#even found a ride to a team party this Saturday and two teammates asked if i could bring them kimchi to try

[lupismaris]

First practice for me where I cannot/should not play and despite some hiccups unrelated to me I was included I was seen I was remembered I was needed I was wanted

[dc41896]

Penny for Your Thoughts (2)

Pairing: QB!Chris EvansxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: You definitely didn’t expect your first date to be so hectic, yet so perfect

⚠️: None just fluff💕

The weekend of a home game always seemed to have the city in more of a buzz than normal. Everyone rushing from store to store trying to get everything they’d need for watch parties and tailgating. Streets holding more cars from those who followed the visiting team to physically show their support.

And if said game resulted in a win, the energy only intensified as those invested seemed to sport brighter smiles. It even made complete strangers high-five after raving how no team could do it better. That was the current state surrounding you now after Boston College’s 24-12 comeback victory.

Since entering the dimly lit restaurant, all eyes were stuck to the two of you. Well mostly Chris, but you also received glances from those nosy enough to wonder who you were to him, and the occasional eye roll from the girls wishing they were the ones being led by his large hand to the table. He warned you ahead of time that this would probably happen and apologized in advance, but you understood it just came with the territory.

His eyes lift from scanning his menu to watch you studying yours as you toyed with the gold banded ring on your index finger. You already made his chest warm just from the slightest glimpse of you, but your face illuminated by the small lamp on the table had a soft smile spreading across his lips feeling as if you were the only two in the room.

“See anything you like?,” he asked, solid body leaning forward as his hands nervously rubbed together under the table and it’s pristine, white table cloth.

“Everything sounds so good, but I think I’ll just stick with a salad or something.”

“You sure? Get anything you want, it’s my treat. Plus I still owe you a celebration for acing your exam.”

Your face brightens at the reference to the conversation you had last month. That’s when your date was supposed to happen originally, but with you being so stressed about passing, you both agreed that it’d probably be best to try again later.

“We’ll go the next time we’re both free. That way we can celebrate.”

“Celebrate what exactly?,” you giggled, phone pressed against your ear as you scribbled more notes at your desk.

“You passing, duh.”

“Thanks for the confidence, but let’s not call it so early.”

Sure enough, he predicted right.

“You remembered,” you smiled.

“Of course I did, why would I forget?,” he asks. Fingertips finding your knee to graze against your soft skin making your cheeks warm.

“Well in that case, I’ll have the lobster, steak, and I’ll go ahead and put in my dessert order,” you joke flashing your most innocent smile.

“It’s up to you cutie.” You both laugh, but yours is a bit shorter lived at the reveal of his apparent nickname for you. From the way he carried on as if nothing happened, briefly checking his vibrating phone, you didn’t know if it was an accidental slip of the tongue or him being comfortable enough to say it in front of you.

Either way, your heart fluttered at the sentiment and how it sounded off his tongue.

“Excuse me,” a thick, Boston accent interrupts slightly startling both of you. “I hate to cut in, but I just wanted to say that game was incredible!”

“Oh um thanks man,” he politely smiles.

“I’ve been watching since I was a boy, and I can truly say you got something special kid. Like with that trick play to put us in the lead?! Phenomenal! No way you’re not going in the first round. Speaking of, you got any teams in mind? I know you gotta be eyeing the Pats!”

“I uh really appreciate the kind words, but I’m kinda in the middle of something,” Chris replies motioning between the both of you with his finger. From the look in his eyes, hoping that the middle aged man would get the hint.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he replies holding up his hands as he takes a step back. “You kids have a good time, and you keep throwing those touchdowns.” With a final wave and pat of his shoulder, Chris waits until the fan is definitely gone before apologizing to you with sympathetic eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s okay. They’re excited to see you.”

“This is our time though, and I want all my focus going to you.”

“Aww, that’s very-,”

“Hi! Sorry, but you’re the quarterback for BC right?!,” the excited lady asks holding the hand of her small son probably around eight or nine. Before answering, he looks to you seemingly asking you for permission, and although you knew he’d respectfully turn them away explaining how he’d be sure to find them later if you gave the right signal, you didn’t want to be the one getting in the way of him and his fans. Especially when they were little kids.

Gently nodding your head with a small smile, he quickly mouths “sorry” before turning his attention back to the mom and son, giving the awestruck boy a high five at his mentioning of how he has Chris’ jersey at home. At the mother’s asking, you took pictures of the three of them before she was heading back to the table with the little boy still smiling like the Cheshire Cat looking down at his favorite college quarterback’s autograph and small personalized message on the napkin in his hands.

“Now, where were we?,” he asks settling back in his seat, taking a drink from his glass of water. You don’t get the chance to answer, hearing a pair of heels clacking against the tile floor coming closer to your table. The head of red hair with perfect beach waves cascading down to her shoulders has a satisfied smirk on her pink, glossed lips as she finally reaches the two of you, more so focused on Chris.

“Well isn’t this a sight for sore eyes. Then again I probably shouldn’t be surprised seeing you here at our place.”

Actually, it wasn’t. They only came there once and she was solely preoccupied with making sure all her followers knew she was being spoiled at a fancy restaurant while they weren’t. Chris didn’t even remember getting a word in that night, having to listen to her boast about all the people who would be jealous of her if they already weren’t.

Finally setting her crystalline, blue eyes on you, you see right through the sweet facade as she sticks out her hand. Almond shaped nails freshly manicured a sparkly light blue color. “Where are my manners, I’m Kelly. I’m sure you’ve heard about me before.”

“Not really, no,” you answer shaking her hand and making her smirk falter. “That’s a pretty dress though.”

“Thanks,” she dryly replies pulling her hand back to her side.

“Babe, our table’s ready.”

A man built similar to Chris and around your age with black hair and hazel eyes lightly grazes her arm to get her attention, clearly not wanting to completely be shown to the table as he stayed behind her. You didn’t have to be a genius to figure out he was the guy she cheated with and was too guilty to face his teammate.

Well, soon to be former from the rumblings at the game of those who were in the know with the dealings of the players.

“You two enjoy your dinner,” Chris speaks finding your hand across the table and enclosing it with his warm one. This simple movement nearly had Kelly combust seeing him moved on with someone else, while you began to wonder even more about his true intentions.

“Yea, y-you too,” the unnamed man quickly replies pulling his speechless date with him, who had yet to look away from you until he physically turned her around.

“Hey why don’t we get out of here? It’s hard to have you to myself with everyone interrupting,” Chris suggests with a gentle smile.

“Um yea, sure. Lead the way.”

———

15 or 20 minutes of driving around the city, and you ended up on campus in the more secluded part of the grounds. Then again, with it being Saturday night every part was pretty much secluded now.

The gazebo brightly adorned with bulb fairy lights hanging from the ceiling and around the pillars was a popular spot for graduation and wedding photos, as well as other couples looking for a calmer space without having to go too far. And although a beautiful and romantic scene, Chris desperately wished he could’ve found someplace better to take you.

“You okay?,” he nervously asks settling on the blanket he placed on the wooden floorboards so your clothes wouldn’t pick up any dirt or dust. “If you want to go somewhere else, I can-,”

“No no, this is perfect,” you smile, but not fully convincing Chris from how minimal you talked on the ride over.

“You’re not just sparing my feelings are you?” His suspicious expression and tilted head has you giggling as you take a sip of your water, feeling a bit more relaxed.

“No I just…after seeing your ex I guess I started wondering….”

“About what?”

“…your intentions,” you reveal, more focused on bending your straw back and forth rather than meeting his eyes that were probably peering at you like you were crazy bringing up the ‘what are we?’ conversation so early. “And where you wanted this to go?”

“Well this definitely isn’t a rebound if that’s what you’re thinking,” he answers sipping from his lemonade. Yes, you were thinking that. Had been since you guys started talking in fact. Then with him grabbing your hand at the table in front of Kelly, you didn’t know if the action was sincere or you just being a pawn in the midst of their game of who could make the other more jealous.

“So you think you’re completely moved on from her? And ready to date again?”

“I’ll be honest, when we first met I was still hurt and sulking as you could tell,” he briefly chuckles, “but the more we talked and hung out, I got over it and wanted to move on with someone who made me happy. Someone like you.”

Feeling him slide closer placing his hand on top of yours, your entire body heats up as his stubbled face feels like it’s mere inches from yours.

“So to answer your question, yes I’m ready and if it’s okay with you, I want to see how far this goes.”

Your soft smile as you close the remaining gap connecting your peach flavored lips with his makes him grin against your mouth happily accepting your answer. “I’ll take that as a yes, but if it’s not this is the greatest rejection I’ve ever gotten,” he speaks between pecks and occasional lip bites.

“You’re such a dork.”

His palm cradles the side of your face, thumb carefully gliding against your cheek and noses gently bumping each other not caring if he had to breathe. He just wanted to stay pressed to you.

A bright light shining in his eye, though, momentarily interrupts your intimate moment nearly making him groan out in annoyance how tonight just wasn’t the night for privacy.

“Alright guys I know you’re probably just enjoying your date, but if you’re gonna do that you gotta go back to your roo- oh, hey champ!,” the bulky security guard greets finally turning off his handheld light. “Insane game tonight.”

“Thanks,” Chris sighs partially shielding you as he tried to discreetly wipe around his mouth for any traces of your lip balm.

“Well you two have a nice night, but remember no extra curriculars out in the open if you catch my drift.”

“Got it. Goodnight sir.” He sends the guard off with a small wave before you’re both laughing at the night you’ve had and your forehead falls to his shoulder.

“Next date, I’m taking you out the country.”

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[emberfrostlovesloki]

#4 Reader X SickSpencer

Gif credit: @stunudo​

Prompt: Reader X SickSpencer - Spencer catches a cold and doesn’t come into work on Monday morning. The reader goes to his apartment to check and see if he is doing alright. 

Category: Fluff / Comfort

Content Warning: Language (maybe) 

A/N: After watching the episode where Spencer gets tortured I had an infinite need to write something where he gets comforted by someone. This is pretty domestic and fluffy, but it’s what I needed right now. I want to thank @veraiconcos​ for helping me with the inspiration for this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. Please like / reblog!

Link to all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_y/l/n_ = you’re last name

_h/c_ = hair color

_b/s_ = brother/ sister

_h/l_ = hair length

_f/c_ favorite color

_Y/n_ walked into the headquarters of the BAU with a pep in her step. She had spent most of the weekend hiking the paths of Ricketts Glenn State Park in Pennsylvania. She had taken the train up after she had clocked out of work and spent the rest of the weekend disconnecting from the world. She found the forested paths relaxing compared to her normal job she was bound to. She had asked if Morgan or Prentiss wanted to join her, but both of her teammates already had plans for the weekend.  In total the woman had walked over fifty miles. At noon on Sunday _y/n_ sadly said goodbye to her campsite, and drove herself to the airport. She had arrive at the office before everyone on Monday morning. She hadn’t gotten any work done during her outdoor experience. Because of this she arrived at her desk early in order to make a dent in the pile of paperwork she had left behind on Friday. When she sat down at the white desk _y/n_ noticed that some of the files she was least looking forward to were nowhere to be found. She didn’t think too hard about it for the moment, and just grabbed another file instead. After an hour, the other members of the team started streaming into the bullpen. _Y/n_ noticed that at 8:00 A.M. Morgan, Prentiss, J.J., Hotch and Gideon were all present, except for Dr. Reid. Agent _y/l/n_ looked around the room once more just to make sure that the young man wasn’t actually there, and she was just missing him. Spencer had never been late to work before. He had actually picked her up multiple times when she had texted him in a panic that it was raining and the trains would run late, and she’d probably get fired for being two minutes late. She knew that her fears were unfounded, she also knew that Spencer knew her fear was stupid. None the less he would pull up to her apartment and swing the passenger side door open from the inside. Those had been good rides. When _y/n_ was very sure she had not missed Spencer she walked up to Morgan who was just now walking up to his desk. She leaned against his desk and asked, “Morning, do you know where Reid is? Also, I’m missing some files from my desk, any idea where they may be?” Derek smiled and said, “I can explain both questions sweetness.” _Y/n_ rolled her eye’s at Morgans flattery but still raised her eyebrows, non verbally telling him to continue. Morgan took a seat and continued, “Reid is sick, apparently he caught a cold. About your missing files, your boyfriend stayed late last Friday, last I saw of him he had taken about ten of your case files to his desk, and was filling them out himself.” Before _y/n_ had a chance to process that Derek had called Spencer her boyfriend she replied, “Oh my gosh, is he okay? When did he get sick?” Morgan smiled as she realized what term he had used for her friend. She grabbed one of his case files and started hitting him over the head with it. The athletic agent put his hands over his head and said, “Reid got sick on Saturday. He texted us on Sunday that he had a fever and Hotch told him to stay home.” 

Before _y/n_ could ask more questions, J.J. entered the room and said, “We have a case, let’s head into the conference room to talk over the details.” When the team was assembled, Hotcher stood up and started explaining the case. “We’re looking for an unsub that has killed congressman Luke Allen. The murder took place in the senators office last night at 1:00 A.M. His body was found today by his aid, Gracie Suveua. There was no apparent forced entry. The senators most popular contributions on Capitol Hill have been his working and signing the bill regarding Obergefell vs. Hodges in 2015.” The team nodded and agent _y/l/n_ commented, “So we may be looking for a person that has problems with the implications of gay marriage in the Supreme Court: religious extremists, opposing party members or a person from another radical religions that oppose LGBTQ+ rights.” Gideon agreed and replied, “That’s a great start for a profile. Hotch and Derek, would you head over to the sight of the murder. J.J. would you give Penelope our main facts so far and get her to do a database search based off of those criteria. Prentiss, _y/n_ and I will head over to the police precinct to ask some questions and gather information from the force.” After a minute of gathering in their separate groups, the teams went their separate ways to begin the hard work of the new case. Prentiss and _y/n_ weren’t thrilled to be going to the prescient. The officers were mostly of a male demographic, and often ignored comments that both female agents had made before, and turned out to be true later. Nonetheless, the trio whisked away to the station. When they arrived, the Police chief heartily shook Jason’s hand, but chose not to shake Emily of _y/n’s_. The two agents looked at each other, shrugged and moved into the sleek building after Gideon. It wasn’t until 9: 30 P.M. that the team was back to the conference room debriefing the information that they had accrued during the course of the day. After the debrief was over Aaron said, “I think we will be better use to this case if we all get some sleep and pick this up tomorrow. I don’t think that we aren’t at risk of another victim being killed tonight. If we work hard there won’t be a second death  to follow the first. Get some sleep and I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.” Each member of the team slowly got up, in their fatigue and moved out of the bright room and back toward their desks. When _y/n_ got to her desk she slumped down in her swivel chair. She pulled out her phone and looked at the message she had missed. She ignored a text from her mom and instantly scrolled down to the text that Spencer had sent her. The message read, “I’m still feeling pretty bad. I’m sorry that I can’t be useful in this case.” _y/n_ observed the text, and thought about how Spencer threw himself into his work 110% of the time and maybe it was batter that he had a break from work, even if he had to feel like shit to get to that place. 

Before she could respond to the message that Reid had sent three hours ago Morgan approached _y/l/n_ and asked, “Do you need a ride home? Taking the train right now isn’t exactly safe.”_Y/n_ looked up to him and said, “I think I’ll go check on Reid first. Would you mind taking me to his apartment?” Morgan raised his eyebrows at the statement, and after a moment of silence said, “Sure thing.” The agents moved to the parking lot where Derek’s car sat ready to take off. _Y/n_ had sold her car when she had moved to D.C. to pay the deposit on her crappy apartment. She had always told herself that she would buy a new car when she had the money. Even though she  had been working on the BAU unit for over a year she had never bought a car. She preferred the train anyway. When the agent got onto the car Morgan smoothly moved out of his spot and into the empty road. _Y/n_ pulled out her phone and texted Spencer back saying, “Sorry you’re still feeling bad. I am going to come over and see if you’re doing okay. Be there in about twenty minutes.” When she finished sending the text she put her phone in her pocket and looked out the front window at the empty road. After a minute Derek commented, “You really like him, don’t you?” The male agent had his big brother voice on when he asked the question. _Y/n_ pulled her hand through her _h/c_ before responding, “Derek you know how I feel about him. You don’t have to interrogate me. But it might be helpful if you didn’t call Spencer my boyfriend in front of him. You know how he gets when it comes to affection.” Morgan smiled. He knew that both agents had spent a good amount of time together outside of work. He thought that they made a good couple, but also that they hadn’t said anything about their feelings to each other yet. Morgan respected that they were moving slowly, that really was more their style anyway. Derek replied, “I get you. Plus, I wouldn’t want to jeopardize any chance you might have in letting him tell you that he likes you.” As he finished his statement the duo pulled into the front of Reid apartment building. She looked over to her friend and said, “You know nothing may happen. If it’s just platonic I’d get it. But I do love him.” Derek smiled at the fact that she had actually said the words out loud. He responded, “Go get him tiger.” She rolled her eyes and stepped out of the car. _Y/n_ leaned back in to say, “If I get anything it will probably be a cold from our resident genius,” before closing the door, waving and walking into the apartment. 

When she was in the apartment she took a moment to enjoy the sleek interior of the building. She was always jealous of the coffee shop that the contained. She had to walk three blocks to get to a coffee shop from her apartment. Secretly she was grateful for this fact, because if her apartment had a cafe she knew she would spend all her money there. She was brought back to the moment when the elevator dinged and opened. The agent waited for the occupants of the elevator to get out, and she stepped in once it was empty. She pressed the cool round metal button that read ‘5.’ The moving contraption stopped twice for other residents to get in the metal box before _y/n_ got out on floor five. When she was outside Spencer’s door she realized that she had never checked her messages before just showing up at his room. She pulled out her cellular device, and saw that he had not responded. _Y/l/n_ thought, ‘Maybe he’s asleep? Or maybe he’s feeling really bad and didn’t want me to come?’ The agent panicked for a moment, considering that Spencer might be too ill to respond. After a moment she calmed down and knocked on the door. It took a minute before she heard light shuffling outside the door. She could barely hear her friend say, “Who is it?” _Y/n_ rolled hey eyes at the question; all he had to do was look out his peep hole. After quietly laughing she said, “It’s _y/n_. Can I come in?” The door opened slightly and _y/n_ could see a small sliver of Dr. Reid. She tried to ascertain his sickness level from the shade of his face. Spencer stood for a minute calculating how risky it would be for him to let her in. He said in a raspy voice, “I might get you sick. You know that 3% of American’s have a 64% chance of getting a  cold during the year.” _Y/n_ smiled and replied, “I’m happy you’re still coherent enough to give me statistics Spence, and if I’m going to get a cold I’d rather it be from you, and not some random person on the street. I’m just here to make sure you don’t stay sick for longer than necessary.” Reid reconsidered the odds. How old _y/n_ was, how active she was and her general health. After he finished his assessment the young man opened the door and allowed his friend in. 

When she was in the apartment the female agent set her backpack by the front of the door. Spencer had stepped back in an attempt to lower the rate of transmission. While he was doing this _y/n_ looked him over. He was paler than usual, and his cheeks were flushed red. His hair was limply hanging around his cheeks that were more sunken in than usual. Even in his comfortable looking Yale sweatshirt and grey shorts, the man looked miserable. _Y/n_ looked at him sympathetically and said, “Maybe you should take a seat?” Reid replied, “Do I really look that bad?” She shrugged her shoulders and sighed, but didn’t tell him verbally that he looked like a kid who had fallen into a swimming pool in his clothes by accident. She walked over to the coach and Spencer followed her. He sunk down into the dark fabric of the couch leaning his head against the back. She pulled a chair up while he was seated and asked, “Can I feel your forehead?” When the words were out of her mouth _y/n_ realized how strange it sounded, but Spencer didn’t seem to think it was weird - maybe because he was slightly delirious - or he just knew to expect strange expressions that he didn’t understand come out form her lips. So he replied, “Okay.” _Y/n_ stood up from her chair and knelt on the couch next to Spencer and lifted her hand. She placed it on his forehead. His skin was hot. For the moment that _y/n’s_ hand was on his head Spencer enjoyed it. The cool sensation of her hand was relaxing. He wished it stayed there for a moment longer. The genius realized that the concept was completely illogical because the heat of his fevered body would simply begin transferring to her hand. It only took a second for _y/n_ to realize that Spencer was still running a high temperature, and even though she didn’t need to, she slipped her hand under his chin to check the temperature there too. She assumed she did this because her mom had done it when she was a kid. She pulled her hand away again for the second time and got up. Spencer leaned his head back to look at _y/n_ as his friend moved toward his bathroom. He heard the tap turn on, and after a few seconds, she returned to his side with a small hand towel. She was holding her hand under it so that it didn’t drip water on his wooden floors. “When did you last check your temperature, and how high was it?” _Y/n_ inquired as she placed the damp towel on his hot forehead. Spencer breathed a sigh of relief at the coolness of the cloth. He then responded, “I checked it two hours ago. I think it was around 100.72 degrees. She nodded at the reply and then asked, “Have you eaten yet today?” The young genius was notorious for completely forgetting that he needed to nourish his slender body on a regular basis. So she could only imagine that while he was sick, food was the last thing on his mind. He gave the response she expected of, “No. I’ve felt kind of nauseous all day, I didn’t think eating was going to help with that.” _Y/n_ rolled her eyes and said, “Have you ever considered that not eating could make you nauseous too?” The young woman got up and went into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and only found a carton of eggs and a few containers of leftovers. She turned to Spencer and asked, “Why don’t you have any food Reid?” Spencer gave a cough before defended himself by saying, “I normally go grocery shopping on Sunday, but I was sick, so I didn’t go.” _Y/l/n_ understood and said, “Okay. Well I’m going to run down to the corner store and make you some dinner. Do you have a favorite comfort food?” Spencer stood and took a few steps toward her and said, “You really don’t have to. I can take care of myself.” _Y/n_ replied, “I know you can Spence. I just want to be here to show you you don’t have to all the time. Especially when you’re sick.’ Reid bit his lip as he usually did when he was thinking. After a moment he strode to his counter and grabbed the keys to his apartment, and car, and tossed them at _y/n_. She quickly shifted left and grabbed the object being flung at her. Spencer said, “I really like grilled cheese sandwiches.” She smiled and said, “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Before walking out of his living room and into the hall. She locked the door behind her and moved toward the elevator. 

The corner store was limited in it’s selections. But all that really mattered was that _y/n_ had a loaf of white bread, some American cheese, a kind of pathetic looking can of tomato soup, and some orange juice. With these items in her basket the girl moved to the counter and paid for the groceries with cash from her wallet. It wasn’t until she was at the counter paying that she noticed the time. The Digital clock that was displayed behind the cashier glowed in red letters 10:25 P.M. She knew that if she went back to Spencer and made dinner she was going to miss the last train. To the woman it was just a small thought that quickly came and went. She wasn’t going to leave her friend right now. If he was uncomfortable with her staying at his place overnight _y/n_ would get a taxi back to her apartment. Spencer heard the key slide in the door and knew that _y/n_ had returned. He was currently lying down on the couch and didn’t really move that much as she set down a bag on his counter. There was a moment where some glass clinked together, and a second later she was in front of him with a glass of ice water and a glass of orange juice for him. She set them down on the table next to the couch and he said, “Thanks. I’m feeling a little better now.” _Y/n_ smiled and said, “Good, if you want a distraction while I’m making the food you can look over the new case. We’ve been working on it all day and haven’t gotten very far. The files in my bag.” Spencer jolted at the chance of doing something other than feeling miserable, and he got up and found the file in _y/n’s_ backpack. As he walked back toward the couch he noticed that _y/n_ had bought herself a coffee from the shop in the lobby. She shared his taste for sugar filled beverages. Unlike him, she preferred milk in her caffeinated drinks. Spencer grabbed the warm polystyrene cup and took a sip of it while she was digging in his fridge for some butter. Spencer often stole _y/n’s_ snacks or drinks. It was the type of thing that would make her  angry for a second and then she would laugh it off for five more. He would always buy her a replacement item, often he would make it a bigger cup of coffee or bar of chocolate than the one she had before. Spencer knew that the young agent was trying to save up money so she could fly down to her _b/s’s_ college graduation in a month. It was the least he could do. After all living in D.C. could be hard on the bank account. 

It wasn’t until the soup was on the stove heating up, and the grilled cheese sandwiches were in the pan getting melty that _y/n_ started looking around for her coffee cup. After a minute of futile searching she spotted it in Spencer’s hand. She smirked, moving to the back of the couch, she pretended to look over Reid’s shoulder at the information he was examining. When the man removed the cup from his lips and lowered it toward his leg she grabbed it out of his grasp and said, “Really Reid. This is how you repay me for my help.” Halfway through the sentence and she was already laughing at his antics. She glided to a position in front of him and started bringing the drink to her own mouth when she remembered Spencer was sick. She examined the lid of the cup, and obviously some of his saliva was on the rim of the cup. Reid looked up at her and said, “Sorry I also haven’t had any coffee yet today either.” _Y/n_ sighed and handed him back the cup replying, “You know, I fear that if you asked me to murder someone I would consider it.” Spence smiled up at her.  After another five minutes or so the pair were eating a very late dinner at the kitchen table. They were talking about the details of the case. As soon as they had finished eating Spencer asked, “Are you planning on going back to your apartment tonight? The train stopped running a half hour ago.” A blush rose to _y/n’s_ cheeks and replied, “Well. I was wondering if I could just stay here tonight? I need to look through the details of the case again, and do some research. I’ll be quiet.” It wasn’t a super odd request. The pair had stayed up all night before working on cases or having movie marathons, but they had never been at one of their apartments when one, or both of them was going to be sleeping. Spencer looked over to her and said, “Of course you can. I can help you with the research if you want.” _Y/n_ smiled and said, “Thanks for letting me stay. And offering the help, but I think you should get some rest. You aren’t going to get better without sleep.” She smiled at him and began picking up the dishes from their dinner. Spencer helped her put them in the sink and said, “I promise next time it’s my turn to cook. I’ll finish the dishes if you want to take a shower before I turn in.” _Y/n_ considered that she had been in the same clothes for over ten hours and knew that a shower would relax her she said, “that would be great.” She was embarrassed to ask it, but managed to stutter out, “Do you think I could borrow one of your shirts to wear while  I work. These aren’t the most comfortable clothes.” Spencer opened his mouth for a moment at the idea and tried to clear his head of the image of her in one of his shirts. The man snapped his mouth shut and his jawline tightened before he responded, “Um, yeah. In my closet on the left hand side are all my t-shirts and sweaters. You can wear any of them.” She said, “Okay. I’ll just be a bit.” She rubbed her hand over his shoulder as she walked in the direction of his bedroom. After a minute Spencer could hear the water running. 

The lean agent scrubbed down the dishes and put them in the drainer next to the sink. When he finished with the plates and bowls, he sat back down on the couch with the intention of looking at the case again. His thoughts didn’t allow him to. Instead he was considering how he was feeling. He wondered if it was alright to want these kinds of evenings to happen more often. He knew that he wasn’t that good with women. His few attempts to woe the friends and strangers he had been interesting in had usually gone horribly wrong. Yet, unbelievably a friend had come to check up on him, and was comfortable enough to spend the night at his place. He couldn’t figure out if he had done anything differently with _y/n_ than his other friends. He also was unsure if she felt the same way he did. Maybe she was uncomfortable being here and just needed to stay out of convenience. While Reid was considering the current situation _y/n_ was doing the same. She was running shampoo through her _h/l_ hair and musing over what had happened over the last two hours. She had always wanted, hoped, to get closer to Spencer, but she was afraid that if she moved too fast that he wouldn’t be interested, or worse not want to hang around her at all. She and Spencer did share some of the same hobbies but she hoped that she knew him better than that. She knew how he shied away from physical affection, and how he always seemed so happy when she or Jason told him he had done a good job, and how she knew what his shampoo was going to smell like before she even opened the bottle. She really hoped that her presence, both literally and metaphorically wasn’t making him uncomfortable now. When she was finished with her reverie _y/n_ rinsed out her hair and stepped out of the shower, After another ten minutes Spencer looked up to see _y/n_ in another one of his YALE sweatshirt. It was so long on her shorter body that it covered her like an ill fitting dress. However, Spencer thought she could wear a potato sack and pull it off. He quickly looked away from her to hide his blush. 

The duo looked over the cases and _y/n_ hooked up to his WiFi on her computer. After this was finished and _y/n_ had bought herself another coffee (using Reid’s card), she recommended he go to bed. It was already 12:00 A.M. at this point. Spencer relented and headed to his bedroom. Before he went in he said, “Goodnight. If you’ve got any questions you can ask. Just knock on the door.” She smiled and said goodnight back, and told him to sleep well. The agent continued her work for another three hours before she moved to the couch to try and get more comfortable to do her work. The next morning Spencer found _y/n_ laying down on the couch she was clutching a pillow to her chest and had her left leg draped over the blanket she had covered her body with. Spencer dared not walk past her torso in case she was indecent below the leg she had over the blanket. He was feeling much better today, and wished that he could go into work with her, however, it was company policy to wait a full twenty-four hours after a fever to return to work. Spencer knew it was for the safety of his coworkers, but he hated being away from his job. The man knelt down and tapped _y/n_ on the shoulder. She sighed slightly before opening her eyes to see him. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. Spencer quickly averted her eyes as she rose. She looked down at herself and realized that her _f/c_ boy shorts were peeking out from beneath Spencer’s YALE sweater. Her face turned red and she coughed, stood up and pulled the sweater down. She looked at her phone and quietly cursed, “Fuck, I’m going to be late.” Spencer knew that if _y/n_ was fast, and hurried she could catch the train and make it in time. He said, “Go change. If you’re fast you can make the 7:30 A.M. train.” _Y/n_ nodded and grabbed her clothes and ran into his bedroom. She shut the door and didn’t even bother to lock it as she stripped and quickly changed. Reid, who had woken up about thirty minutes before her, and had grabbed some coffee for her and himself. He had meant to wake her up once he had woken up, but he couldn’t disturb her when he had seen her so peaceful. When the woman came out of his room in her usual black pants and satin shirt, she looked ready to fight the crime in the city as she usually did. She put on her shoes and grabbed her things, stuffing them into her backpack. Spencer cleared his throat after she was finished and handed her the coffee. She smiled at him and said, “Thank you so much Spencer, for letting me stay, and the coffee.” Spencer smiled and hesitantly asked, “Would you come back again tonight? In case I need help again. Or feel bad?” It took a moment for the words to register and _y/n_ said “Huh?” And maybe it was because it was from lack of sleep, or her just being awake for five minutes, but the meaning of the words struck her after she had responded. She realized that Spencer wanted, that he really wanted to spend another night like they had had yesterday. She smiled up at him and replied, “Of course I’ll come back tonight Spence. I’d love that.” The word love was not lost on the genius, and he took a minute trying to and express his feeling, saying, “You know I really like you. I mean I appreciate you, or I feel things about you…” _Y/n_ wanted really really badly to hear the words come from him, but she knew that she didn’t have a moment to lose or she would be late. She hated cutting him off, but reluctantly said, “I know Spencer, me too.” 

At hearing this Spencer gave a heartwarming smile and leaned down to hug her. She quickly gave him a kiss on the forehead and cheek. She then let go of him, and ran out the door, shouting over her shoulder, “I’ll see you tonight!”

[grapesodatozier]

a million little times

pairing: wheelclair

summary: lucas joins the football team and makes some new friends. it takes a bit for mike to realize why this makes him so upset

words: 3,575

rating: teen and up

tags: jealousy, modern high school au, underage drinking, pining, angst with a happy ending, title from illicit affairs by taylor swift

read on ao3 or below!

Mike was happy for Lucas, he really was. He was confused, sure, but he was happy for him. If Lucas really did want to play football, then that was great for him, and Mike was glad he was doing things that made him happy. He just would’ve been happier about it if football wasn’t such a fucking cult.

Lucas had practice three or four days a week and games once or twice a week, which meant that the time he had with the party was cut severely. Sure, they could hang out after dinner, and during lunch, and on the weekends, but it was still a lot to adjust to. Mike missed riding home with Lucas, he missed that little stretch of the ride when it was just the two of them. Sure, Mike had the car now that Nancy was away at college, so he wasn’t riding home anyway, but he had been excited about giving Lucas rides home, about taking the long way and getting slushies if they were feeling like it. But now he couldn’t, because Lucas didn’t get home until just around dinner time. And one of his football friends drove him home. Mike knew because he could see him getting dropped off from his window, he could see Lucas smiling at whoever was in the driver’s seat, his huge bag of equipment slung over his shoulder. It made Mike’s chest ache. 

It was even worse when he had to see him hanging out with them in school. Lucas still hung around Mike’s locker with the rest of the party most days, but now sometimes Mike would look around for him and find him down the hall surrounded by a group of people that was obnoxiously large for the small hallways of their school. 

It started making Mike angry when Lucas skipped out on lunch with them one day. He hadn’t even said anything, he was just suddenly not at their table, and Mike could see him across the room, hamming it up with this group of jock assholes. He even got one of those pretentious varsity jackets. Mike was only snapped out of his head because he was so tense about the whole thing he ended up biting his tongue so hard it nearly bled. It didn’t help that Dustin, Max, El, and Will were all joking about how Lucas was popular now, how he’d rigged the social ladder. Like this was funny. Like it was all some big joke that Lucas wasn’t sitting with them. 

If Mike was a bit short with Lucas later that day in chemistry, Lucas didn’t say anything about it.

The only thing that made Mike warm up to the idea was watching Lucas’s games. He loved watching him, loved that proud smile he got on his face. Pride welled in Mike’s chest when Lucas made a play, even if something more bitter stirred in his stomach when his teammates jumped on him to congratulate him. 

By October, Mike was still adjusting to Lucas’s new status. He was just getting the hang of it, seeing Lucas on the weekends and going to his games on Fridays, having lunch with him three days a week instead of five, accepting that he had to share him, when Lucas flipped his world upside down again.

“A party?” Mike asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism. 

“Yes, a party,” Lucas grinned. “You’re familiar with the concept?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “In theory.”

“We’re invited to a party?” Dustin cut in. Mike was secretly pleased that Dustin seemed to be as disbelieving as he was.

“Yeah, Mark’s parents are out of town so he told me to invite as many people as I want.”

“I’ll go if there’s vodka, but I’m not drinking beer,” Will said, making a face. 

Lucas laughed. “Trust me, there will be vodka.” He said it so confidently, like he’d been to so many parties. It made Mike wonder how many he had been to. He thought it was only two. Not that he’d been counting.

“I’ll go if El comes,” Max said, giving El an expectant and mischievous look.

Come on, El, Mike willed her silently. El wasn’t a party type. El was a sit quietly and watch romance movies with ice cream on a Saturday night type. She liked small get-togethers. She would say no, and then Max would say no, and then Mike could spend Saturday night with them.

“Why not,” El shrugged with a small smile.

Traitor, Mike thought to himself bitterly.

“Mike, you in?” Lucas asked. His hand on Mike’s shoulder made his heart race.

Mike sighed. “I guess you guys are gonna need a DD.”

The rest of them cheered as Mike crossed his arms. He really wasn’t looking forward to a house full of football bros sweating beer, but at least he would be with his friends, at least he could make sure they all got home safe. And if he was driving, he’d be dropping Lucas off last; he was looking forward to that.

Still, being the sober one sucked. His friends were all light weights, and they were all trashed within the first hour. Mike was awkward enough as it was; being the only sober one in a room full of people who didn’t even bother to glance his way made that awkwardness weigh on him all that much more. Lucas noticed, and he tried to get Mike to play pong with him, but Mike was horrendously bad, and the other team obliterated them. It made Mike’s cheeks burn with shame, and he left to subject himself to Dustin and Max’s drunk dancing. At least letting them push him around to Britney Spears while El and Will laughed and twirled each other around much more tamely made him feel a little better.

But then the night took a sharp turn south. 

There Mike was, trying not to topple over as his shorter friends jumped around him, when he looked up to search for Lucas. Maybe he would help Mike escape. But as soon as Mike found him, it became crystal clear that running to Lucas was not an option. Because he was busy making out with one of the guys on the cheerleading team.

Mike’s head spun. He hadn’t even known Lucas liked guys, not really. Sure, he’d mentioned something in passing once that made Mike’s ears perk up, but he’d never mentioned it again, never explicitly, and Mike wasn’t gonna push it. But this… this was not how Mike wanted to find out. And he also never needed to know that Lucas’s type was apparently cheerleaders. Fuck, he liked graceful, flexible, fit, cool people. Of course he fucking did. Who didn’t? 

Mike made up an excuse about finding a bathroom and broke away from his friends, rushing to a door, any door that would take him outside. The air inside was too stale; he needed something fresh, he needed to catch his breath and not vomit and maybe cry. Why did he need to cry? He didn’t. He was just… upset that Lucas didn’t tell him. Yeah. 

His legs carried him away from the party, the music getting quieter and quieter until he was down the street and couldn’t hear it anymore. He knew he shouldn’t go far, his friends needed him to drive them home, but there was an elementary school just a block away, and he really needed a place to sit that wasn’t on some random family’s lawn. He barely registered the world around him as sidewalk became soccer field, as the streetlights gave way to a night much darker. For whatever reason, he made a beeline for those seats that spin around. Probably a horribly dangerous thing to give children. An even worse thing to give drunk people; Mike was glad no one at the party had seemed to have the same idea as him yet. He collapsed onto the too-small seat and let his toes drag through the woodchips, holding on tight to the sides as he rocked slowly back and forth. He’d have to go back soon. But he couldn’t just then. In that moment, he just needed to sit his ass down on an elementary school playground and look at the stars while slowly spinning around. He needed to keep himself from driving home and leaving all his friends without a ride. God, he just wanted to fucking go home. 

Dustin ended up drunk calling him a few minutes later, and Mike had to make up some excuse about the line for the bathroom being too long and needing to pee in a bush. He took a deep breath before standing up, the night air helping to calm his racing heart. But his feet were unsteady as he stood and began walking back, and he had a feeling that a few deep breaths weren’t really gonna fix this problem. 

The way El and Dustin hugged him when he returned made him feel a little better, and at least Lucas had returned to the group, apparently done sucking face with that cheerleader guy. Still though, Mike couldn’t look at him without feeling sick. 

“There you are!” Lucas beamed. As if he had been looking for him.

Mike busied himself with gently shrugging El and Dustin off so he could go to Will, who was swaying on his feet, a far off look in his eyes. Mike put an arm around his shoulders, and he immediately leaned into Mike’s side. Will gave him an unfocused smile. “You okay?” Mike asked. When Will nodded he continued, “You ready to go home?” Will nodded again, and Mike looked up to consult the group. “Everyone ready to go?” Max gave an indignant whine, but El and Dustin nodded, and Lucas slung his arm around Max’s shoulders and steered her toward the door. Mike followed, helping Will down the stairs and into the car. If he was being honest he probably didn’t need to, but he needed to feel needed just then. 

He did the rounds, made sure everyone got in safe with reminders to not sleep on their backs, until it was just him and Lucas, drawing patterns on the passenger side window. “So?” Lucas asked with a grin.

“What?” Mike bristled.

“Did you have fun?”

Mike’s stomach turned. “Seemed like you did.”

Lucas gave him a look. “Yeah.”

Mike really tried to bite it back, but he had to know. “Who even was that guy?”

Lucas smirked. “You mean Andy?”

“If Andy is the cheerleader you were making out with, then yeah. Are you like… are you into him?”

Lucas shrugged. “He’s cute. He was a pretty okay kisser.” God, as if Lucas was kissing all these people Mike didn’t even know. Fuck, was he? “Where did you run off to?”

“I had to pee,” Mike murmured. Lucas gave a small laugh and teased him, poking him until he was swatting him away, a reluctant smile fighting its way onto his face. 

“I’m sorry you were sober, man,” Lucas said, settling back down. “We’ll get you trashed next time.”

“Yeah, sounds fun,” Mike said. He really tried to make it convincing, but he wasn’t sure it worked. 

They were pulling up to Lucas’s house now, but it wasn’t at all the scene Mike had pictured the day before. He didn’t want Lucas to linger right now. He really just wanted to be in bed. Luckily, Lucas got out pretty quickly, shooting Mike a slightly slurred thank you for driving before closing the door, leaving Mike to himself.

It ate at Mike for days, and he was pretty sure it showed, but he didn’t care. Max asked him about, but she always knew when there was something bothering him. She could tell because he acted the same way she acted when she was upset. But he brushed her off, probably a little more harshly than necessary, and she dropped it. El bought him a cookie at lunch and rested her head on his shoulder, but didn’t say anything, which Mike was grateful for. 

He appreciated it, he really did, but none of it helped. He couldn’t get the image of Lucas’s hands on that guy’s waist out of his mind. Looking at Lucas, knowing Lucas wasn’t looking back at him and seeing in Mike what Mike saw in him, was almost unbearable. So he didn’t.

The final breaking point came that Friday. They were all gathered around Will’s locker, discussing their weekend plans, when Lucas casually dropped that he wouldn’t be able to come to the arcade with them that weekend.

“What?” Mike blurted, unable to stop himself. He hated that he could hear the way his voice broke, that it was probably obvious to everyone around him.

Lucas was clearly taken aback, but his skeptical expression softened as he said, “I’m sorry, man, but the guys are going to this Halloween fest thing and it’s kind of an all day thing, I won’t be back until late.”

Mike’s blood was boiling. His throat was closing up. He hadn’t looked at Lucas more than a handful of times that week, but now he couldn’t look away. “But… but you said…” Mike’s voice broke again. He didn’t know where that sentence was going. He said what? He never said anything. They had never had to say anything before, it was an unspoken agreement that Saturday was arcade day with the party. 

“Mike, we always go to the arcade on Saturday.” Lucas had a sympathetic look on his face that just made Mike angrier.

“Exactly! We always go to the arcade on Saturday!” He was getting hysterical now, he knew it, but he was helpless to it.

“I’ll be there next Saturday,” Lucas tried.

“Will you?”

Mike turned and broke out of the group, striding down the hallway. He was done with this conversation. He was done with Lucas bailing on them. If he wanted to replace them so bad he could just do it, he didn’t have to draw it out like some kind of fucking sadist. His cheeks burned as he heard Lucas call after him, then Dustin’s quiet, “Let him go, man.” Mike wasn’t sure if he was happy or furious or heartbroken that none of them followed him. The solitude of his car helped him breathe a little easier, but he probably shouldn’t have been driving, because his heart was racing and there were tears forming behind his eyes and he had that urge to throw and punch and kick things that he got whenever he was hurting. 

He got to his house in one piece and ignored his mom when she asked him why he was home on a Friday afternoon. He slammed his door shut and threw himself down on his bed. 

And that’s where he was Saturday morning, lying in his bed kicking absently up at the top bunk. That’s what he was doing when he heard a knock on the door. “I’m not hungry,” he called. He heaved an exasperated sigh when the door opened anyway. “Mom, I don’t—”

“Not your mom.” Mike sat up, his heart in his throat. Lucas was standing in the doorway, was stepping in and closing the door behind him. And he had a fucking smile on his face. “At least, according to Maury.”

“Funny,” Mike said blandly as he sat up. “What do you want? Aren’t you supposed to be on a hayride with the guys right now?” He didn’t wanna sneer at him, but he’d never had much control over things like that. 

Lucas shrugged and leaned against Mike’s dresser, his arms crossed. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Mike froze. “About what?”

“About what?” Lucas scoffed. “About that way you threw a tantrum yesterday. About the fact that you’ve barely spoken to me since the party on Saturday.” 

Mike shook his head. God, that fucking party. “You didn’t wanna talk to me when you had your tongue down that guy’s throat.” 

A moment of tense silence passed between them, Mike’s bitter tone hanging in the air. “Is that why you’re mad? Because I made out with a guy?” The hurt in Lucas’s voice made all of Mike’s anger disappear in an instant.

“What? No! Of course not, you think I’d be mad about that?”

“Well then what’s your issue? What did I do wrong?” His voice was rising now, and that only made Mike feel more panicked. His room felt too small. How was he supposed to explain?

“I miss you.” Mike had wanted to scream it, but it came out sounding just as small and vulnerable as he was feeling.

Lucas’s face fell, his eyes scanning over Mike’s, trying to decipher what he was saying. “I’m right here, man. I’m not ditching you. I’ve got some new friends now, that doesn’t mean I don’t want you around. Nothing has to change.”

“But everything already has changed!” Mike broke. He couldn’t help the tears that were gathering in his eyes now. “I used to know… We used to… You know so many people I don’t now, and they’re cool, and I used to know everything about you and now you’re kissing guys, you’re kissing guys who are hot and cool like you. You’re my best friend, and I was yours but now you’re gonna outgrow me and you’ll never… I never… and now I can’t…” Mike was crying hard now, so hard he didn’t realize Lucas was kneeling in front of him until he felt Lucas’s hands on his forearms, gently pulling his hands away from his face so that he could wipe Mike’s tears away. Mike hiccuped and blinked as Lucas came somewhat into focus in front of him.

“Mike… you’ll always be my best friend. Yeah, some things are changing, but that’s not.”

Lucas’s soft tone helped, but they were just words. And besides, there was something else Mike wanted, something that was getting farther and farther from him, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He felt like he was stuck on one of those conveyor belts in the airport but it was going the wrong direction, and he didn’t know how to get off or go back. His heart was racing, and he was gonna start crying again, panicked. Panicked about Lucas kissing someone else, about him wanting other people. How could Mike make him understand? He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t, but if it was his last chance, if it was the only way to make Lucas understand—

So then his hands were on Lucas’s face, and he was bringing their lips together with all of the hurry and panic and adrenaline he was feeling. He reeled back just as fast, slamming himself against the wall behind him, looking at Lucas’s surprised face in horror. “Oh god, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Mike,” Lucas said firmly, his hands finding Mike’s wrists again. He pulled Mike gently back toward him and cupped his face.

“Yeah?” Mike’s voice was small and watery, shaking like his hands had been until Lucas steadied them, his hands strong and gentle at the same time.

Lucas smiled then. Something like wonder was passing through his eyes, slowly, as he met Mike’s eyes. “I… I liked—yeah, will you do that again?”

Mike eyebrows shot up behind his fringe. “Seriously?”

“Yeah” Lucas nodded, sweet and awkward smile on his face. And wow, Mike never thought he’d see the day he made Lucas flustered. But he got through his shock and leaned forward, tentatively this time, and brought their lips back together.

And wow. It was perfect. It was soft and unsure at first, and Mike’s eyes were open as he watched Lucas’s reaction. But once Lucas started kissing him back Mike let his eyes flutter shut, let himself sink into it. He let himself focus only on the way Lucas was kissing him, the way his hands felt cradling Mike’s face. He ran his hands lightly over Lucas’s arms, admiring the muscles that lay under the soft fabric of his shirt. Once they both got the hang of it, their lips began to lock together, the kiss deepening. Mike twisted Lucas’s shirt between his fingers. Eventually Lucas pulled away, and Mike took a moment before opening his eyes, his lips still parted, seeking more. 

“Wow… I did not know you felt the same way,” Lucas said, smiling and flushed.

Mike shook his head, a disbelieving smile on his lips. “I think I always have.”

They both laughed and kissed each other again, just a few soft pecks, still getting used to it.

“So…” Lucas said with a teasing smirk, running his hand over Mike’s chest, “what was that you were saying about me being hot and cool?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mike groaned, his cheeks on fire as he slung his pillow at Lucas. God, he missed this, the sight of Lucas laughing on his bedroom floor. He was looking forward to even more mornings like this, and afternoons, and nights. 

Max had a field day on Monday when Mike came into school practically drowning in Lucas’s varsity jacket, but Mike didn’t even mind. He never thought he’d be dating a football player, but as Lucas wrapped his arms around him, strong and sure, the smell of his laundry detergent sticking to the jacket all day as Mike went from class to class, he figured maybe sometimes change could be nice.

taglist: (sorry i only remember this half the time lmao) @clouded-eyes-and-salty-tears @eddieeatsass @deadlighturis @constantreaderfool @reddieloserz @jessicaheartsderry @vegetarian-avocado @tinyarmedtrex @sml1104 @thelazyeye  @montconde @fizzylemones @lexinatorwrites 

[nekomassetters]

Twenty

"Is that the last one?" you ask Nakamura groggily as you load up your teammates' bags onto the bus.

"Yep!"

Now that it's Monday morning, you've met up with the rest of your team to drive to Fukurodani for the week-long camp.

"Soooo," Nakamura starts in to change the conversation.

You can already feel that Nakamura is going to begin a conversation that you aren't interested in, so you try to tell her to talk to somebody else.

"I-I wasn't going to bother you about Kai!" she blurts out.

"What the hell, Nakamura? It's literally six in the morning what do you need to ask me."

Your face turns into a tired frown as you wait for Nakamura to finally spill what she was going to say. Instead, your teammate decides to put on the same frown as you and bark back.

"There's no need to be so grumpy!" she quips, "I was just gonna ask you if that short guy from the boys' team is going."

"You mean Yaku, right?" you groan as you roll your eyes, "why wouldn't he be?"

Knowing that Yaku has at least some feelings for Nakamura, you can't help but think about Lev and the possible feelings he has for Yaku as well.

"Mhm, Yaku," your teammate replies dreamily as she ignores the rest of your statement.

You see her cheeks turn a light pink. Taking this as a cue to leave before she bothers you more about Yaku in a conversation you aren't ready for, you pass her and board the bus.

On the bus, you walk past your teammates to find a seat. Without a heads-up, somebody grabs onto your arm and pulls you to sit beside them. Once you're seated you see Ritsuko's devilish smile staring into your soul.

You look away from her towards your other side and watch Nakamura sit beside Mito.

"Are you okay, 'Mura?" Mito asks worriedly as the lovestruck girl takes her seat.

"Mhm," she says as she gathers some courage, "I'm finally going to talk to him today!"

"Him who!" Ritsuko beams as she leans over you to join the conversation.

Like she doesn't already know...

For the majority of the bus ride, you're stuck in yet another conversation about your friends' love lives. Well, except for Mito since she tries to stay silent. Noticing this, you decide to finally ask her about last Saturday.

"Hey, Mito? That other Saturday at the party we went to, you never told us where you went..."

"Yeah that's true, Mito!" Ritsuko chimes in, "I barely saw you that night."

"Oh don't worry," Mito replies anxiously, "I-I was just around s-somewhere..."

Mito immediately changes the conversation. You, being the great friend that you are, decide to let it be for now. You figure that you will find out eventually so it's not a big concern to you. Nakamura and Yaku, on the other hand, have more interesting matters.

📷

The second you get off the bus and grab your belongings, you get ushered straight into the girls' gym. You're introduced to the team and immediately get excited when you meet their setter.

"Hey!" you wave to the setter once the formalities are over.

"Oh hi," Fukurodani's setter replies shyly, "I'm Miyamoto Taka but you can just call me Taka if you want..."

"Nice to meetcha," you reply with a smile, "I'm L/N, Y/N but Y/N is fine!"

Taka tells you that she's the only setter on her team as well so she's glad she can finally work with someone else who has the same position. Right away, you and Taka instantly become friends.

At lunch, you walk outside with Taka to eat when you get bombarded by Ritsuko and the other girls' captain from Fukurodani.

"Hey Y/N! Looks like you found another setter to talk to," Ritsuko smirks, "have you met the boys' setter? He's so hot!"

You look over at Taka after hearing a small gasp escape from her mouth at the mention of the boys' setter. When you turn to her, you see her face bright red as she stares at Ritsuko.

"Come on!" Ritsuko exclaims as she pulls you away from your friend.

You wave to Taka and let her know that you'll see her later. She quietly nods as the blush on her face attempts to disappear.

"Y/N this is Akaashi!" your captain says as she introduces you to the boys' setter.

As you turn your gaze to the male, your eyes are instantly blessed with a tall figure accompanied by messy black hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Although he wears somewhat of a stoic expression, he attempts to give you a smile.

You introduce yourself to him as you try your best not to stare too long at his handsome face. Luckily, Ritsuko interrupts you before you start to make a fool of yourself.

"You two go grab some food and sit down okay?" she tells the two of you as she pushes both your and Akaashi's back towards the food.

Once the two of you sit down, you apologize to him for your captain. He says it's alright and that he's used to it because his captain is annoying too.

"Bokuto, right?" you laugh as you remember his voice from the other day.

Akaashi nods and you begin the start of another new friendship. The two of you bond over volleyball, food, and even your interests for awhile while you eat.

Eventually, the previously mentioned male from the Fukurodani team joins you sits beside Akaashi. Slinging his arm around his teammate, he faces you and smiles excitedly.

"No fair Kaashi I've been looking for you this whole time and you've just been sitting here with this cute girl?"

"Sorry," you grin back, "I didn't mean to steal him. I'm Y/N by the way."

"What?! That makes it worse! You knew I wanted to meet her but you didn't tell me!" he says to his friend.

"You know we're going to be here for a week right? It's not like you were never going to see her," Akaashi calmly replies.

Bokuto mutters under his breath and says he's going to get some more food to make him feel better. Once he's gone Akaashi takes a sigh of relief.

"I can definitely see how he's friends with Kuroo. He's a pain in the ass, too."

Akaashi lets out a small chuckle before agreeing. For awhile longer, the two of you sit in peace until Bokuto comes back, bringing Kuroo along with him.

"Hey there Y/N," Kuroo says smugly as he sits beside you, "ya know I bet Kenma's missing you."

You give Kuroo a look that was meant to kill but before you could respond, Bokuto chimes in.

"Akaashi I feel neglected," he says sadly to his teammate, "why did you disappear on us?"

As Akaashi tries to explain that Ritsuko wanted to introduce you to him, Kuroo begins talking to you once more. This time his voice is quieter so as to not catch the attention of the others.

"So you're gonna let Akaashi steal you away from Kenma, huh?" he teases.

"Shut up Kuroo, you know it isn't like that."

"Right then explain why Kenma looks like he's about to kill someone?"

At that moment you hear a loud slam from another table nearby. The four of you look over to see Kenma's bright red face stare down at Fukunaga who's across from him looking like he's scared shitless.

"Don't fucking put words in my mouth!" is what you hear Nekoma's male setter yell before walking out of the room.

"See what I mean?"

📷

After a much-needed shower, you go back to your room ready to get some sleep. As you crawl under your covers, the lights turn on, piercing your eyes. Groans from others doing the same as you erupt as everyone looks to see who caused the commotion.

"I've gotta tell you guys somethinggg" Ritsuko's voice rings across the room.

You watch from the safety of your futon as Ritsuko pulls something out from behind her. You see the unmistakable shape of a tequila bottle and internally facepalm. Deciding to stay out of the situation, you roll over to pretend you're asleep.

"Y/NNN," you hear Nakamura's voice call not long after as she tries to shake you awake, "wake up!"

[motleycrueroadie]

Along for the Ride (pt. 6)

Author’s Note: It has been a while, so thank you to anyone who is returning to this story! I will apologize for the delay, going back to work has been hectic. With everything going on right now, if reading this and consuming this kind of content helps you to take a break then I’m very glad to provide that. Enjoy xoxo. 

Previous Chapters: One I Two I Three I Four I Five I

A lot of time has passed since I’ve been to a party, let alone a party with a horde of strangers. The last time that I was ,what might be defined as, “partying” was during high school. Even though varsity sports were a large commitment, there were always athletes who made it part of their weekly routine to get as hammered as they possibly could on Friday and Saturday night. The football players were the main ones to spend copious hours belligerent, and they turned to the other fall athletic teams to join them. A lot of my teammates were skinny little things who were borderline obliterated within two cups of foamy, cheap keg beer but no other sport could beat them and myself at the beer mile. The athletes were pretty much the only people I partied with because they were the only people I was seeing throughout the year. Yet here I am four years later, having not attended a party since graduation and I was set to attend some random stranger’s party to scope out Tommy’s suggested lead singer. 

When Tommy had suggested Vince at dinner last week he went on to explain that he knew him from high school and not from Suite 19 or any other band he played for - which to me was a good starting sign considering that Greg hadn’t worked out. I had not realised I was Tommy’s senior by four years up until he was talking about him and Vince’s high school days.  Tommy admitting his age to me really had put things into perspective for myself.

 Four years have passed since I graduated and I still had yet to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Upon finishing high school, all I knew with regards to my future was that I needed to be on my own and find myself. To begin, finding out who I was meant that I needed to start from my roots and make my way up. Despite not being completely fit parents,  my mother and father were incredibly passionate people. Before the haze of drugs and partying had blinded them, my parents were both madly in love with one another and with music. None of their life was mapped out and planned tediously, otherwise I wouldn’t have been in the picture. When they were seventeen and seniors in high school, my mom found out she was pregnant with me. Even though this put a delay in their goal to travel with the music, it never stopped them. We lived in a 1959 Volkswagen Van and put thousands of miles on it as we traveled from venue to venue following the voices of the 60′s. Of course, we settled down come the fall when the summer tours and festivals died down and I needed to go to school. We would live right here on the Sunset Strip in a shitty little one bedroom apartment. I slept with my parents on a mattress on the floor. During the week I would attend school and they would work at whatever odd job they had found, then come the weekend they would put me to bed and head out for the shows. After their death, I moved in with my grandparents a few hours north of Los Angeles for 7 years until I turned 18. That’s when I set out to find myself. Funny thing is, it’s almost been four years out here and I’m no closer to finding out who I am than the day I left home. 

“You’re not that much older than me Janis,” Tommy had said while we were talking about my age, “Mick, when did you graduate high school?” This was another of his attempts to figure out Mick’s age. 

“Before your balls even dropped.” Mick was quick to shut Tommy down every time. I smiled at Mick and held out my hand for a fist bump, which to my surprise Mick had returned. Mick was older than the rest of us, but none of us were sure by how much. Even though Mick fronted a bit of a tough exterior, he liked to joke around and have fun like us - He just wasn’t as young as us anymore, it was a different kind of fun. 

That night, after the guys had gone back to practicing, I went back to my usual nightly routine. Being that it was Sunday, I didn’t have to go in for work but it also meant that I had to keep my regular sleep schedule since I was due for another 11-7 shift the next day. That left me from the time I woke up at 3:30 pm until 7:00 am to pass the time. This meant that I would have a smoothie and go for a run, come back for a shower and more food and the rest of the time I spent cleaning every nook and cranny in the apartment and reading. Days off though, was time for grocery shopping. There was only one supermarket in the nearby area that was open 24 hours and I was one of the only people who tended to do their shopping at midnight. However, on this night I had company. Nikki came along with me despite the fact that he had work in the morning. It wasn’t until the walk home that I learned the true motive behind the company on the trip. He wanted me to come with them to this party to scout out Vince. At first I was confused. 

“Why do you want me to come? It’s your band.” He nodded in agreement, acknowledging that it seemed like an odd request. 

“You’ve kind of been along for most of this, so even though it’s not your band I feel it’s only right you come along for the ride.” My continued confusion must have read on my face because he spoke again, “I met Tommy at your diner and you called Mick when I wouldn’t.” 

“You would’ve eventually called him yourself, and I’m sure you would’ve met Tommy after your show anyways.” He shook his head at me while we continued walking. 

“Janis, I was only in that diner because I was there to see you. Tommy was there by coincidence. I wouldn’t have called Mick either. I would have just let myself be happy I had Greg and went along with it until we became another Suite 19 or London.” I had opened my mouth to reply to him and he cut me off, “I’m trying to say you’ve helped me form this band whether you believe it or not, and I want you there when we’re looking at what could be our lead singer.”

“Then I’ll be there to make sure you get your skinny blonde fucker.” He laughed with me and we continued in comfortable silence back to our apartments. That was almost six days ago, today I stood in the living room of Nikki’s apartment at 4:30 on a Friday waiting for Mick to come so that we could all go to this party. Up until now, I hadn’t really seen Nikki’s apartment, but now that I was in it I realised why. The fact that there were roaches infesting this building was not beyond my knowledge, however I managed to keep them at bay by keeping my apartment clean and the food sealed. The garbage left out by Nikki and the mess all over the place was a haven for all sorts of bugs, evident by the ants and roaches freely roaming the brown carpet (which is supposed to be white). Despite this, I wasn’t assuming that Nikki was 100% a slob - more or less 50% a slob, and the rest I can chalk up to him not knowing any better. I know Nikki hasn’t always had or accepted the type of discipline and skill that a parental figure would instill to keep a tidy home. However, even though I was understanding, it didn't mean that I could bear the smell any longer. Moving out of the apartment, I joined Tommy out on the balcony where he was having a cigarette while Nikki was still getting ready.

“Tell me more about Vince.” I spoke, Tommy turned his head from the view of the Strip to acknowledge my presence. Leaning against the railing next to him, Tommy put his arm around my shoulder. Since our initial encounter at the diner, I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know Tommy a little bit better when hosting dinners and talking to him. He reminded me of the little brother I never got to have, full of energy and youth. We balanced each other out well in conversations, he was able to get me excited and rambling while I reigned him in but listened intently to everything he had to say. 

“Why? Trying to see if he’s worth getting into bed with?” Tommy winked at me, I knew he was trying to frazzle me. “Jeez JJ, you haven’t even seen him yet.”

“Looks are just a small slice of the pie, I need to know if he’s got brains or not” I replied. 

“Vince’s brains are in his pants. The thing about Vince is that he’s a great guy to be around if you’re a guy.” He took a drag from the cigarette before continuing, “So just make sure he knows you’re one of the guys.” The red car I knew to be  Mick pulled up in front of the complex, so I turned back to the apartment where I had left the door ajar and yelled for Nikki.

“Sixx! Mick is here!” I heard something hit the floor behind him as Nikki emerged from the apartment and closed the door behind him. “You don’t lock your door?” I asked him, genuinely confused considering the equipment they kept there for rehearsing. 

“Why would anyone want to steal from me?” He answered my question with another question, which was something I was notorious for doing and he knew it. 

“Your equipment is in there though.” 

“And? Are the people who won’t even talk to me, who live here, going to steal it?” Being that he was a little snarky today, I figured he needed a reminder of who he was talking to. 

“Well I guess whoever wants to take your shit needs to get past all the garbage and the smell first.” I replied, walking down the stairs with Tommy towards Mick’s car. His silence was quite audible and I knew I had struck the right chord. 

“It’s not that bad in there!” Tommy was quick to come to his defence, especially considering he would be moving in with Nikki at some point. The two of them had discussed this over dinner not long ago.

“You boys have just been spending enough time in it that you’ve become used to it.” I said. In that moment I realised how badly these two boys needed a voice of reason and guidance around. They thought that it was quite acceptable to live like that. “You’re lucky I’m around, I’ll be the one to stop you from being evicted by the L.A Health Department.” 

“Get off your fucking high horse.” Nikki scoffed as we grew closer to Mick’s car. I lifted my foot and pressed it into the crook of Tommy’s knee while pushing my hand into Nikki’s chest to throw them both off balance. They both stumbled slightly as I took off into a run, swinging open Mick’s car door I slid into the passenger seat.

“Let’s go!” I yelled, leaning out the window and laughing as Tommy and Nikki fumbled into the backseat. Despite the fact that Nikki had seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed, today he had a smirk on his face as he and Tommy squished their body’s into the backseat of the Mazda. Knowing Nikki, only a little bit, I could maybe conclude he was nervous about whether Vince would work out of not. They sounded good without a lead singer, and I know he wants someone to match the rest of their talent.

“Mick Mars, you ready to go get a blonde fucker?” I asked him, sticking out my hand for a fist bump. He returned the gesture before shifting the car into drive. 

“This kid better be good, drummer.” Was the reply that Mick offered as we took off towards the house party. Arriving on the street, the first thing we noticed were the dozens of cars lined up and the second was the noise from down the block. As we got out of the car, Tommy let us know that the noise was Vince. Nikki had commented that he sounded good for now and everyone’s spirits were high. As we entered the backyard, the third thing that we all noticed was how easily these guys stood out in the crowd. The people at this party were very obviously preppy, the colour palette was very warm and looked just like the people I would have hung around with in high school. In fact, if these guys weren’t here then I would blend in quite well. The four of us were stopped in the entrance of the backyard, and I felt a hand on the small of my back as Nikki started making his way into the sea of strangers. 

“I want a shot of Jack already and we’ve been here for two seconds” He whispered in my ear as the four of us made our way to the makeshift bar in the middle of the backyard. As we approached the table, Nikki took a bottle of Jack Daniels out of the hand of someone passing by. They turned in protest but then decided against it once taking in the sight of us. Leaning against the table, I was paying attention to the band on stage. The four guys on the stage were playing a cover of Billy Squier’s My Kind of Lover and though it was nothing special compared to the original, I would say the lead singer was using the song to his advantage. The women were flocking to the front of the stage, infatuated with him. Tapping my foot along to the beat, I felt a hand on the small of my back again as the bottle of Jack appeared in my vision. Shaking my head, I gently pushed the neck back towards Nikki. Even though the offer was denied and he didn’t need my attention anymore, Nikki’s hand remained and I was hyper-aware of the fact. 

“Fucking cover band?” Mick questioned, sounding displeased. 

“Yeah but I’m telling you, I went to high school with this guy.” Tommy continued to vouch for Vince, attempting to convince Mick to see past the exterior. Unlike Mick, I was hearing a voice that could go with the heavy metal these guys have been playing. 

“You’re telling me you haven’t played covers to make a cheap buck Mick?” I questioned, looking back at him as he took the bottle of Jack from Nikki. His scowl softened ever so slightly, which served as the silent reply I needed. Tommy and Nikki stepped forward a little away from the table to talk and I stayed there with Mick.

“I know what you mean though Mick,” He glanced his eyes over at me before returning to watch Vince, taking a sip from the bottle. “You want to know if the guy is serious about the music or in it for something else. I get it” He nodded appreciatively, a man of few words. I couldn’t tell if I was on the right track, but when he stuck his fist out towards me I knew I had been right. Quickly bumping my fist against his, I caught his smile as he took another sip from the bottle. 

“This isn’t our style.” Mick called out to Nikki and Tommy. The two looked back at Mick before Nikki motioned his hand out to the crowd in front of the stage. 

“I don’t care if he can sing or not, look at what he’s doing to those chicks” He replied. Tommy turned his whole body around and came walking towards me with a grin, which I knew was not a good sign.

“Yeah JJ, look at what he’s doing to those chicks. You creaming your jeans yet?” He laughed at how uncomfortable I appeared from his statement. I wasn’t ignorant to the stares from both Mick and Nikki as they awaited my thoughts. 

“Blondes aren’t my type Tommy.” I replied, but it didn’t appear that he was letting up on me. Standing next to me as we listened to the tail end of the song, Tommy looked like he had something else to say. 

“They might not be your type, but blondes are Vince’s type. You’re my bribing factor JJ.” Tommy said, he tried to walk away but I grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket. 

“You are not pimping me!” I whisper shouted at him, he laughed and pulled his jacket out my hand as the song ended. 

“We are Rock Candy!” Vince said into the microphone as he exited the stage. Nikki returned to the table beside Mick and myself, his arm going around my shoulder. 

“Shitty name” mumbled Mick and I nodded in agreement. 

“I heard something about Tommy pimping you out to Vince,” Nikki said low enough that only I was hearing it. Shifting under the weight of his arm I looked up at him. 

“ Not only are blondes not my type, but neither is being pimped out” I replied as we watched Tommy and Vince embrace. “His voice is right for you guys, but you’ll need to help him tweak it. Billy Squier is much different than what you guys are playing.” Nikki nodded in agreement with me. The two of us continued to watch Tommy and Vince talk as Tommy pointed back at the three of us before handing him something. He bounded back to us with the type of energy that I envied. 

“I gave him the tape to listen to, it’s got my number on it so I told him to call!” Tommy sounded excited, so I took it that the exchange between the two of them went well. For the sake of these three guys and all the hard work that I had seen them putting into this band thus far, I was really hoping that this would all work out for them. More so, I was quite excited to leave this party and return home to relax before my shift began and I would be dealing with the Friday night leftovers from the Sunset Strip shows. 

A couple weeks had passed since we had ventured to the pool party to watch Vince, and despite how excited Tommy had seemed, the man with promise had yet to even give them a phone call. With each day that went by, I could tell the guys were becoming discouraged  even though they continued to practice every night like clockwork. I tried to keep things constant for them on my part, and made sure that the door was open to welcome them for dinner every night after practice. 

The more that I was around the guys, the more I got to know them. Tommy had learned to play in the drums from the high school marching band, but was one of the most musically inclined of the bunch. When Nikki had met Tommy in the diner, I hadn’t noticed the drumsticks he had been carrying, but since then I had taken note that he did in fact always have a pair glued to him. He was constantly fidgeting with them to the point where I had threatened to toss them into the trash if he hit me one more time while twirling them. In typical Tommy fashion he had apologized profusely. He also told me he appreciated that I was so upfront with him about the things he did that piss me off - something he said his parents were not the greatest at. Mick on the other hand, was a bit of a harder egg to crack. All I could really tell about him was the fact that something seemed to bother him all the time, he never looked like he could quite get comfortable no matter where we were. Nikki and I remained on the same page. We hadn’t really had the opportunity to hang out, just the two of us since Mick joined the trio and I was okay with it for now. What was becoming of increasing concern to me though was their love of substances. The past couple of weekends, the three of them came to the diner during my shift after having watched someone playing at the Starwood or the Whiskey, being as loud and obnoxious as I had ever seen them. Carlos always made sure to poke his disapproving head over the kitchen window and give me his signature “fix it” stare. I tried to shovel bread and water into their systems to slow them down, and they would soon leave just as quickly as they entered, with shouts of “you have to come out soon JJ!” and “live up to the Janis name!” echoing as they exited back onto the street. I knew drugs and alcohol were part of the music scene, and I  wasn't a stranger to them myself, but I knew when to stop. Since I hadn’t seen them party in person yet, I couldn’t gauge whether or not they knew when to stop, but a gut feeling was telling me that they did not in fact know when to stop. 

Today though, was a Monday which meant a fresh start to the week. Feet to the pavement at 4:30 and I was off. The guys always waited until they heard me going down the stairs before they began playing to make sure that I was awake, it was quite the considerate thing to do. Making my way through the streets of Los Angeles, I noticed that it was absolutely sweltering today and the white shirt that I was wearing would soon become quite see-through. The marquees of the Whiskey and the Starwood adorned names that I don’t recognise but that I’m sure Tommy could ramble on about for hours with the aid of Nikki. Those two could give my parents a run for their money when it came for the love of music. I could turn the radio on or throw in a random cassette and as long as it was rock, those two could name the artist, the song, the album and their thoughts within 30 seconds of the song. I had to admit, it was impressive. Rounding the corner that led back to our street, I was ready for a shower. Glancing down at the white shirt, I noticed that my prediction had reigned true. Crossing at the traffic light, there was a beautiful, red 280Z car parked out front the apartment complex. Knowing the people that lived in the building, there was no one with enough money to own that kind of car. Confused, I headed up the stairs while peeling the shirt off my back and tossing it over my shoulder. There was no music coming from Nikki’s apartment, only lots of voices. Continuing up the stairs, I heard a woman’s voice speak. 

“I’m just trying to make sure these guys are good enough to play with you baby.” Those were some odd words. Walking quietly, I paused at the ajar doorway. Mick could see me through the crack but I motioned for him to stay quiet. He started into a riff, while a voice started singing, which I recognised as Vince. After only playing for no more than 30 seconds, the same voice called out, “This isn’t right!” She wasn’t wrong. They mumbled among themselves about how they could change the song so that it sounded better. Nikki said something about muzzling that I didn’t quite pick up but judging by the outcry of curses from the woman, it had to do with muzzling her. Mick just started back into the song again, at a faster pace to silence her. They sounded a lot better. As they started getting into the song I recognised it to be “Live Wire” whose lyrics Nikki had shown me over dinner a while back. Figuring that they would be distracted while playing, I opened the door further which let in more light and I leaned against the doorway listening to them play. Nikki and Tommy had noticed and smiled at me before Nikki motioned with his head over to Vince who was just coming to the tail end of the song. “Holy shit” breathed the woman on the couch. 

“Holy shit is right, that sounded great!” I exclaimed. Nikki grabbed my hand and shook it enthusiastically while Tommy yelled out in agreement. Mick in his true fashion just smiled and nodded along. Without even looking at him, I knew Vince was staring at me. Sticking out my hand for an introduction I spoke to Vince, “Janis Jade, you must be Vince?” He took the hand and gave it a firm shake, pausing while opening his mouth to speak.

“Tommy said you would be here,” He glanced over his shoulder at Tommy and back at me, giving me a once over. “And I have to say I’m quite glad that you are.” Glaring at Tommy, he feigned innocence and shrugged his shoulders. Damn bastard did try to pimp me out. Dropping Vince’s hand I side stepped him and stuck my hand out for the woman who remained sitting on the couch through all this. 

“Janis Jade, I’m Nikki’s upstairs neighbour.” She looked at my hand but did not return the gesture. 

“Baby, you better not be getting any ideas with her around just because she’s sleeping with Nikki.” Though she was quite ignorant, I kept my cool. I was as covered, if not more, than some of the people he was talking to at the pool party. Glancing over my shoulder at Nikki who was beginning to open his mouth, I stuck my hand up slightly to signal him to stop.  

“My apologies sweetheart, I’m sure my midriff was giving him all sorts of ideas.” Grabbing the white shirt from over my shoulders I pulled it over my head. My sweat had made it so that my cleavage was as bright as day but the rest of my torso was covered. Pulling the shirt taut by the hem so that this was emphasised to her I continued, “There we are.” Letting go of the end of my shirt and turning on my heel, I waved to everyone. “Things are sounding good you guys! I’ll bring down some dinner around 8:30.” The silence in the room was deafening but the thumbs-up of support from Tommy didn’t go unnoticed. Walking out the door, I left the boys to deal with the two blondes. 

“I’ll say what we are all thinking. JJ would win in any wet t-shirt contest.” That was unmistakably Tommy’s voice.

Next Chapter 

[getoutofthewater]

@dbhrarepairs Saturday Day 6 [Ride or Die]: 

[Gavin/Leo]

Rating: G

Notes: Same Age AU, High School AU

Words: 3,200 [AO3]

They met at the foster home.

Gavin went in and out of them regularly since he’d been put in the system, nosy neighbors disturbed by his parents nasty fights had cared enough about the neglected child overridden with lice to call the authorities.

Gavin had been taken away, so he wasn’t there when his house and surname ended up plastered all over the news just like his dad’s brains, and that same nosy neighbor on the TV, framed by the yellow tape, telling to whomever would listen he’d seen this coming all along, you could see that man had lost his marbles from the get go and the missus none the better, it happened one way but it could have easily been the other, the world was better off without them, god bless.

All of this did Gavin no favors, he’d dodged that bullet, but hopeful parents weren’t overeager to  take on so much baggage, by the time the powers that be decided to send him farther away from home so his name wouldn’t be linked to the crime scene, by the time it was all forgotten, he’d already decided he hated everyone, and if everyone thought he would kill them in their sleep he’d make sure their fears were justified, even if he had been worryingly stuck at 5’9 for a while, he blamed malnutrition.

When Leo was dropped off at the foster home, Gavin had recognized him immediately, all the kids there did, with his good clothes and his puffy, red eyes, it was like that movie about the stupid cartoon dogs, where the cute dog is taken to the pound, and everyone is jealous of her because they know she’s different and she’ll be out of there in no time. That’s what kids like Leo were, pedigree dipshits that were there for half a day crying their eyes out while relatives were located and arrangements were made.

Pedigree idiots were either bullied or ignored for their 10 minutes of residence, when it was clear that Leo would fight even while crying most of the kids concluded the latter option was best; but by the second week tension started to settle in, was Leo staying after all? If so the pecking order had to be established, there were one or two fights before Leo had come to Gavin maybe deciding in either a rare stroke of smarts or extreme dumbassery, (it was always hard to tell with Leo) that if he defeated the one at the top of the food chain he’d be left alone.

Gavin threw a punch right at Leo’s face, and Leo in the wild flailing he called fighting had punched Gavin in the jaw, getting him just right in the tooth that had been hurting like a bitch for weeks, Gavin was knocked down to the floor from tooth ache, his jaw throbbing, an abscess ruptured, he vomited. Someone was screaming at them for ruining the carpet, Leo’s blood was everywhere.

Gavin was forcibly taken to have a root canal done, Leo’s nose was patched up.

“I’m sorry I fucked up your mouth” Leo said when he found him that night,

“You just got lucky” Gavin mumbled, the anesthetic working better now than it had at the dentist’s office

“Here” Leo said offering Gavin a granola bar, those things were almost currency

“Are you fucking with me?” Gavin spat “I can’t feel my mouth right now, genius”

“But you will … right?”

“Whatever” Gavin said snatching the prize out of Leo’s hands

Leo sat next to him though he hadn’t been invited, Gavin didn’t know what in the fuck was happening

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Gavin snarled

Leo shrugged, trying to make the gesture look light and careless “I think my dad hasn’t returned their calls and stuff,”

Gavin had meant why the fuck was Leo still sitting next to him but it was just like this self centered dumbass to interpret it differently

“Don’t you worry, fucking dummies like you are always picked up”

“I can punch you again, you know”

“Whathefuckever, I don’t feel my face anyway”

Gavin wasn’t wrong, soon enough Leo was picked up to be taken to his dad’s house, he’d given Gavin a hug goodbye, a real hug with a gentle squeeze, and maybe some of the dummy’s luck had rubbed off on him then because a few days after Leo left it was Gavin’s turn.

Hank Anderson never thought he’d be fostering a child, maybe even adopting the child. Jeffrey and his wife fostered often, Hank hadn’t paid that much attention to it, until now, until his bad days were something he could think about in past tense.

Hank talked it with Jeffrey, with Connor, it was worth the try, not a young child though. Hank didn’t feel good about that, that would be unloyal to Cole, and yeah, it may be an illogical thought, but it was his thought and dammit he was old and what of it if he wanted to be stubborn on this one, but maybe an older kid would be alright, a teenager, maybe an unruly one that was running out of options fast. Hank could deal with that. Hank got Gavin.  

Gavin entered any new situation with suspicion and aggression it had worked well for him so far, and anyway at 16 he was almost a fucking adult, he didn’t need any fucking geezer breathing down his neck, who knew if the guy was a creep, certainly not the social workers. When the geezer opened the door to his house it was even worse, there was a dog, a fucking big fucking dog. Gavin stepped back

“Nothing to be afraid of, son” Hank reassured him “Old sumo wouldn’t hurt a fly”

“I’m not fucking afraid” Gavin spat “And I’m not your fucking anything!”

“Are we going to have a problem?” Hank said raising a serious eyebrow “First five seconds, we are going to set a record, I don’t want to give that old bat that dropped you off the damn satisfaction”

Gavin had to admit the geezer had a point “I’m not afraid of the dumb dog” Gavin said surly

“Fine, but the dog is not dumb,” Hank said patting Sumo, in a way that said, ‘nevermind moody teenagers’ “come in, then”

Pretty soon it was evident to Gavin that the only creepy thing about the geezer was his cringe music collection. Hank didn’t care if Gavin was messy, or if he put his feet up on the coffee table, he didn’t care if Gavin swore as long as he didn’t swear at the dog, and Gavin was perfectly cool with the dog as long as the dog didn’t drool all over his shit, he may have even patted Sumo’s head once when the geezer was at work. Gavin had a curfew but he didn’t really mind, there wasn’t anywhere for him to be after 10 pm anyway, and lacking someone to fight, he’d gone and enrolled in the wrestling summer course at the school, where for the first time his talent for messing people up was a plus.  

Gavin was aware of his luck, he could sit here and wait to turn 18; there were worse places to be; the awkward dinners Hank would insist on having together, where they sat in silence, none of them knowing what to say, trying to pretend the silence wasn’t fucking uncomfortable, all the conversation starters Hank threw out there fizzling and dying like mosquitoes bumping against a bug zapper and falling on the table miserably, those  lame fucking dinners were a  very cheap price to pay for a room all to himself, a bathroom he only had to share with one other person, and knowing he could sleep and nobody would come try to steal his shit or try to fuck with him.

When school started in autumn, he didn’t have any plans to make friends, but he’d already had a head start, his wrestling teammates saw him as one of them, Gavin somehow ended up hanging out with Chris a lot, even if Chris fucking sucked at the sport, members of the cheerleading team would say hi to him in the halls, he didn’t know their names, he didn’t care to know them, but they saw him as part of the team.

And then there was Tina, Gavin didn’t know quite how that had happened, you didn’t meet Tina, Tina was something that happened to you.  Gavin liked her leagues better than anyone at the school, he could talk to her and Tina would actually listen to what he was saying, not just make her own fucking version of it in her head like most of the other stupid kids. Soon he found himself sitting with Tina and Chris at lunch and not hating it, and he’d feel, somewhat uncomfortably, that maybe all of this was actually working out for him.

And one day there was Leo, somehow, standing with his lunch tray in his hands and a fading black eye, looking around the hall with the lost, unseeing gaze of someone who doesn’t really have anyone to find but will put on the show of it anyway.

“Dumbass!” Gavin called out waving at him, as if he were fucking possessed, he didn’t know the idiot, what the fuck.

But Leo didn’t need more of an invitation; he sat next to Gavin, with what seemed a sigh of relief, Gavin’s two friends stared expectantly, waiting for him to make some sort of introduction, which Gavin, of course, didn’t.

“Hey, I’m Leo” Leo said introducing himself, sounding more natural and friendly than Gavin would ever have

“You got transferred?” Tina said lightly after introducing herself and Chris

“More like, forcibly removed from my old school, really” Leo said with a sheepish shrug

“How do you know Gavin?” Chris asked, trying to direct the conversation towards less awkward places

“He broke my nose at a foster home?” Leo’s words got higher to end in the pitch of a question as he realized everything in his life leading to this moment had been a mistake. “but, I also really fucked up his abscessed tooth, so it was even!”

“Oh! I can totally see that!” Tina said chirpily, kicking Gavin’s shin under the table  

It was that easy, from not knowing the dumbass to suffering the dumbass daily. The excited way in which he’d tell Gavin about ice skating, the disgusting way in which he’d puke all over himself when he drank way too much at stupid parties. Leo would take Gavin’s notebooks only to draw dicks with stupid cartoon faces on them, or if he was in a very good mood cute cats, Gavin had counted 3 cats so far.

They would go on their bikes and race each other until their leg’s shook, they signed up to help at the animal shelter, and agreed to keep it a secret nobody else would know about, although Tina eventually found out and Gavin suspected Hank was not as clueless about it as he pretended to be. Some evenings they’d hang out at Hank’s and Leo would make him listen to weird albums as they sprawled lazily on the living room floor.

“You staying for dinner, kid?” Hank would ask if he found them there when he arrived from work

“Yes!, if I can,” Leo would reply brightening up “can I?”

“Sure you can, but text your dad I don’t want him wondering where the hell you are” Hank would say gruffly, still self-conscious of the easy way in which his manner slipped into a fatherly one “Dinner will be ready in 10 minutes, so get a move on!”

Leo chuckled softly when Hank left the room

“What?” Gavin asked

“Get a move on, is something you say now too” Leo said with a smirk “you got it from him”

“Many people say it” Gavin argued which only made Leo’s smirk grow wider “Shut the fuck up!” Gavin barked but that only made Leo chuckle again

With Leo there the dinners couldn’t be quiet anymore, he was always eager to babble nonsense, fueled by even the slightest trace of attention, so Hank’s conversation starters didn’t die on the spot; sometimes Connor would join them too, and that would give Gavin and Hank enough material to keep something akin to conversation when they were alone.

“Any plans for the weekend?” Hank asked as they washed their dishes, it was always easier to talk if they were busy doing something else

“Want to know if you’ll have the house to yourself for a cringe old people date?”

“Yeah that’s right, need to know if I can make plans or if I have to leave space to go search for you when you don’t turn up like last time”

“That was only because Leo drank too fucking much, I couldn’t fucking ditch him at that stupid party”

“Bit of a wild card that one” Hank said, still focusing on the soapy water, Gavin tensed foreseeing the start of a ‘you need better friends’ conversation

“Listen, kid” Hank continued “Next time, and with that one there will be a few next times, you call me, got it? I’ll pick you two up, he can sleep over”

“We are only going to the lake,” Gavin said, trying to avoid committing to anything, still instinctively suspicious of being offered good things without strings attached “we are taking our bikes”

“Does Manfred know about it?”

Gavin shrugged as he dried a glass

“Hmph” Hank grunted noncommittally “be back by 7, I don’t want you two out there after dark… and no drinking!”

“Yes, sir” Gavin replied, without as much of his usual sarcasm

But there were also the days in which Leo would be angry, and his mood would only get stormier as he ruminated over all the things that annoyed him without being able to let any of them go

“I’m just pissed off like all the fucking time” Leo would say on those days looking trapped

Gavin could see it, he knew the feeling, and he’d listen to Leo rant about his dad not caring a rat’s ass about him.

“He only throws his stupid money at me, he didn’t even come after mom died, he didn’t even come to the school when they expelled me! They ended up sending him an email” Leo said stomping his foot against the floor, looking foolish and powerless. Gavin decided he’d throw Carl Manfred down the stairs one day, accidents happened, they would never be able to prove anything.

“It’s all Markus this and that,” Leo went on “he’s not even his fucking kid, that’s me and he wouldn’t even notice if I disappeared, I’m just going to fuck off!”

“You aren’t serious”

“I fucking am!” Leo shouted “If I stay I’ll lose my fucking mind!”

Unlike Leo, Gavin had ran away before, he knew what the fuck that entailed. The cold, the hunger, the creepy fuckers just waiting for you to take your guard down, it was scary and lonely and hopeless, and Leo was not made for any of that.

“Right,” Gavin said crossing his arms “So where are we going?”

They made a plan, which involved less than honorable things like stealing some of Manfred’s paintings to sell, but they would need the money and the old prick could always paint more.  

The date was set, everything was ready there were only a few more details to talk over,

“We should book a hotel” Gavin said “So we have a place to stay, I have enough in my savings for that”

Leo didn’t reply, he only stared blankly at their notes

“Anyone there?” Gavin said

“Yeah, sorry”

Gavin should have known there was something odd then, Leo was nothing if not absorbed by their future plans.

Later that day when Leo didn’t show up at the shelter Gavin knew for certain something was off; they both would skip school sometimes but never the shelter, Gavin checked his phone, no notifications, an oddity, Leo’s phone was all but fused to his hand. He opened his notebook anxiously turning the pages waiting for a reply when his eyes fell on a new note.

“I’m going away” the dumbass wrote “Sorry for not saying goodbye, but It’s better if I go alone,  I have your phone number but I’m leaving my phone at home just like we planned, it’s so creepy that they can track you with it. I will try to call you when I’m somewhere”

There was a big blotch of black ink where Leo had scratched something out at the end and he hadn’t even signed it, when he’s somewhere, Gavin though setting off for the Amtrak train station. Somewhere!

“by bus is way faster, dummy” Gavin had said, “it’s only like 4 hours max”

“Yeah but by train would be so freaking dope!”

“It’s like 7 fucking hours!”  Gavin said “I’m not going to sit my ass in a stinky train that smells of butts for 7 hours!”

But Leo absolutely would

Gavin bought his ticket, got on the train to Cleveland (delayed), and as he did a ton of bricks were lifted from his chest, there was no need to go any further, there in one of the seats was his fucking idiot.

“What the hell, Leo!” Gavin barked flopping on the seat next to his “What the fuck are you even doing!”

Leo clutched the cardboard tube that most likely contained the stolen paintings, seemingly at a loss for words for once

“Why the fuck are you ditching me?” Gavin spat

“I’m not!” Leo said finding his words “I really wanted you to come with me, but you can’t”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You shouldn’t waste your money on this, and you told me you like it with the Lieutenant,” Leo explained “and weren’t you going to ask him about the police academy thing? You can’t do that if we are wherever!”

“Who gives a shit about that?”

“I do!” Leo said vehemently, “You don’t have it to fuck it all up for a fuck up!”

“Fuck it, wherever you are going, I’m going” Gavin said settling on the seat, “even if you are taking us to fucking trashtown nowhereville on a fucking train out of all fucking things, you need someone there to tell you how much of a delusional deadshit you are”

Leo was quiet for a while, thinking or spacing out, with Leo it was probably the later, he sighed before he spoke “Jeez, fine! let’s go back…I’m done being a delusional deadshit for today”

“You sure?” Gavin said feeling self-conscious relief  

Leo nodded, but ignoring them the train started its march,

“Oh, shit!”

“Phck!”

They sat stunned for a moment looking at each other, then Gavin grinned “Nevermind, we can go to Cleveland and get back, maybe we can even sell those fuck ugly things”

“Like, an adventure!” Leo said perking up, “The Lieutenant will ground you forever though”

“That’s on your dumbass!” Gavin said, pushing Leo away playfully, before taking out his phone to send a text to the old man.

[tivaholic4]

NCIS High School: Chapter Eleven:

The game ended after the overtime quarter (Which means the teams were tied in the fourth quarter and need to determine a winner so they added another quarter to the game.) The score was 68-66. Michael Franks Washington beating Washington High by two points. The people in the stands were screaming and jumping on the bleachers. They had finally beaten their rival. Tony looked around the stands and locked eyes with Ziva. She was smiling brightly at the scoreboard and of the chaos going around the gym. She was looking around at the excitement that was spreading around this room. She locked eyes with Tony and her smile became brighter. He moved over to the bleachers and saw Ziva, Abby, and McGee as well as his parents standing and cheering for his school and their basketball team.

After 10 minutes, things finally started to settle down. Tony and his team moved to the locker room where they all cheered after their win against their big rival. Tony got pats on the back from most of his teammates. He hurriedly gathered his things and changed and left the locker room. As he walked into the hallway he saw Ziva, Abby, and Tim, along with his parents, waiting for him, leaning against the wall talking. He locked eyes with Ziva and started making his way over to her. Um them. As he was walking, a hand grabbed his shoulder and wouldn’t let go. He turned around to see Jeanne standing there with a smile on her face and batting her eyelashes. He yanked his shoulder away from her and started walking towards Ziva and his family again. Her hand gripped his shoulder once more. He turned around, ready to tell her off.

“What do you want, Jeanne?” His voice was filled with venom. Something that Jeanne seemed to ignore.

“Wanna join me at the Sacks’ house for the after-game party? I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun.” Tony gave her a look of hatred. He knocked her hand off his shoulder once more and looked at her.

“Leave me alone, Jeanne. And don’t touch me ever again.” With that, he turned around and walked to Ziva again. Jeanne didn’t make another attempt at him. As he saw Ziva, his glare made its way into a smile. She was sending a glare over in Jeanne’s direction. Something that made his heart flutter. She was jealous. He liked that she was protective of him. He didn't know how much, but he was very protective of her too.

He walked over and his dad gave him a pat on the back. Tony had scored 46 of the 68 points tonight. People would say that it was skill, but in reality, it was the fact that Ziva was there and he wanted to impress her.

“Did you see the look on Jacobs' face when you scored that three-pointer? Looked like he was about to shit himself.” Gibbs laughed. Jenny lightly slapped him in the arm, as they were in a public place and it wasn’t just the family and Abby. There was a beautiful girl standing close to Tony. She assumed that this was Ziva.

“Hi. I’m Jenny Gibbs. Tony’s mother. Excuse my husband, he’s normally a functional mute. At least, until it comes to sports.” Gibbs smirked. Ziva smiled at the love that she could see between the two adults.

“It is very nice to meet you. I am Ziva.” She went to shake their hands which they accepted happily. Gibbs turned to look at her and noticed she looked like someone that he knew. Ziva saw this and turned her head to the side and squinted her eyebrows together. Gibbs. She had heard her father say many things about this man. Manly how stubborn and addicted to coffee he was.

“Gibbs? As in Leroy Jethro Gibbs?” Ziva hesitantly asked, not wanting to seem creepy. Gibbs nodded his head slightly. The family around them could only watch the interaction.

“My father has told me many things about you. Mainly good as you have a strong work ethic. Something my father greatly appreciated when working with you.” Then it clicked for Gibbs and he raised his head to her.

“Eli David was your father?” Ziva nodded.

“Yes sir.” Ziva had always been polite. Something her mother practically branded her into at a young age. She would always say “Nobody will respect you if you don’t show some respect and manners yourself.” It was always something that Ziva took to heart as she believed her mother to be correct.

Gibbs looked at her within hidden emotion. He had heard that Eli David’s remaining family had moved to the U.S. He didn’t expect his oldest son to become smitten with his oldest daughter. He knew how much of a hard-ass Eli was, especially when it came to his family.

“I’m sorry for loss.” Ziva nodded her head, a silent thank you.

“Enough sadness! Let’s go get some ice cream!” Abby yelled. She hated it when people were sad and it seemed like Ziva really didn’t want to have this conversation. Everybody agreed and they made their way out to their separate vehicles. Tony drove his 1969 Mustang and offered Ziva a ride to the ice cream parlor. Tim drove with Abby in his 1970 Audi, something that they always did as they were very close friends and her hot rod was always causing problems. Gibbs and Jenny drove in Gibbs’ Ford F250 as the company charger was normally for too and from work.

Tony and Ziva climbed into the mustang and followed Jenny and Gibbs with Tim and Abby behind them. They made it to Presidential Scoops (actually a real place in Washington D.C.) and went inside. There were many people crowded into the little building that was the ice cream parlor. Many noticed Tony and his varsity jacket and patted him on the back for his job well done in their game tonight. He said thanks but went right back to his conversation with Ziva about some things that she was confused about from the game.

“How hard do you have to hit someone for it to be a foul?” She asked, not wanting Tony to be hurt in this game he found so enjoyable. Tony shrugged.

“Honestly not that hard. If somebody from the other team practically touches you that’s a foul. Sometimes it can be a charge foul, you know where they actually try to hurt you.” Ziva nodded. She had seen one instance when that had happened tonight. Somebody totally nailed Jackson and was called to the free-throw line. The other player was on the bench for the rest of the game.

“So that is why he was on the bench the rest of the game?”

“Well, he had five fouls which means that he couldn’t play in the game anymore.” Ziva’s mouth formed an O shape as she got what he was saying. They ordered their ice cream. Tony got strawberry and Ziva got mint chocolate chip. It was no Berry Mango Madness but it would do. It was actually very good. She turned around and saw that Abby had gotten chocolate and Tim had gotten peanut butter. Surprisingly, there was a coffee flavor that they served, which of course Gibbs got. Jenny got orange sherbert. They all moved to a table outside of the parlor as all the seats had been taken. Many others must have had the same idea as they did as the parlor only became more crowded. They all ate their ice cream together and talked about the game. Ziva’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She didn’t want to take it out of her pocket, not wanting to be rude, but she wondered if it was her mother. She reached behind her and grabbed a hold of her phone and unlocked the screen. It was her mother.

Ima: Where are you, Ziva? You said you would be home after school. It is 8 PM.

Ziva wanted to smack herself on the forehead. How could she forget to tell her mother where she was and what she was doing? But more importantly, who she was with. Ever since Ari was killed, she had been very protective and Ziva and Tali. Not wanting anything to happen to her daughters. When Tali died, she upd the anney, and Ziva had finally reasoned with her to stop hounding her. Even though she knew her mother was just scared for Ziva to be out and about, it was interfering with Ziva’s freedom. She was finally away from the burden of Israel and looked forward to the countless opportunities to be free in this country.

Ziva: I am sorry, Ima. Tony had a basketball game today and he wanted me to come. I met his parents after and we are eating ice cream not too far from the house.

She knew that her mother didn’t trust people and she was surprised that she actually took a liking to Tony so early. I guess that ran in the family as she was quite smitten with him herself. Her mother’s reply came back as fast as she could type.

Ima: I do not want you out too late tonight. We still have boxes to unpack. You still need to get your room situated.

Her mother never liked messes. Especially nowadays. She would clean every Saturday and sometimes every Wednesday when Eli had a drunken fit some nights, and she would fight to put him to bed. Something Ziva was very glad would not happen now. Yes, she missed her father, but he never acted like a father to her only like a sperm donor. He had always shown Tali that side of affection, but when it came to her, it had always vanished as soon as he saw her. She didn’t know what she did to make that spark leave his eyes. She had always tried to please him, but it would go to no avail. Eventually, she had given up seeing as it wasn’t worth her time when all he did was turn his nose up at her.

Ziva: I will be home soon, Ima.

Ima: Will you need me to pick you up?

She looked up and saw that Tony was looking at her with a smile on his face.

“I can take you home. Tell her not to worry her pretty little head about it.” Ziva smiled and let out a chuckle. No doubt this was some of his charm.

Ziva: No. Tony said that he will bring me home.

Ima: Okay. Be careful. I love you, Zivaleh.

Ziva smiled.

Ziva: Love you too, Ima.

Her mother was all that she had left now. She loved her very deeply and knew that her mother felt the same. Just because they moved here from bad experiences, didn’t mean that they had to dwell on them any longer. They had a fresh start and Ziva planned on taking that. Especially with the man, she was sitting next too.

[jadonsanchoo]

l'anniversaire

kylian mbappé x reader

warnings: none i guess

— this is so bad and if there are any errors, i apologize!

Kylian Mbappé was probably the most forgetful person on Earth– maybe it was an exaggeration but he for sure could not remember anything if his life depended on it. Well, maybe unless if it came to football. But most of the time, you’d be reminding him to get to practice on time, or to go to his doctor’s appointments, or to any parties and events he was invited to. He was always late. Or ‘fashionably late’ as he would say.

You loved him, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel angry. Sometimes, he would pretend to not remember things so he would skip events or things he was invited to just because he wanted to stay home or didn’t care. You were usually the one who kept him track, reminding him about everything– and if were being honest, the kid would never make it anywhere on time or on the right date.

You usually kept him together, and Kylian couldn’t even remember how life was without you. Although you two didn’t live together, you were always over and his place always felt like home to you. It had been over two years since you’d met him, and almost a year since you two began dating. Being together for almost a year meant a lot to you and to him, of course. Time had passed so quickly you couldn’t believe the fact that you’d be celebrating your first year as a couple on Saturday.

You two had decided on something cute but simple for your first anniversary, just a date at your favorite restaurant and then a walk around the city and then end the night by taking you to the Effiel Tower, and as cliché as it was, you still loved it.

And as Saturday came, Kylian couldn’t spend the entire day with you because he had to leave early in order to ride with the team, since there was a match that day. You’d figure since the match was played a little later than you expected and in the city of Lille, you’d just stay in Paris, watch the match at home as you got ready for your date.

And that’s what you did, you got ready and you looked absolutely beautiful. Hours passed by, and the match had ended over four hours ago and yet there was no text from him and no sign of him coming any time soon.

You sat in the living room, dressed in your elegant dress (that Kylian had even helped you pick for this day) scrolling through your Instagram. And you couldn’t help but feel a pinch at your heart as you looked through some of his teammates’ stories and saw Kylian laughing in the background.

You felt a mix of emotions, you felt angry then upset and then angry all over again.

Again. He forgot about you again. It wasn’t the first time he had forgetten to meet you somewhere, he’d also forgetten about dates. But forgetting your first anniversary? That had to hurt the most.

You texted him, and there was no reply.

Hours passed by, and there was nothing from him. By then, you had taken off you dress and changed into something more comfortable, taken off your makeup and tried your best to forget about tonight. But how could you when tonight was supposed to be a special night for you two?

When Kylian has arrived at his hotel room and turned on his phone (after it had died) he noticed the messages from you, asking him when he was coming home. And still not thinking much of it, he replied by saying ‘tomorrow morning, babe’ and it didn’t click in his head about what today was.

And you felt another pinch at your heart, he had forgotten your anniversary and at this point it just felt a bit humiliating. You wanted to say something, but you preferred to talk to him in person than start anything through text messages.

Before Kylian headed to sleep, he scrolled through Instagram and it was when it hit him. He looked at a post one of your fan accounts had posted, it was the same picture she had posted they day you had officially started dating a year ago. He noticed that you had only read his message– which was something you never did. You’d always reply with a goodnight or a heart.

He sent you multiple messages, apologizing and telling you how much he loved you. But you didn’t reply to any of them, and he knew you saw them because next the his message popped up ‘read’ at the time he had sent them. He then tried to call you, and you only let his calls go to voicemail, you had no energy to talk to him, but neither did you want to.

And when he got back to Paris, early in the morning, he found you on the sofa peacefully asleep. When you woke up, he was seated on the other side of the sofa.

“Mon amour. .” he started, but you couldn’t help but feel anger in your veins and you pushed him away when he tried to get closer to you.

“How could you forget, Kylian?”

“I don’t know, I really don’t know–”

You scoffed, “we had been talking about it for months, Kylian!”

There was more to it. You were hurt that he had forgotten your first anniversary, but you couldn’t help but feel not important to him. He would’ve remembered if he really cared. But he was also someone very forgetful, but you couldn’t help but think about how many more times he’ll do this in the future. If he can’t even remember your first anniversary, how would he remember the next? And any important events after that?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to hold your hands but you pushed them away. And although you could never stay mad at him for long, this was the only time that you ever had actually been mad at him.

You nodded, “I just want some space, for right now. I’ll talk to you soon,” you shrugged, as you gathered your things and headed towards the door. He had said your name a few times, but you didn’t bother looking back.

And only time could tell if you’d both find yourself back to one another.

[speed-reiding]

Too Much

You stared at your reflection in the mirror- your curled hair fell in tumbles over your shoulders, your makeup made your eyes shine and your face glow and you wore a strapless, fitted, floor length navy gown with sweetheart neckline. You were very pleased with the results. You’d been working at the BAU for just about 6 months and tonight, the team was headed to a gala in honor of a wealthy donor. You knew this meant some quality time with your new teammates, dancing and an open bar. Not so secretly, you hoped you’d finally get Dr. Spencer Reid to notice you.

From the day you’d met the adorable genius, you’d found him unbearably attractive. The more you got to know him, the more you liked him and it was beginning to impede on your ability to focus when the two of you were alone on a task at work. While you did your best to hide it, Spencer showed absolutely no interest in you. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice your existence at all. Hopefully seeing you dressed up would attract his attention.

You heard the doorbell ring; Derek Morgan, your closest friend on the team, was there to pick you up. Everyone else had paired up, had plans or were bringing dates, so Derek had kindly offered to take you. The team had all sprung for rooms at the hotel, so no one would have to drive home that night.

“Y/N, you are a vision,” Derek’s eyes lit up when he greeted you, “if I didn’t know who this was all for, I’d let my mind wander.” Derek smirked, and you smiled in return.

“Well, no big ideas. I wish Spencer would react how everyone else seems to when a woman puts in some effort.”

“Oh princess, you are in no way just a woman. You are incredible, inside and out. The kid’s just sure he’s got no chance with you.” You smiled as Derek opened the door for you, unaware that he was speaking from experience. Derek was also Spencer’s close friend and spent hours listening to him fret about how enchanting you were, and how he was so preoccupied with you, he had once had to think to come up with the 100th digit of pi.

The ride to the hotel was short, and you were a little late so the team was already there. From their perspective, you glided in on Derek’s arm, laughing as if on a cloud. In reality, you’d nearly fallen up a step and he’d caught you and you were both laughing at the scene he had saved you from. When you got the the BAU table of the beautifully decorated- and gigantic- hall, Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi stood to greet you.

“You look beautiful, Y/N” Aaron said, smiling proudly.

“If I were ten years younger,” Rossi laughed as he kissed your cheek in greeting. JJ and Will were already dancing. Penelope had found her way to Derek and they were off to the bar, so you sat next to Spencer, who was looking at the band.

“Hi, Spencer,” you said softly, wishing he would just notice you.

“Hi, Y/N,” he turned to you, but didn’t react, “these galas are always so opulent. But it’s nice to be here with everyone”. He smiled and got up, “excuse me.”

And that was it. Spencer Reid had no interest in you. Clearly, he didn’t even want to have a conversation. You didn’t realize Spencer was on his way to Derek at the bar to explain how he simply could not handle a night of watching you glide around in perfection with no case to try and distract himself with. 

The party dragged on. You danced with Hotch a little and with Derek and with men from different departments who complimented you and wanted to twirl you around for a moment. It was all on auto-pilot. You chatted to your teammates and sipped wine and champagne, hoping to mend the sinking feeling. But after an hour or so of watching Spencer interact with every member but you- even looking away every time you caught his eye- it was too much. You didn’t want to make a scene, but you needed some space; you hated being so hung up on a guy, but this was Spencer Reid. You told Derek you would return but needed some space and made your way to the hotel’s marble lobby, where you ordered a glass of chardonnay and sat by yourself. At least away from the team and the general festivities, you didn’t have to pretend to be happy.  

You only had fifteen minutes of wallowing and wine before Spencer, of all people, was walking towards you hurriedly. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked worriedly, “You left so I asked Derek what happened. He said he thought I’d find you here but that you weren’t doing so well.”

“It’s nothing, Spencer,” you replied because how could you explain? Spencer sat beside you, quite for a moment. You wished he’d just leave you alone- even just seeing him worry about you was filling your stomach with butterflies that had no hope for release.

“Derek, um, said something else...” Spencer finally said, quietly, “Y/N, I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t really important.” You already knew what it was, and were plotting your transfer and maybe even Derek’s murder, “Y/N, are you upset because of me?”

“Yes,” you sighed. It came out so softly you weren’t sure if he’d heard. Looking at his stricken expression, he had.

“But…you…” he couldn’t seem to articulate so he paused. Then he said, “Y/N, you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. The only thing more beautiful than your appearance is your heart. The only thing more captivating than your laugh is your intelligence. You knock me off kilter, you make me lose focus, you are the single thing I look forward to encountering every day- you’re the reason Saturday is my least favorite day of the week most weeks!” he was speaking quickly and incredulously and you had truly never been more surprised in your life.

“But Spencer, you barely even talk to me.  You didn’t even react to this” you gestured to your hair, makeup, dress and heels, “and it was all so you’d finally notice me!” you were exasperated and confused. He wasn’t allowed to say what you’d always wanted to hear if he wouldn’t act like it.

“For me?!” you almost saw Spencer’s eyes bug out of his head and man was he adorable dammit, “Y/N, I don’t talk to you because sometimes, it feels like I can’t form the words. I get so nervous and you’re always so warm and sweet. I never thought you’d feel this way about me. I’m a nerd, I don’t date often and certainly no one as amazing as you. And I didn’t react to how you look tonight, which is stunning by the way, because you are always stunning and you should never feel like you should do anything to alter your appearance for me. Not to say that I could take my eyes off you for a second tonight, but that’s always true.” 

You didn’t want to think anymore. Your head was spinning, but you felt happy. So happy. Finally, you looked up at Spencer and softly leaned in. He met your lips halfway and you stood together, deepening the kiss. His arms found their way around your waist and yours around his neck. It was like electricity- no kiss of your life had ever felt so right.

 And that is why Derek Morgan found you both, tied up in blankets at 4am, in the hotel room he knew you were staying in, when he was finally bringing your Go Bag up after leaving the event and the after party. But you’d never know that; no matter how much he teased, he’d let you two have this one.

[mastcomm]

Kobe and Gianna Bryant’s Bond Was Made of Love and Basketball

Playing against Kobe Bryant for 17 years convinced Jason Terry of one thing: He needed to prepare zealously before coaching against him for the first time.

So two weeks ahead of a January trip from Dallas to Southern California, Terry obtained video of Bryant’s Mamba Sports Academy girls’ basketball team for film study. Then he watched Bryant, his 13-year-old daughter, Gianna, and the rest of Team Mamba in person the day before the showdown.

“All I’m thinking is, ‘We’ve got to be really ready for this game,’” Terry said. “So I’m scouting them hard, taking my notes. Because if it’s going to be anything like the way he competed, he’s going to try to tear my heart out.”

The scouting mission was last Saturday, Jan. 25. The next morning, Terry’s Lady Drive Nation squad was in a van on its way to the Mamba Sports Academy in Thousand Oaks, Calif., for a noon tipoff. Word soon began to circulate that a helicopter transporting Bryant to the area had crashed into a Calabasas hillside.

Tournament play in the first-ever Mamba Cup came to a sudden halt, even before it was confirmed that the crash had killed all nine people aboard: Kobe and Gianna Bryant, two of Gianna’s teammates, three other parents, one assistant coach and the pilot.

“Being right where he was coming to, and knowing what he was coming for, is what I’m struggling with,” Terry said.

Terry, who played in the N.B.A. from the 1999-2000 season through 2017-18, is hardly alone. The basketball world is grieving like never before in the wake of a crash that claimed the life of the retired Kobe Bryant at 41, robbed Gianna Bryant of her promising future and shattered at least five families.

And then there’s the N.B.A. family.

February is always a marquee month in the N.B.A. The annual trade deadline falls on Thursday this season. All-Star Weekend, the league’s midseason party, commences a week later in Chicago. Yet neither occasion is generating anything close to its usual hoopla or anticipation amid the deep sorrow that has gripped those who play and work in the N.B.A. — with no way to forecast how long the pain will be felt so acutely.

“It’s sad every day,” Clippers forward Kawhi Leonard said.

As recently as August, Leonard and his new Clippers teammate Paul George were at the Mamba Sports Academy for their own sessions with the self-styled “Black Mamba,” seemingly as eager to learn from Bryant as Gianna and her teammates, including Alyssa Altobelli and Payton Chester, who also died in the crash.

“We grew up here,” George told reporters in Los Angeles. “He was our hero. He was our G.O.A.T.”

On Friday night at Staples, before the Lakers’ first game since the tragedy, LeBron James made a powerful four-minute speech in Bryant’s honor and then led his former team against the visiting Portland Trail Blazers — after the Lakers convinced the league office that Tuesday’s game against the Clippers had to be postponed.

It was too much, Lakers officials insisted, to ask players and club employees to stage a nationally televised game just two days after Bryant’s death.

Friday was still too soon for Portland’s grief-stricken Carmelo Anthony, who asked to skip the game at Staples. He had been scheduled to have dinner with Bryant in Los Angeles on Thursday night.

Terry understood completely. Upon returning home to Dallas, he found it difficult just to coach two games this week, for his high school girls’ team at North Dallas Adventist Academy.

“I was shaking going back into a gym,” Terry said. “My hands were literally shaking. I don’t know how the Lakers are going to do it.”

N.B.A. teams have confronted sudden death before. But they have done so sporadically, rarely during the season, and never on this scale — with a legend, children and family members involved.

The Boston Celtics lost their prized draft pick Len Bias to a drug overdose in 1986, before Bias ever played a game for them, then were rocked again in July 1993, when Reggie Lewis collapsed and died of a heart ailment during an off-season practice.

Bobby Phills of the Charlotte Hornets and Malik Sealy of the Minnesota Timberwolves were both killed in car crashes four months apart in 2000.

The ballhandler extraordinaire Pete Maravich, five times an N.B.A. All-Star in the 1970s and one of the most entertaining showmen in league history, died during a pickup game in 1988 at age 40 from a previously undetected heart defect. Maravich, like Bryant, was already retired.

In perhaps the closest parallel, the Nets’ star guard Drazen Petrovic was killed in a car accident in June 1993 while he was traveling abroad with the Croatian national team.

After a slow start to his N.B.A. career amid the league’s first wave of European imports, Petrovic, at 28, had just broken through to earn a spot on the all-N.B.A. third team for his play during the 1992-93 season. Petrovic was snubbed by Eastern Conference coaches for selection as a reserve in the All-Star Game, but the all-N.B.A. honor from the news media established him as one of the league’s top 15 players — to go with his status as the most feared player in the international game at the time.

“It was very, very difficult,” said Dallas Mavericks Coach Rick Carlisle, then an assistant coach with the Nets. “It happened overseas. It happened time zones away. Information wasn’t traveling as fast in those days.”

Carlisle, in fact, was among the Nets’ personnel who did not learn of Petrovic’s death until the day after it happened, two days before the start of the 1993 N.B.A. finals. A moment of silence in Petrovic’s honor was observed before Game 1 in Phoenix

Yet there is simply no blueprint to consult for coping with a sudden death like Bryant’s, given his stature as a singular force in the sport — basketball’s bridge between Michael Jordan and LeBron James — and how much more immediacy can be felt in a world made smaller by the day by technology.

Bryant may have been retired for nearly four years, but he had remained synonymous with the Lakers, with whom he spent his entire 20-year career and won five championships. Although a felony sexual assault charge in Colorado in July 2003 damaged his reputation and briefly appeared to threaten his career, Bryant would go on to establish himself as one of the most popular (if polarizing) players in the sport’s history and perhaps the world’s most prominent supporter of women’s basketball.

“It’s heartbreaking for all of us, but I’m not the only one dealing with something,” Nets guard Kyrie Irving said in a postgame interview with ESPN on Wednesday.

It was Irving’s first time back in the lineup since he had skipped Sunday’s game against the Knicks mere hours after the crash. Close to Bryant for years, Irving did manage, despite his grief, to call it “a beautiful thing” that the tragedy was “connecting all of us.”

Terry was certainly grateful for the connection with his old rival on the day before Bryant’s fateful helicopter ride. He hugged Bryant before that Saturday game, then sat courtside to scout.

“It was just amazing to see Kobe and Gigi interact, not only as father and daughter but as coach and player,” Terry said, using Gianna Bryant’s nickname. “She had his mannerisms. She had the same competitive drive.

“A lot of times at the eighth-grade level, there’s a lot of, ‘Go over here, go over there, pass the ball, shoot the ball.’ Kobe was doing none of that. There wasn’t a lot of yelling. You could tell he had spent a lot of time with those girls. They already knew what he expected of them.”

Terry, who began coaching girls’ basketball while he was still an N.B.A. player, has five daughters with his wife, Johnyika. Three of them made the trip — Jaida (15), Jasa (12) and Jrue (5) — but none were on the team that was to play Kobe’s.

Jaida Terry plays on a different high school team from the one her father coaches, but Jason Terry has been hoping to persuade her to at least play for him in summer ball.

“Originally we weren’t going to bring Jaida on the trip, but I surprised her at the last minute,” Terry said. “She really came to see Kobe in person, but this trip was also to ‘see how Dad coaches and see if I can play for him.’

“I’ve been trying to get her to play for me for about two years, because my older daughters played for me. When we got home, immediately, Jaida was like, ‘I’m playing for you this summer — no matter what.’”

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/kobe-and-gianna-bryants-bond-was-made-of-love-and-basketball/

[jessicaptain]

That is, of course, if that’s where she wants to be.

  Ever since I donned my first pair of cycling shorts, I noticed how few women there were in bike shops, on trails, and in organized rides. Per usual, women were a minority in the cycling industry. Four years later, we still are – and you can add racing to the list of the women’s shortage.

While I’ve met and ridden with a fair amount of awesome and supportive dudes, it’s always disheartening being one of the few women who race my bike. I know there are women out there, yearning for two-wheeled connection, inspired by competition, and aren’t finding it.

I first noticed the lack of women at bike races last year among the sea of Lycra-clad men nearly bursting at the seams with old-school bike-racing philosophy and sweaty testosterone. “Where are the women?” I wondered.

Surely, there are women on bikes, otherwise, there wouldn’t be brands like Liv, that build women-specific bikes. Then I wondered if there are tons of women already cycling, why weren’t more racing?

I joined the board of directors of Bicycle Racing Association of Colorado to help inspire change for women’s racing. In one of our monthly meetings we brought up the small numbers of women who raced in Colorado. We didn’t know. We couldn’t come up with a reason as to why there were women on bikes but the majority of them didn’t race.

I went to Facebook to find an answer; specifically, a Facebook group called Women Bike Colorado. There are 3,106 members in the group. I posed the question,“For ladies who don’t race their bikes, I’m wondering what your reason is not to.” (Read the blog I wrote about this for Bicycle Colorado here)

It generated 300-something comments, half of which were from some seriously offended women. The resounding attitude toward racing was that it’d take the fun out of cycling. Second and third to that was time and money. Women didn’t have either.

Then the race season started. I got distracted and didn’t follow-up with the data I collected from my one Facebook post. Plus, I wasn’t even sure what to do with it.

Last week, a teammate pointed out that the women’s SW 4/5 and juniors categories were nixed from the race schedule for the Louisville Crit. He pasted the announcement:

Saturday is the day (August 25th). Louisville is the place. Please read the flyer. Things have changed a bit since it was first published. Due to some constrictions placed by the town, the schedule had to be jumbled, shortened, and cut. Make sure you know if and when your group is participating. The race now starts at a leisurely 9 AM. As a special bonus, some of the stars from the Colorado Classic are going to drop by to race and/or hang out for the awards party, so you might get to see those riders you just watched all week. Pre-reg closes at 11:59 PM on Thursday night. Race Day Registration is available.

You didn’t know which categories were axed until you went to the flyer. I asked my teammate where he saw that as I scoured the BRAC website and social media outlets. My teammate pointed to the weekly BRAC newsletter. I asked my fellow BRAC board members about this change and for an explanation. Apparently, there was a wedding scheduled in the area and they complained about the bike race.

With a schedule cut 1.5 hours shorter than originally planned, the only categories that were affected were the Senior Women’s 4-5 and the junior girls categories. As this was a Master’s State Championship race, those categories were safe.

After I sent the group email, Audrey responded offering a revised schedule that stayed within the confines of the new time requirements, didn’t affect the Master’s categories, and still found a way to let Senior women 4-5 and junior girls race.

We couldn’t understand why this wasn’t thought of first before cutting out growing categories. We already know bike racing is waning, especially with Jelly Belly and UHC pulling their sponsorships on pro teams. If we want to keep the sport alive, we need to keep categories racing. We need to inspire more people to race. And we need to keep it fun.

I reached out to Barry, the race director for the Louisville Crit, and offered him the schedule Audrey presented me. Luckily, Barry was open to the idea and gave Shawn the final say in the new schedule. Everyone came together in the matter of eight hours to bring the categories back.

Our next biggest challenge was getting women there to race. I personally reached out to several influential women in my network and asked them to pass on the message: prove that women want to race. Don’t give anyone a reason to cut the category ever again. It reminded me of the poem by Martin Niemöller,

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—

    Because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—

    Because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—

    Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

Granted, this is nothing like the Holocaust, but the point is that when we don’t stand up for vulnerable populations, even if it doesn’t affect us, there will be no one left to speak for us later. I wasn’t a Cat 4 or 5, but I used to be. It reminded me of why I joined BRAC in the first place – to reestablish the Women’s Development Committee and improve bike racing for women through women’s programs and beginner racer programs. The results? 14 Cat 4-5 women showed up to race that day. The biggest women’s group that day. That’s what happens when women work together and look out for each other.

I remember when I started racing – not knowing anything about it. I didn’t even know what category to sign up for, licenses I needed, or what I needed for racing. I want to find a way to make it less intimidating for a woman to try bike racing. I want to make it exciting and fun; to give women confidence to take beyond bike racing.

We had our first Women’s Development Committee roundtable discussion this past Sunday. 12 enthusiastic and passionate women showed up to the Brew on Broadway with their ideas to improve women’s racing:

Upgrade points depend on the number of participants

State champ jerseys in men sizes

Shorter courses/times, unequal payouts

Promote BRAC/racing at women’s events

Grow racing by making it fun, supportive, and friendly

Need good promoters and sponsors

Barriers to entry: cost

Are there too many races not enough quality races?

Need to consider national events when scheduling races

Add mentoring program

1-2-3’s ride with beginners

Beginner Racer Program

4 races through the year (crit, road, time trial, hill climb)

Preview the course, cheer on the sides, and debrief afterward

Spring women’s clinics

Women’s-only race

Combining categories

Open Women’s categories

Make races more easy to find

Start community rides out of shops for recreational riders to ride with amateur racers

Give them the opportunity to ask questions and learn about the sport

Make it social

I’ve already begun the process of updating the Women’s Program page, working with BRAC Executive Director, Shawn Farrell in reestablishing the Beginner Racing Program/Women’s Program (BRP/WP), brainstorming race directors/races who are open to including the BRP/WP at races, and reaching out to organizations like 303cycling and Bicycling Colorado to see what we can do to grow bike racing, especially women’s bike racing, in Colorado.

As Margaret Thatcher said, “If you want something said, ask a man; if you want something done, ask a woman.”

If you’re passionate (or know someone who is) about women’s bike racing and want to be involved, email me: jdmcwhirt@gmail.com

The post A woman’s place is on two wheels appeared first on Jessica McWhirt.

[3one3]

The Sequel - 835

Hamburg

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“This fucking idiot. A 35% tariff on BMW’s made in Mexico just hurts consumers. BMW, Mercedes, and VW all BUILD CARS IN THE UNITED STATES. Ugh, jeezus. Find me an American. I need an American. There are tons of them at this show. Get me one.”

“Who let her read a newspaper during a NATO summit?”

“Who even reads newspapers?”

“Who scheduled her to do an on-camera interview with CNN Sport during a NATO summit?”

“You. That was you. You did that.”

The conversation at Team Schürrle’s temporary Hamburg stabling began with Christina’s enraged incredulity, included comments from Marcus, Kyle, and Tim, and then returned to the lady in the middle. She had a folding chair, two dogs, cold brew coffee, and regretfully for all those around her, a local newspaper with several pages worth of President Trump stories from the previous day’s NATO event, at which he characterized Germany as “bad, bad”. On the plus side for all, the weather was beautiful and so was the horse show. Christina had no idea how nice a venue she would have the opportunity to compete in. The Deutsches Spring-und Dressur-Derby was a fabulous event to experience, regardless of luck and results. Everything was green, and old, and pretty. Grass, trees, bushes, and traditional German architecture filled the sprawling property. The competition arena was huge- by far the largest she’d ever had the privilege to ride in, and so big she didn’t know how spectators could even see what was happening. That ring was the home of the famed Hamburg Derby, which she would tackle with Dirk on Sunday. The horse plan she shared with André earlier in the week was completely off. She was using Socks and Cartagena for the GCT classes, and Dirk was doing the 4* ones because they included the Derby and the qualifier for it. Not understanding her own entries ahead of time made her feel kind of stupid and negligent, but then the actual riding was so enjoyable that she forgot about it. Even the shady schooling ring was lovely.

Everyone loved her there. She was asked for an autograph and/or selfie every 12 yards when out in the wild around the show, and the line for her signature at the Longines Global Champions Tour souvenir tent was over an hour long. The boutique village had legitimately interesting things for sale, like patio furniture and place settings. Christina bought two large, handmade baskets for her barn office. What she would use them for, she had no idea, but they were very pretty and fitting with the decor in there. The dining options were many, varied, and delicious. There was a parade of foals by Olympic gold medal winning stallion Casall ASK, a legendary Holsteiner who would be retired at the end of the event. He was 19, and his planned retirement and its relevance to things on her mind  was the only thing bringing Christina down in Hamburg until she found out about all of the ridiculous things the leader of the free world did in Belgium. Her barn family was used to hearing her political rants, and so were Marcus and her coaches and some other colleagues. Her agent was pretty familiar too. So no one relaxing with her in the sun on Friday afternoon was surprised to see her fold and wave her newspaper around while she railed against the American president. Lukas was the one who didn’t like it. He arrived at the side of her chair with a concerned pout and filthy hands. He’d been using them, and a stick, to dig a hole to bury a large rock he found, reason unknown. Espen had to hold the rock. He wouldn’t let her put it down. Spencer lifted his head from Christina’s lap to sniff the little boy’s brown hands.

“Mommy?”

“Mommy is trying to show us all that she should have had a more political career,” Marcus told him.

“What’s up, Munchkin?” His sometimes teammate and sometimes rival leaned over to smooch her platinum blonde son. She smiled at him so he would know everything was fine. I can’t believe how big he’s getting, she rued about the boy just a week shy of his second birthday. I shouldn’t be able to reach him from the chair like this. When did he get tall enough that I can actually see leg between his shorts and his socks besides his knees? Ohgodno don’t drink that! “Not for you. Nuh-uh. You know not to have other people’s drinks,” Christina gently chided when Lukas stood on his tiptoes to try to get to the straw in her coffee in the built-in cup holder. No caffeine for the baby...who isn’t a baby anymore...sad face. “Do you want some water?”

“Yes please.” He nodded and then, without warning, started trying to climb into her lap. That involved putting his dirty hands all over her white breeches, and disturbing the Toy Fox Terriers occupying 100% of her lap. Mom opened her mouth to complain and then shut it again. It was too late. Nothing she said would remove the brown hand prints, and he wouldn’t understand if she tried to explain that she couldn’t get him water if he was sitting on her.

“I’ll get it,” Espen volunteered sympathetically.

“Mommy, can I have eye-scream?”

“Does anyone think I can get to the Dippin’ Dots tent without being recognized and without someone tweeting or Instagram-ing a picture of me there and 40 people showing up for selfies before I even get to the head of the line?” Christina dropped her newspaper on the grass and winced at Lukas’ knee in her stomach. He was trying to turn around and sit with his back to her front, and her level of horizontalness made it precarious for him, like crawling on a diving board. She relocated the coffee to the ground too, and waved Lucky away from it. Both dogs’ leashes were tethered to the base of her chair, and both looked unhappy about being made to get up from their naps. Their eyes were squinty against the sun, and they appeared to be looking for another place to lie down. I could get them ice cream too. The doggie accessory boutique has doggie ice cream cups, she remembered.

“Maybe if you don’t take the child wearing the shirt with your name on the back.” Marcus raised an eyebrow in her direction pointedly, reminding her that Lukas was wearing one of his BVB shirts with his dad’s name and number. It was supposed to be for Saturday- Pokalfinale day- but he wanted to wear it Friday too.

“But he could be any little Schü fan,” the biggest Schü fan in the world argued. She was still working out how to watch Chelsea and Borussia Dortmund compete in their respective cup finals, and qualifying for the Monaco Grand Prix, and compete all day.

“You haven’t got time anyway,” Kyle yawned in the process of getting up from his chair. He was the only one with a direct line of sight into the stabling tent. Espen came back from her trip in there to get the water, and poured some in a large plastic cup for the boy further dirtying his mom’s pants with his sneakers. He thanked her, and both women went to rub his head affectionately. “Dirk is about to be ready for you.”

“Do you want to have ice cream later with me?” Christina asked him. I hate when he’s good and he wants something and I don’t have time and either have to say “no” or let him get it or do it with the nanny instead, she whined to herself. I have to do Dirkmeister in this qualifier and then I have a few hours off before Socks. I’m doing the CNN Sport interview for the federation in there too but it can’t take that long, right? The rider looked to her agent while Lukas downed water. “Is that okay? I’m not having dinner with you tonight because I have to go to a party. Can we have ice cream after Mommy rides Dirk?”

“Kaaay.” He handed her the blue cup and then her Rolex Oyster Perpetual Pearlmaster caught his eye. He held onto the rose gold watch on her wrist and leaned over to inspect it, perhaps interested in the little diamonds spaced generously around the black face, or just the shine of it in the sun. Christina found out she could trade in the boring and generic men’s Rolex timepieces she’d won and left in their prize-boxes for one that she actually wanted to wear. The rather large model she picked out arrived at home while she was in Madrid. André told her not to take it to the horse show, and to save it as her one nice watch that wouldn’t go to the barn and become “all horsey”. She was too enamored with it to leave it home, and she liked irritating the Longines people in charge of public events. One of them asked her to take off the rival’s product before she sat for a press conference on Wednesday, and she declined. They asked her to take her IWC off a hundred times too, just as unsuccessfully. Tim told her to keep wearing it. She was very excited when she showed it to him, and he said she should stick with it because she looked “way happier than” he’d seen her “about anything in a long time”, and because she’d already won two classes at that point, one each with Dirk and Cartagena. Christina looked really good in rose gold and diamonds, and her favorite stallion looked great in a black and silver Mercedes Benz-branded winner’s dress sheet.

She didn’t put a lot of credence in what Tim said- not the part about her looking happy, at least. He’d hardly seen her much in recent times, and she was sure he wasn’t watching her ride online, or scouring the Internet for pictures after each event. Someone else in his office updated her website gallery with videos and photos. Her best guess was that he just wanted to be flattering, and suck up a bit, and her second guess was that André talked to him a lot about her being unhappy, particularly in terms of equine matters.

What the footballer said was much more real to her. He told her after her second win of the week that she was doing what he suggested- starting a good run of form. He said she needed to reap all the confidence on offer, and use it to keep winning. Naturally Christina rolled her eyes and told him it’s not that literal, or easy for that matter, but inside she felt good about it, and believed he was right, and hoped she really could harness some good feeling from those early, insignificant results and turn it into great performances and wins in more important classes. Winning her first ever class with Cartagena really did stroke her ego anyway. His owner was delighted and impressed. André really was too. He wasn’t just providing lip service. His wife’s success with the Cento son was of particular import to him because he’d watched them learn each other from the beginning.

“Are you changing for the party?” Kyle inquired, stretching his back in an elaborate and slightly obscene, hip-thrusting sort of way. He was having a lazy horse show, really, as Holger loaned Team Schürrle a groom for the week to take care of Julian, Jelly Bean, and Calvin.

“Nope. Stef and I brought dresses, but nope. Where is she?”

“I think she was looking at the foals with Ally and my wife,” Marcus interjected. He was getting up too. They all had a course to walk shortly.

“Hey Munchkin do you wanna call Daddy while I have a few minutes still? They might be doing their training at the stadium. We can try though. Wanna talk to Daddy?” Christina knew offering up Daddy with no guarantee of being able to reach Daddy was risky, and could result in a tantrum, but Lukas was liking Hamburg too. He was relaxed and enjoying the new sights. Some of her friends’ little kids were around for him to meet and play with, he got his face painted on Thursday, his mom let him eat junk food, and she had a decent amount of time to spend with him throughout the day. She worried a little on the long drive up there that André was onto something when he asked what she did to keep him entertained at shows. It was the first time it occurred to her that her little one might not really like going to them, or that it wasn’t fair to drag him along. His growing awareness made it harder to keep him preoccupied and happy, and letting him get bored was like an invitation for misbehavior and accidentally bad behavior, so it was important to be able to keep him stimulated one way or another, and then to give him enough good quality rest to recover from all the stimulation. Lukas certainly seemed content, and Espen didn’t report anything worrying. Christina felt some need to keep reassuring her partner of that, and also just wanted to talk to him.

She saw that he went on a “Like” spree on Instagram earlier of a bunch of fan-made collages of the two of them together, with cute quotes and stickers. That made her smile. He also formally accepted her plan to spend that 5-day spell on the boat with Juan. He said he was okay with it, and that he was going to use that time to go to Miami with Marco and some of his friends, and two of is own friends he was able to reconnect with since moving to Dortmund. They were going to get some sun, eat great food, check out the famed South Beach nightlife, and generally unwind in the testosterone-filled kind of way André hadn’t done in a long, long time. It would be different than spending a month with his friends and teammates for a summer tournament, and different from going away with his wife and his friends at the same time. His parents were going to take Lukas to Milan to hang out with Melanie and the newest member of the family for the week. Christina really appreciated that her oft-of-late tone deaf partner found a way to make it possible for them both to get to do something with their friends and not leave the other out, at home, alone, babysitting. It was important to frame it as such too. It mattered that their separate holidays were billed as holidays with friends. Then it wasn’t like she was going away with her boyfriend. André had every right to hold a grudge, and stay home and sulk and constantly remind her of his displeasure about it. He didn’t want to do that, and his girl was thankful.

“He didn’t answer, Luke. Do you want to leave him a message? Here. Say “Hi Daddy!”” She put her phone on speaker so Lukas could leave his dad an annoying voicemail, and then apologized to him for having to get up and go do things other than hang out with him. Espen and the child got to take the dogs though, so he wasn’t too disappointed. Christina took a detour to the massive grass ring and derby field to use the bathroom instead of walking over with her mentor and her student, and decided to use her hopefully lonely journey to reach her other favorite player preparing for a cup final. Being on the phone had some deterrent effect on the people seeking her autograph, so that was an added bonus once she got clear of the horse-people-only zone.

“Hey, angel. I was just thinking about you.”

“Liar.”

“No, I was. I put underpants on and they felt very small. Because they were yours, not mine. My butt doesn’t look as good in them as yours.”

“Don’t make me you know what while I’m still wearing undies and then they won’t end up in your laundry and then they won’t end up in your drawer and then you won’t accidentally put them on.”

“Uhhuh.”

“What else are you doing besides wearing girls’ underwear?”

“Getting ready to go to the last training of the season!”

“You have to win. I can’t stand losing to Arsenal.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“In other news, guess who I saw when I stopped into the VIP tent to make nice with the people who own Socks.”

“Elvis.”

“Lex.”

“No.”

“Yes. Did you know Hamburg is like, a minor fashion capital?”

“No, but I’m happy that Lex is now a minor fashion designer.”

“Oooo burn,” Christina laughed. Then she realized people were looking at her as she passed through the champagne tent- part of her shortcut to the ring- and steeled her face so as to appear more serious and absorbed in her phone call. Having fans was great, and she did appreciate them, but she was really tired of being in selfies, and really tired of people who just hurried up to her and tried to take the picture without even saying anything. People who approached her and asked if she minded being in the snap were okay, and those who politely said “hello” and tried to have even a basic conversation were preferable. Some of her Twitter fans kept her mentions full with Tweets about her being caught on her phone all the time. They made a game of guessing whom she was talking to, or what she was talking about. Some of it was funny. Some of it was obscene.

“Did you speak with her?” Juan was always sarcastic about his ex-fiancé, and annoyingly also always kind of interested whenever she came up.

“Nope. She didn’t see me either. I expect she’ll be at this party later that is supposed to be for riders but is really for VIP’s to get access to riders.”

“Oh. Give her my best if you see her again.”

“Really?”

“No,” he snorted. “Steer clear of her. You don’t need the drama, cariña. Focus on yourself, and your horses.”

“I knooooow. Everyone is all over me with the motivational advice this week. I wish you would all-“

“I know, I know, you know what you’re doing.”

“Yes.”

“I need to go and I’ll lose the call in the elevator. Message me later after your party.”

“K.”

“Good luck.”

“You too!”

Only one of them ended up needing luck, and weirdly it was the one who’d just won a major title, earned more league wins than any other team, and Champions League football for the next year. Chelsea were lousy at Wembley. Christina told her son that they were lucky their parade got canceled for security reasons because it looked like they’d all be too lazy to show up for it. Arsenal outplayed them in every way. The Blues rallied in the second half with a Diego goal, but they were already down to 10 men thanks to some Victor Moses stupidity, and the other London club came back at them almost immediately. The pitch was over-watered and everyone slipped a lot. It was hot. The score could have been 6-6, but it wasn’t. It was 2-1 and there was no double for Chelsea FC. Christina’s Global Champions League team got their double, however. She and her teammate finished the second round in the same position as the first- the top. Socks was also second in the Grand Prix, and could have won. His rider did a noble thing. Four other riders were clean in the jump off and the fastest of them before her turn was Ralf-Goran Bengtsson, aboard Casall ASK, the horse whose retirement ceremony would follow the prize giving. Socks had enough in the tank to hustle, and the track wasn’t all that difficult. Christina touched her brake pedal just a teeny, tiny bit on the gallop to the last fence- enough to ensure that the Holsteiner stallion’s final bow would be as a winner.

She never thought she would do that, but the headline was too good to let go to waste. The points didn’t matter to her anyway. She’d already decided that defending her Tour title wasn’t important to her, and that she wouldn’t stress about it. The Olympics was the only real goal for the whole year. Everything before the Games was preparation, and everything after didn’t matter. Christina didn’t tell anyone about what she did. Juan got some consoling during halftime in Berlin. His friend, or girlfriend, or partner, or whatever he thought of her as, said nothing about her day at all, and he didn’t ask. That was fine. He was down, and a bit angry. There was no need to talk about herself.

Then André trumped them both and won himself a big golden cup. Really, his teammates won it for him. He didn’t get to play despite being included in the substitutes. Marco and Schmelle suffered first-half injuries that prevented them from returning for the second, so Tuchel burned two substitutions on 45’. Marc had to come off injured or exhausted later too. The black and yellow side scored early, conceded an equalizer shortly thereafter, and then fought and fought and fought and finally got a winner through the league’s top scorer, Auba. No team was more deserving of a prize than Borussia Dortmund, Christina thought. They’d been through so much, and suffered so many problems, some in the form of heinous criminal activity and some in the form of what she considered criminal defensive organization, or lack thereof. Marco had been waiting for a trophy with the club- with any club- forever. He was by far the happiest person on the planet on Saturday night. Even with his potentially quite serious knee injury, he ran around with his teammates, kissed the trophy, hugged the trophy, hoisted the trophy a million times, sang to the trophy, and, his friend assumed, would take it home and sleep with it.

André was happy. He celebrated with the other Bees, but not like it was the best night of his life. He hung in the back of some of the photos, and let others enjoy the cup. As he told Christina before the game, he didn’t wholly feel like a part of the team. She argued that he wasn’t out that long and that it just felt that way. It felt like he missed so much of the season that he didn’t contribute much to it. The rider went through the footballer’s BVB highlights to prove that wasn’t true. Still, she was almost proud of him for having perspective, and for not inserting himself in the middle of the celebrations. That gold cup meant a lot more to some of those other guys. They’d been there longer, fought harder, scored more, and suffered other heartbreaking cup final losses. Christina was proud of her partner for getting himself fit enough to be in the team, too. His manager had to have been as well. Nuri Sahin was left out. He was arguably a more useful asset to have on the bench than another forward who hadn’t played in almost two months. Tuchel rewarded André for his hard work. His girl wanted to inflate his ego about that too, and fawn over him, and dote on him like a DFB Pokal champion. It was impossible to get him on the phone again after his initial “HEY WE WON I LOVE YOU I’M POURING BEER ON SOMEONE GOTTA GO” call though. She stayed up for a while after saying goodnight to Tim and some of the others who watched the match in the hotel bar with her, waiting for André to get to his hotel room and call again, or for the partying on the bus to wind down enough that he might actually be able to talk on the phone. It was after midnight when hers finally vibrated on the next pillow.

“I’m just changing to go down to our party,” the German explained to his sleepy wife after the second round of congratulations. “I wish you were here! Everyone else has a date!”

“I wish I was there too,” Christina yawned. Thank god I don’t have to ride until 2:30 tomorrow, she thought, already mentally pushing her morning schedule back.

“We’ll celebrate tomorrow, you and me,” André smiled. “Hey! It’s your birthday already! Happy birthday, Prinzessin. I got you a very large gold cup with some precious stones on it.”

“Thank you. I figured out what I want, by the way.”

“What?”

“To not go to St. Gallen on Wednesday.”

“Aww. Tired?” He was still too pumped about the victory and the partying to take advantage of her cracking, and harass her about the fact that she dictated her own schedule and didn’t have to go anywhere she didn’t want.

“I’m tired like in general from the day, and I’m tired of hotel rooms and catered food. I’m going to try to give myself a birthday present and ask Heiner if Stef can take my place on the team. She’s doing so well with Jules and he can definitely jump two weeks in a row.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wanna be home with you.” The sleepy equestrian’s voice was thin and quiet and childlike, and it made him wonder why she was almost embarrassed to say she wanted to edit her schedule and get some rest at home with her family. She and her horses had been showing for three weeks already and there was only one break in the next 8 to come. That was the one between Cannes and Monaco, when they’d be on the boat together, so that wasn’t even a chance to be home. It was also two times in a row that Christina was shy or hesitant about letting him know that she wanted to spend more time with him. She was weird about staying up late earlier in the week because she wanted to interact with him longer instead of going to sleep. I’m happy that she wants this, he told himself before challenging the idea too. It’s like she thinks there’s something wrong with it though. It’s like she decided she doesn’t want that, so then when she realizes she does, she’s betraying herself? I can’t tell if she’s reluctant, or...what. “Babe?”

“Well I’d love to have you home, obviously,” he hastened to assure her. “Are you sure it’s what you want? You’re not going to get upset in a few weeks when a show goes badly and yell at me that I made you skip something to stay home and it ruined your plan, or-“

“No,” Christina chuckled. “I promise. I’ve weighed all that already. I’m tired. Tom is tired. The horses have such a long summer in front of them. St. Gallen isn’t a big deal. It’s up to Heiner though. They did well in Rome yesterday so he should be okay with it, maybe.”  

“I got you a t-shirt.”

“What?”

“Like the ones we put on to celebrate. I got you the girls’ one, and a tiny one for Mausi.” André looked away from the mirror over the desk and eyed the two yellow shirts by his suitcase. He kept the one he wore separate, because it smelled like beer. Deep down, he was a little relieved to be on the outskirts of the victory. It would have been disappointing to have played his heart out to help get the win and then not had his family there to celebrate with him. We’ll play in the Supercup now. She has to be there for that. Except she can’t be, because she’ll be at the Olympics.

“Oh, neat. Thanks. Lukas likes the new kit. He won’t take it off. Maybe he’ll give it up in exchange for a new t-shirt, and then I can wash it. He’s obsessed with digging right now, so he’s constantly covered in dirt.”

“Sorry. He got that from me. You’ve seen the pictures.”

“Yeah,” his girl smiled.

“I have to go to the party now. I’m already late.”

“I’m really proud of you babe, for like, how you handled yourself today, and for doing everything to get fit. I know if they had needed you today, you would have been ready,” Christina told him, sincere and soft. “Other guys would look at the injury and look at the calendar and think they got an advance on their holidays.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.” Especially since you were side-eyeing me for being happy about goals and wins before.

“Enjoy the party. Take lots of embarrassing pictures of Marco.”

“I love you.”

“You too. Wait! Will you be able to watch the Derby tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry, Prinzessin, I can’t. We have the parade.”

“Oh. I forgot.”

“I’ll watch your round with you when you get home.”

“Yeah.”

[mastcomm]

Kobe and Gianna Bryant’s Bond Was Made of Love and Basketball

Playing against Kobe Bryant for 17 years convinced Jason Terry of one thing: He needed to prepare zealously before coaching against him for the first time.

So two weeks ahead of a January trip from Dallas to Southern California, Terry obtained video of Bryant’s Mamba Sports Academy girls’ basketball team for film study. Then he watched Bryant, his 13-year-old daughter, Gianna, and the rest of Team Mamba in person the day before the showdown.

“All I’m thinking is, ‘We’ve got to be really ready for this game,’” Terry said. “So I’m scouting them hard, taking my notes. Because if it’s going to be anything like the way he competed, he’s going to try to tear my heart out.”

The scouting mission was last Saturday, Jan. 25. The next morning, Terry’s Lady Drive Nation squad was in a van on its way to the Mamba Sports Academy in Thousand Oaks, Calif., for a noon tipoff. Word soon began to circulate that a helicopter transporting Bryant to the area had crashed into a Calabasas hillside.

Tournament play in the first-ever Mamba Cup came to a sudden halt, even before it was confirmed that the crash had killed all nine people aboard: Kobe and Gianna Bryant, two of Gianna’s teammates, three other parents, one assistant coach and the pilot.

“Being right where he was coming to, and knowing what he was coming for, is what I’m struggling with,” Terry said.

Terry, who played in the N.B.A. from the 1999-2000 season through 2017-18, is hardly alone. The basketball world is grieving like never before in the wake of a crash that claimed the life of the retired Kobe Bryant at 41, robbed Gianna Bryant of her promising future and shattered at least five families.

And then there’s the N.B.A. family.

February is always a marquee month in the N.B.A. The annual trade deadline falls on Thursday this season. All-Star Weekend, the league’s midseason party, commences a week later in Chicago. Yet neither occasion is generating anything close to its usual hoopla or anticipation amid the deep sorrow that has gripped those who play and work in the N.B.A. — with no way to forecast how long the pain will be felt so acutely.

“It’s sad every day,” Clippers forward Kawhi Leonard said.

As recently as August, Leonard and his new Clippers teammate Paul George were at the Mamba Sports Academy for their own sessions with the self-styled “Black Mamba,” seemingly as eager to learn from Bryant as Gianna and her teammates, including Alyssa Altobelli and Payton Chester, who also died in the crash.

“We grew up here,” George told reporters in Los Angeles. “He was our hero. He was our G.O.A.T.”

On Friday night at Staples, before the Lakers’ first game since the tragedy, LeBron James made a powerful four-minute speech in Bryant’s honor and then led his former team against the visiting Portland Trail Blazers — after the Lakers convinced the league office that Tuesday’s game against the Clippers had to be postponed.

It was too much, Lakers officials insisted, to ask players and club employees to stage a nationally televised game just two days after Bryant’s death.

Friday was still too soon for Portland’s grief-stricken Carmelo Anthony, who asked to skip the game at Staples. He had been scheduled to have dinner with Bryant in Los Angeles on Thursday night.

Terry understood completely. Upon returning home to Dallas, he found it difficult just to coach two games this week, for his high school girls’ team at North Dallas Adventist Academy.

“I was shaking going back into a gym,” Terry said. “My hands were literally shaking. I don’t know how the Lakers are going to do it.”

N.B.A. teams have confronted sudden death before. But they have done so sporadically, rarely during the season, and never on this scale — with a legend, children and family members involved.

The Boston Celtics lost their prized draft pick Len Bias to a drug overdose in 1986, before Bias ever played a game for them, then were rocked again in July 1993, when Reggie Lewis collapsed and died of a heart ailment during an off-season practice.

Bobby Phills of the Charlotte Hornets and Malik Sealy of the Minnesota Timberwolves were both killed in car crashes four months apart in 2000.

The ballhandler extraordinaire Pete Maravich, five times an N.B.A. All-Star in the 1970s and one of the most entertaining showmen in league history, died during a pickup game in 1988 at age 40 from a previously undetected heart defect. Maravich, like Bryant, was already retired.

In perhaps the closest parallel, the Nets’ star guard Drazen Petrovic was killed in a car accident in June 1993 while he was traveling abroad with the Croatian national team.

After a slow start to his N.B.A. career amid the league’s first wave of European imports, Petrovic, at 28, had just broken through to earn a spot on the all-N.B.A. third team for his play during the 1992-93 season. Petrovic was snubbed by Eastern Conference coaches for selection as a reserve in the All-Star Game, but the all-N.B.A. honor from the news media established him as one of the league’s top 15 players — to go with his status as the most feared player in the international game at the time.

“It was very, very difficult,” said Dallas Mavericks Coach Rick Carlisle, then an assistant coach with the Nets. “It happened overseas. It happened time zones away. Information wasn’t traveling as fast in those days.”

Carlisle, in fact, was among the Nets’ personnel who did not learn of Petrovic’s death until the day after it happened, two days before the start of the 1993 N.B.A. finals. A moment of silence in Petrovic’s honor was observed before Game 1 in Phoenix

Yet there is simply no blueprint to consult for coping with a sudden death like Bryant’s, given his stature as a singular force in the sport — basketball’s bridge between Michael Jordan and LeBron James — and how much more immediacy can be felt in a world made smaller by the day by technology.

Bryant may have been retired for nearly four years, but he had remained synonymous with the Lakers, with whom he spent his entire 20-year career and won five championships. Although a felony sexual assault charge in Colorado in July 2003 damaged his reputation and briefly appeared to threaten his career, Bryant would go on to establish himself as one of the most popular (if polarizing) players in the sport’s history and perhaps the world’s most prominent supporter of women’s basketball.

“It’s heartbreaking for all of us, but I’m not the only one dealing with something,” Nets guard Kyrie Irving said in a postgame interview with ESPN on Wednesday.

It was Irving’s first time back in the lineup since he had skipped Sunday’s game against the Knicks mere hours after the crash. Close to Bryant for years, Irving did manage, despite his grief, to call it “a beautiful thing” that the tragedy was “connecting all of us.”

Terry was certainly grateful for the connection with his old rival on the day before Bryant’s fateful helicopter ride. He hugged Bryant before that Saturday game, then sat courtside to scout.

“It was just amazing to see Kobe and Gigi interact, not only as father and daughter but as coach and player,” Terry said, using Gianna Bryant’s nickname. “She had his mannerisms. She had the same competitive drive.

“A lot of times at the eighth-grade level, there’s a lot of, ‘Go over here, go over there, pass the ball, shoot the ball.’ Kobe was doing none of that. There wasn’t a lot of yelling. You could tell he had spent a lot of time with those girls. They already knew what he expected of them.”

Terry, who began coaching girls’ basketball while he was still an N.B.A. player, has five daughters with his wife, Johnyika. Three of them made the trip — Jaida (15), Jasa (12) and Jrue (5) — but none were on the team that was to play Kobe’s.

Jaida Terry plays on a different high school team from the one her father coaches, but Jason Terry has been hoping to persuade her to at least play for him in summer ball.

“Originally we weren’t going to bring Jaida on the trip, but I surprised her at the last minute,” Terry said. “She really came to see Kobe in person, but this trip was also to ‘see how Dad coaches and see if I can play for him.’

“I’ve been trying to get her to play for me for about two years, because my older daughters played for me. When we got home, immediately, Jaida was like, ‘I’m playing for you this summer — no matter what.’”

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