#i love my boy called pedrito so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1heavy-heart · 10 months

Note

Hey can u write something about pedri taking reader to meet his parents and she's really respectful and sweet and successful and treats him well and his parents are suprised bc usually the girls he fools around with arent like that

Hi, thank you for your order, sorry for the delay, hope you like it!

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅, 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗇 - Pedri Gonzalez 👫

pov: Pedri takes you to meet his parents and they are amazed at his unique personality

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Pedri POV

It's been 4 months since me and y/n have been dating, it's still not official because we decided to wait a little longer to officially be boyfriend and girlfriend. A few days ago I made a decision, I wanted to take her to meet my parents and today we are going to my parents' house so that they can meet her. To be honest, I'm anxious, it's been a while since I took a girl for my parents to meet, also because my last experiences were bad and they also told me that I went out with very superficial girls and interested more in my fame than in me.

-Wow Pedri, where your parents live seems like a great place to live. - y/n said marveling at the landscapes of Tegueste.

-It is a very good place, yes, I loved living here when I was a child.

We arrived at my parents' house and as soon as we got out of the car, my parents and my brother Fernando were there to greet us, my nervousness only increased, I really wanted them to like her, because I love her so much.

-Hi mom, hi dad - I say warmly and hug them both

-I missed you mi niño! It took so long to come this time - my mother said.

-A lot of work, mom, you know.. - I said and then I hugged Fer.

-And this must be the beautiful girl you spoke so much about my son? - said my mother.

-yes of course. Mom, Dad, I want you to meet y/n.

-It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Pedri spoke a lot about you and I was anxious to come here.

My parents and Fer finished greeting her, we all went inside and me and y/n took our bags to the room we were going to stay, after packing our things it was almost dinner time and my parents wanted to make a special dinner, we went down and I went to help my dad while y/n said he was going to help my mom in the kitchen.

y/n POV

I went to the kitchen to offer to help Pedri's mother with dinner, after all I liked to help.

-Hi, do you need help?

-Hi dear, please call me Rosy, so I feel younger, and don't worry, everything is under control. - she said and laugh

-It's okay Rosy, but I insist on helping you with something!

-Ok then help me with the salad dear. - she smiled

I helped his mother to prepare the salads, soon after we all went to dinner, the family remembered several things from the boys' childhood and they laughed, telling me the biggest antics of Pedri when I was a child, I laughed and had fun, because it was every funny story that It reminded me of myself as a child.

-I admit that when I was little I also did things like that - I say laughing

-serious? I understand why you and Pedrito get along so well - said Fer

-I think that must be why. - I say agreeing and smile at Pedri.

Right after dinner I help clear the dishes from the table, even though Rosy insists she'll do it herself.

-your food is wonderful, Rosy, thanks for dinner

-thank you y/n, you are so polite, I see that my son chose a good girl and I am very happy about that!

-thanks for the compliment, I confess I was a little nervous to meet you - I say and she looks at me and smiles slightly.

-imagine, dear, why be nervous?

-I really wanted to show you that I really like your son, he is very special.

-I noticed that from the moment you arrived and the way Pedri spoke about you on the phone, it always seemed genuine.

-I am glad to hear that. - I smile at her and she smiles back.

We finished the dishes and I went to bed because I was very tired from the trip.

Pedri POV

y/n went to bed and I stayed a while longer with my parents in the living room, suddenly my mother says:

-Pedrito, I'm simply surprised with your new girlfriend, she's so polite and doesn't have frills like the previous one.

-y/n is different, I told you. - I smile

-She really is, this time you chose a good girl son! - said my father.

-thanks Dad! I figured they would like her, y/n comes from a family like us, she didn't grow up among the elite so she's more humble and kind

-that's good, a sign that she knows how to value achievements. - said my mother

-It's true, because the last girl you brought didn't even value your work, my son - said my father.

-yes, dad, this time I took the big luck! - I say and smile, thinking about the amazing girl that was part of my life now.

#pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #pedri/gavi #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri

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avenging-fandoms · 11 months

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Hey love

Can you write one where it's pedro's birthday and he is working that day ( he hates birthdays) and so the reader suprise her with a home made cake and candles? Just the two of them . Romantic and beautiful ❤

Thank you

yeah ik his birthday was in april but this came in the other day and i love the idea

cheese!!

It was another trip around the sun, a day of celebration. Balloons, cake, singing. A day of celebrating that special person.

Or as Pedro would call it, just another Tuesday.

You tiptoed quietly into the room with the tray of food, the soft clinking noises of the utensils against the plate woke Pedro up slowly.

He rolled his body to the side slowly, rubbing his eyes and yawning as the duvet covered his waist, t-shirt hiked up to his ribs which he pulled down as he sat up.

“Happy birthday Pedrito.” You set the tray on the bed and hug his body to yours, kissing the top of his head and resting your cheek there.

His hand rubbed your back softly, your arms around his neck with his ear against your chest. Pedro slowly started to lay back and you shriek.

“Pedro the food!” You pull away and put the tray on the dresser before you got coffee on your sheets.

“Get back over here.” Pedro spoke in barely a whisper and your heart jumped, biting the inside of bottom lip softly.

“Anything the birthday boy wants.” You laid next to him on his left arm that he secured around your waist. His head laid on your chest again, left hand on your lower back and you wrapped your arms around his neck to play with his hair.

“Thank you for the breakfast. I just..”

“I know I know, you hate your birthday. Even though it’s a day of celebrating you and I love to celebrate you.” You sigh dramatically and he laughs into your shirt. “Speaking of breakfast, it’s getting cold, and I woke up early for this.”

Pedro’s head shot up. “You.. got up early?”

“That’s how much I love celebrating you!” You laugh and kiss him for the first time that day. You kissed him over and over until you were out of breath.

“Thank you.” He whispered and got up, grabbing the tray and bringing it to the bed. You grabbed your mug and Pedro grabbed his, clinking it with yours as he smiled.

Pedro went to work a few hours after breakfast and dessert in bed. You were always sad about how Pedro didn’t like his birthday. You loved celebrating him and you knew a party with all his friends would just be fantastic.

It wasn’t what he wanted, so you didn’t push the idea. Instead, you went to Target to get cake ingredients to make a homemade one, not boxed or bought, and candles. You found yourself wandering the Lego aisle, and smile as you find the Razor Crest set.

You instantly put it in the cart, turning down the other aisle and seeing the Star Wars section. There was a lot of action figures and you found the Grogu Bop-It, pressing his head and smiling.

You head back home and put away the ingredients to make closer to when he got home. You wrap the Lego set in birthday wrapping, setting it on the table. Cheese found the top of the box comfy as he took a nap on the present.

You roll your eyes at your cat and check your phone and Pedro texted saying he'd be home in a few hours. You turned on your music and got to baking with Cheese closely supervising.

You finally finished the cake with a few minutes to spare. You iced it with a whipped frosting and iced ‘Happy birthday Pedro’ on top of it with two candles.

Pedro twisted his key and you lit the candle with Cheese on the counter. He opened the door and you smiled as you started to sing.

“Happy birthday to you..”

Pedro’s eyes crinkle with his closed lip smile as he closes the door and drops his bag and jacket in the process.

“Happy birthday to you..”

His pupils burst and turn into hearts. The corners of his eyes make his eyelids well as you sing softly to him.

“Happy birthday my dear Pedro..”

Pedro’s hands finally get ahold of you and hold your waist, pushing down to your butt. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck, nose against him.

“Happy birthday.. to.. you..”

Your singing turned to talking turned to whispers. Pedro kisses you passionately as your lips move slowly together, hands pushing your shirt up as he smoothed his palms over your skin. His fingers gripped your shirt as he stepped back to find the chair.

You straddle his thighs while combing your fingers through his hair, your lips still moving against his. You pull away for a breath and Pedro falls forward, pressing his face into your chest.

“Make a wish, Pedrito, before the wax gets on the cake!”

Luckily the candles were long and took a minute to drip. Pedro blew out the candles and you clapped. “What’d you wish you, honey?”

Your finger traced his beard heart and he looked up at you with stars in his eyes, kissing your neck. “Everything I’ve dreamed for is right in front of me.”

You smile, standing up and grabbing the gift. “Especially this.”

Pedro’s eyebrows raise. “A present?” He grins and you laugh. He started to rip open the paper and gasped once he saw the box. “No you’re kidding! Oh my god!”

He fully ripped it open and kissed you repeatedly making you giggle. “I saw it at Target and knew I had to get it. So either we can build it together or you can build it when you’re having a tough day.”

Pedro leaned forward and hugged you tightly. “I love you so much. Thank you.”

You kiss his nose and sit on his lap with his hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing the skin on your back while you cut the cake. You cover the cake so your asshole of a cat doesn’t eat any of it and throw up on your bed.

You hand him a piece and get one yourself, cheersing your forks before taking a bit. “My god this is amazing! You get it from the bakery down the street?” Pedro asks as you take another bite.

You swallow a squeal with your cake and look at him, twisting your body. “You like it?”

“Yes honey it’s so fluffy and flavorful. And the frosting!” He took another bite and you cover your mouth. Pedro gave you a weird look. “It’s not infused with weed is it?”

You laugh and drop your fork, straddling his waist. “No, my love. It’s not a special cake, and it’s not from the bakery.” He raised an eyebrow. “I made it.”

“Baby you made this?” You nod and he drops his fork on his plate, holding your arms. “Honey this is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.” You look at him and he tilts his head then snaps it back straight. “Okay, second best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

You blush and laugh, hands on his chest. “My mission to going to Target wasn’t getting the Legos, ‘cause presents are celebrating a birthday, it was the cake ingredients.”

“If you get me a Lego set every year for my birthday I think I’ll be okay celebrating my birthday.” Pedro smiled and you roll your eyes.

“Alright, deal. But for your fif-”

He gasps and holds up his hands. “Don’t you even dare!” Pedro scolds and you lean forward and laugh hysterically in his shoulder with him giggling in your ear. “You’re fresh.” He pinched your hip and you kiss his neck.

“That’s not from a box, that’s all separate ingredients.”

“Yeah, you can tell the difference. You should be a baker, mama. I’m serious, I’ll buy you a store.”

“Honey I don’t do this often. It’s very exhausting and I don’t want to do it until next year’s birthday.” He laughs and kisses your chin. Your fingers comb through curls on the back of his head as you look at him.

“You are everything I wished for every birthday. Pure happiness.” He whispered against your lips and you smile, kissing him passionately as you grasp his hair.

Your hips move against his jeans slightly and he hums. “This is the best part of birthdays.” He mumbles and stands, hands gripping under your thighs as you giggle, kissing his neck as he brings you to bed.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x resder #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal blurbs #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #rpf #real person fiction

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m00nsbaby · 9 months

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Glitter & crimson II.

Marc Spector x F! Reader.

Tags & warnings. + 18, college AU, no mentions of Jake or Steven, cheating, dry humping, suggestive, no use of y/n. (For my Pedrito Pascal / Oscar Isaac girlies I’m so sorry but Joel is indeed based on Joel Miller pre-outbreak lol.)

Part 2 of “Glitter & crimson.” Word count. 2.4k

Summary. The guilt should have been enough to stop Marc. Was it fair what he was doing to you? He had noticed how happy you were with Joel, and despite the many differences in your lifestyles, he had done what was necessary to accommodate with both of you.

It wasn't fair; Joel Miller was worth it, he was aware of that.

But his selfishness had won this battle. After kissing you, he only confirmed that this was the little push he needed to convince himself that he wouldn't rest until you were his and his only.

The subject was never brought up again. As much as it hurt Marc's heart when he realized the kiss didn't mean as much to you as it did to him, he had to silently accept that no words would come from your mouth about it.

That he could handle, but defeat, never.

Even now, as he called your phone repeatedly, knowing you wouldn't answer because you were busy with Joel.

Well, talking to him, because during the week it was difficult for you to see each other spontaneously. "What a shame," Marc thought to himself.

He grabbed both bags of snacks when he confirmed he wouldn't receive a response from you and started the journey back to your apartment. You must have been ready for your impromptu movie afternoon.

As he was about to leave the supermarket, his gaze fixed on the bouquets of flowers displayed near the exit.

“What’s up with that?" you said, frowning as you covered the phone's receiver with your hand for a few seconds. "Wait, Joel, Marc's here."

"It's for you." He put on his best smile as he handed you the bouquet of sunflowers that had cost exactly $23. There went several days of ramen in an attempt to earn points with you.

You always said your standards for guys were so high because of how Marc treated you. Always so chivalrous, affectionate, and caring that no other guy had managed to reach his level. But flowers? That was new.

"Hello, Joel," he said, approaching the phone with that cynical smile of someone who knew things were going just as he wished. The twinkle in your eyes only fed his ego in the way he needed.

"Marc." His charming accent made you smile. Oh, sweet Joel, doing his best to tolerate your best friend. "How are you?"

"Incredible, a bit busy right now. Did she tell you we were having a movie afternoon?" He took the phone from your hands as you grabbed the bouquet of flowers, heading straight to the kitchen with a huge smile.

"Yes, she did." He cleared his throat, trying to decide if he was just teasing him or if he innocently told him about his plans with you as a way to make him feel more secure about it. "Well, I won't interrupt any longer then."

"Oh, you're never an interruption, Miller." If they had been face to face, he would have winked at him to complete his perfect performance. "Enjoy your work."

He didn't let him respond before ending the call.

"He had to hang up, said he had to get back to work," he shrugged as he entered the kitchen, leaving your phone on the counter.

"Thanks for the flowers, Marc. They're beautiful." You cupped his cheek with your hand to kiss the other, leaving a lipstick mark on him.

"It's nothing. I saw them and immediately thought of you." He felt like a puppy that had been patted on the head and told he was a good boy.

"Did you bring the..."

He lifted the bag in his hand, chocolate pretzels and sea salt flavored potato chips.

"I love you."

"I know." He rolled his eyes as he stepped aside to let you pass and leave the kitchen. "Have you chosen the movies for today?"

"The original Star Wars trilogy."

6 hours of duels and space politics? Was there a love stronger and deeper than his for you? Probably not.

"And how are things with Joel?" The silence was driving him crazy. After one and a half movies, Marc had to find a way not to collapse beside you on the couch.

You looked at him, raising an eyebrow. It was a strange question to ask so suddenly, it actually made you scoff.

"With Joel? Incredible." You shrugged as you ate another pretzel. As if his internal suffering wasn't enough, you decided to lick your lips to clean the chocolate off them.

He was on the verge of going to a psychiatric ward.

"Really? You hardly saw him last week."

"You know he has to work. His brother doesn't give him extra time off just because they're family." You brought the rest of your pretzel closer to him, offering it to him.

"Did you ever imagine dating someone who works in construction? It sounds like the most boring job you can imagine."

"It's actually quite interesting. The other day he was telling me about a house..."

You hit his shoulder when you heard him fake snoring, and laughed.

"Don't be silly! Besides, if we get married, he'll be able to fix any flaws in the house, and our kids would have the last name Miller, it sounds nice, don't you think?"

An expression of disgust appeared on his face. Not because Marc wasn't a hopeless romantic deep down inside, but because the idea of you dreaming about marrying someone other than him caused him tormenting nausea.

"I've heard better last names." He gave your thigh a squeeze as you rested your legs on his.

The only consolation he had was that while Joel could live on illusions and dreams, he was the one who was really with you. He could touch your skin, smell your perfume, and even hold your hand if he wanted. To him, the physical aspect meant so much more than any other nonexistent plan.

"Han and Leia are adorable, don't you think?" You avoided further discussion by resting your cheek on Marc's shoulder.

"Mhm." He leaned his head against yours. "Perfect for each other."

You exhaled heavily as you lazily stretched your arms. Your eyes had been closed for a while as you listened to the nonsense that Marc was watching on his phone.

You finished the marathon after the second movie. You knew your best friend was just about ten minutes away from descending into madness due to all the space discussions, so you chose to have compassion for him.

"Look at this." For the eighth time in about half an hour, you opened one of your eyes to see one of those kitten videos that seemed to enchant him. "It looks like you."

"Really? Like the last 4?" You rolled your eyes with that smile that screams 'I love you, but sometimes you're so dumb.'

Marc had already interrupted your attempt at a nap enough times that you ended up stretching. You turned toward him and pushed your body against his to get a closer look at his phone as he continued scrolling through his million kitten videos.

He prayed internally that you wouldn't notice how his heart was racing now that you were in that position. He had always been aware of his feelings for you, but ever since you didn't reject his first advance just a few days ago, his world had been turned upside down.

He had gone from 'I'll take this secret crush to the grave' to 'I'll get rid of any obstacle that might come between her and me' in such a short time that he couldn't even fully grasp how much he loved you.

"Look, another one." Marc also turned his head to let you see the phone better. His gaze fixed on you in the seconds you watched the video.

When it repeated for the third time, you looked at Marc.

"What?"

"What 'what'?" He was staring at you, his huge brown eyes practically glued to you.

"Marc, you're looking at me."

"I'm not looking at you." His eyes were practically fixated on you.

"Marc, you're looking at me."

"I'm not looking at you." He lowered the phone as if to let you know that all his attention was now focused on the fake argument. You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing.

"I can literally see you doing it right now."

"Who says I'm looking at you?" His hand slowly positioned itself on your abdomen, that part where your shirt didn't cover your skin since you lay down.

"No, no, no! Marc Spector, I swear if you..." Before you could threaten him, his fingers started tickling your sides, causing you to squirm clumsily on the bed, laughing.

"I wasn't looking at you!" Marc's laughter, calmer, accompanied you as you fought against his hands, trying to push him away from you.

It was more than clear that it wasn't going to work, not with Marc's stupidly strong arms. In fact, within seconds, he was on top of you, his hips between your legs, and holding your arms against the bed.

Both of you were breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, and eyes sparkling like that extra detail that always betrays the immense love between two people.

"You were looking at me," you whispered, still smiling.

"I'm looking at you now." Your heart stopped at the change in Marc's voice. It sounded exactly like in the dimly lit kitchen during the party.

You swallowed hard.

"Yes?" You teased. Logic was screaming at you to push him away as hard as you could and, if possible, leave that room, but it was like your brain shut down almost immediately. You could only think about the way Marc was watching your lips.

He almost seemed hungry.

"I always do." It was the last thing he said before leaning closer to you. His lips didn't waste time, finding yours and devouring them with wet and desperate kisses.

Guilt flooded your chest within seconds. Because you loved the taste of his lips, their perfect rhythm, and the way his tongue explored your mouth. Your desire wasn't purely physical; mentally, Marc was beginning to unravel you.

"Marc," you whispered against his mouth, almost like a moan. It was your last shred of sanity trying to call his attention.

His cock twitched against his jeans.

“Mhm?” When he adjusted his body to avoid crushing you with his weight, he realized he was at the perfect angle to move against you, finding some relief in the friction between his growing erection and your clothed cunt

You didn't answer, instead, your hands went to his neck as a way of begging him not to stop.

You sucked his tongue between your lips, making him moan against your mouth and he gave you another fake thrust. Maybe this was his chance to show you how good he could make you feel if you agreed to be his once and for all.

"L-Let me keep going, yes, love?" He whispered between gasps making you tremble. He was almost begging you. "Please please. Hurts."

It was a cheap trick and you both knew it but it was enough to convince you. You weren't explicit with your answer, but letting him continue was clear enough.

His lips left yours when they were sore from the bites. Marc slowly began to lower, kissing your chin and then your jawline at a stormy slow pace.

His hips had already taken a stable rhythm in his movements, and although both of you began to feel pain from the rubbing of the fabric and the way it was getting hot from the friction, there were no complaints about it, only moans and groans from you filling the room.

"M-More, please, Marc, more." He was sure that he had died and gone to heaven because there was no way he had you like this, begging him not to stop.

You heard the bed creak from the force of his movements, which were complemented by the clumsy way in which you raised your hips towards him looking for more.

He was hidden in your neck, you were looking at the ceiling that in your eyes began to fill with stars merely from pleasure. This wasn't at all like the nights with your hand or one of your pillows, and it wasn't like Joel either, as painful as it was to admit it.

This had layers on top, and the fact that it was forbidden was probably the one that fueled the passion the most.

He would have loved to see your face when you reached your orgasm but he was too busy pressing your wrists against the bed and sniffing the perfume on your neck for proof that this was real.

When the spasms started and made your legs shake, Marc gave a moan that was going to stay in your memory for the rest of your days, that sound alone would have been enough to make you cum a second time.

Not only was it visible the way his jeans began to form a darker stain from getting wet from his cum, it was perceptible to you, you could feel the moisture from your panties combined with Marc's fluids beginning to seep through the fabric.

In other circumstances, you might have considered using them to masturbate.

He stayed on top of you for a few more minutes, enjoying the way both of your breaths slowed down and were perfectly synchronized. Both remained silent and you decided to run your fingers over his back a couple of times as you had done many times before to relax your best friend.

"I should go change." He whispered after a while, slowly getting back up.

"Your clothes are in the guest room." You spoke just as low before clearing your throat.

Has Marc always looked this good? This image gave you just enough to fantasize about how perfect his after-sex glow would be. His cheeks were still flushed, his lips swollen and pink from your kisses, his messy hair, his eyes sparkling, and there was something so…attractive about the stain on his pants still being so visible.

You swallowed hard and tried to give him your best smile as he followed your directions with his visit to the guest room.

When the adrenaline of the moment was dying, the oppression in your chest returned. How could you be doing this to Joel?

And, a little worse, how was it possible that you were willing to risk your friendship with Marc for a few minutes of pleasure?

Your stomach turned immediately and you felt your eyes fill with tears the moment you picked up your phone. You took advantage of your moments of solitude to send a stupid goodnight message to Joel, hoping that this would calm the guilt that you felt starting to eat away at you.

Marc, meanwhile, couldn't have hidden his smile even if he wanted to. He wanted to jump, to scream, to raise his arms high in triumph now that he had no doubt of your feelings for him.

You both had reached a point of no return.

This is going to be a 6 part series!! <3 Love y’all.

Tags: @kingtwhiddleston

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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Just read chapter three of FEDRA Javi and I have thoughts, Ma’am

“No. I named you after a remedy that I believe works. And I’ll take it, every time.”

—Oooh man’s got game even in the apocalypse. If someone told me that now when there’s no apocalypse, I would kiss them senseless. And if it’s Javi, he wouldn’t even have to say something that beautiful for me to kiss him senseless 🙈

He’s grinning at you in a way a confident man does when he knows what he’s doing.

—He’s living in a goddamn train, hasn’t showered in who knows how many days, doesn’t have clean clothes and has the AUDACITY to be sexy and grin like he knows what he’s doing??? When I see him, it’s on sight. And dang I can’t believe she could stop. I couldn’t say no to this man in any universe. He just has to look in my direction and I’ll be on my knees. She’s stronger than the US marines 🫡.

It’s a bit silly I know, but before FEDRA, I was working in the DEA.

—Oh shit I just realized my favorite workaholic doesn’t have work anymore. Shit. No work, no cigarettes, no whiskey, no pussy (yet). My man’s gonna die out there.

But that person never came along, and then the world ended.

—Oof. Just stepped on my fucking heart

Just hearing the sounds he makes…so full of pain, raw and emotional— there’s no way you can go back to sleep.

— My poor baby 😭😭😭 My poor babies 😭😭. I’ve just had FEDRA Javi and Firefly reader for three chapters but if anything were to happen to them, I’ll kill everyone in this world and myself. Javi holding her with her head on his lap and reader waking him up. And the KISSES. They’re precious to me 💜

“I wasn’t thinking that. You don’t have to remove it if you don’t want to.”

— Man, I’m gonna find whoever did whatever messed up thing to Javi’s beautiful torso and give them hell cause I’ve seen this man shirtless and he’s beautiful. Who did what to my baby boy!? 😭😭😭 Oh and I fucking lost it when he called her Mi perla. What a sweet name and how very Javier to be so soft in the apocalypse. So thanks for doing all that to my heart.

—Just a question— does this Javi have a beard to go with the mustache because he can’t really shave in the apocalypse? And if he does have a beard, does he have the heart shaped patch that Pedrito does?

“Looks like the little firefly is tired of being a hardened criminal.”

—Asshole! I’m gonna punch him in the face, I swear. Too much smugness for someone in the apocalypse

“You can be as loud as you want to.”

— You can scream my name as lou— *gunshot*

I love love looove this fic and I can’t wait to read more of them 💜 Thank you for sharing this with us

I apologize for getting to this so late! I'm extremely happy you're enjoying the series so far 💜💜💜

the rest under the cut xx

We'll be learning more about Javi's backstory soon, at least the things considering his scar, which I'm both scared and excited to write. And I'M glad you liked him calling reader perla, I really like that he does 😭😭

Just a question— does this Javi have a beard to go with the mustache because he can’t really shave in the apocalypse? And if he does have a beard, does he have the heart shaped patch that Pedrito does?

So, this is actually going to be mentioned at the very start of chapter 4 but basically he is growing a beard now, especially since he doesn't have a razor or anything. I like to think he kept the habit of at least keeping it almost clean shaved like in the show, and finding supplies would've been easier when he was still FEDRA and in Kansas City. And sure, let's say he has a patch like pedro why not 🤭

#mail.💌#infections of a different kind ask #tw long post

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sweetandunholy · 7 years

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YA novels are composed by many different aspects and formulas that make them the genre that they are, young protagonists, complex (and often pointless) love subplots or triangles, dystopian type societies… And one component that I very often see and very much throughoutfully despise: First person switching Point of Views.

If you didn’t skip your middle school literature classes, you surely are aware of what a narrator is: The voice who tells the story and the determinant of the point of view. If the narrator is a full participant in the story’s action, the narrative is said to be in the first person. A story told by a narrator who is not a character in the story is a third-person narrative.

But narrators do so much more than just telling your story, as the type of narrator you use can do so much more for you. YA novels tend to focus on the likability of their main characters (often turning their protagonists into Mary Sues, sigh) while doing the least amount of work possible and thus it has become a very common occurrence for these types of authors to choose first person narratives because of several advantages they always wish to exploit: ➜The spoon feeding of your main/secondary character’s ambitions, thoughts and motivations through letting them explore their thoughts.

➜The cheap shot at immersion with your readers by allowing them a generic character. Because of how hard it is for main characters to describe themselves without sounding like they’re roleplaying on Omegle (F, 20, brown hair and green eyes) most authors avoid giving characters a clear description of themselves and more of a blank slate personality that’s described through other characters (“But MC! You love going to the movies with us ! Are you really going to pass on hanging out to help rescue animals instead?”)

An overplayed phenomenon in romance oriented YA is this precise blank slate main character who attracts the handsome, new bad boy in school and he finds himself unnaturally drawn to her. This is nothing but lazy play for uncaring readers— Your reader projects onto the main character and swoons as her love interest is here to sweep her off her feet and thus become too busy fangirling over how sexy the love interest is and how much you root for him. (Bonus points if you thought of any novel that wasn’t Twilight, because I could easy list a few many, many more)

It’s cheap, its lazy and its such an over used YA trope.

➜The bias of first person narrators, as the stories are filtered through their brains and emotions. Thus, making it easier to be able to quickly flag characters as “Good guys” and “Bad guys” without having to spend any time developing them as to us to figure it out by ourselves.

➜The unbelievable ease by which first person narrators are able to dump exposition on you without having to resort to the intelligent pacing and logical cohesion of explaining the world as events unfold and make it properly that third person forces you to do.

➜If the novel is thoughtful or intelligent enough to include some good mysteries or complicated plot twists, a character’s musings are a simply way to spell out what’s going on and move on without allowing the reader to discover it for themselves.

Now at this point, I have only spent some time describing why I think a first person narrator is lazy— Not even mentioning the more obvious disadvantages like self-indulgent novels can become within the narrator’s emotions by overreaction and making everything about themselves, the limiting POV by not being able to create action where the character isn’t present, making perspective and perception on the bigger picture almost impossible, the lack of focus and inability to work on secondary subplots as you’re only focused on one story thread, the unreliability of the narrator because of the bias of its brain (which in cases this can be worked wonderfully into a novel, but this is what I call a literary device for non-lazy authors) and the extra time needed to be spent figuring out the narrators voice without being out of character: Alas, a “creative” mind like Tahereh Mafi’s Juliette using heavily complex and scientific terms in her descriptions. Then again, just like Mafi, many YA authors don’t care for this later point and tend to ignore it all together.

But notice how I mention the “limits” of what a first person narration can do to your novel, and backtrack on the immediate thought that’s plaguing your head: “But Hime ! That has a very easy solution !” And it does ! It’s precisely the object of this essay this fine morning: Multiple Person POVs.

If you haven’t clued in into what they are just yet, allow me to explain. Multiple Person first person POVs is a phenomenon that occurs when you narrate a tale in first person, and then switch up the character narrating most commonly when entering a different chapter i.e. Maria narrating chapter one, and Pancho chapter two and Pedrito chapter three and switch back, back and forth. Surely, this phenomenon solves many of my aforementioned problems like: The limiting view of only one person’s bias now extended to multiple, the new found ability to throw some focus and spotlight into other character arcs and subplots and the convenience to narrate situations that are going on outside the main character’s perspective.

If you are doing this, let me tell you one hard truth: Your novel most likely reads like fanfiction.

Those who have spent their years in Wattpad surely understand what I’m saying. There isn’t anything more distracting than beginning a novel and first thing reading the character’s name on top of your page. It is very, very off putting.

It’s lazy, and when not developed properly, really brings out the amateur in a writer. You might think that many readers of YA don’t mind this, and that is the cold hard truth, but there are many other writers and readers out here that still value writing as an art form and not as a self indulgent check-list of how to get a best seller. Put effort into what you do.

Dual POVs are the most common occurrence of this phenomenon, and usually indicate a clear romance between both parties. This is by far the easiest and the laziest because it avoids having to go through the trouble of really giving each of your main characters a voice: One is a boy, and one is a girl. They do boy girl things until they encounter each other and then think about each other when they are apart. Fun.

Problem arises when the same lazy author I’m describing attempts to add a third or more POVs into the story and everything goes down into a shit show. If you’re not taking the time to give your character voices, then you will most likely turn your lazy cop out into an unpleasant read. Characters will become nothing but names blending into each other you will force your readers to have to constantly remember to tell them apart (A big problem I encountered with The Thousandth Floor but still gets half a pass because the story sort of premised revolving around these five characters- It was just done very, very incorrectly).

Narratives who do this tend to become very convoluted between every minor character and major character that they book switches to. Authors tend to forget the main point they were trying to make and get derailed between the myriads of new character thoughts, and motivations, and glances into their brains that are simply not needed in the story. You’re spending less and less time with the main characters that the reader came in for in the first place. In fact, the biggest pitfall that authors using this system fall with is very simple:

The simple possibility of ending up with readers liking one POV dramatically more than they like the other. Imbalance occurs between POV characters who are given equal amounts of time on the page and the experience becomes tedious and unpleasant.

Most authors who do this switch and jump between characters only to make sure they cover every piece of action away from the main character and I am tired to say this, but it is simply a cheap cop out that doesn’t push the writer to find a creative way to present all the information it wishes to convey through their book.

So enough complaining, what would you do?

Third person is my go to answer. It doesn’t mean my personal stories are all written in third person, but allow me to explain why I would always recommend going for this style.

It forces you to be creative.

Not only that, but you can very well achieve the same advantages from a first person perspective with a third person perspective, along with several other advantages.

Most writers choose to include elements of first-person points of view by mentioning character thoughts and feelings without using ‘he thought’ or ‘she felt’ next to italicized text. This allows for more intimacy whilst maintaining different perspectives and helps break down the distance between the narrator and the characters. In fact, through the third person can still think, feel and experience, but so can other characters.

I believe writing is all about the subtleties, about showing and not telling and third person can work wonders for multiple POVs without even feeling like a multiple POV. Here’s some examples on novels who did it right and novels who did it wrong and why

Novels who did it right:

The Raven Cycle Series by Maggie Stiefvater The Raven Cycle series tells the story of 5 boys looking for sleeping King in the magical, rural Henrietta. Each chapter opens on a third person limited view focused on a different character. Each book discretely changes main character focus by giving one of the 5 characters more screentime than the others. This is barely noticeable, making it a very subtle and pleasant change. Nevertheless of a great plot, the story is also very character heavy and fully immersive. I perfectly know each and every one of these complex and intricate characters, I’m familiar with their voices and characters and switching their focus to each other was pleasant and almost unnoticeable ! … All achieved through the third person.

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

Carry On is a multiple first person POV novel that just did it right. The novel doesn’t take itself too seriously in its plot and its mostly character driven. This story in fact depends on it constantly switching out narrators for us to really understand what was going on in characters heads as that was the important part of the novel, not what was going on outside of them and in the plot. As the plot was their feelings, their emotions, their thoughts… A really amazing read that almost didn’t bother me with the constant narrator switch (as I really couldn’t bring myself to care for the bits with the Mage, Nico or Ebb, all minor characters that resulted distracting to me).

Novels who did it wrong:

Pure by Julianna Baggott

Is also an ever jumping first person multiple POV novel that constantly distracts itself by distancing itself from the main two characters and showing distracting, minor characters POV.

It also suffers from another of the aforementioned problems where for a good 100 pages of the book, one of the main characters is completely insufferable and his chapters result bland and heavier to get through.

The Thousandth Floor by Katherine McGee

Because this book is all about a web of character driven drama, the first person multiple pov approach to it should be making sense. But it is the lazy and effortless way its written that makes this bad, for the characters lack voices of their own or any sort of distinguishing features other than their names. It makes the reading tedious and just hard and complicated to keep up with who is who. It’s like having homework on a Friday.

Carve the Mark by Veronica Roth

The book is completely incoherent— It is a duality that begins as a third person POV when following Akos, but turns into a into a first person POV when following Cyra, the second main character. It is distracting, frustrating and beats any sort of advantage from using third person or first person as a narrator.

Akos is a blank slate and to make it even worse, his story is told through third person as if we weren’t emotionally disconnected enough as it is because the author refused to convey his feelings and character through action.

So ! What do you think? Are there any other books you’d consider did the third-multiple person POV right? Or more rants about who did it wrong and resulted distracting? I’d love to get more thoughts and examples !

Taking a moment to rant about the laziness I've seen in writing YA narrators & how to fix it.. YA novels are composed by many different aspects and formulas that make them the genre that they are, young protagonists, complex (and often pointless) love subplots or triangles, dystopian type societies...

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