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beautifullyscarred423 · 10 months

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Sex Chronicles Part 1

“I can’t stop thinkin about your pussy”. He said. As I listened to him confused.., thinkin to myself “he’s never seen, touched or felt my pussy”. Still, I entertained his thoughts.

“How is it you can’t stop thinkin about pussy you never had?”

He replies..

“The way you talk, and the way you walk, I can tell it’s good “. I laugh..

“So you’re tellin me that you can tell that my pussy .. is Wett ...and juicy as fucck..and will squeeze,..

throb ..

and squirt all over ya dick..,

based on how I talk and the way I walk..?”

“Daam “, he says... “ why you had to say it like that..? You got my dick hard as fucck right now!, that shit right there, is how I know.. Daaam!.. who says shit like that?..”

“Me”. I say. “ you talkin bout my pussy like you know her, or like y’all met before.. so I was just givin you an informal introduction.. that’s all “. “Her name is Ms. Juicy by the way.. so please.. when you address her.. make sure it’s done properly.. please and thank you kind sir “.

“Daaaam”, he says again.. “You are somethin else..” he says in a low groan.

In my mind.. smilin to myself.., I’m thinkin.. this nigga strokin his dick right now..

“Yo, I promise I’d hit every single spot.. why you playyinn tho”

I reply..

“ Behave yourself sir.. calm down.. you still don’t know her yet..or what she likes..or what she wants..”

“Tell me..” he says..”whatever you want.. whatever she wants I’ll do it for both of you!.. why you teasin me..! Daaaam!”

“ Not teasin “.. I replied.. “You.. sir.. was talking about thinkin of My pussy.. My pussy .. that you don’t know.. My pussy.. that you never smelled.. My pussy.. that you never seen.. My pussy.. that you never touched.. My pussy.. that you never felt..

So I’m tryna help you out.. I’m a fucckin lady.. so .. proper introduction, is.. always very necessary..” “You don’t even know if you’re ready for her.. already sooo anxious like Genuine.. imma need you to bring that all the way down Playboy “..

Him.. of course replies..” Whatchu mean...bae I’m fit.. gotchu.. locked and loaded “..

I’m shakin my head.. thinkin.. “these niggas crazy as hell.. but still.. I’ll play tha game “

“Sooo, you want me to finish introducing her to you.. or nah..?”

“Daaaam bae, yess.. please tell me everything I need to know “

I’m feeding off of his energy now.. and his anticipation now.. H.E.R.. Every kind of way.. is playing on my Pandora.. so it helps me to continue assisting his thoughts.

“ Patience is required.. “ I say.. “ Although she has a mind of her own.. of how Wett she gets.. connection.. presence.. and energy.. is all me.. and there’s no Go.... unless I wanna Go.. You understood that..?

“ Yess.. Bae. yess .. “ he says.. “ I understand.. my dick so hard right now.. I don’t think YOU understand..shiiit!”

“Mmmmm..” I reply.. “ Hard Dick.. is definitely a requirement..thank you for cooperating for her “.. she definitely appreciates that part “..

“ A lot of how she performs definitely depends on you.”

“ She’s either a Nun or your favorite porn star..she’ll squeeze you ohh so gently..or take your whole soul...she’ll throb .. squirt.. “. He interrupts.. in a low tone.. almost a whisper.“ Bae.., come on .., just lemme come ova.. or you can even come here..and you can jus show me what to do.. I’ll follow your directions.. prommise “. I ignore what he’s sayin.. I mean he started talking about MY pussy.. so.. I just continue..

“She is capable of giving .. as well as having multiple orgasms.. for the right one..”. “ the deeper the connection.. she gets wetter..and more energized.. hungry for more and more.. I .. will then .. will focus on how in tune.. You are with me.. I.. require eye contact and need to feel.. and know.. how you’re feeling.. what you’re feeling.. and will need you to verbally express... how you’re feeling... how she feels to you.. how .. I feel.. to you.. Silence.. is not an option..the more you say.. the more you react..the more you express.. I ..will ensure .. absolute sensual and sexual pleasure.. and desire..”

“Kissin..

Suckin..

Lickin..

Fucckin .. luvvin..

every..

Single.. inch of you..”

He’s quiet.. but his breathing is heavy.. but low..

I ask..” Have I lost you?”..

He responds in another low, gaspy like growl.. “No Bae.. I’m here.. you Fucckin me up right now..” his voice sounds weakened , low, and gaspy.

“ I want you soo Fucckin bad right now.. Fucck..”

“Mmmm”.. I say..

“ I bet you do”..

“ Question tho..”

He replies..

“ I’ll answer any questions you have.. just lemme feel you.. daam .. please..”

“ Soo.. why you haven’t made time for me before.. I mean.. “ I say , as I laugh a lil..

“ we text.. you call.. you video or whateva.. but tonight because we talking about My Pussy.. you ready for me to come ova.. or wanna come ova here.. but before that.. you always busy.. what’s that about tho for real “.

“Come on Bae.. “ he’s still has that low gaspy whisper. “ Don’t do that.. you already know how I feel about you.. my Dick on Rock even when you send me pics of that beautiful face and that pretty smile.. you know I want you.. don’t do that please.. come on .. just lemme see you tonite.. imma show you how much I want you.. and we can do whateva you want Bae.. dead serious.. I really feel like I need to see you right now..’

I let him say his piece..

I laugh again..

“Your dick still hard right now?” I ask..

“ Babe , I swear I was about to cum .. listening to you.. You and that mouthpiece.. daaam .. I felt like I was in the pussy just by what you was sayyin... I don’t know how.. but you got me feelin some type a way fa’real.. .. I’d stay in that pussy all nite.. Babe.. not goin nowhere On God!”.. you got me “

As I’m listening to how fast the bullshit flies from his mouth..

I ask another question..

“ Do you know that I’m Celibate?..”

Silence..

Call Dropped

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fd-writes · 9 months

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Queen, Invest in Yourself

Invest; “Putting in the time, money, and energy into making your current and future life better ”

It is time for you to invest in yourself, not looking or trying to invest in someone else but only you. When you invest in yourself, your glow-up is real, taking the time to nurture, care and honor your well-being is love. Loving yourself is pouring into your cup and watching it overflow.

I can’t tell you how happy I am to see so many of my fellow Queens walking the talk, and learning to understand the assignment. Investing in yourself doesn’t make you selfish, narcissistic, or arrogant. It is energizing to your heart, mind, body, soul, and spirit. It brings true wholeness to you and how you choose to invest in yourself is your business (as my fellow Queen Tabitha Brown so eloquently states it). You can’t be a blessing to others if you are not a blessing to yourself, we need to become investors for ourselves. You deserve the trips, the careers, the home, the wealth, health, you deserve it all.

All of this sounds great, right? But unless we learn how to do it, then it will only be words that we read from posts on social media, in books, or listening to podcasts. We have to learn how to become practitioners of investing, meaning we have to start where we are currently. If we have to scour the internet in search of free resources (because only you know what is in your wallet), maybe join online or in-person groups in your area or outside of your area (depending on your geographical location) that are learning to invest in themselves. Community is so key because when you are feeling weak or down, or ready to give up, having your sisterhood come alongside you to lift your arms to help you stand up from your chair is a game changer. We need that, we need the fellowship and those cheering for our wins (no matter the size of them). Let me give you a word of caution because we all need it, don’t allow anyone to minimize or trivialize your growth. Dream killers exist because they were too afraid to go after their dreams and invest in themselves. Be mindful of who you share with as well because everyone is not rooting for you, Queen.

Investing in yourself is not a road to walk alone, pray for God to send Queens your way to help you. Investing in yourself is also not for the faint of heart because we have to unlearn a lot of unhealthy habits, toxic thoughts and become set free from trauma. These are the blind spots that we can’t see because we are too close up in the mirror, not realizing the accidents waiting to happen because we’ve made to believe that everyone else comes before us. So I will say this and then I’m done. If you don’t take anything else from this post, I need you to know that you got it in you and it may be buried deep down inside but it’s there, and it’s high time for you to unveil it.

Well Until My Next…Invest in Yourself Because You Deserve It!

Photo Credit: Ayo Ogunseinde Surface Logan Weaver Pixabay

#fdwrites #2023 #invest in yourself #investment #glow up #writer #writers on tumblr #content creator #black girls who write #black girls who blog #blog #blogger

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thehoodarchives · 9 months

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WELCOME BACK TO DA HOOD

WASSPOPPIN HOOD BAES & HOOD BABIES!! We are back, I missed writing! I wanted to hop on here again, re-build my platform, my following, and re-build the place I once was. I am going to bring back some of the most popular posts. I want to come back and be at the root of TheHoodArchives and what exactly I wanted my page to be about. I have huge projects in the work that I can't disclose until I have rebuilt my following, I want my page to be popping again, I have missed you! Dassit!

#TheeHoodArchives #blackwriters #black women #blackgirlswhoblog #black girls who write #blackgirlmagic #affluentblackgirls #affluentblackwomen #black community #blackbeauty #black is beautiful

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bychiamaka · 2 years

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i’m learning what it feels like to be alone and actually enjoy it. allowing myself to not have an agenda when i’m in pursuit of stillness, but to allow to come to me what spirit leads me to experience. that can look like writing a letter to someone or writing that letter to myself. it could look like vibing in my cool ass room, reading a good book or sitting silently outside, taking in its nature. being intentional in each moment to say, “i enjoy it here” & really mean that. learning more of myself as i continue to seek her more. learning to be free in the way God has created me to express myself— & trusting that this path is okay. that this path is meant to be enjoyed— even if it’s meant to be taken alone.

#bychiamaka #chiamakaswords #real talk #inspiration #self love #healing #words #black creatives #writer #growth #learning lessons #black girls who blog #black girls who write #wordsofwisdom #think piece #blackgirlmagic #braids #cornrows

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gemsfromagemini · 2 months

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Hey Gems!

Here is the COVER ART for my second book, Sinister Sisters! Coming Fall of 2024!

Quite the chunky lil monkey this book is & you can check out a couple excerpts here!

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gdnewsam · 3 months

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The ladies of Noelle Vella have been nominated for a Black Girls Who Write It's Lit! Literary Award in the Best Black Magical/Paranormal Book category! Click the link below to vote for us! Please & thank you! 💖

#The Witches of Salix Pointe Book 3 #Noelle Vella #Black Girls Who Write #Its Lit Literary Awards #Magical #Paranormal

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korkiekenobiconfirmed · 4 months

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I don't need oxygen, I need a queer wild-west period drama like black sails. somewhat questionable historical accuracy, very slight dabbling in the mystical/spiritual, good representation on multiple fronts, themes of storytelling and history, anti-colonialism messages that make you want to tear your hair from your scalp anytime you think about them, characters and relationships that are so complex and twisted and well-written...then also just cool hats, fun music, horsies and guns.

...y'know, the good stuff.

#to the ppl who recommended the English…I’m gonna kiss you on the mouth #I watched it all today it was SO good #not queer exactly but it had everything else I needed from a show like that #black sails' combination of Cool Pirate Aesthetic and genuinely excellent writing is flawless #been watching billy the kid recently and like it's good #but it's not black sails good #GIVE ME THE FUCKED UP GAY COWBOY/GIRL MEDIA #black sails

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sugar-grigri · 6 months

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If Fumiko is monstrous then Fujimoto should start presenting her as such

Fumiko is written to remind us that Denji is a child, and I repeat, she is the symbol of a child's sexual trauma in all its horror and "paradoxes".

Touching Denji without his consent, catching an adolescent who hasn't yet discovered himself off guard, is the most obvious way of proving the link between the theme of sexual assault and Fumiko, but it doesn't stop there.

The fact that Denji accepts only proves this point: it shows just how much he's someone who needs boundaries and protection. He passively listens to what he's told without question simply because Fumiko has the upper hand.

She has one, but spends her time pretending she doesn't, in particular by disguising her age like a predator, calling him "senpai" when she's 22, and playing up her protective role as a "bodyguard" when she's only there to stop Denji thinking for himself

As can be seen in the dialogue between Miri and Denji, she positions herself as an interlocutor, standing in Denji's shadow, influencing his decisions and distracting the boy from the substance of Miri's message.

But she's a complete paradox, still trying to make Denji believe she's protecting him, she refers to Chainsaw Man as a "child", which rather than demonstrating a good intention shows that she's well aware of what Denji is and that she's abusing him head-on.

Who protects a child by attacking him?

Once again, I insist, these are two pages from the same chapter. Dare you tell me that Fumiko doesn't present any contradictions?

Above all, she makes it seem as if she only wants what's best for Denji, even when he hasn't responded to her pleas for help. Once again, there's a paradox: the predator blames her victim for not having seen her own vulnerability, whereas she’s only abusing those of her victim.

Fumiko is a metaphor for the very dangerousness of sexual assault, gentle on the surface but insidious, its violence only made clear and felt after the event, rising like a tide.

When Yoshida convinces Denji to give up his normal life, he leaves him in the hands of Fumiko, a public hunter, who symbolises the extent to which, despite the monster in front of them, danger also exists among men, and that the milieu of public hunters is a harmful world for a child.

I think the reason Fujimoto doesn't immediately place Fumiko in a position of condemnation is to instil a feeling of frustration and powerlessness at seeing Denji unprotected, to make it clear that "he's missing something", a parental figure.

But I think that for the writing to be complete, the author has to take a clear stance on the subject, in his own way of course, but explicitly

Seeing Fumiko next to Denji makes me anxious, it's such a common form of violence that it pulls me out of my reading.

Fumiko is a monster, so I pray that Fujimoto will have fun explicitly detailing her dark side and her horror.

If he doesn't, then she'll remain an unfinished and confusing chimera, the result of lazy writing and a fear of commitment.

#csm 136 #csm 137 #csm 139 #csm 142 #chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm spoilers #denji #fumiko #fumiko mifune #my thoughts #But I'm a realist I can also see the flaws in an author I love Fujimoto likes the dissident and morally controversial aspect of his work #Even when the violence is correctly presented there will be no narrator to condemn it Fujimoto doesn't risk accentuating Fumiko's horror #but just making it more present more controversial Just to disturb his readers who sometimes have no real use for the script.#Maybe I'm being too hopeful and justifying the shortcomings of Fumiko's writing to reassure myself #It's possible she's the black spot in part 2 #In a jump shonen you can't present a 22-year-old girl touching a teenager as a joke.#I'm in favour of creative freedom but I'm also in favour of authors being aware of their audience.

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hella1975 · 1 year

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it's been pointed out on here before that a lot of terf arguments are actually rooted in sexist idealology that feminists fought and died to unnormalise decades ago and that's its own kettle of fish but one thing i also find very frustrating about this so called 'radical' feminism is that it's so... defeatist? like the moment you categorically label an entire section of society as Bad and Inherently Evil then there's also the implication that nothing can be done about it, and it completely takes all accountability away. saying all men are evil is just another way of saying boys will be boys. he raped her because he's a man. he hit her because he's a man. he didn't listen because he's a man - it's almost offensively oversimplified. there's no point trying to fix this issue in society because men are just Like That, okay! so now what? it's not like they're going anywhere, so you just accept that 50% of the population are evil and will forever treat you terribly and there's nothing to be done about it bc they're biologically predisposed to it? like is that fr the argument here? you're soooo radical for that

#this is coming from someone who used to very genuinely be a misandrist #ironically it was only when i started actually analysing my own feminism that i got MORE confrontational with men #and started respecting my boundaries a lot better BECAUSE i started holding them accountable again #like when men treat me like shit nowadays i dont just write it off as 'what did you expect? he's a man' i get MAD about it #because i EXPECT BETTER FROM THEM even if it's just tiny shit women have to deal with daily #i hold them to just as high a standard as im held to and i make them take accountability when they dont meet that #and whether you realise it or not even on a subconscious level the MOMENT you black-and-white blanket statement all men as bad #you stop holding them accountable.#like it is literally just boys will be boys. do terfs seriously not realise they're sending feminism BACKWARDS #like if a girl came to me with her trauma and people - other girls no less - tried to comfort her with 'yeah all men are evil'#id be fucking furious. like no he did that because he was a piece of shit that had it normalised to him that women arent to be respected #dont you dare let him off the hook with something as simple and uncritical as 'he's a man'#i promise you men like that will MUCH prefer a blanket statement such as 'all men are as bad as each other'#than actually being point blank told they're an abuser or a rapist. because being lumped together is comfortable and even empowering #wheras isolating their behaviour with words that are Bad and Ugly (LIKE 'rapist') is not comfortable at all and has heavy connotations #idk i dont think radical feminism is always bad on its own it can be v liberating. just terfs and misandrists that i have a problem with #dropping this post in a piranha tank and closing tumblr knowing im gonna have some thirty year old karen yelling at me within 5 mins #i probably wont respond to any terf comments bc they literally mentally exhaust me with their stupidity #but that also depends on my mood and ability to keep my mouth shut LMFAO we shall see

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beautifullyscarred423 · 6 months

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She is Somebody

Somebody You don’t know or maybe you think You know

Or somebody you wanna know or somebody ..You Just Gotta Know.😆

I AM SOMEBODy.

Ya bettah ask somebody ☺️😆😘

#black beauty #female writers #black girls are everything #writers #beautiful black women #writerscommunity #black girls who write #whosthatgirl #self love #i love me

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chrollohearttags · 7 months

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when you realize 75% of this app has zero media literacy, the reading comprehension skills of a wet gym sock and the attention span of a fucking goldfish, you won’t feel so bad about your work or take these opinions seriously. Expecting people with a 3rd grade reading level and the plagiarism skills of an amateur thief to have anything good to say about creative writing is asking too much . Lower you expectations.

#this is literally WattPad with a Van Cleef bracelet on #ppl migrating from that hellscape and coming to this hellscape to be even more annoying #bringing their negativity and atrocious writing with them #originality is a lost art #the girls are plagiarizing left and right #cherry chats 🍒#send the flood #creativity is always going to bother ppl who can only follow trends and replicate what someone else is doing #I ain’t calling nobody dumb #but y’all possess some very modest intellect #they think bashing smut and certain hcs makes them scholars #and getting their opinions from tiktok and other ppl #you also don’t get cool points bc you hate a character portrayal either dumb ass bitches #but ask them to list the difference bw their there and they’re and they’ll seize up #“everybody has to start somewhere in their writing.#and the starting point is just stealing others’ works and recycling the same opinions #again y’all won’t be satisfied until this whole app is deserted #y’all keep drudging up nigga eren as if he’s the first character that has had this type of hc #y’all said the same thing about Bakugou and the Haikyuu characters #y’all just don’t want black women to have a safe space period #George bush you gon pay for your crimes #don’t argue with anybody who used to get their tests handed back to them face down

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thehoodarchives · 3 months

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Our Hidden Flag

Our Heritage Flag & Crest as Black Americans by Kièl Young

What’s popping Hood Babies & Baes, I’m not gonna lie when I first discovered this, I had a mixture of feelings, and the fact that it’s kinda been hidden from us and past generations is sad. Nonetheless, it’s better to know now than not know at all. If you’re a historic nerd like myself, this post is just for you; however, even if you’re not you’ll wanna read this piece. I know personally, as a kid I grew up in a melting pot, Miami was the spot where everyone can share their culture and rep their flags to the highest, shoot one of my godfathers were Cuban. However, as I got older I always wondered why we didn’t have a flag, I mean we have the Pan-African flag but we don’t have a flag as Black Americans. That’s where the Black American Heritage Flag comes in. Scrolling through tiktok I saw two videos that really touched my heart to make this piece. A lot of us didn’t know that we have a flag, so if you’ve ever felt left out or maybe lost—don’t. Just like we have our own culture, we have our own flag as well. The Black American Heritage Flag was created and designed by Melvin Charles & Gleason T. Jackson in 1967. It’s not as mainstream as the Pan-African flag, so sadly if you’d like to get one where you can hang it, you’d have to get it personalized. Let’s break down what the flag means.The red of the flag symbolizes the blood of our people that was shed, the black in the center is the pride of our skin color, our people’s pigmentation, the wreath is the symbolism of peace, prosperity, everlasting life, and finally the sword is the pride for our heritage. Many of us don’t know about this flag, like I said I just discovered it. Having this flag is an open invitation to talk to the future generation about it, when you see others looking for their identity in their blackness, it can be hard until you realize that our culture is in everything. I’ll definitely be waving this flag this Juneteenth, to show that we’re not left out, we aren’t last. You can be prideful in this flag and it’s time that we make this flag as mainstream and popular as the Pan-African Flag. I have my Pan-African Flag in my home, and I don’t plan on taking it down at all but it’s nice to know that as a black woman in America, I have a flag. This one was short, and sweet but I promise I got another post for you coming soon, til then, stay good wid it hood fam.

#black community #black girls who write #black women #blackbeauty #blackgirlmagic #blackwriters #black heritage flag #museology #african america history #african american studies #black history #black archives #black excellence #black is beautiful #black tumblr #blackgirlswhoblog #black men #hbcu

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punkeropercyjackson · 4 months

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Me when i see Luke stans bashing Annabeth for being super mean and even often toxic to Percy because of the way she grew up:

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bonefall · 8 months

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Two questions! What's Leopardstar doing after her death? She got dammed so hard that there was a comet in the sky iirc, and Starclan happily gave Mistystar her lives, so I imagine that Lep is PISSED that her murderer is being welcomed as a hero, while she's rotting in the DF. I would like to know how she feels about Tigerstar's plans, since BB Lep was an active supporter of his idealology

I thiiiink the fallen star thing was a joke, but it is a very funny image to think that any damned spirit becomes one tbh

But actually! Leopardstar and Mudclaw are both kind of ashamed of what they did. Leopardstar is more resigned to her fate, while Mudclaw eventually decides he wants to atone and gets involved with the StarClan bridge.

Being around Tigerstar and a bunch of the worst offenders of TigerClan has brought a lot of it back. Distance had made her begin to feel that there was no need to "throw the kitten out with the tonguewash." Tigerstar himself was bad, yes... but is it *really* so wrong to want a pure, strong Clan? What's wrong with putting RiverClan first?

But now she's back under his claw. Being spoken over, used as a pawn, just like old times. She hasn't confronted the CORE of how her ideology is bad, but she does remember know how humiliating this situation was, and how terrible Tigerstar really is.

But at the same time, she is proud. She cannot let Mistystar go unpunished. She wants "revenge," though, to her "revenge" is a rematch.

On the day she died, Mistystar attempted to poison Leopardstar's food, in a way unintentionally similar to how Leopardstar poisoned Crookedstar before them. So she recognized it right away. It struck her in that moment that she was sick of these dirty, dishonorable tactics.

So she pushed it aside, leapt to the top of the stump, and announced that she had learned of a pack of vicious rogues on the border. "Mistyfoot and myself will confront them. Alone. Don't follow."

Mistystar only won the fight through luck. There was a stone in the river where they fought, and she smashed Leopardstar's head on it until she stopped moving.

So, Leopardstar uses this in her death to hold a grudge. I think on some level she knows it's an excuse, or perhaps a quirk of her pride, that she feels her death was unfair. She believes she gave leadership to Mistystar by covering for her own murder-- and she WANTS that perfect fight.

But before the BOTTE, I plan for her to have a conversation with her apprentice. Hawkfrost's arc is to break free of his father and his legacy... and he needs to speak to his proud, strong leader, who he comes to realize is being used like a tool.

It's another step in his revelation about cycles. How he was used, how he's done the same thing to Ivypool, how people have been doing this to his loved ones long before he was born.

#Now and then I see a passing sentiment of frustration towards writers who write fic where black gets redeemed but leopard doesnt #But understand this; I LOVE Leopardstar.#And I thought a lot about the story I was gonna tell in my redux of TNP #And this story works better with her. Largely because of her supporting cast #Between Misty Sedge Hawk Moth and Storm #They all come together to tell this story much better than Black Russet and Tawny can #And on a less important note... I hate how much they tried to soften Leopard. With all of her supporting material #But ive gone off about her before and im sure I will again lmao #But shes MY spotted mean girlboss and you will pry her from my cold dead hands #LET GIRLS BE PROUD. LET GIRLS BE CONSUMED BY IT #Better bones au #BB!Leopardstar

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reinekinthos · 7 months

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fine milkers — about sirius, obsessing over her moony's tits (pt.1)

lesbian wolfstar | hogwarts | getting together | it will definitely get explicit.

—

“Why do tits get bigger on your period like, Merlin, why,” Jamie whines exaggeratedly, palming her tits with a pained expression as she storms in the room.

Remus winces but refuses to lift her eyes from her Potions textbook and hopes her friends takes her as example.

They don't. Of course.

“It’s to attract mates,” Sirius says mildly from her bed, where she has been lying for the last half hour seemingly engrossed in her own Potions textbook. “Your body is preparing for the following week when you’ll be so horny you’ll be humping your pillow and screaming Evans, Evans, Evans!”

“Sirius!” Remus reprimands her, mostly because hearing her moaning Evans’ name is giving her the chills.

Remus inhales slowly. Sirius doesn't even bother to look guilty; her eyes fall to the flex of Remus’ ribs as her chest expands, follow the way her breasts moves with her breath.

“Wait,” they hear Jamie say, and Sirius drags her gaze away from where she has been struck dumb. Jamie is still massaging her breasts in the middle of the room. “Is that true? My boobs are huge because my body wants to attract suitors?”

For fuck’s sake.

Remus brings her hand up and massages her brows, pinching the skin together as she assesses the words she wants to say. “Of course not, Jamie,” she starts but at the same time Sirius scoffs, “hah, huge she says, you wish!” and loses the other girl’s attention.

“Mean, Pads,” Jamie counters, pointing at her, eyebrows raised. “Why would you say that?”

“I’m just saying, your tits are just tits, alright?” Sirius says before she gestures vaguely in Remus’ direction. “But those tits… Those tits are huge! Enormous! Massive! Gigantic! E—”

“Sirius!” Remus yells, her face burning. “You’re making me sound like a cow!”

Sirius sighs dreamily. “They’re fine milkers, Moony.”

Remus opens her mouth and then closes it. Milkers, she thinks looking pointedly off to the side, not meeting Sirius' eyes, oh my God.

Jamie shakes her head, dropping her hands and looking fairly depressed. “Now Remus, why would you interrupt her? I wanted to see how long she could keep that up.”

“Jokes on you,” Sirius huffs, tilting her head and flashing a charming, thin-lipped smile. “I can describe her tits for hours.”

Remus can feel the flush spreading across her face and down her neck, even slipping beneath her night shirt.

“For God’s sake, Padfoot!” Petra cries horrified, pushing the curtains around her bed open.

If she were braver, she would look at Sirius straight in the eye and say, don’t pretend to be attracted to me. It's cruel. And you're never cruel. Not to me.

If only Sirius knew.

Sirius is the prettiest person she has ever seen, no doubt. This fatal combination of sharp grey eyes, cute nose, doll lips. It’s impossible not to notice. She stands out anywhere, turns heads even when she's keeping her own down, which is rare, because Sirius is fierce; she puts up with people talking shit about her and responds with a confident grin. She's also smart and reads tons of books, folds over the corners and underlines words, careless in every way that Remus wishes she could be.

Remus is a below average teenager who never really let go of the fact that Sirius is perfect. Easy.

It’s Sirius' fascination in her that is beyond comprehension. Remus is… Remus.

There is an attempt to be logical. Remus is well aware that her mind is a cruel thing; she’ll convince herself that she’s unworthy no matter what, it’s just who she is, built for pain.

Though this time it's not self-sabotage. Sirius is entirely out of her league. Remus has known this since she was an eleven year old scrawny girl in an unfitting crowd, zeroed in on the laugh of an impressive little rascal. She was in awe of this girl from the very first moment. It just got worse with every sight of her, every new piece of information to tuck away, every sweat inducing conversation. She knew it when she thought she was straight, when she became well aware of her crush, to when she realised she would always be a little in love with Sirius Black.

Sirius is oblivious. Completely unaware of her internal turmoil. She hangs out with her, shares her books, buys her chocolate, gives her hugs. The luxury of intimate moments is not something that Remus deserves, and yet she gets them, and still finds something to be unsatisfied with.

She tells herself she's lucky enough to be Sirius' friend.

Remus takes a breath. She has done this before, but now she’s blushing. It’s unfair. She tries to get a grip, clenching her jaw and looking into Sirius' twinkling eyes.

She sets herself up for heartbreak.

Sirius smiles lazily as she watches Remus get up from her bed and shove irritatedly her feet in her winter slippers. “I’m leaving.”

The library is the rooting spot for Remus' unjustified mourning so she gathers her things. “There’s a book I need to look up for an assignment. I’ll probably be there until curfew. Bye.” In a blur of motions, Remus flies out the dorm room door. The last thing she hears is Jamie deadpan: “So smooth Pads, she wants you sooo bad.”

#sirius black #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #remus lupin #james potter #sapphic #wlw #lesbian wolfstar #wolfstar #marauders #harry potter #random writing #girls who like girls #lesbians #reinekinthos writing

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daisychainsandbowties · 10 months

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thinking a normal amount about a treasure planet au. Beatrice on her solar kiteboard, doing the daredevil flip sequence framed against the setting sun and then getting hauled kicking and screaming back to her parents’ house in manacles with a defiant expression on her perpetually dirt-smudged face.

climbing out the window at the first opportunity to go down to the dockside inn, making nebulous plans to steal her kiteboard back but ending up down at the edge of the dock staring past her boots and into the mists. gripping tight to the wood beneath her as she looks up at the sky and dreams of anywhere but here, of stealing a skiff to get off this planet. a reluctant twinge at the thought of going alone.

Bea with all her star maps and her intricate knowledge of spaceships and their solar sails and how to navigate out there where the artigrav net is all that stands between you and floating through nothing, forever.

startling when she hears the familiar sound of someone booking it down the pier on wooden crutches. night has already started to speckle the sky above, and as she listens to the thunk of the crutches on the pier, Bea thinks of the complicated metallic lattice she has on her desk at home, partly disassembled because she’s still trying to work out parts of the engineering. Ava’s birthday is in a month.

she has to stay that long, and then she’ll leave. she will.

turning to watch as Ava races towards her with soup stains on her shirt and messy hair jammed flat beneath a ‘pirate’ hat she bought off of a traveling salesman last year. the tricorn wobbles precariously on her head as she moves. Beatrice just waits, a slight smile on her face.

there are bruises high on each of her arms, from the pincer-like grip of the police bots, manhandling her away from her kiteboard to snap manacles around each wrist.

she rubs at the skin there, but ignores the bruises.

when Ava arrives, a little out of breath, Beatrice holds up a hand so she can help herself down onto the pier. there’s no water beneath them, only a few hundred meters of empty air and curling mist.

Ava keeps one hand on Bea’s and the other on her shoulder, letting the crutches clatter down between them as she sits.

“Mom says you got arrested again,” Ava says cheerfully. “She says they’re threatening to send you to prison.”

Beatrice shrugs, “I wouldn’t mind it, so long as my parents did not visit.”

Ava’s fingers are covered in bright red band-aids, from chopping vegetables all day with her poor hand dexterity. Beatrice watches the colours blur as Ava punches her in the arm, right on the bruises. “Liar, I know you’d miss me.”

her arm throbs painfully, but Beatrice’s expression is carefully neutral as she responds.

“I might.”

she stays with Ava that night, both of them reading her old book with its floating images of ships and canons and pirates leaping from vessel to vessel. Captain Flint, materialising out of empty space to steal away gems and gold, “the loot of a thousand worlds.” Ava traces the projected lines of the solar sails with her fingers as they flicker into being.

Beatrice has repaired the book over and over, making the colours brighter and sharper. the tiny shapes of pirates all made up of light. Ava has the book open on Bea’s chest as she lies next to her, legs all entangled in the sheets they’ve kicked off because the night is so warm.

she seems oblivious to how Beatrice’s breath hitches at almost every touch.

they’re almost asleep when they hear the explosion, a ship crashing into the cliff-side, tumbling over and over before they hear the pop and hiss of heated metal. a bloom of smoke outside the window.

Beatrice gives Ava a piggyback ride down the stairs just before Ava’s ‘mom’, Suzanne, emerges with her pulse-rifle primed, hair loose around her shoulders.

they stumble into the yard and discover a pirate, a robot, still bleeding from a wound in his abdomen, crawling from the wreck of his ship. Beatrice heaves a shard of twisted metal away from him and finds the surface slippery with blood.

behind her, Ava sways a little, shivers in the cold air, but she’s still standing when Beatrice turns back to her.

the dying pirate tells them almost nothing useful. he’s half-mad, cluching at Beatrice’s shirt until the seams tear at the collar, then turning to Ava. he fetches out a lockbox from his ship, blood spilling onto the ground at the movement. unlocks it and takes odd sphere from inside.

it drops into Ava’s palm as he rasps, “Whatever you do, don’t let them find it.”

then he wheezes, shudders, stills.

they stare at him, Ava’s free hand finding Bea’s, holding tight.

“Is he… dead?” Ava’s voice in the silence and the dark.

“I think so.”

then, in a burst of light and sound, in a shockwave of displaced air, a ship plummets down out of the clouds, pulling up an instant from the ground.

this second ship looms down out of the sky, pirates dropping from it and suddenly Suzanne is screaming at them to “GET INSIDE” from an upstairs window as she takes potshots at the misshapen shapes swarming down lines of hempen rope.

the air lights up with orange and yellow as explosions ripple down towards the crashed ship, towards the inn. Bea flings one of Ava’s arms around her neck and sprints for the door, Ava holding the sphere (or map?) tightly against her chest.

she sets Ava down gently onto one of the bar stools, runs back to barricade the door. her face is flushed, streaked somehow with engine grease and robot blood, which is black and slightly acidic.

they exchange a wide-eyed look, too much meaning in it to parse as explosions rock the floor. Ava has both hands clutched around the sphere.

they both almost scream as Suzanne runs down the stairs in a blur of dressing gown and gun. she has Ava’s crutches in one hand and her rifle in the other. she kisses Ava quickly on the forehead, “Thank the tides you’re safe.” leaves her with the crutches and then goes to fetch an ancient-looking blaster pistol out from behind the bar, presses it into Beatrice’s hands. “You know how to use this?”

“No!”

“Aim it away from your own face.”

and then there are pirates all around the house, glass breaking and fire crackling. Beatrice takes up the rear, pistol pointed at the front door as it bulges under the pressure of pirates flinging their bulk into it again and again.

they climb out of a window, Suzanne producing a kitchen knife and jamming it into the neck of a pirate loitering uncertainly outside the bolted shutters. there, covered by a tarp, is Suzanne’s old motorcycle with a sidecar attached. lantern-bugs scatter out from under it as Suzanne throws the old tarp away, gestures for Beatrice and Ava to climb in as she covers them with her rifle.

there’s a roar from somewhere in the dark and Suzanne fires a shot, hops onto the motorcycle and revs the engine. then they’re moving, pirates parting before them like the ocean neither of them have ever seen, the vast bodies of water that don’t even exist on this planet.

they seek refuge with Jillian, an archaeologist who frequents the old inn, claiming that she can’t make her coffee taste of anything but soap. she examines the orb, reluctantly passed into her hands by Ava, her and Bea wrapped in an old blanket, sitting by the fire in Jillian’s immense study.

Jillian fiddles with it for an age before sighing, looking almost angry with herself.

“I can’t… seem to make this work.”

Ava holds out her hand, silent. “let me try,” and Beatrice makes a face at Jillian when she hesitates.

the pirate gave the sphere to Ava; it’s hers.

it seems much larger in Ava’s small grip. she looks down at it for a while before her fingers start to move, slow but gathering momentum as she presses the little grooves and switches and indents on the sphere.

until it lights up, showing a map of the known universe, and parts of it that are unknown.

“Is that-” Beatrice feels her words drop away, like the ground beneath the pier where she has passed so many hours sitting with Ava’s hand in hers.

Ava turns to Beatrice, eyes bright as a pair of stars, “It’s treasure planet.”

#treasure planet au #warrior nun #avatrice #and yeah what about cyborg shannon & mary her first mate and their (pirate) spaceship/ literally just an 18th century frigate #thinking of shannon growing increasingly fond of beatrice who helps her with her star charts and the calculations for navigating space #both of them of course planning their betrayal but looking at these two girls slowly realising they're in love #furious conversations in the captain's cabin and lilith up in the crows nest half the time. cam pestering her with tea #🥹🥹 ava with morph the little pink blob who sure yeah belongs to shannon but hangs out 'spying' on mary in the kitchen #i just think ava and bea should run away and accidentally join a pirate crew together #it'll be fun (i say remembering the Black Hole Incident)#anyway maybe i will write this idk

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