#when that category was meant to exist just for her

[theamazingannie]

The quiz questions were so unfair and by that I mean they were way too easy. They were meant to root out the catfish and their questions were “what is the simple term for domestic feline” and whether or not PRIMER literally meaning FIRST is the first step in the makeup process. I get there was plenty other drama going on for blocking but the whole game felt pointless

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ One of your girls .✦ 」

[Theodore Nott x reader]

Summary: Theodore Nott was the love of my life, the one I'd trade my whole world for. But this summer, I yearned for a different role in his life, even if it meant becoming just one of his girls

Warning:fluff,angst,smut, oral (f!received), fingering, lying about virginity,(+18)

Words:8k

In this world of labels there are , "good boys" and "bad boys," Theodore Nott existed in a category all his own. like devil in disguise, but manlier. And definitely hotter by like a thousand degrees .

As I stood there, captivated by his interaction with a Gryffindor girl, two stark realizations crashed over me. First, I desperately needed to refine my Marauder mischief skills. And More importantly, I needed to bridge the chasm between myself and Theodore. This summer, I wouldn't just be his little sister's best friend; I craved a different role in his life.

Lana's voice, sharp and cutting through my reverie, jolted me back to reality. "Y/N, are you with me?"

"Forgive me, my thoughts wandered," I muttered, composing myself with practiced neutrality.

“I was just saying, I really want Dad to approve this environmental camp," she continued, her enthusiasm undeterred.

"Absolutely," I agreed, forcing a smile. "Those Larus birds undeniably deserve all the protection we can offer." However, my gaze remained tethered to Theodore and his seemingly animated conversation with the Gryffindor girl.

"Right?" Lana beamed. "Perhaps Theo or Christian could help us sway Father?" Lana suggested hopefully.

"An excellent suggestion," I managed, a barbed comment forming on my tongue.

Perhaps your brother would engage in more productive activities than fraternizing with the Gryffindor girl. But I swallowed the retort.

"Christian can be a bit overprotective, bless his heart," Lana began, "but I do believe the 'puppy-dog eyes' technique, as he calls it, might work on Theo," Lana mused cheerfully.believe

A pang of curiosity shot through me. Could this "puppy eyes" technique be effective on Theo as well? I stifled the urge to inquire.

As if sensing my scrutiny, I almost choked on a gasp when he turned, our eyes locking for a beat too long. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, he resumed his conversation with the Gryffindor girl. My mind conjured elaborate – and disturbing – daydreams of her demise.

"Are you alright?" Lana's voice held a hint of worry.

"Perfect," I muttered, the word a lie heavy on my tongue. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of my escalating jealousy.

"Then let's proceed," she declared, taking my hand in hers.

The world became a blur as we walked, the proximity to Theo and his unwelcome companion amplifying my agitation. My pulse pounded in my ears, a relentless drumbeat against the backdrop of muted classroom sounds.

Finally, we passed them. Still, Theo's gaze lingered on me, a silent connection that sent a wave of heat through my body. Just as abruptly, , Then in a move that stole the breath from my lungs, the Gryffindor girl cupped Theodore's jaw, pulling him down for a rough, aggressive kiss. I averted my eyes, a wave of nausea washing over me.

“ EWWW “ Lana muttered, mirroring my own disgust.

“Perhaps," I ventured, my voice tight with unspoken emotions, "you should utilize those puppy dog eyes sooner before he gets distracted again “

Potions became a blurry mess of bubbling cauldrons and swirling fumes. Snape's usual scathing commentary faded into the background, as my mind replayed the scene on loop: Theo, his lips locked with the Gryffindor girl, a stranger who somehow managed to snag his attention. Her triumphant smirk as she pulled away felt branded onto my eyelids.

Jealousy gnawed at me like a rogue Flobberworm. Every stolen glance his way felt like a betrayal, a secret message only I could decipher. Was this what Lana meant by "puppy eyes"? Because right now, all I wanted to do was unleash my inner dragon and set the damn girl ablaze.

The Great Hall echoed with the boisterous chatter of lunchtime. As I joined my friends at the Slytherin table, a familiar warmth washed over me – camaraderie, yes, but something more potent simmered beneath the surface. My stolen glance at Theo, however, sent a jolt of conflicting emotions. He was already there, his dark eyes locked on mine for a lingering moment before he averted his gaze.

A playful tug on my braid brought me back to reality. Lana, a mischievous glint in her eyes, was trying to get me out of my misery that she can’t quite understand what gets me into

Mattheo, being his usual blunt self, decided to stir up some trouble, "Just want to make sure the rumors are true. Did our little Y/N break Cedric Diggory's heart?"he said, causing Theo's gaze to intensify on me, igniting a mix of excitement and nervousness within me.

"Sorry, what?" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay, y/n, we can see that you're at that age for those kinds of things. What puberty did to you can't go unnoticed,"

My cheeks burned a furious red. The air crackled with tension as Blaise's words hung in the air.

Before I could retort, a cold fury replaced Theo's usual nonchalance. "Shut the hell up, Zabini, before I make you."

His sharp tone silenced the table. I stole a glance at him, he looked relaxed despite his tone , his eyes locked in a silent battle with Blaise. And that was well- very awkward

Matteo, unfazed by Theo's outburst, pressed on. "Back to the broken heart thing, did you really ditch a date with Diggory?"

My cheeks burned under the scrutiny of the table. "It wasn't like that, he understood," I stammered, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "I just said I had to study."

Lana, oblivious to my boiling frustration, jumped in. "No, no, she's just being humble! Cedric was head over heels! He was moping around for days after she said no, his heart practically shattered. Still he can't seem to take his eyes off her today."

I shot her a glare that could curdle milk, but she just winked back, clearly enjoying the drama.

"Why'd you turn him down, then?" Blaise pressed, his amusement evident.

Theo, however, surprised everyone. "She's still too young for that," he muttered. Really? The audacity! My hand twitched, a silent promise of violence aimed at his handsome but infuriating face.

My temper flared. "First of all," I stated, fixing him with a hard stare, "I'm only a year younger than you. Second, I said no because it wouldn't be fair to either of us. I already have feelings for someone else."

A collective gasp rippled through the group.

"You never told me that!" Lana exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise.

"No," I said, trying to project a confidence I didn't entirely feel. My gaze locked with Theo's, daring him to look away. "I was planning on telling you… tonight."

"Who is this mystery man?" Matteo leaned forward, his tone laced with curiosity. "Do we know him?"

"No, you don't," I lied smoothly, a flicker of defiance sparking in my chest. "He graduated."

A wave of disappointment washed over Blaise's face. "Oooh, Y/N, you sneaky minx! Who knew you had that in you?"

The Hogwarts Express rumbled to a halt, signaling the end of the semester and the glorious (or dreaded, depending on who you asked) freedom of summer. Bidding farewell to Lana, whose eyes held a knowing glint that made me sweat, I trudged off the train, eager to reach the familiar comfort of my own home.

Living just two houses away from Theo and Lana meant constant proximity, which could be either a blessing or a curse depending on how things unfolded. The lie about a mysterious older boyfriend sat heavy in my stomach. It was a desperate attempt to buy myself some breathing room, a chance to navigate the confusing maze of emotions swirling within me.

The oppressive heat of summer hung heavy in the air, mirroring the nervous knot in my stomach. Lana's father had finally approved the conservation camp, and while I was happy for her, a pang of disappointment shot through me. That meant less time to figure things out with Theo.

Taking a deep breath I slipped into a summer dress – the kind that hugged my curves perfectly and left a trail of cool air on my skin.

Taking a deep breath, I crossed the two houses separating our homes and knocked on Theo's door. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. What was I even doing here?

The door creaked open, revealing Mrs. Finch, the Nott family housekeeper, her face etched with surprise. "Miss Y/N? What a surprise! Mr. Theo is the only one home, I'm afraid. Miss Lana's still out."

My cheeks flushed crimson. This was not the grand entrance I'd envisioned. "Oh!" I feigned surprise. "Goodness, how forgetful of me. I just realized I left something in Lana's room. Terribly sorry to bother you, Mrs. Finch."

The housekeeper's expression softened. "No trouble at all, dear. Just head on up, third door on the right."

With a mumbled thank you, I practically sprinted up the stairs, my heart thundering in my chest. This impulsive, poorly-planned visit was already spiraling out of control. Would he see through my flimsy excuse? Most importantly, what was I going to say to him once I was alone with him under the guise of borrowing something from Lana?

The familiar chaos of Lana's room swam before my eyes. Clothes littered the floor, forgotten textbooks sat precariously on the desk,I don’t know why she insisted that no one else but her clean her room when she barley do it

"Are you lost?"

The sound of Theo's voice cut through the mental fog. I spun around, heart hammering against my ribs like a frantic hummingbird. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long.

And then, his eyes scanned me from head to toe, a slow, deliberate sweep that sent a jolt of heat straight to my core. Merlin's beard, I wanted to be on my knees (respectfully, of course). That summer dress, the impulsive visit - everything suddenly felt like a terrible, wonderful mistake.

"N-no," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I, uh, just came to… borrow something from Lana." The lie tasted like ashes in my mouth, but I couldn't bring myself to confess my real motive. Not yet, anyway.

Theo pushed himself off the doorframe, taking a slow step closer. The air crackled with a tension that had nothing to do with the summer heat. "Is that right?" he drawled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. His eye held an unreadable depth that made my breath hitch.

"Yes," I managed, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "She mentioned a book on… Larus migration patterns? I thought I might borrow it for some summer reading."

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Larus migration patterns, huh? Sounds like a fascinating read for a summer day."

His words were laced with a double meaning, and a blush crept up my cheeks. Was he teasing me? Did he suspect my real reason for being here?

The silence stretched, thick and heavy. My carefully constructed plan was falling apart faster than a poorly brewed Amortentia potion. But before I could stammer out another excuse, Theo surprised me with a soft chuckle.

"Well," he drawled, his voice softer now, "since Lana's not here, perhaps I could help you find the book."

The breath caught in my throat. Here I was, caught red-handed (or rather, red-dressed), and yet, Theo's amusement was oddly disarming. His casual demeanor didn't quite match the intensity I'd glimpsed in his eyes moments ago.

"Really?" I squeaked, my voice barely above a whisper. The air crackled between us, charged with a sudden shift in energy.

A slow smirk played on his lips. "Yeah, why not? Did you want someone else to help you, maybe?"

He took a slow step forward, his presence filling the room. I instinctively leaned back, my back hitting the wall with a soft thud. A thrill shot through me as his eyes lingered on my face, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

"He's not here, though," he drawled, the amusement leaving his voice. "So bad."

Confusion clouded my mind. "He?" I stammered.

Theo's brows furrowed. "Oh, your older, hot crush? That's what you said, right? So you're here all dressed up and making excuses for nothing." The smile that had been playing on his lips vanished completely.

A wave of panic washed over me. "Are you kidding me?" I blurted out, unable to contain my frustration. Heat crept up my cheeks. "Are you that blind?" just then I realized the depth of my mistake. He thought my crush was Christopher, his own brother!

He was close now, so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hands braced themselves on either side of my face, caging me in. My breath caught in my throat.

"Trapped?" he murmured, his voice a low growl.

If looks could kill, I would have been dead. Theo's expression was a mix of anger, hurt, and confusion. I reached out hesitantly, my fingers brushing against his cheek. Thankfully, he didn't pull away.

"It's not Christopher," I whispered, my eyes darted drawn to the tempting curve of his lips.

"Oh yeah?" he challenged, his voice husky.

I couldn't hold back any longer. This was it. With a surge of desperation, I cupped his face with one hand, the other finding its way to the back of his neck and I kissed him.

It was a moment of pure, unadulterated passion. I was kissing Theo it wasn’t a dream , feeling the heat and intensity of the moment wash over me. My lips on his, our breaths mingling, it was my first kiss, but that fact faded into insignificance. He was the only thing that mattered.

Panic briefly gripped me when he didn't immediately respond to the kiss. I pulled away, searching his eyes for any sign of reciprocation, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Fuck," he muttered, pulling me closer, lifting me effortlessly until my legs were wrapped around his waist. His kiss this time was harder, more urgent, our bodies pressed against the wall as he devoured my lips.

It was a hungry kiss, filled with raw desire and longing. I moaned into his mouth, unable to contain the pleasure that surged through me. As his tongue sought entry, I responded eagerly, my hand finding its way to his shoulder, the other tangling in his hair. It felt intoxicatingly good, every touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me.

He didn't stop, his kisses growing more intense, more mind-blowing with each passing second. I felt myself teetering on the edge of something powerful, something I had never experienced before.

When he finally pulled away, our lips still touching, he whispered, "We shouldn't do that." I leaned in, wanting more, desperate to recapture the fire he had ignited within me. But this time, he stopped me with a gentle hand on my cheek.

"We shouldn't," he repeated, his words laced with a battle between desire and control.

" You ... don’t want this?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, before claiming my lips once more in a kiss that left me breathless and wanting more.

He kept kissing me, then his lips dipped lower, trailing a path of fire down my neck. Each touch ignited a new spark within me, a desperate need for more. But just as quickly, he pulled away, his hand clamping over my mouth the moment a moan escaped my lips.

He released me with a ragged breath, fingers brushing my lips – a touch that felt both accidental and deliberate. "Don't fucking let me do that again," he growled, his expression unreadable.

"Theo..." My voice trembled, a choked whisper lost in the deafening silence.

"Don't," he cut me off, his voice laced with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine.

I ignored him, the dam of my emotions threatening to burst. "No, Theo, I do like you so much! No, I think I love–"

He slammed his hand down on the nearest surface, the sharp crack echoing through the room. "Stop talking! Stop fucking talking and get out!"

My heart plummeted to my stomach. I stared at him, disbelief etching lines on my face. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't the answer I'd envisioned.

"I said, get out!" he roared, his voice raw with something akin to despair.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up. Fear, a primal and cold sensation, gripped me. I couldn't stay there, not with that look in his eyes. Tears blurring my vision, I turned and fled. I ran blindly out of the room, my feet pounding against the wooden floorboards. I didn't stop until I was out of the house, gasping for breath on the front porch steps. My legs felt like jelly, my vision obscured by a torrent of tears.

After four days of crying in my room, watching romcoms, and indulging in ice cream, I had practically shut myself off from the outside world. Ignoring calls and messages, I had no intention of leaving my room anytime soon.

But then, my phone started ringing, and the name that flashed on the screen caught my attention – Blaise Zabini. Why was he calling me? I debated whether to answer or not, but curiosity got the better of me.

"Hello?" I answered tentatively.

"Hello, beautiful lady. What are you doing tonight?" Blaise's smooth voice flowed through the phone, surprising me.

"Did you mistake my number for someone else?" I asked, slightly bewildered.

Blaise chuckled. "No, Y/N, I'm calling you. There's a party tonight, and you should come."

I couldn't believe it. Blaise inviting me to a party? It seemed surreal, especially considering how distant I had been lately. "Is this some kind of dare?" I half-jokingly asked, recalling how Lana and I had once begged to be included in their circle last year.

"No, of course not. Lana is away at camp, and I figured you must be bored. Plus, you're old enough now. So, are you coming?" Blaise explained.

I was shocked but managed to say, "Yes."

"Good, I'll pick you up," he said confidently.

"Um, what should I wear?" I asked, feeling a bit out of my depth.

"Something hot for sure," Blaise replied, causing my mouth to drop open. Surely, there must be more to it than just small talk and an unexpected invitation.

I dragged myself out of bed, feeling a bit more alive than I had in days. The prospect of going out, even to a party, was both daunting and oddly exciting. I made my way to the bathroom, deciding that a hot shower would do wonders for my mood.

The water cascaded down my skin, washing away some of the heaviness that had settled over me. I washed my hair, taking extra care to make it look presentable. After all, Blaise had mentioned something about looking hot, and I wanted to at least make an effort.

Once out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and stood in front of the mirror, contemplating my options. My wardrobe seemed to mock me with its array of dresses, each one a reminder of happier times. But tonight was different. I wanted to feel good, even if just for a few hours.

My eyes settled on a vibrant off-shoulder red dress, short enough to be playful yet elegant. It had been a while since I'd worn something so bold, but tonight felt like the perfect occasion. Slipping into the dress, I couldn't help but admire how it hugged my curves in all the right places.

With my hair styled in loose waves cascading down my shoulders, I turned to my makeup. Opting for a subtle smokey eye and a bold red lip to match the dress, I added a touch of highlighter to give my skin a healthy glow.

Just as I finished applying the last stroke of mascara, my phone rang again. It was Blaise, letting me know that he was waiting outside. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my purse and headed out.

A slow smirk spread across Blaise's face as he took in my entire outfit. "Damn, Y/N," he said, his voice dropping a cool octave. "You look goodness. Tonight, you're not just breaking hearts, you're shattering them."

"Thanks," I managed, trying to project an air of confidence I wasn't entirely sure I possessed.

The drive to the bar was a blur of conversation and upbeat music. Blaise gave me a heads-up that this was a different scene than the usual hangouts Lana and I frequented. No sticky floors or questionable punch here. This place oozed sophistication with a healthy dose of trendy vibes.

The closer we got, the bigger the butterflies became. "Just a heads-up," Blaise said casually, "Theo's gonna be there."

My eyes widened like headlights caught on high beams. "Why are you telling me this?" I blurted, my voice shaky.

Blaise held up his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa there, little firecracker. Easy now. Listen, I know what happened," he said, his tone gentle but firm.

He paused, his gaze meeting mine in the rearview mirror. "You've got two choices tonight," he continued, his voice low and serious. "Option one: Go in there, drown your sorrows in overpriced cocktails, and cry yourself to sleep like you have been for the past week. Option two: You walk in that door, head held high, and have the best damn night of your life. Show him what a colossal mistake he made. But more importantly, have fun. Forget Theo for the night. You deserve it."

My initial suspicion flared. How did Blaise know about Theo? Did Theo tell everyone, maybe even paint some twisted narrative of what happened? The worst-case scenario played in my head: everyone knowing I'd forced myself on him. I pushed those thoughts down, refusing to let them take root.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked, my voice laced with a hint of suspicion.

Blaise raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Oh, the nerve! Here I am, trying to be the ever-so-charming host, and you accuse me of… niceness?" He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Honestly, Y/N, I'm deeply wounded."

I couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. It felt good, a welcome change from the constant ache in my chest. As we pulled into the bar's crowded parking lot, I spotted a familiar face – the Gryffindor girl from school, the one with a permanent case of RBF.

Suddenly, the prospect of a night out filled with new faces and zero Theo drama seemed a whole lot more appealing.

"Alright," I announced, a determined glint in my eyes. "Going inside and having fun sounds way better."

Blaise's smirk widened. "Now you're talking," he said, finally pulling the car to a stop. "Let's do this."

We pushed through the heavy bar doors, the sudden wave of loud music and flashing lights hitting me like a physical blow. My eyes squinted against the assault, struggling to adjust to the dim, pulsing atmosphere. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, spilled alcohol, and something vaguely floral that I couldn't quite identify.

Then I saw it.

Bodies. Everywhere bodies. Couples intertwined on couches, limbs tangled in a way that left little to the imagination. People grinding against each other on the dance floor, clothes barely clinging to their sweaty forms. My mouth fell open in a silent scream.

"Are you kidding me, Blaise?" I shrieked, my voice barely audible over the pounding music. "Did you invite me to an orgy ?"

Blaise chuckled, his earlier cool persona replaced by something a little more… suggestive. "Not quite, sweetheart," he drawled. "But if you're interested, I know a guy…"

Blaise winked, then turned his attention to a group of women across the room. My stomach churned. Had he brought me here just to ditch me?

"Where are you going?" I demanded, grabbing his arm before he could slink away.

He looked back at me, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You wouldn't want to know, sweetheart. Trust me." Before I could argue, he was weaving his way through the crowd, leaving me stranded in a sea of strangers.

Panic clawed at my throat. I was completely out of my element, suffocated by the throbbing music and the overt displays of affection. Trying to navigate the throng of people felt like trying to walk through a mosh pit. Elbows jabbed, drinks sloshed, and muttered curses collided with the music. Every step forward felt like a battle.

Just when I was on the verge of tears, a familiar voice cut through the din.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

I snapped my head towards the source of the sound, relief washing over me like a tidal wave. There, standing a few feet away, was Cedric Diggory, a friendly face from Hogwarts. He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

"Oh, thank God!" I exclaimed, practically throwing myself at him. He caught me with a smile, a steady presence in the swirling chaos.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out, clinging to him like a lifeline. "I came with Blaise, but… well, he kinda ditched me."

Cedric's smile faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Don't worry about him," he said reassuringly. "I can take you home if you want."

The offer was tempting, a safe haven from the overwhelming sensory overload. But then my gaze fell across the crowded room, landing on Theo. He was… well, making out with someone. Not just anyone, but two someones. His hands were everywhere, his lips moving feverishly between two very enthusiastic girls.

The sight of him sent a fresh wave of anger and hurt coursing through me. I wanted to scream, to cry, to set the whole place on fire. But instead, I did something completely unexpected.

"Actually," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, "Do you want to dance?"

A slow smile spread across my face as Cedric offered his hand. Relief momentarily eclipsed the anger simmering beneath the surface. He led me onto the dance floor, his touch light and hesitant on my waist. Compared to Theo's rough possessiveness, it felt… foreign.

"Theodora Nott," I muttered under my breath, the name a bitter curse on my tongue. Every fiber of my being ached to tear my gaze away from Theo.

Cedric's breath tickled my ear as he spoke, but my mind was elsewhere. Then, our eyes met. Theo's. His face contorted in a mixture of surprise and disbelief, like he'd seen a ghost.

Theo seemed momentarily speechless, his jaw clenched tight. Then, in a move that surprised even me, he shoved the two girls aside, their confused faces momentarily forgotten. He barged his way through the crowd, a determined scowl on his face.

"Diggory," he spat, his voice laced with venom.

"Nott," Cedric replied, a flicker of confusion crossing his features.

"Think I can take this from here?" Theo said, his gaze never leaving mine. "Thanks for keeping Y/N company."

Cedric glanced between us, a hesitant frown creasing his brow. Knowing I needed to act fast, I plastered a sickly sweet smile on my face.

"It's alright, Cedric," I chirped, my voice dripping with fake sincerity. "Theo's here now, and you know, practically like a brother to me."

Theo's jaw clenched tight, his anger barely contained. It fueled a fire within me, a perverse satisfaction at seeing him squirm. Cedric, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, simply nodded and melted back into the crowd.

As soon as he was out of sight, I reached out and lightly touched Theo's arm. "Hello, brother," I purred, the word laced with mockery. "Enjoying yourself?"

He swatted my hand away, his voice tight with irritation. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Dancing, drinking, you know ," I replied, my voice light and carefree. "Hopefully getting some… you know, without having to share." I couldn't resist adding a pointed jab at his earlier display of affection.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "That's not the right answer, Y/N."

"Oh, so now you're the authority on what's right and wrong?" I scoffed. "Just get lost and let me enjoy my night."

"Not happening," he growled, stepping closer. For a fleeting moment, I swear his eyes flickered to my lips, sending a tremor of something unexpected through me.

"Not happening," he countered, his eyes flickering towards my lips for a fleeting moment.

A shiver ran down my spine, but I refused to let it show. "So you get to have fun, but I can't? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you were having a blast with your little… (here I paused, searching for the perfect comedic insult) …buffet." I forced a smile, pushing myself away from him in a playful, yet firm, manner.

He didn't get a chance to retort before a gasp escaped my lips. A clumsy dancer, fueled by who-knows-what concoction, careened into me, spilling the entirety of his drink down my dress. The scarlet fabric clung to my body like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination.

Theo let out a frustrated curse under his breath. "Damn it, Y/N, and your damn stubborn red dresses ," he muttered, before grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the crowd. His gaze darted around frantically, before settling on a nearby staircase.

The world spun a little faster as Theo pulled me through the crowd, his grip tight on my arm. We navigated through bodies and flashing lights, finally ending up near a darkened stairway leading upwards. He pushed open a door, revealing a large, beautifully furnished room – a stark contrast to the party raging outside.

"Stay here," he instructed, his voice low and urgent.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed at his bossiness but strangely comforted by his protectiveness.My mind was still reeling from the sudden alcohol shower, my thoughts fuzzy and disconnected.

Theo's presence alone was overwhelming. All the anger, hurt, and confusion I'd been feeling seemed to coalesce into a potent cocktail of emotions. My mind, however, wasn't processing things clearly. The red dress clinging to my body, the sting of Theo's earlier words, the memory of seeing him with those girls – it all swirled together in a chaotic mess.

Ignoring the instruction to stay put, I crossed the room and locked the door with a satisfying click. Grasping the hem of the ruined dress, I ripped it upwards in one swift motion. There, standing before a giant mirror, was me in all my red lace glory – bra and panties matching the ruined dress.

Theo stepped in, a black t-shirt clutched in his hand. His gaze locked with mine, a slow burn spreading across his face. He scanned me from head to toe, his eyes lingering on the shocking red lace bra and matching panties that were now my only attire.

For a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the music fading into a distant hum. The air crackled with a tension that sent a jolt of electricity through me.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" he finally managed, his voice rough with a mix of concern and something else – something deeper.

The question snapped me out of my haze. A defiant chuckle escaped my lips. "Not a single Shot," I replied, my voice surprisingly steady as I walked towards him.

The t-shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten. His eyes were fixed on me, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. I stopped just inches from him, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, his face just inches from mine. The heat of his body radiated against mine, intensifying the buzz in my head.

"We don't have to be in love," I slurred, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. A part of me knew this was insane, But another part just craved his attention, his touch.

All I craved was his attention, his touch.

"I just wanna be… one of your girls tonight," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. A shiver ran down my spine as the reality of my words hit me. Was I really saying this? But then I remembered Theo with those other girls, the way they would whisper about him at school, the way they boasted about their "experiences" with him.

Suddenly, a strange sense of defiance mixed with a simmering desire fueled my next words. "I want what you give them," I confessed, my eyes locked on his. "The kind of thing they brag about to their friends for years."

He reached out, a single finger brushing against my cheek. My breath hitched at the contact.

"Give me tough love don’t hold back," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Push me, choke me. Show me what it's like to be… yours even if it’s just for a night ." My voice dropped even lower. "Anything," I whispered, "just don't pretend you don't want me."

My words hung heavy in the air, the audacity of them making my cheeks burn. But before I could even think about backtracking, Theo surged forward, scooping me up into his arms. A gasp escaped my lips as he pulled me close, the familiar scent of his cologne washing over me.

He lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pulled me close. My hands instinctively found purchase on his broad shoulders, the heat radiating through his shirt setting my skin alight.

"That's wrong," he rasped, his lips brushing dangerously close to mine.

"It's not," I insisted, the defiance laced with a desperate plea.

He didn't answer. Instead, he kissed me. It was a hard kiss, desperate and hungry, as if he was trying to erase everything that had come between us. My body melted against his, all thoughts fleeing my mind except for the fierce press of his lips against mine.

He carried me across the room, depositing me onto a large table. pulled away after what felt like an eternity, his eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a tremor through me. He pushed a stray strand of hair from my face, his eyes searching mine. "I'd hold onto something, if I were you." he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness that both terrified and excited me.

My fingers brushed against his face, his warm breath ghosting over my lips as he leaned down.

His hand moved down my body, a slow, deliberate caress that sent shivers erupting across my skin. His fingers grazed my thighs, a light touch that somehow managed to ignite a fire within me. My breath hitched, a moan escaping my lips as desire battled with the remnants of reason.

His lips brushed against my ear, his voice a husky whisper against my sensitive skin. "Choose a word," he murmured, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

I nodded numbly, unsure if I would even be able to speak if I needed to.

"Red," I managed to whisper, my voice laced with desire as his lips trailed along my neck, eliciting a soft moan from deep within me.

"Fucking red again," he muttered, his lips pressing against my skin with a hunger that ignited a fire within me. I arched my neck, offering him more access, more of me.

"You use this if it gets too much, understood?" he said, his voice commanding. I nodded eagerly.

He continued to kiss my jaw and neck with an intensity that left me breathless. My hand tangled in his hair, urging him closer. When he bit down on a sensitive spot on my neck, I couldn't contain a scream of pleasure.

His hand cupped my core through my panties, and I instinctively gripped his shoulder, my body responding to his touch. I had never experienced anything like this before, but I couldn't admit that to him.

"Have you done anything like this before?" he asked, his breath hot against my earlobe. I moaned softly as I lied, nodding in response.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rush of sensations.

He parted my legs forcefully and held my jaw in his hand, locking eyes with mine. "You did?" he questioned, a hint of possessiveness in his tone.

I nodded again, unable to speak as desire coursed through me.

"He's dead, whoever he is," he declared, sending a shiver down my spine. His fingers slipped inside my panties, and I gasped at the sudden intimacy, my body responding eagerly to his touch.

"Theo," I managed to gasp out, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Yes, baby?" he responds, his voice deep and husky. The way he says "baby" sends shivers down my spine. It feels too good, too right, felt like a sweet caress to my soul.

"You can do whatever you want to me," i whispered, my fingers tracing his jawline. "Anything."

He responds by parting my lips with his finger leaning down to take my lower lips into his kiss. It's so soft, so gentle, that I feel like I've been transported to heaven. His tongue enters my mouth at the same time he touches my clit, and I moan.

He rubs my clit in gentle circles, and I hold onto his shoulder, digging my nails into his skin. He pulls away from the kiss, my lips are still on his, and I moan into his mouth. His tongue continues to explore mine as his fingers work their magic.

"Oh Merlin," I cry out, and he smiles against my cheek.

"Not Merlin, baby, but me," he whispered against my cheek, his touch sending me spiraling further into ecstasy. He added a finger inside me, and I cried out, my back arching with pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so tight. You sure you've done this before?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. I've done this before, in my dreams, with him. I bite my lip to keep from moaning too loudly, and he looks displeased with that.

"Keep making those sounds, I love the sound of your voice," he says, and I do it again. He stops kissing me” you did that again and i stop, understood? “ I nodded immediately.

He’s not done yet. He pushed my bra strap down, placing kisses along the exposed skin.

His fingers start to move faster, as he kissed me, swallowing all my moans. He adds another finger, and I scream, my back arching again.

I bite my lips without even noticing and he slowed his movements I hold onto his hand fast, afraid he'll stop.

"Please don't stop, I'll be good, I promise," I beg, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Fuck, say it again," his gaze intense with desire.

"I'll be good, Theo," I repeated, my voice a desperate plea.

He moves his fingers faster in response, hitting a spot inside me that makes me see stars. He keeps hitting it, over and over again, while circling my clit.

"I'm going to--" I try to say, but I can't finish my sentence. Pleasure consumes me, and I scream his name. He plays with my hair, pushing my tears and hair away from my face.

"I know, sweet girl," he murmured, his words pushing me over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm."So sweet, so good."

He watched me with intense desire as I came, his fingers never ceasing their movements. "And so fucking hot," he added as he looked at me while experiencing his own release.

“you look so pretty when you’re cumming for me,” he murmured, placing soft kisses on my neck

I breathed heavily as he pulled his hands from me, bringing his fingers to his mouth and savoring my cum. "You taste so sweet, baby," he murmured, his gaze locked on mine.

He cupped my face, placing soft kisses on my lips, again and again. "So sweet, so angelic,"

With a gentle touch, he lifted me from the table, carrying me softly and placing me on the bed. His face was close to mine, his nose brushing against mine, and he kissed me deeply. I moaned as he opened my bra clips, leaning down to place a soft kiss on my jawline, then my collarbone.

He traced his way down, kissing every inch of my body until he reached my breasts. I closed my eyes as he put a soft kiss on them, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Eyes on me, baby. Don't shut them," he commanded, and I nodded, my breath heavy. I looked at him, my love for him overwhelming.

With each lick and kiss, I moaned louder, the pleasure building with every touch, and I arched my back, my fingers gripping the sheets.

With a final lick, he traced his way down, kissing every inch of my body. He kissed my stomach and looked up at me, his gaze intense.

He parted my legs, the sight of him between them is my idea of heaven. I nodded, and he pulled my panties down.

As he pulled my panties down, I felt a rush of shyness,"You will keep them open," he said, and I nodded again , my breath hitching.

"Good girl," he praised, his lips trailing kisses along my thighs. I couldn't resist running my fingers through his soft hair, pushing it from his face.

"You want rough love, you say?" he stated, using my own words against me.

"Yes," I moaned, my mouth gasping as I felt his mouth on my wet pussy.

"And you keep listening to what those girls say?" he asked.

"Yes, and it hurts," I managed to say.

"So I have to make up for it then, baby, don't you think?" he asked,

He didn't waste time. His tongue explored my folds, and it felt strange but in a good way. He licked and sucked, and I felt like I might explode.

He kept doing it, for what felt like an eternity. He kept my legs open, and my back ached. I cried heavily, it was the best thing I had ever felt. I could feel my body already over the edge.

"Don't cum," he said, and I shook my head. He continued eating me out, so much. I could feel his fingers inside me, and I screamed again.

"Please," I begged, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure he was giving me.

"You cum, and it's over," he warned, his finger entering me gently.

I held onto his shoulder tightly, my body teetering on the edge. "Say the word, and I'll stop," he offered.

But I couldn't bring myself to say it. "No," I managed to whisper, my voice filled with need and desire.

His tongue flicked my clit, and I felt my orgasm building. I screamed his name, and he kept going, pushing me further and further over the edge. I screamed again, and again, and again. I couldn't take it anymore, and I came hard, my body shaking with the force of it.

He looked up at me, his lips glistening with my juices.

I was still trying to catch my breath from what just happened as Theo's words registered in my mind. "You are a virgin," he said, and I shook my head fast, trying to dispel the shock.

"No, no, I'm not. The boys I've been with before weren't experienced," I managed to say, feeling a rush of embarrassment at my slip of words. Why did I say "boys"?

Theo's gaze held fire as he processed my words. "Boys?" he repeated, his voice tinged with something I couldn't quite decipher.

I immediately felt the need to defend myself. "You don't think I'm attractive enough to be with more than one boy in my life?" I asked, a hint of defiance in my tone.

"Quite the opposite," he assured me, but his expression remained serious. "I want to know who dared and did that," he added, his eyes searching mine.

I bit my lip nervously, realizing the implications of what I had unintentionally revealed. Boys were afraid to pursue Lana because of Theo's reputation, but the way he reacted made me wonder if he wasn't threatening the boys for just getting close to lana .

"You can't just control who I can be with, Theo," I said, surprised at my own boldness.

"I think I can," he asserted firmly.

I took a breath, trying to calm the tension that crackled between us. "I won't mind," I said softly, my voice pleading. "I would do anything to please you. I would do anything you ask me to."

"Stop talking like that, y/n," he ordered, his tone strained.

"Okay," I acquiesced, sensing that I had crossed a line.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, clearly struggling with his own emotions.

I reached out and touched his hand that was on my face, trying to ease the tension. I smiled while kissing his hand, then surprised both of us by putting one of his fingers inside my mouth and sucking on it gently.

"You are going to be the death of me," he muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I need you, Theo, all of you, even just for the night, please," I pleaded, desperate for him to understand.

"Don't cry, unless it's from the pleasure I give you," he said, brushing away my tears gently.

I propped myself up on my elbow to get closer to him, craving his touch and his reassurance. He kissed me again, and in that moment, I felt like I could live in this bliss forever.

He reached for a condom, and I tried not to show my nerves as he prepared himself. His size was daunting, and I couldn't help but wonder how it would fit inside me. My head hit the pillow again as he spread my legs, his hardness teasing my entrance.

He entered me slowly, and I cried out as the pain shot through me, tears streaming down my face. "You are a fucking virgin," he exclaimed, his own frustration evident.

"It's not a fucking game, y/n," he continued, his tone softer but still edged with tension.

"I'm sorry, please do something," I pleaded, feeling overwhelmed.

He wiped my tears away, his features softening. "Fuck, baby, don't cry. It will get better, I promise. Just relax," he reassured me, his voice soothing.

"Breathe, it's just me," he added, placing kisses on my forehead and then my cheek.

"I think... I think you can move now, please," I managed to say, trying to regain my composure.

He held my face in his hand while the other supported him as he moved slowly, allowing me to adjust to him. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure and the connection between us.

"You want fast, I can take it," I said, unsure if I was ready but wanting to prove myself to him.

"It's not a competition, y/n. You don't have to prove anything, baby,"

"The girls you've been with, they must have..." I started to say, but he cut me off.

"They didn't matter. You do," he said, surprising both of us with his confession.

He settled into a rhythm that felt perfect, and I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensations. His thrusts ranged from slow and tender to fast and intense, driving me wild with pleasure.

"Talk to me," he urged, and I struggled to form coherent sentences amidst the pleasure.

"It feels... good," I managed to say, my words coming out in fragmented breaths.

"Yeah?" he questioned, and I nodded, unable to articulate just how amazing it felt.

He increased his pace, and I arched my back, meeting his movements eagerly. "What about this?" he asked, his touch sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Do it again," I begged, wanting more of him, more of this intense pleasure.

He obliged, and the pleasure intensified, pushing me closer to the edge of ecstasy. I moaned and cried out his name, lost in the sensations that only he could evoke.

He thrust a few more times, then finally reached his own peak, his body collapsing slightly against mine as we both caught our breaths.

After a moment, he pulled out and disposed of the condom, then lay beside me.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I was afraid to talk afraid to ruin what we just had, My hand hovered in the air, reaching for his face, but Theo stopped me, his grip surprisingly tight on my wrist.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo against the backdrop of my racing thoughts. Please, no. Not the cold shoulder again.

" The- Theo," I whispered, my voice trembling, but he pushed my hand away before I could say more. His sudden change left me feeling lost and vulnerable, like I had done something terribly wrong.

"You… sore?" he finally spoke, his voice strained.

I blinked, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. The Theo who had been making love to me just minutes ago seemed to have vanished. This was the cold, distant Theo I knew all too well.

"A little," I managed to whisper, my voice cracking.

"Then get dressed," he said curtly. "I'm taking you home. Your big night is over." his words cutting through me like knives. I tried to speak, to explain, but he silenced me with a stern command. "Not a word, y/n. Not a fucking word."

He got out of bed and started putting on his clothes, tossing a t-shirt and his jacket in my direction. As he grabbed my phone and things, I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. It was as if everything we had shared meant nothing to him.

As shaky legs carried me to my feet, I pulled on the clothes, tears blurring my vision. A choked sob escaped my lips, and another, and another.

"Congratulations, Y/N," I whispered to myself, my voice raw with emotion. "You're officially one of his girls."

"Congratulations, y/n. You’re officially one of the girls," he remarked, his words cutting deep into my already wounded heart.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Part2

[gleefullypolin]

The hypocrisy on fandom's reaction of "fell too soon" for friends to lovers

I find it very RICH on the fandoms reaction to S3 and the he "fell too soon" for Penelope. I mean honestly it is a bit spit in your face fantastic the way certain parts of the fandom are wretching on themselves to make that point.

"He didn't like her in season 1." I'm sorry, Can't hear you over "I'm to escort Miss Featherington to the floor" in EPISODE 1. That's what a friend does when a bitch spills her drink on a girl you were having a polite conversation with. Or how about hanging out with her laughing and gossiping like silly goofballs on the side of the dance floor, didn't see him doing that with other people either. Because they were FRIENDS.

"There was no build up previously to show there was a level of friendship there where he saw her any differently than a sister." Ok children...lets move to Season 2. We can talk about the race track and how they spoke about his travels which was very comfortable and very much NOT like a sister. They had an ease, like people who, oh I don't know, had been communicating personally all summer long via letters. And then lets go to Edwina's night where he shares with her that her letters allowed him to get in touch more with HIMSELF. something also so very personal he would not just share that with anyone. (I'll get to this in another point)

"He just suddenly likes her after he kisses her." Big ball of monkey shit here. Colin Sensitive Bridgerton was getting to know himself back in Season 2. He told Pen as much when he gave her the "You are Pen" line. And yes we all gasped and grabbed our pearls at the You are not a woman line, but it was not meant as an insult. Colin inserts his foot so many times throughout the seasons, you would think he could run a mile with his head. He simply means that she is such a dear friend to him he could not forswear her from his life. He has put her in a different category all together in his life. He makes this point when talking to her about Cousin Jack. He calls her constant and loyal and makes mention that their relationship has been so natural to him. He also just soooooo easily makes mention to HER MOTHER that he's been talking to her about things that would make other women blush. Like he doesn't even see it himself that she's just a totally different place for him. He didn't have to kiss her to like her. He already did.

"It all just felt too rushed." I could go on about how they had conversations about their purpose or lack there of, in season 2, more than once might I add, conversations that you would not normally have with members of the opposite sex. The fact that he has told her and proved that he would look after her, he has called her special to him. He has had feelings for her for seasons. Don't get started about the longing stares, they have been there since season 1. You have to actually open your eyes and look at them. Yes there was the whole infatuation of the Marina thing. Of course there was. But if you look at his mannerisms during the entire thing, it screams at you the difference.

But dare I say the biggest and most annoying hypocrisy of them all is that this build up of 2 seasons of them growing friendship, talking and learning about each other, developing feelings for each other regardless if they know what they mean... suddenly is rushed. BUT when compared to other seasons where a brand new face appears and we are to believe that in a weeks time our beloved character is now madly, deeply in love with this person and YOU BUY THAT WITH ALL THE SUGAR IT COMES WITH! Burning for you and Bane of my existence and all????

At the end of the day...live in your trope. I sat through those seasons. I cried through their HEA, I was happy for them. You can dislike the characters for other reasons. Dislike how they wrote parts of the season, don't like the plot points but don't make the excuses above that don't add up.

If you don't enjoy my trope, fine. But please, in the nicest possible way, shut the fuck up.

[charcoalhawk]

Common knowledge

Summary: sometimes, Jazz forgets that things that were common knowledge in Amity park may not be all that common elsewhere.

Warnings: Phantom Planet is canon

“This class will be focused on argumentative and persuasive essays. The first two weeks will be developing your argument to-“

Jazz doesn’t mean to zone out, but after a rather frantic festive season she’s sorely behind on sleep. Besides she had read the syllabus front to back multiple times since it had been released the other day.

Jazz doesn’t know quite how to feel about this ‘persuasive writing class’ yet, but it’s required for her degree, so at the very least she can suck it up and keep chugging.

At least her other classes look fun so far, and both Deja and Louis are in Psych 102 with her, so they can compare notes.

So far, one whole semester completed and Jazz is pretty confident she has college down. Yes it was hard being so far from Danny and her parents, and the family otherworldliness of Amity, but Jazz needed this change.

A glance at the clock on the lecture room wall jolts Jazz back into paying attention to what the professor is saying. How had she zoned out for almost fifteen minutes? She definitely needed to get some better sleep tonight. Which unfortunately meant she couldn’t finish reading the Psychology textbook they had all been given yesterday.

“- and now, for the remainder of class we are going to discuss some possible essay topics. Now normally I would ask that we limit it to one topic per student, both to avoid copping and to allow for a wide range of topics. However, given the, ah, unexpected event that happened earlier this year, I am going to allow for multiple people to write about the same overarching topic. I would however ask that we think of some unique sub-categories so we can explore most of this topic.”

Jazz sits there stumped for a second. What could have possibly happened in the last year that multiple people would want to talk about it to this extent? Maybe a new game came out? She’ll have to ask Danny, he’d always kept up to date on that kind of stuff.

Or maybe it’s a new study somewhere? She knows she read something fascinating about brain waves in response to-

“Ghosts aren’t real!” Someone shouts from the far side of the classroom, bringing an abrupt halt to the quiet murmuring that had previously engulfed the classroom.“this all has to be some kind of super secret spy-ops thing that got leaked-“

“-Ghosts are totally real!” Another classmate retorts, “When I was six I saw my grandma’s ghost on the day of her funeral-”

“No way! That would me hundreds of years of research are now-“

“All right! All right.” The room quiets at the Professor’s slightly raised voice. “I know you all know how to behave in a classroom, so let’s all settle down and treat this as a discussion and not a shouting match. Now, Deja, would you like to go first?”

“Yes, thank you Professor. Now as I was saying, it’s chemically impossible for ghosts to exist-“

Oh.

Oh.

Jazz had forgotten that most people hadn’t known ghosts were real.

Danny was going to laugh so hard when she told him about this. If she told him about this.

Maybe this time it could stay because just her and Bearbert.

[elswing]

i hate posting discourse it's pointless and doesn't do anything for me except prolong my annoyance but i'm Tired™ and feel like shouting into the void. apologies to my beautiful feanorian mutuals please look away i love u

i neeeeeeed everyone to stop claiming they like elwing if their characterisation of her is completely made-up biased bullshit that paints her as an immature and disdained ruler (?????) who couldn't balance her responsibilities with the husband she married too young (at 22. practically a child bride honestly) and the children she never wanted (where. where does it say this). she's clearly such a bad mother that she abandoned them at first opportunity (she knew the feanorians were more than capable of killing a pair of twin boys because they literally already did that. that's very much a thing that already happened. to her brothers) and it was her selfish nature that made her soooo eager to flee (she had no reason to think ulmo would save her it was literally a suicide attempt. she wanted to make sure the deaths of her people and presumed deaths of her sons weren't in vain by ensuring they never obtained the silmaril)

like i'm gonna touch your hand as i say this. it's okay if you hate her! just don't pretend that you weren't thriving in the 2016 era of silm fandom where everyone pushed all their male fave's negative traits onto any other woman in a 5 mile radius to grab Poor Little Meow Meow status for war criminal #1 #2 and #3 to then turn around and spout the exact same (factually untrue) sexist rhetoric concealed under seven layers of buzzwords just because it's the year of "unlikable and complicated female characters" like buddy who are we talking about here. have you perhaps considered making an oc?

and i'm NOT saying i want the whole fandom to mimic my exact opinions and thoughts about elwing i realise that one of the best parts of the silm is how divisive it is and how you have so much wiggle room to come to your own interpretations because of how VAGUE the source material is but i'm genuinely convinced everyone's just parroting shit they saw in ao3 fanfics where maglor is secretly lindir and the premise is elrond sneaking him into valinor and elwing yells at him for slaughtering her people. TWICE. and this is framed as a category 5 Woman Moment so elrond disowns her and calls maglor his real dad

(eärendil misses this entire ordeal because he went on a voyage to save the world that one time and no one's let him live it down since because the whole fandom as a collective decided he did this because he's a terrible dad and not because the whole continent was at war and about to be wiped out and maybe he came to the unfortunate but reasonable conclusion that leaving is the best thing he could do for his family if it meant there was a chance his sons could grow up safe in a world that wasn't ruled by Fucking Satan so now his whole Beloved Sacrificial Lion: The Thin Line Between Doomed and Prophesized Hero™ shtick is tossed out in favour of.... *checks notes* Guy Who Forgot To Pay Child Support? oh and they're a lot louder about this because he's a man so no one can call it misogyny that's why no one ever goes the #girlflop #ILoveMyBlorbosNastyAndComplicated route with him and he gets dubbed as that one asshole who just wanted fame and glory even though that goes against the general themes for tolkien's hero characters. and tolkien loved that dude to bits that was his specialist little guy so you can't seriously tell me you think that's what he was trying to portray???????? is that seriously what you think he was trying to portray????????? babe????????????

also there's a BIG difference when it's a character that's only named in one draft and doesn't exist in the rest or gil-galad who has like three and a half possible fathers but ELWING??????? the only possible way you could be coming to these conclusions is if you read the damn book with your eyes closed. FUCK.

[the-smut-analyst]

Making Characters That Make Sense

Walk-through character template & "how to" guide for writing complex, original protagonists.

If you google "character templates for writing", you'll get a lot of very basic examples that read like a grocery list: eye colour, hair colour, skin colour, positive traits, negative traits, etc.

And sure, filling out this kind of template isn't completely useless - but it's also not particularly useful, either. Choosing whether your protagonist has blue eyes or green eyes isn't going to determine whether readers connect with them or not.

Instead, I prefer to use the below template:

There's some fairly left-of-centre categories here, so in this blog post I'll be creating a character from scratch to demonstrate what each section means and how to use the template effectively.

Primary Goal & Raison D'Être

Fantasy Romance is having a bit of a tournament-to-the-death moment right now, with Hunger Games-inspired stories like Fourth Wing, Throne of Glass, The Savior's Champion, and The Serpent and the Wings of Night in high demand - so that's what we're going to work with in today's blog post.

The story premise and primary goal of the protagonist are almost always interconnected. In this case, the story premise is a tournament to the death - and the character's main goal is to win that tournament, obviously.

But where there's room for some originality is in the raison d'être. This loosely translates to "reason for being" or "purpose". It's the why of it.

For example: what motivated this character to risk their life by entering such a tournament in the first place?

It is sometimes helpful to look at similar stories when thinking about this category. Not so you can copy their protagonist's motivations - but so you can do something different.

The whole selfless-self-sacrifice thing, for example - that's done. At least in relation to this particular sub-genre. We can do better for our hypothetical Maera Mystfang character.

Actually, let's really turn the trope on its head and make her raison d'être incredibly self-centred.

Already, this is character is shaping up to be something a little bit different within the niche of tournaments to the death. Which goes to show how putting a little bit of thought can go a long way, even with something as simple as identifying your character's initial purpose.

Primary Obstacle

Every protagonist needs a goal - and every goal needs an obstacle. This is what gives the story some tension and keeps readers turning the page.

An obvious choice of obstacle for this hypothetical character, since we're dealing with a fantasy romance, would be that Maera starts to develop feelings for one of her fellow competitors.

This concept has definitely been done, but that's okay. Not every section of this list has to break the mould. Tropes exist for a reason and it is totally okay to lean into them sometimes.

However, just for funsies, I'm going to try and put a slightly different spin on this one too.

Instead of the obvious "I love one of the people I'm meant to kill", let's make Maera's (previously dormant) conscience be the problem. Her reasons for entering the tournament may have been self-motivated, but as she gets to know her fellow competitors - admires some of them, even - she starts to second guess those reasons.

Core Traits

A lot of character templates will divide personality traits into positives and negatives - but I don't think this is particularly helpful. It is far too one dimensional - not to mention unrealistic. The key components of someone's personality aren't usually so black and white.

In fact, most core traits are both good and bad at the same time - it just depends on the context.

Instead of being wholly positive or negative, try to think of three core character traits that can serve as two sides of the same coin, with both positive and negative implications to each.

For Maera, I've given her these core traits:

Self-reliant;

Rebellious; and

Good-humoured.

Her self-reliance means that she is incredibly capable - but it's also the cause of her selfishness. She's always had to look after herself, so she expects others to do the same.

Her rebellious attitude means she isn't willing to accept the status quo. But at times she is also a rebel without a cause, causing trouble just for the fun of it.

Her good sense of humour means she is fun to be around, but she also tends to not take things as seriously as she should.

Thinking of core traits in this multi-faceted way not only adds realistic complexity, but it also sets you up well for showcasing character development and growth throughout the story.

Fatal Flaw & Character Arc / Growth

You've probably read negative reviews that throw around terms like "Mary Sue" or "Gary Stu". People tend to be over-zealous with these terms, especially for Mary Sue, but the gist of it is that the character in question is "too perfect".

They're the chosen one, they're good at everything, all the boys like them, etc.

Some characters can get away with this just fine. Look at Aragorn. He's the ultimate Gary Stu but I still swoon every time he opens those damn doors. You know the scene I'm talking about.

Ooft.

But for the most part, you want to incorporate a fatal flaw into your protagonists - because this is what gives them room to grow.

And, no. "I was born to be King but I don't wanna" does not count as a fatal flaw.

Instead, think bigger. Think worse. Think about where your character starts versus where you want them to end up. Think about how you want the events of the narrative to change their world view - or even their initial goal.

For Maera, her fatal flaw is pretty obvious, given her initial motivations for entering the tournament. Similarly, her growth/arc is linked to her primary obstacle, which is developing a conscious.

Her journey throughout this hypothetical story might be learning to appreciate how her past shaped her, while also acknowledging that there are things she can do to ensure others don't have to go through what she did. By being shown acts of kindness, she learns to appreciate their value.

First Impression

Now that we've covered all the "big picture" stuff, let's get into some of the smaller details that give your character some texture.

The first impression category is a hypothetical exercise where you image how your character might appear to a room full of strangers. In dual, multi, or omniscient POVs, you might even get the opportunity to include this impression somewhere in the story.

But even for first-person narratives, it is still worth thinking about, because it will help to inform how other characters interact and respond to your protagonist (at least at first).

For Maera, I've written this first impression as: a fun person to have a few drinks with - so long as you keep a close eye on your wallet.

From this description, we can guess that Maera probably likes to have a good time, but also comes across as untrustworthy. Whether that impression is deserved or not is up to you, as the author, to decide.

There's also a lot of deeper directions you can take this first impression category, too. Like if most people react to Maera this way, but one particular character doesn't, then your readers are going to sit up and pay extra attention during that interaction. Especially when that person reacting atypically is the future love interest.

Spirit Animal

Ah, this one is a fun one!

I always encourage my authors to assign a "spirit animal" to their characters - especially when they're doing multi-POV.

There are two main reasons for this:

It will allow you to assign some very distinct adjectives and verbs with that particular character; and

It is an opportunity to flesh out some additional character traits beyond the core traits.

For Maera, I've chosen "spider" because she is solitary by nature, opportunistic, and patient.

But, more than that, I also like the idea of Maera being the kind of person who knows how to watch and wait. While her first impression might be "here for the good times", her joking façade is actually a mask she wears while carefully observing others.

For example:

Her words were laced with venom. She crawled her way across the rooftop. At some point, weaving lies had become more of a past time that a necessity. Her thoughts were a tangled mess. She didn't bother to conceal her predatory gaze. Inch by cautious inch, she crept forward. Her sanity was already hanging by a thread. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was spin a good story - truth be damned.

I've never outright compared Maera to a spider in these examples, nor have I made it blatantly obvious that that's what I'm doing. But by peppering these kinds or words throughout the story, I'll be able to subtly create a very distinct kind of impression for her character.

For comparison's sake, let's assign "cat" to the love interest. Examples of possible words to consider in this instance might be:

He clawed his way through the bushes. "What are you doing?" he hissed. The comment had some bite to it, that was for sure. He slunk away into the darkness. His still, unwavering focus was unnerving. He prowled towards her. In a few quick, agile steps, he'd made it across the parapet. He yawned and stretched out beside her.

Of course, not every single word you use in association with a character needs to be related to their spirit animal. But keeping a certain type of animal in mind - and finding opportunities to throw in some subtle messaging through language choice - can be beneficial on so many levels.

It helps to distinguish your characters from one another through the kind of language you use to describe them - but it's also just really, really fun way to add some bonus texture to your characters. Giving your readers some little easter eggs like this is never a bad thing.

Love Language

If you're unfamiliar with the concept of the five basic love languages, then here's a quick visual overview:

Love languages aren't a consideration that's specific to romance. They're important for friendships and familial relationships too.

Because thinking about what your protagonist values most in love is going to tell you a lot about who they are. Especially when you take the question deeper and think about why this is something they value.

For Maera, I've chosen "Acts of Service" because this ties in quite well to her character arc.

In terms of Maera's why, I could easily go with "because this was how she was shown love as a child" - and this is a good enough option most of the time. However, since her love language is very much tied into growing out of her fatal flaw, then I actually want to do the opposite.

Maera winds up valuing acts of service because this is something she craved - and wasn't given - as a child. She had to do things the hard way instead. Hence why she ends up appreciating the kindness of others so much. Such generosity is new to her - and precious.

Conflict Response

This is potentially one of the most overlooked character components. Conflict and tension is central to story telling, yet there is so little attention given to creating authentic, original responses to conflict.

The way I see it, there are three main considerations in regards to conflict response:

How your character reacts in the moment;

The unhealthy methods they use to deal with the aftermath; and

The healthy methods they use (or discover) to self-sooth.

When faced with conflict, Maera's immediate reaction is to antagonise. She doesn't like to back down and enjoys creating trouble.

However, in the aftermath, the conflict affects her more than she lets on. She stews on it - and her solution to that is to get drunk until she can forget about it completely.

But even though she sometimes forgets it, Maera has a more healthy coping mechanism at her disposal. When she is surrounded by nature - in the forest, by the sea, whatever - it calms her.

In addition to identifying your protagonist's various responses to conflict, it is also helpful to think about why. Again, this is a great opportunity to insert something unique into their character backstory.

With Maera, for example, let's think about why she finds nature so soothing. Perhaps, amidst a very bleak childhood, one of her fondest memories is of picking grapes in a vineyard.

Perhaps the elderly woman who owned the vineyard was very rude and abrupt - but also quite kind to Maera in her own way. Maybe she would sometimes stitch up Maera's clothes or feed Maera a hearty, meaty dinner - even though she didn't have to.

If you're struggling to think of a real, tangible, unique memory such as this - then it's always helpful to go back to the old classic of write what you know. Think of a real life moment or memory - something that's stuck with you, no matter how simple - then adapt it to your character.

To create this vineyard example, I simply drew on my experience of picking strawberries with my Nonna after school.

Mentor / Idol

I could write an entire thesis on mentors. Or, more specifically, the "death of the mentor" trope - both in its literal and metaphorical interpretations.

But, for the sake of brevity, let's save that sh*t for another time and focus on what's important for a basic (yet complex) character template. And that is:

The Formative Mentor (past); and

Transformative Mentor (present).

The formative mentor (or idol) is someone who influenced your character prior to the events of the novel. Sometimes they're a character the reader will meet, or other times, they're long gone before the novel even begins.

The transformative mentor is a much looser term. It doesn't necessarily have to be a traditional mentor character, but rather it is a character who heavily influences or changes your protagonist throughout the events of the novel.

For Maera, I want her earliest idol to be a random female sell-sword who she crossed paths with. Prior to meeting this sell-sword, Maera was living without hope for a future, surviving on scraps and petty crime.

But after seeing an independent and moderately wealthy sell-sword in her local tavern, Maera got a glimpse into the kind of life that might be possible if she learned to fight. With the right kind of skills, she might be able to earn some decent money for a change - and travel the world.

This is an example of how "mentors" don't always have to be a wise wizard who oversees your protagonist's training and education. Young minds are impressionable - and even distant figures can have a lasting impact.

Just look at all the women who cite Legally Blonde as the reason why they were drawn to law. Elle Woods wasn't even real - but for plenty of young girls, she made an impact.

Similarly, your protagonist's "present" mentor or idol doesn't necessarily have to be a wise wizard either. It can simply be someone who motivates them to change their world view or strive to be better.

In romance, it is more than acceptable to have the present mentor coincide with the love interest - especially in standalone enemies-to-lovers. I know this seems counter-intuitive, since the word "mentor" implies a power imbalance, but it makes more sense if you readjust your definition of mentor to be "inspires change".

However, for Maera, I kind of like the idea of pairing her up with a love interest who shares some of her flaws. I vibe with the idea of making him a bit self-interested too, although for different reasons.

So in her example, I've listed the present mentor as a selfless secondary character. The way I would envision this going is Maera and the love interest team up early on - but somewhere along the way a secondary character saves them both. They're both heavily influenced by this character before this character sacrifices themselves. The aftermath of this incident rattles both Maera and her love interest, and serves as the spark for growth.

I hope you found this template - and very long explanation - useful!

[stealingpotatoes]

Invitation to talk about Sayuri and Nymie?

:D CAN OF WORMS: OPENED!! i'll tell u abt how they got found as Jedi

ok so Sayuri is one of the students that doesn't rlly go home bc there isn't much to go back to. Basically her parents were Rebellion pilots (or one was a pilot the other a mechanic. kinda unsure) but were both killed in action against the Empire abt 3-4ABY ish. obvs the Rebellion couldn't look after a 7-8yo while fighting the Empire

so the remainder of the squad manage to get her back to her parents' home village/ where she was born. so having like Everything change all at once leaves her pretty ?? and gives her some serious trusting-her-environment issues. her coolgirl "i dont care" persona is very much a result of this bc she's worried abt getting too comfy in smthn. (which is at odds w the OTHER issue she got from this event which is "deathly afraid of flying" an issue not helped if Master "traffic laws are just guidelines" Skywalker is piloting. but she tries 2 act like shes fine)

this is gonna get kinda long so im gonna smack some unposted art here and then go into a readmore

anyway fast forwarding to when Sayuri's abt 13 (roughly 9aby) she's visiting her parent's old squadron on a New Republic bc they'd all come visit whenever she could and after the Empire's fall they did a lot more pick her up and fly her to a base to ALL see her. and they're like omg Sayuri you came at the PERFECT time bc this rlly amazing pilot war hero who's also some like. mystical whatever is here!! he's on his way to some magic place we heard. maybe u can meet him!! which sayuri meets w her usual whatever bc she's not that gassed abt war heroes.

very worth noting that the squad's probably all seen her move shit with her mind, but theyre like oh you know how it is with teenage girls. the "nobody knows what a jedi is" + "the empire existed for a decent bit of her childhood" thing has kept anyone from being like yeahh sayuri should like. talk to someone abt this.

anyway she goes along when the squad are like c'mon let's see if we can see him. ok the only way i can describe this is you know the spiderverse like... spidey-sense recognition thing? that's basically what happens LOL Luke and Sayuri both have a FORCE USER RECOGNISED?? moment and Luke then makes a beeline for her then realises oh shit tiny teenager not jedi. would you LIKE to be a jedi?? and sayuri who hates her village and is feeling the strongest emotional connection she's felt in forever w this stranger she met 2 seconds ago is like okay fuckin sure yeah. and woo jedi!!

i posted my unposted nymie art yesterday but likkeeee pretend theres some here <3

So Sayuri falls into the "one of the Jedi found them thru the force or by chance" category of students who get found. However Nymie very much falls into the second category, which is "CAN SOMEONE DEAL WITH THIS WEIRD SUPERPOWERED CHILD FOR US????"

So 2 things about Nymie: 1. like i've said before, she's from a very rich high class pantoran family. super stuck up, mostly raised by nannies & tutors, but somehow Nymie just didn't get the stuck-up genes like all her (4!!) siblings who are just obsessed w their social standing etc and is instead just :D all the time. 2. her proficiency ig is the living force esp in the 'good at connecting to animals' way (which I think means I legally need to draw her w Ezra).

so the former often led her to escaping her family's stuffy parties and galas or whatever (usually to whoever's house it is' garden or somewhere she wasnt meant to be) to find something interesting. usually a pet <3 one particular time when she was 9 she was following her Pet Sense but couldnt find anything in the house. so she kinda just reached out more and long story short thats how Nymie managed to call this hugemassive beast (i'd tell u what it was if i knew pantoran animals LOL) out of the nearby countryside to her. massively distressing for everyone, all these rich ppl were like "OH MY GOD I NEARLY DIED" (it didnt attack anyone). very funny exciting time for Nymie who was enjoying this new beastie friend til animal control showed up. saddening. everyone is confused bc HOW did that happen

a dude old (and cool) enough to have seen more than one jedi in their heyday (+ idk uni researcher knows his shit) noticed what happened w it going straight to Nymie and overheard her account and realised what happened and was like hi nymie's parents. i think u need to get into contact w the new republic bc thats a jedi right there (which they take and go oo social climbing. we have a jedi child people will think we're cooler. bc theyre assholes)

and yeah im losing steam now but luke shows up and she joins the academyyay!

[anitalenia]

𝙊𝘽𝙇𝙄𝙑𝙄𝙊𝙐𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 ⋆⭒˚｡⋆‎♡‧₊˚

꒰ঌ definition ໒꒱ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷   𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ below you will find sub genres under this category, as well as some useful pairings for this trope. for educational writing purposes <3

note: several of these can also be used in other tropes as well, just depends on how you write it and interpret it.

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A sees person B as a friend or brother/sister

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A believes they are unworthy of love for whatever reason

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A believes they are too old for love and has given up on trying

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A takes person B’s flirtatiousness / heartfelt actions as them just being a good friend instead of what it actually is

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A can’t believe person B loves them / believes themselves not to be person B’s type

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is deeply involved in their career and has no time for love

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A has a bad history with romance and is overly suspicious of person B and their actions

₊˚⊹.* ♡ culture clash: person A and person B grew up very differently and have very different ideas of what love is and what construes as a romantic gesture

₊˚⊹.* ♡ there is a language barrier so person A literally has no idea what person B feels

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A and person B have been friends forever — only thing is person A is gay/lesbian with a massive crush on person B — they’re besties (can also be used for heterosexual friendships as well)

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A ignores blatant love from person B because person A has their eyes set on someone else

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is a gold digger and chases the wrong men instead of the right one (person B)

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is from a different world / universe and has no idea what love even is / consists of

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is aromantic

₊˚⊹.* ♡ bride is unaware of best man’s/bridesmaids feelings for her until the wedding day or wedding week

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A loved person B their whole life, they grew up and separated until they find each other again and person B realizes they love them while person A has moved on

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is a matchmaker and has introduced person B and person C together — it wasn’t until later person A realizes they love person B but it might be too late to get them back

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A doesn’t know they love person B until their friends say something — bonus if A is always blushy and giggly when person B is around

₊˚⊹.* ♡ LOVE DODECAHEDRON — person A loves person F, person B loves person A, person E loves person C, however person A and person C are married, person E is engaged to Person D, etc. etc. Multiple couples / single persons in one group who all have a crush on somebody else within the group (look it up, online gives a better, more in depth explanation than I can give here)

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A was considered mean, rude, heartless, but is hopelessly in love with person B. person B doesn’t believe A can change

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is overly naive / innocent and doesn’t understand romance / romantic gestures (they can literally be an alien, or someone who was sheltered their whole life, etc.)

₊˚⊹.* ♡ there’s a niche trope of a Clueless Chick Magnet — a guy who is so oblivious to romance and love but always gets attention no matter where he goes

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A will do anything if it meant person B was happy, even if it meant sacrificing their own happiness

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is married and person B has always loved them

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is a celebrity and person B is their fan / loyal follower

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is a celebrity and person B is someone on their team who sees how amazing they are beyond their looks

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is popular and person B is someone “in the shadows” / a loner — in other words person A doesn’t know person B exists

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is the ambitious, terrifying boss of person B, the cowardly assistant who gets person A’s coffee

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is the queen and person B is the Knight who’d do anything for their queen

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is the step parent of person B (obviously person B is not a minor and they are both adults, typically person A is just dating person B’s parent)

₊˚���.* ♡ person A is afraid to commit to anything, much less love

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is a different species from person B and their kind doesn’t do love or has a different idea of what love is (obviously not BEASTILITY YOU NASTY SHITS, JUST AS IN ALIEN, ELF, WEREWOLF, ANY OTHER FANTASY CREATURE)

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is overly flirtatious with everyone, so person B is blind to how special they are and just takes person A’s love as any other Tuesday

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is a womanizer and meets person B, who is completely the opposite of their type yet person A loves them anyway. person B believes person A is just trying to sleep with them and doesn’t believe person A truly “loves” them (maybe not oblivious to love completely but a writers job is to tweak things and make them their own 😭)

₊˚⊹.* ♡ person A is a much lower status than person B and doesn’t believe a person like person B can love them (can be history AU, there’s a lot of ways to spin this one)

[weirdmarioenemies]

Is Birdo the only member of her species?

"Yes!” you confidently proclaim. “You included an image of multiple Birdos right there in the post, silly!”

I know I did! I did it on purpose, because it is relevant to the subject matter! But it does not mean all that much, ultimately. Look. Here are five Luigis.

Luigi is not a species. So allow me to explain why I am reasonably confident in believing that the existence of multiple distinct Birdos has been retconned!

It all started with Wave 4 of the Mario Kart 8 Deluxe Booster Course Pass. When Birdo was finally added to the game, her alts were named strangely! With Yoshi and Shy Guy, we had, for example, Light-blue Yoshi, and Light-blue Shy Guy. Birdo, however, gets Birdo (Light Blue)!

This is how basically all the alts in Tour are named, just like our dear brother Luigi (Lederhosen). So did they lazily just port these alts over from Tour, without bothering to make the formatting consistent with what was already in 8 Deluxe? But wait! Yoshi and Shy Guy are named with their colors first in Tour, just like in 8 Deluxe! Were THOSE ones hastily ported into TOUR? What’s going on here!!!

Well, let’s look at the trends that already exist in these naming conventions!

-A character simply wearing a different outfit than usual has the name format of “Character (Descriptor)”. Example: Luigi (Lederhosen)

-A character who is in a different FORM than usual has the name format of “Form Character”. Example: Penguin Luigi

-A character who is a member of a species that has been seen in multiple colors has the name format of “Color Character”, not counting the default colors. Example: Light-blue Yoshi, Light-blue Shy Guy

One other thing of note is characters like the Koopa Freerunners and the Pit Crew Toads. These fit into both the first and third categories! For example, we have Blue Koopa (Freerunning), who is a Blue Koopa wearing a Freerunning hat, and Light-blue Toad (Pit Crew), who is a Light-blue Toad wearing a pit crew uniform.

With all this established, Birdo’s conventions fit into the first category! I am inclined to believe that, if these were meant to be distinct individuals, they would be named like the Yoshis and Shy Guys, yet they are named as the same individual in different outfits. Maybe she can change her color like a chameleon, and uses it to complement whatever bow she wants to wear at the time!

The real question is why in the world they would retcon Birdo as her own species... but it is not actually that weird, to me. As awesome as it is to have an entire species of glamorous transfem dinosaurs who all share the exact same fashion sense, maybe Nintendo decided that was where they draw the Weirdness Line in Mario’s world. Birdo’s current design is very much a design for a distinct character! It’s like how Donkey Kong Junior was used in contexts where many of him appeared for a while, until he himself was removed from memory. And don’t get me started on Toadsworth! They can and will alter anything from character intricacies to the existences of entire characters, is what I am saying here.

Also, as a little Grammar Tidbit, it is entirely intentional that “Birdo (Light Blue)” and “Light-blue Yoshi” coexist, and it is not inconsistent! “Light-blue” is a compound adjective, and as a result is hyphenated if it is written before the article it describes. I have learned this purely thanks to the funny dinosaur, and now so have you!

So do you agree with my findings? How does the concept of Birdo being the only one of her kind make you feel? And how did it get this way? Maybe she just invited herself out of the dream world and established herself! Maybe she is a mutant Yoshi, not in the realistic genetics way, but the cartoon toxic waste way. Maybe she just hatched from an egg that was there one day. Whatever the case! I think she is really great.

[leillaaaa]

Rambling About Hanakou <3

────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────

Hanakou has been a long-standing ship, cementing itself in the earliest chapters of TBHK - as far back as the Young Exorcist arc. At the time, Kou was mostly used as a gag character. He was a silly, bumbling exorcist, no good at his job, even though he had at first been established as a threat. (Although, he hadn't turned out to be more than a minor inconvenience.)

Though, when Kou had his moments ... they meant something. He was the tails of the coin, the yin to Hanako's yang. Alive, a slayer of the supernatural, weak despite his greatest effort. His brother's approval meant everything to him. And being rid of Hanako - it would get him that.

But Kou had never killed before.

That's not what Teru called it, at the very least. But in Kou's eyes, Hanako was a boy, barely younger than him. Mysterious, annoying, powerful. He couldn't help but feel that getting rid of him was wrong. But he had to. Hanako even said so himself.

Before Mitsuba had been introduced, Nene and Hanako were the most important characters to Kou. (Excluding Teru, but Teru was barely a character at that point.) Nene, the cute upperclassmen that he admired, and felt he must protect. Hanako ... Hanako confused him.

He seemed so straightforward, blunt, but roundabout and secretive and a mystery at the same time. The boy liked to bother him, skim through dirty magazines, and flirt with Yashiro. But he seemed sweet, too. Hanako liked donuts. He got flustered talking about things he actually liked. It was difficult to tell when he was joking or being serious at times.

The two of them also became sort of buddy-buddy - smushed into the same category by Nene, bonding over their care for her. They often found themselevs working together, and therefore, Hanako and Kou got closer. Being in such proximity all the time, who wouldn't?

Kou could claim all he wanted that he was doing this just to monitor Hanako, but he really had begun to enjoy his company. Hanako is a bit more difficult to understand, always the ever mysterious character, despite his open, blunt persona.

The main draw of Hanakou is that sort of dependancy on each other. Kou needs Hanako's strength. He's weak. He can't help against supernaturals well enough to matter. Hanako needs to talk to someone. To pretend things are like normal and he's a boy with friends and homework and teachers he hates for once.

There's also the exorcism of Hanako hanging over their heads. Kou needs to get rid of him one day. Basically, kill him. Hanako trusts Kou to take his life. His very being and existence.

The difference between Yugi Amane and Hanako. Hanako is Kou's friend. Amane is a murderer. Amane killed his brother. Amane didn't have friends. He didn't hang out with anyone. He didn't understand people. He's lost to time.

Hanako wasn't popular when he was alive. He was always overshadowed by his healthy, friendly brother. Weak, cold, that's what he was. Someone who pushed people away, who could only dream of a future where he mattered.

Maybe Hanako sees that in Kou. The desire to be loved. To be selfish enough to allow someone to love him. Just to let someone care about him. But Hanako finds himself personally disgusting. He's never liked himself, not from the beginning.

Kou and Hanako both struggle with a sort of self loathing, a deep, si ming feeling of inferiority.

Hanako had been sick, before. Weak and useless and pitiful, most of all. And he hated it. Feeling so helpless and like nothing and like he was just something to be sorry for. I'd expect that even though he healed, the remnants of those feelings probably stayed with him throughout his life. Maybe he's even come to loathe that name - Yugi Amane.

Kou, on the other hand, feels helpless as well. He's forced to rely on others to protect those he loves. No matter how hard he tries, he can't wield his clan's staff. He's unfit for his family's duty. Kou spends. most of his time taking care of others, and this had caused him to feel he needs to. He needs to help other people.

The arrival of Mitsuba caused Hanakou to mostly fall off the radar, then, to be doomed to the status of rarepair.

As an enjoyer of Mitsukou and Hanakou, I still believe Hanako and Kou can have their moments of preparation for exorcising Hanako, rebuiidling their trust, etc. Without Mitsukou being ruined. It's sad to see Hanako and Kou now interact so little and basically never think of each other.

(⸝⸝⸝╸▵╺⸝⸝⸝)

However, I'm interested to see how Hanako and Kou's arcs will tie off, and if they'll ever be as intertwined as before. (Or if Mitsukou scrubs their dynamic completely (╥ᆺ╥；))

If people enjoy this one I'll make an analysis of how I think Hanakou would work out 👍👍👍

[merrycrisis-if]

can i please ask for one fluffy fact about qiu? just one crumb of fluff please i’m begging

HAHAH oooh I am always so terrible at coming up with fluffy facts! Not sure if this is particularly fluffy but (um actually oh dear as I was writing it I realized it's kinda angsty-ish)

Qiu and MC's class had been reading this book for class: The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, in the second year of Junior College. Suddenly Qiu starts breathing funny and when MC glances sideways, they realize Qiu's actually holding back tears.

MC is appalled and amused, and peers over Qiu to see what's gotten them into this state. Qiu hands the book over and MC reads the quote, and the words send a chill down their spine.

...

Fast forward to after the confrontation with Qiu's mother. MC, right after the literature A level exam, like literally as the exam papers are being collected, quietly rips out a page in the book. Later, right outside the exam hall, they pass it to Qiu.

Qiu has kept the page ever since, folded up and tucked into their wallet.

This is the quote.

MC (depending on their personality, and whether they had decided to break up or not) could've meant it as a bit of a last, painful goodbye (just as Archer had meant it in the original novel, speaking to the lover he could never have, as he once again picks his wife and societal acceptance over her), or a bit of a "fuck you", or something more hopeful/optimistic, and sincere.

I want - I want somehow to get away with you into a world where words like that - categories like that - won't exist. Where we shall be simply two human beings who love each other, who are the whole of life to each other; and nothing else on earth will matter.

[djuvlipen]

hey just a question, why did you say the results of the lesbian flag poll were cringe?? is there a problem with the labrys flag that i am not aware of because i learned it existed only some months ago and don't know anything about it or was it about something else like the other options?

I talked about it a few times in the past but basically the association of the black triangle with lesbians is a historical fallacy

There was no State persecution of lesbians in Nazi Germany. German homosexuals were deported on the basis of the §175 of the penal code, which referred exclusively to homosexual males. Some Nazi politicians argued in favour of expanding this article to include lesbians too, but this never happened because the general opinion was that lesbians, as women, could not genuinely be exclusively same sex attracted and could be 'reeducated' by the sexist laws that confined women to the family household. So lesbians weren't sent to any camp on the mere basis of their sexuality. Instead, Nazi lesbophobia looked like that:

closing down lesbian social places, like bars

shutting down lesbian newspapers and cultural magazines

(Weimar Germany had the most vibrant lesbian scene in Europe in the 1920s)

prohibition of lesbian subculture in general

increased social control of lesbians in the public sphere, with lesbians being reported to the authority if engaging in homosexual behaviour, which could lead to jail time (not camp)

In Austria, there were law articles explicitly condemning lesbianism, but lesbians were sent to Austrian jails, not to Nazi camps There is no archival evidence of one single lesbian being sent to a concentration camp (needless to say, there's even less evidence of a lesbian being sent to an extermination camp) for the sole reason of her sexuality. In Ravensbrück, the largest Nazi women-only concentration camp, we found record of only three women whose individual files mentionned their being lesbians. In two of those cases, those women had been deported because they were political opponents, with 'lesbian' an aggraviating factor. In the other case, the woman was deported as an 'asocial' and therefore made to wear the black triangle signifying 'asocial'

Then, in the late 80s, with the emergence of commemoration politics regarding the Nazi persecution of gay men, lesbian activists started attending commemorative events and that is when the argument that lesbians were made to wear the black triangle started to be told in speeches. Those speeches didn't quote any archival evidence. Personally, I think people got this idea because the memoirs and autobiographies that were published in the postwar era were, for the vast majority, written by former political deportees. In Nazi camps, political prisoners and asocial prisoners had a feud and fought to get to the top of the camp hierarchy. Both sides disparaged the others with lies. In Nazi camps, homosexual relationships were common among all prisoner categories, but political female prisoners weaponized this against asocial prisoners to paint them as 'masculine, dominating, Nazi-loving dykes', and they described them as such in their memoirs

tl;dr: lesbians weren't sent to camps en masse because of their sexuality, lesbians weren't made to wear the black triangle on the sole basis of their sexuality except for one lone recorded case, and the association of lesbians with the black triangle comes from postwar homophobic literature

I gotta say tho, Nazis burnt a lot of archival evidence so maybe there used to be a lot of texts pertaining to groups of lesbians being deported for their sexuality but since that has never been brought up in any witness testimony, that's unlikely

Also, badge identification systems varied from one camp to another (like in some camps, Jews didn't wear a yellow star but a blue and white armband), that's something people seem to forget when they want to argue one badge necessarily meant one thing exclusively. as for Sinti and Roma, the black triangle, the black triangle with a white Z in it, and the brown triangle were used depending on context. At Auschwitz, the people made to wear the black triangles were 'asocials' (people whose behaviour was detrimental for the well-being and development of the race; you could conceptualize it as a form of 'social racism' or racism applied to social classes as the poor were the most impacted by it; petty criminals, prostitutes, alcoholics, homeless people, etc.; they served a time in the camp before being allowed to come back to civil society. this was not the case for the Sinti and Roma who were associated with the 'asocial' because criminality, prostitution, etc, were deemed natural to the Romani race, and who weren't allowed to ever leave the camp because they were destined to be killed)

Books:

on the tensions between asocial and political prisoners

Nikolaus Wachsmann, KL: A History of the Nazi Concentration Camps

on the persecution of lesbians in Nazi Germany and Austria

Regis Schlagdenhauffen, Queer in Europe during the Second World War [yes, I know, it says 'queer', but it's a bad translation. the original title says 'homosexuals']

on political female prisoners associating lesbianism with asocial prisoners to paint them as masculine, dominating and pro-Nazi in their memoirs

Claudia Schoppmann, “This Kind of Love”: Descriptions of Lesbian Behaviour in Nazi Concentration Camps (available here)

[volo-thereforeiam]

"Choice feminism" is bad for women in East Asia? What are you on about? Are you seriously rather subscribe to radical feminism that is so white and fail to account WOC and women from the global south in general? Are you seriously going to subscribe to a transphobic movement? You can't say this kind of feminism isn't transphobic because look at 4B or 6B4T in South Korea and China. The movement explicitly exclude transwomen and has been glorified to death by mostly white women. If anything I say the feminism that includes transwomen is good for East Asia to fix the transphobia problem. I feel sorry for transpeople in East Asia if all the feminists are like you.

I'm just going to elaborate point by point.

"'Choice feminism' is bad for women in East Asia? What are you on about?" On paper, choice feminism sounds great because it empowers women to do whatever they want, as long as it's their choice. In reality, women have been groomed to "choose" things that primarily benefit men. People don't make choices in a vacuum; we're influenced by our environment. When strict gender roles and expectations for women still exist aggressively in East Asia, the path of least resistance is to conform to those values. East Asian women "choose" to be housewives and follow exhaustive beauty regimes because society is kinder to them when they do. Or they think these choices are good for them due to moral grooming. Let me ask you: if a conservative, religious, sheltered, and uneducated woman chooses to marry a man 20 years older and have 5+ babies, how much of that is truly her choice? What women need is not empowerment, but agency.

"Are you seriously rather subscribe to radical feminism that is so white and fail to account WOC and women from the global south in general?" That's an interesting perspective, anon! I'd love to hear more about why you consider radical feminism to be "white" someday. Personally, I think liberal feminism (or 3rd wave feminism/choice feminism, I use these terms interchangeably) is the movement that fails to account for women from the global south. While it's true that liberal feminism is quite inclusive, it is still mostly US/Europe-centric (and for simplicity, I include Canada and Australia in the same category). This means that when it accounts for WOC, it's primarily considering WOC who live in those regions. It is known as "Western feminism" for a reason. Radical feminism, on the other hand, doesn't need to work as hard to include WOC from the global south because those women already tend to gravitate towards it instead of liberal feminism. The reason is that liberal feminism has shifted its focus from women’s issues to a broader concern with gender. When women outside the US and Europe haven’t even secured basic rights directly tied to their sex, why should they align with a movement that has moved on to different concerns?

"Are you seriously going to subscribe to a transphobic movement? You can't say this kind of feminism isn't transphobic because look at 4B or 6B4T in South Korea and China. The movement explicitly exclude transwomen and has been glorified to death by mostly white women." 4B and 6B4T at the core are meant to serve as direct opposition of South Korea and China's patriarchal state and combat its aggressive pro-natalist policies, which view women’s bodies and reproductive abilities as tools for the state’s future. Other aspects of the movement, such as rejecting rigid beauty standards and degrading depictions of women in otaku culture, are part of women's effort to not make themselves (excuse the wording) look "breedable". I hope it’s clear why transwomen can't be included in this specific movement.

Regarding the movement being glorified mainly by white women, I'm not aware it is the case because my focus isn't on the West like yours is. But even if we accept your claim as true, how does the support from white women automatically make the movement fundamentally "white" (and, by implication, bad in your view)? Roe v. Wade was just overturned, so it's understandable that Western women, especially Americans, would take an interest in the 4B movement. Or maybe they simply empathize with their fellow women. Let me ask you this: for someone so determined to include transwomen in every feminist movement, why do you consider white women less of women?

"If anything I say the feminism that includes transwomen is good for East Asia to fix the transphobia problem. I feel sorry for transpeople in East Asia if all the feminists are like you." Or we could have separate movements that collaborate when necessary but don't have to be synonymous. Why does feminism need to stretch itself thin to cover every issue? Isn't that one of the factors Roe v. Wade was overturned despite majority in the US disapproved supreme court decision? Feminism in the West has been defanged so much by consumerism, sex empowerment and gender issues. I also believe having a movement specifically for trans people allows for a focus on their unique issues, making it more effective.

You don't need to be sorry for transpeople here because what I'm fighting for can ultimately benefit them too. You policing women's advocacy movement, however, does not benefit anyone.

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

At the risk of talking about things I don't know much about or don't understand yet because I haven't been keeping up with the manga:

It's not surprising to find there's a whole horrifying backstory to AFO and Youvhi origins. Horikoshi has consistently given logical explanations about why the heroes and villains are the way they are: who hurt them when they were just kids, if they have a legacy to carry or shoulder the sins of their parents/families, if it was something to do with the economics or discrimination, etc.

Characters in bnha don't exist in an empty world. The environments conditions them to change and act and they push their context to change too. It's more... realistic, the consequences of their actions feed the world around them and it establishes the background for other characters.

It doesn't mean the situation is the same for every character that shares a "hero" or "villain" title. For example, you can't compare Toga's experience to AFO when considering a sort of redemption. First because their stories are very different: the world AFO grew up in is not the same as the world Toga grew up in, their family experiences are not the same, even things like Toga being a girl or almost graduating from middle school matter. They were both perceived as monsters, but AFO's reality is way more cynical.

There's the age factor, too. Toga has committed many crimes, but at the end of the day she's still a teenager. Ochako offered her a way out, a hand to hold and Toga took it. There's a willingness to be different, to rectify, to heal, to move forward from the hurt and see the world in a new light. On the other hand, AFO is old as fuck. He's not a kid, not a teen, not even an adult. AFO's been persistent in choosing to cause harm, he has ignored every and any chances to change, that man he is now is not only a product of his infancy; he made himself, he decided that for himself. It's not logical to push the narrative that he's ignorant or naive and does not know better. He's not dumb.

That's the problem with dumping all characters in the same category and then not being able to say what the differences are. "Villain" is such a broad term. "Antagonist" even more. You cannot simply decide one future and apply them to every one of them, at least not in bnha. You could do that in Naruto, where the theme and the intention of the story allows you to throw them all into the "they were just hurt but deserved a better life" category, but again, not in bnha.

So, AFO's past is made to give depth to both the character and the narrative, it is also a tool meant to communicate the theme of the story, it's a way of explaining the character actions (not justifying them, explaining them).

He's not the good guy. He's not even the villain you should be rooting for. BUT you should feel bad for his childhood. It's a cautionary tale, it's Greek tragedy shaped, it's how the monster came to be, but don't get confused, the monster is still a monster 'cause he decided to be that, no matter the sorrows of his past.

Or at least that's what I think by the information I have gathered around about the new chapters.

[hypaalicious]

Unpopular opinion: YA isn’t meant for adults.

Not saying adults can’t read YA; adults can read whatever tf they want. But it’s a huge mistake of mainstream publishing to allow YA to absolutely crowd out swathes of other subgenres to the point where articles such as this one get written in full seriousness.

Awhile back, there were teens on Tiktok lamenting that they can’t find media for them anymore. There were a bunch of condescending people happily shitting on them saying things like, “Uh, YA exists? These teen-centered TV shows exist?? Why are y’all lying lololol so dumb” instead of actually listening to these kids explain what they mean. Cause wow, it don’t bother y’all that despite all this hyper visible allegedly teen-centered media NONE of it is hitting for them? Y’all don’t stop to ask yourself why that is?

It’s because YA has become a fill-in for mid-range and adult fiction over the years. I can’t tell you how many synopses I’ve read that have sounded boss asf but then they make the MC fifteen years old and I’m immediately like

And I wanna be clear, this wouldn’t be a problem if YA hadn’t oversaturated the literary field. On top of that, I do not see real teenhood reflected in these characters. They come off more like they’re written by middle aged adults projecting what they think teens are like through the lens of how they wish their own long-gone teen years went. So yeah, no wonder kids don’t feel connected to the media that’s labeled for them. Too many adult consumers are crowding that space tryna live vicariously through teen media, and since it’s adults that have the money more often than not, publishers cater YA to them rather than teens. That’s not okay, y’all.

Also, there is no reason whatsoever for some of these characters to be teens except to fit into a very narrow category set by publishers who just want a wide market to sell to. Example: when I was looking up comp titles for my manuscript, I came across a fantasy book centering a Black female character at a college discovering her hidden magical powers and a mystery hidden away at the college and was like “oh shit, this sounds dope!”

… then I read a snippet and for WHATEVER REASON, they made the MC sixteen. Sixteen years old, but going to college as an exception.

It was just so obviously done as a way to slate the book under the YA label but narratively it made NO SENSE. Just make your character 18 or older if they gonna be in college! Oh, that’s right, you can’t because YA rendered the New Adult genre obsolete so if you can’t make your characters 14-17 then it’s not likely publishers will work with you. 🫠

Another problem I have with the whole “YA is for adults too!” thing is the fact that this does not serve adult literacy levels. Mind you, they’re already abysmal in the US in particular. But it doesn’t help when the only thing adults are encouraged to consume for fun are books written at a 5th-6th grade reading level. They ain’t reading anything adult anymore, either in prose or depth of content. And why would they when publishers are only making an effort to market YA as the 10-in-one shampoo type option to everyone who ages out of kidlit?

Different categories for different age groups exist for a reason, and the erosion & blending of these categories hurts the literary field a lot. We need to go back to the days where you could find age appropriate media for every stage of your life and actually connect with it.

[antianakin]

@auditect

You seem like you're being genuine about this and asking this in good faith, so I'm going to say this as respectfully as I possibly can: no, she's not.

When thinking about what's canon and what's not, there are 2 things to consider. One is, was it explicitly said or shown in the canon material (in this case, Rebels)? For example, did you hear anyone CALL Ahsoka a Gray Jedi, or discuss Gray Jedi and then have Ahsoka pretty clearly get associated with said concept? Two is, have you ever heard the main creator of a canon material explicitly state somewhere that Ahsoka is intended to be understood as a Gray Jedi by the audience? In this case that would probably be Filoni, but you can probably count the other writers and even Lucas in this category.

The answer to all of those questions is no. At no point has the concept of Gray Jedi ever been brought up in a high canon piece of media in Star Wars (in case high canon is a new term for you, this includes all of the movies, TCW, Rebels, and the Disney+ shows like The Mandalorian, TBOBF, TBB, etc.). Gray Jedi are FANON because they only exist in a piece of extended universe Star Wars media which, in many ways, works as basically official fanfiction. Nobody working on the more "high media" stuff is ever obligated to keep extended universe stories in mind and adhere to their continuity, but the people working on extended universe stories have to adhere to high canon continuity as best they can.

Obviously there are things that have been brought from extended universe into high canon, but Gray Jedi simply aren't one of them. And, in my own opinion, this is because the entire concept makes no sense with the actual worldbuilding of high canon Star Wars. As much as Filoni shits on the Jedi, he does generally seem to understand Lucas's worldbuilding which makes the fanon concept of Gray Jedi literally impossible. Using a little dark side without it having an impact on you isn't possible. That's not how the Force works, as the saying goes.

So no, Ahsoka's not a gray Jedi in Rebels. She's a former Jedi who happens to keep using her training and her lightsabers to help people in the Rebellion. Even in the trailers for the new Ahsoka show, the tagline says "rebel, outcast, JEDI." There's nothing in there about being gray, there's no acknowledgment of Gray Jedi as a thing. Ahsoka is someone who was once a Jedi and will likely end up a Jedi again by the end of her show because that's the journey we've sort-of seen her going on throughout the different things she's been in.

In Rebels, we see Ahsoka actively working with other Jedi (Kanan and Ezra) to continue work that the Jedi Order had started, we see Ahsoka specifically come along on missions that are Jedi specific problems. She says she's not a Jedi, yes, but in her time, being a Jedi meant something very specific, you couldn't just identify as a Jedi if you weren't someone who was adopted into the Order officially. Ahsoka was expelled and then refused to come back, so she's no longer an official member of the Jedi Order and can no longer take on the title of Jedi. And then the Order is destroyed, so all roads for officially rejoining the Order are now closed to her effectively forever. And this leaves her with trying to figure out what being a Jedi means to her in the wake of that destruction, how can she re-identify as a Jedi without an Order to be a part of, does she even have the right to do so when she hadn't been a Jedi when the Order was destroyed? We've seen characters like Kanan and Cal go through similar arcs and both of them became full Jedi by the end of them. There's no real reason Ahsoka won't do the same given that it's the most obvious place for her to go.

Now, none of that means that if you like the fanon concept of Gray Jedi that you can't just headcanon Ahsoka as a Gray Jedi after she leaves the Order. More power to you! But just because it's a headcanon you like doesn't make it canon. Until it's made explicit via dialogue or something similar in high canon, or at the very least said in an interview by one of the creators, it's NOT CANON.