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#it was set to EST
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Re-ri wears an unknown Meta apron skirt set in red x white..?
The example image is from this mercari sales listing. The lolita and kaneko items that this person is selling consist mostly of pieces that i’ve seen Re-ri wear, to the point that I wouldn’t be surprised if this was Re-ri herself selling her wardrobe.
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bericas · 10 months
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teen wolf scenes that make me remember they're teens: allisaac edition
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cranberrymoons · 8 months
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backseat love affair
prompt: high school or college au (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 1,000 exactly, according to wordcounter.net 😭 (one thing about me, you give me an upper limit of a thousand words, i will make sure i get there) rating: e (18+) cw: good old fashioned fuckin' in the backseat (semi-public sex) tags: flirting, car sex, riding
[read on ao3 or below]
They share an American Lit class. That’s how they meet.
They probably never would have met otherwise: it’s a big campus, and they run in different circles, but they do meet, sort of, in the sense that Steve gets distracted during discussion rounds from day one, watching the anxious fidget of the guy’s hands as he makes some point that Steve’s brain doesn’t even have space to process because his thoughts are just one big haze of clunky rings, tight jeans, doe eyes, sharp tongue, long fingers and –
And anyway.
It’s late one night a couple weeks into the semester before Steve sees him outside of class for the first time. It’s a Thursday, and the little corner bar where he bartends three nights a week is packed – like really fucking packed, he’s making money hand over fist even with the shitty single dollar tips people are coughing up – and he turns around after pouring a row of vodka cranberries, and there he is, shouldered in at the end of the bar.
It takes him a second to realize who he is out of context, without the frayed edges of a composition book or a bent paperback in his hands, without the travel mug of sugar-sweet coffee at his elbow. But it’s him, sure as anything: hair pulled on top of his head in the heat of the bar, incomprehensible band tee and a grin of his own overtaking his face as he stares at Steve, eyes traveling up his legs and over his chest.
“I got that one,” he says to Robin, whose turn it technically is. 
She casts a look in the direction of his eyeline as she pulls a beer, then rolls her eyes at him.
“You better not disappear just to suck dick again,” she says, loud enough to be heard over the thump of the bass, which means she’s also loud enough that all the people in their immediate vicinity hear, too. “We’re too busy for that shit tonight.”
“I won’t,” he says, dropping a dish towel over his shoulder. “As if I’d let you take all the tips.”
She gives him a sarcastic smile as she turns away in search of the next person who needs a drink, and Steve moves to the end where the guy is waiting. He bends forward from his side of the bar, leaning toward him with his elbows pressed against the sticky surface of it. He’s technically supposed to just lipread when it’s this loud in here, but –
“Hey,” he says, close to his ear. “Carson’s class, right? I’m Steve.”
“Eddie,” Eddie says. His eyes trail over Steve again, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Cute shorts.”
“Thanks,” Steve laughs. They were a pair of jeans that already made his ass look good even before he turned them into cutoffs. “They help with the tips.” He pops his hip out a little more, leaning into it. “What’ll it be?”
Eddie’s eyes draw back to his face slowly, teeth dragging over his bottom lip. “To drink, or…?”
Steve raises an eyebrow. “For now.”
An hour later, he’s on top of Eddie in the backseat of his car, bouncing on his cock with Eddie’s hands digging matching five-point bruises into his hips. His breath comes in a series of short, sharp gasps as Eddie’s hips thrust up to meet his, knocking him forward where he balances himself with a hand braced against the window, slipping down the glass to grip at the armrest on the door.
Eddie tilts his head up and licks into his mouth, hot breath panting out over his lips as he fucks up into him, hard and fast and –
Steve comes on a shout, knuckles clenching as it rolls down his spine, hands shaking as he threads his fingers through the wispy hair at the back of Eddie’s neck and kisses him, drawing his tongue into his mouth as Eddie holds him in place on top of his cock and thrusts up into him, chasing his own release.
The noise he makes as he stiffens and comes almost makes Steve want to go again.
He laughs, loose and boneless in Eddie’s lap, heart still beating wildly in his chest, and then he kisses him again, just because, slow and deep and licking at the backs of his teeth. Eddie chases after his mouth when he draws back, sitting up with him and slipping a hand down his back to press against the base of his spine, holding him close. The change in position shifts Eddie’s cock where it’s still buried inside him, and Steve inhales sharply, smiling against his mouth.
“Fuck,” Eddie gasps when it’s over. “Jesus Christ.”
“I know,” he says, ears ringing from the lingering noise of the bar and also the – “That was…”
“Yeah.” Eddie laughs too, wiping a hand over his face. “Yeah.”
Steve exhales heavily, shifting in his lap to pull off his cock, then he slumps back against the door on the opposite side, their legs overlapping, and they stay there for a long moment as they catch their breath in comfortable silence. At last, reluctantly, Steve takes a breath and says,
“I should get back.”
Eddie smiles, slow and sweet as he watches him fish around for his clothes. “Can I have your number before you go?”
Steve lifts his hips off the seat as he pulls his shorts back on, then tugs his shirt back over his head. He leans forward for another kiss, which draws out, Eddie’s tongue as distracting as all his other little fidgety movements. 
“Tomorrow,” Steve says, finally pulling himself away. “In class.”
When he gets back inside, clothes rumpled, red mark high on his throat, Robin glares at him. He laughs, still flushed, still buzzing, and rakes a hand back through his hair.
“I was on my break,” he says. “You can do whatever you want when you're on yours.”
“Whoever I want, more like.”
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tzurim · 2 years
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HOSEOK BTS 'Speak Yourself in Wembley' for @farascha
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rizwans · 10 months
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ia et rpg.
je suis ébahie de voir les gens qui créditent chatgpt dans le disclaimer de leurs forums. c’est un peu comme si vous passiez des avatars de votre créateur.ice préférée à la moulinette de midjourney (sans son consentement, évidemment) pour obtenir des avatars du même style et que vous créditiez l’algorithme. si vous utilisez chatgpt dans un contexte d’écriture créative, soit, c’est votre choix (but why... où le plaisir d’écrire là-dedans ?). mais s’il vous plaît, ne confondez pas crédits et disclaimer. vous devez prévenir vos utilisateurs du fait que le contenu a été rédigé par une IA, pas remercier chatgpt que vous venez de nourrir avec votre propre imagination et qui ne fait que régurgiter que la tambouille que vous lui avez servie. je n’écris pas ce message pour créer du drama, absolument pas ! je peux comprendre l’attrait d’un robot capable de rédiger le règlement du forum en genre 5 secondes (vraiment). mais dans un contexte où les artistes et les créateur.ices se font voler leurs créations sans leur consentement, où les scénaristes d’hollywood sont en grève pour obtenir des conditions de travail décentes, où marvel, une entreprise qui brassent des milliards de dollars, refuse de payer des artistes et assume complètement le fait d’outsourcer l’outro de secret invasion à une IA sous couvert du fait que ça “collait” au thème (il a bon dos, le thème), où des entreprises commencent à développer leur midjourney local pour se débarrasser des concept artists plutôt que d’améliorer les conditions de travail et payer des salaires décents à des gens qui ont des années d’expérience et de pratique derrière elleux, réfléchissons cinq secondes au véritable but des entreprises derrière ces IA : amasser le plus de data possible gratuitement pour ensuite revendre leurs services à des entreprises. pensez à tous ces personnes qui écrivent vos livres favoris, dessinent vos mangas préférés, produisent vos jeux vidéo cultes, remplacés par un bouton et un prompt de quelques mots. travaillant dans le jeu vidéo, je peux vous dire que c’est extrêmement réel. la place des créatifs.ves dans ce milieu a toujours été précaire, et elle vient de le devenir encore plus.  vous vous demandez sans doute en quoi ça concerne notre hobby ultra-niche et je ne suis peut-être qu’une vieille conne qui refuse d’entrer dans la modernité (mais je vais me donner le bénéfice du doute !). le rpg écrit est une expression artistique comme une autre. chaque rpgiste derrière son écran a son style et cherche à exprimer ou à explorer quelque chose avec ses personnages (un autre débat, sur lequel d’autres se sont exprimés ou s’exprimeront plus éloquemment que moi). pourquoi confier cette expression à une IA ? avons-nous si peu confiance en nos talents respectifs ? personnellement, je connais des plumes exceptionnelles. hilarantes. émouvantes. originales. fluides. brutales. parfois tout ça en même temps. des plumes qu’un tas de tech bros seraient ravis de pouvoir revendre et exploiter, sans payer un centime ni créditer une seule seconde. des plumes qui appartiennent à de vrais humains et qui devraient le rester, des plumes qui sont le témoignage, qu’importe l’échelle qui peut sembler dérisoire, de vos pensées, votre style, votre intelligence. trust your goddamn self. et personnellement, si c’est le fait d’écrire un règlement pour la 36ème fois qui fait chier (ce que je comprends tout à fait), je propose de contre-attaquer et de faire appel au pire cauchemar des capitalistes : l’open source décentralisé. je rédige le squelette d’un règlement, limite texte à trous, je le poste ici et vous pouvez le c/c à foison en y rajoutant ce que vous avez envie d’y rajouter. pareil pour ces textes génériques et chiants de demande de DC, de réservation, etc etc... si on s’y met tous.tes, on pourrait se créer une banque de documents où chacun.e peut piocher à son gré. c’est une oeuvre collective, commune et volontairement libre-service. on part du principe qu’on travaille tous.tes main dans la main pour se rendre un service commun, et on n’en parle plus, pas besoin de crédits.  ne sous-traitons pas notre imagination à des machines. nous méritons tous.tes mieux ! (ps. et je sais que ça peut sembler hypocrite de parler de vol quand le monde du rpg repose un entre-deux gris en ce qui concerne le droit à l’image. mais entre david et goliath...)
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sherifftillman · 11 months
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but baby, please don't bore me.
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yandere-daydreams · 9 months
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unholy union catboi with wings? Like a sphinx?
...check back into tonight, anon. will be kissing you on the mouth in the meantime.
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havendance · 26 days
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Recruiting characters because they're hot/have good stats/are your blorbo? Nah, that's for amateurs. The only real way to recruit students to join your house is carefully select characters that fill strategic political roles in the opposing houses so that when you depose of their leaders in the second half of the game you can set up a puppet governments susceptible to your interests.
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stephendorff · 11 months
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John Kinley and Ahmed (The Interpreter) II  The Covenant (2023)
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peaches2217 · 2 months
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Well, one piece of good news at least: I finally took the plunge and bought my first major perfume! I got a full-size bottle of Ganymede, which I’ve fallen head-over-heels for. I think I’m gonna name it my signature scent 🥰 when my tax return hits, I’ve got a few more I’d like to order as well; New York Nostalgia is the only one I’m 100% on. Beyond that, I’ve got so many I want and I can’t narrow it down… 😅
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francomontero · 1 year
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Mystery lolita-chan via this tumblr post wears unknown Marble jsk and bolero set
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whetstonefires · 11 months
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calling preferred pronouns a “stupid social protocol” is,,,, a take for sure
Yeah and honestly I think it's a very valid one for an autistic 16 year old who has exclusively had the concept explained by people inexplicably shouting at her about what an evil person she is because.
She asked someone how a mutual acquaintance was doing these days by the name and pronouns they used four months ago, when she last heard about them.
Rules are just. They're just rules. We make them up. We have to tell each other about them and navigate and negotiate and evolve them. There's gonna be access conflicts. People don't know your set of rules as a natural upwelling of inner virtue, that's not how culture or goodness or anything works. Queerness should not be about conformity.
Social constructs aren't. They aren't all that important.
You have to realize this if you want to liberate people to actually fuck freely with gender. You have to stop criminalizing and taxonomizing and demanding universal obedience to your particular principles. I am sick to death of shit like getting told by trans women that drag is transphobic and should be shamed.
If we enforce Virtuous Conduct by abusing people, we do not get an overall improvement in wellbeing. We get a lot of people keeping their heads down and obeying the New Rules with the same bitter helplessness they obeyed the first set of Arbitrary Gender Pronouncements they were raised into, and a bunch of unnecessary enemies.
Don't do that shit.
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likeadevils · 1 year
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docdalas · 8 months
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rdr oc • este
i wake in the night. i pace like a ghost.
the room is on fire, invisible smoke.
all of my enemies started out friends.
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mysticdoodlez · 6 months
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