#this out

[perbrusees]

Feeling out of place

[equal-pay]

PSG need to fire this coach immediately. This is NOT how you touch a player or any woman.

Trigger warning for this video for inappropriate touching.

Video source here

[thewomenofwindsor]

The Duchess of Cambridge.

[coldlakewater]

(The Poem at the end is I Am Not Yours by Sara Teasdale)

He didn't know what he expected with the kiss. The universe didn't change; the sun didn't shine any brighter; there were no doves or fireworks, nor did a choir start singing. It was just... right. It felt like an injustice to every poetic figure in Nursey's life. All the cliche metaphors, figurative language spilling together for the symbolism of love, were for naught. All there was was his heart was hammering in his chest; the feeling of Dex’s lips pressed against his own. Dex was a solid weight against him, one he never wanted to let go of.

"Derek?"

The words filtered through to him as if they weren't spoken against his lips, their breaths mingling as he found his own. Derek could scream poetry from the rooftops of what William Pointdexter's voice symbolized, of the constellations that lived within his skin, how every autumn leaf still does no justice to his eyes, but none of those could come to mind, he was so stuck. Nothing would express this. Dex was so beautiful. He was so fucking beautiful, Derek was helpless to do anything but stare. His hair, his eyes, his smile, everything so profoundly him. He wasn't a line or stanza of poetry. He wasn't even a fucking book. No amount of words would ever eloquently represent Dex on paper. That terrified something deep inside of Nursey; the part of him that relied so heavily on words to work out the world to his liking. William was so much more than he would ever be able to express. He’d likely spend forever trying.

His grip on Dex's arm tightened when he felt him start to move away, to erase any doubt, any lingering evidence that might have proved that this was not a moment he'd be completely content with living in for the rest of forever. "William Pointdexter, you've just changed everything," he said. Dex only rolled his eyes. Before he could say anything on it, Nursey pulled him into another kiss. There would be time for questions and realizations and the fumbling creation of them as a unit later, but for now… Oh plunge me deep in love - put out

My senses, leave me deaf and blind,

Swept by the tempest of your love,

A taper in the rushing wind. 

[fuckrealityfictionisbetter]

Quick thing on why white privileged is real

We put in place laws to stop poc from freedom

Then on where poc can live

Where poc can work

What schools poc can go to

The first black girl to go to a white school in America is still alive, she’s not even that old it wasn’t that long ago

Then once the laws were out people took it apon themselfs, denied giving jobs, denied housing, bullied and harassed at schools

And with the terrible education due to the lack of funding of black schools how did u expect black people to suddenly get high paying jobs

That all wasn’t very long ago

But there’s still gerrymandering to stop black peoples getting their votes counted correctly,  predominantly black schools are still under funded, black peoples aren’t getting the medical care in hospitals they need and we are killing, arresting and denying education to black children for no reason other then racism

So no it isn’t just a classism thing, and you denying that white privileged is real after everything we’ve done and are still doing is contributing to the racism in our society

[poke-dweller]

Title, if I want one.

I am free. Mentally, emotionally and physically. I spent two years with a person who held me captive. Who I let humiliate me, degrade me, hurt me. I let this person into my life, and all they did was destroy it. All I did was try to make them happy. But he was only content. I was never enough for myself, but being with this person made me feel like I was less than that.

The only way I was able to finally leave him was because he became mentally ill. With drugs and alcohol and an already chemically imbalanced brain, he went crazy. And he pinned me down, slapped me multiple times. Choked me, dug his fists into my sides until they hurt. Threatened to hurt me with fists while he used an open hand. It felt like hours, but it was shorter than that. I can still remember seeing my face in the bathroom mirror when he finally stopped. How swollen my left cheek was. How the bruise above my left eye was forming. I’ve never felt so much pain and fear.

I hate that I became dependent on this person. I hate that I wasn’t strong. I hate that I let myself wither and fade away. But most of all, I hate him.

[the--scavenger]

| Starter for @anammxlech |

     In the dead of night the scraping sound of a fork against the inside of a tin can could be heard from behind a couple of garbage cans as the scavenger was working on his second can of food. Leaning against a brick wall, the dim light from his oil lantern illuminating the spot just enough for him to see what he was doing; no need to burn more fuel then necessary.

     Despite that he was enjoying the meal many other people would likely consider to be mediocre, it didn’t keep him from paying attention to his surroundings, specifically the sound of someone near and their scent; it was the faint smell of something burnt which gave him a good idea of who it was, as he’d only known one person with that scent.

     Reaching into his coat, he produced another tin can of food which, like all the others, had the label torn off, and reached out to place it on the ground a few feet in front of him as though to offer it to Annie; it was a sort of peace offering of sorts as he didn’t really know the odd woman yet.

“Whudya wunt?” 

     He asked, curious for her reason to be here.