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#i was looking this up because i wanted to make Amy this cause my inner's are telling me if im gonna make-
noeggets · 6 months
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i was looking up animals in the hedgehog family cause hedgehog's are not rats/rodents they are erinaceidae's and the only other erinaceidae i could see included in the family is a moonrat which looks like this
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it looks like a mix between a hedgehog and possum, it looks like a hedgehog but with long legs,snoot and tail. Hedgehog but no spikes version
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silverynight · 1 year
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Comfort omega
<---Previous
Chapter 11
It hurts. He misses Katsuki and it hurts.
But Izuku has caused him too much problems already so maybe that's for the best. He doesn't even want to think about what the blond alpha told him because it makes his heart beat faster and his inner omega purr.
Love. Katsuki said he's in love with him... Is... How does he feel about that?
Izuku shakes his head, realizing he's feeling cold. He misses Katsuki's hoodie, but he misses him the most and it's not even been a week since he said goodbye to him.
The omega goes to work as usual, Aoyama tries to get him to talk about what's making him feel sad, but Izuku is not ready to say it out loud.
It must've been enough time for Katsuki to reconsider, to realize that it's not actually love what he feels for Izuku.
But he sounded so sincere...
***
The next day he gets an email while he's the break room with Aoyama.
"Hatsume wants to see me!" He can't help but blurt out excitedly. "Tomorrow! I have to get ready... I'm going to ask for a day off... And my designs–"
"Take a deep breath first, mon ami," Aoyama chuckles, placing a gentle but firm hand on the other omega's shoulder. "It'll be okay."
"How do you know? This is probably the only chance I'll have to get the job and I don't want to screw it up!"
"You won't."
"How are you so sure?" Izuku asks again, trying not to panic. He has the sudden urge to call Katsuki and tell him about it, but that won't be fair. The alpha told him to look for him when he was sure about his feelings... But what if he doesn't want to see him now?
The omega shakes his head. Now it's not the time to think about that.
"Because your designs are THAT good. She'd be an idiot not to hire you on the spot."
"You only said that because you're–"
"No," Aoyama cuts him off, staring at him in the eyes; there's no doubt in his expression. "I'm saying it because you're freaking great. You'll get the job."
Izuku feels his lips curl up into a smile, before he leans to pull the other omega into his arms.
"Thanks, you're a great friend."
"I know."
Then, he starts to notice that his heart doesn't exactly behave the same way when he's with Aoyama than when he's with Katsuki.
He feels the blush spread from his cheeks to his neck, but he tries to ignore it.
"Thinking about your explosive alpha, huh?"
Probably giving Aoyama the response he needs, Izuku's face turns even more red at that.
"You should talk to him, mon ami."
"I don't think he wants to see me at the moment... I told him... He wasn't that happy about certain things I told him."
"Then apologize. Tell him how you truly feel."
How does he truly feel? He doesn't want to ruin everything again.
"I want to see him, but what if he doesn't want to talk to me anymore?" Izuku doesn't want to cry again, but it hurts whenever he remembers the last time he saw Katsuki.
"I don't think that's the case."
"You can't be su–"
"He asks me about you every single day," the other omega cuts him off, sighing. "He wants to know how you're doing, if you're safe, if you're happy... Honestly, that alpha is ridiculous... But you are ridiculous too, mon ami."
Izuku's heart starts beating happily inside his chest. He wants to ask his friend for details, but he knows he shouldn't.
It's not fair.
He needs to try again.
"I'm going to talk to him after my interview," he mumbles, even though he's really nervous about it.
"That's the spirit! Good luck, mon ami!"
Izuku is not sure if Aoyama is wishing him luck for the job interview or his conversation with Katsuki...
Probably both.
***
He decides to print some of his work, but most of it is on his tablet so he also takes it with him.
The beta at the front desk is very nice to him and is constantly offering him snacks and water while Izuku waits.
"Good luck!" She says, grinning at him. "I really hope you stay with us so I can see you everyday."
"Thanks," the omega smiles back. People here seem to be really friendly, it helps him feel a little bit more relaxed.
"Stop flirting with him, Kana," a young man with an iPad walks into reception and rolls his eyes at the receptionist before telling Izuku to follow him.
"Don't worry about the smoke," the alpha tells him, making a dismissive gesture when Izuku notices the smoke coming from the end of the hallway.
By the time they walk in the smoke is gone, but Hatsume is still hunching over a large piece of broken gear that looks like–
"Is that for pro hero Ingenium's suit?" Izuku asks excitedly because he can't stop himself.
"You do know your stuff!" Hatsume says, nodding approvingly before taking her goggles off and staring at the green haired omega. "Great! Grab a couple of tools and help me with this!"
"But–"
"Come on, don't be shy!"
Leaving his stuff on a desk, Izuku approaches Hatsume, feeling nervous already. To calm himself down (and ignoring the part of himself that's scolding him for it) he thinks about Katsuki.
This is not the time to feel insecure about his own abilities. This is what he really wants to do for a living after all.
It turns out to be easier than he thought, mostly because Hatsume is there next to him, telling him everything about the type of modifications she's working on.
However, she's very interested when Izuku makes suggestions, especially when it comes to help increase the pro hero's speed.
The omega ends up looking like a mess; his shirt is covered in grease and he's pretty sure he has dirt on his cheeks but it's okay, he's excited about getting the opportunity to work on a hero suit.
"Nice," Hatsume says approvingly, looking down at the gear. "I think it's done now. I'll probably work on the other one tomorrow. Thanks for the help..."
"Midoriya Izuku," the omega mumbles nervously, making her grin.
"Hatsume Mei, it's a pleasure! Now let's grab a chair so you can show me your designs."
Shyly, Izuku hands her the couple he printed and after giving them a glance, she grins from ear to ear.
"These are great. Show me more."
So Hatsume ends up with Izuku's tablet on her lap, happily scrolling through his gallery and making a few comments about each of them. She interprets the omega's drawings with an accuracy that has Izuku really impressed.
"Oh. This is for Dynamight's suit, right?"
Izuku nods as his cheeks turn slightly pink. He's really proud of that design, but for some reason seems a little bit personal to him (even though it shouldn't be) so he decided not to print it.
"He'll love it," Hatsume says, looking really sure about it. "No wonder he said all those things about you."
"What? What did he say?" Izuku asks, curious and nervous at the same time.
"He told me a lot of things about you, but basically... He was the one who let me know you were interested in this job (I didn't know you had applied before, my receptionist and assistant are the ones in charge of the job applications) and he also said that I'd be an idiot not to hire you–"
"Oh my God!" Izuku blurts out, covering his face with both hands, blushing bright red. He really loves Katsuki but he can be really rude to people sometimes...
Wait... He really loves Katsuki? Where did that thought come from?
"Relax," Hatsume chuckles. "It's not the first time I've dealt with him. I don't mind... Well, after that he proceeded to tell me in detail why you were perfect for this job and he was right."
"Wait... Does that mean..."
"You can start tomorrow."
Izuku's lips quirk up into a huge grin, his heart is beating excitedly inside his chest and a tiny part of him thinks that this could be just a dream.
"Thank you!"
He can't wait to tell Katsuki... Although, it'd probably be better to talk to him about other things first...
He just hopes the alpha still wants to see him after everything that happened.
***
The omega readjusts his backpack as soon as he's outside the building. With a soft smile on his face he heads back to his apartment, but then he hears a couple of people screaming nearby.
When he turns around he notices that a few of them have started running and looking at the sky.
Izuku doesn't actually have the time to do anything because someone grabs him by the waist and lifts him up.
"I'm really sorry, pretty omega," the woman who's carrying him in her arms smirks. She has two pairs of wings that look like they're made of metal. "But I need a distraction so that stupid pro hero stops following me."
They're getting really high up on the sky and it's really too late now to try to fight her. That would only get him killed.
"Here he comes," she laughs in a way that makes Izuku shiver. "Make sure to scream really loud, omega."
She's going to drop him.
"What? Wait..."
"Izuku?" Katsuki is already approaching them, using his quirk to catch up with her. The determination on his face turns into panic when he recognizes him.
"He knows you? Lucky me..." She grins, before letting go of Izuku.
He's too scared to actually hear the way Katsuki screams his name.
And he falls...
***
Next--->
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tobiasdrake · 2 years
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First eight episodes of Sonic Prime dropped. Spoilers to follow.
Of all the variants introduced in this show, Rusty Rose is my favorite. Flipping typically heroic or villainous characters to the other side of the spectrum is one of the most fun things you can do with parallel realities. Also I'm like 90% sure she's supposed to be a shout-out to Archie Sonic continuity and their "roboticization"?
I don't know. Robot Amy is scary and cool, and I really like her as a nemesis. The Chaos Council kinda needs the help, as they're conceptually interesting but altogether don't make for nearly as threatening or dangerous villains as the show clearly wants them to be. They're kinda bland, but as the show's Darth Vader archetype, Rusty more than makes up for it.
She's just so cool and steals every scene she's in. Which is an impressive feat when she's playing against Sonic the Hedgehog.
Nine is a close second for similar reasons. Tails is morally ambiguous in this reality, and in a way that you could reasonably believe based on his character and backstory.
Obviously, Nine is undergoing a character arc and he'll surely land on the side of angels by the end. Honestly, I'm sure Rusty will find her inner Amy-ness too by the final credits. But it's a fun ride getting there.
Rebel Rouge and Knux also exist but they aren't quite as interesting, because they're more or less just Rouge and Knuckles being Rouge and Knuckles.
No, I'd say the best version of Knuckles are their Pirate variants. The whole Pirate reality was just a fun ride from start to finish. Knux being a self-serving scoundrel looking for a jewel to steal is quite a departure from his role as Guardian of the Master Emerald. I don't think he'd get along with himself very well.
As for Rouge, she's kind of hard to pin down. I'd say she has in a pretty well-balanced depiction in all three 'verses that we're shown, but none of them really stand out or shine compared to the others. She's the most consistent between 'verses. A solid B across the board.
What strikes me as particularly interesting is the Shattering's effects on Sonic, Shadow, and Eggman.
Sonic does not exist in any reality because him punching the Prism is what made the Shatterverse in the first place.
Shadow does not exist in any reality because him activating Chaos Control at the moment the Prism shattered caused him to become dislodged from reality entirely, preventing him from even entering them the way Sonic can.
But what strikes me as fascinating is Eggman. Eggman was split into the Chaos Council, who are clearly just Eggman at five different stages of his life cycle. But that's it. This is the one and only variant (set) of Eggman. The Jungle and Pirate realities have no Eggman to speak of. He exists only in New Yolk City, where he's been divided into multiple people.
Sonic, Shadow, and Eggman all have unique interactions with the Shattering, as opposed to Tails, Amy, Knuckles, and Rouge (and others like Big the Cat) who were just printed into every reality. We know the reasons for Sonic and Shadow. But what could have caused this unique interaction for Eggman?
Very curious.
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criticalpraisefilm · 22 days
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Inside Out 2 - first impressions
I am not a "good" film critic. I don't say this to disparage my own writing or opinions or convince you not to read this, I thrive on attention. I say it because I am not great at analysing what makes movies "good" or "art" or any buzzword you can use. I focus on whether or not a movie is entertaining, because that's what I look for.
This is in no way the metric for a "good" movie or even an entertaining movie, but this movie is extremely relatable. So many times while watching this I found myself muttering "ugh, mood" to myself. I kinda wish it had done more than that, though
Inside Out 2 once again follows Riley Andersen (Kensington Tallman) as puberty hits and she tries to navigate that while at a hockey camp, trying to both maintain friendships and start new ones while impressing her peers. The movie is told, however, from the perspective of her personified emotions: Joy (Amy Poehler); Sadness (Phyllis Smith); Disgust (Liza Lapira); Fear (Tony Hale) and Anger (Lewis Black) return from the first movie. This one introduces four new emotion characters: Envy (Ayo Edebiri); Embarrassment (Paul Walter Hauser); Ennui (Adèle Exarchopoulos); and Anxiety (Maya Hawke).
The throughline of Riley's character arc at the hockey camp, wanting to impress her peers while staying close to her friends being interfered with by her new anxiety leading her to act differently is quite low stakes, which can be seen as a criticism but isn't really. Low stakes conflict works much better than high stakes conflict in a movie that is about the internal conflict of a character taken to such a literal degree as to show the character's emotions arguing with each other. Because the inner and outer plots (to be somewhat reductive about it) feed into each other, with the emotions dictating Riley's feelings and reactions, and Riley's actions and choices causing imaginative and visually interesting changes within her mindscape, especially as Riley's newfound priorities cause Anxiety to take over her life and radically alter her sense of self, which the original five emotions have to navigate in order to prevent Riley from causing damage to her personal relationships.
Unfortunately, this is where the movie falls down a little for me. I don't want to spend too long comparing this movie to the first, but both movies have a main plot about one emotion trying to be the one that dictates Riley's life because they see themselves as the most important and having the best intentions but causing problems, and the others having to help them work through that and accept that other emotions are important.
Thing is, the first movie managed to play this in a relatively nuanced way, catapulting Joy and Sadness out of control and leaving the others unable to function properly, with them all learning a lesson. This one shoves the original five emotions away for a while, leaving the new ones in control, and unfortunately three of the four new emotions spend most of the movie doing absolutely nothing while Anxiety takes the helm. Which is extremely relatable, and I will fully admit that the surprisingly intense scene in which Riley has a panic attack due to Anxiety's zeal is extremely effective and made me tear up. Anxiety disorders suck and panic attacks are awful, and this was an extremely effective representation. However.
It also leaves behind the interpersonal conflict and manages to fall into a problem that the first movie deftly avoided: Anxiety is now presented as a straight up antagonist, if not entirely a villain, meaning the conflict is now entirely focused on stopping them rather than having a meaningful discussion about the importance of letting oneself feel. The movie tries to backpedal this in the ending with Anxiety stepping back and realising that she doesn't need to control Riley's life and that everyone else is important (with Joy learning the same thing, the exact same lesson from the first movie), but it feels extremely hollow after an entire movie of showing us how Anxiety literally destroys one's sense of self and causes nothing but problems.
It also means that, for as interesting as any of the other new emotions could be, they really do nothing but make jokes. Anxiety's whole deal is trying to avoid Riley suffering in social standing and avoid embarrassment. Anxiety and Embarrassment (the characters, not the concepts, but they are characterised concepts and oh this is confusing) barely interact onscreen. Anxiety never tries to shoe Embarrassment away or banish him away from the control centre or any of it. They're just there. And that's disappointing.
I don't want to call it a bad movie. Here's the thing, I can sit here and find plenty of reasons to criticise it, retreading ground, new characters not being interesting or having anything to do, muddled themes about importance of emotions and how that's presented, but I can't claim that I wasn't entertained and invested. It's still worth a watch I think.
Having said that, given that the movie is about puberty and navigating that, I am disappointed that there was little-to-no acknowledgement of attraction or interest in others. I'm not sure Pixar could get away with making Horniness a character, and there's a few indications that it's there, but it's not really acknowledged much. Unless Riley is aroace, which would also be interesting to explore and portray, but I get the impression that going there would also be a step too far for the Disney Corporation.
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lilithsrecord · 3 years
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𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖟𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖑
part 2
♱ 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨��𝐫 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞
outward appearance means nothing if your are unable to carry yourself with grace and confidence. it’s important to radiate an aura that is unique to u and is beautiful and enchanting to others. find your essence. are u an ethereal innocent angel or a bombshell femme fatale? Just by channeling in a sort of character in your demeanour can drastically change how other people view you. you might be wondering “hey this is a bit much just for school,” and ur right but it’s all fun at the end of the day
𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬
𝔣𝔢𝔪𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔢:
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femme fatale: noun
an attractive and seductive woman, especially one who is likely to cause distress or disaster to a man who becomes involved with her.
"a femme fatale who plays one man off against another in pursuit of money"
a femme fatale is a women who shows power through how well she can toy with a mans brain. in hindsight she might seem like a women catered to the male gaze due to the strong enchantment she has upon men, but do not be fooled. a femme fatale is a strong willed and powerful women who only caters to her own needs. she achieves her goals by seducing her pawns to use them to her own advantage. channeling in the characteristics of a femme fatale can make one feel powerful, sexy, and oh so alluring. to become a femme fatale you must ooze with seduction. femme fatale examples include gilda, from the movie “gilda”, jane smith from ���mr. and mrs. smith, and amy dunne from “gone girl”.
feel powerful when you walk from one place to another. let other people stare at you while they feel intrigued by ur allure but never completely give them what they want.
make your appearance look bold and striking. be sexy. dress to show off what other people want for themselves. wear dark and luxurious colours. let your hair be free and voluptuous. a bold lip and sharp eye makeup brings attention to the most seductive parts of your face. a femme fatale is nothing without a striking appearance
have your voice sound like smooth whiskey. speak slow to captivate others. make sure your voice comes out prominent and clear. add a slight rasp into your voice. each word u speak should be carefully chosen. people should be addicted to hearing you speak. be sassy and smart but always with class.
smell expensive. pick a scent that exudes class. examples: black orchid by tom ford. mugler alien. good girl by carolina herrera.
a femme fatale makes sure to always get her way. don’t be afraid to use ur seductive quality’s to get what u want whether that is good grades or social status. [ however do not put urself in dangerous positions. please don’t sleep with a teacher lmao ]
𝔠𝔬𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢
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coquette: noun
a woman who flirts.
in my own definition a coquette to me is a girl who is delicate and radiates innocence. she is more commonly known as the girl next door or the pretty girl. people become attracted to this essence due to the childish ways of a coquette. though that sounds concerning, a coquette isn’t a women who tries to act like a child on purpose. she is just a women who is naturally sweet and innocent. they hold onto a childlike quality that the rest of us have lost and so desperately crave. the allure of the coquette is ultimately her adorableness. her demeanour is light hearted and youthful. no one feels the need to do her wrong because she is just too cute for any harm. she is an ingenue. examples of coquettes are lizzy grant, cat valentine from “victorious”, alice cullen from “twilight”, and marilyn monroe.
wear clothes that make u look cute. the coquette aesthetic has been around for quite a while. the main aspect of a coquette outfit is its innocently teasing nature. wear bright colours that compliment ur skin like a blush pink, bright reds, and pretty lilacs. make people around u appreciate ur innocent look but know that there imagination is running wild. the makeup for these looks are more natural and rely on the condition of ur actual skin. take good care of ur skin. have a set routine but remember that it’s completely okay if u have pimples! you can still be a pretty little coquette even with acne.
vanilla or any kind of sweet scents are a staple for the coquette essence. ariana grandes perfumes are perfect for making people mouths water for a sweet snack when u walk by. olympea by paco rabanne is my personal favourite.
be kind and sweet to people who deserve it. people need to see u as a sweet and innocent doll who can do no wrong. but don’t be afraid to be risky and be the complete opposite of that once in a while. the rare moments where u show ur femme fatale side will have people incredibly intrigued by you.
perfect your voice. your voice should sound pleasant like some sort of princess. make your voice sound higher but not ear screeching high. add a beautiful mix of air and softness to ur voice. a breathy voice is incredibly intoxicating and suits the coquette.
𝔭ê𝔩𝔢-𝔪ê𝔩𝔢
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pêle-mêle: adverb
in a confused, rushed, or disorderly manner.
also known as the manic pixie dream girl, a pêle-mêle is the essence of a girl who is described as whimsical, eccentric and is quite literal the life of the party. though at first glance she’s all rainbows and sun shine, the shadow side of the pêle-mêle can be described as a tortured artist. her optimism is delightful. she is not afraid to take risks. she’s a mess but people can not help to be intrigued by her free spirited ways for she is a drug to people who crave adventure. examples of a pêle-mêle include ramona flowers from scott pilgrim vs the world, mia wallace from pulp fiction, harley quinn from the DC comics, and holly golighty from breakfast at tiffany’s.
don’t be afraid to take risks. risks and adventure is what the pêle-mêle lives off of. be brave. do things you are afraid to do. start small and work your way up like from riding that roller coaster your so afraid of to having a motorcycle race with your friends (trust me those are so fun!). show people just how daring you can be and immediately people will be magnetized to you.
wear clothes that are unique and you feel comfortable with. the pêle-mêle rejects conformity and the way you appear should reflect that. wear clothes that harmonize with your crazy personality. be daring and bold with your makeup. make sure you stand out from the crowd and that you do not care what people think. the alternative style perfectly suits someone who embodies this essence.
be confident. obviously this rule applies to all the essences but confidence and self love is at the core of the pêle-mêle. you need to show people that you do not care what they think of you and that at the end of the day, you are just here for a good time. the more you practice self love, the easier it will be for you to express yourself without the fear of judgement from others.
be a socialite. don’t be afraid to speak your mind to people. pêle-mêle’s are usually people persons. they love good company that they can go on adventures with. make friends by being your true self and don’t hold yourself back. even a few mishaps by saying the wrong thing from time to time can make people fall in love with your clumsy nature.
obviously there are plenty of other essences you can achieve for yourself but these are my top three favourites. to find out who exactly who you want to become try the few tips listed below!
how to find your personal essence
what kind of people captivate you? what type of personalities do you see that you wish you could be? do you find yourself being envious of the pretty girl next door, the man eater, or the mysterious persona? figure out what kind of a person do u wish to truly become and inherit their manner. find out the characteristic of ur desired essence to the littlest of detail. this can include from the way you walk, talk, eat, sleep, look, smell ext. think of this as becoming your ideal best self. take the female archetype quiz to get a better understanding of your self.
what kind of aesthetic catches your eye? do you enjoy the glamorous high fashion life or do you like the softer cherry coke and heart shaped sunglasses niche? maybe you enjoy completely different things or a blend of a few. live up to this aesthetic. do this by expressing this aesthetic in the way you dress to how u decorate your room.
what kind of environment do you feel the most comfortable in? are you someone who loves education and school? or do you love the idea of being free and living in an RV for the rest of your life? maybe you just want to live in a cozy high rise new york apartment or a huge mansion up in beverly hills. envision where you see your ideal self in 10-20 years. your ideal environment can reveal a lot about what kind of lifestyle choices you want to make.
you might be thinking to yourself hey these aren’t the best tips for school. and at an educational standpoint you’re right. but it’s important to embody your best ideal self to truly enjoy this lifetime. these are little things that can be used to motivate you. i believe that inner self work should be prioritized over your school work though both are important. make sure you are taking some time out of your week to find out more about yourself and who you want to become. be the best you.
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vhenanshiral · 3 years
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On the Topic of Seiya Kou.
This is a Sailor Moon post rather than a Dragon Age post. Shocker, I know, but Sailor Moon is another one of my loves. This will focus on the 90s anime adaptation of the manga. So do not come at me with “but in the manga,” because the 90s adaptation and the manga were incredibly different in multiple ways. Seiya will be referred to as she/her because the male form was a disguise. That being said, any interpretation of Seiya’s gender is valid and I love them all! Anyway. I see a lot of shit talking about Seiya and it’s honestly ... super tiring. So many of the “negative” points against Seiya are misinterpreted, misunderstood, and misrepresented for the sake of making her look like a dumpster fire. 1. “Seiya is creepy towards Usagi and stalks her.” Except ... she doesn’t. They meet by accident numerous times, and in fact Usagi even seeks Seiya out. They develop a friendship, and it’s normal and natural for friends to seek each other out. Usagi and the girls actually, literally stalk the Three Lights more than once during the season. 2. “Seiya thinks Usagi is weak because she told Mamoru to take care of her when they left.” This honestly makes no sense to me. It is repeatedly shown that Seiya admires Usagi’s strength, both as Usagi and as Sailor Moon. It is natural to want the people you love to be protected, and that does not mean that you think they’re weak and incapable of protecting themselves. Seiya knew Usagi was capable and strong because she had seen her demonstrate these traits multiple times. Throughout the season, Seiya repeatedly lifts Usagi up with her confidence in her capabilities. This is even before she knows she is Sailor Moon. Let’s not forget that when Galaxia kills all of the Inners, they ask the Starlights to protect Sailor Moon, so saying that Seiya telling Mamoru to take care of her means she thinks she is weak ... that must mean everyone else thinks she is too, right? It’s absurd. 3. “Seiya can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, always hits on her, and is constantly pressuring her into a relationship.” It is true that Seiya repeatedly quips about “having a chance” with Usagi. It’s also true that Usagi repeatedly reminds Seiya that she has a boyfriend. But it isn’t true that Seiya repeatedly attempts to coerce her into a relationship. It also isn’t true that she does it all the time. While she shouldn’t have done it even more than once (when she was unaware of Usagi’s relationship status,) it’s obvious from the context that she isn’t being serious. Seiya repeatedly making quips is an issue, and while those kinds of situations can and often do mean someone is being a “Nice Guy,” a predator, an abuser, etc., we know from everything that we see that it is not the case with Seiya. Let’s take the “date,” for an example: Seiya throws it out there (literally, just time and place and walks off) and Usagi willingly shows up the next day and is even irritated that Seiya is late. Usagi is not forced or coerced into the date; she retains all of the power regarding whether or not she shows up. She would not have gone if she didn’t want to. Actually, let’s look at these instances of Seiya hitting/making a move on Usagi. - In the “date” episode, Usagi thinks that Seiya is going to make a move on her. Some suggest that Usagi thinks she is going to kiss her, but the language, Usagi’s expressions, and her reaction to the truth seem to imply that she thinks Seiya is suggesting something more intimate. - In the episode with the beach monster when Chibi Chibi opens up the door and pushes Seiya over on to Usagi, Usagi is the one who, again, assumes Seiya is up to No Good, despite it being a complete accident and innocent on Seiya’s part. - In the episode where Seiya spends the night at Usagi’s because she’s alone and Seiya very nearly confesses who she is to Usagi while they’re in her bedroom, it is Usagi who believes that Seiya is going to confess to having a crush on her. - Later in that same episode, when they are hiding in the cabinet and Seiya again thinks about confessing her true identity to her, it is Usagi who thinks Seiya is about to suggest something intimate. In fact, throughout the season, it is everyone from Usagi, to the other girls, to single-episode characters, to even Luna who think that Seiya is going to suggest or attempt illicit activities with Usagi, and not Seiya. It is all but explicitly stated that Usagi is attracted to Seiya. Not just because of the implications of her assumptions, but also because she is scolded over it. In fact, Rei tells her that she needs to sort her feelings out. Haruka and Michiru forbid her from seeing Seiya because she has Mamoru. She may not love Seiya the same way, but she is attracted to her and she does love her (and Usagi being attracted to other people is not a new thing.) Let’s look at the softball episode, because it’s ... pretty problematic and people often point to it as being one of the episodes that paint Seiya as some creepy stalker who can’t just take a hint and tells everyone that Usagi is her girlfriend. It is Rei who thinks that Seiya training Usagi in softball is inappropriate (let’s remember that it is Ami who thinks that something illicit is going on with Seiya and Usagi in the bodyguard episode...) because Mamoru is Usagi’s boyfriend, not Seiya. It is Sonoko who insists that Seiya’s “relationship” with Usagi isn’t acceptable, and it is her that places the bet that if Seiya’s team loses, she’s not to associate with Usagi anymore. Seiya agrees because she’s competitive, hates to lose, has confidence in herself and Usagi, and knows that Sonoko is wrong. When Usagi tries to interject about the actual nature of their relationship (that they’re not dating,) it’s the girls who shush her because they’re expecting Seiya’s team to lose and that will give them the opportunity to make Seiya feel better. I want to touch on the “Seiya knows Sonoko is wrong” part. I think what a lot of people don’t think about is that when Sonoko placed this bet and openly stated her disapproval of Seiya spending time with Usagi, Sonoko was attacking Usagi’s worth as a person. She was openly saying that Usagi wasn’t good enough to be hanging out with Seiya in any capacity. Seiya took issue with this because she obviously believes and knows differently. She values Usagi as a person. Who is Sonoko to decide who is and isn’t good enough to spend time with her? Seiya is not approaching the situation with entirely selfish motives, unlike the girls who fed into the Seiya/Usagi romance for the hopeful eventuality of them being able to comfort Seiya after a loss when she’ll be forced to stop hanging out with Usagi. She uses this situation to help bolster Usagi’s confidence in herself. That doesn’t change the fact that the bet is stupid to begin with, but it is what it is. Oh, additionally ... Seiya doesn’t tell the school that she and Usagi are dating. Them dating is an assumption that Seiya simply doesn’t correct. It’s worth noting that if she did correct that assumption, it would feed into Sonoko’s declaration that Usagi isn’t good enough to be with Seiya. 4. “Seiya tried to make the rooftop scene about herself and used it as a way to try to take Mamoru’s place in Usagi’s life.” This whole entire scene is consistently misinterpreted and has all of the context ripped from it, because that is not what that scene is. No, it 100% was not the best time for Seiya to ask that question (and no, it is not “can I take his place?” that she says,) but people tend to forget that Usagi is not the only vulnerable person in this scene and it isn’t just about her. It is Seiya who triggers Usagi’s emotional breakdown on accident, and in these moments she is watching the person she loves crumble into pieces. The rooftop scene is about both of them and the context makes that clear. Up until this point, the only person who knew that Mamoru wasn’t keeping in contact with Usagi was Seiya. None of the girls knew, none of them. Imagine the amount of trust Usagi had to have in Seiya in order to share that incredibly sensitive information with her and with no one else, not even her closest friends. Usagi had told Seiya a whole 13 episodes before this one, and since finding out Seiya tried her best to make Usagi happy and to keep her mind busy. It isn’t until a few episodes after this that everyone including Seiya finds out that Mamoru is dead. So Seiya spends all of this time believing that Mamoru ditched Usagi when he moved overseas and that he’s a horrible boyfriend who obviously doesn’t care about Usagi. This is naturally hurtful to Seiya, who grows to genuinely like and love Usagi through the season. She cares for her and doesn’t want to see her in pain, which is why she does her best to help Usagi feel less alone. There is no point in the season where Seiya’s intentions are to maliciously shove herself into Mamoru’s place in Usagi’s life. She has no idea who Tuxedo Mask is. She had no idea that throwing the red rose - her own personal trademark - was going to trigger such an emotional response from Usagi. So here they both are on this rooftop in the middle of the pouring rain. Usagi’s breaking down over how alone she feels, and Seiya’s suddenly faced with the realization that not only did she cause this breakdown, everything she had been trying to do to help her wasn’t working and she failed again. She couldn’t save her system/planets, 99.9% of her people are literally dead because she wasn’t strong enough to save them, and she and the other two members of her team had no idea where their princess was or even if she was okay until the episode before this one. Immediately after the destruction of everything they knew, the Starlights had to flee to an alien planet with alien people, disguise themselves, and pander to a bunch of complete strangers that salivated over, stalked, and harassed them, all while searching for their princess  and fighting the minions of the person who ctrl+a ctrl+x’ed their home system. She had no time to process any of the unimaginable loss and failure she had suffered through. When people talk about the rooftop scene and about how Seiya “makes it about herself,” this is everything they’re forgetting. When Seiya is asking Usagi if she isn’t good enough, it isn’t Seiya trying to weasel her way in, it’s Seiya both coping with her own numerous losses and trying to remind Usagi that she’s there for her. In the end, Seiya is the one that Usagi credits with being able to get herself through everything she was dealing with.
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muffindaddystyles · 4 years
Text
𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊.
Summary: Where you got a panic attack while attending a lecture at University and Harry's out of reach.
Warning: Angst, ah! yes no worries you'll get fluff in the end.
P.S: 𝐖𝐞'𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐲'𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲.
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Snuggled into cosy sheets, sweater paws wrapped around a cuppa, the strands of your dark hair tickling the nape of your neck and a sheepish smile of yours crawled against the rim happy while you scrolled through your Instagram feed seeing a short video of Harry singing Landslide on karaoke with his best pal at their get-together.
You and Harry were bestfriends, you met him at a vintage shop in basement where they sell old vintage tees. Despite of knowing who he was you fought with him cheekily over a same 'Pink Floyd's.' T-shirt at that time you guys decided to share it, he'd come to take it from you after every three days a week.
Two years of bestfriendship from you taking him to local south asian and chinese restaurants, to dragging him to yearly fair demanding him to win a bunny for you, to going on a competition for free pizzas only ending up loosing because you were litreally about to go sick, dancing like a maniac at the low price arcade at your university's backstreet, to him dragging you to his friends get-togethers which are quite fun they are super chill but your anxiousness is a little bitch she pops out of nowhere but Harry doesn't mind at all.
Now you're here. Being his lover for an year. He confessed his love for you when he was high on shrooms and you laughed it off tucking him to sleep at his place because he always used to say he 'loves you.' but that was in friends typa way until at the Christmas time while you were having fun for real at Jeff's house with Harry crowded by his mates that one of the Jeff's friends approached you and Oh dear lord' from even so far Harry's sight was dagger to a prey and was hot on his heels, if he would have been a cartoon character red smoke could have seen through his ears.
"Pet?" His brows kinked together as he squeezed you to a corner and he pulled at his bottom lip when your attention was on that guy waving you good-bye, "what Harry?" You asked him nonchalantly peering him through your down gaze.
It was enough to pinch his nerves and Amy one of his girl friend smirked watching the scenario when he was taking both of you to rooftop. With folded forearms you smiled with a certain mischief at the clear jealousy of him ripping through his every action, "jus' wanna protect ye', kiddo." He paced back to you sighing with a painful clench in his chest. He wanted to spill out but why the hell it was so difficult.
"Huh?" Your eyes widened like a deer under the moonlight at his obvious incoherence and he hissed pulling at his roots so you retorted calmly, "relax he was just a guy graduated in the same degree as me." You wanted him to confess his feeling out to you, at many occasions you guys joked about marrying eachother if you both fail to find your perfect partner. Like when you got all sentimental seeing Jeff's first baby at the hospital, getting a baby fever wanting one bubba right that time and Harry joked if any consequences he would help you put a baby in you and trust me nobody in the room laughed, they had deadpaned faces, they all know you guys have crossed the borderline but are playing blind.
His friends have inner jokes for you and Harry, their famous four bets on when Harry will ask you out, his first love confession to you, him proposing you and what your first born would be. Half of them lost more money than they could have imagined in a group of seven, Amy was smirking with full heart because she was praying maybe this time she'll win the bet.
"He looked like he drank 'is arse off." You rolled your eyes at his anxious quip wrapping your cardigan closer to your chest muttering under your breath and Harry's head snapped from your feet to your face, he knew it was ending point of his act "Harry he was completely sober."
He still remained firm at his ground pouting as his curled fingers brushed your elbows to bring you closer, "...but he's still a guy, ye' know.." You wanted to laugh at his face at his silly comment but instead arched your brow sternly.
"So. You aren't?" His heart-shaped lips bubbled around his words but you cut him off, "because if I remember last time you had a dick in between your legs." At this he strewned his lip inside not to chuckle how cute dirty words sounds coming out of your lips.
You frowned feeling cold when he pulled back from you turning his back to you to take a deep breath and his eyes were darker than before from frustration when he turned to face you.
"'Kay fuck. I love you, that's it. happy? I love you and don't wanna loose ye' to anyone!" You knew it coming but not like a bullet so it hit you like one freezing your breath into cold dense air, "you do?" You were at loss of words padding towards him for reassurance as if you're his little girl.
When you were inches away from him He noded without any hesitation saturating even that distance, "yes. I do. Since we've met, since you've invaded all of mind and heart." He wrapped you in his warm conforting arms humming when he snoggled his cheek against your hair.
You playfully scowled at him, "well didn't do that on purpose." Your naughtiness of that moment vanished into air when he asked you sincerely breath tasting you, "can I kiss ye' sweet girl?" Your single nod and his lips were on yours into a deep open mouthed passionate kiss, like how lovers kiss.
His cold finger-tips brushed the under shell of your earlobes earning a shuddering moan and you slipped your hands into the front pockets of his trousers.
Your own icy hands causing him to buck his hips into yours and the sensual touch made you both a whimpering mess. Tongues caressing, lips swiping, teeth nibbling and noses brushing as you kissed until your lips froze to mist.
"Cold?" You admired his after tenderness, lips magenta from heavy makeout session and he twirled a loose errand of your hair around his shiny jewl clad finger kissing your forehead and taking your hands in his bringing them closer to his lips to blow out his warmth to them.
But, there was another pair of eyes watching you astonished and somewhat gasping in awement. Amy, she came to call you guys. Then she rushed back downstairs doing a little prance and all of the people watched her in confusion.
"Ten, ten bucks each. C'mon bitches Harry said I love you to y/n!" Everyone squealed happily at her enthusiastic announcement only groaning at the end when she made a grabby hand, "I won. Now gimme my money."
Even though they all knew they acted like nothing happened respecting your guys descion of whenever you'd like to share your relationship to them, both you and Harry couldn't hold longer.
Your affection it's not new you've been affectionate to eachother since the very start, but this one have meaning and feelings, deep sensations. Hand grazes, knee touches, teasing glances, innocent bantering as if you could rip each others clothes right infront of them, closeness and quite fuck visits in their washrooms were getting obvious day by day and you ended up telling them getting showered in blessings in return.
Right now, with a shake of your head you went past through your boyfriend's antics going through Instagram stories. Your brows furrowed together in curiosity when you came through a post that had a large 'sensite content.' written on it.
This's what happens when curiously takes best of you. You end up doing things you regret time after and this's what happened to you.
"My god!" You clamped your palm over your mouth, eyes widening in horror and nerves crippling in fear. The gor video full of cruelness and blood infront of you making your body shudder.
𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡! 𝐷𝑎𝑚𝑚𝑖𝑡 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡! 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑦/𝑛!!!!
Your mind screamed at you to just move past it but your eyes remained numbed to same video and your heart's weeping for the poor women in the video but you're rigid in your sheets with the cup of tea shaking with the shudder of your fear.
Then the consciousness hit you like a train and you snapped out of it quickly shutting your phone throwing it carelessly on the sheets, putting the porcelain cup with a shivering hand onto nightstand.
You shrinked into your sheets trying to calm your breaths. Bolting shut your eyes you shrugged and shook your head many times to get rid of the same image circling in your mind like a demon trying to haunt you.
You stopped breathing without realizing arm over your forehead as you stared the ceiling, lip sucked into your mouth and talking to yourself you tried to concentrate on something else.
You're feeling it coming. It's collecting in the form of bile in your throat and when you were talking with yourself. Your stupid obnoxious brain played your voice ten times faster and it echoed inside your own fleshy bones like a broken record in the barren house of devil.
You're hating it. You inhaled an audible gasp of loud horrific breath shoting up from your sleeping position throwing your duvet to ground ready to run away, you're trying to run away from yourself from your bloody damn thoughts.
You want Harry. He knows about your anxiety and panic attacks. You had your fair amount of panic attacks in his presence, but he always managed to bring you back to him. He used to make you practice breathing patterns and techniques on how to escape from your own subspace.
The first time you got it infront of him was when everyone protested that you should stay for sometime more but it was already two in the morning and you had an exam in the next morning it was just for him that you went along, but you were kinda angry on your own self for taking risks for just a friendship. Then it came into a black pitch waves of suffocation in his car while he was driving you back home, he was unaware of your condition and practically cried when he couldn't bring you back to him.
That night he slept in your bed for the first time. He wanted to stay closer to you in any case, you were sad that you made him worried for no-reason but he shushed you with infinite forehead kisses, he whisper yelled at you full of concern if he might be suffocating you but you giggled a "no." kissing his cheeks getting cosy in his embrace eyes drooping to sleep. He used to sing lullaby to you when you were having it bad particular nights.
Now, he wasn't here and you thought of calling him many times but decided against it only being your own helper. Taking a deep breath, you sang his lullaby to yourself, not letting tears to fall and reminisced all of the lovely memories of you together. Your kisses. Your laughs. Your cuddles. Your lovemaking. Your cooking failures together.
With all of these memories you were back in your bed closing your eyes only hearing Harry's soft affectionate rasps in your ears.
.
In the morning you have long forgotten that even the video existed. You were surprisingly fresh walking to your university's building in long strides, greeting everyone and anyone.
Harry just woke up from his lazy slumber. Making an orange juice for himself, his head heavy and he's in no mood to look at his phone. Grabbing his journal and putting on his rings, a special copper one that you gifted him on his ring finger smiling at it like a foolish fucker and pecking it shyly remembering you.
"Heyyy. H!" When he entered studio everyone greeted him joyfully and he hugged them all handing breakfast to each one of them he bought after standing in a queue for half an hour, "how's y/n?" Sarah asked chewing her bagel sitting behind the drums and the seed of distress sprouted in his stomach that he hasn't asked his bubby if she slept good lastnight? What she had in breakfast? If her day's going well.
There's this certain instinction that's making him restless but he can't quite put a finger on it.
"She's good. Gets a lill cranky if I win form 'er at the '10 phase' uno game." He chuckled with a hint of love under his tone his previous thoughts of checking onto you again slipping from his mind.
Plugging his phone to charger he rushed back to his favourite spot quickly taking his journal and pencil to scribble something.
It's your English lecture. The day went well. But now it's not. You're zoning out knowing how boring the lecture sounds.
You stared the way you drew your pencil into unstopping circles at the corner of page and your head was a dark vacant space when the way you acted last night flashed in your mind then the reason behind it, that damn video.
The video displaying like a reel in your mind again as if you're there experiencing it with your body. You twitched, and closing your eyes you snapped your head to side several times when the cold sweat broke at the back of your neck and shudder ran down your spine.
When you snapped for the tenth time in row a hand came squeezing yours, "you okay?" You slowly looked up at the guy sitting beside you as the professor's voice billowed further from you.
You just stared him numbly, tears making your sight blurry. Your breath hitching in your lungs and you can feel it clawing at you like a demon. To avoid getting made fun of yourself you stood up leaving your things and rushed for the door, when a hand came wrapping around your wrist in a tight grip.
"Where are you going miss? This's not acceptable." Your karen professor's voice sliced through your ears and your lungs are tightening with each passing second, everything spinning around you and all you're thinking's if you'd make it alive through this dark box of suffocation.
"S-sorry...I-I have to go—" You tried to stutter in between your broken breaths and she scowled burning her grip into your wrist. Your cheeks numb as you didn't feel tears slipping down to the valley of your breasts, "tell me the reason and I'll let you." Your head fell back at that and you bolted your eyes shut as tight as possible. Then when you tried to inhale you couldn't and everyone around hooed loudly watching you in shock as you tried to escape her with weak crying attempts.
"Let me go!" You shrieked. With wide eyes she let you and you fell to ground painfully hard. It was coming. You sobbed out harshly but it went silent at the end and you bunched your shirt atop your heart when your vision went pitch black, whole body shaking and you forgot even if the oxygen existed.
It's consuming you. Everything around you moving in slow motion. Their shouts for you like a sleepy mumble and it's just Harry's lullaby melodic in the pocket of your heart but it's cold and deserted with nothing but claustrophobia shoving you brutally into darkness where nobody could hear you crying.
You act like a lioness ready to kill anybody while you're having a panic attack and when some hand came to help you. You screamed and growled swatting them away "Don't fuckin' touch me!—" even though your ears are buzzing and you gasped loudly to get some air but it's not helping. God help me, please. You prayed.
Your classmate went through your emergency phone numbers finding Harry's at the top and it ringed sitting in the other room from him.
Then he dialed another one. It was studio's landline, Harry has filled that number without your knowledge and well it helped.
"Harry?" The drums came to halt, the guitar was stopped mid shrivel and Harry's high note fell to ground when the receptionist came with a cordless phone.
"A phone for you from y/n university—" It was enough to smack his breath away and he scurried to his feet taking the phone hastily from her hold, controlling his voice to not yell at the person in his own anxiousness.
He tucked it beneath his ear taking the car keys and his phone out of instinct because when it's you he's always on alarm. What he heard from other side made his knees jello and ribs to knock in two, "fuck. Yeh. 'M comin' jus' yeah, make her breath gently....." He tried to instruct your classmate.
He cursed himself. Not giving two fucks if he broke every speed limit. His knuckles going white and he repeated a mantra of "breath baby. m' sweet sweet girl jus' breath." but he was just saying this to himself because you wasn't in his arms and he wasn't calming you, he's blaming all this on himself.
He didn't even parked his car. Striding inside the lobby and asking for you. After fifteen minutes of no breathing as you were about to hit the deep end you inhaled loudly filling your lungs with proper oxygen causing your eyes to go bloodshot and everyone sighed in relief.
Your classmate took you to University's healthcare room so someone guided Harry there. You had your knees tucked close to your chest, head resting on them to block any light as you whimpered with innocent small hiccups.
Your heart beat racing. Head hurting and chest aching from the after effect.
Harry had to get support of door's frame when his eyes fell over you. Over his Angel that was shrinked pitifully like she's scared of world crying on her own.
The sheets of stretcher rustled under his weight as he slowly and gently wrapped his arms around her, "baby..." He cooed on the verge of tears and she didn't had to look up to know he's here, his scent was enough to relax her mind.
Her parted lips moist over the crook of his neck as she sobbed into him. He tenderly rocked her, running his hand soothingly at her back, kissing her head and her nose wiping her tears "'m so sorry, my baby. my life. 'M so sorry."
You fisted his shirt, face smashed into his chest to avoid the world while embracing your own world, your Harry as he walked both of you to his car carrying your stuff too with him. He helped you sit inside the car rounding to the driver seat and he leaned to kiss your forehead, glossy eyelids and a peck to your lips never letting his concern divert from you as he drove home.
He made you comfortable into your bed, wrapping his forearms around your tummy and soothing your arms down to tranquil your heartbeats.
He knows it's hard for you to talk so he didn't tried to get words out of you. He just wants to be there for you, physically, spiritually, mentally. He's all yours.
After long hour you spoke voice barely above a whisper, "t-they all are gonna think 'm weird." Harry felt something jabbing his sides at her statement and he cradled her chin intensely looking her in eyes.
"No angel. I promise you they wouldn't. See how your classmate called me the very moment you weren't responding? They all genuinely cared for yer', y/n" He stroked the apple of her cheeks and she sighed waveringly new tears glistening at her eyelids.
"Thought I wasn't gonna see you ever again." Her words hit him like death and at that moment he realized they're more than just best friends, just lovers, they are soulmates and Harry would be devastated without her.
His music. His fashion. His cheekiness. His softness. His humbleness will all be gone because he's so dependent on her for everything.
She frowned lightly when Harry hugged her close to his heart, his cheek stuffed into the crook of her neck and when his wet lips rumbled with a sob she pulled him back from shoulders cupping his cheeks.
"Harry? Hey, bambi eyed. Baby look at me." You sniffled wiping your every tear and he refused to look at you sobbing hoarsely, squeezing you to feel you for his dear life.
"Don't say somethin' like that. I wouldn't be able to live without ye'." He muttered silent tears soaking her neck collecting at the dip of her collarbones. She played with his curls smooching his cheeks cooing at him, "'m here baby. in your arms. 'm fine, we're fine." She gave him an eskimo kiss when he finally pulled back. Eyes fluttering as she took a deep breath feeling her lungs nutritioning after so long.
"Did you forgot your promise of making me your babies momma or I've to make you remember?" She tried to light up the mood and he just chuckled kissing her lips, when he stood up she pouted making grabby hands at him.
"Hold me?" She asked innocently. Harry ducked down brushing her hair and kissing her head, "gonna run a bath for us sweet angel."
Interlacing your fingers he guided you to your bathroom. Rose candle's flame flickered a shadow onto mauve tiles as the water had pink waves, the scent is so him and it calmed your nerves down.
He undressed you with soft movements, planting a kiss to your shoulder when you were complete naked infront of him. Settling inside the porcelain tub he took your hand helping you inside, making you sit in between his legs.
Your back to his chest. Head resting on his shoulder and his breath fanning your cheeks. It's nothing sexual. Just you two relaxing your nerves.
He coiled his hands over your tummy, running his thumb in careless patterns near your belly button as the water droplets dropped from his curl atop your breasts.
Exhaustion taking over you. Your eyes drooping and you've no idea when he took you out changing you into his clothes and into bed slipping under covers with you.
"'M always gonna be there for ye', whatever it will take my soul to." His whispers caused your lips to curl in a smile and you hummed snuggling your face into his arm scooping you to him.
.
A/N: I know it's very excruciating for people going through this difficulty, we don't have Harry physically in our lives but he has helped us alot. I feel you and I believe you. It's okay after every hardship there's a moment of happiness personally created for you. All the love!
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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years
Note
i randomly remembered when enzo broke his arm around a year ago, i know it sounds mean but could you possibly do one of mac/maya doing the same (nothing major to cause it)
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"It's okay." Amy hears herself repeat the phrase for probably the hundredth time now. "It's okay." It's probably supposed to calm them all down, all three adults and one little crying, screaming boy in the car, but it's barely working.
"It's not!" Jake hisses into her direction, the fear and panic and worry in his eyes more than obvious as he clutches Mac's head against his shoulder some more, tightens the grip around his back.
"It's gonna be, though." Rosa says from the driver's seat in front - she was clearly the calmest of all of them after what happened, so she'd grabbed Amy's purse, pulled their car keys out of it, and then pushed all three of them into the backseat before starting the car. And now she was making her way to the emergency wing of the hospital at about 15mp/h higher than allowed in the inner city. "The arm's broken, but not in a bad way. It's gonna heal."
"How can a bone break in a good way?" Asks the man who once stated that as long as his blood was still inside him, things were obviously good. Mac starts wailing a little louder in his arms.
"You're stressing him out." Rosa states, matter-of-fact, before slowing down just a little before a right turn so the kid in Jake's arms doesn't get jostled too much.
"It hurt." Mac sniffles and looks over at Amy with the reddest, most tear-filled eyes she's ever seen, and it takes a lot not to cry with him.
"It's gonna be okay, peanut. The doctors like uncle Jorge are going to fix it." She tries to calm him, and maybe Jake a little bit, who nods and scratches through Mac's hair like he does when he's trying to lull him into sleep.
-*-
They make it to the emergency room in record time, frankly, and if Rosa's rushed past some traffic lights and speed radars, Amy's not going to complain once the tickets come in the mail.
A bored-looking nurse informs them that there’s only enough space for one parent in the room during the x-ray and the cast and treatment, and Jake wants to debate for the first time in his life, because that’s obviously bullshit, but Amy puts a hand on his arm and then lifts Mac out of them.
“Sit with Rosa”, she says in that voice she’s started using after Mac, that mom-voice that’s always right, “Calm down, and we’ll be back before you know it. And it’s all going to be fine.”
She’s off with the crying toddler and nurse before Jake can really protest, and Rosa is already sitting in a corner of the waiting area, so he drops down next to her instead and buries his head in his hands.
“Dude, you’re blowing this out of proportion. Kids hurt themselves all the time. He’s gonna bounce back like always.”
“I broke his arm, Rosa.”
There’s a beat of silence between them as the weight of that statement settles. Rosa gives up her nonchalant pose to lean forward as well, trying to get into Jake’s field of vision, but it’s kinda hard when he’s staring down onto the floor.
“You did not.” She hisses. “Jake, you didn’t. He fell. He was climbing. It happens.”
“I helped him up on that tower, he’s too little for it-”
“It’s on the playground, he was gonna go for it eventually-”
“I was right next to him-”
“So were Amy and I-”
“You were talking-”
“So at least you were paying better attention-”
“I coulda grabbed him, I shoulda-”
“You did what you could, immediately and without question. It’s not your fault the kid drops faster than a cannonball.” Rosa ends their little squabble, and the old lady across them lets out a little harrumph, but Rosa shoots her the deadliest glare she can muster, which means a lot. “You were over there in a flash, Jake, I’ve never seen you move so fast.”
“Wasn’t fast enough. Wasn’t good enough.” He mumbles into his hands, rubbing across his face and his hair that’s already a mess. Rosa watches him for a moment, and calculates. Pieces together the evidence, like she does as a detective, and comes to a solution that most people probably won’t like, but those usually get her results.
“Do you want to leave?” She asks, and he looks at her like she’s grown a second head. “Amy’s got it under control, she told you. It’s probably gonna take a while, anyway, we can dip out for a drink to calm down and come back and they’ll be none the wiser.”
“Are you insane?!” Jake hisses back now, giving her exactly the reaction she’d expected. “I’m not going to leave my son in the hospital to go to a bar-”
He stops and stares at her, and it seems like his own detective brain is finally catching up with his panicked dad brain, because he sees what she’s doing. So she nods.
“You’re still good. You’re still better.” She says, and they don’t need to mention who he’s better than. It was the first of his stories that he told her, after he hurt something in his wrist at the academy - how that wrist never really healed right anyway, not since he was 5 and Bobby Linder drove over it with his tricycle by accident and his mom had to rush him to the hospital and his dad asked ‘what is that?’ with beer on his breath when he showed him the cast later. They’d known each other for barely a month back then, and Rosa was still refusing to think of anyone as her friend, but the way he’d looked at his wrist in its bandage and smiled the most broken smile she’d ever seen had set something off in her head. Something that yelled Protect at her every time he mentioned his dad later, something that made her threaten Roger Peralta with one of her knives after their graduation when Jake was in the bathroom ‘real quick’, but she knew he was hiding in there so no one could see his hands shake. Good thing Rosa never gave a damn about going into the men’s toilets anyway, because she sure as hell went after him when Roger had dipped out as usual.
She watches Jake’s tense shoulders drop with another sigh.
“Being better doesn’t make me good. That bar is set so fucking low.”
“I’m not having this entire discussion with you again, Peralta. We’ve been through this way too many times anyway. You. are. a. good. dad. One accident doesn’t change that.”
“Okay.” He nods, and she can tell he’s trying to imprint her words into his brain, so she continues.
“Mac’s going to hurt himself, and others are going to hurt him, and things are gonna go bad sometimes. You’ll probably be back here in the hospital a few times, considering how much he seems to love danger. And it’s going to be okay, just like Amy said, because you’re going to be there, and you’ll help him through it, and take care of him while he heals.”
“Yeah.” He nods again, and Rosa leans closer to him some more, and finally gets into his field of vision.
“And you’re not going to even think, for one second, that you could be anywhere as bad of a father as that piece of shit. And you’re not going to believe, whatever anyone says, that Mac doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you as a dad.”
He nods a third time, and she remembers how he jokingly told her once, after a few drinks, that the little screaming voice of conscience in his head always alternates between either Amy’s voice or her voice. She hopes she’s given him some new tracks to replay if he needs to.
“Thank you, Rosa.” He says, and leans back in the most uncomfortable chair either of them have sat in, and they’ve both been to prison. He tilts over when she leans back too, lands his head on her shoulder, and she doesn’t shrug him off for once. She can have a soft spot for the Santiago-Peraltas when no one else is there to see, she supposes.
“You looked like you wanted to punch out that nurse.” She says with a quick grin, and hears him snort.
“Was thinking about it. Not enough space for two parents, what kind of bullshit is that?!”
“You couldn’t throw a proper punch anyway.”
“Hey, I know how to hit people. I trained to do it just as much as you.”
They share a giggle as the exhaustion and stress of the last hour flows out of them, and the old lady across them seems mildly shocked rather than annoyed by now, but who cares.
-*-
Amy comes back with Mac in her arms an hour later, and they’re both all smiles. Mac sports an impressive new sticker collection on his shirt, and a lollipop that’s painting his lips orange. (Amy’s have a slight tint to them as well.)
The cast on his arm is bright green, and he carefully lifts it to show Jake as he switches from his Mama’s arms into his. (Jake had jumped up from his chair so fast he almost threw Rosa, who was also getting up, to the ground.)
“Like ninja!” he says around the lollipop, and Amy wipes a bit of spit away before it can drop on Jake’s shirt.
“Yeah, just like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, buddy.” Jake nods because of course he understands his kid’s train of thought better than anyone else, and kisses Mac’s temple, stays there a second longer for that perfect toddler scent, even as it’s mixed with hospital disinfectant and playground mud.
“Look, RoRo!” Mac yells into his ear and leans over to show Rosa as well. “Turtle shell!”
“That’s pretty cool, dude.” Aunt RoRo answers as she inspects the cast to see if it’s well done or if she has to go back there and punch out a nurse herself. “Let’s get you three home.” She says after concluding that the cast is acceptable enough to let the poor hospital workers alone.
-*-
She was planning to drop them off, park their car and then head for the precinct where her bike is waiting for her, but Amy invited her up for some coffee for ‘her nerves’, and Jake offered dinner as a thanks, and Mac absolutely needed to show her the new toy he got in that package from abuela, and then suddenly she’s on a playmat on the floor for an hour after Chinese takeout and pretending to be a Ninja Tortoise or whatever. That soft spot is gonna be more trouble than it’s worth, she thinks for a second before Mac smiles at her as his Jedi figure shoots lasers at her turtle doll, and immediately realises it’s worth so much more than any trouble. Mac looks at his cast a little worried, whenever he thinks no one is watching him, and god, could he be any more like his dad? At least she and Amy already have a good instructions booklet on how to handle him, in that case.
“That green cast is pretty cool.” She says when she catches him look once more. “But you know what would make it even cooler? Drawings.”
“Drawies? On my arm?”
“Yeah, buddy. We can draw on it with a sharpie.”
He’s up and running to Amy, asking for a sharpie, in no time at all and yep, he is just as easily distracted as his dad. Mac grins wide and unworried now as he climbs on Jake’s lap on the couch, asks Amy to draw something when she returns with a set of markers, calls Rosa over to draw something too.
Amy does a little bear, his favourite animal at the moment. Rosa does a rocket ship and a pirate ship, the two best ships in the world, as they both agree. Jake does a Ninja Turtle cartoon face yelling PIZZA!, which is obviously Mac’s absolute favourite the moment it’s done.
When Jake wants to cap the Sharpie after his work of art, Mac grabs his hand and pulls it back down. “Steady, peanut. Don’t wanna scribble over Aunt RoRo’s cool ship, right?” He says with a grin over to her as she rolls her eyes. Mac’s already tried to cover several walls, most of his storytime books, and the kitchen table with his drawings as soon as he’s handed any sort of writing tool, so Jake won’t let go of the marker just to be safe, but he does let Mac’s little hand guide his big one as he makes him draw a wonky heart, right on the cast over the back of his hand, and then places a kiss on the same place on Jake’s hand.
You’re not going to believe, whatever anyone says, that Mac doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you as a dad the little Rosa voice in Jake’s head repeats as he smiles at her, and she actually smiles back.
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samanthadalton · 4 years
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When it rains, it pours
Okay this is my first attempt (and maybe last pending reactions) to a fic that is heavily smut, at the request (more like force but okay) of @kamilah-the-bloodqueen I’m delivering this fic, hope y’all enjoy. also this is based around the time amy is newly turned 
pairing: Kamilah x Amy 
NSFW, so reader discretion 
taglist: @kamilah-the-bloodqueen (of course) @cloud9in @alleycat97 @alexlabhont @thedaft1 @mrs-avamontjoy @justavampirefan @waterinathermostat @bloodkueen @dimis-yiddies @thepotatobleh (i added people from my usual Kamilah fic list, if you dont wanna be tagged in the NSFW stuff just let me know) 
word count: 1.3k 
The pregnant drops of rain infiltrate the streets of New York as Amy stands on the balcony, relishing in the feel of the beads of rain as it hits her skin. 
“I can feel you watching me,” she speaks out, her eyes still trained on the city as the rain starts pouring a little heavier. 
Kamilah smiles, “your skills are improving. Now come inside you’re soaking.” 
“Not yet, I like how the rain feels,” Amy cranes her neck up, and sighs in pleasure as the rain hits her skin a little harder. Kamilah walks up to the doorway of the balcony, careful not to pass the entrance so she can stay in the sanctuary of her bedroom and not let the rain touch her. “You should come out here, it’s nice.” 
Kamilah raises her eyebrows, “and mess up my hair? I don’t think so.” 
“Your loss,” Amy deeply inhales as the rain begins to hammer onto the floor of the balcony and the glass windows. Amy’s practically drenched in the rain, her hair and clothes sticking to her skin. Kamilah stays watching Amy for a few moments, before stepping out onto the balcony, the rain drenching her within seconds. Her arms wrap around Amy from behind as she rests her chin on her shoulder, momentarily enjoying the intense rainfall. 
Kamilah lifts her head, her lips barely grazing against Amy’s ear as she whispers, “I’m cold, why don’t we go warm up?” 
Amy smiles, “and what did you have in mind?” 
Kamilah spins Amy around in her arms, her hands moving to the younger vampire’s hip as she easily hoists her up, a amourous glint in her eyes. “How about a hot shower?” Amy wraps her legs around Kamilah for support, as her arms hang loosely around Kamilah’s neck as the older vampire guides them to the bathroom. Kamilah sets Amy down and begins ravenously kissing the young vampire, desire building as the kiss drags on. Once their clothes are pooled around the bathroom floor, Kamilah pulls Amy into the shower, letting the hot water wash all over them, a stark contrast to the cold rain that was pelting their bodies not too long ago. 
Kamilah pulls Amy in for another frenzy of kisses, as the hot water pours all over them, steaming up the glass of the shower. Overwhelmed by her level of desire and a lack of control over her new vampire instincts, Amy begins domineering the kiss, pushing Kamilah against the glass, as she hungrily kisses her, placing a line of wet kisses from her jaw to her chest. The young vampire takes her time as her fingers begin playing with the peak of Kamilah’s breasts, as her tongue trails along her neck, then her jaw before nibbling on her earlobe. Kamilah wasn’t usually so submissive, but given Amy being a new vampire, she thought she would let the girl have some fun before she takes over. While maintaining eye contact, Amy begins kissing down Kamilah’s body and for a split second Amy’s eyes flash red with desire until she's on her knees. Her tongue moves languidly around Kamilah’s inner thigh, eliciting a soft moan from the older vampire which only arouses Amy further. The younger Vampire digs her nails slightly into the older vampire’s thighs, as she places her tongue against Kamilah’s clit and begins lightly flicking her tongue, desperate to tease Kamilah for a little while. Kamilah bucks her hips slightly as Amy begins sucking at her button, and can’t help but gasp in pleasure as Amy places a finger in Kamilah’s entrance, slowly dragging it in and out. 
“Beg,” Amy commands, as she moves her finger at an even slower tantalising pace. An amused smile flickers on Kamilah’s lips, as she remains silent, which only frustrates the young vampire. Amy slides her finger out and makes a show of placing it in her mouth, sucking on it, she takes it out with a satisfying pop, before whispering demandingly, “beg.” 
“Please..” Kamilah whimpers, suddenly overcome with lust as she looks down at Amy who’s enticingly licking her lips. 
“I know you can do better than that,” Amy places her tongue firmly against Kamilah causing the older vampire to cry out. 
“Please!” 
Satisfied, Amy begins licking and lapping at Kamilah’s sensitive spot as she brings two fingers, and begins fingering Kamilah into oblivion. She feels Kamilah’s entrance tightening against her fingers, indicating she’s close, and Amy thrusts more intensely, feeling every wave and motion Kamilah is going through thanks to her new vampire abilities. Even after she comes, Amy continues moving her fingers against Kamilah, letting her ride out her orgasm for as long as she can. Unable to hold herself back anymore, Kamilah grips her hand around Amy’s neck, gripping it tightly as she slowly jerks her upwards, causing the girl to get off her knees and onto her feet. With her hand still around Amy’s neck, she brings her other hand to grip Amy’s wrist, as her eyes bore into Amy’s and without missing a beat, she places the two fingers that are wet with evidence of her own desire into her mouth, tasting her own juices. Amy momentarily stunned, stands watching as Kamilah seductively sucks on her fingers until she removes her hand and begins kissing her with everything in her. 
“My turn,” Kamilah whispers as she switches their positions placing Amy against the wall. She releases her hold around her neck and moves towards the shower head, which is still showering intensely hot water. She reduces the pressure and cools the water slightly, bringing it to a mild temperature. Amy watches with curiosity as Kamilah detaches the shower head and moves to stand in front of the girl. “Do you trust me?” 
“Always,” Amy replies, her eyes glistening with admiration. 
Kamilah brings the shower head and begins washing the water along Amy’s breasts, evoking goosebumps. Amy gasps as the water hits her, and she hums in pleasure as Kamilah directs the showerhead lower. Once the water hits her sensitive spot, she involuntarily bucks her hips forward, hoping to catch more friction. One of Kamilah’s hands trails down Amy’s hips and begins stroking her side as the water continues hitting Amy just in the right spot. Amy can feel her insides trembling with desire as she heavily pants and begs Kamilah for more, not caring about how desperate she sounds. Kamilah smirks as she gives Amy exactly what she wants, her fingers begin teasing her entrance, before plunging them in and out, ready to make her come over and over again. As her moans get deeper and louder, it sets Kamilah alight as her eyes burn red, she throws the shower head to the side and begins passionately kissing Amy while her fingers continue moving against her. Just as she feels Amy is about to come, she slows her movements, bringing her to the edge and then slowly backing down again, wanting to drag out Amy’s pleasure. 
“Please Kamilah.” 
“Mmm, beg more,” Kamilah quickens her pace before slowing down again, evoking a whine from the younger vampire. 
“Please, please please,” Amy pleads as if her life depends on it, and Kamilah gives in, she moves quicker against her, not stopping even after she orgasms. She goes onto her knees and begins eagerly lapping at Amy’s juices as it slides down her inner thigh. Kamilah feels her entire body shuddering with desire but continues fingering her and it isn’t until Amy collapses from exhaustion after her body trembles with a mixture of desire, lust and excitement that Kamilah lovingly cleans her up before carrying her into the bed. 
“That was really good, like wow I don’t think I’ll ever get used to sex as a vampire.” 
“Good, because we’re not finished.”
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sophiakoch · 3 years
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Rehab, a personal life turned into a hit
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/TW depression, alcohol, drugs\
Many successful musicians are haunted by their own personal demons of drink and drugs, and Winehouse is no exception, and this autobiographical song "Rehab" remains one of Amy Winehouse's most universal songs today, and arguably one of her most personal.
They tried to make me go to Rehab
But I said no, no, no
The lyrics on which the chorus of "Rehab" opens leave little doubt as to what the song is about, or how personal it is. They evoke Amy Winehouse's years of struggle against her inner demons and addictions, which would eventually take her life at only 27 years old in July 2011.
Rehab' also has its roots in Amy Winehouse's meeting with the influential producer Mark Ronson, who co-produced 'Back to Black'. A few days after the singer's death, Mark Ronson looked back on the day that led to the birth of "Rehab”: “We were in New York and had been working together for almost a week. We went into a shop, because she wanted to buy a present for her boyfriend. She started to tell me about the complicated time she was going through... She was really bad, so her father came by to talk to her and cheer her up. And she said, "He wanted to send me to rehab, and I said, 'Pff, no no no.' "And it immediately went 'ding ding ding ding ding' in my head. I knew I should ask him how it was going, but all I could think of was telling him to go back to the studio."
These words tell a true story. Amy's former management saw that she was on the road to self-destruction because of her addiction to alcohol and drugs. But Amy had no intention of following her management's advice. She sought advice from the people she loved, especially her father. However, her father did not see the devil Amy was dancing with. So she fired her manager, thinking it was another stunt to control her life and appearance for the music industry.
In the next line, Amy admits that she has been "black", which seems to admit that she has a problem. But... “And if my daddy thinks I'm fine”
In her song, she talks about not fitting into society's norms, not getting good grades at school. She also says that she prefers to stay at home and listen to music legends like Ray Charles and Donny Hathaway, sometimes on scene she changed the lyrics on “I’d rather be home with Blake”, referring to her husband who was the one who intruded her to hard drugs.
She believes that she numbs her pain with alcohol and drugs. So, this is only a temporary problem that she has until her tears have dried off, caused by other personal problems. She sings again that she is not going to waste 70 days in rehab and fool everyone to think that she was helped. It seems that, deep down, Amy believed that she did not have an addiction problem. But it was just an outcome of other problems that she was trying to suppress.
I'm not gonna spend ten weeks
And have everyone think I'm on the mend
She also says that she doesn't really want to drink, that's not how she likes alcohol... but she can't stop herself from getting into drugs and alcohol, she needs them to deal with all the problems that she had, such as depression, stress, messed up relationships…
I don't ever want to drink again
I just, ooh I just need a friend
Once in the studio she wrote the song in just 3 hours. Amy's words immediately caught his attention and inspired Mark Ronson to record this pure soul and R&B song with her, which remains a classic in her repertoire to this day and since then, the song has become a reference and a legacy for Amy Winehouse, who left too soon..
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letsperaltiago · 4 years
Text
supercut, i’ll be your favorite scene
Here it is: THE KITCHEN COUNTER FIC™️
Hope you guys like this pile of filth and feel free to share your 😌thoughts😌 in the tags or in my indbox/ask! I’d really love to hear them!! For context: takes place during Season 6, Episode 6: The Crime Scene!
Also do I need to make a disclaimer saying that I know Jake would never intentionally neglect Amy yada yada...? You know the drill.
Enjoy!
READ ON AO3 HERE (RATING E)
It had been going on for weeks now and by then it was safe to say that Amy was getting fed up with the situation. Ever since this mysterious, seemingly unsolvable case had started consuming Jake’s every thought, move and decision, Amy had felt somewhat neglected. Her husband was of course still, as always, sweet and caring but lately the case had completely overtaken his life and Jake spent more hours twisting and turning every clue than he spent being paying attention to Amy – or anything that wasn’t case files or clues, for that matter. It’s not that Amy needed attention, like some child screaming for affection, but she was worried for her husband’s health and, even if it felt silly to say, their intimate life.
Sure, they’d kiss good morning, goodbye and hello but especially the past few weeks Jake had more often than not fallen asleep atop of the case files at the dining table rather than in bed with her. Naturally Amy felt many things: impressed by her husband’s dedication and hard work but also worried and frustrated… in more than one way.
One night, another one of those spent alone in bed with Jake sitting at the dimly lit dining table, Amy was done being cool and reasonable; fact was that she missed her husband and she was shamelessly horny. It didn’t take long for her to make a decision: tonight, four drink-Amy, minus the drinks, was going to make an appearance.
“Hey, babe,” she spoke softly with a sweet, curious air, keeping her ulterior motives hidden, as she wandered into the living/dining-room in her pajamas and pink nightrobe. Her steps brought her up behind him and when he finally came within her reach, she made sure to slide her hands onto his shoulders with extra grace and tenderness, softly squeezing them to hopefully give him a taste of the tender touch he surely had a craving for though he currently was too stressed to act on “What are you doing?”
A beat of silence.
“Just working the case,” he mumbled tiredly sounding unaffected by her presence.
It was going to take more work than what she’d originally intended to put into it, but Amy was more than willing to put in the extra work; she did love a good challenge.
“I see that,” she added bending over to wrap her arms around his torso and rest her head on his shoulder as to get a closer look at his work… amongst other things. He was only wearing his flannel and boxers, perfect, she couldn’t help but think.
“You’re working so hard, babe,” she stated sweetly making sure it went straight into his ear. “Don’t you want to relax a bit?”
Her hands stroked his chest smoothly sliding over to play with the top buttons of his flannel, the same flannel he’d worn yesterday, she couldn’t help but notice. Alas this wasn’t the right moment to mention this.
“I can’t,” he flipped over a page to scribble down whatever information crossed his mind. “Not right now.”
“But that’s what you’ve been saying every day for the past few weeks now. Working yourself too hard won’t do you any good, you know… It can affect your way of thinking.”
A peck to his neck was basically Amy begging for his attention, for some kind of reaction to both her words and actions, but it never came.
“I’m fine, Amy. I just need to get this done.”
Scribbling and flipping of pages continued even so, as if she was air, and Amy, more than ever, was now growing awfully frustrated about the situation. Never before, at least while they’d been together, had Jake been blunt and cold towards her like this. Of course, she knew it wasn’t personal, and that it was all tied to the case and the promise he’d made to the victim’s mother, but still she couldn’t help but feel rejected. Rather than letting it get her down, it did the exact opposite and fueled her inner flame.
This problem was only not solved because it was demanding new, more bold, methods.  
“But…” she swiftly as ever popped open a few buttons of his flannel “… don’t you think you would be able to think clearer…” she slid a hand down his now revealed chest before continuing to lure him in with sultry words and notes “…if you just let me help you feel good for a bit.”
Gosh, his skin felt so soft and so good, even after all these years, and oh how she just wanted to bite into it, scratch it red and raw with her fingers till both their hearts exploded.
“Amy, please. I love you but I need to keep working on this.”
Ouch. Her hand froze just above his belly button before removing itself. At least he said something kinda nice, she thought referring to the I love you, but this wasn’t enough. I love you wouldn’t have her writhing and screaming till climax.
First attempt was a lost cause but luckily, in a twisted way, Amy was furious and desperate. Vanishing back to their bedroom without another word, boiling with both lust and frustration, the woman proceeded to plan B; and plan she hadn’t really planned but quickly came up with.  Said plan was hiding in a paper bag in the back of her closet and she’d actually planned on revealing it to him on Valentine’s day but enough was enough: now would have to be the right time.
Said plan started ten minutes later when she waltzed down the hall and back into the dining/living room wearing the same night robe as before. Only this time she was wearing something else underneath: something fiery red and shamelessly lacey.
“If you’re going to stay up all night drilling this…” Smooth, Amy. She planted a few candles on the table before him before lighting them, making sure to bend over just enough for the dip in her robe to reveal what was hiding underneath, “…then lets at least make it nice and cozy for you.”
“Thanks, babe, but no need to. Just go back to bed and I’ll join you there later.”
He didn’t look up, not as much as a quick glance and Amy could feel her blood beginning to simmer in her veins from wanting her husband’s attention and touch so badly. He couldn’t be serious? He couldn’t not notice how she was basically begging for him, could he?
With a firm grip, in one smooth motion, she pulled out the chair besides him and sat down before slowly untying the knot of her robe as her eyes watched him, attentive, hoping see his reaction when he saw the surprise she was presenting him.
Slowly, oh so slowly, she peeled apart the robe and let it slide off of her like ice cream melting on a sunny day. The fabric fell to the floor without a sound and there she sat, half-naked and more inviting than ever before in her life.
Not that she’d tried to be discreet before, but she was now so very obvious about her intention that he couldn’t possibly let it slide. And if she wasn’t obvious enough then the way the red silky fabric enhanced her skin’s warm undertones while the black, soft lace complimented the curves of her breasts and thighs certainly were. All things she’d considered upon picking out the set. The gleam from the candles danced in the reflection of the silky fabric and Amy Santiago was more than impossible to overlook.
“Why don’t you join me in bed… now?” She bit her lip smiling while her fingers played with a lock of her dark hair.
“Babe, I’m really trying to work here. Please.”
He almost sounded annoyed with her as he scrolled through his phone, looking for whatever could be more interesting than her.
Anti-climatic was not the word; this was way worse, Amy was sure of it.
How could he do this to her? There she sat, exposing herself, metaphorically and literally, and all he could think of was work! Maybe she should try to be reasonable, consider how he felt in his situation with this specific case, but enough was enough! She pushed herself out of the chair and stomped off to the kitchen. At first she didn’t know exactly why she headed to the kitchen… Perhaps she just wanted to get away from him but then again, she could’ve just gone to the bedroom. The doubt faded the minute she saw some unpacked groceries, more specific carrots, on the counter. Standing there in the kitchen in her very lingerie at 1 AM feeling like a sad, rejected porn star, she found her Plan C and felt that there was no other way. Amy Santiago did what she had to do: grabbed a bunch of carrots, picked out the tiniest, crummiest knife she could find, a cutting board and started chopping.
Noisily. Over and over again. Repetitive and loud.
“Ames, what are you doing?”
A reaction – good. She looked up, just barely, through her eyelashes only to be met by the sight of her husband still not caring enough to look at her properly.
“Felt like getting a snack, that’s all…”
She kept chopping, faster, harder and most importantly: louder. Carrot after carrot, way too many, but she figured they’d just eat it some other time. For now it was all about pestering him, getting on his nerves as he on hers. Ten seconds went by… Twenty… Thirty…
Chop. Chop. Chop.
“Amy-“
Another loud cut interrupted him. Amy didn’t even bother to cut into proper shapes or sizes. It was all about the sound.
Forty… Fifty…
“Amy, could you please stop!”
Finally.
She smiled to herself at the sound of his snarl, hearing the specific shade of Jake Peralta she’d waited for all night long. Her eyes were still glued to the carrots on the cutting board before her and, she knew, if she looked up, she’d see her husband stare right at her. God, she loved their open kitchen-dining room.
“Why don’t you come over here and make me?” She challenged hoping to make it the tipping point.
Then she looked up and as predicted, her husband was staring at her with a newly arrived squint and dark look in his eyes. It seemed as if his frustration had finally opened his eyes to what was really going on: his wife was in their kitchen almost completely naked, wearing only the skimpiest lingerie, and he’d been stupid enough to look past it. Their eyes met: his angry and storm full, hers playful and hungry, begging.
Right then and there a pin could’ve dropped to the ground and it would’ve made the ground shake and sound like an explosion. The tension was thicker than quicksand and it was only a matter of seconds, an unbearable staring contest, before the sound of Jake pushing back his chair cut through it like a knife.
He slowly walked, as if he was planning his every step, around the counter dividing the dining area and kitchen area, and Amy could feel herself beam with excitement at the muffled sound of his steps.
“What did you just say?” Jake’s voice was low, a few tones deeper than usual, something he only did when he was angry or during sexy timez.  “Think twice before answering me.”
His hands slowly slid onto her almost naked hips feeling the arousing sensation of the lace beneath his fingers. She was trapped between him and the counter before her, on purpose, she could tell and God, she loved him like this. After years of being together it was no secret to either of them that Amy, as much as she enjoyed being dominant and in charge, loved playing the play of the submissive one, the one getting told what to do. Something, if put in the right mindset, her husband handled very well. Key word: handled. Tonight, she needed to be handled. By him… With care? No, they were way beyond stage. Amy was buzzing with impatience. This needed to be properly balanced with the nature of the moment; a tempered Jake who would not put up with being told what to do. Not tonight.
“I didn’t say-“ her breath hitched interrupting herself when she felt him lean his body against her from behind, leaving no room behind him and her, and her and the counter, before letting his right hand slide along the top hem of her panties. “I didn’t say anything. I was just c-cutting-“
His index finger tugged on the elastic hem.
“Cutting carrots,” she breathed out nervousl and he picked up on it.  
“Is this cool? Safe word?” he quickly added.
“It’s perfect and ‘Manhattan’ as usual.”
“Okay good,” he pecked the shell of her ear as a sign of approval before picking up where they left off.
“Hmm,” he hummed removing his finger knowing it’d disappoint her. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.”
“Oh,” she whimpered in reaction to his words being breathed against her sensitive neck. While being distracted by his breathy taunts Amy had completely failed to notice the hand sliding down the right leg of her panty. Here, when down low enough, his index finger had crooked itself around the center section of the garment to pull it to the side and reveal her forlorn womanhood.
Tonight wasn’t going to be a long night of slow fucking, they both knew, but Amy was still surprised when she almost right away felt two fingers part her folds, automatically coaxing her into submission.
“I have barely touched you…” he spoke with a voice so soft and in no way is a match to the sinful activity happening further down her body, “…and you’re already this wet.”
No words, only sounds of strain and pleasure, were to come from Amy. Jake was in charge now and he would make the calls tonight. All she could do was wait and obey.
“You’ve been such an annoying little pest all night and I thought it was just because you were bored, when in reality- “
“Jake,” escaped her in the form of a breathy declaration, in a moment of weakness in reaction to his finger’s Godsent work, interrupting him and this usually wasn’t well received, not in a scene like the one they found themselves caught up in, but Jake was too pleased with the display of his effectiveness to reprimand her. Instead, he just smiled to himself and made sure to stroke the exact same spot over and over again feeling her get weak in her knees.
“When in reality you just, so desperately, need to be fucked.”
To prove his point, he leaned a bit more of his weight onto her forcing her midriff up against the counter. His fingers still had room to work thus moving with more and more ferocity.
“Am I right, Amy?”
Eyes closed, mouth agape and head bent back to rest against his shoulder, it was safe to say that Amy was in another world. Yes, she heard the loud rumbling that was the sound of his voice, but his fingers were louder than anything else happening at that moment. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had her trapped she would’ve been grinding for more, used her body to get a better feel of his touch. Alas she’d have to earn it some other way.
“Amy,” he scolded bringing her attention back to his demands. “Tell me. Am I right?”
His hand not stroking her heat slowly started playing with the upper edges of her panties, pushing them down her curves in the process.
“Y-yes,” came out in a voice so breathy that the word was barely audible, and Jake could only just hear it because he stood as close to her as he did.
“Thought so,” he bluntly approved her answer and removed his fingers from her heat to allow himself to push the panties down entirely, letting them to fall off of her and onto the cold kitchen floor. Amy could feel the bulge in his boxers pressed against her now bare ass and it killed her to not be able to grind against it, to feel it properly.
“So…” he used his now wet fingers, glistening with her juices, making sure to trail them across her skin, to slowly push her hair to the side and leave him room to kiss the back of her neck. “Now that you’ve so selfishly interrupted me and the important work I was doing, just because you just can’t behave and wait to get fucked…”
Amy’s voice hitched, loudly even, in reaction to his words. Dirty talk had definitely moved up a few spots on her favorites list when her and Jake got together; he was so good at it and it made her want to play along.  
“… there are two ways things can go now: either you pull yourself together like a good girl, let me get back to work and wait in bed…”
Amy did not like the sound of that. Nonetheless she bit her tongue and instead of fighting him she focused on the soft feeling of her husband’s breath dancing against her sensitive skin as his hands stroked her stomach, slowly inching themselves upwards towards her breasts.
“… or I give you what you need. Right here, right now.”
There was a moment of silence where Amy considered whether she should actually answer or let him make a choice for her. Did he want her to speak up or was it a trap?
“Tell me, Amy,” he scowled at the exact same moment as his hands reached her chest and latched themselves onto her still lace-clad breasts. “Tell me what you need. I’m not gonna ask again.”
“N-now, p-please” her stutters were weak, but they were there and she could only hope it was enough. They held so much desperation and honesty.
Meanwhile Jake feverously caressed her breasts, pinching her nipples through the thin, lacy material. Then, quickly running out of patience, he basically ripped the straps and cups down as to finally gain full access to this part of her he loved so much.
“Okay,” he pecked the back of her neck. “Can’t believe you’re so desperate that I get to fuck you right here on the counter.”
Jake definitely sounded smug, pleased with the situation, and Amy would’ve been be lying if she’d said she didn’t feel the same way… even though she couldn’t say it. They’d had sexcapades in the kitchen before but never like this and Amy was filled to the brim with excitement.
“God, I wanna see you on your knees with your lips stretched around me so bad but you’re just so ready for me, Ames… It’s too good to put off for much longer. Can you feel how ready I am for you?”
In case she hadn’t already noticed his hard on pressed against her bare ass Jake grinded into her and Amy very quicky came to hate his boxers even more, wishing she could just rip them off of him, and definitely let out a whimper at the needed touch. The full control he had over her was both everything she wanted and everything she dreaded; all she could do was hope that he’d fulfill her wishes for her.
Finally, as if a shooting had crossed the sky and heard her wishes, she felt one of his hands move away from her breast and relocate to push down the cursed material that kept her from being able to feel him properly. An outline trapped behind fabric was always promising but nothing could ever beat the feeling of Jake’s freed length.
“So ready…” he mumbled under his breath as he, impressively so, used one hand to fiddle open the clasp of her bra while the other was busy stroking his length. Given their current position there were things he had to take care of himself – many things, apparently. With both of his hands being busy paying attention to something that wasn’t her, Amy honestly wasn’t too pleased with the situation even though she knew it would pay off; she could already imagine, almost feel, the cool surface of their marbled countertop pressed against her torso causing goosebumps to rise across her entire body.
Thud. Finally, the strain around her chest disappeared as her bra joined the rest of their (limited) garments on the kitchen floor, soon to be forgotten by both Jake and Amy. Jake did still have his flannel on, barely hanging on by one closed button, but the parts of them that mattered were free and ready for tonight’s purpose.
She felt him take a tiny step back, away from her, and she was just about to let out a whine when suddenly her entire body quaked in response to his right hand giving her ass a firm squeeze before allowing it to run all the way up her spine, slowly and with great intentions in mind.
“Bend over.”
If only Amy could tell herself from ten years ago that she would end up marrying a man whose words could make her body and world tremble… The perfect two words, said so bluntly, demanding, had her convinced the second they fell from his lips.
She obeyed, with his hand on her back guiding her forwards, and soon she found herself looking out at their living/dining room from her new position: bent over their kitchen counter.
Jake’s hand continued its journey up her back, all the way up to her shoulder where he gave it a tiny affectionate squeeze before leaning down and pecking the back of her neck.
“Okay, babe?”
“Y-yes, perfect,” she whimpered, impatient, struggling to retain her recklessness.
“You look so good.”
The unequivocal sound of his palm patting her full ass cheek echoed in the kitchen. Even when trying to convey the need to ask for more into grabbing onto the counter, to a point where her knuckles turned white, holding back a whimper was out of her hands.
“Soon, babe. I just can’t get over how fucking good you look bent over like this...”
Another pat, a strike more appropriately so, to her other ass cheek let Amy know that he was definitely testing her patience and willingness to stay silent. He loved the frustration he knew she was battling with inside; mainly because he knew she’d never break because Amy Santiago’s desire to please and obey was stronger than the feeling of despair and need.
“… Bent over and desperate for me to touch you.”
Jake’s low, rumbling voice, the way an almost animalistic side of him shone through his words, was enough to keep Amy going. Although she did quickly take a preference upon feeling a sudden overwhelming burst of warmth and stimulus shoot through her when his fingers switched their attention from her ass to her folds, slowly running two fingers back and forth through them as to assemble as much moisture as possible.
Pleased with himself at the sound of a high-pitched and dragged out Oh there was no stopping him. Slowly torturing them both, mostly her, he kept working her open with his fingers as small moans and squeals dropped from her lips. His other hand kept a firm hold of her hip. Amy was off in another world, trembling at the feeling of his fingers finally doing to her what she’d been craving for for so long now. Her hands slowly turned sore from holding on so tightly to the counter under her, but she didn’t care. Everything felt so good and she’d die if it were to stop if she disobeyed or accidentally disregarded Jake’s wishes and plans.
All of the sudden, ready to whine at the loss of his fingers but quickly interrupted, Amy felt a strong hold of her hips from both of his hands and then, even better, herself being stretched around her husband’s cock. To hell with the consequences, Amy let out the loudest “quiet” moan she dared. The sensation washing over her was too much, too good, to keep quiet about however it helped that she expressed herself cheek pressed down into the cool kitchen counter.
“Yes,” Jake hissed pushing himself all the way in. “Fuck, you’re the best thing, babe.”
She felt a hand, once again, run up the length of her back as he shuffled on the spot to adjust himself inside of her. The stretch ceased for a brief second but immediately came back, this time for good, repeating itself in a steady pattern that had the entire front of Amy’s body, from her knees hitting the lower kitchen cupboards to the face rubbing up against the cool marble, following the given rhythm. The sound of their bodies slapping together, Amy’s skin drumming against their counter to the beat of his repetitive thrusting as well, came together like an obscene symphony. Only one thing was missing, and he knew why: she was waiting for permission like the good girl she was.
Bending over her so far that his chest ran parallel with her back, almost skin against skin, Jake made a makeshift ponytail with his wife’s soft, dark hair and, keeping in mind to stay careful, forced Amy’s head off the counter and back. Amy hissed, the pain and pleasure coming together, and she was finally in the perfect position for him to whisper into her ear.
“I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.”
The observation, rather the implicit demand, went straight to her already extensive drive and with her head held up by his hand in her hair, Amy allowed her sounds of pleasure to fall freely from her lips and accompany the repetitive sound their body’s coming together, over and over, skin to skin, skin to wood, skin to stone.
“Oh- oh- ohmygod yes,” came tumbling out of her like the world was collapsing inside of her and having straightened back up, still with a hold of Amy’s hair, Jake could only admire the scene before him as he felt the stressful case and immense pressure melting away. After this he would definitely have to apologize for being so absent lately but for now, they probably needed this more than anything else.
“Y-yes, baby. Feel so good around me.”
Every word, every sound, every move was punctuated by a thrust, one after the othert, speed and force slowly increasing as a momentum built and both parties fell into and drowned in an endless pool of longing and passion.
“Was this what you wanted when you decided you were going to act like a fucking brat?”
A tug on the makeshift ponytail demanded that Amy listen even though she knew he might not necessarily want an answer from her - at least not a vocal one.
“Was is worth it? Tell me.”
Another tug on her hair, definitely demanding an answer, and his fingers digging into her fleshy hips earned him a small cry of submission that almost had him coming right there on the spot. Alas he stayed focused and steady. He wasn’t ready to let go yet, and neither was she. Just the way he wanted it and the way she loved it.
“Y-yes,” she just barely managed to stutter between thrusts, too far gone to make out a longer sentence, even though she was dying to tell him just how good he made her feel and how she’d missed him inside of her.
“Can’t believe all it takes to shut you up is a good fuck,” he accused her, but she could tell he was not so secretly loving it, simply saying it, making it sound filthy, because he had needed it just as badly as her. “So desperate you’ll take it anywhere…”
He trailed off, out of breath from snapping his hips back and forth into her with hefty momentum that had both his and her legs shaking. Although, he knew, he wasn’t quite done with her yet. There might’ve been beads of sweat running down her arched back, red marks on her arms from the rubbing of the counter and beginning knots where he held onto her hair, but it couldn’t be over yet.
Using the last surge of energy, he had left in him, Jake decided to let go of his wife’s hair and used the now freed hand to give her ass one last spank, one whose loud snap and following whine bounced off the kitchen walls. Besides that, nothing was said and Jake was pleased.
“No complaining, huh? You just know that you always look so much better when I mark you up.”
It was hard to tell since her entire body jerked every time he reentered her however Jake was sure: she nodded. He stroked the fresh redness of her ass before hunching over her still very much bent over figure. The new curve of his body to ran along hers, his chest to his back, and gave him the opportunity to take a hold of her hands where they were still clinging onto the kitchen counter’s edge for dear life. Now he could help his thrusts by pulling into her.
“I’m so close, Ames. So fucking close.”
He readjusted as to be able to whisper directly into her ear.
“You look so good bent over like this… All for me…”
“O-only for you,” she managed to stutter.
“But I want to be able to see your face when you cum.. So hard like never before,” he marked his point by gathering some extra force to thrust just a bit deeper and the small scream it derived was worth it. Although he had already (kind of) warned her Amy felt like dying the second he so brutally pulled out of her completely. It was all soon forgotten though; the second he pulled her back up straight, spun her around and lifted her, almost entirely by himself, up to sit on the counter. Before Amy could fully comprehend what was happening, he had her face cupped in his hand and their eyes locked.
Amy could’ve sworn what he did and said next was the sexiest thing he’d ever done to her: without letting go of her face, neither her eyes, he used his free hand to push her thighs apart and around him.
“Now don’t you dare look away.”
Without further explanation he grabbed his cock and guided it back into her, once more appeasing her with the feeling of being filled to the brim by him. It was far from as easy or smooth as their previous position, but they fell back into a enjoyable pattern of movements. Before they knew it Amy was back to whimpering at every thrust, her magic spot struck over and over again. She was shrieking her pleas as he kept their eyes locked and there was no escaping it. The hand holding her face snuck a thumb across her dry lips, furthermore, causing them to part and welcome his finger past the edge and into the mouth he was dying to kiss.  
“Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look like this?” he praised enjoying the wet sensation around his thumb and the muffled effect on her whimpers it had before removing his hand, to her disappointment, only to then please when he put it to better use down between her legs. “And you’re going to look even hotter when you fall apart around me, understood?”
“Y-yes,” she croaked with eyes slowly beginning to flutter closed. “I- I’m so close, baby.”
“Me too,” he breathed heavily as he saw her eyes shut as his fingers played with her clit, wishing and yearning to take her where they both wanted to be. “Now look at me,” he demanded using his free hand to once again grab her jaw and reposition her face as to be sure she was looking directly into his eyes as he felt himself come closer to his climax.
He picked up the pace, the slaps of their skin becoming louder, and Amy immediately reacted by grinding harder onto both his cock and fingers meanwhile her mouth let every deep, sinful emotion pour out of her as a messy ode to her own climax.
“R-right there, ugh- yes! Faster, harder-“
“I’m gonna cum, babe. Right now,” he exclaimed.
“Y- yes, inside of me. Keep going,” she begged afraid that his climax would interrupt God’s work he was doing on her.
“Ye-“ he was cut off by his own climax which caused his head to shoot back and a groan from the deep of his gut. Although Amy had nothing to fear: even through his climax Jake kept up his pace, mostly with his fingers, and not too long after he had Amy writhing and gasping for on the counter.
“Come for me, babe. All over me.”
He was slowly coming down from his own climax and passionately coaxed his unravelling wife through their shared euphoria, listening and staring into her eyes as she crumbled around him.
After a few moments of aftershock in the shape of shuttering, gasping and whimpering, the room fell silent and time seemed to stand still. By then Amy had slumped forward, completely drained, leaning her head onto his shoulder meanwhile the cool night temperature of the room started to get to her. Small goosebumps danced all over her body.
For a bit they just let it be, let the moment stand on its own, giving Jake the time to run his hands all over his wife’s shaky, beautiful body that he loved oh so much.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so absent lately. I hope you know that it has nothing to do with you.”
Although it was a statement and a fact rather than a question, Jake definitely wanted and needed to know if she knew that it was so.
“I know.”
He could feel and hear her smile because that’s how stupid well he knew her.
“Good. Still want to say I’m sorry though,” he smiled into the top of her head before pecking it and getting a small taste of the sweat they’d both built up. “…And I promise that I won’t let work control me like this again.”
Silence. A beat.
“I really appreciate you saying that. Thank you…”
She turned her head so that she could kiss his lips and, just an hour ago, Amy might’ve thought he was the most annoying, stubborn human on earth and maybe he was… But now she was also once again sure of the fact that no one could or ever would love her like her husband does.
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I think the show inflated Dawson and Joey’s connection via the dialogue. If they wanted to show us what a deep connection DJ had they should have done more than show Dawson ranting to Joey about his life and having Joey respond to it. I believe they’re childhood friends. I don’t believe they’re soulmates or even that they have the “I-don’t-know-where-you-end-and-I-begin.” Their friendship would have been more believable if Dawson hadn’t been so narcissistic and self absorbed. We should have seen a more balanced/equal relationship between him and the other characters.
I don’t think Dawson is any worse than the other characters, especially during the college years. The main problem with Dawson is that the show continuously tells us what a great guy he is. And by doing so, it doesn’t always hold him accountable to his mistakes to the degree that necessary. When Dawson does apologize he often sounds dismissive and condensing (ei: “I could tell you all roads lead back to me but those are just words…go… you’re free.”) Also, Most of Dawson’s interactions with his friends revolved around his feelings and his interests.
Like in a commentary, Kerr Smith, discusses how hard it was to film the scene where everyone gathered to cheer Dawson up in the end of True Love, especially since the scene before that one featured a very emotional moment between Jack and his dad. It was as if Dawson’s heartbreak was more important than Jack’s. Dawson literally used homophobia directed at Jack to win Joey back and also almost crashed Jack’s boat, he didn’t deserve to have Jack be his friend.
When it comes to Pacey, the narrative acknowledges that he’s a screw up and holds him accountable for his mistakes. When Pacey screws up he usually also apologizes right away and it doesn’t sound half-assed like “I’m sorry IF you got offended.” Also I like that Pacey doesn’t only apologize, he rectifies the situation via his actions (ex: when he came back to dance with Joey at the prom in S6 after humiliating her at prom or when he raised money for Dawson’s film after losing all of his money).
Personally, I don’t think Dawson is any more  misogynistic than any of the other guys. The most misogynistic scene was where Jack told his frat bro that Audrey was “easy”. He was forgiven pretty easily by Audrey and Joey for saying that. Pacey also had a tendency to over-sexualize certain women.
Dawson is horrible in later seasons as well. For one he cheats on his girlfriend and then has the nerve to get angry at Joey for being understandably mad about the situation. He calls her a scared child after just sleeping with her btw which is super gross. Instead of taking responsibility for his screwup he blames her and makes himself to be a victim of Joey.
Dawson still has zero empathy in later seasons. Number 1, he goes to Pacey and asks him to invest ALL his money. As someone who works in the financial world and I believe everyone should know this. It doesn't matter how carefully you invest... you should never invest every cent you have. That is extremely stupid!!! And then he went to his friend wanting him to be the one to invest it and Pacey is smartly reluctant to do so because that is such a bad idea to have your friend do something like that. But he pushed Pacey into it in the first place. It sucks that in the end he lost his money but Pacey also lost his own money... did Dawson give a shit about Pacey? No. He could have comiserated with him since they were both in the same boat but no Dawson thinks of no one but himself. Their whole fight in that episode just infuriates me because it's a lot Dawson dredging up the past and rewriting history to once again making Pacey out to be the villain of his life's movie that he has made in his own head.
"You wanna know why we're not friends, pace? It's not because of what happened with Joey, even though that turned my world upside down. It's because from that day forward, I realized that you hadn't been my friend for... maybe quite some time, 'cause the second you made us competitors" This line makes me livid. Dawson is the one who accused Pacey of stealing the PSATs when he truly didn't, called him weak and self motivated. He threw a basketball at Pacey's face and broke his nose. He forgot his birthday. Told him he should go back to being a screwup who makes him feel better about his life. Dawson was a horrible friend and all those things happened before the situation with Joey and Dawson has to the nerve to act like Pacey was the one who didn't want to be his friend. Also the line about making them competitors? Dawson made them competitors. He did not have to care that Pacey and Joey dated he did not need to throw away their friendship. He chose that. He ruined their friendship. Dawson literally made them competitors when he signed up for the boat race that Pacey had signed up to take part in weeks before all the drama went down. Dawson is literally rewriting history there to make himself the victim.
"I remember when my best friend had a choice and chose to turn his back on me. If you'd ever stopped settin' us up against each other, you woulda realized that you and I are not that far apart." Pacey turned his back on him? I seem to recall Pacey doing everything in his power to fix their friendship in S4 including apologizing to Dawson even though I don't believe he needed to. Also Pacey went to Dawson to apologize about losing all his money and Dawson dredged up the past and tried to demonize him for things that he had already apologized for years prior. Looks to me like your the one settin you two up against each other, Dawson!
"You don't wanna know me, pace. You wrote me off a long time ago." Again I feel like a broken record but in season 5 and 6 Pacey was extremely nice to Dawson way nicer than I would have been. Dawson wrote Pacey off the moment he found out he was dating Joey.
Secondly he never apologized to Pacey for nearly killing him and saying horrible vile things about him at the end of Season 3 so one can assume that he believed until the end of time that he wasn't in the wrong. Plus i'm of the opinion that he shouldn't be forgiven until he has apologized.
He is way more sexist than Pacey and Jack... there might be some peripheral characters that have him beat but i'm not too sure.
In season 5, he meets that film critic and says some sexist bullshit to her specifically this is their exchange...
Amy: Hardball. Keanu Reeves coaches this inner-city little league team and, in the process, changes their lives for the better. I lost it. I mean, I cried like a baby. I saw it in the theater 5 times.
Dawson: That explains that, then.
Amy: What?
Dawson: Why your boyfriend dumped you. You're a sentimental drama queen with really crappy taste in movies.
1. Fuck you Dawson. Your opinion in movies is not that great. Wasn't he the one who in S3 went on and on to Pacey about how he didn't like film noir... yeah I don't trust his opinion in movies in the least.
2. Drama queen?! Also telling a random woman you don't even know that he understands why her boyfriend dumped her?! Again fuck you Dawson.
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shadowsfascination · 4 years
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Shadamy swordland AU - part 4
The air was knocked out of Amy’s lungs by his statement and her skin paled, drawing long shadows over her usually cheerful face. Her head began to ache and she rubbed her forehead as if to rub to swirl of emotions inside her away. Shadow on the other hand crossed his arms and legs, a hint of sorrow playing his ruby eyes.
Amy hunched her back and leaned on her hands, eyed Shadow and drew a breath. She intended to speak, but found no words. Instead she watched the light of the flickering candle cast constantly changing shadows on him, the warm tones of its’ flame contrasting with the now chilly atmosphere between them.
Unaware of it Shadow gritted his teeth in distress. At a total loss for words or the slightest idea how to behave in this situation, he chewed his lip and mildly pinched his arms. He couldn’t talk anymore. It was somehow beyond his control and he despised powerless it made him feel. His body froze and the longer the silence lasted, the further the words drifted away from him. Meanwhile his mind became a cacophony of tangled, blurry thoughts.
I have to snap out of this!
Shadow took a deep breath and closed his eyes, tracing the source of the messed up chaos energy in his body and changing it into a state of tranquillity again.
“Amy.”
The sudden renewed confidence in him broke not only the silence, but the seal between them as well. She couldn’t somehow deny his gaze and locked eyes with him, her eyes full of questions and expectations. He took her hands to cover them in his own. They were warmer than she’d expected.
“I cannot explain any of this to you.”
Amy frowned at him in annoyance and backed off to escape his hold, her eyes starting to blaze. A series of angry growls escaped her lips and she clenched fists. Her knuckles made a cracking sound from it.   “Please, oh please tell me you’re joking!”
He blinked twice, innocence and incomprehension written all over his face.
“I’m not. It would be a poor jest.” “You can’t just drop this bomb on me, fall quiet and then not explain any of it!”
She was prepared for a whole lot of it, but this? – she thought to herself. As soon as the thought landed in the conscious part of her mind she labelled herself a fool, questioning what she did expect from him. She knew Shadow… Why did she keep getting so thrown off by his untactile behaviour?
Blood rushed through her veins at high speed, causing a rustle in her ears. There it was again: the unwanted announcement of her bad temper. He’d soon have to deal with it if he didn’t make haste with properly explaining this… mess! At this rate, she still had control over her temper, but that could change in the blink of an eye. “You’re not saying anything yourself either. Although, knowing you, I hardly believe you don’t have any questions. I’m not throwing that in your face, am I?” “Well, can you blame me?!” “A little, yeah. You carry your heart on your tongue. You always know what to say.” “I don’t right now!” “I don’t believe you. I think you’re trying to spare my feelings and I don’t care for it.”
“Oh no, Shadow. You’re NOT shifting YOUR responsibility to explain who you actually are to me.” “I’m not.” The pink female whirled around and caught his attention with her fierce turquoise orbs. The warm, yellowish tones of the dancing flame were fighting for precedence with the luminary aqua in her eyes. He could see her hands gesturing, signalling him her upset internal state in the blurry background of his view.
“Then talk.”
“I can’t.” “Blast, Shadow! I can’t believe how incredibly rude you are to me! I’m your girlfriend! You’re keeping so many important things from me…I wonder how you in 300 darn years still achieve to be totally oblivious about how to act polite and chivalrous around a woman!”
“You should know me better than to mistake me for a soft, gooey fool who drops every aspect of his personality when with a woman. I might be a knight, but surely I’m not going to be your imaginary heroic boyfriend. Or always treat you like a queen when you’re being a huge pain in the ass, Amy. If that’s what you want, than better rethink your choices…”
Another of her romantic bubbles burst by another blunt statement, one he made her aware of she had it in the first place. Amy shifted her headstrong gaze to the red, green and blue-checked woolen blankets on the bed. Ignoring him, she distracted herself to follow the lines from the wrinkles on them with her fingers. The raw texture of the wool prickled through her gloves. It was a unpleasant feeling and she wondered how he was able to sleep under them.
“… Besides: I’m sharing my deepest secrets with you! Do you think that’s easy for me? What more could you possibly want?” “I want you to explain who on Mobius you are!” she shouted. “I want you to explain how it’s even possible to be that old? I wanna know what you are. A ghost? Some divine creature? And what about your strange, dark powers and the stone?! Did you have kids in the past? What does this all make you?!” Both their ears fell back, the awkward silence became deafening on them. Amy’s eyes reddened from the upcoming tears and anger. She bit her lip and bravely fought against the waterworks. A few salty tears quietly dripped down her cheeks though. Amy battled the strong tendency to cry once more. She felt so hideous whenever she cried- and she did see herself cry before. She felt she looked awful and so she did her uttermost best to hide it- in comparison to when she was a young girl. “What’s it make us? Just tell me.. something! ANYTHING will do!”
Her loud, hoarse voice cracked and she sniffed. Shadow’s hand squeezed and crinkled the blanket with force. He cursed under his breath.
“I KNOW, OKAY?! I know ANY words will do, but there are no words! NONE! They’re stuck! I don’t mean to be rude or inconsiderate of your feelings. Plagues! If anything, that’s what’s making me freeze up. I have no idea at all how to handle this!”
An upcoming sense of guilt sent a series of shivers down her spine. Her stupid pride and temper pushed him too far. A lump in her throat now accompanied the already present stress-related stomach aches.
“I don’t either… It’s scaring me.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Shadow, I don’t want to be the reason you’re holding back. And don’t tell me I’m not, because I know I am. Sorry about that. Just spill. I’ll learn to deal with it.”
“It’s not just that. I can’t verbalize all this.”
He concentrated on the chaos energy in his body once more, shards of them whirling around like a hive of bees. They seemed impossible to catch. His focus shifted to his irregular, high paced breathing and he breathed out some of the stress in his body. The shards immediately lowered their impossible-to-follow rhythm and he was finally able to catch some of them.
I never lose my confidence.
With a certain determination Shadow grasped her gloved hands. They were tensely folded into fists. Their touch revealed the quivers they were both trying to control. Shadow suddenly scooped her onto his lap and then rose to carry her bridal style, all much to Amy’s confusion.
“However, I can show you.”
His signature self-sufficient smile now curved his lips.
“Come on, I’ll carry you. I know how much you love this romance-stuff and I am a knight after all.” He blew out the candle, letting the darkness swallow them entirely before calling out the ‘Chaos control’. With this single chant he overcame the barrier of space and time. The darkness around them swiftly faded into a serene surrounding, filled with flowy, intertwining ruby, royal blue, shiny silver and regal gold ribbons of light.
They weightlessly soared through the pacifying, outstretching void. A sea of glowing orbs laid ahead of them and with confidence. Shadow commanded some of them to come closer, each carrying a memory. He let some fragments play out before her eyes to see for herself what happened in his past, for he was unable to tell her.
It was all there, right before Amy’s eyes: the mystery of what he was, his unknown origin and lonesome existence by surviving everyone he’d ever cared for in the past. He had roamed around the planet for years and years in order to keep his immortality a secret.
There was also a set of painful memories in which he was fighting, on the run or hiding for the many different faces of danger. They were a tad blurry and she couldn’t quite capture the meaning of it. The memory of the unknown hero neared and she witnessed his amazing powers, bravery and strength. It replaced her unsettling state of being with much softer feelings, easing her temper away. Amy smiled when concluded to herself that neither his physics or personality had seemed to change. The Shadow she knew now was as stubborn, blunt, socially awkward, dedicated, loyal and brave as in his past. Without having to verbalize he answered everything she wanted to know and more. Amy’s sweet, caring nature calmed her temper and she empathized with Shadow. She felt for the challenges his long life had brought upon him and pulled him into a deep, consoling hug.
“Shadow, I’m sorry I pushed you. I misjudged and jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
The scenery of his bedroom slowly faded in again and Shadow gently put her down. He lit the candle again. A shameful blush coloured his cheeks and played his eyes. His ears drooped backwards. Shadow felt like he was stripped to the bone. “I know everyone thinks I excel in many things, but communicating my inner state isn’t one of them. It heaves me down whenever I… feel strongly about something. Actions speak louder than a thousand words to me.”
“Thank you for being honest with me, for showing me all this. I imagine it must’ve been hard on you. You seemed so lonesome all these years.”
Hiding his face in his hands, he stared without focal point in his gaze. Shadow broke down internally, forcefully biting the insides of his lips to prevent him from crying like an infant.
“You’ve seen it for yourself now. You’ve seen me fight…My past…It’s the most private thing that I carry with me.”
“You don’t have to carry this burden all by yourself.” “You’re the very first to learn about it.”
“I already assumed I was, given your struggle to share it with me. I’m glad you told me.”
Amy smiled, trying to lighten up the mood again. “It’s awful and humiliating to share. I even killed in the past. I can’t help but feel like a monster sometimes. It haunts me.”
“You’re a knight. There’s times where you’re left no other choice than to eliminate your enemies. If anything, you’re a hero, Shadow.”
“I’m not! You weren’t there! Y-you d-d-don’t…You don’t know…”
He whimpered almost inaudibly while his shaking body sank into her embrace. Amy petted his back and caressed his quills while he hid his face in her chest. She cupped his tear-stained muzzle and made him look her in the eye. When his red, bloodshot eyes met her aqua ones they showed the strong-minded, yet hopelessly emotional Amy Rose Shadow had fallen for.
“There’s still so much that I don’t understand, but my emotional compass tells me you’re reliable and trustworthy. I’d like to believe you must’ve had your reasons… Tell me whenever you’re ready.”
She let herself fall back on the bed and pulled Shadow onto her, snuggling up to him under the prickly woolen blankets. On any other night the knight would’ve protested and let his self-discipline never allow her to stay over, but they were exhausted. Shadow and Amy couldn’t battle their minds anymore and forgot about the possible consequences they’d have to deal with in the morning. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. None of it. Even though their minds were loaded with troubles, which usually would’ve kept them awake, it somehow did not tonight.
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I struggled with this chapter. I’ll try to make the next one more uplifting (: Sometimes it seems to me that neither of these two dorks know a single thing about relationships, yet they have so much love to give to one another. 
I’d appreciate if you share your thoughts and send me a message if you find any annoying typo’s or grammar mishaps. 
@shadamyheadcanons, here you go!
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padfootagain · 4 years
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A Very Rose Mistake (V)
Part 5 : How Jealousy Gets Denied
 Here we go with a new chapter! I am back, people! Sorry for the long pause, but depression is kicking my arse these days, so writing is a little hard at times. Plus, this turned out longer than I thought it would be.
No warning to be applied here, except for a little bit of jealousy **demonical laughter**
Troubles are starting. It's coming folks!
I hope you like this part! Please, tell me what you think about it!
Also, if you want to explore more the area where the hike described in this chapter takes place in the Trossachs, here is a very nice website where you have a view from Ben A'an!
Word count: 4686
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Holmes Chapel
2008
 Harry was late.
Again.
Third time in a week, and it was beginning to seriously get on your nerves. You repeatedly tapped your pen on your desk, while looking outside your window towards Harry's in the house next to yours. His curtains were closed, you hesitated to use the red piece of glass to signal him that you needed him, but neither of you had used it in a long time. So, you didn't really dare to reach for the drawer of your desk.
You didn't want to seem childish in front of him these days. And maybe it was because of his girlfriend. Maybe it was because he had a girlfriend when you had never had a boyfriend yourself. And maybe you were also getting more and more pissed because Harry was ignoring you these days.
You didn't want to be that friend, the one who called on him and acted clingy and asked for time to be spent with. You understood that Harry was infatuated. You understood that he liked his girlfriend and wanted to spend time with her, and it was normal. But that didn't mean that he had the right to simply cancel all your plans. You were okay with the fact that you couldn't just drop by to his house anymore unannounced, in case Felicia would be there with him. But you had planned this evening to work on your essay for your English class. You had checked with him if he was free, and he had promised to come by 5 pm. It was almost 6 now.
You checked your cellphone one more time, but once again, were met with no text messages or missed calls. He hadn't even warned you that he'd be late, which he used to do before Felicia got into the picture.
You didn't want to be that kind of friend who acted almost possessive, and couldn't manage to accept the arrival of his girlfriend in your inner circle of friends. But on the other hand, you reckoned that Harry was being that kind of friend too. The kind who abandoned his friends to spend all his time with his girlfriend. The kind who got so engulfed in his relationship that he simply dropped everything else the second she asked for him. It was excessive, you reckoned, but then, you weren't altogether surprised. Harry was passionate, and loyal to a fault. He was forgiving and too kind for his own good sometimes. You didn't doubt that in a relationship, he would be a huge romantic. Maybe he had an idea of love that was a little too idealistic, a little too naïve, with too many rainbows and unicorns involved and not enough heartbreak, but you couldn't really hold it against him. You could, however, hold against him that it was the third time in five days that he wasn't meeting you when you planned to spend a couple of hours working together, and it was driving you crazy.
It was a strange mixture of feelings that you experienced, between anger and aching and something a little cold that you couldn't really describe. It felt painful, that was for sure, but more than sad, it was painted red with annoyance and fear. A little voice in your head that screamed 'danger'. You weren't sure of what the feeling meant, but you knew for certain that you didn't like it all the same.
Lost in your thought, you jumped as your mother's voice rang through the house, calling for you.
"Y/N! Harry's here!"
You barely had the time to turn to your door before Harry was stumbling in the room, clearly out of breath.
"Hi, Y/N!" he grinned, staggering in the room and throwing his backpack on your bed.
"Hi," you tried to give him a smile, but it was hard to brush the irritating feeling away as it lingered despite Harry's presence.
"Okay, so… what do we start with?"
You tried to answer his question, you really did. But you were too angry at him for behaving like this for weeks now. So, instead, you answered his question with one of your own.
"Where were you?"
"What?" he asked back with a perplexed frown.
"I've been waiting for you for more than an hour. Where were you?"
He heaved a sigh, letting himself fall onto your bed.
"I know, I'm sorry I'm late. Felicia wanted to hang out a little after my shift at the bakery."
You stared at him for a moment, before standing up to go close the door. Harry watched you with an eyebrow raised in surprise, but he didn't speak nor did he try to interrupt you.
You heaved a sigh, nervously twisting your hands together.
"Harry… You've got to stop doing that," you told him, your voice slow yet he could hear in the way it trembled that you were angry and were trying to keep your voice down. "You can't just… tell me you're gonna study with me and then disappear to go snog your girlfriend instead."
"Y/N…"
"No, let me finish! You're not being fair! I haven't seen you outside of school in weeks. You're either late or you don't show at all."
"What do you want me to do? She's my girlfriend…"
"And I'm your best friend."
"I've got to make time for her."
"I get that. I'm not blaming you for seeing her."
"That's exactly what you're doing though."
Your expression saddened, the crease between your brows fading to reveal a fragility that wasn't there before instead.
"I get it that you want to spend time with her, but we had planned to study together. You can't just cancel everything for her either, you need a balance between the two. It can't be all about her. I get it that you want to spend time with her, and that's alright. But when we agree on a time to spend with each other, you can't bail out."
"I'm not making it all about her."
"You are though."
"If you had a boyfriend, you'd understand."
You cringed at that, wincing and glowering at him. You weren't good either at hiding how his words hurt you.
"What? I'm right," he shrugged.
"You're being a dick."
"You're overreacting."
"If I promised you that I would do something for you, and I didn't do it to spend some time with my boyfriend, wouldn't you be mad at me?"
Harry tried to deny your statement, but he would have been lying. And he didn't want to lie to you. So, instead, he heaved a sigh, and it was his time to wince.
"I guess…"
"Well, that's what you've been doing ever since you started being with her!"
You were starting to raise your voice, and Harry hated it. Not only was he annoyed, but he also simply hated seeing you upset, no matter the reason behind your emotion.
He felt his own anger rising, a mere reflex to hearing your acidic tone. But he knew that it wouldn't do anything good, and he didn't mean to upset you even more. He couldn’t deny either that you were right. He had been neglecting your friendship lately, and he could see now that it was hurting you. So, he heaved a sigh.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled under his breath, pushing the words out reluctantly. "I guess you're right."
He reached in his backpack, grabbing a bag of pastries he had gotten from the bakery he worked at.
"I bought these for you, by the way."
You cautiously took the bag he was handing you, as if it were a trick of his. You peered inside to reveal a couple of chocolate muffins.
"These are my favourite," you breathed, hating the way your anger simply melted away.
He always had this effect on you. Harry always managed to do something so kind, no matter how big the gesture, that you couldn't stay mad at him.
Because you had never asked him for these cakes. He just saw them and thought of you.
For a moment, you were envious, almost, of his girlfriend. Because it had to be wonderful to be with someone who truly paid attention to people and wanted to make them happy as a reflex.
You knew that he hadn't bought the cakes for any particular reason. That he hadn't thought of anything besides the fact that you liked this flavour and it would make you happy to munch on these as you studied with him.
Your heart was beating faster, and you weren't sure why. You knew though that, as you thought of Harry's girlfriend again, you were bitter, and not only because how annoyed you were at Harry for being late.
"I know," he answered with the ghost of a smile, as if you had said the dumbest and most obvious thing.
You heaved a sigh, sitting by his side on your bed.
"Thanks."
"I'll make sure not to be late next time."
"Thank you."
He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his embrace.
"Are we good?"
"Yeah… we're good," you nodded, relaxing in his arms.
"Good, cause you need to help me with this history thing. It's so boring!"
"History is not boring! You're boring," you replied, your voice shushed by his jumper as you pressed your face in his shoulder.
Loud footsteps echoed throughout the hallway by your door, but you didn't pay much attention to them, way too comfortable in your best friend's arms to be bothered.
Until your door was swung opened, making both you and Harry jump and break away in a hurry. Your father appeared, seeming infuriated, and when he spoke, his voice was shaking with wrath.
"I told both of you to always keep this door open!"
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Loch Lomond
2020
 For the first day with the entire family in Loch Lomond, Cassie and Amy took a day without any planning and proposed to go explore the shores and the wilderness around the lodge. Some members of your family were eager for a quiet day along the shores, but you wanted to go explore other parts of the region, which was why you were now sitting around the breakfast table with a guide book and your phone set on your laps, focused on finding the perfect spot for a hike.
"You've spent half an hour looking at maps, darling… just… choose a path and go there," your mother sighed, annoyed.
"What do you care? You're gonna stay here all day anyway. I want a nice spot. I want to climb and have a nice view, but I also want some forest."
Your mother rolled her eyes at you again, but chose to not say a word this time.
"I think I'm gonna go to the Trossachs and try to go to… Ben A'an. It has a nice spot, it should give us a nice view," you mumbled under your breath, talking more to yourself than to anyone else in particular. "But it's not too high so it shouldn't be too hard."
By your side, Harry was finishing to eat his pancake and drinking his cup of coffee, reading the newspaper. If he was attending your cousin's wedding, he also took this week as a well-deserved holiday. He had been particularly busy these past few months, and would enjoy to spend a calmer week. And if he usually never refused a hike or any activity outdoor, he longed for a good nap. So, when asked, he had chosen to stay around the loch for the day. Amy's grandfather was organizing an expedition to go fishing, and Harry was most likely going to join the activity. Cassie was up for the hike and was on her way to convincing Amy to join her (after all, a lot of kisses always go a long way and are hard to resist), so you wouldn't be going on your own, he could sit this one out and just enjoy a lazy day.
He was sitting next to you around the long table. He had been eyeing your hand for the past ten minutes, but hadn't dared to reach for it. Giving his usually affectionate way to display friendship, it shouldn't have been a worry for him to add a sprinkle of touches here and there for your family to better buy your dating alibi.
But the thing was, it was you. And things were different with you. And touching your hand wasn't the same as reaching for any other of his friends' or acquaintances'. He couldn't say why, didn't dare to, but it wasn't the same, so he read for the third time in a row the same line of his article while he silently weighed the pros and the cons of reaching out and taking your hand in his.
Meanwhile, Patrick was listening to your conversation while munching on his eggs.
"Would you mind if I joined you?" he asked, studying the picture on the guide book of the spot you had found from across the table, craning his neck a little to see the picture better. "It really does look like it has an incredible view."
"Sure!" you answered with an enthusiastic smile. "The more the merrier!"
You didn't notice the frown that settled on Harry's brow. You didn't notice his gaze abandoning the article to settle on you.
"Great! That sounds like a lot of fun. I love hiking. It's soothing, to be closer to nature."
"Yeah, me too. I try to go out as much as I can to take long walks or go hiking around L.A."
"I've joined a group actually last year. We organize hikes almost every weekend. It's nice to have people to walk with."
"Oh, that's so nice! Where do you go hiking?"
Harry studied the way you leaned towards Patrick, and the way he reciprocated your gesture, the open conversation closing around only the two of you. And he wished you were leaning towards him instead.
He shook himself out of this thought, though. What was wrong with him? You were just talking about hiking…
"Just around Glasgow, but I don't think we've been to this spot yet, I'd really like to try this trail."
"Well, then, you're welcome to join us!"
You reached across the table to take a piece of bread, and Patrick accidentally did the same thing as you at the same time, your hands meeting across the table.
You pulled away in a hurry, shying away and mumbling an apology under your breath. And Harry didn't miss a bit of the interaction. He didn't miss the way you wiggled on your chair, and the way you looked away, and the way your fingers struggled a little to wrap around your cup of tea.
And he didn't miss the way Patrick struggled to hide a smile, and the way he stared at you too intensely, and the way his eyes stopped on your lips for a moment before settling on his plate again.
Harry rolled his eyes in response, annoyed. He didn't sign up to play third wheel…
"Who else is supposed to come?" Patrick asked, bringing the conversation back to life.
"Cassie and Amy! I reckon that everybody else is having a lazy day today."
"Your boyfriend isn't coming either?" he asked, turning to Harry, who was still mostly hidden behind his newspaper.
"No, he said he'd go fishing…"
"Actually, I think I've changed my mind," your fake boyfriend jumped into the conversation, folding his newspaper to place it on the table next to his plate. "A hike sounds great!"
"You're sure? You said you were tired," you asked, surprised.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Breakfast gave me a boost, actually. I'd love to go hiking."
This time, he didn't hesitate, and he did reach for your hand that rested on the white tablecloth, wrapping his long fingers around yours and giving them a gentle squeeze. You gave him a grin.
"Great! Then, it'll be just the five of us! It's gonna be amazing!"
You turned towards your food to hurry to finish so you could get ready. Meanwhile, Harry and Patrick's gazes met, and if no words were exchanged, the way that Patrick looked down at his plate after only a handful of seconds spoke volumes all the same.
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"Okay, you said it would not be too hard…"
You couldn't answer to Cassie through your panting. You had barely started and you were already out of breath, a sharp jolt of pain stinging your side. The path was steep, making your muscles ache already and your breath catch in your throat. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all…
"Well, it didn't seem so hard on the internet…" you replied, stopping to catch your breath.
The sky was clear and blue, with only a handful of lazy clouds drifting before the sun once in a while. Bosquets around the path clothed the high grass on each sides, while evergreen pine trees mingled their green foliage with the orange, red and yellow ones of deciduous trees. It created a strange and yet beautiful mix of colours that painted the slopes of the mountains, forming a forest across the lower parts of the rocky sides. The path in itself was clear and there was no fear of getting lost, and for as long as you were careful to not twist your ankle on a random piece of rock, you reckoned that the road was quite safe. Except for its slope, that was much steeper than what you had anticipated. You expected an easy hike, and were met with a pretty difficult one instead so far.
By your side, Harry was panting as well, and you were suddenly worried about his asthma.
"You alright?" you asked him with concern painted all over your features.
But Harry gave you a reassuring smile.
"I'm fine. Not ever trusting… you again with… planning a hike… but… besides that… I'm fine," he answered, his words cut by deep breaths he was forced to take in an attempt to calm his burning lungs.
"It'll get easier soon, look," you reassured him, nodding towards the path that stretched before you, and seemed to be less steep further on.
Patrick seemed to struggle less than the rest of your party, and he turned to you as he visibly held back on his speed to stay with the group instead of going further on his own.
"I'll take your bag if you want," he offered you, nodding at your little backpack where you had your bottle of water and some cookies that would be your prize for when you would reach the top.
But you shook your head.
"I'll be fine."
"Are you sure? It's no bother. I'm used to hiking in this kind of terrain, it's easier for me."
Harry rolled his eyes at the comment, but remained silent, merely trying to catch his breath himself.
Despite having some steep moments, the path was pleasant and the fresh air was doing wonders on your moral. For once, you were able to forget about the stress of your PhD, and spending some time with your friends put an unwavering smile on your lips.
The wind of autumn was chilly and on the less protected spots of the trail, it bit down on your cheeks, but it was vivifying too, in a way that gave you energy to go on and continue further up the path. Without your parents around, both you and Harry were more relaxed, and you fell back into your usual banter, acting more like friends than fake lovers again. And it was comfortable. A known territory you had been exploring for decades, familiar and safe. You were in a comfort zone that the two of you had built along the years, and it felt reassuring to fall back in this old safe area of your relationship for a few hours.
As you finally reached the top after more than an hour of climbing up the rocky path, your breath was taken away not only by the physical effort you had been through, but by the sight before your eyes. The top of Ben A'an offered almost a 360°C sight over the loch and the mountains all around, a perfect mix of peaceful water, blue sky, rocky mountains and slopes painted in green, orange, yellow and red by trees in fall. A couple of ravens croaked a few meters away, perched on mossy rocks and breaking the quiet of the place. The wind, strong and howling, seemed to punch your cheeks with each ghast of air. Facing you, Ben Venue stood taller, its sloops colourful, as if the work of a painter more than of nature. Loch Katrine stretched as a long patch of water, glimmering under the vivid sun, on your right. On the other side of a forest, laid the calm waters of Loch Achray, situated on your left. You rested your back against one of the rocks behind you as you took in the view, your feet safely set against the pebbles and dirt on the ground, the grassy area, punctuated with bushes, only starting close to the edge of the slope. The top of Ben A'an, that you had now reached, was rather levelled, and all over a perfect spot for a break.
"It's gorgeous," you breathed.
"Yeah," Harry nodded by your side, still out of breath after the last push that had been needed to reach the top.
You turned a worried face towards him.
"Are you sure you're alright? You're breathing funny."
He coughed a couple of times, but rolled his eyes at you.
"I'm fine, mum. Just out of breath because I've finished climbing up a mountain just now, you know?"
It was your time to roll your eyes at him.
"Well, sorry to get worried about your malfunctioning lungs."
"They're not malfunctioning!"
"You're asthmatic! They are malfunctioning."
"You're out of breath too."
"I don't sound like I'm about to die."
"I don't either. You've clearly never heard someone dying. That's not how it sounds."
You exchanged a playful smile, while he joined you, resting his back against the rock and enjoying the view.
"In all seriousness though," he went on, still struggling to ease out his breathing. "I might let you choose another hike after this one. It's a very nice view."
"Ha! I knew it!" you cheered, giggling.
Cassie and Amy were admiring the view over the loch as well, holding onto each other. Patrick was drinking some water a couple of steps away from you. But as you felt your body cooling down, you decided to use the last remnants of adrenaline of your long walk to climb on top of the rock you were resting upon, thus reaching the true top of the mountain. There would truly be nothing above you then but the blue sky and the occasional crows flying by. It wasn't a very elegant endeavour, as you struggled to climb up the rock. Harry hurried to grab your waist to steady you, scolding you as you slipped.
"What are you doing?" he asked with a deep frown, worry oozing from his deep voice.
"Climbing!"
"Y/N, it's not a good idea, it's slippery."
"Shut up and help me up!"
He rolled his eyes but helped you anyway. Because he could never say no to you anyway. Never had been able to since you were five years old and you asked to play with his favourite toy. So, he secured his hold on your waist, helping your movements to secure your climb, ready to catch you if you were to fall. But you didn't fall, instead reaching the top of the last rock to climb. You took a couple of steps on the top, to reach the highest part, now enjoying a view of both sides of the mountain, water and forests and steep sloops of mountains seeming to lay at your feet just for you. The wind was even more violent at the top, almost deafening, but you didn't mind. You felt so confident for some reason, your usual problems seeming millions of miles away. Standing there, at the top of Ben A'an, it felt like you had reached the top of the world itself. You let out a laugh as you opened your arms wide, letting the wind blow against you with all its strength, turning your face up towards the sun to let its warmth bloom across your cheeks.
And down the rock, still on the path, Harry was looking up at you, listening to your laugh carried across the sky by the strong wind. He took in your dishevelled looks after your climb, and the way the wind caught in your jacket, blowing it away from your body. The way the sun got caught on your skin, and the way your lips split in a glowing smile. A thin layer of sweat glistened on your face, illuminated by the sun. And your carefree stance made you look absolutely unreal.
There was a deep rumble in his heart. A bright, luminous kind of aching that he had been trying hard to forget for years. And he had succeeded. After years of trying, he had made the feeling go away.
So why did he feel like this again now?
Looking at you with arms spread, embracing the world, it seemed, with a happy and free expression written on your features, he just couldn't stop the feeling from settling in his heart once more.
You were beautiful. Radiant. Something about you made him unable to look away. And he hated it. He hated the fact that he felt like this about you. But he couldn't help it. So, he stared at you as you laughed away in the wind, an uncontrollable yet fond smile on his face.
Sometimes he wondered how you could even be real.
And for a moment, he was so entranced in you that he didn't notice that Patrick was staring at you as well.
Harry helped you climb back down, a safe hold securing your movements, and you held onto his shoulders too for leverage. Landing in his arms, so close to him, made him fiercely blush, but he reckoned that if anyone noticed, he could always blame the wind.
But then he was your fake boyfriend for this week. Which meant that he was allowed to be this close to you. He was allowed to hold you for a moment longer than what was needed, and he could always claim that it was to keep up appearances, instead of him simply longing to have you close. And if he repeated this excuse enough times in his head, maybe, just maybe, he might believe in it himself too.
As your gazes met though, it was impossible for him to pretend, and reflexes came rushing back as Harry stepped away from you, an embarrassed blush blooming all the way up to the tip of his ears. You were distracted from his reaction though as Patrick handed you a bottle of water.
This time though, Harry didn't miss the way Patrick looked at you as you thanked him, accepting the water bottle. He didn't miss the way his gaze lingered for too long on your fingers wrapping around the plastic, nor the way he glimpsed at your lips as you brought the bottle to your lips.
When he felt his blood boiling in his veins, Harry attributed the symptom to mere annoyance. Because he hadn't travelled all the way from LA to Scotland for a week, lied to your parents, gotten dragged in all that mess, taken the risk to face his own mother's judgement about the whole ordeal too as your parents were close friends… to end up playing third wheel for you and Patrick. And that was all there was to it.
Maybe the way his heart stomped in his chest was a bit too violent for mere annoyance, but it wasn't a safe choice to call the feeling jealousy, after all.
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meta-squash · 4 years
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Brick Club 1.8.4 “Authority Gains Its Power”
“Fantine had not seen Javert since the day the mayor had saved her from him. Her sick brain could not grasp anything except that she was sure he had come for her.” This makes me wonder about Fantine’s grasp on time while she’s been ill. It’s been two months since she first fell ill, but it seems like she thinks it’s been almost no time.
“Javert did not say “Hurry up!” he said, “Hur-up!” No spelling could express the tone in which this was said it was no longer human speech; it was a howl.” FMA really doubling down on the wolf imagery here translating “rugissement” as howl instead of roar. I love it.
“To him Jean Valjean was a sort of mysterious and intangible antagonist, a shadowy wrestler with whom he had been struggling for five years, without being able to throw him. This arrest was not a beginning, but an end.” This line and the one from the beginning of the chapter about Fantine thinking Javert has come for her secures him once again as a sort of Angel Of Death for both of them. This arrest is the literal end for Fantine and the symbolic end for Madeleine-Valjean.
Also this line establishes just how much Madeleine’s real identity has consumed Javert’s thoughts in the past 5 years that he’s been a major community leader. It hasn’t just been a passing “huh, this guy really reminds me of that convict Valjean from Toulon” type thing for Javert. It’s been a sort of conflict and, probably since the cart incident at least, an obsession. It’s also interesting because it seems to establish Javert as believing that Valjean was his responsibility, and coming to that belief as soon as he learned about Valjean’s theft of Petit Gervais’ coin. Like, Valjean is not an antagonist he’s struggled with only since Madeleine became mayor and this person Javert maybe suspected suddenly became more high-profile, it’s an internal conflict he’s had since the robbery was reported, which probably wasn’t more than 6 months after its occurrence (I would assume). Javert’s wasn’t just obsessing over Madeleine possibly being Valjean because maybe finding a wanted convict would be good for his name or whatever, he was obsessing over it because he fully felt it was his responsibility to find this wanted man.
Jean Valjean is no longer Madeleine to the reader. Hugo’s narration only calls him Jean Valjean, the full name, this entire chapter. His old identity has been pulled away and he can no longer wrap M Madeleine around himself. And he’s only going to be Jean Valjean or Madeleine for another chapter; the next time we see him after that, he’ll be Prisoner Number 9430. For a long time in the narration he was Madeleine, then he was just “the man” and variations thereupon, then he was both “Madeleine” and “Valjean” and now he is only Valjean.
The weirdest thing in this chapter is that Hugo blatantly states that Sister Simplice is in the room with them this entire time. She is here and she does absolutely nothing. I mean, this is understandable. Not only is she a woman, but she also doesn’t have any sort of leverage over either of them in any other way. She’s just a nun, just a woman of the church (and not even a woman, according to Hugo, she’s something else entirely), and she can’t really do anything to stop Valjean’s arrest or appeal to Javert or anything. But in the next chapter Javert is literally stopped from entering by Simplice’s Authority of Religiosity. So why isn’t he stopped by her religiosity here? Because this is a mirror of Fantine in 1.5.13, begging Javert for mercy and Javert telling her that “The Eternal Father in person couldn’t help you now.” Again, the law is above god here, and again he will not be moved to mercy, even by god.
“She saw the spy Javert seize the mayor by the collar: she saw the mayor bow his head. The world seemed to vanish before her eyes. Javert, in fact, had taken Jean Valjean by the collar.”
This is pretty obvious, but Madeleine is literally turning into Valjean before Fantine’s eyes. I love the way that Hugo says it though. I get the sense that it’s not just that Javert is seeing Valjean as Valjean now, but that Madeleine’s entire demeanor has changed. So he’s literally not taking Madeleine by the collar, because his demeanor would have been Madeleine’s; he’s taking Valjean by the collar, because he’s dropped the Madeleine act (at least at this very moment).
“Aloud, speak aloud. People speak out loud to me.” Ugh god this line is just so self-serving and shitty. This isn’t Javert being morally righteous via the law or acting as society personified. This is just Javert being petty and shitty because he was humiliated by Madeleine before, and now he wants that personal power reversed.
“Javert stamped his foot.” Is this meant to be as childish as it sounds? This is a really intense moment, but Javert is weirdly powerless as both Valjean and Fantine start talking back in their own ways, refusing to go quietly.
“Miserable town, where convicts are magistrates and prostitutes are nursed like countesses! Ha, but all that will be changed, high time!” It’s so interesting that Javert says this now, because it’s revealed later that after Madeleine left, Montreuil-sur-Mer’s prosperity crumbled. Which means that the town will go back to being like any other poor, garrisoned town, with a prostitution trade and plenty of depths of depravity. And I think we’re supposed to think that without Madeleine there to run a system that helps to uphold the morals and productivity and prosperity of the town, it’ll just fall back into corruption. Except that all of that depravity already existed under Madeleine’s leadership, it was just hidden better than maybe it would be if the whole town was failing. So once he leaves, yes, probably the prostitutes and criminals etc will be treated the way Javert wants them to be treated, rather than with any sort of sympathy or willingness to listen and mediate that Madeleine maybe offered to some but not all.
Fantine’s death is, I think, the only death in the book that gets such a visceral description. M. Pontmercy is already dead when we see him, Eponine just puts her head on Marius’ knee, Gavroche’s death is fairly poetic, all of Les Amis get their deaths described but they’re all so quick it’s like a montage, Javert’s actual death isn’t described. Mabeuf’s death might be the closest in terms of intense description, but Fantine’s definitely is the most detailed. Also, we get more drowning imagery. If Javert is the personification of the Law and the justice system, he is part of what tosses the unfortunate into the night-sea of prison and the mud of poverty. She is drowning because what killed her is also what drowns the poor. And I think it’s interesting that she looks to each of them, trying to speak, but she can’t reach anyone. She can’t speak to Jean Valjean (note that he’s not Madeleine here) because she doesn’t know Jean Valjean, and he’s no longer her savior, she can’t speak to Javert because he will not bend and has no mercy, and she can’t speak to the nun because currently authority will not bow to religion and she knows that because it didn’t bow to religion the last time. Now that Valjean has no power to free her, she can’t go to him. Also, I want to know the significance of her head hitting the headboard. Hugo doesn’t have her just fall back onto the pillow; she bangs her head first, like a strange sort of last injustice.
I also feel like the actual actions of Fantine’s death as well as Valjean whispering in her ear afterward have some sort of religious parallel that I’m not catching because I don’t know enough?
Also just ugh. Fantine dies knowing that Cosette is not out there, that Cosette is not anywhere near here, and that she will not see Cosette. It’s just such a horrible, blunt betrayal after she was so full of hope. I wonder if that’s why (later) Valjean can’t talk to Cosette about her? He doesn’t know how to confront the fact that, intentional or not, he had a hand in this betrayal? It makes sense that it is at this moment that she dies. She has been holding on for Cosette, the hope of seeing Cosette has been keeping her alive. Now, she has the realization that Cosette is not in M-sur-M, and then almost immediately after has the realization that Madeleine is not going to be able to go and retrieve Cosette.
“Jean Valjean put his hand on that of Javert, which was holding him, and opened it as he would have opened the hand of a child; then he said, “You have killed this woman.”
There’s so much child-behavior in Javert in this chapter, and I’m not sure what to make of it. The stamping of the foot, the sort of loud, frustrated insistence of respect, this opening of his hand, the way he yells at Valjean to listen to him or it’s the handcuffs and Valjean just ignores him. Javert is so impatient here and Valjean is so grave and calm. But that’s how it seems to be from now on. @everyonewasabird​ talked in his last post about how this is actually where Javert’s fall is, or at least where it begins. I totally agree with that, because it’s also where his grave, stable behavior starts to falter. In the last chapter, he was gleeful. In this chapter, he’s impatient. In Paris, we won’t see him display behavior this extreme until he’s at the barricade, but his behavior still seems different from the Javert we originally met. Much as I adore the “Would you like my hat?” line, it’s so dramatic and, I don’t know, sort of smug? Which I could see this current Javert doing, but not Javert from 1.6.2 or earlier. This whole episode has caused, as Hugo said, an inner earthquake for Javert, and I think it literally changes his entire personality. Not drastically, nothing crazy, but it does what an earthquake might do: it shifts some things around, changes his inner terrain just enough that it looks totally familiar but the ground he’s walking on is just a little rougher than before.
I’m so glad my post from a couple chapters ago included that comment about Javert and Valjean’s back-and-forth conflict because! This shift in power! Now it’s Valjean who is righteous and Valjean that is terrifying and Valjean that has the control! This chapter is just a fencing match between the two of them. Valjean starts off mildly more powerful: Javert doesn’t touch him while Fantine’s eyes are closed; it’s only when she opens them again that he again has the power over her and over Valljean. He takes Valjean by the collar and Valjean doesn’t attempt to struggle or get free. Once Fantine is dead, Valjean again assumes control and opens Javert’s hand like it’s nothing. I sort of feel like he still kind of retains the upper hand (at least morally) even at the very end when he gives himself up to Javert’s disposal. (Also, it’s interesting that Valjean has the control when Fantine isn’t looking, but Javert has control when she is. Not sure what to make of that.)
Javert’s retreat to the door is so odd. It feels so calm and detached. He doesn’t actually seem frightened or threatened by Valjean’s diy truncheon. I wonder if this is Javert’s version of the way that Valjean does things on autopilot when he’s in shock. Everything that’s happening is just so stunning that when Valjean moves away from him, Javert just automatically moves to the door. And his decision not to call the guard feels like he’s making excuses? It’s pretty obvious at this point that Valjean isn’t going to move from Fantine’s bedside until he’s ready. Except that at this point, Valjean is the one with the control, and the conflict is between him and Javert. Calling the guard adds another element and upsets the balance.
“His iron bar in hand, Jean Valjean walked slowly toward Fantine’s bed. On reaching it, he turned and said to Javert in a voice that could scarcely be heard, “I advise you not to disturb me now.” Nothing is more certain than the fact that Javert shuddered.” My first thought is: I don’t know what to make of this? Is Javert scared? Overwhelmed? Confused? Feeling Valjean’s authority? My second thought is: this is the start of Javert’s eventual change at the end of the novel. He cannot admit it to himself here, but he’s seeing Valjean act with the same selflessness and mercy that he’ll see with himself at the barricades and Marius at the sewers. His inner change can’t happen until then, but I wonder if this affects his later ability to change how he sees Valjean.
Fantine does get, like, the closest thing to a happy ending that any of the dead people in this book can get. Whatever Valjean tells or promises her, her spirit seems to hear and smiles. She suffers so much at the hands of society, at the hands of everyone, and she dies in betrayal and misery. It’s like the least Hugo could do was give her soul some sort of happiness after the fact.
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lemonz-and-limez · 4 years
Text
The Fowler Nowitzki Disturbance
@sssyzygy1 this is for you, my love ❤️
Prompt: What if Amy hadn't been so peaceable with Ramona in 11x1
Amy set her jaw so tight she was sure it was going to snap from the pressure. Walking across the cafeteria towards the woman who tried to steal Sheldon from her brought back all the anger she suppressed during her time in New Jersey. The audacity of that infernal woman! What had Ramona been thinking anyway? She should have known better than to think Sheldon was the type of man who would betray his long time girlfriend like that.
As she approached the table, Amy was at war with herself. What was she going to do? A part of her wanted to slap Ramona silly, but another part of her just wanted answers. No matter what, she had to decide; she was running out of time to come up with a game plan.
"Dr. Nowitzki?" Amy called as she came to a stop in front of Ramona.
The woman was looked startled by Amy's presence. "Oh, Dr. Fowler… hello," Ramona stuttered, setting her phone down onto the food tray in front of her.
Amy stood silent for a moment. "Do you mind if I sit?" she asked, gesturing to the empty chair in front of Ramona. The blonde nodded hesitantly. Amy had no idea what she was going to say to this woman as she sat across from her. Had Sheldon been any other man – a weaker man – he would have probably fallen for Ramona's trap. Amy was grateful that he wasn't, but she was extremely upset that Ramona had put his fidelity to the test like that. As was Sheldon, for that matter.
Resting her hands in front of her, Amy broke the awkward silence with one word, "why?"
Ramona's brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"
"Why did you kiss him? Why pursue him even though you knew he was in a relationship?" Amy kept her voice low so as to not be heard by those around her. She so desperately wanted to raise her voice, yell at this woman. After all, she had been waiting for months to do so. But she could feel Sheldon and the rest of his friends staring at her back, watching her every move.
"Look," Ramona put her hands up almost in surrender. "I'm sorry I kissed him; it was a spur of the moment decision… I wasn't thinking."
Amy set her jaw tight. She wasn't exactly happy with that answer. "What exactly were you hoping to achieve? That Sheldon would suddenly realize he had feelings for you?"
The blond stuttered for a moment. "I mean, yeah. I've admired him ever since grad school; I felt something between us eight years ago. I thought maybe we could make it work…romantically."
Amy's urge to slap this woman grew exponentially. "And even though you knew he was unavailable, you tried to lure him in anyway. What is wrong with you?" Amy's voice was rising now, ever so slightly.
"Dr. Fowler, Sheldon is a fine physical specimen, surely you know that. I thought it only made sense that he…" Ramona paused and eyed Amy up and down.
"What?" Amy challenged.
"Be with someone who was in the same league as him in the looks department." Despite her calm demeanor up until that point, Ramona was smug now. Too smug.
Amy's anger blazed, her eyes flared with rage. Ramona didn't think Amy was good enough for Sheldon, physically. A part of her simply wanted to run away, avoid the inevitable hurt this woman was going to cause. But her rage overpowered and squandered any thought of retreat.
Without thinking, without using her superior reasoning, Amy just acted on instinct. It happened so fast, she barely registered what she had done. Ramona held her cheek, and her mouth was agape with shock. Amy had slapped her. And looking into the offended eyes of Ramona, she couldn't help but smirk.
In retrospect, it should have been no surprise that the other woman would retaliate. It was like all of those fights Amy had witnessed in high school. One moment everything was calm; the next, two people were going at it, rolling around on the floor. There was the distant sound of gasps and screams from onlookers in the cafeteria, but Amy paid them no mind.
Both Ramona and Amy had landed solid punches, and Amy was honestly surprised the former Olympic swimmer hadn't knocked her out. So much for an "athlete". Still. Amy didn't know how much longer she could do this for; she needed to quickly turn the tide. She threw another punch, this time with her left hand, her non-dominant hand. The force of the impact knocked Ramona back, but that wasn't all. MeeMaw's ring had cut her cheek as well, leaving an angry red streak in its wake.
With Ramona's brief second of defenselessness, Amy seized the opportunity to take the upper hand. Much like Penny had tackled Sheldon that one time they had game night, Amy was on top of Ramona in a heartbeat. The odds were now in her favor.
All Amy could see was red as she landed three more punches. It was overkill, she knew that, but this woman had tried to take the most important thing away from her. She wasn't going to let her off easily.
Suddenly, there were hands under her arms, and they pulled her off of Ramona. Who groaned as Amy was pulled off of her.
"Amy, stop," Sheldon said once he had steadied her on her feet.
Looking down, Amy watched Howard and Raj lift Ramona off the ground. Her nose was bleeding, as was her cheek, that a black eye was starting to form. Amy was too proud of herself, given that she had done that to her.
Everyone in the cafeteria had gathered around to watch the commotion. And everyone continued to stare as all the parties involved stood around awkwardly.
"What is going on here?!" President Sibert bellowed, cutting through the crowd to the inner circle. "Dr. Fowler, Dr. Nowitzki, what is the meaning of this?!"
Amy and Ramona glared at each other. "Oh, nothing much," Ramona laughed sarcastically. "Just Dr. Fowler assaulted me."
President Sibert looked at Amy with questioning eyes, demanding an answer. And she wasted no time. "You kissed my fiancé!"
There was a collective gasp as all eyes turned to Ramona. "Game over, bitch," Amy thought to herself with a sly smirk.
But it appeared that the blonde wasn't done. "He should be glad I did. At least now he knows what a real kiss feels like," Ramona insulted.
Amy lurched forward, ready to attack again, but Sheldon held her back by a hand on her chest. He pulled her against him and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Don't. She's not worth it."
Sibert stood between the two parties with both arms extended outwards. "Alright, look, I don't know exactly what happened to lead up to this, but it better not happen again," he warned. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Sir," both Ramona and Amy mumbled.
"Good." Sibert nodded sharply. "I'll let you off with a warning this time, but if it happens again, you will have to answer to HR." He paused a moment to make sure everyone understood him.
"I expected better from both of you," Sibert said before turning on his heels and walking away.
Amy dipped her head; the shame of what she'd done had caught up with her. She didn't have violent outbursts often, but when she did, she felt terrible about them. But this went above and beyond anything she had ever done before. And she felt bad. Even if Ramona did kind of deserve it.
Raj had led Ramona away before any more words could be exchanged between her and Amy.
And just as the guilt and embarrassment were catching up with her, so was the pain. Her hand throbbed, her head throbbed, every fiber of her being throbbed. Amy reached up to touch her face, only to find her glasses were missing. Apparently, they had been knocked off and broken in the scramble. Leonard stood in front of her with an outstretched arm, her broken spectacles in hand. Sheldon reached around her shoulder and took them from him before she could. She could assess the damage later.
"Come on," Sheldon spoke quietly, taking her hand and leading her out of the cafeteria. All the bystanders had mostly dispersed and carried on about their day, but Amy could still hear the mumbling and snide comments they were making from their tables.
Sheldon wasn't taking her to the nurse's office as Amy initially thought he was. Instead, they winded their way through the corridors and hallways to his office.
"What are we doing here? Why didn't we go to the nurse's office?" Amy asked as Sheldon shut and locked the door.
Her fiancé sighed. "I'm going to clean you up a bit, and then Leonard is going to take us to urgent care," he explained, barely making eye contact with her. In fact, he turned away so quickly, Amy was beginning to wonder if he was mad at her.
She stood in the middle of his office. Her eyes wandering around the blank, emotionless workspace he had created for himself. Amy desperately needed a chair, and ultimately she ended up nearly collapsing in one in front of his desk.
Sheldon looked back at her when he heard the sound she made as she sat down. A combination of hiss and whimper. It must have sounded pathetic because he looked at her with such pity as he came to kneel in front of her. He set a couple of ice packs and a first aid kit down on his desk next to him.
Despite predominantly hitting with her right hand, Amy was cradling her left. The only one she had really gotten a solid punch with. Sheldon's eyes questioned her silently, his hands outstretched for her left. Amy complied, letting him brush his fingers over her bruised knuckles.
However, when he started to take off her ring, she pulled her hand back as a sign of protest. The ring came off anyway.
"Your hand is starting to swell," he told her. "I don't want to have the ring cut off in order to save your finger."
Of course, Amy already knew the reasoning behind *why* he had to take the ring off. But having just gotten out of a literal fight for what the ring represented, she supposed she was just feeling a little overprotective.
Sheldon grabbed one of the ice packs from his desk and held it against her hand. The cold felt amazing against the bruised flesh. He instructed her to hold the pack in place with her right hand, which she did happily. Her right needed just as much love as her left hand.
Amy felt her fiancé's eyes on her. He was studying her face very carefully, taking in everything that Ramona had done to her. But Amy didn't need to see; she could feel it. Her head was pounding with what was one of the worst headaches of her life.
Thankfully, Sheldon handled everything he did with care. He was gentle when he pressed the gauze against her split lip and when he held the other ice pack against her cheek where she had taken a pretty hard hit.
The silence was thick, heavy as Sheldon continued to kneel in front of her as he tended to her wounds. Amy thought he would be scolding her by now. But he was unusually quiet, he had been since they arrived in his office.
"Sheldon," Amy started.
He shook his head. "Shhh, it's ok, you don't need to say anything."
Amy shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with Sheldon's quick dismissal. "No, I do," she protested. "What I did today… it was an embarrassment, not only to me but to you as well. I'm sorry." Her head dipped, and she suddenly because overly interested in the blue ice pack.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sheldon follow her eyes with his head. "Amy, I don't know what she said to you, but you appeared to be having a calm discussion before all hell broke loose. What happened?"
She shrugged, not wanting to tell him what Ramona had said about her. Sheldon wasn't buying her silence. "Amy? What did she say? Obviously, something bad enough that you felt you needed to physically retaliate."
Some of her hair had fallen in front of her face, caging her head in a protective little cocoon. In a very uncharacteristic manner, she felt Sheldon brush some of it back behind her ear. "It's ok, Amy, I'm not mad. You can tell me," he assured her, his voice soft and soothing.
Amy shook her head. "All I wanted was an answer as to why she did it. Why she tried to take you from me." The hand that had brushed back her hair was now rubbing up and down her arm, assuring her it was ok to continue. "She said she thought you two had a connection back when she was still a grad student and was hoping that you would take an interest in her… romantically. I asked why she continued to pursue you even after she found out you were in a relationship, and-"Amy stopped abruptly. What Ramona had said next irritated one of Amy's biggest insecurities concerning her relationship with Sheldon.
"What did she say?" Sheldon questioned.
With a deep breath, she replied, "she said that you should probably be with someone who is in the same league as you physically."
Sheldon opened and closed his mouth a few times, and he shook his head at the absurdity of it all. He remained silent as he rose up and sat in the chair next to her. He readjusted the ice pack against her cheek as it was jostled with his movement, but when he settled in, he stared at her intensely. "Amy, you know that's a load of malarkey, right?"
"I mean logically, yes, I do. It's just that-"Sheldon cut her off before she could continue.
"Don't. Amy, we're not even going to go there. You're beautiful to me, always have been. You're the only woman I've ever looked at twice, the only woman who has, quite literally, gotten my physical attention." Amy blushed and looked down again, but he pulled her back to him with a finger under her chin. "If I was interested in a relationship with someone that looked like Ramona, I would have… eight years ago. I don't, and I never did. Even after she came back into my life."
A smile tugged at her lips. "Thank you, Sheldon," Amy whispered.
"Ramona will never compare to you, Amy, I can promise you that." Sheldon pulled one of her hands out from the ice pack. His fingers brushed over her bruised knuckles. "Does it hurt?" He asked.
"A little," she responded. "But that's what I get for punching someone."
Sheldon grinned. "I must say, Amy, I didn't know you could throw punches like that."
"Believe me, I didn't either," Amy said, but then shook her head. "I don't know what came over me. I just got so mad, I wasn't thinking."
"Amy," he started, pulling away both ice packs and setting them back on his desk. "You felt threatened by her. It's only logical that you would have some kind of knee jerk reaction."
"I know that," Amy sighed. "In the moment, it felt like a good idea, but now it's just…"
"Embarrassing?"
"Yes," Amy nodded adamantly. "Not only have I humiliated myself, now the entire university knows another woman kissed you. No one is going to forget that anytime soon."
"I think that is more damaging to Ramona than it is to us, don't you think? She's the one who kissed a taken man, not you."
He made a valid point. After Amy had shouted what Ramona had done, incriminating looks filled the cafeteria. In a way, her actions had been justified, even if they did almost land her in Mrs. Davis office.
"She kind of deserved it, didn't she," Amy smirked, wincing slightly as her cheek bone protested.
Sheldon leaned over and pressed the lightest of kisses to the angry bruise on her face. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought of telling Penny to do the exact same thing," he said playfully, kissing her again, this time on her forehead as he stood up.
Once again, Amy watched him move about the small space. Putting the ice packs back in the mini-fridge. Cleaning and packing up the first aid kit. He was always so methodical, always knowing exactly what he was doing.
"Sheldon?" she called him just as he turned back to her.
"Hm?"
She stood up and walked over to where he stood near the door. "Thank you," she whispered, carefully wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him.
Sheldon chuckled. "For what? Taking care of your injuries? Because that was just me performing my duties as a good fiancé."
"No," she pulled back to look at him. "For picking me."
He smiled that smile he only gave to her. The one that told her he loved her. He took her face in his hands, carefully making sure he didn't agitate any of her injuries. "I will always pick you," he promised.
Sheldon tugged on her arms a bit, and at first, Amy assumed it was to break her hold on him, so she complied. It surprised her when he took her hands in his and brought them up to his mouth, tenderly kissing her bruised knuckles. It was so out of character for him, but Amy couldn't bring herself to care. She felt so grateful to him.
He was a man worth punching for.
It was a knock at the door that broke the couple apart. Since he had locked it before, Sheldon had to walk away to open it. It was Leonard.
"Hey, are you guys ready to go? I set up an appointment online at the urgent care clinic," Leonard asked, looking between the two of them, desperately trying to not stare at Amy's injuries.
Sheldon nodded curtly. "Yes, we're ready. Did you gather Amy's belongings like I requested?"
Leonard shook his head in confirmation then informed them he would wait for them in the car.
"You asked him to get my stuff?" Amy asked as Sheldon turned back to her.
"When the fight broke out, I knew you were going to need to be evaluated. And you know how I don't trust the nurse. I also knew you would be in no condition to drive, so I told Leonard to get your things and be ready." Sheldon explained.
"You're the best fiancé, you know that?"
Sheldon seemed pretty proud of himself. "I am aware, but I am the best at a lot of things. Surely you know that by now," He quipped.
Amy couldn't help but roll her eyes, "of course, Sheldon."
Sheldon took her hand to walk with her to Leonard's car. Being on her feet again proved no easy task, and Amy was thankful for the support he provided when she felt a little light-headed. They passed by an office, one with the door wide open. Sheldon paid it no mind and kept right on walking, but Amy had managed to make brief eye contact with the inhabitant. It was only a few seconds, but she managed to convey everything she wanted the person to know.
Inside the office, the coldhearted and angry eyes of Ramona Nowitzki glared back at Amy. But with Sheldon's fingers laced through hers, and the confidence that he would never choose someone else reinvigorated within her, Amy knew she had won. Amy Farrah Fowler, the one who had always been bullied in school and who never got the guy, had finally come out on top. And she had done so with the best possible person for her by her side.
Ramona could stare all she wanted to, but Sheldon Cooper would always be hers.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I'm going through a lot right now and your responses make me smile on days I didn't think possible. Seriously, I cannot thank you all enough.
Stay safe everyone!
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