#BLACK SA

[feelingemotjons]

a black trans women is in need of help

@miracleon63rdstreet is a black trans women who has gone through absolute hell and back. She is currently in a lot of debt and she and her cousin don’t have enough money to feed her cats and her cousin’s kids. She is living with her cousin and her cousin’s electricity bill is due on the 10th

if anyone could give her money on her cashapp, venmo, paypal, chime, or gofundme it would be greatly appreciated

[courfee]

look at them. they're in love.

[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.” 

[woodlandkisses]

Anna Karina breaking the fourth wall

[dazedasian]

DON'T STOP TALKNG ABOUT CONGO

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Zoya | Let’s Talk Women of Color | Self Love & Social Justice (@lets.talkwoc)

**It’s a privilege** to look forward to the launch of the new iPhone 16, while people in the DRC face modern-day slavery, mistreatment, and abuse as they mine the very minerals that power our cherished phones. Zoya Reebye, founder of Let’s Talk WOC, sheds light on the unimaginable hardships women in the Democratic Republic of the Congo endure in the mines. From being underpaid to facing a rising rate of sexual assault, these women live through a humanitarian crisis the world must not ignore. Even as teenagers, **we can make an impact** by amplifying the voices of those working in the DRC, raising awareness, and holding companies accountable for their actions. 1. **Raise awareness** about the situation in the DRC. The more people know, the more pressure we can put on those responsible. 2. **Be mindful** of your consumer choices. 3. **Do your research.** Investigate the supply chains of companies you buy from, choose refurbished or secondhand electronics, and recycle your devices responsibly. Let’s strive for a world where our technology is not built on exploitation.

[inthedarktrees]

Anna Karina in Vivre sa vie (1962) dir. Jean-Luc Godard

[userhalsey]

series appreciation • 20 series: [4] orphan black

We do what we can, each of us, in our own way. And we do it for each other. Chipping at the devil till he’s done.

[suguruslut]

Still think it's super fucked up that all the sexual assault scenes againat males in the DC universe (Nightwing, Green Arrow, etc.) are completely normalized in the comics. Like, imagine what kind of message that sent to young male readers (and even adult aged male readers) when they saw and continue to see male victims being blamed for their own assaults, writers shrugging off the assault/writing it as no big deal, the assailant getting away scotch free, never even being dubbed an assaulter because they're a woman. The male characters are never seen as victims, never asked if they're okay after being SA.

Idk, just something that always bothered me. Kinda sad even the modern comic writers never point it out or try to correct it...

[draculora]

i don’t wanna talk too much about the kendrick vs. drake beef on here bc i’m not black and i don’t have anything to say about it that black rap listeners haven’t already said with way more context but i will say this as a victim of SA after listening to the heart pt. 6 which was just really cheap and gross

kendrick is using his influence to bring MASSIVE AMOUNTS of attention to something that women have been saying about drake for a LONG time but drake never had to address bc it didn’t come from anybody who “mattered” (in drake’s eyes) and also it wasn’t said to him DIRECTLY in a format in which he was expected to respond, and quickly. he was never going to address it!

and i think kendrick doing this falls directly in line with the type of topics he’s always covered in his albums, specifically mr. morale was about breaking the cycle of generational trauma (physical and sexual abuse specifically) and ALSO kendrick has ALWAYS called HIMSELF out in his music for the way he has contributed to these cycles and reflected on WHY and how to change moving forward

i think people are wanting kendrick to be free of any controversy in order to go after drake and my thing is if we keep waiting for the Perfect Person who has Done No Wrong to take drake down, it is never going to happen! it doesn’t surprise me at all that it took another MAN bringing it up for drake to deign to say anything at all, even if the route he took was deny, deny, deny. a black tiktok creator who has been posting about all of this (angelfromthebloc) said “we don’t need the perfect shooter. the shots were fired and what matters is what the bullets said” and that makes a lot of sense to me

[emtrobarasalaplatja3]

[blackkatdraws2]

These days are a bit boring and slow~ [Blank Scripts AU]

Mano or pagmamano is similar to hand-kissing. It's performed by a person giving the greeting by bowing down toward the person or the elder or taking his hand or her hand and pressing it on the forehead.

[plumbageas]

ㅤㅤ 🌷 𓈒 ◌ 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚏͟𝚎͟𝚖͟𝚖͟𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ✧ ׅ⠀⠀ ♪ 🪽 ֺ⠀⠀ ࣭⠀ ﾟ🎐

[moonstruckme]

hi! i was wondering if you could make some more bartender!sirius x reader stories! anything works really! i love love love your writing 💞

Thanks for requesting ml!

cw: attempted sa, police are called (but don't worry, everything is fine)

bartender!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius isn’t ashamed to say he’s had his eye on you tonight. You’re a sweet-looking thing, with sparkly eyes and a big, genuine smile that you’d beamed right at him as you ordered your drink. You got your first couple from Marlene, but most recently you came up to him. You’d leaned your elbows on the bar, looked at him with those lovely eyes, and said all the pleases and thank yous and may Is that always make Sirius want to climb over the counter and hug the customers who use them. He'd have comped your drink if you weren’t clearly here with someone else. 

And that someone else seems to be infatuated with you. Appropriately so, Sirius thinks. He takes your hand to lead you over to a couch along the wall, and he nods so eagerly while you speak that it looks like his head is on a spring, and when you turn to look at something he’s pointed out he reaches over and—

“Hey!” 

Several heads turn at Sirius’ shout, but the important part is that yours does. Not before your lips close around the straw of your drink, though. Sirius doesn’t have to work to convey urgency in his expression—that comes quite naturally. He waves his hand to beckon you back to the bar.

You obey, not looking upset but rather tentative as you make your way through the crowd. Your date stands with you, but something in Sirius’ face must tip him off. He disappears towards the exit. Sirius wants to go after him and strangle the bloke with his own two hands, but he’ll have to worry about that later. 

“Don’t drink that,” he says once he thinks you’re within earshot. 

You’re not, evidently. “What?” 

“Give it here.” Sirius leans across the bar, reaching for your drink. It’s only the caution in your expression that reminds him to say, “Please.” 

You hand it over, eyebrows raising when he brings it behind the bar and immediately pours it into the sink. 

“Erm…am I going to be refunded for that?” 

Sirius shakes his head, but managing a breathless, frazzled, “Yeah.” 

He feels so far out of his depth. Nothing like this has ever happened during one of his shifts—at least, fuck, not that he knows of. Sirius isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. 

He starts by looking you in the eyes. “The bloke you were with put something in your drink.” 

Your lips part, brows twitching together. “What? No, he…” You turn your head, clearly expecting your date to be right behind you. Sirius watches your face change as you realize he’s nowhere to be seen. 

When you turn back to him, he can see the beginnings of fear in your gaze. His hand makes its way across the bar of its own accord, squeezing your wrist before tugging you gently towards the nearest barstool. 

“I saw it happen,” he says firmly. “Do you want to sit here with me for a bit?” 

“I don’t…yeah, please.” You look dazed. Understandably dazed, in Sirius’ opinion. You slide onto the stool and slouch to rest your elbows on the bar. “I don’t feel any different. I only had a sip.” 

“It might not be enough to do anything,” he agrees. “I’m not sure, honestly. But it’s probably a good idea for you not to be alone just in case, yeah?” 

You nod hesitantly. Sirius strokes a short line into the inside of your wrist, and when you look up at him those pretty eyes are wet. 

“I’m already drunk,” you say, quietly, your voice on the edge of breaking. “How am I s’posed to know if it’s working?” 

“I’m sure you’d know,” says Sirius, though honestly he’s not very sure of that himself. Guys don’t learn much about these things, not the way girls have to. “You’re alright, darling. We’ll take care of you up here, you’re totally safe. Do you mind if I phone the police?” 

Your eyes widen to glossy saucers, the true gravity of your situation seeming to sink in. 

“It’s just standard procedure,” he adds quickly. 

“Right.” You blink, sniffling. “Um, sure.” 

“Beautiful.” Sirius shoots you a smile. “Be right back. Marl,” he gets his coworker’s attention, “keep an eye on her, yeah?” 

Marlene looks confused and then intrigued as she spots you weeping at the other end of the bar, but she makes her way to you. 

Sirius’ call with the police is brief. They make him regret tossing out your drink before it could be tested, but they tell him to keep you at the bar and they’ll be there soon to question you. When he goes back inside, you look far better than he’d left you, face tearstained but dry and nursing what looks to be a plain coke topped by a mountain of cherries. 

“Blimey, did you ask for extra?” Sirius asks, taking his place in front of you. Marlene, helping a customer at the other end of the bar, shoots him a grimace that lets him know you’ve told her what happened. 

“I asked for a few,” you say, picking one of your cherries up by the stem and popping it in your mouth. “I think she feels bad for me.” 

Sirius laughs. “No, Marlene doesn’t feel bad for anyone. She probably just likes you.” 

“Really?”

“Yup. Almost as much as she hates our manager.” He winks at you. “Her latest plot is to rob him blind by way of bar napkins and maraschino cherries. But you didn’t hear that from me.” 

Your lips twitch into something dangerously close to a smile. You draw a line across them, pretending to zip them shut. 

“So,” you say, looking down to fish another cherry from your glass, “did you give the police my regards?”

Sirius smiles at your forehead. “I did. They said it’s been far too long, and they’d like to come here to chat with you themselves.” 

You huff a laugh. “That’s funny, you’d think they’d’ve gotten their fill of me when I was in the nick last week.” 

Sirius laughs, delighted. 

You look up with a wry smile. “Kidding,” you whisper. 

“Oh, I’m so disappointed.” He props his chin on his hand, letting his head loll to the side. “And here I was thinking you were a rebel outside the law.” 

You shrug, smile fading as the melancholy turn your night has taken seems to take you under again. “Sorry to lead you astray,” you say anyway. 

“No, don’t worry about it.” Sirius studies you. You look understandably worried, a tad wistful too, but still that same sweet girl who’d come up to order from him at the bar. “If you are concerned about the cops catching onto your jailbird alter-ego, I could always stay with you when they get here. If you want company.” 

Your expression melts into gratitude, the fretful line of your brow softening and your eyes filling with relief. They start to go shiny again. “That would be great,” you say. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t worry about it, doll.” Sirius reaches across the bar, giving your hand an awkward pat. “Just don’t cry again, please? It kills me a little bit.”

[bishonenvoicedbyadyke]

extracts from the vampire armand, Anne Rice, 1998

[brownwomanisland]

I want to know who else is out there has an issue with speaking up?

When I was 12, I told a friend who I knew would tell my parents that my brother was molesting me. When we finally met, I realized that they spoke to him first and he was their golden child and whatever he said, I echoed because I was terrified. My mother is still a boy mom and my dad is a fucking loser.

When I was 14, I told a teacher. They told my mom. My mom told her friend who decided to ask me, what i didn't realize at the time, leading questions about me being gay (open secret). He decided that my lesbian experience was what I was talking about and not the escalating molestation from my brother.

My father blamed me for who I told, said it was my crush on the teacher. My mother called me a liar for months. Would shout at me in the hallway at home. Would wake me up at night to talk to me about myself, threatening to beat me. That went on for months until I stayed with my uncle briefly. It didn't improve when I came back home. Nobody did anything to protect me. They ripped up my police report. Stopped my psychologist visits. Pressured me to talk to my brother.

I was already cutting myself to deal with the fact that this was happening and nobody took my anger at my brother seriously. This boy used me as his own personal sex toy for years and ... started again or tried to start again when I was home from university. I don't know. Everybody I'm blood related to is a fucking poison in this world. Who's not a menace is a fucking coward.

There's so much to say and even though none of you know me, I still feel terrified that speaking up in anyway will ruin my life. I always wrote in my journal. I found out after my mother put me out that she went through it, deemed it all lies. I only started back writing comfortably in 2021 ish.

I wish I lived a different life almost everyday because I have to live every year seeing all my dreams be deferred. Sometimes I wish I did kill myself so I wouldn't have to deal with knowing that what I dream of may never come.

So yeah I panicked and deleted that other post because one of you assholes said I let my father treat me that way. But also, it is so so so so difficult to speak up. I live alone now and I have to practice EVERYTHING with EVERYONE so that I make sure I am safe. I work very hard to make sure every step I take will hopefully bring me closer to the life I deserve.

Don't let being online and being angry make you treat your sisters like trash. We're all fucking going through it. Our traumas probably look like intersecting venn diagrams.

[hamoodmood]