Detectiveruebennett - Lee

Just wanted to post something that's been bugging me but. Where the fuck are the Black History Month posts?

Valentine's Day got to trend and flood my dash, and that's just a day.

Aromantic Week got to trend and flood my dash, and that's just a week.

But this entire month I've only heard Black History Month in passing. I've only really seen other black people on this site in passing.

And before you say "oh check the tag!" Buddy I shouldn't have to. You don't have to "check the tag" on Pride Month. You don't have to "check the tag" on Valentine's Day. What makes Black History Month different?

I don't know if anyone is even going to see this but. Jfc I feel like the only black person here sometimes.

set me free | sam wilson

summary: it is said that your skin will regenerate itself approximately every 27 days. although, that may be true... it's been two years. why doesn't it feel like it?

pairing(s): sam wilson x teen!black!reader [ minor natasha romanoff x teen!black!reader as well ]

warning(s): talks of sexual assault, panic attack

genre: angst, hurt/comfort words: 2,278

authors note: IF THE TOPIC OF SEXUAL ASSAULT IS TRIGGERING PLEASE DO NOT READ!!! the parts that are in italics are flashbacks to reader's nightmare. the flashback doesn't go into detail of the reader's SA, only Sam comforting them about the nightmare. this is a vent fic is based on my experience as a SA survivor. i use writing as a way of coping and stuff. it's free therapy. i've been sitting on this fic for over a year debating on if i wanted to post it and finally finished it. the ending is kinda rushed tho.

Two years ago, you died. Well, not physically. You were still breathing and everything. But that was when your innocence had retired. You never told anyone when it first happened. You were too scared of the consequences. And, by the time you hadn't, it seemed too late to speak up, in your opinion. There was nothing anyone could do now. He already ruined you. So, you just let it be.

Eventually, you learned from Sam and Natasha that your uncle was arrested for multiple charges of sexual assault. You were immediately overwhelmed with tears at the announcement, for you finally felt free. You began to laugh as well. The pair were quite confused as they watched you laugh and cry. A weight lifted off your shoulders that day as you finally could admit what he did to you. Sam suggested speaking up, but you were still very fearful of even being in the same room as him. It didn't matter that you'd be protected during the trials; the thought of it made you sick.

You still get nightmares from time to time. Sometimes, they were manageable. Other times, they were not. Last night, it seemed like luck was not on your side. You didn't get much sleep due to how bad this one was.

~~

It felt too real as if he was watching in the shadows of your room. FRIDAY alerted Sam due to the spike in your vitals. You'd awakened in a state of panic. You sat in a pool of sweat as your heart pounded in your head.

Sam busted through the door in a frenzy. He hadn't noticed his mistake until you frantically hurried out of bed toward the widow bites on the desk. You trembled in the corner of the room as you pointed the weapon toward him. Sam lifted his hands as he attempted to persuade you to put the weapon down. "It's okay. You aren't there anymore. You're safe," he assured. "You can drop it. It's okay." He stayed in that spot, repeating those phrases until you lowered the weapon.

Finally, the widow bites hit the ground. You drop down along with it. Slowly, Sam takes a couple of steps toward you. Knowing you were still startled, he squatted down to your level to make himself less of a threat. He kept some distance between you, instructing FRIDAY to turn on the lights. "You're safe. I'm here. It's okay." You quivered in fear. Although you saw Sam before you, you only heard your uncle's voice -- the monster who took advantage of you. Your mind was playing tricks on you. "Breathe with me, yeah? Ready? One, two, three, four…." You obeyed his instructions.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Soon enough, your breathing went back to normal. Your sobs shift to hiccups and periodic sniffling. Sam waited for you to settle more before questioning, "Is it okay if I move closer?" He didn't want to set you off again.

You nod.

"Are you sure?" 

You swallowed. "Yes," you whispered with a croaky voice. 

Carefully, Sam scoots to sit beside you. He makes a point of keeping some space between you. You sit in silence for a while. He wants you to take control of the situation. He doesn't want you to feel pressured to talk. You recognized the silent act and appreciated him dearly.

"I… I thought I saw him." You glanced up at Sam; your voice was low, shaky. You pointed to the corner adjacent to you. "H-He was right there." Sam doesn't speak. He held out his hand as a silent invitation of reassurance. His eyes and the expression on his face held sympathy. You clutch his hand like your lifeline.

"He can't reach you anymore." Those five words caused a loud sob to escape. Sam pulled you onto his lap and nestled you as you let it all out. He couldn't prevent the tears from falling. Sam hated that this happened to you. No one deserves to feel manipulated and violated.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." 

You sat there for who knows how long. Waves of grief and pain danced throughout the room as both of you cried. Sam grieved with you as you wept over the loss of who you once were. Truthfully, he felt responsible for what happened to you. The man wished that he was there to protect you that night.

He hadn't noticed that you'd fallen asleep until he heard the sound of soft snores. Guessing that you wouldn't want to sleep in your bedroom for the rest of the night, Sam slowly maneuvered himself to carry you to his room instead. Sam spotted your teddy bear in his peripheral vision as he approached the door and grabbed it before walking down the corridors. Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about waking anyone else in the Compound because only You, Sam, and Natasha lived on this floor. As far as Sam knew, Natasha was still visiting her sister, Yelena, in Ohio.

Once he settled you in his bed, Sam made himself a makeshift bed on the floor at the end of the bed. Sam knew you'd end up scolding him in the morning for doing so, but he didn't care. He checked his phone for the time and noticed a message.

Message from Nat:

Hey. Friday alerted me that [Name] had a nightmare again. My flight isn't for another hour, but I'll be there before she wakes up. I know you've got them, so I'm not too worried. Update me tomorrow :)

Delivered at 2:35 a.m.

I finally got her back to bed. This one seemed much worse. I'll tell you more in the morning. Have a safe flight, Nat

Delivered at 3:56 a.m.

Sam checked up on you again before allowing himself to fall back asleep. "Sweet dreams, [Name]."

~~

As you wake up, the scent of lavender and pine trees greets you. From beneath you, you can hear Sam snoring. Usually, you'd scold him for the potential back pain he'd experience later. But you were too exhausted today to do so. Despite your body's protests, your brain determines you are better off continuing your education. Some of you believe that connecting with friends will lift your mood. So you try not to wake up Sam and sneak back to your room to prepare for the day.

You were better off staying at home. 

The school hours are a blur. You lack self-control. You are not present mentally. You've detached yourself from everything. You were tired of your peers and those who didn't know you well. You wrote your exhaustion off as pulling an all nighter, which wasn’t too much of a lie in your eyes. That was your explanation when confronted with your unusual behavior. Most people bought it. It took more sway from Peter, Ned, and Michelle. They stopped bothering you after you assured them you were okay, though you still occasionally felt some concern. When the day is done, you are overwhelmed by the amount of skin you would brush up against while walking through the hallways to your next destination. You're quick to pack your belongings and rush out of the building. You don't bother to say goodbye to your friends.

A black Corvette Stingray awaits you just outside the school's main entrance. "Hey, Solnishko," Natasha says as you enter the car. When you questioned Natasha one day during your training session, she explained that it meant "little sun." She described you as having a bright and fiery essence, similar to the sun. And you became her little sun from then on. However, her little sun isn't shining as bright as usual today.  

The term endearment makes you smile but doesn't reach your eyes. Natasha doesn't comment on your gloomy disposition.

"Hi," you reply. "How was your trip?" The upbeat tone you desire does not come through. As Natasha drives away, you concentrate on the blurry scenery outside the window. You cringe internally at your lack of enthusiasm. Even though small talk is the last thing you want to do right now, you last saw Natasha a while ago. You were missing her presence.

"It was great. Later, I'll fill you in on everything." Only a murmur is returned, so the redhead ends the conversation there. The only sound on the return trip home is the radio playing at a low volume.

Natasha knows that you're not yourself. Your body language reeks of detachment. She doesn't take offense to the lack of expression you offer her. Sam gave her the run-down of last night's events once you left for school. She sees herself in you, and it pains her. The same drained look in her eyes after the memory of the past that Natasha pleaded to any god who would listen to escape. She knows how it feels to have her body controlled in such a terrible way - Innocence that was snatched away without any consent. It upset her terribly, but the most she can do is comfort you in any way she can. 

Once you enter the Compound, she guides you to her room, knowing that you usually find solace in her bed compared to your own. "Do you want to talk about it?" You still stand at the edge of her bed, arms crossed against your chest as comfort. She sits with her back against the headboard, waiting for you to make a move yourself. She waits patiently for you as you ponder whether you want to relive the nightmare again. You crawl over to the opposite side of the bed and lie so your head rests in her lap. "You know, I was talking with Bruce the other day, and he told me our skin regenerates itself every 27 days," you say as she caresses your cheek. "It's been two years, Tasha; why can I still feel him?" Your voice cracks as the tears you've been fighting away resurface.

Natasha's throat runs dry at your words. She wants nothing more than to harm the man that hurt you. Of course, there isn't a time limit when it comes to healing from trauma, but she hates that this still affects you so profoundly to this day. "I don't know, Solnishko," she whispers. She's at a loss for words. She knows nothing she says will immediately take away the pain you experience. "I'm sorry I can't take the grief away, sweetheart. If I could, I'd do it in a heartbeat." 

"I know. But your presence is enough for me." You bask in each other's comfort for a while. "Is Sam still home?" 

"Yeah, did you want to see him?" she asks, and you nod in response. 

"Okay. Hey Friday?" she calls to the Artificial Intelligence. "Can you tell Sam to come to my room, please?"

"Of course, Ms. Romanoff," the AI replies after a beat.

After a few minutes, a knock sounds at her door. Granting the man entrance, Natasha gestures to the teen in her lap, who has their eyes closed. "Hi, honey," Sam greets them as he nears the edge of the bed. Slightly opening your eyes at the sound of his voice, you grin. "Hi, Sammy," you whisper. 

"How are you feeling now?" He asks you. Observing your face, he can see signs of exhaustion in your eyes. 

"Very drained," you admit. "But a little better now that both of you are here." As much as you love everyone on the team and have a strong connection with them, you've always been more connected to Sam and Natasha for some reason. And the two of them love you like their own. They both smile softly at that. 

"How about we all take a nap, yeah? And then we can go out for dinner later?" Natasha suggests, looking at Sam for his thoughts on the suggestion. 

He nods. "Sounds good to me. Is that okay with you?" He asks you for confirmation.

You nod in agreement. With a yawn from you, you all situate yourselves on Natasha's bed. Sam and Natasha lay on opposite ends, with you in the middle. They wait until your breath evens out before speaking quietly. "I might call the school tomorrow to excuse her. She needs a day for herself." Sam tells the redhead. 

"Yeah, she needs it. Maybe we could plan an outing with the team for her." She kisses your forehead, brushing your braids out of your face. "Or just with us, depending on how she's feeling in the morning." 

Sam nods at the idea and closes his eyes; Natasha follows suit. And for a while, it's quiet until he says, "You know, you'd make an incredible mother, Nat." The statement causes Natasha to open her eyes again and look at Sam. He knows the subject of motherhood is a touchy one, given her background, but he can't help but admit it. He honestly does believe his friend would be the best parent. "Thank you. You know, you wouldn't make too bad of a father yourself, Wilson. You already have the terrible dad jokes downpacked," she says with a light chuckle. 

He sucks his teeth. "They not that bad."

She smirked lazily as the jet lag from the mission caught up to her. "Everyone else begs to differ." 

"You think they'll be okay?" Sam asks as he stares at the sleeping teen between them. 

"They always do. They have us in their corner to guide them," she reminds him, and he nods in agreement. If you were anything like either of them, you wouldn't let this throw you off track forever. You always bounce back from whatever obstacles life throws at you. With that, they fall asleep with a heaviness in their hearts for you, but they know you'll be alright. 

i swear everything that i see is something i don't wanna see but need to

Can I be honest with you?

I seriously went to other people to ask how I should approach you. I don’t even know who I fucking am anymore. I’ve always been a “talk about it” or “if you wanna know, ask” kind of person. Blunt. Straight. To the point. But I’ve been so scared I might be pushing you away, so petrified by the idea that I might come on too strong, that I started playing all these silly little games. I fucking hate staring at my phone wanting nothing more than to talk to you, but holding back because “it hasn’t been a whole day yet” or because I’m “waiting for you to text first.” Fuck. That. I like you; maybe a little more than I’d like to admit. I want to go out and experience new things with you. See you smile and laugh while we make stupid little jokes to each other. I want to learn what makes you tick. What your deepest fears are. What your biggest passions are. I want to prove to you that you mean more to me than just some repository for attention. If that scares you away, then fine. If you don’t feel comfortable with that yet, that’s okay. I can’t force you to like me. But at least I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing that I put my best foot forward. That I wore my heart on my sleeve, and no one had to guess how I feel. I’m done playing these stupid fucking games.

(J)

the way they really had me up at 5am to take a 3 and half hour test bruh... my act score better be good too

Can You Feel the Love Tonight? (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Summary: You should have known to be suspicious when Yelena and Kate planned a karaoke night. And even more suspicious that since they figured out your crush on a certain redheaded Avenger.

When Yelena and Kate first told you about their idea of a team karaoke night you should have known to be suspicious. The fact that they planned something without you should have been the first warning sign. That paired with the fact that your best friends weren’t the type to recommend something like this out of the blue.

Sure, they weren’t exactly the most predictable pair, but your mind worked like theirs so you usually caught on to their motives. You usually didn’t usually have to figure out much since all their plans heavily included you as the third and final member of the trio. None of those thoughts ever occurred to you though. Not even when Yelena informed you it was mandatory you go or when Kate threatened to withhold visits with Lucky if you were even a second late.

In hindsight, it was naive.

If you could have seen the mischievous glint in their eyes, you would have easily said no. Unfortunately, your mind had been otherwise occupied by a certain redheaded Avenger these days and the confusing feelings you felt course through your veins every time she so much as walked by you.

Much to your friends annoyance you had begun spending more time with her instead of dedicating all your time to the mischief you often found yourself getting into with them.

It started with a solo mission with Wanda and from there a friendship blossomed and maybe a bit more if you were being honest. Not that you told anyone, especially your best friends because you knew they would tease you mercilessly.

That was how you found yourself at said karaoke night, blissfully unaware of what your friends had up their sleeves.

With the night in full swing, you were sitting with Wanda, completely entranced in one of her stories and the hand she kept hovering over your own before she would pull it away. Almost as if she always thought better of bridging the gap between you - a physical and invisible barrier keeping you safely at arms distance regardless of what you did.

The conversation you were having with the Sokovian woman was drawn to a halt when a certain speedster Avenger wedged himself in between you both. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite couple.” He drawled casually, wrapping his arms around you both with a lazy smile. “Are you ready to sing?”

Your gaze immediately fell to the cup in your hands and you could feel even the tips of your ears heat up in embarrassment at Pietro’s implication.

“We’re just friends.” Wanda quickly insisted, shoving her brother off the couch, not that it bothered him in the slightest as he laughed. “Go away, Pietro.”

With a mocking salute, Pietro said, “If you say so, sestra. See you in a bit.” He winked before quickly disappearing in a blur before you could ask any questions. A second later you saw him across the room speaking casually with Monica.

“Sorry about him. He speaks without thinking.” Wanda apologized, again reaching for your hand but pulling back at the last second. Instead choosing to smile warmly at you.

You shook your head and tried not to focus on the sting of how quickly Wanda had shut down Pietro’s words. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve been told.” You replied, nudging Wanda playfully. “In fact, I would be honored.”

Wanda shook her head and nudged you back lightly. “I don’t think people pairing me with you would be an honor.” She confessed.

The insecurity in her voice made your brows furrow. “Why?”

Her shoulders lifted slightly as she ducked her head, almost as if she was embarrassed by the words she was about to say. “I have a pretty questionable past and you… You’re nothing like that. You haven’t made the mistakes I have. You’re good.”

An ache appeared in your chest with how lowly she thought of herself. You reached out and bridged the final gap, your hand over Wanda’s in what you hoped was a comforting manner. “If only you could see yourself through my eyes, Wanda.”

Her gaze lifted with your words, her expression vulnerable. “And how do you see me?”

As you prepared the words in your mind, the sound of a speaker screeching made you wince and turn to find the source of the sound. Your brows furrowed at the sight of your two best friends on the makeshift stage with suspicious smiles on both of their faces.

“Hi! If we could please have everyone’s attention.” Kate began, enthusiastically tapping the mic.

The room around you kept chattering though and Yelena stepped forward, yanking the mic out of Kate’s hand. “Everyone shut up.” Yelena threatened, her tone sharp and the immediately room fell into silence. Some from curiosity and others from genuine fear.

“Oh no.” You mumbled, knowing nothing good would come from this.

Both Yelena and Kate met your eyes from across the room and you knew that look. You knew they were up to something and whatever it was would obviously include you. Against your will.

Kate grabbed the mic back from Yelena. “Thank you for coming to our first annual karaoke night! To start the night off, Yelena and I want to dedicate the first song of the night to our best friend, Y/n.”

You immediately covered your face with your hands as every set of eyes turned to watch you. “Oh, nooooo.” You groaned out.

Wanda tapped your shoulder curiously. “Is everything okay? Your best friends are dedicating a song to you.” She questioned, her brows furrowed in confusion.

Rubbing at your forehead, you peaked an eye open to see Kate blow you a kiss and Yelena wink. “That’s probably not a good thing.” You stood, “Maybe I’ll just come back when it’s over.”

Before you could even take a step though you heard Yelena say, “Sit your ass back down, Y/n. If you leave we tell the New Year's eve story.” She threatened with a teasing glint in her eyes.

The threat made you sit back down immediately. “What happened on New Year's Eve?” Wanda questioned with an amused smile.

For the first time all night, you were grateful for the sound of your friend's voice preventing you from speaking further. Saving you the embarrassment of telling Wanda that story. “Hit it, Pietro.” Kate said, pointing at the blonde who was now suddenly at the karaoke machine.

A second later a familiar melody filled the air and you groaned again. “Wait, I know this song.” Wanda exclaimed with a cute smile. “I really like this movie.”

Weakly, you mustered a nod and watched with bated breath as your friends began to sing. “I can see what’s happening.” Yelena began.

“What?” Kate continued, pretending to look confused.

“And they don’t have a clue.” Yelena continued.

Kate looked around, as if she wasn’t sure what was going on. “Who?”

Yelena wrapped an arm around Kate’s shoulder dramatically and gestured in your direction. “They’ll fall in love and here’s the bottom line, our trio’s down to two.”

The archer's shoulders dropped as if she was disappointed. “Oh.”

If this all wasn’t directed at you, exposing your secret crush then you were sure you would have thought it was hilarious, but sitting next to Wanda, it felt like you were watching a car crash.

“The sweet caress of twilight.” Yelena cooed in a faux French accent.

“There’s magic everywhere.” Kate added with a wiggle of her fingers to mimic Wanda and you wanted to die.

“And with all this romantic atmosphere…” Yelena trailed off.

Together they wailed, “Disaster’s in the air!”

For a moment you thought that was the end of it until Natasha and Pietro suddenly appeared, each holding mics as they made their way over to you. “Can you feel the love tonight? The peace the evening brings.” Natasha sang.

Pietro continued, “The world for once in perfect harmony. With all its living things.”

As the final melody fell from Pietro’s lips, they both stopped in front of both you and Wanda, the mics being held in front of you in offering.

“Really?” You questioned, looking at Natasha in betrayal.

“Sorry, kid. They made compelling arguments.” Natasha said with a shrug when she saw the disbelief on your face. You couldn’t believe they had roped her into it too.

Pietro just shrugged, “I did what I had to do. Besides, I’m also a wonderful singer. Your turn now.”

“No.” You said flatly.

A moment later you could hear Kate and Yelena start a chart of your name, the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, encouraging you to sing the next line. Your palms began to sweat as you eyed the offending item, but much to your surprise, Wanda took the mic from Pietro’s hand, her cheeks red.

Her gaze fell to her lap but a moment later you heard the sweet sound of her voice fill the room making your heart stutter in your chest. “So many things to tell her. But how to make her see?” Wanda looked up and met your eyes and your breath caught in your throat. “The truth about my past? Impossible. She’d turn away from me.”

Numbly you could feel Natasha nudge the mic in your hand. With a racing heart, you continued the song, never breaking eye contact with Wanda. “She’s holding back, she’s hiding. But what, I can’t decide.” You reached out and took Wanda’s hand again. “Why won’t she be the hero I know she is. The hero I see inside?”

Wanda sent a shy smile your way and you returned it easily, feeling your heartbeat thundering in your ears as you tried to process exactly what happened. The gentle pat on your shoulder from Natasha, the mics being taken back by both her and Pietro - it all faded into the background because Wanda was looking at you with something completely new in her eyes.

Wanda was looking at you the way you had always looked at her. The way you dreamed she would.

You were always thankful for your idiot best friends but you had never been more thankful for them then in that moment. Even when your four friends gathered on stage to belt out the chorus one final time.

“Can you feel the love tonight? The peace the evening brings. The world for once, in perfect harmony, with all its living things.” They chorused, swaying together in place, their smiling faces observing you and Wanda. You felt warmth blossom in your chest for the love you had for your friends even if they loved embarrassing you. “Can you feel the love tonight? You needn’t look too far. Stealing through the night’s uncertainties. Love is where they are.”

A smile overcame your features when you felt Wanda squeeze your hand in her own, your heart fluttered even more intensely.

The sweet moment was interrupted when Yelena and Kate took hold of the mics again and stepped forward. You shook your head in anticipation knowing that they were back to being ridiculous.

“And if she falls in love tonight, it can be assumed...” Yelena began with an over dramatic pout.

Kate wiped at an invisible tear as she continued, neither of their eyes ever leaving you and their act never wavering in the slightest. “Her carefree days with us are history.”

Once again, they wrapped their arms around one another and wailed, “In short, our pal is doomed.”

Unable to help yourself, you burst out into laughter, tears coming out of your eyes from the absurdity of it all. They were idiots, but damn it. You loved those idiots. Wanda seemed to be amused herself as you could see her laughing out of the corner of your eye, the force of it shaking her shoulder.

“Hey, Y/Ln! We expected a standing ovation!” Yelena called out, breaking character.

“We just poured our heart and soul out to you,” Kate said in a mock offended tone. “And all you can do is laugh?”

Wanda’s laughter tapered off slightly. “Are they drunk?”

You shook your head and gave your friends the standing ovation they had requested. “No, they’re just idiots.”

“We heard that!” Kate shouted from her place on stage while Yelena flipped you off.

Shrugging, you smiled. “You were supposed to.” You replied, “But I love you idiots!”

“We love you too!” They cooed back. “Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” Your friends began chanting, the rest of the team joining in with laughter.

Again, you could feel the tips of your ears heat up as you glazed nervously over at Wanda who looked just as embarrassed as you. “I can tell them to stop.” You said sheepishly.

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve been told.” Wanda answered playfully, repeating your earlier words back to you. “In fact, it would be an honor.”

With a deep breath, you leaned forward and connected your lips to the woman you had dreamed of for months and nothing had even felt more right. The only thing that made you pull away was the soft flick on your forehead.

“You can thank us now.” Yelena said smugly, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Kate nodded in agreement. “We are clearly the best wingwoman of all time and you are forever indebted to us.”

Yelena and Kate wrapped an arm around each other in celebration as they watched you and Wanda. Having an idea, you looked over at Wanda and she seemed to understand you right away, “Can you feel the love tonight?” You both began to sing in unison, pleased smiles on both of your faces as you watched Yelena and Kate turn bright red.

And that is all folks! This is fic 1/4 that will be posted today in honor of my one year of posting my writing on tumblr! This is also loosely inspired by a tiktok I saw but I lost the link. Thoughts and comments always welcome :)

Taglist:

@abimess // @helloalycia // @imapotatao // @madamevirgo // @magicallymaximoff // @women-am-i-right @myfavoriteficss // @spicysashimi // @olsensnpm // @natasha-danvers // @xxxtwilightaxelxxx // @7thavenger // @aimezvousbrahms // @purplemeetsblue // @b0mbdotc0m // @cristin-rjd // @trikruismybitch // @hopelesslyfallenninlove // @when-wolves-howl // @b-5by5 // @mionemymind // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @reminiscingtonight // @nervoustrack //

Is there rly any softer scene than when o'malley sees duchess and falls in love with her at first sight in the aristocats, complimenting her at every turn and climbing into a cherry blossom tree to make the flower petals snow gracefully down on her? How dreamy 🥀💕

how to write relatable characters

writing relatable characters may seem like an easy task, especially when you’re constructing your protagonist. but what if you want to make your antagonist likeable? what if you want people to hate your protagonist but still root for them? all of this and more requires that your characters be relatable. they need to feel real, so how do you do that? here’s how:

- flaws: this is probably obvious. everyone has flaws, so we should give our characters flaws, too. this applies even if your character is non-human; they cannot escape the personification that we as writers or readers project onto them. we are humans reading, so we expect to see human qualities everywhere we look. if you’re having trouble of identifying your character’s flaws, here are some prompts for ways to think about flaws beyond a list:

what skills do they lack? what do they struggle with?

can their strengths be turned against them as a weakness?

what makes them react emotionally or impulsively?

are they aware of their flaws? if so, do they want to improve them or change them?

- quirks: these are what make your character unique or special, and no, i don’t mean purple eyes or unique physical traits. i mean: what makes your character authentically themselves? what traits define them that few others have? some ways to think about this are:

how do they react when nervous? do they have a tell? similarly, how do they react on behalf of any emotion?

what skills do they have that hardly anyone else has?

what obscure thing are they obsessed with?

do they have a unique outlook on life compared to their peers?

- values: these come from life experiences: where we were raised, our family and friends, our community, religious affiliations, etc. i suggest identifying eight to ten values that define your character and then narrowing that list down to five values that mark their core or essence. think about how these values influence their choices, decisions, and ultimately, the plot of the novel. here are some more prompts to think about values:

how do they react when their values are challenged? are they one to speak up or do they sit back in the shadows?

what, if anything, will change or shatter their values?

are their actual values misaligned with their believed values?

- stakes: what is at risk for your character? what is motivating them? stakes don’t need to be over the top or life or death; they can be as simple as maintaining a relationship or reaching a goal. unless there’s an outside influence (ie. percy’s mother being kidnapped in The Lightning Thief), most stakes—especially those relatable—tie back to values. even those influenced by outside factors can tie back to values: the only reason percy is motivated to get his mother back is because he cares for her and she is the one person who has always advocated for him and cared for him. he values family and riordan uses his family to motivate him and incite the plot. generally, there will be one overarching stake for your character, but throughout your novel, there should be several smaller stakes. these may not service the plot but should elaborate on your character nonetheless. some ways to think about stakes include:

how can i use internal or external factors to create convincing, relatable stakes that tie back to basic values?

why does the overarching stake matter to my character? why do they care?

how can i raise the stakes or introduce new ones that are relevant to my character and illustrate them as a relatable being?

- connection: even if your character is an introvert, they will still be connected to someone, something, or even an idea. we, as humans, look to certain people, pets, objects, and ideas to maintain our sense of reality whether we realize it or not. if your character prides themselves in having no attachments, think about the ideas or themes that mark the cornerstones of their reality. most human beings strive for some form of connection, so here are more prompts for thinking about your characters and connection:

what does connection mean to my character? how do they show how they value their connections or relationships?

how does my character’s behavior change when around different connections?

what connections define my character and their reality? how will these connections influence my character and/or the plot?

how will removing or challenging a connection change, influence, or motivate my character?

a good rule of thumb is to treat a character as a human, not a plot device. there is a time or place in which a character must act as a plot device, but if you’re wanting your readers to be compelled by your narration and the characters within them, you should strive to write your characters as human (aka as relatable). one of the greatest pleasures i find in writing is when other’s identify themselves in my writing.

you’re not just here to tell a story, you’re here to connect with others through the illustration of your characters. let the reader navigate your prose as a detective, to search for and identify the evidence provided by you. that is to say, show us how these things manifest in your character. don’t tell us.

happy writing! hopefully this post gave you some ways to start thinking about how to show the relatability of your character. if you have any questions about implementing these tools or about writing characters, our ask box is always open.

time for me to ruminate on these tweets again.