I need mando in a way that is concerning to feminism. Like,, biblically
Oh god anon me too.
But the thing is Din is a gentleman.
You can be on your knees, glassy eyed, drooling, begging him and Din will still treat you right. Will still go 'Is that right, sweet girl?' and press a gloved thumb down on your bottom lip, will chuckle when you try and suck on it, maybe go so far as to mention how needy you are. Yet he'll give you exactly what you want, will fish himself from his pants for you and encourage you to go slow, don't rush, we have time.
He's gentle even when he isn't, will give you what you want with his hips pressing flush against yours and curl his hand under your head to cushion it, will ask you if it's too much, will make sure you're taken care of even as he wrecks you. He hesitates to do something as severe as to slap his hand against your bottom, refuses to wrap a hand around your neck because he's so devoted to you the thought of hurting you scares him. Yet if you beg him nice and pretty he'll bend you in half, grunt in your ear about 'You're so tight, Mesh'la' and make sure you cum first before he finishes inside you
It brings him immense satisfaction to see you satisfied, blissed out on his bunk with his seed dripping from between your legs. There's a hand that soothes across your hip and his voice is muffled by the helmet as he asks 'You okay?' and you tell him yes, of course, better than okay. You're his, and when he takes such good care of you, is so devoted to you because he thinks he doesn't deserve something as good as you, you're perfect.
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as a historical fashion enjoyer the quarry's "1950s" DLC pack outfits are a bit 'modern people trying to put a vaguely '50s look together with modern clothes' looking to me (which may very well have been their intention!) but here's some ideas because i love to be extra:
emma inspired by casual marilyn monroe looks, but with a retro cheerleader ponytail. i liked the scarf idea but i thought her look read the least as 1950s with the colour choices and style of shirt/trousers. for abi i was looking at a picture of 1950s tomboy style with a bigger sweater and rolled up, masculine trousers. i thought as the artist she should have paint on her clothes, and her hair is curled tighter to look shorter and pinned with a barette. also for a 50s backpack, it should look like [this, probably with its own paint stains too.] for nick he's described as 'nerdy' so i added glasses (i think he had them in concept art too?) and leaned into that so he looks more like doody in grease live lol. the orange soda badge is a gift from a camper.
jacob can wear jeans tbh there should be more jeans idk why supermassive decided that ppl didn't wear jeans in the 1950s, especially elvis-loving teenagers. the classic white tee, jeans and converse look is great for him he just needs the proper 1950s elvis hair. for laura's again i was leaning into casual marilyn , (like i think supermassive were trying to do) just more dressed down than emma with rolled jeans. and she needed a hat! so i also put her hair down. max needs a proper short, gelled preppy hairdo. also i don't think he'd be in a full buttoned up collar and tie to drive down to summer camp, so i used the same-ish colour palette but gave him a flannel.
dylan's look was the most true to 1950s i'd say, so i just used a more exciting print for the shirt. i like the clashing patterns for him. ryan's was also not bad but has very little personality so i thought he could have more of that rebel vibe like again seen in some concept art for him. in the group livestream justice was talking about wanting to play a competent badass character anyway! for kaitlyn she's got the most tomboyish look of the gals, but i missed the colour in her outfit so she gets a fun shirt too. anyway, here they are!
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You've Got Mail AU, lay it on me
Brand new scene for you, TJ! (Prev You've Got Mail nonsense.)
If my WIPs were unionized, this one would've been loooong done. But they're not, unfortunately for them, and after like four days after talking about You've Got Mail-verse, I got talking about the Tam Lin AU, and we all know how that went.
The other snippets were silly, this one is a little sad:
It feels like another ending. Hob is sick of them. Morpheus’ face is perfectly expressionless. He can’t take it. Won’t. Wants to greedily keep this for just a little bit longer. He always does. Even when everybody else around him knows it’s over, there he is, holding on past decency and reason.
Morpheus is absurdly beautiful in the morning light.
Hob says what he’s been thinking for weeks now. “You know, sometimes I wonder if you came into my shop, and you hadn’t been Endless Books, and I hadn’t been The New Bookshop-”
“Then it wouldn’t have been your shop,” interrupts Morpheus.
“No,” he says. “I guess it wouldn’t be.”
Isn’t, now. In any case.
Morpheus catches the look on his face and takes pity on him. He’s kinder, Hob thinks, than anyone gives him credit for. Including himself. “A cafe, instead,” he offers.
“Or Shakespeare in the Park,” says Hob. He can picture it now.
Morpheus’ lip twitches up the way it does when he’s trying not to smile. “Yes. If we met at Shakespeare in the Park?”
“I would’ve offered you a spot on my blanket. And I would have hoped it would get cold or rain, so you would lean on me.”
Morpheus ducks his head, and Hob wants to seize his face, wants to thumb over those perfect cheekbones. Fist his hands in his shirt and not let go ever. “You would have forgotten your umbrella, of course,” says Morpheus, quietly.
“Of course. And the sky would have opened up until we had to hide under a tree.”
Morpheus looks up. “And then?”
“And then I would have found the courage to ask a beautiful stranger for his number, and I would have asked you out that very night. And if you’d said yes I’d have done it again and again. Every day, actually, for as long as we lived.”
“Hob,” says Morpheus. His eyes are bright.
“If we never came up against each other. If the only thing you ever took from me was the blankets at night.”
“We’d need to have two sets.”
Hob swallows hard. “Yeah. Yeah, we would.”
The sounds of the city lap up against them, but Hob feels like an island alone with Morpheus, standing together on his stoop. He hears the jingle of someone walking their dog past. A siren in the distance. And all he sees is Morpheus, the square of his shoulders, his jaw clenched.
“Morpheus-” he starts.
“Hob, how could you forgive him?” he asks roughly. “How on earth could you forgive this stranger for standing you up?”
“We all make mistakes.” Easily. I forgave him just as easily as I’d have forgiven you, if you had only let me.
Morpheus stares at him. “Yes. We do.” His mouth twists a little. “Some more than most, I would say.”
“Maybe. But people are almost always better than you’d think. Mistakes and all.”
“Ever the optimist.”
Hob presses his lips together in a smile. “Ever the cynic.”
“Go, Hob,” says Morpheus. “You’ll be late.”
He goes. It’s a beautiful day to meet his stranger. How can it feel like his heart is breaking, only now, only after everything, on the threshold of happiness?
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