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.
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The officer leans close, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest. “You’re damn lucky it ain’t ten years ago or one state over,” he growls. “You could be looking at a felony charge, serving 15 to life. We didn’t stand for this kind of thing in Hawkins when I joined the force.”
Steve just folds his arms and gives the officer a bored look. “Okay,” he says. “Good talk. Can I see my boyfriend now?”
The officer sneers, but he steps aside to let Steve through. They’ve got Eddie cuffed to the hospital bed with another gun-toting guard in the corner.
“Jesus christ,” snaps Steve. “He’s not gonna escape, he can’t even walk right now. Why don’t you clear out and give us a little privacy, huh?”
“Sorry,” says the guard, not sounding all that sorry. “It’s for his own protection.”
Fuck. He’s gonna have to hope Eddie can follow his lead. All that practice pretending to be a wizard or whatever has to be good for something, right?
He perches on the side of Eddie’s bed and takes his hand. He can do this. “Hey, gorgeous. How’re you feeling?”
“Uh,” says Eddie, eyebrows doing something hilarious. “Steve?”
“It’s okay,” says Steve. He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. This is the most they’ve ever touched, he thinks—the most that was just skin, no layers of denim or leather in between. Not even a layer of blood and dirt.
He swallows and keeps going, willing Eddie to develop freaky mind-reading powers all of a sudden. “I know you didn’t want to tell anyone about us, but I had to, baby. I’m sorry. I had to tell them you were, y’know, with me when…when Jason killed Chrissy.”
“You didn’t have to tell them about us,” says Eddie slowly. He’s giving Steve kind of an intense look. “Honey-pie. I’m sure there’s gotta be another way. One without as many consequences for you that you might not have thought all the way through.”
“There really isn’t,” Steve says. Thank god Eddie’s so quick on the uptake. Sure, he’s being a stubborn dick about it, but at least it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let anything slip.
“Fucking hell,” sighs Eddie. “Don’t suppose we can put that pesky little cat back in the bag. Okay. Darling angel, light of my life, corndog of my soul, who else knows?”
Corndog of my soul, Steve mouths to himself. “Just the cops. And Robin and Nancy, obviously. And—oh, remember Hopper?”
“Do I remember Hopper, he asks. Oh, pudding-pop. The late Chief Hopper and I spent so, so much quality time together over the years; he was practically a father figure to me. And just as with my actual dear old dad, his departure was cause for great rejoicing in Casa Munson.”
“Sorry to break the bad news, then. Hop’s alive, and he—uh, he knows everything.” Steve tries to communicate the scope of everything by kind of tilting his head back and forth. “He’s been…helping.”
“Huh. No shit,” says Eddie. Steve can’t tell whether or not he’s getting it. To be fair, there’s a lot to get. “Okay, gallant knight errant of mine, any news on whether or not I’m getting sprung from this charmingly appointed dungeon?”
“We’re…Hopper’s working on it. That’s why I’m. Y’know. Here. To tell you that they know about us.”
“Cool, right, understood.” Eddie closes his eyes, leaning back on his pillow. It’s so strange to see him in nothing but a hospital gown against white sheets. He looks like a wrung-out dishtowel.
There’s a commotion from outside, raised voices saying something like you let him what and haven’t even interrogated the Munson kid yet and not a legal status you fuckin—
“Time’s up, sweetheart,” says Eddie, mouth quirking up into the ghost of a smile. “Anything else you wanna say before they decide to upgrade my security?”
“Uh,” says Steve. He’d mostly been focusing on getting the basics of Eddie’s alibi across in a convincing way, and he can’t remember if there were any other details Eddie should know.
He hears the door slam open behind him, and panics. “Love you, bye,” he says, and ducks in to brush a quick kiss across Eddie’s chapped lips. The last thing he sees as he’s hauled bodily out of the room by a pissed-off detective is Eddie with his eyes gone enormous and shocked, lifting his uncuffed hand to his mouth, looking and looking at Steve like something is always going to be different from now on, forever.
(ETA: small continuation here!)
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Consider the following: potty UNtraining. training your little to let go in their diapee because it's healthier than holding it in and having an accident later. giving your little stickers and rewards for every time they use their diaper instead of the potty. encouraged wettings. peeing your diaper because it's more efficient than the potty. just imagine
YESSSSSSS 🎉🎊🎉
littles who have been thoroughly potty trained, so much so that they simply can't use their diaper without a lot of concentrated effort... but they really want to wear them and use them
they're just so anxious about it! how whether or not their padding will absorb everything right, if there'll be any leaks, if they should get into a certain position, if they, as an adult, could/should even be wearing a diaper....
but it's okay because their caregiver is there to help ease these worries and make using their diaper something to be celebrated!!! there's praise, there's rewards, there's encouragement!
and, whenever the little tries to come up with an excuse about why they should probably be using the potty instead, it's hard to argue when their caregiver is able to give them a good reason that a diaper is actually the best choice, from explanations like:
"I just cleaned the toilet and it'll be a shame to dirty it so soon"
"we're low on toilet paper, and I don't want to have to go to the store yet"
"it'll be a long drive home, you'll hurt your bladder and risk a UTI if you don't use your diaper"
"you're too little to use the potty all by yourself, and I just started making dinner, so you'd have to wait until after dinner, because we don't want the food to get cold, do we?"
"I can't pause the movie, it'll ruin the pacing; using your diaper will preserve artistic integrity"
"babies use their diaper, and you're my baby :) "
soon enough, the little will be able to relax and will slowly start using their diaper with more and more ease, until one day, likely while they're watching tv, they're about to get up when they realize: their diaper is wet and they didn't even notice when it happened!!!! their caregiver will be so proud of them and all the hard work they put in to get there!!!!!!!
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Small Child’s Thoughts on “Helm’s Deep”
Sounds like there are way too many bad guys.
Are they happy because the king is there? Hm. Because the king will help them fight the bad guys? I feel happy when my dad comes home because he helps me fight my sisters.
I think you should maybe not listen to someone named Wormtongue. But maybe it’s not his fault that he’s named that. Maybe his mom and dad just didn’t like him.
Mom, can I have a horn to make horn blasts with? (No.) But I would only use for good things, like to tell you if there was danger!
The van? If they have vans they can have trains. (No, no, Small Child, that means “vanguard.”) Hm. That is boring. They should have a van instead.
Gimli wants to kill lots of orcs and that is very good. I like that.
Hundreds and hundreds more bad guys is not a good thing.
Lightning plus bad guys is going to equal a very bad time for everyone.
I just do not really know what is happening. You are reading lots of words but I am confused. I only know there are orcs and lightning.
Why did Legolas spend all his arrows? (Because that’s what happens in a battle.) Well, he should have just brought more with him.
I tried to jump off a wall once. And you told me it was bad. But Gimli did it and you said it was good.
Wow! 21 is a lot of orcs! Good job, Gimli. You’re doing very good work!
Two dozen? (A dozen is 12, so how many is two dozen?) Oh, I see. 24! Legolas is winning now. Who is going to get more points? I do not want to wait to find out, I would just like you to tell me now. (Just be patient! You will find out soon enough.)
How many orcs did Aragorn kill? (I don’t know, I don’t think he is playing the game with Legolas and Gimli.) Why? He should play and not ruin the fun.
So, Mama? Blasting fire is like a bomb, right? Like a big explosion? I think if they have that, they can maybe have trains soon. Trains would make things easier because they could go places fast.
Saying his spear was long seems just so unnecessary. Spears are long. That is why they are spears and not just little stumpy stabbers.
Is that Gandalf the White Rider? Good. I think things will be okay now if he is here.
Hey Mom? You told me that if I was patient I would find out who got more points. But you stopped reading and I still do not know.
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