#is this how the Americans feel?

[biropen]

MARCUS ARMSTRONF

FUCKING ROOKIE OF THE YEAR

[idontmindifuforgetme]

i don't think people really understand what's happening in gaza. with each passing day that sees more and more palestinians dead, it's becoming easier and easier for those in the west to perceive them as nothing more than a statistic. they might engage w the occasional palestine post, sure, but it's just as easy to scroll right past that moments later w no real outrage for the genocide retained.

it's vital to stay reminded that palestinians who are with us today won't be with us tomorrow. it's happening every second of every minute of every hour, and it's relentless. somewhere in gaza a little girl is losing her mother, a little boy is watching his siblings bleed to death, elderly people are infirm with starvation and illness, palestinian women and girls are being sexually assaulted and kept in cages, fathers are leaving tents to find food for their families and not coming back. this is all happening right now, and it's a direct result of the west's complacency. it's a direct result of their not seeing arabs as people worth saving.

it might be hard to compute as a westerner, but this is real. don't let your privilege blind you to your humanity.

[bellaciao-ciao-ciao]

[arsenicflame]

Bonus round! Do you use a queue tag?

[stellewriites]

johnny x fat!reader based off of this post i did a while back

cw: unprotected sex, minimal prep, kind of public sex, johnny’s a biter, fat fem reader. it’s just 2.5k of fucking like idk what to say

you winced as you read over the messages once more, feeling your stomach drop at the most recent one sent.

> who am i speaking to? i’d like to be able to make a complaint

you hesitated for a second, wondering if you’d get away with giving a coworker’s name, specifically claire, the coworker that always gave you shit on shift. but as much as the thought tickled you, you knew management would only figure out it was you when they realised claire wasn’t covering for you today.

you typed and sent back your name and apologised again, hoping he didn’t really want to send in a complaint for your slip up. you needed this job and it’d been hard enough to get it despite being over-qualified.

you knew you were a sort of diversity hire for the gym, every other worker there looked like they modelled for gymshark and liked to run a couple miles every morning before breakfast; whereas you cringed at the idea of the friction burn it’d inevitably cause between your thick thighs after the first five minutes.

the rest of the staff were nice enough, friendly; though a few of them couldn’t help but throw comments your way about your weight. it was something you’d had to develop a thick skin to after the first month working there, spending your lunch breaks or the drive home in tears, your self confidence the lowest it’d been since high school.

once you figured out how to let their shit roll off your back like water on a duck, it all became a hell of a lot easier again. though your confidence had taken a hit you were still recovering from. and your current dry spell in the bedroom hadn’t helped.

you worked behind the welcome desk, admin primarily but you covered the IT side of things too, what little there was of it.

the little local gym had started to gain a bit of traction online on social media and the owners had decided to exploit the opportunity and create workout clothes with the gym’s name and logo on it. regulars seemed to like it and people online had started buying when you’d posted that they’d get 20% off their next order if they posted online wearing and using the gym-wear.

it was all going great; you organised the orders and got them sent out on time, arranged any returns or customer service questions without a hitch.

or you did until today.

you’d just been taken aback when you saw the photo the customer - soap141 - had sent in. you’d typed without thinking and now? now you might lose your job because that customer looked to be about five seconds away from busting the seams on his workout vest.

and what a sight that would be.

shit, fuck. you needed to concentrate. it’s been far too long since you last hooked up with anyone and you were always too tired to deal with your pent up energy after work so it had… been a while. you were rightfully and understandably flustered at this photo.

you clicked back on the photo and bit your cheek as you zoomed in on his hands.

you closed the tab with a shake of your head, desperate to clear it, and started working on replying to the emails of the day.

you’d gotten through the majority of them when you were interrupted by a knock on the front desk gaining your attention.

it was just before lunch, and most newcomers either tended to start early morning or in the evening after work, and everyone else was able to go through with their membership qr code with no need to speak to you. this visit was unexpected and not in your usual routine.

you looked up at the unfairly handsome man before you and smiled.

“hi, can i help you?”

“i hope so, hen,” he said and his eyes dragged over your soft body appreciatively before landing on your name tag and growing sharp. “need to make a return, vest i got was too small. lass i spoke to online was, uhh, nae so helpful.”

you flushed.

the name badge pinned on your chest suddenly felt like it weighed a ton as you did you best not to let your eyes flicker down or you hand rise to cover it. he’d spotted it already, you could tell by his meanly satisfied look that was pinning you to your chair.

“i’m so so sorry, sir—.”

“johnny.”

“johnny. i can get that return sorted for you immediately,” you said, visibly flustered. he watched you for a moment, seeming to revel in your nervous energy until you sent a wide eyed, skittish look over your shoulder, hoping none of your co-workers were near by enough to overhear how much free merch you were about to offer for him to not make a complaint.

johnny however thought you were looking for a way out, a coworker to back you up.

“hey now, there’s no need t’make a scene, ey?” he interrupted, his head tilted to catch your eyes quicker when you turned back to face him. “i’m sure you can find a way to make it up to me.”

oh thank god, you were on the same page, he just wanted a fucking bribe. that you could do easily.

“of course, definitely. follow me,” you said and stood up. you waved him behind the desk and pointed to the storage room behind you. “i can process your refund before you leave, and you can have a look at the sizes of the other items we have in stock. maybe a free vest and t-shirt for all the trouble?”

he winced.

“that’s not exactly what i had in mind, bonnie.” he crept closer, his fingers dancing along the surface of the desk, playful in a way you couldn’t relate to at that moment. “was real unprofessional what you said, but i have something in mind that you can do for me that might get me to forget it ever happened. would take my mind off it, if you catch my drift.”

close enough to touch, he let his hand drift up to cheekily tug at the hem of your shirt, his fingers making light work of burrowing beneath to find your soft, warm skin.

“are you fucking with me?” you demanded after letting his words sit in the air for a moment, holding his wrist still. you’d been a bit forward on the chat, sure, but if he was going to be a prick about it you’d rather face the consequences with your managers instead.

his face grew serious for a moment, all teasing sharpness gone. “would never,” he said earnestly. you looked at him and saw the genuine arousal he held in the lick of his lips, the puffed up breadth of his chest; genuine unbridled want.

fuck it.

your own shoulders relaxed and you nodded.

“well, first thing we’re taught in retail is that the customer’s always right,” you said as you walked back towards the storage room, your eyes flickered to the gym behind you but no one was looking your way. you kept his hand at your waist so he followed closely. “maybe i could show you something more exclusive back here, you can try it on for size.”

“i think i already know it’s goin’ tae fit jus’ right,” johnny grinned and kicked the storage door closed behind him.

he hooked his fingers under your shirt, dragging it up until he could take in his fill of your thick waist, warm and malleable beneath his rough palms. he was none to gentle but determined in keeping you close. he dragged his nose down your cheek and breathed heavily for a moment as you clung to his biceps.

“what do you want?” you asked shakily. you’d experienced your fair share of one night stands but it’d been a while since someone had been so openly wanting with you, it left your hands a little jittery at how quick everything was moving.

“what are ya willing to give?” he shot back, letting a wet kiss land next to your ear.

“customer satisfaction is high on my list of priorities, i’ll have you know,” you hummed, trying to calm down and let yourself enjoy it.

johnny laughed, a little too loud for the small room, and pulled back enough to wiggle his eyebrows.

“ah bet it is,” he snickered. “but ye cannae deny that happy workers keep a place running, and i’m all about giving pretty workers their due benefits.”

he tugged at the waistband of your sports leggings, dropping to his knees so quickly you felt lightheaded at the sight.

“take tha’ off.” he nodded up to your rumpled shirt and you moved without hesitance despite the bright, unflattering light in the centre of the glorified cupboard. you shed your bra without waiting for instruction next, letting it drop to the floor where johnny had haphazardly piled your shoes and clothes. he was currently mesmerised by the hang of your belly, and the wobbling clench of your thighs as you shifted in front of him. he ran his hands and lips ever so lightly from your knee to your hip before baring his teeth.

“hey, no biting!” you were quick to say, your hands going to frame his face, fingers tilting up his jaw so you could both hold him back and make eye contact to show him you were serious. you had a feeling he was the type to push boundaries and ignore you if you weren’t careful.

“a’right hen, not this time,” he agreed and delicately kissed the stretch marks there instead and then turned to kiss one of your palms. once you’d let go, he stood and bent his head low to kiss and suck at your tits, his hands unable to stay still as he plucked at a nipple before it roamed further down to squeeze at your arse or rub at where the thin cotton of your knickers dug into your skin.

you tilted your head back and let him explore freely for a moment before a heavy hand was dragging you forward by the back of your neck and his lips found yours.

you keened into his mouth as he kissed you deeply; licked at his tongue and lips lazily in turn. you pulled back feeling throughly ravaged and yet barely touched.

“you’re staying clothed? that doesn’t seem fair.” you pouted as you looked down at the shirt you held in clenched fists.

“fuck fair,” he panted into your mouth, grinning. “but maybe if you ask nicely i’ll tek it off.”

“please?” you begged immediately, delighting in the surprise on his face. “please take it off, want to see you. please.”

he snorted, eyes blown wide and nodded.

“ok, pretty thing,” he said indulgently and made quick work of his shirt and trousers. you gawped at his bare, hairy chest and the swollen cock trapped in his boxers. “c’mere.”

he tugged you forward again and kissed down your chest, light presses of his lips to soften the scratching trail of his beard, before dropping to his knees. you leant back unsteadily against the small table you used to put orders together, crammed against the wall.

his eyes flickered up to yours and you recognised a flash of mischievousness a second before he lent in and bit at your plush hip. his hands squeezed at the fat of your thighs as you gasped out a sharp moan, he hissed as he let go when you pulled at his mohawk in shock and slight embarrassment.

“couldnae help it, hen,” he said with a dopey grin. he wrapped his hand around yours in his hair. “do that again though, yeah?”

you barely gave yourself a moment to recover or think too hard about his blatant disregard of your earlier wishes and instead tugged lightly, a little hesitant now that it wasn’t instinctual, at his hair. you were spurred on by the pleasured crease in his brow as he pulled down your knickers and his groan from both the hint of pain and the sight of you bare before him.

“think ye might just be made for me, such a perfect body and yer not so sweet as ye let on after all,” he mumbled. unceremoniously he sucked on two fingers before trailing them between your thighs, bullying your left leg up onto one burly arm so he could gain better access to your slick pussy. you tried to balance on one leg and less so on the table but the feeling of johnny’s tongue on your clit, lavving like a needy dog, had you slumping back.

he let out a heady groan at the taste of you and knew just what to do to keep you dripping like he had you on tap.

“remind me ta get yer number after this,” he panted, fingers stretching you quickly and clumsily.

his words were the final nail in the coffin that confirmed he wasn’t just fucking you for the shock value or to tell his friends there’s an easy fat girl that works at the gym. his attraction was genuine and he didn’t seem ashamed of that, was eager with it even.

showed it in the messy way he ate you out, licking between his fingers and lavishing in the wet, sticky noises he pulled from you; hidden only when either of you moaned too loud. you tried to hide it behind your hands but johnny seemed to pull back purposely to keep them loud when your nails scratched along his scalp.

it wasn’t enough to get off though, and he knew it, didn’t care actually as he had wasted no time once his third finger was fitting snug inside your cunt to pull them all back out, deeming you stretched and prepped enough.

he kissed you, too open mouthed and all tongue - far from the best kiss, but one you’d not soon forget - once he was stood up and turned you around so you could bend over the table.

“yeah?” he checked in quickly, freeing his cock and giving it a quick tug with his sticky fingers.

you nodded eagerly and reached back to hold one arse cheek to the side, letting him look at your holes from the back.

“fuck me,” he swore, whistling until you let go to swat at him with a laugh.

“my fucking co-workers,” you hissed, biting back a feral grin. the idea of them catching you now seemed less daunting than it had at the start, not when the promise of johnny’s cock was so close.

“if they haven’t heard us by now, bonnie…” he slapped your other cheek and bit his lip as it sent a ripple across your body. “beautiful.”

he tapped his cock at you pussy, hissing at the tease of the wet heat he was seconds away from.

“johnny,” you groaned out as he lingered.

you winced as he pushed in a moment later, just this side of too tight given the rushed prep but you whined through it until he bottomed out.

“perfect fit,” he hummed.

you felt every inch of him, only exacerbated when he leant forward to lean on your back, kissing at your neck.

“steamin’ jesus, i can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me,” he huffed. he ran a hand down your side before shifting, starting a steady pace he seemed to lose himself in as the pleasure your body brought him had him seeing stars.

you gasped at an especially hard thrust, your breath knocked out of you even as you felt yourself grow ever closer to your orgasm. you knew it’d be a doozy after going so long without, but as johnny’s spongy head knocked passed your g-spot like he was being paid to make you cum in under two minutes flat, you knew you weren’t going to be able to be quiet about it.

christ, it felt like he was nudging at your cervix, something you knew wasn’t true but the thought had you clenching and creaming around him either way.

“h-harder,” you whispered. “god, harder.”

johnny complied immediately, readjusting his grip on your hips to get better leverage to fuck into you harder and deeper.

“gonna cum already, hen, can feel you pulsing around me so good,” he warned.

“let me— i wanna, i want,” you struggled to get the words out but the thought of johnny leaving you high and dry after getting his own, when you were so close, had you panicking.

“i know, beautiful, don’t you worry. you’ll get yours,” he promised, hefting you both back a step from the table, just enough so he could slip his hand around and let his middle finger rest over your throbbing clit.

you tried to stifle your moan at the welcome and necessary attention and knew johnny was grinning like a mad man behind you.

“There you go, wanna hear you so bad, s’fucking hot,” he encouraged. “fuck yer coworkers.”

you rolled your hips along with his thrusts and steady pressure on your clit until you felt your vision white out and your cunt clench viciously. you felt johnny huff and slap his hips into your forgiving arse until he moaned, not at all muffled like yours had been.

he slumped over you, doing his best to balance on shaking arms so he didn’t crush you against the table.

“you tell your managers that this customer is definitely satisfied,” he said, eliciting an unattractive snort from you. you giggled as you lightly shrugged and batted him off until you were able to peel your sweaty skin from the table and stand back up straight, rubbing delicately at the imprint of the table that ran across your stomach.

he winced and ran a gentle palm across it alongside yours.

“wan’ me t’kiss it better?” he offered, the look in his eye only half as teasing as you were expecting.

without a care, he grabbed one of the shirts off the shelf and wiped you down, keeping his touches efficient and tender when they drifted between your legs.

he passed you your clothes, smiling at your shy thanks and busied himself with getting dressed as you struggled back into your own clothes.

it should’ve felt awkward walking out into the gym; you were almost certain your coworkers would be waiting outside ready to catch you, or worse some of the gym users. but johnny made it seem normal.

as you went to take your seat behind the desk he slapped your arse one last time, giving you a cheeky wink when you hissed at him.

“prick,” you huffed with a smile, rubbing at the smarting spot, but he only cooed and leant in to steal a chaste kiss before rounding back to stand in front of the desk.

he leant his hip against it as he looked down at you, suddenly shy when he held his phone out.

“only if ya want, hen. no pressure if this was just a one time thing.”

you glanced at his hopeful puppy-dog eyes and reached for the phone.

fuck it, maybe he could be your morning workout.

[lesbianwithchainsaws]

God its so depressing that almost all the posts I see on my dash right now are posts telling people not to kill themselves, trying to give advice to others on how to distract themselves for long enough to get the suicidal thoughts to not be in the forefront of their mind, posts trying to encourage people to keep living and keep trying. Like that's not fucking normal. Election results shouldn't have people contemplating suicide. This isn't normal

[capydoodle]

have compassion for yourself and for others. it seems hopeless but any small amount of good you can do is just that much more love in the world

[ghost-orion]

i love that viktor is czech i love everything about it. my favourtie is when jayvik people make him call jayce a "dobrý chlapec" because they used google translate i love you so much everybody.....

a little guide on calling jayce a "good boy" in czech: "dobrý chlapec" is kinda like calling him a "sensible young man" skjdfh. "dobrý" is a very literal translation of "good", its use is like "good day, everybody", not like "a well-behaved dog". "chlapec" is super formal, it's like how heimerdinger calls people "my boy", not like anything familial or intimate.

you might want to probably use "hodný kluk", literally translating to "kind boy" or "nice boy", closer to what we use for praise. (a more casual version is "hodnej kluk", as i can't imagine they'd use formal czech in the lanes.) he could even just say "hodný"/"hodnej", as we often use just the adjective for nicknames and such. (if you ever see a slavic character call someone "hey, [adjective] one!" that's what that is, english is weird with this aslkh)

that being said: there is nothing wrong with using google translate!!! it's incredibly sweet nonetheless, i really don't mind any mistakes ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ i grew up learning english in fandom so i know first hand how hard it is :]

[tapeworrmart]

Withnail and I is my fav end of Dec film. I did this art nearly 4 years ago.

[thankstothe]

[docjackal]

Just letting y'all know, 'cause I'm going through it myself:

If Neil Gaiman's work meant enough to you to where you feel gutted about all the horrible information that's come to light about him, it's absolutely okay to feel bad.

Don't let anyone shame you for mourning the loss of what someone meant to you if it comes out that they weren't who you thought they were. Yes, there is a level of being parasocial there, especially if that person is a celebrity or in the public eye, but if you feel some amount of bad that someone you liked--even on an impersonal level--turned out to be a bad person, then that's normal and okay.

He was my biggest inspiration as a writer and his work was a great comfort to me during my high school years.

As a fan who had hoped, until last year, to meet him and tell him how much his work meant to me, I'm just kind of in a weird sort of state of shock.

My therapist calls this sort of thing "mourning the person you thought you knew", cause it does feel like they died in a way. Hell, I dunno. It'd be easier to sort out my feelings if it was just that.

Regardless, what he did was vile and reprehensible, and I hope that the people he's hurt directly get whatever help and justice they can. They're the biggest victims in all of this of course, no one should be saying otherwise.

But it's okay to let fans feel upset about the loss of what he and his work meant to us too.

[inkskinned]

no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.

too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.

2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?

but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.

as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.

which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.

the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.

so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.

and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.

but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.

people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".

but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.

but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.

a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.

i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.

and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.

it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.

[an-ivy-covered-summer]

i know this will be a controversial statement for some people on this website, but you guys need to understand that being a radical communist with zero awareness of the nuance of living on planet earth is really not very different from being an alt-right extremist.

if you’re past the point of using logical thinking and understanding that societies and politics are complex and can be wildly different from one place to another, you’re just a fanatic, in spite of the place in the spectrum you place yourself on. you’re too swayed and brainwashed by propaganda. you’re just a blind fanatic, and your agenda becomes dangerous for real people living in the real world.

[the-kings-lost-things]

every time I listen to the httyd audiobooks narrated by david tennant I grow increasingly infuriated that dreamworks gave Hiccup an american accent in the films

[revindicatedbyhistory]

do anglos know wrt the malvinas situation that argentina was a neocolony of the uk for a good chunk of post independence history