#to get to revisit your series years later

[muppetfreak]

Mr. Riordan, it is truly a pleasure getting to experience your second draft.

[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: You and König attend a holiday party.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, vague racism, heat (omega verse)

Word count: 3.1k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.

A/n: Omg....Hi guys......it's me.....hey.......I am alive. This chapter is defiantly geared more towards my poc readers. Theres some angst that i'll revisit in a later chapter. Some comments are made. You'll see. Anyways, I can't promise I will be posting super consistently but I will definatly try to post more then I have been.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Five:

Your editor droned on about deadlines and writing engines as you ate some soup König got you earlier. You can hear the desperation through the computer screen. You'd be lying if you said you were listening. They'll get the pages when they get them, with you, no money. König sat on the couch waiting for your meeting to be done. 

“I'll get the next chapter done, Frankie.” You said.

“You promise?” He was almost teary-eyed.

“Yes, I promise.” 

You hung up and closed your laptop while sighing. You got up and walked over to your giant Alpha. You outstretched his arm, inviting you to cuddle. You obliged plopping yourself on his lap and resting your head on his chest. The November winds were seeping into the atmosphere slowly. You didn't mind. That meant the holidays were coming. 

“The 141 is having an early holiday party. Everyone goes on leave one week into December, so we celebrate early. Would you like to go with me, Schatz?” 

“Oh yes, that sounds lovely. When is it?” You asked delightedly.

“This weekend. It's a dressy event.” 

The weekend was in four days. You haven't done your hair or dressed up in a while. You'd want a new dress for this especially with the cold, but you supposed you could make something work. As for your hair, it was time to hit up a YouTube tutorial for some ideas. König seemed to sense your internal struggle. 

“We can go shopping today, I need a button-down shirt.” 

“You don't have a button-down?” You asked a little amused. 

“Never needed one.” 

“Huh, well I also want to get my hair done. But, I've never been to a stylist here.” You started searching for braiders in the area, and to your surprise, there were some. 

The prices were comparable to ones in the US so that gave you some comfort. König looked over your shoulder browsing the different styles along with you. Some he has seen and others he hasn't. He chimed in with some styles he thought would look cute on you every so often. 

“Oh, she has an appointment available tomorrow.”

“Book it, I'll take you.” 

“I can take myself it's alright.”

“Nein. I'll take you.”

You grumbled a bit at his stubbornness but gave in. You booked the appointment and placed your deposit. 

“How much is it?” König asked.

“Um, all together with the deposit, one hundred fifty euros. I was also gonna tip but I forgot Europe doesn't do that.” 

König replied with a 'hmm' and tapped away on his phone. Your phone dinged and you checked the notification. 

'König has sent you € 150,00' 

“Kö, You don't have to pay for this.”

“Why shouldn't I? You are mine, You want it, I like it when you look beautiful, so I pay.” He said simply.

König had a habit of paying for everything. You liked it but it made you a little uncomfortable. This wasn't how you'd be treated back in the States. Whenever you mentioned it, König would always rant about how American men were cheap and lazy. He also would mention how he has more money than he needs so spending it on you is fun. König loves to see your little face light up whenever he buys you something sweet, or a piece of jewelry you were looking at. He told you to get dressed for the shopping trip and you obliged, making sure you were bundled up for the cold weather. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you opted to shop for König's clothes first. Finding clothing that fits him nicely is a challenge with how tall and muscular he is. There were some stores specifically made for big and tall men that you went into first. One store only had bright floral patterned shirts and loosely fitting dress pants. Neither you nor your Alpha liked that. The next one had some nice boots in his size. They were a fancier version of combat boots. Finally, you found a simple black button-down shirt and slim tapered dress pants for him. You made him try it on before leaving the store.

 My god...You had to keep yourself from drooling. The pants hugged his waist perfectly, and the shirt was just tight enough for you to see some muscle peeking through. König smirked at your reaction. 

“You think this will look good with my sniper hood?” he asked. 

“What?! You're gonna wear your hood and cover-up that gorgeous face? No way.”

“I don't show my face to anyone on base, Schatz.” 

“Hmm, well you look good in anything so... I guess.” You pouted.

König got dressed and paid for his clothes. Nearby there were a few boutiques with dresses. You wanted something nice, but not too fancy. You didn't want to overdress. König was patient with you as you browsed a bunch of stores. Eventually, you found something you liked. It was a midi deep purple knit dress. It had elegant sleeves and looked like it could be dressed up or down. Perfect for a cold night. König sat on the bench of the fitting room as you tried it on. You came out and twirled giving him a full view of the dress. 

“So?” You asked.

“Beautiful.” He motioned for you to come closer. When you did he placed a hand on your hip gingerly. 

“I can think of many things I could do to you in this dress.” He said quietly. 

“König!” You gave him a light slap on the arm and went back into the changing room embarrassed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you started prepping for your hair appointment. You had to wash your hair but the stylist said she could blow-dry it for you. You spent about an hour washing your hair and another detangling it. König kept you company on the couch as you combed and sectioned it out. You sighed and slumped on the couch once you were done. Your arms were a little sore but you were glad you were done. You put your bonnet on to keep your hair neat and moisturized. You made sure you had your tip ready and a book to read while you got your hair done. König stood at the door watching you pace around the apartment gathering your things. 

The drive to the salon was quick and smooth. König gave you a kiss on the cheek before you exited the car. You opened the door to the building, and the smell of hair spray wafted into your nose. A tall woman greeted you as you walked in. Her hair was braided back into neat rows and her dark cheeks had a warm glow to them. 

“Are you my twelve pm?” She asked with a smile.

“Yes, I am, nice to meet you.” 

She guided you into a salon chair and got started. Her hands were quick, skilled, and gentle as she worked her way through your head of hair. In about two hours she finished. You admired your new do in the mirror and thanked your stylist profusely. König waited at a café down the street. You spotted him sitting peacefully at one of the outdoor tables, away from most other patrons. As you got closer he glanced up to meet and look at you. His eyes widened, taking in your new look. Although he had his mask on you could tell he was smiling under it. He stood up to greet you. 

“You look beautiful, Liebe.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead careful to avoid touching your freshly done hair. You giggled bashfully and returned his kiss on his cheek. 

The next few days went by quickly. You did some extra work and scheduled an editor meeting before the weekend. When Saturday rolled around, you were anxious. You wanted to make a good impression with your Alpha's coworkers. How do you act around military personnel? Your father never brought you around any of his military friends. As you got ready you just tried to keep an open mind and stay confident in yourself. Also, you will get to see Soap again. You slipped on your dress and spritzed a light mist of perfume.

You walked out of your room while looking through your purse to make sure you had all of your essentials. König was sitting on the couch but stood when he saw you. He was dressed and ready, looking over your form affectionately. You zipped around the dining room and kitchen making sure you had everything in order. König walked over to you, stopping you in your path. He slinked his hand around your waist pulling you out of your thoughts. He pulled you into his chest gently. 

“Relax, Schatz.” He purred. You looked up at him and gave him a nervous smile. 

“I think I left my wallet in my room. Do I need it? Should I bring a gift?” You rambled. 

König pulled your wallet out from his back pocket and handed it to you. He shook his head and gave you a small smile. His sniper hood was hanging haphazardly over a dining room chair. He led you towards the door swiftly grabbing it and opening the door. You followed him out reluctantly. 

The drive to the base was uneventful aside from your occasional worrying that was quelled by your alpha quickly. You can't help but feel more on edge than you usually would, but you can't put a finger on why. König pulled up to the massive, barbed wire-lined fence. A man in full military gear and a large gun strolled up to the window. You hadn't noticed that König out his hood in a while back. He rolled the window down and quickly flashed his ID to the soldier. The man nodded and waved his hand in the air. The gate slid open almost painfully slowly. König placed a hand on your thigh as he drove slowly through the base. It helped calm you for the time being. 

There was a large building with a few dozen cars parked outside. König Parked the SUV rather haphazardly a good distance away from the entrance. When you opened the door you heard faint music coming from the building and lots of voices and laughter. Your alpha lapped the car and met you on the passenger side. You started to walk towards the door but he stopped you.

“What is the matter, Schatz?” His eyes softly gazed down at you. 

“Nothing is wrong, I'm fine.” You said quickly.

“If you are uncomfortable, we can go.” He gently caressed your cheek., his scent enveloping your senses. 

“I'm ok, I'm just a little nervous.” Deep down you knew something was off, but you were confident you could get through this night. 

“Shcatz, You forgot your collar.” König said nonchalantly.

You gasped and your hand flew up to your neck covering your exposed scent glands. 

“Oh no! Why didn't you tell me? Now I'm gonna stink up a storm in there.” You turned around embarrassed and even more on edge. 

Your Alpha said nothing, he simply opened the back door of the car and pulled out a small black bag before closing the door. He spun you around by the waist to face him waving the bag in front of you. You glanced at him unsure before taking the bag. König gave you a small nod waiting for you to open it. Inside was a large square jewelry box. When you opened it it held the most beautiful gold metal collar. The one you looked at from the boutique a while ago. 

“König....” You truly didn't know what to say. Tears pricked your eyes but you quickly wiped them away and replaced them with a smile. 

“Thank you, Alpha.” You said while wrapping your arms around his middle. 

He held you close and kissed the top of your head through his hood gently. He pulled away and took the collar out of its box. He clasped it around your neck locking it with the provided key. It fit perfectly, you could barely tell it was there. König held the small key out for you to take but you shook your head. 

“Keep it safe for me Alpha.” You said giving him a warm smile. 

Although you couldn't see his face, you could tell he was happy you trusted him with the key. König held out his elbow for you to hold and led you towards the event. You were still nervous but you brushed it off, you had someone there to protect you. The large hall was buzzing with conversation. Most people were sitting around in large groups having conversations and others were at the bar. There were string lights hung all around the ceiling giving the place a relaxing atmosphere. König led you to the bar eager to get a drink. Parties are not you or your Alpha's natural element.

He ordered a beer for himself and a gin and tonic for you. As you waited you glanced around taking in the different people. You were probably one of the very few omegas. You could tell who was military and who wasn't very easily. Some were still in uniform, others wore masks or dog tags. Some soldiers brought a plus one but it was a minority. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching. You turned to see a familiar mohawk. 

“Hey! There they are!” Soap exclaimed pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. You could smell the alcohol on him. 

“Hey, soap.” You eked out while being squeezed. 

Soap turned to König and gave the large Apex a hug as well. König grunted, a little uncomfortable with the contact but patted his back affectionately. 

“We've been waiting for you two to get here, everyone wants to meet the Colonel's Mrs.” His Scottish accent was thick and slightly slurred. 

The bartender set your drinks down and you quickly scooped yours up and took a sip. Soap led both of you away toward a group of men. You lingered behind König slightly allowing him to greet the group first. Soap announced your name loudly sparing König of the burden. You waved shyly giving everyone a small smile. Everyone greeted you and your Alpha before returning to the conversation they were having. You were grateful the attention on you didn't last as you could sip your cocktail and listen to the drunken ramblings of the soldiers. 

As the night dragged on, you met various people. You chatted with Ghost a bit and met Captain Price, as well as Gaz. Though the drunker people go the more rowdy things become. You sat on a chair near the group, only on your second drink. Your Alpha was loosening up after four. Soap suggested they go out to the field and play football, challenging Ghost to a team match. The whole group along with some others from the party joined them outside. König glanced over at you. 

“Will you be ok if I join them?” He asked gingerly.

“Of course, go have fun.” You gave him a reassuring smile. 

You watched him follow his coworkers out of the door into the frigid night. You decided to hang out at the bar as your drink was almost done. Although the night has been fine so far there was still something nagging in the back of your head. You plopped down on one of the bar stools and ordered another drink. Good thing this event had an open bar. You scrolled on your phone for a while not noticing how fast an hour has passed. An Alpha sat on the bar stool next to yours sighing loudly. You didn't bother acknowledging him as many people have sat there in the time that has passed. 

“It's a nice night huh? Not too cold.” The guy said in a European accent you can't place. 

You looked up from your phone. “Oh, are you talking to me?” 

“Yeah, I am. So uh, are you a new recruit or?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh no, I'm just a visitor.” You glanced back at your phone hoping he would leave you alone. 

“I've never seen an omega like you.” 

“An omega like me?” You looked at him puzzled.

“Yeah, you're so exotic. I thought omegas like you have to stay in your own countries.” He said while taking a sip of his drink. 

“Well, that's rude and extremely ignorant.” You scowled at him.

“Come on, it's a compliment. I mean I knew your kind your be spicy but damn.” He chuckled. 

You took that as your cue to leave. And you stood up from the bar your felt a tug on the crown of your head. 

“I mean, is this even your real hair?” He rubbed the hair he grabbed in between his fingers. 

You ripped away from his grip. “What is wrong with you?! Don't touch me!” You yelled. Everyone at the bar turned to look in your direction. 

“Relax, I'm just joking around.” The Alpha said trying to diffuse the situation. 

“You don't touch a random person's hair, who raised you?!” 

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder gently from behind. The Alpha you were confronting turned pale. 

“Schatz? What did he do?” Your Alpha asked lowly.

 You turned to face König anger still written all over your face. As angry as you were, you wanted this to be a teaching moment for this young Alpha. You turned back to the Alpha who was standing up now sweat forming on his face. 

“Nothing Alpha, this guy just needs to watch where he's going, right?” You eyed him carefully. 

“Yes! Yes, I'm very sorry miss.” He looked down at your feet. 

You looked up at König who seemed unconvinced. He was staring daggers into the young Alpha. You saw König take a deep breath closing his eyes while doing so. When he opened them he looked down at you.

“Time to go, it's a long drive home.” He placed a hand on the small of your back and led you out.

 Some people glanced in your direction as you left. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You hurried to the car in an effort to get out of the cold. König opened your door for you and helped you slide into the passenger seat. 

“I forgot something inside, I'll be right back.” He said quickly shutting the door and storming back inside the building. 

You couldn't tell if he was about to torture that soldier or not. But you did what you could, if he gets in trouble it's his own fault. König came back out no more than two minutes later. As he started the car, you got cozy relishing in the heated air. 

“What did you forget?” You ask him.

“I had a project for Ghost, I had to tell him about it.”

“Hmm.” You responded, not buying it completely. 

As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.

As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König shook you awake gently. “We're home.”

You stirred and sat up stretching gently. You felt warm, a little too warm. Did you drink that much? You followed König into the apartment and kicked off your shoes at the door. That's when the cramp hit you. It was so painful it made you dizzy causing you to stumble. König caught you by the arm and ushered you to the couch.

“Schatz? You're burning up.” He laid you down and hurried to the kitchen.

You felt the sweat forming on your brow. Your heat had come early. You whined into the couch cushions trying to breathe through the dull achy pain. König brought some water and sat you up to drink.

“Why didn't you tell me your heat was coming?” he said concerned.

“Early...it came early.”

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@tizylish @thychuvaluswife

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[stylesispunk]

"The not so invisible string" | part 3

not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

summary: you and Joel were made right for each other in the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

word count:8k>

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, fluff.

a/n: Hello! Well, it took me almost two weeks to write something, and it was hard because I had no inspiration, so this is probably my worst piece of writing. However, I hope you enjoy it, The next chapter will be better because I have inspo for that one. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 You can always send asks or talk to me whenever you want. Again, sorry for the chapter, i promise the next one will be better 😭

masterlist

dividers by @/saradika

When's the exact point in life when you stop feeling excitement for what's to come? Growing up becomes a deadly fear creeping within your bones because there's no more dreams left for you, but you face the cruel reality of life becoming a cycle, a boring idea of waking up to survive the day instead of living it, when you face that the ideas you grew up with died with the years passing by.

But now, as you approached Joel’s place of work, the familiar rush of butterflies and excitement began to creep back in. You felt like a teenager before a first date with the person you like. Just as you were breaking down, Joel came back, pulling you into perspective.

You had recalled the three happiest days of your life: the first time you held Tara in your arms, the first kiss with Joel, and the day you met Joel. Even though the last happened at such a young age, you should have forgotten about them by now.

The car pulled into the parking lot of Joel's workplace, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves.

Finally, you arrived at Joel's office. The door stood ajar, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking. The sound reverberated in the room, and Joel looked up from his desk, a warm smile breaking across his face.

It has been days since the first time you saw him again, and your heart was getting used to the idea of him surrounding you again.

"Hey," he said, rising from his chair. "I'm glad you came."

You offered a polite smile in return. "Well, you promised me a job or something.”

Joel gestured for you to take a seat. "Absolutely, I'm excited to discuss it with you."

Once you took a seat, he was speechless for a moment once again, his gaze fixed on you, on your hair, on your eyes, on your lips, and all over your face when he used to kiss you all over every time he wanted to, but he dismissed those thoughts away before you could notice he was looking at you that way.

"I've been thinking," Joel began, breaking the momentary silence, "about how we can make this work, about the job, about us working together."

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“"I know it's not just a job," he admitted. "It's a sort of chance for the both of us to rekindle our friendship.”

Friendship—how bad he wanted to be the romance.

“So is this a trap?” you asked.

“A trap? No,” he answered. “You know, all this construction stuff is not your cup of tea, but I would really like for you to help me get things organized here.”

“Why?” Your eyebrows frowned.

Joel leaned back in his chair, a contemplative expression on his face. "Because it was you who used to organize my life before, and you’re the most organized person I know.”

Your eyebrows raised slightly at his unexpected compliment, and the nostalgia in his eyes was evident.

"Joel, we need to be clear about our boundaries here," you emphasized, steering the conversation back to the work matter before it led to other things. "I'm here for a job, not to rekindle old flames or revisit the past. We have responsibilities, and our daughters are involved. Let's keep it professional."

He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I agree. Professional, it is. We're both adults, and I’m your boss now,” he smirked at the last sentence.

You chuckled at Joel's playful remark. "Fair enough, boss. Let's get down to the details, then. What exactly would my role be, and what are the expectations?"

Joel leaned forward, outlining the scope of the position and the responsibilities that needed your attention.

As you settled into the chair, Joel began outlining the job details, providing a comprehensive overview of the responsibilities involved. Your focus remained on the professional aspects of the conversation, but every now and then, a shared glance or a subtle reference to the past hinted at the layers of history between you.

Midway through the discussion, the door creaked open, and you turned to see Tommy entering the room.

"Am I interrupting something?" Tommy asked, glancing between Joel and you. His eyes widened, and a smile broke across his face as he recognized you.

"I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "Wow, I didn't expect to see you here. It's been so many years!"

Joel stood up, wearing a grin. "Tommy, I introduce you to our new assistant.”

You extended a hand, but Tommy went straight up for a hug. "I’m really happy to see you again.”

“I say the same,” you replied with a smile, feeling a warmth in reconnecting with Tommy.

Tommy's eyes sparkled with nostalgia. "Well, it's great to have you back in the picture. Joel rarely brings people here, so you know what that means?” He paused a moment to look at you again. "Wow, you look just as beautiful as I remember.”

You exchanged a curious glance with Joel, knowing the implication behind Tommy's words.

Joel rolled his eyes, a bashful grin on his face. "Tommy, stop making it sound like a big deal."

"Hey, I'm just stating the facts," Tommy replied, winking at you. "Anyway, I'll leave you two to your business. Nice to see you again."

As Tommy exited the room, you turned back to Joel, the air carrying a subtle shift in dynamics.

As the conversation progressed, you found yourself immersed in work-related discussions, temporarily setting aside your shared history. The task at hand became the priority, and you delved into the details of the job, determined to establish clear professional boundaries in this unexpected turn of events in your life.

As the weeks passed by, Joel and you got used to your new routine; seeing each other added some excitement back to your life again, and you couldn’t help but feel nostalgia for what you once had been together, bringing back the memories of the past, while the fresh cultivated growth between you added a new purpose to your days.

And as if the present would want to get the memories of your history together as two strings connecting your lives, you came back from a meeting with some suppliers with a scraped knee.

As you limped back into the office, Joel noticed your discomfort and immediately became concerned. "What happened?" he asked, his brows furrowed with worry.

"Just a little accident during the meeting," you replied, trying to play it off. But Joel could see through the facade, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

He still knew you so well.

“They didn’t hit me, by the way; I fell. Just to clarify” you smiled, as Joel reached for the first aid kit, no long after, he was kneeling beside you, carefully cleaning and applying a band-aid to your scraped knee. The touch of his hands brought back a flood of memories—the innocence of childhood and the way he used to caressed your skin as you grew up.

As he secured the band-aid in place, Joel couldn't help but smile. "Do you remember the first time I did this?" he said, his tone nostalgic.

You chuckled, nodding. "How could I forget? It seems like a lifetime ago."

Joel's gaze held a warmth that transcended time, and in that moment, the lines between past and present blurred. He placed his hand over your knee, and his touch made your skin burn at the contact, but not in an uncomfortable way, but as a warm sensation that only he was able to give.

"Joel,” you whispered.

Joel's touch lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. There was a silent understanding between you, a connection that surpassed words.

"Sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. "I just wanted to make sure it's secure."

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and familiarity. "Thanks, Joel. For taking care of me.”

A smile played on his lips, and he stood up, disposing of the used bandage. "Anytime, Doe.”

Your hearts kept beating at the same sound and at the same rhythm, desperately finding a way to belong to each other again.

Two days later, in the evening, as you were getting dinner ready for Dwight and Tara, Dwight suggested inviting Joel and Sarah over for dinner since it seemed like you and his daughter seemed to enjoy their presence so much.

“What? Why?” you asked, being caught off guard by the suggestion of having Joel share the same table with your husband.

“Well, it seems like Tara is a good friend with his daughter. Plus, it would be good to know this so famous Joel.”

You couldn't deny the truth in Dwight's words, but the idea of having Joel and Sarah over for dinner still stirred up complex emotions. Not for Sarah, of course. But Joel meeting the man you had settled with seemed so out of touch.

"Why not?" Tara chimed in, trying to reassure you. "It'll be nice having them over."

After a moment of contemplation, you sighed. "Alright, let's do it. But keep it simple, okay?” You turned to Dwight and said, “Please, behave.”

Dwight nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "Simple it is. It's just a friendly dinner, no strings attached."

You took a deep breath, considering the implications. "Alright, I'll call Joel. But let's keep it casual.”

You dialed Joel's number, and after a few rings, he answered. "Hey, Doe, what's up?"

You smiled at the nickname this time. Since having him back, you were getting so used to his presence that you almost loved that word slipping from his lips.

"Joel, we were thinking of having you and Sarah over for dinner. Just something simple," you explained, trying to keep the tone casual.

There was a brief pause before Joel responded, "Dinner sounds great. We'd love to. What time?"

Joel agreed to the time you offered. You felt painful anticipation and nervousness after hanging up the phone.

+

As soon as you heard a car pulling over in front of your house, your heart rate increased at the nervousness you felt for what could be happening as soon as Joel entered that door. You feared Dwight the most. He wasn’t a bad man, but he clearly was someone different from the person you had married; his recent behavior had been puzzling, almost as if he wanted to drive you away. The thought of potential humiliation loomed, and you couldn't shake off the unease in your mind.

“I’ll welcome our guests,” he said, standing on the couch. You nodded, trying to mask the worry on your face.

As Dwight greeted Joel and Sarah at the door, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself in the kitchen. The sounds of casual conversation and laughter echoed from the living room.

You walked there, approaching Joel, who was wearing a really tight smile, trying not to make you uncomfortable.

“Hi!” you exclaimed, trying to erase the shakiness from your bones.

"Hey," Joel replied, his smile mirroring yours, but there was an unease in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed.

Dwight led everyone to the living room, and as they settled in, you couldn't shake off the tension in the air. Tara and Sarah, however, seemed eager to catch up, leaving you and Joel with a shared glance, reflecting the tiny smile at seeing both of your daughters spending time together.

“So, uhm, babe, why don’t you serve dinner? Our guests must be starving already!”

Dwight's casual comment lingered in the air, and you nodded, forcing a smile as you made your way to the kitchen. Joel followed suit, excusing himself from the conversation in the living room.

Once in the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted. You began to cut some vegetables for the salad, the clatter of utensils masking the quiet tension in the room.

Joel, sensing the unease, spoke up, "Do you need help?"

You glanced at him, grateful for the lifeline. "Sure, if you can handle chopping some vegetables."

As you worked side by side, the silence between you spoke louder than words. The weight of unspoken history loomed, and each passing moment felt like a delicate dance on a tightrope.

Joel broke the silence, his voice hushed. "Are you okay?"

You offered a tight smile, avoiding eye contact. "I'm fine. I'm just trying to get through the evening."

He nodded, respecting the boundaries between the two of you. Ever since you two had rekindled your relationship and friendship, you had become more open to him, yet being in your house as the wife of another man was completely different. He felt tense, yet he wanted to be fine for you.

With the vegetables chopped and the dinner done, Joel and you walked around the kitchen as if nothing had ever changed between the two of you. The warmth of shared memories collided with the reality of the present once more.

It was Friday night, and you and Joel stood side by side at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables and exchanging stories from the day. Joel’s fingers brushed against yours as you reached for spice—a simple touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

As you prepared the ingredients, Joel leaned in, whispering the steps of the recipe in your ear. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a rush of heat through you. Cooking had never been more enjoyable now than when you were living together, sharing stolen kisses in the middle of a kitchen transformed into a space where time seemed to stand still.

How bad you wanted time to stand still yet.

As the final touches were put on the dinner plates, Joel hesitated, his voice once again breaking the silence. "I never imagined us in a situation like this."

You paused, glancing at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, me being in the kitchen with you in the house you live in with your daughter and husband.”

The weight of his words echoed the sentiments you both shared but didn't dare voice. "Well, things change,” you replied, your tone carrying the weight of time passing by.

With the dinner ready, you both carried the plates to the dining table. Everyone sat down, Tara and Sarah sat side by side, and Dwight, seemingly at ease, directed the conversation toward casual topics, creating an illusion of normalcy.

Joel sat across from you, his eyes occasionally meeting yours, looking for an answer.

“So, Joel,” Dwight began, "what do you do for a living?”

“Building contractor,” he replied, a little bit tense.

“Building contractor” Dwight recalled, “We’re calling you when something gets broken.”

Joel chuckled, a nervous smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, something like that. Fixing things is what I do." He mocked.

Dwight nodded approvingly, steering the conversation away from the unspoken tension. "Well, it's good to have someone handy around. You never know when a pipe might burst or a door might get jammed."

“He is a contractor, not your personal Plummer,” you intervened, a little bit tense with Dwight's careless attitude.

Joel looked at you appreciatively, and you could sense his relief at your intervention. Dwight chuckled, a casual dismissal in his tone. "Well, fixing things is fixing things, right? It's all in the same realm."

You sighed inwardly, realizing that Dwight's nonchalant approach was his way of diffusing the tension, but it didn't alleviate the unease in the air. Joel shifted uncomfortably, sensing the delicate nature of the conversation.

“Maybe he could fix that attitude of yours,” Dwight said, swiping his wine as he pointed out your attitude.

You raised an eyebrow at Dwight's comment, with surprise and hurt crossing your face. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, and Joel let out a forced chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Come on, Dwight," Joel said with a half-smile, "we're all just figuring things out here. There is no need for any fixing, just understanding."

Dwight leaned back in his chair, a playful glint in his eye. "Fair enough, fair enough. I can take a joke. But seriously, Joel, you're welcome here. Just promise you won't go stealing my wife without a warning.”

Joel's forced chuckle faded into an uncomfortable silence as Dwight's comment took an unexpected turn. The atmosphere in the room became more palpably strained, and you exchanged a quick glance with Joel, recognizing the need to address the comment delicately.

“Tara, can you and Sarah go upstairs, please?” you pleaded. She immediately understood and took her friend with her upstairs.

Once they were out of sight, you turned to Dwight. “Stop behaving like an idiot in front of others,” you warned.

Dwight's playful demeanor shifted as he met your stern gaze. The air in the room carried the weight of your warning, and for a moment, the unspoken tension became more palpable.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood," Dwight responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

"Well, then lighten the mood without making inappropriate jokes," you countered, your voice firm.

Joel, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nodded in agreement. "She's right. Let's try to keep things civil and avoid unnecessary complications."

Dwight sighed, realizing he had crossed a line. "Fine, fine. I'll tone it down. No more jokes.” He paused for a moment, not looking at you. “But I would like to know why my wife hides that you are actually her boyfriend.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Dwight's question hung in the air. You felt the weight of his words, and Joel's eyes met yours.

“Actually, I think I better be going. It’s getting late,” Joel spoke, meeting your watered gaze.

“No, you’re not,” Dwight warned. His expression remained firm, and he spoke with an authoritative tone. "Joel, you're a guest here, and we should resolve this now. We're all adults, and we can handle an honest conversation."

Joel hesitated, caught between the desire to avoid further conflict and the weight of the unspoken truths that lingered in the room. He glanced at you, silently seeking guidance. You took a deep breath, recognizing the need to address the situation.

"Dwight, we need to handle this with care," you urged, your tone calm yet firm. "Joel has the right to leave if he feels uncomfortable. We can discuss things more openly when tensions have cooled down."

“I want to know why you lied to me about it,” Dwight said to you.

In your nervousness, Joel noticed you were uncomfortable. He reached for you to touch your shoulder in order to make you feel better, but before he could come closer, Dwight intervened.

“Don’t touch her,” Dwight warned.

Joel withdrew, a frown forming on his face, but he respected Dwight's demand. The room fell into an uneasy silence as the unspoken complexities of the situation continued to unfold. The need for a careful and honest conversation was evident, but the challenge was maintaining a level of respect and understanding in the face of rising tensions.

"We need to talk about this," you said, your voice steady. "But let's do it when we can all approach the conversation calmly and with an intention to understand, not to accuse."

Dwight nodded, his expression still stern. "Fine, but we will address this. No more hiding."

+

Later, as you and Dwight prepared for bed, the weight of the unspoken conversation loomed over you. Dwight, however, was not ready to let the matter rest.

"Before we go to sleep, can we talk about this?" he asked, his tone earnest.

You hesitated, fully aware that addressing the issue in your current emotional state would only escalate matters further. Instead of responding directly, you began gathering a few belongings, making your intention to spend the night in the guest room clear.

"I just need some space tonight," you explained, avoiding eye contact. "We can talk about everything in the morning when we've had time to think."

Dwight's expression shifted between frustration and concern. "I just want to understand, to know the truth."

"I know," you replied, your voice softening. "And we will talk. But not tonight."

“You’re married to me,” he called out before you stepped out of the room.

You turned to face him, your expression displaying frustration. “And?”

“You own me respect,” he stated.

“Respect must be earned, and right now you are acting like an idiot,” you acknowledged, your voice steady.

With that, you left the room, leaving Dwight to contemplate his behavior. Right now, you felt your marriage was dying little by little, and you wanted nothing more than just freedom.

+++

The next morning, there was a palpable sense of tension in the atmosphere. As you prepared for the day, the weight of the unresolved talk with Dwight hung heavy in your mind. He was nowhere to be found during the morning, so you get ready for the day.

After a restless night, you decided to head into work, hoping that a change of scenery and a return to routine might provide a necessary distraction. As you made your way to Joel’s office, you noticed Joel sitting with quiet contemplation in his eyes.

"Morning," you greeted, offering a tentative smile.

"Morning," Joel replied, his expression mirroring the unease in the room.

"Oh, I just wanted to say sorry for last night," you began, choosing your words carefully. " Dwight's attitude was completely

Joel shook his head, a small smile breaking through. "It's not your fault. Beside, I can handle a bit of tension."

You appreciated his understanding with a tiny smile.

“Did you sleep well, though? You seem restless,” he pointed out.

You sighed, acknowledging the toll the previous night had taken on your peace of mind. "Not really. The atmosphere was a bit... tense."

Joel's gaze softened, understanding the weight of the situation. “Well, I’m sorry for being back in your life,” he joked.

“Don’t say that,” you tilted your head. “You’re the best thing that happened to me this last time.”

Joel's smile widened at your words; the tension in the room was momentarily replaced with a warm exchange. "Well, if that's the case, I'm glad to be back." He paused and said, “Take your time. Relationships are like construction projects. They need a solid foundation and careful planning."

With a chuckle, you responded, "You would know, being a building contractor and all."

As the day unfolded, you found yourself grateful for Joel's presence and the brief moments of levity he brought. It was a reminder that, amidst the uncertainties, a supportive connection could make the uncharted territory feel a bit less daunting.

+++++

“By the way, Sarah called me; she and Tara are going to my house to finish this school project,” Joel told you.

A sense of relief washed over you as Joel shared the news about Sarah and Tara. It provided a welcomed diversion from the complex situation you had at home.

"Oh, that's great," you replied, a genuine smile forming. "At least they have each other's company. I hope the project is going well."

“It’s great how they became friends so easily. It reminds me of us,” he said, smiling.

You couldn't help but smile at Joel's observation. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?”

Joel nodded in agreement, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. “Okay, so you’re free to go; I can drive Tara home once they’re done with the project.”

You nodded appreciatively at Joel's offer. "That would be great, thanks. And thanks for being here, Joel," you said, expressing gratitude for the fresh air he had offered you since he became part of your life again "It means a lot."

Joel nodded, a reassuring presence. "Take your time, and remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. We'll get through this."

“See you later, then?”

“See you later, Doe”

+++++

Once you arrived back home, Dwight was there. The tension already felt like a string around your neck, suffocating you all over.

As you stepped back into the house, the familiar surroundings felt charged with tension. You both exchanged a cautious glance, each aware of the elephant in the room. Dwight, however, seemed to be avoiding the topic, engaging in mundane conversations through his phone with someone else.

After some time, when you could no longer bear the unspoken tension, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Dwight, we need to talk about last night. We can't just ignore it."

He sighed, a subtle avoidance in his eyes. "Can't it wait? I've got a work trip coming up, and I need to get everything sorted."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your expression. "A work trip? You're leaving for the whole weekend?"

Dwight nodded, his gaze drifting away. "Yeah, well, I’ll come back next Friday. It's a last-minute thing. I need to handle some important projects. It came up unexpectedly."

The timing felt convenient yet suspicious. The air thickened with unspoken questions, but Dwight continued to divert the conversation away from the pressing issues.

"Dwight, we can't keep avoiding this," you insisted, your voice firm. "We need to address what happened."

"I know, I know," he replied, a hint of impatience in his tone. "But I've got to leave now, and I need to get some rest. Can we talk when I get back?"

The evasion felt deliberate, leaving you frustrated and with a sense of urgency to address the unresolved matters. However, faced with the impending work trip, Dwight's departure seemed inevitable.

"Fine," you reluctantly agreed, though the unease lingered. "But when you get back, we're talking about this. No more avoiding."

Dwight nodded, though his expression remained distant, but still he pecked your lips.

“Take care, and take care of Tara,” he said before stepping out of the house.

You were left there in the middle of a living room that felt colder as the days passed by. You have never felt so small in your life as you were feeling now, living under the same moon as Dwight, and that thought alone made you sick.

Every time sadness overcomes you and salty tears stream out of your eyes, you take out your memory box and look at the pictures of your older self, the one who thought she knew everything, the one who thought she knew herself without her half. Every single time you came across those memories, it was Joel, the one beside you, looking at you as if you were hanging the moon in the sky, and you smiled.

When you looked at the pictures of him, you were relieved by the words and the kisses, and suddenly all the space surrounding you was full of him. You had come to terms with the fact that you weren’t complete without him; he lived inside you because he made you feel complete; he taught you how to love and be loved and how to know you were worth the world; and after him, you accepted that you were never going to be that foolish girl again.

But now, you were in front of his door, hesitating and gathering the courage to knock on the door and face the what if, and when Joel opened the door with surprise on his face, you were him, and he was you.

"Oh. You’re not a pizza guy,” he said, with evident surprise in his voice.

You managed a small smile at Joel's observation, appreciating the brief moment of levity. "No, not the pizza guy. But I was alone at my house, and I thought I could stop by and take Tara home.”

“Actually, I promised the girls a pizza; we were just about to.“

"Oh, okay, I can come later,” you interrupted, feeling ashamed of the sudden feeling you have to be closer to him again.

“What are you talking about? Of course, no, come here,” he said, moving from the door entrance to allow you to step into his house.

This was the first time you were here, and you couldn’t help but recall all the features of Joel that made him him. How those tiny objects and decorations around his house told the story of him, and how would it be if you didn’t leave that night?

“Such a cozy home.” You emphasize the word home since this one felt like one.

Joel smiled warmly at your compliment. "Thanks. I try to make it feel like home. Come on in; make yourself comfortable."

Suddenly, his hand traveled to your waist, guiding you through his house, and the air was cut from your lungs. Your eyes met for a second, and his hand left his spot; however, his handprint still burned.

However, Joel guided you toward the living room, where Tara and Sarah were eagerly setting up the table for their promised dinner. The girls looked up, their faces lighting up with surprise and excitement.

"Hey, look who's here!" Joel announced, his tone cheerful as he entered the living room with Sarah and Tara. The girls greeted you warmly, their excitement contagious.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Tara asked, walking towards you to envelope you in a tight embrace.

You hug Tara and say, "I thought I'd drop by and join you guys for pizza." You lied.

I felt alone; you thought for yourself only.

Sarah chimed in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Are you staying for the movie night too?"

You looked at Joel curious; he still had Friday's movie night. “I supposed,” you answered, still looking at Joel. “Can I?

"Absolutely,” Joel said, not taking his gaze away from yours.

“What about my dad?” Tara asked, “Is he okay with this?”

“Well, he left for a business trip, so we are alone for the weekend,” you replied.

And before more questions could be asked, the doorbell rang.

“The pizza, I’ll go for it,” Joel announced, disappearing from your view.

“Mom, are you okay?” Tara asked, concerned.

You gave Tara a reassuring smile. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I just wanted to spend some time with you and have a fun movie night."

Tara nodded, still showing a hint of concern. "If you ever need to talk or anything..."

"Thank you, Tara. I appreciate that," you replied, grateful for her caring nature.

As Joel returned with the pizza, the evening continued with shared laughter, conversation, and the simple joy of spending time together. The movie Night became a bridge connecting the past and the present, offering a glimpse into the potential for renewed connections.

The living room, adorned with warmth and laughter, and everything between you and Joel felt so natural as if time didn’t pass by.

You didn’t notice, but Tara paid attention to the both of you with a smile on her face. This exact moment was the picture she had always imagined of a happy family. A happy mother, a father who didn’t need to utter words to show the love he felt for the woman beside him, because she saw in Joel’s eyes the way he looked at you as if you were the brightest star in the sky, that man loved you, and she felt at ease.

“You know, you can stay the night." Joel offered you, once Sarah and Tara fell asleep in Sarah’s room, “You can take my bed and I can take the couch.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the implications of Joel's suggestion. It was completely fine for a pair of friends, but you weren’t just that, and you both know that behind all the reconnection, there was addiction to something you couldn’t possess.

"I appreciate the offer, Joel," you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. "But I should head to my house.”

“But you don’t deserve to go to a lonely house,” he said, trying to plead with you about the idea of spending a night with you under the same roof. He started to feel a joy inside his gut, all his feelings hidden there.

You could sense concern in Joel’s voice and see the pleading dancing in his eyes, but saying yes to him felt like steeping into fire. You still saw in Joel all the habits he picked up from you, being the pleading eyes one of the things you remembered the most, and now you could understand the implications of what your departure did to him.

His heart broke in two, just like yours.

"I appreciate the concern, Joel, but I don’t think it is fair to you," you said, your voice gentle.

“Please?” He pleaded again, his eyes sparkling so much that you could follow the light on them.

“Okay, I’ll stay.” You gave up; you couldn’t say “no” to him so many times.

You saw his dark brown eyes twinkling as he nodded, smiling at your answer.

"Thank you," Joel whispered, breaking into a small, relieved smile.

You followed him into the familiar surroundings of his home; every step felt like discovering a new way back home. A sense of warmth enveloped you, making you feel protected and comfortable in Joel´s presence.

Once you stepped into his bedroom, you took a seat on his bed, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The familiar scent of Joel was all over the space that you could navigate inside this wall blindfolded, and the comforting presence of him felt like a step back in time.

Joel, sensing something dancing in your eyes, opened his closet and pulled out a set of comfortable clothes. "Here, you can wear these for the night. They should be comfortable enough."

“Oh my god!” you said, looking at the shirt Joel had lent you. “You still have this?” you asked him, in awe.

Joel chuckled, the warmth of shared memories evident in his eyes. "Yeah, I kept it. It's been tucked away in the back, but I figured it might come in handy tonight."

Your fingers traced the fabric of the shirt. "I can't believe you still have it. It feels like a lifetime ago."

He smiled, a nostalgic twinkle in his eyes. "Some things are hard to let go."

For a moment, time between you stopped, and for a moment, you were still able to see the sunlight through his hair in the morning and how he sounded when he laughed. And you hoped you didn’t damage his heart that much.

"Thanks, Joel. It's been a while since I wore something from your closet." The soft fabric of the shirt still carried a subtle scent of Joel that brought back a flood of memories.

He chuckled a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Yeah, it has. Well, I'll let you get some rest. Goodnight, Doe."

Doe

You allowed him to call him Doe this time, pretending he was still yours and you were his.

"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, changing into the borrowed clothes. The fabric held a hint of his familiar scent, adding an extra layer of comfort as you settled beneath the covers. The bedroom door closed, leaving you in the soft embrace of memories as sleep gradually claimed you.

However, the soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the windows as you lay in bed and witnessed your sleeping trouble as you tried to find solace in the familiar surroundings of Joel’s room.

It was different. Sleeping in a bed with the scent of the man whose presence allowed you to sleep wasn’t the same when he wasn’t next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest.

So, as sleep proved elusive, and after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you decided to go downstairs, hoping Joel was awake.

As you descended the stairs, the hushed sounds of the night filled the house. The soft creaking of the floor under your weight was the only disruption to the silence. When you reached the living room, you saw Joel sitting on the couch, his gaze fixed on an old photo album.

He seemed lost in a sea of memories, unaware of your presence. You stood there for a moment, observing the emotions playing across his face as he traced the images with his fingers, as if he were savoring the past with his fingertips, trying to bring it back.

When he finally noticed you, a small smile curled his lips. "Couldn't you sleep either?

You shook your head, joining him on the couch. "Too many thoughts."

He nodded in understanding, closing the photo album. "I get it."

Back in time, Joel had the advantage of taking your heart when it was still a blank canvas expecting to be painted on. He took it so delicately and caressed it with such care in order to never hurt you. He made you love him so much that once he wasn’t in your life anymore, you didn’t know where to put his love anymore.

It never left.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on the closed photo album in his hands. "Sometimes, I wish we could go back," he admitted, his voice a soft whisper.

You sighed, the ache of longing settling in your chest. “Back when?”

"When we were young and foolish, everything felt so alive."

As you looked at Joel, his eyes held a warmth that transcended the years. "We can't change the past, Joel," you said, your voice gentle. “The past made us what we are now.”

“Yet it cost me to lose you,” he said.

You took a seat beside him on the couch; the distance between you measured not in physical space but in the vast expanse of years and the unspoken words that lingered in the air.

"I lost you too," you replied, your voice a whisper. The weight of the shared regret hung between you, a palpable reminder of the choices that had shaped your lives. "But maybe, in losing each other, we found different paths, different versions of ourselves."

Joel's gaze remained on the photo album, his fingers tracing patterns on the closed cover. "Do you ever wonder about what we could have been?”

"Always," you confessed. "But you don’t lose me at all; I’m here again.”

A small smile played on Joel's lips. His fingers gently cupped your face, his touch a tender exploration of the years that had etched themselves on your skin. His thumb traced the contours of your cheekbones, a soft caress that spoke longing and love.

Leaning in, Joel brought his forehead to rest against yours, the closeness of your proximity stirring memories of when you belonged together. The air between you crackled with unspoken emotions, and inside your chest, you felt your broken heart patching together, with such a burning desire to close the distance between the two of you.

His lips hovered close to yours, a breath away, the pull of history and the magnetic force of shared affection urging him forward. The world outside the quiet living room ceased to exist, and you found yourself caught in the gravitational pull of an unfinished story.

But even when the kiss could rewrite the story, you weren’t a cheater. You heart raced, but your mind stopped doing something stupid and naïve.

Before you could make up your mind completely, Joel pulled back, his eyes searching yours. The unspoken words lingered in the air.

"Does he treat you right?" Joel's words hung in the air, a mix of genuine concern and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

You took a moment, your gaze meeting his, and there was a silent conversation between you two.

"In some ways, he's everything I need. In others, he's a puzzle I'm still figuring out." You answered.

Joel nodded, avoiding your gaze as he felt his heart break all over again for you.

“When I found out I was pregnant,” you began, “Dwight and I were dating. It had been only three months, and couples aren’t parents in such a short time.” You paused for a moment, hoping for Joel to look at you again, and when he did, you continued, “I was scared, but he was so nice to me at that moment, and by the end we were over the moon. At least I was happy I was going to have a baby girl. When Tara was born, we moved in together, and long story short, we got married because it seemed correct at the time.

“And?” Joel asked, trying to figure out when your life becomes different, but he still knew by the way your eyes looked that not everything was as fine as it seemed.

“He was an amazing husband and friend; it almost made me forget about the broken heart I had because of you. But these last four years with him had been complicated,” you continued, a touch of vulnerability in your voice.

“How?”

"Just because he is different from me. It’s like he is plotting for an ending and Tara is noticing, and it felt so humiliating to have your own daughter notice her father doesn’t love her mother.”

Joel's gaze softened for a moment, and before asking a question, he was scared to ask, “And do you love him?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden question, and a moment of hesitation hung in the air. You took a deep breath before answering.

"It's not that simple," you admitted, your voice carrying uncertainty and honesty. "I care about him, but..."

“But what?”

“You know what.” You said it in three simple words, and he understood.

It cost so much to keep love from going wrong, but between you and Joel, there wasn’t a particular ending. The lovers between you both never went wrong; neither expired because you were still hungry for each other's devotion. But now that it seemed like time had become your enemy, you weren’t young enough to break free and run as you could have done it before.

“I love you,” he said. “Never stop doing it.” His voice resonated as someone who spent years and years yearning for the touch of their lover.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed, not avoiding saying the three words back to him; he didn’t need to hear them. He already knew you loved him back as much as he loved you. “For the way I left you,”

Joel's gaze held relief and understanding. He knew somehow you had healed from those wounds. "I don't blame you, Doe. We were young, and life threw challenges at us. I've had my share of regrets too.” He reached out, his hand finding yours, and they still fit together as one. “Now, can we please be friends again?” he pleaded.

You nodded, a faint smile playing on your lips. “Now that you’re back, I couldn’t let you go.”

Joel's eyes sparkled with a newfound light, and he suggested, "How about we watch a movie until you fall asleep?"

You agreed, and together you settled on the couch. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV screen, casting a warm ambiance that seemed to cocoon the two of you in a world of shared moments.

As the movie played, the silence between you held a comfort that transcended words. Joel shifted, creating a makeshift pillow with his arm, and you found a natural spot on his chest. The rise and fall of his breath became a soothing rhythm, lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn't felt in a long time without pills.

Joel looks down at your sleeping figure on his chest, with your hand grasping the gem of his shirt. He was starved by your touch, wanting nothing but to trace patterns on your face as he used to. Your soft expression lines told the story of how the past and present went from here. That there’s no one he could call home, and you could never leave home completely, and how easy it would be to be young again.

And he looked at the ring on your finger, a reminder that you weren’t his anymore, and how easy it was for someone to feel hungry by something that was forbidden. Yet he thought about the ring he still had with him, still waiting to find its way to your finger.

You were the kind of love he couldn't find on someone else's body. Your touch, your lips, and every single inch of your skin were the starvation Joel was deprived of, and now you were his forbidden fruit.

Nevertheless, under the dim light of the TV screen, your face was glowing in a soft golden tone that sent Joel to sleep, but he was holding his dream in his arms for the first time after so long.

When the morning sun gradually painted Sarah’s room with the soft hues of the warm sun, Sarah and Tara descended the stairs, their steps cautious not to disturb the tranquil air that enveloped the living room.

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, their eyes fell upon you and Joel, still intertwined on the couch, lost in peaceful sleep. Tara's eyes sparkled with genuine happiness at the sight of her mother and Joel holding each other like that.

Sarah couldn't help but notice Tara's radiant smile. "Why are you smiling so big?" she whispered to her.

Tara motioned toward you and Joel, the affectionate way in which you two held each other not escaping her keen gaze. "Look at them,” she said, still smiling.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on her lips.

Tara nodded, her smile unwavering. "This is the first time I have seen my mom at peace.”

Tara’s gaze was still fixed on the pair on the couch. "Maybe Joel can bring that peace back to my mom’s."

Sarah chuckled, giving her friend a playful nudge. "Are you saying we should ship your mom and my dad?"

Tara rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. "I'm just saying if they make each other happy, why not?"

Weekend passed by and Tara asked no questions about why did you fell asleep on Joel’s chest, she clearly knew the answer to that question yet she didn't judge you, since she was a little girl, she noticed each sacrifice you had made for her and how you had distributed all the love you had inside your heart to her.

How bad she wanted for you to be brave enough and get divorced from her father.

So, when Monday arrived, the weight of the tension between you and Joel seemed to shift. The echoes of the weekend lingered in the air. This time, you both look happier, acting as friends, laughing together and sharing time as you kept your role of assistant.

So, before lunch and after you finished with the work Joel had left for you while he was out, you decided to go and buy lunch for him and you to share, after all you would arrive to an empty house since Tara would be still at school and Dwight was in a business trip, you didn't want be left alone with your thoughts in an empty house that seemed to become colder as the day passed by.

You buy a bottle of lemonade, and two burgers with French fries, hoping for Joel to still being number one of them. You weren’t used to come to this part of the city, but this time you stopped in order to bring the burgers and fries you wanted to share with Joel.

However, once you paid, the corner of your eye caught a person you didn't expected to see. There was Dwight, who was supposedly in New York until next weekend, buying food here. You turned away for him not to notice you, then you decided to follow him to see find out what was happening.

So, when you followed him, you stopped a little away and saw him happily taking a little girl around four years old in his arms as he kissed her temple with so much love you never saw him share with Tara, and what was next was a woman around the same age as you joining them with a smile on her face and you heart stopped.

She kissed Dwight on his lips, as both of them looked at the little girl smiling happily in the arms of your husband.

A surge of emotions tightened in your chest as you witnessed the scene unfold before your eyes. The knot of anxiety and confusion grew with each passing moment. The woman with Dwight, the affectionate exchange, and the child—all pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit into the life you thought you knew.

As the trio walked away to the car, laughter and joy enveloping them, you were left standing there, alone with the weight of a shattered reality

You felt humiliated.  There were your answers. The four years of odd behavior, the four years of plotting against you, his sudden trips, his careless attitude towards you.

all the way, Dwight had made you and Tara move to Austin just for him to be closer to his other family, the secret one.

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99

@lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick

@sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx

[loveshotzz]

Hi Leighanne 🩷 can I please request on the balcony in early morning,  where neighbors might see,  but no one will likely look. with Colours Steve please? 👀

So fuckin excited to revisit the Foxy Lounge for Halloween!

Hi baby 💗 thank you for your request, I know how much you guys love colors!steve and how much I always avoid him 😂 so here is my gift to you for always being so sweet.

A/N: This blurb comes from my series Colors, you can read this as a stand alone if you want. Steve is in his 40’s and you’re in your 20’s and his daughters (her name is Jenny) best friend from college. For those that read the series, this takes place right after chapter three. enjoy 💗

WC: 1k

Warnings:18+ age gap (Steve is in his 40’s, R is in her 20’s) Best friends dad (affectionally known as colors!steve) semi public smut, dirty talk, cream pie all the time.

Older!bestfriendsdad!steve x fem!reader

You knew what you wanted saying yes to Jenny when she invited you on an impromptu trip to visit her Dad for a long weekend. Just like you knew what you wanted when you found yourself at his bedroom door at 4am despite calling it quits after New Year’s Eve, you just didn’t know he would give it to you.

The dark violet sky starts to burst with hues of oranges and pinks, the golden sun breaking through the last bit of night that has warm rays shine against already heated skin. The grip you have on the railing of his balcony is just as hard as Steve’s grip on your hips. Sleep shorts forgotten down by your ankles along with your oversized shirt. His gray sweatpants are pushed halfway down his hairy thighs, while the pads of his fingers dig into your soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises you’ll have to lie to Jenny about later.

The blunt ends of his nails dig crescent moons with each desperate roll of his hips, the sound of your slick growing loud enough to have you scared of waking her up with her bedroom window not that far from his on the second floor. The silver chain he wears runs cool up the dip of your back when he leans forward, pushing himself even deeper, trailing open mouth kisses wherever he can reach, your eyes rolling back when he hits the spot that makes you flutter around him.

“God, this pussy.” He groans, teeth nipping at your spine, the auburn and salt scruff that covers his jaw rubbing rough against you. “Always so tight honey, fuck - perfect.”

His words come out around huffed breaths, muttering against your sweat slick skin while his thrusts get slower - deeper, relishing in the feel of your silk wrapped around him like a vice grip, like you were close. He’d already pulled two out of you, one in his bed when his fingers curled just the right way to make you see white and another one with his face buried between your thighs when you came outside for a smoke break.

You were supposed to go back to your room before Jenny woke up.

He pulls himself all the way out, smirking when you whine a little, your own hips pushing back to try and chase him. His cock twitches in his hand when he sees the mess he’s made of you, how your walls seem to seem to beg for him with his fat tip pressed against your entrance.

“Yeah?” He chuckles darkly, watching how you drip more for him.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, one rock of his hips burying himself all the way to the hilt of you again, the stretch burns making your jaw go slack. Big hands swallow yours around the railing, fingers intertwining as he folds himself over so the dark curls on his chest are pressed wet with sweat against your back. His thrusts become more controlled like this, shorter, more precise. The sweetness of your arousal still lingers hot on his breath that huffs against your neck, you feel surrounded by him like this.

“Couldn’t stay away could you? Those college boys don’t feel like this do they, baby? She missed me huh?”

Words get lost on your tongue when the tip of him reaches the place inside of you only he can find over and over again. All you can manage is a shake of your head, eyes screwing shut and knuckles flexing against his palms when you grip the metal bar harder. His hips stutter when he feels your cunt do the same.

“Steve - please.” You sound wrecked when you plead with him, while the tension building deep in your gut starts to come to a head, the beginnings of your third orgasm making itself known.

“Shit - I know, I know.” He hisses releasing one of your hands so the pads of his fingers can find your clit, the sun getting higher up in the sky is a reminder of the time, “gonna take care of her all weekend, fuckin’ dream about you and this pussy all the time. Missed it so much.”

His words and the circles eight’s his index and middle finger rub against your bundles of nerves rips a moan that borders the edge of too loud from your chest, making you both freeze for a second. The heavy length of him twitches deep inside of you and it has you grind your hips despite the consequences. His head drops, eyebrows marrying in the middle when you squeeze around him with purpose, a loose strand of hair falling against his forehead when he nods, meeting your movements with fingers that become determined.

“Need you to fall apart for me, we don’t have much time.” He whispers, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “let me get another one, come on pretty girl.”

His hips circle, hitting angles he wasn’t before overwhelming you, becoming too much. He thrusts hard enough to have you on your tippy toes, getting you to do exactly what he wants. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down to try and stay quiet and you’re scared it’s going to draw blood, walls spasming around him so much that the intensity of your orgasm rings in your ears.

You squeeze his length like you’re trying to push him out, but it only makes him bury his cock deeper fighting against the velvet of your walls. It doesn’t take much to have him follow your lead, hot ropes spilling out of him warming your insides when he comes. The grip he still has on your hand turns his knuckles white as he dips his head into the crook of your neck, letting his moans come out muffled against your soft skin.

The stubble on his jaw threatens to rub you raw while his jaw tightens trying to calm himself down, while you flutter relentlessly around him in your aftershocks. He holds you to him, both of your chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. The birds chirping outside are loud enough to tell you it’s fully morning now, and you hear the sounds of Jenny’s bedroom door open and shut. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest until you hear her shuffle to the bathroom leaving you just enough time to sneak out.

“Come to my room earlier tonight, honey.” Steve finally whispers, smirking against your neck.

[booksandabeer]

Stucky, Fandom Longevity, and "Primacy Bias"

There’s this post that's been floating around the past few days about how the Stucky fandom in its heyday produced fic and art masterpieces like they were all collectively possessed by an unprecedented spirit of creative insanity. It’s a good, fun post and I agree with the person who wrote it. (not rb'ing because I didn't want to hijack their post with something that's only tangentially related).

It was indeed a magical time and the creative output in both quantity and quality in the two-year period following the release of CA:TWS is—with perhaps a few exceptions—unmatched by anything that I’ve seen before and since. However, going through the notes on that post, I noticed something that left me a little irritated and quite frankly sad since it is in congruence with, and to a certain extent the confirmation of something that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.

For one thing, there are so many people in the notes expressing sentiments along the lines of “it was such a wonderful time; I wish I could go back; I miss these fics; I want to read these fics again,” etc., etc., you get it. And it feels a little silly pointing this out, but…you can just do that? Almost all of these fics are still right there, waiting for you to be (re)read. Yes, a lot of people left the fandom after The Great Devastation of 2019, but their stories didn’t just disappear. It's not like there is now a big, black hole where the Steve/Bucky tag used to be on AO3. So, if you miss these fics and you want to revisit them—just do it. Chances are the authors will be delighted that people are still finding and enjoying their stories all these years later. And—since apparently this needs saying, too, judging from the notes on that post: A lot of people seem to be very concerned with losing ‘coolness points’ for openly admitting that they still miss the ship and often feel tempted to dip their toes back into the Stucky pool. I don’t know how to tell you this, but if someone tries to shame you for simply enjoying or missing something, they are an asshole. Not to mention that all this is happening on tumble.com—'coolness' doesn't exactly live here. And that is a good thing, to be clear. Fandom is not about being cool. It’s about being as enthusiastic, as silly, as absolutely fucking unhinged about the things you love as you want to be. So, stop caring what other people think and enjoy yourself.

The other thing is that there seems to be a pretty widespread misconception that the Stucky fandom hasn’t produced any good fanworks after 2016.

First, that is patently and demonstrably untrue. There is so much incredibly good fanfiction and fanart still out there. Not as much as back in the day, sure, but it still exists. And more is being posted every day! Even some of the OG Big Names are still around. One of the most beloved Stucky series that started all the way back in 2014 was updated as recently as December of last year. The artist, who I believe the op is referring to as creating ‘baroque’ paintings, posted their latest Stucky art not even two months ago.

Second, I find this “primacy bias” more than just a little insulting to the many hardworking and incredibly talented people who are still putting their blood, sweat, and tears into creating for this community. And it’s one thing if people who have long left the fandom believe or say something like this, but it’s frankly irritating when I see people who are still very much active—and therefore definitely should know better—feed into that same false myth. Yes, it sucks that the Stucky ship isn’t as big as it used to be, but that doesn't mean there isn't any 'fresh talent' to be found anymore. I’m also not saying we shouldn’t still celebrate and recommend older works—I do it all the time! And it sure as hell doesn't mean everyone has to reblog absolutely everything all the time, either. Your blog, your rules.

But maybe we should put a little more focus on the good things, on the creators and the community we have now, especially if we want that community to still exist in another ten years. I mean, imagine you’re a person who’s just gotten into the fandom (because yes, there are indeed still new people discovering Stucky all the time) and one of the first things you’re being told is “eh, nice that you're here, but you’re about 7 years late; the big party is already over.” Does that seem like a fun space to hang out in to you?

So. Let’s all—and I do not exclude myself from this because God knows, I love to complain—spend a little less time mourning the ‘good old days’ that are never coming back anyway, and instead focus our attention on enjoying and appreciating both the incredible treasure chest of an archive we have AND the wealth of high-quality art and fic that is still being created by this wonderful community every single day. With this in mind:

🥳🎊Happy Stucky Week 2023!!! 🎊🥳

*I want to make it very clear that this is a general thing that’s been on my mind lately and that I’m trying to work through here—probably not very coherently. I'm not trying to tell anybody 'how to do fandom' and I’m most definitely not vagueposting about any particular incident, person, or group in this fandom. This isn’t a callout post. It’s an I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this and I don’t know what else do with them post.

[wildemaven]

saturdays with javier : tied together | javier peña

-> pairing: javier peña x f!reader

-> word count: 3489

-> content warning: 18+ blog; talk of food, feelings of nervousness, alluding to spicy time but I decided to give them some privacy, she likes the tie so it stays, established relationship, reader has zero descriptive features, post Colombia life, if I missed anything please let me know and I’ll add it

-> notes: it has taken me so long to finish this, but I’m glad it’s done! I’ve been in such a writing slump and words haven’t been working well for me. I think my lack of sleep is my main reason so I’ve been working on that— it definitely helped me yesterday. Big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for being a cheerleader and beta reading this for me!!

series masterlist / main masterlist

“Shit!”

His focus is scattered as he watches his hands work together to secure the tie around his neck, a task he hadn’t done in what felt like years, his nerves not aiding in the dexterous process. 

“Cariño, what time do your parents get in again?” He shouts down the hall to you where you’re busy about the kitchen, before refocusing on his reflection in the mirror. 

“Their flight lands at 1 pm, and you’re picking them up at Gate 15— Javier, what’s with the tie??” You appear in the doorway, leaning into the frame, your arms crossed watching the nervousness permeate off Javier as he finally settles a knot at the base of his sculpted neck. 

“What’s wrong with my tie?” Brows knitted together in question, looking at you then back to his reflection. 

“Nothing, it looks good— it’s fine. I just haven’t seen you wear one in, well awhile.” You push off the door frame, maneuvering between Javier and the bathroom counter, your fingers toy with the ends of his tie as you try your best to ease his mind. “It’s just my parents, no need to worry too much. And they love you, with or without a tie.”

“I know, I just—“ He takes in a deep breath, his lungs filling with the calmness you always bring to him, resting his forehead against yours, his hands running the length of your arms. “You’re right. I just get in my head, always thinkin’ they’re gonna find something and decide I’m not enough for you.” 

“You’re always enough, Javi— with or without their approval.” Your voice is tentative and soft, dripping in assurance. 

His hands find their way under the hem of your skirt, pressing his body ardently into yours. Fingers dancing delicately up your thighs, settling at the curve of your hips. There’s deliberate restraint in his grip on you, wanting nothing more than to haul you onto the counter and slowly pull you apart. 

“Javi—“ Breathless and floating. Pulling back just enough to witness the growing want igniting in his eyes. Your hands smooth over the wrinkles in his crisp shirt, securing the knot of his tie firmly at the base of his neck. “Hmm. You should probably get going. You don’t want to keep my parents waiting. But we can always revisit this later.” 

“Tell me again why you’re not coming with me to pick them up.” His lips desperately chase after yours. 

Javi is your weakness. Giving in to him is an effortless choice. Minutes tick by, floating around the two of you. The kiss meanders through a vast range of intensity. Fluid and velvety, as it edges the border of a sensual climb that you both constantly crave. Realization hitting you first has you halting the flow before things progress past the point of no return. 

Javi catches on to your stunted movement. His efforts to subconsciously sway you into calling off your parents so he can stay lost in this moment with you were valiant. He removes his hands from under your skirt, allowing the flowy fabric to fall back into place. Taking a step back, boots clicking on the tiled bathroom floor, his hands resting at his waist, while his labored breathing slowly returns to a comfortable steady rhythm. 

“Because— I can’t be in two places at once. I need to get dinner prepped and started, so it’s ready when you get back here with them.” You fix the few of his stray hairs that have fallen out of place. Your fingers tracing down the sides of his handsome face, soothing over the tightness of his clenching jaw. 

“We could just order something, then you can just ride with me. Your parents love that little Italian place over on San Dario.” He suggests. Reaching for one of your wrists, your hands are still cradling his face, thumb smoothing over your pulse point as he turns and places a kiss to your palm. 

The bathroom fills with your boisterous laugh, your body vibrating as your head falls against his chest. 

“What? What’s so funny?” You settle yourself back against the counter, pausing your laughter to wipe the tears from your lashes with the backs of your hands. 

“The little Italian place? You mean Olive Garden? Javi, you’re going to be fine, I promise. Listen to some music, enjoy the drive and you’ll be home before you know it.” You grab his arm, twisting his watch face in your direction. “Okay, no more stalling Peña. It’s a two hour drive there, plus the wait— you need to get on the road.”

He releases a heavy sigh into the small space. Palm scrubbing down his face, mentally preparing himself for the long drive and your parents. He watches as you head for the kitchen, stopping at the door and resting your head and hand on the wooden frame as you look back at him. 

“You’re enough Javi, always will be.”

*

The drive is easy enough. 165 miles straight up Interstate 35 will drop him into the heart of San Antonio, according to the directions you wrote out for him on the back of the electric bill envelope. A drive he’s taken many times over his life and has no trouble recalling the exact route as your car travels across the Texas countryside. But he likes— loves —that you care enough to make sure he has every exit and turn written in your pristine all-caps writing, keeping them visible and ready just in case there’s a chance he needs them. 

An FM classic rock station and bag of peppered sunflower seeds keep him company most of the 2 and a half hour drive. Yet, even with a string of 80’s ballads crooning through the speakers, Javier still finds little pockets of time to get lost in his thoughts. 

Blips of his time in Colombia trickle in from the depths of his mind. A wavering feeling of relief that all of it is behind him meshes with the doubt of whether he did enough or not enough, at the same time. 

His grip on the steering wheel tightens. Anger and frustration resurfacing. A nagging turmoil bleeds through him slowly. His teeth gnaw anxiously at his bottom lip. He’s eyed several gas stations in the last 2 miles that he knows are fully stocked with enough nicotine to burn out every bit of anxiousness nagging at him. 

Somehow, while you’re busy making dinner hundreds of miles away, you manage to save him from spiraling. 

He thinks of you often, how can he not, but especially in moments when his thoughts start to get heavy and dark. Your smile pops into his head and instantly soothes away any oppressive feelings. 

The overwhelming airport traffic takes over his train of thought. Maneuvering your little blue Volvo in and around parked cars, taxis and shuttles is an easy task. He glances down to the envelope, checking he’s in the right lane. The gate numbers boldly displayed above the terminal doors as he drives in the direction of the one you have written down, Gate 15. 

He’s grateful there’s an open space to park along the curb when he arrives. Glancing at his watch, it’s a little after the 1 pm arrival time, which means your parents should be headed to pick up their bags and on the lookout for Javier to pick them up. 

Javier contemplates whether he should wait by the car or snake his way through the crowd of airport goers to greet your parents, grabbing any bags or luggage to help them to the car. 

It’s a quick decision, your father’s stone expression the main deciding factor. Another once over of the gate and time to double check he’s in the right spot, then he’s locking the car and venturing in the direction of where your parents will be arriving from. 

He runs through a series of greetings as he waits. 

Hello, it's good to see you both. Feels too informal for in-laws.

Oh, I’ve missed you both so much, here let me take your bags. Way too enthusiastic, especially for him. 

Hello Sir, I love your daughter very much. I plan to spend the rest of my days loving her and showing her how much she means to me. Over the top? Your dad already gave him the approval before he married you— maybe just in case. 

Hug? Handshake? A wave of Hello?

He takes a deep breath. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He’s overthinking it. He knows your dad likes him. Your dad’s never been crass or rude towards him ever. The complete opposite actually. He’s treated Javier like family since the day you introduced them. Welcoming him into their home with a hand shake, then pulling into a warm hug. Pushing away the doubt and the fear of not being enough in your fathers eyes. 

Your words washing over him— You’re enough Javi, always will be —he believes you. 

“Well, well. If it isn’t Javier Peña, in the flesh!” 

An all too familiar voice catches him off guard, pulling him from his thoughts of your parents and greeting scenarios. 

“Steve?” Steve Murphy. Standing in front of him, shouldering a worn leather duffle bag and a carryon at his feet. He looks like a day hasn’t passed since they had last seen each other years ago. The wedding?

“Thought we did away with the ties and suits, buddy. Ya heading to some kind of meetin’?” Steve, dressed in a polo shirt and blue jeans, flicks at the navy tie you had bought him a few years back. 

“No, I’m picking up my in-laws. They should be here any minute.” He nods in the direction of the baggage claim, then looking down as his hands smooth down the tie in a presentable position. 

“Is that the story she went with?” Steve says with a hearty laugh, readjusting his bag strap. 

“What do you mean? What story?” There’s a flash of confusion in Javier’s eyes. Head tilting and forehead creased as he tries to make sense of what Steve has said. 

“You aren’t pickin’ up your in-laws. You’re pickin’ up me— Surprise!” Steve seems thrilled at how stunned Javier must look at the realization of what is happening. “I’ve got some business to do here in Texas for a bit. Connie mentioned it when they were havin’ their weekly phone call. I had a few free days, so she planned for you to pick me up so we can catch up.” 

“She didn’t say anything about you coming.” Javier thinks back over the last few weeks, trying to remember if you had and he just forgot. 

“No shit. That’s the whole point of a surprise, Javi. Good to see ya partner.” He throws an arm around Javier’s shoulders, giving his back a few good pats. Steve steps back a bit, his hand resting on Javier’s shoulder. “We gonna just stand here and catch up or can we go get somethin’ to eat. The plane food sucks and I’m fuckin’ starvin’.” 

Steve pulls the handle up on his wheeled carryon and begins walking towards the exit. Javier turns on his heels, a bit of relief settling in. Smiling at how you were able to not only pull this off, but had him convinced your parents were coming and let him worry about it for weeks. 

“Yeah, the cars parked right outside.” He calls out to Steve, shuffling through the bodies that put a little distance between the two of them. 

Javier finds Steve leaning against the trunk of your car, having recognized it was yours from the few times he and Connie havevisited over the years.

“How’s Connie and Olivia? We got the pictures— she’s gotten big since we last saw her.” Javier asks as he pops the truck, grabbing Steve’s bags off the sidewalk, moving things around so they’re secure among the other things you store back there.

“They’re good. Connie wants to plan for us all to come out for a visit sometime. Maybe after the holidays or somethin’, when work slows down. Maybe we can go duck hunting? Like old times.” He says watching Javier over his shoulder play Tetris with his bags and the trunk contents.

“I’m not going fuckin’ duck hunting, you goddamn Hillbilly.” Shutting the trunk and making his way to the driver's seat. Steve, amused with himself follows, suit on the other side of the car. 

It takes a few minutes to weave the car through the growing traffic and out of the airport madness. 

“You gonna wine and dine me all dressed up like that, Peña?” Steve asks comfortably from the passenger seat. 

“Yeah, there’s a little Italian place on the way.” Javier chuckles, looking over to Steve who’s wearing a shit-eating grin. He shakes his head, not realizing how much he missed his old friend. 

“Oh! Authentic?” Excitement sparks in Steve’s voice. 

“No— Olive Garden.” 

“Asshole.”

*

It’s a few hours later when Javier drops Steve off at his hotel across town. Plans to meet up in the morning for breakfast at the little cafe with the best coffee in town. Javier promises to not show up before 9 am, so Steve can sleep in a few extra hours to shake off the jet lag. Javier pockets his sarcastic comment about how old Steve is getting until tomorrow when they’re deep into their breakfast burritos and a few cups of coffees in. 

Things look quiet in the house when he parks your car in the driveway. The night sky now prominent and bold, a stark contrast from the harsh sun when he left earlier in the day. The soft glow coming from the bedroom windows must mean you’ve already begun to settle in for the evening, waiting for Javier’s return home. 

Javier immediately rids himself of his stuffy suit jack the moment he’s inside, laying it over the back of the couch, a problem for tomorrow morning while he’s killing time waiting to meet up with Steve. He runs through his usual evening routine as he makes his way into the house. Front doors locked, window curtains closed and keys hung on the little hook by the door. The kitchen is clean and quiet, no sign of any cooking you had been talking about anywhere in sight. He fingers through the stack of mail that must have come while he was out, mostly bills he can deal with at a later time in the week. 

The soft brilliance radiating from your bedroom pours out into the hallway, guiding the way for Javier. A beacon of light after a long day of driving. You are his final resting place. 

Hands settled into his pockets, he shoulders himself quietly against the door frame. Movements still as he watches you, not wanting to announce his arrival right away. You’re bathed in the glow of the table lamp, propped up by the pillows and wrapped in your favorite robe, bare legs crossed over the plush comforter. It looks like you have made a decent dent in the book you had mentioned wanting to read when you found a chance— he can’t wait to hear you tell him your thoughts on it when you finish it. 

“How’d it go, Javi.” You’ve already sensed his presence without a glance in his direction. Turning the page, a devilish smirk slides over your face. 

“Funny thing about that, Amor. I got to the airport and I ran into an old friend. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” He asks as he makes his way to the dresser, discarding his watch and wallet into the small tray, where they are kept for the night. 

“Hmmm. Would this old friend resemble someone who is actually a dear friend and answers to Steve?” You fold the corner of the current page you’re on. Closing the book and placing it on your nightstand. You watch Javier loosen the knot of his tie with two fingers, freeing the top button that you know irritates him fiercely. “Were you surprised?”

“Very. A little relieved, too.” You shift your legs over allowing him room to sit. His hand wraps around your ankle before you can move them too far out of his reach. His palm is warm against your cool skin. 

“Good. It was hard to keep it a secret. I made Connie and Steve promise me they wouldn’t tip you off. And your dad knows you’ll be busy the next few days while Steve is here, I told him about it when he came over for dinner earlier.” 

“It was a great surprise. But you didn’t need to keep it a secret. I’m sure Steve would have loved to have you come along, too.” His hand glides softly up and down the length of your leg, finally settling where your robe stops mid-thigh. 

“Well, you work too hard, Javi. I think the last time you took an actual vacation was our honeymoon and that was years ago. I think some time alone with your friend was needed, even if it took me doing a little scheming behind the scenes to make it happen.” 

He knows you’re right. It has been a while since he had let himself take some time for himself. He likes staying busy. The weekends are reserved mostly for time with you. Weekdays he’s pushing through the tiredness and running on coffee while he helps his Pop as he transitions into taking over operations of the ranch and cattle— Chucho no longer able to do it himself as he gets older. 

Maybe he should take more time off like this. Even in the short time from when he picked Steve up at the airport to dropping him off at the hotel, he enjoyed himself more than he thought he would. 

“I can hear you debating with yourself on this. You deserve it, Javier. It’s just a few days, let yourself enjoy them completely. The ranch will be waiting for you when you’re done.” You tell him, all sincere and honest. You shift yourself forward next to where Javier is sitting. Your legs folded under you, arms wrapped around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Okay. I’ll enjoy it.” He releases a heavy sigh into the air.

“I have another surprise for you…” Your lips curl inward, trying to hold back your bubbling laugh as you watch Javier’s eyes roll playfully. 

“Querida, I don’t think I can handle any more surprises today.” He groans, pulling you over to him so you're now straddling his lap. His forehead rests on your collarbone, your fingernails running lightly over his scalp. 

“My parents are coming at the end of the month. They’re staying for a week. My dad said he wants to take you golfing— something about showing you how good his swing is.” You murmur against the top of his head. 

“Baby, I don’t know how to golf. I’m going to have to bullshit my way through it, and I don’t know how convincing it will look.” He pouted. He moans at the sensation of your nails scratching at his scalp a little harder.

“Javi, I’m just kidding.” 

“Thank god.” Relieved he doesn’t have to bullshit his way through 18 holes and several hours stuck on a golf course. 

“Only about the golfing part— they’re still visiting.” 

“That’s enough out of you, Amor.” Grabbing your hips, he’s flipping you both so you're lying beneath him on your bed. Your legs wrap around his narrow waist, drawing him down closer to you, his lips finding yours instantly. 

“Let me get these clothes off real quick.” He stands to his full height, beginning to work at the knot of his tie. 

“Leave the tie.” You purr as your foot rises up to his chest and presses against his hands, halting his movements. You pull at the belt of your robe, revealing your naked self to him, barely catching the way his breath hitches at the sight of you bared to him. “I get casual Javi every night, seeing you in this tie today was a fun change. I think I want Agent Peña tonight though.”

He’s on you in an instant. Hands roaming over your body, soft and riddled with goosebumps. Hips settling firmly against yours, an experimental thrust has you gasping and tingling with anticipation. The lightest nips to your jaw. His breath is hot across your face as he finds your lips again. Deepening the kiss in a desperate manner. Your whimpers and the way you chant his name like your favorite song nearly takes him out. His grip on your thigh is delicate but demanding in the most intimate way. Your back arching into his touch, craving more. You always crave more.

“Baby, I’ll give you whatever you want.” He whispers into the kiss. And he will give you everything. 

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 13

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

Johanna thinks men are stupid and she doesn’t respect them (pls tell me someone gets this reference)

Content Warnings - your fave is an idiot (for now)

District 13 is lonely. They still won’t let you have any visitors and haven’t quite determined if you are safe yet. Their constant dismissal of your words reminds you of why you went mute all those years ago.

“Please,” you beg one of the doctors. “What do I have to do to prove I’m not a danger? You released Annie a week ago.”

“Miss Y/L/N I am not approved to clear you. That decision is made elsewhere,” the doctor responds.

“Then let me speak to whoever’s in charge!” you demand. “There has to be some way for me to show you all that I’m harmless.”

Ten minutes later you are sitting in front of a lady named President Coin. Your hands and feet are still cuffed but they gave you a jumpsuit to wear instead of your hospital gown. They wheeled you over here in a wheelchair despite your constant reminders that you could walk just fine.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Coin states. “What can I do for you?”

“I want to be released from the hospital,” you firmly state. “I’m of no danger to anyone here.”

“I’m afraid we cannot do that,” Coin replies.

“Why?” you ask.

“It was risky enough to bring you to thirteen,” Coin explains. “We can’t have someone as rogue as you wandering amongst the general population. It’s too dangerous.”

“How many times do I have to explain to you that I’m no longer a danger to anyone?” you practically shout. “They didn’t hurt me in the capital. They gave me some treatment that made me better. I’m not feral anymore.”

“And how am I supposed to believe that?” Coin asks.

“I didn’t talk to anyone for five years besides Finnick,” you snort. “You think I’d be talking to you if I wasn’t healed?”

“That is a fair point,” she sighed. “Maybe we could come to a compromise. I won’t permit your release yet but I will allow you to have pre-approved visitors on the condition that a soldier can monitor the visits and administer sedative if necessary. We can revisit this arrangement in two weeks and adjust based on results.”

“Fine,” you huff. “I just want to see Finnick.”

An hour later, Finnick comes to visit. You reach out to pull him onto the bed with you but he sticks to the edge of the room, sitting down in a chair in the opposite corner.

“Finn,” you whine. “Come here.”

“They told me I need to stay five feet away,” he states. “for my own safety.”

“Well that sounds a lot like a rule you ignored for the past five years,” you shrug. He just shakes his head in response.

“I can’t,” he states. “Not until I know you aren’t going to hurt me.”

You look at him dumbfounded. He thinks you would hurt him?

“You really think I’m going to hurt you?” you ask him.

“I,” he stutters. “I don’t know.”

“They fixed me,” you explain. “I can talk to everyone now. No more violent outbursts or breakdowns.”

He just shakes his head and puts his hands on his temples.

“If you’re just going to treat me like a feral animal, then leave,” you state, causing him to look up at you. What hurts the most is the fact that he actually does get up and leave.

He doesn’t trust you.

Three days later, Johanna comes to see you. Finnick hasn’t come back since you told him to leave so you’ve been all alone in your room.

“Hey Fiesty,” she mutters as she sits down on your bed. “What are you up to nowadays?”

“Nothing much,” you shrug. “I just got moved from one prison to another.” This answer gets a small laugh out of Johanna.

“Glad to see you’re talking again,” she states. “When are they letting you out?”

“They aren’t,” you respond.

“Oh come on,” she groans. “You’re harmless. Don’t tell me Finnick hasn’t tried convincing Coin to release you.”

“He hasn’t,” you reply, shaking your head. “He doesn’t trust me. He thinks I’m going to hurt him like how Peeta hurt Katniss.”

“Ugh. Men are so stupid,” Johanna groans. “I’ll talk some sense into him when he visits me this afternoon.”

“He visits you?” you ask. “Why doesn’t he visit me?”

“Because he’s stupid,” Johanna snorts. “Don’t worry. I’ll go fix your relationship.”

“It’s not a relationship!” you exclaim as she leaves your room.

“Shut up Fiesty!” she yells as she finally exits.

“Hey idiot,” Johanna states as Finnick enters her room. He looks like he didn’t sleep again.

“What did I do this time?” he groans.

“You’ve been avoiding Fiesty,” she replies. “She’s locked up in a room all by herself and I’m the only one who has visited her in days.”

“I can’t see her,” he responds, fiddling with the rope in his hands. “It isn’t safe.”

“Stop being an idiot,” Johanna states, causing Finnick to look up at her. “I don’t know exactly what her treatment entailed but it definitely wasn’t the same as mine or Peeta’s. She never screamed. She didn’t have a single cut or bruise on her body when they rescued her. They even polished the bite mark off her wrist. If they had done anything to her, I think someone would have noticed by now.”

“You said before that her room was near Peeta’s,” Finnick comments. “Did he see or hear anything?”

“Well I’m not allowed to see him so I haven’t been able to ask,” Johanna shrugs. “One of the soldiers, the one who is supposedly Katniss’ cousin, told me that Fiesty made a comment about Peeta being dangerous when she was brought in but he didn’t think much about it till he attacked Katniss. If she was also dangerous, I don’t think she would have tried to warn anyone.”

“I don’t know…” Finnick sighs.

“Look,” Johanna states firmly. “We will go visit her together, first thing tomorrow, and I will show you that she’s not dangerous.“

“Fine,” Finnick relents.

Taglist:

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*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

[flanaganfilm]

I tend to get obsessed with scenes where actors have a particularly outstanding performance. I find myself revisiting them over and over again just to relive the moment. Several examples of this, but one that I just love is in Midnight Mass when Kate and Zach are on the rowboat. What's it like experiencing that live, during production? Are you aware in the moment of how special it is or does that become more evident in post? Love to hear any and all details behind the scenes of how those get made. Also curious what scenes from your favorite movies/TV standout as particularly compelling performances by the actors.

This scene is a strange one, because it was the first thing we shot of the whole series. We had been shut down since March 2020 when the initial COVID lockdown hit, and were the first show in North America to go back into production that summer. We didn't know how to do that, and were juggling constantly evolving safety protocols as we tried to figure out how to shoot in this new world. Because a lot of our sets weren't ready to shoot when we came back, we opted to start easy - on our stages, with blue screen work. The boat scene is shot entirely on blue screen, we didn't even have water - the boat was gently rocked back and forth by grips. Kate and Zach were asked to do this huge, heavy, insanely difficult and emotional scene ON OUR FIRST DAY. I had asked them a few weeks prior if they'd be okay with that, as I was worried - they hadn't built their characters yet. They hadn't put a single scene down to draw from. But both said they'd do it, and so we threw them into the deep end.

(That's DP Michael Fimognari in the boat, trying to adjust lighting through his goggles) It was a VERY weird day. We were all wearing KN95 masks and goggles, the actors had to wear full masks and face shields when we weren't rolling. It was absolutely surreal and just about impossible for anyone to get into any headspace that felt like we were doing scene work. I had been fitted with modified motorcycle goggles, as I needed eye protection to be near the actors (it was all more than a bit ridiculous.) There was a ladder on set - you can see it behind Michael in the picture above - and I started the day by climbing it to address the cast and crew. About ten words into my speech, my goggles completely fogged up and I couldn't see anymore. I had to be helped down the ladder by several grips. I remember the first rehearsal was insane because the actors weren't allowed to take off their masks, per Netflix safety protocols. I was also required to wear my mask and goggles throughout, so giving direction to actors who couldn't see my face was a brand new and deeply strange thing (I'd continue to work this way for the next two years, we all got used to it, but this first day was fucking WEIRD). Kate and Zach couldn't even really hear each other through the masks to rehearse, as it was such a quiet and intimate scene. I was standing a few feet away and couldn't hear a damn thing. It was additionally weird because all of the elements of the scene outside of the boat wouldn't be added for many, many months as we got into VFX. There was no water, no stars, nothing at all to look at but hanging blue curtains and masked crew members. I don't know how Kate and Zach were able to put all of that aside and deliver the performances they delivered - oh wait, I suppose I do know. It's because they are exceptional actors. Kate later told me she was so outside of her comfort zone that she had to just dive in and trust every single thing around her. The scenes in the boat ultimately came together beautifully, but I did apologize to both of them later in the shoot. It wasn't fair that we asked them to do that, to start like that, without letting them build any foundation. But both waved it off. Production is chaos, and that particular production was the very first out the gate with COVID, so everything was crazy. They took all of that vulnerability and uncertainty and discomfort and fear and turned it into a handful of scenes that roar with honesty. It's among my favorite moments in what may always be my favorite Intrepid series.

[deathbecomesthem]

Crawling to the Finish | Part 1 of 4 | 2.6K

I am queuing up all 4 parts of this story, and they will all be released throughout the week on the dates that are indicated on the Materlist. This story is already completed, and I do not intend to revisit it for editing. My emotional labor on this one has already been done.

Warnings: There will be lots of descriptions of medical stuff. The reader is physically disabled due to an undefined accident. Major bone trauma. Lots of talk about pain. Later parts are going to have smut, because disabled people have sex like everyone else.

Summary: You have to go back to school while still recovering from surgery. Principal Higgins is determined to make you as comfortable as possible, so he assigns someone to help you get around.

A/N: The physical disability described in this series are my own. The experiences are very close to what my own. Be kind.

This one goes out to CJ - you helped me carry my books my junior and senior years of high school because you got to leave class early. You were a real one.

 **

The crutches rubbed the skin of your armpits raw. You’d tried everything. Your mom has sewn pieces of flannel over the arm rests to try to make it more comfortable. It didn’t matter. The only solution was to give it time, let your skin grow tougher. These crutches would be your best friends for the foreseeable future.

The immediate concern after your initial recovery was getting you back to “normal” life. That meant school. The thought of trying to wade through the crowds at Hawkins High while balancing on your crutches was enough to send you into a fury. It was so unfair. Your parents and the administration were determined to make it work.

You would be allowed to leave your classes 5 minutes early, working your way through empty hallways. You could carry your backpack to your classes, despite the rule about keeping them in lockers. You can’t imagine trying to rest your tender hip on the cold desks that could be found in every classroom, but Principal Higgins has a solution for that. One that you’ve promised yourself you’ll never use.

“I’m not sitting on a donut.” Your mom has tried to show you how much more comfortable you would be sitting on a donut designed for hemorrhoid pain. “I’d rather die. I’ll deal with the pain.”

Dealing with the pain was something you always did. You learned early on that complaining about it wouldn’t make it lessen, it just made the people around you make sympathetic noises that set you on edge.

Being on edge is your new normal. Everything set you off. You took everything personally. If someone was overly nice to you, you took it as an insult. Everyone wanted to help, but you wanted to do it yourself. You were so tired of people using you to make themselves feel better. “Oh, I helped that poor cripple girl today when she was struggling with the door. Aren’t I special?”

So, you taught yourself how to do everything – with adjustments. Because you didn’t want to miss out on more than you had to. You gained stamina. You once crutched 3 miles with a group of friends to watch a fireworks display. It almost killed you, and you couldn’t lift your arms the following day, but you did it. And you watched those fireworks with your head rested in your boyfriend’s lap. He never asked if you were ok. He never suggested that maybe he should have stayed back with you and watched them from the back of his truck. So, you did it, and you hid the pain.

It only reinforced the idea that you had to be better at pretending to be fine when that same boyfriend cheated on you while you were in the hospital recovering from surgery last year. You had insisted he not miss junior prom because of you, insisted he take your friend. Megan was one of your best friends, and she was more than happy to do it. You didn’t know that they’d been secretly fucking for months.

Your brain knew that he was a dick, and that what he did was fucking awful. You also knew that you were a burden to everyone around you. Of course he wanted out, but how do you break up with a cripple without being an asshole? The answer was that you didn’t. But that was last year, and this year you didn’t have to worry about boys and friends. You just had to worry about making it to graduation. Fuck the rest of it. You would crawl onto that stage if you had to.

**

The first morning back to school after the most recent surgery came halfway through your senior year, 3 weeks after having your sixth major hip repair surgery. The previous five were failures. This is a last-ditch effort with a new surgeon. As soon as you turned 18, you left the pediatric orthopedic surgeon you’d been seeing for the last 5 years – he was one of the best in the country – to see someone new. Someone that wouldn’t attach the expectations of pediatric care with your treatment plan anymore. You need a life, and you’ve already lost so much time.

When you saw the new doctor, he looked at your images and said, “this is a mess.” One 6-inch rod attached to your thigh bone and at least 8 pins holding the failed hip fusion in place. His treatment plan was, “let’s take it all out and see what happens.” He promised if you gave it a full 6 weeks to see what happens, he’d do a full replacement. He’d give you your life back.

 So, you let him have his little experiment with you. You let your parents hope for some miracle, let them ask their church friends to pray for you. You give your doctor the agreed upon 6 weeks to ”see what happens”, and then he’ll take that diseased bone out of your body and replace it with metal, plastic, and ceramic.

Today is the day you crutch your ass back into high school and try to have a normal day. Completing course work at home has been a breeze, but the district is determined to not be labeled as unfriendly to disabled people, so you’re here now. The first three periods are ok, it’s English, Algebra, and a typing class. Painful, but bearable. The fourth class of the day, American History, started with a bang.

Mr. Willis is a short man with a perpetually annoyed expression. He is known for openly mocking his female students. His room smelled of onions, and his short sleeved white button up shirts always sported yellow-green armpit stains. The onion smell was always worse when he moved around the room, his arms lifted high in the air to get a point across.

 The class starts, as all classes do, with a roll call. Perfectly reasonable, nothing out of the ordinary until he reaches your name.

“Y/N – you’re gracing us with your presence today?” His eyes are glaring at you from behind his desk. “That’s a shame.” He stands and walks over to you, his stench trailing behind him, “I need you to go to Vice Principal Brobeck’s office immediately.” He has a disciplinary slip already filled out in his hand.

“What?” You can’t help your tone; it’s confused and annoyed. How could you possibly be in trouble when it’s been weeks since you last sat at this desk.

“Your truancy needs to be addressed by the administration. A string of unexcused absences. Go!” He barks out the last, finger pointing to the door, and you can’t help but scoff at him.

“Uh, fine, I’ll go. Can I ask you, though, are you blind?” You wave your crutches at him while trying to maneuver and get your backpack over your shoulders. “I had surgery.”

He prattles on about your tone and lack of respect to your back as you crutch your way down the long hallway to the administrative offices for the school. You were exhausted already, and adding another trip around the school with your heavy backpack left you feeling angry. You could feel hot tears of frustration burning behind your eyes while you stumble a little at the office door.

The secretary has you take a seat in one of the soft cushion chairs in the entryway, which is a small mercy for your sore hip. Someone is sitting next to you, but you barely register his presence in your current state of distress and pain.

“Uh, what the hell did you do to get sent down to the office?” His voice is playful with you, but you’re not in the mood to engage with anyone.

“My existence in this building is enough, apparently.”

Before he can manage a response, the Vice Principal’s door opens, and he calls your name. The boy in the chair next to you tries to help with your bag, but you just snatch it out of his hands and throw it over your shoulders before crutching into the inner office.

“So, Mr. Willis says you’ve been truant. Do you have an explanation?” You can tell by his glassy eyes that he’s just going through the motions without actually taking in the situation sitting right in front of his face.

“I’m sorry, are you serious right now?” This gets his attention. You can practically see smoke coming out of his ears at your attitude, until he really takes a look at you. The crutches, the obvious pain in your face. “I’ve been out for 3 weeks because I had surgery. I’m back because Principal Higgins insisted the school could accommodate my needs. Call my parents if you want.”

He has your mother on the phone in an instant. You imagine her sitting at the kitchen table just waiting for a call from the school, which is probably exactly what she’s been doing. She’s devoted years to your recovery. As soon as Mr. Brobeck says the word “truant”, you can hear her yelling through the phone line, demanding to speak to Principal Higgins. So it goes.

**

The boy is still sitting in a chair waiting for whatever punishment is coming for him when you exit the office with both principals at your heels. Higgins is falling all over himself apologizing, promising you’ll have no more problems with Mr. Willis when he spots Eddie.

“Munson, you want to get out of detention?” Your eyes are drawn back to the boy, finally taking him in fully. He’s shaggy haired, wearing leather and denim with big rings adorning his hands. A metalhead. In Hawkins.

“Uh, yes sir.” He’s standing wearing an open face, ready to accept any terms that are offered to him. Your assumption is that most of the staff at the school would use any excuse to give him detention or get him expelled.

“Y/N is going to need someone to help her get from class to class,” You start to protest, but Higgins speaks over you, “how do you feel about taking on that responsibility? You’ll have to leave your classes a few minutes early and make sure she can get around the school without a problem.”

“Of course. If that’s ok with her.” He looks to you. You have no choice but to agree, how can you say no with him looking at you like that? His eyes pleading.

So, it was decided. Eddie Munson, the problem child of Hawkins, would escort you between classes. The assumption from Higgins is that you’ll be happier with a little errand boy helping you, but this boy likes to talk.

“So, what’s with the sticks?” He’s sitting with you while you wait for the hallways to clear before heading to your next class. Would it be rude to tell him to leave me alone?

“It’s complicated. I had surgery a few weeks ago. I’ll probably have another one in a few weeks.” It’s all you can offer.

“Woah, that sucks. Are you new? I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you here before.”

“Not new. I’ve lived in Hawkins forever.” You could explain that you’ve been in and out of school for the last few years due to your accident and subsequent surgeries, but you don’t have the strength. It also bores you to think about having that conversation with someone new.

“Really? How have I never seen you before?” He’s trying to be friendly. Don’t be a dick to him.

“I don’t know, maybe you’re just not very perceptive.” It’s a low blow, but he laughs at it, which is promising. “Listen, I’m really drained. Can we just sit here?”

“Yeah, no problem. Sorry.” He looks genuinely apologetic, but something about this interaction is different than what you’re used to. He’s not looking at you like you’re broken. He’s talking to you with interest, not pseudo sympathy.

“It’s ok. Ask me questions another time.” You let your head lean back against the wall and try to block out the noise in the room, and the pain zipping down your leg. This last surgery was a short one, but it left you drained. You feel loose, like your body is coming apart without the metal holding you together. You think it must be in your head, and remind yourself that you only need to get through a few weeks of this. It’s nothing, a few weeks is nothing.

 **

You and Eddie have lunch together at his regular lunch table, which you agreed to because he promised his friends would leave you alone if he told them to. And they did, mostly, even though you got a lot of side eyes. Especially from the younger ones. You could see them practically vibrating with the need to talk to you. Especially the one in the hat. You can tell he’s gonna go for it before his mouth even opens.

“So, Eddie tells us he’s helping you get around for your classes.” The kid is being casual, and it’s so endearing, you can’t even be mad. A pretzel hits the kid in the face, Eddie looks like he’s ready to leap over the table and strangle him.

“Down boy, it’s ok.” You give him a little smile, so he knows you’re not mad. “Yes, Eddie’s helping me so he can get out of detention. It works out.” You give the kid the best smile you can manage, which you’re sure looks weak on your blood drained face.

The boy nods a little and says, “That’s a sweet deal for him, though, isn’t it? He gets to leave classes early and he gets out of detention.” Another pretzel is lobbed at the kid’s face, and now you’re giggling.

“You’re definitely right, I’m not sure what I’m getting out of it.”

“Can I ask –“ before the words come out of his mouth, Eddie is walking over to put his arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“Dustin, what did we talk about?” Dustin, you’ll remember that.

“You said that you had a friend joining us and we had to leave her alone. But –“ Eddie tightens his grip, but Dustin persists, “BUT, I just want her to know that as a fellow disabled person, she can talk to me! Ok, I’m done now.”

The rest of the lunch period goes by without any incidents, but Dustin does slide over half of his oatmeal cookie to you at one point with a giant grin on his face. You mouth a little “thanks” and give him a weak smile.

Eddie gets you to and from the last few classes of the day, and even walks you out to your car after your last class. As the day goes on you, you decide to accept his help with as much grace as you can. Especially because the situation is actually helping him too. It makes it easier to swallow. Less like pity.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning, Ilene.” His delivery of the joke is lame, and you let it hang in the air for a minute, letting him squirm. “You get it? Ilene?”

“Yeah, I get it Eddie.” You let your face fall, casting your eyes to the floor of your car. “That’s really insensitive. Maybe I should tell Principal Higgins to get me a new errand boy.” You’re trying to bite back the smirk his lame joke is threatening to bring to your mouth.

“I’m sorry, I thought it was funny –“

You’re giggling at his panic, “Eddie, that joke was so lame, it offended me. Do better. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[vgperson]

What Did I Do In 2023?

Whatever I wanted, mostly.

----

As I mentioned last year, my site now has an RSS feed with basically everything I've done back to 2020, so this will mainly be going over the same stuff from that, just with added context.

In January, I finally sat down and properly realized an idea for a short story I'd had sitting around for a while: From the Sidelines, about a fantasy RPG expedition going sideways. I remain very proud of it in both concept and execution, and hope people read it.

In February, Your Turn To Die was released on Steam Early Access, receiving character profiles and some bonus mini-episodes, adding two more later in the year.

After finishing From the Sidelines, I carried that momentum to revisit my Ut0p1a story series about funny computer animals. I'd always meant to continue it - and conclude it - but hadn't been satisfied with the ideas I had for it until totally rethinking them this year. In March, I posted the remaining stories one after another: Right to Code and Left to Code. I'm very proud of these as well. Also in March, Kenshi Yonezu released LADY. (Video, interview)

In April, Uri released the Data Book of the Strange Men Series, a big collection of the writing she's done on the games in the series, with a lot of new parts as well, all translated by me.

Then in May... uh, well, let's see. In April, Capcom released the Mega Man Battle Network Legacy Collection. I always adored the Battle Network games, and was initially excited that they finally did the thing... but by the time it came out, I was pretty disappointed by how, while you certainly couldn't call them low-effort ports, the effort didn't extend everywhere I thought it should, with the biggest offenders being the total absence of any "convenience features" except Buster Max Mode, the bad font, and the almost entirely untouched translations.

So, I ended up deciding I might as well just replay the originals, and that was a fun time (aside from the parts that were bad). Doing this, I couldn't help but notice how... turbulent the translations were, even if I'd always known they were less than ideal. I mean, the first two games just used periods for ellipses despite the tight character limits, then in BN3 they had an ellipsis character... but it's center-aligned, Japanese-style? Aside from the intro, which has normal ones? Gosh, somebody should fix that - it's simple enough to find and edit in YY-CHR. "JapanMan" is silly, too - I wonder if anybody made a patch for that? Wait, what do you mean there's just a tool to extract and insert text in all the Battle Network games including the Legacy Collection???

Thus began a journey that sort of occupied the rest of my year. First I did the BN3 Translation Revision, trying not to worry too much about cross-referencing the Japanese text unless something seemed wrong, so that I didn't spend too long on the project. Then I began to consider BN2, with its unfortunate "foreigner" text that would need some more significant reworking. I established more convenient tools for comparing with the Japanese script, and thus did a much more thorough job with it, releasing the BN2 Translation Revision in June (AKA Princess Pride Month).

Finally, after giving myself time to recover and actually finish replaying the series, I knew what I had to do to close things out. With the BN4 Translation Revision, you can finally play Battle Network 4 with a translation that isn't such a mess. Whether you'd want to is for you to decide, though if you can get over the structure, I don't think it's the worst game in the series by any means. (Oh, and in December I also updated the BN3 Revision to 1.1, doing a thorough pass with the methods I'd honed. But I think I'm pretty much good on MMBN translations now.)

Anyway, backtracking to other things that happened during my Battle Network haze... June had Kenshi Yonezu's Moongazing (video, interview), and July had Globe (video, interview, interview).

Last but not least, released in November, I translated Refind Self: The Personality Test Game, a short game from Lizardry (creator of 7 Days to End with You) with a fun concept.

----

Obviously I was right to have said "no promises" last year. But really, Your Turn To Die should get its final part on Steam sometime next year, maybe even early-ish in it. That's certainly the goal.

I'm also hoping to buckle down and finish one of my own games, but as usual, who knows how that'll pan out. Letting my whims carry me this year let me finally finish From the Sidelines and Ut0p1a, which was great, and it also led me down a Battle Network rabbit hole, which was... fine, but definitely for a narrower audience. I'd always like to get back to more free game translations and the like, too, but it takes effort to find things I'd want to translate. For now, I think my increasing desire to be able to let loose some of these original games I've been planning, and the stories in them, might come out on top.

[604to647]

Safest with You - Ch. 3 (The Drycleaner)

3.2K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You listen to a sign from the universe and it leads you to Din.

Warnings: Some pining and then more fluff 💕 although Reader is a bit of menace as she straight up ogles Din like a piece of meat 😂, brief mention of female masturbation, reader is described as shorter than Din, first use of pet name “Pretty Bird”.

A/N: The series is slow but sometimes falling in love be like that. I pinned a series masterlist, so you can always jump to the smutty one shots that happen later in the timeline when these two are in an established relationship if you need a fix. The fact that Din boxes is 100% attributed to @djarinsbeskar's Boxer!Din AU which was the very first Din fic AU I ever read on Tumblr and remains one of my favourites and one I revisit often; making Din a former boxer/owner of a boxing gym is my small but humble homage to Rachel's genius. Also from that same AU is this piece of art from one of my favourite artists, @kate-komics that I think about often also. Thank you both for the inspiration!

“He bought you books?!?”

“Well, technically, he bought us all books.”

The whole table laughs; your friends were delighted when you handed out the books, but they’re entralled at the background story that comes with.

“And he didn’t leave you his number or anything?”

“No! Told the cashier he didn’t want to want me to feel ‘obligated’.”

“It’s okay, babe.  We’ll find him,” nods Katie, whipping out her phone. 

Bea starts typing on her phone as well, “Right.  He said his name is Din?  How do you spell that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it short for something?”

“I don’t know.”

“How old is he?”

“I don’t know.  40s?  He’s greying,” you picture Din’s soft curls and bury your face in your hands, “it looks so fucking good on him.” 

“Where does he work?”

“I don’t know.  Not downtown.”

“Well, what does he do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Babe. What do you know?”

“I know his coffee order is Ice Quad Expresso in a Venti cup with extra ice and six shots.”

“Ok, so we know he probably has a heart condition.”

Everyone bursts out laughing.  Your friends have good reason to be so enthusiastic – it’s been ages since someone has caught your eye.  You don’t date a lot, and that’s always been your preference.  You have a picky temperament to begin with, but the truth is, you’re happy and at peace with the way your life is now after years of hard work.  There simply hasn’t been room or a need for a partner, and your friends don’t push you to date (except Jen who always reminds you that there’s a guy at her firm she wants to set you up with, but even that’s more in good fun than anything).  But right now, you look flushed and besotted over this stranger; positively smitten.  They love it for you.

After a few minutes, no one has found anything on social media, any dating apps or Google – admittedly, there wasn’t much (anything?) to go on, but you’ve seen these girls work internet detective miracles before.

Oh well. 

You sigh, “I need to get drunk and forget him.  Or painfully obsess over every detail I can remember.”

And you all cheers to that.

---

Huh.

A week later on the Saturday, you’re out running errands, and you find yourself standing in front of your drycleaner which has unexpectedly closed.  A handwritten sign in the window reads: “Emergency Closure.  Reopening to be announced.”

The drycleaner’s is supposed to be your first stop of the day and you don’t really feel like carting your dirty clothes with you to run the rest of your errands.  Moreover, you’ll need a few of the items in the coming weeks.  You take out your phone to look up other drycleaners in the area when something in your mind clicks: Peli’s Drycleaning on 14th.  You search it and see it actually exists, and has a pretty good rating to boot.  But, it’s sort of out of your way, not really in the same area you’re in at all.

You shouldn’t go.

Should you go?

And what if you do?  Do you… ask about Din?  That’s weird. 

But you’ve been thinking about him non-stop all week: daydreaming about his soft smile during your work commute, remembering the flex of his strong hand covering yours as you answer emails, getting lost in thoughts of his big brown eyes while out walking the dog.  You flush at the memory of touching yourself in bed while recalling his deep and rich voice.  Every attempt to forget your handsome Quad Ice over the past week has utterly failed.

Eff it. What are the chances that you unexpectedly need a new drycleaner, and it happens to be the only thing tangentially related to Din that you know? Maybe the universe is trying to help you out.

Before you can characteristically overthink it, you flag down a cab and give the driver the address you looked up; your heart pounds the entire ride over.

When you step into drycleaner’s, a little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival, and a short woman with a huge amount of curly dark hair appears from the back.  You think she might be Peli, but you can’t be sure; she gives you a huge smile and gestures to take in your clothes.  Finding her to be super friendly and chatty, the two of you make easy small talk as she neatly lists out your items by hand on her notepad.  When she gets to the coffee stained skirt, she lets out a low whistle, “Oof.  Been there, done that!” she quips.  You decide this is probably the best opening you’ll get, “Actually, that coffee stain is probably why I’m here.  Someone saw it and recommended your place.”  Peli raises her eyebrow as you press on, “His name is Din, he said he’s a friend of the owner?”

This gets her attention; the woman stops what she’s doing and studies you with great interest.  Her face breaks out into an impossibly wide smile and she exclaims loudly, “Din sent you, eh?  And he said we were friends?”  she lets out a deep belly laugh, “Babysat him when he was a kid, but yep we’re friends. Ha!  Hi, I’m Peli!”  She shakes your hand as you introduce yourself. “He said to mention his name and you would try harder not to lose my clothes,” you joke. 

“That scamp!” chortles Peli, “Don’t worry!  We’ll take good care of you!  You know… because of Din.” She rolls her eyes good naturedly.

“Of course.  Because of Din,” you grin back, “So…does he send a lot of… people who need drycleaning, your way?”

“Nope!  You’re the first!  And honestly, now that I think about it, why hasn’t he been sending me more business?”

You figure it’s now or never, “Do you know where I could find him?”

If possible, Peli brightens even more at your question, “Oh yeah, for sure!  At this time of day, he’ll be at his gym.  It’s about 2 blocks that way,” she points in the direction for you, “can’t miss it!  Big sign that says ‘Mando’s Gym’.”

Peli finishes taking down your information for the clothes and lets you know when everything can be ready.  You give her an enthusiastic thanks; when opening the door to leave, you have a moment of hesitation, but looking back, you find Peli already pointing in the direction of the gym.  You give her a smiling nod and head that way.

---

Peli was right.  You can’t miss the sign; it sits atop of a standalone three story building that’s set further back on its lot.  The front area of the lot looks like it might have once been a driveway of sorts, but is now used as a parking lot; a handful of parked cars lets you know the gym is fairly busy today.  The front of the building has giant windows that look like garage doors and makes you think that the building might have once been a mechanic repair shop; from the little of what you can see inside, you think the gym occupies the first floor of the building and possibly the second.  The big set of garage door windows are separated in the middle by an entry way that you walk through, slightly nervous.  Once inside, you see a reception but currently no one behind the small desk; instead, you peek around the partition wall behind the desk and see that the space opens up to a clean, spacious room that has about 8-10 people working out on various machines and punching bags lining the walls, all leading to a larger group of people clustering near the boxing ring centered at the back of the room.

You’re making your way towards the back, scanning over the group looking for Din when you spot him, right in the middle of the ring.  He’s got his gloved hands up, blocking part of his head, but you can still tell it’s him; when you hear him shouting encouraging words to his sparring partner, his familiar voice sends a shiver up your spine.  He’s wearing a sweat drenched grey t-shirt and his hair is messy and wet from his work out, but he looks even better than you remember.

Actually, he looks fucking delicious.  From this angle you can see the cut of his jawline and how it tightens as his grunts and pants.  His arms are flexed from his forearms up to his biceps, and are so muscular they’re straining hard against his shirt sleeves.  You must be straight up ogling him because you don’t even realize when Din notices you; you’re too busy looking at his legs and admiring how his thighs fill out his navy blue shorts so snugly.  You only look up when those same legs start walking in your direction and come to a stop at the edge of the ring.  Din is leaning towards you against the rope with a heart-stopping smile, “It’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me,” you grin, repeating back his words to you from the bookstore.

Din thinks he must be dreaming, or maybe he’s been knocked in the head one too many times today.  He had just paused the fight to show Jimmy the new combination again, when he looked over to see the prettiest sight.  You, standing in his gym, soft and dainty, with a wide eye expression on your face.  You’re looking in his direction, but when you don’t make eye contact with him immediately, Din allows himself the smug thought that you might be liking what you see and puffs his chest out a little before making his way over to you.

Now you’re looking at him with that same pretty smile that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head for the last week, and he can’t wait to talk to you again, “Are you okay to wait for 5 minutes?  We’re just finishing up this training session.”

You nod agreeably, “Sure, I can wait.”  There’s a bench running along the right side of the ring where you take a seat to better enjoy the show.  You’ve never seen boxing up close before, so you don’t know what to expect, but you find yourself mesmerized by everything Din is doing in the ring.  All his movements are intentional and graceful; he’s in total control of every motion he makes: ducking, blocking, punching.  His muscles are all flexed and his shirt stretches tight, barely containing them as if Din himself is an extension of the explosive power harnessed in his fists.  The legs that you were drooling over earlier are quick and agile; it’s true you don’t know his age but his sparring partner looks to be in his mid-20s and Din is having no problem out maneuvering him.

As he circles the other fighter, you think you spy some ink on a flash of some exposed skin and the idea of exploring what’s underneath Din’s shirt has you swallowing hard.  In short, you can’t take your eyes off of him. 

The 5 minutes is action packed and over before you know it.  In one continuous smooth motion, Din ducks under the rope, jumps down and grabs a fresh towel from a stack on the other end of the bench you’re sitting on before sliding over to sit next to you.  He looks at you almost bashfully as he towels off his hair and wipes the sweat from his brow and neck.  You think you could get used to seeing him like this: cheeks pink from exercise, bright eyes glued to yours and a grin so wide it reveals a deep dimple in his right cheek that you’re discovering for the first time.  He’s taking your breath away and you haven’t even been back in his presence for more than 10 minutes.

“What brings you to this part of town today, pretty bird?”

If anyone else had bestowed a pet name on you so soon after having met, you would have immediately gotten the ick, but the endearment rolling off Din’s tongue sounds so natural and sweet, it has you melting, “Some handsome guy bought me a thick stack of books and then made it nearly impossible for me to thank him.  Tracked him down to this gym.”

“Handsome guy, eh?”

“Yep.  Real handsome.  And sweet.  You know anyone around here like that?” you tease.

Handsome.  You think he’s handsome. Din thinks his heart is in danger of no longer fitting in his chest.  He holds his hand up to his brow, as if to shield his eyes from the light, and mines looking around gym in an exaggerated manner, “Nope.  Just a bunch of smelly, sweaty ruffians.  Owner’s a handsome guy though, maybe you’re looking for him,” he says, eyes twinkling.

“You own this gym?”

“Sure do.  Used to be my dad’s.”

“Well, he would be proud of you and what you’ve done here, Din.  It looks great.”  You mean it, and you look around the gym with a renewed sense of awe now that you know Din is the one responsible for its operations.

Din’s not sure how you knew the exact thing to say to make his heart swell, but he knows without a doubt that you’re being genuine and he is reminded again of your kind nature. 

You look back to see Din looking at you with a soft expression and before you let yourself get lost in his eyes, you force yourself to pull it together, “Oh Din!  I can’t believe I didn’t say this right away: Thank you!! Thank you for the books.  It was so incredibly unexpected and sweet!  My friends also say thank you – a few of the books you bought were for them.”

“You’re very welcome.  Have you enjoyed the books?”

You’re warmed by how thoughtful Din is, and you let him know the books are turning out to be great and you and your friends can’t believe how long you’ll have to wait for the next instalment to come out.

“Do you have plans to read tonight, or would you happen to be free?”

Even though you had been hoping that Din would ask you out, your heart leaps into your throat now that it’s happening.  “I think I should be!  If I finish up this list of errands I’m supposed to get to today, that is.  Giving Peli my drycleaning was only the first item,” you lament. 

“Peli!  Is that how you found me?  Clever girl.”

You beam at Din’s praise.  You realize you haven’t explained how you knew where he was, “As luck would have it, my regular drycleaner was unexpectedly closed.  Nearly derailed my whole errand day until I remembered you mentioning you had a friend who ran a drycleaning business.  Something else I need to thank you for.”

“I’m glad I could help.  Well, if you have a bunch of errands you have to finish before you can go out with me tonight, I’m going to scoot you out of here right now so you don’t cancel. Scoot!”  Din adds a silly shooing motion with his hands as he says this, so you know he’s not seriously trying to get rid of you.  You giggle, but nod, eager to get on with your tasks so that your date with Din might come sooner.

Din asks you if you need a ride, but you tell him you’ll be fine and jokingly scoff, “Hey!  I don’t want you putting off your work and then backing out either, mister.”

“Not a chance,” grins Din.

As you walk together towards the front of the gym, Din lets you know how much he’s been thinking about you,  “I’m really glad you came to here today.  I was about to camp out everyday at the coffeeshop in the morning and then that bookstore in the afternoon until I found you again.”

“Who would have looked after the gym if you did that?”

Din looks around at the gym; some of the boxers and staff that had been watching the two of you look away quickly and pretend to busy themselves to avoid being caught staring.  “Shoot.  This place probably would have burned down.  Looks like you just saved the gym.”

You can’t help but giggle again and Din feels a growing sense of pride in being able to make you laugh.  “How about tonight I take you out to dinner as a thank you?”

Giving him an incredulous look, you answer, “I should be taking you out to dinner to thank you.”

“I don’t think so, pretty bird.”

The pet name shoots straight to your core again. 

Din stretches himself up to his full height and looks down at you with mock stern expression, cocking his eyebrow.

You can’t say you’re at all intimidated even though he towers over you; you’ve long since felt that Din’s company spelled safety.  But to play along, you counter by looking up at him with your biggest pleading eyes.  Din is instantly disarmed and knows in this moment that he will never be able to refuse you anything.

He suggests a compromise, “How about we go for dinner and fight about the check there?”

“Ok.  But just so you know, I’m not used to losing,” you challenge playfully.

“Me neither.” Din tilts his head slightly to draw your attention to the wall you’re standing next to.  It’s the other side of the divider wall you rounded when you came in, and you see that it’s covered with awards, certificates, and articles lauding Din’s boxing accomplishments.

Amazed, you skim over the honours and achievements, “This is you?  Wow – you’re incredible Din!  …9 times weight division champion? Oh man, now I don’t know if I can take you.”

“I bet you could,” from the look on Din’s face, you’re sure that the double meaning is meant as a tease, but you can’t help squirming a little.

Blushing, you relent, “Ok, you can pay for dinner.  But I still have to thank you for the books.”

Din is finding your persistence on this point to be adorable, “Your ‘thanks’ is enough.  No need to feel like you owe me; it was a gift.”

“I know.  I just have an outrageous sense of reciprocity.  I really do want to find a way to thank you somehow.”  You reach up and put your hand on Din’s shoulder to hold yourself steady as you lift up onto your toes and kiss him on the cheek.  Despite having just gone who knows how many rounds in the ring, he smells incredible and you can’t help but linger your lips on his cheek.  You exhale softly and hold Din’s gaze as you slowly lower down to your normal height.

Din looks as affected as you feel, “Remind me to buy you some more books.”

Both of you laugh, now giddy about the prospect of seeing each other again in a few hours.  You exchange numbers and Din promises to text you later with the address of the restaurant he’ll meet you at tonight.

Heading down the street, heart aflutter and fingers trembling with excitement, you take out your phone and text the group chat: I found him.

[simsi45]

The Sims 4 Amber House Pack - EARLY ACCESS RELEASE!

!!!THE PACK IS CURRENTLY IN EARLY ACCESS AVAILABLE FOR MY PATREON MEMBERS (3-5$ TIERS) AND WILL COME OUT FOR THE PUBLIC IN THE 12TH OF MAY!!!

CLICK HERE TO GO TO THE PATREON PAGE!

Oh...my...GOD!!! I can't believe this is actually happening....

After 3 years of hard work, I am here to welcome everyone to:

The Sims 4 Amber House Pack!

It's time to create your own mission style dream house, with this collection of 345 brand new and hella cool build/buy mode items, inspired by Dontnod's "Life is Strange: Before the Storm" game.

EARLY ACCESS: You can get the pack right now, on my PATREON on the 3-5$ tiers, or wait for the 12th of May for the public release!

Please read EVERYTHING included in the post as it contains useful information about the pack!

DISCLAIMER: Simsi45 or The Sims 4 Amber House Pack is NOT affiliated or associated with Electronic Arts, Square Enix, Deck Nine or Dontnod in ANY way. This is a purely fanmade pack made by me, a fan of both games that wanted to get the best of both worlds.

FEATURES:

 345 new items (including sofas, tables, decor, windows, doors and much much more!)

 Search for "amberhouse", "lis", "simsi45" to find most of the items in the build/buy catalog.

 Custom original names and descriptions. (the best I could come up with :P)

 Tons of custom recolors (based on original textures) to mix and match items more easily.

 Heavy modification on original meshes and textures, including english text turned into simlish.

 Everything has been playtested thoroughly.

 Included are a couple of easter egg items from The Sims 2 that I thought fit the theme well.

New lot I made showcased in the trailer and pics (found in the gallery under my tag @simsi45_mods) a recreation of Rachel Amber's house.

ABOUT THE LOT:

The lot will be eventually uploaded in the gallery once it passes its finishing stages. You will be able to find it in the gallery under my EA id: @simsi45_mods. I will update you all once it becomes available.

NOTES:

~ The pack is in an EARLY-ACCESS STATE! I have dedicated a lot of time to test everything but I'm a team of just a single person. If you find any issues please let me know so I can take a look.

~ Because of the amount of items the size of the pack is quite big. I tried my best to make everything as compact as possible with the final size being 1.5 GB of required free space. 

~ The majority of the meshes and textures of these items are ripped straight from the LIS: Before the Storm game, and then each individual item (both mesh and textures) has been heavily modified and edited to fit and function properly within the Sims 4 game's engine. That's why some items will look identical to the original game, some look somewhat different, and some are brand new meshes I made using the original items.

~ Some of the original ripped meshes' poly counts were WAY too high so I had to lower the polygons so The Sims 4 wouldn't explode when filling a lot with them. I lowered the polygons and edited most of the items as much as possible without compromising their original look too much. In other words I tried to find the best balance between looks and performance and after lots of testing on my moderate PC system, I can confirm the game runs super smoothly on my end. 

BACKSTORY ABOUT THE PACK (no spoilers):

This pack started with an idea I got back in 2017 when I first played Life Is Strange Before The Storm. When visiting the Amber house, I immediately fell in love with it as I am huge fan of the craftsman architectural style, it's literally all I'd want my dream house to be. The art team has done an incredible job on it, and as I personally find the art style of the Life is Strange series and The Sims 4 to fit very well with each other, I wanted to make these assets available for The Sims 4. Of course back then this all seemed impossible, however a few years later in 2020 during quarantine I revisited the idea as it had been stuck on my wishlist ever since.

To make a long story short, this project has been in the works for about 3 years now, and after a lot of hard work, head scratching and quite a few sleepless nights I managed to overcome all the obstacles I came across (which were a lot mind you) and I'm honestly hoping you'll be as pleased with the results as I am. Seriously this exceeded my expectations as it started as a small little pack for my personal use, to what I'd consider an expansion pack's (or even more) worth of build/buy content.

INSTALLATION:

Due to the size of the pack I had to split it up into multiple parts. You will need a .RAR extractor unpack it. More specifically:

1 -> Download ALL 6 parts of the pack and put them ALL in the same folder. 2 -> Right click the 1st part .RAR file named "Simsi45 - The Sims 4 Amber House Pack.part1" and click "Extract Here"   3 -> Once that's finished a package file will appear, this is the entire pack and you can now move that into The Sims 4/Mods. Simple as that!

CREDITS & THANKS:

~Dontnod, Square Enix, Deck Nine for the original meshes & textures ripped from Life is Strange: Before the Storm that were used to create most of the items.

~EA for some meshes & textures used to convert some items from The Sims 2.

Special thank you to all the patreon members that stuck with me throughout me developing the pack. Although not many I really appreciate every single one of you for the support you've given me and for sticking around!

[mustardyellowsunshine]

In today's episode of Shut Up Robin, Nobody Cares:

I finished Maison Ikkoku back in February, and I had a lot of feelings about the series. (It's good, do yourself a favor and go read it if you haven't.) As I read through it, I couldn't shake the thought: this is the caliber of romantic development Rumiko Takahashi can bring to the table?? We could've had this kind of relationship development in InuYasha??? 😭😭

The other thought I couldn't shake: InuYasha fans who still question the sincerity and depth of InuYasha's feelings for Kagome might benefit from reading Maison Ikkoku all the way to the end. They should read the final chapters of Maison Ikkoku, think for awhile about the blatant parallel themes found in InuYasha, and then try reevaluating InuKag's dynamic.

Now, I should clarify: I think the InuYasha series already makes it abundantly self-evident that the Inu/Kag/Kik "triangle" (🙄) is a complex situation that puts InuYasha in an extremely difficult position. (Well, it puts all of them in a difficult position, but you get the idea.) You just have to read the series with your brain on to see that. To review: teenage boy is tricked and terrorized by a demonic murderer; that demon successfully murders the boy's ex while masquerading as him; later his ex is revived from the dead against her will, wanders the earth as a vengeful spirit for awhile (who wouldn't be pissed about being brought back into that bullshit?), and is actively stalked by the demon who already murdered her once; teenage boy is falling in love with someone else when this happens, but he still wants to save his ex from being re-victimized by the demon who already brutally murdered her once. Anyone who sees that situation and describes it with a straight face as "InuYasha needs to make up his mind already" is probably never going to reconsider their assessment of InuYasha's character. They've already formed an opinion in defiance of the evidence. That ship done sailed.

But for some folks, I think experiencing the way Maison Ikkoku explores the same relationship themes—and particularly how it resolves those themes in the final chapters—could help them re-evaluate the emotional nuances in InuKag's relationship, and maybe help to re-contextualize the Inu/Kag/Kik conflict.

The parallels between Godai/Kyoko and InuYasha/Kagome are pretty obvious—Rumiko Takahashi consistently revisits this relationship dynamic in her work (it's present in Mao to a lesser extent). But I think Maison Ikkoku more directly confronts the emotional complexity of that dynamic. You can feel the difference in how RT more directly explores the messiness, complications, and pain of a) grieving a former relationship even while falling in love with someone else, and b) loving someone who is still tangled up in grieving their past. The InuYasha series obviously deals with those themes too, but Maison Ikkoku brings more focus and resolution to its exploration.

This may be for two reasons: 1) Maison Ikkoku had an older audience, as it was published in a seinen magazine geared for adult men between 18 - 40 years old, and 2) the relationship tension between Godai/Kyoko pretty much constitutes the main story of Maison Ikkoku; in InuYasha, the plot (such as it is) revolves around a vengeance quest and the monster of the week, and the relationship tensions between InuKag are second to that. Maybe that's why RT was more willing to get into the weeds with Godai/Kyoko and to more directly resolve the tension.

InuYasha does have some standout chapters where it explicitly deals with the tension of InuKag's situation (e.g., chapter 78, chapter 124, chapter 176, chapter 286, chapter 458, etc.), but there's this distinct hesitance in the narrative to resolve that tension in a substantive way. That's one of my beefs with the InuYasha series: it gives us moments of standout, concrete relationship development which then doesn't impact the future narrative all that much. The same relationship conflicts play out over and over again, well past their narrative expiration dates. See: Miroku flirting with women right in front of Sango after they've acknowledged feelings for each other; also the entire Kaō arc, which just... I do not understand the narrative purpose of that arc when it just exacerbates tensions that already existed and resolves none of them. Anyway. I digress.

You could argue this hesitance to permanently resolve relationship conflict comes from the episodic nature of InuYasha's storytelling. There's some truth to that, but that's not a satisfying explanation for why the main couple's relational status quo remains inert for the latter half of the series. Maison Ikkoku also does this to an extent—the "will they, won't they?" tension is strung along for as long as possible—but in general Maison Ikkoku does a better job of allowing relationship development to actually affect the narrative. Moments of emotional revelation and growth do change the relational status quo between Godai and Kyoko. They don't stay in quite the same relationship limbo that InuYasha and Kagome get stuck in for the latter half of the series. (It probably also helps that Maison Ikkoku is significantly shorter than InuYasha.)

All that to say: I think Godai/Kyoko is actually a useful mirror for examining InuKag, because they share the same themes and relationship dynamics without sharing the same narrative failings.

Okay, so: big time major spoilers ahead for Maison Ikkoku. Stop here if you don't want to see the conclusion of that series.

I want to look at how Maison Ikkoku's conclusion simultaneously revisits and resolves the main conflict between Godai/Kyoko.

Ahhhhhh my feelings!!! Man I love this series.

Okay, let's review the major takeaways from this scene:

• Notice how the tension between Godai and Kyoko—Godai's struggle with insecurity and Kyoko's feelings for her deceased husband—mirrors the tension between InuKag. And notice that the reader is encouraged to sympathize with both Godai and Kyoko. Godai is not "at fault" for struggling with insecurity and feelings of jealousy. That's a natural human feeling to have, especially in a relationship that hasn't been anywhere near secure until very recently. And despite whatever jealousy or inadequacy he may be feeling, Godai tries to see things from Kyoko's perspective. Part of Godai's struggle—the heartache of it—is his understanding that Kyoko is also not at fault. It's not her fault that she married before she ever met Godai, it's not her fault her husband died, and it's not her fault that she's struggling with the grief of that tragedy. She's trying to reorient herself to her new life after loss; she's falling in love with Godai, but she's also scared of betraying her husband's memory. (Let's hold that mirror up to InuYasha now, shall we? SHALL WE?) Moving on from Soichiro emotionally represents to Kyoko a breach of duty to a loved one.

• To reiterate: neither Godai nor Kyoko are "at fault" in this situation. That's precisely why it's a tragedy. They both have to process painful, messy feelings; both their feelings are valid and understandable. (Hold that mirror up to InuKag, girl. HOLD IT UP.)

• Notice how Godai explicitly acknowledges that loving Kyoko means loving the Kyoko who once loved Soichiro. "On the day I met Kyoko, you were already within her. That's the Kyoko I fell in love with." It's impossible to divorce Kyoko from her feelings for her former husband: that part of her life significantly shaped her into who she is. And I just love that Godai is hashing out his feelings at Soichiro's grave: it shows a sort of respect for Soichiro's memory, but more importantly it also shows that Godai knows his negative feelings can't ultimately be "fixed" by Kyoko. If she could fix them, he'd be having this conversation with her. (And by this point in the series they have had this conversation.) But Godai knows he's the only one who can truly work through/resolve his insecurity—especially now, when Kyoko has already assured him that she loves him—and I love how the scene's setting subtly demonstrates that. Soichiro's ghost is haunting Godai's feelings, not Kyoko's, and Godai is trying to work through that with Soichiro himself. There's no love triangle to resolve here: what needs resolving is Godai's own feelings of inadequacy which no amount of assurance from Kyoko can ultimately "fix." This is his ghost to fight. (We get an echo of this kind of inner conflict in chapter 458 of InuYasha: Kagome directly wrestles with the "ghost" of Kikyo and struggles toward some resolution of her own insecurities.... Only for the Kaō arc to come along later and materially damage that resolution and character growth for no clear reason, BUT I DIGRESS.) And this scene shows that Godai wins that fight: he comes to understand that loving Kyoko has to include accepting her past. Kagome reaches a very similar understanding in chapters 175 and 176 of InuYasha.

• To reiterate: Maison Ikkoku's conclusion is not the resolution of a "love triangle." It's the resolution of a series-long conflict, which is completely different. In order for love triangles to work—to actually function as love triangles—two competing love interests have to be viable options. This is quite evidently not the case in Maison Ikkoku: Soichiro is dead at the start of the series. It's literally impossible for Kyoko to choose him in any meaningful way. RT blatantly acknowledges this early in the series when Kyoko's father-in-law tells her she has to live her life. I cannot stress enough how self-consciously the series is not about a love triangle between Godai/Kyoko/Soichiro. (Mitaka is another matter entirely, for a different post.) Rather, the series is about the damaging power of grief in our lives, the rocky and painfully non-linear journey to healing from that grief, and how messy, fraught, and ultimately profoundly beautiful it is to love another person for exactly who they are — past pain/trauma and all. (Please for the love of heaven hold that mirror up to InuKag.)

• No, you know what? I'm not leaving that at a parenthetical. I'm just gonna say it: exactly as Maison Ikkoku is not about a love triangle, InuYasha isn't either. For the same reasons as stated above, the Inu/Kag/Kik dynamic is not ultimately a love triangle because Kikyo is dead at the start of the series. And while her spirit is magically revived—in an altered/diminished form—she is still not truly alive. The story conspicuously communicates this: her body is literally created from decomposing bones and cannot sustain itself (she needs to consume souls—other deceased spirits—to remain animated), symbolically suggesting she is of the dead even as she walks among the living. This is a facsimile of life. RT is not subtle about this. Kikyo is a tragic and complex character whose arc can be interpreted in many ways, but I think it's fair to say that the series self-consciously represents her as a past which can't be recovered. The damage has been done. She is dead, time continues to move forward, and there's no reversing that. (That's, again, why it's a tragedy.) Even her resurrected body symbolically represents this reality via death imagery. Ergo, from the very start of the series—just as we see in Maison Ikkoku—Kikyo is not a truly viable option for InuYasha. He can't choose her in any meaningful way. To "choose" her would be to essentially choose death—abandonment of life—just as Kyoko choosing Soichiro would make her "a wife who hadn't died yet." Kikyo represents an irrecoverable past just as Soichiro does. And the main thematic trajectory of each series does not suggest that Kyoko/InuYasha should give up on life by choosing death — it suggests they should choose life. Godai and Kagome conspicuously represent life, the possibility of living into the future. (Kagome is literally from the future, that's how unsubtle RT is about this.)

(A quick aside while we're here: no, Kikyo's not being a viable option does nothing to diminish the sincerity of InuYasha's feelings for Kagome. Kagome is not a "second choice," for the love of God the series blatantly addresses that very thing many, many times—like it's right there y'all—and I have already written a long ass post about why Kagome's insecurity over InuYasha's feelings for her shouldn't be taken as gospel truth.)

So, rather than being an actual love triangle, I think the Inu/Kag/Kik dynamic is a complicated emotional landscape that explores the same themes Maison Ikkoku does: how grief and trauma affect our lives, how painful and messy it can be to heal from that grief, and that loving someone—choosing to take that mutual risk with them—means trusting that they mean it when they tell/show us they love us, and choosing to trust them more than our own insecurities.

It's just that Maison Ikkoku explores those themes a little better. 😅 Which is why I think it makes a good mirror for re-examining InuKag: all the same themes without all the narrative failings and missed opportunities. ✌🏼

[tigertales9]

QB1 - Part 3

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut / Fluff

Description: This is part 3 of QB1

(Part 1 = QB1 / Part 2 = QB1 - Part 2)

A/N: Buckle up, y'all! We're going to cover quite a bit of ground here. Part 3 of the QB1 series starts in the past and ends in the future. It's basically a highlight reel that spans 3 years, from spring 2023 to spring 2026.

I may eventually revisit this series. I have a couple of ideas for (shorter!) snapshots of their relationship.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Spring/Summer 2023

Y'all meet as often as possible over the spring and summer, working in visits around his training schedule and your job (you got a part-time job doing payroll for a local car dealership in your hometown. Not exactly how you envisioned using your (almost) business degree, but decent pay for something that came really easy to you and didn't take up a ton of time).

Every time you saw him he looked more muscular, his dirty-blonde curls growing ever longer since you told him how much you love playing with his hair and pulling it, especially during sex.

You met his parents on your third visit to Cincinnati; they were instantly warm and welcoming, quieting the fears you had that they might think you weren't good enough for Joe.

Joe was even more nervous to meet your parents than you were to meet his; the first two times he visited you, your parents made him sleep in the guest bedroom instead of in your bedroom with you. Just before he visited for the third time, your parents sat you down and gave you the 'you're both adults and can share the same bed' talk. You remember the look of delight on Joe's face when you told him. Y'all didn't dare have sex in your squeaky-ass bed, but your oversized purple bean bag had definitely seen some action.

You eventually met lots of his friends and teammates, mostly hosting dinners together at his house since you were still leery about being seen with him in public, terrified that QB2 would find out and cause a big enough backlash that Joe would decide you weren't really worth it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You're lying in his bed one night after a vigorous lovemaking session that started in the jacuzzi tub and eventually moved to the bed. He pushes up on an elbow, gazing down at you with an intense look.

"Move in with me," he whispers.

"What?" you give him an incredulous look. "Like … right now?"

"Yes. You can live here with me and finish your bachelor's degree online instead of living with your parents and driving thirty minutes to get to campus. I know it seems crazy but …"

"It doesn't seem crazy it is crazy. We barely know each other." You feel your anxiety leveling up since this is exactly what happened with QB2, and he refused to take no for an answer.

Joe bites his lip and gives you a sheepish smile. "You're right. I'm rushing things. -- I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," you whisper, your heart rate slowly returning to normal. "I just … I feel like I need to prove I can finish this degree on my own, then I'll be ready to move onto something else."

"Prove you can finish it?" he chortles. "You were knocking on a 4.0 before you dropped out. You only have four classes left. You can finish it easy." You stare at him for several seconds, watching his expression go from lighthearted to serious. "Oh," he mumbles. "It's not that simple is it?"

"No. QB2 told me I couldn't do it. I wasn't smart enough, wasn't good enough." You take a deep breath before continuing. "I need to do this on my terms okay?"

"I understand," he mutters. "Have you enrolled in your classes yet?"

"No. I thought I'd get your input on it before I make a final decision."

"Okay … listen … I'm gonna go heat up some leftover pizza; after that we can make a decision about your schedule. You have the final say, of course."

"Are you mad?"

"No, baby, I'm not mad," he sighs, kissing your forehead before striding from the room.

Fifteen minutes later you walk out of the bathroom, freshly showered and wearing a tiny pair of panties and one of his voluminous t-shirts. He smiles at you as you crawl onto the bed, handing you a paper plate with a large slice of pizza before nodding toward the laptop he's scrolling.

"Okay, you have four classes left," he says, taking a substantial bite of his pizza while scrolling with his free hand. "A Monday/Wednesday/Friday schedule makes the most sense, but hear me out, okay?" You nod as he continues. "Three of your classes are offered on Tuesday/Thursday. You'd have to take the other on Wednesday night." He makes a face. "Business Ethics & Law will be a major snoozefest as a night class, but it's not super difficult. You'll easily ace it." He gives you smile. "The best thing about the Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday schedule is you'll be able to head to the airport on Thursday after your final class. You'll touch down at CVG about 6:00 pm. You can stay Thursday through Sunday before you fly back Monday morning." You give him a big smile as he continues. "You'll have plenty of time to study since I'll be at practice, but at least we'll get to spend nights together."

"Sounds great," you sigh, opening your mouth to tell him that's the exact schedule you were considering. Before you get the words out he forges ahead. "Once football season starts, you'll be able to come to most of my games." Your smile immediately turns to a grimace. "What is it?" he asks. "You don't wanna come to my games?"

"It's not that," you sigh. "I just … I'm afraid QB2 will find out and ruin everything."

Joe takes in your worried expression for several seconds before speaking. "There's nothing he could say or do that would change the way I feel about you, okay? If you don't wanna come to my games that's fine, but don't worry about …"

"I do wanna come!" you blurt, giggling when he raises an eyebrow and gives you a dirty grin. "I'm talking about your football games, you perv."

Y'all both laugh for a bit before he responds. "This schedule is not ideal. With the early start plus the night class -- not to mention all of the travel -- it's gonna be hard, but I know you can do it."

You give him a cheeky look. "How hard?" you purr, squealing in delight when he tosses the empty paper plates off the bed before pouncing on you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Summer 2023 (June/July)

In the Bengals summer break before training camp, Joe tried to get you to go on a couple of vacations with him. After turning down a few ideas, you finally agreed to go on his family beach vacation to Florida after his mom called to invite you. You were still afraid to flaunt your relationship in public for fear QB2 would somehow ruin it, but thought it'd be fairly easy to blend in with a big group instead of just you two.

That trip was the first time Joe said 'I love you'. You called him over to rub extra sunscreen on his slightly-pink face and shoulders. He pressed his lips against your ear and said it almost casually, giving you a wink before he went back to playing catch. You hadn't said it back in the moment because you were stunned into silence, but later that night you returned the sentiment, both verbally and non-verbally, telling him and showing him just how much he meant to you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

August 2023

Joe's first preseason game took place a week before your classes started. You had plans to attend, but you developed a nasty head cold a few days prior which caused you to stay home. Since his next two preseason games were on the road, you decided it would be best to just focus on your classes and getting settled into your routine. It was by far the longest y'all had gone without seeing each other in person since you met back in February. Joe was a little grumpy even though he was playing really well.

"I need you here with me," he grouched after his final preseason game.

"I'll be there Thursday," you soothed.

"Not soon enough," he muttered. "I haven't seen you in like five years."

"It hasn't been quite that long," you chuckled.

"Feels like twice that long," he grumped. "I miss you."

"Miss you too."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

About a month into fall semester, you start thinking about MBA options, bringing it up to Joe one night while eating leftover spicy lo mein while naked in bed.

"I'm mostly considering the two or three year options so I can work at least part time but hopefully full time. I'm leaning toward doing the entire thing online."

You take another bite of the spicy noodles while studying Joe's reaction. He nods his head before speaking. "What about an accelerated MBA? Twelve months, all online classes." He shrugs ."It'll be intense, but you can do it. You're smart as hell."

"I've looked into that, but I wouldn't have time to work as much if I went that route."

"You don't need to work since you'll be living here with me."

You're shaking your head no before he finishes his sentence. "You already pay for way too much, Joe. When we move in together, I wanna be able to pay my share. I don't want you to pay all of my bills."

"I get paid multi millions of dollars to throw a fucking football; let me spend some of that money on the woman I love, okay?"

You give him a sad smile. "I've heard that line before, and it was eventually used against me."

Joe studies your face for several seconds before responding. "I'm not him," he states.

"I'm sorry. I know you're not, but …"

"Then give me a chance to prove it."

And that's how you agreed to move in with Joe as soon as your fall semester ended. It felt like jumping out of an airplane not knowing if your parachute would open, but if anyone deserved a leap of faith from you, it was Joe.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunday, October 15, 2023 - Paycor Stadium - Seattle vs Cincinnati - 12:00 PM kickoff

You're walking out of Paycor Stadium with Joe's parents on a beautiful fall afternoon -- still buzzing from Joe's electric performance -- when you hear someone call your name; you turn your head in their direction, grimacing when you have a phone shoved in your face.

"See! I told you it was her," the girl filming you shouts excitedly. "QB2's ex at the game with Joe Burrow's parents. Are you dating Joe now? Did you cheat on QB2 with Joe?"

You feel your stomach turn as Robin steps in between you and the screeching girl. "Don't say anything," she whispers, smiling at the security guard who walks up to escort y'all the rest of the way to your car.

"What a disaster," you sniff as you slide into the car with Joe's parents. "I hope he doesn't get ambushed with this crap in the post-game presser."

Robin turns around and gives you a smile. "Don't worry about that. He can handle it. Frankly, I'm surprised it took this long for the rabid fangirls to figure things out since this is the third game you've been to, but … he can handle it."

They drop you off at Joe's house before heading back to Athens; you pace around the house, trying to calm your nerves while waiting for Joe to get home.

You finally hear the garage door open, your heart jumping into your throat when Joe walks into the room and gives you an enigmatic smile before pulling his phone out and loading the post-game presser, knowing you were avoiding it like the plague. "Look," he says, handing you the phone before stepping back. You chew on your lip while staring at the screen, straining to hear the question being asked before Joe's deep voice answers.

"You know I don't like to talk about my private life, but I'll answer this one time and one time only. Yes, we met in Phoenix at a Super Bowl party. QB2 left her alone in the club, and I offered to see her safely back to the hotel. I gave her my number just in case she needed anything and we parted ways." Joe shrugs and takes a quick swig from his water bottle as he continues. "She told me a little while later that she broke up with QB2 -- which she'd been wanting to do for a long time -- and was moving back home to finish her bachelor's degree." He takes another sip of water, dipping his agile tongue in the neck of the bottle in a fully sensual way before offering a cocky smirk. "One thing led to another and here we are."

A voice eventually cuts through the tense silence. "Some folks on social media are saying you stole QB2's girl. Is that a correct assessment?"

Joe levels an intimidating glare at the offending beat writer for several seconds before finally answering. "Stole his girl?" Joe rolls his eyes. "Women aren't possessions, you understand that right?"

"Y … yes, of course," the beat writer mutters, but …"

"That's all I have to say about it," Joe interrupts, flashing a 'don't try me' glance around the room. "Anybody wanna talk about football?"

And that was that. The rest of the presser focused on the upcoming bye week and what kind of adjustments the team would be making for the rest of the season.

"This is a disaster," you mumble, handing Joe his phone while shaking your head. "He's gonna freak out."

"He won't say shit."

"You don't know him like I do; he's super vindictive."

"Yep," Joe nods in agreement, "and he's also super image-conscious. He knows if he talks shit about you -- about us -- that I'll put him on blast."

"What do you mean?"

"I doubt if he wants the entire world to know how shitty he is. Let's count the reasons :

manipulated you into dropping out of college with only one semester left with the old "if you love me you'll do this for me" bullshit

threw a tantrum when you suggested finishing your degree online even though you only had four classes left

isolated you from friends and family

constantly negged you to make you think you couldn't do better than him

last but not least, treated you like a blow-up doll that existed merely for his pleasure; if word gets out that he only wanted head when he had access to this -- Joe slides a hand down to cup your crotch -- peeps will def be questioning his … uhhh … choices."

"He'll just say I'm bad in bed," you sigh.

"It'll be his word against mine. He won't risk it."

You shake your head. "You don't have to do that. I know you hate publicity."

"I wouldn't hate making him look like an ass, but believe me, he won't risk it." Joe leans down and gives you a quick kiss. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Okay," you mumble, your face giving away your negative thoughts.

"What are you thinking?"

"I just … I can't believe I let him have so much control over me for so long. I remember this one time I overheard him joking with a friend of his about girls with low self-esteem; he said they were the best girlfriends because they would accept less than bare minimum without any complaints. I should've left then, but of course he somehow made it all my fault when I confronted him about it. Can't believe I wasted so much time with him."

"You need to look at the silver lining."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember when my knee got blown out my rookie year in the NFL?"

"Yeah," you grimace. "That was awful."

"It seemed like a devastating setback at the time, but it eventually led to the Bengals having another really high draft pick which brought Ja'Marr to the team. If it wasn't for my knee injury, we wouldn't have Uno. If QB2 wasn't a raging shithead, you and I wouldn't be together. Silver lining. See?"

"You seriously need to be a motivational speaker."

"Maybe one of these days," he smiles.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A couple days later y'all fly to your hometown together. Your birthday coincided with the Bengals bye week, so your parents are throwing a big bash for friends and family.

Once y'all arrive at your parents' house, your mom and dad make small talk for a bit before your dad stands up and levels a no-nonsense gaze at Joe.

"Joe, I could use a hand stringing lights on the patio. Come put some of that obnoxious height to good use."

"Yes, sir," Joe laughs, hopping up off the sofa to follow your dad outside.

They're 2/3 off the way done stringing lights along the top of the covered patio when your dad shoots a quick glance at Joe before speaking. "Saw that press conference where you got ambushed about your relationship with Y/n. I thought you handled it really well."

"Thanks," Joe says. "I knew I'd have to answer that question eventually so I was ready for it."

"Y/n is worried QB2 might talk shit about y'all."

Joe shakes his head. "That's not gonna happen. I called him just after the press conference." Joe shrugs as he continues. "Decided to get out in front of it."

"How'd it go?"

"Good as can be expected. I told him it was his own damn fault that she left him, and if he ever says a bad word about her, I'll let the world know what a selfish, manipulative piece of shit he is."

Your dad nods his approval. "You think that'll get him to keep his mouth shut?"

"Well …" Joe flashes a cocky grin. "I might have also threatened to beat the dogshit out of him if he says anything soooo…"

"Soooo, yeah, he ain't saying a word," your dad chuckles.

"Exactly," Joe laughs.

Your dad shakes his head. "I always told Y/n that QB2 was soft as baby shit, but you … you're tough as nails." He slaps Joe on the back before turning serious. "Listen … when Y/n told us she was leaving shithead and moving back home, I was ecstatic. Then she told us she was seeing another pro baller, another damn quarterback at that." He grimaces before continuing. "Can't say I was happy to hear it, but it didn't take long to realize you're nothing like him. -- And I mean that in the best way possible."

"Thank you," Joe states. "You're right; I'm nothing like him." Joe takes a deep breath. " I haven't told Y/n I talked to him yet. She gets tense and sad when he's mentioned, and I didn't want to ruin her birthday party tonight. I intend to tell her tomorrow morning."

"Good idea." Your dad smiles as he continues. "Why don't we tell her together just after breakfast tomorrow? I mean, you're practically family so we'll have a little family meeting. How does that sound?"

"Sounds great," Joe states, the 'practically family' putting a smile on his face and echoing in his head for the rest of the day.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mid-December 2023

You'd slowly moved your things to Joe's house over the previous several weeks, making it easy to move in full time when your fall semester ends.

One of the first things y'all do as a cohabiting couple is decorate a Christmas tree, a blazing fire in the fireplace throwing cozy shadows on the walls as you laugh and sing Christmas carols off key.

The football schedule allows y'all to host Christmas in Cincinnati. It goes so well that both sets of parents are already asking for it to be a yearly tradition.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mid-February 2024

By the time football season ends, you're fully settled-in living with Joe. You receive your bachelor's degree diploma (with honors!) in the mail in mid-February, and Joe's parents insist on driving to Cincinnati to take you out for dinner to celebrate.

You look at your reflection in the large floor length mirror in your closet, smiling at the way your wrap dress hugs your curves. It took a while for Joe to uninstall all of the negative thoughts QB2 put in your head, but he did it. With his words -- and more importantly his actions -- he made you feel like the most amazing, desirable woman on the planet.

You grab a jacket and walk into the bathroom, giving Joe a slow up and down look as he tries to tame his unruly curls while wearing nothing but an exasperated expression. "Looking hot, babe," you say, giving his plump ass a squeeze while meeting his gaze in the mirror. "Not as hot as you," he grins, turning to give you a kiss before scowling at his reflection. "I give up," he grumbles, hurrying into the closet to get dressed.

A few minutes later you're sitting at the dining table waiting for Joe's parents to arrive when your phone chirps. You read the text from your best friend then send a quick reply.

"Who was that?" Joe asks, dropping into a chair beside you.

"Gina."

"How's she doing?"

You shrug. "That new guy she's dating is already pushing for a threesome, even though she made it clear she's not interested."

"Yikes," Joe mutters. "Time to drop his ass."

You search his face for a bit before averting your gaze, hoping he won't notice your mood shift.

"What is it?" he immediately asks, reading your body language with consummate ease.

"Nothing. I don't want to ruin tonight by talking about … him."

"You're not ruining anything, baby. Look at me." He waits for you to comply before continuing. "It's best to get stuff out in the open instead of stewing on it."

"QB2 constantly pushed for a threesome with another girl. When I refused he made me feel guilty."

"Oh, he wanted to disappoint two women at once, huh?"

"Apparently so," you chuckle, your tone turning serious as you continue. "He said ALL men want threesomes. Like, it's just part of their DNA."

Joe heaves a sigh while shaking his head. "A raging fuck boy using the 'ALL men' argument to try and manipulate a woman. Tale as old as time."

You search his face for a bit before responding. "So you don't want threesomes?"

"Nope. You give me all I can handle. Don't want anything else. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes, sir," you purr, grinning when he hits you with a feral look.

"You trying to rile me up?"

"Maybe," you shrug, biting your lip and hiking your skirt up to show some extra thigh. "Too bad your parents are about to be here," you tease.

"I'm gonna give you ten seconds."

You raise an eyebrow. "Ten seconds? For what?"

"A head start." You furrow your brow as he continues, your pulse picking up at the shift in his demeanor. He leans close and nestles his lips against your ear, his hot breath sending a sizzle of heat down your spine. "Listen, unless you want me to bend you over this table and fuck you right here then you better get a move on."

You squirm in your chair as you flick a nervous glance at your watch. "Your parents are gonna be here in like 20 minutes!"

"Yep. Like I said, you better get a move on." He slowly licks his lips. "One."

"You're kidding, right?" you squeak, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the look on his face.

"Two."

Your mouth drops open for a second, the reality of the situation making you lightheaded with arousal.

"Three."

"Holy shit," you whisper, quickly standing up and taking a couple steps toward the stairs.

"Four."

You snatch your high heels off and sprint for the stairs.

"Five."

You're 2/3 of the way up when you hear him behind you, his long legs closing the distance at an alarming pace.

"Six."

You reach the top of the stairs and hit the jets as you fly down the hallway toward the master bedroom, an excited squeal escaping your lips as he catches you from behind just as you make it to the doorway.

"Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten."

You toss the shoes you're still holding as he picks you up and carries you to the bed, dropping you face down and covering your body with his much larger frame.

"Don't mess up my hair and make-up, you big brute!" you laugh, squirming underneath him, making sure to grind your ass against his crotch. "I don't have time to redo them."

"Yes, ma'am," he purrs, sliding your panties off. "Get on your knees for me," he orders, making a noise deep in his throat when you get on all fours. He pushes your skirt up to your waist and you feel his breath on your core for several seconds before he grabs two handfuls of ass and spreads you open, his tongue licking a long stripe from your clit to your ass.

"Oh god," you whimper, dropping your forehead down against the mattress as he continues to devour your most sensitive flesh, plunging his tongue deep inside you for several heartbeats before pulling back to tease you with delicate licks and sucks. "I'm so close," you moan, every nerve ending in your body standing at attention when he quickly stands up and pushes his pants and underwear to mid-thigh. "Please," you beg, arching your back and gasping in pleasure when he runs the tip of his hard cock through your slick folds. "Need you inside me," you whisper, screaming against the mattress as he plunges deep inside, your core spasming at the delicious intrusion for several seconds while he holds himself completely still.

The noise you make when he starts to thrust is a little embarrassing for about two seconds before you lose yourself in the feel of his thick cock moving inside you. "Fuck me hard, daddy," you whine, throwing your ass back against him as he follows orders and sets a punishing pace.

The sound of your flesh slapping together provides a filthy backbeat for the praise spilling from Joe's lips; it's not long before you're close to the edge. "I'm close," you whimper, "don't stop!" Joe reaches a hand around to play with your clit, teasing you for a bit before giving you the perfect amount of pressure to pull the trigger. You moan his name as your climax hits; his pace picks up as he fucks you through your orgasm, his own climax hitting just as your knees collapse. He easily holds you up as he empties inside you, easing you down onto the bed when your spasming core has wrung him dry, still whispering praise as you both gasp for breath.

Joe eventually eases out of you, dropping a kiss on your cheek before walking into the bathroom; you hear water running for a couple minutes before feeling a warm, damp cloth between your legs. "Thanks," you sigh, immediately leaping off the bed when the doorbell rings. "They're here!" you hiss.

"Relax, babe," he soothes, giving you a smile while handing you your panties. "I'll entertain 'em while you freshen up."

"Thanks," you whisper, watching as he walks out of the room. You take a deep breath before heading toward the bathroom, stopping in your tracks when you notice that Joe has gathered up your shoes and neatly placed them just beside the door. Something about that thoughtful gesture almost makes you cry. You've been together for a year, but you're still blown away every time he does something like this. "Maybe one of these days I'll get used to it," you mutter, hurrying into the bathroom.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Summer 2025 (party at y'alls house in Cincinnati to celebrate the completion of your MBA)

You look around the backyard, at all of your friends and family mingling together -- eating, drinking, and laughing -- enjoying a beautiful night and a beautiful party hosted by your beautiful man.

He gave a brief speech earlier in the evening, saying how proud he was of you. By now you're used to him showering you with praise, but it still takes your breath away every time.

You turn your head looking for him, a thrill shooting through you when your gaze lands on him and he's looking right at you. You feel a blush rise in your cheeks. Will I ever get used to him looking at me like that? you think to yourself, biting your lip as he walks toward you.

"Hey," he smiles, resting a big hand on the small of your back.

"Hey," you return his smile. "You throw an amazing party, babe."

"I had plenty of help," he mutters, looking a little bashful in a way that makes you want to climb him like a tree. "Why are you over here by yourself?" he asks. You shrug and look down at your feet, swallowing hard when he places a finger under your chin to tilt your head back up. "What is it?"

"Nothing," you whisper, trying to keep a neutral expression. Don't fuck this up! you think to yourself.

He grabs your hand and pulls you farther into the shadows at the edge of the yard, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "I know that look, okay? That's not a 'nothing' look. Tell me what's wrong."

"It's stupid."

"Tell me."

You heave a sigh. "I wish you were my first instead of him," you mutter. "You deserved it."

He lets out the nervous breath he was holding, running a hand through his tousled curls before capturing your gaze. "Honey … listen … I wasn't your first, but I intend to be your last. That's way better, don't you think?" You smile as he continues. "When we're old farts, I'm still gonna be sneaking kisses with you and grossing our grandkids out."

"Promise?" you ask.

"I promise." He leans down and presses a kiss on your lips, sliding his tongue inside just long enough to make you want more before pulling back. "Ready to make the big announcement?"

"I'm ready."

"Good. Go grab what you need and I'll have the waiters pass out the Champagne."

"Yes, sir," you drawl, putting as much implied sex as possible into those two syllables. He slowly raises one impeccable eyebrow and gives you a look that goes straight to your core. "Hold that thought, daddy," you breathe, shying away as he makes a playful grab for you. "Damn right I will," he growls, his naughty laughter sending a sizzle of heat through you as you turn and head toward the house.

A few minutes later you're upstairs looking down into the backyard, at the twinkling lights and the waiters with trays of Champagne flutes weaving their way through the crowd. You smile when you see Joe and your dad talking, both wearing big grins. The fact that the two most important men in your life really like and respect each other feels like a dream sometimes. "My entire life feels like a dream," you whisper, thinking back to the week before.

You and Joe had spent the night in his basement bedroom at his parents' house in Athens, sleeping off all of the delicious food and adult beverages you'd consumed during a backyard BBQ. The next morning y'all had a quick breakfast then hit the road back to Cincinnati, taking a detour to his old high school football stadium.

You smile and close your eyes as you immerse yourself in the memory:

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"C'mon," he says, hopping out of the car and grabbing your hand while walking toward a locked entrance gate. "I wanna go out on the field for a bit." You give him a skeptical look. "No way I'm climbing that fence, Burrow." He gives you a cheeky grin before pulling a key out of his pocket. "Of course you have a key," you laugh. "The damn stadium is named after you."

He unlocks the padlock and opens the gate, grabbing your hand again as y'all walk out onto the field. "So this is where the legend of Joe Shiesty was born," you tease, giving him a smile as he leads you to midfield. You notice the look on his face is serious. "You okay, babe?" you whisper. "Yeah," he answers, turning the full force of his icy-blue gaze on you. "Never better."

"Good." You try to read his expression, wondering why he seems … nervous? Before you can contemplate it, he licks his lips and takes a deep breath before speaking.

"Of all the amazing memories I have in this stadium, I hope you're about to give me the best one of all." Your mouth drops open as he quickly reaches in his shorts pocket before dropping down on one knee. He flicks the black velvet box open and holds it out to you, your eyes going wide at the beautiful diamond as he clears his throat before continuing. "Y/n, will you marry me?"

You've never said yes to something so fast in your life; before you know it, you're wearing the gorgeous ring and hugging the gorgeous man who slipped it on your finger, delighted laughter spilling from your lips as he picks you up and spins you around.

After several minutes of kissing and hugging, you feel something cold and wet hit the back of your leg. Joe notices you jump when it happens again. "What is it?" he asks, his eyes going wide when he realizes the dilemma. "Oh shit, it's the sprinklers," he groans. "Run!"

You're almost crying with laughter as y'all finally make it back to the track that surrounds the field.

"Those damn things didn't use to come on this early," he gripes, giving you a bemused look as you try to get your laughter under control. "Not the most romantic proposal, I guess," he grimaces.

"Are you kidding me?" you wheeze, gulping in deep breaths. "That was the most romantic proposal ever!"

"Was not," he grumbles.

"Was too," you argue, sticking your tongue out at him then gasping when he quickly leans down and sucks it into his mouth. He gives you a very thorough kiss before finally leaning back. "Did you get wet?" he asks. You raise an eyebrow and give him a filthy grin. "I meant did the sprinklers get you wet, you perv," he chuckles. "Oh … yeah," you laugh. "Just a little on my legs." He squats down and runs his big hands over your bare legs. "Better?" he asks, wiping his damp hands on his slinky shorts. "Yeah, thanks," you mutter, holding your hand up to admire your ring. "How did you know the exact ring I wanted?"

"I asked your mom and your best friend. They both agreed."

"I can't believe they didn't tell me."

"I asked them not to. I really wanted it to be a surprise. Don't be mad at them, okay?"

"I'm not mad." You hold your hand up and wag the impressive diamond at him. "I mean, look at this. It's perfect."

"You're perfect," he states.

"No I'm not," you argue, your old self-esteem issues bubbling to the surface for a second. "Nobody's perfect."

He gives you a smile before leaning down to press his lips against your ear. "You're perfect for me," he clarifies, giving your earlobe a nip before stepping back. "Can't argue with that," he winks, grabbing your hand and heading for the car. "C'mon. I've got something else to show you."

Y'all get back in the car and drive for about fifteen minutes, eventually turning onto a narrow dirt road that's flanked on both sides by what looks like knee-deep weeds. "Where are we?" you ask, your eyes going wide as Joe stops the car and hops out. "It's some land a friend of mine owns," Joe answers, grabbing a duffle bag out of the trunk before ushering you toward the weeds. "Trust me," he says. "It'll look better in a minute."

You follow behind him as he strides ahead. "That bag looks heavy," you muse. "Nah, it's not bad," he says. "By the way, you don't have to worry about cowshit out here, but watch your step just in case there's some deer droppings."

"How romantic," you giggle, laughing even harder when he throws you a look over his shoulder.

"Give it time, woman. This is about to be romantic as hell."

"I'm just teasing," you laugh. "Having Joe Burrow propose to me in Joe Burrow Stadium was the most romantic thing ever. Anything else is just icing on the cake."

He stops so abruptly you almost crash into him. "Did you really like it?" he asks, turning to face you with a sweet smile on his face. "I loved it," you sigh, cradling a hand behind his neck to pull him down for a kiss; he leans into the kiss for several heartbeats before spinning around to continue the journey through the weeds. "We're almost there," he says. "It's just over this hill."

When you crest the hill your breath catches in your throat as you take in the vast array of wildflowers. "Oh my gosh," you breathe. "It's beautiful!"

"Told ya," he laughs, walking until he finds a small clearing in the wildflowers. He drops the duffle bag on the ground and unzips it before pulling a large blanket out. You help him spread it out, placing your shoes on two corners to weigh it down while he does the same. You drop down and sit cross-legged while he pulls more items from the bag: a small serving tray, two Champagne flutes, a few napkins and a small cooler. He smiles as he sits down beside you, dropping a quick kiss on your lips before opening the cooler to pull out a bottle of Champagne.

"Niiice," you purr, your gaze glued to his sinewy forearms and sensual hands as he easily uncorks the bottle. "Have I ever told you that you have the sexiest arms and hands I've ever seen?"

"Yep," he pours a glass of bubbly and hands it to you, accompanying it with a naughty wink. "Several of my body parts are 'the sexiest' according to you." He shrugs as he pours a second glass. "It evens out though since you're the sexiest woman I've ever seen."

"Am not," you snort, giving a bratty eyeroll.

"Am too," he states. "And I get to spend the rest of my life proving it to you. Lucky me." He holds his flute up. "To us."

"To us," you echo, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip.

"I got a little something else in my bag of tricks," he teases, pulling a box out and popping the lid off to reveal several chocolate-covered strawberries. "My favs!" you grin, opening your mouth to let him feed you one of the plump confections. "Your turn," you whisper, returning the favor before taking another hearty sip of your fizzy beverage. "This is amazing," you say, feeding Joe another strawberry before gesturing at your surroundings. "Champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries in a field of wildflowers? Super romantic."

"Glad you like it." He feeds you another berry, his eyes going dark with arousal when you suck melted chocolate off his finger.

You're just about to pounce on him when he reaches back into the bag. "I've got one more thing to give you," he mutters, digging around in the bag for a bit before handing you a small envelope. You open it and pull out a … hotel key card. "What's this?" you ask, flipping the card over, your eyes going wide when you realize he's written something in permanent marker. "February 11, 2023," you read out loud. "Phoenix, Arizona."

"It's the key card from my hotel suite in Phoenix. Where it all started for us." You try to draw air into your lungs as he continues. "I knew I'd never forget you, and I wanted to have a reminder of that night. I didn't dare dream that one day I'd have a much better reminder." He leans forward and wipes the tears as they spill down your cheeks. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"They're happy tears," you whisper, crawling into his lap, burying your face in his fragrant neck while he holds you tight as you cry. "I love you," he states. "Love you, too," you sniff.

You eventually pull back, smiling when he hands you a napkin. "Thanks," you sigh, wiping your eyes and nose while shaking your head. "I'll never understand how I got so lucky, but from this day forward I'm gonna stop questioning it."

"Good." Joe hands you your glass before grabbing his. "Here's to gettin' lucky," he states, laughing along with you as y'all clink glasses and take long sips of the cool bubbly. "Seriously though," you giggle, "sometimes I feel like I need to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming."

"Let me help you with that," he murmurs, sliding a hand under the hem of your cutoff shorts to pinch your butt. "Ow!" you yell dramatically, falling over on the blanket before pulling him down on top of you. He looks into your eyes for several heartbeats before capturing your lips in a slow-burn kiss, nipping and teasing before finally plunging his tongue inside, making a sound low in his throat when you arch up against him.

He eventually eases your shirt off followed by your bra; his tongue is cool from the Champagne as he pulls a hardened peak into his mouth, smiling against your sensitive skin when you moan his name. He sucks your nipples so good you can feel it between your legs. You bury a hand in his curls and murmur praise as he continues to tease you, taking his time before kissing a trail down your torso.

He quickly strips naked before sliding your cutoff denim shorts and panties off, giving you a loaded look before settling between your legs, his broad shoulders spreading you wide as he presses wet kisses up your inner thighs. He teases you for several minutes, pressing kisses everywhere but your aching core as you bite your full bottom lip and watch the cotton candy clouds dance by overhead. "Please," you beg, gasping when he finally puts his tongue right where you want it. You arch up against him, pulling his hair and grinding your hips as he works delicious magic with his tongue and fingers, edging you over and over, reading your body language like he's got a damn cheat code.

"Please," you say again several minutes later, your voice raspy from the whimpers and the low-throated moans he's expertly pulled from you. "Finish me, daddy," you whine, fisting your hand in his curls as he follows orders, massaging your sweet spot and fluttering his tongue over your clit as your climax hits; he makes an absolutely feral noise deep in his throat when he causes you to squirt, your entire body shaking at the intensity of the orgasm, a flock of birds taking flight when a scream of pure pleasure spills from your lips.

He eventually rises up on his knees and looks down at you, his eyes heavy with arousal, his lips and chin wet with your juices. He swipes a finger through your essence before sucking it, smiling when you push up onto an elbow and grab your half-full Champagne flute, taking a sip before handing it to him. He takes a sip and then another, holding the cool fizz in his mouth while leaning down, making that same low-throated growl when you part your lips as you read his intention. Your pulse reacts as he slowly feeds you the bubbles; you swallow his offering, sucking his cool tongue into your mouth just as he slides his cock deep inside you. He stares into your eyes as he starts to thrust, the intense intimacy of the moment taking your breath away …

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A loud burst of laughter snaps you back to the present. You take a deep breath and look down into the backyard, smiling when you see Joe holding a wireless mic. "He is SO ready to make this announcement," you giggle to yourself.

It was his idea to announce the engagement at the 'Yay! MBA!' party he was throwing for you, and you immediately agreed, teasing him about having a flair for the dramatic. "My dream woman agreed to marry me. I'm allowed to be dramatic about it, okay?" he'd laughed. "I promise I'll go back to being my usual boring self afterwards." Keeping the engagement secret for a week had been hard, both of you practically bubbling with excitement to share the news.

Another burst of laughter makes you focus on the task at hand; you quickly walk to your jewelry box and grab your engagement ring, slipping it on before heading back down to join the party.

Several minutes later a loud cheer erupts from your party guests as Joe makes the announcement, his arm tight around your waist, the huge smile on his face matching yours as he looks down at you, giving you a quick kiss before y'all are mobbed by the crowd.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Spring 2026

You take a deep breath as you walk down the aisle, your mom holding one of your arms and your dad holding the other, Joe waiting at the end like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. You lock eyes with him as you continue walking, relishing the way his gaze rakes over you in your curve-hugging wedding dress, making you feel like the goddess he always says you are.

Once you reach him, your parents fade into the background and the next several minutes feel like an out-of-body experience as you exchange vows and rings, making promises out loud in public that you'd already whispered to each other in private so many times.

Before you know it, the officiant is telling Joe to kiss his bride. To the delight of everyone present -- including you -- the first kiss you share as husband and wife is a real doozy, with Joe putting his PDA-shyness away for several heartbeats to give you a very thorough kiss before you turn and face the world as newlyweds.

"You ready for this?" he whispers.

"So ready," you answer, your heart melting at the look in his eyes as y'all walk back down the aisle with all of your friends and family cheering and clapping. He instinctively shortens his much-longer strides to match yours in a way that seems symbolic of your entire relationship; him always ready to rush ahead but also willing to wait for you to catch up, to be on equal footing.

You give him a lingering glance as you walk out into the gathering dusk, the sky shot through with coral and purple, fireflies twinkling in the air as he turns to face you. You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, rushing ahead in a way you'll never get tired of. "I love you," he breathes, leaning down to capture your lips but waiting … waiting patiently for your response. "I love you, too," you whisper, your heart soaring as his lips finally crash down on yours.

[mofffun]

AnimateTimes movie interviews [❤💙💛]

Rita x Kaguragi x Jeramie (July 30)

highlights of the movie + guest cast

Change in Taisei

Rita's burden and with Morfonia / ep10, 16

Kaguragi with Racules and Suzume

Your character in summer

individual pics + translation under cut

Adventure Heaven is finally opening on July 28!

Hirakawa: In this movie you will meet a new side of Rita never before seen. Filming the movie is a fresh experience for me from start to finish.

Kaku: We will touch on Kaguragi's past in the movie. It will be very important for him in the future.

Ikeda: The coronation scene we shot with a crowd of extras. It is our biggest and grandest scene yet.

The guest cast including Ms. Sakura Ayane as Debonica is impressive too.

Ikeda: Ms. Sakura has a distinctive method of vocalization. When the two of us talked in private and she said "Royal Arms", I was stunned.

Is Ms. Sakura's "Royal Arms" cool?

Ikeda: It's very powerful, very cool indeed.

Kaku: As a king, you have to be cool.

Hirakawa: I didn’t get to meet all of the guest cast in person, but Mr. Nakamura Shido (Rainoir) has a solemn and powerful presence just from being. He brought on set a positive tension that alerted everybody "the movie is about to start!".

In the movie, Gira finally becomes King of Shugoddom. Has the star behind Gira, Mr. Sakai Taisei changed in any way?

Kaku: He's getting less nervous in public appearances. He'll still say "I'm so nervous!" even now, but he's getting better at relaxing into the role and just enjoy the show.

Hirakawa: The Taisei I saw is the one who's super nervous during filming.

Kaku: In the scene with Rainoir? 

Hirakawa: Yes! His lips turned purple (laughs). "It's method acting for the Land of Death!" he said, but I think he's just nervous. Recently, he seems to have accepted his role as the cute mascot.

Ikeda: Since I only joined the cast later as the sixth ranger, I haven’t seen his nervous era. But I see where you're coming from about him turning cute.

Hirakawa: When we used to call him cute, he'd say "There's no such thing!", now he just nods, "Um..."  (laughs)

Everyone: (laughs)

Ikeda: He might be somewhat happy to hear that.

Please tell us more about the main series as well. In Episode 16, Rita's past is revealed.

Hirakawa: I think through Episode 16, the audience can now feel Rita’s burden. Revisiting the past, we reaffirm Rita's resolve and sense of responsibility, as well as pushing forward in the mystery that is Fury of the Gods. This development will impact the TV series going forward.

How do you see the relationship between Rita and Morfonia?

In Episode 10, we saw a change in the relationship between each king and their aide. Rita also got somewhat closer emotionally with Morfonia. I believe the guard around Rita’s strained psyche has lowered a little. They won't have a heart-to-heart conversation just yet, but the distance between them has been shortening since. In real life, we are becoming closer friends as well, that will sure be a positive influence to our interaction in the story.

On the other hand, Kaguragi has a lot of mature bargaining that hide his true intentions with characters like Racules and his younger sister Suzume.

Kaku: It is fun to bargain with Racules. Yano-chan put his predictions of the future in his performance, I too kept that in mind and considered many aspects in my own. Suzume is both cute and a strategist, I find her duality interesting.

What if your character goes on a summer break?

Ikeda: Jeramie would sleep through it, wouldn't he? "What I thought was an afternoon nap, took a whole year. Happens to anybody." He did say that once... When he wakes up, it'd probably be winter. (laughs)

Everyone: (laughs)

Kaku: Kaguragi is a festival man. He'd for sure host a big summer festival in Toufu.

Hirakawa: Rita would just marathon "Together with Moffun", wouldn't they?

Kaku: Absolutely! Rita would rewatch every episode up to now.

Hirakawa: There are 4000 episodes, it'd be a miracle to finish it before the end of summer (laughs).

(laughs) Moffun is not slowing down with his merchandise release either.

Hirakawa: It's amazing, isn't it! Without a word you grew interested in its shape and voice. It's just that Rita's imitation is a little different though...

I think Rita's imitation of Moffun is adorable! At the end, please tell our readers the highlights of the movie.

Hirakawa: Surely it's being able to see a new side of Rita different from the one we know so far. Even the details in the background carries meaning, I would love for you to see it on the big screen, and two or three times if you can!

Kaku: The movie is presenting a whole new world, with imagery much grander than the ones in the TV series. The characters will face their pasts, and the audience can learn more about them as people. This is the part I find myself enjoying.

Ikeda: In a trip to the Land of Death, there is much to think about on each of the king's attitude and way of life. It adds another layer to the world of King-Ohger too. Please look forward to the movie.

Thank you very much!

映画『王様戦隊キングオージャー アドベンチャー・ヘブン』 平川結月さん×佳久創さん×池田匡志さんインタビュー｜リタの新たな一面とカグラギの過去――���の国で王たちが向き合う因縁とは？

2023年7月28日より公開中の映画『王様戦隊キングオージャー アドベンチャー・ヘブン』（映画『仮面ライダーギーツ 4人のエースと黒狐』と同時上映）。

シュゴッダムで始まろうとしていたギラの戴冠式。ヤンマ、ヒメノ、リタ、カグラギら各国の王が一堂に会し、新国王誕生の瞬間を迎えようとしたとき、“死の国=ハーカバーカ”の案内人・デボニカが現れ……。ジェラミーも加わり、ギラたち6人が未知の世界で大冒険を繰り広げます！　

アニメイトタイムズでは、シュゴッダム新国王の即位と映画公開を記念して、キャスト6人へのインタビューを2回にわたってお届け！　

本稿では、リタ・カニスカ／パピヨンオージャー役の平川結月さん、カグラギ・ディボウスキ／ハチオージャー役の佳久創さん、ジェラミー・ブラシエリ／スパイダークモノス役の池田匡志さんにお話を伺いました。

中村獅童さんから威厳と強さを感じた

――映画『王様戦隊キングオージャー アドベンチャー・ヘブン』がいよいよ7月28日から公開されます。

リタ・カニスカ／パピヨンオージャー役 平川結月さん（以下、平川）：今回のリタは今までにない新たな一面を見せるので、映画の撮影は最初から最後まで新鮮でした。

カグラギ・ディボウスキ／ハチオージャー役 佳久創さん（以下、佳久）：映画では、カグラギの過去に触れるシーンもあります。今後の彼にとっても重要な話になりそうです。

ジェラミー・ブラシエリ／スパイダークモノス役 池田匡志さん（以下、池田）：エキストラの方々と一緒に撮影した戴冠式は、これまで以上に華やかで壮大なシーンになりました。

――デボニカ役・佐倉綾音さんをはじめとしたゲストキャストの方々も非常に豪華です。

池田：佐倉さんは、声の響き方が全然違いました。2人でお話したとき「王鎧武装」を実際に言っていただいて痺れました。

――佐倉さんの「王鎧武装」は格好良い雰囲気なんですか？

池田：迫力がすごくて、とても格好良かったです。

佳久：王様たちはクールに決めるからね。

平川：私は直接お会いしていない方もいるのですが、ライニオール役の中村獅童さんからは、そこにいるだけで威厳と強さが感じられました。現場が引き締まり「映画が始まるぞ！」という良い意味での緊張感が生まれていたと思います。

――映画ではついにギラがシュゴッダムの王になります。撮影開始からギラを演じる酒井大成さんの変化や成長を感じることはありますか？

佳久：公の場で緊張しなくなってきていますね。本人は今でも「緊張する」と言っていますけど、徐々に楽しめる余裕が出てきたんじゃないでしょうか。

平川：私は映画の撮影でド緊張している大成を見ちゃったけど（笑）。

佳久：ライニオールとのシーン？　　

平川：そう！　唇が紫だった（笑）。「死の国だから役づくり！」と言っていたけど、普通に緊張していたと思います。彼は最近、可愛いキャラを受け入れてきているんですよ。

池田：僕は追加戦士で途中から参加したので緊張している時期を見たことがないんですけど、可愛くなったのはとてもわかります。

平川：以前は可愛いと言うと「そんなことないよ！」と言っていたけど、今は「うーん……」って（笑）。

一同：（笑）

池田：どこか嬉しそうだよね。

P2

夏休み中のリタは「もっふんといっしょ」を一気見する!?

――TVシリーズについても聞かせてください。第16話「10才の裁判長」では、リタの過去が明かされました。

平川：リタが抱えているものを、観ている方にも感じていただける内容だったと思います。過去を通じてリタの覚悟や責任感を再確認しましたし、大きな謎である「神の怒り」についても進展があったので、今後のTVシリーズに影響していきそうだなと思います。

――リタと側近であるモルフォーニャの関係性についてはどう見ていますか？

平川：第10話「伝説の守護神」で、各国の王と側近の関係性が変化するシーンがありました。モルフォーニャとも心の距離が若干縮まり、リタが張っていた心のバリアが少し減ったんじゃないでしょうか。話し合ったわけではないのですが、自然に距離感が近づいていると思います。リアルでも仲が深まっているので、作中の掛け合いにも良い影響が出ているはずです。　　

―― 一方でカグラギは、ラクレスや妹のスズメと本音を隠した大人な駆け引きが多いですね。

佳久：ラクレスとのやり取りは楽しいです。矢野ちゃん（ラクレス・ハスティー役・矢野聖人さん）も今後の展開を予想しながら演じていて、僕もそれを受けて色々考えながら演じています。スズメは可愛らしさと策略家の顔があって、その二面性がとても面白いと思っています。

――TVシリーズの今後も非常に楽しみです！　ちなみに、もし自身が演じるキャラクターに夏休みがあったらどのように過ごしていると思いますか？

池田：ジェラミーは寝ているのではないでしょうか。「昼寝のつもりが1年経ってたなんて、ザラさ」と言っていたので……。多分起きる頃には、冬になっていると思います（笑）

一同：（笑）

佳久：カグラギはお祭り男だと思うので、トウフで盛大な祭りを開催しそうです。

平川：リタは「もっふんといっしょ」を一気見するのではないでしょうか。

佳久：確かに！　これまでの話をおさらいしてそうだね。

平川：4000話もあるから、夏休みで観終わるかは怪しいですが（笑）。

――（笑）。もっふんはアニメやグッズの展開も盛り上がっています。

平川：すごいですよね！　何とも言えないフォルムと声がお気に入りです。リタが真似しているのは少し違うのですが……。

――リタが真似するもっふんも可愛いと思います！　最後に公開を楽しみにしている読者に向けて、映画の見どころを教えてください。

平川：やはりこれまで見せていなかったリタの新たな側面を楽しみにしていただきたいです。背景の細かい部分まで意味が込められていて、大きなスクリーンで観たら、吸い込まれそうになるくらい物語に入り込めると思います。時間に余裕があれば、2回、3回と観てほしいです！

佳久：映画では全く新しい世界が登場して、TVシリーズ以上の壮大な映像が見られます。キャラクターが過去の因縁に向き合うシーンは、それぞれの深掘りにもなっているので、個人的にも観るのが楽しみです。

池田：死の国へ行くことで王様たちの在り方や生きる意味など、色々考えさせられることがあると思います。『王様戦隊キングオージャー』の世界をより一層楽しめるので、ぜひご覧ください！

――ありがとうございました！

[anticmiscellaney]

no pressure to answer and im sorry if you've said this before but where did the title new/old/rare come from?

It's named after a very average record label compilation that I bought way back in 2002 because it included a song I couldn't get anywhere else by a band I used to go see all the time. I always liked the title and it seemed appropriate for this project for a range of thematic reasons, but also Blueline Medic came from a band called Caustic Soda, who wrote a song called Photocopied, which was the first song I successfully turned into visual artwork, and I discovered Jawbreaker from the sticker on the bass guitar when I saw that video on Rage one night as a teenager, and then when I finally saw Jawbreaker in April 2022 I came home and wrote this comic about Louis seeing them in March 1996, which led to me figuring out the overall story of what had up until then just been a series of loosely connected drawings.

Before everything was available on the internet, releases being old or rare often meant you couldn't get them, you might not ever hear/see them, and new releases may take months or even years to become available to you. Part of being into film and music was searching, archiving, collecting, sharing, bootlegging, waiting, and speculating. These days I likely wouldn't have to buy a whole CD just to hear one song. Smalltime local band singles are available on Bandcamp, not just at their shows. Archives of old or niche films are often hosted on streaming sites, or even lovingly restored and rereleased. This is all cool and I enjoy it, but it's new. Please remember that it's new, that in my relatively short lifetime it has changed hugely.

People have always cared and now it's so much easier to share these things, but there's still value in things being tied to times and places, in parts of life being ephemeral and transitory. I think you need external markers of times in your life that you can revisit or avoid as you choose, otherwise you'll end up adrift. Something being rare or limited isn't always bad; of course we don't get to experience everything we'd like to and it's important to pursue and value what you can. I pursued live music single-mindedly from when I was 12 or 13 until I moved overseas at 19, and while I've never stopped going to see bands or being very into music, that particular time of my life was unique. I can't replicate it and I don't want to because as much as I joke I've not changed (and wear band t-shirts I bought in 2001), I'm not the same person. I still remember though.

This story is partly about the balance between digging through the past and making space in your life for new things, about handling change and choosing what to let go, what to archive, what to keep, what to keep looking for. It's also literally about music and film.

Most of the places I used to go are gone now of course, and most of the bands have broken up and moved on. I'm gone too, I live on the other side of the world, but I like to put references in my work. I guess it's my way of saying this happened and it was important to me, these things other people made, those places, that time, they were small and brief but they mattered and I remember. Some things don't come back and all you have is memories of them, but sometimes bands who broke up in 1990 do a reunion show and you score a ticket.

Don't count on it though. Enjoy what you can when you have it, and if you miss it, don't dwell too much. Looking for the next thing to be excited and intrigued by is the best way to find it.

In the comic linked above, when Neil says they'll have a chance to see Jawbreaker together soon, he's wrong: Jawbreaker broke up a few months later and didn't play again until 2017. I think they would have gone together then though, I think they both remembered.