#i had to gif this interview because oh my god it gives me SUCH big four walls miles vibes

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

x

[dilf-docs]

Call It What You Want

husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: you and pedro are married, but you've kept it a secret up to the point you sometimes forget there's supposed to be a golden band on your finger. but then you both get cast in your first movie together. the chemistry is off the charts, and it starts to catch upon you: will the lines between shipping and reality finally blur?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (ñom), smut, dry humping, oral (m. receiving) while pedro wears the skirt™️ (welcome to another episode of the writer's barely disguised fetish), p. in v., teeny bit of angst because i malfunction if i don't bring sad vibes to the function, the worst ever attempt of comedy witnessed by human kind, they're so down bad it hurts, jealous!reader, possesive!pedro, reader speaks spanish and may or may not have direct/indirect latino blood somewhere, use of spanglish but no translations ☹️ (boo go do your homework, citizens. that's what u get for making my dieter bravo fic flop BYE), i transcripted two real interviews for this so keep those likes, reblogs and comments up in the air where i can see 'em 🪓🪓

word count: 11,706 words

side note: hello! this is me, sliding my cv to become president of the pedro pascal fics. i'm kidding, just on duty to fulfill another request 🫡 believe it or not, i envisioned something like this but for myself IJBOL we have to keep the delusional levels UP!! i hope this meets ur expectations, it was fun to write :)

part: I/II

"Please welcome, the internet's newest darling, Y/n L/n!"

You walk into the set, cameras flashing bright and the band playing on the back. You hug Jimmy Fallon, and when he notices your body trembling he tells you everything will be alright. So did your manager before you stepped inside, but you can't help the nerves. You've never been this big before, and now it's all coming down together without letting you breath.

You take your seat and so does Jimmy.

"Hello, Y/n. This is your first time here, right?"

"Am I being too obvious?" you snort. The crowd laughs with you.

"Don't worry. It happens, especially when you're so young"

"Oh, please" you blush. "I can promise you there are kid actors who could handle this better than I am right now"

"Kid stars?" he lets out one of his famous cackles. "No need to be humble. You are great! Let's just talk about the year you've had: big breakout roles, ascend to fame, you're rocking it!" the crowd cheers, and you again turn into a flustered mess.

"Yeah, I suppose. It's hard to dimension when you've started as an extra for popular shows, to now being, you know, the main face of projects. But I could get used to it" you smile, "it's been a dream. I still can't believe it sometimes, look- I'm shaking"

The camera pans closer to the hand you're showing to Jimmy.

"Oh my God, even big stars like you get nervous"

"Big star? I wish I could feel like a constellation. I'm feeling more like a red dwarf star, baby"

The whole place bubbles in laughter. You feel better, your manager even giving you a thumbs up from behind the cameras.

"So, Y/n" Jimmy says once the laughter dies. "You just got casted in the upcoming Gladiator II movie, directed by Ridley Scott. How does it feel to be on your first big movie, alongside names like Paul Mescal, Denzel Washington and Pedro Pascal?"

You try to steady your heartbeat. "First of all, I have to say, it's such an honor to work with Scott. I grew up watching his movies. Like, Thelma and Louis is definitely my go-to movie. So, like, getting paired with such a talented cast is as awesome as terrifying" you answer with a laugh.

"Talking about that, you see" he leans closer, like he'll tell a secret. "I've heard things about you and a certain future co-star of yours"

You shift your position on the couch, your ring(less) finger itching. You have to avoid breathing in relief when Jimmy pulls out a picture.

"Oh. My. God"

He stiffles a laugh. No way. Has the room's temperature suddenly gotten hotter? Why is your face burning?

"Will you tell us the story behind this?" he asks, the camera focusing on the picture in question. The audience laughs, and you pray to God this is a nightmare, because it's too much embarrasment for a human to bear.

"Okay" you clear your throat, coughing awkwardly. "For my 25th birthday, I uploaded a bunch of pictures on Instagram, including ones where I was a teenager" you begin to giggle, "So. Um, there was this one, you see, that's, me, in my childhood home's bedroom, and my fans were quick to notice the poster above my bed"

"You mean, this one?" and Jimmy points it out. You cover your face with your palms. "It's a... Narcos poster" the audience laughs as you get redder. "A Pedro Pascal's Narcos poster"

"I know" you groan. "Picture this: me 18, and while my friends had posters of their favorite bands and artists, I was so different because I had a whole ass poster of a crime drama show about the world's most famous drug dealer on my bedroom" you recall with a laugh. "It was hard to explain to my mom. I believe she thought I wanted to sign for the DEA or something. When I told her I was going to be an actress, she was so relieved! She said: Oh, well. You'll die, but of hunger! Not a bullet in your head, at least"

"Oh. I'm so sorry. You proved her wrong though!"

"I did! Don't worry, Jimmy. She's my biggest fan now" you look at a specific camera before saying, "Te amo mami!"

"I see you speak spanish. I sometimes forget" he comments. "You've got one thing in common with Pedro, it seems. Think that'll make working with him less awkward?"

"I just hope he forgives me or I'm capable of moving out of the country and changing names" you giggle. "Pedro, lo siento!"

"Well, that's Y/n L/n, everyone! Pedro Pascal's number one fan" you burst out laughing in shame. "More on her lastest movie after the break"

mandoshoney: tell me i'm not the only one who started shipping pedro pascal and y/n l/n PLEASE can't wait to get content of them interacting ㅤㅤann-gell: mandoshoney y/n's pedro pascal's controversially young gf era starts now! i wonder how the press tour for #gladiatorII will go 🤔 unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they are dating ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess ptwt can never tweet like normal ppl…wdym you're betting your grandma?!!!?

You were never a fan of secrets.

But then Pedro waltzed into your life with his charming smile and iconic mustache, and before you knew it, you had married him off in some church in California one random sunday morning ("I love you so much, can't wait to marry you, cariño" "If you can't wait any longer, why not now?")

Flash forward, four years later, and you'd think such event would be plastered all over the internet. But there is a reason why only you, family, a selected number of friends and your agents knew: you kept it a secret.

To the world, he was Chile's most elegible bachelor and you were a young rising star. The public loved both of you for the same reasons: charming persona and acting skills. Yet inside the privacy of your home, he was Pedro and you were y/n, wife and husband; he was yours as you were his.

And of course, no marriage is perfect, and your first real challenge is rather funny: you both get casted in your first movie together.

It shouldn't be hard, but it is. Being inside the Gladiator II set during seven months, so far away yet so close at the same time, was torture. You were Rome's empress and he's Marcus Acacius, yet behind the scenes, the actual married couple were you both.

It was hard to pretend you didn't know what he looked like without clothes when he wore his bathing suit, or that you didn't know his favorite food when Paul asked, or acting like you weren't interested in dating when a local in Malta during your trip at the beach asked you out (he didn't know who you were. You were flattered when he called you pretty in such a hot European accent, but then Pedro appeared from seemingly "nowhere" and you remembered what your real favorite accent was. He immediately called you bonita after that)

It was so hard to keep hands to yourself when he walked by you, covered in fake blood. To not think about licking it all over and under his armour. So was to pretend the thought of dry humping him with his Roman skirt on wasn't tempting. Or that the urge to kiss him got harder and harder to fight each passing day, even getting to a point where you would envy Connie for being able to kiss your husband in the open more, a privilege you didn't have.

You were loosing your mental health here. But Pedro was no better.

It was so hard to see you, the Moroccan sun shining over your features like you were an angel. Otherworldly. That he'd see red when you'd finish filming a scene with Joseph, forcing himself to interrupt the small chat you'd engage in after. He too couldn't keep pretending he didn't want to tear off those silk dresses out of your body, and kiss you out in the open like Joseph did.

He almost failed once, cornering you in the hallway of the hotel you were staying. His hot breath lingered on your neck. I miss you, he had said. You felt his hard brush the inner of your thigh. We can't, you whispered in a dragged out voice.

It was hard.

So you gave him your used panties, and you swear you could hear him jacking off in the bathroom of his room, next to yours. He'd screamed your name, and your hand had found it's way to your dripping cunt, doing what he was supposed to do; touching you the way he did. And you came, drowned out moans against your pillow. But it wasn't like when he did it.

But God has heard your prayers.

For the first time in weeks, you're lucky. You find Pedro sitting alone in the cafeteria, his phone in hand. He's still wearing his armour and skirt, not bothering to change for the break. You aren't God's strongest soldier, but you're trying not to go down on him so badly right here and now.

"Hey" he raises his head when he hears your voice, smile adoringly. It only grows wider when he notices you alone. "Thought you'd never get rid of Paul. He's like, stitched to you"

"Same can be said about you and Joseph" you sit across him, and despite most of his tone being playful, there are still hints of jealousy behind. It arouses you deeply, and with this hot summer day above you, your skin isn't the only thing that's getting sticky.

"In case you haven't read the script, I'm his wife" you wink. "Sorry this is how you find out"

He laughs loudly, and God, how have you missed that laugh. Sure, it's been there when you've been out with the cast together, but it doesn't tingle your chest as when you're the cause of it; it feels like it's for you only, and that's what makes it special.

"I miss you so much" he whispers, his hand sliding across the table, finding yours. His thumb carresses your soft palm, and you melt under Pedro's tender touch.

"I do too" you sigh, but it's instantly replaced by what could only be described as a smug face. You lean closer, whispering on his ear, the warm meeting cold. He shivers. "Wanna know something?"

"I'm all ears"

"I just came back from walking. Guess what?No one is 'round here" you lean back against your chair, shit-eating grin on your face as all his body tenses up. "Made sure of it. The trailer zone is empty too"

Pedro gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as his eyes look at you.

"Y/n" calling your name as a warning.

"What? Can't a girl find ways to have her husband all for herself?" you snort. "Please say yes" you let go of his hand, but the free fingers now travel across his broad chest, taunting him. "C'mon, we both deserve a break"

He can't say deny you anything, can he? You know it, he knows it.

Before you register, his big hand engulfs yours as you run across the set. You giggle at his rushed steps, even more when you stand before his trailer and he's fumbling his slippery hands with the doorknob, sloppy movements erratic.

"But you told me to stop" you tease, and he doesn't even let you add more because he's pushing you inside, forcing you with rough calloused hands to a chair and then you to sit over his lap.

"Fuck, babygirl. I've spoiled you way too much" he groans against your lips. "Lo sabes, ¿verdad? Just can't say no to you"

Your eyes darken dangerously, the hunger on them mirroring his own.

"How could you ever say no to this?"

You press your chest against his broad one as your lip bites into his lower one, teasing. Pedro feels his underwear getting tighter when your tongue finds its way inside his mouth, even getting a glimpse of the taste of the strawberries you had earlier before.

He deepens the kiss, and when you pull away to catch your breath, he doesn't waste his lonely mouth and busies himself with the task of kissing your sun-kissed neck, licking and pressing his lips under your jaw. Pedro goes even lower, down until he's reached your collarbone, making you groan a bit under his wet sloppy needy mouth. He's enjoying how putty you are under his intense kissing, fingers in his curls, that have begun to damp under the ablaze of the small space and pleasure that fills the air.

"Kiss me again in my lips" you whine after a while of him teasing you with kisses that get only rougher. "Pretty please, papi"

You cup his face in your hands, and Pedro's back to kissing you in the mouth, tasting all of your insides as he hasn't had in what feels like a lifetime.

"Of course, baby. Missed this pretty mouth" he mumbles in between hot kisses, his now growing boner pressing into you.

"Baby" you giggle. The skirt he's got on may hide it, but your fingers refused to wait, pulling it up. His bulge presses against the shorts he's got under the skirt, and you can feel your pussy and mouth drool. "We have to do something about this big boy" your hands pull down the short, leaving just his underwear on. He's about to remove the skirt, but your demanding hands stops him. "This stays"

His brown concerned eyes make you laugh, but you don't give him time to think about it, rather grinding against his erection. Pedro's breath hitches when he feels your daring movements, bucking his hips against yours.

The friction is addicting, and he captures your lips once again to make you feel what he can't with words: how fucking good this feels.

You keep moving over his aching dick. Your husband throws his head back, groaning in pleasure at the way your hips move against him, knowingly. His hands find their way to your ass under the flowy almost translucent skirt you chose to change in, gripping the rosy skin tightly, hands almost covering all of it.

"You wore this for me, right, cariño? Knew I couldn't say no" he groans, firm hands on your cheeks, the grinding meeting his hips now harsher. "Less with you walking around with this slutty skirt of yours"

You make little sounds he's obssesed with, dripping out of your filthy mouth.

"Fuck" Pedro groans after a while, "I need to have you, mami. Missed you so much" eager fingers make it to your top. He growls, deep within him―guttural, ready to pull it off as he mumbles naughty wife when he realizes you got no bra on, chastising you for a "rushed" plan that seemed planned all along, when a sound cuts through the air.

You both stop.

The sound gets clearer.

It's a knock. A knock at his door.

A knock in Pedro's trailer.

And you are inside. Both.

While you're grinding him.

With his skirt on.

(It's time to build a bomb and kill yourselves off and whoever is stading behind that door)

"Pedro!" a familiar accent calls. Peudrou. It's Paul. "Hey, man. Just wondering if you are here"

He's debating on speaking up when he sees your red face and rising-falling chest before him.

"Answer" you whisper breathlessly. He tries not to groan when he fills you slip out of the spot in his middle while also trying not to think about murdering Paul as soon as he gets out.

Aside from the order, you're unexpectedly quiet, and Pedro quirks an eyebrow at you. He knows you better―you're his wife after all, and if there's something he's aware of, is your inability to loose.

"I'm here" tone clipped and annoyed. But no footsteps backtracking are heard: the Irish man is still there.

You bite your lip, watching the skirt with his legs spread, a sight too tempting. Also, he was still hard, as hard as the task to not go and keep doing your job.

Oh, fuck this shit.

Your devilish hand equals the grin in your face, fingers making their way toward his unattended bulge.

"What are you doing here?" Paul asks, but Pedro's attention has completely deviated, now focused on how they land right over his clothed dick, skirt pulled up by your other hand. "I thought you were at the cafeteria"

"Yeah?" but it comes out strained, yet the younger man doesn't notice or comment.

His hips raise when your fingers press his member, massaging it.

"Yeah" he uses a tone that equals a duh. "You texted me yourself"

Pedro rolls his eyes, wishing desperately he would go away, annoying him just as much as a fly hovering above fresh food. Talking about food, fuck, weren't you hungry? He tried to warn you, holding your wrist, but all resolve was lost the moment you looked in his eyes: he immediately pulled down his briefs, dick sprouting hard.

"Well, changed my mind" his tone falters in between words, member now free from the confines of his tight underwear.

"Are you tired, man? You sound tired" Paul comments on his tone. "Came to rest?"

You spit on your hand, and he gulps.

"Somethin' like that"

You start to jerk him off, leaving little wet kisses and licks just above his dick. Pedro's eyes are hypnotized, glued to every lick of yours across his girth, the spit making your movements smoother. Sexier. Fuck.

"Well, sorry to break it to you but rest time is over. They want us back on set now"

Your tight needy lips are wrapped around his his length and it's so hard to keep the talk normal when he justs wants to yell at Paul to fuck off. Your hand is there too; you are as of help as much as you aren't.

"I'll be there, Paul, just―Fuck!"

But his attempt to cover a moan doesn't go unnoticed.

"Are you alright in there?" he tries to enter, but Pedro locked the door. He's yelling he's fine, but Mescal doesn't sound convinced. "I can't go inside; it's locked. Are you sure you are okay, mate?"

"Didn't want you to take a picture of me drooling on my sleep" he manages to get out in a monotone voice. A real win if you take into account you've gotten to a point where you squeeze under his cock, massaging his balls.

"Smart move!" he chuckles from outside. "I guess I'll see you there"

Pedro covers a moan with his palm as he's throwing his head back in pleasure. He can feel his orgams looming over, minstrations growing sloppier around his pulsating cock, the need to fill your greedy evil mouth with his seed making him sick. He's a simple man: he just wants his pretty wife to fuck his cock silly and come in her mouth in peace. Is that so hard to get this days?

Paul seems to be finally gone as Pedro can't keep containing his grunts anymore, steps moving: until said steps sound closer again.

"Oh, I almost forgot, have you seen Y/n? I can't find her anywhere" it's coming. His orgasm is coming in the absolute worst moment. He can feel you gagging at his hard rock cock, hitting the back of your throat now. Still, your hands don't loose their grip on his cock and skirt, determination filling that sexy little body of yours. It was rather admirable the effort you were putting in this. "Think she went to the beach? She said she loved it. God, that little rebel. Anyway, if you see her, tell her-"

He leans his head back once again, seeing stars. No one knows him like his wife, truly.

The sight of you drooling from your chin, the wet sounds of him fucking himself onto your mouth as your spit-coated fingers pump his girth, you gulping down the precum from his tip, his fingers holding your face roughly by the cheeks...

"Yes, Paul, yes!" Pedro barks, barely hiding the moan that erupts from his ribcage, thick shots of his hot cum hitting your tongue and deep of the throath. "Fuck off and let me get ready"

"Jesus, mate, chill. I'm sorry. See you there"

And Paul Mescal's hovering fly ass is finally gone.

"Poor Paul" you say as soon as you pull off his length, voice raspy as you huff for air. Pedro lovingly cleans rests of your saliva and his cum from your chin as he chuckles at how much audacity, courage and horniness could fit in such a small young body. "You've ruined the friendship"

"You think?" he licks off some as you sit on his lap again, tongue directly on your face. You feel aroused again, but time's up. "It's your fault. That and this"

He points down.

"Just as you used that pretty head of yours to think of the trouble you just made, think of an excuse for Mr. Ridley about the skirt"

at0michips: wait wdym paul is sick??? ㅤㅤl-u-n-a-m: at0michips he's died vnightx: i'm wondering who'll do now the do you even know me interview with pedro now :( i was so excited!!! hope they don't cancel it :( ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: vnightx i bet my grandma it's y/n ㅤㅤat0michips: unhing3dprincess why do u keep betting ur grandma omg 😭😭😭

"You know what I think would be fun?" Pedro comments while you wait for the interview's set to be prepared.

Tour press has finally begun. That meant you could go home for a while after the filming wrapped, just to be back for the promotion of the film. You were excited of course, the experience new and thrilling. After much needed battery recharging and husband/wife time, you were ready to take over the world.

But then Paul got sick.

Today's interview was scheduled to be him and Pedro, but since he was unavailable, they paired him with you, since you both spoke Spanish (which felt slightly racist in your opinion), and because Fred and Joseph were already paired up for the other.

You leave your coffee, knowing he's about to say something stupid or endearing, perhaps both, brown liquid probably spilling out of your mouth. Or worst, nostrils.

"Tell me"

"What if we left little hints that we're together?" his smile is one of mischief. "Like you could wear my cap, or I could wear a chain with your initial around my neck, like Ryan Gosling did at the Barbie premiere"

"Or as Taylor Swift sang" you counter. "But Pedro, dear, you're underestimating our fans. You don't think they'll match it sooner than we think?"

"Maybe" he agrees. That's just what I want. "What's funny is we're about to do a type of interview where we could blow our cover"

"Maybe" you repeat, "or maybe you don't know all about me as much as you think, Mr. Pascal"

He fake gasps, feigning hurt. "Is this a dare, Mrs. Pascal?"

"No" you try to be mature for once, cutting the banter as much as you'd like to go on and kiss him right there. "Also, remember to answer incorrectly sometimes, you know..."

"There's no way I'm letting you win though"

"Pedro, no seas necio!"

The producers arrive just in time to let you know it's ready.

"After M'lady" he's back to being charming as he is, not as husband charming but just Pedro Pascal charming. The nerve of this guy to do it in front of the LADbible crew.

"Whatever" you grumble, the nerves getting the best of you as you realize this interview may or may not give away more than you've been allowed before.

"Hello, I am Y/n L/n" you present yourself. Wow, the camera is really close. This isn't going to end well.

"And I'm Pedro Pascal"

Hearing his voice soothes you. It's okay, y/n, you got this. "And this is Do You Really Know Me- No wait, it's do you even know me. Okay, let's start again: Hello, I'm Y/n and this is-"

"I don't even know anymore" Pedro jokes, making you laugh. "Do you even know me?" he asks while looking forward, now making the crew laugh.

"This is Pedro Pascal, that'll do" you sigh.

"This is gonna be sad, she's not going to know any of these" he says, but in reality, he's mocking you, the mischief in his eyes glowing as he only looks at you tauntingly.

"Same can be said about you" you tease, "we're like a million years away"

"That's not true!" he gasps, "I watch your every move" punctuating each word. God, you try not to make a face. "I have Google alerts on you"

If he was gonna play, so were you.

"Glad to know I have you alerted" with the sweetest voice ever, seeing how his friendly façade falters for a bit at the tone you've used. You laugh, and Pedro takes the chance to laugh it off too.

After the introduction, they ask one of you to keep score, and you offer yourself because, well, you don't trust Pedro.

"I'll go first" you say. "Which was my first ever role in the industry? As an extra during an episode of Stranger Things, as a voice actor in A dog's purpose" you can't help but laugh, "or as a back-up dancer in Hustlers?"

"In Hustlers?" Pedro inquires in disbelief. "You're telling me you were in Hustlers?! I didn't even know you could dance!"

Lies. You and Pedro sometimes put some bachata and dance in the kitchen. God bless Juan Luis Guerra.

"Jennifer Lopez and I are practically besties" you answer nonchalant.

You know the answer. He does too. But he chooses the last one for comedic purposes.

"I'll go with Hustlers. Now that I'm looking at you, you do have a... dancer face"

"It's okay, you can say the forbidden word. I'll take it as a compliment" you laugh, "you're wrong, though. The answer is Stranger Things"

"No way!" and it sounds as if he genuinely didn't know. Good lying son of a bitch; Jim Carrey on Liar, Liar would've been proud.

"Yes. If you look in the background of season two, on this one episode where Nancy and Steve appear to have broken up during a halloween party, you can see me drinking from a cup on a corner"

"That's so crazy"

"Yeah, I was twenty already, yet playing a highschooler" you giggle. "Wow, time flies by. Anyway, we're both at zero. Your turn"

"What film did my dad not let me see at the cinema when I was, uh, ten years old?" Pedro reads from his card. "Rambo: first blood, The Breakfast Club, Day of The Dead"

"I'm going to base this in the year you were born. Okay, so 1975. Let's see" one of the things Pedro loves about you is that you're like a film encyclopedia, but right now, that'll cost him a point. "They all came out the same year, and they were also R rated. Hmmh, I'll choose The Breakfast Club"

Your analysis was just mindless bragging really. You knew the answer the moment he started reading the question, because the anecdote came during a time he heard you listening to the movie's soundtrack ("Did you know that my dad...")

"You complain about Paul all the time, but you're just the same" he comments. "She's a real competitor, people!"

You flush in embarrasment. "Okay, that's one for me. Next question" you read the card in your hands. "What pet do I own? An orange cat named Louis after my favorite singer, a fish, or a Shih Tzu named after my brother"

The orange cat lives with you both. You're curious as to how he'll answer.

"You aren't naming a Shih Tzu frickin' Fernando" he laughs, so loud, it ends up catching up to you and the crew. "I'll go with the cat"

"That's correct" you lament. "How would you know?"

As if the damn cat doesn't love him more than he loves you.

"I follow you on Instagram" he defends himself. Clever. "We are, um, what do you call it-"

"Oomfs"

"I'm not gonna try to pronounce your made up language. Okay, my turn. Which of these characters I've played in Saturday Night Live? Naughty daddy, protective mom, or weird uncle who has a creepy sneeze" he reads out loud in a confused tone.

This is easy. It was all over your timeline.

"Protective mom" you answer on a beat.

"This isn't fair, that was really popular!" he complains.

"It's still two for me and one for you" you mock. "Now, what is the nickname the internet has given me? I won't give you clues because it's an easy one"

"Easy? You said we were million of years apart and now I'm supposed to know?"

"Well, you seem to manage Instagram so I think you'll be just fine" you tease, and Pedro just wants to rip that smirk off of you. So he caves in first.

"It's people's princess"

"What?!" your eyes grow comically large, shimmering with betrayal as you shout with an incredulous tone. "I can't believe you know" more like can't believe you said it.

"You're royalty! How am I supposed to not know that, internet darling? Besides, told you: I keep my eye on you" and he winks.

This motherfucker. Oh, he's totally sleeping on the couch tonight.

"Talk about internet darlings" your snarky tone comes out, and Pedro knows he's pissed his competitive wife off. "I guess we have a tie. Your turn"

"What are the initials of my full name?" his brows furrow. "I forget. JBPP, JPBP, JBPP"

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite. "B, of course"

"But that's too easy, everyone with Google knows it!" but then he's leaning into your ear, whispering in a very low voice to make sure only you hear. "I'll let it pass, though. Love hearing you pronounce my name, mami"

Your face grows obscenely red. "I'm back ahead. Let's see if you can keep up. Okay, here it goes" you read the card, "what is the director I've stated I want to work with? Greta Gerwig, Pedro Almodóvar, or Quentin Tarantino"

"Pedro Almodóvar, no? You said you were jealous I had already worked with him" he playfully nudges you. Too much contact, face hot again. Maybe in group interviews you'll do better, because right now, you're doing a rather poor job at controlling yourself, even as an actor; you can already picture your agent pulling her hair behind the cameras.

"It's Greta Gerwig, actually"

"What?! No way, you told me this!" he grumbles. "This game is rigged"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still jealous. I just think working with Greta Gerwig is peak womanhood, and I gotta live that. So, Greta, if for some reason this silly video gets to you, call me. I promise I'm not that childish"

"She is" Pedro slips in, "don't call her. So unprofessional" in a mocking exaggerated tone.

"Whatever, you sore looser. Me three, you two. Next!"

"Fine. Which of these songs would I have played at my funeral? My Heart Will Go On, Purple Rain, Nothing Compares To You"

He looks at you, silently pleading you to not answer correctly. Your competitive side screams in agony.

"I have no idea. Why do I feel you've already said it somewhere, though? I'll go with Nothing Compares To You, because the first its too corny for you and the second too epic"

He scoffs, amused at the fact that you did obey, but at what cost? Pedro's well aware his princess can get as competitive, if not worse, than Paul.

"You're saying I'm not epic enough for Purple Rain? Too bad, because that's the answer" you grunt, crossing your arms. "That's right, I am cool enough to have it played. I guess we're tied again!"

"No, you don't loose a point. It's still three to two. This just gives you the opportunity to tie"

"W-wait a minute"

"Settle down" you pat his thigh, "you can still try, handsome"

He gulps when your hand meets his skin, despite the layer of clothes. It's still something that gets him on edge, no matter the years you've known each other. And handsome? You came here for blood.

"Okay, here's your chance: what image of me became trending topic on twitter? An image of me eating a typical dish from my country, an image of me watching Deadpool and Wolverine with glasses while Hugh Jackman's shirtless scene reflects on them or C, me meeting Taylor Swift at the backstage of the Eras Tour"

"The typical dish is tempting" he muses out loud, "but I'll go with the Taylor Swift one because that sounds like something that'd trend"

"You're right" you throw your card. "I'm not complaining though. Best day of my life"

"Does this mean I'm winning?" he beams excitedly. "Oh, in your face Paul! I will finally win something!"

"Slow down, cowboy. There's still some left"

He purses his lips. "Let me have this one thing, would you? Guess not. Here it comes" he starts to read his card, "At school I competed in state competitions, in which sport? Soccer, lacrosse, swimming"

"Swimming" you answer hastily, trying not to think on Pedro wearing tight little swimsuits, as you've only seen him wearing swim trunks.

"Okay, that's dissapointing. Please continue"

"I participated in which play while I was in highschool? Hamlet, The Iliad or Much Ado About Nothing"

You doubt he remembers. The only time it ever came up, was when you visited your parent's house and a photography of you during said play was showed to him by your dad.

"The Iliad, right?" you laugh. The answer is wrong: It's Hamlet. "What? I swear it was that one! It's just you have very..." beautiful is at the tip of his tongue but he refrains himself, "...very greek features"

You can't help but laugh.

"Why of course! This is a face people go to war for"

"I agree" your heart skips a beat, "but I don't think I'll make it that far, if we talk about a war"

"You big fat liar!" you slap his arm playfully. "You've played all sort of characters, from soldiers of all nationalities and places, and like, superheroes, f*****g Joel Miller, even a DEA agent. You at least learned something!"

"Wow, slow down, this isn't a filmography recount" he jokes. Liar, you mouth to the cameras. "Okay, last one: I became a viral sensation for eating what type of sandwhich in LADbible's snack wars: BLT, PB&J, grilled cheese"

You remember the video fondly. Even your brother had sent it to you, along a text that said: Isn´t this your husband?

"PB&J, I win!" you cheer, instantly getting off the chair to do a celebratory dance. Pedro doesn't say anything, just throwing the cards away while the fondness of his eyes betrays him.

pyramiidsf: i want someone to look at me the way pedro looks at y/n mybritishstyle: guys they're just friends 😭 he's like that with all his female co-stars ㅤㅤann-gell: mybritishstyle me when i'm delusional af mandoshoney: where's that girl that's always betting her grandma??? SHE WAS RIGHTFLKRGJ

"Hello, I'm Paul Mescal. I'm here with my friends from the cast of Gladiator II" Connie and you both raise your palms to greet the camera, laughing when you realized you'd done it at the same time, "and we are going to play a game about how well we know each other for Vanity Fair" the irish man introduces the interview you're filming today.

"Did they prompt you?" Pedro speaks up, "or did you just make that up on the fly?"

You laugh a bit too loud, hoping they cut it off in the editing process.

Paul goes first, taking up a card with the first question written on it.

"Okay. Question: What's my least favorite day of the week?"

"Tuesday" answers Joseph once Paul is done reading. "Oh, you're writing it down?"

"Yeah" he answers.

"You just wrote Tuesday" Connie points out, Paul's card on his legs. You laugh along the rest.

"Yeah" he repeats laughing. "I actually, when you said Tuesday" Yeah, he said Tuesday Pedro adds on the background of laughter. "I was like...I'm gonna give everybody a point for that"

"I think I deserve a point for being observant" Connie complains.

Everyone gets a point and Paul moves towards the next question.

"What was the name of my character in Normal People?"

"Connell" both you and Joseph answer, looking at each other before squinting your eyes playfully.

"Callum" Pedro answers out loud at the same time, and you laugh. He clearly had slept when you played it for a re-watch last summer.

"No, you're out" Paul pokes Pedro next to him.

"Connel" Joseph repeats, and Fred agrees to the same answer.

Paul then asks Connie what's hers after he confirms you three.

"Connor?" she asks, confused.

"Incorrect. Three points" while pointing you three.

"You got wrong" he tells Pedro, "Callum's a different character"

"See? You just don't pay attention when you watch things" you blurt out, stopping yourself before adding the with me. It would be harder to come back from that, but so is this as everyone looks at you, even your husband, subtle panic in his eyes. Where the cameras this close? How long had you been silent?

"It's just, quick funny story" you improvise. "Pedro didn't know much about Paul's career, and as I am a fan, I took the time to show him and recommend him your stuff" Paul smiles. "Clearly, my fanatism didn't rub on Pedro but a girl can try"

He laughs, before saying "So the answer is Connell" and you try so hard to remain normal like the energy hasn't shifted.

"He only plays characters with the letter C in the name" Pedro jokes, chewing on a toothstick he seemingly pulled out of nowhere. More laughs follow, and you are so grateful for how he's handling your little metida de patada.

"What's number one on my bucket list?" he asks next, "and don't look at my answer"

The marker is the only sound to be heard, and then Pedro jokingly tries to take a peek.

"No peeking" Connie berates as Pedro laughs.

"You're not gonna be able to see that" Paul replies in an anyways tone.

You repeat the same joke, before Fred blocks you. "Not you too!"

Paul finishes after a while, Connie commenting it was long. Joseph raises his hand.

"Yes, Joseph"

"Is it to see the Great Wall of China?" he asks.

"No, but it's in that-"

"It's close, isn't it?" you interrupt.

"...family of thought" he finishes.

"It's to go and see something" Pedro points out.

"Okay. Rajasthan" tries Connie. "Go to Rajasthan, for a tour"

"Travel to South America" Paul interrupts with the correct answer, "I've never been to South America"

"I'm from South America" Pedro comments, never missing a chance to shout out his dear Chile.

Paul jokes about him getting three points while the rest of you laugh.

"I was born in South America. 17 points for Pedro"

"I want points too" you jump on the joke. "I know Spanish, so I can take you there and avoid you getting lost, mi querido amigo"

"But who was born there?" Pedro counters, "you get no points"

"I think Joseph is the only person who gets a point there" Paul adds, "because everybody just jumped on the bandwagon"

"He said to visit the Great Wall of China" Pedro protests, "which is nowhere near South America"

"It really is not" Connie agrees.

"Qué gente tan tramposa" you complain. "That's unfair. I remove my offer"

"Think about bucket list, and he came up with travel to bit" he tries to reason Joseph's point.

"And by the way, where in South America?" Pedro questions.

"Don't fight, don't fight" pleads Joseph, the calm one. Fred just sits there, enjoying the chaos.

"I want, any, I want to do a big tour of everywhere" Mescal defends himself.

Pedro doesn't back down. "'Cause it's very different"

Paul starts to get angry too. Jesus, men. Competitive men of it all.

"I know it's very different" making an annoyed face.

"Well, different is nice" you intervene, a hand placing in Pedro's left shoulder. "If you stop giving points for free, I'll come with you to the big everywhere tour"

"Alright" Paul agrees. "When's my birthday?" is the next question.

"February" all of you say.

Joseph struggles with the date first, saying seventh, then fourth. Fred tries with ninth, Pedro with eight, and then Joseph starts counting from one to two. Fred counts from eleven to twelve.

"Second" Mescal reveals. "Point to Joseph"

"Oh my God, you guys are good" Connie mentions.

"That's all my questions" and it's time to move on the next one: which happens to be your dear husband, Pedro.

"Paul is like" he brings up while the toothpick dances on his teeth, "Paul is motivated to catch up on points. He's coming for you" to pick on his competitive side as Mescal looks deep in thought.

"He's coming. He's coming" Joseph repeats as Fred laughs.

"What is my full name?"

"Oh! Pedro-" Paul tries in a blink. "Something, J? Jose? Juan?"

"Pedro Pascal, something, something" says Joseph.

"Nope"

"No?"

"Pedro Maria, Jose Maria Pascal" Paul struggles.

Pedro is about to answer when your voice cuts through the air.

"It's José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite.

"It indeed is!" he says, smiling a bit too much. "She gets a point"

"Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" your husband repeats in a more english-friendly pronunciation, looking at the camera while toying with his toothpick.

"I said Jose, I said Jose" Paul protests.

Pedro shakes his head. "You said Jose, but then you put it-"

Connie takes Paul's side. "You did say Jose"

"But then you put it behind Pedro which eliminate- which disqualified you" he replies.

Paul gets angry. That sore looser.

"That's absolute bullshit"

"Don't worry mate, the game has just begun" you joke, making the man more irritated. "Think you can get ahead of me?"

"Joseph is still ahead, y/n" Paul counters, still irritated. "Besides, wouldn't it be cheating? You can speak Spanish!"

"So? Not like speaking a language allows you to know every person's name Paul" you mock. He just snorts, despite still being half angry. Pedro is allowed to continue, trying not to make a face at yours and Paul's banter.

"The question is, who is my favorite actor?" he reads. As the cast members laugh, he uncaps the marker with his mouth, and now you have to try not to make a face, thinking about those teeth sinking into your flesh.

Quinn raises his hand. "It's me"

"That you're my favorite actor?"

"Yeah. You said that to me once" the bald man sounds sure of it.

Paul tries to think in the background. So do you. How can you not know this? he must've brought it up at least once.

"Do you remember?" Joseph insists.

Pedro finally remembers. "I said you were- I said I thought you were special"

"Oh" he sounds rather dissapointed.

"And special can mean a lot of things" he jokes, laughing by himself. Fred laughs with you as Joseph makes a face, your laughter turning even louder when you notice Paul all moody, trying to get this point.

"Who's your favorite actor?" Paul asks, "I think we just have to shoot from the hip here guys"

"Marlon Brando?" Connie guesses.

"Is it Harrison Ford?" Fred guesses.

"Let's go with Harrison Ford just because he's my favorite actor..."

You can't believe you didn't know this. You've re-watched and watched so many Star Wars content together. He gives you a brief look, knowing you're embarrased at your lack of answer.

"As a kid?"

"He's most influent, yeah" Pedro agrees.

"What job did I have before I became a full-time actor?" is next.

"Dancer. You were a great dancer" Paul aswers. Both Fred and Joseph repeat it, adding he was specifically a go-go dancer.

"Oh, he is" you add. "Videos of you dancing are lovely. Ever thought of getting back in the bussiness?"

He laughs, what appears to be a light blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Sure, darling. When you ask me to dance, I'll be there"

Nobody comments on this, too busy waiting for Pedro to say yes or no to the answer they believe to be right. But he isn't saying it is. Now you remember why.

"Come on, come on, come on" Paul begs.

"Can any of you guys remember?" Pedro pleads.

They insist that he danced in Spain, then New York, then settle with Spain again, even Pedro confirming so. But it still isn't the answer written on the card, no matter how much the boys insist.

"Connie?" he tries. She just looks confused.

"The answer in the card is-"

"Waiter" you answer. "You were a waiter"

Now you have three points under your belt.

"Why do you always say the answer at last?!" Paul grumbles. "You are cheating!"

"I'm not" you laugh the accusation off. "You just can't accept I'm better"

"Si que lo eres" Pedro agrees. "Es divertido hacer que se enoje Paul"

"What did you say about me? It's not fair, you're probably sharing the answers!" he's still adamant on insisting with the supposed cheating issue, making you laugh.

Now it's Connie's turn, who starts with: "How many languages do I speak?"

You put a puzzled look.

"You speak seven, eight maybe" Joseph guesses. Pauls says she speaks french, "but most likely seven"

Pedro points his finger at him. "Once he gets going, he's on a roll"

"Joe's got it" Connie agrees.

"Paul, end this reign" Pedro jokes. He looks rather frustrated.

"And the bonus points" Connie offers. "Okay, bonus, what are they?"

"This is an emperor's reign" your husband adds.

Joseph answers: Italian. Danish. English. Swedish. French. Spanish. Norwegian.

Connie agrees she speaks Spanish, making you jump in excitement.

"Oh, I didn't know that!" you beam. "Wait, does that mean you did get what Pedro and I gossiped about you?"

"What?" Joseph asks.

"Nada" you quickly correct yourself. "Yo no dije nada"

"Not that much. I just speak a bit of Spanish. I mostly dominate my own language, German and English"

"You blew our cover!" Pedro nags, hitting your bare leg, yet its devoid of anger.

"He needs a bonus" comments Connie, surprised at Joseph.

"This is horrifying" Pedro says when Joseph gets another point and a fricking bonus on top of that. "This is a slaughter"

"Oh, for which film did I have a gym built in my garage?"

Both Joseph and Paul answer the question correctly, saying Wonder Woman. The latter is quick to state they both get that point.

"That's one for me" Paul says, then looks at you. "And none for you"

You stick out your tongue at him as Connie reads the next card.

"If I were to take this cast on a vacation where would I take you?"

"Ibiza" answers Joseph. Connie agrees in Spanish, with a cute and excited correcto.

Your husband feels the need to crack a joke at Quinn's expense.

"Somebody was paying attention to Connie Nielsen very closely during the shooting of this movie"

"Okay. What is my favorite curse word in Danish?"

"Fuck" Pedro tries.

"No"

"Nobody is going to get that, Connie" Paul bickers.

"Oh, I don't know any Danish" you lament.

"At least now you know how it feels" Mescal drops, making you snort. You playfully kick him on the ribs with your shoe.

"It's very simple" Connie gives as a clue. "It's the same word in every language"

"Shit" Paul tries.

"Satan" she reveals.

Everybody is laughing in confusion at that, saying there's no way you could use that.

"Vos Satan!" Connie curses.

Now it's Fred's turn.

"What is my weirdest on-set habit?"

"I haven't noticed you do anything weird on set" Paul tells.

"I have" Pedro interrupts.

They all get on a small briefing about what could it possibly be, that it was weird, and wasn't part of his character, as you ponder. It was funny before, but now Paul is behind you by a point. So think fast.

"Yeah. I would say being yourself" Pedro jokes, but surprisingly, it works.

"Me! Five points for Pedro" he celebrates as you all laugh. "Love Fred. Oh, Fred"

"Oh, oh, okay" he moves to the next question. "What is my favorite reality TV show?"

Joseph tries with Survivor and Paul with Alone. Truth is, you don't watch any show of said kind, only vagely hearing about Love Island.

"You and I have talked about reality TV" Pedro reveals, "It's just that we never identified one"

They keep guessing shows that sound like a foreign language to you.

"You know what's offensive? That I'm the second youngest of this cast and I have no idea what are you all talking about"

"She's not to be trusted" Pascal quips, "can't trust someone who doesn't appreciate the art of reality TV"

You huff, annoyed.

"Is it A&E stuff?" Pedro asks.

"Yeah, it's the competitive cheapskates" Fred answers. "It's people that really save money on everything"

Pedro gets the point because he mentioned the A&E bit.

"There's like this amazing guy that made a stew out of fish bones, and I just thought it was incredible" he shares. Then, moves to the next question. "What is my go-to crafty snack?"

Nobody remembers eating snacks on set, and Fred gives the clue that it's a drink. Joseph says it's a smoothie, and he does remember it but it isn't the answser.

"I'm thinking of something specific. That Emerge-C that you put in the water"

"Oh, that's very good" you agree, so does the rest, even discussing the best colors

"Who in the cast would I ask to bail me out of jail?"

Everyone even Pedro agree its him. Everyone gets a point, yet Joseph remains ahead.

It's Joseph's turn. "What is my favorite sport?"

"Skateboarding" Paul is so quick to answer, earning him two points for both being correct and time.

"What celebrity do I get mistaken for?"

"Daisy Edgar-Jones sometimes" says Mescal. Of course he had to bring her up.

"No, she gets mistaken for me" Joseph jokes. "Yeah, poor Daisy. But I'm writing it down"

"That was the two letters?" Pedro notices. Still, no one gets it.

It's fucking Justin Timberlake. You'd never guess that.

"What is my favorite film franchise?"

You've probaly named all the existing franchises to no avail. You think fo your dad, a huge geek, trying to remember if there is one missing.

"Oh- Lord of the Rings!" you both answer with Paul at the same time.

"C'mon!" his celebration is short lived when he realizes you tied to him.

"What is my favorite British slang word?"

Pedro says it can't be said, but Quinn insists they can, even adding it's his favorite one too.

"We can say bad words? We can say-?" but the camera beeps over it.

The answer is Bellend. What even is that? Joseph feigns sadness and Pedro keeps apologizing, even as you sit on the chair.

"Okay. I'm last"you wiggle your eyebrows with interest. "Let's see. Okay, first question: what did I take from the Gladiator II set?"

"You took something?" Joseph asks on disbelief.

"Why wouldn't I take something?"

"Is it like an item or memorabilia?" asks Connie.

"It's an item" you uncap the marker, scribbling down the answer.

"It's a short word" Fred points out, but still can't provide a guess.

"You took the rings home" Pedro answers. You snap your had on his way, probably obvious. "What? You told me" he says.

Of course Paul complains. "Hey, that isn't fair! He knew the answer before!"

"Well, if you payed more attention to me, you'd know it"

Lies. Pedro knows because it's sitting in the jewelry box inside your house.

"See? I do pay attention" Pedro playfully hits Mescal.

"I could pay you more attention" he looks at you.

"Alright, then do. Ready? Next question: what is my go-to movie? Oh, this is a good one. I'm always changing it, but most of the time I end up choosing the same one"

They all give you a puzzled look as you scribble.

"C'mon, guys! I've said it on interviews before too. Paul?" the man shrugs. "Thought you said you'd pay me more attention. Heads up, you're doing a terrible job so far!"

"Hey!" he protests. "It's not fair if the answer's changing. Give us a clue"

"You didn't give any clues to yours!" you giggle. "Besides, I don't want you to win"

"Hey, that's against the rules!"

"I'd say it depends on the season" Pedro speaks up. You quirk an eyebrow. "Like, if it's changing, I don't think your Christmas go-to movie is the same as your summer one"

"Actually" you smile fondly, "that is true. On summer, it's Mamma Mia. So I suppose, if you can't guess the one, that'll do"

"No" he smiles, cheeky. "I know it too"

"Yeah?" you challenge, "what is it, then?"

"It's Thelma and Louise" he answers, and your heart beats fast.

"How do you know?" Paul inquires. "Somebody was paying attention to Y/n L/n very closely during the shooting of this movie"

Ah, his joke from earlier. Joseph giggles behind him. Karma, he supposes.

"She said it on an interview, guys. C'mon, learn your sources!"

"Okay" you clear your throat. "What movie got me into acting?"

"Thelma and Louise" Joseph tries.

"No" you laugh, "you're just recycling the answer"

"Is it an old or modern movie?" Connie asks.

"Hmh, old" you pause, "just not... I don't know if you'll ever guess it"

"Is it a Pedro Almodóvar film?" you shake your head. "What? You're always mentioning him!"

Pedro looks into your eyes amid the others' discussion, and you can tell he remembers the conversation.

"There isn't one"

You smile, chest pounding at his soft tone.

"That's correct"

"A trick question?!" Paul yells. "I quit"

"When there's just one left?" you tease.

"Yes, because you've been hiding it all the time but no more" he counters, pointing both you and Pedro. You feel the space getting smaller, breaths going from even to noticeable. "You are sharing answers"

You try to make your breath of relief pass as a chuckle.

"I'm not even gonna win, relax. And drop the charges, please. Loose like a man"

"You didn't explain it though" Connie speaks. "What did Pedro mean?"

"While I have many movies that are inspiration to me, they aren't the reason I chose this path. I did it because I saw an Oscar's ceremony when I was 11" you explain fondly, feeling warm at the memories. "I still remember when they handed the award to Diablo Cody for best original screenplay. I don't know, man, it moved me. What it meant for young artists who came from nothing. I guess I wanted, one day, to be the one standing there, for other dreamers to see it's possible"

"Wow, that's beautiful" Connie says.

"Thank you" you get flustered. "Suppose it was worth it, you know, to do interviews about not really knowing my cast mates" and laugh.

"How does Pedro know, though?" Joseph asks.

"We talk a lot" you clear your throat. "Last one: what indie horror movie did I make a small appearence in? I'm feeling generous because it's the last so I'll give you a clue. It's a Stephen King adaptation"

Paul is the first to speak. "You where in a-"

"Yeah but it wasn't such a huge role. Don't make yourself any ideas"

"I have no idea" Connie surrenders. "Other clue, as in how many words?"

"It doesn't even have any words" you laugh. "You give up? It's 1922. Was an extra as well. Made me think Netflix had my name highlighted in the extra call sheet, because I did so many minor and background roles during that year. Grateful, though, because now I get to be Rome's empress and not fortune teller or highschool #6"

The interview ends, and the camera may or may have not captured the last seconds, Pedro's gaze fixated with you the entire time.

elysyannemimi: we all saw that right? GET PEDRO AND Y/N IN A ROMCOM ❗THEIR CHEMISTRY IS INSANE❗ at0michips: love paul and y/n so much 😭😭 gimme enemies to lovers RN ㅤㅤbobgirllll: at0michips wait what if paul and y/n are secretly dating 😳 ㅤㅤann-gell: bobgirllll quick question are u dumb unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they're married. it has to be. trust me ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess BESTIE U ARE BACK

You arrived in London today. The premiere will be in a few days, and things have been, well, hectic.

Lux couldn't stop talking all the plane ride, but your mind kept going back at the email your manager had sent you before you had boarded the plane.

It's catching upon you, read the haunting message. Attached below, a TMZ article that claimed a regular church attendee had seen you both getting married. It also used a lot of the noise fans had been making on social media, connecting dots or just hyping up the undeniable chemistry. It ended with a little paragraph saying it was obvios, and they're just hoping you'd confirmed it.

You came to realize you didn't care about it anymore. Sure, the pushing around annoyed you, but the thought of still keeping your marriage under wraps feels pointless now. Why wouldn't you shout to the world how in love with your husband you are?

Yet, when you arrive at the hotel, you keep the same protocol of arriving after Pedro, who has already checked in with two keys, claiming its for him and his sister, while you ask for the key to Lux's actual room. After you swipe cards with her, you head over the room you'd be sharing with your husband.

His face appears in your frame, everything happening quickly.

"Get inside. Now"

Your body is dragged inside the hotel room, not even giving you time to swipe the key for yourself.

"Pedro!" you exclaim, between surprised and confused. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Did you read it?"

"What? The article?" your tone is filled with annoyance. "Yes, I did. Why?"

"What do you mean why?" he snaps, voice raising higher. "Don't play dumb with me. You know fans have fuelled the rumors, and tabloids have started digging every corner in fucking California"

"So, what? You're acting as if people finding out is the worst thing in the world" you roll your eyes.

"It is, yes!" Pedro bursts out, caving in to the stress.

It feels like you've been hit across your face.

"Excuse me?" you seethe, hurt etched all across your features. "Would it be the worst thing in the world to admit you're married to the person you supposedly love the most?"

"I love you, y/n. It's just-"

His voice softens, trying to reach for you, yet you pull back, his hand falling to his side in an akward manner. He sighs in frustration, running a hand through his hair as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"I love you" he repeats, sounding much more sure this time.

Your frame seems smaller as your voice comes out hoarse, filled with emotion, appearing to be in the brink of tears:

"Then why do you act like you're embarrassed of me?"

He hates himself for making you feel this way, making you think things that aren't true.

"I don't. Never" he emphasizes. Then, tries to reach once again when you move a little bit closer to him, recognizing that's your way of letting him know you're ready. "You're the most precious thing in the world to me, don't ever think the opposite" then he sighs, heavy. "I'm just scared"

You silently ask him to explain, rubbing his thumb soothingly across his tattoo.

"You're so young, and I'm, well- I know we're aware of it, but people are cruel and the press is ruthless. I don't want to see your name dragged across the mud because you decided to marry me. Your career is starting, and I'd never forgive myself is something happened to you because of me. Not trying to make this about me, yeah? But this industry is fucked up. You've work hard to get to where you are, and it'll be unfair if you'd loose it. I'm scared because us..." he wavers, words trailing off. "I want us to be. I wouldn't want to live in a world without you, i-it would kill me not to have you be my wife"

You desperately want to kiss off the worry on his face, but let him finish.

"N-not saying our love is weak, or anything! That a couple of opinions or tabloids will- you know? Just, I-I don't want them to break us apart. Mi vida, you're the light of my life. Please, forgive me, I-"

He feels his throat closing up, words failing to come out. You sense the grip on your hand to be stronger, immediately letting loose of it.

"Hey. C'mere" your voice is tender, allowing him to bury his face in your stomach as you comb his messy curls with your fingers. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere"

He lets himself melt under your touch, his mind loosing itself in the soft of your digits and your perfume up his nostrils. He's again breathing normaly, hands now hugging your waist.

"There you go. Better?" Pedro nods, still not being able to talk. "That's okay, take all the time you need. We have all day"

"Do we?" he raises his view, his eyes soft yet there is something else to the brown shade.

You hum as to nod. "We agreed to join Lux for dinner. It's barely 1pm"

"Tell me you're thinking it too" his voice cuts throughout the air, boucing off the tapestry on the walls.

You laugh, nervously. "I don't think I do"

"Hmmh, I see" he stands up, towering over you. "You sure you don't?"

"You sure you want this?"

Before you know it, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, cutting off all words to be said. What a waste of air, anyway. You are quick to reciprocate, whimpering against his lips.

Pedro picks you up like you're as light as a feather, his arms flexing as he carries you and places you on the bed, frame hovering over yours. He breaks the kiss to breath, but you're pulling him back in, his hold on your hips tighter and the wet spot in your panties wetter.

"Look at you, pretty baby. So needy" he whispers against your face, hot breath lingering above your lips. "And mine. Mía. Only mine"

"I am, yes. Yours only. Need you so bad right now, papi" you answer in a rush. "Now shut up and fuck me"

"Con gusto" he chuckles darkly, "gotta keep the wife happy"

"Happy wife, happy life" you recite, stripping him off of his plain shirt, revealing his toned torso, bulging biceps defined by the movements. You gulp. "Fuck, papi. Gotta thank Marvel for this. I love all of your versions, but I can work with this too" you dreamily stare at him, your hands cupping his face.

He strips the rest of his clothing, but a cute blush adorns his cheeks.

"Yeah, well, it's Scott's fault too"

Your impatient fingers reach the middle of your panties to rub your clothed pussy, letting out a sound that darkens his hazel orbs.

"Fuck that guy" you mutter. Pedro laughs.

"Thought you said you loved the guy"

"Until I learned what he said about your body" you groan, still rubbing. "Connie told me"

His hands now travel to remove your clothes, almost ripping them off.

"Who cares? I just want to fuck you now" he breathes out, practically drooling at the sight of your damp panties. "Lemme take this off too"

He unhooks your bra, seeing the hard nipples. The urge to lick them is so bad, but his desire to fill you silly to the brim is stronger.

You see his hesitation, which is why you grab him by the neck to pull him in for a kiss. He kisses back fiercely, labored breaths as he struggles to focus on your lips, his wet mouth darting to your jaw, neck and collarbones. His hands roam all over your body, needy.

"Gotta be inside of you, mami. Can't wait any longer"

"Then stop waiting" you plead, tugging at his boxers with urgency.

Seeing you so cockhungry, lips parted and pupils blown wide makes his hard dick twitch with anticipation.

He mutters a labored fuck, aligning himself to enter your sticky folds. Pedro enters your tight pussy with a low groan, burying himself deep inside of you, used to his length by now. You're basically begging for it, nails digging and eyes supplicating.

He can't deny you anything, can he?

A messy whine leaves your widened mouth as you adjust, pleasure mixed with pain.

"Mhmm" you moan.

"Mhmm what?" he mocks. "You asked for it. Now take it, cariño"

He thrusts deeper into you, watching in awe how his dick enters your pussy; it was always perfectly, your pussy made for him.

"You're drippin' baby" his rough voice caresses your cheek. He kisses the are, giving a lick to the sweat starting to form. "S'fucking tight too"

You move your hips towards him, trying to augment the friction. The overstimulation starts to cloud your sense, reducing you to a whiny mess as you grip his steady arms.

"I can't think of anything but you, baby" he confesses between grunts, "filling up your pussy to the brim, you dripping with my seed for days"

You moan at the filthy words.

"Love how you take my dick, amor" stretching you as Pedro moves in and out. "S'made for me"

"Yes" you moan, skin slapping sounds bouncing off the walls. "Fuck, I love your dick..."

His pace picks up, and it comes to a point where he's just fucking you silly, his grip on your hips surely to leave a bruise as you keep spilling obscene sounds of pleasure from your lips.

"Your pussy's mine, yeah? No one else gets to have you like this"

"N-no, just you, Pedro. My h-husband" you manage to squeeze, more moans vocalizing the pleasure you felt with each thrust, his big dick inside of you moving in a a steady rhythm, making your eyes roll back further and orgasm closer.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust, and he finds impossible to resist the urge anymore, licking the sensible skin and hard nipples, your hands moving to his back, scratching him harshly, both chasing your release.

"Please!" you whine out loud, not caring how desperate you sound.

Harder. Faster. Rougher.

But your husband knows you, so he indeed starts to fuck you harder, heavy breaths and slippy kiss noises hanging in the spaces between each thrusts. He pants with every motion of his dick, a knot forming on his belly.

"Shit, baby. I think I'm gonna cum. Gonna come so hard"

"Do it. I'm on birth control, remember?" you groan, feeling your high approach as well. "Fill me up, please. Give me all your cum"

Your bodies move as one, precise thrusts hitting exactly that sweet spot of yours repeatedly, chasing your orgasm. For a brief moment, your eyes lock with his and then he's saying:

"I love you, y/n. So much"

Your heart skips a bit, his dick twitching inside as his gaze glimmers with adoration and possesiveness, teeth grazing your skin with marks for him to call you his.

"I love you too, Pedro. More than you know"

A final thrust is delivered. Fuck, feels so good you think you hear him say. Just like promised, he fills you with his release, shots of his thick, warm cum inside your sticky walls. You follow soon, back arching, toes curling, and both head and eyes rolling back. Pedro falls on top of you, his broad body collapsing over yours, as you both pant hard, trying to steady your pulse and breath. He then removes himself and positions you to be the one on top now, lazily throwing the covers over your bare bodies. We need to shower, you said, but he argued you'd do it later before going out.

"I needed that" and you happily hum in agreement at your husband's dragged out words.

Your head falls and rises, with the movement of his chest, silence settling on the previously filled with sex noises room. That until he speaks up:

"One day, I'm gonna fill you up so good until you have my babies, mami" he murmurs, just then realizing what he said. But you snuggle closer, hand and legs drapped over his bare body. You look at him closely, seeing nothing but certainty on his eyes.

I choose you. I'll always choose you.

"Whatever it is with you" your nose brushes his, a small sweet kiss on his lips, "I want"

His eyes shine, probably with tears or the glow of affection.

"Let's do it"

"What?" you look into his eyes for any sign of doubt, bull all you see is love. "Pedro, are you serious?"

He nods. "Wouldn't you want that?"

You feel the corner of your lips pull up.

"Never have I wanted anything more"

poppysplayground: Y/N AND PEDRO RED CARPET DEBUT AT THE LONDON PREMIER OF GLADIATOR II WTF I JUST WOKE UP ptwt is in SHAMBLES mostannoyingbillioner: UM HELLO pedro showing up with two hot women on his arms LUX GIMME A CHANCE pompeiianbollockr: WAIT WDYM THEY ARE MARRIED?!??! ALL THIS TIME?@?#? HOW???! NEED BIGGER CAPS TO SCREAM I'M GOING INSANE at0michips: that article better come out now or i'll burn the TMZ building ann-gell: not me thirsting for a married man 😭😭😭 how they kept this a secret for so long?? we should've noticed ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: ann-gell i did. knew betting my grandma was the way all along ㅤㅤpyramiidsf: i'm gonna start betting my grandma too

[percheduphere]

LET'S TALK ABOUT "HE'LL MAKE IT BACK"

Special thank you to @mmobiuses, @starrose17, and @stevenrogered whose gifs make-up the lion's share of this post. Thank you to all the other amazing gif artists as well, without you, my metas won't be possible.

This might come as a surprise to a lot of people, but I actually wasn't big on Lokius until Season 2. I thought Loki and Mobius made a cute ship in Season 1, but that was the extent of it. In truth, I lost interest in the Loki series by the S1 finale and had 0 interest in watching S2. I didn't give the series another try until I saw positive reviews on Tumblr. I therefore started watching S2 when S2E4 dropped.

LOKI SEASON 1

Enjoying the potential love story between two characters is a deeply personal and subjective experience. So take what I say as my personal experience observing Loki and Mobius's relationship.

I fully believed Mobius loved Loki in S1 in the platonic sense. Tom Hiddleston has given a few interviews on Loki's and Mobius's relationship and seems to believe in this sentiment as well [see 5:30-7:30 and 10:57-11:00]).

That is to say, in S1, I didn't feel, "Oh, my god ... he loves him." It was more, "Yes, he loves him", there is no question, his actions prove it.

There is wiggle-room for unrequited love in the S1E4 interrogation scene, but the jealousy Mobius exhibited could have just as easily been a combination of anger on behalf of his murdered colleagues and platonic jealousy.

However, I felt the first hint of unrequited love from Mobius occurred during his goodbye scene with Loki in S1E5. Specifically, this look:

I had no expectations for that look to pay off in any way. Season 2 surprised me.

LOKI SEASON 2

S2E1 is amazing episode because, through subtext, it reframes how Mobius's S1 emotions may be interpreted with stronger evidence for romantic motivation. In this episode, there appears to be a subtle, gradual build-up to the moment that Mobius's love for Loki may be viewed as fully romantic. Let's break down the episode and look at the progression:

First, learning that Loki is at the TVA: *sigh* I can't find the "Loki's here?" gif.

Second, and perhaps the most infamous, the reunion and whole-body support Mobius provides Loki in the TVA War Room (physical comfort):

Third, Mobius bringing Loki somewhere safe and quiet, assuring him that "it's okay" (emotional comfort):

Fourth, Mobius insisting that Loki's condition must be fixed, not once but twice, in two different scenes. A third (writer's magic 3s!) instance occurs in the Heart of the TVA, just before the gangway scene (prioritizing the other):

Fifth, Mobius's admission that Loki's timeslipping looks horrible, and he can't look at it anymore. He repeatedly stresses to Loki how serious this is (emotional and physical empathy):

Sixth, Mobius taking Loki to exact right person who can help. This is particularly significant, because Mobius is the only person in MCU canon who has verbally expressed concern for Loki's physical well-being and took immediate action to stop the pain (act of service):

Seventh, the third time Mobius prioritizes Loki's wellbeing. He scolds Loki and reminds him they have only one shot at getting his timeslipping corrected before the temporal radiation becomes too high (prioritizing the other):

Eighth, Mobius interrupting Loki, insisting that he will make it back. The subtext here is that no other outcome is acceptable or thinkable for Mobius (emotional comfort):

Finally, Ninth, the clincher: "He'll make it back." (self-comfort)

This scene is everything to me. Moments 1 through 8 build-up to this singular moment. Let's do a micro-analysis on it.

After Loki timeslips, the camera stays on Mobius. It tracks him as he kneels down to pick-up the time sick, the last thing Loki touched. The camera then pans up as Mobius rises.

@stevenrogered, THANK YOU for this gifset. It's literally the only one I could find that captures the camera tracking Mobius after Loki disappears, and this is my all-time favorite Mobius scene.

Mobius stands for a moment, motionless, and the camera holds on his facial expression. He's staring at where Loki WAS for extended period of time (keep this in mind for later). He's holding his breath. He's worried, scared, and hopeful, not for himself and the danger he faces on the gangway, but for Loki.

Finally, he exhales as he says to himself, "He'll make it back".

This entire sequence--particularly the moment when Mobius picks-up the time stick and holds it in silence--made me feel, "Oh ... Oh ... he loves him."

The camera stays with Mobius, capturing his reaction to this high-stakes situation for a significant amount of time (@loki-us, maybe you can get this timed starting from the moment Loki disappears and Mobius starts to kneel to pick-up the time stick?). Cinematographers don't do this type of hold unless they want to illicit a strong emotion from the audience regarding the character we are focusing on in the moment.

My insides swooped, which rarely ever happens when I view film or television.

And this camera hold, this pregnant pause, is mirrored by Loki's stare in S2E5:

[insxghtt]

reschedule — bella ramsey x reader

All you wanted was to go back in time.

warnings: hurt/comfort. i used they/them pronouns for bella (bc i see that it's what pedro uses) and it was kind of difficult bc english is not my first language so if i got anything wrong i apologize. also bella said that they don't rlly care abt pronouns so i guess if i use she/her or he/him is ok right? idk let me know in the comments.

this was based on two requests: "hi babe can you write bella ramsey x reader where reader and bella are in a relationship but reader believes bella will leave them and bella reassures reader that they love them sm" / "bella and reader have a massive fight and reader thinks it’s a breakup but then bella comes and they makeup?"

You and Bella had been together for three years and not even once you doubted that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with them. Bella was everything you’ve ever wanted. They were kind, funny, beautiful, and most importantly, they always made sure to make you feel loved. 

You knew how important their career was to them and you respected that. The Last of Us was a huge success and Bella was out a lot, doing interviews and even getting new jobs. You were so proud of them and just seeing that sparkle in their eyes was enough to make you forget any problem you had going on. 

Well, you had a few problems going on. You just released your second book and the book launch was awesome, except for a little detail. Bella wasn’t there. 

It’s okay, you thought. They were busy with work. It happens. But just because it happens doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt a bit. Especially when you found out that they didn’t show up because of an interview. Interviews can be rescheduled. Especially when it was someone like Bella. Pedro rescheduled an interview two times a while ago just because his sister needed some help with the children. He said that family always comes first. 

It was your second book. You had been writing it for two years, working every single detail of it. It was a big deal. Maybe she didn’t see you as family, you thought. That was when all the problems became to appear. All your insecurities, all your internal conflicts. You spent the whole book launch overthinking every part of your relationship. 

When you got home, you knew Bella would be there. They had your key and asked if they could go to your place after the interview. You said yes, of course. Didn’t matter if you were slightly hurt, you just wanted to be with them. 

“Hey! How was it?”, Bella smiled when they saw you walk inside the apartment. 

“It was good”, you smiled back and gave them a big hug. “I missed you so much.” 

Bella laughed at how muffled your voice was because of the way your face was hidden on the curve of their neck. “I missed you too, darling.” 

You let them go and they gave you a quick kiss. “I’m hungry. And really, really, tired.” 

“I know. It’s why I ordered some pizza”, they pointed to the box on the center table in front of the couch. 

“Oh, you’re the best!”, you throwed your body on the comfortable couch and sighed. “Is it pepperoni?” 

“Yes...”, they sat next to you and grabbed one piece, giving it to you. 

“Thank God... I mean, I know you’re like, a hater of meat eaters, but...” 

“I’m not a hater!” 

“You are kind of a hater. It’s why I appreciate this”, you grabbed the slice of pizza. 

Bella grabbed one slice of the other pizza, the one without meat, and looked at you. You two smiled at each other and toasted the slices before eating it. 

The time went by and considering how hungry the two of you were, it didn’t take long for the pizza to disappear. Between one bite and another, you told Bella about the event. You told everything, like you wanted them to see it. You really wanted them to see it. And when Bella realized it, they felt terrible for not being there. 

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” 

“You already said that”, you laughed and held their hand. 

You were with your head laid on their shoulder and you felt them kissing your hair. 

“No, I mean it.” 

You raised your head to look at Bella. “It’s fine, you were working.” 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“No!”. 

You were a little mad, but it would pass. There was no reason to ruin that moment with a stupid argument. They were sorry, that’s all that mattered to you. 

“At least you read my book, it’s more than what my own mother did, so...”, you joked. 

But Bella didn’t laugh. In fact, they gulped. 

“You read it, right?” 

The response was the silence. All the walls you used to hide how disappointed you were collapsed right there. 

“You didn’t even read my book?”, you dropped their hand. 

“I was going to...” 

“I gave it to you, like, a month ago.” 

“I was going to read it, I swear! It’s just that there were so many things going on that I...” 

“Oh my God”, you stood up from the couch. “You really don’t care, do you?” 

“What?”, they stood up as well. “Of course I do!” 

“Yes, of course you do, but never as much as you care about your own work!” 

Both of you were angry now. Bella was feeling offended. It wasn’t like they were terrible all the time, Bella was always doing the best to make you happy. 

“Are you kidding me?” 

“No, Bella, it’s just the truth.” 

“Imagine if I told you that every time you say no when I invite you to an event, how would you feel?” 

“It’s different, Bella. You’re great at what you do.” 

“And so are you!” 

“It’s not the same thing!”, you yelled. “People love you. You’re successful.” 

“So what? You want me to not be good at my job?” 

“No, damnit! What I'm trying to tell you is that we’re different. You’re on, like, a thousand tv shows”, you pointed at her and then at yourself. “My biggest achievement was a book written three years ago and after that, all I do is sit and watch while the world around me continues to move.” 

Bella stood silent, waiting for you to finish with tears in their eyes. 

“The one thing that kept me going was this stupid plot I had in my mind during a shower, a stupid plot that I worked so fucking hard for two years. You were there, you saw it! I fucking cried myself to sleep wondering if I would ever do anything good again”, you dried your tears with the sleeve of your sweater. “And I finally did it! I did it, and it’s so good, and I wanted you to be there so you could see how good I am. I wanted to give you a reason to be proud of me!” 

When you were done talking, Bella didn’t say anything. They didn’t even look at you. 

“I think I should go”, they said. 

“You’re going to leave? Really?” 

“I just...”, they sighed. “I need to be alone now.” 

Bella gave you no time to say anything. They grabbed their bag that was on the corner table next to the door and left. 

“Yeah, that is really fucking mature, Bella!”, you yelled before the door was closed and they were gone. 

The morning after that night was awful. You and Bella never had a fight like that. You tried to call them 2 times since you woke up, but it was useless. At first, you thought they were asleep, that’s why they haven’t answer. But the day went by, the night came again, and they still gave you no answer. Talking to their mom, you found out where Bella was. 

“Locked in their room”, she said through the phone. 

“Okay, can I talk to them?”, you asked nervously. 

“Did you guys have a fight?” 

“Ah...”, you were not sure you wanted to talk about this. 

“Alright, you don’t have to tell me”, she calmed you down. “Bella asked me to say that they’re busy, if anyone called.” 

Shit, they were going to break up with you. 

“I though Pedro and Bella were supposed to be on a tv show today.” 

“Bella rescheduled.” 

Okay, so whatever Bella was doing, it was more important than you, apparently. 

“Oh...” 

Bella’s mom sighed. She knew the two of you enough to tell that something was off. 

“Honey don’t worry”, she said. “I’m sure you guys will figure this out.” 

It didn’t feel like it. 

“Okay”, you agreed. “Thank you, I'll try to call them again later.” 

“Bella loves you very much, you’ll be fine.” 

You thanked her again before hanging up. Not a second after that, you got a message from Pedro, answering one of your texts asking about Bella. 

“They didn’t say anything to me. Just that something came up and that it was urgent, so we had to reschedule the interview.” 

You couldn’t stop a tear from rolling down your cheek as you typed. 

“I think they’re gonna break up with me” 

Pedro was fast to answer that one. 

“Bella is crazy for you. Shut up.” 

You let out a sad laugh. Pedro was so sure of it that you were a bit jealous of that confidence. Bella never did that before. Honestly, it felt like it was already done. You could imagine them coming to your apartment to pick up their stuff and you could see yourself begging for them to stay. Were you being dramatic? Maybe, but it felt real. 

You laid on your couch, curled up in a ball of blankets that smelled like Bella. It was funny how much you missed them, considering that you saw each other last night. But this was different, this time they didn’t say the ‘I love you’ that they always said before leaving. No, they said ‘I need to be alone’. 

That was it? Three years of relationship thrown away because of a book. 

The sound of the doorbell brough you back to earth in a flinch. You stood from the couch and stared at the door. What if it was them? You didn’t want to hear it right now. You couldn’t handle it. Not now. 

“I know you’re in there, the lights are on.” 

Shit. It was Bella. Trying to be silent, you reached for the light switch and turned it off. 

“Did you just turn the lights off?” 

“No...”, you answered, soon closing your eyes and hating yourself for being so fucking stupid. 

With no other options, you walked to the door and opened it. 

“Why did you kill him?”, Bella asked. 

They had dark circles around their eyes and on their hands, was the book you gave them. Your book. 

“What?”, you were still trying to process it. 

Bella entered the apartment without even asking. “Why did you kill him? Do you know how sick and twisted this is?!” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Your book!”, they pointed at it. 

You closed the door and continued to stare at them without having any idea of what was going on. “You read it?” 

“I read the first two pages last night and just couldn’t stop”, they said, gesticulating every word in excitement. “Why did you kill him? Do you know how much I cried?” 

And then you realized. She was talking about the main character on your book. 

“Well, I...” 

“I mean, do you have a problem with happy endings? This is the best book I've ever read, and you had to kill my favorite character?” 

You didn’t know what to say. “How did you finish it so fast?” 

“I was up all night.” 

Oh, so that’s why... 

“And you didn’t even think of, I don’t know, check your fucking phone?”, you yelled. “I thought you were going to break up with me!” 

Bella finally stopped talking and looked at you with confusion in their eyes. 

“Why would I break up with you? I love you.” 

You breathed in relief and closed your eyes. “You dumbass”, you whispered before wrapping your arms around their waist on a tight hug. 

Bella was still confused, but they hugged you back and ran their fingers through your hair. “I’m so sorry I made you think that.” 

You raised your head to look at them. With all the tenderness in the world, Bella touched your cheeks and kissed you on the lips. All the worries, all the sadness, it was all gone. When they pulled away, their arms were still around your neck and your faces were still close. 

“So that's what you were doing?”, you asked with the smile on your lips that Bella loved so much. They nodded. “And you cried?”, Bella nodded again. “Good.” 

Bella laughed and gave you another kiss. “I should’ve been there. And I should’ve read it the same day you gave it to me...” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Shut up, let me finish”, they interrupted, and you let out a laugh. “I am so proud of you. You’re so good at everything you do and this book...”, Bella sighed. “This book is just heartbreaking, perfect, sad, beautiful, thrilling...” 

“Yes, I got it”, you giggled, already blushing from so many compliments. 

“Exciting, original, sensational, fantastic...” 

“Okay!”, you covered their mouth with your hand. “You loved it, I get it.” 

Bella tried to say something, so you removed your hand. 

“Are we good?”, they asked. 

You answered it with another kiss. 

“Okay, I think we’re good”, Bella smiled. 

“Yes. Yes, we are.” 

[valiantphantomangel]

Captain purple

A/n: A big thank you to the anon who sent me a bunch of ideas, it was such a huge help! I hope y'all enjoy it!😊

You loved pranking your big brother, Steve.

Favorite past time ever and you had gotten good at it, if I do say so myself.

So when you get bored from your homework that was spread out over you desk you grabbed a bottle of purple hair dye (don't ask why you have that) and sneaked into Steve's rooms which was across the hall from yours.

Quiet like a mouse you tip toe into his bathroom and put the ENTIRE bottle of hair dye in his shampoo, you carefully put it back to where he placed it and ran into your room again.

After doing some homework (lies) you got a call to hang out with your friends so you quickly grabbed your jacket and shoes before running downstairs.

Just hearing the shower running in Steve's room.

"Hey Y/N your brother is on tv"! Your best friend Sarah called out (you can change this if this is your name) as you all were sitting in a cafe.

You turned around and nearly spat out your drink, Steve was giving an interview about the next moves for the avengers... With bright purple hair.

"Oh my god it was a permanent hair dye" you said before rolling with laughter, the caption under the interview said 'captain purple' which didn't help you laughter.

"I can't breathe"! Your friends called out over their laughter since they had met your brother multiple times.

"Oh I'm in so much trouble when I get home" you said with wide eyes as your laughing calmed down.

A few hours later you sneak back into the tower, hoping to avoid Steve but luck wasn't on your side.

Just as you unlock your room in the tower and walk in you see Steve standing there in the middle of the room with his arms crossed.

He would have been very intimidating.

If it wasn't for his bright purple hair.

You look at him with pursed lips trying not to laugh, but one more look at him got you giggling.

"You know I had to give a very serious speech on tv, yet no one took me seriously" Steve said as he walked over to you.

"I wonder why" you giggle as you look up at him.

"oh I'll give you something to laugh about" he said with a playful growl and ran towards you before throwing you over his shoulder.

"Steve put me down"!

He just chuckled and walked into the living room before throwing you gently on to the couch, sitting down on your thighs to keep you pinned.

"What are you doing?" You said confused as you looked up at him.

"Remember what I used to do when we were little and you were causing trouble around the neighborhood"? Steve asked innocently as he lightly traced your tummy.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, he couldn't possibly remember that, no absolutely not.

"Oh I see you remember" he said with a grin

"I'm not ticklish anymore stevEEKHIHI" you shrieked as he suddenly digged into your sides.

"Right, because that sounded convincing" He said sarcastic before looking at you with a smirk that could match Loki's.

"No don't you dareHIHIHIHI STOPHAHAH ITHIHIH" you burst out laughing and squirmed around trying to escape his ticklish fingers that danced over your ribs.

Steve laughed menacingly and leaned down to blow a raspberry in your neck, rubbing his beard over your neck.

You absolutely went mad with laughter and trashed around.

"DAMM YOU AHHHAHAHAHA"!!

"Language"

This went on forever until he decided to give you a breather and let you sit up.

"Now are you going to apologize?" He asked with a raised eyebrow as he got off of you.

"I'm sorryhihihi" you apologized through the remaining giggles.

You looked at him when you got your breath back and repeated it "I'm sorry... Captain Purple" you grinned before sprinting away.

"Get back here Y/N" Steve yelled and ran after you with a smile on his lips, he was so happy to finally spend time with his little sister and make up for the time you guys lost, like the big brother he is.

[i-heart-yellowstone]

41 - The Search for Faith Dutton

Part 42

Raised Fair Share of Hell

Please leave thoughts and comments below ❤️

Oil House 

Ainsley and her father Tommy were sitting on the couch staring at her computer before he got a call from his work and started his long day.  They had been working on their plan the second he had gotten home after dropping his son and girlfriend off at the man-camp.   

Tommy scanned his eyes over the computer screen pointing to the note that dealt with the Rodeo.  “When was she competing in the rodeo?” 

“It looks to be when she was high school age.  She won a few medals and even appeared on TV to do an interview.  Look here.” His daughter spun the computer more towards her father, hitting play on the YouTube video. 

The person doing the interview asked.  “So why do you do Rodeo, Ms. Dutton?” 

“I do it because it's fun.  Most people may think I do this for the awards but it's not true.  I don't really care if they think I'm the Rodeo Queen.” The girl in question appears to be 16 or 17 years old.  Hair in pigtails and a tan cowgirl hat on her head with a grin on her lips. 

Someone knocked on the front door causing the pair to pause their search looking at one another.  “Were you expecting someone?” 

“No, you?” Ainsley shook her head no. 

Her father ignored it and went back to tapping on the computer flipping through pictures of Faith posting with horses and some with a few other kids.  “Who are these people?  Friends or something?” The picture he clicked on was her standing with one boy and one shorter girl and a clear landscape of green and blue sky behind them. 

His daughter paused pointing her finger to the shorter girl wearing a cowgirl hat too big for her head it looked t9 be falling off.  “I'm guessing it's a younger sister.”  The little girl looks very close to Faith, but she has bright blonde hair and brown eyes. 

“And the boy?” Tommy asked. 

She shrugged her shoulders.  “Ex boyfriend maybe.” The boy had slightly darker brown hair than Faith but they had different eye color. 

“Why don't her parents have her boyfriend's phone number?” They heard a female voice ask outside the window.  You couldn't see inside because they had closed all the blinds. 

A male voice responds.  “Hell if I know why they don't.  I just got a call saying I need to check on her.  Are you sure this is the right address?’ 

“Yes.  I remember her saying the name Tommy when she left our room.  Plus she'd never cheat on Cooper.” 

Ainsley spun around on the couch carefully peeking through the curtains seeing a girl and an older looking cowboy standing at their front door.  “Daddy, there's strangers on our porch.  What do we do?” 

“Hide your computer in the bedroom and hide behind the kitchen counter.  I'll handle them.” She followed her father’s instructions quietly going up the stairs and coming back down and hiding but peeking around where she could see the interaction when he opens the front door.  “Can I help you two  - argh - fuck!” 

Tommy got shoved against the nearest wall by Travis who bared his teeth demanding answers from the oil man.  “Where is she?  Tell me where she is!” 

“Daddy!” Ainsley cried out from her hiding place. 

Caroline slowly walked into the rental house standing beside Travis giving a sad look.  “I'm sorry, Mr. Norris.  We're just looking for my roommate.” 

“Who’s your roommate?” Tommy coughed attempting to push one of the hands off his throat. 

“Faith Dutton.” Caroline replied. “Can you tell us where she is, please?” 

“You better not be holding her hostage here, asshole!” Travis snapped back at him. 

Ainsley rose from her hiding spot with tearful eyes.  “Please don’t hurt my daddy.  Daddy, tell them where you dropped my brother off.” 

“We just wanna make sure she's safe, Mr. Norris.” Caroline softly spoke. 

Tommy pushed on Travis's harsh grip, coughing out his answer in breaths. “They’re  - at the - mancamp.  Oh god -” 

“Take us there.” Travis released his grip and the old oil man collapsed onto the floor of his home trying to catch his breath. 

Tommy slowly got up from the floor and his daughter rushed over helping him stand since he didn’t have good balance.  “Fine but my daughter comes with me - fucking cowboy.” Travis nodded walking outside to his truck. 

“Sorry, I didn't know he was going to do that.” Caroline apologies following the cowboy and the pair outside to their trucks to go see her roommate. 

Dutton ranch  - Alissa’s pov 

It was nightfall on the ranch and we still hadn't heard anything from Travis on whether our daughter was safe or not.  My mother and sister had come over from work hearing the news from John.  John was standing in front of the fireplace with one hand resting on the stone, staring into the flames.  “Do we have any news from Travis on my granddaughter?” 

“No.  Kayce called him at 8am and it's almost 9 o'clock now.” 

“Now you know the stress you put on your father and I before you got pregnant.” My mother scoffed under her breath sipping on a cup of hot chocolate. 

Whipping my head around I gasped standing near my father in law. “What did you say?” 

“I said now you know how we felt in your teenage years.” She responded back, tapping the side of her cup with her freehand.  “When you were 13 until 17 your father and I never knew what kind of trouble you were in.  We only knew you were likely with Kayce and your other friends.  And now the same thing is happening with my granddaughter Faith.  It's somewhat ironic to me.” 

“Wow, mom.  Thank you for that information that just scare the crap out of me even more.” Spinning on my feet I harshly paced back and forth in front of the couch, feeling a tightness in my chest growing. 

My mother gave me a weak look.  “Alissa, I was just trying to lighten the mood.  She could be perfectly fine like you always were.” 

“Or she could be in serious trouble, mom!” 

Alana calmly entered the conversation.  “Lissa, if I know my niece.  She's resilient just like her mother.” 

“You know what, I can't talk about this right now.” I stomped across the door, throwing the door open and slammed it shut behind me.  Standing near the porch railing I bent my head down laying my head in my hands crying for a good minute until I heard someone call my name softly behind me. 

“Alissa.  Are you okay, darling?” 

Barely lifting my head up from my hands I whisper out the person's name.  “Kayce?” 

“Come here, homey.” He rubbed my back, taking my hand in his leading me over to the porch swing.  Together we sat down on the wooden swings and he wrapped his arms around my shaking form. 

Burying my face against his chest I stained his shirt with tears. “What if she's hurt or worse.” 

“We can’t think that way, Lissa Rae.” He spoke into the air. 

Looking up into his eyes I croaked.  “How are you so calm right now?” 

“I already had my freak out.  If your mother asks, a raccoon threw her gravel driveway to hell, not my truck.” 

I chuckled at the image laying my head back on his chest and he kissed my forehead.  “The first time Faith looked like your younger twin was when she rode a horse by herself.  Do you remember that?” 

“I'll never forget it.” Kayce responded and I weakly smiled at the memory. 

It was a cloudy day on the ranch but that didn't damper our daughter's excitement.  Today she would be getting her own horse to ride when she turned 13 years old.  “I’m so excited, mama.” She bound up and down walking beside me. 

“I can tell sweetie.” I grinned down at her seeing her father lead the light brown horse down from the horse trailer that was near the fence area.  “Hopefully she’ll be a good horse for her.  Don’t you think, Kayce?” 

Faith slowly walked towards the horse that made a noise until her father stopped petting the side of its head.  “How do I get up on her, grandpa?” 

John came up behind her offering out his hand that was extended for me with a wooden box sitting beside my horse since she wasn’t as tall.  “Just put your right foot in the strup and swing your leg over the other side of the saddle.” He explained seeing her lift her body up onto the horse and swung her left leg over the saddle, shifting until she felt comfortable on it. 

Petting her horse's nose I smiled up at my firstborn sitting on her horse.  She tipped her cowgirl hat up slightly so we could see her face better.  “How do I look, mama?” 

“Like a natural, babygirl.” I grinned and the two men with me mirroring the same expression as I did. 

“Don’t bounce against the horse.  All right.” Her father raised his freehand in the air bringing his hand down while he explained. “When the horse bounces up, let it stand you in the stirrups.  And when it comes down, sit back in the saddle.” 

“Be careful and don’t stay out too late.” I called out to her when she gently tugged the reins and walked to the open gate.  John, Kayce and I watched her ride off into the green fields, howling up to the sky with such innocence in her voice. 

Tag list @bvbwestfall @hcwthewestwaswcn @child-of-of-the-sunshine @elenavampire21 @keep-the-wolves-close @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @whatelsecouldgowrong @lover-of-books-and-tea

[sports-on-sundays]

everyone can see he looks at you like you're the world, but you don't even know it / landoscar

Summary: Lando x Oscar - Lando being stupid and Oscar being lovestruck basically.

Warnings: Uh none??? Maybe light mention of violence. Maybe some could be supposed as a bit of angst.

Requested: Surprise surprise- no

Author's Note: Usually won't be writing ships but I had to get it out of my system. Might not be my best work but I really just had to write some Landoscar. Enjoy, fellas.

Oscar watched as Lando kidded with Carlos, feeling strange flutters in his chest whenever Lando laughed with his friend or did something goofy.

He was so fixed on Lando, he didn't even see, hear, or register that the former McLaren driver Lando was conversing with could clearly see him gazing as he was.

"Lando, look at the way your teammate looks at you," was immediately what Carlos said, always taking any opportunity to tease Lando.

"Hm?" Lando asked, in confusion, glancing around. "Where is he?"

Carlos gestured with his chin discreetly, and Lando glanced behind him.

And his eyes met the big brown ones of his teammate in McLaren. And right away, as soon as their eyes met, Oscar's flitted down to the ground. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his brown eyelashes covering his downward facing eyes like curtains. As he sped up, to Carlos, the pink on Oscar's cheeks was unmistakable. But to Lando, it was nonexistant.

Lando looked back to Carlos, grinning as his eyebrows scrunched up, "What? Were you trying to trick me, mate-"

Carlos chuckled, shaking his head, "You're so oblivious."

"Sorry, what?"

"Got to go. Ferrari team is calling."

"Carlo-"

"Adios!" he called, before walking off.

Oscar rounded the corner, but he had heard it all.

It was impossible. In interviews the glances Oscar caught himself giving. 'Accidentally' bumping shoulders with him was difficult not to do. He wanted to be near him. He loved talking with him. So many of the things he did were so funny and...

God.

No, he didn't think Lando was stupid at all. He wasn't trying to let Lando know the strange feelings welling up inside him. No, he didn't want him to know. Because they were weird. They were teammates more than friends. And friends more than... more than anything other than that... And Lando probably isn't... like that.

He didn't know he was into guys, either, until Lando.

(Okay well maybe Logan was really his first crush but he really refused to admit that he still found Logan cute.)

But no, it wasn't Lando that was stupid. It was himself.

He was acting like a kid in school with a stupid crush who had no control over his emotions. What the hell was up with that, he did not know. But control in this subject was not a skill he could grasp.

"Oscar!" said his teammate as Oscar felt his hand grasp his shoulder. Oscar looked over his shoulder, his nose suddenly inches from Lando's.

"You're in a good mood," Oscar observed at the grinning twenty-three year old.

Lando shrugged. "Why not? How are you?" The two McLaren drivers stood, getting some morning coffee together.

"Oh, I'm fine..." Oscar murmured, pouring coffee into his mug.

"Oh, I'm fine..." Lando randomly mimicked, exaggerating Oscar's tone of voice and (in Lando's perspective) Australian accent.

Oscar smiled, looking up, meeting his eyes, Lando grinned, being silly. Being silly on purpose, with the intention to make Oscar laugh. He could always make Oscar laugh, and just the fact that doing that didn't make Oscar chuckle suggested unconciously to Lando that something bothered his mate. Curiously, he'd found himself starting to pick up the little things about Oscar, quicker than he had with either of his other teammates.

"What's up, Oscar?"

"Nothing much, wh-"

"No, like, how are you this morning?"

Oscar was taken off guard by the sudden seriousness in his teammate's voice. He looked up, and felt his stomach lurch as he stared at Lando. He scanned his face- which was quite handsome to be honest- and their eyes met.

He's so serious, but I can't tell him what's really bugging me.

Because he's bugging me.

Oscar swallowed, which Lando saw. "I'm good, as I already said. Sorry if I seem a little tired... Didn't sleep well and I have a lot on my mind."

Lando studied the younger man, before saying, "Obviously we're just teammates, but every single little personal thing can affect racing and performance- so if you ever need to get anything off your chest-"

He cares. He cares so much. "Thanks, Lando, really, I'm fine," Oscar interrupted curtly, before grabbing his drink and turning on his heel, walking out of the room.

"Look at this," one of Oscar's friends laughed. "What the hell are these fans?"

"Most of the time I try to avoid the really strange ones-" Oscar abruptly stopped talking when he saw what was on his mate's phone. His nose crinkled up and his cheeks grew red, and as anger seeped in, so did embarrassment.

"What the hell is right. Why do you seek out this stuff?"

His friend chuckled. "Your reaction is funny." His friend had shown him a post, made by some dumb fan who likely needed a life. A picture of himself and Lando, with simply the caption, 'Oscar looks at Lando like he's the world, and neither of them realize it.'

Why do fans-

No way.

That's not real.

Looking at the picture made the Austrialian's stomach lurch. Because he sort of got what the fan was saying.

"Dude, Oscar, you'll never guess what Alex said the other day," Logan laughed. The two twenty-two year olds walked down the paddock together.

"You're right, I won't guess. What did he say?" As they walked, Oscar instinctively waved to Lando the moment he saw him.

Logan waited a few seconds, before saying, "That's funny, too."

"What?"

"It was about Lando. Because, you know, they know each other well enough. Rookies together and everything. Like you and me."

"Sure..." Oscar always was careful, hesitating when talking about Lando with others. He was mindful to never bring him up and always say as little as possible about him. No one could know how much he felt obsessed with the other McLaren driver.

"He was like, 'Have you see the way Oscar looks at Lando? It's like he's an angel or something. And trust me, Lando is not an angel.' Or he said something like that. I was like, 'Yeah I guess.' But really I thought about it and you probably just... What?"

Oscar had accidentally sighed a little too loud. "Nothing. That's just not the first time I've heard something like that. But continue on-"

"Yeah, well, I was thinking that you probably just have those type of eyes that show your feelings. Like right now." Logan and Oscar looked at each other's eyes.

"Hmmm?"

"Your eyes always show when you like someone a lot. I mean I'm sure you've got other friends and you look the same way, or, like, at your mom."

"What brings you to that conclusion?" Oscar asked carefully.

"Well, because, Alex is right. That's not just your constant look in your eyes. It took me a second to realize that, though, because you look at me with the same look. Which is nice, buddy." He made a silly grin.

Logan was really lame and cheesy. Or at least Oscar thought so.

(But he was also cute.)

And it was unfortunate he wasn't just slightly more stupid.

Oscar's eyes flitted to the ground of the paddock. I really am terrible at hiding it, aren't I? Logan's saying my eyes betray me. Isn't it curious only I get that look in my eyes when it's Lando or Logan?

It honestly really stressed Oscar out, and it was getting tiring to pretend nothing was wrong.

No matter how much I watch my words, everybody knows because of my stupid eyes. May as well gouge them out.

Oscar was tired after the Japanese Grand Prix. Lando spraying him with champagne on that podium. It was... amazing.

A moment he'd never, ever forget.

But now he was tired. So, so tired.

Suddenly, though, he turned, hearing a door swing behind him in the McLaren hall. His eyes met Lando's, and his heart involuntarily started to beat faster as Lando made his way down the hall toward him.

"Oscar," he said simply, grinning widely in the way he did. The moment he reached him though, Lando, with no more thought and one purpose, suddenly threw his arms around Oscar.

It wasn't just any hug. Lando hugged him tightly, his chest pressed against Oscar's. For a moment, Oscar was too shocked to move. Can he feel my heart pounding? This far after the race, can I blame it on adreniline?

Oscar finally awkwardly, stiffly, wrapped his arms around the British driver back, the hug lasting too long for... anything close to regular.

Finally Lando spoke, breaking the terrible silence. Still, he spoke soft. Almost gentle. The concept of Lando speaking gently to him... Oscar had to admit... he liked it. "You've seemed off lately. I hope this... I hope this makes you feel better, these podiums..."

And your hug.

Oscar relaxed slightly, his muscles become less tense as his arms rested more closely against Lando's back. He was warm, and emotions from Lando flowed into Oscar. It was comforting, despite also being unnerving for Oscar. He practically choked on the words, and even coughed, but got out awkwardly, "Why- Why do you care so much?"

Lando sighed. "Because we're teammates. And I like you..." Oscar felt heat on his face and surprised butterflies as Lando pulled away.

Lando gave him a cute smile, before starting to walk down the hall past him. On his way past, he patted Oscar's back, and as he walked off, called, "And, besides, that's what friends are for!"

Right.

That's what friends are for.

As Oscar glanced back over his shoulder for one more glimpse of Lando, he felt cut to pieces. And alone.

[sevensoulmates]

I don’t have real coherent words after that Oliver interview so I need to hear yours. Because OH MY GOD

Vindication??? VINDICATION???? VIN~DIC~ATION???!!!!!!

Like we knew. We all knew. All the fans knew, and everyone working with the show knew. But the fact that they're actually talking about it? Being transparent about it? From Mr. PR Golden Boy's mouth to the masses? Mind-blowing.

To know for a fact that Bi Buck (and I'm assuming queer Eddie and queer Buddie) was talked about (again we KNEW but like now we know know, ya know)??? I mean Tim literally said years ago that all the discussions we have about buddie online are the discussions they have in the writer's room. The fact that they TRIED to give it us and were shut down. The fact that we still rallied behind them because we fucking. KNEW?!!?!?!

Like queer fans especially like....I'm not going to get into the history of queercoding/the Hayes Code, but anyone who's been around the block with queer media just knows that writers (not just 911 writers) have done their damndest over the years to give the audience queer characters while still trying to appease their homophobic bosses that control their livelihood and the life of their art in general.

It just fucking sucks that only now, when networks realize that openly queer media sells, that they're finally allowing writers and creators to finally tell their authentic stories.

911 is interesting. They're kinda like the elder Gen-Z/Young millennial cuspers. They started during a time when queer media was allowed some visibility but still had heavy sanctions placed upon it, and so they still dealt with homophobia and discrimination in underhanded and mostly invisible ways, and are living long enough to see the social transition into big profitable open queer media.

It's like...I've heard a lot of elder queer people question why some of their fellow elders are so "mad" that young queer people have it "easier" and can be more "open". The critique is "isn't that what we were all fighting for? So that younger people did not have to deal with what we dealt with?" The same goes for TV. I know a lot of people (like people who came from SPN or the MCU or Merlin or Rizzoli & Isles or Sherlock, etc) are seeing what's happening with 911 and they're experiencing this shock of like "we deserved this" and they did. But now they get to see the fruits of their labor come true for new(er) shows like 911 or RW&Rb or Heartstopper or Heartbreak High, or Interview with a Vampire or Good Omens or Umbrella Acadmey or Euphoria or Yellowjackets or the Haunting of Bly Manor, etc.

It's still a long battle, but occasionally, like now, we get to see these BIG wins, and it should be something to celebrate.

This, combined with the fact that we knew a queer Eddie storyline was also being discussed, tells me all I needed to know. And again, I already fucking knew.

Now all we gotta do is wait. We've already waited this long.

[alotofrandomfangirling]

Can't take my eyes off you (Son Heung-Min x female!reader)

Summary: you're a sports journalist and you get assigned to interview the players after the matches. Sonny starts crushing on the pretty interviewer and looks forward to every post-match interview just to spend some time talking to you.

Author's note: a post by @sonnys-fan-not-spurs-fan gave me this cute idea and i had to write it 😩 thank you so much for letting me use the idea and for sending me the adorable gif 🥹 i hope you all like it!! Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language ❤️

The first time Sonny saw you he was breathless. He had just gotten off the pitch after a painful loss in the Premier League and was heading to the press area for the post match interviews when he laid his eyes on you.

It was seriously like Sonny.exe has stopped working. He was thinking 'what's going on? Who is this gorgeous woman? Is it- is she going to interview me? What am I g-' and suddenly, in those few seconds, it was like he had forgotten about that awful match his team had just had, just trying to process the thought of such stunning woman standing there.

You, on the other hand, were just as nervous. Being a young sports journalist and being assigned to interview the players after the matches was a big deal. And, of course, being a huge football fan, you were excited as well.

You had already interviewed Spurs' striker Harry Kane and brazilian star Richarlison, but now you couldn't wait to talk to *swoon* Korea's pride Son Heung-Min. He was one of your favorite football players ever and you were so excited to- oh my gosh, here he comes! *professional mode on* 🧐

The staff was quick to push Sonny to the press area, making you both come back to reality. You didn't lose time and introduced yourself, starting the interview.

"Good evening, mr. Son. I'm (Y/N) (L/N). We watched Spurs going with a great first half, but unfortunately finishing the match with negative results. Do you think the change in tactics had something to do with this performance?"

"I- I think- I... good evening-" - he tried forming a logical answer, but he was so affected by your presence he could only stutter a few words.

What was going on? You had seen some interviews before and he wasn't always like that. Were you such a terrible interviewer?lol

You started feeling a bit worried but remained professional as the interview went on and he started to feel more like himself.

When you finished, you thanked him:

"Thank you, mr. Son. Until next time!"

He replied with his signature "thank you very much" as he thought 'will there be a next time?!'

Even though the thought of seeing the beautiful interviewer again made him happy, he got a bit nervous, because he didn't want to look like a fool again lol so he promised himself he would get prepared to have a better interview next time he saw you.

And for you, needless to say it was the highlight of your day. Being that close and talking to your idol like that? And getting paid to do it?? Hell yeah. Even though he acted a bit weird... but you were definitely going to work hard to make next time better for both of you 🙏🏻

***************

And it worked! On the next interview, Sonny wasn't caught off guard like the first time (lol) so he was definitely more prepared to deal with talking to his new crush you. It also helped that Tottenham had won the match AND Sonny had scored, so you had several compliments for him and for the team 😏

"Good evening, mr. Son! It's (Y/N) (Y/N). What a great match! Congratulations on that beautiful goal" - you said smiling and you could see his smile was as big as yours - "what do you think changed from last week that led to this victory today?"

This time Sonny could form perfect sentences (he thanked God for that) and he was happy he could perform well and give you a great interview.

When it was done, you both thanked each other again and he left, both of you feeling your hearts warm.

***************

After that, the next interviews went smoothly and Sonny started to feel more comfortable being around you. He started being more open and playful, even cracking some jokes sometimes, only to hear the beautiful sound that was your laugh.

In one of those times he even asked you to call him Sonny instead of mr. Son.

Yes, he had this nerve.

"Hello, mr. Son. I'm (Y/N) (L/N). I would like to discuss-"

"Ah please you can call me Sonny" - he said smiling so sweetly you almost melted in front of him.

This time it was you.exe that stopped working. Goddamnit. We know you always tried to keep it professional, but this time you couldn't help the blush on your cheeks. It was just too much cuteness for you to handle.

"Um, okay, um, Sonny" - you said looking at him a bit insecure, but his look was so heartwarming you immediatly felt safe.

***************

And so days passed and this went on.

You know, Sonny didn't mind the post match interviews. Not at all, he thought the interviewers were doing their job just like he did his, so he always tried to be nice. But this time it was different. He would wait anxiously for the post match interviews so that he could have a little moment with you, your attention 100% fixed on him. Even if his team had lost, seeing your familiar face there, your kind eyes and listening to your gentle voice always made him feel better. It was like a reward after his hard work on the pitch.

He loved the way your eyes would never leave his, how polite you always were and how you chuckled when he said something funny. He always tried to make you have fun and give you a good interview, but he was careful to not let show the big crush he was developing on you.

And you, well, you couldn't say you didn't love it too. The way he always listened to your questions and never took his eyes off you, how he always greeted you with his best smile even if he'd had a bad match, being close to him and looking into his eyes... it was really the dream job.

***************

The day you weren't there (poor you caught a flu and your voice sounded super funny, so you had to rest at home) and another journalist came to interview him he was SO disappointed.

He came to the press area with that cute grin of his and, when he didn't see you, the slump on his shoulders was visible.

"(Y/N), you had to see how sad Son was 'cause you weren't there. That guy has a total liking on you" - your colleague told you when he met you on the next week.

"Oh please, that's absolutely not true" - you said, trying to wave that off and hoping he wouldn't notice how affected you were - "it was just the results, he was probably upset because of that."

"But they won, (Y/N). There was no reason for him to be sad during the interview. He was definitely missing your cute face there" - he said, with a smirk and you could feel your cheeks turn pink.

***************

Sometimes, even after he finished his interview, he would stay behind a bit just to watch you work. Of course he didn't make it obvious, he would always stay talking to a teammate or a staff member, but he would use that time to steal little glances at you.

He even felt a bit bad seeing you talking to the other players and giving them that beautiful smile of yours. Was that jealousy?! It didn't make sense, because you weren't his after all. God, you barely knew each other. But he couldn't help thinking he wanted the kindness, attention and those warm smiles only for him. He wanted you for him.

***************

In one of these times when he was admiring you from a distance, Richarlison noticed it and Sonny was in big trouble.

"Hey!" - Richie said, snapping Sonny out of his trance - "stop staring at the hot interview lady and go ask her out".

Sonny got as red as a tomato.

"What! I'm- I'm not staring, I'm just- I" - he stuttered and Richie soon cut him off.

"Hey, say no more, i can already see what's going on here" - he smirked - "i'll only tell you this: if you don't ask her out by the end of the week, i'll go tell her myself" - he said and then left, leaving Sonny with a blush on his cheeks and a big problem to solve.

Of course he liked you, but did he have the guts to ask you out? Well, he needed to gather his courage and it had to be soon, because if there's one thing he was sure of is that Richie wasn't lying.

And with that, he decided he was going to talk to you after the next match's interview. God help him.

***************

On that day, he talked to you during the interview and he seemed a bit off again, but you couldn't tell why (only himself knew how nervous he was inside ajskajakaj). He waited around a bit like he always did, always stealing those adorable glances at you from time to time (damn, what power you had on him to make him feel like a boy with a crush?).

When you finished your work and had already interviewed all of the players you were supposed to talk to, you stepped aside to gather your stuff and go back home. But this time you had a surprise!

Sonny took a deep breath and approached you. It was the first time he was going to talk to you off cameras and his heart was pouding so hard, he could barely hear his own thoughts.

"Umm hi (Y/N)!" - he got closer to you and greeted you, a bit shy.

You heard his familiar voice and turned around and, really, none less than Son Heung-Min was standing in front of you with that cute smile of his and his hands behind his back.

What could he possibly want with you? Not that it wasn't always a pleasure talking to your idol, but you couldn't understand why he was reaching out for you, an ordinary journalist, after you had already finished your duties.

But of course you weren't just an ordinary journalist in Sonny's eyes. To him, you were one of the prettiest, sweetest and most competent women he had ever met. He wanted to spend more time with you, to look at you, to be with you. And now he was going to tell you that.

Or at least he thought so, until you turned around and looked at him with your beautiful smile. At that moment he forgot the whole script he had in mind.

"Oh hello, Sonny! Congrats again on the performance today, it is really a pleasure watching you play" - you smiled softly at him.

Yep, that broke him. He couldn't think straight after those kind words from such a beautiful girl.

"Um, wow, thank you" - he chuckled, feeling a little heat on his cheeks.

'Focus, Heungmin. Focus' - he told himself.

"Well, (Y/N), i was wondering, are you busy this friday night? I mean, we don't have matches this day so i thought you might be free as well and we could, maybe, you know, go out for dinner or something" - he said, spitting the words out as a bit of courage took him over.

You couldn't believe your ears. Was the Son Heung-Min really asking you out? You were so surprised it took you a moment to process his words and try to understand if it wasn't actually a prank or something, because it was too good to be true.

"I, um..."

Poor Sonny thought that meant you weren't interested, but you were actually just thinking if you should pinch yourself to wake up from that dream lol that made him a bit worried, but he was determined to let it all out.

"Look, (Y/N)" - he sighed - "i'm obviously very nervous because i clearly don't do this often" - he chuckled - "but i think you're amazing and i really admire you, and i would like to get to know you more. I mean, we're always talking about me, but i would like to get to know more about you too, because you seem like a really great person" - he looked down shyly as he spoke.

He was sooooo adorable you couldn't take it 😩 so when he started talking again you immediatly cut him off.

"It's okay if you don't feel comfortable about it, i just needed to t-"

"I would love to!" - you interrupted him, smiling - "Sonny, it would be a total pleasure"

His face instantly lit up.

"Really?" - he said, smiling and lifting his face up, making his hair jiggle a little.

You chuckled at his adorableness.

"Of course! You know what, uno reverse card: now you ask the questions. Think you can handle it?" - you said, playfully.

He threw his head back and laughed. The sight was so adorable you couldn't believe this angel was really asking you out.

"It's a deal then, ms. (L/N)" - he said and put his hand out as you shook it. That first touch was electrifying for both of you.

"Deal" - you echoed his words, winking.

"Well, then i have to go practice to really not disappoint the best journalist i know" - he said with a grin - "let's keep in touch until then?"

"Sounds perfect" - you said, smiling.

Wow, you loved seeing him like that, feeling comfortable and playing around. You couldn't wait for Friday.

You said goodbyes and Sonny felt like a weight had been lifted up from his shoulders. Did he really just ask his crush out and she said yes?! He couldn't wait to tell Richie about it. He would so be proud 😉

[tonowarislut]

RHEA RIPLEY X READER

! Soft Content, a bit of cussing, use of her real name !

English is not my first language, sorry for eventual errors

Orlando, Florida means one thing... TRAFFIC JAM.

"Hey babe i'm stuck in the traffic...shit this bastard!" said an upset Demi.

"What happened?" You asked worried shifting your phone to the other ear.

"Oh nothing babe just a fucker cutting my way with his scooter" answered the wrestler

"I always wondered how this type of people have a license, they are a living danger jeez" you said

"Yeah i should've run over him and his stupid scooter" replied the girl

"Demi! Hahahaha you can't!" My god. She was so funny. You were so lucky to have her as a girlfriend.

Demi thought the same thing. When you first met she was so fascinated, you were so respectful, kind and funny. That's why she decided to get to know you.

Where you met? On backstage 2 year ago, during a short interview. You were the interviewer.

You asked something like her favorite holiday, biggest pet peeve, fan crush, biggest fear...

Since the atmosphere during the interview was to her liking, light, she decided to exchange numbers.

The rest happened fast.

Becoming friends, be there for just a (favorite cafè beverage) or a serious topic like her brake up with his ex boyfriend or her matches.

You had so much fun with her and then, some months later you fell in love. You adored her.

She was always there for you and you for her.

At first you didn't say anything, you just wanted to be near the wrestler as a friend i mean.. she was heterosexual you hadn't a chance but then you decided to tell her because she was becoming a really important and special person in your life.

You just couldn't give up your romantic feelings so you needed Rhea to reject you to move on or the opposite.

Flashback

You were at the wrestler house, on the couch, for a movie night.

Yeah movie night. You become so close that every Saturday possible you would come to her house to watch a movie. From horror to comedy movies.

"Demi i need to tell you something" you said nervously worried

Rhea looked in your eyes and asked you, worried as well "Yeah, tell me... Is everything okay Y/n?"

You nodded "Yes! Everything is fine but i'm a little nervous. I know how to say this but i don't know how you will take it, i want to tell you without you excluding me from your life. I care too much now, i'd be sad if you left me "

Demi took your hands and played with your fingers to relax you "Don't worry darling i won't leave you..." Then you saw her gasp and say "No! No Y/n you traitor. I know what you did, where this is going"

You died in the spot. Fuck. You were fucked.

"You, you watched the new Dragonball film without me, like we promised" she continued saying.

"What? Ahahahah No! Demi! You almost gave me a heart attack" you said slapping her tattooed toned arm.

"Agh it's all so easy and hard at the same time! Okay i'll tell you" she squeezed your hands in reassurance and after looking at her beautiful eyes you find the courage "I-I simply love you Demi, not only as a friend"

Her expression calmed for a second and then she gave you a big smile.

"I do too" she answered you, her thick Australian accent showing.

At this point you didn't know what made you go more crazy, if her answer or the accent you loved.

You blinked and screamed low "WHAT?! REALLY?! But i thought you.."

She laughed and said "Yeah. It was a surprise for me too. I realized it last month when you were being cute to the barista, when i saw her gay panic i though 'I can relate' "

Whispering you repeated her words not believing it "Gay panic?"

You went red. You were excitedly and positively embarrassed.

Demi "yeah"

You "Are you Bi?"

Demi "Yeah i'm"

You "I thought...i thought"

Demi "Me too but here i'm. Not a big thing. Love is love. I only know that i love talking and spending time with you and to tell you the truth i'm dying to kiss you. Can i kiss you? "

You "Yeah! Of cour-"

She hugged and kissed you sweetly. You then sit on her lap, grabbed gently her hair and deepened the kiss.

Finally you were kissing your beloved Demi Bennett and your stomach was feeling it all. Spinning and twisting.

After the kiss you rested your forehead on hers and smiled, she did the same.

You were so happy.

You hugged her neck and told her "I love you, i love youu" she laughed, rubbing your back and answered "me too babe"

That's how the answers to that song you often listened and related were answered.

What song? More than a friend by Girli

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

Thank you so much @aemondtarqaryens for starting off Volume 2 of my Interview With a Writer series! This is my ongoing series of the talented souls on Tumblr and ao3, and their brilliant writing!

If there is a story you are interest in, I am open to requests! Just make sure to check out my criteria for stories considered for this.

Name: aemondtarqaryens

Story: Precious Delights

Paring: Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: See each chapter for individual, more precise warnings. Written with/for a female reader, but other than purple eyes, there‘s no mention of her appearance.

What inspired the plot for Precious Delights?

Oh God, truth be told? It started with a request I received for Maegor x Reader smut where she's heavily pregnant with his child. And I'm just a sucker for my big tiddy daddy and gave it a shot.

Once the original Precious Delights was posted, people commented under it, asking for a part 2 where the baby is born. The whole series just developed from there on and the rest is history.

I just loved their dynamic in the first part I posted (it's based on the bath scene between Aemma and Viserys, because it was just fitting and I liked that scene in the series) and felt captivated to give the few people interested what they wanted.

Explain your interpretation of Maegor? What drives him? Why is he the way he is in the story?

Charlie Hunnam is my faceclaim for Maegor because someone (I'm not dropping names cough cough @fairysluna cough) planted that seed into my mind. Most people fancast him as Aegon I, but to me, Henry Cavil makes a better Aegon I (you know, let's just cast Henry as every ASOIAF character lmfao).

I always had the relationship of Daemon and the young Rhaenyra we see in the show in my mind while writing this story. And we learn in Innate Desires that Maegor has lusted after his niece for quite some time, and even asked Aenys to give him her hand in marriage. He was denied, and searched his luck (or power) elsewhere, but failed with his wives dying without giving him an heir.

This is something that drives him, too. The need to provide an heir with his blood, that will take the Throne after him.

Canon!Maegor is one kind of a man, and while I find him intriguing, I firstly know that I could never do him justice and secondly, it just wouldn't have fit the story and it's overall development. Plus, having had a soft spot for his niece for so long, it's clear he's not always the brute he is towards her. He's softer, and allows her to catch some rare glimpses of his vulnerability as their relationship develops.

Was there anything in specific that inspired your Reader portrayal?

No, I feel like it‘s very self indulgent. Usually, the reader portrayals are matching their respective role (or I try to make it that way, at least) and with Targcest, I feel like you do have a bit more freedom to indulge. Just a freedom to be cheeky, or disobey certain rules.

Do you feel they eventually come to complement one another?

They complement each other. Maegor gives her something she‘s craved for so long, stability, family, attention, and Reader takes piece after piece of the brute out of him. Just like their children. They‘re not changing him completely, but they have a positive impact on him. She basically made the rogue brute soft and tender. 🤭

Will you add into their story?

Depends, if I really get another idea for this series maybe, but most likely not. It has found a good end, and everything else would be just dragging it out.

Do you want to share about another upcoming WIP? I know you finished celebrating a milestone for your blog (congratulations 💖).

Thank you!! I‘m currently working on the last two requests for my celebration, a one shot with Aemond and servant!Reader for a writing challenge I participated in, and a one shot of an American Horror Story x HOTD crossover where Aemond is the Antichrist.

Any chance we can have a snippet for Aemond!Antichrist? 👀

Easing your trembling legs, you hold onto the desk for support. It feels like an eternity when you crouch forward slightly to steady your uneven breathing, the moment only breaking as Aemond advances towards you, his body leaning against yours and pressing you up against the desk. It’s the only thing keeping you upright, and the moment you feel his hot breath caress your neck, your legs feel like they are about to give in. His thigh slips between yours, but you can’t feel his hands on your body, assuming he’s clasped them behind his back or keeps them at his sides. But you can tell that his chest isn’t the only firm thing that presses against your body. His cock is rock hard, clearly finding as much pleasure in the situation than you do, and all but strains against your lower back. He is so close, that’s all you’ve thought of for the past days, yet it’s not enough. You need his hands, him, to feel thoroughly satisfied. The urge to whine scratches in your throat, but you manage to swallow it at the last moment. “Beg for me to touch you,” he drawls, voice laced with a mixture of excitement and hunger. Exhaling a strained breath, you close your eyes. “P-Please,” you whimper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Please… touch me. It’s been so long.” “Hm.” You hear it loud and clear, the amusement, the satisfaction, causing your skin to heat up. “That’s all you’ve got?”

[elitehanitje]

AEW Has A Major Platform For Me To Express Myself And Show People My Culture

Queen Aminata is proud to be the first African born woman to be signed to a big wrestling promotion.

After working a plethora of matches for the promotion over the years, Queen Aminata officially inked a deal with AEW in February 2024. Aminata has capitalized on the momentum quickly, as she is set to face Billie Starkz in a match for the new ROH Women's World TV Championship at ROH Supercard Of Honor in April.

Speaking to the AEW Unrestricted podcast for a new interview, Aminata reflected on being the first African-born woman to ever sign a contract with a major wrestling promotion.

"Coming from Guinea, I wouldn’t say there’s nothing special about it but there’s so much more because people from here don’t know Guinea. They know Africa, but it’s like, Africa, you know what I mean? I just wanted to give them something that they don’t know, tell them a story without talking to them that is showing them, hey this is where I’m from, but this is what you get. Especially with being signed, this is a bigger company that has a major platform for me, so what better way for me to just express myself and show people my culture, my accent, and how proud I am to walk in there with my cape. It’s funny sometimes because some fans will be like, ‘Oh my god, that’s just a fake accent, are you really from Africa?’ I’m like, ‘Yes honey, I was born and raised in Africa. I still go back.’ I just had bigger dreams than I could realize in Africa, so I just took a chance on myself and I gave it my all. I feel like I have two homes now, I have the USA and I have Africa. I’m happy to be here, at the same time I miss home. I’m so thankful for everything I’m building here and I know there is many more to come."

[samstclair]

Pedro Pascal’s Thespian

Anonymous Request - "Hiya Sammy!

I was wondering if you could do something short but not TOO short, a girl still wants her cozy bedtime read! Anyway, I know it's not that exactly ethical, but I think a great story idea would be Pedro Pascal being your theater teacher (university, no high school p!do stuff here <3) and you're his student, or maybe a co-worker? I don't know, but I know you know! Maybe he wants to see you after class, some storyline like that? Thanks a million billion!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh my god, you're the guy. The guy from those posters! Those like, "Have You Seen This Man In Your Dreams" posters! I knew it! You looked familiar! Like a frog!"

The man with the thick ass unibrow furrowed that unibrow in confusion. He rose his hands up, backing up, "No, I'm not. You're just mistaken, I'm not him. I'm just a friendly Samaritan, that's all."

You continued to walk towards him, gun now raised. "You lied to me, after all this time. You're him."

"No, please!"

"I won't hesitate, bitch!"

Pow. Pow. Pow. POW......beep beep beep BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEEBEEEEEEPPPPEPEPEPEPBBBEEEEP

Your eyes fluttered open, cringing at the sound of all too familiar alarm. You rose your arm and continued to slam your hand on the nightstand until you were able to land it on the alarm, effectively hitting snooze and effectively breaking it in half.

You rubbed your face, pulling the blankets over you to avoid the sunlight that came through your apartment window. There was the sound of traffic and commotion and all that other New Yorkan bullshit.

"What a weird dream," you thought to yourself. "I shouldn't watch so many conspiracy videos before bed."

Then forgetting that dream all in an instant because that's how dreams work, you rose and cracked every single bone in your body. Your favorite one to crack was that tailbone.

beep beep beep BEEP BEEPE BEPEPEPPEPE

"JESUS CHRIST BITCH! A GIRL IS FUCKING UP ALREADY MY GOD!" you yelled, ready to karate chop that already destroyed alarm once more, until you realized it wasn't your alarm. In fact, that all too familiar beeping just moments before also wasn't your alarm. It was your phone.

You picked it up, "Hello?"

"Y/N! Where are you?! Class is starting in like, fifteen minutes, get your booty down here or you'll be fucking expelled! Thespians are supposed to be punctual beings don't you get it?!"

Timmy Tim hung up right after, not giving you a chance to talk. And you weren't sure you could have had the opportunity arose. You checked the time - it was ten A.M. You were supposed to be up an hour ago.

"Oh fuck fuck FUCK!" you whined, grabbing the first pair of pants near you. Your PJ t-shirt would just have to do! "Oh my God, why am I always late?! First that carpet interview, and now this?"

Before you knew it, you were on the streets of Brooklyn hauling ass to your university building. You felt as if you were in a movie, breezing past all sorts of people, from those in suits cosplaying as characters in Succession and Wall Street brokers, to those TikTok fashion students, to Billy Eichner from Billy on the Street!

Running was what you did best, perhaps the ONLY thing you did best. You ran and ran, stomped and stomped, doing summersaults and other parkour shenanigans as to avoid crashing into anyone. Simone Biles WATCH OUT!

You jumped over a rat, a pizza slice, a rat eating a pizza slice, pigeons, cracks on the cement to avoid cracking yo mama's back. The constant horn honking and New York accents fueled you, you were your own person in this big apple, just like everyone else...

But wait - a girl needed her coffee. Like those Forever 21 t-shirts, a girl cannot function let alone LIVE without her coffee. You wouldn't mind being late for stopping at a Starbucks line. Those girls that would come in late to class with their loud fucking car keys in hand, a grande frap in the other, well, they had a point, to say the very least, after all.

And you did just that. You saw the green Starbucks lady just up ahead! You ran and ran!

Once you got your venti brown sugar shaken espresso with an added five shots of espresso after waiting in line for twenty minutes, you were back to your task.

"Hey mama you wanna hit this?!"

You turned at the harsh, deep and guttural voice. It was the same man who would cosplay as a Breaking Bad character you had always passed by, now holding up a crack pipe to you. He was dead serious.

You then held up your venti brown sugar shaken espresso with an added five shots up to him, as if you were cheering together.

"No thanks," your bimbo ass yelled back as you kept speed walking away, "I have my own crack here <3!" Forever 21 would've loved you for that. Instead of those proverbs they print at the bottom of their plastic bags, they should instead plaster your face as a replacement!

His eyes widened. He seemed extremely taken aback, soon following your response with a horrible coughing-laughing combo. It was very reminiscent to that meme of Idris Elba on Hot Ones.

The all too familiar university building was just up ahead. It looked like every other building in this city but you KNEW it wasn't just an ordinary building - it was the Waystar School for the Theatrical Arts - a prestigious and extremely overly expensive school for, well, the theatrical arts. You never saw yourself as a theater major, and to be quite frank, you hated Hamilton because it reminded you of those weird kids in the school hallways, but it wasn't until you were chased out of Colombia with hundreds of thousands of dollars that you thought - well I might as well do SOMETHING with this money...but that's neither HERE nor THERE and we WON'T be delving into as to why that happened!

Timmy Tim was standing outside the steps, his scrawny and tall ass looking down at his phone and back up to the street, a worried look plastered all over his Victorian doll looking ass face.

"Oh my God, Timmy! I'm here," you waved your arms so hard you felt them go numb, "over here!"

He whipped his head to see you, his frown was turned upside down.

"Y/N!"

You stopped in front of him, ready to catch all that breath that left you as you ran. Your sides ached, you felt like an old man going up like three steps.

"Y/N, what happened? What took you so long?" he asked. "And wait, what are you wearing?"

You looked down to your pants...

bruh.

"Um, I didn't have time to pick my outfit, these were the first things available!"

"Cookie monster? Really?"

"Listen Timmy," you snapped, "I didn't have time! Would you rather have me show up in underwear?!"

"I thought you didn't wear underwear. You love to call yourself a "freeballin' commando girl", right?"

You took a minute and thought to yourself. You felt that New York wind mixed with gasoline and steam from hot dog water ride up your bare ass - it was cold. He was right, there's nothing under these pajamas.

"Well, at least my shirt's....okay?" you looked down and stretched it out to get a better look. There was a mixture of stains and wrinkles plastered all over. Some of the stains you recognized, but some you didn't. There was mustard, ketchup and mayo mixed together, boogers, nail polish and makeup smears, Bang energy drink, oil from sour cream and onion Lays chips that you wiped on it with your fingers, watermelon juice, and more. The shirt itself was a light pink and once read  "Holy Crêpe!". It was part of a set you bought when you were back in Paris, but we don't talk about Paris here, just like Colombia. But whatever because now it's faded away, gone from existence. You forgot, this was your depression shirt that you hadn't changed out of the entire fucking week.

"Your shirt looks like Jackson Pollock painted it but he was also blind," he said, embarrassed.

"That's definitely ableist, Timmy Tim," you said. "We gotta go, we're definitely late now!"

You both ran inside, crashing into the glass doors as you kept forgetting they were "pull" instead of "push". But actually, they were neither. You didn't see the big ass sign on the window of the door saying "TO OPEN PRESS BUTTON", as you were too caught up with wiping the remnants of stains that transferred onto the glass as best you could, but to no avail. But you still tried.

"Timmy, hit the button!"

"What button?"

"The big metal one! The one with the Stephen Hawking chair!"

Timmy Tim looked at the handicapped button at the side of the wall, then back to you, in awe. "Bitch, you mean a wheelchair?"

He pressed it, letting the doors open by themselves as you were still trying to clean them.

Timmy gave you a dirty look as they opened slowly. "You know, you shouldn't take part in abusing the system. Neither should the school. It's fucked up, honestly."

"And you should know better than to go to dinner with Kanye West in today's day-in-age, but you don't hear me talking shit! I've seen that photo!" you continued to watch the door open insanely and inconceivably slow.

"Um, actually, Kid Cudi was there also. And Pete Davidson! It wasn't just Kanye!" he shot back.

When the door finally fucking opened, the two of you squeezing through. You gave the janitor a wimpish Jennifer Coolidge-esque smile before running up the stairs, feeling guilty for those stains.

"I fucking hate stairs," you said, legs going up and down, up and down, "why couldn't we use the elevator?"

"Because you broke it, remember?" he snapped as he ran up in front of you. His attitude definitely soured after that Kanye comment.

You suddenly recollected that catastrophe. Not your fault you underestimated the power of the gust from your sneeze. You hated allergies.

"Plus, stairs are better - since your fat ass won't do the stair master at the gym!"

"Watch it Timmy, the stair master is actually harder than it advertises to be!" You guys had hit the third floor, only two more to go. "You know, you talk a lot of shit. I can airdrop your stupid Statistics rap to everyone here, INCLUDING the Dean. Keep up the smack talking!"

You two had finally hit your floor, your class was now just down the hallway. Timmy Tim Tim stopped in front of you, almost causing you to topple back down the stairs. He was very serious. He leaned in to whisper.

"You know how sensitive that video is to me," he warned, before turning and going towards the class. You followed closely behind, feeling silenced.

You both entered the classroom, careful not to bring any attention on yourselves. But let's be honest you were both late as fuck and you also looked a little shaken up, as if you were two weeks into another one of your pink Benadryl benders. Which arguably, you were.

All your classmates looked at you two and as you took your seats. You noticed that your professor was absent, clear from sight.

"Um, where's our professor?" you leaned in and asked Timmy Tim Tim Tim.

He rolled his eyes and let out quite the scoff, "Y/N, sometimes I wonder how you even know how to  walk straight or chew food. Didn't you read the email he sent us like, two days ago?"

You thought back, scratching and searching in your mind for this "email". However, you weren't really sure, as you had forgotten your school email's password and every time you tried to log in, you were locked out and eventually the website blocked you completely. But you wouldn't dare tell this to anyone, this stayed between you and yourself and God.

"Um, yeah I did," you replied, defensive, "I, uh, I just wanted to see if you got the email. You know, testing you." you smiled, biting your tongue like a white mom, your favorite emote. He didn't seem amused.

"I'm kinda nervous, to be honest. He's like," he leaned in, closer, you smelled his wet breath but kind of didn't mind?, "like, a real actor."

It was hard for you to pretend you knew who and what the fuck he was talking about.

"So what? I've never even heard of him, to be honest," you said, fishing for Timmy Tim to reveal the name of your professor's replacement, "like, what's he been in?"

Timmy Tim backed up and gave you a long, blank face. "Are you serious?"

"Serious as cancer," you smiled.

"Pedro Pascal? Like, Pedro Pascal. Narcos, Game of Thrones, Mandolorian, that one Sia music video," he listed, "we literally binged-watched Last of Us, like, three times at your apartment because you said you wanted to take in every aspect of his face you might've missed."

The news caused you to drop possibly the loudest, hardest fart, but luckily someone dropped their textbook at the same time so the noise drowned out. What a good idea.

The door whipped open, slamming against the wall and causing a giant hole. The classroom fell deathly silent...

And then in he came...

There he was...

He was tall, big. He had blocky, black, and dog-chewed 3D glasses that looked like had its lenses popped out deliberately. He wore a grey cardigan that hung down below his butt. He gripped a Starbucks iced quad espresso in a venti cup with extra ice and six shots in his hand, as if it might fall like Jonah Hill's did. He had a patchy beard but a strong mustache. He gripped in his other hand a dark brown leather briefcase. And lastly, he carried the demeanor of an intimidating yet refreshing and real, Hollywood actor.

"Oh shit, will I get charged for that?" he asked the security guard that escorted him in, pointing at the newly formed glory hole.

"Take it up with Logan," the security guard shrugged and left, closing the door behind him.

He turned to the class and smiled. "Well, hello everyone! Sorry I'm late, I got lost. Couldn't read the signs. These glasses here," he pointed to them, "yeah, they don't work."

He set his briefcase on the desk.

"I can't do this", you panicked. "Mama can't handle this right now."

You really couldn't. You really did wish you saved your password to your notes app, because there would've been a lot of preparation needed for this that frankly you did not fucking have. How were you supposed to react to this little Trojan horse the school just dropped on your ass?

"Well, anyway guys! Thank you so much for joining me! Now, I first have to get this out of the way, but I've never taught a class before so bear with me!" he started, smiling. You were petrified. Frozen. You felt like the son from Hereditary when he got possessed in class. "So if you got the email, you know that your professor's out of town and I was somehow available to teach a university class for a couple of days! So here I am!"

"He's so cool," Timmy Tim whispered in your ear. You couldn't snap out of whatever trance you were in. Honestly it wasn't even a trance you were just stumped.

"So what do we call you, professor?" a student asked.

"Uh," he thought, "Pedro's fine, I guess. Or Mr. Pascal."

"Pedro Mr. Pascal, where'd you get that cardigan? It's so chic, no?" another said.

"Oh this ol' thing," he said, feeling himself, "Target!"

And then you saw it.

He did it.

He did the white mom tongue.

Maybe you two were more connected than you thought? Maybe you were prepared? Like, anyone who does that unscripted and unsolicited is automatically an ally, right?

"Well, anyway. I know this is an acting class but I wanna see how skilled you are in the writing department. After all, a show or movie is only as good as the writing! All those Writer's Guild protests aren't for nothing! So go ahead, whip something up! It can be about anything, as long as it is formatted like a script! None of that narrative writing bullshit because my attention span is not all that great!"

As everyone whipped out their laptops and began writing, you were still in your stump. Timmy Tim had to check in if you were okay.

"Uh, Y/N? The fuck is wrong with you?" he asked, somewhat disgustingly. "It looks like you're astral projecting."

You snapped back and looked to him. "Oh my God, Timmy Tim Tim. I didn't think HE'D be our professor!" you hushed.

"But you said you read the email -"

"- um, yeah, obviously I did," you interrupted, trying to save the lie your fat butt told, "I just thought, you know, he's a celebrity and he wouldn't actually have time for this bullshit. He's like, a big deal."

Tim Timmy looked over to the new professor. "I mean, look at him. He definitely has the time."

You looked over to Mr. Pedro Pascal. He was talking to a group of kiss-ass teacher's pet students.

"So are you guys #teamBarbie or #teamOppenheimer?" he asked, leaning against his desk in a true, professor-who-thinks-he's-Robin-Williams-in-Dead-Poets-Society, "I'm not your ordinary teacher, I change my student's lives!", professor fashion.

"Well, one nearly eviscerated an entire population and the other's just a girl who loves pink? I think it's an easy, obvious answer, professor," one student replied.

"No, no," Mr. Pedro Pascal laughed, "I meant which are you going to watch first when they come out."

"Oh! Well, in that case, I'm #teamBoffem!"

Timmy Tim (to the third power) looked back to you. "We should really start our work. We can't let these smelly theater kids beat us. I won't let them beat me."

And with that, Tim Tim grabbed his laptop, smacked it on his desk, hunched his back forward, cracked his fingers and started to type away, all whilst resembling a cartoon character. He was so serious.

"Shit, I forgot. This is school", you thought. "I actually gotta like, work."

You then went into your bag for your laptop, opened up a blank Word doc, and stared at that screen for about five minutes before you snapped back into reality. You looked up to the new professor, who was now writing on the board his name. You thought it was kinda weird, cause like, who the fuck would not know his name?

"What the fuck am I going to do?" you thought, feeling that breakdown coming in HOT, "what's a girl to write about?"

But anyway, he was so fine. You could definitely scope out his dad body under it, causing you to get overwhelmed with anxiety and not gonna lie a little hot down there. But, now was not the time for another shit, despite how much your body's immediate reaction was to do so. Not you're fault you have IBS. Imagine what he would think of you if you asked to go to the bathroom? Ew, gross. You'd much rather wake up to find a lizard stuck to your nipple pasty from the night before on your dresser again, that you had to set free and say sorry to than ever give him the HINT that you, a girl, pooped.

You looked back down to your screen. Because of your inactivity, the screen went black and you were left seeing your reflection.

And then it hit you.

Fuck him thinking how you poop....

GIRL LOOK AT YOURSELF! YOU STILL GOT THAT BENDER SHIRT ON! PEDRO SAW YOU IN YOUR CRUSTY STATE OH FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You began to fully panic, feeling your breath go short and the hysteria creeping in. It drove you crazy as you looked around you, freaking the fuck out that you were sticking out in the crowd of students, not only physically but emotionally. You did NOT want to be that one kid that cries in class. Or have a freakout. Like time and place. What ever happened to you doing it at her birthday dinner?

You felt yourself begin to black out. Why today? Why why why oh my god this is not good. Girl. This is not fun or fresh.

You tried to at least fix your hair. It was picked up in a hair clip, with two strands in the front hanging out. You ran your fingers over them to make them look at least presentable, but the more you ran your fingers the greasier they got. Now you just had two, greasy ass strands of hair hanging out in the front of you. Great.

BUT WAIT!

"Timmy, I need you to do me like, the biggest favor a girly can ask for."

He looked over to you, annoyed that you interrupted what he thought was going to be his magnum opus. You glanced at the screen - the man had already written eight pages worth of material. There was no way, you definitely got the vibe he plagiarized but whatever now's not the time.

"What? Don't you see I'm busy?"

"I need you to cough, like, really fucking loud, on some tuberculosis shit." You reached down into your bag and shuffled through, finding your Vanilla scented dry shampoo. You smiled, relieved.

Mama's gonna put this to work...

"What? Why?"

"Just fucking do it okay? Jesus Christ, you're literally an actor it's your job to fake shit," you held it up, as inconspicuously as you could, but let's be real the bottle is huge cause you just HAD to get the biggest one from Ross for eight dollars. "On the count of three. One, two, three -"

You had your fingers on those strands, and the moment you said 'three' you went apeshit. They were covered in a thin layer of white, the smell stunting you a bit in its power and it's cloud surrounding you like you hit an obnoxiously large vape.

At the same time, Timmy let out the loudest, thickest, most bronchitis-esque, cough he could. It definitely worked, since everyone in the class gave him heavy side eyes instead of you, who by that time had already dropped the can back into your bag and was already going to work by rubbing the white shit deep into those strands.

The cough must've been extremely powerful, as Timmy Tim Timmy's eyes welled up. He turned to you.

"Is that it?" he asked, his voice resembling the Breaking Bad man from earlier.

You smiled, biting your tongue. "That's it, girl. See? I told you, you're such an actor. It sounded very believable."

"Really?" he lit up a bit, albeit still looking sickly.

"Yeah, like, if you were in France during the bubonic plague era and you coughed like that, your ass would've definitely been, like, grass," you told him. "Trust me, I know a lot about that time in history." You felt so much better, not only had your anxiety seemingly slipped away but you loved hyping your girls up. It's what bffs are supposed to do, after all.

You looked back into the reflection of your laptop. The white had pretty much been dispersed, and now instead of it looking matted like it was greasy, it just looked matted as if you underestimated how much spray you actually put. Oops!

"Whatever, it'll have to fucking do", you thought.

You then opened that Word doc again, your confidence stirring a need to create! Now just what should you write about -  

"Hey! What do you have so far?"

And just like that - time stood fucking still.

You turned your head just a bit to the side and there he was. Tall, in his cardigan. coffee in his breath.

"Oh my God, hey professor! Yeah, let me just go ahead here and," you closed the blank Word doc and began to look through your other saved files. Anything. You need SOMETHING. You looked and looked, all while under the pressure of his presence.

You scrolled through all your gibberish, from late night questionable depression journal entries to your outdated resume, to your notes app, to your weird and obscure lists - you just needed something. And you needed it fast.

"Yeah like it should be here," your voice trembled, but you tried your best to mask it as you just being a giggly, happy girl, "I don't know why it closed! So silly! Soooo silly of me! So so silly -"

And then you found it.

You cringed, but it would have to do.

"Here it is!" you looked up to him. His face sent you chills down your entire conceivable body. It was really him.

"Great, what is it? And why does it smell sweet?" his nose scrunched up in the air, trying to find exactly what that smell was. He looked like a wine connoisseur.  

"Oh, the vanilla?" you said, "that's my body spray!"

He made an impressed face. "I like it. Strong. It's telling you it's vanilla, for sure. Anyway, what is it you wrote?"

You glanced at the open entry on the notes app. No how the fuck were you gonna explain this. You really would've just rather tell him you didn't have shit.

"Um, well, so I don't know if you're like familiar, but there are these things," you really tried. But now you've been caught. Caught in 4K like boys say. "Have you ever heard of POVs?"

"You mean, like fan fiction?"

"Uh, yeah actually. Exactly that."

Though you couldn't see him, you felt Timmy give you a look. He knew what it was. He knew exactly what it was. You saw the first episode of Last of Us when it aired and you just had to open your phone and go to town writing a fan fiction that was also never meant to see the light of day. Let alone the light of Joel himself....

"Okay, interesting. Even though I don't think it's what I asked you guys to do, I'll give it a shot!" he sat on the empty desk to the other side of you, turned your laptop to him, and you sat there, every bit of your self-respect and esteem draining out of you as you watched his eyes move side to side reading the lines.

Let's just say, it was a little NSFW! In fact, it wasn't safe at all. It was horned up and just bad. Unintelligible. Incoherent.

Some minutes went by and you were actually pretty surprised you managed to stay somewhat composed. Really it was your power and ability to disassociate in highly stressful situations to thank. You just fixated on the clock, reminiscing about how being in high-school had you reading the time in a matter of seconds, waiting for that bell to ring. But now, looking at it made that comment Timmy Tim made about being a blind Jackson Pollack hit home.

You clocked back to reality and looked to him. He was deep in thought, deep in the reading. His head rested on his hand and his finger was held at his mouth like those old TikTok's of "pov: you stopped by your English teacher's class during lunch and she's eating a salad" bullshit. His eyebrows were furrowed. It really wasn't that much so you weren't sure why he was taking long.

Moments later, a single tear ran down his face. He slowly and gently shut the laptop closed. He looked as if he had just seen an anal prolapse for the first time but was desensitized enough to not illicit a crazy reaction, but be completely numb as if he used to play the Reddit 50/50 game during his pastime when he was younger.

This actually made you somewhat hopeful. Was your work that groundbreaking it made him cry?

It was now just the two of you, you felt like there was no one else in the world besides you two, now sharing this moment.

"Oh my God, was it like, good?" you asked, in your bimbo self.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He then put them back on, stood up straight, and let out a deep breath.

"No," he said lowly, "it's fucking really bad. It..... it stinks," he pinched is nose.

You didn't realize but in your fixated daze on the clock, you had little to no sensation in your bowel area therefore no control of them and you let out some farts during his reading that now cumulated into a fart cloud hanging around y'all.

Your eyes widened.

"Sorry, it's my body spray!" you smiled sheepishly, instead you looked fucking psychotic.

"I thought you said your body spray was vanilla?"

"Bath and Body Works sometimes isn't all that good! Or maybe mine just expired, who knows!" you mustered up, "But anyway, what did you think, professor?"

He rose and leaned into your ear. "I think you and I need to talk about this in private. Let's rehearse in my apartment after class."

He then left your desk.

Your ass was left SAT! You still had goosebumps all over your neck and those hairs were standing - did he just invite you to his apartment to 'rehearse'? The fuck does that mean? Is this even ethical? Who knows and who cares cause you're not just gonna go ahead and say no.

"What was that all about?" Timmy asked. "Why did he cry?"

"Timmy, I think he just invited me to his apartment."

Your friend then did the most soyest face a white man can possibly soy face. "Y/N! What?"

You hushed his ass down. "Shut up, I don't want him to hear!"

You looked over to Mr. Pedro Pascal, now talking to other students. No way you just secured this. That dry shampoo was the best call you made in a while.

After the bell rang, you walked out of class with Timmy Tim Timmy at your side, back down the stairs. Just as you were descending, you heard that all too familiar voice.

"Y/N!"

You and your friend turned. Mr. Pedro Pascal was walking towards you. You swear you could hear Timmy's bones chattering from nervousness.

"Hey professor!" you said.

"Oh, you don't need to call me that. Pedro's fine," he looked to your Tim Tim, "hey, I know you - you were in, uh, what's that movie called?" He began snapping his fingers as he tried to think.

Timmy laughed, pretty modestly, as Pedro tried remembering, embarrassed. "Oh, don't worry about it. You've probably seen me in Lady Bird, Call Me By -"

"Oh, no wait! I remember! Interstellar! Yeah you were amazing in that," he turned to you. You felt a rocket of anxiety go up your ass. "Anyway, Y/N, I thought, since my place is like a couple blocks away, we could go there now together. I would really like to work on your story."

"Of course, Pedro! Let's go!"

You and Pedro left Timmy standing there, clueless. You didn't really feel bad leaving him. He had to know that right now, it was all about you. It's what a good wing-girl would do.

As you and Pedro were descending down the steps talking about whatever mumbo jumbo, you saw these two men dressed in black suits talking at the front desk. You weren't sure why, but something was alarming about them. You thought for a moment that since it's an acting school or whatever, it might've been two dudes recreating Men in Black. But, no. No, something deep inside you was telling you that these two men had no interest in Will Smith OR Tommy Lee Jones.

"Huh," Pedro said, also seeing them. "What's the IRS doing here?"

Oh. Fuck.

It all made sense. Always trust your intuition, honestly. And speaking of tuition - that's what they were probably here for. You taking off with student loans that you had no intention of paying back before you left to Colombia, your fraudulent GoFundMe page - your past was catching up to you. And now, they were here. Right here.

"Mama ain't letting no Uncle Sam ruin her chances with Pedro", you told yourself. "Mama ain't letting that happen."

"Hey, Pedro! Have you ever seen the back of this place?" you asked, stopping the two of you from reaching the landing.

He stopped. "What? Do you mean, like the alleyway?"

"Yes, exactly! The front doors, they're like, broken!"

"Oh, that's what I thought too. Remember, the glasses?" he pointed to them, "Can't see. But the people at the front desk said they're not you just have to press the button -"

You gripped his hand and yanked him down the stairs, making a sharp turn down the hall towards the back alley door. Pedro, too much in shock, just started running too. He then began to laugh because of how crazy and not like the other girls you were being right now.

You glanced behind and there they were - the men in black - high-tailing it after you. They were not playing around. You couldn't be caught, no, not now!

You ran faster, faster, faster! It was what you knew best! Your feet smacked that floor like crazy!

Once you two made it to the back alley door, you stopped and analyzed your surroundings. In the distance, you saw those two men - but you knew you had to make a decision.

You looked to your left and on the wall, you saw it. The fire alarm.

You gripped it, pulling the fuck out of down, causing the loud ass alarms to begin blaring. The sprinklers were now turned on, drenching everything in water. People began freaking the fuck out, running out the door but crashing into it as they forgot too, it was broken.

The rush of adrenaline fueled through you as you saw those Men in Black slip and fall on the floor. The makeshift little waterpark you just made just bought you enough time to officially make it out!

"Why would you do that, Y/N? Are you crazy, that's illegal!" Pedro yelled at you, still somewhat excited.

"Because, uh," you thought of something to say, anything but you possibly being labeled as a fugitive, "because the thoughts! The intrusive ones, you know?"

His worried face soon calmed down. He laughed, relieved, "oh, yeah. Man, I hate those. We should probably go!"

You pushed the back alley door open, and just like that, you were out!

You weren't completely sure how far you two ran, but it was definitely far enough from those agents. Though still drenched in water, you soon ran off a lot of the water off.

You looked to Pedro, who, frankly, you forgot momentarily was with you. He had a gleeful, fun smile on his face. The city was passing you two quickly, it felt like some climax to some dramatic ass movie. Very much so the end of How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days-esque.

"You're crazy, Y/N, you know that? Like you're not well!"

"Yeah, so funny whatever," you rushed, "maybe we should go to your apartment now?"

You kept looking behind him, making sure the Men in Black hadn't caught up to you in their hyper speed, but it was hard to tell because again it's New York and everyone's in a suit? You literally just looked insane and paranoid.

"Yeah, I guess we just have to Uber there 'cause we're pretty far. Do you have the app?"

"Uh, yeah def," you opened your phone and realized you were shaking. You couldn't let Pedro see that so you turned your back to him. He was confused, but not offended enough to ask why you did that.

And then you forgot - the bottom half of your screen literally doesn't work. Every time you went to Apple they swore they fixed it but it would then bug out and stop working. It was a toxic cycle tbh and you really did need a new phone.

You turned back around. "Sorry, Pedro. I don't have the app, maybe we should just get a taxi instead? You know, support local businesses?"

He agreed and you two began flagging down yellow cabs, but none stopped. You hated when they did that. Ain't that your job?

One finally stopped, and Pedro opened the door for you like the gentlemen he is. You sat your big fat butt into it and closed the door. Just as Pedro was walking around on the other side to sit beside you, you looked up at the driver.

Ain't. No. Fucking. Way.

"Nathan?" you said, exasperated.

The Canadian named Nathan Fielder turned to see you, also exasperated. "Holy Crêpe! Y/N?"

"Na fuck this," you hopped back out and slammed that door SHUT! People outside the cab must've thought you saw a rat from how quickly you exited that vehicle.

"Y/N? What is it?" Pedro asked, just before he entered himself.

"Pedro, I actually just realized I'm more of a walker," you said. "Like, on some Walking Dead shit."

He shrugged, closed the door and you two began to walk down to his apartment with no questions asked. Jesus, what more could go wrong today? But no biggie cause you were literally going to Pedro Pascal's apartment!

As you two began down the sidewalk, you felt this force, this inclination to turn back. You swore you've felt this before, almost like deja vu. You weren't comfortable at all with it, but you also felt there would be some relief giving in...

You turned.

And there it was.

The Russian RuPaul furby. That was it, that was the rat.

He was sat in front of the back window of Nathan's cab as he drove it away into the sea of cars, waving its little paw at you, with nothing behind his drag queen eyes.

Fucking monsters...you thought, shuddering at it.

"Hey, you okay?"

You turned to Pedro. He seemed really concerned.

"Oh my God, yeah! You just always have to watch your back, you know? Never know who's an opp!"

"An 'opp'?"

"I forgot, you're a boomer. Can we stop by McDonald's on the way to your place?"

"Yes, I'm starving!" he said. You loved a McDonald's buddy.

Okay let's do time jump you're in the apartment okay it's a nice cute little New York apartment you get the vibes alright cool.

It was now evening, and the sun began to set, casting that golden hour glow into the living room. It had already been a couple hours in, and nothing had yet happened. Pedro was sat on the couch, now looking at a printed out version of your story after he had revised a lot of it, reviewing. You sat on the couch in front of him, and you two were deep in talk about the story.

"-so, I think besides some, you know, grammatical error and stuff, it'd be perfect!"

"Really? Aww, thanks, Pedro. This is a lot of help," you said. "To be honest, I would've never thought that this story would have been read by anyone else but me."

"What do you mean? This is way too good to just be closed off in that Notes app of yours."

There was some moment of silence, as he continued to read the story and you sat there wondering when this 'rehearsing' was going to take place. After all, a girl's had a rough day today. And it was about to get rougher. And not in the sexual way you perv.

"Buzz buzz buzzzzzz", your phone said. You shifted your butt to grab your phone, checking the new notifications. Since the bottom half no longer worked, you need to flip it from vertical to horizontal to back to vertical to access iMessage. It was from Timmy.

iMessage from My bff Timmy Tim 🍑

You clicked it open.

My bff Timmy Tim 🍑: Y/N, call me when you can. It's bad.

You typed back.

You: What is it? A girl's busy.

My bff Timmy Tim 🍑: Did you set off the fire alarm???

You thought to yourself. What the fuck was a girl supposed to say? You had to explain this in person, not through text. It could NOT possibly translate well that way. You instead opted to send a  GIF.

You:

My bff Timmy Tim 🍑: bitch tf???? Y/N, they're saying you could be expelled from the school! You're going to get kicked out of the dorm!

Your asshole tightened at the news. You grew so angry, like, why can't a girl just live? There's literal murders out on the street. Like, chances are someone's doing insider trading on Wall Street as we speak. So what if a girl got $30,000 of her own money and decided to pull on the fire alarm that LITERALLY says "pull" on it?

"Well maybe next time they should put "don't pull" fucking toads", you thought.

"Something wrong, Y/N?" Pedro asked.

You looked up and quickly put your phone away. You smiled again, trying in a reassuring way but again instead you looked manic.

You shrugged. "Ain't no thang but a chicken wang!"

He rose and stretched. "Hey, I have a dinner I need to go to. It's with my bff, Oscar Isaac? You know him, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Can I come?"

He stopped, froze even. He looked at your shirt then back to you. "Um, well, it's really just an actor thing, you know. Business."

"No of course! I get it! I'll get out of the way for you!"

You rose, grabbed the extra copy of your story and quickly walked out, preventing Pedro from seeing your face - as you were on the verge of having an entire breakdown. Your eyes welled up as you ran down the hallway, into the stairwell.

You hid behind the door, hearing Pedro's calls for you, but again you'd rather set another lizard free than have him see you.

You sat down on the stairs after brushing some litter off to the side. Tears ran down your face, you looked down at the paper. You dropped your head down, defeated. Why wasn't anything literally going right? You would've rather missed class altogether!

Some tears fell down your face and dropped onto the paper. You decided to look over it again, specifically the last paragraph, reading what Pedro read:

"Joel pushed the door of your Boston apartment open, exhausted as always. He plopped himself on the couch, hand to his head.

You walked around the corner, in your panties and vintage "Team Aniston" baby tee.

"Aww, are you tired, Joel? Long day?"

"Yeah," he said in his grumpy, low tone.

"Nothing a hug could've solve!" you said, before pouncing on top of him. You hugged him, and he hugs tightly back, he then throws you on the hard floor and you feel his member pressed against your leg. He begins kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fight for dominance but you let him win. He eventually starts going down on you, taking your "Team Aniston" tee off, and starts kissing your labia.

"This...this is a labia," he says.

You lift your legs as he begins to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He holds your foot up and raises himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes are closed, ready to take the boy from Texas in. This is it. No clickers, no Robert, no cordyceps, nothing - just you and Joel."

You stopped reading any further. You didn't realize, but you had a goofy little smile on. You really thought about posting it on Tumblr for the girlies. You got up, feeling a little better now all the tears were out and with a new task on your mind - get your shit from your dorm as you were now probably expelled, and get to work on that fanfic for the girlies!

You got another buzz buzz on your phone and pulled it out.

It was a FaceTime from Timmy Tim 🍑

You answered it.

"Hey Timmy!" you mumbled through boogers and tears.

"Oh my God, did you guys have sex?"

"Bitch does it look like it? I'm literally crying!"

"I don't know, I know you tend to cry after."

"That's sensitive information, Timothee. I'll crack you in half, right before Kylie's BBL ass does!"

"Yeah well that's for the Statistics rap threat, loser ass bitch! So what ended up happening? I don't like seeing my girls down in the dumps."

"He literally just revised my story. That's it. And then went to go eat dinner with Oscar Isaac, you know, your dad. He's such a fucking flake!" you whined, "what's a girl to do in this Big Apple? I just want a dilf sometimes that's it!"

"My dad?"

"Um, yeah. Star Wars or whatever."

"You mean Dune," he corrected.

"Man, you LOVE correcting me! Whatever. Anyway I gotta go, a girl's gotta keep her hopes up in all of this!"

"Come over, Y/N. We'll watch something to get your feelings back up and order boba! You win some, you lose some but what matters is that you'll always have your girls!"

"Oh my God you're the best Timmy I'm on my way as we speak!"

You hung up and bolted for the exit, the fan fiction will just have to wait you guess!

Hope you guys enjoyed!

xoxo,

~Sam St. Clair

[papa-evershed]

Hellooooo! Here’s me crashing into your ask box to wish you a very happy, happy birthday!

I thought I’d ask you if you can remember some specific scenes/moments from a show and/or movie that triggered your “Oh, I need to gif this IMMEDIATELY!” desire.

And please do go ham on your reply, you know very well how much I enjoy them.

Have an amazing day! 🧡

Hey!!! I fucking love you! I don't know how the hell you manage to to do everything you do, but now you've gone and inspired me to start a fandom-friends birthday calendar. 😂😂 I legit admire how you always reach out to people and remember everyone!! But thank you so much for the birthday wishes, it's been a pretty good day so far so I can't complain! 🥰

As for moments I just had to gif?! There's been a fuck ton throughout the years and the men. 😅I'll answer under a cut for length and lets see what all my old lady brain can remember. 👵 I apologize in advance for how long this could potentially get and just how random the gifs probably are. I never feel inspired to gif cool scenes with witty dialogue, I just gif for thirst reasons because I'm a dumpster of a human. ETA: It got really long and didn't even scratch the surface tbh.

For Rob, I'll start with this one. I feel like I post it every time someone asks me about my favorite gifs or moments but listen, that man's god damn belly makes me feral. The context of the scene is also just peak Dad™ for me so it was 10000/10, absolutely had to gif this the second I watched:

This is an interview but you know when you first start checking out a new dude and you see gifs from interviews/shows where they look particularly tasty and you're immediately like I must find this and watch it or else I will perish. That was this interview for me. And how could it not be? Again...BELLY. Hairy belly. Just big, soft, delicious man meat. And thighs. As soon as I found it I had to gif it for myself so I could make it as obnoxiously big as humanly possible.

I watched this zoom live and the moment this motherfucker turned his head my brain said "gif it". Profile? Nose? Greys?

And this shot too. This man was fucking born to smile, he puts his whole ass into it.

This. His arms here. This scene was dark af but I knew I had to gif it anyway. I adore the shape of this man. It feels so fucking real to me. Soft belly, sizeable arms that still look natural. It's realistic, it's comfy, it's fucking sexy. He's just fucking man-shaped.

I don't even have to tell you why because I know you get it.

I'm an American what do you want from me? 🤡 I'm just kidding, it's not because of the gun. 😅IDK if you've watched Downton, but Thomas is just such a fucking capable man. There isn't a task they set him to that he doesn't excel at and I just felt like it was always overlooked and underappreciated by everyone around him. That shot and scene inspired an entire gifset I made about him being a man of many talents.🤓

I can't even explain it, I just knew I needed it. He just looks so man sized. And fuzzy. Just...go off daddy.

You and I both know I'd suck a dick for a good profile shot. The greys, the nose, the man...👀

I can't post all the gifs from this scene/episode so I'll settle for this one. But I knew immediately I'd be giffing it until my fingers hurt (that legit happens y'all, I'm old 👵) Not only did he spend some time in this episode being the soft, caring uncle but he did it in a cozy sweater and it was like they were sure to hit all my weaknesses at once. Soft cozy men? 👀Then they were kind enough to give us the most beautiful close-up shots of his face. And the boy just has a beautiful fucking face.

For old times' sake, I'm gonna include some Jon just for you but to be fair, I liked him for seven damn years so there were a lot. Too many to list or even remember. But here's a few that maybe aren't the obvious shots!

This one. I remember everyone losing their shit over his ass but I was losing my mind over that "soft flash of belly" (really, I was always fangirling the hardest over scenes where Jon looked softer than he really was so we shouldn't be shocked I eventually left for a man with a beer belly 😅)

Speaking of which, this scene too!

And of course, anytime he was covered in blood. I think I actually giffed this exact shot 5 or 6 different times.

And, the obligatory back of his head shot. There are so many here I could post because pretty much anytime I saw the back of Jon's head I immediately needed a gif of it but we'll go with this one, it was probably slept on a little bit.

Alright this is long enough! Bless anyone for reading this long. 😳 But legit, thanks for the fun ask and for the birthday wishes, Stef! 🥰🥰 Your kindness is one of the reasons I will always appreciate having been in Jon's fandom!

[annetictac]

Trying for the first time to post on tumblr.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to Taylor Swifts music, no commercial purposes involved, nor to I own anything related to Max Verstappen or any F1 related. This is a work of fiction.

LIKE I USED TO WATCH YOU SLEEP

CHAPTER 1

Her voice comes clearly through the living room as if she was standing in the middle of it. He could recognize it anywhere. It had been more than two years since he last heard her speak candidly. He stops abruptly, Daniel bumping into him as a result.

“Wha-”, The aussie driver begins but stops once he sees Max’s ex face plastered all over his TV speaking animatedly about a song or a beat or something musical. Max is not capable of discerning because he can’t stop thinking she looks the same, but all different at the same time. Her nose still wrinkles when she smiles truthfully, her red tinted lips still go sideways when she is in deep thought. Her hair is different, it’s not as curled as it used to be. A discreet cough from Daniel interrupts him. A knowing glance from his teammate signals that Kelly has said something and is giving him a look. The recording has been paused in the middle of one of her big smiles, eyes looking straight into the camara, all across the living room right into him.

“What are you watching?” he asks quickly trying not to give into her quizzical look. He scratches the back of his neck like he always does when he’s nervous.

“Oh, everyone is talking about it, the documentary is finally out!” she gushes ignorant of your past history with the protagonist of her latest obsession. He didn’t even know she was such a fan.

“The documentary?” he wonders out loud not to anyone in particular. Kelly turns to give him a playful shake of her head.

“Honest to God! How can you not know about it?”, she questions smile wide. “If it doesn’t have wheels, it’s not interesting for Mr. World Champion?” She giggles at her own joke without expecting you to join her. Daniel bumps his shoulder once she turns, giving him another knowing look. “Basically, she has been documenting the making of the last album, and since it’s been such a huge boom- no phenomenon! - and they are also preparing the World Tour…” he stops paying attention going to the kitchen to grab a beer since he shouldn’t be getting hammer over a documentary, not when he’s supposed to be prepping for racing. Daniel follows him, grabs another and doesn’t say anything ‘til the sound of the beer popping open interrupts the awkward silence.

“I didn’t know you still avoided anything An-” he stops himself before saying her name, dramatically replacing it. “-her related”. He takes a gulp not knowing what to answer.

“I didn’t either”, he mumbles, taking another gulp.

“I thought everything was going good with-”, Daniel signals with his beer the living room, signalling Max’s current girlfriend. Max glances across the island top where the documentary is back on, his former girlfriend is playing the guitar, eyes closed, the melody as always familiar.

He doesn’t answer, walking to the couch where Kelly is sitting, legs crossed, hugging a pillow, following the lyrics with eyes watering. Max doesn’t see this, like a siren her voice calls him and he obeys listening the melody and the lyrics with goosebumps all over.

So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep,

And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe,

And I'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are,

Hope it's nice where you are,

The camera man has been strategically placed and her eyes open as if aware of something, as she sings the end of the song. Eyes shining, her face visibly emotional.

“This is probably one of my favourite songs of yours, and that’s saying something!” the interviewer comments while she takes off her guitar. “Where did you get the inspiration?”

The camara has not left her face, the interviewer out of sight. That’s when he sees the small second of awkwardness in your face, before it’s replaced by confidence and determination.

“A little bit of heartbreak here and there,” she says smiling wide.

PART 2 IS POSTED

[rindouheart]

Hello how are you ? I would have liked to ask you if you could write scenarios about Noël Noa and Itoshi Sae (separated) where they fall in love with a journalist please

NOËL NOA and ITOSHI SAE falling in love with a journalist 🎋

content. fluffy boys being cute + gender neutral s/o <3

author’s note. hi cutie! sorry for being this late, i’ve been quite busy with school, sorry! hope you enjoy + my french is a bit rusty, tell me if i’ve misspelled something.

NOËL NOA

“so, how was playing alongside blue lock’s young players?” your colleague asks to translate.

you turn your head towards the football player and translate the sentence. first, you’re a journalist, but in your group, you’re also the only who can fluently speak multiple languages. you’re not specialised in the sport field, however, knowing four languages brought you the opportunity to work in many other contexts.

noa is absolutely stunned by your fluency when speaking french, you’re almost as good as a native. he wonders how much effort you had to put into learning languages. japanese is pretty different from european languages, especially because of the alphabet and the sentences’ structure.

“merci à vous pour votre disponibilité” you thank him after finishing the interview. he loves how cute your japanese accents sounds.

noa is almost tempted to ask you if you’d like to ask a couple more questions, just to hear you speaking french again. however, a bunch of other journalists is coming towards him, so he wouldn’t have enough time to answer to everyone.

he can see your name and the newspaper you work for before you leave, though. he saves a mental note to look for you during the next interview or conference, and who knows, he might ask you what he hasn’t asked you today.

ITOSHI SAE

sae wasn’t expecting to find someone like you to interview him after his return to japan. he’s always been used to those old journalists who have been in the industry for like, what? a century or so? you are quite a surprise to him.

“welcome back, itoshi, so, how was your adventure in europe?” you ask him through your microphone, waiting for his answer. you’re not just pretty, your voice is also nice to hear.

while he’s answering with all the details about how the team acted towards him and such, sae looks at you, taking notes about his answer.

he swears he’s never seen you before. however, you might be one of the most famous journalists in japan, since he’s been abroad for a long time.

at the end of his conference, when everyone is leaving, he walks towards you and, when he’s sure that no one is listening, sae asks for your name.

“are you new in the field? i mean, it might have been because i’ve not been around, but your face seems new to me” he questions. you nod in response “i’ve been working as a journalist for a couple of months now. the newspaper i write for isn’t as big as many others, but i personally love my job”

“i’ve noticed it, you look much more professional than any other one in the room” you smile after hearing his compliment. oh god, your smile. sae is completely lost.

“would you like to get a coffee or something with me? we can chat a bit and i can tell you some exclusives to add on your article” he asks.

when you accept gladly, sae smiles. he’s totally fallen for you and he won’t give up so easily.

@rindouheart ‘s scenarios — 02092023