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aurae-rori · 15 days

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DR RATIO ANALYSIS

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT!

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, Oh No! and Are You Satisfied? are much too basic songs to analyze Dr. Ratio to! Just because he's a scholar doesn't mean that he has academic trauma!" WRONG! Before we start, I have been researching psychology for approximately six years and I plan to go into it professionally. HOWEVER, that said, I am NOT a professional (YET. One day I will be. Yay for Aurae!) so understand that everything I come to conclusions about has been analyzed with some personal judgement, personal interpretations, and this is just what I have concluded with the info that I have deconstructed from his brain. If you disagree, that's fine!

I will be pulling from my own experiences with being a "golden" and "gifted" child, as well as the experiences I've had speaking to other people who were those. I will also be pulling from my experiences of researching and seeing how people with superiority complexes work, as well as diving into how those work (from what I've seen, as well as how they conceal a lack of self-esteem).

OKAY, NOW THAT THAT LONG AHH DISCLAIMER IS OVER, ALLOW ME TO WORK MY PSYCH ENJOYER MAGIC! Let's deconstruct Dr. Ratio like a lego toy.

Let's start off with how Dr. Ratio presents himself. When you first meet him, he seems like a haughty, arrogant asshole. He likes to PRESENT himself as a stoic, superior scholar who is purely in it to win it, and I got total "*stares down at your tiny body and laughs at how you lack knowledge*" vibes at the very start, due to how he goes around calling people idiots all the time. However, he DOES lose the idgaf war, and we can very quickly see that he does care for other people, even if in his own, strange way. Dr Ratio presentation: An asshole. The reality?

His entire character is based around the idea of helping the masses. He wishes to spread knowledge through the cosmos and give people who didn't have access to it, access. He's a harsh teacher, and calling people 'idiots' is NOT the way to motivate them, but he's doing his best™.

Actually, no, I'm going to go full psych into this. Okay, so here starts the Dr. Ratio and my FATHER COMPARISONS. My father is a professor and he is often called a harsh grader by his students. However, I've spoken to him multiple times because I was curious - why is he so harsh and diligent with his grading system? The answer is - he wants them to actually learn. When he's grading, he gives them harsh marks because he wants them to know exactly where they messed up, and he's always willing to stay after hours to help students understand where they can't. My father also is an enjoyer of knowledge, and for as long as I've remembered, he has prioritized teaching me how to think critically. He wants me to be able to think for myself - and I think that's what Dr. Ratio wants, too. He wants for his students to be able to fully comprehend and absorb the information that he teaches, and although his methods are harsh, he genuinely wants to help. My father's like this too - he hates students that waste his time or aren't here because their hearts are in it. Dr. Ratio hates people who aren't taking their education seriously because knowledge is important. Knowledge is a tool, and to disregard it completely is lowkey kind of insulting - especially when there are people who weren't privileged enough to actually get it, so this isn't something that you should take for granted. Dr. Ratio despises people who take knowledge for granted.

Also, I disagree with the claims that say that Dr. Ratio hates the genius society. He shows open respect for them in his voice lines. Just check them if you need proof. Also, I'll delve into the idea of Aeons and recognition later.

Now that we’ve established that Dr. Ratio kins my dad, let’s let's tackle the 'stoic' allegations. He is LOSING the idgaf war. Like, really badly. He has a temper of a thousand suns and snaps at people frequently, despite his 'impassive' face, his tone holds a LOT of emotion. He seems to feel very deeply and has a shit ton of empathy for others - why else would he be dedicating his entire career to helping others? Of course, he doesn't express this in 'typical' ways of being openly kind - but it doesn't mean that he doesn't care for other people. In fact, he seems to be pretty good at putting himself in the shoes of others and understanding them - expressed in the 2.1 quest where he tells Aventurine to tell him if he can't hold on any longer. Also, he loses the IDGAF war because he is actively trying to help people who want to learn and trying to spread logic and knowledge across the cosmos to those who didn't have it before. Would a man who didn't GAF do that? No!

Now that we've covered his view on knowledge and the way that he presents himself, let's turn to the way that he SEES himself. Now, this is where we get into the nitty gritty of gifted child trauma & academic trauma as well as crippling expectations. It's literally explicitly said in his character stories that he sees himself as mediocre, and it's canon that he doesn't have a good view of himself. His self-esteem is down in the fucking trenches along with my sanity as I write this analysis. The reality is - being called a genius your whole life doesn't really make you feel better about yourself. I'd know. I was. In fact, it makes you feel fucking worse when you can't live up to an expectation. We all fail in life. It's part of being human. But when you're held to such high standards - idolized for your knowledge and the way that you're 'gifted' - the crash comes really fucking hard. Failure is inevitable, and when people who are held on that pedestal experience it, they take it really bad.

The reality is that nobody - not even geniuses - are perfect, but you grow up believing that you are. Then, when you fail for the first time, it all comes tumbling down. The first time I came home with a bad grade was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I hadn't studied because I was arrogant and I thought that I was smart enough to pass without putting any extra effort into it - because I was a 'gifted' child, right? I should've been able to do it without studying like the other kids. And that's the thing with gifted children – you grow reliant on that title. You cling onto it for dear life for motivation, as well as self-perception. Little by little, the person you are falls apart as you slave away to the perception other people have of you. I think basically every gifted child that I've ever spoken to is a victim of this – and of course, you can heal from this mindset - but it's a hard one to shake.

Ratio's way of presenting himself as being a 'genius' and 'arrogant' also seems to contradict the way that he calls himself 'mundane' at the same time. However, these are two mindsets that can coexist. One part of you believes that you are a genius and that you are perfect, while the other part is crumbling and calling yourself good-for-nothing every time you make a mistake. It's a tiring cycle to live in. This usually leads to people shutting themselves out and closing themselves off after living like that, pushing back your own feelings in favour of being the perfect child. However, we don't know the exact details of Dr. Ratio's childhood, but we can infer that he was held to a pedestal, and this is a very harmful mindset for a child to have.

His superiority complex comes both from how other people view him, but it's a way to cope with his crippling lack of self-esteem. I'm sorry my guy. Also helping others probably helps him feel like he's worth something and makes him feel better because he bases his entire worth off of what he can do and how he can help others. However, this is just my personal interpretation backed by what I have already deconstructed.

In general, this is an easy way to crush self-esteem. You spend your whole life working to meet the image of what other people think you are. In fact, another reason why Dr. Ratio might be so harsh is because that’s the kind of attitude he holds towards himself when conducting research – he’s as hard on himself as he is to others. You end up hating the idea of failure, instead of seeing it as it should be - a way to improve and grow. Actually, I think this could be a reason that he went out of his way to break that illusion of 'worshipping geniuses' in the Space Station. Maybe some sort of childhood connection? Personal connection? In his endeavour to spread more knowledge and make people think for themselves and not blindly follow geniuses, to wake them up and let them think for themselves - maybe, somewhere, in there, he's helping that little child that was almost dehumanized for his intelligence. TLDR: Conflicting mindsets due to trauma, brain vs heart almost - his knowledge that he is a genius vs the crippling lack of his self worth.

Now that we've established Dr. Ratio's self worth, let's take a look at the impact Aeons had on him. Nous, the Aeon of Knowledge itself. I think in a world where the Gods are real, tangible beings that you can reach out and talk to - it makes sense that someone with high ambition and someone who's been called a genius his whole life would seek the confirmation of Nous. When you're a man of knowledge, and you've spent your whole life working with it, being praised for it – it feels natural to look for a god to look down upon you and bless you, right? The Genius Society – it should house him, because he is a genius as well, right? Imagine this – you have been called a genius your whole life, held to that kind of pedestal for so long, and now you wait for the recognition of the Gods. Because if you truly are a genius – then surely, a higher being will recognize your intelligence, right?

The invitation never comes.

And then, comes the doubt.

What if I'm really not a genius? What if everything I've worked for is a lie? Aeons are beings that are 'absolute'. If the god of Knowledge won't accept you or even cast a glance upon you, does that mean that everything was wrong. Gods see more than humans, after all. Gods know more than humans - and that spiral... I think you can see if. (If you don't let me know. I will ramble about how a failure like that can make you spiral down into a worse mindset).

However, the reason why Ratio was never invited to the Genius Society is simple. It’s because he LOSES THE IDGAF WAR. Now, if we look at all the people we know who are in the Genius Society - we find one thing in common. They’re in it to win it for themselves. They don’t help others using the knowledge that they’ve gotten - they use it to pursue shit for themselves. The people of the Genius Society are inherently self-serving. They WIN the idgaf war. Ratio LOSES. Do we see now?

Ratio’s empathy is the reason why he wasn’t let in. He is too human. Nous is a computer. Herta is detached from people. Ruan Mei is literally looking at life as test subjects. Screwllum is a robot.

OUR DOCTOR MAN LOST THE IDGAF WAR, BECAUSE HE IS HUMAN AND FEELS FOR OTHERS!!!

Also, it’s a plausible theory that Nous’s definition of ‘genius’ is different from the human definition of ‘genius’ – it’s a computer, after all. Who knows what’s going on in that code head of its.

However, we still love you Ratio. Never stop losing the IDGAF war.

TLDR: Nous is a computer. It is also in it to win it. It is also self serving. It gazes upon the hoes who are here to win it for themselves. Ratio is busy serving the masses and cooking knowledge in his frying pan. To it, there is no logical reason to be doing this. Therefore, no reason to invite this guy to the Genius Society.

Ratio’s gifted child trauma says otherwise. He wants in. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been working his whole life as a genius.

Nous is like… nah bro, you care too much. Ratio is like, ‘what the fuck?’ And then the AEON OF KNOWLEDGE GOES FOR THE MILK.

Okay, now, quick shoutout to Ratio wanting to help others. He is just like me fr. SO BASICALLY, RECAP OF EVERYTHING I JUST SAID:

Ratio LOSES the idgaf war because he cares about other people. Spent his whole life as the golden egg, and then turns to the gods for recognition because of the inherent trauma of being a child genius. He goes, "hey bro, can you confirm that I am in fact a genius?" and Nous goes, "no, you are too busy cheffing for the masses." Ratio goes, "what the fuck?" and then we collectively realize his attitude comes from blocking off his feelings (while failing miserably), being salty about not being recognized, being put on a pedestal for his whole life, and his crippling depression *cough* lack of self worth *cough*.

Oh, and the "I will never be enough" thought train probably hits him every single day. He is not enough to be recognized by a God. Gods are superior to humans. Maybe nothing has worth after all. Hey, that's Nihility! Hi IX, let's hear what you have to say.

*muffled ix noises*

I see, I see.

The consensus is: HE'S TRAUMATIZED BY EXPECTATIONS! HE WILL PROBABLY SUFFER FROM BURNT OUT GIFTED CHILD IF HE HAS NOT ALREADY!

Okay, now, before I delve into song lyrics (and I KNOW this has been long, just bear with me) I want to talk a little bit (read: a lot) about his relationship with Aventurine. We all know that he cares about Aventurine in his own way. But I want to pull in another idea that I didn’t cover before:

Ratio’s fucking emotional constipation.

Basically, the reason why he has trouble connecting with others is because he was most likely alienated by others as a symptom of being called a genius and being put on a pedestal. This makes him seem unapproachable to his peers, most likely, and therefore, as a result, doesn’t know how to properly connect with others. This just makes his way of presenting affection and care to others even more challenging – because he just doesn’t know how to do it in a healthy and clear way. Academic trauma causing emotional problems, because he’s probably a little bit out of touch with his own. Processing? No! Research. Also, this is very important for understanding Ratio’s character in my opinion, because he’s just a little guy who doesn’t know how to articulate. Maybe he’s got a touch of the ‘tism. Tism mutuals, do we agree or disagree?

However, in comes Aventurine. Love Aventurine, but they are both emotionally constipated. Aventurine displays his affection in ways that Ratio probably only catches after re-analyzing their time together about five times. He’s also a very closed off individual – but Ratio knows this. A cute thing is that Ratio is patient where he needs to be, even if he’s generally a pretty hot-headed guy, and I’m like… bro… that letter… “I wish you the best of luck”... I will wait for you…. GAY ASS MAN…

Sorry the Aventio demons took over. Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is that they both have nonverbal communication with one another that they clearly decipher and Ratio obviously cares for him (he came back and almost jeopardized the plan just for the sake of his ‘coworker’... okay gayboy…) and they just have such a neat little dynamic… Aventurine lets Dr. Ratio do his thing… understands his emotional alienation to a degree…. they’re so neat….

Okay, Aventurine segment over. NOW, FINALLY, WE CAN GET TO THE SONG LYRICS!!! YAY!!!! We all cheered!!!

We are going to be here for two more amber eras, because I realized I actually want to analyze every single lyric from both of these songs. Brace yourself for like, 2k more words. Help.

I think it’s only proper that we start off with ‘Oh No!’ the song that has haunted me since my childhood.

“Don’t do love, don’t do friends

I’m only after success

Don’t need a relationship

I’ll never soften my grip”

Remember when I mentioned that alienation was a big part of Ratio lore? Yeah, that manifests itself in this. When you spend your entire life chasing after knowledge and being held to that standard of untouchable genius, it makes sense that you couldn’t connect with others and that you turn your gaze only to success. Therefore, relationships that are interpersonal lose meaning for a bit – you’re just looking for answers and ways to help them, not connect with them. Also, this is what he wants to do – so he’s never going to pass down an opportunity to better himself or to help someone else.

“Don’t want cash, don’t want card

Want it fast, want it hard

Don’t need money, don’t need fame

I just want to make a change

I just wanna change, I just wanna change”

This is directly alluding to his reasonings for distributing knowledge across the cosmos. Was he based on this song? Maybe he was. He’s not looking for money or fame, his ultimate goal is actually pretty selfless – to bring knowledge and give people the tools they need to think for themselves. He just wants to make a change – he just wants people to be able to have access to knowledge and help cure ‘stupidity’. He wants to do it as quickly as possible, always reaching for lofty goals that might seem impossible, but he will make them possible.

“I know exactly what I want and who I want to be

I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine

I’m now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy

Oh! Oh no! Oh no! Oh no, oh!”

Ratio knows his goal. He knows what he’s working towards. I do believe that he understands why he is the way that he is – he has a degree in Psychology, after all. He knows how he’s been hurt but at the same time, the trauma brain probably doesn’t want to recognize it and he hasn’t stepped into healing yet. He knows what he went through impacted him, but he’s too busy helping others to help himself. He’s becoming what he wants to be, and yet he’s not, all at the same time – which causes the idea of “oh no!” as a kind of cry for help, almost. He’s too proud to ask for it himself, of course, so he’ll fall alone until someone manages to catch him and give him the strength to continue holding on. Aventurine is that.

“One track mind, one track heart

If I fail, I’ll fall apart

Maybe it is all a test

‘Cause I feel like I’m the worst

So I always act like I’m the best”

Now, these are the exact lyrics that made me associate this song with Ratio in the first place. He’s got a singular goal that he will do nothing to stop at getting, that he goes so far to get to. However, as I mentioned earlier, failure is not an option for those who were deemed gifted or genius. You are perfect, so therefore you must live up to everyone’s every expectation and surpass them, too, in order to keep your perception of yourself intact. Ratio does not hold himself in high regard, but acts arrogant in order to hold himself together and not fall to the self-deprecating thoughts, even if they fall through the cracks. It gets tiring to hold yourself together like that for a long time, you know?

“I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly

I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die

I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly

I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die”

Remember how I was talking about contradictory mindsets and how they can coexist. This is them. The feeling of crippling self-hatred and lack of self esteem versus the idea that you can do it, you can make a difference – you were born a genius, this is what you’re going to do. This is the knowledge that you are a genius vs the lack of self-esteem that Ratio has. “Mediocre” vs “genius” mindset, eh?

All the other lyrics in this song are repetitions of what I’ve analyzed before, so let’s move onto “Are you Satisfied?”

To be honest, there are only a few lines in this song that allow me to connect it to Ratio, so therefore, I will only be analyzing them. However, if you think that other lyrics can connect to him, I’d be interested in knowing how.

“What you’re gonna be

It’s not my problem if you don’t see what I see

And I do not give a damn if you don’t believe

My problem, it’s my problem that I never am happy

It’s my problem, it’s my problem on how fast I will succeed”

Pretending to not care about how the world sees you is so fucking real. Sometimes, you really don’t give a shit, and sometimes it’s all you can think about. Ratio… doesn’t seem like he’s the happiest person. He works himself hard and he’s always chasing after a goal that must be exhausting. He’s always doing his best, and I think even with his empathy, it’s easy to start not giving a shit after trying for so long and so hard. Accepting help is one of the hardest things that anybody can do, especially with how much pride he has. His personal problems are his personal problems and he can deal with them on his own.

“High achiever, don’t you see?

Baby, nothing comes for free

They say I’m a control freak

Driven by a greed to succeed

Nobody can stop me”

Nothing comes for free. A lot of the things Ratio has achieved is due to his own intelligence, yes, but also because of a shit ton of hard work. His goal is literally to cure the universe of ‘stupidity’ – and that’s a pretty large fucking goal. He is a high achiever who likes to know the details of every situation when he can in order to try and make things better, and he is driven by a greed to succeed. Why wouldn’t he be? Success is important, and success means helping more people. He isn’t going to allow himself to be stopped by anybody – not even anybody from the Genius society.

Okay, and we have finally reached the end of my analysis! This caps at around 4k words, so if you stuck around for this long, thank you so much. I would love to hear any of your comments, and I hope you laughed a little bit. Thank you again! This means so much to me that you read. <3

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shu-box-puns · 1 year

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Participation Medals Of The Heart (Human!Lyle Wainfleet x Reader)

Word Count: 6827

Summary: Lyle is a terrible flirt and Reader secretly loves his ridiculous pick-up lines.

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

You can also read it here!

>_<

Lyle was a flirt, and you were hopelessly in love with him.

He was also a himbo and the squad fuck boy, with a body like Adonis and the sense of humour of a prepubescent boy. In short, he could practically get away with anything and get with anyone on base. And he definitely used it to his advantage.

Besides the colonel, you were the only one in his squad that had avoided his advances. He was your comrade, your friend, and you weren’t willing to allow something as stupid as feelings to ruin your relationship with him.

That being said, you wanted him. Badly.

Enough to tolerate his god awful pick up lines and allow him to practise his ‘moves’ on you before he went off to woo his next victim. You swore there were no brain cells floating around that man’s head, and yet he was the smoothest motherfucker you’d ever witnessed.

Before long however, Lyle would always find a way to remind you of his idiotic nature.

It was late. The rest of the squad had already turned in for the night and you needed to finish up some paperwork. You were the last one in the office, your desk light was the only one on in the room.

“Private.” The Colonel addressed you from the doorway of your office, making you glance up from your paperwork. Quarich looked exhausted as he leaned against the doorframe, his expression all business “Lyle’s ended up in the hospital ward again and is causing a ruckus. I need you to go retrieve him for me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Lyle and yourself were close, but you were not his keeper. “Why aren’t you retrieving him?” You challenged, sensing a catch, “you’re his commanding officer.”

The old man sighed taxingly before fixing you with a dead serious look. “They gave him painkillers.”

The sentence hung in the air for a moment as your face dropped and Quaritch nodded slowly, looking pained. “You’re a dick.” You groaned aloud, to which Quaritch did not correct you. “Why can’t you do it, you know what he’s like-”

With a taxing sigh, he straightened himself and fixed you with a stern look. “I’m ordering you Private,” he cut in, having had this argument with you many times before. “As your commanding officer, go pick up Lyle from the medics.”

You groaned loudly. “You owe me.” You promised, rolling your desk chair back and snatching up your army jacket from the back.

He stepped aside as you stormed out into the corridor. “I’ll give you an additional night off this week.” He promised, falling into step beside you as the pair of you made your way to the hospital wing.

You rolled your eyes. “Never thought you’d be afraid of your second, colonel.”

“I refuse to have a repeat of the last time I was the one to pick him up.” The old man promised with a badly suppressed shudder.

Quaritch walked you to Lyle’s temporary room before peeling away with the half-assed excuse that he would cover the discharge paperwork. You waved him off, taking a deep breath before letting yourself into the little room.

Lyle was sprawled out across the hospital bed, lying on top of the covers with his sock clad feet on the pillow. His boots had been discarded in the middle of the room with his jacket crumbled behind the door. There was a heart monitor tipped over on its side, whilst the leads that should’ve attached him to it were lying in a heap on the floor. Staring owlishly from the carnage to Lyle, you realised he was sporting a deep gash to the right of his temple.

“You've been doing some decorating, Corporal.” You mused by way of greeting as you let yourself in. Comically, Lyle’s head snapped up from the foot of the bed as a goofy ass grin stretched across his face.

“There’s my favourite Private!” He yelled merrily despite you being two feet away from him.

Wincing at the volume, you picked your way around his discarded items as you approached the bed. This wasn’t as bad as usual.

“How is your head?"

He grinned. "I’ve never had any complaints."

Nevermind.

You inhaled a deep, calming breath. You felt your pleasant smile drop and couldn’t help a groan slipped from between your lips. Lyle was already cackling, grabbing at your arm when you instinctively turned to leave. "Come on! That was good." He slurred.

"It was NOT." You insisted, before relenting at the pure mirth on his face. Fuck he was adorable like this, you thought.

"God, you're insufferable." You complained instead. The man in question promptly dissolved into a storm of cackles, his nose scrunching up as it usually did when he was this tickled.

Pulling yourself out of his grip, you moved to pick up his shoes and jacket. The bed creaked as he sat up, expression still amused as you approached again and began wrestling him back into his shoes. The corridors of the compound were not safe for defenceless feet.

"We both know you love it.”

You only hummed. And Lyle went quiet.

He was remarkably obedient as you rested either foot on your thighs and took the time to lace up his boots. The drugs were definitely beginning to set in then.

Once he was appropriately dressed, you grabbed his bicep and hauled him to his feet, hooking his arm around the back of your neck. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” You curled your arm around his waist to support him further, pressing the solid warmth of him into your side.

He practically melted under your touch, eyes falling to half mast. “You’re the best, Buttercup.”

“I’m not your Buttercup.” You groaned loudly, half leading, half dragging him away from the mess of a hospital bed.

He grumbled inaudibly as his head lolled on your shoulder, before he suddenly lurched. You jumped, scrambling to keep a hold of his swaying form as he practically threw himself off balance towards the bedside table. Your knuckles were tight on the back of his bullet proof vest, arm straining to keep his massive bulk from face planting on the floor.

You deadpanned when he straightened up, brandishing his stupid sunglasses like a trophy. Tightening your hold on his waist, you focused on steering him out of the small room and into the hallway.

Lyle went easily enough. Tripping over himself and staring at everything like he’d never seen it before. As if he hadn’t spent countless years roaming the same grey halls and sharing space with the same boring people.

“Hey Buttercup-”

“Still not your Buttercup.”

“Keep these safe f’r me.” He insisted, twisting awkwardly in your grip to push his sunglasses onto your face. You clenched your eyelids tightly against his unpredictable movements, feeling the arms of the glasses drag across your eye socket before falling crookedly into place on your nose.

He grinned as if he had accomplished a great feat. When in reality you knew he’d be tearing apart his bunk tomorrow looking for these sunglasses.

“Thank you.” You bit out, fumbling to push the glasses up onto your forehead and keep Lyle from knocking into unsuspecting civilians. Despite the bright overhead lights, it was still way too dark in the base to be wandering around with the blasted things on.

The colonel was at the entrance to the hospital wing where he’d left you. He smiled tightly at the pair of you as you dragged Wainfleet along.

“Miles!” He sang, making a clumsy grab for the colonel who was quick to dart out of reach. The corporal only smiled wider, seeming to think the encounter was a fun game, and tried to throw himself at Quaritch like he had at his sunglasses. You barely managed to keep him from throwing himself to the floor.

Quaritch politely tried to keep his amusement concealed. “You’re all signed out Wainfleet. I wanna see you bright eyed and bushy tailed in the morning.”

“Yessiirrrr.” He slurred, making a jerky salute that was a finger's length away from smacking you across the forehead.

“As you were Private.” Quaritch said calmly, to which you rolled your eyes just to make sure he knew how unhappy you were.

From there, it was just a matter of keeping Lyle awake long enough to get him back to the barracks.

Your squad mates were getting ready for bed when you hauled the half-conscious man into the large room. As you dragged him towards his bunk bed, he received several backpacks from Z-Dog and Fike, the latter of which was smiling like he was the cat who got the canary.

“Fike! You ASS!” Lyle slurred, making a grab at the grinning man who was quick to clamber up the ladder to his top bunk. “I’m gonna kill ya.”

“What did you do?” You sighed, glancing from Lyle’s lopsided glare to Fike who was barely concealing a laugh.

“Nothing.” He lied.

Lyle raised his hand that wasn’t wrapped around your neck and pointed accusingly up at the man. Sounding more like a toddler than a corporal. “That asshole kicked me down the stairs!” Z-Dog barely suppressed a snort.

“You tried to grab my feet!”

“You slapped cheese on my head!”

“And I’d do it again!”

Lyle yelled something inaudible, and Z-Dog finally stepped in, clapping her hands. “Alright kids, bedtime. You can fight it out in training tomorrow morning.”

Lyle was already shaking his head before she had finished talking. And judging by the way he was staring at the ladder up to Fike’s bunk, the pain meds were telling him it was a very good idea to finish this now. Thankfully, Z-Dog distracted him before he could act on any impulsive thoughts.

“Corporal, Y/n looks exhausted. They need to go to bed.”

He swayed in play, thinking hard. Then snapped his head to you. You jumped in place under that scrutinising gaze. “Alright.” He finally agreed, taking a heavy step towards his own bunk only for his leg to buckle threateningly.

You grunted, bracing your knees under his weight and hauling him back up.

“You got him Private?” Z-Dog mused, to which you waved her off.

In the past, you’ve had to lug this heavy idiot - wounded - through treacherous rainforests. In comparison, hauling his loopy ass to his bunk should be a walk in the park.

As you sat him down on his bed, you silently praised the gods that he'd claimed a bottom bunk, since there was no way in hell you were gonna be able to haul this sack of muscle up a ladder. He still had his thinking face on as you unceremoniously stripped him of his bullet proof vest, removed his belt and neatly set his boots on the floor by the headboard. His head was flopping about comically now, slouched on the bed as his eyes barely followed your movements.

Carefully, you coaxed him into laying down; making sure he had his head on the pillow this time. Reaching down to grab the covers, you uttered a quiet, “good night Lyle.”

His head rolled towards you, smiling so softly that for a moment, it punched the air from your lungs. You pulled the cover up and tucked it around him. Meanwhile, his hand had strayed from his side and risen to cup your cheek. You stilled, eyes widening as you found his gaze in the soft darkness of the room.

“Night Buttercup.” He whispered in a tone that made your knees weak. So quiet that there was no way anyone else in the room had heard. The lights were dimmed now, soft breathes from the other bunks indicating that the others had slipped into sleep.

You expected him to pass out on the spot.

And he did.

But not before that arm looped around your shoulders and dragged you down into bed with him.

You squawked, pulling at his solid arms as you were bodily yanked into bed and held there by his strong embrace. Wiggling was futile. He had you, and by the sound of it, was dead asleep against your back.

“You have got to be kidding me.” You groaned to the still room as you silently resigned yourself to being a stuffed animal for the night. Your belt buckle was pressing uncomfortably into your stomach, whilst your army jacket was bunched weirdly under your armpits. You’d think the thick material would be too rough against Lyle’s cheek, but he didn’t seem to give a shit and only cuddled closer.

His stupid sunglasses were still sitting crooked on your brow and were now digging into the side of your head.

“Z-Dog?”

No response.

“Fike?”

Not even the creak of someone turning over.

“For fuck sake Lyle.”

>_<

There was a bright light shining behind your eyelid. Scrunching up your nose, you clumsily reached up for the stupid sunglasses and yanked them down over your eyes.

Someone snorted.

Your mind came to a screeching halt as you struggled to find your bearings.

People were whispering inaudibly, your groggy mind struggling to catch what was being said.

That blasted light passed behind your eyes again, and you grumpily peeled open your eyes to find Mansk leaning over you, a pocket torch in hand. His own sunglasses were on his forehead for once, eyes catching your scowl as his face split into an amused grin. "Just checking everyone is following the rule, Private." He said simply, referencing the main rule of the compound that had had to be implemented because of Lyle's thirsty ass.

"What's-?" You slurred, stretching and groaning as you registered a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. At some point in the night, you’d rolled onto your back.

Unexpectedly, Fike popped into view, blocking out the sunlight peering in through a gap in the curtains. "Don't worry Private. You've both got stuff on below the belt."

Your brows furrowed as you opened your mouth to ask him what the hell he was on about, only to be distracted by someone shifted on your chest. Instinctively, your cheeks heated as your gaze snapped to a half naked Lyle curled up on your chest. He was drooling on your shirt front, his cheek squished into your chest whilst his strong arms were wrapped around your waist.

And he was shirtless. Eyes cutting to the side, you realised he’d wiggled out of his tank top at some point in the night and it was now hanging onto the edge of the mattress for dear life.

“This isn’t my bunk.” You breathed dumbly.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Footsteps sounded from further in the room, drawn closer by the pair of idiots leaning into Lyle’s bunk. You turned to the noise, feeling your face drop at Z-Dog’s sudden appearance and the shit eating grin that promptly split across her face. “Well I’ll be damned.” She stated loudly, “I thought we’d all die before you two got it together.”

“What the fuck you on about?” You bit back impulsively.

“Lyle’s been trying to get in your pants for years Y/n. And you’ve been dodging him like the plague for even longer.” She laughed as your eyes narrowed. “/And/ you’ve been pinning after his ass since you first-”

You scrambled blindly for one of Lyle’s shoes and tossed it at her head with deadly accuracy. “Shut the hell up!” You snapped, heart pounding. Z-Dog barely dodged the boot in time.

“It’s true!” She sang.

“Stop winding them up.” Lyle cut in, “you’re making my pillow tense up.” He was still mostly out of it, lifting his head enough to push at your chest as one would fluff up their pillow, before he promptly burrowed back down into your warmth.

“Lyle.” You hissed, trying to shake him off before he could fall back asleep, but he ignored you. Those arms tightened around your waist, making your heart squeeze uncomfortably, before he let out a content sigh. “Corporal Wainfleet!”

He jerked. Head shooting up and snapping to glance around the room as if expecting an attack at any moment. You felt air rush into your lungs as his weight was removed from your torso. His gaze fell to his squad mates.

“What the hell do you guys want?” He stated bluntly, “get lost would you?”

“As much as I’d love to leave you to your imperative task of cuddling the life out of Y/n,” Mansk replied coolly, “the colonel assigned you two for Jungle Escort in an hour. Augustine’s group again.”

“An hour?”

“Yes sir.”

Lyle promptly flopped back down. “Understood. Now get your asses out of here.” They began to shuffle away. “And Fike, watch your back.”

The man in question returned the statement with the middle finger before following the rest of the squad out of the barracks in the direction of the cantine.

You sighed in relief as the room fell silent, head flopping back down on the pillow.

“Don’t mind them. They’ll prod at anything when they’re bored.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about.”

Lyle lifted his head from your chest again, lips pulled into a thoughtful frown as he hovered over you. You swallowed audibly, eyes flickering all over his gorgeous face and wanting more than anything for him to close the distance between you.

“Damn you look good in my shades Buttercup.”

The nickname had your stomach tightening. And then you remembered who he was, and stiffened at the realisation that the practised line had no doubt been offered to everyone else he’d dragged into bed with him.

Your cheeks flamed as you snatched them off your face and jammed them over his eyes. “Move. I can’t feel my legs.” Lyle started, head jerking back at the sudden rough treatment. With those burning eyes off you, you could breathe again.

“The hell dude?” He chuckled good naturedly, adjusting the glasses over his eyes as he titled his head cutely. “You almost took my eye out.” There was no anger in his tone, but you’d known him long enough to pick up on the worry hidden in his words. He knew something was bothering you. Too bad you didn’t have the confidence to explain yourself.

“You did the same to me last night.” You deflected before pushing at his naked shoulders. “Now move.”

“I dunno, I quite like it where I am.” He mused, your scowl reflecting back at you in the tinted lens of the sunglasses.

“This is your only warning Corporal.” You stated simply. “Roll off, or I’m getting Z-Dog to smack you back into your mother.”

“It’d have to be one hell of a hit, but I don’t want to test it.” He chuckled and true to his word, he shifted his weight to the side and flopped down on the strip of mattress to your side. You immediately felt the blood flooding back into your legs as pins and needles invaded your numb feet. You did not bother arguing with him as you finally hauled yourself out of his bed with an audible pop of your lower spine.

The bedsprings creaked as Lyle rolled into the warm patch of mattress, his eyes greedily drinking in your stretching form. “I hate it when you leave, but boy do I love watching you go.”

“Go back to bed.” You snapped out of reflex, his responding cackle chasing you across the room to your own bunk where a fresh set of clothes had already been laid out.

>_<

The samson engine was roaring loudly enough that you almost missed the complaint of one of Grace’s scientists. “Why did you drag along /two/ meatheads?” The avatar hissed, his ears flicking in your direction as Grace frowned at him.

You and Lyle exchanged unimpressed looks as you watched Dr Augustine’s avatar turn on her colleague. She did so slowly, menacingly. The size of her was enough to have the scientist shrinking in his seat.

Whilst you and Lyle acted as security out here, in reality, you were pretty sure Grace only dragged the pair of you along to keep Quaritch off her back. You knew she was more than capable of keeping herself and her team alive in these woods.

“Believe me.” She explained in a deadly serious voice. “With Wainfleet on the mission, you want someone else to hold most of his attention.” Lyle scoffed good naturedly whilst Grace rolled her eyes at him, her tail flicking behind her.

“Stand by for landing.” Trudy called from the cockpit as the samson lurched, and began to lose altitude.

Rising from your seats, you and Lyle moved to the opposite open doors of the samson belly, guns raised and trained on the surrounding wildlife. Herds of hexapedes took off into the undergrowth as the wind of the propellers kicked up the flaura.

The great machine had barely touched down before Grace was hopping out and ordering you to stick close to the ship. There was no time to respond as she swept away into the bushes, her companions hot on her tail, leaving you alone with Lyle and Trudy. The latter of which didn’t bother to climb out of the driver's seat and instead leaned back to prop her feet up on the dashboard.

Your attention was immediately drawn to the world beyond the clear acrylic of your exo mask. Turning in a slow circle, you couldn’t help but marvel at the lush rainforest of Pandora. The green colour palette of the wild was a refreshing change from the endless greyscale of Hell’s Gate.

Movement at your side drew you attention from the forest as you turned to a smiling Lyle. His eyebrows were wiggling suggestively beneath his mask as he jutted his chin towards the bushes, “do you want to go do some exploring of our own?” Whilst yes, you wanted to do what he was insinuating AND look at the plants, you settled for another groan.

“Pack it in." You ordered, pushing at his shoulder before moving past him and into the shadow of the trees.

“All right. All right.” He mused, his booted feet following loudly. It was quiet for about a heartbeat before he opened his mouth again. You cut your gaze to him. He snapped his mouth shut with an audible click of teeth, smiling to himself and looking off to the side.

You smiled despite yourself. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”

Lyle visibly brightened. “Okay, how about this one?” He stopped walking to clear his throat. Despite your better judgement, you also slowed your footsteps and turned in place to give him your full attention. His expression could only be described as smouldering as he fixed you with strong eye contact and said smoothly, “are you a time traveler, Private? Because I see you in my future.”

You snorted despite yourself before turning to keep moving.

He chuckled, taking the motion as a sign to keep going. Lyle’s voice was silky smooth as he dropped another pick up line for you to trip over. “Your hand is looking awfully lonely. Can I hold it for you?”

You rolled your eyes, a clump of blue flowers catching your eye. “That one was too cheesy.” You laughed, glancing back at him. He was already watching you instead of the undergrowth.

Turning away, you returned your gaze to the flowers. You recognised them as sun lilies, having seen a sample back in Augustine’s lab some time ago. With your shadow falling over them and blocking out the sun, the bioluminescent elements of the plant's genetic make up began to glow. Purple lined the edges of the petals, you realised, a feature that seemed to not carry over when the plant was cut from its roots and preserved.

Lyle paused at your side, his head tilted to the side challengingly. “Alright. How about,” he paused dramatically, drawing your attention before stating confidently, “I’m not an organ donor, but I’m willing to give you my heart?”

Shaking your head, you replied honestly, “I think that was worse.”

Lyle was not deterred and immediately jumped into his next one. “The sparkle in your eyes is so bright, I bet the sun and stars must be jealous.” He’s grinning widely, at your responding groan. Lyle sidestepped when you tried to walk around him. “Have we met before? Because you look like my next partner-”

“Alright, stop there.” You cackled, pushing at his mask and forcing him back a few steps. You walked past him, keeping in mind to keep the samson in sight as you circled the clearing. “God, what poor soul are you practising for now? Mandy?” The sound of Lyle’s footsteps ceased shuffling through the undergrowth behind you. “Leo was definitely giving you the eyes when we left this morning.”

“Do you see Leo or Mandy around here?” He scoffs, looking at you like you’re the idiot.

“Corporal, I’ve caught you practising some of these in the barracks mirror before. This isn’t out of character for you.”

“Damn, tough crowd.” He laughed, more to himself than you.

Clutching your gun tightly in both hands, you were saved from responding by your earpiece crackling. Grace’s voice came over the comms, sounding amused. 'Corporal, as humorous as that display was to overhear, can you flirt off the clock. My team doesn't need to listen to your failed attempts at getting laid.'

Your head snapped back to Lyle, eyes catching on the red glow of the broadcast button at his throat. The idiot had been translating the whole conversation to the rest of the team. Your cheeks flamed as you pictured Trudy cackling away in the samson cockpit. Listening to the pickup lines and the easy conversation as if it were her own personal podcast.

“You got it doc.” Lyle replied quickly. You wanted to be mad, but at the sudden colour in his cheeks and the hurried way in which he scrambled for his throat, you realised he hadn’t done it intentionally.

'Grace!' Trudy jumped in, sounding royally put out over the comms. 'Why the hell did you do that? I was taking notes on how NOT to get laid.'

You pressed your hand to your earpiece before Augustine or anyone else could jump in. “Woah, there captain, who said anything about sex?”

“No one,” Lyle mused, recovering surprisingly fast from his fuck up. That look was back in his eye, the one he wore when he called you Buttercup. He took one, purposeful step closer. “But since you brought it up-”

Your gaze narrowed, feet instinctively stepping back at his blatant advance. “I don’t work like that Wainfleet.” You said bluntly, and his smile faltered. Something unspoken passed between you. And Lyle seemed to shrink before your eyes. His earlier bravado of flexing like a peacock and coming off as cocky had been chased from him like the smile that had been dropped from his face. He looked confused; small.

You hated that expression on him, so you turned away. This time when you turned to walk away, he did not follow.

>_<

The tension was unbearable on the ride back to Hell’s Gate. Lyle refused to meet your gaze, but he didn’t leave your side once he’d made his way back to the samson.

Grace sighed at the sad sight, leaving the pair of you in the back with her scientists as she sat on the bench closest to the pilot's seat so she could talk to Trudy instead.

“Find anything interesting?” You asked the scientist from earlier. His avatar stared at you dumbly, eyes flickering across your face as if trying to decide if you were worth talking to.

“Plants.” He replied sharply before burying himself back into his data pad. You scoffed, leaning back in your seat since it was clear there would be no decent conversation to be found there.

Leaning your head back against the buzzing metal wall, you closed your eyes and tried to ignore the warmth of Lyle’s leg pressed against your own. You’d think he’d sit in one of the vacant seats rather than putting himself right next to you.

Luckily, it wasn’t a long trip to Hell’s Gate. Eavesdropping on Trudy and Grace helped to pass the time, since between them they had gathered a fair amount of juicy gossip from both the science and military divisions. And when Trudy gave the go ahead to climb out of the samson, you were the first one out of your seat.

Jumping down neatly onto the tarmac, you strode purposefully for the hangar doors that would lead deeper into the compound. Lyle was right on your tail - as always - yelling at you to wait up. You didn’t bother slowing your pace, knowing from experience that he wasn’t above flat out printing to catch up.

“Fuck you’re fast today.” He sighed when he caught up to you in the airlock. You avoided his gaze, hands shaking slightly as you reached up for your exo pack and unclasped it from your face. Lyle mirrored the action, miming flicking his non-existent hair before placing the mask back on its hook.

You averted your gaze, doing the same before shoving open the door to the airlock and taking a sharp left.

“Buttercup.” Lyle called to your back, which only made your pace quicken. “Hey!” You didn’t respond. He ran to catch up with you. “Stop running away from me.”

“Stop following me.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” It was not okay. You were embarrassed and wanted to go crawl into a hole somewhere.

The people milling around in the halls were quick to dive out of your way as you stormed past, you face the definition of thunder.

“Look, I promise I’ll lay off with the flirting.” You didn’t acknowledge him and he struggled to keep pace. “I’ll quit it with the pick up lines.” He was looking at you, you could see him in your peripheral trying to gauge your expression. “I’ll stop calling you Buttercup.”

That last one had your heart clenching painfully, but you remained strong. This was good. Perhaps you’d finally grow a pair and be able to get over him if he put some distance between you.

Lyle grabbed your arm unexpectedly, causing you to freeze in the middle of the hallway. His gaze was intense when you turned on him, a demand on the tip of your tongue to be released. The words died in your throat at his expression. “But only if you look me in the eye right now and tell me you’re not interested.”

You tested his grip on you, he remained firm. You swallow thickly, knowing it’s now or never. Lyle was as stubborn as he was flirty. He WOULD follow you around for the rest of the day if you didn’t give him a straight answer now. You wouldn’t put it past him that he would invade your bunk if you kept tight lipped. “I am interested.” You admitted pathetically.

True to his word, he let you go. There was no humour in his low laugh this time, just pain. “You sure don’t act like it.” His hands went to his pockets, burrowing in deep as if he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. Then he paused as visibly backpedalled. “Well you do, and then I try to extend the offer and you run away. I mean, I love the chase as much as the next guy, but surely you have to be getting bored by now.”

“I am interested.” You repeated, “it’s just-” You glanced away again, realising with a deep rooted sense of relief that the hallway was practically empty. No one but Lyle would be privy to this moment.

“Are you not interested in sex?” Lyle jumped in when he assumed you wouldn’t continue. Before adding quickly, “because that’s fine. We don’t have to fuck if you’re not into that.”

“I am.”

“Are you not interested in sex with me?”

“What?” You blurted, looking at him like he’d grown a second head.

He threw up his hands in defeat. “Dude, you aren’t giving me anything here.”

“Alright fine, I’m scared.”

He blanched. “Of me?” He made it sound like that was ridiculous. “What the hell are you scared of? It’s me. Lyle!” He blurted as if you didn’t know who you were fucking talking to. Your lips thinned, the urge to smack him rising in the back of your mind like an irritating itch.

Instead of acting on that impulse, you worked hard to keep your voice even as you explained. “Exactly. And you’re always hopping from fling to fling and I can’t do that.” He was nodding along, but you could tell it wasn’t clicking yet. “Look, you’re more than a quick fuck and a pretty face to me. I’m not interested in waking up in a cold bed and pretending nothing happened between us, so yes, I have been refusing your advances because I don’t want to get hurt.”

Lyle was still nodding but his gaze was vacant as if someone had pressed the factory reset button. And then he abruptly came back to life. “Why the hell didn’t you lead with that?”

“It felt pathetic obviously.”

He shook his head, that signature grin back in place and brighter than any sun. “Fuck Buttercup. If only you’d said something before.” He complained good naturedly, squeezing your shoulder before turning away and jogging off down the hall.

You blinked at the spot he’d been standing in, before the situation caught up to you. “Where the hell are you going?” You yelled at his retreating back, “I pour my guts out to you and you decide to run off?”

“I’ve got to adjust my battle plan. See you at dinner?”

“Oh. Okay?”

>_<

There was a vase of your favourite flowers on your desk. Sun lilies to be exact. A sizable bouquet of them. All messily jammed into a vase you’d never seen before, and placed carefully in front of your desk chair. Backlit by the moon peering in through the office window, you couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtful gesture.

There was no note beside it, but you didn’t need one to know who had gotten you the flowers.

They glowed softly in the dimness of the deserted office. The purple stripes lining their outer petals were still glowing despite having been cut from its food source.

When the hell had he found the time to go flower picking?

A shadow passed across the doorway to the office, before pausing. You tore your gaze away from the flowers to find Lyle leaning against the doorframe. The breath stuck in your throat at his casual attire, and the way his shirt sleeve strained to contain the strength in his arms.

“Any chance you have an extra heart?” He asked by way of greeting, startling a soft laugh out of you. “Mine’s been stolen!”

“You got me flowers Corporal?” You mused aloud instead of acknowledging the god awful pick-up line. His smile was small, almost private as he straightened and stepped fully into the room.

“Everyone likes flowers.” Lyle explained as he neared. The smell of cologne swirled in the air between you, giving you an idea of how serious he was about this, considering the man didn’t own any form of body spray, and you were pretty certain that was the colonel’s personal touch. You watched with amusement as he leant around you to pluck one of the shorter blooms from the vase. He spun the five petalled flower between his thumb and forefinger before gently tucking it behind your left ear. “You clean up nice.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You returned easily.

“Thank Prager.” Lyle mused honestly, “I tried to leave the barracks in my usual and he dragged me back in by the dog tag.”

“I will.” You promised, greedily drinking him in.

Rolling his eyes before extending his hand to you. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way.” You said simply, placing your hand in his and allowing him to lead you out of the office and towards the roof.

The walk was short and pleasantly devoid of anyone in the hallways as Lyle dragged you to the stairs that would lead to the greenhouse. He went up first, handing you an exo pack before holding the door open for you and ordering that you close your eyes. Arching a brow at him sceptically, you felt compelled to comply, allowing him to take your arm and carefully lead you across the flat roof.

The creak of hinges and increase in humidity against your skin suggested you’d been led into the greenhouse. Your heart swelled at the thought, realising that Lyle had taken into account your fascination with the rainforest and tried to accommodate it. Plants from earth dragged along your arms as Lyle’s larger form rustled the foliage.

“And, open them.” Lyle instructed, his hand dropping from your wrist.

You did.

Your eyes caught on the fairy lights first, woven through the overhead water pipes that ran hung from the roof of the greenhouse. The soft voice of Hozier drifting between the tightly planted plant pots. It felt otherworldly. A tiny haven all to yourselves.

“I didn’t know you liked Hozier.” You mused, glancing back at him to find him already looking at you. His hand was still in yours. Gently holding on. You found that you loved the contact.

Lyle chuckled, ducking his gaze as he admitted quietly, “you’ll have to ask Fike, he gave me the playlist.”

You snort. “Did he not trust you on your own date?”

“None of them did.” He mused without a hint of hurt. His smile was bright and honest. “Mansk handled the food - which is in the fridge in the kitchens by the way. Z-Dog threatened me into letting her help put up the fairy lights. Prager fucking dressed me.”

“You did a good job.” You insist. “This is super fucking cute, and I know this isn’t within your comfort zone.”

“They didn’t want me to fuck this up.” He admitted, motioning between you.

You laughed lightly, cupping his face like he had cupped yours last night. “You think I play hard to get?” He nodded sceptically. You grinned mischievous. “Just wait until you see how dedicated I am at playing hard to get rid of.”

His returning smile reached all the way up to his eyes. His nose scrunching at the movement. “God I love you.” He breathed. The quiet, admittance sending a spark of warmth through you.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. That soft smile turned devious as the song changed and he abruptly swept you away with the soft rhythm of the music.

You found out rather quickly that Lyle was shit at dancing. He couldn’t hold a tune to save his life and every move he tried consisted of what you could only call ‘Dad dancing’. But it was adorable and childish and had you cackling the whole time. Getting lost in the motions. Weaving between the plants. Lost in your own little world as he sang awfully off key and tried to keep in time.

You lost yourselves in the songs of the playlist. The softer, more romantic songs giving way to faster paced ballads. Making your heart pound as you sweated and struggled to keep up with Lyle’s bountiful energy.

Somewhere distant, the clock struck eleven.

The last song finally reached its end, offering a few parting notes before trailing off into the quiet rustle of the leaves brushing against your skin, and the harsh panting from such an intense workout.

Then the sprinklers came on.

Lyle cursed. Whatever magical spell had fallen on the greenhouse abruptly broke as the pair of you scrambled to shove on your exo packs and scramble out of the chilling spray. The next song started up as you broke through the glass doors and emerged onto the roof.

Lyle was soaked. His shirt sticking to him in all the right places. “I forgot about the timers.” He admitted dumbly, laughing sheepishly.

You sighed, taking up his hand again as a cheesy song from an old fantasy film started playing. Something about sailing and poetry, of time and golden rings. A duet between lovers.

You took Lyle’s hand again and led him into a slower paced dance. Something to calm your pounding hearts and allow your tired feet a moment of reprieve

Instead of the tight spaces between the potted plants, there was plenty of room out here to frolic, to get lost in the music and feel enchanted by the reflection of the stars in Lyle’s exo pack. To laugh and appreciate the glow of the forest beyond the base.

The perfect background to stare at Lyle and feel content. Light years away from everything you knew, and yet, feeling the most at home you’d ever been.

#lyle wainfleet #lyle wainfleet x reader #crack treated seriously #bad pickup lines #friends to lovers #attempt at humour #one bed trope #misunderstandings #recoms #deja blue #wainfleet

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