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gloomwitchwrites · 6 months ago

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Greener Things

Din Djarin x Mandalorian Female Reader (Clan Kryze)

Content & Warnings: canon-typical swearing, canon-typical violence, mutual pining, admission of feelings, search and rescue, mando’a language, Mandalorian culture & customs, fluff, light angst

Word Count: 3k

It isn’t until the woman he loves is in danger that Din realizes he’s wanted her all along.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // spring 2024 masterlist

Din observes the round fruit.

It does not hang from a tree or dwell within a bush. This one grows on a vine. The fuzzy stalk swirls over and around metal trellises. The fruit is a deep blue so dark it almost resembles space, but in the right light, it shines.

“It’s for fermentation.”

Your voice is soft, and yet Din cannot help but react as if you’ve commanded something of him. He promptly rises, turning in the direction of your voice. You flush with embarrassment as if you’ve walked in on him without his helmet. Arms tightening around the basket you’re holding; you bring it out in front of you like a shield.

Within the woven threads, Din glimpses the same dark fruit.

“Is it native to Mandalore?” asks Din, because questions keep him here. It gives him an excuse to stay a bit longer.

That is Din’s habit, and he is not all that interested in shaking it. The Growing Caverns are an extension of what they’re building here on Mandalore. Not only is the air breathable, but things are growing again. Din witnessed it on his second visit, when the stranded Mandalorians showed them all that they had done after the Night of a Thousand Tears.

Now, it’s a system. An effort to feed the ever-growing enclave.

You are but a small piece of that. A nurturer. Someone bringing life to the plants to sustain everyone else.

“No. It’s not native to Mandalore,” you answer, stepping closer to Din. He instinctually matches your movement. “This fruit is found on Kalevala.”

Your lips look so soft. Inviting. But it’s not like Din can kiss you. He cannot remove his helmet. Yet he can think about it. Even now, his thoughts meander outward, imagining what those lips might feel like against his lips. How they might feel against his skin.

“It likes the rolling hills and cliffs.”

“What likes the rolling hills?” asks Din absently, still focused on your lips.

“The plant,” you laugh, indicating the fruit with a nod of your head.

Din inclines his head because he doesn’t trust himself to speak. He was too kriffing focused on your lips that he wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying.

Your smile remains and it is such a sweet thing to Din.

He wants to capture it. Bottle it. Keep it with him always.

This whole interaction is indulgent. There is no reason for Din to be here, but he cannot seem to stay away. That first day, after Mandalore was reclaimed, Din planned on leaving with Grogu. But you appeared with that sweet smile, asking him for assistance, and Din answered without a second thought.

Now, he’s here, remaining on Mandalore, making excuses every day just to come see you.

Din glances around the large cavern. There are raised boxes with all sorts of plants growing from them. Others dangle from pots hanging from the cavern’s ceiling while others are bolted into the walls. Something is always different when Din visits.

All Din knows how to do is fight. And here you are, knowing how to fight too, yet using your skills to feed your people instead. It’s vastly different from how he was raised, and what he’s come to understand.

Things are changing for him.

Din clears his throat. Every day he comes, and every day he says the same thing.

“Things look good here,” he comments.

Your smile shifts to a knowing smirk, and Din is thankful you cannot see his face behind his helmet. Even with the insulation, Din is sweating.

“They are,” you agree, shifting closer to him.

Again, Din matches your movements, the two of you nearly on top of each other. Over the last few weeks, you’ve done this more and more. Leaning in, standing close to him, giving him all your attention. However, you never touch him, but Din wishes that you did, even if it’s just a passing touch.

But whatever Din feels in his heart, you are not of his tribe. You are of Clan Kryze. You walk the Way differently from him. You do not always wear your helmet. While Din accepts that both Ways are true, your path doesn’t completely align with his.

While he enjoys your company, and adores your smile, Din cannot act. Everything he feels must be buried deep. Hidden. There are some things that cannot be even if Din wishes they were so.

You shift toward him again and sigh, bringing the basket to rest against your hip. You suddenly appear tired, and Din hates that.

“Why do you come here every day, Din?”

To see you. To see your smile. To hear your voice.

How does he begin to answer that?

What answer will be acceptable to you?

Does he tell you of how his stomach flips when you say his name, or how his heart races the moment you recognize him across the room?

“It’s peaceful,” decides Din because it’s partially true. “I like it here.”

Your smile returns but it’s not as bright as before. Are you disappointed in that answer? Maybe. Din hopes that he hasn’t brushed you aside with his response.

“Will you stay on Mandalore?” you ask, and that gives Din pause. “I heard that you might leave us soon.”

Din has not been open about leaving Mandalore and returning to Nevarro. It’s possible that Bo-Katan might have said something in passing.

It’s best to be honest.

“I’ve thought about it,” he replies slowly.

You nod, your smile fading a bit. “I’d miss your daily visits if you left.”

Kriffing hell, Din isn’t strong enough to resist. The truth comes rolling out of him automatically. It’s a tug. A sharp pull. A snapping of string that cannot be undone.

“I would miss them too.”

It’s the right answer, and saying so soothes something within him. That sweet smile of yours returns, and Din has to dig down into every fiber of his control not to reach out and touch you.

Din clears his throat, suddenly nervous. “Let me help with that.” He nods toward the basket of fruit, arms extended.

You give it to him without resistance, and Din takes pride that he can at least do this one thing for you. Stepping to the side, Din allows you to lead the way, the two of you exiting the cavern to head toward the Great Forge. The passage is tight, made of solid rock, and as it spits the two of you out onto solid ground, you pause to glance back at Din.

Your gaze lingers on him and Din isn’t sure what it is he sees there.

But it is momentary. Fleeting.

You give him your back, continuing on, and Din strides up beside you effortlessly. Amongst the towering forges, Din glimpses the Armorer. She stares back, arms at her sides, observing. Din inclines his head in her direction and she repeats the gesture.

At the communal kitchens, Din drops the basket full of fruit off as you speak to another member of Clan Kryze.

It’s funny, this feeling, how Din could see a place for himself here. He has always been alone even with his covert. On Mandalore, with you, there is a sense of belonging, like he is supposed to dwell amongst Sundari’s broken halls.

“Thank you for your help.”

Din could melt into your voice. Let it swallow him up. Consume him.

“I’m always at your service,” he replies, turning in your direction.

You’re right there. So close. One touch can’t hurt. Just a small one.

Din’s fingers flex and then curl in before relaxing. He makes the first move, the backs of his fingers gently brushing against your bare ones. Your eyes widen, and for a moment, Din believes he’s ruined it all.

But as he starts to pull away, your index finger hooks around his, locking the two of you together. And you do not drop your hand.

Din stares into your face, and it is all that he needs. He is lost in your eyes, and your smile. How can he return to Nevarro?

Someone clears their throat, and the two of you jump back from each other.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Din,” you say quickly. “Thank you.”

Din backs away, departing with an inability to form words and a tightness in his chest he doesn’t entirely understand.

There’s a clamor near the Great Forge. A crowd.

Din navigates it, emerging from between two Mandalorians to the edge of the throng. Bo-Katan stands at the top of the stairs. To Bo-Katan’s left is the Armorer, and to her right are Koska Reeves and Axe Woves. There are several more Mandalorians that linger on the stairs. All of them are talking amongst each other.

One of the Mandalorians on the stairs speaks up, his voice projecting clearly over the crowd. His armor is the blue of Clan Kryze. “We need to send a party.”

A significant portion of the crowd vocalizes their approval. Din remains silent.

“We should,” agrees Bo-Katan. “But without knowing where they are, we’d be going in blind.”

“I agree with Rax,” says Axe. “Just volunteers. We all understand the risks.”

Several Mandalorians in the crowd step forward and voice their willingness to volunteer. Whatever Din has stepped in to, it’s not good. Glancing down the line, Din spies Paz Vizsla. He and Din have always been at odds, but Din needs answers. Melting back into the crowd, Din shuffles toward Vizsla. Din appears next to him, and the big guy gives Din a passing glance.

“What happened?” asks Din in a low voice.

“A creature from the Mines crawled out of its hole,” answers Paz.

“Attacked miners?”

Since retaking Mandalore, the Mines have been a priority. Groups go down to clear out all sorts of nasty things while other groups descend to fix pipes and passageways. Sometimes unrefined beskar ore is found. Sometimes they find armor absent its owner.

“No,” replies Paz. “Growers. Thing crawled straight up and burst through the rock.”

Din’s throat drops into his stomach.

“Casualties?”

“Two,” says Paz. “The rest were taken or injured.”

A twisted wrench within Din’s gut sends a wave of nausea through him. He wavers slightly on his feet before reality comes crashing back. Din swallows down the trepidation and terror, turning everything in him into steel.

“Who?”

Paz rattles off the names, and Din nearly sighs with relief. You are not dead, and you’re not amongst the injured. But you’re gone. Taken. And that simply won’t do.

Axe Woves raises his voice above the crowd again. “Who will volunteer?”

There is no forethought. No pause. Din steps forward silently.

If anyone will bring you back, it will be him.

Din silently slides into a crevasse, dropping down onto solid rock. Other Mandalorians move in the dark, their headlamps off as they creep closer toward their target. They too are silent, and though Din cannot see them, he feels them. They are everywhere, surrounding the beast in a circular maneuver.

The Mines are endless. Full of dangers.

This creature is but one.

Din uses his helmet’s internal display to see the world around him and pick up on heat signatures. The creature is large, easily taller than three grown men stacked on top of each other, and its fur appears coarse. While it has two legs, Din notices three sets of arms.

In the creature’s rage and confusion, it likely lashed out at whatever it could. It has the mental clarity to seize without injury, but the why is uncertain. And yet the why doesn’t matter to Din. What matters is that you’re alive.

You are alive.

Din has already found you. He just can’t approach yet.

It’s too dangerous.

When you work in the Growing Caverns, you don’t always wear all of your armor. There isn’t any point to it. It only impedes your efforts. Which is likely why you couldn’t entirely fight back.

Din will make sure you never remove your armor again. He’ll lecture you about it until you hate him for it. As long as you’re safe, that is all that matters.

The crevasse deposits Din into the den of the beast. It shifts, and Din freezes. You are right there, tucked against it. But you are not alone. There is another grower with you. The two of you have your arms wrapped around each other.

There are others, but their heat signatures no longer register on Din’s display. They are gone.

In that same display, Bo-Katan’s crouched body comes into view. She moves silently across the rock, Koska Reeves at her back. They approach you and the other grower, and with subtle movements, manage to shift the beast’s arm away from your confined bodies.

Din sidesteps, following suit until he’s right up on you. His hand is on your waist. At your back. You stiffen, and then melt, fingers digging into his flightsuit between the beskar. You do not speak. You say nothing. You only cling to him, and Din ushers you away as Axe Woves escorts the other out of the den.

Everyone backs up. Begins to retreat.

The moment Din enters the crevasse again, he moves swiftly. What Din would like to do is pick you up in his arms and carry you out. Yet it might cause too much noise or could slow him down. You’re not limping. You don’t appear injured.

From behind him comes a rumble. A shake that makes the rock around him shiver.

Din does not pause.

There’s a roar, and then a deafening boom.

The chargers have gone off.

Din tucks you against him as the crevasse widens. He bends forward to dip his arm under your thighs, and then he’s lifting. Running. Your arms go around his neck and you press your face against his chest.

Another round of chargers goes off but it is a distant thing.

There is no roar. No bellow of anger.

Din does not turn around to see if any other Mandalorians move with him. He is determined to return you home.

The twisting, tight rock widens again, and Din steps out into a cavern with a low ceiling. Din sighs with relief as several Mandalorians approach him, concern clear on their faces. Din eases you back to your feet, and though you wobble briefly, you remain upright.

You turn toward him, lips parted as if you want to say something to him. But whatever you wish to say is not to be. You are whisked away, and Din can only watch.

There is little Din perceives after that. He merely exists until he’s finally allowed to see you. For him, it feels like years. In reality, it is only a day.

“You came for me,” you murmur. The adoration and affection in your eyes is piercing, spearing him through the heart.

“I wouldn’t leave it up to anyone else,” replies Din blandly because it’s true.

You laugh, and then wince. “That’s sweet,” you say, but Din hears the doubt.

Din leans forward on the upturned bucket he sits on. Your makeshift cot is low to the ground, and Din has to look down at you in this position.

His heart hammers in his chest, the memory of hearing you’d been taken still fresh and hot.

“Your absence was a wound,” says Din. “I was hollow when I heard.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I thought you were dead.”

You fingers grip the thin blanket on your body. There is no armor. It was removed. Set aside. You’re only wearing a gauzy top and bottom. Bare feet poking out from the bottom of the blanket.

“I wasn’t,” you whisper, but Din isn’t sure why you’re resisting so much.

“Do you truly believe I wouldn’t come for you?” When Din asks, he is not harsh. He is genuinely curious. There is hope laced within the question.

You shake your head. “I knew you would. It’s all I thought about in the dark.”

“And I came.”

“You did,” you agree.

Your fingers loosen from the blanket and Din allows instinct to lead him. His hand extends, slips under yours, fingers intertwining. Your eyes are watery but there are no tears. Even if there were, Din would wipe them away.

“Why?” you whisper. “Of everyone. Why me?”

Din’s breathing is shaky as he settles himself. The truth is loud. Blaring. He needs to say it, to speak it into the ether, to know if you also feel the same. At least, in some capacity. He’ll take anything you’re willing to give him.

“You are my peace.”

You give him that sweet smile again, the one he wants to bottle up and keep forever. “Not the farming?”

Din chokes back a laugh, shaking his head. Your smile is teasing now. Kriffing hell, he wants to kiss you.

“You know what I mean,” he chastises.

“I do,” you affirm, grinning.

It is just the two of you. There is quiet. Peace.

Your free hand reaches out, fingers brushing over the beskar of his chestplate. They roam upward, pausing at the Iron Heart there.

“What do you want of me, Din?”

“You,” he says automatically. “I want you.”

Your gaze lingers where your fingers touch. It flicks upward. Holds. Though Din wears a helmet, he swears you can see behind it, peering into his very soul.

“I thought you’d pass like the rains,” you murmur, the tips of your fingers pressing lightly against the beskar. “That time would show the truth.”

“And did it?”

You nod. “You stayed. You always stayed.”

“Would you like me to stay?”

Stay. Stay here next to your bed. Stay here in this room. Stay here on Mandalore.

“You won’t leave?”

“Only if you tell me to.”

You sigh, and it’s the sweetest sound to him. “Then stay, Din. Please.”

taglist:

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@tiredmetalenthusiast @thepetitemandalorian @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @kayden666

@cherryofdeath @enfppuff @cinnabeanz @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu

@marispunk @ferns-fics @beebeechaos @tulipsun-flower @nomercyforthewarrior

@hantheconqueror @glassgulls @childofyuggoth

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sneakyparsnipslicer · 4 months ago

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The Cosplayer

For a few years now Glen had been going to an unofficial event for a game he loved. It all began around 2021, he'd seen his friend Kieran talking about it on Twitter; a gathering of fans of the game in a town he'd be able to get to. The first time he'd gone to the event, he was able to meet many other fans of the game, recognising some content creators he'd interacted with before online. In the midst of them all, there was one guy that stuck out to him; a cosplayer dressed up as one of the main protagonists.

Glen had seen a fair few cosplayers at places like Comic Con, but this guy was good. Very handsome. From what Glen could gather from others was he was a professional cosplayer that went to many official events hosted by the company that made the games they all enjoyed. Glen knew then and there that he'd have no chance getting to know the guy, but all the same he could admire him from afar.

The next two years were the same, Glen went to the event, so did Mr. 'Geno-Morphus' as his username online had him called. It was clear Geno had a band of friends he'd always hang out with at the events, some of which were shared with the people Glen had come to befriend over the years, though Glen never got the chance to meet Geno, they could never seem to be in the same place at the same time. Each year Glen would see him co-hosting a cosplay panel with another professional cosplayer. Glen had thought they were together until Kieran told him that Geno was actually gay, but also married. Glen had never felt his hopes rise and fall so fast, but he accepted the fact.

In late 2023 a small group of the event goers organised a little meetup in a town a little further away, and Glen was asked by Kieran if he'd like to go. Hanging out with the people at the events had fast become a highlight of each year and so he jumped at the chance. They'd all be meeting up early 2024, granted it wouldn't be as big as the main event, but it would be nice to see the friends all the same.

The journey took a while and Glen had just journeyed up following a night shift, so after a little nap at the hotel he'd booked a room at, he went down to the bar to meet up with Kieran, who waved to him. "Kieran! So good to see you!" cried Glen sweeping his friend into a hug. "Hey mate, good to see you too! Did you get a good rest?" Kieran asked, reclaiming his seat. Glen grabbed a seat next to him. "Oh yeah, NEVER travelling 3 hours after an 8 hour night shift again! Had to stop at Costa and get a shot of Espresso" Glen shuddered. Kieran chuckled, taking a sip of his whiskey. "Ah right, be right back, just gonna get a drink!" said Glen quickly, he headed to the bar and soon returned to the table with a pint of whiskey also. They both said "Cheers!" and clinked their glasses.

"So, is anyone else here yet?" Glen asked. "Well Caitlin says she'll be along in a few hours, Jack's here but he's taking a rest, he has come up from London of course" started Kieran. "Of course, I don't blame him" said Glen, Kieran nodded in agreement. "Fred and Kim are on their way with little Sammy, but their train's been held up" said Kieran. "Oh no, that sucks. Really hope Sammy won't kick up a fuss. Remember that time in 2022 when he had to be taken out the room?" asked Glen laughing. Kieran smiled, chuckling. "Yeah I think they want to forget about that, so don't bring it up!" said Kieran. Glen took a sip of his whiskey and gave him a thumb up. They both sat and talked a while, updating eachother and how life's been since the previous event, Kieran was surprised to learn that Glen had been invited to a Halloween party by Jack that had been hosted by another couple they knew based in London. As the night went on more people did arrive, drinks were had and to Glen's surprise, who should show up but Geno-Morphus. It seems he didn't live too far away and had actually decided to come along earlier in the week. Glen didn't quite know what to say. It wasn't like he didn't know who Geno was, but he wasn't exactly acquainted with him. Geno went to get a drink and came back, sitting next to Glen.

"How're you doing mate?" Geno asked Glen, smiling at him. "Oh you know, just happy to be here, happy to see everyone" Glen smiled. "We haven't spoken before have we? I know I've seen you at the events but I think I've been a bit to busy with the event organisers" said Geno, looking Glen up and down. "Yeah, I totally get that. Must be tough to get a moment to yourself at times like that" Glen replied. "Oh mate, you know it! So what's your name?" Geno asked. "Oh, I'm Glen, love your work!" Glen chuckled. "Cheers man, I really appreciate it. My name's Wesley in case you didn't know" said Wesley, offering his hand to shake, at which Glen accepted it. Glen and Wesley chatted a lot about their jobs, Glen joking about the actual shit he has to clean up at the cinema, Wesley talking about his cosplaying schedule. Eventually the group carried chatting til past midnight when the last call bell was rung. Some of the people took their drinks back to their rooms, Glen found himself walking with Wesley to Caitlin's room, she'd had way too much to drink and so they made sure she got back to her room and into bed safe. Glen left a glass of water on the side table for her and they both left. "Guess it's just us now Glen, fancy hanging at mine for a bit?" Wesley asked. "Sure, sounds good!" said Glen. They both headed to Wesley's room which was a floor above Caitlin's. Getting in, Glen saw that Wesley had brought his laptop, which was still on.

"Ah, thought I'd closed it. Oh well, wanna hear the playlist I'm putting together for my birthday party?" Wesley asked. Glen nodded. He pressed play and 'A Little Piece of Heaven' by Avenged Sevenfold started playing, Glen started laughing. "Oh man, no way! I haven't heard this song since 2012!" cried Glen, they both had fun singing the main chorus. "God you are so down to Earth Glen! How have we not spoken sooner?" asked Wesley, laying down on his bed looking at him. Glen shrugged. "I guess I always thought you were on another level. I mean we have guys that stream the games, podcasters, people making custom levels and I come along like 'Hey, I clean toilets at a cinema!'" said Glen. Wesley laughed. "I like you Glen, you're a good laugh" smiled Wesley. Just then, 'The Best' by Tina Turner came on. "Oh Tina Turner, you have great taste Wes!" said Glen, closing his eyes and swaying to the music. "Yeah, love Tina. Got to see her and Bryan Adams perform 'It's Only Love' back in 1985, God that was a good night" said Wesley looking at the ceiling. "1985?! Fuck man I wasn't even born!" Glen laughed. Wesley nodded sadly. "Yeah, this birthday coming up I'll be 47" said Wesley. Glen's jaw dropped. "No way are you 46!" said Glen in disbelief. Wesley shrugged. "It is what it is" he said. "But you're fine as fuck!" said Glen, clapping a hand over his mouth, realising what he'd just said. Wesley looked at him and laughed. "You really think so?" he asked, smiling. "Well if we're being honest, yeah. Your husband's a lucky guy, whoever he is" said Glen. Glen fell silent for a moment. "Maybe I should be getting back to my room now, sorry Wesley" said Glen, standing up and moving to the door. Wesley stood up and put a hand on Glen's shoulder. "It's ok, it's sweet of you to be honest, you've been so open tonight and I really appreciate that" said Wesley, standing before him, smiling.

Glen's mind was racing, he'd long had a crush on Wesley, he just never imagined he'd ever be in a room alone with him. Wesley moved in and kissed Glen gently on the lips. Glen didn't resist at first, but he pulled away and shook his head. "Sorry Wes, this isn't right, you're married" Glen began, Wesley put a hand gently on Glen's cheek. "Hey it's alright! We have a bit of an open relationship. Polyamorous, you know. He'll always come first of course" Wesley explained. "Well, unless you cum first, right?" Glen chuckled, then hid his face in his palm. Wesley cackled at the joke, pulling Glen's hand away and kissing him again. Glen could feel his dick harden, he'd wanted Wesley for such a long time now and this was it. This was where he got to know Wesley intimately. Wesley pulled back and smiled, taking his jacket off. Glen began to unbutton his shirt and Wesley pulled his t-shirt off. They both looked at eachother shirtless, next moment they were in eachother's arms, making out, hands on eachother's backs, Glen running a hand through Wesley's hair and Wesley slipping a hand below Glen's jeans to feel his ass. They both pulled away, panting. "You've been wanting this a while, haven't you?" asked Wesley, grinning. "Oh if you could only know!" said Glen breathily, rubbing his hands over Wesley's well-defined pecs. Wesley wrapped his arms around Glen and thrust him onto the bed, sitting atop him, beginning to unbuckle his own belt. Glen watched in anticipation as Wesley threw his belt away and began to pull down his trousers and boxers, revealing his girthy dick. "Am I living up to the dream?" asked Wesley. "I'll say! Fucking hell!" said Glen, reaching out to grab the shaft, beginning to pump it. Wesley threw his head back and began to moan, Glen sat up and began to suck his dick. Wesley looked back at Glen and smiled, pushing him back down on the bed. He stood up and kicked off his trousers and boxers. "Here" he said, laying back down on Glen, grinding his crotch into him whilst kissing him on the neck.

Glen cried out in orgasmic ecstasy as he wrapped his arms around Wesley's back. "I want you inside me!" Glen said, and Wesley stopped, they both stared eye to eye for a moment. "Well now I have your permission…" Wesley said sinisterly and proceeded to force Glen down stronger than before, grinding his crotch into Glen furiously, the sound of squeaking, squelching rubber filling the room and Glen moaned out. To his surprise, Wesley was beginning to sink into his own body, Glen put his hands on Wesley's ass, helping force him in. Glen had never felt more aroused and his sense of feeling was beginning to diminish, this absolute stud of a man was fucking his way in and it was amazing. He didn't know this was even possible, but somehow, he felt he'd needed it.

Under Glen's skin, Wesley was shifting himself, moving his arms and legs to fit correctly, lining up his face with Glen's. He unbuckled Glen's belt and pulled down his jeans and briefs, grabbing Glen's expanding dick and choking it, ensuring his own dick was stretching nicely into Glen's, using both hands he jacked off working up a sweat until finally he let out two, thick squirts of cum, laying back on the bed, panting. Glen's body was now in Wesley's control. He leaped off the bed and ran his hands down his slippery body. He walked over to the mirror and looked at himself. There was no trace of his old face at all, he was effectively Glen with a bit more musculature than before. "Well I've had fursuits and morphsuits, but you Glen, you've got to be my first bodysuit!" Wesley said out loud in Glen's voice. Hearing Glen's voice escape his mouth only made him smile, this was perfect. Wesley had grown bored of continual convention cosplay, it paid good, but required him to be available, never really leaving time for himself. Glen was to be Wesley's final cosplay, he'd announce Geno-Morphus's retirement on the socials later, and who knows, maybe his husband will enjoy Glen too!

#male tf #gay #bodysuit #merging #male transformation #transformation

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bywons · 3 months ago

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CRIMES COMMITTED AGAINST WOMEN, ITS HER FAULT?

RG KAR MEDICAL COLLEGE&HOSPITAL, THE HEINOUS ACTS

NOTE: THIS POST HAS INFO SOLELY BASED ON MY OWN RESEARCH, SOURCES FROM THE NEWS AND INTERNET SO CREDS OF SS TO THE OWNERS. if you have any other information regarding this case, please please do feel free to reblog this and share them, as i can't compile everything in one post due to the case being an ongoing one. I would appreciate if you could read all of it, I tried to keep it short and compact and easy enough for everyone to understand. Of course, I have to keep a few names and specific political parties and critism out of this for obvious reasons of this post being taken down, but trust me, karma is real.

Do tell me if I lack anything, will try my best to add it or make another post about it. WE WANT JUSTICE.

01 TAKE HER NAME, DON'T FORGET HER

Dr. Moumita Debnath, a junior female doctor, a 2nd year PGT at R G KAR medical college and hospital was gang r4ped and m4rdered in the college seminar hall, while she was in a 36 hr shift, in 9th of August, 2024, Kolkata.

R G KAR, a reputed college and hospital, only allowing the top of brains to enter its premises, has now lost it's name to this heinous crime. Moumita debnath's perpetrators live to this day and the college authorities are yet to pay any heed. Why?

That poor girl was bleeding from her eyes, vagina, with disfigured limbs and broken collarbones, bite marks, broken pelvic girdle and hyoid bone several other signs of struggle and violence ( attached report below ) Even her legs were forcefully coaxed apart, that her bones were broken. 150 gms of sperm was have been discovered from her body, when a male individual can only transfer a maximum of 15 gms. Can you imagine her pain? What did she do to deserve this pain and suffering, this heinous crime against her? Can you imagine how her parents must have felt to hear the news?

Oh, I forgot. This absolute blood boiling, gut wrenching and demonic of an act was immediately announced as a "SU3CIDE" upon initial FIR, and to her parents, by authorities. Can't you see? How they tried to coarctate the matter by calling it a su3cide?

How can a girl with extreme signs of violence and r4pe on her body, with little to no clothes, broken limbs, bleeding eyes, commit a su4cide? THIS IS A BLOT ON THE AUTHORITIES WHO ARE CLEARING VIEWING THIS MATTER AS A JOKE no girl in that condition can commit a su3cide, do you really think people are THAT DUMB?? that we won't notice you trying to cover up this case??

02 TAMPER THE EVIDENCE, HIDE THE CRIMINAL

Dr. Moumita Debnath's body was cremated without her parents' approval/permission. They were kept waiting for 3 fucking hours. As if to get rid of her body as soon as they can with minimal autopsy, before CBI could even start investigation.

As soon as this case was handed over from WBPD ( west bengal police department ) to CBI ( central bereau of intelligence ) mobs have barged in and LITERALLY DAMAGED THE WALLS BESIDE THE SEMINAR HALL ( the crime scene ) inside the college premises. And for what? Come on we know it all, for removal of some obvious evidence.

On 14th august, during the middle of the night which was during the ‘RAAT DOKHOLE MEYERA’ ( girls reclaim the night ) rally, in RG KAR, mobs yet again managed to infiltrate the college premises to cause damage again, this time targeting specific cctv cameras as well. They also vandalised public property and vehicles in a "profesional" way. — “MBBS student Anupam Roy, an eyewitness to the mob attack, said the mob's act was deliberate with the clandestine motive of ending their agitation.” — from Hindustan Times.

They even CAUSED HARM TO THE WASHROOMS OF THE FLOOR WHERE EVIDENCE COULD'VE BEEN FOUND. The motive of the mob is obvious— to tamper the evidence in order to protect the perpetrators.

03. POLITICS BEFORE BASIC LAW & ORDER?

Political parties are busy blaming each other and throwing dirt on names, meanwhile also trying to hide the perpetrators and start protests against opposition parties. Is your political position and meaningless arguments more valuable than a girl's life which been lost so brutally? Can we not keep politics aside, just for a moment and try to bring the girl justice? These thick skinned selfish monsters don't feel the pain of her parents, the emotions of helpless women and the crime they're commiting themselves.

They are slowly shifting away from the main matter of bringing her justice, trying to coarctate is slowly by heavy politics. Well the public is not dumb, we can see it all and understand how our CM doesn't even care about this situation.

SHAME ON YOU, the authorities, you're are only hope in this city in this state and you're acting this way?! Do you not have spines? Is money and votes everything to you? How low is too low and why is it the west bengal government?

They even have an accused suspect in custody ( Sanjoy Roy ) whom everybody is calling a scapegoat, which he possibly could be regarding the governments recent inactivities towards the situation. They are even giving out orders to resist rallies and protests, such a fucking disgrace, cause then vandalism and tampering of evidence is right but not raising your voice against it?

04. HAPPY INDEPENDENCE?

This year marks the 77th independent year for India, but are we really? Women are not safe at night walking along the streets their own ancestors fought for, women are not safe in their own workplace working shifts, women are not safe in public transport, in their homes, neighbourhood, schools, colleges, NOWHERE ARE WE ALLOWED TO HAVE A PEACEFUL BREATHE. But for how long? It's been 12 years since we witnessed a similar, horrible and atrocious crime as NIRBHAYA, only for it to happen again. This shows how weak, corrupted, and unjust Indian judiciary system has become, and as an Indian myself, it ashames me deeply to admit this. We are failing as a society, still not being able to create a safe environment for our women.

But time has come now to raise our voice and fists together against this oppressive, corrupt government and snatch our own freedom ourselves. DONT YOU EVER FORGET ABOUT HER, TAKE AND HER NAME AND PROMISE YOURSELF TO BRING HER JUSTICE. If we forget and give up, god knows how many others will die like this without any justice. Justice is ours and we will have it, there is no point of being 'independent' if we have to do candle marches every other day, mourn for our women every other day, be scared of letting our daughter out every other day.

This is time, we rise up as one.

We want the actual criminals to be punished a hundred times more cruelly than Dr. Moumita Debnath was k!lied.

WE WANT JUSTICE. BRUTAL PUNISHMENT TO THE CRIMINALS.

ALL EYES ON RG KAR. ALL EYES ON DOCTORS. JUSTICE FOR MOUMITA DEBNATH.

tagging few of my moots. @leaderwon @rainytapestry @fertilizedtoesw @atrirose @hoonvrs @flwrstqr @mioons @dioll @okwonyo @okwons @heeblurs @weoris @junislqve @jlheon @sainns @hyeinism @fleurre @soov @isoobie @boyfhee @jjunae @onlyjjong @wonfilms @kissofhoon @voikiraz @koishua

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sonics-atelier · 3 months ago

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Headcanons for Neris

For @nerisweek Day 3 : Headcanons, Read on Ao3 Here.

Headcanons for Neris Based on the Moodboard -

Nesta learns to knit to manage her stress. The familiar motion of the needles, coupled with the surge of happiness she feels when she can create something that brings joy to others, is healing for her soul. She regularly gifts Eris with handmade scarves, blankets, and even a dog plushie resembling his shadowhound, Cinnamon.

In turn, Eris learns to cook, experimenting with new recipes he has learned from his mother, crafting mouthwatering delicacies for Nesta. It delights him to know that his efforts can bring her joy.

They often take leisurely walks near Eris's secluded cabin in the Autumn woods. Sometimes, they engage in deep, meaningful conversations that last for hours; other times, they walk in companionable silence, savoring the beauty of nature around them. These moments calm them both. They also indulge in playful games like "I Spy," behaving like children eager to reclaim a piece of the carefree youth they never experienced, determined to make the most of their time together now.

Nesta finds solace in the library at Autumn Manor, with its wealth of poetry, intriguing subjects, and sweet romances. At night, Eris reads poetry to her, his soothing baritone lulling Nesta into a peaceful slumber. As she rests her head on his chest, a look of pure bliss graces her face. Eris, observing her serene expression, smiles at these precious moments, kisses her head, and pulls her closer, cherishing the quiet intimacy they share.

- @sonics-atelier 2024 ( do not repost or reuse in any way shape or form )

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rivalsforlife · 1 year ago

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Ace Attorney 456 Tokyo Game Show Information Masterpost

Since I haven't seen all the information collected in one place, this post SHOULD be a comprehensive review of everything revealed today - though please let me know if I missed anything important.

New Trailer and Release Date

youtube

We got a new trailer for the 456 collection, which covers (most of) what I'm going to say in this post, and a release date of January 25, 2024!

New Features

Language Support: These games are now available in seven languages: Japanese, English, French, German, Korean, and Traditional and Simplified Chinese, along with voice dubs for each of these. These are some of the first times some of the games (in particular 5 and 6) are officially translated to many of these languages.

DLC: The previously DLC-exclusive cases Turnabout Reclaimed and Turnabout Time Traveler will be added to the game for free, along with previously DLC-exclusive costumes. You can dress up Phoenix in the Tigre outfit from the beginning!

QOL: As well, any of the quality of life features from the Great Ace Attorney Chronicles have been added to the 456 collection. This includes an episode/chapter select unlocked from the start, so you can skip straight to your favorite sections, autoplay and story mode, and a backlog/history to review recent text.

Art Gallery: The game will also include an "art gallery" which includes concept art for the games. This will also include special artworks commissioned exclusively for this collection, some of which are unlocked after beating each game and unlocking each trilogy.

Orchestra Hall: There is also an "orchestra hall" where you can listen to what seems to be the full soundtrack for all three games (though I haven't verified this), along with orchestral tracks from the 15th anniversary and 2019 orchestra concerts.

There are also two new "trilogy exclusive" songs: "Apollo Justice - A New Era Begins! 2024", and "Trucy's Theme - Bring It In, Everyone". The new "a new era begins" remix might possibly be what they're playing in the trailer. "Bring It In, Everyone" is distinct from Trucy's main theme, "Child of Magic" (listed earlier in the soundtrack list), so I have no idea what that one will be like.

Animation Studio: This new feature allows you to play around with character models, setting up different backgrounds and sprites and settings, to create whatever scene you want. This doesn't seem to have a text feature, so it just seems kind of like a worse objection.lol but with 3D sprites. (Although I'm sure the objection.lol people will find a way to rip the models in like... five minutes of the game's release)

Preorder Information

It seems we overseas people will only have the collection available digitally, but Japan seems to have physical copies along with a lot of preorder bonuses! You can find the official page here.

This includes the following:

Game Software: You can order this standalone, or with the other preorder goods, or seemingly just the goods on their own without the software included.

Original Drama CDs: Two new drama CDs are being developed for this collection! As far as I can tell, one involves the Gavinners attempting a one-night-only revival of the band (which goes poorly...), and the second involves Taka fleeing the courtroom.

Evidence and Items Set: This includes ten pieces of evidence available from the games, along with some original illustrations. As can be seen above, this includes things like the photo of Apollo and Clay from Dual Destinies, six ID photos of major characters, and a signed poster of Klavier.

As well, a new sleeve box drawn by Takuro Fuse, the character designer for 5 and 6.

That should cover everything, but please let me know if I missed any news!

#ace attorney #FUCK TUMBLR SHORTCUTS. YOU DIDN'T SEE THIS ANY EARLIER #news

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medra-gonbites · 2 months ago

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A Whirlwind of Caresses

A one shot chapter for @bloodweaveweek 2024

Day 5 | Sharess' Caress

Word Count: 1166

NSFW - Dub Con, Hurt/Comfort

When the drow twins proposed to them in the lavish showroom of Sharess’ Caress, Gale couldn't help but feel extremely uncomfortable. He thought of declining at first but was cut off by Astarion’s enthusiastic response.

"I'd like to try doing things like this again now I'm free to find my own desires." The vampire mewled, leaning on Gale's shoulder, leaving a tentative kiss on his cheek.

The two men had not had physical relations since their night together at the Tiefling party. Not that Gale minded at all. But he reckoned this was an important step for Astarion. It was Astarion’s chance to reclaim some agency, some ownership over his body: he had been deprived of it for so long.

Gale wanted to make his lover happy above all else. Casting his own insecurities aside, he accepted the offer. He would simply power through this. He might even enjoy it, if he persuaded himself enough.

They followed the two escorts to the underdark room. Nym Orlith was devouring Gale with her eyes. The mage felt naked before he even had the time to undress. She took his hand and placed it on the claps of her blouse, while Sorn was gently wrapping his arms around Astarion's hips and pulling him into a chaste kiss. Gale felt a little pinch in his heart, seeing his mouth claimed by someone else than him.

Delicately taking his chin between her index and thumb, the other drow guided Gale's head back to her and with a sultry voice, purred in his ear.

“Let’s enjoy ourselves tonight.”

Gale’s mouth became dry and his heart started pounding. Nym kissed him lavishly. She parted her lips and slipped her tongue in his mouth and Gale could taste her. Wine and cherry. Despite the sweet scent and gentleness of his temporary lover, Gale felt nauseous. With an assertive yet soft tuck, she steered him toward the bed. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Sorn lightly pushing Astarion in the same direction.

All four of them converged there and fell onto the silk covers. Began a whirlwind of caresses: grinds, thrusts, pulls and pushes. There were tongues, and fingers and arms and legs. Slick and folds sliding across all sorts of flesh. A lewd melody composed of moans and wet squelches against the skin.

Gale was overwhelmed. He wanted to misty step away from this mess but he could not leave Astarion alone.

The wizard sought his lover’s gaze. He was laying at the far end of the bed on his side. Nym had her back to him, bucking into his hips and pressing a hand on his lower back to encourage and guide him. She faced Astarion and peppered his lips and neck with moist kisses while Sorn cradled him from behind, nipping at his shoulders and ears and running his hands up and down his chest and lower.

When Gale finally met Astarion’s eyes, a cold shiver crawled down his spine. They were empty, staring into nothing. He was passively submitting to the touch of the twins, giving them access to the spots on his body they desired to explore. A perfectly conditioned automaton, he stroked and patted and caressed and kissed the places that were sure to elicit moans and whimpers. Pliantly and impassable, he let himself be touched and groped and lapped and bitten without a word or an emotion.

Gale had seen enough. He reached over and grabbed Astarion's hand. With a flutter of his fingers and a deep murmur, he pulled at the strands of weave and a flash of yellow light engulfed both men as they both teleported away from the bed. Astarion blinked and looked around him, assessing his new position. Feet planted on the ground, his fingers intertwined in Gale’s, his eyes lively once more though still slightly dazed. He squeezed Gale’s hand, his relief evidenced by the immediat relaxation of his face and body.

The twins remained on the beddings, confused, before turning to their escaped guests.

“Apologies.” Gale declared, not the least bit sorry, “My partner and I would like to end this merry session here, if that’s all the same to you.”

Nym let out a disappointed moan, stretching her arms above her head. Her brother was already reaching for his abandoned garments on the floor.

“It is your money, wizard. Your wish is our command.” He chuckled.

“On that matter,” Gale added, “Would you mind us using the room for a little while longer?”

Nym was slipping into her blouse. She walked over to him on her way out the room, her hands ever so slightly brushing against his bare shoulder as she passed.

“You can take all the time you need…”

With the pair gone, Gale sat Astarion on the edge of the mattress. He kneeled down in front of him, cupping his cheek and examined his ruby eyes with an enamored and concerned look.

“Are you alright, my love?” He whispered.

“I am. And I’m sorry, I spoiled the fun… I thought I was ready”

The vampire looked down, as if ashamed by his coyness. Gale lifted his chin up to retrieve his gaze.

“You didn’t spoil anything… In fact, I didn’t really want this at all, but...”

Astarion frowned fiercely. His nostrils flared and he bare his fang with an outraged hiss. He was clearly furious.

“Why would you do something like this if you didn’t want to!” He shrieked.

“Because I thought that was what you wanted.” Gale stuttered, taken aback by the sudden anger of his partner.

Astarion grabbed the mage's head, his hands firmly clamping on each side of the other man's temples. His eyes were burning with indignation as he spoke.

“Never do that again! You hear me?!”

“Yes…” Gale breathed.

Astarion sighed, slowly calming himself down. He placed a gentle kiss on the wizard's lips, a token of his love and a sweet apology for his risen temper. He was about to get up from the bed when Gale pushed him backwards onto the silken sheets.

“Where are you going?” He playfully asked, joining him on the soft fabric, “We’ve got the room to ourselves, there are plenty of things we can still do!”

Astarion tensed up.

“Like what?” He hesitated.

Gale grabbed a pillow and gently lifted the other man's head in order to place it under it. He took a second one for himself and laid on his belly. He rested his head on the plump cushion, and winked mischievously.

“Nap!”

He kissed Astarion’s forehead and nuzzled next to him, closing his eyes and letting out a tired sigh.

Astarion remained immobile for an instant, eyes open wide in surprise before his lips stretched into a comfortable smile. In turn he kissed the brow of his lover, and let his eyes slowly close shut as he slipped into a well-deserved trance.

#bloodweave #gale x astarion #astarion x gale #galestarion #gale/astarion #astarion/gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #astarion ancunin #astarion #bloodweaveweek2024 #bloodweaveweek #bwweek #blood weave #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate fanfiction

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 2 months ago

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Between the Ropes… a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 22: it came back…

Flashback: July 8th, 2024.

Rhea leaned in closer to the mirror, carefully applying the last touches of her dark makeup in the locker room. Her reflection stared back, almost unrecognizable from the woman who had vacated her title just a few months ago. That long three-month break had done wonders for her, allowing her to heal both physically and mentally. Her shoulder, which had been her greatest concern, was fully healed, and now she was thrilled to be back.

Despite her excitement for her return, her mind kept drifting to Jey. It had been months since they last spoke, since she told him she had chosen Matt. She thought back to how relentless Jey had been in blowing up her phone, sending text after text, calling at odd hours. But once she posted her wedding photos on Instagram—pictures of her smiling in her dress, Matt looking ecstatic beside her—Jey went silent. No calls, no texts. It was as though he had vanished entirely, and while part of her was relieved, another part of her felt a gnawing sense of... loss.

She shook her head, dismissing the thoughts. This wasn’t the time to think about Jey, not when she had a show to do. Tonight was a big night—she was scheduled to confront Liv and Dominik in their ongoing storyline, a dramatic interruption that would set the stage for the next chapter of her career. And to be fair, she was genuinely excited. Wrestling had always been her escape, and after a three-month hiatus, she was more than ready to dive back in.

Just as she finished applying her lipstick, there was a knock on the door. She turned, heart skipping a beat, but it was only Hunter, peeking in with a nod. “Let’s go,” he said, signaling it was time for her to head to the ring and interrupt Liv and Dom’s moment.

Rhea took a deep breath, a familiar fire igniting inside her. She stood, straightened her outfit, and gave herself one last look in the mirror. This was her moment—her return. And no matter what happened outside the ring with Jey, tonight she was all about reclaiming her place in the spotlight.

She nodded to Hunter and walked out of the locker room, leaving her lingering thoughts of Jey behind as she stepped back into the world of wrestling, ready to dominate once again.

—

Jey watched the monitor intently as Rhea made her return, confronting Dominik in the ring. She looked confident, powerful—like the Rhea he remembered before everything between them got so complicated. There was no doubt she was back in full force. It stirred something inside him, a mix of pride and frustration. She’d come back stronger, and yet here he was, still tangled up in feelings he should’ve buried months ago.

With a sigh, Jey grabbed his bags and checked his phone. The Uber was almost there. He made his way through the hallways, head down, avoiding the other wrestlers as much as possible. He knew what was coming. Next week, he’d be in the ring with Dominik, and Rhea would be at ringside, watching the match unfold. The storyline dictated he’d have to taunt Dom, beat him, and gesture to Rhea, telling her to call him. The audience would eat it up, but Jey dreaded it. Seeing her, even in the guise of a storyline, would stir up everything he’d tried to move on from.

As the Uber pulled up outside the arena, Jey tossed his bags in the trunk and slid into the backseat. The drive to his hotel was quiet, the tension from the night still lingering in his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that things weren’t over between him and Rhea, even if she’d chosen Matt. There was something unresolved, something pulling at him.

The car came to a stop in front of the hotel, and Jey stepped out, rolling his shoulders as he glanced around. That’s when he spotted Damian Priest getting out of an Uber just a few feet away. Damian glanced at Jey, and Jey immediately knew what that meant—Rhea would be coming to this hotel, too. She’d probably be here any minute now, following behind her stablemate.

Jey’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t ready to see her. Not like this. He didn’t want to face the awkwardness, the tension, the unspoken words that hung between them ever since she walked away. But then again, when would he ever be ready?

He pulled his bags from the car and threw one over his shoulder, heading inside the hotel lobby. He could feel Damian’s eyes on him for a second, but neither of them said a word.

As he checked in and took the elevator up to his floor, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering how things would play out when he finally saw Rhea again. Would it be tense? Would she act like nothing had ever happened? Or worse, would she pretend it didn’t matter, that he didn’t matter? He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. Whatever was going to happen, he’d deal with it when the time came. For now, he just wanted to get to his room, shut the door, and avoid everything for a little while longer.

But deep down, Jey knew he couldn’t avoid Rhea forever. Sooner or later, they would have to face each other, and when they did, it wouldn’t just be about the storyline anymore.

Jey swiped his key card, the green light flickering as the door to his hotel room clicked open. He stepped inside, dropped his bags by the door, and kicked off his shoes. The silence hit him first, thick and heavy, almost suffocating. He could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning, the distant murmur of people in the hallway—but inside this room, it was just him. Just his thoughts.

As he sank down onto the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, he rubbed his hands together, staring blankly at the floor. His mind kept drifting back to her. Rhea. No matter how much he tried to push it away, she lingered in his thoughts like a ghost. He thought of the way she looked tonight, standing in the ring, commanding attention, as if she hadn’t been gone for months. As if she hadn’t walked out of his life and married someone else.

Jey leaned back, running a hand over his face. It shouldn’t still hurt, but it did. He had tried to convince himself that what they had was just a fling—a wild, reckless moment between two people who needed something, anything, to feel alive. And yet, the way she made him feel… it wasn’t something he could shake off easily.

He thought back to the nights they spent together, the laughter, the stolen moments when it was just them, away from the cameras, away from the world. She made him feel something he hadn’t felt in years—wanted, alive, like he mattered. And that terrified him.

Jey gritted his teeth, feeling the familiar pang of anger flare up in his chest. She had chosen Matt. She had made her decision, and he had no right to be angry about it. But that didn’t stop him from feeling betrayed, from feeling like she had walked away from something real.

And now? Now he was supposed to see her week after week, pretending like it was all fine, pretending like what they had didn’t mean anything. He scoffed, shaking his head.

"If she ever comes back," Jey muttered under his breath, "I’ll make sure she knows exactly what this is."

There was no way he was going to let her get under his skin again. If Rhea ever came crawling back, he wouldn’t make it easy for her. He wouldn’t let her pull him into her world, only to leave him hanging when it got too real. No, he’d make her feel like just a fling—like it was nothing more than a fleeting moment.

He thought about how he would do it. He’d treat her the way she treated him. Keep her at arm’s length. Make her feel like an afterthought, something to fill the empty spaces between the chaos of their lives. He wouldn’t let her in. Not again.

Jey clenched his fists, the anger simmering beneath the surface. Maybe that was the only way to get over her. To make her feel like she never mattered.

But even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. Rhea mattered. She had always mattered. That’s what made this hurt so damn much. He shook his head, frustrated with himself, with her, with everything.

As he lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, he let out a long, exhausted sigh. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He wasn’t supposed to care. He wasn’t supposed to still feel like this. But he did. And no matter how much he told himself he could treat her like just a fling if she came back, he knew deep down that if Rhea walked back into his life, everything would come rushing back, whether he wanted it to or not.

But that was a problem for another day. Tonight, all he wanted was to close his eyes, shut out the world, and forget—for just a little while—that Rhea Ripley had ever made him feel anything at all.

Jey lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as his thoughts refused to settle. He had been tossing and turning for hours, but sleep just wouldn't come. His mind kept replaying every moment he had shared with Rhea-every stolen glance, every touch, every kiss. He groaned in frustration, running his hands through his hair as he turned onto his side, but nothing helped.

By the time the clock hit 3 a.m., he was wide awake, his mind still racing. Why couldn't she just stay out of my head? Jey thought angrily, clenching his fists. He was done with her. He had to be. She made her choice-she married Matt. She was out of his life now, and he needed to move on.

But just as he started to drift, there was a soft knock at the door.

Jey shot up, immediately irritated. Who could be knocking at this hour? He swung his legs over the side of the bed and marched to the door, his frustration bubbling to the surface.

When he opened it, his breath caught in his throat. There, standing in the dim light of the hallway, was Rhea.

She didn't say anything at first. Her eyes were locked on his, and the tension between them was palpable. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she reached for the tie of her robe. Jey watched, his heart pounding in his chest, as she let it slip open, revealing blue lingerie underneath.

All the anger he had felt, all the resolve he had built to keep her at a distance, melted away in an instant. Without thinking, Jey grabbed her by the waist and pulled her inside, his lips crashing against hers. He kicked the door shut behind her and fumbled to lock it, all while his hands stayed on her, gripping her like he was afraid she'd disappear again.

But then, just as quickly as the kiss had started, Rhea broke it off. She pulled back, her breathing heavy as she looked up at him, her eyes soft and full of something Jey couldn't quite place.

"I missed you," she whispered.

Jey froze, the words hanging in the air between them. He should ve been angry. He should ve pushed her away, told her she didn't get to say that-not after everything. But the way she looked at him, the way her voice trembled just slightly... it was enough to make him forget every reason he had to stay mad.

He rested his forehead against hers, his breath shaky. "You married him."

Rhea closed her eyes, the weight of those words sinking into her. "I know," she whispered.

"But..."

"But what?" Jey asked, his voice barely being heard.

"You can't keep doing this, Rhea. You can't just show up like this and-"

"I missed you," she repeated, more firmly this time. Her hands gripped the sides of his face, forcing him to look at her. "I didn't know what else to do."

Jey's heart clenched. He wanted to be angry.

He wanted to tell her to leave, to never come back. But instead, all he could do was kiss her again, harder this time, as if that kiss could erase all the confusion, all the pain.

The feel of her, the taste of her-it was all too familiar, and it overwhelmed him. His hands roamed her back, pulling her closer, desperate to close the distance between them. She responded just as eagerly, her body pressing against his, as if they could make up for all the time they had spent apart in this one moment.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice nagged at him, reminding him that this was dangerous, that nothing had changed. She was still married. He was still married. And this... this was only going to complicate everything.

But right now, none of that mattered. Right now, all that mattered was that she was here, with him. And for the first time in months, Jey didn't feel alone.

As they stood there in the dimly lit room, tangled in each other's arms, Jey couldn't help but wonder how long this could last. How long they could keep pretending this was enough.

But that was a problem for tomorrow.

Tonight, all that mattered was her.

—

As the remnants of their intimacy hung in the air, Jey felt a storm of emotions brewing inside him. The weight of the moment lingered, but anger quickly bubbled to the surface, pushing aside any remnants of affection. He sat up, running a hand through his hair as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"Are you going to go back to your room?" he asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

Rhea, still glowing from their shared moment, looked at him with a hint of surprise. "I thought I’d sleep here," she replied, a softness in her voice.

Jey shook his head, his heart racing. "That’s not how things go anymore," he said, forcing his voice to remain steady, even as he felt the ache of longing tug at him.

Rhea’s expression shifted; the warmth faded into something cooler. She stood up and threw her robe on, the fabric rustling as she wrapped it tightly around herself. Her accent thickened as she spoke, frustration evident in her voice. "I’ll remember that this is just a fling, Jey. When I want a good time, maybe I’ll call you when I feel like it."

Jey felt his chest tighten at her words. They stung more than he wanted to admit. He watched her walk toward the door, every step echoing the finality of their conversation. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving him in the dim light of the hotel room, a profound silence settling in.

He bit back his words, a mix of anger and regret swirling inside him. He had wanted this—to keep things casual, to avoid the complications that came with deeper emotions. But as he sat there, the coldness of her words replaying in his mind, he realized just how hollow that decision felt.

Jey leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling as he tried to push the feelings down. This was going to remain a fling, he told himself firmly. No emotions were going to get involved. That was the deal, after all. He had made it clear, and so had she. But as much as he tried to convince himself of that, the image of her—of her warmth, her laughter, the way she made him feel alive—refused to fade.

A wave of frustration washed over him. He had to be strong, had to stick to the plan. But deep down, he knew that every time she called, every time she walked into a room, it would feel like a crack in the wall he was trying to build around his heart.

With a sigh, he picked up his phone, scrolling through his messages. There were none from her, just the silence that felt heavier now. Jey tossed the phone aside, knowing he had to face the reality of the situation. They had crossed a line, and while he had convinced himself that he could keep things light and fun, the truth was that they were already in too deep.

He got up and moved to the window, staring out at the city lights shimmering in the distance. He could feel the weight of his decisions pressing down on him. He wanted to be free of the emotional entanglement, but the way Rhea made him feel was something he couldn’t easily shake off.

The night stretched on, and Jey was left alone with his thoughts, grappling with the tension between what he desired and what he knew he had to do. This was just a fling, he reminded himself. But as the hours passed and the silence deepened, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would ever truly be that simple.

—

Rhea walked down the dimly lit hallway of the hotel, her heart racing and emotions swirling. The moment she stepped out of Jey's room, she felt a mix of exhilaration and regret. She had gone there for a fleeting connection, a taste of something she missed, but the weight of their conversation hung heavy in the air.

As she made her way back to her own room, she replayed the evening in her mind. The kiss, the heat of their bodies, the thrill of being with him again—it had all felt so right in the moment. But now, faced with the reality of her marriage to Matt, everything felt wrong. They had agreed to keep things casual, to keep emotions out of the equation, yet here she was, feeling more conflicted than ever.

Once inside her room, Rhea tossed her robe onto the bed and paced back and forth, trying to make sense of her feelings. She slid off her lingerie and threw on an oversized shirt… it was Jey’s. She continued pacing as she thought about how much she missed Jey during their time apart; there was an undeniable chemistry between them that had only intensified since their last encounter. But she couldn’t ignore the commitment she had made to Matt. They were married now and Rhea still felt obligated to honor that commitment.

The anger in Jey’s voice echoed in her mind. "This is just a fling." The words stung, but deep down, she knew she had provoked him. She had deliberately thrown it back at him, pushing him to remember the terms they had set. Still, part of her longed for something more. A part of her wanted to explore the connection they shared, to dive deeper into the feelings that simmered beneath the surface.

Rhea stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She wanted to scream, to cry, to let the conflicting emotions out. Jey made her feel alive, like she was free to be herself without judgment. Yet every time she thought of him, the nagging guilt of her marriage pulled her back.

She grabbed her phone, hesitating for a moment before scrolling through her messages. There were none from Jey, and an odd sense of disappointment washed over her. She had thought he might reach out, but maybe he was just as confused as she was.

"Ugh!" she groaned, tossing her phone onto the bed. "What am I doing?" She sank onto the edge of the mattress, running a hand through her hair. She had always prided herself on being strong, on not letting anyone else dictate her feelings. But Jey had somehow wormed his way into her heart, and it terrified her.

Rhea recalled their heated exchange once more, the way his expression had shifted when she mentioned their arrangement. She had wanted to provoke him, to see how far she could push the boundaries. But now it felt like she had crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed.

With a sigh, she stood up and walked to the mirror, staring at her reflection. The wedding ring on her finger felt heavier than ever, a constant reminder of the vows she had taken just months ago. She had always envisioned a future with Matt, yet lately, her heart had been drawn to Jey in a way she couldn't ignore.

What was she going to do? The reality of her marriage loomed over her like a dark cloud, and she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that maybe she had made a mistake.

Rhea turned away from the mirror, frustration bubbling within her. She had to find a way to sort this out, to confront the truth of her feelings for Jey and what they meant for her future. The night was still young, and while part of her wanted to shut down and forget everything, another part urged her to be brave.

With a renewed sense of determination, Rhea picked up her phone again, her fingers hovering over Jey's contact. She hesitated, unsure of what to say or how to bridge the gap that had widened between them. But she knew she couldn't ignore her feelings forever.

As she sat back down on the bed, she took a deep breath, finally deciding that whatever happened next, she would face it head-on. The question was, could she find the courage to confront Jey again and navigate the complicated web of emotions they had tangled themselves in?

But she did… and in a matter of days, she would end up back in Jey’s arms…

—

Present Time. October 5th 2024.

The steady hum of the airplane engines created a comforting white noise, making the cabin feel more intimate as Rhea leaned back in her seat, her fingers tapping gently on her phone screen. Beside her, Jey was settled in, his arm casually draped on the armrest between them, his eyes shifting between his phone and her. They were halfway through their flight to Atlanta.

Rhea, always proactive, decided to connect to the plane's Wi-Fi. She felt Jey's curious gaze fall on her and smiled, not looking up from her screen.

“What you looking up, button nose?”Jey asked, his voice filled with casual curiosity.

“Wedding decorations,” she replied without missing a beat, scrolling through Pinterest, where images of floral arrangements and elegant setups filled her screen.

Jey’s face broke into a wide smile, his eyes softening as he leaned in a little closer. “Oh yeah? What’re you thinking?”

Rhea tilted her head slightly, her mind already imagining the day. “I like blue and white. It’s clean. Fresh. Something different.”

Jey chuckled softly, nodding as he rested his hand on her leg. “I was thinking blue and black. Something a little more... I dunno, bold.”

She turned to look at him with a playful grin. “We do enough bold. Let’s keep it simple for the wedding.”

He grinned, giving in almost immediately. “Alright, alright, blue and white it is. You know I can’t say no to you.”

Rhea laughed softly, appreciating the ease between them. For all the intensity they shared in and out of the ring, moments like this—simple, easy, filled with love—felt like a reward after everything they’d been through.

Jey's expression softened further as he looked out the window for a moment, then back at her, a question clearly forming in his mind. “Where do you wanna get married at?”

Without hesitating, Rhea replied, “Vegas.”

Jey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before a big smile spread across his face. “Vegas?”

She nodded, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. “Vegas.”

Jey chuckled, loving the unexpectedness of her answer. “I like that. We can do Vegas. You got good taste, babe.” He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss, sealing the deal.

As he pulled back, Jey’s tone grew a little more thoughtful. “You know... my last wedding... Takecia thought the idea of a Vegas wedding was trashy. She didn’t want it.”

Rhea’s brows furrowed slightly at the mention of his ex, but Jey’s next words soothed any tension that might have lingered.

“But I think it’d be dope. I got one question, though—” Jey’s voice grew softer as he met her gaze. “Can Jon marry us?”

Rhea smiled, a soft warmth filling her chest. “Of course he can,” she said, her voice steady and sure. “It’d mean a lot to you, wouldn’t it?”

Jey nodded, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah. It’d mean everything.”

As they held each other’s gaze, the weight of the moment settled around them. They weren’t just planning a wedding—they were planning a future, together. A future built on trust, love, and a lot of mutual respect.

“So, who we inviting?” Rhea asked, bringing the conversation back to logistics, though a playful tone edged her words.

Jey rubbed his chin thoughtfully before his face broke out into a mischievous grin. “Actually, I got an idea. How about... three weddings?”

Rhea blinked, completely caught off guard by the suggestion. “Three? What, are you trying to break a record or something?”

Jey laughed, the sound deep and warm. “Nah, hear me out. First, just us. We get married at the courthouse, with Jon and Trinity there. Real quiet, real small. Then we go to Vegas, invite what little friends we have left, have a crazy fun time, right? And then...”

He paused, looking at her, waiting for her reaction.

“And then what?” Rhea asked, intrigued.

“A traditional Samoan wedding,” Jey finished, his voice filled with pride. “Jon marries us in front of my whole family.”

Rhea’s lips parted slightly, taking it all in. It wasn’t what she had expected, but the more she thought about it, the more it felt... perfect. The courthouse wedding was intimate, just for them. Vegas was the celebration, the wild moment with their friends. And the Samoan wedding? That was the tradition, the grounding. All of it fit together in a way she hadn’t even imagined.

“I love it,” Rhea finally said, her voice soft but sincere.

Jey reached over and intertwined his fingers with hers, bringing her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. “Good. ‘Cause that’s how we’re doing it.”

She grinned at him, feeling more secure than she had in a long time. This was it. This was their life. Three weddings, one love, and a whole future ahead of them.

As the plane continued to soar towards Atlanta, Rhea rested her head on Jey’s shoulder, her thoughts drifting between today’s match and their future plans. The championship could wait—right now, the only victory that mattered was sitting right beside her. She closed her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel that she had already won.

—

Flashback July 22nd, 2024

Jey sat in the quiet of the locker room, the familiar hum of arena activity fading as the crowd began to disperse. He was exhausted, both physically from his match and emotionally from the weight he’d been carrying. As he packed his gear into his duffel bag, the faint vibration of his phone pulled him from his thoughts.

It was a message from Takecia.

Takecia: Got the confirmation email from the Maui Resort. They refunded my deposit.

Jey stared at the screen, the words hitting him like a punch in the gut. He had known this was coming, yet the reality of it felt heavier than he anticipated. Their anniversary trip to Maui—once a symbol of their relationship, now just another casualty of their crumbling marriage.

He typed back slowly.

Jey: Yeah, I got the same email.

There was a long pause, the kind that always made Jey uneasy. Takecia had become distant in ways that left him wondering if she even wanted to be with him anymore. Finally, her response came through.

Takecia: We don’t really need one, do we? What are we celebrating for?*

Jey blinked, rereading the message. It was so cold, so detached. He rolled his eyes, feeling the familiar ache in his chest return. His heart had been breaking piece by piece for months, and this was just another crack in the foundation.

Still, he wasn’t the type to give up without trying, even if it felt like he was the only one trying to hold them together. He had to give it one last shot.

Jey: We should see a therapist.

The seconds felt like hours as he waited for her reply, a tiny flicker of hope buried deep inside him. When her response finally arrived, it extinguished any remaining hope he had.

Takecia: What for?

Jey closed his eyes, frustration building in his chest. What for? As if their problems weren’t obvious. As if they hadn’t spent months avoiding each other, living like roommates instead of husband and wife. He could feel his patience slipping, but he typed back anyway, desperate for something.

Jey: Because I still love you.

The silence that followed was suffocating. He could practically hear the walls of their relationship crumbling around him. He stared at the phone, willing her to respond with something, anything that showed she still cared. But there was nothing.

With a sigh, he added one more message, knowing it might be the one that sealed their fate.

Jey: I guess not?

This time, she didn’t leave him waiting long.

Takecia: When god gives me the strength again, I’ll love you..

Jey read the words, and for the first time in a long while, he felt… numb. There it was. The confirmation that she wasn’t fighting for them anymore. She was leaving it up to something else—something he couldn’t control. If she didn’t love him now, what was the point of pretending? He had been carrying the weight of their marriage for too long, and it was finally wearing him down.

He didn’t respond. What could he say to that? He tossed the phone onto the bench, running a hand over his face as the reality of it settled in. He wasn’t sure if he could even feel the pain anymore—it was just... empty.

Jey wasn’t the kind to walk away easily. If she had given him even the smallest sign that she wanted to fix things, maybe he could have given up whatever was happening with Rhea. Maybe he could have been faithful, gone to therapy, tried to rekindle something. But you can’t fix a marriage alone. Both of them had to want it, and it was clear now that Takecia didn’t.

Just as he began to gather his things, his phone buzzed again. For a moment, he thought it was Takecia, maybe with some half-hearted apology or excuse. But when he checked, it was Rhea.

Rhea: Horror movies and room service? You in?

Jey let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It was like a lifeline, something to take his mind off the mess his personal life had become. Without hesitation, he messaged her back.

Jey: Yeah, I’m in.

Before he could set his phone down, another message popped up from her, this one playful, flirty.

Rhea: Don’t take too long… or I might just start without you 😏

Jey felt a small smile pull at his lips for the first time that night. Her playful tone was exactly what he needed, something light, something easy. Something that made him forget, even for just a moment, that his marriage was a wreck. He let his thumbs move quickly across the screen, feeling that familiar warmth Rhea always seemed to bring out in him.

Jey: You better save me some, or I’ll make you pay for it 😈

Her response came almost immediately, filled with laughing emojis and a reply that made him chuckle. It was easy with her. Too easy, sometimes. With Rhea, he didn’t feel the crushing weight of responsibility or the constant fear of disappointment. He felt... free.

As he left the locker room, bag slung over his shoulder, he couldn’t help but feel the shift inside him. He wasn’t in love with Takecia anymore. Not in the way that mattered. He was there for their kids, for the life they had built, but for her? That love had died long before either of them admitted it.

His phone buzzed again as he stepped into the hallway, and this time, he was more than eager to check it.

Rhea: See you soon, handsome.

Jey smiled, his pace quickening. He knew what this was, and he knew where it was heading. But for the first time in a long while, he didn’t care. His marriage with Takecia was over, even if the papers hadn’t been signed yet. He was just staying for the kids now. For the memories. Not for her.

When he knocked on Rhea’s door that night, he wasn’t thinking about Takecia, or their canceled anniversary trip, or the therapy sessions that would never happen. He was thinking about Rhea, and the comfort she brought him in the storm that was his life.

And for now, that was all he needed.

—

Flashback: July 24th, 2024.

Takecia sat in the familiar waiting room, flipping through a magazine without really absorbing anything. Her mind was elsewhere, swirling in thoughts that had weighed her down for months. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, trying to find a comfortable position in the stiff plastic chair. The waiting room was quiet, with only the faint sound of a television playing some daytime talk show in the background.

As she turned another page in the magazine, she caught the eye of a couple sitting across from her. They looked like they were in their seventies, their faces soft with wrinkles and smiles that radiated warmth. They held hands, fingers interlaced like they’d been doing it for decades.

The elderly woman leaned forward slightly and smiled. “How long have you been married, dear?”

Takecia blinked, caught off guard by the question, but she smiled back politely. “Since 2015,” she answered softly. “But we’ve been together since we were fifteen.”

The elderly man let out a low chuckle, nodding his head in approval. “Well, that’s impressive,” he said, giving his wife’s hand a gentle squeeze. “A love that’s lasted since you were kids? That’s rare.”

The woman smiled knowingly. “You’ve been through the stages of life together, then. It’s a blessing, you know, to grow with someone like that.”

Takecia nodded, though her smile faltered slightly. It was a blessing, wasn’t it? Or at least it used to be. Now, the love that had once seemed so sure and everlasting felt distant. She looked at the couple again, their warmth and easy connection making her chest ache. Could she ever feel that way with Jey again?

“You know,” the old woman continued, her voice soft and wise, “the secret to a long marriage isn’t avoiding the hard times. It’s sticking it out when things get tough. It’s remembering why you fell in love in the first place, even when life tries to make you forget.”

The man nodded, adding, “You gotta be willing to fight for each other. Some days, it feels like you’re carrying the whole weight of the marriage by yourself. But if you hang on, if you keep working at it, eventually the balance comes back.”

Takecia stared at them, the words sinking in deeper than she expected. They were simple, honest words, but they hit her like a tidal wave. Was that what she had forgotten? The constant fights? The reason they had fallen in love in the first place? Somewhere along the way, between raising kids and managing hectic schedules, she had let. But did that mean the love was gone? Could she find her way back to it?

Before she could respond, the nurse appeared at the door and called her name. Takecia gathered her things, standing up to leave. She looked back at the couple, her heart swelling with gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, though she wasn’t sure they’d fully grasp what those words meant.

The woman smiled, nodding as if she understood exactly what Takecia was feeling. “Good luck, dear,” she said gently. “Love’s worth fighting for.”

Takecia smiled back and headed into the doctor's office, her heart feeling lighter than it had in months.

Later that evening, Takecia sat at her kitchen table, her laptop open in front of her. The kids were upstairs, busy with their homework, and the house was quiet. It gave her the time and space she needed to think, really think, about everything that had been said to her today. She had come into the doctor’s office expecting just another mundane appointment, but she left with something far more important—a glimmer of hope.

She still loved Jey. That realization hit her square in the chest, making it hard to breathe for a moment. She hadn’t been sure for a while. Between the emotional distance and the endless arguments, she had convinced herself that maybe the love had faded, that maybe it was time to let go. But now, sitting here, with the words of that elderly couple ringing in her ears, she knew the truth.

She wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard before she began typing. ‘Personal growth therapists near me’ The search results populated quickly, a long list of professionals in the area who could help. But she knew this wasn’t just about Jey. This was about her, too.

Takecia scrolled through the list, reading reviews and therapist profiles. She didn’t want to rush into couples therapy—not yet. First, she needed to work on herself. She needed to understand what had gone wrong, how she had let herself fall so far out of love, or at least, how she had stopped fighting for it.

After a few minutes, she clicked on a profile that resonated with her. This therapist specialized in personal growth and relationships. That’s what she needed, wasn’t it? To grow, to figure out how she could become the person who could fight for her marriage again. Maybe if she started with herself, she could rebuild the foundation of what they had once shared.

She took a deep breath, then clicked Book an Appointment.

As the confirmation email arrived in her inbox, Takecia felt a sense of calm wash over her. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel hopeless. She had a plan. She wasn’t going to give up on her marriage, not without a fight. But first, she needed to understand herself—her needs, her fears, and what had caused her to pull away from Jey in the first place.

She closed her laptop and sat back in her chair, staring out of the kitchen window. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the neighborhood. It reminded her of how things used to be—bright and full of promise. Maybe, just maybe, they could get back to that place again.

And if they couldn’t? Well, at least she’d know she tried, that she had done everything in her power to save the love they had built from when they were fifteen.

Takecia smiled to herself, feeling a small flicker of hope. It was time to fight for her marriage. But first, she had to fight for herself.

—

Flashback.

September 2nd, 2024, was a day that felt like any other for Takecia, yet a quiet anticipation hummed beneath the surface. She sat at the kitchen table, laptop open and a mug of herbal tea cooling beside her. With a deep breath, she tapped out a message to Jey about their son Jeyce’s recent dental visit.

Hey, the dental bill for Jeyce’s checkup and lab work is $300. Can you send me the money when you get a chance?

She hit send and stared at the screen, willing her phone to buzz with a response. Minutes passed, and she noticed that Jey had read the message. She waited, heart slightly racing, hoping for more than just a transactional reply. When he finally responded, it wasn’t with words but with a transfer notification.

BofA: DEPOSIT TO CHK *1661: Dentist + Groceries: $600

Takecia’s heart sank. The message felt clinical, devoid of warmth or interest. It was just like all their recent interactions—businesslike, focused solely on the kids and bills. He didn’t want to talk. She took a moment to swallow the disappointment, reminding herself that she was on a journey of healing. They were still married, but they were miles apart emotionally.

She leaned back in her chair, reflecting on her progress in therapy. It had been a month since she started seeing her therapist, and while she still had a long way to go, Takecia felt more grounded. She had learned to articulate her feelings, to understand her needs, and to confront the complexities of her relationship with Jey. She had learn to not react angrily, to stop and gather if you would like to call it.

She couldn’t let him keep shutting her out, communicating only about the kids and finances. They had to reconnect, even if it was just to acknowledge the distance that had grown between them. She wasn’t a woman of regrets… but she did regret how she acted in the last few months.

Lost in her thoughts, her phone rang, pulling her back to the present. She glanced at the caller ID and saw it was Trinity, Jon’s wife. Takecia answered, her spirits lifting at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey, Takecia!” Trinity greeted enthusiastically. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all! It’s great to hear from you. How are you?”

“I’m doing well! Just wanted to let you know I’ll be coming into town on Wednesday, September 11th. Jon and I would love to stay at your place if that’s okay with you?”

Takecia felt a rush of happiness. She hadn’t seen Jon and Trinity in a while, and some family company sounded perfect. “Of course! We’d love to have you. It’s been too long!”

“Great! I can’t wait to catch up. And I might need a little break from Jon,” Trinity joked, her laughter ringing through the phone. “It’ll be fun to have some girl time.”

As they continued to chat about their plans, Takecia felt a sense of warmth and connection that had been missing from her interactions with Jey. Once the conversation wound down and they said their goodbyes, Takecia hung up, feeling invigorated. She made a mental note to ask Jon and Trinity if they had noticed anything about Jey. Maybe they could shed some light on his behavior, or at the very least, give her the support she needed to navigate her feelings.

What’s the worst that could happen? The question lingered in her mind. It was a risk, but she was beginning to understand that opening up—whether to family or to Jey—was essential for healing.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to trust her instincts. This was about more than just Jey and their marriage; it was about her journey, too. And if she could find some clarity, perhaps she could finally bridge the gap between them.

With newfound resolve, Takecia grabbed her laptop and opened a new document. She began to jot down her thoughts, preparing herself for the conversations ahead. This time, she wouldn’t hold back. She was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, armed with love, honesty, and the support of her family.

—

October 1st, 2024, dawned bright and crisp, the kind of day that promised fresh beginnings. Rhea stood in the guest bedroom of Jon and Trinity's house, surrounded by boxes and storage containers. The atmosphere buzzed with a mix of excitement and exhaustion as she emptied the last dresser, preparing for her and Jey's upcoming move.

As she pulled open the drawer, she felt a sense of accomplishment wash over her. Rhea had made significant strides in reclaiming her life, especially after everything that had transpired over the last few days. But as she rummaged through the clothes, her fingers brushed against something unexpected, and she paused.

There, hidden beneath a pile of folded shirts, was the unmistakable bottle of her other pain pills. Her heart raced as she recognized them, not the stronger ones that had almost consumed her before Jey had intervened, but the other set—the ones she had completely forgotten about. The ones that still held a whisper of temptation over her head. Jey had forgotten to discard these pills.

Rhea stared at the bottle, her mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. She hadn’t thought about the pills in days, had convinced herself she was moving forward. Yet now, seeing them brought back memories of that fleeting joy, the escape she had chased for so long. Her hands twitched at the thought, yearning for the familiar sensation that came with snorting them.

She glanced around the room, as if expecting someone to catch her in this moment of weakness. But the house was quiet, the only sound was the distant chatter of Jon and Trinity in the living room. With a shaky breath, Rhea grabbed the back of her phone and crushed two pills into a fine powder, her heart pounding in her chest.

In an instant, she created a line on the dresser, her hands moving instinctively. As she snorted the powder, a rush of euphoria surged through her, a sensation she had missed more than she wanted to admit. It felt like a weight had been lifted, if only for a brief moment. But as the high washed over her, guilt crept in like a shadow, reminding her of the promises she had made to Jey and herself.

Rhea wiped away the evidence of her slip, trying to shove the guilt deep down where it wouldn’t surface. She finished packing the clothes, her mind buzzing, both from the pills and the realization of what she had just done. This wasn’t who she wanted to be. She had fought so hard to overcome her addiction, yet here she was, succumbing to the very thing she had sworn off.

In a frantic attempt to regain some semblance of control, Rhea stashed the remaining pills in her toiletry bag, concealing them away from prying eyes. It was a temporary fix, a moment of solace that she knew wouldn’t last. But for now, she could hide it, pretend that everything was okay as she moved through the motions of packing up her life.

She took a deep breath, trying to focus on the future. Jey had been her anchor, and the thought of him waiting for her in the other room reminded her of the commitment they had made to each other. She needed to remember that feeling, to hold onto it tighter than the fleeting high.

Rhea continued packing, but her thoughts were a chaotic mess. She wanted to tell Jey, wanted to share this burden with him, but fear gripped her. What if he was disappointed? What if this shattered the progress they had made together? The thought paralyzed her, leaving her caught in a web of anxiety and shame.

As she finished packing the last of the clothes, Rhea couldn’t shake the feeling that she was standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether she would step back into the light or plunge back into darkness. She had the love and support she needed, but the temptation lingered, a constant reminder that her fight was far from over.

Taking one last look at the empty dresser, she made a silent promise to herself. She would find a way to beat this, no matter how many slips she faced. For Jey, for herself, and for the future they were building together, she had to keep fighting.

With a deep breath, Rhea closed the drawer, sealing away the chaos for now, determined to face the day and the challenges ahead, one step at a time.

#fanfic #fanfiction #jey uso #rhea and jey #rhea ripley #wwe #wwe smackdown #wwe raw #yeet #the judgement day

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mcyt-builds-contest · 3 months ago

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Not propaganda but watching Pandora go up and down in oercentage is so fun. I hope it wins, not just because I like dsmp and Pandoras vault, but because it would be really fucking funny

Mcytblr will forever be scarred by the Vault war of 2024, one of the bloodiest battle of them all

The generals Legundo and Vikingpilot were able to quickly push through the frontline in a coordinated effort, entering into the Dreamswept Hills, inching closer to the capital Lemanbourg.

Yet, as they reached the doors of the city, progress stoped and their army was finaly halted and started to be pushed back, the Pandora resistance, renowned to never lose, was here to reclaim its territory

With no other options available, only one was available, push deeper. They launched operation Ghost, a covert opperative to rallies troops through mass propaganda, and while it slowly closed the gap, it was clear the dominion needed more firepower.

Over a hundred mercenaries were enlisted through payments of priceless art and long lost books, but when the tides finally changed, rose once again a long lost alliance, the jailmakers.

Pandora's resistance wasn't just a resistance anymore, it was ready to finish the game on their playing field. The goal was no longer survival, but to take prisoners, to feel the cells of their master. "The Great Wife"

Turns out, their superior experience in bloody combat was enough to salvage an upper hand, after all, they did vanquish the tinkering army of frost citadel and enslave their leader, the legendary dungeonkeeper.

But it wasnt over yet, the dominion had one final ace up their sleeves, the night puzzle, something so mysterious yet so strong that maybe, just maybe, it could be enough to win this battle.

Because in the end, even after this one, the war is not over.

#mcyt base contest #ask #best prison brackets #here is another taste of my writing dear dominion smp newcomers #i'm pretty sure dreblr knew it already

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desi-girll · 3 months ago

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last night's Women Reclaim The Night: The Night Is Ours midnight protest march... turns out my father actually wasn't against me going out late, it was just that i made assumptions without asking. but anyways, me, mom, dad, and 8-10 of our neighbours went to the Garia More protest site. the turnout here was pretty great so imagine the turnout at the other, more popular sites.

anyways, we went with a candle each, and placed it in front of a poster, as the pic shows. i really hope Abhaya gets the justice she deserves and her soul rests in peace.

but people, let's not forget that the fight isn't over yet! the culprits, and by that i mean the real culprits haven't been punished yet, and are still under political protection. FORDA had called off the nationwide strike after meeting with Union Health Minister, and we all know what that means. everything is corrupted right now, and nothing can be trusted. but we as citizens should do our part in getting justice.

today, 15th Aug 2024, is the indian independence day. but do you think we're really independent yet? is independence only for men? are women supposed to stay at home, be blind to all the corruptions and illegal things happening, and just stay quiet? why is it still not safe for women to go out at night? why is it that we women have to suffer always, whether be it a nursery child or a doctor or an aged person? as Alakh Pandey said recently Girls can't go out late at night not because they are scared of other girls. Boys are what scares them. So the whole problem is not you, it's us (males). The fact that you all are not safe late at night because of us should be our (males) responsibility.

the day women can walk on the streets at any time of the day without being catcalled, stared at in creepy way, being raped, sexually assaulted, having acid thrown over their faces, be subjected to domestic violence, marital rape, tortured, murdered, etc etc etc, that will be the day india will become truly independent. but not before that. not today.

#womenreclaimthenight #thenightisours #meyera raat dokhol koro #reclaim the night #we want justice #we demand justice #justice delayed is justice denied #justice for rg kar #justice for abhaya

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yallthemwitches · 3 months ago

Text

Force Majeure

It’s tempting. He could say yes. Climb those steps and sit on her bed next to her. It was entirely possible to stay friends in that scenario. To do simply as she said: listen to a record as friends because that’s what friends do.

Written for Jily Week 2024, Day 3: In Vino Veritas (hosted by @kay-elle-cee and @sunshinemarauder) AO3 Link Here!

The portrait closed, cutting off the roar of the party within.

A part of him wanted to not be seen. He felt too stubborn, too proud to stay in a room where he had just been yelled at in front of his mates and team. If Claudia was feeling that upset because he didn’t want to wander into a broom closet with her, then it was probably a blessing in disguise to be rid of her.

He shuffled his way down the flights of steps of the tower, passing by little alcoves already occupied by those either snogging or crying. Approaching a small balcony, he spotted a brush of red hair against the stone base of the entryway. As though by compulsion, his body betrayed his better judgment to peer just beyond the corridor. He couldn’t even make excuses about it. Everything about her was a force majeure. He had accepted it as science.

She was alone. It was a welcome change to seeing her with Marlo just hours earlier, him holding her hand while cracking jokes with the rest of the Hufflepuff team. It hadn’t been his prerogative to watch them all evening, but then again it hadn’t been his prerogative to still harbor strong feelings for her.

He had watched as Marlo tried to slide his hand around her waist, Lily brushing it aside as though it were a bug coming to take blood. He could tell she had been uncomfortable and he wished he could have taken her far away from that sensation—that or broken his arm.

“James?” The earth tumbled underneath him. Would he ever get used to her saying his real name? Probably not. He sidled out from the entryway. She was sitting with her knees against her chest, giving a weak attempt at a smile that was clearly clouded in thought.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything—” He looked into the corridor, expecting to see Marlo bounding back from wherever he was to reclaim his date.

“Interrupting what,” Lily scoffed as though making a private joke, “I’m just sitting out here feeling sorry for myself— hardly good company.”

James raised his eyebrows. He didn’t wait for permission and sat down next to her. Even with the space between their shoulders, he could feel the heat rising from her. Since becoming mates he had felt the honor of having her so close, feeling her arms around his, touching the soft curl of her hair. He had hoped that by attaining some semblance of closeness, that feeling of yearning would subside. He had no such luck.

Lily sighed and uncoiled herself, moving to stand up.

“Ah, bugger I’m sorry. I’m sure you are waiting for Claudia and I’m just—”

“Nah–-sit, I’m all on my lonesome now. Claudia and I–” he trailed off, “---were not compatible.”

“Sorry, that’s shit.” She didn’t sound convincing. She sat back down and jutted her legs out in front of her. Her leg brushed his but she didn’t coil away.

“If it makes you feel any better at least Claudia didn’t get wicked drunk and have to be sent to bed.”

James couldn’t help himself. He let out a barking laugh that rang through the stone corridor. Lily cracked a smile.

“Ah damn, how did I miss that?”

How did he miss that? He had been eyeing their movements all night. Perhaps it was all coming to a climax at the same time as his blowout with Claudia. He could imagine Marlo, drunk as piss, slurring his words while the rest of the Hufflepuff team trudged him out of the portrait hole and back to their Common Room. Marlo had always been a bit of a lush in all things.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at your— uh, predicament.”

“You aren’t sorry.” She was right. “But I get it. Marlo was such an oaf.”

“Yeah, a right wanker.” It felt good to take the piss out of him after watching his hands on Lily all night. He looked out beyond the balcony, feeling completely restored. The ringing memory of Claudia’s anger brushing off him like a meaningless wind.

He could feel Lily’s eyes on him and he used every ounce of energy to not meet her gaze. Even as friends her stare was dangerous. He swore it would be studied later, the stare that disarmed James Potter, completely transformed him into nothingness, and then even smaller than that.

“I guess you are gonna want to go back with your mates.” She pulled her hair into a ball then let it cascade down her back.

“You’re my mate,” he retorted. It was sincere but also a warning to himself. How many months of this could he take after all. Being so close to her made it that much worse. Before, he could watch her from afar, feel blissfully unaware of what he was missing. Having her in arms length, pretending to fancy other people, watching her get closer to him while going out with other blokes…there were modes of torture less painful than this.

Lily made a soft humming noise and let her foot splay out to the side where it hooked itself just around his own. Neither of them moved to separate.

“Well, since both of our dates are a bust,” Lily mused, “Wanna go finish listening to the new T. Rex album? I have it up in the girls’ dorm.”

A flash of senses erupted in James’ brain. He had never been invited into the girls’ dorm before by anyone— much less Lily. How many times had he imagined what was up there? Books neatly stacked on her beside, records pulled from their cases and left waiting by a muggle turntable in the corner, the smell of rose and vanilla, her smell, taking over everything.

It was a dangerous thought. Perhaps deadly. He had waited a bit too long to respond.

“---Or not? I mean, it was just an idea.”Lily’s face started to flush with red.

On paper it was so easy, as simple as breathing air. But it wasn’t possible for him. Her force was too strong, and he had worked too hard to get to this point to mess it up. All it would take was a touch or a smile that would shake her out of the haze of friendship and back into disgust of him.

“Ah, I’m sorry—It’s not that I don’t want to–” He didn’t even know what to say. He knew any excuse would sound halfhearted at best.

Lily’s eyes darkened and became glassy. She curled her legs away from his and back into her chest, as though resetting into the way he found her.

“It’s fine.” It clearly wasn’t fine. “God Potter, this is so worthless. So fucking stupid.”

He reeled back in confusion. “Lily I didn’t mean to offend you I–”

“No, save your breath Potter. I get it. Why would you want to hang out with me anyways? I deserve it really—god it's just my luck.”

She buried her face into her arms. James felt frozen, unable to sense how to proceed.

“Lily, I thought we were friends.”

He heard a scoff underneath her arms. “Stop saying it Potter, it only makes it hurt worse.”

James felt the air get sucked away. All the blood in his body congealed like jelly, and suddenly it felt hard to move.

“Lily—you don’t… want to be mates?”

Her response was violent. She stood quickly, wiping her face with her sleeve. She clutched her hands at her sides, frantic.

“I’m so thick,” her voice was cracking, “I could have gone with Marlo, I’m sure his drunk arse would have been happy to shag me, but instead I sit here waiting…waiting for you,” she spit it out with such disdain that James reeled back.

“What—Lily,” he scrambled to hit feet. “What are you saying?”

“For a bloke who has girls clawing at him left and right, you are awfully dense. I’ve had enough of Quidditch playing idiots today. Excuse me–”

She tried to move past him, but he caught her arm. She made a half-hearted attempt to separate herself.

“Lily, stop—really. I need you to explain. I’m an idiot—-obviously—so please, tell me.”

She looked as though she was going to melt into a flood of misery. Tears were gathering at the corners of her eyes and her lips quivered.

“I wanted to go with you tonight, you idiot. Not Marlo. You.” Her voice cracked out and the tears started to fall down her cheeks.

“I kept waiting for you to ask—I thought you–,” she made a broken sigh, “I get it—you’ve moved on. You don’t fancy me anym—”

There was a flash from a couple nights before. Him and her on the floor of the boys’ dorm, listening to a record with the rest of the mates. Him spread out on the ground while she leaned her head on his stomach. At the time he convinced himself it was normal, a friendly gesture. He ignored the wink of Remus, the pointed jab from Peter, all to preserve what little they had together. Of course, he had wanted to believe it was something more, something more like love, but how could he have known then and how could he have dared to even try.

Now, hesitation was not a choice. There was no room for regret anymore—Merlin knew he had years of that when it came to her. He reached for the sides of her face and closed the space between their lips. He could taste the salt from her tears and he kissed it away. He felt her arms slowly move to envelop him, holding onto bunches of his shirt. Their lips moved together in frantic, hungry movements. When they parted, she emitted a soft noise that was part sob, part sigh and held onto him as though if she let go he would be lost to the darkness.

They kissed again, this time deeper, slower. The urgency passed and a new feeling developed. He savored each touch, burning the feeling into his brain in case it was a fluke. Her touches told him it wasn’t.

They broke apart and swayed together on the balcony. She breathed into his chest and he held her tighter.

“So–” she whispered, “would you want to listen to that record now?” Her chin leaned on his chest and for the first time that evening he looked her in the eyes. The beautiful, all absorbing globes of green that undo him. Under her pull, the universe collapsed. They are suspended in space, holding onto each other as the new center, holding on so tight he hardly hears himself whisper the word yes.

#james potter #jily #lily evans #jily fanfiction #marauders era #Jily Week 2024 #Jily Week day 3 #There was an attempt to stay on theme #marauders #James x lily #jple #hp #jily fic

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