#Their dynamic in my head reminds me 2 much of My own friendships n viewing that as romantic feels pretty strange

[kirbyliker12]

😁h

[utterlyinevitable]

The Conference (Part 9)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 3.7k Rating: T+ Warning: Some cursing Summary: It’s the evening after the keynote and they go out for a civil dinner date.

A/N: shout out to ruby @starrystarrytrouble for reminding me people actually like reading this mess 💕

________________________________________

After we finished up the panel I stuck around the conference hall to network whilst Ethan had ditched the crowd at the first opportunity he got, heading back to our hotel room and venturing away from the pecking vultures. To be honest, I didn’t really blame him. Everyone wanted a piece of the poor, well-endowed man. 

A couple hours later, I shuffled back into our apartment. My aching feet somehow prevailed without causing me to collapse on the odd geometric carpet floor, or ditching my heels along the way and walking barefoot like some uncultured frosh stumbling home at 3AM. Once through the heavy metal plated door, I headed straight to my room, not throwing a single pleasantry towards Ethan in the seating area. From what I could tell he was typing furiously on his laptop after nursing a scotch - the empty crystal tumbler on the table was a dead giveaway. 

The anxiety and delirium inducing stress of the day lifted the second my kinda-sweaty body collapsed onto the private armchair in my room, clutching its aqua-colored arms and sinking into the velvet cushion. Staring out at the familiar skyline my mind started to replay the happenings of the day; every little thing that happened - from the confidence I felt during our speech, to the way that asshole called me out, and how Ethan stood up for me every step of the way. How proud he was even if he relayed the sentiment in such small words. 

We survived today. We haven’t strangled each other nor suffered any little deaths. All that’s left for this trip is the tour we have tomorrow morning, and then we’ll be on our way back to Edenbrook. Back to the way things were… 

Somehow my tired and self destructive brain decided it wanted to revel in the memories of the last few days. Thinking about all the non-work things that happened this trip. Thinking of all the words shared, and the blast from the past. And the revelation that little adventure birthed. 

Fuck me...

Things are weird. Like, so weird. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m even thinking this… but I miss him. Today showed me how great we are together! Professionally and as friends. We’re the dynamic duo: Ramsey and his Rookie. His. I - 

I need to stop thinking that. 

I belong to myself. I do what I want when I want and with whom I want. 

And so does he. And that’s why I walked away. I’m- 

I’m still getting over him. 

While simultaneously trying to get under him… 

Thoughts wandered back to Ryan and how long it took me to get over the detrimental ‘what if’s of him. If I held on tighter and longer and didn’t get in the way of myself back then - if one thing was different - everything could be different. 

A small, revelatory gasp escaped me. 

I didn’t want things to be different. 

After eight fucking years I finally understood. 

If I didn’t love and lose Ryan I never would have found my way to Boston. To Ethan. And here - knowing what I do and having all the experiences of the last few months - I couldn’t continue a life without knowing Ethan Ramsey. 

I’m going to do whatever I can to repair our friendship. 

I changed my clothes into something not requiring heels - black skinny jeans, a blouse and my trusty Chelsea boots - and my hair pulled back into a bun. Simple, sleek, and completely me. No pomp and circumstance, or hiding behind anything. Just me, making an effort.  

With all the determination I could muster I sauntered into the living room where I assumed Ethan would still be. 

I was right; he hadn’t changed positions at all. Sitting there on the couch, his feet up on the gaudy footstool with his laptop perched on his lap, tortoise-patterned glasses framing his face, and furiously typing on the keyboard. 

“So...” I trailed awkwardly to break the tension surrounding him, leaning against the wall with my hands stuffed in my armpits. “What do you want to do for dinner?” 

“Oh,” He planted his feet on the floor and turned to face me fully, moving his laptop off of him and folding his arms in his lap. “Uh, well-”

Quickly I added, “If you’d rather eat alone it’s fine by me. I was thinking of grabbing pizza at John’s.” 

Ethan nodded in response, saying, “Sounds good.”

“Cool,” I nodded back. “You ready or…?”

“Let me grab my things,” he stood, collected his things and headed to his room.

Less than two minutes later we headed out of the apartment together, walking side by side. Though this time wasn’t like earlier. There wasn’t the blind determination and need to impress like this morning. Right now we were two people who used to know one another going out to dinner in a spectacular converted synagogue.  

***

For anyone who doesn’t know John’s, it’s a local family-style pizza joint. There’s three restaurants around the city and the Times Square location is by far the best. Every time I have a hot minute to spare I try to go - the stained glass and craftsmanship of the building is everything! But you don’t want to hear about that… and neither did Ethan when I tried to fill the silence during our walk with all the reasons to love this place. For some reason he preferred to barge and weave in silence. 

Whatever. 

Lucky enough he was more chatty once we were seated. 

Our table was in the mezzanine with not much of a view besides the stone staircase in the corner and the large dome towering above. The dim lighting complimented the deep wooden table and beige upholstered seating. 

We ordered. And without the menu to keep our attention, I tried my hand at conversation once more.  

“Be honest, how did we do?”

Looking me in the eyes, ones that mirrored mine, showed such confidence and pride as he said his next words;

“You handled it well, Becca.” There was a tug at the corners of his mouth that pulled at my own. I was about to get a rare Ramsey smile - one I’ve been devoid of for far too long. 

“Dare I even say, like a natural.” 

I got to revel in the small compliment for a few moments as the server brought over our food - garlic knots, small veggie pizza, and a chef’s side salad. 

“I didn’t stutter too much or come off too young?” I couldn’t help but ask when it was just us two again. His opinion matters more than anyone else’s when it comes to my career. 

“You did.” 

“But you -” 

He cut me off, a slight shake of his big head, “You are young and this was your first keynote.” he clarified. And once more he said pridefully, “You did well.” 

After what felt like ages we shared a private smile. How he was able to bring me back into myself with a few words and stop fussing over imposter syndrome is a wonder.  

“Now eat some pizza and be happy.” 

My smile grew to a goofy one by the way he was looking at me, bemused. I refrained from sticking my tongue out and dug into a little slice of heaven. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

We dug in. Letting the flavors dance over my taste buds and make me only as happy as a New York slice could make me. No amount of fantastic sex could compare to pizza. Everything kind of disappeared - time stopped while the first bites settled in my tummy. Even Ethan looked to be enjoying it even though it’s not fancy smancy and artery clogging. 

Eventually I broke our companioned silence;

“How was lunch with Chief Fredericks?” I asked as I reached for a scrumptious ball of garlicy dough. 

The response left his lips so swiftly he didn’t even bother to look up from his plate; 

“Informative.”

I scoffed at the non-answer answer. 

My little grumble pulled him out of his bubble and he looked over at me - those damn baby blues challenging my thoughtfully indecent outburst. I just gave him a look right back. 

Ethan rolled his eyes and reached for another slice. Cutting it up with a fork and knife like an absolute weirdo.  

“He heard about the state budget cuts. Wanted to know what I think and if I’d be open to consult every so often.” 

“And?” I probed. 

“And what? You know how I feel about the future of Edenbrook.” 

“Yes. But if it goes under, what do you think you’ll do? I mean, everyone’s going to be throwing themselves at you.” 

I shoved some greenery in my gob to keep from adding the jarring truth. 

Everyone throws themselves at you. 

But who he gives his attention to is another story.  

Ethan shrugged ever so nonchalantly, “I haven’t thought about it.” 

The cavalier way he was speaking of his life after Edenbrook had thrown me off. Ethan was never this laid-back. It just wasn’t in his nature. There’s always something for this man to stress over. And Edenbrook’s closing should be his anxiety numero uno. 

But here he was, ever so calm. 

Hmm... 

“Are you in denial?” I said through a bite, fully anticipating another non-answer.  

“Maybe.” 

The way he said it took me aback. It was inherently honest and soft. All of his jagged features were rounded and there was a dulled little twinkle in his eye. 

Yeah, something’s going on here he’s not telling me.  

“Ethan -” 

And of course he deflects by turning the conversation on me; “What are you going to do?” 

Keeping from rolling my eyes at his obvious deflection from roaming into his feelings deeper, I replied, “Transfer my residency.” 

“Where?” 

“I…” - dammit - “don’t know.”

I haven’t really dwelled on what happens when the hospital closes. Obviously I need to finish residency if I want to be an actual practicing doctor. But the matching process can go screw itself. I don’t never ever want to do that again - all I cared about was matching with the best. And I did. So who’s the second best now? 

Is it wherever he goes?  

There’s just so much to think about, and I’d really rather not. Not until the last few nails are lined up against the coffin. 

“See,” he said with a hint of a lopsided grin, “Neither of us are ready to leave Edenbrook behind.” 

He was right. Of course he’s right. You didn’t need to be a diagnostician or even a doctor to see that we’re holding out hope of a buyout. 

I’ve just gotten to Edenbrook - only a few months into my dream career with my dream boss - and now, what? It’s all over before it even really began? No. I can’t accept that. 

There was a beat of silence as we both reached for the salad tongs, our hands brushing on accident. Both our eyes shot to bear witness to the contact, pulling us out of whatever ran wild through our thoughts and into this new, secluded moment. Everything around us dulled in the distance; the sounds swirling in the air muted and like a faint breeze. The warm lighting dimmed further, yet there was a spotlight on the salad bowl. The greens and reds and purples of the ruffage illuminated like it was the only thing that mattered. Like right now the earth was spinning just for this moment of closeness. 

Surprisingly, neither of us made a motion to move. His large hand overlapping my dainty fingers, the metal underneath the pads of my fingers warming up instantly. Electricity still coursed through me like the very first time. Except now it carried the memories of all the other times and places he set me aflame. 

I had to be the one to pull back. 

Almost, like it needed time to comprehend why the moment was intentionally ruined, the atmosphere around us began to revert back slightly. I could hear the idle chatter of those around us now. I could see the full picture of Ethan sitting across from me and all the individuals pattering around behind him. What couldn’t pretend to go back and hung off kilter was the beating in my chest - I could feel the electricity coursing through my veins and putting my heart through the ringer. 

Ethan made up for it by serving me. 

Does he know he still has such an effect on me?  

Quick! I needed to divert my thoughts off of the creeping flush and want from taking hold. So I went back to talking about work, our safe topic. 

“If you could work anywhere else in the world where would it be?” I asked.  

Ethan took a moment to think as he served himself some salad. He looked like he was actually thinking of an answer, maybe, for the first time he’s digested the hospital’s fate. 

“I think the next logical step would be the Mayo Clinic. They’re the best diagnostics in the world.” His eyes diverted back down to his plate and, after a beat, he added, “I also wouldn’t mind spending more time on missions with The WHO.”

My eyes searched his as they looked anywhere but where I was seated across from him, trying to find any sort of fault in his features. Something, anything, that I could hold onto. Nothing. Just stupid sincerity. The first fucking time in weeks he actually lets us talk about his time in the Amazon I can’t be mad at him.  

“You really enjoyed your time there, huh?” 

“It…” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. 

We’ve wandered into emotional territory and we both needed to tread carefully. I need to remember that he was never mine, as much as I felt like his from our first kiss. Need to recall that back then everything was drawn out in plain sight. Our end was always just that - an end. I Need to forgive. And try to remember that at one point he did try to fight for me, in his round-a-bout noncommittal way, and I was the one to end things officially. 

We both need to forgive. Especially if these are the last few months we have working together. 

“Was important work and I got to make a difference in the lives of thousands of indigenous people.” Ethan took another small pause for breath. When he continued, his deep baritone voice was lower, “Even if my intentions for going were skewed, it was an opportunity of a lifetime.” 

The simplest thing to do would be to nod, or eat - distract myself - or even change the subject. To try not to dwell on the implications of the statement. But I couldn’t. My body tensed and the warmth from moments before fled completely. 

We were silent. The brutal truth of why he left stinging just as much as it did the day I found out. 

Minutes, many many minutes passed with me finding solace in sweet savory carbs and Ethan pushing things around on his plate. 

Eager to change the subject there was one other topic of the day I was endlessly curious to know more about; 

“So, what’s the deal with Dr. Schwab?” 

“Don’t.” He dismissed, his authoritative voice seeping through just a tad. Though I’d like to think he’s smart enough not to use it with me outside of Edenbrook.  

“If you don’t tell me I’ll be forced to fabricate my own. I’m feeling a one-night stand gone wrong.” 

He looked back down at his food. 

“Oh my god, I’m right.” The smile that erupted literally took over my entire face. I could not hide it even if I tried.  

“Rebecca,” he tried to scold. 

“Now you have to tell me.” 

Just like earlier he turned the conversation back on me; “What’s with the frat boy?” 

“Ryan was never in a fraternity,” I responded, not hiding the grin that formed by putting Ethan in his place. “He’s a jock though.” 

He expelled a dry laugh, “I don’t think that’s any better.” He took a bite of his salad. Something radiated off of Ethan I couldn’t quite place. 

“We were close in high school,” I added for reasons I’m not quite sure why. Like that explained who Ryan was and why he came back into my life now, of all times.  

Ethan made a condescending, “mhm”. 

I rolled my eyes; “We had a thing for a while, okay.” I conceded. “We grew apart senior year, and then I went off to college. Last night was the first time we’ve spoken in, like, eight years.” 

Ethan made absolutely no reactions to the statement. Not even a stupid wiggle of his dumb perfect eyebrow. 

Is he even paying attention? 

“Now tell me about Schwab - sorry, Hilary,” I coaxed.  

Ethan’s hand flew to the bridge of his nose and up to carefully rub his eyes. 

This has gotta be good. 

I waited patiently and eagerly for this story. She couldn’t have been Ethan’s type and yet… What happened!? 

Eyes still shut tight, he grumbled, “What’s there to tell?” 

“Obviously something happened,” I couldn’t help but mock, “You slept together!” 

“Yes, and it’s something I do not like to dwell on.” 

“Sorry, buddy, but it looks like she does.” 

He groaned. Then shifted in his chair. Ethan took a long drag of his drink. And just when I figured he was going to wait this out until one of us changed the subject, he spoke; 

“A moment of weakness a few years back. And she was…” 

Ah! It’s actually happening! Ethan’s telling a salacious story! 

Shifting in my seat and placing my head in my hands to give him my full attention; My brows and smile grew as I finished the sentence for him, “Eager?” 

He scowled. 

“Jesus Christ, Ethan, just tell me what happened!” 

“I will not go into details.” 

“Fine.” I made a motion with my hand for him to continue without the juicy details. 

“Harper and I had just ended things for good not long before…” 

We ended up going back and forth for a while - Ethan not wanting to give anything up and me pulling as much as I could out of him. Long story short, Ethan was in a weird mental state after breaking up with Harper for the hundredth and final time in their six year relationship. He took up a conference opportunity to get away for two nights. Knowing how much he loves people, Ethan spent most of his time drowning his senses at the hotel bar. And low and behold, enter Hillary. 

From the sounds of it she was agreeable and very very forward. And Ethan was so lost in liquor that her voice didn’t irritate him as much as it did the next morning, and every single time they were in close proximity thereafter. Hillary had been going through a separation with her husband and needed a distraction just as bad. Really, who could blame her? Toting Ethan around would be the best revenge. 

The first night of his stay was fine - apparently the sex was satisfactory and she didn’t do anything remarkably memorable. Or so he says. I still think she looks like a squawker. He didn’t linger around long after before retreating to his hotel room. Then the next afternoon he was bored and weak and agreed to lunch. And lunch turned into drinks which turned into round two. In his room. And she didn’t leave. She wasn’t leaving. So Ethan bought an earlier plane ticket, and shook her awake before checking out. 

And every conference since she seems to want to entertain a rematch. 

“Oh my god, you’re horrible!” I exclaimed ever delightfully. This was hilarious! 

“I shouldn’t really be surprised. You flew to another continent after we slept together.” Shaking my head, a stupid little smirk on my lips I asked, “Have you ever had a one night stand before?” 

“Wha - of course I have!” 

“One’s that didn’t end up with you getting on a plane?” 

He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “If you must know, I’ve had my fair share in undergrad.” 

Now it was my turn to send a condescending “mhm” his way. 

We spoke longer and polished off our plates - not a single crumb remained. This was nice. Really nice getting to be close to him again and just being friends. Telling stories and exchanging playful jabs here and there. It’s how I fell for the idiot in the first place. 

Baby steps.     

-

Two hours after we arrived the server came over with the bill. 

She was friendly and lovely the whole meal. The best part about her style of service is that she let us just exist and didn’t check up all that often. When she did I could tell she overheard someone of the crap Ethan and I were spewing. She had one of those knowing smiles, like she was in on our jokes the entire time. 

“Can I just say, you guys are adorable,” she relayed with the brightest of smiles after setting the padfolio on the table, her hands clapping together excitedly. She looked like a child who had just met Santa Claus for the first time. 

L O L she thinks we’re together.  

At that I actually laughed out loud before informing, “We’re colleagues. In town for a conference.” 

The horror on the girl's face said it all. 

“Oh! My mistake, sorry. I can split the bill for you.” She reached for the pad where it sat in front of Ethan. 

He grabbed the black leather at the same time I spoke;  

"Nope, dinner’s on him.” I cupped a hand over my mouth and pointed a not-at-all discreet thumb towards him, “He'll get reimbursed," I laughed more to myself than anything. 

She smiles, a little relieved by my warmth, then turns to look at Ethan - silently asking permission or if it’s okay that he pays. Generally looking for some sort of direction from the old man.    

He shoots the server a look. Then forks over his credit card. 

As she saunters off, I smile at him sweetly, “Thank you.” 

Of course he rolls his eyes. But that rise in the corners of his mouth says so much more. 

________________________________________

A/N: sorry it’s shit. thank you for sticking with this series 💕 we’ve just got one chapter left! 

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[scandeniall]

mirrors for friends ch //3

pairing: TBD x reader

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wc: 1428

Ch 3: New Month, New Plans

“Mom and dad are back,” Atsumu jokes as you and Iwaizumi come back from your food run. Rolling your eyes you set the boxes of pizza you were holding on the table. “Mom, can ya make my plate.” Kurro’s laugh fills the living room as he chimes in. “Yeah please, we’re so hungry. Dad, can I have something to drink.” Iwaizumi throws the roll of paper towel at Kuroo to which he catches flawlessly. “I hate this band.”

“I second that Iwa.” You then proceed to wash your hands, taking some paper towel from Kuroo who had joined you in the kitchen. You ignore Kuroo’s quip about both of you loving the band as you maneuver around the tight kitchen. “How many slices do you want Tsumu,” you yell from across the bar separating your kitchen and living room. “Wait, are you really going to do it?” the drummer questions glancing up from his phone to see his three bandmates trying to move around the too small space. “If it keeps your ass from trying to squeeze in here too.” 

“I knew you loved me. 3 please.” With that, you move into your cabinet to grab 2 plates, turning around and running straight into Iwaizumi who is holding a can of beer. “Fuck, I’m so sorry Hajime,” you quickly look around you assess the damages. The majority of the liquid had gotten onto his shirt. “It was my fault (Y/N).” he shrugs as you attempt to dab a paper towel onto his shirt to soak up the liquid.

“So that's what it takes to get (Y/N) to rub on my chest. Noted” Kuroo says, eying the two of you with amusement. That causes you both to look over at your guitarist, you flicking him off as he laughs. “I’m kidding.” he answers, putting his hands up in defense. “Yo, (Y/N) it's cool. Don’t worry about it. We always told you that you needed a place with a bigger kitchen.” You shrug, “None of you have given me bigger kitchen money. Quite sad.” You pick up the plates that you'd placed down before brushing past your drummer to grab pizza for you and Atsumu. “Mind if I toss this in the washer. I can barely stay sane around you three with a dry shirt.”

“Sorry that you're the boring member,” Atsumu yells out. 

“Yeah, sorry grandpa. But, go ahead. Hurry up though so we can get this meeting started.” You decide to tease, not even bothering to face him. Iwaizumi shakes his head, before trying to squeeze past you. A warmth fills the spot on your lower back, from where the drummer placed his hand to gently move you out the way. “Trying to rush us out, I see.” Iwaizumi teases before disappearing through your hallway. “I always want you guys out of here. I hate you all”

A few minutes later the final member of your band makes his way back into your living room, this time missing a shirt. Your eyes trail across the tattoos that littered his body. The dragon that covered his deltoid and onto his chest seemed different. You made a mental note to ask him if he added something to it later. He settles on the bigger couch, next to Kuroo who had been stretched out and taking up your entire couch. He had missed the way you scolded the guitarist for getting more comfortable than you in your apartment, and only shifted once the drummer came. Kuroo’s refusal to move for you caused you to have to share your giant recliner with Atsumu, who claimed he's only sharing his favorite seat with you because you bought him his food. 

“Someone’s been working out, it's getting a little hot in here. Buff daddy Iwaizumi.” Kuroo whistles out, jokingly fanning himself.”

“You wish you were as buff as Iwa,” you say back. Kuroo waves you off before clapping his hands.”Now that we’re all together, let's talk. So April.” You lightly elbow the bassist next to you who was typing away at his phone” You return his glare with a sweet smile as he finishes his text, locking his phone.”

“I know Bauhaus and Dusk Til Dawn, both emailed and wanted us back sometime during the month,” you say. “I didn’t give them a date, because we needed to check our schedules. How's it looking for everyone.” You mentioned two of the bars you guys had performed at previously. This was how Mirrors For Friends ended every month, preparing for the upcoming one. The four of you would get together, and set dates for intended shows, youtube recording days, other social media, practices and everything. All around your regular schedules. Your schedule offered the most flexibility, as you only worked Monday-Friday, but the other guys were a little more complicated. Kurro had to juggle school, and his student teaching. Atsumu had to work around coaching and games, and then Iwaizumi had to work around tattooing and those appointments.

“Only major shit I have this month is a group project with some people in my cohort. I can just schedule that around. Its due at the end of the month”

“I’ll probably have a few more late practices near the second and last weekends. Tournaments are coming up. Gotta whip the little losers into shape.” Atsumu chimes in. “I’m always up for the late night shit though.”

“I have a few sessions this month,” Iwaizumi starts scrolling through his phone. “Most are during weekdays so those are fine, but I do have a few longer sessions. 4 hour tattoo on the first Saturday. Won’t be done until around 8.”

You nod, pulling out your own phone to share a group calendar. “Mark off days and times you guys know don’t work and we’ll go from there.” Two of the three men pull out their phones and you eye the third man next to you. 

“What? Ya told me to put my phone down.” Atsumu smirks from beside you and you withhold the urge to strangle him. “My lovely Iwa. Dearest Kuroo, can one of you please get our bandmate before I murder him,” you saw sweetly staring the blonde dead in the eyes.

“No murdering Atsumu”

“I’ll say you didn’t do it”

The other two members remark simultaneously. Kuroo is clearly the only real friend you have. “Tsumu, c’mon be serious. Please,” you decide to groan out flopping back on the giant chair. “Fine, only cause ya said please.” Atsumu pulls up his phone, flopping back as well resting his head on your shoulder as he fulfils your request. 

“Hey Iwa-” you hum out as you wait for the boys to finish. He gives you a quick look, signaling you to continue. “I think I want another tattoo this month, it's a small one. Think you can squeeze me in during my lunch break?” The shop he worked at was within walking distance of your office, so you heading over there on occasion wasn’t anything unusual. 

“Sure, just let me know when and I’ll make sure I’m already set up for you.”

“Thanks Iwa. You're the best. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Those words also weren’t unusual among you four. Even, to your most annoying bandmate, you tended to remind your bandmates that you did love them. They were your best friends and you all tend to exchange the words to one another. It was a shared sentiment, and was always understood. 

The rest of your evening continued as you all made out your relatively stable plan for the month. You’d all agreed on your performance days. One on the first friday, April 3rd and the other on the third saturday, April, 19. You’d triple checked with the boys to make sure, before quickly sending out your confirmations to the two bars. You all also agreed to get some youtube footage those days, vlogs, and just recording a few covers during your practices. At some point Iwaizumi’s newly clean and dried shirt returned, but not without Atsumu’s joke of missing the good view. 

Shortly after you found your own eyes drooping, your head found its way onto Atsumu’s shoulder.

“Aw look at our little leader. All sleepy n shit.” His annoying voice was enough to almost instantly wake you up.  You heard Kuroo coo something about you being adorable when you're not talking, and even Iwaizumi agreeing and laughing at your expense. “Only time (Y/N) is tolerable.” 

“Yeah, it's time for you all to get the hell out of my apartment.”

a/n: Just a little platonic band dynamic action here. This is me actually getting into plot now. I already wrote out the ideas for the next 2 chapters. Anyways, this au is actually so much fun to write, and while i love my other series and they're more read, this one makes me :). I love writing friendship dynamics so much. 

Anyways if someone wants to be on the taglist hmu.

[kekeslider]

so whats your take on the catra/adora situation

I have a lot of thoughts about this and I’m gonna just unload them all below the cut bc this is gonna get kind of meta-y and pretty discourse-y, and I know a lot of people are trying to avoid that right now. The long n short of it is that I still like the ship.

I’m actually a little baffled by how much people don’t like this pairing now. It all basically comes down to the belief that Catra is abusive towards Adora, but people seem to be conveniently leaving out that Catra has been abused by the Horde as much as Adora. I’d actually argue that Catra’s abuse was harsher, while Adora was the favored child. That’s not to say that Adora wasn’t abused, because she obviously was, but there are different kinds of abusive situations, and in homes with multiple children, there’s often one that the parent/guardian clearly favors and manipulates and the other that gets the brunt of the abuse. Adora was manipulated and lied to and who knows what else, while Catra was physically threatened and harmed, emotionally abused, and pitted against Adora, her own best friend. They have different experiences, and Catra’s experiences have clearly led to the survival instincts she has now. I’ll also point out that members of the crew have stated that Catra’s portrayal is influenced by their own experiences with abuse (source). So flatout saying Catra is abusive and Adora needs to cut ties and leave her rubs me the wrong way. I think Catra is on course for a big redemption arc, because I think people who have been in abusive situations themselves want to tell stories of abuse victims overcoming it.

So that’s sort of the basics of Catra and Adora’s abuse by the Horde, and people have ended up saying, well Adora got out, why can’t Catra? First I’d like to point out the irony of the fandom pitting Catra and Adora against each other in the same way Shadow Weaver did, holding Catra to Adora’s standard. But what makes Adora and Catra different here? There could be a lot of things, you could get into discussions about nature vs nurture, you could argue that Adora has an inherent goodness because she was destined to be She-ra or whatever. But in the end I think it comes down to the different ways they experienced abuse in the Horde. Adora got to switch to the side of good because she thought she was on the good side all along, that’s what the Horde convinced her of, and she didn’t know anything outside of what the Horde told her. Then she also had Shadow Weaver favoring her, and the respect of her superiors and peers, so her life in the Horde was, comparatively, not that bad. But Catra knew it was bad. I’ve seen people calling Catra evil based on her duh, you just figured that out? line. But doesn’t it make sense that Catra knew she was being abused, because she was being treated so much harsher than Adora was? It was in her face all the time, but like Adora, she didn’t know anything beyond the Horde. Abuse was her norm, and she developed certain survival instincts because of that.

But Adora offered Catra a way out right? And Catra knowingly refused, so Catra is evil, right?? This is where I think Catra’s character gets extra complex, because it starts delving into the psychology of abuse victims, and one of the things that’s pretty well known is that abuse victims will often refuse to leave their situation, even when given the chance. That’s what abusers do, they make their victims afraid to leave the stability of their situation, no matter how awful it is. The devil you know, yanno? Adora wasn’t exactly offering Catra safety, she was offering her the chance to join a weak rebellion against the group that was conquering the world, a rebellion which massively failed the last time it was attempted. And leaving the Horde, and then losing? That would make Catra’s situation so much worse.

There’s a lot you can get into with Catra’s motivations throughout the season, but I’ll leave the deep details to Catra-specific character metas. I sussed out 3 big motivations for her from my 1 viewing at the asscrack of dawn.

1. She’s being forced to act against Adora by Shadow Weaver, the woman who has directly abused her her whole life

2. She wants to take down Shadow Weaver as a form of revenge and surpass her in the process

3. She want to prove to everyone in the Horde that she’s powerful and capable without Adora around (reminder that Adora said displays of weakness were a no-no at the Horde, so it stands to reason that being the best and most powerful is a goal ingrained into them as cadets) because Catra has been pitted against and compared to Adora her whole life (this ties in to Catra’s sidekick remark).

None of this excuses her actions, but it does explain her backstory and allows the viewer to get inside Catra’s head and understand why she does the things she does. It deliberately paints her as a sympathetic villain, because you understand her, and it makes you want to root for her.

Catra being sympathetic is a big thing to me, because it’s done on purpose. They’ve planted the seeds for a big redemption arc, one that may run the course of the show, and that’s something I want to see happen. A well done redemption arc is incredible to watch play out. And I’ll remind everyone that the crew has pretty openly loved Catra as a character, and they’re very invested in her as a character, and I personally don’t see how a crew with abuse victims on their staff would create an abusive character and then care about her so much. That goes double for catradora, they’re all interested in them as a duo and post art and content that toes very closely to the line of ship art, and I can’t see abuse victims creating a show just to ship a character with her abuser.

When it comes to Catra and catradora, there’s a few big important things I think people are ignoring.

- Catra has all the groundwork for a bigass redemption arc. It’s something fans have been expecting and hoping for since the first info about the show was released

- In order to get a redemption arc, she needs to do something that needs redeeming. Think of season 1 as Catra’s villain origin story. A redemption arc has no payoff if we don’t see their misdeeds. But Catra’s misdeeds aren’t a case of Cool motive, still murder, because nothing she’s done so far has such long lasting effects. She attacked some people with the Horde, of course, but also keep in mind that this is a kids show, where things like that have to be exaggerated so kids can see that they’re doing Bad Things (remember that time Zuko burned down a whole village, kidnapped Aang, attacked them all multiple times? And he has THE redemption arc every other one is compared to)

- This is only the first season! There’s so much story left to tell, maybe more backstory for Catra, more flashbacks detailing her experiences, etc etc. There’s something like 39 episodes still guaranteed to come, and I’m not expecting season 4 Catra to be the same as season 1 Catra. She’s going to change, her relationship to Adora is going to change, and I want that change to be positive. That’s a big draw for catradora: positive character development

- The crew has stated multiple times that Catra and Adora’s friendship/relationship is very central to the story, and that definitely shows in s1. Telling people not to like this ship is telling them to not fully engage with one of the show’s main foci (and there are definitely positive moments within all the hurt we see. They love each other, in an environment that doesn’t want them to)

- I haven’t seen a single person say that Catra and Adora’s relationship as is would be healthy and perfect. Everyone knows they have stuff to work through. What I have seen is people caring about both of them as characters and friends, people who love each other and deserve to be happy. People WANT a redemption arc for Catra, and they’re shipping Redeemed!Catra/Adora. They’re looking ahead down the path of character development and hoping it leads to romance, because it very well could. One of the big reasons people latch on to ships like this is that it has so so much room for growth and development, for them as individuals, and them as a pair. I know it’s illegal to talk about vo/tron, but you can compare it to people who shipped k/ance and a//urance after season 1. Neither had healthy romantic dynamics in the first season, but people were looking forward to growth and development, and shipping that. The whole point is that you want to see characters grow together. Development is half the point of storytelling. Romantic ships where they basically start out all happy and good are dull because they don’t have the same space for character growth and development. They’re static, they’re boring.

- The crew of the show likes catradora! They care so much about these two characters and their bond, and I don’t see a crew of LGBT people making a romantically coded dynamic between 2 female characters, hyping it up, creating content of the two of them, just to have one be an evil abuser

This is also where I’ll point out that many other antagonistic characters have been much beloved by the fandom and part of majorly popular ships

- Zuko: Zutara & Zukka

- Bakugo: Kiribaku

- Sasuke: Sasunaru or w/e it is

And you’ll notice these are moooostly m/m ships, and people still stan them to this day. But catradora of course is f/f, and we know f/f ships are subjected to much higher criticism than m/m pairings. In fact, the defense for Zuko and Bakugo is their traumatic abuse backstory, so the same should apply for Catra.

I’m also going to say, at great risk to myself, that I think the discourse around this ship is mostly happening because the current She-ra fandom is largely made of of (ex) v/d fans, where discourse was basically a hobby. And for good reason, there was a lot of dumpster fires in that fandom and show, but I think it’s resulted in people coming into this fandom just chomping at the bit to jump on some discourse and be the most Unproblematic and Self-Righteous. Am I basically vaguing myself by saying that? Yeah, kinda, but I’ll have to stand by it. We’ve seen so little of this show and people are already making major decisions about what’s ok and what’s not because they’re coming off of a fandom with a pretty shitty crew, and they’re expected to be hurt again. But the She-ra crew isn’t the v/d crew, and they deserve the benefit of the doubt.

This got really rambly and stuff but the point is, I like catradora. I want to see them grow and heal and love each other, because I care about both characters. It isn’t about shipping an angsty abusive ship, it’s about wanting them to find each other again without the toxic influence of the Horde.