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esotericalchemist · 8 months ago

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𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 - 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫 ✧˖°.

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In Vedic astrology, the ruler of the 10th house plays a crucial role in shaping your career, professional success, and public image. While the 10th house governs your aspirations, ambitions, and how you are perceived in your career, the planet ruling that house provides deeper insights into how you achieve your goals and the nature of your profession. The placement of the 10th house ruler in the chart adds another layer, indicating where your career energies are focused and what kind of opportunities or challenges you may face. Understanding the 10th house ruler helps reveal the path toward success, showing how your personal strengths, ambitions, and the planetary influences converge to shape your professional life.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Capricorn in the 10th house, your career is shaped by Saturn, the ruler of Capricorn. This placement makes you ambitious, disciplined, and focused on long-term success. You approach your career with seriousness and dedication, determined to reach the top through hard work and perseverance. While your progress may be slow, Saturn's influence ensures that the achievements you build are solid and lasting. Challenges in your career will teach you valuable lessons in patience and resilience, and over time, you’re likely to gain recognition for your reliability, responsibility, and leadership skills. You thrive in structured environments that require organization and long-term planning.

Saturn through the Houses:

Saturn in the 1st House: Your career is a core part of your identity. You feel a strong sense of responsibility and work hard to establish a solid reputation, often taking on leadership roles.

Saturn in the 2nd House: Financial security is important to you, and you take a careful, steady approach to building wealth. You might work in fields related to finance, banking, or resource management.

Saturn in the 3rd House: Communication, writing, or teaching could be key elements of your career. You have a disciplined approach to learning and sharing knowledge, making you a natural teacher or writer.

Saturn in the 4th House: Your career could be linked to real estate, land, or home-related industries. Balancing work and family life may be a central theme in your professional journey.

Saturn in the 5th House: You may face challenges in expressing your creativity or leadership, but you work hard to develop these skills. A career in education, working with children, or creative fields may suit you.

Saturn in the 6th House: You thrive in structured, service-oriented careers, such as law, administration, or health. You are diligent and take on responsibilities, often being the problem-solver in the workplace.

Saturn in the 7th House: Partnerships play an important role in your career, whether through law, consulting, or other collaborative fields. Professional relationships may take time to grow but are key to your success.

Saturn in the 8th House: You may find yourself in careers involving finance, research, or transformation, such as investigative work. Success may come after overcoming significant challenges, particularly in shared resources.

Saturn in the 9th House: Higher education, law, or philosophy may shape your career. You are dedicated to learning and could work in fields like teaching, publishing, or travel, where your discipline helps you excel.

Saturn in the 10th House: You are highly driven in your career, and leadership roles are likely in your future. While it may take time, your hard work will lead to success and authority in your professional life.

Saturn in the 11th House: You may work in large organizations, social causes, or network-focused careers. You value long-term connections and are likely to achieve success through teamwork and collaboration.

Saturn in the 12th House: Careers in spirituality, healing, or behind-the-scenes work may appeal to you. You’re disciplined in solitude and may find fulfillment in helping others, possibly in hospitals, research, or working abroad.

𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Aquarius in the 10th house, your career is driven by a desire for innovation, progress, and making a collective impact. Ruled by Saturn, Aquarius gives you the determination to challenge norms while maintaining discipline and long-term focus. You seek careers that allow you to express individuality and contribute to societal advancement, often in fields like technology, social change, or science. You thrive in roles that let you introduce fresh, forward-thinking ideas and revolutionize outdated systems. Saturn’s influence ensures that, despite your progressive mindset, you approach your career strategically, building success over time. Your blend of vision and discipline enables you to leave a lasting mark in your field.

Saturn through the Houses:

Saturn in the 1st House: Your career is closely tied to your identity, and you're seen as a responsible, visionary leader. You may work in fields that promote innovation or social reform, with a strong sense of independence in carving your own path.

Saturn in the 2nd House: Your career may involve managing finances or resources with a progressive mindset, possibly in technology or sustainability. You approach wealth-building cautiously, with an eye on long-term stability and community-focused projects.

Saturn in the 3rd House: Communication, technology, and intellectual exchange are central to your career. You may work in areas such as digital media, education, or tech startups, where your forward-thinking ideas can thrive. Your disciplined approach helps you stay ahead of trends.

Saturn in the 4th House: Your career could involve real estate, social housing, or projects aimed at improving community living standards. You may be drawn to futuristic housing concepts, urban planning, or ecological development, creating new models for sustainable living.

Saturn in the 5th House: Your creativity is structured, and you may work in innovative fields such as technology, entertainment, or education reform. You bring discipline to creative projects, working on long-term goals that push boundaries in media, teaching, or speculative industries.

Saturn in the 6th House: Your career may involve service, health tech, or innovative ways of improving work environments and systems. You thrive in positions where you can modernize old systems and improve efficiency, bringing a visionary approach to everyday problem-solving.

Saturn in the 7th House: Partnerships are crucial to your career, and you may work in law, consulting, or tech industries. Your professional relationships will likely take time to develop, but they will be built on mutual respect and a shared vision for the future.

Saturn in the 8th House: You could be involved in research, finance, technology related to transformation (like AI or biotechnology), or areas dealing with the hidden or taboo. Success may come after overcoming significant obstacles in deeply transformative fields.

Saturn in the 9th House: Higher education, technology, or international work may define your career. You may find success in spreading progressive ideas, possibly in academia, publishing, or humanitarian work, with a focus on future-oriented reforms.

Saturn in the 10th House: Your career is focused on innovative fields like technology, social reform, or large organizations that influence societal structures. You work towards leadership roles, contributing to systems that will benefit humanity over the long term.

Saturn in the 11th House: Your career involves large organizations, social causes, or the tech industry. You work well in teams and networks, building lasting professional connections. Your long-term vision aligns with solving global issues like inequality or environmental challenges.

Saturn in the 12th House: You may work in isolated or behind-the-scenes roles, such as research, technology development, or humanitarian work in foreign lands. Your career may focus on spirituality, healing, or hidden aspects of society, with a focus on advancing collective progress through quiet, yet impactful, contributions.

𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Pisces in the 10th house, your career is influenced by the expansive, philosophical energy of Jupiter, Pisces' traditional ruler. Pisces in the 10th house brings a fluid, creative, and intuitive approach to your professional life, guiding you toward fields that allow for compassion, creativity, and emotional expression. You may be drawn to careers in art, music, spirituality, healing, or social services. With Pisces, your career path is likely to be non-linear, seeking fulfillment through helping others and tapping into your emotional and spiritual sides. Jupiter's influence encourages growth through wisdom and knowledge, but you may need to guard against idealism or a lack of focus.

Jupiter through the Houses:

Jupiter in the 1st House: Your career is closely tied to your identity, with a focus on guiding or teaching others. You may work in fields like coaching, teaching, or spiritual guidance, where your expansive nature shines.

Jupiter in the 2nd House: Wealth management or creative fields such as art or media may define your career. You seek financial security through emotionally fulfilling work.

Jupiter in the 3rd House: Careers in communication, education, or media are highlighted. You may excel in writing, teaching, or creative expression that inspires others.

Jupiter in the 4th House: Your career could involve home, real estate, or nurturing roles, such as counseling, social work, or helping others find emotional security.

Jupiter in the 5th House: Creativity, teaching, or working with children may define your path. You are drawn to self-expression and growth, particularly through the arts or education.

Jupiter in the 6th House: Service-oriented careers, especially in health or healing, are key. You bring a compassionate touch to work in holistic medicine, counseling, or social services.

Jupiter in the 7th House: Partnerships are central to your career. You may thrive in law, diplomacy, or client-oriented professions, finding success through collaboration.

Jupiter in the 8th House: Careers in finance, psychology, or deep emotional work are appealing. You may excel in fields involving transformation, research, or healing.

Jupiter in the 9th House: Travel, education, or spiritual work may define your career. You are a natural teacher or guide, and your work might involve spreading wisdom across cultures.

Jupiter in the 10th House: Your career focuses on helping others and contributing to the greater good. Fields like teaching, philosophy, or creative arts align with your ideals and values.

Jupiter in the 11th House: Your career involves working with groups or organizations focused on social causes. You may find success in humanitarian work or fields that positively impact society.

Jupiter in the 12th House: You may work behind the scenes in healing, research, or spiritual professions, drawn to deep emotional or psychological exploration in fields like hospitals or institutions.

𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Aries in the 10th house, your career is fueled by the assertive and bold energy of Mars, Aries' ruling planet. This placement makes you naturally ambitious, courageous, and eager to take action in your professional life. You’re driven to lead, often preferring positions where you can make independent decisions and move quickly. You're not one to shy away from challenges and thrive in roles that allow you to assert your authority and pursue your goals with determination. Mars gives your career a pioneering spirit, helping you excel in fast-paced environments where quick thinking is essential. However, learning to manage impulsiveness is key to achieving lasting, long-term success.

Mars through the Houses:

Mars in the 1st House: Your career is a reflection of who you are, and you tackle it with confidence and drive. Leadership roles come naturally to you, and you thrive in competitive, high-energy fields where you can take charge.

Mars in the 2nd House: You may find yourself working in finance, resource management, or building material wealth, approaching these areas with assertiveness. You're focused on achieving financial security, often through bold business ventures or entrepreneurial paths.

Mars in the 3rd House: Careers in communication, tech, or marketing may appeal to you. You bring energy and confidence to your work, excelling in roles that require quick thinking, writing, or public speaking.

Mars in the 4th House: Your career could be connected to real estate, construction, or home-related fields. You approach your work with vigor, though balancing your personal and professional life may present challenges.

Mars in the 5th House: Creative pursuits, sports, or speculative ventures may shape your career. You bring passion and a bold energy to leadership, teaching, or entertainment roles.

Mars in the 6th House: You may work in service, health, or roles that require solving problems and resolving conflicts. You excel in demanding positions, thriving on hard work and resilience.

Mars in the 7th House: Partnerships are vital to your career success, though they may be competitive or dynamic. Roles in law, negotiation, or client services suit you, where boldness and directness are assets.

Mars in the 8th House: Careers in finance, research, or transformative fields like psychology or crisis management appeal to you. You bring intensity and thrive in high-stakes environments.

Mars in the 9th House: Your career could involve travel, education, or law, with an emphasis on exploring new ideas. You're passionate about expanding horizons, for both yourself and others.

Mars in the 10th House: Leadership comes easily to you, and you're highly focused on your career. Assertiveness and independence help you rise to the top through determination and a proactive mindset.

Mars in the 11th House: Your career may revolve around social causes, working with groups, or innovative fields like technology. You're driven to create change on a broad scale, bringing energy and passion to collaborative projects.

Mars in the 12th House: You may find fulfillment in behind-the-scenes or isolated roles, such as in hospitals, prisons, or research. You're drawn to careers that require strategic thinking and inner strength, often in healing or spiritual work.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Taurus in the 10th house, your career is guided by Venus, the ruler of Taurus, bringing a focus on stability, beauty, and financial security. You are naturally drawn to professions that offer consistency and allow you to build something long-lasting rather than chasing short-term success. With Taurus in the 10th house, you're inclined toward careers in art, design, real estate, finance, or any field that provides material comfort and aesthetic satisfaction. Venus’ influence gives you a polished and graceful professional image, making you appear charming and diplomatic in the workplace, which helps you navigate your career with ease. Your Leo rising adds leadership qualities, and combined with Venus' refinement, you’re suited for roles of authority in creative or luxury-related fields.

Venus through the Houses:

Venus in the 1st House: Your charm and elegance strongly contribute to your professional success. You come across as a natural leader with a refined presence, excelling in careers that showcase beauty, creativity, or harmony.

Venus in the 2nd House: You may work in finance, banking, or industries focused on material wealth. You have a natural talent for accumulating resources and thrive in fields that provide financial stability.

Venus in the 3rd House: Your career could revolve around communication, writing, or media. You might work in advertising, marketing, or teaching, where your creativity and diplomacy are key strengths.

Venus in the 4th House: Real estate, interior design, or careers related to home and comfort may be your path. You have a talent for creating harmonious spaces and excel in fields that enhance living environments.

Venus in the 5th House: Creative pursuits, entertainment, or education could define your career. You are passionate about self-expression and may find success in the arts, theater, or roles involving children.

Venus in the 6th House: You may work in service, wellness, or healthcare, focusing on improving others’ quality of life. You bring a peaceful approach to the workplace, excelling in roles that involve helping others.

Venus in the 7th House: Partnerships play a crucial role in your career success. You may work in law, counseling, or client-oriented professions, where negotiation and diplomacy are essential.

Venus in the 8th House: Careers involving finance, shared resources, or transformation appeal to you. You may excel in managing other people’s money or working in fields like psychology or counseling.

Venus in the 9th House: Higher education, travel, or law could play a significant role in your career. You may succeed in areas that involve cultural exchange, teaching, or spreading knowledge with diplomacy.

Venus in the 10th House: Your career revolves around creating beauty and harmony. You are likely drawn to design, art, or luxury-related fields, focusing on stability and material success.

Venus in the 11th House: You may work with groups, social causes, or in the arts. Collaborative environments that value creativity suit you, and you enjoy social recognition for your contributions.

Venus in the 12th House: You may be drawn to careers in spirituality, healing, or behind-the-scenes work. You find fulfillment in helping others, potentially through art therapy, retreat centers, or charitable organizations.

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Gemini in the 10th house, your career is shaped by Mercury, the ruler of both Gemini and Virgo. Gemini in the 10th house brings adaptability, communication skills, and intellectual curiosity to your professional life. You are drawn to roles that require versatility, such as writing, teaching, marketing, or any field where communication is key. With Mercury as your 10th house ruler, you excel in processing and sharing information, networking, and working in dynamic environments that challenge your mind. Your career path is likely to involve change, travel, or multitasking, as you enjoy variety and mental stimulation in your work.

Mercury through the Houses:

Mercury in the 1st House: Your career is closely tied to your personal identity, and you are seen as articulate and quick-thinking. You may thrive in roles that involve public speaking, writing, or any profession that lets you express your intellect.

Mercury in the 2nd House: Your career may focus on finance, resource management, or sales. You have a talent for handling money and may work in fields that involve communication, such as negotiations or teaching.

Mercury in the 3rd House: Media, technology, or communication are central to your career. You excel in multitasking roles like journalism, marketing, or PR, where your ability to convey information clearly is essential.

Mercury in the 4th House: Your career may involve real estate, education, or working from home. You use your intellect to create a secure and stable professional environment.

Mercury in the 5th House: Creative fields like writing, teaching, or entertainment could define your career. You are skilled at expressing ideas, especially in roles involving children, content creation, or education.

Mercury in the 6th House: Your career may involve health, service, or administrative work. You bring a practical and organized approach to your job, excelling in professions that require detailed communication and problem-solving.

Mercury in the 7th House: Partnerships are crucial to your career, and you may work in law, consulting, or client-based roles where negotiation and communication are key.

Mercury in the 8th House: Your career may involve finance, research, or uncovering hidden truths. You’re drawn to roles in psychology, investigative journalism, or finance, where deep analysis is required.

Mercury in the 9th House: Higher education, travel, or teaching may define your career. You enjoy sharing knowledge, and you may work in academia, publishing, or international fields.

Mercury in the 10th House: Communication is key to your career success. You likely work in fields like media, business, or teaching, using your intellectual abilities to influence and inform others.

Mercury in the 11th House: Your career involves working with groups, social causes, or technology. You thrive in collaborative environments and may work in innovation, community outreach, or tech-driven fields.

Mercury in the 12th House: You may work behind the scenes in research, healing, or spiritual fields. You are drawn to introspective roles that require deep understanding and investigation.

𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Cancer in the 10th house, your career is guided by the nurturing and emotional energy of the Moon, Cancer’s ruler. Cancer in the 10th house makes you empathetic and focused on providing emotional support and security in your professional life. You're drawn to roles where caring for others or creating a supportive environment is key. Fields like healthcare, hospitality, education, social work, or real estate may appeal to you. The Moon’s influence adds sensitivity and adaptability to your career path, meaning your professional choices may fluctuate depending on your emotional state or personal life needs. In your career, you are often known for your ability to connect with others on a deep emotional level, offering compassion and understanding in your work.

Moon through the Houses:

Moon in the 1st House: Your career plays a major role in your identity, and you’re seen as nurturing and empathetic. You gravitate toward leadership roles in fields like healthcare, counseling, or education, where caring for others is essential.

Moon in the 2nd House: Your career may involve managing resources that provide emotional security, such as finances, food, or hospitality. You’re likely drawn to roles that offer comfort and care, like banking or hotel management.

Moon in the 3rd House: Communication and community are central to your career. Writing, teaching, or media work are likely, allowing you to express emotional insight and connect with others through your words.

Moon in the 4th House: Careers related to homes, families, or real estate are likely. You might work in home design or real estate, focusing on creating emotional security and comfort for others.

Moon in the 5th House: Teaching, creative fields, or working with children could define your career. You enjoy nurturing others’ growth and could find success in art, education, or children’s services.

Moon in the 6th House: Service-oriented careers, especially in health or caregiving, appeal to you. You thrive in roles where you can help others, such as nursing, social work, or holistic health, bringing emotional insight to problem-solving.

Moon in the 7th House: Partnerships are key to your career success. You may work in counseling, consulting, or any field requiring strong one-on-one relationships, where your emotional sensitivity builds supportive connections.

Moon in the 8th House: Your career might involve finance, psychology, or transformative work. You’re drawn to deep emotional work like therapy or crisis management, helping others through transitions or managing shared resources.

Moon in the 9th House: Higher education, travel, or spiritual work could define your career. Teaching, publishing, or work involving exploration and emotional growth may provide fulfillment.

Moon in the 10th House: You're known for your caring, compassionate nature in your career, excelling in roles such as healthcare, education, or social services. Emotional intelligence and connection are key to your professional success.

Moon in the 11th House: Your career may involve working with groups, social causes, or community organizations. Collaborative environments where you can support others emotionally and contribute to social well-being suit you well.

Moon in the 12th House: You may be drawn to careers in healing, spirituality, or working in isolated environments like hospitals. Your emotional depth helps you assist others through challenging situations, often behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Leo in the 10th house, your career path is guided by the bold and radiant energy of the Sun, which rules Leo. Having Leo in the 10th house makes you ambitious, confident, and determined to gain recognition and authority in your profession. You naturally seek to stand out and gravitate towards leadership roles where you can shine and motivate those around you. With the Sun governing your 10th house, you're driven to create a reputation rooted in personal integrity, creativity, and influence. You’ll likely be drawn to careers in management, politics, entertainment, or any field that allows you to showcase your individuality and gain public attention. Your success lies in embracing your strength, leadership qualities, and desire to make a lasting impact in your field.

Sun through the Houses:

Sun in the 1st House: Your career is deeply tied to your identity, and you naturally take on leadership roles. You project confidence and authority, making you a natural in professions where your personal presence leaves a strong impression.

Sun in the 2nd House: You might pursue careers in finance, luxury goods, or fields that involve wealth and status. Building financial security is important to you, and you take pride in positions that enhance your public image and bring material success.

Sun in the 3rd House: Communication, media, or education plays a key role in your career. You excel in positions where you can share ideas, inspire others, and creatively express yourself through writing, teaching, or public speaking.

Sun in the 4th House: Your career could be related to real estate, family businesses, or work that focuses on the home and community. You take pride in building a solid foundation and may find success in areas tied to property or caregiving.

Sun in the 5th House: Creative fields, entertainment, or leadership in educational initiatives might shape your career. You thrive in roles where you can express your creativity and assume leadership, and you may be drawn to work involving children or artistic ventures.

Sun in the 6th House: Your career may revolve around service, health, or administrative duties. You’re skilled at managing teams and improving work environments, and you take pride in contributing to the well-being of others.

Sun in the 7th House: Partnerships are key to your career success. You might work in law, counseling, or client-based services, excelling in roles that require collaboration and negotiation, where your leadership skills and ability to inspire shine.

Sun in the 8th House: Your career may involve finance, psychology, or fields related to transformation and shared resources. You’re drawn to deep, transformative work, helping others through significant transitions or exploring hidden aspects of life.

Sun in the 9th House: Higher education, travel, or philosophical pursuits may define your career. You’re driven to share knowledge and inspire others through teaching, publishing, or roles that broaden perspectives and encourage personal growth.

Sun in the 10th House: Your career and reputation are central to your focus, and you’re naturally inclined toward leadership. Recognition and success come easily to you as you rise to the top of your field through your confidence, determination, and ability to motivate others.

Sun in the 11th House: Your career could involve working with large organizations, social networks, or groups working toward shared goals. You excel in collaborative environments, leading teams toward a common vision for the future.

Sun in the 12th House: You may be drawn to careers involving spirituality, healing, or behind-the-scenes work. Your success comes through helping others in quiet, meaningful ways, often through introspective or spiritual practices.

𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Virgo in the 10th house, your career is shaped by the practical and analytical nature of Mercury, Virgo's ruler. Virgo in the 10th house makes you detail-focused, precise, and committed to excellence in your professional life. You are naturally drawn to careers that emphasize organization, problem-solving, and intellectual engagement, which could include fields like healthcare, research, education, writing, or administration. With Mercury guiding your 10th house, you bring a methodical and logical mindset to your work, excelling in roles that require clear communication, sharp analysis, and the ability to juggle multiple tasks. Adaptable and always striving for improvement, you're consistently seeking to refine your skills and streamline processes in your career.

Mercury through the Houses:

Mercury in the 1st House: Your career is tied to your personal identity, and you're known for your intellectual and communicative abilities. You thrive in roles requiring quick thinking, adaptability, and effective communication.

Mercury in the 2nd House: Your career may involve finance, resource management, or business. Your talent for managing money and your analytical mindset help you excel in creating financial security and stability.

Mercury in the 3rd House: Careers in communication, teaching, or media are likely. You're drawn to roles involving sharing information, public speaking, or intellectual exchange, where you can express your ideas and knowledge.

Mercury in the 4th House: Your career could involve real estate, property management, or home-based work. You approach family business or nurturing environments with organization and analysis.

Mercury in the 5th House: You combine creativity and intellect in your career, possibly through teaching, entertainment, or creative writing. You succeed in roles that allow you to express yourself while using your mind.

Mercury in the 6th House: Your career may focus on healthcare, service, or administrative roles. You're diligent, organized, and excel in jobs that require problem-solving and communication in practical environments.

Mercury in the 7th House: Partnerships play a key role in your career, and you may work in law, consulting, or client relations. Your communication skills help you succeed in negotiation and collaboration.

Mercury in the 8th House: You may pursue careers in finance, research, or fields dealing with transformation and complex information. Your analytical nature suits roles involving shared resources, psychology, or deep investigations.

Mercury in the 9th House: Higher education, travel, or publishing could define your career. You're intellectually curious and thrive in roles that allow you to explore and share knowledge, particularly through teaching or writing.

Mercury in the 10th House: Communication and intellectual pursuits are central to your career. You may work in teaching, writing, research, or business, where managing and conveying information is crucial to your success.

Mercury in the 11th House: Your career might involve working with groups, networks, or technology. You excel in collaborative settings, creating innovative ideas and solutions that benefit a collective or community.

Mercury in the 12th House: You may be drawn to careers behind the scenes or in areas like research, spirituality, or healing. You excel in introspective roles requiring a deep understanding of the unseen or spiritual aspects of life.

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Libra in the 10th house, your career is shaped by the harmonious and balanced energy of Venus, Libra's ruler. Libra in the 10th house draws you toward professions that emphasize diplomacy, aesthetics, partnerships, or justice. You value balance and harmony in your professional life and are likely to excel in roles requiring negotiation, creativity, or building strong relationships. With Venus ruling your 10th house, careers in law, design, the arts, diplomacy, or public relations may be especially appealing. You are known for your refined approach to your career, always striving to create beauty and fairness in your work. Success comes when you balance professional ambitions with a desire for collaboration and maintaining harmony in your work environment.

Venus through the Houses:

Venus in the 1st House: Personal charm and diplomacy are central to your career success. You are a natural leader, excelling in roles involving public speaking, leadership, or design, where you harmonize diverse perspectives.

Venus in the 2nd House: Your career may focus on finance, luxury goods, or industries connected to beauty and comfort. You are adept at building wealth and creating value, particularly in areas associated with material success.

Venus in the 3rd House: Communication, media, or writing plays a key role in your career. You bring creativity and diplomacy to your work, excelling in advertising, marketing, or teaching, where your charm and intellect are highly valued.

Venus in the 4th House: Your career could involve real estate, interior design, or family-related fields. You are skilled at creating harmonious environments and may find success in roles related to property or nurturing spaces.

Venus in the 5th House: Creative fields, entertainment, or speculative ventures may shape your career. You thrive in artistic roles and enjoy professions involving the arts, teaching, or anything that allows self-expression.

Venus in the 6th House: Your career may focus on service, wellness, or healthcare, where you bring balance and harmony to your work environment. You excel in roles that value teamwork and cooperation.

Venus in the 7th House: Partnerships are key to your career success. You are drawn to law, consulting, or client-focused roles, where your diplomacy and ability to build strong relationships are critical.

Venus in the 8th House: Your career may involve finance, psychology, or transformative fields. You are skilled at managing shared resources and thrive in careers related to finance, counseling, or crisis management with a calm, balanced approach.

Venus in the 9th House: Higher education, law, travel, or philosophy could define your career. You seek roles involving the spread of knowledge or the pursuit of fairness, finding fulfillment in teaching, publishing, or diplomacy.

Venus in the 10th House: Aesthetics, balance, and diplomacy shape your career. You may work in creative fields, law, or public relations, where maintaining harmony and bringing beauty to your professional life leads to success.

Venus in the 11th House: Your career may involve working with groups, social causes, or organizations aimed at improving fairness or beauty in society. You excel in collaborative settings and may find success in networking or social movements.

Venus in the 12th House: You may be drawn to careers in spirituality, healing, or behind-the-scenes roles. You find fulfillment in helping others, working in art therapy, charitable organizations, or introspective and compassionate roles.

𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Scorpio in the 10th house, your career is shaped by the intense and transformative energy of Mars, Scorpio's ruler. Scorpio in the 10th house makes you fiercely ambitious, driven, and deeply focused on achieving success. You’re drawn to professions that involve transformation, research, and control, excelling in areas like psychology, finance, investigation, or any field requiring depth and resilience. With Mars ruling your 10th house, you bring passion, determination, and a strategic mindset to your professional life. You often thrive in high-pressure environments, where your focus and resilience allow you to rise from challenges with renewed strength and a clear sense of purpose. Your career path may involve moments of profound growth and transformation, but you’re equipped to handle the intensity with grace and power.

Mars through the Houses:

Mars in the 1st House: You are highly ambitious and driven, often assuming leadership roles. Assertiveness and a strong personal presence define your career, and you are likely to forge your own path toward success.

Mars in the 2nd House: Your career may center on finance, resource management, or industries where material stability is key. You approach money with intensity, determined to build wealth through strategic action and perseverance.

Mars in the 3rd House: Communication, technology, or investigative work may be pivotal in your career. You are excellent at uncovering information and thrive in fast-paced fields requiring quick thinking and decisive action, such as journalism or research.

Mars in the 4th House: Your career could involve real estate, property management, or creating stability through transformation in home settings. You bring determination and strategy to fields related to domestic security or family businesses.

Mars in the 5th House: Creative fields, leadership in education, or speculative ventures may define your career. You are bold in pursuing self-expression and may take calculated risks to achieve success in artistic or entrepreneurial ventures.

Mars in the 6th House: Healthcare, service, or conflict resolution may define your career. You are driven to solve problems, excelling in demanding environments where your resilience and strategic thinking allow you to overcome challenges.

Mars in the 7th House: Partnerships and collaboration play a critical role in your career, though these relationships may be intense or competitive. You may work in law, consulting, or negotiation, excelling in high-stakes decision-making.

Mars in the 8th House: Finance, research, or transformative fields may be central to your career. You are drawn to managing resources, uncovering hidden truths, or helping others through crises, thriving in roles such as psychology or forensic science.

Mars in the 9th House: Higher education, law, or travel may shape your career. You’re driven to explore and push boundaries, finding success in fields like philosophy, international relations, or academic research.

Mars in the 10th House: Highly career-focused, you are likely to rise to leadership positions through determination and intensity. You thrive in competitive fields, excelling in areas like strategy, crisis management, or transformation.

Mars in the 11th House: Your career may involve working with large organizations, technology, or social reform. You’re driven to create wide-scale change and may find success in collaborative projects focused on innovation or social movements.

Mars in the 12th House: Careers in spirituality, healing, or working behind the scenes in research or psychology may attract you. Your success may come from helping others through crises in environments requiring emotional depth and discretion.

𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Sagittarius in the 10th house, your career is shaped by the expansive and philosophical energy of Jupiter, the ruler of Sagittarius. Sagittarius in the 10th house makes you idealistic, purpose-driven, and eager to explore new horizons in your professional life. You are drawn to careers involving teaching, travel, spirituality, law, or higher education—anything that allows you to share knowledge and wisdom. With Jupiter as your 10th house ruler, you possess optimism and a broad vision for your career, often aiming for roles where you can make a meaningful impact. Your professional path is typically marked by growth through learning and sharing wisdom, and you are known for inspiring and leading with moral or philosophical direction.

Jupiter through the Houses:

Jupiter in the 1st House: Your career is closely connected to your identity. You are seen as a wise, expansive figure and likely to pursue leadership roles in teaching, spirituality, or counseling, guiding and inspiring others.

Jupiter in the 2nd House: Your career may involve finance, education, or managing resources tied to knowledge. You excel in fields like law or publishing, where moral values and a sense of justice are key to success.

Jupiter in the 3rd House: Communication, education, or media could be central to your career. You thrive in teaching, writing, or public speaking, using your intellectual curiosity and broad-minded approach to inspire others.

Jupiter in the 4th House: Your career may involve real estate, home-related industries, or family businesses. You aim to create emotional security through your work, perhaps in roles that nurture or support stability for others.

Jupiter in the 5th House: Creative fields, teaching, or working with children may define your career. You are passionate about self-expression and education, excelling in roles that allow you to inspire younger generations or pursue speculative ventures.

Jupiter in the 6th House: Your career may focus on service, healthcare, or wellness. You bring optimism and a broad outlook to work environments centered on helping others, finding success in professions that promote well-being.

Jupiter in the 7th House: Partnerships are crucial to your career success. You may work in law, consulting, or client-focused fields, where your sense of justice and wisdom enhances your effectiveness in negotiation or counseling.

Jupiter in the 8th House: Your career could involve finance, psychology, or transformative industries. You are drawn to work requiring deep emotional or intellectual insight, such as managing shared resources or guiding others through life transitions.

Jupiter in the 9th House: Higher education, travel, or philosophy may shape your career. You are driven to share knowledge on a global scale and may succeed in teaching, publishing, or law, spreading your ideals and vision widely.

Jupiter in the 10th House: Your career revolves around teaching, leading, or sharing wisdom. Fields such as education, law, or religion suit you well, where your ability to inspire and promote justice leads to career success.

Jupiter in the 11th House: Your career may involve working with groups, large organizations, or social causes. You are driven by the desire to improve the world, finding success in humanitarian work, community efforts, or technology-driven innovations.

Jupiter in the 12th House: You may be drawn to careers in spirituality, healing, or working in secluded environments like hospitals or retreat centers. Your path involves helping others with wisdom and compassion, often in quiet, behind-the-scenes roles.

Masterlist - YouTube (subliminals)

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millersfinest · 4 months ago

Text

untethered | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 7.4k

series: chapter one (you’re here!), chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: lmao flip phones, some vulgar language, ellie cheating on her gf (kind of), the millers, r is a writer, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, some physical violence, adopted kid trauma (shoutout to all the adopted kids!!), hella angst, repressed emotions, a little bit of mature content, eventual smut.

note: i have too much confidence writing for ellie. but here’s another series im starting because i realized the plot is too much for a single work on here, hence the 7 thousand words ijbol. hope you guys enjoyyy.

It was quieter upstate. Breathable and airy—you missed it more than anything. As much as you loved living in Manhattan, there was nothing like the countryside. Waking up to the sound of birds chirping and roosters crowing. Hearing the excited neighing from the horses you birthed and took care of. It was refreshing to be home again.

And, of course, you missed your parents.

They adopted you as a troubled child, and you’ve considered yourself lucky ever since. Babies and younger children were often the ones to be pulled from inconsistent foster homes, but they chose you. A pierced, attitude-ridden, thirteen-year-old who liked smoking cigarettes because they made you look cooler than you felt. And it helped you cope with the lasting effects of neglectful parents.

That trauma didn’t just disappear once Tommy and Maria entered your life. It was something that grew from nothing, and they were adamant in making your transition as comfortable as possible. You never experienced anything like it before them. Their strictness and structure did the opposite of what most would think. You went from sneaking out and smoking cigarettes to staying up late studying and finishing your favorite novels—still smoking cigarettes, though, but out your window. It was hard habit to break.

Once you realized that they could be trusted and had your best interest at heart, you gave them the right to parent you. Sure, it wasn’t easy. The three of you argued many, many times—but you respected them more than you have anyone else. Really, just for tolerating you.

The Miller’s were always very family oriented and social. Sunday nights always managed to be a grand event—Tommy grilling in the acred backyard, Maria handling the food items that could be cooked inside, and you diligently decorating and setting the table. Football Sundays were always the worst, but they were great memories to think about. That was the first time you met, basically, the love of your life at the time. Ellie Williams.

It was 1995 when you had completely fallen in love with her—only knowing her for around three years. Joel Miller wasn’t really her father, or adoptive father, he was just somebody who took care of her. He owned a guitar shop that sold, obviously, guitars and other instruments alike; as well as holding lessons for those wanted to learn how to play.

The story goes: Joel was working the register on a very slow day when Ellie showed up. There was a shiner on her eye, but she insisted that she was fine—asking for lessons with crumbled cash and dirty coins. She couldn’t afford the lessons on her own, so he gave her a job and proceeded with teaching her how to play.

She grew up similar to you; hidden under the confines of foster care. The only difference was, she was never adopted. At least not until the age of seventeen, when she’d spent so much time with Joel that she had a decorated bedroom in his house. They both had commitment issues, but after Tommy convinced him to do the paperwork… He did. Surprising her on her seventeenth birthday. However, the outcome didn’t really go to plan. Not how anyone would have expected it.

It was 1997 when she completely broke your heart… Not to be cheesy or anything.

Her seventeenth birthday was hosted at your house, on the farm. You knew her the most out of everyone, so you made it your mission to make this the best birthday ever. Decorating had become a hobby of yours after so many Sunday dinners—you spent all day stringing up lights and colorful streamers. Maria helping you out with a homemade cake that said: Happy Birthday Els! You were too anxious to write the words yourself, so you let her do it instead. You were even sure to invite the friends you shared; demanding they each brought presents to show how much they cared about her.

Joel had showed up before she did; just in time so they could all hide and jump out with big smiles on your faces when Ellie arrived. You would always remember the feeling of hearing the rumbling of her truck coming to a stop. And the shy smile on her face when everyone jumped out from behind furniture—blowing birthday kazoo’s. It was picturesque!

Dina had trotted over to her, snapping a blue paper cone birthday hat over her head. While you walked over with her birthday cake in your hands, brightened with seventeen candles. “Happy seventeenth, Ellie.” You had spoken, warmly. A bashful grin spreading onto your lips. She looked at you with such awe in that moment. Blowing out her candles and kissing your cheek, muttering a blushing ‘I fuckin’ love you’.

You knew about her surprise adoption papers before the party had started, excitement running through your veins when Joel meandered toward her—handing her an envelope of hope. Ellie took it, eyeing him, skeptically. “Open it!” You urged—that was your mistake.

Chortling, she broke open the envelope, not caring if it tore. When she pulled out the certificate, reading the words on the page, her entire face dropped. “Adoption papers?” Her eyes squinted in disgust, glaring at Joel. The smile fell from your face, lips parting in slight shock. Her olive eyes glanced around the room, seeing the fallen expressions clouding everyone’s features. Landing on your fallen face, briefly—a look exclaiming, ‘how could you’. Freckled cheeks heating up in embarrassment and… Anger. “Joel, what the fuck?” She blinked at him, shoving the papers into his chest, then storming out of the house. Hands ripping the hat from the top of head, throwing it to the ground. The screen door creaking obnoxiously as she exited. It all happened so fast.

He quickly followed her out, calling for her, desperately.

Awkwardly, you turned to the frozen people around you. “Anybody want cake? It’s german c— chocolate.” You stammered, trying to keep your composure. Looking to Maria and Tommy for some sort of consolation, you frowned, placing the cake on the counter before fleeing to the bathroom.

You clenched at the roots of your hair, pacing around the bathroom. You could hear remnants of a solo screaming match from outside the bathroom window, causing you to grit your teeth. The papers were supposed to be a good thing! Ellie had always been a hothead—easily agitated like a stray kitten is distress. There were even moments where the two of you went at it. Until one of you caved, begging for affection as an apology. Your nerves burned at the idea of her not liking the surprise—was that selfish?

Instead of remaining in the bathroom, you swung open the door with your eyes fixed on the front door. Hands clenched at your sides, you walked through the kitchen, where Tommy tried to liven up the mood by handing out pieces of cake.

He tried calling your name, but you brushed him off, pushing open the screen door with an attitude that could be felt with every step you took. The brisk autumn air hit your exposed skin, the long-sleeve striped shirt not doing much to keep you warm.

Striding around the side of the house, you seen Joel and Ellie having a stern conversation. But by the time your eyes landed on them, they were in a beat of silence. Joel shaking his head with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Ellie had her arms stubbornly crossed, frowning. When her eyes found yours, he turned around to leave. “She’s all yours…” He solemnly sighed, walking back into the house. The adoption papers crumbled up in his hands.

Biting your bottom lip, you approached her with your arms crossed for warmth. “What happened, Ellie?” Your voice dragged, tiredly. There was something always wrong with her. “We just wanted to do something nice for you… Why’d you have to go and ruin it—?”

“Oh, I’m the one who ruined it?” She scoffed, a sneer resting on her lips. “I’m not the one who brought the fucking adoption papers!” Ellie exclaimed, gesturing broadly with her hands. When she was up in arms, she always gesticulated more. “Did you have anything to do with this? Because if you did—“

You interrupted her with scrutinizing glare. “So, what if I did? I thought this would make you happy, Ellie… Don’t you understand?”

“You had me open that in front of everyone knowing what was inside— and you thought that’d make me happy?” Her lips arched in disgust. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all.” Her words were venomous, lips twitching in anger.

There was nobody who understood you more than Ellie, and vice versa. You just got each other because you came from similar backgrounds—that was your glue. You don’t know me at all. That was new.

With your eyes growing warm with tears, your tongue rolled in your mouth. “I spent all day setting this up… For you. Because I love you, Ellie. I don’t know you— that’s bullshit if I ever heard it.” Your voice cracked, but you refused to let a tear run down your cheek. This was no time for tears—if she could get angry, so could you.

“I’ve known you long enough to have some semblance of understanding on why you’re upset, right now— that’s for damn sure.” You paused, averting your eyes to concentrate on keeping your rising emotions at bay. She watched you, cheeks still red with anger. “I’m gonna give you ten minutes— ten, Ellie! If you don’t get your ass back in there in next ten fucking minutes…” You lick your lips, shaking your head. “We’re over. Done!”

Giving a final glare, you turned to head back inside. “I can’t keep dealing with this shit.” You mutter, under your breath.

“So that’s what it is… Dealing with me?” Ellie voiced, a sliver of disappointment slipping in her moment of anger.

Wiping your cheeks, you peered over your shoulder. “What?”

“You got this perfect little life… Huh?” She began, approaching you intimidatingly. “The loving parents, the farmhouse— you became the perfect daughter for them… Gets the grades, does everything she can to appease them. This fuckin’ fantasy world that you chose to live in all because you wanted someone to love you… Fuckin’ pathetic.”

“Ellie…” You warned.

“Well, newsflash, little-miss-perfect— not everybody wants that! Not everybody wants to play pretend for the rest of their fucking life just to be—“

It happened before you could stop it, fists clenching at your sides as she bad mouthed you till oblivion. Your soft spot—and she knew all about that. Both of you grew up as kids who got into fights and disputes more times than anyone could count; you just decided to clean up your act. However, that troubled twelve to thirteen-year-old still resided inside of you. And, in that moment, she wasn’t your doting girlfriend—she was someone punching down on you.

Your knuckles collided with the side of her face, knocking into her cheek bone. Features scowling as if she were a stranger. Ellie stumbled, holding onto her face with surprised eyes. For a second the version of her you loved came through, but she quickly recovered. Her lips curling at the ends, taunting you. “I knew you still had it in you… You’re no better than me.”

There it was.

Not only was it the straw that broke the camels back—it was the truth. The ultimate truth. Behind all of your petty little arguments. Behind all her wild bursts of anger. She was jealous of you. Grunting behind your teeth, you charged at her. Taking the collar of her jacket as her back hit the gravelly ground. Straddling her, you didn’t hear the rushing feet hitting the porch. You could feel her hands settling loosely on your calves, only angering you more. “I did the fucking work— nobody else but me!” Tears poured down your cheeks. “I am better than you. Because I fucking try—“

Arms pulled you off her body, wrapping around your abdomen. It was Tommy, questioning you in your ear, but you weren’t listening. “Everything went to shit because of you! Remember that!” Dina and Jesse rushed to her side, but she only sat up watching you get pulled back inside. They glared at your forced retreat—they were always more friends with her than they were with you.

Tommy released you, with a disappointed sigh. Maria walking inside, shutting the door behind her, frowning. You heaved, looking at all the decorations that mocked you. Sparkling and shining against the dim lights in the room. The barely eaten cake sat on the counter in the kitchen making fun of you—it was all too much.

“What the hell has gotten into you, y/n?!” Maria pointedly, asked. Not really wanting a response.

“What’s gotten into me?! What’s gotten into her—!” You pointed to the door as if she replaced it.

The blond man leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, bending at his hips. “Well, I don’t think it matters what’s gotten into her if you put your hands on her, Bug.” Tommy spoke, evenly. He was always the calmer of the two. “Did you… Did you put your hands on her?”

Maria stood with her hands on her hips. “What did we say about fighting—? And you don’t hit your girlfriend— you don’t hit the people that you care about!” She scolded, pointing her finger. “We raised you better than that…”

Your lips quivered, guilt setting in. “I didn’t mean to hit her! She wanted— she wanted me to… I swear!”

He glanced at his wife. “She wanted you to hit her?” Tommy deadpanned, pressing his lips into a line.

They both looked at you with separate expressions. Maria clearly overwhelmed with disappointment and utter disbelief. The same look she gave you when she caught you smoking cigarettes at the barn when you were fourteen—when you told her you quit. Tommy had an expression of pity, like he often did. That same look he gave when you had a meltdown at school when you first moved in with them.

More tears began to roll down your cheeks. “Maria… Tommy… She pushed me. Why would she do that? Why would she—“ You began to ramble, knees growing weak. Your strict mother-figure rushed to your side, catching you before you fell. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to— she was just being so mean.”

Sinking to the floor with you, her hands caressed your hair. Maria looked to Tommy, mouthing for him to go check on Ellie.

Outside, Ellie was dismissing the weary questions from her friends. She’d never seen you act in such an unruly way. Every time she came over, there wasn’t a hair that was out of place on your head. She was always the one acting out, swearing like a sailor. Sure, she knew about your smoking habit, but that was nothing.

Your girlfriend was envious of how everything was panning out for you—college was around the corner. You had an acceptance letter from your dream school, and without a doubt, you were leaving for the city. Leaving her behind to rot in the country. It wasn’t fair!

That adoption letter felt like pity. She wasn’t a fan of that feeling either.

As a bruise formed on her cheek, guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. Ellie had every intention on seeing the side of you that everyone talked about with a past tense that indicated warning. She needed to prove to herself that you weren’t the perfect person she saw you to be—but all that was left behind was remorse and a sore cheek.

She watched as Joel and Tommy stepped aside to talk. Their eyes glancing back and forth between the door and Ellie, as she leaned against her rusted red truck.

“I can’t believe she would do something like that… On your birthday?” Dina shook her head, with her arms crossed.

“It’s not like her…” Jesse narrowed his eyes at the auburn-haired girl. “What’d you do?”

Dina smacked his chest. “Jessie! She’s literally the victim here— domestic abuse!”

He sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes. “I’m not saying what she did was right.” Jessie began. “I’m saying that I know Ellie Williams, and I know how she is— she’s a pusher.”

The bruised seventeen-year-old scoffed.

“Yeah, I said it.” He stood tall, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You’re a pusher. Hell, you’re a professional pusher— you push people for a fucking living.” Dina glared at him, threatening to hit him again. “I mean, there was that one time… When we went into the city for that comic convention, and you completely obliterated Joel for worrying about you—“

The dark-haired, freckled teenager pushed her boyfriend out of the way taking his place. “We don’t have to relive that…”

Ellie rolled her tongue in her mouth. “Look, I know this is my fault…”

“Ellie… You’re the one with the bruise forming on your face.” She reached up, rubbing her cheek. Her wincing under her touch.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, squeezing her red eyes. “Yeah, and if it weren’t for me— for what I said… I wouldn’t have this fuckin’ bruise.” Ellie peered at where Joel and Tommy were speaking. They were wrapping up, giving brotherly hugs. “I am a pusher… And now my girlfriend hates me.” She pouted, tears welling up in her eyes. The blond Miller waved a hand at her, giving a tight-lipped smile that screamed I’m sorry. “I gotta go…” She pulled her keys from her pocket, getting into her truck.

That was the last full conversation the two of you had. Horrible, but the last. Everything in between then and the present was short and empty. Light conversations that only strangers and acquaintances shared. Letters here and there. It was a dispute that was so nuanced, for the first year after that, Joel barely said a word to you. Which bled into his relationship with Tommy. Maria tried to play middleman, but it didn’t work.

Perhaps, that was the reason you kept your distance. You didn’t want to continue to be the wedge that formed between two brothers. While you loved your parents, they were only a phone-call away. And, in the meantime, you could focus on growing in your career. Focusing on your book writing, instead.

You just wanted to forget about what happened when you were an emotionally undeveloped seventeen-year-old, but every time you seen her face—you remembered. So, avoiding Ellie Williams was a mission within itself.

A mission you were hoping you weren’t going to have to endure this year.

“You know,” Tommy began, sipping his fresh coffee. “Joel’s coming down from Jersey for the week.”

As you looked through the fridge, you snapped your head in his direction. “Is he now…?” You slowly question. Letting the fridge door shut on its own. The blonde woman to his right, sitting at the island counter, chuckled. Flipping through the interior design magazine you brought for her.

“And he’s picking up Ellie from the city.”

“What!” You exclaim, rushing to the opposite side of the counter. Pulling the mug from his lips, a surprised squeak left your throat. “Uh, dad… You forgot to mention on the several phone calls that we had in that last month that Ellie moved to the city.”

Maria perked up, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, she’s been there for about a year now… Brooklyn, is it?” She looked to her husband for clarification. He nodded, peering up at you with a plain expression.

“A year?! And none of you told me?”

“Bug, you did say that you didn’t want us to bring her up anymore unless you asked.” Maria stood to her feet, meandering to the stove and oven. “But that does remind me… They should be here in a few hours. Wanna help with the brownies?” She preheated the oven, walking around you casually.

Your mouth fell open, glancing between the two of them. “Okay, so they get brownies, and I get the worst news of my life…” An apron with your nickname embroidered on the front, Bug, hung in your mother's hand as an offering. “Yes, I’ll help with the brownies— this is very cruel to your very successful daughter.”

Tommy waved his hand, dismissively. “C’mon, that incident happened years ago now. You’re twenty-five, I’m sure she’s gotten over it.”

Tying the string around your neck and back, you pressed your lips into a line. It wasn’t really about her—you weren’t over it. You still harbored the same guilt you felt when you settled in your room that night. A crazy mixture of resentment and remorse all rolled up into one feeling; as you settled in your reading nook, with your hand out the window holding a burning cigarette with your index and middle finger. “I’m sure she has…”

Eventually, you switched the conversation around while baking. Falling into fits of laughter from mentioning past stories of your teenagehood. Teaming up with Maria to make fun of Tommy and his aging—all of a sudden, he was beginning to have a knack for playing a checkers. Only old people enjoyed playing checkers. Then, the waiting began.

To busy yourself, you pulled out your computer and brought it to the porch. Even though, you were taking some time off at your publishing job; when it came to your book writing, you had an agent to keep flooding your inbox with emails. Telling you to do this and do that—it was obnoxious. But you did as she asked anyway.

Typing away, a puff of nicotine fled from your lips. Murmuring under your breath, the words that were populating on the screen. On your hip, your phone rang, causing you to throw your head back in slight agony. Something always interrupted you when you were flowing. Flipping open your phone, the decorative chain swinging around as you placed it against your ear. “Hello,” You spoke, stubbing out your cigarette.

It was your roommate and closest friend, Sierra, complaining about the neighbors. Her strong long island accent echoing through the phone. “Oh, my God— they’re so loud! You’d think gettin’ an apartment in a nicer building would thicken the walls.” She groaned on the other end. “Please, come back. At least to tell them to shut up, and then you could go back upstate.”

“Why don’t you… I don’t know…” You shut your laptop, replacing your butt with the boxy electronic. Strolling to the far end of the porch, leaning your arms against the bannister. “Tell them yourself?” An amused smile spread on your lips.

Sierra paused. “Because that’s your job. I’m the nice one, remember?”

“Okay, well I can’t leave. I just got here, and I’m not spending another grand on taxi fare.”

“I’ll spot you.” You could hear her smile on the end.

“Sierra, I’m not coming back until Saturday. So, your only options are to either bang on their door— telling them to shut the hell up— or you suffer listening to their relentless daytime sex.” As you spoke, a truck began rolling up the driveway. Identities unclear due to the intense window tint, but you knew exactly who it was. However, there were three heads in that truck.

She groaned on the other end of the line. “Ugh! I hate you—“

“You love me!” You grinned, but it dropped right off your face when the people exited the vehicle. From the driver's seat, it was Ellie; then, it was Joel who exited, seemingly in conversation. And, finally, a girl stepped out of the vehicle. Joel noticed you leaning against the bannister on the porch, waving his hand with a smile.

Your muscles reacted, waving a fleeting hand. “Maria, Tommy! They’re here!” You yell loud enough to be heard through the screen door. You were always insecure about calling them by their parental titles in front of people—let alone new people.

“You’re yelling in my ear, hon. If you gotta go just tell me.” Sierra complained.

“I gotta go.”

Before she could say her goodbyes, you shut your phone, sliding it into your back pocket. Your parents came out of the house in high spirits; Maria clapping her hands, excitedly, embracing Ellie. Tommy giving a firm bear hug to Joel, laughing heartily—at what? You were unsure.

Awkwardly, you stood there. Smiling with your hands held in front of your body as if you were presenting a project.

Joel looked to you, approaching you with open arms. “Look at you,” He began, wrapping his arms around you, warmly. “All grown up.” He pulled back to get a better look at you, nodding proudly.

“Yeah…” You tapped his shoulder. “You, too.” A chuckle fell from your lips.

Then, you looked to your right at the freckled girl with her arm around a feminine stranger. However, you couldn’t indentify her before you did Ellie. Her auburn hair was pulled into a low bun, with pieces framing her gentle features. Her round evergreen, tinted with slivers of brown, eyes. Freckles decorating her cheeks, bridge of her nose; the beauty mark under left eye—

“Hey,” Ellie drawled out the greeting, awkwardly. Leaning in for a hug that teetered back and forth until you reciprocated.

You kept that same plastered smile on your lips, wrapping your arm under hers. “Hey, Ellie.” Pulling back, you finally looked at the girl beside her. She had tattoos and piercings and looked so much cooler than you. “Who’s this?”

Her earthy eyes widened. “Oh, this is, uhm, my girlfriend, Cat.”

The only response you could give was a nod and a half-hearted wave. It was like a dramatic record scratch in your head. But your parents took over with the rest. Guiding everyone inside to the warmth. Tommy remained outside, giving you skeptical eyes. “Help me with the bags…”

“Honey, don’t be weird about this.” He spoke, as you followed him to the truck.

“I’m not being weird.” You whined, gravel crunching under your feet. “Seriously, what’s to be weird about?” Reaching into the open trunk, you pulled out luggage’s and duffle bags. This was a lot of stuff for a week stay—they brought more than you did.

He gruffly breathed, pulling up the handle of one of the suitcases. “You’re my daughter, I know you— just sayin’…”

“Oh, my God— please!” You complained, hooking the duffle over your shoulder, pulling one of the luggage’s. Leaving him to follow you toward the porch.

Dinner had come quicker than you had hoped. If anything, if you could magically skip over the thing, and still eat, that would’ve been perfect.

All six of you sat at the dining table, forks and knives scratching at ceramic plates. Tommy and Joel had gathered in the back, last minute to cook up some steaks. And, to busy yourself, you helped Maria with the sides while Ellie and Cat got situated in the guest house.

“So, y/n, how’s the book comin’ along?” Joel wondered, putting a cut piece of steak into his mouth.

You made a surprised sound as you chewed your food, rushing to swallow. “Shit, you’re writing a book?” Ellie questioned, leaning her elbows on the table.

Taking a sip of water, you decided to respond. “Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a while.” Your eyes glanced at her, then moved on, quickly, to Joel’s. “It’s… Coming along.” A bashful laugh fell from your lips, as your hand reached for the glass of wine. It was barely touched, red hue swishing in the bulb of the glass as you took a sip. It’s fruity bitterness relishing over your tongue.

“What is it— like fiction or…?” Ellie pressed, genuinely.

“Non-fiction. A book of essay’s, really— written in different forms.” You nodded. “It sounds boring…”

Ellie shrugged, forking a piece of meat into her mouth. “Doesn’t sound boring to me.” She responded, with her mouth full.

“It’s the farthest from boring, honey.” Maria massaged your shoulder, sharing a small smile. You mirrored her in return, forking at the vegetables on your plate—perfectly steamed broccoli.

“How’s Brooklyn treating you?” You spoke up, raising your eyebrows.

Ellie lightly glared at Joel before answering, placing her utensils down. “It’s certainly treating me…” She muttered, rubbing her hands together, glancing at her girlfriend.

“It’s a great place for art, but just not Ellie’s art.” Cat chuckled, sipping from her wine glass.

“Oh, that’s what you’re doing.” You nod.

“I recall her using the words: too crowded.” Joel used air quotes to briefly describe the past conversation.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “It makes me feel crowded— the city. When you say it like that, it makes me sound fucking stupid, Joel.”

“You did say crowded.”

“Well, I meant overwhelmed.”

You snickered at their bickering, leaning back in your chair. “Back to your art, I guess you’re experiencing the artistic equivalent to writers block?” Tommy inquired, still chewing on his steak, raising an eyebrow. The auburn-haired young woman nodded, chuckling to herself. “That’s why you’re stayin’ with us for a little while, huh?”

Another record scratch.

You blinked at you father, deepening your eyebrows. “Wait, what?”

Joel had set his beer on the table, leaning forward. “Yeah, Ellie’s stayin’ with your parents for a little while to get her juices flowing, again.” He explained, pressing his lips into a soft smile. Ellie cringed at his use of the words juices, taking a sip of her beer.

Tommy and Maria told you nothing unless you asked for it for almost everything now—you at least deserved to know that Ellie was staying on the farm indefinitely. After all, when they’re dead and gone, it’ll be yours; so, they could’ve at least told you without you having to ask—that’s big!

“And, I’ll help out so I won’t be sleeping the day away— because I know that I will without a proper schedule.”

“I thought you guys didn’t need a farmhand.” You glanced at your parents, with your eyebrows still deepened with confusion.

Maria chuckled, standing to her feet. “We don’t need anything, but who could say no to a helping hand?” She grabs the empty basket of biscuits from the center of the table. “Anybody want more biscuits?”

“I would love some!” Cat spoke up, holding up a tattooed finger.

“Me too, honey.” Tommy also spoke.

A dry chortle left your lips, leaning against the back of the chair. “Are you staying on the farm, too?” You peered over at the stranger—the girlfriend, with a slight accusatory tone.

Her lips parted a few times before she responded. “Oh, no, I’m going back to Brooklyn. Not much of a country girl.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded, downing the rest of your wine. This week was going to be a doozy. When Maria came back to the table, you snatched a biscuit from the basket, biting into it. There was a perfect crispy layer on the outside, mixed with the perfect gooey, soft innards of the biscuit. “These are so good.” You muttered with your mouth full with its buttery goodness.

On your hip, your phone buzzed. Cursing under your breath, you plucked the cellphone from your belt, flicking it open. It was your agent calling you at eight o’clock at night. “Excuse me, I gotta take this.” You scooted the chair back, pressing the green button. “It’s late, Isa.” You started the call, stalking out of the room like the corporate woman you are. Taking the route up the stairs to your old bedroom.

“I need that new chapter by tomorrow morning— as in, 8am.” She scolded on the other line. “I’m personally reminding you. Since you couldn’t respond to my emails.”

You sighed, shutting your bedroom door behind you. “Isa, I’ve been traveling all day on public transport, and I’ve been trying to have family time— is that not what Thanksgiving is about?”

“You’re writer, hon. You have little bit of family time, then you hermit to finish your work— now, stop giving me grief. Time is of the essence.” Her smooth voice told, chuckling after her words. “I’ll be anticipating you’re new chapter tomorrow at eight! Have a great night.”

“Have a great night…”

Slapping your phone shut, you sighed, running your other hand over your face. Being a writer was relentless—just as relentless as you and your roommate’s neighbors. But, instead of lingering in frustration, you grabbed your heavy laptop and propped yourself on the cushion beside your window—your reading nook. Not forgetting to put a Sade tape inside of your stereo for some background music, before you began to diligently work.

You typed at your computer, rapid clicking sounds filling your ears. Although, it was no surprise that you worked your hardest after the sun set—it was like you had one too many espresso shots.

Every word was coming from the heart, and coincidentally enough, the guests at your home made it easier. This chapter was definitely reflecting the feelings you felt the day of Ellie’s seventeenth birthday. You used imagery and metaphors to describe that feeling of attack—being backed into a corner, having the worst part of yourself brought into the light. And, like most of your pieces, it was dredging it all back up again; the emotions.

That feeling of losing the only person that truly understood you.

Of course, you had a few relationships since then—a few, trying to chase that same feeling you felt when your hands touched. But there wasn’t anyone who could compare to her. How pathetic was it to still be harping on a highschool sweetheart?

Hours passed under the radar. Your parents being the mile marker in your work, knocking on the door to let you know everyone was heading to bed. Too busy with outlining new ideas, you barely spared them a glance, muttering a smooth goodnight.

It was about one in the morning by the time you finished the chapter. Still, it needed some tweaking, but it was good enough to send to your agent for the editor to look at.

Shutting your laptop, you finally took in your old bedroom. Various music artists slapped against your soft pink walls, attached with tape—some corners hanging off. Catwoman figurines lining the back of your large, white, wooden dresser; with comics stacked alongside them. Stacks of old books in the corner of your room, stacked from the floor to the middle of her wall. If you were to stumble into them, they’d experience one hell of a fall.

Suddenly, curiosity struck.

Hopping from the cushioned seat under your paneled window, you looked under your bed. Reaching for an old shoebox that was filled with many, many interesting things. You slid it from under the dusty bed frame, taking it back to that plushy seat you appreciated so dearly. Plucking the top off, you released a sigh. Immediately being hit with polaroids of yourself as a teenager—mostly standing beside, laughing with, and cuddling Ellie.

They were the photos you snatched from your wall after that fight. Oh, she looked the same. Still had that uncertainty in her earthy, olive eyes. You didn’t understand it then, and you most definitely didn’t understand it now. Ellie didn’t have to feel the uncertainty she was used to in foster care. She had people who believed in her—who will always believe in her.

Sifting through, your hands hovered over a letter she wrote. It was an apology letter sent around the time of her eighteenth birthday—almost a full year since the situation. The envelope was ripped open from the day you received it; stained with salty, heartbroken tears.

If only that day never happened…

A startling knock sounded at your window. It was no more than a pebble, which was confirmed when another launched within your sights. Scrunching up your eyebrows, you unlocked it, pulling it upwards. Once you peaked your head outside into the brisk, cool weather, a small smile spread onto your lips.

“Workin’ hard or hardly workin’ up there?” Ellie called from below. “I brought a little somethin’… Thought you could use a break from writing.” She waved a tightly rolled joint in her hands—which could only be seen if you squinted.

The corners of your lips spread wider, feeling horribly nostalgic. “You’re actually a little too late on that front. I finished a few minutes ago,” You pressed your lips into a line, continuing. “But I could never turn down smoke break. I’ll be down in a second.”

Dropping the letter, you scooted off the seat to grab your jacket. Stuffing your feet into the semi-stained Uggs you wore into the ground, before fleeing your bedroom. You didn’t feel the need to sneak down the stairs, but a part of you wanted to—to relieve that feeling of adrenaline you felt in your youth.

Ellie met you at the back door, holding open the creaking screen door as you exited. “I honestly wasn’t sure you still did this.” She chuckled, looking at the ground as you both began to walk away from the house. Putting some distance so the smell wouldn’t upset the elders in the home.

“What? Smoke weed?” You perked an eyebrow. “You think because I went all corporate, I stopped being down?”

“Actually… Yeah.” She responded, nervously snickering.

The two ofyou settled in front of this white-lined shed that was illuminated by the two warm, orange-toned lights on either side of the door. “Well, you’re kind of right…” You admitted, squinting your eyes, embarrassed. It’s hard being known for your adaptability. “I try to keep the pot smoking to a minimum. In the corporate world they test you for it.”

Ellie pulled the joint from behind her ear, placing it between her lips. She shook her head in response to your words. “Says the cigarette smoker…” She joked, eyeing you, teasingly. While she flicked her lighter to burn the tip.

“Hey, they don’t give a rats ass about nicotine— I need to make up for that loss somehow. I’m a writer for christ’s sake.”

When she finally gets it to catch the fire, she took two puffs before passing it to you between her index and thumb. “Where’s Cat?” You innocently questioned, taking a hit of the joint, then looking at it, before taking another hit.

Ellie became rigid, releasing an exasperated sigh from her lips. “The guesthouse, watchin’ some movie.”

You handed her the joint. “What, is she not down?” Mocking your previous words, with amused eyes. However, her demeanor had quickly shifted.

“She gets easily frustrated after traveling all day…” She shook her head in a dismissive way, like she didn’t want any further questions to asked.

“Hm… That’s relatable.”

Silence engulfed the both of you as you passed the blunt back and forth until it was nothing more than a roach. Hearing nothing but the distant wind chimes sounding off on the porch.

Before speaking, Ellie took a deep breath, glancing over at you as if she were nervous to make eye contact. “I hope me stayin’ here for a little bit doesn’t bother you too much.”

Her words were double-take worthy, you looked over at her with expressive eyes—widening, in surprise. “Bother me? Why would it bother me?” You leaned your shoulder on the shed, kicking one leg over the other.

“You didn’t seem like the biggest fan—“

“Ellie, I was surprised. That’s all.” You waved your hand, shaking your head. “I feel like they don’t tell me shit anymore…” Shoulders shrugging, you glance toward the house standing tall in all its glory. “They didn’t tell me about you moving to Brooklyn, either. What does it look like when someone you’ve known your whole life moves to a city you’re actually familiar with and they’re not, and you don’t reach out to help them? I’m only a forty minute train ride away.” You rambled, deepening your eyebrows. “They basically made me look like an asshole.”

You weren’t entirely sure how you’d react if you knew about Ellie’s moving to the big city. Knowing your habits, you’d probably sit by the phone for hours before making the move to give her a call. But, it’s not like you were given the opportunity to figure it out for yourself. Now, it just appeared that you forgot about her—or could care less about her endeavors; which is farthest from the truth.

Her full lips cracked into a smile, chuckling. The auburn-haired woman, mirrored your position, leaning her shoulder against the wooden shed. “Always worried about what you look like…” She muttered, sucking her teeth. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re an asshole— you just didn’t know.” Ellie shrugged. “It’s not like we talk as much as we used to…”

As much as we used to. That kind of stung.

Your eyes averted to the gravel under your boots. “Yeah…” There was an awkward beat that took its place between you. Swallowing, you shooed it away with speaking up. “What about your art? You’re living in one of the most creative cities in the world, and you can’t create?”

She puffed air from her lips, glancing in the direction of the guesthouse, priming her lips. “Okay… Confession— but only if what’s said here stays here.”

“What’s said at the shed, stays at the shed.” You affirm, holding a hand and crossing to fingers. The high from what you smoked clouding your mind, squinting your eyes and loosening your inhibitions.

“Cat and I moved in together pretty early— too early… I needed a roommate and she was the perfect option.” Ellie began, carefully. Olive eyes shifting under the dim light in thought. “I swear ever since I moved in with her… The inspiration to make anything new is fucking gone.” She ran her hand over her hair, which was actually loose without a hair tie. Dusting over her shoulders, pieces pushed behind her ears. “She, you know, hovers a lot— in a sweet way, it’s just irritating because not even her pushing me can be inspiring.”

Your heart skipped a beat; it was hopeful—you really are an asshole! “Damn… So, it’s not the city that makes you feel crowded. It’s Cat.” You hum, nodding your head, taking in your assumption. “And… You think staying here will help? Doing boring farm work?” A chuckle falls from your lips, borderline nervous, borderline humored.

She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, I spent a lot of time here growin’ up…” Ellie looked at you, knowingly. “It was never boring when we did it together.”

“That’s because we were doing it together. I’m not gonna be here while you’re shoveling horse shit.” You chortled, peering at her through hazy eyes. She giggled and it sounded like music to your ears. It’s been awhile since you heard her laugh from something you said. Weed always did have a way of bringing people together.

“Well, maybe before you go, you could help me out. Jog my memory.” Ellie offered, raising her eyebrows. “It’s either you or suffering through Tommy’s jokes for hours—“

“I don’t mind, but we might have to jog each others memory.”

“Hey, you can take the girl out the country, but not the country out the girl.” She shrugged. “I have faith in you.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, a smile spread on your lips. “You’re still so corny.” Shaking your head, a laugh slips. Wrapping your arms around your body, you acknowledge the cool weather. It pricked at your exposed skin, and even through your jacket. “It’s getting late…”

She scratched the back of her neck. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I appreciate the joint— I needed it.” You pushed off the shed wall, licking your lips. In preparation to meander back toward the house, you rocked on your feet. “There’s some left over biscuits on the counter…” You drawled, but it was all right because Ellie had filled in for you.

“I’m fucking starving.”

Then, the two of you walked shoulder to shoulder back inside. Giggling at stupid jokes, surfing over any of the past debacles you had. Turns out reconvening with your childhood lover wasn’t so bad after all. For now, anyway.

#🪅#millersfinest #ellie williams #lesbian #ellie tlou #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams series

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lvrclerc · 19 days ago

Text

✶ STEAL YOUR HEART, TONIGHT!

summary: after the united states grand prix, the drivers decide to immerse themselves in the true american experience by going to the most infamous coyote ugly in austin to celebrate ─ needless to say, max is in for a culture shock, and maybe a little heart attack when one of the coyotes seems to take a fancy to him.

F1 MASTERLIST | MV33 MASTERLIST

pairing: max verstappen x coyote!f!reader

wc: 7.6k

cw: reader is implied to be southern/has a southern accent, reader smokes, alcohol, english is not my first language, sexual/romantic tension, i know next to nothing about coyote ugly this is based on vibes and vibes alone, use of y/n, bittersweet towards the end.

note: the idea of max verstappen just stepping in a coyote ugly is so funny to me. here's to lei @cntappen who wanted to see a max fic!

WARNING!

You may get wet

You may lose your tie

You may lose your bra

No men on the bar

No touching the girls on the bar - even if it’s your own girlfriend, do that at home!

We don’t serve free water

If you pick a bad song on the jukebox, you may get skipped

If you are easily offended, this isn’t the bar for you

Be nice and have fun!

YOU WILL GET DRUNK, YOU WILL GET UGLY!

What did Max get into?

The words were written hastily on a board in front of the bar with a black marker, making him wonder how it successfully stood the test of time. The night was dark around the slightly weathered wooden structure, but the obnoxious neon red sign made each detail of the street clear as day: COYOTE UGLY.

It looked like something out of a bad, anachronic Western film ─ scratched paint, flickering lights, the low hum of American dad rock vibrating through the walls. Still, there was a line out of the door and people littering the front porch ─ girls in jean shorts and cowboy hats yelling to each other above the music, guys already stumbling out with their shirts unbuttoned too far.

Daniel was the one who insisted.

He flew in to watch the United States Grand Prix, as it would be the only one he’d be free enough to attend and it had been a little while since he caught up with some of the drivers ─ including Max, Max who had been the happy winner of the aforementioned Grand Prix. “Come on Maxie,” he’d said that afternoon wearing a cowboy hat he definitely didn’t pack. “After-parties are always the same. Fake VIP tables, same music, same people. We need something different for tonight! Something fun!”

Max had muttered that he was fine drinking in a familiar place and that nobody really went partying after Austin anyway ─ it was just another win, and they had a day to pack for Mexico. That was without knowing Daniel, obviously, who had already sent a group text. Much to Max's surprise ─ note the sarcasm ─ most of the drivers had declined due to exhaustion and the general reputation of Coyote Ugly. He thought that would be the end of it, until Lando, Carlos, Pierre and surprisingly Charles had all jumped at the idea like it was the goddamn social event of the season.

Mostly because Daniel had the talent to sell a bad idea to someone like a lawyer. And that─ that explained why Max was there.

Carlos was already walking ahead of them, sunglasses on despite the fact it was nearly midnight, yelling something to a drunkard behind him in fast Spanish. Charles trailed behind, squinting at the building like he was trying to figure out if the neon sign was ironic or a warning ─ Max concluded he didn’t look up what a Coyote Ugly was before tagging along. Lando was busy taking a selfie with a wannabe cowboy and cowgirl who stopped him, already in his element.

And now Max stood between Daniel and Pierre, outside this absurdly American fever dream of a bar, and he was pretty sure people were getting murdered inside. He wondered if Daniel had finally lost his mind.

“You’re going to thank me for this,” the latter declared, hands out like he was presenting a five-star resort instead of a glorified wooden box.

Max raised a brow. “No. I’m already regretting this.”

“I love it personally,” interjected Pierre. “Smells like tequila and questionable decisions.”

Daniel threw an arm around Max’s shoulders. “See? That’s the spirit. Come on, Max. Live a little. You just won a Grand Prix, you should be dancing somewhere.”

“I’m a driver, not a dancer. Especially not that type of dancer,” he deadpanned.

Pierre smirked. “You might not have a choice. I saw a line dance when I passed by the window, and someone getting body shots done on the bar.”

“You’re fucking kidding.” Max could feel himself blanching.

Daniel grinned like the devil himself, and Max wondered why he wasn’t in his hotel room. “Oh it’s real, mate. You’re in America─ home of deep-fried butter and girls with fire hoses full of Jack Daniels.”

Lando, who had finally rejoined them, snorted. “You sound wayyy too excited about this.”

“I am! This is culture,” Daniel insisted. “This is history. This is─”

He was cut off as someone inside screamed, followed by the unmistakable sound of a whip cracking. Max stared at the entrance, eyes narrowing at the figure of a woman sliding across the bar and before he could catch another glimpse─ the blur of the people inside blocked his view.

“... Is that even legal?” He asked.

Daniel just patted his back in fake reassurance. “Too late to back out now, champ.”

He ran to catch up with Carlos in front of them, leaving Max stranded in his own hesitation. Was he really going to…?

Pierre laughed, following suit. Well, he guessed it was indeed too late to back out, and Max never left things unfinished, after all.

The door slammed behind him like a final warning.

The heat of the bar hit Max like a punch. Everything was sweaty, loud, alive, sticking to his skin and prickling it. The floor vibrated beneath his feet from the raucous movements of the crowd, barely walkable, and the scent of whiskey and cheap perfume hung in the air. People were everywhere ─ dancing, shouting, laughing, adding to the bass escaping from the humongous, vintage jukebox in the back of the room.

Someone threw a bra across the room and no one even flinched. Carlos cheered.

It was lawless. Much more than what Max was used to.

“Welcome to America, baby!” Daniel hollered over the music, arms spread around him like he’d just stepped into a holy place.

Max shot him a look, dread comfortably installed in the pit of his stomach. He brushed someone’s feather boa off his arm with a scoff. “Is that what you call fun?”

“A little different from Monaco bottle service, huh?” Daniel grinned.

“Right now I’m just doubting your taste in bars.”

“Eh…,” the Australian clapped him on the back. “It builds character.”

Why would someone want to get literally hosed down with whiskey to build character, Max didn’t know ─ and it’s not like he pulled the example out of his ass: a guy was taking a whiskey shower in the middle of the room, given by a girl in very tight clothing and run-down chaps standing on the bar.

He squinted. “How is this even sanctioned?”

“Man, you ask yourself way too many questions, just enjoy! Look at the others, at least they’re already having fun.”

Carlos was already gone, swallowed up by a pack of cowboy boots and red lipstick, while Lando and Charles were making their way toward the bar with wide eyes and the kind of expression Max hadn’t seen since their karting days. Pierre vanished. Someone bumped into his shoulder so hard it almost knocked the wind out of him.

In the end, he just sighed. He wouldn’t win that fight. “If I get anything poured on me, I’m leaving.”

Daniel laughed. “Don’t worry, they’ll only do it if you ask. Or not. Anyways, let’s get a drink!”

Max started walking toward the bar, following in Lando and Charles’ footsteps before Daniel could even finish his sentence. If he wanted to survive the evening ─ hell, even just the ambiance ─ he needed something to keep him going. Preferably cold. Preferably strong. Preferably now.

But that’s when the music shifted, the lights dimmed ever so slightly, and suddenly ─ everything changed.

A warm glow from old projectors cut through the red haze, casting gold across the surface of the bar like a spotlight, and just like that, the crowd moved. Turned their heads toward the long wooden structure like it was a stage and not the stickiest surface in Texas. Someone behind Max let out a whoop so loud it nearly startled him, “Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!”

In the shuffles of bodies and beer, Max lost sight of Daniel completely.

He would have cared in any other circumstances, and maybe a part of him did at the moment, but he was only human ─ his gaze caught on the bar as well. More specifically, his gaze caught on you as you stepped into the light.

Crimson red cowboy boots first, planted strongly on the bar top, followed by the curve of your legs and the ripped, distressed hem of your shorts, the glint of a belt buckle looking like it carried multiple stories. Your tank top clung to your skin in the heat, and you were probably drenched in something ─ what, Max wouldn’t want to guess. Your hair was catching on the light, wildfire-like, almost matching the red neons. One of your hands lifted in the air, claiming the moment, and the other held a mic ─ beat up, wrapped up in tape, completely yours.

You didn’t ask for the attention of the people in front of you, no. You commanded it.

“LET’S WAKE THIS DAMN CITY UP!” You shouted into the mic, voice hoarse and tone ecstatic, and the whole room erupted.

And the music kicked in again, louder this time ─ an unapologetic, southern rock anthem beating against the wall. You dropped low, hips rolling to the beat while your hands gripped the metal bar above you to keep you on your feet. You popped back up with a loud, teasing laugh, and, mid spin, someone handed you a bottle. You poured the liquor straight into a row of open mouths, feeding the fire you started.

Max couldn’t get himself to look away.

If all the other bartenders, or coyotes as Lando affectionately corrected earlier in the night, looked like they performed the overt confidence, you didn’t: you looked in your element, basking in the spotlight, the attention and the smell of burnt wood. And it wasn’t just the way you moved, no ─ it was the way you owned it. Unbothered, untouchable. Like the bar was yours. The music, the night? Yours too.

And then for a second, just one ─ you looked at him. Dead in the eyes, over the crowd. Over the sweat and light and noise, and you threw him a grin.

You caught him staring.

It should have been meaningless, the moment barely lasted enough to make note of it, but Max’s breath still hitched. The beat of the music wasn’t the only thing making his heart stutter off rhythm.

The chaos dulled, the music softened and just like that, you were gone. Lost behind the bar in the sea of bodies crawling in front of it. Max blinked. He wondered if he hallucinated you.

He shook his head to get rid of the haze his mind settled into. Before he could have time to think about anything else, or even try, an arm dropped around his shoulders and a cowboy hat was on his head. Daniel had reappeared. “What a show, huh?” He said.

“Where’d you go?” Max asked, rearranging the hat on his head. He knew that if he took it off now, Daniel would be quick to put it back on.

“Went to fetch you this. Stole it from someone puking in the corner,” Max's nose scrunched at the mental image. “Come on, let’s finally get that drink. Maybe the Coyote you’ve been ogling during the whole perf’ will serve you.”

He protested. “I wasn’t ogling.” Because he wasn’t. I mean ─ what else was he supposed to do? Look at the ground while you danced? But Daniel was already on his way toward the bar and this time, Max followed him without much of a complaint. Mainly because he had been eyeing the spot you disappeared behind for the entire conversation.

People crowded around the wooden counter like it was a lifeboat. Arms waving, voices raised, someone yelling for shots and someone else already halfway to a table with three beers in each hand. The bartenders, sorry, Coyotes, moved like machines ─ fast, efficient, ruthless. Max tucked himself between Daniel and Pierre, who had reappeared as well, with difficulty.

And then, he spotted you again.

It was more like flashes of you, really. A hand catching a bottle mid-air. A flash of glitter on your cheek. A bandana tied around your wrist. Your voice cut through the air like smoke, low and teasing and just loud enough to carry. That’s what made Max’s head snap ─ it was unsettlingly recognizable, even after hearing so little of it.

“That’s your third tequila, cowboy. You aiming to dance or blackout first?”

Someone laughed ─ a rough, lovesick sound ─ and you grinned without looking up as you slid another shot glass across the bar. Through their drunk delusions, everyone around the table probably assumed they were in love with you, Max thought.

He stepped up, hands braced against the edge of the counter, waiting. That was when you turned and for the second time tonight, you looked right at him, as if feeling his presence before he could even call for another bartender.

Jesus fuck─ up close, you were something else entirely. Sun-warmed and sun-kissed skin, your cheeks were flushed from the heat along with your sweat-slicked collarbones. Your lips were pulled into the kind of smirk he’s sure could cause car crashes, and your eyes sparkled under the bar lights ─ like you knew exactly what he was searching for.

If you did, spare the poor soul and tell him, because Max wasn’t sure he wanted that drink anymore.

“You lost?” You asked. Your tone was smooth, a southern accent dripping from every word. God, that was dangerous.

Max blinked. Oh, he was gaping. “No,” he affirmed, a little too harshly.

Your eyes, intense, dragged over him, twinkling a little brighter than before. “You look lost.”

Max suddenly felt very conscious of how much he had to be sticking out. He had no outfits or items of clothing that fit this type of place ─ the light-washed jeans, the tennis shoes, and the black, short-sleeved shirt with his Formula One number in the back was as casual as he could do without looking homeless. The cowboy hat had to add some more ridiculousness to it, he realized.

He cleared his throat, frowning slightly. He usually wasn’t one to really care about outfits. “Just a drink, please.”

You leaned in, close enough that Max could smell your perfume. Warm, sugary, intoxicating. “Name your poison, pretty boy.”

Pretty boy. He gulped. For fuck’s sake, where did the confidence he had a few hours earlier go, when he was brandishing the Austin trophy?

“Whatever’s strongest.” God knows he needs it right now.

You just gave him a look ─ just the faintest eyebrow raise, clearly amused. Grabbing a bottle from behind you with practiced ease, you poured without measuring, slid a glass toward him with one hand, and propped the other on your hip, where Max’s eyes lingered a little too long.

“Try that,” you said. “If it doesn’t knock the edge off, I’ll give you a second round for free.”

He reached for the glass. You looked too smug, challenging him like he was no one to you, which he probably was. But Max liked a challenge, he was known for never backing out after all. He handled stronger for sure and America wasn’t the place that was about to teach him alcohol. He threw the whole glass back.

It burned.

His eyes watered, and Max coughed so hard he thought fire was about to spill out from his esophagus. You, on the other hand, looked delighted, grinning widely at his misery.

“You hate it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

You laughed, and the sound echoed in Max’s chest like cathedral bells, so violently he froze. Must be the alcohol.

Noticing his lack of retort, you leaned your elbows onto the bar, eyes dancing. “Aww, ain’t you too pretty to be looking this miserable?”

You were going to be the death of him. The corner of your mouth curled as if you’d just lit up a fuse. Max swallowed, slowly recovering from the short circuit your voice alone had triggered. “Is that how you greet all of your customers─ uh…” He choked out, searching for your name on your shirt.

“Y/N.” The name sounded good sliding off your tongue. Max felt the need to know how it felt sliding off his. “And only the ones who look like they took a wrong turn at a country club,” you commented, chin propped in your hand, eyes still locked on his. Touché. “You got that look─ y’know, European.” You whispered that as if it was a bad word. “Quiet, repressed. Secretly judging everyone.”

“That’s harsh.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not judging.” He was. He just wasn’t judging you.

“Sure you’re not, Verstappen.”

Oh. Your tone was casual, tossed off like nothing ─ but the sound of his name in your mouth made something flicker in his chest. Not how you said it, even though the accent and the inflections played a part in it, but the fact you said it at all.

You knew who he was, and clearly ─ you didn’t give two shits.

“Anyways,” you kept on going, oblivious or choosing not to care about the semi-amused grin that slipped on Max’s face. “The drink in your hand says otherwise.”

He glanced down. He threw the glass back, yes, but the liquid was so strong he couldn’t even get half of it down before choking on it. “I’m drinking it.”

“Barely.”

Max straightened a bit. “Okay. Fine.” Again, his tone was harsher than he actually meant it to be. He just didn’t know how to handle whatever was happening there ─ your smiles, your presence. “What should I be drinking then?”

You didn’t answer right away ─ just tilted your head, eyes sweeping over him slowly, deliberately, like you were appraising a new kind of game. It sent shivers down his spine, and he was deeply ashamed to say he was enjoying it. “You trust me, pretty boy?”

There was the nickname again. “I don’t not trust you,” which was as far as he could go after knowing you for a dance and a drink. Maybe he needed more. Just to make sure you wouldn’t poison him.

“That’s a whole lotta syllables for yes!” You laughed, already moving, pulling down bottles Max could barely recognize, tossing ice into a shaker with a rhythm that matched the beat of the song playing overhead. Your hands moved fast, confident, dancing between ingredients as if you were born behind this bar.

Max was fast, yes, but not in the way you were ─ intricate, careful. Just like that, he was hypnotized again, eyes tracing your every movement.

It broke when you slid another drink toward him. Something golden, fizzing at the top, smelling like citrus and vanilla. Like you. “Go on, drink.”

He eyed the glass. “What’s in it?”

“You said you trusted me.”

“You put the words in my mouth.”

You barked out a surprised laugh. “Either drink or I’m telling your lil’ blond friend with the camera you can’t handle your liquor,” you nodded behind Max with a sharp grin. “Wonder how that’ll go down.”

He glanced over his shoulder, and Lando had his camera zeroed on him in a way that may have tried to be discreet but miserably failed. Max muttered a curse. First, because Lando had the bad habit of filming everything and for it to get leaked the day after ─ so if their little outing wasn’t public information already, it would be by tomorrow morning. Second, based on his first point, he couldn’t possibly be dragged through the dirt for going to a Coyote Ugly and have the reputation of a lightweight. His Dutch heritage would look like a joke. Max brought the glass to his lips.

It tasted like heat, honey, whiskey, and something floral he couldn’t name. “That’s… actually good.”

“Told you you should trust me,” you said, pleased. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, I taste-test all the cocktails before I serve them. I’m not that much of a degenerate.”

You wet your lips, and Max’s eyes caught onto them for a split second. He wouldn’t let himself acknowledge the thought that almost formed in his head.

Instead, he blinked. “Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“So… intense.” It was a genuine question. He met people with fire, he worked with them daily, and he could consider himself one in a way ─ however, it was the contained kind. The one that was shaped to work toward a goal. You were a forest fire, spreading, in constant reach of something. Max was sure your fingerprints could burn themselves on his skin if you let them linger long enough.

You laughed ─ loud and shameless. “Apparently. Tends to flare up when I’m bored.”

And maybe it was the alcohol, or the raucous crowd ignoring you both entirely, making it seem like you had your own, private sphere, but Max leaned forward, just enough to make your eyes imperceptibly widen by the action. It made his stomach lurch with a strange kind of pride. “And are you bored right now?”

You looked at him, gaze heavy with meaning. “Not anymore.”

Max felt something stir low in his chest ─ heat, curiosity, the burn of your drink still coating his throat. He wished he could have lingered on it, maybe make sense of it but you took it from him, leaning back and breaking the tension with a sly glint in your eyes. A reminder you were in control of the room.

“You ever poured a shot before, pretty boy?” You asked.

That was a change of topic. “Uh─ no?”

“Well, that’s about to change.”

Before he could argue, or even ask what you meant, your fingers stroked his wrist and he forgot about everything he was going to say. That’s when you tugged him forward, He didn’t resist, more out of shock than anything else, but next thing he knew he was behind the bar, ducking under the pass-through from which Coyotes went and left. Pushing him into your world.

The heat was much worse with the change of scenery ─ the lights brighter, the music louder, you right next to him.

“Are we─ Am I even allowed back there?” Max asked, stumbling slightly as he knocked into a pack of plastic cups.

“Nope,” you answered cheerfully. Just as on cue, one of your colleagues piped up, something about ‘no men on the bar’ and the wooden board of warnings at the front of the bar flashed in Max’s mind. You flipped her off lightheartedly, saying something along the line that, technically, he wasn’t on the bar. Just behind it.

From under the counter, you took out a bottle of something probably lethal and a metal shaker. “Alright, Verstappen. Time to earn your keep ─ didn’t think those drinks were for free, were you?” So that’s what it was all about. “You’re gonna help me make a round of Flaming Coyotes.”

“No way in hell that’s a real drink,” Max frowned.

“Unfortunately yes,” you said, cracking ice into a tin. “And you’re gonna light it.”

Your fingers wrapped around his hand, and Max’s heart stuttered at how your whole palm could wrap around one of his fingers. You guided it to the matchbox you set on the bar. “Relax, I’m not gonna let you burn your eyebrows off… unless you’re chicken?” You gasped, mocking.

“You really want me to set something on fire? With no… prior experience?”

“Only a little.”

You’re insane, he thought. You’re insane and he was never going to leave this bar. But Max was not sure he wanted to leave as badly as he did earlier, that’s why he lit the match.

The crowd erupted when the flame caught on the shot glasses. In front of him, Pierre, Daniel, and Charles cheered and whooped as loudly as he could, and somehow Max forgot all about them in these 20 minutes. He looked up, breathless, adrenaline buzzing through his veins like engine oil. You were watching him carefully, looking like you’d just found something very interesting in me. “Look at you,” you said, tone playful. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

And Max smiled ─ actually smiled, for the first time since this night started. Wide, boyish, and wrecked by it all, and fucking hell did he look good, you allowed yourself to think. His chest swelled with something as you smiled back. And maybe it was the fire, maybe it was the cheers. Or maybe it was you.

The following hours were spent in a blur.

Not the kind of blur Max was used to ─ it wasn’t the sharp edges of a race weekend or the post-win daze of podiums and press conferences. This was so much more different. Warm, messy in a way that curled around his senses and dimmed the seconds together until the clock disappeared.

Shots kept appearing in his hand like magic, and he went from behind to the front of the bar as he pleased ─ most of the bartenders called him an ‘Honorable Coyote’, which shouldn’t have been as funny as it was at the time. The jukebox never stopped switching music, keeping him on his toes. Lando and Pierre had stolen a mic at some point, or maybe you gave it to them for the hell of it, and slurred She’s Country by Jason Aldean so off-key some of the girls threatened to cut them off, splashing them with ice-cold water. Daniel had tried to climb on the bar twice, failing miserably because rules were rules, Charles was attempting to dance with a girl in a cowboy hat three sizes to big for her head, and Carlos was desperately explaining race strategies to a group of drunken Texan who clearly didn’t know what Formula One was.

And then there was you.

Always moving. Always glowing, whether it be from the sheen of your efforts or the loud, obnoxious ambiance that sublimed your features. You’d disappear back into the rhythm of the bar and the beat of the dance, your natural habitat, flinging bottles in the air, laughing as someone tried to kiss your hand and you sent them waltzing away, yelling over the crowd without care. And now Max was convinced people there didn’t simply think they were in love with you. They undoubtedly were ─ six steps in and all that. And he would have been bothered in any other circumstances.

But whenever Max looked up, he caught you looking at him. Every time, you smiled like you knew exactly what you were doing.

Max didn’t know how much time had passed by that point, only that his throat was dry, his cheeks flushed bright red and hurting from how much he laughed, the back of his neck scorching from something stronger than just alcohol. Somewhere along the way, the night had stopped being about celebrating a win and started being about you.

Maybe that’s how he got roped in a messy attempt at a line dance.

He tried to resist at first. Truly. Max still stood by what he said at the beginning of the night: he was a driver, not a dancer. But when you shouted to ask if everyone wanted to see an F1 World Champion do ‘a little two steps’ and everyone cheered, including his friends and colleagues, the traitors, he couldn’t bring himself to say no. Not when you stood so close to him.

You’re Easy On The Eyes by Terri Clark twanged through the jukebox, loud enough to rattle the shelves and the floorboards, while Max tried to follow your explanations. His hands were on his hips, knees knocking together as he mimicked you except he was two steps behind and overthinking it. You were outwardly mocking him by now. “Your coordination’s better in a car, huh?” You teased.

Max huffed. “You call this coordination?”

“Aw, don’t pout, baby. You’re trying.” He rolled his eyes and you stuck your tongue at him. Daniel was somewhere in the back, filming, but Max had tuned the world out.

Somehow, in the whirl of bodies, he caught you again, his hands instinctively flying to your waist to steady himself so he wouldn’t faceplant ─ that would be the highlight of his night. Before he could process it, and you always a step ahead of him, you grabbed the cowboy hat off his head and in one slick movement, settled it on yours with a wink. The crowd roared in approval. Someone let out a sharp whistle. Max wasn’t fluent enough in Southern to know what that meant, but the half-lidded look you gave him translated across every barrier.

Game on.

You roped him into much more after that. Max followed blindly, always rising to the challenge, stuck in the daze of you. In the decadence of Coyote Ugly. In the secrecy of the nighttime, where everything felt allowed and nothing had to make sense in the morning.

By the time he was able to breathe, he’d long dismissed the idea to try and find out where his friends had scattered to. The only thing he could feel was the warmth of your hand wrapped around his wrist, tugging him past the old, swinging saloon-style door and out in the thick, velvet air of the Texan night.

The back of the bar was quieter. The hum of crickets, the soft hum of the neon signs bleeding through ancient wooden slats, and the echo of music and laughter still pulsing behind closed doors. Cardboard boxes were lying around, swallowed by the wild, uncut grass. The sky was wide and open above him, seemingly endless, stars barely cutting through the heat haze but present nonetheless. Nobody was there apart from the two of you.

Back against the structure of the bar, Max quietly watched as you lit a cigarette next to him. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest. Wordlessly, you offered him your open back with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t smoke.” He waved it off.

You shrugged, blowing a grey cloud out to the night. He didn’t mind it ─ driving every day of your life, you get used to the smell. “I don’t really like smoking either. It just gives my hands something to do.”

Max chuckled. That didn’t surprise him either, he already figured out life moved with you and not the contrary.

It seemed like you didn’t appreciate it when conversations stilled because you were quick to speak up again. “Didn’t think I’d see the day a world champion let a girl make a fool outta him in public,” you said, leaning against the wall. Your shoulder brushed his. The number of times you touched him tonight was too numerous to count, but this one felt different. Innocent.

Max threw a smile at you, eyes darting to his feet for a second, still a little glassy. “I’m not the type to mind.”

And that, for some reason, made you look at him. Actually look at him. The type of look stripping away the chaos, the teasing, the fire-breathing version of yourself you wore so proudly behind the bar. You looked at him and Max was faced with the fact that you were just ─ you. Still half-wild, still sharp, but a little less guarded under the moonlight.

He liked it. A lot.

“D’you always enjoy losing control that much, then?” You asked with a small smile.

Max’s lips parted to answer─ pausing.

He thought about it. How rare this was, to be in a place he didn’t understand perfectly, being in Formula One for 10 years, you get used to the pattern of events, and you know what to target when things don’t go your way to make them bend to your will. Right now, he was tangled in things whose sense escaped him, and did not want to run from it.

His voice was quieter when he finally answered. “Only tonight.”

You took that in with a nod and brought the cigarette back to your lips.

“I’m glad you came tonight, then.”

That was it. No confessions, no fireworks, but Max felt his chest tighten just the same. You were just two people, sharing the silence, letting the sticky Texas air settle into your skins, wondering what the hell would happen when tonight fades. He wasn’t ready to find out the answer yet.

So, Max asked, “What led you to this?”

“To what? Coyote Ugly?” You raised an eyebrow, blowing out a slow stream of smoke and watching it curl around the humidity.

“Yeah. Why do you do it?”

“That’s two different questions, pretty boy.”

“Guess I want an answer to both.”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t want to answer, but because no one ever asked. Not your friends, not your colleagues, much less your family who was less than understanding about your life choices.

You shifted your weight, eyes flicking toward the parking lot in the distance. “Well, I came in looking for a job, obviously.” Your voice was softer now. There was still a bit of tease around the commas, but not nearly as much. “Needed rent money. Didn’t want a desk.”

Max hummed. “Makes sense.”

You tapped the ash off the cigarette. “And then I stayed ‘cause… I dunno. You ever walk into a place and, as crazy as it sounds, even if it’s a mess, I mean like pure chaos, and wild and loud you think ─ yeah. This might be the only place I make sense? I get to perform. I get to be myself. Take up space. Alive, not rotting in place like I was scared to. I wasn’t allowed to… do all that before.”

“I get it.” He nodded.

“Didn’t think you would.”

“I race cars for a living. I get messy.”

It was meant to be a light answer, something thrown back with a crooked smile and a shrug ─ but as the words settled in the small space between you, something shifted.

Max looked out in the dark, the flicker of neon reflecting faintly off the metal of a rusted old pickup nearby. He let himself sink into the silence for a second, and you waited until he was ready to speak up again. And he did, in a whisper, more to himself than to you. “Everything’s always so… calculated. In racing. It’s controlled and measured, even the mess, you know? It’s still part of the plan, of what’s expected, somewhat.”

You turned toward him slightly, hip still leaning against the wall, cigarette flickering between your fingers.

“You’re serious,” you said. Not accusatory ─ just curious. “Like, really serious.”

He glanced at you. “And you’re not.”

“Oh, I can be. I know when not to be, which just happens to be most of the time. And I like it like that, honestly,” you shrugged. “I don’t want to be stuck in something that’ll bury me before my time, and I couldn’t see myself anywhere else now, not when I get to be unashamed like that.” Your last words were just above a whisper. “Free.”

The term stagnates for a while.

Until Max lets out a soft laugh, barely even there. “I don’t think I’ve ever been allowed to be anything else but serious.”

The words surprised him. Not because he never thought about them, but because he never said them out loud. He didn’t think he meant them. Now, they felt unescapable, slightly suffocating ─ and the way you looked at him, patient, didn’t help in the slightest. He exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s always about being perfect. Image, numbers, control. If I mess up, people lose money. I lose standing. Teams fall apart. Media goes insane. There’s no room to just.. exist? I guess?” His voice dips lower.

Max wasn’t about to say anything more. He sobered up too much to spill his guts further to a little more than a stranger. Yet, the way you looked at him ─ meeting his gaze with something softer than you’d shown him all night ─ and what you’ve told him, you didn’t feel like a stranger at all. You, who wore fire like perfume and laughed like a dare, stripped down to ashes.

You voiced what he was thinking. “So we’re not that different. I mean, we both perform. In our ways.”

He couldn’t figure you out, no matter how much he tried, no matter how much you’ve shown and hidden tonight but God, Max could have spent hours and hours trying to puzzle you back until you’d finally make sense.

Instead, he just dipped his head in agreement, which made you smile gently. You nudged him with your shoulder. “Alright, Verstappen. Guess you’re not just a pretty face, huh?”

Max choked on a laugh, and he couldn’t help himself. “You are, though. And a lot more.”

You rolled your eyes at his sad attempt at flirting, snorting, but the grin spreading your lips lingered for longer than it should have. Max shuffled a bit closer to you ─ subtle enough that it could’ve been the heat dragging him in ─ but not so subtle that he missed the way you shifted too, gravity pulling you both toward something unspoken.

Quiet still, you spoke up again, voice barely above the hum of the night. “It’s nice, though. People like us don’t get a lot of moments like this.” You gestured around, the empty half-alley, half-garden bathed in neon spill, the distant sounds of cricket, the sounds of the music and the people inside like a faraway dream. This. The in-between.

Max’s voice came back low, warm. “Then we should make them count.”

You turned to look at him, slower this time. And Max ─ he didn’t dare move. Just watched.

The way the light caught on your dewy skin. The glint of sweat at your temple. Your pupils blown wide, not just from the dark but from interest, curiosity. That sharp, electric pull that had lived between you all night, was finally quiet enough to be noticed.

Your eyes dropped to his lips, just for a moment. It was so fast that he thought he might have imagined it. His heart twisted anyway.

“And how are you planning on making it count, Max?”

His name, swirling around your tongue for the first time tonight ─ sweet, sharp, honey on a blade. It hit him square in the chest.

Something in his chest stammers, tires hitting gravel at full speed, and all reason is thrown aside after that. He doesn’t even know how it came to it ─ your back flush against the wall, his hands on your waist, your eyes boring into his and your cigarette half-smoked, forgotten on the gravel. He could feel your body heat as if it was his, your breath quickening at the contact. He could feel you and he wondered if you felt him just as intensely.

His eyes traced the curves of your lips and Max wondered what you tasted like. Smoke, citrus, spice. He wanted to memorize the taste, throw it into a drink he could get drunk on every night, threatening his health to grasp the memory of you again and again.

That was until─

“MAX?!” A shout echoed down the parking lot. Slurred, and unmistakably Daniel-sounding.

More followed.

“Mate, where did he fuck off to?”

“We’re leaving in ten, HURRY UP!”

It was muffled by the distance, but he knew you heard it as well. The half-smile on your face betrayed you.

“So, you gonna kiss me, pretty boy?” You asked.

It would’ve happened.

Max would’ve leaned in and would’ve chased the heat grasping his ribs whenever you looked at him. He would have mapped your mouth, the curve of your waist beneath his palms, would’ve swallowed every sound you made as he was starved for it. He would’ve kissed you and let you burn him alive, gladly, but─

The voices grew smaller. Daniel’s laugh, Pierre’s yell, Charles’ confusion. Reality bleeding back in. Max’s jaw tensed. If he waited a minute longer, he’d miss his ride. Miss the world contained in his hotel room that would stop spinning if he missed a minute off the clock.

He simply told the truth.

“If I start,” Max murmured, “I don’t know if I’d be able to stop.”

That earned him a look. It wasn’t surprised, or angry ─ it was something a lot like expectancy, and in some way, it hurt a lot more.

You stepped forward, hand gently rising to meet his chest. The contact was light but the weight of it hit him like a crash and when you pushed, just a fraction, just enough, it wasn’t playful or teasing. It felt like goodbye dressed like mercy. You took the cowboy hat you stole from him earlier in the night and put it back on his head.

“Then don’t start something you can’t finish,” you whispered.

You gave him one last look ─ one he’d replay for days, conflicting emotions dimmed down to the flicker of a lighter in your eyes ─ and turned toward the door.

And Max felt awfully selfish when he asked the shadow of your figure, “Are you still going to be there next time?”

You didn’t even look back at him, but he saw your shoulders shake in a bittersweet sort of laugh, now out of his reach. “In a year, you mean? When the Grand Prix calls you back to Texas? I don’t wait, Max. My life isn’t drawn for me. I take my chances.”

You disappeared.

Max didn’t follow. He just stood there, the imprint of your touch still warm over his heart, wondering if this night would feel like a dream come morning. If you ever existed ─ or if Coyote Ugly had simply conjured you from the smoke and the music to remind him what wanting felt like.

He hadn’t kissed you, but he would never forget almost doing it.

When he climbed in the back of Daniel’s car, he evaded all the questions, the friendly mockery, the knowing glances, the snickering about the cowboy hat he still held in his hand like it was something breakable. Max just sat there, humming along to the comments Carlos made about the night, fidgeting with the brim and rubbing his thumb along the worn fabric like it might give him answers. Maybe it had caught something of you ─ your perfume, your voice, your laugh, the heat of your skin ─ and would let it slip back to him if he held on it long enough.

But it didn’t.

Later, Max crawled into bed with the weight of the night hanging around his ankles like shackles, dragging the air from his lungs. He didn’t sleep much. He didn’t want to.

He woke up with the sun, far too bright for the early morning, streaming through the blinds he forgot to close. He could feel his brain pulsing behind his eyes, his bloodshot eyes struggling to stay open, the remaining, chalky taste of whiskey sticking to his palate like cement. The evening flashed before him, a fever dream he wished he had the strength to push away ─ the obnoxious music, the sweat, the alcohol, and your smile.

Almost.

Max groaned, sitting up with difficulty on his bed. Every single one of his muscles ached, a sore reminder of the failed attempts at dancing and bartending he made last night ─ some spots hurt more than others, and in some measure, they felt like the shape of your hands.

The cowboy hat he had tossed last night, in the desperate attempt to stop anguishing about the brush of your breath across his lips, laid in front of him, miserable. Max couldn’t help himself and he reached for it out of instinct.

It felt cheaper than it did before, most imperfect underneath the daylight. He’d already memorized the texture and shape of the memento, obsessively tracing it, and yet it didn’t feel sufficient. He supposed it never would, and he’d have to live with this reality.

Max was about to put it back on his nightstand. To swallow down an Ibuprofen, chase it with an ice-cold shower, and carry on with his life like always. Another plane, another race, hopefully another win.

But something made him pause. He turned the hat in his hands again, just like he did a few hours before sleep took him by surprise.

And there it was. Tucked just inside the brim, where the lining met the crown ─ scrawled in smudged black ink he’d bet his life was eyeliner, barely visible unless you were compulsively looking for it─

if you dare.

A little heart, and a phone number scribbled right beside it.

Max blinked, mouth parting just slightly, heart mistaking the rhythm of his breathing for the first few notes of a country song. He read it again, and again until it stopped feeling like a trick of the light and started feeling like a choice.

He left thinking you were supposed to be one moment. One night. A blur of burn and guitar chords ─ but you’d left a door open.

And it was seemingly Max’s turn to take his chance.

535 notes · View notes

crustyfloor · 8 months ago

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A new pop-up store dropped for ALIEN STAGE's 2nd anniversary and wow. It's so sick.

It's Interesting what exactly these experiments are focusing on and monitoring.

Instrument practice

I found it interesting earlier that Till was so tame, more so than he usually is when he's going through experiments, but music, and making music is what he loves doing, So he was fully in his element here. This was probably the only thing he was made to do by the aliens that he at least tolerated.

(Additionally, judging by his collar (orange), he was at least calm. maybe he just isn't fazed anymore.)

//Side note, that head contraption looks familiar BUT this most likely isn't related at least i hope

(It puts me at ease, at least..)

Dance practice

This surprised me, but I suppose Mizi needed more skills.

She looks very startled here, and nervous(?) +It looks like she's doing this while singing. And with that face covering I assume this was a test monitoring her dance balance, precision, etc. At first, I did think it was odd, "Why would Shine put her through that" But alas I was reminded that even though Mizi is the flower of the group she was never untouchable, to Shine, this was the equivalent of teaching your dog to sit and stay.

(seeing this it reminded me of those scenes in movies where the people are dancing, and the music gets faster and faster until they fall. I wonder if she was doing through something similar to that)

Singing practice (?)

Similar to Till she also looks quite calm outwardly, if the machine around her neck is an iteration of the collars they have, then this process wasn't something she liked, or given how intense this experiment looks, this was a test of high-pressure to ensure she always stayed calm during performances (?). Then again this could also be a posture practice given all the structure focused on maintaining her position.

(What I believe was another form of this test was shown before so I think so)

(With her hands in a praying stance I wonder if she was praying to herself or singing a religious song (sweet dream?) It's also interesting that the machinery around her looks like a halo, and she looks so...angelic? holy?)

Image making practice

By image making, I think they made Ivan replicate expressions with his face. Whether this process was painful for him or not...I'm not sure. But it looked visibly uncomfortable, maybe that was the point. (His expression, even in this circumstance is so dubious..)

Ivan, among other things, needed to have a spotless appearance to be successful, his image was a priority given his skills were certainly guaranteed.

I assume the aliens eventually took note of his lack of expression, in the real world this can be a detriment to one's career, so the Aliens had to ensure quality was perfect. (To a more...dedicated level)

Superiority test

'Superiority test' Is very vague.

HyunA is very calm here too, likely sedated in that water with all the tablets on her. I guess this was a test to get an idea of a pet human's strengths and weaknesses, endurance, and temperament to compare and contrast them with others, testing who is more viable for Alien stage?

Another interesting, and sad part about this is that HyunWoo was there, watching his sister through her experiments.

(Also, it looks like both of her legs are normal, no alien leg yet.)

Heart rate variability

And finally, the most visceral of them all. The wording 'variability' makes this all the more sickening, the Aliens were testing his heart hours, testing it at different rates, speeds, and states. And he was in agony the entire time. Even the way he's clutching his chest, it gives me chills. This would've been a completely harmless test in a normal setting, as something quite similar to this can be performed efficiently in real life. But he's being tortured in the process.

This is one of the first times we've ever seen Luka's face so truly clear and unprotected, (understandably so.) He's even crying.

#alien stage #alnst #WHATFRV EHBFUCKKKKKKK #i am devastated #GET TILL OUT OF THERE FUCK #HE DESERVES TO DO WHAT HE LOVES WHEN HE WANTS NOT BECAUSE OF THYEGAUUUUUU #now usually i dont feel bad nor care for luka but seeing this...seeing what heperu did for myself..its more nasty in person #fuck urak fuck heperu fuck phan fuck whatever sua's guardian is #ALL BUT SHINE #GR #hyuna's experiments boggle my brain...what the hell is superiority even supposed to mean....#i dunno #but i guess hyunwoo passed (or is next) its so sad how that baby had to see his sister go through that #explodes #get those babies out of there #sua with religious symbolism is back once again dont be surprised if anakts real child is her #she proved it in sweet dream #alnst till #alnst ivan #alien stage till #alien stage ivan #alien stage sua #alien stage mizi #alnst sua #alnst mizi #alien stage hyuna #alien stage luka #alnst luka #alnst hyuna #alien stage hyunwoo

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marsprincess889 · 3 months ago

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Vedic astrology observations

Part 7

Feminine archetype and appearance focused

Preface

In general, yoni animals of big three(especially moon's) nakshatras play a huge role in how a person looks and what they embody. Two people who share one or more yoni animals in big three might look similar, even if all the nakshatras are different. Also, for example, if someone has Uttara Phalguni in big three, and another person has Krittika or Uttara Ashadha(other two sun nakshatras) and Uttara Bhadrapada(U.Phalguni's yoni match), then they will likely have similar appearances and nature too. Both of have them have a Sun nakshatra and a Cow yoni nakshatra in big three. This is one of the interesting ways to look at the bigger picture while interpreting.

Bharani girls/women look divine in high fantasy/period(especially medieval)/mythical inspired looks. Long hair, headbands/diadems, low contrast/ethereal coloring, dresses that show the body/skin but don't hug it tightly, flowy fabrics. Unique pieces in general are best for them. They should avoid modern trends that are too constricting and structured. Their faces tend to have a unique beauty too so they should think outside of what's generic to see their own true essence. Also, their eyes are usually the best part of their face, they have a look of anticipation, innocence and fire in them. Makeup should be serving that beauty of their eyes, and their lips have a unique shape too, the sides of it are pulled downwards, but they're rarely too thick. Too much makeup in general is detrimental to them. They should not be afraid to appear delicate. Everything about how Bharani women should be styled must be focused on embracing and nurturing their natural beauty. They really should not try too hard. Looks should fit the person, not the other way around, that is true for everyone but especially for Bharani girls/women.

Pushya, Uttara Phalguni, Uttara Bhadrapada, Revati(?), Krittika, Rohini and Mrigashira might feel good/look good in a "milkmaid" look/aesthetic. What's interesting is that all of these nakshatras are associated with cows. The first three nakshatras listed might embody that aesthetic more. One of Pushya's symbols is the cow udder, so is Revati's. Pushya's fully in Cancer, and has associations with milk and nurturing. Saturn has associations with agriculture. Uttara Bhadrapada is another Saturn ruled nakshatra and its yoni animal is the cow, although it might lean towards more etheral looks than the sheep/goat yoni Pushya, due to it being in Pisces. Uttara Phalguni's milkmaid look might be more earthy. Mrigashira and Rohini can sometimes wear this look, due to them being in Taurus. Three fourths of Krittika is also in Taurus, and it's another goat/sheep yoni nakshatra that has associations with nurturing, but not as much as Pushya.

^^ To expand on the Cow yonis from above, they look really good with braids(so does Mrigashira but for different reasons). Cow yonis should lean into "traditional",natural clothing. That really allows them to show their femininity. They look really good with their hair down and with clothes that are comfortable. Like, they might look the best with a hoodie or a simple jacket and slightly discheveled hair. Big ballgowns also look amazing on them, as well as regal attire. They also might wear/incorporate elements that has personal significance to them, usually in relation to their close loved ones/family/community, a family heirloom or something that shows where their loyalty lies. (Please tell me this makes sense)

Cat yonis usually have medium to high contrast coloring, especially Ashlesha. Eyeliner looks divine on them, so does lipstick, usually with a rich red or pink color. Punarvasu might look ethereal and perfect in softer shades though too. They're the ones from the two more likely to have low constrast in coloring. I'd say if Punarvasu is light pink, Ashlesha is red. Punarvasus also have mixed/warmer tones than Ashlesha. They both might look good in Silver but Punarvasus should also try wearing gold(Jupiter's color). Punarvasu might look amazing with no lipstick at all too, but lip gloss or moisturizer is still desirable. They both also usually have really nice skin. If not, taking care of its health might really transform their appearance. Lastly, I think these two nakshatras look better if they feel a certain sense of control over their lives😅😭 hear me out. Like how Cats usually bathe themselves(but still smell nice???😭) and have a private, sort of weird and adorable "self-care" routine, these women approach everything in a careful, gradual but determined way, and I think that they need to settle into certain ways of taking care of presenting themselves. They need to feel a sense of safety and assuredenss in it on some level. They need to feel neat and tidy.

Rat yonis on the other hand have low to medium contrast. Purva Phalguni might have lower constrast than Magha. They look best in gold rather than silver. Purva Phalguni is one of the nakshatras that can benefit from having and sticking to staple looks/pieces, so they should not be afraid to do that. Similar to Bharani, they should avoid excess makeup too, but if they truly enjoy something, no matter how camp it seems, then they should go for it, with some discernment. Overly controlled looks are also not the best for them. Maghas usually have bold/noticable hair and they should lean into it. Usually these people don't fuss about appearance in details, but rather go for big statement pieces, like a big gold bracelet or chuncky earrings.

Tiger yonis, unlike cow yonis, will benefit from trends/structured and modern looks. Chitra especially is the nakshatra that likes to fit into certain aesthetics, but I'd advise them to avoid natural looking clothes that fit Cow yonis so well. Instead they should go for tight tops, shorts, tighter dresses, punk rock, fitted garments. If Cow yonis look good in big ballgowns, Tiger Yonis should go for formal dresses that are not flared but still look classic. Vishkhas should wear smudged eyeliner(my opinion lol). A little intensity and fierceness looks really good on Vishakhas but they should avoid excess otherwise like plague. Chitras might have a liscence to overaccessorize sometimes but Vishakhas do not. Also, Chitras can lean into softer/coquettish aesthetics but Vishakhas should aim for something more simple but intense and fierce, and they should not be afraid to mix feminine and masculine elements.

Jyeshta women have a very specific look. Their eyes are rich and intense, usually brows and eyelashes help with the intensity. These women might look really good with earrings, especially round-shaped ones, or a round necklace, given that Jyeshta's symbol is a round talisman. Their eyes are deep and piercing, but not really sharp, their shape could be soft. They could also have doe eyes but the ones that have intelligence, wisdom and worldly depth reflected in them. Dark hair flatters these women a lot, especially if they have Jyeshta moon or ascendant, but that's not a rule. Overall their look is intense, mercurial but regal. Their image should showcase their integrity. Any clothing that seems a little too frivolous or childish is not for them. They could find that they enjoy wearing quality but comfortable pieces that look simple. They can definitely play around with style though, given that they're a Mercury nakshatra, and can look good in something more "excessive". However, I've noticed that, even then, Jyeshta women still prioritize minimalism on some level. If they wear something more "out there" it must be once in a while, just to symbolically display their power. A lot of the times their most excessive outfits are not that excessive to others.

Punarvasu might be another nakshatra that makes its female natives look good in longer dresses. It's a very feminine nakshatra, despite being ruled by a masculine planet. Generally, cat yonis have distinctive faces. Punarvasu, being the soft one out of those two nakshatras, as well as having connection to spirituality and "godhood", influences appearance in a very unique way. These women might benefit from wearing long, soft, flowly garments that cover the body, maybe even a cape or a veil pulled backwards, but the face should be visible. It gives a "divine", "goddess-like", supernatural element to their appearance, which is true to their essence.

Vanar yonis are another pair of nakshatras that are more ethereal looking. They should avoid compact/structured garments and should not be afraid to wear anything oversized, within reason. Shravanas generally tend to be a little longer and slimmer, due to it being in the Saturn-ruled Capricorn, but they don't have the Venusian fierce, Aphrodite look that Purva Ashadhas have. Instead, they're smoother and colder, almost too subdued/neutral than their yoni consorts. Purva Ashadhas can have a more robust bone structure and look "healthier", but their etheriality can have an "earthly"/material element to it unlike Shravana, if that makes sense. This is also the yoni type that can get away with wearing anything weird: the type of choices that make you scratch you head and think "why would anyone go for this" but they somehow look fine and sometimes even good on them. This applies to Shravanas more. Quirky makes them look and feel good. Vanar means "being from other dimensions". According to vedic, they live in forests. Their yoni animal is literally not an actual common "animal" as most think of them, although "Vanar" has been interpreted as "Monkey". It's not inaccurate exactly, since these natives usually do have slightly protruding ears(like elephant yonis) but I think tossing out the origin of the word leaves out an important association.

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casscainmainly · 5 months ago

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The Evolution of Cassandra Cain's Dialogue

Since Batgirl #1 is out and thriving, I thought it'd be fun to dive into the history of Cass' dialogue throughout different writers/runs. This is not comprehensive - I'll miss some writers, but I'll be covering her generally most known runs in mainline continuity (so no DCeased, Shadow of the Batgirl, etc.). Not a linguist by any means, so linguists on here feel free to chime in! (I'll also give opinions on which interpretations I personally prefer at the end).

Without further ado, we'll start at the beginning:

Kelley Puckett - Batgirl (2000)

Pre-issue 4, Cass speaks minimally in one-word sentences and doesn't have internal narration. Post-issue 4 (when a metahuman changes Cass' brain), she develops an internal monologue and begins to speak longer sentences. I'm splitting Puckett's Cass dialogue into 3 stages: early, middle, and late.

Early (#4 - #12): Cass speaks short, fragmented sentences. Each word has an ellipses between them (panel 1 above, from #7).

Middle (#13 - #24): Cass continues to speak incomplete sentences (often missing a subject or pronouns), but without ellipses (panel 2, from #13).

Late (#25 onwards): Cass begins to speak complete, simple sentences, punctuated by a few ellipses (panel 3, from #33). She continues to speak grammatically (though slowly) throughout the final part of Puckett's run.

Dylan Horrocks - Batgirl (2000)

Horrocks writes very similarly to late-Puckett, with Cass speaking in full, simple sentences, punctuated by the occasional ellipses. Horrocks introduces two new elements to her dialogue:

Cass stutters, sometimes repeating a word or phrase at the beginning of a sentence (panel 1 above, from #39). This is mostly used in the earlier parts of Horrocks' run.

She quotes reality TV (panel 2, from #51).

Maybe because of the reality TV, Cass also speaks more colloquially here than in Puckett's run, using phrases like "come 'n' get it" (from #57).

Andersen Gabrych - Batgirl (2000)

Gabrych's run focuses heavily on Cass' dialogue. Panel 1 above, from #58, suggests her narration boxes are another form of dialogue - Cass is speaking into a recorder. Several features of Gabrych's Cass dialogue are:

Ellipses: Even more than his predecessors, Gabrych scatters ellipses throughout Cass' speech (panel 1).

Fillers: Cass extensively uses filler words such as 'uh', 'um', and 'like' (panel 1, panel 2 from #61).

Longer sentences: Cass is more talkative and speaks longer sentences (panel 1, which is basically more words per panel than Puckett and Horrocks combined).

Wordplay: Cass often ponders definitions and word structures (panel 1, 2).

Adam Beechen - Batgirl (2008)

After evil Cass (that dialogue is not worth discussing), Beechen gets another chance with Cass in this miniseries. More than any other writer, Beechen differentiates Cass' internal monologue from her dialogue - her narration boxes are much wordier than her speech.

Her dialogue is a more loquacious version of late-Puckett or Horrocks: full sentences interspersed with ellipses (panel 1, from #1). The ellipses drop off towards the end of the series.

Her narration boxes use a variety of sentence structures and vocabulary. They read more or less as fluent English (panel 2, from #4).

Scott Snyder - Gates of Gotham (2011)

Snyder's Cass somewhat resembles mid-Puckett, using short sentences without ellipses (panel 1, from #2). She speaks a fair amount, but is more taciturn here than in any previous run. This is partially due to her not having narration boxes.

A unique feature of Snyder's Cass is preferring formal to informal speech. Though she uses contractions (panel 1), she goes large stretches without them (panel 2, from #3). She also omits the subject of a sentence only once in 5 issues, whereas native speakers (like Dick) drop the subject all the time ('have you ever been to Paris?' vs. 'ever been to Paris?'; Snyder's Cass would always say the former instead of the latter).

Sidenote: Batman & Robin: Eternal (2015)

Quick note about B&R:E: Cass is reintroduced into canon after being erased by the New 52, which means she's back to having very limited language ability. The series is scripted by multiple people, so it's hard to analyse. Suffice it to say she speaks in monosyllabic words, at most a short, incomplete sentence, but is mostly silent.

James Tynion IV - Detective Comics (2016)

Because Cass' language ability has been reset, Tynion develops her speech along the lines of Batgirl (2000).

Early Tynion has Cass speaking single word sentences (panel 1, from #938). Very similar to pre-metahuman touch Cass in BG (2000).

During the League of Shadows arc, Cass begins to speak a few words at a time, often separated by an ellipsis (panel 2, from #956).

Afterwards, Cass' friendship with Basil Karlo blossoms, leading to this run's most distinctive language feature - Cass improves her speech via studying and quoting Shakespeare (panel 3, from #958). Her improvement is reflected in the rest of the run through speaking longer and more frequent sentences.

Bryan Hill - Batman & The Outsiders (2019)

Like other writers, Hill's Cass generally uses short, simple sentences. She frequently drops the subject or pronoun in a sentence (panel 1, from #1). Hill doesn't use ellipses to separate the sentences, opting for periods most of the time.

Cass sometimes omits other words from her sentences too, dropping articles like 'a' and 'the' (panel 2, from #4), prepositions like 'to', and verbs like 'is' (panel 3, from #9). This peters out in the second half of the run.

Becky Cloonan and Michael W. Conrad - Batgirls (2022)

Similar to mid-Puckett, Batgirls has Cass speak mostly in short, 1-2 word sentences (panel 1, from #2). Cloonan and Conrad occasionally use ellipses as well, though mostly for emphasis/natural hesitation rather than indicating a unique speech pattern (panel 2, from #7).

Cass also has a habit of repeating/echoing a phrase Stephanie says (panel 3, from #16). This might be more of a friendship thing than a speech thing, though.

Alyssa Wong - Spirit World (2023)

Wong's Cass uses short sentences sometimes interrupted by ellipses, like late-Puckett and Horrocks (panel 1, from #1). Generally, if the sentence is three words or less, there won't be an ellipsis (panel 2, from #5).

Kelly Thompson - Birds of Prey (2023)

Thompson's Cass draws on a lot of previous iterations, but is somewhat unique as a whole. Some elements of BoP Cass include:

She speaks in sentences of varying lengths, but rarely with more than one clause (panel 1, from #1). Thompson is more strict about not using commas with Cass than most other writers.

Cass is a little more talkative (panel 2, from #5). Her sentences are fairly lengthy compared to most other runs, and she doesn't always opt for the shortest way to say things ('where is it?' instead of 'do you know where it is?'). Thompson also doesn't use ellipses, which adds to the sentences feeling longer/more complete.

BoP is ongoing so Thompson may add more to her speech.

Sidenote: Ram V - Detective Comics (2023)

Putting this in a sidenote since there's not much to say, but Ram V takes after mid-Puckett, with Cass using shorter, incomplete sentences. Cass almost always omits the subject of a sentence; her dialogue is as short as possible while retaining clarity.

Thoughts

Because Cass' language disability is a core part of her character, but learning to speak is also a core part of her character, I prefer writers who emphasize her unique speech patterns without reducing her range of expression. My favourites are:

Gabrych - by far the person who put the most effort into his dialogue, Gabrych-Cass has such a vibrant, distinctive style of speaking. The narration boxes, Cass' wordplay, and the use of fillers and ellipses all combine for a speech style that highlights her disability without reducing her to it.

Puckett/Horrocks - combining because they are really very similar. Puckett and Horrocks both use ellipses to great effect, and is a great style to emulate for Cass in an earlier stage of life. Horrocks' use of reality TV is severely underutilised. Puckett, of course, is the gold standard for typical Cass dialogue - if Gabrych's style is a little too much, Puckett and Horrocks are the way to go.

Tynion - mostly because of the Shakespeare thing. It's such a beautiful and clever way of showing her progress, and the amount of symbolism you could do with Cass quoting Shakespeare is unmatched.

I don't super enjoy the more talkative Casses (Beechen, Thompson to an extent), though I kind of like Snyder's take because there's a sense of Cass being very careful with her speech there. If you're writing Cass for a fanfic or something, I would avoid Hill's Outsiders; the run is great, but Cass' ungrammatical speech is unusual and doesn't jibe with the rest of her depictions. Ram V and Wong are relatively good depictions to draw from though.

Of course these are my opinions! I may have gotten some things wrong/overgeneralised stuff, so take all this with a grain of salt. All you need to know is you should read Batgirl (2000) :).

#cassandra cain #batgirl #batman #meta #this took me so stupidly long #i didn't even include batgirl (2024) since it's only one issue but I might add on later #anyway more people need to emulate gabrych #so many are clearly influenced by puckett but gabrych's dialogue is so unique to cass and works nicely with her development #i also wish more people would use the reality tv/shakespeare stuff #cass spouting off the crassest phrase and then 'dost thou' in the same sentence

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