I Really Do Wonder If The Physicality Gap Between Men And Women Would Be Greatly Reduced If Women Were

i really do wonder if the physicality gap between men and women would be greatly reduced if women were not undergoing intense trauma, starvation and abuse everywhere for millennia. i think our physicality as women would greatly improve and even how our genes are expressed would change. younger girls of today are already vastly outperforming their predecessors in strength and speed because of better nutrition. i'm factoring this into my worldbuilding, but i wish i could be alive to see what would happen to the female race once liberated from oppression.

to men like Harrison Butker, asking them to imagine how they would feel if a woman got up during their graduation ceremony and said to them “it’s cute that you got a degree and everything but we all know you really long to be in the kitchen slaving away” is as preposterous as asking them to imagine how their fork feels when they’re using it to eat their dinner. they are incapable of putting themselves in our shoes because it’s impossible to empathize with something you see as an inanimate object created specifically to cater to your needs.

The inspiration

The result

If y'all think muslims in the west are sexist you are yet to meet an Indian muslim, I am not allowed to wear shorts at home meanwhile my brother's get to walk around half naked, I wear anything slightly tight that shows I have breasts I am absolutely disgusting in my mother's eyes.

Chapter 1: I am the problem

Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Kunikida Doppo, & (mentioned Nakahara Chuuya)

Language: English

Words: 1,208

AO3 Link

Next

Opening his eyes, Dazai noticed the morning sunlight streaming in through the window. Despite the warm rays resting on his skin, he felt cold. Sitting up, he let his futon pool around his waist.

“I see God has made me live another day and I’m about to make it Kunikida’s problem.”

Chuckling to himself, he avoided eye contact with the mirror as he went about his morning routine. The final part of his morning involved wrapping his arms, torso, neck, and legs. Every time he did this, he ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that unhelpfully reminded him that it was easier with the help of a certain red-haired chibi. Pushing that thought back, curb-stomping its face, putting three rounds into its chest, and then throwing it into the river of his subconscious, he finished up the last bandage.

Time to start another day.

Today was just like any other day at the agency. Work was as unstimulating as ever, and Kunikida was as entertaining to annoy. Today alone he had called Dazai a ‘waste of bandages’ eight times, twice in the same sentence. Dazai was honestly impressed.

"Dazai, I swear if you don't stop being a pain and actually start writing the report that was due two hours ago, I will force you to stay behind until you actually finish!" 

Kunikida's face was now less than an inch from his own, and was so red Dazai could practically feel the heat of his anger coming off in waves.

"Why, Kunikida-kun, if you get any angrier your blood vessels might explode, and that would be a very painful death," Dazai replied in his usual playful tone, earning an exasperated sigh. 

Kunikida stood up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Just get it finished, alright?"

Deciding that he had probably pushed Kunikida's buttons enough for one day, Dazai turned towards his laptop, staring at the screen and the small icon that lay ignored on the taskbar. Guess I should stop pretending I've not done anything, he thought. Sitting at the desk, he opened the icon and began checking the contents. I really need to remember that not everyone takes my playful jabs as well as... Anyway, he realised this fact more and more each time Kunikida seemed less and less pleased with his antics unlike... no, stop it... I'm not going there. I'm not giving that pipsqueak any room in my thoughts.

I can't. It's still too soon.

He hated when his mind did this to him, reminding him that one dumbass decision he made destroyed any chance he may have been able to have... Although blowing up his car may have been the final straw for the pipsqueak—at least it wasn’t his bike. He thought he would have hunted him down and ended him years ago if he had destroyed that.

Looking up from his laptop, Dazai realised the office was busy today and yet he still felt as lonely as he always had since leaving. He needed some air.

Dazai stood up from his desk, his movements languid and deliberate. The office buzzed with activity, voices overlapping in a cacophony that felt distant to him. He weaved through the bustling room, heading for the exit, his mind replaying fragments of past memories he wished he could forget.

Stepping outside, he took a deep breath of the fresh air, the cool breeze providing a brief respite from the turmoil within. The streets of Yokohama stretched out before him, alive with the rhythm of the city. He walked aimlessly, his thoughts a chaotic mix of regret and longing.

He found himself at the edge of the harbour, the water lapping gently against the docks. The horizon was painted with the soft hues of dawn, a promise of a new day. Dazai leaned against the railing, staring out at the sea, his mind drifting back to happier times. He remembered the camaraderie, the laughter, and the warmth of friendships that had once been his anchor.

But those days were gone, shattered by his own reckless decisions. He couldn't help but think of the red-haired chibi, Chuuya, and the bond they once shared. A bond forged in the crucible of battles and struggles, now reduced to a painful memory. Blowing up Chuuya's car had been the final act of defiance, a misguided attempt to sever ties he didn't know how to maintain.

Dazai sighed, his breath misting in the cool morning air. He couldn't change the past, couldn't undo the mistakes he had made. But he could try to make amends, to find a way to bridge the chasm he had created. 

As he stood there, lost in thought, he heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. Turning slightly, he saw Kunikida walking towards him, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. 

"Dazai, what are you doing out here?" Kunikida asked, his tone softer than usual. "You should be inside, working on that report."

Dazai gave a half-hearted smile, shrugging. "Just needed some fresh air, Kunikida-kun. The office can get a bit stifling, you know?"

Kunikida crossed his arms, studying Dazai with a critical eye. "You can't keep running away whenever things get tough. We all have our burdens to bear."

Dazai's smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "I know, Kunikida. Believe me, I know. It's just... some burdens are heavier than others."

Kunikida's gaze softened slightly, and he sighed. "We all make mistakes, Dazai. But we have to face them, learn from them, and move forward. You can't keep punishing yourself forever."

Dazai looked out at the water, the weight of Kunikida's words settling over him. He knew he was right. He couldn't keep running from his past, from the guilt and the pain. He had to confront it, to find a way to heal and move forward.

"You're right," Dazai said quietly. "I can't keep running. I need to face what I've done and find a way to make things right."

Kunikida nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And you don't have to do it alone. We're a team, Dazai. We're here for each other."

Dazai felt a flicker of warmth in his chest, a reminder that he wasn't as alone as he sometimes felt. He had people who cared about him, who were willing to stand by him despite his flaws and mistakes.

"Thanks, Kunikida," Dazai said, his voice sincere. "I appreciate it."

Kunikida clapped a hand on Dazai's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Come on, let's get back to the office. There's work to be done."

As they walked back together, Dazai felt a renewed sense of purpose. He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he had the strength to face it. With his friends by his side, he could confront his past and work towards a better future.

And maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to heal the wounds he had caused and rebuild the bonds he had broken. It was a daunting task, but one he was willing to undertake. For himself, for his friends, and for the chance at redemption he so desperately sought.

"Missing out on girlhood" should mean the thousands of little girls who missing out on being children due to poverty, trafficking, abuse, and assault. Not men who fetishize little girls' childhoods and are upset they cant live that fantasy.