada has the biggest crush on Annabel, but she doesnt even know she like women so she's like "well i wanna be just like her" WHICH IS ALSO TRUE, because Annabel is everything Ada ever wanted to be(and won't ever be) Annabel is a proper lady, she is rich, she has gorgeous curls, she is the queen.

And she is the queen because Ada asked her to be.

"I'm glad to know that even you bleed"

And she bleeds red blood, just like Ada, except that no, Ada is bleeding black ink, she's breaking like an old doll because she just can't do anything right, she can't follow the rules or be smart she acts on , meanwhile there's Annabel Lee, real lady, real human, perfect Annabel Lee who won't even look at her.

Montero

Its the worst thing ever. Its hilarious.

I do somewhat apreciate half-requited(is that a thing) montero but I like it more when its 100% unrequited. Because Monty would turn Prospero's life into absolute hell. Even better if he is dating Ada, the sitcom potential.

There is, as always, room for angst here. Which is the beauty of these ships. A good fic with this is a Frankstein AU of Nevermore, its amazing. Yall go read it.

Morellada (low down the spikes and hear me outttt)

I think it does good for Morella and Ada's arc, specially if we combine it with Unrquited Adabel (we should combine all three actually, make the situation completely unsanstaineble)

My take on Unrequited Morellada is that they take turns. Yes. Thats right.

First, it's Morella who's head over heels in love with Ada, she has their marriage planned. And it doesnt even bother her that Ada is a bit mean to her sometimes, or to her friends or to herself. That is until she helped in the "Walling Duke Up", that Morella can't forgive. So she leaves.

And that's when Ada really notices Morella. Notices how no one else had even been kind to her like Morella, no one else had stand up to her like Morella, no else had been there, acepted and truly loved her. And what did Ada do? She broke that love in peaces.

But now Morella has a bunch of new — real — friends, and she won't take Ada back. Ada also won't go after her. Oh. They could have had it all.

But they wont.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Secret relationship; Fred Weasley x muggle American reader

*Author's note*

Imagine this is POST Battle of Hogwarts and a timeline where our beloved Fred Weasley LIVES!!!! BUT. He got so injured that he now has to use a cane to help walk after years of physical therapy so that is pretty much the only warning that's in there is the description of Fred having to limp for the rest of his life but other than that just full on FLUFFY FEELS ALL AROUND!! Oh and reader-chan is a Muggle (always wanted to try and write one cause I've noticed all my HP fics I've made the reader a witch so why not try muggle?).

Also reader is American so expect some sorta lame old school American slang vs. British slang, And I as a non-Brit probably used the most obvious ones so I apologize for any cringy that might get some of my british readers out there but I hope nonetheless you all enjoy this fluffy little fic :)

Taglist:

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@waddles03

@queen-paladin

@remussl0vers

@plethora-of-things

@psychosupernatural

_________________________________________________

The crackling sounds of the fireplace warming up the flat, the television playing in the background playing some sitcom was mere background noise as my attention stood before the man that sat next to me on the loveseat kissing me.  His face buried in my neck pressing feather-like kisses up and down, his arms wrapped around me snugly pulling me just ever so closer to his front.

I turned my head so that our lips could meet in a passionate kiss and as our kiss became more passionate, I couldn’t help but think back on our relationship in the past 2 and a half years.

*Flashback*

I was heading to my usual lunch spot after taking my break from work.  As I waited at the cross walk, I heard my phone ring and I picked it up and answered it.

“Hello? Yes Kurt the portfolios are on my desk in the second drawer. No, no the second drawer to your left. I need you to fax those off to Paris within the next hour so that they’ll be ready for the spring catalog. What? How do you use a—please tell me you’re joking. You don’t know how to use a fax machine? You’ve been at this job for six months and you still haven’t figured out how to use it? Look just…..” I then felt myself slam into someone and I said, “Oh shit I am so sorry I—didn’t see…..”

“No, no, the fault was entirely my own.” Oh wow.  I was told by my brother that the gingers over here were more prominent here than they were back home but he didn’t tell me they’d be so cute.  Wait what (Y/n) get a grip.

“Oh here le-let me help you.”

“No it’s okay I’ve got it.” That’s when I saw him reach for a cane as he slowly tried to lift himself up.  But he seemed to be struggling with it a bit and it just made me think of my brother.

“You sure you don’t need any help?”

“Given the fact that we’re in the middle of the street where the light could turn at any given moment. Maybe I could swallow my pride just this once.” I came to his side and wrapped my arm around his back and hoisted him up before the two of us got out of the crosswalk.  “Thanks, would’ve been roadkill had you not helped out.”

“There’s never anything wrong with asking for help. I know I tell my brother Frank that every day.” He looked down at his cane before turning back up to me.

“So he’s……”

“I wouldn’t want to bore you with it. But I do wish to make up for my actions of bumping into you. Can I buy you lunch?”

“Oh I couldn’t impose.”

“It’s no trouble at all really. I was on my way to lunch anyways and we’re already at the place so might as well.” He turned to see the sandwich shop.

“Well—I guess I am feeling a bit peckish. But I’m paying for my own lunch.”

“Alright. Come on.” I led him towards the side entrance door and told him of some recommendations of some good sub-sandwiches.  However when he went to pay, the cashier nearly got into an argument with him over the money he was about to give to pay for his meal.

I know Frank had told me of euros, pounds, quid, and all the other European slangs and terms for money but what the hell was a Galleon? That’s when I stepped in and offered to pay for both his meal and mine as to deescalate the situation.

As we took our seats the ginger-haired man said to me.

“Guess I needed more saving today.”

“That guy was way out of line to yell at you. Although I must say I’ve never heard of a galleon before. Is that a new currency here in England?” he started stammering.  God he was even cute when he flustered, again girl get a grip!

“Uhh well umm….I-I….maybe old money. Once belonged to my great-great-great-great granddad. Thought it would work but I guess not.” I nodded pretending to agree with him.  “Now I hope you don’t think me rude but your accent, you’re not from London are you?”

“That would be correct. I’m originally from New York. I had moved here a couple of months ago for a job offering. I work in a shop called Bloomingdales, that’s a great big clothing store and I had gotten an offer to work as an assistant product designer here in London.”

“Ahh a fellow business person.”

“Hold on a minute, do you work for a rivalry clothing line cause if so I’m afraid this lunch will have to be cut short.”

“Oh bollocks guess this is goodbye then.” Seeing the teasing grin on his face and the twinkle in his eye instantly made me realize he was playing along with me.  We both softly laughed and he continued, “No I don’t work for a clothing line. My brother and I actually own a joke shop.”

“Really? Must’ve been hard trying to build your business from the ground up.”

“It was but we managed. At first our parents didn’t really believe we could do it, in fact a lot of people said we were absolutely daft. Said we were throwing our lives away for something that may not take off but we proved them wrong.”

“I wish I could take that leap of faith. I’ve always loved designing dresses, especially wedding gowns but I don’t know if I could ever run my own business.”

“You never know if you don’t try.” Smart, brilliant, and cute.  Was there nothing that this guy couldn’t do? When I looked up at the clock and saw the time I nearly jumped out of my pantsuit.

“Oh Jesus! Sorry but I gotta get back to the office and make sure one of my workers faxed over those portfolios. Kurt’s a nice guy but sometimes he’s as dumb as a bag of rocks. I—wow I just realized we’ve been talking all this time and I never once asked you your name.”

“It’s Fred. Fred Weasley.” Weasley? Wow that’s sure a name I’m gonna remember.  We shook hands and I told him my name before bidding him goodbye and racing out of the shop and back to the office.

I didn’t see Fred for a couple of weeks after that day.  I was walking along the streets once more going over some files and portfolios of some new designs I was going to pitch later this evening when I didn’t notice a painter working just ahead.  Just before I went under the ladder, I was suddenly pulled back and just before I went to yell at the person for suddenly grabbing me, I saw the can of pain splatter everywhere just barely missing my pants and shoes. 

Oh god, if I hadn’t been pulled back, the designs I’ve slaved long nights for would’ve been ruined.  Not to mention all the files that my boss gave to me about potential partnerships and deals.

“Looks like we’re even now.” I turned and saw Fred smiling down at me.

“Fred.” I breathed his name.

“Aye canno’ believe this! I’m so sorry lassie! You alright down there? This ladder I swear canno’ hold a bloody candle let alone a paint can.” The painter spoke with a thick Irish accent.

“We’re all good sir, no harm done!” Fred called up.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” I said.  “I guess we’re just meant to save each other.” I said as Fred released me.

“I believe I once heard a wise woman once say to me, there’s nothing wrong with asking for help.” I scoffed softly.

“You’re literally quoting me to me, you do realize that right?”

“I imagined the conversation going like ‘well she must sound quite wise’.” He said doing a horrible impersonation of me.  Speaking with an airy, ditzy voice.

“I do not sound like that!” I laughed.

“Don’t go ruining my vision. Then I would say, ‘well not only wise but attractive as well.’” I looked at him stunned and felt my cheeks heat up.

“So are uhh….you doing anything?” I asked trying not to stammer like a bashful idiot.

“Not much just strolling through London. Getting some fresh air especially after all the rain we’ve been having.”

“Yeah that’s the one thing I can’t understand about you English people. Why live in a country that’s constantly raining?”

“Welcome to an island love.” Oh sweet Mary and Jesus he just had to say that.  Yeah, yeah I’m a sucker for when British men call their partners ‘love’ and hearing him call me that—ooo mama it gave me goosebumps. 

“Well uhh…..if you’re not too busy or anything, I don’t know maybe you’d like to get some grub?”

“Grub?” he asked tilting his head cutely.

“Uhh sorry food. Sorry slang term back home. Past lunch time but not quite dinner time yet, so my brothers and I always called it grub time.”

“You Americans and your silly little words.” He chuckled.

“Silly little words?!” I gasped in faux offense.  “You’re the one to talk Mr. Fish and chips! It’s chicken and fries! Nothing else!” he laughed.

“But aren’t your so called fries and chips all made from potatoes?” I went to retort but knew he was right.

“Touche you make a valid point there Mr. Weasley.” He laughed again and continued,

“But to answer your question I’d love to grab some grub with you.”

“Now you’re just making fun of me.” I grumbled.

“Not at all love. C’mon this time I’m buying. Shall we go to that sandwich shop we went to when we first met?”

“It’s like you read my mind. I had seen they’ve got a new item on the menu that I’ve been meaning to try out.” He extended his arm out and very poshly I looped my arm through his and he said.

“Shall me milady?”

“Let us go milord.” We both laughed and walked down the street towards the sandwich shop and ended up chatting the entire afternoon away up until they were getting ready to close.

For the next few weeks I had seen Fred pop up every now and then either before work, during my breaks or after work.  It wasn’t before long that he had asked me out on our first date and yeah you guessed it, it was at the sandwich shop.

Which I truthfully didn’t mind at all.  There wasn’t any pressure for us to do anything fancy, it was familiar territory, and we didn’t have to worry about trying to pay for an overpriced meal.  And it was actually on that night that he and I shared our first kiss.

You know how some people say that when you kiss the person that’s said to be ‘your One’ there’s fireworks or a spark between the two of you.  Well for me personally it felt like a warmth had been unlocked within me.  A warm, butterfly feeling that I didn’t even know existed but I knew I didn’t ever want it to end.

Eventually after that, that’s when we decided to make it official and we were now boyfriend/girlfriend.  Fred was such a great support system, especially once the holidays came around and not only would my work schedule be incredibly busy with deadlines for the holiday sales, but also prevented me from flying back to the States to spend Christmas with my family.

The snow was starting to fall outside as I sat in my dining room with portfolios and design sketches to fax to both New York and LA offices for the upcoming spring catalog.  After hours of working and getting nothing but hand cramps from drawing and sketching all afternoon, I decided that now was a good time as any to retire and put the work aside for the night.

“Here you are love, fresh hot chocolate just like mum used to make.” Freddie said as he carefully set down a steaming cup of hot chocolate on one of the coasters on the table.

“Thanks Freddie.” I let out a groan as I stretched my arms outward before flopping down across his lap.  I felt his fingers run through my hair gently massaging it and I let out a relaxed sigh.

“I hate to see you so worked up like this love, especially around the Christmas holiday.”

“That’s what it’s typically like. The holiday season and summer time is where the most demand for new designs come into play. Luckily for me all I have to do tomorrow is just work out the finishing touches on the last sketches and then fax them off to the offices back in the states. Then I’m home free for the rest of the year.”

“But it still seems unfair that you don’t get to fly over to see your family. I mean you were packed and everything when you got the call.”

“Yeah well these things happen. Plus with the snow falling now I doubt I would’ve left tonight anyways. But what about you? Shouldn’t you be heading over to see your family?”

“They understand why I’m not coming this year. Can’t leave my new girlfriend alone on Christmas. Mum would have my head.”

“Just curious, why can’t we both go see your family together? We don’t have to just let it be the two of us?”

“Think I’d rather have our first Christmas be just the two of us before you’re hounded down by my entire family.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“So possessive.”

“You mean devoting.” He kissed my forehead again, “Loyal,” he kissed the tip of my nose, “Loving,” he kissed both my cheeks, “And ungodly handsome.” He then began fervently pecking kisses all over my face making me laugh before ending it all with a soft kiss to my lips.

“You are such a dork.”

“But you chose to love this dork.”

“And I don’t regret a second of it.” I sat up from his lap and reached out to cup the side of his face.  He nuzzled into my palm even gently giving my palm a loving kiss.  “Thanks for having my first Christmas in a foreign country not seem so lonely.”

“Of course. Christmas time isn’t as different as you think between here and America. For one thing, look up.” I raised my brow and looked up to see a string of mistletoe hanging over us.

“Where did—”

“Never question a Christmas tradition love.” Fred said as he scooted closer to me and hooking his fingers underneath my chin.  He then leaned forward and gave me a kiss so loving and sensual that I felt my senses go into overdrive before I kissed him back with the same amount of love and passion as he was giving me.

*End of flashback*

Fred separated from our kiss and he said.

“(Y/n), there’s—something that I need to tell you.”

“What is it Fred?”

“I…..I just…..” he let out a deep breath before lifting himself up off the loveseat.  He hobbled over closer to the fireplace and continued, “There’s something that I haven’t told you, about me. And the reason why you haven’t met my family.”

His family always seemed to be a touch and go subject to talk about.  Ever since we cemented our relationship with each other, I’ve introduced him to my mom and brothers but the closest I’ve ever gotten to meeting his family is through the stories he’s told me.

“Okay.” I said slowly as I adjusted myself on the loveseat.

“This—this isn’t easy for me to say and I could risk everything by even telling you this but, I love you (Y/n). I never thought I would find happiness and love again until the day I met you. But…..how can I continue this if I can’t even be honest with you?”

“Fred, you’re starting to scare me a little, just tell me. I’ll try to understand whatever it is you have to say.” He let out a deep, anxious breath before turning to me and he said.

“First do you remember on our first date together how I was able to help you unlock your door when you had forgotten your key?”

“Yeah.”

“And how the past couple of Christmases we’ve spent together, there’d be mistletoe that always seem to just pop out of nowhere.” I nodded.  He came back over and sat down beside me and hesitantly reached out for my hands.  “Can you just answer me this…..do you believe in magic?”

“What kind of question is that Fred?”

“J-just-just…..answer the question. With the truth.” I thought about it long and hard.

“I mean, there’s always an explanation for when magicians perform their stuff. Whether it’s wires, trapdoors or mirrors.”

“What if I told you that it is real. And I’m not talking about in the ways you’ve seen magic before. That there’s actually—another world within London itself that holds real magic. And that there were people who can actually perform such magic.”

“But that would mean that there’s wizards and witches running around London and…..” seeing Fred’s face unchangeable as he looked at me with those solemn brown eyes of his.  “Wait, y-you mean…..”

“Yes (Y/n). I’m a wizard. Magic—is real. My entire family are wizards as well, my friends and school mates, they were all wizards and witches. The school I went to was for young witches and wizards to hone their skills and control them. The war I fought and barely survived in wasn’t your normal human wars like your brothers fought in, it was a wizard war.”

“Fred stop!” I silenced him as I took my hands out of his.  I turned away from him.

“(Y/n) I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you but I—”

“Just quiet. I-I need to just…..process this.”

“Okay.” He muttered so softly you wouldn’t have even heard him.  I sat there staring at the roaring fire as I pressed my hands together and took in everything that Fred said.

And truthfully now that I think back, there were a bunch of incidences and events that just struck out as too odd to be anything else.  It’s true how he was able to unlock my door whenever I didn’t have my keys, or the random mistletoes appearing out of nowhere when I know I didn’t have any to hang up.  But there was also the times when he thought I wasn’t looking how he’d somehow prepare a meal that would normally take an hour or so to prepare whenever I came home from a long day at work, and once I came down changing into my comfy pjs, the dinner would all be set up.  And the time when we had this big thunderstorm last year, we were walking along the street when a car came barreling down the road and couldn’t stop in time for us to use the crosswalk.

I swore I thought we were as good as dead but as I held onto Fred, the car suddenly came to a screeching halt.  He didn’t make them too obvious but it all seemed to make sense.

“So you’re actually a real wizard? Like pointy hats and wands, wizard?”

“Not pointy hats, not anymore at least not since my second year of school. But yes I do have a wand.”

“Can…..can I see it?” he was hesitant at first but he went over to his coat and pulled out from his pocket a real wand.  He came back over and held it out to me.  It was roughly between 12-14in. long and the handle resembled a pinecone.  It was a dark brownish wood almost appearing black in certain aspects of the light.  I slowly reached out but didn’t want to overstep anything.

“It won’t hurt you.” He assured me.  I looked at him and he gave me a soft nod as he presented his wand once again to me.  Slowly I reached out and held it between my hands.  The handle-shape was rough as it dug into my skin but the rest of the wand was as smooth as satin silk.

“Can you really do magic with this?”

“Yeah, here I’ll show you. Nothing too grand but just watch.” He took back his wand and pointed at one of my portfolios of a wedding design I had been making.  “Wingardium Leviosa.” With a wave of his wand, the page of my design slowly began levitating up into the air.

My eyes widened as I lifted my head up to follow my portfolio levitating by itself before being gently placed into my lap safe and sound.  I turned to Fred and I muttered.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit.” He repeated.

“So….the whole time you could’ve gotten anything from the top shelf and handed it to me with a flick of your wrist?” Fred stared at me surprised before a smile came across his face and he threw his head back laughing.  And I don’t mean any ordinary laugh, I’m talking a full-on belly laugh that makes tears come at the corner of your eyes.  “What I’m serious do you know how many times I’ve begged you to help me with the shopping and cooking?”

“Oh this is why I love you. Only you could be told something life-changing and then switch it into a joke.” Fred wiped away the tears from the corner of his eyes.

“In all seriousness though Fred. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” his once happy face became solemn.

“Like I said, it’s kinda forbidden. Not that we can’t have relationships with muggles, I’ve had friends who’ve had parents who were either a muggle or had muggle parents.”

“Muggles?”

“Non-magic people. Think it over, throughout your history witches have been hunted and persecuted for what we were. Deemed us unnatural or even demonic. Some those would fit to a T but most of us we’re just trying to live our lives, have families, make friends, nothing world ending. So we’ve had to be keep ourselves hidden from your world.”

“Oh yeah. The Salem witch trials, and I’m sure here in England you guys had a similar thing.”

“More or less but it was more like every day was the Salem Witch trials. So we can’t really expose ourselves to your world less we risk exposure. Sure you won’t probably burn us at the stake or drown us anymore but…..”

“No, no I get it.” I took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  “It must’ve been so hard for you to tell me, but I commend your bravery for taking that step Freddie.”

“Well if I couldn’t live up to the Gryffindor name, I’d never be able to live it down.”

“What’s Gryffindor?”

“It was my house back at school.” He then proceeded to tell me about his school, Hogwarts, and about the four houses that reside there.  Gryffindor was the House of the Brave and Courageous, Hufflepuff for the Just and Loyal, Ravenclaw for the knowledge seekers and wisdom, and Slytherin for Ambitious and Evil.

He continued to explain to me about the War that had happened nearly ten years ago and how he had be some miracle survived the wall that had crushed him.  And god was I lucky too, had he not then—I doubt I would’ve really found myself a partner.  I was too invested in my work and Fred keeps me on my toes by allowing me to have fun every once in a while and learn to take breaks.

“I don’t even know how it was possible but—” I could see his hand trembling so I placed my other hand over his to ease his anxiety.

“I guess….whoever is up there decided it wasn’t your time to go yet. And I thank whoever that is. Cause if you weren’t here, I doubt I’d be this happy as I am now. I’d just be buried in my work.”

“Yeah, a boring, wound up stick in the mud.”

“I am not!” I gawked as I playfully shoved him.

“Without me darling, you wouldn’t even remember what fun is.”

“Okay I think you lied about Gryffindor being Courageous. More like Arrogant.” This time he faux gawked as he dramatically placed his hand over his chest.

“How dare you! And I thought you cared about me?!” he pulled me back into his lap embracing me as tightly as he could while he buried his face into my neck rocking me like a child.  I giggled as I tried to get out of his grip but each time he’d give my hands a light slap before capturing them and pinning them to my side.  While fervently kissing any square inch of my face and neck that he could reach, each kiss he made a dramatic and overexaggerated kissing sound.

“AHHH! FREDDIE STOP IT!!” I exclaimed through my laughter.

“Not. A. Chance. Love.” He said, pausing between each word with a kiss.  He nuzzled around my sweet spot on my neck that made me go putty in his arms, the faint touch of the tip of his nose grazing along my neck before following it with a soft kiss.

“Not….fair.” I moaned.

“All’s fair in love and war love.” He teased as he continued to kiss and even nip at my sweet spot, marking me as his.  When I finally submitted to his desire by leaning my back against his chest, he finished off with one last kiss to my neck before coming back up and capturing my lips in a loving, sweet kiss.  His finger holding my chin as he deepened the kiss before separating.

“I would say something completely sappy right now but I know you’d roll your eyes and think it’s rubbish.”

“Can I just say, hearing you use British slang warms my heart. I’ve finally converted you.”

“Not a chance, you know Frank would do whatever it took to make sure I stayed American at heart.”

“Too bad it was swept away by a Brit.” He pecked my lips before reaching up and cupped my cheek.  “I can’t thank you enough for hearing me out about all this. I mean, I would’ve left you if you had asked or if it was too much but I—” I reached up and pressed my finger to his lips.

“Shhh. I don’t wanna hear another word of it. Yeah it’s gonna take time because again, it’s a lot to unpack but it doesn’t change how I feel about you. But I do have one condition before we continue this relationship now that I know the full truth.”

“Anything, name it.”

“Can I please meet your family now?” he chuckled and grazed our two noses together.

“I’ll send mum a letter tonight and we’ll head over to the Burrows tomorrow for lunch. But be warned, I didn’t lie about how my family acts. So expect an over-dotting mother, a father who asks too many questions, especially since you are a Muggle. He’s always found them fascinating. A sister whose been pleading to meet her next sister-in-law, and two brothers in particular whose a little git and the other who believes he’s the handsome twin when it’s actually me.” I giggled and said.

“They all sound wonderful. Not only from the stories you’ve told me but just because they’re your family. And if you are as half as what they represent, I’ll love them even more. Could I also maybe see your joke shop while we’re at it?”

“Slow down there love. First let’s see how you react to being in a wizard’s home before you step into my shop. Seeing too much magic at once can be a bit overwhelming. It was for Granger’s father seeing multiple things happening by themselves.”

“Fine.” I grumbled.

“Oi now,” he pecked my lips again.  “I promise, you’ll see it. Have I ever broken a promise to you?” I shook my head no.  “Then no more pouting. Just because you look cute doing it, doesn’t mean I want to see it. I prefer to see you smile or hear you laugh.” He gave my sides a quick poke making me shriek and jolt upward as I playfully glared at him while he laughed.  He held the back of my head and kissed my forehead softly before bringing me back into his embrace.

[fandomnerd9602]

Scarlet Weaves

Wanda Maximoff x Spider-Man!Reader

a Scarlet Webs story

It had been like a dream for Wanda. A new world. A new love. A new chance to live and love again.

She was undoubtedly in love with her Spider Monkey, you. It was amazing. The city welcomed her with open arms and even the press gave you and her a cute nickname: Scarlet Webs.

You and her had settled into a nice routine: breakfast with the team, patrol, date night, and then cuddle for the rest of the evening. It was simple, sweet, and it made Wanda feel like there could be a balance between hero and home life. Her heart only grew more and more for you. That life with a home and two little boys seemed so close to a reality.

So much so that she began looking at houses in the Queens area. It was just a mere fantasy but she just loved looking at pictures of houses in Queens. She even got so light jeering from Tony about it.

“Looking at housing for you and your web head?” He’d let out a little laugh. “Just pick one! I can buy any property you want. Just say the word, Red”

Tony kept you and the rest of the team on his payroll. Made sure that you and her were never starving or hurting for money.

Anyway that brings you and Wanda to tonight. You were having a little date night on the town. You were currently making out on a giant web that you spun in some hidden area of the city.

Wanda couldn’t help but giggle. It felt so enticing yet scandalous. You kept one hand on her back while the other was gently holding her cheek.

The two of you lost track of time as you rolled and kissed on that silky web. Wanda couldn’t help but feel like a teenager again.

“Detka” she whispers, out of breath.

“My little witch” you smile back as you gently massage her back. You never felt this way about anyone, let alone someone from another universe.

“I love you” she whispers against your lips.

“I love you and I’m crazy about you” you stare into her eyes longingly.

“I-I’ve been looking into some houses for us” she admits with a little embarrassed grin and blush.

“Really?” You ask back with smile. “You want a little place for us?”

She nods, “I-I love you and…I want to have a family with you. I-I know it seems like it’s all so fast and-“

You cut her off with another kiss. “I want you to be my family too. I’d love to grow old with you, have some kids with you, maybe have one too many drinks with you, watch some old sitcoms with you,” you found yourself rambling.

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh, she loved it when you rambled on like this.

She cut you off with a kiss of her own. “How about you feel about two boys and a little dog?”

“Sounds like paradise to me,” you answer back. “M-my aunt is selling her house in Queens”

“Really?”

“She’s allowing us to put in a bid for it. If you want” you shrug.

Wanda always loved your family. Honestly she could see herself growing old and raising a child or two in that house.

“Did you put in a bid?” She asks a little excitedly. You pull out a house key with a little smirk.

“We just have to sign the papers”

Wanda tackles you to your web, giggling and kissing you. In her excitement, Wanda’s hips end up grinding against yours. Her hands wander into your hair. Your own hands gently make their way under her shirt and up her spine. The two were lost in the heat of the moment. Little moans escape her lips. They were like a sweet symphony to your ears. How you longed to hear more.

“I love you. I love you so much!” Wanda cries. She never thought she could be this loved ever again.

“Wanda,” you groan a little, “we’re still technically out in public.

“Then take me home.” She purrs in your ear, “where no one can disturb us” she gently bites your lip.

“Yes ma’am” you whisper back as you pull her close and swing off your web.

Wanda Maximoff. The witch who literally fell out of her world and right into your arms. She finally found a reason to love again and a home to call her own. And it was all thanks to a little spider she calls her detka.

Tags @ma1egamer @jacelion @deafeningsharkslimeempath @moonpheus @rroyale-109 @scarletquake-n7 @iamnicodemus @lifespectator @aloneodi

[lovelyo]

Cressida Torture Porn

RANT INCOMING: What the absolute fuck is wrong with this show and their love for torturing Cressida? Do they get off in making this girl suffer? If I was in her position, I would go apeshit too.

All this girl wants is a genuine connection, to be valued and all people do is knock her down. She lashes out horribly on people just like Penelope, but she’s punished while Penelope is considered a girlboss even though Cressida’s home environment is shittier than Penelope’s. Her hope from her suffocating fate was Eloise only for Eloise to push her to the side for a friend who lied to her for years and screwed her over. Got called a viper (EVEN THOUGH ELOISE KNOWS WHO LW IS! 🤬🤡) by the person she always wanted to befriend even before Eloise fell out with Penelope.

Cressida saved Eloise from loneliness but Eloise didn’t reciprocate when Cressida was in need. Even then, she liked Eloise so much that before she left to get shipped away to even a more emotionally absent relative, she wanted to reconcile with Eloise, but Eloise closed the chapter. She tried to say goodbye to Eloise before she left. Eloise didn’t even bother to look Cressida’s way when she left.

All for Penelope who has done considerably more damage to her than anyone. 😐😑

It was the first time ever I was genuinely upset at Eloise. Eloise knew about Cressida’s ordeal but still vilified her and abandon her like she was a side piece(ain’t far from the truth really). Eloise unfortunately had to drink the OOC Koolaid for Penelope to get her HEA. This made me despise Penelope more btw. While everyone is in a damn romantic sitcom catering to Pen, Cressida is fighting for her life in this SAW trap where it’s do or get fucked.

Cressida was a bitch throughout the show until we came upon her reasonings in S3 which made her more of a sympathetic character than Penelope ever was. We should feel bad for this “woe is me” jackass who’s more privileged than anyone in this goddamn show but not the one who has parents that are emotional as a spiked bat?

The one who’s been indoctrinated heavily by her mother to treat other women like enemies?

The one where it’s her 3rd time on the marriage mart, got the guy she had her sights on get taken away just for Penelope to say sike and marry Colin and for Lord Debling to go MIA?(the same happened to her with the fucking prince in season 1!)

The one who’s being forced to marry an old man cause rarely anyone wants her?

The one who lost a friendship she thought was genuine while that friend is going around dunking on her name?

The one who is actually looked down by the ton because they can’t take her seriously?

Her life pretty much sucks but the show keeps trying to shove in our faces that Cressida is a bully so she got what she deserved. Fuck Cressida Cowper, amirite?

Oh Christ.

I’m not justifying her rude and sometimes cringe actions, but if people can “understand” why Penelope does what she does, why can’t people extend the same courtesy to Cressida? Oh yes, she was mean to the show’s golden child so she gets the hammer.

Cressida didn’t expose Penelope to the queen even though she could have. She wasn’t even the one who wrote the fake Bridgerton slander, it was her mom and she even confronted her mom and made her displeasure known about it!

All she wanted was money to be free from her fate. She was desperate but the Bridgertons are like “haha u stupid and u suck. Speaking of suck, time to go suck on Penelope’s toes.”

Yeah, Cressida isn’t clever, she’s stupid right? Stupid enough to quickly figure out who LW was before you Bitchgertons. You hacks didn’t even figure it out when Colin and Penelope’s engagement was printed THE NEXT DAY!

They did Cressida so dirty this season like it’s really heartbreaking, no joke. Cressida is the true victim, not the redhead who got an undeserved HEA cause self-inserters and favoritism.

P.S. Penelope keeping her persona but just using her real name is SO FUCKING STUPID

[carlos-in-glasses]

Nice ask week! Hi Cig!! :) What was your favourite childhood TV show if you had one? And what was TK and Carlos' favourite show as a kid or teen?

Hello! Thank you for this question! I really enjoyed TV as a kid so there's a lot I could choose from - I think we were very lucky with the quality of British TV in the 90s. But the first thing to pop into my head is The Queen's Nose (the first two seasons), which are on Youtube! I need to re-watch.

The premise is that a rebellious 12 year old girl who lives in an amazing house in like the Marylebone area of London (!!!) is very close with her mystical hippie uncle, who pays her family a visit. She's constantly wishing her life was different (which I now do not understand at all because of her incredible house) so her uncle gives her a magical 50p coin that grants 10 wishes if she rubs the queen's nose. Chaos and important life lessons ensue.

It's very well-written, very 90s London, quite spooky, and full of amazing background details and has a depth that makes it feel real. It captured my imagination and is probably more of an influence on me creatively than I've realised.

EDITING TO ADD!! Because I banged on about my fave TV show and forgot to answer the second part of the question! Carlos' favourite TV show as a kid was Bear in the Big Blue House, which I wrote about in my chapter of The Wonder of It haha. He definitely vibed with that happy, snuggly bear. And I think as a teen he'd have been into Friday Night Lights. I can see TK being very into Sesame Street and sitcoms, but maybe more of a movie person than a TV person. I think he'd have liked horrors and thrillers as an emo teen.

I can't find a Queen's Nose gif :( so please have a classic Tarlos nuzzle:

[invisibleicewands]

Michael Sheen: Prince Andrew, Port Talbot and why I quit Hollywood

When Michael Sheen had an idea for a dystopian TV series based in his home town of Port Talbot, in which riots erupt when the steel works close, he had no idea said works would actually close — a month before the show came to air. “Devastating,” he says, simply, of last month’s decision by Tata Steel to shut the plant’s two blast furnaces and put 2,800 jobs at risk.

“Those furnaces are part of our psyche,” he says. “When the Queen died we talked about how psychologically massive it was for the country because people couldn’t imagine life without her. The steel works are like that for Port Talbot.”

Sheen’s show — The Way — was never meant to be this serious. The BBC1 three-parter is directed by Sheen, was written by James Graham and has the montage king Adam Curtis on board as an executive producer. The plot revolves around a family who, when the steel works are closed by foreign investors, galvanise the town into a revolt that leads to the Welsh border being shut. Polemical, yes, but it has a lightness of touch. “A mix of sitcom and war film,” Sheen says, beaming.

But that was then. Now it has become the most febrile TV show since, well, Mr Bates vs the Post Office. “We wanted to get this out quickly,” Sheen says. With heavy surveillance, police clamping down on protesters and nods to Westminster abandoning parts of the country, the series could be thought of as a tad political. “The concern was if it was too close to an election the BBC would get nervous.”

I meet Sheen in London, where he is ensconced in the National Theatre rehearsing for his forthcoming starring role in Nye, a “fantasia” play based on the life of the NHS founder, Labour’s Aneurin “Nye” Bevan. He is dressed down, with stubble and messy hair, and is a terrific raconteur, with a lot to discuss. As well as The Way and Nye, this year the actor will also transform himself into Prince Andrew for a BBC adaptation of the Emily Maitlis Newsnight interview.

Sheen has played a rum bunch, from David Frost to Tony Blair and Chris Tarrant. And we will get to Bevan and Andrew, but first Wales, where Sheen, 55, was born in 1969 and, after a stint in Los Angeles, returned to a few years ago. He has settled outside Port Talbot with his partner, Anna Lundberg, a 30-year-old actress, and their two children. Sheen’s parents still live in the area, so the move was partly for family, but mostly to be a figurehead. The actor has been investing in local arts, charities and more, putting his money where his mouth is to such an extent that there is a mural of his face up on Forge Road.

“It’s home,” Sheen says, shrugging, when I ask why he abandoned his A-list life for southwest Wales. “I feel a deep connection to it.” The seed was sown in 2011 when he played Jesus in Port Talbot in an epic three-day staging of the Passion, starring many locals who were struggling with job cuts and the rising cost of living in their town. “Once you become aware of difficulties in the area you come from you don’t have to do anything,” he says, with a wry smile. “You can live somewhere else, visit family at Christmas and turn a blind eye to injustice. It doesn’t make you a bad person, but I’d seen something I couldn’t unsee. I had to apply myself, and I might not have the impact I’d like, but the one thing that I can say is that I’m doing stuff. I know I am — I’m paying for it!”

The Way is his latest idea to boost the area. The show, which was shot in Port Talbot last year, employed residents in front of and behind the camera. The extras in a scene in which fictional steel workers discuss possible strike action came from the works themselves. How strange they will feel watching it now. The director shakes his head. “It felt very present and crackling.”

One line in the show feels especially crucial: “The British don’t revolt, they grumble.” How revolutionary does Sheen think Britain is? “It happens in flare-ups,” he reasons. “You could say Brexit was a form of it and there is something in us that is frustrated and wants to vent. But these flare-ups get cracked down, so the idea of properly organised revolution is hard to imagine. Yet the more anger there is, the more fear about the cost of living crisis. Well, something’s got to give.”

I mention the Brecon Beacons. “Ah, yes, Bannau Brycheiniog,” Sheen says with a flourish. Last year he spearheaded the celebration of the renaming of the national park to Welsh, which led some to ponder whether Sheen might go further in the name of Welsh nationalism. Owen Williams, a member of the independence campaigners YesCymru, described him to me as “Nye Bevan via Che Guevara” and added that the actor might one day be head of state in an independent Wales.

Sheen bursts out laughing. “Right!” he booms. “Well, for a long time [the head of state] was either me or Huw Edwards, so I suppose that’s changed.” He laughs again. “Gosh. I don’t know what to say.” Has he, though, become a sort of icon for an independent Wales? “I’ve never actually spoken about independence,” he says. “The only thing I’ve said is that it’s worth a conversation. Talking about independence is a catalyst for other issues that need to be talked about. Shutting that conversation down is of no value at all. People say Wales couldn’t survive economically. Well, why not? And is that good? Is that a good reason to stay in the union?”

On a roll, he talks about how you can’t travel from north to south Wales by train without going into England because the rail network was set up to move stuff out of Wales, not round it. He mentions the collapse of local journalism and funding cuts to National Theatre Wales, and says these are the conversations he wants to have — but where in Wales are they taking place?

So, for Sheen, the discussion is about thinking of Wales as independent in identity, not necessarily as an independent state? “As a living entity,” he says, is how he wants people to think about his country. “It’s much more, for me, about exploring what that cultural identity of now is, rather than it being all about the past,” he says. “We had a great rugby team in the 1970s, but it’s not the 1970s anymore and, yes, male-voice choirs make us cry, but there are few left. Mines aren’t there either. All the things that are part of the cultural identity of Wales are to do with the past and, for me, it’s much more about exploring what is alive about Welsh identity now.”

You could easily forget that Sheen is an actor. He calls himself a “not for profit” thesp, meaning he funds social projects, from addiction to disability sports. “I juggle things more,” he says. “Also I have young kids again and I don’t want to be away much.”

Sheen has an empathetic face, a knack of making the difficult feel personable. And there are two big roles incoming — a relief to fans.

Which leads us to Prince Andrew. “Of course it does.” This year he plays the troubled duke in A Very Royal Scandal — a retelling of the Emily Maitlis fiasco with Ruth Wilson as the interviewer. Does the show go to Pizza Express in Woking? “No,” Sheen says, grinning. Why play the prince? He thinks about this a lot. “Inevitably you bring humanity to a character — that’s certainly what I try to do.” He pauses. “I don’t want people to say, ‘It was Sheen who got everybody behind Andrew again.’ But I also don’t want to do a hatchet job.”

So what is he trying to do? “Well, it is a story about privilege really,” he says. “And how easy it is for privilege to exploit. We’ve found a way of keeping the ambiguity, because, legally, you can’t show stuff that you cannot prove, but whether guilty or not, his privilege is a major factor in whatever exploitation was going on. Beyond the specifics of Andrew and Epstein, no matter who you are, privilege has the potential to exploit someone. For Andrew, it’s: ‘This girl is being brought to me and I don’t really care where she comes from, or how old she is, this is just what happens for people like me.’”

It must have been odd having the prince and Bevan — the worst and best of our ruling classes — in his head at the same time. What, if anything, links the men? “What is power and what can you do with it?” Sheen muses, which seems to speak to his position in Port Talbot too. Nye at the National portrays the Welsh politician on his deathbed, in an NHS hospital, moving through his memories while doped up on meds. Sheen wants the audience to think: “Is there a Bevan in politics now and, if not, why not?”

Which takes us back to The Way. At the start one rioter yells about wanting to “change everything” — he means politically, sociologically. However, assuming that changing everything is not possible, what is the one thing Sheen would change? “Something practical? Not ‘I want world peace’. I would create a people’s chamber as another branch of government — like the Lords, there’d be a House of People, representing their community. Our political system has become restrictive and nonrepresentational, so something to open that up would be good.”

The actor is a thousand miles from his old Hollywood life. “It’d take a lot for me to work in America again — my life is elsewhere.” It is in Port Talbot instead. “The last man on the battlefield” is how one MP describes the steel works in The Way, and Sheen is unsure what happens when that last man goes. “Some people say it’s to do with net zero aims,” he says about the closure. “Others blame Brexit. But, ultimately, the people of Port Talbot have been let down — and there is no easy answer about what comes next.”

[mariacallous]

Patti LuPone stood in a midtown recording studio one spring afternoon, talking to Carrie Bradshaw. LuPone, who descends from what she calls Sicilian peasant stock, had filmed an arc on the upcoming season of “And Just Like That . . . ,” as the Italian mama of Giuseppe (Sebastiano Pigazzi), the young boyfriend of Carrie’s gay pal Anthony (Mario Cantone). She was now recording some dialogue tweaks in postproduction. On a monitor, her character, Gianna, was greeting Carrie at a party. At the microphone, LuPone tried out different line readings: “Ciao.” (Imperious.) “Ciao!” (Warm.) “Ciao-ciao!” (Sprightly.)

“Just fill it up a little bit,” the showrunner, Michael Patrick King, instructed.

“I like your dress verrry much. Verrry pretty,” LuPone purred in an Italian accent.

“Shit, now I have to call the Writers Guild,” King joked, about her ad-lib. They moved on to a scene in which Gianna spars with Anthony in his apartment. King had written LuPone a saucy exit line: “Questo corridoio puzza,” which translates to “This hallway stinks.” LuPone gave him options, punching her “P”s: “Questo corridoio puzza!” (Pugnacious.) “Questo corridoio puzza.” (Droll.) “Questo corridoio puzza! Ugh!” (Revolted.) When they wrapped, King told her, “You are a delight.”

“Thank you for including me, honest to God,” LuPone said. “And just, you know, think of me. Because I don’t want to be onstage anymore. Period.”

This was almost like a queen proclaiming her abdication. LuPone is Broadway’s reigning grande dame, with a big voice and an even bigger mouth. She’s one of the city’s last living broads: brassy, belty, and profane, with the ferocity of a bullet train coming right at you. She’s as famous for playing musical theatre’s iron ladies—Eva Perón in “Evita,” Rose in “Gypsy”—as she is for her offstage rumbles. She’s fought with Andrew Lloyd Webber, who in the nineties replaced her with Glenn Close in his musical “Sunset Boulevard.” (LuPone trashed her dressing room, sued his company, and used part of the settlement to build herself a pool, which she christened the Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Swimming Pool.) She’s fought with co-stars. (In her memoir, she called Bill Smitrovich, who played her husband on the TV drama “Life Goes On,” a “thoroughly distasteful man.” Smitrovich: “She’s a very, very guileful woman.”) She has even fought with audience members. She once palmed a cellphone from a texter’s hand, mid-play. In 2022, during a talkback for the musical “Company,” she berated a spectator, “Put your mask over your nose. . . . That is the rule. If you don’t want to follow the rule, get the fuck out!” Ask her about Madonna (“a movie killer”) or “Real Housewives” (“I really don’t want to know about those trashy lives”), and you’ll get a zinger worthy of Bette Davis—one of her heroines, along with Édith Piaf. (“I prefer the flawed to the perfect,” she told me.) Her bluntness has made her a kind of urban folk hero. On the Tony Awards red carpet in 2017, she declared that she would never perform for President Trump. Asked why, she responded, “Because I hate the motherfucker, how’s that?” The clip went viral.

At seventy-six, LuPone has acquired an unlikely cool factor. Since winning her second Tony—for “Gypsy,” in 2008—she’s played herself on “Glee” and “Girls,” a bathhouse singer on “American Horror Story,” and an occultist on “Penny Dreadful,” and she’s voiced a yellow giant on the cult sitcom “Steven Universe” and a socialite mouse on “BoJack Horseman.” The indie director Ari Aster cast her as a harridan mother in “Beau Is Afraid,” and last year she joined the Marvel Cinematic Universe, as a witch in “Agatha All Along.” “She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks,” her coven-mate Aubrey Plaza told me. Last fall, Plaza ended up living in her apartment, at LuPone’s urging, while making her Off Broadway début. “She basically kept me alive,” Plaza said. “I would wake up, and she would be making me soup. One morning, she was carving a turkey, and she would go, ‘Doll, I have to go out of town for some gigs, but I’m gonna carve this up and put it in the fridge, and you’re gonna make sandwiches with it throughout the week.’ ”

Bridget Everett, the raunchy alt-cabaret performer who starred in HBO’s “Somebody Somewhere,” met LuPone through the director and lyricist Scott Wittman. LuPone brought Everett onstage at Carnegie Hall for a duet, and they’re now developing a double act called “Knockouts.” “You think of her as the greatest living Broadway legend,” Everett told me. “You don’t think of her as a person. So when, all of a sudden, you’re out in the country and she hops in the pool buck naked, you’re, like, ‘O.K., there’s Patti LuPone! Let’s roll.’ ”

After her dubbing session, LuPone collected her crocodile purse and got into an S.U.V. on Eighth Avenue. As it lurched past the theatre district, she explained why she is, at least for now, done with Broadway. “I’m so angry at whoever choked the stem right in the middle by making Times Square a pedestrian mall,” she said. When she was starring in “Company,”LuPone would carry a bullhorn and yell at pedestrians from her car window. “It’s impossible for us to get to work,” she told me. “And I said that years ago. So I start work angry. I can’t get to my theatre, because of the traffic pattern, because of the arrogance of the people in the streets. It’s a road. Get out of the street.”

She preferred the gritty old New York of the sixties and seventies, when she moved from Long Island to make her name. Sure, the city was broke. Sure, there were muggers. (Once, when a stranger groped her friend near Grant’s Tomb, LuPone turned “she-lion”—her word—and shrieked at the guy until he fled into Riverside Park.) Sure, she heard a “scream of death” one night outside her window, in Chelsea, and knew that somebody was getting murdered. But the city was “bankrupt, dangerous, and creative,” she insisted. Now it’s all gone corporate, including the theatre, which she worries has reverted to “the gaiety phase of Broadway, when it was just follies and Ziegfeld girls.”

She’s even angrier at the rest of the country. She told me, more than once, that the Trumpified Kennedy Center “should get blown up.” In the S.U.V., apropos the current Administration, she pronounced, “Leave. New York. Alone. Make it its own country. I mean, is there any other city in America that’s as diverse, as in-your-face? It’s a live-or-die city, it really is. Stick it out or leave.” The car dropped her off at a restaurant on the Upper West Side. She asked for sherry—she’d discovered it while doing “Les Misérables” in England in the eighties—but the bartender said that they didn’t carry it, so she settled for a glass of rosé, with a side of ice cubes.

In person, LuPone is fun-seeking and dishy. She recalled one of her first trips into Manhattan, to see Saint-Saëns’s “Samson and Delilah” at the Met. “They were two of the fattest people I’ve ever seen onstage,” she told me. “There was a bed, two very large singers, a male and a female, and a bowl of fruit on the bed. And all I could concentrate on was that bowl of fruit and when they were gonna knock it to the floor.” She let out a big, booming “HA!”

LuPone was snapped out of her reverie by two chatty young women at the next table. “The whole city is so fucking loud,” she groused. “People have forgotten that they’re in public.” She leaned over to ask them, politely but firmly, “Ladies, excuse me, do you mind keeping it down just a little bit? We’re trying to have a conversation.” They obeyed.

LuPone ordered a fried artichoke, sliced in half. “I have a love-hate relationship with New York, because of what it forces you to face,” she went on. She likes that New Yorkers can sniff out a bullshitter, but her intolerance to bullshit gets her into trouble. “On a woman, they don’t like that smell,” she said. “People ask, Why am I a gay icon? I go, Don’t ask me. Ask them. But I think they see a struggle in me, or how I’ve overcome a struggle. What else am I going to do?”

She picked apart the artichoke with her fingers. “I’ve been punished for wondering what was going on since I was four,” she said, again punching her “P”s. “The question was always ‘Why?’ The answer was not permitted. To this day, if I express myself in a way that somebody doesn’t like, they will say, ‘Oh, that’s Patti.’ ” She lowered her voice and narrowed her eyes, like a tigress ready to pounce. “What the fuck are you talking about? What do you know about me, that you can say, ‘Well, that’s Patti’? And yet I never stopped asking the question ‘Why?’ ”

LuPone bristles when people call her a diva, which they do often. “I know what I’m worth to a production,” she said, her lips skewing diagonally in agitation. “I know that I’m box-office. Don’t nickel-and-dime me before you put me onstage. Don’t treat me like a piece of shit. Because, at this point, if you don’t value me, why am I there?”

If LuPone is the New Yorkiest of Broadway stars, it’s not just because of her powerhouse voice. It’s because she fights her own battles, the way the city makes you fight through rush-hour crowds. But she didn’t ask for it to be this way. “Why do I have to fight?” she asked herself, tearing out the artichoke’s heart. “What am I learning in this life that I’m atoning for from the last one? What is it that forces me to fight? Seriously. Why wasn’t it easier?”

LuPone’s many oft-recounted struggles began at four years old, when she wandered off her family’s property, in Northport, Long Island, to visit a friend. Crossing a field, she got sidetracked by some birds and butterflies. “They’re looking all over the place for you!” her friend’s father yelled when she arrived. “When I got home, I saw police cars and fire engines, and I hid under my bed,” she recalled. “When they found me, I got a serious spanking with no explanation. There was no dialogue. You did the wrong thing—smack, smack. But why?”

The LuPones lived on an apple orchard amid subdivided farmland. Northport back then was a small fishing village—at one point, the mayor was also the funeral director—with boggy wetlands and rocky bluffs overlooking the bay. Johnny Carson would sometimes moor his yacht there, and LuPone would buzz it with her father’s boat, shouting, “Johnny! Hi!” It was a bucolic place to grow up, but LuPone sensed a menacing energy, what she called the town’s “deep underbelly.”

A furtive darkness ran in her family, too. Her mother’s parents, the Pattis (her first name is her mother’s maiden name), were immigrant bootleggers; their sewing room had removable floorboards to hide whiskey. Late in life, LuPone learned that her maternal grandfather had been murdered in 1927, possibly with her grandmother’s collusion; one newspaper reported that his body had been found “in a pool of blood caused by three wounds in his head.” “All I knew was that, growing up, every Sunday, my mother would call my grandmother, and the two of them would talk in Italian, and my mother would be crying her eyes out,” LuPone said. Why?

Her father, Orlando, was the principal of her elementary school, and her mother, who went by Pat, “played the part of a Long Island housewife,” LuPone said; being a principal’s wife required “a hostess element, a façade, because she had to entertain the teachers.” Once, overhearing her parents fight, LuPone packed her books in a suitcase, stood at the kitchen door, and declared, “Goodbye, cruel world!” Her parents divorced when she was twelve, after Pat discovered that Orlando was having an affair with a substitute teacher. LuPone remembers her mother herding her and her older twin brothers, Bobby and Billy, into a car and driving to a nearby town. “We snuck up to this house and looked in the basement window, and there was my dad sitting in a chair and this woman sitting at his knees, and my mother put her fist through the cellar window,” she said. She didn’t see her father again for decades.

“My brothers were freaked out more than I was,” LuPone recalled. “I said to Bobby, ‘Honey, we’re free to pursue show business now!’ Daddy wanted us to be teachers. I was, like, ‘No thanks.’ ” Pat drove her daughter to voice lessons, informing her that her great-grandaunt was the nineteenth-century coloratura Adelina Patti. LuPone and her brothers had a dance group, the LuPone Trio, which performed on Ted Mack’s “The Original Amateur Hour.” “They had an adagio act,” her childhood friend Philip Caggiano said. “Bobby would heave Patti into the air, and Billy would catch her.” At school, she immersed herself in music, singing Haydn with the chorus and playing sousaphone in the marching band. “I remember, in the cafeteria of our junior high school, saying, ‘I want to sing just like Earl Wrightson,’ ” Caggiano recalled. “And Patti said, ‘I want to sing like Patti LuPone.’ ”

She knew that she had a Broadway-sized voice, but she was a “closet rocker, or a closet groupie,” she said. One New Year’s Eve, she and a friend drove upstate to Saugerties in a blizzard to “find the Band—and we got so close.” She moved to Manhattan at eighteen and spent a year partying at discothèques, then joined the inaugural class of the drama division at Juilliard, where her brother Bobby had studied dance. The drama program was run by the legendary actor-producer John Houseman, who had worked with Orson Welles. LuPone said, “John Houseman went out and found thirty-six of the craziest people he could find, to see whether he could strip down their personalities and create a ‘Juilliard actor.’ ”

The training was incoherent. One teacher would espouse one method—René Auberjonois told them, “Acting is fucking”—only to land a gig and be replaced by another teacher with a conflicting method. Of the original class, thirteen graduated. “They wanted to throw me out of school, so they threw all sorts of roles in my direction to make me fail as an actor—but what they did was train one actor in versatility,” LuPone likes to say. Houseman criticized her diction, calling her Flannel Mouth—hence her compensatory overenunciation—and once told her that she had “the smell of the gallows.” (It was a compliment, but she was too intimidated to ask what it meant.) “I cried myself to sleep every night my first year,” she said.

Her third year, three “advanced” students joined the class. One was Kevin Kline. “I took an instant dislike to him,” LuPone recalled. “He looked like Pinocchio to me. He had skinny legs, and he was tall, and I didn’t really see the handsomeness.” That changed one day in art-appreciation class, when they sat together in the back and started “feeling each other up,” LuPone said. Their turbulent on-and-off relationship lasted seven years. “He was a Lothario,” she recalled. “It was a painful relationship. I was his girlfriend when he wanted me to be his girlfriend, but, if there was somebody else, he would break up with me and go out with that person. And I, for some reason, stuck it out—until I couldn’t stick it out anymore.” Kline remembered the relationship as “fraught.” “We fought all the time,” he told me. “In the company, we were known as the Strindbergs.”

After graduation, in 1972, the drama class formed a repertory troupe called the Acting Company. They’d do comedy of manners in Saratoga, Chekhov in Omaha. “Patti was always pissed that, whenever there was a whore to play, she usually got the whore’s part,” her classmate Sam Tsoutsouvas remembered. The troupe also played Broadway, where, in 1975, LuPone and Kline starred in the musical “The Robber Bridegroom.” She received her first Tony nomination the same season that her brother Bobby was nominated for playing the director in “A Chorus Line.” After four years, she and ten other company members rebelled against their overseers and quit en masse, “like America breaking away from the British Empire,” Tsoutsouvas said.

While touring, LuPone had met the young playwright David Mamet, who cast her, Kline, and Tsoutsouvas in his play “All Men Are Whores,” at Yale Cabaret. LuPone felt at home with Mamet’s dialogue; its raw aggression gave language to her own. “The writing, once I understood the rhythm, became the easiest thing to speak,” she said. “I learned more about acting from David Mamet than I learned in four years at Juilliard.” Despite their divergent politics—Mamet has gone MAGA—their collaboration has endured. In response to several written questions, Mamet sent me back the following: “Opening night on Broadway of ‘The Old Neighborhood,’ I was looking for Patti around 7 P.M. and found her onstage asleep in the kitchen counter of the set. I understood it as a Sicilian Panic Attack.”

In 1979, LuPone won the role of Eva Perón, the power-hungry First Lady of Argentina, in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical “Evita.” It was, she recalled, a “vitriolic experience.” The score was so punishing that she blew out her voice days before the L.A. tryout; a doctor told her that her vocal cords looked like raw hamburger meat. The director, Hal Prince, wanted her to play Eva as cold and unsmiling, contrary to her instincts. She had a matinée alternate who she was convinced was gunning for her job, and some of the dancers kept telling her how Elaine Paige had done the part in London. “I said, ‘Stop right there. Let me figure it out for myself,’ ” she recalled. “So I made enemies in rehearsal.” This, she believes, forged her reputation as a prima donna. “I had maybe three allies in the company,” she said. “It was Beirut from my dressing room to the stage. I had no support. I faced this trial by fire by myself.”

I spoke to a former “Evita” chorus boy who remembered LuPone as “a bit of a mess and undisciplined and driving Hal crazy.” But he also told a story that validated her sense of being messed with. After a rainy day of rehearsal, he shared a taxi with her, and they became chummy. Then Prince’s general manager ordered him to keep his distance from the leading lady. “I was very upset. I thought it had come from Patti—that I had offended her. So, from that minute on, I absolutely iced her. In retrospect, I realized they wanted to control her by isolating her.”

The show made LuPone an overnight star. She won the Tony, and everyone from Ava Gardner to Andy Warhol flocked to her dressing room. But she never made peace with the pain. “They say it’s the way you learn,” she said. “But is it necessary? It hurt so much.”

One way she coped with the stress was hockey. On Sunday nights, when “Evita” was dark, LuPone would go to Rangers games at Madison Square Garden, where, the Times reported, in 1982, she became a “regular in Section 27AA,” right behind the opposition net. She had a standing invitation from a cousin of her neighbors back in Northport, David Ingraham, whom she called a “Quaker slash arbitrage stockbroker slash high roller.” “It was high Greek drama right before my very eyes,” she recalled. “They were gladiators!” Because she was on strict vocal rest offstage, she’d pound the boards without screaming, using her voice only when she was asked to perform the national anthem.

“It’s a great spectator sport,” she told me. “Baseball bores the shit out of me—so slow. Football: I don’t get it, except I like them in their nice, tight spandex and their dreadlocks.” She did a Mae West shimmy.

LuPone would party with the hockey players, and they’d come see her shows. Ulf Nilsson, then a Rangers center from Sweden, told me, “If it was a face-off at her end, I could smile and more or less say hello to her while I was playing.” LuPone and Nilsson became close; he was the only player who put in his bio that he loved the theatre. “I probably saw ‘Evita’ about ten times,” he said. “And once I was allowed to stay right behind the stage!” (The former chorus boy remembered that the athletes LuPone had invited to watch from the wings blocked the actors’ entrances, infuriating the cast.)

The press couldn’t get enough of Broadway’s breakout star mingling with New York’s home team, and rumors spread that LuPone was dating the Rangers’ curly-haired Adonis Ron Duguay. LuPone says they were just acquaintances. (She did date an Edmonton Oiler who broke her heart.) But she remembers berating Duguay when he went to “Evita” and spent part of the show flirting with his agent at the bar. He’s now dating Sarah Palin. “They’re perfect for each other,” LuPone told me. “They’re two of the stupidest human beings on the face of the earth.” Then she paused. “How do you say stupid without saying stupid? He’s a box of bricks.” (“Wow, that’s hurtful,” Duguay said, when I reached him by phone, adding, “I can’t imagine living my life being so hateful that way.”)

One morning, LuPone called me and asked, “What are you doing tomorrow night?” Within minutes, she’d used her hockey connections to get us V.I.P. tickets to see the Rangers play against the Toronto Maple Leafs. “Seven-o’clock puck drop,” she told me in a voice memo. We met at a private dining room high in Madison Square Garden. Steve Schirripa, who played Bobby Bacala on “The Sopranos,” was sitting at the next table and gave LuPone a big hello. (Her brother Bobby, who died in 2022, played Tony Soprano’s neighbor Bruce Cusamano.) She tried to order a sherry—no dice. “Nobody has sherry!” she moaned.

LuPone had brought along Pat White, who became her longtime backstage dresser after the 1987 revival of “Anything Goes.” I remembered White from LuPone’s Tony speech for “Gypsy,” in which she thanked “my very own Thelma Ritter, friend, and wrangler, Pat, who gives me a shot every single night. I don’t know what’s in it, but I’m giving the performance of my life!” (The shot joke was White’s idea.) “The people who have become star dressers know how to anticipate—and how to defuse,” LuPone said, drawing out the “Z” sound. “A lot of things can upset the equilibrium of an actor, and musicals, in my opinion, are by their very nature a vicious beast.”

White, a reserved woman in her sixties with a thick Massachusetts accent, agreed. During “Sweeney Todd,” in 2005, White would read out their horoscopes from the Post while LuPone got made up. One night, LuPone realized that White was reading her the wrong horoscope, and White admitted, “If yours is bad, I just read you the best one out of all of them.”

After dinner, we were escorted to the ice: second row, behind the Toronto bench. “I’m so happy!” LuPone said, giddy, sipping rosé out of a plastic cup through a straw. Her son, Josh, had told her to keep an eye on the Leafs’ No. 34, Auston Matthews. She reapplied her lipstick as the teams skated out. “I’m going to root for whoever wins,” she said.

A tenor who had been on Broadway in “The Phantom of the Opera” came out to sing the anthems. LuPone stood and sang along to “O Canada” but grimaced at “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which she finds too martial and hard to sing. “Good luck with this one, Mister,” she grumbled, declining to join in.

“I predict the Leafs winning,” she said as the game began, citing her “Sicilian witch instinct.” Nilsson had told me that acting and hockey are similar, because both require focus. But LuPone didn’t see much overlap. “It was all sex appeal,” she recalled of her hockey fixation. “It was rare to have anything in common except for the party that we were going to.” Soon she was shouting at the players, “Take your clothes off, boys! Naked hockey! No cups—I want full frontal! HA!”

“They have to wear skates,” White chimed in. “And the helmets.”

LuPone grunted, “Does anyone still wear a hat?”

The Leafs scored, and she cheered. Less so for the Rangers—she’d been turned off by all the U.S.A. jingoism. She also disapproved of the jumbotron (“Don’t tell me how I should feel”) and the fan contests during commercial breaks (“Too much shit going on”). After the first period, with the Leafs ahead 2–1, she retired to a V.I.P. lounge and recalled her “Evita” days. At curtain call, she said, her applause would dip after the ovation for Mandy Patinkin, who played the populist narrator Che. “I had to convince myself it was because I was so good in the part that they couldn’t make up their minds how they felt about me,” she said. “People thought I was a blond bitch, a fascist, a Nazi sympathizer.” To make herself feel better, she started performing a midnight cabaret act on Saturdays after the show, at the Chelsea club Les Mouches. She would cover Petula Clark and Patti Smith and let her wild side run free: “It was a desire for people to see who I really was.”

During the second period of the hockey game, she got restless. “The fighting is so stupid,” she groaned, as two players brawled. “They look like idiots.” The Leafs scored again, and she wiggled two fingers above her head—her Sicilian witch antennae. I asked her if her affinity for the away team echoed her struggle to win over the audience as Evita. “I gravitate toward the unexpected one, I really do,” she said. At the second intermission, with the Leafs up 4–2, the announcer welcomed a couple of excited children who had won rides on the Zambonis. “Who gives a shit?” LuPone bellowed. She had an early flight, so she left.

“Let me know who wins,” she deadpanned.

One evening, LuPone was onstage at Symphony Space, on the Upper West Side, warming up with the piano. She ran through “Fever,” “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered,” and “Anything Goes,” but there was a good chance that she wouldn’t perform any of them. The concert, “Songs from a Hat,” was designed like a parlor game: spectators would reach into a top hat and pull out numbered cards, and LuPone would sing the corresponding songs—mostly showstoppers she’d claimed over her career, such as “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” or “The Ladies Who Lunch.”

An hour later, she reappeared in a glittery black dress. The format cast LuPone as a woman up for a dare. “I have no idea what I’m going to sing,” she told the crowd, “and it’s the most fun I have onstage.” A woman in the front row picked No. 5. “Oh, God,” LuPone said. “I did this show on Broadway—for two weeks.” It was “As Long As He Needs Me,” from “Oliver!” She had starred in a failed revival in 1984, her first Broadway show after “Evita.”

Her eighties career had its ups and downs. She left “Evita” after twenty-one months, because “I lost my sense of humor,” she said. She declined an offer to play Lady Macbeth at Lincoln Center—“I said, ‘Haven’t I just been playing her for two years?’ ”—and instead went into “As You Like It” at the Guthrie, in Minneapolis, because she wanted to work with the Romanian director Liviu Ciulei. (During that show’s run, she got kicked out of Prince’s night club after she screamed at some people who were booing her cousin’s punk band.) She played Harrison Ford’s sister in “Witness,” but Hollywood’s interest in her was intermittent. At one point, she starred in a dead-end TV pilot as a singing ghost who haunts a laundromat. Nearly a dozen fizzled plays after “Evita,” she was cast as Fantine in the Royal Shakespeare Company’s première of “Les Misérables,” in London. It was a runaway hit, but she chose not to remain with the show when it went to Broadway, because her experience with the R.S.C. was so perfect that she didn’t want to taint it. “I’ve never known whether I’ve made the right decision,” she told the Symphony Space crowd, when someone picked “I Dreamed a Dream” from the hat.

In 1989, she went to L.A. to star in the ABC drama “Life Goes On,” as the suburban mother of a son with Down syndrome. “For four years,” she wrote in her memoir, “I played a docile mom in a patriarchal family.” By the series’s end, she was bored silly and no longer on speaking terms with her onscreen husband. Scott Wittman was helping her devise a solo act when she landed what seemed like the part of a lifetime: Norma Desmond in the musical version of “Sunset Boulevard.”

It turned out to be the biggest debacle of her career. Her London reviews were mixed; Frank Rich, in the Times, called her “miscast and unmoving.” Meanwhile, Lloyd Webber had cast Glenn Close in a concurrent L.A. production—LuPone thought it was a ploy to gin up a rivalry—and Close’s wraithlike approach won raves. LuPone was contracted to follow the role to Broadway, but she found out from Liz Smith’s column that she was being dumped for Close. The repudiation, mirroring Hollywood’s abandonment of Norma, only deepened her remaining performances in London. “I’d felt rejection, but not that kind of rejection,” LuPone said. Years later, at a Kennedy Center tribute to Barbara Cook, Close took a seat next to LuPone. “She said, ‘I had nothing to do with it,’ ” LuPone recalled. “I wanted to go, ‘Bullshit, bitch!’ ”

The recovery was hard. LuPone took out her fury on her husband, Matt Johnston. “It almost broke up our marriage,” she said. (They’d met when she was playing Lady Bird Johnson in a TV movie and he was a camera assistant; they married on the set of “Anything Goes.”) She went on Prozac. After a hike one day, a blood vessel in her left vocal cord burst, and she needed surgery and intensive rehabilitation. “It’s almost like she had to start from scratch,” recalled Wittman, who directed her in a 1995 concert run, “Patti LuPone on Broadway.”

Despite stray successes—a stint as Maria Callas in the play “Master Class”; a topless role in Spike Lee’s “Summer of Sam”—by the early two-thousands her agents couldn’t get her seen for a TV pilot. Her comeback came courtesy of Stephen Sondheim. They had socialized in Connecticut, where both had houses, but, she said, “I thought he hated me.” (He once slammed a door in her face.) Sondheim liked getting stoned in her barn with her husband. She played Mrs. Lovett in an acclaimed Broadway revival of “Sweeney Todd”—the actors played their own instruments, allowing LuPone to show off her tuba chops—and then Madame Rose, the mother of all stage mothers, in “Gypsy.” She brought brass and rage and woundedness to Rose, a woman whose struggles, much like LuPone’s, are as self-perpetuated as they are riveting.

Heading into her sixties, LuPone was on a high, her salty bravado now part of her legend. During her penultimate performance in “Gypsy,” she stopped the show to scold a photographer: “How dare you? Who do you think you are?” (The photos were part of a planned magazine feature, but whatever.) Her newfound cachet, coupled with her adventurous tastes, brought her to unexpected places. Jac Schaeffer, the creator of “Agatha All Along,” was looking for a “Patti LuPone type” before realizing that she could get the real thing. “She’s infiltrated all these counterculture spaces,” Schaeffer said. Ari Aster cast her as Joaquin Phoenix’s mother, Mona, in “Beau Is Afraid” after seeing her on Broadway in Mamet’s “The Anarchist.” “I’d written for Mona an endless, withering monologue that was meant to be very theatrical and histrionic and grandiloquent, while also being born of a real deep pain and anger,” Aster told me. “Her sudden appearance also needed to function as something of a punch line, and having the architect of Beau’s misery be Patti LuPone really made me laugh.”

Since the eighties, LuPone has been based in Connecticut. Years ago, she and Johnston got a flock of chickens and named them Marilyn, Rita, Eartha, Foghorn Leghorn, and the Fabulous Miller Sisters (Pia, Alexandra, and Marie-Chantal). All but three were massacred in a raccoon attack. “It was horrific,” LuPone said. “There was blood and feathers and guts all over the place when my husband heard me screaming. He came down in this Victoria’s Secret underwear, barefoot. We looked in the hen hut, and there was the raccoon, basically looking at us, going, ‘I ain’t finished.’ ”

In the city, where LuPone is the apex predator, she keeps a sparsely decorated apartment on Central Park West, the site of raucous New Year’s Eve parties. The guest list runs from John McEnroe to Cole Escola. “I asked her, ‘What’s the vibe of the party?’ ” Aubrey Plaza recalled. “She went, ‘Oh, you know, cops and showgirls.’ ” It was at this apartment that I met her one Saturday at noon, bearing a bottle of sherry.

LuPone had laid out strawberries, chocolates, and nuts. “Look at our little spread, dahling,” she said, with mock grandeur. She’d just returned from the GLAAD Awards, in L.A., after which she hit a gay bar with the trans TikTok star Dylan Mulvaney.

“I talk to myself a lot,” she told me. “Why? Don’t ask me. But I actually talked about Hal Prince in my head today.” The conversation was about how he had tormented her during “Evita.” “That stuff doesn’t go away. It sits there, going, Why, why, why?” As much as quarrelsome defiance has become part of her persona, it was striking to hear that it lingers even when she’s alone with her thoughts. As she sipped her sherry, a lifetime of grievance and self-pity—all evidence of her success to the contrary—seemed to well up in her. “I was dealt the hard hand, in everything,” she lamented. “So I say, This life is about figuring that out. The next life is going to be easier.”

She went on, “We start in life vulnerable. Then we are accosted. And then we put up the barriers. We put up the armor. I’ve never lost my vulnerability, so the shock continues. I firmly believe this: it’s better to fail, because you learn so much more. If you are anointed, you have nowhere to go. Failure makes you investigate. Failure moves you to the next step.”

In the meantime, the battles were unrelenting. She had told me, about co-starring with Mia Farrow in the two-woman play “The Roommate” last fall, “There was a little bit of bullshit that went down, and then I washed my hands of a couple of people in the business.” One of them, I found out later, was a press agent who, after an offstage blowup, grabbed a bottle of champagne from his office and gave it to LuPone to make amends; he did not realize that the label read “Happy Opening, Sunset Boulevard.” “The Roommate” shared a wall with a neighboring show, “Hell’s Kitchen,” the Alicia Keys musical, and sound would bleed through. At her stage manager’s suggestion, LuPone called Robert Wankel, the head of the Shubert Organization, and asked him if he could fix the noise problem. Once it was taken care of, she sent thank-you flowers to the musical’s crew. She was surprised, then, when Kecia Lewis, an actress in “Hell’s Kitchen,” posted a video on Instagram, speaking as one “veteran” to another, and called LuPone’s actions “bullying,” “racially microaggressive,” and “rooted in privilege,” because she had labelled “a Black show loud.”

“Oh, my God,” LuPone said, balking, when I brought up the incident. “Here’s the problem. She calls herself a veteran? Let’s find out how many Broadway shows Kecia Lewis has done, because she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about.” She Googled. “She’s done seven. I’ve done thirty-one. Don’t call yourself a vet, bitch.” (The correct numbers are actually ten and twenty-eight, but who’s counting?) She explained, of the noise problem, “This is not unusual on Broadway. This happens all the time when walls are shared.”

I mentioned that Audra McDonald—the Tony-decorated Broadway star—had given the video supportive emojis. “Exactly,” LuPone said. “And I thought, You should know better. That’s typical of Audra. She’s not a friend”—hard “D.” The two singers had some long-ago rift, LuPone said, but she didn’t want to elaborate. When I asked what she had thought of McDonald’s current production of “Gypsy,” she stared at me, in silence, for fifteen seconds. Then she turned to the window and sighed, “What a beautiful day.”

It was. In Central Park, New Yorkers were strolling among the apple blossoms. “Oh, people sitting by themselves, lonely as hell,” LuPone observed, peering from her window. “HA! Just lonely as hell out there.” She was ready for a nap. As I walked out, she announced, “I, my dahling, am taking to my bed.”

[petercapaldi-press]

INTERVIEW

Peter Capaldi on Britain’s Real-Life Institutional Disorder Behind Apple’s ‘Criminal Record’

The 'Doctor Who' and 'The Thick of It' star plays a veteran cop who clashes with a newbie investigator ('The Good Fight' actor Cush Jumbo) over a cold case in the new crime thriller.

January 7, 2024 11:56pm

By Scott Roxborough

When Peter Capaldi flickers into view on the Zoom call, I half expect him to tell me to “F** Off!”

For TV viewers of a certain age, the 65-year-old Scottish actor will forever be Malcolm Tucker, the supremely sweary spin doctor in Armando Iannucci’s pre-Veep Brit political satire The Thick of It.

“It’s The Thick of It and Doctor Who,” says a charming (and clean-mouthed) Capaldi, about the roles he’s most recognized for (he played the twelfth incarnation of the Doctor in the cult sci-fi series from 2013 to 2017). “Surprisingly, The Thick of It is still incredibly popular [the series wrapped in 2012]. People, generally very cool, smart young people, recognize me from that a lot. They generally just ask me to swear at them.”

Of course, there’s a lot more to Capaldi than Tucker and the Doctor. His scores of film and TV appearances include playing alongside Burt Lancaster in Bill Forsyth’s 1983 classic Local Hero, starring as Rory McHoan in the BAFTA-winning TV adaptation of Iain Banks’ Scots drama The Crow Road (1996), giving a delightful turn as the grumpy Mr Curry in the Paddington movies, and donning a spikey electrode skull cap to play DC comic-book villain The Thinker in James Gunn’s The Suicide Squad (2021). Behind the camera, Capaldi won an Oscar for Best Live Action Short Film for his 1993 short film Franz Kafka’s It’s a Wonderful Life, wrote and helmed the 2001 feature Strictly Sinatra starring Ian Hart, Kelly Macdonald and Brian Cox, and directed multiple episodes of the BBC 4 sitcom Getting On.

What Capaldi has never done, in his decades on screen, is play a cop. His role as Detective Chief Inspector Daniel Hegarty in Criminal Record, the new crime thriller, which drops on Apple TV+ on January 10, is his first time impersonating a police officer.

The series sees Capaldi re-team with his Torchwood co-star Cush Jumbo, best known stateside for playing Lucca Quinn in The Good Wife and spin-off The Good Fight. Hegarty is a veteran cop, one of the most decorated and respected members of the London Metropolitan police, the Met. Jumbo plays DS June Lenker, a newbie detective eager to prove herself. When an anonymous phone call raises questions about one of Hegarty’s old murder cases, the two are drawn into a confrontation, with Lenker doggedly questioning every aspect of Hegarty’s investigation, and the old vet determined to protect his legacy. While it has plenty of elements of the classic cop show, Criminal Record is no by-the-book procedural. The cold case investigation is the plot driver for a series more interested in examining issues of race, gender and institutional disorder in a politically polarized Britain.

“I’m a big fan of crime shows, but often, the leading characters at the end of the episode just revert to the way they were at the start, events have no consequences, they don’t change them in any way,” says Capaldi. “Here we wanted to show characters that are changed, where what’s happening in the course of the show has a real impact on their lives.”

Capaldi also produced Criminal Record together with his wife Elaine Collins (Vera, Shetland). Written by BAFTA-nominee Paul Rutman (The Virgin Queen), the series co-stars Charlie Creed-Miles, Dionne Brown, Shaun Dooley, Stephen Campbell-Moore and Zoë Wanamaker.

The Institutional disorder at the center of the series — in her investigation, Lenker is shown constantly battling bullying, misogyny and racism within the Met — is no invention. An independent government report released last year found London’s police force to be “institutionally sexist, misogynistic, racist and homophobic.” The report came after a police officer stalked and killed a woman in 2021 and another officer was sentenced to life in prison for a series of rapes and sexual assaults. The report said the Met must completely transform if it doesn’t want to be dismantled.

“There clearly are a number of problems, [the police] are unfortunately, recruiting people who are not suitable for that kind of work, and, clearly, there’s a funding issue as well,” says Capaldi. “[The issues] had a direct influence on how the show developed, because you can’t do a show about the police in London without engaging to some degree with those problems.”

But Criminal Record is more film noir than kitchen sink docudrama. The opening scene sets the mood. Hegarty, moonlighting as a limo driver/security detail, is chauffeuring a couple of VIPs. When the passengers ask him about his life, he begins to recount old cases of murder and mayhem in the mean streets of London.

“That actually happened to me and my wife,” says Capaldi. “We were going to some awards thing, the BAFTAs or something. You’ll get a lot of detectives doing the driving for these events because they’re trained in defensive driving and they’re security conscious. I often fall into conversation with the drivers. I asked him about himself and he revealed that he was a detective. And as we passed through these neighborhoods, he’d tell us what murder happened here, what crime went on on this corner or that. I just thought: ‘That’s a great opener for a series.'”

DCI Hegarty, a taciturn and withdrawn man of few words and many meaningful silences, is a new kind of character for Capaldi, who has become accustomed to doing more “front-foot” performances with figures like Malcolm Tucker and Doctor Who.

“I’m usually out there all over the place, trying to get people’s attention shouting and jumping up and down or whatever.,” he says, “As Doctor Who you’re giving these great long speeches about comic this and electronics that and you have to keep dancing all over the place to keep people interested. And with The Think of It, well, if Malcolm was angry, you knew about it. [Hegarty] is a very veiled character and it was very important to not let the audience really in to him. I hadn’t consciously done that before.”

Rutman’s Criminal Record script has plenty of twists and surprises but the show’s real tension comes from the cat-and-mouse game played between Capaldi and Jumbo and in the slow reveal of their characters, who are both fallible and flawed in their own ways. Their scenes together throw real sparks.

“We sort of mutually decided not to rehearse,” says Capaldi. “We didn’t improvise or anything because the scripts were really good and the words were important, they had to be delivered clearly. But whatever we did together we did for the first time on camera. That allowed us to respond in situ as opposed to practicing responses, which kept things tense. I loved doing those scenes, but they were exhausting because I wouldn’t know what Cush was going to do. And vice versa.”

The show’s cold case gets wrapped up in the 8-episodes of Criminal Record but a final scene leaves an opening for a possible second season. Capaldi refused to be drawn on whether this is the last we’ll see of DCI Hegarty.

“Who knows? We’re just excited that we’ve done it and it’s out there, it’s been a real journey getting it to the screen. Working with Apple has been great but it’s a whole new world,” he says. “When I was working with BBC or ITV, a show might get sold to Australia or Hong Kong or whatever. Now Apple just presses a button, and 130 countries all over the world get the show. Instantly. It’s a whole different ballgame for me. But I’m delighted, at my age, to still be part of it.”

[silverflqmes]

ignore that im on my selfship account it’s luma lmao

some selfship questions for u and tooru <3

•does tooru get you flowers? if so, what kind?

ldoes tooru like to read books with you? or does he secretly collect all your favs and binge read them?

•what shows do you watch together?

•have you guys had any thoughts on marriage? (sorry if this makes you uncomfy i’ll note it for the future)

•do you guys match icons on like tumblr or insta?

•what couple do you resonate you and tooru with? like for example me and scara kinda resemble harley quinn and the joker (minus the toxicity)

•what video games do you guys play together? if you play genshin together, who does he main / what team does he use and do you do cute genshin couple things?

hi luma! no worries, i figured it was you😭 woohoo selfship questions, i’ll do my best to answer those<33

— tooru is the flower giving type!! i think he’s the kind of person to read into flower language and symbolism cuz like, it’s tooru.. he never does anything haphazardly and always wants to provide the best, so he definitely looks into their meanings before choosing accordingly depending on the occasion or mood<3 red roses are a common ( given their symbolism for love and passion ), forget me nots are also some he frequently sends ( often as a reassurance to me, along with himself ), daisies ( he remembers how i used to really like them as a kid, and brings them as a reminder of those times ) and a combo between lily of the valley and larkspur ( they’re the flowers of our birth months<3 )

— i think he would show interest in what i read and i would beg him on my hands and knees to read my favs, specifically the folk of air series, to scream with him!! bonus if he decided to annotate and swap copies with me so we could read each other’s comments<3 furthermore, he serenades me to sleep by reading on stressy nights :’) and just cuz his voice is so<3

— definitely star wars oriented shows.. the clone wars has consumed us wholly and we have not recovered from the siege of mandalore.. sitcoms FOR SURE, i love friends a completely normal amount, seinfeld too, modern family, big bang theory, king of queens, etc. anyway, other than that we’d probably watch a lottt of slice of life / romance anime since it’s super comforting and silly<333 although some shonen anime make certain exceptions ( owari no seraph my love ) OH AND CARTOONS BC OLD SPONGEBOB HUMOR >>>

— TOORU IS DEFINITELY A MARRIAGE KIND OF GUY and like same i want marriage too but later down the line cuz i wanna enjoy the youth and sillying around of dating.. but i think we would unironically refer to each other as husband n wife.. and act like a married couple.. proposing is gonna be a challenge because he wants to do it but i ALSO want to do it like babes let me get on my knee pls and propose to you like the king you are smh

— i don’t think tooru would be on tumblr, maybe he would be if he indulges in my nonsense.. so probably instagram!

— we are anakin and padmé for sure and take turns, although misaki and usui are definitely us too, as well as kuronuma and kazehaya ( THEY MAKE ME SO EMO AND NOT NORMAL )

— we play a lot of wii and ds games together pre timeskip, specifically super mario bros, mario kart, mario party, wii sports, just dance — all that jazz, and i would have begged him to indulge me in my tekken addiction despite the amount of times he would get his ass handed to him BAHAHAHAHA ( he’s petty bc i use asuka since she counters attacks ) now post timeskip, we would definitely play ssbu because it’s just sm fun ( a-and um um sephiroth…. ) — now i would get my ass handed here instead.. and of course we cannot forget the hit game GENSHIN IMPACT!!! bro mains either tartaglia, ayato or alhaitham because i am not normal about them and he makes it a goal to tease me using them.. think he probably uses vaporize a lot to stick to my synergy or spread; as for couple things, we definitely take each other to pretty locations we found or help one another with grinding / quests. if there are also co-op games, those too!! for the rest, we’d probably take turns on ffvii since it’s single player and i have a tendency to throw a controller at someone when things get too heated.. prepare yourself tooru!! especially if sephi is the final boss..

[scotianostra]

Happy birthday Annette Crosbie, born 12th February 1934.

Annette was born in Gorebridge, Midlothian, to strict Presbyterian parents who disapproved of her becoming an actress.

Nvertheless, she joined the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School while still in her teens. Her big break came in 1970 when she was cast as Catherine of Aragon in the BBC television series The Six Wives of Henry VIII, for which she won the 1971 BAFTA Television Award for Best Actress. In 1973, she starred alongside Vanessa Redgrave in the BBC serial, A Picture of Katherine Mansfield.

Crosbie was born in Gorebridge, Midlothian, to strict Presbyterian parents who disapproved of her becoming an actress. Nevertheless, she joined the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School while still in her teens. Her big break came in 1970 when she was cast as Catherine of Aragon in the BBC television series The Six Wives of Henry VIII, for which she won the 1971 BAFTA Television Award for Best Actress. In 1973, she starred alongside Vanessa Redgrave in the BBC serial, A Picture of Katherine Mansfield.

In 1975, Crosbie made a similar impact as Queen Victoria, in the ITV period drama Edward the Seventh, for which she won the 1976 BAFTA Television Award for Best Actress. She played Cinderella’s fairy godmother in The Slipper and the Rose, which was chosen as the Royal Film Première for 1976. In that film, Crosbie sang the Sherman Brothers’ song, “Suddenly It Happens”. In Ralph Bakshi’s animated movie, The Lord of the Rings, filmed in 1978, Crosbie voiced the character of Galadriel, Lady of the Elves. In 1980, she played the abbess in Hawk the Slayer. In 1986, she appeared as the vicar’s wife in Paradise Postponed.

After appearing in the BBC1 drama Take Me Home, Crosbie’s next major role was as Margaret Meldrew, the long-suffering wife of Victor Meldrewplayed by fellow Scot, Richard Wilson) in the BBC sitcom One Foot in the Grave for which she is best known. She also played Janet, the housekeeper to Dr. Finlay, in the 1993 revival of A.J. Cronin’s popular stories.

Crosbie’s other roles include playing the monkey-lover Ingrid Strange in an episode of Jonathan Creek, Edith Sparshott in An Unsuitable Job for a Woma, and Jessie in the film Calendar Girls. In 2004, Crosbie appeared alongside Sam Kelly in an episode of the third series of Black Books, as the mother of the character Manny Bianco. In the series six and seven of the BBC Radio 4 comedy series Old Harry’s Game, she played a recently deceased historian named Edith.

In 2008 she appeared in the BBC adaptation of Charles Dickens’s Little Dorrit, in 2009, she portrayed Sadie Cairncross in the BBC television series Hope Springs. In 2010 Crosbie appeared in the Doctor Who episode “The Eleventh Hour”. In 2014 Crosbie appeared in the movies What We Did on Our Holiday and Into the Woods. In 2015 she appeared in a BBC adaptation of the novel Cider with Rosie. In 2016 she appeared in the new film version of Dad’s Army .

In recent years, she appeared in season two of Ricky Gervais' black comedy-drama After Life on Netflix. She now resides in Wimbledon and is a campaigner against cruelty for animals.

[owltypical]

i've had more than a few characters in the past that came to me out of my dreams, so since i've had a number of characters show up in my dreams over the last several months i'm just making this post for myself for posterity, maybe if i ever get out of my creative funk i'll draw them or something idk

30-40 something year old wealthy guy who was married and had a non-descript life for a while, eventually came out, got divorced, became a professional drag queen and is living an extravagent life 24/7 now. very styled hair and big fashion, petty and pouty, big frank n. furter energy. the kind to sprawl on his stomach on a silken heart-shaped bed and kick his legs in the air. surprisingly amicable divorce, somehow got primary custody of the kids. loves the kids despite his spoiled child attitude, kids are in awe of the fashion and style around them now and the adventures their dad winds up in.

middle-aged professor, broad-shouldered and stout, well-groomed, greying and bearded, very polite and knowledgable, jolly person. despite them being complete opposites in every way wound up 'family friend' of aforementioned drag queen and his kids. Very fond and obliging of everybody, indulgent with his friend with benefits, nobody can figure out why or how they make the relationship work.

early twenties personal assistant and babysitter for the above. asian american woman, very fond of early '90s fashion, going to college for writing or perhaps photography. succeeds by basically ignoring everything her boss says, in cahoots with the kids.

doc brown-ish mad scientist, goggles, big hair, the works. accidentally turned himself into a snake from the waist down. lab is based in an old abandoned lighthouse on the coast. has a tendency to slither over stair railings and ceiling beams and other random bits of scenery when distracted. everybody around him is 'could u not'.

very harry potter-like school for magic. only there's a lot of non-human students too, it's not really secret, there's more types of magic, and instead of brooms people either fly on little dragons pern-style or use other non-riding based methods of transport.

13 year old kid who can be best described as "what if somebody resurrected severus snape as a newborn child and technically new/different person and when he was old enough was sent to wizard school and nobody was really sure how to feel about this". kind of like my clone character edmund i guess, but via magic instead of science. not really clear if he's truly a resurrection of the dead controversial wizard that nobody liked but starting fresh, or if he's a 100% new person that happened to be made from the genetic material in the ceremony. was made and raised for unknown reasons. messy hair, sullen angsty loner, but daydreams a lot and wants more out of life. would like to be nice, maybe. has a shitty preteen moustache that he refuses to shave.

only friends of wizard kid are his classmate who's a black lagoon-ish fishman kid and his assigned riding dragon. fishkid is cheerful, not very good at school, everything rolls off his back, just wants to hang. keeps his uniform in good order and dresses better than most folks would expect. they're frienemies with a strong-minded butch girl who's great at dueling but not academics.

cool old wizard with very long beard and sunglasses known as the viper. nobody knows why he's called this, as he's actually quite a nice old man. powerful, can travel through the air like an elemental spirit or lightning bolt, doesn't need to ride on anything. tries to be a positive influence on the loser kids whenever he happens to show up. probably gets high a lot in his offtime.

sitcom starring t_ and t_, two indian-american coworkers who become friends. one's slightly heftier, the other has a thicker beard. long-suffering employees of tech office who are convinced one of their coworkers is a werewolf. said employee is squat, scruffy, has thick glasses. t_ and t_ spend a lot of time bored and having to deal with their idiot tech bro ceo.

[haljathefangirlcat]

Now that you mention it, the Volsung-Nibelung-Dietrich cycle would make a good sitcom if you just focused on the zanier parts. The Nibelung siblings Gullrond, Gunther, Gernot, Giselher, Kriemhild, and (maybe) Hagen, with all their pals. Nephews Dankwart and Patavrid; Gunther's incredibly athletic girlfriend Brynhild and her dog and horse; the Nibelungs' best pal and Brynhild's ex Sigurd, who would be the man you wished your man could be if not his moments of random philosophizing or idiotic life decisions despite knowing what was going to happen; Hagen's best pals, Volker the musician and Walther the nerd; local businessman Rudiger and his sweet, cutesy young daughter; socially maladjusted Dietrich and his gang of pals, who always pop up during hangouts despite nobody inviting them... With less murder and more mayhem, it sure would make a good show!

You know, one thing I will always be irrationally sad about when it comes to the Sigurd/Siegfried cycle and related legends is that... it just never gets any of the wacky, zany, "how tf did you even come up that" adaptations and reimaginings Arthuriana keeps getting.

I mean, sure, you do have adaptations with some humor in it, and different ways to mesh Norse and Continental and even Wagnerian elements, and very different perspectives on the same characters. But Arthuriana really has anything and everything from Disney movies to anime and manga to Monty Python movies and musicals to kids' cartoons to A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court and all its parodies to Young!Arthur/Young!Merlin Slashy Bromance shows to irriverent French sitcoms to loosely-inspired queer YA romance novels to a few recurring and even main characters in "all stories are true" fantasy series like Once Upon a Time or The Librarians. There's even those collector's edition Merlin & Morgana Barbies that were making the rounds on here a while ago!

Meanwhile, the wackiest, less "serious" stuff our Nibelungs get are:

The brief Siegfried & Fafnir cameo in the Mara and the Firebringer movie, where the main mythological figures are actually Loki and Sigyn (can't really say anything about the books, as I haven't read them)

A weird Hungarian (?? iirc??) comedy movie where Siegfried has a talking piglet as his animal companion for some reason and Kriemhild really doesn't like him but she apparently can't just tell him to get lost and stop courting her so she orders Hagen to drive him away from Worms and kill him, which I've only ever managed to "watch" in bits and pieces

The comedic operetta Die lustigen Nibelungen, which I've never managed to find anything about that wasn't in German, so I'm not even really sure what it's actually about

The 70s porn movie The Long Swift Sword of Siegfried, which... tbh, I'd rather stick to fanworks on the nsfw side of things, if the alternative is Siegfried with a pornstache

A Modern/High School AU fantasy romance self-pub I once found where, from what I remember of the summary and excerpt I read, Brunhild is a Mean Girl/Queen Bee who tries to steal Siegfried away from Kriemhild and Hagen is Kriemhild's shitty jealous ex-boyfriend (nothing against High School AUs, or romance novels, or alternative takes on the Kriemhild/Siegfried/Brunhild love triangle, or Hagen/Kriemhild as a ship... but tbh, I'd rather see all those elements handled in vastly different ways XDD)

A couple of old Italian Disney comicbook parodies featuring Donald Duck and his family (but those were mostly Wagner-based, iirc, and then again, an amazing thing about Italian Disney comics is that they will parody literally everything under the sun from the Divine Comedy to Twilight)

... Siegfried (or Sigurd?) showing up in one of the Fate anime series? Or novels? Or games? Not sure. I've only ever watched like two episodes of the Fate/Stay Night anime and then dropped it because I didn't like the normal guy protagonist always rushing to protect his (secretly Fem!King Arthur) supernatural sworn knight just because she was a girl

And... that's it, I think.

And on the one hand, I get it. With Arthuriana, you have adventurous romances and ridiculous (affectionate) quests and so many different bizarre canons and twists on them that even that cartoon where Morgan Le Fay sends an American football team back in time to Camelot (I think that was the plot, at least????) is just another "you know, this might as well happen" situation. I suppose that, at least by comparison, the Nibelungensage & All Adjacent Stuff may appear more grounded and less easy to play with and bring in whatever strange, unlikely new direction you want. Plus, tragic events like Sigurd/Siegfried's death, Brynhild/Brunhild being tricked into marrying a man she doesn't want, and Gudrun/Kriemhild's revenge, or even Dietrich's exile, are just central to it, so that's kind of a downer already, I guess.

... on the other hand, King Arthur's tale literally ends with him and his son killing each other at the end of a bloody civil war. And it's not like anyone's ever had any problem merrily ignoring THAT part to, idk, have everyone in the story be cats.

All this to say, I'd watch the hell out of a Modern AU Nibelung sitcom. Or even just a Nibelung sitcom set in the Middle Ages, or Late Antiquity, or a vague mishmash of the two. The dream for that would be a Galavant-style show with musical numbers and a lot of scenes poking fun at epic and heroic tropes, ngl.

Actually, let's be real: I wouldn't just watch it, I'd probably write fic and make gifs and fanvids for it!

[redwinesupercvnt]

⋆˙⟡✮⋆˙about me˚⊹✧˖°.

basics ~ hi! my name is sam, she/her pronouns, ace + bi, 16, gemini, infp, multishipper, cats are my life, being a swiftie is part of my personality, my nails are almost always cherry red, i get a bit of a superiority complex bc i listened to a few artists before they were popular (chappell, noah kahan, last dinner party), love crocheting, movie buff, bones and all is the greatest film ever, live in converse, sitcom enjoyer, loser in a basic girl's body, old username was @electric-sheeeep

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO MESSAGE ME IF YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING LIKE WHAT COFFEE YOU HAD THIS MORNING IDK I LOVE IT SOOOO MUCH

✩fandoms✩ ~ marauders (fuck jkr), arcane, osemanverse, miraculous ladybug, yellowjackets, be more chill, percy jackson, stranger things, marvel, gravity falls

✩ships✩ ~ jegulus, wolfstar, rosekiller, jily, dorlene, marylily, bartylily, narlie, sprolden, tardarcy, tao x elle, adrienette/lovesquare, julrose, luchloe, lukagami, lucadrien (if luca's there im shipping it), jackieshauna, shaunahat, lottienat, taivan, boyf riends, richjake, pinkberry, percebeth, solangelo, byler, steddie, lumax

✩artists✩ ~ taylor swift, chappell roan, boygenius + solo work (all hail lucy dacus), my chemical romance, lizzy mcalpine, renee rapp, olivia rodrigo, conan gray, maneskin, gracie abrams, david bowie, sabrina carpenter, the last dinner party, noah kahan, arctic monkeys, billie eilish, maisie peters, the smiths, tears for fears, modern baseball, muna, bleachers, maya hawke, hozier, laufey, sorority noise, towa bird, queen, clairo

✩fav movies and shows✩ ~ bones and all, 10 things i hate about you, bottoms, yellowjackets, spider-man: no way home, spider-man: into the spider-verse, spider-man: across the spider-verse, loki, la la land, saltburn, modern family, brooklyn 99, thor: ragnarok, dead poets society, normal people, challengers, lady bird, brokeback mountain, perks of being a wallflower, pearl, heartstopper, percy jackson and the olympians (the show), stranger things, but im a cheerleader

✩celeb/characters im obsessed with✩ ~ ruby cruz, kristen stewart, chappell roan, olivia rodrigo, taylor swift, renee rapp, steve harrington, robin buckley AND maya hawke, victoria de angelis, all of boygenius, chat noir, emma d'arcy, kit connor, loki, mike faist, shauna shipman, sophie thatcher, daisy spencer, havana rose liu, abigail morris, leah sava jeffries, sabrina carpenter, iman velani, ayo edibiri, paul mescal, helena bonham carter

idrk what else to put here but im super friendly and i love meeting new people (not irl obvs real people scare me) asks are always open!!

also my cat is my favorite thing on earth so if you want cute cat pics dm me i love talking about her

OH I FORGOT MY FAV ANIMAL IS A RED PANDAAA

[idrinkyouryouthquake]

I need a new show to watch reccs plz - must be at least somewhat of a comedy

Here are some faves:

Marvelous Mrs Maisel, B99, Parks & Rec, Frasier, Santa Clarita Diet, Black Books, IT Crowd, Psych, Gilmore Girls,30 Rock, Derry Girls, Friends, Mad About You, Seinfeld, Monk, Elsbeth, Columbo, Curb, Arrested Development, Waiting for God, Will & Grace, Schitt's Creek, Speechless, Community, Goldbergs, The Nanny, Toast of London

have enjoyed but would not call a fave:

Burn Notice, Royal Pains, Fresh Prince, My Life is Murder, Sherlock, Poker Face, Russian Doll, 3rd Rock from the Sun, Mighty Boosh, Mom, Nora from Queens, Ted Lasso, Shrinking, Get Smart, That Girl, Just Shoot Me, He & She, My Name is Earl, Kingdom (with Stephen Fry), Hot in Cleveland, Ghosted (why was this cancelled???), One Foot in the Grave, Patti Duke, Golden Girls, Flight of the Concords, Murphy Brown, Cougar Town, Year of the Rabbit, Good Place, Burns and Allen, Gidget, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, I Love Lucy, Tammy Grimes show, Girlfriends, I Dream of Jeanie, Bewitched, Beverly Hillbillies, Loudermilk, Uncle, Only Murders in the Building, Press Gang

Meh:

The Odd Couple (both), Vicar of Dibley, Brittas Empire, Designing Women, Jack & Triumph, Taxi, Are You Being Served, Happy Days, Mork & Mindy, Kate & Ally, Crazy Ex G, Raising Hope, The crazy Ones, Breaking In, Jim Gaffigan Show, Family Affair, Black-ish, Angie Tribeca, The Grinder, Grace & Frankie, Veronica's closet, Superstore, The Brokenwood Mysteries, The Riches

Shows I just don't like but I tried:

Girls, Two Broke Girls, New Girl, Mindy Project, Always Sunny, Physical, Hacks, Younger, Ugly Betty, Fleabag, Sex Ed, Young Sheldon, Big Bang Theory, Scrubs, Welcome Back Kotter, Mary Tyler Moore, Maude, Keeping Up Appearances, Barry, Veep, Old Christine, Reno 911, Great Indoors, The Office (both), Cheers, Episodes, Mulaney (hate that I don't like this), Schooled, Dr Ken, Great News, Girls 5Eva, As Time Goes By, Spaced, B Positive, Loot, The Mentalist, Chuck, Band of Brothers, The Other Two, Father Ted, Physical, Brockmire, Kaos, Mr Mayor, Killing It, Castle, Bones, Veronica Mars, Wings

I know I've very clearly seen too much tv, yet I come to you, internet, for more

*Also, I've seen every disney channel sitcom that aired from like 1998 up until like Hannah Montana season 2 and they were basically all awesome tbh

My ideal show would have Paul Reiser in it and also be like a tv version of the movie The Birdcage or something like that. Or like a tv version of The Birdcage where Nathan Lane's character solves murders. And Tony Shaloub would be in it.