BeBeffin writes then fucking dies

WARNING: This blog contains content intended for adults - MINORS DNI! --- Hobbyist throws shit at a wall and calls it peak prose - nothing is beta read because i dont talk to people enough to get a beta (les goooo) --- 24 | She/her

[bebeffinwrites4u]

Hi BeBeffin fans <3 (literally nobody)

I am now hosting my own writing blog where I post flash "fiction", actual fiction, maybe a little poetry, and whatever the fuck else I want to (yippeeee)

hugs and kisses friends hope u enjoy

love yall

[bebeffinwrites4u]

I lace my hand in his I feel his skin against mine I look deep into his eyes but there's nothing hiding behind

He opens his mouth to speak and i hear the words come out but none of it makes sense Which brings unease and doubt

To see this mechanical man Sitting silently in my room holding his own visage is bizarre as my groom

And yet I fall again Right back into lifeless arms Tying up my soul itself into false, computerized charm

[bebeffinwrites4u]

The skylight on the ceiling let me stare at the leaves above. The silent rustling of them above in the wind was mesmerizing. The green swirled against the blue, with the whites of wispy clouds highlighting their separation. I held my hands, fingers interlocked. Nausea still managed to penetrate it all. The feeling still lingered, even as I laid and looked out at the sky. It felt as if I were shackled to the bedframe, unable to move.

Had all of my actions led me here? To the sky? To the leaves? A leaf fell onto the skylight. It was a large leaf, obscuring the view. My breath held still for a moment. Quiet. Ah. The silence of it all was deafening. My ears rang, making up for the absence.

The digital alarm clock at the side of my bed shrieked. The leaf didn’t move. It held still, unable to hear the sound from across the window. I could though. My hand extended, hitting the snooze button. It didn’t stop its shrieking. I kept my eyes on the skylight. I ripped the clock from the socket, tossing it onto the floor.

The sky still remained the same. It couldn’t hear any more than the birds and the sound of the wind. I wished I were the sky. That I had no flesh, no pulse, no mind. I wish I could look down through the skylights of people chained to their beds and make leaves fall on their windows. Green and blue were such awfully nice colors. That’s likely why I hate the winter.

The greys and browns of winter were my least favorite things. Grey is a cold and aloof color. It’s smooth and feels like metal. Brown is the color of rot. When the greys and browns of winter smile through my skylight, I see my own face. When winter comes, my mother tapes a poster of a nice summer sky over it instead.

Unfortunately, that poster often falls after a couple of weeks and rests on my body instead. I hate looking at the naked branches. Though I am more naked than them. My skin like the flesh under their bark, raw and pale- crucified to my rusted bedframe. There are no leaves hiding our bodies. No green, no blue, just us against that metallic sky.

[bebeffinwrites4u]

Alright, I debated posting this for a total of... Not enough minutes- and have come to the impulsive decision to post the evil (incomplete) notes app Archibald Snatcher goonslop to my esteemed writing account (lol not esteemed any more- more like e-steamy (gets shot))

Anyways- here's the raw bs (might delete l8r uwu (gets shot again - DOUBLE KILL)):

Nonsensical plot for the sake of fantasy, because fuck you, I want to GOON

I don't know how it happened, but I was transported to the world of boxtrolls, right before the start of the movie. I could tell by how the world around me looked, as well as the posters up around the city warning about the dangerous nature of the said little monsters, as well as my brief encounter with Snatcher. It was only a moment, but it was more than enough for me. I remember my panties becoming sickeningly damp at the sight of his face. It shocked me tbh, I don't believe I've ever been that turned on, and just by looking at the man. 

I suppose I was transported here just out of my sheer desire to fuck that man. Where there's a will, there's a way, it turns out. But that doesn't mean that it'll be easy to pussywhip him and not be rejected immediately, or worse have a single fling and been left discarded like rancid meats. I layed in bed, half naked, hand toying with my pussy as my body rocks back and forth. My head flopped to the side and I caught my reflection. I stared. I looked so different yet still completely like myself. My brow furrowed. I hoped I'd fit his type. My dirty blonde hair moved gently as I rode my hand. I closed my eyes and imagined his large frame hunched over my body, his greasy hair hanging from his head, framing his face as he looked at me. A whimper escaped my mouth and I felt my pussy throb. I wondered what his cock would look like, would it be girthy or narrow? Long or short? Would it have a curve? I couldn't imagine it, but I felt like it'd be just right, and fit perfectly inside of me.

I paused. I wonder if he's a virgin. He doesn't seem like he'd have had many lady suitors, and he doesn't seem interested in much other than gaining power. I shook my head, he's probably virginal or hasn't had many partners. I smiled slightly, that'd be a relief, given the lack of condoms in this era. Another throb and quiver. I wonder if he'd cum inside? I bit my lip and massaged my clit. I'd like that. Drool dribbled from the corner of my mouth.

I was lucky I ended up coming into this world in the upper middle class. A devious grin made it's way across my face. Snatcher is a lower class man, I could lure him in with my higher economical standing. That's an idea. A good idea if I must say so myself. We can use each other to get what we want- he gets closer to being a white hat, and I get to be railed by THE Archibald Snatcher. A giggle and a moan escaped from me as my back arched. I could hear ghosts of his voice tickle my ears. My cooch clamped down on my fingers and I felt it pulse rapidly. My breaths were shaky and choppy. I froze still and basked in the feeling, a whimper leaving my body. Then I collapsed, stretching weak tired limbs. Cumming always had a way of knocking me the fuck out. My hand patted around my bed, looking for my phone.

I forgot this world didn't have televisions yet, let alone phones. I sighed. At least they had rudimentary lamps. 

I sighed and hoisted my body off of my bed, my legs barely able to hold my body up, and I waddled over to my bookcase. I parsed through my collection, my clean fingers trailing over the backs of the books. I paused on one that stuck out from the rest. I paused in shock before laughing, "the fucking Kamsutra exists in this world? That's crazy work"

I wondered how many of the positions I could try with Snatcher... Probably not too many, I cracked a smile at the mental image.

[bebeffinwrites4u]

I am naked

Physically

Emotionally

Mentally

Much has stripped away

the layers I've worn

My hair falls over my breasts

And I cross my legs

And hide that space

Worshipped

And destroyed

--

Hands come down from above

In the ceiling

In the walls

And press against my flesh

Nowhere bad

Not quite yet

--

I close my eyes

And imagine

A meadow of marigold

And lilies

I run in them with fae

As they caress

My mess

--

I laugh

I'm free

I reach

And grab the hands

As they touch me

At last

I drag them down

Til they grasp

A new spot found

--

The fae

They smile

My vision goes white

Like a wedding gown

Silk

Soft

Voices talk

Above

My breasts

Grow still

Still round