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hiraethwrote · 9 months ago

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your only competition - satoru gojo

[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]

✧ summary: constantly trying to one up each other, youre always at each others throat. swearing you hate the other, neither want to admit that you might enjoy your time spent together. until... ✧ cw: academic rivals, some swearing, poorly written combat scenes (sorry), injuries, mentions of blood, bickering, some angst, slight comfort, no use of y/n, somewhat proofread ✧ word count: 5.0k

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Satoru Gojo was the best, in every sense of the word. Being the first sorcerer in centuries to be born with the Six Eyes definitely counted for something. And so he began to excel well beyond his classmates, fairly enjoying the spotlight that went with his rare abilities. Wasn’t it always nice to get recognition for your achievements? Satoru thought so at least.

Sitting alone at the top, he was sent on solo missions for curses his peers couldn’t face. That was, of course, until the day you showed up. He didn’t know it at the time, but that warm September day you walked into the classroom would be burned into his memory for as long as he’d live.

Everyone’s heads had perked up when an unfamiliar individual had paraded into the classroom, following close behind Yaga. You'd held your head high, hands tucked neatly behind your back while Yaga introduced you as the new student. It had to be a joke, Satoru had thought, a snicker playing on his lips at the sight of you. Gathering as much information as he could just by letting his eyes travel you, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of cursed energy, so why were placed in their class?

Your eyes shined with a childlike innocence, like you were totally unaware of the world you were all living in. One could feel you radiate a sense of hope that only came from being inexperienced. Oh, how hard the harsh reality would hit you once you were faced with what was out there.

After class, Shoko had yanked Satoru back into the classroom by his uniform, her eyebrows furrowed in a strict scowl. “I know what you’re thinking, Satoru.” He stared back at her with big eyes, pretending he didn’t know what she was getting at. “She’s been sheltered, we all saw it. So it’s important you behave!”

“I always behave.” He slumped over as he spoke, appearing more weakly to enforce his dumb act.

“I mean it, Satoru. She’s going to need our help.”

He took his index finger and drew an X over his heart. “You have my word.” His infamous smirk still danced on his lips, which made Shoko not believe him for a second. She knew there wasn’t much she could do if he’d already decided to tease you. With a disappointed shake of the head, she left him standing with his hands in his pockets.

Satoru kept his eye on her until she had turned a corner. The second she was out of sight, he darted in the opposite direction with a clear mission in mind, managing to catch up with you as you were walking down the hall to your dormitory.

“Hey, wait up.” With a curious look, you turned to the source of the voice that called your name. Pacing towards you, was a tall, lanky fellow with locks white as snow, the biggest shit-eating grin you’d seen in a long time, wearing a pair of characteristic sunglasses.

“You must be the one and only Satoru Gojo,” you said, mirroring his expression as you defensively crossed your arms over your chest.

“I see Yaga already told you about me.”

“No, not really,” you shrugged, your tone taking him by surprise. “But it’s not like your name is unknown in our world.”

“So what have you heard about me then?” He bent forward to be on your level, fishing for compliments, making you feel patronised.

“Don’t feel like inflating your ego more. It’s already dangerous walking around with a head big as yours.” Satoru instantly jerked back into a straight position, retrieving his hands from his pockets to regain a more dominant position.

“Well, aren’t you cute,” he said sarcastically.

“Was there something you wanted?”

Looking down on you, he began to wonder if you were putting on a face, intentionally giving off the impression of being reckless and empty headed. Therefore he had started to theorise the bounce in your step didn’t come from being inexperienced; it came from a film belief that you were better than what people gave you credit for.

“It not every day a new sorcerer joins us, so I’m just curious about what makes you special?” The self satisfied smirk was back on his face in order to seem unbothered by your snarky remarks.

“What’s it to you?” Fuck you, was the first thought that crossed his mind when you’d once again, shut him down. You weren’t giving him anything to go on, not verbally or on any level his Six Eyes could detect.

“We’re classmates now. A team — think I could benefit from knowing,” he said gallantly.

“You’ll know soon enough,” you smirked at him as you began to back away towards your room.

His smile slowly faltered, his eyebrows narrowing in frustration. “Good luck.”

“Sure, thanks,” you waved nonchalantly over your shoulder as you entered your room without another word.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, he still couldn’t pin point anything about you. The only logical explanation to having an ignorant demeanour whilst having a sharp tongue would be you were able to fend for yourself. Then why couldn’t he sense any power on you?

But as you’d said, he would find out soon enough. Even as soon as the next day, when you’d all met for sparring. It was like the higher ups had heard his prayers, because he had been paired up against you. His excitement didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who kicked him weakly in the shin to try and smother it.

“You go easy on her, mister,” she’d said so only he was able to hear.

“Don’t worry, Shoko. I’m not cruel. I’ll end it quickly so she won’t humiliate herself too much,.”

Once you were both firmly placed on your respective positions, both with a staff in your hands, he made sure to capture your gaze. “Are you ready for this, sweetheart?” His tone was as sweet as sugar, never breaking the eye contact as you both leaned forward in a bow.

“Are you, sweetheart?” You said, narrowing your eyes at him. He hummed softly at your comment, entertained by the attitude he knew he’d wipe off you the second the sparring started.

After being underestimated for years and years, you'd eventually had no choice but to learn how to use it to your advantage. You leaned into the role of an unintelligent girl who went into every situation without thinking. People became sloppy when they faced you, confident they’d easily take you out.

Satoru was no different. What was worse, was how he didn’t even try to hide how sure he was that you were weak. His smile said it all.

Yaga signalled for you to start, instantly tightening your grip on your staff before striking it directly at him. He was a little startled at how you immediately went for the offensive, but he swiftly dodged the attack just as you had expected. You exploited his dodge, by having the staff spin around before smacking him in the back of the head, stumbling over the foot you had strategically placed in front of him.

Tumbling forward, he finally managed to steady himself only to be faced by Suguru and Shoko standing on the sidelines, both choking back the laughter about to spill out of them. None of the three students had expected you to be so aggressive from the get go, let alone succeed at it.

He shook off the shock, not to mention the pain, from the hit before turning back to look at you. The playfulness had seized to exist and now there was determination written all over him. The corner of your lips perked up in a content smirk.

His staff came piercing through the air, you spun away in the last second before flipping the staff and deflecting his next move, trapping his weapon under yours. You turned to look at him and he didn’t like the mischievous expression plastered on your face.

“What are you playing at?” He asked with a small pant. Your smile only grew at the sight of his frustrated demeanour.

This was the part you loved, the moment you could see it in your opponent’s eyes that they had severely misjudged you. And in their epiphany, you knew they still wouldn’t be able to read you clearly. That being said, you were fighting no other than Satoru Gojo, who even if he couldn’t predict your next move, could be able to take you out regardless.

Suddenly, you felt your staff slip and glide against his. He quickly took advantage of how you’d put your weight on the staff. Before you knew it, you felt the impact of his staff slam against your back.

You found your footing before you reactively threw your elbow at his face. A scoff of surprise slipped out of you when it stopped an inch from his face without him doing anything.

“Asshole,” you breathed. This was the oh-so-famous infinity you had been told about, but you didn’t quite understand it or how it worked. It was no secret that Satoru was well on his way to become the strongest, but he wasn’t there just yet. So maybe you could give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he wasn’t a hundred percent in control of his infinity, that it had been an instinctive reaction.

Nevertheless, it was what you had waited for. You’d wanted him to be the one to resort to his powers first so you could shamelessly use yours.

His breath hitched in his throat when an overwhelming wave of unfamiliar power crashed over him. “What the-“ he didn’t understand what was happening. Was this your power, and why hadn’t he been able to sense it earlier? Had you really been able to block him out from getting insight in your technique?

He didn’t even realise what was happening until he was jerked into the air before slamming against the floor with immense force, landing on his shoulder. The room were quiet for a solid ten seconds before he staggered back on his feet before slow claps in your honour was heard from his friends.

“What the hell was that?” He panted, approaching you with quick steps as his hand rubbed circles on his shoulder.

“That was how you win,” you said in between heavy breaths, leaning your hands on your knees.

“That’s not what I mean,” he nearly growled. Before he was able to interrogate you further, a friendly slap was placed on his back.

“Just admit it, Satoru. She beat you,” Suguru said with a low chuckle. Satoru didn’t even flinch, he kept his gaze pinned on you.

“But you cheated,” he said with a displeased chuckle. You didn’t even entrain his comment, only turning away from him and starting to walk out of the gymnasium. “Hey, I’m talking to you. That last move was dirty.” You heard his footsteps hurry over to you again.

“How’s that?” Snapping around to face him, folding your arms over your chest. “By using my technique? If that’s the case, you’re nose should be bleeding right now.”

With worried eyes, Shoko and Suguru watched your bickering from afar, knowing exactly how this relation was going to play out. The loud argument in the gymnasium was only the beginning of your rivalry. Every person unfortunate enough to witness your public displays of hatred, quickly learned that both you and Satoru were extremely headstrong — maybe stubborn was a better word.

Both of you brought your petty arguing with you into the classroom the first chance you got. It became a never ending competition of who could answer the questions faster. And if the chance offered itself, you would instantly argue with the other person to the best of your ability. No one could tell if you did it to show off who knew the most, or if it was simply to humiliate the other. Either way, it got annoying fast.

Yaga had on several occasions tried to shut down the fighting, but had little success. You would both find one way or another to go at each other anyways. On one occasion, you’d gotten into a fight so bad that Yaga had ordered for the rest of them to leave the room and just let you two hash it out. He’d come back an hour later, only to see through the door crack that you were still going at it. He also saw how Satoru was fighting to let his smugness show, clearly getting a kick out of provoking you until you were red as a tomato.

“Are you really that stupid, Satoru?”

“Please, for the love of all that’s holy, shut up!”

The only place Shoko and Suguru managed to catch a break was during sparring, when they would sneak out for cigarettes the second you and Satoru said the first word to each other.

In every session, neither of you accepted going against anyone but each other. After your first sparring match, Satoru was determined to win the next one, which he did. And how he had won would probably haunt you forever.

You were just about to win yet another match, but it troubled you that Satoru didn’t seem worried about losing. You had the staff pressed against his, sweat dripping down your brow. He was heaving as much as you, but a small smirk was lurking at the corner of his lips.

That’s when he cocked his head forward, revealing the pair of most hypnotising blue eyes you’d ever seen. You had no control of how your muscles relaxed and expression softened. As a soft sigh slipped out of you, he instantly saw his opportunity to down you, knocking the wind out of your lungs when you’d hit the floor.

You'd gone to bed fuming that night, the image of Satoru laughing and teasing you flashing behind your eyelids as you so desperately tried to fall asleep. You were absolutely mortified by the fact that he’d won simply by his appearance; no combat skill, no infinity, no technique, no nothing!

The next morning you got up at the crack of dawn in order to work out and prepare yourself for the next time you’d face him. Never again would you give him the opportunity to embarrass you like that.

Neither is you would probably admit it, but as the training went on, you both learned a lot from each other. Especially when you began to make use of your powers.

Finally you were starting to understand how the most powerful sorcerer functioned, absolutely astonished by the sheer possibility of it. But as you got to know him more, you also so that his powers wouldn’t have been nearly as special if it hadn’t been for Satoru himself. The extraordinary way he so casually carried himself despite of it all, you couldn’t help but admire it. Though you wouldn’t let him know that.

Satoru too, was intrigued by you because it was only during sparring sessions he was able to see what your cursed technique could be capable of. Outside the gymnasium, you kept the cards close to your chest, revealing absolutely nothing about yourself. But in here, you let that shield down. The power you held was so intense, to the point he knew you were definitely holding back on him — just as he was with you.

As the matches got more intense, Suguru and Shoko kept betting the same 1000 yen on who would win. Not only that, they both seemed to notice the growing tension between you, despite the fact that you said you couldn’t stand each other.

And tension there was, as right now. Satoru had his arm around your neck, pressing against your chest. You had your hands tugging on his forearm as your back was pushed up against him. Cursing his name under your breath, you fought the small smile that was sneaking its way onto your face.

The hair on the back of your neck raised when you felt him lean in forward, his hot breath agains your ear before he spoke, “think I like you in this position better.” If you weren’t so focused on trying to beat him, you would probably have paid more attention to the flirtation in his voice.

In a matter of seconds, you benefitted from his playfulness and reversed the roles where you had him pinned against the ground in defeat. “Don’t go soft on me now, Satoru. Ain’t going to be any fun here anymore if you make it too easy.”

“I’m just trying to get in your head.”

“Hmm, funny. Doesn’t seem like it’s working,” you teased before you stood up without offering him a helping hand.

Satoru had his eyes follow you the entire way out of the gymnasium, a genuine smile dancing on his lips. He quickly snapped back to reality when he heard Suguru’s voice.

“Satoru!”

Turning to look at his friends, there was no signs of the smile that was present just a second ago. “What?”

“We called your name like four times!” Neither of them looked pleased, Shoko with her arms crossed over her chest and high shoulders, and Suguru with his hands in his pockets.

“Sorry, was just lost in thought.”

“We can tell,” Shoko sighed as they both began to follow him close behind as he walked for the exit of the gymnasium.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Suguru teased, instantly earning him a tired scoff from Satoru. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious.”

“Give it a rest.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s a menace. You know I think so.”

“Yeah? Could have fooled us,” he shrugged in response.

“What do you mean?” Shoko and Suguru shared a quick glance in question if he was playing dumb or if he actually didn’t know what they were getting at.

“When you’re not seeking her out to argue, then you do not shut up about her.”

He tried to shrug them off. “Because she gets on my last nerve.”

“No, Satoru, you don’t get it,” Shoko interrupted him, clearly annoyed. “If you disliked her as much as you say you do, you’d think you would want as little to do with her as possible.”

“Everyone complains about people they don’t like.”

“Every once in a while, sure. But it’s all the god damn time!”

Satoru just shook his head, trying to shake off their accusations. “Whatever it is you’re getting at, you can drop it. You’ve never been more off.”

With a deep sigh, Shoko turned to Suguru with a stern look in hopes he could get him to realise how absolutely insufferable he had been since you'd arrived. The second they managed to peer him away from throwing insults in your direction, he went on to complain about anything you’d done. Your answers in class were stupid, your technique when training was sloppy, you had immense power but didn’t know how to use it.

But the absolute worst was when you and Satoru had been on missions. Seeing as the two of you were significantly stronger than the rest of them, you were often sent on more demanding missions just the two of you, on several occasions facing special grade curses.

When both Suguru and Shoko were present, there was only so much new information Satoru could provide them with. But if you were gone for a day or two, there was no shutting him up. He went on and on about whatever curse you met and went into detail about what you’d done to exorcise them. To anyone listening, it sounded like he admired every move you made, throwing in random, cruel remarks just to keep up the image of hatred.

“Look, if you can tell yourself you talk so much about her because you hate her, fine. But how do you explain the looks,” Suguru continued the discussion.

“Looks?” Shoko swore she could punch him.

“You can’t be serious?” He huffed.

Truth was, Satoru was fully aware of how his gaze lingered on you for a second too long. He knew he couldn’t help but smile whenever he saw you thrive in battle, whether in practice with him or on missions. And whenever your skin got in contact with his, he became idiotically aware of himself.

But he could never in a million years admit that. Not after being so adamant in his disdain for you. “You guys are reaching,” he said with his characteristic, cocky chuckle as he began to walk away. “She’s my only real competition. It’s only fair I stay on top of it so she doesn’t surpass me.”

His friends only scowled at him as he exited the gymnasium. “1000 yen they’re sleeping together in a month.”

“Nah, you’re winning that bet,” Shoko said with a defeated chuckle.

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Satoru couldn’t understand what had happened. He was only staring empty at Yaga, the ringing in his ears completely blocking out his words, feeling his mouth run dry.

The last thing he remembered was Shoko’s frantic voice on the phone, telling him to hurry back to Jujutsu High. He’d only ever heard her voice that panicked a handful of times before; she was usually so calm and collected.

He’d wasted no time getting back, being rushed by both Suguru and Yaga the second he had set foot within the premises. The first thing he’d noticed was Suguru limping and clutching his stomach while his lip was bloodied.

Oh no.

“You alright?” He’d asked weakly, as he has begun to place the pieces together.

Suguru simply nodded with a wince in pain. “I’m fine, but Satoru-“

“You both made it back, right?” He tried to smother the desperation in his voice.

“Yes, but-“

Satoru had already begun to zone out, realising what they were about to tell him. He knew you and Suguru had gone on a mission— a mission which was originally meant for you and him.

However, last minute the higher ups had decided Satoru had to go on a solo mission. Though he had tried to argue, they had been very adamant. The only deal he had managed to make with them was for Suguru to go with you so you didn’t find yourself alone on a mission intended for the two of you.

“Satoru.” Though somewhat muffled, he managed to make out Suguru calling his name again.

“What happened?”

Suguru struggled to form the words, only stuttering a few sounds before Yaga jumped in to explain. “The curse that met them was special grade, not first grade like we first thought.”

“Okay, but she should be able to-“

“Satoru, you didn’t see it. It was unlike anything we’ve faced before,” Suguru finally managed to form a sentence as he could hear the stress start to appear in the voice of his best friend.

“No, but you’re both strong. Next to me, you’re the strongest!” He was starting to get severely anxious, his heart beating faster and faster. It was only made worse by how they didn’t seem to give him all the information straight forward.

“She got me out first.”

“Wait, got you out first? Is she not here?”

“Satoru?” Shoko’s shallow voice drew their attention to her, as her head perked out the door. Slowly, she made her way over to them, genuine concern on her face.

“Can someone please tell me what happened?” He pleaded, turning restless by the way they were all looking at each other while he was still left in the dark.

“She managed to hold the curse at bay long enough for me to go in again and get her.”

“She’s stable for now, but I… I’m not sure when she’ll wake up.”

This couldn’t happen. You always knew what you were doing when you were out on missions. Never reckless, despite what one might think. You took every precaution imaginable, avoiding every risk that you might face.

So how come they were telling him that you’d taken one hell of a beating? He felt the only reasonable explanation was that this was a sick joke.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, before hesitatingly asking what he’d wanted since he arrived. “Can I see her?” Shoko simply nodded before leading him to the door, carefully opening it up for him. Slowly stepping into the dimly lit room, his eyes immediately landed on you.

The first thing to hit him was how he couldn’t sense your cursed energy, and not because you were blocking him out like you usually did. But you just felt weak, and he couldn’t ever recall seeing you so peaceful.

Laying completely still on your back, your covers only covering your legs revealing your bandaged torso, a tiny bloodstain seeping through. Your face was different shades of blue, evidence of the battle.

As much as both of you had faced strong curses before, you’d never been this beaten up before. He became a little nauseous at the sight, beginning to picture how every thing had gone down wherever it was you had been sent on mission.

He cautiously approached your bedside, scared that if he made any sudden moves or sounds that he would somehow make it worse, before sitting down on the chair beside you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely a whisper. The guilt had hit him like a truck, taking responsibility for not being there.

If he had wanted to, he knew he could have convinced the higher ups not to send him on that solo mission. And if so, he could have been there and helped— saved you.

Against all odds, through all the fighting and bickering, you had become a strong team. Neither of you would say it out loud, but somewhere along the line, you had both grown to care for each other. Satoru, however, hadn’t realised it until his breath had hitched in his throat at the sight of you so fragile.

As the days past, your wound healed and your bruises faded from your face, but you showed no signs of waking up. Satoru grew more impatient for each day that went by, especially when no one had any more answers to give.

“I’m sorry, Satoru. I’ve done all that I can,” Shoko explained desperately almost on a daily basis, but he kept asking everyday.

Day in and day out, he sat in that damn uncomfortable chair, only occasionally pacing around the room for two minutes to stretch his legs before settling down in the chair again. He barely slept, so adamant on meeting your gaze when your eyes finally fluttered open.

“You gotta wake up soon,” he pleaded to deaf ears. Three weeks of waiting had been pure torture. “I need you to come back.” A somber chuckle left his lips.

Reluctantly, he dared to carefully grab your delicate hand in his. It was a weird sensation, as the only time he had felt your skin was when you were in combat training. Now it was soft and tender, letting his thumb glide graciously over the back of your hand.

“Do I have to beg you?” His voice was so careful, like he wasn’t able to let it out in its entirety. “If that’s what you’re trying to make me do, that’s not funny.”

Still nothing. Not a twitch in your eyelids, not your lips opening to speak, not your nose flaring as you took the first deep breath waking up.

“Wouldn't put it past you,” a faint smile reactively found its way onto his face. “Just please. Wake up.”

Dead silence filled the room, his eyes locked on your small hand resting in his. He didn’t realise his eyes had actually shed a tear until it hit your hand, his own intense emotions surprising him.

“You are going soft on me, sweetheart.” Satoru attention shot towards you, barely making out what you had groaned out. Muttering your name in shock, a self satisfied smirk grew on your lip. “Water, please,” you squealed before breaking out in coughs. Scrambling out of the chair, he clumsily filled you a glass of water.

“You’re awake.” His voice was so light, unlike how you were used to hearing it. Usually there was always a smirk to sense in his voice, constantly smug. But now he was so gentle, as he carefully placed his hand on your back to help you up before handing you the glass. You were so used to having his hands throw punches at you, it was a delightful change when he tenderly placed his hand on the back of your head as you drank.

“How long have I been out?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat before sitting back down in the chair. “A little over three weeks.”

Your eyes widened, another small cough escaping you. “Three weeks—“ a low whistle. “Bet you’ve surpassed me by far now.” You were only half joking, genuinely upset that you might have fallen behind. But, to your surprise, he gave you a nervous chuckle.

“Uhm, n-no,” he said before clearing his throat, shaking away his uneasiness. “Not really.”

“Okay? What have you been up to this whole time then?” The weak smile on your lips gradually faded when it dawned on you. With adoration glistening in your eyes, his gaze met yours. “Oh,” you spoke hoarsely. “You haven’t really sat here all the time, have you?”

“No, I’ve walked around the room a few times.” Blinking rapidly at him, you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing. This only confirmed the suspicions you’d been too scared to even think, that there might have been stolen glances and smiles with intentions shared between the two of you.

Without mentioning it, he had intuitively taken your hand in his again. Your cheeks heating from the feeling of his compassionate touch, pleasantly surprised by how natural it felt to have him hold it.

“I should probably get Shoko-“ he was about to stand up, but tightened the grip on his hand to prevent him.

“Just-“ anxiously clearing your throat. “I feel fine, we can wait a little longer.” His eyes captured your glare and he had never looked at you with so much passion before, making your heart skip a beat. “Thank you for sitting with me.”

“Wanted to be there when you woke up,” a tired smile on his lips.

“I’m glad you were.”

“Me too.”

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a/n alright guys... "ill take a break from writing this week" im full of crap. so when I was 2k words deep, I rewrote the entire thing. then i just kept writing and writing, it never ended. i thought it was gonna be much shorter. had to perfrom some killing of darlings. when i finished it first it was like 5.3k words so.

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

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imbecominggayer · 5 months ago

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Writing Advice: Too Many Characters

A common advice when writing stories is "don't write too many characters". But, like with everything creative and good, there is no definitive answer to how many characters should be in a book!

So I will be discussing numerous variables in storytelling which impacts how many characters you should have and what makes something in a book "pointless".

Themes! Themes! Themes! (Omori Spoilers, Not Too Much)

The most important question that a writer has to ask themself is "what is this scene/book/media trying to do?". If your story is based on the relationships we have with others and the impact they can have on our psyche then having a close-knitted community of people will drive the message of intimate connection better then just having more people in there. If your story is focused primarily on introspection, looking inward, individuality, and other spiritual activities then the protagonist is more likely to spend longer durations of the media by themselves.

An example of these to forces is the popular game of Omori.

(SPOILERS ABOUT OMORI<3)

Omori is a game that focuses on acceptance first and foremost. Self-acceptance to be more specific. Due to the fact that the game is a piece of introspection both for Sunny and for the player, the most important moments in the game such as the "reveal" sequence of pictures and Black Space are ones that are done on your own.

However, the game also prioritizes the relationships Sunny has between his friends as this serves as motivation for the final duet. The final duet was an act of bonding as Mari and Sunny just wanted to spend time together, doing something they liked.

The introspection moments are pushed towards the end of the game because it's only when Sunny has that support and belief in his friends, can he rise above his doubt and shame and fear.

2. What Is The Purpose Of This Character?

All characters need to have a purpose in the narrative. Both within the context of the world and in the context of the book.

Within the context of the world, they need a goal that is going to impact the protagonist either positively or negatively.

Within the context of the book, what is this character giving to the audience that wouldn't otherwise be there?

Pro tip: All the characters you have need to have more then one purpose! Characters that give exposition can't JUST give exposition.

If you have a love interest that can be cut out without taking away a vital part of the story either from a thematic(theme) standpoint or a narrative(plot) standpoint, just replace them with an object and move it along!

If you have an ally character that only shows up twice and can be changed into "I went down to the store to buy these items", give that "ally" tag to someone more story relevant"!

3. Priorites?

Ask yourself this: "Do I have the book length to dedicate time to this person?"

If the answer is no, follow my next steps. If the answer is yes, here is how to make them better.

When I say "prioritize", I mean you need to figure out what type of character this character is. Are they a main character? A side character? Cannon fodder? A symbol? WHAT ARE THEY?

Also, can you give these character responsibilities to someone else? This simultaneously gives those characters deeper complexity and eliminates more characters

Example: Love Interest, after being trapped by the villain, uses their intelligence in order to provide information about the villain to the hero. (Love Interest + Ally + Informant)

Example: Friend is revealed to be a double agent on the side of the Villain. However, it's revealed that Friend was secretly a triple agent who is finally redeemed from their original believed betrayal. They're back to being an ally. (Friend + Betrayer + Ally + Enemy)

#writing #on writing #creative writing #writeblr #writing advice #reading #character advice

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lizzybeeee · 1 month ago

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DATV is overly reliant on Supplemental Media - especially if you are a returning player

TL;DR: Supplemental material should not be required reading in order to understand what's going on in the main game -> it's additional material that enhances what we were given. If what we were given is lacking and unable to coherently tell us a story, then the writers and those in charge did not prioritize what was important.

Not a take that's unique to Dragon Age, but one that is very relevant when talking about DATV. I've made a few posts about plot/story points that either make no sense or have been dropped entirely in the lead up from DAI to DATV. Every now and then I get a few comments or messages about how certain points I made were addressed in supplemental material released in the lead up to this games release.

This isn't a call out post, by the way! But it's frustrating, to me, that this games writing is so lacking that my understanding is being inhibited because I can't remember details from a book I read two years ago - not to mention various podcasts, comics, and short stories. My understanding of a video game in a video game series should not be reliant on additional/optional content.

DATV is a weird game in that it is absolutely a 'soft/scorched earth' reboot while also marketing itself as a continuation to what was set up in Inquisition and Trespasser. Personally, I think that if you are up to number 4 in a game series, one with a continuous story-line, it should be expected that new players won't be able to catch up to everything -> it's the game developers job to make the world and story intriguing enough that the new players will go back to previous games in the series and fill in the blanks themselves.

Veilguard, as a sequel, is overly reliant on content that comes from outside the games themselves (including DLC's) if you want to make sense of the world and story. Trespasser left us with an epilogue that set up some plot points for the next game: Solas & the Veil, the Elven Rebellion, and War with the Qun - plot points that have been built up since the time of Origins. But when we get into DATV two of these points have been dropped and resolved, off-screen.

There are more questions, but these are the ones that bothered me the most while playing the game:

What happened to the Agents of Fen'harel/ Elven Rebellion? -> answered in a cursed reddit AMA.

What happened to the Qunari following Trespasser -> addressed in Tevinter Nights, and a codex entry you can pick up (optional).

Why is Skyhold infested with demons? -> mentioned in Tevinter Nights.

How did the Dalish go from worshiping their own pantheon to knowing they are false gods? (specifically those we meet in the Veil Jumpers) -> mentioned in the Missing comic series.

What's up with Nevarra's Royals? -> Tevinter Nights addresses that there is a power struggle in the Pentaghast family and the role of the Mortalitasi in making it worse - though it does not address the whole 'mage puppeting a corpse' issue and all the implications it has.

This is a video game series -> the bulk of the information required for me to understand the story and its relation to previous entries needs to be included in the final game version. I am playing a video game and not attending a uni class - I should not need to have a required reading list in order to understand what the fuck is going on. I should definitely not need to go onto a reddit AMA to understand what happened in-game, either.

What makes this stand out the most is that DAI was very successful in tying in previous games, DLC's, movies, and books! Inquisition did a great job in getting you up to speed on the events of the previous games early on, providing personalization if you played those games, and giving the player the opportunity to inquire into these events.

Hiding away the answers in additional material or a codex entry that may be missed is not good game design or good writing. DAI didn't assume that you had bought and played the Legacy DLC -> it made certain you experienced the conversation with Varric and Hawke if you wanted to proceed in the game. It didn't hide away imperative information in codex entries - it had characters talk about it in scripted scenes and encourage the player to ask more. You would actively need to avoid interacting with characters for you to not experience this information in DAI.

Leliana talks about her role during the Blight, her calling by the Maker, and her relationship with Dorothea/Justinia -> DAO and Leliana's Song DLC.

Cullen talks about his time as a templar at Kinloch & Kirkwall -> DAO and DA2.

Cassandra speaks about her history, investigation into Hawke, and the Seekers -> Dawn of the Seeker movie, DA2, & Asunder novel.

Varric talks about Hawke, Kirkwall, and Corypheous -> DA2 and Legacy DLC.

Cole talks about how he discovered he was a 'demon' - it leads to further conversations about Rhys, Evangeline, and Lord-Seeker Lambert -> Asunder novel.

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts -> the game literally continues what the Masked Empire novel sets up, the Orlesian Civil War. The game does a decent job of telling us about the players (Celene, Gaspard, Briala etc...) and the reasoning behind the conflict through dialogue, the ability to explore the battlefields, quests, ambient dialogue, etc... The book is not required reading - though it greatly adds to the complexity of the characters, motivations, and political intrigue!

I never once, playing DA2 or DAI, felt penalized or like my experience was lacking because I had not engaged with supplemental material or DLC's. I got into Dragon Age when I was in high school, it wasn't until I graduated and began working after that I had the disposable income available for experiencing the extra material. I cannot say that for DATV - If you have played Inquisition and go into DATV straight from that you will, absolutely, be confused about how we got from A to B.

Which is especially strange to me!? Why is it that new players will be less confused than those that are returning players? It's like the game is actively punishing you for playing and caring about previous games in the series.

Supplemental media is bought because the main product has earned your investment, love, or interest. Not everyone has the income available to buy it with their own money - especially if you live outside the US and have to pay additional shipping costs. Not everyone has the ability to buy or 'obtain' the digital versions either. My understanding of the main story of a video game in a video game series should not require additional monetary investment into other mediums.

The game itself should be enough and DATV is not enough.

#Inquisition didn't get it perfect but its miles apart from how DATV handled it imo #'in tevinter nights-' 'in the missing-' 'in this short story/podcast etc-'#this should be explained in-game!#especially since it was set up in the last game! don't have an epilogue setting up things if you're not going to go through with it!#or at the very least EXPLAIN what happened?!#veilguard was marketed and sold to us as a SEQUEL - it needs to answer what was set up in the one DLC that apparently mattered!#The Masked Empire really improves the entire Wicked Eyes/Hearts questline - highly recommend reading btw #to clarify - adding this stuff in won't save the awful writing and weak story. it just makes it extra frustrating lmao #the EA anti-consumer mindset has bled into BioWare imo #maybe not intentionally but its giving the same vibes as ea breaking apart sims dlcs and selling each for $10 a pop #put some info in a comic / in the game / in a book -> my experience should not lack because i only got the game in your VIDEO GAME SERIES #dragon age joplin save me :(#why does the concept art for joplin address this shit better? lmao #datv critical #datv spoilers #bioware critical #veilguard critical

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plusvanity · 2 months ago

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What’s your take on Pelle wanting a romantic relationship irl? Do you think it’s something he would’ve wanted? Or was he afraid that he was too odd for someone to accept him? (I don’t know if that sounds harsh). Since you think that he was sensitive.

Btw I love your analysis girl 🫶

I'm not so sure about relationships, but I firmly believe that he wanted to connect to someone, somehow.

In terms of friendships, I think Øystein was the closest friend he had (at least during his time in Norway), but even so, Pelle didn't open up much for various reasons that include the environment in which he was at that time and most probably trust issues. Talking at some point with Old Mayhem, she described an 'invisible wall' between Pelle and his friends/ the world and I couldn't agree more. It feels like Pelle would've wanted this meaningful connection with someone, anyone, but unfortunately, he didn't manage to form it. I genuinely think this had a massive contribution to why he took his own life.

I don't know if he would've wanted a relationship because a relationship comes with a lot of stress and pressure for being in a commitment, attending someone else's needs, etc, but he definitely felt alone and forgotten in this world. After all, he wrote in his last lyrics 'No one will ever miss you'. He longed to be seen, to be given attention and importance. There are a lot of signs of emotional neglect in how he developed, but I will try to keep it short. I consider him as being in the autism spectrum and a relationship would most likely feel overwhelming, especially since he would lack experience, confidence, etc. But if I have to imagine him in a relationship, I can only imagine him being with someone patient and calm.

People with strong trauma responses, PTSD and those who suffer from personality disorders need a partner who is a bit more mentally equipped to manage stressful situations than your average Joe. To see improvement in Pelle's mental health, he would need a very patient and mature partner.

Love can heal a broken heart. I am one of those people who believe that no matter how broken you are, if you find someone to love you for who you are, someone who is willing to accept you with all of your inner demons, with the the good and the ugly, you can start to heal. Currently, I'm following this process myself. The human brain can be programmed and re-programmed. We are very adaptable to our environments and if we make our senses realize we're not in danger anymore, we can finally allow ourselves inner peace. This is why I believe that Pelle could've been saved.

Hypothetically speaking, Pelle would have a hard time adjusting to a relationship. He was quite rigid, stubborn and unwilling to change for others. To make a relationship work, you need to make some compromises. Another aspect that I want to point out is that Pelle had outbursts or 'episodes' of impulsive behavior when he was living. That would be a serious problem. Øystein (and Metalion, if I remember correctly) had to literally hold Pelle down when he suddenly wanted to 'go to Transylvania'. The question is: Would someone be able (and willing) to deal with this again and again? He would definitely need psychiatric treatment, but would he accept that? There are so many factors that would make dating Pelle a real challenge. I also believe that he was suffering some sort of perceptual delusion. I won't call it Cotard's syndrome since it is not recognized in the DSM and since we have very little information about it, but my honest opinion is that he might have had something more that just depression and I'm kind of pointing towards Major Depression with Psychotic Features. If you believe something else, that's fine. Everyone does their own research and reaches their own conclusions.

I do think he was sensitive and there would've been room in him to grow positive feelings towards someone, to form a meaningful connection and learn to trust again. In the end, it doesn't matter if he would've had a romantic partner or a best friend, he would've liked to form a bond with another soul, someone who understands him, respects him and is there to stay.

I imagine him as being very honest, capable of showing tenderness, being mindful, quiet, contemplative and trustworthy in a meaningful relationship.

Sorry for my late response, I had an awful weekend.

#ask response #pelle ohlin

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idkanymoreokay · 6 months ago

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I have so many thoughts on the friendship between Flynn and Cassandra, I could write a million essays on it. But something that has really jumped out to me during my current rewatch is the way these two just easily understand each other without even trying.

They talk without having to verbally communicate most of what they're saying. They don't even seem to be aware of the fact everyone else in the room is looking at them in confusion because they can't hear the unspoken parts of the conversation.

They bounce ideas off each other so easily, instantly pick up on each other's trains of thought, and practically finish the other's sentences or ideas.

These two neurodivergent geeks, who never had anyone in their life truly grasp what goes on inside their head, suddenly found someone who knows and it's like they instantly latched onto that connection.

Cassandra also has her very close friendship with the other LITs, and Flynn has his relationship with Eve, but it's their friendship with each other that lets them both explore and indulge the parts of themself that other people just don't understand.

Cassandra is definitely the one out of the LITs that is most like Flynn, both in her skills as a Librarian and also in her personality and how her lightning speed thoughts tend to get translated into her words and interactions with others. (Which is a whole other topic I'd love to dive into another day.) But, yeah, it makes so much sense why they have no trouble at all understanding each other.

(Edit: Nope, that was supposed to be the end of the post but I have too many thoughts that need to be shouted into the void. Their friendship is very important to me. So...)

Jumping back to the very beginning - During the first two episodes, Flynn is perpetually annoyed by Ezekiel and just kinda ignores Stone. But Cassandra… He's absolutely fascinated by her from the moment they first meet. He takes a minute out of their incredibly urgent life-and-death mission to discuss her being a synesthete and geek out a little over the fact she has an eidetic memory like him. And Cassandra's immediate reaction of "Yes, wow" is like she can't believe someone is capable of immediately understanding what's going on inside her head and is 100% okay with that and not at all bothered by her being "different".

And then they get to Stonehenge:

And I think this is the moment Flynn really starts to appreciate how brilliant Cassandra is, and how very much like him she is. Flynn is a fairly competitive person with a genius brain like no other, but he doesn't get upset or offended when she takes over the calculations, and even carries them out faster than he could have. If anything, he looks genuinely impressed. He instantly understands what information she needs and readily gives it to her so they can continue solving the puzzle. They immediately settle into this easy back and forth, this rapid exchange of information and clues as they work at putting together the pieces. He's able to talk to her in a way he can't talk to anyone else. It's probably been a long time (if ever) since he's interacted with someone who can keep up with him.

Even after Cassandra has betrayed Flynn -- causing him to lose his home, the only family he had left, his best friend, and potentially his life -- he instantly accepts her back on the team and even sticks up for her when the others object. At this point, she hasn't apologized, shown any indication of remorse, or had a chance to make amends. And it doesn't matter to him. "She had her reasons" - and that's enough for him. He lets her out of the cell and immediately wants to hear her plan for stopping the Brotherhood.

And I think this is the moment when Cassandra -- similar to Flynn's realization at Stonehenge -- suddenly realizes that someone else can grasp her thought process. That someone understands the way her brain works. That someone is capable of following her trains of thought and not getting lost in the ordered chaos of her mind.

Just look at her smile!! She is trying to get across what she wants to say, and she's so used to having to break things down for others and still not being understood, and here's someone who instantly picks up what she's trying to convey. Look how utterly happy and excited she is when he gets it.

I love how much they appreciate each other's genius. I love how they can communicate on a different level. I love how much they genuinely care about each other.

And I absolutely love that it's through Flynn that Cassandra manages to have her moment for redemption, because he's already clearly demonstrated that he's the one member of the group she doesn't have to prove herself to.

I just... 😭😭😭

I love that Flynn has zero people skills and a very weak grasp on the concept of friendship and yet he meets this brilliant, weird, amazing young person and pretty much instantly connects with her. Because, like her, he also spent most of his life invisible and now someone actually understands him and is already so important to him, even if it's a while yet before he'll really fully understand the concept of friendship.

I love that Cassandra has spent most of her life feeling unseen and never truly accepted by the people around her. And then she meets someone who immediately sees her and understands how her mind works and appreciates and trusts her, and who introduces her to this life of mystery and magic where she can use her talents to save the world… and she already knows that he's important to her even if she doesn't realize just how much her life is going to change because of him.

There's SO MUCH more I could say about their friendship, but I should probably channel some of it into an actual blog post at some point. For now, here's some cute moments I grabbed while getting the screenshots for this post:

#i know this fandom is dead but i had thoughts that needed to be shouted into the void #these two are very special to me #and i just love their friendship so much #flynn carsen #cassandra cillian #meta stuff #character analysis #long post #the librarians #thoughts for the void

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miniwheat77 · 2 years ago

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Give 'em hell. (Captain Price x Reader.)

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY AND I WANTED TO MAKE A STORY ABOUT MY ONE TRUE LOVE, CAPTAIN PRICE. 22 TODAY, PLEASE ENJOY THIS. ALSO THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 1K FOLLOWERS.

!CW! NSFW, Smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pollen sex, (my bad if I missed any.)

Summary: Reader and Captain Price get exposed to a weird chemical.

Part 2.

The mission was supposed to be simple. There was a terrorist who had killed a few soldiers, they needed to be taken care of. It wasn't a capture mission, he had no valuable information. Just a piece of shit wanting to kill people. He needed to be eliminated and that's how you and your Captain ended up on the mission. You were still somewhat new to the task force, so your Captain decided he'd take you along on this mission with him. Spend some time with you, get to know you and what skills you offer to the team. It was a good opportunity for experience.

So when he was giving you support from afar with a sniper rifle and you were sneaking in real close, despite his anxiety, the only words he said to you were "Give 'em hell." You showed him exactly what you were about. Skilled on takedowns, real quiet when you needed to be. He admired you. Sometimes he wonders what he did to form such a good team. Especially a team that seemed to get along and work together so well. When the compound he had watched you disappear into went silent, no sirens, no gunfire, nothing. He knew you had done the job. He slung his sniper around his shoulder and began the hike down the rocky hill to get to the building. Concerned by your silence. "Captain, you're going to want to see this." His heart started to beat a little harder in his chest after hearing his radio go off. He moves faster down the hill being careful not to fall, he didn't need any more old man jokes from Gaz.

He searches through the buildings and when he finds you, he finds you in a lab. "What's so important Y/N?" He asks. You pick up a paper, looking over it before nodding your head for him to follow you. Inside, there are massive vats of some kind of liquid. "What the hell is it?" He asks. "Some kind of.. weird sex drug." You laugh. "Some form of torture I guess." Captain Price looks at you concerned. "The bloody hell is wrong with these people?" He’s eyeing everything around him.

"You got me on that one." You laugh. "So.. How is it used as a form of torture?" He asks. "Well... The only way to cure it is to have unprotected sex, has something to do with the protein/peptide hormones in sperm that dilute it. The way it gets cured in women is if that sperm gets in contact with an egg. If you don't cure it, your blood pressure gets too high, heart starts pounding, and you eventually die of a heart attack." You spin the papers around, it's got a diagram on it. "Jesus Christ, that's evil. We've got to destroy this stuff." He says. “Definitely. Did you find the subject?” He asks. “Haven’t checked the bodies just yet, got a little distracted seeing all of this. I thought it might be drugs. Well.. a different kind.” You chuckle. He laughs. Looking down. “Well. Let’s go see if you got him.” He places down a piece of paper he had. You hear the sound of bounding footsteps coming toward the both of you, and before either of you have any time to react, there's syringes being stabbed into the both of you. Your Captain has drawn his gun and killed the assailant before you even have time to react. You grasp the syringe out of your neck with a hiss, your Captain pulling one from his shoulder. "Was that.." You trail off. "Yeah. Yeah it was." He throws the syringe down, a sigh leaving his lips. "Fucking bloody hell, how much time do we have?" He asks. You pick the paper up off of the ground where you had dropped it out of reaction. "Three hours." You sigh.

Captain Price sits down in one of the chairs in the lab. Taking out a cigar and his zippo. Lighting it. Your brain is foggy. What does this mean? Does this mean you both die? Neither of you can get to civilization soon enough for...

Does that mean you have sex with your captain?

"I'm gonna go get some fresh air." You take a deep breath walking out of the room and heading toward an exit. You shove the large metal door open and take a step into the cool night air. You breathe in the air, looking up at the sky.

Nighttime was the best time to attack.

You take in a deep breath, sitting down against the cool brick wall. This was fucking insane. Maybe he injected you with something else. Maybe it was some other kind of drug.

The swirling in your stomach told you otherwise, you were in denial. You were in quite the predicament. Have sex with your Captain or die. Literally fuck or die. Does he think he's going to die? Is that why he's just sitting there? Of course he wouldn't expect you to have sex with him, but he was your Captain, you couldn't let him die either. You had no other choice. You were already sweating profusely and you're sure your Captain felt the same as you. You start pep talking yourself as you walked back into the room he's sitting in. He's shed a few of his things. His vest is off and he's just got on an army green shirt. "I uh.. I really respect you, Sergeant. But.." He laughs. He looks down at the ground before looking back up at you. "I-I was just going to come back in here to say that I.." You laugh awkwardly. "I don't particularly want to die either." You breathe. He looks up at you.

"Alright. I guess since we're on the same page. Let's figure out what the fuck to do." He stands up, picking up his stuff and walking over to the table. Picking up any paperwork that might be useful, motioning for you to follow him. You follow him outside. "Might want to take off any clothing you don't want getting ruined. We’re going to destroy this shit.” He looks at you as he sheds some of his clothing. What’s important anyways. You follow his lead, doing the same. You follow behind him as he makes his way over to a shed. He shoves the door open and steps inside. It’s dark but he’s digging around inside. It's full of all kinds of tools and construction items, he ends up finding a couple sledge hammers. He passes you one and you give him a look of confusion. "You can swing a sledge hammer right?" He asks. The way he throws the other up onto his shoulder, muscles fitting out his shirt so well has you swallowing hard. In just a few short minutes, you were going to have sex with him.

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

You nod your head, taking the other from him. You follow him back inside, going into the building with the massive vats of liquid. He takes the first swing, hammer knocking into the glass, shattering it and sending the water spilling out of the side, covering his clothes. It pools on the floor, covering your shoes. He laughs. “It’s kind’ve fun actually.” He smiles. When he swings the sledge hammer, his shirt stretches around his muscles and the grunts that leave him has the heat pooling between your legs. It’s getting worse by the minute. The longer this goes on, the more appealing your Captain seems to become. You laugh, taking the next swing, hammer knocking into it. The same thing happening. You smile.

A gasp leaves your lips, and your knees buckle underneath you. Your knees hit the ground, the liquid soaking your pants. “Oh fuck!” You cry out. “Hey, you okay?” He lowers himself down to you, resting a hand on your back. “Yeah, it’s just getting worse.” You pant out. “Just a couple more okay? We’ll fix it when we’re done.” He blushes. You nod your head. He helps you up and the heat filling your body feels like too much. You raise your hammer, knocking it into another vat, watching it explode.

You repeat this until there's nothing left. The both of you are panting, getting weaker by the minute. You follow him out the door and Captain Price lights the last of his cigar, taking a hit and offering it to you.

He flicks the last of it into the liquid and it lights on fire immediately. Filling the room and everything inside with flames. "Come on." He offers his hand to you. You take it, following him back outside as the building goes up in flames, admiring the work you both had done. "So.. You said that in order for the cure to work for women, the sperm has to come in contact with an egg. Unprotected sex. But.. doesn't that mean you end up.. Pregnant?" He asks. "I believe so, but I’m not entirely sure. Sex is the only cure because the hormones in the drug heighten all of your senses. Making the implantation of the sperm to be effective immediately.. so yeah. I guess so.” You shrug. He nods his head. After watching the building become a giant burning blaze, he breaks the silence, talking over the crackling and popping of the fire. "I'm going to go scope out that building right there.” He points to a big green building. “You want to check out the other? See what else is inside?" You nod your head. "Yeah sure."

You part ways and as John approaches, he stops when he sees a truck under a lean to. He has an idea. He opens the door and pulls the visor down, to his luck the keys come falling out. He turns the key, smiling when it roars to a start. He backs it up out of the lean to and pulls it closer to the burning building and adjusting it to where the bed of the truck faces the fire. He wanted to at least make the effort. Make this somewhat romantic for you. He goes inside the other building and looks for any kind of bedding inside, finding all kinds of blankets and pillows, bringing them down and laying them down in the bed of the truck. Once it's comfortable and everything is set up, Captain Price is struggling. His cock is rock hard in his jeans and he's sweating. Heart already beating hard in his chest. After a few more minutes, you emerge from the other building, smiling when you see what he's done. "What's this?" You ask. "Ah, just trying to make this more comfortable." The sky is full of stars, nobody is around. Burning building in the background. Perfect setting. He's sitting on the open tailgate of the truck, patting the spot next to him. "Your heart beating fast too?" He asks. You nod your head. He turns to look at you. Bringing his leg up onto the bed to turn more toward you. "You ready for this?" He asks. You nod your head. “Yeah.. you’re getting sexier by the minute as this stuff starts to set in.” You joke. “Oh, I’m already sexy. Always.” He winks. “Yeah, you’re not wrong.”

He swallows hard, leaning into you. The burning in your lower stomach feels a slight amount of relief. Must have something to do with serotonin being released from your brain. He pushes your hair behind your ear, cupping the side of your face with his hand and leaning into you. When his lips meet yours, you feel dizzy. He pulls away almost immediately, eyes closed. "Fucking hell." He laughs. Lowering his head. "Feels fucking good, almost too much." He laughs. "Yeah it does." You laugh. He leans back in, kissing you a little harder this time, deepening the kiss. You melt right into him, and even though neither of you have much of a choice, this somehow feels right. It feels good, how on earth a kiss could feel so good is beyond you. You move up into the bed of the truck, sinking into the blankets beneath you. He hovers over the top of you, kissing you again. He starts rolling his hips into yours and the moans slip from your lips unintentionally, he feels so good against you. He mumbles a few curses under his breath, he feels it too. He helps you remove most of your clothes, shedding his along the way too. Once you're fully naked and ready for each other, he lines himself up with your entrance. "Ah, Please." You pant. “No.. gonna take my time with you sweetheart.” He breathes. His lips trail down your body. Starting with the skin in your throat, he’s biting and sucking the skin. Hearing you moan out is something special. He didn’t know he needed it. He runs his tongue down your stomach, face between your thighs. “Oh fuck…” you whimper, looking down. You get a good look at him. He’s looking back up at you, sparkling eyes in the moonlight. He buries his face into your soaking cunt, lapping at your entrance and swirling his tongue over your clit. He sucks at the sensitive nerve until your legs are shaking and you’re squirming beneath him. “Oh my god!” You cry out. He smiles into you as he drags his tongue over your slit. “Mm.. taste so fucking good.” He breathes. He’s devouring you like you’re his last meal. He has a death grip on your thighs, keeping you still while he tastes you. Not wanting you to move away from him. A mewl leaves your lips and he knows you’re getting close. He pulls away, his face glistening in the moonlight. He kisses back up your stomach and chest, stopping to give your nipples some attention. He lines himself up with your entrance. Looking into your eyes. He sinks into you slowly, drawing a gasp from your lips. It's music to his ears.

Your eyes roll back when he starts thrusting into you at a quick pace. "I'm sorry if I'm rough- you just feel so good." He grits his teeth. "it's okay. I like it." You pant, looking down. You're watching him slide into the cavern between your legs, eyes rolling back at just how sexy it is. It's really starting to set in. You're having sex with your Captain. The Captain who you'd never had anything other than a professional relationship with. The Captain who up until just a couple hours ago you would've considered a friend. Now, dick buried up inside of you. Ready to fill you, potentially knock you up with his kid, and he's okay with it. You don't know that yet, but he's cool with it. He's always wanted to be a dad and you're a real pretty girl anyways. You'd look real cute round with his baby. He kisses you hard, hips plowing into yours as he fucks into you. "You're real beautiful you know?" He groans. Having trouble with an unsteady voice from trying to hold back the moans that desperately want to leave his lips. "I've thought you were real pretty for while, didn't think it'd turn into anything." He chuckles. "I couldn't have been more wrong huh." He smirks. "Guess so. I just.. you're my captain. It's just-ah!" A moan leaves your lips and he smiles. "You can call me John." He leans down, taking a harder thrust than the last. A moan leaving your lips. "Or moan it."

He speeds up his thrusts a little, feeling that familiar pit in his stomach. He's ready for it. Ready to claim you. Fill you up with his cum. You're clutching onto the blankets hard, legs resting up on his thighs. He's got the perfect angle, sliding right into the spongy spot inside of you, sending swarms of butterflies shooting through you. Something about the drug you're on. It's intensifying the pleasure. The dog tag he'd picked up and put on again at some point dangles in your face and the mental image you have of him is filthy, thrusting into you, the truck rocking with every hard thrust he takes. The deep rattle in his chest from his groans. It's too much and it overwhelms you immediately. Your high is creeping up on you quickly and so is his. You glance up at the sky, seeing all of the stars. Your eyes are getting increasingly blurry, your orgasm was right there. "John, I'm gonna cum!" You cry out. He lowers his hand, rubbing circles into your clit. Your mouth parts. Looking up into the sky. "Fuck, me too sweetheart." He groans. His thrusts start to get a little sloppy, he's chasing that high. He keeps rubbing at your clit, sending you into your orgasm. Tears fill your eyes. It's so much, the most pleasure you've ever experienced before. A gasp leaves his lips when he hits his own orgasm. Just then, the blazing building behind him collapses, sparks bellowing off of the rubble. His hips come to a sharp halt. He relaxes into you. Panting hard.

He slides out of you, moving to lay next to you, pulling one of the blankets over the both of you. You're watching the stars and seeing the building slowly burn out. Within the hour, both of you no longer feel the effects of the drugs that had been injected into you.

The next morning, it's cold when you stir awake because he is moving. He's sitting on the tailgate again and you pull the blanket up over you as you sit up. The building is nothing but ashes, still smoking. The wind is blowing just a little and it's still pretty dark. "Made it through the night." He smiles. "Yeah.. we did." You laugh. "Hell of a story." He smirks. "Yeah.. I'd say. Suppose we won't say that to our kid." You chuckle. "If there is one anyways." You lay back down. "I hope so." He mumbles under his breath, making your eyes widen. "What?"

"What?"

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #john price #john price x reader

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shattered-system · 7 months ago

Text

The “Redefinition” of Systempunk

Updated version!

We're not typically an essay kind of blog, but there's something l've been turning over in my mind since l've seen it.

I have the post pulled up now actually, and about 11 hours ago @/the-alarm-system "recoined" (stole) the term systempunk in a long post, as well as designed a flag with its own meaning and I want to sort through some of it.

I also have a few personal pet peeves about their flag design, given that it's color palette clashes and the flag is way too busy. I don't expect it to spread far given that it violates several rules of good design (saying this as someone who has been to school for graphic design.)

I will not post it here, because I don't care to spread it any more than this post already may.

Their flag slightly predates my own version of the systempunk flag, but given that theirs was created for a separate concept with a stolen name, I maintain that we were the first.

We begin with their definition of systempunk.

“A term or Subculture surrounding the liberation of plurals and the critique of psychiatry."

First issue lies here. Both the destigmitization of dissociative disorders and critique of the psych field are extremely important discussions to have!

But they are separate discussions. There is absolutely overlap, but combining the two here is kind of shooting yourself in the foot, because then the conversation in that tag will be disorganized.

Have a systempunk movement AND an anti-psych or psych-critical movement. That way people can easily find the relevant discussions and terms.

This is followed up with a bit about the harm the psychiatric field has caused (not delving into that as that's not what this blog is about) and then circle back onto "the future is plural."

This is not one of the instances where OP means it in the "the future is destigmitization" sense, as they are pro endo. (On a side note, even ignoring the endo use of the phrase-- if I need to read about a slogan to understand the meaning of the slogan, it's a bad slogan. The point of a slogan is to communicate a concept quickly.)

The flag has black and brown stripes akin to the progress flag to represent systems of color, which is the only part of the design we have no critique for, but are describing anyway just as a bit of information.

The purple stripe stands for:

“Endo solidarity... endogenic systems are continuously harmed by antis who remain uncritical of psychiatry."

Once again, we are mixing two expansive concepts into one term.

The term anti-endo doesn't imply a position one way or the other on the psychiatry discussion.

Some anti-endos swear by the DSM5, others don't. Anti-endo is a term that means anti-endo/ endo-critical. That is all it means.

There is a difference between holding the DSM as the complete authority on mental illness and saying that a trauma disorder is caused by trauma.

I'm not sure if OP knows that and is choosing to cast anti-endos in a bad light, or legitimately confused. However, OP is a syscourse blog who is on a lot of blocklists and is spammy in the tags, and has likely been blocked by anyone who isn't also out looking to pick immature fights. (This is a system who made a post in all caps calling for an endo raid on #systempunk.)

Continuing directly from the last quote:

“[Antis] are against the liberation of plurals and deny a plural future in order to push singlethood onto others."

It's possible OP is referring to final fusion, which the anti-endo community is not a monolith on either. Most people we've interacted with are supporters of functional multiplicity (including ourselves.)

Most likely however, they mean that anti-endos "push singlethood" by telling endogenics that they can't have a trauma disorder without trauma.

And I could go into a whole tirade about that, but dozens of systems have done it before and I doubt any pro-endos have gotten this far. I am writing this for the anti-endo and on-the-fence audiences.

Visit @antimisinfo's helpful masterpost for a list of legitimate sources.

OP seems to believe that by “forcing” this singlethood, we are contributing directly to the oppression of systems. Hypocritically, OP themselves are contributing directly to the oppression of trauma victims.

Endogenics are not part of the "diverse experiences of plurality” (we are diverse, but united in origin) given that they don't exist. And if they did, they would have such a fundamentally different experience than trauma-formed systems that both groups would need separate language and tags to have space to themselves.

And endos already have a well-established punk tag for themselves. It seems they won't be happy until they chase trauma victims out of every space they create for themselves and steal every term. They've already stolen even the medical terminology used for CDDs.

The yellow stripe of the flag is meant to represent those with actual CDDs. Once again, psych stuff is brought up. However, I do agree with OP that those who do not want final fusion should not be pushed into it.

The pink and white stripes of the flag are entirely dedicated to anti-psych points. I think this would do wonderfully on it's own flag. But bringing the large range of discussion the anti-psych movement encompasses and the large range of discussion the CDD community has into the same tags is going to make it monumentally difficult to find the conversations you're wanting to have, and weaken both communities considerably.

There is a line of barbed wire across the flag that is partially for the same anti-psych movement as well as in favor of protecting and defending endogenic "identities." The ampersand stands for plurality.

There are fangs on the flag as well, encouraging systems to be loud and proud about their existence. And I agree that systems should make themselves known. However, endogenic systems don't exist, and their promotion will continue to drag us down.

I have read testimonies about traumagenic (real) systems being fakeclaimed or denied treatment by healthcare experts who, through exposure to endos, came to the conclusion CDDs are fake entirely.

Real systems seeking treatment and help after a lifetime of horrific abuse are being denied care.

Not to mention the setback of social acceptance by endos.

“Force plural liberation down the throats of others. Force the future to be plural."

#shatteredsys #systempunk #syspunk #system punk #traumagenic system #did osdd #cdd community #did system #osddid community #cdd system #system stuff #sysblr #osdd #osddid #endos dni #actually dissociative #actually did

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hazshit-hotel-hater · 30 days ago

Note

As a person who was genuinely made uncomfortable when I discovered Viv does all this crap like 🍇-romantification, I appreciate this blog so far.

For months I've been trying not to interact with hazbin because of viv's actions, which genuinely makes me sad cause I really liked the show (not including episode 4).

I understand darker skin not suiting your style (like mine) or having trouble with different proportions of characters due to where they're from or something (like me) but the fact that she made all the bad guys that way really doesn't scream "I have trouble drawing ____!"

⚠️YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED TO REPLY OR READ FULLY⚠️

Hi! Totally get this all dw, I just got out of the hospital however so if I explain weird please forgive me 😬 also dont take all of this as me giving specifically you a lecture, this is just me letting my thoughts flow out to whoever is reading 🤝

Also theres leaks in this! If you people don’t want leaks be sure to not read past “read more”!!

Its been brought to my attention that the information in the next paragraph is not true and Vivzie did not design or draw these characters! So she apparently just actually can’t draw them at all

Viv has absolutely no problem drawing POC! I mean just look at the human designs for the succubi in Helluva boss

These designs are wonderful and very diverse! But out of these characters, the ones that are important are Verosika and Vortex and even then these characters are side characters. And on top of that, technically they’re only really coded as POC since these aren’t their true bodily forms, but hey thats a topic for another time. Let’s just ignore that for now and say they 100% are POC, they’re still side characters. She can draw POC wonderfully, she just has issues… making them important.

For characters like Alastor (who was only made POC to get away with demonising a closed religion) we don’t see him as his human form. I mean to be fair why would we- but also why did he turn white when he died?? Why did his entire hair texture change. This is a problem for Vivzie where she doesn’t want to commit to representation or feels she doesn’t need to. Vivzie could’ve made Alastor’s design look more like his leaked human design or couldve just altered his colours a bit, but she didn’t do this because she feels so connected to her original high school OC design that she cant bring herself to change him. Like look at this.

Yeah it’s got a different style, but this is the same guy; he’s just weirdly marketable now. It’s incredibly easy to tell that Vivzie didn’t want to change him if she didn’t 100% have to. Lets take a look at Alastor’s old human design.

This guy definitely looks like he could be Alastor! He’s got the same sort of hair but shorter in the back and a little more combed, but looking at this you can still tell it’s Alastor. However this guy doesn’t exactly seem mixed, right? That’s because he isn’t! Back way way in ye olden days when Alastor went from race ambiguous to white, he just kind of looked like that! And there’s no problem with him being white! Good for him on doing that! I guess!? But when you look his design now, things start to come off as a bit odd.

This is where you non-leakers go read somethin else

This is an entirely different person now. Not just race wise, but personality, the way he presents himself in the arts pose, and just overall the actual look of the character. He looks conniving yes, but he doesn’t look like Alastor. This is not a face matchup.

Now, you definitely can have your ugly little red thing design and still use that human one! You just have to not be too chicken to actually change your character so it makes sense. Let me demonstrate.

Shocking how easily this design can fit the human one while still maintaining the original aesthetic of the base design isn’t it! This Alastor looks like the provided new human design. If you don’t want the character to change, don’t change them physically. And if you do, follow through on it and don’t be a wimp. I don’t see whats so hard to grasp about that to this lady. If you want to keep that same ugly fucking bob then just keep him white. She literally only changed his race so she can use it as an excuse to appropriate vodou. Vivzie can draw POC, she just doesn’t want to when it comes to actually having to change a character. Anyway, good day!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #alastor hazbin art #alastor hazbin #alastor the radio demon #human alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel leaks #hazbin leaks #hazbin spoilers #my art #anti vivziepop

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kenziebluex · 7 months ago

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Alpha, Beta or Omega - Hashira

(18+)

Headcanons of the 8 hashira and whether they are an alpha, beta, or omega. Including turn ons and turn offs for each hashira.

Minors do not interact.

✿❀○❀✿

Giyū Tomioka ~ Water Hashira ~ Omega

Listen, I'm not saying Giyu is the biggest bottom but I'm also saying exactly that. He enjoys it too. He doesn’t mind being submissive because it gives him a sense of peace. Having to not make decisions and letting go is exactly what the hashira needs. He doesn’t mind not having a voice in meetings and prefers to leave it up to his alpha.

Turn Ons: Cockwarming, Shower Sex, Teasing, & Multiple Orgasm

Turn Offs: Sensory Deprivation & Public Sex

“Please (Sir/Ma’am), can I just stay a bit longer”

“Just one more,,, just let me cum one more time please”

Sanemi Shinazugawa ~ Wind Hashira ~ Alpha

He doesn’t follow instructions. It’s no one that can tell this alpha what to do. He is very stubborn but that just comes with his status. During the meetings he is the first one to speak up and he will be heard by the others. Sanemi is the key definition of a dominant alpha but when he’s alone with his omega he can be very affectionate. He loves seeing his omega aroused for him and only him. With that being said he can be aggressive in bed but never causes his omega unwanted pain only the pain they ask for.

Turn Ons: Begging(receiving), Sexual Tension, Rough Sex, & Wall Sex

Turn Offs: Injuries & Painplay

“ *chuckles* I thought you said you can take it,,, be still”

“Keep it open for me baby,,, my little slut”

“Mine”

Kyōjurō Rengoku ~ Flame Hashira ~ Beta

Rengoku is a beta but will still run over those who don’t know how to tame his vibrant and mildly overbearing personality. Often clueless and needs to be guided when it comes to making decisions. He thankfully retains information very well and can follow instructions especially when it comes to pleasing his partner. Adaptable and often agreeable. He’s not afraid to try anything at least once.

Turn Ons: Rough Sex, Oral Fixation, & Praise Kink

Turn Offs: Degradation & Edging

“You can tug on my hair,,, don’t worry”

“Do I do it like this?”

“Just wanna be good for you”

Tengen Uzui ~ Sound Hashira ~ Alpha

He may be an alpha but he surely does aim to please. His powerful personality and tall height makes him the perfect alpha. In meetings he observes but also gives his input which is a great help to his pack. Tengen’s sex drive is very high. Which leads him to have multiple partners just to satisfy his needs. He doesn’t care if they are omegas, betas, or alphas. In the bedroom he prefers to take charge but don't worry he doesn’t mind sitting back and letting his lover do all the worksometimes.

Turn Ons: Exhibitionism, Spanking, Light Bondage, & Fingerfucking

Turn Offs: Orgasm Denial & Lazy Sex

“Now that’s very flashy,,, keep going”

“There you go, both of you cum for me”

Shinobu Kochō ~ Insect Hashira ~ Alpha

Shinobu doesn’t have much patience when it comes to betas and alphas but in the bedroom she likes to draw it out. She’s the take charge type of person. At least when she does she knows the task is done right. She usually does not comment in the meetings until the end when the important information needs to be summarized. She wants her omega to need and depend on her. Just like poison her arousal sneaks up on her and she enjoys watching it sneak up on her partner as well.

Turn Ons: Phone Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, & Sensation Play

Turn Offs: Rough Sex

“Wanna watch you,,, go slowly for me?”

“If you cum to soon i'll be very disappointed”

Obanai Iguro ~ Snake Hashira ~ Omega

He only cares about the pleasure of his partner. Obanai prefers to be submissive but doesn’t enjoy being bossed around unless it’s in the bedroom. During pack meetings is the only time you will see him engaging with people. He is 100% the stoic type unless he is in the comfort of his alpha. Obanai enjoys being loud for his alpha and loves the praise he receives when he’s being good for his partner.

Turn Ons: Dirty Talk, Needy Sex, Begging, & Mommy/Daddy Kink

Turn Offs: Public Sex

“Please (Mommy/Daddy),,, i'll be good I promise”

“*whimpering* Fuck”

Mitsuri Kanroji ~ Love Hashira ~ Alpha

Mitsuri is an alpha but she doesn’t mind playing beta once in a while. During meetings she’s quiet but the majority of the time she’s observing her surroundings. She has no problem asserting her dominance when people mistake her for an omega because of misogyny. She prefers to be on top and doesn't enjoy giving up too much control. She is just that girl. She enjoys seeing her omega or beta flustered and begging while she plays with them.

Turn Ons: Teasing, Sex Toys, & Multiple Orgasms, Mommy Kink(receiving)

Turn Offs: Rough Kissing

“I thought you were going to be good for mommy?”

“Hmm what toy should I use today?,,, i’ll let you choose this time”

“Faster/Slower”

Gyōmei Himejima ~ Stone Hashira ~ Alpha

Gyomei is an alpha because of his tall statue and his ability to command the room. One look at him and the room falls silent. During meetings, no one challenges him when he gives an order. If he tells you to sit you must sit. This is often reflected in the bedroom as well. If he gives his omega an command he knows they are going to follow his order. Gyomei doesn’t need sight to know they will gladly get on their knees for him. He can be found praying before and after sex and expects his omega to pray before sex as well.

Turn Ons: Vocal Sex, Blow Jobs(receiving), Crying & Bondage

Turn Offs: Bodily Fluids & Clothes Sex

“Namu-Amidabutsu”

Hope you enjoyed! Follow for more!

-Des

#demon slayer #demon slayer smut #demon slayer headcanons #kny smut #kny obanai #kny mitsuri #obanai iguro #tengen uzui #rengoku kyojuro #sanemi shinazugawa #mitsuri kanroji #shinobu kocho #gyomei himejima #kny rengoku #kny tengen #giyuu tomioka #kny giyuu #smut

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buzzcutlip · 2 months ago

Text

Cracks and Gaps - The Cat Shrine (part III) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Explicit 8539 words

A/N: This chapter is a bit longer than I expected but it's also packed with stuff that needs to be said and done. Plus! I believe this part offers all we've been waiting for iykwim

THE CAT SHRINE "Carmen!" You snap your fingers next to his ear.

"Yeah," he replies, blue eyes melting into yours like ice daggers.

"You're not concentrating," you accuse, huffing.

"I am!"

"You're so not."

Shaking your head, you put your phone down, tired of trying to show the chef the progress The Bear has made in its social media presence. You don’t think it’s important for him to know all the details, but he should be fully informed.

"You haven’t even downloaded Instagram, have you?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"Uhm…" Carmen shifts uncomfortably, guilt written all over his face.

"I knew it!" you exclaim. Although you want to be strict, wanting him to know you take your work seriously and wanting him to acknowledge it, you start laughing when you see the long face he’s pulling. He looks like a dog caught peeing on the rug.

"What’re you laughing at?" Carmen asks sullenly.

You shake your head. "Nothin'," but you still snicker. You like teasing him a little.

When you calm down, you take a sip of your soda from the funky Superdawg cup and take a deep breath. The parking lot offers no shade, and there’s sweat gathering at your hairline. You watch the two mascots—Laurie and Flaurie, sausages perched on the roof of the drive-in. Thousands of people must have done the exact same thing since this spot opened in the '50s.

"Do you think Nat really wants me at Pete’s birthday?" you ask, your face serious. From Carmen's expression, you can tell he appreciates the change.

"I think so," he affirms. "She wouldn’t have asked otherwise."

"She’s too nice. She knows I would find out about it eventually," you muse aloud. "Like, that would be awkward… I hope it’s not only 'cause of the interview and stuff."

Carmen lights a cigarette, shaking his head. "Bullshit." He always waits to smoke until no one around is eating.

You shrug, faking nonchalance, but the idea of Natalie inviting you out of obligation makes you feel sick to your stomach. You don’t need favors or fawning over.

Carmen blows the blue smoke in the opposite direction from you. "She likes you."

The car hood is hot under your butt, and your cutoff denim shorts aren’t doing much to protect your skin. You shimmy uncomfortably, hissing.

Next to you, Carmen looks down at you, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"It’s hot," you whine, trying to tug the shorts lower.

"You okay?" Carmen checks.

"I’m fine," you sigh. "I’m glad to be baking my ass on metal, actually," you say, picking the last bits of caramelized onion from the paper tray. "I watched The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo yesterday. Listened to way too much of Ethel Cain…"

Carmen keeps looking at you, clearly not following.

"'s dark stuff," you sigh again, being pretty dramatic just for effect. You definitely don’t feel too affected by Nordic crime books or songs about escaping a cult and cannibalism. It takes you somewhere else, mentally. Not a bad place, necessarily.

"Uhm—hopefully the hot dog’s cheered you up?" Carmen asks, popping a fry into his mouth, then wiping his hand with the back of his tattooed fingers. They’re long and graceful, the nail beds clean with minimal hangnails. You want to lick them clean.

You give him a smile. A genuine one. "Yep."

Not just the hot dog.

Carmen’s brows furrow a bit as he glances at you, a small smile playing on his lips despite himself. "You’re hard to read sometimes. Like—hm—I don’t know if you’re joking or not."

"You say that like it’s a bad thing," you tease, giving him a playful nudge. His hand steadies itself on the hood as the sun glints off it, the Chicago heat thick in the air around you.

"It’s not," Carmen says, his tone softer now. "It feels more genuine. Authentic. It’s kinda... nice."

You raise an eyebrow, amused by his awkward sincerity. "Kinda?"

Carmen chuckles, shaking his head as if embarrassed by the admission. "Fine. It’s nice."

You smirk, pleased with yourself for drawing him out of his usual seriousness.

"Nat wouldn’t have invited you if she didn’t want you there, you know," Carmen says, circling back to your earlier worry.

"I guess," you reply, still a bit skeptical. "Just don’t wanna be somewhere I don’t really belong."

Carmen’s gaze hardens a little, a quiet determination settling in his voice. "You do belong."

You meet his eyes, surprised at the firmness in his words. For all his hesitation and self-doubt, Carmen has a way of saying the simplest things with absolute certainty when he means it.

"Okay," you reply quietly.

—

In the late afternoon, you arrive at Pete and Natalie’s house. The sunlight’s casting a warm glow over the tree-lined streets, and you’re grateful that the heat’s eased off and you aren’t sweaty and gross before you get in. The house is beautifully maintained, with a fresh coat of paint, a well-kept yard, and soft music spilling out through the open windows. Pete’s job clearly allows them a bit of comfort. For the first time since you were here, all those months ago, you notice these little details.

As you make your way up the walkway, you notice a stroller parked just inside the entryway, along with a soft baby blanket draped over the arm of a chair near the door—the quiet reminders of Natalie and Pete’s new life as parents. You hear soft baby coos over the sound of conversation, which makes you smile. Yet, it’s a reminder that maybe you yourself should start thinking of this kind of life. A life with a serious partner you might start a family with. Someone you will spend the rest of your life with. Probably. Hopefully.

Inside, the party is subdued yet lively. Guests drift through the kitchen and living room, chatting and laughing. You greet a few familiar faces, but you’re not really that close with most of them. The place is clean and pretty, the opposite of the mess you experienced in May. You quickly spit out your gum into a tissue you find in your pocket.

Richie finds you first, thrusting a glass of mimosa in your hand. You didn’t plan on drinking, but this could help with your nerves. You’re not great in new settings, around people you don’t know very well. Luckily, you’re pretty good with kids and you really like Natalie, so when she spots you, you spend about 30 minutes chatting while a few people gather around you. She gives you the baby to hold, and the little boy dozes off in your arms. When Nat takes him back to put him down in the crib, you excuse yourself from Jimmy’s wife and another older lady to go find water and maybe something small to eat.

The kitchen is quiet compared to the rest of the house, and you’re not surprised to find Carmen there, cutting carrots into precise sticks, his knife moving with calm precision. He doesn’t notice you at first, so you have a moment to take in his wide, muscled back under a thin sweater. It’s a very, very nice back that you would really, really like to see without any clothes.

You shake your head, pulling yourself together.

You clear your throat. “Hi.”

The sound startles him, and he jumps, the knife slipping from his fingers onto the cutting board with a loud clatter. “Fuck!” he mutters, spinning around to see you.

“Sorry!” you hurry to apologize, walking all the way to him. “Did you cut yourself?”

“No, it’s fine,” Carmen reassures you, taking a deep breath. “Hey,” he greets you back, a bit calmer now. He seems a bit surprised to see you.

“So, I find you in the kitchen, of all places,” you say with a smile, leaning on the wall. Under your arm is a thick paper envelope with the fresh magazine issue inside.

“I thought maybe you wouldn’t come.” His expression shifts to something warm, less guarded than what you’re used to. You almost blush at his words, unsure of what to take away from them.

Your fingers tighten around the envelope for a moment before you gather the courage to hand it over to him. “I wanted to show you this today.”

Carmen’s gaze drops to the big envelope, and he takes it from you. When he opens it, he sees himself on the cover, and there’s a pause. The main title reads, "Chef Carmen: The Story That Matters."

You feel a slight flutter of nerves. “I wanted to give you a chance to see it before anyone else. We just received a couple of copies yesterday. It’s not on newsstands for another week.”

Carmen nods but stays quiet, just flipping through the pages. You made sure Nat went over the final images with him, confirming he’s okay with the selection, and with the cover that features him wearing a pair of smart black pants and a white t-shirt revealing his tattoos. You see him skimming the article, glancing at the photos of himself in the kitchen and on the set. There are a couple with the whole team at The Bear.

“It’s… weird,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Seeing myself like this.”

You tilt your head curiously. “You’ve been in magazines. Even on the cover.”

“Yeah—just—” he glances back at the pages. “Not with a project that’s as personal as The Bear.”

You nod, understanding. It is revealing. While transcribing the interview and writing the whole feature, you finally had a chance to see through the cracks and gaps and get a glimpse of the real Carmen. The one hiding behind his unapproachable facade.

Carmen shakes his head, chuckling softly. “It’s… a lot. But it’s good,” he admits, his voice soft. He looks back at you, and you can feel the gratitude there, unspoken but genuine. “Thank you. You put a lot of work into this.”

You give a small shrug, trying to keep your own emotions in check.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I doubted you.” The reference to the bumpy start stings, and you almost grimace. “It’s… it’s everything you’ve done to get us here. I don’t think anyone’s ever believed in me like that.”

You want to say something silly, like, “Oh, I knew you’d be the top chef in Copenhagen already,” but you can’t get the words out. You don’t frequent The Bear as often as you used to. After the incident with Carmen, and even after all the apologies, you agreed they would find a proper social media manager, and you would help occasionally. But now you’ve started meeting Carmen outside the kitchen much more, venturing further into the restaurant world with a top chef as your guide. He’s changed, you think. Maybe both of you have.

Finally, Carmen breaks the silence, letting out a small, almost bashful laugh. “Guess I should, uh, keep this somewhere safe?”

You smile, relieved to feel the tension ease, and nod. “Yeah, please. Maybe show it to them when you’re back at work tomorrow? I’m sure Sydney and the others would get a kick out of seeing it.”

You watch Carmen tuck the magazine back into the envelope, and you feel the moment slipping past you. You clear your throat, gathering yourself before you speak.

“Actually, there’s… this event next week,” you start, fidgeting slightly. “It’s a charity cocktail—kind of formal, for a nonprofit that supports community kitchens. I wanted to ask if you’d come with me.”

Carmen raises an eyebrow, caught between curiosity and amusement. “Me?”

“Yeah,” you say with a shrug that you hope comes off casual. “I mean, you’re on the cover of Taste now, and people will hear about it soon. Thought it’d be nice to… y’know, show you off a little.”

He looks down, an almost shy grin tugging at his mouth. “Didn’t think I was the ‘show-off’ type.”

“Oh, you totally are,” you reply, grinning. “Besides, Nat mentioned you might need to make an appearance or two—good publicity for The Bear and all that.”

Carmen nods, as if he’s already half-resigned. “She has been dropping hints,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was going to ask if you’d come with me to it, too. Got the invite a few weeks back.”

“Oh,” you say, raising your eyebrows. “I thought we’re friends now. You should've asked sooner,” and you hope the word “friends” sounds as casual as you intended.

“Okay—then yes,” Carmen says, and there’s a challenge in his voice, his face serious. It’s clear he doesn’t want to seem like someone afraid of public events and social gatherings in general. You do know the truth, which makes you chuckle.

“How fancy is the event, you think?” he checks, sounding slightly discouraged now.

“Not that fancy, don’t worry.” You grin, leaning a bit closer. “Nothing that calls for a tux, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I can wear a tux,” he juts out his chin, and it’s such a sudden change to his normal demeanor that you feel a bit weak in the knees for a second. Confidence suits him, as you know. And not only while he’s being the Chef.

“No doubt,” you agree with a smile, taking a tray with homemade hummus and carrot sticks from him.

“Oh—I’ve been meaning to ask you,” you remember as you’re both exiting the kitchen with more prepared food in your hands. “How did you survive the photo shoot and interview without any smoke breaks?”

He looks up at you and stays quiet for a moment.

“Nicotine patches. I had to put on three at the same time.”

And you laugh.

—

Carmen picks you up on Thursday at six-thirty. You chew through half a packet of gum while getting ready. A mix of feelings is swirling around in your stomach—excitement, nervousness, and an utter disbelief that you’re so worked up about a professional evening with Carmen.

When he buzzes the intercom, you jump, giving yourself an unnecessary scare, then roll your eyes at yourself. Grabbing a small black purse, you lock up behind yourself and make your way down the four flights of stairs. The air outside is slightly cool from the late afternoon rain, the fresh smell hitting your nose and making you nostalgic.

“Oh my god,” your heart drops to your stomach the second you look at Carmen, who is blankly staring with the most perplexed expression you’ve ever seen. “Have I messed up? Is this inappropriate?” Trying to read more from Carmen’s face, you lift your trembling hands to your mouth. What have you done? Why do you always have to have your way?

You look down at your draped top, barely covering your shoulders, and wide, pleated pants you opted for instead of a more traditional skirt or dress. You’re also wearing high-heeled Mary Janes that bring you to the same height level as Carmen. You hoped he’d get the fashion statement.

“I’m—I can change,” you stammer, turning halfway back to the door, already thinking about what you could swap this for.

As Carmen starts saying, “No, no,” you say, “It said semi-formal.” Carmen reaches for your hand and gently pulls it from your mouth. You’re still confused and freaking out, not understanding anything.

“I just meant—I just wanted to say,” Carmen swallows, “that you look lovely.”

“Oh god,” you sigh heavily with relief, and you both laugh—Carmen a bit awkwardly, and you breathlessly. “Screw you.” You’re pretty sure you feel two stones lighter suddenly.

It’s only later, when you’re both sitting in the back of a taxi taking you to The Field Museum, that you realize what Carmen said. He said you looked pretty. Oh.

—

“This is going to be so awkward,” Carmen says, his eyes never leaving the big, open door with a stream of nicely dressed people heading in through it. The large, Neoclassical building is imposing with its massive Corinthian columns, giving off an air of true greatness.

“Oh, c’mon,” you whine. “I’m actually really excited to see it from the inside without the usual visitors. It’s gonna be fine. You can even get drunk, if you want to.”

“Uh—I don’t really drink,” Carmen says as he finishes off his cigarette, stubbing the end and flicking the butt into the ashtray.

“Maybe tonight you will.” You smile sweetly. Of course, you would never even think of pressuring Carmen—or anyone— into drinking alcohol, but the faded image of the two of you in his houseboat in Copenhagen pops into your head.

“We can just check out Ancient Egypt and go,” you suggest as you watch Carmen fidget nervously from the corner of your eye.

He gives you a tight smile, one that doesn't reach his eyes, then offers you his arm, and together you go in.

The East Atrium is lit up and arranged with round tables and smaller, tall bar tables. It’s a modern addition to the museum designed to blend with the historic architecture. Through the large windows facing the lake, you can see the sun starting to set. There are fresh flowers—hydrangeas, peonies, and tuberose—in the vases decorating the space, and you can’t help but touch the soft petals as you stand by one of the arrangements.

Carmen’s gaze shifts around the room. His arm tenses slightly under your hand, and you can tell he's trying to look relaxed, even as his fingers keep flexing in his pocket. “See? It’s nice in here, right?” you whisper, trying to catch his eye, hoping for a little reassurance that he’s not hating every second. So far, you’ve only met two people you know—clients who regularly advertise in Taste and who did recognize Carmen, pulling him into an intense conversation about cooking stoves. When he spoke to the clients, you noticed his voice was polite but guarded, the rhythm clipped, almost rehearsed. Different from when he talks to you.

Carmen gives a reluctant nod. “Yeah, it’s…not bad.” He scans the room again, and you feel for him, guessing he’s probably trying to uncover any other potential danger. Then he notices the flowers you’ve gravitated toward, and his mouth quirks up—just a bit. “You really like flowers, huh?” he says quietly, watching you brush your fingers over the soft petals.

You grin and shrug. The scent of tuberose mingles with the warmth of the evening, and you get the best idea. “Want to skip the mingling and find the mummies?” you offer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “I mean, what’s a night at the Field Museum without a little ancient history?”

Carmen lets out a soft chuckle, a rare sound that feels like a victory. “Yeah,” he says, sounding almost relieved. “Let’s do that.” As you make your way across the Atrium, Carmen keeps close by your side, your arms brushing. When he opens the door for you, his hand hovers just above the small of your back, the warmth radiating from his palm seeping into your spine through your clothes. The murmured “thanks” is the most you can do without embarrassing yourself.

—

“My dad is obsessed with mummies. He used to take me here at least twice a year when I was a kid,” you say as you aim your phone camera to capture the sleeping artifact. “I’ve never been here after the closing hours though.”

You send a quick, funny message to the chat group you have with your parents, and put the phone back into your purse. Although the narrow corridors and the displays are the same as they were years ago, it never gets old to you.

“I don’t think my parents took me places,” Carmen says next to you, studying the plaque next to the mummy and its decorated sarcophagus. “To cultural institutes and shit. We spent a lot of time at home, or running around our block.”

You feel a pang in your chest for little-boy Carmy. On the other hand, you know that you can’t judge other people’s experiences and the quality of their childhoods and lives based on yours.

“You’re here now. And you can ask anything. I can pretend to be a qualified guide,” you half-joke.

Carmen chuckles softly, though his gaze stays fixed on the ancient figure in its case. His eyes trace over the faded bandages, the meticulous, centuries-old work of preservation.

“It’s just an illusion. Most of the exhibits we see in museums have been stolen from the original countries as part of colonialism or wars,” you sigh, studying the gold jewelry in a display behind the thick glass. “It shouldn’t be like that.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of messed up.”

Next, you check the Book of the Dead and the reconstruction of the ancient marketplace. Here and there, you bump into other people drifting in from the atrium, taking the opportunity to experience the free exhibition too.

“I think I need a drink after the cat shrine,” Carmen points out once you make it back to the lively space of the Atrium. The glass ceiling reveals that the evening’s turned into night. “It was kinda creepy,” he says with a certain hint of unease. You chuckle, patting him lightly on the back. “I think that’s the point. Cats are guardians of the afterlife, gazing into your soul. Maybe they picked you out for judgment, Carmen.” He shudders slightly, pulling a face. “I’d rather stick to cooking for the living.”

More people approach you as you wait at the bar—old colleagues of Carmen from Ever, hospitality people you’ve interviewed, and Regina, the head of sales from Taste.

Carmen holds the two drinks as you find a table off to the side, both of you grateful for the secluded spot. He slides your drink over to you. The tired look on his face proves he’s not too thrilled about the impromptu reunion with old colleagues.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan club,” you point out. The way Regina was looking at Carmen sticks with you—the way she talked to him. Like she wanted to eat him alive. Or fuck him.

Carmen rolls his eyes. “Didn’t realize it’d be a whole industry meetup. Thought I was off-duty tonight.”

“You couldn't have possibly thought that.”

You mirror Carmen and take a sip of the drink to find out what he’s ordered for you.

“That’s—that’s licorice vodka,” you stammer out.

Carmen nods. “Yeah, can you believe they have it here?” A small, secretive smile plays around his eyes. “Did I hit the target, Copenhagen?” Your eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected nostalgia that hits you as you recognize the drink. It’s simple, unassuming, yet oddly perfect—a reminder of countless late nights and blurry memories from Denmark. You can’t believe he’s remembered. “Yeah,” you say, recovering. “You hit the target.”

Instead of pondering more about the reasons, or the lack of them, behind Carmen’s gesture, you look down at your feet, hissing. “Do your feet hurt?”

“Fuck yes. Like hell!” You can’t help but grimace as you shift your weight, feeling the pinch of your shoes.

Carmen watches you shuffle uncomfortably, and he hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh…you sure you’re okay?” he asks.

“It’s fine. I was expecting this.”

You take a sip of your drink again, thinking of what you want to say next.

“Do you do all this because of what happened?” you ask, looking at the floor behind his shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“The—what happened in the restaurant office,” you add in a small voice, hating to talk about the incident.

Carmen reaches out to lightly touch your hand on the table. “I should've never behaved that way. I was a real dick.”

“That mean yes or no?” you inquire, your heart picking up speed. You don’t know why you’re getting nervous again. “You’ve been super nice to me. And a—a good, uhm, friend.” You say the word ‘friend’ so tentatively it’s almost inaudible in the room. Maybe you hope Carmen’s gonna overhear. It’s such a fragile label of what’s between you.

Carmen actually huffs out a small laugh before he says: “Be nice to nice,” and you lift your head up to glance at him, finding him smiling, so you smile back. You just smile back and don’t say anything else. This is all you need.

—

The next morning, the sun feels harsher than it should. It streams through the blinds, making everything feel just a little too bright, a little too real after last night. You had expected to wake up tired, but what you didn’t expect was the quiet echo of Carmen’s smile and his casual, soft touches lingering in your chest and beneath your skin. Fuck, you think self-deprecatingly. You try to shake it off as you rush to work, but it’s impossible.

During the morning briefing, you keep checking your phone for new messages, but there are none from Carmen. It’s hard not to hope for a follow-up after last night. As innocent and friendly as the whole evening had been, ignoring your growing affection for the chef is impossible now.

When your phone buzzes during your lunch break, a quick glance at the screen tells you it’s Natalie, texting in her usual efficient bursts: Nat: New special menu to be launched tomorrow. Can you stop by The Bear tonight? Nat: Just to check how we wanna communicate it on SoMe. Nothing major! You barely finish reading before the familiar flutter sets in. Nothing major for Natalie usually means chaos in the making. But it’s not her message that has you rushing home after work—it’s the possibility of seeing Carmen again. By the time you’ve touched up your makeup and slipped into a new outfit, your nerves are buzzing. Carmen’s commented on your dresses a couple of times, so you feel like that’s definitely the right choice. You put together a dark blue button-through summer dress with tiny white dots, and a pair of cowboy boots, giving you a look that’s casually cool.

As you get ready, you wonder how Carmen feels about seeing you again so soon after last night. You wonder if he thought about the drink he picked for you, or the way he laughed—so much that his dimples, which you had almost forgotten about, kept appearing by his mouth.

The service is in full swing when you arrive, so you automatically use the back door, heading to the office as quickly as possible through the intensity of the kitchen. You don’t even try to catch a glimpse of blond hair or that familiar white chef’s jacket, even though you terribly want to.

“Looks like it’s already a madhouse,” you say, sliding into the chair next to Natalie in the office. “When isn’t it?” Nat quips, finally looking up with a wry smile. She nods toward the kitchen. “Carmy’s back there somewhere. I told him you’d swing by.” Your stomach does a little flip at the mention of his name, but you nod casually, as if it doesn’t affect you at all. “Okay, let’s see this menu then.”

Natalie starts explaining the dishes, her words efficient but animated, as she describes the seasonal ingredients and the thought behind the pairings. It’s funny how similar the siblings are. Maybe not at first glance, but as you’ve gotten to know them better, you notice the resemblance more often than not.

As if summoned by your thoughts, the door swings open, and Carmen steps out. His brows are furrowed in that intense, focused way that somehow makes him look even more attractive. Your breath catches, and you quickly look down at the paper in front of you, pretending to study the menu notes.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and quiet, as he approaches the table. He nods at Natalie, then turns his attention to you. His gaze flickers briefly to your dress. “Hi,” you reply, trying not to sound too breathless. “Thanks for coming,” Carmen says, his eyes lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary before shifting back to Natalie. “So, what’s the plan?”

As Natalie launches into the logistics, you can’t help but steal glances at Carmen. He’s close enough that you catch the faint scent of his cologne, and when his fingers brush yours as he passes a page of notes, it feels electric, sending a spark up your arm. If you’d struggled to concentrate earlier, it’s almost impossible now. And you’re the one who’s supposed to share ideas and opinions.

The whole thing stretches into a menu tasting in the only calmer spot in the kitchen—you taking photos just in case, brainstorming about the introduction wording. Then Carmen and Natalie get into a fight—unsurprisingly—before making up. It’s like being on a swing with them, and the whole environment of the kitchen—hot, fast, frantic—makes it even more intense.

—

Absolutely on purpose, you finish fiddling with Instagram just before 11:30 p.m. in the empty kitchen, getting up when you hear what must be Carmen taking out his civvies from his locker. You take your bomber jacket and a handbag, walking over there.

“Hi,” you say, and Carmen’s head pops up through the hole of his crewneck sweater.

“Hey,” he says back. “You’re still here?”

You nod. “Thank you again for yesterday. For taking me with you.”

Carmen looks up at you from where he’s changing his Birkenstocks for white sneakers. “Didn’t you take me with you?” he jokes.

“It was nice either way,” you say, putting on your jacket and hoping Carmen doesn’t hear the hope in your voice. It’s hard to keep the softness you feel for him out of your words.

Carmen hoists his backpack onto his shoulder. “You leaving too?”

“Yep.”

He holds the back door for you, touching your lower back lightly the way he had yesterday. You bite your lip at the slightest contact, resisting the urge to reach back and touch his hand.

You lean against the wall by the door as Carmen locks up and then lights up a cigarette. You haven’t talked much for the rest of the dinner service, but he seems more relaxed, smiles more often. It has you smiling too.

“What?” he checks when he looks over at you.

You shake your head but the smile persists. “Nothin’... I’m glad it all has worked out,” you sigh with relief and content.

Carm blows the smoke above his head, watching it disappear. “Thanks to you,” he says seriously.

“No. No, we talked about this yesterday. I don’t need any credit in this,” you’re shaking your head in resolution, a frown forming on your face. “I don’t want it.”

He steps closer, crowding you against the wall, intention flashing in his eyes, and you can't breathe. Can't imagine that the timid chef would want - that he would want you in a way you've been wanting him.

Carmen gets into your space, and your hands land on his waist, finding purchase on the waistband of his jeans. “Carmy,” you breath out quietly, head tilted down. You don't know what's going to happen but the close proximity to the chef makes you breathless. His hands cradle your face. You only feel the gentle touch, scared to face Carmen fully. But you can smell him again - his deodorant and hair product. Cigarettes.

He surprises you though. “Why do you always smell like cinnamon?” he mumbles, his breath tickling the baby hair around your ear, his mouth an inch from it.

“It's the - the gum,” you answer, trying to stay calm despite your heart beating like crazy. Only now you do realize you called him Carmy. It felt right.

You're not sure for how much longer you can stay still, but Carmen seems to have no trouble dragging the situation out. You are restless, though, you just have to do something.

So you tilt your face up and you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss him. Just to press your lips against Carmy’s, nothing else. It’s actually more of an act to break the tension than an actual kiss. You feel absolutely stupid a mere second after you are back on your feet fully, Carmen right in front of you, unmoving.

“Am I reading this all wrong?” you ask when the chef remains silent, avoiding eye contact with you.

He shakes his curly head, putting space between you two—unwittingly or not, you don’t want to think about it now—and runs a palm over his face, scratching the back of his neck. His body leaning away, the stupid crewneck pulling tight across his shoulders with the stretch of Carmen’s muscles.

“You’re not,” he says, and you almost feel giddy. You bite your lip to stop smiling. Carmen looks pained and worried, and you don’t want to be smiling.

“Then what’s going on?” you ask, reaching for his wrist and stroking the protruding bones there lightly.

“Just—I just feel like I’m going to fuck everything up.”

Slowly, you sway back closer to him, putting all your own nervousness behind. You lay one of your palms against his chest, hoping it could comfort him, the other one back on his waist.

“You know you are hot—” you say quietly, not quite looking him in the eye, “—attractive.” You correct yourself quickly.

“What?” Carmen says, and you can feel him relax a tiny bit, twisting his hand so it’s holding the one that had been on his wrist.

“You work out. You must know that you look good.” You slide your palm a little lower to the abs hiding under his cotton shirt.

It sounds awfully a lot like flirting, but you don’t even know how to flirt. You are honestly so bad at it. And this is only the truth, anyway.

Carmy’s definitely wearing a blush that’s matching yours. It’s spreading down his neck and lower, where you want to put your mouth.

“I just run. Sometimes. After work,” Carmen stammers a little incoherently, probably feeling like you are expecting an answer, or an explanation. And you know he runs every day, and does push-ups and God knows what. It’s a known fact in the kitchen. That’s how he puts space between “work” and “life.” A divider. Even just so small. You understand it. The need to know where your job ends and you start. You can also imagine that it’s something very difficult to distinguish for Carmen.

“I hate running,” you note, your honest mind is too quick to think twice. “But still—I would really like to kiss you. Properly.”

A car wheezes around you, way past the speed limit, and Carmen stares after it. He takes a visible, deep breath, looking into the street on the right, where the street lamps turn into small yellow, glowing balls. It bares the side of his neck to you, thick and vulnerable, and you can’t not look. A shiver runs through you from the evening chill, or maybe something else, too.

“Can we—would you maybe like to come over to my place?” you ask, probably the bravest you’ve ever been.

Carmen clearly thinks about the situation for a couple of seconds before he says: “Ok. Let’s go.”

You blink once, say nothing, and head toward the L with him by your side.

—

On the staircase, Carmen takes your hand into his, long fingers sliding along the top of your hand. While you're unlocking the door, you wonder if Mikaela left potato peels and apricot stones and orange rinds on the kitchen counter in her so-called open compost.

“Come in,” you say over your shoulder. The old, brass hanger is by the main door and you hang your jacket there, then take Carmen's to put away there too. “Would you like something to drink?” you ask politely, stalling on purpose. “We have - “ in all honesty, you are almost scared to open the fridge but Carmen is still standing where you left him, by the door. “We have tonic - “ without his friend gin that disappeared on Saturday - “ - or tap water.”

Carmen's wearing his gray crewneck and in combination with his mussed hair, he looks incredibly soft. “'m fine,” he says, looking at you with his big eyes, looking nervous but somewhat calm. Like he doesn't want to run away, which instantly comes to you as a huge relief.

You go to switch on the two small lamps placed around the room that you call the living room, which is obviously part kitchen and dining room too. The light makes everything even softer, a gentle sort of atmosphere. Suddenly it's easy to find each other in the middle of the room, right where the sofa with patchwork cushions are. WIthout a moment of hesitation, you kinda meet in the middle, and finally, you get to taste Carmen Berzatto.

It takes a few slow, lingering kisses to get bolder, and to your surprise, it's Carmen who gently slips his tongue into your mouth first, and you briefly wonder if he can taste the cinnamon from your gum now. Slowly reaching up to put your hand on the nape of Carmy's neck, you feel the delicate golden chain lying against his vertebra. How long will it take to see him wearing only that?

You push him softly in the general direction of the sofa. It's old and too soft, but you love the faded gray upholstery and how homey the simple piece of furniture is. Soon Carmen´s sitting on it with you on his lap. You’re wearing the dark blue cotton dress and your boots that are digging in the sofa by Carmen's thighs.

Carmen´s not shy, kissing you fully, tilting your head to his liking, stroking your bare arms up and down. You’re breathless on top of him, fingers running through the dark blond curls, giving back as much as receiving. The two of you kiss for long minutes, and you love it. You love how he tastes and how he's touching you, but it's clear that he's holding back. Or maybe it’s just you who is completely overwhelmed with want and need.

“Are you - are you a virgin?” you dare to ask into his ear, kissing his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“What? No,” Carmen says, letting out a breathless laugh.

“It's fine if you are.”

“No,” he repeats.

“Ok.”

You lean back and take his hand to intertwine your fingers together. You can feel how warm your face is, the rushing of your heart.

“I just - just haven’t done anything. In a while,” Carmen says while looking at you, and he´s blushing, the apples of his cheeks darker than seconds ago.

“Me neither,” you reply in the same hushed voice caused by the dark room around you.

“You can touch me,” you invite him, bringing your joint hands to the apex of your thighs where the hem of your dress has rucked up. There´s nothing to be seen, the dress still covering your underwear, and you remember incidentally, that you are wearing a very plain pair of white knickers. Before he has a chance to react to your bold move, you duck down to kiss him, and everything drowns out the buzz of paralyzing excitement.

First you feel the soft touch of the back of his knuckles to press against your throbbing groin, too light to do anything than tease you. Carmen doesn't stop kissing you but it's slower, less measured, while he concentrates on the movement of his hand between your legs. He presses a bit harder, starts rubbing you in circles.

You shudder out a breath, tensing, fingers digging into his shoulders. “‘s nice,” you mutter into his mouth, face hot, too worried that if you don't encourage him, he might stop.

Carmen shortly hums in response and doesn’t stop. He presses open mouthed kisses against the side of your neck and down to the low neckline of your dress. You bite down on your lower lip, overwhelmed. It’s still hard to believe that you have Carmen here on your sofa, between your legs, his unruly curls between your fingers. Only now do you start to realize that you feel so much for him. That this is not just messing around. That you could actually fall in love with him. That you have been falling for him.

With a touch to his sharp jaw, you bring his face back to yours to kiss him deeply again, taking his free hand in yours to guide him, this time up to your breast. You squeeze the heavy weight of it and moan against the side of Carmy’s neck.

“I like it when it hurts a bit,” you whisper bashfully, too aware of how your hair sticks to your sweaty nape, the baby hairs by your ears probably curling with the humidity coming off your own burning skin.

Carmen nods and squeezes, a bit harder than you showed him, and you let out a surprised gasp that turns into a moan, head tilting back in pleasure. His thumb finds your nipple through two layers of clothing and he rubs against it, then pinches. Your eyes fly to his, wide and searching. Surprised by his obvious willingness to please you, you watch Carm’s actions almost breathlessly - how his eyebrows knot in concentration upon every measured touch, the way the tendons in his hand strain when he sneaks his fingers behind the elastic of your underwear. But you need to see more.

“Take this off,” you rasp out, grasping the material of Carmen’s jumper and tugging. “Off,” you mutter again, trying to help Carm out while he gets the garment over his head and off, chuckling breathlessly. You catch his smile and have to grin back, shyly but surely, and you kiss again, Carmen going back where he had stopped.

When you can open your eyes again, you enjoy the sight of Carmen’s muscles straining as he fingers you, looking down at where his fingers are disappearing into you, the elastic waistband digging into his wrist. He’s as concentrated and serious as he gets in the kitchen, plus turned on, if you can judge by the way he worries his bottom lip and the flush that’s spreading down his face to his long neck. Maybe he does get turned on when he’s in the kitchen, you muse, you just never noticed.

The never-ending string of your thoughts, even in this situation, unfortunately, is interrupted by Carm’s palm moving from your bare thigh up to your ass, his fingertips digging into the meat. His other hand speeds up, causing you to mutter, “Fuck,” into his ear.

“Can you come like this?” Carmen asks, and you can feel his wide eyes on you, even though you’re not looking.

“Give me a sec,” you answer in a breathy, raw voice, already mostly there. Your hand travels down into your underwear to touch your aching, swollen clit, while Carmy resumes, rubbing your walls inside. When he curls his fingers, the tips drag over your g-spot. That stirs all sorts of feelings in you, and you moan, then start grinding against his hand, his fingers. Those fingers that you watched chop and stir so many times in secret with quiet rapture, are now in you, bringing you to an orgasm.

Afraid that he could read too much from your face, you drag him into another kiss, dirtier and more desperate than the previous ones. As you near the peak, getting more and more desperate, unable to kiss Carm properly, he mouths at your collarbones, your chest, the top of your breasts. When he uses his teeth, you know he’s testing how far he can go, and you let out an encouraging sound.

Squeezing your eyes shut, your head tips back again, baring your throat to Carmen, as you come. You can feel your thighs tremble and your fingers squeeze Carmy’s shoulders momentarily. Once it washes over you, you slide off sideways from Carmen’s lap, breathing heavily and still biting your lip. You think you didn’t let out a single sound. You didn’t want to.

Carmen gives you a side glance, eyes glassy. He seems to be a bit breathless himself. You notice his eyes going to your breasts, where you can still feel wetness from his mouth, wondering if there are any actual marks left. Judging by the look on Carmen’s face, there might be.

Without thinking, you reach out and tug on the waistband of his Dickies.

“Yeah?” he says, looking at you.

“Yeah,” you nod.

With clumsy fingers, you open the button on Carmy’s pants together. You can’t help yourself — you push up the material of his t-shirt, revealing extra skin.

Your eyes widen as you scan his toned torso. “Running, huh?” you mutter teasingly, stroking your hand down his warm abdomen.

“Huh?” Carmen’s caught off guard, eyes following your hand. “Oh I — I do push-ups — erm — press-ups — sometimes. When I can't sleep.”

God, why is he sheepish? “And how much do you actually sleep?”

“Couple of hours,” he says, but the second word ends up cut off by a gasp as you touch Carmen’s dick, tugging it out from his underwear. He hisses, hips lifting up with the sensation, and you can see his tummy muscles contracting. You start stroking him slowly, as much as the angle allows you, trying out a firmer grip and then loosening up.

Not wanting to make Carmen uncomfortable with shameless staring, you press your face into the outer side of his arm, watching him from under his shoulder wordlessly. Based purely on his facial expressions, you adjust your fingers on his dick, and the rhythm. As expected, Carmy is utterly quiet, his strong jaw clenching. Only here and there, he lets out a harsh breath that you count as a victory. The t-shirt you have your nose buried in smells of generic laundry detergent, cigarettes, and caramelized onion. It also smells like Carmen — like a guy and antiperspirant.

It’s not long before Carmy squirms — “I’m not gonna last long,” he says, fists balling, and it’s so obvious he’s been holding himself back from fucking up into your hand that you feel almost sorry for him. On the other hand, this small thing between you is so fragile, and you are so anxious that you are going to fuck up, so you just bite your tongue and don’t comment on it.

“It’s fine,” you say low, lips moving against the t-shirt again, pretending you have not been watching his every expression, reading deep into every blink of his eyes, every time he wets his lips, jerks his pelvis up a bare inch with pleasure. The tip of his dick is as cherry pink as his lips are, you notice desperately, and you know this image is going to haunt you forever.

“It’s fine,” you repeat sweetly, speeding up your movements, and then Carmen is coming, thick ropes of it landing on your fingers and your wrist and his t-shirt that’s fallen back down over his stomach. He shakes with the force of his orgasm, and you watch his body in awe as it goes through it, still touching him, feeling the hot, slippery skin of his dick in your hand.

The rush of emotions is so strong that you almost panic. Then you look left and up at Carmen—he’s trying to catch his breath, his big eyes are glassy, and his lips are shiny with his own spit, and in that very moment, you believe that he can see right into the core of your own being.

You want to cradle his jaw and kiss him. Instead, you look away faster than he can. Miraculously, a box of Kleenex sits on the coffee table by the sofa, and you reach over to hand it to Carmen.

Next to you, you hear, more than see, Carmen wipe down the mess, pulling his t-shirt back down.

There are two options—either you get up quickly and this is all over for now, or you acknowledge what just happened and try to be all mature about it. To your own surprise, you go with the latter, turning to Carmen, reaching out to touch his forearm lightly.

He looks over at you and smiles, small and gentle.Then he leans in and kisses you on the lips before standing up.

“Can I smoke in here?” he asks, already searching his pockets.

“Yeah. From the kitchen window,” you point in the general direction of the window. There’s a chopped tomato can serving as an ashtray on the outside windowsill. Without a second look, you disappear into the bathroom to fix your damp underwear.

The night stretches, and Carmy never leaves. After his smoke break, you expect things to be awkward. But they aren’t. You split the two-day-old dinner leftovers—vegan spaghetti bolognese from Mikaela—and you eat it on the same sofa where you had been touching and kissing twenty minutes ago, while watching Modern Family, just to have something to fill in the silence that could become uncomfortable.

Carmen changes into your old baggy t-shirt. No denying that you would prefer him without it, but he asks for it himself. When he comes out of the bathroom and lies next to you, he smells of mint, and you hope he didn’t use your toothbrush without asking—because, “bleh”—and he reads your mind, because he says, “I brushed with toothpaste on my finger,” and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin.

You don’t know how, but you both fall asleep.

The stirring in the bed next to you is what wakes you up. Used to sleeping in your double bed by yourself, it takes your hazy brain a moment to remember that it’s not the case tonight. The light from the streetlamp filtering through the window blinds falls on the man next to you. You watch him wriggle under the sheet, sleepy and unguarded. He looks like an innocent boy—with his puffy eyes and messy hair falling over his forehead.

Meanwhile, Carmen’s eyes open and find yours. You’re unsure of what he sees on your face, but he outstretches his arm to touch your bare shoulder, and shuffles closer. Your stomach twists at the nearness.

“You okay?” you whisper groggily. “Aren’t you cold?”

He only shakes his head.

“Okay,” you nod into the pillow, daring to run the pads of your fingers along his forearm, stroking. Carmen’s skin here is baby soft, with no hairs on the inner side. You enjoy his quiet hum as you use your nails lightly. He closes his eyes momentarily, and you would say he shivers, but you can’t be sure.

You’re surrounded by the quiet of the night; even the neighbors above must be asleep because you can’t hear their annoying heavy steps. Tomorrow, you won’t be sure if you dreamt this moment.

“Sleep,” you whisper again, something primal overtaking you as you reach further into Carmy’s hair, smoothing down the tangled curls and continuing over the shell of his ear. Carmen watches you for a little longer until he relaxes completely, his blinks getting longer. You’re so caught up in the rare moment of stillness that you don’t realize at first that he’s falling asleep, until his heavy breathing indicates that he’s gone.

#the bear #carmy berzatto #my fic #carmen berzato #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #jeremy allen white #carmy x fem!reader #carmy the bear #carmy x you #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #cracks and gaps

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just-astrology-stuff · 2 months ago

Text

Moon in the Zodiac Signs

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~ MOON in ARIES ~

(moon in 1st house)

People with moon in Aries are dynamic, energetic and excitable. Always up for new things be it car rides in the middle of the night or diving head first into new relationships. They kind of know the flame can burn out quickly so they like to take things fast. Since Aries is ruled by Mars (planet of the God of war), their emotions can be turbulent. Can be quite temperamental and combative at times. They also calm down just as quick and may not even realise the effect their outbursts can have. They have this burning desire to do something that's never been done before but they might need outside motivation to follow through with those dreams. People with Aries moon are truly authentic and usually love showing that to people proudly. They can also be very reckless and impulsive at times, and as fun as this makes them to be around, it can also create problems for them later. Their childlike nature, when it comes to freaking with emotions, might wanna push the negative or dark ones away, locked safely in a drawer, as they only want to focus on the positive. While it's a great thing to be positive, dealing with trauma and suppressed loss/hurt is equally important and is the only way to grow, to allow the positivity to come into your life. Can also be impatient and fidgety. Meditation or just sitting in silence, listening to calming music would definitely help in such times rather than acting out of anger or frustration.

~ MOON in TAURUS ~

(moon in 2nd house)

The ones who have moon in Taurus like to feel stable and secure when it comes to emotions. Taurus is the Moon's favourite sign to be in, some say. This gives you an exceptionally strong emotional foundation and the ability to create an environment that makes you (and others) feel safe. For you, creating a life of comfort and safety is a priority, as is surrounding yourself with beautiful things. You are patient and have a slow and steady kind of vibe. In fact, your approach is one of the most methodical of all Moon signs. Those born with a Taurus moon are satiated by cozy environments, delicious meals, and expressions of luxury. The Taurus moon is a creature of habit and will always prefer stability over change. A Taurus moon can provide grounding, especially in combination with an emotional water sun sign. You tend to store your feelings deeply within, making you slow to adapt to change and often resistant to letting go of emotions. Inversely it can even lead to holding onto grudges for an extended period. When a Taurus is immersed in satisfying experiences, all is right in their world. You take your relationships seriously, and want to feel a sense of deep, abiding kinship with your partner. You are very loyal to your closed ones. You get great satisfaction in helping others and providing all securities to closed ones. Do not go overindulging in materialistic pleasures though. There is a need to be pampered by your partners especially and while there is nothing wrong with that, make sure your needs are voiced as you may think this is something that should be done by default. Added with your inability to express emotions clearly at times is a recipe for misunderstanding.

~ MOON in GEMINI ~

(moon in 3rd house)

Gemini Moons navigate the world with an agile mind and a flexible personality. They have an innate ability to adapt to varying situations and often showcase a remarkable talent for communication and storytelling. Gemini Moons' natural curiosity drives them to constantly learn and absorb information. This trait makes them incredibly interesting and engaging conversationalists who can discuss various topics. While they may not always wear their hearts on their sleeves, Gemini Moons possess a deep emotional intelligence. They understand and process their emotions through thought and communication, often seeking to discuss their feelings with trusted friends or family. Gemini Moons thrive in careers that allow them to utilise their communication skills, satisfy their curiosity, and offer variety. Their career choices reflect a blend of their innate need for communication, diversity, and intellectual engagement. One of their most defining characteristics is their social nature. They thrive in social settings, easily making connections and friendships. Their ability to adapt their communication style to different people makes them highly likeable and approachable. At times, your feelings can sometimes be as restless as your thoughts. This is especially true when drama arrives, life gets challenging, or you need to make important decisions. By truly getting in touch with your own feelings, you allow for the influence coming from the Moon to balance your intellect with your intuition.

~ MOON in CANCER ~

(moon in 4th house)

If you're a Cancer moon, your relationship with yourself can be a little complicated. You know that you're a good person who is thoughtful, smart, and an excellent friend, but you'll also struggle with self-doubt. All Cancers, whether sun or moon signs, have a tendency to get caught up in negative feelings and general moodiness. A Cancer moon can also keep you emotionally distant from others so that you don't have anyone close to you to cheer you up. Even if your sun sign is known for cheerfulness, your Cancer moon can make it challenging to really feel great about yourself at times. Fortunately, however, these moods never last long, and you'll go back to remembering all the great things about yourself. For Cancer moons, comfort is all about old favorites: friends, food, pastimes, etc. Their ideal way to relax is by rewatching their favorite show in the comfort of their own home, possibly with a best friend or two. When looking for comfort, Cancer moons don't want to try the hot new restaurant or trendy new show: they want tried-and-true things they love. For Cancer moons, comfort also often means alone time. Although they value their close friends, having a Cancer moon sign means that you often need to be by yourself in order to fully relax and recharge. This can cause you to cancel plans with others at the last minute. It's important to be careful not to do this too often lest you damage the relationships you've worked so hard to develop. If you have a Cancer moon sign, your greatest fear is likely appearing vulnerable. if Cancer moons did make an effort to share their struggles, they'd find that their close-knit group of friends would be more than happy to help without judgement.

~ MOON in LEO ~

(moon in 5th house)

With a Leo moon sign, you may be gifted at interpreting beauty and meaning for the people around you in creative ways. People will learn from your unique perspective on the world. If you’re a Leo moon sign, it’s important to pursue outlets for your creativity and share your creations with others. Leo moon signs are typically warm and generous. They have an inner light and want to let that light shine on others. Leo moon signs often make others feel seen, included, and important through their wellspring of inner warmth. If you’re a Leo moon sign, you’ll thrive when you channel your energy into helping others. With all that bright energy, Leo moon signs often enjoy being in the spotlight. Leo moon signs are often the center of attention, entertaining others with their good humor, quick wit, and unique perspective on life. Every moon sign comes with some drawbacks, and the Leo moon sign is no exception. Leo moon signs can sometimes be a bit bossy. Your relentless energy and confidence can come across as somewhat aggressive, even though they’re usually just trying to make sure things get done. In relationships of all kinds, it’s important for Leo moon signs to take a breath and read the room. Not every occasion requires a Leo moon sign to take charge, and sometimes it’s important to let other moon signs shine for a little while. Always remember that confidence works best when paired with a strategic mindset and ability to problem solve. To succeed, it’s important for Leo moon signs to recognize when they’re being overly confident and, most of all, to remember that asking for help isn’t a bad thing.

~ MOON in VIRGO ~

(moon in 6th house)

People born with the moon in Virgo are sensitive and sympathetic souls. You are likely curious about the world around you, service-oriented, organized, analytical, and refined. The natural curiosity of those born with a Virgo moon sign is nearly unmatched anywhere else in the zodiac. People with this placement in their birth chart are eager to learn as much as they can about the world and people around them. With a quick mind, they absorb information on a wide range of topics like a sponge. These individuals are likely to have many different interests and hobbies over the course of their lives. This might mean that one day they take up pottery, and the next they learn how to fix their own cars. More than any other moon sign in the zodiac, people born with a moon in Virgo need to feel useful to others. This drive towards being of service is a deep emotional need, and it must be met for them to feel a sense of self-worth. Even if they don’t choose a job that is service-oriented, people with a Virgo moon sign still feel the need to help make life better for those around them. They may do this by volunteering at a local homeless shelter, mowing the yard of an elderly neighbor, or simply by doing their partner’s laundry without complaint. Having a home, family, friends, good health, an interesting job, and financial stability are some of the most cherished dreams of individuals with this moon placement. While other, more flamboyant signs may find this to be modest (or even boring), people born with the moon in Virgo know that these things are key to being content--and they believe that when we have realistic goals, we’re more likely to achieve them! With excellent critical thinking skills, you can analyze situations, processes, and people so that you can optimize them.

~ MOON in LIBRA ~

(moon in 7th house)

Having a Libra moon sign will make even the most pessimistic sun sign feel that the world isn't so bad after all. And, since you're part of the world, you must be pretty great yourself! Your solid sense of self-esteem, however, won't allow you to rest on your laurels. You can sometimes be hard on yourself when you feel you aren't doing enough to make the world a better place, but, even in those moments, you're confident that you're a good person who is doing your best. Libra moons generally have two overarching fears: being alone and making the wrong decision. Even if your sun sign is introverted, having a Libra moon sign will push you a bit towards extroversion. You might love the idea of spending time alone, but do it too much and you'll really start to crave the company of other people. At times, you'll also fear making the wrong choice. Having a Libra moon sign means you care deeply about fairness and making things as equitable as possible for people. While these are noble goals, sometimes you believe in them so strongly that you freeze up when it comes time to make a decision because the consequences of making the wrong choice seem so big. Being around people who care about you can usually help keep these fear at bay. For Libra moons, it's not so much what they're doing that brings them comfort, it's who they're doing it with. The more people around them, the happier they are. If your sun sign trends towards introversion, your natural instinct may be to hole up alone at home when you need comfort. However, try gathering a group of friends around you next time; it might be just the thing to raise your spirits!

~ MOON in SCORPIO ~

(moon in 8th house)

To say that people born with a Scorpio moon feel everything strongly is an understatement. No other moon sign in the zodiac experiences emotions as deeply or intensely. Everything they feel is amplified with this placement. When they are sad, the world is ending. When they are happy, they’re over the moon. When they love, they love for life. And if they’re betrayed-look out! These folks want all or nothing-meaningless relationships aren’t fulfilling, and they don’t do things halfway. They tend to seek out intense emotional experiences to test their own strength and resolve, and to stir up emotional excitement. while these people feel intensely, they also put a lot of effort into keeping their emotional storms private and their deepest feelings a secret--even from those they love and trust the most. These persons have intense likes and dislikes, and incredibly strong convictions. Once they become devoted to an idea or activity, they may feel a nearly uncontrollable drive to pursue it. Although they may have many and varied interests over the course of their lives, these individuals will go after each with single-minded determination. People born with the moon in Scorpio have a natural instinct to plumb the depths of themselves and others. They'll test those they care about to prove their loyalty and authenticity, sometimes unintentionally. They value honesty in themselves and others, and fear betrayal more than anything else. And because they are so insightful, intelligent and astute, they’re able to sniff out the truth in every situation. moon in Scorpio will constantly go through processes of “death” and “rebirth” in their lives, reinventing themselves time and time again.

~ MOON in SAGITTARIUS ~

(moon in 9th house)

Having a Sagittarian moon sign means you're well aware of your positive traits, and you're confident that you have what it takes to take on the world and generally succeed in life. In contrast to many other moon signs, the issue with having a Sagittarian moon isn't self doubt, but rather thinking that you can do anything, even when something is beyond your skills or just plain unsafe. But as long as you can keep those tendencies in check, your high opinion of yourself is generally well deserved. The biggest fear of a Sagittarius moon sign is loss of control. Sagittarians highly value their independence, and anything that seems like it will rob them of the freedom to make their own decisions is enough to make them panicky. And if your moon sign is Sagittarius, you likely see a loss of control in a lot of situations: long-term relationships, debt, an uninspiring job, etc. When you get close to someone and they realize you struggle with the idea of giving up your independence, it can cause problems if you don't work to overcome this tricky trait from your moon sign. With a Sagittarius moon, you are happiest when life is exciting, and if you're getting an adrenaline rush, that's even better. However, Sagittarius moon signs must feel in control in order to truly be comforted, so you'll want to be the one calling the shots for whatever crazy plans people decide on. Having a Sagittarius moon sign means that you often see close relationships (particularly romantic ones) as smothering. Instead, you prefer a wide circle of acquaintances for whom you never feel the need to make compromises.

~ MOON in CAPRICORN ~

(moon in 10th house)

Capricorn moons are always thinking about how their knowledge and skills can be applied in real situations to get things done. Capricorn moons enjoy stability and living in an ordered reality, which motivates them to use their time and resources in sensible ways. While very intelligent, Capricorn moon signs won’t spend a lot of time ruminating over ideas. They’ll weigh the evidence efficiently then make an uncomplicated plan of action-a skill that friends, family, and employers will value in them. According to them, accomplishing goals requires a consistent thoughtfulness that only the most dedicated people possess. This means that they tend to gravitate toward others who are as serious about getting things done as they are, which may lead them to build up a network of highly skilled and accomplished friends and fellow professionals. Their dedication and drive often give Capricorn moons many opportunities for leadership and advancement at work, and their diligence earns them the respect and admiration of their peers. This moon sign can also be counted on to be responsible for major projects because they’re highly attentive to all the minutiae of a situation. They believe that success is determined by how effectively a person attends to the details. Capricorn moons can definitely benefit from integrating some self-compassion into their perceptions of themselves. Contrary to your belief, perfection isn’t attainable, so it’s important for you to be dedicated to being kind to yourself, too.

~ MOON in AQUARIUS ~

(moon in 11th house)

Aquarius is known for being unconventional, bucking tradition and social norms in favor of staying true to who they truly are-even if that person comes across as a little bit eccentric. Being totally, authentically themselves can make an Aquarius moon sign feel content and whole. Their dedication to true self-expression opens them up to authentic connections with others, making this moon sign both an intriguing and loyal friend. Because of their open-mindedness, an Aquarius moon sign can be an exciting conversation partner. Aquarius moons want to share what they learn with the people in their lives, and they’ll be eager to explore new ideas and perspectives with the people they care about. Aquarius moons are highly emotionally motivated by injustice. Their hearts break for people who’ve been dealt a bad hand, and they’ll do whatever they can to help create a world that’s a better place for everyone, especially those who’ve been overlooked by society. Turning toward the facts can also help Aquarius moons process their feelings about injustice in the world. When this moon sign engages in social justice efforts, they do what the evidence suggests is best for that situation. Aquarius moons are emotionally fulfilled when they stay true to themselves. This often leads them off on solo adventures and in pursuit of new knowledge simply for the sake of their own enrichment.

~ MOON in PISCES ~

(moon in 12th house)

People born with their moon in Pisces are sensitive and compassionate souls. They simply know what they are going through on a deep, emotional level. Because they can step into another’s shoes and sympathize so easily, people with a moon in Pisces are often non-judgmental, which makes them excellent listeners and shoulders to cry on in times of need. They feel so intensely that they may even cry with you! Conversely, it may be harder for them to recognize and meet their own emotional needs. They easily see the meaning behind the body language and word choices of others, and keeping things a secret from them is practically impossible. They know what people need in order to be content and fulfilled in life, AND they can see when our current realities don’t meet those needs. Having a Pisces moon makes people strongly attuned to and deeply affected by art of all kinds. So, if your moon is in Pisces, and you don’t currently have a creative outlet, get out there and start exploring your options! It will probably be a super fulfilling experience for you. Their idealism, empathy, and compassion mean that they dream of the perfect love connection. But their ability to see the potential in the people and situations around them can make them think they have found their ideal match, when they actually haven’t. Occasionally those born with their moon in Pisces will need to escape into their own beautiful fantasy world. This can take the form of creating a safe physical space to be alone for a while, or it can mean immersing themselves in their own art and daydreams.

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