#Menstruation Discrimination

[rightnewshindi]

शर्मनाक हरकत: मासिक धर्म के कारण 8वीं की दलित छात्रा को कक्षा से बाहर बैठाकर ली परीक्षा, वायरल वीडियो से हड़कंप

Tamilnadu News: तमिलनाडु के कोयंबटूर जिले ��े एक ऐसा मामला सामने आया है, जिसने इंसानियत को शर्मसार कर दिया। किनाथुकदावु तालुक के पास एक निजी मैट्रिकुलेशन स्कूल में पढ़ने वाली 8वीं कक्षा की एक दलित छात्रा को सिर्फ इसलिए कक्षा से बाहर बैठाकर परीक्षा देने को मजबूर किया गया, क्योंकि उसे मासिक धर्म शुरू हुआ था। यह घटना सोशल मीडिया पर वायरल हो चुकी है और लोग गुस्से में हैं। एक मां की बेबसी और बेटी की…

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

I have gone to several doctors over the years for this, and despite debilitating pain and multiple ovarian cysts showing up on scans consistently, no doctor has ever taken me seriously. It's easy to say "go to another one!" but after the first ten or so, it's a slog.

So many people who get periods are like “Ugh it sucks that having a menstrual cycle makes you almost die every month” like no that’s not normal you need to go to the doctor

[balu88r-blog]

Tamilnadu ಶಾಲೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಆಘಾತಕಾರಿ ಘಟನೆ: ಮುಟ್ಟಿನ ಸಮಯದಲ್ಲಿ ವಿದ್ಯಾರ್ಥಿನಿಯನ್ನು ತರಗತಿ ಹೊರಗೆ ಕೂರಿಸಿ ಪರೀಕ್ಷೆ ಬರೆಯಿಸಿದ ಪ್ರಾಂಶುಪಾಲರು..!

Tamilnadu ಕೊಯಂಬತ್ತೂರು ಜಿಲ್ಲೆಯ ಖಾಸಗಿ ಶಾಲೆಯೊಂದರಲ್ಲಿ 8ನೇ ತರಗತಿಯ ವಿದ್ಯಾರ್ಥಿನಿಯೊಬ್ಬಳು ಮುಟ್ಟು (ಪೀರಿಯಡ್ಸ್) ಪ್ರಾರಂಭವಾದ ಕಾರಣಕ್ಕೆ ತರಗತಿಯಿಂದ ಹೊರಗೆ ಕೂರಿಸಿ ಪರೀಕ್ಷೆ ಬರೆಯುವಂತೆ ಮಾಡಿರುವ ಆಘಾತಕಾರಿ ಘಟನೆ ನಡೆದಿದೆ. ಈ ಘಟನೆ ಸಾಮಾಜಿಕ ಜಾಲತಾಣಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ವೈರಲ್ ಆಗಿದ್ದು, ಶಾಲೆಯ ವಿರುದ್ಧ ತೀವ್ರ ಆಕ್ರೋಶ ವ್ಯಕ್ತವಾಗಿದೆ. Tamilnadu – ಘಟನೆಯ ವಿವರ ಕೊಯಂಬತ್ತೂರು ಜಿಲ್ಲೆಯ ಕಿನತುಕಡವು ತಾಲೂಕಿನ ಸೆಂಗುಟ್ಟೈಪಾಳಯಂ ಗ್ರಾಮದ ಸ್ವಾಮಿ ಚಿದ್ಭವಾನಂದ ಮೆಟ್ರಿಕ್ ಹೈಯರ್…

[paulcronin]

Let Them Have Cups (if they can't afford rags)

ACT MP Simon Court says women should buy menstrual or moon cups if they cannot afford other products.if . This is the face of ACT. I have no problems with being open about menstrual products. I do remember as a 12 year old cringing when we went down ” that” aisle, in the supermarket or being sent to the dairy for panty hose.  The Modess pads being wrapped in brown paper at Simmons Chemist in…

[avariantflaire]

atp i'm annoyed by the "o-oh no! i thought you were injured!" response in some fics to a character menstruating. may we please not normalise period ignorance or periods as adjacent to bodily injury. that just demeans the entire experience to a phenomenon that men can recognise and y'know maybe just educate yourself.

[gurugirl]

[4] It's Good to Be King | mean king!harry

MAIN MASTERLIST

Series Summary: Harry, a handsome, but ill-mannered new king, bound by tradition, must select a queen, and against all expectations, he chooses Y/n, a street beggar. Now, Y/n finds herself caught between the gilded cage of royalty and the cold, harsh simplicity of her past, navigating a court shocked by her presence and a king who revels in the scandal of it all.

Note: Harry is mean/uncouth in this, though things do get better. He doesn't treat anyone around him with much respect at all. Expect to not like him much at first. Also, this is set in the 1800s England, and while not completely historically accurate, I did my best to keep it as accurate as possible.

Ch. 4 Word Count: 8,762

Ch. 4 Warning: Talk of menstruation and bleeding, mentions of blood and wartime, aggressive male behavior (Harry gets a little violent with the Lord Mayor), discrimination

It's Good to Be King Masterlist

. .

Y/n hadn't been given a choice on the style of her wedding dress. It had already been selected for her. But it was breathtaking. She'd never seen anything like it before, and that she would soon be wearing it in front of the kingdom? It was no wonder she was not given a choice. She would never have picked such a lavish thing because she did not feel worthy of it.

That morning was her first fitting. She stood with her arms stretched outward, one person on each side, holding her steady, while the dressmaker pinned and tucked and cut at the lace and the silk, adjusting it to her size. Mrs. Mable was the royal seamstress, and Y/n couldn't help but feel she held some contempt for her. The way she was pulling and prodding, even poking her with pins, all felt intentional.

"Ow!" Y/n winced when Mrs. Mable stuck a pin through the silk skirt, and it grazed her skin. Again. She was becoming ireful toward the woman when all she wanted was to relive the kiss she'd just had with the king, not a few hours earlier. She'd received a handful of strangers into the Rose Room for the fitting, and she'd been soaring with hot cheeks and a softly fluttering heart before Mrs. Mable got her hands on her.

She didn't know that the lace had its own name, Honiton, or that the diamond necklace they showed her (to be kept in its satin case until the day of the wedding) was Turkish. The dress had an off-the-shoulder, open neckline, with layered sleeves down to her elbows, all lined with the special lace. The silk corset bodice was pointed downward in a deep V, while the skirt was full and pleated silk.

Staring at her figure in the mirror, she felt like a fraud. How had this happened to her? How had luck (or misfortune, she wasn't sure yet) stricken her so abruptly? It was one thing to have been expecting her new lot, to have been raised up for it and accustomed to royal life, but it was another to have been plucked from the streets, shoved into it blindly, and to have people enraged by her presence without ever getting to know her first.

"Please be careful. You're poking her…" Phoebe said to Mrs. Mable.

The woman, whose face was hidden behind silk and lace as she bunched up the bottom hem of the dress, dropped her pin cushion to the floor as she jabbed another sharp object into the fabric. "She'll be fine. I've only nicked her a few times. It's part of the work if you want it done properly."

"But she will be your queen. She is to be treated with the utmost care and —"

Mrs. Mable stood up and pulled at the back collar of Y/n's dress, making her nearly stumble. "Queen Consort. There is a difference. We'll see if she makes it that far."

"The King is taken by her. She will prove you all wrong. You'll see." Phoebe crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the dressmaker.

Y/n glanced at Phoebe in warning. She didn't want people arguing over her status. It wasn't worth it. If Mrs. Mable wanted to treat her like she was still a street beggar, all while fitting her for her royal wedding gown, then so be it. She'd soon learn who she was dealing with, and Y/n would not forget the treatment she was being subjected to.

"We will see." Mrs. Mable turned Y/n around and took her measuring tape to her hips, waist, and bust, before spinning her around again to help her step out of the dress. "I'll return two days before the wedding for the final fitting, along with the finished veil. And don't get too heavy-handed with tarts or the dress will be too tight."

Y/n looked down at her figure and glanced at it in the mirror. She hadn't gained very much weight at all, but kept being told she needed to gain more. Now there was the dressmaker telling her to go lightly on the very tart Y/n requested to have in the room for herself and anyone else who wanted some. Her mood was a little foul after having been prodded and nicked, so she huffed, stepping past Mrs. Mable to grab a piece of tart and shove it into her mouth as she stared at the woman in defiance.

When the dressmaker and her helpers left the room, Phoebe closed the door and leaned into it, shaking her head. "That woman is awful. There's gossip that she's been vying to have her daughter meet the king before you two are wed."

Y/n slid her standard dress back on, and Phoebe pushed herself from the door to help fasten the back. "What do you mean? To present her to him? For marriage?"

"I believe so."

She knew that the middle and upper classes of Thornekeep were spoiled and mean. So, it shouldn't have surprised her that Mrs. Mable didn't take seriously her eventual new title, and that she hoped her daughter could steal the designation for herself. Y/n was slowly learning about the politics of the kingdom and she was going to have to brace herself for what was soon to come.

"Now let's finish that tart."

. .

Harry was seething. The council had found the Lord Mayor guilty, but he was only charged a measly fine for his transgression. A fine! Imagine forcefully taking the king's wife-to-be from her quarters, openly disrespecting the crown, and humiliating her in front of the kingdom… and the punishment was nothing more than a fine?

He couldn't believe it when the news was sent to him. He'd planned on an in-person visit to retrieve the brooch from the Lord Mayor, but when he learned he'd gotten away with nary a slap to the wrist, he immediately sought out his Proctor to go back before the council to appeal the decision. His only recourse was to prove she'd been hurt in some way.

He stormed into the room where Y/n was in the middle of her etiquette class, and the governess stood from her chair quickly and lowered her head. "Your Majesty."

He breezed by the woman and pulled Y/n's chair out, dropping down to his knees in front of her without so much as a glance toward the governess. Y/n gasped when he pulled her skirts up and he put his hand over the dark blue and brown spot on her knee. He'd seen the bruise the morning before when he tried to get her to join him in his tub.

"This. Did this happen when they pushed you around and removed you from the castle?"

Y/n blinked slowly at him as he looked up at her. He looked desperate, wild. She had nearly forgotten the bruise herself and she certainly hadn't realized he'd even seen the thing.

"Yes. I was pushed down to my knees and hands from the steps. It was bruised much worse at first, but it's better now. Can hardly feel it really."

"And who pushed you? His name, Y/n. Was it the Lord Mayor?"

"I… I'm not sure. It was two men… The Lord Mayor never touched me except to take the brooch."

She watched as he clenched his jaw and looked down at the bruise, his thumb running along the top of her knee. "He was there, though. Did you hear him order the men to take you?"

Y/n thought back to that awful morning, and she nodded. "Yes. He said that your duties fall on him when you're away and that it was his command. And Niall! The guard, who's just there outside the door. He was there and he heard it and saw it all. That's who he said it to."

"So he ordered men to do this to you. And we have a witness." He pushed himself to stand up and stepped away quickly, back toward the door, before he turned to speak again. "I will get your brooch back for you today."

When the door was closed, the governess looked shocked as she watched Y/n slide the fabric back down her legs.

"What? Is this what it takes for you to notice my presence? The king himself must barge into your classroom and cause a disturbance for you to realize I'm sitting here?"

The woman wiped her hands down her dress and turned toward the table to speak. It seemed she only spoke to Y/n with her back turned to her. "I notice. I've already taught you plenty—"

Y/n stood up. "You should speak to me with more respect from now on. I will be the queen soon. If not, I'm sure the king will have words with you next. I will not return for any remaining classes. I understand now that I have much better manners than even you do."

She dismissed herself and stepped out of the room with that awful woman. Niall was waiting at the door, and he greeted her with a polite, sharp nod. "At least you and Phoebe are kind to me," she said, smiling at him as she began to walk toward the grand staircase that would lead them up to the king's chambers. "And you're kind to Phoebe as well. Thank you for that."

Niall didn't speak often. His duties didn't allow for it. But a few times he let his guard slip — so to speak — and he'd say a few words. "I've no reason to disrespect you or your lady-in-waiting."

Y/n smiled to herself as she continued up the steps. The stairs were wide, and they seemed to go on forever. The landings, on the way up, split the levels into threes, and the stairs curved around and continued up until they found the floor with the king's chambers and the Rose Room, where her chambers were. "If you disrespected Phoebe, I'm sure she'd be heartbroken. She rather likes you."

Before Y/n could pull the door open with it's heavy iron knob Niall spoke. "She does? Did she say something?"

She looked around the hallway and then up at Niall. "Of course she did. But that's nothing I can discuss with you. Secret is safe with me. No need to worry."

. .

Y/n had a large bruise on her left knee and a castle guard as witness. Harry doubted anyone else would offer to attest. He'd bring Niall with him the following day to meet again with the Proctor for proof of the Lord Mayor's mishandling of his queen-to-be. But first, he needed to find the Lord Mayor to deal with him at once and retrieve the brooch.

He didn't bother announcing his arrival or sending the house steward to call to the Lord Mayor that he was there. And it was good to be king because it meant that people had to listen to what he asked of them, even if they didn't much like him. So when he lowered his hand and stepped inside, the house steward bowed his head and let Harry in without a peep.

He wasn't hard to find. Harry spotted him quickly in his first-floor study, reading, and the Lord Mayor stood in haste. "Your Majesty. To what do I owe the honor of your sudden and unexpected presence?"

The king stepped toward the large bookshelf and ran a finger over the hard bindings. Harry's saunter and cold grin were vexing. The Lord Mayor had never met anyone so plaguy in his life. The king was full of himself and was purposefully bucking tradition. He had a much more suitable and beautiful option than Y/n, which the king would have loved.

"You have something that belongs to Y/n. The woman to whom I will be wed at the end of next week."

"I have nothing in my home that belongs to that girl."

Harry bit down on his molars as his dark gaze seared at the Lord Mayor before he bounded toward him, heavy steps over the wooden floors, until the king's hand was wrapped around the man's throat and his back pressed against the wall.

"I will not be disrespected by you once more, Virgil," he spat the name between his teeth. "First, you insult me behind my back and make a show of carting off my wife-to-be and her family like animals. And now you lie to my face? If you do not produce the brooch, that will be considered theft, which you will regret when I drag you before the council."

The man's eyes were wide as he tried to pry the king's strong grip from his windpipe. He wheezed as the back of his throat constricted when he attempted to speak.

"I can't hear you. Speak louder, worm."

Harry was enjoying watching Virgil squirm and gasp. He could squeeze tighter and hold on for a few minutes longer, be done with the man for good. But then, having to explain to Parliament what had happened would be awfully annoying, so he opted for just scaring him instead.

"You were much easier to subdue than I imagined. But then again, you have aged like spoiled curd. Flimsy muscles trying to pry my hand away. Give it another go. Let's see what you've got, old man."

The Lord Mayor did not have it in him to pry Harry's hand from his throat. And it was true, he was getting older and his body was not as virile as it had once been. He was no match for the young king. He tried twisting, but instead of working himself free, Harry released him and stepped back as the man fell to the floor and violently coughed.

Harry laughed as he stepped around the Lord Mayor to his desk and sat down in the chair, closing the book Virgil had been reading. "Where's the brooch? Or should I fetch your wife and tell her what you've done?"

The Lord Mayor, with his palm at his throat, coughed. "King Styles…" He inhaled sharply, his voice pinched as he tried to speak after the king had restricted his air. "I was protecting you. Protecting Thornekeep!"

Harry glared at the pathetic man, still on the floor, trying to push himself to his knees. "You defied me and the kingdom. You showed contempt toward Y/n and her family." He pushed himself from the chair and stood over Virgil, looking down at him. "And on your command, you had two men push her down to her knees, inflicting pain and making her bruise. That is assault, which will not go unpunished."

The Lord Mayor finally leveraged himself to stand, placing a hand on the bookshelf and pulling himself upward. "My Lord, please. The girl is a street beggar. Her word is not to be trusted. My advice is to consider another—"

Harry stepped in closer, his boots bumping into the old man's as he pushed him by his chest, his back against the bookshelf. "Your advice is not needed nor warranted. I am King. I will choose what I please, and I will have what I want."

The man stood with his hands upward as he bent back and away from the king, still standing toe-to-toe with him. "I didn't hurt the girl or her family. I simply returned them from where they came."

"I will have you tried for treason. Assault! What you did to her is inexcusable. You flagrantly disobeyed my command. If the council doesn't find you guilty, I do. And if they don't impose a more severe penalty, I will. I'll take this into my own hands if need be."

"There's a beautiful young woman. Much lovlier than Y/n. Pearl is her name… Smart, golden hair, a virgin. Her family comes from—"

Harry laughed loudly, cutting Virgil off. "I will marry Y/n. I want no one else for my queen. You have overstepped your duties with me, and after I'm done with you, you will not be welcome in or near the castle. You will be stripped of your title, and you and your wife will be considered a disgrace to the kingdom. I will see to it."

"Please… My Lord…" He kept his hands upward in surrender. "This is excessive. Do you really think that having my title stripped will be well received by the proletariat who elected me? It would be bedlam! The people would not stand for such controversy!"

"Has it not gotten into your skull, yet, that I am not concerned by outrage or controversy. Let them be angry. Anger is better than complacency."

"Complacency is prosperous. Anger is costly."

"And I have the means to pay whatever the cost if need be."

"You are going to bankrupt the kingdom with your frivolous actions. Your father would be turning in his grave if he knew what you were up to."

Harry spat, "Good. I hope my father rots. Let the spoiled aristocracy learn to work for their meals like everyone else. Have you seen the rookeries? Do you know the reality of what sits on the outskirts? Thornekeep is prosperous, but only for you. Only for those who don't need it."

"Oh, pish!" Virgil laughed incredulously. "You act like some kind of martyr, yet you've seen the rookeries of Thornekeep but once! Stop this madness! You will drive our kingdom into the ground with your foolishness! You've no idea the damage it will cause—"

Harry slammed his fist into the wood of the bookcase directly next to the Lord Mayor's head. "I have been to the slums in many a kingdom. You forget, maggot, that I spent most of my adulthood outside of Thornekeep as commander-in-chief of our kingdom's armies. I led my men to victory in dangerous battles across the land. I fought alongside the downtrodden. I've lived it. I've seen it all up close. I do not care who hates me. Let my father's rest be disturbed. I care not!"

"Heavens! What is going on?" Virgil's wife appeared in the doorway, the look of surprise on her face quite amusing to Harry.

Harry patted the Lord Mayor's shoulder and stepped back. "We were just having a good ol' chat about my future wife. Though Virgil here does seem to fancy a golden-haired girl called Pearl, I explained to him that I'm a man with morals and already spoken for. I'm sure any other man would be grateful for a chance with her. Even married ones like yourself."

The woman blinked in surprise at her husband. "Little Pearl? You mean Mr. and Mrs. Mable's daughter?"

Harry nodded, clasping his hands behind his back as he moved toward the doorway and smiled casually at her. "Yes. I believe that was who he was referring to. He's quite fond of the girl. I don't know how he's become privy to her virginal status, but your husband seems quite excited about that detail. Bit too young for me…"

He leaned in closer to the Lord Mayor's wife and spoke quietly. "I prefer 'em thicker through the calf and more mature personally, but your husband has his own tastes, I presume. Just keep an eye on him around little Pearl, will you?"

"Your majesty!?" The woman looked at the king, her mouth agape.

Harry grinned back at the man. "My wife's brooch, the one you stole? Have it sent to her within the hour, or I will be back again before nightfall."

. .

Y/n felt feverish and her insides were twisting and turning and squeezing tight, like her guts were being clamped together and wrung into a ball. Her sisters' bickering about the little game they were playing nearly tipped her over the edge of anger. She wanted to scream at them for silence. And most interestingly, she hadn't been able to finish the dinner that was served to her either. She had no appetite.

"Y/n. Are you feeling alright? You look unwell." Her mother put the back of her hand up to her forehead and gasped. "My child! You're burning hot! Phoebe! Where is Phoebe? Where is the guard?"

Y/n sighed and leaned forward as she closed her eyes, placing her elbows on the table. She wasn't worried about her manners at that moment. She felt like she was about to vomit. She heard her mother shuffle from the dining room to find Phoebe, who'd just wandered off only moments before.

If she hadn't been in so much sudden pain, she would have found it amusing that both Phoebe and Niall were nowhere in sight. Pushing herself from her chair to stand, her father rushed to her side. "Careful there. Here we go."

He leveraged her to standing, draping her arm over his shoulder, and began to help her back to the King's quarters. Before they had reached the stairs, Phoebe was there on her other side, arm drawn across her back to help. "I'm so sorry, madam! I didn't know you were poorly. I would have—"

"It's okay, Pheobe. Don't stress. I just need to lie down…"

She hadn't seen the king all afternoon and figured it was better that he wasn't seeing her in that state. He'd probably change his mind about her altogether if he saw her like that. If she wasn't healthy, what good was she to him? She inhaled sharply through clenched teeth when a spasm wracked her organs.

"Should we fetch a doctor?" Her father said.

"I just need to lie down. Please."

Y/n was brought to the king's bed and propped against the pillows when she noticed her mother, sisters, and Niall standing in the doorway watching. She didn't want an audience. She wanted to rest and needed the pain to go away.

Phoebe pulled at the blankets as she tried to make the bed more comfortable, and Y/n groaned. "Please… I just need rest. I'm not dying." Although she felt like she was.

"Yes. Of course. We'll leave you be. But we will be fetching a doctor whether you like it or not."

Y/n closed her eyes and rolled to her side as her father and Phoebe finally left the room. She groaned quietly and hugged herself around her stomach. She wondered if she'd eaten something bad. Or perhaps God was finally punishing her for her lustful thoughts and behavior.

Making herself into a ball, she clenched her teeth and felt something wet on her leg. She paused and slowly she reached down, bringing her hand under her chemise to feel, and when she lifted her hand in front of her face, she hadn't expected to see blood.

Blood coming from… there?

She pushed herself up to sit and pulled at her skirt. More blood. "Am I with my monthly sickness?" she whispered.

It had been some months since she'd bled at all, so to suddenly see blood… Well, it explained the pain she was feeling, though it'd never ached like that before. Hissing in pain, she bent forward and closed her eyes. At least now she knew she wasn't going to die.

. .

Y/n startled when the door to her chambers was suddenly pushed open, and in stepped a vexed-looking Harry. "Are you okay? I was told you've fallen ill."

"I'm not ill. Not in the sense that I'm sick with something I've caught. It's my…" She glanced away and sighed before looking him back in the eye. "Lunation."

"Lunation," he said the word slowly as he stood there, blinking at her. If she'd ever seen a confused man before, he was it. She nearly laughed at the expression on his face. To see the king look at her like that… Well, it wasn't something she felt she'd be seeing often. Had no one told him? She'd assumed everyone in the castle was talking about it by now.

"I'm having my menses."

"Oh! Yes. I see..." He stepped in closer next to her bed. "But why must you be here? I thought I'd find you in my room."

Y/n pressed her hands into the top of the bedding she sat upon. "Special mattress. They put this over the bigger one underneath. To catch my blood. I didn't think you'd want me next to you while I'm… well…"

Harry pushed his hand over the thin, smaller mattress and nodded. "Is it comfortable. Feels stiff."

"Nicer than anything I used to sleep on. I'm perplexed that this is meant for me to bleed on, and then it gets burned after. I'd have loved to have had this mattress at one time."

"Is it always like this for you? Your menses?"

Y/n leaned back and placed her hands over her stomach. "No. I haven't bled in some time. It was never on schedule anyway. The doctor said I must have been malnourished, and now that I'm eating well, my body is… revitalising was the word he used. He did come with tea and some medicine, and I feel much better now, though. He said I'll be fine."

She heard him push out a breath, like he'd been holding it in. "I've got something for you…"

He reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out the lovely brooch that had been taken from her. She smiled and sat up. "I'm so glad it's not been lost for good. It's so beautiful."

Harry reached for her hand and placed the golden breastpin into her palm. "Virgil will not be coming around here again. His invitation to the wedding has been revoked. My Proctor is working on having his title stripped."

"Thank you for getting it back for me. I realize my presence here is an incumbrance. To you and to everyone who cares about the crown. I can see I'm not well-liked in this castle."

Harry furrowed his brow and trailed his eyes over her figure. "Who else has been rude with you?"

"Besides you?" She tucked her lips into her mouth and watched his expression fall.

"My rudeness was meant to be a test of your resolve. Have I not amended myself to you?"

"Little by little, I suppose. I can't expect you to dote on me like a man burning with desire when you have none for me."

"I may not express my desires plainly, but I would not have you here if I didn't want you here. Perhaps it's not evident to you, my motivations, but you have been a surprise to me. A pleasant one. One that I intend on keeping for good."

Y/n had only been teasing at first, but his tiny confession was consoling to her. She knew there was a small flame burning between them, but his visage was not an easy one to see through.

"You chose me to anger the kingdom and to produce an heir. Are you saying now that there's more to it than just that?"

He clenched his jaw and slid his irises down to her bare feet. "It is true that was my initial purpose with you. But as I said, you've been a surprise to me."

She looked down at her feet as he ran the pad of his finger over her ankle and then upward to her shin, stopping at the bottom hem of her chemise. She swallowed as she looked back up to his face at his lips. The lips she'd kissed just the morning before. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about how it felt. It left such a warm, lingering sensation on her skin that she was sure she'd never be without it again.

Harry sat down at the edge of the mattress, his hand still on her shin, before he drew his fingers back down to her ankle. He'd been so worried about her at first. His assistant, Fred, told him she'd nearly fainted at dinner and had to be brought to bed, and something about a doctor. He probably should have waited to hear the rest, but his legs were carrying him quickly up to his room to get to her before he could even think about what he was doing.

When he didn't find her in his room, he dashed back into the hallway like a madman to the Rose Room, to her quarters. His heart had been racing, and he was already thinking the worst. Until he saw her propped against her feather pillows with her pretty eyes aimed wide at his intrusion.

The truth was, his mind had been in a fog since he'd kissed her. He wasn't a man who kissed his conquests typically. He found kissing to be a waste when his only intention was usually to get himself off. But Y/n's mouth was soothing and sweet. He could have let himself kiss her for hours, just savoring the smell of her skin and the tiny licks of her tongue against his. Best of all, her breath wasn't offensive in the least. It was like herbs and warm honey.

He brushed his knuckles against his lips in reverie and pressed his palm over her shin, wrapping his fingers around the underside, and kept his gaze fixed on her. He didn't know what he'd have done if she had been worse off. He was still feeling the waves of calming relief easing his mind now that he'd found her well.

"You've also been a surprise to me. I disliked you at first. Thought you were the devil." She smiled softly, biting her lip and then releasing it.

"I'm still the devil, little mouse. That, you were not wrong about."

She shook her head. "No. You're different with me. If you were still treating me as you had at first, I'd be contemplating running off with Lane."

His brows stitched together tightly, and the ease on his face was gone. "Lane. Is he going to be a problem for us?"

"A problem? He's my friend."

"He's a friend who's smitten with you, and you just said you'd thought of running off with him. Are you also smitten with him?"

Y/n laughed and shook her head. "Heavens no! Never."

Harry did not laugh with her. "But you're close to one another. Has he ever tried to kiss you?"

She stopped chuckling and blinked at the king slowly. Was she to lie to him and say no? Certainly, he wouldn't take it well if she told him the truth. She'd seen him in his jealousy before and wasn't keen on another outburst from him.

Looking down at where he was now clutching her shin, she shook her head no but kept her lips pressed together. She was afraid that if she were to speak the lie, he'd see right through her.

Harry reached toward her chin and tilted her face up. "Look at me when you answer. Have you kissed him?"

She blinked harshly and inhaled through her nose as she shook her head again, but she couldn't lie when she was looking directly at him. "Just… Well… Once. He was drunk, and I only wanted him to stop asking, so I let him, but that was it. I never even thought of him like that… I—"

"Who else have you kissed other than me?"

"My Lord, I—"

"Harry." He interrupted. "In private, you will call me by my given name, unless you plan on running off with another man, then the cold formalities will do. So tell me. How many others have you kissed?"

"No one else. Just you. I can hardly even count Lane, it was gross."

He let go of her chin and stood up, stepping away, his back to her. "And did he do anything else to you? Touch you anywhere he shouldn't?"

"Of course not. You are the only one who's ever touched me where he shouldn't."

Harry turned to look at her. "Where I shouldn't? Are you the maker of the law now? To tell the king, your husband, that he shouldn't touch you?"

"We're not wed yet."

"I could wed you tonight if I so please. Do not forget who I am."

"How could I? You're the devil. Just like you said."

Harry let out an incredulous sigh and shook his head. "You're free to leave if you like. I'm sure you'd prefer Lane over the devil."

She crossed her legs together and sat up, glaring at him. "Your jealousy is risible when the whole kingdom knows of your past exploits. How many women before me did you lie with and kiss, and how many do you still take?"

She wasn't sure she was prepared to hear his answer. She was sure he'd been having his fun and would continue to.

Stepping back toward the bed, he narrowed his eyes at her and placed his palms down on the mattress. "Since you? None. I haven't."

"You didn't return to your room last night. I must assume you were in another woman's bed."

"I was in my office working. I slept there. I have taken no women since you have arrived, and before you, it matters not."

She wanted to believe that he had not been soothing his heathen nature with other women, but a man like Harry, the king, could do as he pleased, and Y/n would have no say in what he did when he was away from her.

"Then why should it matter that a boy once kissed me a long time ago? And I don't think I believe that you've been keeping your fiddle clean either."

He couldn't answer her first question without sounding like a pathetic sap, but he knew the answer was because he was, in fact, jealous. He thought that when he'd kissed her, he had been her first. Harry didn't know why he was feeling so sentimental about a little kiss, but he likened the feeling to someone having poked a sharp pin into his chest. Even her accusation left him stung in pain.

"I might be the devil to you, but your accusations of me are false. I have no interest in anyone else in that way."

"But you could if you wanted. You're the all-powerful king. What's stopping you from rogering any other pretty girl who surely throws herself at your feet? Certainly, it isn't because of me."

Harry stood up, removing his hands from the mattress and stared at her in disbelief. He'd been accused of many things before, but somehow, having Y/n fault him with infidelity when he'd practically been a saint was absurd.

"Would you like me to go off and stick my fork into another woman? I have no interest in doing such a thing, but you seem quite fond of the idea."

She looked away from him. She wasn't sure why he cared or why she was provoking him. "I'm tired. I need rest."

"You didn't answer me earlier. Who else has been rude with you, Y/n? Tell me."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she sighed as she looked back at him. "The governess, the laundress, the dressmaker, some of the maids, the castle steward, the butler's servants, one of the footmen was particularly hateful when I was being dragged away into the cart—"

"Is your lady in waiting also hostile with you?"

She shook her head. "No. Phoebe's very kind. I think of her as a friend. Niall too, he's also very genial. I trust them both equally.

Harry looked down at the floor and worked the bottom part of his jaw from side to side. He hadn't realized that so many of his staff had been cruel to her. He expected some friction, but this? He lifted his gaze back up to hers. "Why haven't you told me?"

"Did you not already imagine I'd be treated with such disdain? No one wants me here in the castle… Well, most don't. I represent everything they hate."

"I suppose I was mistaken in thinking that even if they disliked you, they wouldn't outright scorn you. Even the governess?" He shook his head and placed his hand on the wooden poster of the bed.

"I've tried everything with her. I meet with her on time for every class. I'm polite, quiet, and I always practice what she's shown me. But I've come to accept that she thinks she's wasting her time with me… that I'm not worth the trouble. She never looks at me. Only speaks with her back turned, and then half the class acts like I don't exist. Most of the hour is spent looking at a wall while she reads. One time, I arrived early and she wasn't there. When she finally stepped into the room, it was half past and she never once looked at me or spoke, even when I asked her what she'd be teaching me that day."

"Do not indulge her anymore. You needn't put yourself through that kind of turmoil for a class that teaches useless politesse."

"I won't. I told her today that I wouldn't return."

"Good. And how are your parents faring?"

Y/n smiled, confused and a little astounded by the sudden change of subject as well as the shift in his mood. "They are very happy. I think they, too, are treated poorly, but they ignore it because they're so strong-headed. The beds and the food are quite enough to keep their mouths shut about ill treatment."

She watched as he traced his fingers over the thin stuffed mattress she sat on. "As soon as you are given your title, anyone who treats your family badly will be punished for it."

Y/n nodded and looked down at the brooch in her hand, running her thumb along the engraving. The small thing was heavier than it looked. She was glad to have it back, mostly so that it wasn't lost. She knew it meant a lot to Harry because it was once his mother's.

"She didn't have a chance to wear it but a handful of times," he said, looking at the breastpin. "They were going to bury it with her, but I stole it." He smiled at the memory as he traced his finger along the edge of the blanket near her thigh. "It was sitting in a tin tray with her other valuable jewels, and after I took it, my father tore the castle apart to try and find it. No one ever suspected it was me. Had hidden it for many years, then took it with me to war. No one ever knew."

Y/n looked up at him. She wasn't surprised that he'd stolen it as a child, and somehow it made him seem so much more human. He was just a small boy when he lost his mother. He deserved to have a piece of her to take with him.

"So you've always had a rebellious heart."

He licked his lips and looked down at her. "Yes. I suppose I have."

"Do you miss her?"

Stress lines carved into his forehead. "Not anymore. I still think of her, though. Fond memories… I came to terms with all that a long time ago."

"You're a very strong person."

"Strong? Maybe. Most everything is a farce, Y/n. I prefer the appearance of stoicism, so that's what I allow everyone to see. It's better to keep emotion out of reach."

"Does that mean you don't allow yourself to feel sad or happy?"

"I don't allow others to see it. That does not mean I don't feel those things. I do, however, prefer to remain rational. I let logic rule, not my emotions."

"But you are making significant changes by rejecting convention. You are causing tumult in the kingdom, and people are outraged. How is it that you are ruling by logic when you've created such a stir amongst the people?"

Harry sighed and sat down next to her, his eyes reaching from her face down to the brooch in her hand. "Do you believe that my actions speak of a man governed by his irrational feelings?"

"Some people think you're acting rashly. But to me, I find your plight noble. The poors are always overlooked. We fend for ourselves the best we can, but now to have the king on our side feels like our voice has finally been heard. Emotional or rational thinking, I don't know. But it's not without good virtue or mindful discernment."

"Mindful discernment." He smiled as he returned his gaze to hers. "I suppose I do have a soft spot for the undervalued among us. Even if it began as a means to an end."

Y/n let the words sink into her pores. She knew all along that he chose her to upset people. She wasn't delusive. Even if he'd started being nicer on occasion, she was still but a means to an end for him. But he was also a means to an end for her as well. She and her family could live comfortably, well fed, well rested, safe… Maybe true love had not been meant for her like she once imagined.

"Well, I'm certainly glad you saw me that day. Otherwise, I'd just be another undervalued, begging strangers for any kindness. At least I have a comfortable bed to lie down in." Yn laughed and closed her fingers around the brooch. "My mother thinks you courted me. I don't know why she'd believe a king would be interested in a street beggar, but I won't correct her. She still believes in true love and fate and all that. Don't have the heart to tell her how it happened. That you selected me out of convenience. A means to an end, if you will."

Harry's brows pulled together. "Is that what you think? That this is all just a show?"

"Is it not?"

"You will be crowned Queen, and you will be my wife, with whom I will produce an heir. That is not a show."

"Maybe not a show. But you said it yourself, a means to an end."

"What were you expecting, Y/n? Love at first sight? Anyone I would have selected would have been the same. But I did not anticipate to find you so alluring. I've grown very fond of you in these weeks."

She swallowed as her skin burned hot. It was most infuriating to her that he could sway her emotions so rapidly. In one beat, she was a disappointing burden, and yet in another, she was fond and alluring.

Even as she sat there, the thin fabric of her chemise covering most of her skin, while she bled into the mattress below her, he meant his words just the same. She was more beautiful and captivating by the day. Lifting his hand up to the curve of her jaw, he let his pupils wander over the features of her face, and he could tell she was nervous.

"What is it, mouse?" he asked in a soft timbre.

She blinked her eyes and looked back up at him, her mouth parted as she paused for a moment to let her irises mesh with his. "Sometimes you're confusing to me. I don't know how to feel when you speak about me. I know you don't love me. I never expected that from you. But I don't think I imagined you'd find me alluring either. Especially right now while I'm painting the mattress under me in red."

He slid his thumb over her cheekbone as he pushed out a breathy laugh.

"Is what I said laughable to you?" she asked, her brow raised.

He grinned. "Yes, your words amuse me. You're quick-witted. Do you think that because you're having your mensus that I would recoil in disgust?"

She nodded. "Yes, in fact. Even my father is repulsed, and he loves me."

Harry shook his head, and she watched his gaze drag down to her bare ankles and then back up to her face. It was almost lewd the way he so brazenly wiped his sight over her frame the way he had. She might as well have been lying there naked.

"I'm not squeamish by a little blood, Y/n. I've sewn limbs and gashed wounds together. I've used my bare hands to stop the bleeding of maimed soldiers more times than I care to count. I saw the most ghastly things when I was leading our royal army not that long ago. Your mensus does not unnerve me in the slightest."

"I see. But even still, it isn't desirable. You cannot tell me you find me alluring in this moment."

"And why not? You are not less beautiful or mouthy because of it. It does not deter my fondness." He grinned.

She had a hard time believing him. But why would he lie to her? He had no reason to try and make her feel better about herself because either way, she wasn't going anywhere.

"Even when I offered myself to you the morning before, you didn't want me, and I wasn't yet bleeding. How can you say these things to me now?"

Harry shifted, his knee pushed into her thigh as he took her face in his hands. "What are you on about? I made it clear my feelings about that. And then I kissed you. Do you not remember any of it?"

Her lashes fluttered as she tried to maintain calm. Of course, she remembered it all. Word for word. And then the kiss… Every brush of his lips and tongue, the way her body washed in heat every time she relived the kiss in her mind. It had changed a part of her, so of course, she hadn't forgotten.

"I remember."

He nodded and let go of her cheeks. She remembered, but did she remember it the way he did? Had he been alone in the way his heart pounded wildly behind his chest, in the way his fingertips burned, and his blood simmered… The way he was breathless when he finally pulled away? For that had never happened to him before, and it marked him so violently that he couldn't think straight all night.

And it had just been a kiss. Was he a fool to let the feel of her warm mouth against his take up so much space in his chest as he had? Even then, he'd wanted to kiss her again to revel in the sensation.

"I can't stop thinking about it. The kiss…" she confessed.

He looked back up at her face, relieved at her words but stricken by his shameful inner thoughts. He couldn't help but feel a kindred madness working its way through his veins.

"Nor can I," Harry replied quietly, almost reluctantly, like an admission passed between the cracks of armour. “The kiss, I can still feel it sitting on my lips.”

His thumb skimmed her bottom lip, light as breath, his eyes fixed there. "The moment I felt your mouth on mine, I knew it was something that would stay with me.” He paused. “And I found myself imagining it over and over.”

Y/n sat still, afraid to breathe too loudly, her heart fluttering rapidly like a mouse, the pulse pumping in her neck.

Harry’s voice dropped lower. “It lingers. The feeling of you. I wasn't prepared to let it sink me to the depths.”

She shivered, her nerves causing her skin to prick, as his words lay gently over her heart. "But you left so quickly after and didn't return to me last night. I know you said you were working, but you made your choice to keep away from me."

“Because I didn’t trust myself last night.” His hand slid to the side of her neck, his thumb pressing lightly into the hollow of her throat. “You offered yourself to me, and I was feeling reckless things. I have spent a lifetime reining in heedless actions. Staying away was best for us both.”

She boldly slid her shaky hand against his leg as his gaze lifted sharply to hers. He hadn't expected it, and in that brief moment, a recognition passed between them; they were two people, human and flawed, no different than the other. Their outward status meant nothing in those seconds that ticked by.

He leaned forward slowly, his nose brushing against hers. “You drive me mad.”

She smiled gently, their lips nearly touching. “You deserve it.”

That earned a brief breath of a laugh from him, more air than sound. And then, before reason could interrupt, before obligation, or her own festering doubts could rise to interfere, Harry kissed her.

It was not like the first time. This one felt impatient, a test of sanity or madness, a sating of curiosity. It was filled with a slow ache that had been building since their first clash of wills. His mouth moved over hers with devastating precision until she pressed her tongue to his, and the precision turned into a starved pace, as though every second he didn’t kiss her was one he could no longer justify.

Y/n’s fingers crept up his hard, solid chest, curling into the soft linen of his shirt as she responded, matching his hunger with a keenness of her own. Her body ached with a desperate need to be touched, to know she mattered to him.

And Harry touched her like she did matter. As if the truth he couldn’t yet speak was being carved into the space between them. His lips opened and closed around hers, his fingers slid gently up her spine to the back of her neck as she moaned into his mouth.

A harsh knock on the door startled them. The king slowly parted from her and turned toward the door. "Who's there?"

Y/n sat forward to watch the door open, and in stepped Harry's assistant, hands clasped behind his back, head lowered. "Your majesty. Forgive my intrusion, but your presence is requested. The Lord Mayor and His Grace, Duke Hughes are here to settle a dispute."

"Send them away. It's far too late to be resolving conflicts, and I have nothing more to say to the Lord Mayor today."

The man nodded shallowly as he kept his eyes turned to the floor. "He said that if you refuse to meet with him, he will report you for theft, assault, and trespassing."

Harry laughed and ran a finger under his nose. "That spineless worm. Fine. Tell him to make himself comfortable in the drawing room. I'll come find him soon."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Fred said as he closed the door behind himself.

Harry moved his hand from hers and fixed his gaze on her pretty eyes. “You should rest.”

“I won’t be able to,” she murmured. “Not after that.”

“After the kiss or the intrusion?"

She smiled shyly and looked down at her lap. "The kiss."

Harry nudged her chin upward to look at him. "Then think of it as a dream.”

She looked at him as he pulled away, her voice barely above a hush. “Did you feel reckless again?”

His soft green eyes scanned hers for a quiet moment. Then, with a final kiss to her brow, he answered, “Maybe.”

With that, he stood, smoothing the front of his waistcoat, his mask of control slowly knitting itself back over his face — but not before she caught the softness still lingering at the corners of his mouth.

“I'll be around to check on you, but I'd better find you fast asleep when I return. And I’ll see to the governess tomorrow.”

He made for the door, and just before exiting, he glanced over his shoulder with a glint of something playful in his eyes. “Rest, little mouse. The devil’s watching over you tonight.”

She pushed a breathy laugh from her lips and watched the edge of his mouth turn upward before he left her alone in her room. The silence around her felt stiff and accusatory, but she quelled the burgeoning shame and guilt that started to rise up in her. Y/n was done with needless worrying about wanting to kiss a handsome man who would soon be her husband. She touched her lips softly, the feel of his mouth engraved on hers.

Perhaps he was the devil but she was beginning to see that maybe the devil wasn't as bad as everyone had said.

. .

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[siverfanweedo]

Actually my last point on trans masc and transphobia + erasure.

I will never ever be okay with people leaving out how jkr treats transman. She wrote an essay, she agreed with and followed a terf who wrote a book about how trans men are girls who are mutilating their bodies but was lying and acted stole photos from trans men. And I'll never ever be okay with people who don't realize her 2020 tweet was attacking language used for trans masc who still menstruate.

I'll never be okay with how trans men are left out of the conversation of reproductive rights. I know trans men who have given birth. I've heard stories of trans men who face the same road blocks to hysterectomies as cis women.

By dismissing or ignoring the issues trans men face you are actually making the world less safe for us.

Like I'm not here saying I have it worse or trans men have it worse we don't. But I can't describe how I feel when people gloss over trans masc discrimination.

[genderstarbucks]

Acknowledging that transandrophobia exists is not us denying that transmisogyny exists

If you believe in transmisogyny but not transmisandry, why? Give me an actual GOOD reason

Transandrophobia is just a word to describe the shit that us trans men and transmascs go through, it says nothing about our thoughts on transmisogyny

I am a "transandrophobia truther" because I believe that transphobia specifically directed towards trans man and transmascs exist.

Yes, I do believe in transmisogyny because trans women and transfems DO face transphobia specifically for being women and fem

But I also believe that transandrophobia exists, because it fucking does

Yes, we're both trans but we face different kinds of discrimination

Transandrophobia is literally just a word describing the hate that trans men and transmascs face, just like transmisogyny is literally just a word describing the hate that trans women and transfems face

I'm tired of you people believing that trans men and transmascs don't face any oppression and are generally accepted

WE FUCKING AREN'T, ALL THESE LAWS BEING PASSED AFFECTS US TRANS MEN AND TRANSMASCS TOO

Trans men and transmascs are not seen as the "more acceptable" way to be trans

We're told:

- testosterone is a poison and will make us bad pepple

- we're transitioning to the "bad side"

- we're just little girls making "bad" decisions

We're also:

- treated as little white twinks

- treated as fucking babies

- seen as "transtrenders" if we're still femme in any way

- seen as dangerous if we're too manly or masculine

- treated as "not real men" if we menstruate, get pregnant or do anything of the sort

We're told time and time again that our identities aren't important and that the discrimination we face isn't real and that our existence just means we're transmisogynistic

How do you think we feel?

It's even worse when shit like this comes from our own community

[faty2007]

When you Google Masculinism you find this:

"... to eliminate discrimination against men."

But when you Google Feminism:

"... equally for the sexes"

When they say they advocate against the discrimination against men, we don't shame them, we don't hurt them, we don't invalidate their struggle as Feminists.

But when Radical Feminists claim the same thing for women, we get hated on, threatened and ridiculed. The fact that the Liberation of women is called "Radical" Feminism is already very telling.

Masculinism activists are almost inexistent. I'll tell you why, simple: because men don't struggle the way we do.

When you think about the worst case scenario, let's say you're now a homeless man. Worst thing can happen to you is you get beaten by other drunk men. Maybe you get killed by one. But the likelihood of being murdered is significantly lower in comparison to homeless women.

If you're a woman, chances are you'll probably get raped at least once. Since 56% percent of homeless women get raped. Menstruation, you'll bleed over yourself since you have to choose between pads and food, you're hungry and you think you can deal with the blood, you can't actually. You'll get an infection and you'll probably get a fever. If you don't manage to find a solution, you'll die. If you don't get killed by one of your rapists of course.

Every thing men think it's the worst thing they can experience, chances are, it's worse if you're a woman.

So, yes. Women HAVE it fucking harder of course.

Everything I've written is a direct testimony of a REAL homeless woman. And a real homeless man.

[drowned1961poet]

I really would like to know why people hate J.K. Rowling so much and what kind of background is behind it?? !If this post makes you uncomfortable, please just skip. I don’t intend to harm anyone or to make anyone uncomfortable, but to just understand what is happening and hear your opinion!

So, I have been a Harry Potter fan since I was around 10 and a Marauders fan only for the last 3 years. And all this time, I saw things like “If you support J.K. Rowling, you are not welcome here” and alike (which is totally understandable, because people can do whatever they want about their OWN profiles and posts), but I have never bothered to ask why. I saw this, and I was like, “Well, if so many people are saying this, then it must be true.” Or “I mean, I know that Harry Potter is not the most progressive book, not taking into account that it was published in 1997, so why shouldn’t I believe it?”. It always felt like the Marauders fans are safe people. I mean, they do have different opinions on a lot of things, but they can also see them differently without much judgment and are always ready to support people. I always felt like I could be safe there, no matter if I was a part of the LGBTQ+ community or not, no matter what nationality I was, whatever my pronouns were, and in general that I was different.

What I don’t get is the hatred for J.K. Rowling. Let’s see what I have understood from the posts I have read. From the first bit of information, I found that it all started when she asked what to call “People who menstruate” (lol, just “people who menstruate”??). And then somehow, it led to a discussion of whether “someone’s sex” was a real thing. Which I think it is, but that doesn't mean it will always be. What J.K. Rowling says later is that “If sex isn’t real, the lived reality of women globally is erased. I know and love trans people, but erasing the concept of sex removes the ability of many to meaningfully discuss their lives.” And now I understand that what she means by “sex” is not as much a biological prospect as being a part of womanhood. So what I don’t get is what the logic is behind “sex isn’t real” coming from trans people. Isn’t it that being a transgender person in a way means being connected to our stereotypical knowledge of masculinity and femininity, as well as biologically? I mean, trans women often wear feminine clothes, have longer hair, and wear make-up and heels because that is what makes them “enough of a woman,” whatever that is supposed to mean, and the same with trans men. So if sex wasn’t real, would people really care so much?

Sex shaped our concepts of understanding the world and how we see ourselves in it. In my opinion, sex shouldn’t matter as much as it does. I don’t think colors, jobs, hair length, clothes designs, shoes, nails and makeup should have a gender. But sadly, it does. And as J.K. Rowling says, women have lived in a reality where men were always more prioritized. Women were raped and shamed by men. And what I also would like to point out is that IT IS NONE OF THE TRANSGENDER PEOPLE FAULTS. People really should stop blaming transgender people for what men have done. But I think you noticed how I used “men.” And it is so and so complicated when gender should matter and shouldn’t. Because in the USA, at this year's women's health conference there wasn't a single woman, and it mattered. For all our history, women were discriminated against, and it matters. What also matters is that it doesn’t always have to be like this. How? I have no clue.

The only thing I saw that was weird was when she wrote, “I respect every trans person's right to live any way that feels authentic and comfortable to them. I'd march with you if you were discriminated against on the basis of being trans.” Which is, like, duh. People are discriminated against for being transgender. They are being killed for it. Where were you?? I also don’t really see how her life being shaped by being a female is discrimination towards transgender people because that’s true. For many people, their gender is a part of their identity because sex does matter. What also matters is that we can change it. And I think the first and most important step is being respectful towards each other no matter what.

I am really grateful if you have read this. I want to point out again that I didn’t mean to harm anyone or to be hateful towards J.K. Rowling and either "support" her. I also never intended to harm any transgender people or discriminate them. I really don't understand a lot of things but that's already my problem. I hope to hear what you think in the comments ♡

[s-lorelei]

trans women and "real women"???? stop pretending you give a shit about trans women, all women are "real women", centering trans ppl is not taking away from women's rights, grow the fuck up

Incorrect. Women menstruate (which is the shedding of the uterine lining, if you didn't know, and all of that pain I, as a woman, feel comes as a result of my uterus bleeding). Taking estrogen and saying that you are PMSing without having any other menstrual symptoms is rude to the true women who bleed and cramp and are actually miserable during their periods each month, even if you think you're helping by trying to understand and share their pain.

This is not to diminish the fact that trans women are absolutely discriminated against by women and men alike, but we shouldn't pretend that they have the same problems (hormonal or otherwise) as I, a woman by birth, do. Hormone treatments can never equal the real thing.

[krsnaradhika]

can I ask about what the drama around "palace of illusions" is about and why it's bad?

Hey! Sure thing. Lemme list my problems with the book :-

1) The author presents Karna as some tragic hero compelled to be in the company of Duryodhana who clearly committed multiple murder attempts, went on to sexually harrass his sister-in-law and troubled another woman during the Ghosha yatra. Karna was NOT an outcaste. He was a Suta— meaning one with a Brahmin mother and a Kshatriya father. Adhiratha, Karna's adoptive father, was a wealthy man as he was Bhishma's charioteer. Keep in mind that charioteers used to play important roles in warriors' lives - as advisers, close friends and well-wishers. Krishna was the charioteer of Arjuna. Karna had all the opportunities the Pandavas didnt. He had parents who loved him, while the Pandavas were left halfly orphaned with the death of Pandu and Madri. Veda Vyasa describes Karna as "the trunk of the tree of adharma".

2) The Karna Draupadi ship is bullshit because Karna called the latter a whore during the disrobing sequence as well as presented the idea of "there should be no clothes on servants." Yes, Karna was the one who suggested her public sexual assault. She had blood stains on her garment and was dragged into the court of nefarious men by her hair. People who blame her for the assault inflicted on her are sick and need serious psychological help. You cannot defend attempted rape as one with working braincells.

3) So, shipping a victim with her abuser is not fun y'all. This is not some mentally unstable wattpad dark romance. It's itihāsa. The true history of Bhāratavarsha. Let's draw the line. She was an ekavastraa (meaning a woman in a single cloth, as she was menstruating) during the attempt at disrobing, and the man who called for it shouldn't be hailed. Karna also lied to Parashurama of his caste due to which he got cursed, had an unhealthy obsession with Arjuna and because he wanted to kill him for competition, Drona did not provide him with the knowledge of celestial weapons.

4) It is an ignominy against Lady Draupadi to ship her with anyone apart from her husbands because clearly, the Mahabharata says that she's Indra's wife Shachi while the Pandavas are the cursed five Indras of different kalpas. It is . . . not nice to ship one's wife with another man. It is creepy. Draupadi is one of the panchakanya, one of the five pious women whose names if chanted with sincerity wash off one's sins. She expresses her pride over her husbands multiple times in the text because all of them cherish her to no end. Yudhishthira does not hesitate on the fact that Draupadi is the five brothers' fortune, calls her ‘Kalyani’. Bhima kills Keechaka for her, threatening the revealing of their identities. Arjuna becomes Brihannala and spends most of the time near her during the incognito. In the book, however, the Pandavas do not give a damn about her. Yikes.

5) The book says that Draupadi faced prejudice because of her dark skin. I call bullshit again because Madreya Nakula, Partha Arjuna, Krishnatmika Devi Rukmini according to the Harivamsha, Devi Shri Jambavati (who is said to have a blue lotus like complexion), and lastly Shri Rama and Shri Krishna themselves are dark according to our scriptures. And, none of them faced discrimination because of it. Kanha is in fact called "Bhuvansundar" - the most beautiful one on the earth while Draupadi herself is hailed as one of the most beautiful women canonically.

6) Draupadi was never attracted to Karna. Neither did she pine for him, as the author portrays. Sheesh. Please please, we do whatever with human characters. But with divine ones, you have to be careful with the message you get across. This book is saying that ancient india was casteist and colorist, literally the times when the son of a fisherwoman, Veda Vyasa became a Brahmin and the said fisherwoman went on to become a queen mother of one of the most influential dynasties back then. Krishna was raised a cowherd, though a prince. He went on to become the most erudite diplomat and established Dvaraka, which was en engineering marvel as it was constructed on reclaimed land.

7) According to the author . . . Draupadi felt something more than just friendship for Krishna too. Heavens, I can't do this. Let's normalise a man and a woman being just friends now, shall we? Krishna is Mahavishnu, he's not supposed to invoke romantic feelings in Draupadi who is Shachi, Indra's wife. Indra and Upendra (Vishnu) are brothers, since Vāmanadeva was born of Mata Aditi's womb, who is Indra's mother and of all the Adityas' too.

[imustbenuts]

nuts reading in jp 11 - wrap up for vol 2 + i can talk about TriStamp undertaker wolfwood a little!!! whooo!!!

its been hella weird to read trigun in japanese since my first read was in english. i think i dug out a few extra stuff i didnt know existed in the work during this little journey. (thank you for joining in on my rambles!)

no real translation word related stuff today. mostly culture stuff dump.

but man i was right on the money when i said vash was stressed in #10. i forget he actually falls unconscious after dominique quits the narrative. yay~

me after i finish these posts at 5am every time

and then, him.

🥺✨✨raidei the blade. ✨✨ 🥺

listen. this guy. this fucking guy is, personally, the funniest guy in the entirety of trigun. for that line above in the 98 anime, and also for some stuff he represents. ...and it's not for larping reasons. ill get into that another day, please look forward to it. (i say this knowing his backstory was rough.)

anyway its time.... for Wolfwood's 'job change'.

in the manga he introduces himself as a tradesman Priest. it doesnt make much sense to outsiders but despite people getting confused, it mostly gets hand waved off as the guy being a little eccentric. and also prideful.

we then get more information about that being a cover for him being one of the Gung Ho Guns, Chapel. he can fight, hes an assassin, his job is to somehow get at Vash while being technically employed by Knives.

this wolfwood has absolutely no struggle with himself as a Priest specifically. heck, its even giving him some confidence bc he actually knows his stuff and can get by with those priestly things alone. at least, i assume so, bc otherwise the pride thing would be very misplaced as he is revealed that he really wants out of the insane GHG business, and wants nothing to do with his coworkers, as it were.

but TriStamp Wolfwood is... different in that pride regard

this version of wolfwood introduces himself as an Undertaker. he's technically a Priest, but he clearly lacks so much pride that he chooses to be an Undertaker.

the narrative tracks since he's the guide to send Vash to hell in tristamp, but theres at least 1 more layer to this.

so, Shinto! Shinto has played a very big part in Japanese culture and history since idk the beginning of Japanese history, affecting society and culture and governance.

key thing for this post: Shinto has a concept named Kegare/Defilement, which you can think of as an accumulation of evil energy. bad energy. bad enough to attract misfortune, evil spirits, and evil evil evil bad bad bad. (ive actually written about this in video game context before if you wanna read it here)

Kegare is generated upon death, blood, menstruation, and all that. in some modern media, Kegare can also be depicted to be generated by an accumulation of negative emotions from people. but for the longest time, it was mainly Death. (oh and somewhat also women with the whole uh.... you know, menstruation, childbirth, and stillbirths etc.)

but: Kegare is NOT sin, and should not be seen as such.

old japan governance also used Caste System. so combine that with shinto, and society and here's the not fun stuff: we now have a discriminated class of people who did all of society's very necessary but deemed dirty jobs. these are the Butchers, Leatherworkers, Executioners, and Undertakers. (which is wild. a society would not be able to function without them.)

they are shunned, deemed too dirty, too tainted, too polluted to ever have a hope of having a better life. since social mobility wasnt a thing with Caste System in some eras. and coming too close to them means pollution on the self too.

the Caste System got abolished, and today the descendants are called Burakumin 部落民. they are still being discriminated against to this day. the remnants of the dirtiness with certain jobs still remain, especially with jobs that involves the dead. its also possible to know who is a descendant of one through family names, which can be used to trace family registry and sus out old residences etc.

feel free to watch the above video for a clearer explanation by a japanese man instead of just taking my word for it >_>

back to wolfwood.

studio orange making him go from Priest to Undertaker is likely rooted in a logic associated with this. that TriStamp wolfwood lacks the confidence to have a strong identity outside of GHG, whereas manga wolfwood has. that TriStamp wolfwood really does think of himself as trash and worthless even before outsiders' judgement, whereas manga wolfwood's struggle is more about an internal struggle of being lost.

manga wolfwood is also never truly free from his identity as part of the EOM until the very end.

but TriStamp wolfwood gets a full contract saying that hes free from the EOM (i assume!)

i think theres also additional implications but im losing braincells by the minute. the change makes so much sense and tracks so well that apart from the confidence thing, everything is more or less intact.

(worth possibly nothing also, I think TriStamp wolfwood isnt fully checking boxes of uhhh Normality in japanese context. hes dressed in a mess, hes not clean shaven, his skin is kinda dark and not fair, he speaks in non-standard japanese. but ymmv, he will be ok in kansai at least, but not fully fitting in in Capital Tokyo nor ex-Capital Kyoto.)

i also, admittedly, dont know much about the culture surrounding death and undertakers within the states or europe so i cant comment much on that aspect. im aware i must have missed something. on that front, sorry D:

anyway thats all i got for now! thanks for reading this long ass post!

Edit: smooshing a bunch of add ons that are important into this og post, originally here

#OOOOOOOOO#Tbh I've always wondered about the Japanese context#Because it's more straightforward here in the US I feel like#Also I love love love where this put Stampede Wolfwood#Because they DID say that Wolfwood is still finding his footing#His shirt is grey because he isn't settled in who he is yet#So I'm curious where they're gonna go#Anyway thank you for the wonderful meta as always#Trigun Meta#Trigun -@revenantghost

thank u for the tags once again! and for putting this on my dash bc i just remembered something as i looked through this post with fresh eyes again.

it might be important for a potential future plot point in Stampede. it's about water and some parallels with a potential baptism. (though there is 0 guarantee this addendum will happen, im going into wild speculation territory here)

there is technically 2 ways to purify Kegare. Harae and Misogi

Harae is performed by a shinto priest/ress with shinto rituals on a target to exorcise/purify them. this is external, and involves ritual tools. or even a dance or song.

Misogi can be performed by the self. this involves basically washing oneself in cold ass clean water. it can be in a moving water or still, so long as its clean. shinto priests usually do this before they perform a ritual themselves.

visitors to shinto shrines are expected to do the same at the water spots for their hands and mouth. this act is called temizuya but the concept is still the same

so uh

remember ep 10-12 where its shown that vash going into the Pool puts him in total disadvantage and was a whole thing that wolfwood stood outside for? and that there was at least a few post calling this Pool a baptism bit?

;)

yep. im thinking of wolfwood a potential shinto priest on top of the catholic variety. im gonna bet my 1 monster energy drink this pool trap will happen again and wolfwoof is gonna go swimming for a bit of his own free will, if this plot point comes up again ever

[frameacloud]

Intersex Inclusive Language, a booklet by versegm

Content: Rated PG. About discrimination against intersex people. Mention of menstruation. Nothing explicit.

Medium: Booklet. An illustrated zine in full color.

Genre: Nonfiction.

About: As described by the author, Versegm, "An 8 pages long guide on intersex inclusive language, for people who want to support intersex folks. Made for An Intersex Jam."

Vibe: Friendly, patient, and simple to understand.

To feature this creation by Versegm, I include it in my itch.io collections of LGBTQIA creations that are books, nonfiction, rated PG, and about intersex people. These collections are part of my project, Curated Collections About LGBTQIA. I'm doing this series of Tumblr posts reviewing and featuring other people's creations with links to where you can see them on itch.io to celebrate and draw attention to the cool stuff that folks make.

[qland]

15 Day BL Challenge (The Threequel) - Day 44

Well that escalated quickly. What dramatic scene really stuck with you?

You’re Lin, You’re Not Win (Cupid’s Last Wish)

If you ever learn anything about me, it’s that I really love series that are about gender. Cupid’s Last Wish, when it originally aired promised to be a body swap road trip romance with a slice of the supernatural, but what it really ended up becoming was so much more than that, and I think it was this scene in episode 6 that really solidified the series’s potential for me.

Throughout the entire show, Win has to deal with the consequences of his reckless actions by not only being responsible for saving the life of his younger sister, but we also has to live her life.

Initially Win has little to no issue with this—just live life as he always had—but he very quickly realizes just how hard it is for his sister to exist as a woman in Thailand. From discrimination to the physical pain that goes from menstruation, Win has to experience that all firsthand—all while being constantly perceived as a woman, and called a name that isn’t his.

Worst of all, as his feelings for Korn deepen, Win is presented with a problem. Does Korn love HIM or Lin? Could Korn ever love him as a man? Is he even a man anymore? What does being perceived as a woman do to his identity? How does his gender evolve?

This scene in episode 6 is Win’s ultimate break, as the insecurities that arise from both his relationship to Korn and his mourning of his sister, is representative of all of these questions.

The scene starts as Win looks into the mirror and sees Lin staring back at him. His thoughts come rising to the surface as he chants, You’re Lin, You’re not Win.

You’re her. Not him. “You” no longer exist.

And so he breaks, and runs into the nearby ocean and just loses it, crying “You idiot! You idiot” and it’s heartbreaking.

As a scene, it’s representative of everything that makes Cupid’s Last Wish so great, and I think is one of the best executed examples of gender dysphoria I’ve ever seen.

Leave it to Thailand to create the most incredible trans-adjacent fairytales!!

[butchpeace]

I know you're trying to help, but colleges have high rape statistics, and women can't even trust other women to not be pickmes and use them to attract males, or even set them up to be raped. Even their own mothers. Some women pimp other women and children out to rapists. All I see on this website is doomerfems saying we will never see female liberation within our lifetime, much less the next five years. So let the fake ftms transition, because it's really not any worse than what we live through. I'd say our existence is equally bad because we're both females, but we're trading possible male privilege for better health in a world where our health isn't taken seriously anyway, where we suffer and die and are ignored when we're in pain anyway. And they're trading slightly worse health for occasional male privilege, which includes better healthcare, despite the transing their health and lives are still probably better and more free than ours. We suffer because of birth control, barely understood menstruation, rapist gynos, rapist doctors, a host of female health conditions, constantly being talked over or ignored, and the rage of rape ape moids. We can't even go places alone without being killed or raped. We're not free. If I were okay with looking like an ugly moid I would transition too. The only reason I suffer is for my good looks as a female and not scare off my girlfriend, otherwise I would trans myself and have major dysphoria about looking like a hideous masculine woman and my girlfriend would understandably leave me. So we just hide in our home and live in fear. If a woman can escape that, let her.

The problem with this take is that female transitioners have significantly worse health outcomes than women who don’t transition. Because our bodies are still female, and doctors don’t know anything about female health, we’re subject to all the same issues, plus the ones we get from being on testosterone, binding, and surgeries.

Masculinized women often face additional obstacles to receiving competent reproductive healthcare due to being medically altered and androgynous. Healthcare discrimination is real. The unknowns of testosterone’s effects on other aspects of our health also lead to less competent care in every other medical field too. The “doctors” in trans clinics (more often RNs) are truly incompetent in every way.

I can’t understate how dangerous it is to willingly put yourself in that precarious situation. It kills people.

TIFs also suffer high rates of sexual assault and abuse, especially if they date men. Even when they’re lucky enough to “pass”, they are still female and are still treated as such by partners. They are still on average smaller and weaker than men. I’ve personally heard stories of TIFs being assaulted by doctors too, including by doctors in the trans industry. “Male privilege” is only granted in some situations and under the requirement that no one finds out she’s a woman.

To top it all off, you suffer from the inescapable psychological trauma that’s inherent to medical transition, and the mental illness inherent to trying to hide your biological sex.

The bottom line is that you don’t escape sex-based oppression by identifying out of your sex. You just take on a whole new set of problems in addition to the ones you already have.