#is worried and hopes portrayals are accurate
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azriel x eris | 3,6k words | warnings: none | masterlist
The past few days have flown by faster than expected, leaving Azriel feeling on edge, as if he's sitting on needles – or more accurately , standing on them.
It's only been a week since he last saw Eris, and his family still has no idea about their clandestine meeting. And they will never find out about it. There's a lingering fear that Eris might say something to reveal their secret meeting in the Autumn Court, and everything will blow up and his family will find out.
Eris on the other hand can also never find out Azriel didn't go there under Rhysand's order but entirely of his own volition. What would it look like? And what explanation would Azriel have for it?
Now, he is standing in the throne room of the Hewn City alongside his brothers, anticipating Eris' arrival. Though he wished to remain in the Court of Dreams, he had to come here.
It almost felt like something was pulling him to come here. When he stood in front of the large mirror in the corner of his bedroom, checking his appearance once more before leaving, there was this tug on his ribcage, urging him to move, to come here. It had been a prickling sensation within him, almost like something tickled his soul.
However, the discussion with Rhys about whether Elain would accompany them or not dampened that sensation.
“Shouldn’t Elain stay with Nyx?”
Rhys turned to him, frowning. “Elain wants to join us, Madja stays with Nyx.” End of discussion. “I will fly with Elain, you will carry my mate.”
Was Rhys truly still worried he would make a move on Elain?
Bastard, Azriel thought.
Azriel’s stands tall, shoulders squared and suddenly the tug is back, akin to his heart that all of a sudden beats a little faster within his chest. He can’t make out the source of this reaction, but he guesses it might have to do with Eris' imminent arrival.
Nervousness is a feeling Azriel is not really used to, or at least hasn’t felt in the past years. Now he does feel it and it adds to his confusion about the whole situation with the prince of the Autumn Court.
Trying to calm his senses, Azriel looses a long breath. His eyes trail over the polished ebony walls. He is not paying attention to the conversation Keir and Rhysand are having, a haze forming in his mind which makes forming coherent thoughts kind of difficult.
Through his lashes he looks at the onyx ceiling, the beasts that are carved into it always somehow reminding him of the beast his father is. The beast his stepmother is. The beast that Beron is.
It’s similar to the beasts on thrones atop the dais are fashioned out of, the thrones that Rhys and Feyre occupy.
Azriel lowers his gaze and rolls back his shoulder, feeling a little ache in his neck from yet another sleepless night. When he looks to his side, hoping to ease some of the tension in his neck and shoulders, he realises that he is not the only person that feels nervous, or uncomfortable.
Elain’s discomfort is tangible even in the air, her brows are furrowed, her slim shoulders slightly slouched. He wonders if it has to do with being here and the eerie, gloomy atmosphere of the Hewn City that seems to dim her sunshine. Or has it to do with…Lucien being away?
The Vanserra male hasn’t been here for a while, Azriel thinks. Last time he saw them talking for probably the first time, but this was weeks ago. Since then…he hasn’t come back. Azriel has no idea if he will return. Maybe this year he won’t come here for Solstice.
Azriel lowers his chin, inhaling deeply, the same moment the large, black doors open, creaking as they slowly reveal the male behind them.
For Azriel it feels like time stands still. He can’t breath when his eyes land on Eris strolling in through the large ebony doors, his feet within his luxurious boots casually gliding over polished floor. The Autumn Court heir holds his chin high, everything in his demeanour arrogant, proud, cunning. The perfect portrayal of the Autumn Court prince.
Eris truly is a prince in his own right, he doesn’t need Beron for anything – not for power, not for strength, not for knowledge, not for glory. However, another thought sparks in Azriel’s mind; Eris is not only prince, he is the future High Lord of Autumn. There is nothing but power and strength within his stroll, within his appearance. He walks gracefully, elegantly, and Azriel can’t look away.
His Adam’s apple bobs when awareness dawns on him. Eris is wearing a cobalt jacket, not the same as last year, no, a different one. An embroidery of diamonds of the same colour now adorns either breast of the jacket.
But Azriel can only focus on one thing — Eris is truly wearing a cobalt jacket, one of the same colour as Azriel’s siphons.
The Autumn Court air is breathtaking. Azriel feels his chest warm, a little kernel of an indescribable emotion now exploding and letting heat seep into every cell of his body. Azriel doesn’t like the feeling but at the same time he does. But he can’t feel this way, not for Eris.
Not for a male who is his declared nemesis and he will soon wed a new Lady of the Autumn Court. There is no place for Azriel. He will never be the person on Eris‘ side. Can never be. He will never be the most important person in Eris’ life. And he will never be worthy of the title as consort of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.
So, Azriel can never allow these feelings to take root in his chest. He needs to get rid of them, free himself from his desire, from his covert desire, for the Autumn Court prince.
Eris is most definitely doing much better at ignoring whatever he feels for Azriel. It is as if the anger and pain from their meeting a week ago still sits deep because Eris doesn’t even deign Azriel a look. He formally greets Rhysand and Feyre, and then bows at Cass, Nesta and Elain, and of course Keir. They exchange a few words but none of necessity and Eris only seems half-focused.
“We shall discuss things at a later point,” Rhys says, only for Eris and his inner circle to hear, out of the earshot of Keir.
Eris tips his chin in silent agreement, hands casually folded behind his back as he stands strong and tall, a look of arrogance on his face.
However, his eyes betray him – they are swirling pits of worry, regret, or pain, endless but also empty. Yet, his gaze searches, moving through the crowds of people gathered in the throne room. He looks around, trying not to make it too obvious that he is looking for something. For someone.
And is Elain who can read him, can read his expression and can see the concern within it. She finally says, her voice steady, but a touch sad, “He isn’t here. Lu—your brother, he isn’t here.”
Eris blinks, once, twice and then he folds his arm in front of his body and bows. “Lady Elain, it is my pleasure to finally properly meet you. I should have introduced myself more properly before. Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court.”
Her body remains as stiff as a poker, gaze remained fixed on the Autumn Court heir. Her chest heaves visibly and then with a small smile on her lips, she bows her head. “It is my pleasure, Lord Eris.”
Their eyes meet and now also a soft, and kind smile blooms on Eris‘ face – something hardly anyone has ever seen on him. Slowly, he extends a hand, “Would you like to dance with me, my lady.”
Azriel is furious, nearly bursting out of his own skin; that is not how it was planned. Not at all. Eris was supposed to dance with Nesta and most definitely not Elain.
Azriel wants to step in, end this before it starts, but he remains where he is, shoulder leaning against a black marble pillar that grounds him. His eyes are trained on Eris and in the prince’s expression, he spots a kind of polite patience he has never seen there before. But there is also interest, and a hint of intrigue, etched upon his handsome face.
Eris wants to get to know his brother’s mate, Azriel gathers, that is the reason why he wants to dance with her. He doesn’t do it because of her beauty, nor because he is interested in her (at least no in the way Azriel thought at first). Eris is interested in her, but for a wholly different reason than Azriel thought.
And yet, he can’t shake the feeling of utter envy. But he isn’t jealous of Eris now about to dance with Elain, rather of Elain dancing—
That is bullshit. His fingers curl towards his palms, knuckles turning white, marred skin stretching until it hurts.
“I think…” Elain’s voice is hushed as she speaks and takes a delicate step forward. It feels like the whole throne room holds its breath – will she decline, like she has declined all of Lucien‘s advances, or will she do it for the sake of the alliance between Night and Day?
Or because she wants to meet her mate‘s family, despite not having accepted the bond with Lucien yet.
“I would like to dance with you, Lord Eris.” Her small hand easily slides into Eris‘ extended one and he curtsies, before guiding her onto the dance floor.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Carefully, the Autumn Court heir leads Elain into the middle of the dancefloor and it feels like the whole room holds its breath; Azriel definitely does.
“May I?” Eris asks in a polite voice, his hand hovering near Elain’s waist.
“You may.” She smiles up at him, tipping back her chin. Eris’ gaze meets hers and he has to admit that his brother’s mate is quite a delicate female, soft and lovely, her eyes pure and kind. She is what Lucien deserves, his little brother’s counterpart.
Eris gently rests his warm palm on her waist, his other hand taking hers into his. He always makes sure he treats her gently, not wanting to overstep a line. He can sense her nervousness, it has a very strong scent, and he doesn’t want to make her even more uncomfortable.
She has not fully adapted to the fae life and that is visible very easily, but she is on a good way, Eris thinks.
“Were you surprised when I asked you to dance?” Eris looks down at her, Elain is quite short in front of him. His body is towering over hers, but he can feel that he isn’t the reason for her nervousness, rather the situation of them dancing in front of so many people, of the attention being on them. On her.
“No.” Elain tilts her chin upward, her fawn eyes meeting his amber ones. “You probably have questions. Questions I don’t think I have an answer to.”
Eris seems surprised over this answer. Is he so easy to read or is she just…what is her hidden power?
“What makes you think I have questions?”
A smile graces her lips and she nearly steps onto Eris toes, but he guides her, leads her and avoids it. “You have a curious look on your face, and if you didn’t have questions you could have also asked my sisters to dance.”
“Your sister is mated now,” Eris answers, as they glide over the floor, music and chatter surrounding them. The music of the small orchestra pulses through the air, guiding their every step as they twirl and move over the polished ground.
“So am I.” Her voice betrays her, but Eris has already known anyway.
“You haven’t accepted the bond yet.” Not a question. And observation. Eris would be able to scent the bond, scent his brother. It is completely obvious they haven’t accepted the bond yet.
“No.” Elain averts her gaze as if she is no longer able to look him in the eyes.
“Lucien is a good male.”
“I know,” Elain breathes. “But he is fae and way too good for me. I will never be worthy of him.”
That answer doesn’t surprise Eris, it rather shocks him. How could she ever say something like that. “Lady El—”
“Can we please focus on dancing, Lord Eris.” Her fingertips dig into his shoulder, and there is enough pain in her voice that Eris decides to stay calm. He won’t push her. He has no right to do so. No one has.
And going into detail about it all would be too much for this dance that will end soon anyway – Lucien and Elain should do it at their pace, and Eris has no doubt that one day they will find their way to each other.
The dance continues in silence. Elain‘s feet move rather effortlessly across the floor, every step, turn, and twirl elegant, not as skilled as Nesta, but still graceful thanks to Eris leading them.
When Eris twirls her, her dress flares around her like a dark blue halo. She is a whirlwind of energy, her feet barely touching the floor, her body bending and moving with the music, hands tightly holding onto Eris, who spins her, lifts her and smiles when his eyes meet hers.
“I know we finished this conversation, but I need you to know something.” Eris spins her and then catches her in her arms again. “Don’t allow these thoughts to take root within your mind. You are worthy of my brother, and whoever makes you feel like you don’t, is wrong.”
His gaze lifts, and his eyes, like glowing embers, meet those of hazel, shining like moonlight falling upon a forest. Azriel is looking directly at him, has been watching them –him– the whole time and a smug look appears on the Autumn Court heir‘s face.
He twirls the Elain again, spinning her so often that her feet almost leave the ground, yet her small frame is always safe in his strong hold. She is Lucien’s mate and hence also his to protect, his to keep safe.
“One more thing.” The music is calming, the piece almost coming to an end. Elain gives him a curious look, waiting for him to continue.
“You are my brother‘s mate – no matter if you’ve accepted the bond or not. It makes you my family as well. That is why I wanted to dance with you. I wanted to get to know you, Elain.”
Eris dips his chin. “And no matter what will happen between you and Lucien, you will always have my protection.”
If he weren’t leading them, Elain would have probably stopped moving. Her lips part slightly and her eyes widen. “Thank you.”
The music ends, Eris wants to step back but Elain squeezes his hand, keeping him close. “If it makes me your family, you are also my family.” A long pause follows.
The words seem difficult to find, voicing them even harder, but Elain inhales deeply and finally continues. “Which means if you ever need a place to…stay, to escape to, you will find shelter with me.”
He hasn’t expected that. Out of everything she could have said, he has not expected that and it warms an odd part of his chest that he has thought to be long dead, rotten and wrenched. Tears burn behind his eyes and he starts to blink rapidly. Eris squeezes her hand in return, not able to answer, too baffled by her kind offering. And his throat is too dry.
Elain steps away from him. “It was my pleasure meeting you, Lord Eris.” A small smile is on her lips. Then she turns and walks back toward her sister.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Eris halts right next to Azriel. So close their shoulders brush, and slowly Eris‘ scent seeps into Azriel’s nostrils until it is the only thing the shadowsinger can focus on.
The Autumn Court prince smells like a whisper of smoke, accompanied by the scent of freshly cut wood with musky hues and a subtle hint of earth after rain.
Eris doesn’t quite know why he walked to Azriel, and not back to Keir or the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. But it was almost like something pulled him into this direction, a little tug on his body and he followed, letting himself be guided by it.
Eris' eyes follow Elain as she weaves her way through the crowds of people to her sister and the Illyrian brute who have also just returned from their dance.
“She is beautiful," Eris says, voice nothing more than a whisper of admiration. “A ray of sunshine even within this place of utter darkness.”
He inhales deeply, Azriel’s scent now all he can smell.
"But blue isn’t her colour.”
Azriel has to admit that as well — neither blue nor black are her colours even though he had hoped so not more than a year ago.
"Green is,” Eris continues. “Just like it is Lucien‘s colour." A faint smile graces his handsome face.
Azriel swallows and clears his throat. He doesn’t want to talk about Lucien, nor Elain. “We are not here to talk about Lucien again.”
"No. No, we are not.” Eris rubs his hand over his jaw. “I’m here to apologise.” Eris keeps his voice low so only Azriel can hear him. “For what I said about your father. I had no intention to hurt you, nor to get involved in your personal affairs.”
Eris’s gaze stays trained on the bustling crowd of dancing people, his broad chest heaving with deep inhales while he drinks in Azriel’s scent.
Night-chilled mist and cedar – beguiling.
Yet, Eris doesn’t let it show what the shadowsinger’s scent does to him, how taut his skin grows solely from smelling Azriel.
“Your jaw?” Azriel gives Eris a sidelong look. There is still a faint hint of a bruise on the side of his face, but it has faded mostly. Thank the Cauldron.
“Almost healed.” Eris inhales deeply, closes his eyes and turns to Azriel who slowly parts his lips, his brows creased.
“I‘m still sorry for it.”
“I deserved it.” There is a cold in Eris’ voice, that makes Azriel shudder and his stomach coils. He knows that this is what Eris has probably always been telling himself when Beron punishes him. Tortures him.
It makes Azriel want to reach out, take his hand into his own and just hold him. But that wouldn’t work for several reasons – they are in public first and foremost all. And they are enemies, and lastly there is the issue of his hands. Wouldn’t the Autumn Court heir with his polished and immaculate appearance feel disgusted about him? Would he not be grossed out from Azriel touching him?
“No,” Azriel says, his heart heavy with emotion. “No you didn’t. You deserve a lot, but not that.”
A small smirk tugs on Eris’ mouth, but it fades as quickly as it appeared. “Rhysand offered me to stay for the night.”
A subtle gasp escapes Azriel’s lips, and a flicker of shock passes over his face.
Eris will stay here. In the Night Court. In the Moonstone Palace. Like back then. When they…kissed.
The shadowsinger feels how his hands turn clammy, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck.
He has thought his unexplainable feelings and the confusion would vanish when he just stays away from the heir for long enough. And Eris staying here, being so close to him once again, will most definitely not help in fighting against the turmoil raging within him.
And it is almost like Rhys has read his mind (which is impossible, Azriel’s mental defences are always up) because his brother scraps a talon against the shield in his mind, asking for entrance.
Azriel lets him in.
“You will escort Eris to the Moonstone Palace. Keep an eye on him.”
Azriel whips his head into the direction of the High Lord, Rhys’ hand intertwined with Feyre’s while he’s sitting in a sprawl atop his throne. Before Azriel can protest, the High Lord starts talking again.
“Ally or not, I don’t feel good about letting him stay there all alone.” Rhysand looks directly into Azriel’s eyes, even across the distance. “I can trust you with fulfilling this job, Az, can’t I?”
“Pulling rank?” A snarl follows Azriel’s question.
A cold chuckle returns from Rhys, his expression smug, arrogant. “If needed, yes.”
Azriel turns away, glaring out at the dancing people. “I’m taking you there.”
Dumbfounded, Eris turns to the male next to him, his auburn brows curled. “You do what?”
“Rhysand offered you to stay here – I‘m taking you there. The Moonstone palace,” Azriel snaps, anger boiling inside of him, mingling with the overwhelming sensation of Eris being so close to him.
Eris only gives him a long look, not saying anything, but Azriel can tell exactly what he is thinking about. Because he is thinking about the same.
Will this evening end with another kiss? Or more?
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Love in Motion
Chapter Five
Synopsis: Lydia gets a wrong number text from Lando Norris.
Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.
Warnings for this chapter: None
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four
Next Chapter: Chapter Six
Masterlist
April 22, 2022
7 pm Italy Time
Lando’s POV
I walk back to my drivers room from the media pen. I grab my phone, hoping to see messages from Lydia. I frown when I see no messages from her. “Why are you frowning? You’re starting P3 in the sprint tomorrow!” Jon asks, walking into the room.
“I was expecting a message from someone by the time qualifying ended, but I’ve got no messages,” I sigh.
“He’s expecting a message from a girl,” Daniel says, entering the room. I sigh and roll my eyes at him extending the word girl.
“Yeah,” I sigh, “We’ve been talking every day, so I’m not sure why I haven’t got any messages besides her good morning message. She’s a big F1 fan, so I assumed I’d get messages about qualifying like I did last time.”
Jon puts a hand on my shoulder, “I’m sure she’s just busy.”
“Yeah, she probably is in class or something,” I nod. Daniel and Jon nod along with me.
Lydia’s POV
3 pm Minnesota Time
I grab my laptop, sitting down on the couch. I turn on the tv, pulling up qualifying for the Imola grand prix. My plan is to look for photography jobs while qualifying is happening. I’m having to watch a replay of qualifying because I have had class all day. I grab my phone so I can text Luke throughout watching it.
Me: I finally am free, so now I can watch qualifying. Stupid school getting in the way of my hobby.
I set my phone down, not expecting a message back because it’s 10 in Italy. My phone vibrates immediately.
Luke: Oh good! I was getting worried after not hearing from you for hours.
Me: Sorry, I had exams in my three classes today, so I wasn’t on my phone.
Luke: All good! Let me know what you think of qualifying!
Me: Don’t worry, you’re going to be getting all my reactions as I watch it.
Luke: Oh good. I loved reading your comments after Australia.
Me: Good, cause I’m not going to stop. You’re the only person I know who likes F1.
Luke: That sucks. Well, at least you have someone now.
Me: Yeah!
I look up at the screen as Alex’s car catches on fire and a red flag is shown.
Me: Holy shit! Alex’s brake is on fire!
Luke: Yeah, that sucks when it happens.
Me: I can’t believe you say that so casually. I would be scared as hell.
Luke: Yeah, but these guys can’t be scared of these sorts of things, otherwise they’d never get in the car.
Me: True.
As I wait for the red flag to finish, I head to the McLaren job website. I’ve been checking different Formula 1 team’s job sites to see if any of them post anything about needing a photographer. I sigh when I don’t see any new postings. I switch over to the Red Bull site next. I see a new job posting and start to get hopeful. I click on it and the words “Red Bull Photographer” stare back at me. I immediately hit apply and start the application.
I look up at the screen when I hear the commentators say something about a yellow flag and Latifi.
Me: Aww, Latifi spun. Williams just isn’t having a good day.
Luke: No, they didn’t.
I turn back to the application, filling everything out. I submit the application with my photo portfolio just as the commentators go “And Sainz in the wall!” My head flings up to see Carlos’ car against the wall.
Me: No!! Carlos hit the wall! Thank goodness he’s okay. I always get so worried about the drivers when they crash.
Luke: That’s so sweet of you. It’s always worrying when drivers crash.
Me: Yeah. I hope you’re staying dry this weekend. Looks miserable out there.
Luke: I’m luckily in the hospitality all weekend.
Me: That’s good. It’s bright and sunny here.
Me: Hopefully it doesn’t rain too much during the races.
Luke: Hopefully, that would be good.
I watch as the cars come out on track for Q3. I groan as Kevin Magnussen crashes and causes another red flag.
Me: How many red flags are there going to be?
Luke: You just see Magnussen crash?
Me: Yeah, luckily it won’t be too long it looks like.
Me: I still have 6 minutes left of Q3 but there’s 25 minutes left in the video. What happens?
Me: Ohhh! Valtteri is off! And it’s another red flag.
Luke: Three red flags. It was an interesting qualifying.
I patiently wait for the red flag to lift. 15 minutes later the flag is lifted. I know I can skip until the flag is done, but I like watching everything I can on the sport. I groan when I see another red flag. I gasp and yell, “No!” It’s Lando who’s caused the red flag.
Me: No! Lando crashed! Hopefully he’s okay! But hey! He’s starting P3 tomorrow!
Luke: He’s okay, happy to start P3 tomorrow.
Me: Oh good! He did great today.
Luke: I should head to bed. It’s midnight here now.
Me: Okay! Have a good night!
Luke: Good night, Lydia.
I turn off the tv and head into the kitchen to make some dinner.
April 23, 2022
9 am
I sit down on the couch as the five lights go out. “Oh no, what happened to you, Zhou?” I ask, seeing his car in the wall. “Ooohhh, contact with Pierre,” I hum, seeing Pierre limp around the track.
Me: Poor Zhou and Pierre.
Me: Zhou should’ve given Pierre more room, but it’s going to go down as a racing incident probably.
Me: The fact that Carlos is fighting against Fernando, who is the driver he idolized as a child, is crazy.
Me: Noooo, Perez passed Lando.
Me: NO! Carlos! How could you do this to your bestie? How could you pass him?
Me: Let’s go! Lando finished P5!
I set my phone down, standing up. I start cleaning my apartment, waiting to see if Luke responds any time soon.
I’ve just finished cleaning the bathroom when I hear my phone vibrate. I grab it, excited to see if it’s Luke. I frown when I see that it’s an email from an unknown sender. Curious, I click it. I almost drop my phone in shock when I see the contents. “RED BULL WANTS AN INTERVIEW WITH ME!” I shriek. I’m shocked that they want an interview and the incredibly fast response time. I immediately respond to the email, wanting to set up a time as soon as possible for an interview. As soon as I get that figured out, I start pacing my apartment. “Oh my god, this is it. This could be you fulfilling your dream, Lydia. Don’t freak out,” I mumble to myself. My phone vibrates, and I dive for it. I grin when I see a message from Luke.
Luke: I’m sure Lando would be grateful for your support if he knew you.
Me: Hi, Luke!
Luke: Hi, Lydia. How has your day been?
Me: It’s going amazing. I have an interview on Monday for a possible photography job.
Luke: That’s amazing! Congrats!
Me: Thanks!
Luke: I’m sure you’ll do great.
Me: Thanks! How’s the weather look in Imola tomorrow? More rain?
Luke: Lots of rain.
Me: Damn, good luck to the drivers then.
Luke: They’ve driven in all kinds of weather, I’m sure they’ll be okay.
Me: I hope so too.
Luke: What’s your plan for the rest of your day?
Me: I’m finishing cleaning my apartment, then doing some homework. Can’t slack off for even a day or I’ll fall behind.
Luke: Damn, I really hope you get some free time soon.
Me: I should, it’s almost the end of school. Just two more weeks.
Luke: Oh, that’s good!
Me: Yep! What’s the plan for your night?
Luke: Well, just resting and preparing for the race and events tomorrow.
Me: Okay! Have fun with that!
Luke: I will!
Lando’s POV
I pick up my phone, grinning when I see messages from Lydia. My disappointment from losing positions in the sprint disappears when I see she’s excited that I finished P5. I dive into a conversation with her, lounging on the bed to relax. We talk for a good hour before I feel myself start to fall asleep. I groan, wanting to spend more time talking to Lydia. I fight sleep for a couple minutes before it starts to take over.
Me: As much as I’d love to continue talking, it’s 9:30 here now and I’m fighting sleep.
Lydia: Okay! Good night Luke!
Me: Good night, Lydia!
April 24, 2022
Lydia’s POV
8 am
“And in Imola, we’re racing,” Will Buxton says. I grin, as Lando takes two places right off the bat. “And Sainz has been hit!” I gasp, seeing Carlos and Daniel in the gravel.
Me: LET’S GO LANDO! TAKING TWO PLACES OFF THE BAT!
Me: Oh no! Not Carlos and Daniel! It must be so hard to see with all that rain.
Me: The drivers need little windshield wipers on their helmets.
Me: It sucks that Carlos is beached.
Me: Oh! Mick had a little trip through the grass too.
Me: I could never be a race strategist. So many variables.
I bite my nails as Charles makes an attempt to pass Lando. “Charles, I swear if you take Lando out,” I say. I pout when Charles passes Lando, “Come on, Lando. You can do this.”
Me: Aww, Mick spun again.
Me: Stroll is worrying me going onto the wet part of the track on slicks.
Me: I don’t want anyone to crash!
Me: No! Charles! He crashed!
Me: Good shot of Carlos though.
Me: BUT THAT MEANS LANDO IS P3! LET’S GOOOO!
Me: YESSS LANDO GOT P3!!!
Me: Awww, his reaction on the radio is so cute.
I laugh as Lando appears on the screen, his hair sticking straight up. After the podium ceremony, I shut off the tv. I grab my laptop, setting up camp on the couch to work on homework and get ready for my interview tomorrow.
Lando’s POV
I step out of the conference room, still stinking of champaign. “All I want right now is a shower and sleep,” Max says, coming up next to me. I nod, making a noise of agreement. We walk back to our drivers rooms together. “See you later, Lando. Congrats again on your race,” Max says, waving bye.
“Thanks, Max. Congrats on your win,” I say, before heading into the room. I race for my phone, grinning when I see a string of messages from Lydia. I quickly read through them before replying.
Me: Lando is super happy with his final position.
Lydia: As he should be! He did amazing!
I almost send a thank you to her, before catching myself. “She doesn’t know she’s talking to you, idiot. Don’t mess it up now,” I mumble.
Me: He did.
Lydia: Any plans to go out and celebrate?
Me: Not tonight, I’ve got an early flight to catch. Celebrations will be later this week.
Lydia: Sounds like fun!
Me: Yeah! Now it’s time to head back to the hotel and getting some sleep.
Lydia: Sounds like a fantastic idea. Sounds like a lot more fun than what I’m doing.
Me: What are you doing?
Lydia: I’m studying for my final in organic chemistry.
Me: That sounds awful.
Lydia: It truly is miserable. But I’m getting through it.
Me: I’ll leave you to it then, I’m headed back to the hotel now and will probably fall asleep as soon as I sit down.
Lydia: Alright! Have a good night and sleep, Luke!
Me: Have a good day and study, Lydia. Good night.
I grab my stuff, heading for the hotel. As soon as I get back, I shower and fall into bed, quickly falling asleep.
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Taglist: @copper-boom @ironmaiden1313 @ophcelia
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 story#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris story#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagines#lando norris x oc
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i am a little embarrassed to talk about this openly so i am doing it anon,,, but holy shit you have no idea how much your fic means to me. last year i was diagnosed with a life-altering illness in my bone marrow, and i've lost so much since then. i used to be muscular, and love my body, and just. augh.
i've lost nearly 60 pounds to the date and all my muscle. some days my bones hurt so bad from the inside out that i feel like how you've written xie lian--pushing through every screaming fiber in my body to take just one more step forward. i can't recover fast enough. some days i feel strong and then get reminded that just vacuuming my floor leaves me a trembling, sweating mess. it's so frustrating.
you don't have to publish this but. being able to read something that feels so? accurate? so,,, i'm not sure how to describe it. i just feel seen, with the added bonus of your portrayal being written so beautifully and featuring my favorite little guys right now. i love it so much and i just wanted you to know that. not to be dramatic but your writing just. feels like home. qwq
Anon, I hope it's okay with you if I do answer this, because damn, I really want to try and give this a worthy response.
I'm so sorry that you've had to go through so much, and I hope that things get easier for you in any ways that they can. I'm not going to say I know what it's like, because everyone's experience with chronic illness, pain, and fatigue is different. I sincerely wish you the best in your recovery and ongoing management of your condition.
I'm so truly grateful that you've been able to find something cathartic in what I'm writing. Most of my fics end up as self-therapy projects, so I try to be realistic and compassionate about the topics at hand in case someone else relates to it. I know one of the big differences between this fic and real life is that Xie Lian is eventually going to make a relatively full recovery, where people with chronic conditions will usually have to manage them for the rest of their lives, so I worry that the ending might feel frustrating or like wishful thinking to some people. Most of us don't get that kind of closure. But I really hope that this story can offer some sense of relief and validation to people who are going through their own recoveries or learning how to manage chronic conditions.
I really had no idea that so many people would find the story so relatable, so I really hope that I can do a decent job of helping people feel acknowledged and that they're not alone. Maybe most importantly, I hope that I can help offer some hope to people going through this sort of thing, because things do tend to gradually become more manageable as they navigate their conditions. There is a grieving process involved with diagnoses of chronic conditions, but it is a process in the end.
I truly believe in the hope that life can still be full and fulfilling even if the illness or injury won't go away. That might sound ominous, but it's important to remember, wherever you're at.
Thank you for telling me what it means to you. I've learned that fics can have a marked impact on people's lives (my first big fic got me a wife, who is the coolest person who's ever lived; writing has helped me manage my own mental health like nothing else possibly could; I've made amazing friends and been able to share mutual support with them) so I take this seriously. I hope this makes sense and doesn't come off as patronizing (I would be the worst kind of liar if I said everything's going to be okay for everyone, and the "you're so strong and brave, I could never handle going through that" stuff makes me wanna scream) and I just. It means everything to me if I've successfully offered some comfort. Thank you.
I hope you have a really good year, anon. 💜
#anonymous#god i hope this makes sense#i hope its actually helpful or useful#and doesnt just make me sound like ive gotten a big head from the response that people have been kind enough to give me#idk i just hope this isnt annoying or too much#seriously#thank you anon#tgcf#my writing#alasr#oh look it talks
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To this day I am still not over how ATROCIOUS Nesta's healing journey in ACOSF was. Like she had to hook up with a man who hated her and only saw her as a sex object/mate, wished she was better to HIM despite HIM locking her up, and ultimately ended up losing her powers and hoping she'd one day be "deserving" of love? And the way I've seen so many people say they "related" to her "healing" journey and her self-loathing... man they worry me, because she never really healed from that at all. She just... became nicer? ANd hoped being nicer would make her deserve better treatment
I'm kinda torn on the existence of Silver Flames
On the anti side
Nothing of value was added to or revealed about Nesta that didn't already exist in the trilogy. Some fans might argue the Valkyries are worth the 800 page dumpster dive but I'm not one of them. If erasing the book from existence meant they went too, I personally dgaf.
BUT on the "pro" PETTY side
And as someone who fully gave up Nessian in Frost and Starlight, and disliked it from the start, I'm kinda glad ACOSF happened.
anti Nessian would not nearly be as acceptable a position if SJM didn't force pro Nesta fans to sit through an actual relationship between the two.
Obviously as a Nesta fan I want the best for her personally and romantically but there was only one way Nessian was ever gonna happen and sjm's portrayal is accurate to the characters.
Cassian was never gonna choose her over them.
With Rhys in particular, without breaking character, Cassian and Azriel won't pick anyone they meet - bond or no bond - over their 500 year old loyalty.
And some fans needed to literally see that play out on the page to believe it.
There are very few avenues I see for Nesta to be herself and find peace or even happiness in Prythian.
As for her healing
sjm is too often praised for her inclusion of mental health and healing journeys but every iteration of it has either been over simplified or straight up bad and always in the name of romance.
Aelin. Feyre. Nesta. None of their journeys were well written or even written solely for the character themselves
Nesta's just sticks out as particularly bad because sjm can't self-insert and therefore doesn't like her as much. That's why Nesta can't love herself even in the end, cause sjm doesn't like her.
Some people attribute this to her reflecting personal experience in Aelin (and Feyre) but I actually think it's a personal reflection of sjm's narcissistic tendencies.
#anon asks#pro nesta#anti acosf#anti nessian#nesta archeron#nesta deserves better#anti sjm#sjm critical#sjm is a bad author
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Can i uh request for the brothers and the side characs for mc thats like atsushi from bsd? Btw if u dont know that its fine and just do a detective mc. Love your works btw and one of the best ive read!
Hello anon! I have only watched one season of bsd so far, so I don't know how accurate my portrayal of an Atsushi-like character will be, but I'll try my best.
I'm happy to hear you enjoy my work, I hope this one will be to your liking as well!
the obey me cast with a detective mc
-> brothers and side characters
-> mc is based on atsushi nakajima from bungo stray dogs
a/n: since luke is gonna be here, this will be a non-romantic scenario
mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read
content warnings: mild people pleasing mentions (not explicitly)
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Lucifer:
he's happy you are actually able to figure out who did something
the broken vase on the floor? yes, you knew who did it
you do ask lucifer to go a little softer on his brothers when punishing them
sometimes, when he is working late in his office, you'll bring him some coffee and snacks
you do encourage him to drop work and get rest, but he, as the avatar of pride, doesn't quite listen to your advice
Mammon
'you're a detective? can ya tell me smart ways to cheat at poker, then?'
you think such questions mammon asks you are funny yet worrisome
you actually do end up giving him some tips to cheat in casinos, but you also tell the demon the cheating is a terrible idea in the first place
sometimes, you help mammon out when he is in severe debt and needs to pay many witches back, he really appreciates your help
Leviathan
there's definitely a bungo stray dogs rip-off in the devildom called bungo stray cats
levi will point out you're kind of like the main character in that anime, therefore he likes you
he will invite you to play detective games in his room, and will ask for your help when he's stuck on an especially difficult part
thanks to you, levi gets really high scores in these games
Satan
you two instantly bond
we all know about satan's detective novel addiction, so meeting a real detective is like a dream come true for him
whenever there's a 'case', like a broken coffee machine in the house, and you're asked to figure out who broke it, satan is happy to be your personal helper
having an assistant actually boosts your confidence in solving the case, so you're glad satan helps out
by the way, belphie broke the machine
Asmodeus
asmo will ask you to answer the weirdest mysteries for him
mysteries like who stole his expensive bath bomb while he was in the kitchen at 12:36pm 50 years ago
honestly, you don't expect yourself to be able to find the culprit, but you still try to because you don't want to disappoint asmo
whenever you actually find the answer to such a mystery, he will cling onto you, praising and thanking you for your work, that's actually a nice feeling
Beelzebub
he thinks you're very sweet, he admires your personality
a whole new world opened up for beel the first time you let him try chazuke
now you and beel occasionally beg lucifer or diavolo to let you go to the human world for a while pure for the chazuke
food aside, beel believes your work must be exhausing at times
so, when you're hanging out, he makes sure you're at your most comfortable
Belphegor
belphie assumes you must be good at stealthy things, since you're a detective
so, he asks you to take sneaky pictures of lucifer, so him and satan can have a good laugh
you think it's a horrible idea, but you do it anyways because you want belphie to be happy
lucifer actually catches you and figures out what was going on
rip belphegor, he was a good man
Diavolo
let's just say he's happy you got selected for the exchange program
diavolo is very interested in your work and will ask you many questions about it
but, when he finds out detective work can be dangerous, he feels the need to assure your safety
before you go to your work, diavolo will stop you and hand you a hockey stick for self-defence
you thank him, it's nice of him to worry about your safety
Barbatos
you're the kind of person barbatos can really bond with
he will invite you for tea when he has a free day from his work
during your little tea parties, you mainly talk about work, but also about other things
barbatos is a very nice host, you feel the need to thank him for his efforts
so, you learn how to bake and make him a nice, fancy cake to bring to your next tea party
both of you, being very polite, keep throwing thank yous, it's nothings and no problems at each other
Simeon
he didn't really know exactly what kind of work detectives do, since he lives in the celestial realm and crime is very rare there, so there's no real need for detectives
once you tell stories from work, he is very invested in your words
so much, he writes a detective into the TSL franchise
but, when you write a book, you always have to do research on the topic aside from stories and simeon eventually finds out the work may be dangerous
so, as an angel, he decides to use his powers to protect you in silence
Luke
luke doesn't quite get what the concept of a detective is, as in he knows, but he's too innocent to understand they work with cruel criminals
like, he'll ask you where he can find the best apples for apple pie
you actually end up searching every store and market for the highest quality apples, and you bring luke some when you've found them
then, luke will insist you make the pie together
Solomon
the first thing you want to know is why his cooking is so terrible
turns out, that's a mystery nobody can solve
solomon will ask you to solve questions that can actually be solved by anyone
for example, he'll ask you why asmo is mad at him after he stole his bath bomb
jokes aside, he has great respect for you and the work you do
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me swd#obey me scenarios#obey me imagines#omswd#om#gn!mc#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#beelzebub obey me#belphegor obey me#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon#obey me luke#lucifer#leviathan#mammon#asmodeus#beelzebub#belphegor#diavolo#barbatos#simeon#solomon
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Billy Butcher is a genuinely worse person than Homelander and this is plain to see when you actually read the comics.
Homelander actually feels disgusted with himself when he does bad things. And he only does them because he's been led to believe he was horrible without actually having done any of the shit he's blackmailed for in the photos and videos. Including what happened to Becky.
If it's not clear. It was Black Noir, a clone of Homelander, who put on his costume, did those terrible things and enjoyed them, and then took pictures and videos to frame Homelander. Noir was the one to rape Becky, but Homelander got the blame.
And the very few things we actually see Homelander do show us how much revulsion he feels from doing them, to the point where he throws up and has a visceral reaction, like he doesn't actually want to and isn't used to it. Asking himself "what have I done?".
That's far from a spoiler at this point, these comics have been out in full, for several years now. I'm not gonna pull punches or be dishonest about it like some people confessing weird out of context bullshit either.
In contrast.
Butcher kills all of his friends, excuse me. All of the people he used and lied to and made believe he was actually their friend, with no remorse or second thought. Or at least tries to.
Kimiko. Frenchie. MM. Even Vas (Love Sausage). All of them die by Billy's hands. For no other reason beyond.
"They're supes."
Despite the fact that this is after he discovered he was wrong about Homelander the whole fucking time.
Down to trying to kill MM's momma. Down to killing Janine's fucking mother in front of her so that she witnesses it. And then makes sure MM knows that for Billy, he "ain't got no mates".
Hughie is the only one to survive because after killing the others, Butcher threatens to kill Starlight and says he won't stop unless Hughie stops him.
There's no question here. Butcher was always the bigger monster. He just didn't have the power to be as bad as Homelander could be. Potentially.
Potentially. And that is a huge fucking key word.
Barring the fact that Homelander never actually met that potential or even wanted it. Noir was the actual monster, using Billy to confuse him into believing he had, so he would try. Just so the clone could swoop in kill him.
Imagine that.
And there are still people deranged enough to think there's any kind of contest on who's worse between Billy and Homelander?
Fuck's sake, this guy immediately kills a fucking premie baby instead of trying to pacify it because it's terrified out of its mind and has powers it can't control. With a lamp.
I love the show, I love the portrayals and the jobs done by the actors. I think it does a great job touching on the important topics and themes in the comics while connecting it to current events. I do hope it has a different ending. But one thing's clear.
While the characters are fundamentally the same at their cores. They made Billy softer and sweeter while they made Homelander harder and more ruthless in order to make the dynamic more mainstream and less controversial. Which is honestly a bit disappointing.
It also makes me a little worried because if they don't find a way to navigate that well, it may mean they've messed up the finish line before we could ever reach it. They could definitely go for something more comic accurate or even include Billy killing Ryan and just not caring anymore as per typical Butcher fashion, but given that they've already chickened out on some of the more intense stuff, I can't say it's high in the hopes factor.
And a happy ending doesn't exactly feel appropriate either.
But who knows, maybe the set up is there specifically to make everything hurt that much more in the end if or when Billy betrays everyone.
And this is coming from someone who is ecstatic to see Homelander go on a chaotic rampage of blood, death, and destruction. Bring it the fuck on you goddamn chaos cockteases.
But yeah, no. It's no contest. Billy is a far worse character than Homelander in the comics, and he has the potential to get a lot worse in the show. He's not there yet, but it's pretty clear he actively wants to be and it's grating him that he isn't yet.
Guess it'll be interesting to see if that comes to fruition or if there's even some crazy twist that shows us Homelander isn't as bad as people think.
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Hi! I recently found your blogs, and can I just say how much I love your character analyses? Your portrayal of each character is always so in depth to the point where I can even picture them acting and speaking the same in game! I'm so impressed and I seriously don't know how you connect to each and every one of them so perfectly :O
If I may ask, what does your research and character profile process look like? As someone interested in writing, I hope to be as skilled as you with analysing characters (and writing plots and writing in general--) one day :) Any tips would be appreciated!
Thank you so much for all the hard work you do. I know I'll enjoy the story you come up with next!
Aww thank you so much!! Honestly sometimes I worry that my analyses won't be to everyone's tastes, so I'm very glad you think that they're good! I feel the same way about my writing because I know they're not the most romantic, so it's a relief to know you like it. ;v; <3 I have a lot to say about your questions though, so I'm going to put it under a readmore. It's an uh... infodump HAHA
When it comes to research, what it basically comes down to is reading everything. Read the character's lore, read their voice lines. Read what other characters have to say about them. Even talking to every NPC you see in the hopes that they'll talk about a character helps out a lot too HAHA. I also recommend going back to old events when doing research too. Reread them. Listen to the voice actor's portrayal of them. Read everything you can.
This is take three of trying to explain my character analysis process, but I'm going to give up and just explain to you the main logic that governs it. Basically what it boils down to is: we are not unique. Humans are not unique. What do I mean by this? People that are certain ways--for example, they have a low self-esteem, consistently overwork themselves, they want children when they get older, etc--they will typically share common characteristics. When you know the defining characteristics of each trait, you can potentially apply that trait to everyone you know that displays those characteristics.
For example, people that constantly overwork themselves typically have unhealthily high levels of perceived responsibility, typically with a self-deprecative trait that they don't deserve to be happy and rest. People that are very showy tend to care a lot about what people think of them. People that are extremely close to their families typically lose the ability to function properly without them.
If you know people that are like the examples above, you know that these observations are pretty accurate. And these examples represent pretty common types of people as well. Once you've seen one of them, you've seen them all. Nobody is unique. And because of that, you can apply these observations to characters because characters are meant to be human. Example one is Kaveh. Example two is Itto. And example 3 is Lyney. Now you've gotten a deeper dive into their psyche.
The way you become better at character analysis is by broadening your internal library of traits and their defining characteristics. This involves three steps: observation, drawing connections between observations, and fine tuning these connections by applying them to other people.
These steps are easy to understand, but let me go a bit more into step one. Observations come in two categories: physical observations and intuitive observations. Physical observations encompass things they physically do. Intuitive observations are larger statements that can't be tied to just a single physical observation. For example, physical observations may be that they don't go out much, they don't talk much in groups but do one-on-one, they wear bright colors, they're rude, etc. Intuitive observations are more: they seem to be uncomfortable around children, they act like they're scared to contact first, they're always on the move, etc.
The second step involves drawing lines between observations and trying to deduce meaning. For example, [they end their sentences using a rising intonation] + [they ask me my opinion a lot] = [this person cares about not sounding rude or unwelcoming]. Or, [they have a low self-esteem] + [they care about being seen as morally good] + [they engage in fandom] = [I probably should not tell this person I think Dottore and his penchant for human experimentation is hot].
Typically the logic goes: [physical observation] + [physical observation] = [intuitive observation]. [physical observation] + [intuitive observation] = [mid-tier intuitive observation]. [intuitive observation] + [intuitive observation] = [top tier intuitive observation].
But it does not end at step two. Step three basically tests to see if your observation from step two is valid or not. When you apply your observation from step two to a multitude of people, you're able to fine tune your observation to make it more generalized and more accurate. Maybe you realize that not everyone that ends their sentences in a rising intonation is necessarily polite, but it's more of a cultural thing. Maybe you see that having low self-esteem isn't always a symptom of having a high moral code. Test, revise, then test again. The higher the tier of your observation, the greater the chance it has of being wrong.
When I analyze characters, I go through my mental library and see which traits and characteristics I've catalogued before. And for things that don't have an exact match, I try to find ones that shares at least a few things in common that may follow the same logic. For example, I don't know anyone like Zhongli. However, I do have a friend that's very outgoing, but you can have a full on conversation with them and leave not knowing anything about them. Can I apply the logic of my friend to someone like Zhongli?
I will say this and I will say this again. People are not unique. Everyone is a copy of someone else in some way. When you treat the characters as if you were analysing any other normal human being, you can quite easily draw conclusions from what they have in common with people you know and have seen.
Anyway, this is so long I am so sorry. Hopefully I didn't completely bowl you over with information. OTL
#interactions#anon#another thing i want to say is like....#don't try to hold back the frankness of your observations#if you've ever read my analyses of kaveh they're uhhh.... not the nicest (tho idk if i only posted them on my personal...)#in order to become aware of flaws of characters you need to be able to accept the flaws objectively in others#if someone is mean then say they're mean. if they have a martyr complex then say they have a martyr complex#don't be afraid of being objective. that only hurts the process#some people think that it's not nice to give attention to the flaws of people you love#in my opinion that's complete bull#when you are aware of a person's flaws you understand them better and they become easier to forgive#you can rightfully say#'yes you may have flaws but knowing them makes me love you even more'#you get me?#also what helps is sharing your analyses with others and have them help you to refine your observations#also don't be afraid to observe and draw conclusions in general#sometimes you may feel you're invading a person's privacy#and uh..... to that....... um...#you have to decide what matters more to you. getting better at analysis or giving someone their privacy HAHA#by this i don't mean like... be a stalker or anything#but i think the biggest thing to actually remember the most is that....#CORRELATION DOES NOT IMPLY CAUSATION#just because a character shares all the traits a pattern you've seen in real life doesn't mean that's their issue#take everything EVERYTHING you deduce with a grain of salt#this is ESPECIALLY so when you are analyzing real people#no matter how accurate you think you may be you are not an empath nor are you a mind reader or god#do NOT act upon your deductions or think you know what's best for people from them#in the end analysis is purely theoretical so like... don't take yourself too seriously and have fun uwu
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Sorry if my english is not good but personally i like how you portray simon is unstable and how it leads to his ends. You wrote the warnings, i read it and loved it, heart breaking things like this make my day honestly. How does people knew that and complained about what they read THE WARNING IS THERE if they are too fragile or a child they should avoid it, your blog has a lot of other good content, youre an amazing writer who is not afraid of writing different topics. I hope you’re not uncomfortable writing about this topic because there are genuinely people that love this kind of content.
warning; mentions of dark topics, like suicide, sh
yes, i have talked about my blog being 100% 18+ and dark content. i talk about yandere, kidnapping, stepcest, ect... taboo topics that have people leaving hate in my askbox- which i don't respond to, as that's all they want. but, whenever i talk about stepcest, i always give a warning, like i did in that post for suicide!! it happens in reality, it something i find an interesting topic and how it could affect someone mentally. i like talking about the mental health side of issues, it's always been something i've been interested in. and i know i'm not 100% accurate, it's not my portrayal, but what i can describe with what i know atm.
something i included in that post, was simon having mental health issues, how he tore himself down and the following events lead to his death, a regretful choice bringing down the remaining part. or how he'd thrown away the one person who loved him, who mended and fixed him. i thought i made that clear, maybe i didn't, maybe i did, i'm not sure - but it doesn't feel like something i should take down as it happens in real life.
of course it can be triggering, but that's why i put a warning.
and thank you!! i'm glad you appreciate my work as i put time into it for you guys, and i love hearing your support :) it means a lot to me!! and don't worry, usually one person's opinion doesn't dictate my choices so i will continue to write for dark topics as that's what my blog is about, with warnings of course 🎀☄️ thank you so much <33 🫶🌟
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“I stopped worrying what my parents think of my life choices a long time ago.”
Bashir had said it so casually, as though it was nothing of consequence. Perhaps to him it was not. To Garak, it was nothing short of astonishing.
At first Garak reasoned that this made a certain amount of sense. The Federation did not concern itself with familiar responsibilities or legacies to the same degree that Cardassians did, so naturally Bashir could disregard his parents’ opinions with ease.
Except.
The doctor had shared many books with him over the last five years, and a few of them had touched upon this theme. Some of the characters struggled with disappointing their parents, and this in books Bashir insisted were meant to be accurate portrayals of human life at the time. Indeed, one man had quite ruined his life trying to please his parents.
In the end, Garak was forced to admit to the bottom of a glass of kanar that while the social consequences were not so disastrous for a human as a Cardassian, disappointing one’s parents was never exactly easy. And that, therefore, Bashir’s casual disregard for what his parents thought of his life choices meant that the doctor was a far stronger man than Garak could ever hope to be.
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RWRB TRAILER
okay I'm too excited to be coherent but that trailer was seriously better than I'd hoped for. there will definitely be some things I nitpick and worry over when I watch it back again but for a first glance they were fairly accurate with the vibe of the book and all the important scenes seem to be there. chemistry was lacking at moments but this trailer made me a lot more hopeful for Taylor and nick's portrayals of the characters.
what are your thoughts?
#rwrb#red white and royal blue#red white and royal blue movie#alex claremont diaz#prince henry rwrb#henry fox mountchristen windsor#firstprince#alex and henry#casey mcquiston#cmq#rwrb movie#rwrb adaptation#nicholas galitzine#taylor zakhar perez
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Wednesday & Neurodivergence
This is mostly an idle musing which I touched on in my Wednesday video, but I think one thing the show did fairly well was actually managing to make an autistic character who is a jerk without making me angry or coming off as hateful.
Hear me out.
I'm very autistic, and I hate how so much media portrays autism & Neurodivergence as:
"Oh this character is autistic which means they lack emotions and are huge assholes!"
Not just solely because its hateful, or makes us look bad, but because its inaccurate. Not just to how autism works but how in the real world autistic people are used to being rejected and bullied and otherwise mistreated for struggling with social norms, communication, hyperfixations and so on.
I recall a good post talking about portrayals like Sherlock and Sheldon and how:
"Its like they have never faced rejection in their lives."
Wednesday actually makes this work for a few reasons.
1: The show draws a clear line between when Wednesday is being Neurodivergent, Addams Family Morbid, or just a jerk.
When she just doesn't understand something, rejects socializing because the actions of others distress her or has an interest in something 'weird' Wednesday is never demonized for it. She is instead framed sympathetically or sometimes neutrally.
Characters who accept her boundaries, needs and interests, such as not touching her, such as not being crowded, or her love of the macabre are consistently shown as closer to her and more sympathetic than those who do not or otherwise try and pressure her to behave 'normally'.
That is to say, autism/Neurodivergence is not the 'cause' of Wednesday often being a jerk. It is in fact just part of what makes her Wednesday and is thus morally neutral and something to be respected and understood. It can help inform some of her other thought processes such as incorrect conclusions she might reach but its in no way the cause of her more mean behavior.
2: The reason Wednesday is often mean is, well, she's kind of spoiled.
She comes from a wealthy and powerful family who share many of her interests and hyperfixations. Said family is extremely loving and indulgent, their wealthy and supernatural nature protects Wednesday from the consequences of her own actions.
Now, it doesn't protect her entirely, such as when some "Normies" killed her pet scorpion in what was functionally a hate crime against her.
However, she's still by and large insulated from discrimination that would endanger her after that & in comparison to other 'Outcasts'. But, more to the point, her family's money & connections mean even when she, for example causes huge amount of physical damage to others, she can avoid real repercussions.
It genuinely seems like sending her to Nevermore is the first time her parents have tried to impose limits on her actions at all. These factors also likely played a part in her otherwise being so careless in regards to targeting those who bullied her brother.
She is portrayed as very smart and often quite methodical, but it seems Wednesday rarely worries about the possible consequences of her actions. Be it from authority figures or her peers, or the dangerous situations she puts herself into until its too late.
Meaning she is quite reckless and brazen; seeming genuinely shocked and often frustrated when running up against a wall. Such as being defeated in fencing or not being able to simple brute force her way through interactions with others.
3: This can especially be seen in her relationship with Enid.
She's annoyed at being sent to Nevermore & angry at her parents for "Trying to make me like them", how accurate the latter complaint is could be considered question. As it mostly seems they are just sharing fond memories they hope might make her see Nevermore in a good ight and them not having sent her to Nevermore until the legal system demanded it to protect her.
Whatever the case, when Wednesday finds Enid's energetic and colorful personality to be annoying she takes out her frustration on Enid by being generally rude, antagonistic and above all, controlling.
She expects Enid to simply do as she says and to accommodate her desires. Showing no real regard foe her space or possessions and often giving blunt orders to her. But then she seems rather flummoxed when Enid responds to her behavior by -after giving up being friendly- matching Wednesday's antagonism with her own. So much so when it seems like it might come to blows, Enid shows herself entirely happy to stand up for herself.
This can also be seen when Enid withholds help Wednesday expects from her until she apologizes for mistreating Thing. She is shocked she upset him, bust also seems genuinely confused that she is expected to apologize for her actions if she wants either of their help. After all, normally when she lashes out at her parents in some way they simply roll with it, but not here.
Enid is by and large the main reason Wednesday seemed to grow as a person throughout the show. Respecting Wednesday's boundaries, needs and even if they made her uncomfortable her interests. While always firmly imposing her own boundaries and reasonable expectations on Wednesday.
It also isn't like Enid's perfect as the surprise party she threw stressed Wednesday out & she is portrayed sympathetically for it & Enid apologizes.
But that can also be contrasted with Wednesday deceiving Enid about the manor investigation and then refusing to take responsibility for Enid being upset by the situation, Wednesday put her into, as Enid did for her. Hence, Enid being the more emotionally mature of the two.
4: All of this also lays into her being so impacted by Enid's absence.
IE, up until this point Wednesday has thought she likely being alone and didn't care for or need company... Because she's never been truly alone before.
Her family has always been providing for her the kind of social support and safety she needs to the point where she find them kind of irritating. She might not have had friends at school but her brother was there and her family was large and always accommodating to her needs and desires.
Thus, it is easy for her essentially take them for granted and to think she doesn't need companionship or friends because she's never really been without it.
Bit with them -barring Thing- absent and having driven Enid away, Wednesday encounters, likely for the first time what it is like to be lonely and hates it. Her mood only starting to improve with her uncle's arrival and then with Enid's return.
This doesn't mean she became an extrovert or anything, merely that we are a social species that doesn't cope well with isolation and a lack of companionship.
Wednesday does not radically alter her demeanor or identity and suddenly start chilling in the school yard with with the homies or otherwise "Normalize" herself.
What she does is make it a point to be more considerate of those she keeps close & to allow more open communication so to maintain those relationships in a mutual, rather than one sided fashion.
Conclusion:
So yeah, I think that they actually managed to make this concept work quite well. With there being a clear dividing line between what behaviors were and weren't acceptable. & then tying those that were not to her privilege's as opposed to her Neurodivergence which was instead presented neutrally to sympathetically.
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THIS. THIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSS.
I know a lot of people are worried the webtoon will be too fanon-y and not based enough on comic canon, but I feel like this scene alone captured a core part of Jason’s character arc (and even some of Bruce’s) that makes me feel hope for Red Hood: Outlaws. Jason takes really well to being Robin in the comics, but he doesn’t start that way; him coming into his role as Robin and learning to let the good in his heart out front and center is something that, if the webtoon is exploring, is giving me hope that this will be at least somewhat good about writing Jason accurately (not that comic continuity really exists anymore, but there are better comic portrayals that I’m hoping to see)
I’m hyped as hell so see y’all when the first episode drops!
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Cold-blooded, ruthlessly efficient, and cruel in its methods. These are words that can be applied to an alligator, sizing up its target as it lurks beneath the surface and waits for the perfect opportunity to drag it into the depths. The same words can equally apply to Shuuji’s father, who never stops watching his every move, judging Shuuji for missteps he doesn’t even know he’s making as he tries to live up to unclear and impossible expectations.
Stressed, scared senseless, and operating entirely on adrenaline. These are words that can be applied to somebody attempting to escape from an alligator, desperate for a shred of hope. The same words can equally apply to a participant in a game of capture the flag, where one team’s lone survivor fights for their life in hopes that a singular small success will turn the tides.
Shuuji gets a weird text at the worst possible time. Ryo risks his neck for the sake of the team. There’s alligators.
yeah im not posting the entire fic under the readmore , im not prepared to spend another two hours of trial-and-error on formatting. anyway i have so much to say about digisurvive but im unfortunately not the type to talk about stuff unprompted until im much more confident n comfortable. instead i'll talk about the First Ficwriting Experience Since 2016
ive seen all four endings but i havent done what im calling my Victory Lap playthrough yet. what i mean by Victory Lap is that i got my guys at lvl 80+ and the only real purpose of going thru it all again is to see any early-game missed dialogue and take unnecessarily-meticulous character notes
im not about to claim to be a Blorbo Expert w a PhD or anything but i think ive got a pretty solid understanding of the bulk of the characters and can manage a pretty accurate portrayal . shuuji and ryo are definitely the easiest characters for me to write , and im anticipating that the same will be true for kaito. i cant say for certain tho since i havent explored his voice much yet but im more or less confident that i can do a good job
at first i was like oh god oh fuck i cant write aoi but i thought about it for 2 seconds and it turns out that uhhhhhhhh i was a lot like her when i was a teenager. the insecurities are exactly the same, it is so horrifyingly uncanny. so for me, saki is the one that i find the most difficult to characterize and i love that because it seems so deliberate. this girl DOES NOT want you to perceive her and is doing her best to ensure that you do not notice that she has anything to hide. if you are good at writing saki, i have a lot of respect for your tremendous power
but thankfully sakis presence in this is minimal so i dont have to worry about that just yet. what i AM worried about are my formatting choices. i think theres a lot of potential in fucking around with indentation, typeface, and text placement, so im taking a swing at trying to push it further than i have before. i think it can serve so well to imply when something is happening, what else is happening at the same time, and how it makes the characters feel without having to outright say so. i dont want it looking like a geronimo stilton book tho so i gotta learn to strike a balance lmao
SO much of the way i enjoy character portrayal comes from tone and nonverbal communication, especially really subtle stuff like eye movement and body language. i think it can be so challenging to write that stuff in a way that doesn't feel clunky or encumber the pacing. the thing im practicing right now is saying stuff without saying it, and also trying to improve my imagery & symbolic language. im having a lot of fun with it
mkay im actually late for work so i need to post this damn thing and move on my with my day. thanks for your time!!
#digimon survive#ryo tominaga#shuuji kayama#digimon#drops this in the digisurvive tag like roadkill . heres my offering. i havent posted fic since 2016#under the readmore you can find me talking into the void
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hi, in you post the other day you said that some authors `wrongly portray PTSD` ? can you axplain what you mean by that?
Hi anon!
I assume you are referring to this post, though I have made a couple at this point.
When it comes down to it, I mostly mean two things with that: ignoring their PTSD and trauma entirely and the portrayal being medically/factually incorrect.
I wish I could say that you can completely ignore the shit that happened to them and still write the characters as they, but in my opinion they are way to intertwined, you cannot separate Joel from his trauma because his trauma MADE him Joel, same with Ellie. Unless it is an AU and/or purposefully written out of character, you have to acknowledge their PTSD in some way. And mind you, even in most AUs people still include Sarah's death and Ellie's traumatic experiences because they are defining to their characters.
Still, my issue isn't even with people completely ignoring it (honestly if you wanna do that please do! let them be carefree and happy), the problem arises when people continue to write them the way they are, PTSD symptoms and all, but do not acknowledge it whatsoever. Ellie flinches and it's portrayed as funny, Joel is anxiously overbearing and it's written as "oh he is just like that", I am talking about authors taking serious disordered symptoms and depathologizing them. This is dangerous because it means people who aren't as educated on the matter read that and think those experiences are normal. They are not.
The second problem is people writing PTSD and other disorders in a way that is medically incorrect, either out of pure ignorance/lack of education or on purpose because it serves their plot.
Before I explain why exactly that is an issue though I wanna say that there IS a third version of this one where it is okay. If you have PTSD/whatever disorder it is about and write it in a way that provides catharsis to you or helps you process something that is 100% alright, you are not contributing to the problem. Writing is personal and sometimes we don't want the shit we go through on the daily to be as heavy as it actually is, just the comfort we can come up with. So if you are reading this and worried I mean you: I don't, promise.
Now, the problem. I think the most obvious one is the fact that it is inaccurate representation that can not only give people false information but also contribute to stereotypes. If you are not educated enough to write an accurate portrayal of PTSD the one you do write will be based on ableist stereotypes society throws at us.
I have read fics not just in this fandom but basically all the other ones I have been in where panic attacks and triggers are healed by "the power of love", where panic attacks are always excessive hyperventilation and laying on the floor and it's the only symptom they have, where bad memories are erased because the person they like suddenly does love them back. Any symptoms that would require someone to actually understand how trauma affects someone are just fully erased or ignored. People get triggered and it's either "haha funny look how they flinch" or "you are evil for showing symptoms" - not even intentionally, but the way people write about it expresses exactly that to someone who has PTSD. There are inaccurate depictions of dissociation like "they pass out and need to be carried home" which is simply not how it works at all, or contradictory things like "they dissociated the whole time but still remember every little things" (if you didn't know, dissociation prevents memories from forming, it is not possible to heavily dissociate and then remember everything afterward).
I could go on and on about the shit I have seen, but I think this explains what exactly I meant by "inaccurate portrayals of PTSD". It contributes to ableism and stereotypes and unless you have PTSD yourself you have no business writing it like this. Trauma isn't your playground, either do it properly or not at all.
I hope this helped you understand anon, feel free to leave another ask if you have more questions or need something clarified, I am always happy to respond! I hope you have a good day <3
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Different
AN | I’m backkkk with Javi and his Dulzura. Did you think you’d seen the last of them? Well, not this time bucko. Please read and heed the warnings as I know it can be a sensitive subject. I’ve never personally gone through this but I know people that have and I hope I did it some justice and gave it at least a semi-accurate portrayal. I love you, just as you are ❤️
Summary | Things just aren’t the same after your newest arrivals.
Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Postpartum depression - lots of heavy discussion around this subject
Word Count | 3.5k
Masterlist | Main, Javier, A Good Man ‘Verse
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The rocking chair wasn't the most comfortable, feeling even more stiff and hard than it normally did, but you didn't have it in you to get up. Moving to somewhere different seemed like way too much effort so you gave up. Instead, you rocked yourself lightly back and forth, staring out the window at the dark evening sky.
The house was quiet for once, an incredible change of pace from the normal chaos that had become your everyday life. Between two young children, two babies, two dogs, and your husband, life was anything but calm. Some days it was so much, too much, and you wanted nothing more than to be alone for a while.
You had everything you could have ever wanted; a wonderful husband, beautiful children, a nice home, everything. But things still just felt off, you felt off. And you didn't know what to do, or how to even ask for what you needed. You weren't sure what you even needed.
"Dulzura?" Javier's voice was barely above a whisper as he peeked into the nursery. A frown tugged on the corners of his mouth as he spied you sitting there, the only source of light being the little night light plugged in across the room. You held up your hand in acknowledgement but didn't move or say anything, "baby. What's wrong?"
After a few moments, you finally turned to him and his heart practically shattered when he saw there were tears running down your cheeks. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, finding it impossible to speak so you just shrugged, feeling so helpless.
He wasted no time in coming over to you and dropping to his knees, wrapping his arms tightly around you. It was like his simple touch caused the floodgates to open as you hugged him back and buried your face in his chest. He held you for a few minutes, letting you get it all out before he pulled back, gently taking your face in his hands.
"Hey," he was as quiet as possible so he wouldn't wake the sleeping babies, "mi vida. Let me take care of you…please."
He felt you nod against his chest before he slowly stood up and helped you to your feet. You felt your body relax as he took your hand and slowly led you out of the nursery and into your bedroom. You moved to sit on the bed. Letting out a long sigh, you allowed yourself to meet his eyes. There was nothing but concern etched on his features; it hurt your heart to see him so worried about you. That’s the last thing you wanted.
Javier kneeled down in front of you, his hands sliding onto your thighs before he took your hands in his. You looked at your hands in his, how warm and safe they felt when wrapped up in his; the same hands that had loved you for so long. You squeezed his hands, running a finger over the cool metal of his wedding band.
“Baby,” he whispered after a few moments of silence, his own voice almost breaking as he looked at you, “please talk to me. Tell me what’s going on so I can help…”
“Javi,” an odd sense of relief washed through him at the sound of your voice. When you finally met his eyes, he could see they were glossy with tears that were threatening to spill over any second. He reached up and touched your face, gently stroking your cheek, “Javier.”
“Dulzura,” the tears ran down your cheek as he gently wiped them away and you leaned into his touch, “please.”
“I don’t know,” you finally managed to choke out after a few moments of struggle, throwing your hands up in a fit of exasperation, “I don’t know what’s wrong, Javier. I just feel so…empty.”
“Oh baby,” he wasn’t sure if it was possible for his heart to break anymore than it had, but he felt something within him shatter. You met his eyes and tried to muster up some semblance of a smile but it fell flat. He wished he could take away everything you were feeling and carry the burden for you; he never wanted you to have to experience anything like this, “how long have you been feeling like this?”
How long have I been an oblivious fool?
“Since…” you didn’t want to say it out loud. Saying it out would make it real…saying it out loud would make you a horrible mother. But you knew Javier would be able to see right through you, “a little after Thea and Santi were born.”
Oh no.
“Dulzura,” Javier sat on the floor and quickly pulled you into his lap, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You buried your face into his shoulder, trying to quiet the sobs that threatened to wrack your body, “I’m so sorry…so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. I’m sorry you’re having to go through this. But you’re not alone, I’m right here. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”
“I shouldn’t be like this,” you whispered against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. He could feel your tears already soaking through the material, but it didn't matter to him. You were the only thing that mattered to him, “I’m a terrible mother.”
“No,” he gently pulled back and turned your face towards his, “don’t ever say that. You are a wonderful mother - an amazing mother. You are the best mother our children could ever have; do you have any clue how lucky we are to have you?”
“Then why do I feel like this?” you asked quietly, “why am I so broken?”
“There is nothing broken about you,” he insisted so softly, so firmly that you almost believed it yourself, “the way you’re feeling…it’s not true. I don’t lie, you know that, and I would never lie to you.”
“Javier…”
“I’m going to take care of you,” he promised softly, “whatever you’re going through, you’re not alone. I’m with you all the way. But first, I want you to try and get some sleep, okay?”
“The kids-”
“I’ll check on them,” he insisted, “and if one of them needs something, I can take care of them. Will you try and get some rest, Dulzura? For me?”
“Yes,” you would have done anything for him; you didn’t want to see him hurt as well, “I’ll try.”
“Good,” he tried a tentative smile before he kissed your forehead, “tomorrow things will look brighter and it will be a new day. We’ll get this figured and whatever you need, help or otherwise, we’ll get it for you. Okay?”
“Okay,” Javier felt a wave of relief flood through his veins as you offered him a hug this time around, “I love you; I will always love you. If you don’t believe anything else, please believe that.”
“I do,” you promised, “I really do.”
“Good mi alma,” he whispered as he pulled back the covers to tuck you into bed, “te amo.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
When you woke up the next morning the house was almost…eerily quiet. Normally there would be the sound of at least one screaming child, one laughing, and the pitter patter of little feet. But today there was nothing. You rubbed your tired eyes before glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand, shocked to find that it was close to noon. You almost jumped out of bed, quickly heading into the hall to look into the kids’ room. None of them were there. Making your way into the kitchen, you found Javier leaning against the counter and drinking a cup of coffee as he poured over the newspaper.
“Good morning baby,” he looked up and smiled as soon as noticed you standing there in confusion, “you finally got some sleep.”
“Javier,” you whispered softly, “where are the children? We have four children and none of them are here.”
“Nope,” he agreed as he grabbed the tea kettle from the stove and filled it with water to make your favorite tea. You padded over to him, wondering how he could be so calm; if either one of you was overprotective, it was definitely him, “don’t worry, they’re safe and sound. Pops came and picked them up this morning. He’s going to take them for the weekend and my tías are going to help him.”
“All of them?” you knew they were in good hands and that realistically nothing would go wrong, but it still caused a pang of worry to settle in your stomach. Javier nodded before wrapping you up in a tight hug, gently kissing the top of your head, “I can explain. But first, your tea and then I’ll make some breakfast.”
You nodded, a small smile - a real one - tugged on the corners of your mouth as you went to sit on the other side of the counter. He fixed up your tea before passing it to you, his hand lingering against yours as you gratefully accepted the warm mug. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as he set about grabbing everything he would need. You loved this man so much; sometimes it surprised just how much. You would have done anything for him, and you knew he’d do the same thing.
“Javi,” you felt small as your voice sounded small and weak. He turned his attention to you, quietly waiting for you to go, “thank you for last night. You…thank you.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he promised, “you are everything to me. I would do anything for you - just like all the times you’ve done the same for me.”
“I know,” you blinked away some of the tears that were already burning in the back of your eyes, “it’s just…I thought if I just dealt with it, all the bad feelings and thoughts would go away. But obviously they haven’t.”
“Want to tell me about them?” you knew he wouldn’t push you to talk about anything you weren’t ready to. You’d always loved that about him - it was like he knew you inside and out, “you don’t have to tell me. If you want to tell them to someone else, a therapist or whatever you need, that’s fine. I want to support you however you need.”
“I want to tell you,” you promised, “but I think maybe I should see someone too. I know it’s helped you, and maybe…maybe it could help me too. I don’t want to feel this broken forever.”
“You are anything but broken,” he insisted firmly, “do you know how much you’ve been through? You have four - five including me - children that you’re raising. Two of which are babies that you just carried and had. I can’t even imagine all the hormones and emotions going all over the place. But that doesn’t mean it’s anything to do with you - it’s just your brain telling you otherwise.”
His impassioned little speech brought a smile to your face as you nodded lightly; maybe he was right. Maybe it wasn’t just you…you wondered if all mothers went through this and people just didn’t like talking about it. Having your children was amazing and you loved them all more than anything, but that didn’t mean it was always easy.
“I love you, Javier Peña.”
“I love you more,” he leaned over the counter and gently kissed you. He tasted sweet, just like the few chocolate chips he’d sneaked when he thought you weren’t looking. Before he could pull back, you stole a few more quick pecks, which made him feel infinitely better, “there’s one more thing and then the floor is yours. And you don’t even try to change my mind because it’s not going to work. Once the summer is over I’ve decided to take a sabbatical for the fall semester. I want to be here and be able to help you; we’ve doubled our family and it’s not easy work - I don’t think twins and then almost five and eight-year-old could ever be easy. Especially since they’re all still so young…and I want to do this. I want to be able to spend time with my wife and children.”
“Javi,” he wasn’t sure if you were going to chastise him for doing this without your knowledge or if you were ready to jump into his arms and cry. He hoped it would be the latter with happy tears, “you would do that for me - for us?
“I would do anything for you,” he reached over and squeezed your hand, “and I want to do this. You don’t have to do this all alone, let me carry some of the weight. I…I would take all your burdens away if I could, baby.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re a good man?” you wiped away the few tears that rolled down your cheeks before laughing lightly.
“Oh, you know, just a few times,” he attempted to wink at you, but it turned into just more of a blink which caused you both to laugh, “but I still like hearing it.”
“I like reminding you,” you drank up the last of your tea as he started making pancakes. The ones with the little chocolate chips that you both liked so much. You watched him work, weighing your words carefully. He didn’t push you to go on, letting you take your time. He paused from his cooking only for a moment as he ducked into the living room and turned on the record player, letting the air fill with soft music you couldn’t quite place. It felt like a normal Saturday morning; it served as a reminder that sometimes things were just good.
He was singing along softly to the music, causing you to pause and admire him. You couldn’t imagine a day without him, a life where he wasn’t your husband, your best friend, the father of your children. And to think, had your registration date and time that fateful semester been any different, you might not have been in his class, you might not have met him. But then again no - you knew that you were meant to be his and he was meant to be yours and that you would have found each other regardless.
“It didn’t start right when they were born,” you started softly, deciding to get everything off your chest. You hadn’t wanted to bother him initially, hadn’t wanted to weigh him down with the demons that were haunting you. But you knew, in reality you’d always known, that he would never think of you, or any of your thoughts or feelings as a burden. Javier made a small sound of acknowledgement as he kept cooking, “it was weeks after. It started slowly at first and it just got worse and worse and I felt like it was just going to drag me down and drown me in sorrow. I felt so bad, Javier, so bad. How could I feel this way? I have everything anyone could ever dream of - I have a wonderful husband, four healthy children, a home filled with nothing but love, a career I love…I have it all. I have no reason to be so sad or depressed, you know? I hated myself for feeling like; I felt so ungrateful so…bad.”
You wrapped your robe tighter around your shoulders as you used the soft sleeve to wipe away your tears. Even just saying those thoughts out loud felt like a giant weight off your shoulders. You took a deep breath before continuing, “and I felt so guilty. I’d be holding one of the babies or with Lucia or Diego and while I knew I loved them, more than anything else, I just felt so empty. And I wondered what if something happened to them? What if I did something to them without realizing it? I couldn’t live with myself if I ever did anything to them…my babies. Sometimes when I’d be home alone and it felt like too much, I wondered what would happen if I just…walked away from them for a bit. Then I pulled myself back and…what kind of a mother even thinks those thoughts? It made me feel like a monster, Javi.”
“None of those things make you a monster,” he whispered as he turned off the stove and came over to you, and you instantly threw yourself into his arms, “obviously I don’t know everything, I know almost nothing really, but I did a lot of reading during the times you were pregnant. I remember reading a lot of stories and accounts of mothers that were feeling the same things you were. It’s so much more common than we realize. I don’t know why people don’t talk more about it. Postpartum depression…it’s like people are afraid to speak about it.”
“It wasn’t this way with Lucia,” you sighed lightly, “or Diego. I was fine with them - so happy.”
“Every pregnancy is different,” he reminded you, “every baby, and it’s different for you every time. The existence of one experience doesn’t negate the other. It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.”
He gently maneuvered you over to the couch, sitting down and pulling you into lap. You sniffled before resting your hand on his chest, letting him hold you, “I just want it to get better. I want to be…like before.”
“You will, baby,” he promised, “it will get better. You have me, you always have all of me, and whatever else you need. You just have to tell me what you need - even if you just need some quiet and need to tell me to fuck off. I’ll take it.”
“Javier,” you laughed in between your tears as he just held your hand in his, “thank you. I think…just having you around more will help. I think once we get into the real swing of having the twins it’ll feel better. Right now it just seems like a mountain to climb.”
“Together we’ll get through anything,” he whispered, “look how much we’ve already overcome.”
“Yeah,” you turned your head slightly to be able to kiss his jaw, “we really have.”
“And we’ll get this too,” he brought his hand to your lips and pressed a kiss to each finger, “you can tell me anything, whenever, never hold back.”
“I was also worried…don’t laugh-”
“Never.”
“I was also…my body,” your voice was so low he wasn’t sure you’d actually said anything, “it’s so different now. I kept thinking…what would have happened if you didn’t find me attractive anymore? What if I didn’t make you happy anymore? What if you left me? Would it be like when we separated for a few months? I don’t think I could ever survive that.”
“Listen,” he turned you so you were facing him head on, “you are just as beautiful now as the day we met. If not more so - I still fall in love with you every single day. Maybe your body doesn’t look the same - but mine doesn’t exactly either. I’ve definitely put on the dad weight.”
“You’re perfect-”
“And you are to me,” he cupped your face in hands, “sure your body’s changed but think about what it’s done. You’ve carried four children, you’ve given me more than I could ever ask for. Your body is amazing - you’re amazing. Strong, loving, smart, beautiful…I could go on forever. I’m never leaving Dulzura. The first time almost killed me. I can’t live without you. I am yours, in every way possible.”
“Me too,” you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes, “I don’t know what to say, Javi. Thank you for starters and I love you.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he kissed your forehead, followed by your cheeks and nose, finally stopping at your lips, “I am your partner in everything. But I do have a plan, if you’d like to hear it.”
“Of course.”
“This weekend is all about you,” he grinned, “you’re going to relax and let me take care of you. No kids, no one else, just you and me. On Monday, I’ll put in my official notice for the fall sabbatical and then we’ll find someone for you to talk to, if you still want that. How does that sound?”
“Please,” you almost cried as he grinned and nodded at you.
“Anything you want, baby,” he was stroking your back up soothingly, “but first, let’s eat. Then maybe we can take a nice hot bath and go from there.”
“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, “thank you, truly, Javier. This…just having you here has made me feel so much better. Like I can finally breathe again and it doesn’t feel so dark. You really are the light of my life, mi amor.”
“You haven’t called me that in a long time,” Javier’s heart constricted at the sweet sound of your voice. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed hearing you call him that.
“I haven’t felt like myself in a long time,” you sighed lightly, “but I know I’ll get there again. Thanks to you.”
“You’ve had me from day one and you’ll have me to the end. I love you, Dulzura.”
“I love you, Javier. Always, always, always.”
#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x fem!reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#agm
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There are soooo many things I hope the Lockwood and Co netflix adaptation keeps, but here’s one thing I hope they change:
I hope they substantially rework how Flo Bones is described and portrayed and how Lucy thinks of her in the narrative.
Now to make three things clear:
1) I love book Flo, she is the best
2) I am white and coming at this conversation from that perspective (and I may be putting too much thought into this in general)
3) I’m glad the show is casting more people of color since the source material is so white, and in fact, I kind of wish they’d also cast non-white actors for Lockwood and or Lucy (bc something about maintaining the two main characters’ whiteness while casting a man of color to play George, who is often the butt of the joke in Lucy’s narration, rubs me the wrong way).
However, book Flo is basically described as a little garbage teen living in a little garbage pile.
Lucy describes her as smelly, uneducated, and unclean. Literally all the time.
When George is injured and Flo visits, Lucy quite literally mentions she’s worried Flo will infect his wound.
These traits are natural consequences of Flo’s role as a relic-woman, her portrayed personality, her trauma, and of Jonathan Strouds quintessential British humor. But honestly, this trope is really only non-offensive because she’s white.
Like, if you make one of the few characters of color in Lockwood and Co an unhoused person with bad hygiene and constantly make that the butt of the joke… it just looks so bad. Like I can picture it and the racist undertones it would elicit are so strong.
Especially considering that (as far as I’m aware, and until we get Holly on screen) Flo is currently the only black woman cast in a reoccurring role on the show, a book accurate portrayal will not work.
[edit: my bad, Kat Godwin is also being played by a black woman!!!! (… but considering she, Kipps, and Bobby Vernon are portrayed as antagonists in the first few books, this soorrrt of falls into a similar situation)]
Anyway, I think Flo being Black and the general diversity of the cast is an excellent thing. But I am literally begging and pleading that her portrayal and characterization has been altered a bit for the screen.
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