#pedro pascal photoshoot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelswritingmistress · 4 months

Text

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 6

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Did he just say that? He just said that. Right?

I wondered if I had somehow inserted that last excerpt from Dr. Miller’s mouth into the conversation on my own. Had my mind made it up because I wanted him so badly?

He was smiling now, not at all able to fight it back. I could tell that he was attempting to without avail.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” His voice caused my knees to part under the table. I didn’t know if it was instinctual or if the muscles in my legs had suddenly just turned to Jello but I literally felt myself melt down further into the oversized mahogany chair.

“That, uh..” I toyed with a strand of my hair for a half-a-second in my nervous tic, “That makes me a lot of things.”

“Another round?” The waitress appeared out of thin air and I was about to speak but Dr. Miller responded, with a simple, “We’ll take the check.”

I wanted to stay. When he was so eager to get the check after just one drink I couldn’t fight off the look of discouragement that was written all over my face. I knew what I must have looked like and I couldn’t reel it in. And then I thought about it some more. Maybe he was getting the check because he wanted to go somewhere else.

Like his house. It was wishful thinking.

“Stop looking like someone just shit in your cereal.” His accompanying laughter made me grin. There had to be something up his sleeve. This night couldn’t end with such an obscene, suggestive comment and lead nowhere.

“Didn’t want another drink?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“It’s a school night. We both have to be up early.”

“It’s barely nine o’clock.”

Dr. Miller gave a chuckle again and then looked up as the waitress handed him a black, leather case with the tab for two drinks tucked inside. He held up a finger, slipped a one hundred dollar bill inside and then handed it to her.

“I’ll be back with your change,” replied the woman.

“It’s yours.” He looked me in the eye as he spoke to her again and then began rising to his feet as he reached for his coat.

I followed his lead and allowed him to lead us out of the place.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

Was the night really over? On that note? On that red hot amorous note that had been left with a teetering, ‘dot, dot, dot’ next to it. To be continued? Would it?

Stop freaking out! My brain was screaming, shrieking; throwing a fit like a five year old in Toys ‘R Us that didn’t get the toy she wanted to play with. On the outside I smiled, gripped my keys and tried not to stare for too long as I walked beside Dr. Miller.

“You never gave an elaboration to your response,” he said to me once we stood by the driver’s side door in front of the old church.

I looked down and back up. “Should I elaborate?”

“I’d like to know where we stand.” He looked at me with certainty but, again, there was the slightest hint of uneasiness in his posture. Dr. Miller was tense in his shoulders and it traveled up his neck into his jaw as he waited.

“So would I,” I responded, taking a breath. I couldn’t look away from those brown eyes that were swelled black around the pupil. I knew what that meant - at least I thought I did.

“Well, how about this?” He took a step in my direction so there were only a few inches between us. “If you want to discuss it further, I’m opening up my office hours during our regularly scheduled class time on Thursday. Seven-thirty, I’ll walk you into the building, myself.”

I cleared my throat. Of course I was going to go. “Thursday.” I gave a little nod, wishing I had something to say that would affect him as much as he was currently affecting me.

“Email me if you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” I said right away. My chest heaved beneath my jacket and I opened my mouth to speak. At first nothing came out but then I finally asked the question that had been on my mind for the past seven or eight minutes, “Was that true what you said?”

“Which part?”

“About the elevator.” I swallowed hard now and Dr. Miller laughed again.

“Save all of your questions for Thursday at seven-thirty.” He took a step toward me and then nodded toward my vehicle, “Now get in your car so I know you’re safe.”

I looked at his lips. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to lean in and see if he reciprocated, but from what I could tell of Dr. Miller, he was a forthright individual. If he wanted to kiss me, he would kiss me. He wanted to tell me about his racy musings when we were alone in the elevator. He wanted me to meet him alone at the school on Thursday. If he didn’t lean in for a kiss that means he didn’t want one.

Yet, I told myself.

I hit the button on my key fob and heard the click as my headlights flickered to let everyone in the immediate area know I had just unlocked the car.

“Goodnight (Y/N).” Dr. Miller gave a pained smile that emphasized the crow’s feet on the outskirts of his eyes.

“Goodnight Dr. Miller.” He didn’t correct me this time or ask me to refer to him as Joel. I knew at least a part of him liked having the title roll off my willing lips to acknowledge his authority over me.

Shutting my car door might as well have been shutting the jail cell. I gave a wave and started up the vehicle before reluctantly backing away from where he now stood on the walkway.

Even as I drove down the road, I glanced in my rearview mirror until I could no longer see his figure there and then finally turned the corner to head towards home.

The next day-and-a-half had me worrying about myself. My behavior felt obsessive. I had inspected every social media outlet in search of Joel Miller but there was nothing. He didn't even have a LinkedIn. That one, I had to say, surprised me.

No Snapchat. No Instagram. No Facebook. Nothing.

For my own senseless reasons it frustrated me. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to see a collection of pictures from his life over the course of the past decade. I decided I was spoiled for having access to just about anyone else's life I wanted to dig into.

Maybe I should put my profiles on private. It was Dr. Miller's casual piece of advice. Anyone could dig into my life and I was too concerned about getting “likes” than I was my own privacy.

I'm a walking cliche of today's pre-thirty generation.

Seeing as though my plan to gain access to Dr. Miller's life fell flat on the pavement, I carefully adjusted the private settings on all of my accounts. It had been a suggestion echoed to me by numerous friends and professionals that I hadn't taken seriously; yet here I was after one fleeting proposition from a man I just met making the meager change to my digital identity.

After work on Wednesday I found myself driving past The Library. My eyes scanned for the black Mercedes and I was actually satisfied in knowing that Dr. Miller wasn't out at the bar - at least when I drove by. It allowed my brain to rest rather than toy with the idea of dropping everything to go search inside for him.

Yes, I was officially obsessing. It felt like a violation of not only Dr. Miller's privacy, but also my own sanity.

It didn't stop me from repeating the action on the following afternoon after work. My amateur investigations weren't particularly thorough, though I assumed his car would stand out if he had been around, especially when my eyes were actively seeking out one specific automobile.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel, however. It was Thursday. It was the evening I would be attending Dr. Miller's office hours.

Office hours. I was sure he hadn't actually posted any office hours. I was going to be alone with him.

In all of my years I hadn't had an off-kilter fantasy. My brain had never fancied the idea of taboo love affairs, or men in uniform or any of the typical sexual scenarios that I had heard others speak about.

Now, the idea of letting my handsome, older professor take me on his desk was enough to ignite a fire in every single part of my body - my head, my heart, my soul, my.. everything.

I wouldn't deny him. Correction, I couldn't deny him. I had created the scenario in my mind time after time. It was far too heavy a weight on my shoulders by now to just shy away from. I wanted Dr. Miller in the worst way.

Tori, my roommate, eyed me suspiciously as I exited my bedroom that evening. My clothes were casual, though rather than a sweatshirt and my white Converse sneakers I wore knee-high, brown boots and a tight, gray sweater that revealed just a bit of cleavage.

My ponytail was replaced by perfectly straightened hair and just a tad more than the average amount of makeup I typically sported. Yes, if our roles had been reversed I would have had questions. Unless we were going out somewhere I always slummed it in the most comfortably acceptable clothes I could manage.

“Umm..” My roommate’s eyebrows pressed together, “Do you have a date I don't know about?”

I decided to meet her questions in the middle. “I'm going to a quick study session.” Tori gave me an ‘I don't believe you’ look and so I went on, “And then I'm going out with a guy I met at school.”

My professor, I added in my mind.

Not quite a lie. Not quite the truth. But she seemed to believe it and so I smiled when she offered me good luck.

“I'll fill you in,” I lied, knowing whatever happened that evening I would surely be keeping to myself - at least for the time being. Although I loathed the ‘YOLO’ expression, there was a time for everything and so I reminded myself, you only live once.

The drive to Woodbridge had my stomach in knots. I didn't know what was going to happen. Suddenly I wondered if I would even know what to do. I was twenty-seven. I had had sex before - plenty of it actually. I wasn't a nun.. but I wasn't a freak either. What was Dr. Miller expecting? He had certainly been around the block a time or two.

The faintest hint of sweat coated my hairline, a result of my budding anxiety. I couldn't wait, but then again I was so completely out of my league. I had never met a man so sure of himself. The guys I had dated, we were on an even playing field. I felt like a fan in the stands of a rock concert that was just called on stage to sing with Bon Jovi.

Stop putting him on such a pedestal, I told myself; though I truly couldn't help it. All reason had betrayed me.

The black Mercedes was there when I pulled into the lot and I saw Dr. Miller casually step out of his vehicle the second my blinker winked in favor of the parking lot on the left off the main road that cut through campus.

I parked closer to the building and slowly climbed out of the car as he approached. I knew I was a mess. There was no hiding what I was feeling. I was sure he might even be able to hear the thudding of my heart in my chest.

“I offered to walk you in,” he reminded me, to which I nodded as we walked in silence through the threshold of the academic enclosure.

Dr. Miller walked with a purpose toward the elevator in the main lobby, eagerly pressing the down button that would lead us to the basement where his office and our lecture hall sat vacant.

I thought of his words from Tuesday night at the bar as the doors opened and we entered. There were no other people in the building that I saw. There were no cameras in the elevator. As the doors shut with a resounding thump I side-glanced at my professor.

Out of my peripheral vision I could see how tensely straight he stood. His eyes were straight ahead; focused. He didn't blink or move. It almost looked as if he was holding his breath.

Please. I begged him in my mind, though I have to say when the doors reopened and we emerged to the basement level I was disappointed that he didn't immediately try to jump my bones. The opportunity had presented itself for Dr. Miller to do all the dirty things he claimed to have been craving and he hadn't even flinched on the ride. It was okay, now, wasn't it? Now that he knew I was a willing participant.

You're being ridiculous. I was currently questioning my every thought, my every word, my every move.

The stillness of the typically buzzing building heightened my anxiety. It felt as if butterflies were having a rave inside of my stomach. The only sound that gave a mild echo off the walls of the vacant corridor were the gentle clicks of Dr. Miller's shoes.

My temperature felt like it was rising with each door we passed. I counted them to maintain some level-headedness.

One. Two. Three. Four.

When the fifth door came into clear view, Dr. Miller reached a hand into his khakis and removed a ring of keys.

Next to the oversized, wooden door was a black piece of plastic with Dr. Miller’s name etched into it. Below his name was the door number: 007.

Of course it is, I thought, almost smiling and rolling my eyes. The heat returned to my cheeks, however, when my gaze met his from just a few inches away.

I swallowed hard when the silver key eased into the door handle, glancing down for just a second, before regaining his eyes.

There was a moment of hesitation on Dr. Miller's part before he finally turned the key and let the door swing open from a little push of his forearm.

“After you.” His arm extended outward now and the light automatically went on as I crossed through the threshold. “Can I get you something to drink?”

He waltzed in, loosening his tie a bit as he rounded an oversized, espresso desk.

“Umm.. no.” I shook my head, “No I'm fine.”

The corner of Dr. Miller's mouth tipped up in a little smirk. “Please, have a seat.” He motioned to a chair across from where he made himself comfortable and leaned forward with both hands folded on top of the desk.

I did as I was told. On the surface I thought I appeared like I had my shit together; like I wasn't imagining him pinning me down on the desk and having his way with me; like I wasn't conflicted about whether my feelings on the matter were wrong or right; or if he could lose his job if something did happen between us.

The man had a way of building tension. The brief moment of silence that lingered was deafening. His stare was almost too much for me. I wanted to say something, anything, but I couldn't find the words to kick off a conversation.

“I assume you still have the question in your mind.” Dr. Miller finally spoke. “From the other night.”

My chest heaved up and down once from a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. I opened my mouth to speak but I was interrupted.

“Dr. Miller!” An overzealous young man waved a stack of papers and held an IPad under his arm as he entered through the open door from the hallway.

I held my breath for half-a-second. It was Trevor Nelson. I had had two classes with him and his sheer presence alone was enough to drive me crazy. Right then, he was the bane of my existence. What was he doing here?

His stammering repetition of Dr. Miller’s name almost led me to a physical eye roll.

“Good evening.” Dr. Miller extended his arm out and Trevor eagerly shook it. “Remind me again of your-”

“Trevor,” he more-or-less shouted, glancing at me briefly.

I could see Dr. Miller was taken off-guard, though it was his organically, suave nature that allowed him to get through the unwanted conversation with ease.

“What can I do for you Trevor?”

“I just wanted to discuss a few points from the reading if you had a moment,” Trevor said, “And seeing as though you sent out an email with office hours I suspected you had the time.”

Office hours. He did send out his office hours.

Fuck! Was I all wrong?

“Yes,” Dr. Miller motioned to a second chair beside me. “I wasn't expecting you,” he admitted, “I sent out a sign up sheet-”

“My Wifi kept malfunctioning,” Trevor went on, cutting him off. “I tried. And that's why I printed some things out. I just assumed you would be here anyway and..” He shrugged and then looked at me for the first time, “I'm surprised to see you here.”

Dr. Miller huffed a laugh now. He looked at me with raised eyebrows as if to study what my reaction would be. What would I say to Trevor’s snide remark?

His very tone and uppity attitude was the precise reason why I couldn't stand him.

“I had questions about the reading, as well.” I remained cordial. There was no way I was about to air out a petty reply that would make me seem bitter or immature in my ways.

“Well.. great. We can bounce questions off one another then.” Trevor forced a smile that, while mum, seemed to have the same whiny tone as his nasally voice.

“I blocked off twenty minute time slots,” Dr. Miller reminded him. “I have another appointment at 7:50.”

My stomach dropped and our eyes caught one another’s. He winked as Trevor took a fleeting peek at his watch with as much disappointment as I knew my face had suddenly been white-washed with.

Despite the wink I couldn't tell if he was serious or lying. Was Trevor really fucking up my twenty minutes alone with Dr. Miller? Was there another student coming in at ten of eight?

As my classmate began his vexatious ramblings I felt a burning hostility brewing in my core. At one point Dr. Miller's foot grazed mine beneath the table but he didn't look in my direction as it happened.

I decided I had to harness my disdain, which I knew was heightened to an unwarranted degree for poor Trevor. I actively told myself to stop being a jerk.

The genuine question that I had from the reading the other night popped into my head. Hallelujah, reason prevailed.

“If it's not too morbid, do you think whoever killed the girl on campus might be suffering from Antisocial Personality Disorder?” It was my first genuine attempt to engage in the conversation.

Typically, I truly did enjoy the subject matter. That night, however, my mind was deep in the gutter. That's why I had to run with the lone, pertinent thought that inhabited my brain.

Dr. Miller turned and a small smile formed on his face. The dimples that drove me crazy were out in full force and I could see he was intrigued by my question.

“Interesting.” He leaned back in his seat and folded one leg over the other. “Depending on the motive I could entertain it as a possibility.”

I smiled wide, enjoying his mild praise.

“That is an interesting question,” Trevor added.

My eyes shifted toward Trevor for a second as he eyed the ceiling as he pondered my question. When I looked back, Dr. Miller had tipped his mouth up in a half-smirk again.

When Trevor came back down to earth, our professor motioned to the clock above me on the wall. “I'm sorry to kick you out.” Dr. Miller looked directly at Trevor now, “I think we've ended this session with a valid question that we can open with during Tuesday's class.” He rose to his feet and extended an arm in my classmate’s direction, “Sit on that idea over the weekend. Bring some notes to class.” He glanced at me and added, “I think that was a great topic of conversation Ms. (Y/LN).”

“Thank you.” I gave a little nod and Trevor appeared appeased as the three of us began a natural shift toward the door.

“Thank you for your time Dr. Miller.” The young man smiled and tucked his IPad back under his arm before vacating the room ahead of me. He turned for a second and asked, “Do you think they'll catch whoever killed that girl?”

My gaze switched from Trevor to Dr. Miller and he sucked his teeth while folding his hands together on top of the table. “I'm no investigator,” he said, “But if you want my honest opinion..” a breath exited through his nose and he finished with a simple, “No. No, I don't.”

“Why not?” Trevor leaned an arm on the door and Dr. Miller laughed while motioning to the clock again.

“Save it for another time.”

Like Trevor, I wanted to know his reasoning; though I didn't dig deeper into it right then. As intriguing and scary as it all was, other emotions were tugging at my core.

“I'll see you in class,” Trevor said, though I didn't know if he was speaking to me or our professor.

I wasn't so quick to leave, but I knew it was time. I hadn't expected Dr. Miller to actually post office hours so it was probable that there was another student about to arrive.

Was it a female student? Yep, sparked jealousy inside of me.

When Dr. Miller didn't immediately make a plea for me to stay, I wandered through the open door toward the hallway.

And then I jumped. It was almost inhuman how fast his arm wrapped around my midsection and pulled me back into the room with him with the ferocity of a wolf mauling a lamb.

A gasp escaped my lips when he turned me around to face him as the door closed and my back planted against it. It was all one giant obscure action; a whirlwind of tension released when our bodies were finally pressed up against one another's and I was left panting.

“I thought you had another-”

His finger found my lips to shut me up. A wicked smile advertised his true intentions and his blackened eyes could have set me ablaze right there.

“You are as gullible as your friend Trevor.”

Before I could respond his lips crashed against mine. They literally crashed leaving the back of my head slamming against the thick wood behind me. I barely felt it.

What I did feel was a rush of adrenaline and desire and a thirst for the man that I couldn't suppress - not when his hands were roaming my body and his tongue aggressively penetrated my lips.

I could barely keep up. I had built the moment up so much and now that I was wrapped up in the middle of this avid tornado of passion it had far surpassed my fantasies.

My arms wrapped high around his shoulders, though he quickly pinned them above my head against the door with one hand. His other hand hastily fiddled in his pocket to remove a set of keys, at which time my cheeks blushed a more fiery red when I saw his arousal peaking the front of his khakis.

My eyes were the only part of me capable of moving freely. The rest of me was a willing prisoner to the force of his body against mine. I never wanted to be released.

Dr. Miller's key slipped into the slot in the center of the doorknob and a click secured us behind closed doors.

With an echoing clank the keys hit the floor and my aching, vacant lips were welcomed back with the immediate warmth of his. When his hand released both of mine on the door my arms instinctively wrapped around him again. I was on cloud nine; in a state of mindless bliss. For the first time, possibly ever, I thought of nothing and just acted without reserve.

It was only when I struggled to breathe that I took a parting breath, allowing air back into my aching lungs. Dr. Miller groaned with the brief separation though it gave him the second he needed to wrestle with the button on my jeans.

In that one swift movement of his fingers he had access to everything I had to offer. I bit my lip in anticipation of him touching me for the first time. Just before my eyes were forced shut I saw his hungry eyes drinking in every part of me.

Dr. Miller's over-pronounced sigh accompanied the sensation of his first two fingers as they made home against my most sensitive areas.

I moaned as quietly as possible, though he made the task more difficult when his lips grazed the area just beneath my ear.

I let out a louder moan when his fingers pushed inside of me and his hot breath landed on my neck, the other cupped over my mouth and my eyes suddenly snapped open.

“Shhh..” Dr. Miller gave a hushed reminder that we weren't exactly in our own private love shack while his fingers continued their exploration. “We wouldn't want Trevor to wander back here because he heard a suspicious noise would we?”

Slowly, his hand was removed from across my mouth. I reached a hand down toward his waist but he swatted it away.

“You're not ready for that yet,” he growled, still speaking in a voice just above a whisper.

I was paralyzed. Paralyzed by pleasure. Paralyzed by the thrill. Paralyzed by my raw attraction to Dr. Miller. At that moment I didn't think I could speak if I tried.

A brand new combination of nervousness and arousal made home within me when his free hand now lingered on my throat. The barely-there pressure added something to what I had been feeling all along.

“You like that?” It was closer to a statement than a question but I choked out a whispered, “Yes,” in response.

There was a shake in my legs that I couldn't relieve. Dr. Miller felt it. There was no way he didn't. I was writhing beneath him against the door as the distance between my parted feet on the floor widened with the spread of my legs.

It didn't take long to reach my climax that was induced by his fingers, his hand on my throat, and the dirty nothings he whispered as he encouraged my impending orgasm.

I struggled to maintain my composure. As the first curse word escaped my lips his hand more forcefully clamped over my mouth again, though all the same his lips found my ear again as he encouraged me to, “Let it out,” in a hiss of whisper.

That was the final push. Fireworks might as well have gone off in my lower half as my muffled moans sounded off against the warmth of his palm. My eyes alternated between open and closed in those final seconds and Dr. Miller's provocative growling voice took my right back to the dream I’d had. This was no dream.

The shot of adrenaline had filtered through my body, numbing my limbs like some type of drug had just been injected into my veins.

Fuck! For several seconds I could only focus on the pleasure as I breathed heavily in and out in an attempt to remain quiet.

When I began to come down off the high. All of my senses began to return and I could hear my own breathing as his generous hand warily crept back out from beneath my damp panties.

A smile formed on my face as he stared at him. I was hot and disheveled. My pants were still down off my waist and as I went to tug them back up Dr. Miller stopped me.

“Oh we're not done yet,” he assured me, glancing over his shoulder toward the oversized desk. When he turned back around he reached for my hand and towed me across the room. I felt like I was floating.

When he made himself comfortable in the oversized chair, I just stared at him. With the two fingers that had just been inside of me he waved for me to come to him and pulled me down in for another heated kiss before whispering against my lips. “Now you're going to get down on your knees and return the favor.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @michilandcof @morallyinept @akah565 @cesspitoflove @brittmb115

135 notes · View notes

pascalisfrenchpunk · 1 year

Text

Pedro by Jorge Bispo

In www.jfk.men

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal photoshoot #jorge bispo

646 notes · View notes

soaringcloud · 9 months

Text

his SMILE 🤭

#this is one of my fave pics of him #the little curl of hair ahhhh #pedro pascal #pedro pascal photoshoot #ny times #oberyn martell #game of thrones #javier peña #narcos #frankie morales #triple frontier #joel miller #the last of us

246 notes · View notes

midnightdjarin · 9 months

Text

I’m sorry for not posting for 3 weeks here’s javier in a pink shirt

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal pictures #pedro pascal narcos #narcos #narcos javier #javier peña narcos #javier peña #javier pena #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal photoshoot #narcos netflix

153 notes · View notes

joelmillers-whore · 6 months

Text

I am unwell.

#found this pic scrolling thru pinterest #and i just #i can't stop looking at it #pedro pascal #pedro pascal photoshoot #pedrohub #pedropascal #pedro is daddy

95 notes · View notes

pedros-admirer · 11 months

Text

More Pic’s of Pedro at Lux’s Grad!!! 🪽🤍

#jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal #pedro pascal edit #pedrohub #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal instagram #pedro pascal photoshoot #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal photos #pedro pascal x reader #i love pedro pascal #pedrito #pedro pascal fandom

177 notes · View notes

thewaythisis · 1 year

Text

#pedro pascal #pedropascaledit #ppascaledit #ppedit #pedro pascal photoshoot

2K notes · View notes

guelyury · 5 months

Text

Best quality of one of the outtakes, thanks pascalispurplepunk (ig)

I'm hanging by a thread right now, this man is too much OMG. I love him, yeah.

#pedro pascal #esquire #pedro pascal photoshoot #pedro pascal pictures

357 notes · View notes

morallyinept · 5 months

Text

Shoot: Solar Magazine, November 2017, Issue 3

Photographer: Stefan Ruiz

Interviewer: Igor Ramírez-García Peralta

Grooming: Unconfirmed

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

Jett's Pedro's Shoots Masterlist

• Cover shots and original images used in the magazine, including outtakes

• Close ups

• Full interview

Bad Hombre Pedro Pascal

Pedro Pascal belongs to a refreshing type of Hollywood stars, who is well educated while remains unpretentious and free from any level of insufferable diva attitude. He understands very well going against his nature will drift him away from his goals.

Success came relatively late, at 38, with his breakthrough role by polysexual Oberyn Martell, in the fourth season of 'Game of Thrones.'

Between his overseas filming, photo sessions and visiting his family in Chile, a mutual friend put us in touch. One of the countless voice messages that we exchanged to coordinate the interview, breakfast, photo shoot, dinner and drink contest between Colombia, London and Manhattan he said: “Welcome to … [dramatic pause] Colombia”.

I arrived at the Narcos set in downtown Bogotá on Thanksgiving Day. His two American colleagues (Eric Lange and Brett Cullen) were desperate with the elasticity of the South American minutes in a day that seemed to have no end, while a DEA agent - a real one - was waiting for them at home with a lot of turkey, whiskey, American football - a good portion of testosterone.

Meanwhile, Lucas - Pedro’s younger brother, who will have a small role in the next installment of the series - and I amused ourselves by breaking the mythical folding chairs with the protagonists’ name of the series.

Interviewing and photographing Pedro has been a luxury that rarely occurs in journalism. A process of months, but continuous, in different contexts and in stages that has allowed me to know him much more than I can normally know who we put onto our covers. At the whims of fate, in addition to Lucas, I also met his sister, in Miami, and it turns out that Francisco Celhay, the other Chilean actor we include in this issue, is his first cousin.

From what escapes from the talk that we transcribe below, I can add that Pedro does not have any food allergies, but that, since he was 20 years old, he knows that he is allergic to cocaine; that his animal spirit is Tigger, the companion of Winnie the Pooh; that he claims not to be handsome - someone told him that he looked like Orlando Bloom after being slapped in the face - and that, from time to time, he remembers a dog, with a bitten ear, that usually visits the set in Cali, and stands outside his trailer. Pedro: we beg you, adopt it.

Narcos adds salt to wounds that are still very open in Colombia. The history of Escobar and the cartels of Medell��n and Cali is very recent. How do you digest this and what has it meant for your role?Did you imagine that you would stay until season three?

Honestly, no. I knew I was going to participate in two seasons, regardless of the success of the first. They had a script for Escobar that lasted two seasons and my role, Agent Peña, was part of both. After the success of the first, I knew that the series was going to continue. After all, the plot was never intended to focus exclusively on Escobar, but also on the history, politics, and reality of drug trafficking.

But what I didn’t know, and I really didn’t expect, was that I was going to be in the third season. Out of the characters around Escobar, I thought he would be the last person to be invited back.

Netflix has changed the way television series are produced, distributed and consumed. What do you think about it?

It’s amazing, the whole industry changed in five years. Okay, actually in one. They started with the success of House of Cards, which was not even the first series - it was another that nobody knows called Lilyhammer. The year that we started Narcos, they are going to do, I think, twelve original productions. Now I have lost count… And I confess that I am a victim of what they do, because I see everything.

I know it sounds absurd but, compared to what is happening in the politics of the western world right now, where everything is so bleak, disappointing and alarmingly retrograde, television is progressing in terms of themes, culture, representation of diversity and the risks that are assumed with the stories that are narrated.

Do you prefer to work in cinema, television or theater?

For me, the ideal is to work in the three media, as all my colleagues do. I moved to New York when I was 18 to study, and I swear, I almost gave up trying to get roles in off-Broadway productions. My friends were actors who mainly did theater, but also television and cinema, some with more success than others, obviously, but in our community we understood that it was time to do everything. I think television is the most arduous medium because of schedules.

A colleague who worked with Holly Hunter on her first television series, after a very successful career in film and theater, told me that she had said to him, “Television isn’t for pussies”. It is curious that she has affirmed that, after having split her back all her life working as an actress, but it is true. The hours are very intense, the days are endless … In this sense, Narcos is a peculiar challenge, because, in a way, it is invented as we go along. It depends a lot on the locations - and these are unpredictable - but, at the same time, we have a script that must be respected.

To summarize, I would say that I do not prefer a specific medium. Television is the heaviest; Theater is the most familiar experience for me, and cinema supposes, in a certain way, the dismantling of a children’s fantasy, because it is truly the least glamorous experience you can have. At least in what I have had to live. You are in a 150 million dollar production, but sitting in the mud, in an absolute plague and surrounded by flies.

You work a lot in locations: China, Colombia, Croatia … And for very long seasons. What about your private life?

What about my private life? Simple answer: I do not have one. My life is work and tourism. It's strange to have this type of adventure being an adult. As a child I fantasized about working in the cinema and after surviving the inevitable broken heart that comes with maturity, being alive and, above all, wanting to be an actor, it is still ironic and funny to achieve your childhood dream at 40.

You miss your house, your bed, your friends, your comforts and the routine, but it is interesting that all of that is interrupted, and more at this age, because I think I can absorb the experience with much more perspective and maturity.

How was your experience in China filming The Great Wall?

I loved it. I had never set foot in China until I stood there for five months to work with one of my favorite directors [Zhang Yimou], whom I never even imagined crossing paths with. And next to fucking Matt Damon and Willem Dafoe! Matt, frankly, is one of the best people I’ve ever met; not from the best famous people I’ve ever met, but from the best people and that’s it. He was there with his family, with his wife - who is even better than him - and his children. On the other hand, I have seen all the Dafoe films since I was a child, so it was a privilege that they served me him on a silver platter, although, at the same time, very hard work, because it is a complicated film, also shot in multiple locations.

The concept of the previous issue of Solar was “Respect your idols!”, a kind of vote in favor of not losing emotion when meeting them and remembering what they have meant to you; Don’t let the fan die inside of you, regardless of how close your childhood idols can become as you enter the industry. How has this been for you?

It’s funny that you ask, because I’m still a big fan. I think this characterizes me as much as my work. In addition to being an actor, I am a spectator. I associate it with being a Chilean immigrant in the United States, with how young my parents were and how unstable their life was when I was born and how pop-culture, film and cable television socialized us and, in a way, they educated my sister and me. Later it turned out that a fantasy became a hobby that, in turn, became my profession.

Come on, I don't hide being a fan. Kingsman was a particularly interesting experience, because it was a fucking circus with fabulous movie stars: Halle Berry, Jeff Bridges, Julianne Moore, Colin Firth, Channing Tatum and Taron Egerton, who, despite being new to the industry, is a fucking love. It’s all a bit overwhelming and scary, but I think the little fan inside me is so dominant that I managed to overcome the fear of working with them.

I have to say that I managed to contain myself, until we finished filming. As soon as they released Halle Berry, I tearfully told her that I had seen Jungle Fever, that it fascinates me, that her character in Monster’s Ball killed me and that I cried when she won the Oscar. I did the same to Julianne Moore and everyone else, until they got fed up.

I know you are a good boy. I feel it, I see it in you, in your family and in how you relate to the people around you. Have you always been like this?

I can’t even imagine what my parents had to go through when they escaped from Chile and that has left me an inheritance of guilt that, perhaps, has determined the way in which my brothers and I navigated the world. We’ve also had very tragic losses in my family, and that helps you focus on what’s really important and how you should treat people. I don’t know what I believe in. I am completely agnostic and the idea of a god seems silly to me. I do not mean that spirituality is alien to me, but I have not developed any link with that concept either, but I do know that the most valuable thing is to be a good person.

Deep down, I think that’s a lot more important than being famous, powerful or such. I can’t take all that shit to my grave. But I have not always been like this. When I was 12 years old, we were already enjoying a very privileged situation and, compared to others, I was quite a spoiled boy. Then all that was over, and I had to learn the hard way in New York. Maybe if things had continued to be as easy as when I was in high school, I would be a douche now. Maybe the combination of genes, the education my parents gave us, and the fact that I broke my ass for more than fifteen years in New York that shapes you and also teaches you how you should behave.

You spent almost twenty years auditioning. What motivated you to continue, and not to give up?

I didn’t know how to do anything else. There really does come a time, especially when you are a movie and theater nerd, where it becomes part of your identity. In the end, training, practicing and fighting ends up becoming an everyday thing and stop feeling like the big challenge. In fact, changing was what scared me. I think I definitely accepted the possibility of being the typical actor who is always fighting, until the day he could no longer go upstairs to audition, because, as I said, I did not know how to do anything else, and was too lazy to learn. And well, I also had the unfounded hope that I could do it.

And luck, I’m very lucky. As screwed up as the times were, there was always something: a job, a theater play, an experience, a royalty check for an episode of Buffy, vampire slayer - which paid half of the rent - or a play outside of Boston. Every time it seemed like I wasn’t going to make it through the month financially or emotionally, something came up at the last minute that kept me afloat and allowed me to keep going.

Jett's Pedro's Shoots Masterlist

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal magazine #pedro pascal interview #pedro pascal photoshoot #pedro pascal shoots #pedro pascal words

57 notes · View notes

heavenlyfixations · 2 months

Text

PEDRO PASCAL & OSCAR ISAAC — for The Hollywood Reporter (2023) & Fear of God (2024)

133 notes · View notes

joelswritingmistress · 20 days

Text

Camp Crystal Lake: Chapter 2

Requested by @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz

Joel Miller x f!reader (romance/horror)

Setting: Camp Crystal Lake

The reader is taking on the position of a camp counselor at the infamous Camp Crystal Lake. While she begins to enjoy her summer, even crushing on the camp director Joel, a killer lurks in the woods unbeknownst to anyone.

I made my way back around to the front of the cabin to find a young man and woman of about my age on the porch. He was a muscular, shaggy-haired blond guy sporting a hat and she had a head of bouncy curls and wore a big smile as she looked at him. The two of them, arm-in-arm, noticed me right away.

“Hey!” The girl gave a friendly hello.

“Hi.” I smiled and waved back, retrieving my suitcase first before reaching for the gym bag.

“Jeff, go help her!”

“Oh, sure. Yeah.” The blond guy, Jeff, hurried down the set of steps.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I assured him, but he heaved the bag up over his shoulder before I could resist the help. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I’m (Y/N),” I introduced myself, waving at the couple as I walked side-by-side with Jeff up onto the porch.

“Sandra,” the girl held out a hand and I shook it. “This is my boyfriend, Jeff.”

“Hi.” He nodded, still holding my bag. It looked light as a feather on his arm.

“Thanks for carrying that, you don’t have to,” I assured him.

“Come on.” Sandra waved me into the cabin, “There’s a pretty decent room upstairs,” she explained. “I can show you if you’d like.”

I nodded, “Sure. Yeah. That’d be great.”

Sandra patted Jeff on the butt of his jeans, making him turn and smirk at her. “Second floor, tough guy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he responded, rolling his eyes with a lopsided smirk.

I snickered to myself at their interaction but ultimately followed them up the staircase, taking in the collection of faces that lingered in the open living room area.

“This is (Y/N),” Sandra announced as the three of us clunked our way up the wooden stairs, “We’ll be right back.”

The cabin was more spacious than it looked. I passed the loft area at the top of the stairs and took a short, rustic hallway down past a pair of bedrooms. In one of them was a pair of bunkbeds. In another were two twin beds side by side.

“Those two have been claimed,” Sandra informed me.

“That’s fine,” I said, “I’m not super picky.”

She nodded toward a room at the far end of the hall, “That’s Joel’s room, the director.”

Jeff made a face, “Not trying to share a wall with the boss man.”

Sandra laughed, “We took this room.” She used her thumb to motion to a closed door, “But once the kids come we alternate bunking in the main cabins with them every other night.”

“We better get the same nights off,” Jeff remarked, making her smirk at him.

“What rooms are available?” I asked.

“These two,” Sandra said, motioning to the two doors closest to Joel’s, on the left and right. I pushed one door open, seeing another set of bunk beds and a twin on the opposite wall. The other had a set of twins.

“I don’t mind roommates,” I claimed. After spending four years at a university, it didn’t bother me. I enjoyed being around people. “I might take the bottom bunk over here.”

“Not the top?” Sandra asked with a laugh.

“I know, I’m weird.” I laughed with her, “I always preferred the bottom. It always had a little extra room.”

“That’s true.” She motioned, “Jeff, to the right.”

“Yes ma’am.” He slugged my bag into the room I chose and tossed the bag onto the bottom bunk. “There ya go.”

“Thank you,” I said, “For helping me bring my stuff up.”

Jeff flexed, “The beach is that way.” He pointed with his finger, making both Sandra and I laugh.

“He’s a meat-head,” she claimed, rolling her eyes.

“I’m good for something.”

“Thank you,” I repeated, “Really.”

“Want to come meet everyone?” Sandra asked, “I know more are coming but the people we’ve met so far are nice.”

“Yeah.” I nodded eagerly and then couldn’t help but add, “Joel seems.. cool.”

“Hot, right?” Sandra asked.

I glanced up at Jeff, who just laughed. And so I responded, “Sorta, yeah.” The two of us laughed and I could see Jeff was comfortable enough in the relationship to give a nonchalant eye roll.

“He’s like forty, calm down,” he joked.

“Jealous?” Sandra asked.

“Ehh..” Jeff shrugged and then scooped her up off her feet, making her giggle and give him a quick kiss. “Just a little.”

“Aww.” She continued to laugh and they linked hands as they made their way down the staircase a step ahead of me. I’m not going to lie, I liked them already. They didn’t seem like one of those annoying couples that fought all the time or who was too lovey dovey. My first impression of Jeff and Sandra was that we could end up getting along quite well. I already enjoyed their lighthearted goofiness.

I glanced at the front door as it swung open as we neared the bottom of the staircase. It was Joel.

“Hey boss,” Jeff greeted with another lopsided grin. He adjusted his hat and leaned an elbow on the banister.

“Can I propose a first informal meeting?” Joel asked, glancing around the room, finding my gaze last.

I nodded and followed to where people naturally gathered on the couches around an unlit fireplace topped with a television. There was a tall, lanky red-headed guy who was goofing around with a dark-haired guy with wavy hair and blue eyes. I heard one of them address another girl of about my age as Teri. She looked like a model with hair just below her ears and, what I would consider, a perfect physique. She held a little white dog under one arm.and sat beside a short, dark-haired girl on the couch.

“Hi, I’m Mark,” another guy wheeled over in a wheelchair wearing a red football style jersey.

I introduced myself and exchanged a handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Alright guys.” Joel’s voice snapped me back to reality and I found a seat in a chair beside Mark. “I know everyone is getting settled and some of you had long drives, so I’m not going to put you up to too much today. Tomorrow we’ll get a little more serious. There’s a lot of painting to be done, we definitely have to straighten up the dining hall and when Annie arrives she’ll take the lead on what she wants done in the kitchen.”

“Who’s Annie?” Jeff asked.

“She’s going to be our lead cook,” Joel informed us.

“Does she get here tonight or are we ordering pizzas?” The redhead asked, making everyone laugh.

“You guys didn’t pack peanut butter and jelly to make in your rooms?” Joel joked. He smiled wide just after, “For ttonight, since there’s only a handful of us here for a little while, I bought a bunch of hamburgers and hotdogs. I figured we could have a little barbecue, maybe get a fire going-”

“Tell ghost stories?” Mark asked, again making everyone laugh.

“Sure,” Joel said with a shrug.

“The legend of Jason,” Jeff added, “I think everyone knows that one.”

“Did you get stuff for s'mores?” Sandra asked Joel.

He raised his eyebrows, “Actually.. I did.”

The small crowd cheered and Joel laughed.

“Okay, okay,” he waved his hands to settle everyone down.

“Can, uh.. Since, like, the kids aren’t here yet,” Jeff began but Joel cut him off.

“You want to know if you can drink,” he assumed.

“We’re all over 21.” Jeff looked around, “Right?” Everyone began to nod.

“I’m the old goat at 25,” Mark joked.

“24, I’m right behind you,” the girl sitting next to Teri told him with a wink.

“When the campers arrive, there is a zero tolerance policy on alcohol,” Joel explained, “But..”

“But..” Jeff said with a grin, leaning forward.

“But, in the couple of weeks before they arrive, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your work and the progress we need to make, I don’t mind if you have a drink here or there at night.”

More cheers.

Cool, I thought. But I didn’t have any booze on me.

“I’m not gonna lie, we have two thirty packs in our trunk,” Jeff explained, making a face, “You know, just in case.”

“So, just to clarify,” the red head asked, “Is the rest of the day a freebie? Like barbecue, swimming, getting to know each other?”

Joel gave a slow nod. “But I’m going to have jobs posted for you that will start tomorrow at noon. And then every day thereafter starting at eight o'clock in the morning. Fair?”

“Fair,” the group said collectively.

“Alright,” he said, “Well, finish getting yourselves unpacked. And then enjoy yourselves a little tonight. I know you’re giving up your entire summer for this, so work hard for me but enjoy the last few weeks of freedom.”

“What time should we BBQ?” Jeff asked.

Joel shrugged. “What do you think? Five? Six?”

People looked at one another and began to nod, exchanging glances and agreed to meet out back near the lakeside in a few hours.

I wandered back up to Joel and smiled. “Thanks for letting us ease into this.”

“I know you guys probably had a long day,” he said, “And everyone should get to know each other before we really get into it.”

“I think my ride was the shortest,” I told him with a laugh. “I’m a townie.”

“So am I.”

“Really?”

Joel nodded. “I thought the town needed to be revived a little bit. I know this place has a bad reputation, but maybe we can make a difference and rewrite the script a bit.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” I said to him with a nod.

“You majored in child psychology?” he asked.

I smiled wide and nodded, “Yeah.”

“So, you get it then.” He shrugged, “These kids need the outdoors these days more than ever.”

“Definitely.” I nodded. “I think it’s great what you’ve organized here for the kids.”

“I hope we can at least make a little bit of a difference.”

“We will.” I nodded to him. His smile back at me made me blush.

The two girls from the couch came to introduce themselves and Joel gave a little wave as he made his way to Sandra and Jeff.

“I’m Vickie,” said the shorter of the two.

“Teri,” said the other.

“I’m (Y/N/),” I said back, attempting to make small talk with my fellow co-workers.

I then met Ted, the redheaded guy, and Scott the dark-haired guy. It wasn’t long before we were helping Jeff cart the beer down toward the wooded beach area, where we met Joel who supplied most of the food.

“If only Annie were here,” Ted teased, once we were all gathered ready to eat, drink and be merry as the sun began to set.

“We need some firewood,” Mark claimed, staring at the empty pit inside the circle of bricks at the woods’ edge.

“Oh, I got it,” I said at the same time that Joel said he’d take care of it. We looked at one another and shared a little laugh. “We can carry twice as much between the two of us.”

Joel smirked and nodded. “Come on. Safety in numbers, right?”

I joined him on the short walk toward the cabin where he’d been chopping wood earlier.

Jeff shouted to us as we wandered up a short path away from the beach.“Beware of Jason!”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@gissellec1 @cattt777 @mellymbee @armybts20137 @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz

85 notes · View notes