#but i think how easy it ultimately comes to him even when that's challenged by his personal hurt later kinda. cheapens it a bit?

[larrythefloridaman]

google :)

love u goog <3

[golden-barnes]

Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't play favorites but Amaya is definitely his favorite, especially because her mom is hot.. Cue a 6-year-old trying to get Bucky to be her dad. {wc: 2.2k}

Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure but not that much, Karen parent being annoying, bucky is a fool but amaya is gonna fixed it.

a/n: I've been sitting on this for months but I had to step back from this account bc of everything. thankfully I finished this before my electricity went puff but not my best job. pls have mercy bc I'm rusty.

Part 2

Bucky knew there weren’t many male first-grade teachers. But honestly, it was his dream job. He was teaching the country's future and helping them become better people.

Also, 6-year-olds love him, especially with his fantasy land classroom he forced Steve to help decorate. Bucky loved being a teacher, and he loved his kids. Relatively easy to get up every day at 6 am when you love your job. 

That being said, he knows he shouldn’t have a favorite student. So it’s basically written in the teacher’s rule book. 

But Amaya was undoubtedly his favorite of his unruly kids. She was very spirited. Amaya loved helping out her classmates and talking to them. She was just the best student he had ever had.

She is amusing. Every day she comes to him with a story about her mom. Unfortunately, Bucky hadn't met her yet because she was busy with work. Still, he interacted with Amaya’s second contact, Natasha. 

At this point, Bucky feels like he knows her. How she likes tulips. Her favorite color is pink, which is Amaya’s favorite, but that’s a funny coincidence. He knows that Amaya and her mom go to the museum every week on the day they have special events for kids. Amaya’s favorite exhibit is the one about mythical creatures. 

“Momma likes the one with the paintings. She likes the one with the man who gives the girl a flower.” Amaya tells Bucky. Amaya always goes to Bucky’s desk after finishing her classwork because if she doesn’t, she distracts her classmates. Or give her classmates the answers, so this is the only way to keep her entertained. She always takes this time to draw something for Bucky to hang on his wall of drawings.

“Oh, Mister Bucky! Momma is going to come to pick me up today.” Bucky cursed mentally, completely forgetting today was parent-teacher conference. 

Talking to 6-year-olds was a lot easier than talking to adults. Especially when you are telling parents that their kids are having problems. The worst part of the job, honestly. If Bucky could just teach his kids, send letters to the parents, and never interact with them, he would. 

“Going to meet the elusive Miss (Y/N)?” Steve, his best friend, asked. Because of budget cuts, Steve was currently the art teacher for the entire school. Did he like it? Probably not having the kindergarteners put glitter in his hair, but he enjoyed a challenge. 

“Apparently,” Bucky mumbled, opening his lunch. Just a ham and cheese sandwich because he was running late.

“She finally showing up to a conference?” Sam asked, heating up his lunch. Sam was the history teacher for the 4th and 5th graders. He was also a pain in Bucky’s ass, but he decided not to think about it and focused on his incoming stomach ache. 

Fuck, now Bucky had to clean his classroom and prepare everything. What if one of those Karen parents shows up and starts complaining about stupid things? About how his classroom is Lord of the Rings theme and how that's bad for kids? Maybe about how he’s a male teacher? He is already spiraling.

“Oh, you are talking about Amaya’s mom? I met her when I was Amaya’s kindergarten teacher. She’s really nice and - “ Wanda started talking but was interrupted by her twin brother Pietro, the gym teacher. 

“She is also smoking hot. Like ultimate Milf in this whole school. ” He comments, which makes Bucky feel even worse because how will he talk with a pretty girl? He hasn’t done that since college. 

Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother and sat down next to Steve to eat her lunch.

“You’ll be great though, Barnes. She’s really nice, and you are a great teacher, so you won’t have any problems with her.” Wanda reassures her coworker. Bucky takes a deep breath and takes another bite off his sandwich. 

“And I still  believe my son should be seated in the front.” Mrs. Robinson complained, which she had been doing for the past hour and a half. Going past the hour dialogue they are supposed to be having. But since Amaya’s mom is running late.

“Mrs. Robinson, I understand, but some kids in the classroom require specific accommodations. Because of that, the entire front row is taken. So I can’t sit Tommy in the front. “ Bucky explained for the 10th time. Mrs. Robinson just rolled her eyes and huffed. 

Before she could complain again, someone knocked on the door. A woman in formal and professional clothing stepped into the classroom. Amaya popped into the classroom with the brightest smile.

“Mister Bucky! I brought Momma!” She screamed excitedly. Amaya’s mom tried to quiet her, but from Bucky’s experience, Amaya is impossible to corral. 

“Well, Mrs. Robinson, my 4 o'clock is here.” Bucky said nervously, trying to politely kick out Mrs. Robinson and her big-ass attitude. 

“We could discuss this further in another parent-teacher conference.” It took everything for Bucky not to roll his eyes. Fucking self-observed parents think their children are the only ones that matter, Bucky thinks to himself.

“Sorry for my tardiness; I got held up at work.” Amaya’s mom apologizes. Woah, she really is pretty, Bucky thinks.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” Bucky says, trying to catch his breath. 

“Please call me (Y/N).” She smiled sweetly at Bucky. Bucky gulped.

“Let me get to the point; Amaya is a fantastic student. One of the best. She is above her group’s reading level. She writes pretty clearly for her age. No complaints from me; whatever you are doing at home is workin’.” Bucky explained, (Y/N) smiling at her daughter, who was too entertained with Bucky’s snowball on his desk. 

“Thank you, but I can’t take that much credit. Maya absolutely adores you.” Bucky blushes at her praise. 

“She’s a good kid; it’s easy to teach kids like her.” Bucky praised Amaya, who was surprisingly quiet. Which would scare Bucky because if there’s one thing he learned from teaching first graders is that quiet means trouble. But he dismissed it because she wouldn’t do anything wild with her mom right next to her.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, for everything. With getting a new job and having to provide for my family, you’ve literally given me so much peace.” (Y/N) leaned in closer. 

“If I am being honest, I was worried about ‘Maya’s performance at school. “ She whispered, but Bucky gave her a reassuring smile. 

“Amaya, could you please give these papers to Mr. Rogers?” Amaya nodded and grabbed the papers Bucky had handed her. Then, Bucky sent a text to Steve telling him to keep Amaya out of his classroom to talk to her mom.

“I haven’t noticed a difference in her behavior if that makes you feel any better,” Bucky reassured her. She sighed.

“I am worried about her. Ever since she was born, her dad has been in and out of her life. Now he has disappeared for good. Amaya has been acting like it doesn’t bother her, but no first grader should hide their feelings.” She confesses. Bucky wants to do two things. 1) kick Amaya’s father for being a piece of shit and abandoning such a precious child and her mom. And 2) himself for getting excited by hearing that (Y/N) is single. He can already hear his mother chastising him.

“I’m so sorry to hear that (Y/N).” Bucky said earnestly. She just shook her head.

“It’s okay. Any advice for me?” She said in a joking tone, trying to alleviate the tension. Bucky lets out a nervous chuckle. 

“Just keep being there. In my experience, being present and making the child feel like they have a support system is the best way to help them during this difficult time.” Bucky smiled at her. 

“Thank you. See you on Monday?” (Y/N) said, getting up from her chair.

“Yes. Definitely.” Bucky felt his heart beating at a faster pace. 

This school year was definitely going to be interesting. So Bucky thinks, watching Y/N walking out of his classroom.

What Bucky doesn’t know is that Amaya plans to make life more enjoyable. She was supposed to be sleeping, but she heard Auntie Tasha’s voice and decided to say hi.

“Nat, you could’ve warned me, you know!” (Y/N) explained. Natasha laughed, handing her best friend a glass of wine. 

“He is hot, isn't he?” Natasha grins. Amaya looked at her mom, who had a goofy smile. She has never seen her mom with a smile like that. 

“Ridiculously hot. And his eyes? Nat, his eyes are just so gray. I almost spilled my entire life story right there and then.” (Y/N) groans. Natasha just laughs.

“It should be illegal to have a first-grade teacher look that hot.” (Y/N) added, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Just wait till you see him in casual Fridays. That man looks excellent in a Henley. “ Natasha joked, but that seemed to disturb (Y/N) even more. “Look out ‘Maya you might have a new daddy.” 

What auntie Tasha said made Amaya think. Mister Bucky was her favorite teacher, and she wished her momma would be happy. Them together would mean that she would have Mister Bucky around forever, and Momma would be happy and have a goofy smile like that forever. 

That’s when Operation get Mr. Bucky and Momma together was born. 

Every day after finishing her classwork, Amaya would go to Bucky’s desk and talk to him. Most of the things she said were little seeds to push him to get close to her mom.

Today was different; Amaya’s patience was thinning. A week passed, and every day when her mom would pick her up, she saw the googly eyes her mom and Mister Bucky were giving each other. It’s time for the big guns, Amaya thought.

“Mister Bucky, do you have a dad?” Buck was shocked at Amaya’s question. 

“Yes, I do.” Amaya sighed dramatically after hearing Bucky’s answer. 

“I don’t… I wish I knew what that was like.” Bucky’s heart broke hearing that. Amaya had her head down, but Bucky couldn’t see her smirk. 

“You will one day. I promise.” Bucky knew he shouldn’t say that but wanted to uplift her and give her hope.

“Hey, Mister Bucky, maybe you could be my dad!” Amaya said, doing a complete 180 in her demeanor. Bucky almost spits out his coffee, and he starts to cough. But unfortunately, he fell right into Amaya’s trap.

“I don’t know about that, Amaya,” Amaya smirks. 

“But Mister Bucky, momma already likes you. You would be a great dad.” Was it embarrassing for Bucky that his 6-year-old student was trying to hook him up with her mom? Maybe but hearing that said mom liked him did give him a bit of an ego. 

“Really?” Amaya nodded enthusiastically. 

“She said that she really likes your eyes.” Amaya admitted. Bucky knew he shouldn’t be asking these questions. If Sam knew, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. 

“Is there anything else she said?” Bucky asked, acting casually as if a 6-year-old was gonna read his body language. However, Amaya is too smart for her own good. 

“I heard her telling Auntie Jen that she liked it when you wear red shirts.” Bucky made a note to buy more red shirts after school. 

“Is your mom going to pick you up today?” Bucky asked; Amaya nodded. 

“She said we were going to the mall today,” Amaya explained. She could feel her plan working, but who knows? Grown-ups were weird.

Bucky’s heart needs to catch a break. That being said, seeing (Y/N) every afternoon, his poor heart won't be getting any. Especially when she came in with her lawyer suits. It was like a punch in the gut. 

But what really hit him like a punch in the gut was what Amaya said when her mom came to pick her up.

She grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards her mom, who was waiting outside the classroom. 

“Momma, Bucky said he would be my daddy.” Amaya said with the biggest grin. Bucky choked on his own saliva and started coughing. While (Y/N) just started laughing. 

“Did he now?” (Y/N) asked her daughter, that was excited that her plan “worked.” 

“I- uhm. I didn’t say that she took it out of context. But, I mean- I” Bucky’s ramble was interrupted by (Y/N).

“It’s okay, Mr. Barnes. I know how Amaya can be. Don’t worry.” Bucky sighed out of relief. 

“Mommaaaaa…” Amaya whined; her mom just rolled her eyes. 

“Yes, ‘Maya?” (Y/N) asked in a snarky tone. Amaya signaled to her to lean down. Amaya whispered something to her. (Y/N) giggled with her daughter. 

“Mr. Barnes, would you like to go out for coffee someday?” (Y/N) asked, Amaya still giggling behind her mom. 

“I would love to.” Bucky said, which caused Amaya to do a little victory dance in the back. As if nobody could see her. (Y/N) turned around and laughed at her daughter’s antics. She pulled something out of her jacket, a piece of paper.

“I have to go, Mr. Barnes. Sorry for my little troublemaker.”She said, handing him the piece of paper with her personal phone number. Bucky was confused.

“What is this for?” Bucky asked, utterly confused about what this meant. 

“For whenever you would like to get that cup of coffee.” She told him, grabbing Amaya’s hand and walking towards his card. 

Bucky felt his cheeks heat up. He might admit that Amaya was his favorite student, even if she played matchmaker. 

He looked down at the card. Oh, he is gonna call.  

[projecttreehouse]

how to write relatable characters

writing relatable characters may seem like an easy task, especially when you’re constructing your protagonist. but what if you want to make your antagonist likeable? what if you want people to hate your protagonist but still root for them? all of this and more requires that your characters be relatable. they need to feel real, so how do you do that? here’s how:

- flaws: this is probably obvious. everyone has flaws, so we should give our characters flaws, too. this applies even if your character is non-human; they cannot escape the personification that we as writers or readers project onto them. we are humans reading, so we expect to see human qualities everywhere we look. if you’re having trouble of identifying your character’s flaws, here are some prompts for ways to think about flaws beyond a list:

what skills do they lack? what do they struggle with?

can their strengths be turned against them as a weakness?

what makes them react emotionally or impulsively?

are they aware of their flaws? if so, do they want to improve them or change them?

- quirks: these are what make your character unique or special, and no, i don’t mean purple eyes or unique physical traits. i mean: what makes your character authentically themselves? what traits define them that few others have? some ways to think about this are:

how do they react when nervous? do they have a tell? similarly, how do they react on behalf of any emotion?

what skills do they have that hardly anyone else has?

what obscure thing are they obsessed with?

do they have a unique outlook on life compared to their peers?

- values: these come from life experiences: where we were raised, our family and friends, our community, religious affiliations, etc. i suggest identifying eight to ten values that define your character and then narrowing that list down to five values that mark their core or essence. think about how these values influence their choices, decisions, and ultimately, the plot of the novel. here are some more prompts to think about values:

how do they react when their values are challenged? are they one to speak up or do they sit back in the shadows?

what, if anything, will change or shatter their values?

are their actual values misaligned with their believed values?

- stakes: what is at risk for your character? what is motivating them? stakes don’t need to be over the top or life or death; they can be as simple as maintaining a relationship or reaching a goal. unless there’s an outside influence (ie. percy’s mother being kidnapped in The Lightning Thief), most stakes—especially those relatable—tie back to values. even those influenced by outside factors can tie back to values: the only reason percy is motivated to get his mother back is because he cares for her and she is the one person who has always advocated for him and cared for him. he values family and riordan uses his family to motivate him and incite the plot. generally, there will be one overarching stake for your character, but throughout your novel, there should be several smaller stakes. these may not service the plot but should elaborate on your character nonetheless. some ways to think about stakes include:

how can i use internal or external factors to create convincing, relatable stakes that tie back to basic values?

why does the overarching stake matter to my character? why do they care?

how can i raise the stakes or introduce new ones that are relevant to my character and illustrate them as a relatable being?

- connection: even if your character is an introvert, they will still be connected to someone, something, or even an idea. we, as humans, look to certain people, pets, objects, and ideas to maintain our sense of reality whether we realize it or not. if your character prides themselves in having no attachments, think about the ideas or themes that mark the cornerstones of their reality. most human beings strive for some form of connection, so here are more prompts for thinking about your characters and connection:

what does connection mean to my character? how do they show how they value their connections or relationships?

how does my character’s behavior change when around different connections?

what connections define my character and their reality? how will these connections influence my character and/or the plot?

how will removing or challenging a connection change, influence, or motivate my character?

a good rule of thumb is to treat a character as a human, not a plot device. there is a time or place in which a character must act as a plot device, but if you’re wanting your readers to be compelled by your narration and the characters within them, you should strive to write your characters as human (aka as relatable). one of the greatest pleasures i find in writing is when other’s identify themselves in my writing.

you’re not just here to tell a story, you’re here to connect with others through the illustration of your characters. let the reader navigate your prose as a detective, to search for and identify the evidence provided by you. that is to say, show us how these things manifest in your character. don’t tell us.

happy writing! hopefully this post gave you some ways to start thinking about how to show the relatability of your character. if you have any questions about implementing these tools or about writing characters, our ask box is always open.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Born leaders + Jamil discovered that Yuu is a girl?

I know I definitely did Malleus but here are the others! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Riddle Rosehearts 

• "W-what?"

• I'd feel like the time that he gets to know is much later than Ace and Deuce

• And I can see him being angry at them because of it

• In truth he's angry with himself he didn't notice before 

• But he'll be a bit awkward 

• a blushy baby <3

• Still just trying to compute your not a boy he was sure you were

• "So...have you been well...?"

• He's a bit fidgety but after you tell him not much has changed and you still want to be his friend

• He lightens up

• He's not going to admit he has feelings for you

• He's going to rationalize this as just being excited of the new challenge

• Yeah, that's it

• So he totally is justified when he is using his unique magic to rectify the students

• Inappropriate comments? Rude gestures? Having genuinely nice pictures to fawn over?

• "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD! And I'm confiscating this..."

Leona Kingscholar 

• "Finally the sheep sheds their wool."

• Don't sleep on Leona!!

• Those lion senses sniffed you out in the garden 

• He keeps acting tough with you around your friends but he knows

• He honestly always treated you differently just not openly

• He let's you sleep in his room during Azuls seige on Ramshackle 

• Now since your no longer hiding it he doesn't either

• And while we know he treats ladies more politely 

• It's on a more comfortable level with you

• So while typically he wouldn't ever invite a women to his bed 

• He has no qualms scooping you up and carrying you away

• It's one of the less violent ways he scares off students from being anywhere near you 

• "Oi prefect, lay with me."

Azul Ashengrotto

• "W-what?! I-is this a thing that's often done on land?!"

• He's shocked 

• reeling back the confidence for someone succinct and docile

• He's not openly jumping at a deal to screw people over especially if they're close to you

• But after that he's probably even worse 

• He finds that he so much more efficient when you're an incentive

• And not to mention the business opportunities 

• Paying for pictures, him getting pictures of you, selling some and then keeping the best ones for himself

• He's shy when you talk directly to him 

• You're just so precious

• I can see him trying to spoil you from afar 

• "I-im just...building rapor with her, yup. It has nothing to do with how she complimented me."

Kalim Al Asim

• "Okay!"

• His friendly party nature doesn't change

• He doesn't stop with his hospitality 

• And if you didn't know any better you'd say he's clingier

• Feeding you more when you start trying to leave

• Or having a really long display before he's like:

• "Oh its so late why don't you stay until tomorrow!"

• Using his magic carpet to abduct you from whatever your doing

• Or getting you swept up in whatever activity he's enraptured himself in

• He knows by now he isn't the only one after you 

• And he knows he's not the smartest

• But he knows that everyone loves fun 

• And in turn you'll like him

• "Ne (Y/n)-san come ride with me to see the Scarabia moon!"

Jamil Viper

• "How'd I miss this?!"

• He's angry at himself

• how'd he nor notice!!!

• He'll mostly dwell on it for a little while 

• Thinking of the possibility of Kalim wanting to pursue you 

• But ultimately he knows they'll either refuse or scare you off

• If he doesn't decide to take you as one of many wives

• He'll mostly not make too big a deal about it

• Unless he starts to see the way Kalim misses on cues or doesn't realize when others a flirting with you

• He may not be able to take the dorm from Kalim 

• But he can surely take you 

• But if push comes to shove he'll partner up 

• With Azul? no way

• Kalim or really anybody he deems to be easy enough to control 

• "(Y/n) can you look me in my eyes and tell me you want to leave."

Vil Shoeinheit 

• "Im sorry (Y/n). I've made the mistake of including you with the potatoes.."

• All he means is if he knew you were a girl sooner he would have forced you to cultivate your feminine wiles sooner

• Watch out Epel your the next victim of his dance mom craze

• He's going to send Rook or whatever unlucky student he influences to retrieve you

• Makeup, face masks, facial routine, wardrobe change

• You name it he's doing it

• And he'll say this all to train you 

• But he's honestly just enjoying you relying on him 

• Whether your into it or not your not you're not going to stop someone who's willing to pamper you

• And he loves to pamper you 

• Loves you having to answer to him

• In a way I can see him making you match his level of beauty so that you have no reason to deny him on the grounds of being imbalanced in your relationship

• "Strut! Did I say walk funny like those potatoes (Y/n)!" 

Idia Shroud 

• "Y-your a-a g-girl?!"

• Flustered and thrown off 

• Finds out while watching on one of the multiple cameras he has trained on you throughout the day

• Mini panic attack before finally getting over it

• Finds himself getting incredibly upset with anybody with immediate contact with you 

• Or even worse is actually able to talk to you

• He'll kick himself as many times as he wants 'but youre just too hot to talk to!!!'

• When he is forced to talk to you he's patting himself on the back after his initial blushy shock

• But when he gets the gumption to have Ortho invite you to play some games 

• He's both thrilled and horrified 

• But should some no-good npc distracts you with something else

• He's enraged and he pulls out all the stops

• "So this NPC feels like he's won (Y/n)? Think again because I'm the boss here!?"

[munsonluhvr]

HOW TO FAKE IT (MINI SERIES) (PART 2)

contents: the weekend trip to the cabin has arrived and Tina has an agenda planned to challenge you and Steve's 'relationship'... word count - 6k

notes: fully believe this is not my best work; I had a ton of homework that had me distracted so those who are reading chapter - please come back for part 3 I promise it's going to be much better lol.

installments: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

taglist: @frostandflamesfanfic

It surprised you how easy it was to convince your parents to let you go to the Cunningham’s family cabin; word had got back to your parents that you and Steve made your debut as a couple at the party several days ago. To say the least, they were thrilled. 

Your parents have always loved Steve, finding him the most trustworthy male in Hawkins to be close friends with their daughter. On multiple occasions they had suggested you and Steve should date but you always shook your head, grimacing at the idea. Now they finally have their wish. 

You stand on the side of your bed, folding your pants into your duffle bag. Your mom sits on the bed beside you, folding your few shirts into your duffle bag as well. “Do we need to have the talk?” Your mom asks, glancing over at you. “It’s nothing to be afraid of, we aren’t those religious people who think sex is bad, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to-.“ 

“Mom,” you say, interrupting her. “I don’t need to have the talk; I took physical education class.” 

Your mom laughs softly, shaking her head. “Just be safe.” 

A few hours later you stand on your porch, duffle bag in hand, waiting to see Steve pull up. The Cunningham’s cabin is two hours away, up north in Indiana. The cabin, according to Steve, is on a lake, in a small resort area. You wonder to yourself how many people will show up and how vicious Tina plans on being. Your head already aches and you haven’t even left yet. 

Moments later, Steve’s car pulls up, the passenger window already rolled down. “There’s my gorgeous girlfriend,” Steve yells, his signature sunglasses covering the top half of his face. 

You wince. “Don’t yell like that,” you call back. “I don’t want the neighbors to hear.” 

Steve puts a hand on his chest. “Ashamed of being seen with me already?” 

You give Steve a fake smile, opening the car door. You get in, shoving your bag in the back seat. “If I was ashamed I wouldn’t be sending my ass up a river to stay at Chrissy Cunningham’s cabin, with Tina there, for you.” 

Steve presses the gas, sending the car lurching forward. “And that is why you are the ultimate best friend.” 

You hum, strapping your seatbelt on across your chest. “What would you do without me?” 

The two hours it takes to get to the cabin flies by quickly due to Steve insisting on developing a detailed game plan for the weekend. 

“We need to make it believable but also leave from for Tina to get jealous.” Steve says, glancing over at you. Beside him, you’re in the passenger seat watching Indiana farms pass by.

“I feel like we’re doing a pretty good job doing that so far; Tina looked like she wanted to kill me when she invited us to the cabin.” 

Steve laughs. “She really does not like you, and she’s never been afraid to show that.” 

“No, she hasn’t and that’s the best part of this arrangement. Dating your best friend who Tina was always threatened by to make her jealous? Brilliant.” You say, glancing at Steve. A strand of his hair dangles on Steve’s forehead, the sun streaming into the car window and dancing across his freckled face, illuminating his soft features. 

Steve changes the subject briefly, noticing how he’s passing several exits on the highway. “Look at the map really quick, I want to make sure we’re going in the right direction.” 

 Eventually, you make it to the Cunningham’s cabin, multiple cars already parked on the gravel driveway. The cabin is set back, hidden from the road by rows of tall, bushy trees. The house is big, a classic cabin style, the largest house on the street. Even from the end of the driveway, you can see the blue water of the lake that outstretches for miles behind the cabin. 

As Steve pulls in, you notice several people lingering at the side of the house: your housemates for the weekend. When Steve parks, retrieving yours and his bags from the back seat, Tina saunters over, greeting only Steve. Casually, as if she and Steve never broke up, Tina throws her arms around Steve. “I’m so glad you made it,” Tina says, playing into her innocent act. While she hugs Steve, she looks over his shoulder, staring you right in the face. You offer a small, innocent smile. It’s only two days you have to be here, you remind yourself. 

After greeting Tina and the others who are spending at the weekend too, Chrissy, Jason, and some of the basketball players with their girlfriends, you make it into the side entrance of the house. 

“Nice place, Cunningham.” Steve says, taking his sunglasses off to look around the house. The inside of the house is grand, large wood furniture stretching towards the ceiling. The entrance leads directly into the kitchen, showcasing large, shiny kitchen appliances that sit on the island that’s settled in the middle of the room. It’s a beautiful home, you hate to admit. 

“Your room is over here,” Chrissy says, Tina close behind her, as they guide you and Steve to a room on the first floor. Down a short hallway, you crowd around the entrance of the bedroom. You peer in, seeing a single bed placed under a window. “You and y/n can stay in here.” Chrissy says to Steve.

You swallow hard, letting your eyes look around the room. There is a dresser in the corner, a small, plush chair adjacent to the bed. Everything starts to connect: you and Steve are expected to share a bed. 

You glance at Steve who’s already looking at you. He offers you a half-hearted smile, realizing the same thing. “This is great, we’ll put out stuff away and meet up with you guys in a second.” 

Chrissy leaves promptly but Tina lingers, analyzing you and Steve as you stand in the bedroom. After a second, she leaves. 

“Don’t worry, I can sleep on the floor, and you can have the bed.” Steve whispers to you, unzipping his bag to unpack his things. “They’ll never know.” 

You stay silent, unzipping your bag too, beginning to unpack your own clothes. For the first time you feel concerned, questioning if you can pull this fake dating scheme off with success. Steve, sensing your hesitation, comes behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. He squeezes lightly. “We got this.”

Minutes later, you’re back in the Cunningham’s enormous kitchen, Steve retrieving a beer from the fridge and handing it to you. The other house guests are scattered across the kitchen and backyard, mingling together. Steve slings an arm over your shoulder, guiding you to a chair that’s adjacent to the kitchen, just over the kitchen’s boarder into the dining room. Swiftly, Steve pulls you back onto his lap again, the end of his chilled beer resting on your leg. You loop an arm around his shoulders, your legs dangling off the side of Steve’s legs. You both sit together, watching the small group mingle around the kitchen. 

In the days between the party and earlier today when you left Hawkins for the cabin, you had some time to think. You had begun to notice how your body physically reacts to Steve’s touch, the way your mind whirls every time a new set of eyes rest on you and Steve. You have this feeling again now, just as Steve plays his part as a loving boyfriend by placing a kiss on your jaw. You smile, glancing at him briefly. 

At first you just attributed to the mindset that you had engrossed yourself with dedication and devotion. You were pretending to be Steve’s girlfriend, convincing Hawkins High that you and he have been together for months, just secretly. Steve was also committed to making your false relationship believable, always attentive with calling you sweet nicknames, gazing at you lovingly when he introduced you to his other friends, or letting his fingertips drag across your skin. Every time it made your mind buzz, enough to make you wonder why you are feeling such ways.

The next phase of denial you enter is just attributing all your feelings to being so close to Steve. You have been best friends for as long as you can remember, always tied to each other’s hip. You had inside jokes, nicknames for each other, a permanent spot at each other’s family dinner table. You were each other’s dates to dances, you never had to ask, you just knew Steve would show up at your front step in a tux. You knew each other so well. When Steve started having girlfriends started to the mix, you never felt displaced. Steve went through girls constantly, as if there was a never-ending revolving door of them; yet each one respected you and Steve’s friendship and made sure to always make space for you. That is, of course, until Tina. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when a shrill voice echoes across the kitchen. “Steve, you’re the tallest one here, can you lend me some help?” Tina’s voice says from around the corner.

Steve taps your legs, signaling for you to move. You stand up, allowing Steve to get up from his seat. He hands you his beer, moving across the kitchen to help Tina. “I’ll be right back,” Steve says to you with a smile. Steve leaves you alone, and as you sit back in the sofa chair, you miss the subtle warmth of Steve underneath you. 

After a few minutes, Steve hasn’t come back and you stand up, feeling the need to socialize and not sit alone in the corner. You weave through Chrissy and Jason who stand on one side of the kitchen island. Some basketball players, and their girlfriends, stand on the other side of the island. “Nice of you to join us, y/n.” Jason says, glancing at you as you walk by. 

You smile meekly. “What are you all up to?” 

“Actually,” Jason says, leaning on the countertop. “We were wondering about how you and Steve started dating.” 

“Oh, you know.” you say, simply. “Best friends that finally acknowledged they liked each other; no story really.” 

The group laughs, eyeing you curiously. The chatter continues around you, leaving you to listen to the back and forth. Down the hallway, however, you hear a set of laughs that takes your attention away. In the reflection of the class doors that lead to the driveway, you see Steve and Tina leaning against the banister of the stairs. Steve reaches out, pawing at Tina’s arm, a simple touch of affection. A pang of jealousy hits you and you’re startled by the feeling. The reality of the game you play with Steve washes over you again as you watch him and Tina flirt, knowing there’s nothing you can do about it because that’s the whole point of you and Steve dating in the first place – getting Tina back.

For the first time, you consider how Steve and Tina’s subtle, but not really, flirting is perceived by the other houseguests. As Steve has attempts to make Tina jealous, allowing himself to flirt with her or let her eye’s linger on him, did everyone really think you were stupid enough to not notice? What you hadn’t signed up for when Steve asked you to fake date him is to look like a fool and you hated to think that Steve’s actions were making you seem like a dumb, oblivious, person and girlfriend. And that thought really pissed you off. 

“Let’s play a game.” Tina says, clasping her hands together. The group eight of sit around the living room, you and Steve sitting next to each other on the large, retro couch. His arm is around your shoulder, and you squirm underneath his touch. Across the living room, Chrissy sits on a loveseat, Tina and the rest of the group scattered around the floor. You couldn’t get your mind to stop thinking about Steve in the hallway with Tina. 

Jason laughs, a beer in his hand, as he seats himself next to Chrissy. “A little childish, Tina, don’t you think?” 

Tina shakes her head. “Not at all, we need a little fun. Let’s keep it simple; truth or dare.”

“Sounds fun,” Tina’s boyfriend says supportively. 

Tina offers a smile to her partner, appreciating his support. “Great, I’ll start – someone ask me.” 

“Okay, truth or dare, Tina?” Chrissy asks, leaning over to look across the room to Tina. 

“Truth,” Tina says. You have the urge to roll your eyes, but you suppress it, watching as the game begins to unfold in front of you. Instead, your clasp your hands together, squeezing your palms together.

“What is the worst mistake you’ve made?” Chrissy says after contemplating for a minute. 

Tina looks across the room at Steve, her eyes lingering on him for just a minute. You know she wants to say it’s breaking up with Steve. To some extent, the plan of fake dating Steve is working, Tina showing her jealousy and curiosity about you and Steve’s relationship; so, you should be happy. But you feel an unsettling feeling, one that makes you feel confused about everything happening around you. 

After a second, Tina takes her eyes off of Steve and looks back at Chrissy. “Definitely getting that haircut sophomore year; it was such a popular hairstyle and as soon as I got it, it went out of style.” Everyone is the room laughs, including Steve, and you smile half-heartedly. “Okay, who’s next? How about you, Steve?” 

“All right, I’ll give it a go.” Steve says, his body leaning into you more. From his movements, you smell his cologne radiating off of him, the familiar smell offering some comfort. 

“Truth or dare?” Tina asks, cocking her head to the side.

You don’t know if you want Steve to pick truth or dare: both could be dangerous options.    

“Dare.” 

Tina smiles, her eyes settling on you. “Kiss y/n; I don’t think any of have seen you guy kiss yet.” 

Your body freezes, every muscle becoming rigid. You’re terrified for a lot of reasons: one reason is because you have never kissed anyone before which is a truth not even Steve knows. The second reason is that you’re about to be forced to kiss Steve, your best friend, and you have no idea how you feel about that. 

“Yeah, Harrington, give your girl a kiss. No need to be conservative here, we’re all friends.” Jason says, gesturing towards where you and Steve sit with his hand that grips his beer bottle. 

“Is that really necessary? We just aren’t big participants in PDA.” Steve says, laughing nervously. 

“Now’s your chance.” Tina says, her eyes landing on you. 

Steve angles his body towards you, you wonder if you feel his hands tremble. You angle your body towards him as well, your knees touching. Steve looks at you, his eyes going to your lips. You’re really about to kiss Steve – in front of everyone. 

Steve scoots closer to you, his hand reaching out, his hand cupping your face. His fingertips brush your face, your skin buzzing at the sensation. Your muscles go from rigid to limp, your head becoming lightheaded. Before Steve leans in, he gazes at you briefly, letting his thumb brush your cheekbone. Then, he leans in, and you follow his lead, leaning in to let your lips meet his. 

You thought it’d be a short kiss, just a small peck, but it’s anything but. Steve’s mouth moves rhythmically in yours, the feeling of his plush lips against yours causing a small tornado to brew in your stomach. The smell of Steve’s cologne that was comforting a few seconds ago was now overwhelming to you, numbing the surrounding environment – the people that watch you. Steve’s lips are sweet, the beer tinting the flavor of his mouth. 

It feels like you have been kissing Steve for hours, though it most likely was only a few seconds. You pull away, breaking you and Steve’s point of contact. He leans in further, following your mouth as you pull away, but Steve realizes what he’s doing and backs away.

 Steve clears his throat, leaning back on the couch. “See, we kiss,” Steve says. Similar to you, Steve’s mind draws blank after blank, his mind whirling with a set of emotions that confuse him. He finds himself enjoying sharing a kiss with you, noticing how his mouth followed you as you pulled away. He hopes you didn’t notice that. 

You look at the small group of faces that watched you, small smiles on their mouths. Tina, however, has her arms crossed, her lips puckered with discontent. 

“I felt like we should have given you privacy, that was intense.” Jason says, laughing. “What else do you guys do in private?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “All right, All right, let’s move on.”

“Y/n, your turn.” Tina says, adjusting in her seat. “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth,” you say, not wanting to see what type of dare Tina would have in store for you. Turns out, though, that her truths are far much worse then any dare. 

“Did you and Steve get together right after he and I broke up? I mean you were his best friend and around us all the time. Were you just hoping we’d break up so you can have him all to yourself?” Tina asks. The room goes silent. 

You sigh, knowing this was waiting for you all along. “Of course not, Tina. We got together after you and Steve had broken up and it was clear you were getting back together.” 

Tina hums, crossing her arms across her chest. “For some reason, I just don’t believe that. It’s such a coincidence that two best friends got together so close after a breakup – I mean surely he was still thinking about me when he together with you.” Tina says, glancing at Steve. “Are you sure you’re not a rebound?” 

“Tina-“ Steve says, but you hold up your hand, ready to meet Tina.

“I just don’t get why you care so much, Tina? Aren’t you the one that broke up with Steve to immediately date someone else? Are you sure that’s just a coincidence or were you plotting that while you were still dating Steve?” You say, knowing you questioning Tina, in front of her closest friends, was getting dangerously close to her most vicious point. 

Tina laughs, shaking her head. “Oh, y/n. You sit there with Steve acting so innocent like the perfect little girlfriend, but little do you know everything Steve does for you know, I taught him. He probably still calls out my name during sex.” 

You jaw clenches, the sounds of people snickering fill the silence in the room. Steve is still, completely motionless beside you, listening to you handle your own against Tina. He feels sick, his stomach twisted is regret. Steve thinks about how he never should have gotten you involved in this.  “I think you give yourself too much credit, Tina, Steve has most certainly moved on.” 

“All right you two, that was definitely more than one question, Tina.” Jason says, interrupting you and Tina. You let your back relax against the couch, feeling the heat in the room creep inside of you. 

Steve puts his arm around your shoulders, acknowledging the tough situation Tina had just put you through. He squeezes your shoulder. Watching Tina attempt to embarrass you, in front of everyone, made Steve question what he was doing attempting to get Tina back in his life. He knew Tina’s personality is bland, her only joy in life coming from tearing other people down - for what? Suddenly, loses his motivation to get Tina back – he just wants to take you and he home. 

“Let’s go,” Steve whispers to you, beginning to stand up off the couch. He reaches out, grabbing your hand in his. “We’re going to hit the hay early tonight; we’ll see you in the morning.” Steve says to the rest of the group. Everyone mumbles goodnight, their eyes watching you and Steve move out of the room. They pick back up where they started, Chrissy up next to pick truth or dare. 

“Steve don’t sleep on the floor. Just get in the bed.” You say, listening to Steve whimper as he lays himself on the hardwood floor. You hear him pause. “Really? It’s so uncomfortable down here.” He says, leaning up to look at you on the bed. 

You nod. “Just don’t touch me, we aren’t that close.”

Steve laughs, placing his pillow on the bed next to yours. You move yourself back, letting Steve maneuver himself into the bed. The mattress dips under his weight, his warm body laying close to yours. For a few minutes you lay in silence, watching the darkness stream through the shades of the window. Shadows dance across the ceiling, your eyes watching as you listen to the crickets that chirp in the dark of the night outside. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, breaking the dark silence. His arm brushes against yours. “Tina was vicious today and I didn’t stop it.” You shake your head, looking at Steve from the corner of your eye. “Don’t apologize, I knew she some sort of plan against me.” 

“Still,” Steve says, meeting your eye contact. Steve’s glance turns into a gaze, holding your eye contact. In your stomach, you feel a flutter. If someone told you Steve would be the one to check things off your boxes – giving you your first kiss or sharing a bed with a boy; you’re sure you would have told them they were out of their mind. You break your eye contact, looking back at the ceiling. 

Beside you, Steve lets his long fingers slither against the back of your hand, picking yours up to rest against his. Steve outstretches your hand, comparing the size of it to his large hand that dwarfs yours. “You’re so small and delicate.” 

You laugh, looking over at yours and his hands. “You’re just noticing our size difference now?”

Steve interlaces his fingers with yours, enveloping yours hand with his. He squeezes your hand gently. “Fake dating you has allowed me to realize things about you I ignored when we were just best friends.” 

“Don’t get soft on me, Steve.” You say, although the flutter in your stomach grows more intense. 

Only one day left. 

The day at the Cunningham’s cabin starts bright and early; Jason bangs on you and Steve’s bedroom door, jolting you out of Steve arms, which is wrapped around you, holding you against his body. You and Steve glance at each other, mutually agreeing not to speculate how you both ended sleeping in such a position. 

“Steve and y/n, up and at em’ lovebirds! Meet us by the water in five.” Jason yells, the sound of his voice pounding in your head. It’s too early to yell. 

Quickly, you and Steve throw on lake appropriate outfits, turning each other’s back to one another, providing as much privacy as you can, considering the circumstance. 

You’re halfway out the back door of the house when Steve grasps your forearm. “Hand,” Steve holds his hand out to you. “Gotta make it believable, babe,” Steve says, overemphasizing the nickname. You smile, taking his hand, though you have a funny feeling inside of you – something you can’t put your finger on.

“There they are!” Chrissy says, extending her arms over her head. Chrissy’s feet were already in the water, Jason beside her. Tina glances at you, offering a fake smile, though she trains her eyesight is aimed at you and Steve’s hands that are intertwined. 

“Here we are,” Steve says almost unenthusiastically. You can tell his socialization level is beginning to bottom out. 

“Drinks are over there,” Jason says, pointing towards a cooler several feet away. “We’re thinking of playing volleyball and swimming. I’ll get the floats out of the basement later.” 

Steve looks over at you. “Volleyball or swimming?” 

You shake your head. “I think I’ll just sit for now.” 

Steve frowns, but nods, letting go of your hand. “Okay, I’ll sit with you-“ As Steve speaks, Jason calls his name. “Steve, come play a round of volleyball with us.” You look towards Jason, seeing Tina, Tina’s boyfriend, and Jason stand on the volleyball court. “We need a fourth.”

Steve looks over at you. You smile, gesturing towards where Jason. “Go, I’ll be fine.” Steve nods, his eyes lingering on yours, before he jogs away towards the volleyball court. 

You continue towards the beach chairs, noticing Chrissy is already sitting in one. “May I join you?” you ask, sitting down in the chair beside her. 

“Not a fan of volleyball?” Chrissy asks, looking over at you. 

“Not a fan of anything physical,” you say, letting your legs stretch out in front of you. The lake has rough sand, but you let your bare feet dig into it. 

Chrissy laughs. “I feel the same way, I always get lightheaded. My exercise is cheer and that’s about it.” 

You smile, glancing at Chrissy. You never truly interacted with Chrissy, her crowd is much different than yours, the two groups never interacting. You had heard good things about her, always kind and sweet to everyone. You always wondered if she was as fake as Tina, considering they were close friends, but you find the rumors are true – she’s incredibly kind. 

You’re about to respond to Chrissy but cheers from the opposite direction pull your attention away and towards the sound. You watch as Steve and Tina, who are on the same side of the volleyball net, high-five, Tina squealing with excitement. You lean back against the webbed beach chair with a soft huff. 

“That’s got to be tough,” Chrissy says. “Tina is trying too hard to be friendly with Steve post breakup. I told her to leave you two alone, but she won’t listen.”

You toss an uneasy smile at Chrissy, opting to look directly in front of you at the lake. “Oh, it’s okay. I’m not worried.” 

Chrissy cocks her head to the side, not believing a word you say. “Your face says otherwise. I’m sure she’ll get bored, I mean she has to, Steve is so into you.” 

You frown, whipping your head to Chrissy. “W-What?” 

Chrissy turns away from you, positing herself to look straight ahead, her arms dangling off the arms of the chair. She, too, outstretches her legs in front of herself, her legs seemingly going on for miles. “The way he looks at you, it’s so obvious.” 

You swallow, digesting what Chrissy is telling you. Steve? The way he looks at you? Chrissy must be wrong, any look that Steve gives you is purely because you’ve been friends for what feels like decades, and you might as well be the same person – Siamese twins even. 

You’re silent for a long time, the noise of other neighbors coming out from their house to be lake go-ers for the day filling the silence.  Your mind is in a whirl as you’re deep in thought, thinking about Chrissy’s comment, and you jolt when Chrissy places her hand on your forearm. “Come on, let’s go into the water.” 

The lake behind Chrissy’s house is huge, from where you stand you can see the houses that peek out from the trees around the lake. The lake must be miles and miles long, boats saunter across the water, those who occupy them dancing to the radio together. Though the lake is only accessible to those who own a house, the lake is big enough, and deep enough, to need a lifeguard. A very cute lifeguard in fact. 

You and Chrissy stand knee deep in the lukewarm lake water, watching small fish swim between your legs. You chat with Chrissy, finding out that she’s much more easy going then you thought she’d be. The day has passed by quickly, the morning turning into the afternoon with little transition. After a little swimming, you and Chrissy begin to walk down the length of the Cunningham’s property, the edge of her home right where the lifeguard stand is.

A whistle blows, the sound cracking, signaling the whistle should be retired soon, interrupting you and Chrissy’s conversation. “Ladies, looking that good is certainly a swimming hazard. Back on the shore, please.” You and Chrissy look at each other, giggling at the lifeguards comment. 

The lifeguard is beautiful; his torso is bare showcasing his toned upper half and strong muscles. He has dark hair, his short locks framing his face perfectly. Freckles are dashed across his face, a boyish smile on his mouth. He moves, with ease, down from his stand, making his way over to where you and Chrissy stand, only a few inches from the shore. 

“I’m Blake,” Blake, the lifeguard says. “And you two are?”

“I’m Chrissy,” Chrissy says, clasping her hands in front of her. “And this is y/n.” 

Blake looks at you, his eyes lingering. “Y/n, you’re awfully beautiful.” 

You smile, your face flushing at the compliment. “Thank you, Blake.” 

“Chrissy!” Jason yells from far away, their volleyball game concluding a bit ago. “I need your help getting the floats from the basement!” Chrissy glances between you and Blake, then jogs off towards the shore, leaving you and Blake alone. You should have realized how not mentioning to Blake that you had a boyfriend, Steve, might look to Chrissy but in the moment you didn’t care. Why couldn’t you have a little fun on this god forsaken trip? 

“Just here for the weekend?” Blake asks, bringing you back into the conversation. 

You nod, softly crossing your arms in front of your scantily clad chest. “Yeah, with some friends.” 

Blake nods, his eyes grazing down your body. “That’s too bad, the hot ones always have to leave.” 

Later, you’ll realize that Blake is not your type, and how his gives player vibes, but in the moment, you just want to have fun leaving the ideas that Steve looks at you a certain way or the weird flutter you felt last night as you laid with behind you. 

You just want a distraction from it all.

Where you stand with Blake, you have no idea that Steve is watching. Steve is perplexed on what to do as he’s blinded with raging emotions. He’s pissed; the tall, gorgeous lifeguard standing beside you, his eyes taking every inch of your bare skin. For a moment, Steve doesn’t even consider what everyone else who’s staying at Chrissy’s cabin thinks as they glance with curiosity at this stranger interacting with you, Steve’s girlfriend. Steve wants to do nothing more than punch the lights out of this guy, bruising his eyes that visually violate you. Steve watches for a few minutes, you laugh, you reach out touching this lifeguard’s arm. Steve can’t take it any longer when you turn around and the lifeguard looks right at your ass, shamelessly. 

Steve stalks over to you and Blake, his feet moving him quick. “Y/n!” Steve calls, making it over to you and the male in seconds. “There you are babe; I’ve been calling you.” Nonchalantly, Steve places his arm over your shoulder, interrupting you and Blake’s conversation. Steve offers Blake an innocent yet threatening smile as he nudges you along. You squeak as Steve begins to rush you away. You don’t even get to say bye to Blake. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Steve whispers to you when you’re far away from Blake, guiding you away from the water. “Flirting with that asshole in front of everyone, you’re supposed to be my girlfriend, remember?” 

You’re pissed too, Steve ruining your only chance to experience joy on this trip. “Sorry, I’m just trying to have a little fun. You can flirt with Tina all day long, in front of everyone, but I can’t flirt with some random lifeguard?” 

Steve snorts, his grip tightening around your shoulder. “I’m not flirting with Tina; I was just playing volleyball with her. You heard Jason, they needed a fourth player!”

You hum, attempting to shrug your Steve’s arm off your shoulder. “This sucks Steve, this has gone far beyond just getting Tina back. She has it out for me, last night was proof, and I’m just looking like a stupid, oblivious girlfriend as you sneak around with Tina, and I’m just supposed to not notice?” 

Steve hustles you past the group of teens that surround the firepit in the middle of the backyard, bringing the beach chairs from the lake and onto the grass. They all stare, your argument moving from whispers to loud enough that they can catch glimpses of your argument. 

“Keep your voice down,” Steve says. Steve moves you onto the porch, opening the sliding glass and pushing you into the kitchen. “You’re going to blow our cover.”

Outside, the day begins to dim, the sky turning a dark blue color. The little bit of light outside illuminates the room enough for you and Steve to maneuver around the kitchen island. “You already did that Steve! By flirting with Tina so carelessly. You want to flirt with Tina? Fine. But you don’t have to do it in front of everyone and make me look stupid.” You march into yours and Steve’s designated bedroom, passing him on one side of the island in the process. Steve follows you. 

“Y/n,” Steve says with a sigh. “Look, I’m sorry. Okay?” 

You’re covered in lake water, the dry feeling that clings to your body makes you know that you should shower before getting into bed, but there’s no place you’d rather be then under the sheets. You lift the bedsheets up, climb into the bed. “I don’t care, Steve, Whatever, it’s fine.” 

Steve stands in the doorway, watching you turn into a lump under the sheets. Although you’re arguing, he finds himself smiling. “I mean it, I’m sorry.” 

“I mean it, I don’t care. Just go back out to the party and your beloved Tina.” 

Steve is amused but mostly frustrated - for two reasons. For one, wasn’t this the whole point? Making Tina jealous so she’d come back to him? Maybe you had a point about making you look stupid, but he thought you and he were on the same page, understanding the same game plan of Tina becoming his girlfriend again so you two didn’t have to fake dating. Second, Steve hated it when you and he fight. You never did – the last time was when you were 14 and Steve had seen a movie with his friend when he said he’d see it with you first (you were pissed, to say the least) - and he hated that the first fight in a long time was over Tina. 

“Fine,” Steve says, turning on his heel. “Be that way.” And Steve disappears around the corner. You’re sure Steve is going to come back, apologize profusely, but you give up that hope when you hear the sliding door close shut behind him. 

As he sits on the beach chair around the campfire, next to Tina, Steve’s mind begins to drift away, thinking about his reaction to seeing you and the lifeguard. Why had he gotten so mad? I mean, wanting to physically harm a guy that was flirting with you was a bit much, surely. He acknowledges to himself how he didn’t like seeing you flirt with someone, another male drinking your body in, and he wonders what that confession could mean. Does he have a thing for you, and it took being in a fake relationship, at Chrissy Cunningham’s cabin, seeing you flirting with a lifeguard, for Steve to realize that? All Steve could think about, while his friends laugh and roast marshmallows together, is that he wanted to be under the sheets with you, your small body curved against his – and that scares the shit out of him. 

It's going to be a long ride back to Hawkins. 

[bird-inacage]

Love in the Air: Sky’s Desire to be Loved

Sky is already breaking my heart. What I really picked up on in this episode is despite the pain, disappointment and trauma Sky carries with him, he still ultimately just wants to be loved.

At the race, when he first realises Prapai is staring at him, he looks slightly taken aback in a pleasantly surprised sort of way. Like ‘oh, he noticed me’. It’s evident that Sky finds Prapai very attractive, and so when Prapai takes him aside, you can tell that Sky is shy, nervous even. That’s the sort of reaction you only have in front of someone you potentially like. However, as soon as Prapai comes out with his proposition, Sky’s impression of him immediately does a 180. You can tell how hurt he is by this revelation. It’s not simply ‘oh this guy is an asshole too’, but more so, ‘why is this happening to me again?’

The fact that Sky agrees to their one night stand is more than just about repaying a favour or rising to the challenge. To me this is a sign of self-destructive behaviour. I think he resorts to his usual defence mechanism which is playing nonchalant. Maybe if he pretends to be unaffected and somehow detached from this emotionally, he won’t be hurt when it dawns on him all over again that this was purely a physical transaction. But he goes into this knowing that he’s hurt, hurting and will be hurt further by it.

I think Sky feels better when he has control and is taking the initiative. Because then something at least is on his terms, and he can convince himself he’s okay that it is just sex.

So Sky chooses to give in purely to lust, and to allow that to sweep him away. He is able to enjoy their night together simply on a physical level. However, immediately afterward you can tell Sky is unhappy, empty and regretful. He feels like nothing but an object of desire. His attempt to detach himself emotionally wasn’t successful. So he reaches for Prapai again for that momentary high. The brief comfort that comes from connecting with someone during sex is only temporary.

People who have experienced abusive or toxic relationships, desperately want the other person to love them equally, and are therefore willing to compromise their own discomfort, their own boundaries and concede to more and more to please that person.

I do also think that some people who are desperately seeking love, sometimes mistake any form of intimacy as a substitute. They’ll take what is offered to them, even if it makes them feel bad about themselves. Which is why I believe Sky continued to engage with Prapai that night, because he probably tried to convince himself that it was enough, which clearly backfired.

Then we see Sky leave the hotel, looking so dejected, small and alone. What kills me about these scenes is the quiet resignation in Sky’s acceptance of the situation. He just looks like he’s thinking ‘how could you be so stupid?’ And when he says “you’re also an asshole” - he sounds genuinely disappointed. Like he was really hoping Prapai would be different and prove him wrong.

Sky then returns home where he clearly wants to cry but holds it in. I think Sky believes that if he truly broke down in that moment, then he would have truly admitted defeat. That it would be affirmation that he has allowed this to get to him and hurt him, when he was so determined not to let that happen again.

“Shitty things always happen to me”. When bad things happen repeatedly to someone, it’s easy to internalise that as if it is somehow your fault because the common denominator is you.

Later in the episode, there are multiple scenes where Sky reiterates that he doesn’t think Prapai would ever truly be interested in him. That Prapai’s interest in pursuing him is just for sex.

When he answers Prapai’s call for the first time, he doesn’t yet know who it is, and yet Prapai crosses his mind. This shows that Prapai did leave an impression on him. Sky has not completely erased him from his mind.

The other important detail to note here is that even though Sky deems Prapai an ‘asshole’, he doesn’t at any point say he’s not attracted to him. He’s always commenting on how he feels Prapai wouldn’t be attracted to him. This demonstrates that Sky does genuinely believe (despite all his negative impressions) that Prapai is out of his league and would never take real notice of him. He would not be having these thoughts if he didn’t like Prapai on some level. And he hates himself for that, because he feels he should know better.

It’s because he’s attracted to Prapai that he can’t help feeling taken by Prapai’s advances. He even peers out of the window to see if Prapai is still there. He repeatedly tells himself to shake out of it, knowing he shouldn’t entertain these delusions.

In the last scene where Sky receives the sunflowers, he’s taken aback for a moment when Prapai tells him why he sent them. “Cause sunflowers face the sky, I can’t be the sun for you but whenever you see sunflowers, remember that this wind’s watching over the sky”.

Sky is aware that Prapai is sweet talking. But he can’t help himself from being genuinely touched for a moment, like his brain is going ‘see, someone is doing this for you, that must mean something right?’.

At this stage Prapai doesn’t fully mean it. Not really. The man has no idea what his own feelings for Sky are. But this was still surprisingly heartfelt and sweet. A passing comment which meant a whole lot to Sky in that moment because it was so nice to just hear someone try and sweet talk him for once - regardless of how genuine it was.

Sky is clearly conflicted over his feelings around Prapai. He knows he should be staying well away, but at the same time he can’t help but want to be the object of someone’s attentions. Little does he know how deeply Prapai will come to love him.

[lytters]

love, in silence (but silence speaks volumes) || b. katsuki

falling in love with bakugo katsuki was an easy decision. deciding how to love him is an even easier one.

to katsuki, being a hero comes first and foremost. becoming the best, reaching number one, it was his ultimate goal. love, a relationship, would only distract, delay him from reaching that. so you love him enough for him to feel it, enough for you to be happy, but never enough for him to realize.

it’s easy to love like this: a cold bottle of water waiting on the counter before his morning runs, his favorite, very expensive, spices constantly refilled, and his favorite seat in the common room always reserved for him.

who cares if he’ll never look at you that way? it’s worth all the pining and dreaming you do when he looks a little more content, a little more at home with every little gesture you can give. his happiness at the cost of yours is nothing but a small price to pay.

you resolve to love him in silence, to support him as he hurdles towards a future that only has you in the background. you’re the supporting character to his story, and you’re content with that.

it’s another one of those nights where you love him a little louder, a little brighter than usual. staying back after dinner to help him clean up, locking up the spice cabinet (denki and mina had a horrible habit of stealing spices to do stupid challenges), and following him up to the roof with a little bag of cookies you had baked for him earlier.

the sky is surprisingly clear tonight, the stars twinkling excitedly at you as you settle down next to katsuki, dropping the cookies on his stomach. he lets out a soft grunt, and you hear the rustling of plastic.

“what’s this?” he asks, dangling the bag over your face. “trynna poison me again?”

“that was one time!” you protest indignantly, sitting upright to glare at him. “and for the last time, i didn’t know that tenya put the liniment oil in the vanilla bottle. who does that?”

“four-eyes, evidently.” he sits up with you, moonlight casting his face in an ethereal glow. his hair is almost white, red eyes somehow sharper in the night. “when did you find the time to make this?”

you only shrug and turn away from him, willing the flush that threatens to creep past your neck to fade away. “sometime this afternoon.”

“during your nap time?” katsuki says incredulously.

“wasn’t sleepy,” you shrug again. heat creeps further up your neck, and the night doesn’t feel as cool anymore.

it’s unbearably quiet, the soft sigh of leaves swaying the only break in the silence. then the crinkling of plastic, the loud crunch of chewing. you glue your gaze to the sky all the while, fingers crossed that he likes the cookies.

“i appreciate you.” katsuki says. you look over at him, taken aback at the sudden gratitude. his eyes are bright under the moonlight, and he’s more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him be. the night brings about a certain calmness that seems to ease away the harsh lines on his face, gentling his features that leaves you a different kind of breathless.

“i-” you laugh fondly. “i appreciate you too?”

at the question in your voice, he scowls a little, and you can’t help reaching a hand out to smooth out the frown lines. he leans into your touch, and you flush once more, pulling away. but katsuki latches onto your hand with his calloused one, pressing his cheek into your palm.

“i mean it,” his voice is low, eyes trained on you. “i appreciate you. don’t think i don’t notice what you do for me.”

your heart skips a beat.

“what do you mean?” you ask lightly. his grip tightens and he shifts closer to you.

“don’t play dumb right now,” katsuki scoffs. swallowing hard, you watch as he edges closer and closer to you. “you’re always taking care of me, even though i don’t need-” he shakes his head as you open your mouth to interrupt- “no, listen to what i have to say first.”

“you wake up early on weekends to jog and eat breakfast with me, even though you hate cardio, and you’re not a morning person. whenever its your turn to cook dinner, you always make a separate portion for me, because you know i like the additional spices. and i know you’re the one who refills them, you’re not as slick as you think you are.” he shoots you a fond look. you’re pretty sure your palms are sweaty by now, not that katsuki seems to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. “you do a lot for me, and i see it.”

“katsuki…” you stare at him, eyes wide. “it’s nothing, i just-”

“don’t say it’s nothing.” he cuts you off. “don’t say it’s nothing, because if it’s truly nothing, then i wouldn’t have fallen for you.”

“you- what?” your heart races, and especially in the coolness of the night, you can feel the heat katsuki radiates. “do you- i- don’t joke about that.”

“i’m not.” he looks at you, really looks at you, and you can see the earnestness in his carmine eyes, feel it in the way he holds you so tenderly. “i’m in love with you, and i’m know you’re in love with me too.”

“don’t-” you begin breathlessly, but katsuki shakes his head.

“i don't want you think i'm saying this because i know you love me or that you do things for me. yes, part of it is because of the things you do for me, but i love you because you're you.” katsuki leans into your space, breaths mingling. you can smell the cookies he just ate, cinnamon and burnt caramel filling your senses. he’s deliciously warm pressed against you like this. “i see you, how you give and give without expecting anything in return. how you stand your ground for your friends. how you care for others without making them feel weak.”

the unspoken ‘me’ presses against your hand, still clutched to his cheek.

“i love you,” he says so quietly, so tenderly it makes your eyes burn. “and i want you. i want to be yours. if you’ll let me.”

a heartbeat. two.

“yes,” you gasp around the lump in your throat. “of course, yes, yes, yes.”

katsuki smiles and it’s like the sun rising – unbearably beautiful, refreshing in the way only beginnings can be, utterly devastating.

“i’m going to kiss you.” he promises, pausing only a hair’s breadth away. giving you a chance to pull away, you realize. silly boy, why would you? it’s a moment you’ve been dreaming about for ages, yearning for with an aching heart, resigned to it ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. now all those moments spent wishing and dreaming have come true, culminated into a chance you’re most definitely not going to give up.

you close the distance and it’s nothing like you could have ever imagined. he’s sweet, tilting his head slightly to deepen the kiss and- oh.

he kisses you like you’re the first sip of water in the desert, cautiously and greedily all at once. your heart burns, sings, and you drink him in greedily, the lump in your throat giving way to two years of quiet love now demanding to be seen, poured out in sweet, warm kisses.

hearts are like homes, you muse, staring at katsuki fondly. they aren’t meant to be lived in alone, watching others through windows. homes are meant to be shared, where love and laughter coexist with hurt and sadness. and katsuki is here, knocking on your heart. you open the door and welcome him in – it’s a house made for him after all.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi Clan! I haven't been around in a while the autism took me for a few months sorry. Would you do some headcanons for Miles and/or Gwen meeting a Mutant!Spider-Person reader? Like an X-Men type mutant. They never got bit but were instead born with the spider powers (including the webs) and 4 arms. Because they're a mutant they aren't really trusted as a hero by the people of their city (or the cops) but they still try their best because "If I gave up because a few people didn't like me, I wouldn't be very good at my job"

-Forgetful Anon

Gwen Stacy

While visiting Spider Society HQ for the first time, she noticed you sitting at a nearby table, having an arm-wrestling match against Ben Riley.

He insisted you used all four of your arms to "challenge" him....and yet he sulks when he ultimately loses, and you just laugh in victory before patting him on the back.

Once he leaves, you spot this new Spiderwoman and wave her over to your table, insisting on having a match.

It's just your way of breaking the ice for new Spiderpeople. You loved getting to know them and testing their strength. Winning or losing doesn't matter to you.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on ya." You tease, only to be surprised as Gwen wins with little effort, her smug grin present.

"You went a little "too" easy on me, I think."

"Haha...jeez, I guess so."

And so you both talk for a little while about different things: what she thought of Spider Society, how long she's been Spiderwoman, etc.

When she turns the questions on you, however, you're....a bit hesitant to share.

Unlike most of the Spiderpeople here, you didn't get your powers in the "traditional" sense. No spider has ever bitten you.

Seeing Gwen's curiosity, though, you eventually tell her you're actually a mutant, a human born with the X-gene that made you into a spider hybrid.

You mentioned a league of mutant superheroes in your dimension.....but you ride solo, as most Spiderpeople do, not wanting to be tied down to any specific group (ironic as you're part of Spider Society, but that's besides the point).

She imagines the people there feel pretty safe, though you shake your head. "Nah, some see us as the bigger threat just because we look like this and have all these crazy powers. I've fought aliens and wizards, but...there's some battles that you just can't punch or shoot webs at, y'know?"

Her expression changes to a slightly solemn one, nodding her head in sympathy. "You're fighting for basic respect."

"We just want fair treatment...and it's like we're asking them for the world. All I wanna do is protect my city, but it's hard when half the population hates us and thinks we brought the trouble to them."

"I can't imagine.." She frowns. "If I might ask..what keeps you going? Why bother if nobody even thanks you or sees you as a hero? What's the point?"

"......."

"...sorry, was that too deep-?"

"No, no..you're good, kid." You chuckle, feeling more relaxed. "All my life I've dealt with that stuff, and it still sometimes hurts, but if I gave up just because some people didn't like me, well...I'd be terrible at my job as a Spiderperson."

Gwen's impressed by your words, not expecting to have such a deep conversation about your "origin story" at the first meeting.

But she's glad she could talk to you, needing this distraction from the incident with her dad while she was questioning her own self-worth as Spiderwoman.

You reassure her she can come to you for advice anytime.

Miles Morales (E-1610)

You first met Miles after getting thrown into his dimension thanks to the collider explosion, taking comfort in knowing you're not the most "unusual" spiderperson around.

There's a pig and an anime girl with a psychic link to her spider, for crying out loud.

Anyways, you had faith that he could help you get back to your dimension, never doubting him unlike the other spiderpeople who firmly believed he wasn't ready for this task.

You followed him after he left May's basement to talk one-on-one, sympathizing with his struggles.

"Trust me, kid..I've been in your shoes once. I never felt like a Spiderman in my life..even now."

He stares at you in disbelief. "Really? You? But...you got all your powers at birth! I mean yeah, you weren't bitten, but....but you're already better at this than I am! I bet people really admire you-"

"I've had my fair share of doubters, Miles. All of us have, but I got it...particularly bad in my world. And not just because I'm a "masked vigilante putting myself about the law"."

He's still a bit lost, so you tell him about the unfair treatment of mutantkind in your dimension, speaking of how some people hated you so much...they sought to "cure" your X-genes.

It stings to know that they will shun you instead of seeing you as a hero, though you didn't wanna ramble on for too long and depress Miles further, seeing his frown growing.

"You say all of this, and yet...you think I can help you get back there. Why would you ever wanna go back to a world that hates you just for being yourself? For just trying to do the right thing even if everyone's telling you no?"

"Well..besides dying if I stay in this dimension--" You begin, painfully glitching for a moment as if to prove that point. "--ouch...look, I just can't abandon the people who need me. The ones who do see me as a hero. It's my duty, and...if I gave up trying to be Spiderman just because I get a few stares or snide comments...well then I'm not really Spiderman, am I?"

Miles doesn't know what to say...but he does feel incredibly inspired by your words.

He only wishes the others trusted him like you did.

Patting his shoulder, you remove your mask and smile at him. "Don't their words bring you down, kid. You got potential...they'll realize it soon enough."

[perpetuallydaydreaming]

ghost of a smile.

sirius said, “you fall in love with anything with a pulse.” so naturally james proves him wrong.

tags: james potter x reader,, they/them pronouns,, you’re a ghost,, sirius is vv protective of james,, wolfstar (it wasn’t supposed to be but then when i kept writing it just felt right),, crack,, age gap(???),, magical inter-racial relationships(???)

“prongs, it’s a fuckin’ ghost.”

“i love them.”

“it’s a ghost!” sirius punctuated the sentence by grabbing james by the shoulders and literally shaking him to sanity. but proved to be futile as the messy haired man clicks his tongue and shrugs off sirius’ hand as if it offended him.

“i know that, and my feelings won’t change. they make me feel alive.”

sirius groans, oh the irony, eyes wild in disbelief and turning to the rest, hopefully as exasperated and bewildered as he is. the look on his face as if saying, can you believe this guy?!

peter still looks disturbed and mooney looks like he’s trying to understand what james’ thought process was.

but that’s the thing. there is no thought. that’s why they’re in this situation in the first place. sirius likes to think there is no sane person to fancy an incorporeal being. much less, ugh, love them.

but leave it to james to prove him wrong. sirius almost laughs at the absurdity of it all.

“i know you like to go above and beyond expectations. but when i said you can fall in love with anything with a pulse, i didn’t mean for it to be a challenge.”

you cleared your throat, “i’m guessing this isn’t the best time.” you interjected sheepishly. hovering just a little above the floor. sirius thinks you almost look like a normal student. if normal students were translucent and dead.

when nobody said anything, but gave sheepish (remus and peter), worried (james) and judging (sirius) looks.

“i should just go and let you gentlemen talk things through. i’ll see you later james.”

“no don’t go,” he pouted. actually pouted! the love sick fool. “i’ll come with you.”

you shook your head, translucent hair swaying with the movement. “no it’s alright, you can stay and talk with your friends.” you smiled.

you gave him an encouraging nudge, or so to speak, since he can’t really feel you. because, again—dead.

james just nodded, and like a puppy, stayed.

once you were gone, remus was the first to speak,

“james, i think what sirius is trying to say here is how did this even happen?” remus asks softly, scratching his cheek, like he does when the puzzle he’s solving isn’t as easy as he thought it would be.

james sighs, he actually sighs like a besotted maiden, “i was— just a lost soul,” sirius blanched. “—wandering on this earth and then i met them, my beautiful love.”

“that isn’t the only lost soul that day, i bet.” sirius scoffs.

completely ignoring sirius now, james continues, “and then it just feels like everything clicked into place. they were always there when i needed someone to talk to. they were always so warm and kind. they always listened to me, they don’t make fun of my feelings. they don’t disregard them. they’re so beautiful and so smart. they’re crazy smart, knows a lot of things about history and all. you two would get along well, mooney.”

“they should know about history considering they died in it.” sirius hiss out but ultimately ignored.

“but james…” remus starts, and sirius almost sighs in relief at least somebody was also using their brain.

but then james interrupts, “i know they’re a ghost, and there’s not much else i can do about that. but remus, i can feel them. when we talk, i know they understand me and i don’t think i’ve ever felt this way about someone before.”

sirius rolls his eyes, having heard a similar speech when james said he fell in love with the store clerk in a muggle record shop in london.

sirius wanted so badly to scream out louder, in hopes to wake his friend from his delusion.

james clearly isn’t sound of mind right now. and it’s his duty as his best mate to help him. with the help of remus, they can do it. so he took the first step.

“james—“

“i think that’s beautiful james.” remus cut in.

sirius have never felt so betrayed in his life. and by remus of all people. and his face made sure to show this betrayal. lips curling into a horrified gape, eyes in a frenzy of rage.

remus clicks his tongue at him and covers his face with his large warm hand.

“thank you remus.” his crazy friend gave his crazier friend a lopsided smile.

hells, he was even blushing.

“are you fucking serious right now remus? they’re dead!” he shouted, muffled by remus’ hand.

remus ignored him turning to a now frowning james, “why don’t you go ahead and catch up with them while i talk to sirius quickly.”

james gave sirius a brief look and nodded. walking back, searching for the poltergeist in the castle.

“what’s wrong with you?!” remus hissed once james was out of sight.

sirius removing the hand on his mouth, growling as he says, “me?! i’m not the one getting it on with a soul, remus. what you’re okay with this?”

“yes,” remus gave a noncommittal shrug, “i’d be okay with it even if you were the one totally enamoured by a ghost.”

sirius gave him a dead look, “you’d be okay with your boyfriend in love with a ghost.”

remus rolls his eyes, a light dust of pink glowing on his cheeks and ears, “not like that, i just mean if the situation was different, you’d want somebody to support you. besides, it’s james, i’m sure this is all harmless.”

“harmless?! am i really the only thinking this is down right strange? i mean it’s a spirit for merlin’s sake! i know my family isn’t exactly picky with their romantic counterparts, fucking cousins and all, so i might not be the best person to defend my case. but this is a dead thing! a ghost. haunting hogwarts. that has to cross some boundary, right?”

remus softly groaning in frustration, “do you think i don’t know that? of course i think this is crazy! but what else could we do? when has james ever listened to us? especially with his penchant for following skirts.”

“and the occasional pants.” peter added with a shrug.

“it’s even crazier that you agree with me but is still willing to let this go on?!”

“if it’s anything like his previous escapades then i’m sure this won’t last as long.” remus sighs, rubbing his neck and stretching his neck.

“ultimately, let him make a fool of himself then. great idea.”

“i think we should trust james more,” peter shrugged, “i mean i’ve seen more weird pairings than a wizard and a ghost. my neighbour’s first boyfriend was a goblin, you know.”

remus lifts his hand to peter, as if to say, see? peter gets it!

“et tu peter?” sirius deadpanned. “traitors. both of you.” turning away as he swiftly walks away from the group.

“what did i do?” peter calls out to him.

“you, especially were no help!” sirius shouted back. his huffs and angry steps echoing in the stone castle.

if they weren’t going to stop james from being barmy then it’s up to him to stop this from going further.

it was a week later and james was still dating the damn ghost. he was even off celebrating some obscure couple holiday. maybe it was your death anniversary, who knows. sweet circe, james is down bad.

sirius slammed a thick dusty old book in the quiet corner of the library.

madam pince already looking over to them aggressively hushing the group.

remus immediately called out a flustered apology before turning to sirius to whisper.

“what is that?”

with smug grin and a hand on his narrow hips, “this, my sweet mooney, is the answer to our haunting problem.”

an ancient, dusty, dirty book that was practically falling apart titled, polly’s practical practices to the paranormal and poltergeists.

“i told you to leave it.” remus clicking his tongue and glaring at the overly smug man.

peter gingerly grabbed the book and started to comb through the pages. “how is this going to help?”

“go to page 189, it talks about exorcisms.” leaning over peter’s shoulders.

“you’re going to exorcist james’ lover?” the tone remus used was full of judgment and condensation. and sirius does not welcome that energy into his space. so, he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms— ready to shut down the negative energy.

“it also says on page 7 that ghosts are simply souls that are unable to cross through the spiritual realm. so if anything, i’m doing them a favour.”

peter chewing his lip in contemplation. “shouldn’t we tell james about this first?”

“james is biased, therefore his opinion is invalid.”

remus leaning back into his seat in a slump, “james is a grown man. he can decide for himself what he wants to do in his free time, even if that includes hanging around with a ghost all day.”

sirius feels a twitch in his eye coming. remus for every ounce of his prettiness, equates that to his stubbornness. so you can just imagine how stubborn this man is when he wants to be.

“babe,” sirius groans out, “i don’t understand how you can just let james make a fool of himself like this!—“ there’s a distinct shushing sound, and sirius looks over to sheepishly nod in apology, continuing in a much lower but just as aggressive tone, “he’s dating a fucking ghost, and i’m going to stop it, okay?”

remus levelled him with a glare. “have you even tried getting to know them?”

“the ghost?”

remus levels him with a stare, “they have a name.”

“whatever.” sirius scoffs before straightening up and looking at two of his friends betrayal dawning on his face, “don’t tell m—“

“i’ve gotten to know them very well actually, peter has too. hung out multiple times now.”

“you have? since when? how? why didn’t you tell me?”

peter, closing the book softly, “since james told us, they’re actually pretty cool. not as mental as the other ghosts for one.”

sirius gawks, the familiar sting of disappointment and betrayal brewing in his navel. “and you didn’t think to inform me of this development?!”

“mr. black, please leave the premises if you can’t keep the decorum expected in the library!”

“—sorry!” sirius calls back, before turning back to them, whispering harshly, “some friends you are.” swiftly grabbing the book back.

“someone has to be since you’ve refused to talk to james.”

“because he’s gone crazy, i don’t talk to crazy people— already had enough of that from my mother.”

remus now reaching for the book and reading the table of contents, “how do you even know if this book is accurate?”

sirius rolls his eyes, “it’s the only book left about ghosts,”

remus raised an eyebrow at that, “the only book left? or you just don’t know where to look?”

peter snickered. “considering this is the longest time he’s been in the library for the last six years, i’m guessing he doesn’t even have a library card.”

sirius let out a quiet gasp, petulant as he defends, “this is not the longest time, i know where the sections are.”

“right. well good luck on whatever it is you’re planning. if i wasn’t clear enough— i want no part of this whatsoever, assuming it all blows up in your face.” remus raising a scarred hand in the air and sauntering away.

sirius clicks his tongue, annoyed, “peter, hand me some parchment. i need to make notes about cleansing haunted areas.”

sirius already has a solid plan. he had thought of everything! he’s already practiced the ceremony in the dorms, with peter acting like the ghost. he even practiced drawing the runes and the enunciation of the incantations. he just needs to know where you usually reside in the castle, so he can draw the runes.

the only problem is, he doesn’t know where you are and what better way to know than from romeo, himself.

“james,” sirius calls out.

“here we go.” he hears peter wince, but resolutely ignoring him.

taking a deep breath, “i want to apologize for the way i acted, you deserve to be happy. and if they make you as happy as you say they do, then okay. as your best mate, i’m going to be more supportive of you.”

james, like a big softie that he is, immediately beamed a smile, grabbing sirius by the shoulders and crushing him into a hug.

“i knew you’d come around!” he gushed in his ear. sounding so utterly elated that he almost feels guilty for lying. but he has to do this. for james. “sirius you’re my brother! of course, i forgive you! i don’t think i can even go on for longer not speaking to you. bugged me like mad.”

remus all but looked at sirius in complete suspicion, which he ignores in favour of looking as earnest as he possibly could. peter looking down right nervous as his gaze filters through all three of them.

“to prove my support. i want to meet y/n and be their friend. get to know them a little bit better.”

and if it was even possible, james shone even brighter, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling in excitement. he hadn’t seen that look on his face for quite some time now. looking equivocally happy.

“let’s go right now!”

“now?!”

“yeah, they should be on the third floor.” james grinned. walking a brisk pace and everyone jogging to keep up.

“what are you doing?” remus whispered as he power walked beside him.

sirius feigned innocence, “i’m supporting my best mate.”

remus frowned, not buying it, “and this is after you exorcise them or? or do you plan on damning their soul now?”

sirius clicked his tongue, “you told me to support james and when i do, you doubt me. it’s like you don’t love me.”

“you better be supporting james or i swear to god—“

“so james!” looking ahead, resolutely ignoring the stare burning to the side of his face. “anything i should know before meeting this special apparition of yours?”sirius says, lips stretching into an easy smile.

james slowed his pace, perfectly chirpy to divulge any information about his lover. glowing pink on his cheeks as he starts, “well, they’ve been a ghost in hogwarts since 1902, they were sorted in—“

“do you know how they died?” sirius cut off. resulting in a rude elbow jab from remus and a small frown from peter.

“what?” he said indignantly. isn’t that a vital question to ask? asking how a ghost died?

“they said there was an incident, an ogre got into the castle and, um, killed them,”

yikes.

the book said ghosts may not know how they died. associating their willingness to pass because they haven’t had the closure to move on. though if you knew how you died, it seems counter-productive to tell you about your death in order for you to pass on. so that’s crossed out.

“so are they secretly disembowelled or something? like almost-headless nick?”

james looked back and pursed his lips, gaze turning a little bit sharper, “no, they look perfectly okay. beautiful even.”

oh sure, he thought.

“they do,” remus piped up giving him a stern look. as if he heard him, “very pretty.”

sirius rolls his eyes, “oh of course, puts veela’s to shame, i’m sure.” waving his hand, opting for nonchalance as he continues, “so, what do you usually talk about with them then? surely common interests with an old ghost is hard to find.”

“they’re actually quite young compared to the other ghosts. that’s why they mostly keep to themselves on this floor.”

sirius grimace, fighting a shiver down his spine. “yes being over sixty. very young.”

james glared at him, and he raised his arms in surrender, “just joking.”

“—we talk about a lot of things, quidditch is one.”

“quidditch.” he repeated. do ghosts even follow the leagues?

remus placing an arm around james, “they used to play quidditch, a chaser.”

“quite good too, found their name on past rosters in the library.” peter grinned.

james beamed, encouraged by the others to prattle on. louder and faster like he can’t help but talk about you. like he was just waiting for a reason to. “and they liked potions, helps me study sometimes—“

“study.” he repeated. “with your ghost lover.”

“—oh, we’re here! my love?” james calling out into the alcoves and the barren hall. “i bought my friends, are you here?”

and then like a chill going up his spine, you showed up. floating a hair just above the ground, making it look like as if you’re walking.

you were a pale translucent thing. he had hardly looked at you the first time he’s seen you. confidently thinking he didn’t have to until james inevitably moves on from you. frankly, he didn’t know what to expect once he saw you, again. maybe look a bit alive, since his very much alive friend is very much in love with you.

you looked pretty, sure. but it was nothing to write home about. certainly not the kind that he would be willing to overlook the state of your mortality. but yeah, sure, pretty.

he almost wants to rolls his eyes.

“james, i was going to look for you.” you breathed. looking equally enamoured.

“what for my love?” he asks.

then you noticed the other approaching individuals, “oh hello, remus, peter, and—?“

“this is sirius, remember? i told you about him, didn’t i?” james but all grinned, going up to you and raising his hand as if to touch you. if he even can.

you looked like thin sheets blowing in the wind. if thin sheets can talk and haunt.

“that you did.” you laughed, and then your hand started to look fuckin’ solid. like a solid, human hand grabbing james’ and even squeezing back.

“nice to see you again, y/n, how have you been?” peter smiled.

you shrugged, smiling a little strained. “still very much dead, and here. thanks.”

sirius looked at your joined hands. tight and secure.

remus nudges him out of stupor and he flashes a strained smile.

so you can materialize. at least that answers some questions. though it opens a new array of questions for him now. questions he has no problem vocalizing.

“you can materialize?”

you turn to him, looking beyond nonchalant and relaxed with the whole situation. you obviously also hold no objections to the peculiar relationship. looking all too willing to be james’ dead lover.

“if i try hard enough, yes.”

“how long can you materialize?”

“if it’s just my hands, i can probably hold for a good hour or so.”

the book didn’t mention this.

sirius looks at you, up and down, apprehensive and suspicious. “can every ghost do this then?”

“i think so, though i haven’t seen them attempt it. i’m guessing they never really had any reason to.” you turn to james and grin at him. like some secret was just shared.

james looked at you twice as bright and giddy. hopelessly, happy and pink.

sirius thinks he’s going to hurl.

“so, do you just go materializing your hand, touching school boys every decade or so?”

“pardon?”

“sirius!” remus hissed.

sirius smiles the fakest smile he has, “just a joke.”

you raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t comment. he can feel the heat of james glare and hear the insistent shuffling of peter to his side.

“why did you decide to date james? are you planning on possessing him for his living body?”

“sirius black!” remus grits out, pinching his side.

james stepped forward to shield you, a frown deep in his face, but you just tug at his arm, and he softens.

you laugh, “no, i don’t plan on possessing my boyfriend. as for why i’m dating him,” you turn to look at james again, sharing a secret smile again, “well, i quite like him.”

sirius clicks his tongue.

the night continued on. he asked questions, and you answered them.

he would be, admittedly, very difficult. maybe even down-right rude but you seem to assimilate to his attitude soon enough.

every jab and attack he would aim at you. you would receive with grace and an amused ghost smile.

eventually james wanted some alone time and sirius was just glad for a reason to finally leave.

“you know you could have been a bit nicer or at least decent to y/n.” remus hissed once james and casper went away.

“oh trust me, that was me being nice.” he scoffs.

“asking insensitive questions is not nice, last i checked.” peter said.

shaking his head, “i could have said it was fucking creepy that james is fucking dating a ghost. or maybe tell james he needs to make an appointment with a mind healer soon —that his impulsivity with the concept of “falling in love” is all twisted and, let’s face it, short-lived— pun-intended. i could write to fleamont that his son is fracking with a soul trapped in hogwarts! but i didn’t. trust me that was being nice.” he all but shouted, panting as his face blotched red.

“finally dropping your supporting your best mate agenda then, are you?”

sirius turns to remus, huffing and beyond betrayed, “have you not been listening?!”

remus clicks his tongue, “i understand, but it’s just as you said. all of this is short-lived that will eventually die out. so why bother stressing about it? y/n is a pretty cool spirit if you get to know them.”

“it’s a spirit from the 1900, what else is there to know?”

“you are a real piece of work.” remus giving him a hard glare, pulling at his fringe hard.

peter all quiet and mousy said, “i don’t even know why you’re so worked up about all this.”

sirius groans, “the reason why i’m so worked up about all this is, because it is james, we all know how he is. this is going to be another repeat of him falling for somebody, getting his hopes up and fall face down on the ground. and i’ve seen him fall way too many times to let it happen again. it’s a fucking ghost. there is no future with them. james doesn’t see reason, so it’s up to us to help him.”

remus blinked, and then sagged.

“i get it, okay? i get where you’re coming from. but i think out of everyone here, james is the one that understands this the most. just trust him on this. he’s not daft, he knows what he’s doing.”

“but what if he gets hurt again?”

“then we’ll be there for him.”

you can still somewhat hear them argue in the empty halls. you were sure james can too, if his frown was anything to go by.

“sirius is… lovely.” you hummed.

james groans, pulling you to to sit with him on one of the benches. “i’m so sorry about that, he’s just—“

you raise hand to stop his blabber, “i completely understand, he’s protective of you. i feel the same way.” you whispered.

james looks at you abashed and pink, before he looks away. still, rubbing his thumb to your knuckles even as it slowly becomes faint and pale, once again.

“he’ll warm up to you soon,” he nodded.

you smiled, “should i be worried if he doesn’t?”

he turns to you again, looking at you completely besotted, “you shouldn’t, he’ll like you.”

“you sound sure.”

“because i know him, and i know you. you are, after all, the most charming ghost in the castle.” he grins.

“what a title,” you softly sighed.

“just give him time,”

suddenly you’ve been reminded why you wanted to meet with him. you felt the phantom rhythm of your dead heart thrum through your veins. nervous after so many decades, funny.

“i’ve been reading, lately.”

“oh? about what?” he grins at you, cheeks a healthy glow of life and eyes bright like the light in the morning.

you almost falter, but thank merlin you don’t.

you were sure you wouldn’t be able to tell him if you postponed any more.

“about… leaving.”

“leaving?” he straightened. “what do you mean?”

you flowed to the other side of the room, higher than you would usually go, whenever you were with him. wanting to keep the illusion of normalcy of walking with him. like you were still alive. like a normal student with their boyfriend.

“i’ve been researching about this for a while, even before you came here—hogwarts, i mean, and i think i’ve found some sort of break through. this is what i wanted to talk to you about before— before meeting sirius and all that.”

“what like leaving the castle grounds? or—“ he gulps, looking absolutely terrified. “or leaving?”

you know he was smart enough to answer his own questions. but you also considered he would be in denial, unabashedly hopeful, so you clarified. “about passing on. leaving, for good. i’ve already talked to some other spirits in the castle, who wants to go too and some have already agreed.”

“but don’t you—“ james licked his lips, shifting one foot to the other, “don’t you want to stay with me?”

your chest is hollow, nay, non-existent. but the way he looks at you, his voice, and his warm hand reaching out to you, made you think your chest might be aching with pain.

for all your years in purgatory, haunting and never moving on. all these years of weaving through the halls, seeing different faces every year, it all seemed so short.

and the stretch of your time comprising of moments of when james potter was seeking you out. talking to you. making a companion out of you. and being with you. making you feel alive again.

he was young, bright, and callous, and rough. but he is also sweet, soft, and kind.

you knew from the start, this would never last.

you knew, like everyone else, that he’ll eventually leave too.

there was no life with you. that ended decades ago.

but he still has time.

“james,” you softly called out, floating over to him. thinking long and hard to be corporeal. even if it’s just your hands, so you could touch him.

“don’t.“ he looks down, biting down on his lips, refusing to look at you now. but he did nothing to move away from your hold, he never did, instead lifting his own to touch yours, soft yet firm. “don’t tell me some bull about living my life.”

you sigh, lifting his head to see his ever beautiful eyes, “but you have to.”

he softly shook his head in your hands, his grip tightening afraid to let go. “and i want to spend every moment i can with you,”

“and then what?” you ask.

he stops, his gaze moving all around your face, as if memorizing it to the fullest extent.

“i’m to stay now, and then you leave, and then i stay here? forever?”

he shook his head, pouting like kid, and you always endeared.

“i could get a job here and live here all year long, you can stay in my quarters where we can talk and be toge—“

you laugh letting him go, your hands turning translucent like before, like always. “there is no life with me, james. we’ve talked about this.” you look at him. you see his lip harshly bit down, gnawing, as he pulled to release the blood.

“you know this.“

james turns away from you. scratching his neck, his eyebrows furrowed. like the first time you saw him in the halls. after another failed attempt at wooing birds.

“i know.” he conceded. “i’ve been reading too. i’ve checked out books on how you can pass on. i think i’ve checked out every damn book about ghosts in the library.” he laughs bitterly.

you didn’t know this. he didn’t tell you. somehow that made the pain in your chest clench more. you always thought he would be against you leaving. something on your face must’ve shown this because he clarifies, before looking down again.

“i thought that if— i was the one to find the solution, find the way for you to move on, it wouldn’t feel— it wouldn’t hurt. i thought if it was on my own terms, i would be able to accept it easily. but i’m wrong, of course. it wouldn’t be that simple. especially not with you. with us.”

“you were looking for a way for me to pass on?” you ask gently, stopping low to catch his gaze.

he looked as earnest like the day you met him, nodding as he said, “because i know how miserable you felt. i know you—you don’t have enough reason to stay here any longer than you have. i know us, being together, isn’t reason enough for you to be stuck here for all eternity. i know this, but i was still hoping—”

“oh james,” you sighed.

“some irrational part of my brain wants you stay. i even thought of being with you here too. be with you after—“

“james potter.” you sharply cut in, gaze hardening in anger. but his gaze of despair made you soft and sigh again.

“i will not let you.”

you think of all the ghost trapped in the castle. you see them through the years, losing all sense of themselves more and more. becoming irate and miserable. seeing the same grounds, the same routines, the same days, mashing together in an endless cycle. never moving forward.

and then you see his eyes so full of love, and life, and bravery, and sweetness and roughness. even just thinking he might succumb to the cycle—

“i will not let you.” you repeated.

james reached out again, “i love you,”

you smiled at him, the faux fuzziness spreading down to your phantom toes. “you’ll find someone else to love james. someone who can spend more years of life with you, with so much love to give, i have no doubt about it.”

you think back to the boy crying with a broken rose in the halls, another heartache. the bright eyed look you see him give the person he’s chosen to love that day. another love. always so earnest, always with so much love that he has to give it to someone else.

you brush over his soft cheeks, committed to feeling him for the last time.

“do you—“ he breathed, leaning into your touch and bashfully looking down, “do you think i could see you on the other side?”

you gave a loop-sided smile, seriously how utterly charming, you thought. “i would like to think so. i can even greet you myself once you arrive if you’d like.”

he looks up at you, giving you a pretty smile, “yeah, okay.”

you didn’t leave immediately. you waited for another week.

james drew the runes for you, with sirius eagerly helping. you spent your last days, exploring the hidden parts of the castle with james, showing him all the secret passages you’ve come across. you spent your last day with james talking. taking in a full-body corporeal form and hugging him for the first time. and kissing him.

you left quietly, in the night when he was asleep.

he looked for you in the halls, the next morning, hoping you’d change your mind.

when you didn’t show after an hour, he left—blinking the embarrassing tears collecting in his eyes.

eventually though, james will move on. he doesn’t quite understand true love all that well yet. he’ll still mistake other feelings for love. maybe fall quickly. maybe love more than one person at the same time. eventually, he’ll fall in love, for real this time, find someone else to give his seemingly endless amount of love to and it’ll be returned ten-fold.

or at least it’s what sirius says to remus and peter. after remus reprimanded him for being too happy that you were gone.

extra:

later, when james opens the door on that halloween night. the living room glowing bright with green and the echoes of his son’s cries and his wife’s fast stomps upstairs. he would close his eyes in a swift end. thinking how peaceful it is, how quick— his face graced with a ghost of a smile, he would think of you, and hope you’re waiting on the other side.

[nativehueofresolution]

i really enjoy how the amc series has made louis and daniel foils for one another in many ways, particularly with regards to how their shared hypocrisy/performative nature gives them unique insight into one another.

like from the very start of the series we see daniel is quite literally selling a version of himself as a successful, no-bs crusading reporter, but also rolling his eyes at the artifice of it all. while he certainly does seem to have done a lot of good journalism on important topics and generally skew more progressive than the mainstream (just from his little book blurbs we know he was reporting on the aids crisis early on in his career, wrote a book on the us gov's terrible environmental policies being linked to capitalism when he was still young enough to have luke as the picture on the book blurb)... we also see that personally he is, among other things, comfortable saying offensive things as a way to try and bait/push into getting a response.

he does this several times with rashid/armand - asking him if he's sleeping with his boss after talking to him for like five minutes, generally asking invasive questions about his personal history/beliefs to try and get some telling reaction that will help him follow the story. it's also my interpretation of the callous way he pushes louis on the subject of claudia's assault; he can see louis is editing claudia's diaries and seizes on that as a weak spot that's hiding a greater secret, and so he acts provocative to get louis to say more about how he's choosing what to show daniel. and i mean, on some level, it works because he clues into the fact there's something off about rashid/armand relatively quickly and correctly deduces that claudia's words have been redacted not just for privacy but to suit a particular narrative louis has. in fact i think the fact that it has gotten results is how daniel convinced himself that behaviors like bullying members of staff (who he surely knows are greatly at risk of harm by nature of their job) or being crass about terrible topics like assault and abuse are acceptable - it's a part of him doing his job, the greater good ultimately being a reporter doing the right thing by getting to the truth. he's doing morally suspect things so that he can be the ethical journalist he identifies as.

which is just soooo similar to how louis is obsessed with being a moral vampire and goes out of his way to show off to daniel he has consenting human blood bags, his staff has all chosen to be here, don't ask about where all this is coming from, no questionable billionaire exploitation here, no sir. louis, too, is fine with overlooking moral quandaries that get in the way of what he sees as his ultimate moral challenge, being an ethical vampire. i think part of why he is fond of daniel and allows him liberties (in addition to just generally finding his addictive personality and struggles with performing heterosexuality relatable) is that louis senses they are also kindred spirits in this key way - they are men who are deeply concerned with ethics, and more than that with having the moral high ground (regardless of how shaky that ground is). i don't know if louis is necessarily even conscious of it, but i think he also wants daniel to interview him both because he knows daniel is similar enough to him that he can see past the facade, won't settle for the easy answer like how louis wouldn't accept lestat's vampiric morality and because if he can convince daniel of the narrative louis is pushing then louis will consider it the ultimate validation, as it comes from a 'paragon' of truth-telling (something he knows he could never get from someone like armand, say). even though louis also on some level seems to be aware daniel is biased and making his own jumps in logic, louis wants him to have some sort of external human moral authority so he grants him that status. he tells daniel he will convince readers claudia was an innocent, even as daniel points out he can't control how people respond to his account of claudia's murders. they're just two liars obsessed with honesty, thinking the other can grant absolution.

[darlingdarkly]

Fates Worse Than Death part 4

Deimos x f!reader Noncon Enemies to Lovers

6k words

CW: noncon!elements, dubcon!elements, unprotected pnv climactic intercourse, outdoor sex, chase kink

Part: 1, 3, 5

You expect to be locked up. Caged, enclosed, tied down and forget about the key, it no longer exists. But when you wake up that next morning from a deep restful sleep, courtesy of your extremely comfortable new mattress, and he carefully undoes your restraints you realize that won’t be the case. He walks away from you, already showered, dressed and ready for the day.

When he turns and realizes you haven’t followed him towards the bathroom for your shower he speaks. “Are you going to get up or lay in bed all day?” He asks like you have a choice. “For what? To take a shower just so I can come back and get re-tied down? Or are you just coaxing me into getting up so you can move me to a proper cell?”

“You’re only a prisoner in your mind. Now come on or our breakfast is gonna get cold.” Yeah fucking right, you think. He turns away once more and you exclaim your retort to his back. “The restraints I sleep in beg to differ!”

He doesn’t turn back in your direction, just calls back at you from over his shoulder. “Those restraints keep you from slitting my throat in the middle of the night. Something I’m sure you’ve fantasized about more than once.” He’s not wrong. “When you can show me you can be trusted, maybe I’ll give you a little more free will.”

“You know the last time I checked, people who are living of their own free will get to come and go as they please. I try to take one little walk in the woods and I wake up tied to a table. Is that all in my mind too?”

“We both know ‘a little walk in the woods’ isn’t all you had in mind and besides, for someone who considers themselves a prisoner you sure do a lot of complaining about your freedoms. Tell me, have they started furnishing the cells back at Rainbow with queen sized beds these days?” He counters.

“No, but at least we believe in taking prisoners instead of just cutting down every adversary we come across with no discretion, that’s more than you can say.”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” He challenges.

“Yeah, and why is that, Deimos?” You challenge back arms crossed over your chest.

He finally turns back to you. “Because it’s about time Rainbow learned a lesson about meddling in things that are none of its business. Because you came out here to me, sought me out with ill intent and you couldn’t finish the job, none of you could. You were out-maneuvered, unprepared and arrogant and you had no idea what you were dealing with.” He takes a step forward before continuing, bridging the distance between you.

“I left you still breathing for information, to find out what you knew and to try and get a handle on who I’ve let get too close.” There’s a pause as he closes the last of the gap, standing before you and encompassing all of your attention as you stare up at him raptly.

“And I kept you because I like you.” He leans down close. Calm, cool and collected, showing you even unrestrained he harbors no fear for you and you can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks. “And because I can.”

You don’t have a response for that and are ultimately left staring after him as he stands back up straight and tall and walks away once again, knowing he’s won the little mental battle of wills.

When you’re too stunned to move, still processing the information he grows impatient. “The hose is always an option, sugar cane. The choice is yours.” You scowl but get up off the bed and push past him towards the bathroom.

You undress and he’s way more attentive than he was the first time, eyes running over you with a scrutiny that’s not purely for security purposes. He reaches out with a glove as you spin around to head for the shower and it brushes against the exposed skin of your ribs, making you pull away and sneer like a cat being rubbed on its belly by unfamiliar fingers.

“Easy. I just wanna see how you’re mending.”

“Yeah? Well you can look with your eyeballs, not your hands.” You say this but don’t pull away any further. He doesn’t press it and removes his hand, apparently satisfied with the progress of the healing process.

Showered and ready for the day, redressed in the jumpsuit that had been your downfall you follow him towards the mess hall but instead of carrying right on through the huge double doors he heads in the direction of his office, something that puzzles you. When you get there your breakfast is already set up, one for each of you on his desk.

“Working through breakfast? Did you really have that much pile up while you were gone?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“No, you made sure of that, sweetheart. But I didn’t think your breakfast would go down so well while being glared down by a few hundred sets of angry eyes. You're not exactly popular at the moment.”

Your mouth opened for a retort but you thought better of it and just nodded in understanding before sitting down across from him. You both dig in unceremoniously and you watch from across the desk while he checks his emails while he eats, stealing little glances up at him between bites.

You hadn’t really thought much of it the first time, you’d been more occupied on your escape at that point to care about much else. But the desk setting is a bit more intimate than you’d been the first time around, closer than you’d originally been to him and with nothing else to distract you it was impossible not to stare.

He must notice you noticing him. “Something wrong?”

He asks after pulling the mask away from his face just enough to get the food to his mouth but not enough for you to catch a glimpse of him underneath.

“Why do you do that?” He swallows and then answers your question with another question. “Do what?”

You motion to him with your fork. “Eat like that? Why not take the mask off?” You ask the question innocently but there’s depths to your inquisitions, an unmistakable curiosity to know just what lies behind the hard shell.

“Don’t want to.” He leaves it at that but you pursue at your own peril.

“But why?” He cocks his head to the side. Like examining a particularly interesting bug that’s crawled over his foot, you have his full attention now.

“Why do you wanna know, sugar cane? Are you curious about what I look like?” And you can feel his eyes boring into you, he’s stopped looking over at his computer and he’s stopped eating and now so have you as you feel like somehow the tables have turned without you even really noticing and your face is heating.

“I- I don’t know. No.. it’s just.. weird is all.” And that’s all you can muster up in response. Too uncomfortable with the insinuations of the reasons behind your question and he knows but lets you drop it. You both finish your breakfast and it humors him to see you’ve stopped sneaking little looks at him, content just to eat almost with your head down, lost in thought and a bit embarrassed at being seen through so easily.

You go to gather up the trash and trays when he stops you. “Leave it, I’ve got something I want to show you.”

He gets up and you follow after him. He was right for having you eat in his office, every single person you pass in the halls as you make your way to wherever he’s taking you looks at you with loathing. It’s hard to believe short and stocky could have any fans with how much of an asshole he was to you but he must have some kind of winning charm amongst the troops because they all look ready to jump you if not for your all mighty keeper.

You stick close to him and even after you pass through the big double doors exiting the building and pushing out into the open air it still reeks of hate. But he seems not to notice, you’re sure he does notice but he doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. You’re his and they’ll do well to remember that, no matter what attorcites you commit.

“Do you like dogs?” He asks and you are blindsided by the question and all its simplicity, so much so you ask him to repeat himself. “Dogs?”

“Yeah, dogs.” You’re still confused but you answer it, it’s an easy enough question. “Yeah. Why?”

“I’ve been around dogs all my life. My daddy raised hunting dogs, bred ‘em, raised ‘em. Trained ‘em up from young pups, made them into disciplined hunting machines. Blue ticks mostly, but some hounds and setters as well. They’re called man’s best friend for a reason. A well trained dog can sometimes make a better companion than some men. Fiercely driven, highly motivated, loyal to a fault.”

He’s taking you over to the east side of the compound, you’d never been out this way but you’re less concerned with your surroundings than him opening up to you for once. You wonder why he is.

“He instilled his love for canines into me. So much so I took a lot of their characteristics into consideration to help develop my ability. I studied them closely, used their natural born instincts to help advance my own skills. They give to me just as much as I give to them.”

He speaks like he owns them, but you’ve never heard so much as a bark. You can’t imagine being here for all this time and having yet to see or even hear one. It’s when he stops in front of a huge building and opens up the heavy metal doors that you find out why. The noise leaps out at you as soon as the door is cracked.

It’s more than barks, it’s whines and whimpers and even a few bays but they’re not hurt or upset, in fact quite the opposite. You step past him into the building, unlike outside it’s cool and comfortable and he closes the doors behind you before continuing on through the facility.

There are pins set up down either side of the walkway and each pin is a ten by ten foot fenced-in square that houses a single dog. Each pin has a wooden dog house standing in the far corner but none of them are in use, instead each dog is pressed up against the front of the chain link cage as close as they can get, their tails a flurry of wags.

He stops at each cage, stooping down and talking to each in turn while they lap at his gloves through the links in the chain and the others further down the line wait in almost indignant anticipation.

There must be a dozen in all, dogs of a few different breeds and in a whole array of different coats waiting, albeit a bit impatiently for master to come around, it’s clear they’d missed him.

“They’re good dogs. Impossible to keep them quiet though, so I had the place sound proofed. It’s not ideal to keep them here now that we’ve been discovered but they’re like my children and I can’t part with them. It’d end me if anything happened to them.”

You drop down on a knee in front of a cage and the dog inside, what appears to be a blue tick coon hound with a white and brindle coat eases up to the front of the cage, all nose as it sniffs out your scent and must approve of what it smells as it cautiously but hopefully pushes against the cage as you reach out to stroke its fur.

“That’s Clover. Sweet girl, very driven that one but somewhat lacking in discipline and attention span.” She pushes against the cage broadside, rubbing her whole body against it as you give her pettings. “Well hi, hi, hi Clover girl! What a sweet baby!” She rolls over against the chain, dropping onto her back and exposing her belly, which you try your best to reach through the chain with your fingers.

“She likes you.” You smile as your fingers brush over her soft undercoat. “The feelings mutual.” He can’t help but feel that ache gnawing at his heart watching you play with the dogs, he’d expected a positive response but he didn’t expect it to affect him so much seeing you play with them. He tries to recompose himself and continue on.

“Dogs can be a useful asset or they can be a detriment, it’s all about how you work with them. They’re wild in nature, they need release and freedom, a chance to stretch their legs and quell the urges of their instincts. People can be the same way.”

And you don’t like the look he’s giving you, the way his gaze lingers on you from your peripheral. “Where are you going with this, Deimos?” You ask but don’t stop your loving administrations. “I want you to help me with my ability.”

You stop petting Clover and pull your hand away from the fence, prompting her to roll back over and cock her head. “And why would I do that?”

“As an opportunity to stretch your legs. Run wild, not feel so much like a prisoner.” It takes you less than two seconds to shoot him down. “No.”

“Are you sure? Think about it.” He prods. “I don’t need to. No.”

“Come outside with me. It’s too loud in here for a conversation.” You don’t necessarily want to continue this talk, you certainly don’t want to help him train in any way shape or form. He’s a terrorist, the literal direct enemy. But you can’t exactly refuse so you stand and follow him out of the kennel and into the afternoon light. He closes the door behind you and turns to you, clearly avid about making this happen somehow.

“Look, I’ll make a deal with you. All I want you to do is run for the hills, if you can escape me then you’ve earned your freedom, I won’t pursue you any longer.” And he leaves it hanging out in the open just like that.

“And get shocked again? No, not with this thing on my neck. I’ll pass.” He slips a hand into the pocket of his tac pants and pulls out a slim remote, with the singular press of a button the collar of your jumpsuit beeps. It’s hard to believe it’s really that simple. “Just like that?”

“Just like that, sweetheart.” You’re still not exactly comfortable with his little nicknames for you and you’re still wary of the whole thing.

“You want me to run away? Like to try to get away again?” He nods.

“I don’t think I really need to remind you where that got me last time, do I?”

“That was different.” Your brows furrow. “How?”

“You’re supervised this time.”

“Oh really? And what makes you think I’ll believe anything you say? I could get away and you’d probably still catch up to me and bring me back anyway. How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

He leans back against the outer wall of the building, another one of the many moments he’s glad for the mask, because there’s a smug smirk resting on his lips as he knows he’s got you, he knows all you need now is a little push to your ego.

“Just to be clear you won’t escape, trust me on that but you can sure as hell try. Besides, have I ever gone back on my word before? I promised if you took that punishment like a good girl I’d find opportunities for you to stretch your legs. This is it, now do you want it or not?”

You consider your options for a moment, there aren’t many and you really don’t want to go back inside and sit on your ass for the rest of the day. “Just run?”

His smirk widens and you can hear it in his voice this time around. “Just run, sugar cane. I’ll give you a thirty second head start. You’ll need it.”

You take one last look over your shoulder towards the wood line before turning back to him. “When do we start?”

His answer is the count. “1.. 2.. 3..”

You can hardly believe what you’re doing as you do it but you take off for the woods, nary a look back over your shoulder once you do, you don’t really know where you’re going, the town was north and this is east but if you can just get away apparently it won’t really matter. You’re hesitant, you heard the beep in the collar of your jumpsuit but your nervous system still remembers the shock it suffered not all too long ago and isn't exactly eager for a second dose.

You drop off the other side of a big hill, zigzagging through brush and around the base of huge pines, your feet slipping through the pine duff at a hurried speed as the breeze pushes through your hair. It does feel good, you have to admit. It’s been a minute since you’ve felt freedom quite like this, the escape felt different somehow. Scared, rushed. Now you just feel a bit exalted.

You hear it and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck prick up to points. The whooshing sound of displaced air, this time far easier to spot in the daytime than in the dead of night. His deathMARK. You want to bolt but your feet hold you back, you can only imagine you’re nearing that line. It’s then that he crests the hill behind you and instead of evading him you skid to a stop and so does he. You both stand opposite of each other, catching your breath.

“You’re not trying.” You can’t stand how he just seems to see everything so plainly. “Yes I am.” You lie.

“No. You’re not. Why?” It’s really no use, lying to him, he just sees right through it. “I wasn’t meaning not to. It’s just.. the line.” He’s impressed that after only encountering it once you could possibly know for certain where the line was buried. “I told you your collar is off. You had my word.”

You don’t drop his gaze, your eyes burning into the black panes of his mask, he sighs. “Come here.” He walks up to the line buried in the ground and steps past it before turning around and extending his hand to you. “It’s off, you have my word.” He says it again and the conviction in his voice is hard to not believe.

You walk up to the edge, the point of no return and after a moment's hesitation, you cross it. Your body prepares for the debilitating shock but it never comes and you look up at him, a meek expression on your face, one he’d never seen. “You can trust me.” He doesn’t justify it with an explanation or embellish it, just states it and leaves it at that.

“Now go again, and try to give me a run for my money this time.” You smile, it’s transient, there and then gone. You can’t help it and you hoped he hadn’t caught it, but he did and it’s all he thinks about for the whole thirty seconds of your head start.

Free of all inhibitions you dash through the woods, taking off in a straight line as quickly as you can. It takes longer before you hear the whoosh of the drone this time around. You push yourself faster, arms pumping as you try to out run it. You jump over a fallen log and skirt a huge rock before you come upon fairly flat ground and chance a look over your shoulder. He’s there, trailing you about forty feet back and you feel a dagger of panic shoot through your heart.

You take off again, head down, eyes narrowed as you try to out run him but you can hear his footfalls against the forest floor and he’s gaining. You redirect, shifting directions quickly in an attempt to outmaneuver him.

You bolt around an ancient oak and weave your way between a cluster of young pines but just when you think you’ve got him you feel his arms encircle your waist as he brings you to the ground like a lion pouncing on a gazelle. You instinctively bring your arms up beneath you to cushion the fall as he lands on top of you, his body covering your legs.

You both lie there panting, he can feel your heartbeat through the palms of his gloves at the small of your back and this whole thing might’ve been a mistake because he can feel himself growing half hard just chasing you down.

“Fuck me, how are you so fast?” He just laughs, a hearty genuine sound that rumbles through you and makes a heat flare in your cheeks that’s got nothing to do with running. “Secrets, sugar cane. Gonna try again?”

“You bet your ass I’m trying again.” His response is to smack yours, savoring the little squeal of protest it produces from you as you scramble to get out from underneath him. He pushes up off of you, sitting back with his arms behind him as he looks up at you rise up from the dirt.

You turn and run and he watches after you as he begins the count anew. You have a plan this time, it’s clear there’s no outrunning him, he’s too quick but maybe you can hide. You keep count in your head, if he lets the drone loose before you found your spot then there was no point in hiding at all he’d just catch you again. About twenty seconds into the count in your head—and you hoped to god he kept his count by the Mississippi rule, you found what you were looking for.

A massive oak tree uprooted many, many, years ago, and taking a pit mound with it, had left a divot in the earth and some animal, a lone fox perhaps, had dug it out for a den. There was no time for debate, you expected to hear the whir of the drone at any moment so quickly you crawled into the dugout space and pressed yourself against the exposed roots of the tree.

If the drone had thermal capabilities the spot was useless but if not it’d more than likely fly right by without spotting you. The latter turned out to be true as moments later you heard it whiz by, its flight undisturbed as it scanned the forest further out, it wasn’t much later you began to hear him, following close behind.

This was your opportunity. You waited for him to pass and when you couldn’t hear him any longer you climbed out of the earth and headed north. You made great time, full on sprinting as you tore through the forest. There was no use in trying to sneak, he’d realize soon enough that something was up and change directions.

But soon you heard the distant whir of the blades again, faint but nearing. You had a decision to make, hide again or try and out run it. The forest before you was bare, the brush light and the trees still standing to your dismay. You thought about turning back for the compound, it’d be the last place he’d expect you to head for but before you could you heard the drone overhead. It had found you and without much choice you took off north once again.

You knew it was your last chance for freedom so you barreled forth on legs already tired and worn. You had just made it into a small clearing when he pounced on you, totally sideswiping your body and you tumbled into the circle of pine straw and fallen oak shed rolling over top of each other until you came to a stop straddling him.

You lay there, a mass of panting limbs and it’s not until he’s relatively caught his breath that he realizes you're above him. He’s wary, it’s the unfamiliar cat feeling all over again, except this time the feline has climbed into his lap and he’s not sure whether you’ll simply claw his eyes out or sit and make biscuits. He gets his answer when your hips roll down over him, just an innocent shift of position as you try to readjust that turns into an inadvertent grind against the firm plane of his abdomen. You let out a groan you can’t contain in sinful bliss at the movement and it makes his lips press thin behind his mask, a groan of his own just barely stifled in his throat.

The sensation is exquisite, having been left so abruptly wanting after your recapture and the subsequent consequences you can’t help yourself. But you stop when your brain catches up to your nerve endings and you realize what you’re doing. You go to rise up off of him, embarrassed and a bit appalled at yourself when his hands snap to your hips and you both freeze.

You’re at a standstill, unsure what comes next and he makes the first move, pulling you back by your hips until you’ve moved off of his stomach and yanked you down over his hips, the prominent bulge in his tac pants unmistakable as you slide over it, both of your breaths hitching at the delicious friction.

What comes next is an exchange, a silent pivotal moment communicated solely through subtle touches fueled by mutual desire. It’s hesitant but quick, meaningful but rushed and what it comes to is you rising up off of him to pry at your clothes. It takes him no time to free himself from his confines and when he looks up and you’re still struggling with the god forsaken jumpsuit he motions you back to him. “Let me help.”

You stoop down but as he pulls a wicked looking blade from its sheath on his belt you instinctively pull away only for him to hold you fast. “Stay still and trust.”

He waits as you calm and still for him before he expertly slices a slit in the crotch of your suit. You give him an exasperated look and it makes him chuckle. “It was taking too long, I’ll have them make you a new one.” With the deed done there’s no use in arguing with him so instead you mount him again, grinding against him once more. Your fingers find purchase against him as fists, one balling up in the fabric of his cape, the other looping around the strap of his vest as the skin to skin contact has you keening against him.

He’s had enough teasing and rifles the length of him through the slick lips of your sex, collecting your wetness on the tip and lining himself up before you can change your mind. You have no such second guesses as you drop down onto his length in fact there isn’t much thought going on at all, just primal need. You keep your grip on him as you begin to fuck yourself.

He lets you use him, it’s the first contact of any kind you’ve initiated and he’ll let it run its course, reaping the benefits. His hands never leave your hips as his head drops back, trading the view of where you’re joined for one concentrated on your face and all your varying expressions. Watching your mouth part slightly as you take what was so cruelly denied. You pick up speed, eyes squeezing shut as your vision blurs around the edges, your head tipping back skyward as you ride him for all he’s worth.

His hands explore you, reaching up to cup a supple breast and he wishes to god he’d either had the patience to let you strip or had just cut the whole damn thing off you because you’re still wearing too many god damn clothes for his liking. He wants nothing more than to plant his boots in the dirt and lift you up by the hips, drive into you from below until your eyes roll back but he knows you need this. If you’re to let go of your hesitancy it’s best to be done on your terms. That doesn't mean once you’ve had your fill it’d be over, but he’s a patient man.

The sound of the wind rustling through the leaves of the trees is joined in harmony by your soft pleasured sighs and he’s never heard a more beautiful song. Your eyes open and you know what you’re doing is wrong. You glance down, the mere sight of him beneath you makes the alarm bells ring in your head but it also makes you that much wetter, knowing it’s him you’re keening for. It’s wrong but that doesn’t ease the ecstasy of it from coursing through your veins, collecting in a pit of pleasure that pools deep in your belly.

The last of your resolve makes your hips momentarily falter. “Uh uh. Don’t you dare stop.” You go to turn your head from him when one gloved hand releases the grip on your hip to lift up and grab your chin so you’re unable. “Look at me, sweetheart.” Your cheeks heat but you obey, your eyes flitting to the dark lenses of his mask. “‘Atta girl. That’s it, just like that.” As the honeyed poison he speaks begins to ferment you, the simple instinct driven part of your brain takes over, melting at the praise of a proven superior.

You moan at his words and he feels their effects as you tighten around him. “Does it feel good, sugar cane? Hmm?” You’re beyond words, knowing if you tried to speak all the would come out would be unintelligible babbles so you just nod your head frantically, it’s the best you can do.

He keeps a grip on your chin, keeping you trained on him as his other hand palms the swell of your hip, guiding you back into a steady rhythm, one that has you squeezing down around him and a low moan bubbling up in your chest and it’s clear you’re not going to last very long. Your fists tighten into white knuckled grips as your hips cant against his, speeding up as your climax draws near. He can feel you getting closer, his own hips bucking up to greet yours as you slam down onto him with each thrust.

“Come on sugar cane. Let me feel you come for me. Take what you need.” Your pleasure reaches a head, your walls spasming around him as you cry out your pleasure to the canopies above. Your face at this moment is a portrait of desire and he burns the image of it into his mind's eye, committing it to memory as you ride it out above him.

Just as you stop shaking, not even giving you time to recover he pulls out and deftly flips you, pushing you down on your stomach and pushing your knees up beneath you. With your ass raised up high and the length of your right forearm the only thing keeping your cheek from pressing into the dirt he resheaths himself inside you. You howl at the intensity of it, barely sliding off from the hill of your orgasm before he begins the hurried ascent to the next one.

“Deimos!” He growls above you, the sound of his name on your lips only spurring him on. He pulls your hips back into his, relishing his gain of control and chasing the pull of his own release. Your hands clench and unclench against the earth, scratching through the duff and leaves until the rich topsoil cakes under your nails. It’s the last thing on your mind as he fucks you senseless in the midst of the forest.

He knows he’s close, can feel his balls beginning to tighten as they slap against your clit with each thrust. He can tell you’re faring about as well as you push back into him, mewls reaching a heightened pitch as you barrel towards your second release and your lips begin to loosen as you careen towards the edge.

“Oh fuck! Don’t stop! Please!” You begging him for release is all it takes, his last few thrusts quick and sloppy as he feels you clench around him for a second time as he empties himself inside of you. His hips jut up against yours, pushing in as far as he can go and stilling against you there. Both of you breathing in heavy tandem.

After several moments he pulls out of you unceremoniously and puts himself away before standing. You look up to see him, hand outstretched to help you up off the ground. You take it, and now that the heated pleasure has subsided the wake of regret rises to take its place and you find it hard to look him in the face. He must have trouble finding the right words to say, keenly aware that you’re a bit fragile at the moment and worried that the wrong words could have destructive results so the walk back towards base is a quiet one.

He leads you back to the compound and shuttles you into the kennel while he goes and finds you a change of clothes. Before he leaves he finds it in him to speak. “While I’m gone will you do me a favor?” It wasn’t exactly what you were expecting him to say but it felt like a better option than discussing things between you. “Sure, what is it?”

“Can you feed them for me? There’s a bin at the back with their food and a scoop, the bowls are on a little table next to it. Two scoops for each.” You look towards the back and spot the bin before turning back to him.

“Yeah, sure.” He nods and leaves and you make your way through the aisle and toward the back of the building. Everything is as he said and after separating the bowls out and dishing two scoops of food into each you start at the back and work towards the front. The dogs are well trained and back away from the door while you enter. Sitting patiently as their tails give away their true excitement, thumping against the green AstroTurf floor in an unmeasured staccato.

You set the bowls down and step away before each dog rises and goes to eat. Careful to latch each door shut behind you, you make quick work of it and soon enough you’re setting the last bowl down in Clover’s pin. Unlike the other dogs she noses around your legs while you place her bowl on the floor and goes right to eating as soon as it’s lowered enough for her snout to reach. You can’t help but rub her sides while she digs in and you don’t even notice his return until he clears his throat outside her door.

“All done.” You say as you step through and latch it tight behind you. He hands you your clothes, another old set of fatigues instead of a new jumpsuit and points you in the direction of the bathroom so you can change. You can’t shake the feeling there’s been some kind of shift between you and this is only proven further as you head for the bathroom and he doesn’t follow after you. You shut the door and turn on the tap, splashing water up on your face and staring up at your reflection in the mirror. You don’t know what this means, afraid to think about what kind of line you’ve crossed without even really knowing it but something is different.

When you’d washed up and changed you found him again and you both left the kennel, completely different people than when you’d entered.

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

A question of loyalty: an analysis of two perspectives in season 1

The past few years, I have loved rewatching season 1 with the context of the finale, because it has been so interesting to really see things from Crosshair's perspective.

Our first hint that maybe Crosshair's motives aren't what we first thought:

Hunter's (and our) perspectives on the issue are further challenged:

And then we reach the ultimate accusation:

So, let's take a look at both sides.

POINT #1: "Crosshair was the one who kept attacking the squad! How could he POSSIBLY accuse the squad of betraying him??"

COUNTERPOINT: Because from his perspective, they had. We as the audience know the whole plan was for the squad to get Crosshair back after they escaped the brig on Kamino - in fact, Hunter was prepping to go back for Crosshair at the same time Crosshair was coming for them - but Crosshair doesn't know that. He had been arguing with his squad ever since Order 66, trying to get them to understand how important it was for them to follow orders, and they had yet another disagreement right before he was singled out. His inhibitor chip gets intensified, he gets sent after his brothers (as if Tarkin needed to do anything else to thoroughly disgust me...), and he finds them in the hangar prepping the Marauder to leave. (Just to reiterate: from Crosshair's perspective, he had recently been arguing with his brothers, and now he finds them readying to leave.) Hunter never tells him that they were coming back for him; instead, they engage in some back-and-forth about surrendering and following orders before the shooting begins.

Having left him on that note, it would be all too easy for Crosshair to work himself up over the perceived abandonment - especially if he started feeling any sort of regret over his actions toward his squad (finding a way to blame the other party is, after all, a common defense mechanism).

And every time they cross paths thereafter, instead of his brothers apologizing or listening or trying to come with him, they keep running away from him after arguing with him about how he's being controlled and forced to obey orders. I can't help but imagine that any mention of "programming" only served to stoke Crosshair's ornery side: he and his squad are "superior," after all; he can't be controlled, he is being a good soldier and following orders because HE chose to, not because of some stupid chip. (Cue Crosshair claiming it "doesn't matter" when he got his chip removed: his ideology remains the same, thank you very much.)

And so, from Crosshair's standpoint: his brothers abandoned him, they won't even talk to him except to try to convince him he's wrong about everything, and they're ruining any chance they have of finding "purpose" by remaining soldiers and serving the Empire.

POINT #2: "Hunter and the others didn't try hard enough to get Crosshair back - actually, they didn't try at all."

COUNTERPOINT: I think we overestimate just how much time passed between the Batch escaping Kamino and the events on Bracca (unless the squad was just hanging around in open space for weeks at a time, which I doubt). Consider how quickly events occur in the first eight episodes:

The squad narrowly escapes Kamino

They try to lay low at Cut and Suu's, but that lasts maybe two days before they are on the run again

The Marauder crashes

It's necessary to find a way to scramble the ship's signature, so they have to make a quick landing on Pantora

Enter Fennec

Well, now they have to find out why a bounty hunter is after Omega

Enter Cid

Cid pretty much immediately starts blackmailing them

They have to do another job for Cid - we don't know exactly how much time passed, but Cid doesn't seem to be one to wait to order the Bad Batch around, especially as this next job reasserts her claim on them.

Rex reappears - we don't know exactly how much time passed here, either, but I would guess Rex sought them out as soon as he was tipped off about them.

(Lest anyone think Tech must have just given up on the chip scanner after the Marauder crashed, remember that he needed comparative data in order to properly use the scanner. I can only imagine how much it must have eaten at Tech to not have any way of finding a source with the necessary data to complete the scanner - especially considering everything else going on - until Rex miraculously showed up.)

So, until reuniting on Bracca, there is precious little time or opportunity for the squad to formulate a plan to get Crosshair back... And then Bracca happens. Here, they are confronted by Crosshair, who responds to genuine pleas to reconsider his stance by hitting them where it hurts: "Aim for the kid." Crosshair then sets things up to literally incinerate them, and they barely make it out alive before being attacked by Cad Bane.

Now, they had seen what the chip had done to Wrecker, true; but Wrecker had previously acknowledged that he understood the chip existed and was willing to have it removed, AND it was squad+Rex against Wrecker (and even then they barely managed to subdue him). Crosshair refused to acknowledge even the possibility of a chip influencing his actions, obviously wasn't willing to have it removed at that point, had never shown any inclination of wanting to rejoin them, and squad+Rex against Crosshair+vast Imperial resources would have been suicide - ESPECIALLY since Crosshair proves time and again that he can predict their moves. There's no way around that.

So what does the squad decide to do? They run. They can't take Crosshair with them, but they aren't going to try to kill him either.

Crosshair remains too well protected for the squad to go after him, but we can see on Hunter's face as the squad leaves Ryloth after peripherally tangling with Crosshair that the situation REALLY doesn't sit well with Hunter.

And yet... WHAT ELSE CAN THEY DO?

So, from Hunter+squad's perspective: as far as they are aware, Crosshair is refusing all offers of help, and trying to go after Crosshair would be suicide. Crosshair can't be rescued if the squad is all dead.

An impasse, then.

ANOTHER FACTOR TO CONSIDER:

But the accusation of disloyalty goes far beyond Crosshair believing the squad left him behind; he sees disloyalty in the fact that they apparently don't share the same views. It's not just a conversation about why/how Crosshair was left behind; it's also an argument over ideology, as Hunter tries to point out the Empire's flaws while Crosshair is determined to remain a soldier with the one purpose he has always known.

And then we reach the climactic revelation: Hunter is trying to convince Crosshair that maybe his views are being controlled by the chip - only for Crosshair to tell Hunter he already knows about it and the chip is gone, AND he won't even tell Hunter when it happened. We can make educated guesses as to when Crosshair's chip was removed, but Hunter has been spending all this time trying to keep everyone else on the squad safe from a fellow brother who is being controlled by an inhibitor chip... only to find out that maybe Crosshair was acting of his own volition for who knows how long. This, I believe, is the point where Hunter started to consider Crosshair as having actually betrayed the Batch.

And no matter when the chip was removed, Crosshair is still convinced that the Empire is the right side, and believes that anyone who won't join the Empire is against him.

So, before the confrontation on Kamino: Crosshair is convinced the squad has abandoned him. Hunter and the squad can't feasibly do anything about it.

During the confrontation on Kamino, we learn that unless the squad is willing to join Crosshair and the Empire, he's going to continue to believe they have disowned him. And the squad will not join the Empire, much as they love Crosshair.

CONCLUSION: Crosshair's and Hunter's perspectives are both equally valid, especially based on what they know and later learn of the other's stance. Hunter rightly points out that wanting different things doesn't mean they have to be enemies; but as long as the rest of the squad members aren't willing to support tyranny enforce order, Crosshair will consider them disloyal to him, since they are opposed to the views he stands by, the views that - at that moment - define him. It will take other perspectives, outside the squad, to shift Crosshair's views (but that's the topic of another essay 😉). In the meantime, having finally had the chance to hear the other's side - even if they don't agree - Crosshair and the Bad Batch separate on at least marginally civil - if strained - terms... Though both still consider the other to be guilty of betraying the ideals of Clone Force 99.

[subskz]

i like most to least rankings so i’d like to hear your thoughts on these:

most to least bratty member?

most to least masochistic member?

most to least to enjoy rough bdsm sex over soft sex?

sure! ^_^

bratty:

lino

seungmin (i think he’d be a good boy most of the time, but the reason he’s so high up is bc when he’s bratty, he’s most definitely the most difficult and stubborn of the boys…even worse than lino bc i think he’d be a bit harder to break 😭 he has a lot of patience! but he’s not always confident enough to be a tease w you so i think he’d usually be pretty well behaved, for all his teasing he can still be quite shy after all~)

hyunjin (like seungmo i think he’d be good for you most of the time, but he can also be sooo spoiled n smart mouthed. if he feels like he isn’t getting enough attention or affection he’ll pull out all the stops: mimicking u, teasing u, rolling his eyes, huffing, snide remarks, making a big show of lil things like stretching to expose his skin or licking up food from the corner of his pretty lips so you’ll notice him…luckily he’s very easy to break once he gets that attention hehe he’ll be whining out apologies n begging for mercy in no time)

jisung

jeongin (the perfect equilibrium of sweet eager puppyboy who wants to do well and hear your praises, and fussy, sharp-tongued catboy who’s too shy to admit what he wants <3 i think he’d get bratty as a way to play hard to get bc looking too eager and actually having to admit what he wants makes him super embarrassed…but at the end of the day innie is a bit of a pleaser n he cant mouth off too much without taking it back once he sees ur reaction)

felix

chan (definitely has his moments…but i think when he’s bratty it’s mostly playful teasing that he can’t keep up for too long without breaking into giggles…it’s more endearing than anything else <3 unless he really wants a reaction out of u…we all know channie is good at saying very out of pocket things then backing down immediatey after heh)

binnie (the ULTIMATE good boy!!! very whiny but rarely bratty)

masochistic:

hyunjin

jisung (hannie can be kinda sensitive so he may not be into the degradation/humiliation aspect as much…if ur degrading him you have to be physically treating him gently, and if you’re inflicting pain on him u have to be praising him through it all for taking it so well! or calling him a good slut, pretty whore, stuff like that. he likes it when it’s one or the other, but i think both degradation + rough treatment at the same time would be too much for him)

seungmin (he likes physical aspect of it more than verbal…lest we forget “it’s more fun to get hit than attack” hehe. i think he can handle degradation/humiliating acts sometimes but he does get self-conscious, so getting him to really relax into it might be a challenge. when it comes to pain though…i think he’d like testing his limits. him, lino, n hyunjin seem like the type to smile at you after getting their face slapped 💓)

chan

felix

lino (he’d never admit it but i think he wouldn’t endure pain as well as lix might…even when he holds it in quietly it doesnt take long for him to run out of tolernace and start writhing n squirming around, whining abt how mean you’re being </3 i think he’d like that mix of degradation/praise though…calling him pretty n filthy in the same breath, wrapping your hands around his throat n murmuring abt how well he’s taking you, stuff like that!)

jeongin

binnie (our big boy…he is so bad at handling pain he always thinks he can take it then crumbles after just a few slaps or flogs. and i think his poor leo heart wouldnt always be able to take it if u were too mean to him…if you do degrade him expect a lot of whining and you’d better be ready w lots of praise to make up for it after!! but he is into lighter forms of pain like biting/marking)

rough bdsm (this one varies a lot bc i think it’d really depend on the day and the type of mood they’re in!)

hyunjin

lino (curious kitty #1…he’s softer than u think and some days he would much rather be spoiled rotten!! but he still loves the thrill of rougher scenes and would definitely want to try all kinds of toys and kinks and at least once…he’s very intense n passsionate underneath all that playfulness after all~ it’s important to him to be able to trust u w complete control over his pain n pleasure)

felix (curious kitty #2…i think he’d really like being babied and taken care of but when he wants it rough he wants it rough! he wants to be crying and shaking and covered in marks n bruises by the end of it so he can admire them for days to come afterwards n blush over the memories associated w them <3 smth abt trying to be so good for u even when ur being so mean to him just excited him like nothing else, as long as u scoop him up and treat him so sweetly afterwards 💗)

jisung

chan (as much of a soft sub i see channie as, he’s still more than willing to give anything a try for you <3 i think most of the time what he needs is to just be taken care of so gently n sweetly after a long day, but on certain days he wants nothing more than to forget his own name, surrender every bit of control and make himself useful to you, whatever it might entail he’ll be so good through it all!)

jeongin

seungmin (weirdly enough seungmo is high on the brat/masochist scale but not on the bdsm…but i personally think that while he’d be into harder elements like painplay/breathplay etc. he might be a lil more vanilla when it comes to restraints/toys/extreme kinks etc if that makes sense. i think he’d rather keep things simple without getting a bunch of contraptions involved hehe the most he’d probably be into is a collar or smth along those lines! i think he’d just prefer the intimacy of you n him without making things too complicated)

binnie (clearly my softness for binnie is showing in these answers LMAO sorry but him being so low doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be into it at all! i just think he’d often prefer softer scenes where he gets to obey you without any high stakes or super intense play involved, simply bc he wants to be good for you and get showered w lots of praise n affection in the process! i can definitely see him being very into bondage though, shibari that accentuates his big gorgeous muscles and has him at ur mercy to use him however u see fit!)

[codenamesazanka]

absolutely insane to me that Deku went and saved Shigaraki without a single thought about him and his situation. and it was justified. I know it's supposed to be brave and heroic and admirable, that he just ran head first into 'wanting to save that crying child', and in some ways it is, but it just. weird how we barely get any reflection or inner thoughts about it from him.

it's not like he was facing any strong opposition to saving Shigaraki - no questions of 'but shigaraki is dangerous, is this the moral thing to do, does he deserve this, why focus on him and no one else, why do you feel so strongly about this, if you hadn't seen that crying child then what?', so it wasn't even like he was shrugging off those hard answers. Ignoring naysayers and obstacles. Powering through with an iron will. Didn't need to address it! 'I wanna save that crying child'.

Even Shigaraki asks him, via the memories of Stain and Overhaul and ReDestro. But Deku just says 'no!' and that's that.

Ultimately the answer we get is 'he just wants to relieve Shigaraki's pain, he believes everyone has the same hearts'... but that motivation doesn't even come from him in the form of a shonen protag shout proclamation. Someone else has to do it for him?????

And that reasoning is nice and all! but it's so easy to bring up examples like Muscular, or AFO, and wonder if he thinks they have the same heart too, and wouldn't he want to help them as well? And because like I said above, he's never challenged on this, he never elaborates on why he might save Shigaraki but not Muscular, it makes the 'same heart' creed vague. it makes it feels like either some people actually don't have the same hearts because they're innately evil, or he needs to see them cry before he wants to help. or, idk, they did stuff so evil their hearts doesn't matter any more. Shigaraki did that too, evil stuff, but what separates Shigaraki from them is The Crying Child. And so good thing AFO has never shed real tears even as a baby (because he's innately evil).

admittedly it's really only when the societal angle was at play in Shigaraki Tomura's development that those questions are relevant, so now that it's revealed AFO plotted everything, none of that really matters. Questions of what is deserved, whether it's right to save this guy who wants to annihilate entire islands, if he even should be paying attention to villains - all rendered irrelevant. AFO was behind all of Shigaraki's actions, so the questions can't be applied to him, he was a puppet victim, so Deku was right to want to save him.

head empty, only 'save shigaraki'. and then—'head empty' justified, because none of the issues surrounding Shigaraki was real; 'head empty' justified, because things like 'what creates victims? what turns them into villains? why are they doing what they're doing' doesn't matter. AFO was behind it all.

Yeah, yeah, I know other people that addressed the non-AfO-caused issues. But that's the thing. other heroes addressed it. Not Deku. Shouldn't he have been part of addressing it, since he wants to be the greatest hero??? Oh, but maybe it's better if he doesn't, because then he won't be a pillar? the work is shared?

idk. Just doesn't work for me. must be working for other people though, and I'm jealous.

also. this all makes moments like at the mall and Jaku, where Shigaraki was essentially point blank giving away his damage - All Might smiling like there's no one he can't save, Heroes sweep pain under the rug - terrible in retrospect cuz like. he just ignored Shigaraki. You might say that what Shigaraki said was too vague for Deku to make out, but it's really not. literally, "All Might smiles because he thinks there's no one he can't save" is just overflowing with resentment, and in Jaku Shigaraki looked like this:

beseeching to the heavens.

It's not quite that Deku sees pain and wants to relieve it in general, else he would've wanted to help Shigaraki from the start. It has to be in the form of someone super sympathetic. the crying child.

I guess I have to hand it to him that once he finally does feel sympathy, Deku will stop at nothing to want to save.

I just think that's a terrible pre-requisite.

[makemeactup]

John Lennon x Reader - Calendar

Summary: As their PA, you need to know what they're doing over a free weekend. The only one proving difficult is John — who has a surprise.

A/N: a longer one! Enjoy! Requested by @kuroihinawari!

---

Your job was simple. You filled in paperwork, made sure paperwork made it to the band, was signed, and returned promptly. You got them drinks and food when they were recording or waiting for an interview. You even, on the odd occasion, did their laundry. But that wasn't strictly part of your job description.

So, you wondered, why John Lennon had to make your workday as difficult as possible.

If you needed him to sign something, he was nowhere to be found, or he'd argue that he'd already signed it. When he denied a drink or food and you got everyone else something, he'd suddenly ask for some, causing you to have to go back and forth. You had realised that if he wasn't so attractive, you'd have gone mad by now.

It's not like he was never nice to you, though. In fact, you found him to be so incredibly charming and funny that he regularly had your cheeks aching from smiling. Sometimes, when you'd walk in to the room, he'd compliment you and your face would flush. You even received a few small gifts from him, usually for your birthday or after an event of some kind.

But that didn't stop John being... John.

A rare weekend off was coming up, and you had been asked to find out their plans. Ringo had very happily told you that he was staying home, George the same, and Paul said he was going to visit family with the wife. All of these interactions were pleasant, and you left them with a smile on your face.

But John? Not so much. When you asked the first time, he'd told you he was too busy. So, you left and told him you'd ask again later. Which is what you did, scouring the halls to find the elusive man. Ultimately, you found him tucked away in an office space.

You knocked on the door, waiting until he looked up and acknowledged you to enter.

"Hello, Mr. Lennon," You greeted, chirpy as ever in his eyes. For you, it was rather strained. It wasn't because of fear, but rather nerves. He just made youa little nervous.

"Hello," He greeted, cigarette meeting his lips so that he could take a drag. "You've found me, then."

"You didn't make it easy," You lightly joked, and you eased at the smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm just wondering what you're doing over the weekend?"

John peered at you through the circular lenses of his glasses, brows ever so slightly knitted together. It was the beginnings of John's annoyance, you figured. His lingering smile said otherwise.

"What are you doing this weekend?" He challenged, eyeing you expectantly.

That caught you off guard. Nobody had asked you yet, and the thought of the depressing weekend coming up was almost soul crushing. It was your birthday. You had no plans, and nobody to spend it with. Honestly, it embarrassed you greatly to have to admit to one of the most famous men in the world that you were alone on such a day.

"It's my birthday," You answered simply.

"Party then?"

"No. I'll be on... on my own, Mr. Lennon," You spoke so quietly, you wondered if he'd heard you.

But he did, and his brows arched and eyes briefly grew wide. His eyes lapped you up from head to toe, as if deciphering if you were being genuine. Upon realising that, yes, you were, his head tilted. And you swore you wanted to sink into the carpet the moment a hint of pity filled his gaze.

"How come?"

"I think it's pretty self explanatory," You gave a pathetic laugh, trying to play it off. "I don't have anyone to celebrate with."

John grew quiet then, eyes fixating onto the cigarette in his hand. The air grew thick with something other than pity, borderline suffocating. It was heavy, weighed you down like you were wearing metal shoes. You felt unable to move, unsure if whatever the silence was filled with was worth ruining.

But you had to. It was your job, after all.

"So, what's your plans, Mr. Lennon?"

"Come back to me," He dismissed once again, offering a smile unlike the last time he'd dismissed you earlier that day. "I promise I'll have it then."

"Okay. I'll see you later then, Mr. Lennon—"

"—John. You can call me John, love."

Your cheeks grew warm, the telltale sign of your blush as your lips tried to part into a grin. But you willed your body to calm down, that you should be used to this by now.

"I'll speak to you later, John."

"I'll be seeing you later," He nodded, watching as you left.

The rest of the day was uneventful; Ringo lost his sunglasses, so you scoured the dressing room to find them, Paul couldn't find his spare guitar strings, and George... George was fine, actually. Polite as always. But John was quieter than usual, a fact commented on by his bandmates and noticed in the lack of voices.

You thought very little of it, popping in and out to do your duties. You were passing time, watching the clock until the end of the day.

The moment the clock struck, you were on the prowl for John. Nobody knew where he was, and you were very quickly at your wit's end. Eventually, after your fifth circle of the building, you decided to just ask tomorrow. It was cutting it fine, really, but better then than never, right?

You collected your things, bid farewell to your colleagues (the boys included), and headed out to your car. You searched for your pack of cigarettes as you walked out of the main door, retrieving one to slip between your lips. As you looked up, your brows furrowed at the mass leaning against your car.

As you came nearer, you recognised the shadow as John. With a cigarette on the go and smile wide, he offered a flame out to you before you could question him. Offering a thankful smile of your own, you allowed him to light you up.

"I was looking for you, you know," You announced finally, hesitantly meeting his gaze.

And when you did, you swore your heart stopped. He was piercing into you, swallowing you whole. If not for your denial of anything happening between you two, you would've swore there was desire in his eyes.

He gasped at your words, a hand raising to cover his mouth. "Have I been a bad boy?"

"No," You giggled. You swore you never giggled until you met John. "It's about your plans for the weekend."

"Well, (Y/N), that depends," John said it so casually that you almost missed what he said. You watched with furrowed brows as he took a final drag of his cigarette and dropped it to the floor.

"On?" You felt stupid to ask, thinking you were walking into another mischievous John joke.

"If I can join you for your birthday."

He flashed teeth as he watched your expression cycle through many; surprised, confused, happy, and ending with cautious.

"Excuse me, John?" You managed without stuttering, heart pounding loud in your ears and making you struggle for breath.

"Well, I was wondering if I'd be able t' join you for your birthday," He reiterated, speaking a little clearer to gently make fun.

"...why? I'm sure you've got better things to be doing," You dropped your cigarette, not wanting it anymore, and instead began playing with your fingers. A nervous habit that John noticed right away.

"To be honest with you, I have no plans for the weekend. And seeing as it's your birthday, I thought I'd make a plan with you," His smile turned a little bit softer, more genuine. "Two attractive people, some tea, and a nice evening to finish it off."

All you got from that was the fact he had called you attractive. John Lennon thought that you were attractive. A part of you wanted to dance, or scream, or do something. But all you could do was stand there, blushing, eyes wide.

"You think I'm attractive?"

Why did you ask that? Your entire internal self was cringing into itself. You watched as he gave a short laugh and a nod, reaching out to take your hand in his.

"I think you're stunnin'," He bought your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the back. "And I'd love to spend your birthday with you."

"Yeah... yeah, okay," You nodded, cradling your hand to your chest when he let go. You gave him a warming smile, one that had his heart stopping this time. "I'll give you my address tomorrow, if you'd like?"

"Sounds good t' me!" He pushed off of your car, approaching you with a smirk. He leaned in, and your heart skipped a beat as you thought he'd kiss you, but instead his lips found your ear, "I've been waiting to spend some time with you."

And with that, he bid you farewell and began walking over to his car. It was only after a cool breeze hit you did you spin on your heels to face him again.

"John!" You called out, making him turn to you as well. "I think you're attractive, too!"

John offered a wave, walking backwards, "I know!"

[liaromancewriter]

It Happened One Miami Night (3/?)

Series Premise: A work trip to Miami means finally accepting that some risks are worth taking. Or are they?

Fandom: Choices Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff Words: 1,430

Series Masterlist

A/N: I live! Seriously, though, I've been really sick the last few days; today's the first day I've actually felt like writing. I also don't know where I'm going with this series except for this idea of filling in blanks for moments we didn't see. Pray that I figure it out before I start rambling.

Submission for @choicesaprilchallenge24; dialogue prompt "come on, it'll be fun"

She might have been invited (ordered, more like) under false pretenses, but that didn’t mean she was wasting this opportunity. Still in awe of hearing medical greats in person, Cassie Valentine put her hands together for the chorus of applause that followed Dr. Hadley’s fireside chat.

Ethan Ramsey, the epitome of medical excellence, was Cassie’s ultimate inspiration. Yet, Rebecca Hadley, with her profound knowledge and charisma, was a close second in Cassie’s admiration.

Cassie's eyes darted hopefully towards the front as the room began to clear. Her heart sank at seeing the long queue of Dr. Hadley’s admirers. Disappointment washed over her, but she was determined not to let this opportunity slip away. However, the organizers pulled Dr. Hadley away before she could step forward.

Cassie checked the event schedule on the conference app and figured she had enough time to grab some swag for Elijah before the next session. She still hadn’t heard from Ethan.

No! She wasn’t going to think about him. This time was for her.

Ethan was her attending, that’s it. No, he wasn’t Ethan. He was Dr. Ramsey. Cassie repeated this to herself, a mantra reminding her of her resolution to move on and break the spell he’d cast on her.

She thought this weekend was already proving challenging, recalling their conversation after the Nash debacle. They hadn’t even been to their suite yet or figured out how they were going to spend two nights in close quarters. Would he casually dismiss her from his presence then, too?

Shaking off the anxiety, she entered the exhibit hall and made a beeline for the first table. They gave out branded pens; they were nothing special, but her friend wasn’t picky. Besides, Elijah lost at least two pens daily and would use them all.

With her tote bag bulging, she was halfway down this row when she spied a booth handing out frisbees. She sped up, grabbing the last one as someone reached for it. Cassie turned sideways and found herself in a tug-of-war with another attendee.

“I was here first,” she tugged the plastic disk a little too forcefully.

“Debatable.” The man grinned charmingly before letting go. “But my mother raised a gentleman,” he glanced at her lanyard, “Cassie.”

“Thanks,” she stared at the name tag in her line of sight, “Evan. My compliments to your mother.”

“Wait till I tell her how her lessons on manners led me to my future wife.” The twinkle in his eyes told her he was joking.

“Wow, you’re easy,” Cassie quipped. “Beat a guy at the Swag Olympics, and his true intentions come out.”

His lips twisted in a half smile, and he eyed her tote. “First conference?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Evan laughed. “First-timers always grab too much stuff. Then, you realize you can’t possibly take it home in your carry-on and start throwing out perfectly good swag.”

That made her pause. The space in her luggage was indeed limited. Still, she promised Elijah goodies, and she would deliver them.

“It’ll be okay,” she shrugged, unconcerned.

“I heard Panacea’s giving out briefcases,” Evan said, stepping closer, just at the edge of her personal space. “I was just heading there.”

Cassie caught the unspoken invitation in his voice and the interested look in his eyes as he peered intently at her. She started to decline, not wanting another run-in with Declan Nash, when their phones pinged.

“Oh wow, I don’t believe it,” Evan exclaimed, staring at his phone. “They just added Dr. Ramsey to a panel. It starts in twenty minutes.”

He glanced at her over his phone’s screen, his eyes filled with eager excitement. “He’s amazing. Man, what I’d do to work with him. I tried matching at Edenbrook last year, but their residency is super competitive.”

“I know,” Cassie said quietly, but Evan didn’t hear her as he continued talking.

“…got into Grady, so not a total loss. How about you?”

“Edenbrook. First year, internal medicine.”

Evan’s eyes widened. “Have you met Ramsey, then? What’s he like? Are rounds with him a masterclass in diagnostic excellence?”

Cassie wasn’t sure how to respond. Was she supposed to tell a stranger that she had not only met Ethan but fallen hard for him? That when he focused those laser blue eyes on her, she melted, heat pooling in her belly, fingers itching to touch him everywhere?

Ethan was a complicated man who hid his emotions behind an austere exterior. But when he let his guard down and let her in, she fell through a rabbit hole, knowing her life would never be the same again.

“Rounds with him are intense,” was all Cassie said, keeping her expression neutral.

Ten minutes later, she reluctantly followed Evan into the ballroom where Ethan’s session was taking place. Despite the last-minute announcement, the room was almost full, with just a few empty seats scattered around the room.

“See? I told you the room would be packed early,” he said, scanning the space.

They shoehorned their way to the center of the room, hopping over bags and feet to park themselves on two chairs in a row of theater seating. Cassie almost tripped over the ankles of a woman who wasn’t keen to let them pass, but Evan helped keep her upright.

Cassie’s heart skipped a beat when she saw Ethan’s tall figure standing off to the side of the raised dais. He must’ve gone to the suite, for he was now wearing a blazer over the black shirt and gray slacks from this morning.

He hadn’t noticed her, and she doubted he would, given the size of the crowd. Still, she slumped slightly in her seat, practically hiding behind the person seated in the row before her.

“What are you doing tonight?”

She turned to face Evan, her brow raised in confusion.

“A few of us are getting together later,” he explained hurriedly. “It’s nothing fancy—cheap booze, music, dancing on the beach.”

“I don’t know,” she hesitated. “I’m here with my attending. He might need me for work.”

“All night?” Evan asked skeptically. “He doesn’t seriously expect you to be on call all weekend? Give the old man the slip and join us.”

When she still looked doubtful, he insisted, “Come on, it’ll be fun. Give me your number. I’ll text you the details.”

Cassie scoffed. “What makes you think you’ve earned my number?”

“My eternal optimism?”

“Nice try,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m on the conference app. Ping me the deets there. No promises.”

The emcee called the room to attention, and the commotion around them died down, replaced by excited anticipation. He introduced the session topic and speakers, reading a brief bio for each panelist.

Despite her earlier intention, Cassie straightened in her seat, unable to look away as Ethan joined his fellow panelists on the stage. As soon as the applause subsided, the moderator smoothly jumped into the discussion, throwing Ethan the first question.

Sprawled in a deep armchair, he held the microphone close to his lips, punctuating his point with a wave of his hand. He spoke eloquently, captivating everyone in the audience and the panel.

Cassie envied his effortless confidence and hoped that one day, she would be as secure in her abilities as a doctor.

She noticed how relaxed Ethan was now compared to earlier. He was in his element now, and it showed. Unlike the uncertainty of the situation with Naveen, sharing his opinions on managing medical resources during large-scale emergencies was easy.

Evan tried to engage her in conversation, leaning too close for comfort, but she ignored him beyond a quick nod. She hadn’t reflected on this topic before but found the discussion and subject area fascinating.

Cassie thought she knew Ethan’s career well, being his biggest fan and all. But she had no idea he’d volunteered in disaster zones during his residency and fellowship. Was there anything the man hadn’t done in the ten short years since he became a doctor?

And was he just as good in bed as he appeared out of it? The naughty voice broke through her thoughts, making her blush.

Cassie surreptitiously scanned faces around her to make sure no one had noticed her face turning red (or the way her skin flushed from the neck down as her breath hitched). It was damn inconvenient.

Listening to Ethan being, well, Ethan, was clearly turning her on.

So much for her resolution. All Ethan had to do was talk passionately about medicine, and she was ready to kiss his breath away.

The weekend just got a whole lot more complicated.

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

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso

@mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16

@justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate