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phantom-le6 · 2 years ago

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Ramble of the month April 2023: Autism Month Ramble on Education

For the second time since I started doing these monthly rambles, Autism Awareness Month is upon us. This year, the month is a bit special because while I was basically diagnosed by education professionals as a child, it’s only just now that I’ve got a formal autism diagnosis via the NHS, though that process is still on-going until I get any post saying no more appointments, etc.

Last year when I did something about autism, I focused on relationships. This year, I’m going to instead look at education because I know it’s a very hot-button topic for a lot of parents and families, and subject to regular press scrutiny as well. Now because my day job happens to relate to SEN education, I’m going to try and tread very carefully here, as I don’t want to say anything that would reflect poorly on that day job in any way. However, much like last year’s article, most of this content comes from a book on autism that I’ve been writing, drafts of which have been read by people I trust from work, and I’ve not received any adverse feedback on it previously.

Nonetheless, just as a bit of clarification, what I’m writing here is very much going to be based on me as a private autistic individual. Nothing I say here should be in any way taken as a reflection on my day job, and if anyone does, that’s your mistake, and I bear no responsibility for it. Also, some aspects of this will touch on my views regarding adult intervention in the lives of all young people and will be intended to take a pro-LGBTQ+ stance. No offense is intended in anything I say, but if you take anything pro-LGBTQ+ as offensive, I recommend you stop reading now. For those carrying on, remember, I’m ok with constructive criticism, but I have no tolerance for bullying/trolling/abuse of any kind, so remember to keep any feedback civil, or otherwise please just refrain from commenting.

Now, as ever when I talk about autism, I always like to go over the basics of what autism is, how it can affect people who are autistic, and so on. First, autism is one of a number of conditions that falls under the umbrella of neurodiversity, which is a term used to describe the idea that there is more than one valid way for human minds and brains to function. Because these conditions result in deficits in certain skills and areas of learning, they’re often categorised as a form of disability or mental ill health, but in truth they are neither. I use the term ‘differently abled’ to describe myself because I can do most things non-autistics can; I just have to do them very differently in some cases. Likewise, autism is not a mental illness; it’s simply a different version of mental fitness, though we can still be affected by mental illness in ways similar to non-autistic people.

As to what causes autism, all anyone really knows is that people who are autistic are born that way. It’s not the result of vaccines, and as I noted last year, I view the claim that vaccines cause autism as a form of anti-autistic hate speech which should be criminalised accordingly. It’s also not the result of bad parenting or a lack of discipline, and while many autistics are prone to incidents of meltdown, these outbursts do not stem from aggressive or malicious personalities. Autistic people are on one “mental wave-length”, everyone else is on another such “wave-length”, and the frustration and friction between the two leads to incidents of meltdown.

Now let’s consider the traits of autism. Primarily, autism is defined by social skill deficits that fall into the three areas of what is known as the ‘Triad of Impairment’. If someone has traits within all three areas of the triad, as well as the other associated traits of autism, then they are almost certainly autistic. The first area of difficulty is Social Communication, which deals with how people put across what they want to say and the social skills linked to that. Second is Social Interaction, which are all the social skills you need to accurately interpret what others say to you. Third is Social Imagination, which is the aspect of social skills linked with your ability to anticipate how others may react to your words and actions.

The impairments in these areas seem to stem primarily from the fact that the mind of an autistic person doesn’t learn social skills automatically through observation and interpretation as non-autistics do. In effect, the “social skill auto-pilot” present in neurotypical minds is not present for autistic people, and we have to learn social skills through explicit, direct instruction and implement them in the same way. This also gives us a very literal mindset, making us prone to missing the point of jokes, or perhaps not even recognising where a joke has been told. Likewise, figures of speech and metaphor can be a major challenge for us (like Drax from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but less stupid).

Other autistic traits include a high need for predictability to offset how confusing we find the world around us. Routine and advance knowledge of any major changes that we might find disruptive are two ways this need can be met, but a third that is highly unique to autistics is the concept of special interests. This can be anything we develop an interest in that we find predictable, and because predictability is vital to our mental well-being, special interests occupy a lot of our minds at any given time. For this reason, such interests can be mistaken for obsessions, but obsessions are ultimately joyless where special interests are highly enjoyable to us. Some also mistake them for hobbies, but that’s too casual a label given the role they play for autistic people.

The last couple of traits to go over are sensory issues and coinciding special needs. The first stems from the altered brain chemistry that results in autism, or such was the case last I heard, and causes senses to either be ramped up (hyper-sensitive) or ramped down (hypo-sensitive). These can result in behaviours known as “stimming”, which as I understand it is seeking a specific sensory experience as a way to calm down, though to be honest it’s one trait of autism I don’t think I’ve ever shown myself. As such, I’m not sure if it’s because it’s down to specific sensory needs (I’m a hearing-and-taste hyper-sensitive) or where someone is on the autistic spectrum. There’s also a general processing delay in terms of how long autistic people take to process new information, so at times we might seem a bit slow in our reactions to things, and can easily be flustered by the new and the unexpected; another reason for our dependence on predictability.

The final trait, that of coinciding special needs, means just that. Autistic people are very rarely just autistic. Many have other needs, though what these are vary quite widely. Some can have ADHD, be dyslexic, have major sensory impairments, and so on. In this respect, I’ve been sort of lucky in that my other special needs are a general impairment of my hand-eye co-ordination and gross motor skills. Granted, that almost certainly doesn’t combine well with my sensory processing delay, but at least it’s otherwise separate and distinct from my autism.

Now a moment ago I mentioned the concept of the autistic spectrum. Autism is a very varied form of neurodiversity, and when I used to give talks on the subject, a frequent phrase that came up at the talks was “when you’ve met one person with autism, you’ve met one person with autism.” Even looking at the handful of autistic people I was a part of when delivering those talks, that phrase is easily understood as true. However, the spectrum model of “high-to-low functioning” is often misinterpreted as being a sliding scale of autistic severity. This is totally untrue; a supposedly “high-functioning” autistic like myself can have needs just as profound as those of a “low-functioning” autistic.

To my mind, the misinterpretation stems from what are known as masking behaviours. These are any behaviours that effectively conceal autistic traits from being observed by mimicking neurotypical behaviours, and are the key reason why autism is often labelled a ‘hidden disability’. While the second part of that label is wrong for most people, the first part certainly explains why some autistic people are not diagnosed sooner in life, and I believe it accounts for the illusion of a functionality scale. In essence, so-called “high-functioning” autistics have very effective masking abilities, while “low-functioning” autistics are simply not capable of or interested in using these behaviours. As such, terms like “high-masking”, “heavy-masking”, “low-masking” or “light-masking” would make better sense of the spectrum concept. Also, the spectrum does not run all the way to neurotypical. Autistic people can be anywhere on the autistic spectrum, but neurotypical people aren’t on it, ever.

Having covered all this information on autism, I’m sure you can probably understand the kinds of difficulties autistic children would have in education settings, especially if they lack for anything official that declares their autism to education professionals. A literal understanding of language, for example, might make them prone to misinterpreting instructions, and while a subject playing to their special interests will see them do well, getting them to focus and achieve in other subject areas could be more challenging, especially if it’s anything new or outside of their routine. With diagnosis, some of these difficulties can be compensated for, but without that formal label, appropriate support is even harder to come by. It also doesn’t help that these issues then spill over into their peer relationships at break and lunch times, and of course outside of schools.

On top of this, it’s worth realising that education has failed to really update itself much over the course of history. Our school year is a relic of the agrarian age when children helped tend crops in the summer, the “sit at desks and learn” model of teaching a hold-over from Victorian times when it was made to mimic the production lines of this industrial quantum leap. Even through the recent trials of the Covid pandemic and home-learning en masse, these elements remain unchanged, while in comparison, we’ve gone from horse-and-carriage to the modern motor car, from old crank-dial landline telephones and telegraph lines to smart phones.

If this isn’t bad enough, our education system has in more recent times become extremely exam-centric, in many cases cutting out classroom assessment and/or coursework as any true kind of metric for progress. Now all that anyone cares about when it comes to school children is exams, or more accurately, how well can they parrot information on cue. Great skill if you plan to spend your life up in front of crowds reading from an auto-cue of some kind, and technically useful for when you have to do tests as part of a job interview. For a lot of other things, though, exam skills aren’t going to be the be-all and end-all of what you need to know, and it’s not unreasonable to expect a child’s education to reflect this simple, basic reality.

The best analogy for all of this, especially when factoring in children who are neurodiverse or differently abled, is the satirical cartoon that’s been doing the rounds of social media for the last decade or so at least. It’s the one where a myriad variety of animals are lined up and asked to climb a tree. That’s our education system in a nutshell; a wide variety of varied individuals being judged by how well or how poorly they do at a single task, disregarding all other abilities that they possess. Given this, I think it’s fair to say that almost every child will struggle in education if things remain that way, special needs or not.

This then brings us to the existing provision for special needs education, which as I noted before is generally only there if you’ve got documentary evidence to prove your child has special needs. First of all, as I understand it, since the Equality Act and the Autism Act were both passed in or around 2010, reasonable adjustments to a child’s education where they have SEN have been part of our national law. As such, some level of adaptability is supposed to exist within our existing national curriculum, and in theory that should help some students achieve in education. There are also various support services available, whether through charities, the NHS or local councils, and then we come to the question of what used to be called Statements of SEN, but are now Education, Health and Care Plans, or EHCPs.

These documents changed names and other things following a legislation change back in 2014, the idea of which was apparently to get things to a point where only children needing special school placements would need EHCPs, and other forms of support would cater to mainstream SEN pupils. However, because the legal changes also included an expanded age-range to cover nursery and further education, as well as the legislation possibly not altering the national curriculum or how it was taught, there was no reduction in EHCP students. Instead, there was and is an ever-increasing demand for this form of support that shows no signs of abating.

In recent times, local councils have begun taking a lot of flak from the public and the press as they struggle to meet this ever-rising demand, but in reality, they’re trying to do their best with a situation not of their making. Over the past several years at least, budgets for local councils have, as with other public services, been cut time and time again, and as funds to councils become increasingly scarce, so does their ability to supply the public demand. The decision to make those cuts is undertaken at the central government level, which is why I would urge anyone with an SEN child to seriously review who they vote for in elections. Who you elect into power dictates how well local authorities get funded, as well as other legislative changes that impact how differently abled children and adults are treated in this country. Don’t just buy into the catchiest soundbite; really investigate and make sure you’re picking a councillor, an MP, a prime minister that honestly cares about SEN support.

The other main contention that can arise around SEN support is whether it’s better to integrate SEN children with mainstream peers or to segregate them via dedicated specialist schools. My own childhood took a kind of middle-route, as under my statement of SEN, I was allocated placements in specialist units within mainstream schools, and over time I spent more and more lessons in mainstream instead of the unit. Now there are parents and professionals who would argue for either extreme, and those who would argue for the middle. Personally, I believe there will always be some children too impaired to even come close to mainstream education, but that in most cases integration should at least be the end-goal, if only because integration with mainstream society is a vital skill for any differently abled person as an adult.

To achieve this, however, there needs to be change. Despite legal provisions allowing for differentiated learning through reasonable adjustments, this doesn’t always seem to happen. Some schools still teachers trapped in archaic views on special needs, viewing differently abled children as simply “naughty”, and while some schools might educate children on special needs so they can understand their peers, others don’t. This in turn results in a lot of the same bullying I went through in school, back when no one even tried explaining my special needs or those of other unit students to our mainstream peers.

As such, I believe that schools need to get proactive and begin weeding out teachers that maintain anti-SEN attitudes of old, and that the national curriculum needs to alter by default, because as difficult as all these challenges are for the diagnosed SEN child, imagine those on the autistic spectrum who are high-masking and shutdown rather than meltdown under stress. Granted, some changes will always be unique to certain special needs, and some will cost extra money, but some won’t. Consider the issue autistic people have with taking things literally. A teacher will have to speak and write instructions to their class many times during a school year, and the cost of hand-outs, whiteboard pens, powering an electronic keyboard, that’s all factored in. The cost of changing certain words on things you already have to write will be no different that whatever you would have written before, but the impact on any autistic or otherwise neurodiverse children needing more literal instructions? Priceless.

Another point I would raise when dealing with autistic people of any age is the three C’s; be clear, be concise, be consistent. Not only does more literal language help, but so does how you set instructions out, and how you act in general, and not just for autistic and other neurodiverse children. Classes may also contain children with chaotic or abusive home lives or just find certain subjects difficult. Making lessons harder with obtuse instructions or erratic staff behaviour and conflicting methodologies do not help such situations, but clear, simple instructions, acting predictably and showing a consistent approach will.

More practical education is another change that would benefit autistic children, but would also benefit those without special needs as well. There’s so much knowledge that gets taught simply “in case” a child wants to follow a specific subject to a higher level, and very often a lot of useful information is left untaught that should be. My cooking lessons in school all related to cakes and pizzas, but not once did anyone teach me how to prepare carrots, peas, potatoes or Yorkshire Puddings; all this I had to learn as an adult from my parents. I learned quadratic equations, but never once were we taught how much living expenses could be, how to do a household budget or check if our income was correctly taxed. So much emphasis was put on picking French or German for a foreign language, but nothing mentioned about learning sign language, which would certainly be useful given that most of us will meet more deaf people than will travel to France or Germany.

Going back to language, avoiding the use of redundant or inaccurate language is another thing to consider. I remember almost getting tripped up on a Maths exam because I was asked to “describe” an equation. That term had no place whatsoever in anything to do with Maths. In any mathematic operation, you calculate, you work out, you can even deduce, but you’re not trying to “describe” a sum, just work out its answer. I was lucky enough to be well-educated enough to compensate for this, but not every SEN student would have been so fortunate. As such, exam writers should be more careful about which exams they decide to go using a thesaurus to write. Maths is not a subject that needs a lot of wordplay, thank you.

Speaking of exams, these should go back to only being part of a subject grade instead of the sum total. For all students of all abilities, exams alone will not be the answer; it stresses them all out to no good cause. For those students who excel more in other types of assessment, that stress could undermine their whole grade without the change to compensate in another area. I know that if essays I wrote for homework during my A-Level Biology course had counted, I might have actually passed.

Speaking of A-Levels, it would also be wise for schools to make clear what is expected at this level of study. No one ever told me I had to do a lot of independent study, never mind what aspects of each subject I should study to achieve a high grade. There’s a lot of supposition regarding students having the initiative to teach themselves at this level, but if you’re autistic and take things literally, you’re more likely to just do what’s assigned and no more because no one has said “you should also do x, y and z to get a proper grade.” Don’t suppose, don’t assume, don’t think we’ll “work this out for ourselves”. The neurotypical fallacy that anyone can read minds is a myth, which is why telepaths only exist in things like X-Men and Star Trek. Real people can’t read minds, so stop acting like they can and spell everything out properly. Not rocket science, not brain surgery, just simple common sense, good manners and good education practice.

Another phrase I believe in is “credit where credit is due, blame where blame is due.” As an autistic student, I don’t think anything ever annoyed me in school quite as much as a teacher telling the whole class off, especially if they kept us late, when I wasn’t involved and had to get out to catch my taxi home. This is lazy behaviour and no worthwhile teacher would ever employ it, which shows what I think about a lot of my former teachers. Punishment should only be administered to students who have broken the rules, and the innocent students should be left alone. This was even more annoying when considering that while I was at school, I was frequently bullied and in most cases school staff never dealt with this.

Because of this, my next improvement suggestion for schools the world over is stop being soft on bullies. Whenever I see news reports about a child bringing a weapon into a school, my first thought is never that the kid in question might be in a gang, nor do I ever believe that’s the first domino in the chain. My first thought about such stories is how much has that child been bullied to believe they need to be armed to be safe. It’s not something I ever did myself, and yet I think there were times when the thought might have occurred to me if I’d seen more examples of that behaviour. The reality is that while some cases of children possessing weapons will be related to teenage gangs, a lot will be bullying-related, which is why I believe bullying should be effectively criminalised, in order to prevent situations reaching a greater magnitude than they need to. If bullies were caught and punished properly, their victims would never seek to be armed and would avoid being seen as criminals themselves.

Next, let’s consider choice in education. I know that for some exams and other assessments of learning to work, there needs to be a few subjects where what you learn is set by school staff. In other areas, however, there is more scope for choice than one might initially suppose, and this can really help autistic children. Say for example that a child has a special interest in superhero lore. Just handing them certain classic literature to study might bore them, and seeing no value in the study of that story they won’t do it. However, if you gave them a graphic novel in which a given superhero deals with similar events to the classic literature, and then you point out the connection, this can be an effective motivator. With sufficient leeway, they could even make scholarly points linking the two and be given higher marks for that. After all, it’s often been noted that the Hulk combines elements of Frankenstein with those of Jekyll and Hyde, and if you consider the Rick Jones-Hulk relationship, an element from Of Mice and Men is also prevalent in early Hulk lore.

For my last couple of points, I’m going to start by pointing out that homework should be better co-ordinated between different subjects. When I was in school, I often felt that we were assigned certain levels of homework that made me think the teacher was of the belief their class was the only one we had. Now for autistics like me, home is meant to be a place to wind down from the demands of school, both social-skill related and otherwise, so having a large amount of homework eat into that destress time can often be counter-productive. As such, I think when students reach a level of education where they’re hoping from class to class for their lessons, schools should co-ordinate across all subject areas to make sure homework levels are reasonable on the whole.

Point number 2 is around the area of when teachers, and other adults as well, should or shouldn’t intervene in an autistic child’s personal life. The reason I bring this up is because during my time at my first secondary school, I went a bit girl-mad, and at one stage I did manage to get a girlfriend for a time. She was a fellow student in the same SEN unit as myself, but a couple of years younger than me, and at one point we had our teachers in that unit trying to basically split us up, claiming we were too young. Given that my mainstream peers were all/mostly getting girlfriends, etc. I have always felt that they really meant we were too autistic/neurodiverse for romantic relationships.

Not only is such an attitude discriminatory, but it’s outside their remit to interfere with a student’s person life in most cases, whether that student is autistic or not. That being said, there are situations where a young person’s personal life can be infringed upon or invaded by parents or guardians rather than teachers, and school staff end up having to be the ones have to interfere for that young person’s benefit. At times, this sort of behaviour gets demonised in the conservative press, as sometimes this interference isn’t just about who starts getting into relationships when. Sometimes it’s about a young person wanting to do what is right for them, but are not allowed to because of the religious superstitions or idiotic conspiracy theories and prejudices of their parents or guardians.

As such, the question always lingers as to how much interference from any adult is appropriate, whether autism is an element in the equation or not. This is never an easy question to answer, and that’s for a lot of reasons. First of all, children and young people are all individuals, growing and getting into things at different ages, and that’s equally true whether they’re neurodiverse or not. It’s part and parcel of why age of consent laws and other age-based limits vary internationally; scientifically, each child develops into an adult in their own time, and each nation has its own ideas about when most young people are able to drive, to vote, to drink, to have sex and so on. As a result, you get the law setting a standard only some children will ever adhere to, while the rest will either be ready earlier or later than that standard.

Second, because children and young people hit their various mental and physical milestones at different times to each other, you’re never going to know with absolute certainty at what age they will be ready for certain things. For example, one young person maybe ready for romantic relationships with their peers from the age of 12 or 13, another young person might not be ready until they’re closer to 16, and some are never going to be ready or will only be ready as adults. Autism can be factor here, but so can a lot of other things, and relationships are just one example. Others may include following a different religion, or exploring aspects of their identity that come under the LGBTQ+ umbrella.

Now among the autistic friends I’ve made over the years, I know a couple of autistics that are homosexual and one who is trans-gender. This is why when I look at the whole area of adult interference in autistic personal lives, both in education and at home, I try not to look just at my own experience around relationships. Interference can be a teacher trying to convince an autistic young person who is gay, trans, both or something else entirely that they aren’t these things, or it can be a parent disowning the young person over laying claim to these labels. Neither is appropriate or healthy, and the same applies when non-autistic young people make such claims. However, as we’ve just noted, children reach their mental milestones at different ages, and sometimes they’re not going to work out which labels apply to them at the first time of trying.

In essence, each person’s life is a voyage of self-discovery, and during childhood and adolescence, each person is developing the initial knowledge and skills they will need to continue that journey as independent adults. This means any adult intervention in a young person’s personal life has to be a measured response, something that strikes a balance between outright dismissal and carte blanche permission. During their formative years, children and young people need a bit leeway to explore who they are and begin establishing their identity, but until they’re capable of making sound independent decisions, a certain level of safeguarding is also required.

How this balanced approach might apply is something that almost certainly needs to vary from case to case, but in general, the basic structure would be to take an interest, research the subject well with the young person and give them appropriate chances to explore whatever they’ve expressed an interest in. Ideally, this should be handled more by parents, perhaps with the assistance of other family or close friends, and perhaps only involving school where it’s really appropriate because it might impact their education. Indeed, impact on education is what I would generally put down as the principal factor, perhaps the only factor, in whether teachers interfere in the personal affairs of students. Things like bullying fall into this category because the adverse mental impact impairs a child’s ability to focus on lessons, as does parental abuse. Pursuing a romantic relationship with a classmate, provided it’s checked at the classroom door, wouldn’t have an adverse impact, and so that’s not a matter for teacher intervention.

Where autistic children and young people are concerned, the waters can get a little muddier because our social skill difficulties mean we’re a little more prone to misunderstanding and misinterpretation, as well as being deceived by our peers into handling a situation inappropriately. However, the rule of “if it’s not impacting their learning, don’t butt in” should remain the school staff rule-of-thumb. Where home life is the point of non-acceptance, that again impacts a young person’s ability to learn, so again school staff intervention becomes appropriate to shield a young person from horrendous parental reaction. In this scenario, it might be that school staff or other professionals have to act as supporting adults in a young person’s self-discovery instead of parents, in which case greater care is required in case certain actions or counsel fall outside any given professional remit.

Now I imagine that when I talked an approach of taking an interest in a young person’s decisions, researching the issue with them and giving them appropriate opportunities, some people might be a bit confused what I meant. Well, let’s run through a couple of examples. First is the one from my own experience; relationships of a romantic nature. Never an easy subject to broach, but let’s consider how that could be handled. Step one of taking an interest means asking the young person what they understand about such things and giving them a good baseline idea of what relationships might entail. This doesn’t necessarily mean doing a sex education talk, as they might be too young for that stage yet, and schools generally cover this anyway. More likely topics could be dating versus advancing a friendship to romance, proper relationship etiquette, correcting for any misunderstandings born from pop culture knowledge of romance and so on.

Research could then be a matter of asking slightly older children in the family (older siblings, cousins, etc.) to talk about their own experiences, pointing them towards other trusted sources of experience in this area, and in the case of autistic children, tools like social stories might help to explain certain points. A provision of appropriate experiences would then probably consist of liaising with the other young person’s parents/guardians to let a young couple have some dating experiences, or provide a young person with some age-appropriate chances to gain a romantic interest. Where an autistic teenager is concerned, I would advise that where the latter option is concerned, try not to suggest clubs of any description. I for one always hated that suggestion because if it didn’t result in a relationship, I would have joined a club for nothing. Very often autistic people want to be direct, so the more direct our opportunities are, the more likely we are to take them.

For our second example, let’s consider the idea of trans-genderism. This one is very much more contentious, but the same basic principles from the first example apply. Again, begin with taking an interest; why does the young person believe they are trans-gender? Are they fully aware of what the term means, what different forms trans-genderism can take? What aspects of their birth-assigned gender do they not identify with, and so on. Look into the subject yourself, avoiding any right-wing hysteria and bigotry and focusing on more balanced sources of information, then go through this with the young person in question, maybe reach out to trans-gender support and information groups to learn more.

Appropriate opportunities can then consist of allowing a young person to explore the gender they now identify as, provided the exploration doesn’t involve anything that is irreversible or extremely difficult to reverse. For example, if a young person has been designated male when they were born but now identifies as female, wearing female clothing and make-up is ok because clothes and make-up can be removed if they find this isn’t for them. In this case, appropriate exploration means dipping your toe in the pool for now and not diving in until old enough to weight the consequences accurately and make an independent decision. That way, exploration can go ahead, and those who have mis-identified can change their minds while those who have landed on the right label will have confirmation that they’re on their own right track.

So, to sum this all up, education is not an easy experience for people on the autistic spectrum, and odds are this will always be the case to some extent. The only question is whether or not the society in which we live has the will and the courage to try being more inclusive and tolerant, and to create an autism-inclusive education system that reflects such an attitude change. Based on my experience of neurotypical society, I’m hanging hopes on this anytime soon, but if anyone has the guts to prove me wrong, I’m more than happy for them to try. Until my next ramble, ta-ta for now.

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twofrontteethstillcrooked · 2 years ago

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Suptober 29 Oct.: A million reasons

"Where are you going?" Dean murmured. The long pause made him open his eyes again. "Cas?"

deancas, post 15x18 au, angst and fluff

It wasn't that Dean had never sat out a hunt before; it was just rare that he missed one on account of plague. Or dreaded flurge. Or viral voodoo.

"Having the flu is serious, Dean. You're generally healthy, which is in your favor. But you need to rest." Cas pulled the loveliness of his cool palm away from Dean's too warm forehead.

Dean drifted for a few minutes. Three blankets weighed him down in the bed well enough that he'd mostly stopped shivering. His skin felt tender and misshapen, like he'd been yanked around like a Gumby and now his limbs were mismatched, his spine squished in some places and crooked in others. He was hot but also very cold and he hated both sensations more than he could possibly convey without biting something like a rabid raccoon.

When he opened his eyes, Cas was putting on his trench coat.

"Where are you going?" Dean murmured. The long pause made him open his eyes again. "Cas?"

"I'm going with them," Cas said as he walked back over to the bed. "Garth and Donna are meeting us there, and Jack's talked to Rowena five times in the last hour, so none of this should take long." He sat down on the edge of the mattress and looked only a little apprehensive.

Through his brain fog, Dean could imagine Cas's rationalization process. Cas had been freed from the Empty four months ago. His sea legs were growing stronger day by day, as were his hunting skills. Whatever calling to help others that he'd had as an angel was even stronger now that he was completely, irrevocably human. And while Jack and Amara had done their best, much of it to the true benefit of humanity, on earth there would always be monsters and a need for those who could fight them. Cas probably had a million reasons to want to go assist his family, at least until, well… Other decisions about the future had been clarified.

A small pack of twitchy zombies, newly hatched for Halloween by some local faux warlock dipshit with a surplus of ego and a deficit of intelligence, wouldn't be a match for a well seasoned pack of hunters and the reigning queen of Hell, who sometimes liked to pop up from the sulfur pits to join in the festivities. Cas would be in good company and unlikely to be harmed.

Of course, if he was, he'd bruise and bleed, and heal as slowly as any other human. And should something worse happen…

Dean's whole throat itched as he did not – did not – think about it.

"Dean?" Cas asked quietly. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

No. No.

Dean nodded. He couldn't look at Cas, though. "Be careful, and then come home." His voice rasped and his eyes burned so badly that he tried not to blink as he stared holes into the blanket.

"I will." Cas tapped the top of Dean's hand with his fingertips. "I love you."

The soft words startled Dean into looking up. Cas hadn't said that again since… Since. In all the weeks he'd been back, they'd not talked about how he was taken or why. Dean couldn't bear to. He wasn't going to be selfish further; it was enough that Cas was alive.

"I love you too," Dean surprised himself by saying.

Cas didn't look a bit surprised. He held Dean's gaze for a long minute, then stood up, almost smiling. "We'll be back in no time."

He closed the door behind him. Dean let tears drip down his face for the span of several breaths. God, the flu sucked. That's all this was, wasn't it? He was a bad patient; always had been.

Under the blankets, he curled himself up tightly and still hurt everywhere. Still shook.

A gentle touch returned to his forehead, someone brushing his hair behind his ear with cool fingers.

Dean struggled to sit upright. "You'd said it'd be quick. Wow."

Cas gave him a sheepish look. "I was voted out of the group this time."

"Why?" Dean couldn't imagine a reason the others wouldn't want Cas on their team.

"Apparently my close proximity to you could be described as reckless, since you are clearly suffering a, quote, disgusting contagion which I could spread to the others." Cas quirked his mouth. "I told them I'd had a flu shot and at present display no signs or symptoms of illness to no avail. We're being quarantined together."

Dean squinted at him. "What does that mean?"

"Sam said he'd bring us a bucket of KFC after they'd finished up with the zombie nest and leave it by the door."

Dean put his hands over his face and muffled a borderline hysterical laugh. "You're at far greater risk of catching the flu trapped in here with me."

"I don't mind." Cas had on his stubborn, borderline petulant expression.

"Having the flu is serious, Cas. Someone told me that mere minutes ago." Dean crossed his arms over his chest and pretended like he wasn't shivering.

"I'll live," Cas said. His eyes brightened. "Both of us will."

"Okay, well." Dean scooted over in the bed. "Climb aboard, I guess."

Cas sat with his back against the headboard, his hand heavy and gentle atop Dean's shoulder. Every part of Dean ached, and he didn't care at all.

In the end, the zombies were vanquished easily, if messily. The promised bucket of KFC turned into three days of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and something Sam called Chili Fantasia. (Dean never did find out what made it stringy. He didn't want to know, of course.) Despite the food, Dean's symptoms were much improved by the fourth day. Cas ran a low grade fever for approximately nine hours and was predictably the whiniest person about it Dean had ever encountered. It diminished his adoration of Cas by zero point zero percent.

On the fifth day, they found better things to do in bed than sleep.

#suptober22 #deancas #destiel #spn #fic #snippetfic #suptober

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josefavomjaaga · 2 years ago

Note

Judging by Madame Campan’s outdated as fuck ideas on women, I’m surprised Hortense and Caroline didn’t die of boredom in the school.

(I know it was a different time but those ideas don’t fit them at all.)

But what did they learn there? What subjects were taught? Do you happen to know?

Why, thank you for the question! That's a good one. And as usual, I've never really studied anything serious enough to have an answer.

But. In her biography of Hortense Beauharnais, Marie-Hélène Baylac cites a bit from one of Hortense's school reports (in order to show that sweet Hortense was not precisely the model student she claims to have been in her memoirs). It's from 1798, when Hortense would have been 15/16 years old. The bulletin cites some deficits in "dictation", but overall she seems to be doing okay in "reading and writing" yet needs to cultivate her memory more. "Application and submission" are satisfactory, Hortense is docile and always ready to please her schoolmates.

Which, I believe, already shows some things that Madame Campan's institution placed value on. There were more school subjects of course: history (at the time of the Directorate reduced to only Greek and Roman history), geography, languages (Hortense claims that Napoleon abruptly ended her studies in English for political reasons), and all the things that, in those days, would turn a girl into an "accomplished woman": drawing, music, singing, dancing. And while, according to Caroline d'Arjuzon, girls that left Madame Campan's school often still rather lacked some orthography and grammar, they all had learned to dance and draw and hold polite conversations - everything to entertain and please a future husband.

English writer Fanny Burney once watched a price giving ceremony (the whole school system was based heavily on tests and prices) during the Consulate: the girls, on a stage and in front of a large audience that included, besides parents and relatives, also high political functionaries and sometimes the First Consul himself, had to do a series of tests: dictation, drawing of maps, pointing out the main cities of each country while other girls would name their coordinates, recitation and explication of poems, answering to questions about history. Fanny Bruney noted that the jury took great care to not embarrass the girls in this latter matter and to "carefully guide them to the correct answer". Two girls still burst into tears live on stage during this test though. The main prize however was a rose awarded for "sweetness of character".

(I think I once told you about Sandra Gulland's novel "A rose for virtue"? That title refers to this prize. Also, it's a nice book. The Hortense of that story is truly a nice person, and her pining for Duroc is just sweet.)

Again, I guess that's somewhat telling. The geography session seems impressive though (I've always hated geography 😋).

There also were teachers for mathematics and natural science, I believe, so those must have been subjects, too. But I am not sure if all pupils always were educated in all these subjects. I seem to recall a report card from Hortense's days at Madame Campan's where some major subjects simply were left blank, as if she had not taken part in them.

That's the best I could do for now, I fear. But maybe somebody else has something to add? I'd be very interested myself!

Thanks again for the question!

#btw i'd have sucked in that school #answering questions live on stage?#help!#madame campan #hortense de beauharnais

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redvelvetnat · 3 years ago

Note

Since we were talking about jock!Carol earlier, will you do a blurb of her asking the Reader out even though she’s the type that doesn’t really get into relationships :) ily bby

-letty

the one in the library

jock!carol danvers x fem!reader blurb

summary ➞ no, carol danvers does not get into relationships. yes, she did just ask you to be her girlfriend

disclaimer ➞ strong language, sexual nature, implications of previous sex, whole lotta fluff (me learning i’m not that great at writing fluff)

a/n ➞ ahhh my darling letty, of course i can <3 ily more. this piece of work is not to be copied or translated anywhere. thank you for reading!!! comments and reblogs appreciated <3

Another stray pencil clattered against the library floor, the stark sound contrasting against the quiet in the atmosphere made Carol cringe and quickly divert her attention to the textbook in front of her.

She was hoping you wouldn’t notice that she had been trying to play basketball with the trashcan for the last ten minutes - and definitely not paying attention to your attempt at a tutoring session.

A sigh fell from your lips, “You know, if you don’t start paying attention, you’re going to fail this test and not get to play any actual basketball.” You reminded her, eyes darting towards her over the screen of your open laptop.

“But this is boring, buttercup.” She whined, knowing the nickname would soften the growing frustration from her own deficit of patience.

She twirled her swivel chair in an attempt to make you laugh and you rolled you eyes to stifle the exact reaction she was trying to coax from you.

“Why don’t we get out of here? I’m starving,” Her eyes flickered to the clock on the wall and then back to you, “and that diner you like, downtown, is still open.”

You let yourself laugh then, “Wow, you must really hate studying. You usually only buy me food after you’re fucked me.” Your statement made her feign offense and let out a dramatic scoff.

“Carol, don’t you want to play next game?” You questioned, waiting for the nod of her head, “You can’t do that if you fail calculus.” Your face fell into a pointed expression and that was enough to make her deflate in her chair.

“I’ll tell you what, if you wear my jacket to the game, I’ll study AND ace the fuck out of this test.” The laugh that rumbled from your throat made the older woman look at you curiously.

“Don’t girlfriends usually wear their boyfriends jackets? I thought that was like a…ritual your team had.” Your expression fell when you noticed she hadn’t cracked that signature smirk she usually wore.

Carol shrugged, “Yeah.” Which only made you stare blankly at her. She looked almost nervous now - uncharacteristically so - when you didn’t say anything else.

Treading lightly, your voice dropped down to whisper despite the lack of people around you, “Are you trying to ask me to be your girlfriend, Carol Danvers?” You left your tone playfully, just in case you were reading the situation wrong - you must have been.

Carol twiddled with the pencil between her fingers, not daring to look up at you as she mumbled, “Depends on your answer, I guess.”

A smirk of its own tugged at your lips, “Ask me.” You demanded, causing her eyes too shoot up to you. “Ask me the right way.”

Carol bit back a smile, hoping that you were only toying with her because the answer was yes - after all, it wasn’t like you to be cruel with her. “Fair enough. Buttercup, will you be my girlfriend?” She still sounded nervous, like a teenager on their first date.

“Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend, Carol Danvers.” You swooned at the hopeful look on her face. “Fuck yeah, you would.” She pressed herself over the table to plant a triumphant kiss against your lips. There was your carol, cocky and confident as always.

#rvn : sydwrites #rvn : sydsblurbs #carol danvers x reader #jock!carol x reader

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noyaism · 4 years ago

Text

No Manners

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: enemies/rivals to lovers, public sex, hate sex, heavy degrading, edging, choking, overstim, teasing, size kink, power dynamics, sir!Tsukki, dacryphilia, humiliation, spanking, slapping, exhibitionism, sadism, masochism, dumbification, creampie, this shit is pure filth (let me know if I missed any warnings!)

Song Inspo: No Manners - Superm

If there was anything you prided yourself on, it was being the smartest person in any given room you walked into. School had always come so easily to you, no subject too hard, no concept you wouldn't understand. That was, until you got to college. University was a beast unto its own, and it showed you that maybe the genius you had always believed you possessed could indeed be threatened.

While you found yourself at the top at almost every single class you took, your economics class was your Achilles heel. It irked you how the information just didn’t seem to mesh with you. It made you feel so inferior, and that wasn’t something you were used to. It also wasn’t something Tsukishima Kei was used to, however, thanks to you he was feeling a new sense of inferiority that was completely foreign to him. He, like you, was used to being at the top of his class, nobody coming close to him academically. Then, he got to university, and unfortunately for him you two shared a major, and took the exact same classes. It was odd enough in the first semester, and when it ended he was so glad to finally get away from you, and to regain his status.

Then the second semester came and once again, you both signed up for the exact same classes. This time was different, though, because finally, Tsukishima held something over you; you couldn’t understand economics to save your life, and it came to Tsukishima as easily as everything else did.

Understandably, the two of you had developed a bit of a rivalry. It would come around every so often that Tsukki did better than you on a test, scored higher in a lab, and it drove you insane how he would rub it in, so when you did better than him, you did the same. The two of you were starting to hate each other’s guts. However, you were on the verge of failing your economics class, and there wasn’t going to be anyone better to help you study than Tsukishima. When you asked him to help you study he straight up laughed in your face, entertained by the fact you were actually coming to him for help. It was such a stroke to his ego, he couldn’t possibly say no.

You two scheduled a study session for the following Friday evening. You met in one of the study rooms up on the third floor around five, intending to stay for a couple hours. Tsukishima had arrived a little early, as you walked in you saw him with his notebook and laptop out on the table, writing down some notes. You took a seat next to him, getting yourself ready to begin. As he attempted to explain all these concepts to you; rambling on about monopolies and price ceilings and deficits, none of it was clicking. You asked him to explain things time and time again, and he was getting visibly irritated the more you seemed to not be getting things.

“You agreed to help me study, Tsukishima. You can't go on and complain now that I don’t get it, you knew I didn't.”

“Yeah, I got that part, but I wasn’t expecting you to be this utterly dense.”

You folded your arms across your chest, letting out a small huff under your breath.

“You're such a dick.” You muttered, not thinking much of the remark. It was an unequivocal fact that anyone who ever came in contact with him had to know, which you yourself already knew quite well, but you hadn't expected him to be this bad personally. You thought since you were undoubtedly better at him in any other subject you would at least be spared of his ill mannered remarks, but it seemed to be the opposite; he'd get on you because you were so much better at him in everything else. It was the one thing he held over you, and he was going to make the absolute most of it.

“What did you call me?” He asked, snapping his head in your direction.

“I called you a dick, because you are. I get it, okay? I don’t understand the material, it’s above my intelligence level, I’m the dumbest bitch in the world. Cool, fine, awesome. If tutoring me is that much of a pain I’ll just go, alright? Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Utterly fed up, you tossed all of your things into your backpack and got up from your seat, starting to storm away. Tsukishima watched you as you went for the door, only momentarily, before getting up and following behind you. You barely got the door unlocked and open before a forceful push of a hand from above shut it, and you turned and looked up at the man, confused as to what it was he was doing.

“We aren’t done studying.”

“Yes we are. I can’t take your shit anymore, I’m done.”

“No, we’re gonna stay here and work on this until you get it,” He lowered himself down to make more direct eye contact with you.

“Got me?” He finished, once the two of you were level. You let out a chuckle, shaking your head a bit. This situation was unbelievable, and he was totally impossible. You weren’t sure how much clearer you could possibly get, but you had no problem reiterating yourself.

“No, I don’t. Makes sense that I don’t, right? ‘Cuz I’m ‘utterly dense’, as you said.”

“And incredibly mouthy, apparently.”

“Only when dealing with assholes like you.” Tsukishima let out a chuckle of his own after that line, straightening himself up and looking down on you once again. You hated when he did that, but it wasn’t like he had much choice, he towered over your much smaller frame. It personified your current situation almost too well.

“You know, someone should put little girls like you in their place.” He fairly quickly retorted.

“And someone should knock tall elitists like you down a peg.” You scoffed.

“I’d love to see you try.” Tsukishima took a couple steps back from you after speaking, as if to quite literally challenge you to do something. You weren’t a violent person to say the least, but at that moment you would’ve paid good money to punch the man before you in the face, and it seemed you were going to get the opportunity for free. How could you possibly pass that up?

You dropped your backpack onto the floor, lurching forward at Tsukishima before it even hit the floor. To your utter surprise he caught you before you got too close, his hand wrapped around your neck. It was nowhere near a tight grip, but it left you breathless, and forced you to look up at the blonde. There was this smirk on his face, like you had done exactly what he wanted you to, like he now had you in the palm of his hand. The look in his eye was so devilish, nobody had ever looked at you like that. You almost didn’t know what to make of it, almost.

“Now now, dumb little whores like you don’t get to touch me.” The pure filth that fell from his lips confirmed exactly what you rationalized from his gaze. It was all you needed.

“Fuck me, now.”

Tsukishima needed no further instruction, moving his hand off your throat and down to your thigh, pulling your leg up and prompting you to wrap yourself around him. He caught you midway through your small jump, and in an instant your lips crashed together. You couldn’t shake just how angry he made you, and he couldn’t shake how sexy you looked when you were mad. That little body of yours held so much aggression in it, and since he was more than willing to let out the beast in you, Tsukki was just as willing to tame it.

In fact, he would take great pleasure in doing so.

Tsukki walked back over to the table you two were sat at, placing you down onto the cold, manicured wood. The exchange of your lips was filled to the brim in the most carnal, lustful intent. The two of you fought for dominance with it, neither of you having even the slightest intention of backing down. Tsukishima was already more than frustrated with you, and your attempts to gain control of the situation weren't helping.

With a swift move he pulled away from the kiss and brought a hand around your neck once again, this time giving it a fairly decent grip. His face looked so calm, like this was nothing he hadn't done before, but his actions told a completely different story. How he managed to keep his expression so composed while taking full control of you made a shiver run down your spine, and the heat between your thighs grow exponentially.

“Listen; I’m the one in charge here, y/n. What makes you think a tiny, powerless slut like you could ever even attempt to control someone so much bigger, so much stronger than them, hm?”

“I-I dunno…” You stuttered out, much to Tsukishima’s liking.

“You don’t know, that's exactly what I thought. Well then, let me teach you where your place is.” While his left hand maintained its place around your throat, his right hand snaked up your thigh and under your skirt, his fingers ghosting over your clothed sex. The faint contact made you whine, you couldn't stand how badly you needed him to touch you. Your eyes pleaded for him to do something, and he basked in the glory of making you so weak so quickly. He then obliged, rubbing small, slow circles onto your clit.

“Your place is right here; being dominated by me. You will feel pleasure only when I allow you to. You will cum only when I allow you to. You will be obedient, and you’ll love every second of it. Am I understood?”

You nodded your head with what free range of motion you had, your hips bucking in the direction of his fingers, trying to gain more pleasure in the only way you currently could.

“Use your words, and address me only as sir.” He instructed, moving his fingers away from you. It was bad enough his moves were teasing at best, but denying you of any contact completely was infinitely worse.

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

Tsukishima let go of your throat, using both hands to undress you, leaving you in nothing but your panties, which were horribly stained with your eagerness. It stroked his ego immensely, looking at the girl who plagued his mind, who made him feel so inferior so many times, naked in front of him, so ready to be ravaged by him. So exposed, so pathetic, but so undeniably sexy.

He pulled up a chair, taking a seat in between your legs. His fingers danced over the skin of your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You felt so needy all you could do was whine, not a single beg or plead coming from you. He hooked a finger onto the side of your panties, pulling them over to get a good look at you. Your pussy glistened under the fluorescent lights, coated in wetness you had never experienced before. It was like a work of art for Tsukki, who took a minute to admire the piece before he pulled your underwear off of you entirely.

He took his left thumb and ran it down the length of your sex, dipping between your folds before coming back up to your clit, finally starting to please you again. A moan slipped from between your lips, filling the quiet of the room. Tsukishima brought two fingers from his opposite hand up to your lips, and without needing instruction you allowed them entry. Your tongue swirled around his digits, a slight hum ringing from your throat as your oral fixation was satisfied.

His fingers left your mouth with a small pop, and they were brought down to your core. They prodded at your entrance, teasing you by the anticipation of entry. You wanted it, wanted it so bad it was much more a need, and at that point you weren’t too proud to beg for it. Just as your lips parted Tsukishima pushed them into you, a whine coming from you instead. You fell back onto the table, your back arching off the wood as his fingers worked wonders unknown on you. With an upward curl he brushed up against your g-spot, your hips bucking upward in response. The pads of his fingers massaged the rough patch of flesh momentarily, making your legs shake as helpless little curses fell from your lips.

As he began pumping his fingers again he also sped up the rate at which his thumb circled your clit, and it became quite clear to Tsukki that your orgasm was approaching, and was doing so fast. You could feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, it was almost unbearable. You heard his voice say something, but your head was spinning you could barely make it out.

“Answer me, slut. I’m not repeating myself.” Was all you could make out, but considering you didn’t know the question, it was an impossible feat. Just as your orgasm was about to arrive Tsukishima removed his fingers from you, his thumb ceased all movement, and you were left with a ruined orgasm and your hips bucking into the air.

“You’re not cumming until you can answer one of my questions correctly. That should be good enough incentive for a stupid, needy little bitch like you, right?” You propped yourself up on your arms, looking at Tsukishima in utter bewilderment. You couldn’t believe what he was saying, or that he was going to make you answer questions in order to cum, but you had to admit he wasn’t wrong. It was a pretty good incentive.

“Y-yes sir.”

With a quick smirk Tsukki sank his head down between your thighs, his tongue dipping into your pussy, savoring your delectably sweet taste. His his hands held the backs of your thighs, giving himself unrestricted access to your sex. His tongue flicked over your clit every so often before lapping up your juices again, until he finally gave the bud uninterrupted attention. His lips latched around it, starting to suck as his fingers entered you once more. Your back arched sharply, and your hands moved to tangle into his hair, tugging on the blonde strands. Before you could even process what it was you had done, Tsukishima was hovering above you, slapping your cheek before taking a rough hold of your chin.

“I told you not to touch me, did I not?” You nodded your head frantically,

“You d-did, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you will be. Off the table.”

You followed your instructions, and as soon as your feet hit the ground Tsukishima pulled you onto your knees, and held your chin in his hand once again, forcing you to look up at him.

“I don't think I need to tell you what to do here, do I?” You shook your head lightly, your eyes full of wonder as you looked at him.

“No, sir.”

“Good, then show me that you're actually good at something.”

You shimmied in between Tsukishima’s legs, frantic hands fiddling with his belt as you tried to get his pants off as quickly as possible. You didn't know what was causing you to be so eager, but something in you urged you to act as quickly as possible. As you pulled his pants and boxers down his erection sprang free, the pure size of him catching you off guard. You were no inexperienced woman, this wasn't your first time seeing a penis, but you had yet to deal with anyone of his size. It was a bit intimidating, if you were to be completely honest.

As you were told, you weren't allowed to actually touch him. You presumed if you used your hands at all it wasn't going to end well for you, but to that you could fairly easily oldige. You licked a long stripe from the base of his length up to his tip, your tongue pressing along a vein that ran that same course. You circled his tip before sucking on it, letting out a satisfied moan around him as his precum leaked out onto your tastebuds.

You started to take him further into your mouth, each bob of your head adding another inch until you had all of him. Your eyes watered as you felt him in the back of your throat, and you gasped as you came up for air. Tsukishima looked down at you, smirking as he saw a tear run down your cheek.

“You should do more of that.”

“More of what?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion.

“Crying for me.”

Tsukki took hold of your hair, forcing his cock into your mouth and once again making you take the entirety of him. He held you there, letting out a groan as you choked around him. He brought you up for air and marveled at the tears running down your face, and the desperate look in your eyes. It was art for him and him alone to scrutinize, and he was most certainly a fan of the piece. Before you could fully focus your attention he was in your mouth again, his hips pushing up off the chair as he fucked your face. You gagged around his length, the sounds remarkably gratifying for Tsukishima to hear.

He brought you back up for air one final time, holding your head up so the two of you made eye contact. He chuckled at you, admiring your current state. Spit dribbled from the sides of your mouth, tears spilled out of your eyes, and you were perilously trying to catch your breath.

“Messy little girl. You're looking more and more like the stupid little slut I've always known you are. Cmon, say it for me, tell me you're a stupid little slut.”

As if his words weren't degrading enough, this request was surely the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of the sundae. He had you exactly where he wanted you, powerless and obedient. Just a small little toy for him to play with how he pleased. He wasn't satisfied with your lack of obedience, and slapped your cheek once again, roughly grabbing your face after.

“I wasn't giving you an option. Say it.” He demanded.

“I-I’m a stupid little slut.” You complied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I can't fucking hear you.”

“I’m a stupid little slut!” You repeated, much louder this time. Tsukishima let out a satisfied chuckle, nodding his head.

“That's right, and who's stupid little slut are you?”

“Y-your stupid little slut, sir.”

“That’s right.”

Tsukishima pulled you up off the floor, laying you out on the table. He pulled his shirt off, your eyes combing over every little detail of him. You knew on top of being a student he played volleyball, so he had to be fairly muscular, but you weren't expecting what you got. He had a body even Odysseus would be jealous of, making you the ever loyal Penelope.

Tsukki lubed himself up with your wetness, as you were far from falling short of it. No man was ever this rough with you, ever this dominant. It turned you on more than you would like to admit, but there was no need to with Tsukishima. He could tell from the look in your eyes, the tone of your voice, the way your hips slightly bucked as you sucked him off.

Without warning his tip began to prod at your entrance before starting to slip in. It was no easy feat, though. You were incredibly tight, and even then you hadn't taken anything even close to Tsukishima’s size. He took things slow, watching as every inch of him stretched you further. You whimpered at the sensation, it was intoxicating beyond what your words could even describe. A groan slipped between his lips as he bottomed out, light curses following it. The way you tightened around him made it so hard for him to control himself, but he knew you needed a moment, and he wasn't trying to hurt you.

Not at the moment, at least.

You nodded your head lightly as you felt adjusted, giving him free reign over your body once again. Tsukki grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head before he began to move. He slowly started to pull out, and with a sudden snap you were once again taking all of him, a soft scream coming from you. He did this a couple times, watching how your body jolted. Feeling how your thighs tensed up next to him. Each of these thrusts hit your cervix, sending you reeling each time.

He picked up the pace, starting to pound into you at a relentless pace. You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him close and forcing him to go as deep in you as possible. Tsukishima brought one of his hands down to wrap around your neck, the other still holding your wrists in place. He gave the sides of your neck a squeeze, the lack of circulation rushing toward you just as he hit you with a particularly hard thrust. A light scream fell from your lips, the pleasure in that moment so crazily overwhelming. This routine continued; harder thrusts while he actively choked you, very slightly less hard ones as he gave you a moment to breathe correctly, all the while denying you of your high.

“You better not cum, slut.” He warned as he felt you once again starting to get just a bit too tight around him.

“W-wanna cum....so bad.” You weakly replied, tears welling in your eyes as you spoke. Once again, just as you were on the precipice of release, Tsukishima denied you again, pulling out and leaving you empty. Tears fell from your eyes as you uselessly whimpered and protested, all of it only earning you another slap to your cheek.

“Really thought I’d let you, huh? Dumb little bitch.” He said as he turned you over onto your stomach. He filled you up again, but before he moved any further he began raining spank after spank onto your ass. You could only assume it was punishment, but it felt far from it. The pain was nothing but masochistic pleasure for you, and sadistic pleasure for him. Each stung more than the last, and thus each felt even better than the last.

Your senses were so overloaded as he started to thrust into you again that your brain had turned to utter mush. Coherent thought was so far behind you it was like it was never something you could’ve done in the first place. The only thing you could process was pleasure, and to enhance it you lifted one of your legs back up onto the table, the other continuing to stay hanging over to keep yourself up. This new angle let Tsukishima hit sinfully deep in you once again, adding to the utter brainrot you were experiencing. Words no longer were an option for you, only whines and whimpers, a stray profanity at the very best.

Tsukishima grabbed a fistful of your hair, picking your head up off the table. He made you look in the direction of the door, bending down to speak into your ear.

“Look, you left the door unlocked. Someone could come in at any moment and watch you getting fucked like the little whore you are. But I’m sure you'd like it if someone saw us, wouldn't you?”

You couldn't bring yourself to form any sort of coherent response, and Tsukki very well knew that. He chuckled at your attempt to reply, which was just a rhythmic whine as if you were trying to get some words out.

“You're not very quiet, either. Stupid sluts like you like having everyone know how good they feel, don't they? I’m sure someone's come by to spy in, hearing how utterly pathetic you sound.”

His words only made you whine and whimper more, your head in an absolute daze from the sheer amount of pleasure you felt. Tsukki let go of your hair and your head fell down, and you got a good look at yourself in the mirrored wood table. Your mouth was hanging open, your hair a tangled mess and drool slipping from the corner of your parted lips. He had fucked you so past dumb you didn't even know you could be this far gone, and all the while you still had no clue if you would be allowed to cum.

Your hips pushed back against his, meeting every one of his thrusts and forcing him deeper. Each time he re-entered his tip made quick contact with your cervix, the repeated feeling driving you absolutely crazy. Your eyes rolled back as you let yourself fall onto the wood once again. You took everything he gave you, all the while holding your orgasm back. Each time he felt you were a little too close he pulled out, you couldn't even count how many times you'd been denied release, you were sure the number was shameful. You could tell this was getting harder on Tsukishima as well, the twitching and pulsating of his cock inside you letting you know he was having trouble holding back as well.

You saw no use in begging at this point, and you couldn't have mustered the words for it even if you wanted to. You simply whined and whimpered with every thrust, your body jolting forward each time. Tsukki held on tight to your hips, keeping you in place as he pounded mercilessly into you. In your daze all your senses had dulled, but you could hear just enough for Tsukishima's next four words to be heard, almost as clear as day.

“Cum. Do it now.”

In an instant you finally let yourself topple over the edge. Your voice was so hoarse you couldn't scream, rather you let out something between an incredibly loud moan and a whimper, your back arching and your legs shaking vigorously. Tears spilled from your eyes as your body was overrun by an orgasm unlike any other you had experienced. The feeling was only intensified by Tsukishima cumming inside you, depositing a sizable load inside of you. Your vision was blurry and a little white around the edges, and your chest heaved as you let out shallow breaths. Soreness set into your body as you took time to regain yourself, almost ten minutes passing before either of you even thought to move.

Tsukki pulled out of you slowly, admiring how fucked out you looked, your small body sprawled out on the table. He figured moving would be hard for you, so he gently let your leg down and peeled you off the table, sitting down in the chair behind him and sitting you on his lap. Your head fell on his shoulder, your eyes still a little glazed over, but for the most part it seemed you had come to.

“Are you feeling okay?” You nodded your head lightly, your breath finally leveling out. Your throat was pretty scratchy, and you knew your voice would be raspy, so you just didn't bother speaking yet.

“What have you learned today, then?”

“A good couple things.” You croaked out, wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“Oh really? Enlighten me.”

“Well, I learned that economics is just something I'm never really going to understand. I also learned that you are a complete and utter asshole, even worse than I thought. Finally, I learned that you are a way more experienced man than I thought you were, and maybe I don't hate you as much as I was letting on.”

Tsukishima laughed out lightly, giving you a bit of an approving nod.

“Good, I’m glad I at least taught you something. Maybe not what I originally intended, but learning is learning. I think with a couple more study sessions you’ll start to understand the econ material, though.”

You didn't say this out loud, but the thought of getting to spend some more alone time with Tsukishima actually wasn't the most terrible thought in the world. It seemed clear enough to you that the resentment between you two was clearly something much, much different than that, and so you were open to the thought of exploring what it actually was. Maybe not in as much of an erotic way as you just had next time. Not that you would've minded if it escalated to that point.

Although, you thought, if Tsukki was going to fuck you like that every time, brainrot from class material was going to be the least of your worries.

The both of you made yourselves presentable again, packing up all your belongings and leaving the room clean before walking out, which you did fairly slowly due to how sore your legs were. You both walked through the library, which was overwhelmingly empty besides a few staff members working hard at hardly working. It was to be expected; it was a Friday night and you were the only two in the world who'd pick studying over any other activity. You stopped just outside the entrance, turning to your side and giving Tsukishima a wave.

“I guess I’ll catch you later then, Tsukishima.”

“Oh, so no thank you for helping you study? I guess the one thing I didn't teach you was manners, huh y/n?” You chuckled at his comment, shaking your head a bit.

“Guess you didn’t. It’ll have to wait until next time.” You turned on your heel and started in the direction of the train. Before you could get far Tsukki grabbed your arm and pulled you back over to him, holding your chin so softly with his other hand, the action so outrageously condescending.

“Oh no, I’ll gladly teach you right now.”

#tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #tsukishima smut #tsukishima #hq x you #hq tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima oneshot #haikyuu!!

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blu-joons · 4 years ago

Text

You Have Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)

Chan:

You were confused when you saw Chan’s name pop up on your phone, convinced that he was supposed to be in the middle of a meeting for the group. Regardless, you picked up, hearing him sigh as soon as you did.

Your heart pounded with worry as you heard him clear his throat, “I’ve been outside for half an hour now waiting for you at the restaurant, did you not remember I took a half day?”

Your eyes darted up to look at the clock on the wall, and then the date on the calendar, quickly realising what today was.

“Chan,” you whispered, letting go of a shaky breath. “I completely forgot, if you just wait ten minutes, I’ll be able to get there and we can still eat together, do we still have the reservation?”

“No, don’t worry yourself, I’ll grab takeout, I’d prefer to eat at home with you anyway,” he tried to comfort you, “just get some bits sorted at home and I’ll be there soon.”

“I promise that I’ll find a way to make this up to you Chan, I’m so sorry.”

Minho:

He couldn’t help but let go of a sigh as he read through the essay, you’d been writing that you’d left out on your desk. He knew there were times when you struggled, but the mistakes that you made certainly caught his attention.

He was so concentrated, that he failed to notice you walking back up into your room. “I know what you’re looking for, you don’t need to tell me that there’s mistakes in there.”

His head shook, encouraging you to take a seat beside him. He knew that you wanted it to be perfect, so that was what he was going to do to help.

“Just don’t panic,” he quickly assured you, “the essay itself is really good, but I know you’ll hate me if I don’t tell you that there are a couple of things that could do with improving.”

“I’d rather you tell me,” you responded, as hard as it was for you to hear. “You’re right, I do want this to be perfect, so as much as it sucks, I guess I’m going to have to listen to you.”

“I’m helping you, just remember that when you want to punch me over this.”

Changbin:

Any time when there was silence at the studio, it confused you. The boys were usually so loud, that when the room was peaceful, you never quite knew what to do, silently wishing for someone to make some noise again.

Changbin quickly caught onto how uncomfortable the new atmosphere made you. “Talk to me if you want a bit of noise Y/N.”

As soon as he spoke, you began to talk to him about anything that came to mind, just so that the room was completely silent anymore.

“Why don’t we talk about what we can get up to once I finish work for the day?” He suggested as soon as he noticed that you were running out of things to say. “Shall we try the Thai place?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, looking around at the rest of the boys who were all lost in their phones, “it feels weird to see them all being so quiet, I’m not used to it.”

“Make the most of it, once the phones go down, the noise will go up.”

Hyunjin:

To begin with, Hyunjin tried to ignore it, but the sound of your pen tapping against the paper as you thought eventually became too much, causing him to eventually snap at you and make you jump at his voice.

Instantly, he felt bad, noticing you trying to write a list of things to pack. “I’m sorry, the noise was just getting a little bit irritating to listen to you.”

Your head nodded, trying to refrain yourself from being any more disturbing than you were for Hyunjin as he tried to concentrate.

“Let me help,” he spoke up again, coming to your side. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you; I know that you’re trying to think. Why don’t we go through the things that you need together?”

“I know there’s a few things I’ve forgotten,” you sighed, sliding your list across for him to have a look at. “But nothing is coming to mind for what else I might need for the trip.”

“I reckon a good start might be to at least write down your toothbrush jagi.”

Han:

His heart sunk when he watched you tear yet another piece of paper out of your notepad, he already knew exactly why you’d thrown it away, just like you did with most of the things that you scribbled in the pad of paper.

Jisung walked straight across to you as you did so. “Why don’t you let me help you if you’re worried about getting it wrong? You’re putting too much pressure on yourself.”

You didn’t respond, but Jisung knew that deep down you were desperate for his help to try and get your letter spot on.

“Just take it slowly,” he encouraged, helping you with every word, stopping you before you made a mistake. “If you’re not sure, just ask me, I’m here to help you after all Y/N.”

“These are simple errors,” you frowned, “I should be able to spot these the first time without looking back over it and realising mistake after mistake that I’m making,” you groaned loudly.

“We all make mistakes sometimes, let’s just try and fix them instead.”

Felix:

Another groan came from you as the two of you continued to wait at the airport to check in and get on your flight to Australia. Felix could quickly tell you were getting agitated as you bounced up and down on your toes.

His eyes stared across at you, “there shouldn’t be that much longer to wait, just don’t get yourself stressed or anything jagi.”

Your eyes rolled, with each passing second, your impatient grew as you desperately wanted to get moving again.

“We can’t jump the queue,” Felix pointed out to you as you groaned yet again. “Just think, the longer that we queue now, the less time we’ll have to queue once we’re in the departure lounge.”

“Queuing sucks,” you sighed, resting against his shoulder. “I just want to get moving again, I’m fed up with being made to stand still, why are they all taking so long to get a move on?”

“They’re working as fast as they can, I promise we’ll get moving soon.”

Seungmin:

Your mind was absent as the two of you walked side by side, Seungmin knew that you were pretty distant beside him, but the grip that he had on your hand was enough for him to know that you were still beside him.

However, as an elderly couple came from the opposite direction, Seungmin had to pull you last minute to get out of the way as you failed to notice them. “What are you doing? You could have hurt them.”

It was only once you’d passed the couple, did you realise they were there. Glancing back to look at them stare back at you.

“Don’t panic, they’re alright,” Seungmin assured you, noticing that the incident had shook you up. “You just weren’t concentrating, that’s all, but no one got hurt, did they?”

“But they could have done,” you whispered, resting your free hand against your forehead. “If you hadn’t have pulled me out of the way I could have been responsible for hurting them.”

“But you didn’t hurt them, just concentrate a little more next time.”

I.N:

As soon as you got to the checkout, you handed the new shirt that you wanted to purchase across to the cashier. You reached into your pocket, unable to feel your purse, peering into your handbag to see that your purse wasn’t there either.

Your eyes darted back to Jeongin behind you, “I’ve left my purse at the dorm again, I’m just going to have to hand the shirt back, I can’t pay for it now.”

Before you even finished speaking, Jeongin stepped forwards and covered the cost, saving you from any further embarrassment.

“Sometimes I think I should glue your wallet to you,” he teased, “we all forget things from time to time, there’s no need to get upset with yourself, you’ve still got your shirt.”

“I’ll pay you back,” you quickly informed him, but his head shook. “If you hadn’t had been there, do you have any idea how embarrassing that could have been for me Jeongin.”

“But I was there, so you don’t need to worry about what if.”

---

Masterlist

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 24 part two

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Arguing

After enjoying a tense afternoon with Lan Xichen, Wei Wuxian comes home to enjoy a tense evening with Jiang Cheng. He pauses in the doorway as he takes in Jiang Cheng’s mood and decides which metaphorical mask he will put on to interact with his shidi. As someone who grew up with explosive people, I find this routine very familiar.

Wei Wuxian is always carefully playing a role as he interacts with the people in his life. Clearly he has read the classic sociology text The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life and is using it as a how-to guide. We see him do this same calculation over and over, in which he reacts internally to a situation, comes to a decision about what persona to inhabit, and then dons that persona. It’s a typical abuse survival tactic and...it is exhausting.

This is why I think his leaving to be alone for a while in Episode 50 is a good thing. Being alone isn’t better than being with someone else, usually, but for Wei Wuxian, who is (by Episode 50) assured of love but not sure where he belongs in his own life, being by himself for a while is going to be the best thing for him. He can learn how to just be a person, instead of constantly trying to mold himself to fit everyone around him.

For the current tense situation, Jiang Cheng is polishing his sword, which, incidentally, is slang (in English, not necessarily in Chinese) for masturbating. Which makes their conversation about how frequently it needs doing kind of a hoot. “One time a month should do,” per Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng yells at Wei Wuxian--fairly, really--for being drunk all the time and not working on clan tasks. Then he responds to a hug attempt by shoving Wei Wuxian and knocking him down. JC asks WW if he’s too drunk to manage his spiritual power. Now, we know that he doesn’t have any spiritual power to manage, and that’s the main point of this interaction. But it also shows us something else about their dynamic.

This was just a quick hit, and when it takes WWX out, JC asks why he isn’t responding with spiritual power. Which means that apparently *every* time Jiang Cheng gives Wei Wuxian a shove or a shoulder check, or strikes him--like he’s been doing constantly since Episode 3--he’s putting spiritual power behind it. That’s...really harsh.

Jiang Cheng wants Wei Wuxian to fight back, and Wei Wuxian can’t; this is a big part of why their relationship breaks down. Casual blows loaded with spiritual power are part of their vocabulary, and Wei Wuxian can’t speak that language any more, even for basic defense. He’s literally not safe having simple interactions with Jiang Cheng now, because he’s secretly disabled, and Jiang Cheng is casually injuring him whenever he gets too close.

(more after the cut!)

This time Wei Wuxian has had enough, and raises Chenqing to Jiang Cheng, who immediately backs off. Jiang Cheng has seen that thing in action, not just on the battlefield, but in a small room full of whatever remained of Wen Chao when they were done with him. He takes this as a serious threat, and backs off, disturbed and puzzled and hurt.

Jiang Cheng thinks the change in Wei Wuxian is coming from apathy, not from disability, and so he misunderstands it over and over. Think of a friend saying “whatever, I’m sick of arguing with you, do what you want.” Jiang Cheng is very ready to feel rejected, and not at all ready to look at Wei Wuxian’s behavior and try to actually understand it.

Crying Over You

Wei Wuxian bails and goes to see Jiang Yanli in the ancestral hall, where she is polishing a name plaque. I turned the gamma way up to see whose it is and...I dunno. This character might be 江 (Jiang), I guess?

Jiang Yanli is the only one of the trio who knows how to mourn properly, in that she is taking some time to sit and be sad. Mourning the dead--both ritually and just in the emotional sense--is as important a part of reclaiming Lotus Pier as the training of disciples and having good times on the lake.

She asks him about his fight with Jiang Cheng and he says he’s used to fighting with him. Jiang Yanli asks him if he’s tired of living there, and Wei Wuxian deflects and deflects, saying “it’s my home, where else would I go?” and that if Jiang Fengmian hadn’t adopted him he would still be begging in the streets. He says “no matter what happens, I won’t leave Lotus Pier,” which is not an answer to her question.

It’s also not true. Like so many of his promises, it’s an expression of his wishes, with no space for the surprises real life is made of. He promises her that he won’t be reckless again, and asks her not to be mad at him. She says she can’t be mad at him, and then they share a flashback about Jiang Fengmian finding him on the street. This is a story, not a memory; Wei Wuxian can’t remember but he remembers her telling him about it. Jiang Yanli wasn’t there, in the moment. So this is her telling the story as it was told to her, probably by Jiang Fengmian.

Flashback Time

In the flashback, picky salad-hating Wei Ying is out on the street, looking for food in a cartload of pretty okay scraps. I mean, yeah, skip the tomatoes, but most of the greens look fine.

He’s found and fed by Jiang Fengmian, who recognizes him and decides to take him in.

Within a couple of episodes, we will see Wei Wuxian paying this favor forward, saving someone he finds starving on the street. Just like Jiang Fengmian, he's going to upset and disrupt his family in order to help someone for whom he feels a deep connection.

During this flashback we get a look at Jiang Fengmian’s sword, and it is a beauty.

What is Love

As the flashback ends, Wei Wuxian is smiling, hearing Jiang Yanli tell this touching story of starvation and orphanhood. She tells him he was born with a smiling face, and that he never minds much about sorrowful things; no matter how bad the situation is, he is always happy. Way to reinforce that metaphorical mask he’s wearing over his deep, deep despair, sis!

They talk a bit about Jiang Cheng’s bad temper. Then Jiang Yanli says now that her parents are gone, they three are the closest in the world, and he responds by putting his head down on her knee and theatrically saying he’s hungry. But he’s crying for real, and so is she.

Then he decides to ask her why people fall in love, basically, and claims that he does not have anyone in his heart. He says there’s no need to like a person that much, that it’s like “haltering your own neck,” according to Netflix. Let’s have a look at that figurative language for a second, and what’s missing from the Neflix translation.

What he says is (as near as my qhanzi.com skills can make out) “這不就是自己給自己脖子上套犁拴韁吗” which Google tells me means "Isn't this just putting a plow on my neck with a rein?" The part of the image that’s missing from Netflix subs is the plow, and the hard labor and animal servitude involved in pulling a plow. This isn’t a pro-romance image.

He’s clearly thinking about Lan Wangji when he lies about having no-one in his heart, but right now the yoke that he wants to escape has nothing to do with Lan Wangji. The person he’s harnessed to in a team, the person who he labors with, the person he wants to escape, is Jiang Cheng. What’s chafing his neck is the promise he made, to stay and serve as one half of a pair, when he can no longer pull his weight.

Busted

Speaking of Jiang Cheng, he is hanging around outside the shrine, listening to the conversation. Wei Wuxian busts him, pointing out not that eavesdropping is bad, but that it’s bad for grownups. Jiang Cheng points out that he’s the master of Lotus Pier so he’s allowed to go anywhere he wants.

(I love how he looks framed by this giant lotus behind him)

We Wuxian has another of those moments where he assesses the best approach to Jiang Cheng before responding.

Then he picks a fake fight with him about soup. Yanli comes out and tells them both to grow up, saying that JC is losing his demeanor as clan leader. He jokingly fixes his already-perfect robe ad they all have a chuckle.

Then Jiang Cheng reminds Wei Wuxian of his promise for the millionth time, and Jiang Yanli goes to make soup for the millionth time. As soon as the boys see that she’s gone, the smiles drop right off of their faces. They’re both performing their typical relationship dynamic for Jiang Yanli.

Being Reasonable

The brothers repair to the main hall, and stand behind the lotus throne looking out of this complicated wall/doorway thingy, while they talk about Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan.

Jiang Cheng is being mature and sensible here, trying to give Jiang Yanli what she wants and also explaining very, very basic political stuff to Wei Wuxian, who is too caught up in his hate boner for JZX to want to think about the bigger picture. He also thinks that Jin Guangyao is a nicer person, but Jiang Cheng says that nice doesn’t matter.

Wei Wuxian is getting a full head of steam going about what a jerk JZX is, when Jiang Cheng makes him actually stop and think, by pointing out that it’s not for them to forgive or not forgive Jin Zixuan’s past behavior; it’s up to Yanli.

Wei Wuxian sees the reasoning in this, and starts to say he can’t understand why Yanli chose to like this person, but then he stops himself and goes through a rapid series of thoughtful, uncomfortable expressions.

Perhaps he’s realizing that he himself has chosen to like an infamously stuck-up, fancy cultivator, albeit one with no soup-related character deficits.

Library Time

The stuck-up cultivator in question is currently in the Cloud Recesses library, where he has snuck into the forbidden books room, against his uncle’s express command, for the purpose of helping Wei Wuxian. The forbidden books room is an entire basement floor of the library; it probably has more books than the not-forbidden part of the library, since the main floor needs space for the restrooms, circulation desk, and copy machines.

(Did OP photoshop the Wangxian-in-the-Library porn picture onto Lan Wangjis’ book? She did.)

A couple of other Lans come along and see the main door unlocked. The lock is a big fish that probably uses magic for locking; it definitely doesn’t use a key. One of them steps in the doorway, glances back and forth without walking through, and does not check the secret door to the forbidden vault. Gosh, how did Su She and/or Jin Guangyao ever manage to steal secrets from this highly secure location, wow.

Lan Wangji hears the Lan disciple on guard duty say “don’t tell Hanguang Jun about this!’ and has a series of microexpressions that might indicate some kind of feeling about simultaneously being a rule breaker and a rule enforcer.

Boat Time

We end with an idyllic scene on the lake in Lotus pier, where a new batch of disciples is harvesting lotuses and learning the opposite of boat safety.

Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian are having a good time, and seem utterly carefree; both of them are good at living in the moment, or faking it.

Wei Wuxian thinks, in voiceover, that it seems that it’s not so hard to go back to the old days. Uh...ok.

Except he’s hiding a massive secret and these replacement kids are not the same juniors he used to hang out with, and he can’t actually teach them cultivation, since he has no socially-acceptable magic power, and everything is about to go to shit in the next episode. But you gotta take your joy where you can, I guess.

Note: There are a lot of questionable effects in The Untamed, but there are also beautiful scenes like this one, which looks like a Maxfield Parrish painting. Compare with the BTS below and you can see what a good job the VFX team did in bringing this lake to life.

#the untamed #cql #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #the untamed gifs #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years ago

Text

"....So I Married A Murderer" *Chapter 4*

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Look I know I'm not helping myself with the Olivia stans, but in my defense this is a totally legitimate situation. And valid feelings towards Olivia given said situation. I'm not saying she's actually the bad guy here, but from an outsider's prospective without having actually seen what Lewis did to her, it's really just Olivia's hearsay. Am I wrong?!

That being said you know she's always gotta have that thing for Rafa, wedging her way in there. I'm sorry, it has to happen.

Tag List

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@believinghurts

------------------------

“Uh, who is it?” Rafael called through the door, still panting from the work out his was mouth was getting.

“It’s me,” Olivia’s voice came back through.

“Shit…” Rafael pushed you off him and straightened himself up. You had never seen him ‘jump’ so fast when someone beckoned. Then again you hadn’t really seen him at work; but you thought he’d be more dominant than he was acting.

“Come in,” He instructed as he smoothed out his suit. Olivia opened the door and walked in, her face went from a smile to a scowl when she saw you standing there.

“Is this…?” She eyed you.

“Olivia this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” He gestured to you.

You had to smile, even though you were severely uncomfortable with the awkward exchange and introductions. You really hadn’t heard Rafael ever introduce you to anyone, let alone as his girlfriend. And also, you were relieved he still thought of you as such. Although you weren’t really sure how long that was going to last.

“Oh she’s your girlfriend now?” Olivia crossed her arms, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. What was her problem?

“What are you talking about Liv?” Rafael took your hand defensively. “She’s always been my girlfriend, you know that,”

“Uh huh and now that she’s in cahoots with Lewis?”

“Cahoots,” You snickered, causing the both of them to give you a look. “What? It’s a funny word…” You now looked at the floor in embarrassment. Excuse you for trying to lighten the mood.

“She’s not in ‘cahoots’ with Lewis…” He assured Olivia, then turned to you. “Are you, carino?”

“Uh…” How were you supposed to answer that? Obviously you weren’t helping him plan his next murder, but you also came down here with the specific intent to defend him to Rafael. Your pause gave both Rafael and Olivia concern.

“Y/N…” Rafael said more seriously, dropping your hand.

“Well…” You tugged at your blazer. “I’m not helping plan any murders, if that’s what you’re saying,”

“Oh my god…” Rafael muttered, looking away from you.

“Raff, look--”

“No no no,” Olivia now stepped in between the two of you. “No ‘Raff’, lady,” She glared at you.

“Excuse the hell out of you, woman,” You glared right back.

“If you’re planning on helping that monster with anything--” Olivia got in your face.

“Why is he a monster?” You stepped right into her, not afraid of her tough guy act.

“Excuse me?” Oliva narrowed her eyes harder.

“I want to hear in specific details, just exactly why you think he’s a monster,” You challenged her.

“Wha--?” She looked at Rafael in disbelief. “Because he kidnapped me? Tortured me? Almost killed me?!”

“From what I saw you almost killed him, Ms. Benson,” You said snidely.

“Excuse me?” Olivia was stunned at your defiance.

“I saw the scars on his face, and his damaged ear. He’s partially deaf now, because of you,” You explained.

“Wow…” Olivia exhaled sarcastically. “WOW….”

“Y/N,” Rafael’s voice softened. “No offense but, you don’t know what you’re talking about--”

“Are they fake?” You asked.

“What?” He replied quizzically.

“The scars,” you clarified. “Are they fake?”

“Well no, but--”

“So she did beat him within an inch of his life?” You gestured towards Olivia.

“I HAD TO!!!” Olivia screamed.

“BULLSHIT!!!!!!” You screamed back at her.

“Y/N!” Rafael yelled, trying to get your attention over the screaming.

“You’re telling me, that once you got him unconscious,” You narrowed your eyes. “Which, let’s be real would only take a few blows to the head, if not just one,”

Olivia exhaled again, crossing her arms and looking away from you as you approached her slowly.

“That you couldn’t have just-- I don’t know, run away? Gotten help?” You got even closer, lowering your voice to a growl. “That you just had to beat my husband to all hell?”

“Y/N…” Rafael’s voice sounded hurt now, hearing you call Lewis your husband.

“Yes,” Olivia stuck to her guns.

“You’re a fucking liar,” You resisted the urge to spit in her face as you backed away from her.

“You really know how to pick ‘em, don’t you Barba?” Olivia scoffed.

You suddenly remembered Rafael being in the room, hearing you defend Bobby like that. You turned to see him with tears in his eyes, betrayal on his face.

“Y/N you need to leave,” Rafael said in a soft but terse tone.

“No,” You crossed your arms now. You did feel bad that you were turning on him, but if he was going to defend this bitch just because she was his friend, you were angry at him too.

“Rafael,” You lowered your voice but kept your anger. “Look you weren’t there. You’re just taking her word for it--”

“And you’re just taking Lewis’s word for it!” Rafael didn't falter

“Because he was my HUSBAND!” You exclaimed angrily. If he wasn't backing down, neither were you.

“She’s my BEST FRIEND!!!” He argued,

“Oh is she? Now she’s your best friend? Because that’s not what you said the other night. Or were you lying to me?” You now were starting to doubt anything he said to you.

“W-What?” Olivia said softly, making Rafael turn to her sadly. Now she had the betrayed look on her face.

“A I told you not to tell her, and B--” He paused as he walked over to Liv with a pathetic look before turning back to you. “I thought you were.”

“You thought I was?” You bit your lip, afraid of what was coming.

“Y/N if you’re going to...to choose that monster over me, how the fuck am I supposed to consider you a friend?”

“I’m not ‘choosing’ him Rafael,” Angry tears stung your eyes. “You KNOW she’s lying! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Look you weren’t there either Y/N,” Rafael said sternly. “You don’t know the kind of trauma he put her through--”

“So that makes it okay?” You challenged him, still glaring at Olivia. “Last time I checked, the NYPD wasn’t built on ‘Marshall Law’,”

“It wasn’t--” Rafael started.

“I didn’t kill him!” Olivia defended herself.

“Oh gee detective, how kind of you,” You mocked her. “You let him live with severe deficits because-- what? He wouldn’t sleep with you? Because you had a bad trip?”

“THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED, YOU LITTLE BITCH!!!!!” Olivia charged you, and before Rafael could do anything she was on top of you, slapping the shit out of you.

“OLIVIA!!!!” Rafael screamed before immediately pulling Olivia off of you. You stood up in shock and anger, your face hot and swelling from her hands across it.

“...And you’re going to believe THAT, over Billy?” You gestured to Olivia.

“Alright that was a little much--” He conceded to Olivia's little stunt.

A LITTLE MUCH?!” You now screamed while stomping your foot. “I didn’t even do anything to her, and she ATTACKED me!”

“You were cornering her--” He kept making excuses for her.

“You’re still defending her,” You laughed dryly, tears apparent in your voice. “She just attacked me, and you’re still defending her,”

“Y/N,” His voice was now soft and sorry. “Baby, I--” He went to take your hand.

“No,” You snapped it away and backed away from the two of them. “Don’t you fucking dare start ‘baby’ now, Rafael,”

“You had the audacity to act betrayed when I defended Billy, who has never done ANYTHING to you. When you-- you ACTUALLY see your little ginger there attack me, and defend her?” Angry, hot tears now spilled down your face.

“Baby please--” He begged you just as he had at your house the night before.

“No,” You shook your head. “No, I’m not falling for this-- ‘baby please, I love you, you’re in danger, I’m the good guy,’ bullshit anymore,”

“It’s not bullshit!” Rafael replied frantically. He knew he was losing you.

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, the only ‘monster’ here is her,” You gestured towards Olivia who was still quietly raging from earlier.

“You know Billy wants to get back together,” You said simply to Rafael.

“What….NO,” Rafael was really beginning to panic now. “No you can’t go back to that--”

“If you say ‘monster’ one more time I swear to God Rafael--”

“What, are you gonna hit him?” Olivia mocked him.

“No, that’s what YOU do, captain!” You spat.

“Amor, please don’t do this,” He used spanish pet names, knowing they were your weakness. “Please don’t just go back to him because you’re mad at me. You don’t know what he’ll--”

“He won’t do anything to me, Rafael,” You rolled your eyes.

“B-But you don’t even love him anymore--” He stammered.

“MAYBE I DO!” You screamed angrily.

“W-What?” Rafael gasped.

“Billy left me, Rafael,” You started to cry.

“I didn’t leave him. Yeah he hurt me, he broke my heart. But--” You looked up at the sky, really hating to admit this to him. “But I never stopped loving him,”

“....Well he doesn’t love you,” Rafael’s face now turned to a deep dark scowl. “He told me that himself,”

“Oh, did he?” You rolled your eyes, licking back your tears.

“He did,” Rafael’s voice was now eerily calm and quiet.

“He said that he stopped being in love with you a long time ago, that he wanted to kill you. The only reason he didn’t is because he didn’t want to upset your daughters!”

“That’s not--” You shook your head.

Maybe it was true, but maybe he just wanted to kill someone, not you. Sure it wasn’t the greatest argument, but right now it was all you had. You weren’t about to concede to Rafael right now, not after all the bullshit that just went down.

“He said the only reason he doesn’t want me with you is because he doesn’t like people touching his ‘things’!” He went on. “He called you a THING, Y/N. Not his wife, not a person, a THING,”

“Shut up,” You growled.

“He’s just manipulating you, Y/N,” He kept a stern tone. “He’s playing you so that he--”

“So that he can what, Rafael?” You cut him off. “Go back to killing people? You don’t think he’s been doing that already? Or what, do you think he’s going to come back after your lady love?”

“She’s not my--”

“He’s not stupid, Rafael,” You spat.

“He obviously knows I know who, or--what, he is now. He knows that if he starts going on ‘business trips’, that I’ll know. He’s holding himself accountable now. Now you tell me, why would he do that if he didn’t love me? If he didn’t love our family?”

“..I….” Rafael tried to rack his brain for some sort of logical reason, any logical reason.

“Because he still wants to get to me,” Olivia added like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh shut up, you twat,” You flipped her the bird.

“I said he’s not stupid. He’s not going to come after you, risk going back to prison. Or y’know, risk getting murdered by you,”

“I am not a murderer!” She stomped her foot.

“No, you’re just a sadistic, manipulative, evil wench,” You barked.

“You think Billy just wants me for himself, Rafael?” You half laughed while now addressing him. “What the fuck do you think she wants with you?”

"That's not--" Rafael tried to defend Liv again, but you weren't done.

“You say that I’m the one in danger, I’m the one who’s the with the psychopath, but look in the mirror,” You stared daggers into her.

“Maybe we’re just both attracted to monsters,” You bit the side of your cheek. “Maybe that’s our fatal flaw. Maybe we were never supposed to be together,”

“No,” Rafael shook his head and grabbed your hands before you could pull away. “No that is not true, don’t you ever say that,”

“Why not?!” You cried.

“Because I love you, Y/N,” He started to cry himself. “I know--- I know it looks bad, and I’m-- I’m sorry that we’re on opposite ends of this, but--” He paused, trying to compose himself.

“I may be upset with you, but that doesn’t mean that I stopped loving you. I will never stop loving you, you have to believe me,”

“Yeah well,” You broke free from his grasp, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh, sobs dripping in your words.

“Maybe that’s the problem, Rafael. I don’t believe you,” You walked backwards towards the door.

“We’re done,” You turned on your heels and bolted out the door before you could break down sobbing in front of them. You wouldn’t give Olivia the satisfaction.

----------

“...You realize we’re going to have to go after her now, right Rafa?”

“Just--” Rafael put his hands over his face. “Just give me a fucking minute, Olivia,”

“But she--” Olivia’s words were cut off by Rafael’s phone going off.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

“No…” Rafael’s eyes widened. “No there is no way he could--”

“Answer it!” Olivia cried. Rafael put it on speaker.

“....Hello?”

“Damn Barba, you make this way too easy, it’s almost not fun anymore,”

“Lewis,”

“See, here I thought my wife’s little crush on you would deter her from believing me, but you just sent her running back into my arms,”

“You--”

“Actually I guess I should be thanking the good detective there, eh Olivia?”

“You son of a--”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me here, fire crotch,” He chuckled. “You should be thanking me,”

“And why’s that?” She asked warily.

“I just gave you what you’ve always wanted,” They could hear the evil smirk in his voice.

“...Excuse me?”

“Your little papi there?”

“How can you see--?” Both Olivia's and Rafael's eyes darted around his office, focusing on the huge window behind his desk.

“I have my ways, Livvie,” He chuckled darkly. “You know that,”

“Can we back up here?” Rafael chimed in. “What the fuck are you talking about, Lewis?”

“Rafael, he’s just--” Olivia tried to dismiss it.

“Ohhhh, he doesn’t know, does he Olivia?” Lewis asked in an amused tone.

“....Know what?” Rafael raised an eyebrow at Olivia.

“Well,” He chuckled even more sinisterly. “Let’s just say counselor, when I ‘allegedly’ tortured your little lady there,”

“Don’t,” Olivia warned.

“....It wasn’t some relative she was crying out for,” His words dripped with evil amusement as he revealed Olivia's dark secrets.

“...What?” Rafael now looked at Olivia with shock and awe. How had he never seen this?

“Rafael, he’s just saying things to get to you,” Olivia tried brushing him off, but the guilty look on her face was giving her away.

“Oh really? Am I? Tell me you’re not elated that I’ve just cleared the way for you right now, detective. Say that with a straight face while you look into papi’s eyes,”

“You’re sick,” Olivia sneered.

“That wasn’t a denial, Oliva,” Lewis pointed out.

“Oliva, come on--” Rafael said in frustration. How could this be spinning into such a soap opera shit show?

“So maybe you should listen to my wife, counselor,” His evil voice taunted them.

“Maybe you both need to be with your monsters, let nature take its course,” He licked his lips on the other end, eating up the pain he was causing.

“Because if you don’t, I promise you won’t like the results,”

“Lewis I swear to God--” Rafael growled.

“ Now if you’ll excuse me, I do believe the missus is on her way home to me right now. And I wanna give her a hell of a welcome home,” He chuckled one more time before the line went dead.

“Son of a--” Rafael threw his phone across the room angrily.

“Rafa,” Olivia said softly, nervous about the conversation they just had.

“Liv,” He put a hand up. “You need to leave,”

“What did I do?!” She put her hands on her hips.

“Nothing, I--” He sighed. “I just can’t look at you right now,”

“...Fine,” Olivia nodded, not wanting to push the issue right now.

She quietly walked out of the office, leaving Rafael alone. As soon as she was gone, he ran over to his desk and sat in his chair, breaking down into sobs.

What the hell was he going to do now?

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