love when men cry about body hair bc "it's hygiene" and yet 15% of cis men leave the bathroom without washing their hands at all and an additional 35% only just wet their hands without using soap. that is nearly half of all men. that means statistically you have probably shaken hands with or been in direct contact with one of these people.
love when men say that women "only want money" when it turns out that even in equal-earning homes, women are actually adding caregiver burdens and housework from previous years, whereas men have been expanding leisure time and hobbies. in equal-earning households, men spend an average of 3.5 hours extra in leisure time per week, which is 182 hours per year - a little over a week of paid vacation time that the other partner does not receive. kinda sounds like he wants her money.
love that men have decided women are frail and weak and annoying when we scream in surprise but it turns out it's actually women who are more reliable in an emergency because men need to be convinced to actually take action and respond to the threat. like, actually, for-real: men experience such a strong sense of pride about their pre-supposed abilities that it gets them and their families killed. they are so used to dismissing women that it literally kills them.
love it. told my father this and he said there's lies, damned lies, and statistics. a year ago i tried to get him to evacuate the house during a flash flood. he ignored me and got injured. he has told me, laughing, that he never washes his hands. he has said in the last week that women are just happier when we're cooking or cleaning.
maybe i'm overly nostalgic. but it didn't used to feel so fucking bleak. it used to feel like at least a little shameful to consider women to be sheep. it just feels like the earth is round and we are still having conversations about it being flat - except these conversations are about the most obvious forms of patriarchy. like, we know about this stuff. we've known since well before the 50's.
recently andrew tate tried to justify cheating on his partner as being the "male prerogative." i don't know what the prerogative for the rest of us would be. just sitting at home, watching the slow erosion of our humanity.
5K notes
·
View notes
codtwt is going off on brainwashed!soap bc of his new warzone skin and it’s making me think of ghost deliberately getting himself captured by makarov bc he knows he’ll be given to his dog to try and break him; knows he won’t be able to resist the irony, the cruelty of being tortured by the teammate he lost
he doesn’t fight; welcomes the chains around his wrists and ankles, welcomes the hands stripping him of his weapons and gear until he's defenceless
he wouldn't use them anyway
when he stalks into the room, the muzzle, the scars, not even the blank hatred or lack of recognition could make him mistake his eyes
that's his johnny
he doesn't flinch as he digs knives into his skin; would never shy away from his kiss even if it's tinged with rusted steel. doesn't swallow his screams; not when he always loved hearing him, when he spent so long coaxing his voice from the grave
frustration joins the anger in johnny's eyes the longer he goes without giving up information
just jokes; dark and puns alike
just advice when he can't get the jumper cables to spark right
ghost's not trying to escape; not trying to barter his return to the 141
he's right where he wants to be
433 notes
·
View notes
Shoutout to Magic for taking "Watson equivalent who was a former assassin of some kind" and ascending it to "Watson equivalent who is still an active assassin, not even on the side, like being a detective's assistant is their side job"
Proft: "He's covered his tracks well. He's definitely our culprit, but with all the physical evidence destroyed we'll never be able to prove it to the courts."
Etrata: "...So like, does that mean I'm fine to... you know..."
Proft: *sighs* "...Just please tell me you're being paid by someone else to do it."
Etrata: "Oh they gave me the contract like halfway through the investigation. I was just waiting to see if we could get him in custody first."
403 notes
·
View notes
Prompt 299
Hear me out- Ghosts have wings. They have wings, which are affected by their cores, and can make them disappear from sight if they want or need to. You got that? Good.
Ecto-contaminated people? Don’t have wings. Liminals and Halfas, who have developed cores? Do have wings, and they can’t hide said wings, because unlike ghosts? Their bodies are physical living flesh.
Now Gotham? Ecto-contaminated, there’s no doubt about it. The amount of portals that have been opened there and death pits and death cults… yeah it’d be surprising if it wasn’t. But again, no one really notices, because at most? Most just get a bit of eyeshine.
The Bats however? Oh man are they freaking out when they wake up with aches in their back and feathers starting to poke through their skin. Curse? Nope! Welcome to Liminality, enjoy the second puberty of wings, emotion-sharing, fangs, claws, and whatever else you might develop- also enjoy the whole eating fear thing. (Wait, the what-)
278 notes
·
View notes
It be so funny if they took Joan to soccer game and put her either in the team colour or a cheerleading outfit.
Great minds think alike because I was just thinking that we having checked in with Joan in a while so this problem is perfect.
Every Saturday for over a month now, Joan has watched the humans and Ozzy leave the house in the morning and come back hours later loud, smelly, and energized. She does not have a problem with this per se but if she had eyebrows, she’d raise one of them. She would raise the other when they’re all too tired to play with her for too long after they come back.
So, Joan makes a decision.
When the next Saturday rolls around and Steve is digging around in the drier for his jersey, she makes her case known. She whines. She meows. She gets in the way of every step. She commits a drive-by biting. She even gets in the storage closet in the hallway and knocks over the dreaded cat stroller so it falls into the hallway.
She makes it very clear. She wants to go.
Eddie coos at her, “Awe, baby, she feels left out. Let’s take her.”
“Ed, it’s hot outside,” Steve replies, gesturing to Joan. She rubs her head against his leg. “She’s gray.”
“Steve, don’t be racist.”
“I’m not being – how is that –“ Steve sputters and then rambles on about tiny bodies, and fur, and overheating in the sun, but Joan already knows she got her way. Steve can’t say no to Eddie and he can’t say no to her either. Plus, she always gets her way.
Her way is the right way.
Steve sighs and gives in, “But if she gets too hot, you have to take her home.”
As a reward for Steve and Eddie’s good decision-making, Joan helps them get ready to leave. She wiggles her way into the cabinet with the first-aid kit and pulls out bandaids. She leaves them inside Steve’s cleats. He says thank you when he finds them.
Ozzy huffs from where he’s laying in his dog bed.
Joan purrs when Steve pets her head.
Since Eddie disappeared down into his studio the moment Steve agreed to let her come, Joan continues ‘helping Steve.’ Mainly, she cleans up (eats) all the scraps of lunchmeat he drops when making sandwiches for him, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy.
Eddie immerges from the studio ten minutes before they’re supposed to leave with a hastily sewed shirt made for a cat. It’s made out of the soft material of the cheer squad t-shirts he made for the other team members’ partners. He presents it first to Steve and then holds it out to Joan like, “Ta-dah.”
Joan sniffs the fabric – it smells like Eddie – and Steve is just like, “Why did you make that?”
“Because Joan’s got to represent, Stevie. We’re a jock family now and jocks wear their team colors,” Eddie insists, grin getting bigger when Steve rolls his eyes at him. “Everybody else is wearing team colors. Even Ozzy. See.”
He gestures to the pin attached to his yellow service dog vest that says ‘#1 Steve Harrington Defender.’ It’s right next to a patch that says ‘If You Pet Me, You Are A Part Of The Problem’ which is… “That’s new.”
“Yeah, I’m solving all the world’s problems today, baby,” He grins. “Isn’t that right, Joan?”
She hisses at the shirt.
634 notes
·
View notes