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c-aureus · 4 years ago

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My opinions on the relationship between Link and Zelda in BotW, and why I personally detest romantic BotW Zelink:

A strong title, I am aware. I'm aware of the risk this runs of causing a right shitstorm lol.

I'd like to preface this essay with the disclaimer that all of the following are merely my interpretations. It is completely fine if you disagree with me.

My views are not any more or less valid than anyone else's, and do not invalidate conflicting opinions.

Nevertheless, if you are an avid BotW Zelink shipper who does not wish to hear a great deal of criticism about this pairing, then I suggest you do not read this post.

If, however, you are curious to hear my opinions, then I merely request that you keep an open mind, and be respectful of everyone else's interpretation. I will admit that these interpretations are integral to my characterisations within my fanfic series.

OK, so. Firstly. I do not think that anyone can reasonably argue with the fact that Zelda treats Link AWFULLY in the earlier memories. Indeed, BotW makes a rather large point of showing just some of the ways Zelda mistreats Link.

For context, Link is appointed as Zelda's Royal Guard by her father, the King. It is, therefore, his sworn duty to protect her, and he doesn't really have any say in the matter. But I believe that he would be proud to serve his kingdom in this capacity.

Zelda, however, takes great offence to his presence. She takes out her frustration by constantly belittling and berating Link, (knowing that she will not face repercussions for her mistreatment due to their respective positions) and repeatedly trying to escape his escort, despite the fact that he is there for her safety, and despite his best efforts to be as unobtrusive as possible to her.

And then, when Link finds her, because he is devoted to his duty of protecting her, she berates him again.

For merely doing his job.

What Zelda is showing here is that she holds utter contempt for Link and his duty, and actively tries to make his job, and his life, miserable. I cannot imagine the stress Zelda's constant absconding would have on Link, given that if he fails his duty to keep her safe, it's his arse on the line. Plus the entirety of Hyrule's arse too, given Zelda's destiny that she needs to perform.

We know from Zelda's diary that Link, despite his blank facade, IS hurt by her blatantly hurtful actions, as is completely natural and normal in his circumstances.

Now, to be completely fair, I believe that Link is highly sympathetic to Zelda. He understands why she mistreats him, especially since Urbosa spells it out in her cutscene. He understands that Zelda is in an unenviable position, and that she is taking out her frustration and anger for not being able to live up to her destiny on him.

However, despite this understanding and sympathy, that does not mean that the hurt Zelda has caused him vanishes.

He has an explanation for her behaviour. But it is NOT an excuse.

So anyway. Zelda's behaviour continues until the Gerudo desert. Remember that Zelda fled from Link's protection (again) to go to the Gerudo Town, where Link is not allowed to set foot as a male. After he tracks her down to Vah Naboris (in the dead of night - dude must have been walking all day across a desert to reach her), Zelda's first reaction when she sees him is scorn. I can't imagine how hurtful that must be.

Anyway, the next morning, Zelda ditches him YET AGAIN, making her way across the desert alone.

When she is jumped by Yiga Assassins. Who come within moments of killing (or worse, capturing) her, until Link comes flying out of nowhere to save her.

(On a little side note, some people think this is where Zelda fell in love with him. And really, at this point, Zelda knows nothing about him, since she'd never before given him the time of day. She, at best, has a crush on the concept of a Saviour)

Now, fair play to Zelda in that after this pivotal moment, she changes her attitude and behaviour towards Link, even admitting to her previous faults in her diary. This shows a surprising maturity that contrasts her previous childishness.

However, again, this does not make all of the hurt she caused him just vanish.

Now, over the next months, I believe that Zelda and Link became very close friends. Especially given that Zelda was so starved for relationships. And they come to know each other very well, especially with Zelda sympathising with Link's lack of choice in his own destiny, similar to herself.

However, well... even after this point, Zelda still mistreats Link.

I'm referring primarily to the Frog Cutscene.

Now, to preface this, in this instance, I do not believe that Zelda is behaving maliciously to Link intentionally. I believe that she is trying to tease him.

However, her behaviour is not ideal.

In this cutscene, Link shows extreme discomfort with Zelda's insistence that he eat the live frog. This is especially significant, given his usual stoicness. The fact that Zelda causes this reaction means that he feels extremely strongly about this issue.

However, Zelda keeps insisting and pushing him, effectively taking her teasing too far, and causing Link more discomfort. Because who would want to eat a frog? (No offence to French people).

Now, coming from my own experience of having friends take teasing too far with me, and having unfortunately done the same with other people, I can say with absolute certainty that Zelda's behaviour here is not ok. Especially given Link's very apparent discomfort here.

However, there is also another aspect here that I've never seen anyone else mention.

Namely that, despite Zelda's wishes of friendship, she holds authority over Link, as Princess of the Kingdom.

As a Knight, he is duty bound to follow Zelda's orders and instructions. And one could argue that Zelda's insistence could be viewed in the context of her 'ordering' Link to eat the frog. Of course, I do not believe that this is her intention, but, from Link's perspective, there is definitely cause for reasonable doubt.

Which forces Link into the exceedingly awkward decision of having to refuse what MIGHT be an order from the Princess.

And, especially framed in the context of Zelda's previous immature, unfair behaviour towards him, he doesn't know if his refusal might cause Zelda to get all stroppy with him. Let alone other, more significant consequences that might arise from disobeying his superior.

And I feel sorry for Zelda here, seeing that she wants to view Link as a friend (or potentially more), however she must know that they are both bound by their respective positions at this point. Her behaviour is... inappropriate, and as sorry as I feel for her, that does not change the fact that she's dumping Link in an extraordinarily awkward position, and being very unfair to him.

Because, if Link does take issue with her behaviour, what can he do to stop it? Zelda is the princess, and he has no right to tell her what she can and cannot do.

Now, that is effectively the crux of my argument, however I will also note that I interpret Link to be extremely depressed in BotW, due to how much he has lost, and how he is grieving the deaths of well... everyone he's ever known, many of whom he cannot even remember. He's grieving the death of an entire civilisation, as well as people extremely close to him.

In such circumstances, it would be natural for him to resent the fact that Zelda did not awaken her power sooner, and resent Zelda's decision to have him resurrected, even in spite of him understanding the necessity of it.

Basically, whilst I interpret Link and Zelda to be very close, I am very strongly against the idea that Link would form romantic feelings for her, due to his formative impressions of her being filled with mistreatment and abuse. Whilst I do not doubt that he forgives her, the fact remains that first impressions are important. And Link's first, second, third... (and so on) impressions of Zelda are... unfavourable.

If this happened to me, then, perhaps with a healthy dose of sympathy and understanding, I could come to forgive the one who has mistreated me so extensively, as I believe Link does for Zelda.

However, I do not think that I could ever fall in love with them.

And, whilst this was not meant to involve my interpretations about Miphlink, I will say that during the whole time Zelda was abusing and disrespecting Link, Mipha was nothing but kind, accepting, caring and devoted towards him.

As such, if the sequel explicitly puts Link and Zelda into a romantic relationship, or even just strongly implies it, I will be...

Honestly, I'll be furious. Because this would run so completely contradictory to all of my interpretations about BotW and the characters.

I pray that they write with subtlety and leave reasonable room for interpretation.

Once again, these are only my interpretations. If you wish to add your own, then feel free. I'm all for having a reasonable, respectful and informed debate on the matter. However, please remain respectful of other opinions, whatever your interpretation is.

#botw #botw2 #loz botw #botw link #botw zelda #loz breath of the wild #zelda #link #miphlink #link x mipha #mipha #urbosa #lipha #long post

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alwaysmychoices · 4 years ago

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Ski Resort

Synopsis: After declaring her intention to leave medicine forever, Charlie must join the Diagnostics Team for one more case before Ethan will let her retire. But once they’re trapped in the ski resort, Charlie gets tangled in the mystery, and she begins to wonder if she should really leave medicine or if it’s time to come back.

Chapter 26 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 5.5k (sorry, I tried so hard to cut it down)

Rating: Teen

Also available on AO3 & Wattpad (link in Masterlist)

The drive to the ski resort was uncomfortably quiet. Ethan and Charlie didn't speak a word, not even when Baz tried to play car games or entertain the captive group with stories.

No, Ethan and Charlie weren't going to speak – or rather, Ethan wasn't going to speak until Charlie did, and Charlie wasn't going to say a thing.

The fight in Ethan's office had cooled to begrudging acceptance. Despite her objections, Charlie put on her coat, read the patient information, and piled in the car with the rest of the diagnostics team just as Ethan insisted. But her cooperation extended only that far.

Ethan was sure that she was furious in the back seat – so sure that he kept looking back to her in the rearview to see if her expression had soured any further.

But Ethan wasn't right about everything.

Charlie wasn't angry – or if she was, it was secondarily not primarily.

She was anxious.

Anxious to be back at work and interacting with critical patients when her confidence in herself and her skills had never been lower. Anxious to stand on the precipice of her entire future – for if she failed today, she wouldn't be a doctor, and if she didn't, she'd have to face fears buried deep in her soul.

It wasn't that she held her tongue because she would have hurled insults otherwise. She held her tongue because she simply couldn't bear to say anything at all.

June and Baz sensed the discomfort, though they were kind enough to not comment on it. Baz tried his best to lessen the uneasiness with music and diverting conversion, none of which stuck. June was more intrigued, maybe even suspicious.

They'd both been surprised when Charlie joined the expedition after her long absence, but Baz was much more willing to accept the sudden return and be thankful for it. June couldn't shake her curiosity.

After all, why had Charlie suddenly returned from leave for this one case? Why was the relationship between Charlie and Ethan, which had once been friendly, now so tense?

Being scrutinized only made Charlie feel worse.

It was a relief for all parties when they arrived at the ski resort.

Any other day, Charlie would have stopped and marveled at the sight.

Perfect, white snow coated the landscape and the resort. Smoke billowed from the central fireplace, promising warmth and comfort inside. Snow-capped trees climbed Mount Dagger and dotted the landscape. Even with layers and layers of footprints marring the snow and a large resort looming in the background, this place felt serene and untouched somehow.

It was so different from the heat and sunshine Charlie had grown up with.

Part of her wished she could have leaned into Ethan and marveled at the place, letting him tease her for her unfamiliarity and inexperience with snow. She realized that winter had only been pain and survival for them. She had the urge to change that somehow – to throw a snowball or challenge him to make snow angels.

But instead, Charlie just trudged along, keeping the urges to herself and remaining silent.

The owner, Rodney, was a friend of Ethan's. He greeted them all warmly and thanked them for their time. On the way to the patient's room, he offered charming anecdotes about Ethan's childhood and their friendship. Charlie wished she could have engaged more, but it was all becoming too real. In mere moments, she would be a working doctor again – a dream that had become a nightmare.

Paula and her son, Timothy, waited in their hotel room.

In the end, they weren't nearly as frightening as Charlie had imagined them. The entire drive, she morphed her patient experience into that of death and destruction, and she'd forgotten how mundane interactions could really be. Even Paula's defiance and complaints felt tame in the face of all Charlie had been through.

During the initial interview, Charlie didn't resume the active role she'd once had on the team. Instead, it was Ethan who drove the questioning, with June acting as his secondary. The team had found their new rhythm in her absence, and they seemed to know that Charlie was purposefully not stepping into her old shoes.

Ethan was disappointed.

To an outsider, she would have looked like a student rather than a member of the team. She stood in the back of the group, her mouth closed and ideas kept to herself. It could have read as disinterest, though Ethan highly doubted Charlie could confront a mystery and not be enthralled. No, it must have been something else. Anger maybe. Perhaps she wasn't ready, just as she'd warned him in the hospital.

During the interview, Ethan managed to look back at Charlie and examine her without anyone noticing.

And what he found prompted a sigh of relief.

She wasn't disinterested.

Charlie's eyes were bright and alive with curiosity. She was listening attentively, her expression changing slightly with each new piece of information. She must be cataloging it, saving it, and allowing it to simmer until it attached to a theory. Even if she wasn't speaking, she was here. She was part of the team, part of the future solution. He could see it in her now– the passion and empathy he'd recognized in her so early in her intern year.

He found himself hoping it would be enough to make her stay.

Enough to make her realize she wanted to stay.

It distracted him from the interview.

Not that he was missing much anyway. Paula, the patient, was particularly uncooperative. It took considerable prodding – and her son’s insistence – to get Paula to say anything at all.

But Ethan’s attention quickly returned when Paula's behavior suddenly shifted.

June and Baz talking to each other, quietly exposing the confusion amongst the team about Paula's bizarre symptoms. Nothing about the conversation was particularly unusual, but to a distrustful woman like Paula, it was enough to prove incompetence on the team's part.

With an eerie light in her eyes, Paula interrupted to say, "It sounds like you have no idea what you're talking about."

She said it with such airy mirth that the comment was unsettling.

Then, to the horror of everyone in the room, the formerly austere Paula's face split into a wild, frenzied laugh. Her posture had changed – so had her facial expressions. Ethan took a step closer and realized that the disturbing glimmer in her eyes was the dark of her pupil as it dilated.

The team looked at each other in horror and shock.

"Paula, are you feeling alright?" Charlie asked. These were the first unprompted words she'd spoken since the introductions.

"I feel great! Why the hell wouldn't I? I'm stuck on a mountain with a load of incompetent doctors!" Paula's voice dissolved into laughter. It was too loud. Too open. Too long.

The diagnostics team looked to each other, and in a silent consensus, they followed Ethan's lead to the hallway. Once the door closed behind them, they abandoned their polite, neutral expressions to show their true concern.

"It looks like a manic episode. If her brain trauma is extensive enough to cause that…." Ethan trailed off, only for Charlie to finish.

"We need to get her to a hospital as soon as possible. Can we call for a helicopter?"

“Doubtful,” Baz frowned, “During the interview, the storm was upgraded to a blizzard. We wouldn’t have time for a helicopter, and the roads are already being shut down.”

“But we just got here!” Charlie fought it, not that she was sure why she did. The entire drive up, the snow had gotten progressively worse. Even from inside Paula’s room, she could tell the weather was turning.

“Then we’re stuck here,” June announced, ignoring Charlie’s outburst, “We’ll have to monitor Paula all night in case her condition worsens.”

Charlie frowned.

This was not how she wanted her first case back to go.

The patient showed unusual symptoms and potential mania, all while they were trapped in a ski resort by a blizzard? This had death and destruction written all over it.

Had Ethan taken the time to consider it, he would have reached the same dim conclusion.

But fortunately for him, he was more distracted by managing the crisis. With little time before the snow made movement impossible to leave the lodge, Ethan decided to find the source of Paula’s rash on the mountain. Charlie objected on safety grounds, but Ethan went out anyway. In his absence, the team conducted a few tests and settled the room arrangements with Rodney. Ethan returned safely, just a bit cold and damp from the snow, and with the cause of the rash. It was poison sumac, he announced. Unrelated to the other symptoms, unfortunately, but at least they could rule other things out.

Only moments later, the blizzard captured the resort captured the resort and trapped the occupants inside.

To his surprise, Charlie wasn’t impressed by his discovery or his quick return. She was annoyed he’d gone out in the first place. And he suspected she was irritated to be here at all.

He wondered if he was pushing her too far, if his plan to show her the best parts of their job had been flawed. If he had been flawed.

If he was doing more harm than good.

Then June pulled out the hotel keys to present them to everyone.

There were four.

The extra room key stung.

It shouldn’t have.

Of course, they couldn’t stay in the same room on a work trip. He shouldn’t have expected anything different.

But something about it made him feel… distant from her.

Like he’d created a wall between them in this whole endeavor, a wall made physical by the separate rooms. Though he’d done it thousands of nights before, Ethan suddenly couldn’t imagine sleeping without her, her body warm beside him and her fragrant curls straying to his side of the bed. He wanted her to forgive him, though he wasn’t sure what for.

In an ideal world, they would have talked about it.

He would have checked on her.

But instead, in a whirlwind of arrangements and discussions, Ethan began his shift, and Charlie followed Baz and June to find their rooms.

Charlie hadn’t planned on staying, so she had nothing to unpack except for a phone charger from her purse and a laptop borrowed from Edenbrook. She didn’t relish the idea of sleeping in her bulky jeans or shivering in the cold night, but there was nothing she could do about that in a blizzard.

It was a relief to warm herself in a hot shower, but after, the room felt too lonely. Unsure what to do with herself, she searched for Baz and June. She found them both at the bar, which fortunately hadn’t been affected by the outside storm.

They sat by the fire with medical journals and drinks – and smores, in Baz’s case. When Charlie entered, they gave her their full attention.

They were genuinely happy to see her return.

They still believed in her, it seemed.

Not that she should be surprised, she reminded herself.

But she was a little.

She’d forgotten how it felt to be the prodigy, not the shattered impersonation of one.

Baz couldn’t contain his excitement and even went as far as to buy her bourbon in celebration, “I’m so happy you’re back! We’ve missed you, Charlie. It hasn’t been the same without you.”

“He tells the truth,” June confirmed, looking a little amused with her colleague’s enthusiasm.

Charlie didn’t know what to say, so she blushed and let Baz fill in the silence – not that he noticed. He had lots to say.

“To our star resident! You’ve been through hell and back, and we’re so proud of how far you’ve come. For you to have survived that and stand here ready to be a doctor again is brave, Charlie,” Baz emphasized in his toast, oblivious to the fact he was only making Charlie more nervous.

Charlie weakly raised her glass, tapping it against June’s and Baz’s.

June’s eyes settled on Charlie’s unsteady smile.

Which only made Charlie more unsteady.

“I can’t believe you’re really back and that Ethan didn’t even give us a warning! For weeks, he said you needed more time, and then, he surprised us. You two were probably in on it together,” Baz laughed good-naturedly, “So, are you back permanently now?”

I have no idea, she thought.

She didn’t know if she’d make it through this case, let alone if she’d take on another.

Her future was too uncertain, her confidence too shaken to answer.

“Um,” Charlie stammered, looking for an answer that didn’t expose her as a nervous wreck, “We’ll see how it works out with my remaining leave, I guess,” she answered noncommittally.

It was the wrong answer.

Too uncommitted. Not enough enthusiasm. Recognizable nerves.

It exposed something that Charlie wanted to hide. It showed how little she controlled this situation, how little she controlled everything. She didn’t know what would happen or what she wanted to happen. It was such a stark contrast from the determined, headstrong intern she’d once been.

If Baz noticed, he took it in stride and said he hoped she would be back full time soon. Then, he started telling her about all she’d missed – leaving out Levi, of course.

June noticed, though.

She sensed Charlie’s unease, and as a result, she stared. And studied.

Charlie became increasingly uncomfortable as the subject of June’s fascination. She felt like she might crack, like June would see through her if she was given enough time.

She began to feel like an imposter trying to fill her old role, and the deception of it all made her sick.

Charlie couldn’t stay for the rest of the evening, not if she was going to survive the night.

So, Charlie finished her bourbon a little too quickly, and to Baz’s disappointment, she excused herself to review online journals on her laptop. June wasn’t surprised she was leaving, though she politely said goodnight anyway.

Maybe June suspected Charlie’s weakness all along.

Maybe she was the smart one. Maybe she saw the truth that Ethan and Baz couldn’t – that Charlie was irreparably broken.

Even with the distance of a few floors separating them, Charlie felt haunted by the exchange – and maybe even still watched by June.

Charlie wanted to prove herself. She wanted to be the old star resident again, though she wondered if she had it in her.

The research proved fascinating, though research had never been a problem for Charlie. She loved learning, and she was always captivated by cases like this. Still, Paula’s case was an enigma, and Charlie went between journals, online textbooks, and her own observations over and over until her eyes burned. When she couldn’t focus anymore, she decided to take a walk and check on Paula. With any luck, she’d gain valuable information through questioning or observation. Even if learned nothing, it would be nice to see Ethan, someone who knew about her trauma and still believed in her enough to bring her here.

Charlie was halfway to Paula’s room when she spotted a familiar face.

“Timothy?” Charlie called out.

Timothy, the patient’s son, stopped mid-stride in shock. He probably didn’t think that anyone else in this hotel knew him.

“I’m one of your mom’s doctors,” Charlie explained quickly, hoping to put him at ease.

It worked. Timothy relaxed a bit, though he remained rigid enough to protect the cup of herbal tea he was carrying. Another mug for his mom, Charlie suspected. She worried that this meant her symptoms were getting worse.

“I’m on your way to your mother’s room. Do you mind if I walk with you?” Charlie asked. During the interview, Timothy had been more forthcoming than his mother, and if Paula became more uncooperative, he would be their only hope. And she worried for the boy. It had to be scary to watch something like this happen to your mother.

Timothy agreed, and they walked together quietly. After a few quiet moments, Charlie commented, “That’s very sweet of you to bring your mother some tea. You’ve been a very good caretaker, Timothy. That’s brave of you, and I want you to know you’re doing a good job, though you should also take care of yourself tonight.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m used to it,” Timothy said sheepishly, looking into the cup of tea with a shy smile.

Charlie’s interest was piqued.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just mom and me at home, so I take care of her.”

“What do you take care of, Timothy?”

Timothy frowned like he’d said something wrong.

“We’re here to help,” Charlie assured him, “So if she has a condition you’ve been helping her with, it’s okay. Just let us know. It may be interacting with or causing her current ailment.”

Timothy looked at Charlie thoughtfully. Almost too thoughtfully.

Charlie was sure there was something he wanted to tell her, or at least something he should tell her.

But all he said was, “It’s nothing really. We’re doing better now.”

Better from what? she thought.

Timothy suddenly looked down and frowned further.

“Is something wrong?”

“I forgot my bag in the lobby when I went to make the tea….”

“I can go get it for you.”

“No,” Timothy insisted too quickly.

Charlie was startled.

“Well, I can bring the tea if you want….” Charlie offered, her voice soft.

“She wouldn’t take it from you,” Timothy shook his head, his eyes softer now. Almost like he was apologetic for his mom’s violent dislike of doctors.

Charlie didn’t want to let Timothy go, especially when he was clearly hiding something, but he insisted she go ahead to the room without him. Not wanting to alienate him, Charlie reluctantly complied.

Once Charlie was in Paula’s room, she almost forgot about her strange encounter with Timothy. The change in Paula was drastic. Her boisterous laughter had faded into dreary silence. She laid in the bed silent and unmoving, her face blank and cold. Even the room felt darker, like all of the energy had been drained as depression gripped the primary occupant.

Ethan was stationed in the corner of the room, and he greeted Charlie with a silent nod.

“How long has this been going on?” Charlie whispered as she approached.

“About an hour,” Ethan frowned.

“I ran into the son in the hallway. I think there’s a preexisting condition they’re hiding from us,” Charlie lowered her voice even further to keep from being heard.

“Hmm,” Ethan raised his eyebrows with intrigue.

“I’m working on it,” she assured him.

Before they could talk any further, Timothy entered with a cup of tea and a bookbag in tow. He dropped the bag by the door, letting it slouch near Ethan and Charlie as he rushed to his mother’s side to deliver the tea. His bag’s zipper was half-undone, revealing some of the contents.

Charlie couldn’t help but look.

A notebook. Headphones. Pencils and pens. What looked like a few pages of math homework. Teabags, presumably from the herbal tea.

All normal stuff for a high schooler.

Still, she tilted her head just a bit more.

Some socks. A bag of –

A bag of pills.

Charlie’s head jerked to attention.

Why would he have a bag of pills? Was he abusing them?

Charlie was about to elbow Ethan and draw his attention to it when Timothy returned for the bag, zipping it back up and slinging it over his shoulder. If he noticed her stare, he didn’t let on.

Everything that was said after that was a blur. Charlie was wracking her brain trying to mentally identify the pill, but she didn’t recognize it. If only she knew what it was, maybe she could help.

When June arrived to take her shift, Charlie took it as her opportunity to return to her room to research medications commonly used or abused by teenagers.

Ethan, oblivious to her new mission, was disappointed by how quickly she ran away. He’d been excited when she came to check on Paula. He thought she was getting back into medicine, but now she was running away from it – and him.

He’d hoped to talk to her once he was off duty.

But Charlie didn’t even realize she’d slighted him.

She spent the next forty-five minutes trying to find a match for the pill.

Nothing jumped out at her. The pill she saw didn’t seem to be commonly abused, nor was it coming up in her research. Could it be a regular vitamin? If so, why would he have it in a bag? Or was it a street drug not listed in these databases?

Without interruption, she might have spent the whole night in this fruitless search.

She was lucky Ethan knocked on the door.

Knock. Knock.

Her train of thought was rudely interrupted, she thought, and she was reluctant to abandon her computer and greet the intruder. Had there not been a patient, she might have been annoyed enough to wait for a second knock.

When she saw Ethan, her mind went back to that room – to Paula.

She forgot that there was any other reason he might be coming to see her.

Like the fact that this was her first time back to work or that he was her boyfriend.

“Are Paula and Timothy alright?” Charlie blurted out, skipping introductions as she assumed the worst.

“Oh…” Ethan was a little knocked back, “Yes. They’re fine.”

“Oh,” Charlie was relieved but now a bit confused.

He stared at her.

Didn’t she understand why he was here? Why wasn’t she inviting him inside?

For a second, she’d gotten so into her job that she’d forgotten everything else – even how much her job terrified her.

“I came to check on you,” Ethan announced finally.

This jolted Charlie’s memory, and she quickly moved back from the door, letting him enter.

Her room was smaller than his, he noted. He found himself hoping she wouldn’t sleep in it tonight. He wanted her by his side. He wanted the assurance that he hadn’t lost her by pushing her too hard.

“How are you doing?” Ethan asked as he crossed the room, silently appraising her living arrangements. By the state of the crumbled comforter, it looked like she’d been researching on her laptop for most of the night.

“Alright, I guess” Charlie murmured, a little unsure of herself.

Their case was an enigma, and their patient was rapidly detreating in a blizzard. A teen had mystery pills in his backpack. June was now studying her. All day, Charlie had been teetering between genuine passion for her job and the feeling of insufficiently filling her old role.

How well could she really be doing?

But she also couldn’t say that she was miserable. She wasn’t as sure of her decision to leave as she had been this morning, nor was she convinced that medicine was all death and destruction.

The best way to describe Charlie was unsteady. Unsure, even.

She just had to survive this case.

Ethan, unsatisfied with her answer, awkwardly paced her small hotel room. She watched.

Finally, he turned to her, and finding the courage to say the words he’d prepared for the last hour, he said, “I’ve been thinking, and I wanted to apologize. I pushed you a lot today. At the time, I thought it was right. In fact, I still think it was right, but… it wasn’t fair.”

Charlie couldn’t believe Ethan was apologizing. Any other day, she might have even gloated. But today, she squirmed, equally unnerved by the situation. Maybe even more so.

Ethan waited for her response, trying so hard to be patient but failing miserably. He couldn’t fathom that he might have misjudged her limits and ruined everything.

It felt like an eternity before she spoke.

“It’s okay… I needed to come back before I decided. Maybe not so abruptly but…” Charlie trailed off, the edge of a smile on her lips. There was a glint in her eyes, and he realized she was poking fun at him.

He was relieved.

“You’ve done really well today,” Ethan ventured, “I’m proud of you.”

Charlie shook her head sheepishly, “I barely spoke.”

“But you were listening.”

“You can’t pretend I’m the same as I was.”

“You don’t have to be the same to be a good doctor, Charlie.”

Charlie bit her lower lip as she averted her gaze.

He took that as an invitation to be bolder, “I think you should come back permanently.”

“What?” Charlie’s eyes shot back to him, the shock in her eyes verging on indignation.

“The team agrees. It’s time, Charlie,” Ethan knew he was stuck now. He couldn’t take it back or soothe the storm that was brewing.

“You spoke to the team?” her gaze grew harder.

“I wanted you to know that you had full faith in you!” Ethan explained.

“June’s already watching me like there’s something wrong with me! Now you’ve just given her more reason to study me,” Charlie shook her head, frustration rising through her veins, “Why would you do that before talking to me?”

“You need to know that we believe in you, Charlotte,” Ethan said quite defensively, “We want you on the team.”

“I haven’t even made it through this case. What makes you think I’m ready to take on another?”

“Because you’re you. You’re not even out of residency yet, and you’re pulling your weight among experts. You’re discovering preexisting conditions none of us ever knew about-“

“Of which we have no proof!” Charlie interrupted.

“You’re still closer to an answer than any of us are,” Ethan said firmly, “And even when you’re scared, like you are now, you still care. You’re a good doctor. Great, even. You’ll be better than me one day. But you’re giving up-“

“Giving up?” Charlie repeated incredulously, “That’s what you think I’m doing?”

“You have a gift!”

“I almost died,” Charlie emphasized, “Every time a patient comes in with a mystery illness and no hope, I know what that feels like. I relive the worst day of my life through their eyes, and I know I can’t save them all. And you think I’m just giving up?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Charlie,” Ethan said, suddenly ashamed, “I’m trying to help you. I love you, and I know you love medicine. I don’t want you to lose that because of a premature decision.”

“So, you think you’re helping me by making me do what I don’t want?”

Ethan frowned, “When it feels like it’s for the best, yes… But it’ll get better.”

Charlie paused.

And then something clicked.

And the fight – and Ethan’s dumb words – were forgotten.

“Wait,” she mumbled, “Making me do what I don’t want…”

“Yes, I know, and I’m sorry. But I really am trying to help,” Ethan tried, oblivious to the shift in Charlie’s mind.

She ignored him, rushing to her computer.

“What are you doing?” Ethan asked incredulously, watching as she frantically typed something into her computer. Again, she ignored him.

Her eyes the screen until they landed on the pill she’d seen in Timothy’s bag.

“I know what’s wrong with Paula.”

Ethan dropped his defensive stance and rushed to her side, hoping he’d understand by looking at her screen. But all he saw was a medication.

“There’s a bag of lithium in Timothy’s backpack. He said he’s been taking care of her for a long time but that she got better recently. I think he’s drugging her with this.”

“Her mood swings…” Ethan’s jaw almost dropped.

“He’s probably been trying to treat her for bipolar disorder on his own. You saw how she was with doctors. I doubt she would have gone in for treatment,” Charlie felt a knot form in her stomach. Even though she was sure of her hypothesis, she hoped it wasn’t true.

“And they gave her ibuprofen to treat her head injury,” Ethan swallowed heavily.

“We have to get her to a hospital.”

“And talk to Timothy.”

As if reading each other’s minds, they abandoned the laptop in Charlie’s room and raced to Paula’s room where they found Timothy waiting by his sleeping mother, looking exhausted but sleepless with worry.

Unfortunately, Charlie’s theory was correct.

Timothy confessed, and Charlie’s heart broke as they explained the repercussions of his actions as well as the severity of what he had done wrong. She felt for him, for what he must have gone through to think such action was necessary. But she couldn’t excuse his decision to medicate her without her consent, especially given the consequences. The lithium and ibuprofen combined to form a disastrous chain reaction, one that lasted even after they discovered the cause.

It took hours for the storm to clear enough for the helicopters to take Paula to the hospital.

While they waited, Charlie and Ethan sat in his room – a romantic suite with a view of the snowy mountains. It felt like a waste now. A romantic night they could have had, if Charlie hadn’t solved such a sad mystery. She was tired, though she wouldn’t admit it. At some point, she drifted to sleep, and Ethan held her, his fingers running through her hair as he kissed her temple and quietly congratulated her on her solve.

“I always knew you’d be the one to solve it,” he whispered.

“Why?” she murmured, “Were you holding back?”

“No, because you’re smarter than me,” he chuckled.

Charlie was smiling when she fell asleep.

When she woke up, the mood had shifted back to panic.

The helicopter on its way, and the team needed to follow. June and Baz took the helicopter with Paula and Timothy, and Ethan and Charlie drove the car back once the roads opened. The team called a few times to share updates and ask for advice.

But for most of the drive, Ethan held Charlie’s hand in silence.

The case was over.

She could back to her life in the apartment where she hid from the world and pushed herself just a little day by day, building her tolerance safely. She could tell Ethan he was wrong. Or she could stay.

And the truth was… she couldn’t imagine going back now.

Not now that she remembered what it was like on the good days – ones where she made the solve and saved the day. Ones where she realized she made a difference, that she solved things other people couldn’t.

It was okay to be scared.

Even as the words were on the tip of her tongue, she was terrified.

“My answer is yes.”

Ethan’s eyes momentarily drifted from the road to her, “What?”

“To your question last night. I want to come back permanently.”

Ethan felt like he could crash the car out of pure shock.

“Are you sure?”

“I mean… not really. I’m scared, but I think it’s time,” Charlie nodded her head, trying to project the confidence she wanted to once more possess.

“We can wait for you if you need more time,” Ethan assured her, struggling to keep his eyes on the highway and not right at her.

“I know,” Charlie confirmed, “But now is the time. I can’t retire, and I can’t wait forever to go back. I’ll never be 100% ready, so I just have to jump in.”

Ethan’s heart was beating so fast that Charlie felt it as she held his hand.

“Are you really, really sure?” Ethan clarified just one more time.

“Yes,” Charlie laughed, a smile lingering on her lips.

He looked at her. Briefly, of course. He was driving, after all.

And then his face broke out in a face-splitting grin.

“I’m so proud of you, Rookie,” he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles, “You’re amazing! I love you! I love you so much.”

His happiness was infectious. So infectious that she forgot about the fear.

And she laughed.

“You haven’t called me Rookie in a long time,” she squeezed his hand softly, and he cast a sideways glance at her.

“Do you still like being called Rookie?”

“Yes,” she smiled so warmly it practically radiated off of her.

And he loved her. He really did.

“Well then, I love you, Rookie,” he smirked, “And I owe you a romantic ski vacation.”

“Bold of you to assume I know how to ski.”

“And I owe you ski lessons, I suppose,” he murmured affectionately.

“You also owe me a kiss when we stop this car,” Charlie added.

He looked over at her – and quite recklessly because they were doctors and knew what could happen when young lovers were stupid on highways – he kissed her. Quickly, of course. Softly. But lovingly.

And even if she regretted it tomorrow and the world caved again, she was glad she was back today.

#Ethan ramsey #choices #ethan ramsey x mc #dr. ethan ramsey #pixelbery #choices stories you play #open heart #open heart fanfiction #with and without #fics #dr. ethan ramsey x mc

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

Text

Miles Between Us Chapter 10 ~The Art of Non-Communication

WARNING: MILD SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in The Mediation

"Three million pounds for a house!" Jenny broke through his reflection. "Doesn't it make ye wonder what else she inherited?"

Jamie looked at the paper again. That's what the house is worth? Ach, Christ! Even the Oxford gossip found its way to Broch Mordha. He knew Claire would be mortified if the news of her assets became everyone's favourite topic of conversation.

Folding the note, he handed it back to his sister. He shook his head at his sister. "Not a word about this to any of yer mates!" he warned her. "Or else ..."

Jenny's eyes widened. "What do ye take me for?"

"A babble merchant," he ribbed, unsmiling. "Now, let me be."

"Ye're no' angry at me still, are ye?"

"No," he sighed. "I'm just exhausted."

"Can I do anything for ye?"

He puffed out a breath. Jenny was looking at him earnestly, and he knew she only wanted to reach out. "Aye, in fact, ye can. Ye can arrange that appointment with the therapist for me."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

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Jamie was removed from the noise of Lallybroch's homely routine when he stepped inside the shower that barely allotted for his breadth and height. He stroked the erection he'd been sporting since he'd woken up from his dreams of Claire, his elbow occasionally hitting the wall. If he kept this pace up, there would be some damaged tiles to answer for by the time he finally climaxed.

Creamy pale skin and amber eyes seeped through his mind, and he stifled a groan, the throbbing flesh in his hand swelling to the point of anguish. It was the reason he'd escaped to the shower when his dad had woken him, the image of Claire still vivid and the need to spill urgent. But the act of pleasuring himself was tainted with guilt. It didn't feel right using the memory of them together to find completion when he'd left her on her own. Not only did it make him a sick lecherous human being, but his action defied all reason and logic.

Anyone in their right mind wouldn't be depriving themselves if they had what he and Claire had, but instead, here he was, on self-imposed retreat, his hungry thoughts reliving that time she'd been on her knees taking his entire length in her sweet, sweet mouth. Depravity kicked in, and his body responded to the memory in a fast, fluid rush. Every moral compass he'd had, went from dried cement to loose sand, and nothing could contain the rampant desire to relieve the pressure between his legs.

He propped his left hand on the wet wall and quickened the pace of his strokes, the tight fist travelling from the base of his hardness to the engorged tip.

"Christ," he gritted, hoping he could finish without the repercussion of self-loathing and feeling like an unredeemable bastard.

Ye left her! In tears!

It's for her own good. I'm taking steps to make myself better ...for her.

What if she gets sick and tired of waiting for ye to sort out yer issues?

No, no ...she understands.

Ye havenae called her.

I'll see her after the therapy, for fuck sake.

Guilt made him want to dim the image of Claire sucking him, but the heavy sack hung between his thighs wouldn't be wheedled into emptying without envisioning her.

He was so close. He replayed Claire's most recent voice message in his head, her voice husky and yearning. She must have been in bed wearing nothing but his shirt. I love you, Jamie. I wish I could hold you right now and ease your pain.

"Ah, fuck!" Jamie groaned as convulsion racked his body. "Christ, Sassenach." His seed spurted from his cock in what felt like an endless surge of the tide. Back and forth until he was compelled to release his flesh to brace himself with both hands on the tiled surface while the remnant of his release washed down onto the shower floor.

The water had turned tepid by the time reality came streaming back in. Steeling himself, Jamie waited for the chitter-chatter in his head to start reprimanding, telling him what a sick bastard he was, but nothing came. It was quiet. Notably quiet, in fact, and the prolonged silence was too unusual for comfort and almost deafening. The voices had been his life long companion, and it seemed like someone had muted the noises. The only sound he heard was the sound of his breathing and the shower spray hitting the surfaces.

He almost jumped at the loud rapping on the door. "Jamie! Ye're gonnae be late for yer therapy appointment," Willie called out, impatience lacing his voice.

He blew out a breath. "Two minutes!" he shouted. Damn it!

"Two minutes," Willie repeated, and he strode off, the sound of his heavy footsteps making creaking sounds on the wooden floor.

Therapy! He wasn't looking forward to it, but if it would mean bringing him closer to living a normal life with Claire, he'd take his chances. He had his future waiting for him in his cottage, and God knew what was going through her mind with his prolonged absence. There's a possibility she could decide right there, and then, she'd had enough, and he could be returning to an empty home. Fuck that! No' gonnae happen.

Wrenching a curse from the depths of his soul, he grabbed a towel and dried himself in record time. No more messing about. It was time to regain back the rein to his life. After his therapy, he was returning back to his Sassenach.

..........

Jamie hadn't replied to Claire's multiple voice messages, so she'd stopped sending them, thinking he needed a break. If it hadn't been for Willie checking up on her, Rollo needing to be walked and her own work keeping her busy, she would have gone out of her mind.

She found solace in knowing he was safe with his family and sorting out his issues and tried not to dwell on the theory that she might be the reason for his worsening condition; otherwise, it would mean giving up on them and walking out of his life for his own good. They'd both had a traumatic start to childhood. If anything, their shared experience should bring them together ...well, at least she was hoping that was the case.

As long as she was busy, she was absolutely fine. But it hurt being apart from Jamie. The minute she unwinded from her daytime activities, the feeling of abandonment crept in, and she felt lost and empty. An all-consuming gloom would lurk, overwhelming her, and tears would start to fall. It had been only two days since Jamie left, but she was already fearing she'd return to London without seeing him again. It's just not fair. It was as if the universe was conspiring to keep them apart, and if that was the case, they'd never really had a chance from the start. Such thoughts would lead to a part of her wishing they'd never met because it was like being shown what happiness with someone you love could be, only to be yanked back out of reach.

She glanced out the kitchen window and realised it had begun to rain, the grey skies echoing her sombre mood. Frustrated, she mentally shook herself. There were a lot of things to do, and her uncle would be arriving in a couple of days. She hadn't mentioned anything to him about what had happened with Jamie, but that was a worry she'd have to deal with later. Because of all days, Tom Christie had called earlier, arranging to meet with her this afternoon to further discuss his book's publication. She hadn't anticipated meeting up with him for another week or more. Maybe it was a good thing he'd decided to show up. It would certainly be a much-needed distraction from the growing worries she had of Jamie. But first, she needed to book a bed and breakfast room in the village centre, a request her uncle had explicitly stressed as he didn't want to stay in Jamie's cottage to watch them canoodle, as he'd gruffly pointed out. But Claire highly doubted there would be any danger of his uncle witnessing that anytime soon.

Grabbing her coat and bag, she headed out. She was just stepping across the threshold when she caught sight of Jamie's sister walking towards her. What is she doing here? The last time she'd seen Jenny was when they were first introduced, and back then, she hadn't failed to notice the lukewarm reception. She'd tried her best to dismiss it as overly protective sibling behaviour. But something had been niggling in her mind lately ever since Willie mentioned Jenny's meddling with Jamie's love life.

Bracing herself, she forced a smile. "Hi, I'm just on my way out. Does Jamie need some fresh shirts?" She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "I can quickly grab some if that's what you came here for."

There was an awkward silence. "I ...ah, I'm here to see ye." Jenny held up a plastic container. "Oh, and ma made these ... it's rhubarb pie. And she's asking after ye."

"Oh, that's thoughtful. How are ..."

"Do ye have a moment?" Jenny interrupted out of the blue.

Claire paused. Though feeling like she was in this weird bubble filled with fog and not in the mood for small talk or niceties, she stepped back and waved Jamie's sister in. "Sure. I suppose I can spare a few minutes."

Jenny nodded gratefully and stepped inside the cottage. Claire watched her cross the room to place the rhubarb pie and her shoulder bag on the dining table. She started to wring her hands, possibly because she'd realised Claire wasn't going to initiate the talk.

"Jamie is taking steps to get better," Jenny began, facing her.

"I know."

"Of course, you do."

Claire tamped down the urge to roll her eyes. "From what Jamie's told me, that's what he's been doing all his life, hasn't he?"

"Yes, that's true."

She sighed, impatience beginning to creep in. "Jenny, why are you really here? Please let's not pretend that you like me. You practically ignored me when we first met, and you've made no attempt whatsoever to get to know me. I am not expecting us to be the best of mates just because I'm with Jamie, but I do expect manners. So, I am asking very kindly if there's a reason for you taking over my precious time, please spit it out."

Jenny's eyebrows hit her hairline. "I ...uh ...I came because I wanted to see you. To check if ye're alright."

"Willie's been doing that but thank you anyway." She had no time for pussyfooting around. Pulling her coat tighter around her, she made a move to leave. "Well, I need to get going. Please thank your mum for me for the pie. I'll have it later with coffee when I return. And regards to your da as well." She pulled the door open.

"Wait ..."

"Yes?"

Jenny let out a rickety inhale. "I'm sorry, okay? I came to apologise. You're right. I was downright rude." Her lips barely moved when she said the words. It was as if it's taking a lot out of her to admit to her faults. "I have no right to meddle in my brother's affairs, moreso make ye feel unwelcome when ye're the one Jamie wants to be with." Her shoulders lost most of their tension, but the lines of her body were still strained tight. "I was worried about my brother making trips to London, and ye ken the reason why. I thought by not acknowledging ye, ye would eventually go away for good. I ken it was wrong. I shouldn't have behaved the way I did."

"But making me go away wouldn't have made a difference to his condition. Jamie would have continued to have those panic attacks."

"I ken," Jenny shrugged. "It was a dumb move, and I feel stupid for it. I realise that now. I dinnae ken what I was thinking. I'm so sorry, Claire. Can we start all over again and be friends?"

Claire felt a spark of sympathy for Jenny. In that brief moment of admission, she'd kind of started to like the girl in front of her. Though she knew it would take a while before they could converse without feeling awkward, at least this was a start. Claire smiled genuinely for the first time. "Of course. I understand now why you felt the way you did." She glanced at her watch. "But in as much as I'd like to continue this bonding, I really need to go. I have a few errands to run. Shall we talk another time?"

"Oh aye, I completely forgot ye have someplace to go." She whipped around to grabbed her bag but knocked it to the floor instead, spilling its contents. "Ach, so clumsy of me," she muttered, getting onto her knees. "Ye go ahead, Claire. I have a spare key. I'll lock up once I'm done,

Claire immediately crouched down to help, grabbing feminine bits and bobs that were scattered on the rug. "Two pair of hands are always quicker getting the job done," she assured her.

"Aye, I guess so," Jenny mumbled as she skimmed the area with her eyes looking for anything she missed.

Claire scooped the loose pennies that had rolled off and slotted them into Jenny's bag. Then she picked up a slip of paper and was about to hand it to Jenny when she realised it was a newspaper clipping with her surname printed on it. Curious, Claire unfolded it and was surprised to see it was a small article from Oxford Mail about her family home, including a small line mentioning her as an heiress. Though she was aware of the article's existence, she was shocked to see it in Jenny's possession. What is Jenny doing with this?

Blood drained from her face when she recalled Willie's story about Jenny playing matchmaker between Geneva and Jamie. Didn't Willie say Geneva comes from a well-off family, Jenny's perfect solution to Lallybroch's financial problem? Claire skimmed the familiar article once more, the worth of her property jumping out of the paper: three million pounds. A sudden sharp pain slammed into her chest.

Claire held up the newspaper cutting to Jenny's face. "Why do you have this?" she whispered through numb lips.

Jenny's face was white as a sheet. "I ...it was given to me."

"Is this the reason why you're suddenly nice?"

"No!" Jenny licked her lips, thoughts racing behind her blue eyes. "I swear to God, I meant what I said earlier ...that I’m sorry. It has nothing to do with ..." She waved a hand towards the paper Claire was holding. "...that."

Claire scrambled to her feet. "You're sorry?" Her voice was high-pitched and unnatural, but she couldn't help it. There's a rumbling earthquake beginning to take place inside her. "When did you start feeling sorry, Jenny? After you read this?" She crumpled the piece of paper and threw it on the floor. "Did you really want to be my friend? Or was that all hogwash too?"

"Claire, please." Misery slashed across her face. "I realised my mistake when Jamie took off with his car the other night, and Willie spent hours looking for him. My parents, husband and I were up, and we were worried sick. My constant meddling has made him fled and taken him away from ye." She wrung her hands together. "I was a bloody idiot for thinking I was doing what's best for my brother when, in fact, I was making things worse. And Jamie's now miserable because he thinks it's all his fault when really, it's mine. Ye have to believe me when I say that piece of paper was given to me. I never sought it myself. It was handed to me."

"Good God, are you listening to yourself?" Her voice had been reduced to a whisper. All she could see was Jamie's guilt and tortured face that day when he'd told her about his fight with Jenny. His pained expression before he'd sped off to the night and her fear of the unknown. The many times he'd excused and apologised for his sister's behaviour because he thought Jenny was doing it out of love when Claire could clearly see it was all out of selfishness. "Let me get this straight ...you only recognised your mistake because you became worried sick after your brother took off. Are you even aware that you've been treating him like an imbecile all this while as if he can't decide for himself? This was never about him, Jenny, is it? You're only thinking about yourself. The other night scared the bejesus out of you because you knew well you were part of the reason he took off. Tell me this ...how does it feel like to be riddled with guilt now, huh? Try multiplying that guilt by a thousandfold and remind yourself that's what Jamie feels every day of his life. And if you think saying sorry will make things right again, you need your head thoroughly examined. Jamie loves you despite all your meddling, and you unashamedly continued to manipulate him. So excuse me if I have trouble believing a single word you're saying now. Because you know what the bloody hell this looks like? Your apologies to me sound like you're trying to manipulate me as well. And all because I happen to own an impressive three million pound property."

"No!" Jenny shook her head in despair. "Everything else is true ...but not that about yer property." There's a tremor in her voice and shame in her eyes. "I stopped by yesterday to apologise to ye, but ye werenae home, and when Mrs Fitz from across the road saw me, she handed me that newspaper clipping. I swear to God, Claire, I came to ye even before I knew ye had that property."

Claire couldn't stand there and listen anymore, not after what she'd gone through the last couple of days. She needed to let all her frustration out, or she'd implode. "I don't trust you, Jenny. If drivel could bounce, you'd be in the bloody orbit by now. Unfortunately, that won't happen, so I'm out of here. I can't stand being here any longer." The words exploded out of her and popped in the air like bright red fireworks.

Jenny fell back a step and gasped. Claire was shocked too with the words that came out of her mouth. But she took that opportunity to rush out of the cottage, not caring if it was still raining, only focusing on getting as far away from Jenny as possible.

She'd just crossed the street when a vehicle screeched to a stop and reversed. Claire kept on walking, still reeling from her conversation with Jenny.

"Miss Beauchamp?"

She stopped and glanced into the Land Rover window that stopped by her side and noticed a familiar face. "Yes?"

The man tipped his baseball cap on his head and smiled. "It's me, Tom Christie."

"Oh ... it's you ... you're early!" was all she could say, too surprised for words.

"Actually, I'm on my way home to change clothes before our meeting. Do ye need a ride? I noticed ye dinnae have a brolly with ye, and it's raining."

Claire glanced back at the cottage and saw Jenny standing at the doorway, looking at her with that still ashen face. She'd heard rumours in the village about Tom being a ladies' man and knew what it would look like to Jenny if she got into the Land Rover with him. But she didn't give a flying fig. Let her gossip! Smiling, she nodded at Tom. "Yes, please. To the village centre if it's no trouble."

He grinned. "Nae bother at all. Hop in."

..........

"Remind me again why I'm here," Willie mumbled under his breath as they followed a young woman down a long hallway lined with modern paintings. "I thought I made it clear it should be Claire attending this therapy with ye. In case ye need reminding, I got our business to run."

Jamie sighed. "I'd rather ye're here. Ye ken my condition better than anyone."

"Is it Geneva ye're worried about?" his older brother asked in a low voice.

"God, no. I'd be more worried if Jenny came with me. Christ, she'd been pushing Geneva and me together for as long as I can remember. I ken the lass took a fancy in me, but that's all it ever was. I'm just concerned it's gonnae be weird since we ken each other."

Willie glanced at him with understanding. "There's nae avoiding it, lad. We live in a small village, and everyone knows everyone. It's the bane of living in such a place. We just have to make do with what we have."

"Aye, that's true."

The young woman in front of them turned. "The last one on the right," she smiled, pointing at the white door. Jamie wanted to say he knew his way around and that it was the same office as his former therapist but decided not to and returned her smile instead.

With Willie close behind him, he stepped forward and knocked lightly against the door. A feminine voice answered from the inside, "Come in."

Pushing the door open, they were greeted by a familiar, cosy space and Geneva, dressed in a black pantsuit with her hair done in a bun. She was sat in a dark leather armchair, looking them over with her transparent-rimmed glasses. If she was surprised to see Willie with him, she hid it well.

"Mr Fraser, it's nice to see you again." Smiling warmly, she stood up and held out her hand for him. Taking it, she gave him a firm handshake before doing the same to Willie and motioning them towards the over-size beige leather sofa arranged in the middle of the room. "Please take a seat." Like a couple of schoolboys, they both did as they were told.

"Before anything else," she began, looking at Jamie. "I have you here for one on one therapy. Is there a reason why you brought your brother with you?"

Jamie cleared his throat and licked his lips. "I, ah, wanted him here for moral support."

"Fair enough. So what can I do for you?" She smiled, crossing her legs and reclining back into her armchair, a clipboard resting on her thigh.

Jamie anxiously glanced at Willie, but his brother only shrugged. "I dinnae ken where to start. Ever since yer predecessor left, I havenae been to therapy because I didnae feel comfortable seeing a therapist who knows me on a personal level. It kinda feels odd."

She steepled her fingers together, her blue eyes narrowing on him. "I understand this is out of your comfort zone and probably, for some, highly unusual. But I'd like to make it clear that I take my job seriously, and I hold myself to the highest professional standard. Whatever friendship I have with your sister will have no effect whatsoever on what would transpire within these walls. If you wish to proceed, please take a few deep breaths and just forget that you know me. In here, I am Dr Dunsany, and you are Mr Fraser."

Jamie considered her words as she waited patiently for his reply. After a minute of contemplation, he finally nodded and took a few cleansing breaths. "Fine."

She smiled. "So, first things first. What prompted you to finally see a therapist?"

He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. "I'm in a serious relationship." Jamie thought he saw an ever so slight arching of her eyebrow but immediately dismissed it as his imagination. "And my condition and the panic attacks are hurting our relationship. I figured in order for us to move forward, I needed to take steps in getting better."

Geneva picked up her clipboard and started scribbling. "What do you believe your girlfriend thinks about your condition?"

Jamie smiled briefly at the thought of Claire. "Weel, she's very understanding and very patient, and she's taken my condition in a stride. Like the rest of my family, she thinks I'm suffering from suppressed guilt and emotions."

Geneva paused and closely appraised him. "Why do you think she thinks you have suppressed guilt and emotions?"

His heart began to increase its pace, and his throat tightened. "Because we were both there when her parents died. She was able to move on, but I couldnae," the words came out rapidly.

A whoosh of breath came from Willie.

"Why do you think she was able to move on and you couldn't?" she pushed, seemingly unaffected by Jamie's revelation.

A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. "Because it's my fault that she grew up without a family."

He heard Willie's breath hitch, but Geneva ignored his brother.

"And why do you think it's your fault?"

His mouth became dry, and his tongue thick. "I didnae run fast enough to get help when their car crashed. If I had, she wouldnae be orphaned today. If I was stronger, I wouldnae have needed to run off and get my godfather, and I could have pulled the door open myself and saved her parents as well."

"You look like a strong man, Mr Fraser. Why do you think you needed to run and get help to pull the door open?"

"I wasnae big enough back then. I was only ten." He dropped his head into his hand. "And she was so wee ...crying for her ma. All I could do was hold her."

He started to hyperventilate as the image of Harry staring at him through the window, sprung to life. It was the last image he saw before the car had exploded.

Sensing his discomfort, Geneva stood from her armchair and retrieved two bottles of mineral water from the mini-fridge, handing them each to the brothers. They both gratefully accepted, taking large gulps.

When he got his breathing back under control, she proceeded. "I understand now your frustration at not being big enough to carry the task out yourself and why you had to get your godfather." She scribbled a few more notes on her clipboard. "I'm going to go back to the question you haven't answered yet. Why do you think your girlfriend was able to move on from her parents' death?"

He squashed the empty bottle of mineral water. "She was too young then to understand any of it, just a wee bairn when it happened."

"And so were you."

"She was five, and I was ten. I was old enough to be able to do something about it, but I couldn't."

"Your godfather, who was old enough and stronger than you, was unable to do anything further. Do you think it was your godfather's fault?"

"No! Of course, not. He tried his best. We got her ...Claire, who's m-my girlfriend now, out first and my godfather made me take her to safety. But the car caught fire, and it exploded."

"So it's not your godfather's fault, and yet you think it was your fault."

"Yes!"

"Why would you think, after all the efforts you and your godfather have done to try and save your girlfriend's parents, it's still your fault?"

"It was the way he looked at me."

"Who looked at you?"

"Claire's father. Just before the car exploded."

"How did he look at you?"

"He was just staring at me."

"And you can't get that out of your head?"

"No."

A mild frown of concentration descended across Geneva's face as she flipped through the notes on her clipboard. She reached out for a manila folder on a coffee table by her side and browsed through it too. "This is a great start, Mr Fraser," she continued. "From what I've here in your history with your former therapist, this is the first time you've ever talked about an experience from your childhood. This is highly interesting. Care to tell me why you've never talked about this before."

"It's a memory that I've forgotten, and it's just resurfaced recently."

She arched an eyebrow. "How recently?"

"A few days ago."

"Can you remember what triggered the memories to come back?"

"The night I met my girlfriend's uncle on video chat."

"So, prior to that night, you had no recollection of the forgotten memory, is that correct?"

"Aye."

"Why do you think your girlfriend's uncle triggered all the memory to come back?"

His fingers began to pick at the water bottle label. "He looks exactly my girlfriend' father."

A long silence ensued.

Geneva placed the clipboard by her side and uncrossed her legs. "That will be all for today, Mr Fraser. We've covered enough to have something to work on."

Jamie's head shot up. "So that's it? That was quick," he pointed out, glancing at his watch.

"Oh, we're far from done, Mr Fraser, but you've revealed more than I anticipated, so I decided to stop while we're ahead. Thank you for answering all questions as openly as possible."

"So what's yer diagnosis?"

She tilted her head to the side. "I believe you have a lot of misplaced guilt about your past that may be hindering you from moving on. So ...what I would like you to do is ...I want you to think about how you want your future to look like. Think really hard and try to dig deep. Next time we catch up, we'll discuss everything in details." She stood up, and Jamie and Willie followed suit. "I'll see you next week. My assistant will write down the date of our next meeting. You can pick up your appointment card on the way out," she smiled, opening the door and ushering them out.

The brothers walked out quietly together, both lost in their own thoughts.

"That wasnae too bad, was it?" Willie asked as they stepped out of the building.

Jamie shook his head. "No, no' at all." His head was still buzzing from the session, so he didn't really have much opinion to offer.

"Perhaps next time, ye can bring Claire with ye."

At the mention of her name, he pulled out his phone from his back pocket. He'd silenced it all morning as he'd prepared himself for the therapy but was disappointed to see there was no new message from her. "She hasnae messaged."

"I'm no' surprised. You havenae been returning her calls. And ye have no excuse, lad, because I left ye a charger at Lallybroch."

Jamie followed his brother close behind as they made their way to the car. "How do ye know I've no' been returning her calls?"

"She told me."

"How is she?"

"Find out yersel'."

A familiar bright red Fiat slowed down next to them just as Jamie was about to get into the car, and Ian, their brother-in-law, poked his head out of the window. "Hey, lads, guess who I just saw back in town?"

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged.

When Ian stalled, Willie blew out an impatient breath.

"Out with it!" Willie grumbled. "I've been away from work for far too long already."

Ian grinned. "Yer pal Christie."

Jamie waved a hand in the air in dismissal and turned to open the car door, not particularly interested in hearing the latest coming and going in Broch Mordha. "I'm pretty sure the lassies will be thrilled he's back."

"Aye, ye're probably right, but I dinnae think ye'd be too pleased to hear if one particular lass is enjoying his company."

Jamie whipped around. "What do ye mean?" He sounded like someone just launched a flying rugby pass onto his stomach.

"Saw Claire and Tom through the window of Slater's Arms. Probably sitting down for late lunch."

His heart and brain must have swapped places because suddenly, his heart seemed twice as heavy, and his brain thumped against his skull. "M-my Claire?"

Willie tipped his head like he's on the brink of calling Ian an eejit. "Hold up, this could all be just an innocent thing. Wasnae Claire supposed to be meeting with someone from here for some book publication?"

"Nae way!" Ian shook his head. "Christie doesnae look like the type to string a sentence together, never mind write a book."

"Alright," Jamie breathed, propping his hands on the edge of the car's roof. His brain was barely functioning because it was knocking against his temple, making him see red. He'd completely underestimated his ability to let her go, thinking he was doing it for her own good. Claire hadn't called today because she thought he'd given up. Ah, shite! He felt he was going to be sick. "I need to go and see her. Now."

"Fuck!" Willie muttered. "I'm coming with ye." Then he bent down to Ian's eye level and pointed his index finger at his brother-in-law. "Next time, run this kind of info by me first."

Ian smirked. "Fine. But I'm coming too. I'm up for seeing a bit of nefariousness."

Jamie was already in the car, fastening his seat belt. "Let's go!"

Dear Readers,

Whew, that was a long chapter. I'm literally drained; nevertheless, I'm feeling a sense of satisfaction that I can post it today. My eyes are wonky, though, from editing, and I was about to go through it again when I thought, ah bugger it, I will do the grammar check tomorrow.

Before I say nighty-night, thanks for your feedback from the previous chapter, and I'm looking forward to what you think of this next one. I know it's slow going, but I really wanted to cover as many plot holes as possible. Slowly but surely, I'm getting there. Anyway, take care always and keep spreading kindness and love. Until the next update, much love! X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 5 years ago

Note

Hello! I hope you're doing okay over there. Are your requests open? If so, could you do a Din x reader with the reader sketching him (the child and their special moments together) when she thinks he isn't looking, but one day he finds the sketchbook? If they're closed just ignore the request but hold on tight to the wishes of good furtune and health ♥ Stay safe!

I’m hanging in there sweet anon and I hope you’re doing okay too (okay but this is so cute omg).

Warnings: It’s really just two dorks and good ole fluff. Some of this is unedited as well

*Reminder that the forum for my taglist is still up and pinned!

__________________________________________

If he would turn slightly to the left, you’d be able to get the perfect angle you need to finish the sketch.

The helmet reflects the glare of the stars, illuminating a bright shine around the top of the beskar and stinging your eyes just a little when you look up at it. You can’t help but do it anyway. The Child is asleep, a day of actually getting to use those little feet of his wore him out - you love the little one, but you and Din have exhausted yourselves keeping up with finding him his home and protecting him at the same time; this peace and quiet right now is highly overdue.

The pencil glides easily against the paper, connecting every line to another, creating another favorite of yours; the perfect piece of art that’s sitting in front of you, unaware of the stacks of sketches that you’ve drawn silently in the whatever corner you can lurk in. To be honest, with as attentive as he is, you’re surprised he hasn’t caught on to you yet.

You’re so lost in finishing the shades that you don’t notice the Mandalorian turning slightly towards you in his seat. He watches your brows furrow in deep concentration, the light scratching in the air a comfort to him since the months of hearing it. He’s never actually seen any of your drawings, however, and he knows that one day the curiosity will get the better of him and he’ll ask... eventually.

Truth is he’s not all the sure on why he hasn’t asked you yet, despite the growing and gnawing interest with teeth that grows sharper and longer as more time goes on. And it’s not like you’ve ever brought it up, either. It’s been this unspoken thing between the two of you - a dance that’s familiar in any language; of scared love and child-like curiosity that seeps into something deeper.

That’s exactly what he’s afraid of.

It’s in this moment of sensing a pair of eyes on you - the pair of eyes you can’t see, but imagine they must be green, or brown more than anything. For a moment, you’re almost afraid to find out.

With a small intake of air you will your head to tilt up. The visor spins away so quick that it’s almost comical, and you bite your lip to suppress the giggle bubbling in your chest.

“Din,” you call his name teasingly. “Is there something you wanted?”

It’s almost too hard to hide the laughter when his helmet jolts towards you, like he’s surprised that you called him out on it.

“I -” You think you hear a gulp through the statics of the vocoder. “- I was... I was just wondering what you were drawing. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”

Your heart skips a beat at the sincerity of his apology, and the fact that he was watching you, which has you wondering if this is a reoccurrence you’ve been blind to this entire time.

“It doesn’t,” you voice croaks. “It’s-it’s nothing really. Just the ship, whatever I see throughout the day.” You sit up, still clutching the book to your chest. “I’m going to check on the kid. Call for me if you need anything.”

When the hell did the air get so thick like this? You feel bad, so bad, and a part of you wants to desperately show him this simple thing that he just wants to look at, but... but he’ll know. One look and he’ll know.

“Okay,” the modulator cracks - you wonder what it’s masking right now, what you can’t hear through the robotic statics. “You can rest too while you’re at it. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

You nod and awkwardly wave your departure, climbing down on wobbly legs to the hull and the cot the Child is asleep on; you’re relieved to see that he’s still bundled in his blanket, a peaceful expression gracing his features.

It’s here you feel the fatigue settling on your shoulders. The dull beating You sigh and settle inside the small space, careful of your weight and making yourself as comfortable as you can get. With the book and pencil still in hand, you decide to finish the little details of his belt.

***

Mando sighs as thoughts of you plague his mind once more.

That, and the fact that he needs to sleep at least an hour before the landing at the next destination.

He keens his ears for any sings of movements down in the hull, but when he hears nothing he climbs down to ladder in quiet, graceful strokes.

The dim light does absolute injustice to your features in his opinion. It’s the first thing he notices, not the Child is gurgling over your open sketchbook that’s sprawled out on your lap as you sleep.

“Kriff,” he curses under his breath and rushes as quietly as he can towards the bunk. He tries to keep his eyes averted of the drawings, but he can’t help it, especially when the Child pouts and slaps against the page when his hand clasps around it.

It’s... well, it’s him. He’s leaning against the wall of what he can tell is the Razor Crest based off the small details you made sure to put in - he really admires that. Down at his feet is the little one, grinning up at him. Beneath the helmet that’s shielded him from the rest of the world for almost all his life, he smiles back; orange caresses the rough paper, imagining that he can actually feel it through the lead and gloves.

The next page is of a planet he cannot name off the top of his head, but he can’t shake the feeling that it’s of home.

Each page is filled with memories; past and present etched and filled with the kind of skill and warmth that can never be replaced; promises of mystery tied in like a piece of string. Most of them towards the end are of him and the Child. Small moments, mostly, like when he fell asleep with the kid secured to his armored-less chest, and moments when it’s him, sitting in the pilot’s seat or his cape flowing behind him as he walks away to a new bounty or clue to the Child’s powers.

He recognizes them with a deep fondness that makes his head swirl with all types of emotions. Din knows what they mean, but it’s the fear. Yet each drawing - he’s on the one from hours ago - scolds each inch of doubt within him, and in this he finds a type of bravery he’s hasn’t faced much before; it makes it more terrifying to him.

“I like to draw what makes me happy.”

Your voice startles him from his thoughts. He’s never frozen up like this before - at least long ago - but now it feels like your stare alone is the only thing keeping him grounded to this spot. The doe like expression on your face the guilt that started to creep within his chest dissipates.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because he still feels that he needs to apologize. “The kid had it and I... he likes the one where he found that flower.”

You smile widely at that, looking down at the child in question as you sit up. Din silently watches you climb out from the bunk and takes a few steps back to let you lean against the cold interior.

“That’s one of my favorites, too,” you say; proudly, Din thinks. “And the one where you fell asleep in the pilot’s chair... you were so tired that day and I kept trying to get you to rest and let me take over, but you can be so stubborn sometimes, you know that?”

His chuckle radiates the room, and fuck it, it could radiate the entire galaxy. Yours join in with ease, but it quickly dies down, though not awkwardly or uncomfortably; it feels natural among the countless other laughs you’ve shared over the years.

“I um - “ you clear your throat nervously, battling with the endless fluttering of butterflies in your stomach and the shakiness in your voice. “- I guess this is a good time to say that I really like you, Din. And I’ve been drawing these sketches of as many of these moments as I can because they’re so precious to me.” You take a deep breath. “Just like the Child is. Just like you are.”

You finish with a light scoff. It’s quiet, you have to pee, and you hope to the Maker above that this isn’t how your journey with Din ends; you should really open your eyes and at least do something if he’s just going to keep standing there.

“I like you, too.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when those words reach your ears. It feels like your heart just stopped beating, your body frozen, and your thoughts bouncing wildly around like a blaster; that crackled laugh (that you know somehow is soft) brings you back to your body, back to the man standing closer to you know and slowly reaching his hand out.

You glance at it before tracing your eyes over the worn out boots that’s seen better days, the scratched and scraped armor that you have shared more than enough time cleaning and polishing, the signet that the Mandalorian never fails to honor proudly, even in his own quiet ways; and now the helmet, the t-shaped visor that shields him.

In this you find no fear. The weight of his hand in yours settles you and the soft link of his pinky with yours brings a stinging to your eyes.

“I can’t do this alone,” he says. “And I want this to work. The Creed -”

“I know,” you interject quietly. “It’s not always going to be easy. But we got this, just like always, don’t we?”

“At least one of us has to.”

His heart warms when the loudest snort he’s ever heard you make jolts the Child from his sleep, blinking those big eyes wearily as your muffled laugher continues against your fingers. “You should get some sleep now,” you tell him. “I got this one.”

It feels very natural to lean down and pick the Child up and smile at Din with assurance; he feels the air in his lungs draw out of him until he literally starts to feel breathless, and his lips stretch in a smile - it’s small and shy; hopeful.

After he makes sure that the hull is closed off and lays his helmet by the plates of his armor (one of the rare times he actually can), settling onto the unforgiving but familiar cot, he imagines you’ll make a fuss about the scar on his nose with a pencil and book in your hands.

Tags: @talesfromtheguild, @absurdthirst, @chews-erotically, @hiwelcometochillys, @legally-a-bastard, @bluengrayfox, @pascaliprincess, @oloreaa, @thisis-theway, @jaynoellef, @ben-is-a-hoe, @hayley-the-comet, @pascalisthepunkest, @kenedyybrooklin, @garrshep, @paintmekala, @marian, @fit-fierce-gamer, @altersw, @hoodedbirdie

#this was so sweet i can't #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #fanfic #request #pedro pascal #anon #i have a little cold and finished this a little loopy *jazz music plays in the background*#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you

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justjessame · 4 years ago

Text

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 62

Billy Butcher buying a pregnancy test. I almost wished I could witness it, almost. If I could leave the bed without the room spinning and making me think that I was going to end up revisiting everything I thought of eating in both our lifetimes, I might have chanced it.

Instead I lay in our bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering just how Billy’s trip to the nearest pharmacy or generic buy anything store was going. Did he even know which one to buy? Did I know which one to buy? Fuck - did I just send Billy on an errand that was going to end in a national incident of epic proportions? Shit.

Terror was trying to get up on the bed with me, but I was in no shape to help him and he was less than excited by my lack of aid and enthusiasm.

“I’m sorry, baby,” groaning, I rolled over and let one of my arms flop off the bed so he could nuzzle my clammy hand. “See, I feel like rancid shit.” He licked my palm and the slobber didn’t exactly help my current predicament, but it was nice to know he still loved me a little bit. “Thanks, I think.” Moving my hand so I could wipe the slobber off on his head - pat him on the head, I smiled as he snorted. “Yeah, well it’s YOUR slime, asshole.”

“Ya wiping snot all over ‘em are ya?” I chuckled as Billy’s voice broke through Terror’s indignation at me returning his slobber to the rightful owner. “Come on, Terror, let’s let ya out, eh?”

Listening as he opened the balcony doors, which led to a set of stairs to the backyard, I waited for him to come back and tell me the tale of his trials to get the test. He was back after a few minutes along with a sniffling dog who was panting and snorting.

“Did you have any trouble?” I hadn’t moved. No energy coupled with the fear that the motion would enact my gag reflex made the idea repugnant. The bed dipped with his weight and I heard the tell tale sound of a plastic bag. “Guess that’s a no.”

“No faith,” one huge hand landed on the small of my back and was rubbing soothingly. “I tell ya, Ronnie, that stings.” My chuckle was muffled against my pillow. “Alright, it was touch and go for a second, there’s a wall of the damn things.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” turning my head, I peeked at him and saw his dimple. “Did you ask for help or did you just wing it?”

“I’ll have you know, Dr. Taylor, I’m a renaissance man.” Biting my lip, I was barely holding back my laughter. “Got no problems admitting when I need some help, so I asked the first person I saw -” I waited. “Clyde didn’t know shite.” I snorted and he rolled his eyes. “Was wearing the bloody vest that all those cunts wear, why wear the damn thing if ya ain’t got a clue?” He shook his head. “Gets out this walkie talkie, but it blasts the question across the damn store like a bullhorn and now the entire fucking world is lookin’ at me and Clyde like we’re expecting a newborn -” Dear fucking GOD. “Finally Jonah comes prancin’ over and nice as ya please, grabs this test and hands it to me.” He sighed and smiled at me. “Whole lotta bloody embarrassment for nothin’ if ya ask me.”

A flutter of fear and worry stirred to life inside of me again. What if it wasn’t NOTHING? What if - what if I WAS? And this time there was NO DOUBT that this little person was 100% Billy Butcher’s.

“Ronnie?” I swallowed so damn hard and loud that his hand went still on my back. “Fuck, I done it again, didn’t I?” I couldn’t answer him, not yet. “Look, if it comes out a plus sign or if it blinks and blares out something that says we’re -” he stopped and slid off the bed so his face was in front of mine. “I love you, and we will figure it out. Together.”

He reached out and brushed my hair out of my face, his fingertips brushing across my skin. “I know you say that, Billy.” I had to get him to understand where I was versus where he was. “I love you too, but we barely agree about Ryan - this, this is completely different.”

“We’re putting the cart way before the horse,” he was so damn stubborn I wanted to scream or slap something - maybe him. “You think you can get up and -” I nodded as best I could. “Let me help ya.”

I was shaky - I had been in bed all damn day - but with Billy helping me I made it to our bathroom. He’d brought the bag that held the test and once he made sure I was safely on the toilet, he opened the test and read the instructions - TWICE.

“Billy, it’s not rocket science.” Staring up at him, he stared back with a look that told me he wanted NO mistakes. “I pee on that end, we cap it, then we wait.” He didn’t think my snark warranted a rebuttal, he just handed me the test and leaned against the counter. “Oh, you’re planning on WATCHING me.”

“Takin’ a piss is a private matter after I’ve bent you over that tub, and after you were on your knees in the shower there with my -” I rolled my eyes and put the stick between my legs and under my stream in the toilet. “See? Not so private.” His arms were crossed over his shirt and his smile was easy, which made me sigh. I finished and removed the stick, holding it out for him to take. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“Cap it while I wipe?” I shook it at him gently and it was his turn to roll his eyes. “I mean, it’s not about privacy, are you grossed out by a little tinkle? Shall we discuss all our shared bodily fluids?” He took the test from me while I wiped and flushed, but didn’t stand - still a little too shaky without help. “How long?”

He told me the time for this test and asked if I wanted to go back to the bedroom. “Can’t be too comfortable sitting on the porcelain throne, love.” He helped me up so I could wash my hands and then, instead of helping me walk back just scooped me up and carried me back. “Don’t argue, Ronnie, you’re ill.”

Billy laid down with me on our bed and I cuddled against him, wanting to ignore the elephant in the room, but knowing we couldn’t. Even if the test was negative, which I highly doubted - Ryan was still waiting in the wings.

“If we are,” he sighed and I shook my head. “I know you want to push that aside until the buzzer goes off, Billy, but we have to talk about it.”

“Why?” He looked into my eyes and I swear it felt like he was seeing all the way to my soul. “Why do we have to if there’s a possibility you aren’t?”

“I think you and I both know that I probably AM.” My fingers slid into his hair and I wished that I could see through him as easily as normal. “Do you really hate the idea so much that it’s an automatic no?”

“I did,” he nodded. “You wrote the book on me, Ronnie,” my eyes shut at the reminder. “You know better than most what my past was like. What my upbringing was like. Why would I think I could do better?”

My eyes snapped open. “Is THAT why you don’t want to?” He nodded. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Billy Butcher.” Sighing, I rolled my eyes. “Why could you do better?” He waited. “Let me think -” I took a beat and started the list. “Look at how you are the hugest overprotective bear of a human, you idiotic shithead.” His eyes went wide. “Hughie would have been a smear on the pavement a dozen times by now, not to mention the others. I’m sure they’ve been in the bullseye thanks to you, too, but you don’t give up on them either, Butcher. My God, having a shit set of parents doesn’t automatically make YOU a shit future parent, in fact, it’s the opposite in most cases.”

“Ronnie, I think you’re -” I slapped his shoulder - hard and he blinked at me.

“Stop it, right fucking now, Billy.” He was staring at me like I’d gone bonkers. “I never wanted to be a mom, ever. Or it wasn’t something I thought about - but if I am going to be one, I sure as fuck want the daddy to be you. You asshole.”

He was blinking at me when I asked how long we’d been waiting. The time had come - since I was useless for mobility it was on him. Still staring at me as if he’d just seen me for the first time, he got out of bed and went to the bathroom where he left the test. And then everything got very quiet.

“Billy?” Nothing. No slamming or screaming. No crying or gasping. Just silence. “Billy?”

I waited, and waited. I finally heard a sound. Quiet, but it was a sound. He was breathing at least. And the waiting game continued until I finally heard him coming back. The bed dipped and then he was curling around my back. His face was pressing into my neck and he was breathing me in, his arms wrapping around me.

“Are you alright?” My hands covered his, our fingers linking. “Billy, please say something?”

“Will you -” He took a deep breath and the heat of it when he let it out felt like it burned my skin. “Ronnie, I need you to promise to tell me if I start being like him - my dad.” My heart stopped, or so it felt like. “I want this, with you, but I won’t if -”

Turning so we were face to face, my hands moved to cup his face - he looked so scared, so unlike the Billy Butcher that everyone thought they knew. “You won’t,” I promised him. “You aren’t him, Billy -” and then I sealed it with a kiss.

#Billy Butcher #billy butcher x ofc #the boys #alternate universe #unplanned pregnancy #pregnancy #mention of smut

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anne-chloe · 4 years ago

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Always

Through her many losses over the years, Wanda is learning to accept her grief.

Wanda/F!Reader (Platonic)

Mentions of violence, blood and death // fluff, angst, platonic love between wanda and the reader

“Where’s Steve?”

Tony glanced up from his project, loose scraps of metal and trinket devices scattered around him, presenting him in a light that reminded you briefly of a compulsive hoarder. He blinked slowly before shrugging his shoulders in a disinterested manner.

“No clue, kid, sorry,” Tony answered in short, waving you off before returning back to his intense thoughts. His skilful fingers worked away at the technical objects, a skill that you often admired. Where Tony found comfort in fixing and creating, you were quite the opposite; you tend to break everything you touch, accidentally, of course.

You stepped out of his lab and wandered back into the main room of the compound, scratching the back of your neck in an obvious frustration. The super soldier had seemingly vanished since breakfast that morning, and to say you were concerned was an understatement.

Eventually, you found yourself pausing in the kitchen, where you spotted Wanda speaking quietly with Vision. The two stopped and glanced over as you began to approach, their conversation fading out as you greeted them with a smile.

“Did you find him?” Vision inquired, now turning half his attention to the diced onion scattered on the chopping board. He wordlessly scraped the vegetable into a frying pan, filling the room with a satisfying sizzle.

You shook your head. “Nope, the old guy seems to have disappeared,” you half heartedly joked, taking a seat at the breakfast counter opposite the duo. “But it can wait, I guess, it’s not overly important.”

Wanda moved around the counter and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you close into a hug. “Your family history is definitely interesting,” Wanda mused, her fingers tangling themselves into your hair, twirling and playing. You leaned into her touch, enjoying the comfort she brought.

Vision started to add chopped mushrooms, bell peppers, crushed garlic and tomatoes to the pan, all filling the air with a delightful smell. “It is highly possible that your grandfather served in the war alongside Mr. Rogers. Have you discovered any possible information that could link them?”

You sighed, beginning to feel doubtful. “No, but I’m aware Steve served in the same regiment that my grandfather did…”

“Might I ask why you want to know? Is it curiosity or desire for knowledge?”

You watched as Vision added some spices to the mix of whatever he was cooking. “I never knew much about my family growing up, but I recently found out that my grandfather passed away. I guess it would be nice to have a connection to something, especially since I was named on his will to inherit his farmhouse.”

“I see,” Vision hummed. He gestured for Wanda to taste his concoction by holding out a spoon; Wanda beamed and gave a supportive thumbs up, pleased with how the dish was turning out.

Tilting your head to the side, you fell quiet as you witnessed the genuine peace settling across her face. For the first time in a long time she was comfortable, and that very realisation made a loving warmth spread throughout your chest.

Later that night, while curled up in bed, you lay silent, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. Everything was quiet, a comfortable quiet that allowed you to recollect yourself. And while you admired the patterns above your bed, you became aware of a person loitering outside your door.

Sitting up, you blinked slowly before flicking your wrist, opening the door with a small ‘click’. Light gushed in to your bedroom, spotlighting you as you squinted to see who it was.

A guilty smile crept up onto Wanda’s face before she entered your room, sheepishly shuffling across the floor in her fluffy slippers. You pulled the duvet back and welcomed her into your bed, wrapping your arms around her before snuggling underneath the covers.

“Your senses are getting better,” Wanda praised with a pleased gleam in her eyes. You chuckled softly, listening to the sound of the door closing again at your incredible willpower.

“Honestly, I had no idea it was you outside,” you admitted quietly.

Wanda’s finger tapped your nose. “And what if I had been a murderer?” She teased.

“A murderer in this building? Impossible,” you retaliated, setting off a shared bubble of giggles.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, and after a minute or so you closed your eyes, welcoming the safe feeling that Wanda offered while with you. The combined warmth of your bodies offered a peaceful opportunity to sleep, and with the past few busy months that had occurred, yourself and Wanda deserved it.

“We should run away together,” you murmured sleepily. Opening your eyes, you locked gazes with Wanda, waiting patiently for her response.

Through the darkness, you could see her smile. “Where would we go?”

“There’s this nice little farmhouse waiting for me in the countryside…”

You felt Wanda shift slightly. “We could have rocking chairs on the porch,” you added gently, your ears now burning red at the exciting idea. “And maybe a chicken coop.”

“We could have a dog and a cat,” Wanda interjected thoughtfully; you felt your heart skip a beat as she hopped onto your idea. “If there’s a stream near by, or a lake, imagine the picnics we could have during the summer season; or the comfort of sitting in front of the fireplace throughout the winter.”

“It’d be so cute having Bertie and Bobby curled up together in front of the fire,” you beamed.

“Bertie and Bobby?”

“Yeah, the dog and the cat.”

Piling cute ideas on top, one after the other, creating mundane scenarios with one another as the night began to creep onwards; you became aware of how much you loved being in Wanda’s presence. She truly was your best friend, your confidant. If anyone could understand you, it was her.

Like you, Wanda had suffered considerably growing up. Having lost her parents, to voluntarily being experimented on with the mind stone, to then losing her brother during the battle in Sokovia. Wanda was pretty much a mirror of yourself, battling through the worlds worst grievances.

To experience a normal life would mean the absolute world to the both of you, having no other choice but to grow up so fast in a world so cruel.

“_____?” Wanda whispered after your hushed giggled died down.

You hummed, feeling the drowsiness sink bank in. You blinked slowly, wishing for the fatigue to disappear, wanting to remain in this very moment for as long as possible.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” You asked softly.

“For loving me,” Wanda answered.

You couldn’t help but smile again. Awkwardly, you moved your hands around under the duvet before locating her hand; you squeezed her hand tightly, bringing your face close to hers before planting a kiss upon her forehead.

“Always.”

…

A chill raced up your spine as you stood defensively across from Tony, whom was clad in his Iron Man armour, an expression of disapproval obvious across his face.

You never thought you’d go against him, not like this, not when your team was supposed to be inseparable. But he’d betrayed the Avengers tenfold; in your eyes, he was turning his back against everything you were supposed to stand for. Without the Avengers better judgement, it would simply became another military asset.

That’s not what you signed up for.

“I’m disappointed in both of you, Wanda, _____.”

You scoffed, heart hammering inside your chest. You were hurt by his words, because Tony’s opinion mattered so much to you. He was there at the beginning of your unravel; he had supported you through the trials calling for your imprisonment, and he had stuck by your side every moment of every day. Countless times he had saved your life, and countless times had you returned such a favour.

“You don’t get to be disappointed, Stark,” you countered coldly, a tone so bitter and low that it felt horrible to use. “You turned your back on us - you tried to lock Wanda away!”

“I was protecting her! I was protecting you!” Tony shouted, exasperated. It was evident that he was frustrated, and underneath his eyes were deep, purple bags, an indication that this entire situation was losing him sleep.

“Protecting us? I think you need to look at a dictionary and improve your knowledge! That suits clearly gone to your head.”

It wasn’t long before a fight broke out. It was brutal; it felt wrong on every level imaginable. To be fighting your family was everything you stood against; you never thought this day would exist or happen, yet here you were, using your powers against the people you had grown to love and care for.

Firmly standing your ground, you aimed your hand at the nearest object - a car - and willed it to move into the air. Power surged through your body and into your fingertips, lighting your mind with excitement and thrill. It was heavy and took a lot of willpower, but you were able to send it crashing into the man clad in the Black Panther suit.

You turned on your heel and took off into the air, landing atop of the nearby aeroplane where you knew your advantage would be. Below, you could see all your friends engaged in some form of fight. Whether or not they were feeling regretful of their actions, you weren’t sure, you could only be positive of your own guilt and shame.

Sensing a trustful twitch in the back of your mind, you threw yourself to the ground as Spider-Man suddenly swept overhead. He landed a few feet away, catching himself before falling over the edge.

“And who are you supposed to be?” You hissed, feeing no attachment for this stranger. Standing to your own defence, you readied yourself for whatever could be thrown your way.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Your eyebrows shot upwards in genuine surprise at the childlike voice. Your stomach sank at the realisation that Tony had recruited a literal child; was he truly that desperate to capture yourself and the others, just to obey the Sokovia Accords?

“This isn’t your fight, kid,” you warned.

“Mr. Stark said—“

You shot out your hand and made a grabbing mimic, lifting Spider-Man into the air and interrupting him mid-sentence. A surprised shriek left his mouth as you dangled him over the edge, furthering him away from your advantage spot.

“Stark lies. Stay out of this fight, you have no reason to be here other than Tony’s desperation!”

Despite being his enemy, you were careful in lowering Spider-Man to the ground. You weren’t aware of his exact age, but you didn’t want to risk injuring a kid. It wasn’t fair bringing an innocent into a fight like this; he shouldn’t be troubling himself with a situation that could snatch away his future. This only made you all the more furious at Tony.

Steve and Bucky made a dash across the airport, followed closely by Sam and Clint. From your high position, you knew you’d be able to stop anything from stopping their getaway. You just had to be quick and not hesitate.

Your eyes locked on to Tony, Nat and Rhodey, who were all advancing towards Steve. You inhaled deeply and conjured as much power as possible to launch objects in their path, just to slow them down and buy your friends some time. It worked, for the most part; wiping out Tony and holding him back.

The Black Panther had his eyes set like sharp daggers on Bucky, a vengeful thirst driving his motivation to catch the Winter Soldier. You were skeptical about Bucky’s crimes and claim to fighting his way to a better life, but you trusted Steve and his judgement best.

As the Black Panther started to veer closer to Steve and Bucky, you intercepted by launching your body into him. You both tumbled off to the side and rolled across the concrete.

You smacked your head and heard a gruesome crack, and a moment of delirium washed over you. The sky swirled and the world danced in circles; your eyes remained unfocused and blurry as you stumbled and tripped to your feet, to your knees before you fell flat on your face again.

You shot out your hand and mimicked a swiping motion, knocking Rhodey off his feet and increasing Steve’s chance of escape. Even if you couldn’t escape with them, you knew what had to be done.

As Steve and Bucky vanished into the storehouse, where an aircraft waited for them, you realised Natasha was nowhere to be seen. A string of curses slipped through your gritted teeth as you attempted to stand again, not ready to lose against Tony.

Before you could make any advancements, within your peripheral vision, you spotted Wanda in a heap of trouble. Your heart hammered in anticipation as she fought with hesitated strength, and you knew that she felt the same as you did.

It wasn’t right fighting against your friends like this. Ideals and beliefs tearing the team apart so easily; yet, you understood why these things had to be done. Not only that but Bucky is a criminal whom needed to be trialed for his crimes, even if he wasn’t fully in control of his actions.

“Wanda! Behind you!” You shrieked, eyes snapping open in horror as she was tackled and pinned to the ground by Vision. He restrained her easily, and while she struggled against him for only a brief moment, you saw the fight leave her eyes as she caved.

Scrambling to your feet, you focused on Visions hands and forced them away from Wanda. A look of betrayal crossed his face, his eyes narrowing in distrust.

“Stop this, _____,” Vision demanded.

Your knees started to shake as the pressure set in. A dull throb spread throughout your head, and your eyes slowly started to blur. With the corners of your sight starting to darken, the world around you growing cold, you finally locked eyes with Wanda.

The faintest of smiles turned at her lips, her reassuring gaze urging you to relax. And you did; you released your hold on Vision and crumbled to your knees, panting and gasping for air. Wanda then mouthed, “it’s okay”.

It was over.

Just like that.

Tony and his team of traitors tore you from the airport and had you imprisoned in the intense safety of the RAFT. A place where powered individuals were locked away, the key thrown overboard; without mercy or empathy.

You curled yourself into a tight ball and stared aimlessly at the wall, lost in your thoughts, trapped with only the doubtful voice that mimicked your every insecurity.

Across from you was Wanda’s cell. She looked exhausted, like she had given up hope. Eventually, when her gaze turned to yours, at the same time, you both offered the tiniest smile, a reassurance that you were both in this situation together, no matter what.

Wanda placed her forehead against the glass and mouthed, “thank you for loving me.”

And you mouthed back, “always.”

…

As battle cries rang out across Wakanda, you found yourself lost in the heat of war. Crossing the field in the fastest sprint you could muster, you launched yourself into the air and knocked into one of Thanos’ children.

You both bounced and tumbled across the dirt floor, rolling far. There, you scurried to your feet and directed your attention onto their hands; weapons clutched tightly and pulled back to strike. You ducked and dodged, fighting back with as much force as you could manage.

With every punch you lay on them, they kicked back tenfold. You didn’t escape each small fight unscathed or unharmed. Blood trickled from fresh wounds, mixing with the sweat and dirt that gathered in lumps across your clothes and skin. But you knew you couldn’t stop, not even when your legs ached and screamed for you to stop.

You slid across the floor and tackled another beast, your hand motioning to grab and tear apart your target. It screamed and shrieked a shrill noise, one that made your ears ring, but you lacked the mercy to stop and consider your actions. It was either them or you.

Thanos was on a bloodthirsty mission for the Infinity Stones; whatever reason he desired them, you were uncertain, but you had been summoned to assist the broken-band of Avengers in their desperate attempts to stop him before irreversible damage could be caused.

The battle raged on, seemingly never ending. Both sides took heavy damage, but neither teams showed signs of surrender.

And then it slowed down.

The world grew darker and darker, and the floor drew closer at an alarmingly fast pace. Your head bounced against the floor, a shrill ringing drowning out the noise of battle around you. Your eyes, unfocused and teary, scanned the world for some kind of answer as a strange sensation expanded in your chest.

There was shouting; incoherent and loud, closer and farther away. You zoned in and out, an odd sense of calm flooding your senses while the sky turned brighter and warmer. Your body temperature dropped considerably, and suddenly the ache in your legs vanished.

Panicked, Natasha scooped you into her arms and dragged you as far as she could from the battle field. A string of reassurances fell from her mouth, hands soaked in blood, a mix of yours, hers and theirs. She fumbled uselessly and attempted to slow the bleeding from the gaping hole in your chest.

“Stay with me, _____! Stay with me!” Natasha aggressively demanded, her eyes often flickering towards the dangers around her, and back to the fading life underneath her. She couldn’t afford to lose you, not like this.

And as your eyes fluttered shut for the last time, your final thoughts drifted to Wanda.

Beautiful, brilliant, Wanda.

…

“Bertie! Bobby! Dinner!” You bellowed into the grassy field, hands clapping together as the twin golden retriever dogs bolted through the garden.

You could hardly see their heads in the blades of grass, but their pants and friendly grumbles assured you of their obedience and loyalty for their promised dinner. You loudly praised the dogs as they ushered past your form, straight into the farmhouse where their meals awaited.

You chuckled and turned, ready to close the door. However, you paused as something caught your attention at the end of your drive. A figure, distant and unmoving, watching you from afar. You blinked and faced them, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on edge.

“_____?”

Wanda.

A grin spread across your face as you darted down the porch with arms spread open wide. You captured Wanda in a tight hug, both of you collapsing to the ground in a heap of relieved laughs and happiness.

“It’s been too long!” You exclaimed after a minute of giggling. You both sat up, unbothered for the grass stains now marking your jeans. You cupped Wanda’s face lovingly and placed a kiss upon her forehead.

“I… I missed you,” Wanda confessed softly, her eyes filling with tears. “You look so healthy— amazing!”

You cast Wanda a strange look. “Missed me? We saw one another last week.”

Wanda began to stumble over her words, a deep red covering her ears. You laughed and poked her nose, and a nostalgic smile spread across her face in awe. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Before you could stand and lead her into your home, Wanda grasped your hand and held you still. You turned to face her, brows furrowing as confusion marked your expression, and it suddenly dawned on you of the sad, glossy tears in her eyes.

You reached out and cupped her cheeks, examining the saddening smile upon her face. “What’s the matter, Wanda?” You softly asked, your thumb gently stroking her cheek, wiping away an escaped tear.

Her hand reached up and grazed your fingers. The touch was gentle, almost like she was admiring you. But what for? She’d not long been with you; a week ago you had both enjoyed some tea and cake inside your kitchen, living in the moment, carefree and young.

“You died, _____.”

Your nose scrunched upwards before a dry laugh escaped your throat. “Very funny, Wanda.”

But Wanda didn’t laugh. She didn’t confess to her joke, nor did she attempt to crack a jestering smile. You pulled your hands away, suddenly feeling a cold chill rush up your spine.

“What are you talking about? I’m right here,” you muttered. You folded your arms across your front, hugging your limbs close in an attempt to stay warm. What happened to the warm sun? It had vanished behind those red clouds in the distance.

“Five years ago,” Wanda explained, her voice unstable and brittle. She seemed to have trouble speaking, and with the added tears rolling down her face, you found it nearly impossible to detect a lie within her words. “Thanos’ children stabbed your heart. You died in Natasha’s arms.”

As if fazed by her words, a dull, phantom ache spread inside your chest. It wasn’t painful, but there was a brief explosion of pins and needles. You winced, stepping back, disbelief setting in.

“Why are you saying these things?”

Wanda’s bottom lip trembled. “Because they’re true.”

You defiantly shook your head. “No, no they’re not. I’m standing right here, Wanda. Look! I’m real! I’m not dead! Look at me!”

“I have memories from the past five years! How would I have those if I had died?” You challenged bitterly.

“Because I gave you those memories!�� Wanda snapped, stepping forwards and grasping your shoulders tight. She shook you slightly, trying to force some sense into you.

“Wanda—“

“What do you remember of our fight against Thanos and his children? What do you remember from Wakanda?”

You glanced between Wanda’s eyes, desperately searching for something to make sense of the situation. But all you could find was sadness; there wasn’t any frustration or irritation present, it was just anguish and despair.

You thought back to the battle in Wakanda, and you quickly found yourself doubting the outcome of events. What had actually happened? Your mind became hazy, filled with thoughts that felt so unreal and false.

“I fought beside Natasha…” you slowly confessed. “We were protecting Vision from Thanos, because he wanted the Mind Stone.”

“And?”

“And…”

But you couldn’t speak anymore. You stopped completely. Drawing blanks and endings that didn’t match, your memory ended there, leaving you an empty vessel with nothing more to say. Wanda understood your silence for realisation, and she knew you had finally pushed away her false reality.

You blinked rapidly, your arms unfolding and your hand pressing gingerly against your chest, where a gaping hole should have been. You could remember the indescribable pain that you had suffered in your final moments; the way Natasha held you close and begged you to stay alive.

“… and I died,” you whispered.

Wanda nodded stiffly. She lowered her gaze, hiding her shame away from you.

“How am I here?” You asked quietly.

A tear rolled down Wanda’s cheek. “I created you.”

Your eyes wandered to the sky, where you finally noticed the abnormality of the red shade. It was like blood, a river racing far and wide across the universe. This wasn’t your reality; how could you have been so blind to this moment?

“Why?”

“Because I missed you.”

Your gaze trailed back to Wanda. She remained still and tense, unmoving as she accepted what she had done.

Inhaling deeply, you let out a small sigh. Holding out your hand, you grasped hers and laced your fingers together, bringing her close and resting your forehead against hers. She sniffled loudly while fighting back a sob, and it took all your willpower to not burst into tears.

A golden glow began shining around your body, a lightweight feeling taking over. It was euphoric and blissful; you felt at peace and somewhat free. For the first time in a long time, you were calm and prepared to die.

“Hey, Wanda?” You mumbled.

Wanda hiccuped, “yes?”

You smiled and pulled away, eyes naturally locking with hers.

“Thank you.”

Her face scrunched in confusion. “What for?” She asked.

“For loving me.”

And as the red started to fade in the sky, a blissful blue taking its place; your body started to fade away. Tiny golden swirls danced and glistened under the daytime sun, swishing and vanishing in the blades of grass.

The farmhouse began to fade, too, disappearing into thin air.

Before you could completely disappear, Wanda released an almighty wail of despair, her hands grasping the air in a futile attempt to make you stay.

And as her reality faded, so did you.

Wanda sobbed and crumbled to the ground, holding close her hands to her chest. Looking upwards to the sky, where the final specs of golden dust lingered high above, she mustered out a final farewell.

“Always.”

#avengers #Wanda #wandavision #female reader #telekinesis #scarlet witch #CACW #infinity war #avengers age of ultron #one shot #angst #fluff #Elizabeth olsen #mind stone #supernatural abilities

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violett-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Paradise

Monotone Donations, Part 2

The two days alone with Dream felt like a walking paradise. You were supposed to sleep on the couch, but after a late night movie screening of The Devil All the Time, Dream and you ended up waking up at noon wrapped in each others arms on the very same couch. It felt right, it felt safe and you never wanted to fall asleep any other way.

So the next night when he pulled you into his bedroom, you followed, hands linked together and fell asleep just as soundly on his chest. You felt him kiss your forehead and you swore he could feel the heat radiating from your face alone.

The two days were spent goofing off, he dragged you to a nearby zoo and you guys walked the entire length of it twice, hands linked together. When the gift shop cashier asked if the small duck plushie was for your boyfriend, who was perusing the plushie section rather intensely, you just nodded. You weren't sure what you were, from the hand holding to him accidently calling you babe once or twice (and maybe you returned the pet name once or twice), but you were sure that you wanted him in your life. And you didn't mind the fact that you guys didn't have a label. Whatever space you guys inhabited felt good and for the moment, that feeling of good wasn't outweighed by your own personal doubts so you allowed yourself to live in it.

You woke up Friday morning to his alarm going off, you two promised Sapnap and George that you would pick them up from the airport. Nick was arriving early in the morning and George would be arriving about midday. You groan slightly, moving to sit up from your position cuddled into his chest. You rubbed your eyes as you yawned and you felt Dream stir beside you.

"Goodmorning, beautiful," He mumbled, his eyes still closed as he moved to wrap his arm around your waist and bury his head in your back.

You giggled, "Good morning, babe." You gently removed his arm and went to the bathroom to do your morning routine. You hopped in the shower and let the warm water run over your back, relaxing your muscles. You heard the door open and you opened your eyes.

"Do you mind if I brush my teeth?" Dream asks, his voice still clouded with sleep.

You roll your eyes, laughing slightly. "Of course you can, it's your apartment." You listen to him brushing his teeth for a moment, smiling. You can't help but wish this was your life. Domestic peace with him. Even just occupying the same space as him was good enough for you.

"Don't use all the hot water. The last time I had to take a very chilly shower." He complains and you laugh again, poking your head out of the shower, making sure it was just your head.

"Alright you big baby. I'll get out soon enough." You tell him and you can't help but notice the faint blush that creeps up his face before you return to your shower, washing your hair quickly so that you don't use all the hot water. You finish up in the bathroom, brushing your teeth and applying minimal makeup before leaving. You wore light washed shorts and a shirt you think you stole from him. You don't remember packing a stripped shirt, but you liked the combination of it and the light washed frayed shorts.

You enter the bedroom and see him standing in front of his closet, shirtless. "Hey, where did my..." He glances over at you and his jaw drops slightly. "Oh." He looks you over for a moment, your heart pounding. You bite your lip and look down at the shirt.

"I think this is yours." You tell him, unable to help the smile that begins to grow on your face.

"You think?" He cocks an eyebrow as he begins to laugh. "How have you been here for only two days and you're already stealing my clothes?" You laugh with him and shrug.

"I'm just that good."

He didn't tell you how much it warmed his heart to see you in his clothes. He didn't tell you how he had always wished to have the kind of relationship where if he was missing certain items of clothing, it was sure to be at your place. He didn't tell you how much he wanted to have the easy going kind of relationship where you two could just be and it never felt forced. And he certainly didn't tell you how much he wanted that with you.

He tossed on a red shirt, quickly pulling it over his head before reaching over for you. He quickly gives you a peck on the lips before leaving the room, leaving you stunned. Did he... did he just kiss you for the first time and then leave? Like it was no big deal? You took a deep breath before grabbing your brush and leaving the room.

He was seated at the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of water and going through his phone. You ruffle his hair as you walk by to look through his fridge. Grabbing a container of apple juice and pouring yourself a glass. You shook the container at him and he nodded, so you filled a second glass. No words needed to be exchanged, a mutual understanding beginning to form between you two. You kiss him on the cheek as you pass by him to sit next to him.

"I think we have to leave in 15 minutes to pick up Nick." He turns to tell you, his fingers reaching out to play with yours. You're beginning to realize that Dream's love language is touch. Whether it be holding hands, playing with your hair, a hand on your leg as he drives, he's always got at least one hand on you. You always hated being touched, it feeling like fire every time someone invades your personal space, but with him it felt like reassurance. Like he was still there and isn't leaving you.

You nod, smiling at him. "Alright, let me grab my bag and we can leave. Can we leave early so we can get some airport coffee?" You ask him excitedly. He laughs at you, rolling his eyes as he nods and you rush to grab your bag on his coffee table.

You two got to the airport just as Nick landed. You guessed he had maybe 15 minutes before he got to baggage claims which was just enough time for you two to get Starbucks, your treat. You basically had to wrestle Dream at the register to prevent him from paying. He already paid for your zoo trip and every meal together, you begged him to at least pay for this.

You two excited waited for Nick at the baggage claim center. Waiting for unmistakable shagging brown hair and scruff to walk out of security. You spotted him first, yelling his name as you jumped up and down, Dream had his hand on your lower back as he grinned.

"Nick!!" You screamed again when he got within hugging distance. You launched yourself at the poor boy, who thankfully caught you, and hugged him tightly. You released him and the two boys shared an intimate embrace, whispering to each other.

"I can't believe we're all here!" Nick said, laughing as he looked in between you two, not failing to notice how you seem much much closer since the last time you all talked.

"We're going to have so much fun. We can go to an aquarium, and the beach, and a nice sit down restaurant, and a movie theater and...." You rushed, excitedly planning out the couple days you four would all spend together.

"Slow down there champ, we're only here for three days. I don't know if we can fit that all in." Nick laughs at you, clapping your shoulder as you three walk out of the airport. You snap a few pictures together at Dream's car. One with all three of you together when you were finally able to wave down someone walking past, one with just you and Nick, and one with just Nick and Dream. You smiled, looking the pictures over in the backseat as Dream drives back to his apartment, a hand sneaking behind his seat to hold your ankle.

Nick and Dream excitedly talk about their lives, filling each other in as if they didn't just talk last night. They talked about how weird it is that their jobs are to stream an actual block game, about college, and George. Nick complained loudly and for quite some time about how he was bamboozled about the vlog and you couldn't help but laugh. You knew from the start that Dream hadn't visited George, not during quarantine. He would never.

When you finally reached the apartment, you three flopped down on the couch. Dream throwing an arm around your shoulder as you sigh. "What now, gamers?" You ask, giggling.

The three of you decided to go get food at McDonalds, the only place the three of you could agree on. You complained loudly, arguing that it was going to upset your stomach but you agreed that some chicken nuggets sound so good right now.

The whole lunch Nick kept looking over at you suspiciously. Whenever Dream's hand out disappear for a while under the table, his fingers rubbing circles on your knee or whenever Dream would offer a sip of his drink to you, you leaning in and looking up at through your lashes at him as you took a small sip. Nick was highly suspicious to say the least.

When you guys finally left the small building, Nick pulled you away from Dream and shooed the man towards the car. "So, are you guys, like... uh dating?" Nick asked you, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

You giggle, your eyes trailing towards Dream whose sitting on the hood of the car, his arms crossed in front of him and staring down at you and Nick. "Why don't you ask him, champ?" You mock what he called your earlier and skip towards the car, a big smile on your face as you get closer to Dream. Dream pulls you in for a tight hug before sitting inside the car, you taking your rightful place as shotgun.

Where you dating Dream? The question floats inside your head for a moment as you stare at the blonde boy driving. Where you dating?

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

Hi hi, there will be another part and then that'll be it for this little diddly.

I hope you liked!

#dream team #dream team appreciation #dreamwastaken #dream #clay #dreamwastaken fanfic #dream fanfic #clay fanfic #fanfic #georgenotfound #george #sapnap #nick

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camilieroart · 4 years ago

Text

Testimony of a French person during the pandemic.

I’m the french person. This testimony is featuring my school’s pressure and a lowering mental state.

I have been quarantined at home since March 2020. I have gone out maximum 20 times, always being really careful. For me and others.

I have a constant source of informations on what is going on in France and the world, and this causes a big flow of anxiety. I spent the entire summer vacation in my house, working on my project and being really productive. I didn’t see anyone, didn’t go anywhere. Just me, my parents and our two cats.

My classmates, however, aren’t as worried nor careful as me, and most importantly not as informed or free to act as they wish. So, they have gone out, and been to beaches and seen people, like the government said. Because yes, as soon as the summer vacation started, the French government declared that the virus was gone and that everyone had to go out and pay for stuffs, and spend money, to “keep the economy rolling”. Of course the Covid was still there.

As the start of the school year was closing in and that people in France had been getting sicker and sicker due to the craziness of the summer holiday, we thought that they would cancel, or at least push back the day. But no.

Around that time, I had also lost my uncle and my grand-mother (not due to the coronavirus), and the pressure of staying home this long, and having constant awful news about outside and how there wasn’t a glimpse of hope was having terrible effect to my mental state.

As back to school day arrived, we had made the decision to not send me back, although the government had said it was “mandatory”. However, I have worked hard all my life to get a diploma and go to a good college and have a degree, and I wasn’t giving up yet. So, we lied. Well, not really. We said we had to bury my grandmother and it was true. So I didn’t come the first week. The second, I catched a cold, and couldn’t make it due to the coughing. The third, I had a stomach ache...

My mother hates lying. She loathes it. It was incredibly hard for her to do so. But she did because if I went, I would probably kill my other grandma and maybe kill my parents. And have scars for life. And contaminate strangers.

What about my classmates, you ask ? They all went. I was the only one, of my whole class, to not have gone back. And boy, was I glad I did. I kept talking to my friends, and I heard how the teachers didn’t respect the safety distances nor put the masks correctly. I heard how in the cafeteria they were all sitting at the same table, pressed against eachothers without a mask. At that time, I already had heard horrible things and how poorly it was handled.

One week, as she had one of the CPE (head of the supervisors) on the phone, my mom had the first breakdown I have seen her have in years. She started crying and explained everything. She cried, and argumented and I was so shocked to see her like this. The truth was out ! I didn’t go to school because the safety stuffs the government put in place was bullshit.

We expected me to be kicked out in the following minutes. But, they couldn’t. I had been giving back all the homeworks and assignments I could, showing I wasn’t quitting. So, they couldn’t kick me out for being a quitter, and they couldn’t kick me out for trying to keep myself, my family and them safe. So they didn’t. Instead, they tried to push me into resigning.

At that point, it had been 5 months since I had really gotten out for something else than groceries. I hadn’t seen anyone, friends or even acquaintances for months. The school and news had been horribly stressing me out, and I had my first breakdown. Around a day after, we had a call from the school’s nurse. She asked me if I was okay, how I was doing, if I was sick... And that I should really go back to school. It’s senior year after all. I told her I heard they handled it badly. She called nonsense and stupid rumors, telling me lies that I immediatly understood were lies, selling bullshit and trying to force me to come back. I was very polite, made her understand that I would be trying if the situation got better, and hung up. It took us a minute to understand that she was trying to get evidence of me being kept home against my will and called social services. She didn’t call for my health at all. Thankfully, I handled it very well and we never heard back from her.

Not long after that incident, I heard of something that happened in my school that made me mad beyond understanding. Since the interns at the boarding school were forbidden from going out, the school decided to put a movie for them Wednesday afternoon. They said they asked students about what they would like to see but I highly doubt it. So, that Wednesday afternoon, when my classmates, seniors in highschool, with TONS of homework they had been working on where called in the auditorium for “informations” they had no choice but to go. The informations were given, and they were about to leave to resume working when the CPE and the deputy director stopped them.

They said my classmates HAD to see this movie, it was mandatory. Let me insist on the fact that they were around a hundred, all in a closed space, in the middle of a pandemic. Yes ? Great. So, my friends protested, saying that they had to work and didn’t want to stay. The deputy director started cutting them off to keep repeating some bullshit like “we made that for you” “we listenned and gave you this” “we worked hard on this”, like 5th graders. Until they said “I’m your superior and I order you to stay. Now shut up and take a sit”. My friends were astonished but did as asked. Which was incredibly unsafe and even dangerous (closed space, no safety distances...). And that movie that was “for the students” and “they worked hard on” was a goddamn movie about the Shoah. And I SWEAR TO GOD, there was panic attacks in the room, breakdowns, terrible reactions, and they didn’t give two shit about it.

And a day or so before, the nursed called to say I had to go back because it was “safe and everything was ok”. I was boiling.

After that incident, one of my teachers requested a call with me to talk about the class I had been missing. Very aware of the manipulative state of my school at that time, we were really careful, and a bit worried about it. Turned out it was a call of a genuine teacher that actually wanted to talk about the classes I had been missing and the homeworks I had been giving ! Of course he quickly tried to get convince me to come back, but I handled it well, once again. It was the highlight of my day.

At that point it had been 8 months since I had last been really out.

I had severals other breakdowns, mostly due to the ungodly stress I had been under because of school and news. I had been stressed out for 8 months now, and what had to happen, happened.

I had a burn out.

My mental state was so low I couldn’t even do what I love. I couldn’t write, I couldn’t draw. All I could do was watch shows and movies, or stare at the ceiling for hours. This was incredibly frustrating and scary. I couldn’t do my homeworks, and we feared I might get kicked out.

Then a miracle happened. Which is sad it got to that, but it was one. My teacher got quarantined, and started online classes. I had my first class of the year on November 14th. And I was there ! I answered tons of questions, and it kind of shocked everyone in class to realize I existed and was still trying to follow the classes.

It allowed to get better, and keep a very small following of school.

A week ago I have been able to do my Spanish homework. I am slowly getting better, trying to avoid stress and work as much as I can.

What I haven’t been able to talk about but did happen :

-One of my classmates caught the virus and she realized it a week later. The school said it was useless to quarantine her now and let her go back to class. The first thing she did was take off her mask and lean in everyone she was talking to. -I haven’t got any of my art classes since the beginning of the year. My teachers made the class believe they were giving it to me when they didn’t. I am specialized in art. -One of my classmates have been diagnosticated with depression. We’re 17. Several others have depression tendencies. -The school is trying to ignore us by not responding to anything we send, hoping we’ll resign. The pressure is still there. -We learned recently that many other parents and students had done the same thing and the schools have put pressure on them too. Some threatened the family. We hadn’t hear about it until now because schools are covering it up -Schools are covering numbers even inside. Most teachers doesn’t even know if a kid has Covid or not. If the teachers get sick, they are forced to immediatly go back to school.

This has been written the 22 november of 2020, in France.

Linked to this post

#history #testimony #true #pandemic #france #france handling the pandemic #covid-19 #coronavirus #school #situation

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realkingjjofwonderland · 5 years ago

Text

what comes after? | jeon jungkook

pairing: jeon jungkook x male reader

word count: 1673

description: (M/n) and Jungkook finally get to catch up after all those years of not speaking.

PART ONE

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a/n: sorry this one took me a bit to write, i didn’t wanna upload it too soon after the first one. i hope you guys enjoy, and if you’re seeing this one before reading tiny fractures please click on the link and read part one! you need to have read that one first in order to have context for this one

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It was almost insane to (M/n) how easily he and Jungkook fell back into their friendship.

He and Jungkook met up at a BBQ place around a week after the award show, Jungkook having preserved a private room so they’d have no interruptions. It felt like time had paused when Jungkook left Busan, and that night someone had pressed the play button. Sure, the two were much older and had been through their own hardships, but the bond the two shared hadn’t faded one bit.

As they got a few bottles of soju in though, their conversation went from familiar bickering to much more serious tones. It began when Jungkook turned to (M/n) with a very serious look on his face. “You know, I’m surprised you agreed to come out tonight.”

“Really?” (M/n) raised an eyebrow, taking a quick sip from his bottle. “Why is that surprising?”

“I figured you hated me for breaking our promise.” There was something about just how honest Jungkook was with that sentence that made (M/n)’s heart break a bit.

“Kook, I could never hate you, for starters.” (M/n) set down his bottle, turning completely toward Jungkook. “Also I already told you the other night, you’re not the only one who could’ve reached out, plus that promise fell onto my responsibility.” A faint smile tugged at Jungkook’s lips then.

“You did come to Seoul at least.” Jungkook chuckled, resting his elbow on the table. “So, be honest, what did you think of BTS?”

“Genuinely?” (M/n) hummed as Jungkook rested his cheek onto the palm of his hand, giving (M/n) a nod after. “My entire group really looks up to yours, including me. I know that seems really generic, but the way you guys use music to bring together all walks of life is incredible. Plus, the music itself is amazing and the choreo is stellar.”

“That means a lot to hear from you, (Nickname).” A large grin spread across Jungkook’s face before he took a sip of soju.

“I’m just speaking the truth,” (M/n) grinned, taking a moment to fully take in Jungkook’s appearance. “You wanna know what’s kinda strange?”

“Hmmm?”

“You’ve grown so much, but you still remind me of a bunny.” (M/n) chuckled, booping Jungkook’s nose lightly. He scrunched his nose lightly, but his smile grew.

“Some things never change.” Jungkook laughed out. “You’re still extremely handsome.”

“Do you really think so, rockstar?” (M/n) batted his eyelashes as he cupped his own chin with his hands. “What an honor to be complimented by someone of your stature!”

“I’m being serious!” Jungkook shoved (M/n) lightly, the two laughing together.

“Honestly though, you’re not messing with me?” (M/n)’s eyes drifted to the table as the serious tone came sliding back in.

“I would never joke about something like that, (M/n).” (M/n)’s eyes widened a bit when he felt a hand lightly grip his wrist, bringing them to look at Jungkook again. His best friend was now sitting up straight and had moved closer to (M/n).

Whether it was the lack of space between them or the soju, something in the air surrounding them changed. (M/n)’s breath hitched in his throat while Jungkook’s eyes scanned over his face. If it hadn’t been for the server walking in to bring them more food, causing the two to practically jump apart, (M/n) wasn’t sure what would have happened. One thing was for sure though, and that was he and Jungkook must’ve had similar thoughts as both of their faces were flushed with embarrassment. Even after the waiter had left, the two kept more than enough distance between each other.

Once the two had finished their food and Jungkook paid, the two ended up lingering in an alley near the restaurant. Even if things had grown awkward, neither one wanted the night to end yet. “Do you have a ride home?” Jungkook asked as he glanced around, slipping his face mask on.

“No, I was just gonna walk. My dorm isn’t too far from here, maybe about a fifteen minute walk?” (M/n) hummed out, swaying a bit as he still felt fuzzy from the soju.

“I’ll walk with you then, I’ll just let my ride know where I am.” (M/n) could tell Jungkook was grinning by the way his eyes crinkled up, and just that along had him beaming from ear to ear.

“Okayyy! This way then!” Jungkook had to move quickly as (M/n) took off out of the alley way, being coherent enough to at least get (M/n) to slip on his own mask.

What (M/n) claimed to be a fifteen minute walk was actually an hour long walk if you included all the times Jungkook had to keep him from getting distracted, forty-five if you didn’t. By the time they reached the dorm, it was very late and Jungkook knew it was too late to call anyone. (M/n) immediately offered for Jungkook to sleep over, but even after they had gotten all the way to his room Jungkook was still unsure on if it was okay or not. “Look if anyone has an issue with it, I’ll talk to them. I highly doubt they would, I mean they all seemed relieved to know I finally talked to you.”

“So they know about our past?” Jungkook asked as (M/n) searched through his closet.

“I’ve known Chunsoo since I first came to JYP, and the others found out when you guys released DNA.” (M/n) explained before tossing a shirt and pair of shorts to Jungkook. “Do you mind sharing a bed?”

“Not at all.” Jungkook smiled softly, waiting until (M/n) turned back toward the closet to change.

An awkward silence fell over them as both of their thoughts roamed back to the restaurant. (M/n) felt a blush creep up his face as he thought about just how close they were, and how part of him wished the waiter hadn’t walked in. Jungkook seemed to have a similar train of thought as he walked over to (M/n), placing a hand on his arm. (M/n) turned around to look at him, not quite expecting for Jungkook to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him closer. “Kook?” (M/n) whispered as his eyes scanned over Jungkook’s face, the air turning electric again.

“Yes, (Nickname)?” Jungkook whispered back as his face inched closer to (M/n)’s, his eyes shifting between (M/n)’s and (M/n)’s lips.

“I’m not sure if it’s the soju talking, but I think I like you more than just as a friend.” (M/n) could hear his heart pounding in his ears as Jungkook smirked a bit.

“I think that feeling is mutual.” Jungkook closed the gap between them then, their lips connecting as (M/n)’s hands gripped onto his shoulders.

It didn’t take long for the two to slowly make their way toward the bed, their lips not breaking contact until (M/n) accidentally backed up too far and ended up falling back onto the bed with a loud squeak. In the process, he had gripped onto Jungkook’s shirt and ended up pulling him down as well. The two broke out into fits of laughter after that, Jungkook resting his forehead on (M/n)’s shoulder.

“I’m so glad we bumped into each other again.” (M/n) sighed out when the laughter died down, running his fingers along Jungkook’s forearm.

“Literally bumped into each other.” Jungkook snorted, getting a light smack from (M/n) on said forearm.

“Watch it, rockstar.” (M/n) grinned wide as Jungkook lifted his head, a slightly cocky smirk playing on his lips.

“What am I watching, popstar?” (M/n) went to make a retort, but he quickly shut his mouth as a blush began to creep up his cheeks again. “What is it?”

“I never expected you to find a counter nickname.” (M/n) mumbled before hiding his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck.

“Why am I actually not surprised?”

(M/n)’s eyes shot open as the sound of Chunsoo sighing. He looked over to see Chunsoo and Taehwan standing in his doorway with their other two members peaking their heads in. “When we agreed you could have a room to yourself, we did not mean you can bring random people home.”

“Technically they aren't random?” (M/n) let out a nervous chuckle as he looked over to see Jungkook still sound asleep.

“HOLY SHIT IS THAT JEON JUNGKOOK?!” Their youngest member, Jaehui, screeched just before their other member, Jungho, could cover his mouth. Jungkook flinched at the screech, blinking his eyes slowly. When he lifted his head and saw the four people in the room (M/n) could tell it made him feel nervous.

“Alright, alright I’m up now so you guys can go!” (M/n) piped up as he stood, shooing Chunsoo and Taehwan out the door.

“I didn’t know you were gay, but I’m glad you and Jungkook truly made up.” Taehwan whispered teasingly as (M/n) had to practically push him completely out of the room. “Be safe you two!”

(M/n) sighed in relief once he shut the door, making sure to lock it to prevent any further interruptance. When he turned around to apologize to Jungkook, he was surprised to find him standing right behind him. “I um… Hi.” (M/n) mumbled out as he bit his lip, looking up at Jungkook as he moved closer.

“Hey.” Jungkook chuckled, wrapping his arms around (M/n)’s waist. “What’s your schedule like today?”

“Today is our free day, why?” (M/n) wasn’t sure how it felt so natural for him to be in Jungkook’s arms, but he wouldn’t dare question it.

“Same here, wanna just lay in bed and play video games together like when we were younger?” Jungkook grinned, swaying a bit with (M/n).

“I would love to.”

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x male reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts #bts x reader #bts x male reader #bts imagine #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #kpop imagine #imagine #fluff #i may have reignited my love for jungkook with this one #whoops

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asherlockstudy · 5 years ago

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I got into gmm fandom this year and I love these 2 old men extremely, and I recently read your discussions about Link's psyche and the ear biscuits commentary and I totally relate to you. I couldn't find anything that you wrote about the competition eb#255. I'm very interested in your thoughts on this particular episode since your ideas on their psychology really fascinates me. Will you please share?

First of all, thank you for your kind words!

The truth is I certainly have an opinion on the competition episode but I was hesitant to post anything about it because I wasn’t sure whether that would push any boundaries. Since you asked, I am going to tell you, but I would like to stress to any MB who will read this that this theory / analysis works through a Rhink perspective or at least the perspective of an intense friendship, which I think their friendship is anyway, so you need to be in that mindset from the beginning. This is obviously my personal take on their conversation; the way the puzzle pieces fit inside my mind if you will. It can be as far from the truth as Rhink itself in general. Technically it can be read out of the Rhink lens but IMO it makes more sense this way, so I’m gonna tag this only as #rhink.

Now let’s actually go to the topic in question. Rhett and Link are both competitive but in different ways and for different reasons and to different targets.

Rhett is naturally competitive. Or maybe not naturally per se, as I think this competitiveness was planted inside him by his father. His father expected him to be good at everything, an expectation that Rhett then internalized and simply never escaped from. His competitiveness might be maximized by feelings of insecurity and self-consciousness. If Rhett cares so much what people think of him, it’s only natural that he wants to ensure that people will think highly of him and that requires him to be good, look good and always perform well. The more Rhett loves and is loved by a person, he’s sooomewhat more relaxed in revealing his weaknesses. Rhett is always competitive but he’s less competitive with his close friends and family than with strangers. Rhett would take 100 defeats from Link than one from any other youtuber. And like he said, Rhett doesn’t mind losing to his sons because he wants them to do well and because, duh, they are McLaughlins and they are proof success still runs in HIS family.

Link is insecure too but handled it for the most part of his life in a completely different way. I have the impression that until 5-6 years ago Link had resigned and lived defeated inside his insecurity. His own insecurity stems from lack of self-worth, which probably stems from feelings of abandonness in his childhood. Let alone that if there’s any truth to the queer!Link theory, he also felt socially and religiously alienated from everyone around him, most importantly Rhett, and all this suffered in silence. This is why his insecurity is associated mostly with the people close to him and not strangers. Link doesn’t care much if random people think poorly of him which is why he’s not self-conscious and can talk to people. But Link is hurt a lot if a person he loves a lot doubts him or mocks him or simply doesn’t regard him very highly. He has a primal fear of getting taken in, abandoned or betrayed. He’s grown to become a suspicious person, often entertaining the worse case scenario, fearing that a person he loves could actually not love or respect him back as sincerely. As an example, from everything they’ve said I have the impression Link adored Rhett when they were children. He looked up to him and Rhett was some sort of role model for him. Link didn’t have many other friends and certainly not others like Rhett and the rest of his time he spent mostly alone in his home. Meanwhile, Rhett had more variety in his life: he had other friends, including Ben whom he admired so much, hobbies and an obsession with girls. So it’s safe to assume that Link was more “there” for Rhett than Rhett was “there” for him, without that meaning IN ANY WAY that Rhett didn’t love him as much. But Link couldn’t know that - and when Rhett was busying himself with something else, his feelings of abandonness and lack of self-worth intensified.

I think Link never escaped from these feelings.There were some GMM episodes where Link has implied that he often feels Rhett takes him for granted and shouldn’t. In short, Link loathes that he feels uncertain in his friendship with Rhett whereas Rhett feels perfectly sure in it. This, especially at a point 4-5 years ago, when Link started changing stylistically and in the way he carried himself (we can only guess why), it was also the time Link’s efforts to fight that feeling of defeat especially around Rhett reached their peak.

I trust Rhett’s input in this. I don’t doubt Rhett senses competitiveness coming from Link’s side. What Rhett might not understand is that Link is not globally competitive but mostly towards certain people, including him, first and foremost. Things such as vanity, overt enthusiasm when winning, “OOOOH HA-HA-HA-HA” when Rhett got insulted, “I prefer time with my wife”, “I can’t be always there for you”, “I have other friends beside you Rhett” are some random examples of this overcompensation that is the unconventional competitiveness Link feels against Rhett. “Against” is a strong word though because I believe Link doesn’t do any of this to bring Rhett down but rather to go up and be on the same level as him. NOTE: I don’t believe Link is in any way lower, I believe Link fears this is the case. Link dreams of an entirely equal and balanced relationship between them, not because it isn’t so, but because he has invested so much in Rhett that he constantly fears everything he can lose. He wants Rhett to look up to him, to admire him so that he can keep him, and moreover keep him eternally interested and intrigued. In short, he wants Rhett to feel the way he feels about him and he thinks this cannot be as long as Rhett takes him for granted or doesn’t take his skills, mind, virtues and looks seriously. Furthermore, his tendencies to take most of the control in their job and be a perfectionist could also be connected to all that and increase his anxiety associated with the stability of their job.

The problem is that Rhett perhaps doesn’t understand the motive behind Link’s behaviour and interprets it as plain old competitiveness. He’s however, as I felt in the podcast, troubled by it being targeted to him. A remark like “I have other good friends too” is something that makes Link feel more independent from Rhett but Rhett could occasionally get hurt and think “Okay but why does he have to say this to me?”.

This unavoidably is channeled in their business too. A duo of internet celebrities? That’s like the recipe of guaranteed failure! Even non-competitive people have destroyed their businesses and friendships this way. What Rhett and Link have managed so far is world record. Part of their success is how open they are to each other about how they feel. In fact, it was very healthy of Rhett to confess openly that he has some level of “mild envy” about Link doing well in various aspects of the show. This means that Rhett sat down when he experienced these feelings, had a talk with himself and reached the conclusion that he was very happy Link was doing well. He just felt he had to push himself to be as good - not better - so that he would not feel bad about himself contributing in this show, in this business. And in short, Rhett feels he need to compete with Link in being as likable to the viewers. I consider this totally understandable.

Link was reluctant to speak openly throughout the whole episode. And that was because his answer was not that easy. From everything he said, I was positively surprised that it seemed Link has it all laid out very clearly in his mind - how he acts and why. He just wasn’t willing to explain, particularly in public. This becomes clear towards the end of the podcast - when Rhett is essentially about to lose his mind because Link denies everything, Link starts to say something only to stop and decide he shouldn’t do it eventually. More importantly, Link adds in the end that Rhett made the big mistake to base his understanding of Link’s competitiveness in minor conventional things such as games and job performance. Link said that Rhett was stripping their relationship off of way too many parameters that he wasn’t taking into consideration to reach a valid conclusion. So indeed Link’s competitiveness is a very personal topic with deep roots and IS connected mostly (if not exclusively) to his relationship with Rhett. Link doesn’t want to be better than Rhett either - he wants to be as good as Rhett and be liked by the viewers. Not for the viewers’ sake but in order to rub it in Rhett’s face later. Again, he doesn’t want to hurt Rhett - this is likely a desire for guaranteed continuous attention from Rhett, whatever it takes.

Furthermore, Link always makes sure to draw attention from the audience as much as Rhett, if not more, (which could be fundamentally what Rhett interprets as competitiveness and doesn’t know how to regulate) which is Link’s way to ensure he’s not taken for Rhett’s sidekick (in his own words) by either the viewers or Rhett himself, because inside Link’s full of concerns mind this hits a little too close to home.

Now, if there’s any truth to Rhink, intensify this by 10x.

#rhink #anon #ask #mail #mythical

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evilmuffinlord · 5 years ago

Text

Better Together-Chapter 8- Party Rockers

On to chapter eight, in which a party is attended, friendships are forged, and one kidnapping is foiled.

Thank you to everyone who has been so patient with this fic. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get this chapter completed. Hopefully the next one won’t be quite as delayed.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19985089/chapters/64346437

Or on FF.Net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13359634/8/Better-Together

Cover art by: https://mari-lair.tumblr.com/

Teaser below cut

“So, who’s ready to party?” Mina asked the crowd that had assembled in front of the school gate.

To her utter delight, the entire class had gathered there once school had let out. Sure, some looked bored, others hesitant, and Bakugou had needed to be physically dragged there by Midoriya, but they had all come in the end.

She’d honestly been expecting at least a few of them to skip out, given what they’d gone through that day. If she hadn’t been the one who had organized the whole thing, she would have been sorely tempted to. She’d put her all into the battle with Midoriya and Mineta earlier, and there was a very vocal part of her that just wanted to go home, soak her feet, and watch trashy T.V. for the rest of the evening.

But here they all were, ready to come out and have a good time with her. Her heart swelled with gratitude, and she promised herself that she would turn it up to eleven and be the best host of the best party that any of them had ever attended.

“I am!” Kirishima called, slipping into his role as ultimate wingman with ease.

“I must admit, I am rather excited as well,” Yaoyorozu said demurely. “I have never had the opportunity to visit a public karaoke parlor, especially not with friends.”

“Do you have strict parents?” Kaminari asked. “Or are there just no good karaoke places where you live?”

“Oh no, the movie theater we have at the house comes with a karaoke function. But neither of my parents particularly like karaoke, and asking one of the maids to join me felt rather disingenuous, since they would be obliged to participate no matter what their feelings on the subject.”

Mina took a moment to be absolutely blown away by the fact that Yaoyorozu’s family apparently had a private movie theater. It was obvious that the girl was rich, both from the way she acted and from the way she dressed, but that was another level of wealth entirely. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever met someone that well off before.

What she was sure of, however, was that she was definitely going to set up a girls’ night at Yaoyorozu’s place sometime. Now that would truly be an evening to be remembered.

“Well then, we’ll be sure to make your first time extra special,” Mina said, ignoring Mineta’s snort of laughter over the comment.

“My thanks,” Yaoyorozu replied.

“No problem!” Mina said, flashing her a bright smile. Then she clapped her hands together to draw everyone’s attention. “C’mon everyone! Follow me if you wanna have the best time ever!”

---

“You really know how to pick em Raccoon Eyes,” Katsuki said as they arrived at their destination.

Izuku would never say anything, but he had to admit the karaoke spot Ashido had chosen was a little… underwhelming.

The building was a graffiti-covered concrete square tucked into a back alley, with only a small sign above the door to let them know that they had found “The Karaoke Cave.” The few visible windows were covered with thick paper to prevent any light from leaking in, and the door itself had seen better days.

Izuku was actually rather surprised to see so much graffiti, given the fact that they were still relatively close to UA. Most delinquents wouldn’t be willing to openly act out so close to the campus. He silently hoped that they wouldn’t run into the delinquents responsible. He had no desire to meet people that bold and rebellious.

“How about you try finding a place that will take a party of 20 students on short notice, and that we can still afford?” Ashido said, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at Katsuki.

He grumbled a little, but didn’t say anything further. Ashido apparently took this as a victory, since she let a grin spread across her face and turned to face the group.

“Look, I know it doesn’t look like much, but that just means we have to make it fun for each other. So put on a smile, and get ready to sing your hearts out, because I’m making sure every one of you gets up on stage at least once!”

Izuku swallowed hard. He had been counting on blending into the background so he wouldn’t have to sing anything. It might still be possible for him to do that, but considering that Ashido was already looking at him and grinning evilly, he highly doubted it.

“You guys better be prepared to be awed!” Kaminari said, adopting a ridiculous pose that involved him crossing his arms in front of himself and extending his fingers into peace signs. “I’m an expert rapper!”

Jirou suddenly broke into a coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like suppressed laughter, leaning on Yaoyorozu for support. The reaction took a lot of the wind out of Kaminari’s sails, but did little to deter Ashido.

“That’s the spirit! C’mon guys!”

She led them into the lobby where a bored woman was in the middle of painting her nails at the front desk.

“We have a reservation under—” Ashdio said, only to be cut off.

“Through the door over there, the third room on the right. You have it for three hours,” the receptionist said, not looking up from her nails.

Ashido deflated a little at the receptionist’s attitude. “Awww, you’re not even gonna let me say it?”

The receptionist shook her head, and finally turned her gaze towards them. “Nope. We get people putting down joke names every day, and I’m tired of it. If I hear one more person registering as the Donner party, I’m going to scratch their eyes out.” To emphasize her point, she flexed her hand and her meticulously painted nails suddenly lengthened and became razor sharp claws.

“Okaaaay,” Ashido replied, backing away slowly, “we’re just gonna go sing now.”

“Have fun or whatever. Don’t make a mess,” the receptionist replied, returning to her cuticles.

“Did you really put us down as the Donner party?” Uraraka asked, once they were a safe distance away from the terrifying worker.

“Nuh uh,” Ashido said, shaking her head, “I put us down as ‘Mina and the Chipmunks.’ I have no idea why she started talking about reindeer.”

“I believe she was referring to a different Donner,” Yaoyorozu said with a chuckle.

“Well that’s just confusing,” Ashido replied, pouting slightly.

Before their conversation could continue any further, they reached the room that they had rented.

To Izuku’s surprise, it was much more inviting than the exterior of the building would have implied. The room was large enough to house their entire class with only minimal squishing, and plenty of couches and chairs for everyone to have a seat when they weren’t singing. These were arranged around a large table that was covered in various menus and song lists. A pair of tablets were resting on it as well, with charging cords trailing off behind one of the couches and presenting a tripping hazard if they weren’t careful. Finally, a large T.V. took up most of the right wall, displaying the words ‘Karaoke Cave’ bouncing around on the screen while it waited for someone to use it.

“Whoa, this place is way nicer than I thought it would be,” Kirishima said as he stepped into the room.

“Yeah, I was kind of expecting a dump from the outside. Nice pick, Mina!” Hagakure said, dropping onto one of the couches.

Ashido, for her part, looked relieved that everyone had come around on the venue. A massive grin was plastered across her face, and she was bouncing slightly as she looked around the room.

Izuku was glad to see her so happy. A part of him had been worried that she would take her loss during their mock battle earlier that afternoon hard, and maybe even hold it against him. Instead, she seemed to be just as upbeat as ever.

“Yo, what’s with this song selection?” Kaminari called, brandishing one of the tablets over his head, “I haven’t heard of any of these.”

Jirou picked up the second tablet, then snorted when she saw what was on it.

“I bet you only listen to the top forty then. This stuff is old school. Like, I think my parents have a few of these on vinyl.”

“Perhaps they only feature songs that are in the public domain?” Yaoyorozu ventured.

“Maybe. Hope you guys like classics,” Jirou replied.

“Eh, I’ll make do. Now, let’s get this party started!” Kaminari said, picking up the tablet once more.

“Hold on a moment!” Iida said, loudly enough to grab everyone’s attention. It took a few moments for everyone to quiet down, which Iida took as a chance to move to the front of the room where they could all see him easily.

“Given that Ashido was the one who organized this event, I think it is only proper that she is allowed to sing the first song. Assuming she wants to, of course.”

“I agree,” Yaoyorozu said, standing up as well, “If there is anyone who deserves to go first, it is the hostess.”

A chorus of agreement followed the statements, as well as some applause for the one who had brought them all there.

“Awww, thanks guys!” Ashido said, flushing a little bit at the applause.

“Thank us by singing an awesome song!” Kirishima called.

“Now that I can do!”

Read the rest on AO3 or FF.net! Links available on my tumblr page if they get broken here again.

#mha #izuku midoriya #mina ashido #izumina #fanfiction #writing #my writing #dekumina #minadeku #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #better together #quirk!izuku

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