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morallyinept · 6 months

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Shoot: Style Italia Magazine, July/Aug 2018, Issue 7/8

Photographer: Michael Schwartz

Interviewer: Giovanni Grassi

Grooming: Mira Chai Hyde

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

Jett's Pedro Shoot's Masterlist

• Cover shot & main images used in the magazine.

• Outtakes.

• Image from main shoot above zoomed in. 👇🏻

• Promo Video 'Hope' that accompanied the shoot.

• Full interview, originally translated from Italian by myself. Italian version below translated version.

The son of Pinochet's opponents, Pedro Pascal lived as a refugee in Denmark and the United States. Then, his encounters with cinema "to get to know the world" and success in TV series, from Game of Thrones to Narcos have made him a popular talent.

The appointment with Pedro Pascal is in a motel worthy of a horror movie, the actor known to many as Agent Javier Peña from the Narcos series, but who women appreciated first and foremost as Prince Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones. We are not far from Orange County, where this 43-year-old born in Chile and raised as a refugee first in Denmark and then in the USA (his parents, supporters of Salvador Allende, had to leave the country after Augusto Pinochet's coup) spent most of his time his adolescence.

Very busy, between the filming of Wonder Woman 2 and the post-production of If Beale Street Could Talk, the film based on James Baldwin's book If Beale Street Could Talk and directed by Barry Jenkins, the Oscar-winning director of Moonlight, Pascal is really in the highlight of his career because he is among the most requested Latino interpreters in Hollywood. Not only will we see him on August 14 with Denzel Washington in The Equalizer 2 by Antoine Fuqua, but one of his most anticipated films for next year is Triple Frontier by J. C. Chandor from a screenplay by Mark Boal, producer and author of The Hurt Locker.

"Yes, the work is going well and offers me extraordinary experiences, which I would never have imagined when I was a student, even if I dreamed of them by spending the afternoons at the cinema while my sister made me listen to Madonna's Like a virgin until I was exhausted," he says laughing while a turntable continues to repeat Sia's song, Fire meets gasoline, in the video of which Pascal is seen alongside Heidi Klum in what has been defined as "one of the most sensual sequences of video clips". On the other hand, framing him only in his work as an actor is limiting: among other things, he is part of a theater group in New York and is also active as a director.

"I have always had a project: to exist and not just live, looking for a way to express my ideas and pursuing my passions. Individual reality is made up of many stages, crises, dreams, conquests, defeats. And I never forget that, as a Chilean, I have known and studied the tragedies of a country, from Spanish colonization to dictatorship and democracy."

What was, and perhaps is, your primary objective?

"I wanted an interesting and emotional life. I wanted to gain a sense of beauty in everything. I grew up feeling part of a family tree that did not want barriers, borders, discrimination: from Santiago we ended up in Denmark, then in San Antonio in Texas, then in Orange County in California and in New York. I dreamed while reading Flash Gordon comics, I listened to Iggy Pop songs, I was scared watching films like Jaws, I lived adventures with Indiana Jones, I devoured books and I always went to the swimming pool because I wanted to become a professional swimmer: when I became a professional swimmer in Texas at the age of 11 state swimming champion, I felt on top of the world. At the time I didn't yet know that life would take other turns..."

When did you decide to become an actor?

"I liked all the films with Steve McQueen and Paul Newman and the idea that by working in ever-changing countries I would get to know the world stimulated me. For me, travel means breaking things, changing habits and searching for new balances."

Among the many places in the world, where is it which would you choose a favourite?

"Walking on the Great Wall for Zhang Yimou's The Great Wall was like being in another galaxy. In the South of Italy, on the islands of Sicily such as Lipari and Stromboli, I experienced a symbiosis with nature that is necessary for me, even if I consider myself a man who always, or almost always, needs to feel like there is a metropolis around him. New York will always remain my habitat, but another of my favorite cities is Madrid."

And what do you like to do in your free moments?

"When I have time for myself I often listen to music: we live in a continuous bombardment of images and this is my way of smoothing out any violence. I like many composers and bands, from Erik Satie to Gun N' Roses, and making music together for me is true democracy."

What memories do you have of your professional beginnings?

"Then, and still now, I liked reading, writing, creating stories, traveling with the most varied characters between reality and fantasy. Acting as a way of expressing myself came later and gradually became the center of gravity around which to group all my experiences in the world of entertainment and, first and foremost, in my early days."

You owe a lot to Game of Thrones. Why, in your opinion, has this series had, and continues to have, global success?

"Because it talks about kingdoms, battles, poverty, social classes, mixes fantasy with science fiction and horror, in a mixture of references to the Middle Ages and the eternal realism of politics, relationships and human clashes, between dragons with burning eyes and individuals who have courage, fear, certainty and doubt."

What more do you want from your career?

"Meetings and stimuli from characters who are extremely different from each other. But I also want to dialogue with the public, which for me means sociability, authentic contacts with the most disparate people. I want elegance in my life and to this word that is so abused today, I give the meaning of generosity."

How do you deal with rivalries with your fellow actors?

"By abstracting myself, creating wherever I am a portion of existence where friends, the people you choose and love have a specific place and we don't just talk about ourselves, our problems, but about the world. However, I have always believed that competition, like ambition, is an indispensable driving force in life: rivalry requires us first of all to beat ourselves and, ultimately, this is also why we dream of our goals, we move forward or we go back and we project ourselves towards some mirage.

If today, at the height of success, you were to write your epigraph, what would it be?

"Pick up your banjo and go play because in life it is important to do what you really want and not to become rich and famous."

_______________

In Italian as originally published:

Figlio di oppositori di Pinochet, Pedro Pascal ha vissuto da rifugiato in Danimarca e negli Stati Uniti. Poi l’incontro con il cinema «per conoscere il mondo» e il successo nelle serie tv, da Il Trono di Spade a Narcos.

È in un motel degno di un horror movie l’appuntamento con Pedro Pascal, l’attore conosciuto da tanti come l’ispettore Javier Peña della serie Narcos, ma che le donne hanno apprezzato in primis come il principe Oberyn Martell ne Il Trono di Spade. Non siamo lontani da Orange County, dove questo 43enne nato in Cile e cresciuto da rifugiato prima in Danimarca e poi negli Usa (i suoi genitori, sostenitori di Salvador Allende, dovettero lasciare il Paese dopo il golpe di Augusto Pinochet) ha trascorso gran parte della sua adolescenza.

Impegnatissimo, tra le riprese di Wonder Woman 2 e la post produzione di If Beale Street Could Talk, il film tratto dal libro di James Baldwin Se la strada potesse parlare e diretto da Barry Jenkins, il regista premio Oscar di Moonlight, Pascal è davvero nel momento clou della carriera perché è tra gli interpreti «latinos» più richiesti a Hollywood. Non solo lo vedremo il 14 agosto con Denzel Washington in The Equalizer 2 di Antoine Fuqua, ma uno dei suoi film più attesi per il prossimo anno è Triple Frontier di J. C. Chandor da una sceneggiatura di Mark Boal, produttore e autore di The Hurt Locker.

«Sì, il lavoro va bene e mi offre esperienze straordinarie, che quando ero studente mai avrei immaginato, anche se le sognavo passando i pomeriggi al cinema mentre mia sorella mi faceva ascoltare sino all’esaurimento Like a virgin di Madonna» dice ridendo mentre un giradischi continua a ripetere la canzone di Sia, Fire meet gasoline, nel cui video si vede Pascal al fianco di Heidi Klum in quella che è stata definita «una delle più sensuali sequenze dei videoclip». D’altronde inquadrarlo solo nel suo lavoro d’attore è limitativo: tra le altre cose, fa parte a New York di un gruppo teatrale ed è attivo anche come regista.

«Ho sempre avuto un progetto: esistere e non solo vivere, cercando un modo di esprimere le mie idee e inseguendo le mie passioni. La realtà individuale è fatta di tante tappe, crisi, sogni, conquiste, disfatte. E non dimentico mai che, come cileno, ho conosciuto e studiato le tragedie di un Paese, dalla colonizzazione spagnola alla dittatura e alla democrazia».

Quale era, e forse è, il suo primario obiettivo?Volevo una vita interessante ed emotiva. Desideravo conquistare il senso della bellezza in ogni cosa. Sono cresciuto sentendomi parte di un albero genealogico che non voleva barriere, confini, discriminazioni: da Santiago siamo finiti in Danimarca, poi a San Antonio in Texas, quindi a Orange County in California e a New York. Sognavo leggendo i fumetti di Flash Gordon, ascoltavo le canzoni di Iggy Pop, avevo paura guardando film come Lo squalo, vivevo avventure con Indiana Jones, divoravo libri e andavo sempre in piscina perché desideravo diventare un nuotatore professionista: quando a 11 anni divenni in Texas campione statale di nuoto, mi sentii al top del mondo. Allora non sapevo ancora che la vita avrebbe preso altre svolte…

Quando decise di diventare un attore?Mi piacevano tutti i film con Steve McQueen e Paul Newman e l’idea che lavorando in Paesi sempre diversi avrei conosciuto il mondo mi stimolava. Per me i viaggi significano rottura, cambiamento d’abitudini e ricerca di nuovi equilibri.

Tra i tanti luoghi in. cui è stato quali sceglierebbe?Camminare sulla Grande Muraglia per The great wall di Zhang Yimou è stato come trovarmi su un’altra galassia. Nel Sud dell’Italia, nelle isole della Sicilia come Lipari e Stromboli ho provato una simbiosi con la natura che mi è necessaria, anche se mi considero un uomo che ha sempre, o quasi, bisogno di sentirsi una metropoli intorno. New York resterà per sempre il mio habitat, ma un’altra delle città che prediligo è Madrid.

E cosa le piace fare nei momenti liberi?Quando ho tempo per me stesso ascolto spesso musica: viviamo in un continuo bombardamento di immagini e questo è il mio modo di smussare ogni violenza. Mi piacciono tanti compositori e band, da Erik Satie ai Gun N’ Roses, e il fare musica insieme per me è la vera democrazia.

Quale ricordo ha dei suoi inizi professionali?Allora, e ancora adesso, mi piaceva leggere, scrivere, creare storie, viaggiare con i personaggi più svariati tra realtà e fantasia. La recitazione come maniera di esprimermi è venuta dopo e via via è diventata il baricentro intorno al quale raggrumare tutte le esperienze nel mondo dello spettacolo e, in primis, delle mie giornate.

Deve molto a Il Trono di Spade. Perché, a suo parere, questa serie ha avuto e continua ad avere un successo globale?Perché parla di regni, battaglie, povertà, classi sociali, mescola il fantasy alla fantascienza e all’horror, in un misto di riferimenti al Medioevo e all’eterno realismo della politica, dei rapporti e degli scontri umani, tra draghi con gli occhi accesi e individui che hanno coraggio, paura, certezze e dubbi.

Che cosa vuole ancora dalla sua carriera?Incontri e stimoli da parte di personaggi quanto mai diversi tra loro. Ma desidero anche dialogare con il pubblico, che per me significa socialità, contatti autentici con le persone più disparate. Voglio eleganza nella mia vita e a questa parola oggi così abusata, io do il significato di generosità.

Come vive le rivalità con i suoi colleghi attori?Astraendomi, creando ovunque io sia una porzione di esistenza dove gli amici, le personeche scegli e che ami hanno un posto preciso e non si parla solo di noi stessi, dei nostri problemi, ma del mondo. Tuttavia da sempre ritengo che la competizione, così come l’ambizione, sia una molla indispensabile nella vita: la rivalità ci impone anzitutto di battere noi stessi e, in fondo, è anche per questo che sogniamo le nostre mete, andiamo avanti o torniamo indietro e ci proiettiamo verso qualche miraggio. Se oggi che è all’apice del successo dovesse scrivere la sua epigrafe quale sarebbe? «Prendi in mano il tuo banjo e vai a suonare» perchè nella vita è importante fare quello che davvero vuoi e non diventare ricco e famoso.

Jett's Pedro's Shoots Masterlist

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal interview #pedro pascal photo shoot #pedro pascal magazine #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal images #pedro pascal words #pedro pascal talks #pedro pascal magazine shoot #pedro pascal photos

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nicolethered · 3 months

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#pedro pascal #joel miller #I should make yall guess who op was talking about

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perotovar · 2 months

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#he had 2 min of screen time and every second was gold

PEDRO PASCAL as SANTOS Drive Away Dolls (2024) dir. Ethan Coen

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softiedingo · 5 months

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*look* dear god *sighs intensely*

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pedgito · 5 months

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PEDRO PASCAL as SHANE 'DIO' MORRISSEY NYPD BLUE (1993—2005): Season Eight, Episode Nine 'Oh Golly Goth'

#pedro pascal #pedrohub #ppascaledit #tvedit #nypd blue #dio morrissey #useroaks #userfanni #tusercora #xuserannie #*#everytime pedro talks about dio i just giggle a little bit #he BODIED that role lmao

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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pedro pascal has/has had an incredibly fascinating career and I’d love to hear him talk more about what draws him to certain roles or what his process looks like but all interviewers seem to be able to do is to beg him to call himself daddy and ask him if he watches edits of himself

#like there’s nothing wrong with thinking he’s hot or making edits but good fucking god let this man talk about SOMETHING ELSE #I KNOW he has more interesting shit to say #like if he’s already answered the question 1000 times why do you need to ask it again it’s just lazy fucking journalism #if you can even consider it that!!!#the mandalorian #the last of us #Pedro pascal

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thefrogdalorian · 2 months

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Din Djarin + Chapter 11: The Heiress

#din djarin #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #star wars #swedit #frog lady #MY BELOVED #okay but lets talk about the SHOULDR TO WAIST RATIO #I MIGHT BE BARKING AND GROLWING ON MY KNESS FORTHING AT THE MOURHTH RN #PLEASE GIVE ME A CRUMB OF ATTENTION DIN DJARIN JSUT ONE SECOND #anyway feeling calm ffeeling good feeling normal about him #i nee D HIM #my gifs #my edits #din edits

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toxicanonymity · 3 months

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beach walks

7k, Joel x f!reader; surf instructor Billy x f!reader (Billy gifs)

night walks au A/N: Picks up right after beach walks prequel.

SUMMARY: Paths cross, and Joel can't let you go. WARNINGS: I8+ angst, infidelity adjacent if you squint, drugs, dubcon (drugs/location) p in v, somewhat possessive!joel, exhibitionism, homoerotic tension if you squint. cuck!billy but you also sit on his face.

Joel can't sleep. He stares at the ceiling and keeps drifting back to what he shouldn't have seen - you in the pool with Billy. Plus, he evisions you fucking on the beach, in the hotel, in that stupid shack. He's not happy about it, but you’re so damn hot. He can't help the way his body reacts. He keeps hearing that moan, fuck.

He figures out what helps him get back to sleep, and by the end of the night, he's used all the lotion in that little bottle.

He wakes up for the last time around five. He showers and packs his bag. It's still dark when he goes for a walk on the beach. As the sky hints at sunrise, he stands with his fingers interlaced on the crown of his head and listens to the birds. He’s been doing his best, and it turns out his best sucks. On a sandbar, he finds a live starfish missing an arm and gently tosses it like a Frisbee back into the ocean.

What is he doing? He could've left it all alone.

He walks back to the hotel and gets a cup of coffee and a newspaper. He goes out on the cafe porch to read. There's a yoga class in view on the beach, and he looks to see if you're in it. Yeah, there you are. His stomach drops and his nostrils flare with a deep breath. You look great, but he can't see your ass. Right behind you, there's Billy.

Why Billy? He's impossible to hate. At least he's also impossible to tame. No way it goes beyond this vacation. But if anyone can make him wanna change, it might be you. Joel used to think Billy had it made, but he's a lonely guy underneath it all.

—---you------

Four of you are eating breakfast at a table for six in the dining hall. You're sitting across from Billy.

“Can’t miss with Billy’s Bistro. Never burn the toast, never give ya salmonella . . .”

“Salmonella?” Your friend Kari asks. “Was there an outbreak here?”

Billy has a spoon in his mouth, but his eyes widen. He looks back and forth between all three of you as he slowly swallows his chia pudding, then says, “Explains the Groupon, doesn't it?”

“Gross,” Kari pushes her plate away.

Billy shrugs, then looks at you. “Billy’s bistro,” he mouths with a subtle sparkle in his eyes. His face softens, then comes to life when he looks behind you.

“There he is,” Billy announces.

You look back and do a double take. Your heart skips a beat, and your eyes widen. Joel gives you a nod of acknowledgement.

He’s wearing swim trunks, and his thighs look massive. All of him does. Did the memories fade, or did he manage to put on 10 lbs of muscle in what, two months? His hair is longer – only an inch or so, but enough to curl. You can’t stop staring. Your face is cold and tingly.

“Have a seat, mate.” Billy uses his foot to push out the chair to his right, at the head of the table. He puts his hand on Joel's hulking trapezius as he sits down.

“Joel Miller. This man is a legend,” Billy tells you.

You glance at your friends, and they're as shocked as you. They met Joel once, at the restaurant.

“Taught me how to roll my first joint,” Billy says. “Now I can't even get’m to take a bong rip.” He turns to Joel. “That was some good shit ya brought, mate.”

“Yeah,” Joel says barely above a whisper, glancing at you.

“Hey Joel,” your friend Nahlah says.

“Hey, Nahlah.”

You had barely let him sit down to say hello at that restaurant.

“So you know each other,” Billy concludes. “Brilliant! What a world.”

“Yeah, we know each other,” Joel subtly nods, looking at you. He looks tired.

“Do they know the new you?” Billy asks.

“The new you?” you ask Joel.

“Health nut.” Billy grabs Joel's arm, beaming. “Look at’m.” He turns his attention to Joel. “On the straight and narrow. Can't believe it.”

“Really?” you ask Joel.

Joel sighs and side-eyes Billy. “No. Just had to, kinda. . . get my life together for a minute.”

It’s a punch to the gut. Getting his life together meant dropping you? That’s where he went? Your face burns, and your nostrils flare.

“Excuse me,” you tell the rest of them, and stand up with heat in your chest, determined not to make a scene.

“Catch up later,” Billy says and reaches for you as you come around Joel’s chair. You lean in and he gives you a kiss on the cheek. You don't look back on your way out the door.

—

You get down to the beach, take off your sandals, and walk, heading nowhere in particular.

Soon enough, Joel is calling your name, jogging. You keep walking, but he catches up. He walks beside you in silence, between you and the ocean. You try to ignore the stride of his hulking form in your periphery.

“Guess I don’t fit in your new life,” you mutter, then swallow the knot in your throat and put your shades on, even though it’s not sunny. You keep walking.

“Yeah ya do, baby,” he reaches for your hand. The tenderness almost gets to you, but it’s out of nowhere. You just can’t. You cross your arms and slow your pace.

“Guess I never did,” you mumble.

“I’m sorry.” Joel looks at you. You keep looking down, taking slow, careful steps.

“For what?” you ask, looking at the sand for an answer.

“Bein’ a fuckin’ idiot. Wrapped up in my own shit.”

“What shit?” you ask.

“I’ll tell ya everything, but–”

“--But what?”

“We’re supposed to head out in like (he looks at his watch) fuck. Like ten minutes.”

You scoff. “Did something happen?”

“No—well, yeah.” He looks around then asks, “You okay?”

You don’t answer.

“You looked happy,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder toward the dining hall. It sounds more like a question than an observation. Yeah, you were finally having a good time without him until he showed up. Now you’re confused, and mad at him for confusing you.

You stop in your tracks and turn to face him and the water. “What happened? You couldn’t even text me?”

The sky gets darker as thicker cloud cover creeps over the sun. “I should’ve,” Joel nods.

You barely have the energy to walk. You sit down on the sand. He better tell you, right now, if there's any hope.

He swallows and looks down and away, then takes off his sunglasses and joins you on the sand. “Got in my head,” he mumbles. “So many times, I was gonna. . .even walked to your door one night.”

“.. .okay?” You wait for him to continue.

“Thought ya might think I was lame, cause I wasn’t the same, I was. . .”

“You were trying to get your life together,” you recite, genuinely trying to digest it for the first time. A tear falls out of your eye and you angrily wipe it away.

He shakes his head. “Never shoulda said it that way. I had somethin’ to take care of. Tell ya ‘bout it when we've got time”

The lump is back in your throat, full force. He’s really gonna swoop in just long enough to make you sad, then leave you as confused as ever.

He looks dejected. “I know, I’m an idiot.”

“So what do you want?” you ask.

He looks at the sea for a moment. “To start over.”

“Why?” you ask and wipe away more tears. Your voice becomes strained. “What do you regret?”

“Nothin’, pumpkin. . . shit, I’m so bad at this.” He groans in frustration at himself. “And I know it, that’s why I. . .” he trails off and shakes his head.

You glance at his eyes and curse yourself for a twinge of empathy.

He claws a handful of the dry sand between you into a little pile and mumbles, “You deserve better, always did.” He smoothes out the pile, then pivots to face more in your direction. “Look at me, pumpkin’. Please.” He reaches for your sunglasses. You pull back your head away and take them off yourself. You turn and face him. He wipes his hand off on his shirt before brushing tears off your cheek with his thumb. “Only thing I regret is bein’ such a dick.”

You begin to stand up, not wanting to feel him suddenly leave you again. Once you’re standing, you cross your arms again. You dig the toes of one foot into the sand. Joel’s hands gently engulf each of your elbows, and he gets as close as he can. You don’t pull away, but you don’t open up either. He hugs you anyway.

God, his arms are huge. He holds you tight and breathes into your hair. He mutters, “Think about you all the time.” You let out a held breath, then his scent fills your lungs. A wave of affection threatens to break down your walls.

Your arms uncross on their own, and he hugs you with his body fully against yours. It feels like a warm mistake. It’s too late now.

“Ya know, I would’ve done it with you,” you sniffle. “Whatever this lifestyle thing. . .”

He whispers your name and hugs you tighter. He holds you for a minute, and you dab your eyes on his hulking shoulder. The weight of his arms is as soothing as his scent. This isn’t fixed, you tell yourself. You’re not going to pick up where you left off. If he invited you back to his room right now, you wouldn’t go. But somehow, you feel for him. You’ve never seen him anxious or vulnerable. He’s always been so sure of himself. So full of himself, but in a charming way.

You begin to pull away, still determined not to be the one who gets left. “Guess you’ve gotta go,” you mutter.

He looks sad as he slowly drops his arms, running his hands down your back. “Talk when you’re home?”

You sigh and look at your feet. Your self-preservation instincts tell you to cut him off. Quit him while you can. While you have the upper hand. While he can’t hurt you worse than he has. “What can’t you say right now?”

“A lot,” he answers without missing a beat. He seems to glance at your neck, but you can’t be sure.

You shake your head no.

“Please. Then I’ll leave ya ‘lone if ya want.” His eyes shift away. Does he mean that? Your eyes cloud up again, and you put your glasses back on.

“I dunno.” You walk back to the main building in silence and slip on your sandals on the way in. Joel hugs you goodbye. It feels like he doesn’t want to let go, and you don’t want him to either. Your arms faintly itch as he walks away, and you brush off the sand.

—

After Joel leaves, your friends finish eating and emerge from the dining hall.

“Where’s Billy?” you ask.

“He has a lesson,” Nahlah says.

You go back to your room and take a shower, trying to wash it all away, but Joel’s presence lingers, even as you turn off the water. You lie on your bed looking at the ceiling. Nahlah and Kari are on the other bed, watching ghost hunters on the free cable.

“How was last night?” Kari asks.

You sigh and mutter, “I need a nap.”

“I bet you do,” Nahlah teases.

You drift off, hoping everything will sort itself out while you dream.

–

You sleep for hours and wake up alone, without the clarity you’d hoped for, except that you resent what Joel’s doing. You’re already falling under his spell again, and you don’t like it. It would be too easy for him to break your heart again. You know what could take your mind off it.

You walk down to the shore, and Billy is finishing up a lesson. He sees you and nods toward the shack. You let yourself in and wait on the sofa, emo and increasingly horny.

He comes through the door and takes off his long sleeves. He tousles his hair and stretches his neck with his hand on the tattoo. He takes a sip from a squeeze bottle, then asks, “You alright? What happened earlier?”

“Nothing,” you rest your head in your left hand, with your elbow on the arm of the loveseat.

“He’s a good guy,” Billy says, then looks at his watch and shifts gears. “Got fifteen minutes.”

He joins you on the loveseat, then leans over you, pressing a kiss into your lips and pulling you closer. The kiss is loaded. You welcome his tongue, soothed by his touch, but your energy is gone. You’re practically catatonic compared to before. He kisses you for a few more seconds, then breaks away and asks, “You alright?”

You nod and kiss him back, then reach for his shorts, cupping his semi-hard package.

He breaks away and reads your eyes. “‘S’alright, love.”

He pulls away entirely and slumps into the loveseat, using the opposite arm as a pillow. “C’mere,” he mumbles, and opens his arms. You lay face down on his warm, bare chest, beads of sea water transferring to your beach dress—through one of its crochet holes, a pierced nipple teases your skin.

Billy holds you. You lie there, relaxed, one leg over his. A tear rolls out of your eye and onto his hot skin. “Shh,” He rubs your back for a few minutes, his chest rising and falling under you. His cock twitches against your thigh between his legs, and a shock of desire zaps through you. His hips lift slightly, just once, and your eyes flutter open. He sucks back his chin to look down at you, then his fingers lift your chin to look at him. You’re no longer crying at all.

“There she is,” he murmurs, with his pupils widening before your eyes. He reads your eyes and glances at your lips. “Fucking gorgeous.” His face drifts toward yours, your neck extends, and his lips nudge your upper lip before your mouths come together. You prop yourself up with your forearm so neither of you has to strain your neck. The kiss starts languidly, then heats up and his hands come to your hips. As you kiss, his hips lift into you, and his cock hardens against your quad. As he licks into your mouth, you slowly grind on his thigh. He breaks away, searches your eyes, and whispers, “attagirl,” before claiming your lips again. With your limbs slotted together, you make out, grind, and quietly grunt.

For a while, your thoughts are gone, then Joel walks back into your head. You wonder how good he’d fuck you now, if he thinks it’s his last chance. Still moving on Billy’s thigh with your mouth half-connected with his, your breaths get heavy with desire. Would Joel be rough? Would he be tender? Would he be how he is so often–ravenous, but deliberate and appreciative of every inch of your body? You imagine his cock shoving into you and the way he’d sigh, yeah.

Now you’re gushing wet, already about to cum. You break the kiss to moan, and Billy breathes, “Yeah, good girl.” He grinds against you and his hands move you on his bare thigh, now coated with your slick. “Fuck, that wet for me.” Not just for him, but, yeah, that wet. His cock has hardened against your hip. “Mmm,” he moans into your mouth as his lips take yours again. Joel’s a good kisser too. A little more forceful, but still smooth. You’re thinking about Joel being under you. Imagining the first time you were in Joel’s basement, when he pulled you into his lap so decisively. You’re on the edge of bliss, sliding on Billy’s thigh. You bite your lip, then moan. “Yeah,” Billy encourages you.

When it’s clear you’re not quite there, Billy breathes, “Sit on me. C’mere.”

His mouth hangs slightly open, and his eyes are black with lust. You carefully lift your knee off the cushion between his legs, and the light touch of his hand helps you on top of him as he watches, spellbound. You lower yourself at just the right angle and moan at the first direct contact with the stiff shape in his shorts. Your eyelids are heavy.

He lifts up the hem of your beach dress, and you take it off. He moans at the sight of your body.

His lips remain slightly parted as his hips lift, grinding against you. He palms a breast, and you massage your other one. He begins to reach between you, fingertips sliding into his waistband, then looks behind you at the clock. “Sit on my face.”

He scoots down to put his head flat on the cushion, and you rise off his shorts. He takes his cock out with a sigh and spits on his fingers as you knee walk forward. He spreads the spit on his cock and breathes vocally, eyes on your tits. You could swear you smell his precum.

He unties your swimsuit bottom and lets half of it fall, leaving your slippery cunt bare. His palms on your ass bring you down, and his scruff drags against your inner thigh. His warm, humid breath envelopes your most sensitive place, then his lips make contact.

One hand leaves you to attend to his raging erection, and he grunts a short “mm” into your cunt at the relief. He laps at your entrance, licking upward, then latches onto the space just above that. He licks your clit, then sucks. He moans into the bundle of nerves, and your thighs tremble. He breaks away for short moments, breathing hot against your folds as he strokes his cock behind you. He eats you voraciously, and you whimper. He’s at just the right spot, doing just the right thing, and he keeps at it.

You brace your hands on the arm of the sofa and think about Joel looking up at you from between your legs. You take a deep breath and see stars. Your body twitches and you moan, riding your waves, with Billy moaning into your cunt. He gently laps at your entrance and strokes himself faster. As your climax wanes, you rise off his mouth, with Billy still stroking himself, not finished. He gathers slick from your folds, brings it to his cock, then pants pants, “How ‘bout another?” He begins to pull you back down.

“No,” you whisper, “that was perfect.” You allow him to keep you there, hovering over him.

“Wanna ride?” His voice is shaky as he keeps pumping his cock behind you.

“Not now,” you answer.

He turns his head slightly, seals his lips on your thigh, and sucks. You reach down between your legs and grab hold of his damp, salty hair to pry him off.

“Mmm,” he responds,“Yeah.” His strokes are heavier and so are his breaths. You experimentally tug at his hair again. He shudders, then paints his stomach in cum, with a warm squirt reaching your ass.

He scoots out from under you and asks for the third time, “you alright?”

You tie your swimsuit again and settle into the loveseat, face and chest still heated from your peak. “Yeah,” you nod.

He fixes his swim trunks then prowls toward you to give you a gentle kiss and you taste yourself on his lips. “You’re tasty, love,” he murmurs, then pulls away.

He puts on his rash guard, then points at you, “Aqua tonight.” Right, his DJ thing. He gets off the loveseat and looks at the clock. “Before I forget,” He grabs his bag and unzips a front pocket that looks to be full of condoms and pill baggies. He turns his head to ask, “How many of ya?”

“Three, I guess.”

He rummages around, then holds up a little baggie with three pills. “Just a little X.”

“Oh, I dunno if we’ll–”

He shrugs. “Might try it.” He looks at the clock and mutters, “shit.”

He presses the baggie into your palm and closes your hand. He holds up a few condoms and asks, “just in case?”.

---Joel----

On the road, Tommy and Maria talk and listen to music. In the back seat, Joel looks out the window, or he wants to look out the window, but he looks at his reflection. He can’t shake the feeling of your warm tears wetting his shirt, or the image of you kissing Billy, or the glance at what he’s pretty sure was a hickey on your neck. He’d be surprised if it wasn’t after what he saw the night before.

The further they get from the resort, the more Joel’s chest tightens. He takes out his phone to text you. He types, “I can’t leave you with him,” stares at it for a few seconds, then erases it.

Who even is he anymore?

Something clicks.

At a stoplight, he says, “Stop at that gas station.” Tommy parks at a pump. They need gas anyway., “Open the hatch,” Joel says. Tommy pops the trunk and gets out of the car to pump gas. Joel grabs his bag from the back and Tommy does a double take.

“You goin’ back?” Tommy asks, not shocked.

“Yeah.” Joel pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll find my way home.”

“We can take ya back,” Tommy offers, nodding in the direction of the resort.

“Nah,” Joel scratches the back of his neck. “Need the fresh air.”

He and Tommy share a brief, manly hug and pat on the back, then Joel walks off with his bag on one shoulder.

Joel’s coming for you. He might not have the right words, but he doesn’t need them. Never did. None of this was built on words. It was something unspoken under something physical and fierce. He pockets his phone and puts on his shades, walking with new resolve. There are things he wants to tell you, and some of them need words, but not all of them. The words can wait. They’ll come easier when you’re back where you belong.

Two hours later, he’s back at the hotel. He smells his own sweat soaking through his shirt, and his phone’s about to overheat.

“Long time no see,” the receptionist says.

“Yeah,” Joel mumbles without humor, then forces a smile. He gets a room, puts his things away, then heads out to find you.

You’re not at the pool. You’re not in any of the common areas.

He goes down to the beach, toward the surf lessons.

Billy’s showing off for a customer. Joel sits in the sand and waits. He admires the way Billy moves in the water, resenting him at the same time.

When Billy’s done, he walks up to Joel. Joel’s eyes fall on Billy’s swim trunks, then his mind goes to your hands, your mouth, your perfect cunt.

Billy extends his hand, and pulls Joel up. He pats Joel’s arm, then lets him go. “Got some time if ya wanna catch a wave.”

“Where is she?” Joel asks.

“I dunno, mate. Prob’ly with her friends?” He motions for Joel to follow him to the shack. Years ago, Billy more or less offered Joel a handjob in that shack. Joel declined, and that was that.

As they enter the shack, Billy unzips his quarter-zip long-sleeve top and pulls it off. He takes a sip of water, then wipes off his mouth. “So,” Billy starts. “What’s the story?” He turns up the water bottle again and it makes a high pitched sound as he sucks it. “Ex-lovers?” he asks with a smile.

Joel’s jaw clenches. He takes a breath through his nose and calms himself. “Not ex.”

Billy chokes on his water, then wipes his mouth again. “Does she know that?”

Joel rakes his hand through his hair, at a loss. “That’s my girl,” he nods, heart pounding.

“I don’t think she is, mate. Women aren’t property-”

“-cut the crap, Billy.” Joel’s chest is heaving.

Billy’s eyes fall to Joel’s right hand, which is flexing into a fist.

“Hit me if it makes ya feel better,” Billy puts down the water bottle and braces himself in a welcoming stance.

This fucker. No, Joel isn’t going to hit him.

Joel forces himself to relax, puts his hands on his hips and shifts his weight, shaking his head at the floor.

Billy lunges toward him, light on his feet as if he’s gonna sucker punch Joel. It’s playful, but Joel drops his shoulder and tackles him to the floor before he can get in a jab.

On the floor, Billy fights back, eyes wild, but Joel’s too strong. He pins him with his left forearm on his chest, straddling him.

Billy grabs Joel’s left tricep. “Look at that,” he marvels. “Unbelievable.”

Joel looks into the blue eyes staring up at him and wonders if you’ve had this POV. For a brief moment, he’s tempted to slide his forearm up to his neck. Billy looks at Joel’s right hand which opens and shuts in the air, stretching.

“I can take it,” Billy urges. “C’mon, knock me around.”

Billy’s enthusiasm takes the wind out of Joel’s sails and brings him back to reality. He releases his forearm and sits back on his knees, still bracketing Billy’s hips. Joel slowly stands with a groan, then helps Billy to his feet.

—- Later at Aqua —--

Billy has given you the closest VIP table. You and your friends are sitting there with a drink. He points at you from his DJ booth, which is on a raised platform. All three of you hold up your drinks and smile at him.

Kari and Nahlah have had their eyes on a couple of guys who are finally approaching. It's a group of three. You decline to dance, so the third guy sits down to have a drink with you instead, shouting over the music, “HOW LONG ARE YOU IN TOWN?” You look past the man, and Billy is laughing, looking down at his mixer board. After indulging the man for another minute or so, you excuse yourself to the restroom, hoping the man will take the hint and disappear in your absence.

On the way to the restroom, you pass a couple of dark rooms with hall windows and suspect people might be fucking in there. The half-pill you’ve taken isn’t doing anything, but you know better than to double it just yet.

When you come out from the restroom, the guy is still at your table. You curse him under your breath and head outside for some fresh air.

You duck out a door that’s propped open. Smokers are milling about. A few partiers are comforting a crying friend. You walk just far enough to get some space from that scene and the artificial light. You lean against the brick wall to breathe. The tiniest droplets of sea water tingle merrily on your face. You open your mouth and can taste it in the air. You fill your lungs and savor the breath. A buzz hums from your skin.

Your dress has a slit on one side and is long enough that you can lift your knee and rest one foot on the wall behind you without exposing yourself—but that wouldn’t be the end of the world anyway. You watch palm leaves rustle in the ocean breeze and look at the sky. There are more stars here than at home. Maybe you should take a walk.

You’re still gazing into the sky when you notice someone in a colorful shirt approaching. They flick their cigarette away and it sparks. You smile, and as they come into focus, they turn into Joel.

Are you rolling that hard after half a pill? You’ve still got your wits about you, don’t you? You watched Joel leave this morning, and you’ve never seen him dressed like this. The colors vibe perfectly on his silk shirt, and a gold chain sparkles underneath. His curls are fluffier than earlier.

He slowly approaches and wets his lips when he’s a few feet away. His eyes rove your body. When he’s close enough, he rests his hand on the brick wall to lean over you. He smells like cloves. He looks tired. He leans a little closer, and you look him in the eyes.

“Thought you left,” you mutter.

He shakes his head, and continues to gaze into your eyes. “Couldn’t do it.”

You run a hand up his chest, palm gliding across his shirt. His chest is strong, and the fabric is like cool shaving cream under your fingers. In the back of your mind, you still have so many questions, but you don’t ask them. Not now.

“You can be mad at me,” his brows knit and he nods twice. ”I deserve that.” His eyes lock on yours. “But I'm not gonna let ya go.”

Your nipples harden with a chill, and your lips part.

His gaze falls from your eyes to your lips, and you tilt your chin up. His eyes fall further, to your neck, and he inhales sharply through his nose. You turn your head the other way. Still braced on the wall, he nudges your chin so he can look at the bruising. You feel his heart rate quicken under your hand, and you slide your hand up to the cold sweat beading on his neck.

His thumb brushes over the bruising. He brings his mouth and nose to the other side and grazes your sensitive skin with his nose. His tongue teases you and you shiver, then he plants his lips. He grunts softly as he marks you. His breath hits your wet skin as he lingers there to murmur, “Missed how ya taste.”

He returns to the bruised side of your neck and licks the mark, tenderly, then harder. It’s sore, but you don’t react. For a moment, his lips lay plush and soft against your damaged skin. Then he opens his mouth wide. He scrapes his teeth, then plants his lips and sucks, and you try not to flinch but let out a little gasp. He tongues and sucks at it for almost five seconds before releasing you.

He soothes the spot with the light touch of his lips, then kisses up your jaw, to your ear, where he murmurs, “What are you on, and how much?”

You tell him.

“Should be fine,” he mutters to himself as he pulls his head back.

“Why?”

He looks back and forth between your eyes. “Wanna make sure you remember.”

You wet your lips and swallow.

He’s close enough that his body heat enhances yours. His whole presence is a warm embrace. You half-heartedly try to conjure what you went through earlier—the hurt, the resolve not to let it happen again. You can’t find it under your affection, wonder, and empathy. Something tells you it’s going to be okay.

He looks at your neck again.

You open your mouth to apologize, but he cuts you off, “Shh.” He takes your hand and leads you back inside.

It’s dark, minus the red and pink lights washing over the dance floor, which is crowded but not quite packed. He gets two soda waters from the bar, and you sit down in the VIP booth. He has his arm around you, caressing your shoulder. Soon, you have your legs in his lap, just happy to have him close. You reach into your dress for the small plastic baggie. Joel is watching the dance floor and idly stroking your leg as you pour the other piece of the pill into your hand. Some of it is powder by now. Joel’s eyes return just in time to see you put it on your tongue.

He squeezes your chin to open your mouth, then, with the same hand, sticks two massive fingers between your lips to retrieve the pill. “You don’t need this,” he mutters, then sticks what remains of the pill in his mouth and takes a sip of water. “What else ya got in there?” Joel feels you up through the fabric on and around your tits, and his eyebrows shoot up when his hand catches on something.

He shoves his hand down your dress and finds it tucked under your arm: a small, foil square. He turns it over and the clear backing reveals a glow-in-the-dark condom. He tosses it onto the table, then pulls you tighter against him. Your hip brushes a warm bulge in his soft black pants, and it twitches. These pants would be so easy to slip your hand into, you just know it. But before you can try, he brings his mouth to your ear. “C’mon, let’s dance.”

On the dance floor, Joel stands behind you, and his heavy arms snake around your torso. He moves with you, with the music, and runs his palms over your dress. His dick hardens, and those silky pants leave nothing to the imagination as the vivid outline grinds against you. You lose yourself in his touch, in the soft rub of his cock, until you sense someone watching and glance toward the DJ booth. Billy smiles to himself and goes back to his mixing board. Joel shamelessly grabs your tit again. You’re already so wet for him. In the corner of your eye, you see Billy still watching but pretend you don’t notice.

“You’re so damn hot,” Joel growls right against your ear as he massages your breast and grinds against you with his arm crossing your body and one hand on your hip. “Uggh,” he groans in arousal. He jostles behind you, adjusting his pants, then gathers the long skirt of your dress. He covers your ass with himself before the air has a chance to hit you. Then his hard, naked cock slides between your thighs. You gasp and look back. He kisses the side of your neck. You’re gushing all over him. Your thong is soaked through, and he’s sliding along your folds, hot and hard. He moans in your ear. His tip pushes the front of your dress out with every thrust through that warm, wet sleeve of your thighs against your cunt.

Each pass of his tip makes you need him so bad. You turn your head back to say, “Let’s go somewhere.”

“You want it?” he asks and slides out from your thighs, reaching down between you to put his dick away before letting your skirt down.

You nod and begin to lead him to the restroom, but he firmly holds your elbow. You turn around and put your arms around his neck to plead, “Let’s go,” nodding toward the bathrooms. He grabs your ass and grinds against your front, raging hard. He holds you close and you give up for the moment.

He dips his head and noses your chin up. His lips brush a sore area, and you twitch. You slot your fingers into his curly locks, making him growl silently into your skin. "Joel," you sigh. "Let's go."

Either he doesn't hear you or pretends not to. "Mmm," his hum vibrates into your skin. He pries his lips off your neck only to plant them on your mouth. Your tongues meet, and you need him, you really need him. Now.

After a few seconds of bliss, you break the kiss to plead, "Let’s go." He reads your face and shakes his head no as a dim red light falls over you in passing. Your mouth falls open in protest. He grinds against you, letting his answer sink in. And in case there's any doubt, he brings his lips to your ear. "Gonna take it right here."

He gathers the front of your dress. You swallow, stunned and throbbing in anticipation.

He takes his cock out under your dress, then lifts one of your thighs, and you hook it around him. He keeps your raised knee against him. Your shoes are just the right height. He pulls your thong to the side and there’s no mistaking how wet and ready you are. Right away, he notches at your entrance. You tilt your hips. His fingers dig into your thigh and the plush of your ass. He plunges in with a grunt, pushing a gasp out of you as he divides your walls in what feels like slow motion. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back as his cock makes its place inside you. He holds you against himself, and your leg stays hiked up as he retreats, then begins to slide into you to the beat of the music. He brings his lips to your ear. “Ohh–good girl.”

You’d envisioned this every day since the last time and somehow forgot it was this good. He holds you close, his body flexing, expertly moving inside yours. You’ve missed this, you’ve really missed it. He grunts and moans into your hair, unrestrained. The music is loud enough.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” he practically shouts, holding you by the ass and thigh as he fucks up into you. It’s a thrill being full of his cock in a sea of people. The song changes and you glance toward the DJ booth. Billy is looking right at you. Joel’s pace slows to match the new tempo. You melt into his arms with the perfect shape of his length dragging between your walls. Billy’s eyes smile, and he slowly nods. You catch him adjusting himself just below the DJ table which makes your walls twitch. You bite your lip.

The grip of Joel’s fingers tightens, pressing firmly into your flesh. Billy’s hand is still below the mixing table when Joel turns your face back toward him and kisses you. Everything else fades away except his mouth on yours and his cock thrusting into you. The smooth slide of his tongue makes you twitch. His thrusts become sharper, deeper with the aid of his bruising grip, and your mouths break apart with labored breaths and moans. God, you’re wet, and only getting wetter.

Joel searches your eyes as he thrusts into you. The lights wash over you again, and his pupils are wide. You gaze at each other, and you hold the back of his head, fingers tangling in his long curls as he slowly fucks you on the dance floor. There’s a glance from one or two dancers, but no one cares.

You steal another glance at Billy, and he looks to be in a trance with his mouth hanging slightly open. He wets his lip and he closes his mouth, then runs his hand through his hair. You bury your face in Joel’s neck, and his familiar scent enhances everything. Pleasure is building more with each thrust of his cock making you whole. Nothing compares to this.

Joel grunts and sighs, and twitches. “Ohh, fuck,” he sighs. Is he going to come like this? God, he’s sexy. He tilts his head down and noses your nose so your chin tilts up and he finds your lips again. He kisses you sloppily, loosely, breathing and grunting, and the way he fills you up— shit, he feels good. Are you going to come like this?

“Don’t let me fall,” you plead.

He stares at your lips and his mouth draws yours in. He bottoms out and stays deep, moving in short pulses, holding you so your front grinds against his.

You break the kiss to sigh, “Fuck.” You whimper against his lips as it overtakes you in slow motion. You don’t hold back. The moan rips out of your chest as your body clenches around his. You pulse, and your body spasms. He holds you tighter. “Ohh,” you moan.

“Oh, baby,” He pants. Each thrust is sharp. “Oh, fuck,” he bottoms out and groans as he pulses powerfully. “Ohhh.” He holds you still as you milk his cock. “Ohh, gg–unghhh.” When he’s nearly spent, an air horn sounds. Joel groans, and you both look toward Billy. He nods and gives a low thumbs up as the last of Joel’s cum dribbles into you. Joel laughs into your hair, “I’m gonna kill’m.”

Joel dips his knees to let his cock slide out. He lets your leg down, then your dress, and fixes his pants. He holds you for a whole song. His cum dribbles down your thigh, and you don't even wipe it with your dress.

“Let's get outta here.”

You look for your friends, and they're still with the guys from earlier. Joel waits as you go over and say goodbye. When you return, he puts his arm around you as you walk outside.

Outside, he hugs you as you wait for an uber. The night has dulled your anxiety, but it’s still there somewhere, and it reveals itself as you think about spending the night with him.

“I still don’t understand,” you whisper.

“I know, baby. Ya will. Promise.”

“Can you just answer one thing?” He waits for your question. “Who drives a black Mercedes?”

You pull back to watch him react.

“Black Mercedes. . .” His brow furrows and he searches the pavement for an answer.

“The SUV you were in.”

“Oh, pumpkin’,” his face softens. “Just my lawyer, baby.” He kisses you on the forehead, which pauses your thoughts and weakens your eyes.

Your phone buzzes with a call from Kari, but the call cuts off. Kari hasn’t texted, but in your messaging app, there’s a new group thread with three unread:

“come over to mine,” Billy had texted minutes ago. Then, “key’s under the cactus.”

Joel had already responded, “not tonight.”

---

if you want the lore about the surf shack in didn't years ago here it is

I'm watching the comments and rbs for what people are excited about and what people want to see 👀

Thank you so much for reading. I really appreciate your patience and support. Your love of night walks Joel and investment in these two makes me really happy. Love you guys 🖤

@silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library

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joeldidnothingwrong · 7 months

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don't point those things at me

#tryna be mad at him like #fine you wanna talk then talk #but i'm already undressing #javier peña #narcos #pedro pascal #my gifs

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pedroisghosties · 2 months

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Ouchie 😮‍💨

#i saw this pic like 4 days ago and i just realized i haven't really seen people talk about it 🤔#pedro pascal

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morallyinept · 6 months

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Shoot: Augustman Singapore, Oct 2019 Issue. Published online on Oct 10th 2019.

Photographer: Doug Inglish

Interviewer: Cezar Greif

Grooming: Mira Chai Hyde

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

Jett's Pedro's Shoots Masterlist

• Cover shot and original images used in the magazine.

• Outtakes and behind the scenes images.

• Full interview.

Pedro Pascal: Life before and after Game of Thrones.

Until recently, people were still erroneously addressing Pedro Pascal as Pascal Pedro. But he didn’t mind. Years of struggle in New York’s theatre scene had taught him to take things in stride. Pascal had studied drama in NYU, with his appearances on television after that limited to bit parts in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and a few cop dramas. It took Game of Thrones, playing the part of Oberyn Martell, to make Pascal a household name – at the age of 37, no less.

Since that breakout role, Pascal has been busy. Among other works, he starred opposite Denzel Washington in The Equalizer 2, played a leading role in the Netflix biographical crime series Narcos, and acted as Agent Whiskey in Kingsman: The Golden Circle. There’s more to come, beginning with the titular character in The Mandalorian, which airs on Disney’s new streaming service Disney+ this November. In June next year, Pascal is slated to appear in the next Wonder Woman movie as the villain Maxwell Lord. Clearly, the man’s career has just properly started.

When did you first fall in love with acting?

At a very young age. My father used to take us to the movies three times a week. He’d come home from work and ask if we wanted to go see something, and we would, of course, want to go. I saw First Blood, The Big Chill, and so many other films. There was one summer when my mother would drop me off at the movie theatre as though it was daycare – times were different back then.

I’d watch a few screenings of movies like Poltergeist in one afternoon before she picked me up at six. This exposure to films led to a hobby in acting that my parents were happy I had – at least I wasn’t sitting around watching cable TV all day. It occupied so much of my time and eventually turned into serious training.

Why did you make the shift?

I had to take things more seriously if I wanted to stick with it. It wasn’t just being in love with the idea of appearing in movies and on stage any more – I needed to learn to analyse a story, delve deeper into the various aspects of acting, and learn the technical side of things. What came next was getting jobs to pay the bills. Surviving as an actor, basically.

You took some time to find mainstream success. Did you ever consider quitting?

The confidence definitely fluctuates. I didn’t develop other skills, so my familiar routine was to attend auditions for jobs. One would be enough to pay for rent and food for a while, or I had to wait tables to pay for my expenses. It felt completely desperate because I was really in love with the art of acting and the idea of being a working actor.

But I always got enough work to keep going. I don’t think I would have if I couldn’t get a job in three years or something like that, but such a thing never happened. I would get a role in a tiny little play outside of Boston, or a beer commercial, or an episode of a cop show in the city.

Do you appreciate your popularity more since it came later? How do you think this has influenced the way you approach your status as a celebrity now?

I was definitely more self-assured because my habits and routines were firmly in place and felt more important to me than my newfound success. I know it’s hard for me to describe this, but I just don’t feel famous. That wasn’t part of my development when I was younger, so I came into it “fully cooked”, or maybe even overdone. (laughs) As exciting and as strange as fame can be, it just doesn’t feel as real to me as my relationships, or the fact that my backaches, or how I panic in the morning if I don’t know exactly where I can get my coffee. Those things have much higher stakes to me than the public’s perception of who I am.

Can you identify a reason for your success? Did it make sense for to you when it “arrived”, perhaps because you thought you were becoming a better actor, or was it pure luck?

I oscillate between the two. It can seem totally random, which is terrifying because anything can happen, but the randomness of it all makes a little more sense to me. But I see some clearly predestined circumstances for other people, and you sometimes have these very clear realisations that an opportunity was kept from you a long time ago because it wasn’t the right place or the right time. I guess I probably lean more towards the randomness of it all, or the simple idea that if you keep at the same damn thing, you’re increasing your chances of it succeeding.

And how do you view your breakout role in Game of Thrones now?

It changed my life, but what’s interesting is how all the silly jobs that I’ve had before this one also felt like big breaks. I was a jobbing actor by my late 20s, and I was just as excited with some seventh-tier role on some network television show because it meant that I could pay some bills.

That felt like as big as a win as anything else. It’s the same with theatre. Because it’s so hard to go from the small plays to the medium-sized ones, getting a role in the latter feels like a miracle too. I was close to becoming homeless many times in the past, and was actually staying at an AirBnB before getting the role in Game Of Thrones, so I must really thank the showrunners David Benioff and D.B. Weiss for taking that chance on me.

Has your experience in theatre helped your work in film? How do they compare?

Theatre work is like the building blocks of what I do now. From Shakespeare to something contemporary, and everything in between, I’ve done them all. When you perform the same thing eight times a week, you’re constantly reworking your role to keep it interesting, whether it’s discovering something new or discarding something that exists. It feels like training. The last time I took classes was in college – and that’s something I don’t recommend – but doing theatre work felt like staying in school, which helped. Plus, it provided medical insurance and a weekly paycheck.

Tell us more about the new Mandalorian series.

It’s taking things in a new direction. I think it’s amazing that Lucasfilm is letting Jon Favereau and Dave Felloni take Star Wars into new territories as far as style and tone are concerned, from using practical effects and digital special effects in tandem, to exploring characters out of the familiar Star Wars settings.

They’re also blurring the boundaries between the good guys and the bad guys, and I love the idea of having things in a grey area. We’re dealing with the outer reaches of the galaxy here, which means a lot of ambivalence around what is right and wrong, and the conflict between self-serving and self-sacrificial decisions and actions. It’s all very much a part of the Star Wars story. As for the character, the Mandalorian is a bounty hunter, and people pay him to do jobs. Let’s just leave it at that for now.

Christopher Nolan said he casted Tom Hardy as Bane because of how he acts through his eyes in the mask. What was it like to express everything you needed to in this role with a full-face helmet on?

Much of the work is already taken care of by the writing, which is great, as well as the visual experience that the show provides. But it was still important to me to live in the story as a person who does not show his face, so I worked a lot on the character’s body language. It feels almost like going back to theatre. I think that there’s a lot that can be told with stillness and very economical movements.

I hear that you’re a real movie nerd. Do you have recommendations for fairly unknown directors or movies that we should pay attention to?

I just saw this incredible movie called Monos by Alejandro Landes. It was amazing. And I’ve been floored by [director] Ari Aster. He’s an aesthetician that also brings out great performances, and the films Hereditary and Midsommar blew me away totally. There’s also someone who’s up and coming – Taika Waititi – who made Jojo Rabbit, that’s, in my opinion, the best movie of the year.

Jett's Pedro's Shoots Masterlist

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