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meetmeatthecoda · 3 years ago

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(star emoji) for Grifting With The Enemy :D

Pumpkin!! 🧡🧡🧡 Hello, my dear friend, thank you so much for your endless interest & support!! 😍😍 And for giving me a reason to re-read GWTE, which I haven't done for a loooong time!! 😂😬 (But, the good news is, it low-key got me inspired to hurry up & finish it!! 😏) BUT - in the meantime - here's some BTS info from my re-read under the cut, which is a lot - fair warning - since it's a 4 chapter fic & counting!! ❤️

LOL I forgot how stressful it is coming up with names for random extra people in fics, I hate doing that LOL But I did think it was important to open with Red NOT being a merciless crime lord who kills anyone who displeases him, cause - while he does have that side to him when necessary - that's not who Red is or wants to be.

I liked including that little moment with Red & Dembe about the parallel parking. I love those father/son & brotp moments for them, they're just the best. I tried to sprinkle those in wherever I could in Red's POV in this fic.

I loved the mental picture of Liz - with glasses & beanie a la The Harem - just leaning casually against a bookshelf the first time Red sees her... & he's immediately captivated, just like in canon. Especially with her eyes, I can't NOT write any version of Red that is not completely blown away by Liz's eyes, I mean, come on I also thought it was important that he thinks she's much younger than she is (intentionally part of her persona) & I'm looking forward to writing the reveal of her true age in a later chapter.

I loved writing a Liz that instantly challenges Red, already having heard about him (& more than that, as revealed in chapter 2) & point blank telling him she may refuse the job bc she has a say too. I liked keeping - & even amplifying a little - that dynamic from canon!Liz of always surprising Red & keeping him on his toes, all while he's trying so desperately to stay ahead of her & impress her.

I LOVED writing the brush pass scene - that moment where Red realizes he has officially underestimated her - & LOL I completely forgot I wrote that part about the condom LMFAO wow past!Coda, mighty daring of you 😂😂😂

Plus, I couldn't help the bonus bit about her stealing his phone & tossing it to him to end the chapter, that was just so fun to throw in there!!

I liked opening chapter 2 with Red still thinking about Liz, just to show how she captured his attention, even before he finds out she's been stealing from him. And I liked writing that revelation without any anger on his part, with him understanding it wasn't a full-scale attack on his empire, she's just a thief taking well paying jobs where she can get them, & instead it just shows him how talented she is. I thought that was an important thing to clarify before moving forward.

I LOVED writing Red & Dembe surprising Liz in her apartment, especially the part with Red's snooping & being confused & surprised by what he sees there. I loved kind of creating/designing Liz's apartment to showcase her true self, not her "young thief" persona that Red falls for at first. I wanted it to be clear that Red is fascinated by her seeming duality from the start (canon LOL) as well as just straight-up attracted to her (also canon LMAO).

Also I gave Liz a loft apartment cause I've always loved those!!

And I LOVEDDD writing Red super confident about surprising her & looking forward to taking her off guard by settling in on the couch & all that macho man stuff, only to be rendered fucking dumbstruck when she comes downstairs with no pants on lmfao & I included that little detail of her usually wearing a knife on her leg to show she's not to be underestimated 😏 & I couldn't help but throw in there Dembe kicking the back of the couch, that made me cackle lmfao

I think the truce was important to establish asap bc I didn't want any secrets or lingering animosity between them. That's for canon 😒 Only flirting & sexual tension here, thank you very much.

I had to include Red being a gentleman & asking if she wanted to get dressed, but I also couldn't resist Liz being confident & careless about it, while still hiding tactfully behind the counter. I thought that was a cute exchange.

lmfao of course, I included their coffee preferences being noticed by the other, I think that's an obligatory thing in any Lizzington fic ever, I'm so guilty of that lmfao

I loved the idea of Red being ready to start on a classic Red's Blacklister Presentation but Liz once again stops him in his tracks (while still secretly being impressed by his presence, of course, & I even accidentally switched POVs for no reason to include that?? nice Coda lmfao) as well as trading barbs & quips with him while Red feels awful & guilty at any accidental slights bc he can't bear to insult her.

AM&R vs. AR&M whoops typo lol

I liked the little snippet of dark!Red we see in their conversation of consequences for his enemies, that way Liz sees a little bit of what he's capable of & Red sees how she's not phased by it.

And that last little flirtation & wink to finish the chapter - lol can't resist

Ooooh, I loved switching to Liz's POV (fully ha) for chapter 3, I enjoyed describing how head over heels she is for Red already, that was fun. I liked writing about her lil movie day & chores she's completed, as well as fleshing out her AU past a little with Sam & her young grifting experiences. And her burning her popcorn while daydreaming about Red cause... same 😏

Ooooh, phone conversations are always so fun to write between them, I love trying to get that perfect mix of joking & sincerity & flirting & pining & pressing the phone close to their ear.

I thought it was important to keep (or rather re-invent, since TPTB seemed to drop it like a hot potato 😒😒😒) Liz's intense interest & respect for psychology, especially as a reason for being attracted to Red, since it kind of mirrors one facet of his interest in her. Not to mention Red thinks at first that it's just a useless, do nothing degree for her LOL

Ohhh, I loved establishing that mutual respect & friendliness between Liz & Dembe early on, that's such a fave of mine, I've always loved their friendship & thought it had a lot of potential. Liz loves & respects Dembe for keeping Red safe & Dembe loves & respects Liz for being so dear to Red.

Ugh, I LOVED writing Liz so completely disarmed by Red's relative state of undress at his safe house (paralleling her pants-less parade in chapter 2, of course) bc sameeeeeeee girl.

I also had fun writing Red blabbing on about some story as he often does, meanwhile Liz has already picked the lock on the safe, once again impressing & surprising him while she admires his different passport pics. That was so fun.

And I loved the quick shift to just a little animosity between them with Red insulting her lockpicks & Liz flaunting her thefts from him. I think those little spats give a little electricity & tension to the relationship, even if they blown over quickly, which they always do. And the fact that Red apologizes & they shake hands & make up is very refreshing to me (since they never fucking do it in canon lol fml) & also it's an excuse to write a little teasing physical contact & sexual tension 😁😁😁

And damn, I forgot how fun it is to throw a little teasing jab in there at the end of a chapter, just for fun - probably bc I'm allergic to multi-chapter fics & never write them lmfao wow

Ahhhhhhhh. I remember how much fun I had writing this whole restaurant scene, partly bc it was a difficult & long process (trying not to make all the flirting & physical movements repetitive while fitting in all the necessary dialogue in a semi-non-boring way lol) but also bc it was so fun writing their back-and-forth while seated at a table alone with nowhere else to go & nothing to distract them. I also wanted to take the opportunity to show Red's genuine interest in her as a person & let them spend some quality time together for the first time. I loved the idea of them losing track of time & Dembe having to come interrupt them with a knowing smirk. Also I def referred to the Olive Garden website for the food they ate cause I'm lame lmfaooo

I thought it was cute to throw in that Liz almost couldn't find Red when she arrived but for the fedora marker he placed out for her & then when she's leaving, she can feel his gaze on her the whole way out. Little parallels like that are my guilty pleasure 😁

Omggg I forgot about the end of this chapter, I remember I wanted Red to surprise Liz yet again & I thought the dessert snuck into her bag was a cute touch. Plus, tiramisu is a favorite of mine 😋 I also tried to make the vibe of this phone call a little softer & more tentative, not so much on tender hooks with lots of tension as the previous ones have been, showing how they're getting used to each other & falling in love at a break neck pace lol

Welp, that's all 4 chapters that are posted buttttttttt a sneaky look at my document that I haven't opened for an embarrassingly long timeeeeeee shows my sketch for the rest of the fic which revealssssss....... a detailed 10 chapter map with an epilogue!! Wow, I forgot I sketched everything out in such detail, this isn't too bad, maybe I should actually write this 😂😂😂 And I promise I will, hopefully sooner rather than later!! ❤️❤️❤️

Well, there you go, Pumpkin, I hope that didn't take you too long to slog through & there was something enjoyable in there for you!! 😂 Thank you so much for your interest again, my lovely friend, & getting me excited about this fic again!! 🥰 Much love to you, always, Pumpkin!! 🧡

Fanfic Writers: Director's Cut

#The Blacklist #Lizzington #fanfic #Grifting With The Enemy #ask games #fanfic writers: director's cut #mine #ask #codewordpumpkin #thank you again my friend!!#:D #i hope you enjoy this #:)#much love!!#<3

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paipayaseeds · 4 years ago

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(idk if there was a certain person supposed to be at the door i don’t remember the game oops so i just picked kaede bc they need the cameras or some shit idk)(also there’s alcohol in this so if that’s not okay pls tell me to rewrite it or just end it if you want to! i just want to make sure ur okay dandbrjsjnfndan)(also idk man i only have one experience drinking vodka and i hated it so if it’s weird that’s why LMAOFIDJDJ)

waking up with a gasp, she looked up at the monitor mounted to the wall of her room. she winced at the loud volume of the speakers, and at the unnecessary reminder that her life would be cut short tomorrow night. when the tv turned back off, the uneasy feeling in her chest lingered; there wasn’t anybody there to hold her and tell her ‘it’s okay, it’s just the announcement...’ her arm was asleep, and when she looked down, she was hit with yet another reminder of how alone she was, met with the sight of a detective’s jacket... but no detective.

for a good half hour, she tossed and turned on her mattress trying to fall asleep, but to no avail. once she spent the night with shuichi, there was no way she’d be able to spend another one alone again. so, she got up and took a warm shower: one last attempt at relaxing herself enough to fall asleep. (she wasn’t a stinky little bitch-baby like shuicheese across the building). she didn’t care about her face, she wouldn’t have to see it for much longer anyway. she brushed her teeth and combed her hair before changing into some clean clothes. she was going to slip under blanket until she noticed the uniform still sitting there. i should... give it back. it was really just an excuse to go to shuichi’s room. she folded it over her arms and walked over to his door, leaving her mask in her room since everyone would be in theirs anyway. once she got there, though, she couldn’t bring herself to knock. instead, she just stood there with her knuckles barely brushing against the door while she was frozen. eventually, she backed up and folder the clothes neatly and placed them on the floor right in front of his door for him to pick up in the morning.

she managed to get a little shut-eye during the night, but not much. she let out a loud groan at the morning announcement before dragging herself out of bed and cleaning herself up for the day. that included putting on her mask. despite it only being two days, out of habit she waited for shuichi to come and walk with her. but, when she stood outside her door and noticed kaede knocking at his door, holding the clothes she had left there last night, she realized that wouldn’t be happening today. she shook her head before heading out the door and towards the dining hall.

when she arrived, she walked into a very weird conversation. rantaro and ryoma seemed to be arguing.

“nobody will be dying, you hear me?”

“you heard the bear, someone’s gotta kick it if you wanna live another day. i’m sayin’ that someone should be me.”

fumiko was a little shocked. why was ryoma trying to sacrifice himself...? he offered a lot to the group, and he helped out with the chores a lot!

“n-no...! k-kill... kill me instead.” fumiko spoke up, making the rest of the room look over and realize she was there. korekiyo seemed to be very interested in the conversation, how brilliant was it to see not one, but two people willing to give up their lives for the sake of others. “i’m- i’m serious.” because you deserve it. rantaro shot her a look that sent a shiver down her spine.

“i said, nobody will be dying. if any of you try anything... so help me god... just- just trust me, alright? don’t do anything stupid.” the green-haired man said, placing a hand on fumiko’s shoulder as he talked before leaving the dining hall. her gaze followed him, and when she turned around she saw a detective and a pianist standing at the doorway, seemingly watching this whole thing go down.

“fuck this, i’m gettin’ somethin’ to drink! if anyone wants to join me, feel free, hmph...” miu said, following in rantaro’s footsteps out the door before opening the entrance to the warehouse. i’ve never gotten drunk before... fumiko thought. she stood there in thought before ultimately deciding to follow the inventor into the warehouse, brushing her shoulder on shuichi’s as she did.

“h-huh? someone actually came?” miu said when she heard the door open. “Y-YOU...? FOR REAL? HAH! i might’ve underestimated you!” the blonde seemed to have known exactly where to go to find alcohol, as if she’s done it before, and she pulled out a bottle of vodka. fumiko stole the bottle from her hands and started downing it like it was nothing.

“w-w-what are you doing....!? H-HOW?” it tasted awful, and she hated it. but being drunk was supposed to be fun, right? so she squeezed her eyes shut and dealt with the pain. the door to the warehouse opened, and fumiko continued drinking. miu was so fucking out of it, she had no idea what was going on. she saw kaede and shuichi at the door and knew what they were going to ask. before she acknowledged them, though, she ripped the bottle from fumiko’s hand.

“give me that,” she mumbled, “WHAT THE FUCK? YOU DRANK HALF-”

“miu!” the pianist shouted, walking towards her, “are the- are they finished...?”

“yeah, yeah, come with me. i’ll give ‘em to ya.” miu stomped out of the room, open bottle in hand, and led the two visitors to her lab. all fumiko did was sit on the ground and rub her head. her whole body felt shitty already from the idiotic way she drank the beverage, the gross taste lingering in her mouth for much longer than she’d liked. it didn’t help that she got maybe an hour of sleep the night prior, which already rendered her ill. what was she thinking? that she would be dead by tomorrow. that’s what she was thinking.

Opening the door to his room, he was met with Kaede, and... his clothes? How did she get his clothes? Voicing his troubled thoughts, he furrowed his brow at her, "W- why do you have my clothes...?" Kaede blinked, "Huh? Wha-?" She looked down at the article she had held in her arms, somehow forgetting she had picked it up. "Oh! I found this outside your door!"

Taking the folded clothing from her hands, he gazed down at it thoughtfully, racking his brain to try and think of why that had been— "C'mon, let's go! You already made me wait long, we have to get Miu's cameras and then you know," She spoke in a hushed tone, a cheeky smile on her face, "Set up the plan."

Shuichi found himself balancing on the line of giving her space, and running to her side to check on her—and you know what? It was stupid! He was stupid. What if she got alcohol poisoning? What if she does something rash? Most importantly, why? Throwing away the barrier that prevented him from interacting with the girl he loved, he concluded she had enough space.

God knows if she forgave or not for his bullshit, but that was beside the point she had just downed half a bottle of Vodka. As he practically dashed to the girl sitting on the ground, he left the disgruntled pianist behind—sadly, this hadn’t been the first time he had done that.

Slowing down to a stop, he crouched down across from her, subconsciously trying to see her eyes. It was strange, but he found himself wishing for a flashlight to see if the alcohol had kicked in yet.

Shuichi had to shove down the urge to scold her on drinking alcohol, knowing she didn't enjoy yelling nor was it even an okay thing to do. He had put himself on a permanent hiatus from yelling, he didn't want to see her upset like that, not today, and not ever.

"H- hey, uh..." He flinched at his own shaky and awkward voice, feeling the huge difference to how he talked to her before. Things shouldn't have felt so tense between them, today could've been the last day they— No. No, the plan would work.

"Why did...-" Shuichi pursed his lips; why did he bother asking? He knew why, didn't he? Well, maybe he just... didn't want to believe it. "W- were you drinking because of... what you said earlier? A- about the.." He trailed off, expression slightly saddened as he remembered her self-sacrificial remark.

Clearing his throat, he sat himself down fully on the floor across from her; a safe distance as he was afraid she still didn't want to be too close to him. Forcing words out of his throat, he spoke with feigned determination; despite his soul-crushing fear of 'what if the plan doesn't work?', he tried to remain strong. If not for himself, then for Fumiko, right?

"No one is going to have to die. E- especially not you, never... never you." He tried swallowing the rising lump in his throat, eyes focusing onto the ground as he tried to get rid of his emotions. He cleared his throat again, blinking violently as to rid the tears; he wasn't going to cry in front of her. And especially not Miu. "... S- sorry." Ah yes, the apology he had forgotten to give to her when he yelled near her. This fucking prick-

#mod chia #rp #DAMN IT I HATE HIM AGAIN #teapot anon

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asterekmess · 4 years ago

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S3A - E2

Here we go, Episode 2 of the rewatch. Honestly, even if you guys really don’t care about these, I’m gonna write them anyway, cus I need to get my FEELINGS out.

Anyway. Read More as a symbol of my love.

Thoughts:

Your pen is dry, honey. Try a sharpie.

So Stiles has literally known Heather since he was born? Nursery school is from 0 months to 5 years old, apparently. And Scott doesn’t know who she is? How does that even happen? It’s not like Stiles hasn’t seen her in ages, she recognizes him Instantly from across the room and he recognizes her back. So, Scott just never met her or asked about her or anything? Stiles never told him?

If anyone was curious, apparently Heather’s friend is named Danielle (according to Amazon Prime’s “X-Ray” thingy). She’s the same girl from Lydia’s birthday party, I think. The one who woke Stiles up? OHmygod that would be so fucking interesting. If he invited her and Heather to Lydia’s party. Maybe Heather couldn’t go, but Danielle showed up.

Awww, was Heather Stiles’ first kiss? Did they play winery as kids? Hide and seek? did they break a stupidly expensive bottle of wine?

I have personal issues with Stiles supposed canon age. I refuse to believe he’s not 17 and a year older than the others, because of repeating a grade when he was really young. I just refuse to believe otherwise. XP

PLS STOP making fun of girls asking for guys’ consent. This show would be awesome for like ten whole seconds if they stopped RUINING the girl’s asking for consent by having the guys laugh at them or treat it like a joke.

Allison, Scott’s not gonna have a single fucking clue what you’re talking about when only you hold out your arm to show the bruise.

Also. I believe in Big Dick Stiles Stilinski, bc he’s too smart not to know that wearing too big a condom is like the worst possible idea and can render it basically useless, and he wouldn’t have grabbed one (which we see he did in the next episode or something) if it wouldn’t fit. Therefore. XXL for our boy. XP

Hold up. So no one heard Heather screaming? Was she hallucinating the wine bottles breaking? Maybe it was an illusion, cus there’s no mess when Stiles gets down there? But still, the screaming is real. Scott should’ve heard screams like that even from outside the building.

Also, I feel p fucking bad for Stiles. As far as he knows, she bailed on him. What if he thought it was a prank or a joke or something? Or, even worse actually, since he’s known her for so long and she left her shoes down there, I bet he’d be worried instantly.

*snort* I looked up Derek’s loft set for research. They had to do so much editing to make it look grudgy and out of the way. This building is in the middle of town and it’s Massive and Gleaming. It’s a place where you can rent office suites. XD

I love everything about Isaac’s little venting session over getting Peter’s help, except the part where where he mentions Scott. Fuck scott. (whoops, now I need the tag. Like you didn’t see that coming?)

I find it hilarious that Peter’s intro is Rock Music. Also. “Fair enough.” I do love this man. (took me a while though.) Like, he’s honestly pretty simple to understand most of the time. He just wants people to be honest to him, say what they wanna say to his face.

Look at Peter, giving us one of the very few hints at werewolf history. Presumably, the ability was meant to be used to share memories with pack, locations of dens or images or even scents of other packs. And though mostly Alphas do it, clearly not just Alphas do it. This is fucking Interesting, I want MORE.

Aannnd, we discover that Scott’s been lying to Allison this whole time and letting her think that Derek just randomly attacked her mother. Love it. Also, I’m still not over Allison’s behavior in the last season? Waiting on an apology, hun, and it better be good.

OH. OH NOW You can sense the werewolves, Scott? SERIOUSLY?

Why do they make every single scene with Finstock have something to do with Stiles’ sex life? Like....it’s awkward. Stop. Also, can you imagine Stiles getting a rep around school for having a big dick bc of this? Is that something that actually happens in high schools? I had no friends, I would not know.

“No play.” The first time Scott decides that neutrality is better than actually doing something useful. I’m salty. *nods* yup. I am. I know what this scene does later on, and I hate it.

Also, can I just say that I literally hate that EVERY SINGLE time Stiles is having a good time, they make it Horrible? Stiles makes a lil joke about Derek being a Sourwolf? Derek gets claws through his lungs and spits blood. Stiles gets to play on the team? Across town Erica and Boyd are being tortured. Stiles is about to have sex? The girl he’s supposed to have sex with is being traumatized downstairs. Stiles is about to play a stupid fucking game in class? He gets taken in for questioning because his friend since birth has been kidnapped. They literally refuse to ever let Stiles be happy without making him look like an idiot or an asshole for having a single good emotion. It makes me so MAD. You can literally measure the show! If Stiles is actually smiling, then someone’s about to die.

OH MY GOD. Really? Another moment we didn’t get to see? “Derek says it’s easier to turn teenagers” WHEN DID HE SAY THAT? I‘M SO CURIOUS. Also how does Stiles know what Peter and Derek tried to do to get Isaac’s memories back? Are they reporting to Stiles? Letting him know what’s up? STILES IS HALE PACK I WILL FIGHT YOU.

I’m getting really sick of Deaton somehow knowing more about werewolves than the two born werewolves. Like, it’s really fucking annoying? They know their own species, or at least they should? It was the same with Chris helping out on the hunt. He doesn’t know werewolves better than they know themselves and I’m fucking tired of it. Let Peter and Derek have their own fucking history and knowledge about their own fucking species.

*snort* i paused at just the right time and the water effect made Derek and scott’s foreheads Really big. XD

I enjoy Stiles getting distracted now that his job is done. I feel that in my soul. The only difference between us is that he has the confidence to just Grab the shit he wants to play with, and I never did so I just zone out staring at it.

I’m not stupid. I see them suddenly throwing in the work ‘risky’ everywhere. But I still appreciate Derek reminding Isaac that he doesn’t have to do the ice tub thing.

More reflections...what’s with the reflections in this season so far?

Also, is this how people sound when they’re hypnotized. I’m on Stiles’ side actually, giving this the side-eye with Isaac’s constant “They’re here” thing. It seems really weird and overdone.

God, this scene is such fucking bullshit. Derek would never put Isaac in danger like that. Isaac’s the only Beta he’s got at the moment. He wouldn’t do that and it’s fucking Stupid to make him be so vicious and scare the shit out of Isaac. I fucking hate it.

I think it’s sweet that Isaac looks to Stiles for answers when everyone’s acting weird.

Ten hours of research, and Stiles has a little pinboard on the floor, the prototype for his big one Awwwwww.

Papa Stilinski comes through ONce Again!

If they’re supposed to meet at 5 and get to work at dark. Why is it dark when they get to Dereks??? WORK WITH ME HERE.

WHY would they patch the wall (Which is stone, so wtf did they patch it with? Concrete?) if they closed the bank down right after the robbery???

IT”S THE SCENE *heavy breathing* “Big bad wolf, yeahhh, lookatdat” Peter looks SO DONE “I’ve been dealing with this for months, make it stop”

aaaand again. “Risk” Since when does Peter care about risk? I never understood this scene. We have evidence that Peter cares about family, and according to werewolves, pack is family. He flipped shit to find Derek when Derek was missing. This is exactly the kind of thing he would do. I just...I don’t get it. Don’t like it, either.

“Yeah, if you want me to come” “NOT you” I love this scene, because it shows not just that Stiles is fucking raring to go and help, but that he didn’t offer before only because he thought Derek wouldn’t let him. We know Derek doesn’t think Stiles is useless. He put Stiles in charge of researching this entire bank. Which means it’s not that he doesn’t think Stiles could help, it’s that he doesn’t want Stiles to get hurt. And apparently Stiles knows that Derek feels that way, and knows Derek is vehement enough about it that he didn’t even bother bringing it up in the first place. That’s some serious trust and understanding, and even respect right there that Stiles is showing. Understanding what Derek would feel before he did it, trusting that Derek knew better about what was too dangerous for Stiles to involve himself in, and respecting him enough not to bug him about it anyway.

personal preference, I hate how much time is wasted just showing people walk down halls with weird lighting effects, or showing Allison trip over debris and pull her coat closed. Like...it’s really not needed?

Sup, Morrell? 20 seconds to get hidden? Is that 20 sec before the alphas get in hearing range or 20 sec before they actually get there? And how did the Alphas know that Derek was coming tonight? As far as they knew they took Isaac’s memory away and killed Braeden.

KALI WEAR SOM EFUCKING SHOES YOU NASSTY.

Smart girl with the bleach. I mean, I don’t know why the sudden scent of bleach didn’t tick kali off, but sure, whatever works.

I’m not even kidding. When I saw this scene for the first time I fucking burst into tears. Just that little glimpse of Erica and I was a mess

I really love Stiles and Peter chatting though. Like, Stiles gives no fucks, and Peter sounds just so used to it. Also, Derek’s couch looks sooooo comfy. I wanna sit on it. And Peter halfway through calling Stiles annoying is just like “Shit. He’s right. Again.” and there’s no physical distance. Peter once dragged Stiles around by his neck all night and nearly killed Lydia. But Stiles has no qualms about walking right up into his space and helping him out. PLUS, when Peter realizes Stiles is right, there’s no insults. Not even frustrated ones. When STiles describes the walls of the loft, Peter doesn’t say, “No, you idiot, the bank vault.” or make a quip. He’s immediately looking to Stiles for the information and trusting that he has it and will know where it is.

Then we have Scott just...whatever the fuck he’s saying. I don’t wanna hear it.

Okay, that is way more space behind Derek and Scott than Stiles said. And how is the moonlight even getting in? They had to shimmy through a shaft in the walls, there’s no windows in the walls. AND HOW THE FUCK would the ALpHA PACK KNOW THEY EVen KNOW WHERE THE BANK IS???

Derek should be able to hear the phone call. Just. Yes. That’s how that works. Also, Peter, now is not the time for gladiator analogies.

And the tears are back. All it takes is one fucking word. “Cora?”

IT DOESN”T MAKE SENSE. HOW WOULD THE ALPHAS KNOW??? If Marin hired Braeden and told her to get a message to Derek about the bank they were being kept at, then that means that it was all this really dumb double-double cross. Her making it look like she double-crossed the Alphas by telling Braeden to give up their location, but actually doing for the Alphas to trap Derek and Scott. What the absolute fuck?

FINALLY Someone holds Scott accountable. THANK you Derek.

Also, hello Lydia, I’m so sorry honey but you’re about to enter a whole new nightmare.

Final thoughts: I’m very long winded, and very frustrated and very fucking sad. I am just so goddamn sad and the next episode’s gonna make me feel even worse so I’m taking a break.

#personal #TeenWolf-Rewatch #anti-scott mccall

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jawllines · 6 years ago

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vamp harry vamp harry vamp harry but aLSO i saw an anon suggested a super cute update from the tattoo h fic where they get into a fight and yn doesn’t talk to him and h is all sad and pouty bc he just wants a cuddle now and realized he’s wrong and I NEED THAT now pls

YOU KNOW I ACTUALLY FORGOT TO POST THE WEDDING BLURB DIDN’T I? I WILL POST IT UNDER THE CUT

“Harry when’s the last time you went to a wedding?”

“1840.” Harry answered without a second thought, frowning down at the carrot he was chopping.

Y/N doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to that, no matter how many times he mentions the various years in which he was inhabiting a spot on the planet when Y/N’s grandparents weren’t even a glimmer in their own parent’s eyes. Understandably, this quick response caught her off guard, her brows dipping downward and a gaze overwrought with confusion as she wiggled herself in her spot on the counter, “Whose?”

“Queen Victoria and Prince Albert; I wore a beautiful tailored original flared frock coat -- reckon m’the one who brought it into style, everyone gives Albert the bloody credit -- and my date wore this gorgeous silk satin off the shoulder dress,” he takes a look to her, “Not a real date mind you, her father paid me a lump some of money to take her with me so she could get courted and sadly my little human wasn’t there to accompany me.” He runs his finger down the sides of the blade, swiping off any diced carrot that clung to it down to the cutting board, “Lovely reception, I stole a dance with her.”

Y/N grins, seeing him smiling fondly at the thought of it and she’s positively elated. She’d been rather nervous to bring a wedding up to him -- not because she wanted one herself, no, at least not right now. However, she got a costly parchment paper invitation to her friend Caroline from Sophomore year film studies (one of those where they were really close then, and they simply just fell out of touch apart from a spontaneous conversation every now and again) wedding. She figures because she’d been the person to set them up with limited help from Niall who was more concerned with the fact that he hadn’t lost his virginity at the time so “Why should I help someone else get their dick wet, huh?” But it had worked out well. She always liked their pictures together and felt a small glimmer of pride when she saw that they were still together since she was the matchmaker of the century.

“Welllllll, we were invited to a wedding! Minus the frock coats though,” he slides the carrots from the cutting board into a bowl so he could add it all together and mix it, “Plus, I haven’t gotten to get a new dress for anything in a long while and I’m kinda itching to spend money on something cute.”

Harry turns to face her, that permanent furrow planted deep in his brow, “I bloody hate weddings.” He stated plainly and Y/N’s face warps to match his own.

“What?” She nearly cries out, “But you just said --”

“There’s a reason the last wedding I went to was 1840, Little human.” He shakes his head, moving to chopped carrots to the broccoli, diced onions, ginger root, halved green beans, ginger root and garlic; he was making her a Ginger Veggie Stir-fry (he’s still very much pro-health considering the turmoil he puts her body through when he drinks from her, and she had a particularly shitty dinner of ordered in greasy, cheese pizza the night prior considering Harry had been working late and those are her only cheat days) and he was being quite diligent. It was the first time he was making it so it was probably a bad idea springing this on him while he was in his chef state of mind (because nothing matters as much as his dishes when he’s cooking). “The ceremonies are long and drawn out, the vows are contrived, you’re expected to stay for the reception and dance and eat the disgusting excuse for a mass produced dinner.” He shakes his head, the thought of it absurd in his mind, “Human weddings are meaningless; they divorce just as quick as they enter them most of the time. All that time and money wasted for what? A piece of paper? It’d made me irate before but now that I know what true love is with you, it only makes me angrier that they try to prove their love with that.”

Though his last statement had brought her cheeks warm and rendered her heart a bit mushy, she could feel herself deflate immensely. She couldn’t force him to an event that he didn’t want to attend -- he never made her accompany him to the two hour long meetings he was often stuck in, how could she make him come with her? It was long and albeit beautiful, the ceremony was rather boring, and the receptions could either be really fun or terrible, and the wedding cake -- god, you have to pray that they didn’t spend hundreds on something that tasted grocery store quality at best. But she hadn’t been to one in so long and there was some part of her that secretly loved them, even if she didn’t technically participate as anything but a face for the bridesmaid’s to look out at when they were trying to keep their mind off their cramping feet. She supposes that she could go with her friends or tag along with Niall and his date, but neither would be as fun as she thinks it would be with Harry, no matter his grumpy nature.

“Regardless of my distaste for them, I will attend with you,” he adds a few moments after his initial tirade and Y/N looks up, a new light in her step when she realizes he is looking at her, “I’m interested in how they have changed over time, and I don’t like when you look disheartened by something I’ve said. Wipe that sad little pout of your mouth my love.”

She sucks her bottom lip back into her mouth, biting down on a smile, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to though -- don’t want to force you into it.”

Harry pauses his cooking, walking towards where she sits on the counter and parting her legs for him to fit between, hands remaining on her thighs, “Would going to this wedding make you happy?” He inquires and when she nods, he strokes her skin with his thumbs, the metal of his rings coaxing goosebumps to the surface, “Then I will go. Little human, if you are happy, I am happy, however I do request you let me feed from the tender flesh of your thigh as my repayment for enduring such an interminable proclamation of human love. And that you do not make me dance.”

Y/N agrees to both happily, grinning wide and slipping her arms around his neck, peppering kisses onto his cheeks in rapid succession, “You can suck me dry through my thighs if you want to! And no dance floor shenanigans, promise.”

She had her fingers crossed around his head though -- she could get him on the dancefloor she bets.

Harry allows her kisses before puckering his own lips, and Y/N pushes their mouths together. It only lasts but a moment though, because Harry slips from her hold and pats on her thighs, “Now get off the counter, I need the space for the rest of the food.”

. . .

The day of the wedding, Y/N woke up at 7AM to an already showered and partially dressed Harry fixing up the buttons on his white blouse. Perhaps she was a bit melodramatic, since the wedding didn’t start until 10AM and they were maybe just a half hour away from the venue, but she scrambled from the bed. “Why didn’t you wake me?” She had cried out, trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes and detangle from the cotton sheets spread over her bed, “We’re g’na be late!”

“You told me not to wake you until 7:05.” He had reminded her, “I woke early so that you would have ample space and time in the shower.”

She pauses on her way to the bathroom because she remembers this very distantly and the fact that he had woken earlier than needed to get ready himself, makes her reroute to where he stood in front of her mirror. Kissed him quickly, murmured a quick, “Thank you, love you,” as her apology for panicking, before she scattered to back to the bathroom. In a haste she showers, shaves, lotions up, washes her face, brushes her teeth, and does her hair in the course of forty minutes. She walks out of her bathroom to be met with Harry taking her dress from where it hung freshly pressed on the door (he’d insisted on it, even if it was just a floaty floral number), holding it until she could pull up a pair of underwear on and wrestle with a bra.

“Slow down,” he commands gently when she rushes to grab the dress from him, holding it just out of her reach, “We have plenty time, Little human, we’re not the ones getting married.”

Which -- well, that was true, she supposes. Something about having an event to go to makes her a little jittery, moving too quickly and rushing; it’s like homecoming and prom all over again, only this time she had a vampire boyfriend who was incredible at handling stressful moments, carefully helping her into her dress. He took a glittery necklace he’d bought her from her jewelry dish atop of her dresser, and slid it around her throat and clipped the two ends together. A vampire boyfriend who also sweetly reminded her to take her iron supplement because, “Tonight, m’getting between those thighs lovely.”

The drive was alright; there was some traffic and she’d been worried when she saw how backed up the highway had been, but they got there forty minutes before the ceremony and secured a spot near the front where Niall had saved them seats. Harry entertained her with stories of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, and also trying to act as human-like as he can when they have any sort of interaction with the people around them. Like when Y/N spots another old friend (Adaline) sat in front of them and they begin chatting, catching up some at where they were in life, and who the men sitting beside them were. She’d made the comment, “What do you guys think of the venue? It’s lovely.”

Harry had answered unprompted, as he hadn’t really spoken much in their conversation other than, “It isn’t St. James Palace, but I suppose it’s fine. Hope she can stand up to the likes of Queen Victoria.”

Y/N’s eyes had widened, a dribble of panic slipping down her spine because she wasn’t ready to give the fake “he reads history books in his free time” explanation that he’d given Niall over Harry’s outlandish comments, but she doesn’t have to. Adaline only laughs, shaking her head and pointed her finger at Y/N, “Course you would find someone with the same sense of humor as you, lucky dog. Adam can never tell when m’joking or not.”

She has to pretend that she isn’t concerned that her joking sounds like Harry’s very serious tone but merely patted Harry’s thigh, giving it a loving squeeze, and when she looks to him he is smiling to himself. He rather enjoyed when people found him funny, and what he enjoyed even more, was Y/N trying to dig their way out of a ditch he’d begun digging them.

The ceremony was beautiful; Caroline looked stunning in her dress, a proper gown embellished with beading and lace appliques fitted to her torso and fanning out into the longest train Y/N doesn’t think she’s seen in real life before. Harry held her hand during the duration of it and swipes away the tear that had beaded to her eye when they began reading their vows and the groom got choked up. Even pulled her close to him, and despite his previous adversity to weddings, this one seemed to be getting him a bit mushy himself. She reckons if they hadn’t been in public, he would have purred for her as he’s so fond of doing when he’s feeling immense love for her.

Her reception was in the same building, so they only had to go a floor up to enter it. She met up with Niall and a few of their mutual friends, got to gush to Caroline about how beautiful the wedding was and how incredible she looked, and kept Harry at her side. He spoke when he was spoken to but otherwise he was quiet and when he’d ventured off to get them more champagne, Gina -- who also shared film studies with them -- leaned in, “He’s giving me strong Edward Cullen vibes, babe -- he moves, you move, silent probably broody type, definitely gorgeous,” she laughed as she continued, “Is he a vampire or something?”

Y/N’s blood ran cold when she forced a laugh, shaking her head letting a lie slip easily from her tongue, “No, no, just shy is all. He’s a bit of a writer so he likes observing people -- can characterize them better.”

Niall snorts, taking a drink from his flute, “Shy until someone challenges his history knowledge, that’s for sure -- grade A smart lad has a damn book of information as a brain.”

Before they could say anymore, Harry reappeared with her drink, “They’re attacking the cake like vultures to a carcass, I think I may need to break an old woman’s finger to get a slice. Would you like one?”

She’d tricked him into dancing as well, locking their fingers and dragging him out to the floor in the middle, “You promised!” He protested but Y/N had already started moving side to side a little dramatically to get him to smile past his frown.

“Had my fingers crossed!” She let him know delightedly and after some coaxing and the whispered promise that she would throat him later (weddings made her all sorts of soppy and soft, which in turn made her an eensy bit greedy for Harry, and being greedy is simultaneous with cuddly and horny), she got him moving at least a little. She’d coached him through the Cha Cha Slide, had improvised a dance to Papa Loves Mambo, and serenaded him with a lovely rendition of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You. By the time the bride threw her bouquet (which Niall’s date had caught, Niall’s eyes widened comically, and Y/N decides then she’s going to tease his ass to shreds about it), Y/N was feeling the full effect of her champagne and Harry was gaining a contact high from her giddiness. Even the slow songs were nice, as Harry showed her how it’s done exactly (because she’d never been arsed to learn herself), and pulled out some moves that he remarked Queen Victoria would have blushed at (“Times were simpler then, my Love”).

The whole night was so enjoyable and fun and by the time that it was through, she doesn’t think either of them wanted to leave. “We should start crashing weddings,” Y/N had decided on their chilly walk back to the car around , just as Harry revealed a plate with another plate over the top of it that he’d been covering with his coat, “What’s that then?”

“I stole you cake,” he answered, taking off the top plate and showing the five slices that had been hidden, “You enjoyed it thoroughly and they were just going to throw it away but wouldn’t let me take the entire thing, so I took as many as would fit.”

Y/N might have never been more in love with him than she was in that moment.

On their way back, as they both cooled down from the excitement of the reception and Harry was navigating the post wedding traffic while Y/N nursed the stolen cakes in her hand, they were relatively quiet. Harry was worrying his lip between his teeth like he was thinking on something, and Y/N was too worn out to bother him about it until he opened up as she usually does. Though he told her soon enough, once they finally pulled off on the exit that would take them back home.

“I enjoyed that much more than I thought I would,” he told her truthfully and she smiled.

“Good.”

“I would enjoy if we had a big party,” he continued, and Y/N’s once drooping eyes shoot open, “Much like a wedding but without the ceremony, that was a bore. But a big party and we will invite many people and celebrate our love for one another. Would you be interested in that?”

Y/N’s soppy soft heart only gets soppier as she nods, reaching over so their hands locked where his rested on the middle console.

“I’d love that.”

. . .

Once Harry and Y/N made it home, Y/N had taken what she believed to be a very well deserved nap in the passenger side, only waking to the gentle brush of his fingers to her cheek once they were parked, “Oh, sweet thing,” he’d hummed, “We’re home.” Harry was the best for waking people up, Y/N had decided long ago, because he’s nothing but sweet murmurs and soft caresses. When Niall woke her up in the mornings it was a plethora of pillow hitting and purported threats in the form of I swear to god, you little demon, I’ll write a love letter from you and give it to Professor Rollins. It was jarring and she was far undeserving of it (she only ever hit him will a pillow once and it was because he was already thirty minutes late) when she always wakes people up with careful shakes and promises of breakfast.

Harry is much sweeter towards her, coaxing her from her slumber with soft touches, peppered kisses against her cheek, murmuring pleasant words into her ear and nibbling at the lobe. It brings shivers down her spine and tickles goosebumps up her arms, to where she’s blinking her eyes open slow, adjusting to the light of the room and snuggling deeper into him. If it were a morning she had things to do, Harry would only appease her for a moment with back rubs and cuddles, “Wake up, little human,” he hummed sweetly, and when she replied she didn’t want to, he would assure her that as soon as she returned home they could nap together (which means Y/N will snore in his ear while Harry did whatever he did when she was sleeping and he wasn’t). If she had nothing to do, he would let her sleep in some but would tempt her with breakfast and smoothies.

So when she is reluctant to remove herself from the car, he’s as tender as he always is. Titters something she can’t quite make out before walking over to her side, reaching over to unbuckle her, before gathering her up in his arms. “Your species is such a sleep bunch,” he had commented, “Or maybe it's just my little human who is so tired?”

“Mhm,” she murmured, dipping her face into the column of his throat only then realising that he was carrying the cake plate with the hand of the arm tucked beneath her knees, “Still ready for you stuff me full of that big, thick —“ she begins to tease him but he cuts her off with a small pinch to her bum.

“Careful what you wish for, sweet thing,” he responded, not concerned in the slightest, “Haven’t been inside you for a while, might just split you in half.” He unlocks the door swiftly, twisting the knob and pushing it open, noticeably biting down on the inside of his lip when he feels Y/N shudder and nestle into him closer. She would very much like that, she decides, but she doesn’t think he will. One thing she had learned from him is that if he’s going to feed from her while and/or before they have sex, he prepares far before. The dinner he has is rich and full of nutrients, it’s not normally around a time in which she’s stressed, and it’s only if he’s sure she’s not too exhausted. Two of the three weren’t happening and she could feel from his grip that he was intending to feed from her as soon as they settle.

It’d been a while since he had fed from her; a few weeks at the very least. He didn’t enjoy doing it when she had finals to worry about so he had appeared to be pretty opposed to the fact, even though she continuously told him that it would be just fine if he did. So she knew he was starving -- parched for it -- and the tender flesh of the inside of her thighs, where the blood ran warm and his nose was tucked near another place he loved to frequent, she knew would be a treat after such a long period of wait.

Harry was brisk in his movements, setting the cake he’d taken down on the coffee table and almost immediately whisking her off to their bed. His pupils were blown a telling black that suggested his hungered state; it’s moments like this -- as he’s setting her down atop of the mattress, pushing the soft fabric of the dress up so it floated and fluttered around her hips with albeit precise coordination, eagerly -- that she remembers what he is. Not that him drinking her blood wasn’t its own telling indicator, but she often forgets that he is truly a whole different part of this world, one that nobody is quite aware of.

This should scare her. The way he pushes her thighs apart and settles happily in between, the dark of his eyes overshadowing the usual foamy, light green that they regularly were -- it should make her heart race out of fear that he might take it too far. Drain her of every ounce of blood until he’s satiated and full.

But she isn’t -- not in the slightest, because not only is he pushing sweet kisses to the skin and wrapping his arms around each thigh like a hug, he’s looking up at her like she had given him a star. Like she had single handedly flown to space, plucked one from the sky, and held it out for him to have and to hold. “Remember to tell me if it gets to be too much,” he reminds her as he always does, before he presses his nose to the skin and breathes in deep. His shoulders roll backward once as he nestles closer, his tongue dipping from his mouth to lick a stripe where he would bite as he always does. Goosebumps tickle up and down her arms and legs, her center giving a pulse in interest at the proximity in which he’s near her. It’s too much and not enough all at once, bristling beneath his attention, impatience and excitement fizzling through her veins as she awaits the first bit of pain.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to it. The way the point of his teeth slides into her skin, two pricks much like a shot that she still flinches from. Harry notices her discomfort, using one of his hands to reach up towards her, slotting their fingers together with a soft squeeze as he latches his mouth around the point he’d chosen. He begins to suck from her, such an odd sensation that’s both terribly disconcerting and arousing all at once. A moan threatens at the back of her throat but she swallows it down in favor of hearing his own happy hum against her. Though he normally lacks color, the addition of blood into his system always tints his cheeks a rosy pink at first, and the way he holds onto her tighter, suckles sensually, and revels in the sweetness of the taste makes her tremble.

Y/N doesn’t start getting light headed until two to four minutes in and Harry can always tell -- parting from her with a soft, wet smack, lulling his tongue over the flesh he’d just been feeding from. This time instead of peeling back immediately as he usually does, he scoots forward and pulls the fabric of her panties to the side. Once again he breathes in deep, only this time he is slicking the broad of his tongue up from her hole up to her swollen clit, suckling it into his mouth. This time she is unable to keep her moan quiet, weakened thighs attempting to shut around his head, as he continues to lap at her petals.

“Harry,” she gasps, her back arching, her hips rolling up against his tongue where the clit slicks and slides around the swollen button, moving it side to side beneath, “Please, please don’t stop I --” her legs are shaking much more than she was expecting, reaching down with the hand that he wasn’t holding to burrow in his hair. The mix of spit and her juices was deliciously inviting, wet, messy and warm. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, the telling sign of an orgasm zipping up from the tips of her curled toes, and the light of it wraps around her thigh, around her hips, up through her torso and fanning out down towards her fingers and to the tips of each strand of hair atop her head.

He reaches down towards his cock, wiggling down the slick trousers so they bunch around his thighs as he slips his fingers around the stiff shaft and begins to twist and tug, only serving to make her moan even more against her. Her chest heaves with each breath, biting down on the inside of her cheek when he prods his tongue at her hole, licking inside her, slurping and drinking her up like he’d been born to do it. Almost like he’d been waiting for it since she’d promised him a bite of her thighs in exchange to go to the wedding. The sheer avidness and passion, how he takes hold of her clit between his lips, sucking hard and fast.

He encourages her with his gaze alone, nodding his head, a soft, “Mhm,” against her that had her insides undulating, and like a bubble of water that swells beneath immense pressure, it pops around her in a blinding wave of light. She cums on his mouth, shaking like a leaf -- a very well satisfied leaf -- as Harry licks and sucks and works her through it. Brings her back down from the clouds with soft, sweet kisses up her thighs, to the junction of her leg and hip, pushing kisses to her stomach, and skipping where her dress was still covering her to her mouth. When he kisses her he slips his tongue into her mouth so that he can taste her, nipping, and suckling at her lips before rubbing the tips of their noses together.

Harry pecks another kiss to her mouth before murmuring, “We ran out of cranberry juice this morning,” but before she could act even the tiniest bit elated, he continues, “Thank goodness I have a whole new case of it in my trunk.”

“Harry,” she pouts, but he reaches up and plucks at her bottom lip.

“Put that away,” he tuts his tongue, “If you drink it all, maybe I’ll get you off again, hmm?”

#BLURB #BLURBS #:D #Anonymous

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