#I love you guys for supporting this series

[its-a-me-mango]

THANK YOU ALL FOR AN AMAZING YEAR! HERE'S TO MANY MORE!

Alllright, final thing to close off today, and what better than with a great big THANK YOU to everyone for sticking with me for a whole year! Regardless of if you’ve been around since I first joined or if you only just followed me today, thank you so much for your support of me and my work. Knowing there are so many fantastic and wonderful individuals who all enjoy what I make is just indescribable, I get to wake up and enjoy creating things I love for the series I love so dearly all while so many amazing people enjoy what I make too. I really can’t put into words how thankful I am for everyone who follows me but genuinely from the bottom of my heart, thank you, thank you all for an amazing year and here’s hoping for many more to come!

Now, I do have a few special dedications to a few certain individuals, if I didn’t get the chance to include you PLEASE don’t think that I don’t value you in any way! There were so many cool and talented people that I wanted to thank but I simply didn’t have time to do so! You are all so important to me and it does kill me a little that I can’t thank everyone, but I am just one guy at the end of the day so again please don’t take it personally, I am still so thankful for everyone and I want you to know this. <3

ANYWAY LONG ASS BLOCK OF TEXT UNDER THE READ MORE

So, in no order in particular

@lizaluvsthis @shygirl4991 @b-r-i-n-g-x - I’m putting you all together as one because I always see you guys working as a group so it feels wrong to split you guys up lol. You were all some of the first people I ever saw in the SMG4 fandom and your contributions inspired me so much to make my own stuff too! Everything you guys make always has so much heart and soul put into it, Brewing Romance, Split into 3’s, Gay Ogres, they’re all some of the first projects I remember seeing and for that I wanna thank you guys for motivating me to make and create my own things within this fandom! Even if you guys aren’t as active now or have moved on from those projects, I still hold them dear to me so keep making and creating because you guys are all so amazing at it! <3

@mothsbakery - Moth my beloved friend, I don’t know where to start, when I first got into SMG4, I was so worried about sharing it with my friends because I was worried it would somehow get turned against me in some way (blame that damn trauma lol), so having you take a passing interest in it was such a major relief to me. I’m so glad I’ve been able to sit down with you and watch the few episodes that we have because they’ve been so much fun! I’m so glad that we’re friends even after all these years. I know I’m not always the best at keeping in touch but I do genuinely appreciate your friendship and all that we’ve done together. Please keep making and creating and enjoying what you love, seeing you come to my DM’s with your newest musical piece is always such a joy to listen to and it’s been so wonderful to watch you improve over the years! Keep being amazing Moth, I’ll chat to you soon I promise! <3

@strange0-0storm - STOOOORM!!! (POINTING AT YOU POINTING AT YOU) FREAK!!!!/J I’m kidding lol, Storm I am so glad I’ve gotten the chance to talk with you, even if it's brief, you are so fun to talk to that I can’t wait to get the chance to chat with you again about OC’s or just anything really! Your work is always so yummy, whether it's SMG4, Gravity Falls, Popee The Performer, and more, your art is always just so full of character and it just makes me wanna keep doing what I’m doing and it helps me not worry about branching out at some point to something else. No matter what I will always come back to your work because it's so amazing and it’s even better knowing it’s made but such an equally amazing person, stay awesome Storm! (also RhythmDoctor 4 life they should kiss and make out more JHBBSGHBSGH) <3

@bluesbox - Blue! Dude you are so freaking cool I cannot put it into words, not only is your work fantastic and such a joy to interact with, but you’re also so dedicated to characters lore and interactions that I can’t help but wanna be just like that! I’ll never forget when you first dropped the TSB lore presentation that shit was SO WILD, knowing there's someone who's so invested in other peoples OC’s (including my own!) to such an extent is honestly so amazing, and it really pushes me to invest more time into my own work! Knowing there’s someone out there who genuinely takes so much interest in it is so uplifting, so thank you for always wanting to know more about what I make as well as everyone else, we need more amazing people like you Blue, keep being you! (also PS, the way you give Mango glasses is probably my favourite thing someone has given him, it makes me so happy to see every time, don’t tell anyone shhhhh) <3

@libbytwq - LIBBY, LIBBY OMG I don’t think I’ve ever met another SMG4 fan who just gets the same sense of humor as me so well, I love being terminally on Tumblr and having someone else who is also terminally on Tumblr, it’s so refreshing lmao! Lore not only are you an amazing person to talk to, you are also so insanely talented to match, all of your work has so much charm and passion put into it that I can just sense it with every piece, I always want to know more with your characters like I NEED the full SMGL:E lore or else I will explode and die, that’s how good you are at getting people invested in your work! You’re so great at creating interesting and engaging characters/stories that it motivates me so much with my own work. You have so much love for what you do it’s so wonderful to see, please keep creating forever and always because your work is such an absolute joy to see. I love getting the chance to chat with you so much and I can’t wait to chat with you again, thank you for being such an amazing friend Libby! <3

@hamlos - Hamlos, your work is truly incredible. I really can’t express it enough, it’s so dynamic and flexible in such a beautiful way, everything you make is just so amazing and that's just talking about your art itself, the characters you have are so interesting I always want to know more about them, especially Cardiac I seriously love him so much and having him paired with Mango is so wonderful, they really go together so well! I’ve never had anyone go so crazy (positive) over my characters before and It’s so amazing to see, every time you come to me with your amazing work it’s always such a nice thing to see! I know I am not always the best at responding but I do always see and read everything you send me and it always leaves me with a big smile on my face. Even if you’re not super into SMG4 right now, thank you for all that you’ve done and all that you’ve made for me, HeartBeet will always have a special place in my heart and I hope it does for you too, they are gay after all lol. <3

@neo91502 @hexsie @aquaproductions - Grouping you all together even though you all couldn’t be more unique and individual, every single one of you is so special and amazing to talk to, I legit get so excited any time one of you joins a VC with me because all of you are so fun to hang out with for so many reasons! Neo omg you are honestly such a nice person to chat to and be around, you’re always so fun to hang out with and you’ve convinced me to sit down one day and listen to Epic the Musical because every time you go crazy over the word Epic, I can’t help but find it so cute lol. Nova your obsession with Hex3 is so sweet and I’m genuinely glad you’re having so much fun with it, seeing you go on rambling about your OC’s will always be such a joy to see and you know what yes one day I will draw Hex3 just for you, gimme a second though (dies first /j). And Aqua, I had no idea how much of a sweetheart you were to talk to, you are honestly so cool and I’m so glad to have you in my DM’s sending me amazing fanart that you know I’ll like, thank you so much for being so awesome and I’m giving you platonic smooches right back at ya so watch out!!! All of you are again so amazing and I can’t wait to keep chatting with all of you! <3

MY BELOVED WHO SHAN’T BE NAMED BUT I KNOW YOU’RE READING THIS!!! - Hai babe, listen, I can’t believe the whole time you’ve been dating me I’ve been an SMG4 fan, that must be so embarrassing to you lol /j but thank you so much forever and always for sticking with me. You are truly the light of my life, I treasure every moment we spend together and I am waiting for the future to come so that I can spend it with you forever and always. Thank you for not only indulging in my interests with me, but for enjoying me for who I am, everytime you call me cute for getting giddy over SMG4 it honestly makes my heart flutter and it reminds me of why I love you so much, I wouldn’t be who I am without you and I hope you can say the same thing for me. I cannot wait to get the chance to see you again in person, I need to kiss you sloppy style soooooo bad it's making me bark and growl grrr grrr bARK BARK BARK anyway I love you so much and I always will. (I will forever kiss you for getting me Smug I can’t believe you got him, he’s like a fucked up and evil son to me) <3

@ominus-potato @theartistisme43 @coralalala64 - Grouping you all together even though I have different things to say about all of you, but regardless, all of you are such amazingly talented people that I’d love to get to chat with you all properly one day, even if I’ve talked with you guys a bit it’s not enough! I’d love to get to know you guys better at some point lol. Ominus your work is just so good I can’t help but feel happy anytime I see it. I promise one day we will meet at a convention, I’m so mad I missed you once I won’t let it happen again! Cantro, your work is incredible!!! Every time I see it I’m so amazed with what you’ve made that it just gets me excited to see what else you can create, I am manifesting with all my strength that if you do ever decide to apply as a SMG4 machinima artist, that you get it because god damn you deserve it! And Coral, THE CREATURE CREATOR!!! I love your lil creatures so much, and OMG you have to teach me how to do such amazing pencil work, your work always inspires me so much and I’m so glad I’ve gotten the chance to chat with you a lil, your gif collection is truly frightening but in the best way possible. Again all of you are so amazing so please keep doing what you’re best at! <3

@tiredsmashbros - Tomm, Mr Tiredsmashbros, holy shit where do I even start with you. First of all, I would probably not be thanking half the people in this piece if not for you, I know how scary setting up a server was for you but I will forever be so thankful that you did. Finally getting the chance to chat with not only you, but so many amazing people in the SMG4 fandom has been an absolute joy and I am forever thankful for you for creating such an open and accepting space, you and Radiant are seriously so awesome for all the work you’ve put into that place. It’s from your server that i’ve learnt how wonderful and generous you are as a person, I really cannot think of anyone kinder than you Tomm, the way you always have an essay planned for every piece of fanart you get, from just your overall positive attitude, I am so glad I’ve finally gotten the chance to meet you after just being a fan of your work for so long. Your work has been such an inspiration to me and you’ve always been someone I wanted to chat with and the fact that I am now is!!! Crazy!!! I can’t believe you were scared of me at one point lol. Anyway thank you Tomm for being such a fantastic friend overall, I need to know TSB’s lore right now, can you whisper it to me I promise I’ll keep it a secret, regardless stay awesome dude, you deserve nothing but joy and happiness forever and always. Qwah Tuh (also Burgerfruit beloved, they should get weirder /j) <3

@doodledev1l - Doodle!!!!! Okay I know this sounds weird but genuinely finding another British SMG4 fan has been so refreshing, not only that but you’re super fun to talk to and be around so it’s even better! Getting the chance to hang out and chat with you is always so fun, I love getting to hear what you’re working on for uni and I always hope that it goes well for you, I know how stressful it can be lol. Regardless, I know you’ll do amazing because I’ve seen how dedicated and talented you are when it comes to your work, again I hope the rest of uni goes well for you because you deserve it, we gotta end your bad luck streak somehow lol. Thank you for being such an amazing person to chat and hang out with, keep up the amazing work dude, I’ll get you a tescos meal deal one day I promise. <3

PHEW, THAT’S EVERYONE, again thank you all so much for sticking by my side for a year! Doesn’t matter what time you showed up, I will always be thankful to know all of you, keep being awesome I love you all. I die now

Mango <3

[azzifuddslover]

UNRAVEL - chapter five

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

tw: swearing, alcohol use

themes: angst, fluff

word count: 8.3k

a/n: i apologize for this being a little late, i was working on it but got distracted when paige’s injury happened (so glad to hear it was only a sprain, omg). anyway, this chapter feels unnecessary long considering barely anything happened lol. can anyone tell i love face kisses? so CUTE. please share ur reactions and opinions on this series so far, it keeps me wanting to write 🙃 enjoy

the gampel pavilion buzzes with excitement as the crowd fills the rows of chairs, a sea of school colors and spirited cheers echoing off the walls. paige stands near the huskies’ side of the court, in a huddle with her team, giving one another pep talks— pumping each other up for their very first game. she takes a deep breath to steady her nerves; the weight of the moment pressed down heavily on her chest.

“you ready, p?” nika eagerly smiles from her side, practically jumping up and down with enthusiasm.

“fuck yeah,” paige matches her grin.

as the huddle breaks, the players high five each other. paige feels a rush of adrenaline as they exchange quick, encouraging words, her heart racing in sync with the atmosphere around her.

“we got this, guys,” evina, an upper classman guard, states, raising her hands in the air. the team erupts in a chorus of cheers, a final boost before they take their positions on the court.

paige steps onto the hardwood, the bright lights reflecting off the polished surface. she takes a minute to soak it all in— the cheers, the rhythm of the game, the energy of the crowd. as her eyes waive their way through the rows of fans, her eyes land on her. azzi, her best friend for years now, jumping in her seat, clapping her hands with a wide, goofy smile on her face. paige’s lips tip into a smirk once she takes in azzi’s choice of clothing— her own #5 jersey, the fabric draping over azzi’s frame. the sight warms paige, a reminder that azzi’s waiting for her after the game.

the brunette locks eyes with paige, feeling a rush of pride for her friend. the moment their eyes meet, azzi leans forward, her grin broadening. with a playful twinkle in her eye, she teasingly blows a kiss to the blonde. the gesture causes paige’s cheeks to redden, feeling a mix of embarrassment and affection. she shakes her head, trying to wipe off her own smile.

azzi’s support fuels her energy, and with one quick glance back at azzi, paige inhales a deep breath, centering herself. she positions herself on the court, every heartbeat syncing with the thrum of the crowd.

as the ref blows his whistle, the two players from opposing teams jump up, reaching for the ball in the air. when it’s flicked into the hands of paige, she’s overwhelmed with a surge of adrenaline. instinct kicks in as she dribbles down the court, her focus narrowing on the hoop ahead.

weaving effortlessly between defenders, she throws the ball up, watching it swoosh through the net. the crowd explodes in cheers and applause, impressed at paige’s performance.

the game continues with paige on fire— her passing on point, layups never missing, 3 pointers falling left and right. the entire course of the game, azzi’s line of sight never wavers from the blonde, following her every move. she watches in awe at paige’s effortless plays, wishing she could be playing too, right alongside her.

the first game of the uconn women’s basketball season comes to an end, with uconn taking the win by 35 points. paige, along with the rest of her teammates, high five the opposing team, being respectful and showing good sportsmanship. paige scans the crowd of fans, eyes locking with the familiar curly brunette’s. a soft smile tugs at her lips, her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

after the brief team huddle full of pride, paige almost immediately makes her way over to azzi, who’s waiting near the edge of the court. she strides up, wrapping her arms around her in a warm embrace.

“you did so amazing, paige,” azzi beams, pulling back to look paige directly in the eye.

paige lets out a laugh, awkwardly adjusting her jersey. “thanks, az,” she allows herself to take in azzi’s features before adding, “i’ll meet you outside so we can head to my dorm?”

“sounds good,” azzi replies, her smirk lingering as her brown eyes light up.

paige rushes into the locker room, stuffing her belongings into her bag, zipping it eagerly. meanwhile, aubrey, taking her time to pack, exchanges a knowing glance with nika, who also stands besides paige with curious eyes.

“what’s the rush for, paige?” aubrey asks, voice laced with confusion.

“oh, um,” paige scrambles, “i’m just going to meet up with azzi.”

nika scoffs, not surprised at paige’s response. over the course of a few months, paige has nonstop rambled on and on about azzi and her commitment to uconn— how she can hardly wait for her to arrive, being able to finally play with her best friend again.

“so y’all can make out again?” nika teases, playfully rolling her eyes.

a blush creeps up paige’s neck, clearly thrown off by nika’s commentary. she shifts her weight to one foot, then the other, standing awkwardly. after a momentary pause, paige shallows and furrows her brows, “nika.. that was one time, and we were both drunk. she’s my best friend, that’s all.”

nika glances back at aubrey, who looks as unconvinced as she does. nika purses her lips, shaking her head. “whatever you say, paige.”

“it’s true!” paige defends, throwing up her hands.

the now aggravated blonde finishes off her bag, tossing it over her shoulder before walking out the the locker room without a glance back at her two teammates. during the walk outside, a couple fans approach her, pleading for autographs and photos with her. being the people pleaser she is, she agrees to every single one with a never faltering grin in her expression.

as she steps outside into the chilly november weather, she instantly spots azzi, who’s quietly leaning against the wall, waiting patiently for her. a smile touches her lips at the sight.

paige sneakily runs up beside her without azzi looking up— she throws her arm out around her shoulders and neck, yanking her closer.

“god, you scared me,” azzi giggles, arm coming to hang loosely around her waist as she’s still in paige’s hold.

paige shares the laughter, her heart warming at the sound. “i couldn’t resist,” she teases, giving azzi a playful squeeze before letting her go.

walking side by side towards the dorm rooms, the crisp november air nips at their cheeks. paige glances over at azzi and down at her jersey she wears. “you look good in that jersey, by the way,” paige remarks, a hint of pride in her tone.

azzi beams, her cheeks flushing slightly. feeling bold, she says, “only ‘cause it’s yours.”

“exactly,” paige agrees, nodding her head while her smirk stays put. she confidently drapes her arm around azzi’s waist— just like azzi had previously— pulling her in. her hand lingers on azzi’s rib, slowly creeping up and in.

the eventually arrive at paige’s room, unlocking and twisting the knob until the door opens, revealing the familiar room azzi had been in only a month earlier, for paige’s birthday.

a flood of memories hit azzi from her previous visit— paige laying on top of azzi, hugging the life out of her, kissing her neck and face. she’s unwilling to admit the amount of times her mind has returned to those moments, recalling every soft touch and kiss she so desperately wants to happen again.

paige, with her hand still on azzi’s frame, spins the younger girl around, so they’re facing each other. the corners of her lips twitch up, appreciation swirling in her bright blue eyes. she attacks azzi with a firm hug, wrapping her arms around her body, feeling the instant warmth envelop her. she tilts her head towards azzi’s neck and hair area, inhaling her familiar scent.

azzi, slightly caught off guard, stiffens for a minute before relaxing into paige’s welcoming embrace. she reciprocates, wrapping her own arms the older girl’s waist.

the hug lingers, lasting longer than it should for a pair of friends. azzi eventually pulls back slightly, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and delight. “what was that for?” she asks, her tone gentle.

paige smiles and reaches out to brush a loose curl behind azzi’s ear. “i just appreciate you being here, for, you know, my first game,” she tells her, “more than you know,” she adds, voice barely above a whisper.

“i know,” azzi nods in understanding. “i can’t wait to be here, playing with you.”

“god, me too,” paige groans, exposing her eagerness for azzi’s arrival. she lowers her head to sit on the brunette’s shoulder, lips inches away from her neck.

feeling the heavy weight of the intimate moment between the two, azzi removes her hands from paige’s frame, stepping back until she’s sitting on the unmade bed.

paige shifts awkwardly, already missing azzi’s touch she’s grown to love over the years. she scratches her head, pulling her lips in a line. “wanna get some food? i’m starving,” she questions, trying to break the uncomfortable tension.

azzi’s face lights up, “yeah, that sounds great.” she pushes herself off the bed, putting her phone in her back pocket.

the two walk down the hallway, hands brushing often yet they pull away each time. the atmosphere around them is charged with unspoken words, both feeling an electric, intense pull towards the other. as they reach the exit of the dorm building, paige looks at azzi, pulse quickening.

“where are you thinking?” paige asks, trying to keep the mood light as they step back outside into the brisk air.

“you can decide,” azzi replies.

after playfully bickering back and forth, trying to settle on a place to eat, they eventually agree on chipotle— a place they both love.

the girls eat in a comfortable silence, focusing on eating rather than making discussion. paige can’t help but let her gaze wander to azzi, feeling grateful she’s here with her, despite her home being miles away.

the drive back to campus is brief, but something paige would never take for granted. being here, with azzi by her side, is more than enough to satisfy her. without a word spoken between the two, paige reaches for azzi’s hand, interlacing their fingers, squeezing to show her appreciation.

azzi glances at paige, her features softening at the older’s girl doing. she can’t quite seem to express just how much paige truly means to her, how much their friendship has changed azzi for the better. how much she loves likes her.

“i feel like i play better knowing you’re in the stands, watching me,” paige admits, once again breaking the quiet floating around them.

“why is that?”

paige pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. “i don’t know,” she whispers before adding in a lower voice, “you make me feel like i can do anything. be anyone i want. i love that about you.”

azzi feels her breath catch at paige’s words, nerves eating away at her stomach. “i never realized i have that effect on you,” she responds, vulnerable yet earnest.

paige takes her eyes off the road for a swift moment to meet azzi’s, “you do,” she focuses back to driving, “it’s like, when i see you, you remind me why i play— why i push myself to be the best i can be. you make it feel personal, like it matters.”

a small smile tugs at azzi’s lips, the weight of paige’s confession settling in. “i love being that person for you.”

paige slowly pulls their intertwined hands up to her lips, placing a kiss on the back of azzi’s, her lips staying for a second too long. “me too, az.”

their conversation dies after that, a comfortable silence settling in, just embracing each others presence. they’re hands remain connected until paige pulls in and parks the car. they make their way up to paige’s dorm, walking at a steady pace with barely a distance between them.

back in the room, azzi pulls out her pajamas— a loose shirt with a pair of boxer shorts— and immediately starts removing her clothing. paige grabs her own, starting to change as well. her eyes can’t help but wander to azzi’s frame, with her bare back facing paige. she admires her tan skin, the soft curves of her shoulders, the gentle lines of her back creating an effortless beauty. cheeks reddening, paige tears her eyes away, focusing on her clothing, but the imagine lingers in her mind, stirring something deep within her.

the brunette climbs into paige’s bed like its her own, sinking into the soft mattress, nuzzling into a fuzzy blanket. her line of sight finds the blonde, who’s now slipping on her shorts.

making eye contact with paige, azzi looks away automatically, embarrassed to be caught staring. “i— i’m sorry.”

paige only laughs, causing azzi to relax a little— not a lot, but a little. “i don’t mind, azzi.” she crawls in the bed, the distance between them growing shorter and shorter. she quickly turns off the lamp, turning to face the younger girl.

paige leans forward, placing a hand on azzi’s hip and pressing her lips to azzi’s forehead, a gesture of care and gratitude towards her. when she pulls back, she rests her head on a pillow only inches away from azzi’s, looking her dead in the eye. “you always make everything better whenever you’re around,” she whispers, the darkness surrounding her.

azzi’s heart squeezes in her chest at the sincerity of paige’s gentle words. she swears in this moment, in the dark of paige’s room, she has never felt more alive. the weight of the world outside fades, as they are solely focused on each other, and each other only. “you do, paige.” with that, azzi closes the distance, planting kisses along her jaw— in a friendly manner, she tells herself.

paige’s breath hitches as azzi softly kisses a trail along her jawline, warmth creeping into her cheeks. the intimacy of the moment feels electric, something she wishes she could feel forever.

pulling back, azzi searches paige’s blue eyes, the playful banter transforming into something deeper, “i’m so proud of you, you know that?” she says, her voice steady but filled with raw emotion.

paige’s heart swells. “really?”

“absolutely,” azzi replies like it’s a no brainer, her tone sincere and firm. “you’ve come so far and handled everything so well. i admire you.”

paige’s cheeks, already flushed, turn an even darker shade of red. she nuzzles her face into azzi’s neck, “god, azzi,” she murmurs, tugging the blanket over top of them.

with paige fully pressed against azzi’s frame, the two girls fall into a peaceful sleep, never moving an inch away from the other— not even in the dark.

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

it’s move in day for the uconn freshmen, including— of course— azzi. driving towards the uconn campus, the girl lets her mind drift to paige, and how they’d be together again, in a matter of minutes. her thoughts wander off to the last night they’d spent together— paige’s body pressed right against hers, paige’s face nuzzled in her neck, her lips grazing the skin there. god, did she miss her.

paige and azzi had texted all through the night, expressing their excitement for seeing each other again. it had been seven whole months since the duo had been together, back in november when azzi attended the blonde’s first college game.

as if on queue, azzi feels her phone buzz against her leg. she doesn’t even need to check to know it’s her best friend.

p: u almost here?

the corners of azzi’s lips tip up at paige’s eagerness.

a: why, u miss me?

p: u wish. but seriously, almost here?

azzi lets out an airy laugh as she playfully rolls her eyes at paige’s text.

a: about 5 minutes away

azzi anxiously taps on her leg, staring out the window, waiting for their car to arrive at their destination. when it does, anticipation bubbles within azzi, her heart speeding up at the thought of playing here— playing with paige, especially.

a: just parked

she puts her phone in her back pocket, not really caring about paige’s response as she’ll be here very soon. azzi glances around, taking in her surroundings and envisioning herself staying here for the next four years. her eyes lock on caroline— an incoming freshman and one of her best friends— and her smile widens. she runs over to carol, pulling her in for a quick hug.

“carol! how have you been?” azzi beams, excited to see her friend.

“aw, i’ve missed you too,” caroline teases, nudging azzi’s shoulder.

“oh, shut up,” azzi rolls her eyes, “you know i’ve missed you.”

caroline only smiles, throwing her arm around her shoulders, bringing their heads together.

“ready to get unpacked?”

“gosh, i’m dreading it,” azzi sighs, “i hate unpacking so much.”

katie and tim, azzi’s parents, unlock the truck, beginning to take their daughter’s luggage out. azzi, being the over-packer she is, packed way more than needed.

as azzi begins to help take her belongings out of her car, she hears the front door creak open. she peaks her head up, instantly seeing the familiar blonde jogging towards her.

“azzi!” she hears paige shout.

she sets down her bag that was previously slugged on her arm, walking calmly to paige. paige closes their distance— the moment they embrace, everything else seems to fade away— the bustling campus, her parents unloading the car, the nerves of starting college.

paige drops her head to rest on azzi’s shoulder, her hands grazing the younger girl’s lower back. azzi gives paige one good squeeze before pulling back, looking her right in the eye.

“finally you’re here, i was waiting all damn day,” paige admits, smile growing until it reaches her eyes. her cheeks are slightly pink— probably from running down here in only a few minutes— and her blonde hair is wet, indicating she showered earlier.

azzi chuckles, her hand coming up to rest on paige’s arm. “i’m here.”

after admiring azzi’s features for a moment to long, paige shakes her head, dragging herself out of her thoughts. “let’s get your stuff to your room.”

azzi tilts her head, eyes softening. “paige, you don’t need to help.”

paige gives azzi an are you serious type of look. “i want to, az.”

azzi feels her heart squeeze as she tries to wipe her silly smile off her lips. she bites the inside of her cheek, gazing lingering on the blonde’s back once she goes to carry some of her bags. she takes in her flexing muscles, in awe of how good she looks doing such a simple task.

paige hoists a duffel bag effortlessly over her shoulder, locking eyes again with the brunette. she smirks before leading the way up to azzi’s dorm room that she’s sharing with caroline. tim, katie, and azzi all follow in unison.

azzi’s parents set down the unnecessary amount of bags azzi had insisted she needed, gave her long hugs before heading out, leaving paige and azzi alone in her new room.

caroline, azzi’s roommate, is still outside with her own parents, surely coming up soon.

the brunette, with a gentle grin on her face, starts to unpack her clothing. she folds up her shirts neatly, placing them in the empty drawers as paige sits awkwardly on the bed.

“you excited to be sharing a room with caroline?” paige asks.

“i mean, yeah, she’s my best friend,” azzi nods. “though i wouldn’t mind having my own space. you’re lucky to have your own room.”

paige furrows her brows at azzi’s comment about carol being her best friend. “she’s your best friend, huh?”

azzi stops folding her clothes, glancing up at paige with a smirk in her expression. she stands, striding over so she’s looking down at paige, who’s positioned on her bed. the older girl leans her head back to look azzi dead in the eye.

“you know your my best friend,” she whispers, “always.”

reassured by azzi’s words, paige wraps her arms around her waist, yanking her closer to her own frame. azzi’s eyes widen at paige’s action— she goes a step further, dropping down to her knees so they’re at eye level.

paige, hands still exploring the younger girl’s body, says, “god, i’m so fucking glad your here, az. you have no idea.”

azzi’s cheeks redden. “i’m glad to be here. with you.”

paige leans forward until their foreheads are touching, wanting so badly to connect their lips like they’ve done in the past, yet have never brought up since.

“my sweet azzi,” paige mumbles, her eyes fluttering shut.

azzi freezes. a heartbeat passes as azzi feels paige’s breath against her skin. the moment hangs heavy in the air, filled with emotions that both excite and terrify her.

“paige—“

azzi is cut off by caroline making her entrance, letting out an exhausted breath as she yanks in her suitcase. she trips over the threshold, her eyes widening as she takes in the scene before her— paige and azzi’s hands all over each other, foreheads pressed against one another’s, barely inches apart.

“did i interrupt something?” caroline exclaims, halting in her tracks.

the two girls scramble to remove their touch from the other; azzi rushes to her feet, cheeks a deep shade of pink as she tries to compose herself. she doesn’t understand why she’s so flustered over carol walking in on nothing— yet she can’t seem to meet her eyes.

“uh, no,” azzi stammers, searching for the right words, still avoiding caroline’s teasing gaze. “we were just talking.”

caroline scoffs, crossing her arms. “yeah, right,” she glances at paige, who’s looking down at her feet. “how’s it going, p?”

paige offers a small smile, finally pulling her gaze up to carol’s line of sight, “good. how ‘bout yourself?”

“i’m alright,” carol nods.

a minute goes by with caroline awkwardly glancing between the girls, azzi standing near her many bags, and paige resting on the bed. eventually, the older girl jumps to her feet, deciding it’s best to leave azzi to get situated.

“see y’all later?”

azzi scrunches her eyebrows, a pang of disappointment spreading through her. paige basically just met up with her, why is she already leaving?

“where’re you going?” azzi asks.

“just running some errands,” she replies, “wanna grab dinner later?”

“yeah, ‘course.”

paige nods, a smile lingering on her face. she exists the dorm, leaving azzi and caroline alone in silence.

“azzi.. are you and paige, you know—“

azzi rubs her temple with her hand, “no, carol! she’s my friend. we’re just kinda touchy, i guess.”

caroline’s lips form a line, clearly unconvinced. “but you like her.”

azzi’s lips part, looking for the right response, one that should come easy, but doesn’t. she’s always felt something towards paige— ever since she was 14 years old. she hasn’t given it too much thought over the years, not wanting to screw up their friendship.

she closes her lips, looking away. by her hesitation, the answer is obvious. “i— i don’t know,” she murmurs, voice low.

caroline’s smirk deepens. “azzi, come on. i can tell by the one minute interaction between you both. you can admit it, it’s not a crime to like someone.”

azzi lets out a frustrated sigh, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “it’s complicated, okay? we’ve always been just best friends. i don’t wanna ruin that.”

“or maybe you’re afraid of what could happen if you crossed the friendship lines?” caroline suggests, “maybe you’ve already done that.”

azzi throws an aggravated look at her friend, choosing to ignore her snarky remark. “whatever, i don’t feel like talking about this right now.”

carol nods in understanding, allowing the conversation to finally die out. “let’s get unpacked, az.”

azzi takes a seat on the floor, beside her suitcase and piles of clothing. carol drops next to her, starting to open her own luggage. the two close friends fold clothes and get situated quietly, not bothering to make discussion.

azzi thinks back to caroline’s comment, and how she automatically knew there was something between her and paige. was her feelings towards the older girl that obvious? did paige feel something towards her, too? she decides to drown out the thoughts by putting in her airpods, letting her mind wander elsewhere as she focuses in on unpacking.

only a week later is the first practice of the season. azzi steps into the open gym, eyes scanning her teammates she’s already began to bond with. caroline, her roommate and close friend, walks in with her, carrying her basketball bag over her shoulder.

“god, i’m nervous,” azzi tells carol, eyebrows drawn together. anxiety flutters in her lower stomach.

“you, of all people, have nothing to be nervous about. you’re probably one of the best players here,” caroline notes, giving a glance to the brunette next to her as she grips the strips of her bag.

azzi takes a deep breath, forcing a smile despite her nerves. “thanks, but i just want to make a good impression. new team, new coaches and all.”

“i get that,” caroline agrees, nodding, “i’m a bit nervous too.”

the two girls walk into the locker room, greeting the teammates already inside with friendly smiles and small talk. as azzi is tying on her basketball shoes, the door creaks open and in walks paige.

paige doesn’t hesitate to walk over to brunette, a grin playing at her lips. “hey az,” she says, tossing her own bag down.

“hi,” azzi replies softly as she pulls the knot of her shoe laces.

paige begins taking out her belongings, getting all situated and ready for practice. being in her sophomore year, she’s gotten used to how practices go.

“look, if coach says anything mean, just know it’s his way of showing his love. he’s gonna be tough, especially to the freshmen,” paige tells her.

azzi chuckles— she’s heard stories about geno and his teaching ways, so she’s mentally prepared herself for today and the next few years she’ll be playing here.

once they’re all ready, the team heads out to the court. paige leads the way, her energy infectious. she’s been ready to start up practices after the team lost in march— she blamed herself and was ready to prove she’s better than that.

as they start warming up, azzi stretches her limbs, feeling her body loosen. they move into practice shots, each player shooting from different positions and directions. azzi, being the sharpshooter she is, focuses on 3 pointers, considering that’s her strongest suit. she misses the first shot, but after wiping her mind of the nerves, she adjusts her feet and doesn’t miss again.

paige steals glances at azzi’s shooting, in awe of how talented she continues to be. the blonde knew she was good back in USA basketball, so it’s no surprise she’s only gotten better throughout the years.

nika lingers beside paige, focusing on her own shooting. paige leans over, “isn’t she good?”

nika lets out an annoyed sigh, “yes, paige, she’s good. but i already knew that, since you forced us to watch her highlights many times.”

paige laughs at the memory. “no regrets,” she says.

as practice continues, the gym buzzes with energy, but also echoes from coach auriemma’s shouts. azzi finds her groove, hitting shot after shot from beyond the arc. each swish of the net builds her confidence, and she can feel the weight of her nerves lifting with every successful attempt. she earns a pleased look from coach— him raising his eyebrows, nodding his head at her performance.

paige continues to glance at her friend, a mix of admiration and pride shining in her eyes. she can’t help but smile, remembering how much she begged azzi to come to uconn. azzi would groan, complain and say she was still weighing her options. paige never gave up though, and clearly, it worked in her favor.

in the midst of shooting, azzi catches paige staring at her. for a minute, their eyes lock, just observing the other. the younger girl tilts her head, hands on her hips, offering a soft smirk. there’s a spark of connection in the brief moment, and paige feels her pulse quicken.

paige mimics azzi’s gesture, putting her own hands on her hips, raising her eyebrows for a second. azzi bites her lip, trying to suppress her growing grin. she responds with throwing paige a teasing wink and going back to her drills.

the blonde’s lips part— she feels a blush creep up her neck as she’s flustered by azzi’s doing. she shakes it head, attempting to get her out of her mind. but, no surprise, it doesn’t work. when has it ever worked?

the first practice of the season wraps up, and azzi indeed makes a good impression. not only did she consistently hit her shots, but her quick decision-making and teamwork caught the eyes of both the coaches and her teammates. they exchange impressed glances, murmuring about her obvious skills and how seamlessly she integrated into the drills. it was clear that she wasn’t just another player; she brought a new level of intensity and talent that energized the entire team, setting a promising tone for the season ahead.

as each player of the team gather their things and head to the locker room, nika suggests, “you guys wanna come to our dorm later?” she points to aaliyah, another sophomore and also her roommate. “we could use a little team bonding, getting to know the freshies.”

the other teammates nod in agreement, already radiating excitement. azzi feels a sudden warm glow of acceptance as they start making plans, knowing she’s found her place among them. she soon agrees as well, along with paige.

azzi glances back at the older girl, saying a momentary goodbye, before heading off to her and caroline’s dorm. she spends her evening chatting up with carol, sharing laughs and stories. she showers, leaving her wet curls loose, framing her face. she dresses comfortably in a uconn hoodie paired with black sweatpants.

while she’s silently scrolling on her phone, caroline doing the same on her own bed, a text messages appears at the top of her screen. it’s nika, texting in the team group chat. she opens the message: u guys comin?

a smile spreads across azzi’s face as she types a quick response, sharing her and carol will be there soon. she looks over at her friend and raises an eyebrow. “leave in five?”

“good with me,” she nods, quickly returning to her phone.

the five minutes past as if it were one. azzi pulls herself to her feet, letting out a gentle sigh. although she’s excited to hang out with her friends, she’s worn out from practice hours prior and just wants to sleep it off.

she replaces her hoodie with a comfortable but pleasing tank top, showing off a little bit of skin. caroline notices, scoffing to herself. “don’t i know who that’s for,” caroline remarks.

“oh, shut up,” azzi rolls her eyes.

the two girls make their way to nika and aaliyah’s dorm, the hallway buzzing with life as they pass other students.

they approach the door, caroline goes to knock, but it swings open, revealing a very smiley nika. “hey guys!”

“hey,” carol replies. azzi offers a cheeky smile and a small wave.

nika steps aside, allowing them to enter the cozy dorm filled with chatter and laughter. the atmosphere is lively, and azzi feels her spirits lift as she takes in the scene. she looks around the room, spotting aubrey and a few others gathered on the couch, engaging in a conversation.

as caroline and azzi weave through their friends, she suddenly catches sight of paige, who’s laughing heartily at something olivia had said. she meets azzi’s gaze and instantly stands, making her way over to the younger girl.

“hey az!”

azzi smiles, pleased that paige joined her. “how’s it goin’?”

“not too bad, now that you’re here,” she smirks, her arm finding its way around her shoulders, pulling her in close.

“stop,” azzi murmurs, clearly flustered at paige’s response.

paige chuckles quietly, pleased with herself— she loves catching azzi off guard, making her cheeks turn pink. she leans in, lips brushing her ear, “i’m only telling the truth. you’re my favorite person here,” she whispers, then dares to kiss right below her ear.

“paige..” azzi trails off, tilting her head towards the older girl.

paige smirks, loving how riled up azzi is getting. she goes a step further by saying, “i like your top. you look good.” she tugs at the bottom of her tank top, mischief swirling in her eyes.

the pink in azzi’s cheeks become more noticeable. “thanks,” she manages to breath out.

just as paige opens her mouth to add onto their conversation, aaliyah speaks up, her voice echoing, “i think a game of truth or dare is in order. y’know, to get to know each other better.”

“i’m in,” each teammate agrees in unison, nodding their heads. paige takes her hand off azzi, dragging her attention off her, too. the two agree, going to take a seat with the rest of their friends. of course, paige plops right next to the brunette, their thighs slightly touching.

“caroline, truth or dare?” olivia asks.

caroline thinks for a second, “truth.”

“where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?”

“not really that crazy, but in the back of my boyfriend’s car,” caroline replies.

“been there, done that,” nika grins.

the group laughs, not surprised by nika’s commentary. aaliyah turns to azzi, “azzi, truth or dare?”

azzi purses her lips, thinking. “truth.”

“lame,” she swears she hears paige mutter, but chooses to ignore it.

“describe your first kiss and rate it on a scale of 1-10.”

azzi freezes for a moment, not really expecting that type of question. she shifts in her spot, extremely aware of paige next to her, looking at her with curious, knowing eyes. a small smirk lingers on her lips.

“it was really earlier in the morning, and i had previously met up with this guy i thought i liked, which ended horribly, so i was crying. my, um, friend—“ she throws the quickest glance to paige— “was there, and she comforted me and whatnot. anyway, she was saying really nice things to me and i just kissed her. got carried away, i guess,” she laughs awkwardly.

“that’s so cute!” aaliyah coos, her hand dramatically at her chest. “what’s your rating?”

azzi tilts her head to the side, a cocky smirk playing on her full lips. “i’d give it like a six.”

she can practically feel paige’s glare. the girls move onto the next person, asking her a question, yet paige and azzi’s attentions are solely focused on each other.

“are you kidding, a six?” paige whispers, only loud enough for azzi to hear.

azzi shrugs, her teasing grin making paige more aggravated.

“i can do better than a six,” paige insists, still keeping her voice low so the others don’t hear.

azzi leans close, whispering in paige’s ear, “prove it.”

paige’s breath catches in her throat, the challenge hanging in the air. she lifts an eyebrow, her irritation shifting into something more playful. “give me a time and place.”

azzi bites her lip, not entirely surprised at paige’s teasing demeanor. “yeah, you wish.”

yeah, i do, paige wants to say, but holds herself back. she turns her attention back on the end, already wishing she could go back to her dorm, hoping to get some sleep. although her mind consumed with thoughts revolving azzi tells her she’s probably not getting much.

first game of the season and azzi hasn’t felt more nervous in her life. the stadium is packed with screaming fans and families of the team, the buzz of excited chatter vibrating through the air as she stands at the edge of the corner, in her uconn #35 jersey. she glances around at her teammates, each one radiating confidence having done with game before, but the weight of expectations presses heavily on her.

paige naturally knows azzi is stressed, regardless of her calm expression. she grabs her arm, causing azzi to stop in her tracks. “you’ll do great, az,” she nods, reassuring the younger girl.

azzi nods back, grateful she has paige by her side. the blonde gives azzi a gentle squeeze on her arm, before the starting five takes the court.

before azzi knows it, the whistle blows, and the ball is throw up into the air. she takes a deep breath, trying to steady her erratic heartbeat. paige gets the first hands on the ball, beginning to dribble it down the court. the minute she throws it to azzi who starts off the game with hitting an impressive 3 pointer, the freshman feels a rush of adrenaline and lets her confidence cloud any nerves.

midway through the third quarter, azzi’s earned herself a total of 15 points so far. paige has 17, and continues to rack up more assists.

olivia bounces it to paige— she catches it smoothly, scanning the court for an opening. azzi positions herself, ready to receive another pass. but just as paige makes her move, an opposing player charges in, trying to steal the basketball. in a split second, paige pivots, dodging the defender with a quick feint.

however, the opposing player’s momentum sends her crashing into paige, who stumbles back, crashing to the floor. azzi watches as paige hits the ground hard, the breath knocked out of her.

azzi jogs over— trying her best not to make her concern so obvious for everyone to see— to paige who continues to lay on the ground, pain etched across her face.

“paige, you okay?” she asks, voiced laced with concern for her friend. she leans over who, eyebrows drawn down.

paige winces but manages a weak smile. “only that would happen to me first game,” she jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“seriously, do you need help getting up?” azzi questions.

paige figures she could use the help, so she nods; with azzi’s support, she pushes herself up. azzi keeps a firm grip on her arm, steadying her as she rises. “i’m all good, az,” paige assures her, though her breath is still slightly shaky.

the whistle blows and the game pauses briefly as coach auriemma checks on paige. azzi lingers nearby, her heart racing from both the intensity of the game and paige’s close call.

paige shakes off any pain, focusing back onto the game. “you scared me for a second,” azzi admits softly.

the corners of paige’s lips quirk up, “aw, you worried about me?”

azzi rolls her eyes at paige’s snarky comment, pushing her shoulder. as the game resumes, she positions herself to receive the ball again, ready to finish off the remaining minutes.

paige’s competitive spirit flares as she focuses on the game. the clock ticks down, and azzi, fueled by adrenaline, makes a swift move, adding onto the score— which is already high enough as is— at the final second. the buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the game. the crowd erupts into chants and cheers, calling the players names, dying for their attention.

the five on the floor, along with the bench, line up, going to high five the opposing team. after showing respect, the uconn team heads back into the locker room, where the atmosphere is electric with pride, soaking in their first win. paige, still buzzing from the game, turns to azzi with wide eyes.

“how are you so fucking good?” paige shakes her head, her brain rewinding all the buckets azzi had made today. her countless jumpers, impressive 3 pointers, easy layups.

“i should be asking you that,” azzi smiles as she packs up her basketball gear.

paige scoffs, playfully rolling her blue eyes.

as the players are getting ready to head out, olivia leans against the wall, “y’all wanna hit up ted’s later? around 8? to y’know, celebrate the win.”

“just say you want to drink,” nika remarks.

“fine— i want a damn drink. anyone else?” olivia admits.

the girls agree, nodding enthusiastically. after a long day, they could definitely use a little winding down.

making their way out of the room, paige grabs azzi’s arm, dragging her backwards. “wanna go to my dorm?”

azzi purses her lips, “and do what?”

“i don’t know, just chill? i wanna hang out with you,” paige whines.

“you’re such a sap,” azzi giggles but lets paige take her away to her room. she quickly shoots caroline a text, saying she’s going over paige’s before they all head to the bar.

paige lets the arm on azzi’s fall to her hand, holding it but not quite intertwining their fingers. as they reach the door, the older girl turns the key and opens the door, pulling azzi in by her hand.

unexpectedly, paige doesn’t stop pulling the brunette until their bodies are against each other’s, flopping on the bed together.

paige wraps her arms around her frame, squeezing her tightly like she’s done so many times before.

“what’s this for?” azzi asks, voice coming out muffled as she’s nuzzled against paige’s neck.

“i’m just happy to be playing with you again. i’ve missed it,” she murmurs.

azzi’s fingers grip paige’s jersey, lips barely an inch away from the skin on her neck. she knew how paige loves neck kisses, all she wanted to do was—

“az?”

she looks up, eyes twinkling, “yeah?”

“what are you thinking about?”

azzi opens her lips, as if she’s about to speak. when she doesn’t find the words, she closes her mouth, but eventually says, “nothing.. i don’t know,” she nuzzles deeper into paige, “you. everything you are.”

paige stills. “what do you mean?”

“just.. the type of person you are. the way you play, how you support everyone, being kind even when you have no right to be. you’re just so.. everything. you’re everything,” she admits, her voice low as she grips paige’s shirt harder, “there’s not one thing i don’t like about you.”

paige feels her breath hitch, her heart racing at an abnormal rate. she leans back enough to search azzi’s dark eyes, a mix of surprise and vulnerability reflected back at her. without thinking— similar to the past times like this— paige closes their distance and starts showering azzi with kisses all over her cheeks and forehead.

azzi chuckles, her other hand coming up to rest on paige’s back. she squirms under the affection, but paige only continues, planting slower kisses on her temples and nose, reveling in the warmth of the moment. she dares to let her lips trail down her jawline, sucking ever so slightly, before moving to azzi’s neck. she connects her soft lips to every inch of her skin, expressing her way of appreciation towards the younger girl’s words. god, did she love her.

“az…” a kiss, “i..” another sloppy kiss, “fucking..” another, “love..” yet another, “you.”

azzi’s eyes widen slightly, surprise flooding her features. she bites her lips, trying to suppress a grin. “oh, stop it,” she giggles, clearly not taking paige’s words seriously. paige doesn’t love her like that— the way azzi loves her. she can’t, can she?

paige pulls back, a pang of hurt spreading through her chest. it’s no shocker azzi doesn’t say it back, let alone take her seriously. even though she means every last word.

the duo change out of their game gear and into cozier clothing. they settle into paige’s bed, propping themselves up with pillows. they decide on a movie— a romcom, how fitting— to watch before heading out. azzi, being the type of girl she is, quickly falls asleep against paige’s shoulder, not lasting five minutes once the movie began. paige takes the time to observe azzi’s natural beauty; her soft lips that she desperately misses, her curls pulled back into braids, her peaceful expression. she plops a long kiss to her forehead before returning her attention to the movie, letting the freshman get her much needed rest.

after the movie ends, paige picks up her phone checking the time— nearly 8:15 in the afternoon. she gently shakes azzi until her eyelids start to flutter open.

“time to get up,” paige whispers.

“why?” azzi mumbles, still half asleep. she rolls over, snuggling deeper in the blanket.

“we said we’d go to ted’s,” she says, “they’re probably already there.”

azzi groans, rubbing her sleepy eyes. reluctantly, she drags herself out of paige’s bed, walking straight to her closet. azzi borrows a white tank top from the older’s girl clothing, paired with black sweatpants she had previously changed into. paige keeps her outfit the same— a uconn hoodie with similar sweatpants. however, she makes sure to clip on the silver cross necklace azzi had gotten her for her 19th birthday, when she turned away.

they head out of the dorm, making their way towards the front doors. the night air cool against their skin, a mix of energy and thrill buzzing between them. paige can’t help but steal short glances at azzi, dragging her eyes over her outfit of choice that does her good in all the right areas.

walking into the bar, the pair scans the crowd in search of the familiar faces belonging to their teammates. the lively atmosphere hits them— a swirl of laughter, music and the clicking of glasses.

“paige! azzi!” nika’s voice cuts through the ongoing conversations around them, calling them over.

they make their way towards their table, eyeing a cluster of their teammates, drinks in hand and animatedly chatting. they greet their friends with warm smiles and playful banter as they settle in empty chairs, right next to each other. the table orders another round of shots; each player takes one, feeling the burn down their throat.

after a few minutes of easy conversation and more shots, azzi leans in closer to paige, her voice barely audible over the loud music. “wanna get another drink?”

“hell yeah,” paige nods. she places her hand on azzi’s lower back, guiding her through the dancing crowd.

“can i please have a dirty shirley temple?” paige politely asks the bartender, leaning against the counter slightly.

azzi does the same, but turns to face paige. “i’ll have the same.”

the bartender nods, throwing the towel over his shoulder and reaching for two clean glasses. paige catches azzi’s gaze, “what?”

azzi smirks, feeling a little tipsy by this point. “you’re really pretty, you know that?”

paige feels her cheeks heat at the compliment, both surprise and flattery washing over her. “you are, az. you’re the one turning heads tonight.”

azzi laughs softly, the sound warm and inviting. “not like i care,” she raises her eyebrows.

“why is that?” paige tilts her head.

azzi’s eyes rack over paige’s frame, taking in every inch of her, “just not interested in anyone.”

paige hums, trying to hide for disappointment. a minute later they gather their drinks, thanking the bartender. azzi leans in, her lips brushing paige’s ear, “unless you wanna change my mind?”

paige stills, her heart racing at the challenge in azzi’s voice. she grips the brunette’s free hand with her own, dragging her back to their table in the far corner. she positions herself against the wall, azzi right in front of her. she takes a long sip of her shirley, before setting it down on the table beside her.

paige searches azzi’s eyes as azzi follows her movements, taking a drink from her own. the blonde takes a breath, the air thick with anticipation and tension. she leans forward, her voice low, “maybe i will.”

azzi meets her gaze, a teasing smile playing at her lips. “and how would you do that?”

the words hang in the air, charged with possibility. paige remains quiet, eyes exploring azzi’s frame. her gaze roams over her chest, the slight cleavage showing and her tanned stomach.

“why so quiet, paige? did i—“

“stop talking,” paige states before closing the gap between them, connecting their lips in a deliberate, firm kiss. god, did she miss the feel of azzi’s lips on hers.

azzi wraps her arm around her waist, pulling the older girl closer. paige groans into her mouth— azzi responds almost instinctively, deepening the kiss and adding her tongue in the mix.

“god, az,” paige whimpers, pulling azzi impossibly closer. she feels the alcohol coursing through her veins, although this kiss— for her, atleast— has nothing to do with being a little drunk.

azzi hums against her lips, tugging her ponytail gently. she pulls back, disconnecting their lips, but still close enough so their foreheads are touching.

“hey, remember that one time you rated our kiss a six?” paige says, smiling.

azzi lets out an airy laugh, the corners of her lips rising, “yeah.”

“would you say this one was better?”

azzi grips the blonde’s arm, “maybe like an eight.”

paige’s lips gap, “oh, fuck you,” her voice full of sarcasm, pushing azzi’s face gently away.

azzi chuckles, removing her touch from the older girl. paige rolls her eyes but can’t suppress her nagging grin. they linger in the moment, the tension still crackling in the air. as if a switch flipped, the mood shifts.

“okay.. let’s not make this weird,” azzi says, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest.

paige masks her disappointment with a nod. “right, we’re drunk— we’ll probably forget it tomorrow.”

azzi forces a smile, her cheeks still flushed from their kiss. they resume their casual banter, but an unspoken understanding lingers around them. the thrill of the moment dances around them, even as they act like nothing has changed.

azzi chats with nika, growing farther and farther from the blonde. but paige’s mind still remains with azzi as she watches her interact with others. she tries to fool herself by repeating over and over she’ll forget their kiss by tomorrow, but she knows she won’t ever forget— she can’t.

[viiennie]

𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

Premiere

Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Tags and warnings: Zombie Apocalypse, mentions of gore (including blood and death), slight angst (?), spoilers to ‘Happiness’, eventual smut, female reader, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, lovey dovey sex in the midst of a literal lock down, masturbation, slow burn kinda?, fluff, romance, drugs, manipulation, exhibition, gojo is a pervertttttt, mdni — 18+

In the midst of a world unraveling at the seams, where survival hangs by the thinnest thread, two unlikely souls collide. You, one of South Korea’s most seasoned soldiers, find yourself tasked with a mission that feels almost too absurd to be real—a bodyguard to a CEO’s spoiled son, Gojo Satoru.

The world outside is crumbling, but inside the walls of an upscale penthouse, the only battle seems to be against the daily monotony of a grown man who doesn’t want to be babysat. He’s constantly getting on your nerves, teasing you and making fun of you every chance he gets. Ignore the way he gets overprotective over you, and the way he’s slowly starting to look at you with those dreamy soft eyes? Yeah, out of sight, out of mind. Besides, there’s no way an idiot like him could possibly feel love, right?

This is insane. Absolutely fucking nuts. 

Getting stuck in this stupid penthouse, with its stupid owner and his stupid smile is the worst thing that has happened to you all your life. You regret taking that stupid job to babysit this insufferable manchild, but what could you possibly do when faced with a 15 million won pay? It was irresistible in your very much money desperate eyes. Besides, what was 3 simple days of making sure a guy didn’t die in his own house, right?

God, you wish you could turn back time and slap the absolute shit out of yourself.

Because here you are, two days in, and the universe decides to throw in a plot twist no amount of training could’ve prepared you for. A virus. Not just a normal, everyday outbreak, but one that makes people turn rabid, lose their minds, and tear into others like animals. Two days in, and the news breaks that the city is locking down. Quarantine zones are popping up faster than you can count, and you? You’re stuck in this high-rise hellhole with him.

Gojo Satoru.

The man is a walking nightmare. A grinning, infuriating, insufferable nightmare who has spent every second of your time here testing the limits of your patience. You barely survived the last 48 hours, and now you’re supposed to last a whole week? You’d rather sign up for a solo mission in a war zone than endure another second of his antics.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Gojo drawls from the couch, his voice dripping with that obnoxious charm he wears like a second skin. “Don’t act all sad. I know you’re absolutely ecstatic deep down to be stuck here with the world’s most handsome living man. It’s a dream come true, isn’t it?”

You glare at him, clutching the mug of lukewarm coffee in your hands like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. The temptation to chuck it at his stupidly perfect face is strong. Very strong.

“Shut up,” you snap, narrowing your eyes. “I’d rather French kiss a cockroach than spend one more minute with you.”

chapter one

a/n: This fanfic is inspired by the kdrama series, “Happiness.” I’ve based the infection off of the show, as well as the supporting characters. Unfortunately, I have decided not to add other jjk characters in the main storyline. They do exist in this verse, however they are only briefly mentioned and don’t really play big roles. Anyway, comment if you wanna be in the taglist! Only adding 30 people to the said list, hehe

p.s do not plagiarize my content.

[emjayewrites]

Private Landing - Before the Finale...

I know that I'm OOO but wanted to post this really quick:

Before I post the final chapter and epilogue to this series, I just want to send out a heartfelt thank you to all the readers who enjoyed this.

Originally, this was supposed to be like 10 chapters max, but that wouldn't do Rorie & Lewis' story justice - neither will giving up & stop posting updates due to my frustration about engagement, etc. Safe to say, I gotten too invested and that happens a lot when an author falls in love with the characters.

I know that this is RPF and it can be a bit too much to create fake scenarios about real people but I feel differently.

Now, let's see if you guys peep this:

What's in a name? Names play an important role in stories and this time is no different. Were you guys paying attention? The name of Lewis' production company is Dawn Apollo Films - hmm, I wonder who this company was named after? Aurora means 'dawn' in Latin and Lyric's middle name is...Apollo. Larke Atlas is also important as well - her name means 'songbird' and 'Atlas' after the Titan of Greek mythology who supported the heavens and whose picture appeared at the front of early atlases (maps). Apollo is also Greek, for the God of music and poetry (in case you have forgotten, Rorie and Lewis bonded/fell in love over their shared adoration for music.

Tattoos: Lewis has spoken a lot about how his tattoos have deep meanings so I kept up with that and referenced his tats a lot - the 'A' on his fingers can be denoted for Aurora ('Rorie'), the constellation Corona/Aurora Borealis also known as the Northern Crown is also tatted on his hands (can be another tribute to Rorie) and he has various zodiac signs as well like Leo (for Lyric) and Cancer (Rorie).

There were also other Easter eggs, but I'm curious to know your thoughts on it.

Anyway, I wanted to create a story that gives the good, the bad, and the ugly of celebrity and being an F1 driver's significant other and also highlights strong relationships between friends and family.

Thank you all again for loving Rorie, Lewis, Lyric, and Larke just as much as I have.

@boujiestpoet @cocobutterqwueen @yeea-nah @alika-4466 @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @motheroffae @saturnville @weetjy @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @niahxo @purplelewlew @f1-football-fiend @imjustheretomanifest @gg-trini @kinggbl @iamryanl @mitruscity @nichmeddar @xoscar03 @eugene-emt-roe @cherry2stems @louvrepool @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1 @lewisroscoelove

And any others who supported/loved this series!

[diangelodork]

hey folks. guess who’s calling my local clinic tomorrow to make an appointment for medical transition stuff??

AAAAA i’m so nervous- it took me a long time to understand that i want to go on T because of a lot of external factors which pushed me to feminize myself subconsciously and make myself believe i was closer to the middle of the gender spectrum than i actually am (firmly leaning toward masculinity).

now, i don’t know if i’ll be able to afford it, and i don’t think my health insurance will cover it, but i will be starting to set money aside for this. i wanted to announce that all the profits i make from selling my dbda merch will be going toward my transition. thank you so much to everyone who has purchased from me in the past. thank you for helping me toward this goal. thank you.

i don’t mean to push anything on anyone at all, but i will be linking the my dbda merch designs to this post in case you decide that you want to help support my journey. if not, i would just love to have your verbal and emotional support.

ik this isn’t very related to dbda, but this community and the people in it helped me learn a lot about myself and i just want to thank you all so much for that. sorry for tagging w dbda stuff despite the little relevance, but i want yall to know that i wouldn’t be able to even consider scheduling a consultation were it not for yall. thank you. i love you guys.

[zepskies]

Aww yay!! I'm so happy to hear that. 🥹💗

so far what I love the most about this series-verse is how, authentic and genuine dean and mila’s relationship is <3 I think maybe I mentioned it when reviewing THC but truly their love feels so sincere 🤍🤍

Omg thank you!! What an amazing compliment, and now I'm blushing. 🥰🥰 With everything these two went through in THC, I wanted their connection to feel real and natural now as they continue learning each other.

I feel like in today’s day & age relationships can be so complicated because there are too many trivial outside factors, but for them in this universe, it’s really just as simple as two people who care a lot for each other making it work. and i absolutely love that 😭💗

Oh God yes, totally agree. 🙃 And there are complications around Mila and Dean, but when it's just the two of them, Dean gets her to remember that them choosing to be together can be as simple or complicated as they allow it to be. It's a choice, day by day, working together. 💕💕

they’re so sweet to each other :’)🫶🏽 even when he puts his foot in his mouth; as soon as he made that comment when learning about the chief I shook my head lol, oh dean 😂

Ahaha he's trying his best. Oh Dean. 😝

But he's so damn charming and adorable, she can't help but let him back into her good graces.

mystery dude better back up!🤺 I do not trust that man at all so far, he gave me such a bad vibe :/ for his sake he better not try anything because not only will dean protect his wife, mila is clearly not to be messed with 🤣 which brings me back to how much I admire her strength! I love that she will speak up for what matters.

He's being sneaky about it, isn't he? 😒 But YES, if Mila doesn't mess him up first, Dean definitely will. 💞 Mila's not one to take things sitting down either.

the thought of dean getting picked on makes me so sad because it’s like, classic bullying :((( I wanna hug him so bad. especially since it’s already been so hard leaving everything and everyone he had behind — the weight of hazing & hard judgement on top of adjusting to everything new must be draining :( honestly I admire his strength too i’m glad she’s providing him with the support he deserves 🫶🏽 because yeah even though he can handle it, he shouldn’t have to ✋🏽😔

Ikr? 😭😭 Dean doesn't deserve this at all, considering how hard he's working to be respectful to their customs, but it's kind of par for the course (he's honestly lucky they let him live). It will get better for him (eventually), but you're right, it is draining for him, even if he doesn't want to admit it to Mila. She's doing her best to be his support system. 💞

also, I did not expect baby x mato but you know what, i’m here for it 😭🙂‍↕️

omgg I was hoping someone would like that part. 😂😂 I honestly didn't plan it when I was writing THC, but it came out when I started developing Outlander. I thought it was a cute lil' tidbit, and it's actually going to play more into the plot later. 😉💗

I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming for this little series!!

Outlander - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? 

AN: Ready for some more Cowboy Dean? Here we go with Outlander Part 1! This is a sequel story directly following The Honorable Choice, where Dean not only saves the member of a Native American tribe, but falls in love with her. (She saves him a lot in return.) Now, he’ll have to learn how to live in her world if he wants to stay with her.

This sequel series will be 4 parts! 💜

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Suggestiveness/implied smut and spice, hunting (in the more traditional sense), angst, hurt/comfort, and romantic fluff. **Pronunciation guide at the end!

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: Two Worlds

Her people call this river Little Cheyenne. It’s because Big Cheyenne cuts through the land of the Sioux Indians by half, but Little Cheyenne almost meets it in the south, stretching all the way up to the Black Hills.

Mila’s tribe has always lived near this river. Its waters have bled red during battles with other tribes, and sometimes during battles with White Men.

The White Men’s fort, the one her husband came from, lies farther down in the south. The tribe had to move their village higher north along the river after Mila returned with Dean Winchester, just to be safe.

On a cloudy afternoon, Mila scrubs at a bundle of dirty clothes until they’re clean. She rinses them off in the river and is thorough about her work, but she knows she can’t be here much longer. She has a stew simmering on hot coals in her tipi…

Well, the one she now shares with her husband.

Unconsciously, she smiles. She remembers leading Dean through the tribe, to the place where she hoped he would find rest. They stopped at the foot of her tipi. 

“This one’s yours?” he asked.

She paused, giving him another small smile. 

“Ours.”

Mila continues scrubbing, though she frowns when her fingers slip through a tear in one of the new tunics she made for him (even though he keeps calling it a shirt). The tear was made by a blade, or maybe an arrowhead, she realizes. 

The crunch of feet on the riverbed’s gravel makes her raise her head and look over her shoulder. Unease prickles down her spine. She braces herself for a familiar shadow, come to disturb her peace.    

But then she relaxes. She’s being joined by two of the older women in her tribe. Mila has known them her whole life, and so she calls them tunwin. Aunt. They both greet her kindly and kneel beside her with their own bundles of clothes for washing, but Eyota, the older one, has a sharper eye. She is their tribe’s medicine woman. 

“Your husband wears out his clothes,” she remarks.

“He’s been working hard training with Šóta and the other men,” Mila explains.

“He seems to be learning quickly,” says Misae. She has a more playful glint in her eyes. “Who knew that you could catch and tame a White Man. Looks like they are no different from wild horses.”

Mila smiles slightly, but it’s not genuine. She nods in agreement. “He’s learning quickly.”

She holds her tongue from saying anything else, even though she wants to. Dean isn’t a man to be tamed, any more than she was, in his people’s eyes. She aims to change the subject. 

“Do you have any good herbs or spices for wahonpi? I’ve had the stew simmering all morning,” she asks Eyota. Not only is she a gifted healer, but Eyota is also one of the best cooks, and she knows it. She nods and straightens her shoulders the way she always does when someone asks her for advice—and even when they don’t ask for it.

“Of course, child. What you need is…”

“Goddamn it,” Dean huffs under his breath.

The jackrabbit flees from him again, or more accurately, from his terribly aimed arrow. He’s an excellent marksman…just not with a bow, it seems.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong here, and he’s not likely to figure it out. Not by the way Takoda, Šóta, and the other men are laughing at him.

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows when he’s being hazed.

These men are bare-chested warriors, each of them richly tanned under the sun. Most of them wear their hair long, half of it gathered high on their heads, or braided in some way. Šóta is his wife’s cousin, and as the Chief’s son, he wears a small adornment of eagle feathers threaded into his hair. His closest friends are Takoda and Otaktay. Both of them laugh at Dean the most, and in their language, using just enough gestures and body language that Dean knows he’s being talked about. They point at his boots and his brown Stetson hat—two of the only things he’s kept of his own that make him feel comfortable in his own skin.

Finally, Šóta goes over to him. “Good try,” he says, in his usual patronizing tone.

Dean knows he can’t punch out Mila’s cousin, no matter how bad he’s asking for it. Somehow, Dean manages to hold onto his temper.

“What’re they saying?” he asks lowly, gesturing at the two chuckle brothers.

Šóta’s lips twitch. He glances down at Dean’s feet. “They say your…shoes are loud on the earth. You give yourself away before the animal even catches your scent.”

Dean’s given up a lot of things, but his boots won’t be one of them. He wants to learn. He wants to belong here, in Mila’s world, but he also wants to stay himself.

So the men move on, mounting their horses. Dean rides with Baby at a plodding clip. Her black coat ripples with a healthy sheen. He thinks she’s come to enjoy the more natural surroundings and freer pasture of the grasslands, and he can’t deny, this part of it all feels right. The sun peeks through between the dappled leaves of oak trees, painting the ground in red, green, and gold. It’s quiet and beautiful here as Šóta leads the pack through the forest, just southwest of the village.

Eventually, he stops them between a denser thatch of trees and shrub. He raises a hand signal that Dean’s come to recognize. He raises his bow belatedly after the others though. He follows Šóta’s line of vision, and there is a deer grazing in a small clearing. A young buck.

Šóta signals at Dean. Try again, his eyes say.

Dean takes in a deep, quiet breath through his nose, and he takes aim.

He really misses his damn rifle.

Dean shoulders the sting of failure while he makes his way through the camp, leading Baby by the reigns. He drops her off at the large horse pen. There he feeds her and brushes her long coat, all while murmuring soft affectionate things. She’s still one of his only friends here.

But even she leaves him short to join her new friend, Mato. The two have become thick as thieves. Mato greets the black mare with a friendly whinny. Their noses touch in affection, and Mato playfully nips at her ear.

Dean raises his brows. “Well, that’s a little more friendly than usual. You guys start courting when I wasn’t looking?”

He walks over to Mato, who’s softened up to him in recent weeks.

“You sly dog,” Dean remarks, smirking. “Didn’t even ask me for her hand.”

Mato blows a hot breath through his nose at Dean, who has to blink, wiping his face.

“Now that’s just rude.” Still, he offers the mustang an apple from his pocket. Mato takes it from his palm, letting Dean rub his neck while he munches on his snack. “As fathers-in-law go, you lucked out, pal. See? I’m a delight.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Baby had her first foal by spring. Dean grins at the thought, but it soon falls. If only his father-in-law were so easy to please.

His mind dwells on it as he starts making his way back to the heart of the village. Chatan, Mila’s father, hasn’t warmed up to him any better than Šóta or the other men. Tahatan is the only one of them who treats Dean civilly, and overall, he seems to be a good leader.

Dean has that thought, just when he sees the older man himself walking with a woman Dean sort of recognizes. She wears a long necklace made of blue beads and seashells. Tahatan goes into her tipi, even though Dean knows…that woman isn’t the Chief’s wife.

Dean raises his brows, but he subtly pivots on his heel and takes a different route back to his own tipi. Whatever he just saw, it’s definitely not his business.

“Honey, I’m home,” he teases.

She welcomes him into her arms, her hands traveling warmly up his shoulders. He bends to kiss her, soft and slow at first. And then deeper, sucking on her lower lip and teasing her with a sensuous tongue. She hums in surprise into his mouth, making him smile.

He’s exhausted and feeling low, but he doesn’t want to let on to her. He just wants to forget about his day, and hopefully recharge with a better night.

“How did it go today?” she asks, after he allows her to breathe.

Dean nods (and lies). “Pretty good.”

She waits for him to continue. When he just continues to hold her, she raises her brows up at him.

“Dean?”

“What? I’m workin’ on archery. Lots of progress.”

She eyes him in suspicion, and he knows he doesn’t have her fooled. Actually, she looks like she’s going to press him about it, so he releases her from his hold and goes to change out of his dirty clothes to avoid her gaze.

“Hey, uh, maybe it’s none of my business, but I saw the Chief go into some other woman’s tent today. Holding hands, bedroom eyes, the whole deal,” he says while he changes. He glances back at her and waggles his brows. Mila smiles slightly.

“Did she wear her hair in a half-braid, or did she wear a necklace made of seashells?” she asks.

Dean’s surprised that she doesn’t seem surprised, but he thinks back to what he saw.

“Uh, seashells. Yeah, she wore seashells,” he says.

Mila nods. “Yes, that woman is also his…the chiefs of my people are known to take more than one wife.”

At that, Dean becomes even more surprised. He finishes dressing and leaves his boots by the tipi’s entrance. His raised brows even out into a smirk.

“Well, okay. Guess it’s good to be Chief,” he says.

Mila’s lips purse as she eyes him narrowly. She goes back to stirring the stew with a wide, wooden spoon. Dean doesn’t see her reaction, but he does notices that something’s missing from his side of the bedding. He frowns.

“Hey, where’s my gun?” He asks Mila, who shakes her head without looking at him.

“I moved it,” she curtly replies.

Dean’s frown deepens. He touches her arm to get her attention.

“I’d rather you didn’t do that, baby,” he says. He’s made sure that she knows the basics of a gun well enough, but he doesn’t want to take the chance of her hurting herself.

“Don’t leave it out, then,” she snips back. “It shouldn’t go where we sleep.”

Dean tilts his head at her. He’s a bit confused at her tone, especially because they’ve had this conversation before.

“I have it there just in case something happens at night,” he reminds her. His pistol is really just for emergencies though. There are only three bullets left in it, and he can’t exactly go shopping for more. 

Dean realizes then that Mila’s mood has shifted. He approaches her from behind.

“What’s wrong, huh?” His hands find familiar purchase along the curve of her waist. He swipes her braid away and presses a kiss where her neck meets her shoulder. More teasingly, he asks, “What’d I do now?”

Mila remains tight-lipped, until she glances at him over her shoulder.

“Do you want another woman?” she asks.

It’s a simple question, but it succeeds in completely tripping him up. He blinks at her, incredulous and bewildered.

“What?”

She continues shredding another herb to put into the stew. Somehow, it makes the broth smell a bit worse. 

“You seem to admire the Chief for having three wives, so you must want another one too,” she says.

Holy shit, three wives? Dean wonders. The man must be a saint. Look at the hell I’m catching with one.

He can’t help but laugh, a deep belly chuckle that does nothing to take away Mila’s ire. She glares at him now, genuinely upset, and Dean knows he’s starting to shit the bed on this one. He sobers up and raises his hands in surrender.

“Sweetheart,” he says, in a placating tone.

Despite her annoyance, she allows him to hold her again. He plies her with more tantalizing kisses along her neck. He breathes in the sweet-smelling oil she uses on her hair.

“You’re more than enough woman for me. You know that, right?” he whispers against her skin. It earns her slight shudder, and he smiles. He teases the spot just under her ear, grazing with his teeth, then soothing with his tongue. She can’t help but writhe against him a bit. It stirs a well of desire in his lower belly, especially when he squeezes her hips, pressing himself to her from behind.

She tries to remain strong as she clears her throat, no doubt feeling his growing hardness against her. She starts to blush hotly.

“It’s all I can do just to make sure you stay sweet for me,” Dean says, a hint of teasing returned to his voice.

Mila finally breaks into a laugh. She reaches back to swat him on the head, but his ministrations work. Once she manages to escape from his grasp with a teasing smile of her own, she more happily serves him a bowl of stew.

Dean smirks. Fine, he can be patient. He’ll just have to wait until dessert, then. After a moment to calm himself, he sits down on the ground beside her and brings a large spoonful of stew to his lips. There, he pauses. The strange taste that assaults his tongue nearly makes him choke, but he does his best to swallow it down. The meat’s tough as nails, for Christ’s sake…

Hearing a spoon clatter against the bowl, he chances glancing at Mila. She sits stock still, her brows furrowed as she frowns. Slowly, she sets the bowl down and says,

“Stop eating.”

She looks angry at herself. Dean feels bad for her, his sympathy striking at his chest.

“What do you mean? I’m hungry,” he says, and gamely takes another couple of bites.

She just watches him. Her upset worsens while he tries and fails to cover up a hacking cough.

Finally, Mila can stand no more. She takes the bowl from him, making some of the foul broth slosh over their hands and onto the ground. She tried to make wahonpi, one of the most basic soups in her people’s culture, made from bison, potatoes, corn, and carrots stewed in the broth.

Eyota told me it was simple! she thinks in dismay. How did it go so wrong?

“It’s no good,” she says, her voice hard. “I will go to my mother and see what she cooked. She may have extra for us.”

She rises to her feet, and Dean quickly follows her. He catches sight of her tears, even though she turns her face away from him to grab her shoes. He reaches out and stops her with a hand on her arm. He tugs her back to face him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Why’re you getting so upset?” he says. “I’m not picky. I’ll eat whatever you make.”

Or maybe next time, I’ll try doing the cooking, he thinks.

“Because!” she blurts. Tears well up in her eyes and begin to slip down her cheeks, no matter how much she tries to brush them away. “Because you shouldn’t have to eat it. Because it should be good. You deserve to eat something good!”

Mila finally realizes why her mother tried so hard to teach her these things. She’s embarrassed, feeling sorry for herself, but it’s also far worse than that. Her heart hurts knowing what Dean has gone through, and what he continues to go through for her sake. The least she could do is make sure he eats well, and it seems she can’t even do that.

“Mila,” he says with a sigh. He guides her into his embrace. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

She can’t allow herself to be comforted. She pushes at his chest to look up at him.

“You think I don’t know what happens outside?” she says. “It’s a small village, and people talk when they think I’m not listening. I know what the men are doing to you.”

Dean shakes his head stubbornly. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“You should not have to,” she insists, resting a hand over his heart. “You have proven yourself to be a man of honor. Tahatan said it himself. They should not be this way.” 

Dean smiles ruefully. “I can handle it.” 

He bows his head and captures her lips, plying her with a deeper kiss. The heat of it grows and becomes more than a distraction, more than comfort. It strips everything else away, until it’s just the two of them again, like the night she found him at the riverbank and held him until he woke up in her arms.

What they eat doesn’t matter. Other people don’t matter. All that matters is this.

He squeezes her hips and presses her harder against him, so she can feel every part of his desire. She moans into his mouth, curling her fingers into his shirt. So he guides her down to the bedding, where he shows her what he’d rather get a taste of.

Later that evening, Mila and Dean have dinner with her parents. Her mother, Weaya, is a gracious host, treating Dean both like a guest and a proper son-in-law. She gives him a special cut of braised bison meat, not to mention extra corn and potato hash. Chatan says nothing to him and eats in gruff, stoic silence. 

Dean can tell it both hurts and annoys his wife, but he has to focus on answering Weaya’s many questions about his life—mainly about his family and the farm he grew up on. In some ways, raising crops and rearing up cows, chickens, and horses there isn’t so different from the Lakota village.  

“You must miss that place. Your home,” she says. Dean meets his mother-in-law’s eyes, pausing in polishing off the meat sauce on his plate with a piece of bread. Chatan looks up from his meal, and so does Mila, who hesitates too. He sees the thread of her concern there, behind her eyes, so Dean hides the stab of sadness that hits him every time he thinks of Lawrence. 

“Sometimes,” he admits. He looks over at Mila. “But I’m not alone. That’s what matters.”

She smiles at him softly. Dean has the urge to take her hand, maybe raise it up to his lips, but he’ll leave that for when they’re alone. He doesn’t want to upset her father any more than he has just by sitting in Chatan’s house. Tent…whatever.

He’s glad when, after almost another hour and a round of hot tea, Mila finishes chatting with her mother and stands. It means they can finally get the hell out of here. No disrespect to her parents, but with so much change happening so quickly, Dean had been able to put Lawrence out of his mind for a while. Tonight he thinks about his mom and his brother more than makes him comfortable on their way through the village. He follows Mila inside their tipi, then starts up a candle while she gets ready to rest for the evening. 

Living here is like going back in time—before the lantern, before indoor plumbing and the water heater. It’s not a huge hardship for Dean, who’s spent a lot of his life sleeping on hard, dusty ground, or military bases with less than most modern amenities, but it’s still another adjustment. 

He undresses down to his pants and settles down to the bedding and furs, waiting for his wife. She kneels beside him after undressing down to just her shift. He lays on his back with an arm tucked behind his head, and he watches her unbind her long, dark hair, undoing the braid from the bottom strands. She has this concentrated look on her face, like her mind is far away, even though she’s right here next to him. He threads his fingers through her loose hair while she works, giving her a smile.   

“You okay?” he asks. 

Mila pauses. She lets her tresses escape from her fingers and reaches for him, laying her hand on his chest. Dean holds it there and finally allows himself to press a kiss into her palm. 

I’m sorry, is what she wants to say, but she knows he’ll only reply, For what?

So she lowers down and slips into his warm embrace, as if this can make them both forget the day. She rests her cheek over his beating heart. 

“You will never be alone,” she promises. 

Dean quirks a smile. Instead of answering, he brushes her cheek tenderly with his hand, and he closes his eyes. A few deep breaths later, and he finds sleep.

The candle slowly flickers out.   

On most nights, Mila falls asleep before Dean, and so his light snores don’t bother her. Tonight, even though she’s tried, she can’t tune out his rumbles. Or maybe it’s her own mind she can’t tune out.

She carefully maneuvers out of his hold and slips on her shoes. Maybe the moon will give her clarity tonight. 

She pushes open the front flap of the tent and steps out into the cooler air. She looks up at the moon’s white-blue glow, a wide crescent peeking out from between two large clouds. A strong breeze tugs at her hair and flutters her lashes when she closes her eyes. She crosses her arms when goosebumps spread across her tan skin.

“What troubles you, Kimmímila?”

The voice is steady and male, and all too familiar. Still, the intrusion startles her. Her eyes fly open wide and she jolts, inhaling sharply. She frowns when she realizes it’s him. 

“What are you doing? It’s late,” she says.

He steps out from the shadows with his pipe in hand. He smells strongly of tobacco. Her father and uncle smoke as well, but she doesn’t like it herself. She’s glad Dean doesn’t either.  

“Easing my mind,” he says, raising his pipe. “I see you’re up to the same thing.”

Mila shakes her head. She returns her attention to the moon. “Go. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Are we not friends, Mila?” he says. “Can’t we talk and share like we used to?”

His voice is disheartened enough that it earns her gaze. She sighs at him. 

“I am sorry, but I can’t give you what you want,” she says. “Don’t test me anymore.”

He pauses with his pipe in hand. It drops to his side, and he takes measured steps closer, until he’s looking down at her. Even with the litheness of his form, he’s still taller and broader than her. His long, dark hair is half pulled onto the top of his head, threaded together with a beaded leather string she made for him when they were children. He has used it ever since. The rest of his hair lays loose down his back, brushing his arms. 

“If you actually loved him, it wouldn’t be a test,” he teases.  

He tries to touch her cheek, but she guides his hand down. She shakes her head and steps away from him. 

“This isn’t a game,” she says. “You know I mean what I say.”

His anger and frustration surfaces, with a sharp exhale of breath and the crunch of his dark brows.

“You would choose the Outlander over your own people,” he accuses.

Mila’s gaze is firm as she heads back to her tipi. If he will not be reasonable, then she will make it clear enough to hurt. 

“I choose him over you,” she says. 

Then, she slips back inside.     

The shadow outside remains, just long enough for the moon to become clear past the moving clouds. 

In the morning, Mila goes to her uncle, Chief Tahatan. She finds her parents there in his tipi as well, all of them sharing breakfast. Her aunt passes around more bread and wojapi, a sweet mixed berry sauce, while her father is resting a broken ankle. He’s complaining again, even though it happened over a week ago now. 

“If you hadn’t let the horse buck you off, you wouldn’t be hurting,” she says sharply now. She’s become annoyed with his griping. “Or better yet, you can finally admit that you’re beyond the years of breaking young stallions.” 

Chatan is the Horsemaster of their tribe, and has been since Mila was a little girl, inheriting the position from her great uncle, the former chief’s younger brother. Mila knows, however, that Chatan is getting too old to do the harder work. Many years have meant many battles too, and they’ve taken their toll on his bones. 

An idea grows in her mind, and she goes to sit beside her father. She applies the poultice Eyota gives Weaya for him, before rewrapping his ankle.

“Father,” she begins, imploring him gently, “perhaps Dean could help you care for the horses.”

Chatan eyes her with a frown. “Your husband already has his hands filled with training.” 

���Šóta and Takoda can’t do it all themselves, and Dean has experience with breaking young horses,” she reasons.  

Chatan ignores her and hefts himself to his feet without her or his wife’s help. He leaves with her mother on his heels, even though she looks back at her daughter apologetically. You know your father, her eyes say. 

Mila frowns at his back, both frustrated and upset. When they’re gone, she heaves a sigh. She remains determined though. 

She goes to Chief Tahatan next. He sits in his chair of whicker and wood while he smokes his pipe. Her aunt has gone to help the other women harvesting chokeberries and wild onions. Mila will go there soon, but first, she has business here.

“Uncle,” she says. 

He makes a sound of acknowledgement, crossed between a grunt and a groan. He knows what's coming. She kneels at his feet and touches his hand in a sign of humbleness, reverence, and familial love all at once. 

“Uncle,” she repeats. “Dean has done nothing but try to please Father, but still, he’s being stubborn…will you talk to him? Please?”

Tahatan sighs deeply. “You must understand your father, child. The decision you’ve made affects us all.”

“I do understand, Uncle. But the truth of it is, none of you have given Dean a chance to prove himself.”

“His chance is right now,” Tahatan says, his tone more stern. “Have I not been gracious? Did I not allow him to stay and live among us?”

“Yes, but you continue to judge him in your mind, like everyone else,” she says. The Chief remains quiet. She moves to stand before him, holding his gaze directly. “Let us perform the Huŋkápi.”

Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. Her people first created the tradition to make peace between Lakota and rival tribes, like the Ree. It can even be used to unite extended families within the tribe, especially in times of marriage. There is no better time for it, she thinks. 

The Chief shakes his head. “Kimmímila.”

“Is he not my husband?” she says. “In the eyes of our people, this is the joining of two families, and accepting an outsider into our tribe. That is exactly what the ceremony is for.”

“He has no family,” Tahatan snaps. “It is not exactly the tradition.”

“Then let us make it new,” she argues.

Tahatan hesitates. He shakes his head and rubs at his chin in a gesture of long-suffering. He thanks the spirits that he never had daughters. While he loves his niece, he has never envied his brother. 

“I will think on it,” he says. 

Mila frowns, but she tries her best to accept this, for now. She thanks him respectfully and leans in to kiss his cheek. Tahatan grunts an acknowledgement and watches her go with another shake of his head, despite a small smile. Between her and his sons, they will keep adding years to his life. 

On her way out of the Chief’s tipi, she runs into her cousin, Šóta. He walks with all the comfortable cockiness of a rooster among his harem.

“Good morning, sister,” he greets, even as he playfully pulls at her braid and tosses it into her face.

She flicks it away and meets him with an irritated frown. She’s in no mood to be teased, especially by him. “You’re still a child.”

“Ho-ho, hey now,” he chuckles, and he cuts off her path by standing in her way, crossing his arms. “Watch it. When I become Chief, don’t think I’ll let you talk to me so disrespectfully, my sister.”

“Just because you will be Chief one day does not make you wise,” she says. Her voice is as sharp as the snap of a blackberry vine. “And don’t call me sister. You have lost that right.”

Šóta finally becomes serious; he realizes that she means what she says.

“What are you talking about? What have I done?” he asks, more earnestly.

“It’s what you haven’t done,” Mila snaps. “If you were a good leader, you would take your father’s words to heart when he accepted my husband into our tribe. If you were my brother, you wouldn’t let the men mock him. If you were a man at all, you would do what is right. You would be guiding him right now, instead of letting the others ‘train’ him.”

She storms away from him, leaving Šóta feeling irritated, but also with an uncomfortable feeling beginning to churn in his gut. 

Mila moves brusquely through the camp until she reaches the clearing edged by the forest. There the horses are fenced in. They’ve been given their food and water for the morning, so they’re rather frisky as they clop around and graze.

She looks for Mato. Baby is no doubt with Dean today, so the Kiger mustang keeps to himself underneath a large sycamore tree. His tail flicks when she approaches, and he turns to her with a sound of greeting. She allows her hand to run along his dun-colored coat as she draws closer.

“I need you, my friend,” she whispers. 

She holds his snout, pressing her forehead against his as she squeezes her eyes shut against the burn of frustrated tears. Mato bumps her shoulder with his nose, softly whinnying. She smiles, sniffling, and rubs his cheek. 

“Let’s go for a ride.”

AN: Well, here we go! Sorry for ending on some angst, but here we've got the pieces in motion for a fun-filled, four-part sequel. 😂💜 Dean and Mila are both struggling in their own ways while he tries to navigate this new world he's trying to live in.

And how do you think he's gonna react to the "mystery man" trying to win her back? 😬

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

Next Time:

But she feels a shadow at her feet as she ventures through the village. They are getting bigger as a tribe, harder to move when they need to, and it’s more mouths to feed, but it’s also a good thing. Despite all the challenges the past few decades have brought, their people are enduring. 

However, she pushes these thoughts to the back of her mind when she feels a prickling down the back of her neck. It’s followed shortly by the strong hand that closes on her wrist, and the man that calls her name. 

She gasps and whips around. He is there, gently shushing her. She glares at him and tries to pull her hand out of his grip. 

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[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Checkmate ( Book 3 of 3 in BTR Series ) a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 3: Everlong..

Flashback: May 4th, 2025 1:21 PM

Jey pushed open the garage backdoor, letting the familiar warmth of their home wash over him. “Babe!” he called out, his voice echoing through the house.

“In the kitchen!” Rhea yelled back, her voice carrying a cheerful lilt that made him smile instantly.

Jey stepped into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks, his gaze landing on his beautiful wife. God, it felt good to say that—his wife. She was leaning against the counter, a glow radiating from her that he couldn’t get enough of. Her hair was pulled up in a loose bun, and she was casually munching on a handful of something she clearly couldn’t resist.

He crossed the room in a few strides and leaned in to kiss her, his hands resting gently on her waist. Rhea melted into the kiss, her lips soft and lingering as if she didn’t want it to end. “Missed you,” she murmured against his mouth, her voice low and full of affection.

Jey broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. “I missed you so much,” he whispered. His eyes flicked down to her growing belly, and a grin spread across his face. “How’s my future WWE superstar doing?”

Bending down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her belly, his hands cradling her sides as he did so.

Rhea laughed softly, her hand running through his short hair. “He’s been doing just fine. Although,” she said, smirking, “he’s been craving some Hot Cheetos with cheese again. And don’t even try to tell me that’s not him because I know it’s not me.”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head as he rested his cheek against her stomach. “Oh, you hear that, little man? You already got your mama blaming you for the cravings, huh?”

Rhea rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t falter. “You know I’m right. He’s got your taste buds, that’s for sure.”

Jey kissed her belly again, his voice softening as he spoke directly to their unborn son. “You keep taking care of your mama, alright? You’re already the champ of this house, little guy.”

Rhea’s heart swelled as she watched her husband. Moments like these, simple but full of love, were the ones she cherished the most. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was perfect.

Rhea wiped her hands on a towel and leaned back against the counter as Jey went and stood next to her, his arm brushing hers. “How’s your cousin doing with his direction in SmackDown?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.

Jey nodded, crossing his arms. “Zilla? Oh, he’s doing fine. Holding his own. You know how he is—got that Anoa’i stubbornness.”

Rhea grinned. “That’s good. They gave me his storyline to handle. This is the first one where it’s all on me, no edits, no team input. Just me.”

Jey raised an eyebrow, impressed. “All on you? Damn, babe, you’re killing it. You’re gonna make him look like a star.”

Rhea smiled but quickly shifted gears. “Speaking of Zilla, I heard something from Trin’ about him and a girl? Dahlia, right?”

Jey chuckled. “Yeah, that’s her name. He’s started seeing her. It’s kinda sweet, you know? At least until last night.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow. “What happened last night?”

Jey shook his head, a mix of amusement and frustration on his face. “We all hit the bar—me, Joseph, Jacob, and Zilla. Everything was fine, but then this girl, Jaida, shows up. Zilla starts dancing with her, right in the middle of the club, like he didn’t have a girl waiting on him at home. It wasn’t a good look, babe. Not for the weak, that’s for sure.”

Rhea let out a laugh, leaning against the counter for support. “That’s bold. And coming from you, of all people, giving him advice on respecting his girlfriend? That’s rich.”

Jey narrowed his eyes at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rhea tilted her head, playfully nudging his shoulder. “I mean, look at us. Look how we started.”

Jey’s expression softened, his voice steady as he stepped closer to her. “You know I never regret you. Or the way we started. Not for a second.”

Rhea’s teasing smile faltered slightly, replaced by something softer, more sincere. “I know. I know.”

Jey reached out, his fingers gently brushing her cheek before resting on her shoulder. “You already said yes to me once, and I know you’d do it again. You’re locked in, Rhea. There’s no going back now.”

She laughed, shaking her head at his confidence. “Well, since we’re on the subject, my stuff actually came in today.”

Jey tilted his head. “What stuff?”

“My new driver’s license, passport—all of it. It’s official now,” Rhea said, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Jey raised an eyebrow, curious. “What’s it say?”

Rhea smirked and held out an invisible ID card as if showing it to him. “Demi Fatu.”

Jey’s grin widened, his chest swelling with pride. He pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. “See? Told you. You’re locked in. No escaping now.”

Rhea laughed again, the sound warm and genuine as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Guess I’m stuck with you, huh?”

Jey leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Forever, baby.”

Jey then leaned against the counter once more, his eyes sparkling as he asked, "Now, how are my sons?"

Rhea placed her hand on her belly briefly, her other hand reaching for a glass of water. "They're doing well. Right now, Jeyce is at CD Master Copy with Demi, and Jaciyah is over at Daya's house."

Jey raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Oh... so we've got the house to ourselves, huh?"

Rhea caught the look in his eye and rolled hers in response, a small smile tugging at her lips. "It seems that way."

Jey stepped closer, leaning in to brush his lips against the side of her neck. His voice was low and teasing. "Let's go upstairs."

Rhea turned slightly to glance at the stove, hesitating. "I gotta start cooking dinner," she said, her tone half-hearted.

Jey wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing his lips to her shoulder. "We can order in," he murmured, his hands beginning to roam gently over her curves.

Rhea let out a soft laugh, tilting her head back against his chest. She loved how affectionate Jey was, how he made her feel like she was the only woman in the world.

"Come on," Jey coaxed, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Let me see this beautiful body."

Rhea smiled, her resolve quickly fading as her fingers toyed with the edge of the towel hanging from the counter. "You've got five minutes," she teased.

Jey pulled back, his grin wide and triumphant.

"Five minutes? Babe, I only need three."

Before Rhea could respond, Jey grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the stairs. Both of them were laughing by the time they reached the first step, Rhea's giggles mixing with Jey's soft chuckles as he led her upstairs, leaving the world -and the dinner preparations-behind.

-

Jey lay sprawled across the bed, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. Rhea nestled against him, her head resting on his shoulder as she lightly traced circles on his chest with her finger. The soft hum of the ceiling fan filled the room as their laughter began to fade into comfortable silence.

Rhea tilted her head up to look at him, her lips twitching into a playful smile. “That,” she said, breaking the silence, “was way more than five minutes.”

Jey let out a low chuckle, his arm tightening around her waist. “Would’ve gone longer if you’d let me.”

She rolled her eyes, smirking. “Sure, Joshua. Seriously, though, how do you have so much energy? You’re not twenty anymore.”

He grinned, looking down at her. “In my culture, forty years old is peak energy. You don’t even know what’s coming.”

Rhea quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re thirty-nine right now, though.”

Jey shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Doesn’t matter. I’m giving it to you like I’m twenty-one, and you’re loving every second of it.”

Rhea let out a burst of laughter, shaking her head. “You’re impossible. But…” Her tone softened as she glanced toward the nightstand. “I actually did something. Something for you.”

Jey sat up slightly, curiosity flickering across his face. “Yeah? What’s that?”

Rhea reached over and pulled out a sleek black book with intricate blue lace designs on the cover. It was heavier than it looked, and she handed it to him with a shy smile.

“Before you say anything,” she began, her voice wavering slightly, “I wanted to do this… for me. To feel confident. You know, in case I don’t lose the baby weight or if I stop feeling like myself after the baby comes…” She trailed off, her eyes dropping to the book.

Jey frowned, sitting up fully now. “Hey, don’t say stuff like that. Baby, you’re carrying my son. You’ve always been gorgeous to me. You’re my everything. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Rhea gave him a small smile, her cheeks flushing. “Just open it.”

Jey raised an eyebrow but obeyed, opening the book to the first page. Scrawled in elegant script were the words “To Joshua.”

His lips curved into a soft smile as he flipped to the next page. His breath hitched as his eyes landed on the first photo. It was Rhea, dressed in deep blue lingerie that complemented her pale skin and dark tattoos. Her hair was tousled, her pose confident yet alluring, and the soft lighting made the entire image look ethereal.

Jey flipped through the pages, each photo capturing a different side of her. Some were playful, with Rhea grinning at the camera, her hand resting on her stomach, while others were more seductive, with her gaze smoldering and her body posed to perfection.

“You did this for me?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with awe as he turned to look at her.

Rhea nodded, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of the sheet. “Yeah. I thought it’d be something special, you know? A way for you to remember this time… and me.”

Jey shook his head, his eyes returning to the book. “Special? Babe, this is more than special. This is everything. You’re stunning. Damn, look at you…”

Rhea let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her lips curving into a genuine smile. “You really like it?”

Jey closed the book and set it aside, pulling her closer until she was practically in his lap. “Like it? Rhea, you’re gonna have to hide this thing, or I’m gonna be looking at it every day. You’ve always been my girl, but now you’re officially a goddess.”

Rhea laughed, the sound soft and full of relief. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re perfect,” Jey countered, his voice low and sincere as he cupped her face. “Thank you for this. For everything.”

Rhea leaned in, their foreheads touching. “You’re welcome, baby. But you’re not framing any of those pictures.”

Jey smirked, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “We’ll see.”

As they lay back down, Jey kept the book on the nightstand, already knowing he’d sneak another look at it later. More than the photos, though, he felt overwhelmed with love and gratitude for the woman who had become his entire world.

Jey had drifted into a relaxed state, his arm lazily wrapped around Rhea’s waist as they lay together. The sound of her voice broke the quiet moment.

“Oh, by the way,” Rhea said casually, her tone nonchalant, “I bought a boat.”

Jey hummed, barely processing her words as he trailed his fingers along her arm. “That’s nice,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with drowsiness.

A few seconds later, Jey’s eyes shot open, realization hitting him like a freight train. He sat up abruptly, looking at her in disbelief. “Wait… you bought a boat?”

Rhea turned her head to him, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. “Well, duh.”

“Babe,” Jey said, his tone hovering between shock and amusement. “You can’t just casually drop that in the middle of a conversation! A boat? Like an actual boat? With a motor and everything?”

Rhea nodded proudly. “Yep. It’s not some little dinghy either—it’s a nice one. It’s docked down at the marina. I figured, why not? We’re by the water, and it could be fun for us. For the kids, too.”

Jey ran a hand down his face, chuckling in disbelief. “Rhea, you bought a boat without even telling me?”

She sat up, crossing her legs and giving him a playful nudge. “You’re acting like I drained our entire bank account. I used my money, Joshua. Besides, you’re always saying we should enjoy life more, so I made a move.”

Jey shook his head, still processing. “I mean, I’m not mad… I just wasn’t expecting this. What made you decide to get a boat out of nowhere?”

Rhea shrugged, her grin widening. “Honestly? I saw it online a couple weeks ago and thought, why not? Plus, I pictured you teaching Jeyce and Jaciyah how to fish off the side of it. And I thought it’d be a nice escape for us. Just you, me, and the water. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Jey softened at her words, leaning back on his hands. “Yeah, it does. I just… Damn, you really bought a boat.”

Rhea burst into laughter at his expression. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered. Wanna go see it?”

“Right now?” Jey asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, why not? The kids aren’t home, and it’s a beautiful day. We can check it out, maybe take it out for a little spin.”

Jey smirked, pulling her closer. “Alright, Mrs. Fatu, you’re full of surprises today. Let’s go see this boat of yours. But I swear, if it’s got some ridiculous name like ‘Riptide Rhea,’ I’m turning it around.”

Rhea gasped dramatically, pretending to be offended. “I would never! But now that you mention it, that’s kind of catchy…”

Jey groaned, grabbing her hand and pulling her off the bed. “Come on, let’s go. But don’t blame me if I start calling it ‘Uso’s Boat.’”

As they got dressed, Rhea couldn’t help but beam at how easily he rolled with her impulsive decision. If there was one thing she loved about Jey, it was his ability to embrace whatever curveball life—or she—threw at him.

—

Jey stepped out of Rhea’s plum Tahoe, still adjusting to the fact that Rhea had just casually mentioned buying a boat. He moved around the front of the vehicle and opened the passenger side door, offering his hand to her with a grin.

“Ready, babe?”

Rhea gave him a mischievous smile as she took his hand, stepping out with a confidence that always captivated him. Together, they began walking toward the dock, and Jey couldn’t help but notice how the boats were getting bigger with each step.

At first, he thought they were approaching a moderately sized boat, but as they walked further into the marina, he began seeing yachts of varying sizes that dwarfed the smaller vessels. Jey raised an eyebrow. “Babe, where are we headed exactly? This looks like yacht central.”

Rhea simply smiled and kept walking, clearly enjoying the mystery she was creating. Finally, they stopped at the base of a truly massive yacht. Jey’s mouth dropped open as he took in the sight—a 130-foot Mangusta yacht, shining like a beacon in the sun.

Jey blinked, taking a step forward to get a closer look. “Wait a damn minute… This isn’t a boat. This is a YACHT! A whole damn yacht! How much did this cost?”

Rhea looked over at him, the smile never leaving her face. “Well, you’re having a good year, Jey. I just got a pay bump, and with the lovely inheritance I received and paying off all of house and the Tahoe, I figured, why not? The owner was a huge wrestling fan, so he gave me a good deal on it.”

Jey’s mind raced. He had just barely wrapped his head around the fact that Rhea had bought a yacht, and now she was telling him it came with a discount from a wrestling fan?

“Wait a second,” Jey said, looking around at the lavish boat. “It’s not just a yacht. This is like a floating mansion. A damn palace on the water.”

Rhea laughed, clearly enjoying his reaction. “Well, yeah. Y-A-C-H-T, Jey. YACHT. Got it?”

Jey shook his head in disbelief, still taking in the sheer size and luxury of it all. “You bought a yacht… You know what? Never mind. I’m not even surprised anymore. You’re a walking surprise.”

Rhea’s laugh softened as she gently nudged him. “I told you, you’d be impressed.”

Jey shook his head in amazement. “Impressed? Babe, I’m beyond impressed. I’m just trying to figure out how I’m gonna look cool enough to be seen on this thing. This is next level.”

Rhea grinned, taking his hand and pulling him toward the gangway. “Come on, I’ll show you around. Trust me, you’re gonna love it. And when we throw parties out here, you’ll be the one everyone’s asking about.”

Jey followed her up the ramp, still in awe of the yacht. The gleaming, polished deck stretched out before them, and he couldn’t help but grin as they stepped inside. The view from the main deck was stunning, and the interior looked like something out of a luxury magazine. The walls were sleek and modern, the furniture a perfect blend of comfort and sophistication.

“Damn, Rhea,” Jey muttered, running a hand along the polished wood of the bar area. “This is ours now? You sure you’re not trying to make me jealous?”

Rhea smirked, sitting on one of the plush couches with a glass of water she’d grabbed from the galley. “I figured we deserve it. We work hard, we’ve got the kids, we’ve got the life. Why not treat ourselves?”

Jey sat beside her, shaking his head. “You’re wild. But I love it. Let’s break this thing in properly. When do we take her out?”

Rhea smiled, leaning back into the cushions. “Whenever you want. I’m thinking we should plan a weekend getaway next week, just the two of us. What do you think?”

Jey grinned, his arm wrapping around her waist. “I think that sounds perfect.”

As they gazed out over the water, Jey couldn’t help but think that no matter what life threw at them, they had built something special together. The yacht, the house, their family—it was all a reflection of their hard work, and there was no one he’d rather share it all with than Rhea.

“Welcome to our new life,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Rhea closed her eyes and smiled. “Welcome to our yacht, baby.”

—

As the sizzling sound of fried chicken filled the kitchen, Rhea couldn’t help but smile to herself. She was half-listening, half-laughing at the lively conversation taking place in the living room. Jey had been on FaceTime with Jon and Joe for the past several minutes, still hyped up about the yacht, and Rhea was loving every second of it. Her heart swelled with affection for him as she heard him continue to boast.

“BRO, I’M TELLING YOU! IT’S A FUCKING YACHT!” Jey said, his voice practically vibrating with excitement.

Rhea shook her head with a chuckle, glancing at the sizzling chicken legs in the pan. She didn’t mind the noise—it just meant Jey was in a good mood. She loved seeing him this happy, especially after all the drama they’d been through over the past few months. He deserved this moment, and she was happy to be a part of it.

Jon’s voice came through the phone, teasing him. “So, when are we going on this yacht, Jey? I need to see this for myself.”

Joe’s voice followed, equally amused. “Yeah, yeah, we want to experience this too, bro!”

Jey leaned back on the couch, smiling wide. “Well, we got a trip for me and her next week, but I’ll figure something out. I’ll make sure you guys get your chance to come see it. It’s gonna be a party on the water when you do.”

Jon laughed. “Man, I can’t wait. You know, I gotta say, I never thought I’d be saying ‘I’m gonna hit up Jey Uso’s yacht’ anytime soon.”

Joe chimed in, his voice calm but teasing. “Just don’t fall overboard, you klutz.”

Jey shot back quickly, laughing. “I won’t fall over, Joe! I’ve got balance, I ain’t gonna pull a ‘Jon’ on this one!”

Rhea could hear Jon and Joe bursting into laughter in the background, both of them playfully ribbing Jey. She shook her head, grinning to herself as she finished up the last few pieces of chicken and turned off the stove.

She walked into the living room, her eyes softening as she looked at Jey, who was now holding the phone at an awkward angle, clearly trying to get a good angle of himself. He looked up at her and smiled.

“Yo, babe, these guys are already planning a trip to the yacht. They’re acting like it’s the next best thing since sliced bread,” Jey said with a laugh.

Rhea raised an eyebrow as she stood in the doorway, folding her arms. “You told them about the yacht?” Asking as if she already didn’t know.

Jey chuckled. “What? You know I can’t keep secrets when I’m this excited! And they’re already plotting. Can you blame ’em?”

Rhea couldn’t hold back a laugh as she shook her head. “I’m sure they’ll make it an event, like always.”

Joe’s voice suddenly broke through. “Hey, Jey, just make sure Rhea doesn’t throw a big ol’ party out there without us. We want in.”

Jey smirked, looking at Rhea. “I’ll make sure of it. But if they wanna come, they gotta bring their own drinks. I’m not the one supplying the whole crew.”

Rhea playfully rolled her eyes. “Well, if they’re gonna come, we better start making plans. I have no doubt that Jon and Joe will turn it into a whole thing.”

Jon’s voice came through, laughing. “You know we will! We’ll have a blast.”

“Alright, alright,” Jey said with a chuckle. “I’ll plan something. But I’m telling you right now, we’re keeping it low key. No over-the-top shenanigans. Let’s just have a good time.”

Rhea smiled and walked over, leaning down to kiss Jey on the cheek. “Sounds like a plan. But in the meantime, I think you should stop bragging about the yacht and enjoy your food.”

Jey looked at her, grinning ear to ear. “I’m enjoying both, don’t worry about me.”

She walked away toward the kitchen counter, pulling the freshly made fried chicken from the stove and setting the plates. “Alright, you’re going to eat and then you’re going to help me clean up this mess. Deal?”

Jey rolled his eyes but grinned, “Deal. I don’t even know why you’re asking, you know I always help.”

Rhea gave him a knowing look. “You do, but only after I remind you. Now eat, I’m starving too.”

As Jey sat down to eat, he glanced back at his phone and gave one last smile. “Alright, enough talk about the yacht. Gotta enjoy the moment. But I’ll make sure we’ll have a damn good time when you guys come down, alright?”

Jon and Joe said their goodbyes, and the call ended.

Jey leaned back in the couch, content with life, as Rhea joined him, grabbing her own plate and sinking into the couch beside him.

“Seriously though,” Rhea said softly, glancing at Jey, “I’m glad you’re happy. You deserve it.”

Jey smiled warmly, taking her hand. “I feel like everything’s coming together. And having you by my side—nothing beats that.”

She squeezed his hand, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. For once, everything felt like it was coming all together.

—

Flashback: May 24th, 2025 – 10:14 AM

“Babe! Did you pack the sunscreen?” Rhea called up the stairs, her voice cutting through the buzz of excitement filling the house.

From their bedroom, Jey called back, “Yes! I got it!” His voice carried a hint of amusement, knowing how Rhea never trusted him to remember the essentials.

The weather was unusually hot for Stamford, a sweltering 94 degrees—not typical for the area but perfect for the plans they had today. It was the ideal occasion to break in Julie, their brand-new yacht. They’d invited family and close friends for the maiden voyage, and, to their surprise, everyone RSVP’d. Jey was especially excited, having even extended the invite to his cousin Isayah and Isayah’s girlfriend, Dahlia.

Rhea, on the other hand, was curious but slightly anxious. She had only met Isayah twice in passing and had only heard brief mentions of Dahlia. But today wasn’t the day for overthinking—she was determined to make it special for everyone.

As Rhea double-checked the cooler she’d packed with snacks and drinks, Jaciyah and Jeyce came bounding down the stairs, clearly in a hurry.

“Bye, Mom!” Jaciyah called, already halfway out the door.

“Wait, where are you two going?” Rhea asked, setting down the cooler to catch their attention.

Jaciyah turned, his usual calm demeanor replaced with excitement. “Me and Jeyce are going to hang out with Demi and Daya. Their dad is cooking a whole pig and invited us over to experience it.”

Rhea smiled warmly, folding her arms as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “Oh, you’re going to love pig! Dominik and Damian did that for me one time, and it was so worth it. Trust me, you’re in for a treat. Have fun, okay? And don’t forget sunscreen, it’s brutal out there today.”

“Will do, Mom!” Jeyce called over his shoulder as the two of them darted out the door, their laughter trailing behind them.

Rhea chuckled to herself, marveling at how grown up they were becoming. She grabbed her phone to check the time and called up to Jey again. “Babe, we need to leave soon! Everyone’s going to be at the marina in an hour.”

Jey appeared at the top of the stairs, sunglasses perched on his head and a confident grin on his face. “Relax, we got time. Besides, it’s our yacht—no one’s leaving without us.”

Rhea rolled her eyes with a smirk. “You act like being late is fashionable or something.”

Jey descended the stairs and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m not late—I’m on ‘island time.’ Big difference.”

Rhea shook her head, laughing softly. “Well, ‘island time’ better get moving because I’m not about to make a bad first impression on your cousin or his girlfriend.”

“They’ll be fine,” Jey reassured her, kissing her temple. “Besides, you’re overthinking. Everyone loves you.”

She sighed but smiled, grabbing the cooler. “Let’s just hope Julie lives up to all this hype you’ve been throwing around.”

Jey laughed, grabbing the sunscreen and their bags. “Oh, she will. Trust me.”

As they loaded up the Tahoe and headed to Anchor Point Marina, the anticipation grew. It wasn’t just about the yacht—it was about the memories they were about to create with the people they loved most.

Jey and Rhea pulled up to the marina, and Rhea immediately spotted the group already waiting by the dock. She grinned and said, “Help me out of here, Uce’!”

Jey laughed as he parked the Tahoe. “Okay, give me a second, Ripley!” He stepped out, waving at everyone gathered. Then he made his way around to Rhea’s side, opened the door, and extended his hand to help his 26-week pregnant wife out of the car.

Rhea groaned softly as she shifted her weight to stand. “I swear, I’m not this clumsy. It’s your son making me waddle already.”

Jey smirked and kissed her cheek. “That’s a big Samoan baby in there. You’re doing great, baby.”

Rhea rolled her eyes affectionately and waved at the girls as she waddled over. The women—Trinity, Galina, Almia, Kayden, and Liv—gathered around her for a warm group hug. Liv, nearing the end of her first trimester, smiled brightly as she placed a hand on Rhea’s bump. “Girl, you’re glowing! But damn, you’re carrying like you’re closer to term.”

“Blame Jey and his heavy-duty genes,” Rhea teased, laughing. “He doesn’t do small babies, apparently.”

While the girls fussed over Rhea, the boys—Damian, Jon, Joseph, Dominik, and Joe—helped Jey unload the coolers and food from the Tahoe. They exchanged playful banter, already debating who would take the helm of the yacht first.

Then Rhea noticed an Uber pulling up nearby and paused, watching as a familiar face stepped out. It was Jey’s younger cousin, Isayah, better known as Zilla Fatu. His tall frame and confident stride reminded Rhea of the first time they’d met. He hadn’t changed much, still carrying himself with a quiet but unmistakable swagger.

Isayah smiled when he saw her and made his way over. “Rhea, how are you?” he asked, pulling her into a warm hug. “The plane ride was a bit bumpy, but not bad.”

“I’m great,” Rhea said, returning the hug. “But seriously, what’s with these Samoan genes? I’m waddling already, and I’ve got weeks to go.”

“Hey, don’t blame me,” Isayah teased. “That’s all Jey. You know our family doesn’t do anything halfway.”

Rhea laughed, then caught sight of the young woman standing beside him. She was thick, with striking features and a calm demeanor that radiated warmth. Isayah smiled and gestured toward her. “Where are my manners? Rhea, this is my girlfriend, Dahlia.”

Dahlia extended her hand politely. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

But Rhea waved it off with a wide smile. “Nonsense, we’re all family here!” She pulled Dahlia into a welcoming hug before grabbing her hand. “Come on, you have to meet the girls. They’ll love you.”

As Rhea led Dahlia over to the group, Isayah chuckled and turned toward the rest of the boys. “Well, she didn’t waste any time.”

Jon patted his younger cousin on the back. “That’s how it is with us. You bring someone around, and they’re in. No initiation required.”

“Unless you’re talking about karaoke on the yacht later,” Joe chimed in with a grin. “Then there’s definitely initiation.”

The men laughed as they finished unloading, the excitement for the day ahead building. Meanwhile, Rhea introduced Dahlia to the women, who immediately embraced her into their circle, welcoming her with stories and laughter.

It was shaping up to be a perfect day to break in Julie, and the excitement of family, friends, and new connections was already in full swing.

—

August 27th, 2025 – 4:01 PM (Undisclosed Location)

Rhea’s eyes fluttered open, her vision blurred and her head pounding. She tried to lift her hands to rub her temples, but the sharp jingle of metal stopped her. Panic began to seep into her chest as she realized her wrists were bound by cold, unyielding handcuffs. She was weak, her body still fragile from giving birth, her muscles aching as if every ounce of her energy had been siphoned away.

She glanced around the dimly lit room, shadows playing on the cracked walls. Her breaths came fast and shallow, and she shouted hoarsely, “Help! Somebody! Anyone!”

A low, chilling laugh echoed from the darkness.

Rhea froze, her heart hammering in her chest as the sound grew closer. A figure emerged, fully clothed in black, his face obscured by a ski mask. He stood still for a moment, letting the silence suffocate the space between them. Slowly, he reached up and pulled off the mask, revealing his face.

“Dustin?” Rhea’s voice trembled with confusion and disbelief.

The man before her smiled, but there was no warmth behind it—only malice. “Hello… Black Mamba.” He spat the nickname like it was venom on his tongue, his tone laced with bitterness.

Rhea flinched at the sound of the name, a moniker she hadn’t heard in years. “Why… what? Dustin, what’s going on?”

Her mind raced, trying to piece together how she had ended up here, why Dustin was standing before her with such hatred in his eyes.

Dustin tilted his head, feigning innocence. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he said, his voice low and menacing.

“Why’d you do this?” Rhea asked, desperation creeping into her tone. “What did I do to you?”

Dustin’s eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a twisted smile. “I’ll tell you,” he said, stepping closer. “But only when I feel like it.”

He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his breath hot against her skin. “You’re in no position to ask questions, Black Mamba.”

Rhea recoiled as he straightened up and turned toward the door. His boots thudded heavily against the floor as he walked away. Just before stepping out, he turned his head slightly, his profile illuminated by the faint light from the hallway.

“Go ahead and scream,” he said, his voice calm and cold. “No one will hear you anyway.”

The door slammed shut, leaving Rhea alone in the suffocating silence. She sat frozen, her mind reeling. The nickname. The malice in his voice. The betrayal. It all churned in her head as she fought back tears, trying to think, to plan, to survive.

Her body trembled, but her resolve hardened. She didn’t know how or when, but she would find a way out of this. She had to. For herself. For Jey. For their son.

[gnckholin]

okay I need to preface this with yes I like having representation and anyone who's been around my blog long enough should know that renarin is my specialest little guy him and him and rlain are very cute and if y'all really need it this is coming from the perspective of a queer man if you turn this into a pissing on the poor type deal I will simply block you but. now that I've had time to stew on it.

the rlainarin arc was a bit boring.

part of this is I think rooted in Brandon trying to be a Good Ally™ doing Good Representation™ and he worked a lot with sensitivity readers to make sure things are handled well but it just felt a bit... tokenizing? like they were in the spiritual realm as a bit of plot convenience but also it kinda felt like an excuse to keep them relevant enough to give them pov chapters. and it's cute! don't get me wrong! but also every other characters get emotional arcs about growing as a person and they got...trying to ask your crush out? it felt very out of place.

now you might be saying hold on! they're not primarily pov characters you can't expect as much nuance emotionally as someone like kaladin. and you're right! but let's look at the other supporting cast members here. jasnah gets the struggle of power and her entire attempt to keep thaylenah which results in a meaningful paradigm shift for her! navani gets to work on her connection with the sibling and uncover the past. we don't even really see much of relationship between renarin and glys much less rlain and tumi. sure they may have been good representation! but they were mediocre arcs. even in the discussions I'm seeing lately of favorite parts, it's not that people have disliked it it's just...nothing to write home about?

it also feels particularly weird to have an arc around "my family will think it's weird" when it's been pretty well established that alethi in general are like. fine with queerness. and sure you can say "well they're nobles" but at this point renarin is in line for 0 titles. dalinar was only going to give king of urithiru to someone who wanted it, jasnah planned on being the last queen of alethkar, there's literally no point? it feels a little love Simon. and yes absolutely in modern western culture people can feel weird about coming out to people who would be accepting and that's fine! but that's also rooted in real world homophobia which alethkar doesn't seem to have.

even when we compare with the other canonically queer stormlight character, it just kinda. . .falls flat. part of this is that shallan wasn't intended to be queer but honestly it feels like it reads well. she doesn't have to turn to camera and say she's different she's bisexual she can just be a person. she can fall in love with adolin she can get flustered around jasnah veil can call women hot and it's like. fine. and it feels more authentic to the setting! a lot of the rlainarin arc in WAT felt like it was meant to be educational. for cishet people. and like that's fine! but it doesn't make for an engaging character arc. I can't even say it really makes for good reading.

and look, I get it, we all like seeing them get flustered and worry about what the other one thinks and we all get to be excited when they confess their feelings and kiss but it just feels so tonally dissonant that like. I can't believe this was intended to fit into the main plot. it feels a bit patronizing - like look we have good healthy representation now! I'm doing so good at this! and genuinely from the bottom of my heart it's thrilling that the largest name in fantasy is willing to do this even more so considering the religious background he's writing from I'm not writing all this to say Brandon is a bad guy or secretly a homophobe I'm just saying. I wish we had more, y'know? something less feel good for the cishets for being good allies something with more of a real plot that engages with the themes of the series and whatnot. I'm looking forward to arc 2 (in like 10-15 years)! I'm looking forward to more rlain and renarin and their dynamic! I just hope it feels less. educational.

anyway a lot of this was directly inspired by verilybitchie's video on good representation it really helped me out my finger on why their arc felt a bit flat so please go check it out she's a great creator.

[hoebii]

you’re welcome!! also, i’m sure everyone will understand that a new chapter will probably not be coming soon since you need to take care of yourself.

we can wait patiently, we know that you’re good at what you do. have a good day/night!!!

I’m so sorry I haven’t been answering asks and such, I’ve been very on and off with tumblr and just everything is general but !!! Thank you so much for all the kind words and support and I’m sorry for making you wait for so long 😭 I love you all so much and no! I haven’t forgotten about Black Mamba, it’s my baby, I could never forget about it, I just haven’t been able to get the motivation to do anything but it’s getting better.

Anyways, all that ranting aside,,,, I might have hypothetically maybe possibly finished editing a new chapter and have another under work 👀 JUST HYPOTHETICALLY OF COURSE soooo 😇

[moeblob]

I love them! So much!

[sabugabr]

A quest is a sacred thing. And to be charged with one is to be in conversation with the gods themselves.

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 42 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Fucking hell im sobbing, this is it, the last chapter! Thank you everyone for sticking along with me you are all amazing! I'm so sad this is finished, I feel kinda lost without Em and Don. I'm so sad but also wow I wrote and finished a whole story that's impressive for me. LOVE YOU ALL!!!

For the last time ever, this is based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut, @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls, @lovememadly92, @lucyfromtheoldhouse, @blueberry-ovaries, @next-autopsy, @saintmalosunsets, @anaso12 anyone else please let me know.

Time stood still for a split second before the clock ticked forward again. I stood exactly where I had left, my items I had dropped when I was struggling to free myself from the shimmer still laid perfectly where they had landed many months ago. 

I whipped around but all that greeted me was the dark street. 

No shimmer. 

No Don. 

It was as if I was on autopilot, I gathered my belongings into my arms and made my way back to my apartment. I fumbled with my keys before slotting them into the lock and twisting open the door. 

I placed my keys down on the bench with the rest of my belongings before trudging to the bathroom. There in the mirror stood a girl I hardly recognised. 

Her hair was windswept and unkempt, her face was blotchy and red, she wore an army uniform from the 40’s. 

She was out of place and lost. 

Shedding my clothes I stepped into the shower. Unlike before I was more aware of the damage on my skin. Cuts and bruises scattered my arms and legs. Scars and faded injuries covered me from head to toe. The last time I was in this shower I had been a different person. 

I washed myself until my skin turned red from the heat of the water and the scrubbing from my hands. 

Walking to my room, I slumped down in my bed and shut my eyes wishing to never wake again. 

—------------------------------------

The months flew by, I did my best to heal what was broken. I had promised myself that when I retired I would live life to the fullest, if not for me, for Don. 

I threw myself back into my studies, working hard towards my degree. It seemed to be the only thing that could distract me. I also went to therapy, I didn’t speak about the war I had lived through, it would’ve been too hard to explain, also maybe slightly crazy. 

We spoke mostly about the attack that had happened the night before I had left, it impacted me in more ways than I thought, it had closed me off to everyone again. 

My therapist encouraged me to form more bonds and have people in my life who I could trust. But it felt wrong trying to find people to fill the void of the ones I had left behind. So I kept to myself. 

I had tried my hardest to forget and move forward, I didn’t want to linger on the what if’s but the urge was too strong. I would spend weeks in the library scouring World War II books and reports, trying to find the names of the men I had lost. 

But the odd thing was that there was always a 101st Airborne, always an Easy company, but never the names of the men I had served with. 

They appeared to take the same course of action, the events that happened to us, had happened to them. But the men pictured and named were not my Easy men. 

It drove me to the point of insanity. I rushed home and dug all of the things I had brought back with me from the back of my closet. Just to ensure that it had happened, that I didn’t just imagine it all. 

Sitting on the floor surrounded by the items I had stowed away. My uniform, medic bag and phone all were proof that it was real. 

The medic bag sat unopened. I hadn’t been through it at all since I had arrived back. I sat gnawing on my lip, did I open it or not? 

“Fuck it.” I muttered, leaning forward and unbuckling the clasps that held it shut. I pulled it closer, sitting the bag on my lap. 

My fingers brushed over an unfamiliar material, I thought I knew exactly what I had brought back but this felt different. I hastily dragged the item from the bag. 

A gasp left my lips and tears almost immediately streaked down my face. My thumb brushed over the metal, Donald G. Malarkey. It was his dog tag. He had somehow snuck it into my bag and didn’t tell me. 

I could feel rough metal on the other side of the smooth metal. I flipped it over to find, ‘My Love, forever’. The words had been scratched into the back of the tag, Don had done it. I knew his hand writing anywhere. 

Clutching the thin piece of metal to my chest I rocked myself back and forward as I sobbed. It was the closest I was ever going to feel to him ever again. The thought that he wore this so close to his heart for all the time we had been together made me cry even harder. 

I upturned the bag letting the contents spill onto the floor, I rummaged through the belongings like a mad woman. 

Was there anything else he had put in?  

A paper I didn’t recognise was hidden under bandages, I hastily pushed everything else aside grabbing the paper as if it was going to disappear.  

I shook as I stroked my fingers along the unopened parchment that had been folded in half. His scrawly handwriting grace the blank paper. 

‘To Em.’

A shaky breath left my lips as I slowly unfolded the letter. My heart smashed against my ribcage but it felt nice to feel again, even if it was just pain. I had been so numb on autopilot. I couldn’t wait anymore, I needed to know what he had written. 

 My beloved Em,

I don’t know when you are reading this, but I hope that you are well. Know that I miss you dearly, and that I think of you always. 

I write this now after you had left to go and say your goodbyes. 

It took me a while to understand, but I do now. I know you inside and out, I know you as kind and gentle. You only want to share your love and happiness. 

You made the brave decision to give up everything so that we might have a chance to live and be free. You have made a sacrifice I never think I could do, and for that I admire you dearly, Em. You’re so courageous, your heart is unshakable. 

That is why I love you. Your soul is pure and good. I love your being and essence and everything that makes you, you. 

I love the way your curls fall into your face when you laugh, and the way your eyes crinkle at the sides when you smile. I will miss the sound of your melodic voice, and soft lips. I’ll miss the way you tell stories and the hugs you give. I miss you even now, when I know you’re only mere metres away. 

There will not be a day that will go by that you won’t be on my mind. Sleeping or awake you will forever be at the forefront of my thoughts. When I am sad, happy, excited, depressed, lonely, or content I wish to only share my thoughts with you. I will never not talk about you, your name will forever be on my lips.   

I hope you have found my small gift, and that you hold it close to your heart and think of me. 

Know that I am well Em. 

I am content with your decision. I will live for you. 

I hope you do the same, I hope you reach all of your dreams. 

There’s a quote I love, “missing someone is your heart’s way of telling you that you love them.” 

I miss you more than life itself, so I’ll love you for infinity. May my love for you reach you in your time now and you feel me wrapping myself around you now. I wish I had a photo of you, it scares me that I might forget your face. 

But the men and I will keep you alive in our memories, I will share every story I have of you. I will go home and tell everyone that I was going to be wed to the most beautiful girl in the land but she made a decision that let us be here today, and in turn she couldn’t stay.  

Please Em, my only wish is for you to be happy. Surround yourself with people who love you like we loved you. I need to know that you are being loved and cared for.

I don’t want to finish this letter, I wish I could write you pages and pages and fill them with the love I have for you, but alas there are not enough words in the universe that could perfectly summarise my feelings for you. But I will leave you with this poem.

I will love you as long as the sun burns in the sky,

As long as the moon shines its light into the dark night, 

Until the raging blue oceans become calm and run dry. 

I will love you until the end of time. 

With all my love, I hope to find you again. I will wait for you in every lifetime. 

Donald Malarkey, your one true love now and forever. 

The sobs that left my mouth were short and sharp as I struggled to intake air. My tears landed on the paper as I clutched it to my chest. I had read the words over and over again, I could hear his voice in the writing. 

After my sobs had subsided I continued to search through the contents of the bag. A flash of metal caught my attention. A dry chuckle left my throat, Speirs’ lighter lay amongst my belongings. His initials were carved into the metal, it didn’t come with a note, but the act alone was heartbreaking. It was Ron’s trusty lighter, one that he didn’t part with easily, but still he had slipped it into my bag for me to have to remember him by. 

I woke up the next morning on the floor of my room surrounded by memories. I slipped Don’s tag around my neck and tucked it into my shirt. Just when I was losing faith they had given me the motivation to live again. 

So I did just that. I opened myself up again, I graduated and started a new job as a full time nurse. I did as they had asked and surrounded myself with people who loved and cared for me. But no one could ever take Don’s place, that part of my heart was tightly locked which he only had the key to. 

A year passed and the hurt lessened. Never did they leave my thoughts, the amount of times I went to share stories only to bite my tongue. But I wrote them all down in my diary to ensure that the memories I had of them were never forgotten. 

—--------------------------------

“Hey Em, patient in room 12 is wanting to speak to you.” Izzy, the nurse I had befriended when I had started, peered her head into the nurses office. 

“Sure.” I smiled brightly at her, getting up from the notes I was finishing. I made my way to the room, assisting the patient to unhook from the fluids they were getting so that they could go to the toilet. 

“Em!” I heard from behind me. I sat the patient back down on their bed as we had made our way back from the bathroom. 

“Yeah?” I turned to see an excitable Izzy. 

“The girls and I were going to go out for dinner tonight. Come!” It was a Friday for the group and  everyone seemed to be very thrilled for the weekend. 

“Um…” I teasingly thought about the offer. The brunette didn’t let me think long, rushing into the room to slap me on the shoulder. 

“You’re coming!” She tugged gently at my arm. 

“Says who?” I wound her up more. I had befriended her as she had reminded me of George. She was bright and funny, always with a big smile on her face. We had both started at the same time and bonded over being ‘new and dumb’, we joked. It was easy to make friends with her, it was as if they had known each other in a past life. 

“Emily Lane!” She full named me, causing me to giggle. 

“Shall I pick you up?” I asked as I sauntered away. 

“AHHHH!” Izzy squealed in delight, running after me to pounce on my back. “We are going to have so much fun!” 

I never picked up Izzy, she had followed me home. Demanding we got ready together. I watched her dance around the room singing into the hairbrush she had found lying around. She looked insane having half of her eye makeup on as she sung poorly into the makeshift microphone. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Izzy bowed to the non-existent crowd taking in her applause. 

We finished our makeup, mucking around wasting time we didn’t have doing a fashion show, which was basically Izzy prancing around like an idiot and me curled over in hysterics. 

“If you keep going not only are we going to be so late, my makeup is going to be ruined!” I chucked a pillow from the couch at her head. 

Finally we made it to dinner only ten minutes late. We shared good food and stories around the table. I smiled, glancing around the table at the people who were in my life. Don would’ve been proud of me. 

Izzy squeezed my hand from under the table as she lent her head on my shoulder. “I have a surprise and you can’t say no.” 

I pretended to be mad at her but the smile stuck to my lips as she fluttered her eyelashes at me. 

“What is it?” I asked, a huge grin broke onto her face. 

“Karaoke!” She cheered as did the rest of the table. “You have to come, I’ve invited some of my friends too.” Izzy elbowed me in the side. 

The older nurses with children and earlier bedtimes left, leaving the younger nurses with more energy to do karaoke. Izzy’s friends slowly trickled in joining us in our fun night out. All of them were lovely and so funny. I wiped the tears that leaked from my eyes as Izzy and Lyla sang a duet together, they were so off pitch but that didn’t stop them. 

They plonked down next to me out of breath. “Your turn!” The girls pushed me from my seat. I looked back into the crowd and they smiled excitedly up at me. I picked a random song.  

Stay by Rihanna played out from the speakers. I sang along as the group cheered and whooped. I didn’t care if I sounded bad. I sang loudly as I waved my hand in the air. 

The room door swung open and I lost my words. There in the doorway was a face that I couldn't forget. 

“SING!!” Lyla cheered. But I couldn’t, nothing worked, my mouth hung open and tears filled my eyes. 

I watched Izzy jump up from her seat and dragged the person into the room. 

“Em!” She ran towards me with the person in tow. “This is my friend, Don.” 

It was him, head to toe, he looked exactly like my Don. 

“Pleased to meet you, Izzy has told me a lot about you.” The man stuck out his hand for me to shake but I was still so frazzled. His voice was exactly the same. I blinked, pinching my leg to make sure I wasn’t in some weird dream. 

“Are you alright, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” The modern Don tilted his head in concern. 

“I’m fine.” I uttered out in shock, I politely shook his hand, almost melting at his touch. It was the same. Had he come back to me? 

“Have we met before? You just seem familiar.” He asked. Izzy stood between us as we stared at with a confused look on her face. 

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” She departed the conversation, leaving us staring at each other with our hands still connected.   

“Do you want to come to the bar with me? It's a bit loud here.” He asked, never taking his hand from mine. I nodded, my mouth still hung open. 

We left the small karaoke room we occupied and made our way back over to the main bar. 

“So do we know each other?” Don asked again. 

“No we don’t.” I shook my head. 

“Well I want to change that.” His smile grew wide as he stepped closer to me. “I don’t know why but you feel important.” 

And at the moment I knew everything was going to be ok. 

Because he had found me again.

Just like he had promised. 

---------------------------------------------------

THE END!

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober Day 11 - (alt prompt) Time Loop

title: you can't save them all.

fandom: 3rd life smp, life series

~

You can’t save them all.

It’s only his head telling him that, though, so Grian tells it to shove it.

All of them are here, and they don’t know how. That can’t be any good, can it?

They have three lives. That much is clear. Whenever they die, they go down a color. When they get to the final color—to Red—the bloodlust hits.

That . . . scares Grian, to be honest. He doesn’t know why it’s like that, and that’s what scares him.

He has admin.

It had been a shock, checking his communicator and seeing that his name was marked with the ‘A’. It doesn’t mean he knows anything. Not anything more than anyone else knows.

But he feels responsible, somehow. He’s the admin. It’s his job to make sure the server is safe, and he intends to do that, even if he doesn’t exactly know what’s going on.

Scar died first, then died again, and all Grian knows is that he can’t let him die a third time. There’s only three lives, he’s certain of that, but he has no clue what happens if any of them lose their third life, so he won’t let that happen.

They aren’t dying here. He’s going to save them.

You can’t save them all.

But then Jimmy dies.

Jimmy dies.

Jimmy dies, and Grian doesn’t save him.

You can’t save them all.

Scar finds him late the next night (it isn’t just Jimmy who’s died, Cleo died too, Skizz died too, they died and it was different), curled up in the demolished desert that had once been their lighthearted home.

“Hey, G,” Scar says softly, and Grian doesn’t look up.

He blew this up. He cards his hand through the sand, still warm from the baking sun, picks up a handful and lets it spill between his fingers.

Scar lays a hand on his shoulder, heavy and grounding.

“I didn’t save them,” Grian says, swallowing back the emotions (fear, anger, unquantifiable hatred for this situation), leaving his voice dry, not-quite solid. “I didn’t save them, Scar.”

“You saved me,” Scar offers, and it isn’t enough.

“I’m the admin. I’m—I’m supposed to save them.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Scar says.

Grian doesn’t call out the doubt in his voice.

He hasn’t expressed his feelings on this whole thing to anyone. Anyone but Scar, because Scar has the nasty talent of being able to wheedle anything out of anyone. As far as Grian’s aware, nobody knows how scared he is. Nobody knows that he thinks they might not go on living after this.

(They know. He saw the way Scott grieved. Bdubs’s horror. Ren’s howl of fury. That doesn’t happen on a normal world.)

(None of them know if they’ll ever see each other again.)

“I’m scared,” Grian admits.

Scar’s hand doesn’t leave his shoulder.

He could shut it down.

He could.

But . . . what if someone needs to win?

What if they only survive if someone wins?

It makes sense to shut it all down. It makes sense to destroy the world and send everyone home with his admin abilities.

He just . . . he can’t shake the sensation that if he does that, it’ll make everything worse. That Jimmy and Skizz and Cleo really will be lost forever, all because Grian hadn’t let the game continue to a winner.

“It’s okay,” Scar says eventually, and before Grian knows what’s happening, Scar settles down beside him in the shifting sand, wrapping his arm around Grian.

Grian sinks into Scar’s warmth, his bare side pressed up against Grian’s undershirt, and Grian rests his head against Scar’s shoulder and sighs.

“I’m here,” Scar promises, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm against Grian’s shoulder. “As long as you’re not going anywhere, I’m not going anywhere. You and me together, right?”

-

Grian doesn’t necessarily mean to win that one. But Scar—

Scar betrays him.

Scar promises to be there, to not go anywhere, and he betrays him—

And Grian wins.

And the world ends.

And a new one begins.

-

“Grian, dude?”

“Hm?” Grian doesn’t look up from where he’s darning the elbow of his sweater, tongue between his teeth.

“You’re admin, right?”

“Yep.”

“So . . . why don’t you send us home?”

See, Grian’s pretty sure the others don’t remember the world before this one. None of them had said anything when they spawned in a second world, with different-but-the-same rules, with new Players. None of them had taken up their previous alliances; enemies had even joined enemies and Grian had stared and wondered if they just weren’t talking about it, or if they genuinely had no memory of the first time.

He’d been asked Mumbo’s question, the first time. After Scar first died, and they realized they didn’t know what would happen after (not that anyone said that, specifically, though).

But Mumbo wasn’t here last time.

“It’s a game we don’t understand at all,” Grian explains. “We don’t know who’s running this, what kind of power they have. What if quitting isn’t the right play?”

He pulls his knitting needle through the elbow again, frowns when it snags. He hasn’t fixed up his clothes in a while—his sweater had been discarded fairly early on the first time, abandoned for the desert’s heavy heat, and his trousers had somehow escaped serious damage most of the game. Here, though, he tore a hole in the arm while swinging onto Scar’s horse (a loose thread had caught on the saddle) in the first couple days of this world, and now he’s faced with the consequences of his own actions.

“We don’t know anything. What if they track us back home?”

“Right, makes sense, I suppose. But—but if you got us out, could you put us in a, like, safe world? Just for long enough that we can contact someone who can help us.”

It’s too risky.

Grian has to save them.

You can’t save them all.

He failed the first time. He failed, and he paid, and he had to punch Scar’s battered body until his ribcage caved and blood spilled from his mouth as the man smiled, and Grian had to face that failure and know that it was a cruel twist of whatever put them here.

He had failed.

He didn’t think he’d be given a second chance, but he’s determined to do it right this time.

“I just can’t be sure,” says Grian. “I’m working to figure it out, really. But nobody can die, okay?”

“Hate to break it to you, mate, but you’ve already died.”

Grian sets down his sweater, looking up at Mumbo for the first time.

Mumbo’s abandoned his suit coat, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up, but his collar is buttoned and his tie tight. His slacks are held up by suspenders and his knees are reinforced by some leather pads buckled on, matching the thin gloves buttoned onto his hands. His hair is a little bit stringy, too long without a shower, but brushed, his mustache neat, though a little out of place against the stubble beginning to grow. Somebody has got to get the Southlands a semi-functional bathing set-up. And teach Mumbo how to shave without a safety razor.

His cheek has a smear of redstone across it—not out of place for Mumbo, but in this world, in these times—

Grian forces a smile, and Mumbo returns it, perhaps a little confused.

“A final death,” he says. “Nobody can die on Red, all right? I’m afraid of permadeath. Until then, I’ll keep working through options.”

“And if someone dies on Red. . . .”

“I’ll work through . . . other options.”

-

After all his trouble, it’s Grian who kills Jimmy.

He’s frantic in his defenses afterward, because Jimmy did attack him and definitely deserved it—even if the flash of fear in Jimmy’s eyes had almost made him reconsider—but that means that they’re right back where they were the first time and Grian can’t risk losing even one person.

If he tried to end the game now, send everyone home, would they ever get Jimmy back?

The first time, they all came back. They played the game through and everyone died but they all came back for round two, so if. . . .

Grian plunges his blood-soaked sword into Mumbo’s chest and hopes he knows what he’s doing.

-

“Nice ranch you’ve got here!”

“Best one in town,” Scott says, smirking a little. “Are you and Scar interested in coming by, still? I’ve already had several satisfied clients. They left good reviews and everything.”

“Eh, our relationship’s fine,” Grian waves him off. He hikes his backpack up a little further on his shoulders, fingering the strap. “I’ve actually got him doing some work around the house, for once. We’re all good.”

Scott raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure BigB would beg to differ.”

Grian chokes. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t you have some sort of, like, doctor-patient confidentiality policy?”

“I’m not board-approved, by any legal means,” laughs Scott. “Not like we can contact anyone outside, you know. No board to approve me.”

Grian looks away. If he really got his hands in the code, he probably could set up some sort of outside contact. He hadn’t thought it possible at first, but the longer he stares at the form of the world, the more he thinks he could manage something like that with only a bit more trouble than normal.

He doesn’t even try. The fact that it would take more trouble means that there is something that doesn’t want him to do it, and he isn’t trying to bring any sort of wrath down upon them. He turns a blind eye to that, and to any other roadblocks he finds to be less block-y than he originally thought.

There’s a game he’s supposed to play, he’s sure of it. They have to make it to the end with all of them alive. It seems impossible, but it can’t be. It’s just another roadblock that will soon be proved to be no more than a casual obstruction.

He’s going to keep them all alive. Starting with his soulmate, probably.

“I should get back,” he says finally. “Scar’s probably about to burn something down.”

He turns, starts the walk home, under the giant ‘R’ marking the entrance to the Relationship Ranch.

“You can’t keep running away, Grian,” Scott calls after him, and Grian freezes.

His heart goes still in his chest.

Scott doesn’t know anything. He can’t. None of them know. None of them are aware that this is the third time they’ve been through this. He’s happy to let them live under the delusion that this is the first and only game, that he’ll get it all sorted and they have nothing to worry about.

He hasn’t felt so alone in a while.

How could he not, surrounded by the very people he was trying to save, unable to explain a thing to them? Unable to tell them how helpless he feels, how he can’t seem to figure it out?

It’s easier to turn away from them. It’s easier to pretend that he doesn’t really care. Or that he cares about someone else.

He has to save them, and no one else knows it.

Scott doesn’t know it.

Grian doesn’t look back at him. He swallows, then says, voice falsely cheery, “You’re right. As hard as I try, Scar always manages to find me. Might as well find him first.”

A beat passes.

“Sure,” Scott says, voice utterly unreadable, before brightening. “Have fun! Let me know if you two need a session!”

Grian leaves, and he returns to his base, and he resolves to make it work this time.

You can’t save them all.

And he doesn’t.

Jimmy dies again, and everyone else follows.

-

In Grian’s defense, Jimmy’s been making annoying jokes all day, so it’s well-deserved when he laughs at Jimmy tripping.

His stomach swoops in the worst possible way, though, when Jimmy’s arms reach back up as he tips backward off the bridge, confusion and fear flooding his face as he falls off Bread Bridge.

Grian moves to help, but he’s too far away—Jimmy died first last time, just like the other times, it’s an established pattern in the loop and if Jimmy falls now he may lose enough time to go down to Red and that’ll put him firmly in the realm of first death which would mean Grian’s failed again—

But Joel grabs Jimmy by the arm of his jean jacket, heaving him back up onto the bridge, and Grian’s left to just take Jimmy by the collar and pull him toward their base, not sure what else to do with all this sudden adrenaline.

“Timmy, you can’t just fall like that—what on earth were you thinking, Martyn put all that blue glass down there—lucky we were there—”

“I’m just—” Jimmy pushes Grian off of him as they cross into the loaf of bread that Grian had built for his few possessions, one hand on the doorknob. “I’m fine. Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Well, obviously not, seeing as Jimmy managed to fill Grian with more dread than he’s felt all game in that one moment, and if he’d been thinking he wouldn’t have done anything like that.

“Leave off it,” Joel tells Grian, one hand resting on Jimmy’s shoulder. “You good?” he asks Jimmy, who shrugs.

“Got a bit dizzy.”

Joel’s eyes narrow, his face takes on some sort of protectiveness that Grian doesn’t see often, hasn’t seen since last game, with Etho and that stupid ship.

Did Grian miss something?

“Dizzy, sure. Did you sleep last night?”

Jimmy shrugs again, but he sways just slightly, and his eyes slide guiltily to the side.

“Right,” Joel declares. “If you didn’t sleep—”

“I slept!” protests Jimmy. “I did, promise! I’m just—”

“You didn’t sleep?” Grian butts in, feeling a little left out. “Tim, come on.”

Joel sends him some sort of—some odd look, almost . . . almost angry, or something. “Grian—”

“We’ve got to stay well-rested, and all that,” he continues, ignoring Joel. He’s in charge of the Bad Boys, after all. “You’re bringing down the team, Tim. I wouldn’t do that to you guys, would I?”

It’s supposed to be a joke, kind of, but nobody laughs. Nobody rolls their eyes, groans, or mocks Grian.

Jimmy glances at Joel. He looks more than exhausted, for that brief second—like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, not like he’d just missed a night of sleep.

Joel grimaces back at him, and squeezes his shoulder, and Jimmy just sighs.

“I’m gonna go . . . rest, I guess,” Jimmy mutters, turning back toward the door. “Take a nap. Sorry.”

He leaves, the door clanging shut behind him, and Joel watches him go before huffing loudly.

“Really?” Joel asks, turning on Grian with—with aggression, aggression that feels wildly out of place for some lighthearted teasing. His eyes have gone hard, totally empty of the protectiveness they’d held for Jimmy. “You can go on and on about resting and supporting the team and all that, but we all know you’re full of it.”

What?

Now he really feels like he’s missing something.

“Dude, I just told him to rest,” Grian says, dumbfounded.

“Rest won’t help, and you know that. It’s your fault he almost fell, anyway—good I was there—”

“My fault? I—he’s just tired, he said he was tired!”

It must be the wrong thing to say, because Joel blows up.

“Yeah, Jimmy’s tired!” spits Joel, face contorted with anger. “He’s tired, I’m tired, we’re all blummin’ tired, Grian! We don’t want to be here!”

Grian gapes at him, utterly lost. He thought they were talking about Jimmy not sleeping, not—whatever this was?

“I’m sick of waiting here, like somehow it’ll all work out if all of us kill each other over and over—yeah, we’re tired! And it’s all your fault!”

“I—how is it my fault?” Grian tries to reason, still not quite sure what Joel’s on about. “I’m just trying to make sure—”

“Don’t you feed me that bloody—” Joel glowers at him—if Grian didn’t know any better, he’d say that Joel hated him—and shifts forward slightly, as if he’s about to strike him, but after a moment’s indecision he turns on his heel and strides back out the door, slamming it shut behind him with such force that the whole structure shakes.

Grian hears his heavy footsteps get further away, then the slamming of another door, before he’s left in silence.

“. . . What?” Grian says, a full minute after Joel’s stormed out, staring at where he had been.

What was that about?

It sounded like—well, it couldn’t be, but it sounded like Joel was referring to . . . everything. The loop, so to speak. Which is impossible, because, well. . . .

Nobody else is aware of the loop. Grian’s certain at this point that he’s the only one aware, because nobody else has ever brought it up or referenced one of the past games, and he’s been met with stares when he suggests old alliances reform (like the way Etho had raised an eyebrow this game when Grian suggested he team with Joel, or the way Martyn had dismissed Ren with a totally blank face in the second game, or Jimmy and Scott’s light rivalry last time with no recognition for their once-bond), and everyone seems to be focused on winning more than any real problem-solving.

So there’s no way that Joel was referencing the loop. He doesn’t know about it. None of them know that this is the fourth time that Grian’s gone through this, and no matter how tired they are, he’s got to be more so.

Right?

Right. Of course he’s right.

And he’ll figure it out. He really will! He can’t be too far off, really. He hasn’t even looked at the code of this world, yet, but he already knows this song and dance. He’s so certain that if he can get everyone to survive, they’ll have passed whatever cosmic test they’ve been set to.

He just needs to find a way to stop people from dying, and he’ll be set. Which, of course, starts with Jimmy, because Jimmy’s died first in the past three worlds and he’ll die first here, too.

Unless Grian can prevent it.

And Grian plans on preventing it.

You can’t save them all, whispers that voice in the back of his mind, and it sounds almost like Joel.

And when Jimmy dies first, he doesn’t.

-

It’s the fifth time through, and Jimmy doesn’t die first.

It—

That can’t be possible.

In fact, it’s Lizzie who dies first (and he’d been so relieved to see her in this game, knowing that he lost her before), followed by Mumbo (Grian had actually cried to see him on the playerlist, another that had been gone, lost to who knows what, suddenly returned without question or complaint), and then Jimmy.

Grian thinks he might tear his hair out, because Jimmy—Jimmy was the connecting thread, Jimmy dying first was one of the few patterns that he’d discovered, and losing this pattern is dashing all of his hypotheses to nothing.

Jimmy’s dead, but not first, and Grian isn’t going to save them this time around.

-

Grian peers over the edge of their makeshift fort in the sky, down toward the ground—though in the darkness, he can’t see anything more than vague shapes.

Cleo sighs from somewhere near. Grian likes having allies—Cleo’s here, slumped against the wall as she yawns and waits, and Etho’s beside her, sorting through his potions and arrows to make sure he’s ready for the upcoming battle.

They should both be sleeping, really. Grian can take first watch and switch off after a few hours, and then they’ll all be better-rested in the morning.

He can see, though, off past Etho, that lights still burn up on the hill at Gem’s place. . . .

The fight might come before sunrise.

“Have you tried just . . . banning one of us from the server?” Cleo asks sleepily, pulling their cloak up a bit higher on their shoulders.

Etho clicks his tongue. “C’mon, Cleo. He’s tried everything, otherwise we wouldn’t still be here.”

“What?” Grian asks, not realizing, at first, that Cleo was addressing him.

Cleo waves vaguely. “You know. Banning one of us. Get us out of this hell.”

Grian swallows, looks away.

Has he tried banning someone?

He doesn’t think so. For a lot of things, he’s checked the code to see if it would be possible theoretically instead of just going for it, but he doesn’t remember looking at the ban command at all.

“Well, I can’t do it right now,” he reasons. “Some of us are already dead, you know? I don’t want to leave them cut off.”

“I’d prefer it to this, I think,” Cleo mutters, and Etho nudges her with his foot.

“It’s not too bad,” Etho says fairly. “But I do want to get out, Grian. Need any help on that front?”

Grian shrugs. “I’ve looked at everything,” he says (lies, he lies, he never even opened the code on this world, he barely touched it on the last one). “I feel like I’ve hit a bit of a dead end, you know?”

“Maybe a fresh eye would help.”

“Maybe later.”

There won’t be a later. Etho won’t remember this conversation.

Grian makes the mistake of looking up to meet Etho’s eyes, then can’t tear his gaze away as they lock, stuck in place.

Etho frowns.

“Okay,” he says, tone far too light. “Soon, then.”

Grian finally looks away, toward Cleo, who rolls their eyes.

“I’m just tired of seeing your face,” she gripes. “Next time, I’m gonna kill you. I don’t think I’ve gotten the chance to, yet.”

“We’re on Red,” Grian waves off. “There won’t be a next time.”

“I mean, next-next time,” Cleo says casually. “Whatever the next gimmick will be. Then I’ll kill you.”

Grian’s stomach goes cold.

What?

No.

No, that can’t—that isn’t—

“What—Cleo, what are you talking about?” Grian asks, forcing his voice not to tremble.

Cleo and Etho exchange a look (and Grian is reminded of last time, of Joel and Jimmy grimacing at each other).

“Do you—Grian, do you not remember?” Cleo asks.

“No, of course he remembers.”

“Right, but what if he doesn’t? It makes sense, doesn’t it? Of course he’s not figured it out yet if he can’t remember.”

“What don’t I remember?” demands Grian.

There’s no way they’re talking about this being the fifth time, there’s no way. He’s the only one who remembers it, he’s the only one tracking the patterns, it just isn’t possible.

There’s no way.

There’s really no way.

Cleo opens their mouth, but before they can say anything, an arrow whizzes over their head. She ducks, already grabbing her bow, and Etho leaps up, peers over the edge.

“I didn’t think they could reach,” Grian says, dropping the discussion of the moment prior for the matter at hand. “Can you see them? Who is it?”

Cleo shoots him one last look that Grian doesn’t attempt to understand.

They don’t remember. If they remember, it means that everyone remembers, and everyone has remembered this whole time. That means they’ve been playing along, waiting for him to get them out, looping with him.

No.

No, no no no no no.

He won’t—he can’t believe that. He has to save them, he has to get them out of here, and that can’t happen if they know how he keeps failing. He can’t fail them all!

They don’t remember. He decides that, he ignores every little moment that hasn’t added up—Mumbo’s confusion, Scott’s ominous words, Joel’s anger, and this—and he fights, because next time he’ll save them, next time he’ll win this stupid game, and none of them will ever know how long it was.

He’ll save them.

You can’t save them all.

-

Respawn?

Yes.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Will you fail?

Yes.

You can’t save them all.

[goldiipond]

carrying your friends around is a love language <3

[pickletrip]

This is all I needed!!!!

[thisonetimeinmeridian]

I miss Gendrya, they were my happy place. I miss thinking about them.