#i average like. 6 if my teammates are basically gone

[katanation]

splatoon rando teammates: we inked our home base

me, dying at the front lines with our one other teammate, in a 2v4 for mid for the past minute: wow. thanks

splatoon rando teammates: oh no, theres ink from the enemies!! lets clean that

me, dying:

the enemies, after killing me, 4ft away from them:

[bottomlouisficfest]

We hope you’ve enjoyed the fics from weeks 5-6 of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2023! Every two weeks, we’re compiling all of the fics from that period into one roundup post so they’re easy to find for anyone looking to catch up on fics they missed. Enjoy these amazing fics and give them the love they deserve!

splash me across the silver screen

A fic by pleasinglouis on AO3 | @pleasing-louis on Tumblr | @pleasing_louis on Twitter

23k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry shrugged. “Maybe you just need to get even more outside your comfort zone. Maybe we need to try something a bit more… adventurous?” Curiosity successfully piqued, Louis tilted his head and toyed with the fringe dangling from his lace shrug. “Like what?" “We, uhm—maybe we try filming you in more compromising positions,” Harry suggested carefully. He kept his tone low and even as he studied Louis’ expression, hands skating over his curves soothingly. If Louis didn’t know any better he might have thought that Harry was talking about filming him naked. But that couldn’t be right—could it? “Like porn?” Or Louis is a struggling actor who gets nervous when he's being filmed and Harry comes up with a plan to help him relax when the cameras are rolling.

--

Spiders Don't Fly But Gods Do

A fic by SunshineBoy742 on AO3

7k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis Tomlinson is an underpaid photojournalist in NYC. He leads a pretty average life, getting shots of town heroes, dodging flirtatious remarks from old coworkers and being the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. But what happens when a sex god comes to crash in his apartment?

--

i've got something to confess, i keep you in my pocket to use

A fic by babylwt on AO3 | @finelineangie on Twitter

17k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

"You made Harry Styles practically swoon over you, admit you’re beautiful to basically the world, he asked for your number and you said no. Like, you have to be joking.” Bella tsks as she sits up straight, grabbing Louis’ computer off his lap and putting it off to the side. Louis moves to reach for it, sighing in defeat as he leans back against his pillows. “You know how it goes with those sports guys. They’re just after having a good time before they have to go to the next city and play another game and find another person to swoon.” Louis explains. “It just wouldn’t have worked and I’m too busy right now.” Louis shrugs. “Too busy to fuck Harry Styles?” Bella asks with a raised brow. “Yes, even too busy to fuck Harry Styles.” Or Prompt 251: Harry is a hockey player and he's in the middle of a press conference when Louis, a journalist, asks him a question. Harry sees him ans says something like "oh my god, he's so beautiful" to his teammate and only realized his mic was on when the pretty boy blushes and the room breaks in a laugh

--

The Knothead Neighbor

A fic by Kbbean on AO3 | @Kristen09924842 on Twitter

8k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

This was my prompt: Prompt 3: Neighbors AU, preferably ABO! Harry works evenings/nights (maybe like a surgeon something that requires him to be gone for long hours) and has a cat. The cat has a little kitty door at the back so that it can explore and such. Louis just moved next door and the cat seems to always end up at his door. Eventually, Louis lets the cat in, as he’s new and he’s feeling quite lonely. They become fast friends, so much so that the cat prefers to stay with Louis rather than go home. Harry gets concerned that the cat starts to stay out all day/night so he eventually leaves a note attached to the cat’s collar with its name and phone number. Louis texts him telling him he’s his neighbor and not to worry, the cat just likes to hang with him as it might be lonely. Harry gets pissed that this stranger is stealing his cat so he goes to confront Louis and tell him to stop stealing his cat. Of course, as soon as he sees Louis, he falls in love with him and the rest is history. (If ABO could be cute that both Harry and Louis like to cuddle with the cat because it holds the other’s scent)

--

I found an angel so divine

A fic by april_iris on AO3 | @april_kmm on Twitter

31k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Arishem should have abducted a human instead, to fiddle with their memory. Would have been more effective.” Thena, who had been staring into space for a few minutes, looked up. “Why don’t we just bring a human with us?” Everyone turned to stare at her. “What?” she retorted sternly. “Why not introduce him directly to a human being, so he can see how special the human race is?” Pip, who had dozed off against a wall with his pint still in hand, woke up with a start, while Druig tried to make sense of Thena’s words. “Not a bad idea, but what human being could be worthy enough to represent the rest of humanity?” Angel. Eros thought. “Louis!” Pip shouted. Or Eros/Harry is a dreamboat with singular powers who loves love more than anything and longs to feel it one day, and Louis is the kind human who shows him the way.

--

always had that heart of mine

A fic by localopa on AO3 | @voulezloux on Tumblr

8k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

louis is nesting, though he won’t admit to it. between being ill, the stress of uni, and near drops, the only thing keeping him afloat is harry’s scent. the fact they don’t get along is neither here nor there

--

you know it ain't fiction, just a natural fact

A fic by anditsonlyforthebrave on AO3 | @HARRYSC1NEMA on Twitter

13k | Not Rated | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Look, Lou” Harry whispers, “I can’t do it, and as much as I like having dinner with you, and hanging out, I think we should just do it without the tutoring part because I am not smart enough for school.” “That’s bullshit,” Louis answers quickly, “what do you like?” he asks, “I mean, other than football and asking me stuff about my family. There must be something else you’re good at.” “I play football and fuck, Louis. That’s it.” Louis definitely doesn’t flinch at that. He does not. --- Harry is the golden boy of the college football's team, Louis is their professors' golden student and they definitely don't have anything in common. Falling in love would be dumb.

--

The Bluest war and peace

A fic by Hazzaslittle28 on AO3 | @hazzaslittle28 on Tumblr | @Hazzaslittle28 on Twitter

27k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

For centuries the Black Haven pack had a tradition where the first born omegas and alphas were to be introduced to each other. The pups were barely ten, dressed in their finest clothings and made to look presentable. That's when he first saw his ruins and he knew that he was never going to be the same.

--

could start a cult

A fic by nouies on AO3 | @nouies on Tumblr | @_nouies on Twitter

9k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

He lowers down the top that Louis is wearing, successfully unclasping his nursing bra as well, letting Louis’ tits bounce at the sudden movement. Harry massages both breasts to stimulate the milk flow, and he can feel his cock hardening inside his pants. or...Harry can’t get enough of Louis’ breast milk.

--

Deleted Scenes

A fic by Stria (Asia117) on AO3 | @nooradeservedbetter on Tumblr | @Striaaaaaaaaa on Twitter

34k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Do you trust me?” asks Louis in a whisper, mouth pressed on the crown of Harry’s head. His voice has that raw quality to it that Harry has only heard a few times, and he takes a deep breath. “I do,” he responds, and he could add something to keep up the charade, tell Louis that of course he does, he’s here for him, to support him, but he doesn’t really feel like doing anything. He’s going away in a very short while, after all. He can’t find the strength to keep up the farce. “I told you everything would be alright,” says Louis. “I told you we will be alright. Do you trust me on this?” Harry hesitates. He feels Louis’ arms tighten around him, and he brings one of his hands over Louis’. He doesn’t want to lie, he doesn’t. Agent Harry Styles was injured on the job a few months back, and gets roped in one last mission before he can retire prematurely: playing house with Louis, a widower who has amnesia. The assignment seems simple at the beginning, but soon enough Harry's twisted in a web of his own making, and can't get out anymore.

--

Remember to give these fics kudos and comments, and spread their fic posts!

--

All roundups will be linked here:

Weeks 1-2 Roundup

Weeks 3-4 Roundup

Weeks 5-6 Roundup

Weeks 7-8 Roundup

Weeks 9-10 Roundup

Week 11 Roundup

[team-heavenly]

And Now, An Interlude

I did coast through Blizzard Island pretty quick, but my next week or so is kind of insane. I'm out of state from 11/6-11/9 and I'm honestly not sure I can get the arc posted before then :(

But for every cloud, there's a silver lining. I definitely have time to share the nonsense I got into while I was stitching together the Sky Peak post. I really wanted to keep playing the game but without advancing the plot and getting ahead of the blog, so... I improvised.

This picture is basically the theme of the post so enjoy lol

(No, we did not recruit her unfortunately 😔)

First, I want to share some teammates I snagged... and some I lost.

LOOK AT THIS GOD TIER STARAPTOR. Literally the GOAT. I was so, so upset when our client Pidgeotto later got destroyed by a Monster House. I suppose I could have gone through with the defeat, but the risk of losing more than a few exclusive items just wasn't worth it.

But we did get to keep someone I'm pretty sure is Young Guildmaster Wigglytuff:

And HE COULD LEARN ROAR OF TIME. SO I SAID "SURE WHY NOT" AND GAVE HIM THE TM.

It's not a practical set of moves by any means (confusion from Petal Dance (which missed a whole ton anyway), 30% accuracy on Fissure, low PP and stall after using Roar of Time), but definitely fun to play with.

Andrea also tried learning Vine Whip upon level up, but... It wasn't very strong, so I passed on it. Honestly, unless she gets something incredible, I'm thinking her current move set is final.

...Yeah, I told you this was gonna be a common thread. Thankfully we dodged an encounter with the ancient god of the land because... *gestures to the stairs Being Right There*

After a few days of odd jobs, I realized I didn't want our duo getting too far along the experience curve. But how else could I satisfy my itch to keep playing this game? I could play as other Pokémon, sure, but most of them were far too weak for the average Bulletin Board request.

...And then I remembered: I hadn't tried a single dungeon from Poliwhirl's Dojo yet.

(Okay yeah I took these photos after completing all of them but shhhh)

This was our menu of offerings (loaded with affluence and laughter, apparently). Some were conquered on the first try. Some required a little bit of elbow grease. And some... well, they certainly put my patience to the test. I remember Affluent Turn, Hilarious Court, Prosperous Outback, and Hilarious Abyss being particularly troublesome.

"Wait, but aren't the dojo mazes only five floors-" Correct! But these dungeons are randomized like any other, meaning they have three things the mazes typically don't: traps, monster houses, and a whole lot of sticky items.

Granted, this was the squad:

But the traditional starters are well-boosted in the stats to begin with, so it wasn't too bad. And this is a randomizer, so...

I'msorryCharmanderlearnedWHAT?!

(I now want to watch an anime episode where a tiny Igglybuff and Charmander wreck Dialga's sh*t with Roar of Time.)

After enough tries, we were able to nudge the three starters towards evolution. And hilariously, they all insisted on learning OHKO moves (and Dig for some reason):

G-Grovyle, my beloved...

You Do Not See The Palkia, Grovyle Is Clearly Fighting Primal Dialga Here.

Yet the one thing that was consistent across these dungeons to the point of skepticism... was the sheer abundance of legendaries.

Like I honestly think it would be easier for me to list the legendaries NOT included. That's how many there were. Take a gander at this list (bold indicates the Pokémon sighted):

Kanto: Articuno, Zapdos, Moltres, Mewtwo, Mew

Johto: Raikou, Entei, Suicune, Lugia, Ho-Oh, Celebi

Hoenn: Regirock, Regice, Registeel, Kyogre, Groudon, Rayquaza, Jirachi, Deoxys (multiple forms, all mirage)

Sinnoh: Uxie, Mesprit, Azelf, Dialga, Palkia, Heatran, Regigigas, Giratina (both forms), Cresselia, Phione, Manaphy, Darkrai, Shaymin (both forms)

Most of these were in the Final Maze, too. No wonder it was called this instead:

In total, we only recruited two of these legends, which is pretty impressive when you remember you're forced into these places with an empty bag (so no items to help increase the recruitment rate). The first, as you can see above, was Uxie, one of the True Time Gear Guardians.

Not bad! Not bad at all.

And the second... the second is pretty special. I'm still giddy about it even all these days later:

😍 YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT. I RECRUITED THE LADY HERSELF!

I SCREECHED when I saw her in the dungeon to begin with, so you can imagine the commotion I made when she wanted to join the team!! When you talked to her in a dungeon, she even said the phrases. You know, stuff like hating the decay brought about by the world of darkness, and there being no need to worry because she can't ever be caught, of course!

I suppose she's a little confused by her displacement in time and space, but you know what? This really makes it feel like her... so I wouldn't have it any other way <3

She originally joined us at Level 38. I already knew, without a doubt, that she was gonna become a permanent fixture of the team. So I loaded her up with 3 Golden Seeds, every Gummi I had leftover from the mazes, and some Proteins.

Why Protein? Well, she originally knew... Tackle, Endeavor, Strength, and Meteor Mash lol. Her attack stat was also dreadfully low, so why not catch that up to the others when I happen to be swimming in Proteins?

I did also feed her some TMs to diversify the move set a little:

This shot is actually outdated already: presently she knows Super Fang instead of Rock Climb and Hidden Power instead of Defend Order.

There is one slightly unfortunate caveat to my sheer excitement:

Yeah... Normalize. So she can't benefit from the STAB on Giga Drain. But I suppose there are worse things.

Here's something I doubt many people have seen! You're technically not supposed to be able to speak with her in Rotom's Cafe, right? So of course I was dying to know what she said when you spoke to her there, and:

Forgive the desaturation and such, as you can see by the reflection I snapped this one with my phone 💀

Interesting, no? Read that again: Magneton. If you recall, that Pokémon was her replacement in the story! Funny to see it show up here, in what I can only presume is the title of her idle pose. For reasons unknown to me, sometimes she said "standby 2" instead.

Anyway, she and the Gabite you saw earlier were our tried and true teammates during our many, many attempts to conquer Massive Tomb. To skirt around the excess EXP problem, I simply reset whenever things went awry.

The thing with Massive Tomb is... It has 48 floors, right? (Which I found odd, why not make it 50 at that point?) And you're not allowed any items upon entry. So either you miraculously find a string of Secret Bazaars to replenish your belly until you find an Apple of some kind (lol) or you starved to death by floor 11. Oh, and basically every other floor was a Monster House. So it really came down to sheer luck.

There was one attempt where I got as far as 43F. But my string of good fortune turned sour: back-to-back Monster Houses slowly picked off my teammates and made Andrea run out of PP for Blizzard. So when we ran into yet another Monster House (this time mandatory), all it took was one Triple Kick from Persian before it's all over. That loss felt particularly devastating.

The one attempt that finally succeeded was the one where we didn't run into a single MH until we were over 2/3s of the way through. Although the one that did finally show up nearly ended me.

But finally... Finally!

YEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAW!

On the one hand: Can you imagine if the aura you got at the beginning was Brown? I would be so mad if I had two of the same color lol. Though on the other hand, aura color doesn't really matter? It only shows up in the flavor text and item sprite - the latter of which you only see if the item gets knocked off of you.

But hey, I'll take it. I'm just glad I finally got through the darn place!

Oh geez, this "mini update" was very close to 30 images somehow 😬 But I hope you enjoyed seeing this not-insignificant, optional part of the main world!

Bonus:

...Okay I guess I lied, we recruited three legends.

[iwadori]

Hey! I really liked that atsumu x reader fic where reader's Kita's sister. Could we get a similar fic but instead it's Kuroo dating kenma's equally as socially awkward sister/team manager?

Dating your Brothers teammate PT 2 (Kuroo)

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 1.8K

Genre: angst, fluff

You were a first year in Nekoma high school

You kept to yourself, since you found it hard to make friends

You spent your time in your classes, the library or joining your old brother’s (kenma) practices, although when you did attend you didn’t socialize with all your brother teammates you either sat with a book on in your hand or (if you were lucky) played on Kenma’s nintendo swtich.  

When Kuroo first saw you, he thought you were the prettiest girl that he ever laid his eyes on. He was speechless, to say the least. Kenma introduced him and you first as when you started in your first year, since he knew that you two should at least be acquainted with each other as you were all going to be walking to school together.

You found Kuroo very annoying (and that was an understatement) his debonair smirk, his wild wild bedhead and all of his continuous chemistry puns were things you found attractive annoying about him.  

Sometimes when you attend practice, you could tell that Kuroo was trying extra hard in an attempt to ‘show off’ to you, but you took no notice since you knew what type of guy Kuroo was (well you thought). Kuroo was a heavy flirt (well everyone he laid eyes on) he also was a giant dick. To you, he was a your average stereotypical teenage boy.

One day, Kenma fell ill with a cold so it just left you alone to walk to school. However, when you left your house, you see the last person you want to see.  

“Kenma’s not coming today” you whisper softly, but loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah I know” he smiled

“So then why are you here?” you ask

“Well I’ll have you know Y/N, I’m here to see you.” he said as you start walking

On your route to school, you don’t say much just letting Kuroo talk about things or asking you questions to which you just nodded or shook your head in reply. As much as you’d like too, you didn’t know how to properly talk to someone like Kuroo, knowing the types of conversations he’s used to having with people, especially other girls.

Reaching the gates of Nekoma, before you could step inside Kuroo pulls you to side and puts his hands on your shoulders “Y/N” he says,

“Yes Kuroo?” you look up at him

“I just want to say I like you..” he says waiting for a response from you  

“I-I ...umm” You didn’t really know what to say, although you did find him annoying beyond relief there were some redeeming qualities about Kuroo that you could think of. But would two even work properly?

From your lack of response Kuroo continued, “I’m sure you don’t trust me right now, but Y/N don’t worry I’ll make sure I’ll prove to you that I’m a good guy for you.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod, since you didn’t really know what to say to that. Just then, the bell rings and you were still frozen in place, only snapping out of your trance when you hear Kuroo shout from afar “Don’t worry Y/N im going to do my best to woo you!”

Over the next month, Kuroo is doing his extra best to get you to fall in love with him doing things like: walking you to your lessons, carrying your books for you, bringing you lunch and spending everyday complimenting you to your face and to his friends.  

His actions made you swoon, you did feel more comfortable around him, although you haven't confessed your feelings yet, you were planning on to at the date that you reluctantly accepted to go on. You were going to have dinner first at this nice restaurant that you showed interest in ages ago and you were planning to watch a sequel to *insert favourite movie here* since he knew that you really liked the first one.

Before leaving out to the date you looked in the mirror giving yourself a once over. ‘Wow I look hot’ you thought smiling, you were kind of excited to see Kuroo and hear what he had to say about how you looked today. When you were leaving you were startled by Kenma who said

“Where are you going Y/N?” he asked with his eyes focused on his game

“Oh, to the library” you lied your cheeks heating up.

“Sure, you are...” he said

“Bye Kenma” you say putting your hand on the door knob

“Oh Y/N” he calls

“Mhm”  

“You look nice today” making you smile wide giving your brother a ‘Thank you’ before finally leaving.

On the way to the restaurant, you had a pep in your step, you felt the happiest you’ve ever been in a while. You stood outside the restaurant and took a few deep breaths to calm the sudden surge of nerves that washed over you. You counted to 10 and walked in the resturaunt freezing at what you saw, there was Kuroo looking as handsome as ever but next to him was a beautiful girl who was tall and had long hair, pretty eyes and a great body who also reminded you of someone you knew (but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.)

She exclaimed “Tetsu!” and pulling into a hug, her boobs pushing against his chest making you cringe. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t compete with this European-looking supermodel, especially she already looks really friendly with ‘Tetsu.’  

You storm out the restaurant a bit too aggressively, causing attention to yourself making Kuroo look at over to you, cursing himself for knowing how the situation looks to you. He chases after you, but sadly you were already gone.

When you got home, you rushed upstairs to your room with tears in your eyes. You knew this was stupid in the first place ‘Trusting a guy like Kuroo Testurou, how stupid can you be.’  

Kenma came into your room, never asking or caring to know what happened as he knew that once you were ready to tell him you would. You and Kenma have always been close, as you’re both as quiet as each other you never felt the need to be surrounded by a bunch of people since both of you were just what each of you needed.

You managed to forget the awfulness of your ‘date’ getting distracted by trying to win in a game of Murder Mystery on roblox and also having fun trolling 6 year olds with your brother. The night was basically ended and before you dozed off to sleep and Kenma went to his own bedroom he said “At least talk to him Y/N” leaving your room not waiting for a response.

As you slept, you thought about what Kenma said ‘what more is their to say to Kuroo?’ You did think about all the possibilites of what could’ve really happened with Kuroo and that girl. Maybe they’re just friends? You didn’t want to think about the possibility of you being wrong. You were never wrong. So you just slept with the assumption of Kuroo being who you thought he was in the first place. A womanizing dick.

As lonely it was, you didn’t tag along with Kenma to the gym and you made sure to wake up earlier so you didn’t have to walk to school with your brother and your boyfriend his best friend.  

Kuroo really wanted to talk to you again but you were heavy on the ignoring him. He even asked Kenma for help, but even though your brother was definitely always going to be on your side no matter what, he didn’t want to be in between his bestfriend and his little sister.

When you were walking home from school one day, you were stopped by the pretty girl that was with Kuroo on your ‘date.’ “Hi, my name is Alisa Haiba” she said smiling

‘Haiba’ you thought ‘Where do I know that surname?’ until you realised, “Oh your L-”

“Lev’s sister, that knucklehead is my brother” she laughed

“So what do you need me for?” you ask  

“Me and Kuroo are just friends, I know you probably won’t believe me but me and him are NOT dating or anything romantic, he’s as much as a little brother too me then Lev is” she said

“Oh ok, thanks” you didn’t have any more to say and with this newfound information, you did feel more inclined to give Kuroo a chance, and that is if he even wanted one after all the ignoring and avoiding you’ve been doing. Now you feel stupid.

You thought back to all your times with Kuroo, making you smile. You knew what you had to do, you couldn’t shy away from this anymore, you thought about the scenario of him completely rejecting you and to be honest you were content with that as if ‘you don’t ask you don’t get’ or whatever the saying is. Since it was Friday, you knew that Kuroo would be at Kenmas playing smash bros on their switches (and that’s when you would usually spend extra time at the library to avoid him.)

So, you rushed to your house, dramatically opening the door exasperated. “Kuroo!” you shout, not even looking to see if he was there, to your horror there was the whole team over tonight who were quite humored by your shout.  

You went red and then shyly whispered “May I speak to Kuroo please?” looking up at him “that’s if you wanted”

“Umm...sure” he said getting up to follow you into your room.

Kenma gave you a reassuring smile that read ‘Everything's going to be ok.’ You led Kuroo to your bedroom and sat on your bed fidgeting.  

“I’m sorry”

“I’m sorry”

You both say at the same time, making each other laugh he waits for you to speak, “Kuroo, I’m sorry for misreading the situation and ignoring you and making you out to be a complete dick, I know I’m probably a bit too late but I’d love to ask you on a proper date... one that I won’t run away on this time”

“Y/N, it’s fine. I’m sorry for not actually explaining the situation as I know what it looked like. And yes, I will definitely take you up on that date... that’s if you’ll have a ‘dick’ like me” he jokes

You playfully shove his arm, making you both laugh. You spend the rest of the night with Kuroo in your room catching up on all the things you’ve both missed out on in the time when you were ignoring him.

The date you went on was better than you imagined, Kuroo was definitely a great guy (making you feel even more stupid for assuming differently in the first place.) You developed an amazing relationship with Kuroo, which lead you to eventually become mrs Y/N Kuroo and having Kenma and Kuroo be able to officially call themselves ‘real brothers’

AN: I really actually enjoyed this one, so I hope you do too. <3

[cno-inbminor]

immergo

a/n: i recently watched haikyuu and i’m absolutely hooked. to help get it out of my system in time for final papers and assignments, i’m procrastinating by writing this out. hope you enjoy!

featuring: oikawa tooru x fem!reader & some OC’s + iwaizumi

genre: best friends to lovers!au, angst, fluff, slooow burn, some cliches to make people suffer

summary: tooru is as constant as the stars and as real as the earth beneath your feet, yet even for you, he still manages to slip away. and when it’s all too late, only then does he attempt to come back.

word count: 21.9k (this is a monster)

playlist: i wanted to try making one so here's a playlist on spotify: immergo

edit: now crossposted onto AO3 here!

-

You are five years old when you first meet him.

He’s got a terrible bowl cut and sand particles smudged on his cheek. A plastic, ocean blue shovel is dug deep into the sand before being lifted up with a load, then precariously dumped into a matching bucket. A teetering sandcastle threatens to fully collapse, yet somehow still sporting a little plastic yellow umbrella that some other kids might’ve left behind. You’re clutching your mother’s hand, a clenched fist brought up to your mouth to hide the trembling of your lips from the nervousness of approaching new people. The sandbox is a part of the playground, but you want to be there alone. You want to be in your own little world, too terrified to face the unknowns, but after the last two weeks of coming by, this boy is always in the sandbox.

Your mother somehow convinces you that you can make new friends. ‘But don’t boys have cooties?’ you ponder. There’s only a week left until kindergarten starts, and your mother thinks it would be nice to try to meet someone so you’ll at least have some semblance of familiarity. Just when you think you’re brave enough, you almost yelp in renewed fear when another boy comes into the scene and plops down next to the other boy, his own pair of a bucket and shovel dyed a bright, firetruck red, and is ready to start digging up sand. You watch him eye the falling castle, grumbling something to the other boy before attempting to patch it and stand it back up. The other boy stares at him with wide eyes and an open mouth before morphing his face into a childish, happy grin. And immediately, you think, ‘Oh wow, I like his smile.’

Not only is it bright and wide, but there’s a certain feeling of gentleness. None of this is eloquently elaborated in your brain, but there’s a comfort that settles into your mind. That smile is what causes you to (though still hesitantly) let go of your mother’s hand and slowly wobble to the sand box, pause, before you step up and over the wooden border. The two boys have ceased their castle-building duties to stare at you, who’s now sitting in the sand and looking towards anything but them. Your head scrambles to remind yourself on how to say hello, and it must’ve done something correctly because before they can ask questions, you quietly ask, “Can I play with you guys?”

Both boys look toward each other, giving a look, before the boy with the red bucket shrugs and says, “Okay. As long as you don’t mess up my castle.”

Bowl-cut tyke flicks sand at him, causing him to splutter and yell in protest. “Don’t be so mean, Hajime!” Bowl-cut scolds before turning back to you with that earlier grin. “I’m Oikawa Tooru and he’s Iwaizumi Hajime. Wanna help me with my castle?”

And ever since you moved to this new city until now, your mother has never seen your eyes so bright.

-

You are ten years old when Oikawa, with a better hairstyle, receives his first love confession of sorts (because you’re ten).

It takes until fifth grade for you to be finally in a class with both him and Iwaizumi. Other years either had one or neither of them, but you were still able to reconvene during recess. The three of you are attached at the hips during those 30 minutes, either running around in a game of tag, swinging as fast as you could across the monkey bars, or seeing who could swing the highest.

On days when the swings are particularly busy, the three of you would take turns pushing each other, trading off once one of you had your fill. “Higher!” Oikawa would always yell happily, his voice blending in with the rest of the screams and laughs in the playground. With your own laughs leaving your lips as you attempt to push the swing, Iwaizumi would instead yell back at him, “Use your own legs, idiot! That’s what they’re for!” To which Oikawa would whine, but eyes would still crinkle in childish delight as he approached the sky.

But Oikawa notices a lot of things, more than the average fifth grader does. Then again, it isn’t hard to spot the group of giggling girls under a tree’s shade nearby, evidently gazing at him in wonder and affection. He feels his heart soar at the attention and in turn, pumps his legs even harder, almost reaching perpendicular height to the ground. Oikawa admits that he is a bit of a show-off, he wants to be the best, and without warning, releases his hands from the chains and jumps off from the swing.

Both you and Iwaizumi gape at him with a mixture of horror and awe. If you could put this moment in slow motion, you would see Oikawa suspended in mid-air, yet somehow seeming to soar like a bird. His jacket flows behind him as his arms lift up to give a sense of balance, legs stretching out to get ready to meet the ground. You wonder what the expression on his face is like, yet the terror manifests itself into your shriek of his name, pitch and tone overpowering a similar call from Iwaizumi. But Oikawa is Oikawa and he lands on both feet, knees bent and almost touching the ground before straightening back up. You’re about to start running towards him, feet already moving, until you stop because he’s twisting himself towards you and Iwaizumi, V-sign held up and that same, big grin he always has. The sun casts a halo around him and you can’t bring yourself to look away. Your feet stay rooted on the mulch and you watch as Iwaizumi stomps over to punch Oikawa in the arm, yelling about how he could’ve broken his legs and who would he play volleyball with then, leaving you to spot the aforementioned fangirls huddled like they’re coming up with a grand plan.

At first, you think nothing of it. It isn’t until after school as the three of you are walking towards the entrance when you wish you were more perceptive like Oikawa. One of the girls from under the tree has gone up to him, quickly bowing while introducing herself, grabs one of his hands to slap a folded piece of paper into it, and almost sprints away. Oikawa doesn’t have a chance to say anything, but he can only give himself a few seconds to register what just happened and unfold the ripped notebook paper. Inside in pretty cursive is an email address (because none of you have cellphones yet), which causes Oikawa to put on a shit-eating grin. He just basically received a love note, a confession, and his ego has just been fed a meal fit for a king.

He brags and boasts the whole way home, causing a permanent frown to settle on Iwaizumi’s face from pure irritation, and you find yourself only able to stay quiet, pondering and contemplating what this small nasty feeling inside your chest could be.

-

Oikawa and Iwaizumi are fourteen years old, nearly fifteen, when you receive your first love confession, which ends up being a little more refined than a hastily torn piece of notebook paper possessing an email address.

Their afternoons and early evenings are occupied by volleyball. While you had been at Lil Tykes from the ages of 6 to 10, mainly due to a massive fear of missing out and wanting to spend more time with your new best friends then, you didn’t have as much talent as those two and decided to pursue other interests. Iwaizumi and Oikawa had protested vehemently when you broke the news to them one evening over dinner at the setter's house, their mouths full of rice and chicken curry yet somehow still managing to speak over the food. Oikawa’s mother had seen you shrink further and further into your chair before slamming her hand on the table, causing the two boys to startle and cease their yelling.

“Respect (y/n)’s interests! I did not raise you,” she spoke pointedly, directing a finger at her now ashamed son, “to be so rude. If she doesn’t want to play volleyball anymore, then she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t need to keep doing something she doesn’t want to do just because you two said so. Now, both of you apologize to (y/n) and finish your dinner.”

“Yes, mother,” and “Yes, auntie,” both quietly left their lips. You wanted to hug the woman right then and there, tears nearly forming and spilling over at the fact that she was on your side. The two boys had put their spoons down and waited for a few seconds before Iwaizumi finally spoke.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you. We’re just gonna miss you a lot,” he apologized, tone sad and soft. Oikawa was still chewing on his bottom lip when Iwaizumi elbowed him to say something. “Apologize, you idiot,” he hissed.

“Ow! I know, geez. I’m sorry, too. Mom’s right, I should respect what you want to do. We’re gonna miss seeing you, like this meanie said,” Oikawa jabbing a thumb in the direction of his male best friend. Their eyes are still downcast until you let out a small giggle.

“Apologies accepted, you dummies.”

You still found time after your new art classes to go watch them play volleyball with either Iwazumi’s or Oikawa’s mother picking you all up and heading home. The three of you still lived near each other, and the two boys were happy that they could still see you somehow. Lil Tykes after school evolved into official middle school volleyball practice, yet you were still commonly found in the bleachers finishing homework or doodling in a sketchbook, patiently waiting for your two best friends to go home with you.

A teammate by the name of Wakeda had taken notice of you, had seen your interactions with the best players on their team. He had seen how nice you were with your classmates, yet still unafraid to give Oikawa and Iwaizumi shit for the smallest things. Your aura is pleasant and raw in a genuine sense, only fueling his budding, burning crush on you. He decided he wanted to be confident and bold, hoping that you would give him a chance.

The Friday afternoon starts off like any other -- Iwaizumi and Oikawa head off to volleyball practice with a greeting and a wave, receiving one from you in return as you make your way towards the math club. The art classes from late elementary school only served to show that you only possessed some mild talent for drawing and painting, but not enough for you to continue paying money for classes. The passion and drive didn’t exist for you there, not like it does with Iwaizumi and Oikawa in volleyball, and it only became something that you enjoyed in your leisure time. Instead, you eventually find yourself balancing math club and chess club -- math is on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons while chess is on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, but they never run as late as volleyball practice.

As tiring as math club can be sometimes, you usually somehow still find the energy to finish the bulk of your homework before heading home. When you walk through the bleachers and settle into your normal seat, the team spots you and gives you a casual wave. You smile and wave back, setting your stuff down before you clamber towards the edge of the rail and look down to spot the manager. On time, she looks up and greets you with a matching smile, ones that you return. The team is coincidentally taking a quick water break, giving Oikawa and Iwaizumi enough time to quickly chat with you from below (and escape their coach for a hot second).

“How was math club?” Iwaizumi calls out. Oikawa subtly observes you as you shrug. To both him and Hajime, the mental exhaustion is evident on your face and figure, yet they always find themselves asking, waiting, watching.

“It was okay,” you respond, fighting back a yawn. “Practice competition round was a bit brutal. How’s practice?” You quickly digress, noticing Oikawa was about to jump in and ask for some details.

“This crappy guy over here keeps pushing himself too much. You know, the usual,” Iwaizumi speaks before, once again, Oikawa can say anything. The latter turns to him and lets out an indignant “Hey!” before quickly attempting to defend himself.

“Iwa-chan is being mean, I’m not--”

“All right, let’s get back to work! Everybody back on the court!” The coach yells and Oikawa can only drop his shoulders and sigh, slightly trudging back into the bounds of the court outline. You stare after him worriedly -- both he (mainly out of stubbornness) and Iwaizumi (mainly out of friendship and loyalty) had been pulling late extra practice sessions and the dark eye circles were starting to become more and more noticeable. As if he could tell what you were probably thinking, he turns back and gives a thumbs up with a grin, tongue slightly poking out. You can only roll your eyes at his antics, returning to your seat in the bleachers and pulling out your science homework.

The minutes tick by as the sun slowly begins to set, rays streaming through the windows of the gym in a harsh blood orange. The coach takes a look at his watch before blowing his whistle, signalling the end of practice. The sound of volleyballs hitting skin abruptly stops, except for one last jump-serve that Oikawa sneaks in. The coach berates him loudly, only causing Oikawa to sheepishly smile and rub the back of his neck. All the players bow and announce their thanks before moving to complete their respective clean-up duties. By this time, you gather your stuff and make your way towards the ground floor. Even if your best friends were going to do some extra practice, it’s better for you to sit at their level against the wall.

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor increases in volume as you approach the court. But before you can make your way towards Iwaizumi and Oikawa on the other side of the net, Wakeda calls out your name. You turn towards the left to see him pick up a volleyball not far from you, and Wakeda is counting his lucky stars that he was provided with an excuse to be near you.

“Aoki-san,” you greet him by his last name. “How was practice?”

“It was good, but Coach really worked us to the bone today,” he nervously replies, hands subtly clenching the volleyball in his hands. “I was wondering if I could speak with you for a second? In private?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You’ve never really had much interaction with him outside of volleyball practice, and even then it was very limited to pleasantries. Perhaps it’s about Iwaizumi and Oikawa running themselves to the ground, and nothing to do with you. “Sure,” you agree, looking around before gesturing towards the door of the gym. “We can talk out here, if you’d like.” Wakeda quickly nods and follows you. At this time, the other boys have retreated towards the locker room except for one. One who narrows his eyes at the retreating backs of two people making their way out of the gym.

He puts the last ball in the ball cart, ignoring his friend’s confused look as he jogs towards the entrance of the gym and leans against the wall out of sight. He knows it's wrong to eavesdrop, but he just has to know about what could be unfolding.

The two of you are only a few feet away from the open door and you can only look perplexed as Wakeda begins to look more and more bashful, stumbling over words and anxiously tossing the ball side to side between his hands.

“Is everything okay?” You ask worriedly, trying to maintain eye contact until you can because he’s looking straight down towards the ground. Your heart pounds in your chest as you start to fathom what might be happening.

“I’m sorry, I just -- I like you. I think you’re really nice and cool, and I would like it if I could take you out on a date.”

You’re stunned into silence. Never has anyone expressed any semblance of romantic interest in you, nor has anyone confessed. You’ve never been in this position and the first thing your brain starts to unravel is the puzzle of how to turn someone down. It’s not that going on a date with Wakeda would be terrible -- you just don’t know enough about him. You don’t want to bring his hopes up, but you don’t want to bring him down either.

On the other side of the wood, the boy’s eyebrows are furrowed. His arms are crossed and a foot is perched against the wall, legs making the shape of the number four. His eyes are burning holes into the window across from him and he can’t figure out why a feeling of protectiveness is washing over him. But what he can’t figure out even more is why his mind is instantly screaming, “Please say no please say no please say no don’t say yes don’t leave us don’t leave me--”

“I’m sorry,” he hears, ears straining to catch your voice as you softly apologize. You watch as Wakeda’s shoulders slump and the volleyball is finally kept still between his hands. You gently put a hand on his upper arm. “I can tell you’re a nice guy, but I don’t feel that way about you. I’m sorry.”

Wakeda lets out a long breath before mustering up his best smile for you. “It’s okay, I was kind of expecting it." A hand reaches up to run a hand through his hair in embarrassment and he’s trying to think of what to say next. Be bold, be confident, his inner self reminds him as he stands tall again. Wakeda puts up the cheekiest smile you’ve seen on him so far. “But I’ll be waiting, if you ever change your mind.”

The statement only makes you smile first and then chuckle. Wakeda basks in the sound for as long as he can before he shyly joins you. The laughter isn’t meant to demean him in any way, but it’s the only reaction you can feel yourself make. It’s all so foreign to you, but you’re glad that your first interaction like this is with someone as kind as him. You trust Oikawa’s teammates.

“Thank you though, it must’ve taken a lot of courage to do this. To be honest, this has never happened to me before and I just don’t know what to say,” you ramble a little, now wondering if you’ve said too much. Wakeda begins to look a little more comfortable before making his way back to the gym with you following.

“Would it be cheesy to say I’m glad I was the first?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I know now that I’m never changing my mind.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Wakeda exclaims, only causing you to laugh. “You gotta leave some room for chance so--”

“Oi, Wakeda,” you hear a familiar voice call out. Your eyes spot Oikawa slowly making his way from the other side of the gym, walking towards you two with a hand in a pocket and another hand in the air, waving. But it’s perplexing because his chest is heaving like he just sprinted his fastest around the court. “Is that the last ball?”

“Ah, yes, sorry senpai!” Wakeda apologizes before tossing the ball into Oikawa’s awaiting hand. It quickly gets thrown into the ball cart. When you two are standing right in front of him, your friend pats Wakeda on the shoulder. “Go ahead and clean up, you deserve a break,” he says before smiling. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes or even match his eyes. His chestnut orbs have another emotion burning in them, far from the light they would usually glint when paired with a genuine grin. Wakeda quickly lets out a “see you around” and you wave back at him. Once the boy has disappeared into the locker room, you direct your attention back to Oikawa. That earlier fire in his eyes has dimmed a little, but you want to know what it is and why it’s there.

A word barely leaves your tongue when strong arms hug you to a sturdy chest. They intertwine around your shoulders, the squeeze becoming more and more constricting. Your chest tightens and you’re not sure if it’s your heartbeat or his that you’re feeling beat against your chest. In a movement of instinct, you hesitantly wrap your own arms around Oikawa, hand linking to hold onto your own wrist behind his back. Your face is pressed into his shoulder, your nose catching the lingering scent of his deodorant mixed with his sweat. His chin is perched over your shoulder momentarily before he buries his face in the crook of your neck, causing you to stiffen.

It’s not that Oikawa has never hugged you before. There have been plenty of hugs with the two boys over the last nine years, but something is different about this one. There’s an underlying intention hidden in the muscles of Oikawa’s arms, hidden in the way that he breathes in your scent. Something heavy is unspoken as a sense of intimacy falls over the two of you like a soft blanket. You can only gently grasp the back of his jersey, his grip somehow tightening even more, and finally find your voice to speak.

“Tooru,” you murmur, fighting the sensation of your heart caught in your throat. Very rarely do you ever say his name in that tone, one so gentle and full of friendly affection (but did he want it to be just friendly?), so caring and drowned in empathy. “Is everything okay?” You continue and ask. He’s trying to tell you something. He’s trying to scream it through his mind, hoping it’ll somehow miraculously meet yours. But even he doesn’t understand what’s drawing him to do this. All he knows is that as soon as Wakeda was out of sight, he needed you here in his arms. The non-verbal pleas of worry and want from earlier have substantially settled, now morphing into thoughts of “It’s okay, she’s here, she isn’t leaving us, she isn’t leaving me--”. It must be the stress from wanting to become the best, from the stress of Kageyama Tobio’s looming ascent to the top, from the general stress of classes. It must be those. It couldn’t be anything else.

“Everything’s fine,” he replies into your neck, sound muffled but just as quiet as yours had been. You can only feel your heart sink at how strained those words came out. Everything was clearly not fine. Your hands unlink and move to his waist, putting some force into your palms to try to separate from him so you can see his face. But Oikawa quickly protests a soft “no”, once again pulling you as close to him as possible with an arm around your waist and the other soon joining. He can’t handle distance from you right now, some budding anxiety from your attempts at separation quickly subdued as you’re pressed fully against his chest again. “Just give me this moment,” he thinks and pleads to some unknown force.

“I’m just...stressed,” he says before letting out a long breath and disentangling himself from you. But he doesn’t move far, the tips of both of your sneakers just centimeters apart from touching. He straightens his back and lifts his head to momentarily look into your eyes, your own face slightly tilted upwards to meet his gaze. But before you can decipher the emotions in his eyes, his head tilts down to lean his forehead against yours. Though his eyes are closed, yours are still open in muted astonishment. If the hug wasn’t very new, then this action was definitely new. The tip of his nose barely grazes yours, causing your breath to hitch, once again feeling your heart stuck in your throat. You struggle to breathe, especially when his lips are so close to yours. Somehow your thoughts drift to thinking of what would happen if you elevated your feet just a little bit, what would it feel like if your lips softly met his--

“There’s a lot going on,” he interrupts your (silly, silly) thoughts. “I keep getting reminded of how I’m not good enough, and maybe I never will be. But I want to be the best, you know?” For how tall Oikawa is, you’ve never heard him sound so small before. Your eyes can’t help but flutter closed as you relish in the sound of his voice. You try to understand what he’s feeling, the frustration, the stress, the insecurity.

“I hate knowing there’s someone better out there. I hate that there’s someone out there, right here, who’s got the pure talent and prodigal level that I don’t have because I keep getting reminded of how I’m not the one who has it. It’s just not fair, (y/n), do you understand?”

“But I know you’re here for me. And Iwaizumi. I know you believe in me and in us. You're right here with us. You always are,” he continues before you can affirm and acknowledge him. His fingers ghost over your skin, up from your wrists, to your elbows, then your shoulders, lastly lingering at the sides of your neck. Goosebumps break out in the wake of his tender trail and you fight the urge to shiver. You so badly want to open your eyes and drink in this moment of vulnerability from Oikawa, but you’re afraid that you’ll do something rash, something you’ll regret. You’re then given all the more reason to keep your eyes shut when his hands gently cradle your face, his thumbs on your cheeks, the other fingers softly splayed down your neck. He inhales sharply, then daring to slant his head down just the slightest distance, your noses firmly touching now. Your heart is now thrashing wildly against your ribcage -- you have no grasp on what is happening.

“Promise me you’ll never leave us, (y/n),” he implores, raw desperation laced and building in his voice. You can’t help but recognize the tears uncontrollably forming behind your eyelids. Nothing else around you matters -- it’s only you and Oikawa in this impenetrable bubble that you two have created. You’re too far in now, sinking and drowning into this body of water that is him, entangled and rooted in this web that he’s so quickly and craftily woven. He could ask anything of you and you would do it in the blink of an eye. How he made you feel this way in just a few minutes, from the door of the gym to the embrace of his arms, is completely beyond you, but you can’t seem to find the complaints within you. ‘How cruel of him,’ you despondently think, still unable to find it in yourself to be mad. ‘How wicked of him.’

But then Oikawa deals the final blow with a shaky breath. He lays out his last trap, one that you can’t escape. It’s the final straw, the last pull into a heartbreaking world that you will never be able to escape from for as far into the future as you can see; desperation, yearning, beseeching.

“Promise that you’ll never leave me.”

Nothing, nothing, can stop you from whispering what he so deeply desires to hear, fall delicately off your tongue.

“I promise.”

And his lips crash onto yours.

-

You and Iwaizumi are fifteen years old when Oikawa falls to his lowest.

The kiss was a one-time thing. It had lasted no more than a few seconds when the sound of the locker room door swinging open had you two jumping apart and turning away from each other. Oikawa found it easier than you did to compose himself, though internally he was berating his actions. What was it that made him do such a thing? What was it that pushed him to cross the line he never thought he’d cross? What was it that made him want to spin back around and continue what he had started?

“Iwa-chan!” He had hollered across the building, waving over said male who had smartly refrained from changing his clothes. “Help with some tosses? Serves?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Iwaizumi had muttered under his breath, grunting his affirmation loud enough. But in his peripheral, he had spotted your figure hunched over your things on the bench, had squinted at the way you seemed to be shaking, shivering. He had noticed the look, almost a glare, that Oikawa had directed towards Wakeda before imperceptibly shaking his head to focus on the extra task.

And it wasn’t until weeks later that Oikawa breached the subject during a walk home, sans you because you had late night practice with the math club to prepare for some upcoming Olympiad competition. You were insistent through text that they didn't wait for you and that one of your teammates would help walk you home. Oikawa argued quite relentlessly against it until you threatened to block him from the group chat (though it wasn’t the first time you threatened such a thing) and Iwaizumi decided to take his phone away.

While much wasn’t being said, mainly both preoccupied with their popsicles that they had stopped at a convenience store for, Oikawa broke the silence.

“I kissed (y/n).”

Iwaizumi nearly choked on his popsicle, spluttering and struggling to find the right words to say. Yet the best he could come up with was, “So are you two...dating?”

“No.”

“What the fuck? Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we’re best friends, Iwa-chan. I didn’t know when to tell you though, thought you’d get mad at me,” Oikawa said, pouting childishly.

“So...well, you can tell me what happened before it later. But what happened after? And when did this even happen?”

“Everything just went back to normal. We never spoke about it. And it happened a few weeks ago in the gym after practice.”

“But why?”

“Hmm…” Oikawa had pondered for a few seconds and then shrugged. “Not sure. I was just really stressed, and I was scared that she’d leave us.”

“Us? How am I included in this? And where’d you even come up with that thought?”

“Because it’s always been us three, and it’s always gonna be us. We can’t be apart.”

“We’re eventually going to be apart, you know. It’s not likely that we’re all going to end up in the same city.”

“No,” Oikawa spoke obstinately, hands harshly crushing the wrapper around the now empty popsicle stick. “That’s not going to happen. We’re going to stick together wherever we go. We’ll play for the national team and (y/n) will find a job in Tokyo. We’re always going to be near each other. That’s how it’ll be. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Iwaizumi had nothing to say about that, except for, “We’ll see.”

In the month or so to the blossoming age of fifteen, things don’t change very much. Oikawa becomes more physically affectionate with you and Iwaizumi. You try not to notice how often and how casually Oikawa tends to sling an arm over your shoulders. He does the same with Iwaizumi, though the latter is more likely to shrug it off in mock annoyance and causes Oikawa to lament about lost friendships. But even if physical distance has shortened, Oikawa begins to dig a mental wall between you two. His face becomes more hardened during practice, rarely ever putting up an earnest smile with his teammates. The late-night practices run even later, each serve hitting harder, each toss against the wall getting stronger. The nights when you leave him on his own slowly increase in frequency, going back home with only Iwaizumi. The third leg of the triangle missing feels so adulterated, so wrong. Oikawa is digging himself towards a hell that he won’t be able to return from, but how can you lift him back up? How can you dig your heels into the earth and pull him back out?

“I’m trying my best,” Iwaizumi attempts to comfort you one night. He sees how often you turn back to look at Oikawa as the two of you reluctantly move to leave the gym. Practice had been rough on him, getting switched out with Kageyama Tobio. You had watched his defeated body collapse onto the bench, and there was nothing more that you wanted to do than to run down and snap him out of whatever mental spiral he had created. One serve after another slams into the ground, his figure hunched and panting yet pushing itself to the limits.

“He’s going to kill himself at this rate,” you whisper morosely, turning back to peer at the dark sky. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“You know there’s no one more stubborn than that idiot. He’d have to pass out for you to drag him out of here.”

“Please teach me how to serve!” A young male voice calls out. Both of you pivot on your feet to see the source, eyes focusing on the scene of Kageyama Tobio requesting a seemingly simple task from a senpai.

But you can only watch as Oikawa’s eyes lose any semblance of emotion, instead only darkening with what seems like rage entering his body. He begins to tremble, and Iwaizumi must’ve seen something shift because no sooner than that does he bolt at top speed towards the unsuspecting pair. You can only watch in horror, shell-shocked, as Oikawa begins to forcibly swing his right arm, the back of his hand aiming straight for Tobio’s right cheek.

A horrible screech unearths from your throat in the form of a piercing “NO!” and slices through the air, just as Iwaizumi is able to stop Oikawa’s assault on the poor unsuspecting underclassman. You’ve never seen him so uncontrolled, so ready to intentionally commit an act of violence against an innocent person. Your ears pulse with your heartbeat, barely registering Iwaizumi apologizing to Tobio and giving Oikawa the lecture of his life.

The latter is reminded of the purpose of having a team, is scolded for having been so selfish in his pursuit for excellence. You start sprinting over when Iwaizumi headbutts Oikawa in the nose for his insolence, tossing your bag down as it only decreases your speed. You don’t care for the trouble of cleaning out blood stains from towels when you begin to clean his face, his eyes still furious and full of anguish but somewhat softened when he sees your tears. He continues to let Iwaizumi teach him a lesson while you pinch the bridge of his nose and tilt his head back. Like handling a doll, you have to lift his arm so he can keep the towel in place himself. You then scurry off to find the first-aid kit, leaving Oikawa to fend for himself. Only a couple of minutes later, the three of you are sitting on the ground and you’re dabbing ointment on the emerging bruise right in the middle of Iwaizumi’s forehead. Iwaizumi is a little calmer now, though he’s still verbally punishing Oikawa for even thinking of purposefully hurting a teammate.

Oikawa thinks the three of you are all fine and okay. He’d be ridiculously thickheaded if he wasn’t able to catch onto how quiet you are on the walk home, how instead of walking between him and Iwaizumi, you’re now on the opposite end. There’s a tug at his heartstrings when he plays with the idea that you’re attempting to put distance between you and him, but he refuses to believe it. His actions were a momentary lapse in terrible, awful judgment, and you had forgiven him. Why else would you have tried to help with his nosebleed? There’s no way you’d let something like this drive a rift in the trio.

There’s just no way.

-

“You’ve been avoiding him, haven’t you?”

There are times when you forget that Iwaizumi can be just as perceptive as Oikawa. For the last two weeks, you would, more often than not, avoid them during lunch. You attempt to show up at their volleyball practice as late as possible, saying that your club activities went longer than usual to prepare for upcoming competitions. You still walk on the opposite side from Oikawa on the way home and only give the bare minimum answers to any of his questions, leaving very little room to continue conversation. The atmosphere is heavy and awkward, tension so thick that Iwaizumi would need a chainsaw to cut through it.

This time you’re on the roof of the school. It’s cliché, so cliché, but the weather was too hard to ignore. Mostly cloudy with a slight wind, the perfect temperature without feeling too hot or too cold. You loved being outside during these days, and you had weaved as fast as possible through the emerging crowd of third years, up the stairs, and onto your personal sanctuary. Your bento is half-eaten when Iwaizumi makes his presence known. You should’ve seen this coming.

“He’s worried about you, y’know?”

“I know.”

“He misses you.”

“I know.”

“...he wants to know if you’re avoiding him because of that incident.”

“...which one?”

“The kiss.”

You whip your head in his direction, giving Iwaizumi an incredulous and affronted look. Instinctively, Iwaizumi throws his hands up, signaling that you shouldn’t shoot the messenger. God, Oikawa could be such a clueless buffoon sometimes. You scoff and nearly snort. Iwaizumi looks about ready to tear his hair out.

“So the great king thinks that I’m avoiding him over something that we haven’t talked about that happened a few months ago?”

Iwaizumi can’t find the words when you slam your bento box down on the ground, chopsticks thrown haphazardly on top and almost rolling off the edges. Iwaizumi catches them as you stand up in anger and begin to pace in front of him.

“Who does he think he is? He’s got a decent following of fangirls to help stroke his ego, and I’m sure some of them are more than willing to worship the ground he walks on. His teammates practically idolize him -- sans you -- but he thinks I’m losing sleep over some kiss we had months ago? It would make much more sense if this had been a couple of weeks after that, but we’re talking months right now! How is it," you stop in your stride, bottom lip beginning to tremble as you look down at Iwaizumi. "How is it that he’s one of my best friends who’s known me for almost 10 years, a genius in his own way, but still can’t tell that I’m avoiding him because I’m scared of him?”

This time, Iwaizumi is confused.

“You’re scared of Oikawa?” He asks, trying to confirm what he just heard.

You let out a long breath, forcing yourself to simmer down and keep a cool head. Part of you feels guilty, yet another part feels justified for your actions. You were only protecting yourself; it was only natural.

“I’ve never seen him like that,” you begin, gingerly sitting back down next to him. The comfort of your best friend that you’ve been denying yourself of is granted as you rest your head on his shoulder. You link an arm around his as well as you begin to curl into a familiar position. Iwaizumi only naturally rests his head on top of yours, hands folded in his lap and legs stretched out.

“I’ve never seen him look so angry, even when that one kid in second grade tried to make fun of you. Or even when someone took the shit talking too far at an official game last year. But he was ready, Iwa-kun. He was ready to displace Tobio out of sheer anger and spite. I know he knows better now. I’ve seen how much better he meshes with you all on the court and attempts to bring the best out of everyone. But it’s hard to look at him sometimes and forget what he was then. What if he gets mad like that at us one day? What if he tries to hit you?”

What if he tries to hit me? is left unsaid, but they ring loud and clear in both of your heads.

“The idiot knows that I could take him down in a fight if it ever came to it. And since it’s apparently not obvious, I’m just letting you know that Shittykawa would rather throw himself off a cliff before ever laying a finger on you like that.”

“But how can you guarantee that?” You argue back, lifting your head up to look him square in the eyes. You want to see if the same hesitancy is reflected in his orbs, the same uncertainty that had been slowly building up in you as an ugly beast. Instead, his eyes are steady and full of promise, never straying from yours as he ends the debate.

“You can trust me. And if I’m wrong, I promise I’ll do anything to make up for it, though the chances are very, very low. They’re practically non-existent.”

And if Iwaizumi says so, well…then it probably is so.

“...I trust you then,” you comply, your head leaning down to rest on his shoulder again. “You better be right.”

“I know I am.”

Silence.

“If you’re not going to eat the rest of your bento, you should give it to him. He’d be happy to see you.”

A few sighs later, a couple of stretches, some steps down the stairs, you find yourself stuck at the door of their classroom. You can see him with his jacket on, head buried in his arms on his desk and turned towards the windows. Iwaizumi gives you an encouraging pat on the shoulder and you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Somehow you find yourself demurely sitting in the empty desk chair in front of him, hands clutching your bento box and chopsticks. Iwaizumi stands by you and watches as you quietly gulp.

“Tooru, wake up.”

Oikawa thinks he’s dreaming. More often than not, you had plagued his visions in sleep, often ending with you attempting to wake him up, but it had been spoken by his mother. He would be disappointed that it wasn’t you by his bedside trying to goad him out from under the sheets.

“Tooru, wake up. I have food.”

This is different. His eyes are bleary and caked with exhaustion, vision catching the light that peaks from under his elbows. Her voice is so close -- he has to give in and just look. Oikawa lifts his head and stares in front of him. He blinks once, then twice, then multiple times, and you’re still there. This is not a dream, he concludes. This is too good to be a dream.

You watch him warily as he attempts to gather his bearings. In the meantime, you open your bento and grab the last onigiri. When Oikawa begins to form the sounds for your name, you quickly stuff the rice ball into his mouth, causing him to give a muffled protest and use one hand to prevent the food from dropping. You watch with muted delight as everything begins to hit him all at once: the food in his mouth, you in front of him with a close-lipped smile, Iwaizumi leaning on the desk next to you two, the sunlight beaming through the windows.

His eyes slightly water, choosing wisely to not say anything for now. Oikawa dutily finishes the rice ball before you place the bento in front of him with chopsticks neatly arranged to the right of it. His hands shoot out to cover yours before they leave the bento, squeezing gently as he looks at you with apologetic puppy eyes. You can’t stop your smile from widening, and only then does Oikawa happily let go, thank the food, and begin to chow down with a gusto that had been missing for the last week.

Things are going to be okay. Unless that group of fangirls seething at you over in the corner is an indication of something otherwise.

-

You turn sixteen when Oikawa gets his first, real girlfriend.

It’s your first year at Aoba Johsai and Oikawa has captured the hearts of many people from around the area, be it still from middle school, or even some of the upperclassmen. Those who are engrossed in school volleyball were surprised to hear that he didn’t matriculate into Shiratorizawa. And because Oikawa keeps most everyone at arm’s length, only very few people know the reason why. It wasn’t that he was good enough to get in, that’s for sure -- it had mainly been him refusing to “serve” Ushijima. The Herculean boy can criticize his choices all he wants, but Oikawa will never step down from his pedestal willingly.

What no one knows besides Oikawa himself is that Ushijima was only 70% of the reason. The other 30%? He was not going to be the one that separates the trio. What a hypocrite he would be if he had left after having so passionately convinced Iwaizumi that the three of you would always be with each other.

Little do the two boys know that you had seriously considered going to Shiratorizawa. They knew how smart you were as you consistently placed in the top 5 of your class throughout middle school. What they didn’t catch onto was also how well you did in math club and chess club -- to be fair, they knew you excelled, they just weren’t sure of the details. Inquiries about your competitions were always answered in team format: we did well or we placed pretty high. The same existed for chess competitions -- you weren’t a national champion by any means, but you were still somewhat recognized. But again, the same answers were given: we all did well. Math club and chess club never had the public presence that other clubs did. Very few cared, and much less was said.

Before Oikawa pointed out how disgusted he was by the idea of going to Shiratorizawa, you had studied for their entrance exams in your spare time. You didn’t play any sports, so those scholarships were out of the question. It’d all have to be based on merit and you were ready to prove yourself. You had gotten past the first two rounds of exams without them knowing, and your nights only became longer and longer as the material increased in difficulty. But then the two boys talked about going to Aoba Johsai together since they were invited anyways, and not long after, you found yourself at the entrance of the testing center with Oikawa and Iwaizumi on either side, putting Shiratorizawa to the back of your mind.

Things are more brutal in high school. Subjects are more difficult, classes take more time, after-school activities often extend past the sunset. There are physically not enough hours in a day to spend nearly the amount of time you used to have with Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The fangirls increase, Iwaizumi’s irritation becomes more exaggerated, and Oikawa becomes too nice on the fan-service.

He’s the triple threat: smart, kind, an amazing volleyball player. You and Iwaizumi can only roll your eyes as he plasters on his fakest grin for the crowd of girls huddling around him, demanding his attention. A part of him is thankful that so many seem to admire him. As much as he won’t return the affection, he welcomes the non-stop stroking of his ego. It does wonders at keeping his insecurities at bay, even if he knows that everything is superficial and surface level. They think they know him, but only a handful of people truly understand his personality.

So when Oikawa announces on the train home that he’s taking a girl out on a date, you and Iwaizumi can only passively nod, thinking that nothing will come of it. Then the second date happens, the third, the fourth, and then the stamp of the label between the two.

“I have a girlfriend now, guys!”

“Like actually? Sounds fake to me,” Iwaizumi scoffs, Oikawa taking offense.

“You wound me, Iwa-chan! What do you take me for, a heartless player?”

“Somewhat,” you jokingly supply, eyes still trained on your notes from your biology class. You don’t need to physically see him to know that he’s pouting and threatening to stick his tongue out at you. “Who’s the poor girl?” You ask, not really expecting much.

“She’s in your class, actually. Tachi Misaki?”

Your eyes stop registering any of the text that you’ve written. How did you miss that? How did you miss the fact that the girl he’d been dating was sitting only two rows away from you?

“Well,” you reply, clearing your throat. “All I can say is that you’re shooting above your level.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad, plus she’s really smart and pretty. She seems kinda low maintenance, pretty chill. Makes pretty good cookies. You think I could get her to learn how to make milk bread? But only if she has time.”

A heavy sigh leaves you as you stick a pencil between the pages and snap the notebook shut. Iwaizumi looks deep in thought before asking, “You think you’ll be able to handle her?”

“I mean, I’ve been going out on dates with her up ‘til now. She seemed fine and said she knew how busy my training schedule was. Like I said, she’s chill. Doubt she’s ever going to be super clingy or anything like that.”

By this time, you’ve all arrived at Oikawa’s house. He waves goodbye as he enters the front door, leaving Iwaizumi to walk you home.

“I give it three months, max,” you tell him. It’s mean, but you know Oikawa. He’ll be the most caring boyfriend in the beginning, but then he’ll get too comfortable, too complacent. He’ll unknowingly rely on the other person to comply with his needs rather than continuing to compromise to meet theirs. It’s only a matter of time before Misaki realizes that.

“I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt...maybe he’ll finally wake up, y’know. He’ll have an excuse to stop putting in extra practice or do something other than watching Shiratorizawa matches ‘til 2AM.”

At that, you cast a disbelieving look at him, his eyes catching yours. It isn’t long until you’re both failing to keep your laughter in. Oikawa Tooru? Ditching the opportunity for extra practice? Over his dead body.

Your estimation comes to fruition when Oikawa lightly dunks his forehead to lay on top of yours during the train ride home. The three of you had been standing near a pole, your own arm linked around it for some balance as you review and scribble some extra things into your notes from class. Oikawa is hanging on by a handle while Iwaizumi is grasping the part of the pole above your head.

“Misaki-chan broke up with me,” he spoke, loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear as well.

“Did she say why?” You ask, unable to move your head as you stare at the flap of his jacket.

“Becauseimtooobsessedwithvolleyball,” he mutters quickly.

“Say that again? And louder?” Iwaizumi teases.

Sigh. Straighten. “Because I’m too obsessed with volleyball,” he repeats a little bit louder, looking slightly ashamed and embarrassed that he, the great king of the court, the sole subject of so many girls’ affection, was ultimately dumped. The other part of the embarrassment masked the guilt he felt inside, having taken advantage of Misaki’s affections for him. Your eyes meet Iwaizumi’s, knowing that the conversation from months ago wasn’t said for naught. The sad, inevitable truth was there, and someone had to say it.

“It’s okay, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi nagged, patting the bachelor’s back. “You gotta make compromises, too.”

“But she knew! And we went on dates. That’s compromises, right?” Oikawa bemoaned, stubborn and petulant as ever. “It’s not like she wasn’t warned…”

“How many times did you guys go on a date?” You ask, attempting to get him to see reason. You know that the truth is there. He’s just fighting against full acceptance.

“Mmm, three times. No, four.”

“Three times in three months? Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath. “Okay okay, um, what’d you guys do on the dates?”

“(Y/n)-chan, are you jealous? You wanna go on a date with me?” He teases, a pointer finger poking your cheek. You squint at him before (gently) slapping the back of his head, causing him to rub the area out of mock pain.

“Ya, do you want to die?” You threaten. “I will throw you off this train if I have to.”

“Can I help?”

“Iwa-chan! Why are you on her side?? Shit, I need new friends.”

“Good riddance.”

“Stoooppp!”

From then on, Oikawa swears off girlfriends in high school. Everyone is too busy, and no one is going to understand him and be okay with what he does. Volleyball is his passion and dream, why is that so hard to get through people’s heads?

(But he knows that as much as he protests, he couldn’t give Misaki what she wanted. He wanted to make it work, he really did.)

The horde of fangirls only grows over the years. He’d rather hold a torch for no one than to try again. Nothing mattered more than a victory against Shiratorizawa and moving on to nationals. The fangirls’ affection would make up for any lack of a love life and Iwaizumi can only shake his head as a trail of hopeful hearts are left in the setter’s wake.

There are times when Oikawa is incredibly thankful for you, that at least he has some sort of close female companion that’s not his sister or mother. Even if you’re busier than ever, you still make time for him and Iwaizumi, whether it be attending their late practices or making sure that they finish their homework over the weekends. They can’t play if they’re failing classes.

(Y/n)’s personality is what he wants in a girlfriend, Oikawa realizes one night. Someone chill, someone understanding of his lifestyle, someone who goes out of their way to spend time with him. Someone he feels a connection with no matter the distance, someone he wouldn’t hesitate to go to if they needed him, someone who would always, always be there--

But he can’t possibly date you. Why risk losing you when he already has you within his grasp? There’s no need to worry about making time or planning for dates, no need to worry about coming up with a gift for White Day (as if he already doesn’t). There’s no need to worry about you leaving him now when his ugly, petty side manifests from time to time because you’ve seen it all. You would never leave him, he reaffirms to himself. You will always be by his side no matter where he is. He can always count on you to be in the bleachers during games, front and center, with the rest of the school cheer crowd. He can always count on you to lend him a shoulder, to pick up the phone at 4AM when he’s woken up anxious with thoughts going at a million a mile, to hand him two slices of milk bread on the weekends from their favorite bakery, to keep him in line with Iwaizumi.

Why risk voiding himself of all that, of so many memories, just to pursue the chance for some more intimacy?

And as Oikawa’s fingers hover over his lips, his mind reeling with flashbacks on how that kiss with you felt even two years later, the last thing he registers before succumbing to the nothingness of sleep is the painful tightening of his chest.

-

Oikawa is seventeen when he is reminded of how easy it is for him to lose you.

The three of you are sitting on a checkered blanket on top of a hill that overlooks the nearby area. A plastic bag holds a mix of canned beers and hard ciders, some empty and others waiting to be consumed. You’re taking it a little farther than you usually do, typically sipping one through the night. Yet you’re on your third and the two boys can only look at you with slight concern.

Your finals were particularly difficult -- part of you had still been recovering from the vicarious loss against Shiratorizawa, knowing how hard your two friends had taken it. It had only caused Oikawa and Iwaizumi to spend even more time in the gym after practice, a ferocity and drive in their muscles that you had never observed before. The amount of time and energy it took from you to forcibly change and drag them away from the court was substantial. Sleepless nights were dedicated to thinking of ways on how to lift them back up from whatever mental hell they created for themselves. In a sense, those nights paid off, but not without a price.

The alcohol tingles through your bloodstream and seems to slow everything down. You’re not drunk, but you don’t think you could appreciate the scenery before you as much as you are now if you were completely sober. Oikawa is going on about the constellations in the night sky, Iwaizumi teasing him relentlessly, and you can’t bother to fight the lazy smile that stretches across your face. Would you still have these nights with them if you had gone to Shiratorizawa?

“Did you know,” you softly interrupt them, unable to keep the secret any longer. It’s been two years, surely it couldn’t hurt. “Did you know...that I would’ve gone to Shiratorizawa if it hadn’t been for you two?”

The sound of cicadas has nothing on the sudden pounding of Oikawa’s heartbeat. Iwaizumi has an equally flabbergasted look on his face, searching your own as you pull up your knees and rest your chin on top of them. The lack of a verbal response only makes you chuckle, reaching down to grab your can and take another sip.

“Evidently it didn’t happen,” you drawl and then giggle. “Be-because I’m obviously at Seijou--”

“That’s not funny,” Oikawa interjects, voice hard and stern. “That’s not funny, you don’t get to say that and expect us to laugh it off. Why the fuck didn’t you tell us?”

“Why does it matter so much?” You mumble, suddenly desiring for the earth to open up and swallow you whole. “I clearly didn’t go, okay? Jesus--”

“No!” The setter yells, his face morphed by rage. “You were going to leave us? Why would that ever get into your brain, I mean, did we do something? Did we do something to push you to do something like that?”

“Hey, dude, calm down--”

“Don’t you get it, Iwa-chan? She was going to leave us and go to fucking Shiratorizawa of all places! She--”

“I thought you guys were going to accept their invite, okay?!” You interject, exasperated and frustrated. Evidently, you made a mistake in bringing this up now. “I didn’t realize how much you guys hated Ushijima’s guts and immediately changed plans once Aoba Johsai was on your agenda. So just stop, alright? It was two years ago and nothing’s gonna change.”

Oikawa pauses and attempts to reign in his anger. Why hadn’t you talked about it with them at the time? Why can’t he stop thinking about you donned in their maroon and white uniform, sitting casually in the bleachers of the gym, and instead of waiting for him and Iwaizumi, you’re waiting for Ushijima? Why can’t he stop thinking about how wrong that image looks, how much he’d like to be there and snatch you away because you’re his, you can’t abandon him--

“I’m sorry,” you apologize so mousily. Oikawa glances and sees the glisten of unshed tears, immediately relaxing and feeling guilty for being so hot-headed. It was the alcohol, for sure, he rationalizes before he turns to face you, scooching as close as possible to you. You’re still sitting in a fetal position as he slides one arm behind your waist and another wedges between your stomach and thighs. He buries his head into the crook of your neck. Your body welcomes the familiar heat and continues to relax as Iwaizumi lays his head on your shoulder. Instead of tears of sadness, you can only bask in the realization of how lucky you are two have these two doofuses in your life. The tears spill over as you sniffle, overcome with emotions that could only be so pronounced under the influence of alcohol.

“I’m so fucking lucky to have you guys,” you blubber. Oikawa’s grip tightens for a second as a tacit return of affection. “And I promised, didn’t I? I promised that I’d never leave you two, so you’re stuck with me. I wouldn’t wanna leave, even if you made me try.”

That’s right, Oikawa remembers. You promised -- and you would never go back on your word.

-

Oikawa is eighteen years old when he begins to truly understand the extent of your selflessness and how much of a selfish monster he can be when it comes to you.

It’s the night of their loss against Karasuno High, their last chance at defeating Shiratorizawa now gone and irreversible. Though tears had been shed towards his teammates, an overwhelming amount of gratitude and pride to have gone down fighting their hardest, the regret was eating at the two boys like nothing else.

Oikawa’s mother is working late -- you met them at the doorstep when they returned from the team dinner, saying nothing but holding up a bag of their favorite desserts. Minutes later, the three of you are a tangled and cuddled mess with the television quietly airing some old rerun of a child’s cartoon. It’s only when the boys’ cries have dwindled down into occasional sniffling do you dare to speak.

“I’m so proud of you two,” you begin but already feel yourself choke up again. “You did nothing but your best. I know how much this meant to you guys, but this isn’t the end. Time doesn’t stop here and you’re gonna go on to be even better players in uni. So don’t give up, okay?” You ask, hands squeezing whoever’s arm or arms you might be holding on to.

“Don’t give up when there’s so much left to fight for.”

They know you’re right. You’re always right in times like these.

Iwaizumi leaves about an hour later, eyes brighter and a small shit-eating grin on his face after about 13 brutal rounds of Uno. He won the majority of them, thankful that there was something to distract him for now. Oikawa promises to walk you home soon since it’s so late, earning a glare that could only mean “You fucking better, you shithead” and waving him off. Such a worry-wart. But when the front door clicks closed, the silence takes over once again.

Oikawa stands from the couch and stretches, gives a few twists before turning to look back at you. You’re curled up with your phone in hand, probably scrolling through social media or catching up on the news. “Hey,” he calls for you attention and holds out a hand. Don’t do this, he tells himself. “There’s something in my room that I need to return to you. Come with me?” Only delight fills his veins when you nod and set your phone down on the couch before sliding your hand into his. They stay linked as he leads you to his room, only separating when he lets go and you take refuge on this edge of his neatly-made bed.

As childish as he can be, you forget how tidy Oikawa is with his room. The books on his shelf are meticulously arranged by last name, photo frames strategically and aesthetically placed in empty spaces. His writing utensils are carefully arranged in a row on the side of his desk, and his drawer looks much of the same. Stapler, tape, sticky notes and tabs are all methodically placed, somehow speaking true to his leadership abilities.

Your observations are cut short when Oikawa sits down next to you with a book in hand, one that you had lent him months ago. To be honest, you completely forgot that he had it and you make it known to him.

“But did you like it?”

He nods with a small smile, yet his eyes are staring at the wall with a faraway look. He’s contemplating something, drawing plans in his brain, and after a couple of glances towards you, Oikawa gives in.

Much like that Friday afternoon four years ago, he leans his forehead on yours. A wave of deja-vu crashes over you as you’re once again plummeted into the dark ocean of his eyes. He keeps his gaze steady, searching for any kind of resistance. He needs something that only you can give him.

“You don’t have to say yes,” he whispers. You can feel a shiver crawl up your spine at the heaviness in his voice. “But I don’t know who else to ask. I don’t know why I can’t think of anyone but you.

“So can I please kiss you?”

What?

“But why?” You ask, the confusion so obvious in two words. Oikawa can only sigh to himself before carefully maneuvering you to straddle him, facing no objection from you. It’s just a kiss, he thinks to himself. It’s just a kiss that he wants with no strings attached to help with the emotional turmoil that only you could begin to understand. Your heartbeat feels like you’ve been swimming against the current for hours, your body betraying you as you let him bring one of your hands to his cheek. His eyes flutter closed and he languidly nuzzles into your palm, lips placing the softest, most intimate kiss there.

“I don’t know,” he breathes. Your heart aches and aches. “I swear that all I do know is that it can only be you. Please, please let me have this.”

And you can’t help but nod.

Unlike last time, Oikawa doesn’t surge forward. He instead bides his time, lips only barely ghosting over yours as he holds onto your waist. The contact becomes progressively fuller, more purposeful, as he completely slants his mouth over yours. In response, your fingers tangle themselves in the strands at the base of his neck and he finds himself drawing you closer to him, arms now completely wound around your waist.

This is a sin, he has to remind himself. This is a sin that only benefits him -- he is taking, he is stealing, he is feeding on an elixir at the cost of your soul. But his desires only overpower his guilt because as devilish as he may be, the sin feels like heaven. A paradise made by you created solely for him.

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth before gently sucking, eliciting the most delicate moan from your throat. The sound only flips a switch in his head as he applies more pressure, desperate to hear it again. Mine, he thinks as he begins to litter kisses down your neck, teeth catching skin to leave marks on you. Mine, he screams to himself as his hands peek under the edge of your shirt, skin on skin.

“Tooru--” you pant, trying to lean back and gather your thoughts. This is too much to handle. If you’re not careful, you’ll unlock the only thing that you swore you’d take to your grave, the three words that could ruin everything.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps before diving in for another quick kiss. “I’m not asking for sex. I just need you,” he confesses, pecks littered between his words. Oh, how you wish this were under different circumstances. How you wish that you could utter those three words without a care in the world and know that they’ll be reciprocated. Your lips meet his again and it feels like the earth has stopped on its axis.

Both of you are unaware of the amount of time that passes. Fervent kisses slowly diminish to a languid pace until it comes to a complete stop. Oikawa can only lean his forehead against yours, eyes hooded and chest heaving with you in a similar state. Neither of you have enough energy to find the right words. His arms only draw you into his chest and he can’t help but marvel at how perfect of a fit you are for him.

“I should probably head home,” you whisper. Being the man-child that he is, he shakes his head vehemently and momentarily refuses to let you escape his embrace.

“Do you have to?” He tiredly grumbles, reluctantly loosening his grip with a sigh as you slide off his lap. You nod and bend forward to give him one last kiss, the separation causing him to whine. You make your way towards his body-length mirror, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles and fix your hair. Oikawa hugs you from behind, his limbs wrapping around your shoulders.

“We’re okay, right?”

You nod. Don’t we have to be?

-

And that’s when Oikawa Tooru begins to slip through your fingers.

It’s a combined effort, really. Everybody’s trying to wrap things up, all the big competitions are jam packed into the last remaining weekends, and making room for last-minute college entrance exams. If people weren’t already at their wit’s end, then you can barely fathom the amount of anxiety and stress coursing through the halls of the school.

You use this to your advantage, finding yourself unable to go home with the boys, unable to visit them on the weekends, unable to respond to text messages frequently. You begin to learn to look past Oikawa rather than at him, not bothering to spare a second glance when he’s caught in the hallways by a group of infatuated admirers. You fail to see the way his eyes follow your passing figure or how he slows his pace when walking by your classroom, hoping to get a glimpse of you. You fail to see the disappointment on his face when your spot in the bleachers is empty. So he falters, redirects, and lets the distance increase.

The only time you reconvene with the two is after the graduation ceremony. Your mother would kill you if you left without a picture of you and your best friends, and clearly their mothers are thinking the same thing. Outside in the courtyard, the women spot each other, your mother almost dragging you behind her. They’re trying to find their respective sons, though it doesn’t take long because the sudden clambering and screaming of girls can only serve a few purposes. Oikawa and Iwaizumi are craning their heads before they’re able to finally spot the frantic waving from their mothers.

Soon, they’re in front of you, both individually giving a hug. “Congratulations,” you tell them with as much happiness as possible. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see them -- you’re all attending the same university. They thank you and return the festivities. It’s hard to miss how your hug with Oikawa lasts a little bit longer than normal, even more so when his hands trail down your arms before slyly slipping a small object into your hand. As you unfurl your fist, a shiny circular object is gleaning back at you. You spot a stray thread from his jacket and it hits you -- the devilish fox has given you his second button. You’d like to pretend to be unaffected, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“And if I don’t accept?” You challenge. For a second, Oikawa is genuinely taken aback. It’s obvious he didn’t expect you to consider rejecting the button and stumbles over his attempts to come up with a comeback. When he spots you fighting to contain your laughter, his embarrassment only pushes him to lightly shove your shoulder.

“For being my best female friend,” he elaborates. You deserve an award for containing the pain and bearing through it, pretending that his words don’t faze you in any ways. Iwaizumi only shakes his head at his friend’s idiocy -- what is he thinking?

“Oh I’m sorry,” you apologize in a mocking tone, pretending to bow. “Should I be groveling at your feet now like the other girls back there? Oh great king?”

“Why yes, I am indeed the great king--”

Smack. “You’re such an idiot,” Iwaizumi reprimands. The recipient of the hit pretends to bawl, resuming his childish antics once again.

That’s how high school ends, with two aching hearts and three families of laughter, all making way for the start of university.

-

Oikawa somehow makes it possible to balance his love life, volleyball, and his business major. Both he and Iwaizumi blend in nicely with the university team as your words from before ring in their brains. They could and are becoming better players -- high school suddenly seems so casual compared to the stakes at the university level. Teammates are constantly being scouted and the two begin to strive for the national team. Despite the fact that they barely see you anymore, Oikawa still dreams of his ideal future: he and Iwaizumi playing for Japan in Tokyo, with you having a job there and supporting them in the stands.

Sometimes he’s able to spot you on campus -- the building for the pharmacy program that you’re enrolled in is relatively far from the business building. Most times you’re walking with your classmates, giggling at something or engaged in a heated discussion. He thinks about how beautiful you look in your white coat with your hair tied back, your face donned with some makeup for the natural look and a pair of dainty earrings. Part of him boils in jealousy whenever there’s a male acting particularly close with you, but he knows he has no right to think that way. The thoughts only fuel him during volleyball practice, which seems to satisfy his coach.

It’s easy for him to like someone, he figures out two years in. It’s easy for him to get to know someone and pick up on their quirks. As a social butterfly, it’s not difficult for him to get along with his partner, but when it comes to developing deeper feelings...it just doesn’t happen. He wants so badly to reciprocate, especially considering how much effort some of his past partners have put in. But something stops him every time -- unwillingly, he’s become a master at letting people down easy, that he’s truly sorry he can’t reciprocate their love. On the other hand, Iwaizumi is pretty successful in his current relationship, going strong for the last year and a half. Oikawa seeks his advice at the club one night, keeping an eye out to see if there’s anyone he'd be willing to take home (not that he ever does).

At this point, Iwaizumi wonders how he’s still friends with him. Yes, he’s fiercely loyal and has been by Oikawa’s side since the beginning, but if the guy was going to do nothing but continue his descent into idiocy, there was very little he could do for him. (Y/n) had the same problem as Oikawa except you figured it out much, much faster.

“You idiot, you’re in love with another person.”

“...say what now?”

“That’s all it is. You’re in love with someone else. That’s why you feel like you can’t say it back when a different person tells you they love you.”

“If I was in love with someone else, wouldn’t I know?”

Yeah. Oikawa Tooru is a big, bumbling, messy pile of denial.

“You know what,” Iwaizumi sighs, setting his drink down before paying the tab. “You’re right. You’re in love with yourself.” Oikawa knows that he’s joking. Nothing could be farther from the truth -- he’s always dedicated himself to the happiness of others. That’s the role of him as a setter and captain: to bring out the best of his teammates’ abilities, but he can only do that if he’s at his best as well. His eyes cast another look into the dancing crowd. He downs his drink as someone catches his attention, also moving to pay his tab.

“Tell your girlfriend I said hi!”

Iwaizumi only gives him a lazy wave as he makes his way to the entrance. Oikawa is sliding his way onto the dance floor and when Iwaizumi spots who he’s wormed next to, he hopes that one day, Oikawa will really open his eyes.

Because he’s always going for girls who look wildly similar to you.

-

It’s hard to have an undefeated season. Some losses are harder than others and during the first two years, you, sweet, sweet (y/n), always managed to find him.

He needed you most on those rare days. Even after weeks of limited texting and quick passings on campus, there was a level of comfort that solely existed by being with you. He would attempt to joke and tease with you to put up a facade, but when you would lead him to his couch and leave your arms open, the veil would drop as he cried into your shoulder. He would then pick up his terrible, terrible habit of giving into sin (as long as he wasn’t dating anyone), selfishly knowing that you would never say no. He’ll ask you if this is okay, and you always say yes. The two of you never cross the line of anything more than making out, yet the kisses become less lust-ridden and more tender over time, laced with something much more meaningful.

(And with each time, it becomes harder and harder to refrain yourself from confessing.)

Oikawa reveled in being able to sigh against your lips, stealing your breaths from your lungs and even convincing you to stay the night. There were mornings when he truly felt that there was nothing better than waking up with his arm around your waist. He could squeeze you to his chest and wish for this all day. Sometimes, you woke up earlier than him and silently admired how peaceful he looked compared to the haggardness just hours before. With his hair so delicately splayed across his forehead, the ends curling up to defy gravity, a tiny scar dusting his right cheek, you would be painfully reminded of just how much you love him.

The last time you woke up next to him, you thought to yourself, “I can’t do this anymore.”

In the beginning of the third year, you fight every cell in your body to not go to him. Instead, you call him up and ask how he’s doing -- he doesn’t question it, doesn’t demand that you come see him. If there’s something preventing you from visiting him, he won’t ask about it. Even only a call brings him the warmth that he usually craved from you, though he knows nothing can satisfy him like your physical presence. The routine continues, volleyball practice becomes longer, and Oikawa thinks he’s finally getting used to this. This is the farthest you’ll distance yourself from him. There’s no way that you’d ever be more than a train ride away.

“are you guys free for coffee this weekend?” The text reads in the group chat. (Y/n) knows they don’t have a game, one of the rare breaks they get. Oikawa and Iwaizumi have the same schedules, so when Iwaizumi texts back “yh, where at?”, it’s for both of them.

“our favorite cafe restaurant by the bookstore okay? 1pm? my treat?”

“sounds good. see you then.”

“see you guys xx”

They think nothing of it -- it’s just a rare moment that everyone is free and able to catch up. Both dress up in their best casual streetwear, Oikawa even donning the glasses that you like so much. He’s nearly buzzing with excitement at finally being able to talk with you and have you within arm’s distance. Everything is normal when they walk into the cafe, spotting you in the corner booth. You’re quick to match their grins and give them both hugs, watching in delight as their eyes take in the milk bread, agedashi tofu, and a few other shareable dishes. They’re starting to think this is a bit of an apology meal for not having seen them in forever. It’s nice that whenever the three of you are together, there’s no awkwardness and everything seems to be back to normal.

Like how it’s supposed to be. But all good things must come to an end, right?

“It’s so nice being here with you two,” you laugh as you lean back against the vinyl leather. “I’m glad we could do this.”

“We need to do this more often,” Iwaizumi agrees. “We don’t have as many classes since we’re juniors now. Practice is still always the same so we should have more time to meet up. What about you?”

“Same here. Actually,” you pause, hesitant and scrambling for words. You’ve even rehearsed what you’re about to tell them, yet everything has been forgotten.

“I’m...I’m applying to doctoral programs in America.”

The boys look like two deer caught in the headlights. Oikawa is immediately filled with a sense of dread and fear -- his worst nightmare is slowly transforming into reality, unearthing its ugly head. A train ride is one thing, but a 13 hour plane ride? Time differences? A whole different country on the other side of the world?

“That’s...wow. That’s um,” Iwaizumi clears his throat. “That’s a big move. Why did you decide on America? I thought you wanted to start working after?”

“I’m enjoying pharmaceutical research more than I ever thought I would. We just actually got back from an international conference a few weeks ago -- there were so many interesting topics and studies being done. And...I thought it’d be nice to travel somewhere, you know. Have a change of pace.”

And you’re not completely lying. You’ve never really been outside of Japan before. Part of you wants to travel and see more of the world, especially after the conference in Berlin. Famous structures and streets that had been mere images on your computer or phone screen were suddenly physically before your eyes. You wanted to gain a better grasp of what it could offer and what you’ve been missing out on.

The other part of you felt stuck here. You needed an excuse to end the never-ending cycle that was Oikawa. It was an infinite loop of running to him, falling into his arms, attempting to put an obstacle on the bridge between you two, but then crossing over it to fall back into his arms again. You were never close to being free of him, not that you wanted to, but you wanted to know who you could be almost nearly without him. You wouldn’t be you if you were completely void of Oikawa Tooru. He would always have a part of your heart and be a part of your soul, no matter what.

“When would you leave?” Oikawa timidly asks, his gaze directed towards the crumbs on his plate.

“I’m actually on track to graduate by the end of this academic year. If I find a research group that wants me and is willing to provide me with adequate funding...I’d probably leave pretty soon after graduation. Y’know, get settled, meet my group, and...yeah.”

Silence ensues as the two boys figure out what to say. Your leg is bouncing restlessly beneath the table, fingers quietly tapping the side of your cup. Iwaizumi seems to be taking it pretty well, but Oikawa...you can’t tell.

All emotion is wiped from his face. He’s choosing to pierce holes in the wall by your head and his arms are crossed in front of his chest. He’s trying so hard to be mature about this and be happy for you, yet all he can register is the fact that you’re leaving. You’re leaving them, you’re leaving him, you’ll be gone forever and you’ll never come back, you’re going to find new friends, a new partner, a new bed that belongs to someone else to fall asleep in, oh how wretched--

“We’re gonna miss you,” Oikawa says, voice barely any louder than the tranquil music playing over the speakers. You feel like you’ve been transported back to when you were ten and breaking the news of quitting volleyball, hearing the same four words spoken in a very similar manner. Your heart settles and softens, you relax and reach over the table to grab one of their hands in each of yours. Iwaizumi doesn’t hesitate to give a friendly squeeze while Oikawa’s grip is only limp at best. But after a few seconds, it tightens and tightens until you understand the message: please don’t go.

“We’ve spent our whole lives together. I’ve told you two this before and I’ll say it again -- I’m so lucky that I have you guys. Part of me is able to do this because I know you’ve always got my back and I know that’s not going to change, even when I’m halfway across the world. So keep in touch? Please?”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi reaffirms and Oikawa nods. You express your thanks and retract your hands, trying to ignore the way that Oikawa’s fingers linger for as long as they can without being too obvious. The three of you eventually leave, bidding goodbye to your waitress and cashier, and continue to amble down the streets. Time always flies when you’re with them, conversation never truly ending. Eventually Iwaizumi has to leave to meet his girlfriend for dinner and Oikawa, being the gentleman that he always is, ensures that he’ll bring you home safe and sound. As the two of you wave goodbye and watch him disappear into the crowd, Oikawa offers his arm to you. He sees the pleasant surprise on your face and can’t help the smile on his own as you wrap your hand around the crook of his elbow.

The two of you continue to chat -- you fill him in on all the little details of your life that he had missed. In return, he does the same, eliciting so many different emotions from you. The pain in your heart increases when you realize just exactly how far away you’ve been from him. You choose to ignore that he’s taking the long way to your apartment, relishing in this rare time you have with him. Oikawa is the only person to make you feel like there truly wasn’t enough time in the world to spend with the one you love.

This must be what it’s like to date you, he realizes. Your hand is still wrapped around his arm, even when the limb became tired and settled for tucking his hand into his jacket pockets. He drinks in every laugh, every scoff, every grin, every gasp of surprise. Very few things bring him greater satisfaction than the way your eyes sparkle when he buys one of your favorite snacks off a food cart or when he points out something that reminds him of you. He never wants you to let go -- all he wants now is to collapse into your bed and wake up with his arm around your waist once again.

Before he knows it, they’re in front of your door, fiddling with your keys. He leans against the wall by your door as you locate the right one, but you hesitate.

“This was really fun. Thanks for basically spending your whole day with me.”

“I wouldn’t trade it for the world,” he replies, unable to stop the words from flowing out of his mouth. “It’s been a while since we’ve hung out like this.”

“Yeah, it has been.”

Silence.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks with eyes full of hope. You’d have to be blind to not notice them, yet you would still be able to tell by the tone of his voice.

“Of course,” you reply with a small smile. “Until you get sick of me.”

Oikawa scoffs, but puts on a sincere face as he quips back, “Never.”

In all the years that you’ve been friends with him, nothing has ever sent blood rushing to your cheeks so fast. Your heartbeat quickens at an alarming rate and it doesn’t help as he begins to lean down, getting closer and closer to your face.

At the last second, he dips his head to the right and places a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek. Before you can blink twice, he’s already walking backwards with the cheekiest grin on his face, a cute little wave towards you. He then turns on his heels and makes his way to the elevator with a bit of a skip in his step.

You don’t even remember unlocking your door and toeing off your shoes. Your entire body feels like lead, yet also buzzing with excitement. And as you’re collapsed on your bed, staring at the ceiling, all your brain can comprehend and tell you is that Oikawa Tooru is truly the bane of your existence.

-

Oikawa does his best to stay true to his word.

Even with fewer classes, there’s always something that he needs to finish: that project, this homework assignment, extra practice -- sometimes, he wishes he hadn’t been in uni. Or at least picked a different major. When he can, he tries to visit you on nights, sometimes sheepishly empty-handed, other times holding a bag of your favorite pastries. “Are you trying to fatten me up?” You joke one night before biting into your favorite flavor of macaron. “More to hold and hug,” he teases back, causing you to give him a light whack on his arm.

He’s there when you nervously submit all your applications. He’s there when you receive offers to interview. He’s there when you get your first official acceptance. And of course, he’s there when you make your final decision. There’s no hesitation when you jump into his arms after submitting your confirmation of acceptance to University of California – San Francisco, though he wishes you could be there forever. Weeks begin to roll by, much quicker than he’d like. The usual cheery and joyful chattiness of when he usually visits evolves into comfortable silence, both of you settling for watching some space documentary on Netflix most nights. Oikawa hates how the inevitable is slowly creeping up his spine and more often than not, he’s torn between wanting to either just rip the Bandaid off or try to stop time.

The approaching reality of you physically leaving him starts to take its true form when you ask him to tag along on the hunt for suitcases. You want to get at least one of those large suitcases that have to be checked in to try to bring as much stuff as possible. The whole time, Oikawa is half numb, though he tries his best to give his honest opinions on the suitcases you consider. He knows what a big step this is as he watches you eagerly pay for your final selection. However, nothing hits him harder than when he comes into your apartment a week before your graduation and there’s a wide array of empty, mismatched cardboard boxes in every room.

To drive the stake in even further, the recently purchased suitcase lies wide open in your bedroom with some stray objects already neatly tucked in. Yet the one that catches his eye is a picture frame placed in a bubble wrap sleeve. It holds the physical memory of you, him, and Iwaizumi at your high school graduation, each person with their own bouquet of congratulatory flowers. There’s a reason you have this specific shot framed out of all the ones between the parents combined; reason being the fact that Oikawa isn’t looking at the camera lens, but rather looking at you.

His eyes glinted with pride and care in that picture, a certain softness in his posture. The picture has always sat demurely in a back corner of your desk. However, some friends or recent classmates that have been in your room have taken note of it, excitedly asking you, “Is this your boyfriend??” It’s more painful when you have to tell them he’s not, only just a very close childhood friend. A very close childhood friend that you’ve kissed multiple times and will always give your heart to, but you leave that part unsaid. .  

Oikawa spends the night with you, taking much longer than usual to fall asleep. You’ve already passed out next to him, mouth slightly agape and hands curled up near your face. Quietly, he adjusts his weight onto his elbow, leaning his cheek into his hand. His other hand gently tucks the strands of hair that have fallen over your face behind your ear. To him, you look nothing short of angelic. He hates that he’s only able to spend time like this with you as the clock is ticking -- he wishes that he made more of an effort to meet and see you during your first two years. Perhaps he wouldn’t feel so anxious at the thought of you leaving. Perhaps the two of you would’ve established something that would guarantee your return.

At this thought, Iwaizumi’s words ring in his head.

You’re in love with someone else, that’s why you feel like you can’t say it back when a different person tells you they love you.

They continue to ring as he finally falls asleep. They ring as he only wakes up hours later, settling on trying to quickly whip up breakfast for you. They’re loudest when you quietly pad up to him and rest your chin over his shoulder, nearly scaring the shit out of him. Even then, his body can’t help but relax from the feeling of your body pressed against his back.

Even as he prepares for his finals, you’re in love with someone else.

Even in the midst of presenting a final project for class, you’re in love with someone else.

All the way up until he’s parked in a seat, arms cradling a bouquet of your favorite flowers, tucked between Iwaizumi and your mother at your graduation ceremony, you’re in love with someone else.

And when he’s cheering his loudest for you as you cross the stage, pausing to shake the university’s president’s hand and receive your diploma, his heart finally settles on the unshakeable truth that he probably knew all along.

I’m so fucking in love with (y/n).

“I’m so fucked,” he mutters to himself, but not quiet enough because Iwaizumi catches it.

“What’d you do, shithead?” He leans in to ask so your mother doesn’t hear. Oikawa only shakes his head, his leg subconsciously beginning to bounce anxiously. Iwaizumi takes a look at the leg, then a look at his face, and when he catches how Oikawa’s eyes follow you happily ambling off the stage, the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. After years and years of living in pure oblivion, Oikawa has finally understood just how much he loves you.

“God, you have such shit timing, you dickhead,” Iwaizumi groans, fingers pinching and massaging the bridge of his nose.

“What did he do?” His girlfriend on his other side asks. He leans over to briefly kiss her cheek, murmuring a “I’ll tell you later,” in her ear before turning back to his best friend.

Oikawa feels like a nervous schoolboy with the way his face is construed, his hands grasping the flower stems like it’s his lifeline. He begins to think about how he should confess to you – should it be during a candlelit dinner? On the roof of your apartment under the stars? Should he take you to a park or by the beach? A million more scenarios run through his head as the rest of the graduation ceremony proceeds. He stands in a daze as the students begin to file out, the families in the stands soon following suit. His body stiffly stands to follow your family and creaks like a rusty robot, absolutely unprepared to face you with his new revelation. The only thing that brings him out of his head is when Iwaizumi yanks him back by the collar of his shirt, practically choking him in the process. His throat coughs and fights for oxygen as he rubs at his neck, watching your mother disappear into the crows before turning to Iwaizumi with a pitiful and defeated look.

“What the hell was that for, Iwa-chan? Why—”

“You are not telling her right now, you hear me?” Iwaizumi threatens in a hushed voice.

“But—”

“She’s leaving. In a week. To America. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Can’t that be for her to decide? She can turn me down, but I need to tell her!” Oikawa cries out as the three of them do their best to stay out of other people’s way, pressing themselves to their seats as much as possible. People are casting them either curious or nasty looks for being obstacles in an increasingly heated argument, but they could also care less.

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes at him, then stabs a finger to his chest. “What you want, what you need…it’s always been that way for you when it comes to her. Have you ever stopped to consider what she wants?”

“Of course I have, what do you take me for?!”

“What do I take you for?! I take you for an idiot who spent years taking advantage of her!” Iwaizumi drives his point by jabbing the finger on his chest again. “I take you for an idiot who knew that she could never say no to you and you still used her whenever it was convenient! You think you’ve been such a martyr—”  

“I didn’t do that! I—”

“Then prove it,” Iwaizumi hisses. “Prove to us that you genuinely care about what she needs. You know what she needs right now? She needs us, her friends, to go out there, find her, and congratulate her with flowers. Then, we’re gonna go to our favorite place with her family and celebrate her. Today’s about her and her achievements. We’re gonna be happy for her because that’s what she needs today. That’s what she deserves.”

Most of the crowd have trickled towards the lobby by now, leaving the three of them with a few student workers running around to pick up trash and stray programs in preparation for the next ceremony. Iwaizumi sighs, seeking comfort in the way that his girlfriend slides her hand into his. Everything that he had been holding in is now out in the open.

“You think you can do that, Tooru?” He asks in a calmer voice.

“…yeah.”

Oikawa tries his best to keep his feelings at bay. They threaten to spill when your eyes drink in the bouquet he’s brought for you, a pure smile of delight as you lean in to catch a whiff of your favorite flowers. It’s even harder when you give him a friendly peck on the cheek, quickly moving to give Iwaizumi and his girlfriend hugs. He can’t stop sneaking glances your way during lunch, watching how happy you seem to be as you verbally recall the last three years. His mind does its best to stay involved in the conversation, yet it doesn’t cease to drift towards Iwaizumi’s words. It’s heart-wrenching because everything he said was true – he had knowingly taken advantage of your lack of resistance, had knowingly acknowledged that he was committing a certain sin in life, driven by greed and desire. He knew years ago that he could never get enough of you and would never be able to.

“…your plans after this?” He hears your mother ask you, her voice reminding him to be an active participant in this chat.

“I kind of just want to go home and get out of this dress, probably start up my packing again. I had to put that on hold with finals and everything.”

“We can come help you if you want.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I might even take a nap first.”

“You can take a nap while I help you pack,” Oikawa interjects without a thought. He just wants more time with you. You look skeptical and he puts on an affronted expression. “I’m a really neat and organized packer, thank you very much. You think I’m some poor slob who can’t properly fold a shirt?”

“It’s exactly what I think.”

“Hey, don’t be so mean! I’ll prove it.”

“Fine,” you say with a smirk widening. “But I’m kicking you out if it isn’t up to my standards.”

“Yes ma’am!” He replies like a soldier, comically saluting with two fingers. Iwaizumi shoots him his best warning glare as the table resumes chatting.

About an hour later, the two of you are walking side-by-side in the direction of your apartment. The pace is slow with your heels on, especially as they become more and more painful. Eventually, you let out a big huff and stop in your path to slip off your heels, picking them up by the straps and letting them hang off your fingers. Your gown, stole, and chords are draped over your other arm, the other hand holding onto the cap and flowers. Oikawa watches as you sigh happily and wiggle your toes before you continue the trek barefoot. He’s terrified that you’ll get a staph infection and stops you.

Without saying anything, he takes the graduation gown from your arm and fits it over you, thankful that the bottom of it nearly reaches your ankles. Your arms have a mind of their own as they slip into the sleeves. He crouches for bit and fiddles a little bit before pulling your zipper up, then takes your cap and fits it onto your head. Before you can question his actions, he sweeps around to lift you up in his arms bridal style, causing you to yelp at the sudden motion. One of your arms is already swung around his neck, the other just trying to make sure your heels, chords, and stole don’t drop. Oikawa adjusts his grip a little, then looks down at you.

“You okay?”

You’re incredibly flustered, saying nothing but giving a few nods. He gently smiles before bringing you closer to his chest. Eventually, you place everything into your lap, leaving your other arm free to lie over the flowers on your stomach. You have an internal battle with yourself on whether you should link your free limb around his neck or not – do you want to come off as clingy? Would Oikawa mind? Would it make him uncomfortable? You soon decide, fuck it. You just graduated, you deserve to be pampered a little bit, even if it means treating yourself to indulging in one of your longtime fantasies with the man you secretly love.

Even though your face is already pretty close to his, by wrapping both arms around him, you’re practically nuzzling into the side of his neck. He smells faintly of the cologne that you gifted him last year for his birthday. It brings you fond memories of your life with him so far, how even through all the pain of unrequited love, every second has been absolutely worth it.

“Thank you,” you murmur and tighten your grasp. “For everything. For being my best friend, for always being there for me.”

“You don’t need to thank me, silly,” he replies affectionately. “You know we love you, right?”

“I know. I just wanted to make sure that you knew how much I appreciate it, that’s all.”

“…I’m so proud of you, (y/n). Look at you, finishing in 3 years and going to California for your PhD. Maybe I should’ve tried harder to convince you to stay in Japan, but I know you wouldn’t have been as happy. Is it too late to still try to persuade you?”

You unwind an arm to smack his chest lightly, playfully scolding him as you fully hold onto him again.

“Don’t even think about it. Of course it’s too late.”

“Well, then there’s no harm in still trying, right?”

“Tooru!”

“Okay, okay, fine~.”

-

Once you’re home, you grab random articles of clothing from your closet before heading into the bathroom to change. Oikawa offers to find a vase for the bouquet during this time, your ears hearing the clinking of glass and the snipping of stems. You didn’t realize you had grabbed Oikawa’s spare jersey he had given you the summer before your first year of university, only noticing after you begin to fit it over your head. The flush in your cheeks is subtle as you slip on a pair of pajama shorts, a giddy feeling filling your chest.

When you step out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen, Oikawa’s back is facing you as he continues to arrange the flowers. Something about the scene feels comfortably domestic, as if Oikawa just returned home from work and decided to surprise you with a little gift, insisting that he put it together for you. You’re almost expecting him to give you a kiss on the cheek before saying, “I’m home, dear.”

In the midst of your thoughts, Oikawa is satisfied with his work, grabbing the vase and turning with the intent to let you see his work. He startles when he sees you leaning against the wall and staring at him, yet his heart fails to calm once he realizes you’re in his jersey. Part of you suddenly feels shy with the way he can’t stop admiring you, yet another part is filled with newfound confidence. Your feet softly pad towards him, relishing in the fact that you can render the great Oikawa Tooru speechless. He lets you take the vase from him, still frozen in his spot as you gently place a kiss on the corner of his lips. If he were more composed and more cognizant of his actions, he would have taken you up in his arms and kissed you for real. You take the vase from his fingers and place it on your dining table, appreciating the delicate hue of the petals. It’s a shame that you’ll have to get rid of them soon since you’re leaving in a week.

“Come on, Tooru. Time for you to show me how good your shirt-folding skills are!”

Progress in packing is slow as the two of you talk and laugh, the sound of The Good Place quietly playing on Netflix from the small TV in your room softly filling the room. Eventually, Oikawa refuses any of your help, practically ordering you to stay in your bed and leave it to him. In the familiar warmth of your comforter, you fight to stay awake as exhaustion from the morning events creeps through your body. Before long, you’re taking a last look at Oikawa’s side profile sitting on your floor next to a pile of unfolded clothes and falling asleep soon after. It takes a few minutes for him to realize that you haven’t said anything in a while, only chuckling to himself when he sees you slipped away to the dreamworld.

For the next hour or so, he folds and packs your clothes in silence. The pile dwindles and shrinks until there’s none left, though there’s still some in your closet that you’ll be wearing over the next week. You’re still asleep on your side – he can’t find it in himself to wake you, instead doing his best to climb over you and sit on the empty side of the bed without jostling you. Just as he finds a comfortable half-lying, half-sitting position against a pillow and the headboard, you unconsciously do a full 180-degree turn and snuggle closer to him. One of your legs twists around his, your arm slinging over his waist.

Oikawa’s heart almost wants to fly out of his chest. Had it really been over a little more than a year since you last slept next to him? Was this going to be the last time that he’d experience this?

Was this going to be his last chance?

He must’ve nodded off in the end. Your voice speaks to him in his subconscious, softly calling out his name. His body is curled up on the side where you were sleeping, arms stretched out as he finally wills his eyes to open. His vision is blurry and heavily veiled with sleep, needing a few blinks to register that you’re bent over with your face very close to his. He wants to be wakened like this every day, to the sound of your voice rather than an obnoxious alarm tone from his phone. With all the strength he can muster, his arm reaches out to grab one of your wrists and gingerly pulls you towards him. You giggle as you snuggle into the little space you have, his arms hugging you tightly to ensure you don’t fall over the edge.

“Five more minutes,” he pleads, nuzzling into your hair. “Or we can go back to sleep, I don’t mind…”

“Tooru, we need to eat dinner though.”

“But I have you,” he mumbles without thought, clearly saying whatever first comes to his mind.

“That doesn’t make any sense though.”

“It makes all the sense in the world, silly (y/n)…come on, let’s sleep some more…”

“Even if there’s fresh omurice waiting to be eaten?”

“Mmm…did you make it?”

“Yes, I did.”

Oikawa sighs again before moving his hand from your back to rub his eyes. “Well, we can’t let your hard work go to waste then, right?”

“Not at all.”

You disentangle yourself and ignore how your body aches to lay with him again. Your hands take one of his own in your grasp, pulling him from the bed and towards the dining table where a fresh plate of omurice awaits them. Oikawa doesn’t forget his manners, pulling out a chair and indicating for you to sit in it. Like a true gentleman, he’s cognizant of how he pushes the chair back in to meet your sitting position, ensuring that you’re comfortable before moving to his own seat. The two of you say your thanks quickly before digging in.

Dinner is a quiet ordeal besides the occasional laughter. He tries to play footsies with you underneath the table, having full advantage with his longer legs. You threaten to flick rice at him if he keeps at it, but as time passes by, it’s clear your words hold no weight. Light banter continues when you bring the plates to the sink, refusing any offers of help from him. He settles for having an arm around your shoulders, leaning some of his body weight onto you. His eyes watch you with love and fascination as he berates himself for not figuring it out earlier. Things would have been different, and life would have been much better.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he murmurs, tone solemn and heavy as you begin to dry off the dishes.

“I know. But I’ll be back in a few years, you know?”

“A few years sounds like forever though.”

“It’ll be over before you know it, Tooru.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

He’s still searching for words when you’ve put the last plate in the drying rack, folding the towel neatly on the counter. You turn to face him directly, causing his arm to slide off your shoulders. He delicately grasps your hands with his and plays with your fingers, eyes focused on them and unable to meet your own. Iwaizumi’s warning voice blares through his head – why, why did he always have to be so selfish when it comes to you? Why did he always give in?

“Tooru, what—”

“I love you, (y/n).”

He’s gone and done it now. His eyes are ablaze with passion as they attempt to convey the depth of his feelings, boring straight into your own shocked gaze. He means it more than anything right now. You have to understand that he’s serious, that he doesn’t mean this in a platonic sense. Without a doubt, he would do anything for you. Could you see that in him?

He begins to panic when you slowly detach your hands, your expression hardening before you turn to occupy yourself with something else. You search for something before heading towards your living room and start packing the decorations into a cardboard box that’s cradled against your hip.

“(Y/n), please—”

“You don’t mean it,” you bite out and somewhat harshly smack a book into the box. “You’re only saying it because—”

“I’m not saying it just because you’re leaving, I swear,” he vows, following you as you pack away more things. “Just look at me—”

“How could you?!” You say accusingly, slamming your box onto the floor and whipping around to look at him. Oikawa isn’t entirely surprised by the tears streaming down your face, yet his heart still breaks at the sight.

“(Y/n), I—”

“What were you expecting?” You ask hoarsely, throat choked with tears. “Did you expect me to just accept it and run into your arms?! We’re going to be on opposite sides of the world for at least four years, and you wanted to start something with me a week before I leave?”

“I can’t lose you!” Oikawa cries out. He watches you collapse into your couch, head buried in your hands to control your sobs. He follows and sits as close as possible in front of you on the floor, reaching up to remove your hands from your face. “I can’t lose you more than I already have,” he whispers dismally, thumbs wiping tears from your cheeks. Out of fatigue, he places his cheek on your knees, eyes closing as you lay your hand on top of his head.

“Tooru, you—”

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he interrupts, striving to get you to see how much this is for him. “I never knew what it was until recently, but you have to know by now that I would do anything for you. You can call me up at 4 in the morning, ask me for my umbrella even when I’m 20 minutes away. You could even ask me to drop volleyball, and I’d do it. Just to make you happy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you depressingly chastise as your fingers give in and demurely run through his hair. “I would never ask you to give up volleyball, and even if I did, you’d resent me til the day we die. Hell, you’d resent me in your grave for all I know.”

“You’d still be my everything.”

At his words, you choke out another sob. This had been everything you were dreaming of, except Oikawa’s timing was just so off. You would have to spend the first four years of your relationship without him, and long distance wouldn’t be easy. Even though he would do everything to make it work, you’d worry about burdening him when he has so much he wants to live for. Wouldn’t it affect his playing? His studies? Would he eventually get tired of waiting for you and leave?

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” You sniffle.

“The chance of a lifetime, that’s what I’m getting into,” he quickly replies. He turns to rest his chin where his cheek originally on, facing you with eyes of zero hesitation. His expression softens when he senses the doubt in your face and reaches up to remove your hands from his hair, grasping them softly and placing them on your thighs. “I’ve already wasted years not being with you, and I don’t intend to lose another second. So please, please give me this chance.”

Your head is dizzy with all this information. You need time, you need clarity. You need to think this out before diving in, no matter how much you want to comply right now.

“Let me think about it, ok?” You weakly propose. “This has happened all so fast and I just need some time to think it over. This is really big for us, and I just wanna make sure we’re doing the right thing.”

“I’ll wait forever if I have to,” he agrees, then ghosting his lips over your knuckles.

“You can’t see me until we’re at the airport though,” you add in, causing him to whine in objection. “I’ll give you my answer then. It’s just a week.”

“Can I still call you?”

“Of course, you big wuss,” you tease.

“Hey, I just confessed my feelings here, cut me some slack!” He cries, pouting afterwards. You somehow still have the energy to giggle at his antics, happy that some things never change.

“You need to leave soon, Tooru.”

“No,” he objects and wraps his arms around your legs. “I don’t wanna.”

“Tooru—”

“Only if you kiss me before I leave.”

You let out a sigh, yet still smiling. “Deal.”

He removes himself and gets out of the way, stretching as he stands when you push yourself off the couch. Even for the short distance from the living room to the door, Oikawa insists on holding your hand. He grabs every second he can with you, still holding on when he’s slipping his shoes on.

“I’m waiting for my kiss,” he says with a lilt in his voice. His eyes are shining and expectant, causing you to roll your own playfully. For the first time in 21 years, you’ll be kissing Oikawa with no feelings hidden, no motives unsaid.

He meets you halfway, softly cradling your cheek with his free hand. His lips against yours bring a wave of nostalgia – god, how you both missed this, the feeling of being able to lose yourself in another person. How you both missed forming that bubble again where nothing mattered but the two of you being there together. You can’t help but think about how much you’re going to miss this in America, how it’ll be months, years, before you can ever fall into Oikawa’s arms again.

Oikawa wants nothing more than to toe his shoes off and have you jump into his arms. He wants nothing more than to carry you to your room and show exactly how much he loves you, but it’s not in your wishes. Don’t be selfish, he reminds himself. You asked for time and space to think about your future with him – if he wants to make this work, thinking of solely his own desires needs to stop here. He must prove to you that it’ll be worth it, that there’s no reason to lose any more time than you’ve already lost.

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” he apologizes quietly.

“It’s okay. But consider this week as punishment, if you’d like.”

He pouts. “I really can’t come see you?”

You give a small grin, a pointer finger moving to tap his nose. “Nope.”

With that, he sighs begins to walk out the door, but not before stealing another peck. The action only makes you laugh and playfully push him over the door threshold, waving as he walks backwards with a pout. You don’t close the door until he’s turned the corner, nearly collapsing against it once the deadbolt is locked in place. Everything hits you all at once again, leaving you reeling and almost gasping for air. Your heart won’t cease its rapid pace, though it seems to come to a full halt when your phone chimes with a text message from him.

“Good night, (y/n). I love you.”

Yes, it’s amazing how lucky you are.

-

Without fail, Oikawa texts and calls you every day. He never fails to remind you that he loves you. Twice, he orders delivery to your door because he knows you need to pack your kitchen. A man who buys you food as a surprise and seems to always know what you’re in the mood for? It’s as if the universe is telling you to hurry up and marry this guy.

And Oikawa, trying to be the responsible person that he is, doesn’t see you until they’re sending you off at the airport. Your parents had offered to pick him and Iwaizumi up from his place, especially since it was a little early in the morning. A taxi drops you and your suitcases off at the gate. You hadn’t spotted them when you got in and made a move to go ahead and check your bags in. After you had finished dropping them off, you had turned around to wait outside of the check-in area and spotted the four of them chatting while waiting for you. Even with it being so early in the morning, you can’t help but break out into a smile at seeing them, speeding up your pace as much as you can with the carry-on suitcase lugging behind you.

“Thank you, guys, for coming all this way,” you express your gratitude while embracing Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

“What kind of shitty friends would we be if we didn’t?” Iwaizumi asks as you move to hug your parents. Your mother keeps an arm around you at the end, already fighting her tears.

“Mom…”

“Do you have everything you need?” She interjects, voice choking up. “Phone? Wallet? Passport? Boarding pass? New SIM card? Emergency cash?”

“They’re all here,” you say, pointing to the locations of each item. “I’m gonna be okay, mom.”

“Don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything, ok?” Your father reminds you. “We’re only a call or text away.”

“I know. I’ll try to make it home on the holidays or something, but if not, I’ll be back in a few years at least.”

“What if you end up meeting someone and want to stay in America with them?” Your mother sniffles, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

“Well,” you hesitate, casting a quick look towards Oikawa. When his gaze meets yours, you begin to feel more confident about the answer that you settled on yesterday. You know he’s anxious to find out what you’ve decided. “I’m sure that’s not going to happen. Can I have a minute with Tooru please? Alone?”

Your mother’s eyes widen in realization before she’s quick to shoo off your father and Iwaizumi. Once they’re out of earshot, Oikawa looks at you expectantly.

“Do I get my answer today?” He inquires, removing his hand from his jacket pocket to hold one of yours. You take the initiative to interlace your fingers with his, giving a tight squeeze.

“Mmm,” you hum while fishing out your phone with your free hand. Oikawa watches anxiously as you tap and scroll through something, breath baited as your eyes seem to light up at finding what you need. You turn the screen to him and ask, “Does that answer your question?”

At first, he’s confused. Oikawa sees a contact page open and automatically notices it’s his number. It’s not until his vision drifts back to the top of the page where his name usually was. In the past, it had been “crappykawa” with a smiling emoji, but to his delight, it now reads “the boyfriend­TM”.

His excitement prompts him to lift you from the waist and spin you around in a few circles. You shriek and shake with laughter as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck to hold on, your eyes closed tightly until he puts you down. Even then, he doesn’t detach himself from you and leans down to kiss you sweetly, never wanting to let up. It doesn’t matter that you’re leaving him in the next few minutes – he’d rather have this than nothing at all.

Minutes later and after more teary goodbyes, you walk through the line towards security. The four of them watch as you exchange pleasantries and answer questions by the guard checking your boarding pass and passport. Once you’ve been cleared, you turn around once more to give a final wave, before disappearing behind the gray walls. After you pass security and find somewhere to eat a quick breakfast, you check your phone. There’s a Snapchat from Oikawa that you immediately move to open. It’s a selfie taken at an angle where his phone would’ve been in his lap. He has his characteristic pout on his face and the caption reads, “i already miss you, my love.”

And at that moment, you know, you can feel it with every ounce of your being, that everything is going to be okay.

-

(epilogue)

Months after you moved to California, Oikawa received his invite to play for a professional volleyball team in Argentina. He consulted his closest friend, you, his coaches, and they all agreed on one thing: he’d be stupid to turn it down.

It wasn’t the Japan national team, but it was definitely an opportunity of a lifetime. He greatly admired the national Argentine team as a child, and that admiration never wavered. On the plus side, it would make the long-distance relationship easier with you, as the time difference would be cut significantly.

The relationship experienced its ups and downs. Some main recurring themes of contention involved his tendency to overwork himself and your frequent late nights in the lab, as well as your disregard for your physical and mental health during times of high stress. They were issues born out of love and care, and they were worked on to help each other improve. You’d always livestream his volleyball matches and he would attempt to stay up with you on a video call if you were in the lab or up late studying, reminding you to drink water and eat something nutritious.

Oikawa found time to visit you during rare extended breaks in the off-season. He’d always make sure that you two would video call Iwaizumi together, wearing a shit-eating grin when Iwaizumi would pick up the call and roll his eyes. In return, you saved up and visited him in Argentina, though only able to stay up to a week at most. The new life was a little difficult and strange, but he made it work. He loved his teammates, he loved you, he loved volleyball, and he couldn’t ask for more.

You finished your doctorate in four years, just as you had predicted. You already had a job lined up before graduation at an academic hospital in Tokyo, allowing you to practice pharmacy and continue research. Not only that, Iwaizumi also earned a position in the top volleyball team in Japan, leaving Oikawa to be ecstatic. His personal dream from so many years ago was finally coming together – the three of you together in the same city, and him and Iwaizumi on the same superior team, even if it meant playing with Kageyama Tobio and Ushijima Wakatoshi. But he’d get used to it eventually.  

When you first returned to Tokyo, you were happy to see that not much had changed. Oikawa had another couple of years in Argentina before he would return to Japan and join Iwaizumi on the team. A few weeks in, you were already enjoying your job immensely – the only thing missing was your boyfriend.

A year has passed, and you are currently sitting at home in front of the TV with a mug in your hands. You’re dressed down in your comfiest sweatpants and Tooru’s jersey from university days. A white gold chain holding a simple silver ring hangs daintily around your neck as a token and symbol of a promise. You check your phone and frown a little – Tooru hadn’t texted or called you all day, though he did mention he would be busy with preparing for an upcoming practice match. You’re now worried that Tooru’s overworking himself again, holding the device now to send a quick text reminder to take breaks and stretch afterwards.

You toss your phone to the side and try to focus on the humorous game show, picking up on how ridiculous some of the antics were. American game shows had nothing on the ones here in Japan.

Someone rings your doorbell. At first, you think it’s the postman dropping off a package you had been expecting and make no move towards the door. But the doorbell is rung once again, leaving you to hesitantly approach the entrance. You peek through the spyhole and spot a young man outside, hat slipped on backwards, glasses perched on his nose, and hands stuffed into his pants pockets. He’s looking away from you and has suitcases around him, but you can recognize that side profile from anywhere. Could it be?

You fumble with the lock and throw open the door as your heart threatens to beat out of its chest. The young man finally looks up at you and you gasp as tears spring forward to your eyes.

Oikawa Tooru is standing right in front of you with the most beautiful smile on his face that you have ever seen.

He’s ready to catch you when you squeal and run into his arms, dissolving into laughter as you blubber into his neck and attempt to make sense of what’s happening. Tooru spins you around a few times for good measure, relishing in the comfort of your body against his. It had been too long since he last held you, and luckily, he’d never have to wait that long ever again.

His invite came as a phone call not too long ago, personally from the coach of the team that Iwaizumi had joined. They were willing to wait for him if he wanted another year in Argentina as he had originally planned, but Tooru decided that it was time to come back. He had buzzed with excitement as he planned out his great return, wanting so badly to surprise you. It’d go down in the book as one of the best reveals of a major life change for the two of you, and he wanted it to be perfect.

“How—what—when—I have so many questions!” You stammer, hands reaching for his face to make sure that this is real. Tooru leans into your palm, eyes catching the glisten of the promise ring that he had gifted you two years ago. He was a little worried that it wouldn’t be noticeable enough (“I need people out there to understand that you’re spoken for!” “What are you, a prince of the medieval days?”), but he did appreciate how beautiful it looked when you wore it as such. The happiness he feels right now is more than he could have ever imagined, especially now when he can finally look into your eyes and say the words that he’s been yearning to speak for years to you —

”I’m home, (y/n).”

-

fin.

[slaheir]

STUDY  :  HISUI

۝  BASICS

IS YOUR MUSE TALL  /  SHORT  /  AVERAGE? He seems pretty tall for his age??? I mean given Kohaku’s probably not the tallest person out there but for some reason I just think he began to sprout up like a tree and is still very much growing boy. His sister’s are definitely taller than him but I think he’s taller than Moroha and probably slightly more than Setsuna and close if not the same height as Towa.

ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT? Yeah, teasing like that doesn’t really bother him except when his sister’s are needling him about his forehead.

WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE? His hair's pretty long. Miroku’s was about at his shoulders and Hisui’s ponytail is slightly fuller and seems to have more to it so I’d say his is just past his shoulders. He won’t cut it and wears it tied back, like his father and Uncle have shown him to do so it doesn’t become a means of exploit in battle. Who knows, maybe one day he’ll have a ponytail like mama. 

DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR  /  GROOMING? I don’t think so? Like, he’s definitely hygenic and takes care of his appearance but just pulling it back like that tells me he’s a two step kinda guy and is kind of on the always on the go. 

DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE  /  WHAT OTHERS THINK? I think he’s definitely a sensitive boy but would really only care about the opinions of people that care about him. If his mom, father or Uncle said he looked unprofessional he’d clean up, for sure. The only thing he’s adamant about is the way he wears his uniform and the collar around his neck. He finds it too restricting and distracting in a fight. 

۝  PREFERENCES

INDOORS OR OUTDOORS? Outdoors

RAIN OR SUNSHINE? Sunshine, because it’s easier to train and fight demons when you’re not slipping and sliding through grass or mud.

FOREST OR BEACH? Forest

PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS? Precious metals. He works with his hands a lot and cleans a lot of his own weapons and admittedly has shown some of his teammates how to care for theirs.

FLOWERS OR PERFUMES? Flowers. He brings them home for his mom and sisters a lot.

PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE? Personality, for sure. 

BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD? Either. I like to say that he does sometimes prefer to be alone with his thoughts but more often then naught he’ll chase after or offer to do something with his family or friends because he likes spending time on them.

ORDER OR ANARCHY? Order. Keeper of the peace, future hero of the village! >3

PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES? Painful Truths. He’d rather his family be honest with him and let him deal and process things than keep things from him. Yeah I’m looking at YOU Uncle Kohaku, we know the series is gonna go there and you’re defs hiding something from my boy.

SCIENCE OR MAGIC? Magic. It’s feudal japan so.

PEACE OR CONFLICT? Peace. He fights to protect people so they can have an easy future (and in his family’s case they deserve it)

NIGHT OR DAY? Both? Depends on the shift work.

DUSK OR DAWN? Dawn, new start. New begginings.

WARMTH OR COLD? Warmth. He’s a warm person and definitely makes others feel good about themselves.

MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS? Both. He’s well known in his community and has a few close friends he spends a lot of time with.

READING OR PLAYING A GAME? Reading. He likes talking to his father about his beliefs because he recognizes he has much to learn from Miroku as he does from Sango.

۝  QUESTIONNAIRE

WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS? Hisui gets in his head. A LOT. He internalizes and worries about other people. He worries about living up to expectations and falling short of them or failing to do something right. He has a few insecurities and definitely a lot of vulnerability and survivors guilt in some verses that I write. He wants so badly to be someone his parents are proud of. They fought to give him a comfortable, safe, full life so he owes that to them right?

HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM? This verse dependent so I’ll try and outline a few.

In my canon Yashahime verse, that’s developing as the series progresses we see that Sango, Miroku, and his sisters are all gone and the only family member he has left is his Uncle Kohaku. Now varying outcomes of how he feels depends on how much he a) remembers and b) what he’s been told. I have a sneaking suspicion that both Kohaku and Hisui were out training when whatever happened went down. Thus, he’d know that he had a family but to the extent of what he believes happened and how much he knows - we don’t yet. However this will be a VERY IMPORTANT defining moment to Hisui’s character. Because while some of the other main cast may not remember they even had families he does. And to have this happen to him HURT HIM DEEPLY. I don’t know how he’d possibly process those emotions or if he even fully has. I feel like he threw himself into his training, carried on with his life either again - depending on what he knows - hoping to find them again someday or just believing their dead and trying to continue on. But regardless, family for him in this verse is a VERY touchy subject and not something to talk to him about. He’s pushed his Uncle away whenever the subject’s been broached and after not talking for a few days, they’ve just moved on and went back to the way things were before. This verse hurts me a lot so I need all these children to be reunited with their parents at the end of this Sunrise, okay??? >’(  you better not do me dirty. MirSan and InuKag deserve better. 

In my canon divergent yashahime slayer verse, Hisui has all of his family nothing really bad has happened - the only lesson he’s learnt thus far is to be more careful. I’ve mentioned an incident in this verse where he saved a young girl during a demon’s attack on their village but took a bad injury in his leg that became infected and left him bedroom for 6-8 weeks. This was his first reality check and he had to work hard to get back to where he was physically, but he’s much less impulsive than before and only gives (a few) hero speeches every once in a great blue moon because xD he’s just never gonna grow out of that. 

WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS? Applies to several Canon Divergent and AU verses.

Oh god so many. I’ll list a few here.

- training with his mother and uncle. Watching them glow with pride as he grows up and gets better and better, wanting to help them rebuild their village. 

- walks and late night talks with his father. Those are REALLY special to him and he remembers distinctly his father carrying him back to bed when he was young, having fallen asleep as he was teaching him a lesson about life. Miroku tucks him and smooths back his hair and tells him quietly that he loves him so much. 

- mother passing on her hiraikotsu and kirara to him, one morning out of the blue. He’s speechless and ends up crying and hugging her tight. 

- days, afternoons and evenings spent over at his aunt and uncles. He helps Kagome do laundry, plays with moroha and sometimes his sisters join. 

- Since he was a baby he follows inuyasha around and tries to imitate his swagger and confidence. Inuyasha loves his nephew he’s such dorky cute little potat. 

- Getting the lecture of his and moroha’s LIFE when they took their parents weapons to go train in the forest. 

- spending time with the wolf demon tribe when their folks had to go on out of town missions as a group. Koga, Moroha and Hisui fishing, training, running off to go fight things that are ten times stronger than them and Koga dragging their asses back to his pack to blister their ears like wHY is it always YOU TWO. But he loves those trouble makers.  

IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL? evil demons? A hundred percent. Doesn’t bat an eyelash because they’re preying on people and he needs to protect them. Regular humans though, that are evil and preying on women and children weaker than them? He has a hard time. He doesn’t understand how a person can be that much of a vile monster. And though he should have the stomach for it, sometimes he really doesn’t. He hates injuring people possessed by demons too. He’s like his father in that he’ll try and non lethally exorcise it or beat it out of them and help care for their wounds later. 

WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN? Oh.. My. Gosh. My heart. He’s really.... soft boy and keeps a lot of his emotions to himself so when he breaks down it’s water works. Hiccups, heavy breathing, just shivers and trying to snuff out the sound he’s making but he only gets louder and louder till he has to let it all out. Like, we heard his lungs as a kid. Boy can cry a river.

IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE? Absolutely. WHen he fights beside Setsuna and Kohaku he knows they have his back. He wouldn’t even question that for a second, just as they (probably) wouldn’t question their trust in him. He’d fight hard to protect them and know they would do the same. His family too, the few times in my canon divergent verses he’s fought beside his mother or father and Inuyasha and Moroha. 

WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE? I think maturity wise he’s not there yet. He’s still young and has a lot he wants to focus on and do with his life. Speculatively, I think when he’s older he would definitely want the kind of open, affectionate, caring relationship that his father and mother have. That he sees his Aunt and Uncle have. But that’s a long ways down the road. 

Tagged by: @shirokodomo (thanks el!)

Tagging: @senpujin , @eternityheir , @crimsonkunshu , @amorous-monk and whoever else wants to do/steal this !!!!!

[maxattack-powell]

Winter Break - Game Day (Part II)

Winter Break - Game Day (1-17g PART II)

***This is an original fic that fits in between the Luxury Date special and Book 2/Chapter 1 (1-17g) in my masterlist)***

Masterlist - go here for other chapters and related original fics

Disclaimer: The following are fics (adaptations from actual game chapters AND original works) to Choices: The Freshman and The Sophomore stories. It is a fictional adaptation. I do not work for Pixelberry Studios, the game developer or own the rights to the characters Chris Powell, Nicole or any other IN GAME character. All of the ORIGINAL characters, storylines and events were developed for my adaptation of The Freshman story.

Comments: I enjoyed playing Choices The Freshman… and then I found this awesome group of people and their works - I’ve loved it all, very much so. Deciding that I wanted more interaction than the options allowed, I’ve gone through the first book, chapter by chapter (omg painfully slow) to follow the story (95-99% I’d say) and add to it as I felt would benefit. Now I am doing the same to Book 2 as well.

Basically, I wanted to include certain things that weren’t really full fic worthy, adding more substance to the story. However, I did add some full size fic moments also… some are included in cannon chapters and some are their own full chapters in between. I wanted to see MC and Chris through their freshman year… with more angst, fluff, sweetness, real life and overall detail. So, if you like that pairing then you’ll be satisfied, otherwise sorry James & Kaitlyn fans lol. I even added some parts from Chris’s POV, so that we have a chance to see what he’s thinking, knowing what she experienced.

NSFW moments possible - Mature Readers Only Please

Paring: MC x Chris

POV: ~MC~ or ~Chris~

 CONTINUED FROM HERE...

~Chris~

They pause as they step away from the gate, trying to locate the area they know their friends will be in. Once they find the correct section, they start cutting through the crowd. Not wanting to get separated, Chris reaches for her hand and she quickly wraps hers around his before he gives her a warm smile and a light squeeze.

When they find their group, Ethan notices their arrival within seconds. His eyes lock onto Chris’s first, glancing at their hands, and then up to MC’s eyes, who are currently trained on Chris. Chris sees Ethan give him a knowing smirk and he sends back a look to imply keeping his mouth shut. Ethan holds his hands up innocently, while Chris smirks at him, knowing he's really not the one to worry about. He hears him then, his rowdy raven haired friend who was standing just a few feet away, once again in some type of competition with Logan. This time it looks like hot-dogs.

Ethan walks over to Chris and MC, putting his arm around MC’s shoulders, asking if she’s cold or needs anything while Chris finds Coach Cohen to make sure he knows they have arrived. Luckily for them, splitting up at that moment makes it easier to blend in, not drawing enough attention to some of the others, including Ryan. Once Chris checks in, he pats Ryan and Logan on the shoulders, making his presence known before he finishes his rounds and heads back to Ethan and MC.

The group spends the next 5-6 hours running around the tailgate party. They all had Rookie Pre-Game Tickets for the tailgate party, which meant they had unlimited access to all food and nonalcoholic drinks. There was also live music such as multiple DJs, sports broadcasts running live they could watch and even participate in, and many games to choose from.

The Hartfeld group would split into smaller groups occasionally, some running off to play games or hit up the buffet again. But no matter who was doing what, Chris and MC were together. Chris wouldn't let her get too far from him, and if someone inadvertently split them up, they would quickly find each other, their hands finding one another, making sure it wouldn't happen again.

They along with Ryan, Ethan, Logan and Madison often went together, searching for games to play during the tailgate party. Ryan and Logan would usually become very competitive, no matter what the game was, making the others laugh at their crazy antics. Chris smiles, realizing that he’s missed his two best friends since leaving Cherryfield. He really, really misses them, and he hopes they can find a way to get them to Hartfeld next year.

As the hours pass, he watches as his two old friends become more acquainted with the other members of the team. Ethan finds one of their quieter tackles to talk to, and from what Chris can tell, their conversation ranges from music to their goals in school, and even after. Hearing some on the last subject makes Chris think a little about his future as well. If he will play football forever, meaning going Pro. Or, if he will focus on his school career, needing to decide which direction he wants to go. He knows one thing for sure, as he turns to look at the woman standing next to him, still wrapped in the blanket he put on her earlier and tucked under his arm, gushing about something with Madison.

Chris knows that he wants her to be there, wants to be with her, no matter what happens, no matter where they end up. He wants it to be the two of them. He knows that he's still young, and he's talking about forever with someone who’s the same age, but everything keeps telling him that it's supposed to be this way. He never felt that way with Nicole. The thought makes him relax, knowing he doesn't need to worry. He's going to live a good life and enjoy it.

She must sense something as he looks at her endearingly, turning her head to lock her hazel eyes on his blues. MC flashes him a sweet smile, a faint tint of pink creeping on her cheeks as they both seem to think back to a few hours prior. As she pulls her lip in to fuss with it, he reaches down and grasps her chin, pulling her lips to his briefly, not wanting to draw too much attention but also needing to taste her again. It had been too long since he did last.

~Coach~

The stadium finally opens after a few hours, allowing everyone to enter and get settled in. Coach Tim Cohen collects collects his group and they make their way inside. As they head towards their section midway down the field, he sees something familiar. Or a someone, actually. He pauses and watches her for a moment, the woman he met the night before. He recalls her name as he remembers their conversations late into the morning. She said her name was Alisa, but he wasn't sure if that was real as she had been somewhat aloof when the conversation became more personal.

Now he knows why. He stands there for a moment as his team congregates around him, waiting for direction. That's when she looks up, noticing the cluster of red and black that seems to grow close by. Their eyes meet and she gives him an awkward smile. He doesn't respond, instead turns to his group and tells them where their block of seats should be close by. Everyone scatters and he turns back around, finding her eyes immediately.

He takes a few steps to stand right against the railing, raising his eyebrow as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. Tim’s body language implies his unspoken question.

She lets out a sigh and walks over stand in front of him, looking up at him with her big green eyes from her lower position on the field. “Hello again, Coach Cohen.”

“So, you knew who I was last night when you approached me.” It wasn't a question, but a statement, and it wasn't up for debate. His face was expressionless as his gaze moved around her face.

She gives him a small smile and looks around the immediate area before she speaks. “Yes, I did.”

He nods. “Looking for a story I suppose?”

She smirks and looks away for a second before turning her eyes back up to his. “No, although... getting one from you would greatly help my career.”

She watches his face as he contemplates her words. He’s not sure what her angle is, but he’s curious. “I typically don't talk to anyone when I’m near the field. Even when they seem like an a average fan or something, because they usually turn out to be a reporter digging for dirt.”

Alice shifts her weight on her tall heels as she stands her ground, “That’s not why I approached you last night. But I’m getting the impression that you won't believe anything I say anyway.”

Tim stands there quietly for a moment, trying to determine if she was being genuine. Last night they had talked for quite a while, and even though he didn't know she was a reporter at the time, she seemed like she was being honest and open with him. Now he wasn't sure, but he was curious to find out.

“Is your name actually Alisa?” He cocks his eyebrow as he places his hands on the railing, leaning forward a little.

“Yes. Technically. My name Alisa,is the Russian form of Alice. As in Alice Bell, my on-air name and I cover college sports for NESN.” She holds her hands up, empty palms. “Anything else?”

He holds her gaze, noting how bold she is as she’s clearly not going to tuck tail and run from this situation. “My team and I are here to get them pumped for next season and have a good time. We’re not here for anything else.”

She nods. “Understood. I wasn't planning on it, just FYI.”

He stands back straight and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Thank you.” He pauses as their eyes stay locked. “Good luck tonight, Alisa.”

A small smirk appears on her face, making him fight to stop his own from appearing. He’s not entirely successful though, as the corner of his left side curls slightly as he turns to head back to his team.

~Chris~

The Hartfeld group finds their seats with enough time to get settled, grab whatever they need and be ready by the time the game begins. It’s an exciting game as both teams in the championship had impressive seasons this year. Even the analysts were unsure who was going to win, as there was no clear leader.

Chris grins as he looks around the immediate seats, seeing his friends and teammates ecstatic and having a great time. There was so much energy coursing through everyone that he could feel it himself. MC was even jumping around as insane plays pulled through and absurd interceptions occurred. The teams were good, but there were still moments that were unbelievable during the game, making the fans in the stands anxious and excitable.

He turns to look at MC and lets out a happy chuckle. Her face is almost split in two as she pumps her fist in the air as their favored team makes another touchdown. She turns to him and flashes him her big smile, making his stomach flip. He shakes his head and reaches over, pulling her to his side. She wraps her arms around his waist and leans her head against his chest as he rubs her back.

Ryan and Ethan are on his other side, both almost as energetic as MC was moments before. They are really into the game, yelling at players and referees with the coaches when ridiculous calls are made. When something works out well the guys all share high fives and cheer for the specific players involved. Halftime comes and everyone splits off to take care of whatever they need for a few minutes.

Coach Cohen turns from his spot near his seat and calls to Chris. “Powell! Come over here for a minute.”

Chris gives MC’s hand a squeeze before he leaves her to see what Coach needs. “What’s up Coach?” He looks at him curiously.

“I need you to come with me for a few minutes. There’s someone I want you to talk to.” He starts to walk down the aisle but stops when he sees Chris hesitate and look back at MC, not wanting to leave her alone as their friends were not currently at their seats.

Coach smirks and taps Chris on the shoulder. “What are you doing? Go get her. She can come with.”

Chris immediately relaxes as he turns his head to MC, instantly finding her eyes. He gestures for her to come down to him so she stands and carefully steeps around people as she makes her way towards him. When she gets there Coach nods at her and turns, heading to an undisclosed location.

MC looks at Chris and he wraps his arm around her shoulder before he kisses her on the head. “He said there was someone he wanted me to talk to or something… but I didn't want to leave you alone.”

She scrunches up her nose and wraps her arm around his waist as she kisses him on the cheek, avoiding the bill of his hat. He smirks at her as they follow Coach Cohen. After a few minutes they arrive at a closed door on which Coach knocks. It swings open and the person quickly recognizes Coach Cohen and lets him in.

The person points over towards the side of the room, Chris realizing they are now in one of the stadiums luxury boxes. There are quite a few people moving around, so Chris doesn't immediately see the tall man in the corner, but the tall man sees them and excuses himself from his immediate circle as he heads over. Chris sees Coach Cohen holding out his hand first, then sees Russell Thibbs as he grasps the offered hand and they shake.

“Good to see you again Russell.” His Coach greets the tall running back with ease.

Russell nods. “You too, Coach. How did your season go?”

“Pretty good for inheriting a partial team. They worked hard, good group of guys. Next year will be a whole different story, I’m telling you.” He nods as they end the handshake.

Coach Cohen turns sideways, reaching towards Chris, beckoning him to join them. Chris appears slightly apprehensive but moves with confidence as he walks over, unsure of the reason for his being here. His left hand is still grasping MC’s and as he moves closer. She must feel him tense as he gets closer because she gives his larger hand a soft squeeze that he quickly returns. When he joins their small circle she tucks in a little behind his large arm to not intrude too much as he reaches out with his right hand, firmly grasping Russell's.

“It’s good to see you again, Chris. You had a hell of a year for a freshman.” He gives Chris a warm smile as he shakes the quarterbacks hand with some weight.

“Thank you, sir. It was a little unexpected, but I loved it. I’m thankful that I could step in and help the team out in a time of need.” Chris replies with calm maturity.

“That’s why I brought you here Chris. Russell and I agree, you have a lot of potential.” Coach gives him an even stare.

Chris feels MC squeeze his hand, silently agreeing with them both. He quickly glances to her and tries not to grin.

Russell nods. “We really do. Coach Cohen here knows a good quarterback when he sees one, being one of the best the college circuit has ever seen, and I know a future professional when I see one.”

Chris’s eyes go wide as his mouth opens slightly, clearly surprised at the praise he was receiving. “I… I don't know what to say. Thank you. I was just trying to do the right thing. My Cherryfield High Coach helped me understand what it means to be a good friend, a reliable ball player and a supportive Captain.”

“Exactly. Which brings up another point I wanted to mention to you. With Darren graduating this year, we are not only losing our starting quarterback, but our Team Captain as well.”

Chris remains silent as he watches his coach and waits.

“From what I’ve heard from the guys this season, chances are good that you are going to be voted in. Are you ready for that? I know you were Captain at Cherryfield, but this will be a little different.” Coach Cohen gives him a serious but supportive look.

Thibbs nods his head. “Coach is right. It's going to be a lot of work, take a lot of time, but I personally think you're built to handle it. Like I said, you have the potential to go Pro if you want to. You just need to do the work.”

Chris smiles and nods at them both. “I understand. If I am voted in for Captain, I will not let Hartfeld down.”

Coach nods and smiles at Chris as he pats him on the shoulder.

Russell reaches out to shake Chris’s hand again, “Glad to hear it. I know you’ll do well with it.”

He shifts his gaze to Chris’s left and greets MC. “It’s great to see you again, as well. I apologize for not greeting you sooner. I was on a mission.”

Russell lets out a warm laugh and she smiles while shaking her head softly. “Thank you, but no worries. It was important.”

“I’m glad to see Chris has some serious support. He’s going to need it if he decides to pursue this career. Having a solid personal life and stable family structure is really important in our world. My wife and girls are my foundation. I can already tell that you two make a stable unit together.” He tips his head to them both.

Chris turns to look at MC, who he realizes is already looking at him with a warm smile on her lips. He can't help but grin as he squeezes her hand again with a grin. “I couldn't agree more Mr. Thibbs.”

Russell laughs softly. “Just call me Russell, son. We’re all friends here.”

The three stay with Russell in the box for a while, enjoying the luxuries until the trailing team makes a touchdown, creating an uproar through the crowd. Coach thanks Russell again for his hospitality and motions for Chris and MC to follow him back to their assigned seats. When they arrive, Ryan and Ethan give him a curious look.

He just smiles and shakes his head. “Sorry, had to hang with my new friend Russell Thibbs for a few.”

They both immediately perk up, knowing exactly who he's talking about, Ryan gasps and looks offended. “And you didn't take us with you?!”

“Next time, next time…” Chris smirks at his jealous friend.

They watch the rest of the game on pins and needles. Not because anyone was rooting for a particular team, but because the game was all over the place. It turned out to be one of the most exciting games any of them had ever seen.

Chris pulls MC to stand in front of him with barely enough room for them to fit. He encases her with his muscular arms while she's wrapped the blanket, easily warming her up with his body heat. With her height being close to his, he doesn't have to lean down far to rest his chin on her shoulder, tucking his nose into the crook of her neck. She squirms a little, making Chris take note of the location for future use. He grins into her warming skin as he kisses her neck. He spends the rest of the game with her in his arms.

~Coach~

The game ends with a magical touchdown and the crowd rushes the field, the excitement taking over as strangers hug and cheer. Coach yells to the group, telling them to meet at the bus in 30 minutes before telling them to scram and have a good time. They quickly disburse, some thanking him as the run down the steps as others such as Ryan and Ethan climb over rows of seats to quickly reach the field. He chuckles and shakes his head before taking his time to get on the field.

Once there, he looks around, searching for a particular face. It doesn't take him long to find her, as she's interviewing one of the winning players, her face bright and friendly as he excitedly answers all of her questions.

He waits nearby, interacting with fans when they recognize him, taking selfies and signing random objects as the time passes. When he receives a lull in attention, he turns to glance in her location again, but she's gone. He frowns slightly and crosses his arms, unsure how he missed her leaving.

Coach Cohen shakes his head once, deciding he should head towards the bus so he wouldn't break his own rule. However, before he can take a step he hears someone clear their throat. He freezes, instantly knowing who it was. He turns his head to his left, finding her standing next to him, a small smirk on her face.

“Did you want to do an interview, Coach?” She slowly turns her confident emerald eyes to his.

He shakes his head and laughs through a small smile. “You sure you're a reporter? You look like you should attending the games, not interviewing for them.”

She tries to hide her blushing smile, as professionalism is key. But it's hard to ignore the obvious complement. “Yep, I really am. And thank you for that. It can be a tough world out here… they expect so much from us sometimes. Feels good to know someone noticed.”

She shoots him a joyful smile and he clears his throat. “Ah, well. It’s hard not to notice, to be honest.” A small lopsided smile appears on his face as they both stare out across the field.

Coach Cohen invites her to join him and the group, as they had plans for a late night dinner to end their trip. She eyes him for a moment, making him narrow his eyes as he looks back at her, playfully questioning her hesitation. Alisa laughs and eventually accepts the offer with a smile as they head towards the bus.

~Chris~

Chris is with his friends and MC somewhere in the middle of the joyous crowd. Everyone around them is laughing and cheering, euphoria is everywhere. He can feel the excitement coursing through his own body, as if he had played in the game himself. He glances at the woman in his arms and feels his heart skip a little, her own excitement from the night clearly evident on her face. She catches him staring at her and flashes him a huge grin.

He can’t take it anymore, instantly grabbing both sides of her face before he crushes his lips to hers. She instantly reaches up and hooks her arms around his neck before she tugs him even closer and deepens the kiss. No one notices their affection in the large swirling crowd. When they break apart for air he quickly checks the time.

He pulls back slightly but leaves his arms circled tightly around her waist. “We gotta go if we want to get to the bus on time.”

She nods and they find their friends in the crowd before heading towards the bus. Everyone miraculously makes it back in time, much to Chris’s surprise. As they load up he notices the woman from the previous night sitting near the front, talking to Coach as he stands near the driver.

When they make it to their seats, MC leans over him to look at the pair near the front. “Oh, what's this, I wonder…”

She wiggles her eyebrows at Chris. He laughs and playfully pushes her back to her own seat, receiving a bite on his shoulder in response.

The bus drops everyone off at the predetermined restaurant and they all head inside, their reserved table ready and waiting for them in one of the side rooms. They spend almost two hours there eating, rehashing the game, dreaming about what it would be like to play at nationals and generally having a good time. As everyone waits for their checks, Logan throws out the idea of going back to Envy.

Ryan is quick to support his idea, turning to Ethan and narrowing his eyes. “You're going tonight, Clark.”

Ethan just laughs and shrugs, giving into his friend as he was just as keyed up as everyone else. Chris turns to look at MC, both still seated with his arm around the back of her chair. He gives her a questioning look, checking to see if she was interested. She scrunches up her nose a little, her lips in a playful half frown-half smile. He chuckles and nods, instantly agreeing with her. They haven't been alone since this morning, so now is the perfect time to get some time while everyone else stays out a little while longer.

Once everyone heads outside, Chris lets his friends know he and MC are going back to the hotel, telling them that they are exhausted from their morning run and will catch up with everyone in the morning. Ryan and Ethan don't say a word as they look at each other before simultaneously turning back to Chris, giving him the same ‘Sure, Jan’ look. Chris rolls his eyes and punches Ethan in the shoulder, making him fold slightly at the contact with a painful grimace. Ryan takes a few steps back when Chris turns his gaze to him, making the quarterback smirk.

He pulls her close as they say goodbye to everyone, nodding at Coach after he hears they are going to go back. Chris notices MC yawn a few times as they cross the last block towards their hotel. He studies her face and sees how tired she really is. He stops then, tugging her back when she doesn't immediately notice, more proof of her current state of exhaustion. She looks at him curiously and he gives her a small smile before kissing her softly. It’s a quick kiss and over before she realizes.

Chris turns and takes a knee, glancing over his shoulder. “Hop on.”

She tilts her head. “What? Why…”

“You're about to fall asleep MC. Hurry up and get on before someone thinks you turned my proposal down and I end up on YouTube. I’m serious!” He smirks at her and she laughs before swatting his shoulder and climbing on.

He feels her sigh into his broad shoulders as she snuggles as close as she can, burrowing her face into the side of his neck, her blanket flowing like a cape behind them as he stands. He adjusts his arms under her thighs, giving them a little squeeze, receiving a reciprocal affectionate kiss on the neck. Chris wills his body to calm down as her close proximity makes his heart rate increase, his blood heat and his stomach flip. He manages to contain the strong feelings the last block of the walk and even into the elevator.

MC shifts when she realizes where they are, pointing her boot out, aiming for floor buttons. Chris laughs and guides her pointed toe to the right floor, giving her leg another squeeze. He carries her all the way to her room and she slowly slides down his back when he stops.

He groans at the feeling and turns to face her. “Will you sleep with me tonight? Like seriously, just sleep…” He gives her a bashful smile, hoping she will say yes.

MC playfully taps on her chin, making him sigh and shake his head while he lets out a quiet chuckle. She doesn't say a word as she turns to the door and pulls her room key from her pocket, quickly slipping inside, the door clicking shut behind her. Chris stands there for a moment, somewhat confused. He blinks a few times and runs his hand through his hair before resting it on the back of his neck. Just as he's about to knock, the door swings open. MC stands there with a sleepy smirk, her bag slung over her shoulder.

She passes him and turns to face him once she reaches his door, “Well? You coming, handsome?”

He runs his hand through his hair again, excited and anxious about sleeping with her all night. “My bed?”

She gives him that smirk. “Yep, it's better. Smells like you.”

A huge grin splits his face and he rushes over, scooping her up against his chest as she wraps her legs around him. He spins her around once and she laughs and squeals at the centrifugal force. He holds her up with his arm under one leg, forcing her to tighten her grip with both legs, as he reaches into his pocket for his own room key. He groans at the tight contact and looks into her eyes as he opens the door and walks inside, never looking anywhere else.

They strip down to the basics. Chris in his blue boxer briefs and MC in a tank and underwear. He flips the covers back and slides in, holding up her side so she can jump in. She slides closer and he runs one arm under her, slipping between the pillow and her shoulders. His other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her snugly against him. She sighs and throws her leg over his hip, making him playfully growl at her before he leans in for her lips. They kiss slowly, both starting to feel the exhaustion creep in. It doesn't take long for each to fully fall asleep, both with a content look on their faces as their limbs remain intertwined.

Chris stirs a few hours later as a sharp light cuts into the room from hallway thanks to the now open door. He leans up slightly, his eyes heavy with sleep, only slits as he recognizes Logan. The senior stops dead in his tracks, his eyes searching Chris’s bed. He nods and smiles at Chris before giving him a quick wave and turning back into the hall.

He hears his faint “Hey Mads, MC and I are switching tonight. Cool?” He settles back down and adjusts his grip around her she unconsciously snuggles into his chest. He does the same to the top of her head, burrowing his nose into her sweet smelling hair as the room slips back into darkness.

The bus leaves Penn State University bright and early the next morning. Coach makes sure everyone was up and outside no later than 6 a.m., knowing that many would have to drive some distance after they arrive in Hartfeld later in the day. When he received multiple groans he told them all to get over it, reminding them they could sleep on the bus. That's what many did actually, sleeping all the way through to the midway stop, everyone only waking when it was time to refuel.

Chris and MC were the least tired as they had gone to bed earlier than just about everyone else, so they were awake at least an hour or two before the scheduled stop. They spend the quiet time playing Rummy, and much to Chris’s competitive dismay, MC is good. He tries everything he can think of to beat her. All of his previously victorious tactics fail him left and right. It’s unbelievable.

Instead of getting upset like he usually does when he loses, Chris just smiles. He tries to sneak a peek at her cards occasionally, receiving a swat in return each time as she clutches her cards to her chest. Eventually she takes a short nap before the bus slows and pulls in to a large station. The building was huge, as it was surrounded on all sides with multiple fuel options. There was even a full size restaurant on one side.

Coach Cohen stands first, clapping his hands twice to rouse everyone. “Now's a good time to stretch your legs, take care of business or just breathe some fresh air. Get back on in…” He checks his watch. “15 minutes, tops. It’s going to be a long day, we don't want to make it any longer.”

Everyone slowly stands and stretches, filing out of the bus and heading inside for the next 15 minutes. Chris reaches over to rub his fingers across MC’s cheek as she doesn't wake from the claps like almost everyone else.

“Hey, beautiful… pit stop. Come on.” He stands as she begins to stir and helps her up.

She yawns and gives him a warm smile. “Hello, handsome.”

He grins and spins her around, walking closely behind her with his hands on her hips. Once inside they split and head to the bathrooms. Chris makes it out before her, and starts milling around the aisles in the store. He sees Ethan as he heads over to join him on the snack aisle. They compare the quality of different snacks for a moment before Ryan rushes over with a magazine in his hand.

“Guys. Check this shit out.” He moves closer as they move to each side as he flips through the pages of Men’s Fitness magazine.

When he finally finds the page he was searching for he flattens the magazine and doesn't say a word, yet his eyebrows reach for the sky.

Ethan’s brow furrows as he leans closer. “Is that… Hannah?”

~MC~

As she makes her way towards the front door of the store, MC hears the guys near the end of an aisle and walks over to join them. As she gets closer she begins to hear some of their conversation.

“Is that… Hannah?” Ethan asks with disbelief.

She pauses, instantly curious who Hannah is and how they know her. Specifically how Chris knows her. She stands on her tiptoes to see Chris as he hears the name. A crease forms on his brow before he leans forward to get a better look at the pictures on the page. He studies the images quietly for a moment before straightening back up, a look of indifference on his face. Ryan eagerly flips through the pages, more images appearing over and over.

MC can see the magazine better now as well. Whoever this Hanna is, she's beautiful. Her mind begins to run through past conversations, searching for that name in particular. She remembers many names from hundreds of stories, but Hannah was not at all familiar. That wouldn't bother her too much, except Ryan and Ethan seemed to recognize her well, and Chris was being so quiet.

Not originally intending to eavesdrop, she walks around the end of the aisle and joins them. “Hey, guys.” She smiles and looks at the magazine when she gets closer. “Oh, she's beautiful… who’s that?”

When she raises her eyes she sees them all exchange odd looks. She immediately frowns, confused by their odd behavior.

“Uh…” Ryan begins, turning to Chris for assistance.

Chris just shakes his head at Ryan before he sighs and turns to MC. “She's just someone we went to high-school with.”

Ethan frowns and shuts his eyes, avoiding pushing the conversation further.

Ryan however, is not so in-tune with the current situation, his left eyebrow arching up before he speaks. “Yeah, and she's a model…”

His eyes widen as he finds a particularly interesting photo. Ethan elbows him slightly, bringing his focus back to the present.

When he looks up he sees Ethan’s face, Ryan quickly turns to see Chris and MC as they hold each other's gaze. Neither are looking at the magazine anymore. Picking up on the awkward moment, Ryan puts the magazine down on a random shelf before he and Ethan walk outside without a word.

~Chris~

Chris doesn't see them leave as he holds MC’s curious gaze. She chews on her bottom lip, making him feel a little anxious, knowing she’s thinking something about Hannah.

“You know her from Cherryfield?” MC gives him a small smile, the innocent looking expression implying much, much more.

He takes a deep breath and nods slowly. “Yes, that’s Hannah Foster. She was one of our friends from Cherryfield.”

MC picks up on his word choice immediately. “Was?”

He frowns deeply. “Yeah… she's not exactly friends with any of us now.” Chris feels a painful pressure on his chest for a moment as his mind jumps into the past briefly.

MC steps closer, making his anxiety spike as she softly grabs his hands and holds them in hers. She searches his eyes for a moment until he relaxes a little.

“What happened?” She asks in a quiet voice.

Chris’s mind swirls around like a tornado as old memories collide, even the ones he's tried so hard to lock deep down inside. “Um, remember when I told you how… how bad, everything got after Nicole…”

He pauses and takes a deep breath. Chris can’t believe how horrible this timing is. Here he is, less than 24 hrs out from the best moment of his life with the woman of his dreams standing in front of him, and his past comes barreling through the serenity, threatening to disrupt everything. MC squeezes his hands and he looks up to meet her eyes. He surprisingly finds them warm and understanding, instantly making him feel better, so he continues after looking back down to their hands.

“I did a lot of stupid stuff, you know that.” He glances at her briefly, seeing her nod softly. “She um, ended up in the middle of some of it.”

Chris internally curses. Pissed that he now feels as if he’s lying to MC about Hannah. He never intended to hide this part of his past from her, but there has never been a good time to bring it up. He also feels embarrassed, about his past behavior and actions as they rise to the surface of his mind. He’s tried so hard to move past it, to make it up to her and everyone else he affected when he hit bottom. And now, here it is, a blaring reminder staring at him from a fitness magazine.

He sighs as MC drops his hands, his guts twisting as if being stabbed by a knife. Instead of walking away from him like he fears, she runs her hands around his sides, then up his back, hooking them under his arms and onto his shoulders before she leans her head on his chest, tucking under his chin.

Chris lets the breath he was holding out slowly, almost afraid to move too much as she would turn into dust and blow away. He gently raises his arms and snakes them across her back, one running across her shoulders, the other tightly around her narrow waist as he tilts his head towards her, resting his lips on her hair.

“I will tell you more about it, just… just not right now, okay?” He mumbles into her hair.

She doesn't say a word but she squeezes him close and nods. He can feel the tension in her back, making him frown as he pinches his eyes shut with frustration. The loud bus horn breaks their uncomfortable silence. Chris’s head whips up and looks outside.

He drops his arms from her and grabs her hand. “Shit, Coach is going to chew my ass. Hurry.”

They run through the door and to the bus hand in hand. Chris lets her climb in first before he skips two steps at once. When he stands on the floor of the bus his eyes meet with Coach Cohen’s. Coach arches an eyebrow, almost as if he was going to say something, until he sees Chris’s expression.

His eyes narrow and he instead pats him on the shoulder, “Hurry and take your seat.”

Chris follows MC as they rush to their row. His eyes meet Ethan’s briefly, a small knowing frown across his friends lips. He glances at Ryan to see him staring out the window, his thoughts far away from his current position. Chris shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair, his hand pausing on his neck momentarily as he steps back to the seat with MC. He doesn't look to her face as he sits down, but he can feel her eyes on him.

Chris reaches over and slides his hand into MC’s, threading her fingers through his and giving her a gentle squeeze. She smiles without making eye contact and leans on his shoulder. The four of them remain quiet for most of the trip back to Hartfeld after that. The other passengers on the bus get a little rowdy as time passes, everyone apparently refreshed from their morning nap.

Once they pull into the big parking lot near the Hartfeld quad, Coach stands, thanking them all for an entertaining trip, and for representing Hartfeld with their best behaviors. He says more personal goodbyes as everyone passes on the way out. Chris and MC are the last to rise from their seats. He reaches for and grasps her hand in his as they stand and make their way to the front. Coach Cohen doesn't speak, but nods at Chris before they shake hands briefly.

When they step off the bus Chris hears a familiar short sharp whistle. He turns to see Ethan and Ryan by the Jeep with Ethan pointing at all of their bags, apparently already grabbing them while they were waiting.

~MC~

They walk over and Ethan smiles warmly at MC. He lifts one arm and pulls her into a side hug, making her laugh lightly as he tucks her close, rubbing her arm with his hand. “It was great to meet you in person, MC. Maybe we can hang out again soon. And I need to meet Max, he reminds me of my old dog.”

She nods, shooting him a small smile as they separate. “That would be great.”

MC turns to Ryan who currently leaning against the winch and bull bar on the front of the Jeep. “Hey, Hawk.”

Ryan’s slightly somber expression disappears immediately as he turns to face MC. “Hey, girl. I had a blast. You’re fucking awesome. Promise we will get to dance again soon.” He winks at her playfully.

She laughs and nods. “You've got it. Soon.” He reaches over to her with some speed, catching her off guard slightly as he pulls her close in a fierce hug.

MC pats him on the arm when he finally lets her go, grabbing her bag from the pile before she turns and walks towards Chris who’s standing a few feet away still. She sees Madison under one of the trees and waves, receiving a thumbs up to let her know she’s going to wait. Her eyes swing back to Chris, finding him looking down, his eyes appear to be darker than usual.

“Hey, handsome.” She says in a low voice, making him look up so they lock eyes.

She watches as a small smile appears, slowly growing into a much larger one. “Hey, beautiful.”

~Chris~

He reaches out and pulls her close as he kisses her on the temple before whispering in her ear. “I’m going to miss you. This trip was a double edged sword in a way.” He laughs and she joins him.

“I can agree with that.” She turns her head and looks into his piercing blue eyes, now looking more like their normal lighter color.

They stare at each other for a full minute. Chris finally reaches up and moves a piece of hair away from her face before he leans in, brushing his lips across hers. She sighs and melts a little in his hands as she deepens the kiss. Knowing he has a long trip home, Chris finally breaks the kiss. They are both back to their normal happy selves as they suck in deep breaths and grin sheepishly at each other.

“Man, I’m really going to miss that…” Chris almost whines, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly.

She scoffs at him playfully and pinches his side. “It’s less than a week. Then we will be back here at Hartfeld. I think you’ll be okay.”

Chris dramatically shakes his head, “I really won’t…”

She laughs at him before pulling him in for another deep kiss. “See you soon, Chris. Drive safe.”

He winks at her. “I’ll call you tonight, like usual.”

After a last desperately tight hug, they separate. Chris watches her head back over to Madison before he turns back to the Jeep.

Ryan gives him a snarky look as he approaches. “Sooo….”

Chris doesn't let him finish before he shoves Ryan’s head lightly as he passes his friend. “Shut it.”

Ryan smirks until Ethan passes him as well. “Shotgun.”

“Dammit.” Ryan grumbles as he turns, heading to the back seat for the ride home.

[curestardust]

if you want: war and after-war story in a fictional country / fantasy elements (humans turning into beasts) 

If you watched Fairy Gone, the first episode of “To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts” is gonna give you deja vu. Here we have a fictional country having a war which is solved by creating “incarnates” aka humans who can turn into beasts. However, it slowly turns out that the beast inside these soldiers will most likely slowly take over and they’ll lose their humanity. Their creator Elaine has a “plan” against this but it doesn’t come to fruition. And thus, after the war, the Incarnates are released back into society but most of them are on the verge of becoming full beasts. Hank, the squad captain of their force, takes it upon himself to eradicate the remaining incarnates to “save them”. This is what leads to his meeting with Schaal, our second main character (or true main character if you may). Her father was an incarnate and when he comes back, he has the body of a beast but still the mind of a human. She loves her father even like this and ignores all warning signs that he may not be who he was before. Then one day she sees Hank shooting her father dead. Swearing revenge she goes after him but after their meeting she decides to tag along with Hank to see why exactly he thought it necessary to kill her father.

The first 6 episodes kinda go like a “monster-of-the-week” format where we meet some of Hank’s former teammates and what they’ve turned into. Then halfway through *spoiler* happens and we get to tag along with Schaal and the special force created by the government to kill the incarnates. The final few episodes are a bigger battle and then...ah fuck. Another anime that doesn’t have a proper finale.

Yes, it was quite apparent around episode 8 that this was going to be a “lol we will make season 2 if this does well, if not then fuck you” kinda anime cause there was just waaaay too much going on. Still, if there is no sequel, the ending leaves it at a nice point where you could easily pick up the manga and continue if you wanted to.

Honestly, this anime feels very average. The concept isn’t really unique, the characters are meh and the story is also a bit sloppy at some places. But besides all that, the animation in the latter half. Oh my good lord. They decided to only focus on key frames (close-ups basically) and farther away shots look so...stupid and badly drawn...sometimes I couldn’t believe my eyes. I mean, it can be ignored, we’ve seen dozens of anime like this but I couldn’t.

Still...there’s some sort of charm to this anime. It’s not particularly good but I still enjoyed it for the most part? That’s the only reason this has this score and not a worse one. This is a very hit-or-miss but if you’re on the fence about watching it I’d rather say no but if you’re reaaaally bored and just want something to pass the time then be my guest.

[5/10] (x)

Recommend: HELL Yeah! | Yes | Eh??? | Nope | This anime killed my parents

[racingtoaredlight]

RTARL’s NBA Previewpalooza: Part One

One of the most hectic and entertaining NBA offseasons in recent memory is finally drawing to a close, and real-live game action is nearly upon us. After ending last season by swiftly dispatching the Cleveland Cavaliers, the Golden State Warriors have cemented themselves as the most ridiculous Final Boss in the history of team sports. Barring an injury that prevents either Kevin Durant or Steph Curry from playing in the postseason, it’s damn near impossible to imagine anyone preventing them from repeating. In the same way that a movie can still be great even if you guess the ending ahead of time, the ups and downs of each of the thirty teams in the NBA are still a ton of fun to follow, even if the eventual champion is basically a foregone conclusion. For me they are, anyway. 

Today I’ll be previewing the Eastern Conference, with the teams presented in the order I think they’ll finish, worst-to-first. I’ll roll out my Western Conference predictions and my picks for the end-of-season awards as soon as I can. Let’s rock and roll.

15. Chicago Bulls. Mother of God, this roster is an atrocity. Zach LaVine is the best player the Bulls have on their roster by a country mile, and he’s currently recovering from a torn ACL. He’s not even going to be cleared for contact until sometime in November. In the meantime, their best player is...Nikola Mirotic? I guess? Mirotic is a 6′10″ PF who averaged as many three-point attempts per game as rebounds last season, while shooting under 42% from the field. Woof. 

This year is all about landing a high draft pick to add to their young core of LaVine and uh, Denzel Valentine, Kris Dunn and Lauri Markkanen. Damn, GarPax. Nice work. 

14. Brooklyn Nets. Oh, jeez. I’ll say this for the Nets: I really liked the move to ship Brook Lopez out of town for D’Angelo Russell. Lopez served no purpose on a team this bad, and there’s always the chance that the next foot injury he suffers is a career-ender. Getting a young guy with Russell’s pedigree for him is a score. In addition, the Nets are doing that thing where a team acts as a dumping ground for other team’s shitty contracts, while picking up draft picks along the way (they got a 2nd rounder from Toronto for taking DeMarre Carroll, for example). 

Speaking of draft picks, it’s impossible to talk about the Nets without mentioning the truly heinous trade that deprived them of their ‘14, ‘16, 17, and ‘18 first round picks. I still can’t believe that happened. The light at the end of the tunnel for the Nets isn’t going to be all that bright until after next season, when their rebuild can finally begin in earnest. In the meantime, enjoy D’Angelo and Jeremy Lin!

13. Atlanta Hawks. I learned recently that Dennis Schroder is a huge douche and his teammates really don’t like him at all. A team’s best player being an asshole isn’t a big deal when the player is a legit stud. When it’s Dennis Schroder, that’s less than ideal. The Hawks have some decently fun guys to watch in Schroder, Kent Bazemore, Taurean Prince and incoming rookie John Collins (pride of Wake Forest). I don’t really see it translating to a whole lot of wins, though. This feels like a transitional year for them, and I’m not sure if coach Mike Budenholzer is the kind of guy who’d want to stick around for a full rebuilding project. I can’t for the life of me find any information on his contract, so it won’t be surprising if he bails after this season, and the Hawks sink into full tank-mode. 

12. New York Knicks. Well, they got rid of Carmelo. The return wasn’t all that great (that’s putting it kindly), but it’s tough to argue that it was the wrong move. Now, the team can focus on developing Kristaps Porzingis into a superstar, and trying to build around him. The Knicks definitely aren’t going to be a GOOD team, but with Kristaps doing Kristaps things, Michael Beasley doing Michael Beasley things, Willy Hernangomez hustling like a madman, and Tim Hardaway Jr. possibly attempting 10 threes a game, they won’t be a total drag to watch. 

11. Indiana Pacers. I love Myles Turner as much as almost anyone, but he’s not enough to carry a winning team by himself quite yet. Victor Oladipo is a fine running mate, and I think he’ll have his best year to date. With Darren Collison and Cory Joseph both on the roster, the Pacers are assured of having a competent, unspectacular general on the floor at all times. I think the Pacers have enough to keep from completely bottoming out, but this still looks like a lottery team.

10. Philadelphia 76ers. There’s not a team in the league with as wide a range of possible outcomes as the Sixers. There are so many “ifs” here. IF Embiid plays 65+ games, and IF Ben Simmons hits the ground running, and IF Markelle Fultz is ready to play, this team could sneak into one of the final playoff spots in the East. On the other hand, IF Embiid has a health setback and another lost year, and IF Ben Simmons is still too raw to count on, and IF Markelle Fultz’s terrible jumper totally undermines his other qualities, the Sixers could find themselves dangerously close to the Nets and Bulls at the bottom of the conference. I think the Sixers will be one of the most fun teams in the league to watch this year, but they won’t coalesce enough to make a legit run at the playoffs until next season.

9. Charlotte Hornets. Truth be told, there really isn’t much of a difference between the Hornets, Pistons, and Magic. The Hornets losing Nic Batum to injury is a bummer, as this is a team that can ill-afford to lose a playmaker. They brought in Dwight Howard, and if the early reports are to be believed, he’s as healthy as he’s been in awhile, and he’s feeling rejuvenated. It remains to be seen how long the honeymoon period will last for him in Charlotte. The Hornets are well-coached and they have several good defenders. Kemba Walker is a legit star and has shown the ability to drag his team to the playoffs in the past. I also really liked their drafting of Malik Monk. Add it all up, and the Hornets aren’t a top-tier franchise, but they’re far from a smoldering trainwreck. I’m not great with compliments.

8. Detroit Pistons. I might be one of the few people remaining on the Andre Drummond bandwagon. I still think he has it in him to be an absolute force defensively, and I hope he makes a leap this season. Bringing in Avery Bradley gives them some more shooting and further fortifies their defense. By surrounding a rim-wrecking big man with shooters, it’s pretty clear Stan Van Gundy is trying to recapture the glory of his Orlando days. If he can get something useful in return for Reggie Jackson, and if Stanley Johnson progresses enough to be a legit rotation player, the Pistons may very well have a stew going. 

7. Orlando Magic. I really like a lot of the Magic players individually, but they’ve had issues fitting together in recent seasons. I think things will be different this year. Aaron Gordon is primed to take a step forward and become an All-Star, and Elfrid Payton has the skill to be a very good PG, especially defensively. Evan Fournier and Terrance Ross can both score in bunches from beyond the three-point line. The organization seems to dislike Nic Vucevic, but he’s a good player. He’ll either be productive for the Magic, or they’ll finally find a trade they like and bring in someone who fits what they want to do. 6′ 10″ rookie Jonathan Isaac was one of the picks at the draft that made the analysts ooh and ahh, so I guess that’s a good thing. 

6. Toronto Raptors. The Raptors are a pretty good team. They have two All-Star caliber players in Lowry and DeRozan, and Serge Ibaka is a perfectly decent third wheel. With that said, it feels to me like they’ve gone about as far as they can go. Most likely, they’ll chug through the season similar to the way they have the last couple of years, and proceed to bow out early in the playoffs. However, it wouldn’t surprise me if they get off to a slow start and decide to fire Coach Dwane Casey. After that, things could really spiral out of control, and DeRozan or Lowry could end up being traded. 

5. Miami Heat. I love Erik Spoelstra, and this roster is tailor-made for a coach to go buckwild trying to cause matchup problems for the opponent. They have an elite rim-protector in Hassan Whiteside, an upper-echelon point guard in Goran Dragic, and a slew of very good role players. There’s size and athleticism up and down the roster. They can go small, they can go big, they can load up with perimeter shooting, they have Peak Dion Waiters, and they brought in Kelly Damn Olynyk. This team as constituted is a blast. The only thing keeping them from legitimate contention is their lack of a go-to superstar. Pat Riley has proven rather adept at securing the services of players like that, but they don’t have any young guys that are obvious trade pieces, and they’re devoid of draft picks for 2018, so odds of an in-season deal are pretty slim.

4. Washington Wizards. I consider myself to be a reasonably WizWoke guy, but much like the Raptors, this feels like a team that’s reached it’s ceiling. The difference between the Wiz and the Raptors is that while Kyle Lowry and Serge Ibaka have caused locker room issues in the past, John Wall and Brad Beal seem to be more measured and mature guys, their own rocky relationship notwithstanding. I don’t see the potential for their locker room to implode the way I do with Toronto. Barring major injuries, this is a team that should coast to home court in the first round of the playoffs. Wall and Beal are a spectacular backcourt, and Otto Porter has improved every year he’s been in the league. Marcin Gortat is steady, but his style of play is rapidly becoming a liability in today’s NBA. They’re an athletic rim-protector away from taking another step forward, and unfortunately those aren’t all that easy to acquire. Also, Markieff Morris is a total piece of shit.

3. Cleveland Cavaliers. Just to be perfectly clear, I’m not saying the Cavs are the third best team in the East. I’m saying they’ll finish with the third-best regular season record. Isaiah Thomas, Derrick Rose, and Dwyane Wade are going to miss a ton of games. LeBron’s only objective is winning a title, and if he thinks resting during the season will improve his chances, he’s gonna sit some, as well. They aren’t going to care about gunning for a #1 seed, because they know they can beat anyone in the East without it. There will probably be a little bit of a feeling out process at the beginning of the year, but this is a veteran-laden roster and it should go smoothly. There’s a faint whiff of danger here, with Isaiah Thomas’ uncertain health, and the cloud of LeBron possibly bolting after the season hanging over everything. I don’t THINK things will take a nasty turn for them, but if they did it would be delightful from an entertainment perspective. 

2. Milwaukee Bucks. I am ALL IN on the Bucks. The term “position-less basketball” has become en vogue recently, and the Bucks are perfectly suited for it. They are flush with young, athletic, lengthy defenders. Half the battle in today’s NBA is trying to force defenders to switch assignments until you end up with a matchup you can take advantage of. Well, the Bucks have a boatload of guys who can reasonably guard every position on the floor. They’re going to be a nightmare to play against. 

In addition to their defensive capabilities, they have motherfuckin’ Giannis Antetokounmpo. He’s a superhuman. I think this is the year he vaults into superduperstardom, and he’s a legit MVP candidate. The Bucks figure to get Jabari Parker back sometime around the All-Star break, and if he can pick up where he left off, it’ll give them a massive boost offensively. Jabari was averaging over 20 PPG and shooting over 36% from three before he went down.

I think the Bucks will keep the pedal to the metal all season long as they announce their presence as a legit team, and as a result the wins will pile up. They are young and hungry, and will enjoy the hell out of wrecking people. The main thing keeping me from vaulting them all the way to the top spot, and giving them serious consideration to make the Finals, is the fact that they’re coached by Jason Kidd. I have no idea if he’s a good coach or not. He does completely inexplicable things all the time, but then he’ll counteract that by pushing all of the right buttons for a few games in a row. Much like the rest of the Bucks, there’s room for him to take the next step forward and become one of the league’s best. 

1. Boston Celtics. I swear this isn’t me being a homer. The Celtics are loaded and they have a very good coach. It’ll likely take them a bit to figure out how to play together, but once they get the hang of things, they’re gonna be really good. Basically everyone has a Celtics-Cavaliers Eastern Conference Finals set in stone at this point. But, whereas the Cavs have the kind of well-earned confidence that allows them to not give a rat’s ass about the regular season and homecourt advantage, the Celtics aren’t there yet. I think getting homecourt for a potential playoff showdown with the Cavs is really important to them, and as a result they won’t let up during the season. Even if Kyrie Irving does miss games, as he’s wont to do, the roster is deep enough that they should still be able to hang with most teams even without him. When you have a team with this amount of talent trying to win as many games as possible, playing in a weak conference, they’re gonna put up a enough Ws to lock up a #1 seed.

Whew! That’s it for the East, be sure to come back next time for my thoroughly uninformed opinions on the West!

[shervonfakhimi]

The 2018-19 Not Actual NBA Awards Ballot

No, I don’t have a ballot, but I watch an unseemly amount of basketball and love to get these takes off. So here’s my not awards ballot for the 2018-19 NBA season.

All-NBA

1st Team

G. Steph Curry PG GS

G. James Harden SG HOU

F. Kevin Durant SF GS

F. Giannis Antetokounmpo SF MIL

C. Joel Embiid C PHI

The first All-NBA team is fairly self explanatory, at the very least for 3 spots. Steph’s shooting percentages are right up there with his career norms, as if 47.9% from the field and 43.9% from 3 on basically 12 attempts per game is normal. Ho hum. In fact, he’s on pace to drain more 3s per game in a season than he’s ever made, including his unanimous MVP season. James Harden is preposterously somehow the league leader in 3 point attempts and free throw attempts this season, helping him get to his historic and utterly absurd 36 points per game despite seeing multiple different looks from opposing defenses within a game, let alone from game to game. Giannis is rampaging through the entire league on both ends of the floor. These three comprise three of the top four players in ESPN’s RPM stat. These three are locks for first team and are very well deserved.

The second forward and center are a little more up for grabs. I don’t believe Kawhi Leonard has played enough games to qualify for the first team, leaving a battle between Paul George and Kevin Durant. George has been a little better defensively, while Durant has been a little better as a playmaker, averaging a career high 5.8 assists per game and 6 per 36 minutes. George’s efficiency has fallen off after a scorching start to the season due to a recent shoulder flare up. Durant is shooting a characteristic 51.8% from the field, though an uncharacteristic 35.4% from 3. Durant has a higher true shooting percentage and effective field goal percentage with a similar usage rate, per NBA.com. George has had a higher impact defensively, per ESPN. Both teams collapse when these two forwards are off the floor. This, to me, is a matter of personal preference. Durant should not be disregarded for playing with a greater cast; George should not be disregarded for playing with zero shooting. Breaking the tie for me would be OKC’s second half breakdown and tumbling down to 6th in the standings. Golden State is 1st. It is super close, but I’ll side with Durant.

The other battle will come at the center spot between Nikola Jokic and Joel Embiid. Both have led their teams to over 50 wins with similar offensive numbers, with Embiid scoring more points per game while Jokic diming more teammates. Denver has less star talent than the Sixers, but the fit with acquiring those stars midseason has been more tricky than the fit in Denver, despite the revolving door of injuries. Embiid has played 14 less games than Jokic, not a drastic but a certainly sizable difference, especially for a team who thrives on offense and uses Jokic in a myriad of ways. Neither are great 3 point shooters quite yet, as both sit around the low 30s in percentages. I believe Embiid makes a greater imprint on the game, though. Certainly it can be difficult to defend Denver’s constant motion offensively and Jokic’s pinpoint precision delivering passes about 90% of the rest of the NBA can’t make or won’t even try to make, but there are still instances where Denver’s offense stagnates and Jokic doesn’t quite go into his killer mode. Embiid’s effective field goal percentage trails Jokic’s, but has a higher true shooting percentage and usage rate in the clutch in part he gets to the free throw line at the second highest rate (only behind Harden), plowing everybody not named Al Horford in his path. Also, Embiid is much more necessary for Philly’s success, as the team is 11.3 points per 100 possessions better when he is on the floor than when he is off (Denver is only 4.7 which Jokic, also in part due to them being a deeper team). Embiid’s defensive presence is much more pronounced than Jokic’s as well, as the Sixers go from the best defense in the NBA when he is on the floor to only the 10th best defense when he’s off. Again, a toss up, but I think Embiid has been a teensy bit better, getting him my first team nod.

2nd Team

G. Damian Lillard PG POR

G. Kyrie Irving PG BOS

F. Paul George SF OKC

F. Kawhi Leonard SF TOR

C. Nikola Jokic C DEN

The second team is rather self explanatory. If you wanted to nitpick and punish Kyrie’s leadership or Kawhi’s missed games to pin them onto the third team, I suppose you can go in that direction. All five of these guys have clearly separated themselves amongst their peers and not only have the numbers, but the winning to back it up.

3rd Team

G. Russell Westbrook PG OKC

G. Kemba Walker PG CHA

F. Blake Griffin PF DET

F. LeBron James SF/PF LAL

C. Rudy Gobert C UTAH

The last two guard spots are particularly tricky. Any two of Westbrook, Walker, Bradley Beal, Klay Thompson, Mike Conley, Eric Bledsoe, Ben Simmons, D’Angelo Russell and Donovan Mitchell, the latter three in the periphery but playing well enough to at least warrant a look. If you value defense and winning, Klay Thompson and Eric Bledsoe have been good enough to warrant a spot. Both have offensive numbers too; Klay is *still* shooting above 40% from 3 and 50% from 2. He’s been durable again and has adequately improved his playmaking with the ball in his hands. Bledsoe is shooting with an efficiency he has yet to perform at in his entire career. Working both for and against them? They play on the two best teams in the NBA, thus not having to shoulder the burden of others here. Bledsoe only finishes 22.3% of Milwaukee’s possessions, while Klay finishes just 25.1%. Both have had very good seasons complementing other all stars, but think others have just better resumes.

Westbrook is not the picture of efficiency by any means. It isn’t just his paltry 3 point shooting (28.6%), he isn’t shooting particularly well from anywhere. He gambles and gets killed on screens defensively far too much for my liking. I’ve become numb to his triple double numbers, though I probably shouldn’t because how hard it is to do. I think these are fair criticisms of his game. But I also do believe his passing has become a little underrated and his team needs him to carry such a heavy workload (30.2% usage rate) because of the severe lack of shooting (OKC ranks 23rd in 3 point shooting percentage) and creators Oklahoma City possesses. OKC’s offense falls off a cliff without him. I was leaning toward leaving him off until he dropped a 20-20-20 masterpiece to honor the fallen Nipsey Hussle. I’d understand if others left him off, but I believe he’s done enough to get a spot. So now there’s one spot left. Mike Conley has averaged career highs in points and assists per 36 minutes on a Memphis team that gave up winning months ago and is a disaster when Conley isn’t on the floor. Bradley Beal is putting up career numbers himself, though has come without the requisite winning or defense, as his team has not defended all that well when he is on the floor nor are his individual defensive numbers up to par, ranking 94th among 115 shooting guards in ESPN’s Defensive Real Plus-Minus stat. That’s not to insinuate Beal is an empty stat guy, because he has clearly proven he can impact winning on a playoff team, nor is it his or Conley’s fault his teams are not equipped to make a deep playoff team… but neither is it Kemba Walker’s. Even through a rotating door of Frank Kaminskys and Dwayne Bacons, Walker has somehow carried his team to the doorstep of the playoffs. He isn’t exactly qualified to be the primary option on a playoff team and fits more nicely as a secondary option, but he still is lifting his team with solid, not great, efficiency and the 7th highest usage rate among. Their offense crumbles without him. I personally think it is harder to do what he has done with that cast to even think about making the playoffs, let alone actually make it. He just ever so slightly gets the nod for me, though I’m not sure the Hornets organization should exactly want Kemba to become eligble for that super-max.

As for the other spots, again, they are fairly easy. LeBron is still LeBron. The missed games and disruption of the Lakers’ locker room ding him down to the third team. Blake Griffin has basically been LeBron-lite for a Piston team devoid of a lot of offensive talent. Gobert vs Towns is the ultimate stats vs winning debate. Gobert will never be able to come close to Towns’ god given talent to score and has been better finding teammates this season, but commands the 2nd best defense in the NBA and has helped lift the Jazz up to 5th in the west, while Minnesota sits outside the playoffs. I’m going with Gobert.

MVP

1. Giannis Antetkounmpo SF MIL

2. James Harden SG HOU

3. Stephen Curry PG GS

4. Damian Lillard PG POR

5. Paul George SF OKC

I honestly don’t know how much stats can really dictate this one. It’s that close. Harden leads in ESPN’s Real Plus-Minus stat, Giannis has efficiency on his side with a high usage in his own right. Harden carried a team from the dead (so dead that it got to the point where Danuel House Jr. using his 45 NBA days in his 2-way contract could’ve been considered a big blow) to the tone of a historic streak of 30+ point scoring games, evolving the revolution Steph set forth with Harden’s killer step back 3. Giannis and Milwaukee have sprinted from start to finish to get Milwaukee up to 60 wins. Milwaukee has been healthy until lately, whereas Houston has had longer stretches where one of Chris Paul or Clint Capela (or both) were gone. Milwaukee is deeper and the East is still the lesser conference from top to bottom. This could really go either way, but I’m going to go with Giannis. As good a post defender Harden is, guess who is better… yup, Giannis. And that’s about the lone argument you can make for Harden being a competent-to-good defender. As unstoppable an offensive player Harden is, and he probably is the most uncoverable player in the NBA, Giannis brings a similar dominance. Offense tends to mean more than defense, but the defensive edge has to tilt into Giannis’ favor given that they both bring dominance on the offensive end. Also, Milwaukee has the best record, best net rating best defense and the 3rd best offense in the entire NBA. To put that in context, the same distance Milwaukee has with Houston in net rating, who has the 5th best net rating in the NBA, would be the same difference between Houston and the 14th best team in the league. If you want to go with Harden he’s just as deserving. I think Giannis has been a little better and valuable to how his team plays, thus giving him the nod.

The rest of the ballot intrigues as well. Paul George scorched the earth and looked like he was a legit MVP winner for a good week or two. His slump/injury and OKC’s downslide lowered him down, for me. I think Steph deserves being number 3 on here. We already know how his shooting has revolutionized the NBA and the him draining shots from the parking lot is what catapults the Warriors into the world beaters they can be. While Steve Kerr elects to play both Curry and Durant together, Steph lifts them into another stratosphere of offensive explosion, with the Warriors scoring an godly 119.4 points per 100 possessions. His numbers are on par with his MVP seasons. He helped calm the mess Draymond and KD created in Los Angeles regarding KD’s free agency. His leadership and destruction offensively, along with playing for the best team in the NBA and best team record wise in the West, gets him the nod. Embiid, Durant and Jokic deserve consideration here as well, but I went with Dame DOLLA. I put Damian Lillard on my ballot last year and am rolling with him here again. Remember that stat about Steph? Well, there’s a similar impact in Portland with Lillard as well. He stabilized a franchise that could’ve undergone massive changes after getting waxed by the Pelicans last year in the postseason. Yet, here Portland is, back in 4th in the West despite injuries to Jusuf Nurkic and CJ McCollum at points this season. I don’t think these intangibles should be swept under the rug regarding the player who you think is the most valuable player in the NBA, because that can be just as, if not more, valuable than what we see on the floor. Not only has Lillard done that, but his percentages have improved this season… again. I think he’s done more with less than others mentioned to get on board on the MVP ballot.

ROY

1. Luka Doncic SF DAL

2. Trae Young PG ATL

3. Jaren Jackson Jr. PF/C MEM

Trae Young has put up an impressive run since February. However, I’m just not sure he has much of a real case. That’s how far a lead Luka got out to. Luka leads Trae in points, rebounds, steals, blocks, field goal percentage, 3 point percentage and effective field goal percentage, despite pacing Young in attempts too. Trae Young was literally the worst point guard in ESPN’s Defensive RPM metric. Luka isn’t exactly Kawhi Leonard either, but he can rebound well & can guard multiple positions. Advanced stats such as VORP, Win Shares, Box Plus-Minus favor Luka as well. That’s not to diminish Trae Young; he’s really good too! That he is this good this quickly on top of the Hawks getting another 1st round pick in their infamous draft day trade are a massive win for the Hawks. But I don’t think it is a hot take to say Luka was better and is more deserving of this award.

The last spot is more up for grabs. Should you go with a guard, Shai Gilgeous-Alexander has done an admirable job starting for a playoff team, especially as a point guard. That’s very hard to do, as evidenced by Trae Young and Collin Sexton’s first half struggles before they picked it up as the year progressed. But I think Jaren Jackson Jr. was better than either guard or big man, including DeAndre Ayton and Marvin Bagley III. He brings an instant versatility defensively neither of those two have brought yet, ranking 11th among power forwards in ESPN’s Defensive RPM. He showcased an ability to guard multiple positions and stretch the floor, the exact type of versatility every team is clamoring for. He desrves the last nod.

MIP

1. Pascal Siakam PF TOR

2. D’Angelo Russell PG BKN

3. De’Aaron Fox PG SAC

4. Nikola Vucevic C ORL

5. Derrick White PG SAS

I voted for Pascal Siakam to be on the All-Star team ahead of D’Angelo Russell. It’s curious to see him get more love for this than an All-Star selection, but, nonetheless, here we are. Either can win this award, but it feels like Siakam has added more to his repertoire than D’Angelo or anyone else in consideration. In most cases, Most Improved Player typically turns out to be some form of breakout player of the year. In Siakam’s instance, he actually feels like someone who has improved his skillset. Last year, Siakam averaged 0.85 points per isolation possessions, per NBA.com. This year? 0.97. He improved in post-ups as well. I’m sure similar numbers can be found for D’Angelo as well, but that doesn’t begin to count the fact that Siakam has improved while now playing against more starting-caliber competition and shouldering a heavier load while Kyle Lowry and Kawhi Leonard have either rested or missed games due to injury, acting as a de facto second option. Siakam is much more of a factor defensively and in transition. I really like both of these two players and have enjoyed their phenomenal seasons. I’m going with Siakam.

De’Aaron Fox and Nikola Vucevic both made big improvements as well. Fox’s feel has allowed the Kings to build an offense geared around his incredible speed. He transformed a franchise that has normant for literally over a decade. Nikola Vucevic has done the same in literally the exact opposite way for Orlando, becoming a lite version of Nikola Jokic as the primary option offensively on the block. Derrick White didn’t play much last season, not allowing us to get a basis for which to evaluate how much he did or did not ‘improve,’ but he has been a major factor why San Antonio is in the playoffs *again,* despite trading Kawhi Leonard and losing Dejounte Murray to a torn ACL. I don’t think either will crack the top two, but all deserve some consideration as well.

6MOY

1. Lou Williams SG LAC

2. Montrezl Harrell PF/C LAC

3. Terrence Ross SG ORL

4. Domantas Sabonis PF/C IND

5. Andre Iguodala SF GS / Dwyane Wade SG MIA

Lou Williams doesn’t start, but he is the Clippers’ closer. He averages 20 a game on a team that was supposedly tanking after dealing Tobias Harris. I think Lou is clearly a lock to win this award. Lou Williams helps Montrezl Harrell and vice versa. Those two have been two of the Clippers three best players all season outside of Danilo Gallinari and have helped carry an afterthought to the playoffs. Terrence Ross and Domantas Sabonis have provided scoring punches to teams that really need it. No perimeter player scores more points per 36 minutes for the Magic than Terrence Ross. I think with perimeter scoring being harder to come by and that Ross often closes games more often than Sabonis does since he and Myles Turner haven’t proven to a formidable duo that can close games quite yet get Ross a little bit of an edge despite Sabonis’ superior passing and rebounding.

Lastly, I just want to give Andre Iguodala and Dwyane Wade some love. Miami didn’t quite make the playoffs, but he still showed to be an impact player despite being on his #OneLastDance. The same stat regarding Terrence Ross can be used for Dwyane Wade. One more year, Dwyane? And for Andre Iguodala, he’s just so smart. The 6th man award typically favors those who contribute and add to the game. Iguodala’s genius comes in the form of taking away, which you could argue is just as valuable. This is one of my favorite stats in the NBA: the Golden State Warriors rank 11th in the league defensively.

DPOY

1. Giannis Antetokounmpo SF MIL

2. Rudy Gobert C UTAH

3. Paul George SF OKC

Paul George and Rudy Gobert provide two different types of defensive stoppers. Paul George is in the Kawhi Leonard mold of basketball’s version of Revis Island: whoever the primary weapon is for the opposition, they get taken away on whatever side of the floor they are on. Utah crafts their scheme to funnel everything into Rudy Gobert, with him essentially guarding everybody at the floor at once. I think that is more valuable than Paul George’s greatness, personally. But the beauty of Giannis is he can do either. He can guard the pick and roll ball handler or the one setting the screen really well. He can protect the rim or switch onto guards really well. He (and Milwaukee’s shooting across the board) allows Milwaukee the versatility to play any style, big or small, really well. They have the league’s best defense by a hair over Utah. For those reasons, Giannis squeaks by Rudy to gain himself another award.

COY

1. Mike Budenholzer MIL

2. Doc Rivers LAC

3. Kenny Atkinson

4. Nate McMillan IND

5. Michael Malone DEN

Milwaukee was a gold mine that maybe any coach could have struck gold with. I’m not sure anybody could have maximized that team this well this quickly quite like Budenholzer has, establishing a new identity on both ends of the floor to feature the strengths of his freakish star. The Clippers have overachieved like no other despite making multiple trades in season. They are starting two rookie guards and a third year center that’s been on a bottom feeder his entire career until now. The job Doc Rivers has done is incredible. He can easily win as well.

I think the job Kenny Atkinson has done has been remarkable. Sure, there is a lot of young talent the Nets have savvily acquired, but they came in the form of castoffs or shrewd decision making. He and his staff has elevated and developed all of their games, from D’Angelo Russell to Caris LeVert to Joe Harris, so on and so forth. Brooklyn made the playoffs withstanding a damn near impossible situation. I think he deserves being third. Nate McMillan has kept the ship floating despite Victor Oladipo going down, overachieving yet again in Indianapolis similarly to what Doc has done in LA. Michael Malone has dealt with dozens of injuries in Denver, yet still has himself the second seed. Imagine what he can do with a healthy Michael Porter Jr. next season.

1st Team All Defense

G. Eric Bledsoe PG MIL

G. Danny Green SG TOR

F. Paul George SF OKC

F.  Giannis Antetokounmpo SF MIL

C. Rudy Gobert C UTAH

2nd Team All Defense

G. Marcus Smart PG/SG BOS

G. Jrue Holiday PG/SG NOLA

F. Pascal Siakam PF TOR

F. Draymond Green PF GS

C. Joel Embiid C PHI

Personally, All Defense, to me, is just a matter of personal preference. There are so many outstanding candidates. If you want to argue others should get on one of these teams, I’m not mad at ya. But most of these guys contribute for elite defenses that win games, earning them nods for me.

1st Team All Rookie

Luka Doncic SF DAL

Trae Young PG ATL

Jaren Jackson Jr. PF/C MEM

Shai Gilgeous-Alexander PG LAC

DeAndre Ayton C PHX

We already discussed Luka, Trae and Jaren above. DeAndre Ayton gradually improved defensively as the season progressed and is already putting up top notch offensive numbers. It isn’t his fault he got drafted to a dumpster of a team. He gets a first team nod. Shai Gilgeous-Alexander starts and contributes for a playoff team as a rookie point guard. That is really hard to do for a rookie point guard. He’s tough, has good feel and gets after it defensively guarding multiple positions. He doesn’t have the gaudiest of offensive numbers, but he already contributes to winning. That gets him on my first team.

2nd Team All Rookie

Collin Sexton PG CLE

Landry Shamet PG/SG LAC

Kevin Huerter SG ATL

Marvin Bagley III PF/C SAC

Mitchell Robinson C NYK

Sexton has had a similar season arc to Young, minus the playmaking for others. Landry Shamet has helped two playoff teams win in a complementary role and is already one of the better 3 point gunners in the league. Kevin Huerter has fit snugly alongside fellow rookie Trae Young and sophomore John Collins with his nice blend of shooting and playmaking. Mavin Bagley III isn’t Luka Doncic, but is still a damn good rookie in his own right. Mitchell Robinson could end up being one of the bigger steals in this draft with his shot blocking prowess.

[hoopslab]

By request: Garnett’s early impact (1990s Timberwolves)

In the  RealGM Top 100 Project 2017, there was a call from multiple posters for someone to look back into the early days of Kevin Garnett’s career, in the 1990s, and try to get a handle on his impact in those seasons. To whit: 

“Anywho, lost in all this chatter about how high Russell could jump (lol), next thread I'd appreciate some input on KG's 90's seasons. I feel like the prevailing thought on them is solid allstar level seasons, but not too special, but looking back at some stats/Minny's play at the time I feel that that take underrates him by quite a bit.” -- eminence 

“I'm with eminence - I want to see more about his 90's seasons”.-- micahclay

This sounded interesting, especially since I've written quite a bit in previous threads about Duncan and I've written several posts in the last day about Wilt and how he compares. Since they're the two frontrunners for this spot, and so far no one's really engaged or pushed back on any of my recent posts, it seems like a good time to do something different. So, 90s KG. 

KG graduated high school the same year that I did, so I paid attention that he was drafted. But I was going to school myself, Georgia Tech, so I didn't have as much time to watch the NBA as I had before and would in a few years. I got to Tech the same year as Stephon Marbury, who electrified campus, and when he went to the pros I paid more attention to his team...the Timberwolves, who the year before had drafted Garnett. So, let's step back a bit and look at Timberwolves history, and how KG came in and changed it. And try to get a better grip on what level his seasons were.

The Timberwolves were an expansion team that came into existence in 1990. Like almost all expansion teams, they basically reaked. In the three years before the 1995 season, they averaged 18 wins a year. In 1995 they won 21 games with a -8.22 SRS. Their main players to end the season was Isaiah Rider, Christian Laettner, Doug West and Tom Gugliotta.

KG as rookie, 95 - 96 season

In the 1995 draft, the Timberwolves became the first team to draft a player straight out of high school in decades. Garnett was a great prospect, but there was no template on what to expect from high schoolers. He started off the season coming off the bench. Googs, Rider, and Laettner were the main starters with Sam Mitchell and Terry Porter also in the mix. Here's a Youtube video of highlights from KG's first career game:

There are some fun elements in this five minute video. First, it's incredible how skinny he is. Second, right from jump, he's playing small forward (he's guarding Walt Williams). He comes off the bench, but one of the announcers mentioned that in preseason he was the team's leading shot-blocker. He has a couple of really good passes, one of them a semi-no look on the break off a steal. And, he knocks down a 22-footer from the top of the key to show that he already had a solid jumper even straight out of high school. KG came off the bench for the first 40 games of his rookie season, as the team tried to take it slow with him. In the games before he became a full-time starter (he did have one spot start in there), KG averaged 19.5 minutes per game, in which he scored 6.3 points (40.6% FG, 69% FT), grabbed 3.8 rebounds, dished 1.2 assists, blocked 0.9 shots, and added 0.8 steals with 1.2 turnovers. His average game score was 5.1. The Timberwolves were 11 - 29 in those 40 games (28% win percentage), similar to the pace that led them to their 21 - 61 record the year before (26% win percentage). About halfway through the season, he moved into the starting line-up. And he immediately began to play more like a future impact player. Garnett was "all legs and arms", as my grandma used to say, and he was youthful exuberance. He started hitting the glass, and more aggressively looking for his shot. He was everywhere on defense, guarding everyone. In some of the Youtube games I came across, I saw him guarding every position. He has multiple plays guarding point guards (see next clip, against Boston, for him on Dee Brown on multiple plays). Against the Lakers, he guarded everyone from Magic Johnson to Elden Campbell. He was stupidly mobile for a 7-footer, and also seemed to have springs in his legs. He was aggressive on help defense, and since he defended everyone from point guards to centers, the angles of his help defense are unique. On offense, he was comfortable operating in the post with his back to the basket; his jumper was a bit flat, but he showed he could knock it down out to 22 feet; and he showed good court vision with a real willingness to pass. Here's a video from later in his rookie season, in his best scoring effort of the season against Boston.

KG ended up with 33 points (14-for-21 FG, 5-for-6 FT), eight boards, four assists, three blocks, a steal and three turnovers. A few things I noticed in clip. The first two touches they show are both post-ups on the right block, and on consecutive moves he spins over opposite shoulders, making the resulting jumper in middle and getting fouled when he spun baseline. Also in this clip, he switches onto Dee Brown twice on D, once getting a steal and in the other forcing a contested jumper. He also, in the clip, has a nice on-ball blocked shot that he blocks softly to himself, then gets the rebound (and showboats a bit). In the second half of the season, with Garnett starting, the Wolves went 15 - 27 (36% win percentage, but worse MOV than first half). In the 42 games after he became a full-time starter, Garnett would play 36.9 minutes per game, averaging 14.1 points (53% FG, 67% FT) with 8.5 boards, 2.4 assists, 2.3 blocks, 1.3 steals and 1.6 turnovers.

Second year, 96 - 97 season

After finishing the previous season 26 - 56, in the offseason the Wolves drafted Ray Allen, but swapped his rights on draft night for Marbury. Marbury and KG were friends from childhood, and were styled to be the next generation Stockton and Malone. Right away, it was clear that the Wolves were a different team. Led by KG, Marbury and Tom Gugliotta they started piling up wins at a rate unseen in franchise history (low bar, but still).The only Youtube clip I can find for '97 is them against the Bulls. It was put together by a Bulls fan, but there are a few Wolves highlights in there.

Some points of interest from clip. KG is being guarded mainly by Rodman, and at least in the plays shown in the clip, he was giving it to him. At about the 5:30 mark on the clip, then in a montage from about 8 minutes to about 9 minutes, it's just a sequence of KG post-ups, defended mainly by Rodman, where KG just does his drop-step and shoots right over him. Shows his comfort in scoring from the block, and out to the midrange jumper. Around 9:45, KG is guarding Pippen, but helps off onto Jordan (actually overhelps), and Pip goes to the rim and get sthe pass for an easy shot. At 12 minute mark, KG and Rodman get into a pogo contest for the rebound. It's interesting, because one of Rodman's strengths is the quickness of his jumps, but KG gets up and down just as quickly for three straight jumps and wins the match-up as Rodman knocks it out of bounds. This is the lead-up to the famous Rodman-kicks-cameraman incident. On the season, Googs, KG and Marbury lead the squad. Gugliatta has by-far the best season of his career next to Garnett (a phenomenon that would be common in KG's career) and made his only All Star team (ditto); Marbury makes the All-Rookie team; Garnett makes his first All Star team as well; and the Wolves win a team-record 40 games and make the playoffs. In the postseason they face the Hakeem/Barkley/Drexler Rockets (57 - 25), and the young Wolves look happy just to be there as they are swept by the veterans. On the season, Garnett averages 17 points (54% TS), 8 boards, 3.1 assists, 2.1 blocks, 1.4 steals and 2.3 turnovers. He leads the team in win shares, BPM and VORP while Googs leads the squad in PER.

Third year, 97 - 98 season

After the success of the year before, the Wolves entered the '98 season feeling like a team on the rise. Garnett and Marbury were a year older and more experienced, and Googs was looking to build on his All Star season. And for the first half of the season, things went fairly well according to schedule. Here's a Youtube clip from their game against the Bulls in that period, where the baby Wolves snuck a win over the 2-time defending champs.

The Wolves straight-up out-energied them. In the clip, KG spent quite a lot of time on Jordan. Jordan quicked past him several times to score; KG ripped him clean once; on another, KG helped onto MJ and blocked his shot but teammate called for foul. KG was everywhere on the boards again, even in game featuring Rodman, and always sprinting the court. He hit clutch jumper with 30 seconds left to seal the upset. At the 41 game mark, the Wolves were 24 - 17, on pace for by-far the best season in team history. Up to this point, Garnett was averaging 17.3 pts (50 % FG, 76% FT) with 9.1 boards, 4 asts, 2 TOs, 1.6 stl, 2 blk. But, at that very point, Googs had to leave to have surgery on bone spurs in his ankle. He wouldn't play another game that season, nor would he ever play another game in a Timberwolves uniform. After Googs went down, Garnett had to take a more active role as both a scorer and rebounder. Over the last 41 games, in which the Wolves went 21 - 20, Garnett averaged 19.7 points (48% FG, 73% FT) with 10.1 boards, 4.5 assists, 2.7 TOs, 1.8 steals and 1.7 blocks. The Wolves would finish with the best record in team history and make the playoffs, both accomplishments for the second straight year. Their reward was a match-up with the 61-win Sonics. In the playoffs Gary Payton gave Stephon Marbury fits, as Marbury struggled to average only 13.8 points on 30.6% FG% with 7.6 assists and 3.6 TOs (regular season, Steph had been 17.7 pts, 42% FG, 8.6 asts/3.1 TOs). And Googs was long gone, on the sidelines. But through four games, Garnett led his young squad toe-to-toe with the more powerful Sonics. Powered by his 18 points (52% FG, 86% FT), 11 boards, 4.3 assists, 3 TOs, 2.5 blocks & 0.8 steals, the Wolves went back to Seattle for the deciding Game 5 tied 2 - 2. Alas, they weren't ready for the big time yet. Garnett had a disastrous Game 5, scoring 7 points (27% FG, 50% FT) with only 4 boards, 3 assists and a whopping 10 turnovers. Terrible way to end the season, but on the whole was a very, very promising season. In addition, 1998 is the first season that we have PI-RAPM for. Garnett's boxscore numbers were very good, especially for a 21-year old, but they weren't quite as good as the 1998 Rookie of the Year, Tim Duncan, who was in the process of taking the NBA by storm. Interestingly, though, it was Garnett that would finish 5th in the NBA in PI-RAPM for the year, behind Shaq, Zo, Mookie and Jordan and just ahead of Tim Hardaway, John Stockton and Karl Malone. Duncan would finish 23rd. Looking at the offense/defense breakdown, Garnett came in a very respectable 34th in ORAPM (slightly behind Duncan's 29th-place finish) that season. But it was in defensive impact where KG shined, finishing 14th (just behind Olajuwon). This would support the notion that Garnett's unique brand of versatile, be-everywhere defense was already making a bigger impact on his team's scoring margins than his box score stats would suggest (a trend that would be true for the length of his career).

Fourth year, 98 - 99 season

Garnett would get a huge contract extension in the offseason that many credit as the one that led directly to the NBA lockout. Also, it was widely rumored that Gugliotta and Marbury couldn't get along, and Googs would leave for Phoenix. The lockout lasted into 1999, a huge disruption, but eventually the league would start back up with a shortened, 50-game season planned. Through the first 18 games, Garnett and Marbury continued to show growth in their games (even if there was clear rust in their shots), as they led the Wolves to a 12 - 6 record out of the gates.

Garnett was averaging 19.9 points (45% FG, 74% FT) with 11 boards, 4.3 assists, 2.8 TOs, 1.9 blocks and 2.5 steals.

But, it turns out that Googs wasn't the only Wolves star that Steph couldn't get along with anymore. Amid swirling rumors that Marbury was jealous of Garnett's status as the franchise player, Marbury would force a trade that sent him to New Jersey. The Timberwolves could have accepted a young Sam Cassell back in the trade, but instead opted for a talented but injured point guard named Terrell Brandon.

Over the next 32 games, the Wolves would struggle to re-find their balance without Marbury. Brandon only played in 21 of the games as he nursed his injuries, and KG would miss three games as well. The Wolves would close the season 13 - 19, to end the season .500 and make the playoffs for the third straight season.

In the last 29 regular season games he played that year, Garnett increased his scoring but saw his blocks fall off the table to the tune of 21.3 pts (47% FG, 67% FT), 10 reb, 4.3 ast, 2.9 TO, 1.5 stl, 1.3 blks. 

In the playoffs, the Wolves would get the #1 seeded (and soon-to-be NBA champion) Spurs. While the Wolves were clearly outclassed, this gave us our first Garnett vs Duncan head-to-head match-up in the playoffs. They wouldn't disappoint. The Spurs won the series 3 - 1, but the 8th-seeded Wolves challenged them more than any of their higher-seeded foes on the way to their championship. In the head-to-head:

Duncan averaged: 18.8 points (51.8% TS), 10.8 reb, 3.3 ast, 3 blk, 0.8 steal, 1.8 TO

Garnett averaged: 21.8 points (48.9% TS), 12 reb, 3.8 ast, 2.3 blk, 1.5 steal, 3.3 TO

For the rest of the playoffs, Duncan would have much more success scoring than he had against Garnett...

Duncan (after 1st rd): 24.6 points (58.7% TS), 11.7 reb, 2.7 ast, 2.5 blk, 0.8 stl, 3.5 TO

This is also the second year we have of PI-RAPM, and again Garnett shined there.

Garnett finished 6th in the league in PI-RAPM in 1999

(Duncan improved to 10th). Looking at the breakdown, again Garnett finished slightly behind Duncan in offensive RAPM (34th, vs Duncan's 30th) but ahead in defensive RAPM (Garnett 8th, again essentially tied with Olajuwon, with Duncan 31st).

Summary

Garnett played four full seasons in the 90s. Almost all of them had some sort of big shake-up mid-season, and we can see his production and the team's outlook change with each one. As far as accolades, he was a two-time All Star (but, there was no All Star Game during lockout-shortened 1999, which would have been his third selection). He made 2nd team All Rookie in 1996, and 3rd team All NBA in 1999.KG showed the tools that he would build upon, from his first game. His combination of length and mobility may just be unprecedented in NBA history, as not only was he playing small forward at 7-foot, but he was spending legitimate numbers of possessions defending guards (in the video clips, we saw him 1-on-1 several times on Jordan and Dee Brown). He was playing a lot of help defense all over the court, starting to show his rebounding chops, and generally being a nuissance on defense. He also showed a great comfortability and repertoire of post moves on offense, had soft touch on his fadeaway and mid-range jumper, and displayed range out to 22 feet. He also had great court vision and was a willing passer.Just as they would in his prime, these tools helped him put up strong boxscore numbers. However, just like in his prime, his on-court impact was clearly better than those numbers. Playing next to KG, Gugliotta had the best season of his career and made his only All Star game. Marbury was looking electric, like a superstar in his own right, but after he left Garnett he would go on to be a marginal impact player at pretty much every stop for the rest of his career. Garnett would finish 5th and 6th in PI-RAPM for 1998 and 1999, demonstrating the big impact that he was having on his team's scoring margins even as a very young player. Early in his career, it was his defensive impact that would outpace his offense. While that flipped in his prime in Minnesota, he returned to that defensive bent later in his career with the Celtics. We also got our first Garnett/Duncan head-to-head playoffs match-up in the 90s, and KG more than held his own (if only someone could have neutralized that Robinson guy, it may have been a more interesting series).All told, not a bad first few years at all for a guy that would still be making strong impacts out to at least year 18.

[womenssportstoday-blog]

Beyond the Goggles: Sophomore Year at UDC

    A black lacrosse player playing for a lacrosse program at an HBCU sounds like it wouldn’t be problematic correct? Well, unfortunately, you couldn’t be more wrong. After my adverse experience at Liberty University. I transferred to the University of the District of Columbia. It’s a small DII located in the Northwest part of DC. I first heard about UDC from my father. While I was at Liberty I had plans of transferring to another DI or possibly even playing rugby. While I had these unrealistic ideas about what I was going to do next, my father was working tirelessly to find me a good fit to continue my lacrosse career. My father found a list of new lacrosse schools and UDC was on it. My father sent an email in my name being me to help get me off my feet. While I was looking for new schools, I was depressed and wasn’t really connected to trying to figure out where I was going to transfer too. I had a lofty goal of transferring to UPENN, and even to Albany. However, my father was realistic and helped me out. I received a call from Melynda Brown, the current head coach at UDC. She was personable, stated that she pushes her girls to work hard, and emphasized that it was a new program and that I would get a lot of minutes. After speaking to her I thought it wouldn’t be that bad. They only thing that turned me off at first was that it was DII. I felt like I was downgrading since I had already played DI. Regardless, my father and I visited UDC two days after I left Liberty. 

    My unofficial visit was the usual. I had two girls on the team show me the campus. I, however, was very disengaged because I was rejected by UPENN the day before. In all honesty, the athletic facility is subpar. We only had one trainer, a weight room that barely had equipment that worked that we shared with non-student athletes. We didn’t have a home field, and I was told on my visit that we would have a home field hopefully by my junior year. That however never happened and isn’t likely to happen anytime soon in my opinion. The whole administration in hindsight is disorganized. It never truly had major improvement during my three-year stay. There were cosmetic ones, but not professional ones for sure. After the UDC visit, I visited Delaware State as well. The coach at that time stated that she didn’t have any money for me for the fall semester, but if I proved that I would be an asset to the team I could possibly receive some money. Earlier in the year, I got accepted into Howard and their coach basically told me the same thing. Out of the three schools where I thought I would feel safe at, UDC was the only school willing to give me money. I didn’t want to bet on potentially earning money, I ultimately choose UDC out of desperation. I thought about going to a PWI like Pace and even Dowling at that time. Pace was a new program at the time and was thrilled to have me on the team. The issue was that I wasn’t sure if I would have had the same experience at Pace that I did at Liberty. In hindsight, I should have gone to Pace, because at least I would have been on a nationally ranked team. That was something that the Pace program was able to accomplish, unlike UDC’s program.  

    I arrived at UDC in the fall and was apprehensive about how it was going to be. Each lacrosse experience that I have had has been less than favorable. What made me feel more comfortable was the fact that I had more teammates that looked like me. For a while, I was either the only black person on the team or while I was in high school I was one of two. However, at UDC I was one of many which made my apprehension decrease. I did have jokes about me being the “Christian” girl for a little bit, but other than that it was all good. Fall ball was extremely easy and I had no issues. I made friends with my roommates, my teammates, and even some of my administrators. I always did the right thing. I was never late to practice, I always handed papers in on time, attended classes and did well in my classes. I was rarely told to do things more than twice, and if I ever had a question I would ask. The issues didn’t come until we reached the spring season.

    One of my bigger issues while playing at UDC was the big differences in skill levels. I was a DI player who played on Long Island, one of the best regions in the country to birth amazing lacrosse players. I, however, played with people who have either never played before or only played for about 2 or 3 years. My sophomore year only 4 of us had played prior to college. I was the most seasoned player at that time and struggled with the lack of knowledge that my teammates knew about the game. I felt at times that I wasn’t progressing because I didn’t have anyone who could grow at the same rate as me. Some of my teammates didn’t know the basics such as cradling and ground balls. We had multiple chalk talks just to explain shooting space, 8-meter, 12-meter, and even the crease. I would go through wall balls quickly and get bored since most of my teammates were still working on going left. I was never truly mad at my teammates for not knowing how to play and the more advanced skills, but mad at myself for not picking a school that would challenge me and make me a better player. 

     During the spring season, we would lose games on average by 18 goals. We struggled at practice to even be productive. We would condition and do stick work and talk about plays. There was always so much explaining because we couldn’t grasp how lacrosse works as a team. Some people would understand and others wouldn’t, which was a huge deficit to our growth as a program. We always lacked the numbers due to substandard recruiting by my coach. Coach Brown would state that we also needed to participate in recruiting, meaning finding students on campus interested in playing. I found that train of thought asinine because players are only obligated to play the sport, stay out of trouble, respect their teammates and coach, and excel at school. Recruiting should have not been a part of my job description at all. Her philosophy on discipline was also bizarre. We had one practice that was just punishment running. It was after a home game. We ran for 1.5 hours and then played “Power Finesse” shortly after. At that time, many of the girls were hurting. We had low numbers so we wore down a lot sooner than other teams. Personally, my back was shot, and so was my goalie’s. One of my other teammates had a torn meniscus, while the other had severe shin splints to the point she would cry when she ran.  The running for over an hour didn’t help us but instead made us more resentful. We ran for forgetting the ballbag, rehab, class, and other things. One time, however, some of my teammates and myself ran for showing up to film, which was optional mind you, but we didn’t send her an email saying we were coming. Mind you, there was nothing on the email stating we had to communicate that we were coming. The mind games that she played were ridiculous. One time we ran because I thought I left my cleats in a hotel. I later found them, so they weren’t lost. The reasoning for us running for that was because I “freaked everyone out.” I don’t see how that is a valid reason for us to do punishment runs.

     Regardless the season was not going well, and it took a bad turn when we played Chowan. Chowan was a school in North Carolina that was well matched to our team. We, unfortunately, lost 20-6. I scored 4 of those 6 goals. On the bus ride home Coach Brown discussed her displeasure with the rest of team about how we gave up and let a game get away from us. Everyone but me. She asked me to come up to the bus with her and our assistant coach. She stated that I was the only person on her team at the time and that no one was. The atmosphere changed since I knew that I was singled out for doing the right things while my teammates weren’t. I was allowed to get my food first for that trip, I’m guessing as a reward for being the only person who played well. Looking back on the situation, I should’ve told her what she was doing was wrong. I should have stood with my teammates and said that even though they weren’t on her team, they were still on mine. I regret not having a voice back then to defend my teammates. 

    After that experience, I felt like my teammates saw me as an elitist. As if I believed “Haha I’m on Melynda’s team and you’re not.” I didn’t want to feel ostracized again, but it felt like it was turning that way. Fortunately, it didn’t, and my teammates seemed to have forgotten about the event. I realized my teammates cared about my presence after I got a concussion midway through the season. My concussion had me out for four games. One of those games was LIU Post, which was nationally ranked. We of course lost, but it was after the game that really stung the team. Our team had attitude issues that would reflect on the field. After the game, we congratulated one of my teammates on scoring her first goal and playing good zone defense against a nationally ranked team. We even won the draw more than we had expected, so overall the loss wasn’t that bad. However, Coach Brown was not content about our attitudes on the field. She explained that we shouldn’t have told other teammates to shut up or talk to the coaches negatively. She stated “You guys basically said, fuck us, so fuck you guys. Fuck you.” She then mentioned that she would not coach for an entire week, meaning we would have to coach ourselves. This action personally hit me really hard because, one, I had just come back from my concussion and wanted to play with my team again, and two, it felt to me like every coach I’ve had has either not believed in me or given up on me. Although she didn’t mention me, she quit on all of us. Literally. She did not come to practice the for next week and would send our assistant coach to watch us from the bleachers. The complete lack of leadership and discipline proved she shouldn’t be coaching girls with “attitude problems.” Giving up on us showed to me that we really weren’t that important. The even worst issue is that she melodramatic lesson learning antics did nothing to make the team better and whole. More than anything it created a bigger schism between all of us than there previously was. 

    The next day after being abandoned, the team had a meeting. The meeting was supposed to be for us to realize that we were bratty at times, not motivated, and to brainstorm a way to get better. Various ideas were thrown around such as respecting each other and just doing the right thing. My approach was to just get better at lacrosse. Our main issue was that we did not possess the lacrosse skills and IQ collectively to be effective on the field. No matter how much we respected each other, if we couldn’t catch or throw, someone was going to get mad. Personally, I could adore you off the field, but if you consistently fail to produce quality work on the field, I will get mad at you if you aren’t fixing it. That’s the understanding that we lacked together as a team. Unfortunately, we didn’t get any better after our meeting. Our captain’s practices were honestly a mess. How can you leave a goalie and two girls who just started playing two years ago to coach a lacrosse team before we played nationally ranked Dowling later that week? Disclaimer, this is not a slight at my captains that year, but more of an analyzation of how you have people who need to improve their own crafts (our goalie), and those who are still actively learning the game to coach and the entire team. The practices were ineffective and did nothing but make the attitude problems worst in my opinion. The worst part about all of this is that our AD, Patricia Thomas knew nothing about this happening. It was recently found out this year that she didn’t know this happened. This, however, is not the first oversight that our incompetent AD has engaged in. That will be in the next post to come. 

    Throughout the spring, we would be told by Coach Brown that we were supposed to be nicer towards each other and respect each other. If anyone ever got an attitude, we would be told “tone” meaning to check our attitudes. However, we would also get told that we were too soft on our teammates. Contradictory correct? It was because some of us didn’t check or correct our teammates because; one, they would have an attitude back and a disagreement would ensure, or two, the person correcting the other would say it in a nasty tone and would get in trouble. The issue was that if we said something, we would get in trouble and would have to run. On the other hand, if we said nothing we would also get in trouble. Thus, there was no way for anyone to correctly talk to a teammate. She constantly flip-flopped on what she wanted from us. She said “you have optional lift or optional practice” and would get mad if no one went. As I coach I feel like it’s necessary to mean what you say. If it really is optional, do not get mad when no one shows up. If you want everyone to put in the work, then say that. Her communication with us was subpar, and it only got worst my junior and senior year. The situations that happened this year were only minute compared to what was about to happen. On the next post, I will discuss my junior year and my ACL tear that changed my college career.

[lostsolsdestinyblog]

I Played 196 games and over 33 hours of Iron Banner and it made me love Crucible again for a week

It is now the day after Iron Banner and, as I did after the last IB, I’ve gone through the numbers and what a story they have to tell. I will start off by saying that I played a lot of Iron Banner; in fact I played a total of 196 games over the 7 days. At an average of about 10 minutes per game, that’s about 33 hours just in the actual games. That is really significant because I was tweeting the days before that I was ready to uninstall the game, I was so pissed off and aggravated playing QuickPlay.

So I have a lot of information here from both IB and QP to go over and it really gets to the heart of why IB was so fun and QP is so not fun. Unfortunately I only have statistics from 113 of the 196 games because guardian.gg stopped showing player ranking from games at some point Saturday night. So I have the numbers from the 113 games it did record, as well as my last 113 QuickPlay games. So let’s dive in!

Iron Banner (sbmm enabled)

Games = 113

Players = 1370 (+14 over base 1356)

Bronze = 181 (13.2%)

Silver = 780 (56.9%)

Gold = 384 (28%)

Platinum = 25 (1.8%)

Diamond = 0

Master = 0

Games with Platinum players = 20 (17%)

Team skill breakdowns

Losing Teams: 98 Bronze, 430 Silver, 155 Gold, 15 Platinum

Winning Teams: 83 Bronze, 350 Silver, 229 Gold, 10 Platinum

QuickPlay (sbmm disabled)

Games = 113

Players = 1410 (+56 over base 1356)

Bronze = 181 (12.8%)

Silver = 829 (58.7%)

Gold = 277 (19.6%)

Platinum = 75 (5.3%)

Diamond = 40 (2.8%)

Master = 8 (0.6%)

Total players Platinum thru Master = 123 (8.7%)

Games with Platinum, Diamond and/or Master Players = 63 (55.7%)

Games with Platinum, Diamond and/or Master on both teams = 18 (16%)

Games with Platinum, Diamond and/or Master on one team = 45 (40%)

Team skill breakdowns

Losing teams: 106 Bronze, 443 Silver, 122 Gold, 28 Platinum, 8 Diamond

Winning teams: 75 bronze, 386 Silver, 155 Gold, 47 Platinum, 32 Diamond, 8 Master

Now this is where a lot of the arguments against sbmm fall apart. There is a common myth that because the top 6-10% (Platinum), 3% (Diamond) and 1% (Master) are such a small percentage of the player population, that we will very rarely see them in games. This has always been flawed for a number of reasons. First, they may only make up about 10-14% of the actual PvP player base, but they are on and playing more than everyone else and so they’re a higher percentage of who is actually on and playing at any given time. Secondly, there are 12 people in each match. With no skill considerations, it stands that the overall makeup of those lineups will ultimately reflect the full spectrum. Out of every 10 players in games, over the course of all our games, close to 14% are going to end up being top 14% Players.

So what you get is the numbers above. Platinum thru master might only be 8.7% of the players in those games, but they are in 55% of the games. That’s 1 out of every 1.79 games that I’m playing in QP where there is a top 10% player running the floor with opponents and 1 out of every 2.5 that it’s just one team with the ringer(s). It’s not fun for anyone on the losing ends and even when they’re on my team it sucks just picking up scraps against a team that has no chance while one of my teammates dumps 35-45 kills.

So compare that to my Iron Banner experience with no Diamond or Master players and only having to face a Platinum tier 1 out of every 10 games. The difference is playing 3-4 games and being so pissed I want to uninstall the game, to playing 196 games over a week and having the most fun I’ve had playing Destiny PvP in 3 years.

It cannot be overstated how much skill in matchmaking benefits 90% of the player base, and the kicker is that it’s basically a wash for the Platinum tier. Their sbmm experience is going to look a lot like QP now, and even the Diamond and Master tier still play the lion’s share of their games against Silver and Gold opponents, but they will face less Bronze and more teams with at least a player their skill. They will also face more fireteams and less solo players.

Another false notion that is set forth over sbmm is that is forces players into 50/50 win-loss ratios. That’s not true. Winning and losing is still in the individual player’s control, the difference is that sbmm seeks to put each team’s odds of winning closer to 50/50. It’s never going to be exact and one team will always have a bit more of an advantage going in, either on skill or fireteam size, but I’d rather have my odds closer to 50/50 than a 10% or 90% chance of winning going in.

Also to the ever repeated comments that sbmm causes lag, Out of over 2352 players in my 196 IB games, I saw about 6-8 that were laggy and only 3-4 that were really bad.

I hope this continues to show how much skill in matchmaking is a wonderful thing for the overall health of the game and I really hope that Bungie put it back into QuickPlay. It’s a real shame that we never got to experience how fun D2 PvP could have been from just the return to 6v6 and the new sandbox. I’m actually dreading going back to QuickPlay and as much as I loved the game last week, I hope I don’t hate it again by the end of this one.

Also, this isn’t to say that Iron Banner is perfect either and can’t still be improved upon.One out of every four games being a mercy is way too high. I don’t think removing the lockdown mechanic is the answer as it does give a uniqueness to IB, but it could definitely use some love. Maybe disabling lockdowns until both teams hit 25 or adjusting the score multipliers or cap times. I’m sure there is a solution that can lead to less early blowouts though.

Here are links to previous posts and videos I’ve done on the topic if you’d like to hear more. Thank you.

A Beginner's Guide to Destiny PvP Matchmaking https://youtu.be/s6ilnUPwiPE

A Deeper Dive Into Destiny 2 PvP Matchmaking https://youtu.be/4dqWoyy52Ho

Last Iron Banner Blog Post https://lostsolsdestinyblog.tumblr.com/post/180254236110/iron-banner-by-the-numbers-and-a-deep-dive-into-d2

[flauntpage]

Ten Takeaways from the Sixers’ Post-Free Agency Press Conference

The Sixers introduced their new acquisitions today in a press conference that included Managing Partner Josh Harris and General Manager Elton Brand.

A LOT was said, so I tried to parse it down into ten of the most important quotes and takeaways from the availability:

1. Tobias Harris in a featured role

Elton Brand didn’t waste any time basically admitting that Tobias Harris, who signed a five-year, $180 million deal, will see more of the ball this season, saying this:

Tobias Harris – elite player. You’re gonna see his growth. He’s gonna have the ball and be able to do things that last season he may not have shown. We’re looking forward to his growth.

Harris was asked about his penchant to be deferential at times last year, and how he might be looking to showcase himself more this season:

I’m looking forward to that a whole lot. I know last year when you come over from a trade and it’s a different talent level in the group, obviously you have to sacrifice for the unit. But I know my game and I know how I continue to improve year after year. I can come into next year with that kind of energy, that kind of fire to improve my game and show different parts of my game, too. Obviously I’ll have the ball in my hands in more different situations and I’m ready for that. I’ve been working out all summer to get ready for that.

With Jimmy Butler and JJ Redick gone, the door is wide open for Tobias Harris to take on more of the scoring burden.

2. “it felt right” to Al Horford

Al Horford was asked about his relationship with Elton Brand as a past teammate, and he told a story about their time together with the Hawks:

We were getting ready to go to dinner one night, some of the guys and I, and he was in the elevator just going back to his room. He was coming from the gym sweating after doing like an hour of cardio. His commitment to wanting to win and doing the right thing inspired my back then. He believes in me and believes in this group and believes in what we can do. When they came knocking and approached me, it felt right. I know he wants what’s best for this city.

3. on Jimmy Butler’s departure

We got a canned quote from Elton Brand on Jimmy Butler heading to Miami:

First of all, very happy for Jimmy, that he landed in a place he wanted to be. I won’t go in-depth about the negotiations, but he had a great season for us and we appreciate everything he contributed to us. We just want to wish him well and wish him the best.

I’m sure Butler will have more to say when he’s introduced in Miami.

4. The Josh Richardon and Tobias Harris Tennessee connection

Good story from Josh Richardson, who says he was just starting out at Tennessee when Tobias Harris was entering the NBA:

When I was there and other freshmen were there, Tobias actually took us to dinner. I was 17 years old and had just left home, so I didn’t really know anything yet. He took me out to dinner and just kind of talked to me about how to approach basketball, how to approach college, you know, how to handle yourself in life. I always appreciated that and took heed of that.

Harris says he first met Richardson during the lockout year (2011-2012), and he was going back to school “because my mom made me.”

5. depth behind Joel Embiid

Maybe the most important thing about having Al Horford on the squad is his ability to spell Joel Embiid on back-to-back nights, sliding down to center. Same goes for Kyle O’Quinn, and I asked Elton Brand if this depth allows him the flexibility to pace Joel and deliver him to the postseason in good health:

When I spoke to Joel and he spoke to the group also in his exit interviews, he understood that the goal was to deliver the best Joel Embiid to the postseason. Whatever that takes, he’s on board with that, and having these options. We did fall off a cliff when Joel was off the court, especially defensively. So having these great options now, that bodes well for our success, and he’s on board, for sure.

I’m a big proponent of putting Embiid on the Kawhi Leonard plan, aka, no back-to-backs at all.

6. walking to the finals?

James Ennis was asked about his recent declaration that the Sixers would “walk” to the finals this year.

He didn’t take that comment back:

I’m confident in this group and I believe in this group, and I believe in coach Brown and Elton and all of our guys want to win. As a player, you want to win all the time. It’s gonna be tough; it’s the NBA, but I believe.

We’ll see. The east ain’t what it used to be, not this year.

7. Horford’s timeline

How did Al Horford end up in Philly? What was the timeline that led to his signing of a four-year contract?

When I decided to opt out it wasn’t an easy decision. But I did it and I felt like there were going to be a lot of options for me. When June 30th came around, things escalated very, very quickly. There were multiple teams, a lot of strong interest, and I had to make what was the best decision for me. When Elton called and spoke with my agent, he laid down this offer, I was very surprised that there was strong interest for me being here. But that made the decision very easy. It was very easy and I’m just excited to be part of this.

I personally would also find it very easy to sign for four years around $100 million at age 33. But seriously, Horford should be a very good player on this team, a nice fit and a perfect flex backup for Embiid when necessary.

8. Raul Neto’s role

Don’t sleep on Raul Neto, who should log plenty of minutes as the Sixers’ backup ball handler behind Ben Simmons.

Said Neto of his current game and where he is right now in his career:

I think I’ve had different roles, and being in Utah for four years, I started my first season, then in my second season I almost didn’t play and I ended up being the backup point guard for the playoffs. In my third season I played a little bit more, then last year I had a couple of injuries so I didn’t have a chance to play that much. Right now I’ve got more confidence and I’m more aggressive than I was three or four years ago. I’m just ready for whatever my role is going to be on my team, I’m happy to be a part of it. I think I can bring spacing and shoot the ball from the outside, which I think is going to be the biggest thing for me and this team.

It’s very true that the Sixers need consistent outside shooting. Neto is a career 37.7% three point shooter but he’s only averaged 1.5 attempts per game. He’ll have opportunities to improve that here.

9. “I need to win”

Veteran Kyle O’Quinn will be a backup in Philly, but he sees this as a good opportunity to play for a good team:

Going into my eighth year, I can’t look at a role that’s bigger than the picture that I need. I need to win. I like to win. I can’t really play for anything other than winning, when those games start rolling, the season is long, you have to step in and I think that’s when you really earn your respect, when you really get a tap on the back for yourself, stepping in when you need to be ready, and that’s been my career. I don’t shy away, I never say ‘no, this role is too small for me.’ I embrace it and I really enjoy that, whether it’s a 10-game stretch or a two-game stretch, minutes up and down, I’m ready for those.

He’ll get plenty of minutes this year, no question.

10. Josh Harris on expectations

Finally, here’s Josh Harris on what he wants from the team this season:

Look, I think this group, if it jells, and it will jell, will bring a championship to Philly. I think that’s what we’ve been trying to do. Obviously it’s the NBA and things happen – injuries, the ball might bounce one way or another as we all know. When that happens, I’m not sure, but I’m really confident we’re gonna be winning a lot and making this city proud. I’m really confident in the group, so all of us have high expectations for ourselves.

There you have it.

Happy Friday.

The post Ten Takeaways from the Sixers’ Post-Free Agency Press Conference appeared first on Crossing Broad.

Ten Takeaways from the Sixers’ Post-Free Agency Press Conference published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

[thornburgrealty]

Kind last thing straw the blacks from the bad part

Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd, racist or sexually-oriented language. Miami could also use more pitching. That was a lot of adversity we Leonard Johnson Jersey faced that game. A quality player, Schwartz’s career likely would have gone much differently if he had been able to stay on the field, Omicidio Francesco Lorusso: Una storia di giustizia negata (Italian Edition) but he missed all of 2011 with a hip injury and played just 13 two seasons with the Giants. I’m out of uniform, replied. He was a great partner to have; a great teammate. ‘s your to be a part of the most exciting cheerleading team the NFL! At Panthers shop you can shop a refined collection of licensed Panthers jerseys. Shy and retiring by nature, usually remained Greeneville during ‘s political rise. Harbaugh would like to be reunited with one of his players from Super Bowl XLVII.

They eventually had five children: , Constantine, Jr., , , and . Galloway said he and consider New Orleans home, but it’s nike nfl jerseys 2017 not home. While the Mets might be the most extreme and frightening case, it’s not entirely cheap jerseys isolated one. That’s basically what they did. Nothing has gone according to plan for the Milwaukee Bucks guard after his arrival off- trade with the Toronto Raptors. The rebuilding Browns are trying to assemble a bully up front. Regardless of where these pieces fall or fell on the merits, they set off a firestorm Twitter, a reliably furious iteration of a perpetually angry platform. Despite his outstanding regular numbers, Pettitte was even better the postseason, going 18 with New during their brilliant stretch the late 1990s and 2000s. I felt like I could put my whole wrist them, Tosches said. , who continued that lineage under the Saban regime that began 2007, put up impressive numbers, but they were hardly exceptional. Later, Nash joined the wholesale nfl jerseys supply Phoenix Suns and coach Mike D’Antoni, and their Seven seconds Kevin Johnson Jersey or less offense changed the league. AP file 2013 Clemens patted his chest to cheering fans during a ceremony at Fenway Park last year.

Grubbs hasn’t made any official announcements about his football future. Gee’s travels: On July 11, he http://www.patriotsprostore.com/malcolm-butler-jersey-c-1_42.html was traded from to New Orleans. It’s hard to tell someone they should pursue higher education when there’s not examples of people with Ph.D.s. He sat there, a pretty quiet and reserved kid. As as he heard that, -‘ face changed. He has volunteered his time as a YMCA Youth Sports Volunteer and also as part of Nebraska’s team hospital visits. You’re not alone. Imo, besides having no confidence , this is the other elephant the room. Aside from exposing the hordes of scams & worthless ventures on the Internet, I have made it mission to provide the absolute best legitimate Internet business nike nfl jerseys 2017 income opportunities available anywhere Online. This is done so that you can use the Free Trial or Developer Subscription to complete the majority of your integration before cheap jerseys having to upgrade to one of our premium API subscriptions. It helps us stay on our angles and holds them on the backside of the play just enough we can make our blocks. It’s a late 2nd rounder, and it all depends on who Yahoo adds.

Gibson’s 55 stands alone as the pinnacle of golf records; one that I am going to go on record as saying is unbeatable. Maybe seven. And it’s clear what option he is hoping for. ‘s efforts at UCB eventually earned him a spot on the comedy mecca, http://www.authentic49ersshop.com/shop-by-players-phil-dawson-jersey-c-1_37.html Saturday Night Live, fulfilling one of his lifelong dreams. Draft Breakdown and its staff do not use said Kosuke Fukudome Jersey video clips advertisements, marketing or for direct financial gain. Arts patrons gathered a ballroom of The Main for a luncheon, Tuesday, Feb.7 and to announce The Main Event, 24th-26th a celebration of the arts produced by Arts Festival and also the private Grand Opening of hotel built by Beach developer Thompson. when your evaluate his worth based wholesale nfl jerseys supply on just how catches he made your missing entirely his value to this team. However, nike nfl jerseys 2017 he is willing to accept a veteran’s minimum deal to continue his http://www.fezuone.com/robert-horry-jersey-c-1_13.html career: – Kyler August 28 During the height of his career, Sanders was a legit defensive force the paint. He’s a better player than on the staff, and certainly than I, wholesale nfl jerseys supply thought he would be. Spisak likens its potential role to that of the elaborate second-screen experience offered by ‘s Story Sync interactive app.

He was helped to his feet and off the field by the Bears’ medical staff and placed on a cart and taken to the locker room. He’s been practicing for a few weeks now and should be ready to play against the Rams. When things are going poorly for him and the team, Giroux puts too much pressure on himself to perform, Hextall said. has played a lot of football, I’ve played a lot of football. He extends his hand. He should be universally owned NL-only leagues, and he’s an intriguing MI option for mixed leagues well. Beginning to think Cuban was optimist when he talked about the NFL. 8 Eagles, averaging 17 points, 3 steals and 5 steals. The 6, 195-pound guard is the nation’s only cheap jerseys returning All-American. During eight years the Orioles rotation, he never had a losing . We won’t know until it’s official.

from WordPress http://www.thornburgrealty.com/2018/07/05/kind-last-thing-straw-the-blacks-from-the-bad-part/

[brido]

In Defense of Sammy Sosa

I never loved Sammy Sosa. I just want to be clear about that from the get-go. My favorite player growing up was Andre Dawson. And I used to have to defend that choice, even to other Cubs fans who favored Ryne Sandberg and Mark Grace. But Dawson was always my guy. Then to see Sosa come in, play the same position and completely eclipse everything Dawson ever did was almost personal to me. Like, the right field bleachers is doing the ‘salami’ to Sosa? That was Andre’s Army! I almost felt a sense of betrayal.  

On top of an unnecessary personal loyalty to Dawson, I felt like the Great Home Run Chase of 1998 brought out a bandwagon element to the Cubs that I was uncomfortable embracing. And I thought all the anticipation over Sosa’s home runs made fans at Wrigley stupid - cheering for any ball hit into the air, only to get faked out by easy fly balls. Cubs fans got a bad rap for being drunken idiots who didn’t know the game, didn’t follow the game and were just there to be morons. I heard it all the time from Cardinals fans and White Sox fans. And I hated that it was at least partially true.  

Here’s the thing though: none of that is Sosa’s fault. He didn’t make new fans stupid or tell them to get drunk at the ballpark. Hell, a lot of that was the culture of the park, the culture of the city and the fact that every national broadcast of a Cubs game from 1982-1997 was announced by a beloved grandfatherly figure who also happened to be slurring every word by the 7th inning. I mean, I’ve been drunk at Wrigley Field a number of times. I love that park. I love that city. I loved being drunk there. And I loved Harry Caray too. At least in hindsight. So why not try to love Sosa?

Before I start naming the reasons to not love Sosa that I assume you’re probably thinking of, let me remind you as much as I need to remind myself; There were many times Sammy Sosa made you happy. REALLY happy. I mean, those bleacher bums in right kinda had a point. And so did the bandwagon dipshits. Sosa was pretty goddamn exciting sprinting out to right and doing the pop-and-hop after he crushed one onto Waveland. There was also the playful way he tapped his chest and blew kisses to the camera. He gave us June of ’98, when he hit 20 home runs in a month, which is an all-time record. And that home run chase was actually fucking great. The whole country got swept up in it, no matter how clouded it seems now in 20/20 hindsight. And it could be argued that the ’98 season helped to erase the memory of the ’94 strike and put the game back in the good graces of the fans.  

There was also the American flag home run in the first game at Wrigley after 9/11. And the two-run home run in the bottom of the 9th in Game 1 of the NLCS in 2003. Yeah, that series isn’t fun to think about now, but Sosa hit .308/.455/.577 in those seven NLCS games. So you can blame Steve Bartman or Alex Gonzalez or anybody else until the cows come home. But nobody in their right mind can blame Sosa.   

Okay. Now that we reminded ourselves how happy he made us, we can go further into just how good he was. 

Sosa was the best player on the Cubs (in terms of fWAR) from 1994-1996 and then from 1998-2002. He didn’t really qualify in ’92. Grace was better in ’93 and ‘97. Moises Alou surpassed him in 2003. And we’ll get to 2004. But during his overall time in Chicago, Sosa was almost twice as good as the next best player (Grace) in Wins Above Replacement. If you go off of Bill James’ Superstar accomplishments list, it breaks down like this…

1993. Member of the 30/30 Club (33 home runs and 36 stolen bases). 4.1 WAR.  

1994. .545 SLG. .300 AVG. 

1995. Member of the 30/30 Club (36 home runs and 34 stolen bases). 119 RBI. .500 SLG. 5.3 WAR.    

1996. 40 home runs. 100 RBI. .564 SLG. 5.4 WAR.    

1997. 36 home runs. 119 RBI.  

1998. He briefly held the single-season home run record. Named the National League MVP. Led the league in RBI (158). Led the league in Runs scored (134). 66 home runs. .647 SLG. 6.5 WAR. .308 AVG.        

1999. 63 home runs. Started in the All-Star Game. 141 RBI. 114 Runs. .635 SLG. 4.8 WAR.      

2000. Led the league in Home Runs (50). .406 OBP. Started in the All-Star Game. 138 RBI. 106 Runs. .634 SLG. 5.7 WAR. .320 AVG.      

2001. Led the league in RBI (160). Led the league in Runs scored (146). 64 home runs. That made him the only player in history with three seasons of 60 home runs. .437 OBP. Started in the All-Star Game. .737 SLG. 10.3 WAR. .328 AVG.      

2002. Led the league in Runs scored (122). Led the league in Home Runs (49). Started in the All-Star Game. 108 RBI. .594 SLG. 5.7 WAR.       

2003. 40 home runs.  103 RBI. .553 SLG.  

2004. 35 home runs. Started in the All-Star Game. .517 SLG.   

Boy, look at all that selfish play. James ranks him as a bona fide superstar from 1998-2003. He hit more home runs over a 5-year period and over a 10-year period than any other player in Major League history. He’s the all-time Cubs leader in home runs (545). Of the 10 players with the most-comparable stats, 9 (Jim Thome, Mike Schmidt, Reggie Jackson, Ken Griffey Jr., Harmon Killebrew, Eddie Mathews, Mickey Mantle, Willie Stargell and Willie McCovey) are in the Hall of Fame. He was Sports Illustrated’s co-Sportsman of the Year in 1998. And, not for nothing, Bill Clinton invited him as his guest to the 1999 State of the Union address, where he sat in between Hillary Clinton and Tipper Gore and was one seat over from Rosa Parks.     

Advanced stats tell a slightly different story than the standard ones do. If you look at Sosa only in terms of WAR, he basically only had two elite seasons (1998 and 2001) and JAWS ranks him as the 18th-greatest right fielder of all time, below the average standards for the position amongst Hall of Famers (which are higher standards than any other position, anyway due to Babe Ruth, Hank Aaron and Stan Musial having played in right) and behind non-Hall players like Larry Walker, Shoeless Joe Jackson, Dwight Evans and Reggie Smith. 

However, Sosa’s peak (WAR7) is right above the average for all 25 hall of famers at the position. Which isn’t nothing. He’s also 5th all-time in WAR for all Cubs players (behind Cap Anson, Ron Santo, Ernie Banks and Ryne Sandberg, but ahead of Billy Williams) and the Hall of Stats site puts him in their Hall of Fame, considers him the 16th-best right fielder of all time (one spot behind Dawson, which I don’t mind) and the 6th-greatest Cub of all time (behind Anson, Santo, Sandberg, Banks and Gabby Hartnett).      

Okay. Now that we reminded you how happy he made you, and how he ranks as an all-time great, especially an all-time great Cub, we can talk about some of the negatives. 

In 2003, Sosa got caught with a corked bat. Fine. I probably don’t need to find a physicist to tell you how corking a modern bat doesn’t really do anything besides make it lighter. But the league already disciplined Sosa for that and, in the process, examined 76 of his bats and found nothing else. Maybe it was an honest mistake. Maybe he doctored one bat for batting practice, thinking it did anything. And then maybe he accidentally used it in a game. So what? How that negates everything I’ve already listed above is beyond me. The corked bat should be a nonissue. 

Now we can talk about 2004. At the end of the disappointing 2004 season (where the Cubs actually won one more game than than their previous NLCS-bound season), Sosa showed up late to the final home game, asked to sit out the game, never even dressed for that game and then went home early. He claimed he didn’t leave until the 7th inning, but security footage showed him leaving shortly after the start of the game. Then one of his teammates (rumored to be Kerry Wood, Paul Bako or Todd Walker) smashed his salsa-blaring boombox, which apparently sent the message to the organization that his teammates wanted him gone. Or that they hated him for playing the same CD every day. Either way, the Cubs shipped Sosa off to Baltimore in January, to make for a pretty inauspicious ending to his pretty spectacular tenure in Chicago. 

So maybe Sosa shouldn’t have done all that in 2004. And he probably shouldn’t have criticized manager, Dusty Baker the next day either. But he and Baker patched it up pretty quickly during the offseason. And Sosa has since apologized for everything and even paid a $87,500 fine for the incident. And listen, that season was frustrating for everyone involved. Especially when the long-suffering Cubs had gotten so close the year before. Sosa, who had suffered bizarre injuries and slumped for large portions of the season, felt like he was taking the brunt of the blame for his team’s failures. He also felt humiliated by being dropped to 6th in the order by Baker. There are better ways it could have been handled. But fans booing his image at the Cubs Convention the following winter is just as fucking petty.   

Look, those were really dark times for the Cubs fanbase. And I mean downright ugly. I cringe even thinking about the way the Wrigley Field fans treated Bartman during Game 6 the previous year. I cringe thinking about those fans during the NLDS in 2008 after Ryan Dempster gave up the grand slam to James Loney in the 5th inning of Game 1. And I think it took multiple years and a major cultural change in the organization before it even started to get better. 

But don’t tell me Sosa walked out on the fans. He walked out on Dusty Baker. And you don’t even like Dusty Baker. It was a meaningless game the Cubs won 10-8 anyway. Nobody can honestly tell me they still give a fuck about that game. And you also don’t give a shit about the precious Cubs fan base. Especially not after the way you treated Bartman. Oh, look at us, the precious Cubs fans! We wanted to kill one of our own just because he was easiest to scapegoat for all our hurt feelings and years of frustration.  

I think the reality of the situation is that Sosa came to symbolize an era of dashed hopes and futility to the bandwagon contingent, too fickle to deserve calling themselves Cubs fans to begin with. If you hate frustration and futility, as a Cubs fan, you can also hate Ernie Banks, Fergie Jenkins, Billy Williams, Greg Maddux, Ryne Sandberg and any other Cubs player who was unfortunate enough to play for that team during the miserable 108-year drought.   

And we still haven’t talked about steroids. 

Fine. During a time the Cubs fanbase decided they hated Sosa, anyway, he appeared in those infamous Congressional hearings and had his lawyer read his incredibly vague statement for him due to English being his second language. You want to be mad about that? Cool. Do you know how much money the U.S. government wasted trying to catch Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens in a perjury case? Well, they came up with exactly nothing for all their efforts. And the same shit would have happened with Sosa too. 

His lawyer read his carefully worded statement in English. The statement left room for him to have technically taken steroids orally, in pill form, from a prescription from a doctor in the Dominican Republic. Sosa didn’t have to trip up on the wording in the hearing. And your tax dollars went to a road or a school instead. Or a war in the Middle East. Whatever. You get my point. 

Then there’s the 2009 article in the New York Times naming Sosa as one of the ‘anonymous’ players who tested positive for PED’s in 2003. Ugh. Do you know how many problems there are with citing that story as your reason Sosa did steroids? Okay sure, Doctor SuperFan, what drug did he do then? What was the source of the information? Can the test you’re citing distinguish between PEDs and over the counter, legal drugs? You have no earthly idea. 

And this was in the Wild West days of the league before they even had a PED policy, in an era of almost total complicity, from the fans and all the way up to the commissioner’s office. Sosa never actually failed a drug test. He was never actually disciplined by the league. And all you have is your eyeballs and the thoughts and opinions of other clueless fans who are also not biochemists, don’t really know how PED’s can even affect baseball performance, don’t know about Sosa’s dogged work with Jeff Pentland in the batting cages after the 1997 season, don’t even lift fucking weights to know how that works and probably still get a red ass over his corked bat for the same ignorant reasons.

Don’t get me wrong. He totally did steroids. 

But I can’t prove it. And either can your buddy from work or the four guys you know who still try to say Barry Bonds’ head got three times bigger or whatever. That’s my point. And by now you’ve already forgotten that Sammy Sosa, on several occasions, made you really, really fucking happy.   

So what else? What other anti-Sosa arguments could you possibly have? Tom Ricketts wants an apology from him? Tom Ricketts has $900 million. Why doesn’t Tom Ricketts apologize for the wage theft and economic scarcity that allows him to have that type of money in the first place (to paraphrase a meme I saw posted about Bruce Wayne one time). But talk about cheating. Dude is an investment banker. I don’t think he gets to star in his own morality play on this one.

Sosa put asses in seats for 13 years in Chicago. For the Tribune Company. He owes Tom Ricketts fuck all. Especially since Ricketts, like your buddy from work, can’t prove a goddamn thing about his PED use. He doesn’t have special information about it because he’s rich. Plus, the same phony-pearl-clutching, butt-hurt Ricketts allowed the Cubs to hire twice-busted steroid user, Manny Ramirez, as a hitting consultant in 2015 and 2016. That’s him in the photo above smiling like he didn’t get caught taking female fertility drugs in 2009. Meanwhile at the 100-year celebration at Wrigley Field, as well as the Cubs’ World Series celebrations, everyone had to pretend Sosa never existed, that he never did all the wonderful things he did for the team and that he never made you really, REALLY happy. The only thing Ricketts should be mad about is that he didn’t own the team when Sosa was making them millions in merchandise sales. Shut up, rich kid.    

As Cubs fans, it’s time we let all this shit go. Just like we let most of the rest of the old culture go. Thankfully, “That’s Cub” and other Maddonisms replaced the “Cubby Occurrences” of Lou Piniella or the frustrations of the Dusty Baker era. Or any other era, for that matter. We weathered the storm of Game 7 in 2016. Literally and figuratively, thanks to Jason Hayward. We watched Kris Bryant slip on the grass and throw a ball to Anthony Rizzo that could have easily sailed over his head, kept the inning going for Cleveland in the 10th and added to our collective list of miseries. But it somehow didn’t happen. The throw found its way to Rizzo’s glove. The Cubs won the goddamn World Series. They had a giant parade. Even Bartman got himself a ring. And I’m supposed to be mad that Sammy Sosa took a pill to make himself better at baseball over 14 years ago? Beat it, nerd. 

Barry Bonds is getting his number retired by the Giants later this year. Mark McGwire has been back in Major League dugouts. Roger Clemens has too. And his number 21 jersey hasn’t been used by the Red Sox since he left in 1996. Sammy Sosa had to hit his 600th career home run off of Jason Marquis, while Marqis was wearing Sosa’s rightful number 21 jersey for the fucking Cubs. How’s that for irony?  

Sosa’s already been punished long enough. They all have. Sosa isn’t getting into the Hall of Fame any time soon. He got less than 8% of the vote last year. In his 6th year on the ballot. And he’s basically been banished into baseball exile for over a decade like he was named an enemy of the people in some Stalin-esque purge.  It’s been 14 years. Contaminating food or water for terrorist purposes only gets you 10 years. Jesus Christ. 

But it doesn’t have to be this way. By now the Cubs can put the ugliness of the drought years behind them and actually honor a man who turned so many people at Wrigley into fans in the first place. 

Forgive Sammy Sosa, everyone. He took nothing from you. He only gave to you. And remember, he made you really, really happy. 

(Decide later if this was all just a trick so the Cubs also retire Dawson’s number and honor him with his own appreciation day... Since, you know, they can’t really do it honestly without taking care of Sosa first.)