#whatafuckingbabe

[whatsaboomlakalaka]

Hi hello. Can I get a Life With Skye snippet? 👀🙏✨

oh jen i was hoping someone would ask and i should have known it would be you !!!

Derek waking up from his pre-game nap normally times with Skye’s dinner time, so when he walks into the kitchen and finds no sign of either his two-year-old or any indication she’s already eaten he isn’t quite sure what to do with himself. “Hey?” He yells out into the apartment, in lieu of any other plan. “Derek!” Vee immediately yells back from her room, “We’re in here! Come help!” She doesn’t sound panicked, despite the words she’s saying, so Derek doesn’t run down the hall. He does walk pretty fast though. He also doesn’t knock before he enters. There’s clothes everywhere. A pile on the floor amongst strewn, empty hangers. A pile on the chair Violet has in the corner. And two piles on the bed that Skye appears to have turned into some sort of throne for herself. “What are you doing?”  “I have a date and Skye’s helping me choose an outfit.”

❤️

[wanderingpages]

@acourtofstudyingandsuffering, @nitrot150, @foundtheavacados, @justccstuff, @goawayi-mreading, @kickassunicorn, @hoegreenbrair, @sjmsstuff, @feelthismom3nt-blog, @feeoly, @faefromthenorth, @queenofxhearts, @lovemollywho, @velarian-trash, @tessas-herondales, @alissa-kirk, @sophiespievak, @galllatea, @georgialeighc13, @clockworkgraystairs, @pilesofriles, @queentearss, @mustangsally913, @pilesofriles, @fangirlforever0704, @dayanna-hatter, @empress-ofbloodshed, @izou1204, @tintinnabulary, @13luecloud, @furiousflowerponypizza, @bamchickawowow, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @hizqueen4life, @thebookish-fangirl, @judehatescardan, @cardanslittletail, @burninjurdan, @rowaelin-percabeth, @amapformyjourney, @ghostlyrose2, @nephilimlove, @judexcardanxgreenbriar, @charincharge, @flowersinvegas, @selcouthdream, @lizzzziebear, @sleepybabything, @ysitsohardtofindaname, @lahistoriaquenoteconte, @blackjacks-donuts, @sincerelymetoyou, @brit-alltoowell, @poeticbrownmermaid, @aelin-queen-of-terrasen, @flamingliterature, @whatafuckingbabe, @thesirenwashere, @drewstarkeyobx, @dorkzrul, @an-ironic-pisces

.・。.・゜Dark AU ゜・。.

V E R S I O N 2

“It’s you that I’ve been thinking about and I shouldn’t be. You’re cattle waiting for slaughter, baby.”

TFOTA // All Human // AU : Cardan tries not to lust after the girl he's supposed to kill.

Trigger Warnings: Crude language, Drugs, Sex, Murder/Talks of murder, Sexual/Physical Assault.

Jude's POV

“You think I'm weak.”

“You are weak,” I tell her. “You're weak and pathetic and I-”

“I'm a mirror,” she shouts. “I'm the mirror you don't want to look at.”

I wince, her voice sounds like its directly in my eardrums. Angry at me, always so fucking angry. I only tell her the truth, tell her what Dad tells me when we’re alone. It didn’t make sense then, but now I get it. So docile and pitiful, crawling after Locke even after what I tell her he’s done –  with me, let alone someone else.

“You’re so far up Dad’s ass, you’re worse than me. At least I’m trying to leave. So, what if Locke’s my ticket? At least I’m not that fucker’s lapdog.” Then she grins suddenly, looking more like me than she’s ever had before. It’s a slimy smile, that trembles if I look close enough. She’s upset with me, more than she is with Locke. “I wonder if he’s put you up to this. If he’s playing another game. If you’ll even remember this after you see him tonight.” She laughs but it sounds choked. “God, Jude. I almost feel sorry for you.” It feels like a dream for a moment, until the ache in my chest convinces me this is a memory. I guess she had been right, I did forget this altercation.

It took a knife to her throat to remind me what a despicable bitch I’ve been trained to be. Something rough wipes at the corner of my eye. I must be crying. I try to move my hands but they feel stiff. I think I’ve passed the state of panic in my stasis. I wonder how long I’d last like this. It’s stifling, like there’s a weight compressing my ribs. My fingers twitch until I can finally lift my wrists. It takes me a moment to realize that they’re moving in tandem because of the Zip tie. I’m a little offended that he hadn’t taken it off of me, probably opening wounds that were on their way to healing.

Something tickles my cheek, and a slow rumbling sound not only fills my ears, but trembles against my skin. My nose wrinkles and I open my eyes, unsurprised to still be in Cardan’s bed. The heaviness in my chest does not subside and for some reason it makes me panic. I try to lift up, a strangled noise leaving my throat. I feel groggy.

“Hey,” hands come to my shoulder, helping me up and propping pillows behind me. The weight on my chest lifts, only to press four paws deep into my skin. A fat black cat meows as it arches it’s back in a stretch before jumping off. I watch, almost in a daze, as it saunters over to a familiar pair of legs, rubbing itself between Cardan’s feet before exiting the room.

I look up to Cardan, who looks incredibly distant for some reason, then I look to Ghost who had been the one to help me up. “Was… that a… cat?” It’s hard to form sentences, my mouth feels like it doesn’t want to work. “Did you… drug me?” My eyes search for Cardan again, brows furrowing in confusion “You… have… a cat?” for some reason, this tidbit of information is hard for me to grasp.

Cardan shrugs, not moving from his spot, “I like pussy.”

I blink, taking him in. He’s wearing a different shirt from what I recall. It’s short-sleeved and black and says something in the center that makes me think about PSA i had to sit through as a kid. How much time had passed, I wonder, for him to change clothes? A few hours? A few days?

“Huh?” I manage when I realize what he’s just said. Ghost’s snort is the only indication I hadn’t made that up.

“I’m no Valerian, but I would guess you had a seizure,” Ghost tells me, “but like the NEAD kind. I would know if you have epilepsy,” he says, but when he talks it feels like my head is under water. I guess I’m no Valerian either, but I don’t think loss of consciousness due to NEAD lasts as long as it feels it did. I rub the sides of my thumbs to my forehead.

“What… did you… give me?” I'm very conscious of my own heartbeat and it suddenly starts to overwhelm me.

“Something I found in Valerian’s shit. He said it was fine. Might have been a high dose of some acetaminophen.” He looks away when he mumbles, "I could have also been Fentanyl."

I drag my hands to my chest, the intense thumping makes the whole room shake, and my vision get blurrier at each punch. I close my eyes but that seems to make it worse. “Won’t stop…beating…”

“I mean, I would hope so,” Ghost sounds confused but when I look up, it’s Cardan who’s face shows concern. I think the look on his face makes my heart beat ten times faster. I almost don’t see him move to place his hand on the back of my neck. If I had just came back from some dissociative seizure, Cardan might just give me cardiac arrest next. Maybe because his proximity, maybe because I think he can genuinely snap my neck in one go. His long fingers work quickly, finding pressure points and pressing them down before I can even protest.  

No forgotten memories resurface this time, or if they do, they’ve retreated into the void that is my mind. I stare up at the ceiling when I come to.  They’re very high, I note uselessly. Lazily I turn my head to the side, finding Cardan slowly stroking at a ball of black fur in his lap, resembling an old Hollywood villain. “This is Elvira.”

Its only when I prop myself onto my elbow that I realize it’s the wrong hand to put any weight on – Valerian’s medication must have worn off –  and that I’m no longer bound at the wrist. “You have a cat,” I croak out, trying to mask the pain in my arm.

Cardan’s lips quirk but his eyes look incredibly distant.  “We’ve been through this, baby.”

“Right,” I whisper, shutting my eyes to backtrack to events prior to this moment. “…Pussy,” I recall, but unable to get all the right words out.

“You are what you eat,” He mumbles, letting out a short huff of a laugh. He’s expressionless, and I think it’s a bit more endearing than when he looks at me like he’s trying to figure me out. It feels like I can breathe a little easier around him. He makes me nervous – since that night at the party when he looked like an angel in the shadows. Dad always said the prettiest angels were the ones to fall first.

I drop back against the sheets, groaning on impact but not equipped to do much more. I try to take in the room but I cant seem to grasp what I'm seeing. There's a crystal chandelier hanging at the center of the ceiling, I guess I never really looked up to notice it. It casts opalescent rainbows across the wall, convincing me I'm seeing the thin veil obscuring heaven. Upwards of 8k, I guess. I close my eyes, feeling like I’m floating. I touch at the sheets beneath me, gripping the material between my fingers. It's something so soft and silky and unexpected for Cardan. New Money, right. I guess he hadn’t lied that night.

“She’s not dead,” I whisper, finally, finding a thread to pick at. “Taryn – my sister.” It’s a presumption, but I would have known if something had happened to her, wouldn’t I? “Extrasensory perception.” It’s too quiet for a long while, so I turn my head and peer at Cardan. I’m surprised to find him staring back at me, with a look I hadn’t seen before. Something dark and bottomless. Like he's looking at me but he's so far in his own head. “I should contact her.”

Cardan’s lips are thin and he tilts his head to take me in. “No…” he drawls it out, and maybe he isn’t really responding to me at all. The cat – Elvira – jumps off his lap, mewling and stretching before strolling to the slightly ajar door, exiting the room. Cardan hardly acknowledges this, only reaches over to the nightstand and picks up a small glass of water. It must have been sitting out for some time because fat drops of condensation beads over his fingers.

“No?” I repeat, using my unhurt arm to help me lift from the bed. I frown, thinking he couldn’t be this cruel to me after the video we had just seen. Just a short call to hear her voice, maybe. “Car -”

“Drink this first,” he cuts me off. “Your voice is dry. Its…grating.” He leans closer to me, resting his elbows at his knees and I take the cup from him, startled by how badly my hand shakes trying to get the rim to my mouth. Cool water drips down to my thighs, and I'm reminded of the lack of clothing I’m actually wearing.

When half the contents are gone, I try again. “Taryn…” I flinch when the image of a knife to her throat comes to mind. In my imagination, her eyes open and she stares directly at me. I feel uneasy as I place a hand to my own neck, tracing phantom marks the knife would have made if it had been pressed deeper. “She’s in trouble – I can’t just – she…” my nails dig into my skin, as I begin to feel dry heaves start to tickle the back of my throat.

“Ghost is on her. She’s fine. She doesn’t seem to know what’s happening, or she shouldn’t know that you know, at least, that it was a set up.” My brows furrow, wondering why he’s insinuating that she may have something to do with this. "And Jude? it really was a setup." He says it so matter-of-factly, his nonchalance making my skin start to heat with frustration. “Anyways, it’s not like you actually care. Did you even know she’s back from her little trip abroad? In fact, she’s been back for some days now. You haven’t made an international call in five weeks – I’m willing to bet the last one wasn’t even to Taryn.” My eyes cut to him when he says her name. My grip on the glass tightens. I feel something awful take precedence in my emotions. I don’t like him saying her name, I realize. I’m too focused on that to really grasp that my sister might have set me up. That she’s weaseled her way into Dad’s little game – if Dad even has anything to do with this.

No - it can’t be. Taryn would never stoop lower than me, and I’ll admit I’ve stooped low enough to lick the dirt. She’s the good one. “She – Cardan, she had a knife to her throat and you’re telling me I can’t contact her?” My voice runs off in the end, pitching higher before disappearing before the end of the sentence and I try not to let that stun me. I clear my throat and try to center myself, look at the water in my hands, try to count except I can’t remember the order of numbers for some reason. It makes my breaths come faster because I’m so utterly aware how not right this is. I try to fixate on his words recall what he’s said. My brows furrow when I pick at something I shouldn’t even be surprised about, “You… you went through my phone records?” The skin around my knuckles feel tight in the hand that holds the glass. I feel like one wrong move and it would shatter in my hands. I’m just so…angry, and I can’t even really pin point why. It feels like I’m grasping at anything to justify my mood, my turmoil.

Cardan eyes my cup, just as unmoved as before and that makes me even more agitated. “Of course, I did.” There’s a ringing in my ears, and the flush in my face feels akin to a fever. My eyes feel so heavy but nothing stops the array of emotions catching up to me. “I don’t think you know how far I’d go…” he trails off like there’s more to be said, and maybe there is. “Just needed to call a bluff,” he settles on, shrugging and it makes me furious.

“A bluff?” I blink, my eyes going wide and when I make eyes contact, he looks away first, leaning back on that stupid chair like he hasn’t got a care in the fucking world. “Men came into my house and tried to kill me,” I seethe, close to yelling now, “I was held at gun point!” It’s the cocktail of drugs I’ve been given, I try to rationalize, “That wasn’t a bluff and you knew! You knew, Cardan! You came in to save me, because you knew they’d kill me,” I'm breathing more shallow, trying to convince him, it seems, that my life is in danger and there’s a girl out there who looks exactly like me.

“Jude,” he says my name in a tone so commanding, it makes me pause. “They wouldn’t have killed you. I guess your pretty ass clouded my judgment because I shouldn’t have ran into save you. You’re probably more of a danger to them than the other way around.” This time, when he smiles, it hurts, because it’s so mocking…knowing, almost. “Is that how Daddy likes to play? Does our holy Father like to throw darts at you to watch you duck them? Or does he expect you to stand and take it, to pay for your sins?”

Without realizing it, I’m standing upright, feeling like there’s a hell in my veins waiting to be unleashed. Later, I’ll wonder how it was ever possible for me to suppress these intense reactions almost all my life. Cardan tilts his head back, staring at me warily, but not worried and I think to myself that maybe he should have kept my hands bound. Cardan raises a brow, “Did I trigger something, Jude?” My fingers flex, the tip of my middle finger finding where Cardan’s metaphor strikes too close to home.

“Fuck you,” I grit. And to my annoyance he laughs.

“Tell me,” he says, “What’s your form of torture, baby? I guarantee whatever you think will hurt me is nothing compared to what I’ve already been through.” I don’t mean to, but my eyes skim his bare arms, finding those small little round scars. I count them, partially pleased I know how to count again, partially disgusted by how many I’ve counted. ��He motions me over with a flick of his wrist, “Come here, princess. Go ahead and break the glass. Take a shard and write your name in my skin.” I don’t even mean to move forward but its already too late to backtrack when Cardan grabs my wrist and pulls me on to him. Water splashes over us and he takes the near empty cup from my hand. His free hand finds the palm of mine, thumb going for a round wound at the center, silently telling me whatever I’ve noticed about him, he’s ten steps ahead in regards to me.

He tilts the cup then taps it against the corner of the night table, once, twice – it splinters, then cracks. He holds the fractured glass between us, offering it to me. “You’re real sick, you know that?” I grit, instead of playing his game.

He pulls my hand, I topple closer to him. We’re a breath apart and it's more intimate than I'd like to acknowledge. His eyes blaze like there’s a fire within. It’s going to consume him, I realize. Consume us. His demeanor no longer caries a façade of nicety or indifference. He’s angry, and it’s directed at me. His grip on my hand hurts, “How do you know Sophie?” He asks me slowly. My heart feels heavy. I furrow my brows, getting so exhausted of that name being mentioned.

“I don’t fucking know her,” I whisper. He doesn't believe me and it angers me. It angers me even more that in the back of my mind, I know he shouldn't believe me at all; I dont even believe myself most of the time anyways. He asks me again, hand on mine squeezing the red marks on my wrist. I react. I reach between us and break off piece of the glass. He looks pleased.

"Do it," he dares me. "Do you want me to hold your hand? I like it when you're all batshit like this. Lets me know you got some type of self preservation." He holds my hand to the side of his cheek. "How'd you meet? Camp?" It tickles something in my memory but I dont let him know. "What was she like back then?"

“Why would I know anything about your dead. Ex. Girlfriend?” I press the jagged end of the shard against his skin, but he doesn’t budge. He holds me in place though and I'm very much warned that I'm only doing as much as he's letting me.

“Careful,” he tells me, and I don’t know if he means with what I’m saying or what I’m doing.

I dig the tip deeper, a bloom of ruby leaks onto the glass. My palm gets clammy at the sight. I’m so out of bounds. His feelings for his ex are valid, of course, but when it comes to my feelings about my sister - that shit is just collateral? “Where’s my fucking sister, you entitled piece of shit?”

He lets loose my hand, watching me with, letting me drag the edge down his jaw. “Dead," he whispers, "for all I fucking care,” he says, like he knows I can’t go further than this small scrape, that I can’t stab his jugular like I'm given ample opportunity to. I drop the glass in the cup before grabbing the whole thing from his hand and flinging it to the side. There’s so much force in the throw that it shatters against the far wall.

“Did that make you feel better?” He’s placating me. He pulls me on top of him, my knees bracketing either side of him. He takes hold of my wrists, guiding them behind my back. He restrains them with one hand, the other warms on the side of my leg, slowly moving up until his fingers disappear beneath the hem of the shirt he had lent me. “Now that we’re done with the foreplay,” his finger digs into the back of my thigh, and my back arches as if pushing myself closer against him. “Settle,” he tells me.

I’m taken aback, but I do, I settle, resting my stance, letting him guide me to fully sit on his lap. “Fuck you,” I bite out.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, lifting his hand then slapping it against my inner thigh. I let out a startled yelp, but he lets go of my wrists to hold my cheeks, squeezing them uncomfortably tight, halting any noise I want to make. “And don’t fucking talk to me about entitlement, Jude Duarte.” It’s the first time he’s said my full name and for some reason that unnerves me more than what I saw in that video. He rubs at the sting in my thigh, and gently releases my mouth, sliding his hand down to my neck. I realize how easily he could encase my throat and squeeze it until I take my last breath. I realize just how much of my life Cardan has in the palm of his hands.

“Sorry,” I whisper, feeling like I’ve been here before, apologizing like this when I really didn’t want to. It reminds me of how even though I thought I’ve been in control of my life these past months, it’s only a fraction of what I’ll never have visceral autonomy over.

My hands move on their own accord, settling on his shoulder and at the side of his cheek. My thumb swipes at the blood there. “Sorry,” I whisper again, more sincere, now, transfixed on the blooming red on my finger.  Have I ever even swatted a fly, I wonder to myself. Yet I feel the heavy metal of gun in my hand and I wonder how I know where the safety even is, how it feels to squeeze a trigger and why I could have pointed the barrel to Cardan and be absolutely sure I could take him. I feel what’s it’s like to lift a cross bow and aim it where I want it to go. And maybe I never swatted a fly, but I can’t tell myself I’ve never hurt someone.

He tilts his head into my palm, just slightly, but it makes the air in the room still. “I get it,” he admits, “You’re scared.” I'm petrified. I don’t like being so aware. I'm shaking, I'm nauseous, I want to be swallowed into a black hole.  

“Of course I am,” I manage, trying to focus on his hands, the heat searing into my skin, dipping from my neck to trace at my collarbone, absently, almost. It’s like he’s replaced his pretty cat with me. “ – we don’t talk… you know that… but that doesn’t mean it didn’t freak me out, seeing a knife to her throat.”  I sound rehearsed even to my ears. I want so badly to be worried about my sister.

“Not her throat,” he tells me. “You were scared of seeing a knife to your throat. It’s like looking in a mirror, isn’t it?” when he glances up at me, he’s daring me to refute it. He leans closer to me, roaming that hand at my thigh to the small of my back, holding me securely as his breath hits my ear, “You saw yourself in her.”

His nose tickles at my earlobe. “What about you?” I counter, “You were just as stunned. Do you see yourself in her, too?”

His lips press into my neck. I can feel the stretch of a smile imprint into my skin. “No,” his words vibrate against my flesh, mending with my already strumming pulse. “But I do see myself in you.” He bites down and my fingers squeeze his skin.

“Ah!” I gasp out, ashamed that I can’t help but pull him closer to me. There’s a prickling sensation when he releases me, pulling at my flesh as he goes. It’s like heat and cold fighting to be more dominant than the other. Cardan leans back, taking my hand that had been on his cheek. He smiles charmingly. I say, “you’re a dick.”

He takes my thumb, guiding it to his lips, “Yeah,” he replies. “That part, specifically.” He sucks on my finger, ridding the blood from my prints.  “Are you good now? Tantrum over?” My eyes narrow, but I nod my head just slightly. “Good. I’m going to tell you a secret, okay?”  he waits for me to nod again. I place my hand on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart, steady, compared to mine, but soothing nonetheless. “Your sister is fine. Taryn is more than likely aware of everything. That video was for me, not you. Following?” His finger rubs at the mark he gave me, then follows a stray tendril of hair, trailing the curl before wrapping it around his finger.

My brows furrow, “How – why?” Taryn hates me, but not enough to want me dead, right? At least, I don’t think she has a lot of pull to get me on a hitlist. “You?”

He nods his head, “This is the secret part. When Sophie died, someone sent me a photo of a knife to her throat while she was asleep. The knife is the same, the angle of the photo matches the angle of the video, hell, I bet even the REM cycle is in parallel. I was late. When I got in, she wasn’t just dead, Jude. Her body wasn’t even recognizable." He stares off, holding back a lot more of what he saw. It takes him a minute to talk again. "I haven’t slept properly since I’ve met you, you know.” It seems like he’s going on a tangent. “I started seeing Sophie in my dreams again.” He smiles absently, twisting my hair between his finger. “She’s my favorite haunting, you know,” he says. “Don’t tell, Ghost.” Cardan tugs at the lock slightly, coiling it tightly around his finger. “Those pretty green eyes slowly started turning this unnerving golden color, and when I took a step back, her hair seemed darker, skin got darker, freckles disappeared...”

My mouth feels dry, recalling the image I had imagined earlier. When Taryn opened her eyes in my day dream, they were mine looking back at me. I suppose I’m fairly easy to read if Cardan had clocked that before me. I glance down at his shirt, feeling uneasy about his confession. I don’t want to hear it, don’t want to hear how the love of his life was brutally murdered. Don't want to hear him re-imagine her as me. I take in the letters at the center of his shirt. D. A. R. E. I grimace from the irony. Drug Abuse Resistance Education, or D.A.R.E, is an education program that seeks to prevent use of controlled drugs, membership in gangs, and violent behavior.

“I shouldn’t have rescued you,” he tells me.

“I would have been their hostage, anyways” I let him know.

His grin is wry, “You’re still hostage.” He shrugs, “Maybe I’m the lesser evil – but don’t forget that, Jude. I'm not the good guy here. Im still one of your villains.” Fuck butterflies, when Cardan speaks to me, there’s moths infested in my stomach, eating away at my insides.

“What have you gotten yourself into,” I murmur, tapping at a spot on his chest I know a quote should be. “Wouldn’t it be easier to kill me now?”

“Maybe.” He sighs, “But I want to see this through. Somehow, you’ve gotten into my head and under my skin. I’m more worried about someone else killing you now. Is that selfish? That I keep thinking, if anything, it should be me, right? I should be the one to kill you, just so no one else can." He grins crookedly, it does something to the moths. "And I’m telling you these crazy fucked up things, but I bet if I slipped my hand further up your thigh, get them between your legs, you’d be soaking wet, wouldn’t you?” My eyes widen. “You’re more fucked than me,” he tells me. “And it’s kind of intriguing.”

“Cardan…”

“Go put some pants on, I want to take you somewhere.”

“No handcuffs?” I say, dubiously.

Offhandedly, he replies, “I’m thinking about a leash.”

I blink, “That’s kind of fucked up.”

He raises his brow, “Everything that I’ve ever said to you and that’s what you pick at?”

“Seems like cruel and unusual punishment,” I try. Tied to the bed, drugged, held at gun point. What’s a choker around my neck? proclamation or

“Maybe a collar. You’d like that, I promise.” I frown, shakily getting off of him. What he's really saying without actually saying is that whoever is after me, has been after him for far longer. Maybe he wants to know more than I do, how exactly we’re connected.

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Masterlist

[realrollypratt]

⭐️director cut⭐️ you think im going to ask about sweet talk because im biased af... but nope. Tell me about Dont Blame Me

Lmaoooo I swear I didn’t even think it!!!

So I’ve put a note at the beginning of Don’t Blame Me that it is adapted from something Krewlak and I wrote a while ago - it’s actually adapted from a roleplay that we did circa… what? 2014? (just like Stripper Casey, except SC is a word by word transcript, and DBM I have completely re-written). The roleplay was actually filthier than my version I think? 😅 But it came down to the writing style I went for in my adaptation, which you may have noticed isn’t quite as explicit as my other works. The main lines remain the same though, the story, the characters. I’m pretty sure Krewlak (@thelodgelodge) should get the credit for creating Jared honestly, he’s such a good asshole villain. I basically just stole him.

There was actually a whole part in the original between Derek’s memory being erased and their second reunion where Casey watched him and he was doing well and dating someone else, but I decided to put the focus on Casey’s feelings about having Jared around again (whom, now that I think about it, originally possibly only showed up later on in the story? Woof, it’s been a while) and also that adding another love interest complicated things beyond what I was ready to commit for 😅

This is also one that I have really enjoyed writing because I made the choice of only showing Casey’s pov, while she is a vampire with very little humanity left? This has actually led to some great discussions with @untoldgalaxies (and is also pretty much how we met and bonded?) about how the reader really empathizes more with Derek even though we never get to see his pov, and how he is probably the only link she has left to her humanity - and how that translates to a kind of toxic and possessive obsession.

Honestly, if you were interested I totally suggest reading Taylor’s comments on DBM because they were such in depth analysis of this universe that I don’t actually spend all that much time explaining in the fic itself lol.

[pichitinha]

For the fanfic ask tag- A: How do you come up with titles, in general? (Titles are so hard for me!)

oh god titles are SO hard for me too! titles and endings are my undoing in terms of fics

i'd say that like 98% of my fic titles are song lyrics, with a few exceptions when a specific theme of the fic fits (like "carte blanche" for example which i thought was a good name)

what i do is i finish the fic and have it completely ready to go and then i sulk and go search for the title

usually my process is: open spotify and open all of my favorites bands and read the song titles until i think one could fit into my story, so i open the lyrics and see if any lines fit and would be good as a title (like "in this world there's only you" which is from a song that i think fits very well)

sometimes i can't find anything like that so i just look for my favorite songs by those artists, even if the song doesn't fit the story, and see if a single line can make sense (like "so we can go back and play pretend" which is from my favorite fob song which doesn't fit at all with the story)

and sometimes it's not one of my favorite bands but it's a song i really like and have been thinking while writing (like "lift your open hand" bc it's literally a fic about kissing and i had to use kiss me)

sometimes it's a concoction of all three

tl;dr i just steal song lyrics and hope they fit well into my story and it's all a huge mess lmao

[adoreyouxx3-blog]

@whatafuckingbabe @lauren-almos @poncysh-t @alyssaacurraoo 

Ray-Ban Sunglasses

[whatsaboomlakalaka]

alright alright alright alright

Tagged by @fleurywiththesave!

Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs.

lol ok. so.

alphabetical order. fandom in brackets,,, (if its hrpf its absolutely mattdrai). also some of these like belong together in the same world and i have not marked that at all :)))) i'm feral

5 + 1 being caught caramecaeli  (d20 - acoc) bad kids at pride (d20 - fantasy high) blue and bluer (hrpf) blue and bluer TBC (hrpf) caramel waves (d20 - acoc) Castle AU - Dasey (lwd) chap 03 - freshman year [untagged] (lwd) dasey exchange 2022 (lwd) dating app mattdrai (hrpf) Dear Penelope (bridgerton) fig etc (prepared for rain) (d20 - fantasy high) france 2k27 [bridgerchuk] (hrpf) L. I. F. E. W. I. T. H. L. U. C. A. (lwd) L. I. F. E. W. I. T. H. S. K. Y. E. pt 4 (lwd) LA Kings Fic (lwd) lazuli (caramelinda) mind dump (d20 - acoc) mattdrai get together notes (hrpf) not NOT a bridgerton au [aka bridgerchuk] (hrpf) on the rocks (d20 - acoc) prompt 181021 (lwd) prompt NEXT (hrpf) rangers!derek (lwd) sandra lynn biopic (d20 - fantasy high) scenes for iris (hrpf) tennis au (hrpf) the last five years (lwd) tkachuk tkollection service (hrpf) two men and a little lady (hrpf)

dasey fam i've not included anything i've posted to my draft ditch on ao3 even tho those are technically also wips in this folder lol

absolutely refusing to tag as many people as i have wips for obvious reason. selecting across fandoms... @betanoiz @wingedflame @puckthisshift @kairos44 @grantairesbottle @folklauerate @whatafuckingbabe @isalovesslowburn

[realrollypratt]

⭐️director cut⭐️ this may be cheating but the Pirate AU sitting in your docs 👀

I don’t know what you’re talking about!!!

Ok I do, but did I not give you access to my doc??? I thought I did???

Warning: it’s a brain dump. It’s all very stupid and embarrassing. Also spoilers (really really spoilers!)

[pichitinha]

Hello sunshine! Please tell me about “forget potion” 👀

oh absolutely!

so a while back my best friend @vickytokio​ sent me a text in a frantic saying they had a very weird dream, explained it in very good details, and said they needed a fic with it, any couple

at the time i couldn't picture it but i've started to try to shape it for covinsky. basically it's like regular world and all but there's a potion that you can take when you break up/divorce etc to forget the person (at various levels, forgetting them completely, forgetting just the romantic part, etc). vicky gave a very specific plot which is what they dreamt had happened with them and their husband, and i'm not sure that's what i'm going with, but the whole idea has been floating on my mind since

won't say more bc it's very drafty yet and also i don't wanna spoil it, but that's the general concept

ask me about a draft!

read my posted fics

[undercover-underdog]

I forgot that I snuck a picture to myself on snapchat. Goddamn. ;) #whatafuckingbabe

[royceburke]

This is my love. Being the crazy beautiful, wild creature she is 😍 Giving me butterflies like a kid 9 years later #holyshit #whatafuckingbabe #bigdickshouseofbigboobs #classicbeauty

[munchindeanspies]

Okay so I went to high school a block away from that park and it’s literally an oval so he was legit following it in the circle @whatafuckingbabe stuy park lol

i literally can’t stop thinking about this video and i lose it every time

[slutzville]

❤️ I can't wait to be married to this sweet sweet love. #slt #longboards #punk #queer #whatafuckingbabe #drunkenadventures

[honeyteabb]

the win-me-over trifecta: tall, winning personality and billion dollar smile, his bebbies r gonna be adorbz #whatafuckingbabe #misshim #worktakesmeawayandmakesmesotired :(

[munchindeanspies]

Agree 100%

@whatafuckingbabe

Do u not like Dylan anymore?

wouldn’t say dislike, just dont support him anymore 

[bbyjacks]

#wcw #goddamn #whatafuckingbabe

[littlepinkbby]

Jenna Russell though 😚 #whatafuckingbabe (at St. James Theatre)