#<- because whipping girl is the book that coined

[rabid-catboy]

Trying to read whipping girl. Fascinated by the world Serano lives in where butch dykes have never been called traitors for their masculinity. "Female-bodied" people are never forced into feminity and cis women are brave for wearing makeup and skirts to work in her world, I guess. Wish I lived there. (Also, the idea that men being weird about purses and lipstick is somehow evidence that feminity can be more fierce and dangerous than masculinity is absolutely bonkers. Why are we defining fierceness based on men's reactions)

Oh, nevermind, apparently trans women are ridiculed for masculinity and only trans women, no one else. No other group woman or person seen as such has faced that

But wait! To ridicule masculinity would require questioning it, I thought 🤔 I guess that logic doesn't apply to trans women, though, just everyone else, for some reason (choosing to ignore the phrasing of "*perceived* masculine tendency" because the word perceived there literally changes nothing. all masculinity is perceived masculinity)

P.S. I believe those are called "personality traits" and the categorization of them into a gendered binary is perhaps artificial actually

P.P.S. These quotes are not necessarily in the order they are arranged in within the book, but, given they were written by the same person, and the context and order of them in the book doesn't make them any better, I do not feel that presenting them out of order is deceitful

[plaidos]

i know there’s so much more to transfeminism than Whipping Girl, but you would not believe the amount of people i’ve managed to get to shut up by saying, “you are mistaken about the definition of transmisogyny. it’s outlined in the book Whipping Girl, which coins the term, and you should probably read that work before wading into a discussion about what transmisogyny is or isn’t”. while some people are still really shitty and abrasive about it, others are more sympathetic to, “sorry, i don’t really want to have this discussion with somebody who hasn’t done any research on the topic” than you’d assume. i think it’s probably because they realise how much a fool of themselves they are making by proudly sharing an opinion on something they’ve done no reading on and then openly admitting they hadn’t done any reading on it. it’s effective! you should try it sometime.

[oceanlipgloss]

PROJECT: CHOCOLATE FACTORY

ZAYNE.

+ no warnings.

+ guest appearance: Mr. Beanieee

Throughout history, thousands of mountains have heard millions of wishes; many prayers were the same, many pleas were not. A lot of souls wished for different lives, changed times, or new realities altogether, perhaps.

In an alternate reality, even a chocolate factory can morph into a whimsical land. In an odd, timeless storybook like the one in her hand, nothing had to change, for better or for worse. Everything would stay as it had always been centuries ago in the same old world.

Little men sung silly little songs. Surreal scenes were frosted with surreal concepts. Everything was a dessert of some sort. Chocolate waters, sugar fields, marzipan flowers: universal confections were whipped up into unlikely things.

He liked it all, but it also challenged him. The descriptions were delicious and vivid, and sweets are one thing he can never resist. Imagination brings forth wonder.

The world of children founds itself on strange fun. Cradled her delicate palms, the violet book winked its golden print at the sun. Such smart design; someone had thought of turning a book into a chocolate bar. Like it was something yanked straight out of the story itself, from its whimsy lines.

She had tugged at his wrist and led him in. There was a charming project on her mind. By the foot of her bed, they cuddled on that fluffy carpet; it was like sitting on a soft pancake. A white blanket melted itself over their warm bodies, like a vanilla milkshake.

The two of them took turns reading lines. She voiced the unpleasant women and their bratty girls, he all the men and their unalike boys. Oh, and the narrator, too. Why not? She adored the haven in his voice and the syrup-sweet rasp of its octaves.

A celebrated artist’s mind had left a figment of its quirky self on the pages. Wispy, joyous, childlike—that was what the illustrations were like. Sugar powdered the story, coated it, swirled within it in many forms, but somehow the children were all but one as spoilt as rotten milk.

The starry tinkle of coins being stacked up into thin golden towers didn’t distract anyone, not really. Those should have been chocolate coins, but they weren’t. Their maker was custard-yellow and jellybean-chubby, and it wore a suit so fancy it was tacky. Plopped on the carpet, it spawned the gold chips continuously only to count them continuously. Reminded him of a dough mixer going round and round, round and round, in the same circles.

Though, it didn’t seem to mind. Money is enough to summon bliss, some believe. The wealthy tubby itself was content; surrounded by desserts—cakes, candies, cookies, gummies—yet giving them not a glance from under its liquorice-black sunglasses. It didn’t have a taste for the simple things, so it wasn’t able to appreciate them. Riches, currency, and luxury gave it happiness.

So far, it has been harmless. When it lay on its tummy and swayed its stubby legs in the air like a high school girl dabbing at her nails with polish, or maybe daydreaming over a magazine about her celebrity crush, its figure squished and melted onto the velvet quilt it had pulled out of a gift box and sat on, like the dripping caramel that glazes crème caramel.

The story made him crave sweets even more. He did not know whether this creature could make appear chocolate coins, but he didn’t bother to ask it to either. Because...he wanted to walk with her so they would buy them together later.

As they read together, he felt quiet awe glaze his thoughts. There were many unpredictable things in the world, but just where, pray tell, do some gifted humans get such quaint ideas from? And how do they manage to weave them into genius creations as though spun sugar?

The answer lied in the word ‘gift.’

Something tapped his mouth. A sweet scent drifted. The saccharine scent of manufactured blueberries. She was pressing a blue-purple macaron to his lips. Her grin was wide, her eyes twinkled at him, and her merry silence screamed, ‘eat it!’

He remembered that long-ago visit to the dentist. Those were the norm now, but still equally dismaying and much dreaded. Back then she had teased him with tiny macarons and forbade him from indulgence so cloyingly delightful it might as well conjure up decay.

Until he stopped her.

Toothache or not, ignoring the tempting call of sweets for an extended period wasn’t ever meant to be part of the plan. She would have told him that he’s acting like a child with his aching sweet tooth—what with the way ‘doctor’s orders’ apply to her, but rarely, if ever, to him—but he was so cute, desperate for sugar as he was.

So much like a sulky cat.

Well, a sly cat.

The little macaron had hid in his stomach before she so much as expected him to bite it out from between her naughty fingers.

Familiar fingertips were warm when they poked his meringue-pink cheek. She was smiling again. The haughty creature in the room was forgotten. Let it count its coins.

‘Would they believe me?’

Her touch hushed his lips and its warmth said, ‘don’t ask.’

‘If I told them I met a big, happy snowman?’

Yes.

Let the haughty creature in the room be forgotten like molten snow in the morning. Let it count its endless coins. Let everyone continue to not know any better. All he needed was what he had with her.

The silly girl by his side was quite like this story and the founder of its chocolate factory: weird, thoughtful, free. She danced to her own melody, and while she did she made sure to hold his hand, too.

If he got lost in her warm happiness yet again, would she think it’s cheesy?

He couldn’t help it.

She is magnetic.

And her smile, it’s so pretty.

+notes: sooo I'm making a series [title: 5B] in which the Bounty Hunt wanderers star in my fics. Basically, each LI gets a fic in which a Bounty Hunt wanderer appears; so far, Xavi has gotten teamed up with Heartbreaker my babyyy and Zayne just got stuck with Mr. Beanie. That's the only shared concept between the fics—the entire idea of each piece differs otherwise. Some context about this piece: sugar is Zayne's 2nd soulmate after MC, so I thought...what if he & MC read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in her house together? Cuddling by her bed. Blanket included. Oh, and toss Mr. Beanie into the batter.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[velvetvexations]

transemasculation: for when you think freud was right about penis envy but ONLY for dirty little trannies (but seriously what the fuck is with this term? who thought this was a good ide- oh, right, ASSHOLES!)

it's really funny because I would make jokes about how TRFs don't want transmascs to make their own language without sending it in for approval to the Transfem Council and now the famous self-identified transradfem is like "here you stupid little boys I made you a word to use if you want one so bad."

That transemasculation shit is the most obvious set up to just keep making fun tmascs because people generally think emasculation is a funny and harmless nonissue maybe even #feminism. Like whats the bet if we did start using it how they want us to people would just immediately start connecting it to our “toxic transmasculinity” to dismiss it / continue to paint us as whiny MRAs anyway ?

it's so fucking belittling

One of the most frustrating parts of when a trans fem posts transandrophobic stuff openly for the first time is how any disagreement harsher than silence gets taken as "men abusing women" and held up as proof that she was right to be wary of trans mascs all along, because look how quickly we will turn on a trans fem and attack her—any negative feelings she has over the incident are just more evidence that she is a victim under siege and right to feel this way.

the wounded gazelle gambit is very popular

The thing that bugs me about transmasc on this site who called themselves TME is that I never see them doing any actual activism for trans women, they specifically just talk down on other transmasc users. Like it comes off so fake-

that's Feminist in Bio men for you

Kinda crushed to see bee/movie/erotica post that? Like??? Yeah white trans people can hold power over me but what the fuck do you think you're doing calling my maness the same as whiteness. my maness cant be the same as whiteness because I am not fucking white. hellworld.

I'm very sorry they let you down, anon. <3

You can tell TRFs are terfs because they do the same thing that terfs do where they point to people who call them baeddels and say that their critics are calling them slurs, and then a few days later will self-identify as baeddels again

they complained so much that I very generously got people to almost entirely saying TRF instead and immediately they just go "TRF is a slur to silence me :("

"the nefarious genderqueers think they're so much more radical and valid than us while the whole queer community actually caters to them, we need more representation for Real Binary Transsexuals" is a recurring theme in Whipping Girl so no wonder it's a common refrain for the "read a singular book" crowd

they do as they are taught

i really like your sense of humour btw

Thank you!

anyways all this patricia taxxon stuff is kinda just making me more motivated to make autistic transmasc therian video essays.

as you should honestly

because i love answering questions not aimed at me, re: is cheating abuse no, but it's a dick move that can be a part of abuse. abuse in a relationship is, for the most part, long term and actively emotionally/physically harmful to at least one person. cheating can be a part of abuse (for example, the fact the abuser cheated in the past, can be held over the abusees (? idk if that's the right term) head.) but alone it isn't. i hooe this made sense. i woke up two minutes ago and have thoughts! i would love to hear yours, because peoples opinions differ a lot in subjects like this

I think I agree with that.

Tall fat hairy women <3

<3

WOOFWOOF... HELLO BEAUTIFUL

;)

I’ve seen a few of your anons discussing the proposal of ‘transemasculation’ to replace ‘transandrophobia’ but I’m not sure that anyone has shared this info yet: https://www.tumblr.com/weepingfireflies/770239720162738176/im-not-even-transmasc-or-transfem-but-the essentially, ‘transemasculation’ was coined years ago by a transmasc user alongside other terms for related and adjacent discrimination/bigotry/etc.; the user who is trying to speak over transmascs about our our terminology and experiences apparently didn’t even bother to do a cursory check that what she posited was actually a new concept

I think it's been brought up but that is very funny, in a cosmic sort of way.

"trans men are men first!" gender essentialism is going to ruin us all like yes you're quite right if you're born a man no matter what your life experiences are, you are inherently more likely to be self-absorbed assholes who hate women. absolutely. the only thing terfs are wrong about it who counts as a man and who counts as a woman yep 100% i see no issues with this clearly our Man Brains make us evil

it's like yeah people who identify as men clearly have skull shapes that show an inclination towards misogyny

i rly appreciate seeing someone else who uses similar referential terms b/c i'm bigender and i honestly really like calling myself a male manwoman. it just feels right in a way nothing else does

I'm glad!

[sexynbgaming]

Reading your discussion about transandrophobia I can't help but feel that you might actually be granting too much to the other side. Whipping Girl did not establish a "theory" of transmisogyny, it merely coined a name for a specific kind of stigma. The "theory" of transmisogyny that has sprung up in its shadow does not actually have good explanatory power, and at times it borders on "radical feminism but for trans women this time." The concept of transandrophobia is not deficient for not having this shadow.

You have some great points here. I'll admit to not reading whipping girl so I can't comment on how scholarly/rigorous it was or not. Regardless of its rigor it has added key terminology with at least a general definition to part of the overall culture. This was great for shining a light onto the specific struggles of trans women and really has lead to more fully rigorous, scholarly articles being published. A couple examples I gathered quickly include: a generic look at transmisogyny and an application of transmisogyny to state legislature (not to claim these articles are perfects but simply more has been discussed because of the book).

I believe transmisogyny does have some good explanatory power, but as I said it's also young so still not too much. Most of it's power comes from applying feminism and misogyny frameworks to the specifics of trans women's struggles. Because feminism and misogyny are so fleshed out it's easy to build a fully complete thread such as "Trans women get more callout posts because of the fusion of 'queer man=predator' conservative thinking and how women are held to a higher moral standard then men". Transandrophobia theory is unfortunately at a distinct developmental disadvantage here because misandry (whether you believe it exists or not) is simply less studied.

I do want to be careful not to conflate transmisogyny theory with the people who use the term transmisogyny the most on tumblr. I have also seen many people use transmisogyny in their trans-women-inclusive radical feminism but this is no different from a usual terf using misogyny in their arguments.

I truly agree with your idea "the concept of transandrophobia is not deficient ..." not only in your original reasoning but also because both transandrophobia and transmisogyny are just far too new to judge. No criticism should be used to discount either of these theories as a whole because no one knows what either theory is fully yet.

[ftmtftm]

Hi I've seen you use the tag transfeminism a lot but I've never seen anyone else talk about it? Would you mind explaining it, or if not maybe pointing me in the direction of what to read to understand it? Thanks a lot in advance! <3

Yeah absolutely!

The most broad and basic premise of transfeminism is: it is feminist practice that works to incorporate the experiences of trans individuals into a feminist framework.

Depending on what theorists you engage with transfeminism is either a framework for the liberation of all trans individuals from the Patriarchy - or it solely focuses on the experiences of trans women and fems. I personally ascribe to the theories of the former, not the latter.

The best, and easiest, place to start with transfeminist theory in my opinion is with Emi Koyama's "Transfeminist Manifesto" - [ here ]. The first 10 pages are the Manifesto as originally written. The last 5 are a postscript to the manifesto and a bonus piece about racist feminism. I highly recommend reading the postscript, I find it fundamental to my own understanding of transfeminist praxis.

You can read more of Koyama's work on her website - [ here ] - and I highly recommend it! She's a profound trans and intersex advocate.

I also recommend trans theorists that pre-date Koyama such as Kate Bornstein, Leslie Feinberg, and Judith Butler. They're all nonbinary trans theorists across a multitude of identities and experiences. I love this interview with Feinberg and Bornstein a lot - [ here ].

Feinberg was prolific and the first author to truly advance the concept of transgender liberation - hir website [ here ] has a free PDF download of hir book Stone Butch Blues and several other resources on hir work and life.

Bornstein's books Gender Outlaw: On Men, Women, and the Rest of Us and Gender Outlaws: The Next Generation are go-to's of mine regarding a relatively modern history and understanding of trans identity. Her My Gender Workbook: How to Become a Real Man, a Real Woman, a Real You, or Something Else Entirely really helped shape my own relationship to my gender identity really positively and profoundly!

Judith Butler's most recent book Who's Afraid of Gender is also incredibly good, however it is incredibly dense in an academic sense. It personally takes me weeks to get through Butler's writing because it is so jammed with information - and that's not to their discredit, it's just the way they write. I highly recommend looking up some of their talks and interviews on YouTube as they're an easier introduction to their work.

Personally, I don't like Julia Serano as an author all that much, but she is still an influential transfeminist voice to be aware of because she coined and popularized the term transmisogyny. I personally have a lot of criticism of her work - particularly her seminal work Whipping Girl - because it explicitly, in her own words, is intended to be distinctly different from the work of Feinberg, Bornstein, and Riki Wilchins (another nonbinary intersex activist) and is more interested in societal perception and binary trans womanhood over politics and liberation. It also stands in opposition to a lot of the liberationist ideals of the Feminists she claims to be inspired by. I've read the whole book twice over now and in my opinion it reeks of White Feminism. I don't recommend it outside of reading it for context to the wider transfeminist discourse.

Transfeminism as a whole is also deeply entangled with the politics of Black and Intersectional Feminist politics, as many of those previously mentioned authors worked with, worked around, or were inspired by authors like Audre Lorde and bell hooks. As such I highly recommend both of them as authors as well!! I think their work really helps set the framework transfeminist theory is also built around.

I hope this helps!!

[mathsbian]

transmisogyny (originally trans-misogyny) was a term coined by transsexual woman julia serano in her book whipping girl to describe the unique oppression transsexual women experience as a combination of transphobia & misogyny. it has never been for or about trans men. this is just not true 👍 trans men have our own shit going on leave women alone

You're the one harassing me? You leave me alone!

Okay, yes, she coined the word, but for a long time trans guys were using it too with no issue. It wasn't until like a decade or so ago that anyone got mad about trans men needing their own term and then ALSO getting mad about every term they make! They literally have their own word now and are still getting told their problems aren't real or that they're somehow "stealing" or "copying" trans women for (((nefarious))) reasons. (Because gods forbid a Jewish man do anything for his own self interest.)

And none of this changes the fact that there are intersex afabs that got pushed through "male" puberty in middle and high school because they developed one too many male sex characteristics that want to "go back" to being women and that they should be allowed to use the label that makes the most sense to them as individuals, even if that label is "transfem" and it makes bigots like you mad.

AND AGAIN: IF YOU THINK I AM A TRANSMISOGYNIST WHY DO YOU CARE WHO I FOLLOW?

[hwa-stars]

Skirt lifter (Chapter 5)

Genre: High-school au, slow burning love, fluff, mention of mature language (+14)

Pairing: non!idol Park Seonghwa x fem!named reader

Summary: In which Park Seonghwa is accused of being a pervert.

Word count: 1.108k

Taglist: @dinossaurz @babigriin @hecateslittlewitchling (if anyone wants to be added to the taglist, please comment)

"So of all the things Hongjoong told me about you, I found out you're a scholar." Seonghwa leaned on the desk while watching me work. "That's surprising I must said."

"I'm most surprised that you'd talk about me."

"Well if a stranger punches your face, the most reasonable action is make some research about them" he helped me with some books. "And sue them." He laughed

"If that's the way you want to wasted your time, it's fine with me."

"Anyway, you told us to contact you if we knew about any job, right?"

"Yes" I said suspicious

"Well, I need a tutor" he sighed "In calculus."

"Really, for who?"

"Me."

"Why?"

"Why else do people hire tutors?" He asked obvious.

"I thought you meant for your sister, brother or anyone."

"I said that I need a tutor" he emphasized the I "So, what do you say?"

"I don't know Seonghwa " I muttered

"Why not? I badly one, considering that exams are next week" He fake cried "Please, please!" He begged me giving me puppy eyes.

"Why don't you ask Hongjoong?" I asked since I know he has good grades too.

"He's tutoring Yeosang and Wooyoung so he couldn't take me in" he explained "Please, I promise no skirt lifting."

"Fine" I give up and he smile "For two hours."

"What?"

"I'll tutoring you for two hours and if you still don't understand I'm done."

"Two hours is not enough!" He wined.

"Take ir or leave it."

I also think that two hours is not enough, but I don't want to be close to him or people to see us and started talking about me like those girls.

"Fine, what's your fee?" He grouned giving up.

"It's fine, you don't need to pay me." I shook my head stacking the last books on the shelf.

"But, it's supposed to be a job" he asked surprised.

"You can't put a price in education, as long as I help you understand, that's fine with me."

"Wow Minseo, you're such a kind soul" he stared at me and make my cheeks burned.

"Thank you so much, what will I ever do without you?" I facked his voice and he laughed.

He took the hood of my hoodie and placed it over my head, I looked up at him still blushing.

"Thank you" He whispered and quickly took the strings of the hoodie and tightened the hood over my face. "Pororo" He end with a smile and patted my head.

And he had to ruin the moment with his stupid nickname.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"You used the wrong formula"

"Yeah, for this problem not for that one." I pointed out the problem.

"But you told me to used it."

"Oh, sorry" he scratched his hair shyly.

"It's fine, you can started over"

After I finished my work at the library, Seonghwa and I agreed to take one hour of tutoring today and the other hour tomorrow. However, the hour had passed and we were getting nowhere because he kept mixing the formulas and I tried to explained him.

"I'm surprised you are not yelling at me" Seonghwa comments after he finished the problem.

"Why would I be?"

"I don't know I'd figure out you'll be yelling me or giving up trying to tutoring me." He continued his worksheet.

"Oh, I've handled dumbest kids before. You are not the worst that I had." I joked

"That's encouraging" He answers sarcastically.

"I'm kidding, I think I can't be in any position to get mad since everyone has different learning capacities."

Seonghwa continued working in his worksheet as I grabbed a book to study for my history exam.

"That's true."

"I'm gonna grab a drink form the vending machine, want anything?" Seonghwa asked.

"Oh yes, one chocolate bar please" I mentioned reaching for coins in my bag.

"It's my treat" He answered before taking his wallet and walking away.

Although I didn't want to be in debt with Seonghwa even if it's a chocolate bar, I whipped the table and look at my phone when suddenly a phone vibrate and it was Seonghwa's. I didn't want to invade his privacy, but the vibration of notifications were a lot.

There were a lot of 'where the fuck are you?😡' and 'everyone's here dude' messages, I saw Seonghwa walking back and he handed me my chocolate and I thank him.

"By the way, your phone was vibrating nonstop it seem urgent." I point his phone and he nodded.

He took his phone and read his messages, for the messages I expect him to leave soon so I started packing my things while he answered the messages.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"What are you doing?" He asked sitting down.

"No" he shook his head. "Quit with the chatting, we have work to do Pororo" He take his pencil again and started answering the worksheet.

It's weird, I'd have guessed that would leave at the moment because it seems like people were waiting for him.

"You want a picture of me?" He asked without looking up.

"What?"

"Well, you have been staring at me for a while." He poke my cheek with his pencil. "So take a picture of me, it will last longer." I blushed but look away. "Awww, you're blushed."

"No it's hot."

"Who? Me?" He smirked

"The weather dumbass."

"We're in an air-conditioned room Minseo."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I started to get boring so I started to draw an ice cream on my notebook, we've been here for two and a half hours. I'm surprised how distracted Seonghwa can be, he started asking me personal questions and making unnecessary comments riled up in him forgetting the task he had to do.

"You want to get ice cream?" Seonghwa asked looking at my draw.

"Yes, I want some."

"Then, let’s get some" he put his pencil back at the table.

"Forget it" I rolled my eyes.

"Why? You said you want ice cream."

"No, after you finished the problems you left." I point out the paper.

"Really?" He asked and his eyes sparkled, I haven't seen his eyes like that before but I nodded.

"Deal" he took his pencil and started working.

I almost hung out my mouth when 10 minutes later, Seonghwa had already finished the last problems.

"Well, let's go" He stretched out his arms.

I started checking his worksheet, looking for a minimal mistake but there wasn't any!

"How did you?" I asked confuse, a few minutes ago he was mixing the formulas and now he answered rigth.

"What can I say?" Ice cream is a great motivation." He smiled at me. "Let's get that ice cream, Pororo."

[ktsaysthings]

never an absolution

“Don’t come any closer,” she shouts, so he doesn’t. “Here, just—just give me your hand,” he tries. “I’ll pull you back over.” She glances at him again, the force of a hurricane behind her gaze. “I said stay back.” Titanic AU. jiara week day 5 - based on a book/movie/show

Read on ao3.

JJ doesn’t believe in luck. Never has.

He’s sure it’s a real thing that exists somewhere. Just not for him.

Instead, he makes his own.

Luck is the bottle of Jack left on the table to keep his dad’s hands from curling into fists. Luck is the stolen coins that keep him alive when he finally makes it to London. Luck is the ace of hearts hidden up his sleeve when he goes all in for a ticket on Titanic.

JJ doesn’t believe in fate any more than he believes in luck. He can’t, because fate would have him follow in his father’s footsteps—a deadbeat drunk with nothing to live for besides a good fight and his next drink.

Fate is the curse of his name, the scourge passed to him by his father and his father before that. Fate is what he picked up and ran from the moment his father’s body was in the ground.

He ran north from his little fishing town in North Carolina, working his way up the coast, surviving only by odd jobs and manual labor. Boston was fun, at first, until he ran out of money and every day was just backbreaking work and drugs and booze. Until he looked in the mirror and saw the empty eyes and split knuckles of his father.

Paris turned him into a thief, forcing his hand when he couldn’t seem to hold a job or find a place to sleep. Every penny felt like a piece of his past, the shame burning a hole in his pocket until he had just enough for a hot meal and a bed.

When thievery became too heavy, he ran to London, only picking pockets when he couldn’t sell the words in his own, handwritten poems and stories from his childhood, scribbled down under a bridge or on a park bench late at night.

On occasion, someone would actually read the little papers he shoved in their faces, and he’d be struck with confidence, like maybe he could escape his destiny, like maybe his words meant something, like maybe he meant something. But then he’d wake under the stiff sheets of a bed that wasn’t his, next to a woman he didn’t love, and he’d be reminded—JJ Maybank can never amount to anything.

No matter how far he runs, the dark, looming cloud of his future is always trailing behind him. As hard as he tries to be different, he is his father’s son. He lies and he cheats and he steals and he fights his way through life.

In his more optimistic moments, JJ thinks about his mother, who she could have been, or if she left any part of herself for him. He was barely a kid when she left, but he remembers she had kind eyes. Bright and blue, just like his.

His knuckles are still bruised from a barfight in London and the three-day-old split in his lip hasn’t quite faded, but when he looks in the tiny mirror of this third-class cabin, his mother’s eyes stare back at him, and that gives him hope.

The cabin is small, barely enough room to maneuver around the other three men he’s bunking with, so he lingers on the well deck late into the night, sprawled across a bench while he watches the stars peek through puffs of his vaporous breath.

It’s cold, so he fishes his last cigarette out of his pocket, igniting it with an expert flick of his lighter. He only takes one drag before a blur of red flies by in his periphery.

When he sits up, he sees it’s a girl, holding up the skirts of her red gown as she sprints across the deck. She stops short at the stern, leaning over the railing, staring at the water below.

He’s about to turn away—it’s not his business what first class women do on this ship—but she steps onto the railing, slow and shaky, climbing up and over until she’s hanging onto the other side. His feet are moving before he even realizes what’s happening.

“Um, excuse me, miss,” he says, hands held high in surrender, daring a step towards her.

She whips her head around at the sound of his voice. Her dark curls blow wild in the wind, some rogue wisps sticking to the tear tracks on her cheeks. Her grip on the railing turns her knuckles white.

“Don’t come any closer,” she shouts, so he doesn’t.

“Here, just—just give me your hand,” he tries. “I’ll pull you back over.”

She glances at him again, the force of a hurricane behind her gaze. “I said stay back.”

Read the rest on ao3!

[rotationalsymmetry]

The term misogynoir was coined because feminist spaces at the time (and lets be real, this is still a significant issue) were centering white women's experiences and not really talking about either ways that mainstream society harmed black women (except when it harmed white women in the exact same way), or ways that white feminists harmed black women. It was important because feminist spaces centered white women, and anti-racist spaces weren't talking about women's issues.

Likewise, the reason we have LESBIAN as a separate term in the acronym even though "gay" covers men and women, is that a whole lot of lesbians figured that gay rights/liberation groups were centering gay men's issues at the expense of lesbian issues, and that the word "lesbian" needed to be pulled out as a separate thing if lesbian issues were going to be taken seriously. Rather than issues lesbians care about only getting addressed when they also happened to be issues gay men care about.

If we have a term for transmisogyny (and I think there should be a term for transmisogyny, obviously) but not also for oppression trans mascs' experience, that implies that not only are cis women's issues prioritized over trans women's issues in feminist spaces unless transmisogyny is specifically deliberately paid attention to, and that cis feminists can and do harm trans women (inarguably true), but also that trans men's issues are by default prioritized over trans women's issues in trans rights/liberation spaces. And that uh...seems unlikely to me? I mean, I know for me personally, a lot of my exposure to trans issues is primarily or exclusively from the perspective of trans women. The first news article I read about trans issues talked exclusively about trans women. I picked up and read Whipping Girl before getting any book about transphobia in general or transphobia against trans men specifically.

I mean, I'm just thinking this through right now and sometimes when I do that, later I realize things I missed so that could be the case here too. But I do think there's something to be said for asking the question of whether trans men do actually get centered in trans spaces by default. Or in, like, the way trans people are represented in media (when the representation doesn't suck, no question that BAD rep is worse for trans women. Holy cow the bad rep of trans women is really, really atrocious.*) Or whether trans men are more likely to end up in significant positions of power than trans women. I...don't think that's the case? For any of them?

Setting aside the question of non-binary people, who imo obviously get more sidelined than either trans men or trans women.

*but "this group of people is more reviled than that group" does not mean that "that group" doesn't have intersectional issues. Black men are seen as more predatory and dangerous than black women, the term misogynoir is still relevant.

[rjalker]

Well if I saw a trans lady straight up hating on trans men and nonbinary people I would just block her.

But if I saw her posting "I hate it when trans men and nonbinary people make that mean joke about trans women!" and I couldn't find a single example of what she was criticizing?

Yeah, I would probably ask her some follow-up questions just like I did with you. I would want to know who posted the thing she was responding to, see how much (if any) traction it got, and judge for myself whether this controversy was legit or manufactured.

I would especially ask if the joke she referred to sounded really weird and was not in line with my understanding of what lateral aggression between trans people normally looks like on tumblr.

I'm not saying it's definitely fake. I'm just saying that "We're cooler than you because we get better jobs and make more money" is gonna get extra scrutiny from me because it doesn't fit the whole "We're the most oppressed and you're all evil men's rights activists" vibe that I've come to expect from the small communities of trans women who participate in lateral aggression on here.

Frankly it would fit more into a terf's idea of how trans women act. I cannot stress enough that this doesn't mean it's definitely fake. I would believe it was real if I actually saw the joke being passed around between trans women on tumblr, but I haven't. I haven't seen anything other than your posts! That's why I asked for more information.

Your response also raises another question. What do you mean by "traditionally misogynistic?"

you can look up a summary of Whipping Girl (you know, the book trans radfems keep beating everyone over the head with to say is proof that the only transmisia that exists is transmisogyny) if you want to know what traditional misogyny is, because that's the book that coins it as the conterpart to transmisogyny aka oppositional sexism / oppositional misogyny.

I won't tell you to actually read Whipping Girl because it is. Extremely fucking racist, transmedicalistic, and very obviously hateful of nonbinary people and trans men. Or I guess you can read it and see that for yourself if you care enough to. Most people don't because their only takeaway from it is that racist white trans women are the most oppressed people in the whole world because a racist white trans woman said so and only talked to other racist white trans women who already agreed with her.

I cannot stress enough how racist that book is.

[lesser-vissir]

I know I should have just blocked that person and moved on but I do love internet arguments.

I don't want to address it until I gave them a chance to actually talk, but I think that if you are, in your own words "AFAB and [...] indistinguishable from a dyadic cis woman", that you should probably question why you want to use the term transfem and identify as being in the same social class as trans women. Especially when you actively shut down discussions of transmisogyny.

He hates TME/TMA because "baeddels" coined the term despite the fact that a) they didn't and b) one of the few baeddels on record didn't like the term

Especially when he identifies as transfem, a term **actually** coined by baeddels.

Ironically he agrees with baeddels in his dislike of TME/TMA specifically because it "defines us by our oppression"

How can you claim transmascs don't oppress transfems while also believeing that Whipping Girl is an incredibly useful book and ideology.

[lawrites]

A Softer Side

Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size Female Reader

You are a Strong, and as such you have spent much time in the Red Keep with your Lord Father the Hand. After crossing paths with Aemond many times, you have forged an unlikely friendship at only ten-and-four.

This chapter is safe for all ages. There are some things that may be problematic such as a young betrothal (at 14), Targaryen incest sometimes mentioned, some self-deprecation and insults from other characters, (Especially "your" mom).

Other chapters will mention the terrible things that happen to the Strong family, Aemond's disfigurement, and once they are older may be suggestive or more. But for now they are kids and literally thinking of nothing but being happy with each other. This is more of a prologue to explain their relationship than anything, really.

I am not planning on following canon and allowing the dance to happen because this is a reader insert so like...why not be happy? Also book lore says Aemond was 10 when he lost his eye but I'm aging them up to 14 because betrothing people at 10 would be WILD. (14 is still wild but it's GOT so) Anyway, enjoy!

--------------------

You were luckier than your fellow noble girls in many ways...and yet unlucky in others. The Red Keep is your home, surrounding you with royalty of all kinds. Your mother told you before you left that it would be almost impossible not to make a good match, even at your age of ten-and-four and with your "plump" figure. No matter her words or her scoldings, it seemed like you just were inclined to be softer than others. It wasn't a crime, but for a noble girl in your time it may as well have been. You weren’t unlucky because of your softness, of course, your body is your body, but there are people that just don’t understand.

You walk just as much as the other girls, embroider, read, eat like them, and yet your body has decided that you must be bigger. In your own eyes, you suspect that it must be due to your "Stronger" genes. Yes, the daughter of someone who produced a hulking giant like Harwin and a smart, cunning whip of a man like Larys might also be unexpected in terms of body type. Lyonel was large, your mother was small, and it was only a coin toss to see which you would be.

Like your father, you seemed to retain weight in your middle. You are young, though, and according to your mother could "lose your baby weight at any day." You scoff and remind yourself that this may be the body you are in forever, which is fine by you. Either you find a lord that doesn't mind your weight or you don't, and you end up a maid. But those are the same options presented to every young girl in the kingdom, so you refuse to feel sorry for yourself.

Your father did see a lot of himself in you, though. Pitying and understanding glances thrown your way during your mother's lectures at dinner. If she ever revoked your food, your father would sneak up a plate to your room while Harwin kept watch. But with your father's position as Hand of the King, you were left alone with your mother more often than not. Eventually, you begged him to take you to the Red Keep with him, just as he did for Harwin and Larys. He could never seem to refuse you, and your mother agreed quickly as well.

Yes, you were lucky to be in the Red Keep and away from her now. It was your opinion that she wanted you out of her hair as much as you wanted out of her reach. And you did seem to come to your own when away from her. You stopped shrinking down at dinners or around others and began to straighten your back like a proper lady. The weight hasn't gone, just like you suspected, but that's alright with you. It at least keeps Aegon's interests away.

The elder son of Queen Alicent was cruel, and his face shows it each time he glances at you. He seems to hold almost a hatred towards any woman or girl that didn't fit within his type, and that decidedly includes you. Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys treat you like any other person, as their own mother has a figure like yours. But...Aemond...

Aemond was one of your best friends here. You were of similar ages and had initially met when you both waited outside the small council chamber for your fathers. Aemond would try to catch even a glimpse of Viserys as he stormed away from the meetings, while you would await your own father who would escort you either to the dining hall or your rooms depending on the time of day.

You began to speak quietly with Aemond outside the hall one day, surprised when he answered back. He is sweet, that much you can say, and soft-spoken. Many may call him reserved but you believe that to be fair after he has been ignored by his father and insulted by his brother and nephews. You began to invite him to eat with you and your own father after the meetings, wanting for him to not be as alone in the world.

He accepted the first time and would follow you with an unspoken look at each meeting from there on. He seemed to begin to open up to you and the Lord Hand, to a lesser extent. Your own father seemed to be impressed and proud of your ability to bring out a talkative and excitable side to the prince. You have always had a gift for relating to others and bringing out the best in them.

All you really had to do was observe and remember. You knew that Aemond likes to read, as you saw him under the Godswood with a book on many of your strolls, and you knew that he knows much of the history of the seven kingdoms. So, at the first dinner, you asked him about his favorite story. His eyes widened and, with a little prompting, he began to regale you of a tale of knights and princesses and nobility and dragons, of course. He said more words that night than your Lord Father had ever seen. And you listened intently, your hand on your chin and a small smile on your face. You found yourself happy when the prince was happy.

And he began to take more notice of you outside of your dinners as well...and you him, of course. He would glance up from his reading as he sat under the Godswood, waiting to catch a glimpse of you as you walked by. Eventually, he would even invite you to sit with him, asking if he could read to you. You accepted, and would sit next to him on his blanket, politely listening to his soft voice. Sometimes he would have you read to him, which gave him the ability to look openly at you as your eyes focused on the words.

It is a beautiful, peaceful moment such as that today. You are currently under the Godswood, allowing yourself to lay down by Aemond's side as he reads from a heavy tome. He seems to be taking pauses in between some paragraphs today, your eyes meeting as he glances down at you with a soft smile. You are, of course, unable to know his own thoughts, which center on how pretty you look with your hair shining in the sun, a soft, contented smile on your face. But near the end of the chapter, as he pauses once more, you glance up to see that he is not looking at you, but ahead.

You pull yourself up to rest on your elbows, shocked to see your own father and the King himself standing in the walkway, looking at the two of you. You and Aemond quickly get to your feet. He bows while mumbling out a "father" and you curtsy while welcoming his grace. Both of them have small smiles on their face, and Viserys almost seems...lighter...maybe even happier than you have seen him in a while.

They move on, leaving you and Aemond are a bit shaken. After sitting in silence for a moment, looking at each other with a slight awkwardness, Aemond slams the book closed as he moves to get up. "I-I am sorry, truly, but I must leave you now to practice." You nod with understanding, standing up and making a shoo-ing motion. "I understand, Prince, go on! Become Strong like me." You smile at him and show him your "Strong" arms by flexing. He laughs and his eyes light up with almost determination, "I-I will become S-Strong for you, you will see!"

He runs off, as you turn and roll your eyes at his enthusiasm, your heart feeling the warmth of content. You find yourself walking to your own practice with embroidery, humming to yourself as your shoes echo on the stones. Though it isn't as impressive as a sword, you were actually happy to be able to create something with your own hands and thread. It was frustrating at first, but like Aemond's sword fighting, you practiced.

You are proud of the progress you have made, and the other ladies like to gather and coo over your work. Currently, you have been embroidering a scene from Aemond's favorite story. The flags of the tournament were difficult to get as detailed as you wanted, but the knights are almost glinting in the sun thanks to your skill.

As you finish off a thread, you hear murmurs of "Lord Hand" and hear the clatter of rings being set down. You look up to see your father and quickly set down your work as well, rising to your feet. He smiles and grabs your shoulders. "My dear, I have a surprise for you at dinner tonight." Your face contorts in confusion as you are about to ask what, but your father shakes his head. "I cannot tell you until you join us, but I would like for you to go to your rooms and prepare yourself instead of meeting us outside the small council chambers. Put on your best dress, make sure your hair is presentable, possibly take a bath after laying in the dirt..."

He scrunches up his nose in an obvious jest and you both laugh. You nod your head, ever the dutiful daughter, and pick up your embroidery. Your own father prefers to lead you to your rooms, (with Harwin being close behind if he was available), as it gives him time to discuss your opinions of the Red Keep and your happiness as you walk. "Now, what have you been making here?" He asks as you leave the room.

You try to hide the embroidery but he snatches it from your hands. "Ah! I recognize this well. You have a talent, my dear. Or...at least I believe you do. I know not of embroidery myself." He smiles and you giggle. "But what made you so fixated on creating this scene in thread?"

You blush and look down as you continue to walk, fixating on your shoes. "Oh. Well...Prince Aemond's name-day will be here before we know it. I...I wished to have a gift for him, and so...I made him his favorite scene from his favorite story."

Your Lord Father nods as you continue to look down, his face showing almost triumph as his assumption was right. He remembers that first meal with Aemond just as well as you do. You look up to him, your hand reaching out for your work. He gently places it into your hand, and you look at it as you speak. "Will Aemond be alright if I do not meet him as usual after the small council meeting?"

Your Father smiles as he looks down at you, "Yes, I will meet him and escort him to our dining room." He places his hand on your shoulder. "Do not worry, my child, he will understand your delayed arrival soon." You nod and look up at your door as you reach your chambers. The doors swing open under your hands, and you allow yourself one glance back for reassurance at your father before you close them behind you.

You find your father had arranged for a few handmaidens and a hot bath to be ready for you, and you gladly sink into the fragrant water as your hair is quickly unbraided and gently washed. Once you are clean, you dry off and then step into your best chemise and dress. As your handmaidens braid your drying hair neatly once more, you run your hands nervously over your front, feeling your soft middle.

The handmaidens help you with the finishing touches to your look, catching flyaway hairs and wrangling them into place. They also give you just a hint of perfume your mother had sent with you, the smell reminding you of home. Once they are finished, the sun is falling behind the ocean, and you must head to dinner.

You find your own brothers standing outside your room once you exit, both Harwin and Larys looking towards you. Harwin smiles with his entire face and seems to want to give you one of his all-encompassing bear hugs, but Larys gently places a hand on his chest. "Not yet, brother. She must be presentable for the dinner." You smile gratefully at Larys, knowing that he thinks more deeply about things sometimes than Harwin.

He gives you a very cryptic glance back. It is almost a smile, but guarded. Though you spend more time with Harwin, you always enjoy time with Larys. His advice was what kept you sane in the Red Keep when whispers about your body followed you in your first few weeks. Though his struggle is much different than yours, you both are able to commiserate and get advice from the other. You worry that, as a girl of ten-and-four, you cannot even begin to give Larys any useful advice...but he sometimes seems to be comforted just by your understanding and listening ear.

He continues to give you the cryptic look as he softly speaks, "Good luck, little sister." And you hear his cane clack against the stone as he moves in the opposite direction. Harwin shakes his head a bit and grabs your shoulder in comfort, telling you that you look beautiful as you walk down the stairs and towards the hall.

"Harwin?" He glances down at you. "Why is this dinner different? Did I do something wrong?" Harwin moves to your front and kneels in front of you as he grabs your shoulders, stopping you from entering the dining room just yet. "You have done nothing of the sort." His eyes are open and loving. "You are a wonderful daughter for our father and a kind sister. Anyone would be happy to be counted amongst your acquaintances. Remember that." You nod, confusingly, as Harwin nods back and stands up. You did not notice upon first glance, but Kingsguard are stationed at the door.

They open the doors for you, and Harwin places his hand on your back to lead you into the room. Your face of confusion turns to shock as you see King Viserys where you do not expect him for the second time today. Queen Alicent is by his side at the head of the table, and a quick glance to Aemond shows his look of shock as well. (Though you do not know that he is more shocked at your beauty than his own father) You quickly curtsy as you are announced, looking to the King and Queen and doing your best to give them your Graces.

The King smiles and points to a spot next to Aemond. "Please, join us young one." You glance to your father and he nods. Usually you sit across from Aemond, but tonight would be different, it seems. You walk to your seat and are surprised to see Aemond stand up and pull it out for you. You blush, thank him, and sit down, letting him push your chair back in.

The King gives a slight toast to "new friends and the Strong bond between family" and begins to dig in. You glance to your father who has also begun to eat, taking it as your own cue to do so as well. You find a singular piece of potato that interests you, spearing it with your fork. The voice of your mother spears through you in much the same way, "Must you be so happy to eat, child? At least appear as if food holds nothing to you even if it is clear to everyone that it does."

You slowly bring it up, trying not to appear too hungry, and eat, glancing over at Aemond to see that he is also unable to eat with his usual fervor. At least you weren't alone in your lost appetite. Your father clears his throat and you look to him. "So, my dear daughter, would you like to discuss your day as usual with Aemond?" As straightforward as ever, your father. You nod but glance in what you think is an imperceptible way towards the King.

He chuckles as your eyes meet. "Oh, she is a bit frightened of me, it seems, Lyonel." You blush a bit, feeling ashamed that the King can tell. "Just pretend I am not here, child." You find yourself speaking without even thinking, "Pardon, your Grace, but that is easier said than done." You shock yourself and look down to your plate in shame, before you hear the King let out a loud, surprised laugh.

"Very well said and observed." You look up once more to see that his face is full of mischief. "Then instead, pretend that I am an old man who cares not of the manners of court for the time being." You stay quiet, causing the Queen to interject. "My dear, we are your friends here. You may discuss whatever you want freely with Aemond."

She gives you a gentle smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes as you turn from her to Aemond. He is blushing heavily at this point, and you try to very slowly and gently grab his hand in support. He looks to you and you begin to speak in a soft voice. "H-how was training today, Prince Aemond?"

He looks to you and then to his father...then down to his plate. "O-oh. Well...I was k-knocked down by Aegon once more. Many times, in fact." You feel his shame, and the urge to comfort him makes you truly forget about the King. "Aemond, that is alright. You are younger." You smile and continue, "And besides, the best knights learn from their mistakes and losses and use them to become Strong."

He turns to you in thankfulness, "S-Strong like you?" You nod, "Exactly, Strong like me!" And you pick up your arm, showing him your "muscles." He giggles and you smile and then you remember where you are. You slowly look to the King and your Father, lowering your arm and blushing at forgetting your manners and behavior. The King begins to eat again, saying through a mouthful of food, "Well, go on."

You feel so ashamed that now you are the one who cannot speak, and Aemond instead is the one who talks. "My Lady Strong, what have you done today?" He squeezes your hand and seems to be looking only at you. You inhale and respond. "Well, you know I embroider as all Ladies in court do, but that must bore a Prince such as yourself."

Aemond shakes his head. "Nothing that you do bores me, My Lady." He has slightly reddened cheeks as he continues, "You are interesting in everything that you do...to m-me that is." He smiles at you, truly this time, and you smile back.

"Well, that is good to know, My Prince." You have completely forgotten about the royalty in the room once more, basking in just talking with your dearest friend. "I will bring a nice, dusty old tome from the Maester's Library to read tomorrow at the Godswood. It should thrill you to hear about all of the proceedings of court from times of peace."

You muster up your best proper voice and continue, "Yes, and on the 12th day of millions of years ago, a King decided to have tea with his friends. They spoke at length with each other and then retired to their rooms." You collapse a bit into your normal posture and use your normal voice once more. "Quite riveting, if I am not mistaken."

Aemond truly laughs, his own thoughts away from his father watching over him. Then he looks at you with open enthusiasm. "If I am to hear about it from you, then I do not mind." He squeezes your hand once more, "You have a way of making history interesting to me."

A jarring sound of utensils being set down brings you both from your conversation, and you suddenly, again, remember that the King has been watching you with his son the whole time. You look to him apprehensively, expecting to get a lecture about respect towards history or the Prince. But instead you see his face still holds his previous smile.

"Well, it seems my Lord Hand is right once more, wouldn't you agree, my dear?" He looks to the Queen, who slowly nods. "It does appear that, though we thought him to be biased..." She glances with almost coldness at your father, "...he once again does his best to give you an accurate reading of circumstances." She looks to her son at the end of her sentence, and notices your joined hands. She seems to soften a bit, almost unable to keep up any pretense.

She looks to the King. "I say that the Strong's have been excellent allies to the court and..." She pauses, "...Lord Strong has been a decent Hand of the King these years." She gathers herself. "I await your decision, Lord Husband."

You stop for a moment...decision? But The King stands, with a bit of difficulty, and the rest of the table follows suit. He grins at his son and begins, "I believe that the best way to reward years of service and ensure continued loyalty would be the joining of House Strong and House Targaryen." He brings up his goblet in a motion for a toast, and you all follow suit. "I, Viserys Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, do hereby join my own House and House Strong by betrothing mine own son Aemond Targaryen to Lady Y/N of the House Strong." Your eyes open wide in shock, unable to even move as he continues his speech, "...you will be wed once you turn ten-and-eight, and from then on you will be bound. We all hope your union to be one of joy and prosperity." He brings up his goblet to drink and everyone follows, with the exception of you and Aemond.

You glance over and him and notice that he has already been looking to you, a blush on his face. He gives you a small smile and motions to your cup. You hurriedly bring it to your lips to mirror the King's movements, and he does the same. Once the toast is finished you all sit down, the King leading in his own stead. He looks to you both and speaks, "It does seem that the two of you already have a bond of friendship."

You feel your face heating up but continue to look to the King. "You know, the best marriages are built based on not only duty, but friendship and love." The King seems to deflate then, lost in his own thoughts. The Queen worriedly holds his arm and you take hold of Aemond's hand in comfort once more.

"I-I seem to be ready to retire for the night," The King almost whispers. There have been rumors around the court of his failing health. He seems to lose himself and his energy even after the smallest of exertions. The Queen nods to the guards and they all summon around the King, ready to escort him. Viserys looks to you both once more before he leaves the room, and his eyes seem to hold such sadness as he softly speaks, "My son, treat her well."

And with that, the doors shut, leaving you, your Father, and Aemond alone once more. Your father clears his throat and calls for your brother to enter the room. Surprisingly, both Larys and Harwin enter, and they join you as you all take a seat once more. Food is brought for them, and they begin to eat, Harwin glancing between both Aemond and your own untouched plate.

Aemond seems to shrink a bit under his critical gaze, but he also looks to see that you haven't eaten much. He squeezes your hand and looks at you with imploring eyes. "My Lady, won't you eat? You cannot stay Strong without it, you know." He tries to grin but his own worry is palpable through his attempt at humor.

You shake your head in disbelief, "I-I cannot find myself able to even think of hunger at the moment after...after..." You look to him. "...So...we are to be betrothed then? Just like that?"

Aemond seems to shrink even more, releasing your hand. "I am sorry if I was not the person you had wanted." He almost whispers now. "I know that I do not even have a dragon. I cannot be the best for you."

Your eyes widen, understanding how Aemond could misunderstand your question. The pause in the sounds of cutlery against plates makes you look to your family, who had indeed stopped eating to listen in. You glare at all of them, especially at Harwin, who brings up his hands in surrender and continues to eat. The sounds give you a bit of cover.

You grab his hand gently, trying to hold it tight so he can't escape again. "My prince," you say lowly, "There is no one I would rather be with than you. I-" you pause, breathing in shakily. "...I was only worried that you would not be happy with me. I am not a great beauty nor from a Valerian House." You feel what Aemond had felt, now, wanting to draw your own hand away. "I cannot offer you what others could."

Aemond grips your hand tightly now and shakes his head. "No! No! I...I cannot think of another who has been here for me like you. Or another who I have wanted to share my time with such as you. You are my..." He pauses, "...my greatest friend. It is an honor to be betrothed."

You sigh, realizing that maybe friendship IS the best you could hope for from a Targaryen Prince in your marriage. You nod. "I agree wholeheartedly." He looks to your plate once more. "Then please eat for me, my betrothed. You deserve to be happy and taken care of. I-I will take care of you." Squeezing his hand, you take your utensils as directed. Your brother makes a disgusted sound and you look to Harwin, who rolls his eyes and pretends to gag.

You stick out your tongue at your much older brother's childish antics, and you decide that you will eat your food if for no other reason than to spite him and his disgust at your friendship with the Prince. Once finished, you stand up and announce that you will retire to your rooms. Harwin stands as well to escort you, but Aemond grabs your hand.

"Y-you wouldn't mind if I walked you there as well?" You shake your head and look to your father for approval. His face is full of such warmth and pride that it almost makes you want to run to your rooms to escape it, not used to being the center of such happy emotions. He nods, "Of course, Prince Aemond. Harwin will escort you both to my daughters chambers, where you can say goodnight."

You gently take Aemond's outstretched hand with a blush. He at least was doing his best to appear to be the perfect betrothed, and you would do the same. Though you know that it will not be difficult to try on your part. You walk in silence, mainly, Harwin occasionally chuckling lowly, causing you to glare at him. Once you reach your chambers, Aemond brings you in front of him, holding both of your hands.

He looks nervously at Harwin, and you glare up at him once more, signalling him to turn with your head. He rolls his eyes and turns his back on the two of you, crossing his arms. Aemond smiles softly at you, his eyes shining. "Would you close your eyes for me, my Lady Strong." You do, giving him a small smile in return. You feel his breath on your cheek for only a moment before his lips replace it, you eyes opening in shock as you see the Prince give you a chaste kiss on the cheek.

He pulls back and his cheeks are bright red, you bring one of your hands from his to feel your face, which is warm as well. You almost feel as if your body is made of some sort of ice that can melt into the floor when his free hand caresses your face where he kissed it. "G-goodnight, my Lady Strong."

You softly respond, "Goodnight, my Strong Prince."

He blushes, looks down, and releases your hands, allowing you to enter your room. You glance back at him once more to see him watching you intently, you wave, and close the doors behind you.

Filled with childish glee that one almost never gets to experience in a world such as the one you inhabit, you rush to your bed and grab one of the soft pillows, using it to mask your squeal of happiness. Aemond would be your Husband. Aemond would be your HUSBAND! Even if he would never love you as you him, it would be so much easier to move through life with him by your side. Your handmaiden looks on in happiness, herself, before tapping you on the shoulder.

As you babble to her about the day, acting like the child you are for the first time around her, you get ready for bed. You are so excited from thoughts of your future rushing through your head that you cannot even think to get to sleep. It is, of course, not your fault that you couldn't see the future. Perhaps if you could, you might have worked to stop what was already in motion. Though realizing it was out of your control, you might have felt dejected.

At least, you might have forced yourself to calm down and sleep, as it would become very difficult for you to do so in the very near future, as a deep, dark dread is approaching on the horizon. For your family, especially.

[intersex-ramona-flowers]

thank you. i kept saying this to people and they just argued with me that it wasn't, but a lot of goyim cannot wrap their heads around the deeply antisemitic roots of conspiracy theory & it's slang.

very long, dissection of these thoughts - i'm sorry if it seems irrelevant but it feels incredibly relevant given this vein of discussion.

honestly, this whole entire situation is just shitty, strange, and pointless to me. perhaps we be the arbiter of our own experiences and not other people's?

if a community comes up with language to describe itself, it's not a threat. i, as an intersex person, have not once seen people turn transandrophobia (or transmisandy, antitransmasculinity) into a binary. that's my only issue. the second you decide who is or isn't impacted, you've created a new binary. one in which i will never fit, because you cannot box my life into 0 or 1. otherwise, coming up with new terminology to further these discussions is highly valuable. this is important for the development of theory in general. for example, misogynoir doesn't mean non-black women don't face misogyny, but is rather a term to discuss the intersectionality between misogyny and anti-black racism. antitransmasculinity, transmisandry or transandrophobia is not to say that transphobia is exclusive, but rather that there is an intersection between punitive behavior towards "the wrong kind of masculinity" and transhood.

but it very rapidly became "you need to shut up, you're always telling US to shut up, so we're turning the tables on you!" and to be honest, where this all started was intersex people telling people to stop directly quoting excerpts from a fucking intersexist. we have no problem with transmisogyny as a word that embodies the intersection of misogyny and transphobia - but the woman who coined the term treated it as a binary from which intersex people were fetishized and exempt from. us telling people not to create gender binary 2.0 wasn't us telling anyone to "shut up" or not talk about it at all, but rather leave space for other voices.

so when/how/why did discussing your experience with the intersection of misogyny and transness become telling other people whether or not they were exempt from these experiences? well, that is how Julia Serano, who coined the term, treats this word. her belief is that the world desires more men, thus (perisex) trans masculine people get access to HRT and SRS easily. she believes that men are always rewarded for their masculinity, and very overtly states that trans women have it harder. she expresses that it is in fact not transphobic for "womyn spaces" to welcome trans men, but are transmisogynistic not to allow in trans women. (as if this isn't misgendering both in this instance.) she's incredibly dismissive, transphobic and colonialist towards nonbinary/2S/indian, indigenous and jewish genders, cherry picking to prove her point about victimization and erasing any "transmasculine" oriented identities (to oversimplify for sake of character count.) she glosses over intersex people, mentioning us, mentioning Dr. Money but not what he did TO US, and coming to conclusions that we've been vocally disagreeing with since 2007. she cherry picked stats to prove her point, which actually winds up harming it. all from whipping girl, the book that coined transmisogyny, a piece of literature that's treated like the trans bible, despite it's reductionism and transphobia.

and i'm not saying transmisogyny as a word shouldn't be used, i'm saying you are actively dragging our community down with your attempt to classify and codify a binary for which this framework is used. AGAIN, the entire reason people started throwing tantrums about "you all tell us to shut up and stop talking about our experiences" was because intersex people said "hey! you can use that word, it's a great descriptor to use in discussion about oppression through the lens of intersectionality! but it's deeply intersexist to turn it into a new binary. it's not cut and dry the way you want it to be, and you also can't just tell someone else what they have or have not experienced." something that we have been saying to the woman who coined it since she fucking coined it. because a shitload of intersex people don't fit the mental categorization of what TMA is and are still transmisogyny affected. shit, even cis black women have discussed how they're impacted by transmisogyny. because oppression isn't Man Bad Woman Good Woman Oppressed Man Oppressor. intersectionality makes oppression a very complicated multi-faceted system of abuse. (you'd think she'd get that from her book discussing the intersection of misogyny and transness.) but we intersex people are used as a battering ram for arguments or left out entirely, so the focus shifted onto targeting transmascs alone - the "opposite" of transfemmes, the enemy. we got lost in our justified criticism and it became criticism "for no reason."

it's such a baby's first understanding of gender praxis, to throw this initialization back at people who think this way. this a very rudimentary understanding that masculinity is rewarded, therefore anyone emulating masculinity is rewarded, and it is deeply lacking in intersectionality. the black man is not rewarded for his masculinity, nor is the indigenous man, nor is the gay, trans, intersex, jewish or asian man, so on and so forth. when you are seen as a deviation from the cisperi heterosexual white norm, you are punished for your attempts to (even successfully) emulate normalcy. in fact, this feels like such a base starting point for the framework of intersectionality that i regularly think these individuals are anti-black. if it doesn't affect them, they don't care to learn about it, or to listen to black transfems in their community, or to pay attention when a black person is speaking. have you never listened to malcom x or martin king speak of their blackness in relation to their masculinity? how they are punished for it, seen as aggressors, seen as threats? where is the reward there in that masculinity? what about black women, who are seen as masculine, aggressive, loud and dominating - all racist stereotypes? are you somehow completely unaware of the way masculinity is punished or assigned to dehumanize through racist trains of thought? because i'm assuming you just don't listen to black voices.

i think some of these people either are self proclaimed f3mc3ls who still use 4chn (a new worrying trend i've seen women and girls take to) which encourages this Us Vs Them thinking. or literal sockpuppets from 4chn doing astroturfing as Discourse Of The Month, as they have been doing for more than a decade. like, maybe i'm just old, but i remember the thousand iterations of this that came before this. aces, aros, lesbians, pansexuals, bisexuals, lesbians again, trans people, trans people again, over and over we recycle garbage and repaint it for a new round of discourse that at its best serves no purpose, and at its worst is alt-right psyop shit.

and i mean that literally. the CIA wrote a fucking handbook on how to disrupt leftist organizers. this shit is straight out of an alt-right gov. sanctioned playbook on disrupting leftist progression. Spread disturbing rumors that sound like inside dope. Haggle over precise wordings of communications. If possible, join or help organize a group [...] See that the procedures adopted are as inconvenient as possible [...] bringing up problems which are largely imaginary, and so on. [...] Act stupid. Be as irritable and as quarrelsome as possible, without getting yourself into trouble. 'this is whataboutism'. you guys remember whataboutism? shifting goalposts?

How about this manual on unconventional warfare? (psychological warfare on organizations you want to dismantle and disrupt)

Basically, psychological operations is concerned with persuading people, or groups of people, to take certain actions favorable to one’s interests. In an insurgent situation, psychological operations can be called upon to persuade the people of the area to actively and willingly co-operate with the local government, disrupt the efforts of the insurgent, and assist in separating the insurgent from other elements of the nation’s population.

how can we dissuade groups from acting against our interests?

The fundamental key to a successful persuasion effort is the extent to which the persuader genuinely understands the group being addressed.* Because successful persuasion depends on a thorough knowledge of environmental factors which influence the target, as well as a knowledge of what this target group thinks of itself and its environment,* it is difficult to specify detailed suggestions because of the diverse areas in which Special Forces may operate. There are general guidelines, however, which will aid Special Forces personnel in a persuasive effort.

if a group sees themselves as tolerant and inclusive, or as the sole victims under the oppressive system of abuse and power, how do we target them in a way that they understand?

There are a number of approaches to the problem of persuasion. The best one involves changing, if necessary, the predisposition of a target group to react in a particular way to things they sense in their environment—in other words, their attitudes. Having discovered the existing attitudes of the group an examination is made to define characteristics of the attitudes so that changes or modifications can be made.

if you can convince a group that their allies are victimizing them or that their allies are denying your victim hood, you can shift their focus from fighting you to fighting each other. if you can shift them into infighting, they stop organizing against you.

also, i think everyone should read this PDF so that they understand these psychological pitfalls and thus can avoid them.

it mentions many things i can't get into here because of post character limits - normalization of rhetoric and re-appropriating rhetoric, for another thing. like for example, 4chnneonazi shit becoming normal meme culture? "i believe in x supremacy" meme is a white supremacy meme. 4chn regularly pulls tactics from this manual to normalize their ways of thinking. radicalqueer meant someone who took action to change norms and laws - i worked as a member of a group called the radqueers. we organized for housing and feeding the homeless, as the homeless are disproportionately queer youth fleeing abusive environments. you know how people now contribute radqueer to pro-pedophilia? that's 4chn shit. adopt a term with meaning and shit on it so people can't organize with it.

i'm a fucking herm. i was called a baeddel as a kid, by an archaic ass schoolteacher who still thought we should beat the left handed. fucking "shemale" was an intersexist slur levied at me throughout my life - and it is also levied at trans women and is also transmisogynistic! but it would not be conductive to reality for me to claim that trans women aren't called this word because it's intersexist and they're not intersex so they don't experience intersexism. this shifting rhetorical focus shit of narrowing down terms until they're basically useless (or vice versa, broadening language until it loses meaning) is actively setting back our progress.

the sex binary is bullshit, this new "trans approved!" sex binary is bullshit, and leaving our siblings behind through these divisions is antithetical to queer radicalism (and not the co-opted 4chn definition of queer radicalist) you're actively shitting up the conversation. we should be talking about our experiences, not about who is or is not experiencing something we have experienced - just as we would expect them not to tell us what we have or have not experienced.

and someone calling you a sockpuppet or an astrotufer isn't bigotry. you're peddling alt-right division tactics. you come across as disingenuous because that's the whole point of these psychological tactics, to be disingenuous and bog down progress. and if you aren't someone infiltrating in order to shit up the conversation, you're a useful idiot who fell for this disruption bullshit.

i am an intersex, intergendered and jewish "othergendered" (as i call myself) trans person, and i stand with my transmasculine brothers and siblings, with my transfeminine sisters and siblings, with those who reject or abstract new genders of various kinds, and with my fellow intersex individuals who seek to dismantle the binary. i don't believe in cannibalizing each other to try to establish praxis. that's an active detriment to that work.

STOP INFANTILIZING TRANS MEN AND TRANSMASCS. ITS DISGUSTING AND EXTREMELY TRANSPHOBIC.

[gender-jargon]

Cisgender Transex: Describing individuals whose gender identity is congruent to their assigned gender at birth (AGAB), but have a sex identity that differs from their unmodified, natal sex.

 Describing the intersection of cis- gender modality and trans- sex modality.

Etymology

A combination of the terms “Cisgender” and “Transex”, describing gender modality and sex modality, respectively.

The first recorded use of the term cisgender was from a 1994 post to alt.transgendered on Usenet by Dana Leland Defosse. All through the 1990s, the term was used  to describe individuals who are, “on this side of the behavioral, cultural or psychological traits typically associated with one sex”, meaning “that one’s identity and presentation match their physical morphology”.

The original concept of cisgenderness differs from how it is used presently, as the original definition of the term does not account for gender assignment, meaning that it isn’t a gender modality. At this point, the term cisgender was more akin to the term “gender conformant”. The term was ultimately popularized by biologist Julia Serano in 2004 in her book Whipping Girl.

In some time between late 2018 and early 2019, jurist and bioethicist Florance Ashley proposed the concept of gender modalities. This was essentially created to emphasize that gender identity itself is different than gender identity in relation to one’s assigned gender. For instance, an transgender woman and a cisgender woman have the same gender identity, both being women, but they have different gender modalities because the transgender woman has a different gender than the one she was assigned and the cisgender woman identifies with her assignment. This change in terminology was suggested, as it attempt to reduce “othering”, enhance vocabulary, resolve semantic contraversies and allows for non-binary gender modalities (cisn’transn’t). 

Transex is defined as having a sex identity that transcends one’s “biological sex“ or unaltered “natal sex”; denoting or relating to a person whose sense of sex identity or biossex does not correspond with their birth sex. This term was coined by moderator Arco Pluris of Beyond-MOGAI-Pride-Flags in 2020. The term transex is similar to transsexual, but serves as a umbrella term for all trans- related sex identities (corporeal, immaterial, desired, etc.). A sex identity is describes one’s personal sense of their sex via their sex traits and their self-interpretation of how their corporeal sex is or should be.

Some examples of Cisgender Transex identities:

An AFAB, cisgender butch lesbian who is transmasculine, desiring top surgery and HRT.

An AMAB, GNC, cisgender male drag queen who is transfeminine, desiring breasts and a wider hips.

A cisgender, xeno-aligned individual of an unknown assignment who is faunagenital, making them transxenine. 

A cisgender-aligned, transn’t non-binary individual who desires genital nullification and removal of the nipples, being transneutral. 

...etc.

(Sources: X X X X X X X X X)

Flag

The flag’s design is a combination of the transex flag and what I imagine a cisgender pride flag would look like if it was necessary and in good-taste to create one. The flag consists of nine main stripes, having half the flag being flipped vertically. From top to bottom, the stripes are black, dark grey, a half and half dark pink or dark blue stripe, a half and half light pink or light blue stripe, a large white center stripe with a triangular point, a half and half light pink or light blue stripe, a half and half dark pink and dark blue stripe, dark grey and black. The flag carries the following meanings:

The topmost and bottom-most black and grey stripes are represent gender conformancy.

The dark pink/dark blue stripe represents identifying with one’s gender assignment. 

The light pink/light blue stripe represents transcending one’s natal sex.

The white stripe with triangular point represents being varsex. 

Flag by Gent (Gender-Jargon), 2022.

EDIT: While researching another term, I discovered I made a mistake regarding the etymology of “cisgender”. The post has since been updated to correct this error.

EDIT 2: I had a dummy moment and accidentally classified this term as purely Aldernic. While this situation can often result in what would be classified as an Aldernic/Altersex identity, that is not necessarily the case. The post has once again been updated to correct this error.

[messers-moony]

Starstruck | S.B

Paring: Young!Sirius Black X Shy!Fem!Barista!Reader

Summary: Sirius is completely enamored by the girl who makes his coffee.

Word Count: 1.6K

AU: Coffee Shop & NonMagical

Sirius was whining. That was nothing new.

What was new, however, was the black-rimmed plastic around his eyes with glass in the center. Over the years of going to school with his best friends James, Remus, and Peter, they had always made fun of James for having glasses. They repeatedly called him ‘Four eyes’ because he was as blind as a bat.

So when Sirius Black showed up in all his glory - leather jacket, band tee, skinny black jeans, and doc martens, to the coffee shop where his favorite barista worked with his glasses. It’s safe to say he was ashamed. He hadn’t figured out contacts yet, and to do his schoolwork for university, he needed to be able to see.

Two girls owned the coffee shop. One had waist-length blonde hair and brown eyes the shade of caramel. She had a tint of a Scottish accent which flowed beautifully with her English. She seemed to be the more outgoing of the two. Her name tag read ‘Marlene/Marls’ with a bunch of doodles around it. The second girl made Sirius stop in his tracks when he first walked inside the quaint little shop.

She had h/c hair that was typically put behind her ears due to making coffee all day. Her eyes were e/c, but Sirius could never really pinpoint what color they were because she never made eye contact with anyone. Her name tag said ‘Y/n/Nova’ with constellations doodled around it. Sirius couldn’t tell where the nickname Nova came from. It didn’t relate to her actual name at all.

Y/n never really spoke, but she made excellent coffee. Marlene took orders and rang people up at the register while Y/n did almost everything else. It was a weird combination of two friends, but Sirius had seen stranger. After all, James and Regulus got along better than he ever thought was possible. Y/n also had a habit of doodling in a sketchbook while waiting for the espresso to drip into the cup. Sometimes she sat on a stool with a cracked paperback in hand.

Nonetheless, Sirius walked up to the counter where he met Marlene for the fifth time this week, “Mornin’, Sirius. The usual?”

“Yes, please,” Sirius replied, handing over two pounds, but Marlene handed it back to him.

She gave him a knowing smile, “Someone’s already paid for your coffee, dear.”

“Oh,” Sirius shoved the coins back into his pocket while he went to the other side of the counter.

He stood patiently waiting for his usual order. Sirius found himself staring at the girl who dedicated herself to not speaking to anyone in the shop. She looked so focused when she steeped milk or whipped the cream on top of the hot beverage. Sometimes her teeth would take her bottom lip, or her tongue would poke out of the side of her mouth. Sirius longed to know what her voice sounded like.

Sirius almost forgot about his glasses until he saw the cup being placed on the counter with his name on it. By the side of his name was the constellation Canis Major, along with a napkin that had black ink on it. He took the cup and the napkin back to his seat, where his computer laid along with his notebooks. Carefully, he took a sip of the beverage but almost spat it out when he read what was on the napkin.

“I like the new glasses!”

Beside that was a doodle of the familiar square rimmed glasses that he forgot was on his face. Suddenly he felt embarrassed to let the girl of his dreams see him. Trying to shove down his embarrassment, he took a book and placed it upright so he could no longer be seen from her line of sight. Sirius could’ve sworn he had her giggle at his action, which turned him into complete mush.

A couple of days later, when Sirius returned to the coffee shop, only Y/n was there, Marlene nowhere to be seen. He approached the counter, and finally, he could make out the beautiful color of her e/c eyes. Y/n gave him a shy smile as she peered up at his grey ones. This was the closest they had ever been before.

“The usual?” Her voice sounded smooth and calm, exactly how he pictured.

Sirius pondered, “Actually, I’d like you to surprise me.”

“Surprise you?” Y/n questioned, and Sirius nodded, “Um, okay, any special requests?”

“Your number, maybe?”

Sirius watched her tense at the question and immediately wished he could take it back. He watched as she pressed a couple of buttons on the iPad, “It’ll be three pounds.”

Without another word, Sirius handed her the coins and walked away, mentally scolded himself for doing that. He should’ve known better than to ask for her number. What if she had a boyfriend? What if she wasn’t even into guys? Sirius felt like he was going to down a bottle of vodka when he went back to his flat with Remus.

The cup of coffee was placed on the counter with his name and his constellation once again. Sirius didn’t think twice before grabbing the coffee cup and leaving the shop, undeniably mortified. Sirius went to the public library to do his studying there instead. It took hours, but when he finally finished his coffee - which had turned cold - he noticed something on the inside of the cup.

Carefully, trying not to spill, he opened the lid of the cup to see numbers written on the inside. He couldn’t remember a time where a brighter smile had taken over his features. Hastily, Sirius grabbed his phone and typed them into his messenger app. After much thought, he shot her a text.

A month later, Sirius had managed to get a date with her. They spoke more at the coffee shop while Y/n made his coffee every morning, even when Marlene was there. Sirius had asked her to meet up at one of his favorite bookstores down the street from their café. Y/n had shown up on time, and she looked gorgeous. Sirius had to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

Y/n placed down her keys and cup of coffee on the table in front of him. Sirius shot her a smile which he got in return. He watched as she pulled out a cracked paperback and a hardcover journal while Sirius had his laptop out in front of him. It was a study date, but a date nonetheless.

“You look stunning.”

She smiled, shaking her head, “Thanks. I just got off work.”

“Well, I’ve never seen you in anything but an apron,” Sirius replied, “Usually, it’s stained in coffee.”

“I’m a bit of a klutz.” Y/n blushed as she opened the journal.

Sirius stared at the pages in shock. They were covered in star patterns. The background had been watercolored black with some navy blue. The star patterns themself had been drawn in what appeared to be a white gel pen. On the other side of the page was her neat handwriting, which had facts about every constellation.

“Astrology major?” Sirius questioned.

“Yeah, I- I know a lot about the stars. It’s why my nickname is Nova.”

“Your drawings are beautiful.”

“I have lots of practice.” Y/n smiled, “Especially with Canis Major.”

Sirius blushed, “You draw it on my cup every day.”

He had turned the cup, so it was visible, “Canis Major, The Greater Dog.” Y/n informed.

“My brother's name is Regulus, from the-“

“The Leo constellation, the Lion.“

“Yeah.” Sirius muttered, in awe of her, “You really like the stars, don’t you?”

She giggled, “Wouldn’t be studying them if I didn’t.”

“Right, right.” God, Sirius was an idiot.

“What about you?” Y/n questioned, “What’re you majoring in?”

Sirius suddenly felt embarrassed again, “Teaching.”

“What subject?”

“History.”

“I would’ve done a lot better in history if you were my teacher.” Y/n said, and suddenly, she covered her mouth.

A shit-eating grin appeared on Sirius’ face, “You would’ve?”

“I am so sorry.” Y/n apologized hastily, “I didn’t mean to say that. I am such an idiot-“

“Relax, beautiful.” Sirius calmed, taking one of her hands that had been fidgeting like crazy, “It’s okay.”

Y/n smiled sheepishly, and Sirius untangled their hands, allowing them to begin on their school work. She focused on the pencil in her hand as she sketched more stars in the sky. Sirius’ hands tapped away at his keyboard as he began his seven-page book report. Sirius couldn’t help himself but take glances at her now and then.

As Sirius continued to type, his eyes began to blur the words together, making him silently groan. He didn’t want to ruin the moment by taking out his glasses, but he knew he would get nothing done if he didn’t. Quietly, he took his glasses case out and placed them on the bridge of his nose. Y/n didn’t look up, and Sirius let out a silent breath of relief.

He continued to type for what felt like hours, and without him noticing, his glasses began to slip down his nose. Y/n bit her lip gently before deciding to push up the glasses on his nose, causing him to stop what he was doing. Sirius had completely malfunctioned at her actions, and his heart began to race. He looked starstruck like he had just been hit with lightning. Y/n gave him a sheepish smile before going back to her journal.

And Sirius was left there, utterly starstruck.