#narco-state

[pinchofhoney]

the last goodbye, part two

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

« part one | part two

pedro pascal x fem!reader

world count: 5.2k

warning: angst, age gap (the reader is in her mid 20s), mention of smoking, mention of drinking alcohol

summary: All men do is messing with your head.

a/n: i’m incredibly proud of myself that the first part evoked such emotions in you. i was totally not expecting this, as i wrote it at a time when i wasn’t in a good place mentally, feeling terrible after losing my pet. if you feel disappointed by the lack of gripping action, i apologize (not really). i don't want to rush things, i want their emotions to sink into your soul✨

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @alexxavicry @babypeapodd @domaniquessidehoe @one-sweet-gubler @danelhi @pedroholicx @rosaliedepp @phoenixinthewater @blu3flame @hummusxx @onceandfuturereader @marysucks-blog @sloanexx @nxt-zen @secretdazeobservation​ 

As you slowly emerged from the depths of sleep, your tired eyes flickered open, gradually adjusting to the blinding brightness of the white ceiling looming above you. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you struggled to shake off the weariness that clung to your body like a heavy blanket. It was difficult to tell how many hours you had slept, but it certainly didn't feel like enough.

You shifted your weight and let out a groan as your muscles protested against the movement. The events of the past few days had been a whirlwind, leaving you drained and achy. It's funny how mental anguish can affect your body. With a sense of resignation, you rolled over onto your side, wincing at the pain that shot through your joints. Your hand fumbled around in the air until it found the offending alarm clock, blaring its obnoxious tune throughout the bedroom.

You muttered a curse under your breath as you pressed the button to silence the alarm. Despite your reluctance to start the day, you knew that you couldn't afford to linger in bed any longer. With a deep breath, you swung your legs over the edge of the mattress and forced yourself to stand up. Another day, another- You wished you could say slay, but not today. Another set of challenges to face? More likely.

As you sluggishly made your way towards the bathroom, thoughts of Pedro crept back into your mind. It had only been two weeks since he broke up with you, but it felt like an eternity. The pain was still raw and fresh, and you struggled to make sense of it all.

Every moment you had shared with him played out in your mind like a movie, and you analyzed each one, searching for some clue, some sign of what went wrong. But it was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces – there was no explanation, no clear reason why he had ended things so abruptly.

You had loved him with all your heart and trusted him like no one before, but in the end, he had shattered your heart into a million pieces, leaving you to pick up the fragments and try to put them back together. The moment Pedro said those fateful words, the trust you had built up in him crumbled to dust in the blink of an eye. And now, you found yourself spiraling into an absurd mania, constantly questioning whether anyone in your life would leave you just like he did.

The fear of being abandoned consumed you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that everyone you cared about was destined to disappear. It was a toxic mindset, but it was deeply ingrained in you since childhood and one that you couldn't seem to escape.

On the one hand, you wanted to reach out to your friends, to let out all the pain and heartbreak that you've been holding in, but at the same time, you didn't want to burden them with your problems or risk pushing them away, so instead, you buried your emotions deep inside, hiding behind a mask of indifference and detachment. It was easier that way, at least you tried to tricked yourself in believing it was. But the truth was, the pain was eating away at you from the inside out, and you didn't know how much longer you could keep up that fake smile.

There was nothing you wanted more than to go back in time, to before everything fell apart, to the days when you were happy and carefree, but you knew that wasn't possible. All you could do was try to pick up the pieces and move forward, even though it felt like an impossible task.

Your days had become a blur of schoolwork and long shifts at the movie theater. It was a grind, but it kept you busy and distracted from the pain of your shattered heart. At least, that's what you thought, again.

Despite your best efforts to move on, your mind kept drifting back to Pedro. Every time you walked by the coffee shop where you used to have your morning cup of coffee with him, you couldn't help but look inside, hoping he would be there. You even went inside a few times, ordered a coffee, and sat down, pretending to read a book or browse your phone, all while stealing glances around the room. But he was never there, and you always left feeling disappointed and foolish.

Even going to the gym in the evenings, which used to be your solace, had become a source of anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling that everyone there knew about your breakup with Pedro and was silently judging you. As you ran on the treadmill, you felt self-conscious and exposed, as if all your flaws and vulnerabilities were on display for everyone to see.

And yet, despite all of this, you still couldn't resist the urge to go to the places where you used to go with Pedro. You found yourself walking past his favorite pizza place, just to catch a whiff of the familiar scent of marinara sauce and melted cheese. You even drove by his street once, just to see if his car was parked outside his house. You knew it was ridiculous, but you couldn't help yourself. The pain of losing him was too great, and the thought of never seeing him again was almost unbearable.

Actually saying that you will never see him again was an overstatement. Despite the heartbreak he had caused you, he was the hottest topic in entire Hollywood and beyond. His star power had skyrocketed, and his charming looks and hoarse laughter made (not only) teenage girls swoon all over the world. His photos and videos seemed to be everywhere, constantly popping up on your Instagram and Twitter feeds, taunting you with reminders of what you had lost. He was a viral sensation, and it was impossible to escape the constant barrage of Pedro's updates – a stark reminder that he was out there living his life while you were struggling to move on.

You stood in front of the mirror, studying your reflection with a heavy heart. Your once bright eyes were now surrounded by a rim of redness, and dark circles that looked like bruises appeared to have taken permanent residence beneath them. Your hair was a mess, its strands sticking out in every direction, as if it was trying to mimic the chaos you felt inside. Your skin was pale and lifeless, a far cry from its former glowing self. Just fourteen days ago, you were a different person, filled with happiness, with Pedro by your side. And now, everything was in shambles.

You shook off the memories and forced yourself to focus on the present, on getting dressed and making it to your classes on time. It was a challenge, but you tried to keep thoughts of Pedro at bay, knowing that dwelling on the past would only make the pain worse. You grabbed your bag, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the streets of Los Angeles.

As you stepped out into the blinding glare of the sun, the sounds of the bustling city enveloped you. Cars honked, people chatted, and a cool breeze caressed your face, but everything seemed distant and unimportant. You repeated to yourself the mantra to take things one step at a time, hoping that each step would lead you closer to healing the wounds Pedro had done to you.

But little did you know, he was also battling his own demons, struggling to come to terms with his actions and the hurt he had caused you. It was a cruel irony that both of you were struggling in your own ways, and neither of you knew the full extent of the other's pain.

“Pedro?” the sound of his own name snapped him out of the recesses of his head and effectively brought him down to earth. He blinked several times, trying to adjust to the bright lights shining in his direction. Looking around, he realized he was on the set of the advertisement he was working on.

The confused director approached him, placing his hands on his hips in a pretentious position. “What's going on, man?” he asked, clearly annoyed. “It's just a minute clip, all you have to say right now is to catch grandma, you have to think like grandma,” he threw his hands in the air in exasperation, then placed the fingers of one hand on the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Pedro tried to focus on the director's words, but his mind was still clouded with thoughts of you. He couldn't believe how he had treated you a day after your first anniversary, telling you that he suddenly stopped having feelings for you and breaking your heart. The day after the anniversary, which he didn't even show up for, because he didn't have the courage to do so. To look into your smiling eyes, having in the back of his mind what he had been planning for some time. The guilt was eating him alive, and he found himself replaying the scene of your breakup in his head over and over again.

He remembered very well how your face crumpled with sadness and confusion as he told you the news. How you asked him to reconsider, to give your relationship another chance. How you cried and asked him what you had done wrong. He didn't have the answers then, and he still didn't have them now.

Pedro's heart simply sank as he realized that he had made a mistake the very next day after the breakup. He had let go of someone who loved him unconditionally, someone who had been there for him through thick and thin. And for what? Because he suddenly stopped feeling the way he used to? He couldn't even be sure if that was true. Perhaps it was just a minor crisis that he could have resolved if he had spoken to you honestly.

The director ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “You know what, Pedro? Take a break. Get some fresh air and clear your head. We can't afford to waste the whole day on this stupid phone game ad. Let's reconvene in 20 minutes,” he barked, his irritation palpable. Without bothering to wait for Pedro's response, he stormed off, leaving Pedro.

His eyes flitted around the room, taking in the frustrated expressions of the crew members. They had all been waiting for him to get his lines right, but he had been too distracted to focus on the task at hand. He was wasting the time and resources of his colleagues and he felt ashamed because of that.

As the director snapped out orders to the rest of the team, Pedro swiped his hand over his tired face, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath his fingertips. He let out a deep sigh, feeling drained both physically and emotionally. His mind was consumed with thoughts of what could have been, of what he had lost because of his own recklessness. He needed some space to clear his head.

Without a word, he left the building and made his way out to the back of one of the buildings in Los Angeles. The cool breeze brushed against his face, providing a much-needed respite from the chaos of the set. He let out a long breath, trying to calm himself.

It wasn't easy to pretend that everything was fine in front of everyone, because it wasn't. Every day it became harder and harder for Pedro to put on a brave face and act like he was okay. He dug out a pack of cigarettes from his blazer pocket and blindly stared into it. He quickly found the lighter in the other pocket and with his slightly shaking hand, he lit the cigarette. The familiar smell and taste of nicotine filled his senses, providing a temporary escape from the overwhelming emotions that consumed him. He leaned against the rough dirt wall of the building, the sound of the bustling city muffled in the distance. The smoke filled his lungs, choking him slightly, but he welcomed the pain, as it was a distraction from the pain in his heart.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He couldn't silence the voices in his head, telling him that he had made a huge mistake by ending things with you. The breakup had hit him harder than he ever imagined it could. He missed you so much, and the regret ate away at him with each passing day. He took another long drag of the cigarette, the tip glowing red.

Despite the comfort that the cigarette provided, Pedro knew it was a bad habit. He had managed to quit a while ago, but the stress of recent events had caused him to slip back into it. He felt guilty for indulging in it again, but at the same time, he didn't care. All he wanted was to forget his troubles, even if it was just for a little while.

Every single day during those two weeks, Pedro's thoughts were consumed by the image of him standing in front of you, while cup your face with his hands and apologizing for everything. He imagined the words he would say to you, begging for your forgiveness and hoping that you would take him back. But as much as he longed to make things right, he was too much of a coward to actually face you. He couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes and see the disappointment he had caused, so he actively avoided all the places where he knew he could potentially run into you. The mere thought of seeing you filled him with a mix of intense longing and paralyzing fear.

He held onto the belief that you wouldn't be able to forgive him and the thought of being rejected by you was too much to him. The fear of embarrassment kept him from reaching out and trying to make amends, even though he knew deep down that he wanted nothing more than to be back in your warm embrace. The possibility of facing your disappointment and disapproval was a daunting prospect, and so he chose to continue avoiding you, hoping that time would eventually make him forget about you.

The sound of a notification coming from his phone snapped him back to reality and he opened his eyes. He fished the device out of his pants pocket and glanced at the screen, noticing a message from his friend, Oscar. He took a drag on the cigarette he had been smoking and read the message.

I was thinking about this birthday party. Do you want me to cancel the invitation for Y/N? – The Grumpy Eagle, sent at 3:14pm.

Pedro had completely forgotten about Oscar's upcoming birthday celebration, which he and his wife Elvira hosted every year. It was a small party, but it had become an annual tradition among their circle of friends. He knew that both of you had been invited long before the two of you broke up, and it was pretty obvious anyway, since he was Oscar's best friend and you had quickly become a favorite of Oscar's wife and kids.

He took another drag on his cigarette, thinking on response. Pedro wasn't sure if you would show up, but he knew that you disliked disappointing people, and skipping out on someone's birthday party would undoubtedly lead to disappointment. Even if you didn't enjoy celebrating your own birthday, you understood that it meant more to others and the happy memories associated with it.

No need to cancel the invitation, that’s fine. I’ll be fine. See you on Tuesday – Sent at 3:17pm.

He took one last puff of the cigarette before flicking it away and making his way back to the set, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of you.

You were in your rented apartment, standing in front of your small closet and talking to your best friend over Facetime. With your back to the screen, you felt on the verge of tears as you realized you had nothing suitable to wear to Oscar's party. The phone was propped up on your bedside table, and you turned to face Xavier's amused expression on the screen.

“I'm about to go crazy,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice. “I can't find anything to wear.”

Xavier chuckled and lay back on his own bed, still visible on the screen. “Relax, Y/N. We'll find something. Let me see what you've got.”

You knelt down at the table and held up a few dresses for him to see. Xavier made a face at each one, shaking his head disapprovingly. Finally, he suggested a simple black dress that you had forgotten you owned.

“That's perfect,” he said, grinning at you. “You'll look amazing. Just throw on some heels and you're good to go.”

“And what are you going to wear?” you asked, taking the phone in both hands and moving it closer to your face.

Since you didn't want to go to the party alone, you decided to bring Xavier with you, even though he didn't know anyone in Pedro's inner circle, including Oscar and Elvira. The only connection Xavier had to Pedro was through you, as they had met a few times before.

He was shocked when he heard about your breakup with Pedro two weeks ago. He had always thought that you and Pedro were perfect for each other, and it came as a surprise when you told him that things had ended between you two. He remembered how happy you had seemed with Pedro, always talking about the little things he did that made you fall even more in love with him. It was hard to believe that it was all over now.

Xavier had been there for you through all the tears and heartbreak that came with the breakup. He was the only person you really talked to about what happened. He had listened to you vent about Pedro, and had even gone as far as to offer to confront him about the way he had hurt you, but you had refused, saying that it wouldn't change anything, and that you just needed time to heal.

Now, as he watched you on Facetime, he could see the sadness in your eyes. He knew that finding something to wear to this birthday party was the least of your worries.

“Oh, you know, my finest t-shirt and jeans,” he answered with a playfully tone. “Maybe I'll even splurge and wear my dress shoes instead of my sneakers.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Don't worry, I'll make sure to tuck my shirt in for the occasion.”

You laughed at Xavier's words, feeling relieved that he could make light of the situation. “Well, make sure you don't outshine me too much,” you teased. “I don't want to be upstaged by your dress shoes and tucked-in shirt.”

Xavier chuckled. “No worries, you'll be the star of the show,” he said reassuringly. “But seriously, don't stress about it. We'll have a good time no matter what.”

His words were comforting and a feeling of appreciation and thankfulness filled your heart. “Thanks, Xavier,” you said, smiling. “I really appreciate you coming with me.”

Xavier grinned. “Of course, what are friends for?” he replied. “Besides, I would do anything to see Pedro's face when he sees you in that dress. He's going to regret ever letting you go.”

You laughed, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the thought of Pedro's reaction. “I doubt he'll care,” you said, shrugging it off. “But it'll be nice to look good for myself, at least.”

Xavier shook his head. “Trust me, he'll care,” he said with a wink and then stood up from his bed, straightening his shirt. “Alright, I better get ready too. I need to iron my jeans and find my fanciest t-shirt,” he joked. “I'll pick you up at 7. See ya!” he said before ending the call, at which you smiled to yourself, feeling grateful for your friend's support.

As you and Xavier made your way to the door of Oscar's house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping up on you. You clutched the gift tightly in your hand, hoping it will help you calm down. You turned to Xavier, about to voice your concerns about this evening, but he beat you to it.

“Hey, it's going to be fine,” Xavier said, sensing your unease. “We'll have a good time. And don't worry about Pedro, I'll not leave you alone even for a moment. When I go to the toilet, I'll drag you along with me,” he joked trying to boost your mood.

You let out a deep sigh. “I'm scared.”

Xavier smiled reassuringly. “I know, but we'll stick together and make the most of it,” he said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “And besides, you look amazing. Pedro's going to regret all of his life choices.”

You couldn't help but feel a little flustered at the compliment. “Thanks,” you said, feeling a little less anxious. “Okay, let's do this.”

As you approached the door, your heart rate started to increase again. You could hear the sound of laughter and chatter from inside grew louder, intensifying your apprehension. But before you could even think about turning back to Xavier's car, Elvira opened the door and greeted you warmly. “Y/N!” she called out joyfully, pulling you into a tight embrace. The familiar scent of Elvira's perfume and the comforting warmth of her hug helped ease your nerves a little bit.

“It's so good to see you,” Elvira continued. “Oscar will be so happy you came. You know damn well how much he liked you.”

You smiled gratefully at her words, while Elvira already shifted her gaze to the man standing next to you.

“And who's this handsome gentleman with you?” Elvira asked, pulling away from you and turning to Xavier.

Xavier extended his hand. “I'm Xavier. Y/N's best friend,” he introduced himself with a smile.

Elvira shook his hand. “I'm Elvira, Oscar's wife. Nice to meet you,” she said warmly.

You suddenly felt an odd need to explain why you brought a stranger to their house, even though you knew that Elvira was aware of the recent events.

“I didn't want to come alone, the last days were-” you started to explain, but Elvira quickly cut you off, sensing your discomfort.

“That's fine, Y/N. You don't need to explain yourself, we both know what happened,” Elvira said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze to encourage you. “Come on in,” she added, motioning towards the open door and stepping aside to let you both enter the house.

As you walked past her, Elvira turned her gaze to Xavier and sent him a warm smile. You couldn't help but feel grateful for her kindness and understanding, and you knew that you were in good hands for the evening.

The birthday party was in full swing, with colorful decorations hanging from the ceiling and walls, and a large cake with lit candles in the center of the room. The scent of savory and sweet treats wafted through the air, making your mouth water.

Oscar was the center of attention, greeting his guests with a big smile and warm hugs. He was surrounded by his closest friends, chatting and laughing away, and occasionally stopping to pose for a picture with them.

You, on the other hand, felt out of place in the midst of the older crowd, except for Oscar's children, who were running around and playing games. You had hoped to have a conversation with Pedro, but he avoided your gaze the entire time, which made you feel uncomfortable and self-conscious.

However, Xavier was by your side throughout the evening, keeping you company and making you laugh with his witty remarks and stories. You introduced him to some of the people at the party, and of course to Oscar, and he encouraged you to dance, which helped you loosen up and enjoy the party a little more.

As the night wore on, the guests started to leave one by one, and the house grew quieter. The children were already fast asleep, and the adults seemed to be in a mellower mood, with lighter snacks and drinks replacing the heavier ones from earlier in the evening.

You found yourself in the kitchen with Xavier, enjoying a lively conversation with Elvira and Oscar about the latest news in the city. Elvira was recounting her recent trip to Europe when Oscar suddenly interrupted her by reaching for a bottle of wine and pouring it into a set of glasses.

“Let's raise a toast to life, to good friends, and to family,” Oscar exclaimed, lifting his glass. You all joined in, clinking your glasses together, laughing and toasting to the good times. The mood had shifted from one of excitement to one of warmth and sentimentality.

As you took a sip of the wine, you noticed Pedro standing at the edge of the room, watching you with an intense gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you felt a strange mix of discomfort and confusion. You had wanted to talk to him earlier in the evening, but he had been avoiding you, so his sudden interest now was puzzling. Feeling the need for comfort and safety, you moved closer to Xavier, feeling his arm wrap around your shoulders. You didn't know if Pedro was still watching you, but you felt better in your friend’s presence.

To your surprise, Pedro suddenly approached the four of you, inserting himself into the conversation. He started to talk about a recent article he had read in the newspaper, bringing up a topic that interested everyone. Xavier and Elvira seemed to welcome his presence, and Oscar was glad to have his longtime friend join in. However, you couldn't shake the feeling that his gaze was still fixed on you, even as he talked with the others.

As the conversation continued, Oscar and Elvira decided to check in with the guests in the living room, leaving you, Xavier, and Pedro alone in the kitchen. The silence was palpable as you all stood there, unsure of what to say or do next. Pedro finally broke the silence, turning his attention to you.

“So, Y/N, I can see that you are having fun?” he asked, his eyes still lingering on you.

You tried to hide your discomfort, forcing a smile and answering politely, “Yeah. I try to, at least.”

It was hard not to notice that Pedro wasn't completely sober – although he wasn't fully drunk either. He kept shooting unpleasant glances at Xavier every now and then and his eyes were colder than always.

Your friend seemed oblivious to Pedro's behavior, but you knew better. You could feel the tension rising in the room, and you started to feel anxious. Pedro's jealousy was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if he still had feelings for you, even though you weren’t a thing anymore.

Trying to diffuse the situation, you asked Pedro how his job was going, hoping to steer the conversation away from any uncomfortable topics. He answered curtly, barely giving you any information, and then turned his attention back to Xavier, sizing him up with a cold stare.

You felt your heart rate increase, sensing that things were about to get out of hand. You knew that you needed to do something, but you weren’t sure what. As you opened your mouth to speak, Pedro cut you off.

“Two weeks were enough for you to find a replacement, huh?”

His question made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Excuse me?”

Pedro's words didn't make sense to you, and you glanced over at Xavier, who looked equally confused. Pedro scoffed and clarified, “I saw you two earlier. I saw the way you look at him, Y/N. And now here you are, pretending to be just friends.”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment and anger. How dare he accuse you of something like that? The jealousy in Pedro's eyes was unmistakable, and it was clear that he didn't believe in your friendship with Xavier, even though he knew him.

Xavier stepped in, sensing the tension rising in the room, his voice calm but firm. “Pedro, let's take a deep breath and calm down for a moment. You’re tipsy, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Pedro wasn't backing down, his eyes fixed on Xavier, even though he was actually speaking to you. “I don't trust him. And I don't trust you, Y/N.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and your heart sank in your chest. You couldn't believe what Pedro was saying. How could he accuse you of being untrustworthy when he was the one who had abandoned you without any explanation? Anger and sadness boiled inside you, making it hard to even form coherent thoughts, and the tears started to gather in your eyes.

“You don’t trust me? You were the one who stood me out on the day of our anniversary. It was you who came to break up with me the next day without giving me any explanation. It was you-you…” the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down your face, mixing with the anger and frustration that you felt. You sniffed and wiped your nose with the back of your hand, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “How dare you tell me that you don't trust me?” you said, your voice shaking with emotion.

Pedro's expression softened slightly, and for a moment, you thought that he might actually apologize for his absurd behavior, but then, his gaze hardened again, and he shook his head.

“I had my reasons,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And I don't need to justify them to anyone.”

You stared at him in silence, trying to make sense of his sudden outburst. He's being unreasonable and irrational, you thought. You shook your head in disbelief and took a step back. “You know what?” you asked, staring into Pedro's eyes. “I will not talk to you. I'm not going to listen to you suddenly make me some kind of scolding because alcohol went to your head. You're a grown man, and you're acting like a kid,” you barked, your anger seeping through every syllable. You then turned your back on Pedro, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry again.

You left him, standing motionless in the kitchen with his eyes fixated on the door through in which you had just disappeared with Xavier. His heart was heavy with regret as he realized that he fucked up again. He knew that he had messed up, that he had let his jealousy and insecurities take control of his words and actions. He desperately wanted to talk to you on this party, to apologize for his behavior and make things right, but now it was too late for that. He had taken a few drinks to calm his nerves, hoping that it would help him find the courage to talk to you, but now he realized that it had only fueled his anger and made things worse. The sight of you laughing and chatting with Xavier had been the final blow, and now he was left alone with his regrets once again.

[onichangiri]

Pedro Pascal for WIRED Magazine

[brexiiton]

Ecuador 'in state of war' against drug cartels' terror campaign

Schools and stores are shuttered, people are staying home as soldiers roam the streets of Ecuador's biggest cities.

Members of Ecuador's armed forces patrol a street during a security operation in the capital, Quito. [AFP]

With city streets largely deserted apart from a massive military deployment, Ecuador found itself in a "state of war" as drug cartels waged a brutal campaign of kidnappings and attacks in response to a government crackdown.

Hundreds of soldiers patrolled the capital, Quito, where residents were gripped by fear over a surge in violence that has also prompted alarm abroad.

The small South American country has been plunged into crisis after years of increasing control by transnational cartels that use its ports to ship cocaine to the United States and Europe.

The latest outburst of violence was sparked by the discovery on sunday of the prison escape of one of the country's most powerful narco bosses, Jose Adolfo Macias, known by the alias "Fito".

On Monday, President Daniel Noboa imposed a state of emergency and nighttime curfew, but the gangs hit back with declaration of "war" - threatening to execute civilians and security forces.

They also instigated numerous prison riots, set off explosions in public places and waged attacks in which at least 14 people have been killed.

More than 100 prison guards and administrative staff have been taken hostage, the prisons authority said.

In the port city of Guayaquil, attackers wearing balaclavas stormed a state-owned TV station on Tuesday, briefly taking several journalists and staff members hostage and firing shots in dramatic scenes broadcast live before police arrived.

Local media reported some of the attackers were as young as 16.

This attack, in particular, spread panic among the general population, many of whom left work and closed shops to return to the safety of their homes.

"Today we are not safe, anything can happen," said Luis Chiligano, a 53-year-old security guard in Quito who explained he was opting to hide rather than confront "the criminals, who are better armed".

Noboa said on Wednesday that the country was now in a "state of war," as he promised not to yield to the gangs.

Ecuador's President Daniel Noboa gave orders on Tuesday to 'neutralise' the criminal gangs after gunmen stormed and opened fire in a TV studio, as bandits threatened random executions. [AFP]

Gangs declared war on the government after Noboa announced a state of emergency following the prison escape pm January 7 of one of Ecuador's most powerful narco bosses. [AFP]

United Nations Secretary-General Antonio Guterres was 'very much alarmed by the deteriorating situation in the country as well as its disruptive impact on the lives of Ecuadorans,' according to his spokesperson Stephane Dujarric. [AFP]

Peru declared a state of emergency on its border with Ecuador, sending an additional 500 police and soldiers to secure the frontier. [AFP]

China's embassy and consulates in Ecuador suspended services to the public, while France and Russia advised citizens against travel to the country. [AFP]

Brian Nichols, the top US diplomat for Latin America, said Washington was 'extremely concerned,' pledging to provide assistance and 'remain in close contact' with Noboa's team [AFP]

Colombia's army also announced it was bolstering border security. [AFP]

Ecuador's murder rate quadrupled from 2018 to 2022 and last year was the worst yet, with 7,800 murders in a population of about 17 million, and a record 220 tonnes of drugs seized. [AFP]

[revindicatedbyhistory]

dragon age the awakening is actually pretty fun. i like high level rpg stuff. i didnt know you had to choose between the cops and the criminals in amaranthinie so i just sort of choose criminals without thinking

[mxtlou]

HAPPY PEDRO DAY

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

[brewsterispunkk]

THANK U @fineosaur FOR TAGGING ME, i LOVE these games !! I will also say, I have too many that have been sitting here for far far farrrr too long. & these will be on ao3, most likely NOT on tumblr if they get published hehe. they’re for the fandoms: triple frontier, asoiaf, narcos, stranger things, and the batman. also apologies in advance for how whack these titles are—I promise they make sense in my head.

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

1. SUNSHINE STATE REWRITE CHAP 1

2. second spring

3. Crawl Home to Her

4. untitled one

5. dea

4. batman crack fic (this hasn’t been touched since 2022)

5. what the hell, steve harrington?

I have virtually no mutuals here, so I’m keeping this open!! (also if anyone wants to be mutuals, pls lmk 💗)

[pinchofhoney]

the last goodbye

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

part one | part two »

pedro pascal x fem!reader

world count: 4.5k

warning: angst, age gap (the reader is in her mid 20s), heartbreak, betrayal

summary: Can love really be turned off just like that?

a/n: this one wasn't planned at all, but i'm not in a good mental state right now so why not add a little more misery to the mix, am i right? might as well go for the full package deal of emotional turmoil and heartache!!<33 (i’m so sorry, pedro)

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @alexxavicry @babypeapodd @domaniquessidehoe @one-sweet-gubler @danelhi

With a grin on your face, you sat at the candlelit table and took in the ambiance of the restaurant. You couldn't contain your excitement for the evening ahead. After all, tonight was your anniversary with Pedro, and you felt incredibly lucky to have him as your boyfriend. You had been anticipating this dinner for weeks, imagining the look on his face when you surprised him with a thoughtful gift.

As you waited, you thought back to how you first met. It was a chance encounter at a coffee shop, and you couldn't believe how warm and kind he was from the very beginning. Now, a year later, you were still head over heels in love with him.

You had made a small, handmade gift for him – a mug with a cute card attached. It wasn't anything extravagant, but you knew Pedro always appreciated the things that came from your hands. Plus, his favorite mug had recently shattered, making it the perfect opportunity to create something unique and special for him.

The anticipation built with every passing moment, and you couldn't wait to see his beautiful brown eyes light up with joy when you gave him the gift. It was just one small way to show him how much he meant to you.

Pedro was your first love, and oh how lucky you were to have found him. You grew up in a home where love was scarce, and expectations were high. Your parents demanded nothing but perfection from you, and any mistake was met with sharp words and disappointment. You've been told on multiple occasions that you're a disappointment to everyone or that you bring disgrace upon your family. You longed for warmth and understanding, but it seemed like there was never any room for that in your family. All your actions were just for appearances, as it was only through photographs that your family seemed pleasant. You felt alone and unsupported, and you couldn't rely on anyone.

As you grew older, you built a shell around yourself, not letting anyone in. You were afraid of opening up to others and getting hurt. You didn't even know what love was, and you didn't trust anyone enough to find out. Why bother trying when those who should have been closest to your heart only brought you feeling of not being worthy of love.

But then Pedro came along.

At first, you were hesitant to let him in, afraid that he would disappoint you like everyone else had. That you would be the one to let him down. But he was different. He was patient and kind, and he listened to you without judgment. He showed you what it meant to love and be loved unconditionally, and slowly, you started to let your guard down.

With Pedro by your side, you felt safe and secure. You began to heal from the wounds of your past and learned to trust again. He supported you in pursuing your passions and believed in you even when you didn't believe in yourself.

You found yourself sharing your deepest fears and insecurities with him, something you never thought possible. And he never once made you feel weak or ashamed. Instead, he held you close and promised to always be there for you.

In Pedro, you found the love and acceptance that you had been searching for all your life. He was the missing piece that completed you, and you knew that you would never let him go. With him, you were finally able to break free from the pain of your past and embrace a future full of love and happiness.

But as the minutes ticked by, your anxiety grew. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had promised to be on time, but now it was already thirty minutes past your scheduled reservation. Pedro wasn't the type to stand you up without at least calling or texting to let you know what was going on. You tried to push aside your growing worry, reminding yourself that Pedro was always a bit scatterbrained and had a tendency to lose track of time.

You reached for your glass of water, trying to quell the dryness in your throat, but your hand trembled and you ended up spilling some on your dress. The one Pedro liked so much. You cursed silently, grabbing a napkin to wipe it away, looking around at the same time. The couples around you were oblivious to your growing unease, laughing, holding hands, and stealing kisses.

The anticipation of waiting for someone in a public place always made you feel self-conscious. You couldn't shake the feeling that every eye was on you, even though you knew it wasn't true. The longer you waited, the more you felt like a spectacle, as if the other diners were silently judging you for being stood up or forgotten.

You couldn't help but think back to the countless times Pedro had been there for you. He was always there to cheer you up when you were feeling down, to hold you close when you were afraid, and to make you feel loved when you felt alone. You had never met anyone like him before, and you knew that you didn't want to spend your life without him.

You retrieved your phone from your purse, and your fingers were shaking slightly as you unlocked the screen and opened the chat with Pedro. Your eyes scanned the messages you had sent, each one unanswered and filled with growing concern. You could feel your anxiety mounting as you realized how long you had been waiting and how little communication you had received.

Hey, I'm waiting inside 😊 – Unread, sent at 8:04pm.

Are you reaching anytime soon? – Unread, sent at 8:15pm.

You okay? You’re not picking up my calls, I’m getting worried – Unread, sent at 8:22pm.

Pedro?? – Unread, sent at 8:33pm.

With a heavy sigh, you set your phone down on the table in front of you and locked the screen. The dark, lifeless display stared back at you, a stark reminder of your growing unease. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts, but it felt like your heart was beating a mile a minute.

You glanced around the crowded restaurant once again, searching for any sign of Pedro. Every time the door opened, your head snapped towards it, hoping to see his familiar face, but with each passing minute, your hope dwindled, and your worry only intensified.

It was getting harder to breathe, and your chest felt tight. You tried to calm yourself down, but it was difficult when your mind was racing with worst-case scenarios. What could have happened to Pedro? Was he hurt? Lost? Or was he just standing you up?

You jumped as the waiter, who had already visited your table twice, appeared once again, his professional demeanor belying his growing impatience. He stood tall and poised, his attire and grooming impeccable. He cleared his throat politely, drawing your attention.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said with a proper smile. “Could I take your order already?”

“Um,” you stammered, glancing around the room. “Can I have a few more minutes, please?” you bit your lower lip gently, your gaze resting on the empty chair across from you. The waiter's expression softened slightly, his experience giving him a keen sense of what was happening.

“I'm sorry, ma'am,” he said, his tone polite but firm. “If you do not order something now, I will be forced to ask you out. Other guests are waiting,” the words hung in the air, a stark reminder that you were taking up space in a busy restaurant, and that others were waiting for a chance to dine.

You felt a lump rise in your throat as you realized that Pedro might not show up at all. The waiter's words seemed to echo in your mind, adding to the growing sense of unease that you felt. You looked up at him, feeling embarrassed that you had wasted his time. “I'm sorry,” you said softly, reaching for your purse. “I think I'll just go. Thank you for your patience.”

The waiter nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic. “Of course, ma'am. I hope everything is all right.”

You forced a smile, though you knew it looked strained. “Yes, thank you. I'm sure it will be.”

As you stood up, your heart felt like it was being crushed under the weight of disappointment and hurt. You tried to keep the tears at bay, but they threatened to spill over at any moment. You couldn't believe that he had left you alone on the day of your anniversary.

Slowly, you gathered your things and made your way towards the exit. The restaurant seemed to be closing in on you, suffocating you with its festive atmosphere and happy couples. The world felt like a cruel and unfair place as you stepped outside, the cool evening air shocking your senses. You wrapped your coat around yourself, seeking some sort of comfort from the fabric.

Desperately, you scanned the empty street, hoping to see Pedro's familiar form walking towards you. You wished that he would come up with a reasonable excuse for his absence, something that would ease the pain in your heart. But there was nothing. The street was deserted, and the only sounds were the distant echoes of laughter and music from the restaurant behind you.

The realization hit you hard, like a blow to the stomach: he wasn't coming. The person you thought would be by your side, celebrating your love and commitment, had left you alone on the most important day of the year.

It was like you were back to the early days of your relationship when doubts and insecurities were a constant companion. A sense of guilt and self-doubt crept up on you. Did you do something wrong? Was that why he didn't show up? The thought of being punished for some perceived mistake made your heart heavy with sadness.

You shook your head, trying to dismiss those irrational thoughts. Pedro was not your parents, who had used punishment as a form of discipline. You trusted him, and you knew he would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. He must have had a valid reason for his absence and would explain everything when he finally contact you. Maybe he got caught up with work, and time had simply slipped away from him.

You hailed a taxi and gave the driver your address. The ride home was a quiet one, with your thoughts and worries for company. The streetlights blurred past as you stared out of the window, lost in your own world.

The taxi finally pulled up outside your apartment building, and you paid the fare before getting out. The night was dark and still, with only the sound of distant traffic to break the silence. You fished out your keys and let yourself in, feeling the weight of lack of understanding still heavy on your shoulders.

As you stepped into the empty apartment, the silence seemed to engulf you, and you once again felt a lump form in your throat. You couldn't stop overthinking about why Pedro didn't show up and what it could mean for your relationship. You glanced at the clock and saw that it was already 9.34pm. He hadn't even bothered to call or text to explain his absence.

You draped yourself across your bed, curling up with a plushie. It was a stuffed dog, one of your favorite gifts from Pedro. You held it tightly, feeling the softness of its fur against your cheek. You closed your eyes, trying to push away the thoughts that were still swirling in your head. You sat there in silence for what felt like hours, but was really only a few minutes. The only sounds were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional car passing by outside. You hugged the plushie even closer to you, taking comfort in its familiar presence.

Suddenly, you heard a faint buzzing sound coming from the purse beside you. You reached over and fumbled for your phone, squinting at the bright screen as your eyes adjusted to the sudden light in the dimly lit room. A message from Pedro appeared on the screen, and your heart sank as you read it.

Hi, sorry, I won't be able to make it today. We need to talk. Let's meet tomorrow. I can stop by your place around 12, okay? – Mi hermoso, sent at 9:41pm.

You scoffed in disbelief, letting go of your phone and allowing it to fall onto the bed as you turned away. You waited for a few minutes, trying to control your emotions, before finally picking up your phone again and composing a reply.

Sure, no problem. See you tomorrow. Happy anniversary, I love you! – Unread, sent at 9:47pm.

You stared at your phone, the blue light from the screen casting an eerie glow across the room. Your heart raced as you waited for a response from Pedro, hoping beyond hope that he would reply with the same words of love and affection, but as the minutes ticked by, your optimism began to fade, replaced by a growing feeling of apprehension.

You tried to distract yourself by scrolling mindlessly through social media, but every time your phone buzzed with a notification, you jumped, thinking it might be Pedro. But it was never him. It was just a friend sharing a funny meme or a work email.

Throughout the long, dark night, you tossed and turned in bed, searching for a comfortable position. The plush dog Pedro had given you felt like a cruel reminder of what you were missing. You hugged it tightly again, wishing it was Pedro's warm embrace instead. Your mind was consumed by thoughts of what could be causing his distance and silence. Was it something you said or did? Was he hurt or angry? The unease you felt earlier had now turned into a suffocating anxiety that seemed to grip your entire body.

You tried to force yourself to sleep, but your thoughts kept racing, playing out different scenarios in your mind. The more you tried to push them away, the stronger they became and you felt helpless, lost in a maze of doubt and confusion. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you closed your eyes and surrendered to exhaustion, but even as you drifted off to sleep, your mind continued to work, conjuring up images of Pedro's face, his voice, and the love you shared. You dreamt of him, holding him close, hearing his laughter and feeling his touch. It was a bittersweet dream, both comforting and painful, a reminder of what you had and what you might lose.

As the sunlight filtered through the curtains, you groggily opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling, the events of the previous night flooding back to you. You felt as if you had barely slept, your body heavy with exhaustion and your mind still racing with thoughts of Pedro. Despite your weariness, you knew that you had to face the day ahead. Today was the day you were supposed to talk to Pedro, and the mere thought of it made your stomach churn with anxiety. It's quite funny how quickly yesterday's excitement of spending the night together has now turned into fear.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on your face in an attempt to shake off the drowsiness. You felt a momentary relief as the icy water hit your skin, but it was fleeting, and the sense of dread returned as you remembered the conversation you had to have.

You decided to take a long shower, hoping that the warmth and comfort of the water would wash away the stress and tension of the previous day. You let the water pour over you, closing your eyes and trying to clear your mind of all thoughts, but it was futile, and your mind kept returning to Pedro, to the scenarios you made inside your head last night.

You stayed in there for what felt like an eternity, lost in thought and unable to shake off the overwhelming feeling of anxiety. Eventually, you turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping yourself in a towel and staring blankly at your reflection in the mirror.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves and calm the rapid beating of your heart. You told yourself that there was no reason for Pedro to bring bad news, that he wasn't the kind of person to do that. You gave yourself a small, encouraging smile in the mirror and nodded, determined to pull yourself together and face whatever the conversation would bring.

After getting dressed, you looked at the clock and realized that Pedro would be arriving soon. You tried to busy yourself by tidying up your apartment, but your mind kept wandering back to the impending conversation. Every time you heard a sound outside, your heart would skip a beat, and you would turn towards the door, thinking it was him. But each time, it turned out to be a false alarm – just a passing car or a neighbor's footsteps.

After what seemed like an endless amount of time, you heard a soft knock on your door, and your heart leapt into your throat. You quickly made your way to the entrance, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. As you opened the door, your eyes met Pedro's, and you couldn't help but smile. His hair was messy, but his eyes, usually kind and warm, looked distant and pained. He was wearing his favorite purple LA Lakers t-shirt, which he usually wore when he wanted to feel comfortable and at ease, but today it didn't seem to be working. Something was wrong.

“Hey, chiquitita," he said softly, and you could sense a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Hi,” you replied, trying to keep your tone calm. “Come on in.”

As Pedro walked into your apartment, you found yourself fidgeting nervously with your fingers. The silence between you both was heavy and suffocating as he scanned the space, avoiding any eye contact with you. Despite your best efforts to stay positive, you couldn't shake off the intense tension in the air. And then, he finally turned to face you, and your heart dropped to your stomach. The anguish etched on his face was too much to bear, and you just knew that something was horribly wrong.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, your voice sweet and caring, as always around him, which only seemed to make things more difficult for him.

He knew how much he meant to you and how important he was in your life. You had shared so much together, confiding in each other, supporting each other through thick and thin. He knew perfectly well that he was the first person you really trusted, and he was grateful for that chance. But lately, it felt like the ground beneath your feet had been shifting.

Pedro took a deep breath, the weight of the world on his shoulders. His voice was measured and deliberate as he finally spoke, “I need to talk to you. It’s about us.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked with a knot in your stomach, maintaining a carefree tone, trying to hide your growing concerns. As you walked towards the living room, you felt like you were walking on thin ice. You didn't know how to act, what to say, what to expect. You were afraid that you had done something wrong, that you had hurt Pedro in some way without even realizing it and again, that you were the reason he skipped last night's dinner.

As Pedro's eyes roamed around the room, they finally landed on the beautifully wrapped gift you had carefully prepared for him the night before. You had spent hours on it, making sure every detail was perfect and imagining the joy on his face as he unwrapped it.

Seeing his gaze fall on the gift, you smiled gently and reached for it. “I wanted to give it to you yesterday, but-”

“We need to break up,” he interrupted, cutting you off mid-sentence. Your hand froze in the air, and your heart sank as you realized that the gift you had worked so hard on would no longer bring the joy you had hoped for.

Shocked, you stared at him, searching his face for some sign that he was joking. But the look on his face told you everything you needed to know. He was serious. You felt a lump form in your throat as you struggled to find words. “What... what do you mean?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I don't feel the same way anymore,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I just can't keep pretending that everything is okay.”

Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of what he was saying. You thought everything was fine, that you were happy together. You couldn't understand how he could just throw it all away. “Is there someone else?” you asked, hoping that maybe there was some other explanation for his sudden decision.

“No, it's not that,” he replied, shaking his head. “It's just... I don't know, something's changed.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt as if the ground beneath you had crumbled away. You had been blindsided by his confession, unable to comprehend how he could just stop loving you. The thought of losing him was unbearable, and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Despite the pain and confusion, you mustered the strength to ask him one more question, “Is it my fault?”

The fear of being abandoned once more was creeping up on you. You couldn't help but wonder if you had done something to push Pedro away or if you weren't good enough for him. The memories of your difficult childhood, where you were left behind and discarded like an old toy, rushed to the forefront of your mind. The thought of experiencing that kind of pain again was almost too much to bear. You fought back tears, trying to keep your voice steady, hoping that Pedro would say something, anything to alleviate your worries.

Pedro's eyes softened and he took a step closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently wipe away a tear that had fallen down your cheek. His touch sent shivers down your spine, but this time they had nothing to do with pleasure, but with pain, and you took a step back.

“It's not your fault,” he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. “You did nothing wrong. It's all me.”

You felt your heart break into a million pieces, the pain seeping into every inch of your being. You struggled to process the news, the reality of the situation sinking in.

“But why?” you asked, your voice breaking. You stared at him, desperate for answers. “I don't understand... how can you just stop loving me?”

Pedro's face was etched with pain, and he shook his head. “I don't know,” he said, his voice barely audible. It was clear that this was not an easy decision for him. “It's like something inside of me changed. I wish I could explain it better, but I just... can't keep pretending.”

The words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, final and heartbreaking.

Pretending. How long he had been pretending?

“Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” you asked with a glimmer of hope.

He hesitated for a moment, and your heart raced with hope, only to sink when he shook his head once more. “I'm sorry, but no,” he said softly. “I hope you get everything you’ve ever wanted, but I need to go.”

“But you’re all I want,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“No,” he said firmly. “You’re better than that. You deserve better than being dependent on me.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no,” you began to repeat, desperation creeping into your voice. “You can’t-you can’t leave me. Please, I need you. I trusted you.”

Pedro let out a tired sigh. “Y/N, you're being selfish now,” he said, his tone drained of any emotion. “I can't be the one to fix all the damage your parents caused,” he added.

You felt a sharp pang in your chest as you heard his words. Although they were true, you never expected Pedro to use your past against you, making you feel broken. You couldn't fathom how the person you loved could speak to you this way. Tears that had been welling up finally spilled down your cheeks as you tried to process what was happening. You wanted to cry out and plead with him to stay, but your words stuck in your throat.

Pedro seemed unaware of your distress as he continued, “You need to learn to love yourself, Y/N. You can't rely on someone else to make you happy. You're a strong, capable person, and you deserve to be with someone who loves you for who you are, not because they feel sorry for you.”

“What are you saying? That you only pitied me, and that's why you were with me?”

Pedro's face showed a mixture of surprise and regret, and he tried to clarify, “No, that's not what I meant. I genuinely cared about you-”

“Stop,” you interjected, shaking your head. “Leave my apartment, please.”

Pedro's face dropped as he realized the extent of the harm he had caused. He attempted to speak, but you couldn't bear to hear any more of his words. Your heart felt like it had been ripped out of your chest, and you just wanted him to leave so you could start to pick up the pieces.

“Y/N, please let me explain.”

You shook your head, still unable to find your voice. You didn't want to hear anything else he had to say. You just wanted him to leave and never come back. Finally, you managed to whisper, “Just go, Pedro. Please.”

After standing still for a moment, Pedro turned around and walked away, leaving you behind with a shattered heart. You realized that he had planned to end things with you right from the moment he had arrived at your door. As you watched him go, tears streamed down your face uncontrollably, and you knew that healing from the pain of losing him would take a long time.

part two »

[cosmic-crybaby]

Hello readers! I have a little poll for you ;)

I'm planning on writing a smutty neighbor x reader story in the future, but I wasn't sure who to use. When I originally had written the notes for this story, my first choice was Chris Evans/ Steve Rodgers, of course. But recently, like many others, I've fallen for the dilf of the century himself Pedro Pascal. Now, I'm not super fond of using real celebrities in my stories, BUT I will leave that up to you.

[mad19girl95]

✨✨✨My daddy ✨✨✨

[k-star-holic]

"Please tell me you want to break up," pleads a man about to die

[tojisloft]

pedro pascal. thays it. thats the post.

im embarresed but i will go on bc yolo

im not even a star wars persoj but ill watxh the mandalorian juts for him ,,, got too

lemme sit on that lap 😭

watxhing narcos rn and hes so HJEJAJAKAJAJAJAJAJJAJSJS

[blackcatgreengrape]

theres a saying in arabic (moroccan dialect) “you’re going to hell with your eyes open” and thats how i feel everytime i check with the pedro pascal fandom (i am in the pedro pascal fandom)

[coolmaycroft]