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what-the--curtains · 3 years

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Not a Piece of Art

Part 1/4 - A Grudge Like No Other

(Javier Peña x f!reader)

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Summary: You’re tasked with an impossible mission and an even more impossible partner to complete it with.

Authors note: I have never not once seen narcos all I know if based on other fics I’ve read so pls be kind but let me know if anything’s wildly out of character! Also I’m aware forensics wasn’t a solid discipline (especially DNA fingerprinting) but we’re gonna pretend it is. Lemme know if you’d like to be tagged (or untagged) 😊

Tw: Mentions of fake parental death, swearing, mentions of sex

Word count: 4.1k

Tagged list: @agingerindenial @diogodxlot

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The morning sun radiates down on your shoulders as you lock the door to your apartment complex behind you. Despite the early hour it was already far too hot, but at least the humidity wouldn’t kick in until the afternoon. You’d been working in Colombia for a few months now, but the heat wasn’t something you’d ever get used to. You weren’t complaining, most days you preferred it to the frigid temperatures that painted your childhood. The frost bitten noses, wool socks and thick snow falls coating tree branches seemed all but a distant memory now. You’d settled on Columbia after your long time best friend Connie convinced you to take the universities offer. She had recently made the move down south and was eager to have you there with her.

She’d told you about the job and honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if she had marched down to the university herself and dropped off your resume. She’d flown up to Brown and helped you pack up your life and then unpack it after your arrival to the terraced apartment Connie had picked out for you both to live in. It was a decent size and the balcony was south facing which gave you all day access to the sun. When you weren't working you spent your time out there soaking up the sun and watering the small garden you had been tending to since your arrival. Your days were primarily spent at the university working out the finer details of the forensics lab you were hired to set up. Your PhD in forensic anthropology has left you with various laboratory based skills, including DNA analysis, making you a coveted asset to the campus. Whilst in school you had also completed an art certificate which came in handy when facial reconstructions were needed.

After everything was in place you began running samples, processing unidentified remains by working on dental ID’s and facial reconstructions, as well as testing for drug residue. Despite being run by the University your job wasn’t as research based as you would have hoped with your work often falling under the DEA’s jurisdiction. You weren't involved in their day to day protocols. You mainly just ran the tests, or identified bodies recovered from the crime scene only conversing with them when it was absolutely necessary. Police work wasn’t in your wheelhouse, and it wasn’t a profession you supported or believed in.

Many faces passed through your workspace all demanding your utmost attention claiming their projects to be the most important. One frequent flyer through the lab was Steve Murphy, who Connie had met down in Miami a few years back. His relationship to your friend was the only reason you had bothered to make an effort with him. A friendship was established between the two of you faster than you had expected, due in part to his easy southern charm, but mainly because he and Connie evidently had feelings for eachother. You always found it easier to get along with men who weren't trying to get into your pants which was, unfortunately, a frequent occurrence in the male dominated discipline you worked in. There was only one flaw you could attribute to Steve, his work wife, the other half of the DEAs “dynamic duo”, agent Javier Peña. You’d never been formally introduced to the man, but his reputation preceded him. His was a face that also made frequent appearances in your lab but you'd never spoken more than three words to each other which was, probably for the best. You had what some might deem a confrontational personality and from what you understood Peña was, to put it nicely, an asshole.

He always came in sporting a more casual look and sunglasses which he kept on despite being indoors, a habit that drove you up the wall. He’d tap the file on the glass to get your attention always making you walk the five extra steps to get to him. You didn’t bother to look up when he passed the beige folders to you just grabbed the file from his hands and added it to the pile on your desk. He’d started attaching yellow sticky notes with “put a rush on” scrawled across them in impatient handwriting, as if his case was more important than the remains you were currently working on identifying. Not talking was a strategic move on your part, you’d heard he was quite the charmer when he needed something done, and you weren't going to let him get away with that. You ran this lab, not Javier Peña. Was your dismissal of him warranted? Maybe not, but your gut instinct was usually right and the rumour mill had painted Peña in a very specific manner. You weren't about to let yet another hot headed alpha male who took “too much male energy” to an entirely new level into your life.

Unfortunately, your knack for avoiding him became nearly impossible when you were called out to work on a crime scene. Despite your refusal to work in the field, the remains couldn’t be moved so you had to go to them. The site was just far enough away that a daily commute would have been tedious so you, along with the dynamic duo and your forensic team were booked into a nearby hotel. You weren't sure what you'd done in your past life to piss off the gods but somehow you’d ended up sandwiched between Steve and Peña. Steve wasn’t the issue, apart from the TV which you’d hear blare spanish dubbed reruns of Miami Vice between 4 and 8 PM, he was a quiet, considerate neighbour. Peña, on the other hand, was neither considerate or quiet particularly during the late hours of the night while you were trying to sleep. Sharing a wall with the agent proved to be an issue, so much so that by the third day just looking at him filled you with such intense rage that you'd given yourself lockjaw.

Every night without fail you laid awake as the exaggerated, bordering on ridiculous, moans coming from whoever he'd enticed into bed that night reverberated through your shared wall. You'd tried it all, earplugs, pillows so forcefully wrapped around your head you were essentially smothering yourself, but the sounds still permeated through the plaster and into your head. On the fourth night when you heard the talking start you knew what you had to do. You furiously wriggle free from your sheets and make your way out into the hallway. You walk one door over and inhale deeply before aggressively pounding your fist on the door.

“Hey” you say, through gritted teeth.

“Hey?” a slightly disheveled Steve murmurs eyes squirting into the hallway’s bright lights as his arms cross clumsily over his bare chest.

“Look I hate to ask but can I sleep on your couch, the walls are thin and...”

“And Peña has a thing for loud women '' he finishes for you, shoulders relaxing as he opens the door up for you “surprised you lasted this long, come in i'll grab you some pillows”

“Thanks for letting me sleep here, I think I may have killed him in the field tomorrow if I didn't get at least an hour of sleep. Also this isn’t some tactic to get you to bed so you can stop trying to cover your modesty” You say wiping your eyes, as Steve drops his arms to his side laughing.

“I know, believe me, besides i'm sure you're aware I’m only interested in one person.” So he did have a thing for Connie.

“You should go for it, I think she'd say yes” you offer, even in your sleep deprived state you were still a pretty solid wingwoman.

“You think?” His eyes light up, further cementing your belief that Steve, despite being friends with Peña, was a good guy.

“Thanks” you murmur as he hands you some pillows and a light sheet. It's not long before the AC’s quiet hum draws you into a deep sleep.

The alarm blaring out from Steve’s room pulls you from your dreaming state, groaning as you squeeze a pillow over your head. Why was it that you always felt worse after getting a good night's sleep? You briefly doze off again only waking as the smell of burnt toast convinces your brain that either a fire has started, or you were having a stroke.

“Tryna burn this place down?” you mumble, relaxing back into the couch cushions as you watch Steve scrape the burnt bits off into the garbage before buttering it and taking a bite.

“You think you got enough sleep to not kill my partner this morning?” he asks between mouthfuls.

“No, but I did get enough to realize if I killed him in the field there'd be witnesses” you remark pouring coffee into a cracked mug. “Thank you for letting me sleep here “

“Anytime, though Javi should be the one thanking me considering I basically saved his life. Lucky were leaving today or I’d have to put him into protective custody.”

“And I'll never have to hear him ever again” you say suddenly feeling a bit better. You were glad for Steve being so accommodating to your needs, especially considering he didn't really know you that well. “Well I should go get ready for the day ahead what it's supposed to be out?”

“A balmy 40” Steve offers, as he washes your cup up in the sink.

“Wow I should have packed my snow pants when I moved down here.” you dead pan, the delivery causing Steve to snort as you exit the room. As you exit, Javier opens his door kissing the woman he’d spent the night with one last time watching as she strides off down the hallway. You don’t see him, but he sees you. Specifically, he sees you leaving his partner's room, and in nothing more than an oversized t-shirt, he raised his eyebrows. Good for Steve from what he’d heard half the department had been trying to get your attention to no avail. Your head was always buried in paperwork and your ears were always donning headphones blocking out small talk, maybe he should take a page from your book. He didn’t say anything to Steve in the field, but he did watch you interact with one another. Paying specific attention to how you'd made Steve laugh while photographing the murder weapon. Javi watched as you meticulously gathered up a few finger bones that he'd overheard you saying would be used for DNA fingerprinting. He'd tried to talk to you a few times this trip, but the second he'd stepped in your direction he noticed your jaw clench and your body tense up, not wanting to upset you he decided it was best to back off. After getting what you need you packed up your things and headed back home, with no intentions of ever having to interact with Peña for more than 5 minutes ever again.

Several months later

Your lab was now contracted out full time by the DEA which meant you still got to do research but you didn’t have to teach any teenagers which was quite frankly a dream. Unfortunately, the contract meant you'd now be spending time in two male-dominated fields. The boys club offered little that would qualify as genuine friendship. Turns out the ones brave enough to approach you were only nice to you because they wanted to sleep with you. Something you’d found out after overhearing a less than true story about you from one of the guy’s you’d hooked up with. After that you’d stopped sleeping where you work and started looking elsewhere. Your few short lived romances were mainly found in dive bars only going home with people that had been thoroughly vetted (and vaguely threatened) by yourself, Connie and Steve. Who was now a relatively permanent fixture in your life after finally asking Connie out, and you really didn’t mind it. He was good to Connie and he never minded being excluded when you needed a girls' night without him. You also assumed the decrease in misogynistic talk amongst the agents was Steves doing, you made a mental note to thank him later, as you took another swig of the beer you’d been nursing for the past hour.

Steve was still inseparable from Peña and where he went Javi was sure to follow. Your inability to not become enraged by him meant you often found yourself leaving the room as soon as he showed up, subsequently cutting your Connie time in half. Devastating both you and her.

“You know he’s not really as insufferable as he acts” Connie states, Javi was due to show up any minute which meant it was just about time for you to leave.

“ You're not gonna sell me on this” you say, chewing on a stale nacho chip from food you’d ordered hours ago.

“Seriously, he's almost nice sometimes” your pointed look tells her to drop it. Connie was nothing if not resilient and you were constantly amazed by her. You don’t know how she worked as a nurse. You had a hard enough time with the dead, how she also dealt with the living as well was beyond you. She was a quantifiable saint which was probably why she saw the good in Peña.

“Remind me to never make you mad” Steve says.

“No one holds a grudge quite like her” Connie exclaims

“Awe you say the sweetest things about me” you retort after finishing the last of your beer.

“Alright well I’ve got an early morning shift so we should be heading out, tell Javi I say hi” Connie says kissing Steve before the two of you exit the bar.

“Are you really going to keep up this affront against Javi?” Connie asks, interlinking your arms together as you exit the bar.

“Yes, now please and can we stop talking about Peña even thinking about him gets me riled up”

“I thought you said you hated him” she teases causing you to roll your eyes.

“Please don't make me gag” you say pulling a face that causes you both to break into a giggle fit.

“What up her ass? Seriously, am I infectious or something?” Javi asks, slumping down across from Steve who's filling out paperwork at his desk.

“Well considering your history, probability is pretty high” Steve quips back earning him a thwack to the head with a folder you’d dropped on Peña’s desk earlier that morning.

“You know her, what's her deal, why does she hate me?”

“Everyone hates you Javi, it’s a fundamental part of your personality” Steve laughs.

Javier usually wasn’t one to concern himself with how others perceived him, but his work frequently overligned with yours and he figured his life would be made infinitely easier if he could get into your good books. Sure, at first his intrigue in getting to know you was purely physical. He knew looks aren't everything, but for what he wanted, they played a fundamental part. He wasn’t the only person to have noticed you the day you showed up, all eyes were on you as you walked through the DEA embassy for the first time. Your arrival had sparked a competitive energy amongst the men with the agents often vying over who got the honour of dropping off case files to you. A few were apparently even so lucky to have actually spent the night, at least that's what he’d overheard some agents proclaiming loudly, making him doubt their validity.

He’d cracked down on what some would call “locker room talk” when he thought you and Steve were sleeping together, after seeing you leave his room early that one morning. Though if Steve had been spending nights with you he’d never brought it up to Javi, and after he started dating Connie there never seemed a right time to ask about you, so he let it go. He’d gotten more proactive with stopping it once you’d been hired on full time. He’d upped his guard when he’d caught one trying to cop a feel of your ass the day you had been called in on your day off. You’d come in wearing a skirt shorter than what would be considered workplace appropriate gaining you more attention than usual. He noticed the guys hand drop down low, but any contact was stopped when Javi smashed the guys arm back into the wall behind him. In most cases a move like that would have earned him a swift punch to the face but a simple raise of his eyebrows was enough to get the pervert to sit back down.

Despite the scene playing out a few feet from you, you never noticed carrying on about your day as if nothing had happened, headphones on, paperwork in your arms and various scrawlings across your hand, reminders of meetings he knew you'd be late to anyways. He assumes your chronic lateness was a tactic to spend as little time around him as possible. Your hatred for him was palpable, he wondered if it was as obvious to everyone else as it was to him. He'd noticed how you would stand in meetings when the only seat available was next to him. It was starting to get to his ego. He wanted to know what he possibly could have done to be treated like the scum of the earth by you. He’d heard from Connie that you didn’t like cops, but you got on fine with Steve. Your lives continued on with minimal interaction until the day you were called into the head of the DEA’s office.

“Office now!” your boss shouts from the door. Fuck. What have you done now?

“Hey you need something?” you ask, lips parted and forehead wrinkled, feeling like a child who’d just been called to the principal's office. Your head snaps to the left when you feel eyes boring into you, eyes belonging to Peña. He shifts around in the chair to escape your violent gaze. You turn to Steve who's gazing up at the ceiling.

“I have the dental results here for the missing persons from the case last week, it’s a match, I know it's late but...”

“It's not that,” he gestures his hand to the chair beside Peña and you sit, placing the documents down on the table. Javi cranes his neck slightly, eyes darting over the various statistics strewn across the page surprised you were able to piece it all together.

“You have an art degree right?”

“I have an art certificate” you correct

“and you paint”

“A bit”

“She was featured in local galleries back in the States” Steve pipes up.

“ Good, we need you to go undercover” you snort before laughing aloud. Your amusement quickly fades when you realize no one else was laughing with you.

“Wait you're serious? You want me... to go undercover? I'm not an agent, I can’t use a gun, I don’t think I've even held one before” you say, tearing through all the excuses you could think of.

“You can shoot a bow and arrow,” Steve pipes up.

“Ya very different instrument Steve, also does Connie tell you everything about me” he shrugs his shoulders.

“You won’t need a gun anyways, you'll have a trained agent with you at all times.” Your boss reassures.

“No. No way! Im sorry but this… this is beyond the scope of my work and my skill set” you assert, not budging.

“You’ve been to crime scenes before, you’ve been in dangerous scenarios, excavated mass graves, we need you you’re the only one who can help with this”

“Why? You have multiple agents out there who would kill to go undercover, why me?” you push

“ Your background, and relative anonymity. There's been an increase in art dealing amongst the sicarios.”

“So what? Maybe they just really like art.” you offer

“Does anyone really like art” Peña pipes up

“ Yes, the whole world actually” you shoot back, successfully shutting him up.

“We think they're using convincing fakes to smuggle drugs without suspicion” Steve offered, helping to clear up the situation.

“Okay... then hire an art expert to go in and see if the paintings are real”

“We need you to test for residue on the paintings, and to recreate one in time for the next move”

“Okay im good, but I am not good enough to recreate a painting worth thousands of dollars.”

“From what I’ve seen you are,” Steve says further cementing your fate.

“What if I say no?” you ask, exhaling deeply.

“Then you're fired” Javier pipes up, once again causing your head to turn to him.

“And who, pray tell, made you judge, jury and executioner” you spit “last time I check Javier Peña wasn’t the one signing my paychecks”

“No, but I am, and you will do this” Your boss's backing of Peñas statement makes the smirk on his face even more aggravating.

“Fine, but just know I will be personally mentioning you all in my will so everyone knows exactly who got me killed, and I'm gonna want a raise, more vacation time and a new piece of lab equipment if I make it out alive. ”

“Fine” you smile feeling slightly vindicated.

“So what's my story? Who am I to have a million dollar painting in my possession?” you ask, as your boss pulls up a document on his computer.

“You’ll go by Melanie Alverez nee Smith, you were born in London England to parents Maria and Calvin who passed in a car accident four weeks after your nineteenth birthday”

“Shit” you mutter, thinking about your own parents who were very much alive.

“You dropped out of Oxford where you were undertaking a degree in chemistry and moved to New York where you began painting. You were a struggling artist for the first two years but received funding to attend Julliard. After graduation your first major piece was accepted by a local gallery and put up for auction. It sold for 10,000$. The buyer wanted to meet you after seeing your photo. He’d sent thousands of flowers to your gallery before showing up and asking you on a date.

“Must be nice” you murmur

“After a whirlwind romance you eloped and moved down to Columbia where you continue to work as an artist.”

“Alright easy enough, short live romance is a good call that can be used to explain why we don’t know certain information about each other.”

“You'll be staying here” A huge spanish style house appears on the screen. Its prestige was only overshadowed by the mansion looming over it from across the private beach. Must be the target's house, you think.

“It was built by the target, he lives there with his fourth wife. He’s rich, sources claims from drug smuggling, they think he may even have direct links to Escobar

“Like, as in Pablo?” you ask, eyes widening.

“Apparently he’s his art dealer. We need you to go in and see what he knows, if it's not enough then test the paintings in their homes”

“And if they trace?”

“You'll give them the fake implemented with a tracking device so we can target its route.”

“Okay well I'd say easy enough but the threat of being murdered isn’t lost on me. Who's my husband anyways? Obviously he’s rich but did he tragically fall down the stairs and die, did I kill him?” you ask, smiling as Steve laughs.

“What?” you say looking up

“What...” you say as Steve refuses to meet your eyes as he chokes on his laugh.

“Well you haven’t killed him yet but I give it a week.” He responds.

“Who's my husband” you ask, again suddenly afraid and very aware that there were two men in this room, and one was currently laughing at you.

“Your lucky day sweetheart.” Your head turns comically slow to face Javi, the effect only causes Steve to snicker more.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” you whisper.

“This mission is anything, but a joke.” your boss interjects “If we can trace the arts movement it brings us one step closer to catching Escobar. I don’t know why there's animosity between you two and frankly I do not care. You two must work together. If you are to succeed you have to be believable. Study up on each others aliases the target hasn’t made it this far without being killed by being stupid. We’ve tried to get to him before with no success, he will be on high alert. You two will have to convince him, and his wife, that you’re sincere.”

#javi x reader #javi x you #javi x y/n #Peña x reader #Peña x you #javier pena x reader #Javier Peña x you #narcos fanfic #agent peña x reader #agent Peña x you #not a piece of art #part 1

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hajimeow-archived · 3 years

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♡︎ what do do if i go non verbal ♡︎

first off, thank you for checking out this post!! it really means a lot <3

i’m gonna go about this post assuming you already know what going non verbal means, but if you don’t, i recommend checking out this short article.

this one in particular only goes into a single persons experience but since it’s almost a carbon copy of mine, i thought it would be helpful to add to this post, but remember that everyone’s experiences are different.

♡︎ what i can/can’t do while nonverbal ♡︎

it does sometimes range in severity, but most often it’ll be pretty much the same

i can’t: type more than 1-2 words, much less a full sentence, unless you’re with me in person then it’s much better for me to type/write than speak.

i can’t: speak verbally. at all.

i can’t: move around much/do anything productive/take care of myself. this usually only happens in really bad spells, though

i can’t: handle energetic tones (in both text & voice)

i can’t: handle serious subjects or be put on the spot

i can: use emojis, images, or hand signals

i can: listen/read!! as long as you don’t require coherent feedback

♡︎ what can/should you do? ♡︎

remember: you aren’t required to do anything!! the best thing you can do is refrain direct interaction that requires lots of energy, reading or any lengthy responses. however, here are some things that you can do if you’d still like to interact with me

tag me in lighthearted things like cat videos or cute art!! i’d love to see that stuff

send me little, brief reminders (preferably through the askbox, dms may give me anxiety) to get up and move and/or do basic tasks like drinking water or changing clothes. these are so appreciated!!

ramble to me! again preferably through the askbox and about lighthearted things that don’t require much thought or response.

♡︎ what should you NOT do? ♡︎

these are in order from best-worst. preferably you’d refrain from doing any of these, but if you accidentally slip up or don’t notice i’m nonverbal and do one of the first few things on the list, it’s not a big deal.

send me big paragraphs. they’re hard to read especially without any aids like random colors or random bolding. nothing too bad will happen, worst case scenario is that it’ll be a good while before you get a response

talk to me energetically. even looking at the notifications for messages like these drain me, so please be careful not to talk in caps or with too many punctuation marks

be rude to me in any way. you’re not getting a response and i’ll probably just block u lol

leave heavy posts like one note a day posts, VENT POSTS, donation posts, current events etc untagged or tag me in them. this stuff drains me a whole lot and chances are i’ll be nonverbal for a lot longer or it’ll get worse

vent directly to me. on good days i require at least some kind of permission or warning before venting, so even if you don’t have bad intentions or if we’re mutuals i might end up temporarily blocking you. if i can’t handle a vent on a good day you can imagine how stressful it’d be on a really bad day. just don’t fucking do this.

thank you SO much for reading /gen!!! it means so much!! i don’t go nonverbal often but i thought it was important to make a post anyway because when it nonverbal i’m usually already in a really bad state so i get triggered by things very easily and i’m sure neither of us want that to happen.

please go eat something if possible and remember that i love you /p!!

#ehehe i made it<3 #gonna put this in my pinned post so dw about losing it #samael.txt #nonverbal post

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talesofphantombandits · 3 years

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Tech Whiz ~ Matt Devlin - Part 1.

Hey guys, so I recently watched all the episodes of Law and Order: UK that Matt was in and came up with this idea for a story. Hope you all enjoy and let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts. Edits will be made later on.

Pairing: Matt Devlin X OC. Summary: Saylor Clarke gets a new job working on the tech aspects of solving the crimes that Ronnie and Matt investigate. She swears to herself that she will not get into any office romances but the more time she spends with Matt the harder it gets not to fall for him. Someone on the sidelines however are always watching their every interacting, when things go to the next level Saylors mystery admirer will make themselves known in the worst way possible.

Tagging those who showed interest in my post about this story, if you don’t want to be tagged in further parts let me know and i’ll untag it immediately. Thank you for showing support though <3 @dreamingundone , @fyeahmeninroyalnavy , @alittlepronetopanic

Saylor Clarke visuals.

As it is for anyone, the first day of walking into a new workplace was a nerve wracking experience. It was only made more daunting as Saylor took in all the bodies dressed in various formal suits and ties, pencil skirts and blazers.

Of course, Saylor was also dressed presentably, but the big difference between her and her new colleagues was the dip dyed shoulder length emerald hair she sported, the numerous piercings in her ears - which were mainly covered by her hair - and a small green ring through her nostril.

She was grateful her sleeve tattoo in progress was covered under her blazer or she would have felt even more uneasy than she already did. Her only body art on show was five thin lines encircling four of her fingers. They were dainty and usually most people didn’t even notice them unless they were in close proximity to her. Even so, she loosely clasped her hands into fists in case anyone decided to peer too closely.

Still, alternative styles evidently were not a popular sight in the The Crown office, because as Saylor walked down the aisles of cubicles, eyes zoned in on her. She tried to remind herself that this was not the first time she’d faced stares over her appearance and that it no way detracted from her professionalism or ability to do her job. That’s all that mattered, and she would remind them all of that in due course.

Arriving at a standard looking office that overlooked the city, she met DI Natalie Chandler who went over all the necessary debriefing and documentation with her. The woman’s kind nature lifted some of the nerves rattling through her and she hoped she would get to work with Ms Chandler in the future.

Natalie then led her over to the middle of the bustling office to a set of desks where two men had their backs to her.

“Guys! This is our new tech master, Saylor Clarke.”

Both of them swung around in their chairs, the older gentleman who sat to the right and she shared a warm smile with him, but what caught Saylor’s was the young man on the left. “I’d like you to meet DS Ronnie Brooks and DS Matthew Devlin.” She smiled, meeting both their gazes in greeting.

“She’ll be taking over from Angela from today.” Before Natalie walked away she gave both of them a pointed stare. “Be nice! Look after her.”

“We’re always nice!” Matt called after her playfully then turned on Saylor and she forgot her own name for a breath. “Hey, Mathew Devlin but you can call me Matt.” He held out his hand for her to shake. Worried her hand would be sweaty due to the first day nerves and her body’s response to meeting someone as striking as Matt before, Saylor hesitated, but suddenly she realised how rude that would look and slipped her hand into his. It enveloped hers and she hoped he didn’t hear the way her breathing jittered at the contact and noticed the electricity that skated up her skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, and she truly hoped he didn’t feel the slight moist covering on her hand. If he clocked onto anything at all, he never let it show as he gave her a friendly grin and returned to his desk.

With ocean eyes that shamed the carribean shores, sunkissed skin that enhanced every muscular valley in his bare forearms and bone structure that rivaled the godly marbled statues she’d seen at the A&E, it was fair to say Matt might have been the most mesmerizing man she’d ever laid her eyes upon.

One word came to her mind. Shit.

How was she going to stop herself from crushing on Mr Devlin?

“Ronnie Brooks,” The older man stated, waving a hand. “don’t worry you’ll settle in right away. If you need anything though don’t be afraid to ask us. Me and Matty will be happy to help.” They both offered her bright and reassuring smiles and she felt instantly welcome in their company.

“Thank you, guys. It’s nice to meet you both. I guess I better go log into my computer, and get it all set up.” Ronnie pointed out her desk which was a little way across the room from theirs, she thanked him and made her way over, cursing herself on the way for being so awkward.

Her first day seemed to flash by, and before she knew it, it was dark outside and people started leaving the office in drips and drabs. Nothing too exciting had happened through the duration of the day. It wasn’t as though she had expected to be thrown straight into the middle of the chaos on day one, but admittedly, lack of productivity had her itching in her seat.

However, her day was pleasant nonetheless; she had managed to set up her computer almost exactly the way she liked it, she’d gone and spoke to some of her other new colleagues around the office to get to know who she would be working with and had been pleasantly surprised at the warmth she was met with. She shouldn’t have assumed they would judge her based on her looks, she needed to squash that insecurity.

But mostly, she had chatted with Matt and Ronnie. Apparently, not much was happening in the way of cases, so they had time to tell her about some of their most interesting cases and how tech had helped them catch their criminal in the end. She looked forward to being able to be a part of that team and process in the future.

Both men were incredibly charming and sweet. She counted herself lucky that she’d been put in an office with such lovely company. Ronnie was instantly like a father figure to her, he seemed gentle and caring and she was in no doubt that he’d be the first to her aid if she needed it. Matt on the other hand spoke to her in a more flirtatious manner, which of course she could never honestly say she minded. It was actually an honour to have such a beautiful man trade playful banter with her, but she had to remind herself that this was her work place now and no matter how she may want to, nothing past friendship was to be permitted between the two of them.

There was only one person she met in that office that first day that made her uncomfortable; Mike had walked up to her desk, and she could tell right off the bat that this man was typically shy. Knowing this feeling all too well she greeted him warmly, but as soon as he started speaking she got an unsettling feeling from the interaction. She couldn’t, however, put her finger on what exactly it was that was making her so uneasy about the man who had only said one word to her.

After the single interaction though, she didn’t see him for the rest of the day so she brushed it off and buried herself in customising her systems to her personal preference.

At the end of the day, she was at her desk switching everything off when she felt someone approach her from behind. She sent a silent prayer that whoever it was, it wasn’t Mike. Regardless, of the lack of action she’d seen through the day, she still felt drained from all the information she’d had to retain and had no energy left to try to understand him.

“How are you getting home?”

Turning, a jolt of excitement spiked through her fatigue when she saw Matt standing a few feet from her wrapping his scarf around his neck. “Not to sound creepy or anything, I just thought It would be decent of me to offer you a lift seen as it’s pitch black outside and you said earlier that you live on the other side of London.”

She smiled not only at how genuinely adorable this man was with his slight pout, but also at the fact he remembered when she’d idly said where she lived. Then she quickly reminded herself not to overthink his basic capacity to listen to information. She couldn’t let her head run amok. “Thank you Matt, that’s really nice that you thought of me. But I have my bike.”

“Bike? As in a peddle bike? I mean I could probably fit it in the back of my car. London traffic in the dark isn’t the nicest to people on bikes.”

“Erm, no, my motorbike.” Matt looked taken aback at this. Saylor simply laughed at his surprised expression.

They both started for the door. “Okay this I have to see!” She looked at him confused but she couldn’t hide the amusement on her face. “Oh no I didn’t mean you riding a motorbike I meant the actual bike.”

“Sure! You can come meet Alvin.”

Matt stopped in his tracks in the middle of the foyer, Saylor stopping a step in front of him, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“You named your bike after a chipmunk?”

She burst out laughing at the remark, envisioning the small rodent in question. “No.” she shook her head. “I named my bike after the Glam Rock star Alvin Stardust, a childhood favourite.” Sniggering to herself as she walked out of the revolving doors.

Matt was close on her heels as she walked to where her bike was parked on the side of the street. Stopping in front of it, she reached inside of her jacket to grab the key for the little storage box on the back of the bike.

“Matt meet Alvin, Alvin meet Matt.”

“Wow, such a beautiful bike.” Matt slowly walked around observing every detail of the vehicle.

“Thanks. I try to keep him in tip top shape.” Matt paused again looking over the bike to Saylor who had finally freed her helmet from the box.

“You do maintenance on the bike yourself?”

She looked up to find Matt staring at her in something akin to awe. “Yeah, I won't let anyone else touch him.”

She got up on the bike and started up the engine. Itroared to life.

Putting on the helmet, she turned to Matt one last time. “If you’re lucky one day I might let you ride him, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She winked at him, closed the visor and as Matt walked back to the pavement, he watched as she safely pulled out and sped off.

The last look on his face said it all; maybe she wasn’t the only one that was going to struggle toeing the line between friendship and something more.

...............

The next morning was uneventful, but Saylor didn’t mind too much. It gave her additional time to settle in and socialise some more. Which included Matt.

When she got home the previous night she couldn’t shake the smile from her face. Her interactions with him the previous day had left her feeling like a campfire had ignited in her stomach and set a flock of butterflies into a frenzy above.

“Hey, a few of us are heading out for something to eat tonight if you would care to join us?” She turned in her chair to find Matt and Ronnie stood behind her with hopeful smiles on their faces.

“Sure, why not.” She leaned back in her chair and grinned at them both.

“I hope I’m invited too.”

As if out of nowhere, Mike appeared beside Saylor, that uneasy feeling came back to her. She shifted in her chair then glanced at Matt who seemed to sense her unease. He moved to perch himself on the corner of Saylor’s desk, putting himself between them. She looked up at him and gave him a silent ‘Thank you!’

“Sure. Everyone's invited.” Ronnie chimed in.

Saylor and Matt both snapped their heads to Ronnie. Obviously, he hadn’t read the room, but it was too late. Mike said he would meet them at the pizza place later and had walked off.

Unable to pinpoint exactly what it was about Mike that gave her the creeps, she felt a little bad, but every time he was near her, the hair on the back of her neck would stand up and she had the greatest desire to be as far away from him as possible.

“Jeez, Ronnie, why’d you invite him? Can’t you see that he makes Saylor uncomfortable?”

Ronnie looked at Saylor, confused.

“Does he make you uncomfortable? I can go over and uninvite him?” Ronnie started walking to Mike's desk but Saylor reached out an arm and stopped him.

“No, no. It’s okay. I’m probably just overreacting, he’s probably a really nice person, I have to give him a chance. Besides this is only my second day, he barely said two words to me. Can’t be making enemies straightaway, can I?” She smiled at them both, trying to be as lighthearted as she could. Ronnie said a simple okay as he walked back to his desk.

“Did you bring the bike today?” Matt said still perched on her desk, she swung back round to face her computer.

“I got a cab today actually, I never ride when it’s raining.” She chuckled to herself. “One of my mum's rules, actually. I understand though. Plus, I’d rather not turn up to work drenched.”

“So, you’ll be getting a cab home?”

She just nodded as she typed away on the keypad. If someone would have asked her what she was working on she wouldn’t have been able to answer. It was hard to concentrate when she had such a handsome man distracting her.

“Or I could give you a lift after the pizza place, I mean I’m the designated driver so....”

She stopped typing and looked up, catching his eye. “Sure, I guess it saves me some money. Unless you want gas money which I will happily provide.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just buy me a coke at the pub.” He snapped his finger and pointed at her with a wide grin.

“You got it.” She tilted her head as she looked at him, matching his grin.

“Great, I guess I’ll meet you back here when it’s time to leave.” Nodding again, she watched as he got up from the desk and walked away with the biggest smile on his lips.

Sighing, she knew she’d spend the rest of the day trying not to overanalyse said smile and tame the butterflies wreaking havoc inside her.

By the end of her second morning she’d already made some amazing friends. She just hoped that it would stay like that, that she wouldn’t ruin this job for herself like she did the last one.

No way would she let that happen again.

Time ticked by ever so slowly. Every time she looked at the clock, only mere minutes had passed. Now and then, she’d peer over to Matt’s desk. Most of the time he’d have his back to her, but sometimes he’d be talking to Ronnie and would catch her eye, a dazzling smile appearing on his face.

She didn’t have the adequate vocabulary to describe how adorable Matt Devlin truly was.

After her lunch, she’d been given some work to do which she became immersed in, completely forgetting about the time and what was happening around her. She only became aware of her surroundings again when Ronnie placed a warm hand on her shoulder.

“You ready?”

She looked up to him smiling down at her, she saved her work and switched off the computer. “More than ready.” Grabbing her bag and jacket, she met Ronnie by the door.

“Matt just had to go drop off some paperwork, he said he’d meet us by the car.” Nodding, she followed Ronnie out to the back parking lot.

Less than a minute later, Matt came strolling over to them smiling, swinging his keys around his finger.

Ronnie let Saylor ride shotgun, even though she insisted she would be fine in the back seat. “It’s the most gentlemanly thing to do.” He smiled as he got into the back. She looked at Matt over the roof of the car rolling her eyes but got in the font anyway.

When they reached the little pizza place, they found a booth near the back and settled in. Once Matt had taken his coat and scarf off, he got the drink orders and went to the bar.

Ronnie and Saylor were having a full blown conversation when the bell above the door chimed, indicating that someone had entered the restaurant.

Both looking up at the noise, they could see four people entering and looking around. Saylor only recognised one of the people. Mike.

“Oh god.”

She shook her head and looked to Ronnie.

“What is it?” She enquired.

“That women behind Mike, she’s from the evidence team. Completely obsessed with Matt, finds any excuse to come up to the office to see him.” He sniggered, evidently amused.

“Honestly, can’t say I blame her.” Saylor laughed at the surprise on Ronnie’s face.

“I’ll remember that remark!” He jokingly threatened her, but before Saylor could reply, the group had reached their table, and the women who Ronnie had pointed out sat down next to Saylor.

“I’ll go help Matt with the drinks now we have more people.” Ronnie got up and headed to where Matt still stood at the bar.

Saylor just stared after him in complete disbelief that he had left her with a bunch of strangers.

Not even a second after Ronnie had left his seat, Mike slid in the booth next to her. She tried her damn hardest not to shift away from him when he shuffled in closer to her.

Finally, the two men came back from the bar, hands full of drinks and distributed them out to everyone. She caught Matt's eye when he handed her, her drink then his eyes shifted to both sides of her. His eyes showed concern but he mouthed a ‘sorry’ to her. Replying with a gentle smile, she let him know she was okay. For now.

“Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. My name is Alice! and this is Chase, we work in the evidence lab.” Alice held out her hand which Saylor shook, then proceeded to shake Chase’s hand as well, of which he held onto her hand a second longer but then just smiled at her and sat back into the booth.

“Saylor, I’m the new tech wiz in the office.” She changed her attention back to Alice who was now sizing her up.

“Oh, lucky you. You get to be in the office all the time and be around Matt.” Saylor looked to Matt who was conversing with Ronnie and tried to think innocent and professional thoughts.

“He’s an amazing person. I mean I’ve only known him for two days and he’s been nothing but kind to me.”

“He’s more than amazing. Have you seen him? He’s so yummy. If only he could see how amazing I am, I’d take him straight home and do nasty things with him.” Saylor was taken aback by the way Alice was talking about one of her coworkers.

All she could do was laugh uncomfortably and turn away hoping to end the conversation but she forgot that the person on the other side of her was Mike. She was trapped.

“Don’t take no notice of her, she has no filter and has been completely obsessed over Matt for years.” Chase reached over and moved Alice out of his way so he could sit next to Saylor. “I’ve heard way worse come from her mouth about that man.” Saylor gave the man a ‘oh god’ look but smiled at him anyway, glad that finally she was sitting next to someone she could converse with normally.

The rest of the meal was relatively normal. Although she missed the time with Ronnie and Matt, she found that Chase was also someone she could see herself calling a friend in the future. He’d also saved her when Mike shifted unbearably close to her so again, but then Chase switched seats meaning she was back next to Alice, and she’d take that over sitting next to Mike any day.

When they were getting ready to leave, Chase also offered her a lift home but she had to decline, looking up to see Matt waiting for her by the door, his sparkling eyes dancing in the candlelight. “Thank you, that’s really kind, but Matt already promised me a lift home. Thank you for saving me tonight, twice!” She laughed.

“No problem. Anytime.” Then he did something unexpected. He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. She didn’t know how to react so she just smiled and waved her goodbyes.

“You ready?” Matt smiled at her, opening the door.

“Yes.” She walked out into the rain, Ronnie trailing behind her and the three made their way to the car parked just outside.

They dropped Ronnie off first and bid their goodnights to him, and then for the first time that night, it was just the two of them.

Saylor gave him the directions to her flat before any conversations started.

“Seems you have many admirers already!”

Saylor chuckled and turned to look at Matt, the streetlights highlighting his sharp features as they drove. “That's funny because I hear you have admirers too!”

“Urg, if you’re talking about Alice, I don’t want to hear about it. She’s a nice person and I respect her but agreeing to go on a date with her was one of the worst decisions I've ever made.” He glanced at Saylor in the passenger seat to see her beaming at him.

“You went on a date with her? I bet that was eventful!.”

“Oh! it was, but I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of hearing about it.” Saylor huffed out a ‘spoil sport’ and went back to facing the front of the car.

“Did you enjoy tonight?”

“I did, everyone’s so nice. Shame I didn’t get to speak to you and Ronnie much. I was kind of trapped between Alice and Mike, who, for some reason I can’t put my finger on why, but he gives me the creeps.” She shivered in her seat.

“Yeah, I could see how uncomfortable you were with him earlier.”

“Luckily Chase was there to put a barrier between us.” She didn’t look but she could tell he was glancing at her.

“Ah Chase! think he has a thing for you.” They both looked at each other when Saylor laughed out loud.

“Yeah well nothing will come of it. For one, he’s a nice guy, but I don’t feel any attraction towards him. And secondly, I promised myself long ago not to date coworkers.” Matt's face fell, and for a moment she thought she saw disappointment in his eyes, but it was only a flash.

She couldn’t say anymore though as he pulled up to her apartment.

Looking up at her door, she sighed. She’d told Matt that about coworker relationships, but every time they were close, all she wanted to do was be in his arms and just feel his arms wrapped around her.

She opened the door but turned back to Matt. “Thank you for being so kind to me in my first few days and for dropping me off home.”

He smiled in reply and she wondered if she’d ever get tired of that smile. She doubted it.

Without time to think it through, she reached over the centre console and kissed him on the cheek. Once she realised what she had done, she moved back a bit to read his reaction, but all she saw was shock and happiness all mixed together, and gods, she really wanted to kiss him. She could see he wanted the same as his eyes travelled down to her lips.

But she couldn’t let it happen.

So, she pulled back further and finally got out of the car.

“Goodnight Matt.”

#matt devlin #law and order uk #matt devlin x oc #matt devlin x reader #matt devlin fanfic #matt devlin story #law and order: Uk #jamie bamber

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m4rkiza · 3 years

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just to let you know this is nsfw anon! a few things that prev anon said to me are quite important as both of us are not gay (mlm) and we should listen to what they say. personally (as a bi person, so it’s not quite valid) if you know where the line between fetishsizing/infantilizing a character vs giving him some personality traits that make him seem ‘softer’ is you should be fine. i do agree that your headcanons could sometime come off as a little like: the top has to be [specific personality type] and the bottom has to be [specific personality type] i just think it could be taken too far without you realizing so it’s always good to just take a step back and see whether you’ve accidentally played into the typical yaoi stereotype (if you get what i mean) i cant say that i’ve never done those things before especially when it comes to shipping two male characters together, so let’s both do our best to check ourselves every so often? i know you’ve also confirmed with your own friends abt whether it’s uncomfortable for them to see which is great! but if there’s also people telling you there’s something wrong or off putting it’s better to look back and reflect? (i also understand it can be hard to know where to draw the line and in those cases just ask a general qn on here i’m sure you have more than one gay follower on both twt and tumblr! your art is lovely) (also i’d suggest tagging my nsfw stuff as #nsfw in the tags bc it can be quite awkward to go into the raileon tag only to find stuff that’s untagged) hope you have a good day! i apologize if this came off as rude?

hello!!! you!!! dw its not rude HAHA, i do agree about the previous previous submission, i also take it to a consideration thus why i ask my friends about it first before i answer it. (and yea!! theyre okay with it) anyway about my headcanon/portrayal, it might come out that way since its an NSFW hc and if im going to be honest, the playground for nsfw headcanon is not as wide as SFW one and might come out stereotypical and one dimensional (which i also dont like) especially when i try to keep it short. but ill probably change my choice of words next time to avoid the same problem

but about where to draw the line, i asked my friends about it too and thankfully its safe to say that i know about it! theyre pretty much fine and even engage with it, but again peoples taste of a ships portrayal is pretty much subjective and obviously my portrayal is not one size fits all. but tbh this is the first time someone...complain (?) about how i portray leon, so i assume its probably because its not their cup of tea. so i wont change how i portray him in further headcanon

#im gonna be honest bruv i aint gonna change how i portray him online because one person doesnt like it #anonymous

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simonjadis · 4 years

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In many ways, puriteens (as you put it) are desperate to make change in our sorry excuse of a society in the ways they know how. They can't overhaul the GOP even if they were to unite in real life but they can post something harsh on the internet. I mean, sometimes it feels like our world needs a legitimate superhero to stand up for the oppressed. Puriteens want to be that hero. The ones who can undo the harm boomers put our world through. They're tired of being... helpless.

Absolutely. A lot of cruel behavior, from misogynistic trolls commenting on girls’ selfies that they’re “ugly” to racist attacks to the harassment of celebrities and more, is rooted in one thing:

Misdirected frustration.

People feel stuck in their lives or their jobs or in school, and they want one outlet where they can feel powerful. This means that they have to vent their frustrations at someone who will see their words and be hurt by them.

We all know that a lot of the stereotypical “school bullies” are repeating behaviors learned at home. That’s not to say that most abuse victims become bullies or that all bullies are mistreated by their parents, but the conventional wisdom that says that a guy who feels like an ‘80s movie stereotype and won’t hesitate to strike a classmate has probably been on the receiving end of violence and/or other abuse.

In this case, as you suggest, antis/puriteens (I prefer the latter name because it is such a clever word but also because sometimes “antis” refers to people who get bent out of shape over a particular ship for non-”purity” reasons, which is its own thing if not unrelated) want to feel righteous (in motive) and powerful (in effect). Causing a change in the world can make you feel strong and in control, something that few of us can feel in our day-to-day lives.

But, obviously, their motives are not righteous. Attacking someone because of fanfiction or fanart or which shipping gifs they reblog isn’t just absurd, it’s vicious. People start to spiral into self-loathing and feel a misplaced sense of guilt because they thought that an anime guy was hot but he turns out to be 17 (or, worse, the fandom has simply assigned ages to people and for no real reason declared that some are minors).

Some forms of fanworks are intended to be hurtful. Whitewashing fanart, for example -- not accidental whitewashing where someone never thought of an elf as any particular race or skin tone (which is a learning opportunity for them) but deliberate whitewashing like that infamous “I made Vivienne more elegant and classy uwu” piece of Dragon Age art where she was portrayed as a blonde haired white woman -- that is malicious and intended to hurt someone.

But the only way that most ships or fanart are intended to be hurtful is if they are sent unsolicited to someone, or deliberately left untagged. Tag your spicy stuff, post it in the right places, and it’s a Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Anyone consuming that content knew what they were in for and has no right to complain.

Some creators of fanworks convince themselves that they have to be “perfect” and “cancel-proof” because engaging with certain fandoms can feel like walking on eggshells. This kind of fear should never exist in communities. Those who are young or marginalized or with mental illness are especially vulnerable to vicious online mobs, and it can cause their mental and emotional health the spiral.

The sick joke is that there is no way to be “perfect” in their eyes, because goalposts can be moved at any time. Shipping an alien and a robot? Well, that robot’s memory was erased before the season began, so it’s really like a child. Shipping two adult members of a superhero team? They’ve know each other so long that they’re basically siblings.

I absolutely do police my shipping language in public spaces because if, say, someone considers X Superheroes to be “siblings,” it might upset them. It’s okay to be upset by things, and I would not want to be the cause of it. So if I were to discuss it (or an actual incest pairing, or whatever), I would want to tag it if I discussed it publicly at all.

It is okay to find something personally upsetting and ask for it to be tagged.

What is not okay is assigning a moral value to your personal preferences, and declaring someone immoral because they don’t share your hangups.

I am a big fan of the “bring back the term squick” movement, because it has been lost in the pursuit of Puriteen Clout.

In my teen years, it was the golden age of Harry Potter smut, and I used to encounter Snarry content. That squicked me, because Snape is old as balls and no version of him is attractive (to me). I didn’t think that the people (most of whom were close to Harry’s age but that really doesn’t matter) who read it and enjoyed it are bad, dirty, dangerous, impure, etc.

Basically, yes, antis are misdirecting their fury over real-world injustices by imagining new “crimes” committed by people whom they have the power to bully. This is rarely, if ever, conscious. Sometimes, mental illness is a factor for both victims and perpetrators (mental illness can make people perseverate), but often, it’s just human nature, especially when peer pressure is involved. It is normal for adolescents and young adults to crave orthodoxy, so some people will imprint upon this and thinks that it’s just the way that things are done.

I know that I rambled a lot and probably did not express some things as well as I could have, but it is time for work and this post is Long Enough.

#Anon #Ask #Anon Ask #puriteen culture

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lethbians · 4 years

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can you explain what's going on right now? i keep seeing big IT blogs talking about some discourse or something but i have no idea what they're talking about other than it involves you lol

alright i like. i truly do not like having diScOurSE out in public because i’m not one to air out my dirty laundry 24/7 but seeing as how it was brought into public against my will i feel like the least i can do is clear up the situation for those who’ve been seeing the posts.

i’m putting this under the cut bc it’s long. tws for some biphobia, brief mention of transphobia and, at the end, a rape mention.

so if you don’t know: hi, i’m migz, i’m an it fandom blogger. its okay, i know, its really cool. part of my shtick here is that i like to turn normal thirst tags into works of art for the sake of comedy. perhaps you’ve seen some of my highlights from my “fhg” tag - perhaps your brain has been spared. either way, it became kind of “my thing” around the third or fourth week (mid nov) of me having this blog. at first, i tagged just about every ask i got mentioning the thirst tags with “bill hader” - they had to do with him, so why not tag him? it would draw more like minded people! about two days into that i got a message asking me to tag my nsfw. i am a big dumb idiot, and apologize for not initially doing it. i havent had a following bigger than like 10 in several years and completely spaced on basic etiquette. so by the end of november i was tagging everything applicable with “notsfw” and “bill hader”.

now you’re caught up.

on december 1st i got this message from user billhaderanti:

now i want to start by saying i absolutely was in the wrong here. i didn’t even think about how many people were being subjected to the asks i was getting - especially ones who had no idea they were all jokes. i don’t track the bill hader tag, so it just didn’t even occur to me - that’s ignorance on my part, and to anyone who was subjected to the terrors of me before my tagging system: i am genuinely sorry. i relay the same sentiment in my response, though you can tell i’m on edge.

and they replied:

clearly they Were offended by it but thats.. not the point. at this point, im feeling Really weird about the whole interaction, but still understanding, because again - i GET it. i know my posts are gross - that’s the point. it doesn’t make it excusable, though, which is why i understand why people are offended. so i responded with the only solution i Knew would keep us both safe and happy posting on our own blogs.

so i thought this would be the end of things! i’d been pretty anxious lately already since i’d started to receive anons telling me i was gross and whore-ish for thirst posting in this way (i delete all of those, so if ur thinking about sending one, i guess no one’s stopping you but it won’t be seeing the light of the dashboard). i’m unsure if it was immediately or a few hours later, seeing as how i have a bad concept of time and the post-dates are right on the edge between nov 30 and dec 1, but i went to their blog - because anyone who has been on the internet knows the opportunity to vague post is near irresistible. and...what do ya know

fair! it’s their blog. however i am an emotionally fragile egg girl and immediately got freaked out. the odds that they were the only one who thought this were low. and, again, i’ve been very open on my blog about how important it is to respect boundaries; my posts are absolutely prone to breaking those boundaries people have created for themselves.

so i made my own, semi-vague post, letting my following know (and i’m pretty sure i’d answered asks about it before, but this is going to be long enough w/o me searching those up too) that i understood if they wanted to block me or unfollow or whatever - people need to create their own safe spaces. the tension is pretty clear in the tags, i’m not trying to hide that. i felt that the way this woman slid into my dm’s was pretty abrasive (just my opinion/how it made me personally feel) and i let myself be a lil emotional about it in the tags of my post.

alright! maybe this is the end. maybe we both go our separate ways and post happily on our own blogs... except it’s not the end. later in the day (some of this was happening like 1/2am, so now its Day day, i believe - again, not good w time passage lol)

clearly, i’m upset. my groupchat double checked that i didn’t get too emotional in my response - did i mention im anxious about discourse lol - and apparently.. it did the trick. she didn’t message me again. great. it was over.

at this point, i decided i needed to make an even bigger change. so a few days after i’d calmed down i created an entirely new tag for my thirst posts so if people hadn’t already hidden the notsfw posts or just blocked me outright, they’d have a third option to escape the madness. at this point, id had my blog about 6? weeks, but there were still 2k posts for me to sift through - some of them were completely untagged. i also had to do it post by post, because one of xkits features - the mass re-tagger - was getting blogs deleted for some reason, and i wasn’t going to do that. so i spent a few days going through all 2k+ posts, adding the “fhg” tag.

YEEHAW! a brand new tagging system, no more hopping into the bill hader tag (minus one or two really funny, not super explicit asks, like the bill hader farquaad meme), and, tbf, i’d completely put this woman out of my mind. i don’t seek out drama and do my best to stay in my lane. yesterday, i checked my activity for the first time in awhile since id put out a couple new original posts that had started to get traction and i Love reading tags. i noticed a mutual had @’d me, and realized i havent checked my @’s in...ever, maybe. i see a post from my good pal billhaderanti.

since i dont follow them and never check my @’s, i’d completely missed it. however, once i did see it, i was horrified. id gone through all that fucking work to keep my blog My Blog and also respect everyone’s boundaries and it still hadn’t been enough. i’d been awake for almost 24 hours and went. a little crazy. and i didn’t reply immediately because i just had no words. i sent it to my friends because i... i just wasn’t going to be able to figure it out myself.

there’s a lot to unpack in this post alone, but whatever, i’m gonna put my own grievances with the immaturity of 1. making a callout post to begin with when i’d been nothing but civil 2. making a callout post about something as (in the grand scheme of Life) minor as some tags where i refer to a someone’s genitals as a “whack pack” and 3. making a callout post in such a rude way - aside. at the end, she calls me (and whoever else!) a demonic mlw (man loving woman, we assumed, and then later confirmed with a post further back on her blog).

which - yeah, we started scrolling. at first we were looking for more vague blogs, and then we just...started finding things. billhaderanti is a self proclaimed lesbian separatist, which... fine. but it’s already pretty clear that this woman hates me on some level simply because i am a bi woman (demonic mlw, remember!) which is just. damn man i can’t believe we are still fighting the biphobic fight lol. so the more we scrolled, the more we uncovered - and not just the biphobic / vaguely mtf transphobic things they posted (or put in tags), but we also found that they had their OWN thirst tags. certainly not as hyperbolically comedic as mine, but they were there, talking about his body and his person the same (and, frankly, a bit creepier for other reasons) as mine.

there’s one post in particular that snatched my wig in it’s creepiness - and i say creepiness in the sense that it feels personal. like this woman feels like she knows bill to some degree where she can say these things. my tags have always had a sense of distance, as they’re written for humor. and maybe this particular post was written for comedic purposes, but it doesn’t read that way, and if it WAS, then she has no right to call ME out for MY comic tags and posts.

i’ll let it speak for itself, mostly because i don’t want to read it again.

i also won’t be going through her blog again to find the posts with biphobic and other Interesting:tm: tags because there are plenty and i just really! want to be done with the whole ordeal! her blog is public and i’m sure you can all find it and look to your heart’s content.

feeling a bit feral and a bit pissed off now that we knew the depth of how rotten this woman’s vibes were, a couple of my pals made a post or two similar to what my tag’s are like except turned up to eleven (if possible) - and tagged them with “bill hader” (and notsfw!!). yes, a bit childish, but at this point, the entire situation was childish, and making jokes was truly the only way we were going to get through it. another vague post went up on her blog soon after.

talking down to us, calling us children, and then for whatever reason calling us virgins... whatever, weird post. around this time most of us (est) went to bed, because it was nearing 3 or 4 in the morning.

and then today happened. i woke up fresh and ready for the day after a wonderful 4 hours of sleep and found that jane had made an incredibly intelligent post in response to the situation. i won’t ss it, but i’ll LINK in case you missed it. attached there in the reblog is my own response. i think they can speak for themselves.

after that, things were kind of jumbled, since i wasn’t online a lot and when i was i was Not checking my activity simply because i was afraid of what i’d see. for the most part, it ended up just being support (which i am very grateful to all of you for - it means a lot that you all enjoy my content to any degree).

there was some more vague posting from both “““““sides”””””” of the “““““argument”””””” - mostly just people restating the fact that this is a public space and we should All be aware of how we effect others. i still hadn’t heard directly from billhaderanti, so i assumed we’d all be dropping and disengaging and moving on. i still wasn’t blocked, though, so who really knew what would happen.

eventually, it culminated in this last post. tw for mentions of rape

i’m going to start by saying that

1. there are nearly no teenagers that were involved in this. im turning 23 in january and most of my friends are 20+. maybe one or two are 19.

2. none of us sent any sexually violent asks - most of us didn’t send asks at all. i believe one or two of my friends admitted to sending asks however they assured me their nature wasn’t bad; as far as i know, everyone remained civil in whatever went on (again, unclear to me as to what was being sent; no one was actively posting or talking about it. if billhaderanti wishes to elaborate, they can, but i don’t have anything to put in).

3. before i finish this, i would like to apologize to billhaderanti. as a comedian - not just my stupid tags, i mean in real life, too - i know that humor can hurt. it’s not always funny, it’s not just stupid hahas. sometimes things that are supposed to be jokes just hit people differently and cause bad things. i recognize that. i never meant to trigger you (if you’re reading this) or cause you any severe mental/emotional harm. i apologize for my humor bringing up your trauma, and i never meant for that. regardless of my own thoughts and opinions about the nature of my posts/the thirst tags themselves, they hurt you, and i’m sorry.

anyway, i’m going to wrap this up (i’m bad at endings, what can i say! steven king and i took the same writer’s class!). if you read all this... sorry. i probably won’t be taking any asks about it, because i find the whole “drama” of this to be stupid and rooted in some seriously biphobic issues this fully grown woman has.

tldr; i attempted to contain my blog so this woman could exist and function safely on her blog, but it wasn’t enough for her, so she called me out, and then some of the fandom called Her out for being biphobic and mean and overall just immature about the situation. as of now, she’s yet to block me, though her and her wife have blocked a few of my friends. her wife continues to clown on my friends. this post was made for clarity’s sake. the end, i’m getting a drink.

#discourse #biphobia tw #transphobia tw #rape tw #ok goodbye im done with this im back to #only posting gay clown movie #Anonymous

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ofcacthuxandkylosaur · 3 years

Text

FAQ

1. Where do you find those AU’s?

Well, mostly those are the AUs that cross my dash - when I happen to be active on tumblr. So you see, it is a bit restrictive and means there are probably lots of AUs I never found and I don’t even know exist! Every once in a while, I try exploring blogs or using tumblr search engine. It gets me results, but not as much as you would expect (tumblr search engine is not the most effective tool for that kind of things...). My ask box is also open in case you want to suggest a new tag/new post (see Q4 & Q5).

2. Are new AU tags meant to be added on the list?

I intend to. But it vastly depends on the AUs that cross my path (see Q1) and of the time I can manage to spend on the list. But I am always happy to discover new AUs :) On a side note, I intend to edit this version of the list rather than posting new versions. As long as I don’t have to split it again it should be fine!

3. Do you continue tagging the posts you reblog?

Yes, I try. So if you click on the same tag now and then in a few months, you may see new posts. ‘May’ of course, because I don’t encounter every AU everyday and some AUs are more popular than others...

4. Can I suggest an AU tag?

Yes please! The more tags the better. I can’t guarantee I’ll add it to the list though. Maybe I already use a synonym (or a concept too close to create a new entry). I also need to have more than two posts about an AU to create a tag (otherwise, it will be tagged as “Other AU” and possibly “Other /thematicName/ AU”). So it is best you also suggest post(s) bond to the AU you suggest (please send me links to those or directly submit the post(s) otherwise I might never find them!). It can also take me a few weeks to effectively add the new tag to the list since I must check possible affiliations/redirections/proximity (see “HOW” section of ABOUT) and see if it fits in any thematic list.

I must also warn you that I reserve myself the right to refuse an AU I am really uncomfortable with (typically heavy gore and obvious/graphic abuse). I try to be inclusive but there are some things I can’t bring myself to reblog. You can try reblogging and tagging that AU yourself, then create a post with a ‘yourBlogName.tumblr.com/tagged/tagName’ type of link, and I might add a link to that one post in the list. To be discussed. However, I will not add a pe /dophilic AU to the list. Ever.

5. Can I suggest post(s) for existing AU tags?

Yes, please do!! You can send me the link via an ask or submit it. Just try to look at the post’s notes beforehand (”see notes”) to see if I haven’t reblogged it already.

6. Can I suggest a new thematic list?

Yes you can! I can’t guarantee I’ll have the time to make it, but it could happen. Please try to provide an explanation for the theme (to make sure I get what you mean), with maybe a definition and an example of which tags you can see belonging to it (and which you think don’t). Note that all the tags appearing on thematic lists already exist in the general AU list, so I won’t come up with new tags for a new thematic list.

7. What about Kylux adjacent?

I only included technicians (Matt/Techie), since it was the first adjacent paring to emerge. Also, since Matt is a radar technician he is still technically in the Star Wars universe. I wish I could have “tracked” every adjacent pairing but there are so many and I lost count. It would have taken me an incredible amount of time I didn’t have. If you happen to have your own tag list referencing all/part of those adjacent ships, you can contact me if you’re ok with me adding a link in my AU list redirecting people to your blog for Kylux adjacent.

8. The same post appears twice or more for the same AU. Is it normal?

No, I try to have each post to only appear once for each AU. BUT this list has been in the making for so long and some tags have so many posts that it is sometimes difficult to avoid duplication. If it bothers you, you can send me the links to those posts (all of them please) and I’ll try to settle it.

9. I am confused as to why you tagged a certain post like you did. Could it be a mistake?

It could. I do my best but sometimes it is hard to sort posts into tags. It could also be that the post comes from a series of posts and that it only becomes clear that the serie belongs to an AU when you read/see all the posts. Both scenari are an option, so feel free to message me about it.

10. I am the OP of a post and you definitively tagged it wrong...

Ooops sorry! Please send me an ask so I can settle this!

11. I encountered a broken/incorrect link inside the list...

That is not normal. All of the tags displayed in the list should be working. This is however possible. There are many tags and I might have made a mistake. Please send me an ask with the name of the broken tag so I can fix it!

12. In ABOUT you said that there needs to be more than two posts for an AU to become a tag. Yet I found an AU tag with only two posts...

It happens. As I said in ABOUT, this is a general rule, and there are exceptions. If there are only two posts, but (one of) those posts are(/is) long, contains multiple art or a combination moodboard/fic, I might decide to make it a tag anyway. If, on the contrary, you spot a tag with three or more posts that doesn’t have a proper tag in the list, please let me know!

13. I don’t understand why you tagged a specific post “other” alongside already existing tags...

“Other AU” is a default tag I use when there is no existing category fit for a post. A post tagged “other” can also be tagged “Other /thematicName/ AU” if it fits in any of the thematic lists. Also, you must remember that posts can be multi-tagged as a same post can have multiple “dimensions”. For example, it can depict a scene happening on a boat (”Cruise AU”) where Kylo happens to be a secret agent (”Agent Kylo AU”). Thus, if there’s a specific dimension about an AU that would justify the creation of a new tag, but I don’t have enough posts of that kind to actually create it (yet), the post will be tagged “other”, even though the other(s) dimension(s) are already depicted by existing tags. Let’s pretend that in the previous example, “Agent Kylo AU” was not yet part of the list. I would have tagged it “Cruise AU” and “other AU” (+ “Other Jobs AU”). I might even have added the “Agent Kylo AU” tag for internal purposes (so I can check how many of them I have and determine if it is time or not to add a new tag to the list).

14. A “Read More”/redirection link on a post doesn’t lead anywhere...

A “Read More” link redirects you to the OP blog. If the blog has changed name/been deleted or if the OP removed the post, you will end up nowhere. It is sad but you won’t be able to read the full post and there is nothing I can do about it. When it happens, you can however send me a message so that I can precise on the post that the “Read More” option is not an option anymore (please send me a link to my reblog of the post otherwise chances are I’ll never find it). Same goes for any other redirection link(s) present on the posts. If the page you were supposed to land on doesn’t exist anymore, I can’t do much about it, save warn people about it.

15. You reblogged comics in the wrong order...

Reblogging multiple pages comics is difficult. Either you reblog it entirely at once, either you reblog each page as it goes (the comic appears thus in reverse order in your blog). And if you miss some, it quickly becomes a mess. I tried to reblog relatively short comics at once, starting with the last part (so that the first page appears first when people scroll/navigate) but I often couldn’t. Some comics are not even complete, either because they were left unfinished, either because I just lost the thread. If there are navigation links within the posts, it is probably best you follow those. If not, maybe try to open the pages in different tabs and to order those accordingly. Or, and this is probably my best advice, try looking on the OP blog. They probably have a tag for their comic and it may make things easier!

16. You reblogged one of my posts and I’d rather not have it referenced by your list...

No problem! Please contact me I’ll untag it asap!

17. I have a question regarding the list that is not referenced above. Is it ok for me to ask it?

Yes, of course. Just be sure your answer doesn’t already lies in the ABOUT section (and refer to Q18 in case my answer doesn’t come too fast...).

18. I asked you a question but am still waiting for an answer...

Obviously (except if you were sending (anon) hate), I am not mad at you. I might need a few days to answer you. If a week has passed and I didn’t post an answer, chances are: 1) I didn’t see your message (tumblr eats it sometimes) or 2) I’ve been out of tumblr (busy with work, on holiday or something) or 3) my brain is not really complying at the moment. I do have down periods and, when it happens, I might not have the heart/energy to answer. It can last a few weeks or several months. I try to look at my inbox when I come back on this site but I might miss a message if too much have been sent. In any case, you can try and send your question again later.

See ABOUT for more general information

#my answers to questions/remarks #faq #tag list faq #my tag lists faq

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captain-lovelace · 4 years

Note

What qualifies as head trauma? Askin cuz a friend of mine needs it tagged but I'm not sure what it means, and I'd rather look stupid real quick than hurt them. Is it, like, art with head injuries?

Okay so first, I can’t tell you what your friend needs, so it might be best to ask them too? Their answer might overlap with mine, but there are almost certainly differences. That said, for me specifically “head trauma” includes both visual and textual descriptions of head injuries, including but not limited to:

- Skulls being crushed

- Exposed brains

- Dented skulls

- Any mention of brain melting

Etc. I personally can generally talk about head trauma fine most of the time (which is how we’re having this conversation), and if I’m prepared for it I can interact with media containing it sometimes, but being exposed to media with graphic descriptions/graphic images often sends me into prolonged anxiety attacks.

Finally, sometimes I don’t even know what will fall under that label until I see it and start panicking, so for me I prefer to have more things labeled than not just in case. If I click on something labeled head trauma because I’m curious and prepared and it turns out that it wouldn’t have hurt in the first place, then I’m no worse off, but if I see untagged head trauma it can prompt an immediate, intense emotional reaction that depending on certain other factors may make me unsafe. I’d much rather then first than the second.

(Speaking of tagging, I’d like to add on this post: I try to tag things appropriately, but if anyone needs me to tag certain things or if I’ve been too lax tagging something please just ask! It’s possible that I won’t be able to for whatever reason, but that’s unlikely.)

#horus answers asks #anon #head trauma #head trauma mention

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falling-red-petals · 5 years

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Tags

So since my tagging system is all over the place and inconsistent I’m just going to pick specific tags and do my best to use those for now on. Any post made prior to this one 9(m)/3(d)/19 7:00 pm, may not follow these tagging dynamics and so I’d proceed with caution in my earlier post. I don’t think I have many that could be triggering but just in case, for future reference, browse those posts with caution as it’s entirely possible they are untagged/not properly tagged.

“Neutral” Posts

abusive relationships should not be glorified

Maybe this belongs in “negative” but I don’t think it really counts personally. Basically, whenever this tag appears you can bet on it being about how abusive relationships in media are being romanticized, which I shouldn’t have to tell you is wrong/bad.

just life stuff

me rambling about my life, sometimes in a positive way, sometimes in a negative way.

dc comics/dc

I usually tag my DC stuff with either of these, so if you’re not interested in that, there you go. (I mention this because it has largely taken over my blog at this point, lol.

meme

I forget to use this one a lot.

“Negative” Posts + “Trigger (Caution)” Posts

Negative

Rant

Ignore This

I think the above three are pretty self explanatory. If they do need elaboration, please let me know.

Toxic Fandom

Sometimes my own fandoms deserve to be called out tbh. There’s some crazies here and there who try to ruin things for everyone else in a variety of terrible ways (like sending death threats to other fans or harassing the creators even when they’ve literally done nothing wrong).

Fandom Discourse

Likely self-explanatory.

Nasty Content Mention

This usually refers to incest or pedophilic ships, both of which I hate, and if you participate in it then stay away from me from now to forever. (This includes ships where the siblings are adopted or are step-siblings. Them not being related by blood doesn’t make the fact that you ship two characters who were very likely raised from early childhood if not infancy with one another any less gross. If you try to use that as a justification, you lose any right to speak to me. Lack of blood/DNA does not make people inherently “less” siblings to each other if they’ve grown up with each other).

This tag may also speak about real life cases or discussions of child sexual abuse, but I do not discuss this topic very often here.

Third option, it may also refer to instances of large, unhealthy age gaps in a so-called “romantic” relationship, where the older party met and began dating someone far to young for them.

Abuse tw / Abuse cw

I’ll always try to tag both when speaking of any kind of abuse from now on, but I may forget one or the other.

Gore tw / Gore cw

In the case anything I post is related to gore in some way (most likely as a gif or comic panel). I’ll always try to tag both, but I may forget one at times.

Eye Gore tw / Eye Gore caution warning

The above, but specifically eyes. I know people who can handle gore, but the second they see an eye get damaged they get sent into a panic attack or a vomiting fit.

Flashing Lights tw/Flashing Lights cw

I’ll try to use both but may forget one.

Blood tw/Blood cw

I’ll try to use both but may forget one.

Anti Miss Martian

I highly dislike this character from “Young Justice” for a multitude of reasons, and I’ve been going in and out of rant mode about her ever since Season 3 ended. It should be noted that she’s the only character I can remember actually making anti-posts about, and I think that says something.

Anti Supermartian

The canon Supermartian ship from YJ is a case of romanticist female-on-male abuse. I won’t get too into it on this post, but this relationship is bad and the fact that the writers keep pushing it as a good and healthy one is utterly appalling to me.

“Positive” Posts

Wholesome Content

This will typically just be cute images/videos of animals. Occasionally it will involve people or cute art.

Sometimes I tag things that make me smile with this.

You know ;) content

Content that is potentially lewd or sexual in nature.

#tags #tagging #should I include the tags discussed or...

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artistic-writer · 6 years

Text

Alii dimidium Lunam (The Other Half of the Moon) - CS Werewolf AU - Ch 21

Title: Alii dimidium Lunam (The Other Half of the Moon) by @artistic-writer artwork by @cocohook38 & @artistic-writer

Rating: E (overall rating) for explicit sexual content, language and themes throughout. Trigger warnings will follow and be added as they are needed to avoid spoilers.

Art by @cocohook38 - Poster - Emma - David - Killian - James - Walsh - Graham - Liam - Brennan - Ruby

Chapter Art by @cocohook38 - Ch1 - Ch2 - Ch3 - Ch4 (NSFW) - Ch5

Art by @artistic-writer - 1 - 2 - 3 -

Also on: AO3 - FF

A/N: Werewolf sunday! And oh look, Emma’s heat is over ;)

Massive thanks to my wonderful betas, @hookedonapirate who is one of the best beta’s this fandom has to offer - I seriously love her guys, and she deserves all the good things <3 <3 and @kmomof4 to whom this fic is also gifted for her birthday and for creating the @cssns Thank you to my crew, @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke @courtorderedcake @doodlelolly0910 and special thanks to @killian-whump @killianmesmalls and @sherlockianwhovian for how they helped with the last few chapters. And to @flipperbrain who drew THIS piece of art for this fic in December, before it was even written!

Taglist: @cssns @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate @winterbaby89 @courtorderedcake @initiala @cocohook38 @branlovesouat @teamhook @snidgetsafan @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @wingedlioness @lenfaz @therooksshiningknight@ilovemesomekillianjones @bmbbcs4evr @blowmiakisscolin @deathbycaptainswan @onceuponaprincessworld @chinawoodfan @seriouslyhooked @snowbellewells @wordsmith-storyweaver @jennjenn615 @delightfully-difficult-pirate @doodlelolly0910 @tiganasummertree @hookedmom @thejollyroger-writer @rachie1940 @unworried-corsair @cs-forlife

Want to be tagged/untagged? TELL ME HERE

——————————————————————————————

There was a storm when Emma awoke the next day, the grey skies stopping any light from penetrating the windows of Liam’s loft and the sound of hailstones bouncing off the panes of glass in each window. The room was dull, an invisible fog making every colour muted, which heightened the ambience of the storm raging outside. Emma’s eyeballs rolled under her lids, tiny white specks dancing around in the blackness, her brain trying to catch up to the sound she was hearing, processing each tap against the glass, one after another.

She shifted her weight, one leg rubbing against the hairy calf of the man who was asleep next to her, their legs entangled under the thin sheet that covered them as they lay awkwardly askew. They had spent most of the night making love, holding each other after each euphoric release that had left them both exhausted and wanting more. Neither had wanted to sleep, unable to accept the fact that they might be holding each other, feeling each other, for the last time. Neither had wanted to stop gazing upon the other.

Each moment was precious, the night turning into day quicker than they had realised. Emma swallowed a thick lump down her dry throat and curled her body closer to Killian’s, the warmth from his naked form enveloping her and making the hair under her hairline flush hotter than usual. Emma peeled one eye open, the smile on Killian’s face even in sleep, catching her eyes immediately as he slumbered on his front next to her, his face pressed into the pillow and Emma resting her head on his forearm.

His hair was a mess, likely from how many times she had raked her fingers across his scalp the night before and the ear she could see still bore the light bruising inflicted by her teeth when she had bit down on the tough, pointy flesh. Emma smirked, recalling the noises he had made, the way he had sighed her name time and time again like it was his last earthly breath, and her name was all he could say.

The gentle rise and fall of his lungs made his muscles ripple across his back, a soft rumble vibrating in the back of his throat as he exhaled into the pillowcase. There was a slight flush in his cheeks, still, and Emma couldn’t help but reach over and push a stray strand of hair from his forehead. Killian’s nose wrinkled but he stayed asleep, his lips sucking in as he heaved a sigh and relaxed back into his dream state.

Not even the rumble of thunder outside woke him, and when a flash of lightning illuminated his face, it caused no stir. Emma smirked, watching him sleep and getting lost in his visage, each feature of his face as enticing as the last. Emma couldn’t help herself and let her hand slip along the side of his face, her thumb gently caressing the raised, reddened scar on his cheek so softly he probably couldn't feel it.

Emma knew Killian had fought to get to where he was. A mongrel life would not have been easy, especially if he had crossed paths with other wolves along the way, and it warmed her heart to know that he would fight for her. Emma knew he had fought Walsh at least once before, and an unsettled pang dug itself into her gut as she recalled the horrific sounds he had made when he had been tortured. Forcing a change as Walsh had was barbaric, the stuff of nightmares, and Walsh would pay for what he had done.

Emma let her hand skim down Killian’s neck, the slow pulse there thrumming against her fingertip as she brushed over the new scars under his jawline. She traced the curve of his shoulder, outlining it with her palm, before pushing herself into a sitting position and watching the movement of her hand as it explored his trunk. Emma had never really looked at Killian’s back before now, unless in wolf form, and she gulped hard at the sight of it. He was littered with scars, most of them clearly from bites and scratches, the jagged edges always healing to leave a distinctly shaped scar she had seen many times before.

She tentatively brushed her fingers over the skin between the since healed wounds, skirting her fingertip over the bumpy flesh of each scar in case she woke him. He groaned a little in his sleep, his whole body vibrating with the sound, raspy and deep in his chest, and Emma noticed his brows furrow when she touched a particularly thick line of scar tissue towards his liver. A row of distinctive puncture holes had healed at his side, the arrangement of scars clearly a bite mark that gave Emma more questions than answers.

“Please,” Killian rasped suddenly and Emma pulled her hand away from his skin with a gasp. His eyes were still firmly closed, crinkling at the edges as he pinched them even more tightly closed, his lips parting slightly as his breath became shallow. He shifted his weight, rolling over onto his back in one fluid movement and letting his head flop to one side, facing away from her. Emma waited, holding her breath, but he was definitely still asleep.

The rain increased outside, crashing into the windows and making the room deafeningly loud. Streaks ran down the panes, flowing like tears along the edges of the frames and Emma had only looked away for a second when she heard Killian take a sharp intake of a catching breath. She looked back to his slumbering figure, new scars glowing a silvery white along his sides as he gasped for more shallow breaths.

“Don’t,” Killian stuttered weakly, his head twitching on the pillow and his hands closing around nothing, grasping out at anything he could. Emma leaned forward, planting her hand to his chest, the scars warming under her hand immediately and Killian’s body relaxing into her touch. He sighed, soothed but the sadness still etched on his face as Emma skimmed her hand across his torso and inspected the other half of the bite mark she could see.

Without warning, Killian’s arm shot up and he wrapped his hands around Emma’s arm in a crushing grip, the skin around her wrist turning white. She contained a cry, the silent sound of pain leaving her mouth in nothing more than a squeak and Killian held her hand in place, his jaw clenching in anger as he held her hand from his skin. Emma covered her mouth with her other hand, pinching her eyes closed and swallowing hard, before blinking back tears and peeling her eyes open to see Killian staring straight at her.

“Don’t,” he repeated, his glassy stare fixed on her and his voice laced with a pleading sorrow that broke Emma’s heart.

“I’m sorry,” Emma whispered quickly, tugging against his hold. Killian relaxed his grip and Emma’s hand immediately went to his face, soothing his panic inducing nightmare that had clearly tumbled over into reality when she had touched his scar. It meant something, she could tell, and when she saw his expression soften, she gave him a warm smile.

“Emma, I-,” Killian began sheepishly, licking his lips nervously and blinking himself awake. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He worried quickly, eyes flickering over her arm.

“It’s okay,” Emma told him softly, her thumb caressing his cheek in smooth, rhythmic strokes. It wasn’t much, it was just two little words and a few light touches, but they both felt like it meant so much more at that moment. Finally, Killian’s lips twitched into a shy smile. “Want to talk about it?” Emma cocked her head sideways, her hair falling to cover her knees.

Killian shook his head and found her hand with his, turning it upside down and turning his face to kiss her palm. Emma felt a tingle shoot through her arm right down to the pit of her stomach, the supple, kiss bruised flesh of Killian’s lips setting her skin on fire instantly. When he was done, he pulled her sideways and Emma followed his lead, settling herself across his torso and letting the sheet fall from her naked body.

“Was it a nightmare?” Emma asked him, shuffling her weight until she was practically sitting across his chest, legs tucked up under his armpits and her hands finding the length of his beard. Her digits smoothed through the growth, each twisted, coarse hair tickling her fingers and Killian humming in appreciation of her touch.

“Nothing to worry about,” he assured her, letting his eyes fall closed as Emma scratched through his facial hair. “Just one from a long time ago.”

“You’ve had it before?” Emma asked softly, feeling Killian’s skin tighten under her assault.

Killian nodded limply. “An old childhood trauma, that’s all.”

“Like my shifting accident in the lake?” Emma smirked, feeling much more at ease about telling her story. She knew Killian would never keep anything from her, but she also recognised his reluctance to relive the memory in his own mind. He wasn’t hiding things from her, he was just not ready to face it.

Her reference made Killian smile a toothy grin and his eyes reopened to meet hers. “Aye, something like that, love.” He said no more, and Emma understood.

“But you’re okay?” Emma asked softly. “Last question, I promise,” she giggled, flattening her body to his and kissing his cheek. Her hands held his head in place whilst her lips assaulted his face, exaggerated kiss sounds echoing into the room and drowning out the sound of the rain.

“I am now,” Killian smirked with a chuckle. His hand smoothed over her back, fingertips dancing over the ridge of her shoulder blades and over each bump on her spine. Emma sucked in a breath and Killian grinned against the side of her face when she buried her face in his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be so easily distracted, Mr Jones,” Emma cooed salaciously, the heat in her core beginning to burn at her insides. She was raw, still swollen from the night before, but she couldn’t help but want Killian, even with the day marking the end of her heat. She had felt it start to fade away during the night, her core temperature returning to normal and the slickness between her thighs less every time Killian had brushed her body in his sleep.

“You shouldn’t be so distracting, Miss Nolan,” Killian growled, planting his hands firmly on her bare behind and pulling her higher up his body. Emma squealed, unable to stop him as he caught one of her nipples in his mouth, making her arch her back towards him and dig her nails into the headboard. Killian sucked hard against the rosy flesh, pulling it into a stiff peak and humming against Emma’s skin, the twitch of his erection not going unnoticed below his waist. “Your heat is ending,” he said idly, dragging his tongue between the mounds that hung just in front of his face.

“You can smell that?” Emma blushed, sitting back to look down at him. Killian let her move, reluctant to let go of the globes of her ass, he held her so she had no choice but to arch her back away from him and rest her hands on his hip bones.

“Amongst other things.” Killian smirked and raised an eyebrow at her, pulling her even higher up his chest with little resistance until her thighs sat over his shoulders and her sex was almost touching his lips. He nuzzled her folds, inhaling her enticing scent that was a little more muted than it had been, but no less aromatic. Emma watched him, her breath catching in her throat and her heart pounding beneath her ribcage, the blood pounding in her ears and between her now open legs.

Emma’s hand found his head and her fingers scrunched his hair, pulling gently with a sexual frustration she thought had left her. It seemed Killian could draw pleasure out of any part of her, at any time, and like an addict, she would gladly take her next fix. There was a pause, his eyes meeting hers, the blue that she had always found so warm and comforting long since replaced by a dark grey that rivalled the storm clouds above them.

“What are you waiting for?” Emma teased with a coy smile. She snaked her hand down the front of her own body, purposely brushing her nipples into much harder buds than before and settled her hand between her thighs. Killian watched her nimble fingers part her outer lips, the glistening treasure that lay beneath flooding his senses with the smell of her arousal. He nibbled his bottom lip and felt himself grow even harder at the sight before him. When he looked back up to her, swallowing hard, Emma smirked, rolling her own bottom lip between her teeth innocently. “Do you need an invitation?”

“Absolutely not.” Killian gave her a wicked grin, his lips barely moving before he closed the gap between his lips and Emma’s sex and pressed a kiss to her clit. Emma moaned instantly, her back curving and pushing her hips harder into his ministrations, the breath leaving her lungs on a heavy, relieved sigh. She hadn’t even known how wound up she was until she had opened her eyes and seen Killian beside her, the memories of the night before coming back to her in a flood of emotions.

Emma rolled her hips a little more, hissing through her teeth when a tingling sensation rippled through her lower abdomen. Killian flicked his gaze up to meet her eyes again, giving her a heavy lidded, sly smile as he tortured her clit with his tongue, circling the throbbing nub with just the tip of his talented muscle.

“Fuck, Killian,” Emma hissed, her cheeks tingling with a blush. She rolled her hips again, her free flowing juices coating Killian’s chin. He let out a breathy laugh at her state, swiping his tongue around her entrance and along the inside of her fleshy lips, teasing her with the prospect of tasting her more intimate areas. Emma groaned in frustration, glaring at the man between her thighs.

“I’m sorry, love,” Killian offered between licks, Emma’s arousal coating his tongue and sliding pleasantly down his throat when he swallowed. “You just taste so-,” he began with a dreamy tone, but Emma’s hands pulling at his haircut him off. Killian stopped, wincing slightly at her sudden aggression and looked up her body once more.

“Touch yourself,” Emma commanded darkly. “Touch yourself and fuck me with your tongue.”

A surge of adrenaline coursed through Killian, more blood impossibly rushing to his rock hard erection at Emma’s words. He grabbed her behind again, holding her to his face as he plunged his tongue inside of her and let out a hum of appreciation at the taste that coated his mouth. Emma went heavy, leaning back on his chest, her entire body overcome with pleasure, each nerve ending firing at the same time and rendering her almost completely helpless. All she could do was cry out, his name on her lips like a prayer, her nails digging into where her hand lay flat on his torso behind her.

When he was happy with the agonizing rhythm he was setting, Killian slipped his hand from her fleshy globes and slid it down his own body and took himself in hand. He was like marble, solid and heavy in his hand, a light drizzle of pre-cum already having oozed onto the thatch of hair covering his stomach. Emma ground down on his tongue, riding his face wantonly and Killian increased the speed of his masturbation when Emma began tugging at her nipples.

The sound of the rain blended into the sound of blood in her ears as Emma felt the coil in the belly begin to tighten, her inner muscles flexing against Killian’s tongue each time he was inside of her and her clit begging for his attention when he was not. Killian lathed her nub, gently scraping his teeth over the ultra sensitive bud with a cruel smirk, watching the way Emma’s face contorted with her impending orgasm.

“Are you going to come on my face?” Killian growled as he took a breath, thrusting his hips up into his hand, his velvety soft skin shifting over his erection and building his own release low in his belly.

“Fuck, yes,” Emma hissed, throwing her head back.

“Am I going to make you come hard, love?” Killian was almost shaking underneath her, his words earning him a whine from the goddess currently straddling his face. He focused on her clit where he knew Emma had been building the most powerful orgasm, the steady throb of blood to the nub so obvious, he had felt it on his lips each time he gave it a gentle kiss.

“God, yes,” Emma cried with a pained sound. She was so close her thighs had begun to quake and her breathing had slowed to a pant, a heat creeping up her spine. “So hard. Killian, don’t stop, right there.”

“Like this?” Killian purred, increasing his speed over the hardened nub.

“There!” Emma gasped, looking back down between her thighs. She felt a rush of arousal at seeing Killian eating her out, his eyes pinched closed in his own pleasure and his hand furiously pounding his length behind her, and without warning, her orgasm hit her suddenly. She squeaked, covering her mouth quickly and she began to shake through Killian’s licking, each flick of his tongue like a new kind of torture against her clit.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, Killian sat up, and in one swift move she was sliding down his torso and being impaled on his hot, hard length. She cried out, the sudden intrusion of his girth heightening her already fluttering orgasm to a new level, the spots behind her eyes never ceasing as she bumped her clit on his pubic bone and came again.

“My, my,” Killian teased darkly, watching her face contort and her eyes roll back in her head. She was a blubbering mess, in a daze from back to back orgasms that had left her incoherent and limp in his arms, weakly grinding herself against him to extend her pleasure with a whimpering groan. “Such a wanton thing.”

“Don’t fucking tease me,” Emma panted, her forehead sticky with sweat. She rocked her hips harder, desperately needing him to move inside of her, anything, the lack of friction too frustrating to bear. “Please.”

Killian was close too, his own orgasm slowly being coaxed out by the ripple of Emma’s muscles and the sopping wetness that had dribbled out as she came, whimpering her pleas. It had been too long, their need to use protection now extinct because Emma’s heat was over, and Killian’s couldn’t wait one more second to feel her wet, slick heat around his unsheathed length. He smoothed his hands through her hair, brushing it from her flustered face and seized her lips in a ferocious kiss. All Emma could do was moan into his kiss, begging against his mouth to stop in almost a cry as his length rubbed a new pleasure point inside of her.

“Killian, please,” Emma whimpered, her body teetering on the edge of euphoria again, her entire being shaking in his lap.

“I’ve missed this feeling,” Killian panted, kissing her eyelids. “I can’t take those blasted condoms any more.” Killian smirked wickedly, the sweat along his brow running down his temple as he slowed his assault and let her still on top of him. Emma whined, but she was glad for the respite, her nipples like pebbles against Killian’s chest as she sagged into his arms.

“No more,” Emma sighed in agreement, her chest heaving for breath and her insides throbbing painfully. “God, you’re amazing,” Emma panted, the fluttering sensation between her thighs begging for him to move again. Killian let out a breathy laugh, kissing the underside of her jaw in a hungry, open mouthed kiss.

“You’ve got one more in you, love,” Killian purred. “I can feel it.”

“Please,” Emma gave him a salacious smile and a raise of her eyebrow, carding her fingers through his hair. “Make me come.”

“Aye,” Killed panted, his cock twitching inside of her. “I think,” he said smoothly, plucking her arms from where they rested on his shoulders and gently moving them behind her back. Emma gave him a broad grin, her excitement intensifying as she complied, crossing her wrists over each other behind her back and letting him gather them up in his hands. “Slow and shallow should do the trick.”

In a sitting position, Killian could only thrust shallowly, but he rolled his hips against the mattress to make sure to cause enough friction against every detail of Emma’s inner core. Her eyes rolled back in her head again, the sheen of sweat over her body beginning to cool her in the chill of their room, and she ground her clit down against his body on each thrust.

It was agony, a delicious torture that only Killian could provide, but he was right. She had one more in her and when Killian felt her tell tale pull at his length and heard Emma’s breath hitch in her throat, he knew he would come too. Seeing Emma come undone was one of the most erotic things for him and he loved the way she chased after every last drop of her pleasure. With a grunt he came at the same time she did, pulling hard on her wrists to keep her body still as he emptied himself inside of her with a few short, hard thrusts.

Emma finally wiggled her arms free when she felt him relax, grabbing his face in her hands and kissing his mouth awkwardly, most of her attention at the corner of his smile as he wrapped her up in his arms protectively. He gave her a squeeze, his muscles bulging against her skin as he kissed her back, lips smacking and lingering against each other as the storm continued outside.

“I’ll always keep you safe,” Killian promised softly, his words a breath against the skin of Emma’s bosom. He had shifted their position and they were now laying back in bed, his head resting sleepily against her chest, her fingers stroking through his sleep and sex messed hair in a slow, soothing motion. Emma kicked out the sheet that was wedged beneath them and shook it loose, letting it flutter to cover them both once more.

“I know,” Emma said with a nod and a hint of sadness. She didn’t know what returning home would bring, no one would, and the longer they waited the more anxiety built up inside both of them.

Killian brushed his thumb over her ribcage, staring at the wall beside the bed. “I wish I could tell you what the dream means. The longer I don’t know, the more I’m starting to think that the headstone is for me.”

“Don’t say that.” Emma stopped her stroking and let him tilt his head up to look at her. She caressed his cheek, her heart cracking in her chest at the sorrow she saw in his eyes. “And the other is not me,” she told him firmly. “So you can stop thinking that right now.”

Killian gave her a warm smile. “How do you know me so well?” He teased, echoing her question from a while ago.

“Fate,” Emma told him firmly. “And that can be changed, so even if the names are ours, we’ll make sure they don’t become our reality.”

The smile that Emma gave him was weak, partly forced, but genuine all the same. She leaned forward, cupping Killian’s cheek in her palm as she kissed him, his hands still against the sides of her body. His touch was electrifying on her skin and Emma felt the skin around her nipples prickle again, her lips curving into a smirk against his when Killian’s hand slid to the pebbled nub.

“Fate has other ideas for us right now,” he growled, pulling his lips from hers and giving her one last dark, lust filled stare before taking the bud in his mouth and rolling his tongue over Emma’s nipple. She arched her back instinctively, watching him suckle her breasts like a hungry babe, a groan tumbling from his lips as he shifted his weight to accommodate his now growing erection.

“Killian!” The room’s ambience was shattered instantly as the door flew open and Liam barged over the threshold, unable to stop himself from looking directly at his younger brother and Emma’s breasts. “Oh, shit!” he screeched, quickly turning away from the scene before him, pinching his eyes closed and trying to erase the images from his mind.

“Bloody Hell, Liam!” Killian spat, annoyed. He hastily covered Emma with his body, tugging the sheet up higher over his shoulders so she could hide in the darkness it cast over them.

“I am so sorry, lass,” Liam stammered to Emma, rubbing his temples nervously.

“It’s okay, really,” Emma assured him from under his brother, stifling her laugh against Killian’s forearm beside her head.

“What do you want? We’re busy.” Killian ground out through clenched teeth, Emma’s slender figure writhing against his length beneath him. She gave him a coy smirk that she knew Liam couldn't see, and proceeded to suck her finger salaciously.

“Might I remind you that is my bed, Killian,” Liam countered angrily, waving his arm behind him towards the bed that he was one hundred percent sure he would have to now burn.

“Get to the point then,” Killian spat, mesmerized by Emma’s tongue as it licked up and down her finger tantalisingly slowly.

“Fine,” Liam grunted, bending over and hurriedly grabbing at Killian’s jeans. They had been his, borrowed after Killian’s clothing had shredded during his encounter with Walsh, but now he was sure he wouldn’t need them anymore. He tossed them at the bed, making sure the denim bundle hit Killian square in the back. “Get dressed.”

“Why?” Killian grumbled with a wince. Emma bit her bottom lip and he cocked his head to the side, begging her with a silent glare to relent her teasing.

“I just got a call from Father,” Liam said hurriedly, retrieving a nearby shirt and throwing it at his brother.

“What did he say?” Killian’s cheeks went pale, even though he was leaning over Emma’s body, and she placed a palm to his cheek to help him remain calm. Any mention of his father sent him into a state but she could always keep him grounded.

“Just get dressed,” he said firmly. “I’ll tell you in the lounge.”

Ten minutes later, Killian and Emma had joined Liam in the lounge. He avoided Emma’s gaze as they exited the bedroom, a pink tinge flushing his cheeks which made her lips twitch up into a knowing smirk. Emma was not embarrassed by her body, she never would be, but it seemed living in the fringes of werewolf society had given Liam a complex about seeing another person naked, especially a woman, in his bed, having her breast sucked by his brother.

Liam cleared his throat, motioning for them to sit down on the couch. Killian sat down first, positioning himself sideways so that Emma had no choice but to slide into his lap, his strong arms wrapping themselves around her body and hugging her tightly, almost possessively. The mention of his father had triggered his need to hold on to the ones he loved, both Emma and Liam, and Killian would be lying if he wasn’t apprehensive about what Liam had to say.

“I’m sorry again,” Liam told Emma softly, rubbing his hands together to try and eradicate some of the sweat from his palms. Emma simply nodded at his apology, her arm looping around Killian’s neck and her hand flattening to his bare shoulder. He was in only his jeans and Emma had put on her bra and panties, deciding to dress in Killian’s tee because the smell was comforting.

“What did Father say?” Killian prodded impatiently, his bare feet sticking to the hardwood floor and his toes flexing against the grain of the wood.

“Neverland is ready,” Liam said sadly, watching the floor between his feet. “Father says they have begun preparations for the attack.”

“So, it’s today?” Emma asked quickly, her fingers gently idling in the hair that grew on the back of Killian’s neck.

“Aye,” Liam nodded, lifting his gaze and looking between the both of them. “It seems that way.”

“Then we have to go,” Emma looked at Killian, the lump in her throat suddenly too hard to swallow comfortably. “My family could be in trouble.”

“I don’t like this,” Killian said concerned. “It feels like a trap.” His eyes met Liam’s across the low coffee table between them and he felt Emma’s hands still on his neck, the tension there clearly interrupting her lazy massage. He still didn’t know if he trusted his father, he barely knew the man, and he wasn’t sure he was willing to risk his or Emma’s life to find out if Brennan was telling the truth or leading them into a trap.

“Do you really think our father would lie to us?” Liam’s head flopped to one side, sympathetically pleading with Killian to trust him.

“I don’t know. Would he?” Killian asked his brother with a bite to his words.

“I think what Killian means,” Emma began, looking between the brothers, “is this information has been handed to us very conveniently.”

“Father said you wouldn’t trust him,” Liam scoffed, shaking his head.

“Would you?” Killian spat, raising his eyebrows at his brother. Emma could feel his rage bubbling beneath the surface, his leg muscles underneath her growing more tense by the second. His fist clenched where it rested on her naked thigh and she shot him a glance, flattening a placating hand to his hairy chest.

“Hey,” Emma said soothingly, drawing his attention to her face. He looked up and she gave him a warm, comforting smile, her fingers gently scratching through his chest hair. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and I wish more than anything that I had stayed in that alleyway to help you fight-,”

“They would have done worse to you,” Liam interrupted and Killian flashed him a dark stare.

“You’re right,” Emma nodded in agreement. “And I will live the rest of my life knowing that you saved me.” She looked back to Killian who had dropped his head to watch his balled fist turning white on her lap. He flexed the muscles, watching his forearm ripple this way and that, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he ground his teeth. “I would give anything to trade places with you, to take away the nightmares,” Emma soothed softly, watching her hand as she ran her nimble fingers over Killian’s furrowed brow. “We can’t change what happened, but we can make them pay,” Emma said sadly, looking back to Liam who wished more than anything he could take away the pain his brother was feeling.

Killian, despite putting on a strong facade, was still hurt, damaged by what Walsh had done to him in the forest and he had been letting his anxiety overshadow his ability to see clearly. Emma knew as well as Liam did that Killian would never fully heal unless he expressed his anger, and as much as she enjoyed his attentions, fucking and running through the forest was never going to fix the broken parts of his mind. Killian needed to face his abuser head on.

Killian needed closure. He needed revenge.

“Brother, I’m not asking you to trust him,” Liam began. “But you trust me, don’t you?”

Killian’s head snapped up to meet his brother’s and he gave him a confused look. “Of course I do.”

“Then trust that I know our father is telling the truth,” Liam said firmly. “Please.”

Emma’s hand found his face, cupping his jaw in her palm and chasing away the knot in his gut. He looked up to her beautiful face, the soft wisps of her golden hair sticking out in all directions, untamed but no less lovely, and she gave him a gentle smile. Her lips were soft and inviting, pink from slight bruising, and the serenity Killian felt was overwhelming. He let his head drop to her chest and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tenderly as she placed a soft kiss to the back of his head.

“It’s okay to be scared,” she told him compassionately as if she had forgotten Liam sitting opposite them. “I’m scared too.”

“I’m not scared of dying,” Killian said finally, lifting his head. He gave her one last fleeting glance that broke her heart in two before looking over to his brother. “I’m scared of losing myself.”

Liam knew exactly what Killian was talking about. The night they had fought Walsh might have been over a decade ago, but Liam would never forget the look on Killian’s face when he thought he might have taken a life. He was elated, a darkness rising to the surface behind his previously kind eyes and showing Liam the true nature of his wolf side. Killian was a fighter, his scar littered body attested to that, and Liam knew that it wouldn’t be long before Killian finally couldn’t hold back the canine urge to kill any longer.

“You won’t,” Liam told his brother firmly. “I swear it, brother.”

“He needs to pay,” Killian growled darkly.

“And he will,” Emma chimed in softly, her hands running through Killian’s hair and bringing him back to the light. He looked up to her with an apologetic look, blinking away the darkness behind his blue eyes and feeling the warmth of her smile wash over him. “If he survives the attack, my father will make sure of it.”

Killian sobered a little at the mention of David Nolan, the Misthaven pack leader who had put a bounty on his head. He knew she was right. For what he had planned for his daughter, David would make sure Walsh suffered, but what would he do to a mongrel who had fallen in love with his daughter?

“I’ve called Graham,” Liam announced to both of them. “I am going to stay at the cabin with Ruby and Davin, just in case any Neverland wolves have followed their scent there. He is going to meet you at Misthaven.” Liam stood, flattening down the wrinkles in his shirt and heaving a sigh as he made his way around the coffee table. “Make sure you keep the Neverland wolves occupied at Misthaven. I’ll protect Ruby and the babe.”

Killian helped Emma to stand and mirrored his brother, both of them facing each other and speaking with the unspoken bond that they had always had. They didn’t have to say anything; they just knew what the other was thinking. “Good luck,” Liam said, giving him a tight lipped smile and extending his hand to his brother.

Killian looked at Liam’s hand between them briefly, before taking his brother’s hand in his and holding on hard. He shook it once, his knuckles turning white, before yanking hard and pulling his brother into the tightest embrace they had ever had. Liam wrapped a strong arm around his brother, his hand finding the back of Killian’s head and holding him tightly, neither saying a word.

Liam was petrified of losing his brother but he had to stay strong. He was the older sibling and had always needed to carry the weight of sorrow. Killian was too fragile to cope with loss, but damn if he wasn’t the bravest wolf Liam had ever known. Liam knew what would happen if Killian were to lose Emma, he could see it now as clear as day, and he finally understood his brother’s need to protect her, even if it was from her own family and could mean his demise. He didn’t hate Emma at all. How could he? She was the light that drove away the darkness within his brother’s soul.

They parted, Killian hastily wiping away a stray tear that had fallen from his eyelids during the embrace. Emma placed a hand to his back, just to let him know she was there, and that she always would be.

“Good luck, Emma,” Liam told her with all of the sincerity he could muster. “Maybe when this is over, we can get to know each other a little better? I’d love to get to know the woman who has tamed my little brother.”

“Younger,” Killian huffed, feebly landing a punch on Liam’s arm.

“I’d like that,” Emma smiled warmly, lacing her fingers with Killian’s and resting her face to his bicep.

“Graham said he would be at Misthaven within two hours,” Liam told them quickly, checking the time of his watch. “That gives you guys a little over ninety minutes to prepare.”

“We’re ready,” Killian said firmly, looking down at the she-wolf beside him. Emma nodded, pressing her lips to his shoulder with a nod. “I’ll call you when it's over,” Killian promised his brother.

“Thank you,” Liam sighed, relief flowing from his every cell as he made his way towards the door of his apartment. He paused, hand on the door handle before turning back to the half naked couple in his lounge. He fixed his stare on Emma, licking his lips nervously. “Bring him back to me,” he said in a broken voice that cracked in his throat. Emma had no time to answer before Liam was gone, the faint echo of his footsteps as he made his way down the stairs the only sound in the loft.

#alii dimidium lunam #ch21 #cs fic #cs au #cs werewolf au #temporary dog au #angst #smut #wolves of misthaven

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brilliantorinsane · 6 years

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Sherlock Holmes, 1899: Detective 2.0 (Part 1)

Note: As always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged :)

… Look, I said I wasn’t going to write about this one. And I know that it hardly counts as an. ‘obscure’ adaptation, although to be fair it doesn’t appear often in tumblr discussions. But Sherlock Holmes by William Gillette is the first ever licensed Holmes adaptation, so of course I had to read it, and then I had thoughts and—well, here we are.

This is the fourth installment of my series on obscure Sherlock Holmes adaptations. For a master-list of previous write-ups, see this post.

Production and Reception

William Gillette’s Sherlock Holmes exists in two primary iterations. The first is a play released in 1899 (you can read the script here), and the second is a 1916 silent-film starring several of the stage actors, including Gillette as Holmes. This post will discuss the play only; I will review the film in part 2.

The original script for Sherlock Holmes was written by Doyle, but his script was rejected and heavily reworked by William Gillette. Gillette’s script showcases an original plot, although it features Moriarty and Alice Falukner, a loose Irene Adler analogue. Disappointingly, the parallel between Alice and Irene is purely circumstantial: Alice has much of Irene’s courage but none of her active cleverness, and is reduced to a paper-thin damsel-in-distress. This is even more unfortunate given that—contrary to Doyle’s wishes—Gillette makes her Holmes’s love interest, thus initiating the hellish proliferation of Adler/Holmes storylines. So … thanks for that one, Gillette.

The play was wildly successful, and Alan Barns asserts that it has been “crucial to the development of Sherlock Holmes on film … [i]ts impact cannot be overestimated.” Even Doyle appears to have softened towards the play after seeing it performed, and is quoted by Vincent Starrett as saying: “I was charmed both with the play, the acting, and the pecuniary result." Whether Doyle was more pleased by the art or the currency is perhaps unclear.

For myself, insofar as it is the first Holmes adaptation I find this play fascinating; but insofar as it is just one of many retellings, my feelings are mixed. I confess I kept comparing it to Doyle’s stage adaptation of The Speckled Band (you can read the script here and my analysis here), and Gillette’s play seldom looked better for it. I found Doyle’s plot more compelling, his villain more threatening, and his characters more vibrant. All the same I was not bored reading Gillette’s play, got a few laughs, appreciated Gillette’s Watson and was intrigued—if not wholly pleased—by his Holmes.

But I hope you don’t think me terribly petty if I confess that I struggle to entirely forgive Gillette for launching the legacy of Holmes adaptations with a ‘straight’ Holmes.

William Gillette as Sherlock Holmes

There are things I quite like about Gillette’s Holmes. He is deeply composed, but fully capable of action and self-defense. He has plenty of snark, is openly affectionate with his Watson, yet is deeply troubled—he cannot be accused of being without feeling.

Nevertheless, I suspect that he played a large role in establishing the stereotype of the hard-boiled detective, the DFP, the detached and cold-hearted reasoning machine. Gillette consistently leans into Holmes darker and more reserved qualities: his Holmes is almost always composed and never excited—although he is often quietly amused—and there is little sense of his love for an audience. The extremity of his cocaine habit is emphasized, to the point that he is clearly suicidal—an aspect that is belabored rather frequently.

But the thing that really irks me is the case. The case is loosely based on A Scandal in Bohemia, in which Holmes is working for a prince in an attempt to gain incriminating letters/pictures from a woman. Scandal is an anomaly in the canon insofar as Holmes is not strictly on the side of justice—either in the audience’s eyes or his own—and yet goes through with it (x). This is distinctly unusual for a man who ordinarily allows nothing, including the law, to sway him from what he sees as true justice. And yet it is this dark deviation that Gillette chooses as the framework for presenting Holmes to a new and wider audience.

And look—there’s nothing wrong with exploring Holmes’s darker side. But I still struggle with the characterization on two levels:

I’m not saying the persistence of this darker Holmes in public imagination was Gillette’s fault; he’s hardly responsible for all adaptations that followed his. I just … I just would have liked the legacy of Holmes adaptations not to begin with a straight, hard(er)-hearted Holmes.

Frankly, I find the ‘borderline-cruel straight white guy is redeemed because a pretty young girl saw his secret golden heart’ plot infinitely more tired and less compelling than the complex, transgressive, damaged, but deeply kind character Doyle created.

Edward Fielding as John Watson

If Gillette perpetuated some of my least favorite Holmes stereotypes, on the whole the same cannot be said of his portrayal of Watson. Yes, Watson is sidelined to make room for Alice, and like the other characters in the script I found him a bit … flat. But he is never portrayed as a fool, his role was somewhat larger than I expected, his connection to Holmes is palpable, and if I had a checklist of characteristics a good Watson ought to posses, he would do a surprisingly good job checking them off.

The first thing we know of Watson is Holmes’s affection for him. The second is Watson’s protectiveness of Holmes as he expresses his distress over Holmes’s cocaine habit and the danger posed by Moriarty. We also get a sense of Watson’s attraction to danger when he observes, “this is becoming interesting,” as matters become tense.

My favorite moment, however, comes near the end when Watson is alone and two false patients come in, attempting to set a trap for Holmes. Watson not only catches on to their facades immediately, he also notices that the blind had been raised when he briefly stepped out of the room. So thanks to Gillette’s script, we get to see Watson be clever, observant, and a great doctor all at once—a rare occurrence in early adaptations.

As much as I enjoy this scene, however, it also gets at my one major disappointment with Gillette’s Watson: although he is entirely capable, he is never given anything to do. In this instance, when Watson realizes his ‘patients’ are setting a trap he begins to act; but then Holmes appears and takes charge. Later Watson blocks the window and closes the blinds to avoid a signal being sent out to Moriarty—but only at Holmes’s instructions. And this, sadly, is the consistent pattern of the play.

In the end, I was left with a confusing dual sense that on the one hand Gillette seems to have a fairly good grasp of Watson and his capabilities, but on the other doesn’t really seem to know what to do with him. He seems to know that Watson is important, but not how he is important.

So … What About Johnlock?

After everything I’ve said, that’s clearly a hard ‘no,’ right? Well, sort of—they certainly aren’t riding off into the sunset together, but I still find myself with rather too much to say on this topic. To my mind, there are four categories worth touching on: a). The relative strength of the Holmes/Alice relationship vs the Holmes/Watson relationship, b). subtext carried over from Doyle’s stories, c). queer elements of the Holmes/Alice relationship, and d). assorted moments.

a). Holmes/Alice vs Holmes/Watson

Here’s the thing: my complaints about the Holmes/Alice romance aren’t just because Holmes is gay and in love with Watson. They are also because Gillette couldn’t have written more of a dime-a-dozen (+vaguely sexist) hetero romance if he tried. Here is a point-by-point summary of their ‘relationship’:

Holmes is on the point of further stripping agency away from a helpless girl who has been physically and psychologically abused for months.

Alice cries.

Holmes doesn’t do the cruel thing (he’s still planning to do it, but Alice doesn’t know).

They are now in love.

I’m not exaggerating here: in terms of length the above scene is hardly a blip in the play, and yet next time they see each other Alice is saying that if Holmes dies she wants to die too. Yep.

On the other hand, the relationship between Sherlock and Watson is established and their care for one another is palpable. Watson first appears immediately after Holmes refuses to see Mrs. Hudson, clearly wishing to be alone. But then his boy Billy comes up, and this exchange follows:

BILLY: It's Doctor Watson, sir. You told me as I could always show 'im up. HOLMES: Well! I should think so. (Rises and meets WATSON.) BILLY: Yes, sir, thank you, sir. Dr. Watson, sir!

(Enter DR. WATSON. BILLY, grinning with pleasure as he passes in, goes out at once.)

HOLMES (extending left hand to WATSON): Ah, Watson, dear fellow. WATSON (going to HOLMES and taking his hand): How are you, Holmes? HOLMES: I'm delighted to see you, my dear fellow, perfectly delighted, upon my word.

The affection, intimacy, eagerness for one another’s company, and trust evident in these first lines remains throughout the script, and puts Holmes and Alice’s hurried and stilted relationship to shame.

Ultimately Holmes marries Alice and Watson is sidelined, but the relationship between him and Watson remains the more palpable and affecting.

b). Subtext carried over from Doyle’s stories

There are at least two threads that are strongly reminiscent of subtextual cornerstones in Doyle’s canon. Perhaps they are intentional, or perhaps Gillette borrowed them from the stories/Doyle’s original script without reading them the way we do, but they exist nonetheless.

The first is Holmes’s cocaine use. In the canon Holmes occasionally claims that he uses drugs to escape the crushing boredom of inactivity between cases, but The Sign of Four in particular makes it clear that he also uses them for emotional comfort—specifically to cope with loosing Watson to Mary. A similar pattern is evident in Gillette’s play: his Holmes claims that the threat of Moriarty “saves me any number of doses of those deadly drugs,” and yet Watson points out that Holmes has been using the drugs “in ever-increasing doses” despite the fact that he has been engaged in his most all-consuming case—fighting Moriarty—for fourteen months. But the cause of Holmes’s increasing drug use and attendant suicidal depression is far less clear in here than it is in the canon.

Hollow as his semi-frequent ‘because I’m bored’ explanations ring in light of Moriarty, I am inclined to think Holmes is most honest near the end when describing his distress over his treatment of Alice:

HOLMES (turning suddenly to WATSON): Watson—she trusted me! She—clung to me! … and I was playing a game! … a dangerous game – but I was playing it! It will be the same to-night! She'll be there —I'll be here! She'll listen—she'll believe—and she'll trust me—and I'll—be playing—a game. No more – I've had enough! It's my last case!

To me this clearly reads as an ongoing distress which was brought to a head by Holmes’s association with Alice rather than originating with it—“I’ve had enough! It’s my last case” indicates that the dilemma is linked to Holmes’s work as a whole, not the affair with Alice particularly. The surface (and likely intended) reading of this is that the work was a decent antidote for boredom for a time, but was ultimately too empty of real connection to be fulfilling in the long term, resulting in Holmes’s ultimate spiral into depression.

However, it also works surprisingly well for a queer reading: Holmes’s prior life was in some way a facade, “a dangerous game” perhaps involving the ongoing deception of someone he cared about. Interesting ...

A queer reading of his deterioration is further supported by the fact that Watson is married in this story. While we don’t now how long he has been married, one wonders whether his absence might coincide with the increase in Holmes’s drug habits—it seems possible that Gillette recognized the link between cocaine and Watson’s marriage in the cannon and intended committed fans to likewise make the connection in the play.

Another interesting moment comes when Holmes is lamenting ‘the good old days,’ and in theory he is complaining about the un-originality of criminals. But although he begins by speaking of what “I” used to do, later he slips into “we.” Is he really missing the old days of criminal creativity, or is he missing the time when he had a constant companion to share them with?

In short, although Gillette is likely appropriating the cocaine and never-quite-explained melancholy of the canon merely to portray Holmes having a mid-life crisis, it works surprisingly well—and in my opinion more compellingly—to read it as the fallout from the loss of his companion for whom he had socially inadmissible feelings which kept him playing a duplicitous game. (Unfortunately the side-effect of this reading might be that the solution is for Holmes to step out of the ‘dangerous game,’ leaving his old life in Baker Street in literal ashes, and into the clear light of a heterosexual relationship, which is, uh … Wrong).

One other brief matter of note: to my great amusement this play also joins canon in playing the game of the vanishing wife. Watson has scarcely entered the story before Holmes comments on Mary’s (timely as ever) absence on “a little visit,” and near the end we discover that Holmes and Watson have planned a trip to the continent (!). How long is the trip? Is Mary coming? Does she have other plans? How does she feel about her husband gallivanting off to another country with a man pursued by a master criminal??? Meh. Who knows.

Miss Plot Device does, however, appear briefly and silently offstage when Watson wants Holmes to peek in at her for a quick lesson on domesticity.

c). Queer elements of the Holmes/Alice relationship

We’ve established that their relationship is as dime-a-dozen and cringey as literary relationships come. However, in the final scenes Holmes has admitted his affection for her to Watson but believes he must set them aside for the following reasons:

HOLMES: That girl!—young—exquisite—just beginning her sweet life—I—seared, drugged, poisoned, almost at an end! No! no! I must cure her! I must stop it, now—while there's time!

And again, when Alice has confessed her love for him:

HOLMES: no such person as I should ever dream of being a part of your sweet life! It would be a crime for me to think of such a thing! There is every reason why I should say good-bye and farewell! There is every reason—

So essentially, he sees his love for almost as some sort of disease, even a crime, something that would endanger the one he loves, that he ought to resist for their sake; only he is quite wrong and that love is in fact the way to happiness for them both … Hmm. Well then.

d). Assorted

There were a few moments in the script which do not fit within a wider thematic arc, but which I couldn’t go without mentioning.

1. Upon Watson’s first appearance, Holmes greets him and then says:

HOLMES: I'm delighted to see you, my dear fellow, perfectly delighted, upon my word—but—I'm sorry to observe that your wife has left you in this way.

Okay, so Mary has only left for a visit and is back the next day, but is it just me or did Holmes make it sound like she’d left Watson for good?? Because if that was intentional, that a first-class Petty Gay antic.

2. The cocaine scene near the beginning ends with these line:

WATSON (going near HOLMES—putting hand on HOLMES' shoulder) Ah Holmes—I am trying to save you. HOLMES (earnest at once—places right hand on WATSON'S arm): You can't do it, old fellow—so don't waste your time.

Partly I’m just struck by the tenderness of the moment, which is heightened by the stage directions. But I also wonder—why couldn’t Watson save Holmes when Alice presumably can? Apparently Holmes needs romantic affection to move forward. If he believed that Watson was capable of offering him that, would Gillette’s Holmes accept it?

3. In a confrontation with the criminals, one of them reveals that they struck Watson at an earlier stage of the conflict. Holmes’s response?

HOLMES (to ALICE without turning—intense, rapid): Ah!

(CRAIGIN stops dead.)

HOLMES: Don't forget that face. (Pointing to CRAIGIN.) In three days I shall ask you to identify it in the prisoner's dock.

Its not necessarily romantic, but I can’t pass over protective!Holmes, especially given its slight Garridebs vibe. I also can’t resist mentioning that this bit all but interrupts the first clearly romantic moment between Holmes and Alice.

4. Near the end, when Moriarty is captured and spewing threats of revenge, he declares that Holmes will encounter his retribution during his planned trip to the continent with Watson. Ever the optimist, Watson suggests that they cancel the trip, but Holmes replies:

It would be quite the same. What matters it here or there—if it must come.

There is nothing strange in the moment; what is curious is that, for all Holmes’s fears about the damage a relationship with Alice might do her, the very real threat of Moriarty is never mentioned. Realistically this is likely a bit of sloppy writing, and yet the resultant image of an omnipotent web (and yes, the spider’s web metaphor is used for Moriarty in the play) which will inescapably pursue Holmes and Watson wherever they flee and yet leaves the appropriately heterosexual Holmes at Alice alone is, um, Really Something.

5. Finally, as I wrap up I cannot resist calling your attention to a number of lines and stage directions which are (almost definitely) meaningless in context, but out of context are too delightfully gay to ignore. Here they are, presented entirely without context for your viewing pleasure:

HOLMES: Mrs. Watson! Home! Love! Life! Ah, Watson!

HOLMES: I must have that. (Turns away towards WATSON.) I must have that.

HOLMES: (Saunters over to above WATSON'S desk.)

HOLMES: Why, this is terrible! (Turns back to WATSON. Stands looking in his face.)

… I’ll just leave those there.

After everything, the question of whether Gillette might have seen or suspected a romance between Holmes and Watson is unresolved. For myself, I vacillate regularly on how likely I think it is. This excellent post gets into why it is quite likely that Gillette may at the least have seen Holmes and Watson's relationship as a homoerotic (but strictly sexless and ultimately woman-mediated) friendship. Thus at minimum he could have intended to hint at the pain of moving away from such a deeply bonded friendship. From there it is not difficult to imagine the that he could have speculated the possibility that something in their relationship or desires moved beyond what was acceptable in Victorian society. Even if he did there remain two very distinct possibilities: a). That he was secretly supportive and despite protecting himself with a socially acceptable paring tried to hint at the pain of a forbidden love and even queer-coded the heterosexual resolution, or b). That he saw himself as ‘saving’ Holmes from ‘self-destructive game’ of his old love, redeeming him through the all-healing power of heterosexuality (ugh).

On the other hand, there is also a highly eminent possibility that I’m just looking too hard, and nothing I thought I might see was intended to mean anything in that way.

Ultimately, at this stage my only conclusion is that the evidence is inconclusive. But I will say this: regardless of intention, the relationship between Holmes and Watson remains the strongest and most poignant in the play, and faithfulness to elements of the cannon results in moments that sure do make it look like something is up. If nothing else, that made me smile.

Conclusion: Should You Read It?

Well, it depends on what you’re looking for. If you’re looking for a particularly compelling/unique/vibrant take on Sherlock Holmes, or even just a story with a thrilling plot, intriguing concepts, and living characters, this isn’t a bad choice—but you could do better. (This is where I remind you that Doyle’s play, The Adventure of the Speckle Band, is genuinely excellent). But if you’re looking for an entertaining play which also happens to be the first Sherlock Holmes adaptation in existence and which had an enormous impact on every adaptation that came after—then yeah. Go read it. It’s right here! Have fun! And if you post about it, whoever you are, I would deeply appreciate a tag :)

@devoursjohnlock @thespiritualmultinerd @a-candle-for-sherlock @ellinorosterberg @cuttydarke @inevitably-johnlocked @alemizu @astronbookfilms @battledress @disregardedletters @materialof1being @sarahthecoat @spenglernot @authordrawingmusic @hewascharming @infodumpingground @rsfcommonplace @the-elephant-is-pink @johnhedgehogwatson @lokis-warrior-queen @sonnet59 @sherlocks-final-resolve-is-love @artemisastarte @tjlcisthenewsexy @nottoolateforthegame

#william gillette #sherlock holmes 1899 #sherlock film meta #sherlock holmes adaptations #johnlock #sherlock holmes #John watson #Arthur conan doyle

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