#Shoppings

[lugaresinexistentes]

mercado ibirapura, shopping ibirapuera

são paulo, 1995

status: o shopping ainda existe, o mercado fechou (provavelmente no meio dos anos 2000?)

ele é um exemplo perfeito no brasil da estética específica festival marketplace, lá do site do cari, muito típica de mercados, praças de alimentação e shoppings nos anos 90.

encontrei no acervo do shopping ibirapuera no facebook

[lovewanttimetopause]

[ayo-edebiri]

#Elmo's so real

[suddenlysomewherethatsgreen]

[theartofmadeline]

happy pride! this dragon is gay <3

[zytes]

this manatee looks like it’s in a skyrim loading screen

[tired-and-swaggy]

know your history.

[io-lu-art]

A tale of Ba Sing Se.

[pseudonymjones]

[shiftythrifting]

My Little Pony book with a death spell inside. Yes, it most definitely came home with me

[lugaresinexistentes]

fantasy place, shopping market place

são paulo, 2003

status: inaugurado em 1995, fechou em 2006.

acervo pessoal

[foldingfittedsheets]

Every sales job I’ve worked has that one item. The white whale. The biggest ticket you can sell. The sale you brag about when you’re chatting with other industry people.

When I sold mattresses it was a split king adjustable base. That’s two twin extra long mattresses next to each other to make a king, but each side can move independently. They’re insanely expensive and honestly kind’ve impractical but it was the biggest ticket thing to sell.

When I sold sex toys though our white whale was the 20lb ass. It was a female pelvis, a cut out from the waist to the tops of the thighs. It was hyper realistic material and cost about $500. I definitely had bigger tickets but not in one item typically.

In my time at the sex shop, I sold three. Each time was completely different in terms of how the guy acted about buying it. The first man was a little embarrassed and shy about it. I was professional and supportive as I rang it up. Once I handed him the receipt he looked at the box. Then he looked at me.

If you’ve ever wondered how big a box has to be to fit a 20lb ass let me just tell you: it’s pretty damn big. It’s an uncomfortably large armful of box and every side has a picture of the sex toy inside on it. It’s not subtle.

“Could I get a bag….?”

There was no bag that existed that could possibly contain all that ass. “Hang on,” I told him.

I got scissors and tape and covered the box in cut up black bags. Looking relieved he picked up his purchase and left.

The next man to buy one carried it proudly to the counter; self assured and not embarrassed in the least. When I said I didn’t have a bag, but I could wrap it for him he gave a hearty shrug and hefted it into his arms, marching out the door with the butt on full display.

The last man to get one was just kind’ve an odd guy. Not creepy, but eccentric. We got along great, and as I rang him up I said, “Well one guy wanted his taped over, and one guy carried it out. What would you prefer?”

“There’s no bags?”

“No store bags. I think our jumbo trash bags in the back might fit it….?” It seemed rude to suggest putting a $500 item into a trash bag, but he wasn’t bothered.

He considered this then said, “Bring me the trash bag.”

When I delivered it to him he still managed to surprise me. Instead of shoving the huge box into it he opened the box. He took out his new $500 sex toy, and all the little things it came with, tipping them unceremoniously into the trash bag.

“There! Now I don’t have to deal with the box later!”

I was slightly stunned but agreed that I could easily deal with the trash. Then in a move I still think about with delight he flung the trash bag over his shoulder like a Santa with a sack full of ass and sauntered out the door.

If this or my other escapades made you laugh you could pop a tip into my Ko-fi! For more like this check my tag "ffs foibles".

[monstermonger]

Now the ash dances with the snow....

Lil winter dragon stickers ♡

[lazylittledragon]

some domestic shadowlachs <33

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

it’s easy to forget that satoru was rearranging your guts just 5 minutes ago when he’s sitting in front of you, looking like that.

clad in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, shirtless body exposed to gentle nip of the moonlight, snowy hair looking like it’s never seen a brush and crunching down on an apple like a little kid as if he wasn’t the one fucking you into oblivion in his bedroom that’s so conveniently next to the kitchen.

you play with the collar of his shirt he carefully put on you after you two were done and he meticulously cleaned up the mess he made from your body, promising to take a shower a little later because he was starving. you suspect that the promise of a shower “later” means satoru isn’t done just yet and the thought starts a fire in your tummy that threatens to spreads all over your body with every passing look at him.

and now you both are sitting in his kitchen, across from each other, with your bare legs thrown lazily over his lap(because he demanded you do that, craving any kind of physical contact he can get), and him feeding you clumsily cut pieces of green apple, ripe banana and kiwi that was a little too sour for your liking, but sweetened by the fact that satoru cut it for you.

satoru smiles so sweetly at you, looks so softly and touches so gently; a stark contrast to his hungry, insatiable even, demeanour he was showing just a little while ago. eager to touch, to claim, to torture with the prospect of a mind-blowing climax and the warmness of close proximity after. you’re mesmerised by him, by his duality.

and then he proceeds to ruin it when he asks “whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout? me??” with a mouth full and some spit landing on your chin, and you can’t stop the giggles that rise from your chest. he does ruin the magic of the moment you built inside your head, but not completely — he adds a part of his true self into it and makes it into something that’s out of your head. makes it real.