#also i realized 'qualified to talk about it' is weird wording but brain is tired and i am blanking on a better word to represent what i mean

[belovedblabber]

I want to make a post about how smart Gideon is but am bad at making posts rn. But I’ll get to it because I feel like defending my darling girl. She’s smart! She’s so smart she’s just thrown into a situation in GtN where she is not given the tools she needs to understand everything going on around her!

Gideon so often gets done so dirty by a lot of slices of the fandom in terms of painting her as like, dumb muscle etc. when there is SO much more to her character. And I can’t help but think that a lot of the time there’s  an element of people being weird about butch women in terms of that treatment. And even more so and intersecting with that, I feel like racism, conscious or otherwise, undeniably plays a role in this treatment of her in many instances. It’s not my place to speak further on that (and I’m sure people who are much more qualified to talk about this have been talking about it and probably getting largely ignored a lot of the time), but it’s a thought that’s popped up for me and has been knocking around my head a lot lately 

[mlwritingprompts]

Submitted prompt: Marinette... creates an alien being?

edited a little

AU where before the 4th Season occurs, Marinette, mentally tired after having the identities of almost all the heroes exposed thanks to Miracle Queen, she tries to find some method to at least help her keep her ground against Hawkmoth.

And she ended up trying the Unification and hone her practice at using two miraculouses or more at once.

Since with no temporary holders for now, it will be very difficult.

And she does not trust Chat Noir to be responsible enough with two miraculouses.

Since she still remembers his stunt at New York, and how he didn't bother telling her about him going there, and just ran and gave up his Miraculous when she confronted him for his irresponsibility and him killing Aeon (If this show got rebooted into a better show, that name must be changed).

But back to her priorities, she was currently inside her room, having Unified Tikki and Trixx, trying to find out how to use this combo the best way possible, while also unleashing her imagination to go wild.

She wanted to see the limits of what the illusions can make as well, so why not indulging in making all sorts of illusionary and fantastic creatures that she dreamed about/drew in her childhood?

---

The result was a figure that was not a human, neither in characteristics nor in the form it had.

It wasn't montserous or scary either, but then again, Marinette had to deal with fighting superillains who can transform into whatever from possible with who knows what superpower they have, so the definition of "horrifying figure" might be a little twisted to her.

Marinette looked at the figure, marvelling in it's confusing and fascinating form.

Her brain also nearly stopped working because she was sure that the colors the illusion had were not supposed to exist, or to be seen by the human eye at all. It was like they were from a dream.

Sadly, her curiosity was stopped when the figure talked.

"                                 "

Okay, something weird is happening here, and she was very sure that language the illusion she created was not one she was familiar with. And for all she knows, it was a language no human can understand.

The figure then nearly broke her mind when it started moving across her room. It was like watching a live action optical illusion. Things that looked like they shouldn't move were now moving, things that had been in one place were now in another. Moving? Walking? Can she qualify what it is doing by her own words? The only word she could think to apply to it was optical illusion--and how fitting was that? It was an illusion, after all!

It was only after she watched the figure interact with her desk, when it was making sounds with it's steps (steps?) that she realized that this is not an ordinary illusion.

Somehow, this unidentified being she made as an illusion suddenly became an actual living being!

Okay, how did this happen and WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW!?

As she wracked her brain to find a good answer, the being went closer to her and simply stood still as if waiting for some signal from her.

She sighed at that and detransformed, as Tikki and Trixx looked at the being in confusion for a few seconds, before they closed to it and apparently started hugging it gently.

The being just gave another sound that seemed to indicate it was happy.

"You don't have to worry, Marinette, it won't harm you. Oh, also, sorry for this mess, I think I should have warned you that mixing Miraculouses might have unexpected results." Tikki gave an apology while still giving affectation to the creature.

So this whole thing could have been avoided if Tikki had told her earlier?

Marinette resisted the urge to facepalm, and hesitantly, she moved her hands to the creature, attempting to pat(?) it.

"Okay then, so you will be my friend from now on, I guess, or at least until we find out what to qualify you as, or if you decided by your own."

The entity seemed to nod in agreement as it accepted her hand.

"So, what do you want me to call you?"

And thus a new bond was born.

She was wondering how her classmates will react though to her new alien friend.

She would have to come up with some explanaton for meeting them...

---

(Hey Rjalker and everyone else, if you want to add/make a description to this alien being, go all out! I am sadly a little uncreative in making bizzare alien figures)

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (11/14)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

Levi could only be grateful that Petra had taken charge.

He was in no mood to do much but sit down, maybe get the gears of his brain moving when questions on coding or troubleshooting were directed to him. When the questions were on expected behavior of application, on known bugs, the motions in his mind were automatic, the responses that followed were second nature.

In that particular role, he was certain he’d be functional at the least.

There were questions about the overall testing process though that required more consideration, more planning and maybe some drawing. They weren’t formulaic. They required an overall different approach, a different part of the brain and Levi was only further convinced of that as he watched Petra draw over the floor plan with pencil.

He didn’t make sense of it at first and maybe all he needed was just a little push in the right logical direction.

Petra’s explanations were a godsend. “With the size of the gym, we can manage thirty tests at once…” She drew circles over the gym, evenly spaced. “We do it all at once, then we have them exit through here. ” She continued to trace the path from the front of the gymnasium to the back. “Then they answer the questionnaire over here, then one of the facilitators will submit it to the moderator’s table.”

The line that weaved efficiently through markers was a sign enough that she had put much thought into the overall planning process.

The moderator's tables was strategically positioned on one corner of the gym, angled in such a way to be inconspicuous.

Levi looked back for a second, noting, it's almost invisible presence next to the stage and the stored sports equipment.

And all I have to do is sit here, listen and answer questions right? Levi wished he could have asked it out loud. What kind of head engineer would he seem like if he did though? He went for the less desirable option of just keeping quiet, instead letting whatever questions in his brain out as one raised eyebrow.

“We want to make the most of our resources here so Eld, Oluo, Gunther, can facilitate. Make sure that none of the Love Alarms are on silent, that all the questionnaires are answered then mark on the box if it did ring. And Levi…” Petra turned to Levi. “I recommend you stay in the moderator’s table, encode the data, and stand by for any issues that may come up.”

Levi nodded. “That sounds like a plan.” He forced those last words out of his mouth while brushing off the almost guilt inducing relief at the confirmation of his own job and soon after that, the painful awareness of his own strange disconnect from the overall testing process

Petra though, had proven more qualified to take over. She had taken it upon herself since even the planning stages, coordinating with the logistics team, coordinating with the marketing team. Thus, she was in a better position anyway to brief people.

More importantly, she was admirably calm and professional about the whole process of presenting a plan in front of one of the biggest investors of the company. A very glaring reminder why she had been assigned to front office work since the start.

It wasn’t at all difficult to admit that Petra deserved to manage it.

So he let her take free rein. Levi leaned back on the wall, arms crossed as he watched the hand drawn lines darken under Petra’s delicate motions. He was tempted to doze off and a few times he did, especially when Petra took some time out to mention the specific responsibilities of facilitators.

When she mentioned the data encoding process, Levi forced himself to listen. Moments after that, when Petra shifted to other topics, he found himself darting his eyes across the small crowd, letting his eyes land on Zeke. The view of Zeke standing on one side of the table, looking deep in thought sent a rush of urgency through him, a very natural reaction to money, corporate obligation.

And something else.

Something unfamiliar and unwelcome. Sadness? Before Levi could even pin down the emotion, he was already following Zeke’s gaze.

Those blue eyes were tracing the plans on the table. Levi observed for a while, making quick guesses of what Zeke had been watching on the table, maybe to get a glimmer of what the man could have been thinking. Just behind the table though, on their side, there was something that had caught his attention more quickly than some overly detailed plans and some notes he had seen too many times already.

There were two hands clasped together and before he even noticed it himself , Levi was staring, tracing the thumbs with his eyes. Soon, he concluded, the grip of one of those hands was all too familiar.

Levi looked up, only to confirm what he already knew.

Hange could have known he was watching but Levi liked to guess that she didn’t. After all, she didn’t meet his gaze, instead, her head shot up, her eyes shifted towards Zeke.

It felt like an unspoken rejection.

A very out-of-place feeling of rejection.

Why would she look at me? Levi looked back down at the plan, letting the mood whiplash that followed rush through him. In those few moments, nothing much had changed. The markers were just a little clearer, the black ink a stark contrast to the white paper but he only found as he continued to follow it, that he couldn't make much sense of it anymore.

“Are you okay with this plan?” Petra asked.

Levi wasn’t looking so he couldn’t be too sure who she was talking to. Her voice was careful, gentle, and her tone was very respectful. He took the risk of making eye contact.

“Boss, are you okay with it?” She repeated. “If you have any feedback…”

Out of instinct, Levi nodded. “Yes, it looks like a great plan.” He could only thank whatever god, or whatever natural forces had made his voice naturally toneless and uninterested. That was the most he could have feigned anyway in such an unexpectedly tense situation.

Petra nodded and moved on from there. And whether or not the others had been looking at him, Levi couldn't tell too much. Their eyes fell back on the table in front of them, Petra continued to prattle on about logistics and upkeep.

Soon, Levi decided, he could probably just learn along the way. All he had to do was keep watch on the moderator’s table and encode data anyway.

Right? “I’ll go to the toilet first,” Levi whispered from behind Petra.

Petra saw him off with a subtle eyebrow raise.

With that bout of freedom, Levi broke away from the small crowd and made his way out of the gym. There probably was a toilet inside the gym but he didn’t bother to search for it. The point of the toilet break was the break more than the actual toilet.

Over the long drawn orientation, Levi realized he was tired, unmotivated and maybe a little desolate. Everything had the potential to tick him off and he just needed some time to breathe.

Maybe a long walk could help. Maybe pretending Hange didn’t exist for just a few minutes would help.

His emotions were a mush and he found himself in some strange in-between state as he strolled aimlessly through the campus. He was looking for a way to get lost while at the same time, he was looking for the most efficient way to make it to some empty toilet.

After a good number of unproductive minutes and a not-too-comforting toilet break had passed, Levi conceded. He might really have to do a quick search to even find his way back in such a big campus. After opening the maps app and confirming location, Levi made one last check on one certain application to satisfy his curiosity.

Purple. His emotional alarm confirmed. He was going to have to be productive despite being very purple.

Levi pocketed his phone and made the familiar trek back to the gym.

**

The gym exploded into a cacophony of rings from that familiar alarm and very annoying echoes that never seemed to end, both sounds Levi was all too tired of hearing already.

It didn't help at all that booting up his laptop and opening the sheet had been also an excruciatingly slow.

When he organized the stack of questionnaires into a pile next to his desk, he was just a little disconcerted. Disconcerted enough that it took him some time to notice that someone had settled onto the seat next to him.

Recognition came quickly, the first question came out instinctively. “Why are you here?” They were still close enough at least that Hange seemed to have gotten his question even with the little effort he put into speaking over background noises.

The flash of surprise in her eyes, beautifully framed as Hange furrowed her brows was very telling of Levi’s tone. Was he too abrasive? Well, they had a pretty good send off yesterday. Right? He eventually concluded, he probably could have been a little nicer.

Hange was a distraction. When Hange was next to him on the moderator’s table, it felt like a carrot was being dangled in front of him. When it was him and her, in front of hundreds or other people, some of them people who could potentially ask about Hange, he couldn't even act naturally around Hange.

Levi could only entertain the possibility that it would have been easier if she wasn't present.

It didn’t help at all that Zeke was just a few feet behind Hange. Sometimes, the blonde was rattling on about possible investment plans with some very irritating enthusiasm. Sometimes, he was talking to some other school official and sometimes he was on the phone with god-knows who. And every now and then--- No, not every now and then--- In very regular intervals, Levi would notice the way Zeke would stare at the both of them for just a few seconds.

Not infrequently enough for Levi to blame his own paranoia, yet too often for Levi to have noticed some pattern.

Hange though, hadn’t been very helpful. She started to type on her laptop much louder. “I volunteered to help encode data. Petra said during the briefing that you wouldn't be able to do it alone. Weren't you listening?"

Maybe he hadn't been listening. That didn't mean he had to admit it. “Only one person needs to do it,” Levi responded.

“We’re looking at hundreds or even thousands of data points.”

“I’ve dealt with worse.”

Hange turned to him, her eyes observing. “And you seem tired.”

“Do I?” That last syllable came out as a croak. Hange’s own conjecture had left Levi thinking, then he was suddenly more aware of his own vulnerability.

When she stared at him for a while longer, her lips curling up into a soft smile, Levi had to acknowledge her ability to just see through him. He cleared his throat, swallowing that crack in his voice from a second ago.

“How are you feeling?” Hange asked. She continued to type, sometimes she shifted to clicking with the mouse, maybe preparing a spreadsheet.

The question had come out of nowhere and in the air between them, it seemed almost out of place. What could he expect though after their last encounter?

He silently stumbled upon the answer. Nothing. There was no well-backed formula to navigate such complex circumstances.

Levi didn’t answer immediately, allowing himself a few minutes to at least come up with something fair. He leaned back on the metal chair and stared up at the ceiling. He dug into his pants, searching for anything to hold onto, dryer lint, a few odds and ends to distract himself with. He was a naturally fastidious person and consequently, digging into pockets had left him empty handed. With no choice but to answer, He opened his mouth slowly, before he could even come up with something. “Purple,” he eventually whispered.

It was still loud enough for Hange to hear. She responded soon afterwards. “I’m feeling green, very green.”

Happy sad? Or sad happy? Those questions never left his mouth. Maybe he was a little terrified to know the answer. Maybe he just didn’t trust himself to function if by some chance she said something he didn’t want to hear.

Besides, this was a professional relationship. They were colleagues, business partners.

And once again, Levi reminded himself. Why should she think of him as anything more than that?

“You’re not joining testing?” Levi asked.

They had been silent for a while, long enough for Levi to get tired of staring at Zeke and Erwin who had been engaged in some other conversation on a table towards the corner of the gym, some area concealed by some makeshift stage. From the moderators table situated right beside the stage. Levi couldn’t make out conversations but he could make out some of the gestures and mannerisms

There was another man, someone Levi didn’t recognize. A School Official?

It didn’t seem necessary for him to think too much of it. After all, it had seemed like a more casual conversation. Zeke though, always seemed to be having a relaxed conversation while Erwin never looked like he was having one.

“I left my phone...” It had felt like ages before Hange replied.

He didn’t even notice he had been waiting for her reply until he turned back, and returned her gaze. Until he found himself unable to respond, possibly out of shock.

She continued. “Back in the house…” Her words came slowly. Maybe she had been too engrossed in something else in her laptop to tell.

We have test devices. The suggestion seemed almost automatic

Levi’s mouth was already halfway open when she interrupted. “I’d personally rather I didn’t test the Love Alarm today. He might insist we test it but I thought it worth a shot to at least not have my phone with me, to make it less convenient.” She shrugged then gave him a knowing look.

You know why… Those had been the silent words between them. And there could have been a silent conversation after that, or a silent moment of comprehension. Something only two people whose love alarms rang under the mercy of the most complex of circumstances could have ever understood.

In the silence that followed, Levi kept himself busy encoding some of the data that had already come in. He was grateful there were still parts of the spreadsheet that needed fixing. He managed to prolong his busy-ness and as they continued, he was committed to keeping both of them occupied.

The answered questionnaires came more quickly, in thicker stacks and Levi only got enough to seem productive, leaving Hange with a slightly bigger stack. The unsynchronized clacks of the keyboards were enough to fill the air of the room, for a good long hour.

He tried to take control in his own way, maybe find rhythm with Hange's typing.

A part of him was desperate to fill the air between them with some casual conversation but when he opened his mouth, nothing much else came out. They were doing what they were supposed to do but Levi felt like a fish out of water.

With time and the right prodding, his thoughts flew back to Hange’s words just yesterday. Maybe she had been right. They were at the mercy of circumstances.

An hour or so could have passed before Zeke sauntered back into their table with Erwin trailing behind. Zeke slammed both hands on the table in some strange greeting. "Did you have our chauffeur pick your phone up?"

Hange looked up at Zeke, her expression unreadable. "No, I didn’t.”

Zeke had the face of a wounded monkey. “So you really don’t plan on joining the testing?”

Hange shrugged. “I’m fine just helping out here. I’ve done enough testing with the app already.”

“I want to test it with you,” Zeke said.

Hange returned Zeke’s look with her own consoling one. “We could always try it together another time?” She suggested.

Zeke didn’t seem satisfied. “I’ll call someone to bring it over.” He pulled out his phone.

Hange put her hands up in defense. “No need, besides, there might be something wrong with my phone. I plan on having it checked.”

“You could use one of the test devices here?” Erwin suggested.

A very unwelcome suggestion. Levi was tempted to look at Erwin, shooting daggers with his stare. Instead he bent over, just a little hiding his face behind the laptop screen.

“No no, don’t trouble yourself, other people might need it more,” Hange said.

"We could always buy a new phone?" Zeke seemed pretty certain about his suggestion. He had pulled out his phone as he spoke.

If Levi had been drinking then, he could have spit it out. Instead he had to settle for choking on his own saliva. What?

Erwin raised both eyebrows in shock. "Mr. Jaeger, do you mean buying a new phone for testing? We have a few test devices here. You shouldn't put yourself thought the trou--"

Zeke shook his head. "Believe me it's no trouble." He started to type. "Leave the test devices for people who actually need them. Buying a phone is no problem for me.”

Hange had opened her mouth to protest. Something could have caught at her throat and she looked back down at her laptop. She started to type faster, much faster than a while ago. The quick and off rhythm clack of the keyboard mixed with Zeke’s very firm orders at whoever poor sap was on the phone.

“Any particular model you’d like?” Zeke asked.

Hange shook her head. “You know my stand on this Zeke.”

“It’s a quick test,” Zeke justified. Seeming unbothered, he turned to Levi. “What type of model does the love alarm work best in?”

Erwin had been looking at him expectantly then and Levi found himself dropping a typical model, muttering it under his breath.

It hadn’t done much anyway. Zeke acted as if he hadn't been listening to Levi in the first place. Maybe he hadn't, his focus completely on whoever he was talking to on the phone. “Just buy the best model available and get it down here stat... Money won’t be a problem.”

Still, it was a total waste of money. Levi snuck a glare at Zeke from just above his laptop and a part of him was hoping he had gotten the message.

It was just like Erwin to find a diplomatic way to make his own thoughts known. “You really didn’t have to go through the trouble. We have some working phones which Hange could have borrowed.”

Zeke put one finger up as if to silence Erwin. “I think it’s a fair price for convenience. Besides, if your phone is broken, better to replace it right?" He turned to Hange with those last words.

To Levi, it seemed almost like a challenge.

A challenge to what? There were too many things running through his brain, useless things like estimations of phone prices and a price that would have meant installments to most people, so casually dropped by someone as insufferable as Zeke Jaeger.

He didn't trust himself to speak. So he encoded the last few papers in front of him onto their electronic sheet, slowly yet very carefully, willing his eyes to run through each number multiple times.

His brain was barely moving though.

When the new stack of papers came, care of Eld, Levi was an odd mix between grateful and exasperated.

When Zeke invited Hange out for lunch, he was an odd mix between relieved and just slightly offended.

By what? Of course Zeke wouldn't invite him.

Still, maybe it hurt just a little bit to have the seat next to him empty.

***

Levi settled for a lunch of a sandwich and whatever drink he got his hands on first. Nutrition facts and long term consequences to his overall health could wait another few decades.

Just like with toilet breaks, Levi went for the farther convenience store for no specific reason. Maybe to see a little more green or to allow himself some brain space to think and walk.

And maybe to run into Hange and Zeke again. He found himself thinking back to Hange at the hotel restaurant. It had happened only last Friday but somehow, it had felt like ages ago.

He shifted his gaze, looking subtly through cafe windows, searching for a mop of brown hair or maybe the well kept golden blonde. He came up with nothing.

With time, he gave up, and turned back to the school, passing through one of the nearby entrances, quietly looking through the map on his phone for assurance that he was still on the right path back.

The uniforms were the first sign he was on the right path. The students that had strolled purposefully through the characteristic red brick roads of the school were another sign.

All he had to do was follow the signs to make it back to the gym.

And as he walked on, he noticed other signs, like people with their phones held up, as if looking for an app, maybe? He couldn't be too sure. That was until he noticed two people hunched over, screaming obscenities about love, relationships and some ridiculous app, to surmise he must be nearby.

"Why the hell did it ring?"

"Relax Connie, it's just an app."

"Just in case you forgot, you're in a relationship. Niccolo could kill me for this."

Levi looked back fast enough to catch the nonchalant shrug of the brunette.

"He won't," the brunette continued. "Besides, who cares about what an app says. I already committed to a relationship with him ----”

“I care!”

“Okay then,” She looked dumbfounded or maybe that had been her natural face. She paused for a second, looking upward, seeming deep in thought before she spoke up again. “Why are you so worked up over this?”

There was a bench nearby and for a good few seconds, Levi was eyeing it, especially while the two young students continued to chatter on about his application. The conversation got a little more interesting and it had been all the easier to decide to take a moment to settle on the bench and scroll through his own phone.

“Sasha, tell me… What did you put in the questionnaire.” Connie asked, only confirming the girl’s name for Levi.

“Isn’t that confidential?” Sasha challenged.

Technically it was confidential. Levi had to note and the two were talking in such a recklessly loud manner and even Levi a good few feet away was within earshot. Just to seem less like a peeping Tom, he put both earbuds on.

“I said I trusted you, that I’m happy with you. I think about you a lot. Maybe that’s why it rang for me.”

Levi noticed it from his peripherals, the way the girl named Sasha tensed up and froze on the spot. He found himself cheering silently for the young boy.

Connie, that’s his name right?

“Connie, we’ve been best friends for years… Of course I’d feel the same way about you.”

“So… If the alarm rang for both of us…” Connie never finished his sentence. Or maybe he did, his voice had slowly deadened into murmurs and in response.

Sasha’s jaw dropped, reminiscent of only Hange’s face just yesterday when they separated by the boarding gate.

In shock? In confusion? There were only too many reasons for that expression but Levi was feeling conservative with his guesses. They were a bunch of teenagers, what did they know about love and relationships?

Sasha’s expression softened into a kind smile. “We’ve been best friends for years...even if it is true…”

Their voices had softened to a whisper as the conversation only got more and more serious and Levi was starting not to make out most of what they were saying. He did notice though how she mentioned something about a man named Niccolo, something about a choice to date someone.

And he concluded, maybe it was for the better that he left the two alone to discuss their problems.

He silently scolded himself for even getting invested in that conversation in the first place.

***

Whatever results Connie and Sasha gave were completely anonymous and as Levi scrolled through the datasets on the sheet, he felt almost guilty for prying so deeply into some stranger's personal business. Embarrassingly, it had reached a point where he had been invested enough to guess which of the results were theirs based on the conversation a while ago.

After half an hour of fruitless searching, he let the guilt take over and he stopped himself. Instead, he turned back to the stack of papers that needed encoding.

Maybe one of the papers is there. Levi guessed then he mentally slapped himself for that bout of desperation.

“You should put a minimum age on this Love Alarm app.”

Levi looked up to see Hange had pulled back the seat and settled down next to him. “Why?” he asked. The question seemed more for posterity. Levi was starting to guess the answer himself.

“On the way back from lunch, we ran into a few students fighting.” She chuckled, her voice was light, her tone almost mischievous. “It looks like the love alarm might have started some drama.”

Levi wondered how she could even manage such a conversation when there were more pressing matters on hand. Still, he decided to engage. “I ran into two kids outside too. They were talking about their results with the love alarm.”

Hange raised one eyebrow in interest. “Oh?”

“And one of them’s in a relationship already.” Soon after those words leaked out, Levi wondered if he should have even admitted it. They seemed too painfully familiar.

“So, it just proves, even in a committed relationship, it could ring. Right?” Hange asked.

“Of course it would. The love alarm wouldn’t be able to tell if you’re in a relationship right?” Levi responded. “All the app measures is…” Love. He was careful that second time around. “Compatibility. Unable to multitask at that moment, he dropped his hand right next to the laptop. He looked to Hange, only to notice she hadn’t even started on the second stack yet.

Her eyes were on him and she was still looking very much invested in the conversation. “And I told you, I think your app is working fine.”

Levi continued. “But they’re high school students.”

“Are you saying high school students aren’t capable of love?”

Levi almost choked on his own saliva. “What? No, I never said that.” He took a deep breath. “But there are nuances when considering compatibilities right, something people wouldn’t figure out for themselves early in life.”

“Your application is able to detect those nuances even if people aren’t aware of it themselves then. Going back to those two kids you ran into, let’s assume the love alarm was correct and those two really were compatible with each other. Explain the situation Levi.”

Levi had to pick at his brain. He had to do and undo knots from inside him so maybe it had taken him a bit longer to get those words out. He stared in front of him, trying to find organization in the way Petra had guided the new set of volunteers in.

Luckily, Hange had been patient.

He didn’t spend too much time wondering how long he had made her wait, he looked up at her, and leaned his cheek further into the palm of his hand. He spoke up. “One of them is in a relationship already. Her name is Sasha. The other one—I think his name is Connie— is a childhood friend.”

“Oh, childhood friends to lovers huh?” Hange gestured playfully for him to continue speaking.

Levi had momentum in the conversation, so he willed himself to continue. “And it rang for both of them, and they were talking about it. I couldn’t tell too much from the conversation but---”

“Do you think Sasha would leave her boyfriend just because the love alarm rang?” Hange could have been a mind reader and it was just like her to go straight to the point. Her voice was a little louder. At that point, she leaned back on her chair, and stared straight ahead. Her expression was painfully unreadable.

That had shortened Levi’s tirade by minutes, maybe seconds. That unexpected query left Levi frozen for a while.

“Should a love alarm ringing be worth two people reconsidering long term relationships?” Hange pressed.

Even if he didn’t have an answer for himself. Levi bit his lip and stared straight ahead. It was an easy enough question to answer, a very logical one. All he had to do was look back at whatever snippets he got of the conversation back in the schoolyard to grasp for some right answer.

Even if it is true, we made our choices. And a high school student admitting that of all things, should have been a glaring sign that maybe Levi had been a little immature, having been bothered by the prospect of ‘love being a choice’ for so long.

No, a love alarm shouldn’t be worth it. Levi had opened his mouth, ready to answer it with a simple and most objectively correct answer.

Even if the love alarm was correct, we made our choices. He had accepted it already weeks back, a sad kind of happiness.

Acceptance. But why was a part of him still resisting? He was looking for something. He looked back at Hange who sat, unmoving, he continued to search for it, studying whatever features his eyes would land on, from her cold eyes right until her pursed lips.

Acceptance. Levi repeated to himself. That had been enough to quell the drive to search within him

“Is a loving alarm ringing, really worth it?” Hange asked again. She had more to say, it was very much apparent in her cold professional demeanor. He could have sworn he saw something else, something that made him reflect on whether that question had been rhetorical or whether Hange really expected him to answer.

Worth throwing our lives away? Levi finished the sentence for her in his head and he almost regretted it. His heart ached, he found himself almost unable to breathe. It had been a miracle he managed to continue speaking.

Acceptance. He had accepted it a long time ago already. Maybe that had been the reason he had still managed to look her in the eye then. Levi took a deep breath. “It isn’t,” he admitted.

Hange dropped her shoulders and leaned back on the chair. She closed her eyes and let out an exhale.

A natural response to the thick tension between them. Still, something inside him was desperate for an inkling of her truth and he continued to search.

Hange looked back at him. In those few seconds, she had managed to compose herself and Levi was just having a much harder time reading her.

She spoke up again. “Are you okay?”

“No I’m not,” Levi admitted.

“Is there anything else you wanna talk about?” Hange was once again cold and professional.

Brushing away disappointment, Levi shook his head. “No. Let’s go back to work.” It looked like that 'casual' conversation had taken some turn for the worse and he was just a little tired from that.

***

After an hour or so, Levi had attempted again to loosen whatever tension blanketed both of them with another light conversation topic.

The few times he tried, he was interrupted. Events were only happening one after the other and he was starting to realize how difficult it was to keep a calm and disconnected conversation. Every other few minutes, they were coming at him with new reports, new stacks of paper, new developments.

“This is the last time we’re testing on high school students,” Levi muttered. He was almost relieved their last conversation had ended on an abrupt note. Maybe that wasn’t a conversation they should have been reaching in such a hectic situation.

“I’ll tell Zeke about this,” Hange responded calmly.

A huge chunk of Levi’s attention was on the scene in front of him just a few rows back There were, two girls, a small blonde and a dark lanky brunette a few inches taller, right next to them was a burly blond man. The blond man seemed almost devastated, the brunette seemed defensive and it looked like the small blond girl was trying to pacify both of them with a rattled Oluo in tow.

“How did you even convince a bunch of high school students to volunteer to test the app?” Levi asked half heartedly. That seemed like a casual conversation starter. He kept a good amount of his focus to his side, just in case Hange spoke up, he wouldn’t miss it.

Hange put one finger to her chin. "Zeke was pretty smart about it…” He pointed out something. "Teenagers are very simple minded yet very cynical at the same time. Just put the right bribe in front of them, concert tickets, front row tickets to a game in exchange for testing some product which seemingly tests their status with love? Most teenagers took the bait. " She grinned and spoke up again, her tone a little higher. “What can a simple phone app say about something as complex as love? Besides, the love alarm is a pretty harmless app right?”

She didn't really believe that right?

I mean, technically it is. Theoretically, all it did was measure compatibility. Most people should have chalked it up to something similar to horoscopes, superstitions or fortune telling. That information was on a nice-to-know basis but not necessarily life changing.

Levi only had to look ahead again to be reminded, maybe the Love Alarm just had that effect on people. Maybe users were underestimating their own ability to be unaffected by some reading on an application. The success of the Love Alarm was enough of an answer. The proliferation of app usage in the dating sphere was another hint. And the love alarm and the emotions alarm having some reign over Levi’s moods lately should have been another huge, visceral hint.

Levi set aside that last hint as soon as he articulated it in his mind. Instead, he turned his thoughts to an exhausted Oluo who was making his way to the table.

"This is a good lesson boss. We really should put a minimum age restriction on this," Oluo said as he sat back down on the chair next to Levi, seeming completely spent.

"You're not the first one to tell me that," Levi responded.

"You see that couple there? That small girl and that brown haired girl are in a relationship already. And that big guy, he has a thing for the small girl," Oluo explained. It looked like he had tried to keep a facade of disinterest, a shoddy one.

Levi saw easily through it. "I can see that." He kept his own tone seemingly unaffected. He wondered if it showed.

Either way, Oluo seemed too invested in whatever love stories he was speculating. "And the love alarm just made things slightly… complicated."

Levi narrowed his eyes, following the trio that only a while ago had been fighting.

He focused then on the brunette and the blonde, the subtle way they held hands, the wide eyed, seemingly permanent smile on the small blonde’s face. The brunette on the other hand seemed to wear a permanent scowl on her face. That was, unless she was staring at the smaller girl. He then looked down at the two hands, held close to each other.

He shook his head when he realized he had been staring at it for a little too long. He looked back at the burly blonde man, who stepped back, seeming disappointed, almost embarrassed.

"It helps articulate emotions. That’s the point of the Love Alarm because some people don’t even know they’re feeling something until someone—or something points it out right?" He turned almost instinctively back to Hange, only to feel a slight drop in his stomach.

Hange didn’t look back at him, seeming focused on whatever was in front of her. Her concentration made it difficult to see what had caught her eye.

Oluo continued. "There are two blondes over there. I think their names were Aaron… Arnie…? Anyway they have almost similar names." He subtly pointed towards another pair.

Still, it had been easy for Levi to trace the view to the two blondes next to each other, seeming nervous as they made their way through the crowd then to the table with the questionnaires. There was an awkward air about them, but he couldn’t help but notice the subtle smile plastered on both of their faces.

It only pushed Levi to look more closely at the papers as they were submitted to Petra. Petra had conveniently piled them on top of the stack and Levi followed it all the way until the mods table.

He looked over the answers.

All Yes boxes were ticked. Did they trust each other? Yes. Did they think about each other a lot? Yes. Levi double checked the question on the remarks filled up by a facilitator.

Did the love alarm ring? The ‘Yes’ box was ticked on both papers

"It looks like the Love Alarm can tie up romantic loose ends," Hange commented.

Levi only noticed when she had spoken up that she had craned her neck to read the questionnaire next to him. It looked like she had been listening the whole time. She gestured towards the exit of the gym where the two blondes seemed to be deep in conversation. From the distance, he noticed the red tint in both of their cheeks.

Then one raised their hand slightly, the other clutched it. Then Levi conceded, there was some truth to Hange’s comment. But he was tempted to challenge it. "Maybe because they mustered the courage to confess," Levi suggested as he encoded the numbers onto the spreadsheet. “They allowed themselves to feel whatever they were actually feeling.”

"Well, circumstances were in their favor right? I'm sure there are a lot more cases where just admitting would be slightly more complicated than that, like those two kids you mentioned a while ago."

Levi turned towards Hange, keeping his face as serious as possible. "I wanna know, why would admitting it be hard?"

Hange hummed "Rejection maybe?" Her face seemed innocent, mockingly innocent.

A little ticked, Levi was uncharacteristically in the mood for a little back and forth. "You've been talking about reading and acting on circumstances so many times this past weekend, I'm sure you know it's not always about rejection."

For the first time in a while, Levi was raring to talk. From the messy facade of disconnect, Hange’s expression shifted to that of hesitance, nervousness. For a good few moments, she was frozen on her seat. And he started to realize why he had been so strangely talkative since a while ago.

He was in a strange state of mind, he desperately wanted answers to questions he couldn’t yet articulate. Was he just not satisfied? Or was Hange just deliberately not giving them?

"Do you think it's embarrassing to feel something for someone?" Levi broke the silence with one question he managed to forage from the back of his mind.

Hange answered with a quick sentence. “No, it’s not.”

"Of course it's not, but when you think about your situation and you realize you’re not supposed to be feeling a certain way... Should you be ashamed about feeling that way?" He pressed.

"We can't assume how we feel right? Before we even delve into that, we have to consider whether or not we really feel that emotion right?"

"But when we’re sure we already feel it,” Levi clarified.

"But if you allow your emotions to play a part, all you do is muddle your own ability to analyze. I think everyone should analyze the situation first with a very cal—"

"I think that's pride," Levi said firmly. "I think pride is refusing to let yourself feel it in the first place."

Hänge hummed. "Well, then assuming that circumstances are so simple that you can just feel whatever you want… that's prejudice right? You only get past initial prejudice when you learn to analyze what's beyond the situation. The more you know, the more you understand, the freer you are."

"But you're only free if you let yourself feel, then after that, you let yourself understand," Levi said. So maybe just letting go, enough to let yourself feel, maybe that's freedom?"

Hange shook her head. "Thinking while letting your emotions run free? It's not that easy. You’re just gonna end up a slave to your emotions."

“Well, would I rather be a slave to my cold calculating brain or to my emotions? We can’t control emotions. We can’t control circumstances either. So what now?” Levi said, looking pointedly at Hange. He only realized then when the hoarseness of his throat caught up to him, that somewhere along the way he had raised his voice.

Hange’s eyes were wide and when she spoke up again, her voice was notably softer. It looked like she had raised her voice as well. “I assess the situation, and then I decide what to feel, what to do.”

Levi sighed. "Hange, I have another theory,” he started. “What if freedom is acting logically and objectively despite emotions?" He only noticed it soon after, he had adopted Hange’s mannerisms with those last few sentences.

Hange seemed unsurprised. She shook her head. “You can take control of your emotions more easily than your circumstances.”

"I don’t agree with that. No one can control how they feel. So I don’t think anyone should be ashamed of how they feel? Why do people have to stop themselves from feeling?" Levi asked. "Connie, that guy I ran into, the love alarm rang... They're best friends...there's acceptance there… isn't what's important is what we do with the feelings? I understand the circumstan—"

"Do you really understand it Levi?" Hange asked. She gestured with her face towards what was in front of them. The voices, the background noise became somewhat clearer as he watched the scuffle in front of him.

Levi huffed. “I understand that the Love Alarm isn’t enough reason for anyone to switch up their relationships…”

Sasha’s words echoed in his head. We’ve been best friends for years...even if it is true…

He continued. “But if the love alarm was correct, if the love were true, real… shouldn’t the users just accept these feelings for what they are?” Levi only noticed it a second later, when his eyes had locked on Hange that he had mimicked her position, leaning back on the chair. “Is it really so wrong to just accept sometimes, that love is an emotion and sometimes we just can’t control how we feel right? Maybe there is still a lot we can learn from an unrequited love.”

Hange furrowed her eyebrows. “We?”

“‘We’ as in every single person, who ever had to deal with an unrequited love.”

Hange didn't respond to that, she made some other excuse about how they had to work on the next set of results conveniently stacked in front of them.

Another attempt at some light conversation had left Levi winded. The words on the paper then on the screen were starting to blur amongst one another. His head was starting to throb. He found himself lowering the screen of his laptop just a bit and staring straight ahead, just for a break from the soft white glare.

He snuck a glance at Hange, who seemed just a little exhausted as well, her shoulders dropped, her wrists falling more recklessly onto the table as she typed.

The more people that filed in through the entrance, the more Levi realized it was a busy day. They shouldn't have been spending too much time discussing the relationships of people they would never see again. They shouldn’t have spent too much time discussing some useless philosophy on love when there were more pressing things to deal with.

Levi couldn't help but wonder. How the hell did all of their light conversation topics end up so heavy?

Or maybe he was the only one feeling that way. It looked like Hange had recovered first from that casual conversation turned deep. She looked up in one swift movement and spoke up, breaking the ringing silence between them. "That's Eren, Zeke's brother," she subtly pointed her thumb towards the side and Levi had to crane his neck to see behind her.

It wasn't too hard to pick him up. Eren was a tall teenager and he was followed by a young girl with chin length hair and an almost demanding presence despite being a little shorter.

"And that's Mikasa, his best friend,” Hange added.

Levi followed Eren with his eyes to see that he had gone to that corner just to talk to Zeke. Whatever they were talking about, he couldn't tell much from his end.

He looked to Hange for answers.

There was a flash of excitement in her eyes and she looked very much like she was holding in some interesting story, torn between speaking and watching the developments closely.

"You wanna tell me about them?" Levi asked when the anticipation finally became unbearable.

Hange seemed particularly focused as she watched Zeke and Eren talk. Levi even guessed that she may have heard that hushed conversation between them.

"He and Mikasa have been best friends for years… You know it's funny, her last name is Ackerman too. Are you related?" She commented

Levi never had enough bougie connections to have any cousins in swanky private schools so he brushed that question away. "Okay, what about them?"

Hange tapped one hand on the space between them on the table then pointed their way as Mikasa and Eren started to tap at their phones, with Petra looking like she was explaining something on her own phone.

They were downloading the app.

A young boy, a few inches taller than Eren joined the crowd. Levi followed the taller boy's gaze as they landed on Mikasa.

He tried to make sense of the conversation. Lip reading had never been his forte though.

"I don't recognize the taller guy," Hange admitted.

It was someone else who answered the question. "That's one of Eren's friends, Jean."

Levi turned behind him to see Zeke, the latter making his way to the seat on the other side of Hange. And just like that, Hange had turned away from him and started to engage with Zeke. When Hange willed it, it looked like she had a way of just making her voice unintelligible to him. Levi considered craning his neck, just to pick up some of the conversation, yet it seemed almost intruding.

That was Zeke and Hange’s conversation not his.

So he stared at the trio in front of him. When he had nothing else to do but encode the stack of papers next to him or make some mental detour about how they should automate such an archaic process, he found it easy to remember the names of the three kids, all an even distance away from each other, their eyes all on their phones.

Eren, Mikasa and Jean. Levi leaned back and watched the events in front of him unfold.

The gym was a constant slew of echoes and alarms and he couldn’t really tell the exact alarm that could have been from any of the three of them. He had to rely on expressions.

Jean turned a bright red. Mikasa had made a seemingly apologetic look at Jean. Then at Eren?

Eren didn’t blush, but he had seemed a little uncomfortable at the turn of events, apparent in the way he had tensed up, the way he turned his head sharply towards Jean.

Mikasa walked in between both boys, holding her hands up as if to separate the two. Maybe the dark glare she had given both boys had done the trick. The tension remained but there seemed little to no threat of a scuffle anymore.

Somewhere along the way, Eld had appeared next to the three with six sheets of paper and three pens. Eren came from behind Mikasa, walking notably nearer to her than a while ago.

They were whispering. Mikasa turned behind her to Jean who was following behind, a wide eyed look on her face and soon after Eld left, Zeke appeared next to Eren. He looked like he was pacifying the young teenager while the latter had gripped at his two sheets a little too hard.

Talking to him? Advising him? Levi didn’t ponder for long. He decided he didn’t want to think about Zeke.

“Zeke filled me in.” Of all things, that had been Hange’s conversation starter.

Levi didn’t know if he should be grateful or just irritated that of all things Hange had to mention him. “Go on,” he said as if just speaking would be enough to get rid of that twinge of irritation.

“It looks like Eren doesn’t know yet that he likes Mikasa. Or that’s Zeke’s speculation. So Zeke expected it to ring.”

“Wow, your husband takes the time out of his busy schedule to actually speculate on the love life of his younger brother.” Levi attempted not to lace his tone with sarcasm. As it turned out, even a sentence like that sounding emotionless or even friendly would seem sarcastic.

If Hange did notice it, she ignored it. “With the looks on their faces, I’m guessing it did ring.”

“For both of them?”

“For both of them maybe,” Hange said.

Another stack of papers were dropped in front of them, a few greetings were exchanged care of Gunther and once again, Levi was sifting through the pile for the more crumpled papers.

There were no names but he could make an intelligent guess. The crumpled papers were Eren’s definitely.

Did the alarm ring with your partner? Yes.

Just under it were two more papers.

Did the alarm ring? Yes.

Did the alarm ring? Yes.

“That looks like Eren’s hand writing, and that one’s Mikasa,” Hange pointed out. “I knew it.”

“So this means, Mikasa’s alarm rang with both Eren and Jean,” Levi said as he ran his hands over the papers.

Did the alarm ring? Yes.

“Then maybe, Jean’s alarm rang with Mikasa?” Hange guessed, giving him an expectant look. “Jean is one of Eren’s close friends from school apparently, and according to Zeke, he has the hots for Mikasa too.”

Levi looked at Hange. Her eyebrows were raised, her mouth played into a wide grin and for just a second, Levi could have felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Well who do you think Mikasa will pick?”

“That’s her choice right?”

“Zeke told me, one reason he wanted to test the love alarm here was to get his brother in one place with all the others who were crushing on Mikasa. He wanted Eren and Mikasa to realize something. Something that only the Love Alarm can prove maybe?"

"Love? Yearning?" Levi was spouting all too familiar emotions, or more specifically, he was spitting them out, like they were laced with poison.

Hange shrugged. "The love alarm causes chaos but sometimes it can tie loose ends."

Something inside him snapped. "Then why the fuck bring it up if you're just gonna answer with something vague."

Hange didn't seem surprised at all, and the more Levi stared, the more he realized he would have been annoyed either way.

A surprised Hange meant she probably didn't care. An expectant Hange meant she was hiding something.

"Levi…" Hange started. She took her time saying his name but she didn't say much else afterwards as if she was at a loss for words.

"We've been talking since a while ago. " Levi asked. "I wanna know, what are you trying to tell me? There must be a point to all these conversations."

"There's a point to this."

"Then, What. Is. It." Levi challenged.

"I told you, I don't want to rely on this love alarm to tell me how to feel. I want to decide how to feel."

"Want?"

"I will not allow it to tell me how I feel."

"Then I guess we won't agree. Look, I don't care about changing our circumstances right now. I don't give a fuck if after all this you leave." Levi mustered up some courage to look up at Hange.

She seemed lost in thought, yet at the same time, she seemed to be staring straight into him.

Levi only saw it as opportunity to continue but he was a little more careful that time, letting his voice soften into a whisper. "The most I want out of you is just some proof that this love alarm thing wasn't a sham. You said it yourself, it's not a bug right? Why did you say that? Why did you say that and now you're suddenly pretending that nothing happened?"

Hange opened her mouth to speak and she couldn't have gone any slower. He would have liked to blame the anticipation at first, the thick heavy tension that only made it harder to move.

When a box dropped in between both of them with a thump, Levi concluded, Hange had just been slow, fucking slow.

"We have a new phone. Download the app in, let's test," Zeke ordered. Who the hell was he ordering at that moment? Levi and Hange both couldn't tell.

Yet, their responses were surprisingly coordinated. Hange went for the box, quickly unwrapping it. Levi went for his laptop, pulling credentials from the system and a download link to be sent to the new phone.

It was only halfway through, when he was sending over the link did he notice it. Reciting the log-in details, he was only silently and peacefully walking to whatever chaos awaited them at the end. Yet, somehow he couldn't stop. Hange had seemed accepting too, overly professional about the whole process of testing and possibly inadvertently exposing her strange yet very personal love alarm results.

Around the time when Hange was going through the biometrics, Levi thought it polite to resist just a little. "You sure you wanna go through with this?"

"Who said I wanted to?" Hange asked.

"You know what I mean."

"Well, what do we tell Zeke then?"

Levi couldn't think up a response to that so he kept quiet. He let his mind wander. Then he agreed it wasn't a matter of Hange wanting to do something.

It was a matter of Zeke getting what he wanted.

Levi couldn't sit still. He couldn't bring himself to even get past the first paper on his new pile. His eyes were on the screen in front of him but he had snuck glances just above him towards the crowds of people so often that he might as well have just been looking ahead.

Eventually, he dropped the pile, gave up on getting any more done. He lost all self consciousness and just looked straight ahead.

It felt like he was watching an execution. It could have been his own execution, Hange’s execution or maybe even the whole company’s in slow motion.

He couldn't answer that particular question yet. With time, maybe he could. All he had to do was get past the few minutes that seemed like years, even decades.

Zeke was taking his sweet time, murmuring sweet nothings to Hange and Hange had taken her sweet time double checking those fucking biometrics. To the point where Levi actually spent a good amount of time brainstorming how to streamline the whole registration process.

The build up had been unbearably slow. Fucking slow. Petra stood next to them, preparing two sheets of paper and Levi found himself passing the time trying to answer it in his head.

The climax came very anticlimactically.

There were less people in the gym already, especially so late in the day. So when Levi craned his neck to hear it, he could almost pick it out, that one ring on their side of the gym. He only surmised that Hange's alarm rang when he noticed the way Zeke had wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brows.

Hange's back was to the moderator's table so Levi couldn't make out her face, as desperate as he was to know.

He wasn't that desperate yet. In fact, his own reaction to the chain of events didn't come as quickly as he had wanted to. Of all things, it had been Erwin’s expectant stare, the uncharacteristic panic in his eyes that had Levi standing.

“Levi could you check up on them?” It was Erwin’s order that had Levi making his way to them.

It had been the look of panic in Petra’s face that had him speeding up. And the closer he got, the more he realized how much he had wanted to see Hange’s face.

But business came first. “It looks like there’s still something wrong with the app.” Zeke’s words had surprisingly been polite. Levi’s first instinct was to search for the venom and the sarcasm and maybe he had sensed some.

For a mainly back office employee, diplomacy had seemed like the hardest part. There were only two things Levi would have been most comfortable doing then: turn to Petra and have her do the speaking or step forward, look back and take a peak at Hange who had stood unmoving since the alarm rang.

A sense of obligation was all he needed to meet Zeke’s eyes. He had to clench his jaw, he had to narrow his eyes just to keep some grip on the situation.

And it might only get worse.

He stepped forward, a few more steps then past Hange and it was only getting harder not to look back.

Zeke’s presence was domineering. His money, his power over whatever work Levi was doing was an unignorable reality. “It looks like the Love Alarm might not be working as expected," he said calmly.

Levi had his months worth of research and testing to look back to. And one thought, one long split second later, one deep breath later, he let it out, not confidently but just professional enough to at least get his point across.

“It’s working as expected,” Levi mustered. How many ways could he say something like that without insulting a billionaire? He wondered what Erwin would have said, what Hange would have said, what crazy lingo their marketing or public relations team would have come up with. Levi though had been the one who had slaved for years over that application. He would have been the only one to know the gravity of such a statement. “The love alarm is working as expected,” he repeated, just in case the message didn’t come across.

Maybe it didn’t. Zeke narrowed his eyes. “How can you be sure? Have you done the proper testing?”

“We’ve been testing this for months. Mr. Jaeger, it’s working as expected,” Levi repeated. He willed himself to keep the tone at the least, emotionless. At that moment, when he was also resisting the urge to look back at Hange it had been almost an impossible task.

Zeke let out one exhale. Then, his voice was soft, almost deathly cold. “Would you like to test again Mr. Ackerman?”

Test? Levi let his mouth drop just half way down. “Here?”

“You've taken a liking to Hange haven't you? I heard about it, if I've not noticed it myself.

Heard from who? Asking questions, Levi knew he would be only delaying the inevitable and a part of him wanted to delay it.

“Levi go turn on your Love Alarm,” Erwin ordered.

At the least, he had an excuse to look back. He caught Hange behind him for a split second. Her face was a strange mix between utter acceptance. The more Levi looked though, the easier it had been to pick out something else. A hint of pleading, too small that it could have been his imagination.

Levi looked away.

And Erwin wasn’t allowing him a second look. “Levi, is something wrong?” It wasn’t a question of concern. Levi had know Erwin enough to guess, it was merely a nice way of telling him to hurry.

Levi pulled his phone from his pocket, navigated to the application and activated in one quick motion. If he spared any more time, he might just hesitate.

There were three separate rings that filled the dead air between the four of them. At first, Levi had attributed the profundity, the implicit ringing in his ears to just the weight of the moment. Time was moving at a snail’s pace and by the time he had come to his senses, by the time Zeke had brought out his phone turning the empty screen towards him, Levi was suddenly aware that there were only three rings that graced the whole gym.

The gym had gone silent. All eyes were on them and the ringing of the three arms only continued, supplemented by whatever echoes followed.

And it would only continue unless someone moved to turn off their love alarm. Even in complete shock, Levi surmised that much.

Erwin had been the first to have composed himself. He took one to step back, then a few more. Then he was completely out of range of the love alarm.

The three alarms continued to ring.

Zeke was next to move. His face was completely unreadable and he had bent his head down, his eyes seeming glued to the screen.

From that angle, Levi could never be too sure of Zeke’s reaction.

Zeke eventually looked up, his face cold, almost expressionless. He held his phone up, only dangling it from the ground by three fingers.

The contents though were what had Levi still struggling to move. It had been expected, but to see it in the silence, when the air around them was heavy, when they were under close watch by tens if not hundreds of people, that had only served to make his stomach drop.

Zeke deactivated the alarm, and the alarm, barren of any hearts, shifted back to the title screen.

One sound disappeared. Two were left. And when everything else was silent, Levi couldn’t help but grovel silently at how annoyingly loud the ringing actually was.

He looked back at Hange. She had stood quiet and unmoving those few moments that seemed to last an eternity. When Levi looked back though, their gazes locked almost instantly.

Hange’s eyes were wide, her mouth pursed into some lopsided line and when Levi looked closer, he could have sworn he saw that flash of pleading again.

Pleading for what?

In such a fast paced world, on a Monday of all days, there was not much time to ponder. He had felt almost guilty staring, finding some way to placate her with his eyes alone. Eventually they were escorted out. Hange and Zeke went ahead and Hange as usual, had Zeke’s strong protective arm around her.

“Levi, we’re going to have to discuss this,” Erwin said. He walked ahead, gesturing for Levi to follow behind.

As always, Levi followed, slowly and sluggishly. It took him a minute more to realize he had almost forgotten to turn off the alarm.

***

“There’s no bug,” Levi repeated again. He attempted to compose himself but there was only so much he could do when he was the only one standing in the small conference room.

Zeke had settled on the sofa and as expected, no one protested. He put one hand to his chin, in mock surprise. “I could have sworn it had been working a few months ago.”

“We had a test build.” Hange spoke up from next to him, her voice was soft. It lacked the melody it usually had. “We needed the funds to continue digging into that bug so we created a build… for extra testing.”

“And I would have gladly given the funds either way,” Zeke said. “The burning question is, did you even find the bug?”

“There’s. No. Bug.” Levi kept his tone firm and professional. He wondered if the venom had made it out of his mouth.

“You gave up pretty fast,” Zeke commented.

And that was the moment Levi realized, there were things Zeke might never understand about the testing process. It was a complete waste of time explaining the difficulty of labor to someone who treated an ordinary person’s full time job as just another vessel for investment.

“Tell me, Mr. Ackerman. If there’s no bug, can you explain to me the reason behind the strange behavior of the application?” Zeke said.

The question had come as a challenge, something Levi was in no mood to take. When Erwin was giving him a long side eyed glance, he knew he’d have to make something work.

“It tests compatibility,” Levi said. “How well people would probably make as a pair, the potential to… get together.” He found himself dancing around definitions, avoiding the word ‘love’ like a plague.

But that wasn’t love. He would rather it wasn't love. Then and there, he almost considered applying for a name change.

“Zeke, love is a choice,” Hange said. “Whatever result the application gives is never going to affect this relationship. I wouldn’t let it.”

“Can you explain then why you have so much faith in this application then?”

Hange turned to Levi and nodded. “It has potential.”

“Potential for further research. You told me that before,” Zeke’s voice was only getting louder. “But can you really trust this application, this developer, after he inadvertently confesses, after your own application rings for him. And he refuses to admit to a bug.”

“Because it’s not a bug,” Hange said. “I was testing with him, I know.”

“So are you saying you’re in love with Mr. Ackerman?”

Hange dropped her shoulders, then looked straight ahead. “In another life, maybe we could have been compatible. If things didn’t end the way it did, maybe Levi and I could have gotten together and we would have been happy. I think that’s what the love alarm meant to say. Circumstances are different though. I’m married to you. I am committed to you.”

“But, are you in love with him?” Zeke pressed.

Hange shook her head. “I don’t think the Love Alarm measures love. It measures emotions, compatibility. Zeke, this thing between is, it's something we built overtime, something we grew together?”

Zeke narrowed his eyes at Hange and Levi followed his eyes back to her to see that pleading expression once again. Hange was still pleading, that time that expression was directed towards Zeke.

“Is it, Hange? Is love something which grows over time?” Zeke pressed.

Levi noticed Hange's face had fallen, her eyes widened but the pleading in her expression only grew. Then Levi made a silent yet outrageous guess.

Hange was pleading. Pleading for answers?

Zeke turned to Erwin then to Levi, his eyes once again cold and serious. "Can you give me and Hange some space first? We need to discuss something."

Maybe Zeke had guessed something similar and as Erwin led Levi out of the room, he was starting to accept that he might never know. Levi’s legs were heavy. The glass door had difficult to pull close and when he had shut the door behind him with a click, he felt like he had been lifting weights.

Or maybe he was just finding an excuse not to leave. There was that in between, something similar to the desolation of rejection and another pathetic emotion.

Denial. There was more to their circumstances for sure. Hange’s strange expression, the wide eyes, the almost seemingly curious glimmer and the pleading that never seemed to fall away.

Out of curiosity, or even desperation, Levi ended up waiting outside for a second longer, positioning himself somewhere where he wouldn’t so easily be seen.

The door was an orderly combination of frosted glass, wooden frames and transparent glass. When Levi sat on the sofa just in front of the doorway, burying himself into some social media timeline, he still had enough headspace to crane his neck up, and just make out positions just behind the frosted class.

Behind the portion of clearer glass, Levi could see Hange was still sitting on the sofa but her posture had shifted into something strangely uncharacteristic. She rested her forehead on her palm and she was bending over, staring at something at the palm of her hand.

The familiar silver of Zeke's phone. What was she staring at?

It felt almost intrusive asking, so Levi ended his own mental reflection there. Instead, he focused on how Hange had looked back up, a look of panic, concern. She was calling out to Zeke maybe?

In a few swift movements, Zeke had come right beside her, he pressed her towards the clear glass.

And he kissed her.

Head empty, thoughts elsewhere, Levi didn't feel it immediately. But eventually it did come. It was a strong wave and for a while, Levi was bombarded.

A second later, he was drowning.

Over a small view? Something between the slits of glass? When he got his grip back on reality, he let his eyes wander over the intricate design of the door and to to the only part of Hange that was reflecting some glimmer of protest.

The fingers of her right hand were pressed on the doorway and Levi continued to watch that less painful view from the one just above it. Hange’s hand continued to twitch, then it went back up and gripped Zeke by the waist. Then suddenly her arm had snaked over Zeke's back then pulled him into one tight embrace.

One tight embrace in front of him and Levi started to think it almost laughable that he had even searched for some rebellion in that intimate moment.

Why would she rebel? She told him herself, she loved him. Yet, why was he still searching for something? Why did he hyperfixate on such a subtle movement that could have meant nothing in that grand scheme of things.

And when Levi mustered the courage to look away from the hand, back up to the view of their heads pressed against each other, he noticed Zeke was looking in his direction. When their eyes met, Zeke narrowed them and raised his chin up in some strange indignance, some vague threat. Then his curled up into a small smile, not wide enough to have ever been genuine.

And the overall expression had Levi dropping his shadows in some cruel realization. Why did he feel like he had lost something? Not just someone but some game.

Had he even been playing?

With that strange expression directed towards him , Levi deemed his very small yet personal search useless and suspended it altogether.

Something pricked at his eyes, his lips trembled and by god, did he want to call it a day. His legs were jelly, deadweight at the same time. His hands didn't feel like his. Still, he moved mechanically to nothing, one step at a time towards the door.

Suddenly aware of social graces, he shook his head and scolded himself once again for getting in the way of such an intimate moment.

He met Erwin outside and by the time Erwin had asked why he had taken so long, Levi had already found ways to compose himself. “Just had to check something on my phone.” It didn’t make much sense but at that moment, sense was the last thing on Levi’s mind.

"I'm going to have a long talk with Zeke about that contract."

"Do you need help?" Levi asked.

Erwin shook his head. "No, this is between me and Zeke. Focus on the alarm."

"I will… No, Hange and I will." Adding her name had only made the prospect of bouncing back from such an ordeal almost stomachable.

But it had worked for only just a few minutes. When Hange and Zeke had left the office, it backfired magnificently.

And all he needed was that one-sided exchange to bring him back to that point of utter desolation.

"Hange, I'll see you tomorrow?" Levi asked.

Hange didn’t respond. Notably, she had been walking faster towards the exit of the gym, only trailing behind Zeke.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Hange…" Before he knew it, he had followed her through the campus grounds. Before he even felt it, he had clutched a shaking hand.

'Levi, let me go, will you?" Hange didn’t seem at all angry. Hell, she had been smiling since even before their eyes locked. Her manner of speaking, her words, then that last expression before she turned her back on him, they all seemed to have a calming effect.

It was easier to let go of her hand, easier to watch silently as she and Zeke turned the corner towards the open parking lot.

But her final parting words burned into even the recesses of his mind. And those words stayed there, the whole train ride home, the whole trek back up to his small studio apartment.

For the first time, Levi went straight to sleep. Of course he would, it had been a long day, too many things happened and he was fucking tired.

But extreme exhaustion was never just exhaustion. Sometimes, he even forgot how much control emotions had over the physical.

Out of curiosity, he opened his alarm to make sense of that strange exhaustion. He noted the blur that came with his own bleary view.

Then the colors and contours settled. Then he noted a pale sky blue.

***

Levi had always been a stickler for cleanliness.

Hange's writings on the whiteboard was a nagging antithesis. They were a conglomerate of careless scribbles, some parts faint other parts dark. Hange never bothered to write over them, never bothered to write on the white board with the same pressure every time.

And she never even wrote in a straight line.

Wingsoffreedom123

Wingsoffreedom213

Wingsoffreedom231

Wingsoffreedom321

Wingsoffreedom312

Wingsoffreedom132

The lines only bent, fell over or climbed as she wrote them and they only acted as some sort of distraction especially when Levi was in a constant process of organizing and reorganizing both his thoughts and his actual belongings.

Yet somehow, Levi couldn't stop staring at the lines of used emails and the check marks next to them. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to erase it and write over it, despite the codes, the plans running through his mind, demanding to be let out.

Maybe he could ask her for permission, maybe scold her for not cleaning up.

At around ten that Tuesday morning, he called, only to receive a dial tone. And he listened to that dial tone for a few minutes longer, while staring at the messy white board on front of him.

Hange was an utter mess. He thought loudly to himself. Then he found himself a little more ticked to have a whiteboard with shitty scribbles on it.

The eraser was right under the board. Yet as easy as it would be to erase it, somehow he couldn’t.

He turned back to his computer, opened his workflow tracker and started a new project just for both of them. He added the resources, the codes and the latest build of that birthday present he had created just for her.

He opened a virtual drawing board on his tablet, drawing plans for new colors, plans to quantify emotions and plans to connect a phone to some desktop view dashboard.

He didn’t know what Hange would need, what Hange was envisioning or however way he could make sense of numbers or assign them into each emotion just yet.

If he just created a few formulas, suggested a few codes, Hange would give her feedback anyway. He booted his phone up and opened his chat with Hange.

11:00 AM

Hey, you’re going to the office today?

Lunch break passed without any hitches so Levi decided to stare at the whiteboard again just to annoy himself enough to want to message Hange again.

2:26 PM

Are you done with the whiteboard? I’m gonna erase what you wrote.

She didn’t reply.

He sent over those same questions, those same threats multiple times a day over the week and every time, the result had been the same.

No response.

As week turned into two weeks, then three, he realized he had never planned on erasing it in the first place. Somehow, he wanted that antithesis, that glaring reminder that it hadn’t just been his office space anymore.

Work and responsibilities had become some sort of a solace, a godsend in their own little way. With enough post release questions to answer, with enough data from the testing to make some sense of, Levi was constantly busy. With bugs constantly rearing their ugly heads, demanding to be solved, Levi had at least managed to pretend he wasn’t always thinking about her.

[pearlsephoni]

The Trial of Shoyo Hinata’s Rising Heartrate, Evidence One: The Hike

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: G

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Kagehina (Hinata/Kageyama)

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, Daichi Sawamura

Word Count: 1,853

Summary: Shoyo Hinata's feelings for Tobio Kageyama are perfectly normal. There's nothing weird about him only caring about Kageyama's compliments, high-fives, and smiles. And there's definitely nothing weird about him blushing when he finally gets any of them. ...Right?

A/N: The first chapter of my first multi-chapter fic, in honor of Hinata’s birthday! Happy birthday to our sweet little sun! :’) Further author’s notes can be read on AO3.

Sawamura was going to kill them. 

Not that anyone on the team would be surprised. This wasn’t the first time that Hinata and Kageyama had sped past the end of the training path, only stopping when their legs gave out. But as they laid side by side on the grass by the road, Hinata had the sinking realization that this was the first time he couldn’t seem to get his legs back under him. He could hear Kageyama shifting to sit up next to him, but all he could do was continue staring into the sun. 

“Oi, Hinata. We should head back.” 

“R-right. Yeah.” 

He could hear more shifting, then a shadow fell over him as a towering figure blocked out the sun. “Hey dumbass, did you hear me? We gotta get back.” 

“Don’t call me dumbass, dumbass. I heard you!” 

“Then why aren’t you moving?!” 

“Just give me a minute!” Hinata’s arms shook, but somehow he was able to push himself in a seated position. A good start. Now he just had to stand up. Easy. Simple. Except… “Uh...Kageyama?” 

“What?” 

“...I can’t move.” He flinched under the look of disbelief Kageyama pinned on him. 

“What are you, 80? Just stand up.” 

“I’m trying! Stop yelling at me and give me a hand.” 

“Unbelievable…” 

Truth be told, Hinata didn’t expect Kageyama to actually hold out a hand. He was focused on trying to push himself to his feet, and nearly ran into the hand that was suddenly in front of his face. For an embarrassing moment, all he could do was blink in confusion at the calloused fingers. 

“...Do you need help, or not?” 

“Y-yeah...yeah, just-” They were both frowning as Hinata took Kageyama’s hand and let him pull him to his feet...only for Hinata’s legs to give out under him, forcing him back to the ground. And this time, he brought Kageyama with him. 

The fall felt like it happened in slow motion. Hinata could hear the air whistling past his ears as he fell, and he could see the horror dawning on Kageyama’s face as their bodies collided. Then Hinata’s back smacked into the grass, the impact pushing all the air out of him in a single grunt. 

For a moment, his brain was really, truly empty of thought. He was only aware of the dull ache in his back joining the numbness of his legs, the weight of Kageyama on him, and the blinding light of the sun beating down on them both. 

It was a nice moment. Fitting for the calm before the storm that came with Kageyama finally processing what had happened.

“The hell is wrong with you?! Did you break your legs or your brain?” 

Hinata couldn’t say anything until Kageyama scrambled off of him and he could take a proper breath of air, and even then, talking seemed to take too much out of him. “I said...couldn’t move…” was all he could choke out as he struggled to sit back up. 

His eyes met Kageyama’s once he sat up, and in his dazed exhaustion, he couldn’t seem to look away. He just...stared, silently taking in those blue eyes and pink cheeks, unaware of what he was doing until he felt a hand gently smacking his cheek. Or at least, as gently as Kageyama could manage. “Hey. Are you seriously not ok? You don’t look too good.” 

Hinata’s answer came in the form of his head falling to Kageyama’s chest, sweaty bangs sticking to Kageyama’s equally-sweaty shirt. He could feel Kageyama go completely still under his forehead, and he wondered if he was letting him stay like that out of kindness, or if shock was just making him freeze up again. 

Another silent moment passed before Kageyama spoke up, his voice sounding a bit strained. “Move.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Just...sit up, idiot. Get off me.” Again, Hinata didn’t expect him to help, didn’t expect his hands on his shoulders shifting him back into a normal, seated position. And again, he couldn’t do much more than watch Kageyama, though this time he couldn’t help wondering at the darkening blush that was still on his cheeks. Was his head really so heavy that the effort of holding it up made Kageyama flush? Does that mean my brain is big? Should I tell him that? Maybe then he’ll stop calling me dumba- 

“Alright, get on.” 

“Huh?” Hinata was snapped out of his wandering thoughts, and found himself staring at Kageyama crouched in front of him, with his back facing him. 

“We’re never gonna make it back down with your weak legs giving out every two steps. And the Captain's already gonna kick our asses for taking so long. So...get on.” 

“Okay…” Even if he hadn’t been weak from exhaustion, Hinata would’ve been awkward trying to drape his arms around Kageyama’s shoulders and settle himself against his back. As it was, he had to let himself be manhandled a bit until Kageyama was satisfied he was secure enough. 

Finally, he slowly got to his feet, jostling Hinata and making him cling closer. “God...how is someone so small so freaking heavy?” 

“Shut up,” Hinata mumbled, his words missing their usual bite. He was suddenly, deeply aware of Kageyama’s muscles flexing under him, his hands gripping his legs, and the smell of his sweat filling his nose. Hinata always knew the setter was strong - he had to be, for the way he ran across the court and set the perfect shots - but he’d never...felt his strength before. And he’d never thought he would like the feeling of Kageyama’s muscles working around and beneath him. 

But he did. He really, really liked it, and he couldn’t help pressing a little closer, letting his chest rest against Kageyama’s back and his chin rest on his shoulder, despite how sweaty they both were. Red hair mingled with black as a breeze blew by them, cooling Hinata’s sweat and rustling the leaves in a gentle hum, like a soft lullaby that encouraged his eyelids to grow heavier...and heavier…

“Hey. You better not be asleep.” 

Hinata’s head jerked up at the sound of Kageyama’s voice, which sounded strangely hoarse again. “Huh?” 

“If you’re sleeping while I’m busting my ass getting you back, I swear to god…” 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” 

Kageyama fell quiet at his response, and Hinata knew why. Between his exhaustion and his confusing realization, he didn’t have it in him to rise to Kageyama’s taunts and nags. Still, he didn’t think the setter would care. If anything, he thought his quiet mood would welcome more bullying from Kageyama, especially when he was doing such a huge favor in carrying Hinata back. 

Hinata certainly didn’t expect to hear, “Maybe we should skip the rest of practice.” 

“What?!” 

“You can’t even walk, and I dunno if I’ll be able to either, after hauling your sorry ass back. Maybe...maybe I should take you to the school nurse, or get Coach to drive you a doctor.” 

“Are you kidding me? I’m just...I’m just a little tired, I’ll be fine if I just sit out for a set.” 

“Like hell you will be!” Kageyama’s head turned to shoot a sideways glare, the movement nearly making Hinata’s nose brush his cheek before the redhead jerked back. “Think about it, you idiot. Your body is already overworked. If you keep trying to push it today, then it’ll force you to sit out for a lot more than one practice. Just give it a rest.” 

Hinata scowled, but no matter how much he racked his brains for anything he could remember from biology class, he knew Kageyama was right. Pushing himself anymore that day was a recipe for disaster. Still, he hated admitting that Kageyama was right. All he could muster as his chin fell back onto his shoulder was a mumbled, “Didn’t think you’d care so much.” 

“Of course I care. You’re one half of our freak quick attack. Without you, I’m just…” 

“...the genius first-year setter? Who can set perfectly for any player? Who stole the starting setter position from a third year?” 

“Quit complimenting me, it’s freaking me out.” Kageyama tried to turn his face away from the shoulder Hinata’s head was resting on, but he couldn’t hide his bright red flush and pleased grin, which only broadened at Hinata’s triumphant laugh. 

“Awwww, am I making you shy?” Hinata crowed, tightening his arms around Kageyama’s shoulders and pressing their cheeks together. “Lil old me is making you shy?” 

“Would you shut up? Sit still, or I’m gonna leave your ass here.” 

Hinata obeyed, but for the rest of the ride, his energy seemed to have returned just enough for his smile to be back on his face and his words to make Kageyama’s lips twitch with suppressed grins despite his furrowed brows. 

By the time they were back at the school, Hinata was able to walk on his own legs back to the gym, which let him avoid the worst of Sawamura’s lecture. He and Kageyama still dodged the captain’s dark gaze that seemed to spark with anger as he lectured them. 

“Are you two for real? We only have a few weeks until the inter-high qualifiers, and you two are getting so caught up in your little personal competitions that you can’t even take practice seriously?” 

“No, Captain.” 

“Really? Because it sure does feel that way. If this happens again, then we might have to give your starting positions to someone who can actually come to practice and get their work done. Understand?” 

Their eyes jerked up from the floor, indignant frowns etched across their faces, only to wither under Sawamura’s stern eyes. “…Yes, Captain.” 

“Good. Hinata, you sit out of the spiking drills and get some electrolytes in you. Kageyama, are you feeling alright? Do you need some more time?” 

“No, I’m good.” 

Sawamura stared at them for an extra second before nodding and turning away, though he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. As soon as he walked away, Kageyama shot Hinata a smug grin. “Enjoy the show, scrub.” 

“Shut up! I’ll be back out there and hitting your tosses in no time!” Hinata snapped, his frown deepening when Kageyama kept grinning at him. 

“Good.” And with that, Kageyama was joining the rest of the team on the court, leaving Hinata squatting on the sidelines with a flush on his cheeks and confusion lining his brows. The setter was being a jerk as always, so why did Hinata feel so relieved at the thought that he specifically wanted to run drills with him? And why did that thought make his indignation melt into something more like bashfulness? And why were his cheeks so warm? 

It must’ve been his dehydration. He was just tired and needed to refuel himself. That was it. Hinata gave himself a resolute nod, satisfied with his clear skills in deduction, and didn’t spare another thought for his strange feelings for the rest of the day. 

He had no idea what he was in for.

[hecohansen31]

Rev Up Your Engines

Team Manager! Ivar x Team Manager! Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I did this small thing for @dreamwritesimagines‘ challenge (her fics are actually one of the first that I ever read and they are the ones that inspired me to start writing and be active in the ‘Vikings’ fandom).

I do hope you’ll like it and this might be a series (although after October I’ll stop writing other stories).

Also I just wanted to give you a few heads up since this is set up in a MotoGP AU:

FIM=the guys who check regulations and other stuff (give penalties and check the circuits).

There are three steps before qualifying (FP1, FP2, FP3) (which are basically free practice) and there there is qualifying and the race.

If you need anymore info, I am here.

If you liked this, please consider leaving me some feedback, either through a comment or a reblog, I’d just apprecciate to know if you like this kind of thing or would be interested in others.

Feedback makes us writers write faster, and our heats beat stronger!

Have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: Having a rival such as Ivarr can be the worst nightmare for many, even more for you, who seems to be his latest prey outside of the circuit.

WORDS: 5,5 K

WARNINGS: Bullying, Misogyny, Mention of Dementia and Herat Problems, Troubled Family.

Women in sports were only welcomed in two ways: silent or in bikinis.

And you weren’t in neither of the positions.

You were actually in the worst position for a woman in a sport like ‘MotoGP’.

You were the daughter of a stable owner, having inherited the whole stable after your father’s heart problems had obliged him to stay behind.

Your hands were already hands in the family business, operating through a more secluded area, mostly in the social media market, when your father had asked you to take care of his beloved stable, the thing that had always brought him away from you.

And you had taken it onto yourself.

Although you barely knew anything about the dangerous sport.

You had at first tried your best through informing about all the important things of the sport, although your researches had been mostly done by yourself, because the team wasn’t very cooperative, even more after you had shown your interest in the more practical side of it.

Everybody expected you just to sign checks and party with the pilots.

So, when you had suggested innovations to both the team and the bikes, you had been met with weirded out eyes and annoyed dismissals.

And you had to admit that the whole thing was heavy on you, who had never liked the whole biking panorama, mostly because although your father had been thoroughly a fan of it, you had grown with your mother, separated by a father that spent more time at the stables than at home and eventually this had brought your mother to exhaustion, making her run away when you were barely fifteen and you had been left to raise yourself on your own.

Still, ignoring your obvious disinterest, you had done everything in order to pass the winter tests and present yourself with a powerful team of mechanics and a duo of young but promising riders, coming to the first competition with hopes and expectations, just to get your idiotic riders to crash into each other.

And you had been greeted with the laughing of all the other teams on the team radio.

To say that you were displeased it was an euphemism and you had almost thought of seriously leaving the reigns of everything to the whole mechanic team, but eventually you had just tightened your teeth and got your idiotic riders to collaborate, through threats and small smiles.

And eventually you had set yourself to become fourth in the ‘constructors’ championship’, something that wasn’t bad, in the slightest, even more because your father, in the latest years, had always hung lower in the gradings…

… but as you had slowly started to raise in the motosport climate, you had soon understood that it wasn’t simply your own team who didn’t like your presence, but also others…

… more specifically the team that was in third place in the constructors’ championship: the Lothbrock.

It was also a family-established stable, the sons having inherited it from their father, but unlike you, they weren’t only an all-male group, but also they had stuck on the circuits for much more time than you, not only having more experience, but also having more complicity with the whole team.

Ragnar Lothbrock had created the team with the few money he had received from his own father, siding with a bigger stable, and eventually growing to fame and success as he gained slowly more and more freedom, which lead to him creating his own independent stable.

His sons had inherited it after his untimely death and if what their father had done was extraordinary, what they did was miraculous and extremely fulfilling, although they hadn’t yet won a championship, unlike their father.

Not to talk about the fact that Hvitserk, one of the youngest brothers, rode on the satellite team, ‘Lothbrock: The White Tire’.

They were highly competitive, even more because exactly like you, in their father’s late years they had lost much of the prestige for their own stables, although as of lately they had come to good places both in the riders’ championship and the constructors’.

All of this had been obtained under the lead of the youngest brother, Ivar, covering the same position as of you, in the team, setting himself apart from his brothers, and being the most competitive, although in a very non-sportive way.

And as of lately his focus had ended up on your own team.

Which was an obvious choice since you were the ones that were the closest to them and had one of your riders ended up on the podium the following week, you would have passed them, catching the third place.

So, flashforward to the following week, and right as you were partying for your first rider’s third place, champagne all over your clothes, you had been asked to follow the security to the commission, because that your rider’s podium was actually being discussed.

‘Your rider ended up on the green’ had tried to explain to the member of the staff, who had come to you to give you the bad news, as they passed you a piece of paper with a written complain.

Signed by the Lothbrocks.

‘I do know of that, but…’ you had shot back, already red from anger, as a few of the spokespeople of your team came near to you, trying to ease up with diplomacy the whole discourse ‘… he fucking got pushed by the Lothbrock driver’.

You knew perfectly that the rules required for the pilot who ended up on the green to lose a position, but at the same time the FIM had allowed your pilot to reach the podium with no complain.

And it was justified since the Lothbrock driver had basically thrown his front bike against your own, without any solicited contact.

Which had made them end up in the green.

They should be actually the one under investigation for having irresponsible driving.

‘… we are sorry, but you’ll still need to come to the headquarters immediately’.

But you had had to take a bit of time to scream in a bag, not wanting to ruin your riders’ party, and once you were halfway done with your breakdown, Cameron, your head of the mechanics, came to you and tried to calm you down, explaining that you hadn’t any fault in this.

‘I just fucking hate Ivar Lothbrock’ you had muttered, as you swiftly changed your dirtied team-shirt with a new one, in order not to give to your mortal enemy any reason to doubt you or challenge you, at the meeting ‘… why do you have to fucking try every dirty trick in the book, when you could spend the same time getting your fucking bike to be better?’.

‘We don’t all get a team manager with a brain’ had commented the man, softly smiling at you, because there wasn’t much he could do, in such a situation.

But you’d definitely report the incorrect behavior of the stables to the FIM.

‘… just breath calmly’ Cameron had then suggested softly ‘… don’t attack him and don’t lower yourself to his dirty tricks. We know we weren’t at fault for doing that, the FIM ruled it out, they are just being annoying’.

‘… more like assholes’ you uttered under your breath.

But in the end, there wasn’t much you could do, except being calm and talk quietly in order to get the FIM to realize that the Lothbrocks’ pretenses were solely abusing their time.

But as you stepped in, facing Ivar Lothbrock’s annoying arrogant smirk, you were halfway through having a hard time stopping yourself from hitting him square in the face.

‘… you were making us wait’ he simply commented almost as a justification for his shit face, as he crossed his arms over his chest, already plopped in his chair meanwhile behind him stood his older brother, Ubbe, looking as happy to be there as you.

‘… sorry your Majesty’ you muttered, gaining an harsh look from the team manager, although it was laced with surprise, because as soon you’d catch him looking at you or trying to stir up a fight, you’d back off, ignoring him.

He wasn’t used to you answering him.

‘… I was partying with my pilot’ you added just for the extra burn.

‘Congrats…’ he uttered, as impressed with you as he was with the dirt beneath his nails.

‘Gentleman and…’ the FIM inspector assigned to your case recalled you order “… lady”.

You sat down, keeping your gaze on whatever was in front of you, not wanting to give Ivar the satisfaction of even letting him bother you.

‘… Mrs. (L/N), you have already received a preview of why we have asked you to come here, but I’d like to explain it to you again’.

Oh Gosh, didn’t you love some ‘mansplaining’?

As if you hadn’t read the regulations yourself, consulting yourself with your own pilots and a team of experts.

‘I do know that it is against the rules to go through the green side, and that if a pilot do end up on it on the last lap, they lose a position…’ you retorted quickly, not wanting to lose any ground you stood on ‘… but my pilot didn’t go on the green, he was pushed in it… by Mr. Lothbrock’s pilot. You can obviously see it…”.

“That’s a whole other process” commented harshly the FIM inspector, sending you a glare that said clearly to stick to what you knew and not interfere with this.

But you were fucking pissed.

Even more when Ivar looked like he was extremely pleased with the FIM inspector’s behavior

“It isn’t a completely different process, but…” you tried to protest “… it is easy actually: hadn’t my pilot been pushed he wouldn’t have been thrown on the green. You didn’t rule him out of the third place after the race was finished, why would you do it now?”.

Because it was Ivar who protested.

And because you were an easy prey.

You were the one thing man like the FIM inspector didn’t want between their feet: a woman.

One in power and with many questions.

You could seem completely paranoid.

But had the same thing happened to Ivar, none of these questions would have been sent his way.

“My pilot was trying to overtake yours, the push was accidental” commented Ivar, probably because he had felt like he had been called out by your words, sending the FIM investigator an innocent look as if to say ‘you are crazy if you thought I did it on purpose’.

“… even if it was…” your whole tone seemed completely disbelieving of Ivar’s affirmation “… my pilot didn’t go on the green on purpose”.

“But he ended up on it” muttered the FIM inspector, something that you couldn’t deny, since the cameras of the stewards had caught “… and we have to be stricter with these rules, many have been daring more and more… and it won’t take much before this sport will end up being dangerous than it needs to be”.

“… it has already happened and you weren’t as severe with it as with me, although the pilots used it to their advantage” you muttered, feeling some kind of desperation cursing through you “…in moto 2, there was a similar thing happening and Martin, who went on his own in the green, wasn’t penalized”.

The whole situation was starting to be unbelievable and very much heavy on you, not solely for the fact that being diminished by the inspector in front of everybody was pretty humiliating (and to add something to it, the whole act being witnessed by a smirking Ivar Lothbrock didn’t help) but you couldn’t help but be heartbroken solely at the thought of letting your pilots know that they’d have to step down the podium.

Many would have thought it was a simple sacrifice, but they didn’t know the competition between all the pilots, but also all the sacrifices they made on their own to train to be the best of the best.

“… it’s moto 2” it didn’t seem in the slightest a justification to you, but you had noticed that fighting didn’t help, and neither did calm words or retorting ones “… we’ll announce it, tonight, this way you’ll be able to warn your pilots, and he’ll have to give back the trophy…”.

You had to say that your mind had zeroed after that affirmation, as your eyes found the satisfied ones of Ivar, slowly pushing himself up to talk with his older brother, Ubbe, probably expressing to him his happiness at having managed to make your stable keep your previous position.

Fourth, behind them.

But worse, you felt like a child being reprimanded in front of somebody that you hated.

An embarrassed shade of red coated your cheeks, but you endured it, making a mental note to require another FIM inspector to analyze the case, preferably not a misogynistic idiot.

After the reunion was over the FIM inspector dismissed you and Ivar.

The man immediately raised himself up a bit slowly, to set himself up on his crutches, helped by his brother, although he looked annoyed by the unwanted help.

He had been born with a genetic problem that made the bones in his legs brittle, a big disappointment for a father that had not only been a biker, but also had pushed his sons in the game as soon as they could walk.

So, part of you knew and understood Ivar’s bitterness and his desperate desire to prove his late father wrong, expanding his legacy.

You knew yourself how heavily a dynasty could hang on a child’s shoulder,

But this didn’t allow him to fucking destroy you to simply build yourself up.

You stood after him a few seconds later, seeing and witnessing his strength as he pushed himself on the braces and crutches he wore and trying to still your whole body so it wouldn’t tremble from rage once you got up.

You had to admit that Ivar was as beautiful as he was cunning and you weren’t surprised to know that the whole Lothbrock clan had admirers everywhere, having become a meme on the net, almost like a band with their own groupies.

He had beautiful tormented blue eyes, something that was common among the brothers, but his were definitely the most gorgeous, hauntingly active, unlike Ubbe’s matching glance, annoyed and tight, polite but in no way as firey as Ivar.

You would have loved to have him as a competitor.

But not this way.

And this was enough for you to raise yourself, as you strutted out, having a pilot to inform and a few interesting things to say to the journalists, who had already started filling your own stand.

But before you could do anything, Ivar’s hand shot out to you, hooking itself on your wrist, something that made you turn around extremely fast, hitting the man on the hand which held your hand, the grip loosening itself as he made a few steps backwards.

Probably because you looked like you could have burned him alive, on the spot.

“… I just…” whatever evil thing he wanted to say seemed stuck on his tongue.

“I have a pilot to inform” you muttered immediately, as you exited his grip and moved to turn around, just to have a brilliant idea and turning around for the last word.

Because he might have won the battle...

… but he hadn’t won the war yet.

“I fucking work with my team, instead of using dirty tricks for my own bidding”.

You had many times accused Ivar of using ‘dirty tricks’, but everytime it had been concealed between nice and soft words, the ones you used with the press, avoiding cursing and smirking the whole time  to make the accusals seem more a joke.

You almost expected Ivar to reply something mean as you exited the building, but he simply looked like he had lost any ability to talk, his brother behind him having to shake him lightly to get him to react and right when he opened his mouth again to speak, you were gone.

It was better not to waste your words on a crook.

The news of your pilot being dropped from second to third place had been the scandal of the whole following week, which you had spent in a small island in Greece to relax a bit, you had come back home to journalists storming your house.

‘I can’t make any comments’ because you had been warned not to, since a second investigation was in place, although Christian, your first pilot, had had to already give back the trophy already ‘… we’ll see and I am hopeful that the right choices will be made’.

Which meant that you hoped the Lothbrock would push back the appeal.

They had also been stormed with journalists and attack.

Although the FIM inspector hadn’t had much interest for your version, the media had been actually very interested in hearing your own side of the story, alongside the fact that the audience cheered for your squad since it was ‘a true underdog story’.

You had built a team from scratch after years of failures and you were swiftly raising to the Olympus of bikes.

Ivar’s reply had been the same of yours, just shorter and colder, and the Lothbrocks had chosen to make him disappear from the latest posts on their social medias, instead pushing forwards his brother, who had been scoring a lot of points in the latest race, although the satellite team was much slower than the official squad.

But it was a win.

And it had made you regain the strength to face Ivar again the following week.

But you had had another big storm coming for you.

Your own father.

You had a complex relationship to your father: you obviously loved him, but you knew the feelings weren’t reciprocated

Your father hadn’t ever made you miss anything, except love.

You knew it could be worse, but to this day you found it difficult to face your father.

Even more when it happened in front of your mortal enemy.

Your father had been already in the stables when you had arrived, after releasing an official message about the sanction you had been undergoing for the last race’s ending.

He had been talking with your engineers, as you entered, everybody looking as uncomfortable as you, exchanging small talk with the man, although he immediately pushed for more information on the technical side of stuff.

Your pilots looked bewildered and with an annoyed smirk you simply tried to catch your father’s attention, to bring him away from the garage, this way the engineers could work in peace.

But you didn’t arrive halfway through the box that he was already vocally attacking you.

“Where the fuck are Trenner and Lobon?” asked your father, as you grimaced.

“… you have actually fired them two years ago” you muttered.

Your father’s heart problems hadn’t been the only reason why it had been suggested to him to slow down, but he had started showing signs of dementia.

He had forgotten your name the day you had come to visit him in the hospital and even worse, he had asked the names of pilots that had been in your stables, years ago.

“… I shouldn’t have…” he looked shocked as he always did when you revealed to him that he had forgotten something, which you did graciously, having discussed with his doctor about the trauma that acting like that might cause him “… do you think they are still on the market?”.

“They are retired, dad” again, calm tone and sweet words “… but what are you doing here? You should be at home, relaxing”.

“I heard the shit the Lothbrock threw on us” Gosh, you should have told his nurse to stop letting him see TV, even more the sport section “… what the fuck have you been doing in my stables?”.

His disappointment hung heavily on you and it stole your breath for a minute, but you regained your coolness immediately.

“I have been trying to do my best and we have reached new heights” again your tone was attentive and careful, slow and peaceful, but the end of it had an exasperated note and your father sent you an annoyed look.

He was clearly thinking that you were an undisciplined child.

Not that the undisciplined child was actually him.

“… the Lothbrocks have been playing dirty” you said it with your voice on low, since the garage next to you were the Lothbrocks’ ones, and you knew that many eyes were set on you “… I have the medias on my side, don’t worry dad”.

“Instead I fucking worry!” now the attention was definitely on you.

And with the side of your eye you noticed that Ivar was coming up right now, an earpiece in his hands showing that he hadn’t been aware of the convo till right now.

You tried to usher your father, lightly pushing him away to try to bring him away from all this attention.

“Too much of anything, you never know how to quit” uttered your father loudly, again, but he lost the second part of the discourse, lightly, his eyes shifting on Ivar who was suddenly close to you, probably trying to get pass the crowd of journalists.

Stealing a bit more of info and trying to pass unnoticed.

But your father’s eyes caught onto him quickly.

Changing completely attitude as he approached the man.

Although now you couldn’t deny that Ivar now, up closer, and under your father’s watchful gaze looked much younger than you had perceived him.

And definitely blushier.

“Lothbrock, fuck you are grown” commented your father, as you gently tried to catch his hand, playing the devout daughter’s part, as you tried to get him to shift away from Ivar.

Nobody knew about your father’s dementia and you tried to keep it away from the flashes of paparazzi, since it’d get many investors to back off and you needed them for at least this season.

Then had you proved your worth, you could have handled your father’s dementia publicly.

“… Mr (L/N)” Ivar called out to your father, smiling brightly although it was obvious he’d like to continue his trip “… it’s nice to see you again, we thought about you…”.

“Don’t bullshit me, boy” you hated your father’s presence, but you had to admit that seeing Ivar back off from his usual arrogant attitude was a bonus “… I know you fucking took advantage of it, but I am back to fucking stay”.

You stopped yourself from rushing your eyes to sky because if there was one place your father would go to immediately after this conversation, would be the medical center.

His heart was still weak, and he would just bother the mechanics.

And his demeaning behavior made you extremely uncomfortable.

You hadn’t had to take on his stables, after his sickness had made it impossible for him to handle it firsthand.

You had accepted because you thought it’d make him happy and proud of you.

But now his disappointment was heavy on you.

You weren’t certainly the best, but it had been years since the team had been stuck in the midfield and you were slowly bringing yourself to exit it, coming towards the fourth and third place.

If you couldn’t obtain his appreciation and respect through doing this, there wasn’t much you could do.

“… tell your father… tell Ragnar, that we are coming for the podium this time” your eyes opened completely, and you couldn’t deny that your hands started shaking, at your father’s obvious show of his lacking health.

You rushed to try to cover his phrase, but Ivar smiled softly at the man, something that you had to admit didn’t make him look like some kind of dangerous snake anymore and you smirked softly at that, returning the smile, with no intention to.

“… I’ll tell him, but we won’t let it go that easily” his voice was full of playful competition and you wondered where the heck was this guy when you were fighting for the podium, instead of the spiteful athlete you had been meeting constantly “… have a nice day, Mr. (L/N) and (Y/N)”.

And then he moved off, making you aware that he hadn’t ever said your name, till now.

And it sounded strangely so beautifully from his lips.

“That fucking wanker” commented your father as he went away, right as you remembered the assholish behavior he had always had with you.

And that now he knew about your father.

Shit.

Fucking shit.

You had been basically just laying face down on your hotel bed since you had come back.

Your father had been actually joined by his nurse, after you had found him in the paddock, and they’d be staying just for the qualifying set-ups and then see the game from home, since you didn’t want to have to worry about him and the pilots, at the same time.

He had actually gotten to know them and being surrounded by the whole atmosphere had helped calm him down, alongside his nurse knowing how to deal with him.

The entire situation still managed to make you worry, but you had been able to focus on FP1 and FP2.

FP3 and qualifying looked like they’d be stressing, but you had just received the news that the problematic of the previous race had been resolved with a win for you, and soon your pilot would be having back his trophy, and your team would regain the point.

You were officially back on top of the Lothbrocks.

And strangely you hadn’t heard anything from them.

Which was worrying.

Even more now that Ivar had officially witnessed your father’s conditions.

You were already expecting a sanction of having made him come in the garage although he wasn’t on the list of the people allowed inside of it.

So, you were just waiting and trying to ease all the anxiety in your body.

There were so many things that could go wrong.

So, you weren’t surprised when you heard a knocking on the door.

You were surprised when it turned out to be Ivar Lothbrock.

Your first reaction was to almost slam the door, but you held it quickly, knowing perfectly that there were many journalists in the same hotel and it was already scandalous that your open rival was visiting you.

Outside of the paddock.

“What do you want?” it wasn’t laced with annoyance but genuine curiousness, because you couldn’t find many reasons why Ivar would be here.

If he wanted to complain about the fact that you had gained the upper hand in the investigation, he could have reported it to the FIM, not to you.

“… were all the FIM investigators finished?” you muttered, now true sarcasm in your eyes “… and they decided to send you for some fucking idiotic claim, again”.

“I actually came here to apologize” the words seemed to burn on his tongue.

And you were again startled by the fact that he had just done something that you never thought you’d see him doing.

“… what?” you asked, sure of not having heard right.

“I didn’t realize that my behavior towards you was this offensive…” you didn’t understand the change of heart, hence you regarded Ivar as a dangerous beast ready to eat you up, had you lowered your attention “… I might have exaggerated”.

“Erase the ‘might’ “you weren’t able to stop yourself from the pure sarcasm in your reply.

“I have exaggerated my competitiveness against you”.

You didn’t honestly know what to say, simply settling up on torturing your bottom lip, as you bit it to try to keep your face in a calm expression, although you didn’t know whether you should be careful with what you said, assuming this was some kind of proof.

Or you should have just laughed at his face.

Either ways seemed very tempting.

“… I just came here to apologize” he repeated shooting you a look as if to understand your expression, probably because he expected it to be some kind of relief.

You blessing him with accepting his apologies.

“I don’t care” it was the words that you found more fitting for the entire thing “… I can’t even believe you”.

Ivar looked, in that moment, like he might have eaten the sourest of fruits that he was ever given, and he lightly bit off his own bottom lip, before lightly swiping his finger across it and nodding his head.

“… I understand it” he didn’t seem to, but you didn’t say anything more “… I just thought that I’d try my luck”.

“… and I hope that you won’t say anything about my father” you knew that uttering out what you just said might have been dangerous but Ivar looked like he was under a train because you hadn’t accepted his apologies.

“Don’t worry, in the slightest” he replied, raising his hand in front of himself “… I don’t mean to tell anybody”.

Which reassured you greatly, although you didn’t trust Ivar fully.

And you were halfway through pushing the door in his face, when he continued on talking.

“… I actually…” he looked as uncomfortable as you, but strangely you couldn’t bring yourself to close the door in his face.

It must have been because of those puppy dog blue eyes.

“… when did it start?”.

“The heart problems started it” the doctors had also explained to you that your father had been undergoing a rather stressful period that had brought both the problems to speed up during the years, eventually destroying both his heart and mind.

“Shit” muttered Ivar, and you honestly didn’t understand why he wanted to talk about this.

Was he seriously thinking of gaining as much info as he could and then sell you over to the medias?

Because it would have just resulted in a loss for him.

“… yeah, we are in big shit” you repeated “… I am trying to keep it hidden from the investors, since I know they wouldn’t trust my lead”.

Again, that light bite of lips and Ivar lowered his eyes to his feet, something that convinced you that maybe just maybe… he was hiding his own emotions.

“… when my dad died, the investors all left us and went to Lagertha’s side, we almost had to sell it to her” commented Ivar and you couldn’t help but be surprised, because the Lothbrocks had always been one of the best stables, both for the money and for the pilots.

You did know that Lagertha’s stables, ‘The Shieldmaiden’, their rivals,  had been having quite the fight with the Lothbrocks, but you hadn’t ever thought it was rooted that far.

And this time you weren’t able to keep your face straight and Ivar probably recognized the surprise on your face.

“… it was all over the magazines”.

“I don’t read that shit” you had stopped since they had critiqued you.

You didn’t want to be held back by critiques or false information about your private life, in your work.

You had always grown up with the constant pressure of what others would say about you, because you were your father’s daughter and now that you had to come onto your own reputation, you would have done everything in your power to build it.

Instead of listening to what others created.

“I might have been wrong about you” commented Ivar, and you couldn’t deny that strangely it seemed almost like a compliment, on the mouth of the arrogant boy.

“Did you peg me for some kind of vain spoiled brat?” and strangely a smile came onto your face.

Becoming even bigger when Ivar blushed lightly.

“… I left out the ‘spoiled’ part out”.

You couldn’t stop the laugh on your lips.

“Well, I still think that you are an entitled asshole”.

“You are not the first one to think that for sure”.

And before you knew it you were both laughing loudly.

Enough to attract a few fellow guests of the hotel that sent you annoyed looks.

Something that made you move closer to hide yourself behind the door.

Although your exchange with Ivar was completely innocent, you knew that the press would have turned it all around.

“… I know this might be… I know that you might have better things to do than listen to an entitled prick…”.

“I said ‘asshole’ “ you shot back, as Ivar’s severe face turned into a smirk.

“… ok sorry… but would you like to come and take out a coffee? It’s on me for last Sunday’s dirty trick”.

You breathed out heavily.

Everything in you itched to reply a happy ‘yes’, but your whole body wanted for you to be attentive and to act in the best way possible.

Because what Ivar proposed might have been a dangerous trap.

But you were just exhausted from acting like you had a broom up your ass.

And you had to admit that you felt like Ivar probably felt the same.

He had clearly opened about the problematics after his father’s death.

And in case it was a coffee less to bother about.

“… I am coming but just know that my bed is very comfy, so if you are annoying… I’ll just ditch you for it”.

“Ok, you are definitely a spoiled brat”.

---

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[thewritewolf]

Two Cursed Detectives in Paris Chapter Three: Cats and Raccoons

Connor struggles under the weight of the secret and spends quality time with Adrien.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

The sun was only just starting to dip below the horizon, but you wouldn’t know it sitting inside Connor and Eerie’s hotel room. The black curtains were drawn shut and the lights turned out except for a bedside lamp. A crime show was playing on the television and Connor watched it with narrowed eyes. His attention was divided between the show, brushing his tail with a vintage silver brush, and worrying about his recent discovery.

“You figure out who the murderer is yet?”

Eerie glanced up from her book with pursed lips. “I’m trying to read here.”

“I saw you peeking at the TV. So what’s your guess, boss?”

“Well, boss,” she said as she closed the book. “It’s pretty obviously the old man at the lighthouse.”

“They aren’t even subtle about it.”

“Honestly. Amateurs.”

They fell silent again. Neither of them were particularly tired, but this was going to be their only chance to get some sleep before the stake out tonight.

But would he be able to get any rest if he didn’t get this off his chest? Eerie was the most dependable person he knew. If he couldn’t trust her of all people to share this secret with him, who could he trust? Deciding to put his faith in her, he started talking before he could chicken out.

“Hey, can I-”

“I need to-”

They cut each other off and Connor snorted while Eerie concealed her smirk behind one well-manicured hand. Maybe they’d gotten too in sync with each other.

He motioned to her. “Go ahead, Eerie. I can wait an extra minute or two.”

“Thanks.” She smiled gratefully before a serious expression settled over her face. “Do you know about the situation in Paris? With the superheroes and everything?”

“More than you might think,” Connor said, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I meet Ladybug.”

“Oh wow, that’s-”

“I know who Ladybug is,” Eerie added in a low voice, as if there were people listening in. Whatever reaction she was expecting, Connor busting out laughing didn’t seem to be among them. She pouted, her hair poofing out like an owl’s feathers as she got up to loom over him. “This is serious, Connor!” She smacked him with a pillow.

“Trust me, I know. After all, I found out who Chat Noir is, so I understand the kind of pressure you’re probably under”

“Oh, good.” After a moment’s processing, her eyes widened. “Wait, what?” She sat down on the edge of his bed.

The next half hour was spent catching each other up on their adventures earlier that day.

“I guess we’re better detectives than we thought, huh?”

“And that’s saying something, given how much you talk yourself up.” Eerie rolled her eyes with a smile. “God, this was a crazy day.”

“No argument from me.” Connor stretched, tiredness starting to creep up on him. “So what are we going to do about it?”

“What do you mean?” She got off his bed and walked toward hers. “Doesn’t sound like we need to get involved, does it?”

“Well… I was just thinking… Chat seems pretty fond of Ladybug…”

“Connor,” she said, her tone reminiscent of all the times she’d found him digging through dumpsters or rifling through trash cans. “We are here to catch bad guys. Not play matchmakers for two fifteen year olds.”

“But you have to admit that they’re cute together!”

“I’m not having this conversation.” She turned off the lamp. It was purely a symbolic gesture since they both had night vision.

“...Fine. Good night.”

“Night,” she said as she rolled over onto her stomach.

“Sleep tight.”

“Mhm,” she hummed into her pillow.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“Connor. Go to sleep.”

“You’re right. Nothing to worry about, really. This is Paris after all. It’d be the fanciest bed bugs of them all. You’d thank them for biting you.”

“Sleep. Now.” She did her best to put on the Boss Voice, but he could hear the undercurrent of amusement just below the words. He smiled contently as he rolled over to cuddle his banana body pillow.

“Sure, boss.”

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

Connor suppressed a yawn as he tried to focus on the game in front of him. The night was both incredibly brief because he got to spend it mostly goofing off with Eerie as they poked around for clues, but also unbearably long as night turned to morning.

His character was soundly thrashed, the irritation being just about the only thing getting through how fuzzy his brain was at the moment. Adrien turned toward him, a smug grin on his perfectly punchable model face.

The smirk vanished when he saw Connor’s expression, replaced by a look of concern. “You okay, Mr MacThomas? You seem a little, um… Tired.”

“You don’t need to sugar coat it, I know I’m not at my absolute most handsome today. I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night since I had to do some detectiving.” Explaining Connor’s real reason for being in Paris hadn’t taken that long. He stretched, reaching his hands high above his head and flexed his fingers. “Not all of us get to jump straight into the beating up bad guys part of the whole fighting for justice gig.”

“It’s hard to believe you’re here undercover…”

“What? Just because I’m cursed that means I’m somehow less qualified for stealthy missions?”

Adrien’s eyes widened and he raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Wh-what?! No, I didn’t-”

“Relax,” Connor said, punching Adrien’s arm. “I’m messing with you. And hey, it wasn’t easy coming to grips with you being a super- MMH!” Connor glared at Adrien as the latter covered his mouth with both hands.

“Sorry! Sorry. I just - can we talk about something else? It’s really weird talking about that with anyone but my kwami, especially here at home.” Once Connor nodded, Adrien returned to his side of the couch.

“Why don’t you tell me about your friends, then?”

“Well, I don’t have a whole lot of them…”

“Oh come on. You’re a sweet kid and not half bad at video games, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of folks beating down the door to be your bud.”

Adrien smiled. “Thanks. I guess you could say I’m friends with most of my classmates, but there are only three that I hang out with much.”

While Adrien was staring off into space thinking about those friends, Connor’s fingers inched ever so slowly toward the unopened bag of cheetos nearby. “Sounds like you really care about them. What are their names?”

“Well, my best bro is Nino. He was one of my very first real friends when I started public school. I couldn’t ask for a better friend - he even got akumatized because he got so mad for my sake once.”

“Uh huh,” Connor said, quietly opening the cheetos. He still wasn’t super clear on what akumatization meant, but it sounded bad. “Sounds like someone who always has your back.”

“Definitely. Although we don’t hang out as much as I’d like - I’ve got my schedule, and he has a girlfriend. Who is another of my friends, actually. Alya, she likes superheroes and journalism. It’s been… interesting being her friend while being Chat.”

“That leaves one person. Best for last or is this the one you aren’t as close with?”

Adrien smiled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “Kind of both? She’s absolutely amazing, but I think she mostly hangs out with me because she is Alya’s best friend. I wish we were closer.”

“Well, well, loverboy,” Connor said while nudging Adrien with his elbow. “It looks like you’ve got a crush. What’s the lucky girl’s name?”

“It’s not like that!” Adrien sounded a little exasperated, like he’d had this argument before. “She’s wonderful and cute and all that, but my heart belongs to Ladybug.” He sighed. “Marinette is just a good friend is all.”

Connor’s eyes bugged out and he sputtered in surprise, but with his mouth stuffed full of cheetos, he ended up doubled over into a coughing fit.

“Um… Mr MacThomas, are you okay?”

“Water,” Connor managed to croak out between coughs. In the minute that Adrien was gone, Connor’s mind whirred as it came to grips with this revelation. If he weren’t busy choking to death on snacks, he’d have laughed. What were the odds that they’d both go to the same school, let alone the same class?

Probably pretty good, now that he thought of it. They were probably picked by the same guy after all.

Adrien returned with the water and Connor eagerly gulped it down.

“Connor, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“Mr MacThomas is way too formal, kid. Just Connor is fine.”

“Okay… Connor.”

“Anyway, I think we were talking about your future girlfriend, Marinette.”

Adrien sighed patiently. “I told you, I’m in love with-”

“Ladybug, yeah, got that part. But you realize you can have a crush on multiple people, right?” True, just not in this case. “Just because you have feelings for the Bug doesn’t mean you can’t feel something for Marinette.” Adrien seemed about to say something, but Connor covered his mouth with his hand. “And I notice you didn’t deny having feelings for this Marinette girl.”

Whatever Adrien was trying to say was muffled by Connor’s hand over his face. His attempts to pull it off were to no avail.

“Yes, yes, I know you are madly in love with her, it’s very obvious. But we have to stay on track.” Connor felt something wet on his palm and raised an eyebrow. “Wow, you really are an only child.” At Adrien’s confused look, he added, “I’ve got a bunch of brothers and sisters - this is far from the only time this exact thing has happened.” Connor leaned back, letting Adrien’s face go free and wiped the spit off his glove onto the couch.

“I’m not in love with Marinette.” When Connor scoffed loudly, he folded his arms and pouted. “What? I’m not!”

“Really?” Connor smirked and settled into a relaxed slouch. “You care about her a lot, right?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“Do you look for excuses to be closer to her?”

“Of course! She’s my friend-”

“Uh-huh. And how often do you think about hugging this ‘friend’ or wanting to hold her hand? And remember,” Connor added, waggling his finger in front of Adrien’s face. “You might be able to lie to yourself, but I get paid the big bucks to know when you’re not telling the truth.”

He was quiet for a few long heart beats. “So… you’re saying… that’s not normal for friendships?”

“Not usually, no.” Connor ignored the treacherous part of his mind that was thinking of Eerie. “I’ve seen a lot of cases of love sickness in my time and buddy, let me tell you - you’ve got it bad.”

“How bad is it?” Adrien squirmed worriedly in his spot.

“Bad.” Connor scooted closer and put an arm around his shoulders. “But hey! Don’t worry, I’m here to help.”

Adrien eyes widened and he stared at Connor as if he had all the answers in the world. “Really? You must have tons of romantic experience, right?”

Connor flashed back to his last romantic experience, a kiss in middle school from before he was cursed.

“Absolutely.”

[amec0617-wips]

WIP 1 Chapter 3

The rest of the school year had went about as much as Paul had planned. He kept acing his tests and getting good marks and James kept getting the school team some wins. They had decided to change schools next year in a decision that would change their lives forever. They had already told their parents and friends, and they were not shocked by the news at all. The results of their choosings were so unique that passing up on this opportunity would basically be the same as throwing diamonds in the trash. Tension filled Paul as the year went by as he kept background checking schools with Defense Training Programs and figuring out how to enter them. All he could find was that you need to submit an application letter, but the process after that was completely classified. He and James filed sent their letters to almost every top school as soon as they could and to the surprise of no one, almost instantly got the reply. Their gift was enough to convince every top school to accept them so the only factor in their future would be their decision. Paul had found out that the top school in New York would be the New York State University for Defense which accepts applicants from all around the world but prioritizes those that are residents of New York. Their letter had said to go to The Empire State Building by 12:00 pm on June 17, 2019. On the said date, Paul was very nervous about what lies ahead and this is when he realized that it had been years since he was last nervous.

"Hey." his brother James called his attention at the sight of his uneasiness. "It's gonna be fine. Your gift and brain are going to be enough to get in the school and dominate. Besides, you got my muscles too." said James before he chuckled.

Not long after, they were in the front of The Empire State Building. Paul had admired it before for its Engineering but now it seems like he could dread nothing more than this building. Around 30 students had gathered with them in the hopes of getting in the school too. Paul checked his watch and just as it hit 12:00 pm, a sharp whistle went through the air. He looked ahead of the crowd to see a big guy about in his mid-30's standing in front of them, along with a lady who also looked in her mid-30's.

"Listen up, I'm Mr. Kenneth O' Bryan. You all are gonna call me Coach K, got it? I'm in charge of leading you to our facilities in the fastest and most grueling way possible. You're free to use your gifts as a means of safety, faster transportation, or just getting by boredom. The lovely woman beside me is my wife Mrs. Lizzie O' Bryan. She is in charge of your statistics. She keeps tabs on you in the aspects I don't see, things like how much energy you use, how much energy you waste, how much fatigue can you endure, and of course, the most important part, how fast you finished with respect to the others around you. We will be your advisers for the year if you manage to be eligible for our school. You guys are the first batch and are the most qualified, every year around 29/30 in the first batch are eligible which leaves only 1 luck fellow from the later batch to enter Class A. Now, I hope you are all comfortable with what you're wearing because you're gonna be running a lot today. Your directions are simple, go 100 blocks east, turn right and stay on that path for 25 block another right would put you west so do that and go straight for 100 blocks, lastly you turn right and straight 25 blocks. You will end up back here and there will be hidden cameras following you so don't think of hurting others on your way to #1. This will be your 1st Test for today and it is a test of speed. You start when my clock hits 12:15 pm and I blow the whistle. Best of luck to everyone."

Paul had 5 minutes left to prepare but he knew he had a disadvantage. The people around him probably know how to use their gifts, and he didn't. He never spent any time practicing it, something which he deeply regretted it. He was so anxious and worried that it made him all fidgety. A boy with black hair and pale skin had noyiced Paul and decided to approach and talk to him.

"Hey are you okay? I'm France by the way." said the boy.

"What? Hi, my name's Paul and I'm fine. Did something seem wrong?"

"About the test? No. About you? A lot. Are you worried or something?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks though, I'll see you later."

"Okay I'll see you later too I guess."

Paul had never liked to ask others for help and it doesn't seem like anything was going to break that.

"Hey Big Brain." James had apparently approached Paul after France left. "We're in real trouble huh?"

"How'd u know?"

"You seemed uneasy, and you have never seemed uneasy. So what's the status?"

"I've noticed that the others know how to use their gifts and we don't. We're at a real disadvantage and at a real shot of going home."

"Huh? That doesn't seem like a problem to me."

"What do you mean that's not a problem? I thought you wanted to go to Defense Training?"

"Yeah, and I will. We will 100% make it through here and won't go home empty-handed."

James' words brightened Paul's mood up and made him less worried. He scoffed and said "You know you're right. We will make it. What have I been worrying myself about?" and laughed. James found it weird but laughed along. After a few seconds, Coach K started yelling a countdown.

"5"

Every students' face suddenly panicked and they started running and finding a starting form.

"4"

People were stretching and jiggling all around in an attempt to break free of stress and anxiety.

"3"

Adrenaline coursed through Paul's body as his brother tapped his back. He could notice James was excited about it too.

"2"

People's hands started flickering. They seemed to be getting ready to use their gifts. Someone's eye turned blue and someome started posing like he was about to go number 2.

"1"

Everyone was ready for what they were about to hear next. But totally unprepared for what they see next.

"0"

A sharp whistle blew and people started using gifts almost instantly. Paul saw what seemed to be France just disappear and left a cloud of dark smole behind. Some people suddenly flew with wings or ran with nearly the speed of sound or massibe jumps that measured about 1 and ½ blocks.

Paul didn't stop running no matter what and he could see in front of him that his brother was doing the same. They were 100% dead last as everyone was already by the 3rd to 5th block and they were just halfway through their first. James started running faster and that's when the unthinkable happened. He accidentally and unknowingly used his gift to create a wall from the ground and it rose with every step he took. Eventually he was at least 2 stories high and the wall never connected to the ground but it disassembled from behind and reassembled in front of him and it made for a quick route. James had gained speed and left his brother behind as he reached the 3rd block and the others were at the 7th. Paul was already ¾ of the way done through his second block when he muttered to himself "Damn I wish mine worked too." He decided to take a break at the end of the 2nd block as he couldn't take it any longer. He sat down on the pavement and then a familiar voice spoke to him.

"Too tired already?" It was Coach K. "Aren't you the one who got the best elemental? I had high hopes for you."

"Well I didn't really have time to train." Paul replied with all the strength left in his body as he catched his breath.

"Stop making excuses and start putting in work kid. We're gonna rely on you someday." said Coach K before he left.

Paul decided to take a rest and ponder for a few minutes about what Coach K had said.

[scouts-mockingbird]

39 with a putv ship of your choosing :p

This got really long and it’s completely unedited but I like it. Chris D and Mazz deserve an origin story. 

39. “I think we really need to talk about what happened last night,”

“Hey, Mazz, um, I think… I think we need to talk about what happened last night.”

Mazz had, in his time on earth, made some rather poorly thought out decisions, some of which might even qualify as mistakes, but he prided himself on not being the kind of person who forgot the stupid shit he did, so when he looked at Chris and replied, “Huh?” He really meant that he had no idea what was going on.

Last night, as far as he knew, Paige had introduced him to Chris at the bonfire, and they had talked and flirted. It hadn’t gone further than that, though certain thoughts had crossed Mazz’s mind.

Chris flushed, looking like a deer caught in headlights, or like Mark when a teacher called on him in class. Also like Mark, Chris struggled for words for a second, then ducked his head. “Sorry. My mistake.” He turned and hurried down the hall into the crowd.

Mazz thought about calling after him, but he was already too far away for there to be much of a point. He attempted to shrug it off, but something about the exchange lingered, remaining with him for the rest of the school day while he spaced out in his classes.

He caught up with Mark on the way out of the building, in his usual rush to get as far away from school as possible in the least amount of time.

“Mark, buddy, hold up!” He reached out, but caught himself before he grabbed onto Mark’s sleeve; unexpected touching wasn’t something Mark liked. “This is going to be a weird question.”

“When isn’t it with you?” Mark asked, turning down the alley that would take him to Main Street and the post office.

“Did anything weird happen last night?”

Mark frowned. “I don’t know, weren’t you there?”

“Yeah, but that guy, Chris, came up to me and said he wanted to talk about what happened, but I have no fucking clue what happened, or what he wanted to talk about.”

“With Paige’s friend?” Mark shrugged. “I didn’t notice. You talked a lot, but that’s not weird. You always talk a lot.”

“Do you think I talk too much?” Mazz asked, momentarily distracted. “Wait, nevermind. Is that all you remember?”

“Yeah. Hang on I have to get my letters.”

Technically speaking, they were Harry’s letters, or that’s what the people who sent them thought. People like Mazz’s friend and crush, Confused, who he’d been talking to on the phone for a couple weeks now, starting not long after he’d found out that Mark and Harry were one and the same.

“Three today, that’ll be enough to keep the show going,” Mark said, “I didn’t have much to say tonight.”

That usually meant Mark’s day had been relatively good.

Mazz looked at the letter on the top. “How come that one’s fucked?”

Mark shrugged. “I don’t pay enough for them to take good care of the letters.”

It had been crumpled up and folded awkwardly, as if it had been forced into the narrow mailbox slit the wrong way. The address was scrawled across it, but there was no stamp.

“Can I read it?”

“Nah, I’ll save them for tonight. Are you going to come by after the show?”

Mazz smiled. “I’ll be there.”

“Let me know how it goes at the field.”

Hours later, Mazz was listening to Harry talk about their shit school, only half paying attention. The other half scanned the crowd, searching. Are you here Confused?

“This last letter is from a repeat offender,” Harry said, and Mazz looked at his car radio, as though that might make him talk any faster. “Dear Harry, remember me? I’m Confused. You gave my number to a friend of yours, and we’ve been talking for a few weeks. I liked him a lot, but I didn’t know who he was.”

Mazz was holding his breath, leaning into the radio like his life depended on it.

“I met him last night,” Harry said, still reading aloud from the letter. “I met your friend, and we talked, and it was just like being on the phone, but I could see his face and he was right there!” Harry stopped reading. “Folks, I think it’s important that you know that he underlined that.”

“Get on with it!” Mazz muttered, and he thought about driving to Mark’s house to take the letter from his hands, but he didn’t want to lose the signal on the way.

“I met him, but then today, after we’d talked practically all night, he acted like he didn’t recognize me at school, but I’m sure he knew. Why would he do that? Yours, Confused.”

Now Mazz did start the car, because he realized what an idiot he’d been, because everything made perfect sense.

He screeched to a halt in front of Mark’s house, leaping out of the car and over the wall into the back yard where he nearly ran directly into the glass door leading into Mark’s room.

He waved his hands frantically, and Mark looked up, slightly panicked. He covered the microphone. “What?”

“Tell him to… tell him to meet me where we were last night!”

Mark sighed and nodded. “Well, I just heard from my friend, Confused, and he really wants to talk to you. Meet him where you saw him last night if you want to hear him out.”

As soon as he’d heard the words, Mazz went back to his car and drove away, out into the desert until he’d gotten to the old campsite where they’d had their fire the night before.

It was cold enough to justify the many layers Mazz usually wore and he was grateful for his jacket as he settled in to wait.

It felt like hours went by as he sat in silence, too far from Mark’s house to get the signal for his show.

When he eventually heard the sound of tires crunching over old sand, he jumped out of his car, hitting his head on the door frame just in time to see Chris riding his bike into the campsite.

“You came!” Mazz said, long before his brain had caught up with him.

“What happened?” Chris asked, his eyes darted around as though he expected someone to pop out of the scruffy desert bushes any second. “This morning you acted like you didn’t know me.”

“I didn’t!” Mazz insisted, “Well, what I mean is, I didn’t know you were, you know, you. Confused. I thought you were Chris.”

“But last night…”

“I didn’t know last night!”

“How… We talked for ages, you didn’t recognize my voice?”

“You recognized mine? Mazz asked, feeling oddly warm, despite the cool breeze.

“Immediately.”

“Wow. I’m… Well I told you I’m kind of an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Chris answered. “I just… I thought you were embarrassed or something.”

“Me?” Mazz asked, gesturing to his outfit and his hair and trying to encompass everything about his existence with one word. “I have never felt shame in my life.”

“Oh.” Chris glanced at the ground. “So…”

“I like you too,” Mazz blurted. “Just, you know, in case you were wondering.”

“Right…” Chris hesitated. “So… what now?”

Mazz didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t the kind of person who made plans, or thought about things before he did them. So he relied on old habits and didn’t let himself think before he stepped closer to Chris and leaned in, stopping just before he kissed him.

You’re supposed to ask, right? He thought, hesitating for a fraction of a second. “Is this–”

Chris closed the space between them, drawing Mazz in with a hand on his neck.

The broke apart after a moment of awkward, fumbling perfection, blushing and a little breathless.

They made eye contact and laughed, both looking away.

“That was–”

“So how–”

Mazz paused. “You first.”

“Um… What now?”

A glance at his watch told him that they had probably missed the end of the broadcast. “We could… Do you know anything about stars?”

Chris looked momentarily flummoxed. “A… A little I guess. I know like… why they’re called what they’re called and stuff.”

“Perfect,” Mazz said. “Let’s stay here for a while and you can tell me about stars.” Now that he knew whose it was, he wanted to listen to that voice for a little longer.

[sylvaniaschoolofmagic]

The Pickup Game

[Now that its wintertime, Sonic doesn’t have flying lessons anymore. He still wants to fly, though...]

If there was one thing Sonic couldn’t get enough of at Sylvania, it was Quidditch. He watched every match with gusto, even ones where Gryffindor wasn’t playing, just eager to see the high-flying, fast-paced action. Sometimes, when he was in the Gryffindor common room and avoiding his homework, he would look out the window to see the Quidditch pitch in the distance, and he would watch the Gryffindor team practice and run drills. By the end of the first semester, the hedgehog had a minor obsession with the sport. It wasn’t exactly hard to blame him; he loved the speed and the high stakes, and flying was about the only form of magic he had showed any sort of natural talent in. He would love to play, even casually, if he were given the chance.

But alas, flying lessons ended after the first semester, and the school’s brooms were all kept under tight lock and key. For an individual student to use one, they had to have a legitimate reason to need it, and they had to get a permission slip signed. Apparently some pranksters in the past had abused their broom privileges, so nowadays they were harder to get your hands on as a result. Too hard for Sonic’s tastes. He didn’t think that ‘practice and fun’ qualified as legitimate reasons to need a broom, so he was sort of out of luck in that department. And even if he had the money to spend on his own broom, first years weren’t allowed to have their own brooms on campus, which was just seven different layers of bogus.

So, to sate his Quidditch itch, he watched a lot of the house team practices from afar. It was cold out, but the snow had mostly melted, so he could be outside at night without it being unbearable. He had a tree picked out on the campus grounds that provided a good view of the pitch, without being close enough that he would get caught and be accused of spying (he wasn’t, but if the Gryffindor team captain ever wanted to know what plays the Slytherins practiced, he probably could’ve told them). It wasn’t his favorite tree, definitely not the comfiest in the world, but it was one of the best seats in the house. It was also high up enough that it was hard for other, less nimble students to reach, so Sonic never had to be concerned about someone finding him and intruding on his space.

At least, until Rouge found him and flew right up to the branch he was perched on without a problem.

Sonic was sent into a wild scramble, clinging to the thick branch as Rouge landed noiselessly next to him. She sat down daintily, legs crossed and her hands resting on the branch to help her balance. Sonic, next to her, was lying on his stomach, arms and legs wrapped around the branch in a deathgrip.

“Rouge! Don’t just sneak up on a guy like that!” the hedgehog hissed, his too-big quills puffed up from surprise, making the rest of him just look even smaller.

“Sorry, I’ll knock next time I see you brooding in a tree,” she hummed, seemingly not caring that much that she spooked him. Sonic had realized that she could be fairly sneaky when she wanted to, so it was possible that she was used to this.

“Brooding? Who do I look like, Shadow?” Sonic scoffed. “Nah. I’m watchin’ the Ravenclaw team practice.” He pushed himself back up so he had a better view, now straddling the tree branch instead of hugging it with his whole body.

“... You’re a Gryffindor though. You that desperate for something to do, or…?”

“Nope. Just like Quidditch,” the hedgehog shrugged.

Rouge hummed again, and crossed her legs the other way, seemingly in thought. She followed his gaze, looking out at the Quidditch pitch. It was a nice sight, the long shadows from the just-starting-to-set sun falling across the pitch and all the players. They were all flying in formation, passing the quaffle back and forth between them at random intervals.

“It’s a great sport,” she said after a few moments of deliberation, and Sonic could just hear the smile in her voice. “You thinking of trying out next year?”

The hedgehog sighed, his quills deflating. “I’d love to, but… I don’t think I’d do all that great. I’ve never played, and I know a bunch of the wizard-born kids here grew up playing and watching it. I mean, I’ll still probably try out anyway, but... “

“Your hopes aren’t too high,” Rouge finished for him.

“Pretty much.”

“Hmm… How good are you at flying?” She turned her head to look at him, and Sonic glanced back at her, trying to keep one eye on her and one on the Quidditch pitch.

“Flying’s the one thing I can do without screwing it up. I’m one of the best in my class.”

“Ooh, very nice.” She looked down below them, checking to make sure no one else was approaching the tree before she spoke again. “You should come to the Quidditch pitch tomorrow night, around one in the morning. Join our pickup game.”

Sonic nodded before his brain could even fully process the statement. He had a bad habit of just agreeing, especially when he heard the word “Quidditch,” so when Rouge started talking again he had to play mental catch-up.

“--just me and a couple other kids, we generally try and keep them small since we have to sneak out at night for it. But that shouldn’t be a problem for you, right?” Rouge asked, and her pause while waiting for an answer let Sonic grab on to what she was talking about.

“... Pick-up game? So we all just play for fun? But what about getting the brooms and the balls and stuff?”

Rouge winked then, her wings stretching out as she got ready to go back down to the ground. “You let us worry about that. You just show up, Mr. Future Quidditch Star.” She slid off the tree branch and landed softly on the grass below. “Be there or be square!”

“Is that still a thing people say?” Sonic called down to her.

“Shut up! I’ll see you tomorrow!” she yelled back, giving a short wave as she walked away, winter cloak billowing behind her as she headed back up towards the castle.

Sonic waved, even though she was turned away from him. Well, now he had something to do tomorrow night, even if it was at an insanely late hour, at least for him. He was eleven. He could count the number of times he’d stayed up til midnight (excluding New Years) on one hand. But… Quidditch. And he had a lot of homework to do, with plenty of transfiguration to practice and inevitably fail at. But… Quidditch.

Okay, he’d go to check it out. And maybe to ride a broom around for a little bit, to get a feel for it again. Maybe throw the quaffle back and forth with someone just for a minute… Potentially try his hand at seeking…. Okay, maybe not seeking because this was going to be late at night, but he could definitely try beating. Just for a bit though! He needed to sleep! He’d just play a little bit, and then go to sleep.

…

Alright so long story short, he played Quidditch all night and went to class completely dead on his feet the next morning. He’d had almost no trouble sneaking out, running before anyone could even see him, and he had made his way to the Quidditch pitch with no trouble. There he found Rouge, who greeted him, Scout, who was in the process of breaking into the Quidditch shed, and a couple other kids who he’d seen around but didn’t really know. Once the brooms and balls were retrieved (Sonic asked Scout how she broke into the highly secured Quidditch shed, and she responded, “I’m a magic ninja, of course I can break into a shed”), they all split up into teams and started flying. They all had Lumos charms on while they flew, so they could make out where they all were, and one of the older students managed to put a spell on the balls so they glowed too. Sonic was the seeker on Rouge’s team, and maybe it was because the snitch was faintly glowing, but he did a pretty good job at finding it, he thought. He didn’t manage to catch it in time, but he saw it before the other team’s seeker, which still made him feel pretty good. The cold air dragged on his broom a bit more than he was used to, and the other seeker was a fourth year with more practice than him.

The game only lasted about a half hour, so after they finished, they hung around on their brooms and tossed the quaffle back and forth. They were close enough together that they could all talk, and most of them seemed to know each other, so conversation about the house Quidditch teams eventually started. Sonic, tired and surrounded by kids he didn’t know too well, listened more than participated in the conversation at first. He commented whenever Scout and Rouge talked, nodding along and building off their ideas. After a bit, he picked up the names of the other kids-- most of which he couldn’t remember by the next morning, but he could ask Rouge later-- and started opening up a little more. He was the only first year muggleborn there, so he wound up having plenty of Quidditch questions, mostly about obscure rules, different plays and maneuvers, and professional teams. There was a lot he had learned just from watching other people play, but apparently there was a lot more to the sport that he hadn’t gotten yet.

“Do you know how many weird rules are in Quidditch? Too many,” he mumbled to Knuckles at breakfast the next morning, as he poured milk into his glass and orange juice into his bowl of cereal. “There’s a rule against releasing 100 vampire bats from your robe. Specifically 100. I can’t even begin to describe how stupid that is.”

“You don’t have to describe it. That sounds pretty stupid,” Knuckles said in that blunt Knuckles way of his. “You know, there’s also a school rule about sleeping in class. How do you plan on--” He gave Sonic a gentle slap to get him to open his eyes and lift up his head, which had started to droop-- “How do you plan on staying awake?”

“Grit. Determination. Coffee.” The hedgehog reached across the table to the pot of coffee, usually only touched by the sixth and seventh years, and poured a hefty portion into his already-almost-full glass of milk. Knuckles shook his head, got up, and left the table. It was too early for this nonsense.

[elsa-of-arrendelle]

Dear Nonny,

So, in response to an anon who somehow magically took offense to my last post, this is my answer. Didn’t post the actual “ask” cause I avoid having swearing on this blog whenever possible.

Yeah, no one has to justify their ships to me. I was hoping some Sabriel shippers would talk to me about why they ship so I could better understand (Shippers tend to love talking about why they ship something) but I got you trying to make me feel guilty or wrong instead for some reason. I’m not sure how long you’ve been in the fandom if you were unaware of some of the blowouts in SPN fandom history over Destiel, but here you go and this is going to be long.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKnf_c27T4g

^^ Here’s the big one that people freaked out over and called Jensen homophobic for (cause pointing out that a ship is fan-made means you’re insulting gay people now). And even though he’s given the same response to these questions, people keep asking and getting upset because HE’S ACTUALLY REFUSING TO QUEERBAIT/GIVE FALSE HOPE WHEN FANS DEMAND IT. 

https://youtu.be/tACYrKGx_MA?t=554

Start here to 11:23 ^^^  It’s about Sam and Dean. Jensen doesn’t say it’s about Castiel, doesn’t even mention Castiel because the show is about brothers and family and doing what’s right no matter the odds. This is followed shortly by him shutting down a “Destiel or Cas/Dean” question succinctly and with no room for rational misinterpretation to his feelings on the subject.

As for the “Underbear” incident, for me, that’s a matter of consent. Jensen acted of his own accord to be goofy with a friend who didn’t believe he had weird underwear on that day. Writers making Destiel canon when Jensen has expressed on and off screen that Dean doesn’t feel that way about Castiel would be contractually obligating him to support a Fannon ship that he doesn’t feel his character would be comfortable with. For the role in Blonde (since that’s the only queer role I’ve encountered with him), his character was based off a real person who truly had that preference and he accepted that as part of his role. Making Destiel canon now would alter the character to a new preference when he’s been portrayed for years as a heterosexual man. 

I ask you, on this point, if a straight ship centered on a straight character and a strictly gay or lesbian character became popular, would you demand that their sexuality be changed to support the most popular ship? If you can’t say yes to this, then what you really care about is gay representation over the actual storyline. And even then? How much love and support was given to Charlie? What about freaking Chuck being portrayed as Bi? How much love is given to any openly gay character? If you don’t support the positive representation that you have, the writers won’t change an already popular character’s orientation to appease you.

What’s scary is how much Destiel and Cockles shippers do to manipulate events to “support” their ship like altering photos to be only with Misha and Jensen. Example 1.

Example 2.

Example 3.

And seeing these on their own would make people question why the ship isn’t canon if the actors themselves are willing to be so close. I get that. It doesn’t make sense if all you saw was the photoshopped pictures and the slowed-down gifs of eye contact. With only those pictures to work with, yeah. It totally looks like queer-baiting or mocking those fans when it doesn’t appear more often on screen. 

Most, if not all, of the queer-baiting, is simply misinterpreted snippets from actors who are scared of hurting shippers or actually made-up quotes from obsessive Destiel shippers who spread it and upset everybody because we don’t know where it came from but we accept it for some reason. Anything else is usually meant in a joking manner that people take seriously even when characters are clearly being sarcastic. Typed quotes take away voice inflections.

There’s also direct avoidance of anything canon that makes Destiel problematic but I’m just tired of the mental acrobatics of making the show about Dean and Cas’s relationship rather than Sam and Dean’s brotherhood and quest to fight evil.

Jensen’s not a writer on the show, that’s correct. If the writers are responsible for Queerbaiting, that’s on them. But you do realize that everyone on Tumblr just LOVES to read between the lines so intensely that everything has meaning when that’s not always going to be the case. Friendships get turned into the most popular OTP over someone’s interpretation of a scene and then other people begin to look for it. It’s something your brain does naturally if something is pointed out or even suggested to you, you tend to look for it more even if it’s not there.

User Postmodernmulticoloredcloak wrote a massive post on every freaking detail of “Regarding Dean” to make it sexual (from the freaking bunny to watching scooby doo) and tie it all to Castiel who wasn’t even in the episode. At this point, I’d like to remind that “Regarding Dean” involves Dean at his most childlike and innocent. He’s losing memories, he forgets words and watches cartoons, is over enthusiastic about cool things compared to adults... And this shipper tries to make that ...Sexual...If you can’t recognize that some shippers have gone too far with their detail-sniffing and obsession with the gay sex factor of the ship, nothing I can say will help you. People declare clothing, food choices, drinks and more to be evidence of Dean being bisexual. It’s insane and it’s an insult to actual members of the LGBTA community to claim that these can be used to gauge the sexuality of a person.

Another way to interpret that statement (since your context was loose) would be that Jensen doesn’t make the call because he’s not a writer and the writers can make him do anything that they write. What that is saying is that you’re more okay with contractually obligating an actor to go against his feelings and knowledge of his character than for your ship to not become canon.

Someone else wrote this better “ [Jensen] has portrayed Dean for last twelve years, this man knows Dean inside and out, this man defined and made Dean Winchester a legend—this man is Dean. The writers may have outlined the character, but Jensen, Jensen becomes Dean, Jensen is Dean. Do you really think that Jensen is not qualified to talk about Dean? Do you think that his thoughts do not matter? Do you think that Jensen is lying and overcompensating? If yes, then I have to pity you.“ (user: deanisdarkness). Their whole post on this is actually on point. http://deanisdarkness.tumblr.com/post/156250200937/isnt-it-interesting-how-the-guy-who-tells-the

So, yeah. The queer-baiting issue lies more with fans in denial about actors and characters saying straight out that it’s not going to be canon, and instead spreading tampered evidence to fellow shippers than the actual writers intentionally messing with fans.

I love Misha. I love Jensen. I love Jared. I love the show.

The fandom has a lot of issues of hate-mail, shipwars, and, frankly, porn through both imagery and fanfiction which I find disgusting. I focus on the family foundation and the fandom family with the actors, fans, and those involved with the show.

Once again, I don’t care if you ship Destiel. Or Wincest (although that one’s still creepy to me and I’m allowed that opinion as well, but hey at least they don’t forget that this show is about Sam and Dean). Or Sabriel. I care if you’re an honest person and if you’re going too far to promote your ship by doing things like forging evidence and sending hate to other fans.