#Day 342 of hiding from my friends

[dekusleftsock]

MMMMM OKAY OKAY OKAY

I’m surprised no one has talked about how interesting Izuku breaking his mask is???????? Like oh my god?????

He even comments on the fact that it’s probably useless to wear in a scene like this, since he only put it on previously to shield his face from the waves while fighting and running away from Himiko.

In fact, I could even compare this to another Himiko scene altogether!

Himiko’s broken mask.

It’s a metaphorical mask, but honestly, so is Izuku’s. In this chapter (and previous chapters, obviously) Izuku is hiding from the fact that he has… deeper than desirable feelings for Katsuki that makes him violent and hateful. He does not want to be violent or hateful, but currently, he is at such an awful state of mind (due to Katsuki’s death and then reawakening, and also partly the state of his friends and colleagues) that he can’t help doing so.

That hate and violence cannot be stuffed down deep in his bones like usual, oh no, his quirk elicits a PHYSICAL reaction. But he didn’t have a quirk before, how could he really know that this would happen? It’s like walking through daily life as a teenager, and then in your early adulthood being hit by an extreme anxiety disorder or other health conditions. With no real reason, it just happened one day! Other people have dealt with this before sure, but they had several years throughout their adolescence to figure it out, how to cope with it. And just like it’s said in the manga, it’s like everyone else is running far ahead, and you’re just starting to crawl.

And that’s what the mask is (fuck you dream 🫶🫶🤭) really for. It protects Izuku on a very emotional level. The mask is broken, chipping, dirty—yet he wears it anyway because it’s the only way he can really smile like allmight. Just like allmight found his mask, he also found his smile. It’s also probably why his first reaction to having a quirk stolen (while also strategical) is to hide hide hide in blackwhip. A bubble that hides him from Shigaraki, from Katsuki, from everyone who could see his face.

And comparing this to toga, hello?? Her masking metaphor is about MASKING AS A HETEROSEXUAL GIRL, and her breaking that mask makes her a deviant, an outcast! And here Izuku is, doing the exact same thing.

Shigaraki has danger sense now, by all means, the table has flipped—Shigaraki now knows that Izuku wants to hurt him. Izuku wants to destroy him. Danger sense doesn’t work on just anyone, it has to be coming from a place of malice (because Himiko doesn’t affect danger sense), and an urge for violence. Very Himiko trait.

AND IZUKU KNOWS THIS, HES BERATING HIMSELF, INDIRECTLY ONCE MORE—saying that he has this useless power (similar to how he berated the fish when he was mad at Katsuki in chapter 1), comments on how the mask is broken and that allmight found him that mask, and he even holds this disappointed look on his face.

THIS is the weight I was talking about. This. The berating, the indirect hatred, because Izuku hates. He hates people and things just like Shigaraki does. That’s why danger sense was the only power shigaraki should have taken, it’s the literal power to feel who is loving and who is hating.

AND OF COURSE WE HAVE THE THROWBACK CHAPTER TO 342 OH MY GOD

The fact that Izuku has to say, “you’re a person”, ITS SO DAMN BEAUTIFUL YALL IM DEAD

Oh also! Izuku having matching blood falling over the other half of his face is just too fitting.

To me, with this whole chapter, Izuku and Katsuki, the parallels Katsuki had to ochako last chapter (the falling on the ground, passing out because “it’s getting cold”), it’s just given me a lot to think about.

And I’ve thought and paced and I really really hope I can describe what I’ve been thinking.

Pikahlua (or however their name is spelled, sorry!) translated the text on top of ochako as “Im still not sure what was obvious to that person”. These are the rough translations which is good to keep in mind, but there’s a few ideas I’ve had floating around from that line.

I went back and read 342, Ochako is ofc looking out into the city, calling herself an oddball, even saying she feels like she doesn’t know anything about Toga; if, and this is a big if, but… if this is Izuku thinking about Ochako, then that makes this line far more interesting.

What was obvious to her? A couple of possibilities—possibly understanding that she doesn’t really know Himiko, maybe it’s the fact that Ochako is so openly ready to accept Himiko (unlike Izuku for shigaraki, though this doesn’t apply to Katsuki. Showing Izuku is capable of feeling long term resentment for someone who wronged him, so long as that person doesn’t just wrong him, izuku), or maybe, it was the fact that she was so openly ready to say that she was weird, an oddball (a queer trope for coding characters, “she’s just so weird about that girl”, “I feel like I don’t really fit in”, or “I feel like the way I think of this same sex character—regardless of contextual status such as being a villain or an arch enemy—is wrong, and I should be condemned.”)

Though this could also be Ochako talking about Himiko that wasn’t directly said/shown in that scene, “I’m still not sure what was so obvious to Himiko about me.” (Though personally I find this harder to believe since this isn’t a panel directly taken from the chapter, rather a redraw from Izuku’s perspective. The drawing even makes her look taller than Izuku, which is interesting. Maybe he thinks that she’s better than him, morally)

And if we take Izuku’s comment of “You’re a person” then that furthers my belief that these are thoughts ABOUT ochako. Maybe the “obviousness” was the seeing the villain as a person. She EVEN TELLS HIM that she was thinking of Himiko during her speech about how Izuku is still human to the civilians. Maybe that speech was never about Ochako to Izuku, maybe it was ALWAYS ABOUT HIMIKO.

And ntm, this is another case of Izuku projecting onto someone else; not only is this a declaration to Shigaraki, “You’re still a person (that’s why I know I’m going to save you)!” But it’s also a declaration to himself, a motivator, a reminder that Ochako made to him during her speech, in Katsuki’s apology, and from allmight during his vigilante arc.

“You’re still a person (Izuku).”

The same declaration he made to the fish in the first chapter, to Shoto during the sports festival, and to Katsuki during dvk1.

“I matter.”

And it’s this that truly makes all of this so ironic—izuku speaking for himself, projecting onto shigaraki… honestly they feel the same way about hero society. The only reason Izuku can and does relate to Shigaraki is that he also feels cast away, no adults to reach out to as a kid, therefore making decisions on morality and bias that he mostly made on his own. Not only that, but Izuku has been the boy that was not seen as human. He has been the one to be isolated and shamed for being dirty and looking like a villain.

That’s honestly probably why he agreed with Ochako at all—he saw the little boy Shigaraki once was in ofa yes, but he’s also been an isolated and dehumanized teenager at UA. What if what Izuku was thanking Ochako for wasn’t actually standing up to the people and the speech she gave to him, but that she was able to truly open his eyes, see the bigger picture. Save Shigaraki.

Do I think shigaraki and dekus relationship and ideas of relatability are vastly different from togachako AND dabi + shoto ideas? Yes. Extremely so. Shoto and Ochako don’t and never really did hate Himiko or Touya. Obviously, to an extent Izuku does. Ntm, Shoto and Ochako brought up their conversations about their respective villains on their own, professing their insecurities and doubts, unlike Izuku who only expresses that he relates to them.

Maybe this anger and hatred came more recently, after seeing Katsuki’s death, but I have a feeling it more has to do with a built up grudge of Shigaraki targeting Katsuki.

Regardless of all of this, I see something bigger; when Izuku breaks his mask, he smiles. Genuinely smiles. Not his bright allmight smile, but he smiles regardless on that last page. It hurts and it takes a lot of power to push it, but it happens anyway.

This is the first time I’ve seen Izuku happy, or at the very least motivated, since seeing Katsuki dead. Even when Katsuki woke up, he still looks heart broken.

But the mask is gone. He’s free. Just like Himiko was free, so is Izuku.

And I thought for just a second that he would cover himself up another way, but he didn’t. He got up and he said “You’re still human” And smiled at him like the badass he is (yes I can compliment him, I promise. He’s my favorite character for a reason, I also just wanna kick him in the balls 24/7 for being so dumb).

And what did Himiko do when the mask broke?

She gave in.

She was free.

She let the world know, “this is who I am, take it or leave it.”

And I know, in my heart, that this is what Izuku will do too.

Yk how I mentioned earlier that this was a parallel to this?

I mean that, down to the fact that Ochako is calling Himiko by her first name.

Will Izuku try to give his life to Katsuki? I doubt it, he can’t do much in the medical sense.

However, do I see a shared moment similar to this? Maybe.

Okay all I’m saying is that it’s undeniably canon atp. Like I’m gonna wait for some kind of confession or kiss (bc yes I still believe that will happen, I am in that camp and you couldn’t drag me out unless I was cold and dead on the ground), but Himiko literally says she loves Ochako multiple times, INCLUDING is 395, so like. Idk what else you want. It’s this. We did it. Horikoshi you bastard.

[thehusbandoden]

Bakugo Katsuki (19)

Key: angst -💔; fluff -🤍; comfort -❤️‍🩹; angst to fluff -🧡; crack -💜; slight angst -🩵; Fan fav -❤️‍🔥

Fanfictions

A sneak peak to both a fantasy and forbidden love fanfic

Drabbles

I Love You 💔🧡❤️‍🩹

You and Bakugo get into an argument, and after realizing what a hard time you're having, Bakugo apologizes. | posted: 5/23/23

Clingy🤍🩵

Clingy Bakugo. | 1,020 words | posted: 7/24/2023

"Hold me?" 🤍❤️‍🩹🩵

Bakugo wakes up from a nightmare and seeks one thing, and one thing only. You. | 522 words | posted: 9/14/2023

My Firecracker 🤍💜❤️‍🩹

Bakugo finds out you're sick but has been hiding it from him. And now he has to cuddle you to make you better. (Doctor Kirishima's orders) | 405 words \\ posted: 11/14/2023

Ice Cream Thief 🤍💜❤️‍🩹

You are having a terrible time. Your baby kept you awake all night kicking, you stubbed your foot on the stupid nightstand, and Bakugo has been working almost twenty-four-seven. The one thing you’ve been craving all month is ice cream... but you come out to find it eaten. With the carton still. In. The. Fridge. | 312 words \\ pregnant fem reader \\ posted: 03/15/24

Lashing Out

Bakugou gets home from a crappy day at work and lashes out at you, his beloved wifey. | wc: 1,270 \\ fem reader \\ posted: 3/19/24

"Imoto"

Bakugo, your best friend, helps you score the boy you've been crushing on.. little do you know that he's tearing his heart apart in the process. | 400+ words \\ female reader \\ posted: 04/08/24

"Imoto" alt ending

Alternative ending, Izuku rejects you, leaving Bakugo to comfort you. | 342 words \\ female reader \\ posted: 04/08/24

Headcannons/Scenarios

MHA boys reacting to you torturing an Endeavor plushy 🤍💜

Simply that my friends. Enjoy the chaos. | posted: 5/20/2023

You don't say ily back 🤍💜🩵

You're gonna be murdered by some, and break the others. Choose your poison. | posted: 5/25/2023

You flinch during an argument 💔 🧡❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

Self explanatory <3 | posted: 8/10/2023

Comforting their exhausted s/o 🤍💜

Self explanatory<3 | posted: 9/27/23

Pregnant Reader 🤍 (requested)

Self explanatory<3 | 508 words \\ posted: 12/05/2023

Comforting Claustrophobia Reader Part Two 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory<3 | 455 words \\ posted: 12/07/2023 \\ requested

Christmas Headcannons 🤍

Self explanatory<3 | posted: 12/25/2023

Alpha!Bakugo Katsuki x Female!Omega!Reader Headcannons 🤍❤️‍🩹

Self explanatory<3 | posted: 03/13/24

When You're Sick 🤍 ❤️‍🩹

Self explanatory<3 | posted 03/27/24 \\ 313 words

Incorrect Quotes

Two Plus Two | posted: 5/19/2023

~~~~~

Main Masterlist | Requesting Rules

And more yet to come!

Last added to: 04/08/24

Reblogs help spread and therefore support my work but any support is appreciated <33

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

[ivorydragoness44]

Gazerbeam / Simon J. Paladino x Reader: Boring

Word Count: 342 Summary: Simon, a.k.a. Gazerbeam, asks the Reader if they find him boring and awaits their reply. Warnings/Notes: Very light angst, maybe. The Reader’s disbelief turns into reassurance and praise. Fluff. Established relationship.

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

  A bustling metropolis and an array of apartment buildings, and yet, a quiet night. It was not necessarily something rare to have at home, though enjoyable. The company that came with it, however, was a rarity some nights.   Usually the crime fighting, heroically super-powered and form fitting, suit wearing Gazerbeam, Simon sat beside you on the couch. He occupied himself with a book that he had been wanting to continue reading, but found it a little difficult to do so over the course of the past week. Some times he had quite a busy schedule. Both for superhero duties and work in general.

  “Love?” He asked, gaining your attention away from the grocery list you were writing currently. “Do you find me boring?”   You froze at the collection of words before your head nearly whipped to the side. You honestly could not believe your ears. Were you truly hearing such a question from your dear friend and partner?   “No,” you shook your head. “Of course not, Simon. Have you forgotten how many times you’ve made me laugh? Why would you think such a thing? Is this about your voice or… what you talk about from day to day? Because, quite frankly, you sound amazing to me.”   His eyebrows furrowed, hiding behind the rim of his glasses. “Amazing?” He asked in his curious surprise.   “Yes,” you smiled. “I…I didn’t want to overwhelm you right now by saying sexy. However, both are correct.”   Speechless, Simon set the book down on his lap. Looking around the room, there was no interest in his eyes at any object. Perhaps your words, two simple descriptors, really did boggle his mind.   As he placed a thoughtful hand to his chin, you giggled.   “See what I mean?” Reaching over, you took up his face gently into your hands. “I could always give you a new nickname, you know.”   Simon smiled, his gaze holding yours for nearly a full moment. “I think that would be hardly necessary.”   “All right,” you said in conclusion, pressing kisses along his face.

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

A short little read, but a Gazerbeam fanfiction nevertheless!

If you'd like to read more, check out my pinned post on my blog, my Masterlist of Masterlists for more fanfictions and imagines.

[whump-side]

I posted 156 times in 2022

63 posts created (40%)

93 posts reblogged (60%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 147 of my posts in 2022

Only 6% of my posts had no tags

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Longest Tag: 96 characters

#so my only way to go back to my fav whump moment was either to borrow the manga from the library

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Everyone loves some good ol' riding double on a horse with injured whumpee; what about a modern take on the trope with whumpee slumped against their friend on the back of a motorcycle? I can picture your secret agent characters making their escape that way after a mission gone wrong

Yes, yes, yes !!! Now I need to draw that! Thanks for the idea Anon !! :D

101 notes - Posted July 5, 2022

#4

I was thinking about the hidden injury trope lately and you know what's equally good? The opposite of that: Whumpee being open and honest about their injuries. They're aware they're gonna need to bother Caretaker, but they also know that dealing with their injuries on their own is a bad idea. If things get worse, it's gonna make Caretaker's job more complicated eventually.

106 notes - Posted June 13, 2022

#3

When the weather gets colder, Birb people migrate to their secondary home in a warmer place. But due to Birb's condition and the fact he's still in hiding, they have to stay in Caretaker's primary home. Birb's immune system isn't what used to be after what he's been through. He often gets sick, especially now that it gets cold outside. While it's nothing too serious, being sick is never a pleasant experience for Birb, but thankfully for him, he has always Caretaker by his side.

213 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

#2

FEBUWHUMP 2022 DAY 13: won’t regain consciousness

342 notes - Posted February 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Everything is alright now

588 notes - Posted March 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[xoxo-teddybear]

What Have I Done? - Bakugou Katsuki- pt.2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of suicidal thoughts, fluff, insane behavior, nsfw, noncon! Dubcon!, murder, stalking, abusive behavior, yandere!Bakugou, cursing, blood, lowkey kinda slow burn (meaning the beginning is a little boring BUT IT GETS GOOD I SWEAR😭)

Ep. Warnings: Angst, hitting, cursing, stalking, kidnapping, murder

Summary: It’s been awhile since you’ve left him. Two months actually but it was two months too long. Katsuki was slowly going insane and I guess you could say he officially has because he’s officially snapped. You become his main target, his number one priority, his entire being even though you’re trying to leave him. But Katsuki won’t let you. You’re his..and in the words of Bakugou Katsuki..you always will be.

A/N: ....I made it a yandere story y’all. OH SHI-

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Chapter 1

Twitch, twitch, twitch. That’s all Katsuki’s body been doing. Either his eyes or his fingers, his body is uncomfortably moving. Shit doesn’t feel right for him. And he knows exactly why. You left him.

The first week was horrible. All Katsuki did was cry. He even kept his destroyed home in shambles because he couldn’t find the motivation to do anything. If it wasn’t for Kirishima, Katsuki would have starved himself to death. The second week was just as bad. Nothing but a crying baby being taken care of by his best friend.

The third week is when Katsuki become a drunkard. He made Kirishima and the boys of the Bakusquad constantly take him out whenever. As long as the place served alcohol, he would go. He would go and drink himself to sleep. While he was intoxicated he would cry about how he misses you and how he was a terrible husband. He always said you deserved better but he was too in love with you to let you go. The 4th week was pretty much the same.

After a whole month without you, Katsuki threw himself into depression. For the entirety of the second month, he locked himself within the walls of his home. Thankfully, it was now considered a home environment once again after his dear friends cleaned the place up for him. Katsuki stayed inside all day, drank his soul away every night, and sobbed constantly. Constantly regretting how he neglected you, how he mistreated you, and how he hurt you. He doesn’t even know how he even brought himself to do that. Even though he’s been alone for almost 2 months, he still had hope that you would come back. That things would go back to normal and he would be a better husband to you, just like he promised.

Katsuki felt himself going mad and slipping away, but what pulled the trigger was what Kirishima brought to him on the 6th week.

—

Flashback

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?”

Katsuki looked down at the papers in his hands. Kirishima had walked in with a nervous and sad look on his face when he gave Katsuki the papers you had the red head deliver. “Sorry man...”

Katsuki shook as he stared at the divorce papers with wide eyes. He saw you already signed it and all the paper needed was his signature. His face grew dark as something in his mind snapped. Katsuki turned to his friend and instructed him to get out of his home.

“What? Man are you alright?” Kirishima said. He walked to his best friend and when he reached a hand out for him, Katsuki pulled on his arm and pushed him out the door. He slammed it shut and locked it as he looked at the papers.

A scary smile grew on the man’s face. His eyes grew crazy as he laughed maniacally. Hysterically. As if what he held was the most hilarious thing in the world. His palms began to spark as he used his quirk to destroyed the papers. The quick blast made his hair floof around a bit and when it was over, a pile of ashes lay at his feet.

“She-....she thinks she can leave me?” Bakugou began to walk to the framed picture on the coffee table. He picked up the picture of you both on your last anniversary and ran his finger over the image of you. “Poor Princess....you can’t leave me. You need me. Just as much as I need you. I mean..hehe...look at what I mess I’ve been. I can only assume you must be worse. But it’s okay, love...I’ll find you soon enough..and I’ll help you feel better,” he walked to his bedroom and layed down on the soft mattress as he held the frame close to his chest as he stared sinisterly at the ceiling, “and we’ll never be apart again.”

—

The 7th week was when it began. Katsuki took some time off of work. He was gonna be too busy for hero work. He had something much more important to do. He had to bring you home.

Katsuki spent the 7th week looking for information on you. He was up 24/7 reading all he can, talking to as many people as he can, and doing all the digging he could until he found you. Unfortunately for him but luckily for you, he found nothing. It pissed him off. How could you have completely erased your existence? Did you just go into hiding or was he not searching hard enough.

This time, the luck switched. Katsuki was just walking to the store when he looked to the far side and saw you in a cab. He had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t mistaken but after a good glance and taking a picture for confirmation, he knew it was you. His body almost betrayed him as he almost went in to run after you but luckily his brain stopped him. He had to think. Katsuki hid in an alleyway nearby as he watched you from the side. When the driver continued down the road, that’s when he began to follow you. He used his hero training and quirk to keep up with the car. He followed you for miles until the cab finally stopped at some hotel. He watched you walk in and decided this was far enough.

He knew where you were now. He could wait a little longer before snatching you up. If he did it now in broad daylight, chaos would break out. He had to wait for the perfect moment to get you back. He was okay with waiting. He knew where you’ve been staying, how to get there, and knew what time you got back from wherever that cab picked you up. And then it hit him. The cab.

Katsuki went back to look at the picture he took of you in the cab and checked the license plate. With this information, he went home to find where the vehicle was.

Katsuki busted the door open to his home and ran straight to his in-home office. He went to log onto his work laptop that he used for hero work. The laptop contained the tools and websites that would allow him to find the cab. He finally reached the site he was looking for and went back to the picture. There, he typed in the license plate number.

“よ 57-342” he whispered aloud. Finally, he located the vehicle and went to find it. Katsuki followed the location until he found the house where the driver stayed. He waited in hiding, hoping someone would come out and hoped that the someone would be the driver. He waited and waited until finally, after almost 2 hours of waiting, a man came out. Katsuki quickly pulled up the picture and made sure it was the same person who was driving you, and to his luck, it was.

He quickly ran to the driver before he could get into the cab and pulled him into a dark corner. He slammed the man up against the wall and pulled up a picture of you. “Listen! You dropped this girl off at a hotel, I need to know where you picked her up! Tell me! Now!”

“W-whoa!” The driver exclaimed as he took notice of Katsuki’s identity. “Y-you’re Dynamight!”

Katsuki sucked his teeth at the fact that this guy knew who he was but then again, he wasn’t surprised. He was the number 2 hero after all. “Yeah! I am! Now tell me where you picked up my wife you dog-faced loser!” He screamed.

“Y-you’re wife??” The man looked at the picture and recognized you and the name you gave him. “Oh! M-Miss Y/N! Yes! Uh-..uh- I- she- I- ..I picked her up from a gym!” The man exclaimed.

“What gym?! Tell me!!!” Bakugou shouted at the man.

“I-I’m sorry! I don’t know if I can! She- she said she got divorced so how can I trust you’re her husband?!” The man shouted in fear.

“Are you calling me a liar?! I’m a fucking pro-hero! Why would I pull some bullshit like that! Tell me where my wife was! What?! Gym?!” Bakugou screamed once more. In fear, the man gave Katsuki the information he needed.

“Hosu Gym!” The man shook and Bakugou stared for a minute to scare the poor guy before dropping him to the ground. As he walked away, the man spoke up once more. “D-Dynamight, sir. I-If miss Y/N doesn’t want to see you..and you’re forcing information out of people..I’ll have to tell the authorities..sir.”

“You’re not gonna do a damn thing. You hear me?!” The pro screamed. Bakugou side eyed the man as he watched the driver get up from the ground.

“Sir. From the small conversation we had in the car, Miss Y/N said she was divorced-“

“We aren’t divorced!!” Bakugou said as he made a random explosion to intimidate the man. “We are still together, and she is still my wife, and none of this is any of your business!” Bakugou began to walk away but heard the driver grumble something under his breath that triggered something in his brain.

“I can see why she left a crazed man like you...” the driver mumbled. Katsuki quickly snapped his body to face the man and jumped on him. His burning hand found it’s way around the man’s neck and began to squeeze.

“The hell did you say?! You’re gonna wish you never said that you fucking fool, cuz now those are gonna be your last words!” Bakugou said before he activated an explosion and killed the man. Katsuki took deep breaths before realizing what he did and for some reason, he felt no remorse. And he knows why.

“That idiot should’ve known better than to talk about me and Y/N like that...s’his own fault he died.” Bakugou said before walking away from the gruesome scene. He acted like nothing happened as he made his way to Hosu Gym. He just needed to know what time your got there and when. Then, he could finally go home before continuing his plan for the next day.

—

The blonde decided to wait for some time before he went into the building. It was getting dark and so the gym would be closing soon. He waited and waited until finally, the place was empty. Empty except for the man who worked at the front desk.

Katsuki slipped in right before closing and hid himself in the locker room. He waited 10 minutes before going out and finding the one employee he saw. After exploring the area, Katsuki found the man sitting on a bench. He snuck up behind him, and pounced. He covered the man’s mouth as he tugged him into the back room. Once inside, The blonde threw the man in and locked the door to prevent anyone getting in or out.

“W-What is going on? D-Dynamight, what is happening?” The employee asked in fear. He assumed a threat was going on or some trouble was taking place outside of the gym. He had no idea the trouble was standing right in front of him.

“I need you to tell me when this lady came in.” Bakugou said and pulled up a picture of you. The man looked at the picture and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize-“

“YOU WILL! This woman came in here today and I need to know what time! TELL ME!” Bakugou screamed as he lit sparks in his palm. The man shook in fear at the hero’s booming voice and began to look harder. After a minute, he finally spoke.

“I- I remember. She came in hours ago! Sometime around 12 to 2!” The man said in hopes the yelling would stop. It didn’t.

“ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?! There’s a huge space in between! I need to know exactly what time she came in! Don’t you morons have a sign in?!” Bakugou screamed.

“We do! We do sir!” The man nodded his head in fear. Bakugou huffed before walking over to him and dragging him by his collar to seat him on the chair in front of the computer.

“Then get into your data base and FIND MY WIFE!” The blonde screamed. The worker nodded frantically before getting right into it. Bakugou watched his every move and the computer. He kept a sparkling hand right next to the man’s head to keep him intimidated as he worked. Eventually, Bakugou saw your profile picture on the screen when the man scrolled down. “Stop. Her. Check what time she came in.”

The man read the drafts and spoke. “1:30 p.m.”

Bakugou nodded before walking to the door and unlocking it. He turned to the trembling man and gave a quick warning with a sinister smile. “If I ever find out that you told anybody, even your own damn friends or family, about what happened tonight, I won’t hesitate to come back and kill you. Am I clear?”

The man gave a quick and jittery “y-yes sir!” As he watched the pro-hero leave the room. Once Bakugou was gone, the man let out a breath of relief and allowed the few tears he was holding back to fall. Bakugou Katsuki definitely struck fear into those of the lives he met.

With this simple information, Bakugou smirked as he walked out the gym doors. He knows where you live, what gym you go to, what day you go, and what time you arrive. You were always a very punctual person. You had a schedule and you followed it through and through. He completely trusted the fact that when he came back here next week, he would be sure to see you. All he had to do now was wait 7 days.

—

7 days have passed and Katsuki was waiting for your presence in the gym. After finding out you arrived at 1:30, he showed up almost an hour earlier at 12 just in case. He waited and waited for you to show. He was almost out of patience, but after seeing that it was only 1:00, he settled the slightest bit. It wasn’t until he took notice of a familiar figure at the desk.

The man Katsuki had threaten nights ago was shivering and shaking in his boots as he greeted people at the door. He was aware that the pro hero was in the building and after the incident of what went down that night, he was definitely scared for his life. Bakugou began to walk to the man and said man could feel a scary aura coming around. When he turned, he was greeted with the sight of a smirking Katsuki.

“Hey friend,” Bakugou said with his hands in his pockets.

The man jumped at the sound of his voice and his scary presence made his eyes teary. “H-Hello Dynamight.”

“Thought I’d just come by to warn you again. When Y/N walks through those doors, don’t you fucking dare try telling her about me or my presence here. Got that.....” Katsuki said looking down at the man’s name tag. “Hiro Itadori? ‘Cuz if you do, your body goes boom. Understand?”

“Y-Yes Sir!” Hiro said as he looked to the ground with wide eyes as he felt himself break into a cold sweat. Bakugou patted the man’s back, causing him to flinch but when the hero walked away right after, Hiro calmed down. Unfortunately, that only lasted for about a second before you walked in.

“Hello Hiro!” You joyfully said. Your voice reached the ears of your ex-husband. Or more so, your “supposed to be” ex-husband. His ears perked up and he smirked as he hid behind a corner wall, taking the view of you in.

“Y/N.” He whispered to himself. He smiled and a blush bloomed on his porcelain skin as he admired you from afar. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. If anything, your looks seemed to have only gotten better. He watched as the man nervously greeted you and allowed you to go through with your workout. Katsuki smirked as he knew the man gave no hint at him being there, and so he would be able to watch you in peace.

Katsuki wasn’t there to keep tabs on your workout and what exercises you did. He was there just to watch you. Of course, while doing so, he admired you, but he was there to gain selfish intel. He watched you from start to end. Once you finished he followed you to your next location. It was still early and so it was safe to assume you weren’t heading to bed yet. He followed you back to your hotel and waited in another area until you walked out again. Sure enough, you did.

For the rest of the day, Bakugou followed and stalked your every move. He watched where you work, where you spent your free time, he followed you to the new cafe you seemed to enjoy, and then he followed you back to your hotel. Instead of waiting in another area and watching from afar, Bakugou climbed the side of the building and watched you from your hotel balcony through the glass door. He payed attention to your every move and noted what time you went to bed. Satisfied with the day’s revelations, he went back to his own home.

Knowing this information, Katsuki was able to sleep a little more peacefully. For the next few weeks, Katsuki followed this procedure. He became a full time stalker, even going so far as to call out of work for some time to put his full attention in you. He watched you like a hawk. He took note of everywhere you went, where you ate, who you spoke to, and what you did. All of it became engraved into his brain.

Now, Katsuki stood at your balcony for the umpteenth time as he stared at your sleeping form. It was deep into the night and with the moonlight on his back, he found enough courage and craze to open the door. He walked in quietly and shut the door, blocking the chilly air from seeping in to awaken your unconscious state. He approached your bed and crouched down to meet your face.

“Still as perfect as ever,” he whispered as he removed a few strands of hair out of your face. His touch didn’t seem to startle you and Katsuki took it as your body naturally indulging in his familiar touch. He blushed at the feeling of your oh so soft skin as his fingertips grazed your pillowy cheeks. His hand finally cupped the side of your face as his thumb drew circles along your skin. Your head unconsciously nuzzled into his warmth like it used to and Katsuki couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry Teddy Bear...I’ll bring you home soon.”

With that, Katsuki leaned down and softly placed a kiss on your lips. This was the lightest kiss he ever bestowed upon you. The pressure and weight was similar to a feather and the blonde struggled to restrain himself once he came in contact. He craved more but his mind knew better. Reluctantly, he pulled away and removed his hand from your face. He walked away, back to the balcony to take his leave but not before turning to look back at you. “Real soon.”

—

You woke up to a sense of familiarity in your room. Although you were alone, you could’ve sworn there was this chilling presence. It was faint but it was there. Taking in a breath and looking around at your surroundings, you reluctantly got out of bed and got ready for the day.

You did the usual. Got ready, got dressed, had breakfast, and went about your day. You went to the market to picked up a few things and ended up staying much longer than you liked. You walked in during daylight and came out when the sun was setting. You sighed in disappointment.

“Guess I can skip the gym this one time. I might as well get back home, read a book or two..” you went on talking to yourself about your schedule. You walked with the groceries in hand as you enjoyed the scenery on your way back, however, even with the shining sun creating it’s golden hour with a beautiful purple sky, you couldn’t help but feel wary of the stillness in the wind.

—

‘Where the fuck is she?!’ Bakugou thought to himself. He waited at the gym all damn day. He waited and waited to see your beautiful face but you never showed. If he had known that you would’ve skipped out on the gym today he wouldn’t have came here and wasted his time. Today was supposed to be the day. The day you came home.

Shaking off his negative thoughts, Bakugou continued with his backup plan. Although it would hurt his soul to bring harm to his precious princess, he reminded himself that he was doing this for her. He’s been so broken for the past months, he could only imagine how destroyed you must be. Hurting you was his way of helping you.

And so, Bakugou made his way to your hotel, where he found himself standing infront of your glass door at your balcony. To his dismay, you weren’t there. He released a huff before climbing down and once again, began to wait. He waited and waited in hiding, constantly on the lookout for you. It’s hard to find you in the city when you don’t follow your daily schedule, but knowing where you currently resided to get your rest made his job much easier.

Finally, after some time, he heard the familiar and comforting sound of your humming voice as you sang a little song to yourself. Bakugou took the sight of you in and blushed at your beauty from afar. He allowed himself to soak in the sound of your pretty voice before making his move. “Sorry Princess.”

—

You finally made it to the hotel. After your long stroll, you couldn’t wait to get some rest. Except, the closer you got, the more tense you became. You could feel the suspenseful aura in the air and your pace soon slowed down. Eventually, you came to a stop as your nerves got the best of you.

“Hello?” You said in the wind. You looked around and saw nothing but the pitch black night illuminated by the street lights and stars.

“Is someone there?” You asked again, turning your head another direction. Nothing but leaves in the wind. You released a sigh and continued your walk but became startled due to the sound of squirrels fighting in the trees.

“Ah!” You screamed and dropped your bag. After taking notice of the two animals going at it, you chuckled to yourself and turned to pick up your bag, unfortunately being startled once again at the sight of shoes in front of you. “AH!”

You jumped back in fear and took a fighting stance before you settled and relax at the sight of your supposed ex-husband. “Bakugou..it’s just you.”

“Mm, nope.” Bakugou said as he bent down to pick up your bag and hand it to you. “It’s Katsuki.”

His words sent your eyes rolling as you took your bag back with a hesistant hand. Something seemed..off.

“Not anymore. Thanks for the help. Bye.” You attempted to walk on to your hotel entrance but his arm stopped you.

“What? That’s it? Thanks? Bye?” Bakugou asked while gently pushing your body back in front of him. “We should talk, Y/N.”

“There’s nothing to talk abou-“

“There is.” Bakugou said with a firm voice, grabbing your full attention. Seeing your doe eyes look at him with caution caused him to settle. Bakugou sighed through his nose and allowed his hands to rest on your waist. “I miss you, Y/N. I want you to come back home.”

You shook your head at the idea and scrunched your eyes as you tried to step out of his hold. “Bakugou..”

“Hear me out, okay? It won’t be like last time, Teddy Bear-“

“You don’t know that-“

“I do. Because I’m going to try harder for you and I’m going to hold onto you and I’m not gonna ruin us for a second time. I still love you Y/N. I always have and I always will.” Bakugou sweetly said. You looked at him with the same eyes of caution before you placed your hands over his, giving him a sign of hope.

“I’m sorry, Bakugou,” you said, pulling his hands off of your waist. “I sent divorce papers. I don’t want to be with you anymore. I don’t love you anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.” Bakugou said with full confidence. Although you pulled his hands away from your waist, you still allowed him to keep a hold on your own hands.

“...I should.” You said looking down. With each word of denial, Bakugou took a step closer, invading your personal space. “You should get going-“

“No, Y/N-“

“Bakugou-“

“Baby. I know you still want me. I know you still love me and I know you’re excited that I’m back. I love you...and you love me. So just admit it.” He said, inches away from your face. You stared in his eyes with a look of longing...and a hint of love. He was right. You did still love him. But after the neglect and harm he’s brought you, you didn’t know if you did want to go back. You didn’t know.

Sensing your hesistation, Bakugou slowly moved in to close the gap between you two. His hands let go off yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His face inched closer to yours and when you didn’t stop him, he continued. Finally, he gently placed his lips upon your own and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel something again. His kisses always brought a comforting feeling of butterflies in your stomach and after a second of feeling his warm lips, you kissed him back. Your hands found way around his neck as you pulled him in deeper and you could feel Bakugou smile into the kiss. It was hot and passionate. You were out in the open but for a moment it felt like no one else in the world existed. You would’ve gotten lost in the kiss had it not been for you remembering the situation you were in with the man.

Reluctantly, you gently pushed Bakugou off of you, but he still managed to press his forehead to your own. “Katsuki...you should go home.”

“Not without you.” He softly said. You shook your head as you completely pushed him off of you and gathered your things.

“Please...just go.” You said and began to walk away but Bakugou held onto your arm to stop you from moving any further.

“I’m not leaving without you, Y/N. Come home.” He stated.

“Bakugou! Just leave!” You shouted as you turned to him. When you faced the blonde man, you were shocked to see a crazed smile decorating his face.

“Too bad. I’m not asking Y/N. I’m telling. You’re coming home with me. Tonight.” He said and you scoffed at him with slight fear.

“You’re crazy!” You said and tried to shake his hold off of you, but of course failed.

“About you? Yes.” He said as he pulled you in closer. You squirmed against his hold until he pressed you in his chest and kept you in his grasp. You continued to fight against him but he grabbed your face with one hand to force you to stop and look at him.

“Let me go!”

“Listen! You either come home with me the easy way..or my way.” He warned. You looked at him with fear laced all around your face as you watched his insane side surface. You began to squirm again and fight once more.

“I’m not going!” You spat. Bakugou just released a simple laugh before caressing the side of your face.

“Yes. You are.” With that, the gentle hand on the side of your face formed into a first as he swung and knocked you out. You dropped unconscious in his hold and Bakugou was quick to carry you princess style and walk away, abandoning your groceries on the sidewalk.

“Shoulda listened. Cant believe you forced me to hurt you like that, baby.” Bakugou spoke to your unconscious state as he walked back home through dead city streets. “Don’t worry though, I’ll take care of you once we make it back. And then, we’ll never be apart again. I promise.”

—

You awoke to chains being locked on your wrist that were tied against a headboard. You layed on a large mattress in a dark room with a dim light. As you looked around, you recognized the familiar place. The place you used to make love for hours with your ex-husband. The place where movie dates and cuddle sessions were a must. The place you locked yourself in before leaving your last relationship. Katsuki’s bedroom.

You tried to jump out of bed but the restraints pulled you back down. You tried to scream and only muffled sounds could be heard. Katsuki taped your mouth shut. You tried using your quirk but it didn’t work. You looked to your restraints and saw the cuffs he used to hold you were quirk restraining cuffs. With nothing else to do, you tossed and turned in the bed as you allowed the muffled sounds to be as loud as they could. Eventually, the ruckus you were making brought the attention of your captor. Katsuki Bakugou.

Hearing all the noise, Bakugou busted opened the door to be met with your frustrated and teary eyes. You glared at him as he smirked at your locked up state. He took the opportunity to walk up to you and caress your face.

“I’m so sorry I had to hit you baby,” he said leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. “But you left me with no choice. All you had to do was come home on your own free will and I wouldn’t have had to do all that.”

You began to tremble with anger and fear as you stared up at the man. Your teary eyes challenged his insane rubies as he sat on the side of the bed.

“How does it feel to be back? Hm?” He asked, ripping off the tape. You groaned at the pain and grew sick as you saw Bakugou pervertedly lick his lips at the sound. You leaned back and huffed with heavy breath before answering him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Let me go!” You screamed. He only looked at you in confusion as another sinister smile took place on his lips.

“Why would I do that, Teddy Bear?” He asked, allowing his thumb to create sweet and soft circles on your cheek.

“I don’t want you anymore Katsuki! I don’t want to be with you!” Bakugou merely raised a brow at your words and continued to listen. “You burned me-“

*SMACK*

You looked at the man in front of you with fear and shock written on your face. Your cheek stung as your face now turned to the side but Bakugou quickly changed that by taking you by your chin to make you face him and wrapped a hand around your neck, chocking you. You gasped for air as Bakugou’s smirk became replaced with a frown and his brows became pointed.

“How dare you?! You’re asking what’s wrong with me but what the hell is wrong with you?! You left me, for months, Y/N. I was heartbroken. I was basically dead with you gone. I did you a fucking favor bringing you back. If I was so fucked, I can only imagine how horrible you must’ve been feeling. You’re lucky I came and save you. Saved us. And now, we can be happy again.” He explained.

“K-...Katsuki-..p-please!” You forced out, trying to beg for air.

“SHUT UP! I saved you, Y/N. So don’t even try to mention the little accident that happened so long ago, baby. Now you can forgive me. And don’t worry..I’m ready to listen to all the apologies you surely have for me...even if I have to choke them out of you.” He seethed with his hand tightening. Your eyes began to pop as the blood flow began to fill your face. Your eyes turned red as you struggled for air.

“I-...I-I’m..K-Katsuki! ...I’m sorry!” You shouted as best as you could. Luckily for you, the second you did, Bakugou’s hand lost its grip and simply rested on your neck. You choked and coughed as you relished in the sweet taste of oxygen. He smiled and leaned down to give your lips a sweet peck to shut you up and tapped your cheek before he walked to the door. Before leaving, he turned around to look at you and give you your official welcome back.

“I’m glad you’re home, baby. Can’t believe you really tried leaving. You’re mine, Y/N. And you always will be....don’t forget it.”

He slammed the door shut, walking away from the room with a smile. And you?

You cried.

A/N: Back by popular demand, we have part 2 to “What Have I Done.” How was it? In my opinion the beginning SUCKED! But I promise it’ll get better! The story will focus on Y/N and Bakugou’s new lives now so stay tuned and I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Tag list: @captainchrisstan @jazzylove @bakugous-trauma @konohahoee @whatdidshesayyy @chibiiichann @lover-of-helios @unicornlover25 @tamakisropebunny @iliketobullydeku @peacchfuz @fairybnha3 @ebiharachan @levimeko @5sos-wdw @naluciosa @anime-weeb-bnha @bakucumsackslut @asteria-obey-me

[dwellordream]

“A theoretical abstract of what I call “the plot of female amity,” by which I mean the interdependence of female friendship and the marriage plot, would run as follows. The plot begins by contrasting female friendship to the courtship relationship between a man and a woman. Lovers when first meeting often have false first impressions and only declare their love hesitantly, after overcoming many misunderstandings and obstacles. The bond between female friends, in contrast, is either established before the novel begins or coalesces almost instantaneously, intensifies almost effortlessly, and can be expressed clearly and openly. The relative stability of friendship makes it the motor rather than the subject of plot; it generates enormous energy without itself moving much or melting down. 

The tendency of female friendship to remain constant over the course of a plot is a sign both of its narrative weakness (not much happens to the friendship) and of its narrative strength (because of its stability, friendship makes things happen). In the middle phases of the plot of female amity, one friend expresses love for the other by helping her to realize her marriage plot. This can take the form of mediating a suitor’s courtship, giving a husband to the friend or the friend to a husband, or helping to remove an obstacle to the friend’s marriage. This phase can also take the form of one friend assuaging the other’s wounds and bolstering her subjectivity to make her more marriageable. 

The plot of female amity does not substitute for the conventional marriage plot, since the friend usually does not seek to replace a husband; when she does, the plot of female amity is displaced by the female marriage plot (see chapter 6). In the plot of female amity, marriage and friendship are inseparable, and the woman who promotes a friend’s marriage to a man is a forceful agent of the closure achieved once friendship and marriage have become parallel states and the future husband and wife have attained the harmony that already prevailed between female friends. The plot of female amity is the Victorian novel’s purloined letter, hiding in plain sight in the genre’s every permutation. The remainder of this chapter makes that point through sustained readings of a few major works, but to give an idea of the plot’s range, let me first rapidly survey a sensation novel, a silver-fork novel, a political roman a clef, and a novel of provincial life. 

Sensation novels, which characteristically emphasize occult powers and deceptive social ties, make female friendship an equally baroque narrative force. In Wilkie Collins’s Man and Wife (1870), for instance, the attachment between two female friends, Blanche and Anne, is all that can disentangle a marriage plot mired in complex wills, obscure legal loopholes, and vindictive relatives. One friend’s “resolution to reunite herself” with the other ultimately enables each woman to be united with a loving husband. Blanche makes her refusal to “give . . . up” Anne a condition of marriage when she tells her suitor: “There’s time to say No, Arnold—if you think I ought to have no room in my heart for anybody but you.”

Anne marries a man she hates in order to secure the legality of Blanche’s marriage to the man she loves: “She kissed her— looked at her—kissed her again—and placed her in her husband’s arms” (525). As so often happens in the plot of female amity, marriage makes female friends kin when Anne is freed of her villainous first husband and marries Blanche’s uncle, who learns to love Anne through the loyalty she arouses in his niece: “‘The woman must have some noble qualities,’ he thought, ‘who can inspire such devotion as this’” (246). 

In Frances Trollope’s silver-fork novel The Widow Barnaby (1839), which combines sentimental fiction with a portrait of high life, a generic preoccupation with virtue and good taste inflects the plot of female amity: the narrative defines the heroine’s innate gentility by showing that she can captivate virtuous, well-born women as well as men. One young woman’s “enthusiasm” for Agnes, the heroine—whom she finds so attractive “it is with difficulty that I keep my eyes away from her”—shows her good taste, which in turn reflects Agnes’s true worth (117). Agnes’s responses to other women similarly display her good judgment and capacity to feel desire. 

The Victorian marriage plot required heroines to be chaste, yet sufficiently ardent and aware of their desires to marry for love. The plot of female amity circumvents the paralyzing effect that this paradoxical demand might have on the marriage plot by using female friendship as a vehicle for depicting a heroine’s erotic excitability while skirting, so to speak, the strictures on female heterosexual assertion. When Agnes first meets the “tall, elegant-looking woman” whom she does not yet know is her male beloved’s sister, her “whole attention seemed captivated” (228). 

Once she identifies the woman as the sister of the man she loves, Agnes goes into a paroxysm, “trembling from head to foot with her eyes timidly fixed on the beautiful countenance of Colonel Hubert’s sister. . . . [T]here was timidity certainly in the pleasure with which she listened to the voice and gazed at the features of Colonel Hubert’s sister; but still it was pleasure, and very nearly the most lively she had ever experienced” (249–50). Within pages, she and Hubert’s sister have exchanged the embraces and kisses that are the novelistic sign a happy marriage will soon help their budding friendship bloom, and Hubert’s sister approves her brother’s choice, exclaiming, “I too am very much in love with Agnes” (342). 

Trollope can so graphically represent the erotic delight women take and inspire in each other for the obvious reason that the “lively . . . pleasure” of female homoeroticism poses no phallic threat to virginal virtue. But she can also depict their attraction so floridly because a woman’s susceptibility to another woman defined rather than defied femininity— because even the most erotic bond between women could sustain opposite-sex desire. As a final pair, consider George Meredith’s Diana of the Crossways (1885) and Harriet Martineau’s Deerbrook (1839). Although both novels explore community, vocation, and rumor, nothing could be further from Martineau’s expository, prosaic didacticism than Meredith’s elliptical, quicksilver sophistication. 

Yet both novels conclude with scenes that demonstrate the inseparability of marriage and female friendship. In Meredith’s novel, the eponymous heroine, nicknamed Tony, marries only when her best friend, Emma, proposes on a suitor’s behalf. The novel’s last sentences describe Emma’s “exaltation” as she “held her beloved in her arms under the dusk of the withdrawing redness.” That “beloved” is the female friend who has just returned from her honeymoon, and the novel’s last lines focus on the women’s reunion: “They sat embraced, with hands locked, in the unlighted room, and Tony spoke of the splendid sky. ‘You watched it knowing I was on my way to you?’ ‘Praying, dear... [t]hat I might live long enough to be a godmother.’ There was no reply: there was an involuntary little twitch of Tony’s fingers.”

The stock scene in which a wife obliquely confesses to her husband that she is pregnant takes place here between female friends: the “involuntary little twitch” of Tony’s fingers is a telegraphic signal that Emma’s wish is already reality, a displaced sign of the fetus’s movement within her, and a response whose involuntary corporeality underscores that a clearly consummated marriage has not dimmed the romance between female friends. Deerbrook also ends at dusk, an erotic threshold that blurs light and darkness, public visibility and shaded privacy, in which day tremulously balances night and finality seems momentarily suspended. 

The plot of female amity is aptly timed to conclude at evening, for it achieves closure by evenly distributing narrative attention and the heroine’s affections across friendship and marriage, rather than forcing a choice between them. Deerbrook thus ends not only at twilight, but also “on the eve” of Margaret Ibbotson’s happy, long-deferred marriage to Philip Enderby, which she chooses to spend with her friend Maria. Margaret and Maria have both loved Philip, but as the plot of female amity dictates, their shared love has brought them closer instead of driving them apart. In the novel’s final scene, they sit together in Maria’s house until they hear Philip’s horse, and Maria gives her friend away by telling her to “go and give Mr. Enderby the walk in the shrubbery that he galloped home for” (523). 

The novel’s final sentence displays the conjugal couple in the light of female friendship: “Margaret kept Philip waiting while she lighted her friend’s lamp; and its gleam shone from the window of the summer-house for long, while, talking of Maria, the lovers paced the shrubbery, and let the twilight go” (523). The reader infers that Margaret leaves Maria’s side, but the narrator does not describe her actual departure; instead, she leaps paratactically from a first clause that places the two women in the same room to a second clause that depicts Margaret walking with Philip. 

That second clause bends over backwards to give the participial phrase “talking of Maria” priority over the clause’s grammatical subject, “the lovers,” but what the sentence loses in fluency it gains in meaning, since that reversal embodies how Maria presides over Margaret’s union with Philip. The passage’s articulation of space and vision makes the moment between friends persist in the lovers’ walk, for Margaret and Philip are illuminated by Maria’s lamp, which Margaret has lit. The novel’s final tableau allegorizes the social links that the plot of female amity forges between marriage and female friendship, which appear as closely connected as adjacent moments, cottage and shrubbery, or a light source and the object it illuminates.”

- Sharon Marcus, “Just Reading: Female Friendship and the Marriage Plot.” in Between Women: Friendship, Desire, and Marriage in Victorian England

[blackypanther9]

Part 32 - Destiny...

Your POV....

We were almost there. I had a feeling that Laufey will hate me, after I told him the truth. I mean... I can't hide Loki from him any longer. He would find out someday anyway. So better now than never. I was in my thoughts planning my words and how I tell him this in a gentle way. I mean, I am not like Odin. Just telling the truth and then handle it. I want to handle it while I tell him. I don't throw it out like Odin. I tell it gentle. Suddenly someone grabbed my shoulder and I snapped out of it. I looked at Lence. He looked at me worried.

"What is it, Lence ?"

"Did you even hear what I told you ?"

"No... Sorry I zoned out..."

"Because ?"

"...Nothing..."

"Lucifer..."

"I need to tell Laufey something in a very gentle way. I am worried he will hate and kill me, when he knows..."

"Knows of what ?"

"Be a grave, about that, okay ?"

"I swear."

"Laufey had a son, right ?"

He nodded.

"And he is reported as dead, right ?"

Lence nodded again.

I sighed.

"He is still alive.", I said.

"WHAT ?!"

He stared at me in surprise and shock.

"Laufey’s son...he is still alive. I see his face almost every day. He lives in Asgard."

"That...that are great news !", he said happily.

"I know, but how he came there and why...is not great. Who took him, who gave the idea, who is he, what is he like, is he good, how was he treated and all these questions... and then the worst one....'Can I meet him one day'. That is the problem."

Lence's grin disappeared. He frowned.

"Why ? Is he in prison ?"

"No ! He hates his own race, because he heard stories about us, which aren't true. We were the monsters under children’s bed, ready to eat them and all that. We are a horror story in Asgard."

"Oh boy... Laufey won't like that part. Odin is the monster. He always was. Remember Hela ? Boy was that a bitch in armor.", Lence said with much hatred.

"Yeah. I heard stories about that. She killed the Valkyries. Not even one survived."

"And with who was she related ?"

"Don't. Please. They aren't ready to know that."

"Fine. But Odin used her as a killing machine. They took over the realms. He made her go crazy. And as he decided that he should protect the realms, instead of destroying them, Hela wasn't agreeing. No one could stop her and she killed everyone in her way. And then Odin set the Valkyries on her tail. She killed every single one of them. This crazy bitch still lives ! She is just in a fucking cell !"

"Yeah...But this cell is far away from Asgard and she is weak. No one ever found her and the cell. That is good."

"Yes at least that. But still I am asking myself, how twisted Odin must have been, back then."

"Well he isn't it anymore. As he banished Hela he slowly drifted up again, but then Frigga was with child. And since Frigga was with Thor pregnant, he changed completely and became someone else. And as he got his second child he changed even more. They changed him, but Odin realized he poisoned Thor with stories and his presence, so, he kept distance to his other son. Didn't go well..."

"Oh ?"

"Yeah...Let's not talk about it..."

"Okay. I understand it is a touchy subject."

"Yeah, for that person yes.", I said.

"Okay... I shut my mouth.", Lence said.

After 9 minutes he sighed.

"You can talk Lence."

"What are their names ?"

"The one with the long, blond hair and red cape is Thor Odinson. The boy with the long black hair is Loki. The woman with brown hair is called Lady Sif. Next to her the other man with the blond short hair is called Fandral. The big guy with a long beard and axe is Volstagg. And the man with the black hair in a dot is Hogun."

"Ah..Okay. Good to know."

After 8 more minutes we were at a house. He opened it and we went in.

"Lucifer ! It is nice to see you again old friend !", I heard Laufey say.

Then I saw him. He was smiling, but dropped it as he saw the others.

"Laufey...be nice. They already saw. You can drop the act now. Faker."

"What are they doing here ?", he asked coldly.

"They wanted to talk with you later. About what, is not important now. I came here to repair the damage with the casket. Then I need to have a small talk with you, like the others and there you really should drop this act, or you will get hurt. No joke Laufey."

He shook his head and went in front of Loki.

"You tried to kill me. You thought you killed me. You little piece of-"

"LAUFEY ! Don't say something you may regret later !", I warned.

"Why should I regret it ? This little piece of shit tried to murder me ! Odin’s little son of a asshole ! I won't regret anything !"

I went to Laufey and slapped him across the face. Hard.

"First: Calm the fuck down ! Second: I know that you will regret it. And third: He isn't a piece of shit. Not even Odin’s little son of a asshole. Say something again and I kick you right there where the sun never shines. Did I made myself clear ?"

Laufey took a deep breath and nodded.

"Cristal - clear."

"Thank you. And now if you excuse me, I am outside and repair Jotunheim."

I disappeared out of the door.

Frigga's POV...

Loki was hurt. I saw it. He messed up big time. I touched his shoulder, he looked at me.

"He doesn't know, okay ? Jotuns hate Asgardians. That is just hate towards Asgardians. You will see."

He nodded. I hugged him and after some moments he hugged back.

"Oh. Someone still needs his mommy to not cry. Typically Asgardians. So emotional and weak. It is so disgusting.", Laufey said.

"Laufey please stop. Destiny is right, you will be sorry later, for that.", I said.

Laufey’s eyes widen with pure shock.

"Destiny ?! She is dead !"

"No. Lucifer is Destiny. Destiny Andrea Dust. She is right outside and repairs Jotunheim for you."

"Impossible..."

"Laufey...everything is possible.", I said.

He stood up and ran outside. We followed him. We stood still as we saw that Jotunheim was almost repaired again. We saw Laufey standing in the middle of a field with snow. We saw Destiny coming to us, she didn't even see Laufey, who searched her. I smiled and pointed behind her. She turned around and giggled.

Your POV....

I turned back around to look at Frigga.

"What did you tell him, that he searches me ?", I asked.

"I told him that your real name is Destiny Andrea Dust."

I chuckled and shook my head.

"Oh boy...now I will get a death hug and a red cheek... I am so happy.", I said sarcastically.

I turned around and took a deep breath.

"Laufey ! Come in you fool !", I yelled.

He turned around and ran to me as soon as he saw me. He grabbed me by my shoulders and held me tight. He stared in my eyes.

"Are you Destiny Andrea Dust ?", he asked.

I smiled.

"Sorry...what did you say ? I believe I heard a name, but not goat. Wasn't my name goat ?", I asked him.

"...Goat...Destiny...It's- it's YOU !"

He hugged me very tight, lifted me up and spun me around.

"You are back ! You're real ! You are here !", he yelled happily.

I giggled. He laughed too.

"I thought I lost you... I have you back ! All this time the whole 342 years I had you and never realized it... You have no idea how much I missed you !"

He put me down and I saw tears coming down his cheeks. I wiped them away.

"Then why are you crying ? I am back and...we need to talk... I bet you will kill me after this...."

He looked at me confused.

"Why would I ?"

"You will soon know. Now come inside. This is serious and very painful.", I said.

"Alright...", Laufey said worried.

And with that we went back into the house. We sat down and he waited, like everyone else, I sighed.

Part 33

Masterlist with all Chapters of this Story click here !  

[specialagentlokitty]

Please read: advice for living on your own

So, as many of you are aware, I’m living on my own now. And I’d like to give you all some advice based on my situation.

I walked out of my house nearly two weeks ago and I’ve been on my own since (with support from friends and college.) I have no parents now, I disowned them because of what they did to me.

FIRSTLY, if you don’t think anyone is supporting you, message me!! I’ll support you and help you every step of the way!

DONT be hasty to move out, make sure you have a safe place to go to. Don’t just walk out of your house without a place arranged, even if you’re not happy there as horrible as it sounds you’ll need to stay there until you can safely move out.

I arranged with a friend to move out. (For those of you in the UK you can also go to the YMCA which is where I am)

Also save a bit of money first for food, that’s also very important I saved up three weeks of college bursary which was only £10 a week, but it meant I could get food

If you’re in an abusive household, please, please, research your local orginisations, every town or city should have one and not just in the UK, most other countries do as well

For those in an abusive household once you’re out, never look back, it’s for the best trust me. Never ever go back into that household unless it’s an absolute choice between there and the streets, it’s very hard to get off the streets once you’re on them.

Living on your own is weird and hard at first, but after a few days you get the hang of it, though you will miss people you liked living with(I miss my brothers).

If you’re going into shared housing ALWAYS hide anything valuable like money etc before letting others into your room and never leave others in your room unattended.

Food is always your priority, always make sure you have food and bottled water in your place before anything else, trust me this will help. And always make sure your phone has a bit of credit for emergencies, if you don’t have money for food or anything DONT BE ASHAMED TO GO TO FOOD BANKS OR BUY OWN BRANDS !! THERES NO SHAME IN IT!

Also make lists on what you need, trust me it helps, add up anything you need to pay as well like water, rent etc.

I’m not sure what sort of benifits other countries do I’m afraid but you should really look into it and apply for any you can before moving out

FOR THOSE OF YOU IN ENGLAND!!

You can apply for universal credit(depending on age), and you might be able to get an advance payment (have to apply before June 6th I believe) but the full amount for an advance is £342 or around that, and you’ll get it within a few days, so you won’t need to worry about that.

If you’re applying for UC, call up within a day if you can’t apply for an advance and they’ll speed up the process is you explain you’re on your own with no money

[anotherferalrat]

This shot from the OP makes me so unimaginably sad

Like ik I joke a lot about oh no who goofed the timeline this time lol but I can't even imagine all the weight Lu Guang carries each day. Not only does he have to balance these precarious cogs of events so this dive doesnt end up for nothing but he's effectively doing it alone bc nobody else remembers his dives and he cant very well tell them either bc it'll fuck up his timeline or bc that'll put them in danger or what have u

Then ofc u kno, there's the unimaginable trauma of watching someone u love die over and over knowing there's nothing u can rly do to stop it bc of the fuckin time police ig AKA that bitchass grell wannabe lookin mf AKA vein(?)

BUT THEN-

CXS BRINGS HIM BACK INTO THE LIGHT, GROUNDING HIM TO THEIR TIMELINE AND JUST-

I have very many feelings about them. I love Lu Guang. He's my current fav lil disaster man🫶

[agentaletha]

Ace Reads Review: Sawkill Girls

Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand

Published 2018 by Katherine Tegen Books (an imprint of Harper Collins) (cover shows the head of a white girl with dark hair surrounded by moths)

Both a Bram Stoker Award nominee and a Lambda Literary Award nominee

“Beware of the woods and the dark, dank deep.

He’ll follow you home, and he won’t let you sleep.

Who are the Sawkill Girls?

Marion: the new girl. Awkward and plain, steady and dependable. Weighed down by tragedy and hungry for love she’s sure she’ll never find.

Zoey: the pariah. Luckless and lonely, hurting but hiding it. Aching with grief and dreaming of vanished girls. Maybe she’s broken—or maybe everyone else is.

Val: the queen bee. Gorgeous and privileged, ruthless and regal. Words like silk and eyes like knives, a heart made of secrets and a mouth full of lies.

Their stories come together on the island of Sawkill Rock, where gleaming horses graze in rolling pastures and cold waves crash against black cliffs. Where kids whisper the legend of an insidious monster at parties and around campfires.

Where girls have been disappearing for decades, stolen away by a ravenous evil no one has dared to fight… until now.”

These three girls have complicated relationships, to each other and to their families. All three are grieving. This book is ace representation that we don’t see every day - an ace main character who is a woc, after a romantic relationship, in a horror story. Zoey is the ace character, she is Black, the daughter of the police chief, a writer, fannish, and recently ended a romantic relationship with one of her two best friends, Grayson. They are still good friends but there is a lot of uncertainty unspoken between them. Interestingly, the only difference between the quote above from Goodreads and the back of the paperback is the one sentence about Zoey maybe being broken. It reads to me as a hint that she’s ace and I wonder if that was intentional but considered too niche for the printed copy…

In short, horror is not my thing but I enjoyed this, loved Zoey, and thought it was thoughtful ace representation that I would recommend to anyone who thinks they might be interested. This is a horror story and there is a lot of horror going on so I’m going to get right to the spoilers and warnings, under the break.

I tend to avoid horror. I don’t really care about gore and I’m sensitive to grief and often feel that horror ignores real grief and trauma for a spectacle for titillated observers. This walked the line of being too much for me - I’m warning for body horror, possession, the deaths of several immediate family members, and some heavy handed misogyny. Val is both a victim and an accomplice (and at times a perpetrator) but she and Marion are drawn to each other and don’t take long to start making out. Personally having Zoey’s relationship with Grayson in contrast made the “it’s a bad idea but we just can’t help it” of Marion and Val’s relationship a bit unearned, but it does set the stage for love to save the day in the end. And love and sisterhood does save the day as the three girls join forces to fight not just the monster but an ancient cult of men who believe killing the girls is the only way to win against the monster. Val is not entirely forgiven, but she is cared for, and in a scene that hits much harder after months of lock-down with limited human contact, she asks to be held and cuddles with Zoey. 

Zoey’s relationship with Grayson is actually my favorite part, surprising even me. Most YA stories with ace characters are about discovering their asexuality, often explored in the context of a beginning or potential romantic relationship. I can’t think of any other stories that start here, with two characters who love each other and are still friends but have broken up because one of them is ace. At first we don’t get many details - it’s clear they are still close and care about each other so why they aren’t together is a mystery. Grayson comes through for them time after time, investigating with them and researching for them, with seemingly no expectations. They are geeky together and are super cute, quiping and quoting at each other. Grayson is awesome, maybe a little unrealistically awesome for a teenage boy, but never boring. Eventually we find out that what happened before the story started was they had had sex:

“And it hadn’t been bad. It hadn’t been great, either - at least not for Zoey - and as Grayson had held her afterward, catching his breath and drawing circles on her shoulders with this thumb, Zoey had realized she could happily exist for the rest of her life without doing that ever again. 

Does that mean I’m broken? She’d wondered, tears pricking her eyes. [...] 

On the day she’d split from Grayson, she’d asked him that same question: “Does this mean I’m broken?” 

He’d answered immediately: “No, it doesn’t. And I don’t care about the sex, Zo. I want to be with you. 

Zoey, though, had recoiled at the idea. He would grow to resent her. He would break her heart, and she would break his. 

She’d backed away from him, shaking her head. “I’m not going to change my mind Grayson.”

“Zo, please, I’m not asking you to--”

Zoey had left him then, unable to bear the gentle sound of his voice or the sight of his tears. And that was that.” (p. 341-342)

The word asexuality is never used, but it is very clear, and while the story never connects her to a wider ace community, it also never questions that her being ace is a real thing.

After the battle is over they go to Grayson’s house and his family lets them in. Grayson is at peak amazingness and he and Zoey cuddle and discuss what comes next. It’s a little too long to include the whole thing, but it’s a great conversation! Grayson says he doesn’t know if he can be with her but not with her. He says that he didn’t understand the idea of not wanting sex at first and worried that he’d done something wrong, or there was someone else, but he got over it and realized how much he missed having her in his life, with or without sex. He reiterates that sex is not that important to him and says that could have had sex with other people but he didn’t want to (hinting that he might be demi?) but either way he’d be okay with a lifetime without sex if he could be with her. In a nice reversal of how aces are often told they might change their minds later, Zoey tells him not to make it a final declaration. They both say that they don’t want the other one to have to change who they are to be together. They discuss the wide varieties of future maybes and decide to give it a try and see how it goes.

I love this for them. Instead of a zero-sum game where someone has to lose, they are acknowledging that they may always feel the same or their feelings may change but they’ll give it a try and face whatever comes together.

[decadentenemyturtle]

The Great Unknown

Part 19

Pairing; Thorin x Reader, Thorin’s company x Reader

Words; 1755

All part's of The Great Unknown

You studied Thorin's eyes, looking for something that would tell you that he really didn't mean what he had said, that he was just pulling your leg and acting to care to gain your trust again. But all you could see was sadness and regret. He really was sorry for how he had acted when he had heard about your possible parents and now he was trying to make amends. He, and the boys, had apologied, but what about the rest of the company?

"For you, and Fee and Kee, I might forgive - for now - but... Don't expect me to be nice around you with the company or that I've forgiven them. They still act hostile around me" you said truthfully, swallowing the lump in your throat. Sadness overtook Thorin's face, yet he nodded, understanding - or trying to - your situation. If he expected that his apology would include the rest of the dwarves, he was wrong.

"I know, (Y/n). I know. But you must understand, your family, your father especially, was close with Thranduil and his family. The others are jumpy and on edge, because they know this. And your father was there the day when Smaug attacked Erebor and Dale" Thorin says. Your jaw drops. This was something you did not know. And why did you hear about this just now?! And what else where they hiding from you?

"Why am I hearing about this just now?" you asked in shaky voice. "That my parent's were close to a king of Mirkwood realm?" Thorin swallowed, looking away from you. You stared at him, trying to progress this new information. The want to hit your head to something hard just grew. Everything you had heard in these past few days was crazy, and it just got more and more crazy. Soon someone would probably say that your uncle was half elephant and half orc, and you wold more likely just believe them. You were about to say Thorin's name, when he suddenly spoke.

"You know how he, Thranduil, betrayed my people when we needed help after the dragon's attack. Even when your father was there, it had nothing to do with you. You are not at fault of how the Mirkwood elves turned their back to us, and I've tried to tell this to the company, but they are still bitter" Thorin told you. You felt horrible. The people, the dwarves, you had been accompanied these past few months, turned their back to you just because your father had been there when the king of Mirkwood decided not to figt against a dragon? You had seen them as some sort of friends and now it was all just gone. Like smoke disappeared in the air.

You swallowed, or tired to, looking away from Thorin. You were numb, even the sadness left from you. Even when you were happy to know who your biologial parent's might be, it had brought you more sorrow than happiness. Oh how you wshe to be back in Earth, have that fight with your adoptive mother all over again, only ths time to stay in your old room and sulk, like you first thought doing.

"Then I... Then I'm afraid this is where my journey will end. I cannot continue with people who will judge me of what my father and his friend did. I cannot" you said with a broken voice, a sob leaving from you. Thorin's face fell before he could collect himself. And you felt bad about it. You didn't want to hurt him, but since his people didn't accept you, you had to leave.

"Please, (Y/n), consider this" Thorin tried to reason with you, but you had already made your mind. And hint of stubborness hit on, refusing to give in. You knew what the future might bring on; The company acting hostile towards you, talking bad about you, and finally you would snap and turn to a dog, if you could, and attack the said person. You had already atacked Nori when he had kicked the little wolf puppy. The company may not like you, and they had every right not to, but they had no right to talk shit about you. 

"I can't, Thorin. Even though I love you, I can't. You are a king and your people doesen't acccept me, there for I have to step down. I have to leave" you told him, tears falling freely from your eyes. It hurt, but this was the only way. Thorin closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against yours.

"I refuse to believe this, amrâlimê. We are bound to be One, and we will find a way to make this work. If nothing else works, I'll pass the grown to Fíli and live with you where ever the Valar's take us, to the end of our days" Thorin says solemnly. You couldn't do anything but sob. You had no hope for the future, but Thorin held the little strings there was. And you didn't know whatever you should hold on to them too, or let it go. For now, all you could do was to sob and lean against Thorin, hugging him as tight as you could. And he held you tight against himself, as if his life depended on it.

The door opened and closed, as the two brothers stepped inside. The dwarves, Bilbo, Gandalf and Beorn turned to them. Silently, without even looking at anyone, Fíli stepped to the kitchen and set the tray down, whilest Kíli stopped after getting in. He glared at everyone, at everything.

"I hope yer happy now. She hates us, more than our people hates elves" the younger prince says before he stumbles away angrily. Half of the company stared after him, whilst Balin sighed and closed his eyes. He had seen this coming, the comflict among the dwarves and the young girl.

"Well, that's that then. As Thorin has said, (Y/n) is not at fault of what her family or close ones have done. (Y/n) was considered as dead when Glorfindel came to protect Erebor from the dragon with Thranduil. She had been concidered dead long before that, alongside with her mother and her people" Balin reminds the others around him with a sad look on his face. The dwarves around him sift, but say nothing. Dwalin turns his glare to his brother and then he sighs.

"If that lass is really who Gandalf thinks she is, then how come she's alive?" he growls. Balin meets his brothers glare with sad eyes. With a fragile breath, he turns his eyes back to the floor and shakes his head. How was he to know this?

"Well, her mother was a maiar. And they could use magic, so there is a possibility that her mother sent her or her soul away in critical moment and saved her life" Balin answers. This was all Balin knew about maiar's and their magic, for the maiar's protected their magic and information about it like dwarves protected their culture, even more secure than that. Dwalin grumbles something about magic, turning to glare the opposite wall.

"Gandalf, is it really possible to send someone to another world with magic?" Bofur asks from the wizard, who had silently watched the dwarves. The wizards eyes turns to Bofur and for long moment he stays silent. No one says anything as they wait silently for the wizard to answer. Then he sighs, turns his eyes away and shakes his head.

"Not to my knowledge. But each maiar can use magic differently, so I would't be surprised if someone has managed to create a portal to another world. Magic is something that is not always shared even between maiars, not to mention to another races or even the Valar's themselves"  he finally answers. Then he turns to the door with a grim look in his eyes. "I was there, when (Y/n) mother died and when (Y/n)... died... before he mother... All I know is that Anwya, (Y/n) mother was singing and crying after her 342 years old girl had died. And that her death was the cause of Anwya's death. A little after their death's Glorfindel died after taking down an Balrog. May it be an broken heart or a broken body that claimed him"

The dwarves were quiet, staring the floor, their feet. Beorn started the door thoughtfully and only Bilbo looked at Gandalf. And that small curiousity overtook  him.

"But.. Excusme for asking, but... How did (Y/n) die?' Bilbo asked. His eye met Gandalf and the Hobbit saw the sadness, the overhelming sadness taking over the wizard. And it was something Bilbo never assumed to see on the wizards face.

"Their people were caught in orc raid, lead by Azog's forefather Gornag. She was only learning how to fig with bow and sword, not fully knowing how to defend herself. She was caught on guard and stapped by orc blade by vital organs" Gandalf told, his voice being shaky, his eyes being glassy. Oin, the healer of the Company, swalloved and turned away from the company. Because he knew. Injury in vital area were deathly, especially if healer's couldn't be summoned immediately. And the girl had been just a child in the eyes of elves. She had died, when she was just a mere child, Oin thought grimly.

"So... (Y/n) was stabed... And her mother sent her to safety, only to be returned to this world with no memories. What should we do now, wizard?" Dori asks. Gandalf meets the grey haired taylors eyes and he looks toughtfull.

"I've sent a word to Lord Elrond about (Y/n)'s possiblity of being Glorfindel's daughter. When I'll hear about them, we'll be more wise. Until then, all we can do is wait" Gandalf says. Fili looks around the room, before setting in middle of the room, addressing everyone.

"I'd like to remind everyone, that no matter who her paren't are, (Y/n) is still (Y/n). If you cannot accept that, then turn and go back to Blue Mountains for Durin's folk do not need close minded's loyalty" the lad says in same tone, the kingly, commandin tone Thorin used. "You do not only betray King Thorin with closing her off, you betray the Gueen Under the Mountain and I'll tell you this: You have no place under the Mountain, if you cannot accept the one person who has been ready to give her life for the king"

@lidda @bee-wrecker @queendarkmuffin@silencegetawayfromme@kettnerjanea @sdavid09 @ealasaid@jumpingmanatee @fab-notfat @bae-age @fricking-ghoul @k-youre-a-fantasy@dumbgopher1 @maddybeck01 @naminalati @leah-halliwell92@evyiione @tschrist1 @red608@aliendaddiesneeded@letsbeinspiredby@jotink78 @dragongirl642 @shxrrybomb

[inkedtales]

Hostages

A story I wrote that I’m proud of...

The Speech- I looked around, bumping past all sorts of folks. I had never seen such variety before. Something special is happening today. We had people wearing the English’s red coats, the colonies blue coats, or neither. We had men and woman, of all sort of sizes. A few kids were there too. There were a bundle of slaves, chatting while their owners argued, drunklingly. Mainly the entire square was littered with white men, all circling around a wooden trunk. On top stood a loud, proud man holding enough papers that put together would be taller than a toddler. I should know, my toddler sister stood right beside those papers, and toppled them over. This man did not care that his papers were messed up, just like how his hair was messed up, and his glasses were crooked. His brain were sharp and precise, just like my own. He had memorized the entire speech that were in those papers, so he did not need them, or good glasses or well brushed hair, to prove that he knew what he was talking about. I only wish I was as certain as him, my father. Damian Lyons, a political activist with his mind set on the fact that the colonies needed to be freed from the tyrant, King George. God, how he hates him. Nearly every word that came out of his mouth builds towering waves all ready to swallow Britain and its troops up. I stared silently as drunk folks threw bottles at him angrily, while others ran up to try to protect my father. I stood there, more silent than a jaguar sneaking up to its prey, except that unlike the jaguar, I would remain silent and never take the action, too scared of the risk of that prey running away. Not even certain if I wanted the prey. How does my dad do that, talk and talk, never scared of the consequences. Me, my step mom, my sister, we were all at stake if he slipped, and his words were taken the wrong way. But who is to decide if I am to be put at risk. I don't want to get harmed, and nor does my father want me and our family to be harmed, yet he continues day after day, to speak. Every day to a larger crowd. The larger the crowd, the louder his voice, and the smaller I feel. Unfortunately no one in my family can relate. Even now, my little 3 year old sister, Amy cheered for my father. She is so innocent, why would my father add more pressure on the soon to be war, if it means ruining that innocence. At least she is braver than me, I can't even cheer for my father, much less speak in front of the crowd in my father's place. Especially since, I don't even know if I agree with my dad. Maybe the British are right? Maybe it's good that they are taxing us, it’s keeping us grounded. How do you truly know? How are we supposed to have freedom, when I can't even have it. While my father rambles professionally about the colonies freedom, he forgets about my own. My life had already been decided. On my step mother’s say so, I will become a doctor, and work for the British. Not that my father knows, my step mother would never give a hint on her true intentions when he is home, which is rarely. She sides with the British, yet supposably loves my father, or at least his money. I feel so alone, with neither parent on my side, seeing what I want. What do I even want? My thoughts were interrupted when dad suddenly points at me and Amy, as he exclaimed “Look at my kids, one is almost an adult. Do we want our kids to grow up in a world of cruelty or freedom. Do we -”. I did not hear the rest. I grabbed Amy’s hand and walked off. I don't want to be a part of your dumb war. As I opened the doors to my humble home, I turned to hear some closet being slammed, and then I saw step mom, covered with flour and something red, come out of the kitchen. Amy ran away, leaving me alone with mom. I knew though she was listening every word me and step mom were saying, though. She was an eavesdropper, always had been. She was probably hugging her lion toy, waiting for what she knew would be some sort of argument. “Your back early. I thought you and Amy were going to stay and listen to your father's speech. Why did you come back?” Step mother asked. “I did not feel like staying while dad rants, step mother.” I responded, trying to walk up to my own room. She grabbed my hand with a astounding grip. I growled a bit and turned around to face her. She sighed and looked me in the eyes. “When will you start calling me mother.” I was silent for a moment. I turned to see Amy's head and her lion toy peering on top of the staircase, then back to my step mother. “When you start acting like one.” I finally answered, finding courage to do so. With that said, I ran through the kitchen, past a closet with similar red spots as the ones on step moms dress, to the living room to grab my book and travel into a world with its own problems, but not with mines. Boston Tea Party- I don't know how much time had past, but when I looked up from my book it had gotten dark. I lit up a candle and read some more, until I heard a knock on our door. I left my book on the coffee table and left to see who was at the door. The person on the other side of the door preceded to knock a few more times. Amy, now sitting in front of the door, looked curiously at me. I opened the door. Immediately, my father entered, so quickly he almost knocked me down as he shoved past me, laughing. I don't understand why he  was laughing, but my dad saw good in nearly everything. Even if there were glass shards from beer cups in his hair, a big cut on his arm, and mud all over his expensive suit. Even if it was nine past eleven, and no dinner had been cooked. Even if he had lost all of his papers, his hours of work to men who hated him. Dad was always the optimistic one. “Guys, great news!” He yelled, practically jumping up and down while doing so. “Up by the Boston Port, not too far from here a British ship is coming with more tea!” So? Dad hates tea and Britain products, people, and really anything that had to do with Britain. Why would he be excited about this? Dad must've noticed my confusion because he explained that he and a bunch of other “patriots”, as he liked to call himself, would go on the ship and throw all the tea in the sea, to make King George realize how much they hated him and his taxes. They were calling this event the “Boston Tea Party”. He seemed quite happy, as he had been specifically invited by a major patriot, Benjamin Franklin. At his name I could not help but get excited myself. Franklin was renowned, and he spoke to my father. “When are you leaving for it?” Step mom asked, excitedly. He said now and ran past mom to grab a few things, accidently stepping on Amy's lion, and cutting its head wide open. I grabbed Amy and her toy upstairs to calm her down, but she seemed to care more about Dads safety then the toy. Me too Amy. Me too. I went to bed, and woke up in the morning, expecting to see my dad fast asleep on a couch, as he had done more times then I could count. He had most certainly done it enough times for me to imagine cleary what he looked like when it happened. His face flat on a pillow, glasses still on, coat covering him in replace of a proper blanket, and his papers everywhere, some even would travel as far as the staircase. Instead of seeing this though, when I got downstairs I saw my step mom holding a newspaper, shaking her head. Little Amy sat nearby, attempting to peer over step moms shoulder to try to read herself.  I grabbed the newspaper from her and read it allowed for Amy “On the night of December 16, American colonists frustrated about King Georges latest tax and the lack of representation teamed up to dump what we estimate a astounding 342 chests of tea into the sea. Particularly salty about the recent massacre,  and how even after that the king had decided to keep the tea tax, they decided the time to act was now, and by doing this they had represented the entirety of Boston, whether we like it or not, as rebels.” I read, unsurprised. Typical of my dad and his friends, to make everyone seem like they hate the king when actually the minority do. Amy gestured me to continue, so I did. “The King's men had taken many of these political protesters as they could find after this event, and are keeping them hostage. Most were able to escape their wrath, but not for long. Everyone will be punished as the Boston Harbor will be closed until further notice, by Britain's best available men.” I paused, unable to continue on. Was dad one of those hostages? Or is he perhaps hiding with friends, safe? I turned to see a horrified Amy and step mom, who was not comforting Amy. Instead she whispered under her breath “serves him right.”. I almost choked on my tea that I was sipping on. What did she just say? No… she couldn't, wouldn't say something about dad like that, right? I stood up, glared at my step mom and told her and Amy that I “lost my appetite”. Grabbing Amy’s hand, we left home for some fresh air. Amy was in tears. My eyes were watery as well, but I would not show her that. I needed to be the mature one in the family, especially if dad is missing, for however long. It was good practice for being an adult anyways, I had two more weeks until I became eighteen years old, an adult. Maybe god just decided I needed the extra practice of living without dad before that birthday cake. I kneeled down to Amy's height and hugged her. “Don't worry. Nothing bad happened to dad. He’ll come home tonight smiling and laughing, with some souvenirs from Boston Harbor.” She calmed down a bit, sniffled a bit and let go of me. Smiling, she ran back inside. I wished I believed my own words though. Somehow, deep down I knew that it would take a miracle for dad to come back. Dad would've been caught eventually, that had always been a certain hovering fact that I would try to ignore but couldn't. I was right. The sky went dark, and the moon came back, but my father did not. Good night. Don't let the bedbugs bite! Whoever came up  with that phrase had the right idea, but I wished they gave some advice on how to avoid getting bites. The  big, hard bites I had that night like a lion eating away all of my courage in a few bites, if I even had any to begin with. My step mother told me those exact words, but I did not have a good sleep. I did not even blink that night, how could I when all I could feel was this ongoing feeling that something was wrong, and I had no idea how to fix it. Library- I woke up early that morning, and ran to the library. By the time I knew the rest of the household had woken up for breakfast, I had joined the busy streets surrounding town square, just like I had days earlier. I rushed past many folks, and all stared at me. Everyone was confused why I had rushed. Even I was. It's not like the library will gain legs and walk away. Perhaps though they stared because I was on target to crash into someone. Dazed in my thoughts, I did not notice anyone standing in front of me front of me until I crashed into him. It hurt, and I definitely got bruises on my knees. Slowly getting up to my feet, my attention left the bruises and onto the man. I’ve seen him before, always here to listen to my dads speeches. I could never tell if he liked them of not. He was tall, muscular, bearded, mid 30’s, and angry. Suddenly I no longer was worried over a few bruises. Nervously, I stuttered an apology to him. He did not say anything to me directly, but instead grumbled a few nasty words under his breath. Then he stood up, finally deciding to confirm my fears that he would hurt me. “Loyalist or Patriot.” He asked, to my shock. The shock quickly went away though. Nowadays people always asked whose side you’re on as a way to figure out if they like you or not. Answer incorrectly and you probably will wake up in a dark alley with a big bruise on your forehead and a a lot of blood coming out of a cut you can't seem to remember how you got. Answer correctly and you may of just gotten a new drinking buddy, much to the disliking of your former drinking buddy. Then you’d still wake up in a dark alley with a bruise and a cut! I did not answer right away. Instead I analyzed him. Nothing about him really stuck out, besides his bulging muscles. He wore a leather jacket, with pockets of all sizes. One appeared to have a scroll of one sort in it. Another had a bottle of ink. Nothing that could easily identify which side he was on. I decided to answer with the truth. “I don't know. Both sides hold compelling arguments.”. He looked angry for a moment, but he decided to instead of beating me up, he would chat with me. I felt too awkward to go away, seeing as he could still change his mind yet again and attack me so I stayed while he ranted about the patriots and tried to convince me Loyalists was better. He spoke quickly, and ruthlessly about the patriots, even mentioning my father at one point. I wanted to hurt the man when he insulted my father, but I was too scared. Finally the man paused, looked at me and asked “So whose side are on now?” I told him loyalists which satisfied him. It was getting a bit dark, we both must of lost track of time. He looked on his watch and with him distracted, I bolted away, towards the library, and its big decorative doors. I love to go to the library. If I did not have to sleep, eat, or go to the bathroom, nothing would stop me from making a fort out of the books and reading every moment for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, life is not that easy, but I still manage to come once a week here at the very least. I have visited enough that the library feels like a second home. This place is full with stories of lives full of happy endings and never ending mysteries that I could travel in and leave whenever I wanted. Each book stood tall and next to a even bigger book, All the books stood on dozens of bookshelves taller than several men put together, and they all circled around Miss Frode, a kind middle aged woman who likes to think that she is related to a Danish king. She would help me, I’m sure she would. A few turns in the maze of books and I see a older woman, putting on eye shadow, and getting it all over books, one being a personal favorite of mine. It was not Miss Frode. Oh well, I‘m sure this woman can help me as well. Besides it's not like I have much of a choice, beggars can't be choosers after all. “Hello ma’am, do you have a section in the library about Britain and the war?” I asked, fingers fidgeting nervously. The old librarian stared at me, confused that someone had came to the library. After a moment of awkward silence where she looked all around me to check that I’m not a weirdo, she winked at me and pointed toward a dusty unexplored dark corner, where a single bookshelf stood, about half the size of all the other ones surrounding the two of us. “Over there, darling.” she smiled, and nudged me to walk toward the dark, mysterious, abandoned section of the library. Why is it not as taken care of as the other parts of the library? Walking past possibly thousands of books, I thought of what sort of people would write them. The famous ones were written by literary geniuses. I know a bit about modern ones, Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Paine… my father. Stop thinking about him. Doing so will do no good. There was many windows in this library, none which were willing to shed even a bit of light where I walked toward. As I looked at the tiny shelf I realized that it had only a few books. As I started grabbing a book on the bottom shelf, the large decorative doors slammed open, and in came a man. Judging by the large scar on this mans face and his broken nose, I did not want to mess with him. Quickly I grabbed my books and hide behind the shelf, attempting to breathe quietly. The man started chatting with the librarian, who acted confident around this man. If she could be confident to speak to him, I should be able to sneak a peek. Turning, I realized this stranger was no stranger at all, but a allie. I’ve seen him in my home a few times before, always with a beer in one hand, a quill in the other, and my father in front of him. I don't remember this man's name, but if he is a friend of my fathers, perhaps he could help me find him. I got up and cautiously walked towards the man, and when I got to him, tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. Startled, he nearly dropped what he was holding, When he turned around to see me, he brightly smiled for a moment. Then as quickly as the smile came, it disappeared. “Come Adam, young one.” He said, with a sense of urgency in his voice. He gentured me to follow him, so I did. He took large strides as he speed walked, so large that I had to jog a bit to keep up, and I’m nearly a adult. Wait, how does he know my name when he only speaks with my father? I turned my head to see the librarian, who winked at me, and then spoke in a deep French accent to the man “Be careful. Our mission may rely on rather or not you can find Damiyon Lyrons.”. How do you know my father, and what mission? Were the last two thoughts I had before I left the library. Meeting Place- The two of us walked past the town square and turned past several blocks. Right, left, left, right, left, right, left, right, forward, right- I tried to remember the directions we were going to. What am I doing? I don't even know this man's name. Practically jogging, by the time this man had stopped I was a sweaty mess. The man pointed toward the building we had stopped in front. I tried to pay close close attention. He knocked on the door, in a special rhythm. Reminds me of those patriot and spies I hear about constantly. They had all sorts of codes to get around. A woman voice came from inside, asking for a password. The man began to sing a tune that I recognized, my father hummed it to himself all the time. I tagged along and sang with him. The man grinned at me and gestured me to come inside as a young woman opened the doors. “Your truly your father's son.” Looking side to side, finally confident that no one is watching us, we stepped inside. The doors slammed behind me. I gazed around this building. I had never seen a place like it before. It was smaller than the library, with few books shelves, yet here I was surrounded by this feeling of knowledge, through every crack in the wall, loose documents on the floor, and bullets in the- Wait, bullets? The man began to speak, taking my attention away from the bullets. “This place is  a meeting place for us patriots. Your father being one of them. We want to-” “I don't even know your name.” I interrupted. They started at me, with the you-don't-know-who-i-am? Expression. Perhaps I should of kept my mouth shut, like step mom always told me. No, she also wants me to become a Loyalist so her ways are flawed. Then again, so is my fathers. “Names Revere. Paul Revere” Paul said. My mouth gaped, I was standing in front of a famous patriot. I gestured him to continue. He smiled at that. “Straight to the point. I like that about you. Just like your mother.” He knew my mother? But she died years ago! “Me, my wife, your father and late mother, and many others want to free the colonies from Britain. Britain refuses our complaints so we had took action. Unfortunately they had took a few patriots  including your father. We want you to help us find him.”. Me? Why me, I'm not nearly as brave as my father!? Paul walked to another room, and me and his wife followed him. I peered over Paul's wife, who I now recognized as Sarah Orne Revere. Sarah pointed towards a table, completely covered with a map of our town. It was a detailed map, with every house included in it including my own. One part of the map popped out the most to me, and that was the Boston Port, as it had been circled with a bright red ink. Nearby I could see the quill used to do it. “A good 20 British spies visited our little tea party two nights ago.” Paul began to speak. “We think majority of them are-” “From Boston or at the very least, Boston's neighboring towns and cities.” Sarah finished Paul's thought. “If we could find one of the Boston Spies, we could find the hostages.” She then pointed to a bag of money. “We don't want to provoke violence so we will trade money for the hostages. If that does not work, then we have no choice but to take out our guns.” She tapped on a item inside a pocket of her coat, presumably a gun. I got a few goose bumps looking at it. “But what do you need me for to do that?” I asked. What could I do? I just wanted to find my dad, not take hostages. “Your going to help us find the spy.” Paul and Sarah said, togather. “You know Boston better then the two of us do. You’ve been here since you were born, a staggering seventeen years.” Sarah explained. “Go to those you suspect. We will do the rest, easy peasy!”  I sighed and nodded. They were not wrong after all, they traveled a lot. I knew Boston and all its folks, for the most part. Still how would I know who were British spies. I never payed attention to this kind of stuff. “I’ll do it, tell me where to start.” I say. They all smiled at that and told me to start at town square, tomorrow and rest for the night. It was dark and I wont find anyone. So I made my way home, ignoring my step mother, frustrated at me being late, and ignored my sister, frustrated that i had not played with her. I even ignored my negative thoughts for the first time ever, all the thoughts that were frustrated with my lack of action. I had a dream. I was a lion, a pretty bad one. I’d run from the face of danger, even if I did not have to confront it. In this dream I was confused why my name was Lyron. Id’ make a much better zebra or deer, as i'd run easily away from danger. Unfortunately, running would not help anyone. Tomorrow. I won't run away, I’ll save my dad. A Speech Meant for All- That morning I woke up early. I rushed downstairs to open the pantry for some breakfast. I had not opened the pantry in some time, as my stepmother made it off limits to me and Amy, but I did not care today. I bet there was jam in there, that's why step moms dress and the pantry door had red stains in it. What I saw, was not jam. I nearly screamed and woke everyone in the house up. I fell backwards and stared. What the? Is that a… red coat? No, that can't be. Step mom was never into the patriots but her working for the British? I grabbed the uniform and stuffed it in my bag. I’d show it to dad when I found him and he could confirm or disprove my beliefs, that stepmother may just be one of the British spies. Could the red spots I saw on the door and dress be blood? Maybe that's why step mom panicked when she saw me come home early! Maybe- no stop, making useless  accusations won't help anyone. I took a few slow breaths and got up. I was ready. Slamming the doors open, I walked to town square. I had to find the man I bumped into yesterday, he would know all the British folks and where they met up. People on the same side tend to know each other. What? Did Paul and Sarah honestly thought I knew everyone body. Boston is huge, that's a fact that's hard to notice. My father had no idea that I was within ear shot vicinity. So when a Red Coat picked our door open and came in unwelcomed, my dad had no second thoughts on yelling his complaints to the soldier. Probably not even a first thought, this happened enough where it was a instinct for him now. “What do you mean I need to quiet! You need to quit talking about freedom, you nasty red coat. You know nothing of it, as you take it away from law following citizens such as myself!” He yelled. Normally I’d be scared when my father lost his temper, but this time I was curious. My two little legs carried me as fast as they could and led me behind the door, which I hid behind. (flashback) “Ha! Sir, sit down as you must of drank one cup of beer to much. The kings word is final and your words cross into the land of treason. Unless you want to be off with your head, dare say off with your families head, then you should stop.” The Red Coated soldier said, with a thick British accent. I shuddered. Even if I did not know what he meant by off with your head, the way he said it made it sound like a bad thing. My father thought it was a bad thing too, as he looked a bit taken back. This soon went away and he continued arguing. My father made a compelling argument, as he always did in these sorts of cases.  I smiled hearing my dad would not be defeated so easily. I wanted to cheer him but instead I stayed still like the respectful eavesdropper I am and listened to dads comeback. “Dear lord has the world truly became this corrupted! Sir, you seem like a smart fellow, prove me correctly. Why can Britien regulate our price of tea, yet we have no representatives to even mention that it's a horrible idea. The colonies have rights, just like individuals such as you and I have rights!” The soldier rolled his eyes and put his hand in his pocket, which even I knew held a gun. “I’ve been told your ideas are wacky but this is ridiculous. If you don't see reason soon, well you’ll just see how strict the king can be. If anything folks like you owe the king. It was his army that helped you win the French-Indian war, was it not.” “Enough with this nonsense. Be gone. Your kind has no rights in my home.” Dad suddenly roared. “On the contrary-” I never hear the rest of the soldiers sentence, as dad shoved him out and slammed him out the door. Aggravating the soldier did not seem like a good idea, and sure enough shots were fired as a glass window facing the front of our house shattered. That soldier did not get arrested, which just shows that they will get away with everything. I was five, and I lost my curiosity and grew to fear the soldiers. My dad was 29, he did not change. “And now I have to start talking for my dad to what may be a British spy?” I said out loud, to no one in particular. Most people were still sleeping or just started to wake up and have breakfast. The few folks who were out had not fully woken up yet, thus did not notice any word I said. (Back to present time) I had a plan, but unlike dad all those years ago, I’m not sure if I could do it. I was only brave enough to face a British soldier when I hid behind a door, and last I checked I did not become any braver through out those years. Still, I would have to do it, if I’m to find my father. Walking towards town square, I got up on the big box my father stood upon so many times, and started to talk. Word spilled out of my mouth, and I was not afraid whats others would think while I was up there. A few menacing people caught my glance here and there, but after a few hours I found the person who made it worth being glared at. The terrifying loyalist I met on my way to the library. He’d come every time dad made a speech, and he came when I made my own speech. I spoke neathier about Loyalist or Patriots but more on how they could both compromises. People were fascinated, and disappointed when I left the box to go speak to the loyalist. “Hello again. I don't believe I caught your name last time we spoke.” I said to the Loyalist, hoping he would not get to angry that I had ran away from him in our last encounter. “Philip Hopkins. Sorry for scaring yesterday. That was a inspiring speech you made today.” Philip responded. I thanked him and tried to ask about other British spies but he continued interrupting me with compliments about my speech. Finally I got the guts and quickly spat out what was on my mind. “Do you know any British spies who have taken hostages three nights ago?” I asked. He looked confused so I told him “I’m looking for my father and he went missing that night.”, hoping I did not provide too much information to this man. To my shock he took out the scroll of paper I saw yesterday, a ink bottle and a quill and began writing different British men and their addresses. When he finished writing it, he handed it to me and wished me good luck on finding my dad. I double checked and most of the names he had written were ones dad mentioned as Loyalists, so I could take this information as fact. I thanked him and practically skipped in pleasure away from him. Either way, I did not want to test my luck any further so my skipping turned into running as I looked at the names on the paper. One them being my stepmother, Diana “Turner” Lyons. I always thought of her as a turner of the lions. My dad roars his beliefs and step mom tried to prove him wrong, mess up his papers, small things like that but actually spying on him. Wow, she truly is the worst stepmother in the world. Wait till dad hears about this! One thing at a time. I looked at another person on the list, and went to their address. I went to their homes one by one and simply looked at their homes. I heard Britain paid their spies, but all the ones Philip listed lived in cramped homes. Most of their homes I did not bother visiting. I heard through gossip tat many left town for the week, including the night the Boston Tea Party happened. Finally I walked to the harbor. Waves hit the huge, nearly empty dock.There was only one ship there, the only place the hostages could be. It hit particularly hard on a large ship that used to hold tea. It looked like the waves wanted to enter the boat but the British ship could handle the strength of the wave. The Boston Harbor- I saw one of British men that was on Philips list. His name was Sir Christian Sharp, and I’ve heard my father mention him. He mentioned him often and with lots of detail. Sir Sharp is not much of a spy if a local patriot knows about your entire childhood and adulthood. I walked towards the harbor and saw that among Sir Sharp were several men wearing the recognizable matching red coats, the same I saw in the pantry that belonged to mom. The rest of the soldiers must of not gotten word of the new order, because as I looked around that was all the men here. Three soldiers total attempting to make up for the lack of comrades with big guns. I could get in the harbor, avoiding all three. If one did caught sight of me, well- I felt the metal object in my bag, right next to some snacks and moms red coat uniform. Dad’s old gun, fully loaded. Well then they would regret it. I won't hesitate to shoot if I have to. Hopefully. So I ran, as fast I could. I was a fairly fit seventeen year old, but since I was more of a bookworm then a jock, I did not expect to rush past everything so quickly. I was almost at the lonely ship on the dock-I tripped and fell face down. Fighting the urge to yell out in pain, I managed to get back on my feet, but I did not get much of a chance to run again, as I felt a cold hand tap me. Turning my head slightly, I saw the sleeve of the person who tapped me, it was red. I immediately fell to the ground, hands in the air. Then I suppose I must of blacked out. Perhaps it was from the blood coming from my forehead after I fell, or the British soldier knocked me out. I could not rule out the possibility that I had fainted. Looking around I saw two shadows, who appeared to be tied up. It was too dark to see their facial features. “Hello?” I asked, hoping someone would explain to me what was going on, that I was not alone. “Adam? Is that you?” a recognizable voice responded. The voice belonging to the man with he crooked glasses and intelligent eyes, My father. I found him. Smiling what I was sure was a huge grin, I stared in the direction I heard my dad, to my right. “Yes father, its me Adam. I’ve come to try to rescue you.” Dad chuckled at this, and as much as our situation was horrible, that laugh made feel good. Too bad I had to make it disappear, as I told him about step mom being a spy. The shadow sitting to me on the left turned out to be a loyalist who turned into a patriot. He tried to warn everyone during the Boston Tea Party that the British soldiers were coming but got caught. His name was Andrew Smith, one of the spies Philip wrote down on the list. Apparently Philip had not been informed that Andrew was only pretending to be a Loyalist.. Andrew had a pocket knife in his pocket, one that he could not use with his tied up hands. I could though my hands were free. The soldier must of saw me as minimal threat or did not have the required amount of rope to tie me. I grabbed Andrews knife to cut the ropes off him and dad, and we ran across the ship to other rooms to free other patriots. At one point Andrew pulled me away form the action and told me that my step mom was one of the people who set the capturing of these patriots up. Us patriots did not need sneak out. With over a dozen men and woman, some with guns in their clothing, we did not need to worry. Three red coats were no problem and we ended up tying them up. The looks on their faces, absolutely priceless. The patriots ran to their homes, but me and dad took our sweet time back home. We needed to discuss about what we were going to do next. By the time we came up with a plan to how to deal with mom, we were filled with energy that we wanted to use. I told him about step mom. We ran to the town square. Dad made a speech, and then I joined in. Certain audience members from the morning applauded upon seeing me, and Philip gasped when he realized I was the son of a patriot. My father was not so surprised, in fact he seemed rather proud. It was getting dark and it was time to put our plan into action. Racing each other home, I winked to my father as he went to find the door in our backyard. Am I ready? Ready as I’ll ever be. I grinned a little, and then the grin grew bigger, and bigger, until I had that same proud and intelligent grin of my father. I ran up the front steps and slammed the doors to my home open. The first thing I saw was step moms startled face. What's wrong mother? Didn't think I’d come back? I thought to myself as I walked in front of her, feeling taller than ever before. Perhaps I was actually taller, or maybe it was just a feeling that flowed through out my veins, followed along side my trapped rage. Confirmation- “Mother, I know what you are doing, you traitor.” I roared, hands crossed, hoping I looked intimidating. Amy peered from the kitchen, the stuffed toy lion with its nearly decapitated head in her hands. When she saw me, she dropped the dolls and nearly dropped the lion. Mother like the spy she is, quickly changed her expression to pure innocence. Amy walked towards stepmom. “Don't come near me yet.” I yelled to Amy. “Let me deal with our mother first.” “Deal with me? Why son, what ever have I done to deserve that tone of yours?” She exclaimed, practically gritting through her teeth. I nearly went and slapped her right there but I stopped myself. Losing my temper would not help anyone but my mother's case. Instead I grabbed her arm and spat in her face. Lions are brave, determined, and proud creatures. Wild yet graceful. Could easily protect themselves but choose to help other lions within the pride. They did not need to spy the prey like a jaguar, or be feed by humans like a domestic tabby. No, they went straight for the kill. While Amy’s stuff toy would not be attacking British spies anytime soon, I could, and would. “Your a British spy.” I told her, losing all expression in my face. “And I can prove it to you and Amy right here, right now. Now you can either come with me to the police or wait here like a sitting duck for spies from the side you oppose to come here.” All the color from her face disappeared, as she stared into me unforgiving eyes. She shook her head, possibly thinking no, No, NO! She tried to grab for something nearby, a vase and chucked it at me. I dodged it. Amy had disappeared, and hopefully to where I wanted her to be. A couple more thrown things at me and I had enough, and shoved her, hard. She fell on her butt, startled. Amy came back downstairs, with my father and Paul. Dad knocked mom out and Paul dragged her out, where two police men stood. One of them winked at me. Another glared at step mom. Amy hugged my leg. Dad wrapped his arm around me. I sat down on dads chair and began to write my own speech. If the audiences thought my dad could build waves of words, they had seen nothing yet. Wait till they saw my storms. Two years later in the middle of the Revolutionary War, I traveled on a ship to France. I needed them to help the colonies, no- the United States of America in the war effort. The sooner the war was over the sooner people will see that we can all compromise. The world needed France and I and a few others were chosen to convince them to help. Waves brushed the bottom of the ship, the wind roared. I laughed. My hair was neat, my glasses clean, my papers organized, but they might as well of been messy, crooked, and missing like dads because I did not need any of it.

[jiminandlemonade-blog]

I Can’t Fall In Love Without You - Part 2

I Can’t Fall In Love Without You

Jungkook series  

Part 2 of 5  

(A heart warming/tear jerker series)

Read the previous part here

You knew you would never be able to say goodbye to Jungkook at the airport. You would refuse to leave. Jungkook decided to come around to your house the day you were leaving and spend some quality time with you. "You know, I wont let it be like this forever" he stated, as you lay curled up into his body, face burrowed into his shoulder. "You keep saying that but I don't know how any of this is going to be made any better" you whispered, hoping that something would spring to mind to stop you from going.

"Y/N, we're 18 next year. You're entitled to do what you want. If you want to come back here, you can live with me" he promised. "Jungkoo-" he cut you off. "No Jungkook this or Jungkook that. If you really do want to come back, whether it's just to come home or to see me, you know that I'll always welcome you back with open arms".  

You both sobbed, the realisation was hitting you both that you were really going away for good. "Please don't forget about me" he sobbed, letting his grip loosen as you entered the car. "Never" you replied, tightening your grip, not wanting to let him go.  

You both gazed at each other, both wanting to say the same thing but not being able to let it escape your mouths. It wouldn't ruin anything, but you both didn't want the last words you said to each other to be 'I love you' as it would be the only part of the conversation you would ever remember and probably dwell on what could have been.

Jungkook got hold of the open car door and kept it open whilst peering in and kissing your forehead. "I'll see you soon okay?" He smiled, trying to be the stronger one. You nodded. The tears wouldn't fall. You had cried too much. You were just in a state of shock that this was all actually happening.  

The door closed and it felt like it slammed into your heart. You finally understood the meaning of feeling choked up. You didn't want to look up but you did. Why you did, you don't know but the sight would be etched in your head for eternity.

When you looked up, you caught a glimpse of Jungkook left standing in the drive way through the rear view mirror. His parents running over to him and consoling him as he fell to the floor, devastated. You both weren't just losing each other but the future that everyone thought you were destined to have.

The flight over there wasn't as bad as you thought. You slept all the way there through not being able to get any sleep the last couple of days. As soon as you landed, you had text messages from Jungkook asking how the flight was and if you slept well etc.  

You picked up the phone to call him and got the international dialing code. "Fuck, this is going to cost a fortune" you sighed as your parents went to collect everything you owned from baggage claim. "You know, you could be helping us Y/N" you heard your father shout as you were texting Jungkook back. "I wouldn't have to be trying to call Jungkook if you didn't move us here" you spitefully said. You didn't mean it, but you were still not over being taken away from the only boy you had ever loved.

Driving up to the apartment complex, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was beautiful. You certainly got more for your money here than you did back in y/c. Settling in and making sure your room was perfect took a few days. You hated how it was practically identical to your old room but this time, it didn't look out onto Jungkook's room, it looked out onto the Han River. In some respects, just as beautiful.

You kept in contact with Jungkook every day, even though it had to be through telephone calls because your wifi hadn't been set up and you also were trying to find the right tariff for your mobile. But during those phone calls, you both never mentioned the break downs, the emotional trauma you went through every night not being able to run to his house at 3am when you had a nightmare, the sorrow, loneliness and emptiness that you both felt..

You couldn't believe that you had only been in Korea a week and relearning the language for 2 since you found out about your Father's promotion and were already starting school tomorrow. After some comforting words from Jungkook, you went to bed. You were still nervous as hell, but it was wonderful to know somebody believed in you.

You woke up in a hot sweat at 3am and couldn't shake the scenes from your head. You reached for you phone, needing to hear his voice. It was at this moment you would have ran to his house, in your pyjamas, no make up, hair scraped back and bare foot to be consoled.  

"Please pick up, please" you sighed out loud, shaking from the nightmare you had just awoken from. It was horrendous. You dreamt that you were in an abandoned warehouse tied up with nowhere else to go and everyone who ever loved you was watched you as you were being tortured. Not exactly the best thoughts you wanted to be having the night before you first day at a new school.

"Jungkook, pick up! It isn't even late there" you stammered, reliving the call. He didn't pick up. But within seconds, the phone rang. "Jungkook, why didn't you pick up?" You asked hurriedly, wanting comfort from his voice. "I thought that because you ring me so often it will be costing you a fortune so I thought I would call for once, I bet it's expensive" he laughed off. "Thank you, but I really need to explain something" you stated. "Y/N, have you had a nightmare again?" You could hear him sigh down the phone. Not only was it hard for you that he wasn't there, but it was hard for him knowing that he couldn’t comfort you.

You explained your dream to Jungkook and as ever, he was so rational. "Don't worry, it's just first day nerves. Just think, if you hate it, you're only there for 3 more months and then you can come home for a while okay?" "More than a while Jungkook, I'll be coming home for good, I can't stand it here." You explained. "It's times like this where I really wish you weren't far away. I want to be telling you that everything is okay" he soothed. "But you are Jungkook" you smiled down the phone, hoping he would get the message, that it's okay. "But Y/N, words can only say so much. Sometimes, a hug or a touch is so much more healing" he sighed.

You understood, you missed it too. It was weird because you didn't think that you had the right to miss him in the way you now thought of him, like a boyfriend, because you weren't in a relationship or never were. Without you moving away, you both would have never known your true feelings so could this have all been destined to happen? Probably not, you didn't believe in fate. You always thought it was a cruel mistress.  

The day came and you were a bag of nerves, all you wanted to go is crawl back into your bed and hide. Thankfully, you attended an international school so you weren't thrown into the strict regimes Korean schools are notorious for as well as the language that you still hadn't quite mastered.

The bell for the apartment sounded and you were extremely confused. You weren't expecting anyone or anything, were you? "Delivery for Y/N" someone said at the door. "Yes, that's me" you smiled, slightly confused and speaking in broken Korean. The delivery man walked away from the door and around the corner where he brought a box of flowers. "For you Miss" he smiled as he handed you the flowers and walked away.

The flowers were beautiful. A vast array of colours and types of flowers and the smell was hitting your nostrils but not in such an overpowering way that you were worried to get red eyes for your first day of school.. However, it would have been a brilliant excuse to get out of it but unfortunately, the pollen count just wasn't high enough.

You reached for the card having no idea who it could have came from. 'To my Y/N, Good luck for today. I am so proud of you for fitting into your future. All of my love, your Jungkookie'. Tears pricked your eyes and you couldn't wait to call him and express your thanks and gratitude.  

"Y/N, we need to go" you heard your Mother call from the bottom of the stairs. "Okay, okay!" You shouted back, placing the flowers on the table before locking the door behind you. "Were those from Jungkook?" Your mother giggled as you ran past her in the hallway. "Yes" you beamed, running backwards and nearly into the glass door. "Figured" she laughed, opening the door for you that nearly just sent you into a coma.

The school didn't seem that daunting at all. For some reason, you expected everyone to be from a Korean background but they weren't. It made you feel a lot more comfortable that you would fit in. Because you were so close to finishing your qualifications, you only needed to attend lessons for the qualifications you were taking back home so would thankfully have a lot of free time to do your own thing for a few hours each day but unfortunately, all of your first lessons were taken up with mathematics.

"Excuse me, do you know where class 342 is?" You asked a passer-by in broken Korean. "Um, sorry? I speak English if that helps? Sorry. I just didn't catch the numbers" she replied sweetly. "Sorry, I only started re-learning the basics about 2 weeks ago. I used to study Korean when I was younger but my teenage years happened..." You droned on. "Sorry" you said, shaking your head, "I was asking for class 342". "Mathematics with Miss Yi?" The girl asked you. You nodded your head. "Follow me, I'm in the same class! What's your name new friend?" She giggled, interlinking your arm. "Y/N.. And you?" You asked, thankful that you fit in. "Chae-Young" she replied.

The whole set up of the classroom was not what you expected. You had a stereotypical idea of a normal classroom but expected the atmosphere to be somewhat more tense than expected in a school, yet here, it was a vast room with many computers and other stations to get on with your work independently. "Sorry Y/N, we can normally do whichever activities suit our learning styles best once Miss Yi has taught us but I still have a task to finish from yesterday so I'll be over here" she stated, pointing to one of the computers next to the wall. You smiled and assured her that it was okay to leave you.

You got out your phone and text Jungkook.  

Y/N: I think I'm going to like it here after all

The only downside is you not being here

You got a fright when your phone buzzed back. You didn't expect Jungkook to text back at all, especially since you thought he would be sleeping. The buzz caused you to jump back and knock a text book to the floor.

"Y/N, you're so stupid. How come you're going to make such a rubbish impression on the first day?" You tutted away to yourself, as your fumbled around with you text book and other strewn pieces of paper that had fell out.  

Foot steps slowly started to come over to you and quickened their pace when they realised that you were struggling to pick up all of the pieces of paper "Chae-Young, I'm such an idi-" you stopped mid sentence. You couldn't help but notice that those feet and legs belonged to a man. Your gaze slowly went up the stranger's body.

Your heart fluttered, it was a while since you felt this way. The last time you felt this way was when you saw Jungkook walking out of the shower in his towel when he didn't know you came over his house one day after school. Your eyes were gawping as your slowly stood up. "My name is Kim Taehyung, do you need some help?"

*Unread text*

Jungkook: Don't go finding a Korean man to replace me! 😉

PART 3

MASTERLIST

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

342 of 2022

Name: Joeri. Age: 32. Gender: M Height: 180 cm. Starting Weight: I don't even remember, 85 kg? Current Goal weight: 60 kg. Ultimate Goal weight: 50 kg. Lowest weight: 55 kg. Highest weight: 85 kg. Favorite Diet food: Veggies in any form. Favorite Binge Food: Pasta, I think. Favorite exercise: Riding bikes. Does anyone know? I don't know for sure. I think some people might suspect. What makes you slip up? Stress. When did it start? At the age of 14, I think. What do you see when you look in the mirror? Something ugly. Is it for attention? Not at all. I hate attention. Are you the fat or the thin one in your group of friends? Technically the thin one, but I feel fat anyway. Are you depressed: I think I'm coming back to it. HAVE YOU EVER: [] Tried to commit suicide [] Cut yourself [] Ever been to a psychologist [] Lost weight [] Gained weight [] Drank [] Smoked [] Taken drugs [] My weight affects my mood [] I weigh myself daily. [] Fasted [] Skipped a meal [] Chew and spit [] B/P SEXUALITY: [] Bi [] Lesbian [] Gay [] I've had a crush on someone of the same sex [] I've had a crush on a teacher [] I am a cuddler [] I've kissed in the rain [] I've hugged a stranger [] I have kissed a stranger I'VE DONE: [] Weed [] Cigarettes [] Alcohol [] Diet pills [] Pain killers [] Sleeping pills [] Anti-depressants/Mood supporters [] Ecstasy [] LSD [] Mushrooms [] Speed [] Cocaine [] Other Oxys and nuerontin Currently: [] anorexic [] ednos [] bulimic [] living off laxative/diet pills [] hungry [] thirsty [] drinking something [] Under 40kg [] fasting/starving myself People: [] have asked if I'm anorexic/bulimic [] have called me fat [] have said I'm skinny [] have said I'm ugly [] have said I'm pretty [] spread rumors about me [] forced me to eat [] say I eat too much [] wish I'd eat more I wish: [] I was THIN [] I had a better body [] I didn't have to eat [] I could control myself [] I was under 100 lbs [] I could avoid food [] I could hide what I am [] I wasn't fat [] I was pretty I love: [] feeling hungry [] seeing a difference when fasting [] shaking [] feeling airy [] losing weight [] being anorexic/bulimic [] coffee [] green tea [] diet pills [] being able to turn down food [] feeling good about myself Appearance: [] I am shorter than 5'4 [] I think I'm ugly [] I have scars [] I wish my hair was a different color [] I have friends who have never seen my natural hair color [] I have a tattoo [] I am self-conscious about my appearance [] I have/had braces [] I wear glasses/contacts [] I would get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free of cost, and scar-free [] I've been told I'm attractive by a complete stranger [] I have more than 2 piercings [] I have piercings in places besides my ears [] I have freckles Family: [] I have a sibling at least 18 years older then me. [] I've sworn at my parents [] I've run away from home [] I've been kicked out of the house [] My biological parents are together [] I have a sibling less than one year old [] I want to have kids someday [] I've had children [] I've lost a child/baby [] I can't have children Relationships: [] I'm single [] I'm in a relationship [] I'm engaged [] I'm married [] I've gone on a blind date [] I've been the dumpee more than the dumper [] I miss someone right now [] I have a fear of abandonment [] I've cheated in a relationship [] I've gotten divorced [] I've had feelings for someone who didn't have them back [] I've told someone I loved them when I didn't [] I've told someone I didn't love them when I did [] I've kept something from a past relationship Bad Times: [] I've consumed alcohol [] I regularly drink [] I can't swallow pills [] I can swallow numerous pills at a time without water [] I have been diagnosed with depression [] I shut others out when I'm upset [] I take anti-depressants [] I'm anorexic or bulimic or have ednos [] I've slept an entire day when I didn't need it [] I've hurt myself on purpose [] I've woken up crying [] I've fallen asleep crying [] I've lost weight [] I've gained weight [] My weight holds me back [] Weight consumes me [] I'm at my thinnest [] I'm at my biggest [] I've lost weight and kept it off [] I've lost weight but gained it back [] My weight affects my mood [] I weigh myself daily [] I am jealous of everyone smaller than me [] I hate compliments [] I want to tell people to "stop lying" when they compliment me [] I feel bigger than people who are my size [] I feel happy when I'm hungry [] I get depressed after I eat [] I've skipped a meal [] I've thrown food away [] I've spit food out [] I've fasted [] I've taken diet pills [] I've used laxatives [] I've purged [] I exercise [] I exercise so I can eat [] I work out secretly [] I work out daily [] I've fainted from exhaustion Habits: [] I keep my eating habits a secret [] I look at thinspo [] I count calories [] I've had negative intake days [] I avoid food [] I hate food [] I love food [] I want to be this way [] I don't want to be like this [] I wish I could have more control [] losing weight is my top priority [] I am in treatment [] I'm doing this for me

[ayearofpike]

Spooksville #12: The Hidden Beast

Pocket Books, 1996 120 pages, 10 chapters ISBN 0-671-55073-X LOC: CPB Box no. 342 (Stored at Landover) OCLC: 35300821 Released September 1, 1996 (per B&N)

Bryce Poole has finally come to the Spook Squad for help. His cousin Leah has come into a treasure map and needs some help understanding it, and if Bryce can't do it he knows someone who can. The gang still doesn't quite trust him, but they soften their stance when Leah offers them half of what they find. But ... maybe they should have stuck with their instincts, they realize, when Leah takes off with the treasure and two of the kids get stuck in a cave with an angry dragon.

I know, I know. You're wondering the same thing I was: do these assholes ever have to go to school? As it turns out, this has been one summer so far, with an adventure every week on average. With only a couple of days until school starts, the gang is itching for something else to do, and Bryce knows it. He catches them at the donut shop and entices them with the promise of wealth beyond imagining. His cousin Leah is just outside with a map that could lead them to treasure, but the map and its instructions are hidden behind a riddle that neither she nor Bryce has been able to solve.

Sally has done a 180 on Bryce Poole since he almost got her killed in the ancient past, and so she doesn't want anything to do with it. Adam and Watch are mostly of the same mind, but all it takes is the offer to split the riches for them to agree that it couldn't hurt to look. So Leah comes in, and of course she's a beautiful teenager who makes Cindy jealous even though she's five years older. She shows them the map and the riddle, which takes Watch about five minutes to figure out: they have to go to this set of unusually sharp hills deep in the mountains and wait for Venus at its apogee to cast a shadow on the tallest and narrowest peak that will reveal a door, where there are speaking crystals guarded by an ancient pet, whatever that means. Leah is thankful but not excited, somehow, and they determine to set out that day, as tomorrow morning Venus will be at its highest and brightest, with no moon.

So Leah gets ahold of a truck and the kids ride out as far as they can before they have to start hiking. (There is a token mention of getting parental permission to camp that night, in case you were worried.) Watch knows it's solidly six hours to the mountain, and they make it four before dark, when they have to make camp at a pond fed by a spring that literally sprays out of the cliff wall. This far from civilization, though, they'll have to consider wild animals, especially in Spooksville. No problem, Watch says: the fire should keep them away, and he'll set an alarm so he can get up and feed it. Leah wants to know what time Watch will be getting up, just out of curiosity.

Or so she says. Next thing Adam knows, Watch is shaking him awake. Leah is gone, no doubt ahead on the path so she can stiff the kids and abandon them in the mountains. Bryce is still there, but that proves nothing because they could have coordinated it ahead of time. They decide to try and catch her, and they've been around the girls long enough that they know not to leave them behind like chauvinist dickholes. Bryce comes, too, and they eventually make it to the mountain, where there's a ledge near the top fronted by a polished statue that has a small hole in it, blocked by another rock. When they remove the rock, Venus shines through the hole and onto the cliff wall behind it — and the perfect circle cast by the light of the planet reveals a door that swings open into the mountain.

This peak being so tall and narrow, of course all they see inside is a staircase. They make their way to the bottom, where there's a pool of water and a flicker of light in the distance. They follow it, but pretty quickly they hear a rumbling, rasping sound. Kind of like some enormous creature breathing. Fortunately, there's enough room to quietly edge around it, and right behind it is the promised treasure room, full of gold coins and gemstones and jewels. But in the middle of it all are four silver stands, two of which are topped with gigantic quartz crystals. These must be the stones alluded to in the riddle, and obviously Leah has already been here and taken two of them. Sally goes to pick up another — and holy crap the giant monster in the other room starts waking up. She puts it back, and the thing falls asleep, and they get past again and run for it.

Only not fast enough. The sun is starting to rise outside, and the door is closing. Bryce and Sally get there first, and slow it down enough for Adam to squeeze out, but Watch and Cindy are too slow. The door actually catches Adam's jacket before it turns back into solid rock, leaving him no choice but to shrug out of it. So now what? Venus isn't up again until tomorrow morning, and it might not even work again. All they can do is try to chase Leah down so they're not trapped in the mountains, and try to figure out where another entrance to the cave might be so they can go back for their friends.

Cindy and Watch have no choice, meanwhile, but to go back down the stairs and get a drink from the pool. While they're down there, they hear the thing wake up and go into its treasure room — and roar with rage. As they're scrambling to get away from it, it hears them, but they manage to get far enough up the tunnel to be safe from its fire breath. It's then that Watch recognizes what the beast is, and figures it's smart enough that he can try to reason with it. He yells down that they don't have the crystals, and the dragon responds by trying to convince them to come talk to it so she (yeah, they determine the dragon is a she) can get her property back. But Watch knows she's just trying to get a meal, and holds Cindy back from the dragon's hypnotic effects. This only makes her mad, though, and she squeezes enough info out of them to know that some girl named Leah is out there with her crystals and there's a town called Spooksville that she can lay waste to until she gets them back.

She leaves the cave (not the way the two kids trapped inside are hiding; it's too small for a dragon) and chases down Adam, Sally, and Bryce, who have had no luck finding Leah. She corners them in another cave and tries to get more info from them, and when all three of the kids are stronger-willed than Cindy she attempts to turn the cave into an oven. Fortunately, Sally has a heat-repellent tent in her bag, which saves the kids from slow-roasting. The dragon takes off, and they have to think of some way to slow her down. What if they could raft down a river and get to Spooksville before her, to warn the people? As it happens, Bryce has a raft stashed up here in the mountains, along with an emergency cell phone that he can use to warn Leah. But she doesn't want to hear it, and hangs up on her cousin.

Meanwhile, Watch and Cindy aren't getting any safer staying in the cave. They decide to explore the opposite direction and find OH HOLY GOD ANOTHER DRAGON. But this one is a kid, and interested in getting to know humans rather than eating them. He tells them that his mom uses the crystals to talk to dragons on other planets, which makes them realize they can try to call Leah on them. Of course, she hangs up the crystal on them too, however one does that, so the only recourse is to ask Little Dragon to fly them out of the cave and to go find her before his mom does. There's just one problem: Little Dragon is afraid of heights.

Rafting down the river, Sally has a brainstorm: there's a rocky outcropping near the power plant outside town that, if painted gold, might get a dragon's attention. While she was investigating, they could shoot down the power lines and stun her for a little while, maybe even long enough to get Leah to give back the crystals. Bryce apparently has gold paint stashed nearby, as well as a hunting rifle, and they set up their trap. Sure enough, Mama Dragon comes swooping down and they manage to knock her out. But OH FUCK HERE COMES ANOTHER DRAGON.

And this is the first time I'm really bugged by Pike's storytelling in the Spooksville series. Because Little Dragon has not only Watch and Cindy, but also Leah on his back. He has persuaded Leah to return the speaking crystals, and given her a handful of diamonds in thanks. But Pike just TELLS us this. As every storyteller has heard at some point in their craft, showing an audience what happened is much more effective than telling them. We're just expected to believe that a sociopath who would abandon five twelve-year-olds (one of them RELATED TO HER) in the mountains is happy to return this priceless treasure to an animal. PLUS: what happened to the fact that Little Dragon was afraid to fly? It's never mentioned again. Apparently he was totally cool with this crippling, paralyzing fear to help some humans he literally just met. My suspicion is that Pike got to this point and realized he was running up against a page limit for the series and had to cut a whole bunch. But it makes the story fall flat at the end. Like: did the kids actually HAVE to electrocute a dragon if Little Ex Machina was gonna show up and make her calm immediately? Get your ass to rewrites.

So that's The Hidden Beast, and with that we are halfway through Spooksville. There are a few untied ends that still have to be looped back, and maybe Pike is starting to do that. We still don't know very much about Watch, except that he's starting to be willing to open up to Cindy but he's not totally ready yet. But check out that next book title: I expect we're going to start school pretty soon, and school in Spooksville will be just as screwed up as the rest of the town.

[discovermorepassionharder]

Harry Potter and the Muggle Generation

One time at university, I had to write a paper about a book or movie that strongly impacted the subject of English Writing. I convinced my professor to let me write about HP. 

Witches. Wizards. Muggles. Voldemort. Hogwarts. Each of these are memorable aspects of the well-known, well-received Harry Potter book series written by J.K. Rowling. The magical adventures of Harry, Ron, and Hermione are considered by some to be a pivotal part of the Millennial Generation’s upbringing. As such, it is hard to come across a single millennial who has never heard of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series, regardless of whether or not they have actually read the books or seen the movies. By the time the seventh book in the series was released, the first six books had cumulatively sold over 325 million copies. At 8.3 million copies, the release of the seventh book set the record for most books sold within twenty-four hours in the United States. As a whole, the Harry Potter series has sold roughly 450 million copies worldwide and is the best-selling book series of all time (Vezzali, “Greatest Magic” 1). On top of all that, the Internet is filled with Harry Potter fanfictions, video games, merchandise, and even social media sites: Mugglespace.com, Mugglenet.com, the-leaky-cauldron.org, and Pottermore (to name a few), all of which have been written, designed, and created by passionate fans who just want to keep the magic alive. In fact, if you google the phrase “Harry Potter” you get 143,000,000 results in 0.61 seconds.

Based on those numbers, the widespread circulation of the series is indisputable. However, in some cases, it is more than just a story. Research shows that Harry Potter fans tend to be more tolerant and accepting of others, as well as more likely to promote equality. When we understand the indirect contact hypotheses and apply them to the world of Harry Potter, we are able to further understand the deeply ingrained influences of this widely popular book series in the lives of the Millennial Generation.

There are several different hypotheses and mechanisms that are explored throughout these studies in an effort to determine how Harry Potter manages to have such a lasting impact on its readers. The most broad categorizations of these hypotheses are direct and indirect contact. Direct contact refers to face-to-face contact between intergroup members as a means of reducing prejudices. However, this form of contact is not always ideal, or even possible. Instead, indirect contact often finds more favor as an effective prejudice reduction strategy. This form of contact is easily implemented in situations where there is little to no opportunity for direct contact, or if members of separate groups are unwilling to interact face-to-face with one another. Indirect contact can be further broken down into two strategies: extended contact and vicarious contact. “Extended contact: knowing that an ingroup member is friends with an outgroup member, and vicarious contact: observing an ingroup member interacting with an outgroup member” (Vezzali, “Improving” 315). Wright and colleagues performed a series of studies in order to test the extended contact hypothesis. The first study provided evidence supporting the basic idea that knowing ingroup members with outgroup friends helping in reducing prejudices. The second study replicated the results of the first by considering a minority sample, and thus proved that the effects of extended contact are not limited to majority group members (Vezzali, “Improving” 323). Finally, the third study addressed causality. Evaluations were done on ingroup members both before and after the experiment-- which included conducting two different interactions between ingroup and outgroup members, and then sharing the “results” with other members of the ingroup. The results of this study showed that members of the ingroup, who heard secondhand about a positive experience that other members of their ingroup had just had with outgroup members, displayed less bias in resource allocation and outgroup evaluation (Vezzali, “Improving” 342).

In the study of vicarious contact, there are several different outlets through which this contact can be experienced. The one that applies most to the study of Harry Potter is vicarious contact via the media, namely through reading stories and books. In this case, the intergroup contact is “experienced” through the author, rather than being watched, however the effect proves to be similar (Vezzali, “Improving” 344).

The world of Harry Potter, although fictional, still depicts social hierarchies and resulting prejudices that resemble our own society. In the first book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, we are able to view this exchange between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy: “And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.’ Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy look at him. ‘Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.’ He turned back to Harry. ‘You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there’” (Rowling, Sorcerer’s Stone 108). In this brief exchange, the reader has already been introduced to a supposed hierarchy within the wizard world. We can see people claiming superiority over those who are different from them, and, as such, excluding them from their day to day lives. People without magic, also known as Muggles, are often discriminated against in the wizarding world. Wizards and witches who are born to families where only one parent has magical abilities are similarly discriminated against.  These half-bloods, occasionally referred to using the slur “mud-blood” are often the subject of name-calling and made to feel inferior to “pure bloods”-- witches and wizards born of two magical parents. Other examples of stigmatized groups include goblins, house elves, and half-giants. In the case of Harry Potter, Hermione, and Ron, each of these characters can be seen interacting and forming friendships with members of the so-called outgroups. “‘If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain,’ said Griphook finally, ‘it would be you, Harry Potter. Goblins and elves are not used to the protection or the respect that you have shown this night. Not from wand-carriers… As the Dark Lord becomes ever more powerful, your race is set still more firmly above mine!... and who amongst the wand-carriers protests’ ‘We do!’ said Hermione. ‘We protest!’” (Rowling, Deathly Hallows 488-489). In this excerpt from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, readers can observe that the kindness which Ron, Harry, and Hermione show to non-wizard creatures in not typical of the customs of their world. Their actions, attitudes, and beliefs are what set them apart from everyone else.

In the context of this research, the extended contact hypothesis suggests that simply knowing that a member of the in-group is friends with members of an out-group is enough to reduce prejudice (Vezzali, “Greatest Magic” 2). This hypothesis can be put to the test in regards to Harry, Ron, and Hermione befriending Hagrid the half-giant. When other Hogwarts students see the trio interacting with and becoming friends with Hagrid, it is likely to reduce their preconceived judgments, and even motivate them to pursue friendships of their own.

Loris Vezzali proposes a new type of extended contact, similar to vicarious contact, which suggests that when a reader connects and relates to a character, they are able to adopt that character’s morals, prejudices, or attitudes of acceptance (Vezzali, “Greatest Magic” 3). This new extended contact theory insinuates that when a reader relates to Harry, Ron, or Hermione they are able to let go of some of their preconceived prejudices and begin to adopt more tolerance towards out-group members, similar to the way the Harry and his friends treat the characters they come into contact with. Vezzali conducted three studies to test her theories. The first study was among 34 fifth-grade elementary schoolers, in which they were read selected passages from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and then took part in a group discussion. Part of the selected passage in this study includes a tense exchange between Draco Malfoy, and a number of Harry’s friends: “‘No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood, [Draco] spat… Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, ‘How dare you!’, and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, ‘You’ll pay for that one, Malfoy!’ and pointed it furiously under Flint’s arm at Malfoy’s face” (Rowling, Chamber 112). The selected text goes on to include Ron explaining to Harry why being called a “Mudblood” is so offensive: “‘It’s about the most insulting thing he could think of,’ gasped Ron, coming back up. ‘Mudblood’s a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born… There are some wizards-- like Malfoy’s family-- who think they’re better than everyone else because they’re what people call pure-blood’” (Rowling, Chamber 116). The results of this study determined that when children identified more with Harry Potter and his friends they exhibited improved attitudes towards immigrants. If the reader sees Malfoy’s use of a slur as utterly offensive as the other characters, then they are likely to adapt those morals into their own lives, and as a result will be more accepting or kind towards those who are different from them. Conversely, when students associated more with characters such as Draco Malfoy or Voldemort they were likely to display negative out-group attitudes (Vezzali, “Greatest Magic” 6).

The second study done by Vezzali aimed to replicate the effects of study 1 by using the same passage, only this time among older, high school students in reference to a different out-group, namely homosexuals. This second study concluded that book reading only improved the attitudes of those who identified more with Harry Potter, and had little to no effect on those who did not identify with the main character (Vezzali, “Greatest Magic” 7). In the final third study, Vezzali aimed to understand the underlying factors of perspective taking on the potential effects of the Harry Potter series. The results of this study showed that “Harry Potter book reading was positively associated with perspective taking toward refugees only among those less identified with Voldemort” (Vezzali, “Greatest Magic” 11).

In a similar series of studies, Anthony Gierzynski and Kathryn Eddy hoped to prove that Harry Potter fans are more likely to exhibit political perspectives that parallel the lessons and character traits that are prominent in the series (Gierzynski, 6). Overall, they found that “Harry Potter fans tend to be more accepting of those who are different, to be more politically tolerant, to be more supportive of equality…” (Gierzynski 6). The first hypothesis tested questioned whether the fans of Harry Potter would exhibit greater acceptance than non-fans of diversity and differences. They asked respondents to rate on a five point scale how they felt about several commonly discriminated groups in the United States-- Muslims, African Americans, undocumented immigrants, and homosexuals. The findings of this study suggest that those who read the books or saw the movies, typically rated “warmer” feelings towards the minority groups in question. (Gierzynski 52). The second hypothesis that was tested questioned if Harry Potter fans would exhibit greater levels of political tolerance than non-fans. This study compared fans and non-fans on a test designed to measure their political tolerance. The respondents were asked a series of questions to assess their tolerance of minority groups (similar to the list of minority groups used in the first study). Their responses to each question were added together to create an “intolerance score” for each individual. The results showed that “those who read all the books exhibited higher levels of tolerance than those who did not” and that Harry Potter fans seem to express “more support for government promotion of equality than nonfans” (Gierzynski 52-55). This result is important to note, especially in today’s culture where the fight for equality-- both in terms of gender and sexuality-- is on the rise and has become an integral part of our society.

While it is essential to understand the impact that Harry Potter and his friends have had on the millennials that grew up reading about them, it is now just as important that understand that these studies do have their own limitations. It is easy to observe the widespread circulation of the Harry Potter series among the Millennial Generation, and thus be interested in understanding the impact the books have had on its readers. However, if one were to measure the impact of Harry Potter on generations that have come after the Millennials, the effects may be different. The future generations will not be growing up in the midst of the excitement of each book or movie release, so they might not be as deeply impacted by the morals and values of the series. Because of this “it is important to identify and test other popular novels that can have similar effects and that can be equally appealing to young readers” (Vezzali, “Greatest Magic” 14). This limitation can be overcome, not only by finding similar popular novels, but also be encouraging book reading among young students. Whether this means encouraging students to read the Harry Potter series or promoting books with similar values, not only will this increase their literacy levels, but it will also increase their prosocial attitudes and intergroup relationships.

There is no doubt that the Harry Potter series has had a powerful effect on the Millennial Generation. Millions of children and young teenagers grew up alongside the adventures of a boy wizard-- reading the books, going to movie releases, dressing up in the costumes, and even playing and competing in real-life games of Quidditch. But the popularity of this series evidently stretches far beyond a story and some magical, made-up adventures. The effects of this series can be seen in the results, which show that Harry Potter fans have grown up to become more tolerant, more accepting adults.Each member of the Harry Potter Millennial Generation can find peace in knowing that they have been able to keep the magic alive. And that the effect of the Harry Potter series can even be used to impact the lives of generations to come.

Works Cited

Gierzynski, Anthony, and Kathryn Eddy. Harry Potter and the Millennials: Research Methods and the Politics of the Muggle Generation. Baltimore: John Hopkins UP, 2013. Print.

Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. New York: Arthur A. Levine Books, 1999. Print.

Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. New York: Arthur A. Levine Books, 2007. Print.

Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. New York: Arthur A. Levine Books, 1998. Print.

Vezzali, Loris, Miles Hewstone, Dora Capozza, Dino Giovannini, and Ralf Wolfer.  “Improving Intergroup Relations with Extended and Vicarious Forms of Indirect Contact.” European Review of Social Psychology 25.1. (2014): 314-89. Web.

Vezzali, Loris, Sofia Stathi, Dino Giovannini, Dora Capozza, and Elena Trifiletti. “The Greatest Magic of Harry Potter: Reducing Prejudice.” J Appl Soc Psychol Journal of Applied Social Psychology 45.2 (2014): 105-21. Web.