#Why is pascal so damn hard to use?

[andy-15-07]

hii i read always about pedro pascal characters being grumpy towards reader and then feeling bad about it and comforting her so i just wanted to ask maybe reader being grumpy about something and being angry towards pedro himself or any of his characters and they are like confused and hurt, did they do something and then reader comforting them and shushing them that everything is okey and that they did nothing wrong, like babying them🩷🩷

Shushing the Storm

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 3247 | Requests are open! (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The wind howled outside the ramshackle shelter you’d taken refuge in, its mournful song echoing the turmoil that churned inside you. The remnants of a once-bustling world lay in ruins beyond the makeshift walls—a constant reminder of loss and struggle. Inside, however, the conflict was of another kind. It was raw, messy, and incredibly personal.

You sat at a battered wooden table, arms crossed tightly over your chest, staring daggers at Joel as he meticulously cleaned his old revolver. His normally stoic face was shadowed with an expression that seemed a blend of regret and confusion. The silence between you had stretched thin over the past few days, each passing moment weighted by words left unsaid and wounds unhealed.

“Joel,” you finally said, your voice low and edged with frustration. “Why do you always have to be so damn grumpy? I’m tired of it.”

He paused, the clink of metal against metal echoing in the quiet. Slowly, he set the gun aside and turned to you, his eyes searching yours for an answer he didn’t quite have. “I—I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered, his tone soft and uncertain, as if he were afraid any misstep might shatter something fragile between you.

“Don’t lie to me,” you snapped, the anger bubbling over. “Every time something’s off, you shut me out. You snap, you grumble, and you leave me hanging without an explanation. It’s like I’m not even here.” Your words were harsh, each syllable laced with the pent-up hurt of countless moments when you felt invisible, unwanted.

Joel’s brow furrowed, and he stepped back as if physically recoiling from the weight of your disappointment. “I—I'm sorry,” he murmured, but his apology sounded more like a reflex than genuine remorse. His voice was low, almost drowned out by the rain that began tapping against the metal roof of the shelter.

The tension in the room grew palpable. You could see the conflict in his eyes—his hardened exterior cracking just enough to reveal a vulnerable, confused man beneath. “Sorry isn’t enough, Joel,” you said sharply. “I need to know that you’re really here with me, that you care enough to try to fix this.”

He shifted his weight uneasily, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I do care,” he replied, his voice barely audible. “I just... sometimes, I can’t help it. I’ve been through hell, and sometimes, I carry that with me, even when I don’t want to.”

You softened slightly at his confession, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “That may be true, but I’m not your enemy,” you whispered, the bitterness in your tone giving way to genuine concern. “I’m here, Joel. I’m right here. And when you push me away, it hurts.”

Joel’s eyes dropped to the floor, shame mingling with a hurt he couldn’t quite hide. “I didn’t realize... I—I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was sparing you from my baggage,” he confessed, his words a murmur of regret.

You leaned forward, your expression softening further as you reached out a tentative hand towards him. “You’re not a burden,” you said, your voice gentle yet insistent. “You never have been. I know things are hard, and I know you’re scared sometimes. But I want to help, Joel. I want us to face this together.”

For a long, heart-stopping moment, silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the rhythm of the rain. Joel looked up at you then, eyes glistening with unshed tears and confusion. “I’m scared too,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “I’m scared of letting you in, scared that if I do, you’ll see how broken I am.”

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at your lips. “Maybe,” you said softly, “but I’d rather see that brokenness and help put it back together than never know the real you at all.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours for any sign of mockery or disdain, but finding only sincerity and compassion. “I don’t deserve your kindness,” he whispered, his tone laden with self-doubt.

“Shh, Joel,” you murmured, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You do. And I’m not going anywhere.” The simple words carried the weight of your promise—a promise to be there even when things were messy, even when the storm inside him threatened to spill over.

Later that evening, as the storm outside began to wane, you found Joel sitting alone on the splintered porch of the shelter, staring blankly at the rain-soaked horizon. The world might have been falling apart, but you couldn’t bear to leave him alone with his demons any longer.

You approached quietly, settling down beside him on the creaking wooden steps. “Hey,” you said softly, nudging his shoulder with your hand. “Talk to me.”

Joel didn’t immediately respond, his eyes fixed on the distant, darkened skyline. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” he said, his voice thick with remorse. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You turned to face him, studying the lines of exhaustion and regret that marred his face. “Joel, it’s okay,” you reassured him, placing a comforting hand over his. “I know you’re hurting, and sometimes you don’t know how to handle it. But I need you to understand that when you shut me out, it leaves me feeling alone too.”

He looked at you, the hurt in his eyes deepening. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he murmured. “I thought I was protecting you, keeping you safe from my pain.”

“You’re protecting yourself, Joel,” you replied firmly, though your tone was gentle. “And I get that. But you have to let me in too. You’re not alone in this fight. I’m here, and I want to be part of your healing.”

There was a pause, during which the only sound was the soft murmur of the evening breeze and the distant echo of dripping water. Joel swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to your intertwined hands. “I’m just so tired,” he confessed, almost inaudibly. “Tired of pretending, tired of feeling like I’m always on the edge. Sometimes, I just... I just don’t know how to stop the storm inside.”

You squeezed his hand gently, your eyes filled with compassion. “Then let me help calm that storm,” you whispered, your voice laced with tenderness. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Joel. It’s okay to let your guard down. I’m here to remind you that you’re not broken beyond repair.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that was more sorrow than humor. “You make it sound so simple,” he remarked, his tone bittersweet.

“It isn’t simple,” you admitted, shifting closer so that your shoulders touched. “But sometimes, even when things seem impossible, a little kindness can go a long way. I’m not trying to fix you, Joel—I’m just here to remind you that you’re loved, flaws and all.”

His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he looked at you, a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability etched in every line of his face. “I—thank you,” he managed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “For not giving up on me.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Never,” you promised, your voice gentle yet firm. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

The following morning, the shelter was filled with a tentative warmth. The storm had passed, leaving behind a calm that was reflected in the clear, pale light of dawn. Over a modest breakfast of canned beans and stale bread, the atmosphere was markedly lighter than it had been in the preceding days.

“Joel,” you began hesitantly, “can we talk about what happened? I don’t want us to just sweep it under the rug.”

He looked up from his cup of weak coffee, eyes filled with a cautious hope. “Of course,” he replied. “I know I’ve been... distant. I’m sorry for how I acted. I—” He paused, searching for the right words, “I’ve been carrying a lot of guilt about my past, and it sometimes makes me push you away. I don’t want to do that. I’m trying, I really am.”

You reached out, placing your hand over his, offering silent reassurance. “I appreciate that,” you said softly. “But I also need you to understand how it affects me. When you get grumpy or distant, it makes me feel like maybe I’m not enough. Like maybe you’d rather be alone than deal with my needs.”

His face fell, and for a moment, you saw the raw sting of his insecurities. “That’s not true,” he insisted, his voice shaking slightly. “You’re more than enough—if anything, you’re the reason I keep fighting. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You offered him a small, forgiving smile. “I know you don’t. And I’m not angry with you, Joel. I’m angry because I know you’re hurting, and because I care about you so much. I just wish you’d let me in more often.”

A long silence passed as he absorbed your words. Finally, he said, “Maybe I’ve been too afraid of being vulnerable. I’ve spent so long thinking that if I showed any weakness, it would all come crashing down. But… maybe it’s time I learned that it’s okay to lean on someone else.”

Your eyes shone with relief and tenderness. “It is okay,” you assured him. “Sometimes, being vulnerable is the bravest thing you can do. And I’ll be here to help carry the weight when it gets too much.”

Joel’s fingers curled around yours in a tentative grasp, as if testing the strength of the connection between you. “Promise me,” he said, his voice earnest, “that you’ll be patient with me. That even on my worst days, you won’t give up on me.”

“I promise,” you replied without hesitation. “I’m here for the long haul. Even when things get rough, I’ll always be here to shush the storm inside you and remind you that you’re safe.”

He gave a small, grateful laugh. “You really do have a way of making things seem less terrible,” he admitted, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.

“Maybe it’s because I know that sometimes, the roughest storms hide the most beautiful rainbows,” you said, your tone light but sincere. “And I believe in you, Joel—even when you can’t believe in yourself.”

As the days turned into weeks, the delicate dance between anger, hurt, and healing continued. There were still moments when Joel’s grumpiness would flare up—when memories of his past would surge forth like unwelcome ghosts—but each time, you found yourself ready to meet him with understanding instead of frustration.

One chilly evening, after a particularly difficult day scavenging for supplies in the ruins of an abandoned town, you returned to the shelter to find Joel slumped in a corner, his face obscured by shadow. The weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air. You approached slowly, not wanting to startle him, but determined to offer the comfort he so desperately needed.

“Joel?” you asked gently, crouching beside him. “Talk to me, please.”

He looked up, eyes rimmed with tears and haunted by exhaustion. “I’m sorry,” he began, his voice cracking under the strain of emotions. “I know I’ve been a mess lately. I... I feel like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to come up for air.”

You scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you spoke softly, “It’s alright. You don’t have to apologize for feeling like this. It’s okay to be scared, and it’s okay to cry.”

He leaned into your embrace, the rawness of his pain palpable. “I feel so weak, so broken,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I keep pushing everyone away because I think it’s easier than facing how much I need them.”

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You’re not weak, Joel. You’re hurting, and that’s human. It’s okay to let yourself feel it. I promise, you don’t have to carry this all by yourself.” Your words, soft and earnest, were meant to be a soothing balm to his wounded spirit.

He sniffled, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “I’m scared that if I let you in completely, you’ll see just how damaged I am and… maybe you won’t want to stick around.”

“Joel,” you said firmly, “I’m not going anywhere. Every scar, every mistake—it all makes you who you are. And I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world because it led me to you.” You paused, your tone shifting to a tender, almost playful lilt as you added, “Besides, you’re kind of adorable when you’re trying to be all tough and mysterious. It’s like I get to be the one who gets to shush you and remind you that you’re safe.”

A hesitant smile tugged at his lips, the hint of humor breaking through the gloom. “Adorable, huh?” he teased softly, though the vulnerability in his eyes remained.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your tone light but filled with warmth. “Just promise me you’ll try to let me in a little more, okay? Even if it’s just a little bit at a time.”

“I promise,” he murmured, leaning into your embrace once more. “I’ll try. For you.”

In the weeks that followed, the shifts were subtle but profound. There were mornings when you’d catch him watching you with a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, as if he was silently apologizing for all the times he’d been distant. And on days when old habits threatened to resurface, you’d gently remind him with a tender smile, “It’s okay, Joel. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He’d chuckle, a soft, self-deprecating sound. “I guess I do need reminding sometimes,” he’d say, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and gratitude.

One particularly quiet afternoon, as you both sat by a small fire outside the shelter, you found him staring into the flames, lost in thought. The dancing light painted shifting patterns on his weathered face. You settled beside him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder.

“Do you ever wonder if we’ll ever get past all this?” he asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

You sighed, thoughtful. “Every day,” you admitted. “But I also believe that every storm eventually passes. And until then, we have each other. We have these moments��small, quiet moments—that remind us that even in the worst of times, there’s still hope.”

He turned to look at you, eyes softening. “You make it sound so simple,” he said, half in awe, half in disbelief.

“It isn’t simple,” you replied gently. “But sometimes, the simplest things are the most profound. Like a soft word when you’re angry, a gentle touch when you’re hurting, or a quiet reminder that you’re never truly alone.”

Joel’s gaze drifted back to the flames, and for a moment, the silence between you was comfortable—a shared understanding without the need for constant words. Then, almost shyly, he asked, “Do you really think I’m worth all this? With my baggage and my broken pieces?”

You turned to him, your eyes steady and full of certainty. “I don’t just think it, Joel—I know it. You’re worth every bit of struggle, every tear, every moment of pain, because you’re you. And I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

He reached out and pulled you closer, as if trying to hold onto that assurance with all his might. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for not giving up on me, even when I make it hard.”

“Never,” you promised, smoothing your hand over his hair. “I’ll always be here to shush the storm inside you, to remind you that it’s okay to be vulnerable, and that you’re loved—no matter what.”

As the fire dwindled to glowing embers, you both sat in companionable silence, the trials of the past few days melting away in the warmth of your mutual understanding. In that quiet moment, beneath a sky slowly clearing of its dark clouds, you knew that despite the scars and the struggles, there was something undeniably beautiful about the way you and Joel were learning to navigate the chaos—together.

Time moved on, as it inevitably does, carrying with it both hardship and healing. There were days when Joel’s grumpiness would creep back in, a stubborn remnant of the pain he’d carried for so long. And on those days, you’d catch him off guard with a teasing remark or a playful nudge, lightening the mood with a reminder that even the toughest exterior could be softened by a gentle touch.

One afternoon, after a long day of foraging near the outskirts of a crumbling city, you found Joel standing by the old, rusted gate of what once might have been a grand estate. The wind tousled his hair as he gazed out at the horizon, lost in his own thoughts. You approached quietly, a small smile on your lips.

“Hey, Mr. Tough Guy,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “Remember our little promise?”

He turned slightly, a wry smile forming on his lips despite the lingering shadows in his eyes. “And what promise might that be?” he teased, though there was a softness to his tone that hadn’t been there before.

“The promise that no matter how rough things get, you’ll let me in just a little more each day,” you replied, your voice playful yet sincere.

Joel’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he pulled you into a gentle hug. “I think I can manage that,” he said, the warmth of his acceptance resonating in his tone. “Especially if you keep reminding me that it’s okay to be a little... weak sometimes.”

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, I get to be the one who shushes all that unnecessary grumpiness with a smile.”

He shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him as he held you close. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you admitted with a grin. “But I wouldn’t trade our little chaos for the world.”

In that moment, as the sun dipped low and bathed the ruined city in a golden glow, you both understood that life was a series of storms and quiet moments—a tapestry woven with threads of pain, hope, and the enduring power of compassion. And as long as you had each other to lean on, there was no storm too fierce, no wound too deep, and no darkness that couldn’t be softened by the light of understanding.

So here’s to the grumpy days, the moments of anger and hurt, and to the gentle shushing that followed—each a testament to the messy, beautiful journey of healing together. And as you and Joel continued to navigate the uncertain path ahead, you knew that every soft word, every tender touch, and every moment of vulnerability was a step towards mending not just the scars of the past, but the promise of a better tomorrow.

“I love you,” Joel murmured one evening as you both settled down to rest after a particularly hard day, his voice raw but sincere.

You smiled, your heart full. “I know. And I love you too—grumpiness, storms, and all.”

In that moment, as the last embers of the day faded into night, everything felt exactly as it should: imperfect, challenging, but undeniably real—and infinitely worth it.

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 4

chapter 3 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 5

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.

a/n: hiya! i already mentioned all of this in my snippet post, but i'll do so again. in this chapter we are going down some dark path. probably not wise considering how shit has been going down as of late in the pedro pascal fandom. i have tried to write this chapter as sensibly as i could given the circumstances reader is in. i know this is a sensitive topic so please, PLEASE, read the warnings before you go ahead. i promise i'll make it up to you guys in the next chapter. other than that, i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! i love engaging with you guys. take care of yourselves <3

warnings: MDNI, 18+. please proceed with caution. if any of the following warnings trigger you, skip this chapter. DARK THEME. r4pe threats (it doesn’t happen, but still). death threats. mention of voyeurism. unsolicited dirty talk. slapping. reader is humiliated. derogatory terms (bitch, whore). swear words. masturbation (m to himself). body shaming (well deserved though). blood. violence. gore bc joel loses his shit. murder (but it’s okay because i say so). soft!caring!joel. pet name (dove). reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n.  joel's and reader's pov.

w/c: ~2.3k.

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

Joel groaned, face down on the ground. His head hurt like hell, to the point where he could not even open his eyes. A drilling pain on the back of his skull pierced through the whole way to the space between his eyebrows. He squeezed his eyes, in an attempt to clear his sight, before opening them. The whole world spun around him like a merry-go-round ― he felt like throwing up.

He motioned his hand backwards to where the searing pain was coming from, only to find a new source of aching ― his right shoulder felt like it was dislocated, but the reality was that he had been shot.

I have been shot, he repeated in his mind.

Why though? He couldn’t remember what had happened nor where he was.

“Joel! What the fuck is going on?!”, Tommy’s voice forced him to close his eyes again. He kneeled beside Joel, putting pressure on his shoulder. “Where is she?”

Where is who? he wanted to reply.

And then it hit him. You both gave in to your passion, and he ruined it by labelling it “a mistake”. And then hell broke loose ― his last memory was your screams before you were dragged away.

Consciousness flooded back into him. Joel sat up quickly ― too quickly as his head pulsed in excruciating pain.

“Easy, Joel”, said the younger Miller, removing his hand to inspect the wound and tying a piece of clothing around the shoulder to contain the bleeding. “The bullet has gone through cleanly. You’re going to need to take care of that wound but should heal just fine”.

“They’ve taken her, Tommy”, Joel managed to mutter.

Doom washed over him. He felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought of what your destiny might be. He should have paid attention; he should have known you both were being watched. But at that moment in time he was thinking with his cock, not with his brain. He put you in harm’s way. He knew he shouldn’t have exposed you like that. He would not have done it had he known someone was spying on you both.

His last words to you basically meant that you were a mistake he regretted. His heart contracted so hard at the realisation of what he had said, his lungs evacuated all air within them. Where those going to really be his last words to you?

Joel gulped down the knot in his throat. He truly was a damned man. Everyone he touched, died. His deceased wife, Sarah, now potentially you too.

Death might be her best way out, that intrusive thought scared the shit out of him. He shook his head at the idea, in denial.

“Who have?”, Tommy asked. Joel could hear fear in his brother’s voice, mirroring his own.

Joel stood up with the help of Tommy and touched the back of his skull, finding the sore spot. It was wet ― blood covered the palm of his hand, which he cleaned on his jeans.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. If something happens to her, I swear to fucking God, Tommy, I will―”.

Tommy nodded in understanding and handed Joel the rifle and his jacket.

You were finding very hard to come back to consciousness. Your thoughts were a tangled mess, not being able to connect them in a way that made sense. You felt like you had been sleeping for ages, but it had only been five minutes. Your heart was beating slowly on your chest, your breaths shallow.

You heard two male voices nearby. For a second, you thought they were Joel and Tommy. But even in your semi-conscious state, you knew it wasn’t them. You managed to open one eye, looking around. Memories started to crawl back ― you and Joel fucking like the world was ending, him being a prick once again, then the gunshot, Joel falling to the ground, two men approaching and taking you away. Your heart began to race.

Was he alive? He had to be. He couldn’t have died. You would know, you would feel it in your guts. You felt like your chest was being crushed. No, he can’t be.

“God, I am gonna come”, you spotted the first man you saw, the one who shot Joel, jerking off besides you.

Had you been fully conscious, you would have retched when he cleaned the cum off his hand on your T-shirt.

“She was fucking that guy like a whore, she won’t mind if we use her for a bit”, said the second man. “I bet her cunt is still fucking wet. But we should wait for the others to get here first”.

You were slowly coming back to your senses, starting to understand the gravity of your situation. By the way they talked, it was pretty clear what their plans for you were. The prospect of being raped awakened your fight-or-flight instinct, your brain racing with thoughts, trying to come up with an escape plan. Either you fled, or you died trying.

You were sat up, your back against a tree, your hands loosely tied up in front of you. You rubbed one hand against the other, the right one slowly coming off the knot.

“I want to fuck her mouth so bad ― I don’t think that lucky bastard did”, you were not sure who said it, but you didn’t care.

“With such a small dick, I bet you I still would have plenty of room in my mouth to be able to talk unbothered”, you couldn’t stop the snarky remark.

The first man didn’t take your comment very graciously, probably ashamed of such a small dick. He slapped you with such force, the ring on his finger slashed the skin on your right cheek. You fell to the ground on your belly, your hands becoming free in the process, which you hid under your body so that monkey of a man wouldn’t notice.

“We’ll see how much you laugh after we’re finished with you and leave your broken body somewhere for your boyfriend to see”, he threatened with a laugh, touching himself again. "Open up, bitch".

He grabbed you by your hair, forcing you to face him, his ridiculously tiny dick too close to your mouth. You pulled away from him with all your might, releasing yourself from his grasp.

Although you put on a mask and pretended this was not affecting you, you were so fucking frightened. Your survival instinct kicked in again when the same ape tried to snatch you by the T-shirt as you slithered away, partially ripping it. You turned around quickly and scratched his face ― your nails sinking in his skin as deep as you could. You thought you hit his eye ― and you wished him blind. You growled like a cornered animal when the second man approached you, while the first one was on his knees wailing like a newborn baby.

“So you’re a fighter, huh?”, he chuckled.

When he got close, you knocked him off his feet by swinging one of your legs sideways under him. That was your chance ― and you took it. You got up and started running, the second man shouting blasphemies while going after you.

You had only run like five yards when a gunshot echoed in the middle of the night. You ducked and tripped, falling to the ground.

You looked back and saw that guy face down on the dirt, not moving. The back of his head was blown to pieces, half of it had disintegrated into thin air. Blood and brain bits had started to soak the leaves under him.

Then you saw Joel a few feet back, rifle on hand, Tommy just a few metres behind him.

You sighed with relief.

Joel had one look at the state of you and wished he hadn’t shot that man. He should have suffered a more terrible death. He felt anger ―no, fury― burning up his insides. Joel was seeing red, not being able to tame his feelings back under control. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins with solace ―you were alive― but also with rage.

“Man, we’re sorry, I’m sorry, it’s not what it looks like, I had nothing to do with this”, begged the man who had shot him ten minutes earlier.

Joel slowly turned around to face him. The asshole was on his knees, his left eye bleeding profusely, trousers pulled down and his micropenis dangling out of his underwear. With his eyes fixated on the poor excuse of a man praying on the ground, Joel handed the rifle to Tommy and unsheathed the folding hunting knife he kept in his boot.

“No, please, I promise you I didn’t touch her, I would never―”, his pleading fell on deaf ears.

“You fucking liar”, Joel said under his breath, positioning himself behind the kneeled man.

Joel grabbed him by his hair, pulling his head backwards to expose his neck. He could see tears on the edges of his eyes. He was young, probably around twenty, but Joel didn’t give a fuck. He deserved to die. Joel unfolded the hunting knife by removing the safeguard, placed it under his chin and slit his throat slowly but steadily. The man gagged, desperately trying to fill his lungs with oxygen ― his hands had flown to his neck in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but blood was pouring out like a fountain.

Joel looked at him dead in the eye until the man’s arms fell to his sides. When he was sure that motherfucker was dead, he let go of the head, the body making a thudding sound when it hit the floor.

Only then he dared to look in your direction. He wasn’t ready to see you down on your knees, dry tears on your cheeks. You looked like a baby deer in the middle of the road at night, blinded by the headlights. One side of your T-shirt was ripped from top to bottom, one of your breasts showing. You were not moving, your big eyes widened in shock.

Joel did not want to imagine what had happened to you, but he saw semen on your T-shirt and his brain started wandering off to the darkest of places. He was frozen in place for a few seconds before finally approaching you slowly, afraid you were going to step back away from him. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. He put away the knife before kneeling in front of you ― his hands, palms down, up in the air.

“Are you…?”, he didn’t finish the question because it was obvious you were not okay.

“It’s okay”, you answered immediately.

Joel gave you a puzzled look.

“No, it’s not fucking okay”, he whispered.

Then reality dawned on you. Your body had been on high alert this whole time, your instincts forcing you to put your feelings away so you could focus on the task at hand ― escaping as unscathed as possible. It wasn’t until those men were dead and Joel faced you, that you allowed emotions to take over you.

Your eyes welled up, your entire body shaking as the adrenaline abandoned your system.

“I… I don’t… It’s just…”, you couldn’t form coherent sentences.

Joel closed the distance between you two and hugged you. You buried your face in his chest and sobbed silently for minutes on end. His left hand stroked your hair as he held you and whispered calming words in your ear. When your eyes dried up, you looked up at him through damp eyelashes and he swept away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, the rest of his fingers gently placed on your jawline.

“Your cheek”, Joel’s lips wrinkled as he hovered his thumb over the wound.

You could tell he was trying to control himself, but as the seconds went on, he got calmer.

“Can I?”, he muttered, looking down to your teared T-shirt.

You nodded and he helped you take it off. Joel blocked Tommy’s vision with his broad body while he removed his jacket and helped you put it on, discarding your dirty T-shirt to one side.

“They didn’t…”, you tried to explain, your bottom lip trembling.

“We don’t need to talk about it now, only when you’re ready ― if you’re ever ready”, he spoke softly.

You greatly appreciated he didn’t push you for an explanation of what had happened. You were not sure you could talk about it without breaking down again. You breathed in deeply and nodded again. Then you noticed the blood on his shoulder. You raised one hand, softly touching the improvised dressing.

“You’re hurt, Joel”, you mumbled.

“It’s nothing, it’s not even painful. Let’s go back to the cave. You need to rest and I need to clean that wound on your cheek before it gets infected”, said Joel while helping you up.

You saw Tommy in the distance ― he had been kind enough to give you some privacy. Joel guided you through the trees, his left arm firmly wrapped around your waist to aid you in your walking.

You didn’t get too far though, not even with his help. Your legs were so wobbly you were afraid you couldn’t stand any longer. Joel saw you struggling and with no hesitation whatsoever, he picked you up in his arms to carry you to the cave.

"You're gonna hurt your shoulder even more, Joel", you complained.

"Nonsense", he whispered, softly kissing your forehead.

You did not protest after that again and hugged his neck, your face hiding in the curve of his neck.

In his arms, you felt safe. Your haven on this twisted, revolting earth.

“One of the men said they were waiting on more people to arrive”, you remembered suddenly.

Joel briefly looked down at you. You could tell he was controlling his face expression.

“Don’t worry about it, dove. I’ll take care of each one of them”.

That was a promise he kept religiously.

[sailingfireshipz]

Ok so this is my discourse in response to @stellariders post a while back. Linked at the end.

1. Kelly should have been captain 3-4 seasons ago and I'm tired of them using the excuses of paperwork or being behind a desk because I've seen Van Meter behind a desk & talking about about how backed up they are on cases which is PAPERWORK. When he is in the field, it's after all the "action" that they speak so highly of has already taken place & it's more so like solving a puzzle rather than running into a fire. Atp I'd respect it more if they said Kelly can't be captain because he can't be Stella's commanding officer at the same house.

2. I'm sorry. I love Hermann however I'm struggling with seeing how the hell I'm supposed to take him seriously as captain on a scene or call when they've NEVER shown him in that light. The last time I saw him really fired up regarding a call was the factory fire. Also they haven't shown an ounce of Hermann actually preparing or studying for the exam. So we're supposed to believe that the same Hermann that failed the LT exam how many times passes the captain test on the first try? OK...

3. Mouch doing more has at least been foreshadowed now for a while. The episode in which he saved that kid & Casey talked about the retirement age going up. Also, Mouch has at least been acknowledged by the CFD with a commendation back in S9 & helped out with Paramedicine. We've seen his journey & arc build a little bit more than Hermann, so even if it wasn't for a potential Stella pregnancy on the horizon, I could still rationalize Mouch wanting to do more. We've never seen that same arc for Hermann, so it makes it hard for me to get behind it.

4. The disparity in storytelling amongst the cast is starting to become problematic for me. Stella & Ritter are the main two that stand out to me in this moment, but I'm sure there are more examples. Ritter has been on this show in some capacity since season 7... there is absolutely no reason why he has been treated like a background player all this time & is just now starting to get an inch of more screen time when Carver has had MULTIPLE arcs of the course of his FIRST season & now this one. Hell Novak is in her first season as a series regular & we already know a little bit about her past & what makes her tick. Not even about to start in on Stella because yall already know how I feel about it however what I will say is Stella Kidd deserves more than 1 GOF episode a season & 1 episode where she's fighting for the underdog. All of her other stories are directly or indirectly associated with Kelly/Stellaride/ white men, causing her unnecessary grief.... Casey never had this many damn personnel issues in the 10 years he was on T81. I'll leave it at that.

5. I'd love for Squad 3 to get some new blood. Not saying I want anyone to go anywhere, but I'd love to see Kelly Severide have to navigate teaching & training someone new. Add another man or woman to the crew & let's really see how Kelly's leadership comes through.

Same for Engine 51... like i find it interesting that they gave Ritter up to Truck yet won't commit to Kylie joining Engine full-time. Like outside of Hermann, who the hell else do we now know on engine? No one..

6. I'm confused by how close Kelly & Pascal have gotten in such a short amount of time. Historically, Kelly has always been very reserved when it comes to change, especially change in power dynamics. I also find it interesting that they continue to isolate him for the other members that he's worked alongside for much longer yet have planted this Pascal & Severide relationship dynamic. We've been asking for Kelly & Violet since S11... hell the Kelly & Mouch episode we got in S11 was adorable. I'd take him, Ritter & Carver, yet we're getting him & Pascal who clearly has an issue with Stella, his wife. Feels intentional

7. If they are committed to not actually giving Stella an appropriate backstory, then they should at least commit to strengthening her bonds in the house. They did that really well in earlier seasons, like mentioned about her relationship with Enily Foster. Same can be said with Casey, Otis, Gallo, Boden & Kylie but none of those people outside of Kylie are on the show anymore. Felt like when Stellaride got married, they were like alright no more family dynamics with anyone else except for Kelly & thats so not fair to her character. She mentioned it to Boden that her real family is the house. OK, so let her actually build out more relationships with the people that are there now.

8. I know I'm a vocal Newman critic, but I also like to think I give credit where credit is due. I made a few posts ranting & raving about how S12 for what it was (short, needed to be executed quickly) was a REALLY good season. It's why I was so excited for S13, but we're 8 episodes in & i fear we've lost the plot. Like, i go into these episodes with such high hopes because the meat is THERE yet walk away from some of them wondering wtf was that. Like, I'm almost wondering if S12 was so good for her because it was shorter, so there wasn't much room for filler because it honestly fills like she doesn't know what to do with 22 episodes. Grant it, we have an entire back half of the season to go, so I could be speaking too soon. However, I don't know what to even anticipate for the rest of S13.. like i have concepts & my own personal wants, but I don't have actual faith that it'll come to life because everything she's teased thus far has been so far from expectations.

Damon had so much more potential. As a firefighter, brother, & brother in law. That baby convo could have touched on so much more of Stella's fear & what the actual cause of that dread she spoke about could be coming from. Violet could have actually apologized to Carver & explained her grief/ why that caused her to ice him out. Even if they didn't make up right away, it would have set the groundwork for what they'd work towards if they're actually endgame(sometimes i don't know). Ritter getting blown out of a window could have been dug into a little deeper. Even the blood program that Novak proposed a call linking to why it is so important would have just driven the messaging home.

I saw a tweet a while back that basically said it's not character or plot development if it happens off screen & we never see it. It feels as if recently a lot is playing in the background or off the pages that we're somehow supposed to know is going on without ever seeing or hearing it. I love this show, this cast & think if shows like the Law & Order franchise or Grey's can be on air for decades, then so can Fire. I really hope the back half of S13 kicks it into high gear & starts connecting dots for me because I want to get renewed for 3-5 more seasons! I'm simply not ready to let them go, especially when there's so much left in the tank they just need to have the right pieces in the right places to execute effectively. 😫

As always, thanks for coming to my rant session. Let me know your thoughts & opinions below. I'm always up for a healthy debate or yap session. Check out @stellariders original post here.

[canmom]

NieR Automata anime episode 7-8

Continuing commentary from [part 1], [part 2-3], [part 4-5] and [part 6].

So much to catch up on so I'll keep commentary pretty sparse this time!

Episode 7: [Q]uestionable Actions

Episode 7 serves to introduce A2 in the present...

It does this by using the premise of one of the more memorable sidequests in the game, where one of the Machine Lifeforms in Pascal's village asks you to save her little sister. In the game, this is an escort quest in the desert area, in which there is an extended conversation with the little sister android. Here, it's sending us to the Forest Kingdom early - no meeting with Emil, Engels attacking the city, or encounter with the alien ship just yet.

In the Forest Kingdom, we get a very compressed version of the kingdom's backstory and founding by Ernst, and the creation of the little robot baby Immanuel who's supposed to inherit it (these names aren't given in the anime, and only barely mentioned in the game)...

...but most of the forest machines have been massacred by A2. The machine interactions are played mostly for humour here, with the Little Sister declaring that she wants to start a family with one of the forest guards, and Pascal jumping on the concept enthusiastically.

We also have 9S finally warm to Pascal a bit through the old narrative expedient of 'sudden accident that lets the character save your life'...

A shot that raises all kinds of architectural questions we probably shouldn't get into. It's kinda clumsy but there's a lot of game to compress into a short time, so it makes sense to cut 9S gradually warming to Pascal.

Anyway, the star of the show is of course A2, who enters in her inimitable baby-stabbing way:

After an all-too-brief fight with 2B, A2 jumps out the window - something maybe a little more motivated because her Type-4O Sword breaks so she can't really stay and fight. This mostly serves to introduce the conflict with command to 2B and 9S, and motivate 9S to start digging around for dirty secrets.

One thing that isn't really addressed in either the game or this anime is that, according to the concert audio dramas, the androids sent after A2 previously were... 2B and 9S, and A2 got pretty damn good at beating them. Perhaps this explains why she doesn't bother to say many words to them here.

Other than that, we also get Adam and Eve discussing Sartre:

Much as in the game, Eve doesn't have much interest in Adam's books and philosophy, and Adam treats him condescendingly like a child. I mention this shot mostly because I think it's the first time the "existence precedes essence" quote actually appears in the story, for all its engagement with existentialist philosophy.

The final post-credits bit sees puppet A2 killing puppet Pascal...

...just before he can tell us about the dragons in the Kingdom of Night! Grah! They'll keep teasing us with this forever it seems like...

Episode 8: aji wo [K]utta?

If episode 7 took us to the Forest Kingdom zone, this one is focused on the Flooded City area. They clearly referenced the game pretty closely for the backgrounds - I could recognise specific locations, such as the ramp with a bus leading in to the zone.

Picking up pretty directly where episode 7 ended, 2B and 9S are sent on the trail of A2. 9S is getting pretty suspicious of Command already, and when 2B chides him to stay on mission, he goes behind her back. But not before they can hang out a bit at the seaside!

If there's one thing I can respect this adaptation for, it's that it understands the importance of quiet character moments. Fully half this episode is spent just on 2B getting persuaded to stand in water and this is entirely a correct adaptational decision.

Also a 6O lesbian moment:

The pair are looking for Jackass for a lead on A2, after Lily refuses to tell them anything. 9S gets them to split up so he can do some snooping. So 2B is the one to find Jackass, who gets to have the kind of moment that would have been hard to do in the game...

...hanging out in a swimsuit with scarf and combat boots, fishing with grenades, and offering 2B the deadly, delicious mackerel.

All these cute moments lead into a gradual turn towards horror as 9S is cut off from 2B. In the game, I recall this happens after the fight with Grün, which is almost entirely cut in this adaptation - the most we see is a silhouette that looks kind of like the defeated Grün on the skyline early on:

A reasonable thing to cut; Grün in the game is a cool boss fight but not very important to the story (a bit of a jarring nonsequitur really).

Anyway, after taking advantage of 21O to spy on command, 9S gets to hear the Commander talking to the Council of Humanity. They mention, rather cryptically, something called 'Contact Plan B' - which I don't remember being an element in the game and could be the first seeds of a story divergence.

Someone - it's Adam of course - sets up a comms jammer and 9S finds his way into a room full of fanart of him and 2B. I wonder if they put out a call for fanart, or even just scraped it from the internet, because the styles and skill levels are pretty damn varied:

Would definitely be curious if anyone has tracked down sources of any of these pictures.

9S gradually transfers into hacking space, indicated in this anime by black letterboxing bars, as the environment gets more surreal. Whoops! He's been nabbed by Adam. In the game, he pretty much just wakes up in hacking space after the battle with Grün so this is a cool variation.

Thanks to the final arc of NieR Reincarnation, we now know that all the variations of NieR are 'explained', in a sense, by an obscenely complicated time loop premise involving the records of humanity and the AIs assigned to look after them. So, is the game canon or this anime? Yes. The real question is whether the variation from the game is going to be limited to this kind of minor story reshuffling, or if they'll make bigger divergences in season 2. I wouldn't put anything past Yoko Taro, but I've got a lot of catching up to do before I find out...

The ending skit for episode 8 is just a letter from (game producer) Yosuke Saito followed by the mackerel bit, thus explaining the episode title: アジを食った aji o kutta, which can be translated as 'I ate a mackerel' but is also a pun on 'I experienced a flavour'. (It's mostly known in English as the name of the ending of NieR Automata where you eat a mackerel and immediately die).

Feels good to be back on this anime! More to come soon hopefully!

[elliespuns]

I think many of us know that some fans wanted Kaitlyn Dever as Ellie, but why? I feel like she doesn’t resemble Ellie at all, and I’m talking about the fact that when fans have their perfect cast, they uusually -not always- want the actor to resemble the character in question, but I still don’t understand.

So, I’m asking if you had an actress in mind as Ellie, and I’d also like to know who you would have liked to consider as Joel.

In my personal opinion, Hugh Jackman in ��Prisoners’ felt like a Joel codified, and I’m still not over it.

This is such a great question! And to be honest, I never really thought about Joel because who they gave us—Pedro Pascal—was the best fucking choice there could be. I'm not exaggerating; I love him for this role, he was born to play Miller. I can't imagine anyone else playing him.

Although now when you're mentioning Hugh Jackman in 'Prisoners', I mean damn, I never tried to imagine it, but now I can see it. I think he would be a perfect choice if it weren't for Pedrito.

When it comes to Ellie, I've always had Kathryn Prescott in mind. She's not at all famous, though. I can imagine none of you know who I am talking about. Well, does 'Skins' (the British TV show) say anything to you? Kat Prescott portrayed one of the Fitch twins in this series. Later, she was cast in 'Finding Carter' which was a small TV show airing on MTV back in 2014 (I kind of have a personal bond to this time), and that was when I started admiring this girl's personality. 

I think Kathryn Prescott would be perfect for Ellie because, although she's in her 30s today, she's the type of girl who still looks half her age younger when put in the role requiring it. Not only that; the actress herself is such a sweet human being. I've always liked her personality, and I dare to say she's always been Ashley Johnson's kind of sweet. That's why I think she would be the perfect Ellie (not even speaking of her appearance), but when I think about it, her appearance is closer to Ellie than Bella Ramsey's, for example, so this wouldn't probably be a problem.

They would never cast Kat Prescott because she's not that well known, and I'm not even sure if she's this level of actress. She's been on smaller projects, so I have no idea if she could pull out something as big as TLOU. She was also on 'A Dog's Journey' not a long time ago, but yet, people still don't know her by name, and I think it's such a shame.

It's hard to search for photos that would depict it, but I think that without make up and dressed as a tomboy with a messy ponytail, she'd be a good Ellie. She's also short, which would be a plus for her role.

[3pirouette]

So, just a stupid little update…

I’m on tumblr now, what, once every two or so weeks? I think it’s an improvement over the last few months.

My next wrist surgery is on Wednesday. After that, I’ll be 100% organic again. Sadly, my MD doesn’t think they’ll let me keep the plate once they take it out.

My Steggy secret Santa is finally coming along nicely. With the extension I think I’ll even get it in on time. The tough truth is, I don’t really think in terms of Steggy anymore, the ideas just don’t pop up and live in my head like they used to. Maybe that’s why this secret Santa’s been so hard to get out, I’ve told the majority of the stories I want to about them. Dunno.

This tends to happen with me when I’m satisfied with how the canon of the story goes. When my ‘ship ends up together, it’s less satisfying to write the what-ifs.

I’ve never really questioned my fic writing impetus before. I usually just go with what inspires me and makes me happy.

…which, apparently, is this Last of Us JoelxReader fic I have going. It’s now officially the second longest fic I’ve ever written (it’s currently 99k, longer than Nobody’s Baby by 2k and shorter than Innocence and Beauty by 24k) and while I’ve managed to get most of the main plot out (yes, the end is somehow written…don’t ask) I still have a lot of the softer plot and interesting moments and yes, sexy times, to write still.

I also haven’t decided if I’m ever going to publish it. If I do it will be 100% before TLOU season 2 comes out, so I’ve got some time.

Same goes for the MandoxReader fic I’m writing. It’s somewhere in the 65K area, and I haven’t decided when or if I’m finishing and posting it.

Damn you Pedro Pascal and your sexy characters.

Oh well. I think that’s it.

Happy New Year, all!

[spextronaut]

Thoughts on this week’s episode of the Mandalorian:

Watching the recap at the start of the episode and VERY AGGRESSIVE REMINDER that Bo-Katan called Din “brother” when they first met please please god do not make them have a romance 😭

If any of y’all know Doctor Who,,, these starfish things look like fucked up Oods

Imperial Mandalorians???? What the fuck??

Why is there melodrama. Why are these aliens so fucking ugly

Once again that’s just earth when will we get some decent fuckin out of orbit planet designs

GROGU <3333 DIN <33333

begging for the pattern to continue from last season with the helmet removal increases pls let Din take his helmet off today

I love that Din is having his name used more it’s so fun

These walls are so white I am fucking BLIND

JACK BLACK???? JACK MOTHERFUCKING BLACK??? OF MARIO MOVIE FAME?!?!? WHY ARE YOU HERE???

Grogu my fucking beloved

I seriously can’t get over this I love his beard but fr why the fuck is Jack Black here

Grogu loves his pets omfg <33

Not the fucking Jerry Maguire reference I hate him <3

Still can’t get over the fact that Jack Black is canonically in Star Wars

Din once again being prejudiced against droids it’s really stupid lmao

A Kuill reference?? 2 seasons after he died?? Damn

hehehe Clone Wars reference

Din has another concussion that’s fantastic

We’re finally back to this being the Mando show with Bo Katan as a side character and I can’t even begin to tell y’all how happy that makes me

This place looks like it was inspired by Tokyo that’s really cool

Fuckin yEET

oooo the girls are fightinggg

what the fuck how do Droids drink

I love when he gets violent <3

… Droid race allegory?

The droids drink lube that is so fucking dumb

Droid morgue????

DARK SABER DIN!!!!!!! LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO

god he is so,,,, he’s hot I can’t be argued with on that

woww big surprise that the guy that was so obviously evil is evil

was that. was that a Keanu Reeves lookalike

I hate old people

Slay good job Bo Katan <3

BUG!!! BUG BALL!!!

GROGU HE IS SO FUCKING <33333

yay Jack Black is back

they get a key? for all that?

That’s a big fucking key what the hell

Grogu gets a knighthood and he didn’t even do anything I love that for him

THE WAVE 😭😭😭

Din this will be so simple just pull out the fuckin Darksaber

hehehe Bo Katan gets to be a badass that’s fun

Din fr you can stop this so easily just. Darksaber it’s not that hard

At least give him some popcorn if he’s just gonna watch goddamn

… kinky

Din. Beat his ass. Beat his fucking ass you deserve it

Din keep the fucking saber you know how it works

DIN. KEEP. THE. FUCKING. SABER.

Don’t let him give it away I’m gonna get so mad I know he doesn’t want it but HES SO HOT WITH IT THEYRE PLAYING HIS THEME AND EVERYTHING

Fuck this show. Fuck this show. Let him keep the saber. FUCK THIS SHOW I AM SO GODDAMN MAD RN

Can’t believe I was like oh this is the Mando show again bUT NO

HE DIDNT EVEN TAKE THE HELMET OFF I AM SO FUCKINGGG PISSED

Begging this to be a misdirection and the Darksaber will actually reject Bo Katan and force her to give it back to Din and that the last two episodes are good

Im so fucking mad at this episode i hate that fucking ending god fucking dammit Din deserves so much better, Pedro Pascal deserves so much better this is the show that truly got him into the spotlight and his character is being treated like shit and he doesn’t deserve it

I hate this episode but I had fun for the first 3/4 of it so I’m giving it a 6/10 overall it would’ve been much higher if Din didn’t give Bo Katan the fucking Darksaber

The worst part is that him desperately and easily giving away any semblance of power to Bo Katan fits his character it fits his character so well but that’s not how the last two seasons and TBoBF set up his arc and that’s why I’m so mad about it and hope it’s a misdirection

If it’s not a misdirection I honestly can’t say that I’ll come back for s4. I love this show and I love the characters but I would much rather live a life of pretending the fan fictions are canon than watch the show dig itself into a hole it can’t escape and ruin all the characters I love

And I don’t hate Bo Katan I like her and I like that they’re setting up her and Din not getting along very well anymore that’s good but i don’t think the way they’re treating her should be so prevalent considering the other things she’s in, she can have this arc in a different show or hell even her own show it doesn’t have to be in Mando

I’m gonna stick around until the season finishes but if it doesn’t get any better I’m not gonna come back for season 4 unless Tumblr says it’s absolutely amazing or some shit I just can’t take this disappointment anymore

Final comment: good episode when you ignore the ending, the ending was shit. Jack Black was the peak of the episode, but Grogu and Din (especially with the Darksaber!!) were also great and I am very much ignoring the end of the episode it’s not real if I don’t look at it

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

114 of 2025

do you ever do these surveys with your SO?

Nope. He doesn't give a shit about what I do on the internet, and he would be the last one to take survey.

have you ever totally lied or made up ridiculous answers for surveys?

Nope, what's the point? Sometimes I'm pretty sarcastic, but I don't lie in surveys, I don't take them to impress anyone with my answers.

do animal furs upset you?

As in clothing? Pretty much yes. As in general? Well, Susie sheds a lot, and it can be pretty annoying when her hair lands in my food. I know it's not her fault and it's pretty natural to have the hair naturally replaced, but why do cats are so damn curious that they really have to check on everything and sniff everything? XD

who picks the music when you’re riding in the car?

Sometimes I do, sometimes my husband, and when we are in the car with our teenager, he is the one to play his music. I like some of it, but my husband finds it annoying.

do you have a waste basket in your car?

No. We take out the trash straight away.

what’s the Spanish name for your favourite food?

I don't think waterzooi has translations to any other language. It's a Belgian dish and the name is exclusively in Dutch language.

do you know anyone who regularly uses a bike for transportation?

Yeah, Pascal and Christoph. Both are cyclists, but Christoph rides his bike to work 25 kilometres one way, so it makes 50 km every single day. I know he loves it, though.

do you consider audio books not really reading?

It's listening to me, but it's very convenient for blind people who don't use Braille. So in the matter of accessibility, I do consider it reading.

strangest thing you’ve ever put in the trunk of a car?

I'm tempted to say dead bodies, but that joke wouldn't be really funny. I don't think we have ever had anything strange there, unless the bulk of erotic lingerie counts. XD We run a small shop and that's where this lingerie comes from.

do you carry matches or a lighter?

A lighter. I don't smoke, but I often use it at work. Yea it's illegal, but as long as the boss is not watching XD

do you keep socks with a hole in them if they are your favorites?

Yeah. I have hard time letting go of things, even such stupid as a pair of socks.

last time you wore clothes that were too small on you.

Maybe when I was 15. I don't know, anything that's exactly my size feels too small for me. I love clothes that are at least one size bigger, preferably two sizes.

have you ever frightened someone on purpose. not as a tease but to seriously?

Nah. I don't scare people on purpose. But accidentally, too many times. Oh wait, sometimes I sneak up and tap people's shoulders. I'm known for that.

have you ever had something taken away from you by airport security?

I've never been on an airport.

what’s the last wild animal you have seen?

Hare.

something you were surprised to learn about your parent’s childhood?

My mum was in orphanage, even though her biological mum, my grandma, was alive and well. Grandma was 17 when she gave birth to my mum and her twin sister who passed away at the age of one, and probably she couldn't handle being a young mother. My great-grandma took my mum from the orphanage to her house and raised her, she won the custody. It's pretty sad and I'm not surprised my mum is pretty messed up at times.

do you store any non food items in the fridge?

No, but my sister stores her nail polish in her fridge. I've heard it extends the usage period.

have you ever told a friend you thought their parent was hot?

Nah. I can't even imagine a situation like that.

what was the last thing you bought from a gumball machine? how long ago was that?

I don't remember, it must have been about 15 years ago. After that time, it's hard to remember the details.

have you ever destroyed another person’s belongings out of anger?

No. I respect other people's belongings.

plain band aids or fun ones?

Plain, typically waterproof.

which pain killer do you use?

Only paracetamol and only when necessary. I always forget to ask my neurologist which painkillers are safe for me.

have you ever used someone else’s Rx med?

My mum gave me some hydroxyzine when I was younger so I could sleep better, and her vitamine A ointment when I had bad rash on my skin.

have you ever borrowed underwear from a friend?

Ew no. Using underwear someone has used before? Gross.

would you like to be part of a wedding party?

Well, I attended a wedding party once.

last pair of shoes you threw out and why?

One of the boots a few years ago, they had broken soles.

have you ever really stayed up all night to do homework?

Yeah, more than once. School is evil, you know.

have you ever had anything stolen from you?

Yup. Nothing serious, but we steal paper tape from one another at work. XD But once I got my WAGO tool stolen from me and that was a tragedy.

if you could make up one rule for all your friends, what would it be?

Tell the truth, always and in every case.

do you pay attention to people’s posture?

No. I don't have a perfect posture either.

do you have a creepy uncle, or have a friend who has one?

No.

alarm clock, or do you use your phone?

I use my phone as an alarm.

have you ever backed into a cactus?

I'm afraid cactus plants don't grow in the wild in my country.

do any of your relatives not have home internet?

As far as I'm aware, all of them have internet at home.

when you get the munchies, do you want sweet or salty?

What are munchies?

something you taught yourself how to do?

Scanning RF signals. But it was Nielsje who taught me everything, as he's a soldier and uses radio communication for his work.

[harmonyckrs]

Act 4, Scene 2 of Twisted Veronaville: The Last Resort

THE LAST PAGE

You might've been wondering what we were doing while all of this was going on.

Well, we were across town, but we all felt it. The intense feeling of dread as Bianca pleaded with Patrizio to just listen to her for once, that she was just as important to the family as the heirs and the ones who bore them.

And Antonio was nodding along, still too afraid to act out against his family in fear of suffering the same fate as Bianca. How could he, after all? It was family who had kept him afloat when Hero died.

And then there was me, watching over him.

Viola: Mercutio?

Mercutio: I don't want to talk right now.

Viola: (He's probably too sad to realize what's going on.)

Viola: I'm sorry about what happened with Tybalt. It must be hard to lose somoene...

Mercutio: And it's all Romeo's fault.

Viola: (Hm. So there's going to be infighting now...maybe I'll try to talk to Romeo instead...)

Romeo: AH! Ghost of Christmas Past!

Viola: No, no. I'm your sister, who transitioned. We switched bodies in the womb.

Romeo: Oh...ha. Didn't recognize you at all, Benvoli-er, what's your name now? Did you change it?

Viola: Yeah, Viola. But enough about me. You need to patch things up with Mercutio.

Romeo: Why?

Viola: Well, he's really depressed, and I think the terrible omen we all keep getting is because of him.

Romeo: Not my problem.

Viola: (Stubborn as always.)

Romeo: Do you wanna play Mario Kart?

Viola: Sure...I'm a bit rusty, though...

Meanwhile, while Antonio was paying his parents a visit and the sitter was staring at the TV, Beatrice and Benedick took the chance to stay past their bedtime to play computer games.

Benedick: It's my turn on the computer!

Beatrice: I'm in the middle of this round! I can't just leave halfway through! I'll lose!

Benedick: You've already been on the computer for two whole hours!

Beatrice: If I lose, it's your-

*CRASH*

Benedick: What was that?

Beatrice: You wanna go outside and look?

???: OW! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO MOVE THE BODY, NOT MAKE SURE HE ACTUALLY DIES!

Benedick: ...Let's not.

Meanwhile, as the sun returned to being visible in the sky, Aktu and Sita had taken some more extreme measures to prevent the death of Mercutio.

Ripp: YOU BROKE INTO THE CAPP FAMILY'S CRYPT AND TOOK HIS BODY?

Aktu: Mercutio can't kill himself over Tybalt's supposedly dead body if he doesn't know where the dead body is.

Sita: Exactly. And we have the clones of Glarn and Kitty Curious guarding him if someone tries to come near.

Ripp: Clones?...is Crystal helping us now?

Sita: Yeah. She said she had too many of them and that they wanted something to do. I'm not entirely sure whose side she's on, but I frankly don't care at this point.

Ripp: Fair. Does Pascal know about this? Since they're his parents and all?

Sita: Probably not. I think he'd be pissed.

Pascal: I'd disagree.

Sita: AH! Dude, give us a warning!

Pascal: You're a psychic. I assumed you would've detected my presence with your mind already.

Sita: Wasn't paying attention.

Pascal: That's on you. And as I was going to say, my parents have always had a thirst for knowledge. Runs in the family. I'm sure they'd be more than happy to have their bodies used in the name of science...even if it is at the hands of that atrociously evil Crystal.

Sita: Your family's weird.

Pascal: I know...oh, and move the body inside. A coffin out in the open is just asking to be opened.

Sita: I'd like to think people here are smarter than that, but yeah. I guess that's a good idea...

Juliette: And apparently, the body just disappeared!

Ripp: Oh, no! Really? What could've happened to it?

Juliette: I don't know! The guards said they didn't even see anything! Those damn Montys probably took the body...I wouldn't be surprised if they were somehow behind this too. This is all Mercutio's fault for seducing Tybalt!

Ripp: (I'm certain Tybalt would've said the same for you when you were dating Romeo). I don't think Mercutio's that kind of lover, Juliette. Maybe it got...misplaced?

Juliette: ...You mentioned you were from a family of ninjas, right?

Ripp: ...Yeah, my aunt and uncle...you're not accusing me of stealing his body, right? I'm not a ninja!

Juliette: Well, you're being weirdly defense of the Montys.

Ripp: It just doesn't-

*SNAP*

Ripp: Ugh. Not this again...

Tank: I know it was you.

Ripp: What proof do you have?

Tank: Two people who snuck past guards...who else can do that besides the two ninjas that you live with? And you all have a motive, because you know Mercutio has to kill himself over Tybalt's body.

Ripp: You're smarter than I thought.

Tank: Why do you keep trying, anyway?

Ripp: Because they're my friends! I know you can't relate to that, but I'd really prefer for them not to die! And I'll do whatever it takes to save them, even if everything seems completely hopeless!

Tank: ...

Tank: ...You're more determined than I remember...

Titania: You GAVE HIM A POTION TO FAKE HIS DEATH!?

Oberon: ...Yeah. So?

Titania: Oberon, what were you thinking? They're all teenagers! They'll probably forget all about it and move on once they go to college. You've just doomed us all!

Oberon: Well, he's not actually dead!

Titania: You know fully well Consort is going to blame the Montys on this. The war's going to get worse! It's just like that failed spell we tried to cast to end the war!

Oberon: Hey, that required two people. And besides, Mercutio was sent a letter explaining everything. I'm sure he won't do anything reckless.

Titania: Fine. But if he does and I'm right about what happens next, we're getting a divorce.

THE NEXT PAGE

[andy-15-07]

can you please writee pedro or any of his characters having a tickle fight with reader fluff fluff 💙

 Tickle Fight

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word Count: 645 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The air in Javier's apartment was warm, thick with the scent of old leather and cigarette smoke, the soft hum of a fan cutting through the silence. It was late, and the two of you had spent the night tangled on the couch, watching some old Western that neither of you were really paying attention to. His arm was draped lazily over your stomach, his fingers tracing light patterns along the fabric of your shirt.

"You look tired," you murmured, running a hand through his hair. His eyes were half-lidded, and he let out a slow exhale through his nose.

"Long day," he admitted, voice husky with exhaustion. "Murphy wouldn't shut up about some report. Thought my head was gonna explode."

You grinned, shifting slightly beneath him. "Poor baby. Should I write him a strongly worded letter?"

Javier huffed out a chuckle, the corners of his mouth twitching. "That'd scare him more than the cartel."

The weight of the day still clung to him, his usual tension evident in the furrow of his brow, the stiffness in his shoulders. You wanted to help, to pull him out of his head, even if only for a little while.

Your fingers trailed down his side absentmindedly, and you felt the tiniest jolt in his frame. It was barely there, but you caught it. Your lips curled into a slow, mischievous smile.

"Javi," you whispered, testing the waters, your fingers ghosting over his ribs again.

"Don't," he warned, a sudden sharpness in his tone that only made you more determined.

"Don't what?" You feigned innocence, your hand moving with more intent, fingertips dancing lightly over the fabric of his shirt.

Javier twitched, trying to shift away, but you were quicker. Before he could escape, you dug your fingers in, right at his ribs, and he practically jolted off the couch.

"Damn it—Y/N!" he barked, trying to grab your wrists, but you were laughing too hard to stop.

"Oh my God—Javi Peña is ticklish?" you gasped, eyes wide with delight. "This is the best day of my life."

"I am not—" He gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his dignity, but his body betrayed him, another suppressed laugh breaking through as you doubled down on your attack.

"Oh, this is gold. Why didn’t I know this before?" You straddled his waist, using your advantage to keep him pinned as your fingers worked mercilessly along his sides. Javier was struggling now, squirming beneath you as laughter—actual, unrestrained laughter—spilled from his lips.

"Y/N—fuck—stop—" He wheezed between laughs, his hands grabbing your wrists in a desperate attempt to fight back.

"Say you surrender," you taunted, grinning down at him.

"Never," he growled, even as his body betrayed him again, his laugh breaking through his resolve.

You leaned in closer, your nose nearly brushing his. "Then you leave me no choice."

His eyes darkened for a fraction of a second before you resumed your tickling, and in an unexpected twist, he managed to flip you over in one swift motion, trapping your wrists against the cushions.

"You play dirty, cariño," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

"Me?" You huffed, wiggling beneath him. "You were the one hiding this vital information from me."

Javier smirked, releasing one of your hands just so he could trail his fingers down your side in retaliation, and suddenly it was you who was thrashing against the couch.

"Oh, now look who's laughing," he teased, his deep chuckle sending warmth straight through you.

"Javi!" You shrieked, laughing uncontrollably, trying to push him away.

He finally relented, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his arms, his fingers lazily tracing circles along your spine.

"You're lucky I love you," you muttered into his chest, still catching your breath.

His lips curled into a smile against your hair. "I know, cariño. Believe me, I know."

[unhingedhearties]

Damn, I used up all my atomic bomb references.

A few days ago When Calls The Heart actress Erin Krakow posted another Behind The Scenes photo from Season 10, the season that just aired a few months ago. For context, there's a scene where her character Elizabeth gets a box with the wedding dress she ordered (for her wedding that never ended up happening). It turns out to not only be the wrong dress, but very ugly. Elizabeth puts it on and laughs are had. Erin posted a series of photos of her and co-star Pascale Hutton being silly while Erin's still in the ugly dress.

You can all guess what happened next. First, some of the reactions from Twitter:

"If the show had gone the way I wanted it to go, these photos would be fine. But I didn't get what I wanted, so these photos of you two having fun that other people are enjoying are tone-deaf."

You might remember foxyinspiration. They're the person who is constantly insulting Erin on her Instagram about how awful she is and keeps emphasizing that she's a female producer for some reason.

There's nothing I can add that'll make this funnier than it already is. A grown-ass woman of voting age wrote this. Back to the responses on Instagram:

Deidre Behar, the producer/host for Entertainment Tonight comments and Erin responds. Repeat offender and stalker amintmimi takes the opportunity to make an ass of herself and will continue to do so multiple times.

Pascale Hutton also shows up and with her a chance for amintmini to show her ass again. The word "disrespectful" shows up, so take a drink. The senior citizen who spends all her time spamming every post Erin makes looking for evidence of targeted attack against her and other Lucas fans calls her and Pascale "immature teenagers" for this series of photos of them smiling in a field. Her personality is so bitter and miserable that the sight of others being happy causes her to froth from her toothless mouth.

"IT'S MORE THAN A SHOW"

People are finally starting to try and slap some reality into these unhinged Heartie's heads. Amintermimi the Ragepig is aghast at the "rude" responses, clearly believing she's done nothing to warrant it. She, like many other smooth-brained Team Lucas fans keeps mentioning that Team Nathan fans sent him death threats. I've yet to find any. If someone has proof of this, please share it.

"Look, it's cute that you two are having fun, but have you considered my feelings and how all these photos are hurting me? I could unfollow, but what will I do to fill the void of my empty life? Work on being a person that enriches the lives of those around me? No, it's too late for that. I'd rather suck out the happiness of everyone near me."

Best response.

"why do you keep showing this dress"

This is literally the first time she's posted a photo of it.

"Are you trying to leave some kind of clue for season 11?"

OH SHIT THEY FIGURED IT OUT! Get out your decoder rings and put on your 3-D glasses 'cause we're going to bust this thing wide open.

Erin and Pascale are both standing beside each other making the shape of two 1's OR . . . AN 11. LIKE SEASON 11! Erin is standing to Pascale's left. JUST LIKE A BRIDE AT THE ALTER! Pascale can be seen in one of the photos holding Erin's hand like she's proposing. Look at what color she's wearing. RED! You know who else wears red? NATHAN! In the distance we can see the sun setting. This represents the sun setting on Elizabeth and Lucas's relationship as it comes to an end. And what is Erin doing in all these photos as the sun sets? SMILING! She's smiling at the thought of Lucabeth fans spiraling into morbid depression. But the most damning evidence of all?

Enhance.

Mother of God…

There's some sort of giant bench monument in the background. It's hard to make out, but if you invert the colors…

That's clearly Lindsay Sturman and Brian Bird's handwriting. We caught them both dead to rights.

Erin's mocking the wedding. I told you guys the signs are everywhere! Thankfully more people are calling out these dumb reactions, but of course the worn out argument of Lucabeth fans shows up. Team Nathan fans acted the same way and it was reprehensible, but when Team Lucas fans do it it's simultaneously okay, but also they're not doing it because the situation is not the same. Any time a Team Nathan fans points out "now you know how we felt" they do a bunch of back flips to explain how this is a totally different scenario.

RAGEPIG! SooREEEEEEEE!

A compilation of the feral hog's comments and responses. It's just the same words over and over because they have no real argument.

Sweetie, you can give the dictionary definition on the word "invest" until you're blue in your pseudo-intellectual face. The point is no one should be "investing" their lives into a TV show. Go develop a real personality instead of "blob that parks her fat ass on the couch every time the TV turns on."

Oh look! A Lucabeth fan saying that it should have been Nathan and Faith together instead of him and Mei. I'm sure all those Lucabeth fans that are good, socially conscience allies will come in and point out how racist that kind of thinking is.

If by "fans" you just mean your dumb little clique of mentally stunted women-children I could see where you're coming from, but there's actually tons of fans out there who aren't triggered by a photo of two women smiling. Look! You can even see them posting on this very photo! Amazing :D

(And the whole point was that the dress she's wearing wasn't the wedding dress. Try to pay attention to the TV show you're obsessing over).

It's all well and good that the people who work on this show have fun and share it with their fans, but they need to take into consideration that fans that are literally dying of heartbreak. Please be more sensitive about what you post and avoid the photos that can cause irreparable harm.

Which is all of them.

Every photo you post will set them off.

There's literally nothing you could share online that won't make them screech at their monitors.

badcruelunkinduncaringmeaninsensitive.png

You all remember that time Brain Bird and Lindsay Sturman came on TV and Men In Black style took away everyone's memories of Lucas and Elizabeth's special moments? No, me neither. Which is proof that it happened!

But if they go away, who are you going to harass all day instead of spending time with your family (assuming they still want anything to do with you)?

"I can't wait till you have to tell LJ why his father is dead… oh LJ it's because of Nathan the man I love"

I have AMAZING news. LJ is never going to learn how his father died because LJ isn't real, his father isn't dead, the fictional character Nathan didn't kill him, nor did the flesh and blood actor Kevin McGarry and Erin isn't actually his mother. This works out for everyone!

[furryprovocateur]

on what planet did i get that much experience in this chapter? holy smokes.

no really i had to literally double check that experience counter. but it's right. god damn. 1200 experience in this dinky little chapter? it really surprises me because i wasn't expecting to get more than 800 experience, no less 150% of that. i can attribute that entirely to bringing no promoted units + bringing a bunch of benchwarmers to get as much experience as possible to soften the blow, but still.

with that in mind, i brought guy + lyn (the "we're going to fucking massacre the bottom fort" team), eliwood (he killed two pirates. good for him.), serra + priscilla + ninian (obvious), fiora + florina (that eastern fort was surprisingly annoying to deal with because of the purge bishop, but preemptively barrier-ing neutered him), and bartre + kent (probably the most precarious of the three fort duos, but bartre loves getting WTA and has enough HP that the ballistas are a joke and kent. . . well he's sure trying.).

funds took a massive hit here for two reasons: i promoted two units (priscilla and florina) and i recruited farina (you didn't think i was gonna renege on that, did you?). in spite of that, i canceled out the loss of an elysian whip by getting the basically free one in this chapter, so it's only a net loss of 30k and change as opposed to 40k. hurray? i'm almost certainly not promoting fiora at this point because, god bless her, she is great value florina and though they do have a nice C support that probably wouldn't be too hard to get to B or maybe even A, there's really no reason to use 3 fliers. heath and florina will basically turbotroll anything i want them to at this point, and while fiora was helpful at times, i just don't see myself fielding her much beyond the next chapter or two.

oh yeah i need to talk about how the chapter went. uhhh well it went kind obviously. fiora and florina raided the east after getting barrier'd by priscilla (which got her enough experience to promote), and they basically were unkillable at that point. the pirates COULD have been scary, but they weren't because only like one out of four hit. guy and lyn had such a trivial time tackling the pirates + warrior in the south that it's almost not even worth mentioning. there was a swordslayer guy, but he was off taking a piss break like 5 tiles north of where everyone else was, so avoiding his aggro range was also trivial.

the screw turning happened with kent and bartre because they were gonna have to juggle the lion's share of enemies with all those god damn cavs + pascal. pascal is like, not the scariest boss ever, but he does move and killing him is a pretty significant task. i put all my hopes and dreams on bartre landing a crit with the killer axe and, well, he did. that left pascal with like no HP left so kent scored the kill and that was that. speaking of kent, he's not nearly tank-y enough to handle the tsunami of suicide units, even on a forest square (the ballistas that are usually a joke to bartre are a much bigger issue for kent, who isn't dodging them and not tanking them like bartre can). so, after losing an attempt (after NEARLY having him tank everything, uwaaaaaaa), nini's grace patched him up and he was fine. thank god for the buff rings man. i cannot believe i didn't use them much until recently. what was i thinking.

anyways last thing to mention is that i could've finished this chapter a turn early if not waiting for farina. the extra turn is worth the. . . loss in 20k gold (arguably more if you're one of those "20k hard gold is 40k liquid gold" types). recruiting this character i'm likely to only use in like one chapter is important, damn it (read: i'm trying to give myself a sizable disadvantage to compensate for the mkdd advantage + you always gotta recruit everyone you can. you gotta)

biggest thing i'm sitting on rn is who to promote now. i don't want to use either orion's bolts because lol why would i. i'm gonna use a hero crest on bartre (he is unironically a good unit for me at this point + karla isn't gonna recruit herself), a knight crest on kent, and. . . probably a guiding ring on serra? and that might be it. i'm very iffy on that last one but serra's close to 20 and staff experience really is a lifesaver. her promotion gains aren't even that stellar, nor am i even thinking of using light magic (those tomes are expensive), i just really want to stop her healing from being wasted experience, ykwim? but yeah, after that unless i'm really hurting on experience (which i shouldn't be), i doubt i'll be promoting anyone else. only other unit i'd even really want to promote right now is maybe fiora. guy unfortunately was a wrecking ball in early game but now will enjoy the warmth of camp away from all the fighting and danger because he's just not that necessary anymore. i'm also obviously not promoting either lyn or eliwood, but, lol, who does in ranked runs? it's still a shame that their promotion items are a huge funds loss, because it feels weird not using either of them, but oh well.

i might bust out unfulfilled heart today just because it's an easy chapter and there's no tactics constraint to worry about meeting. i still want to finish this run before the year ends, so i do need to start getting back into the habit of playing this game again.

[1nm2]

1, 13, 22, 26

what does your URL mean, and why did you choose it?

the formula for 1 pascal, which is a very simple formula 1(newton / m square). It helps me remember a group of tenish other more complex formulas that I need for one of my other hobbies.

I only felt I had to change it because I was told the other one could make people think I was a troll, and that it was one of the things that was turning followers away.

which is funny-interesting because it would mean people are scared of a bunch of letters

13. have you written original characters?

Many of my canons I’ve taken out and written things that look entirely different from the feel of their canon.

I have some NPCs like Izzy and Maruka Lara in the Aliens universe, and awesome plans for the verse that I doubt I would have the chance to bring to light.

The superhero guy is an oc in the dark knight verse.

Poison Ivy has been taken so far from canon you could consider it your apocalyptic reality in the near future

many other npcs around i would love to develop

22. what have you learned by proxy of roleplaying and rp researching?

I get rejected a lot and maybe it means that I really am not good at writing. I do want to write but what I want from people is not what they want, so there’s a great mismatch. I’m not saying it’s bad. It’s just what it is and just unfortunate I’m on the side where it’s hard for me to find people who want to write with me (to those who are actively writing with me, I appreciate you).

(none on the content)

26. what faceclaim do you wish you could play, and why haven't you used them/yet?

That’s interesting. I’m bad at fcs, I don’t think I watch enough of tv and movies especially the newer series these many years, to know who I want. Maybe rufus sewell? But I don’t even watch his damn movies, can’t even tell if he’d have nice scenes.

The superhero guy doesn’t have a fc yet so I’m always open to suggestions.

ian mcshane and elizabeth banks - nice voice

ewan mcgregor - has been nice to consider. i actually wrote an npc and described him with his features. it would be amazing if anyone caught it

[radiant-reid]

Ok hear me out…

Cute little blurb where Spencer and his pregnant wife bicker about baby names? 🥹 Like she’s thinking kinda ordinary ones but he comes up with all the unique and special ones instead, idk if this makes sense lol

aw like that tiktok trend where it's the moms saying why the dads rejected certain names. also, btw, if you're name is one mentioned in this, i'm sorry, just going off some criticisms for the plot

"Okay, here's one." Spencer starts, flipping through the book of baby names he'd brought.

He insisted you wait to do this together and banned you from looking online- like a normal person would- until he found a book of names.

So there you are, sitting up against the headboard, under the covers as you sift through hundreds of names to find the perfect one for your perfect baby.

"Yeah?" You ask, fingers pausing on the trackpad of your laptop as you turn to look at him.

"Wren, it means small bird." He says, eagerly waiting for your reaction.

You giggle a little at him while you shake your head. "Wren Reid? Give the kid a chance."

"Oh." He realizes, looking like the news is hitting him all over again as his eyes gloss over with tears, happy tears. "They're going to be a Reid."

Seeing him tearful at the most seemingly insignificant moments only makes you so much surer that there's no one you'd rather do this with than him.

"Yeah, they are, so they need a name that's not so...rhyme-y." You direct him back to the book as you look back at your laptop. "Something noble like Spencer."

"Spencer came from the name for people who used to dispense goods to affluent households in Middle English." He recites to you, clearly having looked it up before.

You nod, continuing your search before hitting a name that you think could work. "Agnes."

He can't shake his head fast enough. "That's my great-grandmother's name, no way."

"Eleanor." You try.

"If it's in a Beatles song, it's too old." He rules.

"Damn, I guess that takes Rigby and Pepper off the table then, too." You joke, earning a fond eye roll and chuckle from him. "And you know Hotch would say the Beatles are timeless."

Spencer laughs at that. "Yeah, the guy who named his kid after an infamous serial killer." There's silent contemplation for a moment before Spencer's next idea comes. "River." He suggests.

"We're not celebrities, we can't name our kids' random nouns." You remind him.

"Kids? Plural?" He asks curiously.

Three had been the agreed number, but he knew how hard the past three months had been on you, and he wasn't going to hold you to any idyllic promise made before you were pregnant, or parents.

"Sure, as long as this one, or naming this one, isn't too unbearable." You answer with a shrug.

"You won't be unbearable." He says, although it's not to you, you realize when his hand touches your lower stomach. "Baby...Pascal." He tries out.

"The chameleon from Tangled?" You ask, a little shocked he was coming up with such unconventional names.

He frowns back at you, not getting the pop-culture reference. "Uh, maybe? It's cute, though."

"Yeah, for a chameleon." You agree. "How about Darcy? You love Jane Austen."

"Maybe." Finally, some sense of agreement. "Jane's nice too or Attie, like Atticus but for a girl."

You frown a little at him. "I really didn't think you'd be the one with the quirky suggestions."

"Neither." He agrees. "Are we going to struggle to come to a decision on this?"

There's a little bit of concern on his face which you're quick to wipe off. "No, we'll figure it out. Just nothing too old or too weird."

"Okay, I have the perfect one." He declares a few minutes later, closing the book and putting it on the side table as a sign of his devotion to the name. "Matilda."

You wait a minute to draw out suspense. "Yes, absolutely."

[bethagain]

Meta and spoilers for TBoBF S1 E5 ahead.

Been thinking about the level of craft that goes into creating Din Djarin as a character.

Opening scene of TBoBF Ch. 5, my immediate reaction is not “Yikes, very scary man doing deeply violent things for basically no reason.”

It’s, “Oh dear. He really needs a hug.”

What makes that happen?

I’m still figuring out the the inner workings of the writing. More on that later, probably, when I have fully formed thoughts.

Right now, can we talk about how Pedro Pascal does Din's voice?

As a writer, I can hear dialogue in my head and write it down, but I don’t think I could make the sounds come out of my mouth right if you paid me a million dollars to practice. So—what is he doing, exactly, and why does it work so damn well?

How does he manage to make Din sound childlike and like a fully grown adult at the same time? The adult part, I think, is this: He doesn’t rush his speech, no matter the situation Din has gotten himself into. He also doesn’t stumble, and he doesn’t pause to search for words. (Except for the very intentional change-up in that one scene on Morak.) It implies both confidence and competence.

But then, there’s the thing with the thank yous. Quiet and earnest and prompt, like a well behaved child among grown-ups. And the way he tends to pronounce words so carefully, using all the consonants and vowels. As if Din’s not quite comfortable with them yet (even though he’s presumably been speaking Basic for, what, 40-something years).

I think inflection is a key part of what’s happening, too. It’s not that the tone and volume don’t vary, but it’s subtle. Small differences from one word or phrase to the next. On one level that makes Din sound tough—I don’t need to expend energy on you. But there’s something Pedro does with it, that I’m still trying to figure out, that also makes him sound tired. I don’t have any energy left to spend on you.

I don’t know, I don’t usually think this hard about the craft of acting, but I’m really impressed.

If any actors out there have better insight, bring it on. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

[words-are-fireproof]

Breathing Space

*gif by @pedrc-pascal-archived

Warnings: contains mention of blood and death; deals heavily with PTSD.

Fandom: Narcos

Character: Javier Peña

Length: 1.3k

Rating: T

Summary: After nightmares wake him up, Javier calls an old friend.

Inspired by: @the-ginger-hedge-witch and her fic The Crush. Specifically inspired by the chapter titled "The Hero".

P.S. I don't own Eva. I also don't know Spanish. Whatever is in this fic is from Google. Blame them if I get it wrong.

Originally found on AO3.

[Masterlist]

--------

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Such simple movements, engrained from birth, became difficult to grasp. 

The nightmare took him by surprise, jerking him from a fitful slumber with a start. The sounds of the city leaked through cheap single paned windows. Sounds he’d long since gotten used to made his nerves dance like live wires under his skin. Unseeing eyes peered up at the cream colored ceiling, still trying to reign himself in, still in the grips of a scenario his mind made up for him. Why must the mind be so cruel?

His fingers itched for the smooth skin of a woman, but his bed remained empty, a machination of his own design. He often drowned in the soft, familiar comforts of women’s slender arms, nestled into their warm flesh and tried to remind himself exactly how to breathe. How long had it been since his chest hadn’t ached with each sharp inhale? How long had it been since he’d actually caught his breath, the motions coming smoothly instead of in panicked, overwhelmed staccato? He couldn’t remember, and the sick thought percolated in his stomach. 

This wasn’t what he wanted in his life. The dreams he dreamt of on the dusty farm in Laredo never included this. Delusions of grandeur, that’s what he had. Delusions of trying to make a difference. 

But what difference had he made?

Uneasy. Out of sorts. Lost. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Lost. Perhaps that didn’t describe it perfectly, but then again, he didn’t know what would describe the things he felt on a day-to-day basis. None of it surprised him. He left parts of himself all over Colombia, on the streets, reflected in crappy rear view mirrors, dirty windows, and spilled blood. A ghost of the drug war that took so many people every single day. A ghost with a pulse, haunting the very people he so desperately wanted to kill, but couldn’t touch. 

Dios mio could he really be that naive? 

Of course he could. Lehder, Gacha, they were small fish in a big pond, but fish all the same. Then why did it feel like he’d already failed before he even got started? Why did he feel so damn helpless? Because he didn’t have Escobar. Escobar embodied everything he hated about Bogota, everything he hated about home. 

The untouchable man. The hometown hero. A savior nobody asked for but they got all the same. He knew a few back home like that, can remember their smug faces, can hear their voices whispered behind grocery store shelves and around shellacked wooden bars. They were the voices he heard in his nightmares, twisted beyond recognition, taunting him for his failures, and there were many. Too many to count. Add in the murmurs of the rest of the town, add in the gossip–about him, his father, Lorraine–and their disapproval could be felt thousands of miles away. 

A car alarm shrieked far too closely to his apartment. His heart pounded in his chest, a hand reaching for his side table before he came back down. He uttered a curse, fingers carding through his hair as he drug himself out of bed to find a bottle to drown in. He traded the soft skin of a woman to the hard glass of whiskey. It didn’t have the same feel to it. It was too cold, impersonable. 

It didn’t help. 

But what made him feel better? Staring at the ceiling willing himself to fall back asleep or drinking until the liquor made him sleepy? He’d choose the liquor any day. 

He glanced at the clock on the microwave. Too late to go out. Too early to go to work. He could call his father, but the two of them barely spoke anymore. The wayward son. Too eager to leave, too broken to return. No. He would let Chucho tend to his wintering cows and horses and other farming miscellany. He wondered if Eva had woken up yet, if she was busy with chores too, just chores of a different kind. He sighed and knocked back his whiskey in one long pull. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Javi barely heard the ringtone on the handset as he cradled it between his ear and shoulder, pouring another few fingers of liquor. He barely even realized he’d picked up his phone and dialed a number. He thought maybe he could change his mind, hang up before he drug anyone else under with him, but he couldn’t be that lucky. Eva’s familiar voice soon sounded over the headset.

“Hello?” 

He took a breath, winced and greeted the woman. “Buenos dias, Eva.” 

“Javi,” she breathed out reverently, as if she’d been called by Jesus himself. “You never call. You never write. I started to think you’d been killed down there.” 

He laughed mirthlessly. “No such luck.” 

“Javier, no te atrevas,” she scolded. 

“Lo siento,” he murmured, finishing up his second glass of whiskey. “I didn’t disturb anything, did I?”

“Not yet. Just making breakfast.” 

“What are you making?” 

The conversation felt so mundane, but not entirely unwelcome as he stood there in the darkened apartment, trying to keep his chest from hurting, feeling his heart thumping under his ribs like it wanted to escape. 

She laughed. “You called to see what I’m making for breakfast?” 

“No. I’m just making conversation.” 

She sighed over the handset. “Huevas con chorizo. Chucho made the chorizo.” 

“As he usually does.” 

“You need to call him, Javi. He’s not getting any younger.” 

And he wondered why he didn’t call Eva often. 

“None of us are.” 

“¿Qué te he dicho ya?” 

The sound of sizzling sausage and a wooden spoon scraping across the bottom of a skillet reached his ears in the ensuing silence. He imagined the disappointed look on Eva’s face. It was the same disappointed look his mama used to wear when he got in trouble for fighting at school. No one wanted to accept their headlong race against mortality, least of all a woman who’d seen her best friend ripped from her far too early in her life. But he couldn’t help it. 

She didn’t know it–or maybe she did–but he wasn’t getting out of Colombia alive. 

“No te atrevas.” 

“Si, no te atrevas. It’s too early in the morning for that.” 

“Lo siento,” he breathed again, considering the rest of the whiskey in the bottle on the counter. Might as well. He didn’t even pour it into the glass, just drank it straight from the bottle. “How’s the farm? How’s everyone?” 

“Getting by, of course,” she began, trailing off to say good morning to whoever had come into the kitchen. 

She continued on, talking about Gabe, Isa, Aaron, and Eli, but he couldn’t keep up, his mind working a mile a minute as, suddenly, down the street from him, he heard the loud pops of guns being shot in the street. The sound startled him, instantly reaching to the small of his back for a nonexistent weapon. He carded his shaking hand through his dark hair. It was then he realized Eva had stopped talking. 

“I gotta go,” he uttered suddenly, disregarding whatever she’d said or asked. “I’ll write soon.” 

“Si, you better. And call your papa. ¿Entiendes?” 

“Entiendo.” 

He didn’t wait for her to say goodbye, nor did he say the word either, slamming the phone down on its base and chugging down the rest of his liquor. He glanced at the clock on the microwave again. Still too early to go to work. He resigned himself to a little more shut eye, padding back to his room and collapsing into his bed, not even worrying about covering up with blankets. He didn’t think he would sleep for long. 

As he closed his eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep, he murmured toward the ceiling, “Perdóname padre porque he pecado.”

Breathe in. Breathe out.