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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

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DIN DJARIN WEEKLY FIC REC #1

This week’s fic rec (January 24th to January 30th) is here! Below the cut, you can find a wide selection of Din Djarin fics to read, whether they’re multi-part, one-shots, drabbles, prompts, or headcanons. I challenge you to provide these writers with feedback if you choose to read their fic!

You can start submitting next week’s fic rec here.

MULTI-PART FICS

Space Cowboy by @punkrock-writer

summary: A Girl is teleported from her hotel room, and dropped onto the floor of the Razor Crest. Chaos ensues as she tries to convince The Mandalorian not to freeze her in carbonite, and do her best to find her place in the endless Void of space.

pairing: Din Djarin x F!oc

warnings/rating: Mature. Canon typical violence. Lots of swearing.

genres: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

submitter comments: Hi this is my first fic, you can find it on AO3 also. I’d really appreciate some feedback or any ideas because I have a hard time figuring out if I’m doing the right thing😂 Thank you for doing this.

Touch by @magicrowiswritingstuff

summary: It seems so unfair that he is able to touch you and send shivers down your spine when you’re not.

pairing: Din Djarin x female!reader

warnings/rating: A bit of violence and injury/blood

genre: fluff

submitter comments: Just wanna say that I really love this idea and am excited to browse through all the recommended stories on Sunday! <3

Ciryc Ca’tra (Cold Night Sky) by @javi-djarins (Ao3: brianmay_be)

summary: When you crash-land on a frozen planet on your way to Trask to find the Frog Lady’s husband and more Mandalorians, you and Din work together to keep the Crest afloat and keep your little family safe.

pairing: Din Djarin x wife!reader

warnings/rating: G

genres: fluff, hurt/comfort

submitter comments: She may be adding an epilogue that contains some smut, but right now all of the chapters are rated G!

Blossom by @dinthisisthe-wayson

summary: Alone. You felt like you had no purpose in such a powerful galaxy, being the bystander is what you felt was the only thing you were good at. But when a warrior with a child extend a helping hand. You take it. Not knowing that you will no longer be alone for the rest of your time in the universe. Not knowing that your place in the galaxy will be much bigger than you expected. And just like any flower, you will blossom. In more ways than one.

pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

warnings/rating: Teen and Up, violence and language

genres: angst, fluff

submitter comments: N/A

Narudar by @zapsalis-d

summary: You, an experienced bounty hunter working for the Bounty Hunter’s Guild, have found it difficult to sustain yourself lately, requiring more and more credits after each hunt to be able to buy your basic needs. Yet with so many members of the Guild, high rewards were tough to find. Until you’re given a bounty with the prize being something extremely valuable – beskar. During your hunt, you bump into an old enemy you were just so tired of fighting. On your attempt to finally get rid of him once and for all, he found out a secret you wished he hadn’t and now you don’t have any other choice than to team up with him, whether you like it or not. The both of you thought it would be simple. Deliver the quarry, split the reward between the two, and hopefully never see each other again. Oh, how you were wrong.

pairing: Din djarin x female reader

warnings/rating: Rated t for now (but im not sure if that writer will change that in the future or not)

genres: angst, fluff

submitter comments: N/A

Connection by @beskarhearts

summary: Din Djarin and you were very similar. You both were closed off from everybody and had on masks of your own. But, when the universe brings you and Din together, you form a connection you didn’t know you two could have.

pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

warnings/rating: Cursing, family members passing away (think that’s about it so far)

genres: angst, fluff

submitter comments: N/A

Homeward Bound by TheStarvingWriter (Ao3)

summary: After Luke Skywalker takes Grogu, Din Djarin is adrift. He attempts to find solace in his old ways of bounty hunting, but he feels like an imposter—a shell of his former self, roaming around in a suit of beskar that no longer feels like his own. When a visit to Coruscant leads him to a Seer who tells him that Grogu is in danger, however, everything changes. Now, it’s a race to find his kid and return him home, before he truly loses him forever.

pairing: Din Djarin and Grogu (father/son)

warnings/rating: Teen and Up Audiences

genres: angst, hurt/comfort

submitter comments: The writing of this is phenomenal. The way they write Din is fantastic and the angst is insane. There will be eventual reunion and each chapter leaves you wanting more. 158288483/10 recommended!!!

the light of stars by @tiffdawg

summary: In pursuit of the Child’s people, the mysterious Jedi, Din Djarin and his foundling find hope in a woman who shares the kid’s strange powers. Newly partnered with the Mandalorian, you are trained in the ways of the Force, but you’re no Jedi. You’re just trying to find your place in the galaxy.

pairing: din djarin x reader

warnings/rating: hurt/comfort, sexism, mild injury, mild language, angst, kissing

genres: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

submitter comments: N/A

ONE-SHOTS

Only for You by @firstofficerwiggles

summary: You like to sing and it ends up bringing you closer to the Mandalorian. Events take place sometime between Seasons 1 and 2. It’s pretty much fluff with a teeny bit of story. Still has plot though :)

pairing: Mandalorian x female reader

warnings/rating: Rated: G, Warnings: None

genre: fluff

submitter comments: I hope you like it!

Getting Through This by Whumptastic (Ao3)

summary: Din has a hard time dealing with Grogu’s leaving, and like a true friend Cara offers support.

pairing: Din and Cara but only as best friends

warnings/rating: none really, lots of crying/sad vibes tho

genre: hurt/comfort

submitter comments: N/A

Fifty Four by @themand0lorian

summary: Reader gets a drunken holo from Din, based on Pedro Pascal's 24 hour play monologue (linked in fic)

pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader (no Y/N)

warnings/rating: E

genres: angst, fluff

submitter comments: N/A

Reassurance by @galaxysgal (Ao3: imjusttheoutgoingsidekick)

summary: You worry about Din and his recklessness during and after the events of Morak and the two of you have a small chat about it.

pairing: din djarin x gn!reader

warnings/rating: PG, major spoilers for The Mandalorian Chapter 15, canon typical violence, near death experience (for Din), some swear words (both sw swears and regular english ones lol)

genres: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

submitter comments: since it's up on tumblr and ao3 i wasnt sure which link/acc name to give so I just gave both :)

ni kar’tayli gar darasuum by @pumpkin-stars

summary: Din was friends with another foundling as a child, they never saw each other’s faces, both shrouded in beskar from everyone. But feelings form from actions and words, not sight. AKA Din gets married to someone equally touchstarved.

pairing: Din/Reader (no pronouns)

warnings/rating: safe for everyone - warnings for (happy) crying, and it's my first attempt at a star wars fic so the finer details might be a bit dodgy

genre: fluff

submitter comments: i love your fics! i'm still new to the fandom but you seem so sweet and this is a really good idea/thing that you're doing! xx

The Vexatious Nine by Balsamique (Ao3)

summary: While searching for more of his kind on the desolate planet of Karth, a blizzard traps the Mandalorian, the child and seven lodgers in an isolated stopover. When one of the lodgers is mysteriously murdered, it’s up to the Mandalorian to catch the killer before they can claim their next victim. But as the storm thickens, so does the mystery — and this isn’t a problem he can shoot his way out of.

pairing: N/A

warnings/rating: General Audiences

genres: Action/Adventure, Murder Mystery

submitter comments: Author's name on Ao3 is Balsamique. On Tumblr it's first-order-media-department.

what happened to you? by @lesbisoka

summary: After the events of Episode 8 (S1), Din returns to Sorgan to recover. Omera finds him in a less than ideal state.

pairing: din djarin x omera

warnings/rating: General Audiences, no archive warnings apply

genre: hurt/comfort

submitter comments: N/A

Sprained by @kesskirata

summary: Rebel spy reader is injured and can’t make her meet up with The Mandalorian

pairing: The Mandalorian x reader

warnings/rating: none

genres: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

submitter comments: N/A

Over the Moon by gobuyastarwars (Ao3)

summary: Din and Grogu travel with Boba Fett and Fennec Shand for a time. The Mandalorian, Boba, Fennec, and Grogu stop to refuel and find an unpromising tourist attraction nearby– an amusement park. Din doesn't want to go into the amusement park, but Boba and Grogu do.

pairing: Din and Grogu

warnings/rating: Gen, no warnings

genre: fluff

submitter comments: N/A

You can start submitting next week’s fic rec here.

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x oc #the mandalorian x oc #fic rec #din djarin weekly fic rec

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obwjam · 3 years

Note

would you be able to do a Mandalorian/Pedro Pascal x borrower??

I guess the plot would be where grogu finds the borrower, the borrower is like terrified to death and then mando finds them, and like he has to do something that’ll make them trust him or something?

btw i’ve been reading your stories and prompts like for two hours straight and i just wanna say that i would stay up all night reading your works instead of doing anything else i love them so much 🥺❤️

also, it’s totally okay if you don’t want to, or have a reason not to, i have no idea if you’re still doing requests and stuff or anything. thank you so much though!

ugh oh my gosh thank you thank you!!!! i love to be a sponsor of procrastination. keep up the good work. i truly love the idea of grogu just unknowingly terrorizing a tiny and i’m way overdue to write some mando g/t so let’s go!!!

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Din Djarin found you running for your life, nearly tripping over yourself and screaming so loud that he was sure the entire planet could hear. He was confused at first -- he had never seen a borrower before, and it took him a moment to register what exactly was going on.

What were you running from exactly? Well, you didn’t know what it was, but it had giant ears, tiny arms, outstretched hands and could waddle as fast as you could run. You recognized the look in its eyes, too. One word: food.

“GROGU! NO!”

At the sound of another voice, you whipped your head up and subsequently tripped over a rock. You slammed into the ground, gathering yourself for a moment before flipping yourself over and gasping at the sight.

At this point, you kind of wish that fall had killed you. The only thing worse than a bloodthirsty creature trying to eat you was the human who owned it. And, god, you couldn’t even tell where this human started and where he ended. He was covered head-to-toe in shiny metal armor, complete with a dark helmet and some gnarly looking weapons. He looked like a giant-and-a-half. You were done for.

Din cocked his head, tapping the side of his helmet to do a quick scan of you. The scan didn’t tell him much, but it showed him you were four inches tall and scared out of your wits. He frowned at how badly you were shaking.

He held Grogu out in front of him and tilted his head down. “No. No. You can’t be doing that. You hear me? Don’t do that again. No.”

Grogu stared back blankly with a smile and a patoo. Din rolled his eyes and plopped him into his pod before turning his full attention to you. He was surprised that you hadn’t tried to run away, but truth be told, you were frozen in fear. When a human was involved, there was nowhere to run.

Slowly, Din crouched down, trying to a closer look without looming too much. It was impossible to do that, but he was trying. A pang of guilt shot through his stomach as he peered down at you, cowering and starting to cry. Oh boy.

“Hey, hey...” he started, holding his hands up to show he wasn’t going to do anything. At the movement of his hands, you flinched and moved your arms up to cover your face.

Din hummed. “No, no. See?” He waved his hands a little. “No weapons. Nothing.”

You gave this curious giant the side-eye. He was clearly a warrior, or a bounty hunter of some kind. Why was he trying to be peaceful?

“What are you doing out here, little guy?” he tried, the helmet masking the true sound of his voice. “There’s a lot of imps around here. It’s not safe.”

You raised an eyebrow, confused as to what imps were, but all of your words were stuck in your chest. You couldn’t tell where this giant was looking or what he was thinking. Not to mention he was absolutely huge. Those boots could crush you in an instant.

“Hmm.” Din spent most of his days talking to a baby who couldn’t speak basic, so this should not have been as big of a challenge as it was. But you were clearly terrified out of your mind with the way your gaze was locked forward and how badly you were trembling. You looked like you were about to vomit.

“Uh, do you... do you have a name?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Din was about to try another question when the sound of blaster fire filled the air. You both looked toward the source of the sound, and Din quickly whipped his head back to you.

“You need to get out of here. There are some really angry guys coming this way.”

As soon as the giant shifted his position, you assumed the worst. “No!” you cried. “No, pl-please. I... I don’t... please... this--this is my home...”

Din’s eyes went wide as you lost it right in front of him. He could certainly understand your apprehension, but he clearly wasn’t going to hurt you. The Imperials would.

“I know you’re scared, kiddo, but when those Imperials find you, they won’t be as kind to you as I am.” You could barely comprehend what he was trying to tell you. You were far too petrified. Din looked at you, back over his shoulder, and back to you. Those imperials would be here any minute. There was no way you weren’t going to get squashed. He only had one thing left he could do.

“AH!” you shrieked as soon as the gloved hand entered your vision, but it was useless to try to run. Giant digits wrapped around your body, and you clung onto the folds of his glove for dear life as he lifted you into the air at a speed that was far too fast for your liking. Stars popped in and out of your vision as you kicked and punched and yelled in protest.

Din grimaced, barely able to feel the impact of your struggles. You were clearly overpowered, but more clearly terrified.

“This is for your own good,” he mumbled, hoping you would hear him as he plopped you down into a brown satchel that was draped over his shoulder.

Inside the bag, you were clawing for a way out. Screams of LET ME GO! went unheard as the giant started to move. Din was trying his hardest not to jostle you too much, but that was a tall task considering he was fleeing from a legion of stormtroopers who were after the kid.

There were a lot of grunts, screams and blaster bolts, but soon, all was quiet again. You had since shut your eyes and gripped tightly to the walls of the bag to stay stable and ignore the chaos, but it didn’t take long after the violence died down that you realized the giant was still walking somewhere.

“Hey. HEY!” you yelled. Din was ignoring you. There were surely more troopers hot on his tail, so he had to get to the Razor Crest and fast. He pushed Grogu up onto the ship and opened the roof to his pod before hurriedly climbing up the ladder to the cockpit. The deafening sound of the ship powering up made your stomach drop, but it all turned to a soft hum once Din made the jump to hyperspace.

Light flooded your vision, and you grimaced as that damned hand came reaching for you again. Again, protesting it would be foolish, so you just closed your eyes to fend off the headache that was sure to come when he lifted you too fast.

Din made sure to go slower this time, and when he held you out in his open palm, he finally got a sense of how small you really were. His fingers were slightly taller than you, and with your knees pulled to your chest, you were more the size of that stupid metal ball Grogu liked to play with. Maybe that’s why he went after you.

“I’m... sorry about that,” Din started, trying to sound earnest. “You were in danger. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

You finally opened your eyes. The view in front of you took your breath away. The sky was swirling blue all around you, but you quickly realized that wasn’t the sky at all. It was space. Hyperspace.

Din huffed a laugh. “First time in space?”

You nodded robotically, forgetting for a moment you were sitting in the palm of a giant. “First time... anywhere.”

Din smirked. He supposed that made sense, but it didn’t make it any less shocking -- or adorable -- to him.

“I’m sorry about Grogu,” he said, as if you were supposed to know who he was talking about. You cocked your head at him. “Grogu. The little green guy that... tried to eat you.”

“Oh.” You shuddered at the memory. “It--it’s okay, I guess.”

A pause.

“I can bring you back to your planet, if you’d like. It wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

You considered this, but something was holding you back. “What... who were those guys? What did they want?”

Din sighed. “Imperials. They were looking for me, but they were also occupying any and all territory they could. I hate to say it, kid, but even if I brought you back, I don’t think your home would be much of a home anymore.”

“It was never that much of a home anyway,” you grumbled. You were surprised that you could tell Din was waiting for you to continue. “I mean, it’s just. That green guy was not the first thing to try and eat me.”

“Oh.” Din didn’t know what to say.

“It’s fine. That’s just... how it is.” A beat of silence. “Are you... are you going to sell me?”

“Sell you?” Din was confused. “Why would I sell you?”

“I--I thought -- that’s what humans do, isn’t it? Especially ones like you.”

Din frowned. That was not something he had thought of. “No. I’m not going to sell you.”

“...so what are you gonna do with me?”

“I...” Din faltered. What was he going to do? He was so focused on getting you to safety that he didn’t calculate the long-term implications. Through his helmet, he stared at you, your eyes shaking and pleading with him for mercy. You looked so small compared to the space around you. So vulnerable. Din felt this pull toward you; that protective instinct that caused him to change his life for Grogu. At least the kid could defend himself. You couldn’t.

“You can stay here, with me,” Din offered. “Until we can find you a place to live. How’s that sound?”

“Really?” This giant didn’t seem like the hospitable type, but he just shrugged.

“You’ll be safe here,” he assured. “I promise.”

“What about... Groku?”

“Grogu,” he smiled. “I’ll make sure he keeps his distance.”

You could barely believe this was happening. You were nearly eaten, discovered by a human, kidnapped and killed; now, he was not only offering you shelter, but something you’ve never had in your entire life: protection. Even if it was a trap, what did it matter? What would be his motivation for lying? If he was offering you a place to be safe... how could you possibly turn it down? He didn’t have to try and save you from the Imperials, but he did. Maybe he was being sincere.

You tried to hide your smile, but failed. “Y-yeah. I guess I’ll stay here. I’ll... try not to get in your way.”

“...don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Din said. He gently moved his hand to the console in front of him and placed it down, allowing you to jump off. Din marveled at how some of the controls practically towered over you. “Is this okay?”

Once you got your bearings, you slowly turned around and fully took in the beauty of what was in front of you. It took up your entire vision like the most amazing spectacle in the galaxy. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t experienced this before.

“Yeah,” you said, turning back to Din, who failed to suppress a smile of his own. “This is perfect.”

#mark this as one of the prompts that's been in my inbox for literal weeks now #slowly but surely catching up #and trying my best to get back into a groove #in this house we support din djarin unconditionally #thank u for this suggestion!#star wars g/t #g/t #obwrites

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100layersofdaddyissues · 4 years

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brownies

i know i said i would be bringing out angel part 3 but i hit a block and became inspired so i wrote a little drabble about baking with Pedro.

@innerstrawberrypolice this ones for you bebita

pedro x reader domestic

warning: age gap (legal) mild swearing and minor discussion about animosity between parents. also 2020. 2020 needs a warning.

Being with Pedro in quarantine seemed like a blessing at first, I mean, it was your boyfriend Pedro. You didn’t really consider when you agreed to it, that neither of you could or liked cooking, you’d been ordering in everyday for months with the occasional ramen noodles or pancakes. But in the middle of June, you truly missed baking.

“my darling how would you feel about risking our lives at Walmart for ingredients to bake brownies?” you said in the sweetest tone hoping that he would be willing.

“baby we have ingredients for brownies here!” he yelled from the other room, you knew he didn’t want to leave the house, especially for something so trivial.

“actually, we don’t, we don’t even have eggs, come on we need to go grocery shopping.”

“its 9:30 at night we don’t need to go grocery shopping right now.” Walking back into the kitchen as he replied.

“fine ill go by myself, you wait here, I don’t want you getting sick, your old man heart couldn’t handle it.” You quipped hoping some banter would alight enough fire in him to take you to the store.

There was no secret that there was an age gap between you and Pedro, it wasn’t a crazy one. Okay yes it was mildly crazy, but it was legal, and you were happy together, to hell with what other people said, your parents included. His friends and family had been so welcoming and accepting that your mother calling you a gold-digging whore didn’t even seem to faze either of you.

As you started walking away towards the front door Pedro grabbed you by the waist and spun you to face him, “listen, mi amor, I am not old, I am wise a silver fox.” He said looking down on you with a smirk, he moved his head to your neck trailing kisses up towards your jaw. As you tilted your head back you remarked, “ahh by you see my love, you being a silver fox comes with the added necessity of you being old, you cant be silver if you’re not old.” He pulled away from you to look down at you and say, “alright fine would you like to go get brownie ingredients or would you like to keep teasing me about my age, and my I remind you that you’re the one fucking this old man.”

“brownies please,” once again melding into your sweet innocent voice, “but we really do need to get groceries. Maybe I can tease you in the car?”

“don’t be a smart ass we’ll get groceries tomorrow now go get your mask.” God, I hate 2020.

The drive to the store was filled with, as promised, more teasing from you, and more dirty remarks from Pedro about ‘well I can’t be that old, my dick still works” to which you replied something along the lines of “pull over and we’ll test that out.” Which then in turn made Pedro choke on air and nearly hit another car. Maybe road head wasn’t a good idea.

As you jumped out of the car seat you all but pranced to the store entrance waiting there for Pedro to catch up. When he finally did, he took your hand leading you through the door, once inside though you were the one pulling him, directly to the baking goods isle.

“okay so we need flour, eggs, sugar, powdered sugar, butter chocolate chips, sunflower oil and Dutch cocoa.” You prattled off the list of ingredients you needed to make brownies, “ooh and milk!”

Pedro leaned in close to your ear and whispered in a hush and gruff voice “or, we could get box mix and then get home sooner so I could show you how young I am.” And understanding what he was implying, you ran the boxed batters, grabbed the first one you saw and ran back to him. “okay got it lets go. Now.”

You realised halfway to the registers that you needed more than just the box to bake brownie, and so what was supposed to be just eggs and butter and milk, turned into a basket full of things you just had to have right that second or you would die, as Pedro put it.

Finally arriving home, you unpacked and placed everything where they needed to be and finally you were ready to start baking.

“okay, now I must warn you that if you get in my way and don’t listen to my instructions you will not be licking the batter, from the bowl, no do not look at me like that mister you won’t be licking it off my body either. (spoiler alert yes, he will be.) “alright carina lets get baking, come on.”

You really didn’t expect the entire affair to be so messy, but this was your Pedro we were talking about, the man has every childish bone in him, it was messy, but it was fun. And within 20 minutes of threatening to crack eggs on each other’s head you were both sitting on the floor, in front of the oven with Edgar, all three of you eagerly peering into the over waiting for the brownies to bake. You were laying back against Pedro, both of you whispering beautiful things about, “this is the life I always dreamed I would have.” And “me too, it was worth the wait.” You couldn’t help but think. God, I love this year.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fluff

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dornish-queen · 4 years

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Pedro Pascal on Fame and ‘The Mandalorian’: ‘Can We Cut the S— and Talk About the Child?’

By Adam B. Vary

Photographs by Beau Grealy

At some point during this particular visit, Pascal needed to go to the bathroom, and his parents let him go by himself. “I didn’t really know how to read yet,” Pascal says with the same Cheshire grin that dazzled “Game of Thrones” fans during his run as the wily (and doomed) Oberyn Martel. “I did not find my way back to ‘Superman.'”

Instead, Pascal wandered into a different theater (he thinks it was showing the 1979 domestic drama “Kramer vs. Kramer,” but, again, he was 4). In his shock and bewilderment at being lost, he curled up into an open seat and fell asleep. When he woke up, the movie was over, the theater was empty, and his parents were standing over him. To his surprise, they seemed rather calm, but another detail sticks out even more.

“I know that they finished their movie,” he says, bending over in laughter. “My sister was trying to get a rise out of me by telling me, ‘This happened and that happened and then Superman did this and then, you know, the earthquake and spinning around the planet.'” In the face of such relentless sibling mockery, Pascal did the only logical thing: “I said, ‘All that happened in my movie too.'”

He had no way of knowing it at the time, of course, but some 40 years later, Pascal would in fact get the chance to star in a movie alongside a DC Comics superhero — not to mention battle Stormtroopers and, er, face off against the most formidable warrior in Westeros. After his breakout on “Game of Thrones,” he became an instant get-me-that-guy sensation, mostly as headstrong, taciturn men of action — from chasing drug traffickers in Colombia for three seasons on Netflix’s “Narcos” to squaring off against Denzel Washington in “The Equalizer 2.”

This year, though, Pascal finds himself poised for the kind of marquee career he’s spent a lifetime dreaming about. On Oct. 30, he’ll return for Season 2 as the title star of “The Mandalorian,” Lucasfilm’s light-speed hit “Star Wars” series for Disney Plus that earned 15 Emmy nominations, including best drama, in its first season. And then on Dec. 25 — COVID-19 depending — he’ll play the slippery comic book villain Maxwell Lord opposite Gal Gadot, Chris Pine and Kristen Wiig in “Wonder Woman 1984.”

The roles are at once wildly divergent and the best showcase yet for Pascal’s elastic talents. In “The Mandalorian,” he must hide his face — and, in some episodes, his whole body — in a performance that pushes minimalism and restraint to an almost ascetic ideal. In “Wonder Woman 1984,” by stark contrast, he is delivering the kind of big, broad bad-guy character that populated the 1980s popcorn spectaculars of his youth.

“I continually am so surprised when everybody pegs him as such a serious guy,” says “Wonder Woman 1984” director Patty Jenkins. “I have to say, Pedro is one of the most appealing people I have known. He instantly becomes someone that everybody invites over and you want to have around and you want to talk to.”

Talk with Pascal for just five minutes — even when he’s stuck in his car because he ran out of time running errands before his flight to make it to the set of a Nicolas Cage movie in Budapest — and you get an immediate sense of what Jenkins is talking about. Before our interview really starts, Pascal points out, via Zoom, that my dog is licking his nether regions in the background. “Don’t stop him!” he says with an almost naughty reproach. “Let him live his life!”

Over our three such conversations, it’s also clear that Pascal’s great good humor and charm have been at once ballast for a number of striking hardships, and a bulwark that makes his hard-won success a challenge for him to fully accept.

Before Pascal knew anything about “The Mandalorian,” its showrunner and executive producer Jon Favreau knew he wanted Pascal to star in it.

“He feels very much like a classic movie star in his charm and his delivery,” says Favreau. “And he’s somebody who takes his craft very seriously.” Favreau felt Pascal had the presence and skill essential to deliver a character — named Din Djarin, but mostly called Mando — who spends virtually every second of his time on screen wearing a helmet, part of the sacrosanct creed of the Mandalorian order.

Convincing any actor to hide their face for the run of a series can be as precarious as escaping a Sarlacc pit. To win Pascal over in their initial meeting, Favreau brought him behind the “Mandalorian” curtain, into a conference room papered with storyboards covering the arc of the first season. “When he walked in, it must have felt a little surreal,” Favreau says. “You know, most of your experiences as an actor, people are kicking the tires to see if it’s a good fit. But in this case, everything was locked and loaded.”

Needless to say, it worked. “I hope this doesn’t sound like me fashioning myself like I’m, you know, so smart, but I agreed to do this [show] because the impression I had when I had my first meeting was that this is the next big s—,” Pascal says with a laugh.

Favreau’s determination to cast Pascal, however, put the actor in a tricky situation: Pascal’s own commitments to make “Wonder Woman 1984” in London and to perform in a Broadway run of “King Lear” with Glenda Jackson barreled right into the production schedule for “The Mandalorian.” Some scenes on the show, and in at least one case a full episode, would need to lean on the anonymity of the title character more than anyone had quite planned, with two stunt performers — Brendan Wayne and Lateef Crowder — playing Mando on set and Pascal dubbing in the dialogue months later.

Pascal was already being asked to smother one of his best tools as an actor, extraordinarily uncommon for anyone shouldering the newest iteration of a global live-action franchise. (Imagine Robert Downey Jr. only playing Iron Man while wearing a mask — you can’t!) Now he had to hand over control of Mando’s body to other performers too. Some actors would have walked away. Pascal didn’t.

“If there were more than just a couple of pages of a one-on-one scene, I did feel uneasy about not, in some instances, being able to totally author that,” he says. “But it was so easy in such a sort of practical and unexciting way for it to be up to them. When you’re dealing with a franchise as large as this, you are such a passenger to however they’re going to carve it out. It’s just so specific. It’s ‘Star Wars.'” (For Season 2, Pascal says he was on the set far more, though he still sat out many of Mando’s stunts.)

“The Mandalorian” was indeed the next big s—, helping to catapult the launch of Disney Plus to 26.5 million subscribers in its first six weeks. With the “Star Wars” movies frozen in carbonite until 2023 (at least), I noted offhand that he’s now effectively the face of one of the biggest pop-culture franchises in the world. Pascal could barely suppress rolling his eyes.

“I mean, come on, there isn’t a face!” he says with a laugh that feels maybe a little forced. “If you want to say, ‘You’re the silhouette’ — which is also a team effort — then, yeah.” He pauses. “Can we just cut the s— and talk about the Child?”

Yes, of course, the Child — or, as the rest of the galaxy calls it, Baby Yoda. Pascal first saw the incandescently cute creature during his download of “Mandalorian” storyboards in that initial meeting with Favreau. “Literally, my eyes following left to right, up and down, and, boom, Baby Yoda close to the end of the first episode,” he says. “That was when I was like, ‘Oh, yep, that’s a winner!'”

Baby Yoda is undeniably the breakout star of “The Mandalorian,” inspiring infinite memes and apocryphal basketball game sightings. But the show wouldn’t work if audiences weren’t invested in Mando’s evolving emotional connection to the wee scene stealer, something Favreau says Pascal understood from the jump. “He’s tracking the arc of that relationship,” says the showrunner. “His insight has made us rethink moments over the course of the show.” (As with all things “Star Wars,” questions about specifics are deflected in deference to the all-powerful Galactic Order of Spoilers.)

Even if Pascal couldn’t always be inside Mando’s body, he never left the character’s head, always aware of how this orphaned bounty hunter who caroms from planet to planet would look askance at anything that felt too good (or too adorable) to be true.

“The transience is something that I’m incredibly familiar with, you know?” Pascal says. “Understanding the opportunity for complexity under all of the armor was not hard for me.”

When Pascal was 4 months old, his parents had to leave him and his sister with their aunt, so they could go into hiding to avoid capture during Pinochet’s crackdown against his opposition. After six months, they finally managed to climb the walls of the Venezuelan embassy during a shift change and claim asylum; from there, the family relocated, first to Denmark, then to San Antonio, where Pascal’s father got a job as a physician.

Pascal was too young to remember any of this, and for a healthy stretch of his childhood, his complicated Chilean heritage sat in parallel to his life in the U.S. — separate tracks, equally important, never quite intersecting. By the time Pascal was 8, his family was able to take regular trips back to Chile to visit with his 34 first cousins. But he doesn’t remember really talking about any of his time there all that much with his American friends.

“I remember at one point not even realizing that my parents had accents until a friend was like, ‘Why does your mom talk like that?'” Pascal says. “And I remember thinking, like what?”

Besides, he loved his life in San Antonio. His father took him and his sister to Spurs basketball games during the week if their homework was done. He hoodwinked his mother into letting him see “Poltergeist” at the local multiplex. He watched just about anything on cable; the HBO special of Whoopi Goldberg’s one-woman Broadway show knocked him flat. He remembers seeing Henry Thomas in “E.T.” and Christian Bale in “Empire of the Sun” and wishing ardently, urgently, I want to live those stories too.

Then his father got a job in Orange County, Calif. After Pascal finished the fifth grade, they moved there. It was a shock. “There were two really, really rough years,” he says. “A lot of bullying.”

His mother found him a nascent performing arts high school in the area, and Pascal burrowed even further into his obsessions, devouring any play or movie he could get his hands on. His senior year, a friend of his mother’s gave Pascal her ticket to a long two-part play running in downtown Los Angeles that her bad back couldn’t withstand. He got out of school early to drive there by himself. It was the pre-Broadway run of “Angels in America.”

“And it changed me,” he says with almost religious awe. “It changed me.”

After studying acting at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, Pascal booked a succession of solid gigs, like MTV’s “Undressed” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” But the sudden death of his mother — who’d only just been permitted to move back to Chile a few years earlier — took the wind right from Pascal’s sails. He lost his agent, and his career stalled almost completely.

As a tribute to her, he decided to change his professional last name from Balmaceda, his father’s, to Pascal, his mother’s. “And also, because Americans had such a hard time pronouncing Balmaceda,” he says. “It was exhausting.”

Pascal even tried swapping out Pedro for Alexander (an homage to Ingmar Bergman’s “Fanny and Alexander,” one of the formative films of his youth). “I was willing to do absolutely anything to work more,” he says. “And that meant if people felt confused by who they were looking at in the casting room because his first name was Pedro, then I’ll change that. It didn’t work.”

It was a desperately lean time for Pascal. He booked an occasional “Law & Order” episode, but mostly he was pounding the pavement along with his other New York theater friends — like Oscar Isaac, who met Pascal doing an Off Broadway play. They became fast, lifelong friends, bonding over their shared passions and frustrations as actors.

“It’s gotten better, but at that point, it was so easy to be pigeonholed in very specific roles because we’re Latinos,” says Isaac. “It’s like, how many gang member roles am I going to be sent?” As with so many actors, the dream Pascal and Isaac shared to live the stories of their childhoods had been stripped down to its most basic utility. “The dream was to be able to pay rent,” says Isaac. “There wasn’t a strategy. We were just struggling. It was talking about how to do this thing that we both love but seems kind of insurmountable.”

As with so few actors, that dream was finally rekindled through sheer nerve and the luck of who you know, when another lifelong friend, actor Sarah Paulson, agreed to pass along Pascal’s audition for Oberyn Martell to her best friend Amanda Peet, who is married to “Game of Thrones” co-showrunner David Benioff.

“First of all, it was an iPhone selfie audition, which was unusual,” Benioff remembers over email. “And this wasn’t one of the new-fangled iPhones with the fancy cameras. It looked like s—; it was shot vertical; the whole thing was very amateurish. Except for the performance, which was intense and believable and just right.”

Before Pascal knew it, he found himself in Belfast, sitting inside the Great Hall of the Red Keep as one of the judges at Tyrion Lannister’s trial for the murder of King Joffrey. “I was between Charles Dance and Lena Headey, with a view of the entire f—ing set,” Pascal says, his eyes wide and astonished still at the memory. “I couldn’t believe I didn’t have an uncomfortable costume on. You know, I got to sit — and with this view.” He sighs. “It strangely aligned itself with the kind of thinking I was developing as a child that, at that point, I was convinced was not happening.”

And then it all started to happen.

In early 2018, while Pascal was in Hawaii preparing to make the Netflix thriller “Triple Frontier” — opposite his old friend Isaac — he got a call from the film’s producer Charles Roven, who told him Patty Jenkins wanted to meet with him in London to discuss a role in another film Roven was producing, “Wonder Woman 1984.”

“It was a f—ing offer,” Pascal says in an incredulous whisper. “I wasn’t really grasping that Patty wanted to talk to me about a part that I was going to play, not a part that I needed to get. I wasn’t able to totally accept that.”

Pascal had actually shot a TV pilot with Jenkins that wasn’t picked up, made right before his life-changing run on “Game of Thrones” aired. “I got to work with Patty for three days or something and then thought I’d never see her again,” he says. “I didn’t even know she remembered me from that.”

She did. “I worked with him, so I knew him,” she says. “I didn’t need him to prove anything for me. I just loved the idea of him, and I thought he would be kind of unexpected, because he doesn’t scream ‘villain.'”

In Jenkins’ vision, Max Lord — a longstanding DC Comics rogue who shares a particularly tangled history with Wonder Woman — is a slick, self-styled tycoon with a knack for manipulation and an undercurrent of genuine pathos. It was the kind of larger-than-life character Pascal had never been asked to tackle before, so he did something equally unorthodox: He transformed his script into a kind of pop-art scrapbook, filled with blown-up photocopies of Max Lord from the comic books that Pascal then manipulated through his lens on the character.

Even the few pages Pascal flashes to me over Zoom are quite revealing. One, featuring Max sporting a power suit and a smarmy grin, has several burned-out holes, including through the character’s eye. Another page features Max surrounded by text bubbles into which Pascal has written, over and over and over again in itty-bitty lettering, “You are a f—ing piece of s—.”

“I felt like I had wake myself up again in a big way,” he says. “This was just a practical way of, like, instead of going home tired and putting Netflix on, [I would] actually deal with this physical thing, doodle and think about it and run it.”

Jenkins is so bullish on Pascal’s performance that she thinks it could explode his career in the same way her 2003 film “Monster” forever changed how the industry saw Charlize Theron. “I would never cast him as just the stoic, quiet guy,” Jenkins says. “I almost think he’s unrecognizable from ‘Narcos’ to ‘Wonder Woman.’ Wouldn’t even know that was the same guy. But I think that may change.”

When people can see “Wonder Woman 1984” remains caught in the chaos the pandemic has wreaked on the industry; both Pascal and Jenkins are hopeful the Dec. 25 release date will stick, but neither is terribly sure it will. Perhaps it’s because of that uncertainty, perhaps it’s because he’s spent his life on the outside of a dream he’s now suddenly living, but Pascal does not share Jenkins’ optimism that his experience making “Wonder Woman 1984” will open doors to more opportunities like it.

“It will never happen again,” Pascal says, once more in that incredulous whisper. “It felt so special.”

After all he’s done in a few short years, why wouldn’t Pascal think more roles like this are on his horizon?

“I don’t know!” he finally says with a playful — and pointed — howl. “I’m protecting myself psychologically! It’s just all too good to be true! How dare I!”

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #variety magazine

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bitchin-beskar · 4 years

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love story

Rating: M (this was only supposed to have a little bit of smut, but... uh... I have no self control, apparently)

Warnings: smut. and apparently a breeding kink? i guess? who knows. certainly not me.

Word Count: 3k

Paring: Frankie x Reader

A/N: so I was listening to the folklore album, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about Frankie, so I impulsively decided to ignore my other WIPs for the night and instead write a marriedlife!drabble that takes place after the events of my folklore story. If you wanna re-read any of those chapters, they’re listed both in original posting order and chronological order on my masterlist, here. Enjoy my shameless self-indulgent ramblings!

Also, shameless shoutout to @mxndoscyarika, who’s my partner-in-crime when it comes to PNW!Frankie, her and I spent a fair bit of time rambling about all the things Frankie would love in the PNW, and Seattle, Washington specifically. It was those ramblings that helped inspire this fic! Check out some of her work!

Also, also, another shameless shoutout to @perropascal who fangirls with me about Frankie and Taylor Swift all the time. She’s got her own folklore fic with Frankie that y’all should definitely check out, along with some amazing stuff for Pedro’s other characters!

Also, also, also, I had the privilege of seeing Hamilton at the Paramount in Seattle in 2018, and it was an amazing experience, and I think some of that excitement shows in this story... sorry not sorry.

Tags: @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379, @marydjarin, @perropascal, @mxndoscyarika, @hayley-the-comet, @phoenixhalliwell, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @cryptkeepersoul

Please fill out this survey if you’d like to be tagged in any future works!

Biting your lip, you danced around your room in excitement, eagerly throwing the last of your toiletries in the duffel bag. You’d been hoping that you’d be able to surprise Frankie while the two of you were on your anniversary trip, and it looked like things were gonna go the way you were hoping.

A chuckle came from the doorway behind you, and you spun around, a sheepish grin on your face. Frankie stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his green button-up, his tattered baseball cap dangling from one of his hands.

His eyes were soft as he watched you, and when you turned to face him, he uncrossed his arms, holding one of his hands out to you. Taking it, he pulled you into a hug, tucking his face into the side of your neck, breathing deeply.

You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing tightly. You tried to school your features into a more neutral mask, but you couldn’t help the secret smile that spread across your lips.

“What’s got you so excited, princesa?”

You pulled back to look up at your husband, still in awe of the fact that you were actually married to this man, even though it had been three years already.

“It’s our anniversary Francisco, I think I’m allowed to be a little excited.”

Frankie looked down at you, sliding one of his hands into the back pocket of your jeans, tugging you closer against him. “Oh, you want to celebrate three years of being married to me? Is that a good thing?”

The joking tone of his voice was clear, but you smacked him lightly upside the head anyways. “Of course it’s a good thing, Francisco,” you muttered, tugging gently on his hair to pull him down to your level so that you could kiss him.

You’d intended for just a quick peck, but as you tried to pull away, Frankie cupped the back of your head and kept your lips pressed to his. You grinned, letting Frankie control the kiss for awhile before you finally–and reluctantly–pulled away.

“Frankie, mmh– Francisco, we’re going to be late– for our flight–” You mumbled your protests as Frankie kept pressing kisses against your lips, trapping your words. You finally had to push on his chest with both your hands to get him to stop. “Frankie! I’m serious!”

He grinned unashamedly. “I can always fly us there if we miss our plane, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not the point, Frankie.”

***

Frankie had been the one to suggest Seattle, Washington for your anniversary this year. He’d spent some time there when he was a little boy, and he’d gone back a couple times as he’d gotten older, and he’d always had nothing but good things to tell you about the city. He loved the weather, the sights, the community, and you were excited to get to finally visit the place your husband loved so much.

The two of you had discussed the idea of moving in the not-so-distant future, and depending on how this trip went, you were thinking about suggesting Seattle as a possible location to look into. Your husband clearly loved it, and as long as you did too–which, to be honest, you were expecting to–then you’d have no problems moving to the Evergreen State.

The flight wasn’t too long, and before you knew it, you were landing at SeaTac International Airport. Frankie had graciously given you the window seat, and you were eagerly looking out the tiny airplane window, taking in the scenery.

You were almost in a daze as Frankie led you through the airport, gathering your luggage and hailing a cab. From everything you’d heard, Washington sounded amazing, and you were so excited to get to experience all the sights.

Frankie had planned the weekend for the two of you, eagerly describing all the different places he wanted to take you. Pike Place Market, The Space Needle, The Gum Wall, the Seattle Aquarium, and the Woodland Park Zoo were just a few of the things that Frankie wanted the two of you to do.

He’d also told you that he had a surprise planned, and no matter how much you begged, he refused to tell you what it was. But, now you were mere hours from finding out, and it just added to your excitement.

The ride wasn’t supposed to take very long, but with the Seattle traffic, a seventeen minute trip turned into an almost forty-five minute trip. Thankfully, the cabbie seemed used to the traffic, and he expertly drove through the confusing twists and turns of downtown Seattle.

Arriving at the Hyatt Regency Hotel, Frankie tipped the cabbie generously, helping you to gather the luggage before heading in to check-in.

Looking around the lobby, you could immediately tell that it was a nicer hotel than the two of you usually stayed in. From the furniture to the chandeliers, everything felt very elegant and upper class.

“Frankie, how expensive was this?” You hissed under your breath, feeling more than a little out of place.

His hand was on the small of your back as he led you towards the reception desk. “Not as bad as you’re thinking, princesa, I promise. I know a guy from the military, he was able to get us a good deal.”

You quirked an eyebrow, but Frankie just smiled innocently.

***

You were in shock.

You stared at the two tickets Frankie had just handed you, your brain trying to process what your eyes were seeing.

“Hamilton?” You whispered. “You got us tickets to see Hamilton?”

Your eyes darted up to see your husband standing in front of you, a guarded look on his face. “Are you... excited?”

The tickets fluttered to the ground as you threw yourself at Frankie, your arms winding around his neck and your lips crashing against his.

He caught you easily, one arm wrapping around your waist as you wrapped both your legs around him. He held you up with ease, and you gripped his cheeks as you kissed him breathless.

When you pulled away, his cheeks were flushed, and the look in his eyes as he gazed up at your face made you smile. “I’m ecstatic, I can’t even describe how happy I am.”

Frankie kissed you softly once more before letting you unwind your legs from around his waist, helping you to stand on solid ground. You pecked him quickly on the cheek before turning to bend down and grab the tickets from where you dropped them.

A sharp smack on your ass made you squeak, and you jumped, turning to glare at your husband’s mock-innocent look. “You’d better get ready, baby. We have dinner reservations in an hour, and then the play.”

You tried to maintain your glare, but it was impossible with how happy you were. You placed the tickets down on the bed before heading to your suitcase to grab a change of clothes.

***

The play had been amazing. There were no other words to describe it. The Paramount Theatre was beautiful, and the show was fantastic. The cast, the songs, the set, the acting, all of it was better than you’d ever dreamed. Along with the fact that you were getting to experience it with the love of your life made it one of the best nights you’d had in a long time.

You’d even been able to participate in a stage-door experience, where you waited outside the stage exit to the street, and some of the actors came out to sign programs.

The entire walk back to the hotel–which, granted, was only about five minutes–you ranted to Frankie about all of the things you loved from the play. He hummed and hawed as you talked, letting you ramble. Whenever you got excited like this, it was easier to let you rant for a little bit to get the excitement out of your system before trying to actually carry on a conversation.

You’d run out of steam by the time the two of you had gotten into an elevator, and you turned to Frankie. “What did you think?” You asked, a breathless grin overtaking your features.

He stared at you for a moment, and you were about to repeat yourself when he cupped your cheeks and kissed you.

This kiss was different, rougher, and more desperate than the kisses from earlier. You’d had many years to get to know all of Frankie’s kisses, and you knew exactly what this kiss meant.

“Frankie!” You gasped, panting as his lips left yours, instead latching onto the skin over your pulse. “Frankie, we’re in a public elev–” you cut off, moaning as your husband’s wandering hands groped at your ass, kneading the flesh over the fabric of your dress.

He pulled away abruptly, leaving you wanting. You stared up at him, the dark look in his eyes going straight to your core, leaving you rubbing your thighs together to try and get some relief.

The doors opened with a soft ding, startling the two of you. Thankfully, you didn’t encounter anyone in the hallway, and you were able to enter your room without having to answer any awkward questions.

You barely had time to drop your clutch on a side table before Frankie was on you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he renewed his attack on your neck, grinding his erection into your ass.

Tilting your head to allow him better access, you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands as he nipped at your skin with his teeth. His hands roamed over your dress, cupping your breasts and dipping under your skirt to cup your pussy through your rapidly-soaking panties.

The moans leaving your lips are rapidly growing in volume. Frankie knows just how to touch you to make you scream and he’s already causing the heat in your belly to pool, the tightening in your core causing you to whimper and moan.

“Sweetheart, if you don’t want this dress to get ruined, you should take it off.”

You grin at the heat in your husband’s voice, reaching behind you to grip the zipper, lowering it slowly. You allow the dress to slowly slide off your form, your grin widening at the frustrated growl behind you.

As the dress finally pools at your feet, Frankie grips you around the waist and bodily throws you on the bed, his fingers undoing the buttons on his dress shirt as he stalks after you. He sheds his shirt, and quickly strips off his dress pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

You smirk at your husband as he climbs onto the bed and on top of you, his body pressing yours down into the mattress. He claims your lips again, and you gladly surrender to him. Everything he’s done for you, already this weekend is perfect, and it’s only the first night.

You’re so giddy, so amazingly content, you decide that now is the perfect time to give Frankie his present. You push gently on his bare chest, getting him to back off for just a moment.

“I want to give you your anniversary present,” You murmur, smiling at the confused look that flashes across Frankie’s face.

“Really, baby? Right now?” He emphasizes his words by grinding into you, and you have to bite your lip to hold back a moan.

“Yes, Francisco, now. It’s not something you can unwrap, though.” He looks down at you, confused. “We’ve talked about it before, and we never really decided to try, but, um...” You take one of Frankie’s hands and bring it to rest over your bare stomach. “In about nine months, you’re gonna be a daddy.”

Your eyes eagerly watch Frankie’s face for his reaction, and you’re not disappointed. His eyes widen in shock, darting between your face and his hand on your stomach, and you watch as a hopeful smile grows on his face.

“R–Really? You’re–You’re pregnant? We’re gonna have a–a baby?”

When you nod, Frankie kisses you harshly, pressing his lips so tightly against yours, you’re almost worried the skin might bruise, before he pulls away, crawling down your body so his face is level with your stomach.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, and you feel tears spring to your eyes. “I’m your daddy.” His voice is breathless, and you feel wet droplets on your skin from his tears. You run your fingers through his hair, cradling his head as he speaks to your unborn child.

“You better treat your mama real good, you hear me? She loves you so, so much already, and she’s gonna bring you into this world, so you’ve gotta be real nice to her.”

Now you’re crying, hearing Frankie speak to your baby with such love and devotion, you can’t even begin to put your joy into words. You’d had no doubts that Frankie would be anything other than absolutely thrilled, but hearing him speak brings it home that you both really are excited beyond belief.

Frankie crawls back up the bed, kissing you again and again and again. “You’re amazing, mi amor.” His voice is reverent, adoring, and filled with desire. “God, I want you so much.”

He pauses, his eyes dropping to your belly, and you can see the unspoken fear in his dark eyes. “Frankie, Francisco, look at me,” you grip his chin, forcing his gaze back to you. “Sex isn’t going to hurt the baby.”

“You promise?”

You chuckle softly. “I promise. Sex can be really beneficial for pregnant women.”

He raises an eyebrow, almost incredulously. When you nod, reassuring him once more, his grin in response is almost feral.

“You’re having my baby.”

The possessive tone in your husband’s voice sends shivers down your spine. He’d talked about wanting kids before, but this... this was new. And you most certainly weren’t going to complain.

He rolled the two of you suddenly, so that you were straddling his waist as he lay on the bed. He plucked at the ties on the sides of your underwear. “I’ve gotta say, I really like these,” he muttered, quickly undoing the ties, helping you to remove the offending undergarments.

They end up somewhere on the floor, but you’re not really focused on their final location. Instead, your attention is captured by your husband as he helps you slowly sink down on his cock.

You both groan in unison as he’s seated fully inside you. You stay still on top of him for a moment, still not used to his size, no matter how long the two of you have been doing this.

Frankie’s fingers are slowly stroking over the skin of your belly, and you bite your lip, looking down to see him staring at the path his fingers are taking.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You’re pregnant. With my baby.”

You clench your inner muscles, smirking at the groan that leaves his lips. “Do you like that? Do you like that you got me pregnant?” Frankie’s hips give an involuntary little thrust, and it’s your turn to moan.

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” Frankie’s words are distant, almost like he’s not even talking to you, but muttering to himself. He thrusts up again, and you gasp, again. “I got you pregnant.” Another thrust. “You’re gonna have my kid.” His next thrust is harder, and you bounce slightly on his lap.

“Oh god, Frankie,” your moan is loud, and unashamed. You don’t care who hears, you’re not focused on anything other than your husband.

His hands grip your hips, guiding you to ride him, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck, you feel so good, look so pretty riding my cock.” You throw your head back, raking your nails down Frankie’s chest as you’re chasing your release.

“‘M gonna watch your belly get so big,” he murmured, his gaze focused on your stomach. “You’re gonna look radiant, baby. So pretty, so fucking gorgeous.”

Your mouth falls open as he thrusts up harder while grinding you down as he does so. You unclasp your bra, throwing it off to the side as you play with your breasts, panting as your pleasure grows.

Frankie sits up, nudging one of your hands away with his nose, taking your nipple into his mouth. You cup the back of his head as he suckles at your breast, your other hand resting on Frankie’s thigh as he continues to fuck you.

Releasing your breast with a wet sound, he looks up at you, desire and wonder clear in his eyes. “Can’t wait to watch these grow fat with milk for our baby, princesa.” You whimper, both at his words and at the way he takes you back in his mouth.

Frankie brings you closer to your release, only to slow just as you’re about to fall over the edge. You whimper, trying to grind down, trying to chase your release, but Frankie’s grip on your hips stills your movements.

“Do you want to come, baby?”

You nod frantically, words escaping you as you try to encourage Frankie to let you come.

“Really?”

“YES! Please, Frankie! Please!”

He chuckles, rolling the two of you over once again, not even pausing to allow you to adjust to the new position before he begins to thrust again. Your mouth falls open, panting breaths escaping as Frankie pounds into you.

Before you can really register, you’re at your peak once again, and you’re begging Frankie to allow you your release.

“Oh, oh god, Frankie please, let me come,” you’re clutching at his arms as he’s pounding into you, your back arching, you’re so close.

Frankie bows his head, his dark eyes watching your writhing form. “Come for me, princesa. Come.”

You do, crying out loudly, nails digging into Frankie’s skin. He’s not far behind, thrusting a few more times before he’s coming inside you.

His arms are straining with the effort to hold himself off you, and you gently guide him down, bringing him to lay against you, his face buried in your neck. His arms come up to embrace you, his lips pressing gentle kisses onto your skin.

“I love you, so much, princesa.”

“I love you too, Frankie.”

#folklore #continuation #married life #drabble #not really #ended up being a bit longer than a drabble #hahaha #this is longer than most chapters #but I just love them so much #frankie x reader #Francisco Morales #Triple Frontier #reader fic #Reader #no use of Y/N

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gildedmuse · 4 years

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So the whole time we're in Wano, my bro and Em are overly excited. They keep saying, "there's this scene and... You know how many times you blogged about the ninja scene?" (Oh, sweeties, not nearly as much as I blogged about the drunken ZoLaw hug, but I get your point) "Well, you're going to blog so much more about this one."

Problem is, they have manga prevision, but they didn't know exactly when it would be happens in the show. So every week they would wait and see and watch me.

And then...

[How old was Zoro's Samurai Girlfriend TWENTY YEARS AGO? Cause I would put her age at middle to late twenties. Was she basically a child soldier?]

Mina: Oh man, do I finally get to see Zoro's Samurai Girlfriend actually, seriously fight for real?

Thaniel & Em: *Exchange Looks*

Mina: She better kick as much ass as Zoro implied she can.

Thaniel & Em: *Wait for it...*

Thaniel & Em: *Stare*

[Let's take a minute to appreciate her, and really the whole team's, bad ass posing skills. For being out of action for 20 years it is on point]

Thaniel & Em: *Stare*

Thaniel & Em: *STARE*

Em: Okay, are you not paying attention or are you just not going to say anything?

Thaniel: I mean, we specifically worked so hard to make sure that stayed a secret.

Mina: And you did. I had no idea Zoro's Samurai Girlfriend was Trans.

Em: So aren't you going to freak out? Or even comment?

Mina: I mean, get with it Chopper; that question is so uncool. But, you know, he was raised a reindeer... And crazy people.

Mina: I do love that over all he cares way less about that than the fact that ahhh! Scary mask!

I'm so sorry you two, I failed you miserably. Truth is, I love that there is a nonbinary character who isn't like a mythical animal or otherworldly presence. She's just a kick ass samurai and one of Oden's nine (nine!) Zoro's. Amazing. And as long as characters continue treating her just like they have up until now, then, yes, super excited about this totally love it.

But it's like when Crocodile reappeared in Impel Down, or when Ace died, or the giant frozen Strawhat, or any situation in which I am given a gift. Once expectations are placed on my reaction, I just freeze up. Like, well, I don't want to hurt anyone and I don't know what's coming so I'm going to assume a neutral emotion until this is over.

Rest assured, I'm excited to see more of her. I'm also excited about having a nonbinary character, but if I'm totally honest I was excited to see more of her before that. She's like the second girl to ever really impress Zoro. That's way more interest-

I will say, I get why at first Em really tried to get me to learn the character's name instead of reducing her to Zoro's Samurai Girlfriend. But, come on, it made Thaniel laugh and it ensured that I would like her. I mean, I have to. She's Zoro's Samurai Girlfriend (and, sorry, Kiku, thus you will forever be known to me. But I'm a good way! Like how Pedro is Cat Zoro until the day he.... Oh... Right.)

Although now I have to constantly be nervous around her like, "come on show, please don't fuck this up." But that's just my lit crit brain that has seen too much media attempt to be inclusive and fail.

And let's admit, One Piece couldn't keep two mildly tan characters on the show given a whole two years were they could just bleachify them. Also, Zeff, Sanji, Brook, Kin'emon, Pervert Dragon Kid, and the idea that Judge Vinsmoke designed this for his sons and then looked at his daughter and thought, "hmm, I suppose the most practical outfit for the one of you without the full genetic modifications would be this."

So I already liked her, now I just have to fear for her. Well, more than I did before. Let's face it, you constantly fear for any character that isn't "The Default". And you should. Writers often fuck them right up and over.

Now, on a happier note (though it does mention fields of dying soldiers), some Bonus Content:

Mina: Also... How did they know that Kikiunojo was so beautiful if she always wore the mask?

Thaniel: Maybe she took it off after slaughtering an entire army. Let them gaze upon her beauty one last time before perishing forever.

Em: How did that work if they all perished forever?

Thaniel: I didn't say they died.

Mina: Maybe it's the super sexy mask. Like... Look, I don't know how that handsome devil is under there, but it is no doubt a handsome devil. I mean, look at that sexy oni!

Em: Demons are known to be sexy motherfuckers.

Thaniel: Eh.... I'd say it's a 50/50 between Hot and Horrifying.

I mean, I can't argue with that. We all know it to be true. Personally, whenever I hear a demon is coming for me my first thought is, "shit" followed by, "God I hope it's one of the hot ones and not the festering pus sacks with the faces that you cannot unsee until madness finally overcomes your mind."

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leepace71 · 4 years

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When Pedro Pascal was roughly 4 years old, he and his family went to see the 1978 hit movie “Superman,” starring Christopher Reeve. Pascal’s young parents had come to live in San Antonio after fleeing their native Chile during the rise of dictator Augusto Pinochet in the mid-1970s. Taking Pascal and his older sister to the movies — sometimes more than once a week — had become a kind of family ritual, a way to soak up as much American pop culture as possible.At some point during this particular visit, Pascal needed to go to the bathroom, and his parents let him go by himself. “I didn’t really know how to read yet,” Pascal says with the same Cheshire grin that dazzled “Game of Thrones” fans during his run as the wily (and doomed) Oberyn Martel. “I did not find my way back to ‘Superman.'”

Before Pascal knew anything about “The Mandalorian,” its showrunner and executive producer Jon Favreau knew he wanted Pascal to star in it.

“The transience is something that I’m incredibly familiar with, you know?” Pascal says. “Understanding the opportunity for complexity under all of the armor was not hard for me.”

“I remember at one point not even realizing that my parents had accents until a friend was like, ‘Why does your mom talk like that?'” Pascal says. “And I remember thinking, like what?”

“And it changed me,” he says with almost religious awe. “It changed me.”

And then it all started to happen.

“It will never happen again,” Pascal says, once more in that incredulous whisper. “It felt so special.”

After all he’s done in a few short years, why wouldn’t Pascal think more roles like this are on his horizon?

“I don’t know!” he finally says with a playful — and pointed — howl. “I’m protecting myself psychologically! It’s just all too good to be true! How dare I!”

#pedro pascal #variety #interview

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cellophanejpeg · 4 years

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idk who to send this to so you're getting it, lmao. but i just read an article (maybe it was a recap of an interview???) but pedro was basically talking about a scene he did with the child that was improv'd for season 2... so like actual pedro in suit???? actual pedros face with baby bc they're a clan??? like what does this mean? idk but i don't think i can handle it tbh (I don't expect you to answer, lol, but i just wanted to word vomit it to someone, lub you & I hope you have a good day💖💖💖)

omg yes, I saw that!!!!!!! I really hope this moment made it to the final cut, I know I'll go feral if it did 🥺🥺🥺 definitely trying not to think about protective dad mando, cause it's making me emotional 🤧🤧🥺💖

AND ALSO, Pedro behind Mando's mask hits different 🥴 I hope he takes the helmet off again in season 2 tbh 👀

#i also hope season 2 brings my Din muse back #i want to write for him!!!!#answered #anonymous

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dontwanttobeasexyvampire · 5 years

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I wrote the first chapter of a Preacher fanfic starring an OC and I hope you like it!

Warnings: Mature content, sex, language

It was a sweltering Sunday in Annville, Texas, and the sticky morning heat inside the chapel was suffocating. I sat in the third row next to my Momma, fanning myself with a program and doing my damnedest to stay awake during the service. Unlike her, I wasn't exactly a believer, and as the droplets formed around my brow and rolled down the sides of my face, Momma's voice resounded in my head.

"You're sweating like a sinner in church," she'd scold me in the old days, frequently, at the slightest hint of my distress. Today, I was certainly perspiring through my scratchy Sunday best dress, but at least a quick peek around the room revealed I wasn't the only sweating scamp in the room.

I was trying to keep an open mind—believe me, I was—but the All Saints Congregational church seemed to me to be a meeting place for the town's biggest outcasts and degenerates. Maybe a quarter of the seats were filled, and try as I might to concentrate, my thoughts drifted, and I couldn’t stop my mind from inventing stories of the folks sitting in the pews around me.

There was the churchgoer who had clearly had the shit beaten out of him, his busted arm held up in a cast and sling. I imagined him losing a bar fight, badly, his pride all but trampled. I'd had to force myself not to stare at another who seemed to have an enormous anus in place of a mouth. No matter where my thoughts went, they couldn't come up with a suitable explanation for this poor kid with the ass face. And then there was the man unselfconsciously stretched out across an entire back pew, dozing. At least he had the right idea, getting in his penance without having to engage whatsoever.

I tried to pass the time by studying the architecture, but I could only stare at the big plain cross at the head of the church for so long, and the harsh sunlight washed out the stained glass windows so I couldn’t even make out the patterns. I had to remove my glasses again and again to wipe the lenses of condensation from the growing humidity in the room, and eventually I simply gave up. The coughing bellow of the pipe organ only served to lull me closer to sleep.

As I sat through a bizarre and toneless punk interpretation of “Amazing Grace," I wondered exactly what I'd gotten myself into coming here. It took only minutes of Sunday service for me to regret ever agreeing to let Momma introduce me to the new preacher, who—she’d reminded me again and again—was single.

After all, I'd only been unattached for two weeks and was in no rush to jump back into the fray. That relationship ended when my boyfriend of 9 years broke things off without warning. I never saw it coming, but all I could think about as the bullshit spewed from his mouth were the things I thought I should be feeling. I wasn't heartbroken or upset. I didn't even feel numb. All I felt was an overwhelming sense of freedom.

It was a signal for change, and after more than a decade in Los Angeles, I had to give in to the fact that Texas was calling out to me. It was time to come home. So I made my arrangements, packed up my things and was out of there in the course of a week.

But even this reinvigorating fresh start couldn't mask that particular stink of Annville. I knew better than to dig too deeply so close to my roots. All that was down there was shit and offal. Instead, the cozy digs I found about 20 miles outside the town limits suited me fine. Even the brown-yellow haze that seemed to perpetually coat the place lifted once you'd gotten far away enough from it. I was glad to miss the introduction of the new town mascot, Pedro the Prairie Dog, on the night I’d arrived. Regardless of what Momma told me, I was sure it was a shitshow.

Preacher Custer wasn't quite what I'd been expecting, either. He was handsome enough, striking quite the figure and emulating a saintly cowboy in his black suit, steel tips and clerical collar, but his little speech threw me for a loop and didn’t exactly inspire my confidence. I glanced at Momma as the preacher spoke and saw that the stuff about starting fights and hurting the community didn’t register at all. But when he got to speaking the word of god, she held her hand to her heart like he’d uttered a revelation. I wasn’t impressed.

When the service ended early, without a sermon, the relieved murmur from the small crowd was impossible to miss. As most of the audience filed out to barbecue and drink Sunday morning beers, Momma leaned over and insisted it was time for me and Jesse Custer to meet. I knew it was a bad idea, but eager to get the whole thing over with, I agreed to step up to the pulpit with her to say hello. We rose from the uncomfortable wooden benches.

That's when we were approached by the organist, who was quite happy to see Momma. She seemed straight-laced and dedicated, but to me it also appeared that she might be hanging on to her composure by a thread. I thought they were going to hug, but a sense of prim propriety forbade it.

"Emily, this is my daughter, Ada," Momma introduced me, and we exchanged pleasantries before Emily saw the program in my hand.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she said to me as she put one hand to her face. “Things were kind of last-minute, so the service didn’t exactly follow along. You must have been very confused."

"Oh, I figured things out," I said. "No big thing." While I'd read every word on the flier to kill time, multiple times, I hadn't been paying enough attention to notice the discrepancies.

"Ada here is back in Texas after a long time away,” Momma chimed in. “And I knew she had to meet Preacher Custer." It was then that the very little color in Emily's face drained completely. Momma didn't notice—or didn't care. "I think they'd make a lovely couple, don't you?"

She did her best to maintain a smile, but I think her eye was starting to twitch.

"Y'know, I gotta run," Emily blurted, suddenly seeking like she had a dozen places to be. "Errands, kids. You know. You two take care." And like that, she was gone.

Despite the weirdness, it a welcome diversion. Momma had to grab my arm and drag me along to get me to finally step up to the preacher. We stood there before him for a moment before I loudly cleared my throat and he finally glanced up from his podium to see us.

"Mae, welcome back," he said to her, his eyes fixated back on the podium, which I realized had nothing on it.

"Preacher Custer, I'd like to introduce you to my daughter, Ada," she replied as she gave me a tiny shove, pushing me nearer to him. Again, there was a pause as he finally raised his eyes long enough to truly see us both.

"Welcome," he said, extending his hand. I firmly gave it a shake, and even through his twinkling, pleasant smile and the way he looked me directly in the eye, I knew he was seeing right through me. "Pleasure to meet you, Ada."

"Pleasure's all mine," I responded.

Momma continued the small talk from there, but it didn't seem Jesse was absorbing much from the conversation. To be fair, neither was I, so I eventually excused myself, seeking some quiet.

I ran my fingers over the corners of the pews on my right as I walked to the back of the church, contemplating this massive waste of time. But then, just before the very last row, I halted. The sleeping man lay there along the bench, arms folded on his chest. His big hazel eyes stared right up at me.

"Hello there,” he said. His voice was deep but musical, and his words ended in a toothy grin. His unmistakably Irish accent caught me off guard. It certainly wasn't the type of thing you ever heard in Annville.

"Hi," I said back. I was a bit wary, but at least I wasn't bored. He sat up then, pulling down at the corners of his denim vest, and then his playful expression sharpened a bit as he gazed up at me, to the front of the chapel and back again, like he was solving some kind of mental equation.

"I can put in a good word for you with the Padre, y'know," he said, pointing his thumb in the general direction of the preacher. I thought he was joking at first, but his sincerity was apparent. "He's my best mate. Listens to me."

Sizing him up, I never would have pegged him as a friend of Custer's. But he was either the world's greatest liar or he was telling the truth, and despite everything, I believed him. Something about him pulled the honesty out of me, too.

"I do appreciate the offer," I said, shaking my head slightly, "but I'm not really interested."

He paused.

"Not your type, eh?" He raised an arched eyebrow emphatically as he studied me.

"Not exactly," I admitted. "Not that I'm looking. I just got broken up with, so for now I'm gonna be taking things slow."

"Well, you look great," he said, looking down and wiping his palms on his jeans.

"I... What?" I stammered, and when a smile cracked again across his lips, I began thinking he liked getting a rise out of me.

"For someone who just had a split, you look great," he expanded. "There's a look about you. A glow. He was probably a bit of a bastard, am I right? You're better off, is what I'm sayin'."

I don't know if it was the heat, but I could feel a warm blush in my cheeks.

"Thanks," is all I managed to say before I heard Momma call behind me to say it was time to go.

The man stood now for the first time, towering above me by more than a head, as he extended a tattoo-marked hand.

"The name's Cassidy," he said.

"Ada." I shook it back, and as he smiled softly at me, I somehow got the feeling this wouldn’t be the last I'd see of him.

—

Momma blabbed about Jesse Custer for the full 10 or so minutes it took me to drive her home, and honestly I was relieved she never once asked me what I thought about him. I imagined I'd feel a bit more focused once things got quiet, but even once I'd dropped her off, I found myself having difficulty concentrating my mind.

The whole drive home was a blur, and when I got back to my apartment, I couldn't muster the willpower to even look at my Sunday to-do list. Moving boxes remained full and laundry sat in hampers. All I could summon the strength to do was watch old movies on TV and order Chinese takeout.

When bedtime came, sleep wouldn't. I'd utilized all my usual insomnia tricks—blackout curtains, melatonin, lavender oil, a white noise machine and a little light meditation—but I still found myself lying awake, bouncing from thought to thought about my life and the decisions that led me here, yet unable to fully dig down and comprehend any of it.

Hours must have passed, and just when I finally thought my mind was finally settling down, the doorbell rang, harsh and piercing, just like the one I'd had back in Los Angeles. It jolted me out of bed. Now my mind was fuzzier than ever, and just making it to the front door left me feeling confused, like my apartment was a winding maze. I finally reached the entrance after what seemed like forever, and then unlocked the main door and opened it wide to see who had rung at such an hour.

I stared through the screen door. Standing in the dark, illuminated by wall lamps, was Cassidy, and somehow just seeing him brought things back into focus. Noticing the look of concern on his face, I quickly undid the next lock and opened the door for him.

"Cassidy... What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you." His voice was resolute, and my first instinct was to comfort him.

"What's wrong?" I asked, stepping closer to put my hand on his arm.

And then he looked straight into me with his sad, probing eyes, cupped his strong hands on both sides of my face, and kissed me hard on the mouth. For a second I did nothing, giving into him entirely, before I tugged on his vest to lead him inside, shutting the doors behind him.

Before I knew it, we were up against the wall, his arms at my waist as he tenderly kissed down my neck, nipping at my ear and sending ripples of pleasure down every inch of me. I felt his hard cock press against my belly through the denim of his jeans and I knew there wasn’t anything I wanted more than him, right here and now.

He was kissing my neck again as I fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans, finally undoing them to find that his big cock was barely being held back by his boxer briefs. I pulled them down, and as his full length unfurled, I became ravenous for it.

Soon he was lifting me by the thighs, pinning me against the wall, and when he slid inside of me I was wetter than I’d ever been. God he was big, filling me up with powerful strokes that made me quiver and call out. He hungrily kissed my lips and then my neck and then my lips again, pulling me toward him with every thrust of his hips to go deeper and deeper, bringing me closer to ecstasy each time. I leaned into him, arms clutched around his neck, and pulsed with his every move. And then fuck, I felt it coming, slowly building inside of me in waves. I told him not to stop, that I was going to cum, and he obliged.

I moaned his name as I climaxed, and he held me as close as ever, never stopping, as sunlight began to trickle through the breaks in the blinds. Then the rays reached us, and our skin caught with bright, dancing flames. His gaze was so piercing now, even as the blaze left us blistered and risen away to ash.

He gave me one final rough kiss and I bolted awoke in my bed, soaked in sweat, mind racing, and horny as all get out. I'd never had a dream so vivid and emotional and erotic. I pulled the curtain aside to peek out, and was slightly relieved to find it was still the dead of night. I took a quick shower to clean up and try to get my thoughts straight, and I suppose I did, because as I lay in bed for the next three hours trying to get back to sleep, the only thought I could conjure for more than half a second was of Cassidy and when I could see him again.

#preacher #proinsias cassidy #fanfic

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rebelsofshield · 5 years

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Star Wars The Mandalorian: “Chapter 1: The Client″-Review

Slap on some beskar. Pull on your helmet. Be prepared to get a bit grimy. After years of anticipation, the first ever live action Star Wars television series, The Mandalorian, has arrived. Despite a clunky start, this new galactic underworld saga looks to change the face of the franchise and takes us to unknown worlds and heights.

(Review contains spoilers)

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It’s been five years since the fall of the Empire. While the New Republic attempts to instill order in the richer center of the galaxy, the faraway reaches have fallen into lawlessness and border wars. In this world of criminal empires and warlords, The Mandalorian (Padro Pascal) ekes out a simple living carrying out jobs for the Bounty Hunters Guild and their leader, Greef Carga (Carl Weathers). With bail jumpers a plenty and crime on the rise, the availability of substantial bounties has begun to slip, which forces The Mandalorian to take an off the books job for a mysterious client (Werner Herzog), who has ties to the remnants of the Empire. The hunt for this vague bounty will take him to the edges of the galaxy and potentially upend a massive conspiracy along the way.

The Mandalorian comes after years of speculation, excitement, and storytelling foundation. Live action Star Wars television has been a pipe dream for the franchise for decades and has come close to reality several times. Whether it was the too ambitious to ever shoot Star Wars Underworld or all manner of shows that have been teased and hinted at since the start of the Disney era of Lucasfilm, fans have been eagerly awaiting a time when the galaxy far, far away could make the jump to the small screen.

Writer and executive producer Jon Favreau’s The Mandalorian has finally arrived to fill that void. It comes with the kind of lofty expectations that one would expect from a Star Wars property but also the weight of the success of Disney’s massive in scope streaming service on its shoulders. In any other year, it would be the event of the year for this franchise, but in 2019 it’s just another addition to a series of huge landmark moments for this little space saga..

Favreau is no stranger to the warriors of Mandalore. He made his Star Wars debut in the animated series The Clone Wars as the Death Watch leader Pre Viszla, who was written and invented by episodic director Dave Filoni making his jump to live action here. Favreau’s affection for this fictional culture, old Western films, and classic Star Wars underworld storytelling all congeal into the DNA of this series, which seems like a recipe for success.

It’s unfortunate then that the first half of this opening chapter is such a dud. Despite the amount of talent evident on and behind the screen, The Mandalorian stumbles out of the gate before thankfully righting itself in its final acts.

It’s unclear at first just what isn’t clicking. It may be the awkwardly staged and acted bar fight that begins the episode. Maybe it’s the unnecessary walrus beast attack upon The Mandalorian’s ship. Maybe its Horatio Sanz’s annoyingly pitiful performance as The Mandalorian’s first bounty. Or even the fact that our ever masked protagonist takes a while to evolve into more than your run of the mill silent badass.

In short, there is simply a stilted and clunky manner to how The Mandalorian welcomes us into its cinematic world. In a way, this may be a growing pain for first time live action director Dave Filoni. It makes sense, The Mandalorian looks beautiful and the moments it pulls back the camera to let us breath in the scope of its massive landscape are breathtaking. It’s easy to see Filoni’s animated sensibilities sneak themselves in for these picturesque moments of scene setting. When it’s not clicking however, characters move through environments in ways that feel static and more than a little stilted. There is one sequence in particular regarding a brief series of flashbacks that feels like it would’ve served an animated form much better and feels more than a little jarring.

As a whole though, even in its awkward early sections, The Mandalorian is gorgeous to look at. Its entire world feels like the famous Mos Eisley sequence from A New Hope spread across star systems. Each set feels filled with all manner of gorgeously rendered scum and villainy and the scale and rendering of it all feels more akin to a theatrical movie than almost any other television series in recent memory.

Luckily, once Werner Herzog’s delightfully sinister and mysterious “client” appears and offers The Mandalorian his new job, “Chapter 1” begins to find its footing. There is a certain poetry that a scene in which our titular anti-hero attempts to learn to ride an alien beast known as a blurrg is the first time that the show clicks. Maybe it’s that The Mandalorian is most at home when it leans into its western roots or that finally giving Pedro Pascal the chance to loosen up a bit brings the energy back to the plot. From here onwards, as The Mandalorian teams up with Nick Nolte’s Ughnaut Kuiil and later Taika Waititi’s delightfully deadly IG-11, the show kicks into high gear and becomes the space opera crime saga it desperately wants to be.

A late episode shootout where IG-11 and The Mandalorian join forces to retrieve a bounty guarded by all manner of alien thugs is a standout. Filoni has always had an eye for how to shoot action and it is one of the aspects that translates best to the screen. IG-11 is a scene stealer and the character moves and fights with a mechanical rigidity that hints towards its own sardonic personality. The rapport developed between the droid and the Mandalorian is the best dynamic of the episode and it sparks with a sense of energy and adventurous fun.

Pedro Pascal by and large does a strong job of carrying what is an undeniably difficult role to play. Being both unnamed and buried beneath a mask, The Mandalorian is more than a little difficult to get a read on. Pascal is a strong physical performer and gives the character’s movements a sense of panache and purpose, but it’s the moments where the façade dips and the actor’s more comedic and charismatic sensibilities slip in that shine the most. It’ll be a treat to see how this character and actor mold to one another in the episodes to come.

It’s likely going to be that final reveal though that leaves fans talking for weeks going forward (or at least when the next episode airs on Friday). Yes, there is a baby Yoda in this show. What does it mean? How does this change the Star Wars universe as a whole? Who knows, but it’s the big storytelling risk that this show needed and it opens up all manner of possibilities for future episodes.

It’s only natural that a show of this scope and scale wobble a bit on its feet. It does take a while to learn to ride a blurrg. Luckily, if the latter half of this episode is any indication, The Mandalorian is well on its way to being a very fun and very engaging series that is sure to be a one of a kind treat for fans of the franchise..

Score: B

#Star Wars #The Mandalorian #Jon Favreau #Dave Filoni #Pedro Pascal #Taika Waititi #review #reviews

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jrobert1698-blog · 5 years

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The Mandalorian Season One Review

The Mandalorian is a Disney+ original television show starring Pedro Pascal and created by Jon Favreau. In addition to featuring a supporting cast of Gina Carano, Carl Weathers, and Giancarlo Esposito, the show also created a legend of our time: Baby Yoda. Logging just eight episodes in its debut season, the show follows a conflicted bounty hunter as he attempts to honor the creed of his people, the customs of his profession, and his heart’s desire. If you haven’t seen the show yet, I highly suggest you check it out. Some spoilers lie ahead if you wish to turn back now; otherwise, “this is the way.”

I’ll be honest: I’m a really big Star Wars fan. I should qualify that by saying I haven’t consumed every bit of the Star Wars canon, and I’m not extremely familiar with the Expanded Universe. I know this qualifies me as scum; force choke me if you must. Nonetheless, it is one of my favorite franchises dating all the way back to my early childhood. This makes it somewhat difficult to review anything Star Wars related because I’m always subconsciously rooting for it to be good. I allowed this to get the better of me with The Last Jedi, and I defended that film for far too long. In short, I tried to approach The Mandalorian with an open mind but without letting my inner fanboy take over my sensibilities. I’d like to believe that this review is as neutral as possible but if I do sound overexcited please forgive me.

Before I get into The Mandalorian in detail I want to take a brief step back to 2015. Before The Force Awakens cam out, everybody was excited to see Star Wars again. Despite box office success, some people dismissed Episode VII as too derivative of A New Hope. Others were just happy to have new characters, a diverse cast, and a competent director in J.J. Abrams. I will go to the grave believing that the single biggest mistake Disney made since purchasing Star Wars was hiring Rian Johnson to direct The Last Jedi. While he is clearly capable of creating a great film in his own right, his vision clashed significantly with Abrams’ and the end result was a very divisive movie that split up the Star Wars fan base. It made at least half the fandom bitter and jaded towards anything Star Wars that Disney produced. People desperately needed something to unify them and make them remember why they love Star Wars again. I’m happy to report that season one of The Mandalorian is exactly what the fans, and Disney, needed.

I feel as though its only proper to begin a review of The Mandalorian by discussing Din Djarin himself as portrayed by Pedro Pascal. I liked him in Game of Thrones and I like him even more here. Some people might assume that having a mask cover your entire face makes acting easier. To some extent this is true. Not having to express emotions with one’s eyes and mouth alleviates some of the burden. However, its also a unique acting challenge to make people get invested in a character whose face they can’t see. The fact that so many love this character is a testament to good screenwriting and Pascal’s acting ability. The audience actually roots for Mando to keep his mask on because the writers made it a crucial part of his identity. Additionally, Pascal has to express emotion through the intonation of his voice, the speed at which he turns his helmet, and his deliberate pace when he walks. This is far more difficult than people realize, and Pascal deserves a lot of credit for making this season the success that it was.

The character of the Mandalorian also stands out to me because in many ways he exemplifies the qualities of a good action hero. Again, good screenwriting. He comes off as a believable bad ass from the minute he slices a guy in half with a door in Episode 1. However, unlike other Star Wars protagonists of late, he never feels overpowered either. Audiences need to feel like their hero is in danger of getting hurt or dying in order for excitement to register. There are many moments in this season where Mando gets his ass kicked. He gets electrocuted by Jawas, gored by a Mudhorn, pinned down by Bounty Hunters and almost blown up several times. However, like any good action hero, he always manages to bounce back and lives to fight another day. This is why audiences truly respect this character who, at the end of the day, is just a human being like all of us.

Another great, and perhaps underrated, aspect of this show is the amazing score by Ludwig Goransson. I really liked his work on Black Panther as well and I’m looking forward to any future projects he works on. This is the first time I can remember that anyone other than John Williams has made an original and memorable Star Wars score. The main title is freakin’ awesome. It’s the perfect blend of tribal mysticism and the military marches we’ve come to know and love. Fortunately, this space opera comes with some great overtures to highlight it.

Before I sound like a total fanboy, let’s talk about a few issues I have with the show. There are certainly issues you can nitpick from a canon perspective but that isn’t my main concern. My biggest complaint would be the sometimes haphazard nature of the show. Episode 5 in particular felt like a sizable departure from the main story. Episode 6, while more entertaining, similarly broke from the overarching narrative to give us a little bit of Mando’s backstory. I don’t necessarily have a problem with this video game mission approach to the show, but I do hope that some of these side quests get paid off more significantly in future episodes. I also would have liked a more consistent emphasis on the supporting cast members like Carano’s Cara Dune and Weathers’ Greef Carga. Even Kuill could have used more screen time if for no other purpose than to make us more attached to him before his untimely death.

My complaints, in the long run, are relatively minor. Compared to my overall respect and enjoyment of this show, they pale in comparison. One major reason why is that Disney spared no expense in making this show the best it could possibly be. The visual effects, where I feared they might skimp, were better than a lot of feature films. The show felt cinematic, like Game of Thrones did at its best. The cinematography was mostly great as well. I particularly liked Taika Waititi’s direction in the season finale. That shot of Mando finally using a jetpack to latch onto Moff Gideon’s TIE Fighter deserves to be on a poster. I would also be remiss if I didn’t mention the closing shot of Gideon holding the fucking Darksaber. I can’t wait to see Giancarlo Esposito in an expanded role in Season 2 and hopefully beyond. If he can play half the villain he did in Breaking Bad it will be a success.

And, of course, I had to save the single best part of this show, by far, for last. Baby. Fucking. Yoda. This is one of the most well-concealed plot twists in recent memory. Disney, somehow, did a fantastic job of keeping Baby Yoda out of marketing materials and trailers in the pre-release process. When I first saw that adorable green face for the first time I somehow screamed, laughed and cried out in excitement at once. This character is great for so many reasons besides obviously being the cutest thing to come out of 2019. The Child makes Mando extremely conflicted and puts him in the most difficult quandary of his life: honor his code as a Bounty Hunter or follow his instincts and protect this child in need? Baby Yoda also kicks a lot of ass for a one-foot-tall fifty year old. His obviously strong connection to the force presents a myriad of options for his future: will he train as a Jedi, be a powerful vigilante, or turn to the dark side? I’m kidding, but I’m also serious; he did force choke Cara Dune after all. And he’s grown up among a series of explosions, laser beams, and punchy storm troopers. That’s a pretty traumatic childhood. Clearly, Baby Yoda has turned into a phenomenon and sparked an infinite number of memes, songs, and art. I think it’s well deserved and I can’t wait to see more adventures in baby sitting with our little green friend.

My thoughts on The Mandalorian can be expressed very simply: it’s fucking awesome. There is a whole lot to like about where this story is going and what Favreau and the slew of directors have done so far. They’ve managed to inject genuine excitement into the fan base for what feels like the first time in a very, very long time. Additionally, Disney needed to knock one out of the park in order to salvage their reputation and preserve fan interest in one of their most valuable franchises. Despite a few minor missteps, season one of The Mandalorian is a fantastic and I eagerly anticipate season two whenever it comes out. If you haven’t seen it yet, go check it out. Baby Yoda alone makes it worth it. I have spoken.

Rating: 9/10

#the mandalorian #baby yoda #star wars #tv #disney

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operationrainfall · 5 years

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Title My Friend Pedro Developer Deadtoast Publisher Devolver Digital Release Date June 20th, 2019 Genre Bullet Ballet Platform Steam, Nintendo Switch Age Rating T for Teen – Blood, Violence, Language Official Website

I’ve been looking forward to My Friend Pedro since I demoed it last year at PAX West. It’s not often you see a concept so wacky nor a control scheme so ambitious. In many ways, this is the closest we’ll probably get to a true Deadpool videogame, and that’s something developer Deadtoast seems to be very aware of. They play with reality as you progress, as well as poke fun at gamers and the industry at large. The simple question then is this: was My Friend Pedro worth the wait? Or was this banana not quite ripe yet?