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🩷“Pretty Little Things in the Pink House”🖤

The pink house sagged on the corner of Ashwood Lane, wilted like a half-dead rose. Its shutters were crooked smiles. The porch steps groaned when no one walked on them. And from behind the cracked windows…

She watched.

She always watched.

She was nineteen, but time didn’t move the same inside that house. She’d been abandoned there long before she could remember. Just a little doll with moonlight skin, tall and slight like a ballerina ghost. Her hair poured in silken black waterfalls down her back. Her dress — pale pink with tired white ruffles — clung to her like faded memory. Her socks had frills. Her black Mary Janes never left the front porch.

She didn’t speak much. But she hummed lullabies.

And the house listened.

🌕🌑🌕

One rainy evening, he came — a shadow of a boy with hands that had already done too much. Six-foot-four and still growing, hair a mop of damp brown curls, hoodie soaked, pants sagging with the weight of his crimes. His black Converse squelched in the mud.

He didn’t knock. Just stood outside the house, staring with storm-colored eyes and a face that didn’t know how to feel. He’d run from somewhere. Maybe the law. Maybe something worse. There were stories about what he did. A knife. A basement. Screaming.

But she opened the door for him.

“Are you lost?” her voice floated, barely above a whisper.

He blinked. “Are you real?”

She tilted her head. “You’re cold.”

He stepped inside. The bugs crawled under the floorboards. The wallpaper peeled like shedding skin. But she moved like a music box ballerina, and something about her made his heartbeat slow down instead of speed up.

“You live here alone?” he asked.

“I’m never alone. The house talks.”

He didn’t answer. Just sat on the dusty couch, dripping and watching her. The hem of her dress swayed as she walked barefoot across broken tiles. The house creaked like it knew secrets.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Then I’ll call you Crow. You look like a Crow.”

“Fine. What should I call you?”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t remember.”

🌕🌑🌕

Crow didn’t leave.

He slept on the attic floor, curled under moth-eaten blankets. She brought him cracked plates with jelly toast and tea that tasted like flowers and dust. They talked only in half-sentences.

“You killed someone,” she said one day, not accusing — just stating.

He didn’t flinch. “They deserved it.”

She nodded. “That’s what the house said.”

“You really hear the house?”

“Yes. It told me you'd come.”

Silence.

“…And it told me you'd stay.”

🌕🌑🌕

Days bled into nights. The air turned thick with whispers. She would sit on the floor and comb her hair while he watched from the corner, chewing his nails. Sometimes he’d wake up and find her by his side, just staring.

“You’re not scared of me?” he asked once, voice like gravel.

“No. You’re soft inside.”

“I'm not. I'm poison.”

“You’re just cracked like me.”

He hated how she made him feel — seen and small and safe. Like maybe, if he stayed long enough, the blood on his hands would dry and flake away.

🌕🌑🌕

But the town started whispering. About a killer boy. About the ghost girl in the pink house. Something wasn’t right, they said. That house should be empty.

So, one night, blue lights flashed at the end of the lane. Dogs barked.

They came for him.

She met him at the top of the stairs, eyes wide, dress fluttering.

“I won’t let them take you,” she whispered, her voice trembling for the first time.

“I’ll run,” he said. “I’ll go. You can’t get caught with me.”

“No. We stay together.”

“Why?”

“Because the house said so.”

The floorboards opened like a mouth.

And when the police broke down the door, the house was empty.

Just dust. And echoes.

And somewhere deep in the walls — a music box tune.

And shadows dancing in pink.

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I need this😫😫

🫧☁️ Lamb Regression Moodboard ☁️🫧

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Haii~₍ᐢ๑•ᴗ•๑ᐢ₎ﾉﾞʰᵉʸʸʸ

So, ik it's been awhile since I posted or even made a blog. I just wanted to pop in and say hi, I'm back just gonna do different things or u guys could just suggest things and I'll do em(some not all). I missed y'all, j hope u guys r doing well.

The changes r that I might start writing stories like MLM, WLW, etc

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Eating your ass on the 1st date, yeah or nah?

Uh maybe? If I don't chicken out (sry for the late answer)

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Favorite drink? Type of soda, tea or water, etc.

Tea: ginger and mint

Soda: spirit, Canada dry, doctor peper

Juice: apple, orange, kiwi and strawberry

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If you could have any kind of meal, what would it be?

Well it would have some spaghetti with Alfredo sauce mixed with broccoli and chicken. Sunny side up eggs, BBQ chicken

This is just a hard question, sry😭

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Favorite music genre?

(Sorry for so many questions btw)

Oh I like all music genres, it's ok with all the questions, dear lol

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How long have you been a feedee for?

A few weeks or months I lost count? 😅

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Have you ever popped a button before?

No not yet

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So, for the next few weeks. Everyone is invited to ask me the most random questions and I'll answer em immediately

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Wanna get knocked up by a man who wants fat children?

Umm..... Idk yet

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Ever want children to plump up?

Well sometimes but not often

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Gonna be bold and say you probably got the prettiest cunt ever. I would be so wet having you stomach rubbing on me as we grind our cunts together

Heh rlly? Ty🤭🤭

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@ukchubbygirllover he gave me the idea 😁😁

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Hey! If you're going to post stuff like that, you should add an age to your bio!

Oh yea, thank u I forgot bout that

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I really want this for my birthday 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

real as heck