ladies man right there

I’m really loving the theme lately with big budget film and TV projects in the ‘nerds and nostalgia’ genre having White Male Entitlement as the villain

like

Mad Max asked who killed the world

their answer was 'toxic masculinity’

Jessica Jones answered with 'rape culture’

and Star Wars threw in 'entitled, privileged white dudes with nostalgiaboners for eras of extreme oppression for everyone else’

could we ask for a more accurate unholy trinity, or a better group to be putting this shit on blast??

Punk (Chap. 6)

Originally posted by stuckwithbuck


Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 1842

Warnings: Same as always

A/N: Thank you for all of the feedback!  It honestly makes me so insanely happy and I love hearing your theories, outrages, and feelings! <3



He looked up.  Had he heard you gasp his name?  Of course.  Fucking supersoldier…  Bucky’s eyes found yours across the club.  Time seemed to slow down in that moment.  What the fuck is are you doing here?!

“Y/N?”  

Keep reading

someone shared a thing on fb where a guy put like rose petals & candles etc around their room for his gf and was like “guys this is how you treat your lady right”, and one man commented saying “guys, i’m sure your gf or wife will appreciate it more if you just regularly do your share of housework and cooking rather than making a mess in the house” and a woman replied to his comment saying “Agreed! my husband did this one valentine’s - threw rose petals around the room & on the bed and candles everywhere - and after valentine’s day was over he left it all for me to clean up” and I wish I could say I was surprised that a man would be such a colossal jackass but I’m really not. 

  • Ino and Chouji: Shikamaru, we've come all the way here to save you!
  • Shikamaru: thanks! 👍
  • Temari: *slaps him and makes him come into his senses with the words she knows he needs to hear*
  • Shikamaru: haha, cool 👌
  • Naruto, inside Shikamaru's mind: Ramen!
  • Shikamaru: OMFG SO MOVING, SO INSPIRING, ONCE AGAIN I'VE BEEN SAVED, THIS MAN, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS FUCKING MAN RIGHT HERE, I CAN BEAT GENGO, I CAN PUNCH THE SUN, LIFE ISN'T REAL, DEATH IS A LIE, THE UNIVERSE IS AN ABSTRACT CONCEPT WE TRANSLATE TO FIT OUR SENSES...
The Most Disturbing Things in John Winchester’s Journal:  A Comprehensive Study.

@jaredsnuggles made a really incredible post about all mentions of the boys in John Winchester’s journal.  It’s incredibly helpful for writing reference, and filled with genuinely heartwarming moments and an interesting glimpse into John’s POV.

But as someone who’s pretty infamously critical of John’s parenting skills, what I most noticed was the progressively disturbing way in which the boys were brought up, the responsibilities placed on them, and the way in may have impacted their psyches (performing!Dean, anyone?) 

So let’s take a look at some of the most blatant examples of the Winchester’s upbringing that would have had the Child Protective Services knocking on most people’s doorsteps, and how it may have influenced the people they’ve become.


1.  Encouraging violent, illegal, and womanizing behavior:  

  • Dean turns fourteen today. He took off to the movies with a girlfriend. I think her name is Katie. Quite the ladykiller, that kid. Like I was at his age. Hell-raising, foul-mouthed, full of piss and vinegar. Silas had it right: he’s like me. If I’m not careful with him, by the time he’s twenty he’ll have left a trail of kids and arrest warrants all over the country. 

For some reference, Dean was not “a lady killer” at that age.  He was fourteen at the time, and didn’t even have his first kiss until he was at the boy’s home (where John dropped him) at age sixteen.  
At fourteen, he was still a child, having a presumably very chaste relationship with another child, seeing as it didn’t even involve the rudimentary making out.

  • Dean turns twenty-one today. I’d buy him a beer if I thought it would be something new. He’s also old enough to buy his own guns now. I tried to raise him right, and looks like I did. He’s a scam artist, a ladies’ man, and an absolutely loyal son. He knows what’s right and doesn’t hesitate to do it. I’m proud of him. Now that he’s hunting on his own I don’t see as much of him, but I know he’s out there. When I call him in on a job, he’s right there every time. I’ve spent the last sixteen years afraid that I was going to screw him up somehow. Maybe now I can forget about that.

This one is just messed up on multiple levels.  For one thing, there’s a lot of talk about “performing!Dean” within the fandom, and it’s easy to see where that persona comes from:  this, along with his ability to shoot, kill, and protect Sam, is one of the few times John expresses overt pride in Dean.  Of course a child/young man struggling to garner his father’s affection and approval would adopt the most suitable persona possible to do so.

It’s my opinion that Dean, at his heart, isn’t a “scam artist” or a “ladies’ man:”  he’s a homebody who loves to cook and clean and take care of people, with a lot of traditionally feminine characteristics.  He can also be interpreted as having a lot of internalized same-sex attraction.

Would John have accepted that?  From what I’ve seen, probably not.  Performing!Dean is just the son John wanted. 

2.  Age-inappropriate responsibility/obsessive behavior:

  • I took the boys, said good-bye to Missouri, and got the hell out of Lawrence. If I never go back, it’ll be too soon. Not for Dean, though. The first thing he wanted to know was when we would go home. But we don’t have a home anymore, Dean. The sooner you get used to that, the better. We don’t have a home until we find what killed your mother. 

The fact that it was hammered into Dean’s brain that they didn’t, and would not, have a home for the foreseeable future would have been a tremendous blow to a child’s psyche – particularly when it was just mentioned that he wasn’t speaking or leaving John or Sam’s side less than a month prior.

  • I’ll hunt, and the boys will hunt, and we will find whatever killed Mary and we will send it to Hell. And on the way, we will kill every monster and ghoul and ghost and demon and anything else. My boys will not grow up to experience what I have. They will not lose what I have lost. 

As always, his intentions are clearly good here, but for some reference, this was 1983.  The same year Mary died.  Dean was four, Sam was an infant, and he’s already decided that they can and will hunt.

  • Took Dean shooting. If he’s big enough to try to comfort me, he’s big enough to start learning the tools of the trade. I only let him fire the .22, but he is a deadeye marksman. My drill sergeant would have taken him over me in a second. Times like this, I sure am proud of my boy. I have a feeling it’ll be different with Sammy. Maybe he’s just too young to show it, but I don’t think he’s got the same kind of killer instinct. 

There are two disturbing things going on here:  Dean is being taught to kill at age six, and John’s reasoning is the fact that because he’s old enough to serve as emotional provider for a fully grown man, he should be able to.  And also, there’s something about a six-year-old having a “killer instinct” that just sounds incongruous to me.

This is also one of the few times he expresses genuine pride in Dean.

  • For his seventh birthday, I took Dean shooting again. He wanted to fire one of the big guns—that’s what he called them. I let him shoot the Browning, but I steadied his hands. Sammy wanted me to help him make Dean a card. It was like a normal day, like we were a normal family with a mom who was off shopping or at work or something. Instead of dead. That illusion never lasts. I can’t afford to let it. 
  • Sammy is five today. Thank God. He almost didn’t make it. I could blame Dean, but it’s my fault. There’s enough blame to go around. I missed the kill, and I left Dean watching Sam, and he couldn’t pull the trigger when he needed to. I haven’t taught him well enough. If he is weak like that again, my boys will die.

The fact that he’s blaming his nine-year-old son for his inability to kill, subconsciously or otherwise, in addition to putting a nine-year-old in a situation where he’d need to kill, is disconcerting to say the least. 

  • Last night, Sammy woke up in the middle of the night telling me he was afraid of the thing in the closet. I went and looked. There was nothing in the closet, but I’ve seen too much not to believe that there could be. So I handed Sammy the .45 and told him the next time he saw the thing in the closet, he knew what to do. I don’t think I’ll win any awards from parenting organizations, but five nights running now Sammy has slept without nightmares. Sometimes a .45 under your pillow is all you need. 

Sammy is sixteen years old today. God knows he’s got plenty of torments. Now he’s got a driver’s license, too. Doesn’t make much difference. He’s known how to drive since he was nine.

3.  Neglect:

  • Mary, you know I would never leave the boys with strangers I couldn’t trust. You know that, right? I never would. 

The fact that he is apparently leaving them with strangers, regardless of whether or not they’re “trustworthy,” when at this point they are still toddlers, is by definition neglectful behavior.

4.  Paranoia/controlling behavior: 

  • Dean turns five today. I was thinking about where we’re going to be in the fall, because he should start school. Then I realized that I can’t leave him in a school. Anything could happen. Maybe a place that has half-day kindergarten. Maybe that I could do. I know I should. I know he should be able to run around with other kids, who don’t know how to fileld-strip the Browning. Well, Dean doesn’t either, yet. But he’s learning. He’s got a talent for guns. I can see it already. And he’ll need it. 

I was a homeschooled kid myself, but the fact that John kept Dean isolated and out of academic environments in order to protect him strikes me as paranoid and controlling, as well as bad for Dean’s psyche.  

He’s also been using guns at around five years old.  I’m not even against guns, but that’s just messed up.

  • Dean turns twenty today. He’s in Ohio somewhere, hasn’t called in a couple of days. Tracking a possible poltergeist. He’s supposed to call in every night. Mission discipline is critical. 
  • Sammy is eighteen years old today. Surprised he didn’t take off. We’re not getting along too well. He hunts when we need him to, but he’s never committed himself the way Dean did. Dean’s never known any other way to live, or if he has, he doesn’t act like it. He’s playing the role he was born to play. Sammy’s the younger brother. He doesn’t know what his role is, even though I can tell him until I’m blue in the face and we’re both ready to kill each other. He’s got one more year of school and then I’m drafting him full-time into the family business. I’ve given him more slack than I ever gave Dean, more than I would have ever gotten from my dad. He needed it. Now he’s a grown man, or almost. Time for him to step into what’s expected of him. Dean never even thought about college. We used to joke about it once in a while. But Sammy still believes he can have a normal life, but they’re both more useful to the world as hunters than … what, lawyers? Dentists? Sammy’s convinced himself that smart kids have to go to college. Part of my job is to convince him that college would be a waste of his smarts. And I gotta hand it to him on the brains front: there’s nothing he can’t find on the computer. I still dig around in actual books, libraries, newspapers. It’s all keystrokes and search words for Sammy. He’s done a good job hiding our trail on all the credit cards. 

John never leaves an option for Sam or Dean to be anything other than “what’s expected of them.”  He never asks them what they want to do with their life, or considers their opinions valid.  

This is one of the later entries, so it’s clear John has had a long time to settle himself into his extremist way of thinking, but it’s still disturbing and sad.

  • Sam graduated. He didn’t go to the ceremony. I think he’s still carrying a grudge that it took him an extra year. What do you want me to do, Sammy? Should we have stayed in Lawrence while whatever killed your mother came back for you? Should we have sat around fat, dumb, and happy even though war had been declared? How long would we have lasted that way? 
  • Sam left. I told him that if he was going, it was permanent. I meant it. 

  • Dean turns twenty-four today. I was twenty-four when I married his mother. Sorry, kid. Every boy has to cut the apron strings sometime, and for you it’s not going to be until we kill off a supernatural entity that seriously needs killing. Then we’ll all be free of your mother’s ghost. We’ll be able to live normal lives. But maybe not. Maybe we’ve all been hunters too long now. 

It’s clear that John didn’t consider his children autonomous adults, and expected them to blindly obey his authority.  He also considers them complicit in his “war,” even though they were both very small children at the time.


In closing, it’s clear from the other entries that John loves his boys.  But as I’ve pointed out before, you can love someone and still be thoroughly toxic, abusive, and bad for them.  John’s parenting and projection onto Dean is probably the reason why he’s so uncomfortable with his own femininity (and ~possible~ bisexuality), and why he feels so continuously obligated to prove himself as a Scam Artist and Ladies’ Man™.  

Even Sam, heartbreakingly, has finally internalized the message that he can never be anything other than a hunter, when he clearly at one point wanted to do otherwise.  

So while John could, and did, have a lot of redeeming qualities, and wound up sacrificing himself for his son’s benefit, I hope this will lay to rest the debate about whether or not he was a good father.

i don’t want to be filthy obnoxiously rich, man i would settle for just enough money that i can be one of those well-dressed ladies who think nothing of buying 5 hardcover books and expensive Godiva chocolate and don’t have to base their grocery lists around sale items y’know

I Still Love You || Peter Parker x Reader [[request]]

[[request prompt(s): can you write about peter breaking masculine gender roles + a fluff thing where peter wants the reader to be the big spoon but is too embarrassed to straight out say it? :)]]

for this story, i’m going to combine two requests together because they both fit ;w; admittedly, i had a hard time trying to think of a good plot for the ‘breaking masculine gender roles’ request and figured combining these two requests would make things a hella lot easier for me [♥]

permanent tags: @psychicwitchphilosopher , @pharaohkiller , @moonlight53

warnings: none

**don’t plagiarize/repost this story. reblogs are fine!**

——

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electric feel

Title:  Electric Feel
Pairing: Josh Dun/OFC (unnamed)
Rating: Mature
Warning: Just smut, with a pinch of dirty talk (who am I kidding, there’s a lot of dirty talk, yall know me).
A/N: This was a request by @beaniebabycreature. This turned out way longer than I intended it to be, because I’m an asshole with backstory; this one is like 4.7k, so enjoy this. I’ve got a Jai Courtney story I’m almost done with, and I’m taking requests for Josh or Tyler stories. Send ‘em in!

Originally posted by 21pilotsgifs

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2

You know when those impromptu selfies end up being the best you’ve taken in a long while 💁🏼

● —— stand by me sentence starters.

’ alright, mickey’s a mouse, donald’s a duck, pluto’s a dog. what’s goofy? ’
’ goofy’s a dog. he’s definitely a dog. ’
’ if i could only have one food for the rest of my life? ’
’ there’s no way anybody could know that much about opera! ’
’ does the word “retarded” mean anything to you? ’
’ i don’t shut up. i grow up. and when i look at you, i throw up. ’
’ don’t call me any of your mother’s pet names. ’
’ fuck writing, i don’t want to be a writer. ’
’ god gave you something, man, all those stories you can make up. ’
’ kids lose everything unless there’s someone there to look out for them. ’
’ this is what we got for ya, kid. try not to lose it. ’
’ if your parents are too fucked up to do it, then maybe i should. ’
’ i’m in the prime of my youth, and i’ll only be young once! ’
’ yeah, but you’re gonna be stupid for the rest of your life. ’
’ how do you know if a frenchman has been in your backyard? ’
’ your garbage cans are empty and your dog’s pregnant. ’
’ didn’t i just say i was french? ’
’ do you think i’m weird? ’
’ no man, seriously. am i weird? ’
’ so what? everyone’s weird. ’
’ suck my fat one, you cheap dime store hood. ’
’ this isn’t funny! what am i supposed to eat? ’
’ come on you guys. let’s get moving. ’
’ by the time we get there, the kid won’t even be dead anymore. ’
’ you four-eyed pile of shit! ’
’ a pile of shit has a thousand eyes. ’
’ do you think mighty mouse could beat up superman? ’
’ he/she was carrying five elephants in one hand! ’
’ boy, you don’t know nothing! ’
’ there’s no way a cartoon could beat up a real guy. ’
’ maybe you’re right. it’d be a good fight, though. ’
’ i’m never gonna get out of this town am i? ’
’ you can do anything you want, man. ’
’ the main guy of the story is a fat kid that nobody likes. ’
’ friends come in and out of our lives, like busboys in a restaurant. ’
’ come on, choppy! bite my ass, choppy! bite my ass! ’
’ stop teasing that dog, you hear me! stop teasing him! ’
’ i’m gonna beat your ass, teasing my dog like that! ’
’ i’d like to see you climb over this fence and get me, fat ass! ’
’ don’t you call me that, you little tin weasel peckerwood looney’s son. ’
’ what did you call me? ’
’ i’m gonna rip your head off and shit down your neck! ’
’ i never had any friends later on like the ones i had when I was twelve. ’
’ nothing like a smoke after a meal. ’
’ yeah… i cherish these moments. ’
’ “suck my fat one”? whoever told you that you had a fat one? ’
’ i was twelve going on thirteen the first time i saw a dead human being. ’
’ what are you gonna do? shoot us all? ’
’ you guys wanna go see a dead body? ’
’ you wanna be the lone ranger, or the cisco kid? ’
’ shit no! what do you think i am? ’
’ is it loaded? ’
’ if you wanna get laid, you gotta get yourself a protestant. ’
’ did your mother have any kids that lived? ’
’ maybe you will, maybe you won’t. ’
’ i wasn’t that scared. i wasn’t. sincerely. ’
’ don’t pay any attention to those fools. ’
’ are you all right, young man/lady? ’
’ hey lardass, how was your trip? ’
’ that was the all-time train dodge! ’
’ you were so scared you looked like that fat guy. ’
’ you come on and try it, you slimy bastard. ’
’ you watch your mouth, smart guy! let him do his own fighting. ’
’ from the racks and stacks, it’s the best on wax! ’
’ we’re just here to take a couple steelhead out of the river. ’
’ come on, man, we’re gonna be famous! ’
’ we’re gonna be on every radio and tv show in the country! ’
’ now i’m gonna state mine: get in the fucking car, now! ’
’ okay… you’ve stated your position clearly. ’
’ when they gonna give up? the kid’s gone. ’
’ they ain’t never gonna find him/her. ’
’ would you hold still? you’re making me fuck up the snake part. ’
’ some hunter’s gonna go in the woods to take a leak, wind up pissing on his bones. ’
’ i bet you a thousand bucks they’ll find him/her before then. ’
’ hey, what’s the big deal? who cares? ’
’ will you two just shut the fuck up? ’
’ if either of you assholes had two-thousand dollars, i’d kill you both. ’
’ why couldn’t you have gotten breakfast stuff? ’
’ i guess a more experienced shopper could have gotten more for your seven cents. ’
’ the train had knocked him/her out of his/her keds. ’
’ you’re gonna be a great writer someday. ’
’ i’ll be waiting on the other side, relaxing with my thoughts. ’
’ you use your left hand or right hand to do that? ’
’ you let him/her beat you, you cock-knocker! ’
’ what am i supposed to do, think of everything? ’
’ what did you bring a comb for? you don’t even have any hair! ’
’ i’m sorry if i’m spoiling everybody’s good time. ’
’ we’re going to see a dead kid… maybe it shouldn’t be a party. ’
’ you know what that means. next year we’ll all be split up. ’
’ what are you talking about? why would that happen? ’
’ no, man. don’t say that. don’t even think that. ’
’ i told you we should of stuck to the tracks. ’
’ is it me, or are you the world’s biggest pussy? ’
’ i suppose this is fun for you? ’
’ i still think we should call the cops. ’
’ it’s best we just keep our mouths shut. ’
’ we could make a ‘nonymous call. ’
’ they trace those calls, stupid. ’
’ you’re a real asshole, you know that? ’
’ i know you didn’t mean to insult my friend. ’
’ why don’t you tell me something i don’t know, asshole? ’
’ any of you guys know when the next train is due? ’
’ the kid wasn’t sick. the kid wasn’t sleeping. the kid was dead. ’

anonymous asked:

How about College AU with the RFA and Minor Trio? Like what their major would be, roommate, stuff like that

I don’t know much about collage majors, so I’m sorry if you were looking for specifics. Also I wasn’t sure if you wanted a MC to be included or not, but I included them anyway. The RFA isn’t running by the way. 

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Debunking a Ridiculous Myth

According to some, the girl on the left (me) belongs in the men’s room, while the man on the right belongs in the ladies room.

Ridiculous right?

Now, while the image is meant to shock and illustrate the problem, that isn’t even the crux of the issue. Assume I was forced into the men’s room and Buck here (man on the right) was forced into the ladies room. Guess who is more vulnerable and at risk? It isn’t your little daughter, it’s me. For me to enter a men’s room that tells everyone in there I’m transgender. Transgender women are ridiculed, assaulted, beaten and murdered for simply having the audacity to walk down the street in broad daylight.

Your daughter, sister, wife or mother is safer in the bathroom with a transgender woman than you’d like to believe. There is no other group of people more sensitive to the harsh realities of violence against woman than transgender women. We were once treated as men. We got to talk over other people in meetings, we got raises and promotions for being one of the guys, we got to walk the street at night relatively free from fear, we never had to measure the length of our clothes to make sure they met a dress code, and we never had to carry pepper spray or attend a self defense class just because of who we were. If I saw a cis man assaulting your child in the women’s room, you would have to pull me off of trying to smash his face in.

Lastly this talk of creepy cis men using the cloak of transgender rights as a basis for entering the women’s room to assault or creep on women?

1. Rapists, pedophiles and creepy men don’t need an excuse.
2. You really think stopping people who look like me from going into the women’s room but allowing people who look like Buck on the right to go in there doesn’t give men an excuse? Trust me, a creepy guy has a LOT harder a task looking like me than they do like him. You really think “I’m a transgender woman” is a better excuse than “I’m a transgender man?”

Stop the hate. Let us pee.

I just ran across a rage post about “men’s reproductive rights” and honestly I’m just confused, I mean been a while since middle school health, but I seem to remember the way it goes is a man has an orgasm and a woman has a baby, that is to say the ladies do all the reproducing, so what reproductive rights can a man have? Or is this 100% a Men’s Rights bullshit code word about owning a woman’s uterus?