When Shakespeare Describes The Eventual End Of Human History As “the Last SYLLABLE Of Recorded Time”

Pedro Fandom Bingo Finale

I love these kinds of activities! Here's the last update, it's been a great year of Tumblr 💖 I have a separate reblog account so check out @pedrotease for all the deets! And thanks to @burntheedges for the fun prompt! Finale Bingo, thanks to the writers for all you do!

Dave York No One Has to Know What We Do @guiltyasdave Down Bad @schnarfer The Roomate Agreement @auteurdelabre Melt @sizzlingcloudmentality Dieter Sweet Dee @yopossum Devotion, Self Care w/ Dieter + Jett @morallyinept My Darling Muse Mr. Ben Visiting @ladamedusoif Ternion @exquisiteserotonin Joel Miller All Good Things @criticallyacclaimedstranger Oberyn Unshelled @inept-the-magnificent He Will Slay You With His Tongue @iamasaddie Hurt/Comfort Trope (Joel Edition) Somewhere to Run, I Know Who You Are @punkshort Nothing Hits Quite Like That First Kiss @backtothefanfiction Javier Pena Kinktober 2024 @flightlessangelwings Afterglow Marcus Pike Is It Real? @f0rever15elf Pike's Place Pero Tovar Drabble #4 @toomanystoriessolittletime General Acacius Soak @juletheghoul Din Shower Sex @pedropascallme Javi Gutierrez Slow @morallyinept Phoenix Rising Agent Whiskey Glorification @morallyinept How Much Does Devotion Weight? @anabdaniels Marcus Moreno Thanksgiving Delights Cock Warming @flightlessangelwings Frankie Morales You're My Stranger in the Dark @lady-of-glass-and-bone Moody Frankie New Pedro Character Little Dove @palioom Unmasked Tim Rockford The Detective and the Agent @604to647 Husband Material Max Phillips Blood Sucking Witch Ezra One Stop Shop @morallyinept

Hey beauties, you are officially invited to "Pedro's Holiday Feast" for the month of November! Every Sunday we will sit down for a family dinner, enjoying the cornucopia. Things to be grateful for--

First Family Dinner

Second Family Dinner

Final Family Dinner

Thanksgiving Day Reveal!: Pike's Place; Love Actually

*thanks @bernardsbendystraws for the cool dividers!

Pedro-Tober #4

Inspired by @alyssamariag and @norththelemon I've decided to feature curated pics/art, juxtaposed with fics and AI inspired Bitmoji. So much artistry to celebrate this October, look at these amazing artists! Also, it's the last week to "Trick or Treat"! Hit me up!

20.) Frankie Morales IG: VanessaDraws, "Moody Frankie" @pedges-world

21.) Curls @norththelemon

22.) Gladiator @southparkpedro

23.) Din Jarin IG: Tealspy

24.) Sundance IG: Vanessa Draws

25.) Javier Pena IG: Junes.Pegasus, Afterglow Series @pedges-world

Series Masterlist

My Darling Muse (ii),

Dieter is in LOVE. He's just not sure if he's met them yet. But in the interim, he's keeping a journal to house all of his inspiration, poetry and recipes, before they fly out of his head. And once he meets the ONE...or ONES...this is going to be his gift to you. Along with those sexy time IOU's he's always handing out. As always, love this post @for-a-longlongtime, and inspired by the Trope-Off

Trigger: it's Dieter bub so this series will DEFINITELY include profanity, drugs, alcohol, sex, smut and any meanderings D wants...He's endlessly inspired by art, poetry, songs, sex and YOU!

Series Masterlist

Goya's "Drowning Dog *thanks @anitalenia for the cool dividers

My Darling Muse,

Like a dog, I lap at your wounds Drinking you in, drowning in your juices Swallowing + swallowing me I am adrift at sea without you, turning in the tumult Pverwhelmed and isolated i have abandoned myself To worship at your dwelling I journey and journey in the labyrinth of your rose Clawing and grasping, biting at the hand that feeds How long have I been lost? To what supple kingdoms do I travel? Am I found anew in your arms? Re-birthed in this self-death I swim in a sea of salty tears, An ocean of my own making I lance together my bones, fashioning a mighty raft Until I drift into your treasured embrace Woof. (scribbled in the margins: What does LSD stand for? Out of Kit-Kats. Are dogs bi? NA mg in semen? Oil Paint-good for lubricant? Is cannabis an aphrodisiac?)

*Hey folks, this is J, Dieter's PA. I'm not sure if he actually knows who I am, but I try to replenish his Kit-Kats whenever I can. Dieter says his fellow actor Pedro Pascal is an art afficianado and loves all things Talk Art. Don't forget to check out his delightful insights...sorry...watch Dieter's movies FIRST. I got it Dieter, thank you...I don't know if they've seen "Cliff Beasts 6"...I'll ask...

Pedro Scouts Glamping

A big thank you to @pedroscouts for this fun summer time activity! I ran into Pedge and he gently mentioned that my solo tent was a bit messy. He suggested some after care and a light massage because I was such a hot mess, so I've organized myself a bit more.

Ranks/Pledge I Pledge to Pedge Song Fic Use SomebodyPedge's Favorites Fan Art Papi Pascal Personal ArtJoel Miller @norththelemon Ellie and Joel @pebblume Din and Grogu @lupinsuniverse Game of Thrones Era @craftingwithamyc Esquire Magazine @saminadorazahi Beldro Ramscal Marcus Moreno We Can Be Heroes @firsttarotreader Cockwarming @flightlessangelwings Coffee Shop Coffee Shop Date @mermaidgirl30 Routine @endlessthxxghts Dieter Salt, Shot, Lime @freelancearsonist Enemies to Lovers Enjoy the Silence @strang3lov3 Whiskey Daniels How Much Does Devotion Weigh? @anabdaniels Ezra How to Write for Ezra @morallyinept Helianthus Fan Art @millersblud Sex Pollen Scarlet Haze @katiexpunk Only One Bed Killing Me Softly Series @alltheirdamn Frankie Morales Do You Feel It Too? @burntheedges Fluff + Smut Is Joel Okay? @djarinmuse Hurt/Comfort I Know Who You Are Series @punkshortChronicSweet DreamsNothing Hits Quite Like That First Kiss @backtothefanfictionYou're My Stranger In the Dark @lady-of-glass-and-bone Slow Burn Pike's Place Joel Miller Somewhere to Run @punkshortJust Ralphy @ameerawrites

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's very important that I continue earning badges. Pedge assures me that the reward of personal hard work is quite fulfilling and I'm not just talking about scout cookies. Happy summer activities!

Pedge's Juke Box

I love combining reality with fantasy, and while I'm sure this isn't a new Tumblr concept, I'm going to be cataloguing our Pedro Boys as per Pedge's suggestions! All playlists will attempt to utilize music or groups that Pedro Pascal has referenced at some point. Get your headphones and enjoy! I also am secretly hoping writers might utilize this playlists for inspiration. I can't write with music in the background, but some people can...

Pena's Playlist Max's Mix Joel's Jives Maxwell's Music J's Jams Frankie's Favorites Dieter's Deets Silva's Songs Pike's Playlist The General's Genre Baby's Beats

*Please keep singing darling, we LOVE It....(our DJ)

The Audition:

This is Part Two of the New York, New York Series where I thought it would be fun to explore a realistic jaunt into the past. It's mostly self indulgent fluff, although just to be safe...

Triggers: fluff, lite smut at the end, saccharin sweet hand holding, alcohol consumption, descriptions of athletic (f) body, slight profanity, description of cigarettes, RPF re: Narcos audition

Lazily, you stretched your body like a cat, noticing your bedmate sprawled out next to you. Their pink button nose twitched with sensitivity as the morning light streamed in from the crusty window. You twisted your feet against the multi-colored quilt, blinking sleepily into the daylight. New York, New York. What a wonderful town.

Giving one final stretch you nuzzled your furry bedmate to happy purrs and biscuits and placed your feet on the cold wooden floor, padding down the hallway of your Airbnb. Standing at the kitchen counter you prepared the small metal espresso pot, cracking your joints noisily. Rehearsals had been a dream, but the wear and tear of New York foot traffic was nothing to scoff at. You’d met your creative team, perused the show sketches, started choreography, fell in love with your cast mates and moved into Ripley Grier. You’d even memorized the sketchy subway patterns and Thai Food take out locations, but you hadn’t done one thing.

Bumped into Mr. New York.

You licked your lips in anticipation as the espresso pot boiled in front of you. Pedro.

Pedge.

He seemed like more of a Pedge. Your guardian angel. That bumpy landing followed by a whirlwind arrival had almost completely derailed you in a New York minute, but something about those swirling orbs of chocolate-eyed concern had stuck with you. In a city that never sleeps it seemed almost ludicrous that you’d bump into him again. The cat delicately wrangled itself through your poised ankles as you poured a steaming cup of liquid energy into a chipped cup. But in the Big Apple, you smirked, anything can happen.

After two weeks of rehearsals things were going well, but they’d sent you further downtown for your final costume fitting and you had NO idea where you were going. The bustling underbelly of the New York subway system still had a certain romanticized grime, but WHY were you always lost? You nearly tripped over a discarded scarf and elbowed your way to the approaching train as your hair blew back in surprise at its gust of wind. Allowing the sea of humanity to exit you merged with the entering crowd and took your place, eyeing the suspiciously sticky puddle to the left of your feet. Assume the position; wide stance. Gripping the pole with one hand you took a deep breath and…there he was.

Face contorted in focused concentration and holding a nearly empty Venti Iced Starbucks Cup, along with loose leaflet pages, an iPod, phone and wallet. You smiled nervously, attempting to hone your skills of telepathy. If New York had taught you one thing it was to immediately seize every opportunity that presented itself, because the Big Apple waits for no one. You slid your way through a barrage of annoyed faces till your belly button was positioned nearly in front of his nose. You cleared your throat, but he remained buried in his concentration amidst the metallic, humming atmosphere. A busker began singing “Falling Slowly” and for one horrifying moment you considered disappearing into the masses, but noticing the large print on his cup, your curiosity got the better of you.

“Brown Eyes???!!!!” you exclaimed as his eyes darted up to your face with surprise. Dropping his pages on the subway floor, you nearly bumped heads trying to pick them up as a headphone now dangled unceremoniously, twisting in the air.

“J!” he smiled, brightening up the entire car as it slowed to a halt with a grinding crash. Having forgotten your wide stance, you nearly fell over backwards as he grabbed you by the front of your shirt and awkwardly pulled you onto his lap.

“Oops!” he blushed, pulling the other headphone out and beaming. “I wondered when I would see you again, how are rehearsals?”

Having temporarily forgotten your name and all manner of information you took quick note of the stubble dotting his chin and scent of something woodsy. Clearing your throat you stood up shakily, attempting to press your shirt down unsuccessfully. “It’s going great Pedge!”

…oops…

“Er…can I call you Pedge?” New York City: One, J: Zero.

“Of course!” he shouted patting the open seat next to him. Plopping down, your eyes took in the sides he was holding in his hand.

“Narcos” you nodded “intriguing”.

“Oh” he deflated a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I got a callback for tomorrow, but I can’t even get arrested, even after the…thing..” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, whispering into your ear, eliciting a small shiver.

“Well good, Narcos are supposed to arrest people, not the other way around” you joked. “Unless you’re playing a bad guy? What’s the scene?”

He chuckled light-heartedly handing over the pages, “It’s not the dialogue I’m worried about.”

Your eyes widened like saucers reading the lurid description:

Javier Pena and Helena are fucking on the living room couch. Liquor bottles and cigarettes sit in the foreground as the camera pans to their naked bodies. Javier finishes quickly, and eventually lays back on the couch to light a cigarette.

YOU nearly dropped the pages this time, reddening in embarrassment. “Are you playing Helena?” you coughed, watching his eyes sparkle before you.

“No, they said my tits were too small” he pouted, taking the pages back and smirking mischievously. You pursed your lips, attempting to hold back a laugh. Saucy devil.

“I mean, this is probably nothing compared to..the thing…” you repeated, referencing his recent GOT gig.

“It’s true, we had lots of nudity in that one” he agreed. “I’m pretty okay with it as long as I check with my scene partner, but this feels different somehow…” he trailed off.

“It feels more intimate” you surmised.

He winked, rolling the pages into a funnel and chewing his lip.

“They really should have somebody on-site to consult for intimacy scenes” you pondered. “I know I'm preaching to the choir here, but it’s about a lot more than just stripping and calling ‘action’! I’m never quite sure how to handle those auditions myself…”.

He nodded, bumping your knee with his and sipping down the final dregs of his espresso.

“Particularly with coffee…no wonder you’re so wired!” you pinched his knee sardonically as he crumpled with embarrassment.

“A man’s gotta eat” he huffed, pausing to think. “Wanna grab lunch?”

You’d never played hooky in NY, but your costume fitting wasn’t for another hour and Pedro pulled you through the epicenter of Times Square as you dodged a mostly Naked Cowboy and a dubious looking…Elmo? You tilted your head upwards, taking in the large marquis signs and towering hotels. “God, I hate Times Square” he muttered under his breath, weaving precariously through the tourists and tchotchke shops featuring every manner of “I Heart NY”.

“Shake Shack okay?” he nearly shouted into your face, gripping your hand tightly and moving forward at a breakneck pace.

“Sure!” you exclaimed, unsure of its significance, but excited to feel the vibe of the city. You could feel the pulse of his hand gripping yours, noticing a small tattoo in the crook by his thumb.

“It’s like “In and Out!” he retorted, “but even better! I know….sacrilege. You’ll thank me later, I promise…” whisking the door open and nearly shoving you inside. The rest of the day was a blur as one hour became two and two became four. You both raced into the costume fitting, still holding hands and giggling like kids. The repetition of the sewing machines and office talk immediately silenced you, as you made bee line for the fabulous individual wrapped in measuring tape and bright pink feathers.

“Darling, you’re 30 minutes late” they dead panned, eyeing you up and down suspiciously.

“I know I’m so sorry! I get lost everywhere I go! Is there still time for the fitting?” you panted, biting your lip apologetically.

“Come with me to the dressing room” they breezed past you with newfound amibition. “Your boyfriend can sit in the waiting area…”.

You gulped loudly, dropping Pedge’s hand with embarrassment. You looked over at him as he made a funny face. “Looks like I got the part” he chided, bopping you on the head with the Narcos sides and placing his hand on your lower back.

You felt your body temperature raise slightly as you headed into the backroom. Stepping into the curtained area you gawked at the gorgeous, red sequined dress hanging in front of you. Running your hands over the material you quickly ascertained its functionality. Breathable. Moveable. Wait, a minute. This plunging neckline was a bit too…plunging, as in, all the way downtown. Hmmm…Unable to reach the zipper in the back your eyes widened in concern.

“Move it or lose it honey!” the seamstress yelled, drawing the curtains back theatrically. “Let’s see what God gave ya!”. They pulled you into the center of the room as Pedge’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

Your black laced bra was fully visible through the non-existent front panel, and that one freckle on your butt cheek peeked out from the unzipped back portion.

“Sold” Pedge whispered with a graveled undertone, as the the seamstress arched a well manicured eyebrow to high heaven.

“Well that’s one way to sell tickets” they joked, yanking the zipper closed in the back as Pedge’s eyes darkened seductively. He cleared his throat, shifting with discomfort in the seat, and readjusting his pants with one hand.

“Looks good to me” he piped up, giving you a wink and twisting his mouth comedically.

“Thanks, boyfriend” you smirked, hoping your tits weren’t pointing directly through the fabric.

You floated through the rest of the afternoon in a dreamy hazy. They had released you from the day of rehearsal and Pedge convinced you to take a stroll in Central Park. Cyclists and kids dotted the hillside, and you couldn’t help but notice your hands seemed to brush together a lot in passing. Grabbing some ice cream from a nearby cart you found yourself uptown near the Metropolitan Museum of Art. About to step foot into the crosswalk a horse drawn carriage nearly bulldozed over you, as Pedge grabbed you around the waist protectively.

“We’re walking here!” he shouted, flipping the man off, and holding on to you a bit longer than was necessary. “You okay?” he asked, reaching up to wipe the ice cream remnants from the corner of your mouth.

“Never better” you smiled, lifting one foot slightly off the ground.

Meg Ryan, eat your heart out.

Pedge grabbed your hand as you walked into the massive, echoing chambers of the Met, grabbing your audio guide and museum map. “I prefer the Guggenheim, but the Met is unreal” Pedge beamed, ushering you into the Egyptian room with pride.

“I have decided…dat for the rest of the day…we are going to talk like dis” he whispered to you in front of the ceiling high paneled windows. “Waiter…”

“Waiter…” you smiled with acknowledgement.

“There is too much pepper on my paprikash…”.

You started giggling with delight until you both blurted out:

“But I would proud to partake of your pecan piiiiiiie!!!!”

Dissolving into fits of laughter you noticed a security guard clear their throat noisily in response.

“What, are we going to Katz's next?” you whispered clandestinely.

“I’ll have what she’s having” his voice dropped about an octave, grabbing you by the jean pocket and pulling every so slightly. Your breath hitched in your throat, noticing your close proximity. He didn’t break eye contact for so long you thought he might kiss you, but then he sighed heavily, dragging his hand across your abdomen. “Told you it was beautiful” he grinned, grabbing one of your fingers lightly and leading you through the open hall.

Sharing an audio guide, you were joined at the head, giggling in hushed overtones and pondering some of the classic art pieces. Walking into a room filled with ornate insignia and full bodied armor, Pedro twirled impressively, lunging forward with athleticism.

You took an embarrassed look around to make sure you weren’t catching unnecessary attention.

“I haven’t even told you anything about Croatia for GOT!” he exclaimed, a bit too loudly as you shushed him clandestinely. “There’s this scene for this MAJOR character that drives everyone nuts, and there’s an assassination attempt…” you covered his mouth with mouth hands smiling up into his face.

“Stawp!” I don’t even know the characters and you’re probably not allowed to talk about those details ya big goof!” you whispered, as he kept speaking in muffled tones into your hand. Darting his tongue across your palm you yelped with surprise. “Stawp!”

He grabbed your hand back and blew a stream of air over your fingers. “Do you want me to do a palm reading?” he asked, suddenly serious.

“Um, sure? Can you do that sort of thing?”

“Verrrrrry convincingly…” he joked, rubbing one finger down the epicenter of your hand. You shifted your weight tensely.

“I see an…interesting stranger in your future” he cocked one eyebrow up, bemused.

You rolled your eyes, poking him in the sternum as he chuckled. “What about money?” you pointedly asked, placing your other hand on your hip.

He closed his eyes dramatically, humming under his breath. You waited with anticipation, moving slightly closer, feeling the heat emanating off of his body. He brought your hand up to his forehead with bravado, “Zoltarrrr sayssss….actors never make…moneeeeeey” he chanted, opening his eyes to find you mere inches from his face. “Hi” he whispered, pressing his thumb into your palm and bringing it down to your side.

“I suppose there are things worth more than money” you mused, completely transfixed by his pouty lower lip. Watching his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat hungrily, you reached up and placed a hand to his neck feeling his feathery pulse intensify with the closeness.

“Nah” he broke the tension with a wide smile, giving you a quick peck at the corner of your mouth and running away like a kid in a candy store.

You stood with your mouth agape, beaming from ear to ear. Ah, the culture of art.

“Sick of me yet?” he questioned, caging you in against the vibrating subway door.

“Hardly” you yelled, covering your mouth in immediate embarrassment. “But what about your callback?”

His face registered slight shock for a millisecond, remembering the day’s events, and then shrugging his shoulders. “Eh, I’ll probably call my agent and bail. I don’t think I’ve got a shot in hell…” he reasoned.

“Nonsense!” you retorted. “I’m putting you to work immediately! You’re still in Brooklyn, right? We can grab some Thai and run your lines.” you tipped forward slightly with an unexpected bump, nearly brushing lips.

Pedge’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “You’re not gonna give me a line-reading are you?” he teased, pinching your chin lightly.

“Only if you suck” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist playfully. “I generally ask for compensation via foot massages”. Pedge glanced down at your feet with curiosity. “I think that can be arranged.”

“I haven’t…laughed this hard in years…” you wheezed, attempting to balance the Thai Food, wine and Pedge up four flights of stairs. Pedro dropped the keys in front of his apartment as you finally doubled over in laughter, tears streaming down your face.

“Stawp, stawp!” you pleaded, holding your stomach. “You’re gonna make me peeeee….”.

“Absolutely not!” he bellowed. “My landlord will fine me for that!” he burst into the apartment, trying to drag you over the threshold amidst your gasps for air.

“We haven’t even started drinking yet…” you barely managed to get out, crawling down the hallway to what seemed like the bathroom. Returning to the kitchen a few moments later, Pedge had grabbed some paper plates and opened the two buck chuck.

“Bon appetite!” he smiled gesturing broadly to the delightful spread as you took in the meager New York residence.

“Very bachelor pad” you teased, poking him in the ribs and gazing at the futon, clothes rack and piled books. “Okay Mr. Bibliophile” you observed, catching the titles of “The Color Purple”, “Meisner On Acting” and an art book on Rousseau.

“It’s no Versailles, but it’s home” he grinned, taking a large bite out of the crab rangoon.

Inhaling your Thai Food, you were already two glasses of red wine in, and had to remind yourself to slow down. You were just having so much fun, talking about character development and fighting over the last spring roll.

“Do I have to goooo tomorrow?” he whined, plopping down on the couch with faux theatrics. “Couldn’t we just…go to another museum? Oooh, have you ever been to Lincoln Center? Or Sardis?”

“No, no, no” you laughed, sitting opposite him on the couch and gazing intently into his eyes. “Do you think you have it memorized yet?”.

He turned his body to face yours, returning the intensity of your focus. “It’s not like there was a lot of dialogue” he reminded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear tenderly. You swallowed dryly, feeling the happy effects of the wine buzzing around in your head. Curling your legs underneath you and resting your hands definitively on his quads you lectured.

“As you know, film and television has a much more intimate intensity than the performative styles of the theater…”

His eyes widened with acknowledgement “Thank you Professor J…”.

“Shuddup!” you giggled, continuing. “The most important thing you can do to maintain emotional intimacy for the camera is body language, communication and eye contact…” you informed, licking your lips and concentrating on his.

“Is that so?” he leaned in, returning your gaze and starting the scene.

“We get better every time we practice” he placed his arms on either side of your legs, moving in closer.

“You’re amazing Javier” you drolled, smirking sardonically.

“Well, don’t go overboard” his eyes darted down to your wine stained lips as you tipped backwards onto the couch.

“What you’re missing in this apartment is a woman” you teased, pulling him gently forward and straddling his torso with your knees.

“It’s fine the way it is” he rasped moving his head down to your sternum and placing a small chaste kiss across your midriff.

“Good…blocking” you managed to whisper. “Improvisation is…essential” you ran your fingers through his hair gently.

“What are you doing this weekend?” he intoned into your chest, now nibbling at your solar plexus.

Your breath came in shallow bursts, as you tried to remember your lines. “Uh….work or play?” you muttered, as the lines between lines blurred hazily.

“Ven aqui” he looked up, drawing his hands up the sides of your body slowly and pausing to cup the back of your neck.

“What?”

“Dame un beso” he drew one finger across your lower lip seductively, resting his body weight carefully atop you.

“I think that’s my line” you sighed.

Time seemed to stand still as you both held the moment, intently.

“I think tomorrow…you have a very good chance…” you smiled.

Pedge Tweets PedgeIsPunk

Pedge says he's a little embarrassed, posting on social media for the first time, and doesn't want anyone to think he is....Pedro Pascal. He's just an enthusiast, who has spent an inordinate amount of time...researching this beautiful boy. I told him that we can keep all our innermost thoughts to ourselves, but it's okay to enjoy the beauty of imagination at a distance. He couldn't agree more. Check out the Cuddle Couch if you like RPF...

Series Masterlist

*thanks LittlsMsMorales Art Shop!

Oh man, I tried to avoid Marcus Pike, but he's so absolutely adorable, even in heartbreak (the song recommendation was a perfect pairing). Thanks @whocaresstillthelouvre for this fun moodboard inspo, check out my previous Marcus Pike Post for the Charcuterie Challenge...I just posted a new Roll-a-Trope Challenge inspired by @burntheedges, Y'all are going to bring me to literary heights of avarice! Or just deadlines at least...

Oooh! I love the new moodboard request! Could we try Vibe/Marcus Pike/comfort? Like cuddle couch, blankets, candles stuff? Maybe beige or gray? Something easy...

Hi Pedge! Thank you for your support! I went very cozy with dinner and some good music provided by Marcus. 💕

Speaking of music I'm going to go with "Holding On" by War on Drugs. The lyrics are very heartbroken Marcus. Now I'm headed down a different road Can we walk it side by side? Is an old memory just another way of saying goodbye?

****Please do not watch the music video for the song if you don't want to cry.****

Critic's Choice

It's been so fun seeing the fashion variety at Cannes, but our guy really pulls off every look....I can't believe he hurt both shoulders consecutively in 2024, and am glad he's feeling tip top for a new awards season. Keep living your best life, mijo!

"I have been asked this question all my life and have never been able to come up with an answer. Perhaps my life would have been more complete and solid. What I am used to is that the past disappears as if it had been lived by someone else, in another time. There is very little diffference between Pedro Balmaceda and Pedro Pascal. I feel like the same person, but with back problems and more money. I am very confused trying to organize the past and see what comes of it. It helps me understand the pain or be grateful for what I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm a fraud, living between waiting for fame and attention and completely embarrassed by these wishes".

Always so amazed by his transparency that I hope inspires my own.

Thanks to @auteurdelabre for the coloring book and @pedropascalunofficial for the article reference...

@littlemisspascal  @lizette50 @beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @anelva @wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya  @schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @galaxyedging @joelalorian @joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave  @copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita @harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @yorksgirl @quicax3 @shaunasflannel @shinyanchorobject