prncssie

[prncssie]

want to write something but i have zeroooo ideas so you probably won’t hear from me for a while again

[prncssie]

hehehehe you guys are so cute

[prncssie]

untitled 1.7k words minors dni

the old fan creaks and whines as it blows a lukewarm breeze of perfumed dorm air. the scent of fresh laundry and something citrusy wafts through your nose and pleases a part of your brain. it only adds to your heightened senses, sending your hands tingling, even as they’re wrapped around hobie’s bare shoulders. he’s too tall though, so they slide down the lean expanse of his toned, mahogany colored arms.

they smooth over the soft strands of body hair and when your arms find a comfortable position, you pause, gripping the skin even harder. you almost don’t hear your sweet boyfriend over the sound of your hushed gasped and muted bed squeaks.

“baby,” hobie taps his fingers against your cheek. there’s a smirk tugging on his lips that you can see in the dead of night. it’s just that big. “you okay? not to much is it?” in particular hobie fashion, his words are accompanied by a long drag of his hips sliding his mushroom-head cock outside of your weeping cunt and back inside. it’s languidly slow but hard, thrusting enough for you can feel his semen-filled balls smack against the backs of your thighs.

you have to bite your lip to suppress the whimper clawing its way up your throat. your bent legs quiver, shaking and twitching and snapping shut around his thin waist. you want nothing more than to wrap them around him but the option is taken away from you when a large, calloused hand pushes them apart again.

it only takes half a narrowed glance for you to answer his question. though he tilts his hips upward, making sure the fat tip of his dick brushes against the very beginning of your cervix, you muster up the will to speak. “mhm,” you hum. your brown eyes close and roll. you don’t know what else to say, nor do you think you could say anything.

and hobie knows that.

it’s even more obvious when he smiles — and you just know he does — and wraps that same calloused hand around your throat. it’s an, admittedly, tight grip. one that has you panicking just slightly for air but that’s the fun of it. “use your words, mama.”

a beautiful pair of doe-shaped eyes open again, eyelashes just barely brushing against your upper eyelid. more, more, more. your brain chants it’s repetitive mantra, insistent until your dry lips contort themselves to quietly murmur that one syllable word.

your soft voice contrasts the sound of cars buzzing along the highway just a few miles away. it carries over the background noise, sounding in its own melody. it even piques hobie’s interest, forcing him to push his eyebrows upwards. he soaks in your request with a lowly chuckle. “more? you can barely handle this.”

you almost laugh yourself at such an assumption. you can handle it just fine, you’d say. sure, there’s a couple breathy gasps and whines and maybe you have to remind yourself to keep your knees spread but there’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing.

almost.

before you can conjure up an opposition, that grip on your neck is released and traded for fingers digging into the sheets beside your tangled curls accidentally set free from their bonnet. the even paced push and pull of hobie’s hips is replaced with a vigorous plummet of his dick so deep inside you, it sends a liquidy wave of cream expelling from your cunt to drench his raw dick instead.

you don’t mean to get as loud as you do, moaning loud enough for it to echo in the cluttered room. it merely slips out from your pillowed lips. hobie cuts it short, though, by slapping his hand so tightly over your mouth. 

“shhhh.” he says, leaning towards your head and stuffing his other hand beneath the arch of your back. “be quiet.” the gleam of his eyes shows his mischievous nature, even when he glances towards the thin wall separating his single from his suitemate’s. 

you can only let out a muffled whimper and pull him closer, finally wrapping your legs around his waist and allowing him close access to your dripping pussy, though he already had it long around for your watery arousal to drip between your spread round cheeks and cover the smooth skin. it leaves a damp spot beneath your lower body that darkens the purple sheets. 

“there you go. you like that?” hobie’s pace slows again, more by force instead of convenience with his new close position. his eyes search your expression, drinking up the lewdness singing behind it.

you nod and pulling him even closer. your hand finds its way on his cheek, fingers pressing against the prominent bone that’s makes his face all the more beautifully angular. your lips meet his in a brief competition for dominance, all before you decide to just follow his lead and allowing him to suck on your tongue.

both wet muscles swirl against each other and you swallow the mixture of saliva that floods your mouth. you know you’re insanely in love with him judging by the sweet taste your brain assigns to hobie’s spit. it’s minty but sugary, like a fresh stick of spearmint gum. 

“god, you’re so tight.” he presses his forehead against yours. he blinks slowly. his dark eyelashes brush your cheek, dusting them in sweet affection. 

all you can do is giggle, tugging on the closest loc you can get your fingers on. your fingertips graze the coarse strands frizzing out of the initial confines it was once in.

“is something funny?” hobie’s baritone voice vibrates through his bare chest as it floats its way out of his throat, akin to a siren’s song that draws you in. his head dips beside yours in a smooth motion. one of his hands go to cradle the very crown of your head, flattening the soft, frizzy strands in their place.

 you’ve been with hobie long enough to understand what this hand placement and the deep, soul-reading strokes that come with it. you can only assume your little chuckle didn’t exactly go appreciated. you get a brief second to inhale the warm air into your lungs and hum a quiet mm-mm before he begins moving.

it’s evenly-paced thrusts, hips rolling and angling upwards until his fat cockhead is thoroughly bartering the soft g-spot deep in your cunt. he anchors you in place and his tongue lays flat and warm against the column of your neck. 

you can’t help the way your mouth falls, gaping wide and contorted in a soft “o”. you can’t help the sudden dryness your mouth takes on, either, when being faced with such open air but the saliva is quickly replenished when hobie hooks his fingers into your mouth.

it happens rather quickly, long digits flattening against your pink tongue and pushing deep, deep, deep into your throat. you nearly gag, gurgling on the spit that gathers in the very back. you want to whine and thrash, forcing him away until you can gain some decency of yourself but your cunt says otherwise.

it simply gets wetter.

and hobie can feel it, too. he can feel the slick coating his balls and the very lows of his abdomen. he thinks he can feel it dripping down the tops of his thighs. he would smirk, lifting the corners of his brown lips, if it weren’t for just good you felt.

how great and perfect your pussy is. how warm it is, how wet it is, how tight it is. like you here created from moondust and and stars. it makes him grit his teeth and grunt in your ear. he’s nearly animalistic, clawing at the sheets and thrusting as deep into you as he could. there’s a need, a silent whisper deep inside his head. one that can’t help but control his each and every move.

breed her. breed her. breed her.

and he can tell you’re close, too. there’s beginning to be an unrhythmic jerks to your movement. it’s almost like you’re trying to follow the sticky staccato of two bodies moving together in the lowlight, but you’re always a few steps behind.

“oh my — fuck!” your hands fly to circle around his frame. you can feel the muscles pulling taut with every movement hobie does. you’re drunk in it, in him. he’s perfect, too good at what he does and so close to pushing you over the edge.

you do your best to crane your neck to look at him, hoping to spare just a glance if not hold the contact while that orgasm wracks through your body. it’s only a few thrusts away, buzzing beneath your nerves and resting right on the tip of your tongue. you can taste it, a saccharine flavor, syrupy and thick that coats your taste buds. 

your back arches even further, pressing into his chest. a large breath of air fills your lungs to the brim, expanding in your chest. your eyes flutter clothes and you dig your nails into his back. “it’s right there,” you’re so airy as you say it. your whole body tenses with anticipation.

it’s building, right in the precipice, and begging to wrack through your body —

but then the fire alarm rings.

[prncssie]

and also i’m cleaning out my following today so minors and ageless profiles beware

i’m back who missed and also wtf do i write

[prncssie]

i’m back who missed and also wtf do i write

[prncssie]

Are you ok lol

yeah i’m great i just don’t write while im at school because it takes up most of my time. i’ve been very focused on getting my degree and working i’ll resume writing when i go home and have more free time

[prncssie]

IM NOT GONE im in school babies i promise im coming back! college is very demanding and i work now saur my schedule is busy :p

[prncssie]

i’ll start writing again next week!! this was my adjustment week guys. let me settle in, get through my first full week of classes and thennnn :D

[prncssie]

hi guys sorry for the absence! i actually just moved on to my college campus so 😭 that’s where i’ve been! surprise!

[prncssie]

going on a cruise guys see you when i get back <3

[prncssie]

okay so i am glad you mention that you are a foreign voice. im not sure if you saw my other posts about how i felt about this but here’s the thing:

i am black. i am black and i dont think your approach was respectful or provided you new way of thinking. you didnt critique racism at all. you wrote about a fictional man and found humor that this fictional man would so casually say a slur used against people of my skin color.

if you want to put racism or whatever you please in your writing, there is a proper way to do that. you could have written about your own experience but for some reason you chose a community outside of yours that you do not belong to???

you didn’t critique or hit any marks. people who are supporting it are simply calling him cute and sweet. there’s no room for discussion and allowing people who aren’t black to see that and think “aw how sweet. the reader doesn’t let him say a slur”. that’s not sweet.

sukuna does not exist. you are a real person that does. you created this idea and wrote it, projecting the way you think onto him because that’s what we all do when we write about fictional characters.

there is no new way of thinking. this isn’t a taboo. it’s a slur. you didn’t approach the subject carefully. there was no meaning behind it. you said yourself that it’s supposed to be this gross feeling underneath romance. then what? and then after that do we learn anything? no. we learn that sukuna says slurs and it’s sweet.

there’s no lesson and there isn’t one you can teach about the racism in the black community. once again, write all the icky topics you want as long as the apply to you and are truth to you. let other people decide how they want to deal with their truth and their trauma on their own. this is erasure of our voices by dismissing our own feelings about our negativity because you don’t believe in it.

edit: i've never seen star wars; it doesn't interest me but i wouldn't react like this because as far as i know, star wars didn't write about a real life slur none of them can relate to.

i don't recall saying you can't write heavy topics but i DO recall saying you should write about what applies to you because there was nothing to gain from this. normalizing other cultures using slurs that don't apply to them isn't helping, particularly if the culture its used AGAINST doesn't want that.

if you don't mind for your own slurs, do whatever you want. keep black people out of it though.

writing icky people doing icky things doesn't make the writer a bad person. that's pretty much it.

i write about icky things, from child marriage to incest to rape to slurs to kink because i think its important to understand these things from the safety of a fictional literary perspective. its right there in the masterlist.

this isnt a cutesy pop fanfic account. the sukuna romance fic was a little something i pulled out my ass when i had a severe writer's block. i don't write things like that usually, unless the mood strikes me.

it's like screaming at hayden christensen cuz darth vader did icky things. he's an actor, im a writer- there's a certain distance between the art and the artist and that's called real life.

no i do understand the weight of approaching a heavy topic as romance. its icky. i write icky. i think sitting down with icky and why it makes us icky and the repercussions of that is important.

the racism comes up in passing in between what's supposed to be a sweet moment. exactly. its wrong and its icky. you, as the reader, know that it's wrong. do u think its the writer's responsibility to be explicit in their implications of the text? i trust the reader to read between the lines of what's happening. racism and ableism runs underneath the sweet moment between two lovers because its sukuna. mr evil who corrupts everything sukuna. that's what all my works are like. this isn't peppa pig.

that's not sweet or romantic. yes, the reader interacts with the character of sukuna and determines that. thats how xreader fics work.

your first point i have bigger issues with, that some topics can only be approached by some people/communities. i disagree. as long as the approach remains respectful and provides new ways of thinking, a foreign voice is to be appreciated. i dont believe in the sanctity of creating taboos.

@prncssie

[prncssie]

idk guys sorry for the rant but it gets so exhausting seeing people separate their writing from the real world in the most extreme ways. like yes, fiction is fiction 100%. but also, at some point you have to realize what you’re writing.

trying to defend yourself by saying sukuna would do that because of x, y, and z and how we all missed the point because he’s evil is sick. no shit he would probably do that but he’s not fucking real and you’re not fucking black. if you wanted to write a piece like that, maybe you should have focused on something that pertained to you. why the fuck are you approaching topics YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS APPROACHING.

and it’s so upsetting that they see nothing wrong with it. i’m sure they experience something similar wherever they are from because they are a person of color so it’s like . . . do you not understand why that would be wrong???

sukuna doesn’t exist. he’s not real. he’s lines in a paper and code on a computer. some part of you showed in there, some ignorant part that doesn’t understand the weight of approaching a heavy topic as romance of all things. and it doesn’t even talk about racism. it just brings it up in passing in between what’s supposed to be a sweet moment.

that’s not sweet or romantic. that’s not something you should be talking about. and to defend yourself the way i interpreted you to do so is so foul and disappointing. poc will always be at war with each other because of situations like this where people lack understanding.

do not go and send death threats or hate or misgender them. i don’t promote that. if this is how they feel, i can’t change that but i will speak on it WITHOUT insulting them or calling them out their name.

[prncssie]

i don’t really give a shit if sukuna is canonically evil. sukuna doesn’t exist. YOU do. and YOU wrote that and you kept it up. you wrote that knowing the connotations and the harmful effects it has on people. people who already have it hard enough.

you thought about it, wrote it, and posted it. you disregarded the possibility of your black audience and how they’d feel because YOU thought it would look good. that’s embarrassing. how dare you pick a fictional man over the real life feelings of people that actually walk this earth and deal with day to day struggles simply because of the color of their skin. the hard r??? and then you wanna end it on some haha funny ableism??? are you not embarrassed???

Sukuna learnt English simply by hearing you speak for a month. He’d copy your lips, how they pouted and folded, mouthing the foreign words silently. It was a good excuse to stare at you for hours on end. 

He’d won wars, what was a wee little language to his might? Though as he struggled to pronounce this one damned word for the fifth time, you admit that it did put up an admirable fight.

“Lrl-oman-cuh”    “Romance.”   “Lrl-omance”

“It’s a hard ‘R’ sound, Sukuna.”   “You told me never to say the hard R.”   “That’s a different thing, try this again?” 

“It’s said,” and you could glean the mischief he was planning, “that it’s easier to learn languages when one understands the meaning of words. And I, for one, am a visual learner.” 

“Explains why you could say ‘rice’ and ‘riddle’ but not ‘romance’.” You scoff at his cunning masterplan… to be romanced? “I suppose it goes a bit like this.”

You bring the back of his hand, the weight needing two of yours to simply lift it, to your lips, and mumble through your kiss– “Romance.”

He cradles your cheek in his palm, covering half your head. “Lrlr-omance.”

You kiss his wrist, inside of his elbow, bicep, shoulder, and whisper into the crook of his neck– “Tongue to your hard palate, romance. Will you stop joking now?”

“I can, unfortunately, only say llomance.” He lets you peck his lips, rest your forehead on his, rub noses. It’s a different world now– different ways to show affection, different languages to pick up. “And no, I won’t, not until you teach me well.”

“Perhaps you simply can’t.”   “Mayhaps I can. Watch, reta–”   “–I get it.”

a/n: sukuna– “how do you say, eh, browwjobbe? im a visual learner btw.”

masterlist new!

[prncssie]

hey idk who needs to hear this clearly you do but don’t include slurs or insert yourself into communities you don’t belong to. there was nothing funny about the hard r remark. you’re not black and that’s not a joke, nor is it something you, a nonblack person, should feel so comfortable including so casually.

you’re writing at the expense of real life people with real life feelings about the words that are used to literally dehumanize and degrade them. you said you’re indian-japanese, if i remember correctly based off what you post. if someone did the same to you who didn’t belong to whatever community you belong to, you’d feel the same.

you should feel embarrassed and disgusted with yourself. that was sick and i cannot believe people are laughing like that was such a funny little chuckle. you’re 19 and old enough to know ts isn’t funny or cool. you don’t impress anyone by being ignorant.

once again, black people who are steady minding their business have become the butt of the joke or whatever the saying is. genuinely, what made you think that was okay????? the fact that you felt comfortable writing AND posting and no one said anything except for one person that i saw?????

Sukuna learnt English simply by hearing you speak for a month. He’d copy your lips, how they pouted and folded, mouthing the foreign words silently. It was a good excuse to stare at you for hours on end. 

He’d won wars, what was a wee little language to his might? Though as he struggled to pronounce this one damned word for the fifth time, you admit that it did put up an admirable fight.

“Lrl-oman-cuh”    “Romance.”   “Lrl-omance”

“It’s a hard ‘R’ sound, Sukuna.”   “You told me never to say the hard R.”   “That’s a different thing, try this again?” 

“It’s said,” and you could glean the mischief he was planning, “that it’s easier to learn languages when one understands the meaning of words. And I, for one, am a visual learner.” 

“Explains why you could say ‘rice’ and ‘riddle’ but not ‘romance’.” You scoff at his cunning masterplan… to be romanced? “I suppose it goes a bit like this.”

You bring the back of his hand, the weight needing two of yours to simply lift it, to your lips, and mumble through your kiss– “Romance.”

He cradles your cheek in his palm, covering half your head. “Lrlr-omance.”

You kiss his wrist, inside of his elbow, bicep, shoulder, and whisper into the crook of his neck– “Tongue to your hard palate, romance. Will you stop joking now?”

“I can, unfortunately, only say llomance.” He lets you peck his lips, rest your forehead on his, rub noses. It’s a different world now– different ways to show affection, different languages to pick up. “And no, I won’t, not until you teach me well.”

“Perhaps you simply can’t.”   “Mayhaps I can. Watch, reta–”   “–I get it.”

a/n: sukuna– “how do you say, eh, browwjobbe? im a visual learner btw.”

masterlist new!

[prncssie]

Hey remember how Noir is an anti-fascist from 1933

[prncssie]

why did i just get a tumblr ad with this couple literally fucking against the wall 💀 can’t need advertisement that bad

[prncssie]

Bug