#second of all. NO. when we had the teacher prior to the one who just left I loved russian and literature! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jetii · 3 months ago

Text

Lessons of the Heart

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader / Crosshair x Teacher!Reader

Words: 15,738

Tags/Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, strangers to lovers, soft!Crosshair, grumpy/sunshine dynamic, awkward flirting, mutual pining, kissing/making out, Crosshair's anxiety, reader has long-ish hair, Tech mentioned briefly

Summary: Over a year after settling on Pabu, Crosshair is still struggling to adapt to life without having something to fight, or fight for. When Omega comes home with a bad grade, he jumps at the chance to help. He doesn't expect to become so invested, and he certainly doesn't expect to fall for his sister's teacher.

A/N: This one got away from me! But since the poll indicated I should keep this all one part, here you go. I really enjoyed writing Crosshair's perspective and all the little sibling moments in here.

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"Again, Omega? We talked about this."

Crosshair stops dead in his tracks, one boot in front of the other, and stares straight ahead. The basket of dirty clothes in his grip hangs limp by his side as he stands in the hallway, listening. Hunter and Omega are in the kitchen, the latter having just gotten back from another day at school, and they’re clearly talking about something serious.

Crosshair doesn't dare to breathe too loud in case he misses a single word. It's hard not to notice how Hunter's voice drops low when he speaks, trying not to be overheard by someone. By someone like Crosshair.

"I know, Hunter," she groans. He can hear the sound of something hit the counter, likely a datapad, and Omega shifts on her stool. "I tried on this one, I promise."

Hunter hums in a tone that makes it clear he's not quite believing her, and Crosshair's eyebrows raise a little in curiosity.

"Let me see, please."

"Hunter—"

"Omega."

She huffs, but a few seconds later, the datapad slides across the counter with a quiet squeak, and Omega's chair scrapes across the floor as she sits back down. "There. Happy?"

"Thank you." There's a pause, and Crosshair can only imagine the face Hunter is making as he reads whatever it is that Omega is showing him. His voice is stern, a tone that Crosshair's come to know as the sergeant, not the brother. "What is this?"

"I told you," she whines.

"She gave you a 50%?" Hunter's voice raises slightly. "Why would she do that?"

Omega scoffs. She's getting better at that. It almost sounds natural now.

Crosshair peeks around the corner, and sure enough, Hunter has the datapad in his hands, reading over whatever report the teacher sent back. Omega sits next to him, her shoulders slumped, arms crossed, and she's not meeting his gaze. Her backpack sits unzipped, its contents strewn out across the countertop and the stool where she usually sits.

He knows he shouldn't eavesdrop, but he's been doing it for so long he's not sure how to stop. And besides, the look on Hunter's face is one he doesn't like.

They'd all known going into this that Omega wasn't going to have an easy time at school. She excelled far beyond her peers in most subjects — math, history, science, languages, you name it — but there were two subjects where her intelligence failed her. Art, for one, because it was hard to grasp the concept of drawing something when she had no frame of reference. And then, of course, there was literature.

It's not her fault, and Hunter's well aware of it. Her education prior to the Batch adopting her was entirely focused on being the best lab assistant a Kaminoan could ever want. Over time, she soaked up anything they would teach her. Strategy, engineering, politics, even some basic medical training — Omega could do it all. But, as it turned out, there was a pretty big part of her education that she was severely lacking in, and it was starting to show.

Out of the three brothers, Crosshair was the only one who actually made a habit out of reading, though he'd never admit it to anyone. So he tried his best to teach Omega the concepts that her teacher was trying to instill in her, but sometimes it was difficult.

Literature was, by nature, subjective. It's always up for debate, and Crosshair found himself constantly questioning himself while helping Omega with her assignments. It usually ended with both of them frustrated, and Hunter or Wrecker stepping in to mediate the situation.

But still, Omega loved her classes, even if they were difficult. And Crosshair would never say it out loud, but he enjoyed spending time with her and helping her learn, even if it wasn't always the easiest.

It seemed, though, that her teacher didn't agree with his methods.

Hunter looks up from the datapad and places it on the counter. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and reaches across to pat Omega's shoulder. "It's okay. We can work with this."

She shrugs him off and hops down from the stool, gathering her things and stuffing them into her bag. When she tries to reach for the datapad, Hunter snatches it up and holds it out of her reach.

"Give it to me, Hunter."

"No. We're going to talk about this, Omega."

"There's nothing to talk about," she mutters, trying again and failing to grab the datapad.

Crosshair takes that as his cue. He steps into the kitchen and drops the basket of laundry onto the ground by his feet, the force of the landing enough to get their attention.

"Oh, good," Hunter says, looking at Crosshair. "You're home."

"Yep." Crosshair pops the 'p' and folds his arms, leaning back against the wall. He meets Omega's eyes for a moment, and the look on her face is like a punch to the gut. She looks defeated, and it's not a look that suits her.

He hates seeing her upset, especially over something so trivial. It's a report, and not even a very important one. It's not like her grades in the other classes were suffering. She was passing every single one of them with flying colors. It's just this one assignment, this one class, this one teacher who seems hellbent on making her feel bad about herself.

Crosshair can feel the rage bubbling under the surface. How dare her teacher give her a score that low, and why? Because of his help? That was his job, and he was doing it.

"What's going on?" Crosshair asks. He's still staring at Omega, trying to get her to look up at him, to meet his gaze, but she's not taking the bait. She's got her arms folded, her shoulders tense, and her lower lip juts out as she pouts at Hunter.

"I told her we'd talk about it, and she doesn't want to." Hunter sets the datapad back down, sliding it across the counter.

Crosshair picks it up, glancing at the words on the screen before scrolling through the report. It's an analysis, one he's read a million times. He doesn't bother skimming it, because he already knows exactly what she wrote. It's a decent summary of the text, and her thoughts and opinions are written plainly and with an obvious understanding of what the author meant. It's not her fault her teacher wanted her to interpret the text the way a typical thirteen-year-old might, but that wasn't who Omega was.

He glances back up at Hunter. "And what is there to talk about?"

"Well, her teacher doesn't seem to agree with her analysis," Hunter says. He nods at the datapad in Crosshair's hand. "The comments."

Crosshair finds the section in question and reads over the notes. It's a lot of the same, just worded a bit differently, but one comment sticks out among the rest.

Please try to stick to the original meaning of the text, Omega. You did well explaining how your interpretation differed from the traditional meaning, but try to focus on the actual story.

It's the most condescending, ridiculous thing Crosshair has ever read, and he has to keep himself from throwing the datapad at the wall. He has to remind himself that doing that would only make Omega feel worse, and he doesn't want to upset her.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and hands the datapad back to her.

"This is stupid," he says, and he can see Hunter's eye twitch at his choice of words. "I read the text. I know what it means, and you know what it means. What, are you supposed to go through the entire thing and find the most cliche, obvious way of reading it?"

"No," Omega mumbles.

"Right," he agrees. "So then why is she giving you a low grade for your own thoughts and opinions?"

Omega shrugs. She's frowning, staring down at the datapad like it personally offended her.

And Crosshair knows that feeling, intimately. It's the same way he'd stare at the training room floor whenever a drill sergeant would call him a failure. It grates on his nerves, and he's half-tempted to find the teacher's home address and tell her just how wrong she is.

"But I'm doing it wrong," Omega says, her voice small and defeated.

Hunter is glaring at him now, but Crosshair can't find it in him to care.

"No, you're not," Crosshair insists, and he takes a seat beside her at the counter. "You did your research. You did everything you were supposed to, and you wrote a report about what you think it meant. What's wrong with that?"

Omega shrugs again, and he can see her hands balling up into fists.

The sight alone is enough to set him on edge. His entire body feels like a coiled spring, his muscles tense and ready to go. He hates seeing her like this. She's a bright kid, always smiling and happy, and to see her so down on herself makes him feel ill, and the last thing he wants is for her to think she's failed somehow.

Crosshair doesn't know why the teacher doesn't understand that, doesn't appreciate how amazing it is that a girl her age is even capable of writing a paper like this. Maybe, somewhere deep down, the teacher does get it. Maybe she's just pushing her own agenda. It wouldn't surprise Crosshair in the slightest, and the more he thinks about it, the more annoyed he gets.

"Maybe I should comm her," Hunter says, interrupting his train of thought.

Crosshair snaps his head around, glaring daggers at his brother. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't comm her." He pushes himself away from the counter and stands. "I'll handle this."

Hunter stares at him, one eyebrow raised, clearly confused. "Handle it?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna talk to her."

"Cross," Hunter says, but he doesn't finish his sentence.

Crosshair doesn't stick around long enough to hear the end of it. He's already halfway out the door, pulling his jacket off the hook, and slamming the door shut behind him.

Crosshair is pissed.

He doesn't often get angry. Annoyed, frustrated, irritated, yes. All those are familiar. But angry? Angry is not something he deals with. He can't stand it, the way his chest feels like it's about to explode, the way his heart rate picks up and his stomach feels sick. Anger makes him feel out of control, and the last thing he wants is to lose the little self-control he does have.

But now?

Now, he's angry.

Omega doesn't deserve to be treated like this. She doesn't deserve the way her teacher is talking to her, telling her she's doing something wrong when she isn't. If anything, the teacher should be grateful that Omega is even bothering to read the texts in the first place, that she's putting in the effort to analyze the meanings behind them.

He's so caught up in his own thoughts, he barely realizes how far he's gone. It's only when he spots the school, the tall building looming in the distance, does he realize he's halfway across town, and the sun is starting to dip below the horizon.

He slows his pace, taking a moment to catch his breath, and glances around. He's only been here a few times, just long enough to drop Omega off at the start of the day or pick her up after. He's never actually been inside, never even met a single one of her teachers, and he has no idea where her classroom even is.

A sign points him towards the front entrance, and he follows it. There's a handful of other parents waiting around the main entrance, all of them talking and laughing and joking with one another. A few of them glance his way, watching him curiously as he approaches the doors.

He ignores them, slipping inside and letting the doors close behind him. The hallways are quiet, and the sound of his boots against the tile echoes throughout the empty halls. He's not entirely sure where he's going, but he figures it can't be that hard to find her classroom.

It isn't.

It takes him less than a minute to locate her name, next to a door decorated with bright colors and images of what he assumes are the characters from a few of the stories they've read. He doesn't stop to admire the decorations, though. He doesn't stop at all, really. He pushes the door open and walks right inside, his eyes scanning the room.

The rows of chairs and desks are empty, but the one near the holoboard at the front of the room is occupied. There's a human woman sitting there, head bowed over a desk as she writes, and Crosshair strides up to her without hesitation.

"I want to talk about the report you gave Omega," he says, his voice tight, barely able to contain his anger. The woman looks up, clearly startled, and blinks owlishly at him.

The anger coursing through his veins suddenly tempers as he locks eyes with you, and he finds himself at a loss for words.

You're not what he was expecting, not in the slightest. He'd expected someone older, a woman with graying hair and crow's feet, maybe, one who's lived enough years to become old and jaded. Not this. Not you.

Your eyes are wide and bright, and the expression on your face is nothing short of adorable. He's not sure where that word came from, thrust to the forefront of his consciousness with the force of a speeder, but he can't deny that it's accurate. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun, a few loose strands hanging over your face, and there's a small, pink stylus stuck behind your ear. Your lips are slightly parted, a pretty shade of pink that almost matches the color of the pen, and he watches as they slowly form into a small 'o' as you process what's going on.

And then, just as quickly, your expression changes.

The adorableness falls away, and you straighten your posture, your brows furrowing and your lips pulling into a tight line.

"You must be Crosshair."

He frowns. "How did you—"

"She talks about you." You nod, glancing him up and down, and Crosshair has to fight the urge to shrink under your scrutiny. His mouth feels dry, and the sudden change in tone catches him off-guard. He was expecting defensiveness, maybe a little bit of anger. Instead, you sound...

Well, he can't really place it.

Crosshair nods, and he can feel his cheeks heat up. It's probably because he's angry. It has nothing to do with the way you're looking at him, the way your eyes rake over him, or the way your lips are curled up ever so slightly in a hint of a smile.

You clear your throat and gesture to the seat in front of you. He settles in it, not because you told him to, but because it seems like the polite thing to do. And because he wants to sit down.

Once he's seated, you fold your hands and place them on the desk, giving him your full attention. "I'm glad you're here."

That throws him. "You are?"

"Of course," you say, and the smile on your face is nothing short of dazzling. "I've been hoping to meet you for a while now. Omega speaks so highly of you, and I have to say, I was looking forward to finally meeting the man who's been helping her with her assignments."

And then, you do something Crosshair wasn't expecting. You extend your hand, offering a handshake.

He looks down at your hand, your fingers spread out, palm facing up. Your nails are painted a bright shade of pink, and there's a small smear of what looks like ink near the tip of your index finger. He glances up at your face, and you're smiling at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling a bit as you do.

His stomach does a weird flip, and his chest suddenly feels a lot warmer. He doesn't know what it is about your smile, your eyes, your voice, but it's...nice.

You're nice.

He doesn't take your hand.

You pull it away, but the smile doesn't leave your face. You don't seem offended or hurt, and you're still looking at him with an expression that can only be described as genuine kindness.

Crosshair swallows the lump in his throat. It's getting harder to stay angry, but he does his best to cling to his resolve.

"You graded her report wrong,” he hisses.

He expects you to get defensive, maybe even offended. After all, no one likes having their work challenged. But instead, you just sigh.

You look down at your desk, grabbing the stylus and twirling it between your fingers. The light reflects off the smooth surface, glinting off the tip of the tool, and the movement is almost hypnotic. He has to force himself to look away, to focus on your face.

For the first time since he barged into your classroom, he notices the tiredness in your eyes. It's subtle, and he doesn't think anyone else would notice, but the way your shoulders sag is a dead giveaway. You look exhausted, and Crosshair suddenly feels an odd pang of guilty for dropping in on you like this.

Your smile is tight when you look up at him again..

"I can explain my rationale, if you'd like," you say, and it's not a question. It's a statement.

He's not sure if he should be annoyed by that or not, but he nods regardless.

"Thank you."

You reach for a datapad laying haphazardly across your desk and tap away for a moment, before you hold it out for him to take. His fingers brush yours as he accepts it, and the touch sends a tingle up his arm. He tries not to show it, though, and busies himself by looking over the file as you speak.

"I know Omega has been struggling in my class, and I've done everything I can to make sure she has the support she needs. But, unfortunately, there's not a lot I can do when the curriculum is so..."

You pause, and he raises an eyebrow. "So what?"

"Well, it's not exactly tailored for her," you finish, and the small laugh you let out is strained. You shrug, a gesture that's supposed to be nonchalant, but he can see the tension in your shoulders.

He hums, nodding along as you continue to talk.

"I don't usually get students like Omega, you know? Kids who've already seen the world and have lived through so much more than their peers. And that's great, I mean, it's awesome. She's a brilliant kid, and she has such a great sense of herself, but I'm not equipped to handle a student like her."

Crosshair stops scrolling, his thumb hovering over the screen. He looks up at you, and you're staring back, chewing on your bottom lip.

He swallows the lump in his throat and nods. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means..." You trail off, letting out a sigh and shaking your head. You look away, turning to stare out the window behind you. The sun is setting, and the last rays of the day are reflecting off the buildings in the distance, bathing the room in an orange glow.

He watches the way the light illuminates your face, highlighting the curves and lines. It's not the first time he's found himself admiring the way someone looks, but it's the first time it's left him feeling like his heart's about to burst out of his chest.

It's not until you turn back to face him, the light fading, does he realize he's been holding his breath.

"I'm sorry, what was I saying?" you ask, and he's not sure if it's the lighting or his imagination, but he swears there's a faint flush creeping up your neck and cheeks.

"You were talking about the report," he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

You blink. "Oh, right. Of course." You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter, and Crosshair has to remind himself not to lean in. "I graded the report based on how she did against the curriculum."

"Which is stupid."

"Yeah, I know." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and Crosshair tracks the movement. "But it's how it works, unfortunately. We have a certain set of standards we have to abide by, and unfortunately, Omega's interpretation of the story was outside those standards."

"So? Her analysis is solid, and you know it," he says.

"It is," you agree, and the corner of your mouth twitches up into a half-smile. Your eyes are soft and full of understanding, and Crosshair has to look away.

"Her argument was well-researched, and her points were valid," you say, and it's with an apologetic tone. "But she also failed to follow directions."

Crosshair blinks.

That's not right.

"What?"

"She was asked to write a report on her thoughts and opinions on a classic work, and her interpretation of the story was excellent, but..."

"But what?" He knows he's being defensive, and he's not sure why, but the thought of you grading her unfairly, giving her a low score because of something that was his fault, makes his blood boil.

He takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, folding his arms and forcing himself to relax.

You don't seem bothered by his attitude, though. In fact, you just smile at him.

"Well, she did a wonderful job of explaining her interpretation, but she failed to stick to the author's original meaning," you explain. "And while I understand why she was interpreting the text the way she was, and I'm happy she's able to do that, she was asked to write a paper specifically about the author's intended meaning."

Crosshair doesn't respond. He stares at you, his lips pressed together, trying his hardest to stay calm.

He has to admit, it makes sense. You're just doing your job, and the fact that you're even taking the time to explain it to him is a testament to how hard you're trying. But that doesn't make the situation any easier, and the disappointment in Omega’s voice when she'd shown him her report earlier that day is still fresh in his mind.

"It doesn't change the fact that she's brilliant," you say, interrupting his train of thought.

He snaps his head up, staring at you, and the expression on your face is almost...tender. You're not just saying it to placate him, or to try and get him to leave. No, you mean it. He didn't realize just how much you cared about his sister, and he's taken aback by how sincere you are.

"Omega is an incredibly intelligent young woman, and I am in awe of her every day." You lean forward, your elbows resting on the desk. You're smiling, but there's a hint of sadness in your eyes, and the way you speak, the words that spill out of your mouth, are genuine. "I can't begin to imagine the things she's been through, and I know that's not an excuse for how difficult I've been, but I'm sorry. I really am."

The anger he'd been holding onto melts away, replaced by a strange mixture of pride and confusion. He's proud that you care so much about Omega, and confused by how much it seems to affect him. He'd expected you to be stubborn, maybe even rude. But this? This isn't anything like the image he'd conjured up in his mind.

It's...

Nice.

"So, what now?" he asks.

"Well," you start, and the smile on your face turns mischievous, "you're welcome to challenge my grade. You can go to the school board, or we can go to the principal's office. You could even submit a formal complaint, or—"

"No," he interrupts, and his cheeks flush when he realizes how fast the word came out. He clears his throat, trying to compose himself, and says, "I meant, what do we do? To help her?"

"Oh." You blink, clearly surprised.

He's not sure why. Does he come off as the type of person who would file a formal complaint over a grade?

Probably, actually.

"Right," you say, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts. "Well, there's not a lot we can do. This was her last chance to make up for her last test score, and I'm afraid she'll have to repeat the class next year."

"There has to be something you can do," he insists. The words fall out of his mouth before his brain catches up, and he's already cringing internally at how desperate he sounds.

"Look," you sigh. "You're not the first parent to come in here at the end of the semester and ask me to raise a grade. But, if I raised Omega's grade, then I would have to raise the grades of everyone else who turned in a similar report. And I can't do that."

"You can't be serious," he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"I am," you say, an edge to your voice. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Life's not fair."

"Yeah, no kidding." You huff a humorless laugh. Your lips purse, and he can tell you're holding back a glare.

He knows he's pushing his luck, and he's starting to feel like an idiot, but he can't help himself.

"You can't honestly tell me that there's nothing we can do."

Your eyes flicker away from his, and your gaze drifts down to the datapad. He can see your mind working, can see the gears turning as you mull over your options. You chew on your lower lip, and Crosshair tries not to stare, but it's a struggle.

He's never met someone who could have him going from angry to intrigued in the span of a few minutes, and he's not sure why he's so fixated on you. Maybe it's the way you're not afraid to stand your ground against him, or maybe it's the fact that you seem genuinely concerned about his sister's wellbeing. Or maybe it's just the way you look, with your bright eyes and kind smile, and the way you're clearly trying your best to make a difference.

Whatever it is, it's working.

"There is one thing," you say, after what feels like an eternity.

"What?"

You take a deep breath, as if bracing yourself, and meet his eyes.

"I can't raise her grade, but I could offer her some extra credit, if she'd like. It's not a guarantee, and I'd have to see her improvement before I decided to give her the points, but it's an option."

"Yes." The word slips out before he can stop himself, and he mentally curses at his own eagerness.

You arch an eyebrow.

"She'd like that." He clears his throat and forces himself to sound casual, unbothered. "If you're willing."

"Of course." You smile at him, and the warmth that spreads through his chest is...weird. But not unpleasant.

He's not sure what he did to deserve that look, that smile, but he decides he doesn't hate it.

"I'll tell her," he says, and he gets to his feet.

You stand as well, and the height difference between the two of you is not lost on him. He has to look down to meet your eyes, and the way you have to tilt your head up makes him feel strangely amused.

He's used to looking down at people, and most of the time, it makes him feel superior. But right now, he just feels...

Well, he doesn't really know how to describe it.

"Thanks," he says, and the word sounds foreign on his tongue. It's not something he's used to saying, especially to a stranger. He's not even sure what he's thanking you for, exactly, but it feels appropriate.

"You're welcome," you say, a grin on your face that's almost too wide, too bright, too much. "Oh, one more thing."

He hums, and you take a step closer around the desk. You're a foot or so away from him, close enough that he can smell the perfume you use, the floral scent filling his senses. He swallows hard and tries to ignore the way his pulse is racing.

You're not making this easy for him.

"We had a chaperone drop out last minute for the end of the year field trip," you explain. "If you have the time, would you be interested in helping me out? We're going to the spaceport museum."

Crosshair has no interest in a bunch of kids running around a museum, and he's about to decline, but the look on your face stops him.

The pleading look in your eyes, the way your eyebrows are knitted together, the slight pout of your lips. He knows what you're doing, and he doesn't like it. He's not the kind of man who caves to pretty girls asking him for favors, and he's definitely not going to cave now.

He's stronger than this. He can resist the urge. He's a trained soldier, a skilled marksman, and he's not about to give in to the will of a cute teacher.

He's stronger than this.

"I'll do it," he hears himself say.

Fuck.

"Perfect." Your eyes light up, and your smile widens. You're practically beaming, and it's like looking directly at the sun. "I'll send you the details. Thank you, Crosshair. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah," he says, struggling to think of a clever response, but coming up empty. He doesn't have a chance to say anything else before you're practically shoving him out the door.

When he turns back to face you, he sees you wave, and then the door is shut, and you're gone.

The silence of the hallways is suddenly too much, and he has to force himself to take a deep breath.

He's in trouble.

The trip is a nightmare.

It's not your fault. If anything, you've gone above and beyond to keep the kids in line. Crosshair's watched you run after them, chasing them through the exhibit and reminding them that they're not allowed to touch things. And, for the most part, the kids are well-behaved. There are a handful of them that seem to have a problem listening, but you've got the rest under control.

He has to hand it to you. It's impressive, and a little endearing, how hard you're trying. He knows you're exhausted, can see it in the way your shoulders sag when the kids start talking over you, can see it in the way you sigh when one of them pushes their way past you.

But the kids are bored, and he can't blame them. It's a pretty lame field trip, and he doesn't really understand the point of bringing them here. What is a museum, anyway, if not a place to look at cool, old ships?

So far, all they've done is look at boring, historical texts, and listen to you drone on about the importance of space travel and the role its played in storytelling throughout the galaxy.

The whole thing is dull, and he doesn't have the patience for this. He wants to go home and do literally anything else, and if he has to listen to one more kid whine about being bored, he's going to scream.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

Really, he's not bored.

In fact, he's quite the opposite.

He's fascinated.

It's the way you speak, the passion and excitement in your voice. He finds himself watching the way your lips move, the way your eyes sparkle with amusement. It's the same sparkle they had the other night, when he'd confronted you in the classroom. It's the same one that's been haunting him for the past week, and it's the reason why he's stuck here, in a crowded museum, surrounded by dozens of prepubescent teenagers, all while his brothers are back at home, probably having fun without him.

And, as if things weren't already bad enough, you're wearing the cutest outfit he's ever seen. It's a dress, the kind that flows down to your ankles, and it's got tiny flowers all over it. Your hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, tied back with a pink ribbon, and it swishes back and forth as you walk.

Crosshair's not usually one for dresses, and he's definitely not a fan of the color pink. But on you? It works.

It's almost unfair, really.

No, it's extremely unfair.

He's spent the entire day stealing glances at you, trying his best not to be obvious, and Omega is catching onto him. She keeps smirking at him, her eyes narrowed, and he's pretty sure she's been teasing him. He'll get caught staring at you, and she'll elbow him in the ribs and wink at him.

It's annoying, and he hates it.

Not as much as he hates himself, though.

Because he knows better. He knows it's wrong, knows it's stupid, and yet, he can't seem to stop himself.

And the worst part is, you don't even seem to notice. You're so busy trying to keep the kids in check, to keep them from causing a scene, that you're not paying any attention to him. He's grateful for that, because he's not sure how he'd handle the embarrassment.

But, at the same time, he wishes you would look at him. Just once. Just a quick glance, a tiny smile, a small nod. Something.

He sighs.

It's been a long day, and he's tired.

He's standing near the entrance, keeping an eye on the group of students, Omega included. They're currently huddled around a holoexhibit, and he watches as you answer their questions and explain the significance of each ship. You have the patience of a saint, and he has no idea how you do it. The questions they're asking are ridiculous, and a few of them are just flat out wrong.

Crosshair's tempted to go over and tell them how stupid they are, to get them to give you a break, but he refrains. He's not supposed to be getting involved, after all. This is your job, and he's just here to make sure the kids stay safe.

But he's not about to let them cause a scene.

A flash of metal catches his attention, and he frowns. One of the kids, a Rodian, is standing on a platform, and his hand is hovering over a lever. Crosshair doesn't need to read the label to know what the kid is thinking. He's been watching this one eye this exact display all morning, and he's been waiting for him to finally get brave enough to try his luck.

The kid reaches out, and before he can touch the lever, Crosshair strides across the room. He grabs his wrist, his grip firm, and pulls his hand away. The Rodian squawks in surprise, and Crosshair glares down at him. He's not tall, not for a Rodian, and it's easy for Crosshair to loom over him.

"Don't touch that," he growls.

"I-I wasn't gonna," the kid stammers, and his eyes dart towards the exit. He looks ready to bolt, and Crosshair would find it funny if it weren't for the way the rest of the kids are staring at him.

"Bullshit."

"Language," you scold, and Crosshair turns his head to see you approaching him, an exasperated look on your face. You have your hands on your hips, and you look like you're ready to lecture him instead of the kid who was about to activate the simulator without permission.

He raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you.

"You shouldn't swear in front of children," you say, your tone matter-of-fact.

"Well, maybe they shouldn't touch shit that's not theirs," he retorts, and he shoots the kid a pointed look.

"Crosshair!"

You're glaring at him now, and he knows he should feel bad, but he doesn't. He can't. Your cheeks are flushed, and your brows are furrowed, and you're trying so hard to look stern and serious, but it's not working. He's not sure why, but seeing you angry is a lot more appealing than it should be.

It makes him want to push your buttons.

"If I catch you touching this again, I'll throw you out," he warns the kid, and he lets go of his wrist. "Got it?"

The kid nods, and then he's dashing back to the rest of the group, a look of fear on his face.

"What is wrong with you?" you demand, and Crosshair looks down at you, fighting the urge to smirk. You're still glaring at him, but the flush on your cheeks is a shade darker now, and he can't help but feel a little proud of himself.

"I'm just doing my job," he says, and the smirk he'd been fighting is making its way onto his face now.

Your eyes widen. "Your job is to make sure the kids are safe, not threaten them."

"I wasn't threatening him," he scoffs.

"Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you—"

"Okay, fine, maybe I was. A little," he admits, and you shake your head, a huff escaping you. The glare falls away, and the look on your face is softer now, a little less annoyed, and a lot more amused.

"I had it handled," you tell him, and there's a hint of teasing in your tone now, too.

"Yeah, it looked like it."

"Crosshair," you warn, but the corners of your lips are twitching upwards, betraying the seriousness of your voice.

"What? I'm just trying to help," he says, and the shrug he gives is a little more smug than it should be.

Crosshair isn't trying to antagonize you, not really. He's just...testing the waters, he supposes. Seeing how far he can push you, seeing how much you can take before you crack, and he has to admit that you're holding up pretty well so far. Most people would've told him off, or stormed off by now, but not you.

No, you're still here.

You're standing in front of him, your arms folded across your chest, trying your very best not to smile at him.

You're enjoying this.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut, and he has to force himself to breathe normally. He's not sure why that's such a revelation, but it is. You're enjoying his company, enjoying the back-and-forth, and it makes him feel lighter than air.

"Are you always this much of an ass?" you ask, and his eyes widen at the sudden vulgarity, but he recovers quickly. He likes it, actually. The bluntness, the honesty. It's refreshing, and a lot more than he expected from you.

Crosshair smirks. "Now who's swearing in front of children?"

"They're not paying attention."

"Oh, right, because the exhibit on the history of intergalactic trade is so exciting," he says, and you snort, shaking your head.

"Yeah, you're not wrong," you admit, and he chuckles.

"I know."

"Of course you do," you mutter sarcastically. But, the annoyance has faded, and there's a smile on your face as you turn to look at the kids, so Crosshair considers it a win.

You stand there, next to him, your arms folded, and you watch as the kids slowly make their way through the exhibit. They're talking among themselves, completely oblivious to the exchange between the two of you. It's a bit of a relief, because he's not sure what they would make of the fact that he's flirting with their teacher.

Is he flirting?

No, that's not right.

He's not flirting.

He's just being...friendly. He's just making conversation, and there's nothing wrong with that. It's not his fault that you're easy to talk to.

Omega is the only one looking in his direction, and he doesn't miss the grin on her face. He shoots her a look, a warning, and she winks at him. He glares, and she sticks her tongue out.

Great.

He's definitely going to hear about this later.

"You're not exactly what I was expecting," you say quietly.

Crosshair looks back at you, his heart skipping a beat when he realizes just how close you are. You're standing next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and you're looking up at him, the same sparkle in your eyes as before. There’s a hint of a smile on your lips, and you seem...pleased.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asks, and he's almost afraid to know the answer.

"A good thing, of course." You nudge him playfully with your elbow, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity up his arm. "I'm glad I was wrong."

"Yeah, me too."

You laugh at that, and he smiles, more than a little pleased with himself. It's an unexpected, but pleasant, reaction, and he finds himself wanting to make you laugh again.

"Anyway," you say, taking a step back. "Thanks for keeping the kids in line. I really appreciate it."

He shrugs. "It's nothing."

"No, really." You look up at him, your eyes bright, and you give him a sympathetic smile. "I know this isn't exactly what you signed up for."

"It's not so bad."

You raise an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

"I mean, it's boring as hell," he admits, and the way your nose scrunches up as you laugh is adorable. He clears his throat and tries to focus. "But it's not awful. The company's...bearable."

You tilt your head to the side, and your eyes narrow. "Thanks, I think."

"Don't mention it."

"So," you start, a slight hesitation in your voice, "does this mean you're not going to file a complaint against me?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Crosshair teases. The way your eyes widen is enough to make him chuckle. "But I guess I can let it slide. For now."

"For now," you repeat, and you let out a breath. You shake your head and look up at him, the ghost of a smile on your lips. "Well, I'll take it. Now, let's get back to the kids, shall we?"

"After you," he says, gesturing for you to lead the way.

He follows after you, and he tries his best not to stare at the sway of your hips as you walk. He fails, but only a little bit.

And, if he catches you glancing back at him every so often, well, he's not complaining.

Omega is practically bouncing on her heels as they make their way down the street, heading home from the school. She's talking a mile a minute, her eyes bright, and she's still somehow full of energy despite the long day they've had. Crosshair can't quite keep up with her, and he's having trouble focusing on her words. He has no idea how you manage to do this every day, and he feels a little bad for thinking that teaching is an easy job.

She's going on about the trip, how much fun she had, and she's not slowing down. Crosshair doesn't mind, though. He's content to listen to her, and he's not going to stop her from gushing about her day. He does the same thing for her he’s always done for Tech, humming and nodding in the right places, and he knows that it makes her feel good to talk.

Besides, he's too distracted by his own thoughts to focus on what she's saying.

He's spent the last hour replaying the events of the day in his mind, trying to make sense of everything. The way you'd looked at him, the way you'd laughed, the way you'd teased him. It's all a little overwhelming, and he's not sure how to process it.

Crosshair isn't the kind of person who gets all worked up over a pretty girl. He’s not even the kind of person who gets all worked up, period.

But something about you, the way you carry yourself, the way you smile, the way you look at him. It's different.

You're different.

He doesn't know what to do with that information, and he's not sure he likes it. For all he knows, you're just being nice, just trying to be polite so he doesn’t give you a hard time. It wouldn't be the first time someone's done that.

Crosshair has been told his whole life that he's difficult to deal with, and he's learned to live with that. He's used to people being afraid of him, and he's used to people not wanting to be around him. He used to take pride in the fact that people were scared of him, but lately, it's started to wear on him.

Maybe it's because of his brothers, the way they've started to change, the way they've become softer. Or maybe it's because of Omega, the way she looks up to him, the way she trusts him, the way she thinks he's capable of great things.

Either way, he can't deny that he's a little lonely.

And maybe a little curious.

"Crosshair," Omega says, and the sharpness in her voice catches his attention. She's stopped walking, and she's giving him a look, her eyes narrowed. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" He blinks, and then he frowns. "Yeah, of course."

"Then, what did I just say?" she challenges, her hands on her hips, her head tilted up.

He pauses, and then sighs. "No, not really."

"I knew it!" she exclaims, throwing her hands up. "You were totally spacing out."

"I was not."

"Yes, you were," she argues, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Really? Because you look like you're thinking about something."

"Nope," he lies. Crosshair turns his head away from her, pretending to look at something else. There's a few vendors pulling in their stands in front of them, closing up for the evening, and he watches them, trying to avoid Omega's gaze. The florist is packing up his display, and the bright, colorful flowers draw his attention. He tries to ignore the fact that they remind him of your dress.

"Are you sure? You seem...weird."

"I'm fine."

"Are you thinking about the field trip?" she asks, and he can hear the smugness in her voice. "About Miss—"

"Omega." He snaps his head back towards her, his eyes wide, and he gives her a warning look.

"What?" she says, feigning innocence, and he groans.

"Just drop it," he mutters, and he turns to keep walking.

"I can't," she says, following after him. She has to jog slightly to keep up with his hurried pace, but it does nothing to deter her. "You like her."

"Of course I like her. She’s nice,” he replies. His tone comes out more defensive than casual, and he grimaces internally.

"No, you really like her."

Crosshair opens his mouth, ready to defend himself. There's no way that's true. It's impossible. He barely knows you, and you're just his sister's teacher.

Just a pretty, sweet, kind teacher who cares about her students and isn't afraid to push the boundaries to help them learn. Who didn't back down when he challenged her, and didn't hesitate to stand her ground when he was being an ass.

Who smiles at him and looks at him like he's worth something, like he's important, like he matters. Who laughs at his pathetic attempts at humor and makes him feel like he's not a complete waste of space, like maybe there's something worthwhile inside of him after all. Like maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for him.

Shit.

He shakes his head. "You're crazy."

"Am not," she insists, and she skips in front of him, forcing him to stop. "I won't tell anyone."

"Omega—"

"You know, she's single," she continues with a knowing, smug grin, and it reminds him so much of Hunter that he has to take a deep breath and count to ten before he can speak again. And even then, he's still annoyed.

"How the hell do you know that?" he demands, his eyebrows raised.

"I overheard her talking to the other teachers during lunch," she explains, and the smugness fades, replaced by a sheepish smile.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop," he chastises, though he's a little too preoccupied with the new information to put much force behind the words.

"I didn't mean to," she says with a shrug. "I was looking for her, and I found her, and they were talking about her, so..."

"So, what else did you hear?" he asks, trying his best to sound disinterested.

"Nothing."

"Omega," he warns.

"I didn't hear anything!" she insists, her eyes wide. After a beat, a smirk forms on her face, and her eyes narrow. "Why? Did you want to know something else?"

"No," he snaps, a little too quickly. "Just forget it."

"But—"

"It's not important," he says, cutting her off as he steps around her and continues walking. He hears her groan in frustration, and he smirks to himself. Serves her right.

"Wait!" She hurries after him, her hands gripping the strap of her bag tightly as she catches up. She's practically running now, trying her best to match his long strides, and her breathing is a little heavier than normal. "Crosshair, slow down."

"No."

She huffs. "I'm just saying—"

"Omega, enough."

"I think she likes you, too."

Crosshair stops walking abruptly, and Omega almost collides with him. He turns his head towards her, his eyebrows raised, and she takes a step back.

"What makes you say that?" he asks. He knows he's being foolish, letting her bait him like this, but he can't help himself. The hopeful note in her voice is hard to ignore, and he's suddenly feeling a lot more optimistic than he should.

"Because she kept looking at you," she explains.

"No, she didn't."

"Yes, she did," she argues. "She was looking at you, like, the entire time. The whole trip. I'm surprised you didn't notice."

"You're exaggerating," he mutters, trying to hide the flush in his cheeks.

"I'm not," she says, shaking her head. "I was keeping track."

"You know, if you paid half as much attention to your schoolwork as you do to gossiping, neither of us would be in this mess," he retorts.

"Hey! That's not true," Omega pouts. "I learned everything I need to know about intergalactic trade from Tech. I'm good."

Crosshair can't help but smile at that, and Omega grins back at him. They start walking again, this time a little slower, and she reaches for his hand, grabbing hold of his fingers.

"But you like her, right?" she asks, tilting her head up at him.

"She's...nice," he admits, and the look on her face tells him that's not enough. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck with his prosthetic hand. "I don't know. Maybe."

"You should ask her out."

"Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea," he mutters, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I barely know her."

"So? Just get to know her," Omega says, and he sighs.

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Crosshair hesitates, trying to think of a reason. The truth is, he's never really had to deal with this kind of situation. He's not exactly the best when it comes to social interactions, and his history with romantic relationships is...limited. It's not something he's ever bothered to think about, but now that it's staring him in the face, he feels woefully unprepared.

"What if she says no?"

"Well, what if she says yes?"

Crosshair doesn't respond. If he's being honest, he hadn't even considered the possibility of you saying yes. He'd been so focused on the negative outcome, the embarrassment, the awkwardness, that he'd completely forgotten about the other side of the equation. What if you did say yes? What would he do then? Would he be happy? Relieved? Or would he be even more nervous than before?

"I don't know," he finally admits.

"You should ask her," Omega urges. "At least, think about it."

"Maybe," he says, and she frowns, clearly not satisfied with the answer. He sighs, and then gives her hand a squeeze. "I'll think about it."

"Okay," she grumbles, and the two of them continue walking, falling into a comfortable silence. It's quiet between them all the way to the front door, and he's almost home free, his hand hovering over the sensor pad, when Omega speaks up.

"I'm just saying," she starts, and he groans, "you should go for it."

"I'm done having this conversation," he grumbles as he tugs her inside, slamming the door behind him. He can hear voices coming from the kitchen, and he freezes, holding fast to her wrist.

"You have to promise not to tell them."

"Okay, okay, I promise," she says, rolling her eyes, and she tugs her arm away.

"No, not okay," he says. "If you tell them, I'll kill you."

"Okay, fine," she huffs, and he narrows his eyes at her.

"I'm serious," he says, his tone low, threatening. It doesn't work on Omega, not anymore, and she just looks up at him, unbothered.

"So am I."

"Fine." Crosshair sighs, deflating, and then, before he can stop himself, the words are spilling out. "So, what do I do?"

Omega's face lights up, a grin so wide it nearly splits her face in two, and he regrets the question almost instantly. "I'll help you."

"What?"

"I'll help you," she repeats.

"You're kidding," he deadpans.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I have a great idea. Trust me."

"Omega—"

"I promise, you won't regret it," she says, and then, she's gone, dashing off towards the kitchen where Hunter and Wrecker are arguing about dinner.

Crosshair watches her go, and then, with a groan, he drags his hand over his face.

What has he gotten himself into?

The next few weeks are a blur. Omega's been keeping him busy, asking him to help her with homework, walking her to and from school, and the whole time, he's wondering when she's going to bring up her big plan.

She managed to get a score high enough on her extra credit in your class to pull her grade up, and Hunter nearly fell over when he found out. You'd sent a letter home with her, letting them know how impressed you were, and both Hunter and Wrecker wouldn't shut up about it for days. Omega's been bragging about it, too, and Crosshair's heard her go on about how smart and amazing and brilliant and perfect you are, over and over again.

She hasn't brought up her big plan again, though, and Crosshair's grateful. She has, however, started dropping hints here and there, meddling in ways that she shouldn't, and it's getting old, fast.

He's already had to stop her from inviting you over for dinner, twice, and he's not sure how much longer he can keep her from blowing his cover. More than once, Omega's forgotten her datapad at home, and he's had to drop everything to run it to the school. It's a pain in the ass, but at least it gives him an excuse to see you.

And he sees you, a lot more than he should.

He tries not to get too excited about it, tries not to think too hard about what it means, but it's impossible. Omega's made it her mission to get the two of you alone together, and he can't help but feel a bit like a pawn in her scheme, one that she refuses to share with him. Not that it matters, because it's working.

You're talking to him.

In fact, the two of you have spent so much time together over the last few weeks, that it's almost weird when he doesn't see you. Every morning, when he drops Omega off at school, he makes sure to walk her inside. You're always there, and he doesn't miss the way you look up when the door opens or the way you smile when you see him. You're usually sitting at your desk, grading papers, or helping a student, and he's quick to leave before anyone notices how long he's standing there.

But every once in a while, when he's lucky, you're standing at the front of the room, and the two of you are able to exchange a few words. It's nothing too special, and it's not as if you're exchanging life stories or anything, but it's enough. It's more than he could've hoped for, and it's better than the alternative, which is absolutely nothing. He even brought you coffee one day, after you'd stayed late to work on a project with Omega, and you'd blushed.

Blushed.

For him.

Crosshair would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed that. It's nice, having someone to talk to, and it's nice, being able to see you smile. Even if it's only for a minute or two, and even if his brothers are constantly giving him shit for it.

He's not an idiot. He knows they're all watching him, waiting to see how this plays out, and he's doing his best not to give them any ammunition. Omega's already told him, several times, that they're rooting for him, and he's not sure how to feel about that. The last thing he needs is everyone butting into his business, and he's hoping that Omega will keep her word and keep her mouth shut.

He's not going to say anything, not until he's absolutely sure. And, even then, he'll probably wait. The only problem is, he's almost certain he's run out of time.

Crosshair has been keeping a mental countdown, counting down the days until Omega's finished with school, and it's come up a lot sooner than he'd expected. The semester is over, and it's officially summer vacation, which means you're no longer Omega's teacher. And with that, comes an end to whatever small shred of hope he'd had that something might happen, that whatever plan Omega had in mind would work, and the two of you would end up together.

Which is fine.

Really, it's fine.

He's not hurt. He's not disappointed. He's not anything. He doesn't care, not one bit, and he definitely isn't sulking, not at all, because that would be ridiculous.

It's just a crush. A silly, stupid, fleeting thing, and it's not worth getting upset about. It's not like anything would've happened between the two of you. You're way out of his league, and he knows that.

But still.

He can't deny that he misses the daily interaction, the brief exchanges, the occasional smiles. He can't deny that he'd enjoyed it, and now that it's over, he feels a little lost.

He jumped at the chance to go to the summer festival with everyone, partly because he didn't want to be home alone, and partly because he was hoping to run into you there. Which is stupid, and foolish, and pathetic, but he can't help himself. He'd overheard you telling Omega that you'd be there, and it's the closest thing he has to a sign, and so, he's taking it.

Besides, Hunter practically ordered him to go, so it's not like he had a choice.

So, here he is, standing off to the side, watching the rest of the family enjoying themselves. It's still early, and the real festivities won't begin until the sun starts to set, but everyone is already in a good mood. He tries his best not to ruin it with his attitude, but he knows he's doing a shitty job of it, and it doesn't help that they're teasing him relentlessly.

"You're moping."

Crosshair sighs and rolls his eyes as Hunter bumps him with his elbow. He's been standing next to him, staring out into the crowd, and he doesn't turn his head when his brother speaks.

"No, I'm not," he replies.

"Yes, you are," Hunter says. He takes a sip of his drink, and then, nudges him again. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Shut up," Crosshair grumbles, and he elbows him back, a little harder than necessary. Some of Hunter’s drink spills, and he feels a small flash of satisfaction.

"Ow."

"Leave me alone," he says, and Hunter snorts.

"No, I'm not gonna do that," Hunter says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's too easy."

Crosshair groans, and turns his head away, trying his best to ignore him. It doesn't work.

"Come on, just ask her out," Hunter urges, and Crosshair glares at him.

He can hear Wrecker snickering behind him, and when he turns around, the look on his face tells him everything he needs to know. He must've been listening in the whole time.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Hunter continues.

"I could make an idiot out of myself," Crosshair replies.

"So? You already do that every day," Wrecker jokes, and he winces when Hunter smacks him.

"Not helping," Hunter mutters, and Wrecker just shrugs.

"Look," Hunter says, turning back towards him, "if she says no, at least you'll know, and you can stop worrying about it."

Crosshair doesn't respond, too caught up in the sight of you weaving your way through the crowd. You're wearing a sundress, a cute little thing that ends just above your knees, and a flower crown sitting atop of your head, and he can't take his eyes off of you.

You're walking with Omega's art teacher, a Rutian Twi’Lek laden with jewelry, talking and gesturing animatedly. She has her hands full with decorations for the festival, and you're trying to help, but she keeps shooing you away. He can see the pout on your face, and he can't help but smile, just a little, and then you turn your head and catch Crosshair staring.

He doesn't have time to look away.

He doesn't even have time to try.

Instead, he watches, frozen, as your eyes lock with his. Your face lights up, a bright smile on your lips, and you wave at him. He feels his hand lift in acknowledgement despite himself, and he can't stop the way his lips quirk up into a half-smile.

He can see Omega trailing after the two of you, a stack of posters in her hands, and she's saying something, but he can't hear her. The only thing he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears, and the only thing he can see is you, your face flushed, and a look in your eyes that's far too soft for him to know what to do with.

"Wow," Hunter says, breaking the spell, and he blinks, the image of you in front of him fading, replaced by his brother's annoying smirk.

"What?"

"I knew you liked her, but I didn't know it was this bad," Hunter says.

"Oh, come on," Wrecker teases, a big grin spreading across his face. "He's in love."

Crosshair can't stop the growl of frustration that leaves him, and the sound makes his brothers laugh. He wants to shove them, or punch them, or something, but he doesn't have the chance.

You’re walking over.

You're heading in their direction, and Crosshair panics, unsure of what to do. He doesn't know how to be anything other than aloof and rude, and he's afraid he'll say something stupid and embarrass himself. He doesn't want to mess this up, and he's terrified he'll ruin everything if he says the wrong thing.

He looks at Hunter, a desperate plea in his eyes, but his brother is no help. Instead, he just smirks and shrugs, nudging Wrecker.

"We should go check on Omega," he says, his tone is casual. "C'mon, Wrecker."

Wrecker doesn't argue, and he doesn't hesitate, following Hunter without a word. Before he can blink, they're gone, and it's just the two of you. Crosshair's not sure if it's better or worse.

"Hi," you say, your voice soft as you come to a stop in front of him.

Your cheeks are flushed, and you're fidgeting. He finds it endearing, and the fact that you're just as flustered as he is makes him feel a little bit better.

"Hey," he says, his voice coming out a bit raspier than he'd intended. He clears his throat, and then nods towards your companion. "Are you having fun?"

You tilt your head and look back over your shoulder, and Crosshair doesn't miss the slight roll of your eyes.

"Yeah, I'm having a blast," you deadpan, and he can't help but laugh. He's grown used to your particular brand of sarcasm over the past few weeks, the kind that only seems to come out when he's around, and he's come to enjoy the way it sounds when it's aimed at someone else.

"Don't worry," he says, "we can be miserable together."

"Well, that's not very festive," you reply, and there's a teasing edge to your voice. "What did the festival ever do to you?"

"Nothing, I just don't like people."

"Fair enough," you say with a laugh. "So, what brings you here?"

"Omega."

"Ah." You nod, and a soft smile forms on your face. "Of course. She told me you'll be helping us out later. Thanks, by the way."

Crosshair raises an eyebrow.

This is news to him.

"Uh, yeah," he says slowly, his eyes narrowing. "What did she say, exactly?"

"She said you'd be helping with the games." You tilt your head and look up at him, confusion in your eyes. "Is that...not true?"

He stares back at you, unsure of what to say. He's never agreed to anything like that, and the idea of working with children is...unappealing, to say the least. He can't imagine why Omega would've said that.

The realization hits him, and his eyes widen.

That little brat.

She set him up.

She's been planning this, and he was too distracted with moping to realize it. He'd let her walk all over him, and now, he's going to have to play along. Because there's no way in hell he's going to tell you the truth, not now, not when you're looking up at him, expectant and hopeful.

"Yeah, no," he lies, shaking his head. "She's right. I'll be there."

"Great," you say, and he's pretty sure you actually mean it. "I'm running the scavenger hunt. And, if you wanted, I could use a partner."

Crosshair blinks, brain stuttering over the word partner, and he must look like an idiot, because you start to backtrack.

"But, you probably have better things to do. I'm sure there's someone else who would love to help. I just thought—"

"No, no, I'll help," he interrupts, and you stop, giving him a grateful look.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Your smile is so bright, so radiant, that it makes his heart ache. He can't remember the last time someone was this happy to spend time with him. He's not used to feeling wanted, and the knowledge that you enjoy his company fills him with a sense of pride he's not quite prepared for.

"But," he starts, his eyebrows raised, "you owe me."

"I know, I know," you say with a laugh. "Anything you want."

"I'm serious," he insists, though the smirk on his face betrays his words. "I'm doing this under duress. I'm being held against my will."

"I'll make it worth your while," you tease, and the way your eyes flash, the playful look in them, is almost enough to make him forget how to breathe. He tries not to focus on it, tries not to dwell on the way his mind immediately goes to some very interesting places, but it's a losing battle. He's sure his cheeks are red, and the knowing look in your eyes doesn't help.

"Uh," he says, his voice strangled, and he has to clear his throat again before he can continue. "Good.”

"Good," you repeat, and the smile on your face turns shy. You take a step back, and then another, and the look in your eyes is...different, softer, and a little more vulnerable. It makes his stomach twist. "Well, I should probably go. But, I'll see you later, right?"

He nods, and you grin. You wave goodbye and walk away, and Crosshair watches you go, a small smile on his face. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes at himself, but he can't stop smiling. It's a dumb thing to be happy about, but it's nice, knowing that you're looking forward to seeing him. And the way you'd looked at him, the hopeful look in your eyes, the shyness, the blush on your cheeks. He can't stop thinking about it.

It's just a crush, and it'll go away eventually. It's just a silly little thing, and it'll fade away. You'll be gone, and he'll be left behind, and everything will go back to normal. He'll get over it.

But, as he stands there, watching you laugh and smile and talk to the others, the sight of you making him feel things that he's not quite ready to admit, he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he doesn't want it to.

By the time the sun sets, the courtyard is packed. The vendors have all set up their stalls, the games have begun, and the music is blaring. Crosshair stays close to Wrecker, using his bulk to help him avoid the crowds, and does his best to ignore the children running around. Wrecker's not much help. He keeps wandering off, getting distracted by the food or the games, and Crosshair is left to wander around alone.

It's not all bad, though.

He's able to keep an eye on Omega, and that's enough to keep him occupied. He knows she can take care of herself, but it's hard for him to relax when she's not within eyesight. And, every once in a while, you catch his eye. You're busy, running from place to place, and he knows that you don't have time to stop and chat, but the small, shy smiles that you give him are enough to put him at ease.

It's a nice distraction, and it helps him stay focused, which is a good thing. Because, before he knows it, it's time for the scavenger hunt. Omega drags him over to the table where you’re waiting, and he can't help but smile at the enthusiasm in your voice.

"I'm so glad you could make it," you say, and the look in your eyes tells him that you really mean it.

At his side, Omega looks far too proud of herself. Crosshair narrows his eyes at her, and she gives him a toothy grin in return.

"Me too," he mutters, and you laugh.

"Come on," you say, grabbing a basket from the table. "Let's get started."

Crosshair nods, and he stands back as you hand out datapads and explain rules to the crowd that’s formed around them. He's not paying attention. He's watching you, listening to your voice, enjoying the way you look in the light of Pabu’s setting sun, and it's a nice moment. That is, until Omega elbows him, and he startles.

"What?"

“She likes you," she whispers conspiratorially, her hand cupped over her mouth.

"Shut up," he hisses.

Omega giggles, and he glares at her, but it does nothing to wipe the smirk from her face.

"I'm not talking to you," he growls.

"Yeah, you are," she says, her voice laced with amusement. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Before he can say anything, you announce that the scavenger hunt has started, and the kids are off. Omega joins the crowd, and soon, she's lost among the swarm of children running past them. Crosshair watches her go, his eyebrows furrowed, and then, he turns his attention to you.

You're smiling, waving at the kids, and he can't take his eyes off of you. This was a bad idea. He should've said no. He should've done something, anything, but instead, he'd let himself get roped into helping, and now, he's standing here, watching you, wishing he had the courage to just say something, and it's driving him crazy.

"Thanks again for helping," you say, turning towards him, and he startles, caught off guard.

"Uh, yeah, no problem," he replies. "I was going to be here anyway."

"Yeah, Omega mentioned that."

Crosshair nods, and the two of you settle into an awkward silence. He shifts on his feet, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he stares out into the crowd. You're quiet beside him, and the longer the silence lasts, the more uncomfortable he becomes.

It's not like you to be so quiet. Usually, you're chatting his ear off, asking him questions, trying to get him to open up, and the fact that you haven't said a word is concerning. You’re shuffling datapads and small trinkets around as if looking for something to keep yourself busy, and he's starting to wonder if he's done something wrong.

He's trying not to worry about it, but the longer the silence stretches, the more his mind races. He knows he's overthinking, and the more he thinks about it, the more anxious he becomes.

It's just a crush, he reminds himself.

He doesn't want anything from you. He doesn't need anything from you. He doesn't expect anything from you. But, as he stands there, trying not to dwell on the way his heart is racing, the way his stomach is twisting, the way his breath catches in his throat, he can't help but feel like a bit of an idiot.

He can't help but wonder if you've figured him out.

Maybe you know, and that's why you're acting so strange. Maybe you can tell, and you're waiting for him to make the first move. Maybe you're nervous, or maybe, you just don't want him to say anything, because you don't feel the same way, and that's why you're keeping your distance. He knows that's a long shot, but it doesn't stop his brain from fixating on the thought. He can't help but think about how much worse it'll be if you do know.

So, he stands there, and the silence stretches on, tension thick in the air as you cast glances at each other.

It's not until a couple of kids come up and ask for help with the next clue that the tension breaks.

The two of them are young, maybe eight or nine, and they're struggling. They're a cute pair, brother and sister, and they remind him a lot of his siblings. Their parents are nowhere in sight, and they're arguing, bickering, and it’s not until you crouch down to speak to them, taking the datapad from the boy's hands, that they calm down. You explain the next clue to them, and Crosshair watches as the siblings nod, their faces lighting up with understanding.

He wants to keep watching you, but a second pair of kids approach, and then a third. He can see you’re starting to get overwhelmed, and so he picks up a datapad and gets to work.

Soon, the two of you have a rhythm. You help the younger kids while he helps the older ones, and the system seems to work. He finds himself enjoying the task, and he doesn't even realize that an hour has passed until the scavenger hunt is over and the sun has nearly set. The two of you gather up the datapads, and the kids line up in front of the table, ready to receive their prize.

They're all so excited, and they're smiling and laughing and cheering, and it's a nice sight. Crosshair has never been the biggest fan of children, but these ones aren’t so bad.

He doesn't even realize that he's smiling until Omega runs back over to him, her arms outstretched, and she flings herself at him. She grabs hold of his waist, and she squeezes him tight.

"Thanks for helping," she says, her voice muffled, and he has to swallow past the lump in his throat.

"No problem," he replies as she lets go. She's still grinning at him, her eyes bright, and he can't help but reach out and ruffle her hair. "How'd you do?"

"I won," she boasts and slaps his hand away, and he rolls his eyes, unable to keep from smirking.

"Of course you did."

"It wasn't easy," Omega continues, her eyebrows raising as she speaks slowly. "But I had a great partner."

Crosshair sighs, and he gives her a knowing look, which she ignores.

“Don’t screw this up,” she whispers, and then, before he can say anything, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the others.

You're still sitting at the table, and he takes a moment to compose himself before heading over. You're organizing the datapads, sorting them into a bag, and he takes a seat next to you.

"Thanks for the help," you say, and he nods, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Not a problem."

"You did a good job," you tell him. He ducks his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as you continue, “You’re good with them.”

"Well, you're welcome," he says, his voice low. "I have a lot of practice dealing with little brats."

You laugh, and the sound makes his heart swell. You continue sorting the datapads, and he watches you work, his eyes trailing over your features. It's not until you clear your throat that he realizes how long he's been staring.

"So, um," he begins, trying not to think too hard about the fact that he's been caught. "I was thinking..."

You look up. "Yeah?"

"You owe me."

"Huh?"

"You said anything I want," he explains, and the confusion on your face clears.

"Right," you reply, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. You stop what you’re doing and turn to face him fully. "And what would that be?"

"Dinner.”

"Dinner?" you repeat, your eyebrows raised, and he nods.

"With me."

"Are you asking me on a date, Crosshair?"

"Yeah," he says, and his heart leaps into his throat when your eyes light up. "I'm asking you on a date."

"Oh," you say, a soft smile on your lips, and he can't help but mirror it. "Well, how could I say no?"

"Great," he replies, and then, after a pause, he asks, "is that a yes?"

"Yes, of course it's a yes,” you chuckle. You shake your head, and then, a teasing smile forms on your face. "Did you think I was gonna say no?"

"Uh," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was prepared for it."

You snort, and the laughter that follows is almost enough to distract him from the way his cheeks are burning. Almost. He looks away, embarrassed, but he can't help but smile.

"Sorry," you say, stifling your laughter, and he shrugs.

"It's fine."

"No, no, I'm not laughing at you," you say. You're biting your lip, trying to stop yourself from smiling, and his eyes narrow. "It's just..."

"What?"

"This whole time," you begin, and you have to bite back another laugh. "I've been trying to figure out how to ask you out."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah," you admit, and the shy smile on your face is almost too much for him to handle. He can't believe what he's hearing. "I've been waiting for an excuse to spend some time alone with you, but I couldn't think of anything. So, when Omega mentioned you'd be helping out, I figured it would be my chance."

Crosshair shakes his head, trying to process the words. It's a lot to take in. You've been trying to ask him out? All this time, he's been wondering, worrying, and it was all for nothing? You've wanted this, too?

"Oh," is all he can manage, and it's enough to make you laugh again.

"Yeah."

He doesn't know what to say, so he stays silent. You shift next to him, and you place your hand on his arm, the contact sending sparks through his skin. Your touch is light, but it makes his breath catch, and he doesn't miss the way you smile at his reaction.

“So, do you want to watch the fireworks with me?” you ask, your voice soft.

"Yeah, sure," he says. He's trying not to let his excitement show, but judging by the grin on your face, he's not doing a very good job of it.

"Good."

He's expecting you to let go of his arm, but instead, you slide your hand down, and your fingers brush against his, a subtle gesture that makes his heart race. He turns his hand palm up, and you slide yours into it, your touch warm and gentle. His fingers curl around yours, and the smile on your face makes him feel bold.

Crosshair stands, pulling you up with him, and the two of you walk to the edge of the courtyard, hand in hand. It’s quiet now, save for the music playing over the speakers and the soft murmur of conversation, and the sky is dark. There are only a few people left nearby, mostly parents picking up their children, and no one pays the two of you any mind. You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back, a smile forming on his face.

You lead him down a set of steps, and the two of you make your way towards a spot overlooking the bay. The breeze is cool, and the smell of salt fills the air. Without the lanterns and torches and strings of lights, it's dark, and he can just barely see your face, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon.

There’s a tree behind you, and it offers a bit of privacy, and the two of you settle against it, sitting on the grass. He can see the bay spread out in front of them, and the waves crashing on the beach, a steady rhythm that helps slow his racing heartbeat.

He's still holding your hand, and he gives it another squeeze. You lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder, and the two of you watch as the fireworks begin. The explosions are loud, and bright, and colorful, and you point out the best ones, and the ones that remind you of him, and the ones that make you laugh. And, as the fireworks continue, as the colors fill the sky, you lean closer, and he pulls you into his arms.

He's not sure how long it lasts, but the longer the fireworks go on, the closer you get, and the more content he becomes. You're sitting between his legs, leaning back against his chest, and his arms are wrapped around you, holding you close.

You turn your head, the movement catching his eye. Your eyes meet his, and the two of you stare at each other, and the fireworks fade away, forgotten.

"Hey," he whispers, and the corner of your mouth twitches.

"Hey."

"This is nice," he says, his voice low.

"Yeah, it is."

You shift, turning towards him, and your face is so close that he can feel your breath on his lips. He knows he should wait, should give you a chance to change your mind, should give himself a chance to talk himself out of it, but he can't.

"I—"

"Yes," you interrupt, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he has to laugh.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say," he teases, and you shrug.

"I'm sure it's something good," you say. You reach up, cupping his cheek with your free hand. "Whatever it is, the answer is yes."

He can't stop the smile that forms on his face. He doesn't even try. He just leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, and he kisses you, a soft press of his lips against yours. He feels you sigh against his mouth, and his eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in the kiss.

The fireworks are still going off, but he can barely hear them, and the cheers and laughter and music are distant, a soft hum that fades away. All he can focus on is the feel of your lips against his, the warmth of your body pressed against his, and the soft sound of your breathing.

He feels you smile, and his heart races, and he has to pull back to catch his breath. He opens his eyes, and he's met with the sight of you, your face flushed, and the most beautiful smile he's ever seen.

"That was nice," you say softly, and he scoffs.

“Just nice?" he asks, half-joking and half-serious. He’s just had the best kiss of his life, and if you think it was just nice, then he's got some work to do.

"Well, maybe it was a little more than nice," you tease. The look in your eyes has him leaning in again, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips and back.

"Only a little?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Hmm, well, let's try that again," he murmurs, and you laugh, a soft breath against his lips.

"Alright."

Crosshair kisses you again, and this time, the kiss is deeper, slower, and more deliberate. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you onto his lap, and you don't hesitate to follow his lead. He runs his tongue along your lower lip, and when you moan into his mouth, he feels a thrill rush through him.

Your hands are on his shoulders, and you're straddling his lap as you kiss him back, matching his pace. The feel of your tongue sliding against, and the soft whimper you make when he bites down on your bottom lip, nearly drives him crazy. He grips your hips, and he tugs you closer, the pressure of your weight against him drawing a groan from his mouth into yours. It’s a sound so low and raw that it surprises him, but you don’t seem taken aback by it. If anything, you seem pleased, and it suddenly occurs to him that there’s a lot he doesn’t know about you.

And, for once, he's excited to learn.

He doesn't want this to end, and when you break the kiss, his lips chase yours, unwilling to part just yet. You're gasping, your breath coming in shallow pants, and he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his fingers digging into your hips.

"You're right," you say, breathless. "Definitely better than nice."

Crosshair laughs, and he opens his eyes. The sight of you, your eyes dark and your cheeks flushed, lips swollen and red, is almost enough to make him let go of the fragile grasp he has on his control. He wants to kiss you again, and again, and again, but the sound of cheering startles him and reminds him of where he is.

He blinks, and he looks around, and then, he lets out a breath. The fireworks are over.

He hadn't realized.

You're still staring at him, a dazed look in your eyes, and when your lips twitch into a smirk, his grip on your hips tightens.

"Don't look at me like that," he warns, his voice raspy.

"Why not?" you ask. Your hand moves from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, fingers brushing against the hairs there, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

"Because I'm trying to be good," Crosshair explains. "And you're making it very difficult."

"I'm sorry," you say, but there's a hint of laughter in your voice that tells him you're not sorry at all.

"Don't be," he replies, and then, with a groan, he continues, "you're worth it."

Your cheeks flush, and he has to fight the urge to lean in and kiss you again. He knows if he does, he'll never be able to stop, and he'd prefer not to scandalize the locals. Or worse, have his brothers catch him in the act. So, instead, he takes a deep breath, and he moves his hands from your hips to your waist.

"Come on," he says, giving you a gentle nudge, and you pout.

"Fine," you sigh, and you give him a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off his lap. You stand and dust yourself off, and then, you offer him a hand. He takes it and lets you help him to his feet. You're still holding his hand as the two of you start walking, heading back up the stairs.

"So," you begin, breaking the silence, "when should we have that date?"

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"You don't waste any time, do you?" you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve wasted enough time," Crosshair says, his tone serious, and you give him a look of understanding

"Yeah, me too."

"So, tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow.”

The two of you share a smile, and he leads you back through through the courtyard. You walk slowly, and you let go of his hand, but the loss of contact is quickly forgotten when you lean into him, your shoulder brushing against his. He's tempted to wrap his arm around you, to pull you close, but the idea of having an audience for that makes his stomach turn, so he doesn't. Instead, he just enjoys the feeling of you at his side, and the easy way you fit into his space.

It doesn’t take long to make it to the point where you part ways, and the two of you linger, neither one of you ready to leave the other.

"I guess this is goodnight," you say, your voice soft.

"I guess so."

You reach out and grab his hand, and you squeeze it, giving him a shy smile. He squeezes back, and then, without thinking, he raises your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of it.

The flash of embarrassment that follows is enough to make his face heat, but it's worth it for the way your eyes light up, and the faint blush that colors your skin. You duck your head, and the small, pleased smile on your face has his heart racing.

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you say.

"Goodnight."

You turn away, and he watches you go, his eyes lingering on the sway of your hips, and the way your hair dances in the wind. You don’t make it very far before you turn around, a mischievous grin on your face.

"By the way," you begin, your voice raised, and the smirk on his face fades. "Tell Omega I said thank you.”

Crosshair's eyes narrow, and his mouth opens and closes, his mind stuttering as he tries to process the words.

Omega set him up, and you knew, and this entire night was her idea. He'd known, in the back of his mind, that she'd been plotting something, and yet, it hadn't occurred to him until now just how much that entailed.

That little brat.

He can't decide if he's proud or embarrassed. He settles for a combination of the two, and the amused look on your face tells him that he's doing a poor job of hiding his feelings.

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you call out, a teasing lilt to your voice.

"Goodnight," he calls back, his tone flat.

You wave goodbye, and then, with a final, knowing look, you turn around and walk away.

He waits until you're out of sight before letting out a groan. Crosshair runs his hand down his face, and he shakes his head, trying not to think about how many times he'd made a fool of himself tonight. His siblings were never going to let him live this down. He sighs, and then, with a roll of his eyes, he starts walking.

When he makes it home, he finds them already gathered in the living room, talking amongst themselves. Omega’s chosen a chair that faces the front door, and her head snaps over toward him as soon as he walks in. Wrecker and Hunter catch on quick, and the room falls silent, the three of them watching him.

"So, how'd it go?" Omega asks innocently.

Crosshair glares at her, his eyes narrowed. She meets his gaze, a challenging look on her face, and he closes the front door with more force than necessary.

"It went fine."

"Fine?" Wrecker repeats. "That's it?"

They’re all staring at him now, and he can feel his temper rising, the heat of embarrassment rushing to his cheeks, and his fingers twitch, aching to shoot something. He forces himself to calm down, to remind himself they’re only asking because they care. Crosshair relaxes his shoulders, his jaw unclenching, and then, he lets out a sigh.

"Yes, fine," he says, his voice low. "We're going out tomorrow."

The room erupts into cheers and laughter, and Wrecker stands, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Crosshair squirms, trying to escape, but it's useless.

"Wrecker, let him go," Hunter orders, and Crosshair breathes a sigh of relief when his brother finally releases him.

"Thanks, Wrecker," Crosshair grumbles, only to let out a grunt when Omega barrels into him, her arms wrapped around his waist.

"I told you it would work," she says, and Crosshair reaches down and ruffles her hair.

"Yes, you did," he concedes, and the look of triumph on her face has him rolling his eyes. He sighs and extracts himself from her embrace, and he clears his throat. “She says thanks.”

Omega beams, and Wrecker and Hunter laugh, clapping him on the back. They congratulate him, teasing him, and he bears it as best he can, trying not to show how happy he is even as his heart races, and a warm feeling spreads through him.

He hadn't thought he'd have this again, a family, people who cared about him, and he hadn't dared to hope that he'd find something else, something more. He hadn't even known what he was missing until he met you.

And, for the first time in a long time, he's excited for the future.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

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@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolinist @deerspringdreams

#tbb crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair #clone x reader #the bad batch x reader #roy writes #realizing just now that I forgot about batcher im sorry #also confession time: i hate HATE naming fics #i cringe so hard #literal agony every time i have to name one of these #if anyone wants to volunteer to be my title generator #i'd owe you my life #chatgpt is not cutting it

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bunny-1111 · 3 months ago

Note

Okay like I legit reread your headcanons every few days because it’s feeding my delusions!

Could you please maybe do an extended bit about protective Theo and the “it’s okay I can fight” and him holding your drinks in particular, like at a party or something?

Thank you for your incredible writing, we are truly blessed xoxoxo

omg my baby, you make my heart whole <3

Of course, I can. Protective Theo is crazy. I love him.

Thought I'd break the request up into two parts, the first the 'i can fight' and then the second part (coming quickly) for the holding your drinks. I hope you enjoy <3

theonott x femreader

...

When it came to Slytherin, there was only one group, the house as a whole, trusted to run a party and that was Mattheo, Lorenzo, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Theodore and you.

So much work had gone into planning the first party of the school year, and it was the first time you'd felt grown up.

Such a jump from the year prior. Yes, you're the same you, but your mind and body have changed.

You were becoming into a women, and it was a sight to see.

There was one person who loved the new, adulting, you, more than anyone, your boyfriend, Theodore. He made an exhausting effort to show everybody that you were his.

As you and your friends sat upon the cold leather of the common room couches, ideas dripped off your tongues: how much alcohol you could provide, how to keep teachers out, and how to make sure the Gryffindors kept their little lion paws out of your way.

With a plan in hand and a definitive decision to get fucked up, the party was just two sleep away.

Adrenaline ready to shoot out of your veins, how could you even get through classes knowing you were one day closer to a party.

Now, it was the afternoon of, and yet everything still depended on one thing: Slytherin winning the first Quittich game of the season. If they lost, the snakes would crawl back into their dorms silent, but if they won, they wouldn't forget it, celebrating until dawn.

Finding your place on the table of the great hall, you watched your friends faces closely. Draco, a snitch in hand, practising his reflexes. Blaise, eating for his strength, Mattheo and Theodore, reworking the team's format, and Lorenzo stretching his arms. So much was riding on them getting this game right, they had so much to lose.

"How about, if we win, I get to take your girlfriend out to Hogsmeade, Nott?" laughed Fred, breaking Theos eyes off the paper in front of him

"How about you shut the fuck up and go home to your haystack, Weasley", hissed Theodore,

"Just suggesting" Fred continued walking away

"Watch your ass on the field today. The only sea of red your Gryffindors will be seeing is gonna be your fucking blood on my bludger," Theo called out calmly

"Leave it Teddy" you muttered, hands linking beneath the table

"Let it go. He's just trying to get in all your heads, alright, seriously Theodore, your face is so red with anger its almost the same shade as Weasleys hair" Pansy laugh

"Shove off Pans" said Theo as he threw his head back, letting out a small huff, the games just an hour away, the party, hopefully hours away also.

Sitting in the stands next to Pansy, surrounded by your whole house, didn't help your nerves. The teams flew out with such speed that it almost made you smile.

The game presented as they usually do, intense, when Draco finally caught the snitch, you shit up and the crowd sang with victory.

Thank merlin, you sighed.

You waited patiently outside the boys change rooms, when they all strut out, smiles beaming, you run to Theo

"You did so good!" you exclaim as he picks you up, kissing your cheek

"Cause I had my lucky charm in the crowd" he says

"Lets fucking go!" you hear Enzo yell running down the hallway

"Parties on?" you ask "Parties so on baby" he confirmed as he draped a heavy arm around you

"I invited all the houses" he confesses

"Even Gryiffindor?" you ask suprised

"Oh yeah, let them eat the loss" he grins

"You're evil, even Weasley, after what he said before?" you laugh

"You have no idea. I invited him personally" he chuckles before stopping you, his hand creeping behind your neck

"Now, you wear whatever you want tonight; I can fight," he says, his dead eyes staring right into yours. Then he presses a kiss to your forehead and sends you off.

You knew what that meant, he would be looking for trouble, one person slipped up, and Theo would show everyone he means what he says.

It was exhilarating, and he was possessively intoxicating.

Author note: not reread or edited.

As usual reblogs, like and comments really help me <3

LOVE Y'ALLLLL

#harry potter #theodore nott #hogwarts #slytherin #slytherin boys #theo nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott fluff #theo nott imagine #theo nott fanfic #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott request

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mtchee · 4 months ago

Text

Silence is Silver, Your Voice is Gold - [Tamaki Amajiki] SOULMATE SERIES | GN

blurb:

As your schools decide to team up for a term long integration project, you're eager to prove your worth as an aspiring young hero. LOUD AND PROUD! That's who you are! So when you're paired with none other than one of U.A's Big Three, Tamaki Amajiki, your heart shatters when he flinches away from you before you can even utter a word. He gives you a brief, stammered apology--and that's when you realise that maybe, just maybe, your dearly fated had been a cruel mistake. Your own soulmate is terrified of you without even knowing you. So perhaps, it's for the best that you pipe down and let him find someone else to better suit his needs.

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, tamaki is a sweetheart, [name] is outgoing and loud, minor angst, fluff!!!, mentions of two non-canon side characters, smitten [name], anxious but doting tamaki, ugh [name] and tamaki are so cute smh, idk how i feel abt the ending i hope it's okay T-T

| masterlist | boku no hero academia collection |

[3.2k]

"U.A, HERE WE COME!"

"Shut up, [name]," One of your classmates, Kaori, scrunches his nose at you disdainfully, "you're the reason no one talks to us."

"What..."

Karina, his sister, snorts while you deflate, "It's okay to be excited, [name]. Ignore him. Let's show U.A what we're made of!" She fist pump the air to distract you, and it evidently works when you copy her with a happy whoop.

All third-year hero course students have been gathered to battle ground A and B where they would mingle with the other school's class.

One of the teachers, Miss Midnight, claps her hands and swiftly garners the attention of each student.

"Alright, everybody~" She grins widely with lidded eyes, "time to pair you off with a new buddy! Don't be shy now~ We'll be calling out your names and pitting you against another duo. Now-"

You bound your way over to a tall, spiky eared U.A. student who stands with hunched shoulders and a lowered head once your name is called. Just moments prior you saw him with two others, a broad set blond and a pretty aqua toned girl, both of whom nudged him in your direction before heading to their own partners.

Oh! How cool! He's one of the big three in U.A!

Excitement courses through you at the prospect of working with him, after all, you're not bad yourself!

Taking ground beside him, you stick out a hand and take in a breath before your heroic introduction--when he flinches away at your sudden movement.

A squeak escapes him and he quickly puts more distance between you. Before you can even blink, he's bowed sharply by the waist, murmuring trembling apologies at how your loudness had startled him--but the ringing in your ears has long since drowned him out.

Your wide smile sits stiff on your lips, features frozen as a cold wave drenches you at the feeling of your soul words tingling on your right shoulder.

He's... I-I scared him..? Your heart shatters at the realisation that in your boister, he's never once lifted his head to look at you, and you notice him trembling ever so slightly.

I'm... my soulmate's scared of me..? And then a hopeful thought crosses your mind, oh! I'll just be quiet then! Then he'll like me, right?!

Instead of replying to his flurry of apologies, you take a step back as to respect his space and bring your outstretched hand down to your side. You mimick his bow, smile softening as to not seem so overbearing.

When your shadow moves, Amajiki shakily glances up, eyes wobbling when you stand upright again and make an effort to give him a small, hurried wave, as though restraining your energy.

Ah! Yes! He's looking at me now! You positively beam, aura brightening tenfold and he looks panicked, swiftly diverting his anxious gaze. R-Right, you sweatdrop to yourself, keep it toned down...

"You're so quiet, it's weird," Kaori deadpans, eyeing you skeptically from across the lunch table as he sips through the straw of his milk box.

You look up from your half bitten chicken katsu sandwhich, cheeks buldging with food, "you fink sho?"

He grimaces at you, disgusted, "chew your food first, scrub."

You pay him mind, chewing thoroughly and swallowing before speaking again, "I met my soulmate today! He doesn't like loud things though, so I'm practicing."

"Practicing..?"

Karina gasps, dropping her chopsticks in her udon, "Wait--you met your soulmate!?" You bark a laugh at her incredulous look, the noise loud and reverberating.

"Yeah!" Feeling giddy, you take another big, aggressive bite of your sandwhich to quell it, "he's shoooooo cute!"

"I said chew, you neaderthal!" Kaori pegs his empty milk box at you, at his wits end with your brash manner. His sister retaliates by throwing her full one at him, and he yelps, barely dodging it and it goes scattering across the floor behind him.

"We were talking!" She hisses before turning back to you with sparkles in her eyes, "really!? Ohmygod, what's he like?!"

You barely open your mouth before someone interrupts.

"Hey there!" The large blond from before stands at the end of your table with a wave in greeting. A sheepish smile sits in his face at having disturbed your conversation, "hah! Sorry, mind if we joined you for lunch?"

"Hi, Mirio!" Karina smiles back, "sure! The more the merrier." She ignores her twin brother's protesting grumbles, "[name], this is Mirio, he's my collaboration partner this term."

Behind the broad blond pokes out a recognisable head of wavy aquamarine hair, and Kaori grumbles even more, sinking low into his seat with a grumpy frown.

"Oh, hey! Kaori!" The girl gasps happily, bounding over to steal the seat beside him, "what a coincidence, huh?" She giggles.

The dark haired male rolls his eyes, "More like a curse..."

She turns to you, ignorant to his brooding, "Hihi~ I'm Nejire Hado! How cool! Kaori and I were partnered up too! Oh, and that's Tamaki Amijiki!"

When a familiar head of indigo hair is forcibly thrust into the centre of attention, your face erupts with warmth and an ecstatic smile quickly crosses your lips. You perk up in your seat with a gasp, though you swiftly silence yourself and instead give an aggresively friendly wave.

The elf eared student only really glances up at the table briefly before his nerves get the best of him, and his back hunches lower. He sends an acknowledging nod in your direction though, and your heart skips a beat.

Karina looks at you worriedly at your sudden silence, though your excitement is extremely palpable. She can practically see the giddy flowers dancing around you. Kaori couldn't care less.

"Oh, [name], do you already know Amijiki-san?" You nod frantically, and that's when it clicks for her. Karina's mouth drops and the looks between you and the former, and her eyebrows raise in understanding.

"A-Ah..! He's your project partner?"

"Wow! What a coincidence, huh?" Mirio gasps, bouyed by the revelation, "we promise to do our very best!"

"Us too!" Karina fist pumps the air, you copying with a happy mhmph! Nejire giggles, leaning in to participate while Amajiki trembles in the corner.

Kaori rolls his eyes at the amount of sunshine in the group, "riiiight..."

Over the following weeks, your school and U.A. continue to work together, occasionally switching partners in combat training to simulate on-sight collaboration with other heroes you'd meet on field.

Though for the majority, you worked with Amajiki. He's strong, incredibly so.

His usual demeanour would've had you underestimating him if you hadn't been paying attention. But particularly since he was your soulmate, you knew he was powerful from the get go. You want to be just as strong.

You like being around Amijiki; he's quiet, but he's very observant. He doesn't really talk to you all that much outside of training, though sometimes you tail him around break time and he doesn't seem to mind.

That, or he's too scared to tell you off.

Hm.

He cares though! Like that one time where you were sparring Mirio, you were awed by the the power of his quirk--the power that he gave his quirk, and simultaneously overwhelmed by it. You were fired up from the challenge, determination burning in your eyes, and you spent the remainder of the day pushing yourself.

That same energy pushed you throughout that week, and by the end of it, you were burning yourself out. You didn't let it stop you though, testing the limits of both your quirk and physical capabilities even when others retired for the day.

You hardly gave your bruises the time to heal, only slapping on a salve when you let yourself have a water break before getting back to it again.

In-class training had you beaming beside him as you worked together, though he noticed you tanking too much all at once.

Eventually, he mustered up the courage to look you in the eyes with a fearsome glare and sat you down with some mineral water and tasty snacks from his vest. Then he deflated and apologised in a panic before scurrying off to get Recovery Girl to see you before you moved.

You repaid him in a flurry of grateful bows and a bag of some of your favourite treats that you forcefully thrust into his hands before running off.

You never directly spoke to him, knowing you often had a hard time controlling your volume. So, you settled for vast, obvious movements--like a big game of charades.

You made sure to keep this up at lunchtimes too, where you'd talk boisterously with the twins before immediately silencing yourself as soon as Amajiki came into your sights. And you'd always greet him with an elated smile and a frantic wave.

Mirio and Nejire are quick to catch on to your switch ups, where you happily explain: "Amajiki-kun doesn't like a lot of loud noises, so I've been practicing on quieting down."

They looked rather confused while you hummed, unbothered, and then excused yourself to brush up on your training. You didn't think anything of it, they're his friends after all! Of course he doesn't mind them being loud.

Besides, he's warming up to you now! Just, slowly.

Very slowly.

By the end of the term, most of your energy has dwindled, and the signature light in your eyes has hazed over.

You've immersed yourself in your training, tossing yourself into the throes of it all with minimum breaks as a means to extend your limits. With every new task, you volunteer to be the first. When there's a new optional training segment, you're up at the crack of dawn, rearing to go.

Your drive has always been phenominal, but it's gotten dangerously extensive.

"[name]?" Mirio and Amajiki spot you on training ground B way before the day's classes even begin. You perk up at the sound of your name, seeing them in turn and grinning widely, waving them an obnoxious greeting.

Mirio smiles back, though Amajiki's brows crinkle upward worriedly.

"The day's barely started yet, you know? You're here early."

You can't help but give Mirio a sheepish grin and a shrug, your skin glossed over with a thin layer of sweat from exertion.

"...Have.. have you eaten yet?" Amajiki's quiet question has your gaze snapping towards him; he doesn't flinch away this time. You beam inwardly at that.

You give a polite shake of your head, no, and then wave off their looks of concern with a fluid gesture of your hand--you'll pick up something later.

Everyone notices you dozing at lunchtime, your presence not as exuberant as usual. Your motions aren't quite as energetic, and sometimes you stare off into space with glazed eyes. Kaori chalks it up to an off day, and Karina reluctantly agrees.

But then the pattern continues, and your light seems to dim while your silence grows dull.

You look... sad.

It's nothing you won't be able to get over though! At least, that's what you're trying to convince yourself. Gradually, over weeks of silent pining, you've come to realise that--maybe, it's useless after all.

Since meeting Amajiki, you've done everything you could think of to get him to like you a little more.

While before you were loud, you're quiet now!

And everyone likes friendly people, you don't see yourself as someone mean, so you've made sure to be as approachable as possible.

He often startles at your sudden movements, so you've taken to bottling your energy and restraining your movements to more gentle, fluid motions.

Sometimes, when you smile a bit too brightly, you noticed he'd turn around or look away, so instead, you'd cover your mouth and crinkle your eyes--that way, he'd still know that you're happy without having to see such an uncomfortably wide smile.

Oh, and he'd get all red and uncomfy when you subconsciously lean into his space, stumbling over his words with a trembling frown, so you try and place yourself away now--you know he likes his own space.

But... he still doesn't seem to like you all that much.

Maybe the whole soulmate thing was a mistake this time around. He still looks away when you smile at him, and he turns away and shakes even when you sit across from him.

Amajiki will talk to you during training, but only really because he has to since you're partners.

You must just not be his kind of person, you think. You've always been told that you're a bit too much, so, you guess they're not really wrong.

Wow, you must look so silly following after him like a puppy, when he's clearly trying to keep his distance.

Amajiki is shy and quiet; he's determined, but thoughtful. He's powerful, but gentle.

While you're loud and shameless; excitable, but stubborn. You're kind, but impulsive.

Amajiki is everything that you're not, and you see that now. Despite your will to change, you'll never be what he needs. You think, he'll want someone who's more subtle. Headstrong, but understanding. He'd like someone who can stand strong, but isn't overbearing--someone who can calm his nerves and help him see the positive in things with a gentle tone.

You respect Amajiki. It's why you still refer to him so formally while the others have given you permission to call them by their given names. He hadn't given you explicit consent to either, so you suppose it makes sense anyway.

There's only a couple weeks left in the term.

You don't mind staying silent now, there's nothing to say. The light in your eyes isn't the same anymore, and any remainder of your energy only trickles into your presence.

You like listening to Amajiki talk. He doesn't say a lot, but when he does you like to listen. That's a perk to your silence, you suppose. If you were still as loud, you probably wouldn't hear him.

"Um, [name]..?" Amajiki tugs you aside after conjoined training in one of your remaining weeks, "a-are you okay? It's just, you've been... kind of quiet, recently..."

Quiet? That's a good thing, right? You perk up hopefully, though it shatters just as quick as it comes. When you look up, Amajiki's features a curved into a frown.

Right, nevermind. Don't be so stupid. You make sure not to look him in the eyes when you give him a carefully placed smile--not too wide, so it won't scare him away, but not too subtle so you look ungrateful--and nod your head softly.

"You-..-you used to talk a lot, y-you know," his shaky voice stops you in your tracks after you turned to head to your next session, "at least, you did more before I showed..."

Your brows pinch in concern at the hitch in his voice, and you look back to see him with a bowed head, nervously clutching the fabric of his hero costume. His shoulders are tense, trembling with the urge to run, but he steels himself.

"U-Um..." and then he glances up, eyes connecting with yours and he forces himself to stay. His pupils dilate, and he gasps sharply, lips thinning. He swallows anxiously, and then furrows his brows in determination.

"If I've done something to offend you, I-I'm so sorry..! But... I'm..-w-we're all really worried about you." Amajiki bows his head, resolve wavering and he's unable to retain eye contact, "and... I'm really worried about you... it's just, you haven't been the same, fo-for a while."

Oh. Your heart drops, so it really was all for nothing. You hum softly, looking off to the side dejectedly before deciding well, it doesn't matter anyway.

"I like you, Amajiki-kun," Your words have him snapping his head up, eyes impossibly wide while his left calf tingles, "um, I'm not... speaking too loud, am I?"

Your voice rings like a melody to his ears despite your nervous tone. At his stunned silence, your heart pangs painfully inside your chest, and you swallow thickly. Your head lowers, "sorry... I shouldn't have said anything."

"What?" The sharpness of his tone startles you, and when you look up again, shocked, and he looks just as surprised. He carries on nontheless, softer, though with an unusual firmness.

"You... why shouldn't you have said anything?" Amajiki looks pained as he repeats your words, "do you... you don't want--"

"No!" You interrupt, wide eyed at his doubt, "I-I just mean that, it'd be easier that way. And you wouldn't have to deal with such a noisy soulmate, and you could find someone you'd like-"

"W-Who are you to determine who I like?" He stands straighter now, his voice holding a certain finality that you find hard to refute.

I'm your soulmate! Is what you find you want to say, but the words die in your mouth at the hypocrisy of it.

Amajiki's gaze is fierce and unwavering, and you feel both honoured and fearful. This may be the longest he's looked at you for.

"You've known for so long, an-and were willing to leave me after this? Without me knowing?" He takes in a shaky breath, fist whitening with a grip exuding both his frustration and worry.

"You're my soulmate... m-my soulmate," he sounds awed at the fact, "...I've been waiting to hear your voice--for months, you know," his voice cracks, and it seems his courage has started to dissipate as his shoulders shrink. His cheeks flush pink from his admittance.

"I... You've been so friendly since we were partnered up. And, y-you get along so well with everyone... I got scared that you wouldn't like me because I was too... too quiet for you."

Your world stops at that. He thought what?

"I-I mean," he panics, "you were always laughing with your friends, an-and then we started hanging out and you didn't say much but you were always smiling, and then whenever you looked at me it'd make me too nervous, and when I get nervous I'm kinda sweaty so I look away. B-But then you started covering your smile, and I didn't know why, and then I felt bad because I wasn't seeing it anymore, and you started overexerting yourself so I got even more worried and then--"

"Amajiki-kun-" A bright smile had crept onto your face during his panicked ramble, and a familar red hue bursts onto his cheeks and he clenches his eyes shut. God, it's so obvious now!

"--and you don't even call me by my name," he almost seems to whine, pulling down the hood of his costume to hide. He starts trembling again, and you can't help but gasp before cooing at him.

"You want me to call you by your name?" Your eyes sparkle, and suddenly your light have been rejuvenated, "Tamaki?"

The male stiffens before slowly nodding, peeking out from beneath his hood with lidded eyes and wobbly lips. He can only make eye contact briefly before shying away--and it seems all your worries were for naught.

When you squeal and beam, clapping your hands excitedly, Tamaki can't help but smile. At the cost of enduring the attention your volume brings, he'd be more than happy to listen to you gush and spew about whatever.

Where he was once intimidated by your light, he now bathes in its warmth. And where you were once silenced by your own trepeditions, you now burst at the seams with unrestrained energy.

While you are loud, Tamaki is quiet; he likes to listen when you talk, and you are his voice when he cannot find his own.

Fate had not been mistaken.

It had just taken some fine tuning before you reached the perfect volume.

#x reader #character x reader #bnha x reader #mtchee's tea & story house #mtchee's library #mha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki x reader #soulmate au #suneater x reader #amajiki x reader #amajiki tamaki x reader

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bellatrixscurls · 10 months ago

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games you play | eddie munson

the prelude; the consequences of being late to class... a class that you share with eddie munson and that he, as a matter of fact, has failed.

a/n : i am using this little thing as an introduction to my fic, i will be posting the first chapter as soon as i can. <3

“Billy- Billy, I’m gonna be late” you try to reason with him, but he keeps peppering you with kisses, making you squirm under his body. “Come on, you- fuck- You know how O’Donnell gets.”

You hear Billy sigh, and you do too when he releases you. You miss his kisses already, but you simply cannot be late to miss O’Donnell’s class.

His blue eyes look into your own adoringly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Fine, but you owe me. Tonight?”

You can’t say no when he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes. And truth is, you don’t want to.

“Bet” you giggle, causing a chuckle to escape your boyfriend’s mouth too as he curls a finger under your chin, pecking your lips once, twice and three times before finally letting you go.

You get out of his arms before he can catch you again, and rush up the stairs towards your class. When you finally reach the door, you open it and a more than familiar face greets you.

“Look who has decided to join us. Meredith, I didn’t expect it from you” she shakes her head at you, and your eyes widen.

8:03 am. Shit.

“I am so sorry─” “No need. Just- Don’t let it happen again” she gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the only empty seat left.

You nod and rush towards your seat, placing your books on the desk.

“As I was saying prior to being interrupted” she emphasises and you sink in your seat, “You will be working in pairs for this assignment. It is rather complex, otherwise I would have never let you.”

Tammy raises her hand, and the teacher gives her a pointed look, raising her eyebrows. “Can I work with Steve?” she asks excitedly, and you snort when the aforementioned boy gives you a horrified look.

“Not exactly, miss Thompson. I would rather you work with your desk mates. It should be a fifty-fifty type of project” she eyes her suspiciously, but decides to let it go as she starts explaining about said project.

You don’t even realise who is sitting beside you, until you notice Steve is giving you a shit eating grin, looking over your shoulder.

“So, you and Harrington think you are too good for us, remains of society, right?” you turn to your right, only to find Eddie Munson, the freak, toying with his pen.

You look at him, confused. He remains unimpressed as he glances at you for merely a second. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

It is his turn to snort, rolling his eyes, but still avoiding eye contact as he looks forward. “Oh, please. Tammy, and now me, all in under ten seconds. I’m impressed.”

You remain silent for a second, before shaking out of your thoughts. “We don’t normally─”

“Oh, trust me, I know” he hums. “You should have come sooner, though, if you wanted to work with one of them... Oh! But wait, Hargrove had his tongue down your throat and now you are stuck with me” Eddie’s face spreads into a wide grin when he sees the shocked expression on your face.

You lean back against your chair and stay quiet for the rest of the class. And when it’s finally over, Eddie gathers his books, not leaving before he looks over at you. “Five pm, my place.”

─

“Are you saying the freak made fun of you and you didn’t say anything back?” Steve laughs at you, as you both gather your things to leave for the day.

You give him an unamused smile, and he holds his hands up in the air. “I’m just saying, Mer. That was unnecessarily rude. Tell Hargrove that and he will─”

“Shut it!” you shush him, cupping Steve’s mouth and he licks it. “Idiot!” you slap him on the back of his head and he laughs out loud, opening the door to his car so you can get in.

─

Five pm rolls around and you are already at the trailer park. You don’t really know which one is Eddie’s, but you don’t have much time to think about it before you hear a door being slammed open, and see a head of curls popping out. “Come in, then, princess” he steps aside, and you step inside the trailer.

It’s cute, actually. It is a bit small, indeed. But it looks nice and as clean as Eddie Munson can keep it, knowing his chaotic personality.

“Yeah, it’s not your palace, but it does the job” he snorts ironically when he sees you look around.

“Your place is nice” your eyes meet for a second, before he looks away. “Let’s go to my room” he instructs, hand at the small of your back, but barely touching you as he guides you inside his room, closing the door behind him.

His bed is a bit messy, papers are thrown around the room, but, somehow, it looks cosy. “So- the project. What do you want to start with?”

His eyes snap to yours in a moment. “Yeah so, I don’t know if you figured, but I failed this class last year.”

You hum, unzipping your backpack. You do know. “Of course. I can help you, if you want.”

Eddie huffs, throwing his hands in the air and you look at him surprised. “Okay, what the fuck is this game you’re trying to play?”

“Sorry?”

“You trying to help me, complimenting my house” he squints at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You look at him utterly confused. His words make you take a step back, Eddie has always intimidated you and his snarky comment made the things even worse for you.

Seeing the annoyed expression on his face, you decide to speak up. “I just- I am good at Chemistry so I just figured, you know...”

He thinks for a second, and you can see his face soften for a minute. You exhale.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst

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wordsarelife · 2 months ago

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⛧༺ NO BODY, NO CRIME ༻⛧

EPISODE 02: no, there ain't no doubt

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: you and theo begin to investigate the murder, while trying to keep the operation under wraps and each other save from the killer

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of blood, a corpse, murder

note: hello guys, welcome back to the second episode of nbnc!! i hope you like it so far! if you have any theories, do not be shy and share them in the comments!!!

you were staring at the wall across from you. dumbledores office was different than you would have imagined. you could hear the teachers voice, but it didn’t really reach your eyes, your mind wandering back and forth between what had happened prior.

professor burbages face was such a clear image in your mind. way too clear, way too disturbing. you could feel her eyes linger on you, feel the pain that had etched itself onto her features and the wetness of the blood on your fingers, that you had picked up as you had fallen back into the snow.

you felt theo’s arms around you, as he pulled you into the castle. you had felt his quick heartbeat against your ear, his shaky breath had been louder than yours and you hadn’t been able to stand on your own.

“it’s okay” he had muttered, pressing you to his chest, as if to shield you from every bad thing in the world. “you’re okay” his voice was muffled as he spoke into your hair, hiding his own face as if to gain some sort of comfort from the close proximity.

“did you see anyone?” mcgonagalls voice reached your ears and your mind broke free off the memory.

you shook your head, not having the ability to speak. theo send a worried glance in your direction. you were fiddeling with your hands in your lap, the look of terror still on your face.

“there was no one there” theo said. “we didn’t hear or see anything apart from what we told you” his voice had grown aggravated through all the questions you had had to answer. “can we please continue this another time?”

“just a few more questions, mr. nott” dumbledore said softly, holding a bowl filled with lemon drops towards you. both theo and you shook your head.

theo sighed, but nodded at the professor’s request. then, all of a sudden, he reached over and took your hand in his, so you could hold onto something and knew that he was there.

you looked up and theo send you a reassuring smile.

you ended up at the common room at half past three. the questioning had continued all throughout the night, with the teachers grappling to find answers. you were sure that they knew more than you, as they exchanged mysterious glances at everything theo and you told them.

you couldn’t stop thinking about it and you were so incredibly scared. you wished theo was there, he was the only one that understood what you were going through.

you climbed the stairs to your dorm, deciding that it was to no use to sit around the common room all alone. hermione was fast asleep when you opened the door. the teachers had probably informed them that you were being held back, but probably without disclosing the real reason.

you got rid of your uniform and changed into your pyjama. you took another glance at hermione, before you quietly walked to her bed and crawled under the blanket. she stirred a bit in her sleep, but didn’t wake up, as you pushed your face into the pillow next to her.

you needed some sort of comfort and just knowing she was there was enough to send you to sleep, the exhaustion taking over before your mind could wander back to the nights events again.

the next morning, the castle felt strangely quiet. you awoke after hermione, who had probably already left for breakfast or something else. for a moment, you simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the stillness linger. but the memories crept back in as they always did—professor burbage’s face, the coldness of the snow, and the horror that gripped you when you realized something was terribly wrong.

you slipped out of hermione’s bed, there was no point in staying any longer, pretending that a few more hours of sleep could wash away what had happened. your limbs felt heavy as you dressed, your mind replaying the details over and over. every time you closed your eyes, it was there again—her face, twisted with fear, and the blood, so much of it, on your hands.

downstairs, the common room was empty, except for theo, who was waiting for you. his back was turned, his posture rigid as he stared into the fireplace.

“theo” you said in surprise. he turned around and send you a soft smile.

“i couldn’t sleep much” he muttered, “thought you might want some company”

“but the password?”

“it was way too easy to find out” he shook his head, laughing softly. “you guys should better change it” he added, a bit more worried, realizing the danger a security breach like that held.

you quickly nodded, your eyes wandering over his features that softened when he noticed the tears brimming in your eyes.

he stepped closer, pausing for a second, before he finally opened his arms, so you could cry against his chest.

“i’m sorry” you muttered, ruffling your nose. “i’m sorry”

“what for?” theo asked, voice calm and warm like he could send all your fears to sleep with a simple word. “you saw something terrible and rightfully it messed you up, it messed me up too”

“i’m glad you’re here” you whispered and you could feel him nod his head. “you’re the only one who understands”

“just like you” he smiled as you stepped back. “but i’m also here because of something else” he waited for your permission to explain.

“go on” you urged, cleaning the left over tears from your face with the back of your hand.

his hand went into the pocket of his trousers and he took out a folded piece of paper that he then held in your direction. you took it and opened it up. “professor burbage had that with her. outside”

your eyes studied the symbol on the paper. it looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it. the lines were sharp, forming an intricate design that seemed purposeful, almost like a rune. your heart started to race as you stared at the symbol, trying to pull the memory from the back of your mind.

“i’ve seen this before” you whispered, but your voice was uncertain. “i don’t know where, but i’ve definitely seen it”

theo leaned closer, his eyes scanning the paper along with you. “i thought the same thing when i found it. it was clenched in her hand. almost like… like she was trying to hold on to it.”

“did dumbledore see this?” you asked alarmed. “why did you take it?”

“i didn’t think properly before i did, it was the first thing that i saw, i realized only later that she had probably held it in her hand. otherwise it would’ve been wet”

“this is evidence, theo” you shook your head, brushing back your hair with the piece of paper still in your hand. “you can’t just take evidence from a crime scene!” you scolded.

“well, i didn’t know it was a crime scene when i took it” he excused. “apart from that, maybe the rune entails a secret message or something? something the killer could’ve used to get burbage outside”

your eyes widened, before you quickly nodded. “okay” you pushed the paper back into his hand. “what do we do now? go to dumbledore and tell him?”

“because that worked so great before” theo said softly, but you could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“he just said that we can’t be sure it’s a murder”

“well it looked like a bloody murder, didn’t it?” he grimaced, “all the blood”

“yeah” you agreed. “it definitely did. but what do you suggest we do if we won’t tell dumbledore? who could we tell then?”

“no one” theo shrugged. “we keep it between us, until we find out more”

“find out more?” you asked surprised. “do i look like sherlock holmes to you?”

“no, but you come close to doctor watson”

“ha ha” you shook your head and crossed your arms, before you thought for a second. “alright” you finally said “let’s get some breakfast, i might know someone who can help with that after”

he nodded, ready to leave the common room, but you held him back by his arm. “but not together, no one should know what we’re trying to find out. and no word about professor burbage, we don’t even know if it’s public knowledge yet”

“okay” theo muttered. “for someone who claims to have no idea about this, it comes to you pretty naturally”

“i’ve read a lot” you shrugged, but couldn’t bite back the smile that crept onto your face. “come on”

theo and you split up. you sat down at the gryffindor table next to ron and across from harry, while theo wandered off to the slytherin table to join his own friends.

“morning” harry greeted. “where have you been so long?” he wondered, before he raised his brows and touched your cheek. “have you been crying?”

you shook your head, quickly wiping over your cheeks to get rid of the remaining wetness. “no” you muttered. you couldn’t even trust your own voice. theo and you had sworn not to tell anyone what you knew and that probably included your brother. he would find out soon enough anyway.

“good morning” dumbledores voice rang out loud and clear throughout the hall, before harry had the chance to question you further. “something terrible happened yesterday” he paused for a second, before he added. “professor burbage has been found dead”

waves of shock went through the hall, as gazes were exchanged and heavy whisper broke through.

you looked at theo across from you. neither of you had thought that the teachers would share the news so fast.

“we can’t be sure what happened yet, but professor slughorn is currently trying to inform the aurors in the hope that we will soon have an answer to every question you might have” he smiled softly. “for now, please remain calm and—“

the door to the great hall flew open, revealing professor slughorn, who quickly hurried inside. “albus!” he called loudly, not caring who was listening “the castle—, it’s been” he shook his head, as if to try and rearrange his thoughts. “a terrible snowstorm has cut every tie to the outside world” he finished, having reached the teachers table, face reddened and trying to catch his breath.

no one in the hall dared to matter a word, not even ron, as the three of you stared up at the teachers table where dumbledore and slughorn were hurriedly whispering with each other.

“alright, alright” dumbledore nodded finally, as slughorn sank down in his seat. mcgonagall slightly tapped his shoulder in comfort, but slughorn looked like he was about to faint as he wept a hand through his thinning hair.

“it seems like another problem just introduced itself” dumbledore’s smile was unwavering, but you noticed a hint of discomfort on his face. the same discomfort he had worn the day before, when you had told him about professor burbage. “it’s seems that a magically forged storm has reached the hogwarts grounds. there is no need to worry, as this will be taken care of. as stated before, please remain calm, make sure to stay together and continue on with your day”

“magically forged?” harry muttered. “and what about professor burbage? what does she have to do with everything?”

“i don’t know” you replied warily, locking eyes with theo across the hall, before you nodded to the door. “i have to go” you told harry and ron, before you got up to leave.

“what? where?” harry tried to reach for your hand, but you drew it back quickly. “you’re acting strange, y/n. what’s going on?”

“nothing” you shook your head, quickly searching for an answer that would leave him satisfied. “well, i have this uh— girl problem that i need to talk to hermione about” you eventually replied, acting as if you were embarassed.

“oh” harry muttered, while ron’s cheeeks quickly grew rosy, as he averted his eyes. “okay, then go on” harry encouraged uncomfortably. “but, let me know if you need, uh, any help, yeah?”

you nodded and finally left the hall with a last wave to your friends. “bye” they answered your greeting, before they quickly turned their heads, falling into conversation with neville and ginny.

theo, who had caught your hint, met you in the corridor outside the great hall. “did you know they would tell everyone?” you blurted out as soon as he arrived.

“what? no!” he shook his head. “what’s even worse is the storm. do you think there’s a connection?”

“maybe the killer is not finished” you muttered, finger pressed to your chin, thinking.

theo kept silent, watching you with wide eyes, as he thought about what you said. “that means—“

“yeah” you nodded “he’s still here and his next victim is too”

“shit” theo shook his head, his hair moving and a few curls falling into his eyes. he tried to push them back, but it was to no use. his hair perfectly displayed how he was feeling on the inside. he sighed. “you might be right, but we have a chance to stop him, before anyone else gets hurt, so what do we do? you said you knew someone who could help with the rune?”

“hermione” you simply answered.

“of course” theo smirked. “who else?”

as you had expected, hermione hadn’t been at breakfast, not so late in the morning at least. not even the approaching christmas feist was an excuse for her to rest.

you found her in the library, sitting at a table, accompanied by various stacks of books. she was concentrating on a piece of parchment, as her finger expertelly swerved over the book in front of her.

“wait” theo said, holding your arm, before you could walk around the shelf you were standing behind.

“what?”

“maybe i should wait here” theo shrugged. “we agreed to tell no one that we are trying to find out more, remember?”

“yeah, uh, of course” you nodded, outstretching your hand to take the piece of paper with the rune on it into your own hand.

“i’ll wait here” theo promised and you smiled at his assurence.

hermione didn’t even look up when you called her name. she blessed you with ignorance, as she turned the page of her book.

“oh, y/n” she finally said, when you repeated the calling. she pushed one of the stacks of books to the side, so she could have a proper look at you. “are you alright?” she asked, brows furrowed as she stared at you in deep concentration.

you answered her question with a stunned expression to which she sighed, concluding she had to explain herself. “well, you slept in my bed last night, which you only do if you’re feeling unwell or scared” she paused and took another look at you “and you’re in the library before eleven”

“maybe i just wanted to sleep next to someone?” you muttered, cheeks turning red as you thought about theo hearing that you had been so scared the night before you had to sleep in someone elses bed.

hermione shot you a look that clearly said, don’t be ridiculous.

“okay, fine” you nodded. “professor burbage was found dead. i found her”

“i know” hermione said as if you were talking about the weather.

“how?” you asked confused. “dumbledore only announced it before i came here”

“you speak in your sleep” hermione informed. “i went here as soon as i finished eating. i’m trying to find out something about the magically forged snow storm outside”

“how did you—“

“my parent’s letter arrives every tuesday, eight a.m. sharp. this morning it didn’t” she shrugged. “that could only have two reasons: first, my parents forgot to send it, which they never did in six years and let’s be honest, they’re dentists”

you nodded, as if you understood the correlation between the punctuality of letters and dentists.

“or” she went on “somehow the owls had a problem coming through, which they never had before, not in a thousand years” she pointed to the edition of a history of magic in front of you. “then i took a look outside and there it was: snowstorm”

“yeah, okay” you nodded, impressed that she had found out all of that on her own.

“so, what do you need my help with?”

“how do you—“

hermione sighed. heavy. “library, you, eleven a.m., remember?”

“sorry” you winced, before you held the piece of paper in her direction. “professor burbage held this in her hand when i found her”

“this is evi—“

“it’s just a copy” you quickly lied, not willing to risk her going to dumbledore about this. she was your best friend, but she was still hermione.

hermione inspected the paper, before she sighed once more. “would you please tell nott to stop hiding behind the shelf? his eagerness is distracting me”

you didn’t even question how she knew about that, as theo stepped around the shelf and into the open. “hey, granger”

“hello” hermione didn’t even aknowledge the boy, instead she kept staring at the rune. “so you were there too, huh?” she finally said, as she gave the paper back to you.

“huh?” theo muttered, taken aback by her question.

“how did she look?” hermione continued without being fazed by theo’s lack of an answer. it seemed that she had already made up her mind about his involvement. “was there blood?”

“a lot” you nodded.

“well, it was obviously murder” hermione concluded. “but not by magic as it seems.”

“so you don’t know what this is?” you asked. she had not mentioned anything about the rune. “i think i have seen it before, it seems familiar”

“of course i know what it is” hermione replied almost offended. “and you recognize it, because you have seen it before. it was the coat of arms for an old underground organization at hogwarts— the nocturne society”

“of course” theo smiled in recognition. “it apparently got forbidden a few years ago”

“and rightfully so” hermione nodded, as she pushed one of the opened book into yours and theo’s direction. “here. they had connections to the dark arts, sometimes that ended in some real trouble”

you overflew the passages, which talked about various situations where the doing of the organization had led to injuries or other incidents in the school and grounds around it.

“well, why would someone draw this coat of arms on a piece of paper and give that to professor burbage?” you wondered.

“maybe to threaten her?” theo shrugged.

“actually” hermione interrupted, her voice cutting through the room as she glanced between you and theo. “it’s a warning. there have been rumors that the organization had returned, with new members of course, but this was always their way of warning those who came too close to their business”

“so professor burbage might have found out about something she shouldn’t” you concluded. “but would one of them go as far as murder? i mean if it’s someone from the nocturne society it has to be a student, right?”

hermione nodded. “a student with a broken moral compass and no respect for rules”

“i think rules are the least of their worries, granger” theo laughed.

hermione crossed her arms, unimpressed. “well, i wouldn’t know about any of those delinquents” she looked between the two of you, before she added “but i hear your friend riddle has a special appreciation for the dark arts—and certainly no less for forbidden underground organizations.”

you and theo exchanged a glance, before you nodded. “thank you hermione, you’ve been of great help”

“of course” hermione smiled and you and theo got up to leave, but she held you back. “be careful with him” she send a pointed look against theo’s back. “someone who’s so close to people who practice the dark arts might not be far from practicing it himself. he could be dangerous, y/n”

“i’ll be careful” you promised, intentionally ignoring everything else she said. “don’t mention it to harry”

“i won’t” hermione assured. “as long as you get out alive”

you caught up with theo, before he had even noticed you were missing. hermione continued her research on the magically forged snowstorm as the both of you left the library and her behind.

you found mattheo in the corridor to the slytherin corridor. he wasn’t alone, but heavily making out with a girl, which turned out to be millicent bulstrode. they didn’t notice either theo or you as you approached and theo had to physically tear them apart, after repeatedly calling mattheo’s name didn’t work.

“nott” mattheo groaned loudly, millicent still in his arms. she didn’t even acknowledge you.

mattheo furrowed his brows, as he noticed you behind theo. “potter” he exclaimed surprised. “came for a kiss, i suppose?” he kissed the air in front of him.

“hey!” millicent muttered, slapping a hand against mattheo’s chest, but making no move to leave.

“we need to talk to you” theo said coldly, not impressed by mattheo’s attempt to flirt with you.

“we?” mattheo laughed. “who’s we? you and potter dating now or what?”

“no” theo muttered between clenched teeth and even though you didn’t knew him well, you could tell that he was beginning to get angry. “we need to talk” he repeated.

“well, you can talk to me later” mattheo smirked unimpressed. “i have other things to do” he took a look at millicent, before he returned his eyes to theo and you. “everyone has to wait their turn.”

“you disgust me, mattheo” theo spit, before he took your arm to lead you out of the dungeon. “come on, we’ll come back later”

you nodded, quickly tearing your eyes away from millicent and mattheo, who had already begun kissing again. “is he always like that?” you asked and theo sighed, before he nodded.

“usually he is a bit more likeable”

“i hardly believe that” you laughed and theo smiled at you. “but maybe we can use the spare time to look for more clues in professor burbages office”

“you think that is a good idea?” theo quirked a brow, clearly challenging you.

“well, you thought investigating a murder was a good idea, so i won’t take any judgement from you”

theo laughed and you thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. you found it almost unbelievable how close the two of you had grown over the span of hours. theo had been practically a stranger all those years you had spent in the same school, but now he felt like he was the closest friend you had. trauma was a really bonding experience it seemed.

professor burbages office was right behind her classroom. a small staircase led up to the door, that held all the clues you were searching for.

“it’s locked” theo concluded when he tried opening the door.

“did you bring your wand?” you asked, but theo shook his head and you had to do the same, after he returned the question.

“well” you smiled, kneeling down in front of the keyhole. “then we need to do it the muggle way” you grabbed one of the bobbypins out of your hair and pushed it open, leaving a long and thing metal stem. you picked the lock expertly and the door sprung open in a matter of seconds.

“where did you learn that?” theo asked, surprised by your unusual skill.

“my aunt loved to lock the kitchen when harry and i were children” you shrugged. “sometimes we were so hungry, there was no other way”

theo nodded and you missed the look of compassion on his face, when you walked into the office before him.

once in the office, you split up, each of you searching a different half of the room.

you sorted through a stack of paper in the cabinet that stood at the back of the room, when you heard theo sigh loudly.

“this is just a bunch of school stuff” he muttered. “i had hoped for something clearer”

“like what?” you laughed.

“i don’t know” he shrugged, as he opened another drawer. “maybe a death threat?”

“i think the killer might be a bit smarter than that” you exclaimed, right as your eyes fell on an opened bottle on the dresser next to you. you raised your brows, before you took the bottle into your hand.

to burbage— for when the pressure gets too much. consider this a parting gift.

you frowned, rereading the cryptic message. "parting gift?" you glanced at the wine again, and suspicion clawed at your thoughts.

suddenly, a sickening realization dawned on you. the note wasn't a friendly gesture—it was ominous, almost mocking. as you examined the bottle closer, a faint but unmistakable scent lingered in the air—bitter almonds.

poison.

“theo,” you called, your voice tight as you held up the bottle. “come look at this—”

but before you could finish, a loud noise echoed from outside the office. both of you froze. heavy footsteps approached. they weren’t casual, nor hesitant. they were deliberate.

theo shot you a sharp look, his hand instinctively moving toward professor burbage’s wand that was still laying on top of her desk. you quickly placed the bottle back on the dresser, your heart pounding in your chest.

the footsteps grew louder, closer. someone was coming. someone who might have known exactly what you were about to find.

theo moved to the door, his face tense as he mouthed. “what now?”

before you could answer, the handle to the office door rattled.

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 1 year ago

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A few weeks after #MeToo exploded on the internet, an old friend and I did what so many women did during that time: We got on the phone and finally began to acknowledge what had happened to us. My friend shared a story of hers from college. Back then, we’d all just considered it a “bad date,” but she now recognized it as sexual assault. She also shared that at nearly every single job she’s had since college, a boss or co-worker has sexually harassed her.

The month before our conversation, I had published an essay sharing my own experience of sexual assault while traveling abroad. Like my friend, it was not my only experience—it was one of many. But I’d only included the one, because in the early stages of #MeToo, the idea of sharing one assault story still felt risky. The idea of sharing more than one felt culturally impossible. My friend agreed.

“As a woman, you’re only allowed one #MeToo moment,” she told me. “After that, people begin assuming the problem must be you.”

Out of the many celebrity #MeToo stories told in the past five years, only a handful have acknowledged the experience of multiple assaults. In an HBO documentary, Alanis Morisette spoke about repeated incidents of statuatory rape that happened when she first entered the music industry, all of which “fell on deaf ears” when she tried seeking accountability. In her memoir, Selma Blair wrote about a teacher who sexually assaulted her, as well as the many men who raped her in her 20s. In an interview with Dazed, Amber Rose said, “I cannot even count how many times a famous guy touched me inappropriately.” On a social media post during the Kavanaugh hearings, Tatum O’Neal wrote about her multiple assaults: “It was not my fault when I was 5, 6, 12, 13, 15.”

Stories that emphasize the ubiquitous nature of assault are vital in a world that so often focuses on one dramatic episode, with visceral details of the violation and an easily identifiable villain. This amplifies the false idea that assault is just a singular, horrifying incident—when in reality, many of us experience it as part of a larger, more insidious culture.

Once a person is assaulted, research shows they’re more likely to be assaulted again, a phenomenon called “revictimization.” Around 50 percent of children who survive sexual assault reexperience it later in life, and even a single incident of sexual assault in adulthood can increase the risk for it to happen again. As psychologist A.E. Jaffe and her colleagues wrote in a 2019 paper on revictimization: “Perhaps the most consistent predictor of future trauma exposure is a history of prior trauma exposure.”

Why would this be? In lieu of a good answer for it (more on that in a moment), we often blame victims themselves. We easily justify these statistics by suggesting that anyone who has survived multiple incidents of violence must be asking for it—either by acting promiscuously, hanging around too many shady men, or getting themselves into precarious situations. One survivor I interviewed told me that though she received some form of victim-blaming in response to all three sexual assaults she experienced, she noticed a stark decrease in support each time it happened again.

“After the second and third, some people began saying, ‘What’s happening in your life to attract that?’ or ‘Do you have enough awareness to know when men want to harm you?’ ” she told me. “One person even asked why I was ‘trusting men so much.’ ” Another friend who experienced multiple assaults went through a similar line of questioning, only with herself. “After so many times, I began asking myself, ‘What is it about me that brings on these experiences?’ ” she said. I told her I ask myself that question all the time.

In his essay “Spectator” for Roxane Gay’s anthology on sexual assault stories, Not That Bad, Brandon Taylor wrote about his best friend telling him she was beginning to think she was “just the kind of person this stuff happens to.” For a long time, that’s what I believed, too. As a travel writer and a single bisexual woman, I figured that at some point, I’d pay the price. Eventually, I’d have to face some element of physical harm—wasn’t that the obvious trade-off for attempting a liberated life? To me, survivorship—more than resilience, bravery, or strength—often felt like resignation.

But in some cases, it’s exactly that resignation that influences repeat assaults. While there’s no conclusive evidence as to why revictimization happens, we do know that normalizing assault can contribute to future harm. If a survivor has not internalized their experience as exceptionally traumatic, they are less likely to advocate for themselves, or demand accountability if it happens again. If they, like me, accept violence as an obvious fact of their lives, then when it repeats, they don’t seek the support they need to process and heal from each experience.

In an article for Psychology Today, psychotherapist and clinical social worker Keith Fadelici called this a “cognitive accommodation to ongoing violence.” The trauma continuously gets downplayed as victims attempt to normalize their assaults, which helps them feel more in control. “This dissociative process is a common symptom of PTSD,” Fadelici told me. “And can also later make survivors less capable of detecting risk by numbing the fear that is supposed to trigger alertness to danger.”

Oppression also plays a significant role. Those with marginalized identities are more at risk for experiencing assault in general, and thus more likely to experience it again. LGBTQ+ people are four times more likely to be assaulted than the general population (bisexual women and trangender people also are far more likely to experience assault than gay men and lesbian women). Rates of sexual assault for Indigenous women are three times higher than non-Indigenous women, and Black women are much more likely to experience assault than white women. Neurodivergent people are 11 times more likely than neurotypical people to be victims of violent crimes.

“If this is coming up repeatedly with one individual, it might be because that person is within systems and structures that facilitate assault more often,” said Jaffe. For those of us living with any of these identities, we normalize violence because living under oppression is consistently violent. In order to survive, a “cognitive accommodation to ongoing violence” is necessary. We train ourselves to get used to it, and move on.

After #MeToo, I began reading and rereading the legal definitions for rape and sexual assault to make sense of what had happened to me. Any sexual contact that occurred without consent constitutes assault? Any sexual contact that included penetration without the other person’s consent constitutes rape? The criteria felt almost too easy. Under these standards, I had been raped twice, and assaulted several other times—all stories I had not yet fully internalized, and was not yet ready to tell. Dozens of legal crimes had been committed against my body, but that idea felt so unfathomable I hardly knew what to do next.

In the three years after publishing that first story, I experienced more incidents, and I still don’t know what to call them. I don’t feel comfortable firmly declaring them as “assault.” I don’t like how it connects so deeply with an oppressive legal system, and how it automatically connotes some excessive form of violence. Even today, it seems too strong and rough a word for how these episodes played out: often with little physicality, with only brief conflict and polite turns toward quick forgiveness, until weeks later when I’d unpack the severity of what had happened. As I began sharing more of these stories with close friends, I would catch myself saying “technically” before saying “I was assaulted,” acknowledging the semantic disconnect I still felt. This hesitation is common among many survivors: As one 2019 meta-analysis showed, rates of victimization increase when participants are asked “behaviorally descriptive questions” about what happened to them, rather than questions that use terms like “rape” and “assault.”

Sometimes, people ask “How many times all together?” I say “six-ish,” a number that captures the amount of experiences that have dramatically changed the way I relate to my body—how it experiences intimacy, how it engages with the world: The one that happened at work, just weeks into my first job out of college. The one at a festival in India. The one while getting a deep-tissue massage. The one at a New York play party. The one so common I learned it has its own name (“stealthing“). The one with a lover I had loved and trusted deeply. The one with another lover, a violation that was not sexual but physical and thus, as yet another nonconsensual act done against my body, still felt so connected to all the rest.

And this still does not take into account every time I was nonconsensually touched in public—the men who pulled and grabbed my arms, my back, my butt, my shoulders to try to get my attention on the street—nor the times I’ve been followed, harassed, physically threatened by strangers on the street.

The accumulation of more and more of these events creates a compounding impact, one where each additional incident begins to amplify the ones before. For me and most survivors I spoke to, we are not healing from trauma—we are learning how to exist in a world where trauma continues to accumulate.

Every survivor I interviewed for this piece told me they fully accept the potential that they’ll experience assault in the future. Still, most of them admitted to me that it’s still easier to only share just one story with the world—never the full range of what has happened to them. “When you only have one story, the enemy is the rapist,” one survivor told me. “But when you have several people with a lifetime of these experiences, the enemy is all of us.”

This is what we mean when we talk about rape culture. The first thing we can do to start to dismantle it is to recognize what we’re up against.

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zuzuelectricbugaloo · 21 days ago

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Color Spectrum Duo Origins Part 2: Run, Rabbit, Run

Part 1

Rating: Teen

Romantic Relationships: None

Cw: Minor swearing and alluding to Killer’s prior act of cannibalism

Synopsis: Color runs. A Killer chases.

Word Count: 1, 844

His opponent yelped, diving to the side just before Killer could reach them.

“Hang on! Can’t we just—fuck!” The skeleton rolled in the snow, a knife impaling the ground and sizzling through the quickly vaporized ice seconds where their torso had been.

“Sorry, I’d rather make LOVE,” Killer jokes, “not love.”

They kicked themselves back onto their feet, but it was too late. Killer had gotten close enough to pull them into an Encounter.

Usually, monster culture etiquette dictates an Encounter is commenced with cordiality. Souls are sacred, the very essence of a monster, the culmination of their entire beings, Souls and Intent could arguably be defined as the true heart of monsters. Folkways then are guided with a caution always for the fragile magical constructs.

His Intent is sharp and vicious, his magic wrenches his victim’s Soul from their chest and pulls it out to hover before them.

Killer disregards their alarmed, pained cry, determination burning him from the inside out. His magic pulses through his body when he sprints and spins his blade in his gloved palm.

A quick Check to reveal what exactly this interloper’s intentions are, and then lights out. The knife in his fisted palm glows an ominous crimson as he holds it aloft, prepared to strike—

—Only to falter at the Soul’s unusual appearance; cordate but not inverted, a pearlescent ivory center outlined by blinding colors rapidly shifting from one to the other — and the information that flickers before him.

* COLOR ATK 0 DEF 0

*A skeleton who absorbed six of the seven human Soul Traits.

*He’s a weak vessel in the wrong place at the wrong time.

*LV 1 HP 0/0

To survive, you need to adapt within a moment’s notice. To process any and all changes in the environment around you. To fight and defend yourself effectively even with limited information. To do anything and everything to survive without hesitation.

It was a lesson hard taught. Years of agony and torture and suffering his cruel teacher, but this lesson of utmost survival was ingrained into his Soul itself.

Never falter.

Never doubt his superior.

Never surrender unless brought to heel.

And yet, the momentum of his clenched fist stuttered. His thoughts ground to a halt as he absorbed this information. It echoes in his mind, his record player Soul spinning and crackling in wild red-white circles as he stares, frozen.

Something about it it’s not him it’s not him this is real this is real has a cold, tight grip around his Soul.

*A weak vessel in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No, no, no, that’s not possible. Killer was – this is just another – it had to be a trick. A game. A ploy, or, or challenge of some kind! Why—?!

Suffocating fear floods his body like he’d been dunked in an icy river and he shuts down, looped tape of orotund voices splitting his skull open and blasting from his irate scribbled mess of a Soul.

Killer faltered.

The interloper side-steps, narrowly missing Killer’s full-bodied lurch, and bolts, yanking his Soul back but it’s not a true monster Soul, right side up like a human’s and glows polychromatic like the flames to flee the Encounter, gunning for the inner forest.

His mind catches up to his failure before his staggering body could and once more, poleaxing fear withers him out and fixes him in place, even as his mind screams through the voices that he’s in danger and won’t survive—!

But Survival was not an option. It was a must.

Do what it takes to endure must outlast must persist failure is not an option

They are a Killer. It’s all that they know.

And they must never lose a hunt.

They take off after him.

Color curses as he dives behind a snow bank. Sanguine knives pierce the ground beside him and he lets out more colorful (he could already hear his friend’s snickers) curses.

He yelps when a knife with seething Intent flies through the flames pouring out his skull and thuds into a tree in front of him.

He flings himself back onto his feet and nearly tripped over himself in his haste to get away, stumbling over a rock hidden by puffs in the snow. His misstep is punished with a knife piercing his shoulder, and he hisses at the flare of pain the scrape against his glenohumeral joint sparks.

Color slides, ignoring the ache of dropping to one knee and bends the other back for support and evokes a blaster, the draconic vestige materializes on his right hand and its jaw unhinges, mana crackling before it surges out as a powerful rainbow blast. Once it’s fired it dematerializes as quickly as it had appeared.

He hears a startled noise but can’t make out if anything else is said. Already he’s back on his heels and pivots before bolting away once more.

As he runs, he curses how a previously pleasant day of landscape photography could have spiraled so far out of control so quickly.

Hysterical laughter bubbles in the back of his throat. His chest heaves with the exertion but he can’t teleport out, he needs to find the liminal space he entered through to get back to the Omega Timeline. The special portals hidden by Core are accessible only to those they’ve granted the Codes to. He just needed to get to the “door” and he’s home free.

If he could outrun the cannibal chasing him and survive long enough to make it, that is.

“You totally gotta go to this AU! He said,” Color sarcastically intones while replaying Epic’s earlier words. “It’s sanctioned by the Stars,” he pants, sweat dripping down his skull while his Soul frantically pounds in his chest, “and I heard it’s got the most beautiful forest, he said. Nothing could possibly go wrong, he said!”

He pauses mid rant to hunch over with his hands on his patellae, gulping down air he doesn’t need to soothe his frenzied mana.

Frightening snarls are followed by blades whirling passed him and impaling the snow.

“AAAaaaand we’re running again!” Color yelps and books it.

“Epic, I swear if I live through this, I’m gonna kick you right in the damn shin,” Color growled.

Apparently a supposedly pleasant, positive AU has cannibals running around. Why not? It’s just Color’s luck.

He needed to put as much distance between himself and his lethal assailant as he could.

On their end the Killer doesn’t let up on their assault. They pull knives from their jacket pockets and continue to throw dagger after dagger after the skeleton in a rapid fire series of attacks. If their prey slips even a bit one would land. They noticed how physical attacks incur minimal damage. Attacks laced with magic, rippling with malicious Intent, however, make their frightened prey stumble and keen in pain. Their victim is unusual, an abomination to the natural order of all things Chara’s giggle is a whisper “Sounds familiar” but they are a skilled hunter.

All prey have weaknesses to exploit.

They don’t care if this NPC or test from Nightmare or whatever the stars-damned fuck this “skeleton” is. They will not be the one who suffers, not this time.

With the taste of iron, of blood and their own ashes from their burned insides on their tongue, they persist. They are Unnas, spirit indestructible, and if they wish for him to die, then he will die.

With their newfound clarity they shift tactics. The hybrid summons their blaster and pours all the wrath and anguish they carry into the blast. Their blaster mirrors their own hateful countenance, Determination grows from black rivers to floods that pour out their sockets and mouths, cooking up their insides and boiling their marrow as they burn alive.

Blaster and evoker both unhinge their jaws and roar a deafening scream.

The moment the air burned with tangible hatred, Color drops, flinging himself to the snowy ground a fraction of a second just in time. The blast misses him, eviscerating instead several acres of forest.

Color’s Soul aches at the devastation. All that beautiful scenery, gone. Obliterated out of nothing but sheer misdirected hatred.

His mourning lightens when his eye spots a strange ripple in the air ahead of him, visible only to him.

He brightens, Soul lighting up with hope once more. That was the door!

Color plants both hands by his skull and kicks his legs up, flipping himself upright and lunges forward. Almost there, almost there, almost there!

His hand reaches for the translucent Codes shifting and humming within the liminal space.

Only for the sight of his freedom to be ripped from his visage as a katana impales him, sinking into his scapula and breaking through his sternum.

Color chokes on fire, his eyelight flaring and flames spiraling in pain. The cruel Intent tears through his mana network, buzzing angrily and disrupting his magic in its attempt to subdue and kill kill kill.

Blinded by pain, Color reacts on instinct.

He whirls around while the Killer closes in, another katana in hand, and with a slitted eyelight evokes his blaster. Firing right at the strange target hovering in front of the cannibal’s chest.

It lands, and Color is unprepared for the way the sound that it tears from his assailant shrieks through the forest, shrill visceral agony cracking in an anguished scream.

The impact blasts them back, skittering and tumbling several feet away onto their chest.

It…it made no sense…Color trembled, shaken by the sound and adrenaline and his instincts howling for him to run. His Intent was to protect himself, why were they spasming and mana flaring like he’d taken a shot at their Soul…?

Color stills with horrified realization as the cannibal’s claws dig into the snow and they slowly start crawling towards him. Despite their continued choking, hacking up splatters of bitter, black fluid, they force their trembling body towards him.

The strange, erratically spinning lines of crimson and ivory magic…that was their Soul.

And Color had shot his magic, powered by several human Traits, right at it.

Horrified revulsion simmers in his nonexistent gut and he doesn’t know what to do, wanting to apologize but knowing letting his guard down would mean his permanent end. He could escape, freedom was right there, right behind him. All he had to do was step through and he’d be out of the AU.

But then they lift their skull to stare at him. Voided sockets with ink-like fluid pouring out, stare into Color’s singular wide eye.

There’s not an ounce of hatred that he felt in the attacks prior. It’s empty and black. In those eyes there was no fear, only resignation. And yet they still crawl towards him, knife clasped in a shivering claw.

Color reaches out, mouth parted to say something, but before he can reach out something intangible shoves him and he falls through the door, the portal closing behind him and seals the exit locked.

The last he sees before he falls through it to the Omega Timeline are those empty eyes.

#color spectrum duo #my writing #cw minor swearing #cw mention of cannibalism

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aziraphales-library · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, just wondering if you have any fics were Crowley and Aziraphale text frequently? AU's are fine 😊

Thank you!!

We have some texting fics here and you may enjoy fics on our #social media tag, which will include fics with online messaging. Here are more fics with texting...

Short Message Service by squiddz (E)

He got halfway down the page before the phone flashed with a notification again. Another message from Crowley. It took all of three seconds for Aziraphale to fold and pick up the phone. Crowley: so Crowley: what are you wearing Aziraphale: What kind of question is that? You know exactly what I'm wearing. --- In which Crowley gives Aziraphale a mobile phone, and then tries his level best to sext with him.

just friends (he's too important) by Narwhalhavingsomuchfun (T)

Biology student Anthony Crowley can't afford to fail his gen ed history class at Tadfield University. But luckily he's found a someone willing to tutor him in history. 3 guesses as to who that may be *** Crowley POV Strangers to friends to best friends to lovers texting fic

Play The Game by ffonippop (M)

Aziraphale was a university student on his last grueling year of pursuing a joint-honors Bachelors degree in Biology and Theology. His favorite day of the week was Sunday, because on Sunday, he could forget about the lab and leave behind the library to gather with his friends and play a competitive game of trivia— Quiz Bowl. He liked Quiz Bowl because it was a brain game, it was engaging, and it promoted teamwork. But most of all, he liked Quiz Bowl because he was the best at it. Until Crowley, the arrogant bastard with a swagger in his saunter, started showing up.

Dim the Lights and Sing You Songs by Polaris (E)

A few months prior to leaving the Dowling household, Crowley had downloaded Grindr for the sole purpose of catfishing randy morons. He was not expecting a paragraph that began with: ‘hello. I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice you have the most lovely nipples.’ Crowley keeps trying to meet his Grindr fuckbuddy. Aziraphale keeps showing up at all his meeting spots. This is terrible.

Readings From the Books of Ashtoreth by Quefish (E)

Vicar Aziraphale Bookman has a comfortable life. He lives in and serves the small village community of Tadfield. He enjoys contributing to local businesses, taking walks, and of course reading. His 'guilty pleasure', which gives him no guilt and all pleasure, is a series of novels by one AJ Ashtoreth. But what happens when he reaches out with an innocent bit of fanmail?

What We Make of It (Shotgun Wedding) by charlottemadison (E)

The important thing, Crowley tells himself -- the most important thing -- is Adam, his brilliant, creative, empathetic nephew. Being fourteen's hard enough; the kid didn't ask to deal with the weight of the world on top of it. And if taking care of Adam means Crowley has to tough it out at a job he can’t stand, so be it. And if Crowley's job means that Adam’s charming English teacher is NOT a romantic possibility, well, that's just how things go. But the occasional drink with Aziraphale proves hard to resist. They frequent the same pub, so who can object to them saying hello? Briefly sharing a table? Perhaps a little conversation? The painful knowledge that it can’t be anything more -- not without somebody getting fired or sued or both -- well, that can't be helped. Until Crowley stumbles onto a terribly reckless idea...

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #adult omens #texting #human au #mod d

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featherstreams · 11 months ago

Text

Twice the Tricks, T-Poses, and Tickles

Notes: Thank you so much to the anon who requested this and for the kind words!! This sounds adorable, and I'm so glad you liked my first one! I hope you like it!💚 Todoroki is a sweetheart and deserves to smile more. (Also, sorry for the long build-up to the tickling part and the lame ending) (Second Note from rewrite: I rewrote half this fic from memory before the lovely anon who requested this reached out to me with the fic saved! I decided to leave in a lot of the changes to hopefully improve my writing a bit! Thank you so much to that anon and I hope you all enjoy!)

Lee: Todoroki

Ler(s): Kirishima, Kaminari, and Midoriya

Word Count: 1,534

Warnings: None!

Summary: After a successful prank on Bakugou using the T-pose trick they found online, Kirishima and Kaminari decide to move on to another victim during a boring lull during class. Chaos commences.

~ Part One ~

________________________________________________________

“Ughh, I’m so boredddd…”

"Shut up, Dunce face." Bakugou snapped from his place at his desk where he was fiddling with his pen.

“But Kachaan~!”

“Call me that again and die.”

Kirishima chuckled from is own place at his desk. Bakugou had been giving both he and Kaminari the cold shoulder ever since their prank a few days ago, aside from little quips and banter like this. He was surprised their explosive classmate hadn't enacted his revenge on them yet, but he wasn't complaining. Being on the receiving end of Bakugou's revenge, especially when it came to tickling, was... He shuddered at the thought.

Redirecting himself back to the present, Kirishima stood from his seat and walked over to Kaminari's desk, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Why don't you play a game on your phone or something?" He suggested.

“Aizawa-sensei took my phone away,” Kaminari whined, dropping his head on his desk dramatically. “I won’t get it back until the end of the day.”

“You can use mine if you want,” he offered, rummaging through his back pocket.

“No, you don’t have the games I like. And I won’t have any of my saved progress, anyways,” Came the muffled reply from the blond, who didn’t bother to lift his head from his desk.

“Stop complaining so much if you’re just going to turn down everything you’re given to help.” Jirou called from where she was sitting on Mina’s desk her phone in her hand as she softly played some sort of tune for the alien girl.

“Speaking of sensei,” Midoriya piped up from his own seat, interrupting Kaminari’s defensive response, “I wonder what’s holding him up.”

It was Tuesday, and the entire class was in their usual classroom for the day. They were supposed to be working on some sort of training assignment, but indeed, their sensei, Mr. Aizawa, had been called away around ten minutes prior by another teacher for help with… well, none of them were quite sure what. He’d told them to sit tight and not cause trouble before leaving to deal with whatever the situation was. It hadn’t taken long for the majority the class to melt away from their assigned seats and group up in their usual cliches. The responsible ones of the class- the usual suspects, Iida, Momo, Bakugou- had taken this free time of sorts to work on their homework, but many of the others- Like Kaminari- were growing bored and restless.

"Oh, oh! I know!!" Kaminari exclaimed suddenly, lifting his head from his desk to grin at Kirishima in excitement. He lowered his voice then, glancing around as he spoke. "The prank! We should do the prank!"

Kirishima grinned, crossing his arms. "Hell yeah, man. I'm sure that'll be great entertainment. But who should we do it to?" He asked, now joining the blond in scanning their classmates for possible victims. "Sero and Mina likely know about the video already... Actually, I think we should avoid the girls in general. That wouldn't be manly to trick them into being helpless without their permission."

Kaminari rolled his eyes. "Always the gentleman."

"Midoriya would figure it out too fast.” Kirishima continued, ignoring the quip. “Iida would never let us..."

"Todoroki!" Kaminari exclaimed, already standing up. It was the perfect choice, after all; what did the half and half hero know about social media? Nothing, as far as they knew. Content with their decision, the two boys approached their target, who had been engaged into small conversation with Midoriya while Kirishima and Kaminari had been talking.

"Hey, Todoroki! Wanna try out this test we heard about?" Kirishima asked with a smile as they stopped before the pair. Todoroki, who’d been mid conversation, stopped and turned to look at them, curious.

"Test?" He echoed, tilting his head.

"It's a strength test!" Kaminari said cheerfully. "Bakugou even tried it the other day!"

A glance at the hero in question showed that the blond was now looking at them, stunned and furious. Don't rat us out, please... But Bakugou only let out an indignant sniff and said nothing, returning to his classwork.

"Oh... Sure. Okay." Todoroki said evenly, standing up from his seat on Midoriya’s desktop. "How do I take this test?"

"Oh! Let's see..." Kirishima searched for something they could use, scanning the room. Nothing, nothing… Shoot, maybe they’d been to hasty with this. But then Bakugou suddenly caught his attention when he moved, pointing to an area in the far corner of the room. Following his finger lead him to a bō sitting out beside the supply closet. Of course! From their karate-type lesson with Mr. Aizawa last week. That would be perfect!

Kirishima rushed over and picked it up, flashing a shark-toothed smile at Bakugou for the help- receiving only another indignant huff of dismissal- before returning to his friend and their new victim. Kaminari was in the midst of explaining what Todoroki was going to be doing as Kirishima stopped in front of them, staff held securely in both hands.

"Got a staff!" Kirishima said with a grin. "Go ahead and lift your arms up to the side- Yes, just like that!"

Todoroki did as instructed, standing like a statue with both arms perpendicular to his body while he watched Kirishima thread the bō, or staff, through the sleeves of his uniform jacket until it could be seen peeking out the other side.

"There! How does it feel?" Kaminari asked with a smirk. Todoroki calmly tested the staff, lightly pulling on his arms, which barely bugged.

"Secure," He replied after a moment. Half the class was watching now, curious and interested. Was Mina recording on her phone? Oh, she definitely knew what was going on.

"Great! Now, try to get it out! You can't use your quirk," Kirishima added when flames licked at Todoroki's left fingers. The peppermint boy obeyed, fire extinguishing as quickly as it’d appeared, tugging on his arms and shifting his feet. His brows knit together as he focused on the task, but remained unsuccessful aside from getting his elbows in a few inches.

"I can't get out," he said finally, blinking at the now-smirking two boys that had put him here. "Does that mean I failed?"

"Not exactly," Kaminari said, cracking his fingers. "You see, the strength test wasn't about your arms, exactly. It was about how long you can last."

"How long I can last? Last wha-AHAT! H-Hehey!" Todoroki's question was cut short when Kirishima jumped forward and squeezed his sides. The half and half hero pinched his lips together, jerking a few steps backwards only to run into Midoriya and his desk.

"Clever, you two," Midoriya commented, giggling as he looked up at his tense friend.

"Thank you!" The boys chorused together, both poking their way around Todoroki's sides and tummy.

"Come on, Todobro~! Tickle tickle tickle!!" Kirishima cooed. Giggles spilled through Todoroki's pinched lips, his cheeks pinkening from the teasing. "Awww, listen to those giggles! Who knew stoic Todoroki had it in him?"

"How adorable," Kaminari agreed with a smile, pinching his way up Todoroki's right ribs, earning a soft squeak. He had no hope of containing his reactions when caught so by surprise on top of having two ticklers. He was squirming now, trying to twist side to side as his arms remain stubbornly up and useless due to the staff in his sleeves.

He was squirming enough that it was growing exceedingly difficult for both Kaminari and Kirishima to tickle him, struggling to stay out of each other's way while also maintaining contact with Todoroki's wiggling torso. This became tricky enough that the redhead finally paused, pursing his lips thoughtfully as he evaluated the situation.

Then there were arms snaking around Todoroki's hips from behind, causing a surprised sound to erupt from the peppermint hero. They belonged to Midoriya, who pulled Todoroki towards him, keeping him secured against the desk and himself so he couldn't struggle away anymore. His own thumbs could be seen gently digging into the divotes of Todoroki's hips, and a snort erupted from the boy as he doubled over.

"Have at him, guys. His armpits are the worst for his upperbody," Midoriya supplied helpfully, a smile evident in his voice as he held Todoroki in place for the other two boys to play with to their hearts’ content..

"Mihidoriyahaha!!" Todoroki protested through his hysterical giggling.

"Todoroki-kun!" Midoriya echoed back teasingly.

Kirishima, not wanting to overwhelm the stoic half and half hero with six tickly hands, decided to stand back and watch this time, as most of the rest of the class was doing by this point. Most of the girls could be heard cooing, with Mina recording the entire thing on her phone, and even Bakugou was watching, smirking at Todoroki’s situation in a way that only someone who’d been in that position could.

Kaminari drilled back in on Todoroki's ribs, needing no other encouragement to continue. The victim let out a shout of laughter before delving into hysterics at the combo tickling he was being subjected to.

"Guhahahaha-guys! HAHAHhahahaa Ohohokay! Hahahahaha! Plehehease!! K-Kaminari, Midorihihi- Aaahahaha!! NONONO!" The uncharacteristic squeal shot from Todoroki's mouth when Kaminari scribbled his devious fingers under Todoroki's arms. The struggling attempts to get away doubled as Todoroki's adorable shrieking laughter filled the classroom. It was so... High pitched, and adorable, and just so genuine from such a soft spoken, neutral guy. Kirishima nearly awwed. He was not alone, though others seemed to have failed in holding the sound in.

The poor peppermint boy's legs were trembling, and it didn't take long before they gave out on him, and his weight was fully leaning into Midoriya.

"P-PLEHEHEHEASE!! NOHOHOHAHAHA NO PLEASE NOHOHOT THERE!! I- EEK- I CAHAHANT!!" Todoroki cried out between his sweet laughter. This carried on for another unspecified amount of minutes, Todoroki’s desperation being dutifully ignored in favor of listening to his adorable laughter, before a voice cut through the noise, causing everyone to freeze.

"I leave to deal with a quirk emergency for fifteen minutes, and I come back to this?" Aizawa drawled from where he was standing, arms crossed, in the front of the room, eyes trained on the frozen scene. "I could hear you from three classrooms away."

Todoroki, who sat blushing and panting in what was practically Midoriya's lap by this point, turned red enough that his scar nearly disappeared. "S-Sorry, sensei." He mumbled as an almost equally embarrassed Midoriya quickly lifted his hands from Todoroki’s body in surrender, unable to stand due to being pinned down by the victim of their antics,

"Kaminari, Midoriya, detention." Mr. Aizawa merely said. The loud protests of "What?!" and "It was Kirishima's idea!" ("Hey bro, not cool!") that followed from the electric blond went ignored as Kirishima helped Midoriya remove the staff from poor Todoroki's sleeves.

As the three boys fussed over a tickled-out Todoroki, in which Iida and Uraraka joined in, no one noticed the smile or the chuckle that rasped out of Aizawa as the man closed the classroom door and set up to continue their lesson for the day.

#lee!todoroki #ler!deku #ler!midoriya #ler!kaminari #ler!kirishima #my scribbles💚#bnha tickles #mha tickles #tickle content #tickle fic #tword community #mha tickle #bnha tickle #t word community #sfw tickle community #tickle tickle #ticklish!todoroki #my posts📫

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chartreuxhue · 10 months ago

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Takuma Ino - There's two of you!?

Pairing: Takuma Ino x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not proofread, and first jjk writting(PLZ BE NICE)

Wrote this while being violently homicidal so I hope its sweet and not angry!!!

Your hands were occupied with what seemed more interesting. Your husband was holding a small but nice conversation with Nanami, their voices soft in the background as your eyes followed the string of words that were appearing on the laptop. Fingers typing away like it was your last and final action. It wasn;t a business email, you were responding to an old friend who had moved away and the only way you two keep in touch is through email. It was nice, gave you a chance to actually think about what you wanted to say and how you’ll say it, plus you weren’t spending hours on the phone talking about random things.

The pitter patter of feet seemed to get louder. The door flew open, and there stood that Itadori boy that Ino talks about all the time.

“Takuma!”

Your immediate reaction was to respond. Your mouth moving faster than your brain and typing fingers.

“Yes?”

You beat the actual Takuma by answering. All three looking over at you, two in confusion and one with a soft smile on his face. Yuji looked between you and Ino, trying to connect the dots on why you just answered him when he called out to Takuma, not you. You watched the gears in his head turn. Brown eyes darting back and forth. It isn’t until Nanami finally speaks that it clicks for the poor boy.

“I didn’t know you two were married.”

His tone was intrigued, when did you two find time to do it. Was it a small ceremony? Courthouse married? Either way he was happy for you two. You watched Ino rub at the back of his neck, looking for some way to explain to Nanami when it happened and why. He’s close to apologizing for not inviting him to the court signing of the document, but he’s interrupted by the surprised Yuji.

“You two have been dating!”

You thought his eyes couldn’t get any wider, brown orbs seeming to be larger and larger by the second. You laughed, you thought it was known, but apparently not. How did he not know, your brain thinking back to all the times there was clearly no platonic work interactions between you and Ino. Then again, does Yuji pay attention to things like that, maybe not. Either way, his reactions are entertaining.

“Of course, not like I haven’t been with her since high school.”

Ino said, eyes meeting Yuji’s as the boy makes his way to sit down. Acting like a distressed father over this new found information. His eyes latching onto the ground and his hands clasping in his lap.

How could the boy not notice that his two favorite teachers assistants were dating, let alone get married without his prior knowledge. It’s crazy, actually insane to him.

“Since high school…”

He pushes a faux distraught tone. Making that signature distraught Itadori's face. Ino nodded, that same cheerful smile plastered on his face.

“How long have you two been married?”

“Not that long.”

He stuttered off, trying his hardest to remember how long ago that was.

“We decided the day after we graduated, then we were engaged for a while. So, we’ve only been married for a year.”

Your words surprised Ino himself, only a year. He feels like he’s called you his wife for all of eternity. You shook your head at him. Holding up your index finger and saying ‘no only one’. You watched as Yuji slowly started to come out of his distraught father's pose. It was coming together, you two were high school sweethearts that were in for the end. So you two haven't been married for years like he thought. He’s now only stuck on the part where you hid the engagement and marriage for so long. It even had Nanami lost, but then again even Nanami has things hidden so he can't be too worried.

“Well, congrats guys!”

Yujis demeanor changed, a sparkle in his eyes as he came to the realization. There’s two of you now.

“Now we have Mrs. and Ms. Takuma. Sweet!”

For @cruivanei - youve spoke of him a few times so here he is :)

#Chartreux writting #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #ino takuma #takuma ino x reader #jjk takuma #ino takuma x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #takuma

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sprinkler-ashes · 2 years ago

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gorgeous // aaron hotchner x reader

gorgeous

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

in which you’re jack hotchner’s teacher, and you are utterly enamored of his dad. loosely based off of taylor swift’s song “gorgeous.”

words: 2.4k

warnings: everyone thirsting over hotch lmao

a/n: thank you all soooo very much for 600+ notes on my last fic!!! here’s another small taylor-inspired fic. It’s short, sweet, and i left it open for a part 2 in case i want to write it – we’ll see. i really wanted to get more out for you guys, but spring semester started, i fell back into constant work, and now am getting over the flu, which totally sucks, but is giving me a slight break to write. thanks for reading <3

you make me so happy, it turns back to sad

there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have

you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

On most days, you loved your job. You were a first grade teacher and truly loved all the kids you had as if they were your own.

However, on some days – you really despised your job.

Dealing with the parents was sometimes your least favorite part of your job. It was usually mind-boggling to you at how some of these people had the sweetest and smartest kids, but they, the parents themselves, could be absolutely awful. It wasn’t all of the parents. In fact, there were some you really liked, but there were definitely a couple bad ones.

As much as you didn’t like dealing with some of those bad parents during conferences, you weren’t a fan of days like today – a Saturday bake sale at nine in the morning to raise money for an end-of-the-year field trip coming up at the end of the school year in just a couple months. The PTA was over the bake sale, which meant you had to deal with some of the most insufferable women you had ever met on what was supposed to be a day off.

“I told you, Stef, she’s just with him so she can get that life insurance check when he finally kicks the bucket – you watch and see if I’m not right,” the woman next to you, Kelly, said. “Poor Charlie, I hope he gets away from her before she snatches every penny he’s got.”

You wanted to scream. You weren’t sure how you were going to deal with this for another – you checked your watch – two hours and thirty-eight minutes even though the bake sale was only supposed to be three hours long. How had it only been twenty-two minutes?

Kelly was the resident gossip while Stefanie, Stef, was her best friend and head of the PTA. Kelly’s son wasn’t in your class, but Stef’s twins were both in your class. Even though you didn’t even teach Kelly’s kid, you saw her often because she was always at every single school event.

“Stef, are you listening to me?” You heard Kelly ask.

“Did you know Mr. Hotchner is here?” Stef asked excitedly.

Your head perked up at hearing that. You pretended to fiddle with the homemade brownies wrapped up in front of you while you listened.

“That man is so beautiful. I just want him for myself,” Kelly replied. “I’m glad he made it today, so we have something nice to look at.”

You couldn’t disagree with Kelly there. Aaron Hotchner was the dad of one of the kids in your class, Jack, and a member of the PTA. He was the Unit Chief of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit and was often gone on cases. Jack’s mom had died a while ago, close to two years prior, and Jessica, Jack’s aunt, was usually the one who would drop him off and pick him up.

In fact, you had only met Jack’s dad a couple times – three, to be exact. The first time you met Jack and Aaron was at the school’s open house event right before school had started. The second time was the first parent-teacher conference of the year. The last time you had seen him was purely by luck in the grocery store one evening.

Kelly wasn’t wrong – Aaron Hotchner was insanely attractive and every woman in the PTA knew it. It honestly seemed like everyone knew it except for Aaron himself. You watched as he helped Jack give change back to a man who was buying a cookie at the booth he was at. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him give his son a high-five after the man had left.

Truthfully, you hated him. Not because he had ever done anything to you – actually, it was because he hadn’t done anything to you.

“Do you think he’ll ever remarry?” Kelly asked Stef. “If so, I hope it’s one of us.”

“You, me, and every woman here,” Stef said with a laugh. “Oh my goodness, Kelly, he’s coming over here. Fix your hair! It looks like a bird’s nest.”

You felt your pulse start to race as you glanced up to find that Stef was, indeed, right. Aaron was coming over, his eyes trained on you with his hands in his pockets. He was dressed casually in jeans and a crewneck sweatshirt. It was different from the usual suits you saw him in. Seeing him without a tie felt almost criminal.

“Good morning,” he told you, not paying attention to the other women near you, his eyes trained solely on you. “I’m sorry to bother you, but Jack wants to know if you’ll come join his booth for a moment. It won’t be long.”

You silently it wasn’t obvious that his gaze on you was affecting you the way that it was. His job was literally to profile people – you just hoped he wasn’t profiling you right now. “Yeah, I’d love to. Do you mind taking over this booth while I go over for a bit?”

“Go right ahead, honey,” Kelly told you. She lowered her voice, “I’d go anywhere with him, too.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just going to see Jack’s poster.”

Kelly grinned. “Whatever you say.”

You shook your head, avoiding eye contact with Aaron and watching as both the women gave him a smile and little wave while you maneuvered from out behind the table you were standing at. “Lead the way.”

He gave you a small smile as he removed his hands from his pockets and led you over to the table him and Jack were assigned to. “I know you’re miserable, so I thought I’d help you escape.”

You were about to ask how he knew you’d rather have been doing anything else other than Stef and Kelly gossip, but you closed your mouth as soon as you opened it. “Really? You were profiling me? Here?”

That earned you a laugh out of him, which you now claimed as your favorite sound you’ve ever heard. “I don’t think it would’ve taken a profiler to see that you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

“Did you guys not get assigned with anyone else? It was supposed to be three to five people per table,” you mentioned as you two had finally reached the cookie booth that Aaron and Jack were over.

“We did, but they didn’t show,” Aaron replied to you, his hand lightly touching your lower back as he guided you behind the table where Jack was awaiting, causing you to elicit a sharp intake at the contact. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said in your best attempt at a nonchalant tone. If he doubted you, he didn’t press further. “Do you want me to ask around and see if I can get someone to come work the cookie booth with you guys?”

Aaron shook his head. “We’re holding up fine. Right, Jack?”

“Miss Y/L/N!” Jack shouted coming towards you as he held out his poster board that was just about as big as he was and filled with hand-drawn pictures of cookies. “Look at my sign! Daddy let me stay up late to make it.”

You crouched down to his level. “It looks awesome, Jack!” you told him excitedly, gaining a smile of your own as you watched his spread wide. “You did a great job!”

“Thanks! Can you put it back in front of the table, please?” He asked you politely. You nodded and took the poster back from him and placed it back in its rightful spot in front. “Daddy, can I go talk to my friends? I’ll be really quick, I pinky-promise.”

“Yes, but don’t be too long. We have cookies to sell,” Aaron told him.

You both watched as Jack’s little legs carried him just right in front of the table you were at. He was only a couple feet away, but you noticed Aaron’s eyes watching him, making sure he got there safely and that the adults working that table saw him.

“He thinks the world of you. I think you’re his favorite person,” Aaron told you.

That made you grin. You weren’t supposed to have favorites as a teacher, especially with kids as young as the ones you taught, but Jack was definitely one of your favorites. He was a sweet kid and was even reading on a fourth grade level. He caused no trouble and was a friend to everyone.

“He’s a great kid. I think the world of him also,” you said, your eyes locking with Aaron’s. Your breath hitched. How was someone this gorgeous? “But I actually think you’re his favorite person. He tells everyone about you and what you do. You’re his hero.”

Aaron grinned, and it was a sight you hadn’t seen before. You’d gotten smiles from him before, but never anything this big. You refrained from quite literally melting onto the floor. To be honest, you weren’t sure how you were going to last another minute standing here with him. He was so attractive you could barely even look at him.

If you said you didn’t have a teeny, tiny crush on Jack’s dad, you would be lying, but he was off-limits. For one, you were his son’s teacher. You’d really convinced yourself that there was no way he would want someone like you. There was nothing wrong with you, but you two were supposed to have a strictly professional relationship.

“Have you tried one of the cookies?” Aaron asked you, motioning to the cookies that laid on the table in front of the two of you.

“I haven’t,” you replied. “Did you bake all of these?”

“I had some help,” he sheepishly admitted. “Penelope, one of my co-workers, she helped me. As soon as we got back from a case last night, she came over. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to bake this many cookies by myself.”

“You made all of these last night? And after a case?” you asked incredulously. The entire table was covered in cookies of various different flavors. You were seriously impressed.

“Yeah, but it was no big deal,” he brushed it off. “I didn’t want to miss the bake sale. Plus, like I said, I didn’t do all of it.”

Was there anything this man couldn’t do?

You laughed. “I’m sure you’re probably wishing that you did miss the bake sale.” You gestured around the school parking lot that was set up. “I can count on one hand the number of things we’ve sold. I told Stef that a chilly February bake sale wasn’t a good idea, but she doesn’t really listen.”

“No, I’m glad I’m here. I really wanted to be here,” he said, looking directly at you.

This man knew how to take your breath away without even touching you or really even saying anything. You really understand now why all the PTA moms spent so much time gossiping about him.

“We’re glad you could make it,” you said breathlessly, offering a smile. “Really, Mr. Hotchner, I know how busy you are, so all of us are thrilled that you could find the time to help out.”

“Call me Aaron.”

This man was genuinely going to drive you crazy. You were an adult, so why did talking to Aaron Hotchner almost make you drop to the ground?

Before you could say anything else, Jack was back. “Did we get any more customers?”

“Not yet, buddy.”

Jack frowned. “Ah, man. But the cookies are so good!” He turned to you. “Miss Y/L/N, why is no one buying anything?”

“I’m not sure, Jack. Hopefully, we’ll get some more customers later.”

“I hope so,” he said sadly. “I really want to go on the field trip.”

You once again crouched down to his height – something you did often when talking to any of the kids. “We’re working really hard to make the field trip happen, so don’t give up hope, okay?”

Before Jack could reply, you noticed people coming towards your table, so you motioned for Jack to look. “Look! There’s some customers coming. You ready?”

Jack nodded excitedly as he turned around and eagerly started to await the arrival of the people nearing. You smiled at his excitement and took a step back, letting him take control, but you were going to keep watch to make sure he was doing everything correctly.

“I can see why Jack likes you so much.”

You smiled. The greatest compliments you could receive was from parents telling you their kids – the kids you spent more time with than your own family — liked you. Some days were tough, and it would feel like you weren’t in the right profession, but that feeling would go away any time a parent was able to confirm that their child really enjoyed you teaching them.

“Thank you, Mr. Hotchner, but I should probably get back to helping out Stef and Kelly,” you told him as you looked around to see more people filing in. “It seems we’re starting to get a little busy.”

“Yeah, of course, sorry to keep you busy. Jack just wanted you to come over.”

Jack turned around. “Yeah, I did. Daddy wasn’t happy that we didn’t get to work a table with you. He called Miss Stef a-”

Aaron’s eyes went for a split second before he said, “Jack, turn back around and sell your cookies.”

Jack did as he was told and Aaron awkwardly ran a hand through his hair as you replayed what Jack said back in your head. Aaron wanted to talk to you. He wanted to work with you today. It could’ve meant anything, but you were currently feeling like a kid on Christmas morning.

Aaron cleared his throat. “I guess Jack wasn’t the only one that wanted to talk to you.”

You suppressed a grin, gaining the courage to look Aaron in the eyes. “And I guess Jack wasn’t the only one I came over here for.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner one shot #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner

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quietlyimplode · 2 months ago

Text

ignite your bones

After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.

Whumptober 2024: Day 7 - unconventional weapon

Warnings: red room violence, child death, minors fighting,

Word Count: 2.1k (gif not mine - from @notahammer form this gifset- I hope it’s okay that it’s borrowed)

Summary: Natasha tells a story of her past.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

A/N: this one delves into Natasha’s past, it’s not a happy chapter and sits heavier. Also, thank you for all the comments on the last chapter - I will reply to them - also dw in this house we love Maria Hill (she just has some distrust to work through) <3

Dostoevsky sits on the table and Natasha wonders at Maria’s choice of Crime and Punishment.

A Russian author and a title that mirrors herself seems a little too on the nose.

She appreciates the gesture though.

She didn’t know what had happened in the day between Maria seemingly wanting to torture her for information, to not asking her questions at all.

Debrief hadn’t touched on Odessa, but instead moved to code words and languages.

This she could easily talk on.

This was something she gave up readily.

She appreciated the reprieve.

Clint had returned to find her and Maria eating breakfast in her cell, as they had done for the three days prior. The mood more comfortable than the first time and, seeing Clint, she had smiled a genuine smile. She’d missed him.

With Clint back, he would resume the role of handler, changing the routine once again.

Whilst Natasha would miss the fresh air of the morning shooting range with Maria, she prefers Clint and the safety that his presence entails.

Will the debrief continue to avoid Odessa?

She’s sure Maria told him what had happened.

For now her voice had been heard, when she said that she couldn’t talk about it. But she’s not ready to trust they’ll avoid it forever, especially when she feels it could be used against her.

Today’s debrief looms.

Clint glances down at her in the elevator, catching her eye and smiles.

As usual, they enter the small office and sit with the two way mirror on the left.

He hands her two pictures.

Natasha’s blood runs cold.

“Who is that?”

The woman in the picture on the left has her black hair pinned back.

Memories flash.

“Stand straight.”

“Again.”

“Widows are marble.”

“You will not break.”

There’s a taste of poison in Natasha’s mouth and she wants to spit.

“Um,” she says swallowing, “she runs the widows. Trains them. Keeps the girls in line.”

She moves her hands under the table, clenching hard to keep herself present.

“What do you know of her?”

Clint asks the question slowly, like he knows what it will cost.

“The trial of the silent knife.”

Natasha doesn’t want to talk about this.

She looks at the second picture.

The branding mark embossed on skin.

“What is the trial of the silent knife?”

Natasha forces herself to calm. Forces air in her lungs and her mind to clear, even as images assault her, the cut of the knife and scar on her calf glisten.

“How did you learn to fight?” she asks, voice low.

Clint smiles easily.

“Back yard fights with my brother. My father, school, the military. You could say my learning was… eclectic.”

Natasha hears him in what he doesn’t say.

“How do you think I learned?”

Clint doesn’t answer straight away.

A question he’s likely never considered.

She sighs.

“We are trained in very specific ways. Ways to make prepubescent bodies strong. Running in mountains, strength training, exercises in multiple martial arts by different teachers. Each with their own style of reward and punishment.”

Natasha considers the questions about the woman and wonders where to start.

“Once we reached a certain age, the skills we learnt were tested.”

She knows he wants to ask more.

“I was 8.”

“The trial of the silent knife is the test.”

Natasha stands with the other girls.

She feels excited, adrenaline running through her body, as she wants to show her skills.

She feels ready.

The other girls look cocky. No one looks scared except Sasha, who always looks like she’s going to wet herself.

Natasha’s not sure how she hasn’t been kicked out yet.

There had been other girls who’d left. Bed empty after being injured, or crying, or talking back in ways that, even to Natasha, had felt rude.

The wind is cold. Though the ice has melted the world still holds a chill.

They’d been to this clearing before, fought here before, and Natasha was accustomed to fighting bare footed and without weapons.

“Line up,” the command comes.

The girls do as ordered.

Natasha exchanges looks with Freya, her friend looking determined and fierce.

She notes her friend’s bravery and uses it to calm her own fluttering heart.

It’s different today and they all know.

The twenty four girls are made to spar, lightly until they’re warmed up, going through the motions of hitting and being hit.

Four adults stand to her left, and she sees Madam and Dreykov standing behind them.

Her body feels cold, fear of both of them allowing one of the girls to sweep her legs.

She falls heavily.

Helped up, she whispers to her what she saw, and the message gets passed down the line.

Natasha often feels targeted by the two adults. They stare at her and she feels frustrated at the higher standard she’s seemingly held to.

She stands straighter as the round ends and they’re lined up again.

Now separated, they stand on either side of two lines marked in the dirt.

The adults move closer and Madam claps twice.

The girls stand straighter, eyes forward just as they’ve been trained.

“This is a test,” she announces. “You will fight until one of you wins.”

She walks between the lines to look at all of the girls.

“How you do that is up to you. You will be marked on how you do this. This will be done in silence. You must not scream, or cry or ask for help. Once in the arena, you are on your own. No one will help you except yourself.”

Natasha’s nerves rise.

She’s glad she’s not at the front of the line.

Briselle, one of the older girls, steps forward; her opponent is Sasha.

Natasha knows the outcome before they even fight.

A single knife is thrown in the middle of the arena.

Madam steps forward and Dreykov and the other four sit on chairs set up for them.

The girls sit along the outside, still in their lines, legs tucked under, fists on top of knees.

Briselle smiles as Sasha lunges for the knife.

She lets her pick it up and then kicks out at her.

Sasha moves back, using her momentum to feint left and swipe right.

The knife passes close to Brisselle’s neck.

The shock on her face pronounced, as Sasha presses her advantage.

Natasha had fought Sasha before. When Sasha was scared, she became desperate.

Briselle shouldn’t underestimate her, just because she looks like a scared little girl.

Briselle kicks out and makes contact with Sasha’s chest.

The kick is clearly winding, as Sasha gasps, her fist tightening harder around the knife. Brisselle presses the advantage, throwing another kick at her prone body on the floor. Sasha scrambles up, blocking it with her forearms, grabbing at a leg and attempting a throw without conviction.

Briselle’s weight seems an advantage as she holds her ground, her held foot flips up, catching Sasha under the chin.

The girl’s body sprawls, knife flying from her hand.

Briselle picks it up, kicks her and points it at her neck.

“Until one of you wins,” Madam reminds.

Briselle’s smile falters.

She doesn’t know what that means; but Sasha seems to. The crack of Briselle’s leg is loud, she shouts in pain. Sasha’s movements are quick. The first cut along her thighs and the second along her neck. Bloor pours from the wounds.

Natasha looks on in shock.

Sasha’s desperation to win had come at the cost of Briselle’s life.

The girl was dying in front of them.

Natasha feels sick.

An adult that Natasha doesn’t know pulls Briselle’s broken, gasping body away. Sasha looks at her bloody hands and is ordered by Madam to line up.

The girls hear a gunshot and all know what it means.

Sasha’s eyes go wide as she watches, her mouth opening with an outward breath. Tears leak from her eyes.

Two girls look wildly around and cry out.

Natasha’s head doesn’t move, but her eyes scan the other girls, some of whom were also crying, their predicament clear now. The years of training culminating in this.

The next two opponents stand, legs shaking, fear on their faces.

“Fight.”

Madam’s voice breaks the silence.

An endless minute seems to pass before one of the girls lunges for the knife.

The fight is short.

Clearly overpowered, the younger girl sobs as the other girl cries that she’s sorry.

The arena is bloody by the time it is Natasha’s turn. She rises on heels but doesn’t look at the girl in front of her. She knows her, but in those moments, she knows that she cannot acknowledge her.

“Fight.”

The knife is the obvious play, but the other girl is taller and reaches it quicker.

Natasha runs through the knife defenses, anticipating the lunge forward. She sidesteps, bending the girl’s wrist, and using her momentum against her. The angle of the wrist weakens her hold onto the knife and it drops to the bloody floor.

She kicks it out of the way, and slaps her heavily, knowing if she punches she’d hurt herself.

Her palm stings.

Avoiding the next punch, then kick, Natasha fights back, returning with a kick to the girl’s head.

It hits with a resounding thud.

The girl stumbles back, tripping on the knife.

Natasha lunges for it and the girl wrestles her for it.

Then arms back, the girl reaches for something that Natasha can’t see.

Natasha grabs the knife, but a rock smacks her in the head.

Natasha collapses.

Dazed, Natasha's vision blurs. She feels the girl climb on top of her, raising the rock again, readying to hit Natasha a second time.

But Natasha’s holding the knife upward between them, and as the girl leans forward it sticks between her ribs, killing her with a quiet “oh”.

The rock drops.

The unconventional weapon falling next to Natasha’s head as she huffs breaths.

Panic.

She has no thoughts in her head as she’s told to stand, her opponent dragged back.

Blood drips from her forehead and she touches it blankly.

The rest of the battles finish without Natasha registering who is still alive.

All she can think of is the knife pushing into the girl’s body.

Her chest feels so tight. Only the slightest amount of air seems to break through.

Her hands shake and she sits on them to hide it.

Natasha wants nothing more than to be left alone.

The knife.

She focuses herself by biting the inside of her mouth.

Her head hurts.

Still bleeding, she blinks it away from her eyes.

Madam stands in front of them.

“Do you know why it’s the silent knife?” Madam asks, picking the weapon up.

Twelve girls, bloody and bruised and traumatised, stare into space.

The four adults stand, Dreykov in front of them.

“You are part of the Red Room. Silent killers. You must know how to kill; friends, family, foe.”

She paces.

Placing a knife in front of each of them, Madam motions to it.

“You have passed this test. From now on, this knife is yours. Your right to own. From now on, the training will only get harder.”

Natasha eyes the bloody knife in front of her.

Sniffing, and wiping her face, she decides it was a friend and not a foe.

She picks it up cleans it with her clothing.

Clint sits back, his heart hurting at her story.

“Once we passed, we had to mark ourselves. The first kill. The mark, the one you see there, that’s the brand. That woman was a widow.”

She bites her lip.

She hates the story.

Telling it felt like it was someone’s else’s story.

“Can, uh, can we stop?”

Clint nods, not asking any more questions.

She’s sure it’s been recorded, but in that moment she doesn’t care. She wants to return to her cell. In that moment feeling, more than ever, like she belongs in one.

She’s made peace with most of her other kills.

But that first one…

Natasha clenches her fists and lets them go in time with her breathing.

She just feels old and tired.

#whumptober 2024 #day 7 #unconventional weapon #warnings at start of chapter #natasha romanoff #Natasha Romanoff fic #red room fic #clintasha #black widow #my fic #clint barton #clintasha fanfic #clintasha fanfiction #hawkeye #marvel fic #black widow fic #black widow x

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orbmanson7 · 1 year ago

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Will Logan Ever Be Happy?

An Extensive Analysis of Logan Sanders' Spotify Playlist and Predictions for the Future of His Character Arc

Logan's Playlist on Spotify

Logan's Playlist on YouTube Music

A few quick notes before we delve in…

This is an extensive analysis in the sense that it's currently around 16,930 words long. Please feel free to read it at your own leisure.

The description of Logan's Playlist on Spotify explicitly states to listen to these songs in order of their listing. This indicates a progression of sorts – of feelings, events, and the plot of the story being told here. It is important that we listen in order, and it seems like Logan would prefer us to listen this way to best understand what it is he is trying to convey.

The repeated themes found throughout many of these songs include: isolation, depression, regret, nostalgia, perfectionism, miscommunication, being the odd one out of a group, recognition of flaws, loss of control, being disliked, a love and familiarity for learning, and finding solutions to problems.

It should also be noted that a handful of these songs are told in second-person perspective, using “you” to indicate a main subject, as though the story is being told by the speaker about someone else’s actions to that someone else, rather than explaining anything outright about themself or how they feel about it. By doing this, the speaker is instead choosing to focus on others and only allowing the listener to sense and interpret how the speaker was affected by what the other party in the song had said or done. This by itself can easily indicate Logan’s insistence to let others take that stage, even when it’s his turn to tell his story, or to show off the faults of others in lieu of focusing on his own failings.

It may be important to remember that as we continue.

The Elements by Tom Lehrer is a simple starter song, as we know. Logan began as a friendly teacher character, someone to help guide Thomas through learning and encouraging curiosity and wonder within him. He helped Thomas to find solutions to problems with the most useful answers, and implored him to keep trying, keep researching, until he truly understood a topic. This was something good, something commendable.

In particular, this song involves a listing of the complete periodic table of elements, something that Logan, as Thomas’ Logic, likely would have to have known very well, considering the focus of Thomas’ major in college. This would have been information Logan used frequently in Thomas’ studies and schoolwork prior to the events of the series, which helps to signify this early interpretation of Logan’s character.

This is the early beginnings. It’s a solid starting point, telling us what we need to know about Thomas’ perception of who he believes Logan is meant to be.

Immediately after, we have White and Nerdy by Weird Al Yankovic, which, similar to the first song, is meant to give us a sense of Logan’s character. Thomas sees him as a helpful teacher, but he also sees him as a very nerdy, reserved, uptight, and pretentious kind of person who likes learning trivia and reading mystery novels and watching sci-fi shows and doing puzzles and making wordplay jokes. This fleshes Logan out more as a character, not just showing us who Thomas sees but giving us more perspective on what to expect from him.

[lyrics:

I wanna roll with the gangsters

But so far, they all think I’m too white and nerdy]

Early on in the series, the sides only appeared momentarily to help offer suggestions and advice to Thomas relevant to what he needed. There seemed to be less cohesion with the group, mainly due to a lack of narrative at the time, but the sides still appeared to work together so long as each stayed in their respective areas of expertise. Despite that, lyrics in this song seem to imply Logan had already seen himself as an outlier to the rest of Thomas’ sides. He recognized that this came at fault of the interpretation of his character, the personality he displayed, his mannerisms, even his interests.

From the very start, Logan was being viewed as something different and distinct in comparison to the other sides.

These first two songs are meant to be reminiscent of not only our first impressions of Logan’s character, but also of Thomas’ overall impression of him early on in the series.

Within the first few episodes, this is how Logan was interpreted and seen, as a nerdy but supportive teacher-like character. Based on Thomas’ vine character of the same attire, Logan was originally meant to be respected but relatable, someone who could understand the kids he was teaching, but was also full of incredibly useful knowledge and knew exactly how to convey that information in a way that would encourage and enlighten those around him.

As one of Thomas’ sides, however, he was minimized to only being Thomas’ Logic, someone who still had an incredible wealth of knowledge and used it to teach and guide Thomas specifically, but he was also someone who was meant to be more stereotypically “nerdy” by Thomas’ standards. He was still able to act as an instructor to Thomas and to the audience watching, but his status of authority was diminished, because now he was no longer a teacher, he was merely another part of Thomas.

This is where Algorhthym by Childish Gambino comes into play. This song indicates a recognition of the world and how it functions, but also a fear to do anything about it, to step out of line. This lends to Logan’s perfectionism, yes, but it also shows that Logan is highly aware of his position as Thomas’ Logic, and what is expected of him. He knows very well that he does not perfectly fit the mold that Thomas has made for him to fill.

Early in the song, there are mentions of misunderstanding directions and testing the waters in objectionable ways.

[lyrics:

Made us the guinea pig and did it with no permission

Told her to call a friend, didn’t tell her to listen

So very scary, so binary, zero or one

Like code is like coal mine canary]

Being put in a position without a choice in the matter, Logan is very aware that he has a big role to fulfill. He’s being depended on to do his job right. But there has, at no point, been any guidance for him to follow. It’s not as though there’s a training manual out there on how to be Thomas Sanders’ Logic, which means Logan can only attempt to figure it out as he goes along.

Now, this is no different from the other sides, as they all lack any kind of instruction on how to do their jobs, either. They all just have to make mistakes and learn from them to improve and get better with time. And, typically, this should be a good thing, but in Logan’s particular case, his job requires him to be relied upon as the one with the answers and solutions, so if he’s seen as someone who makes mistakes, that ruins his ability to be trusted to give those answers in the first place.

Making mistakes would contradict his purpose as Thomas’ Logic, but if he didn’t make mistakes, he couldn’t learn from them and get better like the rest of them. However, it’s inevitable that he will make mistakes because he has no idea how to do this job because he didn’t have any training involved before he started. But if he makes mistakes, he could lose that job, or the job itself could become misconstrued or defunct due to his failures. It’s an unpleasant and repeated cycle with no clear end.

Logan aims for perfection, knowing the risk of failure is so high and comes with such consequence, but he still has hope that something might work out. He also doesn’t seem to have much of a choice otherwise.

But he's already beginning to loop back around in circles over this, even so early on into the series, and this leads him to questioning why the world works this way. Just why does it contradict itself so much?

[lyrics:

I dream in color, not black and white]

He already realizes that he is seeing everything in a different way than Thomas and the other sides do. The world is so much bigger than the arbitrary parameters that are being set for it. Understanding and learning may need rigid guidelines to teach a beginner, to not overwhelm them, but once you know the basics, you can take those training wheels off and start exploring just about anywhere. If you want to try more adventurous feats, you’ll need better gear, more specified knowledge, but it’s not as though you are barred from entry. There is always more to learn, you simply have to go looking for it.

But the world somehow seems to think that’s not the case. Many believe that you either know something or you don’t, or that things can only be either one way or another, with no nuance involved. Instead of understanding all the shades of gray and color in between every moment, every idea, that there’s fluidity and the ability to shift and change at almost every turn, they choose to rely on what they’ve already learned and refuse to challenge it, even when the opportunity arises to do so. The world has so much more to offer than the black-and-white to which people often cling.

There’s so much space in between every atom, infinite amounts of empty air, that which we can barely comprehend, yet we see an object, a person, or any full form as completely solid, contradicting what we expect. We may say a penguin cannot fly, and yet you could put one as a passenger on an airplane and that could be considered flying. It has just done what was thought impossible. It is all about our perspective and the rules we set in place for our world that limits what we believe we know and understand, but that doesn’t mean that’s how the world actually works.

Unfortunately, changing someone’s mind can be very difficult, especially when you’re the one who contributed to them learning those basics to help them conceptualize the topic in the first place. It can be very hard to teach someone that knowledge is genuinely limitless, especially when they have found less use for it as time goes on and no longer have a desire to keep learning.

The song then indicates that the way a human behaves doesn’t always make logical sense, but that they value their life and experiences.

[lyrics:

Humans don’t understand, humans will sell a lie

Humans gotta survive, we know we gon’ die

Nothing can live forever, you know we gon’ try

Life, is it really worth it? The algorhythm is perfect, mmh]

Logan can comprehend this notion, even if he doesn’t quite understand and see the world in the same way as Thomas does; even if he believes some of his actions are illogical, he knows Thomas’ ability to live his life to the fullest is something memorable. He can recognize its importance overall, even if he doesn’t fully agree with how it’s done.

Logan likely comes to realize by this point, even so early on, that compromise is the best option here, just as we saw in the episode The Mind vs The Heart. Even if he doesn’t see things in the same way as others, he can still meet someone halfway, and hope that they can meet him halfway in return.

However, nothing is ever that easy, it seems. Just because he’s willing to step back and take another’s perspective into account does not mean others will do the same for him.

This more or less encapsulates the rest of the song from his perspective. He learns to stop challenging that which doesn’t want to be challenged, attempts to follow what is expected of him, even if what is expected of him is a perfection that he is unsure can even be achieved. He has to compromise some of these details and nuances so that the world can still run on its bizarre rules, for Thomas’ sake, and this results in him having to step away from his goals to make way for the others’ instead, or even to be pushed away when his insistence to the contrary isn’t appreciated, like we saw in the episode Moving On Pt 1: Exploring Nostalgia.

He learned fairly well that day that sometimes emotions took priority over intelligence, and even if Logan didn’t fully comprehend the purpose they served in solving that dilemma, he was attempting to find a proper answer that would be of benefit to Thomas regardless. But what he learned instead was that his efforts were unwanted simply because he was viewing the situation from a very different perspective than the others were.

As such, he began to learn not to question these parameters that the world operates upon. He needs to do what he can Within those parameters to ensure Thomas’ survival and simply hope that he’ll thrive with knowledge (and Logan) as his guide.

And that is exactly why the next song is Fitter Happier by Radiohead. The whole song is a monotonous text-to-speech vocalization of varying guidelines one may expect for someone to appear as and/or be human. As the list goes on, the more inhuman the stipulations become, betraying the real purpose behind the list, that this is someone attempting to appear perfectly human while misunderstanding what that means entirely.

Again, Logan was never given a guide on how to do his job, so he had to just make it up as he went along and attempt to do it perfectly without any help or reassurance. From Logan’s perspective, he knows his goal is to make sure Thomas survives to live his happy life, but his expertise in helping Thomas achieve this relies on knowledge and facts, not emotions or empathy. This results in Logan’s attempts coming off as unempathetic, cold, and strict, not to mention completely missing the point of living.

But because he is doing this solo, and because he has awareness of the consequences of failure, he is aiming for perfection and doing his best with what resources he does have – which happens to be his own intelligence and what he can learn through research. Unfortunately, when it comes to life and living, Logan’s limited only to the facts, and his primary focus is Thomas’ survival, nothing more.

[lyrics:

Not drinking too much

Regular exercise at the gym, three days a week

Getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries

At ease

Eating well, no more microwave dinners and saturated fats

A patient, better driver]

This is why some of the lyrics list guidelines such as “regular exercise at the gym” or “eating well, no more microwave dinners and saturated fats.” These are the types of recommendations you would hear from a doctor or nutritionist, examples of efforts that may result in longer life. If someone only cared about extending their life or living healthily, these would be excellent suggestions. But when they are devoid of any emotion, removed from relationships with family and friends, absent of aspirations and goals for someone to enjoy said life, the suggestions instead become robotic and inhuman. Yes, you can live longer by following these steps, but you may not enjoy the extra time you are given to do so if you only follow these suggestions and nothing more.

This is something that was discussed during the Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning? episode, where Logan asserts that creating a balance of daily tasks to maintain his wellbeing will allow Thomas to live a long life. Roman argues that if Thomas spends all his time taking care of himself, it doesn’t give him enough time to pursue his dreams and he insists that he must instead take risks and give priority to his aspirations. In the end, Thomas found his motivation in a balance of both of these recommendations, that he should maintain his health while also taking the chance to achieve his goals.

While a human genuinely needs that balance, to have both sides of this argument included to find true motivation to keep going, these individual sides within Thomas are always likely to see their own mindset and opinion on the matter as the priority, as the “right” way to do things. This is exemplified by Patton’s addition during the end credits scene, where he offers his opinion on the topic about having the opportunity to add positivity to the world. His belief is only an addition to the discussion and wouldn’t detract from Logan and Roman’s suggestions, but it shows that each of Thomas’ sides have their own views on what the real answer is meant to be and that they do not agree on this notion, even if they do see eye-to-eye at times or are willing to work together for Thomas’ sake.

This song is likely meant to remind us of that episode specifically, and what Logan’s opinions on the matter were at that time, indicating his goal is for Thomas to maintain a balanced and healthy lifestyle so that he has the ability to survive and live a long life. It shows us that without the others, there is a lack of balance, but it also shows that Logan is striving for perfection, with special regard to Thomas’ needs, not necessarily his wants or desires. After all, that’s Roman’s department, right?

And this is a big factor in why the sides don’t often get along with each other. They each have their own idea of what is actually best for Thomas, and when it comes to Logan, he has an easier time arguing his points because he has all the data to back him up. This doesn’t keep the others from fighting against him, nor does it keep Thomas from taking the others’ side anyway on many occasions, but it’s still something he can rely on when everyone else is against him.

But even if he cares about Thomas’ survival most, is what he’s proposing truly the “right” way to go about it?

If he learned anything from Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning?, the ending of this song may indicate he recognizes that Thomas may well live a long life with his suggestions, but would not necessarily be happy in that life, so perhaps perfection isn’t the right goal to have in mind.

Happiness, however, can be very subjective. For instance, happiness to Logan would likely involve the satisfaction of a job well done, or the opportunity to learn something new, so what would life for Thomas be if he couldn’t have that?

This is what leads us into the next song, Medicine by STRFKR, which continues the thoughts on perfectionism and the problems that arise from it. Perhaps due to the events associated with the last song, Logan has come to realize that the goal of being perfect is either truly unattainable or, as this song seems to suggest, prevents the desire to continue learning once reached. Logan, of course, would not want Thomas to have peaked when it comes to obtaining knowledge, as there will always be something you don’t know, there will always be something new to learn. If perfection removes a desire to know more, he wouldn’t be able to encourage Thomas to learn anything new, even something for his survival. As such, his goal of perfection is flawed.

However, this now completely conflicts with his earlier notions about his own aspirations of perfection, as he must be knowledgeable and helpful for Thomas, to provide him with what he needs without flaw, without failure. He must be perfect, but perfection is not possible. He must be perfect, but perfection begets disinterest and prevents further learning. So, perfection should not be his goal because it will be of overall detriment to Thomas.

His new goal needs to be something else, but he must still maintain something as close to perfection as possible, because Thomas’ perception of him cannot be altered. Thomas will still expect perfection of him, but he can never truly attain it because it’s both impossible and would ultimately remove his purpose to Thomas as Logic. Such a feat is even more difficult to achieve than perfection, so he’s very much stuck at this point and will need to figure out a new solution to this complicated problem.

[lyrics:

Sorry

So helpless

So help you

Any way you like]

When in doubt, Logan knows he can turn to one thing: Thomas’ preference on the matter. If Logan can’t decide on the best course of action, he will instead choose whatever it is that Thomas wants, as that is how he may obtain his happiness even when working with a less-than-perfect Logic.

After all, if perfection was not the true goal, then perhaps it was meant to be whatever Thomas wanted instead. Logan didn’t need to reach perfection, he just needed to reach Thomas’ expectations. The goalpost had moved, but it was still in sight, and now he’d just have to create a new strategy in order to find success, meaning it was time for some experimentation to his approach.

[lyrics:

(spoken behind music)

The following of them does not depend on believing in anything, in obeying anything, or on doing any specific rituals

Although rituals are included for certain purposes because it is a purely experimental approach to life]

Between the events of Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning? and Learning New Things About Ourselves was a fun little promo episode known as Crofter's: The Musical, and while it may not seem all that relevant in the grand scheme of things, it’s important to remember the focus of the episode relied on Logan’s extraordinary adoration of Crofter's jam.

Given his love for the product, he was ecstatic at his opportunity to be recognized through that which he admired – by being featured on a specialized version of the product itself. It’s a high honor, it’s respectable, it’s cherished. This is a great moment for Logan, seeing a lot of his efforts come to fruition in an interesting and unique way.

However, it is soured by Roman’s bruised ego, as he prefers his spotlight and sees this one moment as Logan being viewed more favorably than him overall, and then it is further ruined by the mention of Logan’s wordplay and puns throughout the episode as him acting unusual, notably unserious. Logan becomes rather concerned during the end credits scene as the others point this out about him, and he realizes that he needs to maintain the status quo after all.

His experimentation in finding a balance, of what was acceptable and what was not, resulted in him understanding that he could not engage in sillier interests publicly so as not to alter the others’ perception of him and his purpose to Thomas or tarnish his reputation as a practical, reliable, knowledgeable side. He must continue to keep emotions removed from his position as Logic, even with perfection off the table as a motivating factor.

Now, before we move on to the next song, I want to re-establish whereabout in the timeline of the series we are by this point.

We had the early origins near the start with The Elements song and White and Nerdy, which likely took place somewhere within the first couple episodes that featured Logan. We dipped into Algorhythm, which likely took place around the time the actual plot and deeper characterization began appearing in the show, somewhere between The Mind vs The Heart and Moving On Pt 1 & 2. Then, Fitter Happier seems to strike some similar chords as the episode Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning? from Logan’s perspective alone, meaning we’re fairly far into the series already. Medicine is somewhere around Crofters: The Musical, which means we are about to get to Learning New Things About Ourselves.

That was an episode that definitely served as a big turning point for Logan and how he readdressed his role as Thomas’ Logic and perceived how he was meant to fulfill his position.

This is also the point in the playlist where things seem to take a much darker and negative turn.

For now, we move on to the next song, which is The Watchtower by The Dø.

Now, @intrulogical has a great analysis of the meaning that may be associated with this song from Logan’s perspective, that Logan may overthink and prefer to hide away from others out of shame when he doesn’t perform adequately, that he recognizes his mistakes and has, on multiple occasions, offered to leave the discussion in order to benefit the others and Thomas. He has taken to suggesting his removal from the situation when he doesn’t seem to have the solution they need or when he has become emotional in times where he shouldn’t be, meaning that he has come to realize it may be a better option for him to leave, rather than stay and potentially make the situation worse.

We already know that he has come to understand perfection is not possible but must still maintain something akin to it, feeling shame when mistakes are inevitable. We know he experimented with his approach to no avail, where he learned he must remain emotionless and cold to be successful. The amount of stress from trying to meet expectations, maintain restrictions, and adapt himself for the others’ benefit is beginning to take its toll on him.

The Watchtower is a song that seems to suggest Logan’s methods are what make him a true outlier among the group, but the lyrics literally start out with “I’m breaking, I need another start” which would mean this is a reaction to his stressful situation, not an action Logan chose in advance.

But he is still prepared when reacting like this. He has weighed the options; he has taken past experiences into account. He has more knowledge now on how to be Thomas’ Logic in a way that fits Thomas’ expectations, and he is no longer blindly attempting to do his best without failure and is instead using what failures he’s already had to recontextualize his understanding and guide his next actions.

But he still needs to appear as flawless as he possibly can, for Thomas and the others, so that he still embodies his role as Logic, so that he can still be relied on and trusted to do his job. While he recognizes perfection is not possible, he will still get as close to it as he can.

While stress may be a factor, this may explain some of the true motivation behind his desire to hide away in these moments, or at least his belief that it would be easier to solve these dilemmas from farther away.

[lyrics:

From the watchtower

Where we can see things coming

Good or bad, at least we see things coming

From the watchtower

Where we can read the future

Whatever it says, at least we know what’s up]

Within these lyrics, we can see that this is a very divorced perspective to have, as though Logan prefers to solve issues from a distance, removed from the situation itself and able only to view it, not directly interact with the parties involved.

Using his influence on Thomas to solve the issue without being present in Moving On Pt 2 after he abruptly left in Moving On Pt 1, Logan has shown that he can be successful when he isn’t there to be talked over and insulted, be overwhelmed by everyone’s emotions and concerns, or have his own uncontrolled emotional outbursts. He can stay unbiased, practical, and clear-headed from a distance and achieve the best results.

This explains why he attempted to leave after his outburst in the episode Learning New Things About Ourselves, because he had seen prior success in doing so.

However, it’s clear that there are some consequences to this approach.

[lyrics:

I don’t mind

if I’m impopular

I’m thinking

And no one in particular]

Another repeated notion throughout the series that Logan is now well aware of is that he is not very well liked. While this seems to stem from a combination of the expectations put on him and his stricter handling of the others’ more outlandish ideas, at this point, and the lyrics suggest he tries to make it seem as though it doesn’t bother him. But we know otherwise, because Logan does continue to attempt to garner favor from Thomas, the other sides, and the audience. It’s why he picked up the slang word flashcards, and it’s partly why he tries to use more relatable metaphors and analogies to explain complicated subjects. He does want to be liked, respected, and Heard, even if he claims otherwise.

His attempts to remove himself from the group to benefit Thomas and perform his duties from afar only seem to add to this dislike that’s been building for him. His absence prevents him from building and maintaining any relationship with the other sides (not that he was making much progress with that around that time in the series regardless). When he has his outburst in Learning New Things About Ourselves and tries to then leave the discussion entirely, he is quickly stopped by Patton who insists he stay instead. He would have preferred to leave, knowing he was more beneficial to Thomas if he was unemotional. Unfortunately, because he stays, he is unable to resolve the issue for Thomas like he had before, and instead spent the rest of the episode uncomfortable and unable to relate to the emotional concepts that were applied.

He comes away from that situation recognizing his own misunderstanding of the others’ actions in their attempts to help Thomas, but there is no solution found, only a slight improvement to Thomas’ mood about the discussion on the whole. And on Logan’s part, he was also left without a solution, resulting in him adding this as another failure to his list and believing that he will need to do more to better accommodate the other sides and Thomas’ emotions in order to achieve the best results.

[lyrics:

I’m breaking

I need another start

Far away from the city lights]

This follows the lyrics at the end of the song, repeating exactly how it started. Nothing was resolved here; Logan only sees his mistake and feels ashamed for it. He still wants to solve Thomas’ issues from a distance, but now he’s more aware of the emotional stakes that he hadn’t been implementing in his solutions before this point.

He has decided that he’ll do better, but he isn’t sure how to do that exactly, and he’s still hurting, but that’s left unacknowledged.

And Logan only comes to realize that the others are pulling away after this, as we see in Selfishness vs Selflessness, where he wasn't included in the courtroom scenario and pushed to the back and out of the way after the one moment where he could be helpful.

Logan can see that this is what Thomas and the others want for him, to stay out of their way, because he apparently can't understand them in the way they prefer. Never mind the fact that the inverse is true, too.

And that leads us to the next song, The Breach by clipping.. At a minimum, this song is very concerning, but also a helpful indicator as to what seems to be happening and possibly even why.

[lyrics:

Generally operating normally

A small anomaly has become evident

And probably should be noted]

In simple terms, something has changed, and likely not for the better. Something is different.

If we’re aware of the timeline of the story, this is sometime after the episode Learning New Things About Ourselves, which means it's likely about Remus’ arrival in Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts and how it signifies Thomas’ declining mental health.

Something specific that should be mentioned about this song first is its lyrics. They are read as a computer observing a situation, assessing the variables, and stating plainly the solution to be enacted by others. This is similar to what Logan was able to successfully do in Moving On Pt 2 and would have preferred to use as his approach in Learning New Things About Ourselves, which is to stay distant from the situation itself but address everything calmly and without emotional disruption.

However, the lyrics are also given in very quick succession, indicating a hastiness to the necessity of these instructions. This could mean that if the subject does not act swiftly, the results may not be optimal.

[lyrics:

First: the recommended course of action should be to

Administer a sedative to all the cargo via ventilation

The ship is fully capable of automating this

But requires an approval code from the administration]

As he learned in Learning New Things About Ourselves, Logan has to better accommodate the other sides’ emotions (as well as Thomas’) and their concerns on the matter in order to competently resolve the issue, so appearing and calmly explaining what needs to be done is the approach he chose. But that didn’t work out at first due to the same issues he’s been having this whole time, which is everyone’s reluctance to listen to him as well as their insistence on keeping him out of the group, especially while they are all so emotional themselves in that moment.

In order for this to work, he would need to convince Thomas and the others to trust him and to listen to what he had to say. In reality, Logan can only give them the advice they need here, he can’t actually fix it for them, hence the lyric, “but requires an approval code from the administration.” They can’t logic their way out of this but using logic can guide them away from the overly emotional response and provide the instructions needed to find that solution.

Logan applies the instructions from the song – administer a sedative? Calm the others back down. The importance of alacrity? Speak with confidence, stay positive. Send security immediately? Logan took charge of the situation at hand because no one else was handling it.

Logan keeps himself level-headed, refuses to show any emotional response (not to Remus, not to Virgil, not to Patton), and displays his worth as Thomas’ Logic to the best of his ability. And it works fairly well, as he manages to calm the other sides and Thomas down while also warding Remus off and tiring him out. It took longer than he probably expected, but he accomplished what he had set out to do.

Despite the end of the song sounding like an electric-powered warzone, the episode Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts had ended on a positive note for Logan, as he was praised by Thomas for being cool, with how he handled the situation so smoothly and didn’t let anything affect him. This marked a success for Logan, and he now knows that addressing situations with swift action, getting right to the point while also allowing for the other parties to vent their feelings on the matter, and staying composed and unemotional himself while addressing the problem was the best course of action, at least while Thomas was in this type of mindset and far more stressed than he had been in the past.

Perhaps he really has finally figured out how to be a proper Logic for Thomas after all.

Unfortunately, whatever elation he had in that episode doesn’t last long, as our next song, Letter C by Zach Sherwin, is all about being embarrassed by others and reflecting back on the situation later to think of something cleverer that could have been said in response.

As this is something he has dealt with a handful of times in the series as a whole, Logan wishing he could have thought up a better comeback to the others’ insults in the moment is not unheard of, and it could easily be inferred that he’s done this type of reflection on his own many times.

[lyrics:

And now it’ll linger forever but I’ve been stewin’ over

What I’d say to him if I could do it over]

The song lyrics mention how this situation lingers, that it’s something Logan thinks about repeatedly, even though we know there have been multiple moments like this. He remembers it for a long time, he thinks back on each one, wishing he could have done something more when he had the chance.

This is a moment more steeped in pride than obligation to his duty as Logic, however. While his desire to be viewed as clever and informed comes from the expectations of him as Thomas’ Logic, his desire to be respected as Better than the other sides in this particular way does not.

As was told in Learning New Things About Ourselves, it seems Logan habitually criticizes the others and becomes more standoffish in response to stress and a lack of order, as though the lack of control in a situation supercedes his judgement on how to behave among the other sides. In attempt to regain that control, he tries to place himself and his importance in the matter above others, which only causes additional problems.

In reality, all the sides should be balancing each other out, but the system currently in place is not balanced at all, and we often see sides like Logan further down the ranks than others on a regular basis. This can explain his desire to level it back out or rise even higher, to prove that he should be listened to and respected, and he could easily convince himself that his reason for this desire stems from his necessity to Thomas as opposed to any correlated feelings of shame or pride.

Thomas needs his logical side, someone to act as his voice of reason when the others are too emotional and rowdy, someone to provide unbiased facts instead of the others’ leaning opinions, someone that he can trust to always be in his corner and do what’s best for him every time. While the others turn Thomas’ gaze to the future or the past, Logan does everything he can to keep him steady in the present, so long as Thomas actually listens.

Logan had spent a lot of time to change and be better for Thomas, to meet and exceed his expectations. He adapted his thoughts, his methods, his temperament, all to best accommodate Thomas and his needs. So, it makes a lot of sense that he’d have a lot left unsaid after everything he has tolerated throughout the series. He wishes he could have the respect he believes he’s owed instead of continuing to endure insults left and right, but for now, he can only make up such scenarios where he comes out on top in his mind.

A moment of respite comes with what's next on the playlist, Galaxy Song from Monty Python (as sung by Stephen Hawking), which has a delightful message of enjoying the wonder found in our universe. There’s already so much to learn on our planet, but there’s endlessly more available to us out in the rest of the ever-expanding universe.

The song jabs at the inevitable stupidity of some people but chooses not to complain or find a way to be better than them. Instead, one should choose to refocus on something positive, to distract themself rather than to dwell on it. It’s better to think about something you enjoy rather than something you hate, right? And this makes it seem as though it’s a response to the last song in this way, that Logan has dealt with another insult or stressful situation and was unable to respond in the way he preferred, so now he’s choosing to ignore it and think about something fascinating to pass his time in a healthier and nonjudgmental way. Ignoring the situation is no better than stewing over it, but at least this way he gets to think about something he appreciates.

Neither of these songs seem to have a particular place in the overall storyline from the series, by the way. They seem to embody multiple similar occurrences over the course of the show, indicating that this has happened before, continues to happen, and will likely keep happening in the future. However, it’s not a great situation to repeatedly have to handle, especially if Logan is still as stressed as we know he is, and if he simply keeps permitting it to happen without speaking up properly about why it bothers him, then it will never change.

The next song, Streaks, is itself a very interesting song that embodies a lot of nostalgia, both good and bad, that Logan holds about his past with Thomas – teaching him, helping him study, guiding his path through school and college. Sadly, we know that Thomas proceeded to let his Chemical Engineering degree collect dust so he could instead pursue an acting career and become a successful Youtuber as an adult. To Logan, these more creative interests overtook his studies and Thomas’ potential for a stable and well-earning career.

[lyrics:

All these years of filling out papers

Building a future

Keeping your head down

Tryin’ to keep a head on your shoulders

Keep it creative

Make it your own somehow]

From these lyrics, we can see the inclusion of creativity as a secondary to getting the work done, showing something that was discussed in Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning? as Logan proposed that Thomas maintaining a healthy lifestyle and doing his work tasks needed to take priority over creative pursuits and aspirations. This could imply that, during Thomas’ school years, Logan may have had a lot more say in what Thomas should do to be successful in his classes and to get into college, and that he didn’t turn away Thomas’ interest in creativity but preferred it to not take priority over his schoolwork.

But, as we know, what may have started as a creative outlet soon grew into a genuine interest and then a full acting career that negated the entire point of all of Logan’s hard work. If Thomas had wanted to be an actor or a Youtuber all along, why did Logan put so much effort into getting Thomas to study, to do his work, to get into college, to earn his degree? He couldn’t even be proud of such an accomplishment because it served no purpose to Thomas as an adult. It didn’t signify anything except wasted effort on Logan’s part.

[lyrics:

Throw ‘em in the water

Let ‘em sink or float

Give ‘em what they need to move on

Then you let them go]

This sounds like something you’d hear from a parent watching their child grow up and move onto adulthood and pursue their own life away from the family home.

Logan had done his part, he taught and guided Thomas in everything he needed to know in order to achieve success. And when it came time for Thomas to follow through, he proceeded to veer off to a completely different path and Logan could do nothing but watch it happen. Thankfully, though, Thomas Had found success, just not in a way that Logan had expected.

He hadn’t even prepared for this type of eventuality – it was unknown territory.

But Logan could adapt, he could make this work. He’d shown he was able to overcome past obstacles, and he found ways to implement research and education into Thomas’ creative career, giving him an opportunity to still learn something new. He just needed to stay relevant and keep Thomas’ interest and continue encouraging him to learn. However, that proved much harder to do when Thomas refused to listen to him.

Thomas had grown to require much less from Logan over time, having moved away from the days of tests and studying to bigger and better adventures. It left Logan with very little to do for Thomas but maybe to appear when he had no one else to turn to.

It was as though it wasn’t just Thomas’ degree that he’d placed up on a shelf to collect dust, but Logan, too. To stay tucked away, unused for years, only ever coming in handy for very specific situations and nothing but an embarrassment or eyesore in others. What use could he possibly have anymore? Why should Thomas be proud of him when he didn’t need him for anything?

Now, if you’ve noticed, these past few songs seem to lean more heavily toward emotions than the ones that came before them. Letter C was about embarrassment and feeling shame over his mistakes and how he’s been treated, trying to use his pride to combat it. The Galaxy Song was about relief and ignoring the situation to escape to wonder and curiosity as a coping mechanism. And now Streaks is about nostalgia, the wistful longing for what once was, and the painful memory of what came of that despite all his effort.

He’s embarrassed, he’s running away from the problem, he’s sad.

You see, Logan is trying to find a solution here by using something similar to what the other sides might try when they are the ones struggling. He’s copying their methods. Roman leans on his pride to sooth his ego and to make himself feel better, Virgil runs away and hides from his issues, and Patton delves into nostalgia and strengthens his sadness, feeling it deeply.

This implies that Logan doesn’t quite understand how to handle whatever it is that he is feeling, but he's paid close enough attention to what the others have done, even if he doesn't understand why or how it's meant to help. Now that he's searching for some sort of solution on his own, he experiments, tries something new based upon his research and facts, rather than asking for any kind of help.

Remember, he can’t tarnish his image as a near-flawless Logic that is supposed to already know everything, who they’re supposed to be able to rely on. So, he will have to solve this one on his own, too, by just trying things out until he eventually gets it right. That is what the experimental approach is for, after all.

But these emotional songs are only the beginning, and they’re about to take a stark turn.

Next is What I Do For U by Ra Ra Riot, which is a song absolutely steeped in frustration and anger. In so few lyrics, it says a lot of what Logan has been mulling over lately in the storyline. We know his frustration over everything has been building more and more.

[lyrics:

I want you to survive

Anything you need]

This song gets right to the point with its opening lyrics and even the chorus. It tells us that Logan’s efforts, all these recommendations to Thomas, all the schedules and planning, all this encouragement for him to eat healthy and take better care of himself, all his guidance and advice and helpfulness serve one purpose and one purpose alone – to help Thomas survive.

[lyrics:

What I do for you

I do for you]

Everything he does, he does for Thomas.

But does Thomas recognize that? It doesn’t seem so.

And this, of course, bothers Logan. It doesn’t just bother him, it angers him. Logan has put in so much of his time and energy over the years into doing everything perfectly for Thomas, with no help in doing so this entire time. Prioritizing Thomas’ wellness over everything, listening to the others even when he couldn’t understand their emotions, remaining level-headed and calm around their puns and insults and threats, hiding his interests and holding back his words so they wouldn’t think less of him. He has worked against obstacles and odds of which the others aren’t even aware. He has bent and molded and reshaped himself in so many ways to better accommodate everyone else, to match their expectations, to make them happy. He did it for them.

But what does he get in return? Mocked, disrespected, and ignored.

And, worst of all, Logan knows just how important he is to Thomas! Well, in function, at least. Thomas would not survive without Logic, and yet Logan seems to be the only one to recognize that fact. He can’t even be respected for his function, his purpose in keeping Thomas alive and well. It’s one thing if they didn't like Logan, but wasn’t the fact that he was needed for Thomas’ survival enough for them to tolerate him, at the very least?

[lyrics:

I’m your only hope

And I’m your savior too

Every single test

You’ve been ever carried through]

On top of that, and as we saw in the Working Through Intrusive Thoughts asides episode, Logan has been attempting to solve Thomas’ issues by himself, relying on his knowledge and experience with Thomas to determine the best approach in every situation without consulting the other sides at all. At some point in the series, Logan came to believe that he was the only one who actually cared about what Thomas needed, that he was somehow the only one actually keeping Thomas alive. He believes he is the only side who’s clear-headed enough to handle Thomas’ problems, the only one who can act as a voice of reason, the only one who offers practical and useful solutions.

This is, unfortunately for Logan, not actually true, but it makes sense why he would come to this conclusion, considering that every side disagrees on what they think is best for Thomas. The other sides tend to focus on their own self-interests and goals as guiding factors while Logan is the one who deals the most in absolutes and factual information. Something that Roman suggests can be complete fantasy, impossible to ever achieve. Something that Patton suggests can be unreasonable to follow through on or would only hurt Thomas in the long run. Something that Virgil suggests can be rooted in negativity and self-doubt, bringing Thomas’ mental health down as a result. Janus’ suggestions can be incredibly biased and not always socially acceptable. Remus’ suggestions…well. They can be both uncomfortable as well as impractical.

But Logan never gives impossible, impractical, or biased recommendations to Thomas. He uses research to find what would work best for the situation, then applies it to his knowledge and experience with Thomas to determine what would suit him most, and then suggests it outright, explaining in simple terms a way in which it can be implemented.

He does all the hard work for Thomas, so that all he’ll have to do is simply follow through. Each time, he does this with Thomas and his needs at the forefront of every offer.

Yes, he can go overboard a bit, just like all the other sides, but he thinks that just means he needs to be flexible and allow for some exceptions to balance things out, allow Thomas to be happy in his survival. After all, he has learned so much over the course of this series, hasn’t he?

He learned to compromise with those he disagreed with in The Mind vs The Heart. He learned that too much or too little of any side’s influence could bring detriment to Thomas in Accepting Anxiety Pt 1 & 2. He learned that emotions could override intelligence and present a major problem in Moving On Pt 1 & 2. He learned that finding some balance between his suggestions and the others’ was optimal in Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning?. He learned that such balance could not be applied to himself as he had to maintain his role as an unemotional Logic and stay serious in Crofters: The Musical. He learned that he needed to expand his understanding of why Thomas preferred emotions over intelligence despite the need for both in Learning New Things About Ourselves. He learned that the other sides and Thomas could apparently solve their issues without his presence in Selfishness vs Selflessness. He learned that his method of taking action and solving the issue for them when they were too emotional to do it themselves was more efficient in Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts. He learned that, despite his willingness to help, the others much preferred to solve issues without him in Putting Others First. He learned that his method of efficiency in solving Thomas’ problems on his behalf was not particularly welcome and would not earn him the respect he desired in Working Through Intrusive Thoughts. He learned that despite continued efforts, the others still won’t listen to him or to each other in Have I Grown? – Five Years Later. He learned that, as the logical side, the others would always assume he was against them and their ideas in Can Plushies Improve Our Health?

He's learned…a lot. Overall, he has concluded that he is needed but not wanted, that he has the answers but not the perfect method to apply them, that he apparently should allow for emotions to guide the other sides and Thomas while keeping himself cut off from them entirely, and that he should be implementing logic only where it is most required or when specifically requested.

Logan has found what he believes should work best for Thomas, but has also realized that Thomas is refusing to listen. Thomas doesn’t want to do things that benefit him, he doesn’t want to do things that will make him feel better, and Logan certainly can’t force him to do them, either, even when he’s sure it will help. Are the suggestions the problem or is it because it’s Logan suggesting them that keeps him from doing it?

Logan is very determined to perform his function, to keep Thomas alive and well. He wants to empower him to overcome the mental health difficulties he’s been facing lately, and to allow him to take care of his needs, but Logan’s doing all of this by himself because he doesn’t believe anyone else is capable nor wants to do what has to be done.

The other sides prefer to only dabble in the fun parts, the emotional parts, and leave the complicated and messy stuff to Logan alone. And if Thomas refuses to listen just because it’s Logan telling him the answer, then it puts everything at a standstill, including Logan’s purpose for even being there.

It frustrates him. He feels like he’s been put in this unwinnable position, always made out to be the bad guy when all he does is care about Thomas’ survival and wellbeing.

[lyrics:

I couldn’t ever give up on you

But don’t thank me]

He, quite literally, could never stop doing his job as Thomas’ Logic. He could never stop doing his part, keeping everything afloat, making sure that Thomas can still function, even when Thomas’ mental health is fighting against him at every turn.

Throughout all of Working Through Intrusive Thoughts, we see Logan pause or postpone his plans so he can redirect Thomas and attempt to salvage his mental health, give him time to refocus. He knows it’s a priority right now. He has learned time and time again that emotions are more important than logic in this world, even if logic is the reason he knows and can implement ways to help Thomas to calm down and manage those emotions.

Logan knows by now that he can only help when he’s asked to or when he’s needed most, but after every obstacle and barrier he’s managed to push through, after being the only one who cares enough to do anything to help, he’s left tired and frustrated. He just wants Thomas to listen, for once, for his own benefit, so that he might understand what it is Logan hasn’t been able to say because he’s been pushed down and away for so long.

He shouts out “Stop ignoring me!” to Remus, but Remus knows it’s not really him that he wants to yell that at, and he’s right. Logan’s frustration is mostly with Thomas, and this song shows that very clearly.

He won’t give up on him because he physically can’t, but maybe he has stopped caring about why that is. Maybe he will just do his job, meet the bare minimum of expectations, and not care about the rest anymore.

When Thomas asks him “What’s next?” in the Have I Grown? anniversary video, Logan simply responds, “You tell me.”

He knows his opinion doesn’t matter. He knows no one listens to what he has to say. His suggestions are ignored, his advice is unwanted. Why should he bother giving a damn any longer if Thomas and the other sides clearly don’t give a damn about him?

And that’s where we get to the next song, Erase Me by Ben Folds Five.

This is a very pivotal moment, and it’s notable that it seems to be something that will happen in the near future of the series, because, as of the last song, we have already surpassed all currently released (and relevant) episodes of Sanders Sides in this timeline of the playlist. Erase Me will be related to whatever happens next in Logan’s arc, which also means everything from here on out is more of a prediction than an analysis.

[lyrics:

What was our home?

Paper, not stone

A lean-to, at most]

There’s a lot going on from the very start of this song. First, Logan’s perspective of the mindscape, the “family” of Thomas’ sides, and the system they’ve been using to keep Thomas going was clearly built on shaky foundation, paper-thin and ready to fall at a moment’s notice. Patton holding back negative emotions and then pushing Thomas to prioritize others over himself, Roman pushing himself too far and letting passion fuel Thomas’ every move in desperate attempts to look like the good guy, Virgil’s persistent presence alone despite his efforts to do better only to turn around and assume the worst of Thomas’ opinion of him, Janus’ meddling and his attempts to get Thomas to understand his issues without saying anything outright and only confusing him more and making him feel more guilty, and Remus being abrasive and outlandish to grab Thomas’ attention at every chance he has even if it comes at a detriment to Thomas’ health. It really was only a matter of time before things fell through.

Thomas struggling the way he has been was bound to happen because he wasn’t taking care of himself, he would only listen to some sides far more than others and wasn’t listening to his voice of reason much at all. This created an unfair and, at times, toxic environment for the sides to live and work in. All of them constantly trying to grab Thomas’ attention was what kept them from paying attention to Thomas and what he needed instead.

This became increasingly evident after Janus showed up in the narrative, and has been explicitly clear since Remus’ arrival, too. Thomas is not doing well mentally, and his sides are all stressed out which is making it worse. Logan can recognize all this from a detached, outside perspective despite also being just as affected. He’s been trying to keep things together for Thomas, working on his own to fulfill every role being left undone while the others are too upset to handle things as they typically could, but unfortunately, Logan’s finding it hard to care anymore.

[lyrics:

And when you pulled

Your half away

Gravity won

Like it always does

Did I weigh a ton?

Would it be easier

To just delete

Our pages and the plans we made?]

So, this song is sung in a very accusatory tone, poking at a specific person (mainly because it is originally a break-up song). The speaker is very upset and angry with the other party, and they are relaying their observations and asking why, asking if it was their fault this happened.

“And when you pulled your half away” implies that Logan was not the instigator of whatever preceded this incident, but as we saw with the last song, Logan holds some beliefs about Thomas and the other sides that are not fully true but are not exactly contested either. He could easily see their insistence in pushing him away, ignoring him, and refusing to listen even when Thomas is in desperate need of help as their act of pulling away from him, even if he is the one who has finally let go.

And while I don’t want to get too particular with my predictions, I do believe it’s very possible a last straw for Logan at this juncture may very well involve Thomas’ mental health and what he genuinely needs for survival.

If you’ll remember, Logan now believes he is only truly needed when it is absolutely necessary and there are no other options, or if he is specifically requested to help in some way, so if there is a situation that requires his attention, only for him to show up and be rejected yet again, he may just give up at that point.

And Logan thinks he is the only side genuinely looking out for Thomas, not just for his needs but his wants, as well. Thomas had specifically asked for his help in the Working Through Intrusive Thoughts episode, only for him to take on multiple roles to keep Thomas calm enough to handle himself. And Logan was the only one who bothered to ask Thomas what He wanted in the Can Plushies Improve Our Health? promo video, before even making his argument that everyone else assumed would be in opposition but turned out not to be.

Logan sees himself as that last remaining straw, really. If something is going to finally break him, it will be Thomas and the others. It will be their negligence, their refusal, their rejection of him that finally bends him too far, pushing him to a point where nothing can ever be the same again.

[lyrics:

So what will you do

With no me for you

I know what we said

What if I left

A thing or two?

We know that you don’t seem

To think about what you need

‘Til you reach to find that you’ve—

Erased me]

Like I said, Logan sees himself as the only one holding Thomas together. He believes that, without him, everything would fall apart and turn to chaos, and he’s probably right about most of that.

These lyrics are the speaker predicting what will occur, that the others won’t even notice his absence until they need him for something, and that’s when they’ll realize he’s already gone. This indicates a potential plan to leave, maybe not fully ducking out but certainly not sticking around either. Something that would keep Thomas’ logic functional for use while also allowing Logan a reprieve from him and the other sides, where he would only be used as one would a tool; tucked away in storage until the moment it is needed, then put right back afterward.

Leaving is the key here, though, and it’s something we’ve already seen result in detriment to Thomas back in Accepting Anxiety Pt 1 & 2, and yet, Logan has come to believe that this is a favorable option. Why? Is this to help him feel vindicated, to teach them a lesson?

It's not as though they want him around enough to stop him from leaving anyway.

You know, both the title and chorus of this song portray a very particular message, as “erase me” is not the speaker’s action, because he is not the one erasing himself. Rather, it is a suggestion to the other party so that they can finally be rid of the speaker. The lyrics are also taunting with these words, as if to say that this is what the other party has wanted all along anyway so they should just do it already.

Logan is asking, pleading, for Thomas to let him go because he obviously doesn’t even want him around. Logan doesn’t want to put up with this anymore, and as angry as he is at how he’s been treated, he knows he can’t just give up on Thomas, he’s literally a part of him. This has to be Thomas’ decision, Thomas’ action. Thomas has to be the one to push Logan away, the one to erase him.

Logan isn’t just angry at this point, he’s miserable. He knows he’s unwanted and barely needed, as he serves so little purpose to Thomas in his current career and doesn’t get along with any of the other sides despite everything he has tried to do to correct that. They’ve made it clear they don’t want him around, and they have already proven they can solve issues on their own without his help. He doesn’t need to be there, so why won’t Thomas just let him go?

[lyrics:

Erase me, and you’ll never have to face me

Erase me, Option-Command-Escape me

And if you feel nothing, guess what I wanna be?]

A fun little tidbit of knowledge here, but the Option-Command-Escape function on an Apple computer is its force-quit option, to completely cease a program from running. The program can’t do this itself; the user has to combine those three keys to make it happen. And when they do, the program will have closed and shut down completely. Often this is used when a program isn’t working the way it’s supposed to, when it fails to do its job. By doing this, you put it out of its misery.

Logan isn’t just asking to leave, to only benefit Thomas from afar or only as needed, he is essentially begging for death. He no longer wishes to function at all, because he believes he has no purpose to Thomas or the others. He is pleading for Thomas to let him go, find someone else who could do a better job as his Logic, someone who they’d actually enjoy having around.

For Logan to reach this low of a point, something truly devastating has to have happened to him. I cannot possibly predict what may truly set him off in this way, but given the most recent events in the series, he isn’t all that far from this point already. Likely, it will involve his worth and use to Thomas, and it won’t just be that he was forgotten or tossed aside like in SVS and SVS:R, but that Thomas or the others doing something that will clarify his uselessness out loud, where it can no longer be denied. There will be a divide that leaves him alone on the other end, finally and truly aware that he will never belong here.

Desperation that turns to anger to hide away its shame and misery, Logan won’t just duck out like Virgil had in Accepting Anxiety Pt 1. He would lash out, make sure Thomas and the others knew exactly why he wanted to leave, and begging that they be the ones to cut that connection for him. Maybe he will do something to push the issue, to give them a reason to do it. Perhaps the Orange side will emerge at this point, either to assist him in whatever he’s trying to do or to take over for him or something else entirely.

Regardless of what happens, Logan has now hit a very low point, and everyone knows it.

The next song is Art is Dead by Bo Burnham, which by itself can imply quite a few things.

As if simmering down from the initial blast of heat in the last song, there's still anger and annoyance here, but also a realization.

Something I want you to understand about this song before we relate it to Logan and why it’s included in this playlist is that the speaker is talking about a position, specifically an entertainer, and is saying that what they do is problematic. The speaker is complaining about another party, only to then turn around and include themself within that party. They are not just saying “entertainers are bad and here’s 50 reasons why.” They are saying “entertainers are attention-seekers, and so am I.”

So, when you then put this into perspective with Logan and the message he’s been trying to convey, he is pointing out flaws that he sees in what is likely Roman, as well as Thomas, but he’s also including himself as part of the problem. He recognizes that he, too, seeks attention – from Thomas, from the other sides, from the audience. And he doesn’t feel that it’s a good thing, he sees it as shameful because he knew why it was an issue, and yet he kept doing it anyway.

This seems like a moment of self-reflection, to see that he is not above the others at all, in fact he’s not that different from them when it comes down to what they all want, which is Thomas’ attention. Every single one of them is trying to be heard, but Thomas has only been listening to some of them. And most of them never feel that what they do get is enough, no matter how much it is.

This song shows that Logan knows he wants Thomas’ attention, but also that he doesn’t feel he’s done enough to deserve it. He believes he hasn’t even earned a right to complain like he has. He’s ashamed for how he’s acted because he thought he was supposed to be better than this. He doesn’t deserve the respect he thought he was owed; he doesn’t deserve anything.

With this song, he has somehow managed to dig even lower than his last low point, he’s just sorry for all the trouble he’s caused. Maybe his emotions got out of hand, maybe the Orange side caused problems but it was his fault because he let it happen – who knows? Even if he felt vindicated in the moment, it was clearly fleeting, and now, after the events of what happened, Logan only feels worse.

And then we get to Equation from The Little Prince next on the playlist, and we’re still in that zone of self-reflection, but it’s no longer about how Logan’s just like the others. No, now it’s all about his own flaws, his own failures, and everywhere that he’s fallen short.

Logan has now managed to dig even deeper than his lowest low, folks! It just gets worse and worse! Can you believe it?

[lyrics:

Will I ever know

How white is the snow

Does it matter after all?

Will I ever learn

How to fly like birds]

In this lowest point, Logan can only come up with questions that have been left unasked. Did he hurt Thomas? Did he ruin whatever he had with the other sides? Will he be forever trapped in this world Thomas created for them, with no way to truly explore the real world, to see its full wonder? Will he ever have a chance to do better, to be better, to hope again? Will he ever reach his true potential? Did he ever even have a true potential?

He had attempted and failed to find perfection for so long. He believed it was just a matter of trying, of wanting to meet Thomas’ expectations of him, that if he put his all into it, then he could see it through and be what exactly what Thomas wanted him to be, to be what everyone expected him to be, to be what Logan himself hoped to be.

Hours, days, weeks, years… In the end, it was never truly possible, and yet he had kept foolishly hoping for so long that he could be enough for Thomas. He had called the others’ ideas irrational, when, really, it was him all along with the impossible dreams.

[lyrics:

Are you good as gold?

Are you far from hope?

Are you well alone,

Dad?

Will I be a brave?

Will I be a bright?

Will I be a good grown-up?]

The future was never certain, but now Logan could never be sure of anything. What will become of him? What will become of Thomas? Is it even possible to recover from this, to start over, to get better?

We then move on to the next song, Sunrise from In The Heights. Logan is not doing well, but something he definitely needs more than anything right now is some sort of hope and motivation to keep trying and keep going.

Sunrise appears to be a song meant to involve either Roman or Patton communicating with Logan, but the purpose in its placement on this playlist seems to infer emotion as a motivation to learn, if you break the romantic intent away from the song itself, that is. Anything can motivate one to learn, even love, and Logan must be able to recognize this and understand that emotions and intelligence do not have to have a clear separation and can instead work in tandem. Learning isn’t just about curiosity or survival, it can have very emotional ties, as well.

For so long in the series, Logan has insisted he did not have emotions, even when this was clearly false. He believed that keeping himself removed from emotions would help him succeed in his job as Logic, that the others would be able to rely on him much more if they could trust his knowledge to be unbiased and unmotivated by unpredictable emotions. He assumed that divide between the two was necessary, and that if the two merged or collided, he would be unfit to do his job, that he would not be taken seriously.

However, doing this kept him from understanding and processing his own emotions as well as being unable to empathize with Thomas and the other sides. He only grew to misunderstand and mistrust emotions more and more as time went on, becoming startled and confused at his own outbursts, not aware of why he would feel a certain way or have a certain reaction to a situation, because he refused to let himself experience that emotion, to feel it. His lack of understanding directly resulted from his choice not to engage with emotions at all, despite their importance.

And finding that importance is where this song comes in, because the crucial point Logan had been missing all this time was that emotions can encourage one to learn, inspire one to research. Love can motivate someone to learn a new language, so they can communicate, as we hear in this song. But something like anger can motivate someone to research an important topic so they can fight for what they believe in with facts on their side. Sadness can inspire someone to look into advice and ways to help, not just for oneself but for others, too, employing empathy and logic side by side. Fear can motivate someone to find truth, to create familiarity with routines and schedules, to calm down cognitive distortions to maintain peace of mind.

Logic and emotions do not need to be separated; they can work together very well. In fact, most people use both in tandem every day.

For so long, Logan had set for himself a barrier he could not, would not cross. He knew there was nuance to the world but learned over time that he could not display his own. He resorted to that black-and-white thinking for the others' benefit and then to his own, finding that it was all-or-nothing when it came to Logic or Emotions. He believed one would merely taint the other, so they must be kept apart, even if that left only he alone on the other side, as the only logical side.

Despite the unfairness and discomfort, he didn’t want to challenge what he had come to think was right, what he’d been using as his basis for how he was supposed to act, which is why he refused to learn more about it, to never dare change the perception that he held.

He had given up, letting the world and its arbitrary rules dictate who he was and how he should be…but that was never meant to happen.

Once he realizes where his thoughts had steered him wrong, it will be like a whole new world of opportunities has suddenly opened up to him, giving him so much more to explore and learn. It will give him what he was missing this whole time. It will bridge the gaps he’d been unable to cross.

Logan does serve a purpose, and it's an incredibly important one, but it’s not something he was ever meant to do completely alone like he has been.

And that, of course, is where we get to the next song, One More Time with Feeling by Regina Spektor.

Firstly, this is a song about recovery, which is definitely where Logan would be by now in the story, processing what happened, and attempting to move forward and do better. As many know, recovery is not linear, and it’s certainly not perfect.

But given everything that has happened, it’s not all on Logan to improve himself on his own. Yes, he will need to allow himself to feel emotions so that he can understand them better, and he’ll need to learn ways to implement feelings alongside intelligence when working with the other sides to help Thomas, but the other sides need to do their part here, as well.

They have pushed him away, refused to listen to him for so long, often for petty reasons that blossomed into their eventual negligence. It won’t be easy to fix that level of miscommunication between Logan and the others. It’s not as simple as Logan finally speaking up, or the others promising to do better; it will require a lot of work from both ends before anyone can truly meet in the middle on this.

Logan had spent a lot of time before all this, trying to find ways to meet the others halfway, only to met with nothing in return. He gave up so much of himself, and now resents their choice to only take and never give anything back. Once the others finally reciprocate and show that they do genuinely care about him, only then will Logan have the chance to start this journey, to finally begin to get better.

The lyrics that we hear a few times in this song “this is why we fight” can have multiple connotations, such as an explanation of why the group miscommunicates and argues so much, why they don’t get along. But it can also mean that this is their motivation to keep trying, to fight for what they believe in.

I believe both of these meanings are present in Logan’s perspective of this song.

[lyrics:

Oh, everyone takes turns, now it’s yours to play the part

And they’re sitting all around you, holding copies of your chart

And the misery inside their eyes is synchronized and reflecting into yours]

Earlier on in the song, Logan believes that the others don’t understand his predicament, even if they want to help. They are still separate from him, even if they’ve all had their own issues to overcome, that doesn’t mean they actually comprehend what he’s going through, how it feels, what it means.

He experiences the world so differently from the rest of them. How could they ever possibly understand?

They are pushing him to do something he cannot do well – to open up, to reach out, to feel – and it’s only condescending and antagonistic how they keep insisting that he try again every time he fails.

“This is why we fight” during the chorus is his condemnation of their actions, that he doesn’t think the others can meet him at his level. He is not in a place yet where he can believe they’ll listen to what he’s actually saying, he can’t trust that they’ll bother to explain these unknown things to him in a way he can understand. And this is why they continue to fight, to argue, to not get along, because they aren’t properly communicating, they’re just making the same mistakes again and again.

[lyrics:

You thought by now you’d be so much better than you are

You thought by now they’d see that you had come so far

And the pride inside their eyes would synchronize into a love you’ve never known

So much more than you’ve been shown]

Logan thought he would be better, not just in regard to being the best he can be for Thomas, to succeed as his Logic, to know what to do, and to have the answers, but also in terms of his own recovery. It’s difficult, and some days are worse than others; he makes progress and then he doesn’t, and it’s shameful because he has such high expectations for himself.

He’s so used to aiming for perfection that when failure is consistent like this, it feels wrong to be told it’s actually okay, that it’s normal.

But he wants to prove that Thomas’ efforts and the efforts from the other sides have not gone to waste on him, that he is improving. And yet, he keeps failing anyway. He was supposed to be perfect; he was supposed to be reliable! But now look at him. Even with their help, he’s still messing things up.

He just wants to make them proud, he wants to earn that attention and respect that he couldn’t get before, even if he knows he still doesn’t deserve it. He wants to prove that maybe he can deserve it, though.

“This is why we fight” during the next chorus is his agreement with the others, that this is the motivation to keep trying, to keep going. Someday, he can be better. Someday, he will be respected and trusted and relied upon in the ways that he wants. Someday, they’ll be proud of him.

Until then, the fight is worth it.

This leads directly into In My Mind by Amanda Palmer as the next song, as we see Logan has held very high expectations for himself, which is why failure had hurt so much. But now that things have changed, he may be beginning to challenge these expectations, to expand upon them and understand that he has a chance for something different now.

[lyrics:

Because I will be the picture of discipline

Never minding what state I’m in

And I will be someone I admire]

Part of the issue really did come down to lyrics like “never minding what state I’m in” because Logan never put himself as a priority. This entire time, even at his lowest point, Logan was never the one who was important, not even to himself.

He was okay with this because this was never about him, it was about what Thomas needed or wanted. His willingness to bend and remake himself to benefit the others was surely a sentiment shared by all of them, that this was just what was needed to accomplish his job.

It’s not until Logan finally realizes that this is not the case, that he needs to put himself in some priority, too, that he’ll ever begin to improve and truly get better, able to be himself or enjoy anything he does again.

A big part of recovery is not setting your motivation on someone or something else – you need to get better because you want to be better. You need to believe you deserve to be happy, to get the things you want. Logan can say he’s doing this to benefit Thomas, to build back a relationship with the other sides, to earn back his position and demand respect as Logic, but that will only fail until his motivation is simply that it’s something he wants to do, for him. When attached to others and their expectations, those strings only come with guilt and can end up making his situation worse.

Logan has to do this for himself.

[lyrics:

And it’s funny how I imagined

That I would be that person now

But it does not seem to have happened

Maybe I’ve just forgotten how to see

That I’m not exactly the person that I thought I’d be]

It starts with recognition, the realization that he hasn’t met those expectations he held for himself. There’s still judgement and he still feels guilty about it, wondering how he could have let it get to this point. Maybe he just wasn’t paying attention properly, maybe he should have remembered that he’d already decided long ago about perfection being unattainable and how that was supposed to apply to him, too.

[lyrics:

Not like me now

I’m so busy with everything

That I don’t look at anything

But I’m sure I’ll look when I am older]

He regrets having missed out on the present, not having the chance to experience the wonder of the world that he so admires due to all his efforts towards achieving perfection and doing his best to handle everything by himself. He was so busy trying to do everything so precisely and getting the result he wanted that he hadn’t given himself the opportunity to enjoy anything in all that time.

He could do activities if they were productive, if they served a purpose, but he was a hypocrite, always aware and sharing the wonder of the universe and all that exists within it, amazed by the here and now, yet spending all his time locked in, looking away from the present while trying so hard to maintain it.

How long did he spend, convincing himself that just as soon as he achieves what he set out to do, then he would have time to do that? How long would he have kept going if something hadn’t finally snapped and broken everything, forcing him to confront this?

Would he have missed out? Would he have been somehow worse?

[lyrics:

And it’s funny how I imagined that I could be that person now

But that’s not what I want, but that’s what I wanted

And I’d be giving up somehow, how strange to see

That I don’t wanna be the person that I want to be]

Finally, a breakthrough. While not quite acceptance, Logan is finally starting to see the difference, that he wants things in a different way now than he did before.

He kept trying to strive for perfection in his recovery, but didn’t he recall how badly that had gone last time? He knew perfection wasn’t attainable, but he believed that was the expectation Thomas and the others had for him. He kept trying to get to it, no matter what it cost him, and that’s how he wound up here in the first place.

And now, after everything, things have changed. Thomas is listening, at least more than before. The others do care, and try to make sure he knows it, too. Logan had wanted to get better, to make them proud, to prove that he deserved what they were offering to him, but… that wasn’t even the point of it all.

All this time, he’d thought he still needed to be perfect, that that was what he wanted, but now that he’s finally had a chance to look inside himself, to experience wonder and curiosity again, he has realized that what he really wanted was to be accepted.

He didn’t want to have to change himself so the others would listen, he just wished they would actually want to listen to him, to like him for who he is, to let him be himself without requiring him to change, to only be the best, only what was needed, only Logic.

He wanted to be more than Logic; he wanted to be Logan.

With that, he finally realizes that doesn’t have to focus on perfection for Thomas’ sake and survival. He can focus more on himself more instead, on what he actually wants from the world, what he wants to do, and what he wants to try. He can be what he wants to be – more than Thomas’ Logic.

Having finally realized what it’s all for and being given the time to explore that, we get to the next song, Not Perfect by Tim Minchin.

This is a song that attempts to use facts and knowledge to explain feelings and thoughts, bringing context to situations that Logan had struggled in doing before this point. Finally beginning to understand what it is that’s going on inside, what these feelings are and why they’re there, to have the words he needs to adequately describe it to someone else, it all must be so relieving.

There’s still uncertainty, sure, but it’s a lot less stressful now, knowing there’s a way to talk to the others, to actually communicate what he means. He may still be startled, caught unawares, but he doesn’t have to shove it down and away anymore. He knows how to pause and reflect, let himself experience it, and he knows how to control his own behavior in reaction to it.

It’s far from perfect, and there’s still a lot he’ll need to learn, but he does so enjoy learning, doesn’t he?

[lyrics:

This is my earth and it’s fine

It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time

It’s not perfect, but it’s mine

It’s not perfect…]

Another thing to note about this song is the ownership behind most of the lyrics. “This is my earth” and “it’s not perfect, but it’s mine.” That sense of belonging is something that Logan has always wanted, and to be able to not only express that, finally, but to feel that it is real, that he is no longer just an outside observer but a part of the world as a whole, must be incredible.

He’s finally found his place, and though it was here all along, he no longer feels trapped in a cage or left collecting dust on a shelf. He has his place, he knows he’s a part of something greater, and that he’ll be appreciated for who he is.

This song has a perfect matching bookend, by the way; it’s three songs from the end of the playlist whereas Algoryhthm was three from the start. Both of these songs involve one’s differing view of the world, recognizing not only how it works but their place within it. One deals with that negatively, the other more positively.

In Algorhythm, Logan still had wonder for the expanse of the world but found himself trapped by the parameters being set. It didn’t matter that he knew things didn’t have to run in this way, he had no power to change it. He was given no other choice but to give up and go with the flow. He could only change himself to match it, knowing he was an outsider who didn’t belong but had to make do with his circumstances.

In Not Perfect, however, he still has that differing view of the world, but instead of being the outlier, he’s now able to find comfort in knowing he has a place within this world. There are so many wonders everywhere, all around, in the biggest and smallest of things. Yes, he sees the world differently, but so do others, and that’s amazing! He may feel alone at times, he may feel infinitesimal among the great expanse of the universe, but he is never truly alone. He knows he belongs here. He has those who understand him, and he doesn’t have to change for anyone. The world can accept him for who he is, always.

It's as though whoever curated this playlist knew precisely what they were doing. They cared deeply enough to ensure this story, Logan’s story, was told exactly the way it was meant to be, to describe the highs and lows, to explain the truth behind every note, and to inspire with hope anyone else who may be struggling, as well. This story, this playlist, says to us calmly and clearly that everything is going to be okay. It’s not perfect, but it’ll be okay.

In Human by Tank and the Bangas, we get to hear that acceptance, that love on full display.

Things have finally slowed down now, a song for a moment that comes at a more comfortable and soothing pace. Logan finally has the time to look around and see what he’s been missing while he’s been so busy with everything else.

This is another song that uses facts not only to describe and evoke emotions, but to inspire awe and wonder. Emotion-driven curiosity, channeling all the wonders of the world, of you, as your inspiration and guide to learn more and appreciate the here and now.

[lyrics:

Don’t you ever become complicit

With living life on a shelf]

Logan had gone so long pushing away parts of himself simply because they were flawed, not partaking in his interests because they didn’t fit the mold he so desperately wanted to fill. But now that he’s found his place, he can appreciate his chance to finally be more, to explore and share what he’s learned, knowing he’ll be heard.

Something we’ve seen from Logan since the very beginning is just how deep and wide his wonder goes. He loves the world, the universe, and everything found within it. He holds such fascination for the innumerable amount of living species in the world, for all the technology that’s been created and built, for every concept born of a mind. Logan loves the world so much, and he wishes so much for others to cherish what can be learned from it, as every moment, something new emerges. So many possibilities, so many chances to do more, see more, be more.

Logan was never meant to be someone who was pushed away, kept from the world that he loves so dearly. And now that he finally has the chance to be himself, to be accepted for who he is, we see that he immediately turns to what he loves most: wonder, and the opportunity to share it with others.

Knowledge can do so much for so many, but it’s best purpose is to be shared openly and freely, given to all who will take it. It’s not meant to be inaccessible, locked away, kept elite behind paywalls and tuition fees. It’s a part of what makes the world as amazing as it is, and Logan knows this and wants it to be shared.

[lyrics:

You have to continue to live

There are too many more interesting lessons]

Logan had made it his upmost priority in life to ensure Thomas’ survival, but this was something that eventually led to him burned out, begging for his own life to end instead. This journey, this long arc full of ups and downs, gave Logan the chance to see that his priorities were misaligned. He needed to take care of himself, he needed to give himself significance, because otherwise, he’d be constantly pouring from an empty cup.

He had to choose not only to live but to give himself the chance to do what humans do, to experience life, to enjoy it. Whatever time they have, they will make the most of it, because it can’t just be about survival.

Back in the song Algorhythm, Logan learned that humans do things very differently, that they don’t always act in ways that make sense, that sometimes they don’t prioritize survival despite its importance. In Fitter Happier, his interpretation of what it meant to be human was so disconnected from reality, misunderstanding what it was truly all for. But now, he has been given the chance to experience that broader spectrum; he’s no longer cut off from emotions and the ties they make to every moment in life.

There is so much more you can do with emotions as your guide, as the heartbeat to fuel your curiosity, your will to keep learning.

[lyrics:

And if you never knew

That that was enough to just be

You obviously don’t know

A thing]

This song has marked this moment out clearly for Logan, that he is finally an important and valued part of Thomas, that he belongs here and has a place here with the other sides, within the world, within the show. And it wasn’t perfection and changing himself to suit their needs that got him there. He was able to accept himself and give himself the freedom to explore and discover more, to find his own way to benefit Thomas, to be Logic, without strings, without repression, without solitude.

Being unabashedly himself was enough. He was enough for Thomas.

And then we get to the last song on the playlist, Time Adventure from Adventure Time.

A charming song to complete the set, to bring us back to how happy and smiling Logan had started out at the beginning of it all, though this time there’s a lot more depth to that smile. He knows more now; he’s learned and changed and improved in ways he never knew possible at the start of all this.

[lyrics:

Time is an illusion that helps things make sense

So we’re always living in the present tense

It seems unforgiving when a good thing ends

But you and I will always be back then

You and I will always be back then]

Existentialism with a positive twist, Logan can recognize the world for what it is, for how it works. But there is always that encouragement to remember where we all are, in the here and now.

Logan values the present the most, even if he’s someone we know who relies on the past for experience and the future for motivation. In comparison, Roman values the future and what it can hold, Patton values the past and what it can mean, and Virgil mixes between the past and the future to keep Thomas on a steady path. Logan is one of the only sides, other than perhaps Janus, who values the present moment above all else.

He wants Thomas to see what’s right in front of him instead of ignoring it for what he remembers of the past or what he hopes for the future. It’s okay to want those things, to appreciate them, but disregarding the present only results in missing out on the world around him, on what’s already available to him right now.

Logan sees Thomas’ potential and aspires for him to achieve it, but he can’t keep his mind on faraway goals without doing what he can in the present. Make a plan today that you can enact tomorrow. Brainstorm that story right now so you can write it later. Hug that friend today so you can remember it later when you miss them. There’s always a reason to act in the present, to live your life right here and now.

This ending song shows us that Logan has grown so much, and came to be happy at the end of the story. He’s come to understand himself, the others, Thomas, and the whole world so much better than ever before and is better for it. From this point on, things will surely be different, but now he has everything he needs to face anything that may come his way. He can rely on his knowledge, but also trust that he has his friends at his side, that he has their support. He knows Thomas values him and what he has to say, and that he can tell him when things are tough, when he needs him to listen.

He is heard. He is loved. And he loves in turn, all without having to do anything but be himself.

Something I absolutely adore about these last few songs on the playlist is that even though Logan is doing better now, after everything he’s gone through, he’s not showing this newfound satisfaction and happiness in the ways that you’d expect of most people. He’s doing it his own way, the way he likes doing it, and he’s thriving for it!

He prefers to work alone, having the time to think and contemplate strategies and plans without interruption. He likes reading in a quiet room, exploring fascinating new worlds and concepts all on his own. He likes sharing what he’s learned, and being relied upon for his knowledge, given the opportunity to explain ideas to others in the hopes that it will fascinate them and encourage them to learn more themselves.

He's not changing himself to do what others want of him. He’s not trying to fit some mold, to be okay by anyone else’s standards. He’s just…being Logan. And that’s everything I could ever want for him.

This playlist has involved such an amazing journey for Logan; it’s a story told through something humans will always love to share – music!

It showed us every crucial moment of Logan's arc, from what we've already seen in the show to what we know is bound to come next. It's clear that Logan has so much more to learn, especially from the other sides, who will be able to understand him once they finally try to communicate effectively and work together for Thomas and for themselves. The situation will improve, they will be happy, someday.

Someday, we’ll get to see the real conclusion to this character’s story, and until then, we can hold out hope for a good ending.

#logan sanders #sanders sides analysis #sanders sides #ts logan #logan angst #long post #like extremely long post #this is basically a very long winded way of saying that i hc logan as the biggest brooder to ever brood #so very broody and angsty #also yes i genuinely just write like this naturally and used to always be called a walking thesaurus #if you need clarification on anything i am always glad to extrapolate on my thoughts #especially because there was so much more i wanted to say here but i needed to reel it in haha #orbs thought bubbles #oh one last thing - i transcribed these lyrics myself in this post bc most websites were so incredibly wrong with these

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