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."
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・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
choso kamo + make up sex ♡
★ cunnilingus as an apology, choso is an eater, bed humping, no power dynamics ★
✩∘₊ ✩*✯☆⃟⃟⃟✯*✩₊∘✩
choso doesn't get into arguments with you. he's always patient with you, staying quiet even when he knows you're wrong and fixing things behind your back to make sure you won't get upset. for you, he's willing to keep his temper under control. but that isn't to say he never slips
it's never intentional. but sometimes after a long day, his will crumbles and he accidentally lashes out. the harsh words taste like poison as he spits them, and when you mumble out a soft apology before slinking away instead of yelling back it's as if his heart is being torn out.
he always regrets it. emotions are still a bit hard on him, making him unable to find the right words no matter how hard he tries. but there is another way… and actions always speak louder than words, right? why would he spend days trying to come up with a semi-decent apology when he can say sorry and make both of you feel better at the same time?
eating you out all night long is just the sensible solution. it's what any rational person would do, curse or otherwise.
∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘
It's late when Choso slips into your shared bedroom. He had spent the last twenty minutes trying to make himself forget about the way he overreacted, cringing internally as the scene of him blowing up at you for the tiniest thing replays once more. Such a stupid thing to get upset over, yet he still made you get that sad look on your face and hole yourself up in the room. At least he has a foolproof method to make everything better.
He's always quiet at night, but when he's focused on making you feel good he practically goes non-verbal. Slender fingers pull back the blanket, massaging your thighs gently to gauge if you even want his touch. A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth when you spread your legs slightly, sitting up slightly to catch a glimpse of him.
“Relax.” The low voice is accompanied by a squeak of the mattress, the sound echoing through the room as he settles between your legs. “Let me make it up to you.” Choso pulls at your hands as he kisses up the soft skin of your thighs, squeezing them just hard enough to get your attention and placing them on his head. He's gentle yet firm in his actions, kissing and biting at it until your hips buck down towards him.
As if that wasn't enough to remind him just how much you love this position, the way your lacy panties start to dampen gives you away. He presses his lips to your puffy clit through your underwear, teasing you momentarily before pulling them to the side without a care.
Being face to face with your shiny cunt makes him feel dizzy. You smell like his favorite soap, filling his nose with floral sweetness and drawing him in more and more. It doesn't take long for him to commit fully and lean it, pressing sloppy kisses to your cunt.
He's always been a messy eater. Pressing his face into you, spreading your juices over his face without a care, and using his thumb to coax out even more of that sweet nectar. Those skilled hands know just how to make you feel good, thick tongue bullying its way inside of you and bringing you to the edge of orgasm in no time.
Choso clearly feels it too, his hips rolling against the rough mattress for friction and soft moans sending vibrations up your spine. “On my tongue.” He chants quietly, pulling your legs over his shoulder and burying himself against your soft pussy. “Want to taste you.” The precum making a stain in his pants doesn't matter. All he's focused on is when you finally let him hear that distinct whine he's blessed with every time he manages to push you over the edge.
That rough tongue eagerly laps up your cum, not wasting a drop even as you arch off the bed and squeeze his head with your thighs like you're trying to kill him. By the time you manage to catch your breath, Choso looks ruined. He rests his chin on your stomach with his ponytails barely holding up anymore, his face shining with the proof of your love and a pleased look on his face.
There's a moment of silence as you make eye contact, basking in the post-orgasm haze together before he lets his hair down and reorganizes it into a messy bun. His eyes return to your own, giving you a telling grin before he pulls your legs over his shoulders.
He still hasn't finished apologizing to you. It's a good thing the night is still young, isn't it?
・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
a/n: everytime I can talk about this man giving head I will... you don't understand how special he is to me :333 // next fic will be up next week, a fun little multipost ive had on the brain
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one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.
one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.
i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.
the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.
my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.
i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.
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