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zer0pm · 1 year

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Imagine waking up with Luis sleeping on top of you while you both take shelter from the storm.

Warning: suggestive content 🤫

A/N: editted for mistakes and added upon by just a little for your reading pleasure ;) thanks for your time

“Think it’s safe?”

“Only one way to find out. ¡Vamos! Into certain danger we go!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan. This man’s optimism was breathtaking, confident in his strides towards the abandoned looking house that you two discovered. You follow behind him, careful in your own steps and had your gun drawn at the ready in case of any unfriendly encounters. Thankfully, your entrance went unanswered and after a thorough search of the building, you both confirm that the coast is clear. Finally, a safe space to squat and wait out the storm.

Sighing in relief, you didn’t realize how exhausted you were until you took a seat on a rickety wooden chair in what you assumed to be the remains of a dining area. Running around avoiding countless plaga in the pouring rain took a lot of your energy and your weary state did not go unnoticed.

Luis speaks addresses you. “Why don’t you take a rest, my friend? There is a bed upstairs. I do not think the owners will mind it.”

Your brow lifts upon reflex, tempted by the idea of laying on something soft after hours of running for your life. However, the consideration of well-being for your present company outweighed your desire to address your own. So you counter him, “And what about you? You look just as bad as I do.”

The man dismisses your suggestion with a wave of his hand, “I’ll keep watch. Make sure no scary monsters come bumping in the night. No te preocupes, I’ll be fine.”

Always the gentleman this one.

Still, you weren’t going to let him get away with it. Especially at the sight of the dark circles beneath his eyes. Chivalry be damned. You take a moment to absorb your dusty surroundings and listen closely to the weather. The two of you were lucky to even find this place amidst the pouring rain and you were certain there wouldn’t be any uninvited guests coming in to hack you both into pieces anytime soon with how bad this storm is raging.

“Pretty sure we’re safe here, Luis. Can’t see anything in this damn rain and place looks like it hasn’t been occupied in ages. Plus, with Leon Kennedy roaming about, think Saddler is commanding his minions to focus more on him than us.” You wave your finger around the air, figuratively drawing the argument back at him. “So if you need some shut-eye too, I was told there’s a bed upstairs.”

Luis chuckles breathlessly, evidently amused at how you effectively countered him. He then hums aloud, seemingly taking your reasoning with careful consideration before a coy smile curves upon his handsome face.

“Qué lindo. So stubborn just to get me to lie with you.”

The color drains from your face in an instant.

“Now hold on a minute-“

The man cuts you off with a rambunctious laugh. “You’re much too easy to tease, my friend. Very well, then. You win!” he says with an affirmative clap before making his way to the stairs. Halfway up, he stops in his tracks to look down at you. “Well? You coming?”

You wait to see if he would follow up with further teasing. When he didn’t, you wordlessly got up from the chair and joined him. As he said, there is indeed a bed on the far wall of the room. Like the rest of the house, it looks like it had seen better days but neither of you were in a position to be picky especially when sleep was beckoning. You approach the bed and lift the sheets off, dusting as much as you can before setting it back down and doing the same for the pillows. The bed was big enough for two people, so it should be fine to share without worrying about bumping into one another in your sleep.

“There,” you huff, satisfied with how you prepared the bed. “Is there a side you prefe-“

Your voice catches in your throat when you turn around and take in the sight of Luis’ bare back. It was only when you see him fidgeting with the zipper of his pants did you find it again.

“What are you doing?!” you practically screech.

The dark-haired man glances casually at you over his broad shoulder, not at all bothered by your sharp tone.

“What does it look like? I’m making myself comfortable,” shrugs Luis. “I suggest you do the same. You’ll get sick if you sleep in wet clothes.”

The desire to argue for the sake of arguing was strong, but you found yourself distracted by his physique. For a man who claims to be just a “simple researcher”, he is pretty cut. The definitions of his muscles are both impressive and pleasing to the eye. It didn’t help that the man is devilishly good-looking as well, not that you will ever say that out loud. The man’s ego was big enough as it is.

If you were taking too long to speak up, Luis didn’t say. He turned his head away from your direction. “I won’t look, prometo. And I’ll take the left side. Muchas gracias.”

A man of his word, Luis did not once look your way as he wordlessly went to his side of the bed and slips himself beneath the sheets. After a moment of inner conflict, you heed his advice and strip yourself down to your underwear as well, taking your clothes and his to hang off the stair railing. Finally reaching the bed, you see that Luis was still lying on his side. The heavy breathing your ears pick up suggests that he’s fast asleep. Although your heart was beating frantically, you settle under the covers as well. Your form mirroring his with your back towards him. Sleep came quickly.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when you woke up, you only know that it is still storming outside… and Luis Serra is on top of you.

His whole body is practically draped over yours. He partially lied with his chest both against the bed and on your side. The heavy weight of his right arm was wrapped around your middle with his hand resting almost possessively on your hip. You can feel his breath fan against your neck, leaving warm, lingering tingles upon your skin. It suddenly felt impossibly hot in this chilly room.

You didn’t need to see the man’s face to know he is still sleeping, snoring soundly against your ear. Careful not to wake him, you tried to move away. However, the moment you fidgeted, Lus stirs and his hand moves from your hip to your shoulder, effectively keeping you in place.

Well, then. This is awkward.

The idea of waking him up came to mind but you thought better against it. Why embarrass you both and deny the other some meaningful rest? That was the excuse you came up with as you feel the man nuzzle against your neck and shoulder. The scratch of his facial hair feeling wonderful against your skin. An involuntary sigh of pleasure escapes your mouth and you had to bite your bottom lip to stop more from coming out. You needed to pull yourself together. The man is sleeping, for god’s sake, and here you were, getting hot and bothered.

Just as you were about to accept your situation with grace, you feel Luis move once more. Followed by a lethargic groan, he twists until he is on his back, withdrawing his hand from your person until it rested on his sculpted abdomen. His eyes are still closed. His expression is peaceful, absent of the coquettish mask he usually wears. The man looks impossibly beautiful like this and you found yourself reaching a curious hand towards his face. You manage to stop right before his cheek, mesmerized by his sleeping form. If lives weren’t on the line, you’d watch him forever.

“How long have you been awake?”

The sound of his thick accent made you jolt, retreating your hand back to your side. You almost thought you were imagining Luis’ voice until your eyes catch the flutter of his lashes. Grey eyes peeking in your direction.

Unable to think of anything better to say, you candidly answer back, “How long have you?”

The Spaniard grins wryly. “Tocado. Point taken.”

He turns his head, his expression telling that the man is well-rested and now focused entirely on you. There was something in his eyes that you cannot place. Or more accurately, there was an emotion within them that you recognized all too well as you were certain you had the same burning in yours but dared not to acknowledge our loud. You mimic his movements, ensnared by his magnetic gaze. When he turned his body so that he was completely facing you, you did the same. Neither of you have broken eye contact. In the corner of your vision, you see him lift his hand until it hovered over your hip at the exact same spot it was before. Luis doesn’t lower it, however, his eyes silently asking for your permission. A slight nod from you was the sign he was waiting for and you are graced by his warm touch once more.

His thumb caresses soft patterns against your hip bone, teasing the skin beneath the band of your underwear. Your breath hitches, his subtle touches already stirring something fierce inside you.

“¡Mierda! Don’t make that face.” the man growls, wearing a serious, pained expression. You blink in confusion. Instead of elaborating right away, Luis earnestly squeezes your hip, earning a wanton gasp from your mouth, and pulls you in against him by the curve of your back.

“If you keep looking at me like that, mi amor,” he says through gritted teeth, his hot breath mingling with yours. “I won’t be able to savor you slowly.”

That undid you.

You weren’t sure which of you two closed the distance. While the storm was pouring freezing rain outside, you and Luis kept one another plenty warm inside.

A/N: Thanks for reading. You can find the next (Rated M) part here ;)

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creedslove · 1 year

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BETRAYED - PART NINE

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: fluff, like, a lot of fluff, implied age gap, mentions of death, and descriptions of a catholic wedding (I just wrote down how they go in my country, but no, it's not *the* wedding you're thinking about) and mentions of smut

A/N: Just one more chapter and we wrap up this story!!! I hope you guys enjoy this one because I know my heart melted while I wrote it!!!

A/N part 2: still can't manually tag people on the works because I use the app and it won't let me do it, that's why I don't have a tag list at all!

3.4k words

One year later

You stood at the altar feeling excitedly but also a little anxious. A bunch of familiar faces stared at you taking in all the details of the ceremony that was about to begin.

You could even spot Pedro among the guests, he looked handsome, as he always did, his hair was a little longer now, making it wilder in a way it made him sexier than before. He noticed your eyes on him and winked, as if he encouraged you in that situation

And that's why being a bridesmaid was so fun. While the focus wasn't necessarily you and your group of bridesmaids, you were all in the spotlight while the bride took long to arrive.

You could practically hear all the thoughts crossing people's minds, how they judged the dresses, the makeups and the hairstyles. It always happened and you wouldn't be any exception, but not that you cared very much about it, as you were so happy for your best friend Nat tying the knot with her dream guy, nothing would bother you at all.

As you felt Pedro's gaze on you, burning your skin, you thought of everything that happened this past year. It didn't even feel real, after you left his home that morning, you never returned. And he kept his word of not coming after you, which was all you needed in order to get your life back on track.

The first thing you did when you got home was to change all the locks to prevent anyone from breaking into your house. It didn't matter if it was Liev, a burglar or Pedro himself. You never wanted to walk into your home, a place you assumed safe and find someone uninvited there. Then, your second part of your action plan was to look for another gym, so you could train without having to change your schedule every single time you didn't want to run into someone in there. You wanted to exercise, to see people, to feel the endorphins flood your body and not step on eggshells all the time. Needless to say, it was a good decision.

Then, you just focused on yourself.

You finally finished your studies, you found a job that made you happier and paid well too. You took short trips here and there, getting to know new places and you also looked at yourself in the mirror and realized you were more beautiful than ever, and that was why you were loving yourself, you took care of yourself and you put yourself in the first place, just like it should've been from the beginning.

You still had feelings for Pedro, of course, but the distance helped manage it, some days you were able to go by without even thinking of him, and others you missed him deeply. You didn't know if his feelings for you changed, but you weren't as close as you once were. However, you weren't estranged either. It was just that your lifestyles got simply too different and your lives took different paths, making it so hard to be around each other.

After Pedro's career took off he became almost impossible to reach - physically at least.

He was already well-known when you two had all that story going on, of course, but now it had reached stratospherical levels. He was a big deal, he was a big celebrity, all your social media was flooded by videos, his interviews and his pictures. You began following his career, from afar, admiring him, how far he'd come, feeling your chest burst with pride every time he was nominated for an award or you saw him walking down a red carpet. It was still disturbing to you to see how much he was harassed by the media, how he couldn't walk down the street without being photographed and how they picked on the whole daddy thing. Sometimes it was a little funny though, seeing him blush and her visibly embarrassed at that. You often chuckled to yourself when you eventually saw his fans writing the sweetest things about him, how they called him their boyfriend or future husband, if only they knew your story, they'd call you crazy for turning him down. Because to them, Pedro was perfect, a prince charming. And to you, he was just a human being, with flaws and qualities, like everyone else.

You two didn't go the whole year without speaking, quite the opposite, your phone would buzz eventually, receiving a text or two from him. And you would often text him as well. Just simple things: birthday messages, wishing each other happy holidays or checking up on each other. Nothing too intimate, but enough to show you still cared and worried about each other.

He watched your stories and liked your pictures, and you did the same. Being there, even if you weren't there anymore. It was confusing, but it worked for a while.

When you realized you were able to see his pictures with fans, co-stars and women you had no idea who they were and your whole body didn't heat up in anxiety and jealousy and your heart didn't drop at your toes, at the mere thought crossing your mind of them being his lay for the night, you knew you were ready to let him in.

Not exactly let him in, you didn't know if he still cared about you like that, or if you would still have anything in common, or if he would even bother becoming your friend again now that he had met some many different people. But you still decided to text him, best case scenario he would reply and you would have a conversation, worst case scenario he would leave you on 'seen' and you would move on with your life, because you lived for yourself now, and not for Pedro.

Of course he replied to your message right away. He smiled big when he read it and couldn't even believe after all that time you were the one engaging in a conversation with him. God knows how many times it took all of his willpower to erase the gigantic texts he wrote you and just drop a 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy Birthday, mariposa' he'd promised you he would let you live your life, and just like a butterfly, he let you be free but now you were flying to him again - maybe, that was what he hoped at least, so he allowed himself to daydream.

You'd sent a simple text telling him how much you enjoyed his new series, and if he had time next time he was in town, maybe you could go for drinks. He replied almost immediately, saying he couldn't wait.

And your conversation began.

Slowly, you would text through the day about many things, while he was away and lonely, he told you all about his shooting routine and what he did for fun so far away from home.

You updated him on everything knew in your life, seeing how proud of you and happy he really got. You briefly mentioned you were thinking of learning a second language, to which he quickly suggested Spanish.

But when your uncle died you didn't get a text from him. Instead, Pedro managed to get a short break from filming and hopped on a plane. He wanted to be there for you, it didn't matter to him if he was going to be there as a friend or as a possible boyfriend, he just wanted to hold you while you cried because he knew how important family was to you. He wanted to attend the funeral by your side, to dry your tears and tell you comforting words. And that was exactly what he did.

You couldn't believe your eyes when he showed up there, in black and pulling you into his embrace, which reminded you it used to be your favorite place in the world and at that moment, it became your favorite again.

You had no strength to discuss feelings with him, and he wasn't after that either. He just wanted to try and make that moment a little less miserable for you.

But the moment the funeral service was over, Pedro would have to come back to his work again. He apologized a hundred times for not being able to stay longer with you, but you assured him it was alright, not forgetting to thank him for coming all the way just to be with you.

He said goodbye with one of his warm hugs and a peck on the cheek, that landed way too close to your lips, it didn't matter if it was on purpose or not. The damage had already been done.

From the moment you realized he had left his job - the thing you assumed he loved the most in life - for you without expecting anything in return. That familiar warmth in your chest appeared after months and months of it being dormant. It was hard to deny how much you loved Pedro.

•••

You had always heard horrible stories about women who agreed to becoming bridesmaids and had to deal with the infamous bridezilla. You were sure it wouldn't be Nat's case, but those women were not exaggerating when they said you would have to put a lot of effort, energy and even money to a moment that wasn't even yours.

While all the guests were comfortably sitting down, you along with the other girls and the bestmen had to stand up the whole ceremony. You knew the priest was probably saying beautiful words about love and stuff, as you could see the emotion in some people's eyes and how some of them even sniffed and shed one or two tears, but you were just not paying attention. Church services weren't really your thing, you tried really hard not to get bored, but it was too late, you were already bored.

That's why your eyes scanned the whole place, not really focusing on anything in particular, you just hoped time would go by faster and you wished you would all skip to the reception, because there were other things you wanted to do and mostly other people you wanted to talk to. You looked all over the church decoration and though it looked very beautiful and elegant you thought about how you would never have a wedding in a place like that. Then you watched Nat's wedding dress closely. Of course you'd seen it a couple of times already since the early stages of planning and preparing the wedding, but at that moment it looked different and you couldn't stop yourself from wondering if you'd ever get married at all and wear a pretty dress like that. You shook those thoughts away from your mine and looked at the guests absent-mindedly, not watching anything in particular until your eyes locked with Pedro's.

He didn't even blink and sustained your look, he was completely oblivious to a wedding happening just a few feet away from you, as you were really the only thing that mattered to him.

After flying to you for your uncle's funeral, you weren't able to meet again, as he was more and more caught up at work and you also had your own life. So when he got the invitation to the wedding, he didn't think twice before confirming his attendance, though he didn't really care that much about the bride and groom, he was still thankful to them.

You blushed softly and smiled big at him, he wasn't too distant, just a few rows away from the altar, close enough for you to see when he mouthed 'hermosa' making you look down in shyness. You knew Nat and Pedro had seen each other maybe five or six times and the only times she talked to him was to tell him how much her boyfriend - and now husband - loved Mandalorian. So you knew she had only invited him because of you and Pedro had only showed up to the wedding because of you as well. It felt quite good, you had to admit and for that, you even forced yourself to pay attention to the ceremony again.

Once the reception started you thought the fun would start as well, but you were wrong. Now, the bridesmaids duty kept you busy each passing second. First you had to follow the bride and groom to the photo session, then you had to assist the bride to make her big entrance, and after it you had to help her go to the restroom, which was the most chaotic part: four girls helping another lift up layers and layers of cloth in order to be able to pee.

And when you realized, it was already dinner time. As the food was served people stayed at their tables, usually guests were starving after the whole marathon of sitting through a long and tedious ceremony, then endless waiting until the bride and groom showed up.

The whole time you and Pedro exchanged looks and smiles, he even texted you in hopes to talk to you, but you were way too busy to check your phone, at the same time as soon as some guests recognized Pedro, he was bombarded with requests for selfies, autographs and girls throwing themselves at him. And he was way too nice to decline those requests even if it bothered him - though he declined the girls right away.

You thanked the heavens when dinner was finished, you knew the dance floor would be finally open to the guests until you remembered a very tacky wedding custom.

The bride was going to throw the bouquet. You pinched the bridge of your nose in embarrassment, you've always hated that moment, ever since you were a kid and your parents dragged you to relative's weddings.

Just a bunch of women going all savage over a couple of flowers made you cringe to the core, so you stepped aside and waited for the small crowd to gather. You tried to brush it off at the insistence of some people, but when Nat cleared her throat and gave you accusatory eyes, you even tried to argue. But she motioned her head towards Pedro and you saw him waiting for you to get in the small commotion. He had his hands inside his pocket and a dirty smirk, he couldn't wait to see you pick the bouquet, he was sure you'd look gorgeous.

You on the other hand felt embarrassed and awkward to stand there, Nat got in position and showed all the single ladies the bouquet, making them all shout in excitement. She looked at you and winked softly, and you gulped. Oh no, there was only one thing worse than fighting over a bouquet of flowers in front of a crowd of people, and that was definitely receiving the bouquet out of pity.

So when she threw it towards you, you stood still, making absolutely no move and watched it as it flew right past you.

You turned around and saw when two women were almost on the floor, struggling to get the bouquet. Nat frowned at you, confused as to why you didn't get it, you just shrugged at her. You didn't want to get married, there was only one thing you wanted to do, and when you thought you were finally able to do it, the DJ announced it was time for the waltz.

You rolled your eyes, as annoyance spread through your body. It had been hours all you were trying to do was to exchange a couple of words with Pedro, but that seemed impossible.

The guests all gathered around the bride and groom as they showed their rehearsed steps, some people swooning over them but you just looked around, trying to find Pedro, needing to see him and talk to him. But he wasn't there anymore.

Had he gone home? You knew he enjoyed parties, but you weren't sure about wedding parties, especially the ones where he was harassed every five minutes by people who insistently wanted pictures or just goof around a movie star.

But he wouldn't just leave you without saying goodbye, would he? Over the months your relationship became stronger even if you weren't physically close.

You were deep in thought as you felt someone touching your wrist, making you jump a little at the sudden touch and turned around, seeing Pedro standing there.

And he looked good. Very good.

He was wearing a dark suit, all in black. It hung tight to the right places as he looked absolutely like sin. His hair was messy like always and you caught a few gray streaks on his beard and that made you weak at the knees.

You smiled big and held his hand "Pedro! I thought you'd left!"

He raised his eyebrow and chuckled "do you really think I'd sit through a whole wedding and then leave before talking to the only reason why I'm here in the first place?" He held your hand and eyed you up and down, not even hiding how much he appreciated your looks "I don't mean to be one of those bitchy people who come to the party and trash talk it, but when we get married we'll have a lot less church and a lot more party"

Pedro's words stirred something inside of you, even if it was a joke, you felt yourself blushing.

"Too bad it won't happen, I mean, I didn't catch the bouquet so…" you replied in a shy way and made him laugh as well

"Yeah, well, we can figure this out later, right now I'd like to have a dance with the most beautiful girl at the party?" He offered his hand to you, and you hesitated at first

"It depends, Pedro" you saw his confusion, finding it quite amusing

"It depends on what, hermosa?" He questioned curiously

"Where's your plus one?" You saw how he frowned not really getting where you were going

"What plus one, Y/N? I came alone…"

You laughed softly and nodded, taking a step closer and accepting his invitation.

"I was just making sure, you know, I was friends with a guy once and he pulled such a jerk move, where he invited a plus one to a party and ditched her to dance with another girl and ended up taking this other girl home and left his plus one really heartbroken"

A deep shade of crimson spread through his face as he was at a loss of words for a while. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard.

"H-he sounds like a real dick" he replied a little self conscious, not sure if you were joking or playing games

"He really was, but I heard he managed to change into a better person and his plus one even forgave him after all"

His smile was wide and the relief in his eyes was visible as he wrapped his arms around your waist and glued your body to his. It was a slow ballad and you wrapped your arms around his neck at the same time you swayed your hips together.

"Thank you for forgiving me, I really missed you" he whispered against your ear, your faces were inches apart and you closed your eyes, his cologne lingering on your skin. You took your hand to the back of his neck, stroking his hair and feeling it softly between your fingers.

"We needed this, Pedro… I guess now we could start things over" you said and welcomed his lips against yours, as they crashed in a needy contact. You moaned lowly at the feel of his tongue against yours. His hands squeezed your waist and if you could get any closer to him, you would have, because you could swear that was not enough.

His kiss was intense and unlike the other times, he wasn't trying to overpower you and make you accept him playing dirty with your hormones, he was kissing you, feeling you and taking you as his. And you wanted it as much as he did.

When you broke the kiss, he nibbled your bottom lip, caressing your cheek and not giving a care in the world if someone filmed or photographed you.

You danced as if there was no tomorrow, as the ballad was over, you danced with Pedro to any kind of songs that came in the playlist, you had fun and when sexier songs came up, you dance even more, loving how you rubbed your body against his and Pedro never spared any neck kiss or groping your body.

By the time you could feel a tent against your ass, you turned to him, kissing his lips again.

"I guess it's time to get out of here, princesa" he whispered into your ear and squeezed your ass. You moaned against his lips as you couldn't agree more.

_____

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did, it was just so easy to write I was really into it. I loved it so much and I can't believe this series is almost over 😞 also, if y'all don't go soft on Pedro now I don't know what to do, LMAO

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #javier pena #javier peña #joel miller

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auteurdelabre · 2 months

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A little Sun part 3.2

part one / part two / part 2.1

rating: 18+ (MINORS GET OUTTA HERE OR I'M TELLIN' YOUR MAMAS)

Story Summary: As a PA to megastar and mega man-child Dieter Bravo you've had your fair share of headaches. Getting accidentally pregnant with his baby however takes the cake, especially when he offers to pay you to be his surrogate. You just weren't expecting to fall in love with him along the way.

tags: Surrogacy, Pregnancy, Body changes re: pregnancy, Mutual Pining, Idiots in love, P in V, Dirty talk, Unprotected Sex, Romance, Oral (f receiving), Cigarettes, Drugs, Mentions of Parental Death, Vulnerable Dieter, Vulnerable Reader.

a/n: y'all I'm really annoyed because tumblr won't let me post the entire chapter in one post because of whatever reason. So if you wanna read it all in one go, I'm posting it to my A03 or just click the parts above.

dividers by @silkholland

Most days if you’re distracted you can forget that you’re pregnant altogether. That is, until Dieter comes home with a strange food from set that makes you run to the bathroom to vomit. Or when you try to fit into your favorite CCR t-shirt and break down into tears when it won’t go over your now fairly swollen belly.

Dieter is gone for the night tonight; he and Mia are at some fundraiser for one of the folks on set’s hospital bills. You know that Dieter will end up paying whatever the guy needs; it’s just in his character. He’s brash and annoying and childish, but Dieter is always the first person to pay for something. Magda needed surgery for her cataracts and Dieter paid for everything, plus a month long vacation so she could relax.

And here you sit on your sofa because you feel like you’re carrying a watermelon strapped to your stomach and you feel like shit. The only good thing is your hair looks amazing; silky and shiny and beautiful.

You decide a bath might be just the thing to turn your mood around.

You’re just settling into the large claw foot tub, bubbles up to your collar and closing your eyes when the door bursts open.

“Hey I need advice.”

You immediately start, almost splashing half the water out of the tub in the process. You cover your breasts with your arms, shooting your uninvited guest a glare.

"Dieter I'm having a bath!"

"Nothing I haven't seen before," he says with a shrug before sitting next to the claw foot tub. He brings his knees to his chest before he crosses his ankles. "I want your advice."

"My advice is you get the fuck out of here."

"I can't see anything from here," he tells you with a pout. "But if it makes you feel better I'll turn around."

You watch him shuffle until his spine is kissing the side of the tub. You peek over to see his hands are nowhere near his cock and you relax back.

"Better?"

"What advice do you want Dieter?" You sigh, accepting that this relaxing bath will be anything but.

"It's Mia."

"Mhmm?"

"I...I really like her."

"She's very likable."

"She is, isn't she?"

From where you lay all you can see is the back of Dieters head, his full locks shifting as you imagine he smiles.

"So what do you want my advice on? If its relationship advice you're out of luck," you laugh humorlessly. "I've never had a relationship that lasted more than a year."

"Me neither," Dieter says, head tilting to the side.

You ponder on this for a moment. How two people with such opposing walks of life could end up similarly situated in terms of romance. You know why Dieter gives people at a distance, concern that they're only after him for his money or his fame. Concerned that they're only after him for some cache at stardom.

But in all this time, you've never taken the time to reflect on why you yourself shy from intimacy. On why school and working eat up so much of your time and your thoughts.

As you sit here now, stomach's swollen with child you're forced to accept the fact that perhaps you haven't just been shying from intimacy. You might have been running away from it full tilt.

Will your child be like this? Have you created a life in you and capable of finding lasting connection with another human being? Have you already saddled this child with a fate of loneliness? Guilt, this terrible guilt suddenly overtakes you.

You want to talk to Dieter about it, you want to question him and see if he has the same fears. But his thoughts are (as they so often are) frenzied and landing in an area of pleasure. His thoughts are of Mia, of her sweet face and even sweeter personality. He thinks of how she makes him feel, like he's capable of anything.

"I'm just.... I wonder if I should tell Mia about the baby."

You feel your heart skip in your chest and your fingers creep along the edge of the tub before curling.

"Why would you do that?"

Dieter shrugs. "Things feel like they could get serious."

"You haven't known her very long, Dieter."

"So?"

"So I think you want to play house with a girl that has stars in her eyes.”

You see his shoulders tense. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"She's a beautiful young woman at the start of her career," you sigh, popping some of the nearby bubbles. "Being attached to a single dad right now isn’t fair."

Dieter straightens at this. Single dad. He never really thought of himself like that. The concept makes him wince. He thinks of the nights here when you're busy or sleeping. The nights when his bed feels colder.

"I'm tired of being alone okay?"

"That's a shitty reason to do that to someone," you bite back. "Mia has her own life, her own career."

"She can still have that-"

"Not when she's playing Mrs. Bravo," you tell him, cheeks heating from the water and your irritation. "You think the media isn't going to be all over this? Hollywood’s Good Girl caught up with Hollywood’s Bad Boy? You think her career won't be in jeopardy when the tabloids find out she’s fallen into bed with her costar?"

Dieter goes quiet. You wish you could see his eyes. His eyes never lie.

"I think you're doing this because you finally realized the giant undertaking it is to be a parent,” you say softly. “I think you're hoping that somehow she'll be your partner in all of this and help ease your load. But this was your decision, not hers. You wanted to be a dad. You wanted to have this kid."

“I know I did!” Dieter snarls and now he whirls around to face you. “And I can do it by myself!”

“Then why-“

“Is it so wrong to want someone else? Someone who wants me?”

Before you can answer he’s pushed himself from beside the tub and gone from the room, slamming the door behind him. The force of it knocks one of the paintings from the wall, denting the wood frame of it. You sigh and lean back in your tub, wishing you could understand the pit that’s begun in your stomach.

You find it impossible to fall asleep later that night, not just because of the horrible way you ended things with Dieter, but because he’s been blasting his music all fucking night from his art room. He’s been in there since he left you in the bathroom, the scent of cigarettes and what you assume is one of his fancy whisky bottles seeping from under the door.

You eventually manage to catch a few hours of sleep but are awoken to a loud thump from the art room and Dieter’s muffled fuck this! The music is still going full tilt and this sends you into a fit of pique.

You manage to roll yourself out of bed with a huff before you march down the hallway and push into the studio, flinching when Dieter screams over the music at you before you've even made it past the threshold.

"You're supposed to knock!"

Since when?

He looks crazed. His hair is even more wild and unruly than usual, his t-shirt is covered in paint. You glance around to see the entire room is littered with papers, charcoal, pencils, paint tubes and more. It's like an art store exploded all over the room. He's standing behind an easel, his body blocked mostly by the large canvas he’s working on.

He moves to the door, quickly ushering you backwards out of the room before you can see what he's working on that has him so upset.

"Dieter what the hell-"

"That's my private sanctum," he tells you, pulling the cigarette from between his lips, blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth as he glares at you. "You stay out."

"Sorry sorry," you say rolling your eyes at his hysterics. "I'm just trying to sleep and your music is so loud."

He blinks as if only realizing now that the sun has gone down. He scratches at his chest absently, eyes drawing to the darkened windows.

"What time is it?"

"Three in the morning. Don't you have work in a couple of hours?"

Dieter has a faraway look to his eyes and he finally nods. "Yeah, yeah I do. I should sleep."

He makes no move to leave the doorway. You roll your eyes before holding out your hand to him. Instinctively he moves forward taking it.

"C'mon Bravo. Let's get you to bed."

Hand in hand you make your way to the hallway, guiding him through the grainy darkness that your eyes are more adjusted too. You stop in front of his room, dropping his hand gently and turning away, ready to pad to your own bedroom down the hall.

"Will you sleep in my bed? With me?"

You're about to laugh at him at the suggestion but when you glance over your shoulder you see his eyes are glazed. They have that little boy lost quality that peeks out every so often. When you can see past the bravado of too cool for school Dieter and see the scared boy from South America who got teased for having an earring.

"Yeah, sure." Your eyes drop to his paint-splattered shirt. "Take off the shirt unless you want your sheets ruined."

He strips it from him without question, watching you enter into his bedroom ahead of him. His heart pounds painfully as he watches you slip under the covers as if you've always belonged there.

He clamors in, trying not to stare at the soft mounds of your breasts underneath your sleep shirt. Before his courage leaves him he tilts forward onto his palms towards you. He sweeps a kiss across your brow bone before retreating back to his side of the large mattress.

He rolls facing away from you, thankful that you're here with him in his bed. He feels so much calmer with you here near him.

He doesn't want to crowd you and he knows if he sleeps facing you he'll be unable to keep his hands to himself. Every day you look more and more pregnant and it makes him want you so badly his stomach aches.

He thinks of earlier, and the way you’d called him out on his every insecurity. Sometimes he hates that you know him so well. Most days though, it warms him from the inside out to be so known and seen.

“I’m sorry I yelled before.”

He's shocked when he feels your body press up against his back, your belly pressing tightly against his spine. When your arm slings itself over his waist he has to swallow the unexpected tears. And then he feels it, the soft whisper of your lips against his shoulder.

"I know. Go to sleep, Dee."

The weather is unusually warm when you wake up the day of your ultrasound. Dieter has been bouncing off the walls all week, desperate to "see his child". He wanted to do a 3D ultrasound but you begged him to just stick with the normal kind.

Because the truth is you're sort of terrified to see the kid.

A lot of your time is spent trying to forget that you're pregnant, despite the evidence that makes you take out the waistband of your favorite sweatpants. The thought of seeing him or her in 3D freaks you the fuck out. You don't want to know exactly what's growing in there.

Dieter fights every instinct in his body to take your hand as the two of you pull up to the private clinic. You’re taken to a large exam room filled with sterile equipment and plus seats. You’re instructed to lay back on a chaise that probably costs more than your first apartment.

Dieter looks down at you looking so frightened and feels a pang of care go through him. He sees you absently stroking at your stomach and feels such affection for you in that moment it takes everything in him not to kiss you.

“Can you pass me my bag?”

Dieter nods, handing you the purse on the chair. He watches panic cross your features as you dig around in your ridiculously oversized purse. He’s about to ask you what’s going on when a serious looking woman with white-blonde hair enters the room.

“Bravo family?”

“Yes,” Dieter replies before you can explain that you’re not a family. That you’re just a surrogate. But you’re still digging around in your bag growing increasingly stressed by the moment.

"Fuck I forgot my headphones, did you bring yours?"

"No." Dieter is distracted by the implements this woman is pulling out. He's eager to see his child. He takes the purse from you, placing it back on the seat and out of your reach. You fix him with a desperate look.

“Dieter I need-“

“I’m pushing the shirt up,” the woman orders.

Your shirt is tugged up officiously, exposing the round swell of your stomach. Dieter is fucking feral for it, his eyes raking in the naked flesh with a mixture of desire and a pride that nearly buckles him.

This woman isn't patient like Judy was back in the states. She doesn't wear a name tag. She doesn’t care about you being comfortable or wearing headphones. She's just squeezes the jelly as you and Dieter bicker about the headphones and the wand is quickly pressed against your belly.

You make sure your head is tilted as far from the screen as possible, not wanting to see anything. You still want to pretend that there’s nothing in there. That you’re a rented womb. That this thing growing inside you has nothing to do with you.

"Do you want to know the sex today?"

"Yes," Dieter nods and you wish more than anything that you hadn't forgotten your headphones. Learning this will make it more real, more tangible. Then he looks down at you, eyes soft. “Is that okay?”

You consider plugging your ears with your fingers but it won't do any good. Dieter won't be able to stop talking about it until you give birth. For a moment the severe woman pauses, cocking a brow in your direction before you finally give her a short nod. She looks back to the ultrasound, confirming before telling you both.

"It's a boy."

Dieter is sure he can feel his heart overflowing. He's going to have a son. This will be the only performance he cares about: that of good father. Without thinking he clutches your hand in his, overcome.

You go to pull back, to pull away and then you hear it. This steady, soft thudding that makes you pause. A strange hypnotic sound as ancient as time itself.

Your son's heartbeat.

Dieter watches the way you slowly blink. Your head which is always tilted away from the monitor now slowly drags to look over at it.

Your eyes are wide, and your body tenses as this being, this life becomes real to you. He’s right there. As you see his coiled, sleeping frame in the monitor and know that this life is inside you now. That you are his home, his protector, his love.

"Hi," you whisper to the tiny being on the screen. "Hi little boy."

That's your son onscreen. You made that child together with the man clutching your hand.

You made this. You made life.

It's so real. He's there, this child you thought of as a commodity, as something you were merely the vessel for. How could you have been arrogant enough to think you wouldn't grow attached? How could your hubris have convinced you that you could separate yourself emotionally?

That’s him. He’s right there. You look at your stomach, amazed that while you were busy pretending he didn’t exist, he was there growing so close to your heart. He was there sleeping and eating and living. Tears dot your lash line and you turn to Dieter, his face so close to yours. You see the tears glossy in his eyes. Affection deep and abiding fills you and you can't stop yourself from pressing your lips against his. He’s immediately receptive, his hand going to your cheek.

The previously stern nurse smiles softly before excusing herself to get a copy of your ultrasound.

At the sound of the door closing behind her it’s like you both remember who you are – boss and employee. Surrogate. You’re being paid for this. His eyes go wide as you abruptly pull back, realizing too late that you've stepped over the line.

"I'm sorry," you breathe. "That was-"

"It's okay," Dieter says warmly. "It's emotional."

A short while later you're still mortified about what just happened inside. Dieter is uncharacteristically quiet as you both hear towards the towncar. The day is beautiful, sunny and its like the world just got brighter because of what you’ve just learned.

"I can't... I can't believe," you say softly, your mind still back in that room.

"I know," Dieter says, smile wide. "Fucking unbelievable. I'm gonna have a son."

I'm. Not we.

"Yeah, you are."

You walk slowly back to the car, taking your time to bask in the warmth of the day. He longs to take your hand in his but he knows that’s not what you want.

The kiss inside hadn’t been romantic. It had been emotional, the result of sharing something few would. You created life, even if you weren’t together you were forever tied to this tiny being within you.

He can see your eyes are distant, unfocused. He has a pretty good idea about what.

"Got regrets?"

"What? About giving away the... Bubble? No." You shake your head forcing a laugh. "Never wanted kids."

"Yeah you've said that a few times," Dieter observes, eyes stuck on you. He carries his coffee cup loosely in his fingers as you stroll towards the car. "But I mean, people can change."

"Not about this," you tell him. The tone is frosty, but you're holding your mouth in that way he recognizes now. The same look you had that first night in Ireland when you talked about your dad. You're trying not to cry.

Dieter feels his chest constrict.

"Listen, yes I'll have sole custody. But if you wanted photos and shit? I'd understand. It could be like the app. I'd send you updates. Photos, videos anytime you want. I know you’ll be busy with school, but maybe I could bring him up for visits if you feel like it?"

Your heart leaps at the thought.

Yes.

But that's what you say to a hormonal woman, you reason. You tell her what she wants to hear. Not what's practical. Dieter is going to be a father to this child and if he has it his way, Mia will probably be sticking around to be the mom. You’ll be a third wheel, a confusion for your child.

"That's not necessary," you say with a shrug. "This is just all hormones. I'll be f-"

You break off with a gasp, your hand balancing against the towncar for purchase.

"What?" Dieter looks terrified.

"I... I think he just kicked!"

Before Dieter can stop himself his wide hand is over your hand on your belly, cradling it. You both wait a moment and then yes, Dieter feels it, a tiny flutter against his palm. His eyes fill with tears.

"Holy shit!" You both exclaim in unison.

Then you both giggle like schoolchildren that have just learned a new swear world. A breathless giddy laughter that seems to go on forever. You let Dieter keep his hand on your belly, the other over his mouth in disbelief.

"Thank you for doing this," Dieter finally offers thickly, staring at you in a way that warms you from the inside. "You're changing my life. I feel like the money isn't enough."

"Just don't name him Lemon-Pillow Bravo and we'll be square," you say with a laugh that he returns, eyes crinkling in the corners. He stares at you, looking at the softness in your face pregnancy has brought, the sweet way you’re smiling at him. The position your hand is in resting gently over his on your belly.

Dieter can’t help himself, his head tilts towards yours precisely the same time yours moves towards his. His mouth finds yours, kissing you softly as he cradles your pregnant belly. Your hand goes to the back of his neck, holding him loosely there as you kiss him back, eyes shut, tongues dabbing gently. The cameras catch it all.

#pedro pascal dieter #dieter bravo smut #dieter x reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal #smut #dieter bravo x reader #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo fic

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lightwing-s · 10 months

Note

Here's a random thought: since the batfam are all busy, they would technically skip meal, Jason came home one day to visit just to see all family members (and some uninvited guest, maybe their teammates) all presented for the gathering and him being sarcastic when he saw them watching a food vlogger cooking meals with her boyfriend and they eat it together (who doesn't show himself), before realise it's reader and him, which he immediately take a pic of the rest of batfam before sending it to his girlfriend for teasing with Alfred standing beside him asking when to bring reader home and he replied "Soon"

a/n: idk if that's what you wanted, but i just couldn't help making this a blurb :3

They know that it's not good for their health to skip meals, and they know they should be taking care of their bodies as vigilantes, but it's impossible to coincide their day and their night lives plus having all necessary meals in a day.

But when the family was called by the bats for a discussion on the new trade routes around gotham and the dark knight failed to arrive on time, tim put on some random youtube video and they all attentively watched the girl prepare her meal in the most chill and relaxing vlog they had seen.

"Can I marry her?" Dick said, cheeks pressed against Damian's shoulder.

"No, you can't" Jason replied almost instantly, sounding more annoyed than he wanted to. "She has a boyfriend."

Before Dick had a chance to ask any questions, a man was shown in the screen from the neck down, the vlogger giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek and sitting down to eat right beside him.

"Now, I want a girlfriend." Damian said, a pout weirdly painted on his face.

Sneakly, Jason snapped a picture of the whole family watching the couple eating and sent it to Alfred.

alfred: I have to say, Master Jason, the camera does make your arms look larger. jason: i told you! it makes me look a few pounds heavier. alfred: And they haven't realized it was you yet? jason: no. alfred: And you are not bringing her home, why? jason: soon, alfie. soon.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd blurb #jason todd fluff #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 2 months

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I must have missed the Met Gala ‘fuck off’ Anna Wintour thingy mabob regarding Meghan.

If you have time could you please expand on it? I saw it on another post and it really peaked my interest 😁

Sure! The only way the rumor makes sense is if you know "Met Gala 101" so I'll start there, then dive into the rumor. I will warn you now, the rumor ends up getting a little tinhatty because the timing is strange.

The main thing to know is that Anna Wintour has final say over everything that happens at the Met Gala, including what/who people wear. (Some people believe she personally approves every outfit, others think she just likes knowing what people are wearing so she can edit and organize the red carpet like it's a photoshoot.) As part of this, Anna also has final approval over who is invited as plus-ones to the designers.

So there are a few different ways to get on the invite list for the Met Gala:

Be the guest of a designer/fashion house who has bought a table or tickets. To get a designer +1, you usually need a personal relationship with a designer (either an ambassadorship like Kristen Stewart is for Chanel or you're besties like Sarah Jessica Parker and Alexander McQueen or Zac Posen and Katie Holmes) or you need to be a hot It celebrity of the moment like Zendaya, Taylor Swift, Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordie.

Purchase your own ticket (they start at $50K nowadays).

Be a huge donor to the Met, either in money or time.

Work at Vogue or one of the Gala's sponsors.

Perform at the Gala (which is how the Kardashians finally got invited - Kim was Kanye's +1, who was performing).

Be the partner/friend of someone who fits into one of these categories, and hope they get a +1 and choose you.

(I also think the gala's co-hosts get a couple of tickets for free.)

That's "Met Gala 101." Now, the rumor.

Edward Enninful, who was then the editor of British Vogue, was said to have invited Meghan to the Met Gala as his +1. (He gets tickets for being a Vogue employee and Anna approved Meghan as his guest because she fell under "hot It celebrity of the moment".) Allegedly, when Anna asked to know what Meghan was going to wear, Meghan upset/offended her, and Anna rescinded her approval for Meghan to be Edward's guest and Edward dropped Meghan.

There are a few different versions about what Meghan did to Anna:

Meghan refused to tell Anna who/what she was wearing.

Anna gave suggestions to Meghan and she refused to listen.

Meghan lied/changed her mind about who she was wearing after getting Anna's OK and changed her outfit.

Supposedly this was for Met Gala 2019. Supposedly, Meghan was so pissed off that she was uninvited from the Met Gala that she had Archie on May 6th to steal the headlines/thunder from Anna in revenge.

I'm not sure how valid this one is. The timing is suspicious because no way would anyone let a due-any-day pregnant woman travel like that, especially not one who was said to be overdue. (I think Harry wrote in Spare that Archie was 2 weeks overdue.) So either it confirms surrogacy - especially when you remember that in January or February, Meghan told a wellwisher "nearly there, not long to wait" about her pregnancy - or it's completely made up. It wouldn't be the first time that someone made something up and it caught on like wildfire.

It's more plausible to me if this was about the 2018 Met Gala, which was held May 7, 2018. A quick google search showed Meghan didn't have any events or make any public appearances around that time so it's possible she could've been planning a quick popover before the wedding. It's when she would have been most in demand and most sought-after, and it would have been a real coup for Anna and Edward to get her "red carpet society debut" over British society.

It wouldn't have been Met Gala 2020, which was cancelled for COVID. Enninful didn't go to Met Gala 2021 (it overlapped with the opening of London Fashion Week and he was photographed at parties with Naomi Campbell. I documented the rumor on my spreadsheet in 2021 so any of the years after don't count.

So, that's the rumor and the backstory. It's totally up to you whether you believe it or not. If it is true, or a variation of it is true, then the Met Gala crowd and the New York elite crowd that's close to Anna would've absolutely heard about Meghan's behavior. The other thing to remember about Anna is that she also occupies British society too, so she may also be aware of what British society says about Meghan (and Harry).

I'll end this with a little bit of Met Gala gossip from last year (2023). Last year, Olivia Wilde showed up to the Met Gala in the same outfit as Margaret Zhang, Vogue China's editor (Olivia's dress was white, Margaret's was blue). This sort of snafu is exactly why Anna likes to have input in what people wear, so Olivia Wilde showing up to a red carpet in the same outfit of another guest - a Vogue editor specifically - is the worst fashion sin of them all. That she did it at the Met Gala? With the entire world watching? I mean, you might as well go crawl under the Brooklyn Bridge and accept your life as the new bridge troll. But that's not the juicy bit. The juicy bit is that Olivia Wilde showing up in the same outfit of another guest means she wasn't the +1 for a designer or a guest of the Met because Anna would've told her to wear something else since the outfit was committed to Margaret. It means that Olivia paid $50K out of pocket to be embarrassed and supposedly Anna and Margaret were both so upset by it that Olivia may have been blacklisted from the gala for a few years. Now, why would Olivia shell out $50K for a ticket? Allegedly Harry Styles was going to be there too and she wanted to get back together with him.

#ask #brf #sussexes

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juvenillia · 7 months

Text

~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 07: names

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: we have a big step ahead with that one and tbh I love it and I'm already kicking my feet at the chapters I'm writing just now... so excited to get e everything done and published

CW/TW: using of y/n (try to avoid it as much as possible though), mentions of blood, loss, violence, injuries, guilt

wordcount: 2.9k

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It took you some time to arrive at the safehouse. It was located even further at the east. You helped clean his wound and took a seat on the couch across the door. Your rifle was steady in your hands to be able to take care of uninvited guests. You didn’t hear from the other two teams in a while, therefore you started to get a bit nervous. You were ordered to go to the safehouse as soon as the target is down, and you had to follow your orders. But the urge to run after the others to see if they might needed backup was huge. “Calm doon.” [Calm down], Soap sat next to you, a protein bar in his palm and handing you one. “I am relaxed.” – “If ya say so.”, he smiled teasingly at you while you took the snack out of his hand. You knew they would be fine, but the pure thought that you were sitting here while they could need your help was a heavy weight, a burden on your shoulders.

Still, you sat here, with Soap by your side and waited. Waited for God knows how long it would take for the others to arrive. “Soooo…”, the Scot started poking his elbow in your side, and you glared at him, part of you jokingly. “Johnny, eh?”, he smiled widely at you. You couldn’t suppress a chuckle but got reminded how you treated him before. “Sorry…” – “Dinnea. I offered ye, ’s fine. Just the …”, you shook your head and made him stop. “That’s not what I mean. I’m sorry for my behavior.” You looked at him, your gaze filled with an apologetic glimpse, and he just smiled back at you. It wasn’t the toothy, cocky grin you usually would see; it was that genuine soft smile. “Maybe, we should just start again.”, he reached his hand out towards you, “Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish.” You smiled back at him and grabbed his hand, and shook it, “y/n ‘Skadi’ Quinn.” It didn’t hurt, it felt good, and so familiar. This could be a brand new start. For this team and for yourself.

“I think we need to kill some time, eh?”, Johnny leaned a bit further into the old couch, you nodded. “Let’s play a little game,” his statue was relaxed but his eyes never left the door in front of him. “Do I have a choice?” He chuckled, “Yer stuck with me, so not really.” – “What’s on your mind?” – “This or that. I tell ye two things and ye have to choose. To get to know each other. Y’know.” – “Bring it on.” Your figure relaxed a bit more, while listening closely to your teammate. “Driver or passenger?” – “Driver.” – “I can see that. Summer or Winter.” – “Fall.” – “ ’s not how it works, lass.” – “What? I don’t like either.” You threw the ball back and forth, you started to ask him a few questions and you chuckled about some way too obvious choices.

“Dark or blonde?”, you heard him asking again, but this one confused you, “Like what? Beer?” He let out a warmhearted laugh, “Nae bonnie. Like yer type”, he shook his head in sheer amusement. You shrugged, “Don’t have one.” – “Oh c’mon, everyone has a type to be into.”, he now faced you instead of the door. Searching in your face for some kind of hints. “To be honest, I don’t care much about looks…plus I’m not really into dating anyways.”, you said calmer than before, looking at him and then back to the door. Bringing some memories back you’d rather forget, but they’ll always stay a part of you. “Yer messin’ with me.” – “I’m not messing with you, MacTavish.”, you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Nae danger! Guys dinnea ask ye out? I mean yer braw as fuck. “[beautiful], his voice was filled with disbelief. “That’s not what I said.”, your cheeks became warmer, and you tilted your head a bit further away. Not wanting him to see your blush. “So, what is it then?” – “I simply don’t go. As I said, not into that kinda stuff.”

Johnny wanted to say something, but before he could, you heard a noise coming from outside. You instinctively went up, gripping your rifle, finger hovering over the trigger. The Scot moved over to the door, his weapon also in his hand. The door opened, and your body immediately relaxed as you noticed the familiar statue of the Lieutenant standing in the door frame. “Lt, yer made it!”, Johnny fist bumped his shoulder. “Thought anything differentx Sergeant?”, his tone was mocking and low, his eyes trailed over to you. This intense glare still presence in his dark eyes. “course not.”, Johnny smiled at him. “Where is Gaz?”, you asked him while relaxing your muscles furthermore. “Got separated.”, Ghost walked further into the room, Soap closing the door behind him. “Bet he’s alright. We heard from Price before.” Something felt off about him, not him in general but about his presence. You didn’t know it for sure, after all you didn’t know him. Maybe it was just the situation itself. Price told you about it, and after your talk, that one evening with Ghost, you knew that this team was everything to him, as well as to Price. So, you didn’t give it a second thought.

Johnny and the other man chatted slowly away; Ghost more listening to what the Scot had to say. Ghost sat on a wooden chair across the couch, where you were seated. Johnny circled through the room while telling the story of your bike ride and how he thought that you would actually get both of you killed. Ghost even chuckled a few times about Johnnys overly dramatic nature. But you couldn’t shake your doubts about Ghost’s presence away. You stood slowly up and walked over to him, a steady but determined step. If that would be a false track, it would lead into nothing than embarrassment, but the doubts clung to you. Stopping directly in front of him and putting yourself at his eye level. He tried to avert his gaze, but you placed your hand directly under his chin. Your fingers brushed over the fabric of his mask, forcing him to look back at you. “Bloody hell, woman.”, he hissed through gritted teeth and tried to push your hand away. Your eyes widen for a second as you stare in his eyes. “Where?”, you voice was stern, but not cold, rather concerned.

“What the…”, Johnny looked at the scenery on front of him completely flabbergasted. You only ignored Soap because you knew Ghost already understood, “Sir, I asked you a question.”, you let go of his chin. You noticed earlier that something was off, but now, you were sure. He had some kind of poison running through his blood. His eyes showed it. They were stained yellow and slightly red. You had seen it before. “Doesn’t matter.” – “Due all respect but don’t bullshit me. Where?”, you spit at him. Did he rather wanted to hide an injury than showing weakness in front od you? He nearly growled back, but turned on the chair to reveal his back that was slightly blood stained. Nearly not noticeable through the dark clothes and layers. “Lt. Why dinnea yer say something?”, Johnny asked in disbelief. He just exhaled deeply, annoyed. “Whatever is in there, we need to get it out.”, you crouched down next to him.

“Permission for me to perform first aid.”, you looked back at him, and he just nodded. You pulled out one of the med kits of your vest. While Ghost took his tactic vest off and pulled his bodice up to reveal the wound. “Let’s get yer friend out, eh, Lt.?”, Johnny teased while handing you some clean alcohol wipes. You could feel how tense your Lieutenant was as you brushed over his bloody spot at the lower back. You tried your best to get the bullet out without causing any more pain, but a bullet that deep was never to be extracted without sorrow. You could hear him groan whenever you moved with the sharp metal in his flesh. “Just a little longer, you’re doing just fine.”, you soothed while you placed your gloved free hand a bit higher on his back. You couldn’t help it, but your gaze wandered over his perfect toned back, clinging at all his scars, any of them telling a story you would gladly listen to, before turning you attention back to the cause of the whole misery. All his muscles were tense, and you could feel them flex with every movement. This situation was intense but somehow not uncomfortable. You could hear him deeply groan once in a while. You whispered some more sweet nothings into his directions, telling him that everything would be fine in a few, and he stayed silent, besides the huffing and groaning.

“Alright Ghost. Let’s stitch you up.”, you said relieved. You handed the bullet over to Johnny, who started to observe the little metal. “Just get it done, already.”, he hissed with a relieved but still stern voice. “Uhu, as long as I praise you, you’re taking it without a word, but now you’re all commanding again, huh?”, you chuckled while preparing the needle. He only snarled, and you knew the amused laugh from Johnny wouldn’t ease his mood. “I think the bullet is soaked with lead acetate.”, Soap said while putting it aside. “Fuckin’ bastards.”, Ghost groaned again as you let the needle carefully slide through his flesh. “You should still get checked properly.”, you said while completing the last stitch and standing up from your position. “Should be fine for now.” He’s turning his body slightly to you, sitting straight back on the chair. When he looked up, he’s greeted with something that really left him astonished. His eyes just a millimeter widened. You’re standing in front of him, eyes closed trustfully, your lips tugged upwards into a genuine beam. It was different then before. He felt different than before. Maybe it was just the adrenaline. “Bonnie, Lt. The evac is here.”, Johnnys voice dragged you back to the here and now. He came to pick up Ghost’s gear as well as his own, and all of you walked over to the jeep.

The rest of the day went calm by. Price and Gaz were alright, Ghost was in the infirmary, Soap took a long nap at one of the couches at the common room. You sat there reading your book, as Price walked in. “Kyle will start decoding the intel we collected tomorrow. Would you help him?”, he said while sitting down in his armchair. “Sure. Two heads are better than one.”, you said, not looking up from your book. Price glance lingered onto the deep asleep Scot. “You did good today. I’m proud of you.”, he said, averting his gaze towards you. “Thanks, Cap.”, you buried your face behind your book. “How’s the Lieutenant?”, face still behind the book, blush creeping over your cheeks. “Good, thanks to you. Already bragging to leave the infirmary.”, he chuckled while grabbing a book himself while you placed yours down. “I’ll head out for a smoke and call it a day then.”, you say while stretching your limbs out. “Don’t smoke too much. Could get you killed.” – “You’re the one talking. Plus, I believe we’re doing by far deadlier things.”, you laughed while leaving, which earned you a chuckle from him, slowly fading away as you walked through the hallway. Maybe lowering your guard around them wasn't even bad at all.

You sat at the wooden terrace, leaning back on your elbow, dragging at the fag between your fingers and watching some recruits making their evening jogs while the sun was still up. A huge relaxation running through your muscles. This team wasn’t so bad, this place wasn’t so bad. Maybe you should give this therapy thing another go. Maybe you could handle it yourself. You didn’t know, but you knew that you slowly grew to like it here. Your head fell slightly back, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. “Mind if I join?”, you immediately noticed his deep voice and shook your head no. You sat in silence next to each other, it wasn’t an awkward silence. Your eyes sometimes moved to his side, and you wondered, you wondered what the person behind that mask would be like. You wore a mask yourself for a long time. It made you help draw a difference between yourself and your ‘in-battle-persona’, a sharp line between your emotions and orders. Even if this line melted through the years and you became more yourself, you still wear a mask sometimes. Still, wearing it, not like before, but it helps.

When his head tilted into your direction, you caught yourself staring again, and so did he, so you instantly forced your eyes to look ahead again. He exhaled deeply. Were he nervous? You couldn’t tell, but before you could lose yourself in your thoughts again, you heard his voice again, “Thanks... for today.” You blinked in confusion before the corner of your lips tugged up, “Anytime.” His statue crumbled a bit, and you could see how his hands fidgeting with something in his pocket. Clearly, to say that his sheer presence made you nervous. Something you could completely shove aside on missions; you felt it all the more now. “Never heard of the brand yer smoking.”, his accent was thick, and you looked up at him, a bit confused. “It’s…”, before you could answer, he held out something to you, what made you stop immediately. His head is still facing forward. “Ya left it that one night on the patio.”

You instantly grabbed the box, and a deep exhale of relief left your throat. “Bloody hell, I thought I lost it.”, you chuckled a bit nervous. A quick glance if everything would be still in it and to your fortune it was still there. You didn’t take the necklace out, not wanting him to see how desperately you were to feel this cold metal against your skin again. Then you took another cigarette and held it over for him. “Want to try one?”, your tone was soft. No thought was wasted that he might feel uncomfortable to smoke in your presence. You knew from Johnny that he indeed did smoke, but you also knew that Ghost literally clung to his mask, and he definitely wouldn’t take it off around you. That you respected, still he took the cigarette out of your grip. You held out your lighter to ignite the fag between his hands. You didn’t look his way as he slightly pulled his mask up, just above the lips. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, still you stole a small glimpse of his well-shaped jaw. A slightly stubble covering his skin. You stared again as he blew out some smoke. Your eyes were dragged to him like moths to the light. You couldn't help it.

“Who was he?”, the question totally dragged you back, your gaze now lingering on the wooden box in your hand. A sorrowful sigh permeates through your lips. “Who?”, your question was pathetic and unnecessary. You knew he would've taken a look in the box; you knew he would see the tag, but still, you hoped he meant something different. “Randy Ellison.”, his voice was still stern but not as cold as you were used to it. Your head fell back once again while you let a cloud of smoke out. You could easily ignore it. You could easily lie... “Droplet. He was a teammate before I joined you guys. Saved my life…more then he ever knew...” Ghost nodded, “A teammate…”, his voice was so uncommon. It made you feel strangely safe. It pierced right through the ice that you tried to create so badly. “More like a brother… one I never wanted but somehow needed…”, you added while puffing out again, a little smile appearing on your lips. “I see....”, his tone was so pure. Your eyes trail over to his figure. Yes, he was still the stoic figure you got to know. But these two little words held so much weight in it. “We have no choice then keep going, huh? That’s what they would want us to.”, he now tilted his head slightly and pulled his balaclava back down, pressing the fag out on the patio. “Seems like you’re right, Ghost.”

You hugged your knees, pulling them close to your chest. Your head rested on them while you watched the sky slowly turn red and orange. You kept sitting here for a while in this solace silence. You never thought that his presence could be something different than intimidating, nearly soothing. All of a sudden, he broke this silence once more, “Simon.”, you lifted your head into his direction again, and you found his eyes already on your figure. Just now, you realized how beautiful deep brown his iris was. Your gaze switching between his two eyes. A bit taken aback from the situation and even more confused. His expression was not really nervous, but also not relaxed. He knew that it was a big, big step forward for both of you, but if Johnny could trust you, after Price already did, he should give it a try. Even if it only was for the sake of them. “'s Simon.”, he repeated, his eyes never moving away from yours. This intense eye contact made you feel lightheaded. You blinked a few times before your face relaxed. “y/n.”, you smiled at him, and you could’ve sworn that you could see the black fabric of his mask move the slightest, just above the spot where his lips stayed hidden.

taglist: open just lmk

@yyiikes @saffronimagines @originaldeerhottub @illuminwtesz @killergoddess97 @kaelaiscool

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lotuspeacock · 1 year

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Kazuki's Top 8 Funny Faces From This Week's Episode!

this episode emotionally (and physically) exhausted me so i'll make an actual analysis tomorrow - for now enjoy kazuki's top silly faces!

8. Duck face when joking with Miri: A more subtle silly face, but silly enough to make it onto the list! (5/10)

7. Coffee spit-take: A very two-dimensional silly face, but it really ties together the shock of the situation. (5/10)

6. The “Uninvited Guest” face: The wrinkles, the rage, the popping vein, and the wide eyes all come together for quite a silly face, plus his characteristic overreactions are a bonus. (7/10)

5. “She’s in my kitchen” face: We have the iconic anime “anger mark” here, but what really elevates this silly face are Kazuki’s hands clenched like he wants to strangle someone. (7/10)

4. Hamster Cheeks: This face is very silly in a cute way, especially with how Kazuki insists that his steak is better with his mouth stuffed. (8/10)

3. Red with Rage: This face is so silly, Kazuki doesn’t know what to do with himself! Like in number 5, the claw hands are a bonus, but the selling point here is definitely that Kazuki’s face is so close to the color of his hoodie. (9/10)

2. “Betrayed by my husband”: Kazuki looking inches from murder as Rei is simply unbothered is absolutely perfect. Kazuki is so enraged that his pupils have disappeared and we once again have that anger mark. This face deserves to be the runner up of Kazuki’s silliest faces this episode! (10/10)

1. “It tastes better when we all eat together”: This has got to be Kazuki’s silliest face! I mean, what’s sillier than your own hypocrisy about forming attachments coming to bite you in the ass? This face deserves the award for the silliest face and this man deserves the award for the silliest man. (0/10)

#meepmoop #buddy daddies #kazuki kurusu #rei suwa #kazurei #miri unasaka #yeah i know im evil #i do this in my fics too #see yall tomorrow with analysis featuring the 60 screenshots i took #i have so many thoughts about this episode #but i cleared out like half my tissue box and lost a contact from how much i was crying

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bacchanal-if · 7 months

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Playing as a naive hopeless romantic MC in a love square with all the red flags is going to be so chaotic. Can't wait to see my MC spiral down a rabbit hole👀🤭

( I also can't wait to see who has the most red flags hehe😳)

😂 sweet summer child. I love playing innocent hopelessly romantic dopes

Unfortunately, you can only romance two red flags at a time (E, plus Butterfly or The Uninvited Guest), but you can bet the MC is in for it.

#author speaks #main character #ro: butterfly #ro: ???#ro: edith #ro: edward

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morallyinept · 3 months

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Shoot: Flaunt Magazine, March 2023, Issue 185

Photographer: Christopher Schoonover

Interviewer: A.E. Hunt

Grooming: Courtney Ullrich

Full interview, behind the scenes, outtakes & shoot photographs below. 👇🏻

Jett's Pedro's Shoots Masterlist

• Cover shot and original images used in the magazine.

• Outtakes and behind the scenes images.

• BTS Video

• Full Interview

PEDRO PASCAL - THAT THUNDER BOLTING SOFT POWER? IT'S NICE

When he wants it to, Pedro Pascal's face can flood the screen with backstory and emotion in little time. In his decade plus working as a 'job-y' actor prior to his breakthrough as Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones, he made indelible impressions in bit roles on network television: such as Eddie, the handsome college freshman who is emphatically introduced as a potential love interest in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, just before he is suddenly killed off; or as Dio, a sassy goth who interrogates the police more than they interrogate him in NYPD Blue; and as Ed Indelicato, a trim police inspector, in the unaired pilot of Wonder Woman (2011, predating both Warner Bros. Discovery's decision to kill the finished Batgirl and Pascal's batty turn as Maxwell Lord in Wonder Woman 1984), and so on.

In few words, slicked back hair, and a parted pencil mustache, the actor's under four minute performance in Barry Jenkins' If Beale Street Could Talk as Pietro Alvarez, manages to flow between standoffish to disinterested, out of his depth to flirtatious, annoyed to defeated to reluctantly sympathetic. In the director's commentary track, Jenkins observes, "I love that Pedro's leaning way back, there's this idea of 'Soft Power.'" He doesn't need to be up in her face, he doesn't need to raise his voice, yet she needs to appeal to him."

'Soft Power,' aptly describes Pascal's buff-teddy bear duality on and off-screen. The actor also leans far back into his seat as Oberyn Martell on GOT, his shins folded against the table, as an unwanted guest of prim House Lannister. Prince Oberyn moves swiftly, his body is simultaneously soft and taut. He loves indiscriminately of gender and quantity, and can reliably be found in the nearest brothel with or without his 'paramour,' Ellaria Sand (Indira Varma).

It's with this bright and magnetic bisexuality that Pascal caught the eye of mainstream audiences and never let go. In a battle to the death with the 7 ft tall (and seemingly 5 ft wide) 'Mountain,' Oberyn prances around the stage with his long spear to the amusement of himself and the audience, before his head explodes under the weight of his opponent's canister-sized fingers bearing down on the back of his skull through his eyeballs. As with many of his supporting roles and guest appearances, Pascal so fully fills out his space and time on the screen that it's hard to imagine him leaving; when he does, it can be shocking and we miss him.

Then playing the lead character of Mando, a bounty hunter, in Star Wars' The Mandalorian gave him overdue screen permanence, albeit beneath a helmet the character has sworn a creed not to remove. Come Season 3, Pascal's invitingly chiseled, action-figure mug may more liberally come up for air motivated by the character's relationship to his clan's code of honor. And with his new role in HBO's The Last of Us, he is finally a lead laid bare for the audience. He plays Joel, the tough and gruff mumbling protagonist of the beloved video game franchise the show is based on.

Trauma has tensed his character, and made him unusually adept at surviving a zombie apocalypse where cordyceps puppeteer human bodies to spread. Here, Pascal's face is always visible, if always seemingly slicked in a tasteful layer of dirt, and is uncharacteristically uninviting. But events beyond his control put a young girl, Ellie (Bella Ramsey), in his charge, whose silliness in spite of the always dire situation cracks his hard facade, letting out a glimmer of the old Joel, whose looser face more resembles the actor's own.

Although he is too humble to say so himself, Pascal carries a lot of the series' weight on his character's shoulders, and in his face, a bottomless bag of expressions and storytelling magic tricks. When complimented on his performance, and asked about the acting language he brings to the series, he refuses to highlight his own work, and defers to complimenting that of the show's creators Craig Mazin and Neil Druckmann (creator of The Last of Us video games), and his co-star Bella Ramsey.

Fortunately, there is much else to talk about with Pascal, including his family's move to and from Chile, and his many moves around the United States. But perhaps most importantly, he talks about his beloved dog Greta, 'a hottie' with whom he shared the early days of his career in New York.

Beginning the conversation, though, is talk about his fathers' a follower of the Movement of the Revolutionary Left against Chile's then Dictator Augusto Pinochet. His parents fled with the family to Denmark, where they had political asylum, and then to the US. His father is a fertility doctor, and his mother, from whom he eventually inherited his surname, Pascal, was a psychologist.

The actor has called many places home. And at least for the length of the interview, he resides in California.

It sounds like you're in California.

How does California sound?

It sounds warmer than New York? Where do I start?

Where do you start? Where does it all begin?

I wanted to begin by asking a question about dads. My dad watches a lot of your films and shows. You're attached to a lot of passionate fan bases, and I feel like there's a big-

A big daddy issue?

I feel like dads comprise a significant part of your fan base. What has your engagement with dads been like?

It's funny to think about: from being a kind of aspirational working actor for many years to then being a working actor for many years but without any large-scale exposure until Game of Thrones' they weren't specific at all about what that character should sound like, and I remember thinking, 'He should sound like my dad.' Not that my dad goes around with a swashbuckling accent, but I do remember immediately anchoring myself to a sound because I knew Oberyn Martell couldn't have a natural, Orange County, California accent, you know?

I don't even know what my fucking natural accent is. I spent 20 years in New York, and if I'm back there I start to sound like everyone around me in Brooklyn. So I guess it all starts with dad. I guess it begins with dad quite literally.

My dad's family and my family also moved around a lot. You mentioned before that you moved from Texas to Orange County at around 13 or 14 years old. Suddenly you didn't fit in, you felt lonely, and you leaned into movies. I reacted by trying to blend in and performing to the new crowd. I wonder if you developed a...

A need for attention?

That, or if you think moving so many times had any significant effect on how you performed for people in your day-to-day?

As you know from moving around a lot, what you learn to do is adapt. I would say that my older sister, who did all the moving with me, was smarter at that. She really knew how to adapt to her environment and I was different, I would call more attention to myself because I had that kind of need for attention, frankly. That would work for and against me depending on the circumstance, but it couldn't stop me. Look at what it's done to me.

If only I knew then, I would have shut up and gone to medical school! I wasn't smart enough to go to medical school. This fantasy about what if I would have been a doctor is such bullshit.

I'm older now, and I think it's a matter of coming to discover all the influences that different places have had on you and what it means to have moved around so much and not identify any one place as home other than basically where you are when you're there. New York is where I lived longer than I've lived anywhere in my life, but I didn't get there until I was 18 years old. Chile has always been a huge part of my identity, inside of the house I grew up in, and because my parents were fortunate enough to get out [of Chile] when they did, and also fortunate enough to get on a list of pardoned exiles by the time I was eight years old.

So we were able to reunite with our families, we have very big families on both sides. We would continue to go back my whole life. My younger siblings ended up growing up in Chile because my family moved back there when I was like 19 years old, which is part of the reason I ended up in New York for so long. I'm sure I would have crawled back on my hands and knees to Orange County at some point if the option had existed.

But Chile's home. Texas can feel like home because my entire childhood was there. Orange County just feels like trauma. [laughs] Not actually. I actually had a great time in High School. I went to high school in Los Alamitos and I loved it there. That's a long-winded answer to a question you didn't really ask. Anyways, are you in Brooklyn?

Bushwick.

I guessed it! I moved out to Red Hook in March 2002.

Was the giant IKEA already there?

The IKEA hadn't gotten there yet. It was imminent, imminent, imminent. And I was pretty north of the IKEA. I was just off of Union Street so I would take the F train to Caroll Street, step onto Smith, make a left on Union and walk literally straight to the river, cross over to the BQE, and then get to the river where Union St. ended and [there I lived] in this literally lonely building with two empty lots on both sides and an abandoned playground behind it, and the river in front of it. This four-story, weird little, it looked like something out of a grim little fairy tale, some kind of urban storybook or something.

It was right around when things just started to suggest gentrification. A block away somebody I became very close to actually, Helen and Selena Couloufacos, had opened a gourmet food store [Helen's Fabulous Cheesecake] where they had these famous cheesecakes, and they'd feed them to me when I was too broke to feed myself. Me and my dog actually. That's all to say that there was this radius of energy that was so amazing and comforting in a pretty rough time, right after 9/11, and me really struggling to keep my head above water in New York and get after it and everything. Now, I think I heard from an old neighbor that the building just sold, so who knows what they're going to put there.

When you had nothing else you and your dog ate cheesecake.

Gourmet.

It's bold to have a dog in New York.

It was rough. I felt so bad for her. She was the love of my life actually. People in the neighborhood would help me out and walk her when I was doing a double shift, brunch and dinner in Times Square, which was quite a schlep from Red Hook.

Was Red Hook as hard to get to and out of?

It was an easy taxi ride, but I didn't always have money for a cab. You get on the Brooklyn Bridge, jump right on the BQE and the BQE dumps me out right where I was. It was fast in a cab. And if it was a weekend, as you know, they reroute those fuckin' trains man! You get out of work at like midnight, 1 AM, and you should be able to get home in 30 minutes and it takes like 3 hours to get home. Those were brutal nights that I remember.

Talking about performing for others reminded me of that Marlon Brando interview with Dick Cavett, where Brando is analyzing in real-time the ways Cavett is himself acting, saying acting is not an art but just something everyone does in their day-to-day.

My observation with that interview: I feel like Brando is being confrontational because people ask him so many questions about acting. But then again, he's positioning himself to be asked those questions, and it's such an interesting conflict that is incredibly demonstrated there. There's so much mystery to [acting] and yet at the same time, it's completely pragmatic.

Acting can be as completely procedural as getting an A on an essay in a High School English class or learning how to play an instrument practice makes perfect! But the achievement of the magical thing, or the constant sense of dissatisfaction that drives you to keep pushing yourself. It's all of those things. He's the north star of acting for so many of us, and you can kind of see that being that good, and that famous, takes its toll.

Has fame taken any toll on you?

I think in a practical way [fame] really isn't normal. That's the conflicted relationship that like a child has to seeking attention. When they get the attention, it doesn't feel natural. But it's very exciting. I guess I'm always kind of in denial about it. Like you ask that question and I'm like, 'What are you asking me that question for?' and you're like, 'You're famous!' I'd be like, 'You're wrong.'

I think you are famous.

You're wrong! It hasn't taken its toll at all [groans in exaggerated pain].

Before we get too far away from her, what was your New York dog's name and what breed was she?

Her name was Greta. She was like a Pit mixed with an American Staffordshire Terrier. She was the most attractive fucking dog. She was like a seal with floppy ears, and this kind of, it wasn't black and white, but espresso, almost purple brown [coat] with a white river that separated her temple, a snow-white neck and a pig pink belly, these white socks, and this little white tip at the tip of her tail. she was such a hottie. She was the coolest dog, man.

Do you have any dogs now?

I got a dog out of shelter many years ago and found him a home. I considered keeping him and then realized he was not into having to move around so much. Then I found him the perfect place. I've always had this weird worry that while I do love dogs generally, I'll never get over Greta. No other dog will live up to her! I'm setting them up for failure!

I could keep asking about Greta, but time is limited and I should probably ask about your latest roles.

Oh, right! We should probably talk about The Last of Us.

What was it like to study a video game performance in The Last of Us, which is the combination of so many different elements?

I was more excited about discovering the world and how fun it would be if I had the fucking skill to play the game. It's funny to get into the details of it. I didn't have time to get good at it, to see how it unfolded, which is why I depended on my nephew, who was so good at it. He would play it to get me further and toward the story points. I wanted to understand the emotional tone of the world, not necessarily just the character of Joel, to kind of put those puzzle pieces together and see how much it could activate my brain to deal with what was so available on the page.

Craig Mazin's a brilliant screenwriter. I feel like he knows the medium better than most. So much of the work is already done. I was frankly just curious about the game and in that curiosity discovered Troy Baker's incredible authorship of the character that I needed to put together for myself. I feel like I couldn't have done it without what he had already done. Like it was a character in a book. How a writer describes the internal monologue of what a character ís going through is sort of how detailed the motion capture performance is. It was a great guide.

Any specific things that carry over?

It was amazing that Craig and Neil were so confident in handing [the role] over [to me]. When I think back on it, they're nuts! Where are you getting your faith? It was a little strange. If anything, I was always being reminded to bring more of myself to it. But specifically, there was a physical presence that I thought was very very important and that could be completely lost on audiences watching the show, but it was definitely essential to me to anchor myself into the skin of the character that I drew directly from Troy's performance and the visuals of the game.

It's just like putting information into your brain and not necessarily knowing how to organize it, but just absorbing it and hoping it's going to help you. Believe what you're doing and be believed. You don't necessarily know if it's going to work. It was just the totality of it that I wanted to take in, and have that consciously in some instances and unconsciously in others inform what I was doing.

I think you bring something unique to the character that was not there in the video game Joel. There's a complex resentment that can be read in so many of your gestures and expressions.

Trauma and grief are such layered and textured things and so much of it is a mystery to us the way it shapes us. That's really well drawn with the character simply by circumstance: how the game starts and the story starts and it's something that Craig really leaned into in the adaptation. He saw these golden nuggets of emotional trauma. He knew how to nourish it on the page.

As wonderfully executed as it is when you read what Craig writes on the page, it is almost like reading a book and the internal thoughts and emotional tone of the character and emotional movement of the episode are so written out for you that it really does get all the work done, to be honest.

You're very humble.

No, I'm serious I'll send you one they'll have to publish one of the scripts so that people can understand how much of a river of language, which you usually do not get from television or movie scripts, come through the technical aspects of interior, exterior, cut to this, cut to that, etc...

But I also think there's a rich language to how you specifically are reacting to things, the way you very slowly and reluctantly open up to Ellie as an actor.

It's so clear what's going on, you know? There is incredible story structure that starts with the game, and the adaptation takes every opportunity to flesh stuff out. There might not be a bunch of Molotov cocktails being thrown or a hundred different ways of killing infected and choking people out, but the story points and the opportunity for it to be expanded on is what they're doing. Essentially the relationship between this man and this young girl, who reflects his own violence, his world-weariness, and his own kind of basically cynical worldview back at him.

But her cynical worldview hasn't shattered her hope and fascination with the world that she's discovering. So I think ultimately to see a shred of hope and to kind of activate what in his heart he thought was long dead, that died twenty years ago with his daughter, and his failure to save his daughter, is reignited by the character of Ellie. That is a very simple format, but the simplicity of it allows for so much layering in terms of finding hope again and being unwilling to lose that hope again at any cost.

The moment when Joel realizes Ellie has also committed violence that is something intimate that they share is a sort of breakthrough and point of connection for them.

What connects them is a beautiful but also scary thing. In this relationship, what Craig and Neil are doing is basically showing how the relationship between parents and children isn't a two-dimensional thing or there's not one moral compass around it. It's fascinating to share the richness of that kind of relationship with the world of the apocalypse, horror, and action, a very genre-related franchise.

Queerness was a part of the video game series, but Mazin and Druckmann have foregrounded it in the show. In the former, Joel doesn't really engage with Ellie's queerness. I'm not sure if you can answer this without spoilers, but does he engage with it in the show?

In Joel's heart, he's an aspiring musician. As tough as he may come across, and although his skills may be in construction and killing, he wishes he was in Crosby, Stills, & Nash. Heartbreakingly he has more of an artist's heart.

As a single father, I think he would completely accept that Sarah was gay and also with Ellie, it simply it isn't even a moment of pause, it's just, 'Oh, I didn't know that. Makes sense. Moving on.' I guess it's a non-issue for Joel, which I find kind of beautiful in that masculine archetype.

That brings me to Pedro Almodóvar's upcoming queer cowboy short film, Strange Way of Life, in which your character is in love with another cowboy played by Ethan Hawke. I imagine this character is a kind of deconstruction of some of the masculine archetypes you've played in the past, including Joel?

Have you seen Almodóvar's films?

Yeah.

He was one of my biggest influences when I got a little older. I remember seeing Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown as a teenager with my family as a kid. He's one of my family's most beloved filmmakers. So it was an opportunity to get to work with one of if not my favorite filmmakers. Anything that he does, whether it's more dramatic, comedic, or thriller, is very personal to him. But in this piece, as in Dolor y Gloria [Pain and Glory], I feel there's a very personal expression that he is asking me to step into.

This is the case even in wearing his colors. I've got this bright green denim jacket and red plaid underneath. I hadn't even realized it until later, when I wrote him and said, 'You're putting your colors on my body.' And he's like, 'Duh.' Stepping into something that is personal to him and achieving that for him, what that means takes care of itself in the telling. Whether it's breaking down tropes that you find in westerns or masculinity, sexuality between men, love. If you're anchoring yourself to a truthful telling of the story you're inherently expressing all of those things honoring them, deconstructing them, questioning them.

Was it easy or difficult for you to act attracted to Ethan Hawke?

Very easy. That's a dumb question! Think about staring into those steel fucking blue eyes. Brown eyes are great! Chocolate chips! But, you know, that steel blue stare of his. Oh god, I don't mean to make Zoolander references while talking about this film.

It seems from past interviews that you saw a lot of R-rated films when you were young. Were there any that disturbed you so much that you had to look away?

It's so hard to look away. I remember the ones that gave me nightmares for sure. I had a real taste for horror and still do. I just think it's a safe thrill-seeking kind of energy, like rollercoasters knowing that nothing real is going to happen to you but you're not convinced of that because of how scared you are.

My parents would fall asleep and I would have already looked up Children of the Corn coming on at like 11 at night on HBO. Turning it on and putting it on mute and hoping I wouldn't get caught and scaring the shit out of myself. I guess I found it thrilling in some cases, and in others, I really regretted it because it really gave me nightmares. But I couldn't help myself.

In your Wired interview, you expressed some guilt about your relatively new success and living 'capitalistically.' In that regard, how do you think someone with your fame and power can live effectively and responsibly?

I don't think there's any one way. I think there's an endless amount of ways that you can make your responsibility, be open to, and discover and make use of or not. I personally believe that, while not religious and not growing up in a church, and not having that influence shape my mind, there is still a moral obligation at the center that drives me to do good.

That doesn't make me an activist. It doesn't make me talented in that regard, as far as figuring out how to make a contribution. But just meaning to [make a contribution], and deciding to when and where, if possible, even in a personal way, even in a small way in the day-to-day, just treat people with respect and protect the underdog.

Jett's Pedro's Shoots Masterlist

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal shoot #pedro pascal magazine #pedro pascal interview #pedro pascal photoshoot #pedro pascal flaunt

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floofkitshune · 4 months

Text

"...too loud Archive"

Pairing: Void Archive/Welt Yang

Tags: Sleeping together, literally. VA being dramatic

————————————————

There are times where there will be an unwanted guest in the Express, specifically in Welt Yang's private space. Why would there be an unwanted guest in his room? One would ask but to be honest the real question would be why is Welt isn't even bothered by it at all.

There is an uninvited guest in the Express, for some reason can only be seen coming out of Welt's room is a mystery. How does this man get into the Express without alerting anyone, especially PomPom. Why does Himeko seem nonchalant about it? And why does Welt doesn't seem even a little bit bothered by the fact that the man that he once accused of having bad feelings about is lounging right next to him? It is weird but then again, mysterious is what the young trailblazers would associate Welt Yang with. Since they don't have much to go by or do they know Welt Yang well enough. And so they let it go. For now.

To think they would be welcome in the comfort zone of the brunette sleeping defenceless beside them. Well they did intrude in his private space but they never saw the man push him away. He even welcomes the blonde in his room with of course ground rules that they will not break (attempt to not break).

To be honest, they sometimes felt a bit odd, seeing how oddly welcoming the man was for them even though they don the appearance for his enemy yet here they were being welcome. Who would have thought the man that was so cautious of them was allowing them to lay right beside him on his bed while he was asleep. Vulnerable. Defenceless. Of course they won't do anything unsavoury. They don't want to ruin whatever trust they had but in this situation, sometimes they like to think they were either extremely lucky (not that they care much for luck) or perhaps their relationship got somewhat better when the blonde decided to bring (read: blackmail) the brunette to go on this little adventure.

After their initial departure from the Express, they didn't expect to be welcome back but here they were. Well, welcome into the brunette's room they meant. Not sure about the whole Express seeing that Himeko seemed to be on high alert when she saw the blonde walking about without the senior member with them. Troublesome plus that woman knows how to push the button and get away with it since Welt would do anything to keep her safe. Which means, he would 100% use his divine key to black hole them out of the Express. Don't want that to happen now do we.

Ok, back to whatever thought they had before. Ah yes, the man beside him. Slumbering right beside him. In arms reach. Softly breathing and sleeping. Ok stop staring. That's just weird. But they can't deny that the man looks extremely…cute. Adorable even in his sleep. He looks as if he had one of the best sleeps in his life and he is enjoying every single bit of it. The blonde couldn't really deny it can they? This man is in their arms reach and they desire him. Ok stop. Really. No unsavoury act. That's what they promise, ok. Good. Go pretend to sleep or something. Ah but he looks cute though…

Who would have thought they would be having a…an…whatever this is actually because they don't know themselves (and if they do they will pretend not to). How troublesome. This is all this man's fault for flooding their head with unneeding thoughts.

…Ever wonder how this man can look so peaceful? Oh well, maybe because he finally got the rest he deserved after a long war back at Earth. Look at those scars on the brunette's body. A proof he had been holding up for that long only because he carries Humanity's reasoning and will. And he still does up till now. He deserves rest. Though, the blonde might miss those shining red eyes filled with honkai energy. Looking straight at them, well at Otto most of the time, with power and confidence. They missed how strong that gaze held but they couldn't complain with how soft the gaze became whenever he talks to them. There might be a little bit of resentment but they fully believe this man would continue to look at them with the same equal footing as he did. They are already being treated the same as any living being by the man, they wouldn't doubt that the man will also look at him in the same light. It's a bit weird how from the start they were treated as a threat as they should be by the brunette but the tone changed so drastically, so sudden that it took them aback when they got trapped in the spaceship. Did the blonde voice his concern? Of course not. But did they tease and mock the man for the sudden change of behaviour? Yes. Though their mocking and teasing didn't phase him, he did somehow manage to ease the blonde's muted concerns.

Haa, they should really get up and do something else. There's no point lying in bed, attempting to sleep when they find sleeping is quite unnecessary. They should go arrange and organise their archive or something. Yeah go do something productive rather than lying on bed next to their crush the brunette.

Right before they could sit up, they were pulled back into the bed. Before they knew it their head was resting on the man's chest, hand stroking their wild hair. Gently combing through it. “...You’re noisy Archive”. The man said softly as he continued to hold them close to his chest and comb through their hair. As if the gear in their head stops working at that very moment. What in the world just happened? Why is their face smoosh against the brunette’s (soft) chest? What in the ever loving world is happening? Is the man half asleep? Does he realise what he is doing? The blonde screams internally while also trying to figure out what the man is doing and how to escape. And without missing a beat, the brunette pulled them closer to his face before leaving a kiss on their forehead. Murmuring about how loud they were and can they be quieter because he is trying to sleep. He let go of their face soon after before resting his head on the blonde’s. As if nothing had happened, he continues to sleep.

Effectively dealing a heavy blow to them. Critical hit in psychic damage on the man. If it wasn’t due to their predicament, they would have a chance to reflect it back but they are stuck. Headlock in place by the sleeping man holding him extremely close. Oh their face is heating up extremely. What do I do now? Running every plan they could think of off their head. There must be a way to escape this dangerous situation. If they don’t, who knows what will happen to them (nothing will happen). Quick, is there a way to move around the man? Fuck, there isn’t a way. They are stuck (They are indeed not stuck. They just don’t want to move). Maybe they could manoeuvre the hand and head placement somewhere else to give them more wiggle room? No, there isn’t a way to do that either without waking the man up (They can in fact just move. He will not wake up). How does one get out of this situation? They have run through all the plans they had but none are proven to work. Darn it! (Void Archive can simply just move but choose not too and making it a big deal and being dramatic).

Perhaps they should simply accept defeat this time. No! They shouldn’t. There is no such enemy that they couldn’t win against. Not against their captor, not any Honkai, not any sky people and certainly not any herrscher. Specifically this one, beside them. Sleeping peacefully. While hugging them close. Hand wrapped in their hair, head resting on top of their’s. They have never given up against any force so why should they admit defeat here?! They will find a way to defeat this herrscher…after they find a way to get up first…

“..too loud Archive”

“Oh sorry! Didn’t mean too, my Welt”

#voidwelt #honkai star rail welt #void archives #welt yang #hsr welt #void archive being dramatic #its ooc #sorry

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sinsisters · 3 months

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I decided that I'd like to start sharing informal, occasional devlogs about various WIPs I'm working on, so feel free to filter out #SSDevlog if you're not interested in seeing them!

Project List

The Spanish Privateer: Done, I do want to send out a short story compilation to backers and maybe write a few more to distribute. Also would like to tweak the keyboard help page so it auto-configures for controllers at some point.

Blueprint to a Villain's Heart: This was a 2023 otome game jam project that unfortunately never got finished due to collaborators getting busy (why must life!!!!).

You're the lead architect for evil lairs (rich conglomerate luxury mansions, eerie castles, underwater shark tanks, floating spiral hideouts, etc.). You sometimes have to make repeat appointments with clients, and they so rarely have normal conversations that they can occasionally get a little clingy…

Mephistopheles' and Baron Samdi's routes are done, about 13K each with a good ending, two bad endings, a best ending (romanced) and a best ending (friendship). The true villain's route and the art need to be done, but I want to share the beautiful concept art...

Mephistopheles' Concept Art

Baron Samdi's Concept Art

Glycon (True Villain)'s Concept Art

Surprise Cthulhu route?

Architect (Protagonist) (Selectable Pronouns) Concept Art

(View some more concept art on Jazzy's page!)

Would love to make this little game a reality, but it's hard to guarantee anything! It would be a free game, so I'm not sure how well crowdfunding would work. And even with money, you can't force people's time or interest.

Nazla: Beds of Thorn: My personal pet project. It's inspired by both classic (Zork) and modern (Shepherds of Haven) styles of Interactive Fiction, implementing classic-style exploration and questing with modern-style dialogue and writing.

You take a rest in an inn, and wake up to an uninvited guest nestled in the soft burrow between your body and your soul. You're left with three options: exorcise the spirit, reopen the veil, or… become a bed and breakfast innkeeper?Play as a human, elf, dwarf, orc, or some combination of the above in Nazla: Beds of Thorn. Featuring fully-customizable names and appearances, seven half-hour long origin stories, eight romanceable characters, and a simple three-class combat system, your journey can be soaked in blood or one-hundred percent fighting free.

It's been really fun to work on a project without worrying about needing to acquire assets. Plus, I plan on it being free, so I'm not concerned whether anyone ever reads it. I won't be doing any out-of-pocket projects for a few years i want to afford house

And I have two other projects stashed away, one of which I'm hoping Nazla helped me learn enough skills to pull off. But in the meantime, I'll be slowly plodding away at Nazla, sharing bits and pieces as I go. ♥

also i played cxm and let's just say... morioka can get it 🥵

#SSDevlog #tsp #btavh #nazla

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ventingfanfics · 1 year

Text

Better Boyfriend (Riri x Reader)

Fluff?

There was a rather aggressive knock on the door. As it continued, you were ready to confront the culprit. Not only were you being interrupted from a task, but this person had the audacity to come to your dorm acting like they were the police.

“Who is it?” You demanded before pulling the door open. The glare on your face faded. You and the uninvited guest stared at each other. Clearing your throat, you spoke. “How can I help you?” Your confrontational tone was replaced with a slightly dull one. But there was nothing boring about the girl standing in front of you—and not just because she’d carried on like she wanted to break your door down.

Your eyes drank in the simple gray T-shirt that clung to her body revealing a sliver of melanated skin that rested just above her jeans. Talk about wearing the outfit and not letting it wear you. Her brown eyes, framed by long lashes, inspected you as well.

“Apologies about the banging,” she said, her assertiveness unwavering. “Is Eden here?” Her eyes left yours for the first time as she looked past you, hoping to get a peek of the man in question. That man was your boyfriend. Unfortunately.

Cocking an eyebrow, you asked her why.

“‘Cause he needs to run me my money.”

Your mouth parted in both shock and realization. Of course money was the reason this young woman had been pounding at your door. You looked at her hands to see if there were any bruises. Then you snapped out of it.

You sighed, folded your arms, and shook your head. “I told that damn boy. I’m so sorry he keeps doing this to you. You should definitely drop him. He’s a terrible client.”

The young lady began to smile. Goodness, she was even more beautiful than you thought. “Trust, this is the last time I will ever do business with him. Are you his girlfriend?”

You looked right at her, tilting your head some. “Unfortunately. Oh, and he’s not here, he’s at the gym—or so he claims. You can come in and we’ll wait ’til he gets back and beat his ass?”

She laughed and you decided you liked the sound.

“Or I can just pay you back the money,” You added, knowing she’d probably very obviously prefer that option. But you were also trying to see something.

“I’m not gonna lie, I do wanna beat his ass,” She said, earning a light giggle from you, that in turn made her do the same. “But I’d rather take his girl instead.” There was not a trace of amusement in her face now. If anything, it looked she’d been activated into savage mode. She smirked at your noticeably breathless expression. “What do you say, beautiful?”

You laughed in awe, licking your lips, and smiling. “I’ll do you one better…What did you say your name was again?”

“Riri. Yours?”

You gave your name and invited her to come inside.

“Hold on a second, I need to do one thing,” You said with a reassuring smile before grabbing your phone. You listened to Eden’s phone ring until he finally answered, sounding out of the breath.

Whether it was from the gym or his “activities” with another girl, you didn’t care. “Yeah, Eden? Can you pay Riri? For fuck’s sake, if you don’t want to pay her for her services, then learn to write a decent fucking paper.”

“I’m zelling it to her now!”

“And the interest.” You turned to the hottie in your living room. “Riri? Let me know if you get the money.”

She was staring at you deeply but nodded nonetheless.

“Are you with her?” Eden sounded pathetically confused.

“You never know,” You answered smugly.

“I got it,” Riri informed you.

“Plus interest?”

“Plus interest.” She showed you her screen.

You nodded once and talked back to Eden. “She got it, but one more thing before I go.”

“Okay?”

“It’s over.”

Riri looked impressed and bemused. “And I thought I was a savage. You got me beat, Y/N!”

“Oh, this has been a long time coming,” You replied, blocking Eden on your phone. “He can’t be decent to people, not even his own girlfriend. Not my problem anymore.”

“I can be a better boyfriend than him anyways.”

You laughed, though your heart fluttered at Riri’s words and how she eyed you when she spoke them.

If there was one thing Eden was good for, it would be him bringing you and her to each other.

#riri williams #riri x reader #riri wiliams x reader #riri x you #riri x y/n #riri imagine #ironheart #riri fanfiction

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adri-2022 · 2 years

Text

Uninvited Guest

Fandom: Chicago PD

Characters: Jay Halstead / Daughter!Reader / Hailey Upton / Will Halstead / CPD / CFD / MED

Warnings: Slight swearing/ mention of depression/ mention of addiction/ mention of abandonment

Word count: 2040

Jay Halstead Materlist

A/N: Hello beautiful people! Here is a request from @hngbrooks . Hope everyone likes it.

Don't be afraid to leave your comment!

---------

Walking across the stage of your high school graduation ceremony you felt blessed. Looking through the crowd for your family and beaming as you made eye contact with your dad. Jay felt proud of you, as proud as he could be, his daughter had accomplished one life goal in a long list of good things to come. Right at his side was your uncle Will and Hailey -your dad’s girlfriend- the other two people who meant the absolute world to you right here sharing this moment with you. As the students reunited with their families you ran to yours tackling your dad in a big embrace which he returned immediately.

“There’s my girl. Let’s get to Molly’s” he whispered the first part to only you and looked at his brother and girlfriend nodding as a sign to leave.

“Wait Molly’s?” you asked confused as Hailey threw her arm around your shoulders guiding you out to the parking lot

“Yep, Trudy and I went all out on your celebration party. Everyone put a little of their own help in it” she said chuckling as she remembered Trudy barking orders at the girls from Med, PD and CFD

“You guys didn’t have too, honestly” you said shyly as you all reach your dad’s truck. Smiling slightly as you heard your uncle scoff from beside you

“Nonsense, you deserve it” Will responded winking at you and kissing your head before you all climbed into the truck pulling off to the familiar bar.

You couldn’t be more grateful because even though life had thrown stones in your way you had finally graduated from high school and one step closer to your life goals. Knowing you owed everything to your dad who hadn’t given a second thought to always saying present to every moment of your life. You were blessed to have not only your immediate family -uncle Will, your dad and his girlfriend Hailey- but you were also part of a bigger family which was your Chicago chosen family.

Here's the thing, a little back story, when your “mother” found out she was pregnant she made it clear from that moment that she wouldn’t be a part of your life. You knew that a couple of weeks after you were born she packed her stuff and left with no trace behind. Your dad had shared the story when you were mature enough to understand both sides of the story and to know that it hadn’t been your fault she left, making sure you knew you weren’t guilty of it.

She had her own struggles with depression and addiction but that’s a story for another time, she wasn’t prepared to be a mother period. Jay tried looking for her but at the end he gave up if she didn’t want to be part of your life then that was on her. You thrived nonetheless, which brought you to the now, all of your family in one place. Each people in their own conversations but nonetheless being in the moment to celebrate you.

“Here’s to my beautiful, smart and not so baby girl. I’m so proud of the young woman you turn out to be. I couldn’t be happier to call you my daughter. To Y/N!” Jay spoke raising his beer at you as the Intelligence table -plus Will- cheered for you.

“Thanks dad” you said as you wrapped your arms around his waist tucking yourself in his chest as he pecked your head.

“Love you baby” whispered as he caressed your back slightly

Because you had turned out better than he initially thought possible. Even if most times he doubted himself as a single father you both managed to make it work and today was prove of all of it.

Everything was going smoothly, you had gone around the bar sharing laughs with some of 51 and med. Until a strange and uninvited guest appeared through Molly’s door, Jay instantly tensed up at the sight of the woman. She must’ve been familiar to the people on the bar because everything went silent and there was an uncomfortable feeling lingering. As she made eye contact with you, she proceeded to get closer making you take a step back -you didn’t know who she was-. Your dad and uncle took a step in front of you, Hailey rushing to your side while you took her hand.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jay harshly said,

“Y/N baby. It’s me, mom” she ignored Jay, talking directly to you.

At the words she spoke your eyes widened looking at the back of your dad’s head. He shook his head, jaw tense and a glare on his face -not believing the audacity of the woman-. How dare she? Come back after 17 years and pretend nothing happened. No one dared say anything but you knew the feelings were all mutual, everyone felt some kind of way towards the woman standing a couple of feet in front of you.

“You lost that privileged a long time ago” Will said, glancing over his shoulder making sure his niece was alright

“Sarah, I think you should leave” Kelly spoke trying to de-escalate the situation. There were too many emotions running high and he wanted to protect you from it all, as everyone else.

“C’mon Y/N. The least you can do is help me! I’m ready to be your mom.” she said almost hatefully, making you flinch slightly

“Hey, cut it out-” Jay yelled said before being interrupted by you

“Seriously!” you said tears in your eyes that you refused to let free as you looked at Sarah, a relieved look crossed her face -she really thinks I’ll pretend too- you thought

“Honey-” she said trying to reach for you being met with Jay pushing her hand away

“Don’t even think about it” he said warningly, towering over her shaking his head

“I’m her mother, besides I just need a couple of dollars” she said scoffing, which broke your heart along with the shaky breath that left your lips.

She wasn’t here for you, she just needed money. It made you sadder at the thought of looking at the woman who gave birth to you standing here and not feeling anything familiar towards her. She was a stranger, a stranger with a biological tittle that at the end of this night didn’t mean anything at all.

“No. It’s too late. Are you serious right now?” you exclaimed a pissed look on your face mixed sadness

“Get over it Y/N, I wasn’t ready” she said rolling her eyes

“And you think dad was!? Do you think he was ready to be a dad and a mom for me! Do you think I was ready to grow up without a mom. Huh?”

“Y/N, I’m here now, am I not?” she answered nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders

“You don’t get to abandon your daughter and then show up 17 years later pretending it didn’t happen! Are you kidding me Sarah” the situation was turning into a screaming match and everyone knew it wouldn’t end well.

“I’m your mother!” she yelled pointing at you stepping towards you

“Hey! Don’t yell at my daughter” Jay shouted on top of her screams putting his hand in front of you to prevent her from coming any closer. Sarah was about to say something to Jay when you interrupted her

“No! You are selfish! Not everyone that gives birth is a mother you’re living prove of it! She is my mother, she is my mother too and her, and her. Every woman in this place is my mother! I don’t need you to come and try to fix things and pretend we’re family…can you please leave!” you exclaimed as tears rolled down your cheeks

“You!” she pointed angrily at Jay and then looked at Hailey with hatred in her eyes. She saw how you held hands with her and she felt replaced, not that it mattered.

“You made my daughter cry. You better leave now!” Jay pointed towards the door before starting to go back towards you

Now standing next to you his arm around your shoulders running his hand up and down your arm as you rested your head on his shoulder. The others tried to slightly guide Sarah out of the bar, but of course she didn’t want to leave without making a scene.

“You think you’re special. What are you, my replacement!” she screamed at Hailey, as Will and Kelly tried to guide her out of the bar. This made the detective leave her spot from beside you stepping towards Sarah, now toe to toe with the woman. The force of Hailey’s glare made her recoil slightly, Hailey was intimidating when she wanted to be.

“There was nothing to replace. Leave. Now” Hailey said in a tone so cold it made shivers go down your spine.

“I’ll kick her ass if she doesn’t leave chuckles” Trudy said unamused as she stood next to Hailey arms crossed matching her usual cold tone and stoic face

“You won’t be doing it alone, Platt!” Leslie said from the bar, making Gabby and Kim nod in agreement

“Damn right!” Maggie commented from one of the other tables agreeing with her friends

If Sarah wanted to make a big deal, they were ready turn it into a big deal. You had practically the whole city at your corner and they would have your back no matter what. Because while the man were “politely” trying to get Sarah out the woman were ready to jump the woman.

With one last look towards your figure tucked at your dad’s side she scoffed turning around and leaving.

“And…the witch is gone!” Adam yelled, making everyone chuckle slightly, including you.

“I think you meant the bitch!” Leslie muttered but since the bar was so silent her comment was heard by everyone in the bar.

Gabby elbowed Shay giving her a ‘are you serious’ look and gesturing towards you. Because after all she was still the woman who gave birth to you and the last thing they wanted was to offend you or make you feel worse.

“Shit. I’m sorry Y/N, she’s not a bitch” she shook her head raising her hands in surrender as you gave her a small smile.

“Nah I think she is a bitch” you agreed,

“Hey. Swear jar miss” Jay said looking down amusedly at you while everyone tried not to laugh, slowly returning to their own conversations.

Jay guided you to the table and sat next to you thinking how Sarah had ruined the night for you, he wished he could change things like this, but sometimes they were inevitable. Hailey sat on the other side taking your hand and giving it a slight squeeze to which you smiled before letting go.

“Damn sarge. I wanted to see you throw hands” Kevin said to Trudy as she passed next to the intelligence table ruffling your hair teasingly and winking before walking back to Mouch.

“Even I was ready to throw hands and I don’t even know the woman” Vanessa said raising her hand, while you laughed.

As the table started talking between themselves Jay glanced at you caressing your head at the contact you too glanced at him.

“You okay, hon?” he asked low enough to just be heard by the both of you. You smiled nodding

“So that’s Sarah, huh” you sighed, Jay following suit

“I’m sorry” he turned his eyes away sadly before meeting your eyes again

“Don’t be dad. Now that I met her…I’m really glad she didn’t raised me. I wouldn’t change my life for anything dad. You are the main reason I am, who I turned out to be today” you said resting your head on his shoulder as he sighed. Resting his head on top of yours and closing his eyes trying to hold the tears,

“And you are my greatest accomplishment. From this point on I’ll just be prouder of you than I already I’m” a smile on his face, that you matched. As your head still rested on your dad’s shoulder your eyes casted around the bar, looking at the faces and all the people that had made your life as blessed as you could’ve wished.

#jay halstead x reader #chicago pd imagines #jay halstead #jay halstead fluff #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #fan fiction #one chicago fic #jay halstead angst #jay halstead x daughter

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