#like they ATE

[snowyroads]

oh these are my new favorites 🥰

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[naomistares]

caught up with farcille lore i am back

[notherpuppet]

Morning After

Part 2/4

Part 1 | Part 3

[thatscreamingrat]

it's READY! :')

[mimiminerva]

pretty boy - josh futturman x reader <3

going back in time was weird. granted, everything was weird. but seeing your boyfriend in women’s lingerie? weird. but also weirdly sexy.

content warning: 18+!!!, oral (male receiving), praise kink, hair pulling, a bit of choking. josh wearing lingerie in that one episode has me in a chokehold. not proofread so just ignore any mistakes lol

“fuck it, i’ll do it,” you grab the bag off of the asphalt, exactly where tiger dropped it to chase down wolf.

the bag was filled to the brim with silky robes and lacy panties, corsets and garters that would dress your curves perfectly. josh grabbed the bag out of your hands, a mortified expression on his face as he exclaims, “no! no, you can’t, that’s… no, no way.”

your lips curl into a frown. “josh. it’s for the future.”

“wh-f-fuck the future! no! you’re not… i’m… let me do it. i’ll do it.” your boyfriend’s face contorted into a conflicted expression. he looked into the bag, at the lingerie. his lips pressed into a thin line, an evident sign of a thought process emerging from his brain. he finally looked up, putting his hands on your shoulders. “i’ll be right back. love you.” he pressed a kiss to your cheek, before dashing off behind a bush and behind kronish’s house. you just watched, left standing on the sidewalk with an exasperated expression.

would that shit even fit on him? he did have a thin waist. sure, most of your clothes fit him. but he had never worn your lingerie, or underwear, or bras. although the thought of your boyfriend wearing lingerie was… exciting, in a strange way.

-

after what seemed like a million different people running into kronish’s house, tiger being one of them, josh finally ran out.

wearing… a set of silky lingerie.

“josh?” you couldn’t help but stare at the man in front of you. he was wide-eyed, sweat clinging to his forehead, his hair messy, as though he had been jumping through windows or crawling around on all fours. best of all, a shade of coral lipstick was smeared across his lips, smudged across his chin.

he smiled, a fleck of lipstick on his front tooth. “we gotta go, i can’t be seen wearing this,” josh huffs, reaching to your shoulders, an attempt to take your jacket off.

a familiar warmth stirred in your belly as your eyes lingered onto his body, a corset clinging to his chest and a pair of leopard-print panties, making his bulge very prominent, as well as thigh garters hugging his legs. a feather boa was draped around his neck. and fuck, he looked delicious.

“uh.. what?” he looked at your strange expression. your cheeks were lit a flame, your pupils blown, and your mouth suddenly dry, along with a fluttering sensation in your lower stomach.

you stared a moment longer, causing heat to erupt into his face, a blush spreading all over his pale body. “wh-what?” he looked like a deer in headlines, his sweet brown eyes wide, his hands fluttering over his crotch almost self-consciously.

you snap out of your lustful fog, shaking your head with a comforting grin. “no, no, you, uh- you look good! uh, too good. hot. fuck, we have to get you in different clothes, i think i’ll actually have a conniption.” you shed your jacket, throwing it around his shoulders with one last glimpse at his body, soft and kissable, wrapped like a christmas present.

“what?” your boyfriend was dumbfounded, but you could see his pupils blow with the realization that you were into this. he stuttered, “yo-you what? you mean, you’re, like… turned on, right now?”

you grab his hand, hastily pulling him down the sidewalk. he struggled to keep up with your stride, his breathing growing heavier by the moment.

“you’re seriously, like, you’re into this? right now?” josh stutters, trying not to overthink, his eyes fixated on the ways your hips moved in front of him.

“how—how could i not be?” you scoff, practically sprinting towards the futturman house.

“slow down, i-it’s hard to.. fuck,” josh kicked off his heels and began running barefoot behind you.

-

“god, why do you look so good?” you grumbled, helping him into the window of his—or, his uncle barry’s—room. you climbed in behind him, tumbling onto the floor.

josh’s cheeks were bright red, nearly the color of the lipstick that smudged across his lips to his cheek. “i-i didn’t know you were into this kind of thing,” he stammered, holding his hands out to help you stand, like the gentleman he is.

however, as you looked up to grab onto his hand, you were met with the mouth-watering sight of his half-hardened cock pressing against his leopard print panties, a wet patch along his tip.

suddenly, you didn’t feel like getting off the ground anymore.

“you like seeing me like this, don’t you? god, you look so fucking pretty, josh,” you murmur, hands on his knees, trailing your fingertips up his thighs.

josh’s legs trembled under your touch, as sensitive as he always was. “i-ah… yes, yes…”

you hooked your finger under the garter belt, pulling the elastic band back and letting it slap against his thigh, eliciting a soft gasp from your boyfriend.

“please,” josh whimpered, his cock now fully hard in a pair of panties that could barely contain his excitement.

you shift closer, sitting up on your knees and looking up at him. his big, brown eyes were wide, eyebrows knit together and lips slightly parted. you stared into his doe-like eyes as you drag his panties down to his ankles, only breaking eye contact to look at the throbbing, leaking cock in front of you.

you’d never get tired of seeing josh like this—and you’d certainly never seen a prettier cock than his. his tip was flushed a beautiful shade of pink, weeping precum, dripping down to the veins that adorned his shaft. another throb of arousal shot through you at the sight.

“oh, f—oh, my god, please,” josh whined, his hands pulling your hair out of your face, “need you—s-so bad…”

“be patient, pretty boy,” you murmur, dragging your tongue along the inside of his thighs, eliciting a sharp gasp from him.

you pressed a series of open-mouthed kisses to his thighs, leaving a trail of hickeys only for you to see, before finally dragging your tongue against his heavy balls, grazing the underside of his cock before reaching his tip, tongue swirling the drop of precum that seeped from his slit.

“oh, mmph—oh, y-yes—“ josh released a series of gratifying moans, his fingers curling in your hair so tightly that it invoked a stinging sensation along your scalp. “feels… so good, oh, god… doing so g-good…”

your mouth enclosed around his tip, tongue along the underside of his shaft, encompassing his dick completely into your warm, wet mouth, until your nose was buried in his tuft of public hair and his tip prodded at the back of your throat.

his lips parted to an O shape, his thighs trembling as he tried desperately not to buck into your mouth.

“mmm…” you hummed against him, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure through josh’s veins. your hand teased his balls, gently caressing them as you bobbed your head back at a mind-numbing pace.

your name fell from josh’s pretty red lips, a string of praises following, his hands still tightly wrapped in your hair as he guided your mouth, careful not to gag you.

he was so considerate, even when his cock was stuffed in your mouth.

“soo—so good, fuck,” josh cried, his bottom lip catching between his teeth as his glassy eyes watched you with blown pupils.

you hummed again, allowing him to push your mouth down and back up, pulling your hair just enough to send goosebumps along your skin. your pace gradually increased, bobbing along with the rhythm he created, every movement causing a whine or a whimper from josh.

“i’m close, fuck, can i…? i—mmm, oh, god, let me cum in your throat, please,” he cried, his stomach contracting and his cock throbbing in your mouth. his legs stuttered, hips beginning to twitch and shudder, meeting your mouth half-way with sloppy thrusts.

“mm—mhm,” was the only response you could muster, drool dribbling down your lip and down your chin.

the vibration of your voice only amplified his orgasm, causing him to push your head against his cock, messily fucking into your mouth as his dick twitched, releasing spurts of hot cum down your throat, choking and gagging you.

“so—sorry, i’m-im so—oo sorry, mmmphh!” josh moaned, eyes rolling back as he choked you against his cock before pulling out, tip still seeping cum onto your chin, a string of semen connecting his slit to your lips.

you gasped for air, swallowing and taking deep breaths, hands holding onto his thighs for support.

“holy—shit, a-are okay? oh, god, i’m sorry, it just—f-felt so good,” josh knelt down, his hands wiping away the sweat on your forehead. his fingers were shaky as he tried to clean your face, eyes wide with worry and cheeks flush from his orgasm.

“i’m—fine…” you breathed, nodding before raising your hand to his cheek, thumb swiping at the smudge of lipstick, “you’re… so hot.”

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Local idiot absolutely destroys his twin brother

⚠️ Do not try this at home❗️⁉️

[insomniphic]

Telemachus doesn't want his cool and awesome hero dad to realize he's a boy-failure LMAO

[yomeiu]

i haven't fulfilled my promise yet to use you as my dog!

redraw!

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[garbean]

I love dunmeshi for the like.. built in horror of consumption. Like they eat to survive, they eat to honor their prey, they eat to possibly mourn someone. Laios eats monsters because he wants to learn more about the things he loves, Senshi eats monsters to feel included in the ecosystem because he didn't fit in with the outside and with most creatures in general, Chilchuck DOESN'T eat as much as he could because eating too much could kill all the party members, Marcille eats monsters and hates it but she still does it because she'll die before she could save Falin.

[eggsistential-breakdown]

[chubbychiquita]

[sealsdaily]

Today's Seal Is: Baseball Bat

[foldingfittedsheets]

I think it was about a month into dating my betrothed that I first turned to them and said, “You smell hungry, want to get some lunch?”

“I what? I smell hungry?”

“Yeah, like, the empty smell. Aren’t you hungry?”

They were, but it was hard for them to accept smelling a state of being. After a few weeks of me pointing it out right before they realized it themself though they asked, “What does hunger smell like?”

“Bad.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“It’s like… an emptiness that goes past the mouth? Bad breath is more upfront but hunger is like you’re smelling stomach acid, it’s all the way from an empty belly.”

They started smelling my mouth in exaggerated silly fashion but eventually they did start to recognize it.

They’re now very smug when they get to use the skill back at me and inform me that I’m hungry.

[hyolks]

i still cant believe they ate his goddamn boot