#im still behind but at least not helplessly. I don’t wanna think about how little I would know if my education was left to

[sam-moss]

I don’t care what happens, I’m never leaving this website. This website taught me the word “trauma” at a young age and taught me how it can affect you and how mine affects me. It taught me the word “asexual”. It’s taught me at every turn how to understand myself and how I’m not alone no matter how different and alone I feel.

I feel like I grew up on this website and like I grew into the person I am today bc of it. It’s felt like more of a home than any physical space I’ve ever occupied for sure.

[euphoricsunflowers]

calling you daddy — monsta x

scenario: they ask about your kinks and you ask them to call you daddy

a/n: this is written with a fem reader in mind but is not strictly fem reader as no pronouns or anything is mentioned.

a/n: was this a request? nope tbh this was written for myself bc i’m sick and tired of seeing people call these men daddy so uh pls enjoy

word count: 2k

content: sub!monsta x, dom!reader, daddy kink obviously ajshdhs, minhyuk is kinda bratty? kinda??, lots of teasing and begging, mentions of consent and stuff

—

son hyunwoo/shownu:

he falls silent. he doesn’t know what to say in the slightest. he worries that he might hurt your feelings or say something out of line, but it just stuns him, “you don’t have to do it if you’re uncomfortable with that, bear. your consent is just as important,” you say.

but see that’s half of what’s stunning him. he’s not exactly uncomfortable with that. shownu’s nature is pleasing you, he doesn’t mind filling any role or position for you, this was just a little more intense than that.

“you know what? just forget we had this conversation. i don’t want you to feel pressured, and it’s not a big deal, okay?” you say.

but the idea lingers in his head whether or not you want it to. as the days go by, his mind wanders, and while it may not exactly be what he’d be into, he’s not against doing it for you.

as you manhandle him a little bit, he says it softly, “ah, daddy-,” it’s even more embarrassing than he imagined, and his cheeks and ears are flushed and hot, but when he says it, softly under his breath, just whispering it out to test the waters, he sees your shock and then your small little smirk.

“now that i know what it sounds like to hear you say that, and what that does to me,” you say, sneaking your hands under his shirt and letting them wander, playing with his chest a bit, “i don’t think it’s a good idea to say that if you wanna make it out of this bedroom spotless and in one piece.”

he blushes even more, a little shy and hesitant, but he likes having this kind of effect on you, so that may not be the last time he says it. besides, who says he cares if he makes it out in one piece? and spotless? his neck and chest and thighs were too clean anyway.

lee hoseok/wonho:

it was in the middle of you riding him, his wrists bound above his head with a rope that made his skin look so pretty against it. he’s already cum once, but you’re not stopping until you do, and he’s trying to keep himself together. your hands roughly playing with his chest is overstimulating and he’s overwhelmed. he pleads for mercy aimlessly, almost thoughtlessly.

but then, “if you’re gonna beg, call me daddy,” you murmur. he’s not even sure he hears you right when you say it. he looks at you with wide eyes, and he assumed he did because of the way you act. he knows he could stop you at any time because you’re very clear on consent and it’s not like this was completely out of left field considering how you’re already always in charge in the bedroom. he was just stunned.

and while he’s a little bit stunned, he also won’t deny that it is a little bit hot.

so he does, “please, daddy, it’s so much- i- i can’t handle it.”

he sees your smile, with just a drop of sadism behind the curl of your lip, “just a little more, baby, i’m close. you make daddy feel so good,” he gets so excited by the praise that he attempts to stick it out, forever still the man that just wants to make you happy and please you.

he forgets about himself and his own body for a moment when he feels your body tense up around him and you hold onto his chest as you orgasm, using him to get the most out of it before you slow down to a halt.

your heavy breathes and sweet nothings whispered in his ear are heavenly.

lee minhyuk:

“really? you’re into that? i honestly thought it would be the other way around.”

taken aback, you ask, “really? what gave you that impression?”

“idk, you don’t have this aura of dominance, so i didn’t really assume that was your thing.”

“is that- is that okay with you?”

he gets closer, teasing in the way he wants to make you shy, “you seem pretty bashful for someone who just asked to be called daddy in the bedroom.”

“minhyuk-,”

he rolls his eyes, obviously trying to get a rise out of you, “come on, i don’t even know if you have it in you.”

and something about his careless, taunting tone sets something off inside you, like he was challenging you. but it’s a challenge you take on when you approach him. your touch is softer, lighter than he imagined. he thought you would be lit aflame with a need to prove yourself to him. but you lean in to press a kiss on his neck and your wandering hands settle on his hips.

you’re gentle with him initially, yet he melts a little bit when one hand tightens and another begins to unbutton his shirt, giving your mouth access to his chest.

you push him onto the couch, straddling him and using a hand to hold both of his arms above his head, when you pull back, he looks dazed and needy, all those teasing smirks having faded off his features, “why are you so affected? i thought i didn’t even have it in me,” you say with a smirk this time.

he breathes heavily, “y/n- please-”

“oh please, that’s not my name anymore, min.”

yoo kihyun:

“you want me to what?!” his voice is randomly high pitched, loud, almost like he’s nervous or scared.

despite that anxious feeling you’re feeling too, you try to stay calm, “i understand if you’re uncomfortable by it, but you asked about my kinks, kihyun.”

“yeah i know- i just- i wasn’t expecting that- really? you’re not messing with me? that’s really what you want?” he looks exasperated.

“yes. i really want you to call me daddy.”

he goes silent, trying to comprehend in his head what the hell was going on and what he was going to do and why the more he thinks about it, the less vehemently against it he becomes. and he had spent the entire relationship making it clear that he cared about what you wanted (because he does) and it’s not like… he hates the idea of it, but it’s just so out there to him that he can’t even fathom or imagine it.

he asks for a few days just to think about it, and though the awkwardness lingers in the air, by the fourth day, it seems like you had mostly forgotten about it or at least it didn’t seem to be on your mind. he spends those days really thinking, trying to imagine what it would be like, why you would even want that.

but the next time you’re together alone, your hands and lips are on him and he experimentally says it, “daddy, please.”

the whiny, begging voice, coupled with the word, leave you stunned. you pull back with wide eyes, and he felt so embarrassed and shameful with your eyes on him like that, but then you pulled him back into you and kissed him with a certain kind of feverish desperation that made his knees weak.

chae hyungwon:

his reaction is oddly pretty calm. he asked about what you were into, and you told him. maybe he was expect something a little different, but to be honest, he knew you liked to be in control, and he usually just went along with it. he didn’t mind it especially because you always made sure you both felt good and that was all that matters. that and he kinda likes being told what to do.

so it doesn’t exactly surprise him, especially when you add, “but only in a sexual context! i don’t need you to say it all the time.”

“good because there’s no way in hell i’m calling you daddy in front of my friends,” he can see the thoughts behind your eyes wanting to take up that challenge, but he decides to ignore it, “as far as they’re concerned, i’m daddy.”

“sure, wonnie. sure,” you say dismissively, before looking back at him, “are you actually okay with it though? i know it’s… weird.”

“it wasn’t what i was expecting, but if that’s what you want, then i’ll do it.”

and as soon as you’ve got him under you, with kisses and marks trailing down his neck and chest, leaving him helplessly turned on and horny, he says it so naturally, you wonder if he even thought to do it. but whether or not he’s doing this solely for you, or because he might have found it a little hot, is between him and himself, “ahh, daddy, please- be gentle with me- i have a photoshoot in the morning- oh my god that feels so good please daddy don’t stop-”

lee jooheon:

he likes the idea of it when you mention it, he just gets kinda shy, “do you- do you really want me to call you that?”

you come closer, holding his hand and rubbing your thumb against it in a comforting manner, “yeah, i really like the idea of it. if you’re not completely against it, i’d be really happy if we could try it.”

“it’s not… the worst thing you could have told me you were into,” he laughs as your hand starts to massage his thigh instead, “we can try it. i'll tell you if we need to stop, but i think it’ll be okay.”

“good, i’m glad you’re reacting this way, honey,” you murmur as you kiss him, and he smiles, which, even if it makes the kiss a little awkward, is really cute, “sweetheart,” you whisper as you pull away, “can you say it? i just wanna hear you say it.”

your hands wander his skin nervously, he can tell you’re worried about him being uncomfortable, “ahh, d-daddy, please touch me more,” he whines, and he’s never been more compelling before, but somehow the use of that word really makes you want to give in and give him anything he wants, “please touch me.”

your hand falls a little lower upon his request, and he groans lightly, pulling you a little closer, “you’re perfect, baby, so pretty.”

“ahh, please,” he huffs, clearly growing shy with the praise, but it’s obvious he really likes it, so you touch him more and whisper sweet words into his ear with a kiss, “oh- oh my- daddy- please i-”

“you’re so cute, sweetie pie, especially when you’re feeling good, you look so pretty and content. it’s my favorite sight,” you say adoringly, looking at him with the biggest heart eyes.

“wow, i didn’t expect to like this this much but-“ he whispers, “-i kinda love it.”

im changkyun/i.m:

he doesn’t react much when you say it, making you wonder if he was uncomfortable or not into it, but in any case, you assume it’s going to be forgotten in a few days and there would be nothing to worry about.

until he’s trying to get you to play with him and you’re trying to work. he can’t deny that he gets horny easily and you’re right there! he tries to tease in an way he can think possible, but to no avail. you’re still just sitting there, typing away on your laptop.

“just another thirty minutes, and then im all yours, baby,” you murmur to him, and he pouts subconsciously out of frustration.

he gets an idea, and i’m sure you know what it is.

“alright, you’re busy and i respect that. i guess i’ll just leave you be and go play by myself, daddy,” he giggles when you look over at him for the first time in this encounter and then he walks away.

as he sits on the bed in your bedroom, he awaits the sound of your footsteps, knowing he’s won. the door opens, and you walk in too casually, enough to make him suspicious, until he’s pulled onto your lap with your lips on his shoulder. your hands sneak under his hoodie, and his hands brace himself on your shoulders for stability, “ah- y/n-”

“baby, i did not set aside my work that’s due tomorrow morning to come fuck your brains out just for you to call me that,” he shivers, so incredibly turned on, “try again.”

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiast @multidreams-and-desires @hobilluvvr @vanillaknj @yr-domxfantasies @treasure-hwa @fleurshopsub @rubyscloud9 @silencefavarchive @nct99 @bigkpopstan @monstaxdirtywonk @domreaderrecs @mochi-ficz and always feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist <3

[ilovejaskierthebard]

Concept: In a more peaceful world, the Witchers are just a bunch of dudes with tragic pasts and Geralt is a horse-trainer, Lambert is a baker, Vesemir is the village schoolmaster, and Eskel is... uh... well, no one really knows, because he doesn't actually live in the village. He lives in the hills with his ten goats and sometimes on market days he comes down and sells cheese. How does he make this cheese? No one knows. It's pretty good, though.

Okay. First off. I love you and this whole soft concept and I just like, wanna throw myself into it like a crazy woman.

So Geralt is living his best horse-girl life and loving it. 100% teaches the local kids how to ride maybe even has little shows/games and gives tiny medals with horses on them because why not its 2 am and I wanna picture tiny babies on ponies while Geralt smiles okay

Ciri is deff a student and they super bond

-and maybe a certain Bard is like his only adult student who has "trouble" and needs leasons at different hours and its not cause Roach doesn't like him, maybe he just needs a refresher course. Late at night. Alone. Maybe someone loses a shirt?

Maybe Jaskier is actually a good rider, but saw Geralt the hot horse trainer and whoops he slipped and fell in love and DESPERATELY NEEDS LESSONS 'oh Geralt, I am so weak, please help me up? Oh Geralttttt I need help being balanced maybe you can sit behind me??' MAYBE I am just writing a romcom now and no one can stop me

TOSS A COIN TO YOUR HORSE TRAINER

((More like toss your coin to your well hung stable owner. 😉😉😉))

Lambert. Baker.

[Low hysterical laughter]

This bitch bakes. But like. Angrily?

He is still LamLam ok, big dude with the worst case of Resting Bitch Face since my own. But now in an apron that Geralt or Eskel stitched tiny angry muffins on it.

His bread and sweets are DELICATE and SOFT and works of ART ok but he is still Lambert, my favorite goblin baby so he will 100% make your baby the best most beautiful smash cake -fuck it probably looks like a mini unicorn with handcrafted icing flowers and edible gold leaf BUT he would also mutter and swear the whole time and threaten to burn the bakery down at least 7 times. Probably cries about it too.

10/10 if someone tries to steal his super special recipes he would stab them with a rusty bread knife.

Vesemir as a school master but also clearly the kept man of a local rich widow (*maybe a few, I mean I was thinking of Mignole, but whose to say Papa Vesemir can't be out and flirting with rich upper class ladies. Maybe he was a sugar baby in his younger days, okay. I won't kink shame a man who can kick Geralt's well toned ass. You do you, Papa V) so he doesn't need to work he just likes keeping himself busy and enjoys it. I see him lounging about, reading and maybe yelling at kids to get off his yard.

Its just Lambert setting up his bake sale ok

Eskel is hottest goat herder and that is just the facts. He still has his jacket. He still has his Codpiece of Destiny (let me fullfill that destiny jfc someone take my phone away from me pls I am just helplessly dissolving into a fantasy of Eskel the Hot Goat Dad)

He has a whole herd. All of them have names. Like Miss Daisy. Buttercup. Flora. Rascal. Lamb Chop (cus Lambert is a dick) Lil bleater is the baby of the group and maybe he got sick as a baby so Eskel spent a lot of time holding and cuddling him and so now lil Bleater 100% thinks Eskel is his mom and every time they are out just follows Eskel around.

-excuse me while I go cry real quick

Also he makes cheese because what else is he gonna do with all those goats?? Shut up Lambert he won't kill his babies. So. Cheese.

It starts out as a hobby and really simple cheeses but because Eskel is like, a secret foodie at heart suddenly it is like those special designer cheeses that people TRAVEL for. Maybe Lambert sells it at his bakery too?

Meanwhile every desperate housewife and well hung stable hand is just like in tears trying their horny very best to get into that Codpiece of Dreams & Destiny.

Eskel heads into town once a week and its a whole THING. People spend days thinking up lines to get his attention. Probably cheese related flirty puns because they all applied to Jaskier's World Class Flirting Courses. (Why wouldn't they?? His flirting is totally working with Geralt so maybe that's just how you get a hottie of that level??)

Poor Soul: Brie Mine 😉

Eskel: What? I don't have Brie?

Poor Soul about to get his money back: 😧

Everyone flirts their pants off but Eskel just doesn't get it. Maybe they are just being nice because of his scars? Maybe Lambert threatened them with burnt buns for a month?

Meanwhile there are like at least three people willing to propose marriage at any given time and help him raise all his goat babies IF HE WOULD JUST LET THEM???

Im done now.

[artificialqueens]

Things That Were (Branjie) - pureCAMP

A/N - … Hi.

I won’t get into it, I don’t think I need to. But here’s a return no one expected, at least.

I wrote this based on some Feelings I have and also Jinkx’s song The Auld Lang Syne Song from… Christmas Queens 3? It has this beautiful sad, wistful, nostalgic kind of feel and it made me nostalgic for love and that strange time between Christmas and New Years. Largely sad, mostly bittersweet. Dedicated to my love Ortega, and in part for the nostalgia fic challenge.

I appreciate any and all support I’ve been given over these past months.

You have a new memory from (1) years ago!

Brooke swipes across absent-mindedly. She doesn’t think much about it, they pop up all the time in the holiday season. There’s a little loading screen, decorated with animated tinsel, that flashes in her face before every ounce of breath is knocked out of her body.

This is what dying feels like. Brooke wonders if there’s a loading screen before entrance into the afterlife. She supposes it would allow the dead some time to adjust, at least.

It’s a perfect, filtered picture. The Christmas tree looks beautiful, even as the pine dies, all decked in shades of red and gold, glittering twists and lights that twinkle gently enough to lull you to sleep. It stands tall in the background of the photo, illuminating everything with a cosy glow. At the forefront of the image, Brooke is that kind of happy, sleepy, warm drunk. Full of Baileys, probably, and little mini mince pies and leftover chocolate from boxes opened and half-finished. There’s a glass of red wine behind her, slightly visible on the table. She’s cradling Henry to her chest, kissing the top of his head.

Vanessa is next to her. The remnants of plum lipstick still on her lips, grinning, Apollo in her arms. She’s beautiful. She looks and feels like how Christmas is supposed to - welcoming, kind, gentle, sweet. And Brooke knows that she’s drunk too, and right after this she burst into laughter and her foghorn voice shattered the cosiness and it was so right and so them. And she knows how her stomach had twisted horribly after they took it.

It’s perfect. She won’t share this one. It will stay in her archives. It’s really been a year, huh.

The cats look at her accusingly, as if they know. They probably do know. They know everything about Brooke. Every flaw, every fault. If they could speak, she knows they’d ask for Vanessa instead of her. Well, tough. Vanessa’s gone, Brooke thinks, almost aggressively as if she’s trying to telepathically tell them so. Vanessa’s been gone for a year.

Or has she? Vanessa isn’t the one who left. Vanessa isn’t the one who walked out without warning, who pretended the bliss was as blissful as it looked and then ran from it all. No, no, that was Brooke.

She shuts off her phone, clicks the button to make the picture fade to black. The switch from warm and bright to black is jarring. It’s probably how Vanessa felt, waking up to an empty bed.

“Brookieeeeee,” Vanessa sings. She’s grinning, cheesing so hard that her eyes have disappeared, nothing but the flicker of a fake eyelash visible from them. “Brooklyn Briiiiiidge…”

Brooke turns, laughing, and waves away the whistles and teasing mumbles from their friends. “Vanjie?”

She pushes her lips together and makes kissy noises, wordlessly begging. Brooke gently holds her chin, lifts her head, kisses. She tastes like cinnamon and nutmeg and chocolate, a festive concoction of things that Brooke usually hates but loves on her. Vanessa looks amazing in gold and she’s an Oscar from head to toe, sparkling, beautiful.

Akeria makes pointed eye contact with Brooke, then mimes gagging herself with two fingers.

Vanessa rolls her eyes, the fondness on her face so evident that it could light up the entire bar. “I love you.”

And Brooke kisses her. The kiss says what it needs to.

Christmas a whole year ago. Brooke made a series of decisions. Stupid ones, maybe. Definitely. She doesn’t know who she’s kidding.

Funny how she finds it so hard to kid herself. Apparently, she had no issue kidding Vanessa.

A little while after Silky comments that Brooke really shouldn’t still be living in the shithole apartment she rented at 20, she realises that as rude and bluntly honest it had seemed at the time, she’s right. She resolves not to mention this to Silky, in case her ego inflates too far and she flies away like Aunt Marge (she thinks this with love), and starts looking online. And it’s impossible.

So out comes the phone, because there’s only one person to go to for this. For anything. Because she’s always there and she’s always willing and she only ever wants some quality time as payment.

B: Vanjie [8.22pm]

B: Vanjerella….. [8.22pm]

B: Vanessaaaaaa [8.23pm]

V: brooke lynn hytes [8.24pm]

B: Not the full name… am I in trouble? [8.24pm]

V: do u wanna be? ;) [8.24pm]

B: Hmm… I’ll think about it… [8.24pm]

B: Anyway I need your heeeeeelp [8.24pm]

V: i gotchu boo [8.25pm]

V: what u need baby [8.25pm]

B: Cutie [8.25pm]

B: I’m going apartment hunting, help me look? Idk what to even look for [8.25pm]

V: exciting!!!!!! [8.26pm]

V: babyyyyy this is so exciting for u omg!!! I love moving [8.26pm]

V: i hope i can help!! im usually terrible at this but i think we’ll have fun!! [8.26pm]

V: although i gotta wonder what made u ask me instead of somebody smart like nina [8.27pm]

B: Ah shit, great point nvm I’ll ask her [8.28pm]

B: Jk. Asked u because ur always here visiting, may as well find something u like as well <3 [8.28pm]

V: u bout to make a bitch cry [8.29pm]

Vanessa was over in maybe ten minutes tops, Brooke remembers. It was like she could read Brooke’s mind, and she’d brought coffee for them both to keep them going and even a little bag of kitty treats from the place she’d stopped at (“a guy was sellin’ them outside and I felt a little sorry for him in the cold so I bought ‘em. They’re good, the ones you usually get!”). They were up for hours scrolling, and then searching in person just so that she could act as a second opinion.

Brooke stands up from the couch and walks slowly, heavily, towards the window. Her Christmas tree is silver this year, silver and purple, and as pretty and icy as it had seemed when she decorated it, it feels cold and desolate now. It reflects on the glass and for a moment it’s hard to focus on the world outside when the world inside is so disturbed, but she manages. Dark as it is, the lights of the city are never gone, and she has a beautiful view of a metropolitan paradise laid out beneath her.

Vanessa loved the view. She picked it, in a way. Brooke was unsure about the viewing, and Vanessa wheedled, tugging her arm and telling her she’d love it.

She did love the view. But it was Vanessa’s view, that she saw first, that she loved first. Now it just makes Brooke feel sick. Sick at herself. Like it’s not hers to look at, and she shouldn’t.

She looks away.

A change of scenery helps to calm the mind, Brooke thinks. Nina told her that once, she vaguely recalls, as she sobbed helplessly into the arms of the only one who would listen. The only one who didn’t think of her as a raging evil bitch, and more of a hopeless coward instead. It’s not much better, but it’s a small comfort given how much she hates herself for it. She’s more inclined to go with what the rest of them all thought after it happened.

It’s late, anyway. Maybe it really is time to read a book and push down the thoughts and try to sleep away the regret.

“Oh god, oh god. Vane- fuck,” She breathes.

Waves of pleasure shoot through her, beginning deep in her belly and sending shockwaves all up Brooke’s back. Her hands grasp at the sheets around her head, desperate, clinging, her mind and body totally incognizant of each other. Her body is on fire, and her mind isn’t even functioning correctly.

Vanessa’s mouth is hot and fast and her tongue is skilled, and every time she grazes over her clit with the swift, feather-light touches Brooke thinks she’s going to pass out. Her fists grab tighter and her toes curl and a gasp floats from her lips, accidental, unstoppable. She manages to tear one hand away and threads it into Vanessa’s dark hair, urging her to keep going.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck…” She manages.

The goddess between her legs doesn’t stop, not until long after the inaudible mumblings have stopped falling from Brooke’s lips and her breaths are finally starting to slow, and she wonders how Heaven is meant to be above them when she feels herself sinking into it right now. Brooke thinks absent that maybe Heaven is here and everything else is Hell because nothing feels like being with Vanessa feels, and when they’re naked and intertwined and breathless and warm maybe they’re closer to God than they’ll ever be.

She catches herself before three words make their way out.

“God, this fucking mattress…” Is what she ends up producing. It’s digging into her back, lumpy and old. She’s only just noticed, in truth.

Vanessa’s head lifts, her makeup smudged in a way that feels beyond sinful to look at. She licks her lips coyly, sucks off her finger, and offers a lazy, heady sort of smile.

“The mattress? That’s all you got, boo?”

She’s laughing, happy, delirious. Brooke laughs too. “I don’t have to say anything about you. Isn’t the state of me enough?”

It is. On her back, chest peppered with bruises not yet formed, chest rising and falling beyond her control, legs still twitching slightly. Brooke’s completely spent, blissed out, exhausted. Vanessa’s still worn out from hers and yet her tongue is musical and the melodies were handcrafted by all the muses of the ancient world.

Still smiling, Vanessa shifts so she’s hovering on top of Brooke and then leans down to kiss her, their bodies colliding, Brooke tasting herself on the lips of her lover. It’s nights like these that make her feel like the world is a good place to be. That everything is fixable, everything is brilliant.

“We should get you a new mattress, baby,” Vanessa tells her when they break apart. “And I’ll probably never leave.”

Brooke forces a laugh, but the idea isn’t laughable. Vanessa and Forever go hand in hand, somehow.

And they do go shopping for a mattress for Brooke’s place. They wander through stores and discuss mattress firmness and size and height and flop down until they feel as though they’re ready to drop, and then Vanessa lands on one and yells “BROOKIE!” so loud that her voice - that goddamn voice - almost shatters the glass. She’s laying down with a beam on her face like nothing Brooke’s ever seen, pure sunshine, and she clearly has the best taste in mattresses because when she buys it, Brooke’s never slept so good in her life.

The bed is cold. Brooke deserves a cold bed. She left Vanessa in one, so it’s the least she can deal with it.

They weren’t always at Brooke’s - sometimes it was Vanessa’s too, for the sake of variety. Looking back on those memories makes Brooke feel like the biggest idiot in the world. Which she is, of course, and she knows it. But even here, the mini Christmas tree is cold and isolated, and Vanessa gave it to her as an early gift last Christmas, and Vanessa chose the mattress, and Vanessa picked the view. Brooke stares at everything that Vanessa has touched in her life and wonders why in the world she let herself ruin something so good. It’s selfish and stupid and self-sabotaging and that angel of a woman deserves so much more.

She thinks about sharing the picture. She could caption it with that song, ‘Now I’m in the house you chose and the bed you bought to face your perfect view’, and that could be her apology. Because she knows all too well she’s too much of a blind coward to say it properly. And Vanessa won’t see it even if she does share, because they’re not friends anymore. Someone will get it to her - probably Silky - but that’s not worth it.

Brooke opens her phone again, and swipes away from the picture before she does something stupid. Then she opens her texts.

B: Are you busy? [10.11pm]

B: Oh shit sorry, just saw Yvie’s insta, u guys are out tonight. Ignore this x [10.13pm]

N: No no! They’re out, I’m home because I was working all day and I was too tired :( [10.19pm]

N: What do you need hun? <3 [10.20pm]

B: If ur tired it’s okay, I’ll talk to u another time x [10.20pm]

N: Shut up. I’m here [10.21pm]

N: I think I know what’s going on. Right time of year [10.21pm]

B: I’m just an idiot, idk [10.22pm]

N: Nope. Stay where you are, I’m coming over. [10.22pm]

N: Did she text you? [10.24pm]

B: She’s not that stupid lmao why would she [10.24pm]

Nina is the only one who bothered to ask what the hell was going on when it happened. It’s not like Brooke can blame the others, and she doesn’t either. If someone did that to her best friends, she would be the same. And she is the same - she hates herself passionately for it. But Nina has this untraceable kindness to her, this unfathomable tenderness that seems to have no beginnings, no ends, no limits. It flows so freely from her, like a gift.

She has no idea how much time passes by crying and looking blankly at her phone, or even any idea when she started crying, but the doorbell rings and Brooke answers it already in tears and Nina sweeps her into a hug like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and maybe it is. To love your friends is easy and natural, like taking a breath in clean air.

To love someone special is like inhaling in water, drowning, getting lost. And you have to be content with the helplessness in order to survive it, or at least strong enough to swim and keep it going. You can’t just sink. Brooke couldn’t handle drowning.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” She weeps into Nina’s arms, once her choking sobs settle into streaming tears. It’s not better, just different. “I wanted to be with her forever and that was so fucking scary.”

Nina rubs her back. “Breathe, breathe. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“Is- is she okay?”

Stupid question. Brooke isn’t sure she even wants to know.

The hug finishes; they’re on the couch again. Nina pulls out her phone, frowning, and pauses like she’s thinking. She looks guilty, which is unusual.

“I would never normally show a friend’s text, y’know? It’s private, I don’t do all that betraying trust stuff. But I know she’ll delete these tomorrow morning and I think you should see them before she does.”

V: so its been a ear then hasnr it [10.56pm]

V: a year of fwithout brook [10.56pm]

V: honestly fuck her yknw what i man [10.56pm]

V: she fuckin broke mt heart man why did she do that [10.56pm]

V: i miss her an the stupid vats so muhc [10.57pm]

V: tha sonf auld lang syne plaed earlier in the bar bef4 eht club [10.57pm]

V: very apropaotye hahahahksjkdh [10.57pm]

V: may rhe acwanriance be forgot forever and fuckung ever [10.57pm]

V: is okay i can lobe w the bitternness [10.57pm]

V: i just kisd girls unt il it dont hurt [10.57pm]

Brooke sobs. Again, loud, shaking, broken. Because Vanessa is hurting so much even a year after it happened and everything feels so raw and it’s entirely her own fault for crushing the dream they were building.

“I miss her so fucking much, I don’t know why- I don’t know why I walked out,” She babbles, helpless and hopeless and hurt. “I’m fucking lying, Nina, I know why, I know why I did it. Why did I fucking-”

She knows all too well. Because Vanessa helped her pick an apartment and Vanessa picked her bed and Vanessa loved her cats. Because Brooke could imagine them getting married and growing old and it had barely been four months by the time Christmas and New Years were rolling around and everything seemed so serious and so intense, and that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun but it was scary in the same breath because speed was terrifying.

Brooke is bitter, but only at herself.

New Years Day. January 1st, a brand new year, a bright new start. The frost glistens freshly on the undisturbed morning, and all across the city, singles and couples sleep through the dawn, hungover or still passed out drunk, party hats akimbo, party blowers still suspended in smudged lipsticky mouths.

It’s early, enough that the daylight is blinding but pale and faded. Vanessa’s bedroom has the huge window that she never covers, and she sleeps through it like the dead. Brooke wakes up and looks around.

She looks at everything but Vanessa, but eventually her gentle snuffling is too much to ignore and she looks down at her beautiful sleeping form. She’s a disaster, hair everywhere and glitter still all over her face, and she’s the most breathtaking woman in the entire wide world. Something heavy and all encompassing sweeps into Brooke’s chest, and she can identify it by name. It’s only four letters, but it strikes a fear in her like an old god from a lost world. She needs to vomit. She needs to run. She needs an escape.

Before she even knows who she is again, any of the things that ended up staying half their time at Vanessa’s are stuffed into a couple of carrier bags and she’s in her dress from the party and out of the door into the cold winter air, panicked, unable to breathe.

It’s a heart attack, she thinks. Or a panic attack. It’s an attack that feels like it’s going to kill her, and she runs away, and she runs all the way home and barricades the door shut, dropping her belongings on the floor, numb and confused and cold. It’s the start of the new year and she begins it alone, hyperventilating.

Within a couple of days the worried texts subside and the angry vengeful ones start flooding in, and just like that Brooke’s lost the best thing that ever happened to her and all of her friends along with it. Because she got up on new year’s day and abandoned Vanessa fast asleep and that was the end.

It’s ugly and chilling, how much she cries into Nina’s gentleness. The only thing that stops her is, ironically, the thing that makes her feel worse, the characteristic ‘ping!’ of Nina’s phone, undoubtedly more drunk texts.

V: i hoper he fucjibg bubble bursts this tie of year [11.23pm]

V: every jhanduary first for the rest of hersitnkin life [11.23pm]

“I deserve it,” Brooke whispers hoarsely, “But she doesn’t. She never did.”

“Neither of you do,” Nina tells her sadly. “They don’t all hate you, they hate what you did the way friends always do when breakups happen. You both deserve to be happy. And both of you have been dreading New Year’s for this exact reason.”

It hurts to hear, and Brooke wishes she doesn’t have to listen, but her friend is so goddamn wise it feels stupid not to.

“Two days until it’s officially New Year.” Nina kisses her hand. “Can you keep living like this, Brooke?”

It’s not like she even has to say it for Brooke to understand. “She hates me.”

Nina shakes her head. “No she doesn’t. She loves you.”

“That’s worse.”

“You love her.”

“I know.”

“You got scared.”

“I still am.”

“Face your fears.” Nina holds her at arm’s length, forcing her to look right into her face. “This hurts more than what blundering through it would, surely? Fire doesn’t always mean you get burned, sweetie. Sometimes it just warms you.”

She makes no fucking sense.

“I can’t play with Vanessa like that again.” Brooke swears. “I can’t.

The transitional period between Christmas and New Year doesn’t feel like real time. It’s just liminal space, a waiting room of chronology, a suspension in space. If she’s honest, trying now causes no harm, because it’s like it didn’t even happen. Maybe she should, maybe she will.

Eventually Nina leaves, pressing a kiss to her forehead and promising that somehow everything is going to be okay. She’s like a fairy godmother, Brooke thinks to herself. Always knowing, always positive, and total magic to behold.

She’s awake all night long just staring at the time on the top of her phone, lying in bed sideways and wondering if she’ll do it. It has to be right. It can’t be when she’ll still be awake and drunk and angry. But it can’t be on the anniversary of her biggest fuck up, because that just feels like some kind of sick joke and that’s not what she wants.

The entire night passes. At six am, her finger hovers over the send button for a full three minutes. She counts the seconds.

B: I fucked up. If u’ll have me, I’ll never mess u around again. I didn’t know I could love someone so much and then u came along and everything sped up and I wasn’t fast enough. I shouldn’t have thrown away what we had when it was as close to perfect as anything can get. This message is all me me me I I I but if ur okay with it, I think new year should begin right this time. I’ll hold u and I won’t let go, and u don’t even have to hold me as long as ur here. Everything is up to u. I’ll learn to live with what I did if u say no. Because I totally get why u should hate me. I hate me too, kinda. U did nothing wrong. U were and will always be perfect. [6.03am]

B: Full disclosure is I was scared of how much and how quick I loved u. But it didn’t go away even when I hurt u. I was stupid to do that, and I don’t wanna do another year in the shadow of that massive mistake. [6.05am]

B: I won’t say it here, because thats cheap for u. But I’ll say it when I see u again. I promise, and I want to [6.13am]

She falls asleep with her phone in her hand after being awake all night long.

She wakes up four hours later.

V: ur dumb [9.51am]

V: theres a party at yvies for new years yknow [9.52am]

V: im not saying ill kiss u at midnight but [9.52am]

V: fuck around and find out [9.52am]

(tags: purecamp, branjie, brooke lynn hytes, vanessa vanjie mateo, lesbian au, things that were, fic challenge, nostalgia challenge, nina west)

[nom-the-skel]

[vore] Bunny Does Not Want

Fox Red being a jerk to Bluebunny

2k words

[read on AO3]

Chapter 1

The skeleton rabbit shrieked as Red pounced on him. Careful not to let him get away, the fox flipped him over to get a better look at him. He had to make sure he’d got the right one. The bunny was on the small side, wearing a blue bandanna. He was trembling, his ears pressed flat against his skull, but his cheekbones were glowing cyan. “Hi there,” Red said, and gave him a good solid lick up the side of his skull. The bunny squeaked and tried to shield himself with his arms, but Red kept them pinned to his sides. “P-please don’t eat me,” he said, looking up at the fox with wide, quivering eyelights. “Why not? That’s what bunnies are for, you know.” “No it’s not!” The bunny’s protest was breathless with outrage. “Yeah it is. That’s what happened to your brother, right?” “No! He’s just—napping somewhere.” The bunny glared at him, full of hurt, tears gathering in his sockets. “That’s what happens to little bunnies out here. But it’s okay. Look, you like it.” Red licked him again, pulling his ears up and dragging his tongue along their length. The bunny yelped, but he felt warm under Red’s phalanges and he was blushing harder, even as the tears ran down his skull. “See? It’s just natural.” Red nuzzled him, the bunny’s ears soft against his bone. “Nooo,” the little monster whimpered, trying to push Red’s skull away. “Are you seriously telling me you don’t wanna get eaten?” Red asked, not budging. The bunny shivered helplessly for a second, then managed a nod. He kept his skull turned away and his eye sockets squeezed shut. “Look me in the eye and say it, and I’ll let you go.” Red made sure the bunny had a good view of his sharp teeth. The bunny lay there shivering for a long moment, then forced himself to look Red in the eye but immediately flinched away. Red waited patiently as he tried several more times, and eventually succeeded at maintaining eye contact, although it made him tremble even harder. Red parted his teeth and let his tongue loll out, but the bunny withstood the intimidation. “D-d-don’t eat me,” he stammered out. “I don’t want it!” Red stared at him, sporting his most unnerving grin, then relaxed his expression. “Wow, bunny, you did it. I guess I gotta let ya go then.” He removed his hands from the bunny, but stayed crouched over him, and let his grin turn predatory again. “Hurry up now. Five, four, three, two, one.” The fox counted down quickly, and at first the bunny could only stare up at him, frozen. As Red finished his countdown, the bunny got his feet under him and just managed to launch himself away. But the fox was ready, snatching him mid-jump; he hadn’t intended to let the bunny actually escape. “Aw, too slow,” he said with an air of faux sympathy. “No! That’s not fair! You promised!” The bunny’s objections broke into sobs as Red gave him a couple more firm licks. Red would have answered but he’d pressed the bunny against his tongue and his skull had slid between the fox’s teeth. The bandanna wasn’t anything to write home about, but the bones and fur tasted delightfully of rabbit and fear. He closed his teeth gently on the bunny’s waist, catching some of his cotton-candy tail fur, letting him squirm futilely against his tongue. Red could hear the bunny’s wordless cries of despair echoing within his own skull, but once he started swallowing, they were muffled by the magic of his throat. The bunny squirmed the whole way down. Red found a comfortable patch of grass to lie in and wait it out until he stopped.

Chapter 2

“I got ‘im.” It was good news, but Honey didn’t like the way Red was smiling, as if he’d gotten away with some kind of mischief. “Excellent!” Edge appeared from the kitchen, where he’d been working on one or another of his many projects rather than join Honey in dozing in front of the TV. “I knew you could do it if you just applied yourself. You are a fox, after all.” He paused, one ear flicking. “Where is he?” Red only grinned wider, and both of Edge’s ears started to fold back. “You didn’t.” “Sure I did. What’s wrong with that?” Red pulled his sweater up far enough to reveal a miserable clump of fur and bones curled up inside the translucent flesh of his belly. “Blue!” Honey jumped up in alarm, but there was nothing he could do; he couldn’t even reach Red’s belly properly when the fox was standing. Edge stalked over and grabbed Red unceremoniously by one notched ear. “Look at that, you’ve terrified him! Let him out right now.” “Ow, ow, Boss, I can’t do anythin’ until you let go of my ear.” “Fine.” Edge let go and held out one gloved hand expectantly. Red took a moment, ears back in concentration, and then spat something directly into his brother’s hand. Edge quickly set the miserable scrap of blue and white next to Honey on the couch and stepped back. Honey heard him scolding Red, but was too focused on Blueberry to decipher the words. “Blue! Blue, are you okay?” Honey tried to gently prod Blueberry into uncurling so he could check him over for injuries, but the smaller bunny wouldn’t move. “Blue, listen, you’re all right! Please wake up, Blue!” Honey shook him a little harder than he’d meant to, and at last Blueberry cracked open one eye socket. “No I’m not,” he groaned. “Yes you are,” Honey insisted. “Does it hurt anywhere?” He looked over at Edge, intending to ask for a monster candy. “No—not really. I guess dying doesn’t hurt too much. Or maybe it did and I’ve just forgotten—Honey? Why are you here?” Blueberry relaxed as he was speaking, but didn’t make any attempt to sit up. Honey laughed guiltily. “Ah, that’s a long story, Blue. I’m sorry I worried ya. But more importantly—it’s good to see you again.” Blueberry’s brow knit. “I’m not glad to see you here, Honey. That means the fox was right—you’re dead too.” “What? No, no—who told you that?” Honey shot a glare at Red. “I’m not dead. And neither are you.” “But I remember that I—I remember what happened. And the fox said—he said you were—he said the same thing happened to you. Maybe—maybe it was the same fox.” Blueberry blinked back tears, but a few escaped, carving trails in the residual red magic coating his skull. Honey was a little impressed and alarmed that neither Blueberry nor Edge seemed to care that the translucent slime was all over the bunny and getting on the couch cushion as well. “You told him what?” Edge’s fur bristled with anger as he folded his arms over his chest. “I didn’t—I mean—you know I like the taste of fear,” Red whined, which just made it worse. “Oh, come on, Boss, you did the same thing to Honey when you caught him.” “An oversight on my part,” Edge admitted, “but you should know better than to deliberately terrify him!” “Hey, bunny—what’s his name again?” Red approached the couch. “It’s Blueberry,” Honey snapped, leaning protectively over his brother. “Hey, Blueberry. Sorry I scared ya. Yer not dead though.” Blueberry had tensed up at the sound of the fox’s voice, and now peered at him from behind Honey’s arm. “What—What are you doing here?” “I live here. I just brought ya ta see yer bro.” “This is all my fault.” Honey’s ears sagged. “I shoulda told them not to bring you.” “Wha—? What’s going on?” Blueberry looked from his brother to the fox. “How can he be here too? What happened to him?” “Nothin’ happened to me.” Red grinned, done with contrition. “I told ya, yer not dead.” Blueberry looked to Honey for confirmation, frowning with confusion. “He’s right, you’re not. And neither am I.” “He said you were!” “No I didn’t,” Red corrected him. “I said he got eaten. There’s a difference.” “That doesn’t make sense.” Blueberry glared at the fox. “How could he survive being eaten? And I definitely got—you—you ate me!” “Yeah,” the fox admitted, ears dipping briefly in apology, “but you’re fine, ain’t ya?” Blueberry looked down at himself, noticing the red slime still clinging to him with distaste. “I guess I’m fine aside from being dead, but why do I hafta see YOU even after you killed me?” “Blue, you’re really not dead,” Honey repeated. “You wanna see how a bunny can survive getting eaten?” Red turned to his brother, grinning. Edge hesitantly caught Honey’s eye. “I think that’ll just upset him more,” Honey said firmly. “What if I just explain it all from the beginning?” “Maybe that’s best,” Edge agreed. Red slumped, disappointed. “Blueberry.” Honey moved to block his brother’s view of the foxes, and took one of his hands. “I know I kinda just disappeared on you. It was because I got caught by a fox—Edge, not Red—and, er, I just kinda kept hanging around with him after.” He paused under the weight of the guilt of abandoning his brother like that. Blueberry was still struggling with another aspect of the story. “He ate you?” “Well—yeah, but not in, like, a harmful way. They’re skeletons, so they might drain your magic a bit but they won’t actually hurt you—by eating you.” He supposed the foxes could easily dust the bunnies by other means, if they wanted to, but it didn’t seem like swallowing them whole was an effective way to do it. Blueberry sat up to glare past Honey at Red. “You could have told me that!” Red shrugged. At least he had the decency to appear remorseful. Blueberry turned his attention to Honey again. “But then why didn’t you come back?” Honey tried to sink into his hoodie like a turtle. “I was gonna, but—it’s nice here. The foxes aren’t so bad once you get over the initial shock, there’s plenty of food, and—well, it’s safer. There are a lot worse things to get eaten by out in the forest.” “Blueberry.” Edge approached cautiously, but Blueberry didn’t seem overly afraid. “I must apologize. I should never have entrusted my brother with the task of fetching you.” “Yeah,” Honey grimaced, imagining how much better Edge could have handled the situation himself. “Maybe pouncing is a necessary step for a fox to talk to a rabbit without it running away, but eating you was completely unnecessary, and deliberately scaring and tormenting you was—a serious breach of conduct.” Red grumbled. “It wasn’t as bad as all that.” Blueberry shuddered, but he quickly recovered. “Well—I guess if he’s sorry I can forgive him. He did reunite me with my brother, in the end.” He got to his feet, started to brush off some of the red magic on his clothes, but stopped when he realized that would just make the mess on the couch worse. “Honey? How did you get rid of this slime?” “I’ll help you get cleaned up,” Red said, and Edge’s ears perked up, impressed by the unprompted offer. Blueberry hesitated. “I’ll come too.” Honey could understand why he might not want to be alone with Red, or in fact anywhere near him, but if the fox could make amends, Blueberry might consent to staying, and Honey wouldn’t have to choose between him and Edge. “All right,” Blueberry agreed. Red picked them both up, which made Blueberry flinch and cling to his brother. He watched the fox mistrustfully as Red carried them across the room. “Come on, Blue, I said I was sorry.” Red’s apology hadn’t been sufficient at all, but he did seem to be trying. “It wasn’t THAT bad, was it?” Honey grimaced, expecting the remark to destroy any goodwill the fox had earned from Blueberry. The smaller bunny pressed his face against Honey’s chest, and Honey started to put a comforting arm around him, but froze when Blueberry spoke in a small voice. “I guess—it wasn’t ALL bad.” Honey stroked his brother’s ears. Maybe Blueberry would understand his reasons for staying with Edge after all.