#it’s so easy to tell my therapist when i’m lonely and struggling to make friends in my day to day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nicknellie · 4 years ago

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For months I’ve been saying I’d write a fic where Alex starts counselling because this fandom is in desperate need of good therapy representation, and I’ve finally got around to it! This follows Alex deciding he wants to get therapy, having his first assessment, and having his first session. Most of it is pulled from my experiences so far, but bare in mind that not all therapists/organisations will function the way this one does. Also I’m very tired and I didn’t proofread so I’m sorry for any errors, I’ll fix them at another point.

TW: anxiety, therapy, mentions of depression, mentions of homophobia, mentions of OCD

The Right Decision

It was another one of those days where Alex felt exhausted from the moment he woke up. Not exhausted in that he needed to sleep longer (although admittedly that was probably a part of it), just exhausted because here was another day he had to get through, another challenge he had to overcome, another stressful sixteen hours of endless worries and things to do. Sometimes Alex felt like there was no escape, no rest, no pause in his life. He had to keep going no matter how drained he felt.

It was exhausting.

Everything felt like too much nowadays. Between going to school and sitting exams, playing with the band, and keeping up with his friends, Alex felt as if he had no time to breathe. He couldn’t slow down for longer than a moment or two before along came the next thing and the next barrage of anxieties that accompanied it. He couldn’t catch his breath, he couldn’t keep up, and it was dragging him down.

What he couldn’t understand was how nobody else seemed to feel quite as worried as him. He had always been more anxious than his friends, that was nothing new – but when everyone he knew had mostly the same stresses as him, it struck him as impossible that none of them seemed too overwhelmed. Perhaps every now and then Luke would complain about an exam at school or Reggie would mention that he was having trouble sleeping, but none of Alex’s friends ever mentioned weak legs, trouble breathing, clouded thoughts, needless panic that stemmed from nowhere, the feeling that nothing they did was really worth much at all.

Recently, Alex’s days had been muddled, his mind occupied with each new worry that he thought up. He was finding it hard to focus on much at all. He’d find his leg bouncing whenever he sat down or his fingers scratching at his knees, little repetitive movements that he wouldn’t notice until somebody pointed them out. He struggled sleeping at night, his mind racing at the speed of light, every nonsensical thought keeping him awake like the world’s most pessimistic firework display. When he was around his friends, his mind snagged on what they thought about him – he began acting the way he thought they wanted him to rather than the way he normally would have.

It felt like he was constantly pretending to be coping better than he was. If he carried on the way he was, he knew sooner or later he would break.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said that morning, sat on the opposite side of the sofa to Willie. He had stayed the night at Willie’s place, vastly preferring it to his own – his strained relationship with his parents wasn’t exactly doing him a world of good either.

“About what?” Willie asked, kicking their feet up onto the sofa and resting them in Alex’s lap.

The question was strangely hard to answer. Where was he even supposed to begin answering it?

“About me,” he ventured slowly. It seemed like a good start, he just wasn’t sure how to carry on.

“I think about you a lot too,” Willie said, beaming. “It’s one of my favourite pastimes.”

Normally, Alex might have blushed, but he was so caught up in his own head that the flirtatious nature of Willie’s comment flew right over his head.

Willie sat up, looking concerned. He took Alex’s hand in his own, dragging Alex down from his addled thoughts. “What’s going on, hotdog? What have you been thinking?”

“I’ve not been finding things easy recently,” Alex began. He hadn’t expected tears to fill his eyes so soon, and yet there they were. His voice wavered, his words interspersed with sniffles. Frustrated, he sighed and wiped roughly at his eyes with his sleeve, annoyed that this was all getting to him so easily. “I… I can’t explain it.”

Willie reached up and gently pulled Alex’s tight fists away from his eyes and instead wiped Alex’s tears away softly with his thumb. “Take your time,” they said. “It’s alright. I’m listening.”

“I just… I feel so nervous. All the time. About every little thing. And it feels like it’s getting worse. I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

One of the things Alex loved most about Willie was that he was never pushy. He always let Alex talk as and when he needed to, getting everything off his chest the way he wanted, even if it took hours. They did it now, just holding Alex’s hand, their eyes fixed on him attentively. From someone else, the unbroken eye contact might have just unnerved Alex even more, but from Willie it felt reassuring. He knew he was being listened to and heard – he knew he was safe.

“I want to get help,” he breathed. “I don’t want to carry on the way I am. It scares me.”

“If you want to get help, then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” Willie told him, threading their fingers together. “And Alex – it might not feel like it, but you’re so brave for telling me that. It can’t have been easy, but I’m proud of you for telling me instead of just struggling through by yourself.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?” Alex asked apprehensively. Willie was always supportive of him, but it was such a drastic change from the way his parents treated him that sometimes he couldn’t help but check it was all real.

Willie smiled gently and cupped Alex’s cheek with his hand. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into the touch, so he couldn’t see Willie when they replied but he could hear the honestly in his voice. “I think it’ll be really helpful for you. And if it’s what you think you need then it’s worth trying no matter what.”

“Thank you,” Alex whispered, barely audible, throat clogged with suppressed sobs.

“Anything, Alex.”

The two of them spent hours researching different therapists and counsellors. Willie carried out extensive background checks on every one of them – at first Alex thought that maybe it was a bit much, but Willie was adamant that only the best would do, that he didn’t want anyone with a chequered past or a dodgy record.

Eventually they came across a charity that offered free counselling. The sessions would take place at the same time on the same day each week and they could go on for as long as Alex needed. He would be assigned the counsellor deemed most fit to treat him after completing an assessment, and the organisation appeared to have very good reviews and success rates.

“We don’t have to sign you up today,” Willie explained, “not if you think it’ll be too much too soon. But it’s worth keeping in mind that this place is probably a good one to go for.”

Alex thought for a moment before making his mind up. He knew himself – if he kept putting it off because he was nervous about it then he would never get around to doing it at all.

“Let’s do it now,” he said resolutely, trying to sound confident in the hopes that maybe he’d believe he wasn’t so nervous himself. “Get it out of the way. It’s now or never, right?”

Willie just kissed the top of his head and clicked the application button at the bottom of the webpage.

A week or so later, Alex received an email informing him of when his assessment would take place. It seemed like a very informal thing – someone from the charity would phone him, they’d have a casual chat where they would ask him about himself, and they’d offer him either a space on their waiting list or suggest somewhere else that might be able to help him better.

Despite how friendly and casual it all sounded, Alex couldn’t help but feel nervous. For one thing, he hated talking to strangers. He’d never been good at it and the whole idea made him feel sick with worry. Though, he supposed, that was why he was going through with this whole thing, to make that worry stop.

But the other issue was that it was a phone appointment. Inexplicably, one of the things guaranteed to cause Alex anxiety was phone calls. The thought of picking up the phone when somebody rang was enough to make his head spin and eyes water. Just the notion of it made him want to lock himself away in a lonely dark room and not come out until he felt he could breathe again. It was painfully ironic – he had to do the things that made him most anxious in order to get help with his anxiety.

When the time of the appointment came, Alex was sat on Willie’s bed by himself, staring at his phone, waiting for it to ring. Willie had kindly offered to be in the room with him, but Alex had declined. Even though Willie was the most supportive person in his life, having them in the room while he had his assessment would have made it a thousand times more difficult.

The phone rang and for a moment Alex considered just not picking up. Was it worth making himself even more worried over this? Maybe he could learn to cope with his anxiety alone instead of getting all worked up over receiving help. He’d managed just fine in the past.

But you’re not managing just fine right now, Alex, he reminded himself. Pick up the phone.

“Hello?” he said, forcing himself to keep his voice level.

“Hi,” came a voice on the other end. It was an airy, soft-spoken lady, and though Alex couldn’t see her he could imagine her sat in her office, surrounded by motivational posters and dreamcatchers, wearing far too many scarves. “My name is Elizabeth. I’m calling for your mental health assessment. I just need to confirm who I’m speaking to.”

“Alex Mercer,” he said, glad he could answer that first question right at the very least. And sure, maybe the other questions he would be asked didn’t have specific right or wrong answers, but he still felt as if he had something to prove with them. Here at least he knew what he was doing.

“And your age and date of birth please, Alex,” Elizabeth asked. He could hear the faint scratching of a pen on paper.

“I’m eighteen and my birthday is the first of August.”

A tiny voice in the back of his mind questioned him, but he pushed it away. He wasn’t going to overthink so quickly. He knew what his own birthday was.

“Great, thank you, Alex,” Elizabeth said. “So I’m just going to talk you through how this will work quickly, okay? I’ll try not to take too long with the whole assessment, I know sometimes talking on the phone or talking to strangers can be tricky. All that’s really going to happen is that we’ll have a little chat, I’ll ask you about your life and your mental health. Everything we say will be confidential, the only other person who’ll find out is the person we assign as your counsellor. All I need you to do is be as honest as possible when you answer the questions. Is that all okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex said. His throat felt tight with worry but he did his best to ignore it. Elizabeth sounded like a lovely lady and the whole point of this was that he would stop being anxious, or at least learn to manage it better. Maybe this bit was hard, but it would only get easier as time went on. “That’s alright.”

“Fantastic,” she said. “Okay, Alex, we’ll start with the most obvious question: why do you want to come to us for counselling?”

He told her what he had told Willie, just with fewer tears. He could feel them stinging the backs of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. His voice stayed level but only because he forced it too.

From then on, it seemed like fairly quickfire questions. Elizabeth didn’t linger on any one aspect of Alex’s life so long that it made Alex uncomfortable, as if she was just sizing him up rather than trying to properly inspect him.

“Who do you live with, Alex?”

“My parents and my little sister, but I don’t spend a lot of time at home.”

“Do you not get on with them?” she asked. Her tone made her sound curious rather than concerned and somehow that was a lot easier for Alex to respond to. She just wanted to know – she wasn’t worried about it.

“My little sister’s fine, but not my parents.”

“Where do you stay instead?”

“My boyfriend’s apartment.”

Pen scratching on paper again.

“How’s your relationship with your boyfriend?” Elizabeth asked.

It was one of the only questions Alex felt confident answering. “My relationship with Willie is the best thing in my life.”

He thought he could hear Elizabeth’s smile as she said, “I’m very glad to hear that, Alex.”

She asked him about his friendships and he told her that they were strong. When she asked who his best friend was he momentarily panicked because he didn’t know which of his friends to choose – they all meant the world to him in different ways – but settled on Carrie. He explained that he was in a band with most of his other friends and that it was one of the only things that made him feel relaxed.

Elizabeth asked about school and Alex told her about his exams, how the stress of them definitely wasn’t doing his mind any good. She asked about his grades and he told her that they were high but he worried about keeping them that way. She asked him if he was part of any clubs or teams and he said he was on the cross-country team but didn’t find much enjoyment in it anymore.

It was odd, he thought absently. As he spoke to Elizabeth, he not only found himself being open and honest with her but also with himself. Half the things he told her were things he hadn’t thought about until she brought them up, and realising that he worried about grades more than he’d thought and that he didn’t want to be on the running team was more of a surprise to him that it should have been. He noticed more and more things about himself as he went on, things he probably never would have realised otherwise, and it sparked a little flame of hope inside him that maybe this counselling was already being beneficial to him.

The assessment was over much more quickly than Alex had thought it would take. Elizabeth told him that she was happy to put him on the waiting list and that she would be in touch when a counsellor became available. After a friendly goodbye, Alex put the phone down and took a few minutes to collect himself before heading out into the living room of Willie’s apartment to tell him how well it had gone.

It was a month or two before Alex heard from the charity again. He got another email, this one telling him the time and location of his first appointment. He showed up on the day, Willie by his side, feeling the worst he’d felt in weeks.

“Hey,” Willie said gently as Alex just stared at the door, his stomach flipping at the thought of even pressing the intercom. “Just remember you’re doing this to help yourself. I believe in you, hotdog. You’ve got this.”

Alex pulled Willie into a brief hug, but disentangled himself quickly and pressed the intercom before his adrenaline disappeared and he had another chance to dwell on it.

“Hello,” came the voice of the receptionist inside. “How can I help?”

“My name is Alex Mercer, I’m here for my counselling session,” he said. He wasn’t sure how much of his sentence actually sounded like words, the entire thing having been rushed out on one breath, but the receptionist seemed to get it. The lock on the door clicked open.

“Come on in, you can sit in the waiting room and your counsellor will come and get you soon.”

Alex took a deep breath and pushed the door open, Willie following close behind him as the two of them walked into the building. The waiting room was on the left as soon as they walked in so they took their seats beside each other. There was hardly anyone else in there – the receptionist was sat behind the desk in the corner, there was a lady flicking through a magazine on the other side of the waiting room, and a young man was sat with a toddler, trying to keep the little boy still when clearly all he wanted to do was run around. The walls were covered in posters, most of them either with motivation quotes on them or symptoms of different mental health issues. Alex had to tear his eyes away from the anxiety one, his hands rubbing together in his lap restlessly.

They weren’t sat there for very long when a kind-looking man poked his head into the waiting room and scanned it. When his eyes landed on Alex and Willie, a small smile grew on his face.

“Alex Mercer?” he asked.

Alex stood up and wiped his sweaty hands down on his trousers. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Nice to meet you, Alex,” the man said. “I’m Graham, I’ll be your counsellor. Is this your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, this is Willie,” Alex said, gesturing vaguely in his direction.

“Hi,” they said, “great to meet you.”

“You too,” Graham said. “Alex, Willie can come in with you for a little bit if you think that would make you more comfortable, or he could stay here in the waiting room and it’ll just be you and I in there. Whatever you prefer.”

Alex cast a glance at Willie who just gave him a reassuring smile. Your call, their expression said, I’m here for you no matter what.

“I’d rather go in alone,” Alex decided.

Graham nodded, smiling genially. “That’s alright. If you’d like to follow me then.”

Sending one last look to Willie (who gave Alex a thumbs up and mouthed ‘you got this’), Alex followed Graham out of the waiting room, up a flight of stairs, and into a smaller room on the second floor. There was hardly anything in there but a desk with a laptop on it and two chairs positioned opposite each other, a coffee table between them with a lamp and a box of tissues on it. Graham sat down in one chair and gestured for Alex to sit in the other.

“Alright, Alex,” Graham said, donning his glasses and picking up a pen and paper. “How are you feeling about being here today?”

“I’m a little nervous,” Alex told him. “But you know… it’s something I’ve got to do, right?”

Graham nodded. “Looking at your assessment, I think you made the right decision in coming to us. I just want to briefly explain what will be happening in these sessions – I’m going to be doing CBT. Do you know what that is?”

Alex shook his head.

“CBT stands for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy,” Graham explained. “As people, we have thoughts. Those thoughts influence our mood, which then influences our behaviour, which influences our thoughts. It’s a cycle. When our thoughts or our behaviours turn negative, it can lead to mental health problems like yours. What CBT aims to do is change the thought processes and behaviours that lead to things like your anxiety. With me so far?”

Alex nodded.

“We aren’t going to start that today,” Graham said. Alex breathed a sigh of relief and Graham chuckled at it, but not in a way that made Alex feel like he was being made fun of. “Today we’re just going to get to know each other a bit, we’ll go over the information I’ve got from your assessment in a little more detail, and then I’ve got a questionnaire for you to fill out. Sound good?”

“Good,” Alex said. Well, he supposed, getting one word out was better than none at all.

Graham pulled out a few sheets of paper and the two of them spent the next half hour or so going over the assessment Elizabeth had conducted. It was a lot more detailed, a lot more personal, and Alex needed to think about himself a lot more than he would have liked, but it was made easier by Graham’s easy-going personality and the fact that Alex’s knew it was all necessary. He wasn’t being judged for any of it, he was just helping Graham help him.

It just felt like a chat with a friend. When they talked about Alex’s parents and he explained they weren’t supporting of his sexuality, Graham said, “When I told my folks that I’m bisexual they had a similar reaction. I understand it – you’re not alone, Alex.”

And as he said that, Alex really felt it was true. He was understood here. He wasn’t alone.

They talked about Alex’s trouble sleeping, how he worried about the little things rather than anything really important, how he was a picky eater, and every detail that seemed insignificant but clearly meant something to Graham. It felt a little invasive, but the environment was comfortable, so Alex didn’t really mind sharing. It was ridiculously easy to say everything on his mind and so much more freeing than keeping his emotions bottled up like normal.

“Alright then,” Graham said eventually. “All I’ve got left is this questionnaire. It’ll take you through forty-seven questions and all of the answers give you a choice between always, often, sometimes, or never. Sometimes it’s quite obvious what the question is getting at – there’s one about repetitive routines that’s obviously about OCD – but I want you to answer as honestly as possible, don’t even think about what it might do to your results. Alright?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, “that’s fine.”

Graham led Alex through the questionnaire, selecting the answers on his laptop. Alex tried to answer quickly, not giving himself time to overthink it, but a few of the simplest ones stumped him. He’d never thought about how much he thought about death, he’d never paid any mind to his specific behaviours. But still, he answered as best he could and the questions were over relatively quickly.

“Looking at your results,” Graham said, pushing his glasses further up his nose and squinting at the laptop screen, “you answered most highly for general anxiety – you got twenty-nine for that. Then social anxiety, you got twenty. Depression and low mood, you got sixteen. For panic disorder you got fourteen, eleven for OCD, and five for separation anxiety. Does any of that surprise you?”

“Not in the slightest,” Alex told him, laughing at himself a little. It was exactly what he would have expected from himself – he wasn’t quite sure what the numbers really meant, but having general anxiety at the top wasn’t a shock to him.

“So what we’ll do each week from now on is fill out a smaller one of those, but it will be more focused on general anxiety, only eight or nine questions long. And we’ll start your CBT next week so these little questionnaires will be very helpful to track your progress. But that’s it for this week! You’re done, Alex, you made it!”

Alex felt himself smile. He’d done it. It hadn’t been nearly as difficult as he had thought it would be – it felt like there had been a weight lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe easily. His mind briefly wandered back to how anxious he’d been to even press the intercom outside; now he felt the lightest he’d been in as long as he could remember.

He and Graham said their goodbyes and Alex made his way back down to the waiting room to see get Willie. When he saw the bright smile Alex wore, Willie’s face lit up and he beamed.

“How was that?” they asked, immediately slipping his hand into Alex’s.

“Really good,” Alex told them. Willie’s face softened – there was a definite look of pride in their eyes and Alex knew it was for him. “I’m glad I’m doing this.”

Standing up on his tiptoes, Willie pressed a featherlight kiss to Alex’s cheek. “I’m glad. I’m proud of you, hotdog.”

“I’m proud of me too,” Alex said. For the first time in a very long while, he actually meant it.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @boggie-brainrot @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @tmp-jatp @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright @sylphrenas @callmeontheleyline

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fluffy-lee-boa · 4 years ago

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Teaching Me How To Move On

(A SamBucky tickle fic :3)

@tickleebug requested some Sam and Bucky, so I went a little wild with it and made a short story to show how Bucky is adapting to his new life, and his new partner. Spoilers for Endgame/TFATWS btw!

“Buhucky! Cut it out!” Steve snorted, swatting at the younger’s arm as he lightly dug into his sides.

Before he’d taken the serum, it had been a well-known fact that Steve Rogers was probably one of the most ticklish guys in Brooklyn. Sure, he hated to admit it in public, and Bucky respected that, but when he and Bucky were hanging out at home? All bets were off.

So James Buchanan Barnes took every opportunity like this to tease the other about his sensitivity, sitting beside him and carefully scratching at all the spots he knew would make the other squeal. He never took it overboard, considering Steve’s fragile state, but he did tire the other out enough that he would be sure the smaller wouldn’t get revenge.

“Come on Stevie, there’s no way you’re gonna make the army if you can’t handle a little tickling,” he smirked at the other.

Steve gave an snort, slapping a hand to his face before shaking his head rapidly, “This is just tohorture!!”

“Mhm. And?” Bucky snickered as he trailed his hands up to Steve’s stomach, relishing in the deeper laughter that it gave him.

This certain brand of “torture” continued for a few minutes, interspersed with cruel teases and barely-masked flirting that the ever-oblivious Rogers seemed to let fly over his head. Though it was easy to tell Steve wasn’t trying very hard to escape the other’s grasp, especially considering how lightly Buck was holding him down in fear of injury. He could stop any time he wanted, really.

Bucky finally let up once the wheezing started, almost immediately leaving the room only to reappear with a cup of water. He couldn’t help the smug grin on his face as the other struggled to hide his deep blush. The moment was perfect.

Too perfect.

He would wait another day to tell him about his draft card. He didn’t want to ruin what they had just yet.

Years.

Years had gone by since that day- decades, even. He had gone for most of that time without Steve, without those affectionate touches and softness, and without love. He’d gone for even longer now that Steve was....

No, he didn’t like to think about the past few months. About how the very man he’d grown up with, who’d told him he’d be with him to the end of the line, got off early. -He couldn’t be angry with him, though. It was his life, after all. His choice. Steve would probably be better off with Peggy, anyways.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell, and that he was absolutely starved for affection with no one in the world to fix it for him.

Well... almost no one.

Admittedly, he’d grown closer to Sam in the time since the new Cap was gifted the shield. Despite his reservations, and the rocky start to their partnership, they’d come to an understanding. Especially after all they’d been through in their mission to stop Karli, and then Walker thereafter.

And there was the boat, of course. Bucky hadn’t even known Sam had a boat before this week- never even been near one besides during war times. Yet he found himself spending hours and even days of his time on helping him fix it. Then the days after that teaching the new Captain to toss the shield.

Was this what having a friend was like?

He couldn’t tell. I mean, after Steve, nothing was going to feel just right. ...Or so he thought.

See, even if Bucky had tried to deny it, Sam felt safe. He felt like Steve did. They shared that same big heart Bucky had always admired, and honestly, the shield couldn’t have found a better wielder. But on the other hand, Sam was also more honest, and more direct. That was something he needed after all those years of manipulation and self-pity. Not exactly tough love, but the truth. A kinder, softer truth.

“Hey! Buck!” Sam had called from the other side of the open field, between a few lone trees that were wrapped in foam.

Bucky looked up, torn from his deep thoughts about friendship and Captains and shields. He didn’t give away any of it through his glance, much better at hiding behind an emotionless mask these days.

“Are you gonna throw it back or what? -The shield, I mean.” the figure laughed.

James rolled his eyes and walked over, trying to play it off, “Your stance is off. You’re gonna get someone killed if you don’t have enough balance.”

“Balance my ass,” Sam scoffed jokingly as he took the shield back from the other, looking him over suspiciously, “...You’re just deflecting again. You’ve been spacing out like crazy today... did something happen?”

Ah, there was that signature therapist-like concern that Wilson managed to worm into every conversation. It made Bucky’s heart beat faster and his stomach flip and he hated it. No one had been this worried about him since he came back from the icy abyss of HYDRA’s control. No one else had checked up on him so consistently for no other gain than his continued wellbeing.

“I’m fine.” He shot back despite himself, half of a glare on his face as he turned away to go back to his spot.

Sam rolled his eyes at the other’s dramatics, at this point being readily used to the cold demeanor Bucky used to push aside his own feelings. But he wasn’t ready to let it slide this time around. So he stepped towards him after setting aside the vibranium shield, reaching out to stop him from walking away again.

Quite a few things happened after that, one after the other.

For one, Sam had underestimated how quickly Bucky could power-walk away from him, and ended up grazing his side with a small grabbing motion rather than taking him by the wrist.

From there, Bucky had faltered in his pace with a quick giggle, before looking back at the other with a somewhat horrified expression. Oh no.

It was painfully obvious to Sam now, by Buck’s initial reaction and the way he seemed just about ready to jump out of his skin.

“There is no way in hell....”

“Sam, you don’t want to do this-”

“You’re ticklish?!”

Bucky cringed, almost immediately blushing just as Steve had whenever he’d done the same to him back in Brooklyn. Karma may have been delayed for almost a century, but it sure did come back to bite him. Figures as much, right?

Bucky had started walking backwards away from the now-very-menacing falcon, though with the woods around them, his ankle caught on a rock and sent him flying back onto his butt. Figures even more.

Before he could up and scramble away, probably going to rush to Sarah and beg for protection, Sam had pounced. The super soldier found himself being straddled, which didn’t help his confusing feelings from before at all. He hands ended up under Sam’s knees, and even if he knew he could probably escape, he was concerned he’d end up hurting the other if he lost control of his own strength.

“Sam! Get off!” He said in a shockingly squeaky shout, obviously flustered.

“Nu-uh. I need to see this for myself.” Sam snickered, making the other look away as his blush deepened.

“You su-AHAHUCK-“

Before Bucky could articulate what would have totally been a coherent and witty response, Sam had taken the initiative and dug straight into the dip of his sides. There was an explosion of sunny and bubbly laughter that didn’t suit the awkward Soldier at all, making Sam beam down at the other.

Bucky internally cursed as he looked up and caught glimpse of the smile. He was too perfect- it was unfair!

Sam chuckled as he lightened up, tracing circles around his hips and making Bucky jerk back and forth with a few left over giggles, “Wowwww... It’s worse than I thought.”

“Shut the hell uhuhup...” Bucky muttered in embarrassment, making Wilson roll his eyes.

Sam knew he could definitely find a worse spot, and ignoring Bucky’s continued insults and thinly-veiled threats, he scanned the other’s upper body as thought to himself.

His metal arm probably couldn’t feel anything, right? But what about the spot just where the two met...?

Bucky noticed where his partner’s gaze had fallen, suddenly looking alarmed as he turned to begging, “Hey, wait, hold on, that’s a bad idea, Wilson. -Agh- Please? Is that what you want? Fine! I’m saying please-“

Sam just shook his head with that stupid, handsome smirk on his face, “Saying please isn’t gonna save you this time around. Tell me what’s wrong.... and I won’t absolutely wreck you. And trust me, I have an older sister. I know exactly how to do it.”

Bucky went quite besides his quick breathes and squirmy giggles, looking off to the side as he tried to consider his options despite the continued teasing of his sides and hips. But no- he couldn’t say what was really on his mind. Stubborn is as stubborn does.

“Do your worst.”

There was only a moment of reprieve as Wilson took in the other’s bratty reply, before he wiggled his fingers into that horrible dip between Buck’s metal arm and his ribs, right in the hollow. His other hand went to the rest of his rib cage just as quickly, alternating between both sides and dipping in between the spaces for added torture.

Bucky was pretty much lost in a handful of seconds.

He cackled, kicking his legs and pulling at his arms with only a shred of resistance from the last part of him that was conscious, which was still bent on making sure he didn’t hurt Sam.

But, that part of him could only hold out for so long, and when Sam found an extra sensitive spot between his ribs, Bucky ended up arching so suddenly that Sam was sent a good five feet away by his super strength.

Whoops.

There was a long pause as the air around them stilled once more, Sam laying feet away and laughing hysterically at his friend’s reaction while Bucky himself calmed himself down to a frenzy of frantic giggling.

After he was able to regain control of himself, he sat up to look over at Sam, his arms wrapped around his own torso protectively so the falcon could no longer access his weak spot. His voice was hoarse as he asked sheepishly, “...Are you ok?”

Sam’s own laughter died down, and he waved his hand dismissively, “Fine, fine. I shoulda expected it. You’re a hyper-ticklish super soldier. I’m just lucky you didn’t break my arm.“

Bucky didn’t find much humor in that joke, but he got up and made his way over to the other anyway. He held out his hand to help him stand beside him, and Wilson smiled softly at the other’s still reddened face, “Maybe we should do that more often. You’re cute when you’re blushing like that.”

And he walked away.

Bucky, for better or worse, didn’t have the same luxury that his old partner did of obliviousness to such direct declarations of affection, so he simply stood in shock as he was left in the small field of grass.

...Maybe, just maybe, his new life wasn’t as empty and lonely as he’d previously thought. Maybe Sam... could be what he really needed, as a partner, and as a friend.

Or.... maybe something more.

Lots of maybes today. But then again, when is anything ever certain?

#lee!bucky #ler!sam #marvel tickle fic #tickle fic #mcu tickle #marvel tickling

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thisissirius · 4 years ago

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because 4x01 happened and i had feelings about it. the therapy stuff is taken directly from my own counselling sessions. i might not have gone through a tsunami and a truck bombing, but i’ve seen some shit lol. ANYWAY. i hope y’all like this.

for @capseycartwright who always deserves the best buck content and quality sassy eddie <3

need help (but can you help me? [ao3 link] buck, buck/eddie, hurt/comfort, therapy

Eddie leaned against the doorjamb to his bathroom, arms folded across his chest. “I hear you’re cheating on me with a Covid crush?”

Buck snorted. “You’ve been talking to Chim.”

“More like had to listen to him,” Eddie corrected. He met Buck’s eyes through the mirror.

“You know I would never—”

“I know, Buck,” Eddie said quickly. He straightened up, came to stand next to Buck at the basin. Buck looked to the left, lips quirking up. Before he could say anything, Eddie leaned in, resting his head on Buck’s shoulder, their eyes meeting in the mirror again. “I trust you.”

Fingers curling around the edge of the basin, Buck sighed. “I should just tell them.”

Eddie kissed Buck’s neck. “You don’t owe anybody anything.”

Silence lapsed between them.

“When you’re ready to tell people, you will,” Eddie said, sliding a hand up Buck’s back, scratching through his hair and then pulled back. “Breakfast in half an hour. Chris is already up.”

“Fuck you,” Buck said with a laugh.

Eddie blew him a kiss and tapped the doorframe on his way out.

_________

Buck wasn’t keeping it a secret deliberately.

Quarantine was difficult. It wasn’t as bad for him as it was for a lot of people given that he was still able to work, but he hadn’t been alone since the quarantine had started. It had started to get too much for him to handle around the second month.

“I used to think I was lonely,” he said, leaning on his desk.

Lisa nodded, sitting back in her chair. “And now?”

“I havent been for a while,” he said. “But not because of quarantine. That’s just made me realize I love my workmates but living with them has been difficult.”

“You’re ready for them to go home.”

Buck huffed a short laugh. “Yeah, I am. Well. I’m sad Eddie’s gone, but I know why he had to.”

Lisa’s face remained impassive. It was one of the reasons Buck liked her. “Do you miss him?”

Missed was an understatement. Though Hen and Eddie had gone home and Buck had been glad to have his apartment mostly to himself, that didn’t stop him missing Eddie like a phantom limb. It had been difficult without Chris around, moreso for Eddie, but Buck had missed him too. That would change now, as long as they were careful and took precautions, and Buck wanted to go back to having Eddie and Chris to himself—without Chm around. “I just wish Chim would leave.”

“Hmm,” Lisa said.

“Not because I’m sick of him,” Buck said. “It’s just hard when he’s here. I feel like I can’t be myself.”

Lisa stared at him. “You can with Eddie?”

“Yeah,” Buck said. “I can.”

“Then start with that,” Lisa said. “Keeping it a secret is taxing on you, and I can imagine on Eddie, but if the two of you have decided it works for you, then only you get to decide when you tell your friends and family.”

“I know.” Buck blew out a slow breath. “Thanks, Lisa.”

“It’s what I’m here for, Buck,” she said with a smile. “However, that’s the end of the session and I have to go. If you need anything, text me, alright?”

Buck nodded, thumb hovering over the mousepad. “I will. Thanks again.”

The sign off was always awkward over Zoom, but Buck hadn’t dealt well with face to face sessions. When he closed his laptop, he sat back in his chair, hearing Maddie’s laugh through the speakers of Chim’s laptop. Great. Rolling his eyes, Buck cast a quick eye at the clock. Not long and they had to be at work.

_________

“Well,” Eddie said. “At least it’s not a tsunami.”

Buck gave him a look. “Are you kidding me?”

Eddie was smiling, the dick, and Buck elbowed him. “Ow,” he said through a laugh. Sobering quickly, he reached out, squeezed Buck’s arm as best he was able in their gear. “It’ll be alright.”

“I can’t do it again, Eddie.”

Eddie turned. “Buck, look at me.”

Buck winced but did as asked. They didn’t have long before they’d be on the roof.

“I’ve got you, hear me? No matter what, you’re not on your own this time.”

I wasn’t before, Buck didn’t say. “Okay.”

“You hearing me?”

“Yes, Eddie, I got you.”

Eddie smirked. “Don’t sass me, Buckley.”

“I’ll do whatever Ilike,” Buck said mulishly, but he couldn’t stop the smile from forming. “Thanks, Eddie.”

“Anytime,” Eddie said, dropping his voice. “Now let’s get this done, alright?”

_____________________

Buck massaged his temples. “It was a disaster. Literally.”

“It was,” Lisa agreed.

“With everything that went on, it reminded me of the tsunami.”

Lisa nodded sympathetically. “That must have been difficult.”

It took Buck a minute to find his voice. “I had a job to do this time as well and I didn’t have Chris to look out for.” When he realised Lisa looked ready to speak, Buck powered on. “Not that I resented looking out for Chris. I know—you know how I feel about that and that I’ll probably always regret it, but I had Eddie this time. I had—a job and someone to help me.”

“Okay,” Lisa said. It wasn’t a dismissal, and Buck nodded. “I know how much trust you have in Eddie, Buck. I just wonder how much you have in yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve talked about the truck bombing, the tsunami. We’ve talked about the blood clots and the lawsuit,” and Buck winces at the reminder, “and throughout all of that you mention everything you’ve done wrong.”

Buck frowned. “Yeah?”

“What about the things you did right?”

There was a long silence.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I want you to do something for me, okay?”

Buck waited for her to finish, not knowing how to answer.

“Before you next call me, I want you to write down five things you’ve done right in the time you’ve been working. I would prefer it to be related to those incidents we discussed, but I will take other things as well.”

“I—” Buck started.

“If you can’t, it’s okay. I just want you to try.”

“Okay,” Buck said eventually. “I’ll try.”

_____________________

Maddie narrowed her eyes. “So when do I get hear about it?”

“Never,” Buck said, not having to ask what she meant. “It’s private, Mads.”

“Even from me?” Maddie sounded hurt. Buck hated himself just a little but he was taking to heart the things Lisa told him; he and Eddie were the only ones with the right to tell people that they were in a relationship, nobody else could decide for them.

Reaching out, he touched the screen, wishing he could hold her hand. “It’s not what you think, I promise you that. When I’m ready to tell you, I will.”

There was a long pause, but Maddie shut off the call and she didn’t look annoyed. “Okay. I am here if you need me.”

“I know,” Buck said. He missed his sister terribly, but was determined to make Chim leave before he met her himself. . “I wish I could convince Chim to come home.”

Maddie’s face shifted. She looked sad and Buck wished he could change that too. “I’m just as scared as he is. I shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

“Want me to kick his ass?”

Shaking her head, Maddie at least let out a little laugh, so Buck counted it as a win. “No.”

“Maybe this,” Buck said, waving a hand behind him to encompass everything that had happened. “Will shake him up. He hasn’t come home yet.”

“He hasn’t?” Maddie frowned. “Didn’t he finish work with you?”

“I think Hen took him out,” Buck said. “Maybe she’s doing the yelling for you.”

There was the trace of a smile on her face. “I just want him want this as much as I do.”

“Hey,”Buck said, leaning forward. “If there’s one thing I do know about Chim right now, it’s that he’s desperate to be a dad with you, Mads. He’s been going through all my parenting books while we’ve been in lockdown.”

Maddie paused. “Why do you have parenting books?”

“For Chris,” Buck said, rolling his eyes. “Stop it. They were so i could help Eddie.”

“Oh,” Maddie said, and there was the sister he knew and loved so much. “If it’s for Eddie.”

“I’m going now,” Buck said, waving a hand. “Go do whatever it is you and Albert do.”

Maddie laughed and cut off the call.

___________________

“It’s my therapist,” Buck said.

Eddie looked up from cooking dinner. “What?”

“The person I’m calling.”

Eddie didn’t say anything for a long time. Buck worried it was because he was mad, but realised he was just turning off the burner. “Come here.”

Buck went, standing awkwardly next to Eddie, until Eddie reached up, wrapping his arms around Buck’s shoulders. Like a string had been cut, Buck fell against him, sorry when Eddie had to adjust his stance or send them toppling. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Eddie assured him, ghosting a kiss across his head. “I’m proud of you.”

“For seeing a therapist?” Buck scoffed.

Eddie pulled back, touching a hand to Buck’s face. “For telling me. I know it’s not an easy thing to do.”

Buck’s breathing was shaky, he could hear it, and he wanted to look anywhere but at Eddie’s face, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “I wanted to make everything less messed up.”

“You’re not messed up,” Eddie snapped, then sighed. “I’m sorry. You might feel that way, but I don’t see messed up.”

“What do you see?”

“I see the man I love hurting and struggling.”

The words came out so easily that Buck was almost physically struck by them. “Eddie.”

“I love you,” Eddie said quietly. Buck knew what a gift it was to be loved by someone like Eddie. “I’m behind you no matter what.”

“I know,” Buck said, just as quiet. “I love you too. I just needed—quarantine got to me and I know it did to you—”

“You’re allowed to feel things too. It’s not a competition.”

Buck shrugged. “I know you had Chris.”

“And you had Maddie and me.”

“You were there.”

Eddie nodded, but made a face. “Not in the way we both wanted. It killed me not to be able to touch you or hold you in the way I’m used to.”

“Same.” Buck leaned in, pressed a soft kiss to Eddie’s mouth. “We’re together now.”

“Yeah, we are,” Eddie said, the smile on his face as brilliant as Buck felt. “Come on. Dinner’ll be ready soon and then you can challenge Chris to a lego battle.”

Buck snorted. “I’ll lose. I always do.”

“The joy of being a father,” Eddie said.

Again, Buck was struck by the words, and thought of Maddie. “I am, huh?”

Turning back to the stove, Eddie looked over his shoulder. “You will be.”

It sounded like a hell of a promise.

The next time Buck spoke to Lisa, he was sure he would have those five things she wanted. But if he didn’t, he could talk about Eddie. About Chris, his family, the future. He had something to look forward to and that made everything look brighter.

#buddie fic #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #fic by me #otp: i forgive you #911 spoilers

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jebazzled · 4 years ago

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They can’t ALL be serial killers: keeping your villains funky fresh

Ah, villains. Spicy assholes. Tricky buggers.

Villains can be very intimidating to write: writing requires you to put yourself in the shoes of another person, which is one thing to do with a decent person. But when you are putting yourselves in the shoes of a bad one - whether it be someone who is simply not very likeable or someone who functions in an antagonistic capacity to a story or rp universe’s hero - well, it can be uncomfortable.

I didn’t start writing villains until well into my rp career, and I can’t think of a single character I wrote in my undergraduate creative writing degree who was an asshole. I now write a small handful of them - and like most things, I don’t think writing a villain is quite as scary as we sometimes build it up to be in our minds!

That said, writing a villain is an exercise in nuance, and this is something that is often missing from antagonistic characters. In this tutorial, we’ll talk about what makes a villain, and what makes a villain a well-rounded character.

Triggers, mentioned largely in passing as examples: criminal activity, murder, assault, child abuse, car accident, drunk driving, animal abuse

What makes a villain?

Generally, when we talk about villains, it’s in the context of a narrative, some sort of overall plot theme where there is Good and there is Evil. Think: Death Eaters, the Dark Side, the Horde, the Daleks, the Orcs, etc, etc etc. For the purposes of this tutorial, I’m talking about characters who serve in that antagonistic role, but everything can also be applied to characters who are just shitty people without a part to play in any larger scheme.

In a plot context, per Oxford Languages, a villain is “a character whose evil actions or motives are important to the plot.” To be important to the plot, you do have to post, and if that’s something you’re struggling with, you might want to check out my Writer’s Block TED Talk ;)

A villain can have any number of reasons for being Like That: perhaps they were raised with a particular worldview, or were targeted by a negative influence at an impressionable and vulnerable stage, or genuinely believe they are doing the right and good thing. Maybe they’re just an asshole. In-character, your character likely doesn’t identify as a villain (because everyone is the hero of their own story) and in-character, your character might have friends, allies, and others with varying knowledge of your character’s misdeeds.

However, out-of-character, you and other writers should recognize that your character is a shitty person. Writing one-dimensional, universally terrible assholes isn’t much fun, though. Which is where nuance comes in.

Give your character other traits than “evil.”

Unless your character is THE Big Bad - the Voldemort, the Sauron, the Hordak Prime - there is no reason for them to be Ultimate Evil, and writing them as an endless wash of evil will be boring for you to write and boring for other people to read. Your character should be something other than naughty.

Using my own handful of villains/bad guys as examples, since obviously I take my own advice, and with apologies that 99% of my rp writing is in the HP verse:

Claude is a Death Eater as well as second-in-command of the magical mafia. He’s an expert blackmailer, has no qualms with murder, and can get pretty gruesome about it if he’s pressed to make a point. He also doesn’t drink, is a devoted father (has framed finger paintings in his study! drinks the pink lemonade his daughters love in crystal rocks glasses!), uses weird slang (”beat it, bozo!”) and takes the family spaniel on daily walks through Kensington Gardens.

Cleo is a Death Eater and a lifelong bully, prone to theft, physical abuse, and with a knack for the Cruciatus Curse. She’s also deeply insecure, with an unshakeable need to be seen as useful; she’s competitive, and she’s horny enough to drop her purist pretense if a Muggle girl is what’s easiest to get her rocks off.

Sadie is a squib spying on Order-organized safehouses for the Death Eaters. She’s also intensely curious and ambitious, determined and self-directed, and if she doesn’t understand emotions, it certainly doesn’t stop her from understanding how to manipulate them to maintain the illusion that she is not a threat.

All three of these character concepts are more compelling than:

Veronica is rude, hates people, is outwardly mean to everyone she meets, uses cultural slurs on the regular.

We get it! Veronica is a shitty person! What else is she? In real life, shitty people typically do find camaraderie somewhere, somehow. Maybe Richie is a total asshole but has made a lot of money from his hedge fund, and he is generous enough with his yacht, ski condo, and jet that he has an entourage he thinks are genuinely his friends. Maybe Kaiytlynn is selfish and entitled, but her access to the entire royal family of Spain keeps her gainfully employed, and she’s genuinely good with her bedazzled bra business. Maybe Claudia is a giant racist, and she’s also YouTube’s most popular craft video creator.

In real life, maybe there are some shitty people who exhibit fully antisocial behaviors and are rewarded for it. But this is fiction writing, and moreover, it is collaborative fiction writing, and Veronica is not a character who is fun or enjoyable to plot with. Antagonistic plots can have more trouble finding their footing than strictly romantic ones - but they can be fun and rewarding, provided that the antagonist is a compelling one.

Let your character be something other than “evil.”

Give your character a cover.

More specifically than a trait other than “evil,” give your character a cover. By this I mean: give your character an angle that obscures their true colors, something that lures people - good people and bad people - into a sense of safety.

Give your character something that keeps other characters from taking one quick look at yours and immediately clocking them as a bad guy.

In real life, it often takes time to realize toxic people are toxic. In real life, people enjoy circumstances that make people less likely to view them as toxic - just look at the number of people who think Jeff Bezos’s obscene wealth is a marker of his merit as a human being.

If your character commits a murder a week, is actively abusive to everyone they meet, and has no relationships with any other characters who might vouch for them - idk, man, I think your character is going to get caught! If your character is a quiet and unobtrusive owner of a vintage boutique, however? Well, they certainly don’t scream “IT’S ME! I’M BAD TO THE MOTHERFUCKING BONE!”

In the case of my bad guys:

Claude is a doting husband and father, notably not ascribing to purist tendencies that discourage women from work outside the home. He does legitimate work in real estate and investments, in addition to his shady dealings, to have a legally-sound paper trail should he ever be investigated. His family money funds an entire wing at St. Mungo’s Hospital, and he contributes to political campaigns for centrist politicians. He presents as a harmless goofball. He killed a man well before he turned seventeen. He almost went to Azkaban before graduating from Hogwarts. (”Oh, but he’s on the straight and narrow now!”)

Claude’s cover is that he masquerades as a genuinely good person, and a nice person. When people think about his old-money Sacred 28 family and what that might mean for Claude’s political activity, they also think about how he is a Gryffindor - not known for churning out Death Eaters - and they think about how he doesn’t seem intense enough to be a Death Eater. They don’t suspect enough to have much to go on.

Cleo works as an Auror, and she’s genuinely good at her job - if only because she manipulates cases away from incriminating Death Eaters and their allies and occasionally Imperiuses a contact or two from her days as a Knockturn Alley bouncer to frame them for a crime. She doesn’t use slurs like “mudblood” at the office and doesn’t talk about blood status there, either. She doesn’t pretend to be nice, and her honesty there makes it easier to believe she’s not pretending when she does her job. It helps, too, that she is not Marked.

Cleo’s cover is that while she seems like an asshole and is an asshole, she works in the agency tasked with eliminating Dark wizards and she’s good at her job, as far as anyone can tell. She is an asshole, but there isn’t reason to suspect she is an asshole who is part of the Death Eaters, and it is not illegal to be a dick.

Sadie goes out of her way to be friendly to every new safehouse occupant, acting as a guide to newbies about how to live in the shadows. She performs the role of caretaker, therapist, and confidant, carefully doling out the reveal that she is a squib for sympathetic effect.

Sadie’s cover is that she manipulates other people into viewing her as too weak to be any kind of threat, and she intentionally manipulates people into relying on her for support and guidance.

If your character is not experiencing social repercussions for being an asshole, they need to have a cover. If they are being an outright asshole, this should negatively impact them somehow.

An outright asshole might be stuck in a dead-end job because no one wants to promote someone who’s not a team player. An outright asshole might be super lonely without the self-awareness to realize that their garbage personality is the reason for their romantic troubles. An outright asshole might not be able to talk their way out of a problem.

If your character is an outright asshole and experience no repercussions whatsoever, they’re probably a bit OP.

Give your character a motive.

Now the big question: why is your character Like That? Like, for real. It’s so easy not to be a dick. Why are they a dick? What’s in it for them?

Yes, some characters might be an asshole because they think it’s fun and they like to watch other people suffer. But if all your characters are like that - isn’t that kind of boring?

If all your characters are like that - are you actually writing distinct, well-developed characters, or are you just spitting out the same edgelord with different faces?

Some of your character’s reason for being a dick can be because they think it’s fun. It can’t be the entire reason. It especially can’t be the entire reason all the time.

Of course you can come up with a big tragic reason why a character is an asshole - but it truly doesn’t have to be that deep. (Tips on tragic backstories here.)

Of my baddies:

Claude is a purist because someone has to be a lesser class, and it’s sure as shit not going to be him! Claude is a Death Eater because his father saw a business opportunity - both direct work (e.g. the DE contracting Claude and his goons out for a hit, trafficking dark goods, doing deals with purist groups in other magical organized crime outfits across Europe) and indirect work (e.g. having stronger appeal to some of the most influential wizarding families.) He doesn’t love being branded with the Dark Mark (HE is the master of his fate, goddammit!) but hey, it’s a living.

This is a motive centered around financial gain and expediency. Claude is shitty to value money over human life, and he has no qualms about violence - but the motive is not “fun.”

Cleo is a Death Eater because, as a girl from a pureblood family of no importance, she recognizes that many of the people in the Death Eaters are important and influential, and she wants that kind of power. Additionally, she does get a kick out of violence, but she’s a weapon more than she is a fighter: she’s a tool who needs someone to wield her, to give instructions, to give her purpose. The Death Eaters offer both.

This is a motive centered around status and around order - Cleo being a person who needs order externally forced upon her.

Sadie is working for the Death Eaters because she believes they will win the First Wizarding War, and she wants to secure a place in their new order - ideally something more than she had previously as a squib. She figures if the good guys are really good they’ll forgive her for keeping herself alive - but that the bad guys won’t forgive disloyalty. Also, her boss in the Death Eaters indulges her research in the Dark Arts, which is fun.

This is a motive centered around security and self-satisfaction. It’s very selfish and cold, but it’s not, like, Sid from Toy Story.

Why is your character Like That? What do they get out of Being Bad? What do they like about it? What purpose does it serve for them?

If you can’t think of a reason your character would be a Bad Guy beyond that you want to write a Bad Guy, you should probably rework the character. It’s tricky to write someone who really should just be a Good Guy as a Bad Guy because, depending on your site’s setting, you might end up being a Bad Guy Apologist, leaning into the positive qualities of your character without writing them as an actual villain/antagonist/baddie - and remember, Death Eaters are shitty people! Antagonists antagonize! They should be complex, but you should never lose sight of an abusive class being abusive!

And finally,

They can’t all be serial killers.

It’s tempting, since we’re writing fiction here and we all love drama, to reach straight for a Big Evil when we’re writing a baddie. They murdered ___! Egads!

If all of your baddies murdered their spouse/parent/sibling, again I ask you: are you actually writing distinct, well-developed characters, or are you just spitting out the same edgelord with different faces?

(If all your baddies specifically murdered a woman, might I ask you to examine this choice? Misogynistic violence is not a shortcut to character development.)

Cast of characters aside - what is it your character does that makes them evil? It is worth noting that bad behavior exists on a spectrum, and to jump to the far end of that spectrum without building the character up to it is often jarring and confusing. There are many, many things your character can do that might contribute to their Bad IdentityTM without killing anyone!

Baby Bads: No one gets hurt in a serious way, but the character is unpleasant. Think: a schoolteacher might not let you go to recess. You might get detention. Examples:

petty theft

general assholery

bullying

lying, small & large scale

general unkindness

minor manipulation for personal gain

Middling Misdeeds: These might cause some harm - physically, emotionally, or otherwise - but there’s some room for smart-talking or otherwise evading major consequences. Think: suspension. Examples:

larger theft and other money-related naughties: money laundering, ponzi schemes, etc

physical assault/battery

blackmail

bribery

large-scale manipulation for personal gain or for fun

hate speech (to be clear, I, JB, think this is way more than middling, but in art as in life, a lot of characters are going to do it and get away with it.)

Terrible Transgressions: The far end of the spectrum of antagonistic behavior. If your character is doing this shit, it shouldn’t be coming out of the blue. If your character is doing this shit, there’s got to be a character-driven reason beyond “flavor.” These are things that would get you expelled and moved into criminal court. A lot of things that are viewed as standard topics requiring a trigger warning fit into this category.

murder

sexual assault

torture

child abuse

It’s easy in rp, where there are often way more criminal types in a character population than we hope exist IRL, to forget that murder is.... like.... it’s a BIG DEAL. It’s not something everyone has done. And thank dog, right?

If you’re attached to your character being someone’s cause of death, for specific character-driven reasons, you might think about alternatives. For example, if you hope to convey that Brandon Baddie is a callous asshole, instead of having him kill his roommate over a household chores dispute, you might have him drive drunk, hit a pedestrian, get out of the car, see the body, and drive away. If you hope to convey that Sandy Sadist is cruel, you might have her threaten her sister’s dog, but not actually hurt it, enjoying the fear of the sister and of the dog more than she would enjoy actually hurting either. If you hope to communicate that Ruthie Reckless is thoughtless, you might have her driving 100 mph speeding to the edge of a cliff while her father sobs in the passenger seat, stopping just inches from the edge.

There are so many ways to make a point. If you’re going to kill someone to make a point, do it sparingly, and with very deliberate purpose.

Whether you’re starting your first villain or hoping to hone your villainous sword, I hope you found this tut helpful! Best of luck, and happy writing!

#rp guides #resources #rp writing #writing resources #applications #character development

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athenasbloodyspear · 4 years ago

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Say Something to Stop Me: Chapter 3

Writing Master List | Say Something to Stop Me Master List

Please note: This fic describes depression, anxiety, panic attacks, past/referenced non con and domestic violence. Please read at your own discretion.

The next month at the compound passed much better than the last. You started training with everyone in the gym again and actually paid attention to your exercise routine.

Bucky had come to find you one morning in your room, a few days after the Peter incident, and had reiterated to you that he didn’t want to push you to talk about anything, but that he was there for you if you needed him. You had thanked him, blushing all the way up to your hairline when you thought about how you had clung to him and sobbed into his chest. He had just tucked his fingers under your chin to make you look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m glad I could be there for you when you needed me.” You didn’t have any words, so you had just nodded. Then you’d both gone down to the gym for a long morning of training. The place on your chin where his fingers had gently held had tingled all morning.

Tony sent you out on a couple of really easy missions to scope out a few buildings. It was just you wandering the busy streets of a few towns in Russia. Even though it was devastatingly cold, it felt good to be out and working again. Your head felt clear, you had a purpose and something to focus on.

The two appointments you had with the therapist so far seemed… fine. The first was very formal and slightly uncomfortable. You were a person who had to keep their cards close to their chest their whole life, and spent a good portion of time only telling the smallest amount of the truth you could get away with. You were constantly juggling secrets, so spending an hour just talking about yourself was not something that came naturally.

The second appointment was a little better. You didn’t know if you’d ever feel comfortable actually talking about what happened to someone you didn’t know, but you had opened up a bit about feeling lost, like the world is duller lately and she seemed to think that was something that lots of people struggled with. It was enough to lift a little bit of weight off your heart.

You finally finished all of the Fast and the Furious movies with Peter and had started spending the evenings in the common area eating dinner and sharing drinks with everyone. You were still more quiet than usual, but you supplied the occasional joke (usually at Sam or Bucky’s expense) and generally just started to enjoy yourself a bit more.

One evening, just about a month after your panic attack, you were all settling down for a movie in the common space. Everyone was going to watch the Lord of the Rings series together after Tony and Sam had been appalled to discover that no one (not even Peter) had seen any of them.

You were tucked on the couch between Bucky and Peter with a movie theater size bin of popcorn on your lap. Between the teen boy and the super soldier grabbing hand fulls, the tub was almost halfway gone and you hadn’t even hit play yet.

“Jesus you monsters! Don’t eat it all before the movie even starts.”

“It’s not our fault you’ve been making us wait for 15 minutes.” Peter said through a mouthful of half chewed popcorn.

“Ew Peter! Swallow before speaking please. We’re waiting for Tony. He’d be pissed if we started without him.” You snarked back as you stood to go pop more popcorn.

Heathens. You thought to yourself, rolling your eyes.

“Hey Friday?” Peter yelled at the ceiling. “Where the fuck is Tony?”

You heard Steve mutter “language” under his breath across the room. Sam threw a pillow at him. Bucky dropped his head back onto the couch and cackled.

“Shut up grandpa.” You threw over your shoulder.

As you started to turn back around you caught the blue of Bucky’s eyes staring at you. He still had a huge smile on his face, but his eyes were scanning down the length of your body. His gaze paused somewhere around where you knew the top band of your Calvin Klein underwear was peeking out over the top of your sweats. You felt your whole face flush a bright red, your body temperature skyrocketing.

Bucky’s eyes drifted back up and locked with yours. He gave you a small smirk before turning back around to berate Steve for being a stick in the mud. It didn’t seem possible, but your blush seemed to spread across your chest and you could feel a small amount of sweat build on the back of your neck. What the hell? You closed your eyes and shook your head a bit to try to clear the flush from your body.

Calm down and just pop popcorn.

Just then Friday's voice spoke up “Tony is in the elevator on his way.”

“Thank fuck.” Sam said, which caused more grumbling from the lounge chair occupied by Steve. You giggled quietly to yourself as you poured some popcorn kernels into Tony’s fancy popcorn popper.

You turned to grab some butter from the fridge and almost slammed nose first into a rock hard chest. Two arms wrapped around your biceps to stop your forward momentum. Bucky chuckled softly.

“Whoa princess. Need any help?”

“Uh. Can you grab some butter?” You lifted your eyes off the small bit of skin showing above the neckline of his shirt (was he wearing a gold chain???) and locked eyes with him.

He looked at you for a second, the corner of his lip curled into a lopsided smirk. “Sure thing, Doll.”

He let go of your arms and turned to the fridge. You found your eyes scanning the rippling muscles of his shoulders and down the expanse of his back to his slim hips. It felt like you were peeling velcro apart when you finally forced your eyes to return to the popcorn machine.

Oh my god. Get your shit together.

Suddenly the door to the common room swung open “I have a surprise for you!” Tony’s loud voice called from the doorway.

Then you heard a booming voice (one you hadn’t heard in just about a year) bellow “I’m back midgardians!”

You swung around, jaw practically on the floor, to see if it really was who you thought it was. “THOR!” You squealed. You ran at him full steam. His rumbling laugh almost brought tears to your eyes as you launched yourself into his arms. He picked you up and spun you around. You pulled back to look at him with both palms on either side of his face. “How are you here? Why are you here? Is everything okay?”

He laughed, still holding you about a foot in the air and said “Well, Heimdall had brought me news that my bestie had begun to reside in the compound” you giggled when Thor used the term for best friend you had taught him the last time he was here “And I realized I had not returned to learn of your stories for over a year. It is about time that we ‘overturn the tea,’ is it not?” At this you, Peter and Sam absolutely lose your minds laughing.

“What?” Thor asks “It is time, is it not?”

Steve, Bucky and Tony are looking at the three of you in very obvious confusion. Between wheezing and fits of giggles you finally squeak out “It’s spill the tea, Thor.” This causes Peter to fall into another fit of laughter.

“What do you mean, ‘spill the tea’? Is that a game?” Steve asks.

Thor finally sets you down and turns to Steve while You, Peter and Sam try to catch your breath. “Lady Y/N taught me that midgardian phrase. I am told it means to tell dramatic stories, often those that involve your enemies.”

“Oh my god, Thor I missed you so much.” You laugh and hug him again. He wasn’t kidding, you two were besties. He was so interested in midgardian slang, movies and music and it seemed that most of the time you were the only one who had the patience to teach him things. Whenever he visited you two were basically inseparable and he never failed to make you laugh.

“What were your plans this evening, bestie?” You thought Peter might have an asthma attack or something if Thor kept making him laugh this hard.

“We’re watching a movie! Would you like to join?”

“Indeed!” Thor bellowed. He finally stepped away to great everyone else, giving big bear hugs to everyone. You wandered back to the kitchen to collect the popcorn that Bucky had finished making.

“I didn’t know you and thunderman were that close.” Bucky commented as you grabbed the giant bowl from his hands.

“Well, we don’t see each other that often, but he’s such a sweetie.” You snag a handful from the bowl and shove your face full of popcorn.

“Hm.” Bucky mumbles. He’s looking at the ground by his feet. He seems almost… upset?

“C’mon. We can finally watch!” You give him a little hip check before walking back into the living space. You plop down on the couch, this time between Peter and Thor. Bucky takes a spot in a lounge chair next to Steve. You notice his eyes snag a little too long on the blonde giant next to you.

After the movie is over, and some heated debates between Tony and Thor on which character is the best, you all decide to order some pizza.

You’re struck again at how wonderful it feels to just spend the evenings with your best friends, drinking beer and eating pizza, laughing at the stories Thor tells about Asgard.

When you were living off site, you didn’t have any friends besides… Him. It was supposed to be your little slice of the world separate from your life working with Shield. You tried to keep everything as compartmentalized as possible, but it was hard to make friends when you never really left the apartment and couldn’t be honest with anyone about who you really were. You hadn’t ever realized how lonely you had been for the 3 years you’d lived away from the compound until now. The energy of a room full of your favorite people was intoxicating.

Everyone was standing in the kitchen around the island, drinking beers and chatting. Vision and Wanda were sitting on the couch a few feet away being absolutely adorable. Thor, Steve and Bruce were swapping stories at the end of the island. Nat, Sam and Bucky were picking on Peter. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

You had just cracked open a new beer and started pouring it into a pint glass when Thor spoke up from across the counter.

“So, Y/N, what became of that man Elijah with whom you lived?”

Oh. Shit.

Mid-pour the beer slipped through your fingers and crashed to the counter. Beer went everywhere. Your hands and forearms were covered in sticky residue. Instantly your heart rate spiked and it was all you could do not to let your knees buckle and collapse right there onto the tile.

“Oh. Uh…” You mumbled out. You had to place your palms flat against the counter to keep your hands from shaking. You stared at the kitchen counter top where your glass sat between your hands, trying to force oxygen back into your lungs. It was silent for a bit too long and you could hear the drip drip drip of beer falling from the counter onto the kitchen floor.

“You lived with someone?” Wanda asked from the couch, looking very perplexed.

No one had really known about it. Tony knew, of course, because he needed “a damn good reason” for you not to live at the compound when you first got added to the team, but you had begged him to keep it a secret. Peter sort of knew, only because when he would drop by sometimes he could sense there was someone else in the apartment.

Thor knew because he had brought Asgardian liquor with him one time and you had stayed up on the couch in the compound and gotten hammered and it just sort of slipped out. You’d said something like ‘Oh he’s gonna be pissed when I don’t come home tonight’ and then Thor had questioned you and you’d just sort of… spilled. Well, not everything, but he got most of it.

You just… hadn’t told anyone else. It had started because Elijah had asked to be kept separate from your working life. He didn’t want your relationship overshadowed by “super people” who “didn’t have any idea how to be normal.”

As the years passed, it just started to be a habit, that you would keep secrets from Elijah about what you did at work, and you kept Elijah a secret from everyone.

You could feel everyone in the room staring at you.

“I’m sorry Lady Y/N… I was not aware that everyone did not know you lived with your fiancé.” Thor said softly from the other side of the counter. You winced. You could feel black spots forming in your vision as you tried to keep your breathing normal.

“It’s okay. Um. Yeah. That uh… didn’t work out.” You squeaked out. You couldn’t lift your eyes up to look at anyone. You were focusing all of your energy on not falling apart in front of them.

There was more silence, everyone in the room clearly reeling from learning that not only had you lived with someone for three years, but you were supposed to have married a man none of them knew. The only sound was the continual drip of beer off the edge of the counter. You couldn’t take it anymore.

With a choked “excuse me” you bolted from the room.

You missed Peter saying your name and getting up from his chair. You missed Nat pushing his shoulder back down with a whispered “let her be Peter.” You missed Thor looking at Tony and saying “I should not have said that” and Tony shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. You missed Sam staring down at his hands on the counter, lost in thought. You missed Wanda and Vision sharing a look. You missed Bucky launch himself from his seat to follow you, and Steve snagging Bucky’s arm to stop his forward momentum.

~0~

You crashed through the door to your room and flung it shut behind you. Leaning your back against the door, you slid down to your butt, hugging your knees to your chest. You started rocking back and forth and tried to slow your breathing down. You knew, after talking to your therapist, that this was a panic attack. In the logical half of your brain, you knew you weren’t dying, that no one was trying to attack you or kill you. You knew you could breathe oxygen just fine.

However, it definitely felt like you were dying.

You kept trying to heave oxygen in, but the longer you sat there the more your brain spiralled. You just kept thinking of the silence. The clear feeling of hurt that radiated off your friends, your family.

Your brain warped that silence, filling it with false ideas of your friends sharing accusatory glances. Of their hatred seething from them. Of their distrust and dislike of you bubbling to the surface. You scrubbed at your face. “No no no no” a mantra falling from your lips.

This wasn’t real. Your brain was trying to convince you that they hated you, but they hadn’t done any of the things your brain was trying to tell you they had. They weren’t like that, they didn’t find out things about you and immediately decide you weren’t worth it.

You leaned your head back against the door, knocking it a few times against the wood, trying to clear your brain. You couldn’t think about what happened. You couldn’t change it, you just had to focus on breathing now.

Easier thought than done.

There was a soft tap on the other side of the door, causing you to jerk forward reflexively, like you’d been burned.

“Hey sweetheart. Are you… okay in there?”

Bucky. Oh god. Not again. You refused to let him hold you again while you got nasty snot all in his mechanical arm. It simply wasn’t an option. You opened your mouth to tell him to get the hell away, but the only sound that came out was a small choked cough.

Ah. Right. You couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Hey, it’s okay. If you want your space that’s totally fine. I’m just… gonna sit here, okay? So you’re not alone. I’ll be right here, on the other side of the door, if you need something. Just try to breathe, okay?” Bucky murmured from the other side.

You were on your hands and knees now, staring at the door, gasping like a fish out of water. You could see the shadow of his feet just on the other side. You saw the light shift as he must have sat down. You heard a soft ��thump” as his back hit the door.

There was something about that soft thump that instantly stabilized your racing heart. This was… good. There was no pressure of trying to talk to him or having him look at you while you were panicking, but you knew he was there. It was calming in a way you didn’t fully grasp.

You sat back on your feet and stared at your hands in your lap.

“If your hands tingle, I always find that if I tap each finger to my thumb one at a time, it helps.” Bucky suggested softly through the doorway. You tried it. Tapping one finger tip to your thumb at a time, starting with your pointer. Once you got to your pinky you reversed the order. After a few times, you realized your breathing had evened out and you could see more than just the tunnel vision in front of you.

You looked back up at the door. Bucky’s shadow still hovered just under the frame.

You cleared your throat and croaked “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

You stayed there for a while longer, shifting your weight to one side and swinging your legs around to extend them in front of you. Eventually you laid back on the floor of your room and stared at the ceiling again. Your breathing was even and slow, and your muscles finally felt like they had lost all the tension.

You let your eyes fall shut as you melted into the rug underneath you.

~0~

You woke with a start, dreams of angry brown eyes and a messy flop of blond hair haunting you as you sat up in bed.

In bed.

How did you get here? The last thing you remembered was laying back on the entryway rug and closing your eyes…

Bucky.

You groaned and covered your face with your hands. Not again. At some point, you were really going to have to stop breaking down in front of him.

It was then that you remembered him giving you the advice of tapping your fingers to steady yourself. He had said something about him doing it… there was a sick feeling in your stomach thinking about Bucky suffering alone through that.

You stepped out of bed and went to take a long scalding shower before getting dressed. You should find Bucky this morning and thank him… again. You threw on a pair of sweatpants and a matching cropped sweatshirt, shoved your feet into your sneakers and stepped into the hallway.

“Friday?” You asked softly.

“Yes?” Friday’s lilt came down from above. She sounded softer than usual, almost like she was matching your sound level.

“Where is Bucky?”

“Agent Barnes is on the training level.”

“Thank you.”

You took the elevator down and stepped into the gym. It seemed like everyone was up early and in the gym this morning, crowded around the sparring mats.

“What’s going on?” You asked as you stepped up between Nat and Wanda to look at whatever it was that everyone else was watching.

They didn’t have to answer you, it was quite obvious. Thor and Steve were wrestling to the absolute death in the center of the mat. Steve was putting up a really good fight, but it looked like Thor had him beat.

“Oh my god.” You chuckled. Of course, everyone wanted their shot at sparing with the demigod, especially the super soldiers. It was rare to have a chance to spar with someone who was stronger than the serum made you, so every time Thor came he always did a few rounds in the ring.

You watched as Steve tried to wrap his legs around Thor and flip him over, but Thor had such a good wrap around Steve’s waist it just wasn’t going to happen. Thor brought one arm up and wrapped Steve in a vise-like headlock.

“Yield, little man. I have bested you.” Thor boomed out.

Steve hesitated, but eventually he tapped Thor’s forearm, signalling defeat.

Thor hopped up and started bouncing on his toes. “It was an exceptional attempt Captain, but you have gone soft since I’ve been in this realm.”

Steve groaned as he dragged himself up from the floor. “That, or you’ve somehow gotten stronger.”

Thor’s eyes popped up and found yours with a mischievous glint in them. Not unlike the one you’d seen in Loki’s eyes many times.

“Ah, Lady Y/N has awoken! Just in time for me to crush her into the floor!” Thor chuckled and beckoned you onto the mat.

“My god, Thor…” You groaned, pulling your sweater off over your head revealing your signature calvin klein sports bra you had thrown on that morning.

“I know I’m a god my lady, but the question is, what will you be?” Thor snarked at you. You just rolled your eyes.

“I’m not really dressed for this currently.” You retort, pulling your sneakers and socks off and tossing them to the side of the ring. You catch Bucky’s eye from where he sits just outside the ring. He looks like Thor has already thoroughly beaten him this morning, all sweaty and panting.

I want to lick the sweat off his chest.

Your head twitches involuntarily at the thought that just popped up unprompted in your mind. Behind you, you hear Wanda snort.

Great.

You send a small smile in his direction, to thank him for last night, he nods in recognition as he takes a big gulp of water from his water bottle. You turn to Thor and raise your fists in front of you.

“Alright big guy, lets see how long I can last.”

~0~

It’s surprisingly long, actually. What you lack in brute strength, you make up for in agility. According to Peter, you lasted two whole minutes longer than Bucky and five longer than Steve.

Doesn’t matter, you still feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Or lightning.

You’re standing in the middle of the ring, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath when Thor places a hand on your back.

“Lady Y/N, I would love to accompany you to your room for some of the ‘girls day’ time.”

You chuckle. Thor loves doing facemasks and drinking champagne with you on your couch while you chat about anything under the sun. He asks nearly every chance he gets.

“Sounds great” you pant “Go shower and meet me up there in 30?”

“I will make haste.” Thor winks and turns to go.

You take a few more seconds to catch your breath as everyone goes back about their own workouts or heads up stairs. When you lift your head, Bucky is still packing up his gym bag just outside the ring.

“Hey, Buck?”

He looks up “What’s up?”

“I just… wanted to thank you. For last night. I know you probably have questions--”

“I don’t want to hear anything you’re not ready to tell.” Bucky cuts you off. “And don’t worry about it. Whenever you need me, I’m there.”

He’s finished putting things in his bag and starts to walk away. Something in you really doesn’t like that he’s moving away from you and you scramble to come up with something to keep him here, even for a second longer.

“Do you want to grab dinner?” You blurt.

He stops with his back to you for a moment before spinning around. “Dinner?”

“Uh…” Oh yeah. Real smooth. Really normal of you. “Yeah. Like, maybe we could go to that bar down the street tonight… and catch up?” You bite your bottom lip. You feel like such a freak right now. You’re asking him to dinner? Really?

Bucky’s eyes dart to your lips for a moment before bouncing back up to your face, but it’s noticeable enough that you instantly blush. You can feel the blood racing up to your face and you have to actively resist the urge to cover your cheeks with your hands. Why is it so hot in here all of a sudden?

Bucky smirks at you and then clears his throat. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good. 7:00? We can take my bike.”

“Yeah perfect.” You choke out. “I’ll see you in the garage.”

“Great.”

He turns and leaves, once he’s far enough around the corner you slap a hand to your forehead and double over again. Oh my god. You were going to ride on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle to the bar down the street tonight and have dinner.

This should have felt normal. He’s Bucky. He’s your friend. You used to go grab breakfasts and coffees all the time together.

But something about this dinner felt way different. Your heart was hammering in your chest.

Oh god. What were you going to wear?

~0~

Thor scared the shit out of you when you stepped out of your bathroom wrapped in a towel thirty minutes later.

That’s right. Girl time.

“Jesus Thor.” You placed a hand on your chest as you gaped at the demigod sprawled on your couch.

“I know that guy! Isn’t he the son of a midgardian god?” Thor quips back, unperturbed by how badly he spooked you. “You left your door unlocked. I brought up all of the bottles of champagne that I was able to uncover in Tony’s not-so-secret chamber of wine. I thought you could decide which to begin our afternoon with.”

You laughed at that. He had indeed. There were easily twenty bottles of champagnes of different vintages on the table near your entry. Tony had a massive wine cellar that he always said was for “special occasions only.” Thor being here was pretty special, so hopefully he didn’t get too mad if a few of these bottles went missing.

“Let me put on some comfy clothes and grab some face masks.”

After you had dressed, applied a beautiful green tea facemask all over Thor and your faces and popped a bottle, you finally settled on the couch with Thor.

“Lady Y/N, I first want to apologize for bringing up something that you had shared with me in private in the presence of the team. I was unaware that it was something you desired to keep a secret from everyone. I’m honored that you shared something personal with me and I am deeply sorry for not respecting the way I should.”

You blinked at Thor. You’d almost forgotten that he had been the one to bring up Elijah last night. You’d thought so much about Bucky’s back against your front door and going to a dive bar with him tonight that you’d managed not to worry about the events of last night.

“It’s totally chill Thor. You didn’t know. I also… don’t really know why I kept it from them? I just hadn’t said anything so I was just caught off guard and didn’t know what to say. You know?”

“Yes! You did look quite upset. Did something unfortunate come between you?”

A mirthless laugh escaped your lips. You stared into the glass of bubbles in your hand. “You… could say that.”

“Is this one of those topics that you’d prefer to discuss, or one that you’d prefer to leave to your own heart?” Thor reached out with his foot and tapped your knee with his toes.

You smiled before lifting your eyes to his. “I think I’d like to keep it in my own heart for now. I’ll tell you someday, okay?”

Thor lifted his glass of champagne in your direction “To many more afternoons of scattering the tea!”

A giggle exploded out of you “It’s spill Thor! Spill!” You lifted your glass to clink with his, relaxing into the couch.

~0~

At approximately 6:48 in the evening you decided you simply were too antsy to stay in your room and stare at the ceiling for a minute longer.

You had a wonderful afternoon of “girl time” with Thor. He had stayed for a few hours, telling you about all the silly court drama that he knew was happening back in Asgard. It had felt so… normal. It was glorious.

After he left, you brushed your hair and looked at yourself in the mirror for probably twenty minutes before deciding against any makeup.

It’s just two friends going to dinner.

You had thrown on a pair of black combat style pants, a white t-shirt and a leather jacket over top. Casual, but still a little nicer than the sweats you had been wandering the compound in for the last two months. You still hadn’t fully wrapped your mind around why you were so nervous.

You take a deep breath, shove your feet in your combat boots and decide to just head to the garage now. You don’t want to keep him waiting, and you can just admire Tony’s cars while you wait.

The elevator drops you off in the lower level where all of the team's personal vehicles are parked. As you step out of the elevator, the door to the stairwell opens to reveal none other than the man himself. Bucky.

He looked… amazing. There. You admitted it. He’s wearing a pair of jeans, a black henley unbuttoned enough to confirm that he did indeed wear a gold chain and that he had a small scar at the top of his right pec.

As he walked he tossed a faded leather jacket on and the movement gave you a brief glimpse of skin where his shirt rode up.

Did this garage just raise in temperature by like 20 degrees?

You fought the instinct to fan yourself.

“What’s the matter with you princess? Cat got your tongue?” He chuckled as he breezed past you toward where his Harley Davidson was parked in the corner of the underground lot. His shoulder just barely brushed yours as he passed.

Somehow, you found your voice. “Do you always take the stairs?”

He didn’t turn around to respond “When the elevator is occupied.”

Well. That was… logical. Duh.

“Get your little ass over here, I’m starving.” He called behind him as he approached the bike.

You felt yourself blush from your hairline down to your toes. “Excuse me?”

“I said get your little ass over here so we can get to that bar and order.” He spun around and gestured to the bike, like he was a presenter on a game show showing you your prize. He patted the leather seat twice. “Your little ass goes here.”

“Right…” you mutter under your breath. God what the hell is wrong with you? You walk over to his bike in silence. He throws one leg over the machine, straddling it and hitting the kickstand. You paused momentarily beside the bike. “So, no helmets?”

Bucky turned to look at you over his shoulder with a smirk on his face “Sweetheart, you’re superhuman.”

You just rolled your eyes at him as you finally swung your leg over the side of the bike. “Doesn’t make road rash hurt any less…”

He chuckled as he reached back to grab both of your hands “I’ll take care of you, doll.”

He pulled on your wrists until you slid forward a bit on the leather seat. Your hips were now slotted against each other, your chest melded against his back, your thighs in line. He wraps your hands around his abdomen so that your hands rest on the planes of his stomach. Then, he pats your hands twice, softly muttering “Hold on tight.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and rest your forehead between his shoulder blades. You could hear the door to the underground garage rumble open. You took a deep breath before whispering “Okay…” into his back.

Bucky punched the gas and you took off into the crisp evening air.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #female reader #bucky fic

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lonestarbabe · 4 years ago

Text

Holding Out For a Hero

Chapter 9: Wish I Could Forget

[AO3]

T.K. makes a confession, Carlos deals with his manipulative dad.

---

You were something else I will admit

I remember what you told me

I only wish I could forget

Carlos

They’d been on the bus all day, and as much as he tried to keep track, Carlos couldn’t remember what the next location was. He’d find out when he got there. T.K. had warned him that it would happen like that; the days would stretch together, and so would the locations. Carlos hadn’t believed him. He figured there was no way that he could forget something as simple as where he was going, but when you were almost constantly on the road bouncing from location to location, the places blurred, and the highway went on without end. I never guessed the tour would feel so long or that riding across the country could be so exhausting.

Carlos wasn’t alone in that sentiment. Everyone he’d spoken to had agreed that tour was exhausting for everyone involved once the high of the excitement started to fade into a loose routine but a routine nonetheless. Their days were closely planned, leaving few moments for excursions and sightseeing. Energy shots and coffee kept them going through the long days and irregular hours. Carlos missed home, especially when sleep was elusive. He hadn’t been the best at keeping up with his friends, but tour could be lonely, so he’d call Michelle, who was equally bad at keeping in touch, or some of his buddies, or even his sister. Everyone was friendly, and it wasn’t like he had any issues with his coworkers, but they were busy. And Carlos had shrugged off invites with the crew to hang out with T.K. instead, partially because he knew that when T.K. got lonely, he spiraled. And I want to do my part to prevent that from happening.

But his commitment to spending time with T.K. wasn’t just about T.K. Mostly, Carlos spent so much time with T.K. because T.K. was a good friend. Carlos could spend hours listening to T.K. tell tales of his storied life. Carlos liked to tell stories of his own, too, and one of his favorite things was eliciting that easy, full-chested laugh from T.K., who usually employed a practiced laugh that was polished but shallow. Carlos loved the way T.K.’s face lit up when he brought T.K. colorful doughnuts. The doughnuts from the morning’s bakery stop were half-eaten, the most sprinkled ones already gone. The half-empty box made Carlos smile.

The bus was eerily quiet. No one considered bus rides passive time. As the bus plodded down the highway, everyone kept busy ordinarily, making calls and double-checking that all the arrangements were in order, but Carlos and T.K. were alone. T.K. had barely moved, let alone do any work. Carlos’ favorite bus activity was when T.K. would strum his guitar and write songs, and Carlos would pretend not to listen closely, while T.K. would hide in his bunk. T.K.’s private songwriting was more personal than the stuff he put on his albums, and T.K. trusted Carlos enough to play those intimate pieces near him.

There was no music playing in that music, not even over the expensive speakers that T.K. loved to use when the silence made him antsy. T.K. was mute, bouncing his leg and staring out at the stretch of gray sky. T.K. looked cozy in his pink cotton hoodie, but he kept tugging at it as if it were too tight or itchy.

“You look anxious,” Carlos pointed out, sitting next to T.K. on the couch. His eyebrows scrunched together as he searched T.K.’s face for signs of sickness, sadness, or homesickness, but he couldn’t recognize the meaning of that particular facial expression. His eyes were too sad to be angry, and his jaw was too clenched for him just to be sad. T.K.’s face was a combination of things that Carlos couldn’t quite decode. Someday, I’ll be able to look at his face and immediately know what he’s thinking. I’ll memorize the shapes his face makes. I’ll learn what he’s trying to express, even if he doesn’t know how to express it.

T.K. startled, eyes flitting to Carlos’. “Just thinking,” T.K. avoided Carlos’ eyes and turned his head back to the sky, which was unusual for someone who intensely made eye contact to the point that it made some people uncomfortable. Carlos never looked away. Carlos’s phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it— barely felt it— his focus on intently on T.K.

“Care to share?” Carlos prodded gently. He knew better than to pressure T.K. to talk. If T.K. spoke about his feelings, it was on his own time, but it usually took some prodding before T.K. would open up.

“I don’t know.” T.K. shifted a few inches away from Carlos, pulling his arms closer to his body and looking like a figurine of the larger-than-life presence the world knew.

“What’s wrong?” Carlos tried once more, and if T.K. didn’t give him anything after that, he wouldn’t push anymore.

“You,” T.K. admitted, biting his lip.

“Me?” Carlos’ eyes widened. “Did I do something?” He searched his mind for something he might’ve done that would’ve offended T.K., but things had been easy between them lately. T.K. had been going out less, and he seemed to be doing better, which took some of the stress away that filled Carlos’ voice with tension.

“You’re perfect.” T.K. shook his head. “No, you haven’t done anything bad.” Then, what did I do? “It’s what I did.”

“What did you do? T.K., I’m a little lost here.”

“You’re going to be mad.” Carlos wanted to shake T.K. and tell T.K. to spit it out already, but he chose to be patient.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Not yet,” T.K. hedged.

Carlos leaned closer to T.K., palms getting sweaty. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’re friends.”

T.K scratched his neck. “Yeah, friends.” Why did he say it like that?

“Well, we are, aren’t we?” Carlos didn’t even want to imagine how he would feel if the answer was no.

“I hope so, but there are things about me that you don’t know.” T.K. took a breath. “And you might rethink things when you know.” T.K. was an expert at prolonging conversations to avoid giving answers.

“You don’t know everything about me either, and that’s fine.” Carlos had a whole history that he’d barely mentioned to T.K., and he didn’t plan on bringing it up because what was the point of bringing up the past when it was long gone. But if he asked, I’d tell him. “It’s okay if there are things you don’t want to tell me.” But I want to know everything.

“Carlos, there’s something I need to tell you,” he heard T.K. say, voice too soft. I know, T.K., so tell me.

Carlos’ heart stiffened. “T.K., you’re stalling.” Carlos nervously chuckled when T.K. didn’t respond right away. “The anticipation will probably be worse than the confession,” Carlos assured, and he was trying to convince himself as much as he was T.K.

T.K.

T.K.’s heart pounded in his chest, and he was more nervous telling Carlos the truth than he had ever been before a show. It was easy to perform in front of thousands of people he didn’t know. It was harder to come clean to someone he didn’t want to disappoint. The tone of Carlos’ voice made it even harder. He sounded so concerned, even though T.K. had never given him a reason to care that deeply.

“I messed up,” T.K. admitted, and the words reminded him of all the times he’d had to say that. He remembered times he had drank too much or taken too many pills and called Marjan thinking that he was dying. Every time he called, those events were impressed into her voice as she asked, “Are you okay?” right away instead of saying hello. Or when he’d walked two miles to Judd’s house, disoriented and shivering because he’d dramatically jumped into a pool after a fight with Alex. He’d been too mad to wait for a ride and too high to drive himself. Judd had made a threat against Alex before ushering T.K. inside and warming him up. He constantly let people down, and it wasn’t like Carlos didn’t know he was an addict, but it wasn’t something he liked to bring up, and he certainly wasn’t going to use the words for what he was.

“Are you okay?” Not, “What did you do this time?” or “Here we go again.” Carlos’ brown eyes were soft and caring. The words were those of a friend, not just someone paid to make sure T.K. didn’t fuck up any more than expected. He looked everyone with those cow eyes, but T.K. liked to think there was extra softness when Carlos looked at him. Maybe it was because T.K. was pathetic more than because Carlos actually liked him as a person.

“Don’t be so nice,” T.K. pleaded. He couldn’t stand Carlos being so friendly to him when he deserved misery that Carlos would never give him.

Carlos’ face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not okay as I’ve been making out,” which wasn’t much of a mystery for the people around T.K.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Carlos said dryly. “But recovery takes time. It’s okay to struggle sometimes.”

T.K. wanted to cry at the hope in Carlos’ eyes. He really thinks I’m getting better. He’s convinced that I want to change, but I don’t want to participate in my change. I want to sleep through getting better and wake up feeling sane. “You know how I talked a lot about my therapist?” He’d gone out of his way more times than he’d admit to mentioning his therapist so that Carlos would think it was for real. I can’t be trusted.

Carlos nodded. “Yeah, she seems nice.”

“I was just saying all that stuff to make you feel better. It’s not true.” There, he’d said it. He waited for the screaming that would follow, the “Why are you ruining your life?” in that same voice his mom always used when she realized having a kid was more than an eighteen-year commitment.

Confusion spread on Carlos’ face. “She isn’t nice?”

“No, she is nice. Well, I don’t know. I ditched my appointments.” He was quick to add. “I’m seeing another one now, but that’s a new thing..”

“Why did you make up all those stories? You could have told me the truth,” Carlos sounded devastated.

“You can yell at me,” T.K. told him. Yelling would have made T.K. feel better. He would have deserved it, a suitable penance for the sins he had committed, but Carlos wasn’t going to give him absolution in the way he wanted it.

“I’m not going to do that.”

“You should. I won’t listen if you don’t make me feel like the scum of the earth.” I might not even listen then, but I might feel better.

“Don’t be stupid,” Carlos snapped. He immediately looked apologetic “Sorry.” T.K. wanted him to go back to snappish comments. He didn’t want the normal, constrained Carlos who could keep his temper in check. He wanted a verbal lashing to get the anger out of the way and start working towards forgiveness. “Yelling won’t change the situation,” Carlos explained. “I’m not going to yell at you.”

“I’d feel better if you yelled at me than whatever approach you’re taking now.”

“I’d feel worse if I yelled, so just drop it.”

“I’m telling you that you can. It wouldn’t be immoral or anything if I’m asking you to do it.”

“No,” Carlos said, sounding disgusted at the idea. “I don’t want to be a part of your self-destructive spiral!”

“I’m not on a self-destructive spiral.” I’m not, T.K. tried to convince himself, but there was something about destroying himself that felt so right. The feeling of getting wasted wasn’t just about the high. He liked the fall too, the deterioration of self. Because destruction eases the bitterness, but I don’t want to hurt anyone other than me. The only problem was that his self-destruction didn’t just impact him. The people in his life, the ones he hadn’t pushed away or kept at a distance, hurt as he shoved himself closer to oblivion. Sometimes, he wanted to feel alive, while other times, he wanted to feel dead. The jury’s out on which I want to be. Who didn’t fantasize about the demise of the person they hated the most? It’s nice to let go, shirk responsibility, and leave my future up to fate.

“You might recognize it if you went to see a therapist,” Carlos said as a plea more than a scolding. The hurt T.K. caused had already spread to Carlos, and the thought made him hate himself more.

“I’m seeing one now.” T.K. quipped, We haven’t gotten to a self-destructive spiral yet.” It had only been one virtual session, but he’d scheduled another.

“I’m glad to hear that, T.K., but you still lied to me.”

“You seemed so happy when I told you I’d go to therapy. I didn’t want to ruin that.” The illusion of a functional T.K. Strand has always been the side of him that T.K. wanted Carlos to see because the real T.K. Strand is embarrassing, messy, and pathetic.

“I’d rather you be honest with me. You don’t need to spare my feelings. It’s hard for me to protect you when I don’t even know what’s going on with you.” T.K. didn’t even know what was going on with himself. And maybe that was why everyone was so insistent that he go to a professional. Professionals were supposed to help you sort all that out. But what if I’m beyond help?

Carlos

Carlos wanted to yell; he wouldn’t deny that anger was brimming in his chest, making him crazy with fear and anxiety. That’s all the anger was—the fear and anxiety that T.K. wasn’t okay— that I can’t protect him. Carlos had caught T.K. falling back into old habits occasionally— drugs, drinking, sex with dangerous-looking guys— but he’d thought T.K. had been doing better. They’d been spending a lot of time together, and T.K. had seemed, for the most part, okay. Carlos painfully wondered what other lies T.K. had told. Had the past few weeks been worse than he knew?

“I’m sorry, Carlos,” T.K. said. “I shouldn’t have lied to you.” No shit, Carlos thought. I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t watch him fall apart and do nothing. He’s not doing well, but there’s nothing I can do to make him alright again. He has to do that himself.

Carlos took a breath, resisting the urge to snap again, but he was embarrassed at his earlier outburst. He hated that he lost control like that. “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset before. It’s your business how you handle your mental health,” Carlos said, fabricating the cool composure he needed for his own sanity. His voice was a cold front plowing through the tour bus. He wasn’t going to blow up and make a scene, but he wanted to. He wanted to respond with red hot fire. He wanted to ask T.K. why he had been so foolish and to tell him to get his shit together, but those words were his fear, and such words would only make T.K. defensive. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“I know, but you’re my friend.” Is this how friends treat each other? Carlos had never been the best at having balanced friendships, so he wasn’t sure.

“Why didn’t you go to see the therapist?” Why didn’t he at least give it a real try?

“I thought I didn’t need it. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to need it. Or I didn’t want to commit.” T.K. sighed. “I have a lot of shit I need to confront, and I feel like I’m trying to find a few prized possessions in a crumbing house that I’ve filled with trash. And to get anywhere, I’ve got to clear the trash away piece by piece.”

“But you’re ready to try?” He wondered if T.K. had decided to go on his own or if Judd, Marjan, or one of his other friends had pushed him into it. “You chose to get help?”

“I did, but I’m not making any promises.”

Defeat tugged in Carlos’ chest. “You’re already leaving room to back out the minute things get too hard.” T.K. was already laying the groundwork for future excuses of why therapy didn’t work out, which made Carlos curious about how committed T.K. was to get better.

“It’s not like that. But I know myself. I can’t change. I’ll always ruin everything. I screwed up because that’s what I do, and the sooner you get used to that, the better because if you have expectations of me, you’re only going to be disappointed.”

“Don’t say shit like that,” Carlos said, excess irritation creeping into his voice. There went his resolve to act detached. No matter how hard he tried to keep a level head, he was a passionate person. He cared about things, and apathy didn’t suit him. His passion got him in trouble. It got him ousted from the police force when he’d cared more about helping Michelle find her sister than his job, but it was part of him. He fell too fast, and he put too much of himself into anything he did. No matter how much passion carried him away, Carlos wasn’t going to yell. His voice would be impassioned, but he wouldn’t let his rage fully control him. I don’t want to be like my father.

“Like what? All of it is true. I’m always making a mess of my life.”

“Don’t act like you’re bound to screw up and try to push me away because you’re scared of letting anyone get too close. You don’t have to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. You get to make choices, and you can choose to put the work in to get better.”

“I’m trying to warn you.”

“I’m not expecting you to be perfect. I know you might have ups and downs, so don’t find a way out of this before you’ve even started.” I just want you to try. I can deal with anything as long as you try.

“You’re not listening,” T.K. sounded frustrated. “I’m trying to protect. I like you, and you don’t deserve this shitstorm.”

“Bullshit. You’re scared. This isn’t about keeping me safe. I’m a grown man, T.K., and I’ve had people disappoint me before. Many hurt me more than you ever could. Don’t turn this on me because I’m right here standing by your side. If you don’t want to be my friend, walk away, but don’t keep baiting me into doing.”

“That’s not what I want.” Then, why do you keep doing it?

“What do you want?”

“I want to be a person you can like, but the truth is I’m not even a person I can like.” Carlos’ stomach knotted. He wanted to pull T.K. into a hug and confess how much T.K. meant to him, but he resisted the selfish urge. He didn’t want to send the wrong signals (but he also knew if T.K. asked him for a hug, he wouldn’t be able to say no).

Before he could dispute T.K.’s words, Carlos’ phone started buzzing again, the noise sending fresh anger through him. His annoyance only increased when he saw that it was the same unknown number that had been calling him for a week. “Damn it, leave me alone,” he spat to the unanswered phone and tossed it to the couch. It bounced, and Carlos held his breath, but he was relieved when it didn’t fall to the floor.

T.K.

Well, that was weird. Seeing Carlos’ outburst had in some respects been a relief to T.K., but it also sent a shiver down T.K.’s spine because when Carlos gave such a reaction, you knew the situation had to be dreadful. “We’re a pair of perfectly okay people,” T.K. deadpanned.

“They’ve been calling me all day,” Carlos said apologetically. “I’m just frustrated.” He was back to being the constrained Carlos who acted as if problems rolled right off of him. “I’m not mad at you.” He’s always so quick to reassure me.

“I know, man. Telemarketers suck.” T.K. laughed. “They’re more persistent than my stans.”

The comment broke Carlos’ stoic expression, and a slight grin snuck onto his face. “I know that’s not true.”

“That one girl snuck into a trash can.” She was sweet, a little crazy, but hell, so am I!

“I think it was empty.”

“Still, a trashcan,” Carlos razzed. “Those kinds of things are a nightmare for security professionals.”

“She got her autograph, at least.”

“And I got gray hairs and an ulcer. When she popped out, I nearly lost it on her. She’s lucky you stepped in. I would have escorted her swiftly away without ever seeing you, and then I would have put her on the blacklist.”

“You’re overprotective. She wasn’t going to hurt me.” T.K. knew his fans didn’t want to hurt him, so he didn’t worry too much about his safety. Surely, there were people he didn’t like who he should worry about, but he had better things to do than fret over what other people might do. Carlos fretted enough for both of them.

“I’m as protective as I should be.” And I find “protective as I should be” very endearing.

“You know, Carlos. It’s okay to show how you feel sometimes. You don’t always have to act like things don’t bother you. It’s okay to be un-levelheaded. Ignoring emotions doesn’t make them go away. I should know.”

“It’s my job to be levelheaded.”

“You’re very good at it, but that’s not your job, Carlos. It’s your job to protect my body. You focus on saving that.” And I’d keep you around even if you didn’t do that. “As long as you don’t have to put your own in danger.”

“I would without thinking twice,” and T.K. felt his chest tighten at the thought. It’s not right to put him in danger for my safety. Crowd control is one thing, but any actual danger is off the table.

“Stay safe. I can’t lose you.”

“It’s unlikely it will come to that,” and the words that are implied but go unsaid are, “But if it comes to that, I know what I’ll choose.” The thought made T.K. sick.

“I can save myself,” T.K. asserted.

“Start by saving your mind.”

“We’ll see about that,” T.K. said before leaving to find his guitar. He needed some music therapy after that chat. I hope my stupid songs won’t drive Carlos crazy.

Carlos

It was late when Carlos’ phone rang again, the same unknown number on the screen. T.K. had gone to bed; he must’ve been tired to go so early. The number was an Austin area code, so on the off chance that it was someone he knew, he answered.

“What do you want?” expecting to hear a scam caller.

“Hey, Carlito,” a familiar voice crooned, sounding smooth and smug. Carlos nearly hung up. “Nice to talk to you too.”

“Dad? How did you get this number?” Son of a bitch has probably gotten himself arrested again and needs bail, or he’s gambled away his grocery money. Maybe he has a friend whose been accused of some terrible deed he didn’t do. Maybe a con went wrong, and he’s trying not to get beat up.

“Your sister.” Damn it, Carlos thought. This is the last thing I need.

“I told her that I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Don’t be like that. I’m your old man.”

“Why did you call?” Carlos persisted. The sooner he knew what his dad wanted, the sooner he could tell him no and hang up. I’m too curious to hang up just yet, and it’s been so long since I’ve heard his voice. It sounds just like it did half a decade ago.

“How’s Taylor?” He hasn’t gotten better at small talk, has he?

“Didn’t you hear we broke up?” Carlos said acerbically.

“How’d that happen?” Carlos could practically hear his dad smiling at the news, probably happy that Carlos’ life had taken a turn towards the awful. Still, while the breakup had been complicated and heartbreaking, Carlos was more satisfied without Taylor in his life. Taylor leaving him had been a relief, even if there were some feelings of sadness and loss.

“Long story short, I got fired, he dumped me, and he blew up the police chief’s car after a bender. So, things didn’t work out, which you would know if you didn’t think the whole world revolved around you.” Carlos waited for a beat. “Now you know the whole sordid saga. What about you? Have you been arrested lately?”

“You’re awfully bitter for being so young.” No shit. You made my childhood a shitshow, and I always had to be there to help you out of your messes while you wouldn’t lift a finger to help me out of mine.

“Cut the, ‘How are you, son?’ talk. Why’d you call?”

“You always expect the worst in me, but I’m not the bad guy.”

Carlos wasn’t afraid of his father anymore, not more than the shadow of fear that sometimes crept up on him with memory. There was part of him that still wanted to cower and try to please his dad so he could get his father’s love, but he had to stay strong and remember that Gabriel Reyes was never going to give him what he wanted. He wasn't going to go back down that spiral. “Who is the villain, Dad. You’re the one who belittled me for years and manipulated me into doing what you wanted.” He kept his voice hushed to avoid disturbing T.K., but he knew that his dad could hear the venom in his voice.

“You haven’t heard what I wanted, but you’re dredging up all the ways I ruined your life.” His dad used his conman voice, the one he always used when he was desperately striving for Carlos’ loyalty. “You forget all the things that I did for you, like making sure food was on the table, and a roof was over your head.” The classic guilt trip had once made Carlos feel guilt and shame, but he knew what manipulation looked like, and he’d worked through all that in his therapy sessions.

“You know what? I’m not listening to this. You’re not going to mess with my head and convince me that I’m somehow in the wrong. Goodbye, Dad. Don’t call again,” Carlos said before hanging up the phone. He didn’t need to listen to his father’s manipulative response to know what he would’ve said. He’d heard it a million times.

Carlos laid back on the couch, staring at the bus ceiling, defeated. He wiped his eyes before the tears could fall, and he remembered how his dad always used to say he was too sensitive to make it in the real world and that he needed to toughen up. Maybe he was sensitive, but at least he wasn’t an insensitive asshole who no one genuinely loved.

He put a hand over his head and tried to tune out the overwhelming feelings. Why does he keep making me feel this way? There’s a reason I kept him out of my life, and it needs to stay that way. I need to talk to Lola and talk to her about giving him my number. That shouldn’t have happened. If he keeps bothering me, I might have to change my number. Before he could contemplate further, a weight settled at the end of the couch by Carlos’ feet. “Are you okay?” T.K. asked.

“Sorry I woke you,” Carlos said, not lifting his head to look at T.K. I’m such a loser.

“I can’t sleep, anyway.”

“How much did you hear?” No matter how quiet Carlos had tried to be, they were still on a bus, and the sound carried through the curtains splitting the sections.

Carlos lifted his head enough to see T.K. shrug. “Not much. I had my noise-canceling headphones on, but you sounded upset, so I thought you might want company.” I love this man, the thought flashed through Carlos’ mind before he could be consciously aware of it.

“They aren’t very good at noise-canceling, are they?” Carlos tried to joke, but his voice was flat, and T.K.’s eyes darkened. I can’t even pretend that I’m halfway okay.

“I guess not,” T.K. said evenly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The conversation felt oddly reminiscent of the one he’d had earlier with T.K. “My dad called.”

“You don’t get along, right?” T.K.’s words were cautious.

“That’s an understatement. We don’t talk. I wouldn’t have answered if I knew it was him.”Carlos knew dad-talk was hard for T.K., so he proceeded carefully. “Not all dads are heroes. Mine is the opposite of a hero.”

“What is yours?”

“A nasty bastard, a cheat, and a con artist.” And that’s to put it nicely. “He’s a slimy coward who will use anyone he meets for his own selfish purposes.”

“I hate him already.” T.K.’s face grew dark. “Did he hurt you?” T.K. rolled his lip inward. “You don’t have to answer.”

“It’s okay. He never hit me or anything.” But he messed with my head, and he made me think that I could never be good enough. He made my relationship with my sister tense because she can’t understand why I can’t talk to him. She’s still falling for his dastardly tricks. Those tricks are probably how he got my number.

“I didn’t ask if he hit you.”

“He hurts everyone who gets close, so I don’t take it personally.”

“Hurt is always personal,” T.K. said, the pain on Carlos’ face all he needed to know. “I’m sorry.”

“My dad said never apologize for bastards. It’s the only thing he got right.”

“What did he want?”

“Nothing good. I hung up before he could say too much.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

“I think so.” Carlos shrugged. “I don’t think knowing what he wanted would have made me feel better.”

“You mentioned once that you missed him sometimes. Are you missing him now?”

“You remember that?” Carlos looked surprised. “No, I’m not missing him. I’m missing a version of him that only ever existed in my wishes.”

“I get it. The things I miss most about my dad are the things we’ll never get to have—imagined wedding days and playing with my kids. Things like that.”

“Yeah, I used to want him to change so badly. I wanted a normal dad. I thought that if I could be everything he wanted in a son, that somehow that would be enough. But it never was. He only cared about how much I could do for him. He still only calls me when he needs a favor.”

“Did he say what he needed?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t get that far. Probably money. Or he wants me to call in a favor.”

“That sucks.”

“I’m used to it. It’s been years since we’ve talked, so I don’t have to deal with him normally.”

“He’s probably dying,” T.K. said with a sympathetic voice. Carlos hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps, he was dying. He probably wants me to give him an organ. But what if he really was dying? Would Carlos have wanted to talk to him then?

The thought sent a traitorous blast of sadness through Carlos. “I don’t think so. He would have started with that and would have gone straight into the guilt trip.”

“Why else would he call after so long? I’m not saying to make amends with that asshole or anything, but it’s something to consider.”

“I don’t care if he’s dying.”

“Maybe you don’t want to care,” T.K. pointed out. “But you wouldn’t have that look on your face if you really didn’t.”

Carlos had been caught, and he didn’t have the energy to keep denying the truth. “Good bullshit meter.” Carlos yawned. The call left him confused and depleted.

T.K.

T.K.’s bullshit meter was finicky at best, but Carlos was easy to read. “Not really. I just know you, Carlos. You’ve got the world’s biggest heart.” I should know. He’s found a way to like me.

“I don’t know about that.”

T.K. imagined kissing Carlos’ chest to impress the answer right where it mattered, but he settled for mere words because anything more could only live in frivolous daydreams.“I do.” Carlos looked so forlorn that T.K. couldn’t resist something more physical. Kisses were out, but friends could comfort each other without it being weird. “Let me help.”

“Help?” T.K. nodded and pulled his body up the couch so that he could squeeze himself closer to Carlos. “What are you doing?” Carlos asked with a bemused expression, but he scooted his body over to make more room for T.K. to fit in the sliver of space next to Carlos.

“Reminding that you aren’t alone.” An insecure pang struck T.K. Maybe he was going about this wrong. “This isn’t weird, is it?”

Carlos inhaled. He thought for a few beats and then shook his head. “It’s nice.”

“Sometimes, you just need to be close to someone, you know?” T.K. reassured. “It doesn’t have to be anything more than a friend giving another friend comfort.”

“You’re practically on top of me,” Carlos laughed.

“I can move,” T.K. said, voice sinking. Am I making a fool of himself? Can he tell that I think about him in ways I shouldn’t? Does he see that I more than like him? T.K. felt like a little boy with a schoolyard crush. It would never amount to anything, but the mere thought delighted him. Maybe I just like that he’s good to me. Is someone nice to me all it takes for me to fall in love? Am I that pathetic? But he knew it was more than that. Something about Carlos made him feel more secure than he ever had, and it wasn’t related to Carlos being his bodyguard.

As he shifted to get up, Carlos grabbed his arm and turned onto his side, pulling T.K.’s back against his chest. T.K. memorized the exuberant feeling of being so close to Carlos because he didn’t know when it would end. “Don’t. It’s been a while since I’ve had anyone to hold.”

“You can’t tell me that the whole crew isn’t all over you.” T.K. said with a grin. “That cute smile and those cow eyes.”

“Cow eyes?” Carlos asked, indignant, and T.K.’s chest bloomed with warmth.

“They’re adorable.” T.K. was weak to those eyes, as anyone would rightfully be.

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Don’t ruin the moment, my little teddy bear,” Carlos teased.

“Carlos!” T.K. blushed.

“Now you know how it feels.”

“I was complimenting you.” Carlos made T.K. feel safe, and T.K. wanted to make Carlos feel safe too.

A moment passed, a snug, easy moment. “Thank you, T.K.,” Carlos said so sincerely that T.K. thought he might melt. He turned over so that he was facing Carlos; their bodies were pressed close, and together they were warm and strong. He held eye contact, testing if he could make Carlos look away with his intensity, but Carlos didn’t look away.

“Thanks for what? Comparing you to a cow?”

Carlos laughed, shaking his head. “For being here.”

“We’re on a bus. There aren’t many places I can go. Besides, you’re literally here for me all the time.”

“It’s my job,” Carlos brushed the comment off, as he often did when T.K. became too praising of Carlos’ efforts.

“You made a list of the best bakeries in the country and make the bus driver when we pass one so you can get me doughnuts.”

“He doesn’t mind. I feed him doughnuts for his troubles.” Carlos shrugged. “I like doughnuts too.” Carlos yawned again.

“But you get them for me.”

“Friends give friends doughnuts.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said drowsily. T.K. said nothing until he felt Carlos’ breaths evening.

“I love doughnuts,” T.K. whispered to check if Carlos was sleeping. “I love you,” T.K. said, his heart fluttering with the admission. He laughed to himself. Even as Carlos let out soft snores, chest rising and falling evenly with the rhythm of sleep, the words were hard to say, but he meant each one of them.

#holding out for a hero #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #my fics #elise writes #wip

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readingsbylibramc · 4 years ago

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synastry chart reading for @fvckhxbits

hello! welcome to your reading. I'm going to give you a quick overview of what I'm going to analyze about your synastry chart: in-depth analysis of house overlays with major aspects, potential of the relationship, soulmates indicators, possible marriage indicators, possible issues and struggles of the relationship, intimacy and physical attraction, what they feel when they see / think about you, in-depth analysis of fate, love and marriage asteroids. of course, if you have any questions, feel free to ask! my dms are always open. now let's get into the reading!

PARTNER A: she / her | libra sun, virgo moon, gemini rising.

PARTNER B: he / him | gemini sun, scorpio moon, scorpio rising.

PARTNER A

- personal planets -

🌞 partner a's libra sun in his 11th house

this could be the type of relationship that started off as a friendship, or at least that feels like a friendship. you and your partner don't focus on doing cheesy, romantic couple stuff, but you also enjoy having fun together like two friends. you may attend parties and events together, you may go out with your friends and get along with each other's friends pretty well. you may socialize more as a couple, perhaps even more than you two usually do. this placement can also indicate that you two met thanks to your friends for example, or maybe online, or even at some sort of social gathering like a party, a concert, etc. basically, a place crowded with people. the 11th house is also about long-term goals, and hence your partner may see you as a dream, as something he wants to last. you two may have a long-term, stable relationship, you both want this relationship to work and to last as much as possible. in addition, this placement may also motivate both of you to achieve the best in life, you may drive each other to be successful and achieve your goals, or perhaps one of them may even be of help to the other to get a reputation, a job, etc.

partner a's libra sun trine partner b's gemini sun: you and your partner just get along with ease. you have the same ideals, the same approach to the world, you see eye to eye on pretty much everything, and even if sometimes you disagree with the other, you still understand their point of view, there's this mutual understanding of each other that makes the relationship flow very smoothly. you're probably not afriad of being judged by the other, as you are so similiar that the atmosphere gets naturally light when you're together. there's no stress, just appreciation and pleasure. you two have same ideas, a similiar mentality and maturity, but you can still bring something new to the other without making it too overwhelming, and that's why this relationship feels so beneficial and light-hearted. for example, your libra sun can bring romance and cooperation to your partner's life. especially since he's a scorpio dominant individual, he may tend to rely on himself most of the time. you're here to help him, to let him understand that you're not alone. your partner, on the other hand, could help you come off as less conceited; that is, you may often want to be right, especially during arguments. your partner brings you the mental stimulation to discuss not for the sake of being right, but to gain knowledge.

🌙 partner a's virgo moon in his 9th house

you see your partner as someone mature, wise, brilliant... basically a role model. they have a lot of influence on you, they’re a sort of inspiration. you may share the same ideas and views of the world, maybe politcally or even about music genre for example. overall, this placement indicates that you perceive your partner as someone powerful and distant from you, someone elevated and far away from you that you can't seem to reach. perhaps, it could also be that you two are physicaly separated, he may live abroad or still somewhere far from where you live, making it hard for you to meet each other. you admire him deeply, and thr flip side to this is that your partner may become too dependant of your compliments, of your opinion of him, and hence a break-up would be fatal for his self-esteem. the 9th house represents sagittarius, which is all about exploring and knowledge, you know? therefore, you may want to get to know this person in-depth, you’re curious about their habits, their talents, their secrets... you want an authentic, reliable vision of him. you never get tired of talking or even just thinking about this person, learning about his persona amuses you. last but not least, this person makes you crave a stable relationship with him; you may see as someone perfectly wise and mature for a long-lasting relationship, you see him as the ‘end of the race’, someone perfect to commit to.

partner a's virgo moon square partner b's gemini mars: this placement may cause some troubles, as you may often be blind to your partner’s attitude. especially since the moon is placed in his 9th house, you may idealize your partner way too much when he’s not actually who he seems to be. at first you may be okay with his behaviour, as a gemini mars and dominant he tends to be way more impulsive than your logical virgo moon. yet, as time goes by, you may start feeling constantly contradicted, arguments could be more frequent as you may misunderstand each other. more specifically, you start realizing that your partner’s nature is too different from yours, and while there are many other aspects that could mitigate this effect, you may still feel as if it’s impossible for you to have a long-lasting, healthy relationship in these occasions. especially your partner, he may often hurt your feelings with his words. on the other hand, this placement also has a positive side! you are strongly attracted to each other, you both feel attached to the other with glue, and that’s exactly why this relationship could become unhealthy, because you may struggle to let go of the other if necessary.your bond is so strong that you can’t manage to separate, even when there are so many hardships and conflicts.

🗣 partner a's scorpio mercury in his 12th house

this placement makes you extremely empathetic in regards of your partner. you probably can tell what’s going on in his mind pretty well, you may complete his phrases, you may basically read his mind. you know when he’s happy, when he’s sad, when he’s angry, when he’s lying... he’s an open book to you, he can’t hide. perhaps, you may even make dreams about him and viceversa. you could often find yourself daydreaming about this person as well. on the other hand, there are a few problems caused by this placement as well, we’re still talking about the 12th house after all. first of all, your partner is a scorpio dominant: he’s lonely, secretive, private... he doesn’t like showing his real nature to others, he feels uncomfortable revealing all of his secrets, his mind. having someone that understands him so deeply, while it can impress him in some way, you may catch his attention, but at the same time he may as well be annoyed by it. he may start feeling overwhelmed from this lack of privacy, he may want to run away as this relationship could start being unhealthy, especially for him. or perhaps, he may actually be looking for a relationship of this kind, an intense, transformative relationship, therefore he may actually appreciate it, but it depends on what he wants from a partner. his cancer venus makes me think that he would feel at ease with such a strong connection, but again, he’s a scorpio dominant, so he may still be secretive and uncomfortable, maybe it depends on his mood. last but not least, this placement can also make the two of you quite paranoid; your partner may often feel as if you’re hiding something from him, and that could interfer in your bond of course.

partner a's scorpio mercury conjunct partner b's scorpio moon: I find this placement so lovely! you two get along pretty well, you feel comfortable sharing your feelings with the other. you may be a very sweet couple, you may call each other sweet names like 'honey', 'baby' and so on. also, you have no problems communicating with the other, especially considering that this conjunction also happens in your 5th house, the house of romance. you have very long, confidential talks, it's pleasant for you two to vent all of your worries. there is a mutual understanding that makes it very easy for you two to stay committed in a relationship, as it's an healthy environment for your mental health. you could be each other's therapist, you always try to understand what the other's thinking. the only problem that could arise with this placement is that you may tend to analyze too much your partner's emotions. for example, let's suppose your partner has had a bad day and he wants to talk about it to you. he just wants to vent and be heard, but you may mistake this for wanting to be helped. you could give him some advices, when he actually didn't ask for anything. basically, remember that you don't always have to solve his problems, just listen to him.

❤️ partner a's sagittarius venus in his 1st house

this placement indicates that you most likely find your partner extremely attractive! he probably fits your beauty standards, you find him very charismatic and charming, it's hard for you not to stare at him. basically, he's your type. also, aside from being into his looks, you may also be fascinated from the way he presents himself in general: you may like his fashion sense, his manners, the way he approaches people, the way he speaks... bascially, everything about the outer him, it was likely love at first sight, or at least you instantly felt strong attraction to this individual when you first met him. also, this placement also indicates that you may inspire your partner in an artistic way, and viceversa. for example, let's suppose you like writing; you may feel inspired by your partner to write books about him, or perhaps poetry or song lyrics. you see your partner as someone aesthetically pleasant, basically as a piece of art. your partner also has this placement, his cancer venus is in your first house, therefore this feeling is mutual. overall, you both feel flattered and loved by the other, you may often compliment each other and that will be a complete self-esteem boost for both of you. feeling loved by your partner and viceversa inspires you to love yourself, and as a result you feel more beautiful.

partner a's sagittarius venus opposite partner b's gemini mars: I wouldn't say this is an extremely negative placement. oppositions are still easier to deal with than squares in my opinion, but still there could be some major problems regarding conflicts. you and your partner may not see eye to eye regarding love and sex, you may struggle to meet each other's wants. for example, you may desire more romanticism from your partner, and your partner may want more physical attraction from you. you may tend to act submissive around your partner, he could make you feel like a teenage, while your partner adopts a more bossy, stereotypically 'manly' behaviour. while this may be attractive and 'safe' for both of you, it could actually become a boring relationship that doesn't bring anything new to both of you. you are very different, you most likely have differents needs and wants that you expect from a relationship, making it difficult to work of course. but again, you're not doomed: your venus is sextile your partner's saturn. that means that, with time and growth, your partner will eventually start to understand you and your point of view. basically, at first it may be hard to feel healthy while being in a relationship of this kind, but as time goes by, you'll both learn some major life lessons that will improve your love life. even if this relationship doesn't last, you'll still get out of it with loads of maturity and experiences.

partner a's sagittarius venus sextile partner b's libra saturn: as I’ve mentioned above, this placement is particularly positive in this chart. the saturn person, your partner, with time will make you more mature and responsible. he will teach you how to stand up for yourself, without depending on someone else. he will allow you to be more of an adult as well, he could literally act like a father figure with you at a certain point. the saturn person, on the other hand, will learn from you, the venus person, how to be more laid-back. he may be someone very busy and constantly stressed that can’t dedicate much time to himself. you will soften him, you’ll show him that it’s safe to let feelings take over sometimes, that it’s fine to show love and affection to others. he won’t be seen as weak, but simply as human. it’s an important life lesson that he needs to learn since he has a lot of grumpy scorpio energy which restricts him from truly enjoying life and relationships, as he tends to be more introspective. the only problem that comes with this relationship is that you may eventually start feeling limited in this relationship; your sagittarius venus wants to be free, you want your relationships to be all about fun without any worries, and with a partner that acts like your dad you may start feeling oppressed in the long run. especially since your partner may even have quite of a cold, detached approach with you, that will hardly make it seem like a romantic, fairytale-like relationship if that’s what you’re looking for. same goes for your partner: while he may see you as someone bright and cheerful that lights up his day, he may start seeing you as too immature for him.

☄️ partner a's virgo mars in his 10th house

this placement isn’t exactly romantic, I would say it’s more suitable for a working relationship, but there are still some notes that could resonate. in first place, you may inspire your partner to be successful, you may be his strenght to pursue a certain career or even just to lead in general. your support boosts his self-esteem, allowing him to succeed and achieve his goals. in addition, you may actually work in the same field, or perhaps you aspire to follow his steps and work in the same environment as him. you may also literally help each other with your job, for example if he works in an office you may help him getting some documents done, if he’s a teacher you may help him with his students, etc. one thing for sure, you would support him in anything he does, you would become his numer #1 fan. the house person, aka your partner, also sees potential in you, and he may help you being more successful in your finances and career as well. he probably appreciates your skills and talents, as well as your strategies. the problem with this overlay is that, at first, this relationship could be quite boring or even cold at first. there’s a lot of seriousness and respect from both of you, which could make this relationship too heavy, especially for your free-spirited sagittarius venus. this placement could also be interpreted in a more family-related way: you may inspire him to become a father, he may be very present for his children, and he would do anything to provide wealth and security for his family.

partner a's virgo mars square partner b's gemini mars: this placement is quite tricky, especially when it comes to the sexual side of the relationship. more specifically, you tend to have quite different needs from the other which interfer in the way you enjoy your moments together. for instance, during sexual encounters, you probably don’t have the best of your time as you have different views of sex. you see it as something very intimate, your virgo mars makes you very picky, and you probably enjoy being prepared, you don’t like improvising. your partner is literally the opposite: he prefers exploring and constantly trying out new things without warning. he’s a mutable dominant individual, he doesn’t like settling down to one thing, and that could make you feel overwhelmed. you like being in control, and in this relationship you would definitely struggle to be in charge. basically, you may both be disappointed from the other’s sexual performance, and especially for your partner, sex is important. if it isn’t enjoyable, he could easily detach and drift away. he also seems very stubborn, he probably won’t try to sacrifice his desires to satisfy your needs, therefore if you’re not willing to adapt to his wants, I would say that this relationship wouldn’t be healthy if it lasted much. in addition, aside from issues regarding your intimate life, you may even fight on a daily basis, especially since you also have 12th house synastry that brings misunderstandings. I have this aspect myself with tons of people I know, and I can say that I constantly feel annoyed by them. I just don’t vibe with them, we constantly argue and disagree on so many things. even if you have other soft aspect that may make this more bearable, it’s still something that shouldn’t be underestimated, especially if you’re aspiring to have a long-term relationship with this person.

PARTNER B

🌞 partner b's gemini sun in her 12th house

this one is kind of a tricky placement. while this placement indicates that your partner feels strongly attracted to you, he may also feel rejected and / or confused about this relationship with you (or even viceversa, you may be the one to feel rejected). when he first saw you, he probably couldn't get his eyes off of you, you were constantly in his mind, you attracted him like a magnet. it's a very intense relationship, but that he probably can handle since he himself has some 12th house placements and heavy scorpio dominance in his chart. it's actually quite beneficial to have such a placement for him and for the sake of the relationship, or he may possibly get bored of it, especially since he's a gemini sun. you may see your partner as someone very charming and alluring, even mysterious, and that's probably why you fell for him in the first place. in addition, your relationship may also be enigmatic; you may hide your relationship, or perhaps one of you tries to hide the other from their friends, family, etc. or at least there's this fear of being open about this connection. you're probably the more private type of couple, you may like to socialize but only in safe environments with people you trust. aside from that, I don't see any other hardship coming from this aspects, since your sun and your partner's form a beautiful trine. hence, you get the best of the 12th house: this may be a very dreamy and romantic relationship, or perhaps you actually dream of each other. you could also help each other in some way, you're always there for the other and you're also very loyal. now, I don’t know if this relationship is canon or not, as astrology can’t determine that, but this placement can also indicate platonic / one-sided love. you may tend to idealize your partner a lot, and you may never have the opportunity to confess your feelings to this person. but again, this will only apply if this person doesn’t know about you, and of course it doesn’t mean that the relationship is impossible.

partner b's gemini sun conjunct partner a's gemini ascendant: finally, a pleasant aspect! your partner probably thought that you were very attractive when he first saw you. you may meet his ideals of beauty, he sees you as his type of girlfriend. he likes the way you move, the way you speak and present yourself, or even just the way you look physically, he may like your face and body. he may even be more straight-forward and approach you first, he may often spoil you with compliments and you don’t step back from them. you appreciate the way he looks, or even stare at you. actually, you may even crave his attention. your partner, aside from admiring you deeply, may even take you as a role model, he may desire to be like you, especially in your way of approaching the world. perhaps, since he’s a scorpio rising, he may wish to come off as more easy-going and open, just like you do thanks to your gemini ascendant. same thing goes for you: you also appreciate the way your partner lives his life, his achievements, his goals, his ideals, and so on. luckily, there aren’t other negative placements that interfer with this mostly-posiitve aspect. in fact, this aspect could possibly bring a feeling of competition between you two, as instead of admiring and appreciating the other, you may start hating yourselves because you think the other is better.

🌙 partner b’s scorpio moon in her 5th house

this placement is extremely lovely! probably one of the best to have in a romantic relationship. your partner may feel fascinated by your hobbies, your skills and talents; you may be particularly creative and / or intelligent, and this is really attractive to him. he sees you as someone very lovely, someone ideal to start a relationship. you two feel comfortable together, you can both have fun like two children playing around; you may often tease each other for example, but you never misunderstand or get hurt by the other, there’s this mutual love and empathy for the other that makes it extremely rare for you two to be in conflict. sex is also pretty romantic and, above all, respectful. your partner may always try to be gentle with you, as he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way, thanks to this placement he may be way more considerate than his scorpio moon when he’s with you. what I’m going to say now is a bit more specific, but since the 5th house is also about creativity and arts, you may literally become a muse for your parter. for example, if he’s a singer, he may write songs about you; if he’s a writer, he could write poetry or romance thinking about you, and so on. you inspire him to relax and have fun, without thinking about job and worries, just pleasure. it’s indeed a very peaceful and amusing relationship. in addition, the 5th house rules leo, the ego, the self-esteem. being with this person, especially when he spoils you with compliments and appreciation, is extremely helpful for you to feel more loved and secure of yourself, especially in your appearance. therefore, this relationship has the potential to be healthy for both of you, as long as you don’t become too obsessed about each other’s opinion of the other.

🗣 partner b's cancer mercury in her 1st house

with this placement, you probably also fell for your partner for the way he talks, he exposes his thoughts, his choice of words. you may even be literally into his voice, you like the way it sounds, you thought it was attractive when you first heard it. you may even see your partner as someone smart and intellectual who has a way with words, someone that can achieve whatever he wants thanks to his witty intellect. you may also enjoy his sense of humor, you probably don’t force your laugh when you’re around him because you find him genuinely entertaining. as for your partner, he may also be into the way you think and talk, he could be fascinated by your ideas and creativity. in addition, mercury is all about curiosity, and hence he may be curious to get to know you. when you first met him, he felt this sudden urge to get to know you, he could’ve been the first one to randomly approach you, and he started making random questions just to hav ìe a conversation with you. even more simple things like “What is your favourite food?” looks fine to him, as long as he learns something new about you, he cares about this kind of stuff. this placement can surely make good friendships, as you two are able to have an amusing conversation, even though it may be more casual rather than deep. you probablty wouldn’t talk about the meaning of life with him, to make it simple, but rather about your hobbies, your passions.

☄️ partner b's gemini mars in her 12th house

this is another tricky house overlay. you probably feel extremely attracted to this person, but you can’t figure out the reason. it’s like you’re under a spell, you don’t know when it started and when it’s going to end, if it’s ever going to end. in fact, this placement will make it particularly hard for you to let go and forget about this person, you may constantly hold on any little clue that may indicate that this relationship can work and be long-lasting, even if it starts stressing out both of you. the thing is, since you can’t exactly understand why you feel so attracted to this person, you find it hard to find a reason to end it. of course you can’t rush something like this, you prefer understanding your feelings in-depth rather than base yourself on your suppositions, but in this way you’ll just get stuck into this cycle. aside from that, mars is also about physical attraction, therefore with this placement, your partner may not feel physically attracted with you, and if he does, there could be some issues regarding sex and intimacy in general. he may feel as if you don’t appreciate him and viceversa, and this could obviously lead to many conflicts, not only between the two of you, but in general in yourselves. you may start feeling like a failure, as if you’re not worthy of love at all, when it’s absolutely not the way you should interpret this. it simply means that you two can’t see eye to eye, and therefore you can’t match each other’s energy.

ASTEROIDS & CO

❤️ partner b's libra juno conjunct partner a's libra sun

this is the only relevant aspect I could find regarding love asteroids and points of destiny. at least, it’s very positive! in fact, juno is the asteroid of marriage. with his juno being conjunct your sun, your partner sees you as his ideal partner, his ideal spouse, someone he wants to commit to and that he wants to spend the rest of his life with. he’s probably into a feminine, romantic and elegant partner that would do anything for him, and you totally fit that description, you embody his ideal personality. therefore, this placement makes it extremely easy to get along at first and feel attracted to each other. you may as well feel as if you want to marry this person,as if you he was meant to be your husband. it could pretty much feel like a soulmate connection, especially with that magical 12th house synastry that you two share.

CONCLUSION

pretty much, I wouldn’t say this relationship is extremely romantic. if you asked me, I would say that it looks more like a friendship, or perhaps like a platonic relationship based on these placements. the thing is, you have this 12th house synastry that makes you fantasize and dream about this connection and about your partner in general. the problem is that you may often ignore red flags, as you’re very confused about this relationship in first place. if you’re not together yet, you may even doubt that your partner feels attracted to you. to be completly honest, I barely see this as a love relationship, or at least not in this lifetime. you don’t have many karmic indicators of you two being meant to meet and marry, but your 12th house synastry does indicate some sort of soulmate connection. since I was quite unsure, I decided to pull out a tarot card to sort out my doubts. I got the chariot, which is all about experiences, it’s a journey. therefore, my take on this is that you two may have some karmic bond, but your souls may need to wait for a few lifetimes before finally meeting in human form. I have this strong feeling that you probably haven’t met this person yet, but if you actually did and you’re in this relationship, then I’d suggest you to trust your intuition. possibly, spiritual outlets could also help you understanding if this relationship is worthy for you and for your mental health, like astrology, tarots, meditation, etc. after all, astrology indicates the potential, but the fate of the relationship is still in your hands, you’re free.

and this is the end! thank you again for booking a reading :) let me know if you have any questions xx

- libramc

#astrology #synastry chart #synastry reading #synastry

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popatochisssp · 5 years ago

Text

Alright, this one definitely goes under a cut! XD

Horrorfell

Same rough concept as my take on Horrortale (if you’ve read FGTC, you know the gist, but I’ll sum up)-- human falls, does a Neutral run, leaves the Underground in disrepair, without solid leadership and no souls.

Slight divergence from that: Toriel wasn’t killed in this run...

...but a lot of other monsters were, so when she tried to take the throne, she was more or less booed offstage for wanting anything other than immediate, violent retribution against humanity for what they did.

Undnye is the candidate who takes over, grieving over the disappearance of Alphys and more than a little mad with rage at humanity.

Papyrus...disagrees with her politics. He was thinking ahead-- if one human child could so badly decimate their society, what could a grown one do? An army? No, they had to be smarter than that...

The disagreement...escalated.

Which brings us to...

Horrorfell Sans

He got caught up in the fight with Undyne, trying to help his brother out. He got a broken skull for his trouble, but he was a little sturdier than his non-’fell counterpart and took a few more hits, too: leaving his jaw set at a crooked angle and his cervical vertebrae badly cracked.

He's totally nonverbal. Speech physically hurts him now, so he stopped doing it. He could probably still rasp out a word or two, if you pressed him, but as soon as he hits the Surface, he's gonna start the slow (slow, Slow, SLOW) process of learning sign

It's slow because his memory retention is terrible and he pretty much just lives mostly in the moment, by context clues. He doesn't wanna embarrass himself or look stupid by asking what's going on (and in some cases, with the language barrier, he couldn't ask anyway...) so he just cold-reads what he can and tries to Act Natural

Aggression around or towards him can trigger feral states, in which he absolutely will snap and lunge if he feels threatened, or feels like a loved one is being threatened. While still Underground, he ended up wearing a chest-harness so his brother could grab him and hold him back from attacking if need be (yanking on his collar could've damaged his neck worse than it already was).

No harness on the Surface, but that also means that he doesn't........really leave the house, not un-escorted: his brother (and he himself) worry about him losing himself or just being unable to communicate while he's solo. Unfortunately, he's a social guy, so this makes him pretty lonely, and very frustrated feeling like he's trapped in the house and needs his brother to do things

Makes hand-knit blankets and sells them online for work, no face-to-face communication necessary and the repetitive skill is easy to get absorbed in and not screw up-- so long as he has a pattern to work off of

Horrorfell Papyrus

Lost his leg below the knee in That Fight with Undyne-- it wasn't initially a bad break, but then he walked on it, carrying an unconscious Sans, and used their limited healing supplies on his brother instead of himself, so... (It's fine though, in the end, he found out later he took her eyes in the same fight, so fair trade, right?)

Has a prosthetic leg his brother made for him, it looks nothing at all like the original leg, or even really a leg, but it's cool as hell and extremely functional, which are the only two things he cares about (He probably puts Cool™️ decals on it, post Surfacing, some awesome flames and such, you know)

Patrolled Snowdin for humans, siccing Sans on any they found and pulling him back before he mauled them too badly that their souls couldn't be used and then bringing the meat to the Capital for distribution. Getting everyone out was the priority, no grudges against Empress Undyne...except that Papyrus didn't trust her with the souls and kept them squirreled away Somewhere so she couldn't just absorb one and go to the Surface and make a huge political mess with the humans. He lies to Undyne and tells her Sans was just shattering the souls beyond retrieval-- she only half-believes him and sends a lot of spies to Snowdin on the regular, it's a Whole Thing

...Until he assassinates her and assumes the throne himself right before they have enough souls to Surface. Then, he’s the King who brought everybody to freedom, so it’s easier to convince monsters around to the whole Let’s Not Wage War on All of Humanity thing. His reign is short and he abdicates to Toriel as soon as things are more or less settled.

Has a very abrasive personality, incredibly prickly and intentionally mean (because he's terrified of forming personal connections: he almost called Undyne a friend and look what she did to him, to Sans, he has so much guilt over that and feels like he should probably never let anyone in ever again)

Very gentle and patient with his brother, all things considered-- not an insult or a cuff upside the head to be found, just casual support and acceptance. He learns sign in the first few months Aboveground so he'd be ready whenever Sans was.

A battle-weary soldier to the core, glad to be Done...but he also won't hesitate to use (non-lethal) force in any situation if he deems it necessary

Becomes a physical therapist on the Surface, he knows the pain and struggle of a mobility-impacting injury and wants to help others conquer it like he did...though he's not wholly bluffing for his ego when he says he sadistically enjoys putting people through their paces and making them cry. It's for a good cause, in the end!!!

Fun Facts Because They’re Important To Me

Sans doesn’t know a whole lot of sign yet, but he knows all the swears, all of them, it was very important to him

Sometimes when going up stairs, he will take them on all fours. He will also go on all fours if he’s running, but he almost never runs because he’s very lazy

Intense fear and anger can trigger his feral states, but so can extreme happiness-- so if he’s cuddling with a s/o, it is not out of the question that he might start purring or knead the blankets around them up into a cozy little nest

Papyrus needs glasses for reading, but doesn’t wear them out, he thinks they make him look too approachable. (He’s right, because they’re the half-moon kind that look like they belong on an old lady librarian--they even have the little chain attached so he doesn’t lose them around the house.)

Even more tsundere than tsundere, somehow-- it shouldn’t be possible, but he’s managed it. Anyone trying to get close to him, emotionally, had better have a thick skin for those first couple of months of ‘I’m A Jerk, You Don’t Want To Like Me!‘

Is seeing a therapist for Everything That Happened. He doesn’t regret most of it, but Undyne was... hard... and he figures he needs some kind of counseling for that. Unfortunately, he makes his therapist want to bang their head against a wall because he is so stony and slow to open up. He still goes, though, so that counts for something, right???

And to differentiate from other multiverse skeles, their nicknames shall be Brick (Horrorfell Sans) and King (Horrorfell Papyrus), and that’s aLL I GOT THANK YOU FOR LISTENING

#horrorfell #sans #papyrus

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hopeshoodie · 4 years ago

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Please feel free to ignore this guiltilyless, but you mentioned you had low self esteem among other problems and I was wondering how you got out of that? I know you accepted your physical appearance but I was wondering if that also applied to the just feeling bad about yourself in general? I know this is personal but I want to know other people experience with this

No worries <3 I’m always down to talk about heavy stuff with yall. I put in a cut, caution for negative self-talk and mental health issues below.

I feel like it’s important to note that like… I still feel bad, all the time. Most of it is resenting myself for my education/career choices and poor coping mechanisms for mental illness, it’s just that none of it is directed towards my appearance.

I have a weird relationship with self-worth, because a lot of my internal narrative is ‘you had so many opportunities and you fucked them all up, you’re not worthy of the privileges you have’, but then if someone else were to say that to me it would be like ‘fuck you! People don’t have to be successful to be worthy of dignity and peace!’ Like my self-worth is really affirmed through antagonism and de-personalization. Chalk that up to being a former swer or Marxist, ig. But I feel like just because I’ve gotten over my obsession with being pretty and having a good body doesn’t mean I’m at all out of ~hating myself~.

But I did manage to conquer my low self-esteem about my appearance through body neutrality. For me, being able to say “I don’t need to have a positive or negative relationship with my body. My body isn’t supposed to be ugly or pretty, it’s supposed to get me from point a to point b.” was lowkey revolutionary. It changed how I work out- I focus on strength training instead of fat reduction- and how I talk about my physical appearance. Plus a big thing was just… Not putting on makeup and wigs every day.

It sounds like you’re looking for broader coping mechanisms than that, though. I’ve struggled with this thing in therapy quite a bit where I can intellectualize that something is true, but I don’t feel it in my gut. Like I KNOW my trauma was not my fault, but it didn’t FEEL like it. I KNOW all people have intrinsic value, but it didn’t FEEL like that applied to me. Obviously that still happens with other things, but some coping mechanisms I use are:

De-personalization: reframe your thinking by asking yourself ‘if someone else called some random girl ugly/worthless/asking for it, I would disagree’ You are that kid. You gotta parent and defend yourself better.

Asking myself what I’m getting out of the unhealthy thinking pattern/coping mechanism. In school when I went through my ‘not like other girls’ phase, my low self-esteem reinforced that there was a reason I was so lonely. But once I started to get over that phase and recognizing that I could have friends who were just as cool as me, that went away. For the appearance thing in my teens, I was obviously getting my financial independence and self-worth through being attractive. So when I stopped ‘getting’ that out of it, it was easier to stop the unhealthy thinking.

Refusing to make self-deprecating jokes. I’m probably really annoying, but if people around me (or I catch myself) make a self-deprecating joke or a joke like ‘I’ll just become a stripper’ I stop them and explain that either 1. Sex work is hard and by joking about it as a last resort you’re stigmatizing it for current swers and normalizing it to people who might think of it as an easy job or 2. Our brains can’t tell the different between negative jokes and negative statements so if you make su*cide jokes or call yourself stupid your brain registers that as true. I’ve really worked to replace all of these kinds of jokes with absurdist jokes instead, so no one gets hurt including my brain. So instead of saying ‘ugh x happened I’m the worst’ I’ll say ‘ugh x happened, I’m going to build a tower of hats and live on the top of it.” Or instead of saying “I’ll just drop out of school and become a stripper lol’ I’ll say ‘lol guess I’ll just commit tax fraud : ))))” Just in general stopping all negative self-talk was much easier for me than doing positive self-talk.

Above all else, therapy. I know that’s hard because finding a good therapist is damn near impossible and most people don’t have the financial resources to, but if your school/insurance has the opportunity to do it, take it. It might seem like ‘oh nothing happened to me I just feel ugly sometimes” but like… That’s what therapy is for.

Idk if any of this was helpful but here’s some disorganized thoughts lmfao

#not lithegame #anne lore

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lawschoolruinedme · 4 years ago

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I just need to write this all out because I can’t keep having it bouncing in my head

Where do I start? I married an addict. I know this. I knew that. For better or for worse means you stand by someone as they struggle to be a better person.

A year into our marriage my mom unexpectedly died. I was already dealing with my own personal complicated relationship with alcohol, and it was easier to drink than to deal with the trauma. But I kept going. Kept moving forward.

My husband’s drinking got bad. His mood got worst. He hated his job. He felt isolated from his few friends; we had moved cities for my work, and he had still not recovered from the pre-me life of being a barfly, where your fellow drinkers feel as close to friends as your lifestyle can sustain.

Two years after my mom died, we attempted therapy. He did not take well to it; the therapist was clear he thought my husband was depressed and struggling and he didn’t think my husband was doing anything to help himself. My husband decided he wanted to stop going. I went a few more times myself. I knew we couldn’t sustain the place we were in.

I told my husband two years ago that if he did not get a handle on himself, I was done. I would told him I wanted to leave. And he asked me for a chance to be better. He acknowledged how bad he had been. We agreed to plan on working forward together.

I always knew my husband enjoyed his beer. He would be fine one second and then the next I would have to make excuses for us to leave whatever social situation we were in. It was like there was no tipsy warning period.

When I was a kid, I knew my mom liked to drink. I didn’t realize how much my parents were drinking until I was an adult. I didn’t realize how often the opaque coffee tumblrs were actually filled with vodka. I didn’t realize how long it would take a normal person to go through a 40 oz bottle. I didn’t realize that was likely where much of our money was going.

A few years after we had been together, my husband and I had been visiting my family when my husband turns to me and says “wow your Mom is drunk, huh?” and it was like... the scene in HIMYM with the glass breaking realization? That was me. Everything wild and fun about my mom was the alcohol. Every conversation she couldn’t seem to remember and brushed off as though there were too many things in her head? That was the vodka talking. I started to recognize the slur in her words. I started to know I had to set times in which I could talk to her - any later than 5pm her time was a lost cause. It changed how I handled her. It changed how I related to her.

My husband used to qualify his drinking. So long as he didn’t miss a day of work, he said, he wasn’t that bad.

After I told him I wanted to leave, things really did get better. He stopped falling asleep on the couch. I stopped seeing the glassy eyes. He was sleeping better. We were having sex again.

And in that period of things getting better, we got pregnant. I had conquered my own demons at that point. Even before I realized I was pregnant and had to, I had quit most drinking. I did not nurse myself to bed with wine to numb myself to sleep. And so quitting for pregnancy, and effectively staying dry and sober for breast feeding came easy to me. Nowadays, one drink gets me a happy buzz. And unless I was away from my daughter, I wouldn’t want any more than that.

My husband took parental leave. We would do sleep shifts with the baby; trading off for six or eight hours so the other could be human. And after a few months, I was due to go back to the office.

I told him, unequivocally, I would not be drinking when the baby was awake. I asked him to please consider doing the same. He had been doing so well - this felt like the logical next step?

Instead, the few months I spent at the office it seemed like his drinking became this money pit that our fragile finances couldn’t sustain. One month he spent $1,000 on beer and liquor. But he hadn’t been glassy eyed? He hadn’t passed out on the couch? I still cannot reconcile how he was drinking ~ 10 beers a day (yes, I did the math) and had seemed so normal?

Things came back under control when he returned to work. I chalked it up to the restlessness of being home, the isolation of spending most of the day with the baby who was only just then starting to seem like a little person herself. I hadn’t seen the signs of the man who had once fallen in the street. I told myself it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t as bad, and I could live with it if it kept getting better.

We have spent many weekends this year camping. It is basically the only covid-safe activity we can find given the baby’s age and my husband’s asthma. In pre-baby days, we used to nurse drinks through the whole day, sitting around the fire and reading. I told my husband, in no uncertain terms, he is the only driver, and I expected that he would be sober and ready to drive if something were to happen to the baby.

Five camping trips. Twice he broke that rule. It was often a matter of “shove some carbs into him and he became human again”, but I still felt sad. Still felt lonely. Still felt like this was a reminder that I was hanging onto hope of things getting better by the thinnest thread.

And this weekend, as I’m trying to explain to him what my parents drinking did to me, what I don’t want it to do to our daughter, how he is almost forty and he needs to start seriously considering that this could kill him, he tells me (as if it was good? I still dont understand) that when it was at its worst, when it was so bad before I threatened to leave him, that I didn’t know how bad it was. That I didn’t know he was often having a beer before leaving for work at 7am. That I didn’t know he was often sharing beers with the guys at work in the cooler at the shop. That I didn’t know how much he had been hiding from me.

This. This is where I have not been able to keep thinking. I know the narrative that led to this place. I know every decision I have made has led me to my daughter.

But how do I deal with this knowledge. How do I deal with the flippancy of what he told me. How do I trust when it has become so clear that my own hawk-eyed observance, of tracking how much is purchased, on hiding the liquor bottles when his mood is bleak, that it was never enough.

How do I trust any of the progress that has been made is real? How do I believe that any of it even is progress anymore - and not just cleverly disguised from me?

I feel like that girl who had her whole perception of her Mom shattered all over again. Who once again has realized that her intuition, her attention, was so wrong.

#personal

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whiteheartlight · 4 years ago

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OKAY that is IT I am going OFF here’s my hot take:

Vakama should not have been the leader of the Toa Metru.

Now hold up hold up don’t get me wrong: Vakama?? A lil angel. Did he commit some sins?? Yes, many. Was he a little evil there for a hot minute?? For sure. We know this. But I have nothing in my heart but forgiveness and affection for him he’s perfect don’t @ me

But should he have been the leader of the Toa Metru?

Perhaps not.

Why?? Okay let me ramble a little.

1. From the beginning, Vakama demonstrated serious anxiety, insecurity, and stress at the idea of being the leader of the Toa Metru. Now I am all for “greatness thrust upon them” and “rising to your destiny” sort of things, but this is not what that was. Vakama voiced self-hatred, insecurity, and sometimes outright panic every time he failed to be the leader the others were expecting him to be. In the movies, his siblings pile the Great Disks that failed to impress “Turaga Dume” into his arms, symbolizing the weight he carries as their leader.

Okay maybe that’s me reading too much into it but oh my goodness his sad lil face.

From the beginning he was having breakdowns about his inability to lead – “I’m just a cross-wired freak wasting everyone’s time” – and here’s the thing: he never really stopped doing that. His anxiety began to turn into rage and ferocity, causing him to bitterly embrace the weight his siblings put on him by giving brash, stupid orders, which again got them into trouble, causing another breakdown – “I’m sorry I failed you all” – and then another – you know, that whole Visorak thing?

We got to see Vakama realize that his siblings still wanted him around despite his failures because of Matau’s forgiveness, but that doesn’t automatically erase the fact that Vakama never really seemed to find a way to cope with the weight of leadership.

Compare Vakama with a natural (if REALLY AGGRESSIVE AND LOUD AND BRASH) leader like Tahu, who sometimes expresses anxiety or fear over the thought of failing his brothers, but doesn’t tear himself completely apart or break down after failures such as the Toa Nuva’s defeat at the hands of the Skakdi. That particular defeat just gives him a clearer perspective on the situation and allowed him to make better leadership choices, like sending Jaller’s team to Mahri Nui instead of his own, while Vakama seems to make worse and worse choices the longer he’s pressured to lead.

(Side note: I wish we could have seen more of Jaller’s reaction to Matoro’s death, because I think he may have shared many parallels with Vakama after the death of Lhikan. But that’s another essay.)

In my opinion, even at the end of their arc, Vakama seemed sad more than accepting and maybe even lonely. He embraced his leadership in a very quiet, tired way, speaking to Norik in soft tones in the scene where they prepare to leave Metru Nui and then giving up his Toa powers without speaking a single word to his siblings, just accepting his fate.

2. And that’s especially bad and dangerous because guess what? Vakama was traumatized as hell at the end of their arc!!!!!!! He was!! So traumatized!! Get this boy to a therapist!! How do we know this? Well, not only was Vakama already an anxious, shy Matoran, but he was also in a deep grief over Lhikan’s death, which was clearly traumatic on its own because of his serious mood swings and personality changes. We could guess that the incident with the Visorak would be a second trauma even without confirmation, but we know for a fact that it is because, years and years and years later, he still can’t even fully tell the story to the Toa Nuva because of how deeply it affected him.

Vakama’s trauma was deeply intertwined with his duty as a leader – not only did Roodaka convince him to join her with the promise that leadership would come easy to him if he lead the Visorak instead of the Toa, but every time something went wrong in his time as a Toa, he blamed himself for it for failing Lhikan, failing his siblings, and failing the Matoran. This is not a Toa who should have been forced back into the position of leadership just because Matau was able to reassure him that they still wanted him around. It would have taken pressure off his shoulders and allowed him space to heal without being isolated from his siblings by his responsibility if he could have had a chance to recover without that pressure. Shoving him back into the situation that caused him so much stress in the first place would not be helpful even if the others all admitted they should have been more understanding about what he was going through. That still doesn’t solve the problem that Vakama never seemed to know how to deal with some of his siblings, command the team in general, or bring everyone’s ideas together into one cohesive whole instead of just all of them throwing themselves into situations and hoping for the best. That doesn’t solve the problem that he blames himself for small mistakes and lets them eat him alive. He didn’t need a fourth chance at figuring this shit out on his own – he needed collaboration with his team and time to process his recent and past trauma!

I wish we could have seen more of how Vakama recovered from what happened!! Like I got my Matau and Vakama moment, but I would have loved to see him and Onewa make up too since they fought so much. Honestly?? I would have loved to see him form loving relationships with… well, really anyone. It was clear that Nokama and Matau both loved him and were willing to show him that, and I really believe from the way the Turaga all became friends in the end that the others would be his friend and help him heal too, but we never really got to see that. Like what would Vakama’s relationships with the others even look like if he ever got a chance to not be the leader or the visionary, but to just be their brother? I’m getting off track. Cause here’s the third thing:

3. Vakama never really demonstrated that many leadership skills.

I’m SORRY, okay, really I am!! But seriously. At the beginning, he only lead because he was a visionary and that is no way to choose a leader, especially since he so badly wanted to not be the leader at that point! Before the personality changes I associate with his grief over Lhikan, he showed himself to be nervous, insecure, shy, soft-spoken, unwilling to take control, not particularly communicative, reserved… these aren’t bad things, but they’re not necessarily shaped for leadership. He lacks confidence and a willingness to lead.

To be fair, he does have a lot of good leadership qualities too. He listens well to others, he’s intelligent and kind, and he’s very quick on his feet and good at putting puzzles together and figuring out how to destroy things like talking demon plants. This makes him a very good boy and also someone very good to have in a fight. But that’s a strategist, not necessarily a leader. He takes failures much too harshly, doesn’t command the others well, never shows any real interest of his own in leadership imo, and needs to be coaxed and comforted into making many real decisions.

The exception, of course, is that angry, hurting Vakama who snaps at all of his siblings and makes bad choices to try and convince himself that he’s a good leader. Remind me why we put that much of a burden on this lil dude?

(I actually have thought about that some – did the others see Vakama as the leader because they perceived Lhikan as seeing Vakama as the leader? Or, as I suspect, was it more tied to the apparent tradition of fire-spitters being expected to be the leaders? If Vakama was expected to lead because of his nationality, this could contribute to his anxiety over being expected to lead – is he a bad Toa of Fire just because he struggles with leadership? Did he know from the beginning that everyone would expect that of him? Even as a Matoran, did he feel less like a Ta-Matoran because he never met the stereotype of a commanding, confident, charismatic fire-spitter? I don’t know the answers to these questions, but I love thinking about them because Vakama is 11/10 and other Fire Toa like Jaller and Tahu have struggled with similar insecurities and the struggle of trying to be good leaders and Fire Toa, reflecting on the expectations placed upon them, like when Jaller feared that he was fighting with Matoro because of their elements and when Vakama asked Tahu to admit that he was afraid of failing the others and leading them into harm.)

Okay, and yes, Vakama did seem to be a better leader by the time he was a Turaga. But honestly, from what we saw of them in meetings and moments, Vakama doesn’t particularly stand out as the leader. They all redirect each other when they’re getting off-topic, they all coax each other into telling stories or doing what needs to be done, they all go “NOKAMA tell me you did NOT show Gali that cave” and things like that lol. And that’s great!! Because they learned to be equals!! Incredible!! But in that case, there was no reason for Vakama to lead them as a Turaga, and if they had continued to be Toa, I really think they would have needed another leader.

Here’s my proposition: Vakama should have been given space to heal. The others welcomed him back and accepted his leadership during the battle with Roodaka, but he didn’t actually do much beyond the obvious, which was “shoot her, guys!” And it was great. But it doesn’t make him a good leader necessarily. I think it would have been good for him to be able to step back from the expectations and the stereotype and to just spend some time adjusting to what happened and learning to rely on his siblings as his support system and family instead of the people always tearing him down for not being what they need him to be. He wouldn’t have had to abandon the leadership skills that he was beginning to develop because he would still have been the Turaga of Ta-Koro. He could have had some time just to learn his own leadership style: not shy or timid, not aggressive and brash, but rather embodying the things he does do well, like giving others chances to use their talents, listening patiently to their concerns, and then working to reign them in when things go wrong or certain Av-Matoran wander into danger too many times in one day. Managing Takua would be enough leadership responsibilities for any Turaga, that’s all I’m saying!

Who do I think would have been a better leader for the Toa Metru? Easy. Obvious. Nokama.

She always should have been.

I don’t believe that Vakama would ever have become the leader of the Toa Metru if he wasn’t a Fire Toa and a visionary. Ever. He would have backed up, said no thank you, and I think it would have been better for him. Nokama would have been a great commander for him, cause guys?? She fucking loves her brothers. She loves Vakama when he’s breaking down, when he hates himself, when he fucks up, and she tells him that. She puts a hand on his shoulder and whispers encouragement and she defends him when the others turn on him. She protects him. She loves him. She fucking loves her brothers. She loves Matau when he’s annoying her, when he’s being goofy, when he’s fucking up too. She loves Nuju, trusting him with her secrets and being warm to him no matter his aloofness. She loves Onewa, seeing past his anger and flaws. She loves Whenua. Okay I can’t think of any examples on that one right at this moment cause I don’t have my books out but here’s my source: dude trust me.

She always sees the best in them, always supports them, always gives her heart to them. She is supportive, caring, kind, considerate. She’s Nokama. She’s really, really, really good.

But of course that doesn’t make her a leader. That could even make her a pushover. But honestly if you know anything about Nokama, you know that word could never be used to describer her.

This is a Toa who commands respect. Nokama is powerful, gaining swift control of her powers and later showing an interest in sparring with Nuju and improving on her fighting, trashing her fair share of enemies along the way and surviving serious injuries without complaint. When she does, you can see how much her bickering brothers are willing to come together to look after her, all of them pretty much shutting up and working together to protect her, all of them united in their worry for her. Nuju respects her independence enough to let her go jumping off the ship to explore the water in Voyage of Fear without telling anyone, and this isn’t the only time in her life Nokama makes a decision about what needs to be done and what should be done and then does it. She shows Gali the carvings in the cave without asking for permission. She goes to Jaller and tells him about the disappearance of the Great Spirit against the others’ wishes because she knows what’s right and she’s going to do it no matter whatever anybody else says. That’s taking command. That’s strong decision-making. That’s accepting responsibility and being able to deal with it. I love her.

Additionally, she’s rarely flustered and replies coolly to both flirtation (“And I thought Vakama had strange visions…”) and sniped comments from grumpy siblings (“Save the lessons for your class, teacher!” “Look, we’re here for a reason”) and she asserts herself when she thinks something needs to be said (“This is not Vakama’s fault!”) What’s more, the others actually listen to her.

That may not sound like a big deal. But this is the Toa Metru we’re talking about. So let me say that again: THE OTHERS ACTUALLY LISTEN TO HER OH MY GOSH WHY DIDN’T YOU GUYS ELECT HER QUEEN LIKE IMMEDIATELY? Her brothers are always fighting – she’s even fighting, sometimes! – but you think Nuju’s really going to ignore Nokama? You think Matau’s not going to put in the effort to work with her? You think Onewa’s going to throw a fit at her and that the others are going to let him get away with it? You think Vakama’s not going to feel calmer letting her take control? Why do I keep leaving out Whenua I’m so sorry I love him too but anyway –

Guys she just would have been such a good leader. She just really would have. She really, really would have. Like you look at that conversation where everybody’s like “well maybe I should be leader instead of Vakama!!” and you just… you have to laugh. Are you guys joking. Let’s look at the other options.

1. Onewa: Don’t even start. His temper… oh my goodness. And Tahu has a temper too, but Tahu is not like Onewa. While Tahu seems to take pride in the chances he gets to lead his team and command the others effectively, Onewa is like this bitter little porcupine always fluffing his quills up at the others. Honestly, he would have HATED being leader. That would have required him to deal with his horrible family all day!!! Onewa I love you never change but you need a lot of alone time and very few people annoying you you little angel. He would have gotten really stressed and frustrated and lashed out at everybody. Also, you remember that time he didn’t feel like he had time to explain a plan, so he just mind-controlled Whenua to make him do it for him? His whole leadership would have been like that. He would try to do everything for himself because honestly, he’s really independent and proud and would be just a tiny bit evil with that mask of his <3

2. Whenua: Okay mostly a nice boy. But he’s just really stuck in his head a lot of the time. That’s his and Nuju’s whole thing, right? He’s stuck in the past and he’s a really deep thinker. Nobody has time for that in an emergency. What’s more, Whenua’s people skills are not particularly strong. Like Vakama, he isn’t a very commanding presence, or at least once you get past the deep, booming voice he isn’t. Also he isn’t really a compromiser. He’s stubborn and I don’t think he would have done well at incorporating other people’s viewpoints into his own – especially Nuju’s!

3. Nuju: this is a joke right. He would literally be so annoyed if he had to lead. He has less than zero interest in leading. Everyone would be like “what should we do, Nuju?” and he would just be so uninterested in explaining his thought process to these idiots or, worse, having to listen to their dumb-ass ideas and arguing and then having to work with those dumb-ass ideas. Don’t be confused, this isn’t the same as Kopaka. Kopaka is “you’re all so dumb I have to eventually step up and do something about it” which is why this poor sucker ends up as Tahu’s deputy despite his best efforts at being a loner. Nuju is “you’re all so dumb I’m going to go over here and do my own thing and if you need something, I’d rather you just trust me to handle it.” Literally this man is so disinterested in communication that he speaks a random-ass bird language just so nobody can talk to him without having to go through a translator. He is trying so hard to make his whole existence a “fuck you” to his siblings. I adore him. And, as a side note, Nokama could always handle him despite that. She was never even daunted by it.

4. Matua: you know what?? I don’t think he would have been all that terrible if he was given time to mature and explore the role a little and stuff like that. There’s a reason the Le-Matoran adore him!!! But also, you know he can be goofy and sometimes too flippant and fun-loving, and I don’t think most of his siblings would fall into line for him… at all hahaha. Nuju taking orders from Matau?? Onewa?? Even Vakama, I think, would dismiss Matau as a joke. I think he really proves himself as a mature and capable young hero the moment he risks his life just to make sure that Vakama knows that he’s sorry and he still wants him as a brother. I think Matau would be a good deputy. But at the beginning of the story, seriously I think Nokama would have been so much more functional as a leader than any of the others.

Geez they’re just such a disaster team. I’m filled with so much love for them. Maybe nobody should be their leader. I think they found the best compromise in the end – that equality we see in books like Tales of the Masks. Teasing each other, holding each other accountable, pushing each other to be better versions of themselves, equals in their story circle. They just went through so much and it was so hard but I think really the strength of that team, in the end, is the intimacy with which they come to know each other’s weaknesses… and then learn to love each other despite them. They told the Toa Nuva stories that made them look like such assholes sometimes, haha, but you know they were all sitting together in that circle, making even laughing about something mean Nuju said or about how much they fought, though they always go quiet and somber for the moments of real grief, taking the time to sit with the truth of each other… To know each other’s flaws. To love each other anyway. To see each other temperamental, headstrong, goofy, cold, stuck in the clouds, and maybe just a little bit cross-wired, and then to see, even more clearly, all the ways that that makes them just, determined, joyful, protective, wise, and truly and earnestly good.

I don’t know. I guess I’m just thinking about the things I love about the Toa Metru, and I think Nokama was the one who saw those things first. She loved them. She supported them. Maybe she was never officially their leader, but I will always think that she could have played that role the best because she was someone who helped to show her brothers that all the parts of their team that they thought made them broken were really the parts that made them so wonderful and worthwhile.

And maybe Matau as her deputy, just for the moments where you need someone to shout at you about just how important and valuable and loved you are. And then you rescue him with this wicked spider-web bungee-cord and it’s SICK, FUCK YEAH.

Thank you for reading my complete ramblings (I didn’t double-check my facts and haven’t read the stories in a long time, so go easy on me if there’s small inaccuracies or things that you disagree with! But hey I’m always down to talk about just how great the Toa Metru are :)).

#toa metru #white light posts

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songketalliance · 4 years ago

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Lonely Souls in a Pandemic

“It’s weird how a pandemic and being separated from people I hardly knew who lives in this city with me brought us so much closer together.”

by Teah Abdullah

I’ve lived away from Brunei a total of three times since I was 19, and I could count the amount of times I’ve been homesick on one hand. In fact, I’ve only been homesick once.

And now we’re in this pandemic, and it threw me completely by surprise.

In March last year, I forced my parents to go back to Brunei when they had only visited me in Australia for three weeks instead of the original three months. The decision was because my father is immunosuppressed, and their health insurances do not cover for pandemics. At the time, the decision felt easy, even though there’s a weight in my heart knowing that I probably won’t see my family for another year or so.

My anxiety, which I was learning to manage with the help of my therapist, was high when Covid-19 travelled to Australia quickly, bar graphs on the television screen shot up day in and day out. I lived alone in a large apartment, took up all sorts of hobbies (remember Animal Crossing???) and dated somebody who was bad for me to fill the void my family had left. I had zoom classes for my martial arts, and each time the classes ended, I told everybody how much I missed and loved them.

What I really missed was the comfort of family. I think back to when I lived in Singapore for three years and how I was able to fly home any given weekend with cheap flight tickets due to privileges attained by my mother who works for the airline. Living in London was great because my brother was an hour and a half train ride away, and would regularly visit me to fill the void we both felt that only family could fill even though all we did was laze the weekend away in my flat.

With a pandemic and living in an isolated city on an isolated island, with restrictions imposed on just about any country that would make me or my family come physically closer to one another, I could feel the sickness that only home could remedy. I miss the comfort of my bed in Brunei, the shuffle of Bapa’s feet as he entered the living room, the feel of my mother’s arm linked into mine for support so she can walk straight, the sound of my brother’s grunt when he agrees to a suggestion, the boom of my older brother’s laugh, and the sound of my sister’s car engine driving up the driveway.

I no longer know how my two year old niece’s weight would feel if I carry her. She thinks I’m a YouTube video every time I video call her.

It’s bloody hard, living alone, not verbally talking to people directly for days sometimes, anxious of touching surfaces while trying to manage a relationship that I knew wasn’t meant to be in in the first place. I kept it to myself and told my friends back home, until I had to consult my therapist one day (face to face, thank goodness) of how much I was struggling, especially as someone who was on the tail end of recovering from an event that led to me developing post-traumatic stress disorder syndrome. Her advice was to make plans with the one friend I have by organising walks, and ensuring we stay at a safe distance from each other.

That was the start of it, really. The void in my heart, I realised, was also experienced by so many other people stranded in Canberra, a city filled with people who did not grow up there. Jemma and I took walks every Friday evening and watched films afterwards at a safe distance from each other. Tina and Hannah came for dinner at my place every Saturday evenings, each occupying one side of the dining table in order to help each other cope. Adam—having lost a family member—and I began talking to each other every day to help fill our loneliness, and Steph, separated from her partner and her family, would text me telling me how much she misses seeing me or sparring in sword class with me.

As their love filled me, I broke up with the man I was dating.

It’s weird how a pandemic and being separated from people I hardly knew who lives in this city with me brought us so much closer together.

As restrictions began to ease, and contact sports were allowed touching, I found myself missing the feel of being touched—something I didn’t realise I needed—even though it meant that my hapkido training partners were throwing me to the ground. The friendships I developed in lockdown developed outside the comfort of my home and smart phone, and I found myself turning into an incredibly social being, ensuring that my days are filled with friends I cared about, telling people I love that I love them even if they don’t feel the same way, transforming myself from being a cold pessimist to the warmest version of myself.

Acquaintances whom I didn’t know the life of early in 2020 became close friends who’d consult me with their life problems. I became the person people go to for cuddles. I was spoilt with options by people who wanted to adopt me as their family for Christmas. My friends and I closed a bar to celebrate my birthday when the year before I only stayed at home.

The truth is I don’t know when I’ll see my family again. It could be this year, or it could be the next. But the thing is I’ve somehow managed to make my own found family here. It doesn’t have the same warmth as my real family, but it is just as special—lonely souls in a middle of pandemic reaching for one another to fill a void.

by Teah Abdullah

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aliceslantern · 4 years ago

Text

Give/Take, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 9

Ienzo has been too busy since the war to be overwhelmed by the past. But with little progress to be made in his work with Kairi, old nightmares start to invade.

Riku is a glorified housesitter. Lonely and faced with no choice but to wait for a way to find his friends, he eagerly accepts when Ienzo asks him to help do repairs around the castle. Before long, the two strike up an unlikely friendship, united by their dark pasts and their attempts to be better people.

But just as they begin to consider something more... Kairi wakes up.

Ienzoku (Ienzo/Riku), post-Melody of Memory, slow burn. Updates Thursdays until it's done.

Chapter summary: On different worlds, Ienzo and Riku write each other letters.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Ienzo,

Sorry for the radio silence over the past few days, but things have literally been so insane I haven’t had a minute to myself to write this note. My mom is barely letting me out of her sight--not that I can blame her. She goes between being outraged to dropping everything and hugging me. She wants to know everything, and I’m trying to tell her as much as I can, but still editing the most… incriminating parts until she’s ready. You understand. Even when I was home before we never got into it.

I haven’t even really had time to enjoy being home. I’ve had to see family, friends, and they all want to know where I’ve disappeared to. People all over town, too, want to know what happened and where I went. A lot of people assumed that I’d gotten myself killed.

Including my parents. That was, and still is, the hardest thing I’ve had to accept. Starting to grieve someone and just beginning to make progress only to learn they’re alive… I feel so guilty. Now I wish I’d gone back home during Kairi’s year of sleep, even for a little while.

I’ll tell you more about what happened, but I just wanted to… start to get a status update. “Any news?” How are you? How have you been? What are you and the guys up to?

Write soon,

Riku

Dear Riku,

Thanks for your text. Of course I understand how overwhelming everything must be, and this was an unusual homecoming. I just hope it’s been more joyful than bittersweet, though I fear it’s the latter. I’m hoping this transition becomes less of a traumatic one for you. And even if it is… well. I am an impartial ear.

Correction--a somewhat impartial ear. I will yell at, and/or make fun of, anyone who gives you grief.

Do tell me about Sora and Kairi. Things must be dazzling for Sora especially--I can only imagine what sort of journey he’s gone through, and I’m probably wrong. Hopefully the three of you get to spend some time together, just relaxing and being friends. It’s the least of what you deserve.

I, on the other hand, don’t have much worth reporting. I’m continuing to work with Aeleus and Dilan on the repairs, helping Even with his various little experiments. I’m trying to figure out where I would be most helpful, but that has been somewhat difficult. I’m sure you can sympathize. It’s finally starting to get warm again here.

If I ever quit faffing about and find something worth writing about I’ll let you know…

Yours,

Ienzo

---

Ienzo,

Ha ha. For some reason I don’t believe you’ve been as lazy as you said you’ve been. Though part of me hopes you have. You deserve a little rest too.

On the topic of rest…

Right after I got your letter the puppet strings that have been keeping me awake since I got home snapped. I fell asleep on the living room couch and didn’t wake up for thirty-six hours. Mom was hysterical; she thought something was really wrong with me and took me to the doctor (which, considering how long it’s been since I’ve been home for any length of time, was my pediatrician. Awkward.). But the doctor just said what I told her, that I just needed to sleep . And sleep, and sleep… maybe it’s my turn to sleep for a year. Ha ha.

Yeah, yeah. Spare me your lectures. I’ve been so wired that even when I tried, I couldn’t sleep.

Sora and Kairi are doing as okay as they can. Of the three of us, I think Kairi’s bounced back the quickest. She’s already talking about re-enrolling in school to catch up. Considering she’s the mayor’s daughter, it made the news when she got back. She’s like a celebrity, though because she’s Kairi and she’s perfect, she’s got it under control. I mean that with no sarcasm whatsoever.

Sora…

As you can probably tell by me skirting around the subject, Sora… isn’t completely okay. Physically, he’s fine. Healthy. But it’s… between the Keyblade War, and what he experienced alone while we were all, very briefly, dead (which, remind me to tell you about that if I haven’t, because it is a trip.). He’s been ALONE for so long. I’ve never seen him so shaken, and he’s so quiet . Talk to him and he tries to be all smiles, of course, but a few of us were at the beach and instead of being all up in the middle of it like he usually is, he was sitting aside… alone. Kairi’s been trying to gently pry, but he keeps saying he’s okay. A tired act I think all of us know well by now. Honestly, I’m not sure what to do. What kind of therapist here would get what he’s gone through, anyway? The most we can do is be there, and keep on top of him, and hope he heals and processes over time. Makes me feel like a shitty best friend, but the emotional stuff was never my forte.

Sleepily yours,

Riku

---

My sleepyhead,

Hopefully by the time you get this you’re actually conscious. You had a long ordeal. Physically, emotionally, of course you’re exhausted. I hope you’re actually listening to it instead of pushing through. Been there. Done that. It is not worth it. You’re probably also still growing, believe it or not. The human male keeps growing and developing until twenty-five, and unless my knowledge of Destiny Island’s time stream is way off, you’re not exactly there yet.

I’m glad Kairi is doing well, and taking all of that in stride. If it were me I would’ve thrown in the towel long ago. I think school would be good. A taste of normalcy. You three deserve to get back to your lives… whatever that means. Or at least rest a while before finding greener pastures elsewhere.

It’s disheartening, but not surprising, that Sora feels the way he does. Like I said, I can only imagine what he might have gone through. Though I don’t like it when you say you’re a shitty friend when I watched you struggle to save your friends for a literal year. You’re too hard on yourself, Riku. Being there, after everything else you did for him, is enough. Make sure to take time for yourself too. Though if Sora’s condition deteriorates, do let me know. I’ll see if I have any sort of psychological resource which might help him more than just a standard therapist with no notion of the greater World outside. Hopefully he’ll start to feel more himself once he settles back down.

This… very brief death occurrence you were referring to intrigues me. What was all that about? Fortunately it seems to not have stuck, but regardless, I felt my heart jump into my throat when I read it.

The others have been asking after you, Ansem especially. He says to “send his regards” and I promise it’s friendlier than it sounds.

I wonder, do you have sea salt ice cream where you are? It’s the height of summer and Scrooge McDuck is out. None of my cohorts here are willing to share. It’s been war.

Craving sea salt,

Ienzo

---

To the insatiable sweet tooth--

No, as a matter of fact, we do not have that particular sea salt ice cream here. If we want it, we have to go off-world. There are other, more native flavors which you might like, like dragon fruit or star fruit. (It’s mostly fruit. Sorry, we’re islanders.)

Sora seems to be doing a little bit better. Roxas, Xion, and them came to visit, which seemed to brighten his spirits, or at least distract him. Sometimes he still stares off into the distance and he’s not quite as chatty. This is going to take a long time.

As for the death thing… well, part of why Sora disappeared was because he went back in time to save us after the dark prophecy was fulfilled and the Demon Tide killed us… apparently. Even I can’t keep it all straight in my head, and it happened to me. He changed the flow of time to save us, and “abusing” the power of waking to save Kairi was the final straw. I… don’t like thinking about it much. It makes me feel sick.

Mundane life feels weird. I do chores around the house, and I mow lawns for some pocket change. Can you imagine it? The magic would make it easy, but it also unsettles people, so I do it with a mower. I had to go to social services to get an ID and we waited in line for two. Hours. I almost went insane. But at least it no longer has the awful picture it did when I started high school.

Speaking of, mom wants me to re-enroll right away, and dad wants me to do night school and speed through a general high school degree. I’m not sure how I feel about it, honestly. Kairi and Sora are excited, and I think it’ll be good for them. Maybe I’ll take a year, or do it online, or something. Though I’m sad to say my computer literacy isn’t nearly as good as yours.

How are you feeling in the castle? It must be summer for you guys there, too, though I imagine there aren’t beaches or anything. I didn’t see any. Do you have any summer activities? Or do you just sit in the library with a moldering old paperback all day?

Gainfully employed,

Riku

---

Dear Riku,

Thank you for satisfying my curiosity about that experience. I knew time travel was a factor in Sora’s disappearance--but I didn’t think it went like that for all of you. Terrifying. Awful.

A fantastic way to start a correspondence.

To answer the question… no, there are no “beaches” in terms of ocean beaches, but when I was a boy Radiant Garden did have springs on the far edges of town, as well as public pools. I was not allowed to go to them much--Even was rather neurotic--but yes, they do exist. Did exist. The restoration committee has it on their very, very long list. The paths down to the springs probably need some maintenance.

That is to say, when not in the lab I am sweating and thinking of cooler days. Though I know this might feel borderline chilly for you. Indifference to temperature is one of the few things on my waning list of what I miss from being a Nobody.

I’m glad you have some way to fill your days… that, and the idea of you working outside appeals to me. I imagine it must bore you.

I don’t spend ALL of my days in the library. Just most of them, lately, as am still trying to get this place even the slightest bit organized. If I had the resources I’d digitize everything. It’d make life so much easier. But I am one person with one computer and there are thousands upon thousands of books here. As a boy I used to have the fantasy of reading all of them before I turned eighteen. But, alas, that has not happened, and some of the texts are too boring, or in another language, or are too fragile to be handled. I clearly had very interesting ideas of leisure.

I still have not been able to get my hands on any decent ice cream.

Unsatisfied,

Ienzo

---

Ienzo,

I wanted to talk about this earlier but I had to get things settled in terms of my room. (Long story. Not a fun story.) Would you ever consider visiting? I could come get you. My parents are okay with it. In fact, they for some reason link you with me coming home, which I guess is true. You did help us get the clue Kairi needed. Either way, you’ve already made a good impression.

(If it’s not clear, I miss you.)

I can take you to a real beach. Show you around, not that there’s a whole lot to see. A change of scenery might be nice. Sora and Kairi want to hang out, too. Sora says hi.

If you’re busy, of course, I can come to you. But I know you’ve been there a long time, and there’s not always good memory there.

No pressure. Let me know.

Riku

---

Riku,

I think you may be on the right track with a change of scenery. I’m afraid what little wit I had left me, and when I was explaining to the others I’d like to visit, it became clear very quickly that our relationship is more than surface level. For that, I’m sorry.

However… the more I think about it, the more appealing it is. Even doing nothing--with you--is better than sitting here doing nothing by myself.

That is to say I miss you too.

I can be ready whenever is most convenient. I’m sorry for making you come all this way, though.

Ienzo

---

Ienzo,

Please, the flight will give me a few hours’ of peace and quiet. It’s been great spending all this time with friends and family, but… I feel kind of suffocated sometimes. Besides, I better keep my piloting skills in tip-top shape. Sora’s mad that I’m better at it than him. What can I say, it’s one of my many natural talents. Along with gardening, apparently.

Bring light clothes; it’s HOT here. And sunscreen. I mean it.

Looking forward to seeing you, and talking to you, in person.

Yours, Riku

#give/take #ienzoku #ienzo/riku #ienzo #riku #ienzo is trans

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sometimesiwriteangst · 6 years ago

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I Don’t Want To Die (It’s Three AM)

Summary: Deceit’s struggling, and even if he wants to be helped, he can’t bring himself to do it.

It’s three am and Deceit is tired. He forgot his medication, and he regrets it. Or, he thinks he should. He should regret not taking it, because it makes the pain worse, makes the memories play on loop, makes him stop sleeping.

He doesn’t want to sleep though. His heart races, flashes of faces leaning over him cross his mind when he closes his eyes. His present is empty but his head won’t let him stop.

He wonders how the others would feel about his medication. The post it notes hiding and correcting the flaws in his art, the out of proportion eyes, the wonky hands, the bad perspective.

He glances at his sketchbook, feeling the urge to draw, to paint, create. He could show the twins, show them that he appreciates their work, show that they inspire him.

He reaches over, opens it slowly, glancing at the vibrant pastels, the dull grey marker, the incomplete works he abandoned last month.

The urge is there, but his hand shakes when he lifts the pen, and he changes his mind, throwing it aside and trying to sleep again.

It’s three am and Deceit is fed up of hearing Virgil next door, music still playing from the other resident insomniac. He can’t bring himself to cry when Virgil is so close by, in case he’s heard, in case his ex-friend comes to ask what’s wrong.

He holds his breath, rolls over and buries his head under a pillow, clenching and unclenching his fists, hissing quietly to himself that he needs to sleep, needs to rest, needs to keep going, for Thomas.

He doesn’t linger on what he means, closing his eyes and picturing smooth pixels on multiply, pastel painted dots below line art.

He falls asleep to the thought of what his art could be, and wakes up with the idea now distant in his head.

It’s three am and Remus is there, talking about things Deceit enjoys, whilst Deceit tries to be patient. Whilst he tries to tell himself that he should enjoy being with his friends, that it’s good to have company when he feels so low.

“Did you take your medication?” Remus asks suddenly, and Deceit shrugs.

“I think so,” he lies, knowing there’s six days of tablets he’s forgotten to take, too busy trying and failing to sleep to remember to take them. Too busy trying to live day to day.

“You should check-”

“I mean, I did,” he lies again, charcoal lines smudging, the black grinding harsh, sticking to his hands and bleeding slow, “don’t worry, I know I need to take them.”

Remus looks unconvinced, but Deceit smiles, shows him a warm colour palette, and Remus drops it, onto the next subject, unaware of how desperately Deceit just wants to be alone.

And it’s five am but he can’t sleep, can’t think, can’t make, can’t lie, but he’s tired and wonders what it’s like to destroy a piece of art in progress.

It’s three am and he doesn’t know why he’s looking at a cheery vision, a patchy impressionist painting reminiscent of Roman’s ideas.

“I’m Dr Emile Picani!” the fuzzy vision says with a grin, “I think Thomas is trying to design my character a bit more for the next Cartoon Therapy.”

Deceit blinks slowly. Right. Dr Picani the therapist. How ironic, coming across him in his current state.

“Can you actually help people?” he asks, unsure of how long the idea will be around for.

“I believe so! What do you need?”

“...I need...I need...”

Over saturated watercolours drip down the page.

“I need you to...to help me...stay alive...”

The idea looks confused, and Deceit continues, the empty vision the only thing he can say the words aloud to.

“Because...I don’t want to die.”

He thought when he said it (a truth, a lie, two inks bleeding together) it’d be loud and angry and distraught, tears and confessions and desperation. Deep slashes through layers of still drying oil.

But instead it’s simple, defeated, tired. Less oil built up on canvas, more scratches of biro on graph paper. Less Renaissance, more tired high school student.

The idea frowns, tilting it’s head and adjusting it’s glasses.

“Why would you die?” it asks, and Deceit doesn’t have a response.

He doesn’t want to die. He wants to die. He can’t die. He can fade. He wants to fade. He doesn’t want to fade. Framed prints behind glass behind velvet curtains.

“You should talk to someone more real than me,” the idea says softly, and Deceit shrugs.

“There’s nothing more real than us right now,” he replies, glancing around the empty room, and when he looks back the idea is gone.

Art is brief and fleeting, and his canvas bleeds, silvery watercolour dripping down unsuitable paper, leaving wrinkles in its wake.

It’s three am and his phone is beeping, one of the others asking him why he’s still online, ignoring the perfect irony. He regrets them knowing his tumblr account, regrets them seeing his trauma, seeing his pain laid out in perfect black and white photographs.

He reaches out, opens up the app, glances at Roman’s messages, sees the days of notifications he’s been ignoring.

U ok? Not seen you recently.

He wants to reach out, call for help, tell him he’s lonely and sad and hurting and god he doesn’t want to die, if only because he’s scared and Thomas needs him still.

I’m not doing so well, Roman. I really want to die.

He deletes the message, deciding not to send it. He doesn’t want to be vulnerable, paint so carefully laid out, still wet, still easy to smudge. He doesn’t want them to worry, he doesn’t want to admit to the pain, he doesn’t want to die but he doesn’t want to live.

Sorry, being antisocial lol. I’m fine. U?

He chucks his phone away and buries himself back under blankets, knowing he’s only postponing his final message.

It’s three am and he knows he’s messing up. He knows he needs to take his medication, needs to eat, needs to talk, tell people he’s struggling.

He forgets to talk Thomas out of thinking of his existential crisis, and Thomas is still awake, living proof that Deceit keeps failing even when all he has to do is his one job. Lie, keep lying, keep Thomas alive, healthy, keep him fighting.

Bristles fall out of brushes when you leave them in water long enough, and it damages the canvas, leaves bits of paintbrush in the art.

He looks to his sketchbook, gathering dust, and wonders what the point would be any more. He can’t complete anything, he has no skill. He’s not designed to create, not designed to be passionate, he’s designed to lie.

He can’t get rid of the faces, and he can’t sketch them out, show them simply to the others, can’t word them, the thoughts, the images, like an old worn out film on repeat.

“Sorry, Thomas,” he mumbles, and rolls over, trying to sleep.

It’s three am but Patton is sat with him, asking him why he won’t sleep, asking him why he looks so ill, asking him questions Deceit can’t answer, doesn’t want to answer.

“We’ll help you if you need anything,” the moral side tells him, and his eyes are so hopeful, dusky watercolours lined with ink, soft but sharp, “you know that, right?”

And oh, Deceit knows. He knows they’d help, wants to ask for the help, but he doesn’t, and he can’t explain why. He nods and lies his way out of the interrogation, getting Patton to leave, and tries to ignore the way his heart stings at his self imposed isolation.

His room is empty and devoid of the passion he thinks he could have. But it feels so full, full to the brink of long gone shadows, the past weighing in like a thick fog, clouding his head until he falls to the floor in silent tears, not daring to be loud, not daring to let Patton know how much it hurts.

He’s struggling, a shaky sketch doomed to be scrapped, and still all he knows is that he doesn’t want to die.

He doesn’t know what time it is, but the other sides have sat him down, firing questions at him. What is he doing, how is he doing, what does he need, why is he ignoring them?

“Don’t you want to get better?” Logan asks, as if it’s ever been that simple.

Deceit reaches for an answer, an explanation, hesitating between stubs of oil pastel and harsh messy chalk on black paper. But whatever he does, the piece is too abstract and surreal for an explanation to take form in his voice.

“Deceit, we don’t get why you’re doing this to yourself,” Virgil says, struggling with the words, as if Deceit knows any more than he does.

“We’re here to help,” Roman adds, “we just need to know how.”

The canvas is tearing at the seams. Deceit hates when his canvas’ tear. He can’t hide it, even with all the collage and mixed media in the world, watching it bend out of shape.

“I want to get better,” he says, a truth, drops of ink in calligraphy pens.

“Then tell us how we can help!” Patton pleads.

And Deceit shakes his head, head blurry and unsure of how to explain. He doesn’t know how, he doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t believe they can help push out the voices of the past.

(The sketch is still there underneath the line art.)

He doesn’t know what time it is, but he’s scared, and he doesn’t want to die.

“I could kill you,” the past taunts him, sly and low and echoing through his ears.

He doesn’t want to die any more than he did back then.

He doesn’t know what time it is, but he’s run out of colour, and you can only paint a canvas black for so long before you scrap it altogether.

#might get a second part #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #i hate that tag #suicidal thoughts #deceit angst #angst #the others try to help #implied past trauma #implied self harm #insomnia #bad imagery #sanders sides

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