#➳ sa mention

[saevissimus]

INDEPENDENT && SELECTIVE RAMSAY SNOW BOLTON from the ASOIAF series. show based, book adaptable. penned by sophie. mun is 25, this blog will be rated DD:DNE and may contain graphic content in line with canon. minors dni. exclusive with willow's theon && myranda | @theirxnprice @hounddaughter not interested in ramsay? i may be following you for my sideblog, @lxttledove, my sansa (currently a work in progress, sit tight!), or my dragon muse sideblog @zaldrizeshub ➳ navigation for mobile users: [ ABOUT | RULES | VERSES | RELATIONS ] x

[drunkwithmouthwash]

Did you notice Jim went quiet for a second when Daisuke said that? Motherfucker saw his life flash before his eyes.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Sometimes I do wonder if men actually get sexually assaulted and abused at a similar rate that women do but a lot of them just don’t know that’s what’s happening to them

[cupcakeslushie]

Recovering your autonomy vs Completely cutting yourself off from your support system. FIGHT!

This happens sometime after the ongoing Kendra reunion comic, but not far enough along that the brothers have figured out how to navigate certain landmines.

Donnie is still re-adjusting to communicating his needs in a confident manner. Sometimes he gets a little too worked up, and lets the panic take over. He regrets the yelling later.

…The next morning

[usercelestial]

"omg he would never" "no he's a good guy though" "why haven't these women come forward before" "well she's known for being a liar so" "yeah but have you seen the things she used to tweet"

∆ trans women are women, trans men are men, and if you are transphobic, you are not a feminist, this post is not about "Male Violence" or how men are "inherently violent" this post is about people who do not truly have feminist beliefs and people who will do anything to protect cis white men from criticism while attacking any woman who comes out against him. at the core of this instinct is the automatic disgust + hatred people have towards women, even other women themselves. your favorite man is not protected from being a perpetrator of violence against women, your least favorite woman does not deserve said violence ∆

[a-heart-of-kyber]

*slaps table*

Listen!

There is something super sweet and healing and hopeful about Gale, "I was groomed and still don't realize it and had 'sex' with the Goddess of Magic via mental/spiritual/astral projection regularly. Also, I'm kind of addicted to magic." Deciding to approach you first to flirt with "You being all sweaty after battle is so fucking hot."

Because it's Real. It's physical. Yeah, it's horny, but it's the realization that the mortal realm can be equal to the godly one, if not superior, despite it being different. Like, he's not Losing something by not being with a God and he can heal.

[anendtopursuit]

not to gush too much abt neil newbon's performance as astarion (and stephen rooney's writing for him) but like. he's discussed on streams before how conscious the decision to make him feel like he's constantly performing is (regardless of outcome; theatrical spawn astarion & operatic ascended astarion), and how stephen rooney leaned more into the whimsy and fun of the character based on things he saw in his portrayal (hence astarion progressively getting funnier and more charismatic through game development). but the thing that drives me absolutely mad tbh is the moments where all of it drops and he's suddenly so sincere, because it hits you like a truck to the face.

his voice going all soft and quiet and brittle when he describes cazador instructing his spawn to torture themselves. his mannerisms shifting from seductive and playful to a little more nervous. but the one that always gets me is in the graveyard romance scene, talking about what cazador has taken from him, how it was taken by force; "but he did take it," in this voice that's so full of sorrow that it almost sounds hollow, muffled by none of his usual pomp and theatricality, when even in cazador's palace his admissions of upset were sandwiched between attempts to brush it all off. dear god.

[wolfertinger666]

fuck it, my black trans guy experience has been:

other trans people(especially fellow trans men) invalidating my identity because I don't conform to gender norms or whatever bullshit cope they can think of

being fetishized constantly cuz I present fem. even in conversations that aren't even sex related. been told I'm "an easy cheat for straight people" or a heavy fixation on my breast

seeing queers who are white benefit from including black queers in their talking points but in some ways excluding us or tokenizing us.

oh yeah and the extreme transphobes misgendering me and threatening me with corrective SA

but I've also had positive experiences such as inspiring other trans and even cis folks to stay true to themselves and basically express themselves however they want. i like being myself but it sure is scary sometimes.

[fellshish]

it is what it is and there are more important things at play here. i can live with the one 90 minute episode ending if it means more women are safe. if it means it’s not a complete cancellation. i’ll take it

[syrisun]

the parallels between jimmy’s abuse of curly and anya don’t stop at curly being unable to move/protest. the entire crew believing he was the one who attempted the crash and him being unable to speak and defend himself reminds me of how starting out in jimmy’s pov we at first perceive Anya as incompetent at her job because she’s unable to speak out about her assault and pregnancy & we and the crew are left to make assumptions . I just think it’s very potent that we see curly lose his social power to mirror her. no one will believe you, and you can’t even try, etc etc.

[abyssal-ilk]

playing as a tabris warden and especially playing as a fem tabris warden is just a constant over and over gut punch. you're getting married but then you, your cousin, and several other women from your alienage are kidnapped during your wedding by the arl's son. you slaughter your way out of it to save your cousin and the other women, but there isn't a victory in it— you know there will be retribution for killing a palace full of guards and several nobles even though you were defending yourself and your kin. you're forced to leave your home and join the grey wardens without being given even a single night to recover. you know there will be a purge. you don't know if you'll ever see your family again.

you're taken to ostagar where you are the only woman amongst the grey wardens, and not only that, you are the only elf among them. you remember nessa, the girl in your alienage who was afraid of leaving because she feared what the soldiers would do to her after going so long without seeing a woman. your status as an elf and a woman are constantly remarked upon. you have no choice but to stay. you are fed darkspawn blood by duncan; the blood kills one man while he slaughters the other in front of you. you are supposed to feel grateful to have survived this.

and even later when you seek help from the dalish, what do you learn from zathrian? the same injustices that were inflicted upon you have been repeated over and over for centuries. what do you learn when you seek help from the mages? templars lurk in every corner, always watching, driving mages to the same violence you yourself committed. what do you learn in orzammar? to be a castless woman is to be not considered a person, who's only worth is the children she can bear for the same nobles who keep the castless subjugated. to be chosen by a noble is supposed to be an honor. why does this feel familiar?

AND THEN. what do you learn from the deep roads? darkspawn in all of their corruption are no different; you learn of the broodmothers. it is the same everywhere, no matter where you look. nothing changes. even your other party members, leliana and zevran, have their own stories. and you don't have another choice but to keep pushing on.

[shamebats]

I'm listening to an episode of the Cults to Conciousness podcast about gay erasure in Amish & Mennonite communities and one interesting thing one of the guests (a bi woman) brought up is that sometimes conversion therapy doesn't look like overt violence and attempts of sexuality conversion (although it does happen), because especially queer people in the social role of girl/woman in such communities will often simply not have their queerness acknowledged at all. The conversion therapy for this guest was when her father walked behind her and corrected her so she'd walk like a "proper lady", it was corrective rape and it was forced marriage, something she just barely escaped. Sometimes the conversion therapy is covert, like your community pushing you into marriage and having children so you'll be too busy to think about your sexuality, gender, freedom and self-actualization. It's not what we think of when we hear the term conversion therapy, but it's still violent, oppressive and has the same end goal.

One of the things that deeply hurt her was when a sociologist, an outsider, wrote about her community and declared that there were "no gay people" because there were not allowed to be any. It made her feel so unseen and even more like she shouldn't exist.

I can definitely see the parallels between that and how trans people have been treated historically and how trans stories are still often erased.

To believe that there are/were no LGBTQIA+ people in certain communities and time periods is to believe that conversion therapy, in any of its forms, works (which it does not).

[willgrahamscock]

“we need more male sa victim representation” you couldn’t even handle baby reindeer

[rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world]

The number of confirmed Palestinian political prisoners has exceeded 10,000 from the West Bank and AlQuds, thousands from Gaza, and hundreds from within the lands occupied in 1948. Conditions in Zionist prisons have always been dire and have gotten significantly worse since October 2033.

Among these prisoners, over 300 are women from the occupied West Bank, while the number of women from Gaza abducted by Zionist forces remains unconfirmed.

Many women endure deliberate medical negligence, denial of communication with family and lawyers, unsanitary conditions, and severe violence. This includes psychological torture with solitary confinement, overcrowded cells filled with insects and dirt, and a lack of natural light. Prisoners are subjected to beatings, insults, threats, and sexual harassment and abuse. Strip searches are common, often used as methods of punishment and humiliation.

Despite continuous threats from the Zionist forces against freed prisoners and their families, these Palestinian women, among countless others named and unnamed, have shown immense courage and steadfastness in their choice to share the torture they have endured.

We demand the freedom of all Palestinian political prisoners. FREE THEM ALL!

[teem-boo]

Too busy looking at the bigger picture.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I keep rereading the overprotective poly marauders fic I love it sm 🫶 can I please request another one it can tie into casual dominance marauders if you want I don’t mind I just can’t get them off my mind. Thanks babe!!

Hi lovely!! So this went a bit off the rails, I had different intentions for it at first but then somehow it became very serious and the boys not so much overprotective as reasonably upset....all in all, I'm not super happy with it but I didn't want to throw it out, I'd be happy to write another overprotective one for you if you'd like!

cw: sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You walk out of your office feeling odd and off-kilter. Your mind seems addled, unable to complete one thought before jumping to the next, and something prickles just underneath your skin that feels like anger and shame and also like panic. 

Your boyfriends are waiting for you, idling at the curb. You’re supposed to go straight from here to the cinema, and you tell yourself you’ll feel better afterwards. Even if not, you have until Monday before you have to deal with this, if you deal with it at all. You may not. You’re not sure. You can’t think straight. 

“Hey, angel,” James says as you get in, and it’s immediately obvious your upset has already been noticed. Probably as soon as you walked outside, your boyfriends observing you through the car windows. Remus, in the driver’s seat, and Sirius, sitting beside you in the back, are both charily silent. “How was work?” 

“It was fine,” you reply. Your voice sounds off even to your own ears, but no one comments as Remus puts the car in drive. 

“Ready for the weekend?” James imbues his voice with a light sort of commiseration. You try to smile for him. 

No one is more surprised than you when a sob chokes you instead. You hide your face in your hands, tears already leaking out from between your lashes. 

“God, sorry.” 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sirius asks, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for you.

Remus pulls into a parking spot just by the exit and shuts off the engine, turning around in his seat.

“Baby.” Sirius wraps his arm around your shaking shoulders, squeezing tight. He sounds anxious. “Did something happen?” 

The worst of your crying passes like a summer storm, over as quickly as it started. Your emotions gone haywire. You lean into Sirius, and he clicks the buckle on your seatbelt for you, pulling you the rest of the way. 

“You’re scaring me,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. “Tell us why you’re upset, angel, please.” 

“I think,” you mumble, face and eyes burning, “my boss grabbed my butt.” 

You say it quieter than a whisper, but you know they’ve all heard. The silence that follows is so complete you could hear a pin drop. 

“What?” James asks. His throat sounds dry. 

You hear Remus sigh. “Oh, sweetheart.” The vinyl of his seat squeaks as he shifts. “When did this happen?” 

“Just now,” you answer. 

“Right.” Sirius’ arms had gone tense around you, but now they fall away completely. He moves for his door. “I’ll be back.” 

“Don’t,” you plead. You worry he will anyway, but Remus locks the doors from the front seat. 

Sirius cuts a glare his way, truly scary with the way wrath seems to gleam in his gray irises. He unlocks his door manually, and Remus locks it again. 

“We can’t be rash,” he says, his own tone sharper than you think is intended for anyone in the car. “We have to think this through.” 

“What’s there to think about?” Sirius snaps. James reaches behind his seat, taking your hand and rubbing comfortingly. “He’s just inside!” 

“You think I don’t want to go in there too?” Remus gives him a look that’s a short fall from incredulous. “But if we have to call the police, it won’t help if you’ve already had a go at him.” 

Your head spins. You hadn’t even thought of calling the police. You hadn’t really gotten past going to the cinema. 

“What do you mean, you think he grabbed you, sweetheart?” James' voice is pointedly kinder than the others. Remus takes a deep breath, calming himself. 

“I don’t know. I just—I feel like I can’t be sure—” 

“That’s alright.” Remus' voice is slower now. Soothing. “Why don’t you tell us how it happened?” 

“I, um.” You swallow. James strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I was looking at something on his computer, because he said he wasn’t getting my emails and I thought they might be going to his spam. He was sitting behind me in his chair, and we were talking and his hand, like, squeezed—” you shudder, your brain trying to shake off the memory “—and then he just kept talking like nothing happened. It was so fast I’m not sure it even did—” 

“Baby.” 

You don’t realize you’re tripping over your words until Sirius’ voice cuts through them. You look at him, and his eyes are already on yours, fierce but solid. 

“Did you feel him touch you?” he asks. 

You rub your lips together. “Yeah,” you murmur. 

Your boyfriend’s expression pinches, but his gaze is steady. “Then he did. Trust yourself. You know what happened.” 

This provokes another wave of tears, less tempestuous than the first but somehow more painful. You wouldn't have expected any one of your boyfriends to blame you, not if you’d thought about it, but you haven’t had time to think yet and the relief that they’re so wholly on your side makes your heart feel cracked open. 

“Dove, I’m so sorry,” Remus says. He’s frowning, a well-worn line etched between his brows. You hate to put it there. “What do you want to do? Do you know if you can contact HR?” 

“I don’t know,” you admit, pliable to Sirius’ ministrations as he tucks you securely under one arm and uses the other to thumb at your salty cheeks. “I feel a bit silly. It was a small thing, I don’t think it’s worth a bunch of fuss.” 

“It’s not a small thing,” says James, uncharacteristically severe. “It’s a big thing—a really fucked up thing, that he did—and it’s worth a lot of fuss. A lot.” He leans around his seatback, pressing a firm kiss to your hand. “It’s just a matter of how much fuss you’re willing to go through with, sweetheart. It’s up to you. We can go through HR, we can go to the police. There’s still the option of just going in there and roughing him up to be sure it doesn’t happen again.” He smiles wryly. It looks like it takes effort. “I’m very game for that option. We know Sirius is ready.” 

Sirius makes an affirming humph sound against the side of your head. You try to smile back at James. 

“I think maybe…HR?” Your voice is tentative. “I have a friend, Marcella, who I think would be nice about it.” You realize as it comes out of your mouth what a low bar that is, but that’s the reality of your situation. 

“Do you know if she’s still here?” Remus asks. 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “I think so…” 

Remus unlocks the doors, and James gets out. You barely manage to squeak out a “Wait” before the door shuts behind him. 

You turn to Remus. “Where’s he going?” 

“To find Marcella,” he says. “It’s better that they know when it’s just happened, dovey, but you don’t have to deal with it right now. That’s why James is going instead.” 

You nod. It makes sense, even if the reality of it all makes tears press at your throat again. 

“My sweet girl.” Sirius holds you tight, mashing a kiss into the side of your head. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby. I’m sorry we weren’t there to protect you.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him properly. He seems pleased with this development, and squeezes you ferociously. “You can’t always be with me. And it’s not your responsibility.” 

“Careful what you say.” Sirius seems to muster up some humor, a teasing edge to his tone. “I’ll get us one of those big shirts so the four of us can fit in it together, and then you’ll never be rid of us.” 

“It’s our job to look after you,” says Remus, firm but kind. “It’s true we can’t be with you all of the time, but I’m glad you felt comfortable telling us this. Thank you, sweetheart.” 

You’re about to dismiss his thanks when James gets back in the car, this time in the back seat instead of the front. 

“Did you see him?” Sirius asks immediately, scooching the both of you over to make room. 

“No, he must’ve left right after her.” James looks unhappy, but his touch is gentle as always as he takes your waist in both hands, easing you off of Sirius’ lap and into the seat between them. Sirius sighs but doesn’t complain, likely knowing he’s had more than his fair share of your comfort. 

“Marcella was nice, though,” James says. “She arranged for you to have the morning off on Monday, and she’ll call you then to hear from you what happened. We can be with you, if you like.” 

“Monday.” You blow out a slow breath, though it doesn’t do much to keep your throat from contracting in panic. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you.” 

“No worries, angel.” James rubs your thigh, watching you carefully. “You doing okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” Your voice squeaks, and you cover your eyes with a hand. Sirius whines and kisses your shoulder. You try to laugh, but it comes out wet. “I think this might just keep happening for a while.” 

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Remus coos, reaching out a hand to set on the top of your head. He scratches at your scalp with his fingernails the way he knows you like. “It makes sense to be upset. We’ll get you through this, alright? Let us look after you for a bit.”