#national food bank day
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09/01/2023 is National Wattle Day 🇦🇺, Alberta Day 🇨🇦, Ginger Cat Appreciation Day 😺🌎, Knowledge Day 🇷🇺, National No Rhyme (Nor Reason) Day 🇺🇲, National College Colors Day 🇺🇲, Cherokee National Holiday 🇺🇲, National Food Bank Day 🇺🇲, CNS Week
#national wattle day#alberta day#ginger cat appreciation day#knowledge day#national no rhyme nor reason day#national college colors day#cherokee national holiday#national food bank day#cns week
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National Food Bank Day — Will be Celebrated on 2nd September 2022
National Food Bank Day– This year 2022, will be celebrated on Friday, September 2nd! Food Banks also play a vital role in preventing food waste. So to recognize the contribution of food banks and the employees who gave their time for this cause. We annually observe National Food Bank Day.
The day is very good for celebrating all charitable organizations. And volunteers who work tirelessly to end hunger and ensure that no one goes to bed hungry.
The main role and contribution of food banks are crucial. Because they ensure that food is distributed to those in need and prevent food from going to waste. You can participate in a variety of activities to support national food bank day. And awaken more and more people nearby living with you.
You can simply donate some of your income to eliminate hunger from the nation and the world and be a part of saving the world from hunger and if you did that so will feel so amazing.
It is the easiest but most effective approach to encourage young people to volunteer and support organizations that are trying to end hunger. This could be also done by simply posting about the day on social media.
Read More- National Food Bank Day
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September 2, 2022 - NATIONAL V-J DAY – NATIONAL COLLEGE COLORS DAY – NATIONAL FOOD BANK DAY – NATIONAL LAZY MOM’S DAY – NATIONAL BLUEBERRY POPSICLE DAY – NATIONAL CHIANTI DAY
September 2, 2022 – NATIONAL V-J DAY – NATIONAL COLLEGE COLORS DAY – NATIONAL FOOD BANK DAY – NATIONAL LAZY MOM’S DAY – NATIONAL BLUEBERRY POPSICLE DAY – NATIONAL CHIANTI DAY
SEPTEMBER 2, 2022 | NATIONAL V-J DAY | NATIONAL COLLEGE COLORS DAY | NATIONAL FOOD BANK DAY | NATIONAL LAZY MOM’S DAY | NATIONAL BLUEBERRY POPSICLE DAY | NATIONAL CHIANTI DAY
NATIONAL V-J DAY | SEPTEMBER 2
On September 2nd, National V-J Day (Victory over Japan Day) recognizes Allied Forces’ victory over Japan during World War II. Officials announced the surrender of Japan to the Allies on…
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#family#Fans#hungary#Italy#Japan#job#National Blueberry Popsicle Day#National Chianti Day#National College Colors Day#National Food Bank Day#National Lazy Mom&039;s Day#National V-J Day#parents#Red#September 2#students#Summer#Treat#Tuscany#Victory#Wine#WWII
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I already hated veteran's day but I hate it even more now bc payday was Yesterday but I still don't have my fucking paycheck bc shitass Respect For The War Criminals 🥰❤💕💕
#speculation nation#i wanted to get GROCERIES today and like i guess i could but that would get me far closer to zero than i ever prefer to be#so thanksssss america for your bullshit 'holiday' and the fact that banks r fucking closed on that day#out of respect for the veterans YOU will go hungry!!!!#that sounds like america ngl#it's not like im going to actually go hungry but im nearly out of all my easy to prepare foods#aka. i might as well be starving.#ughhhhh... guess ive got to figure Something out now...#ive just been lying in bed for the past 12 hours or so. as is my right.#but i got shit to do... and the first order of business... is breakfast 😒
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A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.
So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.
Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.
When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.
One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"
He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."
And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.
I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.
So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.
Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.
But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?
All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.
I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.
This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.
In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.
One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.
Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.
Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."
In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.
On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.
In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.
#riki babbles#I had this in my drafts for ages and I was like 'not the time' but a friend encouraged me to share so here it is#palestine
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also it's very iconic of us as a fandom to not know precisely how much money tony has.
like... yes. he has much money. that is as far as our knowledge goes.
#all these tony povs going “he could run his own country if he wanted to”#“he could probably buy every fast food in the nation and not notice the hit to his bank account”#boxing day blues by peacockgirl#ao3
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By Kitty Werthmann
“I am a witness to history.
“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history.
If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching.
“We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls.
She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers.
“Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.”
No so.
Hitler is welcomed to Austria
“In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates.
Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs.
“My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’
“We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living.
“Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back.
“Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler.
“We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and
everyone was fed.
“After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service.
“Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been re- quired to give up for marriage.
“Then we lost religious education for kids
“Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education.
“Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.”
And then things got worse.
“The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free.
“We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had.
“My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination.
“I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing.
“Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler.
“It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy.
“In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death.
“Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men.
“Soon after this, the draft was implemented.
“It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys.
“They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines.
“When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat.
“Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service.
“When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers.
“You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government.
“The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had.
“Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna..
“After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything.
“When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full.
“If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries.
“As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families.
“All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing.
“We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables.
“Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands.
“Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control.
“We had consumer protection, too
“We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it.
“In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated.
“So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work.
“I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van.
“I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months.
“They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness.
“As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia.
“Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily.
“No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up.
“Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.”
“This is my eyewitness account.
“It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity.
“America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away.
“After America, there is no place to go.”
Kitty Werthmann
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Artsakh has been blocked for 2 weeks 100+ days already, 120.000 people are deprived of their human rights, many of them are children. Tomorrow is Christmas, and on this very special holiday consider supporting indigenous christian nation by donating to good causes.
After 9 months of total blockade and after heavy shelling by the fascist dictatorship of Azer/baijan, the population of around 120.000 indigenous armenians had to flee Artsakh. Armenia is a small country, its population numbers at just a little below 3 million people - to accomodate more than 100k people, who left everything behind and need to find new places to live and work at, is a heavy task. Consider donating to the charities listed here.
URGENT:
Solar Haghorti - provide hot water to the Haghorti village in Artsakh
Sunrise in Artsakh - solar water heaters for Artsakh (please read the page, donation button is in the text, it's easy to miss)
Greenhouse Project - building greenhouses to overcome the challenges faced by Artsakh’s loss of land after the war as well as the blockade
Greenhouses and Beekeeping for Artsakhi Armenians - help Artsakh families to rebuild their lives in Armenia and create food secure and climate resilient communities
Supplies for Syunik and Beyond - fundraising for the Border Villages in Syunik
Legal Defense Fund for Jerusalem Armenians - help the Armenian Community of the Old City of Jerusalem as it stands in defense of its survival and security
OTHER:
Armenian food bank - food, clothing, medicine
VIVA foundation - doctors and medicine (25% of what I get from my winter commissions will go here)
Frontline Therapists - provides mental health services to Armenian veterans and others experiencing war related trauma
All for Armenia - support vulnerable populations, displaced families and border communities in Armenia
Kooyrigs - aid for those living in areas highly targeted by azer\\baijan
MIASEEN - stability for families in need
LGBTQ+:
Pink Armenia - serves community's needs, protects LGBTQ+ people's rights and pushes for the change of public policy around LGBTQ+ issues
GALAS - supportive network for LGBTQ+ people, promotes their personal empowerment within their communities and helps to build bridges between the LGBTQ+ and Armenian communities
Right Side - community-based rights defender non-governmental organization for the protection of transgender people and sex workers in Armenia
#please boost this!#armenia#artsakh#christmas#i will add to the queue the original donation posts tomorrow#but here's a short compilation. a holiday special.#(early) merry christmas to those celebrating! i won't be online tomorrow so wishing it now#donations
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update** all mods should be good now 🥰
I am keeping an eye on the Scarlet's Realm list so I will continue to update the list and with any new mods I add to my game 💕💕
overrides
Refreshed Main Menu - mine is Glade
Urban Erotica (functional books)
No Tune After Loading
Nap Replacement Mod
Restaurant Default Menu
MyxDoll Fenty Beauty Override
HighSchool Years Textbook Override
Toothbrush override by dsco
Paintbrush Override
The Ultimate Default Underwear Collection by vixonspixels
Paired Selfie (in game photo overrides)
iPhone 12 Override OR H&B Smartphone Override (ONLY CHOOSE ONE)
UNO Card Replacement
Photo replacements (in game)
Pink Build Buy UI
Black Sitcom TV Overrides
San Sequoia Bridge Override
Realistic TV Mod (Reality TV)
Realistic Phone Icons (multiple available on CoCo Games patreon)
Phone Wallpaper Kit OR Phone Wallpaper Override (only pick one)
Control Any Sim
San Myshuno Billboards
PC Game Overrides
CocoGames Video Game Bundle
Starbucks on Campus
My Wedding Stories Engagement Ring Recolours
Stand Still in CAS Poses
Hidden Highlight
Functional Airpods
Hello Kitty Infant Seat
The Missing Plumbob
No zzz (when sim is sleeping)
Towel After Shower
Functional PS5
Black Art Painting Mod
The Sims 2 Font or Life is Strange Font (only pick one)
Gallery Poses (female)
Gallery Poses (male)
Gallery Poses (couple or duo)
Take Off Shoes With Animation
Stop Random Accessories on Townies
Parenthood Recolour - link is at the bottom of the thread
lighting
check my updated lighting mod list here
cas & loading screen
CAS background
Loading Screen Plumbob Replacement OR by pinkishwrld
Minimalist CC Wrench Override
More CAS Columns (I use 5)
Map Replacements Overhaul
I alternate my CAS backgrounds so see below for my fave creators:
- MeekGames
- Ellcrze
- LadySimmer
- SlimmazSimz
- Essemelle
- BougieChloe
- SierraTheSimmer
- Xurelia
- DonavinGames
- NeriSims
food
Somik & Severinka (I use the Realistic Cooking Mod & all others they have)
ONI Custom Food
QMBIBI Stirring the Pot
QMBIBI Thee Kitchen Tablet
Functional Breakfast Cereals
Airfryer
Waffle Maker
Pressure Cooker
gameplay
misc
Computer Side Gigs
Kuttoe Mini Mods: Small Additions
Bed Cuddle
Carry & Kiss
Longer Parties & More Guests
Functional Magazines
Better Social Media Sponsorships
Higher Lifestyle Brand Payouts
QMBIBI Skincare Mod
QMBIBI Express Delivery
QMBIBI BabyCare Overhaul
Online Skills
It’s Movie Time
BabyCare Mod
Basemental Drugs
Basemental Gangs
Celebrate Adoption
Sip & Paint Event
Luxury Real Estate Career
Recipe Notebook
Sulani Events Calendar and Flyer
Functional Personal Care Products
Go For A Jog... Together
Morning Routine
Everyone Can Sleep Together
Spa Day Face Masks From Mirrors
Pole Dance Mod
Online Apprenticeships
Turn the TV on
Ask For Money
UI Cheats
MC Command Center
Self Manicure & Pedicure
Make Functional Perfumes
Shear Brilliance - Active Hairstylist Career
Cute Romance
LOT 51
- Ring Doorbell
- Dust Buster
- Plumbros (heating, plumbing & cooling)
- Alarm Clock
- Simlink (wifi)
High School Years
Fashion Authority KimbaSprite has a tutorial on this mod here
More Classmates
Adeepinigo
I have many mods by this creator, check out their website here
Lumpinou
There is an index on Lumpinou’s Patreon with all the below mods listed, see here
- LGBTQIA+
- Memory Panel Mod
- Open Love Life
- RPO Collection “Realistic & Pregancy Overhaul”
- Science Baby Tweak
PandaSama Childbirth
SimRealist
- Mortem
- Real Estate
- Private Practice
- Sim National Bank
- Sim National Bank Bills
- Sim National Bank Financial Center
SimWithShan
- Cyber Teacher Career
- Homebody Prefences
- Housewife Aspiration
pose player mods (for in game photos)
- Andrew Poseplayer
- Teleport Any Sim
Go to creators for poses & animations:
- KatVerse
- King Black Cinema
- Frxsk0sims
- helgatisha
- AfroSimtricSims
- Gawdly Games
- Hardswae
- Maysbat
- TS4 Poses (tumblr blog)
♡
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10/10/2022 is Finnish Literature Day 🇫🇮, World Homeless Day 🌏, National Kick Butt Day 🇺🇲, National Online Bank Day 🇺🇲, Native American Day 🇺🇲, National Angel Food Cake Day 🇺🇲, National Cake Decorating Day 🇺🇲, National Handbag Day 🇺🇲, National Hug a Drummer Day 🇺🇲, Indigenous People's Day 🇺🇲, World Porridge Day 🇬🇧, World Mental Health Day 🇺🇳, Italian American Day 🇺🇲
#finnish literature#world homeless day#national kick butt day#online banking#native american day#angel food cake#national handbag day#hug a drummer#indigenous people's day#porridge#world mental health day#italian american day
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Yandere!SAGAU x Secret!Creator!Reader Pt 2
Short Summary: Zhongli knows that it’s you and he can’t wait to meet you as the first one to recognize the creator and officially welcome you. (sorry there’s no intense chase yet, sort of a filler chapter)
characters: Childe, Zhongli
warning(s): ooc characters, lowkey degenerate behavior from Zhongli
word count: 1551
Previous | Next
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *.☽ .* : ✧.───
You manage to get home without any interruptions. Grandpa Fuyi, the farmer that took you in, noticed your heavy breathing.
He sat up in his chair, grabbing his cane. Wiping the sweat from your face, you urged him to stay seated.
“I’m alright! I just… saw a few hilichurls on my way back and got scared.”
His grey brows furrowed. “Thank archons you’re alright. It’s dangerous for you to be traveling alone. Why don’t you take a break from selling?”
“About that… I’ve been thinking of traveling.”
Grandpa Fuyi was silent for a bit.
“Did you remember your real family?”
When you had first arrived, you knew it was impossible to tell him that you’re from another world. Instead, you told him that you’re lost and have no recollection of your past.
“I knew you’d eventually want to return to your life before, but I didn’t think it’d be this soon.” He sighed shakily.
“No! That’s not it…”
Your heart breaks seeing the frail man. You can’t possibly leave him alone. But you are scared. You aren’t sure if the geo archon would come searching for you and you don’t want to involve the one person to give you shelter. You think about what your next set of actions are when Grandpa Fuyi speaks after a long strip of silence.
“Will you let me come with you?”
You are frozen in shock. He sees your reaction and continues speaking.
“I know I’m old and it’ll be difficult to travel with me, but I’ve always dreamed of visiting other nations before I pass…”
You pause, weighing out the options in your mind.
“Are you sure?” you ask. “It may be dangerous…”
“I’m sure. As long as you’re okay with it, I’d like to travel the world with you.”
He gives you a smile with such kind eyes that you can’t help but tear up as you hug him tightly. How can you abandon the one person to help you in this unfamiliar world?
The two of you prepare, quite quickly, to leave Liyue. Using your knowledge from your previous world, you create a collapsible wheelchair for Grandpa Fuyi that would make it easy to travel in. The money you made from selling your miracle vegetables is enough for the two of you to travel comfortably and is enough to last a lifetime. With your bags packed and an optimistic smile on your face, the two of you set out to head to your next destination, the land of eternity… Inazuma.
—
Early the next day, before the sun has even risen, Zhongli returns to the stall and sees that it’s not yet open and that the person he has been thinking of all night is no where to be seen.
Feeling that it is quite early, he decides to wait for you to come. He waits until the sun is high in the sky. Then he waits till the sky is purple. Despite standing for a whole day, Zhongli doesn’t move an inch from his spot.
He has to confirm it.
Even with this thought in mind, he knows deep in his heart that it it’s you. He knows that the creator has descended. Zhongli can feel it in his gut and with every fiber of his being. You’re here.
Zhongli waits for days in the same spot, neither eating nor drinking. Passersby’s stare at him as if he’s crazy and some even offer food. Zhongli refuses them all, only one thought in mind.
Creator, creator, creator… where are you?
—
It’s been a while since Childe visited Liyue other than short business trips and missions for the Fatui.
Childe is heading towards Northland Bank when he sees Zhongli, standing as still as a statue next to an empty stall.
He decides to greet him, walking over to the former geo archon.
“What are you up to?” He asks him, seeing the serious expression on his face.
“I’m waiting for someone.” Zhongli’s answers are brief, nothing but determination in his eyes.
Around him, Childe can hear the whispers of the people who pass by.
“That man is still standing there…”
“How many days has it been?”
“Is he even human?”
Childe’s eyes narrow.
What’s so important about this stall that the Geo Archon himself waits days on end for?
His eyes examine the stall closely. Nothing special stands out. However, as he is examining it, he sees a small white handkerchief poking out from behind the stall on the opposite side of where Zhongli is standing.
“Who are you waiting for?” Childe asks as he casually walks over to the handkerchief. “They must be very important for you to be waiting this long.”
Zhongli doesn’t spare him a glance. “A vegetable merchant,” he says simply. Childe rolls his eyes, discreetly picking up the handkerchief and shoving it into his pocket.
“Wow, how informative,” he says sarcastically. “Well I hate to be the one to break it to you, but if you’ve been waiting here for this long, chances are whoever you’re waiting for is long gone.”
Hearing this, Zhongli finally moves. The former geo archon was so absorbed in thoughts about what he’d say and how he’d react when he finally meets the creator that he didn’t realize how long he has actually been waiting.
“You’re right.” Zhongli wastes no more time waiting and leaves to search for them.
“Nice… just leave me hanging, no problem. I’ve been good by the way, thanks for asking!” Childe calls out to him.
As Zhongli walks to each nearby stall, asking for information about the vegetable merchant, Childe pulls out the handkerchief from his pocket.
His eyes scan over it, noticing smears of gold staining the white cloth.
Paint?
His thumb rubs over the smear, noticing that it’s a different texture than the usual paint used in Liyue.
Childe lifts the cloth to his face, taking in a deep whiff. As someone who survived the abyss and the youngest Fatui Harbringer, Childe’s senses are not to be messed with. Though it’s been days, there’s a small scent that anyone else would not have been able to recognize… but Childe, someone who has experienced his fair share of fights, is able to recognize it instantly.
… blood.
The puzzle pieces in his head click together so fast that he’s barely able to react. Childe stares at the cloth as if it’s the most special and rare artifact in all of the land of Teyvat.
A handkerchief with golden blood and the oldest archon guarding a shabby vegetable stall. Childe knows that this could only mean one thing.
The creator has descended.
With his heart beating faster than ever, Childe quickly leaves. He has to let the Tsarista know before Zhongli can find them. Childe smiles giddily, excitement filling his body.
—
After following the directions given to him by the townspeople, Zhongli finds himself in front of the small house you lived in with Grandpa Fuyi.
The wooden boards creak as he steps on the porch. Zhongli cringes, seeing the decrepit state of the small home.
Is this where their beloved creator has been staying?
Zhongli sighs. He will be sure to build you a grand palace for you to live in once he finally meets you.
He lightly knocks on the door with anticipation. A few seconds pass with no response. He knocks a bit harder and waits. After a few minutes pass of complete silence, Zhongli lets himself in.
He walks around the small home, examining it closely. Other than a small living area and kitchen, there are two small rooms. The first room he enters is lightly decorated with a few antiques littered here and there.
Were they living with someone? Zhongli asks in his head…a bit of jealousy shakes his heart. How lucky they must be to have lived with the creator…
The next room he enters is almost completely bare other than a small bed in the corner of the room. Zhongli knows immediately in his heart that it’s your’s.
The creator’s room…
Closing his eyes, he takes in a deep breath, almost as if he’s basking in your presence. It’s like he can feel you…
Zhongli walks over to the bed, sitting on top of it. His hands caress the sheets, feeling the slight roughness of the cloth beneath his fingertips.
This is where the creator slept…
He lifts the blanket up, burying his face into the cloth and breathing in deeply with the nose of a dragon. He can smell you… he pulls away after a few seconds, feeling a bit dizzy.
From what he can tell, it hasn’t been that long since you’ve left. You must be close, he thinks. He smiles with eyes filled of devotion and exhilaration.
It won’t be long before you meet, Zhongli thinks. He awaits the day he is able to kneel before your feet and officially welcome you to the land of Teyvat.
Zhongli finally leaves the small house to follow your trail before it fades. He decides not to tell a soul of his discovery, thinking that it’d be best not to release the news so as to not spark any chaos.
… but in truth… Zhongli wants to be the first one to find you. The first to welcome you and become your most trusted acolyte.
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(sorry guys, i know a lot of you were expecting something big. Honestly, i had no plans to continue this but i randomly had a thought about it and decided to write this. I’ve been so busy and stressed with school so it’s been a while since I’ve had time to write anything. It’s a bit plain but I hope you guys like it! Next chapter will be more intense…probably…hopefully…)
taglist:
@allblognamesaretakenlikereally @kokxm1 @leafinapuddle @probablynoposts @tonightwrites @tiffthescales @dakotali @xxxastridexxx @sparklyphantom @ursinaw @d0rmiens-fact0rem @iruiji @turningmad @moonlilliesinthegarden @java-lava @chihawari @yanderesarentagoodidea @5-stirling-heartstrings @smokey-cat @raingoesboomboom @cheritastic @rugiebugie @thelocal-idiot @minteasketches @pwisoned @blueberryhitosh1 @eliaspspspsp @extremelytoastybread @angelkazusstuff @whinnywhale @thedevioussmirk @ravenswife @goldenglow149 @a-person-with-many-likes @noisychildnut
#yandere genshin#childe#genshin impact#scaramouche#yandere sagau#yanderexreader#zhongli#archons#kunikuzushi#genshin cult au#sagau#xiao#kazuha#yandere#creator#traveler#acolytes#yandere x reader#yandere sagau x reader#yandere zhongli
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October 10, 2022 - WORLD MENTAL HEALTH DAY – NATIVE AMERICAN DAY – NATIONAL ONLINE BANK DAY - NATIONAL WALK TO A PARK DAY – NATIONAL KICK BUTT DAY – COLUMBUS DAY – NATIONAL CAKE DECORATING DAY – NATIONAL METRIC DAY – NATIONAL ANGEL FOOD CAKE DAY – NATIONAL HANDBAG DAY
October 10, 2022 – WORLD MENTAL HEALTH DAY – NATIVE AMERICAN DAY – NATIONAL ONLINE BANK DAY – NATIONAL WALK TO A PARK DAY – NATIONAL KICK BUTT DAY – COLUMBUS DAY – NATIONAL CAKE DECORATING DAY – NATIONAL METRIC DAY – NATIONAL ANGEL FOOD CAKE DAY – NATIONAL HANDBAG DAY
OCTOBER 10, 2022 | WORLD MENTAL HEALTH DAY | NATIVE AMERICAN DAY | NATIONAL ONLINE BANK DAY | NATIONAL WALK TO A PARK DAY | NATIONAL KICK BUTT DAY | COLUMBUS DAY | NATIONAL CAKE DECORATING DAY | NATIONAL METRIC DAY | NATIONAL ANGEL FOOD CAKE DAY | NATIONAL HANDBAG DAY
WORLD MENTAL HEALTH DAY | OCTOBER 10
Annually, World Mental Health Day on October 10th raises awareness and mobilizes efforts to…
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#Artist#Columbus Day#creative#green spaces#History#Indigenous Peoples#National Angel Food Cake Day#National Cake Decorating Day#National Handbag Day#National Kick Butt Day#National Metric Day#National Online Bank Day#National Walk to a Park Day#Native American Day#October 10#Support#WORLD MENTAL HEALTH DAY
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Cassy took his Fucking bell off again
Nightmare kitty >:(
#speculation nation#also i wanted to order food on the company card but it's not workinggggg#im still broke bc the bank hasnt cashed my fucking checkkkkkkk#that was much of the Mood earlier today. not having fucking money despite depositing it days ago#but the bank says it'll be available tomorrow (it BETTER fucking be)#until then. im still broke! and i am running low on food in my apartment :]#im not going to starve. but i certainly am not living it up rn.#maybe i'll make some mac n cheese. my milk might still be good. i gotta check on it
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june 21 is national indigenous peoples day up here in canada; a day focused on celebrating the arts and cultures of our indigenous neighbours and communities.
if you’re looking for ways to support, or generally further your education on indigenous history, here are a bunch of links to help you get started! please go further and look up events hosted by your local community specifically, as some may not be listed on the sites below.
remember that if you cannot attend events or monetarily support businesses - you can always boost indigenous artists and voices online too.
indigenous tourism; lists businesses, events, and other indigenous-owned / led programs for the respective province or territory
indigenous tourism canada [generalized resources, event listings etc]
yukon
northwest territories
nunavut
british columbia
alberta
saskatchewan
manitoba
ontario
quebec
newfoundland and labrador
new brunswick
nova scotia
prince edward island
art
bill reid gallery of the northwest coast
lattimer art gallery
native northwest [while NNW itself is not indigenous-owned, it is a good way to discover artists and purchase their work. some artists sell on other sites too, so look around]
strong nations [sells books by indigenous authors]
education and resources
two-spirited people of manitoba
alberta indigenous history timeline [pdf]
alberta indigenous history resources
british columba history timeline
list of first nations peoples [wikipedia; could be incomplete / inaccurate]
cbc indigenous [indigenous-focused news]
missing and murdered indigenous women and girls
national centre for truth and reconciliation
native land interactive map
orange shirt day
qikiqtani truth commission
lil’ red dress project
whose land interactive map
charities / support / donations
clan mothers healing billage & knowledge centre
first nations health authority
indian residential schools survivor society
indigenous peoples resilience fund
qajuqturvik food bank
niqinik nuatsivik nunavut food bank
nunavut food security coalition
reconciliation canada
urban native youth association
additional links are always appreciated
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Hard Reset XI
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader
Warnings: 18+ / Smut / Fluff / Angst
Description: This chapter covers the week 9 win against the Bills and the week 10 loss against the Texans with a couple of flashbacks thrown in.
Time/Place: Tuesday, Nov. 7, 2023 - Tuesday, Nov. 14, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio (with flashbacks to New Orleans & NYC)
A/N: This is the eleventh fic in the Hard Reset series.
This chapter got totally out of hand, y'all. It jumps around a bit due to the flashbacks, so I hope it's not too hard to follow. It's also long as hell even though I tried to condense it as much as possible.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You close your eyes and tilt your head back, a proud smile gracing your lips as a blizzard of purple and gold confetti rains down on you from the roof of the Superdome in New Orleans.
"He did it," you whisper, brushing away happy tears as you return your attention to the field where Joe and his LSU teammates are celebrating one of the most impressive undefeated seasons in college football history. You take a deep breath and exchange hugs and high fives with everyone around you, never taking your eyes off of Joe for more than a few seconds while you wait for him to hoist the Championship trophy.
~
A month ago, you watched him hoist another trophy, the Heisman, at a ceremony in NYC. It was the largest margin of victory in the history of the award, and his speech was still being talked about. You knew the exact moment he went off script because he'd practiced the speech with you over and over, nervous that he'd forget to thank someone or somehow embarrass himself. Instead, he spoke from the heart and delivered an emotional Heisman speech that folks will be talking about for years to come. The impact of his heartfelt words -- bringing attention to the high poverty rate and food insecurity in Athens County -- was evident in the amount of donations pouring into the local food bank. The Joe Burrow Hunger Relief Fund was just getting started but showed no sign of slowing down anytime soon.
Joe was surprised at the outpouring of support, but it wasn't the only time he spoke something into existence. He spoke this Natty into existence when he transferred from Ohio State to LSU; from day one he told his new teammates that all they had to do was work harder than everyone else and the results would follow. He led by example, as always, first to arrive and last to leave, never asking for more effort from others than he was willing to give. The buy-in came swiftly for some and a little slower for others. By the end of his first season at LSU -- a very respectable 10-3 record culminating in a victory over UCF in the Fiesta Bowl (snapping UCF's 25-game winning streak, the longest in the nation at the time) -- even the most hardcore doubters were begrudgingly starting to admit that something special was brewing in Baton Rouge.
At the start of his final season at LSU, optimism was at an all-time high, but a few folks were still a little hesitant to believe that this team might catch lightning in a bottle and prove the naysayers wrong. One by one the dominoes fell, and by mid-season, even the skeptical were made into believers as one of the most dominant offenses in college football history rolled through opponents with an unrivaled flair and swagger.
~
Silent tears roll down your cheeks as you watch Joe lift the Championship trophy that he and his teammates worked so hard for, his expression showing equal parts accomplishment and relief; you take a deep breath as you soak in the moment, the love you feel for him -- your fiancé since about a month ago, although nobody knows it yet -- creating a visceral ache in your chest. You close your eyes and hear words from his Heisman speech in your head … "Just a kid from Ohio, coming down chasing a dream …"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tuesday, 11/7/23 - Cincinnati, Ohio
You flutter your eyes open, disoriented for a few seconds before you realize you were dreaming about Joe's Natty; you turn your head and look at him sleeping peacefully beside you, the bed covers pushed down below his waist revealing a delicious amount of bare skin since he's shirtless. You check the clock on the bedside table -- 3:33 am -- before returning your attention to Joe as you push up onto an arm and look down at him in the dim light filtering in from the bathroom. You both hated to sleep in total darkness, so there was just enough light for you to appreciate the view.
And what an amazing view it is, you think to yourself, your gaze slowly moving from his beautiful face to his broad shoulders, down his muscular chest and sculpted abs, lingering for several seconds where his dirty-blonde treasure trail disappears beneath the sheet. You lean a little closer and take inventory of all the scrapes, scratches and bruises from his most recent game -- a 24-18 victory at home over the Bills on Sunday Night Football day before yesterday.
Joe stirs in his sleep, rolling onto his side to face you before letting out the tiniest snore from between his parted lips. How can one man be so damn adorable and hot as fuck at the same time? you muse, a smile gracing your lips as you let your gaze slide back down to his treasure trail.
"Like what you see?" Joe purrs, causing you to jump and let out a squeal.
"Damn it, Joseph! You scared me!" you scold, softening your tone with a smile. "I was just looking at your boo-boos," you deflect, ignoring his dirty grin that tells you he knows exactly what you were looking at. You clear your throat and run your fingers over a couple of bright red scratches on his left forearm. "Do they hurt?"
"Nah, that's football, baby."
You roll your eyes playfully as he continues.
"Besides, you put way more scratches on my back during our post-game victory sex."
"You asked for those," you remind him.
He gives you a wink. "I didn't ask; I ordered."
"Exactly," you agree, biting your lip as you think back to the intense sex y'all had when he got home from the game early Monday morning (yesterday); it was a fairly quick session by your usual standards, with Joe feeling himself for the prime-time win over a major conference rival, and your arousal red-lining due to the fifteen minutes of filthy talk he teased you with on the phone during his drive home from the stadium. The result was pure, concentrated pleasure, frantic and feral, more raw need than finesse.
His voice interrupts your thoughts. "Why are you awake at this ungodly hour?"
"I had a really vivid dream about you, and I guess it woke me up."
"Mmmm, a really vivid dream, huh?" He gives you a naughty smile while dropping a hand beneath the sheet to squeeze your bare thigh. "That sounds promising."
"It wasn't that kind of dream, horndog," you chuckle, shaking your head when he pokes his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.
"Dang," he mutters, heaving a sigh while keeping his hand firmly wrapped around your leg. "What was the dream about?"
"You winning the Natty. We were back in the Superdome with confetti raining down."
"Sounds like an awesome dream."
"It really was."
"Did you dream about the crazy-hot victory sex we had that night?"
"You mean the next morning?" you tease, since it was well into the wee hours of the next day before you were finally alone with him.
"You know what I mean," he states, licking his lips and inching his hand higher up your thigh, stopping just before reaching your crotch.
"I actually woke up before that part," you admit. "The last thing I remember is a quote from your Heisman speech."
"You dreamed about the Heisman, too?"
"Yeah. The quote was 'Just a kid from Ohio, coming down chasing a dream'." You give him a smile as you continue. "It occured to me in the dream that you sometimes speak things into existence."
His eyebrows inch toward his hairline. "Like what?"
"Like the Hunger Relief Fund that eventually morphed into the Joe Burrow Foundation. You spoke that into existence by mentioning the food insecurity in Athens County in your Heisman speech. That started all the donations rolling in." He studies your earnest expression in the dim light as you continue. "Plus you kind of spoke the Natty into existence. You told anyone who would listen that y'all had the right stuff to go all the way, as long as you worked like hell for it."
"Half of doing something is believing you can," he states, sounding every bit like a coach's son. "But make no mistake, that speech only worked because our Championship team was loaded with talent. If I ended up just about anywhere else, there would be no Natty. Fiery speeches and pep talks only work if you've got the goods to back 'em up."
"And the work ethic?" you ask.
"Yes."
"And the insane team chemistry?"
"Yes."
You smile at each other for several heartbeats before a thought hits you. "It's been a while since I thought about this but … it's crazy to me that we came so close to never meeting. You really wanted to transfer to Nebraska, and …"
"And thank God they didn't want me," he finishes, giving your thigh another squeeze.
You roll over onto your back and stare at the ceiling, a little surprised that this is still messing with your head after all this time. "Do you ever think about it?" you ask.
"Think about what?" He scoots closer and pushes up onto an arm to look down at you.
"About how close we came to never meeting?"
"No, I don't ever think about it because what was supposed to happen happened. Me transferring to LSU was meant to be, not just for football but also for you. -- For us. -- It was fate."
You take a deep breath and let his words soothe you; it's not the first time he's had to talk you down off of this particular ledge.
"Also," he forges ahead. "Just so you know, I spoke our relationship into existence."
"How so?"
"Mainly pep talks after all of the many times you shot me down before finally agreeing to go out with me; sometimes the pep talks were just in my head, sometimes they were out loud while staring at myself in a mirror like a huge dork."
"What did you say?"
He thinks for a few seconds before answering. "Don't give up. Be respectful but also relentless. Prove to her that you want more than a quick fuck."
"You were def relentless," you chuckle. "I figured you were chasing me so hard because you'd never been told no before, and it hurt your ego."
He's shaking his head no before you finish your sentence. "I chased you so hard because I wanted you more than anything. I thought if I could prove I wasn't a fuck boy, you'd hopefully give me a chance."
"I'm glad you didn't give up."
"Me too." He leans down and presses a quick kiss on your lips before continuing. "Speaking of the Heisman, you scared the shit out of me Heisman week-end when I thought you were gonna break up with me, but it all worked out in the end."
"Heisman week-end will always be extra special for your acceptance speech, and also for the amazing marriage proposal you surprised me with."
"I was persuasive as fuck, wasn't I?" he grins.
"Very persuasive."
His grin levels up from cute to cocky. "I guess you might say I spoke our engagement into existence?"
"You might say that," you agree, rolling your eyes playfully at his cocky demeanor.
"Okay, but on a serious note …" he clears his throat before continuing. "Remember when I said -- 'Death Valley, where opponents dreams come to die, but where mine came true?'"
"Yeah."
"I know I've told you this before, but I want to say it again. When I said that, I wasn't just talking about football. I was also talking about you. You're a dream come true for me."
You close your eyes as you feel that familiar visceral ache in your chest; you always thought the saying "I love you so much it hurts" was just hyperbole until you met Joe.
"What are you thinking?" he asks.
"I love you so much it hurts," you admit, pressing a hand against your chest. He drops a kiss against your hand before gently moving it aside to drop another kiss between your breasts, his lips warm through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. He slowly kisses his way up from your chest to your neck, his breath tickling your ear when he finally speaks.
"I love you more than anything. You know that, right?"
"Yeah," you whisper, your pulse picking up as he kisses and nuzzles the sensitive spot behind your ear for several heartbeats before capturing your lips, treating you to the kind of slow-burn kiss that always makes your pulse race and your toes curl. You lean into him, your body craving more contact as he deepens the kiss, a thrill shooting through you when you feel his erection against your thigh.
Before you have time to grind against his obvious hard-on, he pulls his hips back and breaks the kiss, giving you a sheepish smile before speaking. "I'm trying really hard not to be a horndog right now."
"Why?" you giggle at the look on his face before scooting closer.
"Because we just had a soft, tender moment, and I don't wanna ruin it with a raging boner."
"Nothing wrong with a soft moment being followed by a hard one," you purr, dropping a hand down to tease him through his boxer briefs.
"Who's the horndog now?" he asks, hissing when you slide a hand inside his undies to grip his hard length.
"Both of us," you whisper, spreading your legs to accommodate his big body as he crawls on top of you.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday, 11/12/23 - Cincinnati, Ohio (after the home loss against the Texans)
Joe finishes brushing his teeth and does a swish-and-spit of mouthwash; he pats his lips dry with a washcloth and throws you a look that you can't quite read as he strides from the bathroom.
He's in a hurry to get in bed. That seems promising, you think to yourself, your pulse picking up as you quickly finish your nightly skincare routine before following him into the bedroom, making a face at the sight of the empty bed. "Guess I was wrong," you mumble, taking a deep breath as you step out into the hallway, the faint sounds of game film drawing you toward his office.
He'd been grumpy as hell ever since he got home from the game -- a 30-27 home loss against the Texans. Since it was an early game -- 1:00 pm kickoff -- his parents headed back to Athens before Joe got back from the stadium.
"Lucky fuckers," you mumble under your breath as you plaster a smile on your face and breeze into his office. "Hey babe," you chirp, leaning down to drop a kiss on his cheek as he watches one of the four sacks he took.
"Hey," he grunts without taking his eyes off the computer screen.
"You almost done?" you ask. "You've watched a lot of film at this point. Maybe it's time to take a break."
"I took a break for dinner," he states, giving a derisive snort as he watches himself throw an interception. "Dumbass," he seethes, quickly turning his head to lock eyes with you. "I was talking about me not you. I'm the dumbass."
"You're not a dumbass," you soothe, running your fingers through his tousled curls. "And I appreciate you taking a break to have dinner with me, but let's go to bed, okay? You can watch more film tomorrow."
"I'm not sleepy," he grumps, closing his eyes as you massage his throwing shoulder.
"Who said anything about sleep?" you tease, giving him a dirty wink when he opens one eye to check your expression.
"I don't want pity sex," he mutters, hissing when you hit just the right spot on his sore shoulder; he threw for 347 yards, so you know that thing is barking.
Not this 'pity sex' shit again, you think to yourself. This is the first time he lost a game since y'all got secretly married, so you decide to use that as leverage. "Did you just accuse your wife of offering you pity sex?"
"Sorry," he mumbles, raking a hand through his hair before turning his attention back to his computer; you step behind him and continue the shoulder massage, your mind running through options to get his mind off the game so he can get a good night's sleep.
Food and sex, you think to yourself. That's pretty much it. A full belly and empty balls. You lean down and press a kiss against the nape of his neck. Full belly is a done deal, just gotta finish him off.
"You can go to bed," he grumbles. "I have more film to watch."
Fuck that, you muse, knowing that the film watching is just self-flagellation at this point. You watch as he rewinds a play a couple times before scribbling a note in a small spiral notebook. A thought forms in your mind, and you smile as you give it some consideration. "Perfect idea," you whisper.
"Huh?" Joe asks, spinning his desk chair around to face you.
"Nothing," you shrug, reaching past him to snatch his precious spiral notebook before retreating a few steps.
He rolls his eyes when you waggle it at him. "Give it back," he orders.
"Come and get it," you purr, backing toward the door as he narrows his eyes at you.
He spins his chair back around, and you think he's going to ignore you, but instead he shuts his computer down and slowly stands up; he gives you a thorough once-over, taking in your bare legs and purple t-shirt -- one of his -- that hits you mid-thigh. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way," he states, giving you a loaded look while yanking his socks off, leaving him wearing slinky black shorts and a gray t-shirt.
Ohhh, he means business, you muse, a little thrill shooting through you at his obvious intention -- he knows you're going to run, and he's getting ready to chase you. "You know I'm gonna pick the hard way," you tease, putting as much sexual innuendo in your voice as possible. You watch in fascination as his nostrils flare, like a predator catching the scent of his prey; you give him a dirty grin before spinning around and running for the door.
You let out a squeal when you hear him pounding down the hallway right behind you, literally inches away when you finally bust into the bedroom and spin around to face him, holding a hand up as words spill from your lips. "Okay, okay, okay," you pant, your pulse racing way more from excitement than exertion as you continue to back away from him. "Stop right there and I'll give you what you want." You hold the notebook out toward him like a peace offering, giving him an innocent smile as he steps forward and reaches a hand out to take it. You let out a naughty giggle as you snatch the notebook back at the last second and dance away from him.
"You better stop playin'," he warns, the husky tone of his voice setting off a steady throb of arousal deep inside you. "Or what?" you chirp, sticking your tongue out as he takes a step toward you. He doesn't answer; instead he continues to walk toward you, his gaze dropping to your chest where your hard nipples are very visible through the thin fabric of your shirt. "Hold on a sec," you say breathlessly, giving him a smile when he drags his gaze from your breasts to your face. "Let's play a game."
He gives you a skeptical look as he stops about a foot away from you. "What kind of game?"
"Guess which hand it's in, and I'll give it to you." You wave the notebook at him before hiding it behind your back.
"I think I'll just come and take it," he smirks, closing the distance between you in one long stride and reaching a hand behind your back; you transfer the notebook from one hand to the other before lifting it over your head and rising up onto your tiptoes. He gives you a bemused look before easily plucking the notebook out of your upstretched hand. "Should've gone low, shorty," he gloats, his eyebrows rising as you give him a wink while dropping to your knees at his feet.
"Good idea," you purr, holding eye contact while palming his erection through his slinky shorts; you eventually slide your hands up and sink your fingers in the waistband of his shorts, pulling them plus his undies to mid-thigh. You catch his hard cock as it springs free, your tongue immediately lapping at the precum on his tip.
"Fuck," he hisses, his gaze locked on your mouth as you continue to tease him. "I just got played, huh?" he asks, more than a little admiration evident in his tone. "Like a motherfucker," you admit, giving him a cocky smile before tracing your tongue over a prominent vein, base to tip, finishing it off with a slow swirl and thorough suck. "Just consider this my victory formation," you purr, relishing the angle as he towers over you, his feel and taste on your tongue causing a gush of liquid heat in your mouth and core; he makes a sound low in his throat as he drops the notebook on the floor and wraps a hand around the nape of your neck, his grunts of approval spurring you on as you hit a rhythm that has his hips thrusting forward, dirty praise spilling from his pretty lips as you continue to pleasure him.
"Hold on a sec," he rasps after several minutes. "Let's get naked."
You pull off of him and give a quick nod before shoving his shorts and undies all the way down; he steps out of them before stripping his shirt off, dropping it on the floor as he backs up a few steps and sits on the bed, his thick thighs falling open in his usual manspread. "Come here," he orders, giving you a dirty grin when you strip your shirt off and walk toward him, your eyes dropping down to his impressive erection as you lick your lips in anticipation of finishing what you started.
"Hold on," he stops you as you start to kneel between his thighs. "Lose the panties."
You slide your thong off, your eyebrows rising when he reaches a hand out to grab it before quickly bringing the scrap of black lace to his face; he takes a deep breath and then another, his cock twitching at the scent of your arousal. You feel a gush of wetness between your thighs as you sink to your knees, your lips barely making contact with his shaft before he reaches down and picks you up. "What are you doing? I wasn't finished sucking you," you yelp, spreading your legs so you end up straddling his waist with him flat on his back on the bed.
"I'm calling an audible," he states, gripping your ass in both hands and sliding you up his body toward his face. "I need to taste you."
"I need to taste you, too," you whine. "Don't get me wrong, I love the manhandling, but I wanna finish you with my mouth."
He laughs at your pouty expression. "There's a way we can both get what we want."
"How?"
He raises one eyebrow, smiling when a look of realization hits your face.
"Sixty-nine?" you mumble, sticking your tongue out at his 'well, duh' expression. "It's your fault I didn't think of that sooner," you grump, trying and failing to keep a stern look on your face.
"How is it my fault?" he asks, helping you spin around and get into position.
"You got me so dickmatized I can't think straight."
"Ohhh, I love that. I'm gonna get you a t-shirt that says that."
"Shut up," you giggle, gasping when he grips your hips and pulls you toward his face.
"Don't worry," he purrs, licking a long stripe up the length of your wet slit. "I know better than to talk with my mouth full."
The last coherent thought you have is thank goodness y'all are alone in the house, since there's a 100% chance of you getting loud as hell.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You watch the play unfold in slow motion on your TV screen, your heart skipping a beat as two defenders converge on Joe; you gasp in horror as they wrap him up and twist him to the ground, his body language and grimace of pain speaking volumes as he grabs his knee. "Oh no!" you yelp, tears streaming down your face when you realize how much pain he's in. "Noooooo!"
~
"Babe, wake up! You're having a bad dream!"
Joe's voice snaps you out of your nightmare; you take one look at his concerned face and break down crying. "What day is it?" you ask between sobs.
He throws a quick glance at the bedside clock before answering. "It's Tuesday, November 14th, 2023. 1:44 am to be precise."
"Thank goodness," you whisper as you collapse against him. "I thought I was still dreaming for a sec."
"You're awake," he soothes, pulling you tight against him, your hot tears falling on his bare chest as he cradles your head in one big hand, his other hand rubbing your back. "It's okay, baby," he whispers, pressing a kiss on top of your head.
"It's not okay," you sniff. "I was dreaming about your knee injury. That awful dream where it happens in slow motion and I can't look away."
"Damn," he mutters, pressing a couple more kisses against you as your tears continue to fall. "That's def a nightmare."
"I felt so helpless since I couldn't be at the game because of Covid," you sputter, grinding your face against his chest as your emotions overwhelm you.
"You got to me as soon as you could," he murmurs. "And you helped me through that hideous rehab. I couldn't have done it without you."
You cry for a few more minutes before your tears finally taper off; you take a deep breath before speaking, your words muffled against him. "Sorry for crying all over you," you sniff.
"It's okay. I'm waterproof," he says, dropping another kiss on your head before hopping up to grab some tissues for you. You blow your nose, cringing at the loud noise before placing the soiled tissues in his outstretched hand; he disappears into the bathroom to toss the tissues before rejoining you in bed.
"Booger check," you urge, tilting your head back for him to inspect your nostrils. "You're good," he assures you, stretching out beside you and pulling you against him. You bury your face in his neck, his warmth and familiar scent soothing your frazzled nerves.
Several minutes pass before he breaks the silence. "You haven't had that dream in a while. I was hoping you'd never have it again."
"Me too," you mumble. "I think I had it again because I'm worried about you."
He tries to pull back and look at you, but you burrow your face deeper into his neck; you feel him take a deep breath, hold it for several seconds, then slowly let it out. He repeats the action before speaking up. "Talk to me."
"It's just …" you scramble to organize your thoughts before continuing. "The short week has me worried. Playing Sunday the 12th then Thursday the 16th seems crazy. That's basically no time for your body to recover."
"I'll be fine," he murmurs. "My calf's been feeling damn near 100%."
You finally pull back and lock eyes with him. "What about your arm?"
"What about it?"
"You've been wearing the compression sleeve pretty regularly lately."
"My arm is fine. The compression sleeve is just precautionary to keep the normal swelling down that most QBs experience at this point in the season."
You study his face for several seconds before speaking. "You'd tell me if something was actually wrong, right?"
"Of course I would."
"This week just feels so rushed, doesn't it? You just played a game two days ago, and you've got a night practice tonight at 6:00 pm, then you're on the team flight tomorrow headed to Baltimore. I also hate that it's a late game. You're gonna be dead tired by that 8:15 pm kickoff."
"Kickoff could be at midnight, and I'd be ready to go." He gives you a cocky grin as he continues. "Don't you think I might have a little extra adrenaline flowing going up against a division rival?"
"Obvi," you concede, returning his grin even though you still have a vague sense of dread. "Sorry for waking you up," you continue, snuggling against him. "Let's try to go back to sleep. You need all the sleep you can get."
"I wasn't actually sleeping when you had the nightmare."
"You weren't?"
"Nope. I'd been awake for about thirty minutes. I tried to go back to sleep, but I was having a hard time turning my brain off."
"Thinking about the upcoming game?"
"Obvi," he admits, scrunching up his adorable nose when you push up into a sitting position and look down at him.
"What will help you sleep?" you ask. "Maybe a snack? How about a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie?"
"I was thinking of a different kind of snack," he purrs, licking his lips and dropping his gaze down to your crotch.
"Marriage has turned you into a shameless horndog," you chuckle, raising your arms as he sits up and strips your t-shirt off.
"That's a good thing, though, right?" he asks, tossing your shirt on the floor.
You nod, giving him a wink as you lie back. "That's a very good thing."
"Good. 'Cause I can't help that I'm perpetually horny," he teases, giving you a dirty grin as he slides your panties down your legs before crawling between your spread thighs. "I mean, have you seen my wife? She's smoking hot."
Your giggles turn into groans as he lowers his head, your vague sense of dread quickly disappearing with every stroke of his talented tongue.
~ ~ ~
An hour later, you gently ease out of bed and look down at Joe sleeping peacefully, the last words he said before he drifted off echoing in your head. Get some sleep, babe. I promise there's nothing to worry about.
You grab your t-shirt and panties and creep out into the hallway, quickly shimmying into the articles of clothing before tiptoeing downstairs to the kitchen; you pour a glass of water and grab a cookie, savoring a few bites before rolling your shoulders to ease some tension. "There's plenty to worry about," you mumble under your breath. "Football is violent as fuck, and a bunch of players get hurt every week."
You hadn't said that to Joe earlier because he needed sleep more than you needed to make a point, so you held your tongue. "It is what it is," you mutter, "no reason to argue about it." You finish your cookie as you try to put the negative thoughts out of your mind; you heave a weary sigh as you walk to the living room and plop down on the sofa. "I'm not sleepy," you grumble, trying to decide what to do to take your mind off of things. You don't feel like watching TV or reading or scrolling your phone, so what does that leave?
After a few minutes, an idea hits you, and you open a drawer on the end table and pull out a book bound in black leather. You tuck a plush blanket around your legs before you flip the book open, reading the title out loud. "The Story of Us - Volume One." A smile immediately graces your lips as you peruse the pics of you and Joe, and you laugh quietly at how awkward y'all look in some of the pics from when you first started dating.
You slowly flip several pages before stopping on a page dedicated to Joe's Heisman win. There are pics of him on stage accepting the award, in Times Square with his face and name in flashing lights, and pics of both of you the following night at the gala dinner where everyone in attendance couldn't get enough of him. "Especially the women," you mutter, shaking your head as you close your eyes and let your mind rewind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
December 15, 2019 - Marriott Marquis Times Square NYC
You take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds as Joe follows you into the elevator and presses the button for the 18th floor. He gives you a smile as the door slides closed, cutting you off from the crowd of people still mingling after the Heisman gala dinner. "Alone at last," he murmurs, leaning down to drop a kiss on your lips as the elevator whisks you upward.
A few seconds later, the elevator slows to a halt, and Joe throws a look over his shoulder to see what floor you're on. "Six," he mutters, spinning around and using one big hand to tuck you behind him as three very loud and rowdy guys join you in the elevator.
"Oh shit!" one of them yelps. "It's Joe Burrow, right? I mean, I know it's you since your face is all over Times Square right now."
"Yeah, it's me," Joe mutters, exchanging greetings with the very inebriated guys while you stay firmly hidden behind his large frame.
"Dude," one of the drunks slurs. "You're about to be living the life! Heisman winner and soon to be first pick in the NFL is no joke, bro. You're gonna be absolutely drowning in pussy."
"No shit!" another drunk chimes in. "Hot chicks will be throwing themselves at you!"
Before Joe has a chance to respond, the elevator crawls to a stop and the door swishes open, the trio of loud-mouths cackling as they stumble out into the corridor. You stare at your feet as the door slides closed, encapsulating you and Joe in a very tense silence; he turns to face you and you swallow hard, fighting back tears as the elevator continues its ascent.
"Bunch of drunk idiots," he mumbles, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as you continue to stare at your feet. "You okay?" he inquires, turning to look at the floor number as the elevator grinds to a halt. "This is our floor."
The words are barely out of his mouth before you dart around him and exit the elevator, hiking the hem of your dress up and legging it down the long hallway toward your suite; you swipe the key card and sling the door open, immediately rushing through the lounge area into the bedroom then into the en suite bathroom as Joe follows close behind.
"Are you okay?" he asks again, his voice slightly frantic.
"I'm fine. I just need to pee," you lie, shutting the bathroom door in his face before locking it. You toss your tiny, sparkly bag on the counter and stare at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, a wave of nausea rolling through you as you replay the words said in the elevator. "Drowning in pussy, indeed," you sneer under your breath, yanking the sleeves of your slinky black dress down your arms, relishing the ripping sound as you roughly shove the gossamer fabric over your plump butt. "Fuck it," you grit out, kicking the dress off and stomping on it a few times, literally grinding it under your stiletto heels for several seconds before catching a glimpse of yourself in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door.
"Calm down," you whisper, taking several deep breaths while studying your reflection, your gaze raking over the purple lace teddy you wore under your dress because you knew Joe would love it, especially the way your breasts spill out of the demi cups and the snap crotch just waiting to be unsnapped.
"So much for that," you mutter, kicking your heels off and reaching for one of the plush hotel bathrobes hanging beside the door. You shrug the robe on and gather up your dress and heels, slinging the door open and giving Joe a bland smile as you walk into the bedroom. You notice he's changed out of his tux into a pair of gray sweatpants and a black long-sleeve t-shirt. He's sitting on the bed looking nervous as hell.
"You okay?" he asks for the third time, quickly standing up as you walk in the room.
"I'm fine," you mutter, jamming your dress and heels in your suitcase before breezing past Joe to walk into the lounge area; you head straight to the bar and grab a glass, dropping a couple of fat ice cubes in it before adding a mini bottle of vodka. "Fuck it," you mumble under your breath, grabbing a mini bottle of silver tequila and adding it to the glass with the vodka, swirling it around for a few seconds before taking a sip, the potent elixir burning all the way down just like you hoped it would.
"Can I have a taste?" Joe asks, giving you a smile when you turn your head to look at him.
"Sure," you answer, walking to where he's sitting on the leather sofa before offering him the glass; you watch closely as he takes a hearty gulp, his eyes immediately going wide.
"Got damn! What kind of cocktail is this?" he wheezes, making a face as he hands the glass back to you.
"Fuck boy repellant," you state, your full lips curling into a cunty sneer as you drop into an armchair directly across from him, the hotel robe you're wearing -- which is too big for you -- sliding off of one shoulder far enough to reveal a strap of your teddy. His eyes are drawn to the wisp of purple, lingering there for several seconds before you part the robe just below your crotch, letting it fall open to reveal your bare legs. You take a small sip of your drink and watch in annoyed amusement as his gaze drops down to your smooth legs, slowly sliding from your feet -- toenails painted LSU purple -- all the way up to your barely-concealed crotch. Men are so fucking predictable, you think to yourself. Even the decent ones are constantly thinking with their dicks.
He eventually clears his throat and meets your eyes. "Are you mad at me?" he asks, nervously picking at his thumbnail in a way you wish you didn't find endearing.
"I'm mad at the situation."
He nods vigorously. "Because of those rude drunks spouting bullshit in the elevator, right?"
"They may have been drunk, but they were 100% correct," you state, taking another sip of your godawful drink before sitting it on a coaster on the side table. "No bullshit detected."
He opens his mouth to argue, but you beat him to the punch. "I wouldn't try to deny it if I were you. At best you come off as an oblivious doofus, and at worst you come off as a manipulative liar." He snaps his mouth closed as you plow ahead. "Having said that, I don't really want to have this convo tonight. You've had an amazing couple of days, and I don't want to ruin that. Let's save this heavy topic for some other time."
"I prefer to have the conversation now," he urges, swallowing hard when you raise an eyebrow at him. "Please?" he adds. "I won't be able to sleep or think or anything until we clear this up."
"Fine," you state, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Remember when we first met just after you transferred to LSU in the summer of 2018?"
"Yeah."
"And remember how I refused to go out with you for several weeks before you finally convinced me?"
"Yeah."
"This shit right here is the reason I was so reluctant."
He furrows his brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean … once I found out you were a football player, I promised myself I'd stay away, even though I was super attracted to you."
"Because you thought I was a fuck boy."
"Exactly. And now -- after being with you for almost 18 months -- my worst fears are about to be realized."
"I don't understand. You know I'm not a fuck boy, so what's the problem?"
You take a deep breath as you struggle to find the words to say, fighting back tears as your mood shifts from mad to sad. "Look … I don't think you're a fuck boy, but you're only human, and you have women throwing themselves at you left and right. I lost count of how many women propositioned you right in front of my face tonight."
"And damn near every man in the place was eye-fucking you, but I know you'd never cheat on me. Don't you trust me?"
"That's a loaded question," you mutter. "I mean … you're a Heisman winner, and unless an asteroid destroys the Earth before January 13, 2020, you're gonna be a National Champion." You wipe a tear before continuing. "Then you're gonna be a number one pick in the NFL draft and an instant multi-millionaire. There's a saying about how a man is only as faithful as his options." You shrug as you continue. "And you're about to be drowning in options."
"I don't want options; I want you! I've wanted you since I first laid eyes on you!"
You give him a sad smile. "I want you, too, but I also want to live a normal, quiet life. I had no idea when we started dating that you were gonna have one of the most amazing college football seasons of all time and end up in the NFL."
"Are you breaking up with me?" he grits out, his voice cracking with emotion.
"I'm … not sure."
"Oh my God," he snaps, leaping off the sofa like he got poked with a cattle prod; he paces back and forth several times, raking a hand through his hair while muttering under his breath. You watch him with equal parts fascination and trepidation, not exactly sure where this is going.
He eventually stops right in front of your chair and stares at you for several seconds before grabbing the lethal drink; he takes two gulps before slamming it back down. "Fucking hell, that's awful," he gasps, his gaze locking onto yours as he drops to his knees at your feet. "Have I done something wrong?" he asks, his earnest expression breaking your heart.
"You haven't done anything wrong. I just … I don't want you to feel like you're stuck with me."
"Stuck with you? Are you serious?" He shakes his head as he continues. "These last 18 months have been the best of my life, and football is part of that, but you're also a huge part. You're a dream come true for me."
You chew on your bottom lip as he scoots closer and forges ahead.
"And you're right, this season has been absolutely crazy. You've been the eye of the storm for me. My safe space." He reaches a hand out toward you, waiting for you to grasp it before continuing. "I'm not sure we can have a normal, quiet life for however long I'm in the NFL, but I promise I'll do everything I can to shield you from the bullshit."
"I feel like I'm already waist deep in bullshit," you mutter, "and I think you're being a little naive to think you can shield me from it."
"You're right," he admits, "all I can do is try my best. Whatever you need from me, I'll do it." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "Football is gonna be one chapter in our story, but there are so many other things I'm looking forward to experiencing with you."
"Like what?" you ask.
"Like house hunting when I finally know which team is gonna draft me, finally living together so we can go to sleep and wake up in the same bed all the time, vacations, marriage, kids, stuff like that."
"Stuff like that?" you laugh. "You threw marriage and kids in there pretty nonchalantly."
"I kind of got ahead of myself," he grins. "It's probably not the right time for this because I'm totally unprepared but fuck it, I'm calling an audible. Hold on a sec," he continues, hopping up and striding to the coat closet in the entryway; he pulls out his LSU letterman jacket and shrugs it on as he walks back into the lounge, dropping to one knee in front of you and reaching both of his hands out. Your heart skips a beat at the look on his face as you place your hands in his.
He swallows hard and licks his lips before speaking. "Coming to LSU was my destiny, not just for football but also for you. I was gonna wait until I signed my rookie contract to do this so I could give you the engagement ring you deserve, but right here, right now, I need you to know that I want you by my side for this journey. It's our journey, not just my journey. Will you marry me?"
It takes you a few heartbeats to be able to speak, so you nod your head as tears roll down your cheeks. "Yes," you finally manage, burying your face in his neck when he pulls you close. "I love you," he murmurs. "I love you, too," you sniff, relaxing into his embrace for several minutes before he pulls back and stands up.
"Take your robe off," he urges as he shrugs out of his letterman jacket. You stand up and do his bidding, smiling when his eyes go wide at the sight of your purple lace teddy. "Damn," he mumbles, "hope I get to see more of that later. But for now I want to give you my jacket." He holds the jacket for you while you slip into it. "We need something symbolic since I don't have a ring yet."
"Thank you, babe," you whisper, rising up on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips. "It's a little big, huh?" you giggle, spinning in a circle to show off the fit.
"It's perfect," he grins, engulfing you in a hug for several heartbeats before pulling back. "We need a pic," he mutters, grabbing his phone before plopping into the armchair and patting his lap; you dab the tears off of your cheeks as you sit in his lap. "Do I look okay?" you ask. "You look gorgeous," he answers, waiting for you to get settled before snapping the selfie.
Y'all are admiring the pic when his stomach growls loudly. "Those dinner portions were tiny," he grumbles. "You wanna order room service?"
"Sure," you agree. "What sounds good?"
"I'm thinking club sandwiches, fries and a bottle of champagne to celebrate."
"Sounds great."
~ ~ ~
Thirty minutes later, y'all are sitting side by side at the bistro-size table, feeding each other fries and guzzling champagne while looking out the window at the bright lights of the city that never sleeps.
"We can't tell anybody we're engaged until after the Natty," you state, accidentally wiping your salty hand on your robe before you realize it's not your napkin (the letter jacket is safely back in the closet). "Not even family," you continue. "The pressure on you is insane right now, and you don't need the distraction."
"True," he agrees. "I was actually thinking we might wait until we get your engagement ring to tell folks. The draft is April 23rd, and I should sign my rookie contract some time in July. We can tell close family and friends before that, but I want the ring on your finger before we make a public announcement. Is that okay?"
"Sounds good to me," you smile, feeling a little lightheaded from the champagne and the sheer giddyness of the moment. "Just so you know, I don't need an expensive ring."
"We'll see." He grins with a mouthful of sandwich before hopping up to root around in his duffle bag; he sits back down and places a small spiral notebook on the table. "We need to make a to-do list," he states, flipping to a blank page and brandishing a pen before continuing. "First off, next Sunday the 22nd, there's an important game between the Bengals and Dolphins. If the Dolphins win, the Bengals secure the first pick in the draft. So if that happens, we need to start looking for houses in Cincinnati, preferably close to the stadium."
"And two days before that," you interject, "you're gonna receive your master's degree. Be sure to put that on the list."
"Yes, ma'am," he grins, doing your bidding; you top off your champagne glasses as y'all continue to add items to the list:
Dec. 20, 2019 - Joe receives master's degree
Dec. 22, 2019 - if Dolphins beat Bengals, start house hunting in Cincinnati
Dec. 28, 2019 - beat Oklahoma in the Peach Bowl
Jan. 13, 2020 - win the Natty
April 23, 2020 - NFL draft
May 15, 2020 - Y/n receives bachelor's degree (you're a year and a half younger than Joe - also keep in mind spring semester was mostly done virtually b/c of Covid)
July ??, 2020 - Joe signs NFL rookie contract
July/August, 2020 - buy engagement ring & make public announcement + buy house
Joe reads the list out loud before giving you a look. "Can you think of anything else?"
"Not right now, but I'm feeling kinda lightheaded from the champagne."
"Let's finish it off," he grins, pouring the remainder of the bubbly in each of your glasses.
"You're such a bad influence," you giggle, taking the champagne flute as he hands it to you.
"Just one more sip, okay? I wanna propose a toast."
"Okay, go ahead," you snicker, busting out laughing at the look on his face.
"What's so funny?" he laughs.
"Nothing really, I'm just giddy as hell. Combination of drunk and high on life."
"Cool," he grins, holding his glass up. "Here's to happily ever after. Is that cheesy?"
"Cheesy as fuck and I love it," you giggle, clinking your glass against his before downing your entire drink.
"Am I gonna have to carry you to bed?" he asks, sliding a hand up your thigh and under your robe until it's nestled against your crotch; he makes an inquisitive face as he runs his fingers over the snap crotch of your teddy. "This feels different," he muses, his forehead wrinkling in consternation as he tries to figure out what he's feeling.
"It's a snap crotch," you state.
"Oh. -- Sooo I can just … unsnap it?" he asks, the look on his face sending a sizzle of heat through you.
"Yeah," you whisper, shrugging the robe off as he stands up and reaches for you, picking you up bridal-style as he heads for the bedroom.
~ ~ ~
Joe's voice pulls you out of your flashback.
"Hey babe," he mumbles around a mouthful of peanut butter chocolate chip cookie. "What ya looking at?"
"Our picture book," you answer, giving him a smile when he sits beside you on the sofa.
"That was an amazing night," he says, looking at the pic of you sitting in his lap wearing his letterman jacket. "I really thought we'd be married super fast, but it didn't happen that way."
"No, it didn't," you whisper, your mind thinking back to all the reasons why -- Covid -- Joe's horrible knee injury -- losing the Super Bowl -- etc. Plus, the stress of planning a big wedding was something that neither one of you wanted to deal with.
"But we're married now," he states, "even if nobody knows it yet." He takes the picture book off of your lap and places it on the coffee table. "You wanna try to get a little more sleep before we have to get up?" he asks, stretching out beside you on the oversized sofa when you say yes; he tucks the blanket around both of you as you snuggle against him, dropping a kiss on the nape of your neck as he pulls you close, your back to his chest.
You close your eyes and try to relax, but your mind has other ideas. Why do I have such an uneasy feeling, you think to yourself. I'm sure everything is gonna be just fine.
"Relax, babe," Joe mutters, dropping another kiss on your neck. "Everything's gonna be just fine."
"You really need to stop reading my mind," you chuckle. "It's getting a little crazy."
"I'm not really reading your mind, we're just always on the same wavelength."
"That sounds like something a shameless mind reader would say."
"Okay, you caught me. I always know exactly what you're thinking."
"What am I thinking right now?"
He considers the question for a few seconds before answering. "You're thinking that you wanna have super naughty shower sex before I leave for practice."
"You are such a horndog," you giggle.
"Obvi, but is that what you were thinking?"
"No, but I'm thinking it now."
"I love it when a plan comes together," he gloats, laughing along with you for a bit before quieting down; you feel the tension leave your body as he pulls you closer and drops another kiss on your neck, your eyelids fluttering closed as you drift off to sleep in his embrace.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
shoutout to @sofferaddict for the idea to incorporate more flashbacks while we wait for good news on Joe's wrist.
shoutout to @joeys-babe for requesting a flashback of Joe proposing.
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“Is it green energy if it’s impacting cultural traditional sites?”
Yakama Nation Tribal Councilman Jeremy Takala sounded weary. For five years, tribal leaders and staff have been fighting a renewable energy development that could permanently destroy tribal cultural property. “This area, it’s irreplaceable.”
The privately owned land, outside Goldendale, Washington, is called Pushpum, or “mother of roots,” a first foods seed bank. The Yakama people have treaty-protected gathering rights there. One wind turbine-studded ridge, Juniper Point, is the proposed site of a pumped hydro storage facility. But to build it, Boston-based Rye Development would have to carve up Pushpum — and the Yakama Nation lacks a realistic way to stop it.
Back in October 2008, unbeknownst to Takala, Scott Tillman, CEO of Golden Northwest Aluminum Corporation, met with the Northwest Power and Conservation Council, a collection of governor-appointed representatives from Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana [...]. Tillman, who owned a shuttered Lockheed Martin aluminum smelter near Goldendale, told the council about the contaminated site’s redevelopment potential, specifically for pumped hydro storage [...]. Shortly thereafter, Klickitat County’s public utility department tried to implement Tillman’s plan [...].
Meanwhile, Tillman cleaned up and sold another smelting site, just across the Columbia River in The Dalles, Oregon, a Superfund site where Lockheed Martin had poisoned the groundwater with cyanide. He sold it to Google’s parent company, Alphabet, which operates water-guzzling data centers in The Dalles and plans to build more. For nine years, the county and Rye plotted the fate of Pushpum — without ever notifying the Yakama Nation.
The tribal government only learned of the development in December 2017, when the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) issued a public notice of acceptance for Rye’s preliminary permit application. Tribal officials had just 60 days to catch up on nine years of development planning and issue their initial concerns and objections as public comments. [...]
When the tribe objected, FERC said it could file more public comments to the docket instead of consulting. [...]
When asked what Rye could offer the Yakama people as compensation for the irreversible destruction of their cultural property, Steimle suggested “employment associated with the project.” [...] Presented with the reality that Yakama people might not want Rye’s jobs, Steimle hesitated. “Yeah, I mean I, I can’t argue that — maybe it won’t be meaningful to them.” [...]
Klickitat County’s eagerness creates another barrier to the Yakama Nation. In Washington, a developer can take one of two permitting paths: through the state’s Energy Facility Site Evaluation Council, or through county channels. Both lead to FERC. In this case, working with the county benefits Rye: Klickitat, a majority Republican county, has a contentious relationship with the Yakama Nation [...]. “Klickitat County refuses to work with us,” said Takala. [...]
Fighting Rye's proposal has required the efforts of tribal attorneys, archaeologists and government staffers from a number of departments. [...]
And Rye’s project is just one of dozens proposed within the Yakama Nation’s 10 million-acre treaty territory. Maps from the tribe and the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife show that of the 51 wind and solar projects currently proposed statewide — not including geothermal or pumped hydro storage projects, which are also renewable energy developments — at least 34 are on or partially on the Yakama Nation’s ceded lands.
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Headline, images, graphics, captions, and text by: B. Toastie Oaster (High Country News). “Green colonialism is flooding the Pacific Northwest.” As published at The Wenatchee World. 25 March 2023.
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