#and every shot is gorgeously framed

[dying-suffering-french-stalkers]

[freckleslikestars]

Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back (1980) Written by Leigh Brackett and Lawrence Kasdan, Directed by Irvin Kershner

Episode description from Disney, [insp: ☆★☆★ ]

[darkshrimpemotions]

Light & Framing in WWDITS: Nandermo Edition

I really have to give props to whoever does the lighting and cinematography for What We Do In The Shadows. They took what could easily have been an excuse to cheap out on those things--the show's format as a half-hour comedy mockumentary--and said a resounding fuck that.

Every frame of this show is gorgeously and thoughtfully lit and shot and colored, and not just the big pivotal moments. Truly every shot. The sets and the costumes also do a lot of heavy lifting here, but still everything is framed so carefully and intentionally. And considering this show is at least 55% fucking improv? That is seriously impressive. I've seen big budget network cornerstone series take less care with their most pivotal moments than this show takes with like...any random moment (I know, I know, it's okay, I can say Game of Thrones).

Take this shot for example (thanks to @indashadows!):

Now bear in mind, this is ONE shot in ONE scene in an episode. An important scene, but not a long one. And yet in this scene, every single detail--from the actors' body language to the framing to the lighting to their fucking outfits--reinforces the underpinning context and subtext of the scene.

Look at Nandor. His posture is so open and vulnerable. He's facing directly toward Guillermo, looking slightly up at him actually instead of down at him like he usually would be. They're almost eye level but not quite. His face is fully lit, and his body is more in light than shadow, with the parts facing Guillermo lit and the parts facing away from him in deep shadow.

Nandor is being very open, honest, and vulnerable with Guillermo in this scene, probably more so than he's ever been before! All the pretense, the aloofness he usually hides behind is now shoved to the back. They're also on nearly equal footing compared to their usual situation, with Guillermo possibly having a slight upper hand due to how thrown everyone, including Nandor, is by the revelation that he's a vampire slayer.

(I know Nandor knew he killed Carol and the Baron, but given those were both accidents I think it's reasonable to say Nandor was still surprised about the slayer from a long line of notorious slayers aspect of the revelation.)

Another way to read this is that Nandor is at a disadvantage because of what he doesn't know in this scene, i.e. that Guillermo can leave any time he wants, that Guillermo has been listening to their conversations, and that Guillermo is using that information now to manipulate him. It's left somewhat up to interpretation whether Nandor actually knows any of this or not, so YMMV there. But the point stands that in either interpretation, Nandor is on his back foot here a bit and the framing and lighting of the scene reflects that.

Now contrast that with Guillermo. His posture is closed off, he's hunched in on himself. He's leaning toward Nandor, but he's not facing him or looking at him directly. His eyes are downcast. He's positioned a little above Nandor, but he's not acknowledging or reveling in that change of position in any way; in fact, he seems to be minimizing it with the way he's standing. Almost his entire body including his face is in shadow, with only the parts facing away from Nandor receiving any light.

Guillermo is not being vulnerable, open, or honest with Nandor in this moment. Whether Nandor knows everything or not, Guillermo thinks he's playing Nandor here. He thinks he has information Nandor isn't privy to (the hole in the cage and the hidden cameras) and knows things Nandor doesn't know he knows (the conversations he's overheard). Guillermo is normally much more open and vulnerable with Nandor, which often results in him getting his feelings (at the very least) hurt. But this is one time when he's consciously choosing to push his care for Nandor to the backburner in order to take care of himself for once.

(I also have FEELINGS about light representing emotional honesty and vulnerability between these two characters in the show about vampires and what they do in the shadows. Maybe I'll scream about them later.)

And here's the real kicker: they are so in odds with their approach here, their usual roles in the relationship are being reversed in ways neither is fully comfortable with...and yet they're still on the same damn page.

They both have the same ultimate goal in this scene: to get Guillermo out of the cage and have the other vampires in the house accept him and stop insisting on killing him. They are both trying to take care of Guillermo in their own ways. And as the show often does, it underscores this in part via the similarities in their outfits (but that is a WHOLE other fucking massive meta-post currently sitting in my drafts).

[watchnrant]

A Discovery of Witches: Season 1 – A Bewitching Journey through Romance, Mystery, and Magic

Supernatural dramas often teeter between guilty pleasures and forgettable fluff, but A Discovery of Witches defies these expectations with a spellbinding narrative and captivating visuals. This isn’t just another tale of vampires, witches, and the occasional werewolf vying for screen time. No, this series takes the genre by the throat and elevates it, delivering a first season that’s as much about unraveling the mysteries of the heart as it is about ancient manuscripts and spell-casting.

Visual Mastery: A Feast for the Eyes

The cinematography in A Discovery of Witches is nothing short of lavish, transforming each scene into a sumptuous visual feast that rivals high-budget feature films. From the sun-drenched spires of Oxford’s Bodleian Library to the almost unbearably romantic gloom of Matthew Clairmont’s ancestral home, Sept-Tours, every frame is meticulously crafted to draw you into its world.

Take those scenes in Oxford, for instance. The camera doesn’t just capture the scholarly majesty of the place; it positively revels in it, lingering on each stone column and every dust-covered tome like they’re the most precious things in the world. It’s not just scenery; it’s a mood, a vibe—an atmospheric hook that digs into your soul and refuses to let go. With its gorgeously shot, centuries-old secrets, Sept-Tours feels less like a setting and more like a character in its own right.

While this detailed visual analysis is crucial to conveying the series visual splendor, the focus remains on maintaining the shows momentum. This ensures that the richness of the insights is preserved without overwhelming the viewer.

Performances: Spellbinding Chemistry

Matthew Goode’s portrayal of the enigmatic vampire Matthew Clairmont is sharp and intense, perfectly balancing menace with a surprising vulnerability. His performance is pitch-perfect, walking the fine line between menacing and magnetic while also showing a depth that makes his character deeply compelling.

Then there’s Teresa Palmer, who takes on the role of Diana Bishop, a witch who’s been denying her powers her whole life. Palmer’s Diana is no damsel in distress. She’s curious, intelligent, and cautious but never weak—just the kind of protagonist you can root for. The chemistry between Palmer and Goode is electric, the type of slow-burn romance that makes you want to scream at your screen for them to kiss already. But when they do? It’s fireworks—undeniably the series’ emotional core; their relationship keeps you returning for more.

Supporting characters also get their moment in the spotlight. Malin Buska’s portrayal of Satu, the witch with a dark side, is particularly noteworthy. Satu’s relentless pursuit of Diana creates tension, making every episode feel like a powder keg. Meanwhile, the delightful dynamic between Diana’s aunts, Sarah and Em, adds a layer of warmth and grounding that keeps the series from getting lost in its supernatural grandeur.

Storytelling: A Tapestry of Intrigue and Emotion

A Discovery of Witches doesn’t just lay all its cards on the table from the get-go. No, it plays the long game, slowly unraveling its mysteries like a well-worn novel—just enough to keep you hooked while leaving plenty of threads dangling to pull you into the next episode. The series is a masterclass in world-building, introducing you to its magical universe in a natural and almost organic way. You don’t get bogged down in endless exposition; instead, you discover this world alongside Diana, which makes the journey all the more immersive.

Thematically, the show’s depth lies in its exploration of identity and heritage, which is woven seamlessly into the narrative. Diana’s journey of self-discovery as she uncovers the truth about her lineage is not just a plot device; it’s the beating heart of the series. Her struggles resonate on a personal level, offering viewers a reflection on the often tricky path to self-acceptance. These themes also parallel broader cultural conversations around identity and self-discovery, making the show’s exploration of heritage and acceptance particularly resonant in today’s society. Matthew’s battles with his nature as a vampire add another layer of depth, turning what could have been a standard supernatural romance into a poignant meditation on embracing one’s true self, flaws and all.

A Few Hiccups: Pacing Pains

If there’s one chink in the armor, it’s the pacing. About halfway through the season, things start to speed up—almost too quickly. The pacing, particularly in the second half of the season, accelerates at the expense of crucial character development, such as the rushed transition from Diana’s abduction to her rescue. These narrative shortcuts dilute the emotional impact, leaving specific plot points feeling underdeveloped. This rush disrupts the overall narrative coherence and affects the emotional connection to the characters, making it harder for viewers to invest in their journeys fully.

Final Verdict: A Supernatural Triumph

A Discovery of Witches Season 1 is a triumph of supernatural storytelling. It’s a show that doesn’t just ride the coattails of its genre—it reinvents it, offering a sophisticated, emotionally resonant narrative that’s as enchanting as it is exhilarating. Sure, the pacing could use a little fine-tuning, but that’s a small price to pay for a series that delivers such rich rewards in terms of character, theme, and sheer visual splendor.

Whether you’re a die-hard fan of supernatural romance or someone who appreciates intricate character development and lush visual storytelling, A Discovery of Witches stands out as a show that casts its spell early and never lets go. It’s a series that promises not just escapism but an emotionally rich and visually captivating journey that leaves viewers eagerly awaiting the next season.

[eoinmcgonigal]

Aaand more!

Eoin McGonigal (Ep 1, part 2)

The next scene with Eoin is the gorgeously intimate little bit in the tent, shot and framed so well that it looks like they're alone in their own little world. The netting makes it seem so private, but it's not - and that's something about absolutely every interaction Eoin shares with Paddy. There is ALWAYS someone else around. The only time they're alone and Paddy can take his hand is when Eoin is dead.

Anyway, I digress.

So, we see the most adorable entrace in Eoin's second scene. The little jump out of the back of the jeep with a 'hyuup!' and "cheers lads!" before he hums and tosses his cap, meandering to bed in a good mood. We don't know where he was, but you can bet it was something social. He was not waiting for Paddy. He was doing his own thing. I'll put money on Eoin being a lot more outgoing than is let on. We only see him with Paddy, so the richness of his world outside of Paddy is missing. I just think he chooses to spend time alone with Paddy, rather than it being his natural inclination. He strikes me as someone who is very comfortable having lots of friends, and who is good at being arond people. That makes his closeness to Paddy so much more meaningful. It's not his default, it's not out of necessity. He chooses that man. He knows exactly what he's opting into, despairs a bit, yes, but he's happy making that choice.

Which is why what unfolds hits harder than anyone might realise at first glance.

Eoin, in a good mood, comes back to find Paddy in bed, reading poetry. The netting around their beds opens to each other. Nice detail. And it means that Eoin can eagerly ask Paddy what happened, keen to hear. His body language, the way he leans forward, the way he watches Paddy. He's invested.

So, when you watch it again, look at the way Eoin's happiness collapses when he hears Paddy say that he's going to the Far East. The smile hangs there like the facade of a building that's just had the interior obliterated. His damaged question of: "You are?"

Now, this is definitely the Paddy-and-Eoin-come-as-a-pair bit. Because Eoin, firmly rooted on the ground, patient with Paddy, knowing him, understanding him, being trusted by him... hasn't heard anything about the Far East yet. A huge piece of something is missing. And he wonders who the men are that Paddy went to meet. He doesn't know. And in that moment it's not about broken trust, it's about Eoin realising that he's on the outside of something in Paddy's life, and doesn't have all the facts. Stirling and Lewes weren't important details before, but now they've come to the forefront of everything. Paddy told them about Burma before talking to Eoin. For perhaps the first time, Eoin feels insecure in his relationship with Paddy.

But his reaction isn't one of jealousy. It's one of concern, even though he's hurt. He listens to Paddy talk about these men. The "but you don't dismiss them" is double-edged. Eoin takes Paddy seriously, understands the way he speaks and what he says by not saying it. He doesn't let Paddy's toffs joke placate him or dismiss his concern either. He does value Paddy's opinion because, even if he might not share it, he needs to know it to understand what's going on. Eoin also, however, questions these men by saying/asking that. Like, Paddy has just said all those things. Is he right not to dismiss them too? He's trying to invite the question: Why don't you dismiss them, then?

Which Paddy answers. And Eoin doesn't laugh along with the 'because they're dead men, just awaiting confirmation... [laugh] like me'. Eoin falls back on what he was doing - undressing - and looks away when Paddy says that. The hurt and pain he's feeling is just awful. His lovely, happy evening has been torn down to nothing within the space of a few heartbeats. And how Paddy sees himself, that laughing at death, not valuing what he has in life... You can't tell me Eoin isn't wounded by that, that it doesn't hurt him to watch someone he cares about so deeply and choose to be with act like that. And the Far East thing. Paddy not having confided in him, just springing this news on Eoin, announcing that he's leaving, going away somewhere far, far away, leaving Eoin. And it is leaving Eoin, because this is something Paddy's decided on his own, and hasn't shared. Eoin's not a part of it.

When he lies down, Eoin's pose is carefully composed. When Paddy starts talking about how it'll be a grand show, Eoin looks up to the ceiling. His breathing is that of someone trying to steady themselves. He moves his hand to rub at his chest in a self-soothing way. He is really, really lost in the wake of this blow.

Now, Paddy. Paddy's silence. The pause and hesitation before his question: "Here, do you want to come as well?" That's truly, I believe, a moment where Paddy is so out of his depth. He's been thinking about Burma. It's a thing he's set on. But he has no idea how to ask Eoin. Asking means Eoin might say 'no'. It makes him vulnerable in a way Paddy isn't used to, or at ease with. He doesn't know how to deal with it. So his 'want to come as well?' is the best way he can ask, in that moment, for Eoin to stay with him. It's not elegant. It's not graceful, tacking it on like an afterthought, and it's certainly not indicative of any great social skills.

But Eoin immediately understands that.

Even before he answers, he seems at peace again. Settled. And his "yeah." Paddy is even looking at him, away from the poetry he's been hiding in, using as a shield as he tries to navigate the conversation. And Eoin shifting, turning towards Paddy. "Fuck it. Why not?" There's softness and joy and gentleness in that. His entire being becomes more relaxed: his body, his voice, his gaze.

And it's because of more than Paddy tacking on that seemingly off-hand 'wanna?'. It's because of it. Because Eoin realises that Paddy really did want to ask, but just didn't know how to. Eoin's own insecurity is easy to put in place and then set aside because Paddy clearly did want to talk to him about this, but just hadn't worked out how. For all his love of words, Paddy is pretty fucking bad at using them to express what he truly wants. Matters of the heart are closely, closely guarded.

That look they share, the way they're both happy... They're such different people, with different ways of communicating and being, but they make it work. Or, Eoin knows how to make it work, and Paddy trusts him and tries. Eoin didn't demand to know 'why didn't you tell me?' when he hears about the Far East. He asks 'you are?', and lets Paddy explain in his own way. Just the same as the 'for having no ID?'. Even when he was hurt, Eoin didn't react rashly, didn't lash out verbally. He just tried to understand.

[Eoin meta] [Part 1]

[artfilmfan]

Joyland was the first Pakistani film i saw (i have seen a few with actors of Pakistani origin but set elsewhere) and it was truely incredible. Gorgeously shot (one indoor shot at night gave me the Tarkovsky/Zerkalo vibes in the best possible manner), important subject dealt with the most humane touch and two outstanding leads. A lot of talent, love and attention to details went into this and it shows in every frame of the film. Cinema rarely gets better than this. Warmly recommended (if the Cannes approval isn’t enough)

[mesaylormoon]

The Florida Project: A Review

I'm a little embarrassed that I've taken seven years to watch The Florida Project from start to finish. It's an A24 movie that has lived in Netflix's streaming library for years, but only this morning did I decide to appreciate the film in all its glory. The trailers offered such an earnest depiction of the beauty of childhood, and the entire cast appeared to share such rich chemistry in a plot driven by nothing but character interaction. Now that I've seen it, I see what a disservice I've done to myself by waiting so long to review it.

Pros:

The cast is comprised of fantastic actors. The children are particularly impressive players

The film is gorgeously shot and features a color palette full of warm, rich pastels. Every frame of this movie is drenched in vibrant shades of lavender, pink, orange, and other inviting colors. This presentation gives The Florida Project a look like no other

The slice-of-life narrative is an innovative approach to storytelling. Rather than being propelled by action, conflict, or characters, the film is essentially a string of interactions woven together by a single thread

The exchanges between the characters and the lack of musical compositions (with the exception of the ending scene) make the movie feel so genuine and give it a documentary-like quality. As a result, this film is probably the closest to a replication of reality I've ever seen

Character motivations are very simple, but identifiable

The Florida Project is one of few movies that embraces a setting in a less-privileged environment. The tone of the film is consequently made that much more raw and intense

Everything about this film's presentation promotes the importance of being able to find an inner beauty in a difficult setting or situation

The ending scene (especially Brooklyn Prince's performance)

Cons:

The slice-of-life approach has the potential to be very boring to audiences who prefer more excitement in movies. The subject matter itself also has a tendency to create an uncomfortable tone throughout the feature

The Florida Project does little to nothing to improve the reputation of people who live in poverty. This is an especially big problem considering so many people who live in less fortunate circumstances deserve to be depicted in a more positive light

Verdict: The Florida Project is a great film. I regret having not finished this movie when I learned of its existence in 2017. It's definitely a picture I will revisit again in the future. Slice-of-life stories are narratives I wish I could see portrayed in media more often, and the cast's performances help to solidify The Florida Project's place as one of the best independent films ever made.

[ollyfo]

Weekly Intake 26/10-23/11/22

Missed quite a few weeks of posting, so a lot of things to comment on here.

Film - In the past month I watched: The Motorcycle Diaries (Walter Salles), WALL-E (Andrew Stanton), Black Adam (Jaume Collet-Serra), Captain America: The Winter Soldier (Joe Russo, Anthony Russo), Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius (John A. Davis), One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest (Miloš Forman), Barbarian (Zach Cregger), Triangle of Sadness (Ruben Östlund), Boiling Point (Philip Barantini), Red Eye (Wes Craven), The Phenomenon (Duncan McMath), Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (Ryan Coogler), Roma (Alfonso Cuarón).

Television - I watched the limited series FIFA Uncovered, watched The Leftovers season 1, continued Andor, and started JuJutsu Kaisen.

Reading - I finished The Amazing Spider-Man; The Parker Luck (Dan Slott, Humberto Ramos), read Kingdom Come (Mark Waid and Alex Ross), continued Into the War (Italo Calvino), started reading Sex Criminals Vol. 2 (Matt Fraction).

Class - In class we've been moving on to our final projects. One of those being the scene recreation. The thing I've realised is just how hard it is so create a 'normal' lighting setup. It's tough trying to recreate something that doesn't want to stand out whatsoever.

Conversation - Talked with a friend about the difference between loving movies and the different ways you can. Specifically in two ways, one being you love a movie because you would want to make it and it feels tangible. The second being you love it because you can't possibly fathom how someone could create it. This stemmed from Roma, I can't imagine how anyone could make it.

HIGHLIGHT OF THE WEEK - Roma (Alfonso Cuarón, 2018)

Roma sunk into me as I watched it. One particualr sequence after the half way point, was one of the best I've ever seen. At this point, it made me realise just how deep in the world I was, and from then on out and I couldn't escape. Every frame is filled with purpose and life, shot gorgeously by Cuarón himself.

[topracingmultiplayergames]

Top 3 Best Multiplayer Racing Games To Play

Dirt Rally 2.0

From the first race of your career that you race a gorgeously drawn Lancia Fulvia HF across the Leczna segments in Poland It's evident that this is very a game designed by an experienced team that truly understands the game. The experience from behind the wheel is incredibly realistic often - especially in post-race replays and barring the occasional flat texture Dirt Rally 2.0 is an amazing-looking racing game.

Thankfully those good appearances are backed with some game-playing skills, and there are all of the standard configurations for armchair competitors to play around with to alter a car's underpinnings before taking it out onto the program. You can tweak almost every aspect of your car, from the ratio of the gears to the tire compound (a new feature in Rally 2.0), and in many cases the number of spares you're planning to carry. It is all considered a suitable enough explanation to ensure that even those with a minimal curiosity about cars can customize their valuable vehicle to suit their preferences.

When you're satisfied with the set-up - you're able to take part in a few shakedowns just before the upcoming place of any happening to check the design. Then it is the experience of racing. While there's an array of competitors trying to beat you while you hurtle over in the dirt, the only forte anyone views while the rally is truthfully experienced. This truly is a house game exactly where it is people versus the track. It's imperative to be sharp purely to stay around the course, with the former recreation's precise handling system returning to help you bargain the frequently exceptionally narrow tracks. If you're looking for a Rally game that captures the sensation of multiple inches being the distinction between accomplishments and tying yourself to a tree Dirt Rally 2.0 will have you covered, notably, if you fancy having a go in one of several viciously challenging RWD competitors.

Dirt Rally 2.0 goes far to make you feel like you're in the position of a race driver, and the loading screens flash with information regarding the circuit you're about tackle starting from the altitude above the sea up to the time of day your slot is really at. The headline feature this competition sequel delivers on the course is very its surface destruction, with the circuits getting more inconsistent and with deeper ruts and troughs the more on the jogging order you're going to be. It's more complex than the arcade stylings of the last gen's Sega Rally, however, there is an obvious distinction between an earlier run and one that's later. In an extremely difficult sim racer, Codemasters has doubled down on the problem for all those further on the road. This all adds to the series already noteworthy altitude of authenticity, but will you need to the hard-core and occasional gamers may play without any thought.

The lighting in Dirt Rally 2.0 is gorgeous additionally, the dynamic environment blends some breathtaking backdrops that may cause you to be distracted from driving. The lighting effects aid in the reflection along the vehicles. The mud and dirt collect for the cars as well. The actual physical damages tend to be as comprehensive as you'd probably think of from a Codemasters label. The terrain, particularly in the moist with standing puddles, creates a realistic and hypnotic feel. The interior of the car when the vehicle is racing directly from the cockpit is truly very detailed. The recreation manages at the same smooth and steady frame speed. Just what's much more remarkable are replays after the race, but sometimes, this exposes attention sores, as some camera shots reveal weak details on draw distance, as well as low-resolution ambiance elements. The images that are together with the music from the game are truly a perfect example of serene beauty.

The audio of the engine's sound scream across the gorgeous backgrounds and the beautiful backdrops Codemasters presents continually finished a fantastic job of capturing the sounds of engines that are present in games. Each car is unique and a headset places you into the driving seat. The navigator's voice comes across as peaceful and concise and is not obstructed by the sound of the entire system. The background music is akin to a golf game title as this creates a calm ambiance when you navigate through the menus.

You will discover a few issues I may have about the game, excluding several of the visible problems on replays. Although the game provides its own FIA Rallycross World Championship as well as its eight tracks, the regular rally is very based upon actual places. If you're searching for those official Pikes Peak courses, they're not available. In addition, there's simply one hill that is established in Argentina. This appears that there is a possibility that the Monte Carlo Rally is currently being added shortly, but that will be part of the Season One DLC. While the environment acts as a pretty important element, however, the game is currently without snow, but it is expected as being integrated as soon as season one DLC starts coming out. DLC appears to be spread out over time between brand-new competitions and auto launches however, you'll need to pay for it.

When DiRT Rally was introduced it began transforming the brains of many long-time racers. One problem anyway was always asked "But is it any better than Richard Burns Rally?" undoubtedly the same is supposed to be asked again of DiRT Rally 2.0. 15 years old and numerous modifications later, it's hard to evaluate RBR to contemporaries without bias. As the original IL-2 is into the flight sim genre, it can continuously hold a special residency in people's spirits. Perhaps it's a chance to reduce asking that question. You can believe both of them are truly amazing in their way. Produce no mistake about though DiRT Rally 2.0 is an excellent game that takes exactly what has been exceptional about the basic and improved upon it. There are a couple of games I can classify as a need to buy but DiRT Rally 2.0 is among one them. If you are interested in quality games, you can buy cheap games at an affordable price.

Grand Theft Auto V

If you've been living on Mars and with your big eyes shut and your hands inside your ear for the past twelve months, then you ought to know exactly about GTA 5. It's simply one, if certainly not, one of the best open-world games in recent history that have been remastered with a brand new version for the next generation of consoles, courtesy of Rockstar North. The addictiveness that the GTA series offers has been there for years. Rockstar created a monster along with the 1st episode of GTA in 1997 and ever since then, each brand new installment has set the benchmark higher. Never before has the American dream appeared as real as if you're viewing this city referred to as Los Santos. San Andreas returns graphically polished and comes with the addition of a first-person perspective that will make performing GRAND THEF AUTO 5 a fresh adventure that you can enjoy.

The sun-soaked sandy beaches in Los Santos, through to the high-rises and wheeling hills that cover this big open world are all generally identical to what they were relating to the endure generation however they now have a more sharp smoother, and sleeker design. Three main characters return to you and flipping through every one of them as the story unfolds remains a joy to play. In case you've played through GTA 5 currently, re-visiting these complex yet stimulating roles is as pleasing a man and thrilling as it was before.

GTA5 5 is a technological accomplishment that is unmatched by any other. Its city Los Santos is a playing field that is cute, surprising, nasty, and unpredictable. It's whatever you want to make it, that's the reason why GTA 5 remains to be the most popular open-world game. NPCs that are aplenty in every part belonging to the city appear to have their particular personalities which bring realism to this city. Los Santos oozes a lavish style through every inch of its. The heroes you meet in the tale are unforgettable and as such, the overall game absorbs you completely. You can buy cheap games, you just have to access the link above.

Grand Theft Auto's next-generation looks spectacular, and realistic-looking and eye-popping environments can sound amazing when playing open-world games. Crisscrossing the same terrain over and over, players notice latest the game details every time they ride into those Hollywood Hills, barrel recklessly across the shoulder of the road, and run past the countless sketched-out heroes screaming and ranting on the streets.

It's a summary of the degree of depth within the world of games that was insane in the beginning Imagine professionally-curated and produced radio broadcasts in-game made to provide us with a variety of traveling through towns in whips that were stolen or flip-flops that produce a flip-flopping sound as people walk on them, car engines that help make the "tink-tink-tink" sound once you switch off the engine hot. Now, it's got a bump.

But GRAND THEF AUTO V next-generation is not just better looking and less flickering and jaggy port. You'll find new assignments and vehicles and a pile of brand new content for coming back GRAND THEF AUTO Online gamers. That person may have effortlessly expected. But it additionally provides an original feature to Rockstar Game: a first-person perspective mode. Another rampage through Los Santos via the focus of your character, instead of looking over his shoulder It's both an interesting and remarkable feature that brings a lot of respect.

The characters aren't much like trustworthy folks than unusual vehicles for GRAND THEF AUTO's trademark punchy satire, however, they tend to be well-written. Franklin is going to be most naive as he is a decent person on the common rags to riches rise. Michael already provides the wealth, but his middle-aged soul is rotting within an upper-class mansion that is surrounded by his family members who hate him. And Trevor is truly an unhinged sociopath.

Transforming instantly three is very something that I'm not over, particularly when it comes to the sometimes hilarious scenarios that you'll encounter when you switch. Trevor is awake in the middle of the night or is truthfully bombing through the countryside using the level of a 4-star wanted. Franklin is fighting together with his aunt. Michael is spilling the mid-life emergency at the legs of his shrink. All of this brings within the impression that GTA 5 carries on whether you are playing this or not.

Then it's GTA Online, a house game that is so massive you'll slightly get a glimpse of the game after-hours of play and now it's even more. The main enhancement is that 30 users are running around in free-roam mode, swooping around in jets, launching impromptu street races, or, you no doubt know, enjoying a round of golf. The complete city transforms into a huge playground as Rockstar has shut down all the laws to satisfy the lust for speed of its fans. "Go on," it is telling you. ' We all know what you want to do is to rant about in fighter jets, and ride motorbikes over the top of the skyscrapers. Knock by yourself out.' Plus causing your character, and then carrying them through the levels scratch that RPG itch great. Ah, have fun with breaks. Bucks. Grinding? No. Grinding here refers to playing capture the flag using airplanes.

The dimensions and aspirations of GTA Online typify the full game. It is super, compact, and extremely engaging. You will never attain annoyed. GTA 5 is one of the greatest little games of the last generation. Now, it truly can be considered one of the tops of this generation, too.

Hot Wheels Unleashed

Incorporating arcade racing and classic plastic, Hot Wheels Unleashed aims to provide enthusiasts with the white-knuckle toy automobile vehicle racing happening that the brand's commercials have always promised. With a variety of reputable automobile licensed models, such as the DeLorean of straight back to the near future, and the iconic sensual tires originals like the Bone Shaker, Hot Wheels Unleashed embraces the brand's heritage by letting you race across the most imaginatively designed plastic race tracks with tiny toy vehicles. Driving these plastic cars through vibrantly colored race tracks housed in large rooms recalls the time I set along the earliest dildos in my living room area when I has been young and, together with a superb driving mechanic and feel that make Hot Wheels Unleashed a joy to play with.

In Hot Wheels, Unleashed's City Rumble mode takes the role of a single-player campaign with an overview game map with speedy competitions and time trials, as well as enigmas, and five boss battles that could be chosen. The completion of an event allows you to progress further along a particular development path or progress onto the upcoming kingpin battle or get a treat in the city. Each mission has got up benefits in terms of upgrades materials, coins, and unlockables which are as well as brand-new circuits for this quick play mode or new objects to decorate the ambiance of the basement. This keeps the single-player mode simple, limiting the boundaries between your and the afterward action-packed race.

The racing of Hot Wheels Unleashed is in the pleasing spot of arcade racing. This has trouble-free commands that still offer enough detail to feel rewarding. The recreation has only a gas pedal, a brake pedal, and a boost switch. The brake is able for drifting, which is as complicated as auto racing gets. But, with every vehicle having different characteristics and speeds, mastering place drifts and boost-timing is a complicated and satisfying adventure. The best time to start the use of boost on the loop or anytime to stop the rate coming into the tight corners differs from car to car, giving the necessary deepness to provide the video game some longevity. Food trucks that weigh more don't have as much speed but manage more easily while racing and drifting. Having said that, much lighter cars go a lot faster but can become more confusing to control. Lighter vehicles also are more likely to flip over if people take a turn that is too fast or if another vehicle roars into people, so right there tend to be some strategic decisions to consider, too.

Sizzling hot Wheels City Rumble provides the meat of the single-player adventure, providing a myriad of fast races and time trials on the game's wide range of tracks. You'll earn in-game currency, brand new areas to customize your basement, and even a car or two as you fill alfresco the map. While you're navigating the overworld, you might also run into Boss Races. These are generally important events that feature the most interesting hazards and longest tracks, as well as rewarding you with the greatest amount of stuff. These events require you to meet certain requirements before they allow you to unlock them. It is an enjoyable idea, however, they appear to depend on your great competition with certain automobiles, which is a little tricky if most of the collection is locked at random.

Indeed, the game's Blind Boxes are generally your main method of acquiring new cars. Although you can unlock distinct sizzling hot Wheels within the City Rumble campaign, the vast vast majority of your vehicles will come from these loot box-style objects. These can be earned through single-player events, or bought with money, you'll end up popping receptive these boxes quite often. Automobiles come with rarities, therefore after your collection is stuffed outside, people may be able to find themselves with a few repetitions, which can be a lot of fun.

[romanceyourdemons]

my fucking god guys. it’s a frame within a frame

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Santa's Favorite Elf

12 Days of Christmas Writing Event- Day 1

Alexander Skarsgård x Reader. Drabble (A/n- lmao I've been secretly writing for him for months, but this is the first time I'm posting anything on him. Be gentle, please)

Masterlist

Prompt 3- You might be the hottest elf I’ve ever met.” “You’ve met other elves?”

requested by @penwieldingdreamer

Warnings- Mentions of SMUT

One last, cautionary glance at the mirror to check her make-up was met with Y/n then reaching for a pair of striped, white and red, knee high socks that she’d left near the edge of her vanity. Guests would be arriving soon and if the clock mounted over the bedroom door was any indication, she was running late. It was the first holiday party they’d thrown as a couple, and as the time before it dwindled, Y/n couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that she was completely in over her head.

What the hell was a costume Christmas party? Why hadn’t they just gone with an ugly sweater party, or, heaven forbid, a regular party.

After hurriedly adjusting the hem of the socks at her knees, Y/n rose to her feet, headed to the walk-in closet though pausing upon noting that the Santa costume she’d laid out for her husband had been left unattended on the bed. He was supposed to be dressed already. Rolling her eyes and trying- and failing- to suppress her irritation, Y/n yelled; “Alex!”

An absent, albeit curious, “Yeah?” Erupted from all the way down the winding stairs.

“Can you get up here?” He had been reluctant to don the suit, but he had promised and all she wanted to do was make that party perfect. It would set the tone for every other party they threw in the future and Y/n did not want to make their first impression a bad one. “Please,” she added sweetly, lest he think she was irritated with him.

In the interim, Y/n continued towards the closet; slipping inside and then sifting through a few unpacked shopping bags until she’d found the pair of black, polished, boots with a couple inches worth of fluffy white trim at the top and a single red bow on the outer side of each one. The heels added about four inches to her small stature and there were shiny silver buckles over each ankle. With a huff, and not even bother to take a moment to sit on the otter-man in the center of the expansive closet, Y/n tugged the shoes one clumsily before swiping up the hat that would have finished off her ensemble from one of the other bags.

Finally, when she was the perfect image of one of Santa’s trusty helpers, Y/n emerged from the closet, only to find Alexander standing at the foot of the bed, hands sunken into the pockets of his faded blue jeans and white, cable knit sweater hugging his gorgeously lean frame. He was turned towards the bed, blond head cast down as he regarded the costume. “You’re supposed to wear it, not look at it,” she teased.

“I-” As he turned around, catching a look of her just as she moved off the threshold of the walk-in closet, he raised in brows. “Wow,” Alexander whistled lowly, appraising her outfit, “You look…wow.”

Y/n could feel her cheeks heat up, combating the traces of winter chill that managed to seep through the cracks of the tightly shut windows. Passing her hands over the green and red skirt of her costume, she grinned brightly, “You like it?”

“Like it?” Alexander scoffed humorously, peeling his hands out his pockets as he approached her. Licking his lips, he laid his hands on her waist, his palms to the cool faux leather of the belt that accessorized her costume, he grinned appreciatively, “You might be the hottest elf I’ve ever met.”

“You’ve met other elves?” Y/n shot back with a raised brow, her hands roaming his chest to her gaze challenging, “Is there something you’re not telling me?” She teased.

"Scratch that," he bent, capturing her lips in a sweet endearment, "Hottest and only elf I've ever met."

Standing on her toes as they kissed again, Y/n's hands deserted Alexander's broad chest; sliding up his strong shoulders to encircle his neck, "I thought so," she mumbled between slow, sensual pecks. His arms snaked around her waist, making a point of tugging her even closer, so the razor-thin space between them was muted and the top of her chest was pressed to the center of his.

“How much time do we have before people get here?” Alexander mumbled, his open mouthed ministrations traveling along her jaw and then down her neck.

An enthralled moan parted her crimson lips and Y/n stole a quick glance at the digital alarm clock on his side of the bed, before tilting her head to the side, granting him greater access while threading her small fingers through his short, blonde locks. “Not enough- Ah!” She hissed with Alexander nipped the soft skin her pulse, alternating between biting teasingly and sucking erotically, no doubt with the intention of leaving a very telling mark.

“We’ll make it enough,” he mumbled, and she could feel her resolve waning thin.

“But the party....." Y/n whined in protest, though still obliging when he hooked his hands around the back of her thighs, easily wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Fuck the party,” he mumbled, words cast into her soft warm skin as he buried his face in the exposed valley of her cleavage, words punctuated by little teasing nibbles and hot, fervent kisses, “Santa needs some time with his favorite elf.” And then, the last appropriate sound to part her lips was the delighted giggle that filled the room, just as Alexander unceremoniously dumped her onto the bed, wrinkling his unworn costume and making them very late to their own party.

[rebelsofshield]

Star Wars: Obi-Wan Kenobi “Part Two”-Review

Obi-Wan takes his first steps back into a larger world in an eventful and fun second episode.

With Leia’s kidnappers tracked to the gambling world of Daiyu, Obi-Wan must relearn his street smarts to avoid capture and complete his mission. However, with a bounty on his head and Reva’s trap ready to spring, this is easier said then done.

Almost immediately after arriving on the crowded streets of Daiyu, Obi-Wan Kenobi is confronted with a familiar voice. A clone veteran extends an empty helmet and asks for any credits that he might be able to spare. For a moment, Obi-Wan takes in the shock of seeing the face of man who is a reminder of a time gone by but also of a betrayal that shattered his entire world. He hands over what he can and continues on, but the point has been made. It is impossible for Obi-Wan to escape his past.

At its best moments, “Part Two” of Obi-Wan Kenobi is about forcing our title character to confront the many things he’s tried to hide from for years. Whether it be his dealings with galactic scum and villainy, Leia’s similarities to her mother, or the crushing reveal that Anakin Skywalker is indeed alive, Obi-Wan is hounded by his former life and its violent end at every turn. And again, Ewan McGregor is a standout. Sure, there’s glimpses of the action hero charm we all love, but McGregor really excels here in his nuanced close ups. The end of episode reveal of Vader’s survival is particularly crushing and Obi-Wan’s complex swirl of emotions is one of the most stirring acting performances that the franchise has seen in half a decade. While there are definitely some areas where Obi-Wan Kenobi is a little rough around the edges, it has so far excelled in finding the emotional core of its central character and that in of itself is an achievement.

The planet of Daimyu is a strong setting for the next steps in Obi-Wan’s journey. If Canto Bight was the glitz of Las Vegas, Daimyu feels like the dodgier parts of Atlantic City. There’s panache but it’s dirty and grimy and peppered with Aurebesh neon lights. This is also where Obi-Wan Kenobi starts to show its budget a little. While each individual room or location is gorgeously designed and produced with a Star Wars style meth spice lab being a standout, there always seems to be a bit of hollowness at the periphery. Daimyu always feels only as built out as the shot requires and there isn’t the organic stretch or scale that you get from most iconic Star Wars locations.

If the world itself may at times feel hollow, at least episodic writer Joby Harold populates it with so many colorful characters. We get all manner of creatively designed aliens and bounty hunters wandering through frame and even bit parts like a young spice dealer feel underscored with history. Kumail Najiani’s hustling Haja Estree is also a fun addition to the series cast. Nanjiani has a remarkable talent for playing reprehensible comedic characters with a surprising amount of empathy and vulnerability and that is certainly the case with Haja. A con man pretending to be a Jedi feels like the right sort of foil for Obi-Wan at this point and it also helps to establish that even now the idea of a Jedi hero has some social and moral currency.

The heart of Harold’s script sits in Obi-Wan’s relationship with Leia, which naturally has a rocky start. A justifiably traumatized Leia can’t help but be suspicious of this haggard old man that has wandered to her rescue and Obi-Wan, having spent so long alone and let’s face it never being the best with kids, is overwhelmed by the headstrong girl he has been recruited to save. And while Leia coming to trust Obi-Wan has a fairly straight forward trajectory, he has a more complicated arc. Its hard not to feel emotional when Obi-Wan sees the echoes of Leia’s parents in her snark and energy. Leia not only represents one of the many path’s for the galaxy’s future but one of the most tangible connections to some of the most important people in his life and the more this is teased out the more the old Obi-Wan starts to bubble to the surface. Sure, there was no doubt that he would reach out and save a tumbling Leia with the Force, but for a character who has remained so severed from the wider world and his duty for so long, it represents a moment of acceptance and strength for a man that may have lost his way.

And we close with the burnt eyes of Leia’s father. In case you somehow didn’t know, Darth Vader is in this series and he won’t be staying in that bacta tank for long.

Also, uh, is the Grand Inquisitor dead? What’s up with that? How many times has this guy died? I’m so intrigued. And confused.

Score: B+

[mae-gi-writes]

Take Me Back | Sunwoo (The Boyz)

Requested by anon! You broke up with Sunwoo because of long distance and he’s hated you ever since. When you meet up after three years, feelings resurface. 

Genre: angst, ex to lovers au, enemies to lovers kinda, fluffy ending.

A/N: JESUS i know I said that I don’t have time because I LITERALLY DON’T. So don’t ask me why all this inspiration comes to me when I can’t even sit down to write -- I write on the way to and from work, it’s so sad -- so yeah. I hope you enjoy <3 <3 

---------

Breaking up because of long distance was one of the biggest regrets of your life. The fact that you had to let him go because it was just getting too hard for your heart to cope was, in itself, heartbreaking. But you figured that it could get better, for the both of you, if you moved on with your lives without being tied at the hip with someone that was a continent away.

Except, the moment you had murmured your silent goodbyes, you had broken down into the most horrible, heartbreaking sobs that had ravaged your entire body. You cried and cried and cried, and wouldn't stop. The tears just wouldn't stop even when you told yourself that it was better this way, that he'd find someone better, stronger, it did nothing to ease the burning pain pulling your heartstrings apart.

One thing was for sure, Sunwoo's behaviour made things much easier. He'd grown distant first, curt and cold and isolating you, though you knew deep down it was a way to protect his own heart from the damage you'd inflicted on him.

But then he started ignoring your messages, spoke rudely whenever you did catch him on the phone. While you tried being understanding the first few times, you soon grew frustrated and annoyed that he'd act so childishly. The man you had once loved with all your heart had now been reduced to nothing but someone who kept digging holes into your heart.

You juggled the thought of asking him whether he hated your guts for what you did. You wouldn't judge him. On the contrary, you'd understand.

But you hadn't. Merely because the thought of losing him forever pained you.

Fast forward three years and here you were, sitting in a restaurant with a group of your high school friends, Sunwoo included. He'd nodded curtly at your appearance but did nothing more, causing your heart to squeeze in pain at the nostalgia kicking through your stomach.

"It's been years, Y/N. And you look the same," one of your good friends, Eric, jovially stated with a wink, already down by a few beers.

"Thanks Eric, I'll take that as a compliment."

"Don't go hitting on Sunwoo's ex with him right here," your classmate Raina said, "let's not end this dinner in a fight."

"I don't think Sunwoo minds," you mumbled loud enough for it to reach everyone's ears.

"You're right, I don't care," Sunwoo's voice -- still as deep, still as gorgeously beautiful and rough. An obvious contrast to the iciness of his words like pricks aimed at your heart.

You tried your best to brush off his comment, turning to Raina to ask her about any updates about her love life.

As the night wore on and people fell into deeper conversation, others left with excuses that they had spouses to return to, families waiting for them. Until there's only you and Eric in a corner, with Sunwoo at the bar, chatting up a gorgeous girl that looked like she had just walked out of a magazine spread.

"Still doesn't wanna talk huh?" Eric took a swig of his drink.

You shook your head, "he hates me, Eric."

"No he doesn't."

"Yes, he does.He can't even look at me in the eye without scowling."

"Bollocks. You just don't see it."

"What's there to see?" You scoffed, "if killing me was legal he would've done it ages ago."

Hesitating slightly, Eric takes another swig of his drink before replying, "look, I can't speak for him. But...you'll just have to talk to him yourself."

"Fuck no, I'm not doing that," you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Stubbornness never looked good on anyone."

You pulled out your tongue in response.

"Childish," Eric's eyebrow rose in amusement. Before you could defend yourself though, the said man turned to call out Sunwoo's name and you watched in growing horror as Sunwoo walked over to your table.

"Right," Eric jumped up from his seat as though it was on fire, "Sunwoo, keep her company. I'm off to see my girlfriend."

"What? No--" but Eric was already out of the door before Sunwoo's protests were heard, resulting in an awkward air hanging off your table the moment he turned, causing you to quickly drop your eyes to the beer you were nursing.

"You don't have to stay here," came your mumble.

You felt him shift in his seat before he said, "even if I am, I'm not doing this for you."

"I know," you shot back, gaze flitting up to clash with his mahogany orbs, ones that you remembered held so much love and tenderness before. They were now cold, dark with silent seething anger. You continued, "I know you're not. I never asked you to."

"Then stopping looking at me like that," he snapped, "you of all people should know how tough this is for me."

"Sunwoo, it's been three years--"

"Don't," he cut you off with a hiss, "talk about that."

Rage started to bubble in your stomach, "I don't understand whether you hate me, or whether you’ve just turned into this rude annoying person that nobody can stand.”

He seemed to have been slapped by your statement, stayed silent for a few minutes as he clasped his drink a little tighter.

Knowing Sunwoo, he was probably silently seething from what you'd just said. Your own fingers clenched around your beer, hating how easily he could upset you even after all these years.

When he spoke next, his alto was slightly softer, a little less harsh on you, "I don't hate you."

"Doesn't seem like it to me."

There was a pause in which you managed to recollect your emotions, the anger simmering down to cold remorse at how badly you had left things.

"I'm sorry," you murmured out, avoiding his eyes in case he saw the pain that consumed you, "I know it's not easy for you. It's not easy for me either."

"I don't hate you, Y/N," Sunwoo's alto was gentle this time, without any of the malice of the earlier hour, "I...It just hurts me, every time I see you I can't stop thinking of what we were before. I--" he shifted and you managed to lift your orbs up to his, only to see guilt swimming through his as he choked out, "I miss you."

Emotion tightened your chest. Tears rushed to your eyes, "I miss you too."

You stayed unmoving, your eyes saying everything that your words couldn't. The music boomed around you, filled the empty silence that would've swallowed you whole otherwise.

When you felt your ex-boyfriend move in your peripheral, you glanced at him, noticing for the first time the tired lines around his eyes. What looked like resignation was set on his face.

And then he was pushing his hair back, muttering a string of excuses about how he couldn't do this anymore before he walked right out of the bar, with you gaping at his retreating form.

"Sunwoo! Hey--" you scrambled up to chase after him, stumbling over your feet as you gripped your bag clumsily. Running out into the street to see him already steps ahead of you, you quickly jogged up to his frame, not taking into account the nervous fluttering through your chest.

"Hey, wait! Sunwoo!" You gripped onto his arm and pulled him back. He resisted.

You started blurting things out anyway, desperate to make things right, desperate to take away the pain he felt.

"Sunwoo I'm sorry," you stumbled on as he quickened his stride, "I never--I never meant to hurt you, I-- I thought that it was best for both of us at the time, I didn't--" your words were choked, laced with emotion, "I didn't know how hard it would be."

He stopped so abruptly you almost walked into his back.

His shoulders shook as he spoke, "when we broke up, I couldn't stop thinking. Did I do something wrong? Should I have done more?" He took a breath, "I wasn't living, Y/N. I barely ate. I kept seeing you everywhere I went. It was-- it was horrible," his alto broke at the last word.

You took a step closer. Tentative. Hesitant. Hands tightened into fists.

He continued, "and it never got better. I thought it would. That's what they all said. But three years have passed. Three years and I still feel like I lost the most precious fucking thing in my life and I can't live with myself because of that."

You couldn't feel your heart, which was tightening with pain and sympathy that mirrored his words. Memories of you crying into your pillow as you willed all of your love to disappear, memories of the dull ache stretching across your ribs because you had cried too much.

You opened your mouth, an apology on the tip of your tongue, when Sunwoo swivelled around so fast you barely blinked, his hands finding your shoulders in a tight grip.

"Y/N," His eyes were red and red-rimmed as they searched yours in growing desperation, "look Y/N, what I had-- what we had, I miss that. I miss us. Please, I--" swallowing thickly as his grip tightened on you, he continued, "you can do anything. Anything, Y/N. Break me. Use me. Do whatever the fuck you want but just-- just--" his chest heaved with a shaky inhale, a sob echoing from his throat, "just let me be yours again."

The silence that followed was deafening. You couldn't believe your ears. Your heart beat so loud you felt it vibrate against your ribcage.

His chest heaved, his breaths coming out short and static as he stared at you, waiting, hoping.

There were so many things, so many things you wished to say at this very moment, so many things that you had regretted the moment you had parted ways with this amazing man.

And now, to hear that he wanted you back, that he was still undoubtedly, irrevocably in love with you was enough to bring fresh tears to your eyes as another wave of pure hope crashed through your heart and flooding it with light. 

"Y/N," Sunwoo searched your eyes, "say something--"

You did. Jumped up to press your mouth against his.

He stumbled, hands finding purchase at your waist.

And when he kissed you back, all thoughts flew out of your head only to leave Sunwoo's taste engulfing your entire being like you had never stopped loving him from the first day you met.

It was pure, utter bliss. It was like finding the lost lover that had parted ways with you at sea. Sunwoo's mouth was hard on your own as he moved with the same grace, the same fluidity that left you breathless. His grip tightened, fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt to rest on your lower back as sparks ignited beneath your half-closed lids. Everything came crashing back; the memories, the happiness, the giddy excitement that erupted in the form of goosebumps and electrical sizzles over your limbs whenever Sunwoo kissed you.

It had never stopped. And at this very moment, you wondered briefly why you had forced him away when your heart was still irrevocably his.

One hand coming up to cup your jaw, he proceeded to tilt your head back to suckle onto your lower lip, the action causing a gasp to die in your throat while your hands tightened around his neck, pulling him even closer if that was possible.

Sunwoo's chest rumbled with a choked up moan, tongue darting out to meet yours halfway while a soft whimper echoed through your throat. You tried to match his movements, to kiss back as passionately as he was kissing you. But it was almost like Sunwoo was trying his best to make up for all the time you's spent apart, his mouth permanently pressed on yours and when you turned to catch your breath, he kissed your cheek, the corner of your eye, pulling you into him to imprint another kiss at the base of your neck.

You shuddered with emotion, body lighting up on fire and heat pooling through your stomach. Turning your head back until your noses brushed, your breath caught when your eyes locked, for Sunwoo's gaze was one of fierce, intense affection, as though you were something he'd sworn to protect his whole life.

"Don't," his gaze softened, thumb brushing your lower lip, "don’t ever leave me again, I--” his own lips trembled, "I don't know how...how I'll live with myself if you do."

You knew that words were going to be useless at this point, so you just nodded, biting down on your lower lip as he leaned in and dropped a kiss near your temple.

It was weird after so long, to have his body so close and his scent overwhelming your senses, a reminder of many long nights where you'd cuddled up to sleep on his chest. Just the memory made your lips tilt into a soft amile.

That grabbed his attention, "what are you thinking about?" He murmured.

"About you," your soft maroon clash with his intense dark chocolate, "about how stupid it was to have given up on us, because all this time apart feels like a waste. And I feel so stupid."

"It's not your fault Y/N," he smoothed a hand over the side of your head as his gaze softened, "there were so many things working against us. And maybe-- maybe it was right, at this time."

Your head tilted upwards to watch him. You felt his fingers, absentmindedly drumming against your lower back and igniting a line of sparks up your spine.

He continued, "I wouldn't have known, how important you were to me, how you filled up such a major part of my life--Oh shit. You're crying?" He was quick to catch your incoming tear with his thumb, panic flashing through his features, "Y/N? What is it? What did I say?” 

“Nothing, it’s nothing I just--I’m so sorry I broke up with you,” you blurted out as silent tears trailed down your cheeks. Shaking your head and looking up into his maroon orbs, you impulsively reached up to cup his face with your hands. Lucky, your subconscious chanted. You were lucky to have someone like him.

"Come here,” You didn’t protest when Sunwoo’s arms tugged you into his broad chest -- was it broader? You felt like it was-- before his head rested atop yours. Another softest of pecks was imprinted atop your forehead, then your nose, before he dipped his head for a chaste kiss upon your mouth. 

It felt like a promise. It felt like a message conveyed from him to you, that he wasn’t about to let go, prompted even more when he wound his arms around your frame in a firm, yet gentle hug. 

You pillowed your head against his chest, closed your eyes, and counted all your blessings. 

You were definitely counting Sunwoo as one. And you’d make sure that you wouldn’t be as foolish as to let go of him ever again. 

[angeli-marco-writes]

Tom Felton - Risk

A/N - Despite writing this 8 months ago, it hasn’t been uploaded anywhere. I forgot about it until a few days ago, redrafted it, and here we go. With the (not so) recent blow up of Draco-tok and Tom’s increased following, I thought it would be a good time to upload as well, and it has a summer feel to escape the disgracefully bitter winter here in Britain. I do not own the song lyrics used. I do not know Tom, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction and entirely my own. 

Warnings - cursing, legal alcohol consumption, mutual pining, 3.4k words of fluff and angst. Nothing further.

Summary - After your break up, one that pained you to the bone, you try to escape and you find yourself taking that one risk you always thought you should, travelling. A simple day out, and the one person you don’t want to see is the one person who can help you with your car troubles. Could he help with your heart troubles too, over a reminiscent dinner perhaps?

RISK, that’s what this is. You’re taking a risk for once in your life, living a new experience and stepping outside of your comfort zone. That's what you’re supposed to do to get over a particularly brutal break up, isn’t it? So here you are, finding yourself again, exploring places you’ve always wanted to go. Current destination: Cape Town, South Africa. A haven.

You came here on a whim. Looking up some cheap prices from when you were in Barcelona, and surprisingly, you got a good direct flight and hotel deal for more than a reasonable price. 

Before your break up, you’d never have dreamt of this. You were content with your life of luxury in LA with your boyfriend after dating for a while, but with his insane work schedule and travelling, you just couldn’t reasonably keep up with the relationship. You felt neglected, work and Willow always coming above you, and you couldn’t just be solely financially reliable on him, even if he was a millionaire. So after a long few days of gruelling arguments, you packed your bags and did what he told you to do.

“Live your life the way you couldn’t do with me holding you back.”

He was sorry, so sorry, heartbroken. I can still see his face when he let me go. Too darling to forget or stay mad at. You’ve just got to find the part of yourself that stayed with him, and maybe you’ll find it half way across the globe in between gorgeous beaches and scenic mountains while staying in a luxurious five star hotel.

Your days have been filled with hiking and swimming, spa days and sunbathing, fancy meals and getting drunk under the stars. But even though you’re living the dream, you haven’t quite found yourself yet. Maybe you will with your sightseeing plans for later on.

This afternoon, after you’ve spent the morning hiking, you’re ready for a calm afternoon back at your hotel, a leisurely swim in the pool to cool down and maybe some sunning on the adjoining beach.

You make your way back to the car you hired, a beat up jeep, but it’s a pleasure to drive around the mountains. But as you walk back there, you see someone. No, it can’t be him. It was just someone with the same hairstyle as him. Wearing the same shirt that he used to wear all the time. And wearing the same glasses. It has to be a coincidence, he can’t be here, it’s just your mind playing tricks. 

Part of you even wants him to be here, but the correct part of your brain knows that your longing thought us nothing more than wantonly cohorted, made up from missing him and being away from the last place you could call home. So without another thought, you open the door to the car and climb into the driver's seat. You’re suddenly conscious of the way you’re dressed: canvas shorts with a sun top and billowy button down, but even if it is more of a practical outfit, you still look damn good in it, so calm yourself down.

Starting the car is easier said than done, because as soon as you slot the key in and turn it, the engine vibrates for a few seconds and lets out a low grumble, and then it dies. Internally you curse yourself, and you hit the steering wheel a few times to release some steam. This was always Tom’s area of expertise, you never had to deal with car mechanics, but instead of making it a big deal, you give it a go again, only for the engine to crash again.

Footsteps sound outside the car on the gravel and sand, and then a head appears at your rolled down window, followed by a voice you never thought you’d hear again.

“Need some help, Miss?”

You turn your head so quickly that you feel something pull. No no no, he cannot be here on your get away trip. 

He smiles at you lopsidedly until realisation dawns on his face. In that moment, his cheeks fall and his red eyes droop. He is definitely high, but high tom is the best tom, all slow and cuddly.

“W-what are you doing here, Y/N?” he asks incredulously, his enunciated British tone raspy and soothing all at once, grounding you.

“Vacation. Um, you?” 

You fumble over your words, scrutinised under the piercing blue of his eyes behind his glasses.

“Filming.” he says.

Even after you split up, you’d never expected it to get this awkward if you ever met again. You’re definitely not over him yet, you can tell by the way butterflies flitter inside your stomach just at the sight of his day-old stubble and the tufts of sun kissed hair that poke out from his cap.

“That’s, um, nice,” you respond and offer him a shy smile, “Would you mind, um?”

He nods and moves around to the hood of the car. You watch as he turns his cap around and rolls up his sleeves, revealing his gorgeously tanned and toned forearms. You lose yourself and all inhibitions as he works to find out the problem, his seamless movements and his cute thinking face that crinkles his forehead and scrunches his nose. How he’s always so willing to help in any circumstance and the undying love that he revels in day after day, it’s like basking in eternal joy whenever you’re around Tom because not a single moment is dull. You can’t help but remember the way it felt when he kissed you, the fire that his touch left in its wake, the gentle way he held you through countless nights.

“Sorted, sweet pea.” he says, leaning against your car door with his head against the window frame. 

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “No one’s called me that since you.” 

The words are out before you can stop them, your sad smile unmoving from your face despite being filled with longing, and it just so happens to match his expression exactly.

“I have to film this afternoon, but how about I take you out for dinner? We can just, I don’t know, catch up? It can’t be a coincidence that we’ve bumped into each other.”

You don’t even have to think before the answer is spilling from your lips rather enthusiastically, a definite yes with a vigorous nod. He chuckles, slipping his hand through the window to clasp yours.

“I still have your number, so I’ll text you a time and place, yeah sweet pea? I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, “bye tom.”

You watch as he walks away before starting the car, your thoughts the whole way back to the hotel filled with nothing but Tom and thoughts for the night. Dinner with your ex really is a risk, but maybe, just maybe if he reciprocated your lingering feelings, it’ll pay off.

No matter how much you want to spend the afternoon carelessly swimming and enjoying yourself, taking in the views all around you and revelling in the South African sunlight, you simply can’t. Every moment you close your eyes, Tom’s smile illuminates your thoughts and fills your body with a prickling longing. It’s a bitter feeling that scares you, unnerving you and forcing you to lose all hope for the night ahead. Your phone buzzes on your way to the spa, thinking maybe a hot stone massage will clear your mind, but you quit when you see what he’s written. You haven’t deleted his number from your phone either.

PAPI ♡ : What hotel are you at? I’ll grab you for dinner at 7. Dress fancy, preferably in that nice black dress I love, but you look perfect in everything. T x

That black dress. The same one you haven’t worn since your last night out before the break up. Maybe you will wear it, maybe you won’t. You tap out a reply, signing with a smiley face and no kisses no matter how much you want to press that x like there’s a gravitational pull, but it just doesn’t feel right in the circumstances. 

PAPI ♡ : I’ll be there, sweet pea. T x

That might be Tom’s worst habit of them all. Constantly signing his texts with ‘T’ when you obviously know that it’s him. It used to gnaw at you, especially when he’d send particularly needy texts, multiple in a row, and sign them all the same way, but often, it was rather cute. He always was crap with technology. 

All the memories come flying back at a terrifying pace, the different texts calling to you from your phone, begging for you to relive the good old days. No, you can’t. You won’t give in to such an insane impulse. It’s bad enough that you agreed to go to dinner with your ex, you can’t let anything cloud your mind to make you more malleable for the night. So to resist temptation, you throw your belongings down on a sun lounger and grasp a cocktail over a nearby bar, downing it briefly before diving head first and breaking the surface of the water. Maybe a swim will distract you until you have to get ready.

Tom spent his whole afternoon messing up lines. Not for a minute could he focus. His lunchtime beer ended up being drunk faster than he’d wanted to, and he hardly ate a thing, for his stomach was filled with butterflies. Whenever anything was said in the script or on set that linked his mind back to you, he went hazy for a solid minute. Every time he’d try to pull himself together, and would fail, remembering how your hands felt when you tied his hair back or undressed him. 

Eventually, it was too much.

“CUT!” the director screamed an hour early. “Stop, just stop. Go home, sleep, come back tomorrow. We haven’t got a single decent shot in hours, Felton.”

Tom gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down beneath a feathering of stubble that had made its way down there. Faintly, he nodded and ran a trembling hand through his hair before pulling a cap on. He rolled his sleeves up briefly, wandered to his dressing room, and fell into a chair, his thoughts whirring around his head too fast for him to form a sensical sentence. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? So, he grabbed his belongings and ran to his car, driving to his hotel to play his sorrows away while awaiting your date.

Once coming in from the pool, you spend a few hours prepping yourself, primping and dressing for the date. You want to look good for Tom, but also for yourself. You always dressed up to feel good about yourself and it was just a bonus that Tom worshipped you, even more when he knew you’d made an extra effort. Curling your hair, dabbing on lipstick, even buckling the straps on your sandals fills your stomach with butterflies and gives you goose bumps all over your skin, already prickling with the blush you received from looking in the mirror. It’s time.

Your walk out to the front of the hotel feels foreign, your ankles wobbling in the heels you decided on, and even as the humid air hits you, you feel a little exposed and chilled. However, any anxiety dissipates when you see Tom walking towards you, a dopey and ever loving smirk on his sun kissed face, crisp chinos with loafers and a billowy button down, loose around the neck. The evening breeze blows the short sleeves up and gives you a peek at the curls of ink that hug his arm in the shape of a dog, the same as how you see the contrast on his ankle between the dark palm trees and his white skin.

You don’t realise you’ve been standing still and tearing apart his every exquisite feature until he’s an inch away from you and his fingers have slipped around your own, holding your hand loosely and keeping you close.

“Hi.” he says, his mouth pulling to a grin.

“Hi.” you return, pacing your fingers with his own more intricately to distract yourself from how crimson your cheeks are.

“Come on,” he picks up his pace back to where he’s parked, “I’ve got a surprise.”

He plays show tunes the whole journey, silly show tunes that put a smile on your face and ones you can’t help but sing along to. He keeps his calloused palm on your knee, brushing some hair behind your ears or sneaking a kiss on your cheeks whenever possible, but the journey isn’t long enough for anything major, nor long enough for you to take apart every piece of hospitality he’s offered you so far. It’s just dinner with an ex, right? Yeah, that is until he pulls up outside a five-star luxury restaurant, complete with a mini ballroom floor and a stage where stands a woman in an evening gown, warbling out in a different language.

“We’re around the back, I have connections.”

His smile is as luminous as the twinkling lights that he’s had arranged in the trees on the back terrace of the restaurant. One table sits with a bottle of wine balanced precariously atop, a single rose in a fluted vase, two wine glasses and sets of cutlery, and with the sun setting and the fairy lights, it’s perfectly ambient. You want to speak, but you can’t find the words. Maybe, if he pulled out all the stops this way, he feels the same as you do.

He pulls your chair out before sitting down himself, pours your glass of rose wine first, and even orders your favourite meal. The amount of times you’ve ordered that very same thing though, it must be ingrained in his mind. Neither of you say a word except for meek thank you’s, and tension fills the air, not ceasing until the waiter delivers a bread platter.

“Oh,” Tom says to the waiter, a little startled, “do you have any crackers? She doesn’t eat bread before meals, or, well, at all.”

The waiter nods and scurries away, but you’re left with a burning blush on your cheeks, anxiously tucking your hair behind your ears.

“You remembered,” you chuckle softly, feeling a little giddy even though its one of your more stupid habits.

“Of course I did, I remember everything about you.”

He reaches over the table and leaves his palm open. You give it a moment of thought before wrapping your fingers around his own, tracing the lines and sun spots. He’s so familiar yet so different, your time apart somehow meeting your shared experiences, the cons outweighing the pros, something causing a barrier.

You engage in small talk while you eat, simple conversations of how you’ve been and what you’ve been up to, only very few anecdotes shared from your past relationship. It feels so natural between the two of you, just the sight of his wispy dark blonde curls is still enough to make your heart flutter, but both of you are holding something back. Nothing changes until you’re half-way through your second bottle of wine, liquid courage making you buzz.

“Do you miss me?” you ask, holding nothing back, taking just one more risk before you close off the Tom chapter of your life for good. “Do you miss us? The way we were? Who we were with each other?”

He doesn’t say a word, only looks at you with heavy blue eyes, pleading.

“Do you miss the way I used to kiss you good morning? The way you’d kiss me goodnight? The good times we had, even the bad. Do you not miss me at all?”

He swallows thickly and takes a heavy swig of wine. He signals to a waiter who clears your dishes, and then he leans on his bare forearms over the table, both of his hands holding yours as he stares into your soul, those mystical ocean eyes boring into your pained soul.

“I miss it all,” he says in his hoarse tone, “I miss you and our life more than you can imagine. If it was up to me, I’d never have let you go, but I couldn’t keep you tied down. So before you leave forever, can we have one nice night and pretend like we aren’t completely fucking broken?”

You see tears in his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks at any given moment. You hold his hands tighter, letting your soft fingers dance up his arms, anything to feel the warmth of his skin against you once more.

“I wish I hadn’t left.” you whisper, Hoping that the sound is blown away with the wind, or disguised by the melodious singing from just inside the restaurant, but no. He hears your words as clear as day.

“Then don’t go. Don’t leave me again. Come back and we’ll make it better, I won’t work, we don’t need to, and you can live out all of your goals too. It’s high time that you come back where you belong, by my side. Don’t leave again, Sweet pea. Please.”

You’ve never heard him sound so desperate. He clings to you, kisses your hands, and when you’re too dumbfounded to respond, he gently pulls you up and brings you upright to a flat area of the terrace.

A sweet and familiar melody flows with the wind and the bird song, softly filling your ears from the restaurant, seeping into your own little circle with Tom. He cradles his forearm around your waist, his hand splayed on the small of your back. His other cups the palm of your hand gracefully as you rest your head on his cloth covered shoulder. He still smells the same, that same mix of smoke and beer and firewood as always, the musk of his aftershave lingering on the expanse of his neck, a faint sweat from the sun clinging to his freckles.

As soon as the lyrics start, you bury your head further into Tom’s neck, chest to chest, keeping him close.

‘Come on skinny love just last a year,

Pour a little salt we were never here,’

“Come home with me and let's pretend you never left.” Tom suggests, swaying in time with the music, your body moving in time with his even if you aren’t particularly responsive to what he’s saying. “It’ll be better now. We can make it better.”

You hum against his neck noncommittal, the vibrations sending warmth through his chest. His hands roam your body, the snug fitting of his favourite dress hugging your body all too familiar to him. It’s muscle memory to trace the contours of your body beneath the black poplin, the gaps of lace giving him a peek to your dappled skin, and the slightly lower neckline still driving him crazy. His chinos hold his legs and give the silhouette of his muscles, tensing as he dances meek waltz steps, his body naturally leading the way for yours to follow, his shirt blowing open more as you hold him closer. His warmth is what you need, his body, his heart, all of him.

“I want to come back, we’ll make it work,” you whisper, toppling between your heels in what somehow resembles a slow dance to the music still coursing through your veins and making you alive.

‘In the morning I'll be with you

But it will be a different kind

'Cause I'll be holding all the tickets

And you'll be owning all the fines’

“Let's take the risk, sweet pea.”

His voice is no more than a hoarse whisper, illuminating your mind in places that you forgot, his words making your heart flutter. This is it, you love him and you have to go back with him.

‘Come on skinny love…’

“Maybe, “ you start, “Just maybe, this isn’t skinny love anymore.”

Reaching up on your tiptoes and cupping the back of his neck, gently tugging the hair at the nape, you bring his lips down to yours, finally meeting in a kiss, one that’s been months coming. He brings his palms up to your cheeks, holding and caressing while your eyes are squeezed shut, focussing on the deepening massage of his lips against yours. It’s so welcoming, so warming, so homely. This was definitely a risk worth taking.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Close

Mando x Reader (F)

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fluff (18+ only, please and thank you!)

Mando’a Translations:

mesh’la = beautiful

sarad = flower

kair’ta= my desperate heart

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum = I love you

A/N: This is only my second one shot I have ever written and my first attempt at smut. This is also unedited. Hopefully you enjoy!

You often wondered if Mando knew the effect he had on the women around him, especially you. Underneath the stone cold stare of the beskar, was there a man completely aware of the way his presence made you quiver and your heartbeat quicken? Did he smirk taking in your flustered state and pride himself watching you fumble over your words?

He had to see the way eyes would follow him when he walked. His outward appearance demanded the attention of the whole room effortlessly. Everyone was on edge, eyes wide and whispers hushed wherever he went.

And you felt the stares. The jealousy and spite directed towards you as you followed closely behind. The glorious specimen of a man, covered head to toe in the beskar armor, always turned heads. The pure charisma and energy he radiated without showing any of his face was astounding. The small child traveled beside you in his floating pram. Oftentimes, your relationship to the Mandolorian was misinterpreted, making it the topic of conversation whenever someone approached the two of you.

You worked for him. Hired as a nanny on board the Razorcrest. That was the extent of the relationship as far as you were aware. Over the weeks of staying on the ship, perhaps he could now also call you a friend, but you doubted you’d ever be more.

About a month after you had joined the very small crew (your presence actually making it a crew) he heard you from your bunk in the middle of the night. He had been woken up by a nightmare, and was heading to the ‘fresher when he heard the muffled moans from the other side of the door to your bunk.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t done the same most nights. Despite the way the armor portrayed him, the man was severely touch starved and also quite the hopeless romantic. He’d never had someone whom he co-existed with on this level and everyday the two of you grew closer and closer. He loved to watch you, hidden under the protection of the helmet, take care of the child. It was something he longed for, both of you to be his- his clan, his family. The idea was his long harbored dream to have people who he could share his life with and care for.

However, he feared the aspects of what attracted you to him were not actually him. He feared you were attracted and wanted the Mandolorian and Din Djarin would pale in comparison to the bounty hunter in the beskar. You’d never seen him without any of his armor, except maybe no gloves sometimes in passing. In comparison to the man he knew he presented outwardly, there was no way he thought what lied underneath would be enough.

But there he stood, frozen in place at the sounds coming from your bunk. The door was sealed shut, but he stood there regardless- his eyes staring intently at the door like he’d somehow be able to see through. The sounds were muffled by the doorway but he could still hear faintly the moans and curses leaving your lips. He felt his pants tighten and he strained to hold back a moan himself when his name escaped your lips. He wished it was his own, but the nickname was enough to drive him crazy.

When he snapped out of his trance, he realized he had been standing there for far too long. He became aware at how hard he was, and it was almost painful. He let out a soft, wanting groan, and headed back to his own bunk finishing himself off alone that night like usual.

The next week, you noticed how Mando was keeping his distance. Usually, the silences were never awkward like they once were. You both had reached the point of being able to share a silence. The comfortable quiet of the night on the razorcrest are now gone again. The rigidness of his demeanor followed him back home when he usually reserved that for the outside world. The only time now he seemed to be at ease was when he was handling the kid. The paternal love was unwavering. However, as soon as you were in the vicinity, his demeanor changed again.

That went on for about a week before you mustered up the courage to confront him. The child was asleep in his orb and you watched as Mando closed the lid.

“Did I do something?” You ask hesitantly, wrapping your arms around yourself. You heard him let out a sigh, distorted slightly by the modulator.

“No.” He walked by you and avoided further conversation by climbing up the ladder.

You waited a moment, just staring at the ladder, a little dumbfounded. It wasn’t like he was a man of many words but he at least could’ve been a little more compassionate. Over the weeks you’d spent on the ship, you knew he wasn’t acting like himself. He was keeping on the front he kept up outside the ship. You couldn’t figure out why.

“Can you please talk to me?” You asked, climbing up the ladder. The door in front of you opened and you took you seat in the copilots chair. He abruptly stopped everything and turned to face you immediately.

“What?” He asked shortly, the modulator making it sound especially more intimidating. His legs spread apart and he rested his elbows on his thighs, clasping his gloved hands together. If it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

“I-I,” you began, getting flustered and suddenly unable to confront him in the put together state you had wanted. “I noticed you’re acting differently... and I just- I just want to fix whatever I did wrong so we... we can go back to normal.”

Although you couldn’t see his eyes, his gaze felt incredibly heavy. He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, his thighs spreading a little more. The helmet tilted to the side slightly, looking like he was trying to figure out what to say or do to you.

“I don’t think we can go back to normal,” he responds finally. You can’t hear that he’s messing with you. You’re convinced he’s going to drop you off at the next planet. Oh gods what did you do? You must’ve look horrified because you hear a low chuckle coming from the Mandolorian.

“Maybe we could,” he said standing up. He walked slowly over to you. He placed his hands on the armrests, his body towering over yours. “But I don’t know about you, mesh’la, but I definitely do not want that.”

“Y-you don’t?” You asked tentatively. You felt so small. Despite the visor you could just feel him staring right through you like you were as thin as paper. His gaze was burning a hole right through you.

“I don’t” he said, his amusement evident in his voice. “And I don’t think you want that either.”

“Oh..?” You questioned, a little shocked. You couldn’t think straight. You were sure he could see your legs shake at your nervousness. He was so close. And the way he was towering over you made your knees weak.

“I heard you, mesh’la,” he whispers huskily. “Please... tell me if this is okay...” His gloves fingers moving from where they gripped the armrest to ghost up your arm until the palm of his hand settled to cup your cheek. “Do you want this too?”

“Yes,” you breathed shakily. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were scared to move, like you’d wake yourself up and you’d find yourself alone in your bunk. “Mando- gods yes.”

“You’re so perfect, mesh’la,” he mumbles, his hands sliding down your body. You feel goosebumps rise on your skin following his touch. “Always so good to me.”

In a swift motion, he suddenly grips your waist and he effortlessly pulls you up so you are on his shoulder. You were shocked at how easily he was able to accomplish this. His large hand gripped the back of your thighs and somehow carried you down the ladder to his bunk fairly seamlessly.

When the door to his bunk slid closed, the room became pitch black as he carefully placed you on his bunk. You couldn’t see anything in the darkness. But you heard the rustlings of Mando taking off the beskar armor and the clicks of releasing his helmet.

You felt the mattress dip and his larger frame climb over you. His hands held him up and you felt the tickle of a mustache and stubble as his soft lips peppered kisses up your neck and jaw.

Your hands instinctively reached to run through his hair. You couldn’t specify a color of course but you could feel his gorgeously messy curls.

“So long I’ve wanted you just like this,” Mando groaned in your ear. It was the first time hearing his voice without the hindrance of the helmet. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt and you helped him strip you of it before attaching his lips to yours.

You felt him smiling against your lips and the feeling of his hands wandering your body was enough to drive you crazy. His hands were large and soft, but still you could feel a few callouses on the palms. He basked in the feeling of your skin against his.

Breaking away from the kiss, he pulled off his remaining clothes and you did the same, both of you just desperately trying to have as much skin touching as physically possible. Mando loved the feeling of your skin and he showed you by using his hands to touch every part of you.

Just the feeling of his hands drove you crazy. It was intoxicating just like the rest of the man hovering above you. Your fingers grazed his back and left small scratches, the sensation making him moan softly against your lips. One hand slipped down to your thighs and instinctively you spread your legs for him.

“Good girl,” he mumbled against your neck, his breath hot. You let out a moan as a response and then a gasp when his fingers found your clit. “You’re so wet for me mesh’la.”

“Mando- please,” you manage to breathe, your head falling back into his pillow as he rubs your clit teasingly slow. “I need you.”

He leans down and leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to your chest. He begins to suck tantalizingly on your hardened nipple and then places two fingers inside you. You moan out his name in pure ecstasy when he begins pumping them in and out, switching his lips to suck on your other breast.

His fingers were magic. The way they moved so effortlessly to your body just felt perfect. Like he had touched you a million times and knew just how to treat it. It was amazing. “I-I’m close..,” you managed to moan out and he pulled away at your words. The detachment made you groan, at the sudden feeling.

He connected his lips to yours in a passionate kiss as he slid his hardened cock into you. “F-fuck,” he moans against your lips, “you’re so tight, mesh’la. It feels so right.”

You wrap your leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Your hands wrap around his neck pulling him into another passionate kiss. You savor every moan he makes and your own moans fill the small space as he moves in and out of you.

The moment is so full of love and intimacy. He’s treating you with such care and unwavering affection. This isn’t like your fantasy, but this to you was so much better. The moments you fantasized about were based on the armor, not the man underneath. The armor was all you knew, but now in his own way, he’s baring himself to you as much as he could in the way he knew how. He loved you and if he couldn’t say all that he wanted to say, he would show you.

“Mando,” you moaned as his lips trailed down from yours to kiss and bite your neck. “You feel incredible.”

“You’re so tight, sarad,” he moans, his breath hot against your ear. “Oh kair’ta..”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” you whisper, your Mando’a broken and you weren’t sure you were even pronouncing it right.

“Fuck,” he groaned at your words. The sound of his language on your lips affecting him in such a way. He could listen to you speak that way forever. “I love you too,” he moans, “I love you so much.”

As you feel your getting close to your release, you feel his strides become more sloppy and you know he’s close too. Your head sinks into the pillow and your back arches at the sensation.

“I-I’m close,” you manage to say amongst the other noises you release.

“Cum for me, mesh’la,” he states feeling his own orgasm fast approaching. He grips your hips tightly, and continues his thrusts, the feeling of you tightening around him, sending him over the edge. “Fuck,” he gasps, as he reaches his orgasm. The feeling of him as overwhelming as the sensation triggers your own release.

When you are both finish, he pulls out of you and you sigh at the lack of contact. He lays down and pulls you into his chest, holding you closely. You can feel his heartbeat and his heavy breathing. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, wanting to be just as close to him.

“Can this be our new normal?” You ask softly, and you feel his chest rumble as he laughs gently.

“I want you like this everyday for the rest of my life,” he confesses, his hands comfortingly rubbing your back. The two of you just enjoy the moments of peace in your new found bliss before getting up to clean yourselves.

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing your forehead tenderly.

With you in his arms, his son sleeping soundly in another part of his ship, he realized his dream was unfolding for him in these moments of quiet you both shared together in darkness. He’d one day show you his face, and share his real name- and give you everything you could ever want. He intends to marry you, and give you a better life than the one you currently share on the crest. As he lays there, with you in his arms, he finds so much comfort in the feeling- knowing it’s something he can allow himself to get used to.