#Youth Basketball Coach

[medinabasketball]

Mastering the Art of Basketball Coaching for Youth: Proven Methods and Best Practices

Imagine a 10-year-old boy named Alex, who, despite his passion for basketball, struggled with basic skills and confidence. Under the guidance of a dedicated coach who believed in the power of positive reinforcement and structured practice, Alex transformed over a single season. His dribbling became sharper, his shooting more accurate, and, most importantly, his self-esteem soared. This is just one of many stories illustrating how effective coaching can profoundly impact young athletes. Research shows that youth who participate in well-coached sports programs are more likely to experience higher self-esteem, better academic performance, and improved physical health. The role of a coach extends far beyond teaching the technical skills of the game; it involves mentoring, motivating, and fostering a lifelong love for basketball in young players. By mastering the art of coaching, you can significantly influence your players' development both on and off the court.

Physical and Psychological Growth

Youth athletes undergo significant physical changes as they grow, and understanding these stages is crucial for effective coaching. In early childhood (ages 5-7), children are developing basic motor skills like running, jumping, and throwing. They have high energy levels but limited attention spans. During middle childhood (ages 8-10), coordination improves, and they begin to develop more refined skills. By late childhood (ages 11-13), players experience growth spurts and increased strength, which can affect balance and coordination temporarily. Adolescence (ages 14 and up) brings further physical changes, including muscle development and increased stamina, but also the need to adjust to their rapidly changing bodies.

Understanding the psychological development of youth athletes is equally important. Young children are motivated by fun and the joy of participation. As they grow older, their motivation can be influenced by a desire to improve, compete, and be part of a team. Building confidence in young players is essential; it comes from positive reinforcement, success in skill development, and a supportive environment. Social skills also develop through team activities, teaching players about cooperation, communication, and handling both success and failure with grace.

Setting Realistic Expectations

Balancing Skill Development with Enjoyment: One of the key challenges in coaching youth basketball is balancing skill development with ensuring that players enjoy the game. Practices should be structured to include both skill drills and fun activities. Young athletes should feel that they are making progress, but not at the expense of losing interest in the sport. Games, challenges, and varied drills keep practices engaging and enjoyable. Remember, the primary goal at this stage is to foster a love for the game, which naturally drives skill improvement.

Recognizing Individual Progress: Each player develops at their own pace, and it's important to recognize and celebrate individual progress. Set personalized goals that are achievable and specific to each player's abilities and development stage. Provide regular, constructive feedback, focusing on effort and improvement rather than just outcomes. Recognize that progress can come in many forms, whether it's improved dribbling skills, better teamwork, or increased confidence on the court. By acknowledging and celebrating these small victories, you can keep players motivated and invested in their growth.

Building a Strong Foundation

Fundamental Skills

Mastering the fundamental skills of basketball is crucial for young players, as these skills form the foundation upon which all advanced techniques are built.

Dribbling: This is the most basic yet vital skill. Good dribbling allows players to move effectively on the court, maintain control of the ball, and create opportunities for their team.

Cone Dribbling: Set up cones in a line and have players dribble in and out, using both hands.

Figure Eight Dribbling: Players dribble the ball in a figure-eight pattern around their legs, improving ball control and hand coordination.

Shooting: Scoring points is the primary objective in basketball, making shooting a critical skill. Proper shooting technique ensures accuracy and consistency.

Form Shooting: Focus on shooting technique by practicing close-range shots with correct form.

Spot Shooting: Set up spots on the floor and have players take shots from each spot, emphasizing consistency and accuracy.

Passing: Basketball is a team sport, and effective passing is essential for maintaining possession, setting up plays, and creating scoring opportunities.

Chest Pass Drill: Players pair up and practice chest passes, focusing on accuracy and catching technique.

Passing in Motion: Incorporate movement by having players pass while running or cutting, simulating game situations.

Defense: Defense is key to preventing the opposing team from scoring. Understanding defensive stances, positioning, and strategies helps young players contribute effectively to their team’s defensive efforts.

Defensive Slide Drill: Teach players to move laterally in a defensive stance without crossing their feet.

1-on-1 Defense: Pair up players to practice guarding an opponent, emphasizing positioning and staying in front of the ball handler.

Engaging Methods to Teach Rules and Game Etiquette

Making the learning process interactive and fun is key to maintaining young players' interest and ensuring they grasp the rules effectively:

Rule-Based Games: Create mini-games that focus on specific rules. For example, play a game where players can only dribble three times before passing, reinforcing the concept of traveling.

Role-Playing: Have players take turns acting as referees during scrimmages. This helps them understand the rules from a different perspective and promotes fair play.

Reward Systems: Use positive reinforcement to encourage learning and adherence to rules. Reward players who demonstrate good understanding and application of the rules with praise or small incentives.

Fostering Team Dynamics

Activities to Promote Teamwork and Communication

Building a cohesive team is essential for success in youth basketball. Strong team dynamics not only improve on-court performance but also create a positive and supportive environment for young players.

Communication Drills: Implement drills that require players to communicate effectively. For example, a "no-dribble" game where players must pass and move without dribbling encourages constant communication.

Team Challenges: Organize challenges that require teamwork to solve. This could be a basketball-related obstacle course or a team relay race.

Buddy System: Pair up players to work on specific drills or tasks during practice. This promotes accountability and fosters closer relationships between teammates.

Team Meetings: Regularly hold team meetings where players can discuss goals, strategies, and any issues they might be facing. Encourage open communication and ensure every player has a voice.

Role of Team-Building Exercises in Developing Trust and Camaraderie

Team-building exercises are crucial in creating an environment where players trust and rely on each other. These activities help develop a sense of camaraderie that translates into better teamwork on the court.

Trust Falls: A classic exercise where players fall backward into the arms of their teammates, emphasizing trust and support.

Off-Court Activities: Plan events outside of regular practice, such as team dinners, movie nights, or outings. These informal settings allow players to bond in a relaxed environment.

Role-Playing Games: Engage in games that require players to take on different roles, such as leading a drill or acting as a coach. This helps them understand and appreciate each other’s perspectives.

Shared Goals: Create team goals that everyone works towards, such as achieving a certain number of passes in a game or maintaining a positive attitude throughout the season. Celebrate achievements together to reinforce the team spirit.

Engaging Parents and Community

Building Relationships with Parents

Effective communication with parents is crucial for the success of a youth basketball program. Clear and consistent communication helps align everyone’s expectations and fosters a supportive environment for the players.

Regular Updates: Provide regular updates on the team’s progress, practice schedules, and upcoming events through emails, newsletters, or a dedicated team app.

Parent Meetings: Hold preseason and midseason meetings to discuss goals, expectations, and any changes in plans. Use these meetings to answer questions and address concerns.

Open Door Policy: Encourage parents to communicate with you directly about any issues or questions they might have. Being approachable and responsive builds trust and collaboration.

Setting Expectations: Clearly outline the goals of the program and what is expected from both players and parents. This includes practice attendance, behavior, and involvement in team activities.

Involving Parents in the Team’s Journey

Involving parents in the team’s journey not only builds a sense of community but also provides valuable support for the team.

Volunteer Opportunities: Invite parents to volunteer for various roles such as team manager, scorekeeper, or event organizer. Their involvement can significantly ease the administrative burden on the coach.

Parent Committees: Form committees for different aspects of the team’s operations, such as fundraising, travel arrangements, or social events. This allows parents to take an active role in the team’s success.

Family Events: Organize events that include both players and their families, such as potlucks, picnics, or family game nights. These activities strengthen the bond between families and the team.

Recognition and Appreciation: Show appreciation for the parents’ support through thank-you notes, awards, or special acknowledgments during events. Recognizing their contributions fosters goodwill and continued involvement.

Ultimately, the impact of good coaching extends far beyond the basketball court. Coaches who are dedicated to the holistic development of their players help them build confidence, learn valuable life skills, and develop a lifelong love for the game. The proven methods and best practices discussed in this blog are designed to equip you with the tools and insights needed to become an exceptional youth basketball coach.

As you continue on this rewarding journey, remember that your role as a coach is to inspire, mentor, and nurture the next generation of athletes. By implementing these strategies and fostering a positive and supportive environment, you can make a lasting impact on your players’ lives, both on and off the court.

[townpostin]

New Archery Center Inaugurated for Jamshedpur Youth

MLA Saryu Roy opens Bal Dhanurdhar facility at Sidhgora Krida Udyan Jamshedpur’s budding archers now have access to professional training as the city unveils a new archery center aimed at nurturing young talent. JAMSHEDPUR – A new chapter in Jamshedpur’s sporting landscape unfolded with the inauguration of the Bal Dhanurdhar Archery Training Center at Sidhgora Krida Udyan on Sunday. MLA Roy…

[hughesrory]

A Coach On The Brink

Nine seconds left. Bucks are down two.  They’ve got to get it up the floor quickly to tie or win the game. The coach has a timeout to burn but decides not to interrupt the flow of the game because his team has been on a furious comeback. The point guard brings it up, dribbles to space, looks for teammates. No one’s open. 6. 5. 4. 3. He struggles to get a shot off. 2. 1. His shot’s…

[touchingtheawesome]

Coaching Young Hoopsters: A First-Time Coach's Guide to Youth Basketball

Stepping into the role of a basketball coach for grades 3-5 can be as exciting as it is daunting. Young players at this age are not just developing their skills but also their love for the game. This guide is tailored for first-time youth basketball coaches, offering tips on drills, offensive and defensive strategies, and how to nurture core basketball skills in your young athletes. Drills to…

[cato-of-blamesociety]

Week 15, Take Me Home | 32weeks Remix

Full video:

[birdiedee]

"my son turned out fine!!"

ur son is in my dms instead of communicating with his wife about their troubled marriage because he never knew what a healthy relationship looked like and also because he grew up with an angry, bitter, neglectful, entitled, & cowardly man as a model for masculinity

"my son turned out fine!!"

ur son is in my dms calling himself daddy because he wants to be the father he never had

[basketball-lesbians]

y'all i just wanna talk about how much of a generational talent azzi fudd truly is for a sec.

as a kid, her dad would saran wrap her right arm to her body so she would learn to dribble ambidextrously.

she literally grew up on the basketball court with both her parents working im coaching/training roles.

at 14, steph curry himself said she has one of the most perfect shots he's ever seen.

as a teenager she made team USA and played in the youth olympics at least a year above her age level 3 separate times.

achieved multiple insane accolades in hs, literally too many to name, but to name a few: gatorade POTY, mcdonalds' all american, USA today POTY.

was the first female ever signed to the curry brand and the first ever highschool student as well.

graduated highschool the number one recruit in her year group even after missing a year of playtime due to an ACL tear.

committed to UCONN and has suffered through a lot with different injuries but has never complained or made excuses, only adapted her training and conditioning and worked to come back even better than before- even after a second ACL reconstruction.

on top of all of that, everyone who has played with her says she's one of the most kind and empathetic people they've ever had as a teammate.

she's such an amazing person and player, we are so lucky to be living in the same timeline as her fr.

[bapeach]

KK's "twin"

This is my longest fic so far and I'm gonna be honest, it's not great. I lowkey hate it because the ending is very rushed and I don't love the overall vibe, but I also didn't wanna just get rid of the whole thing. I promise I'll try to post a better fic soon! I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes and as always I hope you enjoy. :) (Also, I'm sorry if the translated part is incorrect, my French isn't what it used to be 😅) Find my masterlist here :)

Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader  Word count: 7.1k+  Summary: When the team finally gets to meet KK's beloved cousin, Paige realizes that her type has changed. ------------

Today was the day. The day you’d finally visit KK at UConn, and she couldn’t be more excited. You were KK’s 2-year-older cousin, and honestly? She thought of you as her role model. Every time she saw you, she’d beg you to transfer to UConn so you two could hang out more. You never really paid any mind to it, though. You liked your own school, had great friends, and had a starting position on your basketball team. Of course, you missed the younger girl when you didn’t see each other for months at a time, her being your favorite cousin and all, but it wasn’t enough for you to enter the transfer portal. 

KK looked as if she was about to combust, unable to sit still in her excitement. “You guys are gonna love her so much! She’s so funny. I mean, not as funny as I am, but still! She’s like my twin, for real,” KK gushed to her team as they all sat in the locker room getting ready for practice. She ignored the looks the girls gave each other, continuing to sing your praises, too enthusiastic to let them bring her mood down. 

It’s not like the team wasn’t looking forward to meeting you. Not at all! It’s just that they’d had to listen to KK’s excited rambling for days now, and it was getting a little old. Hell, they hadn’t even met you and they already knew your favorite foods, the movies you liked, the inside jokes you two had and even the name of your first pet! So, yeah, the girls were getting a little tired of the young guard’s constant yapping. They were also a bit nervous. They loved KK to bits, but they weren’t sure they’d be able to handle two of her. 

KK was no doubt the life of the party, always hyping people up and bringing smiles to everyone’s faces. Some people said she reminded them of a puppy with her endless energy and youthful joy. This was often a good thing, seeing as there was never a boring moment when she was around. The older teammates did, however, have to rein her in a bit when things got too chaotic and loud. So, yeah, the fact that there would be two of her, both constantly egging each other on, was a bit scary.

As the girls make their way to the court, KK continues talking about all the things you guys would do when you got here and how she was going to convince you to transfer. “It’s gonna work this time!” she swore. Seeing coach Geno already there waiting for them, the basketball players step up their pace, trying not to piss off the older man (Okay, and maybe to get away from KK, though they’d never admit that to the girl).

Once they’re all huddled around the coach, listening to today’s plans, Paige looks over at Nika across from her. The blonde raises her eyebrows, widening her eyes as she huffs a little, as if to say, “Finally, she’s quiet,” making Nika grin. Azzi, having seen the whole interaction, gives Paige a push and shakes her head with an eye roll and a smile. The blue-eyed guard simply sends her a playful wink, letting her know she’s just kidding. As the team scatters to start their drills, Paige walks over to KK, slinging an arm around her. While she’d rather not hear about how good of a basketball player you are or how well you pull off pranks, again, she knows it’ll make her friend happy.

Having been split up into groups, KK, Paige, Azzi, Nika, and Aaliyah walk over to one side of the gym for their exercises. “So, at what time is this legendary Y/N even coming?” the Croatian girl asks. “Uhh, she said she’d probably get here a little after practice ends,” KK replies with a beaming smile. “You guys will join us for lunch, right?” she asks, looking up at Paige with wide, hopeful eyes. The blonde catches the ball Aaliyah throws at her, bouncing it on the floor a few times as she looks at the teammates. Seeing them all nod with a shrug, she smiles at the freshman, “Sure thing, KK.”.

While you had originally planned on arriving a little after practice, letting KK shower and get ready in peace, you’d changed your plans. Your coach, an old friend of Geno’s, had let UConn’s coach know you’d be touring the university. The older man had given you a call, letting you know you could stop by practice if you wanted to “see how they do it in Connecticut”. You’d agreed, letting him know you appreciated the invitation. You had to admit, you were excited. You’d get to see your best friend in action, meet her beloved team, and scout the competition a little. 

Arriving at Gampel Pavilion, you eagerly make your way inside. You open the big double doors to the court, making sure not to slam them so as to not disturb the players. You immediately walk over to coach Auriemma, shaking his hand and telling him it’s an honor to meet him. While you loved your own coach dearly and were thankful for everything she’d done for you, part of you wishes you’d committed to UConn to learn from the Geno Auriemma. 

As you two talk about your basketball experiences, you hear a loud yell. “TWINNNN!” KK screams, sprinting over to you. You barely have enough time to turn around to catch the younger girl as she flings herself at you. You stumble back a bit before catching your footing and gripping her tightly. “Hey there, Kiddo,” you chuckle at her glee and the way she’s clinging onto you. When she finally lets you go, you take a step back, crossing your arms with a tiny smirk on your face. Her team had walked over after hearing the commotion, wanting to finally meet the amazing Y/N.

When KK had called you her twin and a slightly less cool version of herself, the athletes had not expected this. Paige gulped nervously, giving you a once-over. You stood next to KK, towering over her as you matched Jana’s height, standing at 6’5”. You were wearing a navy shirt with black Nike sweats and matching sneakers, a dog tag necklace glinting on your chest. Your arms were covered with patchwork tattoos while a nose piercing twinkled under the bright gym lights. Paige had seen you were wearing a few chunky rings when you were hugging KK, one of which looked like a snake coiling around your finger. 

Your dark eyes roam over the team, making some of the younger girls shift their weight a little, feeling slightly intimidated by your intense vibe. If you didn’t look so scary, the team would’ve laughed at the stark difference between you and KK. While the shorter girl gave off golden retriever vibes, you were like a black cat. Your sharp jaw and big muscles made sure people didn’t mess with you, and the smirk on your face made you look like you knew everyone’s secrets. You looked fearless. 

While Paige was always pretty confident and never really got nervous around anyone, she felt her throat go dry as her hands became clammy the longer she looked at you. “Hey, I’m Y/N,” you said, your voice low and steady. Paige felt a wave of emotion wash over her, but she couldn’t figure out which one. 

You see the girl you recognize as Nika open her mouth to introduce herself. Before she gets the chance to, KK starts introducing everyone, adding her usual sass. Though you were already familiar with everyone, your cousin having shown you plenty of pictures of everyone, all with funny stories attached to them, you give her your full attention with a soft grin.

“..., and that’s Azzi, she’s coach’s favorite,” she playfully frowns before finishing the introductions, “And that over there is P Boogers, she always bullies me.” You look over as KK points at each girl, hearing Paige scoff at the freshman’s description of herself. You look the blonde up and down, raising an eyebrow in amusement as she catches your eye, a blush creeping up her face. “Cute,” you think to yourself. 

“Nice to meet you guys! KK has told me all about you,” you say with a grin, slinging your arm over KK’s shoulder as you rub her head in a teasing way. You hear the girls laugh as your cousin pushes you away with a huff. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be here until after practice?” she questions, fixing her hair. “What? And miss seeing you in action?” you smirk. 

“Alright ladies, this is all very sweet, but we’ve still got 30 minutes of practice left, so let’s keep going! You need to warm up, kid, or are you good to go?” coach Geno calls out, turning to you towards the end of his sentence. “I’m ready, sir,” you grin. He sends you a nod, bouncing a basketball your way. You catch it before letting it spin on your pointer finger. “Alright huskies, split up into teams for a scrimmage. I trust you’re all old enough to choose your own team without fighting!” the coach's voice booms loudly.

KK immediately jumps on your back, yelling, “Dibs!”, right into your ear. You wince, telling her to get off as you roll your eyes. You pretend you’re annoyed, but it’s clear that you’re just kidding, finding it endearing how much the younger girl clings to you. 

During the scrimmage, you impress the athletes around you with your near-perfect shots, great form, and high basketball IQ. “No wonder she’s a starter for her team,” the girl sporting a #5 jersey thinks to herself. While she usually never really struggles to lock in and focus on the game, she finds herself getting distracted by the way you move with power yet grace. 

After you finish your game, your team having won by 2 points, you get a few pats on the shoulder from the girls. “Not too shabby,” Nika teases with a smirk. “Yeah, KK could learn a thing or two from you,” Ice says with a mischievous grin, narrowly avoiding a slap aimed at her arm by the girl in question. “See what I mean? I’m always getting bullied for no reason,” the freshman complains with a frown. “It’s okay, Kiddo… I’m sure you’ll be as good as me one day,” you say, patting her shoulder before sending her a smirk as you finish your sentence. 

“Heyyyy! You guys are so rude,” she groans before stomping off to the locker room. You only chuckle, walking over to the sidelines where you’d left your bag. You bend down to grab your bottle, squeezing some water into your mouth. Once you feel refreshed, you close the lid, wiping away the drops that missed your mouth. 

As you look up, you see Paige staring at you, swallowing harshly before looking away once you make eye contact. You grin to yourself before lifting your bag over your shoulder and following the girls towards the locker room. As you pass by Paige, who tries her best but fails to avoid looking at you, you send her a wink. This is gonna be fun.

Once everyone is ready, you decide to split up into different cars to meet up at your nearest McDonald’s. Of course, KK sprints off towards your car before anyone else has time to decide who will drive. You just chuckle, crossing your arms as you look at the other girls to see who else will join you. “Nika, Paige, and I will also come with you if that’s okay?” Azzi smiles softly at you. “Fine by me,” you return the gesture. “Alright, cool,” Nika says. You all turn towards Paige when you don’t hear a reaction from her. 

It’s not like Paige wanted to ignore the conversation happening around her. She just couldn’t stop looking at the way your muscles were flexing as you crossed your arms. It’s not like she had a crush on you or anything! She was just… appreciating your physique! Yeah, that’s it! 

You smirk a little as Azzi nudges Paige. Heat creeps up the blonde’s face as she realizes everyone is looking at her, waiting for a reply. “Uh, yeah! Yeah, that’s cool,” she stutters, hoping that she replied the right thing to whatever they’d just asked her. You chuckle softly as you turn around and start walking toward where KK is impatiently waiting. “God, took you guys long enough! Let’s gooooo, I’m hungry,” she complains. 

Once everyone gets into the car, you plug in your phone and start playing your latest playlist. Making sure everyone is wearing their seatbelt, you shift the car into gear and start driving. You spend the next 15 minutes listening to KK’s chatting, smacking her hand away from your phone whenever she tries to change a song. Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you glance into your rearview mirror, once again making eye contact with Paige. You send her a soft smile, not wanting to embarrass her. She sends you a nervous smile before turning back to Nika, who was mumbling something about her psychology class.

When you arrive at the fast food joint, you all pile through the door, moving towards the nearest free tables. The conversation flows easily between you and the team, everyone becoming more at ease in your presence. While you were definitely a lot scarier than KK, you two did share some similar traits. Both of your smiles could light up a dark room, you had the same humor (though KK’s was a bit more immature), and you had the same mannerisms. The longer you all hung out, the more everyone realized that though you looked like you could easily knock them out, you were very kind. You always gave your full attention to everyone talking to you, never interrupting them. You made sure to include the quieter girls when you thought they might feel left out. You shared your food with the ball of energy next to you without a word, simply pushing your fries closer to her…

Paige couldn’t help feeling warmth spread through her chest. It’s just… it was sweet to see you treat one of her favorite people with so much love… “Yeah, that’s it,” the UConn star thought to herself. She simply appreciates you as a person and could see herself becoming really good friends with you!

Paige gets shaken out of her thoughts as she hears Azzi speak. “So Y/N, how come you didn’t commit to UConn?”. She turns to you, seeing you lean back a bit to cross your arms before replying. “Well, I actually almost enrolled here-” you start before getting interrupted by KK’s mumbling, “You should’ve”. You grin at her pouting before continuing, “It took me a while to choose a school. I had to pick between academics and athletics. While UConn is a really good uni for academics as well, my university just had a better program.”

Paige bites her lip as she watches you talk. It was so alluring. The way you were able to keep everyone’s attention with your low, raspy voice. “While I obviously love basketball, it felt less important to me than my studies. Besides, it’s not like my school’s basketball team sucks, they’re great! Maybe not UConn great, but we can hold our own,” you grin, hearing the girls around you chuckle. 

“You know, KK has talked about you nonstop for days, but we still don’t even know what your major is,” Aaliyah says. You shake your head in amusement at the young girl’s ability to say so much while simultaneously not really saying anything at all. “I’m an English major,” you say with a small smile. “Oooh, so you know all the big words? Fancy,” Nika says with a teasing smile on her face. “She does!” KK raves, “She can also speak like 10 languages!”. 

You roll your eyes at the exaggeration, but your smile grows with her enthusiasm. “Okay, chill, it’s not that many.” “You speak other languages? Which ones?” Nika asks, leaning forward with interest. “Well, obviously I speak English,” you grin as everyone chuckles. “But besides that, I can also speak French, Spanish, and a bit of German… Oh! And I’ve been learning a bit of sign language on the side, but I’m still looking for proper classes for that,” you explain. Looking around, you see everyone’s eyes widen as their mouths drop open. “Holy shit!” you hear someone mumble. 

“Yo, you should say something in French!” you hear Ice say. “Uh, sure, what do you want me to say?” you ask. You see the girls all look at each other, trying to find something you could say. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?” you hear Azzi’s soft voice beside you as she sends you a gentle smile. “Alright, let’s see,” you clear your throat. 

“Bonjour, je m'appelle Y/N ! J'ai vingt ans et j'étudie l'anglais. Mon hobby est le basket-ball, bien sûr, mais j'aime aussi lire. Je suis fille unique, mais j'ai quelques cousins dont je suis assez proche. Mon meilleur ami est KK. Uhhh, je n'ai pas de petite amie mais j'y travaille,” you say, looking at Paige for the last sentence with a mischievous grin. (“Hello, my name is Y/N! I'm twenty years old and I'm an English major. My hobby is basketball, of course, but I also like to read. I'm an only child, but I have a few cousins I'm quite close with. My best friend is KK. Uhhh, I don't have a girlfriend, but I'm working on that.”)

Paige flushes as she looks away. She’d been staring at you the whole time, chewing her lip. The blonde was completely enthralled by your French accent. Even speaking a different language, you spoke with full confidence, which sent another wave of emotion through her stomach. 

The girls around you look at you impressed. After explaining what you just said, skillfully leaving out the last part, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Before you’ve even fully disappeared from everyone’s view, Azzi knocks her elbow into Paige’s arm. Quickly looking away from your retreating figure, the blue-eyed girl looks at her best friend, letting her know she’s listening. “Hm?” she hums, pretending the brunette hadn’t caught her staring again.

“She’s so into you,” she replies in a hushed voice, making sure no one overheard her. “What?” Paige questions, her eyes wide. Her tone has a certain… desperation? No. Not desperation, because Paige doesn’t like you like that… she’s just uhh intrigued by you… Yeah, that sounds right…

“Mhmmm,” the team’s princess hums, “did you notice how she left out the last part of her translation?” “What?” Paige repeats, “Of course not, I can’t speak French… But you can!”. The blonde’s voice rises at the end of her sentence, gaining the attention of her team around her. She just grins at them sheepishly before asking Azzi to tell her what you’d said, her voice urgent.

The brunette shakes her head, chuckling in amusement at how smitten Paige already seemed, only having met you a few hours prior. “Calm down, lovergirl.” “Azz, come on! She’s gonna be back soon,” the enamored girl whines, acting like a little kid. Azzi rolls her eyes, leaning even closer to her best friend, “She said she’s not dating anyone… but she’s working on that…”. Paige frowns for a second. Not because she doesn’t like the idea of you dating anyone else! Just because she’s not sure what any of that has to do with her. “God, you’re so oblivious sometimes, P. Did you not see the way she was looking at you while she said that? The way she’s been looking at you this whole time actually?”

The star athlete doesn’t get the chance to reply, seeing as you’d already returned back to your seat. It was probably for the better though, sass clear on the blonde’s face. None of it mattered anyway. The blue-eyed girl is pretty sure you were looking at her the way you were looking at everyone. “And besides, even if she did like me, it’s not like I’d care… she’s not exactly my type,” the girl thought to herself. 

And you weren’t really. Paige had had her fair share of girlfriends and flings, all more on the… well… girly side. Girls that knew nothing about basketball, loved makeup, and were scared of breaking a nail. She’d never been with anyone taller than her. Someone that was more likely to carry her around on tiresome hiking dates. Paige wasn’t used to anyone being able to make her so flustered just by a simple look, always being the one to make other girls blush with a few well-aimed flirty grins. 

Azzi knew her best friend. She could read her like an open book even when she tried to be sneaky. Because let’s be honest, if there’s one thing Paige isn’t, it’s subtle. Whenever the blonde liked a girl, she’d stare at them, holding eye contact like her life depended on it and making them feel like they were the only people in the world. She’d flirt by annoying the hell out of them, knowing they couldn’t be mad at her when she’d send them her signature smirk. And so, because Azzi knows her so well, she could clearly tell that Paige was head over heels. It was cute to see the otherwise so confident girl flush red, stumble over her words, and zone out looking at you while still trying to deny her crush. 

“We should all hang out at Pazzi’s dorm!” KK says eagerly, “We can have a sleepover!”. Paige rolls her eyes at the ship name between her and her best friend. “‘Xcuse me? Do we not get any say in that?” she replies sassily. “Hmmm, no,” KK grins. “Whatever,” the blonde responds, faking her annoyance. She was actually pretty excited at the thought of spending more time with you. Of course, she didn’t let that show. She didn’t want Azzi to give her that knowing look of hers.

After finishing your meals and a lot more laughing, you all get up to go to Paige and Azzi’s dorm. As you’re walking towards your car, you let the girls go ahead of you, hanging back a little to keep talking to KK. You look up as you hear your cousin stop mid-sentence, a frown forming on her face. Paige, Azzi, and Nika had already reached your car, the blonde leaning against the passenger seat. “What? Nuh-uh, I get to sit in front!” KK speeds over with a scowl. “You snooze, you lose, Camera,” the blue-eyed girl smirks. “Y/N! Tell her to move,” your cousin demands, swiveling her head around and looking at you with a pout. You look between the two, both blue and brown eyes staring at you with hope. 

You shrug lightly with a smile, “Sorry kid, you should’ve called shotgun.” KK huffs as she stomps her foot, making her teammates laugh. “You’re supposed to be on my sideee,” she whines as you unlock the car and get in. You only chuckle, looking in your rearview mirror to see her pouting with her arms crossed. “Play nice, Kam,” you say with a warm smile. She replies by sticking her tongue out and looking away in annoyance. You can tell she’s not actually mad though, the corners of her mouth curling up against her will. You two could never stay mad at each other anyway, always apologizing within a few hours of an argument. 

As you’re driving and asking the directions from the blonde beside you, you can’t help stealing glances at her. She looked so peaceful, nodding along to the beat of the songs on the radio as she tapped her fingers against her thighs. You weren’t afraid to admit you were attracted to the well-known player, even before getting to know her. You’d seen quite a few of her games, even played against her one time (though she probably didn’t remember, you looked quite different back then, and your last name wasn’t that uncommon). You really admired the girl if you were being honest. 

On the court she was an amazing player, the stats proved that. And she didn't win all those prizes for nothing. You liked the way she never gave up. The way she led her team, even when they felt like all was lost. You also knew she had a really high basketball IQ, the way she seemed to be able to know what was gonna happen on the court before it had even happened.

Off the court she was a great person as well. You hadn't known her for that long, but KK had told you plenty of stories about all the funny moments she'd had with the blonde. During late-night facetimes, when the vibe had calmed down, KK would tell you all about how the #5 player had helped her. It didn’t matter if your cousin needed help with certain shots she struggled with or with her schoolwork, Paige was always there when she needed it. And anyone KK spoke of that highly? Well, they were immediately good in your book. 

When you guys are about halfway to campus, Paige's phone rings. Glancing over, you see the caller ID read Ice Spice. You could only assume it was the #25 player calling. You see the blonde scrunch her face together in confusion as she taps "Accept." "Wassup, Ice? You're on speaker," she says, holding the phone in between you two. "Hey, we were thinking of stopping at the store real quick to get some snacks. Whatchu guys want?" You hear Ice's voice crackle through the phone. You wait until everyone has answered before asking them to bring your favorite snack and drink. You also ask them to bring some other candy that you know KK really likes but always seems to forget about. As you look back, you see that the young girl has already long forgotten about the phone call, being too busy playing a game on her phone. You roll your eyes fondly.

When you get to the apartments, you park the car and walk towards the trunk. You hand everyone their bags, holding onto your own as well as your cousin's as you listen to her bicker with Paige. You hear Nika butt in every once in a while to tease both girls, her Croatian accent coming out a little. Walking up to the agreed-upon dorm, you fall back a little as you make quiet conversation with Azzi.

You really vibed with Azzi. She was calm and pretty quiet, but she didn't bite her tongue when she disagreed with something. You liked how mature she was but still managed to quip back with a witty comeback to make everyone laugh. 

You liked the whole team, really. The way they all acted like older sisters to KK. While being around the same age as her, you tell they felt a sense of protectiveness over your baby cousin. You saw as they all took turns making sure she was okay, keeping an eye out for her at all times. It warmed your heart.

When you all reach the dorm, you walk in, putting down your and KK’s bags somewhere near the door. “Y/N! Sit next to me!” KK hollers from where she’s seated on the couch. You chuckle in amusement as you walk over, plopping down next to her. You sling an arm around her and pull her a little closer. You feel the freshman relax against you as you both listen to Paige and Nika’s bickering. Azzi sits down next to you, giving you a gentle smile before turning to give her best friend a disapproving look as the girl says something out of pocket to Nika.

Sitting here, totally at ease, made you realize that in the few hours you’d known the girls, they’d made you feel completely at home in their little group. You continue to listen to the chattering around you, joining the conversation whenever you need to before hearing a loud banging on the door. “Oh my godddd”, you hear Paige groan as she gets up. Opening the door, she says, “Y’all needa fucking chillll, bro,” before letting the rest of the team in. 

Everyone finds a place to settle down before handing out the snacks and drinks. When you get your stuff handed to you, you give the candy to KK. She immediately shoots up from where she was lying against your side. You grin at her as she looks at you with wide eyes before flinging herself back down against you in a hug. 

“This is why you’re my favorite cousin!” she fake cries, making the team chuckle at her dramatics. You smile down at her as you pat her head before looking up when you hear someone say, “So… what’re we gonna do?”. Everyone looks at each other, shrugging a little. “Games and a movie?” Azzi suggests softly. 

Not being able to say no to the people’s princess, everyone agrees before splitting up into groups to play different games. Ice and Aaliyah immediately get up to go play Fortnite on Paige’s Xbox while some of the other girls run off to go play Roblox on Paige and Azzi’s laptops. 

You stay seated as Azzi walks over to the cupboard to grab a deck of Uno for you, KK, Paige, Nika, and herself. Before the brunette even gets the chance to take out the cards, the blonde turns to the Croatian girl to talk shit. “You ready to lose again, Mool?” she teases, completely butchering Nika’s last name. “I hope you play better than you talk shit, Boogers,” the Croatian quips back. You feel KK sit up properly as she grins, having regained her energy, “Less talking, more playing, losers. You guys are going downnn.”

15 minutes later you think you might pass out. 

Have you ever laughed this much before? Turns out Nika is notoriously bad at Uno, somehow always forgetting to yell the word when she has one card left. Apparently Paige is strangely good at pulling +2 cards while Azzi somehow always manages to have all of her cards be the same color. You were the only normal player, seeing as KK kept trying to (and somehow succeeding to?) cheat by looking at everyone’s cards and by putting down multiple cards when no one was looking. After a while, you decide to stop playing, seeing as Nika looks like she’s about to kill Paige if she gets another +2 card. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon laughing as you play games and tell stories. When it hits dinner time, you order a few pizzas. You all decide to play rock-paper-scissors to see who has to go get them. You’re glad to see the Croatian girl is better at that than Uno, seeing as you weren’t sure it would end well if she lost again. 

Once Ashlynn and Caroline leave, you all find a spot around the tv to watch some movies. You’re still seated on the couch next to KK and Azzi, with Nika and Paige sitting beside them.

“Alright, I think it’s my turn to choose a movie,” Paige says in a matter-of-fact way. “What? No way it’s already your turn again!” Ice protests. “Uhm? Yeah, it is? Aubrey picked last time, so it’s my turn again,” she frowns offendedly. “I swear to God if you make us watch that movie again,” Aaliyah grumbles from her spot on the floor. “Hey! Love & Basketball is a really good movie!” Paige raises her voice defensively, “Right, Azzi?”. 

“Yeah, sure, ask the one person who loves the movie as much as you do,” Nika grins. The blue-eyed girl looks around the room with a frown before settling her eyes on you. Her face softens. “What do you think of the movie, Y/N?”. Her eyes are wide and innocent looking, you think you can even see a sparkle of hope swimming around in them.

You raise your eyebrows slightly as everyone turns towards you expectantly. You clear your throat a little. “I, uhh, haven’t seen it yet,” you shrug slightly. Paige’s mouth drops open. “IT’S DECIDED, WE’RE WATCHING IT!” she yells, making the girls around her groan. You grin at the girl, glad to see she’s gotten more comfortable around you, showing her more playful side instead of the nervous side you’d been seeing (though she looked cute either way). “Okay, okay, calm down, P,” Azzi chuckles at her excitement. “We’re gonna watch multiple movies anyway, so why don’t we let Y/N pick the first movie and then watch yours after?”. You see the team nod their heads eagerly at the idea of not having to watch Paige’s movie just yet.

You look over at Paige, who playfully scratches her chin in thought. “Okay, fine… But only because I’m not in the mood for it yet,” she says. “Right… not in the mood for your favorite movie… or maybe you’re head over heels for Y/N, who will tell?” Azzi thinks with a small smile on her face. 

“So, Y/N/N, what’s it gonna be?” Nika asks with her signature teasing smirk. Once you tell them your favorite movie, you start chatting about school and basketball, waiting for the food to arrive. You see Paige get up out of the corner of your eye as she mumbles something about getting everything ready. Azzi nods, getting up as well to help the blonde with the plates and cups. Your eyes follow their retreating figures until they disappear into the kitchen area. You hoped you’d be able to talk to the blue-eyed girl alone before you had to leave again, wanting to see if you were right thinking she liked you back.

When Paige and Azzi get to the kitchen, they don’t speak at first, silently moving in sync as if they were two parts of a whole. Seeing as the blonde isn’t going to say anything, Azzi opens her mouth. “So… Are you gonna make a move?” 

Paige whips her head towards the brunette so fast you’d think she got whiplash. “What? What do you mean? Make a move on who? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she rambles as her cheeks flush red. Azzi grins at her friend’s nervousness before placing her hand softly on the girl’s arm. “Relax, P, it’s just us here.”. 

“I’m chill, I just don’t like Y/N like that,” she replies, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge so she has something to do with her hands. “If you don’t like her, then how did you know who I was talking about?” Azzi looks at her with a gentleness that makes Paige freeze.

“Oh my god… I like Y/N…” the blonde thinks as her eyes go wide. Seeing her reaction, her best friend pulls her into a hug. “Ask her out,” she whispers into the panicking girl’s ear. “No! No, I can’t! I mean, she probably doesn’t even like me back… And even if she did, she’s KK’s cousin… that’d be weird, right?” the wide-eyed girl rambles. The brunette doesn’t get the chance to reply as loud knocking is heard on the front door. Paige pulls away with a certain urgency as she speeds out of the kitchen to let the girls in. Azzi shakes her head with a sigh, “Let’s hope Y/N has more balls,” she mumbles to herself.

Walking to the living room with the paper plates and cups, Azzi sees Paige already sitting back in her spot, leaving an empty spot next to you for herself. “P, swap with me,” she says, standing in front of the blonde. Paige’s eyes widen as she asks, “Why?” “Cus I said so,” the brunette rolls her eyes, “I need to talk to Caroline.” Paige gulps as she scooches closer to you.

You send her a soft smile, being able to feel nerves radiate off of her in waves. It was cute seeing how much a nervous mess she was near you. You’d seen enough edits of her on your TikTok to know she was usually extremely confident. So seeing her like this? Completely flushed, avoiding eye contact, and even sometimes stuttering over her words, she looked adorable.

As you all start watching the movie, you feel KK lean against you as she finally starts mellowing out. You knew it was coming. You’d been around the younger girl enough to know she was very high energy throughout the whole day, but the second you two sat down, in the comfort of your safe space, she’d become quiet, finally being at ease. 

You all eat your food, watching your favorite movie, and you can’t help but wish you could stay like this forever. Once the end credits play, the girls around you praise your movie choice before playfully complaining about the fact that it was now turn for Paige’s movie. You all joke around a little more before you decide to finally watch the movie, not wanting to go to bed too late. As the first lines get spoken, the blonde loudly shushes everyone with a wide grin, leaning forward a little to fully enjoy the movie. 

While you’re sure Love & Basketball is a great movie, you don’t pay attention for a second. How could you? When Paige was sitting so close to you, subconsciously having leaned in a little. Her warm thigh pressed against yours as she mouths all the words. It makes your heart flutter.

Throughout the movie, some girls get up, mumbling about going to bed before disappearing with a wave and a sleepy smile. When the movie comes to an end, only a handful of people are left. You look around, making sure not to wake KK from where she has fallen asleep against you. “Did everyone fall asleep?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, it looks like it,” Paige grins.

The blonde gets up, grabbing the cups and plates around her. You get up as well, making sure KK is still comfortable, before helping the blue-eyed girl bring the dishes away. You work in silence until you get to the kitchen. “You were right, you know?” you say with a grin. “Hm,” Paige hums, looking at you before breaking eye contact nervously. 

“You were right, it was a good movie,” you say, stepping a bit closer to her. “Yeah?” Paige asks with a grin, “Did you also love the part where they dyed their hair in the janky gas station?” “Yeah, that was a really good part,” you say, sliding even closer to her. Your heart flutters as you hear her laugh, slapping a hand in front of her mouth to not wake up the girls. “You didn’t watch the movie at all, did you?” she says, her eyes twinkling.

You send her a smirk, standing in front of her as she’s leaning against the counter. “You caught me,” you say, not even feeling embarrassed about it. She laughs, heat rising in her cheeks at your proximity, before asking, “What did you even do for the past 2 hours?” You shrug, leaning a little closer, “I guess I was just enjoying the view.” Paige flushes a bright red. 

She clears her throat and looks everywhere but at you. “Ahem, the uhhh, the girls like you a lot,” she stammers, picking at her nails. “Oh yeah?” you grin, “That’s nice… I like them too…” “Mhm… You know, when KK told us about you, we didn’t expect you to be like this at all. I mean, she called you her twin all the time, so we envisioned an exact copy of her. She always called you the less cool version of herself. We didn’t expect you to be so badass. I mean, like, your tattoos! They’re cool! Yeah, cool….,” the blonde rambles, her sentence trailing off as she cringes at how awkward she is.

Your eyes crinkle as your smile grows. “Paige…” you say softly, making her look up at you. “Relax,” you mumble, taking another step closer as you grab her hips. You give them a light squeeze before saying, “Listen, I like you. I’ve always admired you from afar, but now that I’ve spent a day with you, I’ve realized that I want to be more than just a friend… So, I would really like to take you on a date if you’d let me?”

You look down at her, slightly nervous about what she’ll reply. When you see her tense up, you soften your grip, getting ready to take a step away. You worry you misread the situation, but before you can step back, Paige relaxes as a bright smile makes its way onto her face. “Yeah, yeah, that’d be nice,” she grins. 

You smile widely. Paige’s eyes dart all over your face, properly taking you in. Her eyes linger on your lips for a second before they return to yours. You lean a little closer, testing the waters and giving her the chance to pull away. When she doesn’t, you lean in all the way, pressing a soft kiss against her lips as she closes her eyes. When you pull back, her body follows yours, not quite ready to end the kiss just yet. 

Opening her eyes, she looks at you with a grin, biting her lip in excitement. This all felt so new and exhilarating. Completely different from her past relationships but a good different. She felt like she could explode from the giddy feeling in her stomach. 

Leaning in to kiss you again, a loud gasp can be heard. You both pull away quickly as you turn around to see KK standing there with wide eyes, her mouth dropped open. You look at her with a worried look in your eyes. While you did really like Paige, you’d never date her if KK wasn’t okay with it. 

For a moment no one says anything. You open your mouth to apologize, to explain, to say something, anything! You don’t get the chance to however as the younger girl speaks first. “So… does that mean you’re finally transferring to UConn?” she says, her shocked expression turning into a smug smirk. You feel the tension leave your body and can’t help letting out a deep belly laugh. You pull her into a tight hug, looking back at a still frozen Paige. You grin at her, sending her a wink as she finally relaxes. This is gonna be really fun.

[creating--memories]

╭─────────────.★..─╮

Doubling Back to You: A Pazzi Series

╰─..★.─────────────╯

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Wc: 2.5k

Themes: au, troubled ex-WNBA!p, basketball coach!a

Authors note: hi loves. This is my first attempt at an au fic and I actually had a lot of fun writing it. I think it made me excited to write again. If y’all like it plz lmk and I love feedback so feel free to send. thanks for reading 💞 also should I make a tag list?

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

5:30 am. Azzi was used to early mornings, but for some reason today, the sound of her alarm felt like a sharp knife splitting through her eardrums. She sighed as she fumbled around with her phone alarm frantically smacking the screen hoping to hit snooze. She groaned as she pushed her brushed linen comforter off of her and sat up in bed. Stewie, who had been sleeping peacefully beside her stirred lightly in the spot he nested in her bed.

“Why did I choose this profession, Stewie?” She pondered as she patted the small dog's head.

Her work at the university wasn’t exactly riveting, but it was stable. Something grounding in her life that often felt meaningless. Which is why she took up coaching basketball at Central High. The kids weren’t the nation’s top recruits, but damn they sure had heart. Azzi began coaching a few years ago, she had heard about the job from a family friend who worked at the school. Her resume was chock full of basketball accolades from her high school and college career, 20 years of her life neatly wrapped up into a one-page laminated piece of paper. She had told the recruiter about her desire to inspire local youth in their basketball dreams and to give back to her community, which was true, but was also a cover-up for her desperate grasp on the one constant in her life that had been slowly slipping away from her.

The job was supposed to be temporary, just a way to make money and occupy her time post-grad. She thought maybe she would move to New York, or LA, get into sports journalism or fashion, she always had an interest in that sort of stuff. But as the years passed by, she fell into a routine and those dreams faded away into the background of the mundanity of her life. She would work mornings in the admissions office at UMD and then spend her afternoon coaching girls’ high school basketball. It wasn’t the job of her dreams, but it had purpose, and it brought consistency, something Azzi had always tethered herself to.

The brunette sauntered over to her en suite bathroom, wincing slightly as she flipped on the recess lighting. She brushed her teeth and washed her face slowly, always waking up earlier than she had to so she could take her time with her morning routine.

She threw on a cropped long sleeve and an old pair of UMD sweatpants from her college days, tossing a matching zip-up hoodie in her bag, a more school appropriate outfit for later.

She quickly brewed herself a cup of coffee in her to-go tumbler, leaving room to add ice from the machine at work. Her freezer had broken about a month ago, and she had meant to call her landlord to get it fixed, but she had fallen into a habit of making her iced coffee at work and stealing ice from the teacher’s lounge on her way out, and her broken freezer got pushed to the end of incomplete tasks on her to-do list. for time’s sake, she dismissed her broken freezer qualms, and gave a quick kiss to Stewie's head, her coffee in hand, and whisked out of the door of her apartment.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Paige sat idly in the Laguardia airport lounge, her Amy’s drive-thru veggie burger and fries barely touched on the table in front of her. She clicked the side of her phone on, checking the time.

11:31 AM

Her flight had started boarding 15 minutes ago, but she was still sitting in the lounge, thinking that maybe if she was the last person on the plane, she could put some distance between herself and the reality of what was waiting for her in Maryland.

She sighed softly as she shoved the remnants of her food back into the paper bag that laid on the table and checked her boarding pass once more before heading to her gate.

SEAT ASSIGNMENT: 27B

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me she muttered. With how quickly everything had happened since she’d gotten the call from CPS, notifying her that her cousin’s daughter had been taken from her custody and that Paige was the closest relative of age, she had booked a last-minute flight to DC, the only thing left basic economy, landing her in a middle seat. Taking care of a teenager wasn’t exactly on Paige’s list of list of New Year’s resolutions, for Christ's sake the last time she took care of a living thing was her ex’s cat, that she almost fed dog food, something (she didn’t realize was indeed lethal to cats) which she didn’t hear the end of for the rest of their relationship. Despite this, Paige couldn’t leave family, not when she was more than capable of providing (financially, at least) for her cousin’s daughter. And after all, it would probably only be a couple of weeks.

She settled into her middle seat, politely slipping between the older couple sharing her aisle. She opened up her phone to send a quick text to Charisse, the social worker handling her cousin's case: About to take off, be there by 3. And switched her phone into airplane mode.

Paige took a deep breath and started praying. Something to calm her usual flight anxiety mixed with the anticipation of her return to the DMV. Since she left the WNBA, she had made it a point to live the most predictable life she could. The uncertainty and expectations of her life in the league had hurt her in more ways than she could count, and when she left, she vowed she would never lose control of herself again. But for the first time in a long time, sitting on this plane waiting to take off, she felt the familiar feeling of fear brewing in her stomach. For the first time in a long time Paige Buecker’s didn’t know what was next.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“Alright girls, one more set of sprints and you can get the hell out of here”

Azzi’s voice echoed through the gym, cutting through the sound of sneakers squeaking on the laminated wood, and the hip hop music blasting from her XL JBL speaker.

A corral of groans erupted from her team at her commands.

“Any more of that and I’ll add another set”

Begrudgingly her players began their laps across the gym.

Azzi wouldn’t call herself a tough love kind of coach, but she sure as hell pushed her kids. Just because they didn’t necessarily have as much funding as some of the prep schools in the area, and they weren’t being constantly scouted for AAU teams, she wanted her girls to reach their full potential, or at least as much as she could provide them.

After a while, Azzi decided she’d tortured them enough and she blew into the tin whistle between her lips and motioned for the girls to stop their running.

“Alright good work girls, now go upstairs and change, you all stink”

The players let out cheers of relief, and made their way to the locker room, each one pausing to high five Azzi as they ran up the stairs. As the last of the girls trickled out of the gym she made her way across the room to start picking up the practice jerseys her players had discarded into a pile. *Ugh you guys really do stink*, she laughed to herself as she began throwing them into the mesh bag she held. She had placed the last practice Jersey in the bag when she was startled by a low voice calling her name over the music still playing from her speaker.

“Excuse me, um, Coach. Fudd?”

Azzi turned around, coming face to face with a tall blonde woman, her hair slicked back into a low bun, a pair of black trousers and simple cross necklace shimmering and isolated against her crisp white tee.

Wait, she thought to herself.

“Holy shit, you’re Paige Bueckers” She blurted out.

Before her sudden and mysterious departure, Paige wasn’t just a great player, she was sensational. Paige was widely known both in the basketball and non-basketball world. And as someone involved in the sport, of course Azzi knew who she was. She had only played against her once, back in their AAU days, when they were still kids, but even then, she was amazed by Paige’s abilities. Azzi had followed her career all throughout UConn and then to the league, the wings, then the Valkyries, and last but not least, the liberty. She even still had a few of her #5 jerseys stored away somewhere in her closet. But just like everyone else, when Paige had mysteriously quit the WNBA and basically disappeared off of the face of the earth 3 years ago, she hadn’t heard about her whereabouts since. So now, seeing the blonde superstar standing in the dingy high school gym in the middle of her hometown, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit starstruck.

“Shit- I mean sorry, I don’t usually cuss this much. I mean, yes coach Fudd that’s me, but um you can call me Azzi, just coach Fudd to my players.” Azzi stumbled over her words, trying to do some damage control to the start of this awkward encounter.

Paige chuckled lightly. Usually, any mention of her previous career felt like a dagger in the chest, a painful reminder of one of the lowest points she had been at, as well as the disappointment of leaving the longest constant in her life behind. But something about the curly haired woman in front of her, in a UMD sweatsuit, holding a sweaty bag of yellow practice jerseys, she found endearing. It didn’t hurt that the woman standing in front of her was absolutely gorgeous, her brown eyes looking up and her and dimples peeking out of the curve of her smile.

“Nice to meet you Azzi, I’m Paige, but I guess you already knew that” she flashed a cheeky smile and extended her hand.

Azzi reached for the blonde’s extended hand and shook it nervously, hoping her hands weren’t too sweaty. She chuckled at the blonde, still ever as charming at 32 as she was at 16. She cursed herself for not putting in a little more effort into her appearance this morning.

“Um, what can I do for you Paige?”

“I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m Elena’s temporary guardian, she’s been having a tough time with all this, and basketball is one of the places she can forget about all of it you know”

Azzi had been notified about Elena’s change in guardianship, but she didn’t know the details of her situation, but she did notice that Elena had been pushing herself extra hard the past week, staying hours after practice, getting shots up, running plays by herself. Azzi never pried, just left the door of her office open while she practiced, a silent *I’m here if you need to talk*. She couldn’t fully relate to Elena’s situation, but she understood the feeling of pouring yourself into basketball when it felt like the rest of your life was falling apart.

“Yeah, she seems extra focused on basketball lately, I remember being that age, pushing yourself into basketball when life got too hard”

Paige’s face hardened for a moment, a reminder of a previous time in her life where basketball was her escape instead of her kryptonite. Even after three years of scrubbing anything basketball related from the soundtrack of her life, the reminder of her old passion opened a floodgate of memories, but imagining Azzi, as a teenager just like she was at one time, not giving a care about anything in the world but basketball, unexpectedly filled her with a sense of nostalgia.

“Yeah, I remember those days” she said quietly.

A slight awkwardness fell over the both of them, Azzi, just like the rest of the world was aware of Paige’s sudden departure from the WNBA, but didn’t know many of the details, but from their interaction it seemed like it was painful.

Paige began to turn towards the doors to leave, but before she could turn Azzi reached for her.

“Hey, any chance you would want to come watch practice tomorrow?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she wasn’t quite sure she said them. Maybe it was because she wanted her to get the opportunity be involved in Elena’s extra curricular, or maybe she didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to hang out with her childhood idol (and crush for that matter), or maybe it was because as much as she could tell that Paige’s journey had been painful, she wouldn’t forgive herself if she didn’t at least try to show her there can still be joy in basketball.

“You know, for Elena” Azzi quickly added.

In any other circumstance, Paige would have immediately shut this down. Being involved with basketball was too painful, she swore she would never step foot on a court again, but since she already broke that promise, for Elena’s sake, and maybe her own, she finds herself saying yes.

“Yeah, I think I could make that work.”

“You know, for Elena” she adds teasingly.

Azzi’s smile immediately spread across her face. Her dimples even more prominent than they had been before. This will be good for Elena, she thought to herself. She didn’t mind the opportunity to see more of Paige either. It had been a while since anyone has gotten her all hot and bothered.

“Cool, well, see you tomorrow then.” Azzi said matter of factly.

“See you tomorrow, Azzi” responded the cheeky blonde, and turned on her heel out the door and to the parking lot.

[drowsyapple]

Where the Sun Meets the Sky

Pairing: Caleb x Non!mc reader

Tags: University AU, tall/POC!reader, fratboy!Caleb, friends to lovers

Synopsis: After a crushing loss, your ride-or-die Caleb shows up with snacks, stats help, and way too much info about your life. Now he's making you go to his frat formal. Is he just being your overprotective childhood friend... or is there something he's not telling you?

(Yes. The answer is yes.)

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: This chapter is pretty tame, but there are hints of protective/possessive behavior, mild stalking vibes, and academic stress

Author's Note: I'm not a writer, I just like to write :) the reader is a taller tomboy girly who loves basketball and hates stats class... I plan on making this a multi-chapter fic (might already have the next chapter mostly done) so let me know if y'all want more :D enjoy!

Tag List: @rcvcgers @seasal-t

Comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list :)

The gymnasium was a cacophony of sound—squeaking sneakers, the rhythmic bounce of basketballs, and the occasional shout from Coach Jenna. The chill of the fall air seeped through the cracks in the old building, making you shiver as you wiped sweat from your brow. Your dark brown curls, most of it slicked back into your signature ponytail, clung to your forehead in damp tendrils, a few rebellious strands escaping to frame your freckled face. Your hazel eyes, sharp with focus, scanned the court as you sprinted down the hardwood, your 5’10” frame moving with the kind of fluid precision that came from years of training.

The Linkon University basketball jersey, number 25, hung loosely over your athletic build, the fabric darkened with sweat. Your skin, kissed with melanin, glistened under the harsh gym lights, and the faint dusting of freckles across your nose and cheeks gave you a youthful, determined look. The sound of your sneakers squeaking against the floor echoed as you pivoted, your ponytail swinging behind you, as you gave it your all on the court.

“Hustle, ladies! This isn’t a tea party!” Coach Jenna barked, her voice cutting through the noise. She stood on the sidelines, her clipboard clutched tightly in one hand, her sharp eyes missing nothing. 

Your teammate, Simone, shot you a grin as you ran side by side, her dark braids swinging with each stride. The squeak of sneakers against the polished hardwood floor echoed through the gym, blending with the sharp whistle of Coach Jenna. “Coach is on one today,” Simone panted. 

“When is she not?” you shot back, your voice strained but laced with humor. You dodged around a cone, your legs burning as you pushed through the drill. The chill of the air made your breath visible in short, quick puffs. 

The scrimmage against Skyhaven University had ended with a narrow loss, the opposing team’s star center sinking a buzzer-beater three-pointer that left your team groaning in frustration. As punishment for the loss, your coach had you doing line drills for each point difference and shot missed. Your muscles screamed with every sprint, every pivot, every jump, but you pushed through, determined to not fall behind your team. 

After what felt like an eternity, you slumped onto the bench, your chest heaving as you chugged from your water bottle. The cool liquid was a relief, but it did little to ease the ache settling into your muscles, a familiar reminder of the grind. Simone settled down next to you, her face flushed and her two french braids damp with sweat. She quickly gathered her things, her movements efficient despite her fatigue. You wondered how she still had the energy to move so fast.

“I’m heading back to the bus first,” she said, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder before glancing over. “Do you want me to save you a seat?” 

Simone was your best friend on the basketball team, and as fellow freshmen, you’d formed a bond that went beyond the court. She was the first person to welcome you to the team, and her relentless optimism and dry sense of humor had gotten you through more than one grueling practice. You appreciated the camaraderie between you two and the unspoken understanding that you were both doing all you could to climb the team’s ladder. 

“Yeah, that’d be great,” you said between breaths and sips of water. “See you in a bit.” 

Simone nodded. “Don’t take too long. You know how Coach gets if we’re late.” 

You watched as she walked away, her braids swaying with each step. The gym was quieter now, the rest of the team already heading to the bus or packing up their gear. You took a moment to catch your breath, your eyes scanning the empty court. The polished floor reflected the overhead lights, and the faint scent of sweat and sports drinks lingered in the air. 

As you sat there, the weight of the loss settled over you. It wasn’t just the score, it was the missed opportunities, the shots you could’ve made, the passes you could’ve intercepted. You clenched your fists, the frustration bubbling up, but you pushed it down. There’d be time to analyze the game later, to figure out what went wrong and how to fix it. For now, you just needed to get through the ride back to campus and the inevitable scolding from Coach. 

As the team continued to file out of the gym in groups of two or three, you lingered behind, taking time to stuff your gear into your duffel bag. Your muscles screamed with every motion you made accompanied by the sound of your growling stomach. The sound of the gym doors on the opposite end of the building creaking open drew your attention, and you glanced up to see Caleb leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a slight smirk playing on his lips. 

Caleb was impossible to miss. At 6’2”, he towered over most people, his broad shoulders and athletic build a testament to his dual life as a star basketball player and an aspiring pilot, currently majoring in aerospace engineering. His dark brown hair was tousled, falling slightly into his striking purple eyes, which gleamed with amusement under the fluorescent lights. He was dressed casually in a black hoodie and jeans, his orange and black flying jacket slung over one arm. The jacket was worn but well-loved, a fond memory from his high school days, and it suited him perfectly. 

“Tough loss, pips,” he said, his voice warm but teasing. 

You rolled your eyes, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you stood up, ignoring your protesting knees. “Don’t remind me. What are you doing here, anyway? I remember telling you I was riding back with the team.” 

Caleb pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside, his boots clicking against the floor as he walked to meet you halfway. “I already talked to Coach. Told her I’d give you a ride.” He said shooting a quick wave to your Coach, and she, distracted by the notes on her clipboard, returned the gesture. Since when did they get so close?

You groaned at that, dragging a hand down your sweaty face. “Caleb, I don’t need a babysitter. I’m perfectly capable of taking the bus.” 

“And miss the chance to spend quality time with your favorite person? Not a chance,” he said, his smirk widening. He reached out and ruffled your damp hair, earning a swat from you. 

You muttered under your breath while slipping on your favorite hoodie, and followed him out to the parking lot where his beat-up pickup truck waited. The truck was a relic from high school. You and Caleb had found it abandoned in the neighborhood junkyard, its red paint faded and speckled with rust, but Caleb said it had character and fixed it up in no time. The man has always had a way with tools, yet you struggled using something as simple as a toaster. You climbed into the passenger seat, tossing your bag into the back, and noticed a small paper bag on the dashboard and a large Diet Coke waiting for you in one of the cupholders. The cup was filled to the brim with the crunchy, nugget ice you loved. 

“After-game snack,” Caleb said as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Figured you’d be starvin’.” 

You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t hide the smile creeping on your face. “You’re such a dork.” He always knew exactly what you needed, even without asking.

“Your dork,” he corrected while starting the engine, which earned a snort from you. The truck rumbled to life, and you two pulled out of the parking lot. 

As your childhood best friend drove, you leaned back in your seat, sipping your drink and nibbling on the peanut butter protein bar that was in the paper bag. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with him. You talked about the scrimmage, taking this chance to vent about the missed shots and the opposing team’s star player. 

“You’ll get ‘em next time,” Caleb said, his tone encouraging. “You’re a shoo-in for a starter spot next year. Hell, you might even be captain one day, just like me.” 

You snorted. “Don’t let it go to your head, Mr. Valedictorian.” 

Caleb’s expression softened. “Please let that go,” he chuckled. “High school was ages ago, and I’m already a Junior. Seriously, though. You’re killin’ it out there. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay?” 

As you opened your mouth to respond, your phone buzzed, interrupting the moment. You pull it out of your pocket to see a text from your roommate, 

Tara: Have you seen the back of my earring??? I’ve looked everywhere!

You sighed, typing out a quick reply of nope before tossing your phone onto the dashboard. “Roommate again,” you muttered. 

Caleb glanced at you briefly, his brow furrowing slightly. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, just… Tara’s a mess. I swear, I spend more time cleaning up after her than I do studying.” 

Caleb’s jaw tightened a bit, but he didn’t press. Instead, he changed the subject. “You wanna come over for dinner? I made your favorite.” 

You hesitated, the idea tempting. “I really should study. My stats class is kicking my ass, and if I don’t pull my grade up, I’m gonna lose my scholarship.” 

Caleb drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking. “How about this? You come over, we eat, and I’ll help you with your stats homework. I TA’d for Professor Lucius last year, so I know his style.” 

You opened your mouth to refuse, but Caleb flashed you his signature puppy-dog look. Wide eyes, slightly pouted lips, the whole nine yards. You groaned, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Fine… but only because I’m starving.” 

Caleb’s triumphant grin was almost too much to bear. Suddenly, a thought flickered in the back of your mind. 

Did you ever tell Caleb you had Professor Lucius this semester? 

The cold sweat of the cup bit into your palm as you searched your memory. No, you definitely hadn't told him. Between basketball drills and Tara's latest crisis, you'd barely registered the mid-semester professor switch yourself until the first confusing lecture. Yet Caleb had said Lucius' name like it was common knowledge, the same way he always seemed to know your schedule before you did, your coffee order before you spoke it, and when you'd need him before you knew you needed him yourself.

The realization prickled at you—you’d never told Caleb about Professor Lucius. Struggles with statistics, yes, but not who taught it. Not when six other instructors were teaching it this semester. Yet he’d known. Like he always knew.

Still, it wasn’t like Caleb to get details wrong. He was meticulous, almost annoyingly so. Always remembering the smallest things about your schedule, your preferences, and your life.  

You shook your head, brushing the thought aside. 

It’s nothing. Probably just said it in passing and forgot. 

You removed the lid of your cup and took a long sip of your drink, the satisfying crunch of the nugget ice between your teeth pulling you back to the present. The familiar sensation was comforting.

You glanced outside the truck window, the campus of Linkon University beginning to roll by in a blur of autumn colors. The trees lining the pathways were ablaze with gold and crimson, their leaves fluttering to the ground in the crisp fall breeze contrasting the setting sun. Students bundled in scarves and jackets hurried to and from classes, their laughter and chatter faintly carrying through the glass. The clock tower loomed in the distance, its hands inching toward evening, and the faint scent of woodsmoke from a nearby bonfire drifted through the air. 

You leaned your head against the cool window, letting the rhythm of the road and the hum of the truck’s engine lull you into a sense of calm. Caleb’s playlist, a mix of classic rock and indie tracks he’d curated over the years, played softly in the background. He was humming along under his breath, his fingers tapping the steering wheel in time with the beat. 

You tore your eyes away from the passing scenery and glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. His profile was sharp against the fading light, his jawline strong and his amethyst eyes focused on the road. There was a quiet intensity about him, a steadiness that had always been there, even when you were kids. He was the kind of person who made you feel safe, even when you didn’t want to admit you needed it. 

But there was something else there too, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. A tension in the way he held himself, a flicker of something in his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking. You’d noticed it more and more lately ever since you started college, though you couldn’t explain why. 

“You okay over there?” Caleb’s voice broke through your thoughts, his tone light but with an undercurrent of concern. 

You blinked, pulling yourself back to the present. “Yeah, just…thinking.” 

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Dangerous habit.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Says the guy who overthinks everything.” 

Caleb laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Guilty as charged.” 

The conversation lulled again, but the silence between you was comfortable, simple. You turned your attention back to the window, watching as the campus gave way to the quieter streets of the neighboring residential neighborhood. The houses here were old but charming, their porches decorated with pumpkins and fairy lights. A group of kids played in a leaf pile on the sidewalk, their laughter ringing out like chiming bells. 

You took another sip of your drink, the ice clinking softly against the sides of the cup. The thought from earlier nagged at you again, but you pushed it aside. 

It’s Caleb. He probably just heard it from someone else. 

You always have been the forgetful type, forgetting even your birthday one year.

Still, as the truck pulled up to his apartment building, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. But for now, you decided to let it go. There were more pressing things to worry about, like surviving stats class and figuring out how to deal with Tara’s latest disaster. 

🍎🍎🍎

Caleb’s studio apartment was small but cozy, a reflection of his no-frills personality. The brick accent wall gave the space a rustic charm, its rough texture softened by the warm glow of a single floor lamp. The room was dominated by a worn leather couch, its cushions dented from years of use from its previous owner, and a slightly cluttered coffee table stacked with textbooks, a half-empty coffee mug, and a pair of aviator sunglasses. A small kitchenette sat in the corner, its countertops surprisingly tidy except for a single pan soaking in the sink. 

Photos of you and Caleb lined the walls, a timeline of your shared history. There was the one from your 12th birthday, where he’d surprised you with a basketball cake and a goofy party hat. Another from last year’s New Year’s Eve, the two of you bundled up in scarves, your cheeks flushed from the cold and the sparklers in your hands leaving trails of light in the dark. New Year’s Eve had always been yours—the two of you pressed shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowd or curled on a couch, watching the clock tick toward midnight with the same quiet certainty as the years turning over. No matter what chaos the year had brought, that moment always belonged to you both.

And then the candid shots, Caleb ruffling your hair after a game in middle school, you laughing as he tried to teach you how to cook (and failed miserably). Then there was a photo of you two during your high school graduation just half a year ago; you were clutching your diploma, and Caleb’s arm hung loosely over your shoulders, smiling bright. Each photo was a snapshot of a moment frozen in time, a reminder of how intertwined your lives had always been. And behind each photo was your adoptive grandmother, Josephine, always eager to capture the moments of her kids with her clunky camera.

You walked in and turned to the used couch. A deep red throw blanket was draped over its back, the vibrant hue a stark contrast to the muted grays and browns of the room. You flop down after dropping your bags to the side of the couch, stretching out horizontally and scrolling through your phone, your feet hanging over the edge. The leather creaked under your weight, and the faint scent of Caleb’s cologne, something woodsy and warm, lingered in the air. 

Caleb disappeared into the kitchen, humming along to the classic rock playlist he’d put on. The opening chords of a familiar song filled the room, Over the Hills and Far Away by Led Zeppelin, and you couldn’t help but smile. It was one of his favorites, a track he’d played on repeat during road trips back in high school. 

“Seriously, Caleb,” you called out, raising your voice over the music, “how do you still listen to this stuff? It’s so old.” 

“It’s timeless,” he shot back, his voice carrying over the sizzle of the stove and the hum of the microwave. “You’ll appreciate it when you’re older.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “If you say so.” 

You set your phone down on the coffee table and headed to the bathroom, leaving it behind. When you returned, Caleb was setting two plates of braised chicken wings on the table along with two cups of microwavable instant rice. The rich, savory aroma made your stomach growl, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of gratitude. He’d remembered your favorite dish, just like he always did. 

As you ate, the conversation flowed effortlessly, shifting from sports to classes to Caleb’s latest escapades with his frat brothers. He leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he launched into the story. “So, last weekend, we decided to build a homemade drone,” he began, his eyes lighting up with the kind of energy that always came with his wilder ideas. “You know, just a little weekend project. What could go wrong, right?”

You raised an eyebrow, already sensing where this was going. “Famous last words, Caleb. What happened?” You asked as you took another bite of your favorite dish, a slight note of ginger hitting the back of your throat.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, we got it all put together, or at least, we thought we did. But when we fired it up, the thing shot straight into the air, spun in a circle, and then nosedived right into the grill!” He exclaimed waving his hands around. “Next thing we know, the propane tank’s hissin’, and the backyard’s basically a fire hazard.”

You burst out laughing, nearly choking on your food. “You’re kidding me! Did you at least get it on video?”

“Oh, we got it on video,” he said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his camera roll. He handed it to you, and you watched as the drone spiraled out of control, followed by a chorus of panicked shouts and the unmistakable sound of something catching fire. You were laughing so hard your sides hurt, and Caleb joined in, his laugh filling the room.

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t get kicked out of the house,” you said, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Oh, we almost did,” he admitted, still grinning. “But, you know, we cleaned it up. Mostly. And no one got hurt, so… win?”

“Barely,” you teased, shaking your head. “You’re lucky you’re still alive.”

The lighthearted banter continued, the tension from the scrimmage slowly melting away. It was easy, comfortable, the way it always was with Caleb. He had a way of making everything feel less serious, less overwhelming. For a little while, you forgot about the game, about the pressure, about everything except the sound of his laughter and the warmth of the moment.

But once you cleared your plate and pulled out your stats homework, the mood shifted as reality sank in once again. You groaned, staring at the equations like they were written in another language. The numbers and symbols blurred together, and you felt that familiar knot of frustration tightening in your chest.

Caleb noticed immediately, his grin fading as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone softer now.

“It’s this stupid stats homework,” you muttered, shoving the paper away from you. “I don’t get it. None of it makes sense. I’ve been staring at it for hours these past couple of days, and it’s like my brain just shuts down. Why do I need to know this? I’m a basketball player, not a mathematician.” 

Caleb chuckled, leaning over to look at your notes. His arm brushed against yours, and you caught a whiff of his cologne again, distracting you slightly. He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “You’re overthinkin’ it,” he said simply with a small smile.

“Easy for you to say,” you retorted. “You’re, like, a wannabe math genius or something.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head. “I’m no genius. I just don’t freak out about it like you do.” He reached over, pulling the paper toward him and scanning the problems. “Okay, look. This one’s not that bad. You’re just makin’ it harder than it needs to be.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, well, that’s my specialty.”

He smirked, glancing up at you. “True. But lucky for you, you’ve got me.” He grabbed the pen you were holding and started scribbling notes in the margins, explaining each step in a way that actually made sense. You watched him, the frustration slowly easing as his calm, steady voice broke through the mental block you’d been hitting.

“See?” he said after a few minutes, sliding the paper and pen back to you. “Not so bad, right?”

You looked down at the page, the numbers suddenly less intimidating. “Okay, maybe you’re a little bit of a genius,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you said, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Thanks, though. Seriously.”

“Anytime,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “You know I’ve got your back.”

And you did know. That was the thing about Caleb. No matter how chaotic or ridiculous things got, he always had a way of making you feel like everything would be okay. Even when the numbers didn’t add up and the world felt like it was spinning too fast, he was there, steady and sure, reminding you that you weren’t alone.

He walked you through a few more of the problems, his voice calm and patient as he explained each step. But your eyes drifted to your phone, which buzzed incessantly with texts from Tara. The screen continuously lit up from where it was placed on the edge table, and you couldn’t resist glancing at it. Huh, did you set it all the way over there before you headed to the bathroom?

“What’s so important?” Caleb asked, interrupting your thought, his tone light but with an edge of curiosity. 

“Nothing,” you said, shoving your phone into your pocket. “Just Tara being Tara.” 

Caleb raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Instead, he reached over and plucked the phone from your pocket and proceeded to stand as tall as he could, holding it above his head. 

“Hey!” you protested, standing up and reaching for it. But Caleb was a few inches taller, and you couldn’t quite reach. 

“You said you’d focus,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Caleb, give it back!” you demanded, jumping in vain. 

He laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in his expression. “You know, it’s hard to compete with your phone for your attention.” 

You stopped jumping, your frustration melting into a tinge of guilt. The look in his eyes—part amusement, part something deeper—caught you off guard. “I’m sorry,” you groaned with a slight eye roll. “How could I ever make it up to you.” 

Caleb’s smirk returned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh?” 

You hesitated, then sighed, having an idea of where this conversation was headed. “What do you want?” 

Caleb’s eyes lit up, and you knew you’d walked right into his trap. “Come to the frat formal with me. Tomorrow night.” 

You huffed, but there was no way out. This was the grave you dug and now it was time to lie in it. He had been bugging you about his frat’s autumn formal for weeks. “Fine. But you owe me.” 

Caleb’s triumphant grin was worth it, even as you mentally prepared yourself for the chaos of a frat party, grimacing at the thought of dressing in clothes other than your trusty knee-length basketball shorts, hoodies, and sneakers. 

🍎🍎🍎

The ride back to your dorm was short, the silence between you and Caleb comfortable. The truck’s engine hummed softly, and the faint glow of streetlights flickered across Caleb’s face as he drove. His hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping in time once again with the song playing on the radio. You glanced at him, noting the way his jaw tightened slightly whenever your on-campus dorm came into view. He hated this place, your co-ed dorm, and he didn’t bother hiding it. 

When you arrived, Caleb parked the truck and walked you to the door, his hands stuffed in his pockets. The cool night air nipped at your cheeks, and you pulled the hood of your hoodie tighter around your head. The dorm building loomed ahead, its windows glowing with warm light, and the faint sound of laughter and music spilled out from the common room. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, turning to face him. 

Caleb’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled, that familiar, easy grin that always made your stomach flutter, which you promptly ignored. “Anytime, pipsqueak,” he replied as he placed his hand on your covered head, his voice soft. 

You turned to the entrance while reaching for your key card, swiping it swiftly to unlock the door with a soft click. The sound was barely audible over the hum of the dorm’s hallway, but it felt loud in the quiet space between you and Caleb. You opened the door but held it open with your foot. Pausing, you turned to him with an eyebrow raised. “Y’know, can you quit it with that silly nickname already?” you protested, though there was no real bite to your words. “I’m hardly small, and I could easily destroy you in a 1v1 any day.”

Caleb’s grin widened, that familiar, infuriating smirk that made your stomach do a little flip, which you ignored once again. For a split second, you thought he might say something…something real, something that would explain the way he’d been looking at you all night, like you were the only person in the world. But instead, he just chuckled, reaching out to ruffle your hair under your hoodie like you were still the scrawny kid he’d met all those years ago. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his voice light but with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place. 

You rolled your eyes, brushing his hand away, but the warmth of his touch lingered. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, turning to head inside. 

As the door began to close behind you, you caught a glimpse of him still standing there, his hands back in his pockets and his smile fading. His purple eyes lingered on you, intense and unreadable, and for a moment, it felt like the air between you was charged with something unspoken. But before you could say anything, before you could even process what you were feeling, the windowless door clicked shut, leaving you alone in the dimly lit hallway, the sound of the common room drowning out as it became overpowered by your thoughts. 

You leaned against the door for a moment, your heart racing for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. Caleb was always like this. Teasing, protective, and just a little bit maddening. But tonight, it felt different. Like there was something he wasn’t saying, something he was holding back. 

Shaking your head, you pushed off the door and headed down the hall towards your shared dorm, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the space. Whatever it was, you’d figure it out later. For now, you had a roommate to deal with and a mountain of homework waiting for you. 

🍎🍎🍎

The dorm was a disaster when you walked in. Clothes were strewn across the living room, empty takeout containers littered the coffee table, and a half-finished puzzle sat abandoned on the floor. Tara was kneeling in the middle of the chaos, her dark hair a wild mess as she dug through a pile of laundry. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, dropping your bag by the door. 

Tara looked up, her eyes wide with desperation. “What took you so long?! I still can’t find the back of my earring! Please help!” 

You sighed but knelt down to help, shoving aside a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that definitely wasn’t either of yours. Tara had always been like this, chaotic, scatterbrained, but endearing. You’d met her during orientation, when she’d accidentally spilled her iced coffee all over your shoes and then insisted on buying you a new pair. You’d been inseparable ever since, even if her messiness drove you up the wall. 

As you searched, Tara began peppering you with questions about your evening. “So, I figure you were with Caleb, huh?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

“Don’t start,” you warned, but Tara just laughed and returned to digging through the pile of clothes in front of her. You continued, “I have to go to that stupid frat formal with him now just as I started to think I was in the clear. As if I don’t have anything better to do than put on a dress and be surrounded by drunks. Coach doesn’t even let us drink! What the hell am I supposed to do all night sober?” 

“Oh come on. His frat holds, like, the most exclusive party of the year. You’re so lucky!” 

You groaned, shoving a pile of socks aside. “You can take my place if you want.” 

Tara shook her head, her loose curls bouncing. “Nope. I’ve got plans with that guy from my bio class.” You said a small ah under your breath nodding. You never understood Tara’s extensive roster and never bothered asking for specifics. She was with a new guy what seemed like every other week.

You finally spotted the earring back under the coffee table and handed it to Tara, who squealed in delight. 

“You’re the best!” she said, pulling you into a hug before retreating to her room. 

You did the same, tossing your phone onto the bed, and almost like magic, it lit up with a notification from Caleb: 

Sleep well, pips. Don’t let Tara or your floor mates keep you up :) 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. Caleb had always been like this, a protective older brother figure in your life. He hated your co-ed dorm, and he made no secret of it. 

“It’s not safe,” he’d said when you first moved in, his arms crossed and his jaw set. “You should’ve taken the single dorm I found for you.” 

But you’d refused, partly because you didn’t want to feel like you owed him anything and partly because you liked the idea of chaos that came with living on the same floor with a bunch of noisy dudes. It reminded you that you were finally on your own, making your own decisions, even if those decisions drove Caleb a little crazy. 

You threw off your shoes and plopped into bed, still wearing your outside clothes. As you laid there, staring at the ceiling and debating a shower, your thoughts drifted back to him. His teasing smile, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did. He was infuriating, endearing, and entirely too much. But he was your childhood best friend, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Still, there was a part of you that wondered, what would happen if you let him in completely? If you stopped pretending you didn’t notice the way his gaze lingered on you, or the way his voice softened when he said your name? 

You shook your head, pushing the thought aside. For now, this was enough. 

[medinabasketball]

Top Tips and Strategies for Effective Basketball Coaching for Youth

Picture this: the squeak of sneakers on the hardwood, the sound of the buzzer signaling game time, and a team of young, eager athletes ready to hit the court. As a youth basketball coach, you’re not just teaching the game; you’re molding future champions, both on and off the court.

But let’s face it, coaching youth basketball isn’t all slam dunks and three-pointers. It’s a dynamic blend of strategy, mentorship, and pure passion for the game. That’s where we come in. In this guide, we’re serving up a fast break of tips and strategies designed to turbocharge your coaching skills and inspire your players to reach new heights.

IMPORTANCE OF COACHING IN DEVELOPING YOUNG PLAYERS

Coaching youth basketball isn’t just about teaching kids how to shoot hoops or execute the perfect pick-and-roll. It’s about shaping the next generation of athletes and instilling in them the values and skills they’ll carry with them far beyond the court.

Skill Development: At its core, coaching youth basketball is about helping young players develop their skills. From mastering the fundamentals like dribbling and shooting to honing more advanced techniques, coaches play a pivotal role in guiding players along their basketball journey.

Character Building: Beyond the X’s and O’s of the game, coaching youth basketball provides an opportunity to teach important life lessons. From teamwork and sportsmanship to resilience and leadership, the lessons learned on the court can have a profound impact on a player’s character and development.

Building Confidence: For many young athletes, basketball serves as a platform for building confidence and self-esteem. A supportive coach who believes in their players’ potential can empower them to push past their limits and achieve greatness, both on and off the court.

CHALLENGES SPECIFIC TO COACHING YOUTH BASKETBALL TEAMS

Coaching youth basketball comes with its own set of unique challenges, ranging from managing different skill levels to balancing the competitive spirit with a focus on player development.

Skill Disparities: Youth basketball teams often consist of players with varying skill levels, from beginners who are just learning the basics to more advanced athletes with years of experience. Balancing the needs of players at different stages of development can be a challenge for coaches.

Short Attention Spans: Let’s face it, kids can have short attention spans. Keeping young players engaged and focused during practices and games requires creativity, energy, and a willingness to adapt coaching methods to suit the needs of the team.

Parental Involvement: Parental involvement can be both a blessing and a challenge for youth basketball coaches. While supportive parents can be a valuable asset to the team, navigating parental expectations and managing conflicts can sometimes add an extra layer of complexity to the coaching role.

EMPHASIZING FUNDAMENTALS: DRIBBLING, SHOOTING, PASSING, DEFENSE

When it comes to coaching youth basketball, there’s no substitute for a solid foundation in the fundamentals of the game. Whether players are brand new to basketball or aspiring to take their skills to the next level, mastering the basics is essential for success on the court.

Dribbling: Dribbling is the bread and butter of basketball. Teaching young players proper dribbling technique, including hand placement, footwork, and ball control, lays the groundwork for all other aspects of their game. Emphasizing dribbling drills and exercises helps players build confidence and become more comfortable handling the ball in game situations.

Shooting: Shooting is perhaps the most fundamental skill in basketball. Coaches should focus on teaching players proper shooting mechanics, including stance, grip, and follow-through, while also emphasizing the importance of accuracy and consistency. By breaking down the shooting motion into its component parts and providing plenty of opportunities for practice, coaches can help players develop their shooting skills and become more effective scorers on the court.

Passing: Basketball is a team sport, and passing is the key to effective teamwork. Teaching young players how to make crisp, accurate passes, as well as how to move without the ball to create passing lanes, is essential for developing a cohesive offense. Incorporating passing drills and activities into practice sessions helps players improve their passing skills and learn to anticipate their teammates’ movements.

Defense: Defense wins championships, and teaching young players the fundamentals of defensive positioning, footwork, and communication is essential for building a strong defensive mindset. Emphasizing the importance of effort and intensity on the defensive end of the court, as well as teaching players how to anticipate their opponents’ moves and react accordingly, helps lay the foundation for a solid team defense.

CREATING STRUCTURED PRACTICE PLANS FOCUSED ON SKILL DEVELOPMENT

Effective coaching starts with effective planning. Creating structured practice plans that are focused on skill development ensures that players are making the most of their time on the court and are consistently improving their basketball skills.

Identify Areas for Improvement: Before each practice, take the time to assess your team’s strengths and weaknesses and identify areas for improvement. Whether it’s shooting, passing, defense, or another aspect of the game, tailor your practice plans to address the specific needs of your team.

Break It Down: Break down each skill into its component parts and design drills and exercises that target those specific areas. For example, if you’re working on shooting, you might start with form shooting close to the basket before gradually moving out to mid-range and three-point shots.

Progressive Drills: Use progressive drills and exercises that gradually increase in difficulty to challenge your players and help them continue to develop their skills. Start with simple drills and gradually increase the complexity as players become more proficient.

Repetition is Key: Repetition is key to skill development. Encourage your players to embrace the grind and put in the work to master the fundamentals. By incorporating plenty of repetition into your practice plans, you’ll help players develop muscle memory and become more consistent in their execution of skills.

TEACHING PLAYERS TO UNDERSTAND BASKETBALL CONCEPTS AND STRATEGIES

Basketball is not just about running up and down the court; it’s a strategic game that requires players to think critically and make split-second decisions. As youth basketball coaches, one of our primary responsibilities is to teach players the ins and outs of basketball concepts and strategies.

Offensive Concepts: Start by teaching players the basic offensive concepts, such as spacing, movement without the ball, and reading the defense. Help them understand the importance of setting screens, making cuts, and finding open teammates to create scoring opportunities.

Defensive Strategies: Similarly, introduce players to defensive strategies, such as man-to-man defense, zone defense, and defensive rotations. Teach them how to communicate effectively on defense, anticipate their opponents’ moves, and work together as a cohesive unit to stop the opposing team.

Basketball IQ: Encourage players to develop their basketball IQ by studying the game, watching basketball at all levels, and analyzing game situations. Help them understand the nuances of the game, such as when to push the tempo, when to slow down the pace, and how to exploit mismatches on the court.

EMPHASIZING DECISION-MAKING AND SITUATIONAL AWARENESS

In basketball, split-second decisions can make all the difference between winning and losing. That’s why it’s crucial to emphasize decision-making and situational awareness in your coaching approach.

Game Scenarios: Incorporate game-like scenarios into your practices to give players opportunities to make decisions in real-time. For example, set up scrimmage situations with specific scenarios, such as trailing by two points with 30 seconds left or defending a fast break.

Teachable Moments: Use every practice and game as a teaching opportunity to reinforce decision-making skills. Provide feedback and guidance to players on their decision-making process, praising good decisions and offering constructive criticism when needed.

Film Study: Consider incorporating film study into your coaching routine to help players develop their situational awareness. Review game footage together as a team, pointing out key moments and discussing the decisions made by players in various situations.

PROVIDING OPPORTUNITIES FOR GAME-LIKE SIMULATIONS AND SCENARIOS

Practice makes perfect, and there’s no better way to prepare players for game situations than by providing them with opportunities for game-like simulations and scenarios.

Scrimmages: Organize scrimmages during practice sessions to simulate game conditions and give players the chance to put their skills to the test in a competitive environment. Use scrimmages as an opportunity to work on specific aspects of the game, such as executing set plays or implementing defensive strategies.

Drills with Purpose: Structure your drills with a specific purpose in mind, whether it’s improving decision-making, enhancing situational awareness, or implementing specific game strategies. Incorporate game-like scenarios into your drills to help players develop the skills they need to succeed in actual game situations.

Game Analysis: After games, take the time to analyze performance as a team and identify areas for improvement. Discuss specific game situations and decisions made by players, highlighting both successes and areas for growth. Use this feedback to inform future practice plans and focus areas.

By teaching players to understand basketball concepts and strategies, emphasizing decision-making and situational awareness, and providing opportunities for game-like simulations and scenarios, coaches can help develop their players’ game intelligence and prepare them for success on the court. Ultimately, developing game intelligence is about more than just X’s and O’s; it’s about instilling in players the ability to think critically, make smart decisions, and adapt to ever-changing game situations.

At its core, coaching youth basketball is about more than just teaching the game; it’s about shaping character, instilling values, and empowering young athletes to reach their full potential, both on and off the court. So, as you step onto the court with your team, remember that you’re not just coaching basketball; you’re shaping the next generation of athletes and leaders. Embrace the challenges, celebrate the victories, and never underestimate the power of a positive role model and mentor.

Together, let’s continue to inspire, empower, and elevate the game of basketball for generations to come.

[boredbakedbeans]

class divide & struggle in haikyuu

haikyuu twitter has brought up the theme of class struggle in hq and it really got me thinking just how subtle and effective furudate is in portraying class divide throughout the story.

hinata is introduced riding a bike, seeing volleyball through a store TV (not his own like Hoshiumi, Ushijima, Kageyama), and years later he's still riding a bike up and down a mountain every day for an hour to get to school and practice. how the gyms in the public schools like nekoma and karasuno have stages because they're multipurpose, as opposed to the specific volleyball facilities that shiratorizawa and other private schools have. the bond that nekoma and karasuno have as being the public schools in their prefectures, being known as "scavengers", taking what they can get and fighting tooth and nail for it. THE DUMPSTER BATTLE.

Shiratorizawa Academy vs. Karasuno High. almost every other school (aoba johsai, shiratorizawa, kamomedai) having non-volleyball team-specific tracksuits and merch, while karasuno wears the generic "ics" athletic wear. star players like ushijima and hirugami having family that played pro-volleyball and got them started from a young age in professional spaces.

daichi's nightmare about the basketball team overtaking their gym and not letting them practice. kageyama noticing right away that the floors in the all-japan youth camp weren't wooden. takeda working overtime to try to get gyms reserved, practice matches organized, buses rented out. ukai still working at his grocery store his entire first year coaching karasuno (suggesting that karasuno couldn't afford to pay him enough).

karasuno having to adjust to the lights and the height of the ceiling at nationals, when all the other teams were used to it. karasuno renting out that little old inn for nationals, right next to the giant, 25-floor hotel that other teams were staying in. inarizaki intimidating their opponents with their huge student section, affording to literally transfer an entire student BAND from hyogo to tokyo.

it's the reason that there's something specifically annoying about ushijima when we first meet him, something off-putting as we see hinata and kageyama watching shiratorizawa practicing for the first time in their fancy gym at their huge school. something infuriating about hearing ushijima talk down to hinata and basically dismiss karasuno as a threat entirely. when ushijima says aoba johsai is "infertile soil", hinata thinks, if they are infertile soil, then I Am Hinata Shoyo from the Concrete. and our concrete school, despite all odds, despite lack of resources and funding and reputation, will still beat you. i don't have what you have and yet i will still make it to the top!!!!!!!

[gothamgf]

bleachers — s.es + l.cy

tags sports!riize basketball!eunseok fencer!eunseok fencer!reader anton!swimmer, college au, fluff, angst, slight nsfw, hurt/comfort

wc 14k

summary when twenty-five twenty-one meets challengers.

author's note each 🤺 is a time jump!

(apple music playlist)

(spotify playlist)

You afforded the front-row.

Yet, sat right under the nose bleeds. 

A coat of velvety darkness covered the Grand Palais, raising the public, and everyone involved’s pulses to its climax. 

The hall tensed in its fullness, gradually silencing itself. 

Each and everyone’s mouths watering for victory in the name of their country, loved ones, or themselves. 

Light beams shot out of nowhere, putting on a grand show for the beginning of the awaited event. 

The Men Fencing Finals at the Paris 2024 Olympics. 

🤺

BEEP

13-0

Coach Lee manifested every single muscle of hers to stop herself from letting out a loud sigh of disappointment. She knew she’d let it out in a few minutes anyway. The only thing comforting her sorrow in witnessing her own student fail so miserably, was you, her little « protégée ». 

It was your opponent’s fifth time of trying to quit the game ever since you’ve started playing. 

It was, in consequence, one of those days where you knew the real training would only come after hours, once you would beg your coach to play a real match against you. 

Only, one of you would always ask for a rematch, and a match point to determine who turned out to be the winner of whatever day it was. 

So, in the meantime, you’d become the distracted teenager you rarely allowed yourself to be. 

« Please coach, I’ll never be as fast as her, just let me train on the mannequin… » whined Aeri’s to the unimpressed olympian champion, fully knowing her request will be met with a stern negative response. Useless negotiations started, followed with a series of beginner-level advices. Well, not beginner-level, but certainly nothing a competitor for the national team should be listening to at the moment. 

You took their bickering as an opportunity to cool off, dropping your suffocating mask on the floor. You then opened your water bottle with quick dexterity, without ever letting your sword out of your grasp. You were seen without it so rarely, word spread that you slept and showered with it. The truth wasn’t that far. 

The voices of everyone in the gym were muffled as the second bell of the afternoon ringed, and chatter bloomed out of the school’s walls. Normally, you’d be on your way to close the windows, so that nothing could disturb the hours left of training. But your skin sprinkled in sweat, and the ongoing match required no real focus on either part whatsoever. 

So you stayed there, and kept on drinking, sun-kissed. 

When the breeze would stop blowing on your face, you’d immediately pray for more, and for 2023 to come faster. It would be your very first Asia Games, if you’d manage to qualify for it, and before that, if you’d manage to qualify for the Korean women’s fencing team.  

You knew you would. 

The mere thought of it made your stomach tie itself in impossibly tight knots. 

In the clouds, floated the white of your suit, tattooed of your name in the colors of your country. The wind whispered chants celebrating it, as well as your scores going high, point by point, pushing you towards victory. And in the blinding reflections of the high school building’s windows, millions of medals shined. Your mind already displayed them in your room, in which you left an empty wall since you were 7. 

Your bones shook with impatience. Two dozens of months, and you’d be there.

Palpable greatness. 

Life have never tasted any better than on a random Thursday afternoon of a long high school day. And your heart never felt any lighter than when you were full of youth, hope, and thirsty for victory. 

Arms crossed and wrapped on the windowsill, your body slouched on it, you quickly checked if the interrupting conversation was near to be over. You caught the coach fiercely teaching Aeri how to make convincing feints, as if she was teaching her a choreography. Aeri offered you a desperate smile, as you mouthed her encouraging words to lighten up her mood. She couldn’t do anything but sigh. You giggled and let your eyes wander back into the outside world. Your back straightened itself the second you saw the building you were secretly eyeing this whole time open up its doors. 

The basketball building.

At this hour, they were going to run a few rounds on the track field before going back to training in their gymnasium. 

It’s not that you memorized it on purpose, you just knew. 

At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

The school’s team was so prestigious some of the students already had fan clubs within the school, and in other’s as well. It mainly consisted of little stickers of their favorite member’s number on the juniors’ lockers. Or, blocking entire days before their games to craft posters, decorations, and even merchandising. They swore it was to motivate them, but the « Marry Me Sungchan » cardboards told otherwise.

You thought it was all very silly, yet quite thrilling to have some of the « Riizing Boys » in your promotion. What a lie it would be to say none of them have tickled their way into your heart, but it would also take actual torture for you to admit it in front of your teammates. 

Your nose fully peeked out of the window when you watched the first tall guys step out. 

And there he was, Lee Anton, with his silver jersey and long tousled hair.

Your stomach tied itself in knots again as he looked back to the team, flashing them a million dollar smile, slowly jogging towards the track field, and warming-up his twisted body. Droplets already formed on his forehead as the unforgiving sun coated the giggling players.

Their happiness affected you. And perhaps, watching hot boys made life a little more worth living, or so your 18-year-old self thought. You also thought you were looking (oogling) at the team in its entirety, when a chestnut haired boy rushed to take place next to them on the starting line, their coach closing the door after him. He just wore a white t-shirt, and was definitely unfamiliar to you. 

He was new. 

And new is exciting. 

You kept watching him, comparing his physique with the other members, trying to figure out the sound of his voice and most importantly, what his face looked like. All of their broad backs and shoulders were turned to you, lowered to the ground, as they prepared themselves for the jog. You thought to yourself that they’d run fast enough for you to catch a glimpse of the new guy when they’d get closer to your window. 

But the whistle of their coach synchronized with yours, ripping you out of your reverie.

« Come on, let’s play again. » Coach Lee calmly ordered. « And remember Aeri, her muscles. Look at the way her muscles move, and anticipate your strike alright? »

Aeri nodded unconvincingly, knowing that it will be over in a few points anyway. She put on her helmet in a swift motion, seeming slightly more boosted than minutes ago. You, on the contrary, put a little more time to get ready. 

Your body might’ve been En Garde, but your mind was still on the track field, among the « Riizing Boys » and the faceless newbie. 

« Prêts? » Coach Lee exclaimed, her arms open on each side of her body.

The growing sound of the basketball teams’s step tangled with the sound of your own heartbeat. 

« Which club trains here? » A voice from outside the window asked.

You instinctively turned your head. 

« Allez! »

The new guy was looking at you.

And you were looking at him. 

BEEP 

13-1

🤺

The seat to your left was empty, whereas the one to your right was occupied by a pre-teen girl wearing both France and South Korea’s colors. You figured you’d find out who her hearts belongs to once the match would begin. 

« Now welcoming, France’s athlete : Yannick Borel ! » An automatic voice announced through the speakers.

The girl screamed as loudly as she possibly could.

You didn’t need to wait after all. 

The fencer’s walk was determined, slow and strong. The volume of the cheers made you slightly worry about the glass ceiling. You applauded still, feeling quite sorry in advance for the next athlete, knowing he won’t get half as much cheers as his opponent. 

You rapidly came to the realization that you might’ve under-estimated his popularity. The second his name was announced, you nearly jumped in surprise, hearing the girl next to you let out a inhumane screech. 

A sting that could not be stopped by any means attacked your heart as his name echoed through the Palace Hall. Huge screen glowed, his face and name plastered all over them, cheered in a country at the end of the world. Envy and pride fought within your overwhelmed soul, tied to him in ways that justified your presence here, as much as it made it questionable. 

« Now welcoming, South Korea’s athlete : Song Eunseok ! »

🤺

« Good session girls! » Coach Lee started cheering on to conclude the day. « Aeri, Manon and Y/N, it’s your turn to clean the room, I want to see my reflection on the floor tomorrow morning hm? Good night everyone, drink water and sleep for at the very least 9 hours, understood? »

You all agreed and greeted the coach back, as she left the gymnasium to her usual mantra. The doors were still clapping the wind when you rushed towards one of your juniors, begging her to trade your place this one time. 

This one time, and last week’s time. 

Promising her another autograph from Seunghan wasn’t enough, so the bid went up and your offer was now his signature on her sword. At this very moment, you finally understood what authors meant by « Her eyes glowed ». You took her struggle to say thank you as a « yes », and bowed to her appreciatively before rushing to the lockers. As you peeled your fencing suit out of your body and changed to your uniform, the note you received this morning fell on the floor. 

You got it during your French lessons with Mr. Vidal, half asleep and half drooling on the back of your hand. Your table mate gently tapped on your forehead, jolting you awake. Your beauty sleep, interrupted only for you to receive a crumpled piece of notebook that has been passed around from the very back of the amphitheater, where you felt a gaze burning through your nape. 

« Meet me at the bleachers. 

-seok »

And there you were, walking towards the blue bleachers as the Korean sun painted them orange. 

Again.

You saw his silhouette shaking two tiny strawberry yakults, the straws already planted on both of them. Your pearly eyes glowed from miles away. 

Excitement from meeting up with his new friend energized him, as if the previous 8 hours of intensive training vanished right there and then.

« No fancy fencing outfit today? » He playfully asked, carefully watching you climb up the stairs, two by two. 

« And hopefully you have your own jersey now? » You cheekily replied as you remember teasing him for always training in what seemed to be the same white t-shirt.

« I still can’t decide on a number… » He replied, lying through his teeth, both of you knowing the truth. He was still on a trial period.

« Well, what’s your birthday? » You plopped next to him, downing the strawberry milk as if you haven’t drank in years. 

« 19 and 03 are taken… » He dramatically sighed, taking a sip out of his. 

« Well… Speaking of 03… » Your interest spiking as soon as you heard Anton’s jersey number. Your back straightening itself on its own. 

Eunseok contained a smile, throwing his sport bag onto his lap. You stopped breathing as soon as you took a glimpse at the silver fabric shining inside. He paused, and lifted the jersey to your face. 

« AAAH! » You loudly gasped. 

« SHH! » He hushed you, trying so hard not to laugh at you. « They’re still inside the gymnasium, oh my God… you’re insufferable… » 

Fan-girling sounds escaped out of your bouncing body. The peak of excitement and joy plastered all over your face, as rarely as you expressed it. 

The truth was that, selling your youth to your sport built walls around you, which made building meaningful, yet carefree friendships close to impossible. Your teammates seemed to be your friend group, from the outside. But the giddying, feet kicking and giggling teenager you knew you were, only ever existed within the four walls of your bedroom. You’ve journaled about how lonely it was to have no girl sitting cross-legged at the end of your bed, ranting, from sunset to sunrise. 

Such is the cost of being so excellent in your discipline. 

No one seeks friendship in a playground foe. 

Good thing Eunseok had no wishes to challenge you. Or at least, without a sports career, or a scholarship at stake. 

Turned out 18 days of makeshift apprenticeship were enough for you to build the type of connexion you’ve longed for, since forever. It broke through the walls of youthful insecurity and shyness the day he caught you cleaning up the fencing studio on your own. 

You were on the third part of your sold out concert, the imaginary crowd going wild as you crossed the stage doing tricks with your broom turned microphone, turned guitar. Closed windows muffled the sound of your favorite band blasting through the stereo, as it has countless times before. There were no blinds, however, that could hide the silhouette of your body following severals choreographies for half an hour. 

Especially, from the late jogger on the tracking field. 

You remember feeling as if you’ve jumped to the roof when he knocked on the glass, teeth showing through his wide smile, framed by glistening cheekbones. The highest level of shame took over your whole being, immediately assuming he was about to make you the joke of his entire time here. Or worse, he would act as if you’ve never existed. 

In reality, he just mouthed for you to open up. You did, reluctantly so, fully aware of how cruel boys could be.

« There’s a duo part coming after, right? » He asked, nodding his head to the rythm, waiting for the said part. He sang it, as passionately as he could, not a single note of his, on key. He tilted his head waiting for you to hop on the duet. 

Not once did he offer you mockery coated side-eyes. 

No. He was all friendship, dimples, and love for One Direction.

Finding comfort in each other so rapidly, bloomed doubts on what truly lied within your heart. 

It was no difficult thing to admit that you have never wondered if there wasn’t a bit of attraction between the two of you. Though, the mere reminder of Lee Anton’s existence, made every single man that you have ever known disappear from the surface of Earth. 

So yes, when Eunseok held his promise of getting you one of his jersey’s in exchange of clandestine fencing lessons, your heart pounded its way out of your ribs. 

« Thank you, Thank you, Thank you !! » You beamed at him, diving into a hug. 

« You know » He started in a slightly strained voice, his hands ghosting over your back « Don’t freak out but, » He paused. « I told him it was for you. »

The summer breeze suddenly chilled your nape, down to the bottom of your back. Waves of embarrassment as strong as this could break down cruising ships in seconds. 

Your bodies automatically distanced themselves, as your expression died. 

« What. » You barely muttered. 

« Yeah… he’s a bit over his jerseys going to high schoolers and juniors he doesn’t know and stuff. I had to tell him but… » 

You cut him right there. « You couldn’t lie? You couldn’t say it was for your little sister or like, anyone else but me? »

You stared at a piece of void in horror. It creeped. The slow realization that all of the chances, as small as they were, with your first college crush definitely turned into dust creeped on you. You were just a fan now, to him. You asked yourself why you would ever trust a man to be your wingman when you let your face rest on your palms. 

Eunseok’s smirk haven’t left his face, though. « Can you let me finish? »

You didn’t respond. 

He sighed at how dramatic you were acting, in his opinion. « When I told him it was for you… » 

He paused. « He actually looked… quite happy about it. »

🤺

2-2

No weapons were allowed in the arena, but if anyone had a knife, they could easily cut through the tension that vibrated in the air. Waves from chatter to silence formed in between points, helping out the fencers to filter out their thoughts. Song Eunseok’s were now racing with heavy, borderline abusive motivations to create a gap of points between him and Yannick Borel. 

There were few things he hated more than equalizing point with his opponent. The idea of utter loss, a silver medal, caused by a single point could make him go feral. 

But now was no time to go feral. 

Now was the time to place his feet apart from each other. To flex his knees, bend his sword and agitate it out of habit. To then giggle his arms, one last time, and wait for the referee’s voice to echo through his mic. 

He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second and felt the tingle of his opponent’s last strike on him. 

The fourth right rib. He would try to hit here again. And he knew just how to keep him from doing that.

« En Garde. »

You were sitting at the edge of your seat, his hate for equal scores coming from you. You, who couldn’t help but hope for your late night lessons from 4 years ago to still be tattooed in his mind. 

« Prêts ? »

All the sweat you poured until the school’s track fields’ lights went out, and your only way back home was from his passenger seat. Those trainings he paid with inviting you to his court, only so you could flirt with his curly-haired teammate. 

BEEP 

Your youth together.

You hoped he didn’t forget your youth together. 

2-3

It was like watching the two of you dance again. 

🤺

« There’s no way I can jump that high » You stated in defeat, breaking your neck from looking at the hoop. 

« Are you kidding? I saw you correct the cheerleaders’ choreo the other day… »

You shushed him, partly amused and partly annoyed from shooting only three scores since you’ve started training with him. It has been 2 weeks. 

Nothing was at stake there, no career, no scholarship, or not even a trophy. But the frustration of doing so many so mistakes when you were more than used to being excellent, couldn’t be helped. Especially since Eunseok has proven himself to be quite a fast learner from your not so amateur fencing sessions. 

« Let’s do it together one more time, hm? » He offered, clearly sensing your growing frustration. 

You nodded, eyes closed, gathering every ounce of focus that was left in your body. 

Why where you there when Anton was nowhere to be seen anyway?

When you felt ready, you looked to your side, ready to mimic Eunseok’s movements as you have done countless times before. 

But you’ve turned your head to nothing. 

A breath ghosted over your neck. 

Fingertips on your left wrist, and a palm on your hip. 

« Bend your knees. » He softly spoke. 

The phrase ran twice, or thrice in your head before you actually registered and executed it. Your body temperature shifted, hoping it went unnoticed. And before you could form any other thought, his whole body stretched yours out towards the hoop. You automatically jumped, but he stayed on the ground, his hands now both pushing on your under arms. He boosted your jump, practically lifting you like you weighed nothing. You nearly screamed out of fright from the sudden gain of height. 

« Shoot ! » He shouted, shattering the blossoming tension. 

You did, and you scored, and you laughed, and he laughed. And coming down from the height, only made your excitement and adrenaline jump through the roof. Once you calmed down to your senses, you teasingly hit him with the ball instead of celebrating.

« Amazing shot, champ, how did you that? » He sarcastically chuckled, resting his hands on his knees. 

You couldn’t help but think he was probably wiping off your arm-pit sweat from his palms.

« It’s called talent. » You breathlessly replied, plopping down on the floor with your legs splayed out. 

« That’s a real basketball player answer there, you might get qualified for the team before me."

« I’m no real basketball player, though. » You stated, cutting out whatever game you were both playing at. « I literally have to be your puppet to score. »

« Were you having fun? » He asked, « Being my puppet? »

« Well, even though I didn’t ask to be… » You looked up at him, the spotlights making his traits manlier than you were used to see. « Yeah. » 

He collected the ball from the floor, dribbling it for a few seconds before effortlessly scoring, looking right into your eyes. « Then you’re a real basketball player. » 

« So fucking cheesy… » You sighed, smiling to the ground.

Half an hour later, Eunseok was mopping the squeaky court as he waited for your « just got home » text. He would usually enjoy some music while cleaning, just like you did. But that day was for racing thoughts, and the squelch of his soapy mop on the wooden floor was just what he needed as a background sound. The way he touched you earlier haven’t quite left his mind. Before that, he had never tried to initiate anything physical with you. But you always did. Pressing on his abs and back muscles to help him have good fencer posture. Or wrapping your fingers around his to teach him how to have a solid, yet, swift hold on her backup sword. Like any good coach would.

Eunseok kept rummaging his thoughts about how he held you today, if you perhaps thought it was too much, or if you thought nothing of it. He saw the goosebumps rise from under your skin, though. And he felt it heat up. 

« Someone’s in love… », Sohee said from the swinging doors. 

Eunseok’s heart jolted, his body remained unmoved. He eyed his smirking teammate from the reflection on the huge window in front of him. « The hell are you even doing here? »

« Not flirting with Y/N L/N, what about you? » He sarcastically replied, crossing his arms. 

Despite the slipperiness of the floor, Eunseok raced towards him, screaming incoherent things to his youngest. Their improvised game of tag, giggling from the sights of each other’s bouncing hair, made the previous teasing dust up in the records of history. 

« Just admit it, you have a thing for Anton’s girl. » Sohee exclaimed with a loud smile on his freckled face. 

Hearing that incorrect way of describing you made him icky, for a reason he was only admitting to himself, for now. Eunseok ran faster, shouting a childish « Hey! », Sohee finally within his reach, when his phone vibrated against his clothed thigh. He automatically stopped in his tracks, right after jumping over the benches. His friend’s eyes sparkled with thirst for drama, the sight of Eunseok’s lighted up smile ready to be spread in future gossip sessions. 

But Eunseok, as blissful as he could be, kept blushing at your awaited notification. 

It was followed by a messy, half asleep goodnight text. To which he replied : 

⌈ Sweet dreams, Y/N. ⌋

His finger hovered over the send button. Was it Sohee’s defying look over his phone that made him send this all or nothing second text? Or was it because he came to the realization that he didn’t like the fact that « Anton’s girl » could soon be a very correct way of describing you ? 

It was up to your interpretation anyway. Perhaps, it would mean nothing to you. 

So he sent :

⌈ ❤️ ⌋

Like any good friend would. 

🤺

It has only been 6 minutes since the match has started. Six terribly long minutes of observing your college’s best friend compete in the most important match of his life, with only yourself to debate or cheer with.

The time on your phone was rarely left unchecked, as for your watch, it would be the next second, as if time went by faster on the latter. There was a fencing olympic finale entertaining you, and a chanting crowd to follow along to. Nevertheless, pure loneliness bubbled right inside of you, perched with thousands of sports fans.

It was never lonely down there, you reminisced. 

A goal in mind, a weapon in hand, and a person to dance with was all you ever needed to feel fulfilled. To feel happy. 

You’d search for your partner’s sweet spot until they’d succeed to your teasing touches. 

Growing tensions, magnifying attractions, and the electronic sounds of the scores accumulating turning into music. There would be a moment in which both of you would understand each other completely, the map of each your souls clearly traced in the lines of your body. 

Synchronization. 

Harmony. 

The common folk mostly thought of fencing only as competition and infliction of pain. A deadly duel, resulting into a victor and a loser. But beneath the protective gear, and under the pulsing pearly skin of fencers, lied infinite pleasure. 

For both players.

And sometimes, even for the referee.  

Fencing was all about mutual connexion, understanding, and love.

And all of that came with patience, which left your body each an every minute there, sitting with a crowd that didn’t know Song Eunseok like you did. 

Nor the secret stake of the match.

That’s what, partly, justified your loneliness.

You hoped he didn’t feel any of that loneliness, as well. 

Because if he did, if he wasn’t having any fun, he would 100% lose. 

He took off his mask, strong breathes huffing out of his chest, as he waited for the referee’s verdict. He couldn’t help but twist the sweat off his pink glossy lips, lick them and bite them. 

The anticipation that grew within you, and your misplaced curiosity for his freshly licked lips, made you react a little later than you should have when you heard footsteps approaching you. 

There’s a hand on the crook of your neck. 

« So sorry my love, some fans wanted pictures. » Anton breathlessly whispered in your ear, before kissing it.

🤺

City lights shimmered all over the floor you slowly walked on. Your teammate’s complaints were muffled by the sound of your own troubles fogging your brain. There were no words to describe how much you loathed doing bad performances. 

And your coach pretending like it wasn’t the case. 

And the fact that the only thing keeping you away from being better, was your mental state. 

And your mental state, being the way it was because of a guy. 

Anton hadn’t talked to you today. 

You wore his jersey, today.

Embarrassment grew each and every time you felt a stare a second too long on the shining letters on your back. You’ve never wanted to hide under your epidermis more than when you walked by the team’s table at lunch, and received a glance, but no smile from him. 

It could have been just that, until the most irritating chuckles made their way into your ears, coming from their way.

If you could’ve died right there, it would have been a miracle. 

And if your sword could actually kill, Eunseok’s head would’ve been on a spike. 

Well, truth was that your mental state was that way, because of two guys.

It could also only be because of today’s treason, but it wasn’t.

Eunseok hasn’t left your mind a single day since you’ve met. 

It has been three months, now. 

Spring was ending, now. 

Your friendship grew out of the school’s walls with goodnight texts, stretching into nightly, hours long conversations. Your thumbs would get sore from all the texting, so it shifted to calls. And video calls. During the weekends, too. 

Eunseok then swore you needed to practice your shoots on your days off as well. He happened to have a park with a hoop, right at the end of the street in which he lived. So you met up there, every Saturdays, and practiced. 

He’d always drive you back home if those sessions, that eventually turned in gossip sessions, lasted until nighttime. 

Until one day, when his older brother went on a trip with his car.

There were no buses anymore, and your parents have had a little drink. 

Moments later, you left your shoes next to his by the entrance, ate with his parents and baby brother, saw Eunseok under his dining’s room light, and brushed your teeth next to him, laughing at the huge foam around his mouth.

His mother’s smell was all over your skin and hair when you got out of the shower. 

His own smell embraced you when you dived into his previous basketball team’s jersey. 

And being there, all up in his brother’s sheets, with his father snoring in the other room, scared you. It scared you because you felt like you could get used to this. 

Your lids grew heavier, as you silently wished to get used to it.

You opened them back up when your phone lit up by your face. 

« I have popcorn. » Eunseok had texted you. 

You didn’t need more to be tiptoeing to his bedroom.

« I’m out of here by 3 am, understood? » You warned him as you quietly closed the door behind you, knowing that it might cause trouble to be found here in the morning. He solemnly nodded, before breaking into a grin as he watched you get comfy by him, against his headboard.

Hours after demolishing the popcorn bag, you were still there, sharing life stories in the dark, from the funniest to the most unspeakable ones. You told him about how you puked on yourself after your first kiss, and he told you about all the nasty things he had seen in the showers of all the sports teams he had been in. He swore he hadn’t participated, but he gave away way too much details. 

It was way past the bedtime both of you knew you wouldn’t respect anyway, when he decided to put on one of your favorite animated movie on his laptop. Your reciting of the lines became more and more incoherent, and he spent more and more time watching you flutter your eyelashes shut.

You fell asleep to the feeling of Eunseok’s fingers waltzing on your temple, and woke up in his brother’s bedroom. 

« Do you speak French in your sleep because of fencing, or because of Ratatouille ? » He had asked you the next day, watching you wash your face through the bathroom mirror.

All of this shouldn’t have affected you the way it did, you thought. 

You were just happy to get closer to your friend, you thought. 

You were like brothers and sisters now, you thought.  

Replaying this in your head has made you oddly silent, as you kept on walking among your teammates. You were so silent, you started to recognize the now very familiar sound of a basketball rapidly bouncing, then clashing against the metal outdoor hoop.

« Oh, Guys, I forgot something at the gym. » You lied to the group of gasping girls. « You guys can go ahead. See you tomorrow! »

You rapidly pretended to walk back, immediately missing the shelter of Aeri’s umbrella as they cheerfully waved to you. Seeing their giggling backs under the rain made you wish to make more efforts to befriend them. An inexplicable rush of nostalgia washed over you, as raindrops coated your scalp. You were in your feels. And going to investigate towards the small court wasn’t going to help anything, no matter who was dramatically shooting hoops under the rain. 

It could’ve been one of the guys you were desperate to avoid tonight. 

Though, you couldn’t help but hope it was one of them.

You took a turn and quietly walked towards the huge white hoodie, cutting the mystery short.

« Think you’re Troy Bolton or something? » you teasingly asked. You knew better than to be mad at him off the start, even though you truly were. 

Eunseok turned around, missing the point he was about to miss anyway.

The fruit of his restless thoughts materialized before him. 

If you thought you were going mad over your sleepover at his’, it was solely because you knew nothing of how much it ran him, truly crazy. 

He introduced you to his parents, picked you up when you were sleeping, smelt your morning breath, and have spent, since then, hours to think about the next time he could have you that way again. Without acting like the worst, traitor, dipshit friend ever.

You were slowly tearing him into pieces, with no one but Sohee as a witness. 

The abandoned ball wasn’t bouncing off the floor nearly as fast as your pounding hearts. 

« If you consider yourself Gabriella, then it should be Anton’s role. » He stated, leaning down to pick it up. His tone ended up being colder than both of you expected it to be. 

« I’m not really sure he’d like to be my Troy anyway… » You scoffed, crossing your bare forearms. « But you all could be a little less cruel about it. » You then spat at him, slightly ashamed. 

He stopped in his motions, his back facing you. « What are you even talking about? »

You huffed a laugh, the frustration turning into a lump of sorrow in your throat. Have boys always been this oblivious to the fucked up things they do? « You know exactly what I’m talking about. » 

« No, I don’t actually. I don’t know, Y/N. » He turned to face you, jaw clenched. « And you really need to stop playing around, especially now. » He bitterly added. His tone was filled with despise, as if he was grounding some naughty spoiled kid. It vexed you.

« Is it not playing around when you let me hope that he likes me ? And proceed to then laugh at me, with him, behind my back? » You shouted, taking a few steps towards him, wondering where his common sense possibly went.

You didn’t mean for your voice to crack so easily. And you were pissed at his confused, twisted eyebrows under his wet strands of hair. 

« Lunch? Today? » You tried to refresh his memory. 

His expression shifted. A defeated smirk threatened to mark his face, as he slowly made the wet ball bounce from one of his hands to the other. 

« I can assure you, we weren’t laughing at you. » He calmly stated, now taking in your shivering form from under the flickering lamp post. 

You sighed out a big chunk of air, with closed eyes and your head held up high. Was it out of relief, annoyance or, as a way to relax your severely tensed muscles? You couldn’t tell, at all. 

But you knew what you felt. You felt sick of fighting the very person you’d go to when days were as shitty as today. 

So you decided to trust his words, though it felt too early to fully believe in them.

 « Whatever. He didn’t even talk to me today. » You muttered.

If this had happened a few weeks before, Eunseok would have confessed that the team was laughing at Anton’s reddening ears to the sight of you, proudly walking with his name on your back. 

However, whatever reason that was making him pull a dry sweater from his sports bag, was making him keep it all to himself. 

« You can’t afford to catch a cold, champ. » He softly spoke, as he stood up, closed the gap between you, and wrapped it around your shoulders. 

« So can’t you. » You replied, looking up to his face. He covered the top of yours with the hood of his sweater, slid his hands on your shoulders, and left them there. 

It wasn’t his first time taking the time to explore the map of your face. He retraced it all, meanwhile you felt like a first time explorer. The lamp-post lighting softly bounced of his high cheekbones, and made his earring shimmer. You couldn’t make up the sweat sliding down his forehead from the raindrops drenching him, in all places. From his ridiculously big eyes and lashes, to his puckered pouty lips, passing by his straight nose bridge, he was glowing. 

He was beautifully glowing. 

Your focus went back down his mouth. You blinked, a lot. You swore it was moving a second ago. But it wasn’t anymore. 

He had just finished talking and you haven’t heard a thing. 

« Sorry what did you say? » You asked, coughing your way out of awkwardness. 

He swallowed down a now flustered smirk and replied in all seriousness. « Our coach. He’s involved with a bribing case. » 

It took you a second too long to recover from your previous embarrassment, and register the dramatic information you have just gotten. « What? » You finally exclaimed.

« Yeah. » He looked down, your saddened expression pulling him back through the same deception he had faced earlier. «The headmasters were quick to announce that there would be no actually good replacement for the rest of the year though. Some are staying, some are switching sports, and others are switching… schools. » He sighed. He also remembered how hard he had gasped when Shohei, the one guy he was the most excited to train with, announced him that he’d fly out to Japan to have a chance at his dream basketball team. 

He paused, and half heartedly chuckled, « I wasn’t even selected so my choices are… Thin. That’s why I’m here. Stress-releasing. » He freed your shoulders of his tender grasp, burying his freezing hands in his hanging jogger’s pockets. 

You’ve let the rain wash over you for a moment, watching Eunseok’s gaze empty itself. You, quite selfishly, mentally placed yourself in his shoes. You knew you’d have gone bat-shit crazy if you were left with the choices of making a drastic change in your life in order to keep chasing after your dreams, or abandoning them completely. In your golden age. Just because of a man. 

Your heart broke for the promising athlete before you. 

It broke for your best friend. 

« God… » You gasped in horror. « I can’t even… begin to imagine how hard that must be for you.»

« For all of you. » You added, Anton coming to your mind, and his, to his own demise.

He dropped his head and bitterly nodded to your statement. As you watched him stand there thoroughly defeated and fighting tears, you’ve found yourself powerless, and lacking of words strong enough to provide him any satisfying reassurance. So, you instinctively reached for his head and placed it on your shoulder, like he would do when you’d fail anything, from getting Anton’s attention, to exams. 

His arms immediately wrapped around your back and waist for warmth, comfort, anything, like a man starved. He had convinced himself that you were going to turn into sand if he didn’t hold you tightly enough, hence the grip he had on you, that, despite yourself, made your face flush warm against his wet, cold body. The sound of the raindrops hitting his nape made you shiver for him. You attempted at covering it with your hand, but was rather caressing the small parcel of skin. 

You weren’t deaf to the sound of his breathing losing its regularity, though. 

Added up to his chest, beating against yours, his heart was helplessly finding ways of digging its way down your ribcage.

You liked the feel of it, though. 

So you held him tighter, too. 

« You really need to stop playing around. » He whispered, right into your ear.

« What are you talking about? » You softly spoke, right back into his ear.

He took another deep breath before his palms found their way onto your hips. He unglued your body from his, watching you look up at him with a puzzled, yet dazed look. « You think the coach’s thing is the only stressing me out? »

The world consisted only of the raindrops sliding off your huffed out bodies, and the lamp-post illuminating you. An aura surrounded the man, through your blurry, rained on gaze. 

« I like you, Y/N. »

There was no time for another thought to be formed in your mind before he leaned in to kiss you.

Song Eunseok kissed you.

His lips on yours were gone as quickly as they’ve landed. Your next view were the droplets free falling from his eyelashes. Behind them, secretly lied a gaze you mentally ordered yourself to memorize forever. You weren’t sure if it was love, though. Because how could you be sure of feeling an emotion you’ve never encountered before? And where were the fireworks that the stories you’ve been fed with your entire life have promised you?

You didn’t hate it. 

Whatever you felt, you wanted to feel more of it. 

He watched you reach for the back of his head with one hand, and the side of his neck with the other. He watched you lift yourself on your tippy toes, and he couldn’t believe his eyes. 

You planted a new kiss on his wet lips. Only, you felt like you couldn’t get enough of of it. 

Eunseok swore he could taste victory better on your lips than on any of the trophies he had left a peck on. He anchored you to him when he felt your toes struggling to stand still. And he prayed, to all of the higher forces that could exist, to make the moment last as long as possible. 

Not a single ounce of lust seeped through the near-divine kiss you shared, even after your tongues have exchanged many caresses of their own. 

Both of you found your opponents there, kissing like you fenced, wondering if each of your physical encounters would end up feeling so familiar. 

Him, strategically attacking you with an unsettling force. 

You, brutally uncovering all of his weaknesses after studying his every moves. 

Everything that your unsatisfied, complexed selves have been craving for, you ended up founding in the warmth of each your own dearest friend’s.

Your phone lit up once in your back pocket, but you couldn’t care less about anything else that wasn’t Eunseok eating your mouth open. His large cold hands slid their way down there, with the pretext of protecting themselves in said pockets. Your phone vibrated once again, and he felt it too. 

« Duty calls? » He whispered against your lips, both of yours covered in spit and fucked out smiles.

You scoffed, punched his forearm as a punishment for his wandering hands, and dived back into the kiss you started missing the second you left it. 

His stupid smile couldn’t be forced out of his lipgloss smeared lips as he lazily kept on kissing you, too. 

He was on cloud nine. It was so grossly obvious. Yet, thinking about all the time he had spent fancying you, made you want to kiss him a little harder. 

If it weren’t for the third, infuriating vibration against your butt-cheek, you would have been glued to his lips until sunrise. 

You reached for your phone in your back pocket, while he made your head rest on his chest to shelter you. He covered your phone and the top of your head with his hand, too, as it lat up your chest. It lat up Anton’s jersey.

The mere sight of it made it harder for him to swallow remains of your saliva. 

He innocently thought the notifications were just from your dad cockblocking him. 

But it would be underestimating his friends’ power over you. 

Plus, you were staring at your phone’s notifications center for way too long.

⌈ Lovely outfit today. ⌋

⌈ Would you wear it again Friday night? ⌋

⌈ I want to take you out, Y/N. ⌋ 

The inevitable smile that creeped on the lips he had just kissed, made his heart bleed to fatality. 

🤺

Eunseok just lost a point. 

Anton’s hand was still glued to your shoulder, even after dozens of people crossed lengths of bleachers, hopping over strangers’ knees, just to have the privilege of sharing a picture with him. You were rarely invited in them though, or acknowledged at all. Knowing your spotlight-craving nature, you were surprisingly unbothered by your partner’s new surge of fame. 

In fact, it made you love him more. You once shamelessly admitted to your girl friends how one’s sportsmanship could determine your attraction, and feelings for them. 

The more medals someone would win, the more points they’d win to get you. 

Anton cracked the code when he first tasted your lips, right after he beat his personal record for the 200M Freestyle in the selections for the school’s swim team. You celebrated in the very same pool he had newly decided to offer his body to, arms wrapped around his soaked shoulders, sharing wet, languorous kisses and splashed giggles. 

He couldn’t get enough of the way your face would lit up after each and every prizes he would bring home over the years. 

So he kept swimming. 

And kept winning. 

Just to come back to you, forget it all and drown in your eyes again. 

Your eyes happened to be just enough for him to be here, in Paris, collecting gold medals like pebbles. The last three days all ended with your most cherished trophy coming running over to you, spinning you around, feeding on the laughter and cheers he swam to win all along. 

His addiction to the proud look plastered all over your face whenever you glanced at him could have got him banished from competitions.

He once pillow-talked to you about his theory of your past lives, being that he once was a greek athlete, a pioneer olympian, that only competed in worship of you. He kissed each of your knuckles afterwards, and later that day, came back with your initial added in one of the Olympic rings tattooed on his right bicep.

He sat down, finally free of his whispered meet and greet, kissed your shoulder, and turned his focus back on the match, almost forgetting the bitter taste of his presence there. He grounded himself by firmly holding your knee, as the bleachers suddenly felt too high for him. 

You, however, were almost annihilated by the game, wondering just how will Eunseok get his point back. You were almost starting to get upset by it. By everything mad that has ever happened to you, too. You thought it boiled down, the resurfacing anger from the day he decided to switch schools without telling you.

Was it really resurfacing anger, though, when it has been burning your guts every single day since 2017? 

Will it ever truly leave you, when the mere thought of fencing makes you feel 18 and abandoned again? 

Will you ever be at peace with the man you were cheering for, next to the man you shared keys with? 

🤺

You were sending undelivered texts to Eunseok with your right hand, and holding your new boyfriend’s arm with the left one. 

« You should eat, it’s going cold. » Anton told you, softly shimmying your cheek out of his shoulder. 

You absently nodded, not even bothering to straighten up and pretending to obey. Every single soul around the table could see your mind wandering elsewhere, but they had much more interesting topics to focus on. Like practice, competitions, and Asia Games. All of their non-athlete friends and lovers barely kept it together as they felt like their heads were going to explode from hearing too much sporty non-sense. Even though you have finally acquired your title of « Riizing Boys’ Girlfriend, » you weren’t quite included in the second bubble of conversation that formed over lunch. No, you preferred having one with the ghost of your true first kiss who has decided to vanish from the surface of earth four days ago. 

Your messages delivered, though, four days sooner.

Your concern for his absence seemed to torment no one else but you. Anytime you’d ask one of his ex-teammates, their reply would leave you even more lost and confused. You have stopped interrogating the team after the third player, Wonbin, « jokingly » replied he must’ve been sick of being around you every day. But also, to not raise any suspicion on the fogged up nature of your friendship. 

Anton had gained your attention once again, asking you to eat once again, but the very little appetite you had was definitely lost when you saw your text bubble switch to green, in the corner of your eye. 

There was no way.

You quietly excused yourself out of the table, as discreetly as you could. 

However, your discretion happened to not have gone unnoticed by Sohee, who followed your steps right after unwrapping his arm around his emo brunette girlfriend’s shoulders. 

Your lonesome session of deeply inhaling the fading spring’s breeze was cut short by him walking up to you, burying the worry that crushed him in his huge jean’s pockets.

« It kills me to see you like this. » He simply stated.

You were taken aback by it, as you weren’t that close to him. 

But Eunseok is, or was. 

You smiled, and assured him that you were fine through your knotted throat. 

« No you’re not. » He sighs, his gaze fixated on your unevenly concealed eye-bags. « Listen, I’m not supposed to tell you this but I will anyway. My girl keeps telling me how bad it is to keep that away from you, and fuck it, she’s right. » 

You braced yourself, arms crossed, and nodded. « What’s up? »

 « Anton doesn’t know either though… » He added, before looking around and leaning towards you. 

Seconds later, you are hit with the news that scooped the ground right off your feet.

Not by surprise, because you expected it. 

You saw it coming like a lunge.

And there was no way to avoid the deadly strike, and scar it left on your poor self. 

Eunseok left to study in Japan. 

And broke contact with you.

4 years later

March 2021

« Are you sure you’re okay? » Jimin asked, as you were losing a third point into your first practice game of the day. 

You nodded, out of breath, admitting to your years-long opponent that your entire body was particularly sore today. 

She snatched her mask off, revealing a smirk curving her glossy lips « Oh right, it was Anton’s birthday yesterday, I almost forgot. »

You teasingly attacked her with your sword, shushing her up from revealing a half-truth. All three of her strikes have hit marked spots from the night before, you kept having stomach butterflies-inducing flashbacks of. What has gotten into him, you wondered, reminiscing the way your hip bones knocked on the kitchen counter, bathroom sink, and shower wall, all in an impossibly short span.

The other source of your lack of focus was not so thrilling. It was quite the opposite, since it actually terrified you, since you’ve listened, in disbelief, to your college best friend’s whereabouts on the radio. Hearing about it against your will for the past couple of years have made your grieving journey harder than it should’ve been. Four years, in which you’ve entered your twenties, moved in with your college crush, integrated the National Fencing team, adopted a kitten, and buried gold fishes have passed. Four years of secretly scrolling through Japan’s national fencing team social media posts, under Anton’s spoon, lullabied by his soft snoring. 

You hated yourself for it, though. 

But no hate you could feel against someone could possibly surpass the one you felt for Eunseok. 

Which is why you nearly crashed yourself into a tree when you heard the reason your coach was about to gather your team in the conference room. 

Song Eunseok has come back home. 

Neither did the radio host’s or your coach’s voice have made it real enough for you to believe it.

It wasn’t until he walked in under camera flashes that you’ve felt it. 

Everything. 

You felt everything come back. 

The creaking sound of the bleachers under your youthful laughs. The strawberry milk flavored, moonlit practices. The soaked kiss. His brother’s sheets and his mother’s shower gel. 

And the pain, the agonizing, visceral pain of everything being ripped out of your life on a random Thursday. 

Once the white blocky flashing lights stopped concealing the face that was once your home, you were hit with the stupid realization that, that man was your first love. 

As he blinked the lingering blindness, he looked for your face in the seated crowd.

And when he did find you, he smiled. 

He smiled at you, offering you nothing but friendship and dimples. 

As if it was enough. 

As if stupid dimples were enough to forgive leaving you in the other side of the sea, for a stupid sport. For your stupid sport. 

You couldn’t stand any of the bullshit he was standing on. You were mad, mad enough to leave the room, not as discreetly as you once did.

How dared he come back bothering the peace you have worked so hard to build, after he had so easily destroyed it? How could he smile so prettily for the cameras, knowing the one person he should be apologizing to on his knees is standing right there, apology-less? How could he not learn from his errors, and warn you this time? 

The walls of what you called home more than the one you shared with your boyfriend, suffocated you for the very first time. So you left them, and drove. And you could’ve gone to the warmth of Anton’s arms, of your bed or of your bathtub. 

But your mind longed for stress-relief, instead of relaxation. 

Although, your tensed and sore body screamed for the latter.

« Practice starts in an hour, alright? » Sohee stated, leaning on the door’s frame, the same worried expression frowning his youthful face.

Maybe, it was your heart that made you stand in front of a hoop.

« I’ll let Anton know you’re here » he added to deaf ears before leaving you, as you already started to loudly dribble the heavy ball on the shining wooden ground of the Seoul’s Basketball Team’s practice room.

You thought you were strong enough to feed your mind with thirst for scoring points, without ever drifting to Eunseok’s lips pressed against your ear, teaching you how to win. 

As you failed yet another shot, you also thought of the fact that you have never gotten close to winning against him in his discipline, when you have once shared a 9-15 points combat. 

He had been lying, you were just now realizing, dribbling away your confusion, making sense of the late epiphany you were now having. 

He didn’t approach you to teach him fencing. 

He wasn’t a genius, nor a fast-learner as he repeated. 

He already knew how to play. 

There just wasn’t any male fencing team.

And he just wanted to spend time with you. 

You scored. 

You were his first love, too. 

You picked up the ball, and scored again. 

He loved you so much, he crossed the sea so he wouldn’t have to see his first love get with what he thought was yours.

You felt lighter all of the sudden. As if the soreness and bruises from last night’s have been washed down your body. You felt light enough to dunk without sitting on Eunseok’s shoulder, for once. 

You truly felt like it. 

So you jumped, higher than you ever have in your life, and dunked. 

Adrenaline rushed in your veins in such a delightful way, that you have forgotten that as an athlete, listening to your body was the only thing that mattered. It wasn’t scores, performances, peers, sponsors, or money. It was your body. But it was too late to remember it now. 

You were on the floor.

And you couldn’t believe the thud followed by a cracking sound, was the sound of your knee. 

It couldn’t be.

🤺

Anton’s hand still rested right there, squeezing it every time a player scored. 

Uncertainty resided within your heart in his attempt to reassure you. Each squeezes feeling like thousands of swords plunging in the wound left by your crushed lifelong dreams. 

He meant well, though. He meant them like kisses. 

So you covered his hand with your palm, grounding yourself too, on the touch of your partner of 7 years. 

You thought you’d feel more sick than that, watching your first fencing game ever since the incident. 

It was not a harmless sight, nonetheless.

You missed it all so bad, thinking of it for more than a minute would make you undeniably cry rivers, for your grief was still young and fresh. It has only been two years since the Asia games’ doors closed right in front of your hopeful soul. 

Since you have been amputated of the life you have been building since you were a child. 

Since you have died on a basketball court. 

Your forehead sweat would never uncomfortably trickle down your collarbones under the hot white suit again.

You never got to unpack a new one again, smelling the fresh new fabric for days, until it would absorb your own salty smell.   

Your sword would never accidentally hit someone on public transportation again. 

And no one else would ever say that you were glued to it, whenever someone would see you eat, with it laid next to your food. 

You would never train at the gym with your teammates turned friends, giggling on the stair master for minutes again. 

You would never turn teammates into friends again.

You would never plug, and unplug yourself to the score counting matching again. 

And you would never roar from your guts whenever you’d win again. 

You would never win again. 

You never played again. 

🤺

From Anton’s arms, carrying you princess-style as he screamed for help, to the sun-bathed rehab center, a million things you were unable to properly recollect, have happened. 

You have seen therapists that have tried to find you a new purpose in life in the span of 60 minutes weekly consultations, eaten countless of close to tasteless food, received an overwhelming amount of bouquets from all of the coaches, teammates and friends you ever had, and cried after each and every one of their visits. You have dried gallons of your parent’s, Anton’s and every of your loved one’s tears. You have also started knitting, as Sungchan’s bride-to-be have brought you a starting kit to keep up with a new distraction, other than the torturing one you had of keeping up with fencing news. Keeping up with the life you should be living. The life you spent your days and nights mourning, within the four walls of your hospital room. You have even witnessed the reformation of the « Riizing Boys » within those same walls. The six of them filled it with laughter, as they decided to come playing cards and performing karaoke to you every weekends. 

All of them, except for Eunseok. 

His absence haunted your convalescence. Every day for 6 weeks, you’d meet the depressing grey ceiling first, as his face would pop-up in your mind. And every night for 6 weeks, your eyelids would heavily close to the hope of him showing up, leaning against the huge doorframe one day. 

You’d toss and turn in your sleep, wondering whether shame, guilt or none of the above refrained him from coming to visit you. And Anton, as sweet as he was, would only slip his hand out of yours when he’d be sure of your arrival in Morphea’s embrace. As long as you had him, you’d think it would be easier to forget Eunseok’s existence altogether. But you were only a girl who missed her college best friend, and the body she used to live for. 

Complaints and whines once slipped out of your mouth in the safe company of a handful of your girl friends. 

« He ain’t shit anyway », have Sohee’s high school sweetheart spat. Every one of them thoroughly nodded, agreeing to the brown-eyed woman’s truthful statement. 

« If I were you, » Started Sungchan’s promised, « I’d ask for Anton to beat him up. »

You laughed, fully knowing, by looking at her piercing blue eyes, that she meant it in all seriousness. Watching all of them tear him apart with witty insults and embarrassing memories of him during your college years brought peace to your heart. You weren’t alone, grieving the Eunseok you once knew, who’d carry bandages in his cargo pants’ pockets every day, for every single one of your aches, as tiny as they could be. The girls would sneak in the dark chocolates you’d share with him, high up in the bleachers, whilst you lined your future in the early evening stars. They’d also just sit there, merging complains and praises of their respective partners, as you crocheted them tops for their up-coming events you should’ve attended alongside them. 

Your bones would hurt less and less, whilst your prayers for his return would make themselves rarer and rarer. As you took your first trembling, impossibly challenging steps in the hospitals corridors, the idea that the hollow place in your heart for fencing could only be filled with love for a kid with Anton, bloomed in your head. You couldn’t imagine loving anything else. 

And you were everything, but ready to love again.

Your third re-walking session of the week have just ended when the hospital’s garden have looked most promenade-worthy. Soon enough, you were half hopping, half limping with your crutches among slow troupes of retired people, and limb-less recovering adults. Despite the nice track your healing was on, you have not quite often found yourself inhaling the herbal scented air, the freshly produced oxygen out of the tall trees that traced a rounded path. Finding an empty bench was a dreadful task, since everyone seemed to have chosen to take a break at the same time as you. 

You eventually found one, by a duck and koi pond. Little ducklings following around their mama suddenly made you miss Anton, when you’ve heard way too healthy steps to be from a wounded stroller, like you, right behind you. The way the rocks were smashed beneath their feet, instead of seductively dragging on the ground, immediately eliminated your boyfriend from the guessing list. 

Fear and curiosity fought a tough battle within you, as you debated whether you should turn around, or limp out of here. 

It could just be a nurse, you thought to yourself. 

Though you were far from believing in yourself. 

You didn’t even flinch, when the silhouette of a chestnut haired man quietly sat besides you. 

The koi fishes kept on aimlessly turning round and round, deep in the emerald water, and the duck family jumped out of it, one by one, as if they were giving you space to talk it out. 

Or find something to talk about. 

Clapping leaves, summer scented crickets, random droplets and wheelchairs’ wheels rolling on the rocky path. 

You were hearing everything, but an apology. 

You felt like tearing up, like dying even, when he finally spoke up.

« Break up with him. » He started.

« Be my coach. » He pleated. 

Clapping leaves, summer scented crickets, random droplets, wheelchairs’ wheels rolling on the rocky path…

And a slap. 

« What the fuck is wrong with you? » You asked, the tingling sensation lingering on your palm.

« I’m still in love with you. » He truthfully replied, his cheek reddening. 

Your ribs felt like shattering under the extreme pounding of your heart. Heat, flushed the entirety of your numbed-down, heavily medicated body. The cracking of his voice in his followings words made you realize that the only cause of your overwhelmed state was what came out of his mouth. You weren’t even looking at him, yet. And the slap seemed to already belong to history. 

« I… don’t think there are enough words to express how sorry I am. I left you before I could even give us a chance. I am so fucking stupid, and so fucking sorry. And… I’ve read it, you know. The last text you ever sent me. And, I couldn’t forget our kiss, too. To this day, I still replay it, like I’m a fucking broken disc, trying to make sense of a single kiss we shared years ago… Because you haunt me. You always have. And I’m barely brave enough to face you. And you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. » 

He paused. 

« If I could give you my career, my knee, my entire life, I would. In a heartbeat. »

He breathed out, letting his head down, accepting the fact that you, turning to look into his eyes, was not happening, no matter how much you were fighting every single one of your muscles to not succumb. 

« Fence through me, Y/N. Coach me, live everything I took from you through me. I miss you. I miss everything about you. I miss you so much that, » He practically collapses, kneeling on the humid grass before you, his nose grazing your broken bone. « I want to be anything for you, and I will do anything for you. Please. »

As if you were programmed to do so, your palm found his thick glowing hair, smoothly gliding beneath your hand. The thoughts that formed in your head made you tremble, as the truth of your following statement planted daggers through your heart and knee. 

« I’m not the girl you miss anymore. »

Your eyes went from the calming auras forming at the surface of the pond, to the stillness of his figure. 

« You’re not just a knee, Y/N. » He replied, looking up to you.

Was it the way the teary gaze you fell in love with dived into yours, or the fact that he was the one who just pronounced the very phrase you wished for your parents, doctors, therapists, and boyfriend to tell you, that made your entire self break into tears. 

The blood that pumped through your veins, rushed with ache for the unbearable, impossible love that has just crashed onto you, your life and story.

This was it, the fireworks they talked about in novels. 

And there he was sniffing on his knees, as your face melted in your soaked palms. Your imagination could have been playing you tricks, drunk on your own tears, but you swore you could hear a bunch of passing-by people gasping and congratulating your « proposal ». Eunseok took notice of your sobs growing in intensity from the irony of it all, and sat back next to you, his thigh now glued to yours. His entire body shielded you from your own violent shakes.  

The shushing, and sea-like sound of the weeping willow’s leaves soothed you to sheer sadness, instead of devastation. 

He protectively held you for a while.

A while long enough for his tear-stained shirt to dry, whilst your head was still laying on it. 

Against the strong, trembling surface of his chest, you thought of how silly it was of you to believe that you would remain unfazed, unmoved, grossed out even, by whatever he’d have to tell you at this stage of your rehabilitation. It was way too late to apologize, and the damage was way beyond repair by now. Or so you thought, before he’d crawl out of his guilt, begging to your feet for you, and everything you selfishly wished for. 

Nevertheless, your cries reflected no relief nor blissful satisfaction in being declared unconditional, almost over-the-top love to.  

You cried out of grief, again. 

You were now witnessing what could have been the start of the story you have silently, shamefully prayed for, and peeled out of your thoughts when you’d shampoo for a bit too long. The passionate declaration that would fast-forward to a happy, lively, and sporty marriage, that you would daydream about in every rides you’d take. The fireworks, the love that burns the blood and twists the bones, that you have looked for in every corners of the pools you’d have secret dates with your boyfriend. 

You loved Anton, though. 

Which is why your eyes would take days to completely dry. 

Eunseok walked you back into your room, softly pushing on a wheelchair, since love has weakened you all over. He tried to break a laugh out of you with slaloms motions, or teased you by having longer than necessary conversations with whoever passed by him. You’d try to roll away to get faster to your room, but he’d grip on your chair hard enough to refrain you from it. It made you giggle. There were few things that he did that didn’t have this effect on you. 

He never changed, only became a better fencer.

So, easier to love.

Thus, impossible to let go of. 

And you were doomed to do it. 

3 mere hours weren’t close to enough to catch up on 7 years apart, especially since it used to take you entire evenings to properly retell what happened over lunch, even though you sat at the ends of the same table. 

But there was no time to tell him about your pregnancy scare, the 6 months long fight you’ve had with Anton’s coach, the day you went skydiving, or the drama that happened over that one couple in your class you used to hate on back then. Because Anton would be there in less than half an hour. And because you cared about him, there was no way you’d have Eunseok like this again. 

Each and every seconds that passed before the inevitable felt all too cruel. 

Here you sat, under the ugly grey light of the room. It would be the last one you’d shine in as the best friend you once were to him, and vice versa.

Even under the ugly grey light, setting eyes on him only further confirmed the truth you were terrified to spend a lifetime coping with.

It was him. 

Your greatest love was him. 

After all, Anton never fenced with you. 

The conversation you were having on each of the boys’ career unwillingly died down now. Silence sat right between you, amplifying your fear of saying goodbye. It was palpable, the force that linked the two of you, now at breaking point.

The way your throat painfully knotted itself even made you doubt on the way you parted from fencing. Was it less, or as painful as choosing your boyfriend of seven years, the one guy you have fantasized about all your youth, over the one person who made the word « soulmate » make sense ?

Each of you exchanged sorry glances, carefully coated in humble gratefulness for the moment.

« Tell me there’s a way. » He ended up sighing, lacing his fingers together, wishing for his other hand to be yours.

You tilted your head in confusion, curiosity, and in all honesty, slight fear of what he was about to say. 

« Tell me there’s a way I can be yours. »

His last desperate word lingered in the air. The air that felt harder to breathe all of the sudden. 

He was right, there had to be a way. 

So you searched for inspiration on his face, lightly twisted in worry. And found it, on the tiny horizontal scar right above his left eyebrow. Seeing it up-close made you 18 again, watching your sword wiggling around in his hands as he yelled out matching sound effects. The memory of a single tear of blood slowly falling along his startled face made you chuckle on your growing tears. And here stood the adult version of the boy you were, and will always be, deeply fond of. 

You still couldn’t believe you were losing him.  

Sport was the most beautiful thing that have ever came into your life. Your baby teeth would fall into your helmet, and grow back during the youth you sacrificed to the épée. The only thing that made your parents buy four other shelves for your trophies was setting your mind to win. Your mind never lusted over anything else than winning, and seeing others putting their entire self into it. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that you lived for it. 

The thirst that turns your body in a unrecognizable anxiety-induced carnage, the adrenaline that endlessly floods from your brain to your toes, and the orgasmic, other-worldly sensation of having the victorious status placed upon you, shining like a crown. 

And if you wouldn’t be able to live through it all again, you deserved to watch it unravel. 

Your lips popped out of the cage of teeth you trapped them in. 

A tiny smirk stretched them, illuminating your desperate face. 

« Become an Olympic Champion next year. » 

🤺

14-13

Anton’s hand felt too heavy on your knee, your scar jolted awake in bolts of pains by his sweet, sweet thumb grazing it. This abnormal pressure was shared by every pieces of fabric that stuck on your sprinkling skin. The scores and whistles controlled your now manual breathing. Your stomach tied itself around nothing recent to digest. You barely blinked, your blown up irises hysterically dancing in between the two players, studying their every movements. You also turned your knuckles a worrying shade of white as you gripped your plastic seat. 

It was safe to say : you were losing your shit. 

Eunseok have carelessly lost points all over the second part, screaming his rage out every time he did so. Your tongue could be bleeding from all those times you have refrained yourself from joining him in his act, or downstairs. Glancing at the score, realizing that you might be a point away for your world to collapse, was making your skin burn in all sorts of places, an acidic taste slowly blooming in your mouth. If it weren’t for the delightful, gut-wrenching spectacle you were a lucky live witness of, you’d be cursing yourself to the hells for that stupid challenge you gave him. 

You actually thought he wouldn’t make it to the finale.

But now that he did, you found yourself praying for Yannick Borel’s immediate downfall. 

« En Garde… »

He just had to miss two times. 

« Prêts ? »

But he also just had to score, once. 

« Allez ! »

You stopped breathing. 

The players hopped in place, as did your indexes on the edge of your seat, as if they were little characters you controlled. The squeaky sound of their soles hitting the graphic floor echoed for a little while, until Eunseok decided to first break synchronization on their hops. 

He feinted attacks on Borel’s under defensed’s left arm. And another one, down his thigh.  

If Eunseok was a bolder fencer, he already would’ve had the point, you thought. 

But he was the surprising the type. 

The type you used to hate confronting. 

Constantly playing defense, until they see a breach open, an opportunity to seize when your guard is down, and run to you with big steps, like a recurrent nightmare catching you up in your needed sleep. 

Kissing you with death. 

Borel understood, and grew accustomed to his attacking style at least 5 points ago. 

Though, he still had a hard time defensing every parts of his body against it.

He defended his arm by wrapping it around his lower torso, crouched, now reaching for Eunseok’s thighs. 

His sword swooped the air. 

14-14

Eunseok landed from his jump, his point stinging Borel���s shoulder blades. 

As soon as he scooped the victory off Yannick’s back, you were on your feet, screaming your lungs out. Anton jolted, placing his hand on your hips as an attempt to hold you if you were to fall. He looked up at you, watching you roar a « Come on » from the depths of your guts, a sound he has never quite heard before. 

Under the Palais’ stadium lights, each and every strands of the crown of your hair, backlit to shades of blues and golds, made you look like an actual goddess. There he sat, in awe of the woman he was certain he could spend a lifetime worshipping. And there you stood, knowing you should be peeling your eyes away from Eunseok’s sweaty smile of relief plastered all over the screens, especially since Anton had a light grip on your shirt, but you thoroughly knew that you couldn’t. You couldn’t stop looking at him, the dark shiny hair strands that were glued to his forehead, the dimples that dug through his cheeks, and then, the switch in his eyes and furrowed eyebrows, when it was time to put the mask on, and lock back in. 

You were the last of your row to sit back down as the arena grew quieter. 

Waves of panic in it’s purest state crashed on your entire being, in forces that felt as if your soul would detach itself from your body. You were reaching stress-levels you thought unbeatable minutes ago. Anton quickly took notice of your trembling legs, and perfect manicure progressively getting ruined. His hands shielded yours from your shaking teeth, as he made you look at him for a second, thankfully, during time-out. 

The sight of his soft traits relaxed yours in a miraculous instant. 

His touch cooled you down. 

His thumb lovingly caressing the side of your fist slowed down your breathing. 

And as if your heart haven’t found enough peace in him, he reached for your hair, petting it, murmuring « Are you okay? » to the thresholds of your tortured soul. 

You nodded, gulping your huge lie down your chest, where you felt a big pressure. It finally came down to you, in a flash, the absolute stupidity of your challenge. 

You were possibly a point away from losing the one thing that made your life hold together.

The person who picked you up, pieces by pieces, from your shattered state on the court’s floor, to your first teary-eyed jogging session along the Han River. 

The one person you’ve granted access to each and every parts of your body. 

The one person who’d peel all of the pistachios, and gut out all the pomegranates for you. 

The one person who’d sneak a sample of your perfume in all of his coat’s pockets.

The one person you’d cook for his mother, father, siblings, and himself.

The one person you’ve made a home with, and made a home of.

In the end, Anton has proved himself to be your favorite person in the entire world. 

In the end, you were the one that always refused to teach him fencing, for your own selfish sake, when all he wanted was to know you, and each of the worlds you belonged to completely. 

There was a part of your soul that you’ve denied him access to, and instead of complaining, or forcing you, he just waited. 

You never ended your nod, your head still hanging low, out of shame, guilt, pain and everything else that has been crushing you for the entirety of the combat. Your partner peeked at your hidden face, and needed no more information than the muffled sound of you sniffing to bury your head in his chest. The last point was about to be gained, by a player or another, but you couldn’t peel yourself away from him. You couldn’t watch it. 

It was better this way.

Everything was better in Anton’s arms. 

Even losing him. 

The same squeaky sound of the fencer’s shoes on the platform echoed yet again through the hall. The church-like silence that dances with them, though, have never felt so heavy on everyone’s shoulders. It was okay, though, with Anton’s palms on yours, and the beating of his heart to focus on. It oddly felt comforting to imagine that he knew about what was at stake here. His tight hold on you, feeling like the last grasp of air a drowning person would do. His focused eyes, replacing yours, as if you sent him to battle to death with Eunseok for you.

The actual battle that occurred beneath you felt like a never-ending one. As calm and still as you could be, you tested your patience and almost meditated to the sound of Eunseok’s hops and grunts, tickling your burning ear. Even if you’ve mentally fought yourself a few times to just fuck it and turn around, Anton wouldn’t allow you. 

You were stuck to the bone, until the whistle would blow.

And it did. 

And the announcer’s voice from the speakers, unknowingly, cracked open your life into two, one part of which you will never know the outcome of.

A part you were doomed to mourn, again, forever. 

15-14

—

The sea of blue bleachers slowly cleared itself above you, as the Korean, French, and German flags lowered themselves to the ground. The rain of confettis slowly died down, also, pooling on people’s hair and shoulders. The crowd left in waves, the time in between the beautiful spectacle of sport they were all privileged enough to see, and the train of their lives about to restart, hanging in the air, lingering. Your eyes aimlessly swept around the Grand Palais, encountering as many celebrating and saddened faces as it could in a matter of seconds. 

Though, it left you thoughtless.

You felt like nothing but a bag of blood, bones and flesh, walking in your man’s steps, lighter and lighter as you walked, free of all the stress that previously crushed your heart. 

He guided you to an event you were certain of replaying throughout the rest of your life, but you numbly followed him still.

And you arrived to destination. Your first view being Eunseok’s shoes a meter away from yours. 

Losing your knee, your life, your entire career, and processing it all from the beginning each time you fell asleep, was a hundred times easier than simply looking up. 

Anton, your sweet Anton, slipped his hand out of your grasp to swiftly put it on your lower back, before he went reaching for Eunseok, who just like you, simply missed his college best friend. 

The devastating sight of their embrace cured you from your aches. You saw love pour out of them, for each other. So much, that you briefly caught yourself suspecting a secret connexion, as some of the lingering touches and glances they offered each other happened to be a second too long. An inch too loving. 

You didn’t have time, to investigate, though, as it was now your cue to get stabbed in the heart. You thought you’d explode out of love when you’d crash into Eunseok’s arms, and feel his heavy, dangling medal dig its way into your ribs. You thought you’d faint, or die, even. 

Even though they were close to happening, none of them occurred. 

He caged you in his sobbing body, matching yours, you melted, as did he. Your respective embraces crushed each of you, as much as it soothed you. You, by the salty smell of your firsts loves, fencing and Eunseok. And him, by the vanilla smell of the hair he’d lock in a singular braid before you’d go to battle, whether it was under the bleachers, or projectors. He had to stop himself from running his hand through it, for the sole public of this scene silently grew impatient, and jealous. 

You knew it. 

He knew it. 

And you stayed there, privately celebrating, inhaling and already missing each other.

Before he could peel himself off, you heard him whisper an apology by the crook of your neck, instantly raising the hairs on it, and making your fists tremble around his fresh suit. 

He patted the new growing sobs away on your back, and looked up to the glass ceiling, through which he caught the moon, looking down on your doomed, broken souls. 

You eventually parted, as the universe, and the referee decided.  

« Congratulations on your medal, Eunseok. » You managed to say, looking directly into his eyes. 

You haven’t known any heavier burden to carry other than the white silver rock on your ring finger, matching the shiny medal that covered the pieces you left his heart in. 

« Congratulations on your wedding, Y/N. » He replied, sincerely smiling. 

GOTHAMGF©

author's note : muahahaha.... this is my very first riize work and work in a long while. hope you enjoyed, I really liked writing this :)

[oncasette]

OMG do u have any ideas for the frat lads boys and their extracurriculars??? Like would raf be on the swim team…. And maybe Zayne helps organize the end of semester symposiums for lifesci undergrads 🥺🥺🥺

okay okay i love this

i feel like sylus wouldn't do very many activities that have to do with the university itself. like, he's never bored, but he tends to enjoy doing stuff on his own or with his brothers. he's always tinkering with something in his room (mephi prototype) or doing online auctions for something he thinks is cool.

zayne would be apart of the linkon equiv of AMSA (american medical student association) and like potentially an academic frat? one that he knows isn't a scam and will give him good connections in the field once he graduates.

i completely agree that raf would be on the swim team. i don't think he devotes his all to it, but he's so naturally adept at it that he doesn't need to. LDS wanted him bad because of the colleigate athlete thing. (also just like... picking him up from morning swim with his hair still a little wet pls). i also think that he would be apart of an environmental club that goes on beach trips to clean up the shore.

xavier participates in all of the student led studies that he gets paid for, but especially any of the sleep ones. and he gets like 20 bucks a study. zayne knows he can recruit xav whenever he needs him.

caleb coaches the local rec league's youth basketball team. it's only for like three months out of the year, but he'll go back for a couple week long camps over breaks. those kids absolutely adore him and he got a t-shirt with all their signatures in sharpie and a big "we heart coach caleb" on the front.

[mothtarts]

can someone write a hilson teacher-au or am i going to have too? CAN SOMEONE WRITE A HILSON TEACHER AU OR AM I GOING TO HA-

anyways i have a rough idea for what they would teach. i was like “oh should i make them science teachers?” but that felt boring and i think this fits their vibes and personalities more (this is also very american so im sorry)

*house - ap world history /ap gov (he’s the teacher ppl say is evil and insane but you will learn the most from and pass the ap exam)

*wilson - ap language/ asb/ coach for varsity basketball ( he always has his class open and it’s full of gay kids and the athletes failing their subjects)

*cuddy- principle (duh) (she always goofs off during assemblies and will call out kids in front of the whole school for talking)

*chase - art teacher/ soccer coach (he was a sub at first but after the old teacher retired he stayed. hes the teacher that is supervising TO many clubs)

*foreman - all the super hard math classes (he always lets kids retake his tests and if your a senior lets you skip out on class)

*cameron - chemistry/ yearbook (all the kids love her and go to her class to vent about their family and relationship life) (she’s in charge of gsa)

*thirteen- psychology/ Econ/basketball coach (she is often spotted in the faculty parking lot taking a nap in her car. students are terrified of her but she’s rlly attuned with youth culture and gets them to warm up to her)

*kutner- councilor( deadass think he would be so good at being a councilor. he has favorite students and gives them good schedules)

*amber- english/ journalism/volleyball coach (she usually hangs out in the halls and yells at kids for doing pda has the BEST tutoring labs ever you will pass her class.)

*taub- on campus sub- (ppl audibly groan when they see him subbing their class)

pls pls lemme know if yall have any good ideas for this possible au im like fully gonna write it