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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Thoughts on totk so far
1. wtf do you mean that’s ms. zelda’s house, THAT’S MY HOUSE THAT I BOUGHT WITH MY MONEY
2. wtf do you mean sidon is engaged, THAT’S MY GIANT FISH BOY THAT I COURTED THROUGH MY MUTE SWAG AND SAVING HIS SISTER’S SOUL
3. wtf do you mean kass is nowhere to be found, THAT’S MY BARD THAT I GREW ATTACHED TO BECAUSE HE WAS AROUND WHERE THERE WAS NO ONE ELSE AND SERVED ABSOLUTE BANGERS
4. wtf do you mean there’s a yiga hideout on the great plateau, THAT’S MY PLATEAU WHERE I WAS ASLEEP FOR 100 YEARS
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NO BC LISTEN.
WIRO REACTING TO HIS CRUSH/LOVER WEARING A SUIT. LIKE IT FITS THEIR FRAME SO PERFECTLY AND SNUGLY AND WDYM “WHY IS HE LOOKING” OFC HE’S LOOKING LIKE HELLO???
I can’t tell if he would shameless let his eyes roam or would avoid looking at them KDIDKSKSK WIRO BRAINROT IS SO REALL
KAJNSDSA BROOO OMG okokokok something along the lines but 👀
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
You're fiddling with the cuffs of your suit as you exit the changing room, a frown on your face. You're nervous— of course you are! It's not often that you're invited to a high-profile, black-tie event like this, and you'd rather not stick out like a sore thumb.
Wriothesley, who sits comfortably in a plush armchair, has been invited before though. But time and time again he's turned down the invites with some of the most ludicrous excuses. 'A monster is attacking the fortress' is one of his most used ones, closely followed by 'a bird shat on the shoulder of my suit.' But you wonder why he's accepted this time, despite his distaste for the limelight. Well, you shrug, pocketing the thought for later. At least you won't be going alone.
"What do you think?" You pose the question to him, still frowning as you look down at yourself. Did you look okay? Was the fit alright? Did this color wash you out? You had splurged on this (well. Wriothesley splurged on this, technically. He had said it's a gift) and had the suit custom-done, so it should fit your measurements to an exact, but... you frown, not able to shake off the nerves.
And it doesn't help that Wriothesley hasn't said anything since you've stepped out, either. Merely stares at you, eyes roaming your figure. Even at your question, he acts like he hadn't even heard it. Does the suit look that bad?
"Wrio?"
That seems to reach him, and he blinks, finally registering that he's been staring at you— and that you've begun to stare back.
"Oh, uh. Yeah, it looks nice on you. The tailor did a very good job," he says, glancing away, hoping you don't see the red tinge to his cheeks or his ears.
"Really?" You ask, evaluating yourself in the mirror with a frown. "I don't know. I feel like I look like a mess."
"if you look like a mess, then I dread to think what I look like," he says, glancing at you for a second, getting an eyeful of you in that damn good suit, and feels his mouth dry up again. Wriothesley turns his eyes to the corner of the room, finding the fake palm plant there incredibly interesting. Barely more interesting than you. In that very flattering suit. It emphasizes your body very well, he thinks. Makes him see just enough of you while still leaving some to the imagination. And the color you chose for it... red and black, to match what he'll wear, you said. He sighs, troubled, because just the mere memory of it has his heart racing and his palms sweating.
You keep criticizing your reflection for a while longer, and it takes just enough time for Wriothesley to work up the self-control to look your way. "You look good," he says at last. Then clears his throat. His face feels hot. "Better than good, even. You don't have anything to worry about, I promise."
It placates you, because you finally give your own reflection a rest. You back away from the mirror, humming. "If you say so. Thank you, Wrio," you tell him, flashing him a small, shy smile just before you back up into the changing room once more to take it off.
Once you're out of the vicinity, Wriothesley drops his head into his palms, groaning softly.
if he's this much of a mess around you at a fitting, he wonders how much of a fool he could make himself at the actual event.
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seeing, perceiving, eye contact
nsfw!! if you’re a minor don’t read this.
cw: exhibitionism with Guy and Gavin, orgasm denial mentioned with Sam, ‘puppy’ used as a petname with Ash, and obviously very explicit!
Milo fucking Sweetheart and when they look away from him, he gently holds their chin, turning their face towards him again “Come on, sweetheart, let me see those pretty eyes of yours”
David fucking Angel in front of a mirror so they can see themself and every time they look away, David will stop moving until they look at themself in the mirror again “Look in the mirror and see how beautiful you are Angel”
Honey sitting in a chair and just watching Guy while he masturbates, instructing him on how fast to move his hand and the like, giving him praise and calling him desperate when he starts begging for their touch “Honeyyy, stop just looking at me and do something! Pleasee”
Asher sitting on the floor between Baaabe legs, looking up them while they gently cup his cheek, as he begs to give them oral, and they tell him to wait like a good puppy “Please, baaabe, I will be good, I promise! Please let me make you cum”
Gavin who fucks Freelancer against a window after cloaking the two of them so that no one would actually see them, but whenever someone looks at the window Gavin will still go “You see that deviant? They’re looking at you and how fucked out you look right now…”
Darlin’ who asked Sam to try orgasm control and now, after being denied multiple times is nothing but a whining, moaning mess that doesn’t know how to form a sentence “You can look at me all you want with those pleadin’ eyes of yours, Darlin’. I’m not gonna let you cum unless you use your words.”
Porter who, even though he isn’t looking at them, is well aware that they are looking at him “You know, Treasure, just because i’m reading doesn’t mean i can’t feel your eyes on me and you practically squirming in your place… you looking to do something, dear?”
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