Interesting Times

I feel like these should all go without saying, but I live in fascist America: black lives matter, trans rights are human rights, free Gaza, punch Nazis, and resist fascism.

[crabussy]

you are alive on a planet with insects and whales and diatoms and mycelium networks and puppies and your human friends. literally so awesome to be a living thing

[jeffgerstmann]

If someone jerks me off with a puppet it counts as a threesome, right?

read your bible

[marsixm]

thanks!

[inkcapcreature]

Made a little comic about my eridian Oc :-]

[manyblinkinglights]

The idea of them adding rain and Dr Grace immediately disliking it and going inside is just so tasty. On an animal level the biodome team are simply not pleased that he displays an aversive response!! AND YET this is precisely the whole deal with rain... even if they know that and the experience coordinator appreciates the extra tool to encourage him to move through different areas and spend his time in different places... it's just inarguably annoying to see Dr Grace squint and hunch in your PRECIOUS RAIN.

[muirin007]

This is one of the funniest scenes in gothic literature and the fact that this is verbatim from the novel is incredibly underrated.

[shinraalpha]

titanic Wreckage perfec t size for put trillionaire in to n\ap! inside very Cool and Meme trillionaire look so sick put trillionaore in Titanic Wreckage. Put Trillionaore In Titanic Wreckage. no problems ever in titanicc wreckage because good Shape and Support for trillionaire ti visit in little snubmarine. Thetitanic Wreckage yes a place for a trillionaire put trillionaire in titanic wreckage can trust Mad Catz xbox controller for giveing good submarine control to trillionaire. friend titanic wreckage

[plaguedocboi]

I remember when I was younger, anytime I watched a movie where the characters have to kill a scary monster/alien, I always thought the act of killing it was intended to be part of the horror. Like there’s this amazing creature that we’ve never seen before, and maybe under different circumstances we could’ve coexisted with it, but it’s trying to attack you and you have to defend yourself, but by destroying it you also destroy the ability to ever understand it and that’s sad and is supposed to make you feel conflicted.

It was not until well into my adulthood that I realized most people do not have complicated feelings about movies where people have to kill a scary alien monster, nor is that necessarily meant to be part of the narrative (unless it very obviously is). They just want the scary thing to die because it’s scary. I don’t have a real conclusion to this I just started thinking about it for some reason.

[hppjmxrgosg]

"going out to get milk" is a common turn of phrase used to describe a man abandoning his family.

the "milkman" is a common figure in stories depicting a woman's infidelity and adulterous affair.

this implies that the ability to provide milk would both decrease the likelihood of a man abandoning his wife and children, as it would eliminate the need for leaving to get milk AND would secure that man's marriage, as his wife would have no need to seek milk from an extraneous source.

therefore, all men should produce milk, through various means such as:

- being a cow

- being an almond

- being a woman

- being a coconut

- being in the omegaverse

- being an oat

(list is exemplary and not finite)

in this essay, i will redefine the nuclear family and explain the seductive and inflammatory nature of the 1993 "Got Milk?" commercials.

[hppjmxrgosg]

you shut your mouth.

[mintmatcha]

love arranged marriage unfortunately. the idea of being married to a knight who's not even in the city, but away on the front lines. it's a benefit for your family, so they dont even question sending you to his home to await his return...

[mintmatcha]

you meet him three months into the arrangement. He arrives after the sun has already set, his features set strong in the candlelight. His body is heavy with exhaustion and tension, his eyes dull and tired.

you've grown to hate this place, this castle gifted to him for war victories. The halls are barren, the garden yet to bloom. The maids are pleasant, but they keep their distance, as if you'll strike. Maybe your husband is the kind to hit. You wouldn't know.

When he looks at you, it's only in short bursts, his eyes suddenly low. There's a long stretch of silence between you and you consider introducing yourself, but decide against it. He knows who you are.

"The maid is drawing me a bath," he says suddenly and a sick feeling pours over you. This day was always coming, but you aren't sure you're ready to lay under a stranger.

"Am I expected to join?" you ask and his nose crinkles.

"No." He steps back and away. His departure is brisk and driven. You retire for the night by yourself and awake alone. Your husband is set to leave again in a few hours; a few soldiers have already gathered in the front garden.

"Don't you wish to give your new wife a goodbye?" one asks, unaware of your open window. "One night and you've already had your fill? Or has she been filled too much?"

"I refuse to believe she is real!" says another. "What kind of woman has worn down our brute and turned him into a family man? Should we expect a gaggle of children in the upcoming year?"

Your husband growls. "You will leave the poor lamb alone. She suffers enough."

That softens you. Just a bit. You rise from you bed and go to the window, leaning out enough to catch the men's attention.

"Until next time."

He watches you, expression caught between more emotions that you can count, then turns his gaze back to his mount. The two men share a look, wide, wide grins on their faces.

"Until next time," he repeats back.

[mintmatcha]

In his absence, he sends gifts. They are tiny things, sweets and oiled combs and scented oils and a porcelain figure of a cat, aimless in their direction towards you. Just simple niceties he could give to any woman in the world. You imagine he sends one to the lovers he has in every city as well.

(he must have lovers, you imagine. He hasn't touched you; he must be getting his fill with women in other cities, maybe women he actually loves. these are trinkets to keep his wife amused while she wastes away.)

none of the gifts come with a note.

one day a bolt of fabric arrives, yellow and ornate. It's only a small amount, not enough to make a dress, but enough for you to unravel and admire. It's beautiful and clearly expensive, golden threads woven into flowers and vines. Your father was a silk merchant; while you never wore the silks, you can recognize their quality.

the following week, the delicious man rides up on his steeds and presents a letter. The handwriting is rough. Knights that come from the lower class do not have the schooling of highborns; as fair as you know, your husband was born a street rat and worked his way theough the ranks to glory.

-I have been told by my secund that I did not send you enuf fabric for a gown. I do not no these things.

The spelling mistakes screw a smile out of you.

"Wait a moment." You stop the boy before he can leave. "I wish to send something back."

You take your time and use your finest calligraphy, tucking your note in with a handkerchief you had spent the week on. It's fine work-- one that would please even the hardest of hearts.

-Dearest husband,

Please take this handkerchief as a sign of my thoughts.

Your patient and thoughtful wife

A second letter arrives within the week.

-are you cros with me? A scrap of fabric for a scrap of fabric?

The response is what makes you cross. The poor messenger boy has to stay the night while you percolate over a response.

-Dearest, sweetest husband,

A handkerchief is a traditional gesture of affection. I have embroidered the edges by hand, with your family name and your roses, and it smells of my perfume. It is a piece of me for you to carry. If you do not appreciate my kindness or if you think it will turn away your lovers, you may return it. I do not wish it wasted on you.

Your less than patient and less than adoring wife

The poor boy scatters off in the morning and returns a few days later.

tortured wife,

I wil cherish it. I am sory, pour lam. I wil do better.

your loving husband

[ghiblin]

THE SECRET WORLD OF ARRIETTY 2010, dir. Hiromasa Yonebayashi

[loveridden1999]

problematic sudoku solving skills gap

[featuringmarkhoppus]

[wingsofahoneybee]

they're like bugs to me

[artemissoftstepper]

sunlight: kills everyone (eventually)

crosses: kills everyone (with enough force)

stakes: kills everyone

vampires are just normal people.

[hopeless-eccentric]

humiliating to be attracted to a conventionally attractive person. I thought I was a more sensitive and refined pervert than this

[chewedcorn]

Map of the US by a truck driver who has seen most of it…

[54viruses]

This is DEFINITELY someone I call an expert.

[drtanner]

I’m desperate to know who Gary is. So I can also avoid him.

[aro-ace-from-outer-space22]

Good 2 kno-esp abt Gary. I was not planning to ever visit Indiana, but now I know especially where to avoid

[everything-but-the-not-natural]

PNW is very accurate, it does rain a lot here and Eastern Washington is the highest producers of Apples in the country. They do a lot of peaches and cherries too

[dailycatsblog]

[pangur-and-grim]

someone accused me of feigning a sexual attraction to spiders for clout. there's easier ways to get clout, man.....

[pangur-and-grim]

[paper-mache-stars]

been thinking about grace and adrian being alike