#Outdoor wedding entertainment

[lifestyleblogeruk]

Trends in Wedding Entertainment: What's Hot in 2023 and Beyond

As the world of weddings continues to evolve, so does the realm of wedding entertainment. Couples today are looking to create unique and memorable experiences for their guests, making entertainment choices that reflect their personalities and set their celebrations apart. If you're planning a wedding in 2023 and beyond, here are some of the hottest trends in wedding entertainment to consider for your big day.

1. Interactive Performances:

Couples are embracing interactive entertainment that engages guests on a personal level. From live interactive art installations to virtual reality experiences, interactive performances are captivating attendees like never before. Imagine your guests becoming part of a live painting or exploring virtual worlds during your reception!

2. Themed Entertainment:

Themed weddings are taking a step further with themed entertainment that complements the overall ambiance. From vintage dance troupes for a Great Gatsby-themed wedding to fire dancers for tropical-inspired celebrations, themed entertainment enhances the immersive experience for both you and your guests.

3. Tech-Savvy Fun:

Incorporating technology into wedding entertainment is gaining popularity. Consider hiring a robot bartender or setting up interactive touchscreens that allow guests to leave digital well wishes and create art pieces that can be projected onto walls.

4. Live Artistry:

Live artistry is making waves in the wedding entertainment scene. Live painters, illustrators, and even calligraphers are creating beautiful artwork during your wedding, giving you a cherished keepsake that captures the essence of the day.

5. Celebrity Impersonators:

Surprise your guests with unexpected appearances by celebrity impersonators. From famous musicians to Hollywood stars, these impersonators can add a touch of star-studded fun to your celebration.

6. Cultural Performances:

Embrace your heritage with cultural performances that reflect your background. Traditional dance troupes, musicians, and performances can add a meaningful touch to your wedding while sharing your cultural heritage with your guests.

7. Mystical Elements:

Incorporating mystical elements like tarot card readers, fortune tellers, and illusionists can add an air of enchantment to your wedding. These performers create an atmosphere of wonder and intrigue that guests will remember.

8. Silent Discos:

Silent discos are making a splash in the wedding scene. Guests wear wireless headphones, allowing them to dance to different music channels. This trend is perfect for accommodating different musical tastes and noise restrictions.

9. Aerial Performances:

Elevate your wedding entertainment, quite literally, with aerial performances. Aerialists and acrobats can create jaw-dropping moments that leave your guests in awe.

10. Immersive Theatrical Experiences:

Transform your wedding into an immersive theatrical experience. Set the scene with actors, performers, and storytellers who create a narrative that unfolds throughout the event, making your celebration feel like a real-life fairy tale.

In conclusion, wedding entertainment trends are taking weddings to new heights of creativity and engagement. Whether you opt for interactive experiences, themed entertainment, or tech-savvy delights, the key is to choose entertainment that resonates with your vision and adds a unique touch to your special day. As you plan your wedding in 2023 and beyond, don't hesitate to explore these exciting trends to create a truly unforgettable celebration.

[oldfarmhouse]

perf wedding venue✨

https://www.pinterest.com.

[summernightsdream]

[chakapriambudi]

Spot foto pre-wed di bali

Bali adalah surga bagi fotografi pre-wedding dengan keindahan alamnya yang menakjubkan, pantai-pantainya yang indah, dan lanskapnya yang memukau. Berikut adalah beberapa spot foto pre-wedding yang sangat populer di Bali: Pantai Uluwatu: Dengan tebing-tebing yang menjulang tinggi dan pemandangan samudra yang spektakuler, Pantai Uluwatu adalah tempat yang sempurna untuk foto pre-wedding yang…

[srjungleresort]

Wildlife Resort

The best wildlife resort in Coimbatore is SR JUNGLE RESORT. The southern part of India, is known for its rich flora and fauna.If you are looking to get up close and personal with nature.

[amberautumnfaebrooke]

i think i could design a better death arena for children than those hunger games amateurs.

the whole premise of the games is all pageantry. every year you get a crop of 24 candidates around whom the entire state media apparatus dedicates an entire year to building celebrity narratives. this candidate is the younger sibling of last year's winner - these candidates are young lovers forced to compete - he's smart - she's fast - root for them, care about them, watch them, form opinions on them, bet on them. and then they stick them all in an arena to kill each other, which is a great entertainment premise, except that they make the arenas themselves really boring and generic. ooo, they're in...a forest.

it's not even an interestingly designed forest. imagine if the game designers treated their arena like an actual video game designer treats level design. discrete zones with multiple paths between each room, creative use of lighting to guide players to points of interest, points of interest scattered across the map, discoverable resources hidden to encourage exploration. instead they just have a generic outdoors location and if you get too close to the edge they throw a random fireball at you.

the 75th games are especially bad about this. the arena is laid out radially into 12 wedges, and each hour one wedge becomes especially dangerous in a 12-hour loop. as a mechanic, this is genius. it forces everyone to keep moving, making "survival by hiding" an engaging and tense viewing experience instead of someone sitting in a tree for three days. plus, it encourages players to return to the center of the arena, where travel time between wedges is short, which creates a high-value zone for players to regularly return to and conflict over. in other words, it's a mechanic which incentives players to adopt dramatic, dynamic, exciting behaviors which are entertaining to watch (not to mention it communicates geography to the audience well). but it only incentives those behaviors if the players understand what's happening, and they go out of their way not to tell the players anything! when they figure out what's going on, the showrunners spin the arena to disorient the players, like they're intentionally trying to get them to just. randomly wander the jungle instead.

this isn't even to mention how often they create undramatic, boring deaths. they plant poison berries around the arena. they supply no fresh water and no way to get it. they roll poison clouds over sleeping victims. these happen to work out in the books themselves but you have to imagine that extremely often these just result in players dying unexciting deaths.

the cardinal sin though, of course, is that nothing is done to personalize the arena for the crop of contestants that year. if i'm designing the 75th hunger games and two of my most beloved contestants famously had to cancel their wedding because of a return to the games, i would OBVIOUSLY give them a trail of, i don't know, wild game which conveniently leads directly past a well defended wedding chapel. will they hole up there for a while? hold a mock ceremony for themselves? do or receive ironic violence here? stare wistfully and move on? any of it is better television than getting attacked by generic attack monkeys. you should have a dozen of these things on the map for every single candidate. but the game makers are more interested in doing the same thing every other game has done than in telling a compelling story.

it makes me second guess enjoying the children's murder arenas at all.

[finders-world]

Let's click there :

[wileys-russo]

Emily Fox, “So… Do you actually like me—” “We have been together for seven years. We’re getting married next year. What the hell do you think?”, while house hunting

house hunting II e.fox

"-and this is the last one for today?" your fiance asked as the real estate agent arrived, parking behind the two of you in the driveway and hurrying out of the car with arms laden full of papers.

"yes the last one for today. but if you're not feeling it we can organize some more for mid next week!" the woman assured, fumbling around to find the keys as you slipped your hand into emilys and squeezed gently.

"i know its been a long day, but this could be the one." you reminded softly as the brunette nodded tiredly, having trained this morning for several hours and then been dragged to six different properties you knew her patience was wearing thin.

"i know, and i know we both want to find the right house so if this isn't the one, thats okay too." your fiance nodded her agreement as you leaned in to sweetly peck her lips as the real estate agent finally unlocked the front door.

"i love you." "i love you more."

you'd both recently gotten engaged which was long overdue, and though you'd lived together for several years now you'd mutually decided that before you started to make wedding plans and a budget, your next step was to buy your first home together.

"-and then this is the master. i just need to make a couple of calls but i'll be right downstairs if you have any questions!" the woman smiled kindly, having given you both the grand tour and stepping away to provide some privacy for the pair of you to talk.

"do you like it?" "what do you think?"

you both shared a look and laughed at your in sync thinking, and you couldn't help the surge of butterflies which fluttered around your chest at the look of the grin on your fiances face.

"i really like it." "it has almost everything we said we were looking for."

again you both laughed speaking in unison, the footballer playfully rolling her eyes as your hand came to cover her mouth with a tut and a shake of your head as she pushed you off.

"close to good schools, not too far from the training centre, big backyard, five rooms, multiple bathrooms, garage which would fit both of our cars-" emily started to list as you nodded.

"-lots of natural light, glass sliding back doors that lead out onto the deck, fireplace, stairs aren't too steep, huge kitchen with an island bench top, great potential for entertaining indoors and outdoors, in-ground pool."

your hands interlocked again as you wandered from room to room upstairs, eventually ending right back up in the master and separating to have a closer look.

"hers and hers closet." you ticked off with your finger making emily chuckle as she followed you inside, the two of you mentally filling the shelves and racks with clothes as a comfortable silence fell between you.

"good size bathroom cabinets." emily made a ticking motion in the air now as you both moved to the ensuit bathroom next, you now laughing before she kissed your cheek and wandered over to inspect the shower.

"but it is just out of our budget." you sighed, your fiance humming and turning around to face you. "but really, we did lowball our budget to be prepared for the wedding." the girl reminded as you nodded, eyes roaming the room.

"and we did agree not to set a date yet because we could wait an extra year if we wanted to." you added on as now emily sighed, your body relaxing as your fiance pressed herself against you, arms circling your waist as her chin found home on your shoulders.

"you did make me wait seven years for a proposal baby, whats another two finally engaged?" you teased, her nose tucking into your neck as her lips softly kissed your shoulder blade.

"girlfriend, fiance, wife, none of those titles make me love you any more or any less. we're building a life together babe, we've been building a life together. this is our decision, nobody else's." the defender murmured, hand coming to rest on your cheek, turning your head slightly so her mouth could meet yours properly.

"i get the top shelf of the cabinets and the left side of the closet, obviously." you pulled away with a nod to the cabinet hearing a scoff behind you.

"and what makes you so sure of that baby?" your fiance questioned, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow at you through the mirror in front of you.

"well i just claimed it." you shrugged with a grin, squealing as the brunette pinched your hip and you pushed her off of you. "and if i dispute your claim?" emily challenged crossing her arms as you let out a long and troubled sigh.

"so, do you actually like me or-" you started sadly as your fiance scoffed loudly cutting you off. "do i like you? we've been together for seven years. we're getting married! what the hell do you think?" her eyes rolled making your lips curl up into a smile.

"i think the top shelf and the left side of the closet should be mine, since you like me so much." you nodded matter of factly. "well then i get the left side of the bed, we are not having more than two decorative pillows and-" the girl paused as you raised an eyebrow awaiting her to finish her demands.

"and...?" "and...we buy this house." emilys face softened as her hands found yours, fingers interlinking and tugging you closer as your features lit up with surprise.

"really?" "really."

[astrocafecoffee]

Astro observation ( part 1)

🔹For entertainment purposes only, enjoy🔹

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

✨ Uranus in the first house individuals may reject authority or traditions that feels restrictive to them.others may seem them as trendsetters or avant -garde in their approach to life.

✨ Venus in the 10th house of natal chart peoples are so workaholic that they prioritise their career, success over personal relationships or self care.

✨ your spouse's name asteroid could fall in your natal 7th house. ( Not necessarily, but it can be).

✨ mercury in the 5th house can indicate a communicative and involved parenting style. This individuals may encourage their children's intellectual development, creativity, and curiosity, fostering a supportive environment that values self expression and learning.

✨ Scorpio mars individuals have a strong sense of loyalty and protectiveness towards their loved ones. They can be fiercely protective of those they care about and may go to great lengths to defend and support them.

✨ regulus in 7th house of Composite chart - your relationship with your person may bring some fame/ recognition.

✨ Astrocartography mc lines - indicates which place may have a significant impact on your career or public life.

✨ Astrocartography Dc lines - you may meet your spouse/ long term partner there.

✨ Saturn in the 4th house individuals are very traditional 🙂

✨ solar return Jupiter/ mercury in 3rd house/ 10th house may indicate favorable year for cracking competitive exams.

✨ Earth dominate individuals may admire partners who take their commitments seriously whether it's in personal relationships ,career or other areas of life.

✨ juno in 1st house of groom persona chart means your spouse may influence how you present yourself to others or how you are perceived in social settings. they could bring out certain qualities in you or play a significant role in shaping your public image.

✨ South node lines in your Astrocartography chart indicates where you lived in your past lives.

✨ Briede conjunct Devine asteroid in synastry - divine/ fated relationship.

✨ Union asteroid in your groom / briede pc can indicate where you will meet your potential life partner/ spouse :

♾️ Union in Aries - dynamic / stimulating environments suggest adventurous activities, sports events, or places that involved risk taking and exploration. Gyms, fitness classes, martial art studios, organizing events , can meet through social gatherings / casual meet ups where people gather for fun or socializing. , Business conferences/ academic competitions.

♾️ Union in Taurus -

Fine dining restaurants , art galleries/ elegant social events. Settings related to finance, banking, investments , or business networking events., Exhibitions , concerts, musical performance, through mutual friends, wellness workshops.

♾️ Union in gemini -

Intellectual or educational events, workshops, seminars, book clubs , social gatherings , parties , online platforms, social media, dating apps, local festivals , neighborhood gatherings , during travel, airport, train station, writing workshop, media production, related to communication and journalism.

♾️ Union in cancer -

Family gatherings , reunions, hospitals , caregiving facilities, charity events , volunteering activities, through mutual friends, at historical sites, museums, art galleries, cultural events, small town festivals, near Lake, river, beaches, cafe , restaurant.

♾️ Union in leo -

Theatres , music venues, art galleries, or during performances and artistic events, parties , weddings, festivals , or grand gathering, acting class, outdoor festival, sports event , amusement park, related to child's education, youth organization, casinos, comedy clubs , gaming centre etc.

♾️ Union in Virgo -

Office , workplaces, professional conferences, networking events, volunteer activities, community service projects, charitable organisations, gyms, fitness classes health food store, wellness center, university, school , educational seminars, pet adoption events, parks , botanical garden.

♾️ Union in Libra -

Social getherings, parties, networking events, through mutual friends, concerts, cultural events, museums, theatre performance, settings related to law, mediation or during discussions that involve finding mutual agreements or resolutions., Teamwork, collaboration, relationship focused workshop,fashion shows, design exhibition, cocktail party, formal gatherings, courtroom, law office.

♾️ Union in scorpio -

Psychotherapy session, support groups, detective work, reasearch fields or in setting that require deep analysis and understanding., Spiritual retreats, metaphysical shops, astrology or tarot classes, tantra workshop, relationship councilling, setting related to investment, joint ventures, estate planning, holistic health centres , transformational workshop, place focused on healing practices.

♾️ Union in Sagittarius -

Travel, airport, train station, in foreign countries, or while participating in adventures such as hiking, backpacking, or exploring new cultures, University, libraries, seminars, religious gatherings, philosophy group, outdoor activities, sports events, camping trips, cultural festival, international events, language exchange program, law, publishing house, that promotes justice.

♾️ Union in Capricorn -

Office, corporate events, buisness conference, while pursuing ambitious projects, leadership roles, ceremony, cultural events, context related to banking, investments, Financial setting, teaching activities , prestigious club , organization, or during events where recognition and achievements are celebrated., Formal dinner etc.

♾️ Union in Aquarius -

Activism, volunteer work, community organization, seminars, conferences, discussion groups, online platforms, social media, tech startups, through mutual friends, social circles, online communities, music festival, Charity work.

♾️ Union in Pisces -

May meet in spiritual retreats, meditation centre, yoga studio, art galleries, theatre, music concert, poetry reading,film screening , volunteer work, charitable organisations, near Lake , beaches , hospital, clinic, wellness center, music festival, dance class, spiritual chants or ceremonies, book clubs focused on fiction on fantasy genres.

✨ Saturn in 1st house people often have RBF / Serious demeanor 👺

✨ Moon opposite/ square Saturn in solar return chart indicates emotional heaviness, feeling of loneliness or responsibilities weighing heavily on the emotions 😭.

✨ Jupiter/ Venus in 2nd house of Groom/ Briede pc indicates rich spouse.

✨ South node conjunct karma in synastry might suggest past life conflicts, power struggles or intense experiences that need healing or resolution in the current lifetime.

My other posts :

🔮 your future spouse's career.

🔮 your past life.

🔮 marriage placement in synastry and composite.

And many more on my page-

See you soon ~

- Piko ✨

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part one

authors note: well, i got some type of writers block working on two other RR wip's so opened a new google doc and ended up with this. prob gonna be 3 parts, maybe 4. there's an almost five year time jump after this one, can you guess why? also, joe's wife is an oc, not galina.

first time posting my roman writings on here and trying not to freak out tbh

warnings: angst, infidelity, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny's child

word count: 4,000

You know that assignment everyone at some point in their education where they research what they want to be when they grow up and share it with the whole class for a grade? Yeah, that big mammoth of a question that somehow you’re supposed to have confidently answered before even reaching double digits.

That was always super easy for you.

From as far back as you can remember, you wanted to be a teacher. It took until you were in middle school, almost high school for you to settle on an elementary school teacher, college for a specific grade. But, the teaching profession always called to you.

You chalk it up to your grandmother, undoubtedly one of your favorite people in this entire world. She was also an elementary school teacher who taught until she was expectedly called home when you were 14. Some part of you wonders if you’ve never even allowed yourself to entertain any other professions because of her loss. She was your best friend, and following in her footsteps was wanted but also felt somewhat necessary. Like you had to in order to honor her and her legacy.

A couple years into your career, you still think about that, how you’ve known from such a young age what you wanted to do with your life. Well, one part. 

In other areas, maybe the most important areas, you were lost as all of the outdoors. Mostly in one area, if you’re being honest, and truthfully, it’s not even what you want in as much as it is how you get there. The path is relatively simple: find a man, fall in love, get married, have babies, live happily ever after.

It’s such a stereotypical trajectory, but one you’ve also envisioned for yourself since your late teens. You’d gotten partying all out of your system during the early college years, somewhat in high school as well. Now in your mid 20s, soon to be late 20s, all you want to do is prepare to eventually settle down. Sooner rather than later.

And the issue isn’t even having no prospects. You have a prospect, he’s just unavailable. 

Because he’s already fucking married.

But can you even call him a prospect when that implies there’s some chance? Because there’s zero chance. You know this. You know this very well, too well. So why you still allow him into your bed and inside of you is beyond you. Yes, the sex is out of this world, but you desire more than that. Maybe not at first, but almost three years deep into this arrangement, most definitely.

You still think back to your first meeting.

Your best friend won a contest that not only granted her two front row tickets to a Smackdown show but backstage passes as well. You met so many wrestlers that night, some you grew up watching on TV as the little tomboy that you were as a kid. But, it was one wrestler in particular: tall, muscular, hair more beautiful and silky than any silk press your beautician mother could ever style, that changed your life. Whether for better or worse remains to be seen. 

He was attractive, extremely, possibly one of the most beautiful men you’d ever met. But, the attraction was short-lived when you spotted the wedding band on his left hand. You’d be lying if you tried to say that was when the attraction sizzled out. It diminished, but it was still there. Still, you didn’t think much of it, that was until you received a call from a number on your phone that you didn't recognize. 

Why you even accepted the call is still a mystery. You never answered random calls, yet that one was an exception, an exception that resulted in you having an unexpected phone conversation with Roman fucking Reigns. He explained that he got your number from your friend who’d exchanged contact information with a wrestler she met that night as well. They were messing around too, that much you knew. And good for her. He, unlike Roman, was not married and therefore free to fuck around.

The conversation lasted much longer than it needed to, especially given the flirtatious nature it quickly took on. It was wrong, you knew this well, very well. He took vows, but you were also aware of those vows. And heat no point pressured you into anything, you could have cut it off. Flirtatious he was, but forceful he was not.

The conversations increased in frequency and length over a matter of weeks that turned into months, and before you knew it, your day started and ended with either a text or phone call from the wrestler. 

A small part of you knew that it would eventually escalate into more, a man like him seemed like he needed more. But, you stupidly tried to tell yourself that when that time came, you would remain strong and draw the line in the sand with just communication. Even if it was just as wrong as anything else.

It was a silly thought. 

Your resolve was weak.

You absolutely did not need to accept his invitation to fly you out to one of his shows, and you damn sure didn’t need to allow him to take you back to his hotel where your legs ended up wrapped around his waist as he pounded into you—among other things—until the early hours of the morning.

The days after that were rough. You felt absolutely disgusted with yourself. It was one thing to flirt with a married man, but it was an entirely different thing to fuck a married man. He wasn’t yours. He belonged to someone else. He had a life with some other woman. You had no right to insert yourself into that union, so you decided to sever contact with him, deleting his number from your phone and shoving the experience in the ‘biggest regret of your life’ box with no intention of reopening it.

Unfortunately for you, Roman, Joe, as he asked you to call him, was a persistent bastard.

You ignored his texts, so he called. You ignored his calls, so he texted. You ignored both, and this motherfucker showed up at your goddamn door. There were multiple times you could have and should have ended things, that being another perfect opportunity. If you told him to leave that night, not allowed him into your apartment, he would have listened. He was stubborn and resolute but also respectful. If you told him to leave, really told him, he would have done so.

But, you didn’t. You allowed him into your place and similar to the last time you were in his presence, ended up spread out on your bed with him balls deep inside you until you couldn’t feel your lower half. 

Now, fast forward three years later, not much has changed. You two don’t communicate quite as much in the day, and his visits are more spread out given the company’s current efforts at pushing him as the new face of the company. But, that doesn’t stop his visits to come see you and flights he puts you on to come see him, both of which always end with him leaving your legs jelly and throat raw.

All the while his wife sits at home unaware of her husband’s consistent residence between your legs.

The thought alone makes you sick, revolted at yourself, at how you’ve allowed yourself to reach this point in life. Closer to 30 than 20 and going on 3 years of being a mistress to a married man, a man who can never give you the future you want yet refuse to let go. 

Not that you’d ever allow yourself to really acknowledge why. 

That’s….that’s just too much.

________

Pillow talk was just something that naturally happened between the two of you. It made sense given that your relationship started out with just talking. He seemed interested in knowing more about you, about your likes and dislikes. He shared his as well. You weren’t beyond admitting that Joe was insanely easy to talk to, the flow of conversation always natural, never forced. There never seemed to be a dry spot between you two. 

And whether it was an innate ability to pick up on the emotions of others or just his, you could always tell when something was bothering him, could see when he came to you with a burden he didn’t want to discuss.

Not that that stopped you from asking. If he declined to talk about it, you respected it, didn’t push. But, more often than not, he would end up sharing things with you, mostly concerns regarding his career.

It seemed he visioned one thing for himself, while Vince McMahon saw another. He felt frustrated at times, especially when the fanbase started pushing back more. He never admitted as such, but you could see it hurt his feelings. How could it not? Kayfabe or not, Joe was still a real person with real feelings, regardless of the role he played.

And at some point, his visits to see you stopped always involving sex. That happened majority of the time, but there were occasions when he just seemed like he needed someone to be around, a distraction, someone to talk to. 

Someone like you.

“Come on.” You jumped up off the couch and offered your hand that he looked at with disinterest. “Don’t make me drag your big ass. It’ll probably break my back.” He lifts his brow, and you roll your eyes. “Joe, come onnnn.”

“Where are we going?” He finally asks, all the while sighing heavily and standing up. Though unnecessary at this point, he still takes your hand. You try not to think too much of the gentle squeeze he gives.

“To my kitchen.” 

Glancing over, he gestures with his thumb. “The place that’s like 3 feet away.”

You suck your teeth and shove against him. “Don’t be an ass. We’re gonna bake cookies.”

“Bake?”

“That’s what I said.” Though clearly skeptical, he follows you into the kitchen and watches as you start gathering supplies. “I spent a lot of summers with my grandma, and whenever either of us were having a bad day, she’d take us into the kitchen and we’d bake chocolate chip cookies. She’d always say there’s nothing a good chocolate morsel can’t cure.” 

Reflecting on those memories, so fond and cherished, brings a despondent smile to your face.

His eyes fall on you, sensing the sudden sadness. “You miss her.”

“Every day….” Shaking your head, you make a conscious effort to not make this about you and your grief. “Now, we need music.” You settle on some random “cookout” playlist that aids in setting the playful mood. To your surprise, yet not surprise, Joe keeps up without struggle. He's a fast learner, easily following along to your detailed instructions and explanations. Things get messy at times, as one does when baking, but it only causes the two of you to share laughter. Especially when you ‘accidentally’ get flour on each other. For you, it was an accident. His was definitely intentional. 

Still, between the laughter, light conversation, and New Edition serving as backdrop, it’s a sweet moment. 

“And now we wait,” you announce, plopping down on the sofa. “Wrestler by day, baker by night. Who’d a thunk it?”

He chuckles. “I never knew you could cook.”

At that, you nearly choke on the water bottle you’d grabbed off the coffee table. “Me? Cook? No. Not at all. There’s a reason every thanksgiving, my family only asks me to bring the drinks. My mom is the cook. Grandma was the baker. I can make cookies and a few select items. That’s it.”

You can still hear your grandma’s voice in the back of your head, chiding you for never allowing your mom to teach you how to cook. It just never garnered your interest, even when they swore up and down you’d never find a husband without knowing how.

Maybe they were right.

He joins you in the living room, settling on the other end of the sofa. “Maybe I could teach you then.”

His words—and offer—suprise you. “You can cook?”

“Don’t look so surprised.” He rolls his blue eyes. Some days you love the contacts, others you hate them. Today is a love day. They make his beauty even more exquisite. “Because of the big age difference between me and my siblings, it was just me and my mom a lot of times. They were either out and about or had either moved out. She’d ask me to help her out in the kitchen, and I picked up on a couple things.”

“You’re a fast learner.” That much is very obvious, in several areas of his life. “Was it ever hard? Like, not really having them around?”

He seems to think about her question before answering. “Yes and no. The twins moved to Florida when I was like three, and we became close instantly. It was like suddenly having two new brothers. Obviously, they didn’t live with us, so they weren’t always around, and those times were hard, I guess. But the older we got, the more we did together.”

The Usos. Also wrestlers trying to make names for themselves. He really does hail from a legendary dynasty. “I get that. It was just me and my mom, and she worked a lot to support us, so that’s why I spent so much time with my grandma. And I loved it, but sometimes it got lonely not really having siblings.” You look over at him, studying this massive specimen of a man who seems so unsure of himself right now, unsure of his future. He’d hinted at such during their prep, but you bookmarked the comment to revisit. “It’s all gonna work out, you know.”

His gaze is on you, partially disinterested, mostly in disagreement. Joe knows what you're referring to. He chuckles, darkly, “you sound sure.”

“I am,” you counter calmly. Moving to sit on your knees, you continue, “no matter what it takes, you make them respect you. You can do it, and when you finally find your footing, you’ll be one of the best to ever do it. Mark my words.” 

You’ve never been one to build up false hopes in anyone, far too familiar with the sting of disappointment. So every word leaving your mouth drips with sincerity. Joe is so much more than a “pretty face” or someone who got lucky by being born into a wrestling dynasty with a golden spoon in his mouth. He’s worked his ass off, you see how he works his ass off, so the last thing you’d want to witness is him become his own worst enemy by getting too into his head.

“You’ll see. They boo now, but pretty soon they’ll be cheering.” Moving to your knees, you lift your arms in a theatrical display. “Roman, Roman, Roman.” You yelp when his strong arms pull you into his lap, legs spread on either side of his thick thighs. “Would you let me hype you up? Like, damn.”

His smile, so beautiful and genuine, warms your soul. His spirits are lifted, and that’s all that matters. Joe’s hands are on your hips, palms massaging you through your shorts. You move your arms around his neck, resting on his strong shoulders “Thank you.”

It’s at this moment, you foolishly allow yourself to wonder. Wonder what it would be like for this to be the norm, for him to always return to your place when he has time off or in between shows. Wonder what it would be like to consistently be this safe space for him, to be in his corner and not just in the shadows, but in the light. To be supporting him ringside. To be his.

And for a second, you pretend. You pretend that you are his, and he’s yours. That this is your man, and you’re his girl. Just the two of you. Nobody else.

But the comedown from that is devastating, like a boulder sitting on your chest, a butcher knife to your heart. Because he isn’t yours. He never was, and he never will be. 

Mood sullen, you lower your arms to separate yourself. “I should…” You clear your throat, climbing off of him. The air is suddenly too stuffy, the room too small. You need space. “I should go check on the cookies.” 

Joe’s not stupid, far from it. You know that he has to pick up on your 180 in mood, yet he doesn’t pursue you, doesn’t ask questions, and you’re thankful for that. You need to not be around him right now, not so close, not so connected, not so in love.

You need to let him go. ________

“I can’t do this anymore.” 

Joe’s in the midst of sliding his shirt over his head, sitting on the edge of the bed when your voice, low and quiet, stops him mid movement. “What?”

“I said.” You blow out a big breath, unsure why your chest suddenly feels so heavy. “I can’t do this anymore.”

At that, he angles his body so that he can look at you, assess your face. He’s a big eye contact person. “What are you talking about?”

Irritation piques. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Joe.” Gesturing between the two of you, you kick the blankets off and quickly reach for your t-shirt that got discarded last night. Being naked in front of him suddenly feels uncomfortable. “This. It’s done.”

He pauses for a second and then shakes his head, resuming his dressing. “Okay.”

His tone is dismissive, like he doesn’t believe you. Like he thinks you’re playing around. Of course he would be in one of those moods, where he’s more irritable, less receptive and fucking stubborn. “I’m serious.”

“I’m not doing this shit with you right now.” Joe gets up and continues dressing himself, prompting you to climb out of bed and move in front of him. 

He can’t avoid his way out of this. You won’t allow it. It’s time to finally rip the bandaid off. 

You’ve sat on this for the last two weeks, since he last left your apartment and you realized you’d stupidly allowed yourself to fall for this man. Fall for a man who walks around with a wedding ring on his left hand, who’s always had that wedding ring from the moment you met him. You’re not upset with him, not as much as you’re upset with yourself.

You grew up the product of an affair, felt the stinging pain of being rejected by a parent whose selfishness resulted in the creation of life, a life he wanted no part of. Seen how your mom literally begged your piece of shit father to be in your life, to play some role. Heard how he cruelly rejected her, rejected you, calling you your mother’s bastard. A mistake.

It devastated you so deeply that you still can’t really talk about it without getting emotional. 

And yet, you idiotically found yourself playing the same role you used to judge your mother for: the other woman. 

It’s a role you stepped in, and one you must now step out of.

“There’s nothing to do.” You run your hands over your face and shake your head. Choosing to have this conversation at almost 4 o’clock in the morning probably wasn’t the best move, but you also know that if you give yourself more time, you’ll find a reason not to do it. And you need to do this. “You have a wife, Joe. A whole ass woman who loves you and would probably let you fuck her just as much as you like to fuck me. Go be with her, and if not her, find someone else, cause I won’t be that for you. Not anymore.” 

You’re not exactly sure what part of what you just said registered with him, but it’s obvious something did by the change of tone he takes. “Where is this coming from?”

“It’s coming from where it should have come a long time ago,” you answer, crossing your arms over your body. “This was never right, and I refuse to partake in it anymore. I won’t be your whore anymore.”

You didn’t expect hurt to flash in his beautiful eyes nor for him to move closer to you, that hurt intensifying when you back away. He can’t touch you. You can’t allow that, because all it takes is only touch, one longing gaze, and you’ll be putty in his hands. This has to end. “Is that really what you think you are to me?”

“I don’t know what I am to you, Joe,” you answer, honestly. It’s something you’ve battled back and forth with for nearly three years. Just what is it about you that keeps him coming back, keeps him in your bedroom, inside of you. At face value, it’s the sexual compatibility between you. Below the surface level though, there’s maybe more. You’ve never allowed yourself to venture there, and you’re certainly not about to right now. You know how you feel about him, but you refuse to really ask yourself how he feels about you. “And truthfully, it doesn’t matter, cause it doesn’t change anything.”

“So, that’s just it?” His voice is wounded, handsome face painted into a mixture of scowl and a frown. “Almost three years, and you want to throw it all away, for what?”

“For what…..Joe, you are married. You have a whole wife at home. Whatever issues you have that cause you to step out, work that shit out. Learn how to be with her. Cause I’m not doing it any more. I—I can’t.” Emotion imbues your voice toward the end, and you hate that shit. You don’t want him to see, to know, how much this has been eating you up as of lately. “I’m gonna be 30 in a few years. I want to be married. I want to have a family. I deserve that, and I’ll never have it as long as I’m messing with you, so I’ve gotta let you go.” You swallow the deep lump in the back of your throat. “And you’ve gotta let me go.” 

This time, this time you can see the part that wounds him, that digs into his chest. You’ve gotta let me go. 

Joe is fast, fast enough to move directly in front of you, large hands holding your face. He says your name, desperate almost. “Tell me what to do, tell me what you want, and I’ll do it. Just….” He stops, and you close your eyes, refusing to see if it’s his own emotions coming up. You can barely handle your own cascade of feelings right now and refuse to take on his. “I can’t lose you.”

What you want…..

What you want is for him to never leave. What you want is for him to stay with you, to be with you. What you want is for him to have never met Jadah, never married her, never committed his life to her. 

What you want is for him to be yours and only yours, but what you want….is also what you can never have. 

“I—I want you to leave, Joe.” The words burn your lips, scorch your throat, ache your soul. “And this time….don’t come back.”

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, to see the result of your heartbreaking, even if honest request. It’s because you know seeing him hurt will only cause your resolve to crumble, and you can’t have that. You have to be strong, have to be the woman your mother couldn't.

So, you remain there, remain silent as he steps away from you, his touch vanishing. There’s such an emptiness in his wake.

It’s only when you hear the front door of your apartment shut that you finally feel it, the caving of your stomach, the heavy lump move from the back of your throat, the release of the loud sob you didn’t realize you’d been keeping at bay. 

It’s when you finally allow yourself to feel all of the emotions of a woman who just told the only man she’s ever loved to leave. 

If only you knew his departure was just the beginning of the rest of your life.

[gothcsz]

Dusk | No outbreak!Joel x Fem!Reader | ~8.2k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You become a park ranger at a national park in California after breaking up with your ex. You meet Joel Miller, the chief ranger there, and find yourself absolutely smitten over him.

Tags: smut, attempted assault (not by joel), unprotected p in v sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), no use of Y/N, reader is a professor, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: i wrote this during a long car ride in my notes app so i’m NAWT liable for any mistakes xoxo this is also my first attempt at writing joel so i hope i did our man justice 😋

You’ve always been an outdoorsy person. Girl scout as a child, camp counselor in your teens, camp manager in your twenties— and not to mention the plenty of solo camping trips you’ve taken and the amount of hikes you’ve trekked.

Then there’s your full time job as wildlife biology professor in New York.

Being out in nature is the only time you ever feel true, serene peace. Who would have thought? It keeps you healthy and entertained. Most of the hobbies you indulge in and skills you have revolve around being outdoors.

Becoming a park ranger had never been part of your plans, per se, but after a really messy engagement that ended with the wedding being postponed indefinitely and then being overwhelmed by your friends and family afterwards; you needed an out.

The offer to become a ranger at a national park in California came at the perfect time. You didn’t hesitate to sign on to the job, especially since it was being offered to you by a long-time close friend you had met online through a Hiking Tips & More! Facebook group.

So you packed as much as you needed and booked your flight from upstate New York to California.

You’d be stationed there for the summer and the pay was decent. Whatever, you weren’t too hung up on that detail since you are financially stable enough to take the pay cut for the next few months.

After going through the motions of getting registered and settling in at the local lodge themed motel, you use an afternoon to just take everything in. You’ve never had the pleasure to visit any of the parks on the west coast so this experience is extra exciting for you.

You’re already prepared yourself to do some birdwatching and to brush up on your botany knowledge.

Before you are assigned a location and station, it’s required for you to attend an orientation of sorts for the new cohort of rangers working for the summer.

The intent is to go over routines and day-to-day tasks. Most of the job you already know from when you got your certification before going to graduate school. You thought you would have the time to become a ranger then, but life had humbled you quickly so the certification was never put to use.

Until now.

It’s around 7 in the morning when you arrive to the meeting room at the national park. Others linger around but you make a beeline towards the coffee machine; absolutely needing your caffeine fix for the morning.

Definitely don’t forget to bring that with you. You went quite feral without caffeine— god forbid any man, or bear, come across you before you’ve had your cup of coffee.

You fix the drink as you always take it, realizing you’ve just emptied what was left in the glass container.

Not wanting to be the asshole that left everyone else with no coffee, you rummage through the cupboards until you find the container with the grounds and you brew more, doing your good deed for the day.

Blowing against the mug before bringing it up to your lips, you savor the taste and let out a content hum.

“Was that the last of it?”

Your attention immediately flits up at the sound of the deep, southern drawl that’s like honey to your ears.

Before you stands a unit of a man: tall, broad— rugged. He’s obviously older, the salt and pepper colors of his hair and beard complimenting both smile lines and frown wrinkles on his face.

Oh, he’s handsome as hell.

“U-Uh no— yes… Well I just put more in. Should be ready soon.” You flash him a small smile, mentally kicking yourself for stuttering like a fool. Suddenly, you’re aware of how unflattering the park ranger uniform looks on you.

He can’t say the same, clearly, since the collared shirt hugs him snugly across his triceps and shoulders, stretching across the broadness of his chest. There’s a few pins attached to his front, and that’s when you catch the golden glint of his metallic name tag.

J. Miller

He just nods in response, his gaze fixated on you, “I recognize most people here.… but not you. This your first rodeo as a ranger?”

Now it’s your turn to nod, “Yes, but not my first rodeo in the field. I got my certification a few years back but never got the chance to use it.”

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the smell of the fresh brewing coffee hitting your senses. “Ah— I see. Figured you were new. I woulda definitely remembered a pretty face like yours.”

This has you blushing, hard, and biting down softly on your bottom lip. You can’t remember the last time someone had so openly flirted with you like this.

Your asshole of an ex-fiance quit complimenting you shortly after getting engaged. Come to think of it, most of the problems and red flags started happening after you got the ring on your finger.

Ugh, focus! You scold yourself. You have an attractive, out of your league man flirting with you and you’re here thinking of your shitty ex.

“Thank you. I think I would have remembered a face like mine, too.” You’ve never been good at receiving compliments, so you do what you do best and use humor to navigate the conversation.

He chuckles and immediately you’re wanting to hear more of that sound. It’s deep yet comforting and now you’re wondering if you’re being a weirdo for being attracted to a man’s laugh (amongst other things) like this.

You make small talk standing by the coffee machine as more people begin to trickle in. He tells you his name is Joel and that he’s been a park ranger for twenty years and a chief ranger for ten. He has a daughter named Sarah who’s in college further down in the state and you can tell just how much he cares about her by the way he dotes on her.

No mention of a wife or girlfriend, though. You don’t see a band on his finger… there’s no way this man is just walking around single like this.

In return, you tell him your name and some of your background (sans the trainwreck engagement) and he’s fascinated by the fact that you’re a professor.

His interest in you has butterflies fluttering in your stomach and it doesn’t help that he’s got the sexiest little Texan accent you’ve ever heard. Each word sending you deeper and deeper into this crush that has blossomed seemingly out of nowhere for a man you’ve just met.

Amidst the conversation that flows naturally between the two of you, there’s an aura of flirtation and attraction that the both of you seem to be reciprocating. Or at least you are. Hopefully you’re not reading this wrong.

Please don’t let me be reading this wrong.

It’s not until you both have finished your coffee that everyone arrives and he has to excuse himself.

Apparently he’s leading the orientation.

The entire time he’s giving his presentations and demonstrating safety procedures, you can’t help but ogle him.

He fits this career so well with how carries himself. Confident, steadfast, knowledgeable, fucking sexy. You just want to run your fingers through his curly, thick hair and tug on it while you ride the daylights out of him.

This sudden intrusive thought has you clenching your thighs together and that’s enough to get your focus back on the meeting and not how you want him to demolish you.

His forearm flexes, the veins protruding, as he demonstrates how to tie a tight and secure knot; his fingers moving dexterously against the rope.

Damn your dry spell and this attractive ass man.

The orientation concludes with everyone getting their assigned areas and tasks. Your folder is labeled 125.

“We’re on a two week on two week off schedule. You’ll spend two weeks manning your station before there’s a shift change. Daily tasks will be given during mornin’ check-ins along with any other pivotal information. Each camp has a binder with any additional information you will need alongside a long list of phone numbers and radio codes in case somethin’ goes awry. First shift report back here at 6 sharp tomorrow mornin’. Any further questions can be directed towards me or my partner Tommy.”

“Brother,” Tommy, who has been leaning against the wall this entire time, interjects with a playful grin and this has your brows quirking in both amusement and intrigue. He works with his younger brother. How cute.

“Yeah, yeah. That too.” Though it’s gruff, you can clearly pick up the lighthearted tone in Joel’s reply.

You want to stick around and talk with him some more, but you don’t want to come off as annoying so the second you’re all dismissed— you’re the first to be out of the room.

It’s not till you’re further down the hall that you hear your name being called out and turn to see Joel lightly jogging to catch up.

“I’m not in trouble, am I?” You ask teasingly and you catch the small smile that tugs at his lips.

“Not at all. Just wanted to make sure you were okay with your assignment.” You hadn’t even looked at the folder that he had passed to you during the meeting. It had all the information about your post.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You open the file and see a small map with your area circled in red sharpie. You see the surnames of all the other park rangers littered about on the page; and then you see Miller written by the fire lookout closest to yours.

“I gave you a smaller area since it’s your first time out here and all,” He scratches at his jaw, as if he’s almost nervous to be telling you this, “Once you get the hang of it, which ‘m sure will be in no time, I’ll put ya somewhere more… challengin’.”

It’s sweet, this gesture of his. Easing you into the job. If it had been anyone else, you would have defended your skillset and wit and demanded to be put somewhere ‘challenging’, but since it’s Joel you don’t think twice about it.

“Sounds like a plan. Thanks for this.” You smile up at him as you close the folder and he matches the expression, making him look boyish as his sweet brown eyes catch yours.

“No problem, darlin’. See you tomorrow mornin’?”

Or we can go back to my motel room, get to know each other a little bit better?

“See you tomorrow morning.”

⛰️ 🏕️ 🪓 🐻 ☀️

You finish packing the rest of your things before heading out for your first shift on the job.

Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you straighten out your uniform and fix your neatly braided hair before exiting the stuffy motel room.

You wouldn’t be so hung up on your appearance had it not been for the attractive DILF that’s suddenly overtaken every inch of your mind.

You haven’t stopped thinking about him since meeting him yesterday. He seems so sweet and kind; but also with a ruggedness that makes you wonder what kind of lover he is.

Is he a giver or does he only focus on getting himself off? Does he bite and leave marks? Does he prefer his women being bent over or on top of him?

Yeah, you definitely need to go outside and touch some grass.

This entire experience feels like a new beginning, a chance to reinvent yourself before flying back home and starting the new semester.

Your cab takes longer than expected to arrive at the motel, which in turn makes you late to showing up at the meeting spot.

When you burst through the doors, breathing heavily, your heart sinks at the sight of an empty room and you berate yourself for not allotting extra time for mishaps.

“Thought you got cold feet.”

You jump in your spot and whip around to face the handsome jump scare.

Joel is leaning against the counter on the back wall, arms crossed over his chest making the fabric of his button up shirt stretch obscenely over his toned upper body.

“Can’t be too jumpy out in the woods, darlin’. ‘S how you get got.”

“Fuck— sorry. My cab ran late, which isn’t an excuse for my tardiness but—”

He chuckles with a shake of his head and that has the rest of your words hitching in your throat.

“Relax, s’okay. All is right. Everyone else is already situated out there. Figured I’d hang back in case you showed. Didn’t really think you’d bail. Don’t seem like the type.”

You’re relieved, to say the least, that he’s taking mercy on you despite not liking the fact that he has to.

You’re a professional, running late is out of character for you. Even if it was due to a circumstance you couldn’t control.

You let your shoulders drop, pairing the action with a soft sigh. “Thank you. It won’t happen again. I’m more than ready to start the day.”

He studies you for a brief moment with an unreadable expression and it makes you self conscious. Is there something on my face? Is my hair sticking out somewhere?

“Okay. C’mon, let me drive you to your station.” He pushes himself off the counter and you follow him out of the cabin-styled building and to his ranger truck that has the park’s name printed on it in bold letters.

“Nice ride.” You say as you slide into the cab of the truck, setting your large backpack in the back seat.

He mutters out a brief thanks before starting the vehicle and pulling out into the rocky terrain of the park.

You can’t help the look of awe on your face as you stick your head out of the rolled down window to take in the view.

The picturesque peak of the mountain ranges surrounded by lush greenery is breathtaking and it only makes you more excited to have some alone time in the midst of it all.

What you don’t see, though, is the way Joel keeps stealing glances at you. He thinks you’re so beautiful, especially with how entranced you are by the natural setting.

You finally make it to the small area of your camp and he helps you settle in to the small structure that’ll be your home for the next two weeks.

It consists of a twin bed, bedside table, a small desk with your equipment on it and a lamp.

Very home-y. You really only got the place for the view.

“Thanks for the ride… and for waiting for me back there.” You tell him, adjusting the backpack strap against your shoulder.

“S’not a problem at all. I’m posted up a few miles north so that makes us neighbors.”

“Well, if I need some sugar or something— I’ll make sure to stop by.” You tease and this gets a chuckle out of him which has your heart soaring.

“Alright, sugar, you radio me or anyone else if you need anythin’’.”

“I will.”

⛰️ 🏕️ 🪓 🐻 ☀️

The first week goes by like a breeze. You spend most of your days hiking around your assigned area to make sure everything is as normal as it can be out here.

You tend to your daily tasks, listening along to your audiobooks. Taking in the scenery. You even find the time to explore some of the various native flowers and plants that bloom here.

It’s peaceful and exactly what you needed.

You come to discover that while you were already attracted to the sound of Joel’s deep, honeyed southern voice; you were even more attracted to it over the distortion of the radio.

Every morning you’re greeted by it during task assignments and when he gives the weather forecast for the day.

Every afternoon you hear it when he checks-in through the walkie talkie.

Every night you hear it when he does roll call to make sure everyone is alright and present.

Those are the only times you’re able to really communicate with him. You’re both so busy dealing with the job during the day then bone tired by night to really make anything out of the attraction that lingers.

And boy does it linger. You’ve never been this worked up over a man… like ever. Even with your ex the infatuation had never been this intense.

The sex with him was fine. Normal. Vanilla. The lovers you had before him were all a variation of the same thing.

So the bar was in hell— literally. That’s probably why you’re so obsessed with wanting Joel Miller to fucking destroy you.

You’re on the way back to your camp for the day when you come across a clearing, four men camping out of various tents.

“Park ranger here. Just making my rounds. Are you guys well?”

You smile politely at them, watching as they eye you up and down then suddenly— you’re feeling uncomfortable in your own skin.

“Better now. You out here all alone, sweetheart?”

You clock the pervy tone in his voice immediately, clenching your jaw but trying to keep an aura of professionalism.

You’re required to carry a gun and a taser, for obvious reasons, but not once did you ever think you would actually have to use it.

Yet with the way these men are staring at you like you’re a piece of meat— you’re really resisting the urge to let your hand hover over the weapon.

“Heading back to my partner now. You guys have a good night.” You lie with a forced smile that pains your lips as you turn from them, wanting to put as much distance between you and them as you can.

No way are you revealing that you are, in fact, alone with the nearest help being miles away.

“Oh c’mon, baby, stay a while.” A different man calls out and you can hear them following after you.

Your stomach bottoms out at the thought of them actually following you all the way back to your camp. Your location is marked on most of the maps that are posted around the area, in case of emergencies, but now you’re hyperaware that they could just go look for it and find you in no time.

Swallowing thickly, you trek forward and continue to ignore their catcalls until suddenly one of them has got a tight hold on your forearm and yanks you back against his chest.

You let out a squeal of surprise mixed with fear. Your only saving grace right now is your giant backpack since it keeps you from being flush against him.

“Get your hands off me!” You struggle against his iron grip, trying to use your free hand to reach for your weapon but he twists the arm he does have in his hold, and it renders you immobile.

You wince at the pain, adrenaline coursing through you as you hear his three other friends join and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what demise you’re about to meet.

You’re so fucking afraid so you channel that fear to kickstart your flight or fight— choosing both as you lift your foot then slam it down harshly against your captors foot.

Thank god for these heavy ass hiking boots.

The hit does enough to loosen his grip on you just enough for you to shimmy out; using the fleeting seconds you have to knee him in the balls before you take off running.

You hear them screaming profanities at you, calling you a “cunt” “bitch” “whore” amongst many other things. They’re relentless as you hear twigs snapping and leaves crushing beneath their running footsteps.

Your backpack is hindering you at this point so you unbuckle the straps that run across your chest and discard of it quickly, changing course to try and throw them off your trail.

You don’t know how long you run or where you run to, now completely lost as the last hint of sunlight disappears behind the mountains.

You don’t hear anyone chasing after you anymore but you’re not stupid enough to stop and check, so you do the next best thing which is to change your route again before finding solace behind a Giant sequoia tree.

Taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart, you slowly peek around the hefty trunk to see if they were still chasing after you.

They’re not.

Allowing yourself to feel relief, you lean back against the tree and close your eyes to keep the tears away.

Don’t cry— not now. You’re not completely out of the woods yet… ha!

You shake your head at your conscience, hands shaking as they reach for your walkie talkie to seek the help of the only man you want around you right now.

“Call to 121 from 125. Over.”

“121 to 125 on frequency 9. Over.”

You switch frequencies and immediately break procedure once you know it’s just you and Joel on the call.

“J-Joel? Do you copy? Over.”

Immediately he responds, worry evident in his voice.

“What’s goin’ on? Are you okay? Over.”

You take a second to calm down so you can concisely explain your situation.

“I was chased through the forest by a group of campers. I got disoriented, lost my bag, and now I-I’m lost and it’s so dark out. I need you to come find me. Or lead me to you… Over.”

“What do you see around you? Any distinctive characteristics? A trail? Over.”

He’s on high alert, getting methodical and procedural to suppress the rage he feels as your voice garbles through his walkie talkie.

You look around in desperation, flashlight in hand as you try to find anything that’ll pinpoint your location.

Nothing.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you weigh your options. You can walk around until you find something useful or stay put and wait who knows how long for Joel or those band of heathens to get to you.

He urgently calls your name through the walkie talkie when you don’t respond in a timely manner and you quickly snap out of your thoughts.

“N-No. Nothing. I’m going to keep walking until I find something. Over.”

“No. You have to stay put. ‘S dangerous out here at night. I’ll come to you. Over.”

“It’s dangerous during the day, too. I’m going. I’ll reach out to you when I find something… over and out.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you turn your walkie off, the batteries were already running low earlier in the day so you have to limit your use on it before you’re left stranded and walkie talkie-less.

There were extra batteries in your backpack… fuck men and their ability to ruin everything.

You walk through the pitch black forest with your chin held high, faking bravery to avoid succumbing to the fear that’s rattling in your bones.

The mosquitos bite at you, insects chirping about, and in the distance you can hear a coyote howl.

If you don’t survive tonight because of men then you won’t survive because of mother nature.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead, your exhaustion slowly catching up to you.

However, your ears perk at a low rumbling noise and your flashlight snaps in the direction in which you think you hear it coming from, your feet carrying you towards the source.

You damn near burst out in tears of joy once you see the large and beautiful waterfall that flows into the river below.

You radio Joel again, skipping the pleasantries and telling him your location.

You plop down on a bench that’s on the trail, overlooking the astounding scenery and finally you let out a sigh of actual relief. What a way to end your first official week as a park ranger.

About twenty minutes later you see his large silhouette booking it towards you, taking in your disheveled appearance once he’s close enough.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, sugar, what the hell happened to you?”

He envelops you in his arms and you finally allow yourself to let a few tears seep out of your eyes and they land on the fabric of his shirt.

His smell, his touch are comforting as all hell and you find yourself melting into his embrace.

You feel safe. Protected.

“Just assholes being assholes. I ditched them, though. Barely. I should’ve been smarter and ran—“

He shushes you as you begin to victim blame yourself, pulling you from his chest so he can get a better look at your figure, trying to see if you were physically hurt.

Thank god you weren’t.

“All that matters now s’that you’re safe and with me, alright? ‘M west of here. ‘Bout a twenty minute hike. Can you make it?”

You can’t help but snort, blushing as his concerned expression flashes with frustration.

You’ve hiked through the Appalachian mountains— you can definitely do a mere twenty minutes. But you understand that he’s just trying to gauge how shaken up you are and is genuinely concerned about you.

“Yeah, I can make it.”

He pulls you into his chest once more and you inhale deeply, taking in his natural musk and how deliciously it pairs with the faintness of his cologne.

“Alright— let’s go.”

His chest rumbles as he speaks and you don’t want to leave the confines of his strong hold but you must. You’re ready to get this day over with.

You spill the details of your hectic predicament on the hike back to the fire tower he is stationed at. You can feel the energy radiating from his broad figure, his anger palpable as you describe the four men who had ganged up on you.

His strong jaw clenches, fists balling at his sides but he remains silent until you’ve finished.

You can only imagine what’s going on through his head… you can’t help but find his irritation alluring.

“If I had to ballpark it, I’d say they were roughly ten minutes north from my station. I know exactly where that clearing is.”

“You’ll stay with me tonight ‘n tomorrow after mornin’ announcements we’ll get back to your neck of the woods ‘n I’ll deal with those assholes myself.”

Your teeth sink in to your lower lip, his statement holding so much conviction that it makes your clit throb.

Then it sinks in: you’re staying the night with him… and you’re all sweaty and gross from the long fucking day you’ve had.

This would have been a much more enticing, ripe, and overall erotic scenario had today’s event not transpired.

“Not trying to sound pampered or anything but do you mind if I shower?”

“How on earth does that make you pampered? ‘S a shower, darlin’, and after the day you had today you need one.”

“You saying that I stink?”

“If the shoe fits…”

You elbow him softly as you both chuckle, not even realizing that you’ve gravitated closer towards one another.

Unlike your station, the fire lookout tower is much bigger and it sits higher up on the mountain. Large windows run all around the structure giving whoever’s inside a full 360° view of this side of the forest.

It’s absolutely stunning. You can only imagine how it looks during the day.

You look out from your spot on the wraparound porch as he unlocks the door then beckons you inside.

Yeah, this place is much nicer than yours. Probably because fire lookout shifts are usually more long term than normal park ranger ones.

There’s a small bathroom— with a shower—- in the far corner, along with a bed and some other miscellaneous furnishings.

Maybe you can sell your old place and move up here. The view is much nicer, anyways.

You laugh to yourself, lost in your own inner monologue and Joel looks at you funny.

“You good?”

Embarrassed slightly, you just nod. “Yeah, just a long day.”

His warm eyes convey the message ‘I understand’ and you instinctively smile.

“Sooo about that shower…”

“Uh, yeah, help yourself. Everythin’ you need should be in there. We get hot water up here so that shouldn’t be an issue. Holler if you need anythin’. Imma try ‘n find you somethin’ to wear.”

You thank him softly, trying not to look too desperate for a hot shower as you cross the room and close the bathroom door behind you.

Letting the shower run, you begin to strip from your clothes, cringing at how grossly and sticky you feel from sweating your ass off all day.

You feel all the tension leaving your body as you step beneath the shower head and the hot droplets of water hit your skin.

You swear this is the best shower you’ve ever taken. Why? Because you peeped Joel’s toiletries in there and decided to use his body wash and shampoo so now you smell like him.

There’s three rhythmic knocks at the door followed by his deep voice.

“Found some clothes. Can I come in ‘n put ‘em by the sink?”

You swallow thickly. Despite there being a shower curtain separating the two of you, you feel nervous about him coming in while you’re naked.

Not because of him but because of you. He’s got you all riled up without even knowing it.

“Or I can leave ‘em out here?”

“It’s fine, Joel, you can come in.”

There’s a hesitant pause before you hear the door opening, then his large shadow passing through and setting the small pile of clothes by the sink.

His eyes fall to the floor where you’ve left your heap of dirty clothes, seeing the feminine printing of your pink underwear peeking from below the khaki material of the shorts you’d been wearing. The matching bra not too far away.

He’s fucked— unbelievably fucked.

Joel hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you first met. Your smile unlike anything he’s ever seen before, your eyes a shade that makes him want to get lost in them forever, your voice a tune he wants stuck in his head all the time.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and that’s quite the statement considering he’s surrounded by breathtaking sights all the time.

He’s crushing hard despite only barely knowing you for a week.

Then there’s that underlying, primal tension that simmers when you get too close. So it doesn’t help that’s he’s getting an eyeful of your discarded garments then is aware that you’re fully naked, smelling like him, on the other side of the shower curtain.

He stands in front of the shower, half tempted to just yank back the material and join you, fully clothed, just to fuck you against the wall.

No, he can’t think like this. Especially after the day you’ve had.

So he pushes those salacious thoughts away before leaving without saying a word.

You held your breath during the entirety of that silent and brief moment there.

You could feel his hesitation, really, and mentally yelled at him to give in to the temptation and have his way with you right here in the shower.

But he doesn’t hear you, obviously, and you begrudgingly finish your shower after he leaves.

You re-enter the main room dressed in an oversized national park tee and a pair of his boxers.

His cock stirs at the sight of you in his clothes and the smell of him on your skin. He has to look away before you catch him staring and label him as a creep.

“S’not much but I made you somethin’ to eat.” He’s at the kitchenette, all the fixings to make a grilled cheese strewn about the tiny area as he holds up a paper plate with your dinner on it.

Your stomach grumbles on cue, as if remembering that you haven’t eaten since lunch.

And just like that shower— the grilled cheese is the best grilled cheese you’ve ever eaten. Not because you were starving; but because Joel had made it for you out of the kindness of his heart.

Your standards are way too low if you think a man making you a grilled cheese sandwich is the most thoughtful thing in the world.

You two finish up quickly and begin getting situated for bed.

He’s being a gentlemen by giving up his bed to you while he takes refuge in his sleeping bag on the opposite side of the room.

You tried to fight him on it (to no avail) and now you’re both wide awake, laying in silence as the night passes by.

You toss and turn on the small bed, all of the sudden not exhausted like you had been on the walk up here. You can hear Joel shuffling around too and you let out a sigh.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice cuts through the darkness and you shake your head before remembering he can’t see you.

“No. I guess I’m still on go mode after everything.”

“Need anythin’ to help you sleep?”

Yeah, you. Just come over here and fuck me one good time—- I’ll sleep like a fucking rock.

You let out a small whine at the fantasy, your brain pulling cruel tricks on you as images of him tying the rope into a knot flash through your mind… they’re suddenly distorted and now he’s tying your wrists to the bedpost with the same adroitness from before.

“Y’okay sugar?”

Too lost in your wet daydream, you hadn’t realized your prolonged silence. Your thighs rub together, your slickness smearing over your folds.

“Just fine.”

Another pregnant pause before you hear him shuffling then his heavy footsteps nearing the bed.

You sit up straight once he’s near, the moonlight pouring in from the large windows cascading over half of his face and he’s got this look in his eyes that make you want to pounce on him.

“Y’sure there ain’t anythin’ I can do to make you feel better?”

His words drip with sensuality, a double entendre that knocks down the last wall of your self control.

“I can think of a thing or two.”

He stands tall over you, your eyes darkened with lust as you look up at him through your lashes.

It’s a ravishing sight, his fingers come down to brush some of your damp hair from your face and his thumb strokes affectionally against your cheek.

“Like what, baby?”

Oh, where do you start? A kiss, right? But you’re eye level with his hardening bulge and taking him down your throat has wetness pooling at your core.

But you really want to kiss him.

“Kiss me, Joel.”

And he does, bending himself over to hungrily smash his lips against yours.

You don’t hold back the whine at the feeling, your lips moving against each others in pure desperation as your tongue swirls around his before licking into his mouth.

You don’t know where this newfound confidence is coming from but you don’t do anything to deter from it.

You continue to make out, hot and heavy, as he crawls into the too small bed with you, pinning your body beneath his as he holds himself up with his strong forearms on either side of you.

Your hands eagerly run all over where you can reach. Squeezing his triceps, tracing down to his chest then digging your nails into his shoulders.

Joel grunts against your lips, breaking away so the two of you can catch your breath. His forehead falls against yours and you smile up at him.

“What you all smiley for?”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re something worth smiling over.”

He chases after your lips again and you’re back to making out like a pair of horny teenagers. Your fingers run along his warm skin beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, feeling how chiseled yet soft he is. You feel some of his chest hair and then you get curious so your hand falls lower until it’s at the band of his sleeping pants.

The hair there is coarser and you salivate at the thought of nuzzling your nose against the patch as you take him fully into your mouth.

Eager to feel his skin pressed up against yours, you tug at the hem of his shirt and he gets the hint, pulling back to discard of it quickly.

You inhale sharply at the sight of his bare torso, much more attractive than the mental image you’d been painting since you met.

“You are so hot.”

He exhales through his nose in a silent laugh before he descend on you again, except this time he doesn’t reconnect your lips.

His hands softly caress your body through his clothes, cupping your breasts and kneading them. This has you canting your head back and arching into his touch, moaning sweetly at how good it feels

“S’all you, gorgeous. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

This has you moaning louder as his fingers pinch your pebbled nipples and you begin rocking your hips against nothing just to relieve some of the pressure that’s built up against your core.

“Joel, please…” You whimper out, wanting him to rip these clothes off you and devour you entirely.

He knows what you want and what kind of man would he be to deny such a pretty little thing of feeling good?

He quickly undresses you and you’re so lost in the moment that you aren’t even plagued with self consciousness.

Every touch, every stroke and caress has you feeling flawless as he begins to kiss at your neck, his pouty lips sucking a small mark beneath your jaw and you hiss his name out of excitement.

His lips continue their assault against your neck before trailing down to your chest and between your breasts.

His large, calloused hand runs up and down your sides before he hooks his fingers under the band of his boxers that you’re currently still in, slowly pulling the fabric down.

“Ya sure about this? We can stop if you want to.”

“If you stop right now I might just kill you.”

He smirks against your chest, letting his curved nose run along the swell of your breast before his tongue darts out to kitten lick at your sensitive nipple.

You shudder and then he’s taking the nub into his mouth, sucking on it before letting his tongue flicker over it repeatedly.

“Oh fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

With your lower half now fully exposed, he massages your thighs and you spread them wider to allow him to rest against you comfortably.

He continues to give your tits attention but now he’s paired it with the sensation of him running his thumb against your obscenely wet slit.

Your hips buck up involuntarily at his touch and he pulls back from your chest to look up at you.

“Be patient, sugar, I promise imma make you feel good.” He husks out, just as turned on as you are, as he turns his head towards your other breast to begin lavishing it in the same attention he’d just given its twin.

His thumb dips between your puffy folds, gathering your arousal before he’s swirling it around your needy clit.

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering close as you allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure of this foreplay. You’ve never been with a man who was this attuned to your body; touching you in all the right places and having you make sounds you’ve never made before.

Your nipple falls from his mouth with a soft and wet pop as his lips trail down your abdomen, kissing the smooth skin along the way.

He reaches your mound, those chocolate brown eyes of his staring up at you as his hands find purchase on the backs of your thighs, spreading you wider for him so his broad frame can fit in between them.

“You’re s’wet, darlin’. Bet you taste fuckin’ sweet too.”

Your fingers reach down to run through his hair, lust blooming in your stare.

“Why don’t you find out?”

He groans, lowering his head until you can feel his warm breath against your throbbing cunt. With your fingers still intertwined in his hair, you tug him closer to you— dying to feel his touch where you need him most.

Usually, Joel would drag this out more. Tease you until you’re a puddled mess and begging for him to take you however he pleased.

But he’s drunk on you. His mind clouded with nothing but the vision of your naked body sprawled before him and your sheer eagerness to use him to get off.

It’s hot and exhilarating— which is why he wastes no time in attaching his mouth to your pussy, groaning as your arousal floods his mouth.

“Oh my god!” Your back arches off the bed, grip on his curls tight as he begins to eat you out like a starved and barbaric man.

His tongue flicks across your clit one, two times before exploring the rest of your cunt. The wet noises coming from his ministrations echo through the room and they only spur you further into your orgasm.

“So fuckin’ sweet, baby. I could die a happy man right in between these beautiful legs.”

Joel kisses and nips at your inner thighs before diving back in. His tongue flattens against your cunt as he takes long, broad swipes before his lips wrap around your sensitive nub and he sucks on it. Harshly.

A scream of pleasure rips from your throat at the action, hips moving against his face as his nose bumps against your clit when his tongue moves down to plunge into your tight hole.

He licks the inside of you, allowing you to rock your hips as your stomach tightens with your climax not too far away.

Sensing this, Joel brings two of his thick fingers up to your core, lubing them up with your wetness before he slides them in. The slight burn from the stretch is enough to have you seeing fucking stars.

“Just like that Joel please don’t stop.”

You don’t care if you sound needy or desperate— the whole reason you’re here in California is to experience something new and to forget about how shitty your romantic life has been in the past.

Joel’s doing an amazing job making you forget, his rough fingers pumping in and out of you as his mouth kisses your pussy.

“C’mon baby. I can feel how fuckin’ close ya are, sugar. Let go.”

His fingers curl inside you, brushing up against that spot that has you cursing out a litany of expletives as you clench around him tightly and cum harder than you ever have in your entire life.

Your fingernails dig into his scalp, grounding you as your orgasm quite literally has your soul leaving your body.

Your release coats his digits, mouth, and jaw as he eats you out through it. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to catch your breath, twitching at the oversensitivity between your thighs.

“Did so good, baby. Look so fuckin’ pretty comin’ undone like that.” He mutters against your ear, once again hovering over you before your mouths meet in a passionate kiss.

You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and it’s enough to spark another flame of arousal in your lower belly. Your legs wrap around his waist as his painfully hard erection presses up against your freshly fucked cunt.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel, please.” Your nose brushes up against his, giving him your best fuck me eyes in which he has no choice but to comply.

He shimmies out of his sweat pants, his swollen cock bouncing slightly as it’s exposed and your eyes widen as you look down to see just how fucking big he is.

Oh fuck, is it even going to fit?

“You okay, babygirl?”

You nod, eagerly. “Better than okay. I can’t wait to feel you inside of me.”

Your hand comes down to stroke him a few times, loving the way he groans out your name before swatting your hand away.

“Fuck— wait. I don’t have a condom.” He mutters and you quickly pull him down to you before he shifts away from between your legs.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill and haven’t been with anyone in months.”

You have no problem with him going in raw, you actually prefer it since you want to feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he pounds into you.

However; if he’s been giving it out to the masses then maybe you should reconsider letting him fuck you… but he doesn’t seem like the type to whore out like that and you pray that’s the case.

“Me either. ‘M clean ‘n I don’t get much action out here.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He laughs, actually laughs in your face and you can’t help but find this moment endearing.

“M’gonna have to instill some patience into ya, sweetheart. You’re a needy little thing.”

There’s a snarky reply on the tip of your tongue but it dies there as he sinks into you, the bulbous head of his cock stretching you out deliciously as your fleshy walls flutter around him.

“Fuck,” You both groan out in unison, relishing in how good it feels to be lost in each other like this.

He hasn’t bottomed out yet and you already feel so full.

“So big, Joel.” You purr out, feeling him twitch inside of you at the praise.

He rocks his hips into yours, finally burying himself fully inside of your cunt and you whimper at the feeling.

He stills, letting you adjust to his ginormous fucking cock, whispering sweet words into your ear as he peppers soft kisses against your neck and shoulder.

“You can move now. Please.” You roll your hips, crying out like a pornstar when the head just barely brushes against your cervix.

“Oh sugar you’re gonna have to keep those noises to yourself if you want to enjoy this for longer than two strokes.”

It makes you giddy knowing you have such an effect on him.

“Can’t help but express how good it feels.”

His hips cant back, cock sliding through your wet walls as he begins to thrust back into you. His movements start slow and patient, but once there’s enough of yours wetness coating the both of you; he readjusts you on the small bed and begins to set a ruthless pace.

“Yesyesyes, oh my god just like that!”

He sits back on his haunches, meaty hands gripping onto your hips for dear life as he fucks you harshly, the rusted springs of the bed crying out at the harsh movements.

“Play with your tits, baby, show me how much you like bein’ fucked like this.”

Not needing to be told twice, your hands come down to do as instructed; twisting and pulling at your nipples which heightens your arousal even more.

They bounce against your hold as he screws you with all the passion in the world. You’re hoping his rough touch against your hips leaves bruises. It’d be a lovely memory of this moment and how it’s not just a dream you’re having.

The sound of skin slapping against skin mingled with your respective sighs and moans of pleasure swirl around in the air, both of your bodies glistening with sweat from your coital activities.

He looks so sexy over you like this, the curls at the base of his neck sticking to his skin with sweat, eyes focused on your folds as your pussy stretches each time he fucks into you, tongue just barely peeking out between his lips in concentration.

You want to feel his lips on you as you cum for the second time tonight, so you reach for him and whine out his name and he happily complies, leaning over and crashing his lips onto yours.

Your tongues intertwine and you nibble on his lower lip as his hands move your legs to rest over his shoulders.

The change of angle is enough to topple you over the edge, and you cum with an aggressive shout of his name followed by your nails raking down the taut skin of his back.

His thrusts don’t relent as he continues to fuck you, and you’re too disoriented and caught up in pure bliss to do anything about it.

“Mmm baby cum inside me. I want you to fill me up and paint my walls with your cum, Joel, pretty please.”

You use that tone again, the porny one that had him almost coming prematurely. You pair it with a tight squeeze of your walls and that does it.

His thrusts stutter and he grunts huskily against your neck as he fills you up with his spend. You play with his hair as he comes down from his own climax, placing kisses against the crown of his head.

You both lay in a comfortable silence, him still buried inside of you while he holds himself up on his forearms.

“That was amazing.” You’re the first one to breach the quiet, “But I’m gonna need you to let my legs down. I don’t want to cramp folded up like a lawn chair like this.”

He chuckles against your sweaty skin, placing a kiss to your jaw before he pulls back and tentatively moves your legs off of his broad shoulders.

Joel pulls his cock out of you and you shudder at the loss, feeling his cum slowly dripping out and down your slit.

“Such a pretty sight.” He mumbles, bringing his fingers down to collect some of your mixed release before pumping it back inside of you.

You whine in protest, “Joel she’s sensitive. She just took one hell of a pounding.”

Though you clench around his fingers, your body contradicts your words.

“S’okay, sugar, I’ll take good care of her.”

And he does, god does he take good care of her and you for the remainder of the night.

[astrojulia]

Tarot Cards as Professions

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Major Arcanas:

The Fool: Work with abroad, connections with imports, language teacher, multinationals, entrepreneur, intern, college student, art major.

The Magician: Entrepreneur, job that needs skill with the hands (acupuncture, hairdresser, artisan), actor, salesperson, influencer.

The High Priestess: Education, especially children, nutrition, psychology, cook, housewife, food engineering, toy factory, fortuneteller, spiritual advisor, librarian.

The Empress: Management, business administration, foreign trade, secretariat, translation, decoration, stay-at-home mom, model, cook, farmer.

The Emperor: Business administration, work related to areas of technological innovation, the military or sportsmen, CEO, tycoon.

The Hierophant: Philanthropic areas, ONGs, religious work, social work, diplomacy, and a degree, journalism, writer, editor, priest, spiritual guru, politician.

The Lovers: Sales area in any sector, tourism, theater, advertising, the arts in general, porn star, stripper, masseuse.

The Chariot: Activities related to transport, cars, the latest technology, chauffeur, mechanic, athlete.

Strength: Aesthetics, physical education and various body therapies, medicine, zoologist.

The Hermit: Teacher, writer, doctor, antique dealer, restorer, librarian, gardener.

Wheel of Fortune: Financial market, exchange offices, casinos, lottery houses, stock exchanges, and areas related to public relations, hospitality, game show host.

Justice: Public jobs, won through competitions, politics, police, with government positions, in the diplomatic area, law, insurance company worker.

The Hanged Man: Nurse, auditor, inspector, porter, secretariat, general assistants, yoga instructor, prison guard, philanthropist.

Death: Doctor, farmer, geologist, business administrator, gardener, accountant, assassin, death row executioner, surgeon.

Temperance: Working with liquids in general or with what is transported in liquid form such as alcoholic beverages, medicines, juices. chemist, chef, food critic, regional or even international traffic.

The Devil: Does not limit the individual to a professional wing, so he can also go to extremes for the desire he has, such as landlord, drug lord, sex trafficker.

The Tower: Social assistance, humanitarian aid, medicine, firefighter, police officer, construction worker.

The Star: Music, painting, sculpture, poetry, cinema, makeup artist, dressmaker, beautician, agent, promoter, sound artist, astronomer, harpist, dealer, meteorologist.

The Moon: Oceanographers, sailors, fishermen, owners of bars and restaurants or nightclubs, artists in general, medium, hypnotist, psychiatrist.

The Sun: Motivational speaker, entertainer, comedian, social relationships, work with the public, artist in general, member of society.

Judgment: Work done at home, connection with the law, lawyer, judge, work with disabled or people excluded from society, social assistance, board member, executive producer, director.

The World: Pharmacist, massage therapist, scientist, teacher, community leader, religious leader or priest, fashion designer, makeup artist, interior decorator.

Wands:

Creative industries such as advertising, marketing, and graphic design.

Entrepreneurship and starting your own business.

Athletics, sports coaching, or physical training.

Outdoor jobs like park ranger or tour guide.

Event planning or organizing.

Firefighters or rescue workers.

Ace of Wands: Entrepreneur, startup founder, motivational speaker, fitness coach, personal trainer.

Two of Wands: Business strategist, project manager, travel agent, international consultant, import/export specialist.

Three of Wands: Sales representative, marketing manager, e-commerce entrepreneur, market researcher, international trade coordinator.

Four of Wands: Event planner, wedding coordinator, party organizer, festival manager, hospitality industry professional.

Five of Wands: Conflict resolution specialist, mediator, lawyer, debate coach, competitive sports coach.

Six of Wands: Public relations manager, spokesperson, social media influencer, motivational speaker, winning athlete.

Seven of Wands: Defense attorney, human rights activist, political campaigner, advocate, civil liberties lawyer.

Eight of Wands: Courier, delivery driver, airline pilot, travel blogger, expedition guide.

Nine of Wands: Security guard, bodyguard, soldier, endurance athlete, self-defense instructor.

Ten of Wands: Overworked entrepreneur, project manager, event organizer, professional organizer, heavy equipment operator.

Page of Wands: Assistant in a creative field, aspiring artist, intern in a startup, social media coordinator, apprentice.

Knight of Wands: Travel journalist, adventure tour guide, professional athlete, race car driver, stunt performer.

Queen of Wands: CEO, business owner, charismatic leader, life coach, influential speaker.

King of Wands: Executive manager, entrepreneur, leadership coach, consultant, director of a creative agency.

Cups:

Counseling, therapy, or social work.

Hospitality industry, including restaurant management and bartending.

Wedding planner or event coordinator.

Artistic fields like poetry, writing, or acting.

Healing professions such as nursing or holistic therapy.

Psychologist or counselor specializing in emotions and relationships.

Ace of Cups: Therapist, counselor, social worker, holistic healer, emotional support specialist.

Two of Cups: Marriage counselor, matchmaker, relationship coach, wedding planner, love psychic.

Three of Cups: Event organizer, party planner, celebratory event coordinator, community organizer.

Four of Cups: Meditation teacher, mindfulness coach, spiritual counselor, psychologist, therapist.

Five of Cups: Grief counselor, trauma therapist, hospice worker, emotional healing practitioner, bereavement support.

Six of Cups: Child psychologist, teacher, daycare worker, children's book author, pediatric nurse.

Seven of Cups: Creative writer, fantasy novelist, imaginative artist, dream analyst, visionary.

Eight of Cups: Travel blogger, adventure seeker, spiritual pilgrim, explorer, wanderlust photographer.

Nine of Cups: Life coach, happiness consultant, gratitude coach, self-help author, wellness retreat organizer.

Ten of Cups: Family therapist, marriage and family counselor, foster care advocate, wedding planner, family mediator.

Page of Cups: Creative writer, artist in training, intuitive healer, aspiring therapist, dream interpreter.

Knight of Cups: Actor, romantic poet, musician, art therapist, love and relationship coach.

Queen of Cups: Psychic reader, intuitive healer, counselor, compassionate caregiver, therapist.

King of Cups: Therapist, counselor, intuitive mentor, emotional intelligence trainer, psychologist.

Swords:

Legal professions like lawyers, judges, or law enforcement officers.

Journalists, reporters, or investigators.

IT specialists, computer programmers, or hackers.

Teachers or professors specializing in critical thinking or philosophy.

Military or defense-related careers.

Strategic planners or analysts.

Ace of Swords: Lawyer, judge, legal consultant, investigative journalist, strategic planner.

Two of Swords: Mediator, conflict resolution specialist, negotiator, diplomat, relationship counselor.

Three of Swords: Divorce lawyer, grief counselor, trauma therapist, emotional healer, heart surgeon.

Four of Swords: Rest and relaxation specialist, meditation teacher, spiritual retreat organizer, yoga instructor.

Five of Swords: Military strategist, competitive sports coach, lawyer specializing in litigation, debate coach.

Six of Swords: Travel agent, relocation consultant, therapist specializing in transitions, boat captain.

Seven of Swords: Private investigator, spy, intelligence analyst, cybersecurity expert, undercover agent.

Eight of Swords: Social justice lawyer, human rights advocate, disability rights activist, therapist specializing in limiting beliefs.

Nine of Swords: Insomnia specialist, anxiety therapist, nightmare counselor, sleep coach, mental health counselor.

Ten of Swords: Surgeon, coroner, forensic scientist, mortician, grief counselor.

Page of Swords: Researcher, journalist, fact-checker, apprentice in a legal field, investigative reporter.

Knight of Swords: Military officer, police officer, attorney, competitive fencer, conflict resolution specialist.

Queen of Swords: Judge, lawyer, critic, journalist, literary agent.

King of Swords: Judge, attorney, CEO, strategist, military general.

Pentacles:

Financial advisors or investment bankers.

Real estate agents or property developers.

Agriculture, farming, or gardening.

Architects, builders, or construction workers.

Conservationists or environmentalists.

Accountants or bookkeepers.

Ace of Pentacles: Financial advisor, investment banker, wealth manager, entrepreneur, luxury goods retailer.

Two of Pentacles: Financial analyst, accountant, bookkeeper, event planner, stock trader.

Three of Pentacles: Architect, contractor, project manager, teamwork facilitator, craftsman.

Four of Pentacles: Wealth manager, investor, financial planner, asset protection specialist, treasurer.

Five of Pentacles: Social worker, philanthropist, charity organizer, financial counselor, volunteer.

Six of Pentacles: Philanthropist, humanitarian worker, non-profit manager, social worker, charitable fundraiser.

Seven of Pentacles: Gardener, farmer, agricultural consultant, sustainability expert, botanist.

Eight of Pentacles: Craftsperson, artisan, apprentice, skilled tradesperson, technical trainer.

Nine of Pentacles: Luxury brand manager, independent business owner, successful entrepreneur, vineyard owner, art collector.

Ten of Pentacles: Real estate developer, property investor, family business owner, generational wealth manager, financial advisor.

Page of Pentacles: Intern, student, apprentice in a practical field, aspiring entrepreneur, entry-level employee.

Knight of Pentacles: Accountant, financial planner, farmer, skilled tradesperson, meticulous worker.

Queen of Pentacles: CEO, business owner, property developer, hospitality industry entrepreneur, financial advisor.

King of Pentacles: CEO, business mogul, successful investor, high-level executive, financial consultant.

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Born For It | Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Enter: Rich-boy!Gaz who was never born into wealth, but rather, born for it.

Thankfully, his blagging skills were never subpar, as convincing the wealthiest blonde bimbo at a conference in Fort Lauderdale would have proved tricky had he not mastered the art of running his delicious mouth. It was, in his own words, piss-easy to convince the woman he was 'in love with' that he was, in fact, a very well-off, well-known auditor for numerous major tech companies, and he was, additionally, all too talented at forging the paperwork for a 2024 Kia Stonic in cerulean blue – that certainly did not cost him a month's worth of groceries to rent for two weeks – to prove that it was truly all his. And, goodness, thank the creator that his father was so devoted to owning three gorgeous, pin-striped Italian suits before he passed, otherwise he would have nothing prim and proper to wear on their first, second, third, fourth, and fifth dates! Well, before he devoured her on her velvet couch and stole her hand in marriage, of course.

Naturally, he takes to the role of pompous, spoilt, entitled husband like a moth to a flame, as he has an inordinate ability to stretch the truth with his long Ralph Lauren fleeces tucked at the elbows, VVS diamond-studded watches, and tinted Versace sunglasses.

Oh, but don't be fooled by the crass social act: the man knows a con artist when he sees one.

He doesn't spend long at the country club with a glass of red in hand, talking to Brian and James and Marcus and their wives Tiffany, Tiffany 2, and Tiffany 2.5, respectively, about the recent tax evasion scandal from Johnsons and Co. (and how they all might do it better without getting caught) before he spots you across the outdoor pool on a sun chair: the young, recently wed beauty with ample time left on your wrist to be doing anything with your life other than seduce poor, geriatric, twice-divorcée, once-widowed, thrice-Viagra'd Mr. Shepherd – or, more crucially – the vast riches he carries in those flabby jowls of his, just ripe enough for the taking as soon as that weak heart of his drops him dead in the shower on a cold Tuesday morning, months later.

It's a shame, really, that the old dog didn't put his conversation skills into the will, because it takes Kyle no more than three minutes of ogling to read the smudged guilt and lost desire on your face, and poses, to you, over a kiss on the knuckles and a well-timed whisper into your ear, the question of joining him one day for lunch in his large, supersized, monstrous mansion that hardly gets used by his married-to-her-work-first wife who, herself, would never think of Kyle wishing to screw another woman on the weekends to entertain himself in such a lonely... drab... suburb.

It does perplex you a little a first, especially when you aren't certain why he wants you of all the women at the country club, when every wife, waitress and pool girl would burst open their bras and dangle their naked breasts in his face at just a chance of that silver tongue on their bodies, because he's simply that irresistible.

Though, you do agree. In fact, you have to.

Not only because he knows your golden secret to greed, and has been known to – again – run that scrumptious mouth of his to anyone he can throw under the bus for another grand or two, but because it's clear to anyone that dear-old Shepherd's cock does nothing for a pretty pussy like yours, and you desperately need to cream over his thick, severing, thigh-splitting one until you cum, to make up for all the flab he wiggles in and around your folds at nine in the evening before he conks out in his silk pyjamas – he has to wake up early to catch the morning run of his favourite radio show, don't you remember?

And you wouldn't tell on him even if you could, even if he didn't have his wife's lawyer on speed-dial, due to that legally-binding, twenty-three page contract locked within a safe in your makeup drawer which clearly states that anything of yours from the inheritence – whenever your old biddie shoots the gun, kicks the bucket or collects his final paycheck, that is – is automatically his, too, as well as the properties in Toulouse, the estate in Dubai, the stocks and shares in Google and Facebook that only ever seem to be going up... oh, and that divine cunt of yours he laps up like a starved dog whenever his wife is away.

[chakapriambudi]

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