#dasha looking out for her >>>>>>>

[batsplat]

why smallville luthor look like mirra andreeva

initially laughed and went 'no she doesn't', then checked and... anon, you may be onto something

[yellowharrington]

save a horse (ride a cowboy!) -- joel miller x reader

pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)

word count: 3.9k

warnings/notes: smut and porn!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. age gap (joel is at least 10 years older). drinking (both reader and joel), unprotected PIV, oral (f receiving), spanking, dirty talk, car sex. if i missed anything lmk!

a/n: recommended listening: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich. honourable mention to austin by dasha bc it's been on repeat. please take the time to leave comments/reblog if you liked it <3 thank u for reading!! divider by @cafekitsune

summary: meeting an older man at the bar and spontaneously fucking him in his truck was not on your list of things to do for your first summer back in austin, but what can you do?

You hate going dancing.

Sweaty clubs with bodies brushing up against one another, sticky with the hot summer heat, confined to the walls of a crowded bar and beer sticking to the bottom of your shoes. Not the way you plan to spend your first Saturday night back in Austin for the summer, but Maddy is so convincing, your hand clasped around yours, a pleading look in her eyes. 

“I promise. It’s so fun. We’ll invite Kaylee and Erin and it’ll be a whole thing.”

You rolled your eyes at her, slipping your hand out from between hers. “Fine. One drink, one dance.”

She squealed with excitement and clapped her hands together, stepping up from the small cafe table. “We can pregame at mine. Wear that black top you have.”

You nod, thinking of the top in question. A corseted black thing that didn’t leave much to the imagination, breasts spilling out of the stop beneath the tight stitching. You think it probably got shoved to the back of your closet somewhere.

~

Joel hates going dancing.

Well, he doesn’t hate dancing. He just isn’t good at it, and hasn’t gone since his very early twenties. And he certainly would not be interested in spending the evening with Tommy at a country bar in downtown Austin, surrounded by women who would grimace at a pair of old men taking up a table.

But Tommy is convincing, hands gesturing around him annoyingly, until Joel gives in. “Fine. One drink. Then I’m leavin’.”

“This city is swarming with beautiful women,” Tommy says, knocking back another sip of his hot coffee. “And you’re too holed up inside to meet any of ‘em.”

“I like my own company,” Joel starts, bringing his own coffee mug to the sink. “Some of us are happy by ourselves.”

Tommy snorts, a hand clapping onto Joel’s shoulder. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, big shot. We’ll see when there’s a bunch of hotties in front of ya, then you can tell me that you like being alone.”

Joel gags at his use of the word ‘hotties’, and pulls his work boots on. “I can still change my mind, ya know.”

~ 

Night falls over the suburbs of Austin, taking the sunshine but leaving the humid, sweet heat in the air. You’re surrounded by your friends at Maddy’s apartment, a light pink gloss swiping across your lips. You’ve managed to dig out the top she had mentioned earlier, tied in a tight bow at the back. Your dark jeans hit just below it, letting slivers of smooth skin show, which somehow seemed sluttier than the fact your boobs were practically falling out of the top. Your jeans outlined the plump curve of your ass, a pair of dark cowboy boots adorning your calves. The last time you’d dressed like this was a long time ago, so it felt a little foreign, but not uncomfortable.

The cab ride to the bar is eventful, with 4 girls singing along to the songs on the radio at the top of your lungs. You were already a drink or two deep, having done some brightly coloured shot at Maddy’s house, taking it without thinking. You still weren’t planning on doing anything insane tonight, and bar drinks were expensive, so this was probably the best it was going to get for you.

The car pulls up to the bar and waits for you all to pour out, flashing your IDs to the bouncer, sliding inside past the thrums of people already inside. The bar was almost full, dance floor packed, drinks being poured by every bartender. Neon signs and amber lamps served as the only lighting for the establishment, already making things feel fuzzy around the edges for you.

Joel sits at a rickety wooden table in the corner of the bar with Tommy, scratching the wet label off of his beer bottle. He had fished out a plaid t-shirt from his closet, his usual jeans taught across his thighs and a pair of nicer boots than his work ones on his feet. His hair was pushed back, curls still lapping at the nape of his neck and curves of his ear. He was noticeably older than the other patrons of the bar, painfully aware of that fact, he felt rather uncomfortable. Tommy didn’t seem to mind, feet tapping at the beer-washed hardwood. “Stop lookin’ so mad,” he remarks, close to Joel’s ear. “You’ll scare ‘em all away.”

There are groups of people pouring in from outside, bachelorette parties and frat boys, making Joel feel unbelievably out of place. It was hard to lighten up when he wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing here.

The doors open once more, your group of friends pushing their way through the sea of people, hand in hand. Joel notices, one girl in a cowboy hat, one in denim jean cutoffs, one with a big belt buckle that glints pink against the light. 

Then he notices you.

His face softens as you follow behind your friends, as they push to the front of the line for a drink. He’s got 10 years on you, easy, but that doesn’t stop his cock twitching against the zipper of his suddenly too-tight jeans.

Soft curves, a top that fits you just right, and jeans that accentuate the dips and lines of your body. You’ve got warm energy, a bright smile adorning your glossed lips. 

You barely even notice him, until you turn around and make eye contact, your shining eyes meeting his. He’s too handsome for his own good, biceps and shoulders pressed tight against the sleeves of his shirt. He’s got his thighs spread across the chair he’s sitting in, towards you, almost like he wants you to come and just sit right on his lap.

You offer a small smile across the dim bar, taking your drink and following your friends to the last open table they’d spotted. A high top, back to the stranger now, giving him the opportunity to see your shape. He swears you’re sticking your ass out on purpose, so he can see the soft skin where your jeans meet the bottom of your top. 

“Joel,” Tommy’s voice cuts through the bustle of the bar. “If you’re gonna be so fuckin’ miserable, we can go. There’s another place-“

Joel stops him, teetering his beer towards his brother. “This is fine. We can stay for another round.”

~ 

You pull yourself away from the group after finishing your round of sugary drinks and shots, your head beginning to buzz. “I’ll get the next ones,” you giggle, pushing yourself out of your seat and steadying yourself on the ground. “Green tea shots?” The girls hoot and holler back to you, as you turn on your heels towards the crowded bar. 

Joel gets up, almost looking panicked, when he sees that you’re leaving your group. He downs the rest of his beer and tips his head towards Tommy, as if to ask, “another?”. Tommy nods and sits back in his chair, continuing to observe. Joel makes a beeline, able to slide right beside you in line.

You can smell the cologne and laundry detergent on his clothes while he stands behind you, shuffling on his feet. You can almost feel his nerves, radiating off of his large form. 

He can smell your perfume and shampoo, it’s intoxicating. 

Joel is served first, the bartender leaning forward to listen to his request. “Two Buds, and uh,” you feel a soft hand on your shoulder. If you couldn’t see that it was him, someone would have a black eye.

“What are you drinkin’, darlin’?”

His voice is sweet like honey as he dips down to be so unbelievably close to your ear, his hand now on the side of your arm. Heat spreads up your neck at his proximity. 

“Oh, I’m getting like 4 shots, you don’t have to-“

“What kinda shots?”

“Uh, green tea. Green tea shots.”

“And four green tea shots.”

The bartender nods as Joel slides his cash across the bar, turning, and looking down at you slightly. You feel impossibly small in that moment.

“You really did not have to do that, thank you.” You’re on your tip toes, a hand pressed against his chest now, lips as close to his ear as you can get. 

He shivers. He can’t remember the last time someone was this close to him in this way. 

“No problem,” he waves it off, taking the two beers by the neck of the bottle and moving over slightly for you to grab the shots. 

Your ass brushes across the front of his jeans, and he knows it’s intentional.

“Thanks again for the drinks,” and you’ve disappeared back into the crowd in a second.

Oh. Nevermind.

He can’t help but feel a little dejected, slinking back to his seat with Tommy and passing him his beer. “Struck out, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Joel watches your table still, annoyed, but not entirely surprised. Pretty stupid of him to think you’d want to fraternize with a man such as himself, so much older than you. Maybe he’d come off too strong?

His head is all but hanging in his hands when he watches you get up again, your friends coming along with you. He averts his eyes in embarrassment, not noticing that you’re making your way over to his table.

Tommy notices.

“Ladies!” He draws out, hands thrown up in the air. Joel looks up then, locking in eyes with you immediately.

“Didn’t think I’d leave you hanging, did ya cowboy?” A smile tugs at his lips as you extend a hand to him. “After you were so nice?”

He laughs a little, your other friend taking a hold of Tommy and pulling him towards the crowded dance floor. He’s very easily persuaded.

“Come dance with me!”

“Oh, I’m not a dancer,” he laughs, warm and honeyed. It makes heat pool in your core.

“Neither am I. Come anyways.”

All he can do is obey, taking your hand and letting you lead him away from the table. 

~

The music pulses under your feet as you end up in a tight line, shoulder to shoulder. He can’t stop looking at you, leaning down to speak into your ear. 

“I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said I didn’t know how to dance,” he explains, and his breath is hot against the curve of your ear.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it when we start goin’. Just follow me.”

And I saddle up my horse

And I ride into the city

I make a lot of noise

Cause the girls

They are so pretty

Joel’s eyes are parked on your body as you start to move along to the steps of the line dance, feet tapping against the hard wood of the floor beneath you. Your hands are up by your face, clapping along to the beat. He tries to follow along, at least stepping in the right direction, clapping at the right time, but it’s no use.

Your body is insatiable - hips rolling to the pounding music. The curves and lines of your ass, paired with the soft tissue of your breasts nearly busting out of the top you chose to wear. Your skin is supple, shining against the dance floor lights that are favouring him right now as he lets a red blush engulf the skin of his cheeks and neck. 

He wonders what it looks like underneath, peeled off and bunched up around your ankles, or thrown on the floor of his bedroom. He thinks of fingering the ties of your shirt, loosening them and pushing it off, his hand across the front of your throat as he makes you look at yourself. How pretty you are. Goosebumps spread across the exposed skin of his arm.

You grab his hand suddenly, and he’s taken out of his daydream. Your eyes are fiery as you let yourself get even closer to him, feeling bold enough to put his hand across the small of your back.

“Follow me,” you command, as he looks down at the footwork you’re doing along to the song.

Riding up and down Broadway

On my old stud Leroy

And the girls say

Save a horse, ride a cowboy!

He attempts to follow it again, egged on by the feeling of your hot skin against his thumb. He could honestly maybe cum just from this touch alone if he really tried.

It’s not actually as hard as he thought, if he concentrates. A few steps, repeated over and over again, until it comes naturally. You notice how easily he picks it up, smiling up at him, beaming up while he’s lost in thought. 

The song picks up, and the whole floor is enthralled by the dance. You see Joel’s smile light up the room, and he hasn’t dared to move his hand from your back. You don’t mind.

When your body turns toward his, he halts before almost running into you, still following the steps along to the song.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

Your words take him by surprise, but they are not unwelcome. 

“Yes.” His hand envelops yours as he takes a look at Tommy, seeing that he’s still in the throws of the song with your friends.

Your hand leads him off the dance floor and towards the club bathroom, but he stops you, lips close to your ear again. “My truck is parked out back, if we want, a little more, um,” he clears his throat, “privacy.”

“Show me the way,” you smile, letting him pull you out the doors and into the darkness of the parking lot. 

He fishes for his keys nervously when you get to the side of his truck, an older model with blue paint. He can’t remember the last time he did anything like this, if he ever has, and it’s getting to his head.

“Let’s get in the back seat,” you say, taking him out of his trance. “Wanna feel you.”

He lets you in first, pushing across the bench seating as he slides in beside you. There’s a moment of awkwardness, before your hand reaches out to touch his denim-clad thigh. His breath hitches.

“Relax,” your smile is intoxicating to him, and he’s drinking you in. “We’re just here to have a little fun.”

He lets himself lurch forward, your lips pressed against his fervently. They’re rough and chapped, but cold from the beer he’d been nursing earlier, offering you some reprieve. 

Your hand snakes up his chest to the side of his throat, pulling him in to come closer and delve deeper. His tongue comes out to lick across your teeth and press against the soft wetness of your tongue, as his hand comes up to palm your breasts over your top, grabbing at any flesh he can get his fingers on. 

He quickly and deftly finds the bow Maddy had tied on the back, pulling it loose and letting the fabric relax so you he could pull it off of your form.

His hands began to explore the soft skin of your breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you arch into him and let a strained moan come from your lips.

“Fuck,” is all you can think to say, because his large hands are spread across your back, forcing you closer, and into him. Soft moans escape your lips as you let him take what he needs from you.

“Off,” he commands suddenly, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans and yanking them down, after you pop the button and undo the zipper. Your boots have come off at some point in the tussle, and now you’re naked in the back seat of a stranger’s car with not much to say for yourself.

You push his flannel down his shoulders as his weight hovers over you, revealing how strong he really is. Rippling biceps beneath his tight shirt, strong chest, kind eyes. 

You’re lying beneath him, when his hands come up under your thighs to push them apart and expose your pussy to him. He kneels between your soft thighs, thankful for the dark night sky around him, as he delves into your heat with his warm tongue.

You see stars when he makes first contact, a broad stripe of his tongue sending you into space. He’s hungry for it, immediately suckling onto your clit and wrapping his lips around it, strong hands still pushing your thighs apart. He’s taking his time to taste you, wild and intricate, feeling the bulge in his jeans strain against the zipper.

“Oh, fuck,” you manage to get out, in between breathless moans. Your hand came down to tangle in his hair, feeling the soft locks between your fingers, enjoying the way he’s making your hips roll onto his face. You can’t help but rut against him, soaking his wet mouth with your slick, using him to get yourself off.

He’s moaning into your pussy, working his own now-free cock in one of his hands, while the other delves two fingers into your core. Your breath catches in your throat when he fills you, stretching you open and wide for him, hitting the perfect spot to make your stomach start to spasm as you threatened to unravel beneath him.

“Fuck, so good, so so good,” you laugh breathlessly, the ecstasy beginning to take over as he continued to work your pussy, and you felt the familiar white-hot feeling along the back of your thighs.

“I’m gonna, — oh my god,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before he was tonguing at you harder, eyes flickering up to watch you. “I’m gonna fucking come.”

“Good girl,” he growls into you, only offering you momentary reprieve from his tongue before using the rest of his energy to help you ride out your orgasm on his face. Your hips bucked and spasmed against him, the windows fogging up with your hot breath as you fucked yourself on his fingers. He let you pull on his hair as moans tumbled from your lips, breathless and spent.

When you managed to come down, he took his fingers from inside you and pumped his cock a few times, now bobbing in between the two of you as he slid himself up your body to kiss up your chest and capture your soft lips into a kiss.

“Sit back,” you whispered, pushing on his chest to bring him back sitting upright. His jeans were pooled around his ankles now, and you had pulled his t-shirt over his head to meet the other clothes on the floor of the truck. You positioned yourself across his lap, pumping his cock a few times and feeling the girth around your fingers.

He looked blissed out, head against the headrest, savouring the feeling of your pretty hand around him. If he looked down between your two bodies he might come right then, at the sight. 

“You did so much work, baby,” you coo, sitting down on his thick cock and bottoming out immediately, just to watch his lips fall open and eyes flutter close at how tight you are. “Made me cum so easy.”

Your lips latch onto his neck as you kiss and lap at the rough skin, letting your hips rock back and forth, slowly at first. Getting used to his length inside of you would’ve been tough if he hadn’t opened you up so easily beforehand. 

“Move,” his hands come to your waist, lightly forcing you to grind down on his lap. His cock was hitting inside of you so perfectly as you swallowed him into your body, looking down as his head lulled back against the seat. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he started, letting you set the pace of your hips, hand coming up to paw at your breast once more.

“You like this cock, don’t you?” You nod, letting your hand come to the seat behind his head and steadying yourself before beginning to bounce in his lap. “Yeah, fuck, yeah I do.”

He’s in his element now, any and all shyness from the newness of the situation melting away as he pounded into you mercilessly. The truck was no doubt shaking back and forth a little, a steadying hand print the only window to the outside world. Joel didn’t even care if people could see, they’d just be jealous.

“I’m gonna, fuck-,” he starts, eyes cloudy at the edges, vision fuzzy as he looked up at you. You were fucked out, cock-drunk on him, watching as he was coming undone underneath you as you squeezed around him. “Oh yeah?” You tease, not letting up on the rhythm of your hips, his hand coming down to your ass in a firm slap.

You moaned then, arching your back into him and sitting back. “Where do you want me?”

He’s desperate to cum now. Even the thought of your pretty face beneath him, taking his hot ropes on your soft pink lips is making him jerk forward into you with need.

He pushes you off, and you wince from the loss of contact. He’s fisting his cock above you right away, pink tip ready to explode any second at the sight of you, tits pressed together. Your mouth is open, and he sticks his fingers in between your lips as you moan around them, tasting yourself.

“Cum all over me,” you start, pinching your nipples with your free hand. “Fuck, I want it.”

It’s enough for his knees to buckle and hot cum to shoot all over your stomach and tits, painting you white with his seed. His eyes squeeze shut as you watch him ride his orgasm out, balls emptying onto you as he slows down and regains consciousness, taking a second to drink you in when he can open his eyes again. 

Your breath is heaving as you take a finger to swipe some of his cum onto your finger, dipping the digit into your mouth. His brows furrow together as he pulls you up to kiss your lips, devouring you, hands coming up to each side of your face as if to thank you for such a good time.

“Been a while since I did anything like that,” he laughs, and you follow shyly. “You got like, a napkin?” You giggle, as he grabs something in the front seat for you to clean up with. “Thanks. That was fun.”

He nods in agreement, catching his breath before pulling his t-shirt over his head. “I suppose we should go back in there,” he checks his appearance in the rearview mirror, all blushed and fucked out. 

You put your top back on over your body, turning towards him. “Can you lace me back up, please?”

His hands begin to work at you, tightening a bow at the bottom much like it had been done before.

A thought crossed your mind that made a giggle escape your lips. “What?” Joel asked, amused, pulling his jeans back on over his hips. 

“I don’t think I ever got your name.”

He laughs too, thinking of the events that had transpired given neither of you knew such a basic piece of information. 

“I guess we can stick with cowboy.”

[bouquetface]

As you wrote in the recent post that 7th house ruler in 6th house in d1/d9 can indicate divorce is there any other placements that can help make the marriage more long term despite this?

Long-Lasting Marriage Indicators:

🪢 2nd H is 8 from 7th, therefore it can indicate the longevity of the marriage/spouse :

Benefic in 2nd (not debilitated.) Planets in their home sign in 2nd H D2.

Saturn aspect D1 2nd H Ruler w/o weakening the ruler. However, I have observed this can indicate the marriage breaks early but the divorce process is drawn out.

🪢 Saturn DK. Saturn Aspect Venus, 7th H ruler or 7th H.

🪢 Saturn in 1st of D9. Saturn in 8th H of D9. Saturn in 10th of D9. Saturn in 2nd of D9. However, I have seen these in multiple charts for people who divorced within 9 years but had long court battles too. Make sure Saturn is not harshly aspect or in a weak sign.

🪢 Mars in 10th of D9 - NOT debilitated.

🪢 Moon in 4th of D9. Not the strongest indicator but a positive to have nonetheless.

🪢 Timing depends on dasha periods too. Most often divorce occurs in the dasha or bhukti of planets opposite DK, 7th H, 7th H ruler. Or in periods of DK, 7th H, 7th H ruler, Rahu or Ketu.

🪢 Well-placed 7th H and 7th H ruler in D9 and D1 indicate long lasting marriages too. These are the best indicators to look for as they generally indicate a happy married life.

🪢 D9 ASC overlaps natal 1st, 4th, 7th or 11th H. This can indicate a generally happy married life too.

—————————————————-

But truthfully, a poor 7th house in D1 and/or D9 combined with long lasting marriage indicators suggest a very unhappy marriage/life. In vedic, it is believed to be due to karmic reasons.

IRL examples: Culture/religion does not allow divorce.

Financially unable to part ways.

And I know of one irl client who recently divorced her abusive husband after 33 years.

She had an afflicted 7th H but many long-lasting marriage indicators.

——

HOWEVER DO NOT BE DISCOURAGED BY GENERAL NOTES. THIS IS BETTER USED AS LEARNING INFORMATION.

Vedic tends to be very fixed in the belief you can’t avoid your destiny/karmas. But, keep in mind your entire D1 and D9 will show your own personal accuracy. And you have free will to make your own choices.

[callmezayka]

Mafia!Nikto x reader

(this is just something I've written when bored at work, don't take it seriously!)

Having someone special in his life wasn't something Nikto was expecting, especially a wife, but seemed like destiny had other plans for him. Life as a mafia lord was full of business deals and sometimes those deals included weird things, like when he made an agreement with a group from Madagascar and ended up getting a hyena as a ‘gift’. He named her Sputnik.

This time wasn't different. They've been discussing a gun deal with the British for some months and finally had reached the final contract, there was only one problem: Nikto would never accept their final request. A marriage. Your uncle was eager to get rid of you and decided that marrying you with some crazy Russian you've never met before was a great idea.

Obviously Nikto refused, he had already things enough to deal with, and he hated the idea of sharing his space with someone else. So why did he signed the papers after seeing your photo? Why did he ordered his housekeeper, Dasha, to prepare the whole second floor of the east wing of his house just for you? Why did he ordered Dasha to bring you fresh flowers every morning? Why did he ordered one of his men to find out everything you liked and simply set up everything to make his house perfect for you? For the sake of the deal, of course.

There wasn't no ceremony, he just signed the papers and the lawyer send it up for you to sign too, and even when you moved to his house you didn't saw him. He'd spend his days locked on his office, the only contact between the two of you being the texts you exchanged sometimes.

Until one day you went out with your friends, and your bodyguard of course, and ended up drinking a bit too much. The first thing you did as you set your foot inside the house, late at night, was head to his room, not even bothering knocking before entering, finding him sitting on his bed with some papers in hand and his back leaned against the wall.

Oh, this wasn't the sight you were expecting. That massive, scary and scarred russian had the most beautiful bright eyes staring at you in pure shock. He expected you to run away, scream or look at him with disgust at the sight of his burned and scarred face completely exposed. Instead, you closed the door, let your bag fall on the ground and walked to him, sitting in front of him on the bed.

None of you said anything for several seconds, his anxiety hidden behind his stoic face, his voices going overdrive as every second went by.

–You’re my husband.

Was the first thing you say, staring into his face with mixed feelings, curiosity and surprise crossing your eyes.

–Да.

His voice wasn't what you expected either, it wasn't as deep as he looked like he'd have, but it was still rich and heavily accented. Hot. You stretched your hand, smiling at him like someone meeting a new friend.

–I’m Y/N, your wife. Nice to meet you.

Oh, his heart fluttered at your smile. You didn't seem scared or disgusted by his scars at all, you were just… so incredibly bright. Like a whole set of Christmas lights. He took your hand in his, his touch as gentle as it could've been against your soft skin.

–Nice to meet you…

He was entranced, completely hypnotized by you. You two kept staring at each other in pure silence like the two weird things you were, not sure what to say or how to act.

Maybe this agreement wasn't so bad after all.

[numbersandstars]

Who Are You? Where To Find Yourself in a Chart. Part 1.

We know how important it is to know ourselves. Last time, I gave you here a list of the main indicators but the aim was to find your Lunar sign, or your core nakshatra. Here, we go deeper into the layers of our minds.

After that, in my next post, I will recap the divisional charts that will help you delve deeper.

The List of the Indicators

Moon: This is a crucial planet to look at. In India, it is generally considered to be your birth nakshatra. The Moon defines your Vimshottari Dasha, or future, as soon as you were born. She shows your psychological and biological karma, your mind and the way you move in society. The Moon indicates your emotions, desires and past life experiences as well. These experiences will still reflect in your behavior today. These experiences, emotions, thoughts come and go like the waves of the sea.

Ascendant/Rising Sign (Lagna): It shows how you integrate yourself with society but in a physical way. In other words, it shows how you present yourself and how your life's environment looks like. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, IT SHOWS WHERE YOU FOCUS. Any planet situated in your first house (using the whole sign system), will sit permanently in your head.

Sun: It is a significant planet as it is your battery. How can you live without energy? How can you live without the Sun?... It is impossible. Here, the Sun represents your vitality, your health, your spiritual development and your righteous actions.

The Ascendant Lord (or Lagna Lord/LL or Lagnesha): It shows the same things as the ascendant but in a more active way. It shows how you get nourishment, your passion in life. It also shows where you focus. The Lagna Lord indicates where your intelligence is best applied and what kind of situations you deal with since early age.

Dharma Lord: It is not commonly used but from my experience, it works wonderfully. It is the planet which is related to your lagna nakshatra (e.g, if your lagna is in Purva Ashadha, then, Venus becomes your Dharma Lord). This planet becomes the Lord of your dharma or righteous duty. It shows you the path and the challenges you will encounter, as well as the solutions to them.

Atmakaraka (AK): The Atmakaraka is the significator of your soul. It is the planet with the highest degree in your chart. It represents your difficult karmas to burn and how to deal with them. This karma trash resonates with the nature of your AK planet, therefore, you will behave the opposite way to how this planet is supposed to behave in the end. It also shows your potential, what is important for you and how you realize yourself.

Ketu: Ketu denotes your past life experiences, like the Moon but unlike her, Ketu does not behave like the sea waves, but it actually behaves like a place where you stock your former behavioral patterns and experiences. It can be compared to your subconscious. It represents our true, hidden, nature but we are mostly unaware of it. It is also the place where we get bored because we had experienced these areas too much before, hence Ketu being called as “comfort zone” even though, it is not always very comfortable due to being boring. This boredom will attract you to Rahu, its opposite polarity, the unknown, exciting jungle.

Mahadasha Lord: Using the Vimshottari dasha, your current Maha Dasha Lord, which rules your current period of life, will impact your mind and behavior. It will not last for ever but it stays there for a couple of years, so, you cannot neglect it.

The first syllable of your first name: Don't forget your first name! The two first sounds of your name corresponds to a particular nakshatra. Even if there is no planet sitting there in your birth chart, this nakshatra will also influence your behavior and life. Themes of this nakshatra will definitely play out in your life.

The secondary indicators

Mercury: Mercury is the planet of rationality. It is your rational intellect. It shows how you manage your daily routine challenges in life, as well as other practical knowledge. It shows the way you learn, and the way you express yourself.

Rahu: Rahu shows your biggest obsessions. It represents your most intense desires. It is actually about illusory desires because once they are fulfilled, you still want more. It is a place where you are always unsatisfied, hence frustration. You might get so annoyed that you totally give up on your Rahu, which leads you automatically to your Ketu, and you stay there. But Ketu, even though it is comfortable, you end up getting bored, and in the end, you go back to your Rahu. It is the endless cycle of the nodes, which were initially one body (Svarbhanu): one cannot leave the other. Rahu also represents the unknown fields for you, which also lead to fears. As it represents the unknown, you are quite new to what Rahu represents in your chart, hence you are likely to act awkwardly there.

Arudha Lagna: It represents the appearance made by the Maya, the material illusion of our environment. This is the appearance that all strangers will see from you at first. It is your image, e.g, your image on the social media, your reputation in general... This appearance is all made up: it is rarely linked to your true self. But it explains why people behave a certain way with you and not another. The Lord of this lagna should be taken into account too.

Aries: This sign represents the first house in the original kaal purush kundli. The house it occupies, the planets that sit and aspect there will remain in your head. In other words, you will also focus on them.

Cancer, the Fourth house: They both represent the peace of mind, your privacy, and most importantly, your heart. What does your heart desire? The house Cancer occupies, any planet sitting, aspecting Cancer and the fourth house will show you what.

[buzzcutlip]

Cracks and Gaps - The Waterfall (part II) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Mature (Explicit in the following parts) 6573 words

You meet Carmen in Copenhagen through a mutual friend and bond over shared experiences. After following his rising career from afar, you reconnect in Chicago when he renovates his late brother’s restaurant. As an editor, you can’t miss an opportunity to find out more about the comeback of this chef prodigy. part I The Worst Day

A/N: The angst continues and morphs. This part is full of fashion, understanding and soft words. Thank you Amy @foreveraimingtowardsthesky and E @butchcarmy for giving me the confidence to write and to publish this :) (Also reader is reffered to as someone who blushes, in case you would like to know this ahead of deciding to read the story)

THE WATERFALL

You want so badly to forget the fight, but instead, you keep replaying it in your head over and over, until it feels like a movie you saw on TV or in a cinema. Like it wasn't really you Carmen was shouting at. You try to comfort yourself by imagining what you should have done in that moment—anything but nothing, like you actually did. But at least you stood up for yourself. That’s somehow comforting.

The way forward is to go—to leave. To remove yourself from the situation and find a new environment that has nothing to do with what happened. For the weekend, you take a long-postponed trip to Seattle. People envy you for traveling to fancy places for work, but to you, it’s just that—work. This time, though, you’re unusually eager to get on the plane to another state. Nothing in Washington is going to remind you of Carmen Berzatto, you hope. The plan is to try a luxury wellness retreat for women in tech and business at Salish Lodge by Snoqualmie Falls. You’re not in tech or business, but the place paid the magazine to review the program, so you couldn’t really say no. There’s a "pillow menu for the best night’s rest" and a "Canna-bliss CBD natural ritual" option, so you’re not complaining. To escape the busy networking event on Saturday, you sneak out and walk to the top of the falls, take a deep inhale—just as you practiced during that morning's yoga class—and shout into the void, letting the roar of the water swallow it all. 

There’s so much pent-up energy in you that you start to worry you’re scaring all the Zen businesswomen around you. During a workshop, you realize that most of them are your age, or even younger. They have careers, partners, and some even have kids. It sucks, being reminded of what society expects from you when you’re thirty.

When you get back on Tuesday, the office clerk tells you that someone was looking for you on Monday. Not thinking much of it, you sit down at your desk to start working on your piece about the trip. It’s scorching outside—concrete city in July is unforgiving—and you’re grateful for the office's functioning AC.

The next time you check the clock, it’s already noon. You stand up to stretch and grab the empty mug on your desk. It was a silly gift from your parents when you first got this job—white with a black handle and a funny picture of a green pickle with a face that says "It’s kinda a big dill." As foolish as it sounds, drinking coffee from this mug always makes you smile.

As soon as you step out of your office, Dasha, the desk clerk, waves you over. Even sitting, she’s tall, her head and upper body towering proudly over the counter. She always wears amazing glasses.

“I love your glasses,” you say, complimenting her tortoiseshell frames.

“Thanks,” Dasha smiles. “You have a visitor. I was just about to call your desk.”

The blood in your veins seems to stop. You turn your head toward the guest sofa by the elevators. There’s no doubt who the visitor is.

“He said his name was Caramel—Carmel? Sorry!” Dasha fumbles with the name, blushing and nervously fiddling with her pen. “I should’ve written it down!”

Of course, it’s Carmen.

“You’re fine,” you assure her with a quick smile. Taking a very, very deep breath, you ask sweetly, “Could you send Caramel to meeting room three?”

‘I’m so Zen,’ you tell yourself as you walk to the kitchen, giving Dasha and Carmen a few minutes. If you’re going to meet him, it’s going to be on your terms, you decide standing by the fridge. Or, hiding by the fridge?

Wearing a summery yet elegant dress, heeled clogs, and your hair up, you look nothing like you ever did at The Bear. You’re pleased to discover, just before opening the door to meeting room three, that the tight feeling in your stomach isn’t just nerves—it’s also a bit of excitement and confidence.

The frosted glass door closes behind you, and you watch as Carmen’s eyes land on you. He’s already seated in one of the uncomfortable white plastic chairs, and now he’s looking at you. His gaze drops to your legs, where the frilled hem of your dress stops just above your knees, then to the mug you’re still holding, though it’s empty.

“Hey,” he greets you, shifting as if he might stand up. You sit across from him, setting the mug on the table.

“Hi,” you reply, curious about what he’s going to say. You’re fairly sure he’s here to apologize, probably sent by Natalie and Sydney—maybe even Richie—to make things right. You had texted Natalie to say you needed to focus on your "real" job as an excuse to avoid going back to the restaurant. Now, you wish you had told her the truth.

“I brought you something,” Carmen says, awkwardly pulling out a paper bag. “Thought you might be hungry.” He hesitates, then adds, “It’s smoked mozzarella mezzelune.” When you don’t make a move to take it, he places the bag back in his lap.

Leaning back in your chair, you fight the urge to cross your arms. You probably feel as out of place as he does right now—but you’re not about to let him see that.

“We didn’t have to meet here,” he says, glancing nervously around the room. “I just wanted to bring the food.”

You blink a few times, wanting to make him even more uncomfortable. “You could’ve left it at reception,” you say calmly.

Carmen rubs a hand over his face and purses his lips. “About before—the recipe. It was all bullshit.”

You grimace. That doesn’t sound like an apology. You're starting to lose faith that Carmen is even capable of one. Disappointed and at a loss for words, you scoff, and Carmen’s eyes dart back to yours. He looks almost offended, which really pisses you off.

“Bullshit,” you repeat, your voice steady. “I’m not interested in this, Carmen,” you say, meeting his gaze without wavering. “Go to hell with your food.”

He looks down, fidgeting with the paper bag. “I’m terrible at this.”

“Terrible at what? Apologizing? Well, it’s past time you learned.”

The urge to shout at him is strong. You want him to feel as humiliated as you did. But you won’t. He spent his whole life in an environment where people yelled for different reasons—or no reason at all. That’s not your style.

Not expecting anything else from him, you push your chair back, the screeching noise cutting through the tense moment, sending a shiver down your spine.

When Carmen suddenly stands as well, his chair scraping even louder, your heart jumps. You gasp, nearly sick from the fright.

“I—I also came to tell you that I’ll do it,” he stammers. “I’ll do the interview.”

You study him for a moment. Is he serious?

“This isn’t what I want, Carmen,” you say, shaking your head and rubbing your wrist. “Why now?”

“I talked to Syd and the crew. It’s the right thing to do. Right for the restaurant.”

He’s sincere, as far as you can tell. His eyes look huge, and that tortured artist look is back. A martyr. How much does he enjoy playing that role?

“Please, don’t ruin my Zen,” you say quietly, not wanting to return to how you felt a few days ago.

“I’m not interested anymore,” you add, praying Rob won’t find out and fire you. “Dasha will see you out. Or you can take the elevator.” The condescension in your voice is clear, but you’re not sure if Carmen even notices.

—

For the next two days, you decide to work from home and mope. Calling Becky isn’t an option because she would probably go talk to Natalie and tell her everything. The feelings of anger and humiliation are mixing within you, and you don’t know which one makes you more miserable.

When you get back to work, Rob calls you over to his office. Shit, you think.

You walk in with a smile and confidence—fake it till you make it. The usual clutter of papers and magazines is still there, but Rob himself seems unusually animated, almost buzzing with excitement. He waves you in, barely able to contain a grin. “Take a seat,” he says, his tone a little too eager.

You sit down cautiously, trying to gauge what's coming. Rob leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk, and you can see he’s practically bursting to share something. “So, I got a call this morning,” he starts, and you immediately feel a sense of dread creeping in. “It was from Natalie, the manager over at The Bear.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you force yourself to stay composed. You nod, prompting him to continue. “She told me that Carmen Berzatto—yes, that Carmen—wants to do the interview and a photoshoot,” Rob says.

“A—a photoshoot?” you stammer. “Is this the same Carmen Berzatto?” God, you couldn’t imagine Carmen wanting to be a center of attention like that. He would probably die right on the spot.

Rob ignores your snarky remark—as he often does—leaning even closer, his excitement palpable. “And get this—he specifically requested that you be the one to do it.”

He pauses, waiting for your reaction, clearly expecting you to share in his enthusiasm. But all you feel is a mix of shock and apprehension. “Rob, I—” you start, but he cuts you off, too caught up in the moment.

“I mean, this is huge!” he exclaims, practically bouncing in his chair. “The Bear is blowing up, and an exclusive like this could improve all the important numbers for us. And he wants you—he’s insisting on it! Do you have any idea how big this could be for your career?”

You do, of course. An exclusive interview with Carmen could put you on the map in a major way. But all you can think about is that last encounter in the meeting room, the awkwardness, the unresolved tension, and the anger laced in bitterness you thought you had finally let go of. Rob notices your hesitation and softens his tone, though his excitement is still simmering beneath the surface. “Look, I know there’s some history here,” he says, a bit more gently. “But this is a massive opportunity. And honestly, if Carmen wants you specifically, there’s something there. He’s not the type to just pick someone randomly, right?”

You shake your head and swallow hard, your mind racing. The offer is tempting, the kind of opportunity that doesn’t come around often. But it also means facing Carmen again, reopening wounds you thought were starting to heal but ignoring the issue—the healthy way, you think bitterly. But also, you would need to contact Nat and Sydney again about your place in The Bear, which you’ve been putting on hold for a long time now, in internet terms.

Rob senses your inner turmoil and leans back, giving you some space. “I’m not going to pressure you, but I really think you should consider it. We could make this the cover story. It’s that big.”

The room is silent for a moment as Rob waits for your response, his eagerness practically vibrating off him. You’re absolutely sure that if you don’t agree to this project, Rob will ask another editor, or even hire a freelancer. As much as you want to be offended a bit longer, letting it simmer inside you, you also want to do this with The Bear staff. As Natalie must know—this is all her doing, after all, you suppose—the visibility for the restaurant is going to be huge.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Then, you make your decision. “I’ll do it,” you say, your voice firmer than you expected.

Rob’s face lights up instantly. “That’s what I’m talking about!” he exclaims, practically beaming. “I knew you’d come through. This is going to be incredible, I can feel it.”

His enthusiasm reassures you, and for a brief moment, you let yourself feel excited, too.

Rob starts rattling off details, already planning how to make this the magazine’s biggest feature yet. “We’ll do a full spread—interview, photoshoot, the works. We can even tie it into some of the broader trends in the culinary world. This could be huge!”

You nod, letting his words wash over you, but part of your mind is still focused on the impending meeting with Carmen. You pretty much sent him to hell. How will you handle this?

“Let’s get the ball rolling,” Rob says, snapping you back to the present. “I’ll coordinate with Natalie to set up the interview. We’ll get the photographer involved, and I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

“Thanks, Rob,” you say, managing a small smile, not mentioning that you will get in touch with Natalie too. “I’ll make sure it’s worth the hype.”

“I have no doubt,” Rob replies confidently. “This is going to be something special.”

As you walk out of his office, the reality of what you just agreed to starts to settle in. You’re going to see Carmen again, face to face, in a setting that’s as personal as it is professional. It’s also a chance to prove to yourself that you can handle it—and maybe even come out stronger on the other side.

The nerves are still there, but so is a newfound resolve. This is your story to tell, and you’re ready to own it.

---

Naturally, you had to tone down your emotions in Rob’s office, as he didn’t know anything about your work you had done for The Bear or the situation with the chef himself. The need to show off your professional skills, both to Rob and Carmen, won. Natalie nearly pisses herself—her words, not yours!—when you confirm the news over the phone. She shares with you that it actually was Carmen’s idea to do the interview, supported by Sydney and Richie and Tina and everyone. The shoot not so much, but he’s gonna do it too, she says, and you can hear the mischievous smile in her voice.

The photoshoot is set to happen in a studio your magazine usually uses for smaller productions, as it’s only Carmen you need to get. Rob informed you that he had sent a photographer to The Bear earlier, so the photos from the place, as well as photos of the team, are already done. You know this from Natalie and Sydney already, who thanked you probably more than a million times for “arranging this,” but in front of Rob, you play guileless.

It’s awfully quiet in the room when you enter, the swinging door swooshing quietly behind you. No wonder. The shoot had to be planned on Sunday—the only day Carmen’s not at work, which has been met with not very enthusiastic responses. There’s no music playing, which is very unusual.

The studio has high ceilings and large windows that let in natural light. It obviously used to be a factory, now rebuilt into a fancy, modern building with that historic edge. You’ve been here a couple of times before.

You spot the photographer, Elena, adjusting her equipment with the precision of someone who knows exactly what she’s doing. She smiles at you and you give each other a quick hug. With a shoot this small, there’s no one doing production, as you’re using the magazine’s regular talents. As much as you want to stall, you know that Carmen must be sitting on the make-up chair, very probably freaking out. It’s a bit unpleasant, but the fact that he’s more uncomfortable than you here makes you feel better, helps you calm your nerves down. The situation is similar to the one in the office a few weeks back, and you realize it’s more your confidence than maliciousness.

Your steps echo as you walk around the corner to the make-up and hair spot by one of the big windows. Carmen’s just getting up from the high chair, his posture screaming uneasiness.

“Hi Margot,” you say to the make-up artist with a piercing in her eyebrow. She’s younger than you, so you get why she thinks that the 00’s are so cool, since that’s probably when she was born.

Then the spotlight is on Carmen and you, and it takes you both to the moment when you approached him outside of The Bear months ago.

Carmen stares at you without blinking, probably relieved to see a familiar face, and also terrified, because it’s you. It’s crystal clear he doesn’t know what is appropriate for him to do in this setting.

Deciding quickly, you move towards him, giving him a similar hug as to Elena—quick, light, and impersonal. When you feel his palm press against your lower back fleetingly, the touch immediately makes you shiver, unfortunately not completely in a bad way, but you don’t have the time to ponder.

“I’ve just fixed his hair a bit and covered some bits here and there,” Margot explains, already cleaning her brushes. You notice immediately that Carmen’s curls are more defined and softer looking. He also appears less tired, but that’s surely due to Margo’s concealer magic.

“Thank you, Margo, that’s perfect,” you say as Carmen stands unmoving.

“Carmen just needs to moisturize more,” she adds cheekily, giving Carmen a wink over her shoulder.

You suppress a laugh. You’re absolutely sure Carmen has no idea what moisturizing or face cream means. He’s as lost here as you had been in the Bear's kitchen.

“Uhm—” Carmen makes an unsure noise, his hand reaching up to his hair, but Margo interrupts him:

“No touching!” she says hurriedly. “Not until the end of the shoot.”

You laugh for real now.

“How is it looking, guys?” Elena calls from the other side of the studio, checking on you.

“We’re fine. Carmen’s about to get changed, so you can get ready, El.”

You turn back to Carmen, who’s checking the studio with a mix of hesitance and curiosity. He’s dressed in light blue denim—unusual—and a gray jumper you’ve seen on him before.

“I’ll help,” you assure him. As the stylist is absent, you promised Rob that you would give a hand on the shoot. Besides, some selected garments are meant to be ready, plus you know they had asked Carmen to bring some of his stuff. “Follow me.”

Disappearing behind a screen that creates a changing space with clothes and steamers, you come properly face to face.

“Hey,” you say, unable to think of anything better. Your voice remains steady despite the slight flutter in your chest.

“Hey,” he replies, offering a small, almost uncertain smile. He glances around, taking in the unfamiliar setting. “This is… different.”

“Yeah,” you agree, gesturing to the setup around you. “But it’s all about making you look good.”

Carmen chuckles softly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “No pressure, right?”

You smile, unable to play the Ice Queen anymore, and for a moment, the awkwardness between you dissipates. “Let’s get started.”

Carmen glances at you, seemingly reassured by your calm demeanor, even if he’s out of his element. You walk over to the clothes neatly hung on a rack. Immediately, you spot the cool embroidered Bode jackets, simple Carhartt pieces, more tailored Ami Paris clothes. There’s Maharishi and PAM too, probably included by the stylist based on your comment that Carmen likes the workwear style, though they are a bit too colorful.

You tell Carmen a little about every brand, trying to get him out of his head and focus on something else. To give him a taste of the world of magazines, media, and fashion. Similar to what he had done for you in the restaurant—when he was in a mood to talk about his dishes, ideas about combining ingredients, and crafting new flavors.

“What about this?” you suggest, handing him a soft, tan brown Carhartt WIP suede jacket. You know that Carmy knows Carhartt because you’ve seen him in their clothes, and you also know that he’s a big denim head. This garment will also help him not to feel as exposed in front of the camera at the start.

Carmen takes the jacket, his brow furrowing slightly as if he’s analyzing every stitch. He slips it on, and you can’t help but note how well it fits him. Natalie nailed the sizes of his clothes perfectly.

You go wait for him at the spot that Elena has set up, Margo already waiting there too, in case any adjustments to the hair are needed during the shoot. When Carmen finally walks over, Elena gives him a reassuring nod as he takes his place in front of the camera, hands in the jacket’s pockets. You watch from the sidelines, a little amused but mostly impressed at how the whole scene has come together. The large windows bathe the room in soft, natural light, casting shadows that play off the industrial vibe of the studio.

Carmen is nervous—anyone can see that—but he stands tall, doing his best to follow Elena’s quiet directions. You watch the laptop screen from the corner of your eye, where all photos appear after Elena presses the shutter, frame after frame. Carmen’s unease is apparent, and for a second you wonder if this really was such a good idea after all.

After another five painful minutes, it’s clear that it’s not getting better. You share a quick look with Elena and say, “Could you put some music on, girls?” Then, turning to Carmen, you add, “I think we can change the outfit now,” you say easily.

You go back to the styling corner, Carmen following you. When you’re both hidden again, you glance at Carmen whose whole body is stiff, discomfort oozing off him.

“This is really not so bad,” you start, but Carmen shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that would drive Margo mad if she saw it.

“I’m a chef, not… this,” he says, gesturing to the setting. “I’m not supposed to be in front of cameras, doing interviews, pretending like—like I fucking know what I’m doing. This is all bullshit.”

You take a deep breath, trying to figure out how to reach him. You’ve seen him under pressure before, but this is different. This isn’t about the restaurant; this is about him feeling out of place, exposed.

“Carmen, you’re right. You’re a chef, and a damn good one,” you say, keeping your tone calm and reassuring. It’s strange to be this way for a person who you’ve only ever seen confident and sure, except for what happened in the office two weeks ago.

“But this is part of it, too,” you carry on, trying to catch Carmen’s eye. “People want to know the person behind the food. They want to see the passion, the creativity. Even the struggle. That’s what makes the Bear special—it’s you.”

He looks at you, eyes filled with doubt. “But what if… what if they see through it? What if they realize I’m just faking it?”

You step closer, close enough to reach out, but you don’t. Instead, you offer him a small, genuine smile. “Then they’ll see that you’re human, just like the rest of us. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect, Carmen.”

He closes his eyes, exhaling slowly, trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if I can be that guy.”

“You don’t have to be anyone but yourself,” you reply gently. “And if you’re not feeling it, we can stop. We don’t have to do this. We could just use the pictures from the Bear.”

Carmen opens his eyes and looks at you, something shifting in his expression. It’s still a mix of fear and doubt, but there’s also a flicker of determination. “You really think I can do this?”

“Absolutely,” you confirm with deadly certainty.

The next moment, “1972” by The Smashing Pumpkins starts playing from the speakers in the studio.

Carmen surprises you by taking the initiative and choosing the clothes by himself. You turn when he starts shedding the jacket. Instead, you hang it back on the rack, needing something to do. When the rustling stops, you face the chef again. He’s wearing a pair of vintage Levi’s and a striped sailor crew neck. He looks good in the dark colors.

“Yeah?” he checks, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Yeah,” you nod, hoping it’s not obvious how much you like what you’re seeing. “Yeah.”

Gathering your courage, you reach to roll the sleeves up, exposing Carmen’s forearms, then move up to straighten the seams on his shoulders. You catch his gaze and this time, there’s a flicker of something—perhaps gratitude, or just recognition that you’re both navigating unfamiliar territory. Not just here, on the set, but also between you. You’re discovering another layer of your relationship, perhaps sensing that at this moment, you have the upper hand.

Carmen's expression softens from that tight apprehension to something more open, more trusting. “Thanks,” he says quietly, then looks down at himself, as if trying to imagine how he’ll appear in front of the camera now.

You step back slightly, giving him space, but also giving yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. The tension between you feels different than before, less about awkwardness and more like a mutual acknowledgment that neither of you has the playbook for this. And yet, you’re figuring it out together.

“Here,” you point Carmen to a big mirror in the corner, and he checks the reflection.

“I think I like it,” he says after a moment, and you give him a thumbs up, the silly gesture completely honest.

Back on set, with the music playing, the atmosphere lightens. Carmen doesn’t smile, but there’s a shift in the way he carries himself. He seems more settled in his skin, the dark colors enhancing his quiet confidence. Elena notices the difference immediately; she barely needs to give direction this time. He’s still far from relaxed, but there’s an authenticity in the way he stands, his gaze steady.

The photos start to reflect that subtle transformation, and you feel a tremendous sense of relief as you watch them pop up on the screen. Watching him, you feel an odd sense of pride. This isn’t just about Carmen being in front of the camera; it’s about him facing something that makes him uncomfortable and pushing through it, allowing himself to be vulnerable in this position. If you’re completely honest, you’re surprised that he’s willing to go through with this.

Elena seems pleased, giving Carmen a reassuring nod after every few clicks of the camera. When she finally steps back and lowers her lens, you see Carmen visibly exhale, tension easing from his frame.

“That was good,” Elena praises, glancing at the screen. “We’ve got some solid shots here.”

Carmen looks over, seemingly a little surprised, like he wasn’t quite sure it had gone as well as she said. “See?” you say, nudging him gently. “You nailed it.”

Carmen gives you a small, genuine smile this time. “Maybe,” he says, scratching the back of his head, messing up his styled hair.

After the third outfit change, Rob shows up, as planned, alongside the magazine’s publisher. As this had been arranged before the shoot, you hope it doesn’t throw Carmen off balance too much.

Luckily, Carmen slips into his professional chef mode as Rob greets him, calling him “Chef,” and thanking him sincerely for the opportunity. Rob shoots you a happy grin over Carmen’s shoulder. 

The final outfit is dark gray tailored wool pants and a simple white tee, similar to what you know as Carmen’s daily uniform—probably why he chose it. You suggest adding a nice leather belt with a silver clasp to complete the look. Elena positions Carmen on a high stool this time, changing angles and perspectives.

For the first time today, Carmen looks truly at ease, despite the additional onlookers. You know Rob is looking for the perfect shot for next month’s cover.

Elena captures a few more shots before lowering her camera. “That’s it! We’re done,” she announces, a smile of satisfaction on her face. “Carmen, you did amazing.”

Carmen slides off the stool, his shoulders visibly relaxing as the weight of the shoot lifts. He looks over at you, a small, almost sheepish grin playing at his lips. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

You laugh softly, walking over to him. “Told you. You nailed it.”

Rob joins you and Carmen. “Chef, you were great today,” he says, clapping Carmen on the shoulder. “Can’t wait to see the final shots.”

Carmen nods, clearly more comfortable now that the shoot is over. “Thanks, Rob. I appreciate it.”

Rob turns to you with a grin. “You too. Thanks for making this happen.”

You nod, feeling a bit of pride at how smoothly things turned out. You’re careful not to jinx it—after all, the interview is still looming in the second half of the day, after you’ve had something to eat.

For the interview, you and Carmen sit down in a corner of the studio that’s been set up to look more intimate—two chairs facing each other with a small table in between. Your notebook rests on your lap. Elena is supposed to take a few shots of the formal interview, and now it’s your turn to be nervous. Very nervous.

You did an extensive amount of research and preparation for the article, keeping in mind your personal history with Carmen. He’s not just another personality you’re interviewing. He’s a guy you once knew. A chef at whose restaurant you had worked, or volunteered. These facts leave you feeling like you’re balancing on a thin rope, and you’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how to approach the interview. In the end, you decide to let Carmen set the tone. He could keep it personal or strictly professional.

“How did you enjoy the shoot?” you ask with a mischievous smile, starting off lightly. You don’t need to check your notes for that.

Carmen smiles, rubbing his lips with his fingers. “It was a new, interesting experience. I’m afraid I wasn’t very good, but I hope you’ll be able to find a couple of decent images.”

“And one excellent for the cover,” you add, careful not to interrupt him.

Out of habit and nervousness, you adjust the recorder on the table between you, making sure it’s on. Then you glance at your notes.

“When we met in Copenhagen ten years ago, you were staging at Noma. How do you look back on those times—when you were at the beginning of your journey but already experiencing the kitchens of the world’s best restaurants?”

It takes a moment before Carmen responds. “I was very young and very lucky. I took every opportunity that came my way, worked hard—harder than most—to learn and grow, and hopefully to stand out.” Carmen’s words are measured, careful. “Noma was my first experience outside the US, and it was intimidating. But also—it’s an incredibly peaceful and inspiring place. I loved every moment there. It also helped that I knew someone familiar in Copenhagen. That definitely made me feel less alone.”

You catch yourself staring, a warm feeling spreading through your chest—liquid heat filling every corner. You imagine this is what drinking Felix Felicis must feel like. You smile, and Carmen returns it with a quick smile of his own.

Clearing your throat, you prepare for the real questions, the ones that have to live up to everyone’s expectations—Rob’s, Carmen’s, and mostly your own. As the interview progresses, you feel a shift in the atmosphere. The initial tension has faded, replaced by a sense of collaboration. You’re both here for the same reason: to tell a story that matters.

You ask Carmen about his journey in the culinary world, the chefs he’s worked with, and the chefs he looks up to. You discuss diligence, innovation, and respect. You briefly touch on the topic of Michael and Carmen’s family, letting him decide how much he wants to share.

“You can be more or less fortunate with the starting position you get in life. That’s out of your hands. But the rest is in your hands. There’s no point in thinking about how others might have it easier—it will only paralyze you, trust me. You have to focus on what you can do, what you can change. Take the little you have and turn it into everything you have. Be proud of it. Stand up for yourself. Value yourself, but also others.”

His words are thoughtful, and you can tell he’s reflecting deeply.

There’s a pause, and you realize he’s waiting for your next question. You nod, acknowledging the weight of his words. Carmen answered everything with a mix of humility and passion, offering you—and the audience—glimpses of the person behind the chef: the struggles, the doubts, the relentless drive to succeed.

You glance at your notes, then back at him.

“That’s it. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to share a glimpse of your life and The Bear’s story with Taste readers,” you say, finishing with a cheeky smirk, hoping Carmen knows you’re sincere.

Carmen chuckles at your tone. “Thank you for having me,” he replies, smiling with that familiar mix of modesty and quiet strength. “It was a pleasure to talk. Hopefully, your readers won’t be too bored.”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head. “I doubt that. If anything, they’ll be more intrigued than ever. You’ve got a story people want to hear—and not just about the food.”

He raises an eyebrow, studying you. "Well, that’s good to hear."

You stand up and reach out to shake his hand, a gesture of thanks and closure. He takes it, his grip firm but gentle. Then Rob approaches with more handshakes and thanks, joined by Mrs. Sullivan—the publisher. You quietly slip away, not wanting to disturb their networking, and head over to thank Elena and Margot, who have already packed up their gear while you were interviewing Carmen.

“You guys are cute together,” Margot teases, winking at you. “I didn’t know you actually knew him knew him.”

You absolutely do blush, and Elena adds, “Totally,” giving you a sly grin. “He IS cute.”

“You should see him in the kitchen,” you grumble, shoving your notebook into your tote bag to hide your flushed face.

Suddenly, Carmen appears next to you, having parted ways with Rob and Mrs. Sullivan, who likely have better things to do on a Sunday. “You did good,” he says quietly, almost as an afterthought, as if offering reassurance you didn’t know you needed.

Your chest warms again with that liquid heat, a mix of pride and gratitude blooming. You offer him one last, genuine smile.

“Thanks, Carmen,” you reply softly.

“Actually,” he begins, looking nervous again, hands on his hips, “I—I wanted to talk to you. If you have time now?”

He glances back at Rob, but the man is nowhere to be seen, already gone. Carmen nods, seeming relieved.

“Lead the way.”

—

The weather’s been sweltering lately, the sun heating up the city’s concrete walls, asphalt roads, and stone pavements until it feels like being in a big kiln. Luckily, the coffee shop has air conditioning, which both Carmen and you welcome. They are offering unusual caffeine drinks—most of them including something fruity and milky. Carmen orders a Coke with ice without checking the menu, and you go for an iced blueberry matcha latte.  

“Thank you for—” Carmen says when he’s seated properly, across from you once again.  

“Really, that’s enough of the thanks,” you wave him off, but Carmen talks over you, “For respecting that I wanna keep some things private. During the interview.”  

“Ah,” you nod slowly. “You know, normally I would send all the questions for authorization first,” you tell him truthfully, stirring your drink with the thin paper straw, mixing the green matcha with the milk froth and the purple syrup. “I wanted to be a bit nasty.”  

It’s Carmen’s turn to slowly nod, once. “I see,” he says. “I’m not surprised, honestly.”  

You fiddle with the collar of your cotton blouse nervously.  

“I appreciate that you had my back today,” Carmen continues. “It means a lot to me, you know?”

Not used to hearing kind words from Carmen, you find it hard to look at him directly, so you keep staring into your drink instead. “I think I do.”

As if sensing your hesitation, Carmen gives you a second before he asks:

“So, you have a thing for clothes, huh? Fashion, I mean.”

“As you do,” you shoot back playfully but honestly.

“I guess I enjoy the aesthetic aspect of it… I really liked some of the clothes today. It was nice to try something new. I’m not very good at new things,” he muses. “I liked the dress you wore in your office the other day. You looked—different,” Carmen adds uncertainly, playing with the napkin under the sweaty glass.

“I don’t wear dresses very often,” you stammer out, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “And in the restaurant, I wanted to be in something that can get dirty. So… not too fancy clothes.”

Carmen notices how caught off guard you are right now.

“I wanted to bring up the topic of what happened at your work,” he explains slowly, hesitantly. “And what happened at The Bear before that… A lot of the aggression comes from my own frustration. And I shouldn’t take it out on other people. Like I said, there’s no excuse for it.”

You squirm in your seat, nervous to talk about the topic out loud for the first time. “It’s hard, Carm. First, you pretend you don’t know me. Then you barely talk to me. Then I feel like we’re actually starting to get along well, but you accuse me of this huge nonsense. All the while, I’m only trying to help you.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because I don’t know how to respond to kindness.”

Your eyes fill up with tears, and you have to blink a couple of times to chase them away. You take a deep breath, your chest expanding with it. Carmen’s sitting still on the stool, looking like a schoolboy who had misbehaved during recess.

“Be kind to kind,” you say simply, spreading your hands, your eyebrows raising.

Carmen chuckles, sounding very self-deprecating, scratching his nose. “I’m working on it.”

He might think you’ll let it slide. You won’t. “Promise,” you press, urgent. “Promise me.”

His eyes meet yours, and he says it. “I promise.” Then once more, in a stronger voice: “I promise. And I’m sorry.” And your heart breaks for him because you know he’s never known much kindness.

“Deal.” To keep your hands occupied, you take out your chewing gum, wrapping it in an empty sugar packet. Then you raise your iced latte in a mock toast, taking a first sip of the drink.

“Just... be careful with the 'nasty' part,” Carmen says with a slight grin, breaking the tension. “I don’t think either of us needs more of that.”  

You chuckle. “Fair enough. I’ll try to keep the nastiness in check.”  

Carmen smirks, shaking his head as he relaxes back into his chair. “I appreciate that.”

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Imma give ya'll a lil sneak peek of something I've been working on.....

“And then he had the nerve to talk about me moving on too fast,” Jaiaina said to Trinity and Carmella as they sat in the VIP section of a club. “I mean, he broke up with me. What does he care if I moved on or not.” She said as she downed another shot. Carmelle and Trinity shared a look but didn’t say anything.  “And what fucking rumors?!” She turned to her best friends. “Yall heard rumors about me?” She let out a scoff and rolled her eyes when they both nodded. 

“Yeah, but we obviously don't believe it,”  Carmella said. 

“What's the rumor though?” 

Carmella shrugged and sipped her drink. “Something about you and AJ” 

Jaiaina's eyes widened. “AJ STYLES?!” She asked louder than necessary. “Ew, what the fuck. Where did that fucking come from?”

 Carmella sighed. “Okay, here's what I know. Apparently, someone saw you and him  leaving a hotel room together a couple of weeks ago.”

 Jaiaina scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Do these people know that he’s married and I would never do that to Wendy or his children?” She sighed. “And Josh knows that Allen was my mentor during my time in TNA.” 

“Girl you know how Josh is. He’s being an ass because he misses you.” Trinity said and Jaiaina rolled her eyes.  

“Yeah well, he shouldn’t believe rumors about me.” 

“And you miss him too, right?” Trinity questioned. 

Jaiania rolled her eyes. “Of course I miss him, I never said I didn’t.”

“ Do you still love him?” 

Jaiaian took another sip of her drink before answering. “Yes I still love him, but it is extremely obvious that he never did. We break up and the first thing he does is go fuck on one of our coworkers? That’s foul. Now every time I walk past that hoe she got a fucking smirk on her face that I wanna smack off. ” 

Trinity and Carmella found themselves nodding along with Jaiaina’s statement. It was an extremely foul thing for Josh to do. 

“I still don’t know what possessed him to do that. “ 

“I do.” Jaianina rolled her eyes. “He been wanting to fuck Dasha. Surprised he didn’t do it  while we were dating.” 

[astrophileblogs07]

Astro Observations pt.19

Hello guys!! Back after so long! I am sorry for not being active here...I am prepping for my med school entrance this year and so I have taken a year off. But since I missed you all, here i am ❣️

• People with Saturn ruling their 7th house/Leo risings or Saturn aspecting their 7th house lord in a good way, always, I mean ALWAYS have people come back to them in some form or way no matter how much time it takes. It is mostly due to any karmic ties with that person, either for the good or for the bad. (My mom has this placement and I have seen literally so many people who haven't been nice to her at first end up seeking significant help from her..). Saturn rules karma and the 7th house is not only about partnerships, but is also about open enemies, people who are bound to you by karma. • The second nakshatra(and the things related to it) from your nakshatra can help you to make money. Eg. If you are a Mrig, look at the next nakshatra i.e second from your nakshatra which would be Ardra. Even an Ardra person can help you gain money.

• This one is a bit weird (🤡)but people with strong Mars placement/ Mars dominant chart/ prominent Mars naturally have that aptitude of analysing 'flirting' behaviour(Idk what you call it when people are so observant and smart that they just know what your actions towards a particular individual mean and they also know why you're doing it 🙆🏻‍♀️). Also they learn that thing soooo earlyy in life....I have seen soooo manyyy kids with this placement when they are like 8 or 9 but their rizz level is 📈📈📈🔥. Even if there is no outside influence (like TV or people around them, or even if there is...they learn that veryyy fast and early in life). (IDK HOW Y'ALL DO THAT? 😭😭🤣🤣) {Mars is charming ✨✨)

# Here is this small fun fact about my life: (Saturn rules time and hence clocks). When I had my first Saturn dasha (Sade sati) I was in 4th grade that time. One of the effects of Saturn Dasha is that it actually makes your understanding and mind slow. (grasping power becomes slower than usual). And the fun fact here was, at that time, we were learning how to read time on clock (like time elapsed, time left and solving math problems on that.) but I was the only one who couldn't understand it properly and made so manyyy mistakes, got scolded by teachers and my mom lol 😂.

#I have noticed 2 things in an Ashwini 🐴🐴 1. They are the early earners of their family may be due to family issues (not usually) but most of the times coz they're ambitious.

2. They have some serious Daddy issues. Every Ashwini I have seen has a bad memory with their dads bruising/destroying their ego in the worst way possible (like for example: insulting you in front of public, targeting you and your insecurities). And the added cherry on top is they're the first people to pack their bags and leave/ move out early. Like anything they'd do to stay away from their fathers. 🤷🏻‍♀️🥸 3. Ashwini and Pushyas are match made in Heaven (after Bharani ofc)

# In my previous post i had mentioned about the moon and Asc getting along. That happens only when they're in the same sign. But one more observation which contradicts this one is that when your moon sign and the other person's asc are in opposite signs... that's ⚔battlefield ⚔ right there. 💀💀 (Me being an Aries moon, have literally had the worst fights with Libra asc.)

That's all from my side for today. Hope to return soon! (srsly wanna post more 😫) Thank you my Tumblr Fam!❤❤❤💕😘💖 Lotsss of Love to you all! (Bye, going MIA again 🤡)

[authenticmiya]

Boston - Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Summary - Based off of the song ‘Austin’ by Dasha. You were Highschool sweethearts and suddenly that all went away.

Words - 1.6k

Warnings - angst /small mention of alcohol

“We had a plan, move out of this town, baby

West to the sand, it's all we talked about lately

I'd pack the car, bring your guitar and jane for smokin'

First thing at dawn, you'd queue the songs and we'd get goin'

But you weren't home, waited on the porch for ya

Sat there alone, all throughout the morn' 'til I

Got a hunch down in my gut and snuck around the back

Empty cans and I'll be damned, your shit was never packed”

"We hit twenty five thousand subscribers baby." Chris declared excitedly as he burst into his room. You were just chilling, awaiting the finish of the triplets' filming.

"No fucking way!" Excitedly jumping up, he embraced you into his arms.

"I'm so proud of you." You whispered, treasuring the moment as their success was very evident.

"We're gonna be in LA sooner than you think." And that was the promise you knew he'd keep. The problem was, that sentence would have the worst outcome in the future.

"Wrap around porch with a puppy?" He nodded excitedly, oh the plans you guys had ready and waiting. They had been planned for the years you'd been together.

It wasn't unknown that being around the Sturniolo household was a daily ritual. You guys were known as the 'Highschool Sweethearts'. How cliché?

"YouTube is kicking off for us and so will your music Y/N." Chris couldn't stop embracing you, excitement yet anxiety filling both of you. That was potentially the most gut wrenching memory to think about. All of the empty promises and plans.

Just like that, a couple of months had gone by. The 'Highschool Sweethearts' seemingly both on board with the thought of going back and forth to LA. They had hit just short of 500k. You had a label willing to sign you in LA. It was all falling into place and before you knew it, the days were building up to the ultimate move across the states.

"I really hope you know what decisions you're making Y/N. I feel like this is all very overwhelming and too good to be true." Your best friend declared and you looked at her funnily.

"I'm not laughing, has Chris even replied to your last eight messages about your flight tomorrow?" And come to think of it, no he hadn't. But he was definitely just busy finalising his packing, wasn't he?

"I'm going to walk to their house after I add the finishing touches to my suitcases. I tried texting Matt but he's not answering either..." Your thinking face came on immediately but quickly faded when you thought there was nothing to worry about.

"He's definitely just sorting stuff out." You muttered.

"We've been together for nearly three years, I don't think he's having doubts." Defending him again.

"I never said anything about him having doubts, that's on you." And so she left you to your own device of figuring out what really was going on with your boyfriend. She wasn't angry, of course not. However, best friends - true best friends always have the better instinct on situations regarding those they care about.

With Travis Scott blasting through your AirPods, your walk to the Sturniolo household began. It was nearing 2pm. Their parents' cars weren't in the drive once you arrived but the minivan was. You had pre-warned quite literally all three of the triplets that you were on your way over, none replied but Chris had the audacity to leave it on read.

"I'm on your porch and you're ignoring me." Sadness suddenly waved across you. What was the real reason none of them were answering?

"Chris?" You knocked on the door. After a solid 45 minutes, your heart was practically hung. There was one last option, head around the back. What a terrible option to pick, you should've just made your way home.

"What the fuck?" Mixed cans of Pepsi, BUD Light and Dr Pepper pretty much everywhere and what sounded like a Bluetooth speaker somewhere in the back yard. What hurt the most was three very familiar voices could be heard, those of whom had ignored you all damn day.

The question was, do you or do you not go in and make your hurt known to all of them?

"Y/N?" Torn from your heartbroken thoughts, Nate noticed you were there and called you out in front of everyone. Making solid eye contact with Chris, he was like a deer in headlights.

"So, this is what you guys have been up to today?" You questioned, an eyebrow quirked in confusion. If it wasn't awkward before, it definitely was now.

"I wanted to call you-" Nick began but was cut short.

"Boys night." Chris stated.

"It's 2pm Chris, hardly a boys night."

"Well we're continuing this through the night." Why was he being so blunt?

"Are you guys all packed and ready for LA at least?" The colour drained from Nicks face, Matt remained silent and Chris was damn right being rude.

"Your shits not even packed?" Everything you were saying seemed to be going over his head.

"Stop fucking ignoring me Chris!" The band had snapped but you were the one breaking.

"Are we going as a team? A couple? A fucking pair of friends? Are we going together at all?" You deemed an answer.

"Jesus Christ Y/N, I can't do this with you anymore. We're gonna be social media influencers and you're gonna jet off on world tours. We've changed, it's not gonna work." Chris' words felt like venom. The cat really had your tongue. Not to forget that he had just called you out in front of everyone both you and him cared about.

"You can't be serious..." You're too strong to cry in front of him, surely you're too strong to cry in front of him.

"Deadly." He stated coldly.

"We might be on the same flight out there but we're not jetting off to the same life like we had here." His triplet brothers were always going to side with him but they had awfully guilty looks as they watched this whole scene unfold in front of them.

"That's it? You're just going to give up on us? You've not even made it to the West Coast and LA has already gotten to your head? What about the wrap around porch?" You didn't even have it in you to stay any longer, the tears were threatening to fall and that was enough to send you running home. Chris had a flash of sadness cover his face but he quickly subsided this, not wanting to let his 'guard' down.

"There's no way that's what just happened." Nick was out of words, confused by his brother and heartbroken for you, his so called best friend.

"Well it did, let's turn up the music."

That was the last you heard from all of them. Chris unfollowing you on Instagram just before boarding your shared flight. Of course without a secure clarification of whether you to were together but it was evident now. If LA was going to be the fresh start then hitting that big red block button was also on your list. You just couldn't do it.

In the studio, a few weeks later.

"Y/N you can take five if the chorus is too much." Your manager politely offered.

"This is the verse, the sealed deal, I'm not backing out of it." You'd gotten a bigger following in a short amount of time. Having one single already teased seemed to bring you lots of attention. Writing songs based on your personal experiences were becoming both a blessing and a curse.

“Did your boots stop workin'?

Did your truck break down?

Did you burn through money?

Did your ex find out?

Where there's a will, then there's a way

And I'm damn sure you lost it

Didn't even say goodbye

Just wish I knew what caused it

Was the whiskey flowin'?

Were you in a fight?

Did the nerves come get you?

What's your alibi?

I made my way back to LA

And that's where you'll be forgotten

In forty years you'll still be here

Drunk washed up in Boston”

You’d proudly gone over your chorus multiple times very well and without tears. The first time you’d written down the lyrics and actually sang them out loud was very different. The feelings and emotions of the situation with Chris really became a reality.

“Y/N, this is gonna be one hell of a fucking hit!” Your manager screeched. Reaching LA, your genre of music was solely gonna be based on your personal preference.

“Hell of a bluff, you had me believin'

How many months did you plan on leavin'?

What happened? Bad habits?

Did you go back? Go batshit?

I loved you, how tragic, oh-oh”

After wrapping up in the studio, you headed straight home. Thankfully you were successful in renting out a 2 bedroom apartment. Of course being in the upcoming limelight was a dream come true but deep down, it was lonely. Three people completely missing out on what would be your success. After a warm bath and some listening to snippets of your single, you couldn’t help but check up on the Sturniolo’s social media’s.

Very quickly, it was a deep regret. They were ‘happy’ and it hurt like hell. Why couldn’t you have all been happy together?

“Alexa why are you fucking playing Kelly Clarkson right now?” You grew emotional, bringing your kneels to your chest as you rested in the sofa.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get that.”

“Fuck you.” You muttered.

“Y/N, your song already had two million hits. They’re going to play it on the radio!” You were quick to burst into cheers and tears as your team surrounded you. Your manager silenced everyone and turned the radio up.

“Here we have the new and quite frankly, most requested upcoming artist. This is Boston by Y/N. Her song debuted just three days ago with her team telling us that she worked incredibly hard.” As the song played on the radio, it all became surreal. The small town Boston girl who had always dreamed about this, finally got her wish. One of the producers wrapped you into a hug as you began sobbing.

“You done it and you deserve it, here’s to Y/N!” That night, they had informed you that there was a party. This was all for you to celebrate not only your single, but your future to! Applying the final touches of mascara, your phone pinged.

Instagram

christophersturniolo sent you a message: Boston?

[witchersmistress]

Cowboy Blues

Just a quick little snippet this morning, i included the song for those who are not familiar with it.

Summary: Sy explaining the cowboy hat rule to his new friend Rory

word count: 534

Trigger warnings: Suggestive comment, inappropriate thoughs (Sy) and warm fuzzy feelings.

A loud horn blared in the bar. Everyone settled down and looked over at the bartender, “ Clear the floor” Everyone around the bar made way  for 6 girls who came out into the middle of the floor and took their places. The middle one in the first row had my attention. She was short in stature, plump and curvy. Red hair that cascaded down her back. Daisy duke shorts with a simple black t-shirt with a v cut to show off her ample cleavage. Classic cowboy boots as they all started line dancing to a song called “ Austin” the bar started clapping alone to the rhythm. She was absolute perfection, the way she moved her hips had my balls aching. I willed myself to settle down, don't need a hard on in the middle of a crowded bar. We locked eyes and it was like the world slowed as she came towards me. She stretched her hand out to me, grabbing it, and she pulled me into the dance with her. I fell in step with her with ease. Her smile was genuine as we danced, pulling her in close, she snatched my cowboy hat right off my head, placing it on her head with a confident smile. A heat ignited within me, she’s wearing my hat. The men who were previously eye fucking her looked away in disappointment, thats right motherfuckers, she is mine. Pride swelled in my chest and she had no clue what she had done. The song ended and she pulled me towards the bar and ordered water for her and a bourbon for myself. She thanked me as she drank it greedily. Placing the almost empty cup on the bar, I signaled to the barkeep another glass. She smiled “ I’m Rory” she extended her hand out to me as i took it. “I'm Logan but most everyone calls me Syverson” she smiled and went to pull her hand away as i held on, pulling her back out onto the dance floor as another song played. She laughed as we danced for a few moments before my curiosity got the best of me.

“You do know the rules of wearing a man's cowboy hat, don't you sugah? Cocking an eyebrow, she bit at the corner of her lower lip with a head shake  as her hips swayed to the beat of the music. “Well allow me to enlighten you”  with a crooked grin, I leaned close to her  . Her green eyes widened at my remark “ the rule is simple” pulling her closer into my frame, placing a hand on her lower back. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as I leaned down and whispered “ if you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy”  I could hear her gulp as I pulled away. She was opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of  water. She was frozen in her spot. Such a tempting little morsel. Leading her back to the bar, I down the rest of my bourbon, tossing a twenty next to the empty glass and hollering  at my boys “ I'll see y'all later”. I pulled her into my side and walked her out the door.

[advantage-tennisblr]

get ready for serve...

🎾 advantage tennisblr is now open for prompts! 🎾

submit prompts by december 5 to see tennisblr's finest rpf experts put their talents to work inspired by your brilliant ideas.

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taylor fritz, the american dream

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dasha kasatkina/natalia zabiiako/wta player of your choice, a very special adult episode of what the vlog

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[bouquetface]

Can I ask a request for kpop cha eunwoo ? He have confirmed birth time - 12:08, born at 30 March 1997 in Anyang-si , South Korea. Thank you so much

Cha Eunwoo - Marriage Prediction

Heartbreak:

He is going to experience heartbreak before marriage. His Venus Sun conjunction with Venus holding the lowest degree shows metaphorically his Venus (his love) is moving toward the Sun. He will be be “burned” in his love life before finding true love and peace.

Dasha Periods indicate at least one heartbreak may have taken place 2019-2024. This was his Venus/Venus and Venus/Sun period it activates his sun-venus conjunction.

Spouse Meeting:

The meeting seems to be a place where she is comfortable. She may have been to this before and/or she knows people at this location.

The location is likely a place meant for entertainment and fun. Eunwoo may be attending for work/networking reasons too. Examples not exact location: Award show, after party for an award show, a regular party/celebration or a club/bar/restaurant.

Spouse Appearance:

Pale skin complexion. Medium to tall height. Beauty mark somewhere on the body. Prominent bone structure - thin to lean, sharp features but not too sharp as Venus is in Pisces.

Exalted Venus shows an attractive spouse. However, Ketu influence suggests there is something unconventional about her. Examples: unique style, unique features, unique personality or possibly from a different culture/background.

Venus aspect Moon in water signs shows spouse may have glossy eyes. Dreamy, ethereal appearance.

She is likely younger than him. However, due to Saturn’s influence, she doesn’t appear super youthful. They likely look a similar age.

Spouse Family + Background:

Her mother was likely encouraging and protective. Her mother helped her achieve her dreams. Her mother had a big influence on her dreams. The mother may have influenced her daughter/his spouse to pursue a specific career.

At times, her mother crosses boundaries. She may be controlling. The mother will want to be involved in their married life. The mother has potential to cause issues and annoy them. The mother is opinionated and does not easily take “no” as answer. She will be pushy.

The spouse may have spent a lot of time separated from her father. This could be due to him working a lot. Her father seems to have failed her in some ways. He may have been emotionally or physically absent for important events. The household may have been tense, loud and aggressive. Neither parent held back their opinions and may have yelled/fought a lot.

Overall it does not appear to be a serious issue in adulthood. It is what the spouse experienced in childhood. The parent’s are likely divorced.

The spouse may have younger sisters. The young sibling is like a best friend to her. The younger sibling is likely very attractive and youthful in appearance.

Spouse Career:

It is difficult to tell her career. She may have tried several paths. She may have attended university and changed her program or even dropped out. She may model. Her work reaches a wide audience. Her way is unique and remains changing. She may have a desire to do something innovative, rebel against the expected norm.

Relationship:

He is a very romantic person. His spouse will be artistic. She will enhance his creativity and act as a muse/inspiration for him. She is witty and bold in communication. She speaks her mind.

She is constantly learning and changing/adapting, she seeks new experiences, she is a curious person, she is very fast moving. She may have a short attention span. She may focus too much on specific plans or details and overlook the bigger picture.

After marriage his workload increases within 7 years. He may find better opportunities. He gains more status and responsibilities. His spouse will have knowledge and/or connections to help him advance and gain. They may do some work together.

His spouse will help him with his responsibilities. She will organize and take on some burdens without being asked. Naturally, she feels the need to take this initiative after marriage.

Children:

His first child is likely a son or more masculine in personality. The first child likely marries someone from a different cultural background. The first child may make a careless spending/investment/business choices. Nothing too extreme. The first child has a very strong bond with Eunwoo.

[dreamsy990]

revised my penelope design! gonna yap about the process because i did a lot with this. you dont have to read what im talking about if you just wanna see the art i will not be offended dvbvgfvg anyways putting this under a read more to be nice

so here was a sketch of my old pen design for reference. she was super simple and mostly done as a placeholder. i still like this design a bit but my biggest issue with it was that over time i ended up drawing odysseus pre-calypso with those exact bangs??? and i wanted them to look different. and ive gotten very comfortable drawing odysseus like that and i needed to redo penelope anyways to make her design more interesting so! i figured id change her. so first thing i did with her was change her hair!

doing a different thing with my design process here where i actually uh. used references. very new process for me,,,,, i normally just kinda fuck about and find out. anyways i wanted to keep her bun but i wanted to make it look different enough so i pulled up a TON of references off pinterest that i liked and wanted to mess around with.

and these are the three sketches i made based on these references! ended up mostly going with the first one (the bangs are inspired by 2 of the images in the bottom right of my reference page). i thought of complicating it but i think something simple honestly works for her! pen doesnt really give me the vibe of someone who cares all that much about doing something intricate with her hair. idk. so shes relatively simple. i shortened her bangs and called it a day! anyways and then i had to face the horrors: clothes

greek clothing is SCARY it was really hard for me to find good references originally. i started with looking at stuff from hercules since it seemed easy enough? so i grabbed a couple references of women in the movie and then asked my father to name women from the show for me to look at. i barely ended up looking at them though. i figured some live action movies might be good so i grabbed two pictures of helen in troy and a circe and pen from the odyssey (THERES ALMOST NO GOOD SHOTS OF PEN IN THE ODYSSEY MOVIE OH MY GOD). havent seen the odyssey but i hear its good? idk it looks funny as hell to me. troy was pretty bad though. anyways. i grabbed a couple drawings of gigi and wolfys penelope designs too. and then i forced myself to look into greek clothing. sighhh. so i grabbed a couple more historically accurate refs. these were actually helpful.

with that stuff in mind i threw out these three penelope concepts. i liked the color palette i had for her being mostly blue and gold, and black and white are basically free colors for me. she has an earring here i just forgot to color them thats in the final art though. anyways. i added a little pattern on whatever was blue on here to match with telemachus (thats also in the final image lol). otherwise i sort of just messed around with things i like. i sent these in the epic discord to get outsider opinions and teh general consensus (which i agree with) was that 2 was the best design, but 1 had really nice sleeves. so then i threw out a final draft.

heres my final penny! im not entirely sure this is the best i could do with her but im happy with this as her design for right now. itll probably change organically over time as most of my designs do, but im happy with this overhaul for now.

as a bonus for sticking around so long, heres a silly redraw of a sketch by my lovely mutual @asha-dasha and also a miserable little tele for when i got distracted working on this

[rhodesrider]

Brothers…

CG!Jey Uso x Little!Fem!Reader || CG! Jimmy Uso x Middle! Dasha (OC)

Warnings: Age regression, constant fighting (Acts that came from the result of the RR 2024), affirmations, mentions of kitchen knife, slight cussing

Minors DNI 18+

~

The twins both glare at each other as they sat across from each other. Not once have they broken eye contact, both remembering the showdown on Saturday before the other number came in. Both Y/N and Dasha both sat on the larger couch in the middle of the room a bit nervous to even say anything. Dasha looked over at Jimmy seeing his deadly glare, Y/N glanced usually seeing Jey in cheerful moods but it just seems so different it scared her some. Dasha sighed and grabbed her carebear sunshine and threw it straight at Jimmy. Y/N tried to stop her quick but it was too late, she launched it at Jimmy and soon saw it was caught while still having the stare down. “Princess no throwing things.” He said low as he mauled his brother with his eyes. “I’m trying to enjoy my play date with my bestie and you are acting like a butt.” She pouted. Soon Jey snapped out of it looking at Y/N, seeing the look on her face displeased him. Dasha rolled her eyes and grabbed Y/Ns hand taking her to her playroom. “Hopefully you two don’t kill yourselves.” She muttered as they went upstairs. Jey sat back in his chair, sighing at his actions seeing that it made Y/N upset. “Damn you can’t even be a good care-“ “You finish that sentence y’all gone need another table uce.” Jey hissed at Jimmy. Jimmy just smirked. “Oh so you dealing with Dasha like that made you Daddy of the year?” Jey confronted. Jimmy rolled his eyes but also remembered the look and words that Dasha gave. “Well it’s yo fault.” Jimmy said trying to put blame on his brother. Jey just gave him a look and sighed in defeat. “Shut up man.” “Don’t tell me to shut up.” At this point it’s sibling banter and they are gonna continue this for a while. Y/N was still listening in.

“Y/N you wanna have a tea party? Jimmy finally let me get a kettle in my playroom! I just have to be careful.” Y/N didn’t say a word while sitting on the highest step just listening to them. “I miss it when they were friends…” Y/N held on to her teddy bear sighing remembering when Jey was in the bloodline and they were getting along. It’s kind of confusing and too much for her now. Dasha sympathized with her. “I know, Daddy has been so different since working with uncle Roman more and uncle solo. But it’s their job. He doesn’t wanna let family down…” “He let his brother down.” Y/N mumbled. Dasha doesn’t agree with all the bloodline does, so again she understood where Y/N came from. “Hey I know, wanna have a picnic outside?” Dasha smiled. “You think right now is the perfect time to have a lunch?” Y/N asked. “It’s the perfect time sweetie.” She smirked having a great idea.

After a while of silence, the twins were wondering what the girls were up to. They soon saw them running down the stairs with tablecloths and a white basket. “No running.” Jimmy voiced and they slowed down. “What are y’all up to anyway?” Jey asked. “Picnic.” Dasha said plainly and continued to get ready. Y/N did the same and got up ingredients for the food they were gonna make. “Do y’all need some-“ “No.” The girls said in sync and the twins looked at each other. Not in a murder way but a concerned daddy way. “Ok…y’all call us if you need us.” They continued to get stuff together, Dasha was the oldest in her headspace so she handled sharp stuff. She grabbed a big knife though and Jimmy jumped up going to her. “Babygirl here’s a butter knife.” “But I can’t cut the sandwiches with this daddy.” “I’ll cut the sandwiches then I just don’t want you hurting yourself mamas.” She nodded and got a kiss on her forehead. Dasha sent a small signal to Y/N and soon she went to climb the counter. Jey quickly ran to get her down. “Baby why?” “I need to get the peanut butter for the ants on a log.” Jey sighed and got the peanut butter down for her, “Next time princess asked for me not just do it yourself, I don’t want you hurt.” Jey smiled. She nodded. “Can you help me with my sandwiches and treat please papa?” Y/N smiled. Jey glanced at Jimmy who wasn’t even worried about him anymore. He was busy helping Dasha and praising her on the amounts of food she’s measuring right. Jey nodded and helped her on the other side of the kitchen.

Dasha and Y/N placed the food outside after the twins helped them set up. “Y’all made a lot of food.” Jimmy said a bit hungry himself. Y/N sat her teddy down in a chair next to her. “Yea we did.” Dasha said glancing at him while putting on her tiara. “We could join y’all if you want.” Jey suggested. “Sure just don’t start fighting? Unless you can’t do that.” Dasha said and sat down. Jimmy saw that a bit unfair looking at Jey, “Come on mamas.” “No there is no come on, you two fight more than me and Angelica. Either you two stop bickering and sit with us, or you go back in the house and fight.” Dasha voiced. Y/N looked at Jey, he looked back and sighed. “Jimmy, I know you don’t like me right now but it’s for the girls…” Jimmy looked at Dasha who gave him the ultimatum and sipped out her cup. “Fine…” “What was that?” Jey asked. “I’ll do it. But this don’t change anything-“ “Please Mister Jimmy…” Y/N said low playing with her shirt just wanting them to get along for now. Jey saw the look in her eyes and sat down across from Y/N. “Come on man.” Jimmy sighed and went to sit next to his brother. “Is that turkey?” Jimmy asked getting a nod from Dasha and getting the sandwich. At first it was awkward, but then they started laughing, telling stories on old times of fighting together and even when they were little. Y/N smiled mouthing to Dasha thank you, she nodded and she grabbed an ant on a log stick giggling.

After the picnic, they cleaned up and got their stuff together to get ready to go. “Today was fun!” Y/N said hugging Dasha, she hugged back and the brothers still were talking to each other with no sign of murder. “Me too! Can she come back next weekend?” Jimmy and Jey looked at each other and smiled. “Sure princess.” Dasha smiled and Y/N hugged Jey happy. “Come on baby it’s getting late.” Jey dapped his brother up and walked out the door but realized what he just did. “Huh.” Jimmy smirked, Jey looked back seeing his brother flip a bird. “You still an enemy uce.” “Just set it to the side for the girls.” He smirked and returned the bird. “OOOOOOO IM TELLING UNCLE ROMAN!” Jimmy quickly got in the house. “Ayo chill!” Jey laughed and looked at Y/N, who was calling Cody. “Hey wait I’m sorry angel!” She giggled locking the car so she could continue her snitching. “Come on baby I’m sorry!!!” Jey cried out.

Y/N was just happy to see the twins together somewhat, she was tired of the fighting so why not get them to work in the same place. Dasha and her were happy the plan worked and also had an awesome day. Happy that the fighting stopped. For now.

[plutorine]

on lizaveta nikolaevna (demons)

— some supplementary notes / new knowledge i've picked up about liza; a bit of a ramble-y essay. may contain spoilers.

so i finished demons around late december of last year, and much like what i did after i finished crime and punishment, i went on to hunt for some journal articles about demons. i like doing that to refresh my knowledge on what i just read and clarify some themes that i might have glossed over. something i noticed was the lack of articles about liza tushina — i really wanted to understand her character some more, so i was bemoaning the scarcity of articles written about her (most of the ones i've come across are usually about stavrogin) on my private twitter account.

BUT. but. i did some more digging and found instead an article about dasha. i fully expected it to tackle her character only, but i was surprised to see that liza was mentioned several times in it.

i've always thought about the significance or the "rationale" of liza's character in demons. i thought about her a lot even after i've read the book, and i was always trying to figure out what dostoevsky could be possibly communicating to his readers through her. the general idea that i got (after weeks of Thinking Really Hard) is that liza's somehow a counterpart (i'm using this very loosely here) of stavrogin's being the disconnected, westernized russian man.

in the article i mentioned, liza is described as such:

in comparison to dasha:

as we know, liza is not above displaying her emotions; she also doesn't hold back especially when there's something she wishes to say. by dostoevsky's standards, liza is a "westernized" woman, too — she's passionate, assertive, and progressive, not at all like his otherwise "meek" female characters (e.g. dasha in this case; sonya from c&p) who embody the traits of a Good Christian Girl™️

another interesting point i want to touch on is liza's poor health / sickly disposition. there's a passage where the narrator says that liza rides around town according to the doctor's advice. additionally, we know that she's prone to hysterics / having fits. apart from a physical sense, i think this can also be understood as a "spiritual sickness", or at least a kind of vulnerability, which made her susceptible to the temptations of the moral bloodsucker that is stavrogin. she succumbs to temptation, she sins, and she buckles under the weight of her sin.

a little off tangent but the article i'm referencing here also talked about how this sickly-ness of liza is like that of stavrogin; it's something born out of her social class. it's why she holds much contempt towards dasha — liza thinks it's outrageous that she has to compete with a "serf-wench" for stavrogin's attention. it also explains why she thinks that marya lebyadkina can't possibly be her other rival, because she's outside her circle / way below the social status ladder, and therefore does not exist to her and is not a valid candidate as another rival for stavrogin's attention.

whew. anyway, that's it. i've wanted to make a longer post about this because i can only write so much on twitter, and because i've always been fascinated with liza ever since i finished the novel. please don't take this as me hating her — much like the other characters, she's got her own flaws that should be acknowledged alongside her strengths. this is simply me looking back on what i've read and making it make more sense to myself.

also, if you're interested in reading the article for yourself, this is the title:

if for any reason you don't have access to this / can't access it, feel free to send me a dm and i can email you a copy of it ^^

[wcters]

LOVE ME TILL AUGUST

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 750+

summary: luke was leaving. you wanted to be together before he left for boston

warnings/contents: angst, fluff, kissing, “she was like a shot of espresso” typa stuff

author’s note: based on love me till august by dasha

His hand was in your hair, scratching your head slightly and fiddling with the strands. You were laying against him with your head on his chest, his chin in the top of your head. It was quiet. No one wanted to talk, to remind yourselves of the reality that was soon to happen. You knew one of you would have to. You’d been avoiding it as well as you could but it was practically staring you in the face, taunting you.

“I love you,” you whispered, hand moving over his that was helping him support himself. The hand in your hair paused for a second until it continued. He hoped you didn’t notice . . . But you did. You always did. He hated and loved that about you. You knew him like the back of your hand; knew where every scar was, every story behind them, every freckle, every thought ━━ like you were is his brain, you knew every ridge and cavity. And he knew the same for you. He knew you hated this like he did ━━ that you were scared but you wouldn’t admit it until the last minute. You were scared that he would use that against you, but he never did. He was the only person you would talk about your feelings to, the only person who you would see the real you.

“I love you.” he replied, moving to kiss your head. You guys never said too. something stupid you hated, too sounded like you were agreeing. Agreeing isn’t bad, to you it just sounded like someone was agreeing to the ‘I love you’ to please you. You knew about pleasing all too well, and Luke never wanted you to feel as though you were forced to please him. He wanted you, not the one who smiled when someone said something mean or doing something for someone because they just asked you to. He wanted the you who would put up a fight with him and the one who was not afraid to voice her displeasure. He wanted to remind her everyday, especially because he was leaving.

“Not even the sun compares to you, you know?” He voiced, looking at you from where he was. He couldn’t see it, but he knew you blushed from your little laugh. “Well, actually, you’re my sun. You brighten my day and I’m never afraid that you won’t be there because when I look, your always there. Like the sun.” He rambled. He moved his chin off your head as you turned to look at him, tears on the front of your waterline. “Luke.” You sadly laughed, looking at him with a soft smile. “You are.” The brunette argued. “And you’ll always be there. Even if you aren’t with me.” Now he was getting emotional as you looked at him. You moved to wipe the stray tear moving down his face.

“I have never regretted that kiss. Not now, not ever. I hate that I started this and I can’t quite finish it right.” He sighed. You cupped his face with you hands. “Lu, look at me.” You told him. His eyes met yours. “I don’t regret it either. Even if I knew this is how it would end. You’re my sun too, my light on a dark day. But I don’t want to hold you back,” you softly smiled, “you’re going to college in Boston and you are going to do so well. You’re going to get a job somewhere and one day we’ll meet somewhere. You’ll be in a fancy suit and i’ll be in joggers or something.” You laughed, tears dropping down. He laughed too.

“But let’s forget about that. We have one day left. Let’s not waste it being sad. Let’s be in the moment, make a couple more memories before you leave, okay?” You nodded, eyes still looking into his. He nodded, smile on his face. “Alright.” He was silent for a moment, something in his face gave away he wanted to ask something. “Anything, luke.” You reassured him.

“Will you stay with me during the night? And maybe read to me?” He asked, the vulnerable side of him coming out. He had never fully admitted or asked you to read to him, you just did. You knew he liked it. “Of course Luke.” You rubbed you thumb over his check before moving to kiss him. He did the same, before pulling away. “I’m going to miss that.” He joked. You moved your hands from his face to lightly push him. “You big dummy.”