#where it is needed and where it’s going to make a difference and where we have power

[naserfamily21]

From Tragedy to Triumph—With Your Help

I have experienced more loss than anyone should in a lifetime. My name is Naser, and war took everything from me—my mother, my sister, my home.

My brothers and I have been displaced twice, forced to leave behind not just possessions, but memories, security, and dreams. We have nothing but each other, and even that is not enough to rebuild a future.

🏡 What We Need 🔹 A home—so we no longer have to wonder where we will sleep. 🔹 Education—so we can rebuild our future, not just survive day by day. 🔹 Stability—so my youngest brother can just be a child again.

🎓 Our Dreams Didn’t Die With Our Home 🔹 I want to go to university. 🔹 My brother wants to be a doctor. 🔹 Another dreams of becoming an engineer.

But without support, those dreams will fade.

💙 How You Can Help Even a small donation makes a big difference. If you can’t donate, please share this post—your voice can reach someone who can help.

🙏 Thank you for believing in us. Thank you for giving us a reason to keep fighting for a future. ❤️

[tossawary]

Part of this (Doylist explanations) is "Airplane doesn't come into the story as a character until the Immortal Alliance Conference" and also "the author wants the second transmigrator reveal to happen at this particular point in the story and also in this particular way".

But I enjoy how these plot beats construct a situation in which Shen Yuan overhears one (1) offhand exclamation in the middle of an emotionally devastating battle and somehow recalls it perfectly later (he could have misheard!), immediately concludes that Shang Qinghua is a transmigrator, and is so confident in this that he head-on confronts the sect traitor about being a traitor (he could have been wrong! this could have been Original SQH!) BEFORE referencing PIDW or usernames or transmigration.

Side note: If it had been Original SQH, I do personally think that Shen Yuan would have been more than willing to throw down, but he makes a few really wild assumptions here. He's correct about the transmigrator thing. But there are other assumptions he makes (that the Black Moon Rhino-Python wasn't there because SQH was actively trying to stop LBH from going into the abyss) that he apparently does NOT confirm as true. He also kind of assumes that a fellow transmigrator will be an ally and remain an ally instead of a potential very dangerous enemy???

Meanwhile, Airplane had multiple years of experiencing Shen Qingqiu apparently having woken up one day with a wildly different personality, to the point where the other peak lords are having secret "Is he possessed and should we do anything about that???" meetings, and he didn't really do anything with that. I need to reread the Airplane Extras again to review Airplane's exact thoughts on WTF was going here, but just looking back at the vague plot beats of main story... Shen Yuan had a tiny crumb and ran like hell with it. Airplane had a multi-course feast of evidence and was apparently like, "I don't know. I don't want to know. I'm staying away from that."

[gordonengineswifenirmal]

I was physically healthier in grade school, but I had a lot going on emotionally. I had ppl calling me trans n lesbian before it was acceptable. Im cisgender n thought I was straight at the time. (I turned out to be very asexual). I started missing school because the emotional torment was too much.

The principal n teachers thought I was hearing voices - because I could not identify the harassers. They were in a younger grade, they harassed me for years in another school before they were old enough to attend this one. I didn’t know their names. I could pick out what they looked like if I’d seen them, but they would whisper it and run away.

I have never heard voices or seen things except when I was on some bad meds for depression that really didn’t agree. Never before or after. This particular incident was long after I’d been off those meds, n hadn’t been hearing voices at all. Never heard anything at home, on the high street. Also, this was before cell phones were a thing, so I couldn’t just snap a picture of them in the hall n b like here - these ruddy bastards did it.

I nearly quit school because of it. It still triggers things to this day. This is also why I’m extreme sensitive to being misgendered. It goes far beyond JUST being proud to b who u r n whatnot. The backstory is emotionally painful. Luckily, I was able to get home schooling after a real fight for it with the district. I probably fought for that shite more than most did for an education. I then went on to get 2 degrees, n help others get theirs.

The point is -

People need to listen. Actually listen. Don’t make arrogant assumptions. Instead of snide remarks n accusations, ask questions, try to help find solutions, try to better understand the situation. That kid who is in pain n missing school, or that kid who is traumatised by school probably has a reason. They’ve been ignored n shot down so many times, they’re probably afraid to speak up. Don’t add to that. Be the difference. Believe me, it can affect them later. You can honestly b part of the problem or part of the solution. You may be able to help more than one person, n it doesn’t take much.

Sadly though, people treat older folks the way they do kids. Have the same approach - and understand that writing them off is offensive for a reason. Just like a kid wants to genuinely be heard, so do we older folks. We have life experience. You don’t want to be insulted, talked down to, patronised, n made of? Neither do we. How do u avoid this? Don’t do it. Learn to communicate better, appropriately. You want to be valued too? U won’t be by treating others like shite. And for the younger lot - one day, u will get older. You might b in a position where u r mistreated by younger folks. Just remember that.

When I say “school should be disability accessible”, I don’t just mean we need handicap rails and EAs. Kids should be able to miss a day without failing out of school. You shouldn’t be dismissed from clubs because your attendance record is “spotty” (true story). I once missed an entire week of school because of a terrible, unending migraine. I was expected to keep up with my studies despite the blinding pain that came with working on my computer. When I heard my teachers say that you couldn’t miss exams, I asked what I would have to do to be excused from them. Their response? “Either get a doctor’s note an hour before the exam or death of an immediate family member.”

I cannot express how rigid this expectation was. First of all, with my condition, I wouldn’t have enough warning about my sickness to go to the doctor and request a note. For many people, this is exceptionally difficult, especially with the current shortage of medical professionals. Next, it ignores the fact that my schedule may not line with theirs because of my medical needs. Once, I had to visit a hospital a province away (which I was on the waiting list of for over a year) on the same day as an exam. I begged my mother not to take me because I was so nervous that I would be marked as an automatic fail. I was lucky enough to make it work, but that’s only because of my spectacular support system consisting of family members and wonderful doctors.

Disabilities aren’t always about needing a bus that can accommodate wheelchairs. It’s already difficult enough for many of us to maintain school attendance without the harsh punishments involved for skipping a day. We need to be able to miss school without being punished. Only than can you claim that the school is “accessible”

[naserfamily21]

War Took Everything—But It Won’t Take Our Future

My name is Naser. I never thought I would be here, writing these words, asking for help to rebuild my life. But war does not ask for permission.

💔 War took my mother. It took my sister. It took my home. Our house, the place where I grew up, was turned to rubble in an instant. My three brothers and I were forced to leave everything behind. We have been displaced twice, always searching for safety, for a place to start over.

But starting over feels impossible when you have nothing.

🎓 We Still Have Dreams—If We’re Given the Chance Even in the darkest moments, we hold onto hope. We don’t just want to survive—we want to live.

🔹 I dream of going to university. 🔹 My brothers dream of becoming doctors and engineers. 🔹 The youngest just wants a normal childhood.

But without support, these dreams may never come true.

💙 How You Can Help Every dollar, every share, every kind word makes a difference. Your support can help us rebuild our lives, find a home, and get the education we need to change our future.

🙏 Please, if you can, help us. Even a small act of kindness can mean everything to us.

[cosmosluckycharms]

Show☆Time

It'll all work out

It had been a couple of weeks since you last had your first true conversation with Dick.

He ended up not being able to make it to your performance (unsurprisingly) and your hope was wavering.

Tonight, you had to perform for a bunch of Gotham prep students.

You were nervous but also excited.

You had been practicing for a while, and everything was working out!

After a couple of minutes of rehearsing, the students started making their way in

You finished getting ready, putting the finishing touches

The curtain opened and you performed.

You noticed how one of your older brothers was in the crowd.

He was technically only older by like 2 years, but he was older.

You were so happy! Someone from your family finally came!

You tried not to break character and wave to him.

After the show, you were cleaning up with your friends.

Much to your surprise, Damian came up to you.

"Damian!" your eyes lit up in joy "Did you like the show?"

"TT it was acceptable." Damian crossed his arms and looked away

"YAAAYY!☆" You hugged him and spun him around playfully much to his dismay.

"Let me down!" Damian got out of your hold and walked away.

Rui put his hand on your shoulder "How about we go out for dinner?"

You and your friends decided to get bat burger to celebrate everything going well

You and Tsukasa were talking about plans for shows, and Nene and Rui had their drinks in their hands watching you both talk loudly about whether or not you guys need another confetti canon.

"I'm telling you, we don't need one more, we already have 2!" Tsukasa says, grabbing one of Ruis's fries

"third time's the charm☆!" you take a bite of Rui's fries as well

"Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but it's getting late, we should start heading out." Nene says, taking a napkin and clearing your cheek free of ketchup.

"Okie dokie!" you get up and clear the table.

After a couple of minutes, you all headed out to the fast food joint, drinks in hand.

"Okay, so you'll accept another plushie parachute but not another confetti cannon? We already have 5 of them!" you argued

"The difference is that confetti cannons are more expensive!" Tsukasa dramatically struck his hand on his chest, making you giggle

"I can afford it!" you were right and everyone knew it. Your monthly allowance was more than some people's yearly salary.

"G-guys quiet down! It's dangerous out here-!" nene tried to quiet you both down.

"Nene's right, we are heading towards an alleyway, it's dark out, and you never know." Rui added

"oh cmon, we are fine!" Tsukasa said, turning to look at Nene, only to hear you yell out

They turned to look at you

You weren't there. You had disappeared into the dark alleyway, and the cup you were holding now spilled onto the ground.

Your friends all looked at each other for a second before running behind you.

They saw you and tried to grab onto you, only for the goons to drag you away swiftly.

Rui ran after you, much to Nene and Tsukasa's dismay.

They ran.

They ran and ran to the manor.

They hated to admit it, but they needed to tell your family.

They'd all been at the manor a couple of times, for projects, performances, just regular hangouts, etc.

And from what you told them about your family, they disliked them.

They rang the doorbell.

Alfred opened the door, preparing for the worst, only to see Nene was out of breath and lying on the floor.

"Madam Nene and Master Tsukasa? What are you both doing here?"

"It's Y/N! She got kidnapped by someone!" Tsukasa said, trying to get Nene up from the ground.

"And Rui ran after them!" Nene added, wiping her dress free of dirt.

Alfred sat them both down and called your family and told them what happened.

After a minute or two, the vigilantes came.

"Why are the heroes here?" Tsukasa asked, looking at them

"Vigilantes." Nene corrected "Plus, they probably didn't have time for Y/N, they never do."

Tsukasa and Nene started bickering, being shut up by Batman clearing his throat

"Do you know where she is now?" Red Robin asked

"Yeah, we have her and Rui's life 360, it says she's in a warehouse." Nene showed her phone to him

"Probably holding her for ransom," Tsukasa added

"You're probably right, she's like, the princess of Gotham." Nene agreed

"you guys stay here and we'll go fetch her," Robin said, grabbing his katana.

"No." Tsukasa crossed his arms.

"No?" Nightwing lifted an eyebrow, looking towards Tsukasa.

"No. We know where she is, and we want to help her. We are coming." Nene argued

After much arguing from both parties, Nene and Tsukasa were allowed to come.

They all got into the batmobile and made their way over to the warehouse.

When they finally got near the warehouse, they had to park far away to not get caught by the cameras.

Nene started slowing down immensely due to a lack of energy and had to be given a piggyback ride by Red Robin.

They all ran in, nene still being carried by Red Robin on his back.

Rui was hiding behind a giant wooden box, calling everyone over to a blindspot cameras couldn't catch.

You were up, hanging by the leg, upside down, hands crossed like a bat.

"Y/N?!" your friends exclaimed in confusion

"Hey guys!" you giggled and waved

"Y/N, we're gonna help you get down," Batman said, already scanning the room for any attackers.

"Y/N!" Rui yelled, grabbing everyone's attention

"Shut it, you going to get us caught!" Red Robin covered Ruis mouth, dropping Nene in the process.

Before Red Robin could apologize to her, Rui continued; "Try to untie the rope! Or use something around you to do it!"

"She's going to fall." Red Hood stated already preparing for the worst

"She won't." Nene states knowingly

Robin points his katana toward her chin "Are you stupid? Of course, she'll fall, she's 35 feet in the air!"

Tsukasa ignored their threats "Do it, now!"

You immediately started undoing the knot, you had no idea what the plan was, but you were gonna freeball it.

You watched as everyone started arguing, causing a commotion.

Some goons started making their way toward them, you needed to do something, fast.

You yelled "Fire! Fire! Some bad guys are coming your way!" you still fumbled around with the knot, it was hurting to be upside down.

Before you knew it, everyone was fighting.

Nene was fighting a goon using her pepper spray, while Robin fighting twogoons who were ready to attack her.

Rui was making his way toward you, ready to catch you in case anything went wrong.

And Red Hood wasn't far behind him, preparing himself as well.

After a few seconds, you managed to untie yourself and were holding on to the rope.

"Don't look down!" Rui yelled

Hearing that, you looked down out of habit.

35 feet above.

You were scared.

You were slipping.

You had to get it over with.

Red Hood held his breath and watched as you jumped, thinking you were gonna plummet down to your death

...only for you to fall like a fairytale princess

This was normal to you, you didn't believe in physics.

You aimed for Rui to catch you, and you missed and landed in Red Hood's arms.

You looked at him with a gleam in your eyes

Red hood! Your favorite vigilante!

Before you could start saying hi to him, you saw in the corner of your eye Nene was struggling.

Sure, she had Robin with her, but she was a little weaker compared to the 3 goons attacking them.

You wriggled out of Red Hood's hold and made your way to the goons.

You could hear him yelling at you to not harm yourself, but you needed to help Nene!

You pulled out a comically sized hammer from out of your performer costume, which was around 3x your height, and started hitting the goons.

Red Robin looked at you in confusion, "Where did you get that from?"

"don't worry about it!" you swung around your hammer like a baton

You heard a gunshot.

You turned to look for where it

Came from and saw the bullet had almost hit Nene.

She was frozen in fear.

You saw the goon about to shoot her again, and you tackled her to push her out of the way.

The bullet ended up hitting the side of your stomach, making Nene's eyes widen.

Tsukasa and Rui made their way toward you and kept you from passing out

You passed out as soon as Nightwing got to you.

Your friends were all ushered out by Nightwing, who was escorting them to the batmobile.

He placed you on a seat, Rui was next to you putting pressure on the wound.

You were passed out from the pain.

As soon as you all got to the manor, Nightwing tried to get them all to go home.

Fortunately, Nightwing gave up on trying to get them all to go home.

Tsukasa was well trained in wounds due to spending some time learning about medical things when he was younger due to being in the hospital a lot when he was growing up, so he helped Nightwing patch you up.

It took you around half an hour to wake up.

You were in a guest room, surrounded by the vigilantes yet again.

Your head was lying on Nene's lap, who was stroking your hair.

There was a tense silence as if everyone was scared to talk.

Nene was the first to speak; "You shouldnt've done that."

"Huh?" You questioned

"You shouldn't have taken that bullet for me, you know." Nene continued stroking your hair, looking a bit sadder

"if I didn't, you would've been hurt. I'd rather me get hurt." You fidgeted with the bracelet on her other arm.

After a while, your friends went home as soon as the vigilantes confirmed everything was okay.

After a moment you realized,

"Where's my family?" You asked, looking toward Batman

"They're, uh, busy. In a meeting." He quickly replied

"Oh, that makes sense. Well, when they get home could you tell them I'm tired? I need to go to bed." You got up and left to go to your room.

As soon as you were out of earshot, the vigilantes conversed with themselves

"..does she not know we're..?" Red Robin asked Batman

"Apparently she doesn't. I thought she did."

The next morning, you were awoken by Dick bringing you breakfast in bed.

"We heard about what happened to you from Nightwing, we are so sorry we couldn't be around to help! We were stuck in a, uh, meeting!" He placed the plate on the bed tray placed on your bed

You were still half asleep when he explained

"Please meet us downstairs when you are done." He walked out, closing the door softly on his way out.

This was unusual. It was a welcome change.

Once you were done, you grabbed your duffle bag covered in charms and pins and made your way downstairs.

You saw everyone sitting down in a circle formation as if it was an intervention.

You sat down, putting the bag next to you.

"What's in the bag?" Tim asked, slightly intimidating.

"My performer outfit! I'm so excited for rehearsal-☆" You were about to talk about your day, but you saw everyone's guilty look.

"About that," Jason put a hand on the back of his neck "you can't perform for a while."

"WHAT?!"

"it's only for a month and a half. Until your wound heals. Doing your flips and shit could reopen it and make it worse. You need to heal." Jason said, trying to comfort you

"but-but-but!" you teared up slightly, you strongly disliked this.

"it'll be a month. No more, no less. You'll be able to perform again." Your father said

"Okay.." you were excited to get that month and a half over with as soon as possible.

oh god this was bad

guys im.trying to learn how to write better trsut

if this seems rushed its causw i dornr know how ro write help

guys trust more bug like angel coming soon🙏

anyways

taglist: @shirp-collector-of-fixations @maybeethan69 @iluvcatzz @tacendxx @ninihrtss @tsxukikami @d3sperate-enuf @staarflowerr @chaoticmoontimetravel @crazycaoticsimp @sugarrush-blush @kaitense1 @ryuushou @weebbuscuit @eyeless-kun @twismare @mirou-x3

[ariaste]

So I was nodding along almost the whole way through, I was saying "Yeah!" and "Oof, I feel that, I can relate," until I got to:

"be forceful, if you have to, and learn to distinguish real discomfort from the terrified reflex of self-denial" and "you must insist upon her [...] because she may still not yet know how".

And... yeah, no, kinda lost me there. Now, don't get me wrong! It is perfectly valid if you're doing those things essentially as kink (or not-really-kink-but-kinda-uses-the-same-tools-and-skillset) -- that is, you and your beloved have sat down and talked about her discomfort and her difficulties, and the difference between actual discomfort and cognitive dissonance at the concept of having nice things for herself, and how SHE wants you to recognize the distinction (and what signals SHE can give to provide cues in cases of ambiguity), and she's given you express permission to do the Being Forceful thing in pursuit of doing nice things for her and insisting or persuading her into accepting them -- AND y'all have talked about how she can communicate effectively when your insistence and persuasion isn't just not landing right for some reason or when it's actually starting to cross a line. If you've done all that: great, godspeed, I love your love. Make her accept all the compliments and adoration and the nice things she deserves! Your crusade to love her properly is righteous and just!

However. The vast majority of us across the spectrum of transness have experienced people crossing our boundaries, infantilizing and condescending to us, assuming that they know better than us about what we want, and ignoring our quiet, hesitant attempts to push back in small ways as we try to establish a foothold and figure out how much space we're allowed to take up. So... idk, putting "be forceful" and "insist because she may not yet know how" right next to solid, sound advice for all situations like "be patient, be generous" as if they are equivalent in meaning and impact and importance just... rubs me the wrong way. I think OP is absolutely speaking coming from a place of love and positivity, but... this needs caveats.

Because man-oh-man I have personally experienced this kind of thing from both sides: Just because you know that something is going to be good for someone doesn't mean they're going to appreciate having it forced on them. Just because you're absolutely sure that someone will be delighted by something doesn't mean that you're always going to be right.

Suppose the nice thing that someone (let's call them Tye) is doing for their partner (let's call her Mia) is... taking her out to her favorite Italian restaurant. Suppose Tye does this every week without fail, and they feel great about it because Mia loves this restaurant and she deserves to be treated like a princess. But what happens if one week she's bored of it, or not in the mood for Italian food? What happens if she says, "Hey, maybe we don't have to go today... I don't really need all this, what if we just eat toast and eggs--" and Tye says, "NO NO. NO, I LOVE YOU AND WE'RE GOING! YOU DESERVE IT!!!" Y'know what I'm saying??? That's not actually about loving Mia anymore, that's more about Tye getting off on their own heroism. And Mia is once again having to shut up and make herself small.

If the goal is to love your person and give her space to grow confident enough to accept and embrace all the love and wonderful things she deserves, the strategy of forcefulness and insistence COULD actually end up being counter-intuitively DISempowering if it is not explicitly consensual: It is removing opportunities for her to practice communicating her own needs, choosing happiness, and valuing herself where other people can see. It is reinforcing the lesson she has already learned from the rest of society, which is that her self-knowledge and boundaries are inferior to the wants and goals of the people around her.

Having a partner who is so passionate about loving us that they INSIST on giving us the things we secretly long for even when we're scared and shy of accepting them ourselves (and that they always telepathically know exactly what is going to be the perfect thing even before we know it ourselves, and they never once make a mistake in reading our mood when we come home tired from work, and they're always able to seamlessly adjust their plans to accommodate our whim)... It is a lovely fantasy. I will not deny that it is a very lovely fantasy and that I too would like to go to there. That sounds FANTASTIC.

But at the end of the day you are loving an adult human being and "no means no" must remain true even if you think you perceive a glint of longing in her eye (unless modified rules of consent have been established and ratified between you prior to this). Absolutely be patient, be generous, be loving, be attentive and proactive. But also you also gotta be okay with backing the hell off sometimes. You gotta be humble enough to acknowledge that sometimes you might be projecting your own past self's longings, rather than looking at the person in front of you with clear eyes. Create a space where it's safe for her to come out of her protective shell instead of dragging her out of it before she's ready. Encourage her to set her own boundaries, and express appreciation when she does so, especially when the boundaries are ones you disagree with or are personally inconvenienced by.

You cannot force a person to move faster along their journey of loving themself. Having someone insist on giving you love (and I'm once again speaking from experience here, as someone who has been on both sides) can sometimes end up making the beloved feel more guilty, more self-conscious, and more aware of their own "failures" and "deficiencies". To the person trying to do that style of love, it probably IS purely in good faith, but to the person receiving it, it can sometimes come across as a constant implicit reminder of, "I'm not doing it right, I'm still not doing it right, and everyone can tell. No matter how hard I try I still can't do it right, I hate myself even more now."

OP absolutely hit the nail on the head with everything about, "I had to stop [negative self-thoughts], I had to start [taking care of myself], I had to learn [those skills], but more than that I had to learn to ask[...]. it was agony, but courage is a muscle you can train." 100% cosigned. That is exactly it -- training muscles. You can be someone's spotter and cheerleader, but you can't lift the weights for them, and forcing them to lift more than they're ready for often hurts more than it helps. Communicate! Establish a culture of consent even outside the bedroom! And continue to be patient even when it turns out that progress is not a straight line without any stumbles!

so many of the transfems i know spent their time pre-transition performing a kind of lifelong exercise in self-deprivation, the goal of which was to find out exactly how little a person needed to live. they starved themselves, dressed carelessly, shunned friends, and hollowed themselves out so as not to be burdens on anyone but themselves.

i see it now, too, in the girls around me. i'll ask if they want care – a home-cooked meal, relaxed company, sex without the expectation of reciprocation – and they say no, no, thank you, i don't need it; what would you like, what do you want, because in their head they're still doing that awful calculus, still training themselves to disappear in the eyes of the people around them.

i don't think i'd have died without transition – not in the conventional sense, at least – but to take that leap, i had to stop thinking of myself as a human experiment in fuel-efficient living and start nurturing the anemic, atrophied flame of desire in my heart. i had to learn to eat well, to exercise, to style myself beautiful, but harder than that, i had to learn to ask the people around me to work on my behalf in order to enrich my life and give me the things i wanted.

and i did it; i learned. and it was agony, but courage is a muscle you can train, and every day i get better at accepting gifts with the hungry gratitude i never learned in my years and years as a sad, scared, lonely boy.

so be patient with the trans girls in your life. better than that: be proactive, attentive, generous; be forceful, if you have to, and learn to distinguish real discomfort from the terrified reflex of self-denial that so many of us once learned to rely on.

and if you are so lucky as to love a trans girl, you must insist upon her. you must insist upon her happiness, her comfort, her pleasure, and her rest, because she may still not yet know how to make those demands for herself. if you can devote any amount of energy to becoming an engine that nurtures the flame of even a single tgirl then there is a place for you in trans heaven, which as far as i'm concerned is the only one worth going to

[realsocialskills]

Disability-affirming growth mindset

Children are often taught to think “I can’t do that *yet*” as a form of encouraging growth mindset. That’s a really useful strategy when it’s applicable, and it also needs some nuance in order to be more disability-affirming. 

Growth mindset has to be grounded in reality.

Growth means that I am always learning new things and developing new skills and getting better at things. It doesn’t mean doubling down on pursuing impossible dreams; it means doing real things. 

Sometimes growth mindset means thinking “I can’t do that *yet*,” and continuing to try until I can.

Sometimes it’s more like, “This isn’t working. Maybe I need to do it another way.”

Or: “This isn’t working, and maybe it’s not going to work. What else can I do?”

Or: “I can’t do *that*, but I can do the important part a different way.”

Or: “I can do that with help.” and/or “Let’s figure out what supports would make it possible to do that.”

Or: “We can do that collaboratively, together.”

Or: “I could do that with appropriate assistive technology. Let’s figure out if some exists and/or if there’s something we could invent.”

In those instances, realizing that something isn’t going to work is part of how we find out what *can* work.

There are also cases in which growth mindset means realizing that something may not be a good use of our time and effort and resources. A skill that is broadly useful to nondisabled people might not be worth it to me, even if I’m technically capable of doing it. (For instance, handwriting is a useful skill for most people, but it’s always been so hard for me that it’s not really worth it. Losing the ability to  handwrite more than a few words at a time has freed up my abilities to do other things, like focus on typing words.)

There’s something powerful about seeing your body as it really is and working with it rather than against it. Sometimes figuring out what isn’t possible or what’s not worth the cost in time and effort is how we find areas where we can grow and flourish. 

Growth mindset means that I *don't sabotage my growth* by wasting time and effort pursuing impossible things. I don’t stand on a chair or a roof and expect believing in myself to make it possible to use my arms as wings and fly. If I want to fly, I need an airplane, and that’s ok. 

At the same time, I think that claiming the power of “yet” is really important for disabled people, and especially for people with developmental disabilities. 

Sometimes there can be a lot of pressure to see ourselves as incapable of doing things every time disability makes it harder or means we need to do things differently or it’s not obvious whether or how we could do the thing. 

Sometimes we get pressure not to try things unless there’s some certainty that we will be able to do them. (And for something as complex and poorly understood as developmental disabilities, there’s rarely much certainty. Having other people’s doubts limit what we’re allowed to try makes the world very, very small.)

Sometimes disability-affirming growth mindset means saying “I can’t do that, let’s do something else,” and sometimes it means saying, “I might be able to do that, and I’d like to try.” Sometimes it means saying, “I want to keep trying even though it’s harder for me and I’m not catching on as quickly and no one seems to know how to teach me.” or “I don’t know if this is going to work but I think it could, and at this point, I’d like to keep trying.” Or, “I know most people learn this by the time they’re four, and I know I’m much older than that, but I’d like to try to learn this too.”

Sometimes it means an adult claiming the right to learn how to read, or finding a dance studio where they’re willing to slow down enough for them to learn. Sometimes it means practicing a new skill in private while you’re figuring out if it’s something that makes sense for you. Sometimes it means asking around to other disabled people to see what their strategies have been. Sometimes it means demanding your right to accessibility and accommodations even when others don’t think you belong and don’t see you as capable of doing things in the space you want to be in.

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' DEPOLLUTE ME , GENTLE ANGEL ,,

|| pairings: hawks x reader / keigo takami x reader

|| warning: a little suggestive, but it stops, other than that its comfort <3 listen to the song "We'll Never Have Sex" and you'll understand. reverse comfort

|| word count: 0.8k

Hawks. Number two hero in all of Japan. Fastest hero in all the country, youngest too, only age 22 and he was number two. Everyone seemed to want a piece of him, woman, man, anyone. It made sense, of course, he was attractive. He acted carefree, always with a boyish grin on his face and everything he did seemed so effortless. Perhaps that was apart of the problem.

No matter what he did, everyone made their assumptions. Made their ideas, believing him to be a playboy or some sex-driven man. He hated it. Keigo was told to just let it happen, it was good publicity. Especially with how much his fans ate it up, he complied. He let it happen.

That all changed when he met you. Who's hands were never quick, never yearning in a way to get his clothes off. Your hands were soft, gentle. Always caring, never forcing. Keigo didn't understand it, why weren't you trying anything? Why weren't you trying to make him apart of a fantasy?

Your soft lips against his as you sat in his laps, but it wasn't quick. Not 'hot and bothered' as some may speculate, no, it was slow and careful. His hands placed on the small of your back as the two of you kissed. It was a comfort, it was wonderful. Something Keigo always yearns after he finishes a hard day of a hero, to come home where you'd swing by. Watch a movie, make some food, just be together. Sweet kisses exchanged, tonight was no different. The only small change was that those small kisses turned to a small make-out.

You, who'd move your hands just a bit down, down Keigo's chest. He didn't want it to stop, but at the same time it felt like too much. Something he wasn't ready for, not yet at least. The vermillion feathers ruffled behind him as he forced himself to let this happen. You, on the other hand? You stopped and pulled away, cupping his face in your hands as you pressed a gentle kiss on Keigo's scarred cheek.

"Why'd you stop?" Your boyfriends question was barely above a whisper as he held you close. He didn't understand, was he not kissing you well enough? Not being good enough for you?

"Because you wanted to stop," You ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. One that's been kissed by the winds that he flew through during the day. Before he could try to fight back you continued. "I could tell your hesitation, love."

"Dove, we can keep going-"

"When you're ready."

Keigo stared at you with his golden eyes, staring up at you as you mindlessly brushed through his hair with your fingers. Untangling any mess that had happened from the day, taking out any small pieces of dirt or debris from the day. He didn't understand. No, he wasn't a virgin, why were you acting like he was? He held you tighter as he pushed his face into the plush of your neck.

Taking a deep inhale of your scent as he relaxed under your touch.

"Thank you."

You knew how the media treated him, as some sort of sex symbol. Always putting him on a pedestal as the number two hero, fastest hero in all of Japan. It killed you everytime you'd see an article of some made up scandal Keigo was supposedly apart of. You'd compare that article to your boyfriend. The man who'd come home, dragging his feet against the wooden floor. Eyebags under his eyes once he wiped the make up he used to conceal it. He was exhausted, overworked. Yet all the media saw was some one-dimensional man.

With a small hum, you shook your head and pushed a small kiss to your winged boyfriends forehead. Lingering there for a few moments before pulling away. A small smile on your face as you kept your gaze on him.

"You don't need to thank me, Keigs."

"But I should, you-"

You pushed your finger against his lips, a small smirk danced on your lips as you huffed.

"I don't wanna do anything you're not comfortable with. We don't have to do anything soon," With a small sigh, not of disappointment, you pressed your forehead against his. Fluttering your eyes closed as you kept speaking softly. "I kiss you just to kiss you, Keigo. If you don't wanna go too far, we don't have to. I'll be as patient as you need."

Your words hit a chord somewhere in Keigo. He always felt so pressured to do.. Well, anything. Hero work, the Commission, friends, enemies. He had so many things he had to do. But with you? He could go his pace for once. Not Hawks'. Not the man he presented to be, not the fastest hero in Japan. Just Keigo. He could go as slow as he needed, and you'd be there to support him.

"I love you," He whispered softly, his voice trembling just the smallest bit as he kept his emotions in check. Trying not to cry.

"I love you too, my darling."

"I love you," He repeated again. And again. And again. He kept whispering it as he kissed your neck softly, not a tease, not to lead up to something else. But because he could, because he wanted to.

"My gentle angel."

|| GUYS. GUYS. IM CHDBSIUBSIBVIDBLDVSAA i love keigo oml. i love how complex he is, he means sm to me OOOMMMLLLLLL :(( TO BE CLEAR!! im not anti-sex or smth, i js find it interesting to see the difference between hawks and keigo. i can make a whole essay on this

[maskedcrawford]

Permanently Yours

G-Dragon x Reader

Summary: You surprise Jiyong with a tattoo that only makes him more obsessed with you.

Warnings: Pure fluff

A/N: Anon, feel free to let me know if this wasn't what you wanted! I hope you enjoy this sweet story, it was so fun to write!

Requests are OPEN

You walk out of the tattoo parlor with the fresh ink on your skin, examining the art work. You had gotten a few tattoos before after hearing how Ji raved about them. But he knew about those, and they were special to you but this one was going to be special for both of you.

You look at the artwork of a dragon once more in the mirror when you got home. A dragon with the date of your relationship stamped above it. A lot of people told you it was risky to get it because what if you and GD break up? It’s kinda permanent, but you loved the man so much you wanted to put some kind of claim on your body that you were his, even though everyone knew.

“Babe? You here?” you hear him call out. You carefully slide your shirt over your body again to hide the artwork. You had a photoshoot tomorrow for Vogue and wanted to surprise him there with it.

“Hey, jagiya,” he smiles as he see’s you walk out of your shared room. He jogs over to you and wraps his arms around your back, right where the fresh wound is still healing. It’s not like it was a small tattoo, it spanned the space of your back almost completely. He notices you wince before he goes in to give you a hug.

“What? Did I hurt you? Are you ok?” he goes to move around you like he wants to inspect you but you take his hands in yours and bring him back in front of you.

“I’m sore, from a work out today, is all.” You smile as you lie right through your teeth and give him the usual welcome home kiss. You wake up the next morning carefully making sure to clean and moisturize your new art piece. Ji-yong loved art in general and you were sure the masterpiece on your back would get his attention.

“Babe we have to go, I’ll be late,” you giggle as Jiyong fusses with a button on his shirt.

“Here,” you say as she drops his hand like a frustrated child.

“Now you look perfect,” you kiss his nose and he once again places his hand on your back putting unwanted pressure.

“Oh, shit,” he quickly removes his hand, “It’s ok.” You have to practically restrain yourself to not scratch at it.

At the studio you’re getting dressed and Ji is waiting patiently. You fill the photographer in on the plan of how you want to unveil the surprise back piece. He nods in approval, as long as he can use it for the shoot which you oblige.

You take the first few shots, moving in different poses and you notice the look of pride on Ji-yong’s face as you do.

“All right, lets get her changed,” a costume designer shouts and you can barely contain your excitement. Ji-yong sits on his phone on a nearby bench.

“So you can get his reaction right?” you whisper to the photographer who assures you it’ll look great. You walk back to the set with a large towel covering your back. They get you set up and you take a deep breath.

“Ji-yong,” you call over your shoulder. He looks like clearly lost in his phone.

“Come here,” you motion for him. He walks over to you looking concerned.

“We’re gonna have you stand here,” the photographer positions him where he needs to be to be in the shot.

“What, I’m not,”

“Just hold still,” the man says, “3.. 2.. 1.. drop the towel,” he says and you let the towel drape off your back and you turn your head to look over at your boyfriend.

His eyes are wide and his mouth slightly open. He walks up to you, getting a closer look at the dragon.

“What did, babe,” is all he can say before you let out a giggle.

“You like,” you question with the biggest smile on your face.

“I fucking love it! Holy shit that’s so sexy!” He keeps his hands above the tattoo so you don’t have to wash it again.

“This is why you’re back hurt yesterday?” he says partly questioning and partly knowing. You nod your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. He goes around to your front and gives you the biggest kiss. You finish the photo shoot for the day and all your boyfriend can talk about is the tattoo.

“I’m glad you like it, Oppa.” He looks at you like a prized possession. As soon as it’s healed he can’t keep his hands off it, constantly dragging his finger tips across it, and you, as much as he can.

“Its just, you’re really mine now,” he breathes after again staring at it.

“I was yours beforehand.”

“Yeah, but now it’s permanent, no removing me from your life. Not completely.” He smirks.

“I mean, tattoo removal has come a long way,” you tease. He looks genuinely offended for a moment.

“Don’t even joke about that. Now everyone that see’s this knows your mine and that’s how it’s going to stay,” he cups your cheeks giving you a sweet kiss. You smile against his lips happy that he loves the artwork.

When the magazine comes out he practically frames the cover. It’s a picture of you looking over your shoulder with the tattoo clearly visible.

“Right above the bed!” he shouts and you laugh at his child like enthusiasm.

“OH man, and this one needs its own frame,” he starts tearing out all the pictures from the magazine.”

“Babe, I wanted to read those!” you chuckle.

“Here, I got two. One to read and or take with me on the road, and this one is to hang up in our room, proudly displayed. We need something for the living room,” he pauses, “Oh, we’ll do our own little shoot at home,” he wiggles his brows as he gets his camera. You take multiple pictures as he makes sure to capture you in the best positions and lighting, he can, even taking you outside and to shops snapping pictures.

“Babe, I think we have enough,” you say as you sip on the warm beverage in your hand with a heartwarming smile.

“Just one more, hold the cup to your lips, yeah like that,” he takes one last picture and smiles proud of himself.

“Perfect.” Once your home he starts mapping out the areas of where he wants to place the pictures and you can’t help but love how artistic and excited he is.  

“I’m glad you find it so appealing, nae sarang.” You whisper as you put your arms around his waist and hug him from the back.

If you enjoyed and want to support me, buy me a coffee

“A work of art must be treasured. And you my dear, are more priceless than the Mona Lisa,” he compliments with a sweet, deep kiss before turning back to the walls to map out where he wants each picture.

[wizardchampion]

There is no way there wouldn’t be famine, breakdown in manufacturing, and a completely unrecognizable culture.

Modern society and production is extremely interconnected and complex. Each thing you can see in your house was designed in one country, its raw inputs mined in another, its components manufactured in 3 different places, shipped to another country to make whole thing, etc. All of this would break down, because it would take time to figure out how to keep production going, keep shipping going, keep everything running with only half the population.

Remember all the problems the Evergiven caused, and it was just one ship blocking the Suez Canal for a few days? That was just one shipping lane blocked. The impact of half the population being gone is unimaginable.

I can’t imagine the impact on food production. Specialist medical equipment. So thus, it likely would cause death and famine of surviving people.

Even if it didn’t cause famine, house prices would tank, neighborhoods would empty out, as suddenly we have double the housing stock needed, stocks would tank, so suddenly the older population would lose their life savings. Massive deflation halting production causing massive economic downturn. Hard to get a ton of goods. All of this would have a huge impact on the material culture. On top of that is psychological impacts on the survivors. Think of what Black Death did to culture.

Then, five years later once everyone adapted, suddenly the population is double. The initial snap might cause famine and death, but the second DEFINITELY would. Food has a growing season. It’s not like they could suddenly double the food production. Even if somehow in Iron Man’s snap he increased the food stock, they still have to figure out where to store it and ship it to get it to people, etc. There is no way this wouldn’t cause famine.

Also, massive homelessness and loss of worker rights. All of a sudden, half the world needs a job, but it’s not like industry can just instantly start production again for double, and hire all these people right away. All of that would take time, so it would cause massive unemployment and homelessness. The government would need wide reaching programs.

On top of it, where would all of these people live? A bunch of houses would’ve been abandoned, it’s not like a house abandoned for five years would be habitable.

Also, huge inflation, as there would suddenly be double demand for goods, as manufacturing can’t instantly make them. Loss of workers rights, too. Remember how part of the factors contributing to the renaissance was negotiating power of workers after the population was halved? The opposite would happen here. Workers would have no negotiating power.

The globalized world is infinitely interconnected. It can’t just start and stop.

TLDR: the first snap would cause breakdown in goods, massive deflation, economic downtown, lack of goods, huge psychological impact on culture, and likely famine

Second snap would cause massive famine, homelessness, huge unemployment, loss of worker rights, and rapid inflation

The thing is that the most interesting and novel invention of the MCU is a universe where billions of people turned into dust and then were physically reconstituted on the spot five years later, in a world that had just barely adapted to their absence.

That is wild. That is intense! That is a series of pathos-ridden emotionally complex doorstoppers waiting to happen. Half the entire world! All dead! And somehow we coped with that! And now we have to cope with them all being back?

A whole street of empty houses--surely not everyone there became ash. Some of them moved to better places, now opened by the mass mortality. Some of them died afterward. Who will live there now? Even if inheritances are reversed by resurrection, surely leases aren't renewed. What the fuck happens to everyone who remarried?

What happens to the children snapped back to a world where their parents didn't survive, or the reverse?

But they had to then hastily smooth over this utterly batshit sci-fi premise and get the world mostly back to normal working order as rapidly as possible, without too much emphasis on how literally every person in existence has been placed in a mason jar by a narcissist and shaken twice in five years.

So they could get on with more superhero whack-blam business, which is customarily done against a background of Normality.

This is, tragically, the most Comics thing these movies have ever done.

It is beyond satire that they did this immediately before and during a worldwide pandemic that everyone was pressured to smooth over and 'return to normal' about within 2 years if not sooner.

[theambitiouswoman]

Someone asked me how I deal with trauma and challenges and my answer is that I let myself feel everything and go through the motions. I’ve learned from experience that if I don’t, those feelings will resurface later.

For me, processing my thoughts alone takes a minute—By “a minute,” I mean months. Down to a break up. I give myself time to grieve and heal from it. When I give myself space to sit with where I’m at, I���m able to respond to the world without hate, animosity, or defensiveness. Instead of fighting my emotions, I acknowledge them, and that makes all the difference. It doesn’t stop me from improving and focusing on other areas because I am consciously aware.

Learn to be gentle with yourselves during your healing process, glow up process, where ever you are. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself to do everything at once. We are forever evolving, growing and healing. You are human. Some days you’ll feel unstoppable and other days you’ll need to rest and just be. Both are okay. The most beautiful transformations happen when you allow yourself space to grow at your own pace.

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 2

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Snow White featuring Toji! You live in a snowy village and have a crush on your handsome neighbor Toji, unaware that he’s been hired by the queen to kill you.

Part 1 | Part 2

Read Choso x Rapunzel Here!

Read Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty Here!

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Reader as Snow White. Age gap (Reader is early 20’s, Toji is mid 30’s). Rough sex. Slight size difference kink. Death of side characters.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

You awake the next morning to the sound of a fire crackling. For a moment, you wonder how your father managed to tend the fire without your help, then you remember you’re not at home.

Rising up from the rug on the floor, you first notice Toji’s coat falling from your shoulders. Then you notice that you’re naked beneath it. Oh. So that really happened. It wasn’t just another of your dreams. 

You find your dress a few feet away and begin pulling it over your head and tying the laces at the front. A sound comes from behind you, and you turn to see Toji in the kitchen area, standing over the small stove. There’s a kettle being heated. 

“Thought I’d make us some coffee,” he says.

You nod numbly, still processing the night before as you look around. The cabin looks different in the light of day spilling in through the two main windows. What seemed warm and cozy last night looks gray and dull today. 

Looking out a window, you see that the storm is over. There’s no snow, no wind, only the silence that follows a blizzard as the woods are buried under a blanket of heavy white. Trudging through that snow will be difficult, but you feel certain you and Toji can do it. 

You join him at the small table, taking a warm cup and letting it heat your hands for a moment before taking a sip. 

Toji takes a drink of his own, then sits his cup on the table. “We need to talk.”

You look up in alarm. His tone is serious enough to make you worry. Is this going to be the part where he ultimately rejects you? Tells you last night was fun but it can never happen again? 

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and say, “Okay. What do we need to talk about?”

The next words out of his mouth are the last ones you expected. 

“What’s your connection to the queen?”

You blink. “The queen? I’ve never met her.”

He leans slightly over the table, toward you. “Are you sure? Think really hard. Maybe you met her when you were a kid.”

You find yourself drawing back a little from the table, unsure of where he’s going with these questions. “If I ever met her, I don’t remember it,” you say. “Why would you think I have a connection to the queen?”

“Because she hired me to kill you.”

You freeze. What did he just say? Surely you heard him wrong. “Huh?”

His eyes are focused on yours, trapping you in his steely gaze. “The queen hired me to kill you. She told me to make it messy, so it seems personal.”

Your heart begins racing, a spike of fear shooting through you as the warm mug in your hand begins to tremble. You sit it down on the table, nearly spilling it, then look toward the door of the cabin. Could you make it out? 

“Relax,” he tells you. “If I was gonna go through with it, you never would’ve woken up this morning.”

Your eyes return to his face. In a small, shaky voice, you ask, “Why didn’t you?”

His serious expression relaxes a little. “I just decided I like you better alive than dead.”

Hearing him say that calms your nerves a bit. It’s true that it would have been incredibly easy to kill you while you slept, so if Toji was going to murder you, he would have done it then. 

“But why would she want me dead?” you ask. 

Toji leans back against his chair. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. At first I thought it was because you’re prettier than her, but-“

“I am?”

He almost smiles at you. “According to her weird magic mirror anyway.”

Now you’re even more confused. “She has a magic mirror?”

“Yeah. Every day she asks it to show the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. A couple days ago it showed you.”

You feel yourself blushing. Are you that beautiful? You’ve never seen yourself that way, and you don’t recall getting any extra attention in the village. You wonder if Toji agrees with the mirror, but you’re too shy to ask. 

Apparently he can take a hint. 

“I don’t know about the whole kingdom, but you’re definitely a lot more beautiful than the queen,” he says. 

The comment makes your heart skip a beat, but you don’t have time to focus on that. You look up as Toji continues what he was going to say. 

“It’s not just the mirror,” he tells you. “She called you a threat to her rule, then referred to you as a loose end. There’s some connection there.”

Your mind is racing. You’ve never met the queen, unless it was before you were old enough to remember. But why would you have ever met her? “I should ask my father,” you say. “He might know something.”

Toji shakes his head. “It’s a bad idea for you to go back to the village. The queen will have people watching.”

“But I can’t just hide here! My father is ill. He can’t make it on his own. Please, take me back to the village just for a little while, so I can check on him and ask someone to look after him while I’m gone.”

Toji looks at you, at your determined, worried expression, then sighs. “Fine. I’ll take you back, but you can’t stay long. If you wanna live, you’re gonna have to hide out for a while.”

You stand up from the table and move over to hug Toji, who doesn’t hug you back but doesn’t pull away. “Thank you.”

After pulling on your cloak, gloves, boots, and scarf, you join Toji outside the cabin, who is looking out over the forest. “I don’t think anyone followed us here,” he says. “The weather was probably too bad.”

You nod, taking his word for it. The snow is much thicker than the night before, all traces of your footprints long gone. Trudging through this to get back to the village won’t be easy, but you have to do it. You have to check on your father, and ask if he knows about some connection to the queen. 

The trek back is a quiet one. Toji doesn’t talk much, and you feel a bit awkward. Last night you felt so close to him, but today he seems so distant. Did he lure you to the cabin to kill you? If so, what made him change his mind? Was it your love confession? Or the sex? So many questions haunt your mind as you move through the woods. 

When you reach the village, it looks mundane compared to the wild revelations you’ve had this morning. Most villagers are inside, probably huddling around their fireplaces. A few of the men are working to make walking paths through the thick blanket of snow, a couple are hauling firewood into their homes, and a group of children are playing by tossing snowballs at each other. 

It’s all so very normal, you feel perfectly at ease as you open the door to your house and shake the snow from your cloak. You pull off your gloves as you walk through the living area, noting that the fire is going strong. The neighbor must have added more wood last night before leaving. You hear Toji step inside behind you and close the door, but he doesn’t follow you as you make your way to your father’s room. 

Until you scream. 

Because your father is lying in his bed, a sword standing straight up, impaled through his stomach and pinning him to the straw mattress. Blood has soaked the covers and now drips from the bed, making a small pool on the floor. 

Toji rushes into the room, then immediately pulls you into his arms. “Don’t look,” he says, one strong hand rubbing your back. 

After a few seconds, he pulls away and says, “Let me go see what happened.”

You nod, keeping your face turned away as he goes over to examine the scene. Tears are flooding your eyes, no matter how much you wipe them away with your hands. “Who could do this?!” you cry. “He was just a sick old man! He never hurt a soul!”

You hear Toji’s voice from across the room. “This is a standard issue sword for royal guards. The queen must have ordered-“

His voice cuts off, and before you can question it, you hear his footsteps approaching quickly. Then all at once he’s standing right in front of you, his hands firm on your shoulders. 

“Listen very carefully,” he says, looking at you intently. “Your father is still breathing. He looks like he wants to see you. But he is dying. There’s nothing we can do to stop that.”

Your eyes shift over to the grisly scent once again. You nod weakly to Toji, but you can’t stop the hope blooming in your heart. He’s not dead yet! Maybe… maybe you can do something to help him! 

Carefully, with Toji by your side, you step over to the bed. Your father is staring up at you, and his eyes tear up. “My darling…” he whispers, reaching one trembling hand toward your face. 

You grab his hand and hold it tightly, kneeling down to hear him better. “I’m here, father!”

“I have to tell you… who you are…”

“It’s okay! Don’t strain yourself, please!”

His eyes focus in on you, and he seems to gain a bit of strength in his determination to speak to you. “You were born… to the former king and queen… my closest friends…”

You freeze. “What?”

“Your mother died in childbirth… that was true. Your father… wanted a mother for you… so he married the current queen. He died… only two months later.”

Tears are overflowing from your eyes. “You’re my father!”

He smiles, but squeezes your hand and goes on. “The new queen ordered your death… but I begged her… to spare you. She agreed, if I would take you to a remote village… and never tell anyone the truth. You were barely taking your first steps… so I resigned as royal advisor… and raised you as my own.”

Your father pauses and coughs, blood speckling the collar of his shirt. “She broke the agreement,” he says desperately, his grip on your hand tightening. “She fears you will claim… your rightful place as queen! She will come for you!”

Suddenly he lifts his free hand and points toward the dresser on the other side of the bed. “There… in the bottom drawer!”

You press your lips to his forehead. “I understand! I heard you! I’ll be careful and I won’t let the queen kill me!”

A look of relief passes over his pained face. “I was… so proud… to be your father.”

You smile through your tears. “I and I have felt so fortunate to be your daughter!”

A second later, his grip goes slack, his hand sliding from yours and dropping at his side. His eyes are closed now, and you know they will never open again. 

You let out a sob, collapsing across his bed, just above the sword, not caring that blood is staining your dress. 

Minutes pass with no sound in the room but your cries, until you hear Toji’s voice again. You almost forgot he was here. 

“I’m sorry, but we have to go. If you want to keep your promise and not get killed, I need to get you back to the cabin.”

You rise up and look at your father’s face, then toward the dresser. “Wait,” you say, wiping your face again, “he said something about the bottom drawer.”

Toji steps over and yanks the drawer out, his hands rifling through the contents. He holds up an envelope with your name on it, scrawled in your father’s handwriting. “This must be it. You can open it later, but we need to go. The queen no doubt has someone watching your house, and once they report that you’re here, she’ll send a whole company of soldiers.”

“What? Why so many?!”

“Because by now she knows I didn’t do the job, and I’m with you,” Toji says. “She knows she’ll need a fuck ton of soldiers to deal with me.”

You wonder about that, about how Toji knows the queen so well. He was just a Huntsman, right? But you don’t have time for questions now. You rush to your room and shove some clothing into a bag, then meet Toji at the front door. You glance back a toward your father’s room. “What about his burial?”

Toji is opening the door and ushering you toward it. “A neighbor will find him and take care of it. He’d much rather you get away safely than make sure he gets a proper burial. Trust me.”

You wonder if that’s his opinion as a father, but remain silent as you step outside. Just as you do, you hear a strange sound, like something moving quickly through the air. You turn to your right, where you see a thin blade stabbing straight toward you. 

Toji sees the attacker before she even turns. He reaches forward and catches the blade between his thumb and fingers, then wrenches it free of the soldier’s grasp. Before the soldier can even react, Toji has slammed an elbow into his face, shattering his nose and knocking him to the ground. 

The soldier clasps one hand over his bloody face, staring up at Toji with wide eyes. 

Toji holds the blade up, quickly examining it. “Wonder why you’re using your side dagger and not your sword,” he says, meeting the soldier’s indignant gaze. “You’re the one who killed the old man, aren’t you?”

The soldier removes his hand and yells in a broken voice, “I did what my queen asked of me! Unlike you, you traitorous dog!”

Toji’s eyes slide over to his lovely neighbor, curious what sort of reaction she has to this conversation. Will she be horrified? Sad? No. When Toji sees her face, there’s only rage there. Hell, if she had a weapon she’d probably kill this guy herself. 

That’s surprising.

But they don’t have time to indulge her. Toji flips the dagger around to point the blade downward, then rams it into the soldier’s throat. Blood bubbles up from the man’s mouth, his body jerking as he dies. 

Toji grabs her hand and pulls her along with him, taking her back into the woods where they can disappear. The queen probably has at least one more agent in the area to keep watch, but there’s no way they’re half as familiar with these woods as Toji is. 

An hour later, the two of them are back in the cabin. It should be safe for now. Only local hunters know about the cabin, and it’s located deep in the woods. 

Toji isn’t sure what to say to the crying young woman who quickly went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. He’s never been great at consoling people. When his wife died, he didn’t want anyone to speak to him. Even hearing someone breathe nearby made him angry. But he moved on, eventually. He never stopped thinking of his wife, never stopped missing her, but it got easier as the years went by.

Over the next few days, Toji doesn’t see much of his “housemate”. She comes out of the bedroom occasionally to eat the food Toji hunts and cooks or to use the bathroom. She doesn’t talk much, except to thank Toji for his help and say she has a lot to think about. 

For his part, Toji is uncertain how he feels about her, how much time and energy he wants to put into protecting her. She’s the true heir to the throne, and he’d love nothing more than to see the queen lose her crown, but this heir is so sweet, so naive, he doubts she’ll decide to pursue it. 

And if she doesn’t… well, he likes her but he’s not going to risk his life for someone content to hide for the rest of her life. 

After five days have passed, she emerges from the bedroom and stands in front of Toji in the kitchen, the envelope he found in the drawer clutched in her hand. 

“It’s a letter from my father,” she says, “explaining what he told me in more detail. He thought the queen had the king - I mean my birth father - killed, but could never find proof.”

Toji sighs. “Sounds like something the queen would do.”

She holds out a silver necklace. “He also left me this. I think it’s supposed to be important.”

Toji takes the necklace and looks closely at the pendant. He recognizes it instantly. It’s in the shape of a cross that ends in an anchor, with golden vines wrapped around it. “This is the royal family’s crest,” he tells her. “Every kid born to the royal family is given one of these. It’s basically proof you’re the heir.””

He hands the necklace back to her and she stares at it numbly. All of this must seem surreal to her. A week ago she was just a normal young woman living in a small village. Today she’s the rightful queen of the land. 

She looks up at him, meeting his gaze. “Toji, can you please help me?”

Here it comes. She’s going to ask him to protect her, to help her hide or perhaps escape to a neighboring kingdom. She’s such a pure, sweet woman, but he’ll turn her down. 

“Help you do what?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 

“Kill the queen.”

Toji blinks. Did he hear her right? 

She goes on, unbothered by his confusion. “She killed both my fathers, and wants to kill me. I can’t forgive that, and I can’t just walk away. I don’t even know if I want to be a ruler, but I know I can’t tolerate her sitting on the throne.”

Toji can’t stop a grin from spreading over his face. “Tell you what, if you pay off my gambling debts once you get access to the royal treasury, I’ll kill anyone you want.”

She steps closer, putting one hand on his arm. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without your help. You’ve saved me twice now. I knew I was right when I said you’re a good man.”

There’s a spark of something kinetic between them, and Toji thinks she’s much more attractive now than she was a few days ago. The fiery resolve in her eyes is intoxicating. But he laughs as he says, “A good man who just agreed to kill someone for money.”

“Someone who deserves it,” she says back, her body inching closer to his. 

Toji’s arms wrap around her, pulling her up against him. “I like this new side of you,” he says.

She looks away almost shyly, but seems to relax in his arms. “I don’t think it’s new. Something just had to drag this side of me out.”

He leans down and kisses her, lightly grinding his hips into her. “I can drag something out of you alright, but only if I can ram it back in.”

Her eyes flick up to his face again. In a small voice, she says, “You can do whatever you want to me. Because I love you.”

Toji suddenly pushes you against the nearest wall, your back scraping the wood of the cabin. His hands are tearing your dress open and jerking it down off your shoulders. His movements are hurried, as if he can’t wait to get you undressed. It’s so very different from the way he touched you before. There’s an urgency this time. 

Maybe last time he was just indulging a love struck young woman. Now it seems like his passion has truly been ignited. 

You pull at his shirt, eager to see that perfectly sculpted body again. He obliges you, ripping the fabric open so fast that the buttons are sent scattering across the floor. Your hands glide over his chest, feeling the muscles there, feeling his heartbeat. 

He pulls your dress the rest of the way down, letting it pool at your feet, then down go your panties. You step out of the pile of clothes and kick them out of the way, then wrap your arms around Toji’s neck as he pick you up. Your legs move around his waist as he settles you in the right position against him. 

When his throbbing cock plunges into your drenched pussy, you cry out, then bury your face in his shoulder. He fucks you against the wall, your body sandwiched tightly between it and Toji’s firm body. With each thrust, your back hits the wood again. You know you’ll have bruises tomorrow, but right now you don’t care. 

You just want to forget. In these moments of mindless pleasure, you want to forget your father dying before your eyes, your burdensome lineage, the fact that your life has been turned upside down. You only want to feel Toji inside you, filling the emptiness you’ve felt the past few days. 

His hands are on your thighs, his fingers leaving imprints in your skin, his mouth finding yours and devouring your lips. His thrusts become harder, rougher, leaving you whimpering his name and begging for more. You want him to claim your body, make it his, reduce you to a crying mess so that you won’t have to think about anything else. 

His skin is so hot against yours, his muscled abdomen rubbing exactly the right spots to send you over the edge. When you cum, he’s kissing you, eyes open and staring at your face, his grip on your thighs tightening almost painfully. He doesn’t stop fucking you, his hips continuing to buck into you as you go limp against his chest. 

Before he cums, Toji pulls out of you, splashing the wall with his seed before easing you back onto your feet. You fall into blissful oblivion as he places your exhausted body on the couch. 

It’s late in the morning the next day when Toji tells you he’s leaving the cabin for a few hours. “I know a few former guards who hate the queen as much as we do,” he says. “They might be willing to help us.”

You nod as you pour yourself a cup of tea in the kitchen. Any help at all would be very welcome. Even if it’s just someone to distract the guards while you and Toji sneak into the castle. 

Toji gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head before stepping out, and you settle into the couch to read a book you grabbed from home. The first couple of hours pass uneventfully, the only sounds in the cabin being the crackling of the fire and the pages of your book being turned.

But in the afternoon, there comes a knock at the cabin door. You freeze, wondering who it might be. Toji wouldn’t knock. Is it a hunter from the village? Or, the more frightening possibility, a royal guard or soldier who spotted Toji in town and knows you’re alone? 

You quietly get up from the couch and creep over to the door, hoping to hear some clue that could help you determine who is on the other side. There’s a knocking again, and it strikes you that it’s not a very hard knock. Then you hear a voice. 

“Hello? Is anyone here?” 

It sounds like an old woman. It’s a weak, frail voice. Still, you can’t be too careful in this situation, so you don’t answer. 

“Please, if anyone’s here, could you help me?” the voice pleads. “My legs gave out. I just need somewhere warm to sit and rest for a bit before walking back home. I saw the smoke from the chimney.”

You move to the nearest window and peek out, toward the door. You don’t see anyone. No soldiers, no hunters. You don’t have a direct line of sight to the woman, but if there was anyone with her, you’d probably see them. 

After a few more moments, you hear soft footsteps crunching snow, and a small old lady steps into view as she limps away from the door. She looks so pitiful, so weak, you find yourself running to the door and opening it. 

The woman turns around and looks at you, then smiles. “Oh, bless you, dear!”

You hurry over and take a basket from her hand, noting it’s unusual heft, as you help her inside. 

“What are you doing out in the woods alone?” you ask her as she eases herself onto the couch with a groan. 

“I was crossing through from town back to the village,” she says. 

You fix her a cup of warm tea and sit down beside her. “That’s an awfully heavy basket you’ve got.”

She laughs and pulls the basket into her lap. “I’m a fruit seller,” she says, opening the basket and revealing several red, shiny apples. “Would you like one?”

“Oh, that’s alright!” you tell her.

She pulls one apple out and reaches it to you. “Consider it a gift for letting me warm up in your cabin.”

You hesitantly take the apple and sit it on a small table beside the couch. “Thank you. It looks delicious.”

The old woman smiles kindly. For the next half hour, she sits and chats with you, telling you about her husband who died two years ago and her no good son who refuses to help her sell fruit. Then, she slowly gets to her feet and bids you farewell. 

After watching her disappear into the forest, you close the door to the cabin and return to the couch, picking up the apple as you go. 

Toji is in town, waiting to meet up with a former guard he was friendly with, when a hunter he recognizes from the village approaches him. 

“Hey, Toji. Are you still using that old hunting cabin in the woods?” he asks. 

Toji’s eyes automatically narrow. “Not recently,” he lies. “Why?”

“There was an old fruit seller asking if anyone lived out in the woods. I told her about the cabin but stressed that no one’s usually there. I think she went anyway.”

“A fruit seller?” Toji asks, feeling a sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. 

The Hunter nods. “An old woman. She had a basket full of apples.”

Toji frowns. “Apples in the dead of winter?”

The man shrugs. “I guess she had a late harvest.”

Toji leaves. He wastes no time with small talk or goodbyes. He simply runs as fast as he can back to the woods, because he remembers something the queen told him years ago. Something he’d dismissed as delusional fantasy at the time. 

She said that if she utters a specific incantation in front of the magic mirror, it can change her appearance to look like anyone she wants. 

If that was true, then the old woman could have been…

He stops thinking, only focusing on running. He tears through the woods at inhuman speed, and in record time he arrives at the cabin. He throws the door open and runs inside. 

There he finds her, his young lover, sprawled on the floor in front of the couch, a half eaten apple lying a few inches from her outstretched hand. 

[kedreeva]

This is for a story so it's not a huge deal (and there's already a bit of fantasy elements so I'm willing to handwave some stuff if necessary) but what would be the closest a peacock could get to hot pink? I saw purple morphs, but unfortunately my attempts at further research were inundated with AI slop and clickbait :(

Sooo, the closest that peafowl have CURRENTLY gotten to "pink" would probably be peach or European Violet.

Here is a good, light peach.

They are a very delicate, powder orange color. Genetically, they are cameo + purple, and the purple gene means they come in a paler version (light peach like above) and a darker version (dark peach or 'northern' peach as it's sometimes called, as it's often seen more in the northern US than the southern.... this could mean the variance is also more heavily affected by sun exposure, as sun exposure is less in the north). Here's what I mean by dark peach:

Your other "best bet" for current peafowl would be taupe, but taupe tends to be "cooler" than peach (ie, cold-color undertones, giving it a more "powder blue" feel than "powder orange" feel)

Here are a few Taupe birds in warm light

vs a taupe in cool light

Genetically, taupe is opal + purple, so you get a more grey look on them than the brighter cameo orange look.

Peach, being genetically a cameo, has no iridescence (it's "matte" in color), whereas taupe does still have some iridescence at least on the head.

Your other option is the european violet. While purples tend to look like strange blues in overcast weather, violets maintain their purple look even in dimmer lighting, and they tend to have a very "warm" purple compared to American purple's "cold" purple.

EV on an overcast day

vs american purple in shade

and EV in sun:

You can see a lot redder tones in the chest and wings than on purples.

So, those are what you'd be able to work with, for CURRENT birds. If there were a case of chromosomal crossover that could repeat to make "peach" but with cameo and EV, then maybe that bird would be pinker than peach.

But, what you ACTUALLY probably want, is a peafowl who has, like, erythrism and maybe pale leucism. Erythristic animals have high red phenotypes, and in some animals, like katydids, erythrism results in pink. Like HOT pink.

So a high-red animal would get you into the realm of at least having reds, if not just having pinks from the get-go, and then pale leucism does what it says on the tin and lightens colors over the whole body of the bird. In peafowl, you miiiiight get away with this effect using the silver white eye gene (the white eye allele that causes body "silvering" ie pale leucism effect.

For example, here's a cardinal with pale leucism:

So that's kinda where I would start with it. Erythrism + pale leucism.

But for peafowl, you would need to consider that RED as pigment is a really uncommon pigment for birds to produce all on their own. Cardinals and flamingos largely get their color from their diets (which are high in carotenoids), not necessarily by self-produced red pigments. There are some parrots who produce unique red pigments, but most of peafowl color comes from structural iridescence, not plain pigment.

So, any mutation that causes a difference in the structure of the barbules on the feathers could mean a fairly drastic change in the color we see on them (which is another important factor.... peafowl color includes ultraviolet spectrum that we don't see, but they do, so do your characters see into that spectrum? peafowl might already be pink to them). So rather than a gene that alters pigments, you could have a gene that alters feather structure. Stuff like satin in mice causes hollow fur and causes a mouse that looks shiny like it's made of satin. When peafowl get wet, their trains can look red or even fire orange.

[azzandra]

Aw, man, can't believe it's been two years since I wrote that.

When I reblogged and added my little commentary, I actually hadn't anticipated my comment to be reblogged by more than a couple of mutuals or be seen outside of my followers. I was just sharing a term that popped up in my head as a joke.

If I knew this glib comment I dashed off one morning without much thought was going to breach containment and take on a life of its own, I probably would have added a few disclaimers.

Since then, I've seen some people miss the point about what I was talking about in a few huge ways, so I'll clarify now a few points:

I have nothing against the cockroach wife dude.

I don't know if that story is true or not (there are some weird people out in the world, so I won't dismiss it out of hand, but like. come on) and I sincerely do not care that his spankbank was exclusively taken up by a cockroach woman. The part of his tale that we should take as a parable is where he solely and without being forced by anyone else hinged his entire sexuality around an imaginary construct that then made him incapable of being attracted to real human women. Remember, his story starts with him complaining that he can't get it up with his human girlfriend without picturing her as a huge cockroach. He did that. Nobody forced him to develop this condition. This is a lesson for the rest of us.

people going 'I think they're both pretty!' like that's the centrist silver bullet to this phenomenon.

Listen, yeah. I agree. Both versions are meant to be attractive, just to wildly different demographics. You know who doesn't agree? The guys I'm talking about.

The dudes I am referencing do NOT think both characters are attractive to different people. They think the original is attractive to NOBODY, and everyone else in the world is just PRETENDING that the first one is attractive in any way, and they're convinced everyone else also objectively knows the original art is ugly but there's a conspiracy to subject poor defenseless heterosexual men to pictures of butt-ugly women in order to brainwash them or something.

The guys afflicted with Cockroach Wife Syndrome are on some gamerbro qanon shit where their perception of reality is slanted to a comical degree, but they think their experiences are objective and unbiased, and they're making it everyone else's problem.

people smugly going 'OP has an anime girl in their icon' like that's some sort of gotcha

Yeah, man, I'm not opposed to anime girls. I'm not even opposed to hentai, or blender porn, or masturbation. I think everyone deserves to masturbate if they want to, and the way the world is going, we all probably deserve to masturbate a lot more (porn addiction isn't a real thing, my dudes). I accept that some people are going to jerk it to stuff that I don't find attractive, and maybe consider repulsive, and that's just going to be a fact of life from here unto eternity. We all need to come to terms to that.

But the Cockroach Wife Syndrome sufferers do NOT want to accept it. They want the entire world to have only one porn preference that aligns neatly to their own, and also they want all fictional depictions of women everywhere to adhere precisely to their porn preference.

And like, why would we do what these guys say? Now, me, personally, each time I see one of their yassified sexy edits of an already pretty female character, it always looks like the tackiest shit to me, like they're a toddler who got into mommy's make-up. I want to start a GoFundMe to send them to beautician school. I don't care how much they screech about it, they cannot convince me their aesthetic tastes are something to emulate, so I coined this term for them just so I had a name for their obnoxious behavior.

All that being said, in the time since I wrote this post, I discovered it gained some traction outside of tumblr. "Cockroach Wife Syndrome" was added to Urban Dictionary. There are people slinging around the term on twitter. I personally got jumpscared by running into it in the wild on reddit, which was how I found out people are actually using it. Honestly, I am not that hyped about this being my legacy (and I am so sorry to the OP of this post that I got them stuck with seeing every reply or tag someone ever makes about the cockroach wife guy, like I'm some malevolent storytime cuckoo who dropped disturbing internet tales in their nest). But ultimately, I think this one is actually on the thousands of people who reblogged it and considered that I described a phenomenon that they also observed.

Y'all stay safe out there, and remember to vary your masturbation material once in a while.

i wish i could see this picture for the first time again

[cosmowgyral]

"Lover's Contract: A night of immoral deeds"

▪︎ Nica Schwartz

This is a fan translation, not 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. Expect grammatical inconsistencies.

Since Nica is not yet out in the EN server, there might be terms that will turn out different than what I have used here when he is finally released. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

A big thank you to Ciele (@.judesmoonbeauty) for providing me with the video of the epilogue. ♡

Epilogue

Kate: Ni-Nica, stop.

He licks the red bite marks repeatedly, proving I’m his.

He leaves peckish kisses down my neck again and again.

Even though it was just a little stimulation, after it was repeated multiple times, I started to feel hot and my entire body began to shake.

He gave me an exaggerated blow, and laughed a little as he saw me writhe.

Nica: What? Are you feeling it?

Kate: That’s not it.

Nica: Then why are you staring at me with such a flushed face?

He strokes my cheeks with the back of his fingers, twirling the ends of my hair and playing with them.

Nica: If it feels that good, I want you to do it too.

Kate: Huh, ah!

A hand reaches under my armpit and I am lowered from the railing. Nica then switches our positions.

Nica: Come now, put it on me too.

I hesitated when Nica pointed to his neck——

Nica: The Crown—

Kate: I-I’ll do it! It’s okay to do it, right?

Feeling threatened, I hastily placed my lips on his neck.

Despite its slender appearance, his neck is well-defined, with muscles that are normally invisible, now appearing and disappearing.

The aroma of ylang-ylang wafts from his Adam’s apple, which rises and falls with each breath, almost mesmerising me, but—.

Kate: Mmph, uh

Pursing my lips, I sucked again and again changing my angle, but the red mark never appeared.

Kate: Mm?

(I’m not good at it at all.)

As I struggled, I heard a voice coming from above my head and looked up.

Then I saw him with his eyebrows lowered and a happy smile on his face.

Nica: You’re no good at all, Robin.

He said the words while wiping away tears from too much laughter.

I couldn’t respond as my eyes were drawn to him.

Nica: Giving up?

Kate: Huh, oh, I’m still going.

I hurriedly tried to make a mark, but the colour was faint and it didn’t turn out as I had expected.

He then touched the side of my neck that didn’t have love bites.

Nica: Let me show you how it works.

Kate: Mmm

Red marks form on my neck once more.

Neck, collarbone, nape..

The slight pain that accompanies the sound of lips causes the red marks to become more noticeable.

Kate: Ni-ca

(What should I do? I know I’m not supposed to like it.)

As the number of bites increases, I can feel my excitement rising.

He finally parted his lips and licked them with his tongue.

Nica: See, now do it like this.

He puts his hand around the back of my head and presses my face into the crook of his neck.

I tried to imitate him but failed again.

(If this goes on….)

I bared my teeth and bit into his beautiful neck.

However, it seems that I bit harder than I intended.

Nica: Nngh!

Kate: I’m so sorry! Did that hurt?

Startled by the bite, Nica put his hand on the bitten spot with a shocked look on his face.

He touched the area where the bumps are clearly visible with his fingertips.

He then grinned and stroked the love bites on my neck—.

Nica: Mm, matching.

My heart was pounding loudly.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Kate: Excuse me.

A few days later, Nica called me to the reception room.

Nica: Here you are. I’ve been waiting for you, Robin.

Kate: You needed me for something...w-whoaa!

I couldn't contain my amazement when I saw the vibrant boxes of sweets on the table.

Kate: What is all this?

Nica: Do you remember the husband from when we infiltrated the lover’s club?

Kate: Yes.

Nica: The man actually owns a sweet manufacturing company. So I received a lot of sweets as a thank you.

Nica: I couldn’t have these all by myself, so I want you to take some too.

Kate: Is that okay?

Nica: Consider it a reward for going on the mission with me.

Stacks of biscuit tins and glittery chocolates.

Cute looking candies and sweet-smelling caramel.

(Which one should I choose…?!)

Choosing one is fun, so I started selecting and analysing each one.

Nica: If you’re that interested, you can have them all.

After hearing Nica, I shook my head sternly.

Kate: No, I can’t. If I eat them all, I’ll get fat.

Nica: You’re slim enough for me to lift you up easily.

Kate: That’s….

Suddenly remembering what happened a few days back, I stopped examining the sweets and looked at him.

Kate: Oh…

As he was sitting on the sofa and resting his head on the backrest, I could see the teeth mark on his neck and I couldn’t help but let out a cry.

Then, noticing my gaze, Nica opened the collar of his shirt to show it off.

Nica: This has hardly faded.

Nica: That goes for you too, right, Robin?

I had unconsciously placed my hand on the spot where the love bites were on my neck, but I quickly removed it.

Nica: There’s no point in doing that. They’re clearly visible once you look up.

Feeling embarrassed, I tried to look away, but he pulled me by the arm and brought his lips close to my neck.

Nica: Hey, Kate.

Nica: Should I renew our contract?

It seems I still can’t escape from him.

[Premium End] [Masterlist]

➽──────────────❥

Note: The hickeys were referred to as "red flowers blooming" here, but it sounded plain weird, so I changed them all to red marks.

[olderthannetfic]

Unhinged confession time: I used to functionally fake having a self-insert OC. Everyone insisted that all people had one and that no one actually didn't have one or picture themselves in the story they were writing. I got hit with a lot of "oh, so you're lying. you're lying because you're ~*~not like other girls~*~, right? you're soooo much better than us because you would never stoop to our level, right?" and eventually I just caved. I gave up. I wrote an OC with my name and hair color in an obligatory, barely-there relationship with the fandom bicycle. That fic hardly ever updated, usually once or twice a year when I was bored. It made people stop accusing me of being full of internalized misogyny and contempt for women.

I have never pictured myself in stories. I don't picture myself when I masturbate. I don't make myself in games with customization and clothing. I don't daydream about myself. I don't have any desire to fuck the fandom bicycle, who I think actually is really annoying and needs intense therapy before he'd even be able to say something that wasn't hiding behind irony or trite MCU style humor. I was blatantly, obviously way more interested in shipping someone else with an OC who does not share my ethnicity, gender, age, economic background or upbringing. But woman = self-insert so if you don't self-insert, you must be against women.

Eventually fandom drama went down and I quietly retreated to writing on a different account. Being attached to any of the shit-stirrers was murder on the comments' section in that it immediately became all about so-and-so and not, you know, the story. And yes, starting from zero means less comments overall, but I would rather have no comments than comments about drama I wasn't even involved in directly.

Other than when doing so was needed to stay in the good graces of BNF in the main fandom Discord server, I've never written a self-insert and I was very glad to never have to do so again. It's so fucking boring. But if you think that, you must have low self-esteem or internalized misogyny or think you're soooo much better than everyone. You must, deep down, want to write an OC just like you! For representation and escapism and empowerment! Because no one could ever enjoy digging into the headspace of someone different than them, obviously. We all like to imagine ourselves all the time, right?

No. I don't. I like creating characters. I don't want to remake me again and again and again and again. I didn't even draw myself in my drawings when I was three years old in preschool. I don't know why I'd be into it now. "It's relatable!" I don't need a character to be identical to me to relate to them! I can relate to a character who's very different from me, and that's not rare, or weird, or unusual! Every single person reading this can think of a character who's very different from them who they related to or felt for in some way.

I think selfshippers and self-insert OC writers get too much flack. I do. But I loathe the "everyone does it!" mentality used to defend it because it always ends up back at this point where everyone who doesn't stands by going, "No, actually, I don't. And pretending I do is boring as tar."

--

I once read some sexuality researchers the riot act for leaving this axis out of their study. Their response: "But the older research we're comparing to left it out, so we have to as well or the results won't line up in a useful way!"

Self inserting makes my skin crawl in a dysphoric way. This is common among AFAB m/m shippers I've known in particular, but I suspect it's plenty common in general.