#...though I wanna say its most likely biggest intended message was ''Making friends'' and how the algorithm will never make as good a frien

[flare-dragon]

Ron's Gone Wrong: An Analysis

I recently rewatched (most of) Ron's Gone Wrong and remembered a few reviews I'd read of it, describing how its message seemed muddied and not very clear...which, ultimately, is true.

But, with that said, there's something I realise about it that it almost gets right (literally, all the way up to its second-last climax is so perfect, and even its ascent to its final climax is still consistent with this realisation). The realisation is that there's one thing it describes really well:

Artificial/Algorithmic "Friendship" vs Organic Relationships

It seems almost simple or obvious that this is the message the movie tried to portray, but the way that it ultimately ended tells me that they either missed the point they were making or someone else forced them to have a different ending (sadly, I think it's the former). I cannot call it a bad movie for missing that point (it's still one my most watched recent movies), but it makes me wonder what it could've been had it brought this point home.

So, without waffling on for too much longer, here's a quick analysis on how it goes about this message, and why it's a good message that doesn't inherently contradict the pervasiveness of social media (even if it also didn't do much about that point)

Barney vs Friendship

The beginning of the movie shows us a "revolutionary invention", designed for making friends: The Bubble Bot (B-Bot for short). From the get-go, we're given a presentation of what the modern friend-making dynamic intends to be: Interact with interests and media, share them online, and the algorithm uses that to help connect with others who shares those interests and enjoyment of media. It's an intentional reflection of modern social media, albeit a somewhat simplified version.

It quickly shifts to a large number of kids connecting to their B-Bots for the first time in a short montage, cut at the end with a hand touching a similarly-coloured door. An assumedly unintentional, but well-placed, contrast and summary of the story. Here we meet Barney.

Without rehashing too much of the beginning of the movie, we learn that everyone else at his school (supposedly?) has a B-Bot and he's the only one without it. Similarly, he doesn't have any friends he talks to during school (or outside of it apart from family). He himself states that he "kinda, actually" needs a B-Bot to make friends these days. One could call this a simple set up to the idea of "You won't make real friends using computers" by starting us off with a B-Bot-less Barney...if it weren't for the fact that he gets one the next day.

This is when we really start to see what I mean by "Barney vs Friendship": His attitude towards what his new B-Bot should be is pretty consistent with how everyone else has been using them: "You are meant to be my friend, and know everything about me." It's hammered in later on during the friendship montage, with Barney making a board on "How to be my friend" (underline by me).

Barney's perception of friendship, then, is revealed as "You are my friend. You are on my side. You like the things I like." A very selfish and self-centred perception. This might seem to set up Barney to be a selfish person...but isn't that how the algorithm is supposed to work? Finding people with the same interesting ("the things I like") and rejecting those who don't share it (which we see at the school, two B-Bots rejecting each other, and thus the two kids, Savannah and Ava, simply walk away from each other). It isn't Barney's fault his understanding of friendship is like this. He's been inundated and surrounded by it.

Barney vs Ron

Up to this point (after the school "riot"), we see Ron as trying so hard to be Barney's friend, to the point of taking Savannah's words to heart and going outside to find people to be friends with Barney (since Ron wants to not be pointless and is connected to Barney). It isn't until now that Ron asks the question: "Barney, are you my friend?"

Barney's response is typical and expected: "What do you mean? My dad bought you for me." After all, Ron is just a robot, right? It does make the idea of the message "Artificial Friendship vs Organic Relationship" difficult to apply since Barney literally doesn't see Ron as a person. He's just a self-moving machine designed to be a friend.

But, interestingly enough, that makes Ron a perfect vehicle for the message. A machine that was intended to just follow the algorithm, instead forced to (and willing to) create their own way through life by whatever limited tools it has access to. Even in the moments Barney sees Ron as just a machine, he's also treated him as an important person in his life.

When they meet up again in Barney's shed, it all finally shifts into what it always should've been: A two-way street. They'd already spent so much time bonding, regardless of the way they'd perceived each other before then (Barney seeing Ron as just a friend machine, Ron seeing Barney as the one person he needed to be a friend to), that the change to actually being a friend to each other and allowing each other's individuality to shine but never be the only priority allows them both to be better friends, differences and all.

To contrast, we also follow in pieces the journeys of Savannah, Rich, Noah, and Ava's own experiences with their functioning-as-intended B-Bots. We see Savannah and Ava miss an opportunity to be friends (and Ava's loneliness from very few B-Bot owners showing an interest in science). We see Noah's constant struggle to be at the top of the leaderboard. We see Rich attention-starved and making as much "content" as he can just to get some. Instead of exploring the possibilities of relationships with people who may not share the same interests, they're steadfast focused on what they're used to, never really getting a chance to evolve it into something more joyful (more on that later)

Barney & Ron vs The World

...a dramatic subtitle, but this is when the two of them run off, away from Bubble's attempt to capture Ron to stem the damage they've seen from him. Barney still doesn't have any friends aside from Ron, and Ron doesn't have any friends aside from Barney. Barney refuses to lose his one and only friend, so they run off, separated from the rest of the world, and just...enjoy each other's company.

In the montage and subsequent scenes, we see more bonding from both of them. Ron is still trying to be a good friend, but Barney gives him a chance to say things for himself and to do things for himself, even if Barney doesn't like it. Even when they argue later from the stress of living outdoors in the woods, they stick together and try to keep warm.

There's not a lot to say about these scenes, except that we see a very stark differences from when they'd first met. It's almost as if this is where we get to see how far they've come as friends. We've seen the relationship grow over time, shifting from seeing each other as a particular purpose into treating each other as individuals. A shift that would've been impossible if Ron simply followed the same algorithm the others did.

Would Barney have found friends if Ron functioned as intended? Would Ron have shown the personality he does if he had ever been connected to the Bubble Network? Would there have ever been a discussion on how to actually make friends? It isn't until later that we find a likely answer to all of these: No. Barney would have fallen into the same trap every other B-Bot user did: A constant hunger for validation that only resulted in disconnection and loneliness.

It al comes to a head when they both find themselves in danger from being caught by Bubble (by remote-controlled B-Bots being controlled without user consent or knowledge. Makes one wonder~). Barney does everything he can to hide and protect Ron (which only succeeds due to Andrew's complete disregard to human life), even risk death from asthma. Ron then does everything he can to ensure Barney doesn't die in the woods, even if it meant being taken away and destroyed.

It's a beautiful relationship, given a chance due to them having to discover who each other were over time and in an organic matter. Ron had to learn Barney's interests manually and even began to observe new things about him over time. Barney shifted the way he looked at Ron to seeing him as his own person, and spent the time to learn his own likes and desires.

Barney vs "Ron's Gone Wrong"

I figure it's also important to include where - in my opinion - the movie loses the message and the storytellers mess up. In the last segment of the movie, we have Ron having been connected to the Bubble Network and losing everything that made him unique, each interaction with Barney being a shallow facsimile of what made Barney become best friends with him (right down to Ron's individuality being erased).

I'm sure there was a way to make this work, but it instead has Barney try to rescue Ron's personality (a backup Marc created somehow) and then, after getting it back, Ron sharing his personality with every other B-Bot (due to seeing how the original algorithm just lead to sad kids disconnected from each other) at the cost of his own life (although that's technically ambiguous, especially with the ending).

I'm...not sure what the intent is, but it misses something big. What made Ron special to Barney was not simply that he existed outside of the mould that every other B-Bot was forced to fit into. It was that Barney got to know him and his eccentricities, and Ron got to grow and evolve alongside Barney. They both grew organically alongside each other, and demonstrated the need for a more natural approach to friendship making compared to the rigidity of the algorithmic connections that occurred through the B-Bots (and not questioning this algorithm or given much chance to examine the issues).

By simply sharing Ron's personality to every other B-Bot, it only really achieves one thing right in relation to the message: It forces each person to operate on their B-Bots level and develop their own connection to their now-chaotic buddy (I suppose not focusing on "online vs offline" as far as friendships go was also a good point for it, as it didn't really feel like a strong enough point for the movie and there's better ways to go about such a message.)

Had there been a greater focus on how it was that Barney's friendship had developed - or at least some kind of portrayal that the updated B-Bots weren't just copies of Ron but had actually become wide and varied individuals for their owners(?) to get to know - the ending might've been able to work better. Ron's sacrifice was a tragedy, but it displayed Ron's sheer selflessness and self-developed kindness and generosity.

If there's one scene that at least supports the message of "Artificial/Algorithmic Friendship vs Organic Relationships", it's the moment Barney sees how unhappy his former-now-again friends as they stare at their B-Bots screens and try to make some semblance of happiness, however shallow it is. Having a contrast of their artificially-built connection compared to Barney and Ron's hard-earnt friendship felt like a good way to help demonstrate the point. I just wish it could've lead to a more satisfying ending.

Barney and Friends

This is just a short little bit, but I wanted to at least point out one other good thing that happens in the last segment and ending. Barney may have started out friendless, but his friendship with Ron and Ron's selfless sacrifice (to get him medical attention) allowed Barney to reconnect with his former friends. It was a moment of realisation for Savannah, Ava, Noah, and Rich: After all this time, they let their friendship decay and be lost.

Seeing them, then, be together and hanging out alongside Barney? It showed another element of an organic relationship: Organic connections. Algorithms can give you other connection points, but it may leave you limited to other perspectives too similar to your own. Organic connections, though, force you to figure out if this thing that you never really thought about before is something you like or not, and if this person's appreciation and interest in it is something you like. It's one of those things that can just grow on its own and become something beautiful.

Just to note: I do not believe online friendships are worse than offline relationships, nor more shallow. Rather, it's algorithmic friendships that fall flat. The power of the internet is that it lets you get in touch with so many people you normally wouldn't have the chance to. Leaving it entirely in the hands of an algorithm (and not thinking critically about it) has you miss out on the beauty of the mish-mash nature of the internet. It's why Tumblr's such a fun place to be~ ^^

Conclusion

So yeah. The thing that always disappointed me most about the movie isn't that it didn't stick the landing. It's that it has such a beautiful message and the story it tells is so heart-warming and charming, but the message isn't carried to the end so you wonder if it was ever intended (I believe it was, but it's hard to say).

Seeing the way Barney and Ron's friendship evolves - and the way they each grow as individuals - contrasted with everyone else using B-Bots as they were originally designed/programmed makes for a pretty compelling portrayal of the differences between a friendship formed and informed by entirely through an algorithm, and a relationship that grew from organic interactions that, even when influenced by expectations from and of each other, created something much more different and complex and much more fulfilling for the two of them.

It's a beautiful friendship, and it's still worth watching to the end~

Bonus

It's more a funny coincidence I noticed, but the way that Andrew kicks Marc out when Ron loses his individuality, and then how Andrew was removed and Marc taking charge again when Ron's personality was distributed to every other B-Bot? Almost feels like its own reference to that message (Algorithmic Friendships may be ubiquitous and everywhere, but ultimately Organic Relationships will last the test of time)

A funny comparison honestly~

[ehbunnehsblog]

So someone made this post I thought was really cool and I wanted to answer it the person who made the post goes by @buh-beep so please go give that post a like and follow them with all that said here are the questions

1. What is the oldest doll you own?

Probably my Beautiful Crissy doll from 1968 although that may not be the date for that exact doll she is pretty old. She was made by the company ideal.

2. What is the doll you got most recently?

My Bratz Collecters Yasmin from 2018 by MGA. When I lived with my mom she bought her for me I think she gave me a card and we got it. I don't have her or any of these dolls anymore since I don't live with my mother for personal reasons.

3. Favorite Type of Doll?

Hands down Bratz. They have been my absolute fave since I was a little girl and i still love them their fashion, makeup just everything really is iconic and I really believe that they might have the same impact as Barbie once I get older. Now if we talk about favorite lines? That will have to be for another time.

4. Least Favorite Type of Doll?

Pinkie Cooper. It's cute I had one but I was just not interested in the dolls sadly I definitely think it was an interesting idea though and its probably perfect for some people I just never knew where she would fit in with my other dolls. Also when I saw my cousin and his ex they had stuff for me and for some reason I could only take two things home and my mom sorta had me take her home when I could have had a Hannah Montana doll so rip :p

5. How many dolls do you own?

Zero now rip but honestly idk. I had mostly Bratz and sorta collected but now I might genuinely try to collect them.

6. What is a doll you had and wish you still did?

Tan Bratz Passion 4 Fashion Cloe. I still really wish I kept her but I was going through this dumb phase where I just stopped caring about my dolls and we had this science project in school and I did mine on hair dye and dyed her hair using some fruit or something and gave her away. If anyone knows where I can get her (hopefully for cheap) please tell me I really loved her she was also one of my friends absolute favorites.

7. What does your wish list look like?

A lotta Bratz mostly but that would be a very long list so to save you the details two of the series I want are the Tokyo a Gogo dolls, Formal Funk and Flashback Fever.

8. Prettiest Doll you Own?

Honestly have no clue all of them are gorgeous but I think one of my prettiest is definitely Rock Angelz Sasha I would love to own more Sasha dolls shes so gorgeous.

9. Ugliest Doll you own but love anyways?

I don't think I own any ugly ones really just ones that had messed up hair so I don't really have anything to add here. Actually hmm maybe my first edition Cameron and Dylan Bratz dolls they are still cool though.

10. Cutest Doll you own?

Either my Barbie Peek a Boos or my Mindy Mint Chocolate Chip Yummyland doll. I love Bratz but I really wish I saw more cutesy but fashionable dolls I believe they should bring back Yummyland dolls they smell so dang good and because kids love slim maybe they could add a small bottle (in a shape of a drink) that smells nice too? Idk lol.

11. Biggest Doll you own?

A Barbie doll that is I believe 28" in size after that I would say my Beautiful Crissy Doll and than my Yummyland doll.

12. Smallest doll you own?

All of my Barbie Peekaboos and Polly Pockets. Since Polly came back I think Mattel has the perfect chance to bring back Barbie Peek a Boos. They are pretty small so I kept them in a basket I am used to the size of Bratz I find them easier to hold over Barbie Peek a Boos or Polly's.

13. What doll in your collection is worth most?

Hmm probably Beautiful Crissy tbh I wanted her because when i was in grade 8 i watched these old vintage commercials on YouTube and i saw her and i just thought she was one of the most gorgeous dolls. I don't have her now because again shes at my moms but I don't think I could sell her shes just really cute and I think dolls from that time and older are special and tell a story and show a different time.

14. Doll you will never buy and why?

Lamilly and American Girls. I know these dolls especially American Girls are very popular for a lot of people but I am not really into dolls that are supposed to be like me I like fashion dolls mostly or really cutesy dolls. I think American Dolls are pretty iconic in their own way but I just can't see me owning one and for Lamilly same deal I feel like its trying to put down other dolls and make Lamilly seem superior and I just don't dig it. I don't like Barbie's a whole lot but I dislike like Lamilly I think it's a good message but it just feels meh? Idk other dolls I will never own are Blythe's I have this thing with dolls with eyes like that and I think it would probably spook me a bit.

15. Strangest doll you own?

Pinkie Cooper hands down. Again she just doesn't fit anywhere and shes so odd and really stands out from the others not that that's always a bad thing but as someone who is mostly into Bratz, Monster High and Ever After High she just doesn't go anywhere although she would probably fit in maybe with the EAH dolls. Another is probably the big Barbie like I didn't want her I just got her as a Christmas present one year and yeah that's that.

16. Biggest Doll Related Regret?

Giving away that Cloe doll I will always regret that also almost wanting to sell my Bratz and not bringing my dolls with me when I left my moms and went to my dads. Also I just wanna say my dad is the coolest and one day we had a nice convo about toys and stuff it was pretty rad.

17. What's the most important aspect of a doll in your opinion?

I just want to say I absolutely love this question this is the main reason why I wanted to make this post. I believe the most important aspect is if the owner finds joy in that doll because if you don't we wouldn't have so many people collecting dolls and dolls wouldn't be sold. I think dolls are very important and can build up good skills. Another important aspect is if you can pose the doll and depending on if it's a fashion dolls is if it has good clothes and good fabric all of these are so important but as long as people find joy that's the most important.

18. What's your doll related pet peeve

People are gonna hate this and I apologize but I find it difficult to watch or look at people changing the dolls like not in clothes changing but repaints it's cool and some of them are absolutely gorgeous but sometimes I have a bit of a pet peeve of them mostly because I am so worried that I will never find those dolls because people use them and repaint them. Their aren't many Bratz repaints though so I don't get bothered too much and when they do repaints they make the faces so pretty and I would love for MGA to use some of the screenings some of these people use because they look so good.

19. When did you start collecting dolls?

This might be an odd opinion but I think that anyone can be a doll collector even if they don't mean to be like for me I don't call myself a doll collector but I sorta am? Even though I never meant to be but now I do want to collect but it started with Bratz when I was young but now I want to take it a bit more seriously.

20. Have any doll related stories?

Well I never first fought anyone I was way too young lol but I do have two good stories number 1 is on Christmas a few years back my grandparents before they both passed bought me a Holiday Yasmin doll from 2007 don't know how they found it but they did and I loved that doll but again at my moms rip another one is one Christmas I got two of the same Bratz Cade dolls and for the longest time I thought it was Dylan because the doll looked exactly like Dylan does in the movies and shows lol! I might go into more stories on my dolls because there are a few that I really like.

With all of these questions answered I will once again ask people who see this to go like and follow @buh-beep who made the original post. This was intended for doll collectors I believe personally I don't call myself a collector but as someone who loves dolls I thought this would be fun and it really was if anyone wants to this I suggest it. Its really fun and I like sharing this stuff with you guys.

☆With all that said I hope you liked this post. Please give me a follow i post a lot of stuff like this☆

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch9: You Just Keep On Giving

Summary: Katie and Coulson’s team head off in an attempt to track down the missing Asgardian staff whilst Steve confronts Fury about his actions. Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Smut (NSFW)  over 18s only thanks. LANGUAGE!!

Flashbacks depicted in italics.

November 2013

Steve was sat on his couch when Katie called. Smiling he accepted the face time and she beamed at him.

“Hey handsome.” she smiled “Am I glad to see your face.” “You’ve only been gone a few hours.” he chuckled.

“7, actually.” she pouted “Jerk.” He grinned “7 too long, love. How’s it going?” “Ok, we’re heading out tomorrow to speak to a professor I took some advice from when Thor was first on Earth. He’s based in Seville so not too far away.” “Tour of Europe, nice.” “Be nicer if you were here.” she sighed

“Wish I was. The team ok?” he asked, leaning back.

“Well I know all of them bar 1.” Katie said “And like all of them bar 1”

Steve laughed “They made a good first impression then?” “Oh, it’s not the one I don’t know that I don’t like.” she paused, before letting out a groan and wrinkling up her freckle spattered nose “Fucking Ward is here.” Steve frowned and sat up, swallowing the anger rising from his chest “What?” “Yeah, apparently his post was one with Coulson’s mobile team. Go figure.” “Son of a…” Steve was mad, really mad. First off Fury had sprung Coulson on his girl, and now this. He looked at her as she shook her head, shrugging “You could always come home.” he suggested, even though he knew she wouldn’t.

“I’m involved now.” she said, “might as well see it through. And as much of a dickhead he is, he’s a good agent so…” “I’m not sure I like you being cooped up in so close proximity to him.” Steve sighed, and as her eyes narrowed he knew he’d said the wrong thing.

Katie frowned “What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t you trust me?” “Of course I do.” he placated, cursing himself. And he did. He trusted her implicitly “I just know how much he upset you and I don’t like him.”

Katie laughed at his somewhat childish answer and he was pleased to see the anger in her face dissipating. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m over him now.” “I wish I was over you…” Steve said, smirking and she gave a shocked gasp.

“Captain Badass! How rude…” He laughed and then sighed “But I mean it. If he steps a toe outta line, I’ll be on a jet straight over to break his nose, again.”

Katie smirked “You didn’t break it last time, that was Tony remember?”

Remember? How could he forget?

They’d were at a bar, Tony was in town and Lawson’s band had been playing so they had gone out for a few beers. And then he’d shown up, again. Steve and Katie had spent most of the night trying to keep Tony calm and away from him, and now by some sick twist of fate Steve unfortunately, found himself next to Ward at the bar as he waited to get another round of drinks in whilst Tony and Natasha were at a table by the dance floor. Ward was watching Katie whilst she danced with Clint as the archer twirled her effortlessly round the floor as the post-band DJ continued to play. Steve didn’t miss the way her ex boy-friend’s eyes travelled down her body and backup again and he felt himself bristle as he watched the man, blatantly ogling his girl. It wasn’t alien, she turned heads wherever but the fact it was her ex riled him big time, especially as this man had treat her like shit, made her feel worthless… Steve hated him for that.

Ward looked up and at least had the grace to look a little sheepish at being caught.

“Sorry Captain…just, well, you have a hell of a woman there.”

Steve looked at the man, his voice low and emotionless “I know.”

“Biggest regret I have is how I treated her.” Ward sighed, taking a drink from his glass. “I was a jerk.”

“No arguments here.” Steve muttered, a bit louder than he had intended as the bar tender approached with his order. Steve paid and picked up his bottle to take a swig whilst waiting for his change, only to find Ward talking to him again.

“She was a demon in the sack too, as you’ll know…” Ward said, looking straight ahead, a smirk on his face. Steve paused, bottle raised to his mouth. Was this asshole actually going there?

“I’ve no idea why I went looking elsewhere.” Ward continued, before he turned to look at Steve, “The things she can do with her mouth and-“

“That’s enough.” Steve said, his voice was loaded with anger as he slammed the bottle down on the counter causing it to shatter, sending its contents flying over the surface along with shards of glass as he turned his head to look at Ward, ignoring the bar tenders squeak of shock. As Steve stood up straight and glared at the man, who was an inch or so shorter than he was, he knew he’d risen to the ridiculous goading and given Ward the reaction he wanted, but right now what he wanted was to smash the fucker’s face straight down into the pool of beer that was gathered on the surface below and watch as his nose broke.

But he didn’t get chance, as at that moment a whirl of grey blazer and dark jeans flew in between them both and suddenly Ward was on the floor. 

Tony had punched him straight in the face.

“Man I’ve been waiting to do that for years…” Tony said, shaking out his fist as he glanced down at Ward.

“You broke my nose…” Ward said as he stood up, shrugging off Rollins who had helped him to his feet. “Yeah well you broke my sister’s heart” Tony snarled back as Natasha stepped in front of him, both hands on her chest pushing him away. “Sue me.”

“What is going on?” a loud voice said to their side and all 3 men turned to see Katie stood there, Clint at her side, a blank expression on her face as her eyes locked onto Tony’s.

“Your brother just punched me.” Ward said, wiping at his bloodied face.

"yeah I saw that. " She said, eyes still on Tony "Why?”

“Because he’s a dick.” Tony said simply “And he was picking a fight with Spangles. Thought I’d get in there first…”

Katie looked at Steve who gave her a raise of his eyebrows in confirmation before she tuned to look at Tony again.

“You were protecting Captain America…” Katie said, her lips twitching slightly.

Tony shrugged “That and I just really wanted to hit him.” “Come on guys…” the bar tender said lightly “I don’t want to have to ask any of you to leave…”

“You never did like me, did you Tony?” Ward wiped again at his nose, spatters of blood landing all over his shirt.

“No.” Tony deadpanned simply, picking at something on his sleeve.

“Time to go Ward…” Rollins said, patting Ward’s chest. Ward shot one last look at the group before turning to go.

“Ok, nothing to see here…move it a long…” Clint said as the crowd that had gathered dissipated and the volume level of the club returned to normal.

Tony groaned, shaking out his right hand. “Jesus that hurt.” “Let me see…” Natasha said, turning to Tony as Clint announced that the fact Ward had his nose splattered across his face called for a celebratory round of chasers, turning to the bar.

Steve stepped towards his girl and gently placed a hand in the small of her back and she turned to look at him, breaking her gaze from the door Ward had left through.

“So what did he say to you to make you lose it?” She said gently.

“I didn’t lose it, Tony was the one that punched him” he said someone childishly.

Katie raised an eyebrow “Oh, and did Tony smash that bottle all over the bar?” “You saw that?” Steve wrinkled his nose, sheepishly.

She nodded. “What did he say?”

“It doesn’t matter” he said softly.

“Let me guess, ‘she was amazing in bed…’” she mimicked a deep voice “’she can do amazing things with her hands…mouth…pick a hole’” Steve flushed bright red, which was answer in itself as she shook her head. 

“So predictable.” Katie said, her eyes not once leaving Steve’s “You know he was doing it on purpose, to get a rise out of you. And it worked.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighed, reaching out and gently grabbing her hips, pulling her to him. “I just…I didn’t like him talking about you like that, I wouldn’t like anyone talking about you like that.” He saw Katie’s mouth twitch at the side as her hands gently wrapped around his upper arms. ”My hero.”

He let out a huff of a laugh and was about to, once again, point out that it was Tony who had landed the blow when the Inventor reminded them himself.

“Jesus you are a sadist!” Tony was pulling his hand away from where Nat had pressed a towel wrapped around a load of ice to his knuckles.

“Quite being a baby.” she said airily as Tony glared at her, holding his hand to his chest.

“To be fair to Tony…” Steve said, grinning at the memory as he looked at the screen of his StarkPhone “It was a pretty good punch.” Katie sniggered and looked up as Steve heard a knock on her door. “Yeah?” A voice from off screen spoke. “Hey, we’re meeting for some food and a few beers if you wanna…” “Yeah I’ll be with you in a sec…” “Are you talking to him?” the voice gained pitch and Steve arched an eyebrow letting out a soft sigh.

Katie laughed “Yeah, hey Stevie…you got a fan.” she said looking at him before he turned the phone round and Steve saw a small woman, leaning in the doorway, long, dark hair tucked behind her ears. He rubbed his neck slightly embarrassed and waved.

“Hi…” “Skye, Steve, Steve, Skye…” “Nice to meet you Skye…well, talk to you…” “You too Cap.” she grinned as Katie turned the phone round. “I’ll see you down there.”

Katie nodded as she shut the door.

“That was the newbie.” she said to Steve who smiled at her. “She seems nice.” Steve nodded. “I’ll let you go get some food, I know how you get when you don’t eat.”

“Oh hello kettle, this is Steve Rogers here. You're black” she said sarcastically making him laugh loudly “You’re the king of hanger.” “And that makes you the queen of hanger by default so…”

“Smart ass.” she said after a pause, “I better go, I’ll message you later.”

“Love you.” he smiled at her. “Love you too.” she said, before adding with a sarcastic grin “My king…”

***** Katie had no idea where the food came from but she didn’t care. A big, greasy bacon cheeseburger with a side of loaded fries really hit the spot, especially alongside a large glass of Aviation gin.

As they ate they talked and Fitz, who was bouncing on his chair eventually lost his composure and leant forward.

“So…I’m sorry…and May told me not to ask but I have to… what’s it like dating Captain America?” Katie gave a huff as she swallowed down her food. “I wouldn’t know.” she said “I’m dating Steve Rogers.”

"I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…”  Fitz stuttered as May threw him a filthy look whilst Simmons hit him on the arm.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” she smiled “I just… well, there’s far more to him than the shield and the stars and stripes….he’s the kindest, gentlest, sweetest guy I’ve ever met.”

Ward shifted in his seat and whilst Katie didn’t look at him, the movement didn’t go unnoticed.

“But, isn’t he like, dead old fashioned?” Skye asked. “Being like nearly a hundred…” “Not really.” Katie said, shrugging “I mean he has a few little quirks, but he’s adapted quite well all things considered”

“How is he?” Coulson asked “I mean, I’ve not seen him since…well, I died.” “He’s good.” Katie smiled “He’s fit right in to SHIELD and…he’s happy, we’re happy.”

“Oh that’s so sweet!” Simmons gushed.

“An Avengers love story…” Fitz sighed. “Man, wish I could be an Avenger…”

"What would your super power be?” Ward snorted, knocking back his scotch “Boring everyone to death with algorithms?” “You do know that there’s only actually 3 out of the 7 of us that a super power of sorts.” Katie said simply, shooting Ward a glare before she turned to Fitz “Steve, Dr Banner and Thor. The rest of us rely on training or technology…” “So you’re saying I have a chance?” Fitz grinned causing the rest of the table to laugh or snort.

“Never give up on your dreams.”  May deadpanned, causing the table to laugh.  

They continued chatting and attacked their food before Skye continued questioning

“We’re all dying to know…” she looked at Katie “What was AC like as an SO?” Coulson groaned and Katie laughed, swallowing the rest of her burger “He was the best.” she smirked, “although to be fair, once I started training as a Field Op, my real SO was Hawkeye.” “Now HE is dreamy…” Simmons said “all dark and broody and…arrowy…” “Arrowy?” Skye snorted “that isn’t even a word…”

“He’ll love that!” Katie said, laughing “Arrowy...”

Coulson stood up, gesturing round the table as people had finished drinks and he headed to the bar to get more, Fitz and Ward following to help.

“So how did you end up joining SHIELD?” Katie looked at Skye.

“I hacked them.” She shrugged “I was trailing some guy who had taken some extremis serum and blew their cover.”

“You’d get on very well with my brother.” Katie snorted “He hacks SHIELD for fun.” “Still?” Coulson asked as he placed another drink down in front of her.

She nodded “Much to Fury’s annoyance...”

She trailed off slightly as she remembered the last time Tony had hacked SHIELD. He’d discovered something that she really wished he hadn’t. SHIELD were conducting experiments on the recovered Chitauri weapons. It had pissed her, Steve and Tony off no end and made her extremely glad the Tesseract had gone back to Asgard with Thor. Meddling with things they didn’t understand never did any good. But more so it was the fact that Fury had declared it was all being destroyed upon recovery. Another lie the Director had spun. And she was getting tired of them. Real tired.

Shaking the thought off she turned her attention to Coulson who was now talking about the task in hand tomorrow. The team came up with a plan about who was going where and when, and then Katie decided she’d had enough. She stood up, bidding the team goodnight.

***** The university was a short drive away from where they had set The Bus down. Coulson drove in his beloved red sports car, Lola. When they arrived they easily navigated their way through to Elliot’s office. As they reached his office door, it swung outwards and Coulson held it open. “I’ll see you later.” Elliot was saying to a dark haired, female student who exited the office with a pile of paper and books clutched in her arm. Elliot looked up, saw them standing there and let out a small exclamation of surprise.

“Oh…”

“Professor Randolph.” Coulson said, shaking his hand.

“Agent Coulson, Agent Stark”

“Good to see you again.” Katie shook his hand.

“Well I never, come in, come in.” “Waterfield 44” Phil said suddenly, and Katie looked at him frowning. It was only when Elliot looked down at the pen in his hand, holding it out for Coulson to take that she realised what he was talking about. “14-Karat gold nib with mother of pearl inlay.” Coulson turned the pen over in his hand before offering it back.

Katie bit back a snort, it sounded like something Tony would own. “That’s quite an eye you’ve got. I didn’t know you were a collector.” Professor Randalph laughed.

“On my wages?” Coulson snorted “I wish.” “Well…” Elliot took the pen back and tucked it in his pocket before looking at them. “I’m assuming you found something on the ground in London…”

“In a tree in Norway.” Coulson added, placing the case containing the printed rod that Fitz had made on the desk, opening it.  ”And unfortunately we weren’t the ones who found it.” Katie added “It’s a 3-D model” Couslon said, handing the item to Elliot who took it, examining it closely. “Oh, that is amazing”

He turned away from them and put the rods symbols under a light to look at them better. “Now, based on these runes,” he said, still looking at it “I’d say I’m looking at a piece of  Berserker Staff.”

Katie smiled as her and Coulson exchanged a look. Even if she said so herself, she was good at this.

“But I think you already know that…”  Elliot looked up as he set the rod down.

“Only suspected.” Katie smiled “My knowledge on it is sketchy, and there are many different theories about it so...”

The Professor stood up and walked over to pull a book off his shelf “Here.” He set the book on the desk and Katie and Coulson looked down at a drawing of a man holding the rod up high over his head, the rod in the book was considerably bigger than the one that was taken out of the tree.  Katie started to read the book as Elliot continued to explain. “The man in question was a solider in the Berserker Army” Professor Randalph spoke “Berserker Army?” Coulson asked “Oh, yeah. A powerful army. Fierce army” Elliot spoke “Berserkers battled like raging beasts, destroying everything in their path. A single Berserker had the strength of 20 warriors”. “So whoever wielded the staff got superhuman strength?” Coulson asked “Fighting with it put the warrior into a state of uncontrollable rage” he replied, picking up the rod and showing it to Coulson.  “The staff contained a very powerful magic”. “The warrior in the story?” Coulson pressed as Katie continued to read, frowning as she spotted something pretty interesting. “He came to Earth to fight,” Elliot said “But he ended up falling in love.”

“With whom?” Coulson asked “With life, on Earth. Humanity” Professor Randalph shrugged   “He fell so much in love that when his army returned to Asgard, he stayed behind.”

“And the staff? He broke it?”

Professor Randalph nodded “He didn’t want its dark magic falling into the wrong hands. So, according to legend he broke it into three pieces and hid each one in a different location.”  “That manuscript wouldn’t happen to say where he hid them, would it?” Coulson asked. “Actually, it does.” Katie spoke, and placed the book down on the desk, pointing at it, smiling. “In three verses.”

“Now, let’s all bear in mind these are poetic abstracts from long-lost ancient texts.”  Elliot said as Katie cleared her throat and began to read.

“So, there is one about a tree, which they’ve found it seems. Another is ‘East of the river, sun overhead, buried in Earth with the bones of the dead.”’

“That’s a bit macabre, isn’t it?” Randalph said, folding his arms as he smiled.

“There’s another one here.” she continued “Well, this one doesn’t even have a rhyme. But the gist of it is “close to God.” That could be anything, couldn’t it?” “Yeah, I was hoping for less metaphor, more longitude and latitude” Coulson sighed. “Well, maybe we should start looking at areas and places located near Viking raid routes” Katie said, an idea coming to her “Being Norse and all…”

“There have been some recent interesting findings of Norse relics on Baffin Island off the coast of Canada” Randalph shrugged “ Yeah, a virtual treasure trove of new artefacts.”

“Well, we’ll check it out. Thank you for your time Professor.” Coulson said, reaching out to shake his hand. Steve and I also did the same and followed him out of the university

“So AC, Baffin Island?” Katie said as they climbed back into Lola.

“Did you know there’s Mount Thor on Baffin Island?” Coulson said, starting up the car as Katie shut the passenger door.

“Really?” “Yeah, and do you know what’s not on Mount Thor?” Coulson asked “Anything Asgardian at all. Our agents on the ground combed over it when all these Norse relics turned up. Didn’t find a thing”

***** “So like you’re a Mission Analyst.” Skye looked at Katie, across the table of the Planning Room

“Yeah”

“And a sniper with STRIKE?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re also an Avenger…”

“Yeah.” Katie muttered, not looking up from the screen she was studying, “Although what we’re avenging now that Coulson isn’t actually dead I don’t know…”

She peered closer at the screen and moved the map 180 degrees using her hand.

“Pretty intense.” Skye said.

“Yeah it can be.” Katie smiled, staring back at the map. She’d been running an analysis on the Viking Routes in Europe and she was missing something. But she couldn’t think what. And then one highlighted on the map in yellow caught her eye. She tapped in closer, and frowned. “Now that’s interesting…”

She thought for a moment, and then ran another quick search on something, her mind working ten to the dozen.

“What have we got?” Coulson asked as he walked into the room with Ward. Katie looked up and was about to speak but Skye beat her to it.

"Nystorm’s deep-web message boards are just abuzz with psychos”

She moved her hand over the screen so that it activated the hologram display functionality in the middle of the table, various messages scrolling across the bottom part. “They believe they’re gonna ascend to be the Gods of destruction and death. People suck, sir.” “That’s your progress, “people suck”?” Ward looked at her, his eyebrows raised slightly. Katie felt the corner of her mouth twitch up slightly. “These people do.” Skye insisted “And there’s also chatter about going underground.”

“Could be going incognito or – “ Ward started “ Or searching for the next piece.” Coulson said turning to Katie “You said about checking Viking routes. Find anything?” “Matter of fact I did.” She said, clicking on her mouse to send the map to the holoview.  “There are some sites along the Volga River in Russia, some in Kiev, and weirdly, here.” She hovered the curser over the map on her screen, zooming into show a map of Seville.

“In Seville, Spain?” Coulson said, frowning. “It’s a long shot, but Vikings ransacked Seville twice.” she said, “Or so the history books tell us.” At that point the search she was running stopped and something flashed up.

“There…” Katie said, “That’s a promising location. Viking Relics found at El Divino Nino, a church would you believe it. ”

“Built on the ruins of an 8th century crypt.” Agent May said as she walked into the room “It’s a tourist attraction” she explained as everyone turned to look at her.

“Which in turn was built on Roman ruins from 206 B.C.” Katie said, reading off the screen. “It’s East of a river.” Ward said, leaning on the back of her chair to look at the map over her shoulder. Katie rolled her eyes, he didn’t need to do that, he could have looked at the holodisplay.

“Crypt could be underground…” Sky offered.

“And lots of bones…” Katie shrugged.

Coulson nodded “Ok, Let’s see what we can dig up. See what I did there?”

“I’m glad dying and rising again didn’t change your sense of humour AC.” Katie said, grinning at him “It’s still crap.” *****

 “Must be nice, have a mandatory nap time” Fitz said, looking out of the van. Katie, Coulson and Fitz were providing support up top, whilst Skye and Ward investigated the crypts.  It was the middle of the day, there wasn’t a soul in sight.

“Siesta isn’t mandatory, just very pleasant” Coulson replied, before he spoke into the comms device. “How you doing, Agent Ward?”

“Wishing I was shorter.” His voice responded, “Nothing yet. All my readings are normal”

“What about you Skye? Any luck?

“I’m lucky Ward volunteered to take the super creepy hallways instead of the slightly less creepy dungeon room place” Sky responded.

At that point the tablet that Fitz was holding pinged and all 3 of them shifted to look at it.

“I got nothing. Sorry, nada.” Sky continued. “Ward,” Fitz’s said, looking down at the tablet. “Your spectrograph is reading something near you.” “ I don’t see anything”. Ward replied “Well, it’s right in front of you. Oh, wait. No. Uh, okay, hold on. It’s moving – northwest”

The three of them watched the dot on the screen.

There was a pause and then suddenly Ward responded, his voice now excited.

“Visual Contact…”

“Ward, turn left.” Fitz said, reading off the screen.

After a moment or so they heard another voice that wasn’t Ward, before he finally spoke again.

“Yeah, I just ran into some unexpected…”

But he trailed off. The three of them sat up straight as they heard some kind of strange, low rumbling noise and then there was a groan of pain, a grunt and silence.

“Ward, what’s happening?” Coulson asked as, Fitz let out a groan. “His device just went down” Fitz said, tilting the tablet so we could all see it.

“Skye can you get…” Coulson started to say but he was cut off by her reply “Already on it.”

There were a few moments of silence, where Katie nervously nibbled on her lip. She hated this, not knowing what was going on was always the shittest bit of not being in the middle of the action.

“Somethings wrong with Agent Ward.” Skye replied a few minutes later “The staff’s gone, someone took it.”

“Shit.” Katie said as Coulson looked at her, then to Fitz, before he stepped out of the SUV, Katie following.

“He can’t just disappear.” Coulson said, turning in the street “He’ll have to turn up some –“

Then they heard someone yelling from behind them and a loud whishing noise.

“Where…” Coulson finished as they both turned round to see a car being tossed into the street, landing on its roof.

“There we go. A block South of the Church.” Fitz spoke in their ears.

The pair of them started in that direction, running across the street. As they rounded the corner they spotted Professor Randalph who was picking books up and putting them inside his bag. Katie exchanged a glance with Coulson and he shrugged at her before the pair of them strode over to where the Professor was stooped. He glanced up at them and then sighed, sitting down hard on the pavement.

“Professor.” Coulson stated as Katie folded her arms

“I screwed up.” Professor Randalph said simply.

***** “One of my men is hurt, the staff is gone.” Coulson spoke, sitting at the table opposite Elliot as Katie and Agent May watched from Coulson’s office. “I didn’t want any of that to happen.” the professor sighed.

“What did you want?” Coulson asked “The staff’s power for yourself?”

“Nothing like that.” Elliot shook his head earnestly “You know, I just wanted to be the first to study it. To prove that the Berserkers were actually here, a part of history. You think about that.” “ Oh, I’m thinking about it.” Coulson replied. “How’d they find it?” “I have no idea.” Elliot laughed “They may have the original texts. I wasn’t involved. You know, it was just a chance to uncover something that the Gods brought down from the heavens. “Aliens brought it. From space” Coulson said. Katie smiled as she thought about how Thor would respond to being called an alien. “I’ve spent some one-on-one time with aliens before. Didn’t work out too well.”

“Understatement of the century…” Katie muttered, drawing a glimmer of a smirk from May.

“So cases like this are personal to me.” Coulson concluded. “That’s all I know” Elliot, placed his hands flat on the table and sighed. Coulson stood up and made his way to the door before paused and looked back. “Get comfortable.” and the door to the cell slammed shut.

“What you think?” Katie turned to May, who was stood her arms crossed. She pondered for a moment, opened her mouth but was cut off.

“Agent May…” Fitz appeared in the doorway “Ward’s… well he’s not well, he’s gone down to the cargo bay, won’t let me treat him.”

She nodded and looked back to Katie

.“Oh no.” Katie snorted “My days of dealing with his tantrums are over.”

“Thought I’d ask.” she said, smirking slightly. Katie waved her off and returned to looking at the screen. Elliot was sat still at the table, looking around the room in mild amusement, not the demeanour of a man who was concerned or phased in the slightest, which puzzled her slightly. In his shoes, she’d be extremely uncomfortable in a cell, being quizzed by a Government body on some kind of extra-terrestrial item.

She turned to face Coulson as he walked into the room.

“You don’t think he does want the power for himself, do you?” Katie looked at him. It was more a statement than a question.

“I don’t know… there’s something not quite right.” Phil said, sinking into the chair behind his desk.

“He’s too confident” Katie said, “Look at him. He’s not phased in the slightest."

They both glanced at the screen. Now their ‘prisoner’ was sat on his chair, tilting backwards so the front two legs were off the floor. A sudden wild theory sprang into Katie’s head and she turned to AC.

“You know, he didn’t even flinch when you said you’d spent time with Aliens, normally that would make someone kinda curious right?”

“Normally, yes” Phil said, leaning back in his chair.

“And how did he know how to get that second piece?” Katie said, “Do you think he figured it out as fast as we did or..."

“Did he know where to find it, because he hid it in the first place?”  Coulson finished her sentence. Katie shrugged, smiling. “See Nova, that is why I wanted you here."

“A moment, sir?”  they both looked up to see Ward stood in the doorway.

“Come on in”

“Are you alright?” Katie asked, despite herself. Ward looked pale and drawn.

“Yeah, thanks. I just need a word with Coulson.”

Katie nodded to show she understood and made to stand up but Ward shook his head.

"Stay.” Ward said “It concerns the team so…

Katie shrugged and sat up slightly in her chair.

“Alright Ward, what is it?” Coulson asked as he took a seat next to Katie on the other side of the desk.

“I don’t think back to childhood. Ever. As you know.” He looked at Katie and she looked down. He’d told her about his childhood, he’d had an older brother that had been abusive, as had his father. “There are things I put away a long time ago because I have to be focused, tactical. I can’t be distracted. Especially by things that happened a lifetime ago. But before, when I touched that thing… I did.”

“Touching the staff brought back memories?” Katie asked, curiously. Ward nodded and looked at her “My worst memory”. He paused for a moment and when he spoke again she was surprised to hear his voice was breaking slightly. “The first time I felt…hate. And it won’t go away.

The room fell silent and Katie looked at Coulson who took a deep breath and broke the silence.

“You’ve got some rage built up?” Coulson asked. Ward looked at him and nodded “Maybe it’s time to let it out.”

“Put our theory to the test.” Katie said, catching on.

Coulson nodded “I can run with that. ***** “You wanted to see me sir.” Steve stepped into the Directors office.

“Close the door Captain.” Fury said. Steve turned, did as he was told and then strode over to Fury’s desk.

“Have you spoken to Agent Stark today?”

Steve frowned “ Not today, no. I spoke to her last night.”

“What did she tell you about the mission?”

He was digging. Digging to see how much he knew and if Katie had kept her word. Swallowing down the annoyance he levelled the Director with a look that would have anyone else quaking in their boots.

“Nothing. All I know is she’s in Seville, and the team she’s working with contains Ward.” He drew himself a bit taller “Which for the record was a real shitty thing to do.” Fury looked at Steve “I’m not having the teams I organise dictated by personal issues, Captain. “I don’t expect them to be.” Steve bit back. “But not warning her before hand was out of order.” “Would she have gone if I’d have told her?” Steve hesitated, he didn’t actually know the answer to that. In actual fact she would have probably been torn, torn between wanting to take the mission, torn between not wanting to spend time in his vicinity. And knowing Katie as he did, the mission would have probably won.”

“I don’t know.” he said honestly. “I think she would have wanted to do the right thing,  just don’t think all the lies are fair, its manipulative...”

“All the lies, Captain?” Fury looked at him and Steve felt himself pale “What other lies has she told you about?" “Nothing.” “So she hasn’t told you Coulson’s still alive?”

Steve put on what he hoped was his best shocked face. “What?”

Fury laughed ”Your acting is as bad as your lying Captain."

Steve sighed before immediately going on the defensive “You gonna sack her? I mean that’s what you told her isn’t it? Her job was on the line unless she lied for you?" Fury sighed “I didn’t want to do that. In hindsight I realised it was unfair to ask her to keep it from you. But it’s imperative that no one else finds out about this.

“Secrets and lies huh?” Steve raised his eyebrows.

“We operate in the shadows Captain, it’s just how it needs to be.” Steve looked to the side, his hands dropping to the buckle of his belt in his usual Captain stance.

“Look, if you both wanna take a few days off when she’s back, it can be arranged.” Fury said, looking at him and Steve frowned at the man’s outward display of compassion.

“Feeling guilty?” Steve looked at him.

“Happens to the most cold hearted of us all.” Fury said , “And I figured you both might need it.” “Both of us?” Steve frowned, looking at him.

“Yeah, I didn’t just bring you up here to talk about Stark.” Fury said, picking up a remote and turning on the screen. A map flashed up and Steve took a deep breath. “Agent Romanoff has been undercover this last week tracking down more Chitauri weapons. This time to Yemen. I need you to organise an op."

Steve folded his arms and let out a deep breath.

“You just keep on giving, don’t you Nick?”

****

Their theory was right. Elliot Randalph was Asgardian, a fact he displayed by easily bending the blade of a knife that Ward threatened him with.

“I had no clue. Did you?” Fitz looked over at Simmons who shook her head. “Hidden in plain sight, an actual Asgardian. Brilliant.” Simmons said, staring at the screen. “ How long do you suppose he’s been on our planet?” Skye asked. “A thousand years, maybe more.” Katie said, turning her attention from the screen she’d been watching Elliot confess on to look at the team.

"If we could just cut him open a little..." Simmons mused

Katie and Skye both looked at her, Fitz was nodding his head in agreement. “…get some tissue samples, maybe some bodily fluids, we could find out.” She finished. “ Or we could just ask him, weirdo” Skye rolled her eyes. “This is way, way better than the History Channel. I mean this guy has lived through all the scary stuff, the Crusades, the Black Death, Disco.”

“It is pretty exciting.” Katie said, “I mean Coulson thought finding Steve was cool but, he’d just slept for 70 years…”

Sky grinned as Agent May entered the room, holding a tablet and hitting various buttons on it. “What are you doing?” she asked, curiously.

“Sealing the interrogation room door.” May replied. Katie looked at her, the confusion she was feeling clearly evident on her face as May shrugged “Coulson’s orders.” She said simply.

“Ah, locking me in.” Elliot said as Katie turned her attention back to the screen. “Well, I’ve been in tighter spots.” “This room is made of a silicon carbide-coated vibranium alloy.” Ward explained “Meant for prisoners like yourself.” “But you’re in here, too. And eventually somebody will open that door”. “ Not if I tell them not to.”  Coulson shrugged, sitting in the chair opposite Elliot “ So the myth is your autobiography.” “ I didn’t write it. I didn’t want anyone to know about me. Then I had to open my big mouth.” He sighed “Were you captured? Tortured?”

“Horny.” Elliot shrugged  “I met a French girl in 1546. Ah, she loved stories. So…I told her a great one. All about the peaceful Asgardian warrior who stayed. Now, how was I to know her brother, the priest, would write it all down and turn it into, I don’t know, a thing?”

“Do you know Thor?” Coulson continued the questions.

“Oh sure. I spent all my days palling around with the future King of Asgard” Elliot rolled his eyes “No, I don’t know Thor. I was a mason. I broke rocks. He chuckled. “For thousands of years. If you can imagine that. So when they came, asking for people to fight, yes, of course I signed up. I think, really, I just wanted to travel.” “ But you had the staff.” Ward stated. “ I hated that thing. Other guys loved all the power that comes with the rage. No, I didn’t like it at all.”

He cocked his head to Ward and leant in closer.

“And you don’t, either, it seems.” “ What did it do to me?” “ It shines a light into your dark places. Doesn’t matter if you’re human, Asgardian, the effect is the same. Unpleasant.” “Shines a light” Simmons scoffed “that’s no explanation”. “It was forged from a rare metal and reacts to whoever is holding it. Or interacts.” Elliot carried on. “I went to such great lengths to make sure that the staff wasn’t found. Unfortunately, since the myth was written down, people have been searching for it for centuries.” “I need your help to stop them before they get the last piece of your staff.” Coulson said, leaning on the table. “Oh, I’m a pacifist now.” Elliot said, leaning back. "And you don’t want to risk your identity being discovered.” Coulson carried on “Listen, I wouldn’t worry too much about these angry youths. They always clam down, and eventually, they die of old age. And that is one of the pleasant aspects of life here. Everything changes. “I’ll tell you what’s gonna change, your anonymity, unless you help us find the final piece of your staff.” Coulson sighed “You may not know Thor, but I do, and he’s very fond of Agent Stark so…”. Elliot slouched on the table in front of him glaring up at Coulson, before he shrugged and sat up a bit. 

“My first love on this planet was Ireland.” He said quietly “There was a monastery and the monks gave a nice, warm place to sleep, some soup and some mulled wine.” “Near God.” Katie muttered, looking at Sky who triumphantly slammed her hand on the desk.

“I’ll go set the course for Ireland.” May said, nodding.

“Make it fast.” Katie said, as the woman looked at her. “Let’s get the rest of that damned thing before it hurts anyone else.”

*****

It wasn’t a long flight over to Ireland from Spain, but Katie took the chance to nip back to her room with the intention of calling Steve. He didn’t answer, which wasn’t surprising as he’d messaged during the night to say he had an urgent mission. She left a message informing him that she thought they’d located what they’d come for in Ireland so with a bit of luck she would be home soon. She really was missing him, it was pathetic really, not even a full 48 hours apart and she was aching for him, in more ways than one. Groaning she dropped onto her bed, trying to understand how he’d managed to turn her into such a horny, dependent wreck. She’d gone over a year without a fuck after Grant and now going 2 days was killing her. In actuality it had been longer than that, the last time they’d done it was almost 4 days ago due to work stuff meaning they had a clash of schedules. Katie found herself sighing, and her hands wandering into the front of her cat suit as she thought about how delicious that particular time had been, it was the first time Steve had been really spontaneous, taking her slightly by surprise.

Katie was busy prepping their dinner when she felt 2 strong arms circle her hips. Soft lips trailed kisses down her neck and across her jaw and she sighed, putting down the knife.

“Stop it” she giggled, “I’m trying to make us something to eat.”

He didn’t speak, and her continued protests died in her throat as his hand made its way down the front of her jeans and she felt her knees going as his fingers started their assault. Slow, deliberate strokes and flicks against her spot, over and over until she let out a loud moan as he slipped 2 fingers inside, his lips leaving hot, wet kisses all down her neck and the back of her shoulders as he pressed into her back, his arousal evident against her spine.

“You still want me to stop…” he murmured. She shook her head, her breathing was rapid now as the familiar burning hit the pit of her stomach. Suddenly Steve removed his hands from her pants and spun her round, lips crashing onto hers, his hands now on her back pinning her to his front. She kissed him back smirking slightly as she undid his jeans. Flipping the waist band of his boxers down, she took him in her hand and felt his whole body shudder slightly.

“Fuck…” he said, and then before she knew it she was out of her jeans and in his arms, his hands on each of her thighs lifting her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around him her lips still not leaving his as he backed her against the wall in the kitchen, using it to support her back. Securing her to the wall with his body, he rest his hands either side of her shoulders and locked his gaze onto hers, a storm of blue as she searched for those small spots of green in his irises. And then his right hand slid downwards to move her underwear to the side and he guided himself into her. At the feel of him, Katie tipped her head back, both of them letting out a groan as he began to gently thrust, then again, getting harder. And faster. Katie moved with him, winding her hands through his hair, tipping his head back so she could meet his lips again, between their now ragged breathing. She had no idea what had gotten into him, but whatever it was, she like this. She liked it a lot. He slid one hand up her top and into her bra, gently teasing and tweaking at her nipple and that was it. The heat in her belly began to rise, and she knew it wouldn’t be long.

“Come on baby…” he whispered into her ear and she let out a small gasp as she felt the tightening between her legs and in her lower abdomen, the muscles involuntarily spasming.

“Fuck Stevie…” and with that she surrendered, tightening her legs as her whole body gave into the wave of pleasure. She let out a strangled cry, tipping her head backwards as she zoned out.

The sight was enough to tip Steve over. “You feel so good…sweetheart…” he managed to stutter and with a final rut upwards, he felt his release too, a surge from deep within as his legs trembled and his knees almost buckled. He managed to keep hold of Katie and the pair of them slid to the floor in a tangle of limbs and clothing.

Katie lay her head back against the pillow, gasping, moving her fingers away from her now sensitive clit, her insides clenching around nothing. It wasn’t Steve, but at least it was enough to keep her satisfied for now.

Yep, Steve Rogers had a hold on her, but she loved it.

Tags

@the-omni-princess​

@momobaby227​

[novarasalas]

Second Look Review: ‘A Little Adventure’

And here begins a review series of Voltron’s season 7, written up as i re-watch it. This is equal parts as a writing exercise and as me just wanting to share my thoughts and observations.

I’ll try to go light on meta and theories, sticking to just the facts, ma’am.

Well, that’s what I intended to happen, but this episode was very personal from the start, what with all the Shiro backstory. 

So join me for this two-part review, where I switch on the projection machine and smash the overshare button.

Part 1: Laugh So You Don’t Cry

Let’s start with the easy stuff, yeah? 

It features Coran, finally going full Thornberry:

...truly gorgeous.

We also have this amazing pair here:

And, most unexpectedly, a demonstration of yalmors linking at the ears, something we haven’t heard about since season 1:

I don’t have much else to say about this part. I would, however, like to formally request a spin off of Hunk and Romelle being so, so done with everything.

Part 2: The Meeting

So hey! It’s that back story everyone’s been screaming for, and boy, does this episode deliver. I really wish it had been solely dedicated to that story, though. I’m not a fan of the high drama/humorous aside splits they keep giving us. I know they do that to keep things interesting, cause hey, rated TV-Y7, right? But I always come out the other side of it feeling like I have emotional whiplash.

First, look at this:

Thank you.

So Shiro’s a bit of a celebrity? That’s pretty cool. I’m impressed.

Too bad Keith isn’t.

He’s even in the classic “anime protagonist seat”. Oh, Keith.

The subtitles here say: Shiro broke the record for the fastest orbital velocity, beating the old heliocentric speed by about 50 kilometers per second. 

I’m a big damn nerd, so you know I had to look this up. Here’s what I found:

In 2018 though, a new NASA mission - Solar Probe Plus - will be launched. Designed to come as close as 8.5 solar radii to the Sun (that’s about about 5.9 million kilometers or 3.7 million miles), it will hit orbital velocities as high as 200 kilometers a second (450,000 miles an hour).

To just put that incredible figure into perspective - going this fast would get you from the Earth to the Moon in about ½ an hour. It is also about 0.067% the speed of light. (source: Scientific American -”The Fastest Spacecraft Ever?”)

I have no idea if they’re counting his record against something like that, or manned flight, for which the record is 107,000 km/h. That’s uh..that’s us. On Earth. We haven’t sent people into independent solar orbit yet.

Also, one day I’ll learn how to post links without breaking the tags, cause my source article was very interesting. Please go find it.

And now we have the simulator. We get that call back to “Taking Flight”, which I found to be a nice touch.

Keith, you’re the only one who could possibly fly through this.

And then Keith steals Shiro’s car and his heart, wasting no time in attempting to push him away. And he doesn’t just keep it between the two of them; Keith’s got a lot of misguided anger to share.

Nothing will endear you to your new classmates faster than signing the whole group up for a collective punishment.

But lessons are learned and everyone calms down.

..oh. Whoops.

Yes, the good ol’ collective punishment: let the jerkass’ peers sort them out. And maybe it would have worked in this case, except for the fact that Keith respects exactly no one.

When this episode first aired, I was seeing yelling about James being a bully, but to be honest, this is more of a case of two shithead kids being shitheads to each other. Keith doesn’t care how his actions affect others, and James reacted by going for a low blow about Keith’s parents.

I suppose they sorted each other out in the end, didn’t they?

So here’s Keith, the angry, lost kid, acting out in desperation and loneliness, and Shiro, who we now see risking his own good name to help him.

Why would he do that?

Now, a lot of what I come up with in the next part is my interpretation of Shiro based on my own experiences, because that’s all I have to go on. My one big gripe about this is that we don’t see Shiro until he’s a young adult. What was he like growing up? Does he try to help Keith because he’s a sweet guy, or does he relate to him in some way?

We may never really know. For my own purposes, I’m going to assume that it’s more of the latter.

Let’s look back at this interaction:

Shiro: “That’s the Calypso, the first ship to carry astronauts to the moons of Jupiter.”

Keith: “It took them three years to get there. Longest voyage of its kind.”

Shiro: “That’s right. Reading about that mission is what made me wanna be a pilot. Those astronauts braved the unknown.”

Nerd break: 

The Juno probe made it to Jupiter in 5 years, arriving in 2015.

Right now it takes 9.5 years to get to Pluto

/nerd

Keith knows about the Calypso. You might think that the tiny, emo kid doesn’t seem the type to be into nerd stuff, right?

But I get it.

I didn’t have the best time growing up, and we know that after the death of his father, neither did Keith. I had one big obsession that got me through the badness: space. Sorry, two: space and dinosaurs. And giant mech shows. Er...three big obsessions.

But space was the biggest and realest. The 90s were an exciting time for space exploration, with the Voyager probes finishing up their grand tours, the ISS being built, and the first rovers being sent to Mars. It felt good. It felt hopeful.

And I think maybe Keith may have felt the same about space. After all, space was a big unknown. By nature, it couldn’t be good or bad, right? Not like home.

Or maybe it’s because he’s half Galra and always knew that he wasn’t fully of Earth. Or maybe it was both.

I can imagine that Shiro may have thrown himself into space for similar reasons. Because you know what really sucks having deal with growing up? Chronic Illness.

Part 3: Invisible

We come to realize, right along with Keith, that Shiro is sick.

When I’d first heard about this, I was both saddened and ecstatic. It’s not often that I get to relate in any way to a strong, capable, wonderful fictional character. ‘Cool!’, I thought to myself, ‘He’s a sicko like me.’ Immediately, my next thought was ‘Damn, he’s a sicko like me…’

Then a few things about his character began to fall into place.

I think we all noticed Shiro pushing Keith into the place of leadership via the phrase “If anything ever happens to me...”. And Shiro being chronically ill explains that. I’d been wondering for a while about what Shiro’s deal could be. Why did he think something was going to happen to him? Was is just planning for every eventuality, or was it something else?

Shiro’s a great leader, so it was probably both. But him being ill puts a new perspective on things.

When you’re chronically ill, you have to think about things a lot more than other people. You have to plan heavily for ‘what ifs’, and you had better be prepared. 

Back in July, a friend and I took a trip to a con. This had been the first trip I’ve been on in years since I’ve been so damn sick. The preparation alone was exhausting. I had to make sure I had everything with me, and backups of everything just in case something happened. I had to make sure my meds and supplies were in reach if I needed them right away, but I also had to make sure that they were cool and out of the summer sun, because if they got too hot, they’d stop working.

The con was six hours away from home, and if I had needed replacements of these things, I would have to make soooo many phone calls and likely beg for help.

I had to have a conversation with my friend about what to do in case I had “an incident”. It’s humiliating; I’m a grown ass adult that has to preemptively ask people for help. Even though she’s my best friend, and I trust her so very much, it sucks.

In the end, everything was fine, but only because of careful planning. I can’t tell you how much I miss the days of just being able to go, to do, to not have to think about everything that could go wrong and possibly kill me.

So what I’m really saying here is that Shiro most likely has a lot of experience planning for eventualities. He’s also swallowed enough of his pride to discuss these things with Keith by the time the main story begins. And note: it’s only Keith he shares these things with, not the others. I don’t share these things with people who aren’t very, very close to me either.

Well, present company excluded, of course.

And here’s the part that  I go projecting onto Shiro again, but as I said previously, until they give more backstory, it’s all I have to go on.

So, what about Shiro’s family?

That’s something that’s been talked about in the fan space for a while, too. Is he an orphan? Did they disown him? Unfortunately, the flashbacks we get don’t go back that far. All I have to go on to answer that are my own experiences, which are not good.

My heart swells every time I see someone talk about how their family supports them as they deal with their illnesses. How good it is that they have love and stability to help them through.

I don’t have that. I never did. My home life sucked before I got sick, and illness certainly didn’t help.  I can say with certainty that if I had spent years in space out of contact with them, I wouldn’t be too broken up about it. There’d have been no video messages home, is what I’m saying.

I could see Shiro at this point in the flashbacks, gifted and celebrated, throwing himself at everything he could, working hard to prove that he’s worth something, proving that you’re not a lost cause just because you’re sick. I found myself wanting to prove things, too, taking on tasks and making plans and trying to show the world that I’m still useful, that I’m not lazy. See? I didn’t cause my own illness in an attempt to get out of responsibilities.

You’ll still get rejected, though.

So you learn to hide your illness from people that don’t need to know about it.

Shiro may have been like Keith: a lost, angry kid, pushing people away before they can make the decision to leave. It’s a difficult thing to grow up and only see disappointment in the eyes of the people who are supposed to be there for you. Again and again, they let you know in so many ways that you’re difficult to deal with, that somehow you’re a burden on them.

I can’t know for sure about Shiro, but I know that this is the truth for Keith. I completely understand why Keith would end up so attached to Shiro, the only person who was actually putting in a real effort to help him. I wish I’d had my own Shiro, ya know?

I can’t be all doom and gloom about this, though. I still like that one idea that Shiro was raised by his grandparents. I like to think that it was a happier time for him, as my time spent with my own grandparents was for me.

Of course, I could be completely wrong about all of this, and projecting way too much of my own problems onto him. For the sake of any alternate realities where Shiro is a real person, I hope that I am. 

Next up: Part 2 - relationships are hard -and- an appeal to societies greater sensibilities.

[herestheteaig]

What should I do??

Hi, I don’t really know if anyone will see this but I'm gonna try, just incase. If you do choose to respond, you can be as brutally honest & unbiased as you’d like, I’m not easily offended.

I am f19, and have been in a relationship with m18 for almost 6 years. For the sake of his privacy lets call him Joe.

lets call me Mina.

Backstory:

- Joe & I have been together since we were 13, we went to the same secondary school & college (for Americans, same middle school & high school)

- we had been close friends since we were like 11, very visibly super close friends in school.

- when we started dating at the end of our second year, we spent the entire summer together.

- when we got back he just... pretended I didn't exist????

- like tf?

- anyway, we were still hanging out outside of school, but my school separate the year based on grades in third year, so I was placed in X and he was placed in Y, therefore we had 0 classes together

- though, in the corridors, at lunch, at break, etc, he’d pretend I didn't exist???

- he also told me not to tell anyone we were dating???

- this lasted maybe 2 years? until I got really mad and he started acknowledging me in our final year of secondary school & people knew we were dating.

- his mum ended up convincing me to apply to the same college as him, we did different courses so rarely saw each other, but occasionally took the train together on one of our mutual starting times.

- now, I go to university about 2 hours away from our hometown and live there, he doesn’t go to university at all.

the catfish:

- of course the initial: “don’t tell anyone we’re dating”

- when I was still 13, I did something SUPER childish, though no regrets and made a fake iMessage account so he’d think someone was texting him.

- I used Loren Gray’s picture because this boy had NO social medias, he was SO anti it.

- anyway, pretended I had gotten his number on Facebook, and that I had seen him at athletics (he’s an athlete) and I thought he was attractive and asked if he had a girlfriend

- then we went through this long “no I don't” “jk I do” back and forth bullshit. 

- oh he also didn't tell me about her until I said she had messaged me, but whatever idc but that's the first piece of info. 

Sabrina:

- next, I must've been 15?? idk exactly how old I am

- I do not and have NEVER cared who my boyfriend talks to, girl, boy, non-binary, whatever, I don't give a shit. 

- so I'm on his phone, taking snapchats to save to his memories and I kept seeing this girls name pop up. 

- let’s call her Sabrina.

- I had noticed he talks to her a LOT, but he never had mentioned her, but eh its whatever... probably just one of his friends, right?

- I used to just message his friends on his phone so I went onto her chat intending to be like “heyyyy bro, nice to meet you my name is Mina, do you wanna be friends?”

- but I'm seeing messages talking about: “what age would you have sex?”

- side note: he and I both lost our virginities when we were 15, later this year but at this point we had both been “handsy” down there??? 

- anyway she says “18″, he says “you know its legal at 16 tho right?

- “yeah, but still 18″

- “why not 16″

- whatever I don't remember the entire convo.

- so I was like hmm this is a bit sus and scrolled up to see their messages. 

- “do you have a girlfriend” “no” “actually yes” “im joking, no.”

- so im like wait what???

- anyway, I don't mention it for like 7 months? he denies it before saying what he said was innocent and he was just curious in a friendly way. 

- I let it go.

Kendall:

- I was probably 16 or almost 17 at this point 

- again, for privacy, we’ll call this girl Kendall.

- Kendall and I have a mutual friend, we’ll call her Tiana.

- Tiana and I were best friends.

- One day, Tiana messaged me and said hey, my friend Kendall was speaking to  Joe & realised wait isn't that Mina’s boyfriend and sent me these screenshots as soon as she realised.

- I had probably seen her name in his recent chats but didn't care enough to ask about it.

- anyway, the screenshots were just him being super flirty with emojis? like sounds childish but you know what I mean.

- and he was joking about “go to bed its past your bed time” and she was like “no why are you chatting, you’re up too”

- then. THEN. THIS BOI HAS THE AUDACITY.

- “shush and listen to your daddy”

- wHAT.

- I immediately confront him and he denies knowing anyone of that name at first, before saying oh I didn't mean it like that, it was like a mum/ dad joke we have

- so again, I let it go

Adrien:

- back in school, my maths teacher sent myself and this boy to the study area which is an open space in the school, visible from all levels.

- lets call him Adrien.

- note: adrien and I were both quite smart and in top set for most classes, our surnames are next to eachother on the register so were often seated beside each other. 

- we were very very close FRIENDS

- so we’re doing work, chatting a bit- whatever

- at some point, he jokingly pushes my head away, idk what I said, I do not remember. 

- note: the entire school is IN CLASS.

- a few seconds later, I feel my phone vibrate, sneak it out of my pocket to see a text from Joe: “why is Adrien touching your face?”

- I look around and no ones there, anyway he still gets mad about it now.

Other stuff:

- he used to threaten to kill himself if i broke up with him

- or if we were arguing he’d say he can do this anymore, imply suicide, the leave his phone for ages and get super mad if I contacted his sister or mum to find out if he was safe.

- sometimes i’d see him joking around on his sisters snapchat story when I'm panicking because he said he’d kill himself.

- I'm not materialistic, but the fact that he rarely would get me bday/xmas presents was kinda upsetting. (he has a lot of money, my family is broke but I make the BIGGEST deal out of xmas and his bday and everything)

- would work extra hours so he’d feel so so spoiled on xmas and his bday. 

- once he got me just a xmas themed toilet roll on Christmas, last year he gave me a small jar of vegan candies.

- I think he acknowledged valentines day twice in our relationship? 

- which was sad because pre-relationship, valentines was my fave day of the year & I'd hand out heart shaped chocolates to everyone at school.

- often blames his mental health on me.

- will cut me off and then act like I'm the one not listening to HIS problems. 

- if another guy has a crush on ME, then he gets mad at me?

- every boy in my college class admitted to having a crush on me at some point, awkward but my course was reliant on group projects so I couldn't just block them??? they all knew I had a bf

Extra:

- I have never orgasmed ONCE in my entire life... rip

- when I say he is ACTUALLY jealous, I mean like ACTUALLY jealous of me having a crush on like... cartoon characters?? (& also anime characters)

- has said sexist and transphobic things, that I DRAGGED him for.

- I think he's very manipulative and also immature. 

- hates that I'm smart

- HATES that my love language is acts of service. like HATES it.

- there's more but I won't bore you.

mini story:

- we went to Paris for my 18th birthday. 

- he tried to break up with me right before because “he feels like shit compared to other guys”

- I was crying down the phone (I never ever cry) begging him to reconsider

- we went to Paris, it was nice. 

- note: we also had sex there

- and then we get back and he says: “I hated you the entire time” and other stuff but I don't remember

this is according to him:

- I think I'm right all the time and think im little miss perfect

- I put in no effort

- I do not listen

- I just need to realise that all my male friends are only my friends because they want to fuck me.

- I do not care about anything

- I assume things 

- I compare him to other guys????

- I make him feel like shit 

(his words, though I disagree)

- we have been in a relationship for almost 6 years

- he’s my friend

- I love his family so much, I've watched his nephew grow up and I text his sister and I just love them.

- though he isn’t my type on paper, I do find him attractive 

- we have somewhat similar kinks

- my family seem to like him

- not gonna lie, we’d make cute babies.

- we both enjoy sports and also he sometimes plays video games with me (I'm an avid gamer, I twitch stream and play PC, PS4 & Switch, he sometimes will play fortnite or Mario kart with me)

- we have this cute cheerleader/ athlete thing which I like

- oh, right, pls don't judge this but its important to me to raise my children plant-based until they're old enough to decide for themselves- he isn't plant-based but is 100% onboard which is very important to me.

- has done cute things for me before like turn up at my house with my fave candy or buy an extra pack of gum/ drink for me.

- this sounds irrelevant, but I DO love to party/rave but I do not drink alcohol, I actually have a weird phobia of it, though I would 100% get high

- Joe and I both do not drink and although that's not something id look for in a s/o, it made me feel like I wasn't the only one lmao. 

- my first & only relationship

ANWYAY, we’ve been arguing for months, if you see this what do you think I should do? would it be overreacting to break up? I would still wanna be his friend because I care but I dunno what to do

[rauchblauwrites]

speak each other in passing (Hogwarts AU, 6k)

Iwaizumi Hajime's seventh year at Hogwarts begins, and begins, and begins, and begins. Somehow, Oikawa Tooru is always there.

read on ao3 or continue reading here:

 i.

Hajime’s seventh year begins with a funeral for Creampuff. This would make for some serious metaphorical brink-of-adulthood nonsense, he thinks, staring down at the letter he’s holding. The weight of Oikawa’s chin on his shoulder disappears abruptly (he’s the slower reader of the two of them), accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. It’s early, just after breakfast. Matsukawa’s owl is nibbling on a piece of leftover toast, unconcerned by the impact of its message. The letter is addressed to Hajime and Oikawa both and uncharacteristically short, informing them of the passing away of a family friend and requesting their presence at the subsequent burial service.

Hajime turns to look for a quill, but Oikawa is already there, ballpoint pen in hand. He smooths the parchment out against a clean spot of the table and scribbles We’re so sorry, Makki!! Of course we’ll be there. The owl looks reluctant to abandon the last bit of toast, but takes off out the window obediently enough. Oikawa, ever quick to pick up on metaphorical meanings of all kinds, keeps his mouth set in a firm line as they clear the breakfast table.

A few hours later Hajime finds himself standing in Hanamaki-san’s flower beds, robed in black and sweating in the sweltering air of a late midsummer afternoon. The sombre planes of his friends’ bodies are outlined sharply against the bright backdrop of the garden and the bundle of white fur cradled in Hanamaki’s arms. Their gazes are directed downwards, to the rectangular hole in the ground. Its smell is sharp, too, fresh and moist and insistent.

Hanamaki crouches down and slowly lowers Creampuff’s body into the small grave. He arranges the cat’s paws carefully, until it looks just like it did sleeping on one of their four-poster beds, curled into a neat comma with its front legs crossed delicately under its head. Hajime thinks he catches the fleeting glint of the sun on a tear as it falls. Next to him, Oikawa is sobbing openly.

They each take up a handful of earth, and afterwards Matsukawa uses his wand to raise a smooth mound between the zinnias and the candytuft.

Later, they are stretched out on the lawn, black robes shed and the more forgiving light of a tired sun glinting on the neck of an empty bottle of firewhisky.

“It looks way less like an achievement when you know his mother gave it to him almost empty already”, Hajime murmurs under his breath.  

Oikawa’s laugh is just as subdued, barely an exhale. He keeps his eyes on the sky, smudged as it is with wisps of clouds tinted in orange and pink. It looks thin, almost disturbingly two-dimensional, like nothing more than a coat of colour veiled over something solid that presses down. It makes Hajime’s hands itch for his broom to measure out some of that distance, to make sure that the sky still stretches up, despite the heat and the way all things are flattened by it. On Oikawa’s cheek are the reddish imprints of individual blades of grass. Lines much like pillow creases on mornings in their dim dorm room, green velvet curtains pulled back in the unsteady light of candles and bare feet reluctant to meet the cold of a worn stone floor.

It might have been their second or third night there that Oikawa had begun to push their bedtime, lingering with stories and questions and imaginings of adventures they could have in darkened and silent corridors once they knew the castle well enough not to get lost on their way to the Charms classroom anymore. Hajime might have held back out of concern for Oikawa’s pride, or might have been too swept up in spells and greenhouses and dizzying views up high stairways to notice anything unspoken. It had been the boy called Hanamaki, in any case, who had read the signs first that night.

“Wanna sleep with Creampuff?”, he had asked Tooru, holding his fat white cat at arm’s length. It had dangled patiently from his hands, awaiting the verdict. “She’s rather old and doesn’t do much, but she likes to sleep on people.”

“You cat’s called Creampuff?”, Tooru had asked, momentarily arrested between suspicion and delight.

“I was five”, Hanamaki had said, sounding undeterred and still holding out the cat. They had been patient and silent, boy and cat, holding their position all through Tooru’s long, calculating look. When Tooru had finally wrapped his arms around Creampuff a little stiffly, none of them had missed the way his shoulders had slumped a little, instinctively hunching towards the cat’s warmth.

Tooru had still come to sleep with Hajime in the large four-poster that night, green and silver wrapped around him and one hand curled loosely into Hajime’s pyjama shirt. In the curve between his body and Hajime’s, the cat had walked a tight circle and dropped down, small vibrations steadily rippling out over the sheets. Hajime had fallen asleep feeling warm.

Oikawa swats at him half-heartedly when he recounts that anecdote out loud (“I’m not supposed to have been homesick, Iwa-chan, that’s so uncool!”), but Hanamaki rolls onto his stomach so Hajime can see his small, fond smile.

“Yeah, she was very good to sleep with. And I could always say I’ve got a pretty lady in my bed.”

“Mmmh, she was great in bed”, drawls Matsukawa, looking proud at Hanamaki’s startled giggle. “Except when she plonked down on your face in the middle of the night ‘cause now was a good time for food. Remember when she did that to Oikawa and he screamed so loud that Iwaizumi already had his wand out?”

“That was really scary, okay?” Oikawa protests, shooting upright to better convey his indignation.

“You were scary”, Hanamaki retorts. “I almost pissed myself because I thought a banshee had come into the room or something. And poor Creampuff was scared of you for a week.”

Oikawa’s face crumples. Hanamaki reaches out and ruffles his hair. “She still loved you, though, Tooru. Loved everyone.” He flops back down and heaves a sigh. “And she was so good to sleep with.”

The stories keep coming. Fifth-year Matsukawa, out cold on the floor just a couple of days before their OWLs, with the cat’s fur a bright spot on his chest, content and purring under the weight of a large hand. Second-year Oikawa, ripping strips of parchment off an unsatisfactory essay and crumpling them up to toss them, Creampuff’s eager form a flash of white in the murky room, and Oikawa’s laughter. Hajime himself, cross-legged on his bed, an unobtrusive warmth settling on his lap that anchors his eyes to the page he’s reading. The smoothing out of Hanamaki’s face when he came into the room and there was, without fail, the thump of a body onto the floor and the patter of soft feet as Creampuff padded over to greet him.

Hanamaki falls asleep facedown on the lawn after a while (having had most of both the firewhisky and the emotional involvement) and the conversation fades into silence. They remain in their tight circle, breathing in the warm summer air spiced with dust and the faint smell of tired green. There’s only a hint of relief from the night. Sweat coats Hajime’s skin where Oikawa’s arm brushes his and where his ankle is heavy across Hajime’s calf. It’s probably gross, but neither of them moves away.

 ii.

In his parents’ opinion, the school year starts on the day they receive their letters. And since this is his seventh year already, Hajime is hardly surprised when he comes down for breakfast to find Oikawa sitting in the sunniest spot at the table, chatting with his mother and absent-mindedly eating his plateful of scrambled eggs. He’s probably not even annoyed anymore, since it has become abundantly clear in their third year that Oikawa intended to make a habit out of coming for breakfast on that day so that they could open their letters together. Resistance has been pointless ever since, so Hajime has stopped trying.

He is halfway down the stairs when Oikawa looks up and gives him a cheerful wave. Startled by the movement, Hajime’s father lowers the Daily Prophet just enough to squint over the edge of it and nod at him, then disappears behind the headlines again. Apparently, something warrants a disturbingly flashy picture of a middle-aged witch who is wielding a broad smile and a basket with the biggest heads of cabbage Hajime has ever seen. It’s good to know that the world has nothing better to do.

His mother gets up to hug him, looking guilty. “Sorry, I’ll make you fresh eggs in a minute. But Tooru hadn’t eaten yet.”

“How surprising”, Hajime mutters under his breath.

Oikawa sticks out his tongue, carefully angling his head so that Hajime is the only one who can see it.

Hajime ignores him.

“You stay here, I’ll do it myself”, he says to his mother instead and turns toward the kitchen, where the carton of eggs is still sitting on the counter. Behind it, a pile of half-peeled apples guiltily springs into action. His father is kind of bad about disciplining his kitchen spells when he’s not in the same room, but at least they take anyone’s presence as some sort of incentive. On the radio, a far too energetic cook with a vaguely familiar voice is talking about roast potatoes. Hajime feels his pockets for his wand, remembers dimly that he left it on his nightstand, and begins to crack eggs to the chorus of his father turning a page and conspiratorial giggles from his mother and Oikawa.

“Both terrible in the morning”, his mother stage-whispers.

Hajime rolls his eyes at the pan, but doesn’t turn around. Usually his mother shares her mornings with the rustling of paper and a wonky radio that keeps switching between Radio 2 and the WWN whenever it deems the timing proper or prefers the music on the other channel. Now there is a happy note in her voice, the quiet joy of company, so Hajime graciously decides that the eggs need all his attention and he cannot possibly have heard anything.

“Most of the underclassmen are actually afraid to talk to him until after first period”, Oikawa supplies happily, perfectly audible over a dissonant sound effect from the kitchen shelf.

The eggs lose the battle for Hajime’s attention. Oikawa catches his glare and has the audacity to blow him a kiss. Hajime nearly drops his egg shells into the pan.

“But that’s only because they haven’t realized that Iwa-chan’s all bark and no bite.” And then he giggles again. Hajime wants to crawl back into bed and sleep for two days.

Instead, he finishes the eggs and drops onto a chair, gratefully accepting a mug of coffee from his father, and bats away Oikawa’s hand that’s reaching for the last piece of toast.

“At least leave some food for me, you filthy freeloader”, he grumbles, ignoring his mother’s tut and Oikawa’s exaggerated way of cradling his hand. “What are you even doing here?”

“Iwa-chan’s memory truly is the worst”, Oikawa sighs theatrically. “We pass this morning together every year, to help ease the painful suspen–– Iwa-chan, stop it, you brute!”

“You know the rules”, Hajime says. “Peace. Coffee.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes, but he does get up and saunter towards the kitchen, empty dishes floating after him like a trail of obedient baby geese. Hajime’s mother follows with a last shake of her head, carrying her own plate, and soon he hears Oikawa’s muffled reassurances that no, everything is fine, he’s seventeen and it’s totally fine for him to be doing the dishes during the holidays, and he’s actually quite good at household spells, he really is. They turn up the radio in the kitchen and of course it’s playing some sappy catchy song that they can both hum along to. Oikawa’s going to want an MP3 compilation of his favourite songs again and it’s giving Hajime a headache already. He never knows the titles, just starts singing random bits and then expects Hajime to google the lyrics. When his father passes him the sports section of the Prophet with a sympathetic look, he feels more grateful than is probably strictly necessary.

Before long, however, his father finishes the paper and disappears into the kitchen as well. There is a clatter as the knife probably doubles its efforts with the apples.

As if on cue, Oikawa returns soon after. He takes a seat in the chair beside Hajime and steals a sip of orange juice, all pointedly silent and with an air of overbearing indulgence. Hajime makes it through three more lines of text before the prickling in his neck becomes too uncomfortable. He turns to find Oikawa staring at him, chin in hand.

“Iwa-chan. Entertain me.”

What a brat. Hajime rolls his eyes, but complies. “The Bats smashed the Wasps yesterday.”

Oikawa huffs impatiently. “I know that already.”

“That’s all the news I have, you spoiled asshole. Unless you actually let me read, you’re not getting any more.”

Oikawa sighs again, tipping forward until his cheek is smushed against the table. He’s probably going to have toast crumbs stuck to his face. His fingers drum a restless beat on the cherry wood.

Hajime lasts five more lines before he gives up and tries to convey as much annoyance as he can by aggressively folding the paper. Given the floppy nature of the Prophet, he doesn’t get very far.

“Okay, I give in. What’s up with you today?”

Oikawa straightens immediately. Of course there is a crumb stuck to his cheek. Hajime sighs and tries not to stare at the way it moves up and down when Oikawa speaks, taking a bite out of his own toast instead.

“Today is a big day for me and I want to share it with Iwa-chan! I came over so you could witness my triumph at receiving both the Captain’s badge and the Head Boy’s badge, of course.”

“You want to gloat, is more like it”, Hajime grumbles.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full, Iwa-chan”, Oikawa chides. “It’s most unappealing.”

“No one in their right mind would make you Head Boy anyway”, Hajime continues, undeterred.

“I’ll have you know that I am not only highly respected, but also top of the year in most subjects.”

“Most subjects being Divination and Astronomy”, Hajime says drily. “Ah no, wait. Sugawara beat you in Divination last year, didn’t he? What a shame.”

Oikawa inhales sharply, but it turns into a squeak and then he’s clutching Hajime’s shoulders, leaning over him to look out of the window. “They’re coming, Iwa-chan, I can see them! They’re here!”

He smells like buttered toast, sweet and warm. The crumb is still sticking to his cheek.

Hajime shoves him off.

“You’re standing on my foot, dumbass!”

“Iwa-chan!”, Oikawa shrieks in return, eyes still glued to the window, but he at least lifts his foot. His knee stops digging into Hajime’s thigh. By now, he’s practically standing on tiptoe, balancing himself on Hajime’s shoulders and vibrating with excitement.

“You going to let me get up to open the window, or do you want to do it yourself?”, Hajime asks with mild amusement.

“I’ll do it!”

Oikawa skips over to the windows and pulls one up, cooing at the owls as they land on the sill. He talks to them, a steadily friendly flow of ask-and-answer, while he undoes the knots that fasten the letters to their legs.

“Do you want to come over to the table to have a piece of toast? I think there might still be one somewhere, if greedy Iwa-chan hasn’t eaten it all. Ah, no, I forgot. You’re always terribly busy birds, aren’t you? Lots of important tasks... Well then, I’m not keeping you. Thank you for the letters!”

He actually waves at them as they take off. When he turns back, his eyes are wide and bright and Hajime is suddenly all too keenly aware that he is probably staring.

“Iwa-chan, what’s with that face?”

“Nothing”, Hajime grunts. When Oikawa’s gaze sharpens, he adds reluctantly: “You just… looked really happy talking to the owls, or whatever.”

A confused little frown appears on Oikawa’s face. It’s an act Hajime can easily see through, but it’s still cute, damn him.

“Is Iwa-chan complimenting me?”

“Can you not say my name in every sentence like a pre-schooler? And stop weighing the letters, give mine here already.”

Oikawa hands it over with a pout and immediately tears into his own envelope, turning it upside down and shaking it until something bright falls into his hand. He shakes it again. Having opened his own envelope, Hajime watches impatience and disbelief cross Oikawa’s face as he takes out and unfolds the usual pages of reading lists and welcome-back letters. Finally he gives up, looking downright betrayed.

“It’s not there, Iwa-chan! I can’t believe the audacity—“

“Looking for this?”

Hajime smirks.

Oikawa’s eyes follow the shining piece of metal as it is tossed up and caught again, and yes, Hajime is aware that he is being a bit of an asshole – but after enduring Oikawa’s smug grins and incessant needling for days on end, he feels that he has earned that small moment of triumph.

Oikawa closes his mouth with an audible click.

“Well, congratulations, Iwa-chan!”, he sings, bright smile in place, and Hajime’s small moment is shattered. He tells himself he’s anticipated that reaction; after all, losing never comes easy to Oikawa. It still stings to see the veneer – but he can also see the care that went into constructing it, care that says Oikawa means it, wants to mean the happiness and the pride. Hajime can give him the couple of days he usually needs to make it genuine, he thinks as Oikawa drapes himself over his shoulders to peer at the letter.

“Who’s Head Girl then?”

“Michimiya Yui.”

Oikawa is quiet, his elbows sharp and heavy on Hajime’s shoulders. Hajime rolls his eyes. “She was Hufflepuff Prefect for the past two years. Do you really only know the girls from your fan club?”

“I know her”, Oikawa defends himself, flicking his hair. When Hajime narrows his eyes at him, he presses a thumb to his lips in a gesture of slow thoughtfulness.

“Well, Yui-chan is really cute! If you play it well, maybe you’ll finally get a girlfriend! Wouldn’t that be a development…”

His breath is tickling Hajime’s ear. He ducks his head away, suddenly annoyed at Oikawa’s closeness.

“I won’t even have time for a girlfriend, idiot.”

Oikawa hums.  “Just don’t think you can get out of training now, Iwa-chan. I simply cannot let my best chaser slack off because he acquired some menial administrative duties on the side.”

Hajime scoffs and finally shrugs him off. “As if I’d let you handle the team alone. Half of them don’t even listen to you.”

Oikawa draws himself up, dusting imaginary dirt from his robes. At some point, he has managed to get rid of the toast crumb. “By half you mean Kyouken-chan, who is indeed unfortunately inclined to respond better to your primitive approach than to my altogether much more sophisticated one.”

He’s quickly approaching rambling territory, so Hajime talks over him. “Besides, I want to get at Ushijima as much as you do. I’d never quit Quidditch.”

He watches Oikawa’s face change from poorly disguised worry to steely determination. His right hand, still clutching the Captain’s badge, comes up to Hajime’s shoulder. Hajime can feel the small metal lump between the heat of Oikawa’s palm and the thin cotton of his shirt. His pulse speeds up, almost as if they’re already on the field and waiting for the whistle.

Suddenly, Oikawa’s voice is how he likes it best, simple and steady and sure.

“This year, we’re going to get them for sure.”

 iii.

Oikawa insists that each new school year starts like this: with them and the old Muggle tent in the field behind their gardens, climbing in and out of the kitchen windows for snacks, and watching the stars. Their suitcases are packed; their clothes for the next day are laid out. There is nothing to do but to pull up the tent and listen to Oikawa’s hopes of maybe seeing some shooting stars tonight, although of course the peak in Perseid activity has been two weeks ago. Some years, they see a couple and Oikawa makes a big deal of wishing on them; some years they don’t see any, and Oikawa makes a big deal out of his disappointment. A doubtful glance at the overcast sky makes Hajime think that tonight will be one of the latter cases.

But Oikawa doesn’t let the weather curb his enthusiasm. He’s bustling around the tent, busily spreading out his sleeping bag and arranging trinkets: his old fold-up telescope, a book, blankets and a pillow, the glow-in-the-dark ghost gummies that Hajime will probably transfigure into alien heads later, all neatly lined up by his pillow.

“You’re letting the cold in”, he scolds over his shoulder, and Hajime lets the tent flap fall down and shuffles backwards. The tent is technically composed for two, but it’s a tight fit navigating around Oikawa’s activities now that they’re not kids anymore.

“I don’t know why we still do this every year. It’s cramped and uncomfortable, and you always get cold”, he complains half-heartedly, sitting back on his own sleeping bag. His neck is already starting to feel weird. Maybe he’s getting old.

“You mispronounced ‘beloved tradition’, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa gives the tent an affectionate pat.

Hajime ignores him. “We could at least use a normal tent. You know, one with actual heating, so you don’t complain half the night and then steal all the blankets.”

Oikawa sniffs. “Don’t pretend cuddling with my magnificent self isn’t the highlight of these nights.”

Hajime chucks one of the sour gummies at him.

Oikawa tries to catch it with his mouth and overbalances, grabbing onto Hajime’s shoulders and sending them both toppling to the ground. The sour gummy bounces off the canvas and lands somewhere near the wall. Oikawa, of course, doesn’t think it necessary to sit up before he starts rooting around for it, all the while berating Hajime for throwing food, what is he, a barbarian? They end up in an awkward sort of half-hug, with Oikawa’s weight mostly on Hajime’s chest and both of his hands occupied with locating the candy. It’s kind of difficult to breathe, but Oikawa doesn’t acknowledge Hajime’s plight. He simply pushes himself up with a small ha! sound, waving the gummy ghost that is emitting a sad green glow, and then flops back down, chewing triumphantly. Hajime wheezes and tries to shove him away.

“Fuck off, you’re heavy.”

Oikawa clings to him, making himself purposefully heavier. “The great Oikawa-san will happily grant your ridiculous request once it is properly articulated.”

“Properly articulated, my ass!”

“That’s about the opposite of what I meant”, Oikawa starts to say – or at least Hajime guesses that’s what he was going to say, because it breaks off into a high-pitched shriek when Hajime digs his fingers into Oikawa’s sides. From there on it’s easy to flip them over and sit on Oikawa’s flailing legs, tickling him until he’s teary-eyed and gasping for mercy.

Hajime complies, sitting back on his heels to let Oikawa catch his breath. In the sudden silence falls the pitter-patter of fat raindrops, the hollow sounds of their individual impacts, the whispering of slow liquid on canvas, and after a heartbeat or two, the rush of rain proper, all sounds faster and indistinguishable.

“I’m sorry”, Hajime says softly, expecting dejection.

But Oikawa is sitting up with a smile that’s equal parts secretive and proud, and stretches to pull his wand from behind his pillow.

“Worry not, Iwa-chan, I have us aaaall covered!”, he sings happily and flops down on his back, nestling into the blankets, before he drags Hajime down after him. “Come on, come on, make yourself comfortable. And then close your eyes!”

His own eyes are gleaming a bit too much. It makes Hajime feel a little on edge.

“That sounds pretty ominous”, he says, squinting.

Oikawa pouts. “Don’t you trust me?”

His fringe has fallen back from his forehead in some sort of wispy cloud. It looks ridiculous. If Oikawa knew, he’d smooth it out immediately.

With a defeated sigh, Hajime closes his eyes.

The rain is there immediately, steady and insistent. He feels strangely exposed, motionless on his back with Oikawa’s warmth next to him, his excitement coiled into a thrumming energy that Hajime can almost sense. It smells like the tent always smells, a little like damp canvas and old socks, and a lot like Oikawa’s air freshener spells (“It’s pine needles, Iwa-chan!”). There’s a bit of movement from Oikawa’s wand hand, a swish of air and a miniature change of posture that brings his shoulder to rest against Hajime’s, and a murmured spell that Hajime hasn’t heard before. A beat of silence then.

“Okay”, says Oikawa, sounding eager.

Hajime opens his eyes – and gapes. A cloudless night sky is thrown over the canvas walls of the tent, silent and inky and littered with stars.

He turns his head to find Oikawa peeking at him. He looks away quickly when their eyes meet, face flushed and pleased.

“That is really advanced magic”, Hajime says, slowly.

“I used it for my astronomy assignments all the time last year”, Oikawa murmurs, eyes on the stars he’s conjured. “It’s only the basis for the one in the Great Hall; no clouds, no weather at all. We’re going to learn it in class this year, so it can’t be that difficult – I bet even you could do it.”

Oikawa only beat him by two points in their last Charms exam; but Hajime doesn’t feel like rising to the bait. Now that Oikawa says it, he dimly remembers seeing him raise what looked like an opaque hemisphere around himself on one or two occasions – but Hajime has never been on the inside of the charm, on his back with all the tent’s walls as a canopy. The effect is embarrassingly impressive.

Oikawa does, of course, pick up on it, perceptive bastard that he is.

“Wow, Iwa-chan”, he quips, “you’re really quiet! Have I managed to impress you in the end? Has my wondrous display woken your love for the fine art of astronomy?”

“Yeah, hold on, I’ve almost got it”, Hajime says slowly, furrowing his brow. “That bright one there… it says you’re an asshole.”

Oikawa wails and flops his entire arm over Hajime’s chest in a display of uncoordinated desperation. “That’s not even astronomy, Iwa-chan!”

Hajime laughs. “Go look for shooting stars, before you miss one.”

“You’re a dreadful heathen”, Oikawa mutters, but tugs a blanket over them and settles a pillow under his head. He burrows close, blanket drawn up to his chin, and lets out a content sigh. Hajime’s right arm is jammed uncomfortably between them, feeling clunky. He peers over at Oikawa’s face and finds it peaceful, eyes already darting across the sky he’s made, alert for movement. Hajime resigns himself to the position.

It’s not that bad after a while anyway, warm and quiet, Oikawa’s arm a comfortable weight. Hajime’s lids grow heavy. Once, he thinks he sees a shooting star, but Oikawa doesn’t move at his side, so it might just have been the way the stars blur into long streaks of light when he blinks.

He only drifts back to the surface minutes or hours later when Oikawa moves his arm with a small sound of pain. But he tucks himself back into Hajime’s side with a little huff, face buried into his shoulder, breath hot against his skin.

The sky above them remains utterly still.

 iv.

Really, perhaps, his seventh year starts like this: on the platform with soot in the air and the shrieks of an annoyed owl somewhere to their left, and with Oikawa clinging to his back and whining into his ear about how Hajime is going to cold-heartedly abandon him on the train. He is only temporarily stunned into blessed silence by the arrival of their friends, or rather, by Hanamaki’s voice, just about loud enough that everyone in their vicinity stops to listen.

“What’s this, Oikawa? Did our golden boy not get his Head Boy badge?”

Hanamaki bumps Hajime’s shoulder in passing. Matsukawa raises a lazy hand for him before his eyes fall back on Oikawa’s scandalised face. They’re both in their robes already, Matsukawa’s perpetually rumpled, Hanamaki’s oddly pristine without the cat hair on them.

“I’m shocked”, says Matsukawa.

“Appalled”, says Hanamaki.

“I’m leaving”, says Hajime.

And so he does, or plans to – stepping out of his friends’ tight huddle, he finds himself face to face with a group of girls, Michimiya Yui in their midst. A shiny new badge is pinned to her robes. All of her friends are giggling.

Yui herself looks a little uncomfortable, face set in that particular way that is supposed to convey confidence. Hajime remembers the expression from a short girl with a ponytail at their first meeting as fifth-year prefects, although it wasn’t quite so schooled back then. During the first weeks, she had always looked a little like she was doing someone else’s job and expected to be called off at any minute. Apparently, she’s still prone to doubting her competence, even after two years of leading her house and being by far the most popular prefect with the lower years of all houses.

“Hey”, Hajime says and her eyes snap up to his face. “I was just going to look for you. I guess we should go and find the new prefects.”

“I guess”, says Yui, looking relieved. “Let’s go then. See you later, everyone!”

The other girls giggle again. Behind Hajime, Oikawa is wearing his most sparkling smile. Hanamaki and Matsukawa flank him as if they hope that some of whatever constitutes his allure will extend to them if only they stand close enough. Something sour settles in his stomach.

Hajime has never looked forward to talking about rounds and schedules so much. When they have finally extricated themselves, he can still hear Oikawa’s voice behind him as they make their way to the head of the train.

“I should put both of you on the bench for insolence. I can do that, you know, as your Captain.”

“Find another Keeper who can deal with Ushijima and I’ll be worried”, Matsukawa retorts blithely, just before they’re out of earshot.

Yui shakes her head and laughs, half a step ahead of him. She has been that way in fifth year, too, always the first on the way towards what scared her most.

“You don’t doubt that they picked whoever they thought was best suited for the job, right?”, he murmurs as they pass a particularly loud group of Ravenclaw fifth years.

When she smiles at him, it’s a little less tight at the edges.

“I don’t.”

He finds their compartment in the fifth wagon, between a bunch of third-year Gryffindors and a half-open door that is spewing yellow sparks into the aisle. There’s also someone making cat noises accompanied by hysterical laughter, so Hajime guesses he can probably leave them be. He slides their own door shut behind himself with something akin to relief.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa barely look up from the magazine they’re huddled over, although Hanamaki indicates the opened bag of Every Flavour Beans between them to be common property before he turns back to point at something on a page.

Oikawa smiles at him lazily from where he’s sprawled on his back with his shoes on the plush seat cover. It makes Hajime’s fingers itch to push them off.

“Oooh, sorry, Iwa-chan, were you planning to come here again after you ditched us lowly folk?”, he drawls, stretching to occupy the last bit of free seat on his side.

“Yeah, thanks, I can sit where your head is”, Hajime says and motions to plunk himself down.

Oikawa yelps and flinches away over snickering from Matsukawa and Hanamaki. He curls up to make some space and unfolds again immediately, pillowing his head on Hajime’s thigh. Big brown eyes blink up at him innocently from under Oikawa’s fringe.

“If you want to sit on my face so badly, Iwa-chan, all you have to do is ask nicely.”

Hajime shoves him off, horribly aware of the fact that his face is probably of the same colour as the bright red bean Hanamaki is currently choking on.

“Chili flavour”, he wheezes, teary-eyed.

“Iwa-chan is such a mean little prude”, Oikawa laments from the floor between their seats. “And to think I was going to share all of my lovely, delicious chocolate frogs with you.”

“You didn’t”, Hajime says slowly, over a sudden feeling of dread.

“He did”, Matsukawa and Hanamaki exclaim in unison.

“It’s our last year, Iwa-chan. Live a little!”

Oikawa is sitting up on the floor, arms extended in a theatrical gesture. He’s holding it, head tilted with a look so hopeful it’s almost comical.

“How many?”

“Twenty-five!”

“Whoever can fit the most in their mouth gets the last one!”, Hanamaki declares.

“I can’t believe you’re all seventh-years”, Hajime says wearily.

They are eleven and alone in a compartment; a foggy September landscape racing past outside the windows, two suitcases crammed into a corner and the cage with Oikawa’s new owl balanced precariously on top. The bird is glaring daggers. As yet another chocolate frog smacks against his thigh, Hajime finds that he rather sympathises with it.

“Iwa-chan”, Oikawa says mournfully, turning over an empty container. “That was the last one. Maybe I really am cursed.”

Hajime takes in the state of their compartment, empty wrappers and discarded cards strewn everywhere, chocolate frogs leaping over the floor and seats. One of them has gotten too close to the heating unit and is leaving smeary footprints wherever it goes. Perched onto the top suitcase is another, suspiciously watched by the owl. From a card on the floor, Xavier Rastrick is cheerfully waving at Hajime. He sighs. If one of them is cursed, it’s probably not Oikawa.

“Look”, he says, grabbing a frog as it passes by his feet, “I know you think it’s cheating, but you can really have one of mine.”

“No”, says Oikawa, with emphasis. The stubborn set of his jaw would be a little more impressive without the chocolate stain in the corner of his mouth.

“You can trade it for Gulliver Pokeby; I’ve been looking for him for months now.” More or less on instinct, Hajime snatches up a second frog that has landed on the seat next to him. Maybe they can find some sort of container for them before they melt or crawl all over the rather dirty floor.

Oikawa sighs deeply, swatting at a frog on his back rest. “I know you got that one from your aunt two weeks ago, Iwa-chan. Don’t patronize me.”

Hajime shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

If Oikawa wants to be cranky on their way to Hogwarts, alone in a compartment with twenty-three chocolate frogs that no one can forbid them to eat, Hajime will give him a couple of minutes, preferably while he tries to fit an entire frog into his mouth.

Half a minute later, three things happen: the door to their compartment opens. At least four chocolate frogs make a desperate dash for freedom. There is a surprised yelp and wild flailing as two boys grope for the frogs, and then the slamming shut of the door.

“Did we get all of them?”, one of the boys asks the other, panting. He has heavy-lidded eyes and bushy brows, and he looks like he’s already outgrown his newly bought robes – there’s a sliver of ankle visible below their seam. He also has a chocolate frog in each hand and another one pressed against his chest. It will probably leave a stain.

“I have no idea”, says the other, a shortish boy with a mop of strawberry-blond hair and no eyebrows to speak of. He, too, is clutching a chocolate frog. Another one is sitting on his shoulder, tame as can be. “But on the bright side, I think we’ve found at least one new friend.”

He carefully pokes the frog on his shoulder, looking delighted when it stays where it is.

Hajime sits there, two sticky frogs in his hands and chewing on a third, and watches Oikawa smile.

They are seventeen and the September day outside is bright and brilliant, and Oikawa is upending twenty-five boxes of chocolate frogs onto his seat.

“Okay”, Hajime says, staring Hanamaki down. “Whoever can fit the most gets the last one.”

“Deal”, says Hanamaki.