#just with they weren’t good for the game against utah but oh well

[korshrimpski]

no actually I don’t think I’ll be normal about this

[wosoimagines]

You Have To Be Okay - Christen Press/Reader

prompt: Hey ! Could you do a part 3 of the ‘you okay ?’/´you sure you okay?’ please ? like Reader and Morgan are official with the team and Christen realizes that she likes her too and like, Morgan loves someone else and both were in just to forget and try to move on. So Tobin and Christen go all in for the reader and happy ending ? buuuut drama/angst too if possible

warnings: Near death

words: 1666

(Y/N) POV

“Did you ever think that we would actually get a place together?”

I smiled at Morgan. It had been just over a year since the two of us officially met each other off of the field. So much so that our little meetups at each other’s places whenever we were in town turned into a date which led to another before we had started dating. Although we weren’t official to any of our teammates, I had proposed the idea of Morgan moving in with me and she gladly accepted.

“No,” I shook my head. Morgan was just supposed to be a distraction for me at the wedding. “I slept with you that first night because I needed a distraction from the fact that the woman I fell in love with was getting married.”

“I knew you were in love with Christen,” Morgan pointed at me. Morgan had asked me over and over again if I was in love with Christen but I always denied it. “You were a distraction for me as well.”

“Well, it looks like our distractions turned out to be something good.”

“Yeah, I guess they did.”

The two of us spent the day soaking in the fact that we had actually gotten a place together. We mostly spent the day talking and watching Netflix since Morgan was still behind on Supernatural. I was slightly surprised when I got a notification telling me that Morgan posted a picture on Instagram of me. I was even more surprised by the caption that practically told everyone that we were dating.

“Mo-”

“Look, I know we haven’t talked about coming out to the public, but I thought this would be the best time,” Morgan defended. She shrugged as she reached for a water out of the fridge. “Besides, we have a place together. I think that means we’re kind of serious.”

“I was gonna say, that if you would have told me, I would have had a post already on Instagram too.”

“Oh.”

I shook my head at her and my phone started to blow up with texts not only from my Utah teammates but also from my USWNT teammates. But I chose to ignore them as I sat my phone down and pulled Morgan closer to me.

“I just wanna be with you right now.”

I couldn’t help but notice that my phone lit up with a text message from the woman who I had fallen for what felt like so long ago now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe you cancelled your plans to take me on a hike,” Morgan shook her head.

“I wanted to do something special for you since we have officially been together for a year now,” I smiled at her. Morgan leaned over and gave my check a kiss.

I turned my attention back to the road. I knew that today was going to be the day. It was what I had been wanting to ask Morgan for so long.

“Hey, look at this,” Morgan lightly touched my arm before showing me her phone. 

I glanced at it to see some pictures from my last game. I shook my head at the one she was showing me because I did not look good in it as I had been so focused on getting the ball. I turned my attention back to the road to make sure that our light was still green.

The light was green. But as soon as I was in the intersection all I could feel was a pain to my left as my ears started to ring. I was able to glance at Morgan to see that she had slumped over in her seat. But that was the last thing I saw before everything had gone black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgan POV

“Here are her belongings, dear,” a nurse lightly touched my shoulder drawing my attention to her. 

I saw the bag that held everything that had been on (Y/N) at the time of the crash. I took the bag from her and gave a small smile. The nurse left me alone in the room with (Y/N) alone. 

The first thing I pulled out was (Y/N)’s phone. I wasn’t surprised to see how many missed calls and messages she had. I was sure that Alex and Kelley had been notified as soon as the hospital had gotten (Y/N)’s information since they were listed as her emergency contacts besides me. There was no doubt in my mind that they had informed the rest of the national team and all of the Royals.

I shook my head because I didn’t really feel up to answering calls and texts that would just remind me that (Y/N) was no were near the clear. I glanced at her lying in the bed before reaching out to grab her hand. I brought her hand up to my lips to give her a light kiss on the back of her hand.

“You have to be okay.”

I sat there holding her hand for a while before leaning back in the chair I was in. They told me that (Y/N) was lucky she didn’t die on impact after the truck ran a red light and hit us. I had already seen the pictures of the car and I knew that there was no way we were going to get it fixed. The driver’s side was smashed in on itself and the front of the car was in pieces. 

I reached back into the bag hoping that (Y/N)’s watch was there. I knew how much it meant to her since it was one of the last things she had gotten from her parents. I felt my fingers brush against something velvet causing me to furrow my brow in confusion. I pulled the watch out but also a velvet box. I softly sighed at the ring inside.

“You were gonna propose?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I looked up when there was a knock on the door. I was a little surprised when I saw Tobin and Christen in the doorway. I gave both of them a soft smile.

“Hey,” I softly said as the two came in.

“How is she?” Christen asked.

“Right now, she isn’t doing too great,” I sighed looking at (Y/N). The doctors weren’t sure how long she was going to be out. “They’re not sure when she’s going to wake up. Her, um, her heart stopped beating on the table. They said it could stop at any time and that I should be ready for that.”

“Oh, kid,” Tobin said as she pulled me into a hug. I couldn’t help the tears that fell from my eyes as I held her tightly. “It’s going to be okay. (Y/N)’s a fighter. She’s gonna get through this.”

Tobin pulled back from me before her eyes widened at the box that was sitting by me. I was thankful that she didn’t say anything about it. Christen had taken a seat on the other side of (Y/N)’s bed.

“Where are your keys?” Tobin asked. I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Morgan, I need your keys so I can get into your apartment to get you and (Y/N) some different clothes to wear. You have blood on your clothes and I’m sure that (Y/N)’s clothes are just the same.”

I nodded and quickly handed her my keys. I watched as she left before looking back at (Y/N). I glanced at the box.

“Tobin and I are getting a divorce,” Christen suddenly said. I looked at her in surprise. “We’ve been heading that way for a while. Tobin and I just make better friends than we do wives. That and I realized how much I love (Y/N).”

The two of us sat in silence. I just sat there processing what Christen had told me. I wasn’t an idiot either. I knew how (Y/N) felt.

“I don’t know why I just told you that when you’re the one dating (Y/N).”

“She still loves you,” I admitted. Christen looked over at me in surprise. I knew that (Y/N) tried to hide it, but I still knew that she loved Christen. “She tries to hide it and I do think that she loves me, I just don’t think she ever fell out of love with you.”

“She was in love with me?”

I was surprised Christen didn’t already know. I knew the night I had met (Y/N) that she was head over heels for Christen Press. Maybe I had just started to date (Y/N) because I needed a distraction from my own crush who would never love me back. 

“She’s been in love with you since before she broke her arm,” I told Christen. The older forward looked over at me in surprise. (Y/N) had told me about how she missed her chance to tell Christen Press that she was in love with her. “You really didn’t know?”

“No.”

Silence filled the room with us again as I looked at the box again. I reached out to grab it. As much as I wanted (Y/N) to ask me, I knew that I could never accept the ring.

“She was going to propose,” I said. Christen looked at me before looking at the box in my hands. “If this had never happened I probably would have told her yes.”

“You’re not going to?”

“You’re the one she’s always been in love with. I can’t ask her to marry me when she could be with the person she loves so much. When she wakes up, you guys should talk.”

I was taken by surprise when a monitor went off. I was even more surprised when a team of people rushed into the room pushing Christen and I back. We could both still see the heart monitor even as the team of nurses and the doctor surrounded (Y/N). We could see the line go flat.

“(Y/N)!”

[defensefilms]

Embiid, Sixers And Everything Else In A Wild NBA Post Season

1. Sixers And The Joys Of The 1 Seed

This is it.

This is what it’s all about. I can’t remember having this type of optimism about the Sixers during any post season. The 2018/19 Sixers were close but they didn’t validate that optimism the way this year’s team has as far as regular season performances.

These guys have done that and then some.

We’re no longer a team devoid of shooting or ball movement. We’re no questioning what our best line-ups are and who our best player is. We now have an experienced post season coach with the cache to make demands of these players.

This is the best any Sixer team has looked in any post season. We put the mollywhopping on the Wizards. From the head coach Doc Rivers, his staff and then all the way down to Shake Milton and Mike Scott off the bench, no one even entertained the idea that we weren’t going to sweep these guys.

Now we’re facing an obstinate Atlanta Hawks squad.  The Hawks have no way to stop Simmons or Embiid 1-on-1 but they got shooters for days and Trae Young’s averaging 27.7 points on 48.4% from the field. We need to put some respect on his name. Get the ball out of Trae’s hands because he was doing too much in game 1.

First there’s the fact that we’ve had our struggles defending elite scoring point guards this season. Then there’s the fact that Trae Young has done us dirty a few times before. The Hawks gave us hands in game 1 of the 2nd round. We we’re down early and didn’t get close to coming back until it was too late buts its far from curtains in this series. 

One thing that has definitely been of huge concern is the health of Joel Embiid.

How is it possible that a man tear his meniscus on May 31st and then drop 39 points, 9 boards and 4 assists in the playoffs on June 3rd? How? He can’t be healthy and I don’t know if it’s smart for his long term health to play right now. He was one of the bright sparks of the game. It’s not just this specific injury either.

This season has been hell on Embiid’s body. You have to wonder how much their gonna risk it or if the team are even halfway considering giving him a rest. Embiid spoke about managing his injuries after game 1 against the Hawks. Honestly doesn’t sound good. He’s talking about managing the swelling in his knee. This on top of ACL injuries sustained towards the end of the regular season. He’ll have had five days rest before game 2 so hopefully that helps remedy what is way more alarming than the Sixers front office is making it seem.

2. Lakers Flame Out

It’s been a dramatic season for the 2020/21 Lakers and typically speaking I don’t think that a team seeded so low are worthy of a list or breakdown like this but this is a special case. These Lakers are likely a way better team than seeding suggests.

Injuries to their 2 best players, saw the Lake-show lose number 1 seeding and then slide further down.

Roster-wise the Lakers tried their utmost to replace the production that they got out of Javale McGee and Dwight Howard. Marc Gasol just can’t be an active defender anymore and his inability to cover the perimeter and post at the same time became a huge issue. Montrezl Harrell has averaged 23.7 minutes off the bench and Dennis Schroder stretches the court as a shooter and a tertiary scorer but is more turnover prone than Rajon Rondo was.

The signing of Andre Drummond was a great idea and his rim protection and big body offense are valuable assets but he was never on the court with the team’s top stars long enough for any kind of chemistry to develop. 

The big issue is that as a team they are not the defensive powerhouse they were last year. The issue with that is that this team doesn’t have the kind of offensive scoring and 3-point shooting that can allow them to rely on blowing teams out the water and outscoring the opponents.

The signs were ominous from pretty early on but stop lying to yourself. More importantly, stop lying to the people. Don’t pretend you knew the Lakers would lose this series to the Phoenix Suns.

Anthony Davis has had his well covered and documented struggles with injuries throughout the season. As a an on looker, I gave the Lakers the benefit of the doubt every step of the way. I felt like we knew how this goes and the team with winning pedigree would get it together. LeBron’s injuries were something I felt he could overcome because he’s LeBron. It just never happened. That moment when Lebron takes over like he did against Boston in 2017, just never happened. 

I’m hesitant to say it’s over for LeBron or anything even remotely similar to that. However it might be a wrap for him in Los Angeles.  

3. Brooklyn Looking Nasty

Are the Brooklyn Nets Nasty or are they playing against a team that lacks versatility?

I’ve watched a lot of this team since 2017 and you know what I realized, that they’re a well oiled, championship caliber team until oppositions shut down the 4-out-1-in strategy. The meltdown they suffered in the 2018/19 post season against the Toronto Raptors was bad but still left room for optimism. The massacre they suffered against the Miami Heat in last year’s second round was a signal for change.

Yet I don’t feel there has been a lot of change. So the onus falls on Mike Budenholzer to come-up with a convincing second act to his game plan. Two games in to the 2nd round series against these Nets, Bud has failed spectacularly.

Then there’s the flipside of the coin, which I hope just isn’t true.

The Brooklyn Nets are looking untouchable. Kevin Durant is among my least favorite players but he’s killing it. The confidence he’s showing taking defenders off the dribble and pulling up is incredible and to be fair he’s always been really good at that. 

Durant slapped the Bucks up for 32 points, 4 rebounds and 6 assists in game 2 and then had one of the snidest post game interviews you’ll ever witness from an athlete. 

The hope here is that Giannis and the Bucks can get it together because we need someone to take some of the steam out of this Nets squad.

4. Kristapz Porzingis Hates Being A Mav

There is an absolutely hilarious 5 minute clip of Luka Doncic just refusing to pass the ball to Porzingis throughout the 2020/21 season. Click here and witness basketball comedy.  

Luka Doncic absolutely dominated in a losing effort against the Los Angeles Clippers in round 1. However it was clear that he was only going to push the Clippers and the only way to do better than that would be to take the pressure off of Luka and some one else to help carry the scoring. If only the Mavericks had a big man to compliment Luka, you know, a guy that can create his own shot and still be a mismatch when Luka forces bad switches and he finds himself guarded by smaller guys. Oh wait.

The world has finally taken notice of everything happening in Dallas and most importantly everything that’s not happening in Dallas. Luka’s growth and development is something for the organization to be proud of but this was supposed to be complimented by the growth of Kristapz Porzingis and that just isn’t happening. 

The word on the streets is that Porzingis is frustrated with his role on the Mavs and may seek a trade but after some of his performances in that round 1 series, I think the Mavs will have a hard time convincing anyone to take on his contract.

5. The West Can Call Itself Wild Again

This here is by far the most open Western Conference playoffs in over a decade, 

I don’t buy the hype about how the Western Conference teams are better and more competitive but the record is the record and it can’t be argued with.

No so this year.

The Lakers falling out of the race has definitely gifted us a conference where we just don’t know who is going to emerge as the representative in the finals. 

The Phoenix Suns have definitely racked up the most street cred by beating Lebron’s Lakers in 6. Devin Booker is simply awesome and I don’t say that as a fan of his. He average 29.7 points, 6.2 rebounds and 5.0 assists against the Lakers and they also overcame an injury scare to Chris Paul. They have a very interesting 2nd round series against the Denver Nuggets, who lost Jamal Murray to injury and found a way to keep winning and also overcame a near super human scoring output from Damian Lillard in round 1.

Then there’s the 1st seed Utah Jazz, who will go down in history as the most disrespected and underrated 1 seed in recent memory. They’ve been matched up against the Los Angeles Clippers who looked like they were reeling in the early part of their round 1 series against Luka Doncic and the Mavericks, then Kawhi and Paul George composed themselves and took the series in a thrilling 7 game series. The redemption story is definitely still in progress.

That’s 3 different 2nd round playoff match-ups that will probably provide a high quality of basketball. Well worth the watch.

[imaginesrus]

A Knock In The Night

Here it is my first Steve Harrington imagine, this has been a lot of fun to write and fun to get to try out a new style.

I have a few ideas for some other imagines but if you would like to send in a request to give a new writer in the fandom a go that would be awesome.

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, just pure fluffy goodness

Word Count: 1910

Summary: Your younger brother Dustin has managed to convince your parents to go for a road trip to Utah leaving you home alone without the usual gang hanging around. As you settle for a quiet night in, a knock at the door brings an unexpected and not necessarily unwelcome surprise.

The house was empty. 

Blissfully empty and quiet. 

After the last few weeks of Summer Break, the fire at Starcourt Mall, Dustin’s gang visiting most days having the house to yourself was a luxury you were going to enjoy full heartedly. A final chance to relax before you headed off for your first year of college. 

Your parents had taken Dustin to Salt Lake City for the week and you were almost certain Dustin’s eagerness to travel with them was due to proximity that he would be to Suzie. You had seen him looking at maps while packing, no doubt plotting some elaborate rendezvous at a secret location, by the moonlight of course. 

Ah, young love. 

You opened the cupboard, smiling to yourself that they were all still there, carefully selecting your snacks for an evening of uninterrupted reading and quite possibly passing out mid chapter in the lounge room. Since the Starcourt Mall incident your house had been full with Dustin and his friends, occupying the lounge watching scary movies on the new VHS player your dad had excitedly purchased last week. 

You grabbed a packet of Twizzlers from the cupboard, poured yourself a Coke and made your way back to the empty lounge, breathing in a deep sigh at the sheer peacefulness of it all. You collapsed on the sofa pulling out your book from behind your cushion and placed your drink and snack on the small table next to you. 

Opening your book to your marked chapter as your eyes began to flick across the words, losing yourself in the story of resurrected pets and Indian graveyards. 

A knock at the door, made you jump, the drink in your hand sloshing and splashing onto your top. 

‘Shit, shit,” you ran to the kitchen, blotting your top with the kitchen towel, while another, more urgent knock, sounded through the house again. Holding the towel to your chest, you moved cautiously to the front door.

Maybe reading Pet Cemetery while alone in your house was not quite your best idea yet. 

You looked around briefly for a weapon of some kind, your imagination in complete overdrive at this point. Deciding on an umbrella disused in the walkway, left over from winter long passed. 

You moved slowly to the window, moving the curtain just enough to be able to look at the front doorstep. Your heart stopping for an entirely different reason. 

Steve Harrington.

‘Fuck,’ you muttered under your breath as you dropped the umbrella to the side of the wall and opened the door, Steve’s hand raised again, poised for another knock. 

“Y/N,” he says, clearly surprised not to see his usual accomplice and instead his older sister. Surprise is quickly changed to concern as he notes the towel clutched to your chest “Are you okay?”

“What?” 

He gestures to the front of your top, “Yeah, I spilled some Coke.” You hadn’t yet quite met his eyes, flitting to the side instead. 

You weren’t sure exactly how this ‘friendship’ between your younger brother and Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington developed, but over the course of a weekend it seemed that they had become friends and this resulted in Steve being in your home not the uncommon event you would have thought it would be. 

And yet you still felt uncomfortable every time you are near him. 

“Is Dusty home?” he asks casually leaning against the door frame, craning his neck to look further into the home. 

“He’s gone with mom and dad, somehow he convinced them to a road trip to Utah.”

“Suzie,” Steve says with a smile. Almost like a proud parent. 

“Suzie,” you confirm. Still standing in the doorway, nervously shifting under his gaze. 

“I was hoping that maybe he would want to watch this with me?” Steve held up a copy of a VHS from the video store where he worked. You had visited the video store on numerous occasions usually dropping off Dustin and his friends to pick up a new movie. And there he would be again. It had seemed that for most of this summer you hadn’t been able to escape him and here he was again. 

You examined the video in his hand, “Cujo?”

“Yeah, I mean I was going to watch with him of course, parental supervision and all.” Steve quickly explains as you raise an eyebrow at his choice of movie. 

“Well, Dustin’s not here so-” 

“Right,” Steve gives a nod and you see the disappointment written all over his face. As much as you may hate to admit it your brother and Steve had developed a friendship that had you questioning some of the long formed opinions you had about Steve Harrington. 

You give a shrug of your shoulders, an attempt at cool and casual, “I’m just reading, if you wanted to watch it here. I wouldn’t mind.” 

Which was a lie, because you very much would mind. The sensible decision would be to send Steve back to his car and on his merry way, but you opened the door wider allowing him to enter. 

“You know where the player is,” you said closing the door behind him, “I’m just going to change,” you pointed to your shirt and made your way to your room. 

You closed the bedroom door behind you, pulling off your shirt and digging around your drawer for another. Deliberating between two before reaching a decision. You were all alone in your house with Steve Harrington. You stared at yourself in the mirror, pushing your hair behind your ears before taking a deep. You were just two people watching a movie in the same house, that was all it was. You wouldn’t even been watching the movie. You felt sorry for him, that was all this was. 

You had started sitting at the furthest corner of the couch, intent on focusing on your book, but eventually found yourself distracted by the TV and placing the book back to it’s safe spot under your cushion. Gradually edging closer to the middle of the couch, closer to Steve who was engrossed. 

Your gaze drifted from the movie, to the way the light moved across his face, highlighting his lips, and of course that hair. 

You considered the pack of Twizzlers on your lap, moving closer still and holding the pack between the two of you, a peace offering of sorts. As Steve was focused on the screen in front you tapped the packet gently on his arm, managing to gain his attention. 

He moved to take one, a small smile, before focusing on the screen again. You moved closer as you kept the packet between you, chewing on the Twizzler as you focused on the screen. The two of you engrossed, as you passed the packet between you. Neither one speaking, despite the occasional gasp, or ooh in response to the movie. 

His hand brushed against yours as you handed the packet back and you paused your movements, holding your breath as he did the same. A tension settling over both of you as your eyes focused intently on the screen. Not game enough to see his reaction. 

“Popcorn,” you shouted unexpectedly, earning a jump from Steve. “I’m going to make some.” You quickly got up and moved to the kitchen, muttering to yourself about how exactly you had gotten yourself into this situation. 

You placed the popcorn on the stove, trying to focus on the steps instead of the boy leaning casually against your kitchen bench, watching as you fiddled with the gas. 

“I was an asshole in high school,” he says breaking the silence. Memories of yourself with him in a closet with at Shellie Marino’s 16th birthday party during a game of seven minutes in heaven come flooding back, followed by the teasing, the jibes, cruel words from her peers that he didn’t dispute.  

“No argument here,” you mutter under your breath. 

“But I’m not the same person, things have happened that made me realise that the things I thought were important in high school weren’t. Being popular, being cool, even the hair,” he added with a chuckle. 

“Blasphemy,” you added. 

“I can see why you would be worried about the guy that I was in high school hanging out with your kid brother, I get it. But Dustin is a really cool kid, and for his age kind of wise.” 

“Well don’t you go telling him that. Since that Camp Know Where he has a big enough head as it is.”

“So-”

“So-”

“Truce,” Steve said holding out his hand towards you. 

“Truce,” you agree taking his hand in your own and giving it a firm shake. The sound of the first pop of popcorn had you shrieking, tightening your grip automatically as he does the same, before both dissolving into giggles as he helped you to finish popping the corn before he returned to the couch and you grabbed another treat from the cupboard. 

Taking a seat on the couch next to him, closer than before you leaned over and poured the full box of Milk Duds over the popcorn in the large bowl resting on his lap. 

“Oh God, not you too.” Steve groaned.

“It’s good,” you protest, grabbing a handful and eating them, the mixture of sweet, salty, butter and chocolate covering your tongue in the most wonderful of combinations. 

Steve does the same, his cheeks puffing out slightly as he quite clearly has overestimated just how much food his mouth can hold. 

He almost chokes, before he manages to chew and swallow, while you try to suppress a fit of laughter behind you hand. 

After several minutes, and a large gulp, Steve manages a muffled, “It’s good.”

“Right? You owe Dustin an apology.” You say as you press play on the remote, settling back into the couch as the movie starts up again. 

A silence takes over the room again as the movie plays. You try not to pay attention to the way your hands keep brushing against each others, as you both reach for the popcorn between you. 

The intensity of the film grows and you find yourself leaning closer and closer, your shoulders touching, the bowl empty of the coffee table. And then on the screen the dog crashes through the window. 

“Oh my god!,” you shriek, as Steve’s hand wraps around your own, and on instinct you are turning into his chest, hiding from the imaginary monster on the screen. You shield your eyes from the screen, your hand gripping Steve’s shirt as the final scene plays and you can finally relax. Your breathing returns to normal and as the credits role you notice his arm around your shoulder, holding you steady. 

You look up at him.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says softly, “okay?” The concern in his eyes takes you by surprise there is no alterior motive behind the question, just a genuineness that you didn’t expect. 

“It was just a little intense.” The movie is over, the imaginary threat is gone and really you should be unwrapping his arms from around you and wishing him a good night, but instead you find yourself wanting him to stay. 

“I know this sounds ridiculous, cause it’s just a movie, but-,” you can’t even meet his eyes as you ask, “could you stay?”

He gives you a smile, a genuine one, “I’ll take the couch.”

Turns out maybe Steve Harrington isn’t quite so bad after all. 

[galadrieljones]

That he may hold me by the hand - Chapter 11

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Albert Mason  

Rating: Mature (Adult Themes and Situations, Violence, and Sexual Content)

Summary: After saving Albert from stumbling off a cliff in the Heartlands, Arthur invites him to Valentine for a drink. What ensues after that is a quiet love story, in which both men find themselves completely undone.

Masterpost | AO3 | Epigraph

Chapter 11: You have eased my strife, Mr. Mason.

“When I was about fourteen,” said Arthur, taking a drag off the hash cigarette, “I got in a bind with some fellers in Jackson, Wyoming. It was a rough place, but you could make a living there in a lot of ways. I made mine in cards.”

“What kind of cards?” said Albert. Arthur passed him the cigarette. They were in the sheets, undressed, smoking, drinking whiskey, soaking in the light of the Chinese lanterns. They’d never gone back down to the bar that night, after the gallery opening.

“Blackjack,” said Arthur, exhaling a lungful of smoke. “Poker, too. I wrangled on a couple ranches for a while before that, but the take wasn’t half as good, and the working conditions—well let’s just say I was starving. My pa, for whatever he was nor wasn’t, before he died, had a method for counting cards and memorization, calculating odds and such, which he taught me, when I was nine or ten. From this, I knew how to cheat multiple games in such ways that could not be detected, and given my age and general disposition, it was easy for me to hustle money out of men, particularly those with drinking habits and…unhealthy predilections toward gambling.”

“That sounds incredibly difficult,” said Albert, “and dangerous, given how young you were. Jesus, Arthur.”

“As long as I kept my head down and did not get too greedy, I rarely got anything worse than a smack in the back of the head,” said Arthur, laughing to himself. “I made enough to buy myself a room above the tavern where I most liked to play. The bartender’s wife looked out for me, which was a godsend, let me eat one meal a day for free. And I just remember—I was so glad to be out of the Tetons. They was ravaging my soul, and my body. I was skin and bones back then.”

“What happened,” said Albert. “With the men, the bind.”

“Oh,” said Arthur. “Right. I got greedy one night. It weren’t smart, took too much. A couple men, they had ten years on me and about seventy-five pounds each, they jumped me after a game. One of them was fixed to kill me with a broken bottle. I was in the alley, just takin a piss. I still remember the full moon, overhead, as one of the guys sucker-punched me from behind. You know I didn't stand a chance. But then a couple other fellers—Dutch and Hosea, that is the night I met them. They came around the corner with their pistols, scared off the riffraff. They hauled me off the ground, took me back to their camp, cleaned me up. They had a reverend with them, and a woman, and she fed me and doted on me till I came to, mentally. It was…terrifying at first. I had no idea what they wanted with me. Turns out they was just helping. I was a bird on the wire. I didn’t know no better. They made me one of them, and we lived pretty hard, but it was not for lack of all comfort. We left Jackson and went south to Colorado, running the boomtowns down there for many years. Then we went on east, north, into the Dakotas and made a run through Chicago. That weren’t for us, but Hosea had business partners there, made a bunch of money on a real estate scam before we split, and that is also where we picked up John.”

Albert was listening intently. He asked many questions that night. “How old was John when you found him?”

“Weren’t more than twelve,” said Arthur. “I was 21. He was so small, I remember. I grew fast as a boy. I was skinny, but I was always tall, even from the time I was a kid, and it’s harder for people to mess with you when you’re tall. You just tend to get more respect. But John grew late. He was just tiny, till he was an older teenager. That day we came upon him, some farmers had been making to hang him outside the city. He’d been stealing their hogs, some grain, but hanging a kid? That didn't sit too well with Dutch. When we picked him up and brought him back, he was mute for a while. We thought maybe…maybe something had happened. Like that he’d hit his head, or something. But eventually he woke up and started terrorizing everybody, everything. He was angry all the time, getting us into trouble with locals, the law. When he finally started to hit manhood, we was back in Utah. I taught him to box, made him shut the fuck up a little, focus. I don’t know, I guess some men need that kind of discipline.”

“What about you?”

“I was taught young to shut the fuck up,” said Arthur, smoking. “My pa, he didn’t really take no lip. Especially not after my mother died.” He looked at Albert, smiled. It was all okay. He wasn’t looking for sympathy or validation. He was just talking. Albert understood this by now. He said, “What about you, Mr. Mason. Are you a disciplined man?”

Albert found this amusing. He looked down at the joint and shrugged. “At times,” he said. “It would depend on what you call disciplined. What do you think?”

“I think you are,” said Arthur, studying him. “In your core, you’re pretty hard to shake from the rails. Steadfast. Even if you are a little frantic around the edges. I ain’t gonna forget the first time we met, wrangling your bag back from that thieving coyote. Or how you almost died that day we went to Valentine, showing off on a goddam cliff.”

Albert laughed. “Yes, well. You made me nervous.”

“Did I?”

“In a way,” said Albert. He reached for his whiskey on the bedside table. He finished it in a single swallow. Then he studied the glass as if he had not held it in a while, or had forgotten what it looked like.

“Did you know?” said Arthur, curious. “I mean, from that first day, in West Elizabeth. Or the wolves in the Heartlands. Them horses, up in the marsh, near the oil fields. Did you know? Did you feel anything?”

“I knew I wanted to see you,” said Albert. “When I would camp, or come back here or stay in a hotel alone. I thought about the next time I might see you. Occasionally, I looked for you, in a sort of, casual way. I kept my eyes open. Whenever you showed up, I am sure I did a wonderful job of feigning my surprise, but I was genuinely relieved. I always felt the chemistry, between us. I just didn’t really know what it was.”

“When did you realize?” said Arthur, smoking down the cigarette. It crackled and burnt off at the end. He put it out in an ashtray on the bedside table. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Not at all.” Albert was looking down at the sheets, which were soft and luxurious, a rich burgundy red. He was recalling. “I think, when we went to Big Valley.” He looked up, right at Arthur. “I was sick. Do you remember?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I thought I was going crazy,” he said, shaking his head, almost like he was talking to himself. “You were so calm in the face of all that nature. Everything about it was sublime. Then, our fingers—they touched, that night, when you passed me a cigarette. Or perhaps I was passing one to you. I'm not sure, but we touched. It hit me then. Struck me like lightning, I suppose. I felt like an idiot, like a school boy. I didn’t come into clarity, not really, until a couple weeks later, when we kissed in the marsh. After that, I was finished.”

Arthur studied his own whiskey glass, still full. From below, you could still hear the people in the tavern, a low, humming delirium. “I think I knew sooner than that,” said Arthur. He took a long drink, exhaled sharply. “That night, after we went to Valentine. I couldn’t get you out of my head. You were all I thought about, for weeks. Of course, it was confusing, but I hadn’t felt anything—not anything, in so long. I couldn’t help it. It was loud inside me, like a drum. By the time we got to Big Valley, I had been working to push it down for fear I was out of my league. Of course, it bubbled up again, came to a head in the marsh. Unlike you, I ain’t so good at putting words on things.”

“You’re quite good with words, Arthur. Give yourself a break.”

Arthur waved him off. “Anyway. You know, two men together ain’t that uncommon on the prairie. Dutch and Hosea, I know they’ve taken…comfort in one another over the years. Women can be scarce, living like we do. Sometimes, they die tragically.” He looked right at Albert, his dark, soft eyes. “But that’s on the prairie. In the eyes of societal living, I ain’t sure what we got is gonna earn you many points, Mr. Mason.”

“If I wanted societal living, I would go back to Philadelphia,” said Albert.

“What about your mother,” said Arthur. “You said she knows about me. Everything, the whole truth?”

“Yes,” said Albert. “The whole truth.”

Arthur took a deep breath. He glanced toward the window, the Chinese lanterns glowing softly against the cityscape outside. “You don’t want children, a family?”

Albert could sense some growing insecurity then, inside of Arthur. They had never talked about this before, so it was not unexpected. He placed his hand on Arthur’s shoulder so Arthur would look at him. “The goal is not one thing or the other,” he said. “Why? Are you worried? Is that something you want?”

Arthur smiled, sort of weary, like he’d been had. He said, “I’ve already had that, Mr. Mason.”

“What?”

“I just didn’t get that far yet in my sob story. I’m sorry, Albert.”

Albert was very surprised. He straightened up off the pillow, set down his glass. “I see,” he said, the hair pushed off his face, getting longer by the week. “It’s just that you never mentioned. You have children, a child?”

Arthur cleared his throat. "I did," he said. He seemed unaware of how to hold his hands. He laced them together and gazed down upon them. He took a deep breath. “I'm sorry. I just don't talk about it a lot."

"It's okay."

"It all happened in Montana," said Arthur. “Butte—silver mining town. The girl I met, her daddy was a foreman in one of the mines. She was a waitress at a tavern in the town, and we had…a relationship. One summer. I was about twenty-three. She was nineteen.”

“What happened?”

“A mistake,” said Arthur. “I got her pregnant, like a derelict, couldn’t stick around past September because the law was on my ass. We rode out. I went back a lot of times to see her, and after she had the baby, to see him, too. She let me come back, let me stay with them. She didn’t blame me, nor hate me, nor ask no questions. It was okay. I did my best to do right by her. I brought her as much money as I could every couple months. I just—the boy, he made my life different, for a while. Changed me.” He blinked. He looked away as if ashamed. “One day, ten years ago, I went back there for his fourth birthday. I had bought him a kite. But when I got to the house, they wasn’t inside. They was buried out back, in the ground, under a tree.” He closed his eyes in collection of his faculties. He stonewalled his heart, opened them back up again, then he opened one of his hands to pick at a callus on his palm. “Turns out her daddy owed some money to an outlaw gang that can’t be trusted. They sent a couple men over to her, like a threat. Killed her and the boy, stole her jewelry box. Probably had ten dollars worth of silver inside. I was a week too late.”

Far away downstairs, a woman laughed, loud and lovely, as if inside a memory. Albert stared at him, unable to speak at first. “What were their names?” he said, eventually.

“Eliza James,” said Arthur. He lit a cigarette, smoked it, hung his head. “And Isaac.”

There are times when the air goes out—of talking, of the room. It is still and silent, like floating toward the sun. Unsure of what to do now, Albert put his hand firmly on the back of Arthur’s neck. He sort of tugged him forward until Arthur looked at him, really looked. His eyes were dry and very blue. Albert kissed him, soft at first, then harder, on the mouth until Arthur’s body gave. He tossed the cigarette and pushed his hands up Albert’s bare back. They parted. Albert touched his forehead to Arthur’s and closed his eyes and said softly, “I’m sorry, dear friend.” He had one hand in Arthur's hair, gripped tightly. "Like so much else in your life, that is not something you deserve. I want to—fix it. That is selfish, even to think, I know. I am so sorry."

Arthur seemed relieved, to be honest. Mostly, he was just glad to be rid of the tale. He was always revitalized by Albert's calm talking. “It’s okay, Mr. Mason," he said. "It has been many years. I have dealt with it, and I’m okay. Thank you, though. And you ain't selfish.”

They sat for a while. Even with the emotional gravity of the conversation, the kiss had come spontaneously, leaving them both now hard beneath the sheets, and agitated. Albert asked Arthur what he wanted to do, and as was Arthur’s tendency, he didn’t say much. He studied Albert, that was all, and then he placed his mouth on the soft of Albert’s neck and kissed him. The motion was slow and revealing, pried the moment back open, as he pushed Albert back against the pillow. He was feeling a lot of things and the only thing he wanted to do at this point was to yield. He drug his lips down past Albert’s throat, the dip of his chest, all the way to the base of his cock, which he proceeded to wet generously with his mouth. He then climbed back up to the top of the bed to look Albert in the eye as he worked him in firm strokes, up and down, growing in his intensity until Albert closed his eyes, his head tipped back, and with a low moan, he came. It was very little, as they had already gone once earlier that night, but as Arthur knew, no less pleasurable. He cleaned the spend off Albert’s stomach with his mouth, kissed him and left him limp there, got up to pour more whiskey, which he stood drinking, stark naked in the light from the Chinese lanterns, beside the purple velvet couches near the french doors.

He was very pleased with himself.

“Come back over here,” said Albert, as a lump on the bed. Everything on that bed was expensive, and fine, Albert included. Arthur was no longer tired.

“I’m good,” said Arthur, smiling, sipping. “Why don’t you come over here.”

“I can’t rightly move at the moment.”

“I’ll wait.”

Sometime later, they were dressed in soft clothes and sitting on the velvet sofa, leaning on each other. Arthur was sketching—just something dumb. One of the women he remembered from the gallery opening. She had been wearing a hat that looked like a peacock. Albert had his eyes open, looking at the ceiling, which included a hand-painted silver gilt. The design was Spanish. He recognized it from an art history class he had taken at Haverford years before.

“It’s pretty late,” said Arthur, glancing at the clock on the table. “Almost one.”

“I’ve nothing to do tomorrow. Do you?”

“Not a thing,” said Arthur.

They sat for a while longer, listening to the sounds of the piano and the people from the tavern. John and Mary Beth were still down there, with Josiah, getting into god knows what. They’d rented rooms for the night and intended to see it through till morning.

“You thought at all about the opening?” said Arthur. “You think it went well?”

“I do,” said Albert. He sat up, looked around. “Are we all out of hash?”

Arthur nodded to the cigar box on the table.

“You know, I was the envy of everyone at that party tonight.”

Arthur glanced up from his drawing. “How do you mean?”

Albert opened the cigar box, a beautiful piece of timber, hand-carved, from Cuba. He withdrew two cigarettes���lit one for himself, offered the other to Arthur. Arthur declined, so Albert tucked the spare behind his ear and settled back into the chair, smoked with his eyes closed. “The way you look, the way you seem.”

“I look like I rob banks for a living,” said Arthur, continuing to sketch, the round of the feathers in the woman's hat, “which, I do, by the way. Or, did.”

“Sure. But to them, you are a symbol,” said Albert. “Of something authentic, something true, from the past. Maybe you’ve robbed banks, but don’t underestimate your appeal to people like that.”

“People like what.”

“People who have been hermetically sealed inside the safety bubble of their social class. They are unable to fully understand the kind of truth you represent.” He took a long drag, exhaled.

“Do you think that bugs them?”

“No,” said Albert. “Or, sort of. It enchants them. You enchant them. They would like to understand, more than anything, but they are afraid.”

“Of me?”

“Well, yes,” said Albert, smiling to himself. “And the truth, in general. That is why they buy art. To be as close to the truth as possible without ever actually having to live it.”

“And what about you,” said Arthur, grinning. He liked Albert’s anthropological musings on his own kind. He thought it a strength most lacked.

“I’m an artist,” said Albert, performative. “By rule of nature, I get to do more. I move in and out of the truth. I have access to the path. And I have you on the other side, to inspire me…my muse, and they envy me for it.” He smiled, very knowing, set down the glass on the bedside table. “I’m very lucky.”

“Muses are supposed to be naked women,” said Arthur. “Not overworked outlaws.”

Albert lit the cigarette and smoked. “Naked, overworked outlaws work just fine.”

“If you would like to photograph me without my clothes, Mr. Mason, you missed your chance. I am dressed for the evening.”

“Perhaps another time,” he said.

“Maybe when we get out west,” said Arthur, lighting his own cigarette now, shaking out the match and closing his journal. “How’s that sound?”

Albert smiled at him, lazily. His eyes had begun to droop and glaze over with the smoke. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“What do you mean, he’s not coming back?” said Dutch.

He and Hosea were sitting in the gazebo. It was deep night, and the swamps seemed to glow green on the horizon, as if the waters were poisoned. Back by the fire, Javier was playing his guitar. It was a sad song, and Karen could be heard singing along at sweetly drunken intervals.

“I mean that we should expect we may not see him again," said Hosea. "Arthur’s life has grown complicated outside the gang, Dutch. Complicated.”

“In what way?”

“He’s met somebody.”

“Who?” said Dutch. He had been smoking a cigar, but it was cold now between his fingers. “Who has he met.”

“Somebody,” said Hosea.

Overhead, the moon was like a bright socket. Dutch was not angry. He was confused, thought Hosea. He was very confused, looking upon the night as if pained beyond imagining. It was a mixture of his regular drama, and his selfishness. He was a narcissist. Everybody knew. Hosea best of all. But the redeeming thing about Dutch was, that when he wanted to be, he was a good man. He was a caretaker, and merciful. But this was a difficult side of him to coax at times, especially when the night was dark and the future unclear. “Hosea," he said, on and on. "Arthur won’t leave the gang for a woman. That kind of trust in God’s fair creation ain’t in his bones no more. Frankly, I’m surprised you would even think so.” Dutch went to smoke the cigar, but seeing as it was no longer lit, this pissed him off. He tossed it away. "A goddam woman."

Hosea felt something rattling around in his lungs, coughed some into his sleeve. He glanced out past the gazebo wall to where he saw Mary Beth sitting on the ground, surrounded by the vast perimeter of her skirts, feeding dinner scraps to the dog. Hosea was not prepared to tell Dutch about Arthur and the photographer. It was not his place to do so. “Just take my word on this one, Dutch. Will you, please? Let’s just let this one go. You and me. We don't need him. We got a lot of good guns left. We don't need him, not anymore.”

Dutch looked at Hosea as if he did not recognize his face. “How can you be so cavalier about this, Hosea? He’s our partner. He’s been with us for twenty-two years.”

Hosea stared at Dutch and then past Dutch. It was like looking at a black hole. How many years had gone by since he had last felt love long and hard enough to pluck him from the life? Love is what kept him in the life. It is what he supposed was meant to be, for him. It was how he had lost Bessie. Arthur was his own man, struggling with his own lifelong surge of joy and pain, laughter and sadness. Hosea shrugged. He looked at Dutch and he felt resigned. “Because it is time," he said. "It's just time."

[meetmeinthematinee]

Rookie

This took me A MONTH to write but to whomever asked me for it -- it’s finally here! The Johnny Utah fic I promised. 

18+, The NSFW bit is at the very end.  WARNING: Allusions to previous sexual harassment.

“Come on Utah. A teller? I thought I left all that bullshit behind when I left the PD.” You drained the last of your coffee and threw it in the trash. “You’re pulling this because you think I can’t handle being undercover aren’t you!” “That’s Agent Utah, rookie.” He slammed his coffee down on his desk. “Fuck!” He was furious. You'd seen this type before. The handsome, cocky asshole who would go apeshit the minute they were questioned -- especially by a woman. The boys in the PD were hard on you. The guys at Quantico weren't much better. To say you'd gotten used to having to prove yourself was the understatement of the year. Utah leaned in, spreading his hands wide on his desk. Bringing his face closer to yours. You clenched your jaw and looked back at him without flinching. “So, no one told you about what happened to my last partner? Why you’re my new one, huh? Well, he’s dead. The ex-presidents left him looking like a piece of swiss cheese. This isn't because of some bullshit about you being a woman. I don’t give a fuck about that, you hear me?” The rage behind your eyes died down. You had heard some rumours but didn’t know the whole story. “I'm sorry about your partner.” He dropped his head and looked down at his desk and nodded slightly. Registering your condolences. When he spoke again his tone was less sharp but only slightly so. “Listen, you're new. I don't want to have to train somebody else in the middle of a goddamn operation got it, kid?” You rolled your eyes. “We're the same age, Agent. Utah.” “Christ. You're going to be a real pain in the ass aren't you.” He slapped his hands against his desk and walked away. Shaking his head. You glared after him. Not quite knowing what to make of him. He’d surprised you -- you really thought he was the arrogant sexist prick type -- but maybe you were too hasty. Still, you were on guard. Your experiences taught you that. “ROOKIE! Are you coming or not?” His yell snapped you out of your musing and you hopped out of your chair and followed. 

After a long day of meetings with the bank and some recon work it was finally settled. An ad would go into the paper looking for a new teller. You’d go through the fake interview process and be hired on at the branch that was suspected to be next on the hit list. Johnny -- er -- Agent Utah was already deeply embedded into the crew so you’d work the case from either side to bring them to justice. 

After a few weeks you fell into your new routine at the bank. The hardest part was having to be friendly and perky all through your shifts. You’d meet up with Agent Utah to debrief at the beach -- both of you taking great pains to be sure you hadn’t been followed. “Did you come straight from work?” “Yeah. Why?” “You look kind of out of place, don’t you think?” He teased. “Maybe I swim wearing nylons, pumps and a pencil skirt.” He laughed. “I guess those shoulder pads could be a floatation device” You shot him a sharp look. “Since we’re kind of off the clock next time I’ll bring my suit. Like, totally man. We’ll catch some gnarly waves dude.” You did your best impression of a surfer. He scoffed and shook his head. You could see he was smiling to himself though. “Don’t make threats you can’t back up rookie.” “Who said it was a threat? It was more like an exploratory offer, Agent Utah.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise and you could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Johnny. You can call me Johnny.” “You’re going to keep calling me rookie aren’t you.” He smirked and shot you a sidelong glance. “Yep.”

You started to look forward to your meet ups on the beach. True to your offer you did turn up in your suit the next time. And every time after that. You’d never surfed before but he was game to show you. It was hard not to notice how strong and lithe he was pulling himself through the water. You idly wondered what it would feel like to be underneath him. His arms on either side of you. You quashed those thoughts pretty quickly, knowing they would only lead to trouble. Mostly you spent your time with him falling off the board or sitting on it in the water but eventually you were able to stand and ride “the smallest wave I’ve ever seen, that was a ripple, really” according to Johnny. A few times you caught him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. The minute you’d move even an inch he’d stare out into the surf again. Something was there between you. Though, neither one of you spent long enough thinking about it to figure out what it even was. Attraction? Friendship? It was something that went far beyond professional courtesy. That was for sure. Above all you were cautious. He'd proven himself to not be like those other cops you'd worked with -- or even like the hot-headed dipshits at the academy who were always looking for a way to cut you down or fuck you or both. "Rookie!" "Hmm?" "I was asking if you wanted to get some food." "Oh! Sorry, I was" "Thinking? Yeah, I got that." He pulled himself up off the sand and extended his hand with a smile. "I could eat." You said, laughing and waving his hand away. "Alright, let's go. It's not far from here." 

He was already inside the diner when you arrived. He’d snagged a booth near the back. You slid into the seat across from him and snatched up a menu. “Being in the water makes me so hungry! What’s good here Johnny?” The corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile before he broke into a grin. “The burgers are good.” “They do milkshakes?” “It’s a diner rookie, what do you think?” You swatted his hands with the menu. “Smartass.” 

“He is, isn’t he?” The server smiled. “What can I get for you hun?” “I’d like a strawberry shake and a cheeseburger, please.” “And for the smartass?” “Hey! Just for that I’m not tipping this time.” “Sure, Johnny.” “I’ll have a chocolate shake, burger with the works and fries, please.” 

You pressed your lips together to suppress the laugh that was threatening to burst out. He just shook his head at you. 

The server set down your shakes. “Strawberry.” He lifted a brow and leaned forward in his seat. “And?” You took a long sip from your shake. “You’re just. You keep surprising me, rookie.” “Oh, you mean I’m not a stuck up bitch?” His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open a little. “That’s not what I meant at all.” He shook his head. His eyebrows drawn together in concern. “You’ve really been through it on your way to the FBI haven’t you.” “Yes.” You said tersely as you concentrated on swirling the straw around in your milkshake. As if it was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. He sensed your discomfort but pressed on. “I’m not even going to pretend I know what that must have been like for you. I just need you to know that we’re partners. I have your back and I trust you.” You nodded and wound your hand around the back of your neck. Stretching out the tension you felt there. Not knowing what to say. The server set down your food. You impishly snatched a fry from his basket and gestured towards him with it. “I trust you too Johnny. I really do.” 

He’d been MIA since that night at the diner. It unnerved you -- and worried you in a way you hadn’t expected. You couldn’t stop thinking about him -- the way he carefully listened when you finally opened up and talked about just how traumatic your time with the PD was. Why you left. He didn’t look at you with pity like you feared. He didn’t react with rage, he just listened and seemed to know that’s all you really wanted. To be heard. Understood. You stayed until late into the night. Neither one of you wanting to leave or having to make the decision to leave alone. That was 5 days ago now. 

Your doorbell rang at 12:30am -- just as you were about to collapse into bed for the night. You scrambled for your gun. Walked cautiously to the door and you heard a knock. “Rookie! It’s me!” You cracked your door and when you saw it was really him and lowering your gun you let him into your house. “I guess you aren’t happy to see me.” He said playfully, eying your weapon. You just shook your head. “Johnny.” “I’m really sorry to bust in on your like this. They’ve been holed up planning their next heist for days now. I haven’t been able to get away until now.” Since it was late and you were tired you didn’t have your normal guard up. You opened the door fully and invited him in “I was really worried about you.” The tenderness in your voice surprised him. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to you. Sliding his hand from your shoulder, down your arm -- coming to rest at your elbow. “You were worried about me?” You tilted your head to the side. Sheepishly, shyly. “Yeah.” You dropped your gaze to his feet. “I missed you.” Suddenly he was pulling you against him. Wrapping his arms tightly around you. Neither one of you saying anything for a long while. “I missed you too.” You nuzzled your face into his neck. His hand resting on the back of your head. Cradling you against him. "Hey do yo--" He leaned down and pressed his lips softly against yours. You tightened your grip on his back and leaned into the kiss. His lips were soft but slightly dry from his time in the sun and the ocean. He smelled like salt and sunblock. You opened your mouth to his and slid your tongue against his. You hummed contentedly against his mouth. He pulled away. Gazing at you with his lips parted. A soft smile forming. He said your name quietly, almost reverently as he stroked his thumb across your cheek. "Oh, so it's not Rookie anymore?" Leaning into his touch and smiling coyly. "It is when we're on the clock. But…" He grinned widely at you. 

You rolled your eyes and returned his smile, gesturing to your couch. "Make yourself at home. Do you want a beer or something?" "That'd be great! Thanks." You nodded and made your way to the kitchen. Grabbing a couple of cold ones out of the fridge. “You want a glass?” “No, I’m fine with the bottle.” He’d joined you in the kitchen without you realizing it, startling you. “You’re a jumpy one, huh?” His fingers brushed against yours as he took the beer from you. You jumped a little at the contact and he set his beer down on the counter. “Are you alright? I didn’t overstep did I?” His eyebrows were drawn together with concern. You leaned against the kitchen counter and took a sip of your beer. Enjoying the feeling of the cool liquid sliding down your throat. “No, you didn’t.” You said, smiling and looking sheepishly away from him. His face relaxed and he let out a small puff of air. As if he’d been holding his breath waiting for your answer. He took a big swig from the bottle and then shot you a lopsided grin. You reached out a hand and laced your fingers with his, pulling him back towards the living room.  

You leaned against each other on the couch, his arm around your shoulder, your arm slung behind his back. He was telling you all about the gangs pre-heist prep. How violent they were. How they were fully prepared to kill ALL of the hostages. If needed. Or even, for fun. “Jesus, Johnny.” “Yeah. Just. Promise me that you’ll be careful. You’re a great agent -- but these guys are out for blood and I don’t want it to be yours.” You leaned your head against his chest. “Ditto.”

“I’d better go. It’s late.” You leaned back and looked at him. “You don’t have to…” He looked a little surprised but pulled you in tight against his chest and leaned his cheek against the top of your head. “Are you asking me to stay?” You bit your lip. It was hard for you to be vulnerable. But it was worth it, you thought. He was worth it. “Yes. I’m asking you to stay, if you want to. I want you to.” “I want to.” 

Grabbing his hand you tugged him toward your bedroom. Pointing out where the bathroom was along the way. You stopped at the foot of the bed and he rested his hands on your hips as your fingers toyed nervously with the hem of his shirt. His eyes dropped to your lips as he pulled you against him. Slowly leaning his head down. Moving until his lips were softly on your cheek. Then your temple, the corner of your mouth, until his lips were on yours again. You slid your hands up under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palms. Lifting his shirt higher as your kisses deepened and he moaned contentedly as your hands brushed over his chest. Pulling away from each other he lifted off his shirt and you did the same. You’d both seen each other out on the beach in as much clothing as you had on now but this was different. You shimmied out of your shorts and crawled into bed. He stood there for a moment. “What?” You asked almost shyly. “You’re so beautiful.” 

He slid under the covers and trailed his fingers down your side. You shivered under his touch and leaned in to capture his lips with yours. He cupped your breast as you slid your tongue into his mouth. “Johnny.” You whispered as his fingers found how wet you were. Arching into his touch. He moaned as you gripped his hardened length. Pumping your hand up and down slowly, teasingly. Suddenly he was pulling away from you. Pushing himself face first between your thighs. His tongue snaking between your folds. Lapping at the wetness there. His nose nudging against your clit as he worked his tongue into you. Your hands tangled into his hair and you could barely stop yourself from rutting against his face. “Oh God!” You cried out as he slid two fingers deep into your cunt and worked your clit expertly with his tongue. He moaned loudly as his fingers sank into you. “Don’t stop! Just like that!” You managed to gasp out as you felt yourself climbing towards that peak. He kept going, curling his fingers rhythmically against your gspot while circling your clit with his tongue. He kept going even as you came undone with a series of deep guttural moans, only stopping when you pulled his face away from you by his hair. He grinned widely, his face glistening in the low light. “Sorry, you just taste so good. I didn’t want to stop.” He leaned in and kissed you. Tasting yourself on his lips made you want him even more. “Please.” You murmured against his mouth. “Please what, baby?” He asked before licking a stripe up your neck and gently taking your earlobe between his teeth. “Johnny, please.” 

You threw your arm out and rummaged through your nightstand drawer. Pulling out a condom and pressing it into his hand. He took it from you and knelt between your legs. Quickly rolling the condom down onto his hard cock, smiling, almost to himself. He leaned down over you and pushed slowly against you. Gasping as his cock was enveloped by your wet heat. He took his time, letting you get used to his size before he started thrusting ever so slowly. His mouth was on yours again and you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him tighter, closer. He was so strong and lithe under your hands. He was calling your name in whispers. “We fit together perfectly, my god, you’re so beautiful.” He panted into your ear. His words and praise echoing in your brain, flooding you with a rush of emotions. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, his hips starting to falter against yours. You slid your hand between you wanting to come with him. “Ah fuck!” He cried as you contracted around him. You rocked your hips harder against him as you reached your end. “JOHNNY!” He thrust into you a couple more times before he came. Propping himself up on his arms and gazing at you with wide eyes. 

Taking deep shaky breaths he rolled onto his side. Laying next to you, cupping your face with his hand. Lovingly running his thumb back and forth over your cheek. “That felt like the start of something.” He said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “The start of us? Together?” “Yeah. I want that. I want you.” You grinned and felt your stomach flutter. “I want that too Johnny, I want to be with you.” “I’m all yours Rookie, I’m all yours.” He smiled as he traced his finger down the bridge of your nose before capturing your mouth with his.

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[incorrectswntquotes]

Rachel Corsie: There was a numbness. I couldn’t believe that it was happening to us

I had to remind Rachel Corsie of the date: June 19, 2019. It was one of the most stunning moments of last summer’s Women’s World Cup, and Corsie, as captain of Scotland, was there right in its midst.

Just how did Scotland, needing a win to go through to the round of 16 and leading Argentina 3-0 after 74 minutes, contrive to draw that game? The Scotland men’s team have provided many heartaches over the decades and, in keeping with tradition, here were our women making their own contribution to our great canon of cock-ups.

Corsie, 30, can smile about it now but her pain at the time was very real. Over the closing 16 minutes, Argentina clawed it back to 3-3, in part courtesy of a last-minute penalty controversy via VAR, which put Scotland out.

“I can still remember the feelings that I felt in the moment,” she says. “There was this slight numbness about what was happening. As Argentina came back into it you were sort of thinking, ‘I’m not sure if this really is happening.’ I know it’s a cliché but that is how it felt.

“We were 3-0 up but we weren’t feeling complacent. They had good players, especially their No 9 and No 10. I knew them both as players, especially their striker, Estefanía Banini, who I’ve played against a number of times in the States. We were playing really well. We scored a second, then a third, and then their centre back went down with cramp. I thought, ‘We’re in control of this’. We actually could have got to 4-0 when Erin [Cuthbert] had a chance, but their keeper made a good save.

“I was angry when their first goal went in [after 74 minutes]. I remember being angry because it was sloppy. Then their second goal — it just shouldn’t have gone in, enough said. Then those last few minutes were frantic and it got nervy for everyone. We were the better team, we played better football, but we didn’t win the game. It was very painful.”

That drama aside, Corsie loves her career as a professional footballer. At present, she is home in Scotland for the close season of the National Women’s Soccer League in the United States, where she plays for Utah Royals in front of 10,000 crowds and earns, she admits, close to $100,000 a year (about £76,000) in actual or benefit-related earnings. Intriguingly, Corsie has been training with the Hearts men’s reserves, and this week is also helping to coach Scotland Women’s under-16s.

She was a north-east of Scotland child who grew to love football through her parents. Her great grandfather, Donald Colman, played for Aberdeen and Scotland prior to the First World War. As a child, Corsie would accompany her father, an amateur coach, to his matches on a Saturday, run around and fetch balls, and realise in time that she was quite good at football. She became an Aberdeen season-ticket holder, along with her mum, and began regularly attending that theatre of dismay known as Pittodrie.

Having amassed 114 caps and seen it all over the past ten years, I asked Corsie: where exactly is women’s football today?

“It is night and day compared to when I started, but it feels like a lot of the growth has come in the last three, four, five years,” she says. “When I was first capped for Scotland [in 2009] there were just fewer players playing — so that part has certainly grown. Also, an appreciation of the women’s game has drastically changed. Five years ago there was still this feeling that we were trying to prove ourselves, and having to justify our existence. There is far less of that now, which allows us to keep moving forward. Plus, you had all the excitement of last summer’s World Cup. So, yes, I think we have momentum.”

In this context, I put to her my own perplexing theory about the women’s game, observed most notably during the World Cup. While women’s football wants equality — whatever that means — it was striking how, whenever some atrocious piece of play occurred on the park in France, TV and radio commentators would soft-soap the moment, calling it “unfortunate” or “a pity” rather than nailing the mistake. For context, I suggested, on Match of the Day such incidents in men’s football would be ruthlessly called out for what they were by pundits. Why should women be spared the same sort of analysis as the men?

“I’m glad you’ve raised this, because I agree with you,” Corsie says. “When you watch male pundits debating football, I love seeing guys like Jamie Carragher and Gary Neville making their points strongly. But that is sometimes missing in coverage of the women’s game.

“I think commentaries of women’s football originally took on this pattern [of non-criticism] because a lot of the women commenting were current players, and so were reluctant to say something that might offend their friends or colleagues. That was a part of it.

“The other point people make is, ‘go easy, we’re trying to grow the women’s game’ but my counter argument to this is, if there is a mistake on the pitch, it is almost a bigger insult to us not to call it for what it is — a mistake. If a defender goes to clear the ball, misses it, and the striker scores, and you say, ‘oh, that’s unfortunate’, I would be insulted by that. It’s almost like, that’s their level, just accept it.

“People comment in this way because they want to try to encourage the women’s game. But it doesn’t do us any favours.”

I asked Corsie what it was like training with Hearts. Was there a physical and technical gulf there? Could she keep up with the men?

“Hearts have been brilliant to me,” she says. “It was Shelley Kerr [Scotland Women manager] who fixed it up. She knew I was home for three months, that I wanted to train, and fixed it for me to go into Hearts. They have been fantastic, allowing me to train with them, providing me with kit and much more.

“A lot of those guys have played in the Hearts first team. So it has been great for me, to play at their speed, at a different level, to be honest.”

How did she compare technically with the men? “Well, I’m a centre back, so this is position specific,” she says. “They are all better than me in terms of things like dribbling ability. But, in terms of my passing and my first touch, I was absolutely fine.” And if there was a sudden emergency, and Hearts needed a centre back for a men’s reserve game, could she step up? “That would be a step too far for me. On a full pitch, with the change of pace and physicality, it would be too much.

“Of course, that isn’t the point. Compared to the women’s game, it is a whole new level. But the standard of the women’s game is what is relevant and what matters to me.”

Will Corsie remain in football as a coach after retiring?

“You do reach a certain age and think: ‘What else is there in life?’ I love football, it will always be a part of my life. And I want to give back to football, somehow.

“But I trained and qualified with Ernst & Young, and I enjoy that side of work. I enjoy the corporate world. Who knows what the future holds?”

[thecollegefootballguy]

2019 Top Games of the Week: Week 4

Oh baby now we’re talking. Conference play is here to save us. The non-con part of the year was alright, but the meat of the schedule is upon us! We have multiple ranked matchups and a top ten game to top it all off. Rejoice! College football is in full swing!

The Top Ten Games of the Week

10. #16 Oregon 2-1 (0-0) at Stanford 1-2 (0-1) (Saturday 9/21)

I’m not very sure about this one. This one could be just a beatdown if Stanford is as bad as they’ve looked in the past two weeks. But there’s probably a bit more upset potential than some of the other games I was considering for the last slot. I’m not sold on Oregon just yet. The Ducks could start off PAC-12 play with a feel good win here, and absolutely bury the reeling Cardinal, virtually guaranteeing the North mainstay their first losing season in a decade.

9. SMU 3-0 (0-0) at #25 TCU 2-0 (0-0) (Saturday 9/21)

The Iron Skillet game has a lot more riding on it than usual. SMU hasn’t looked this good in years, so the Mustangs are hoping to knock off their old Southwest rivals for the first time since their upset in 2011. TCU is looking to take advantage of a wide open race for the #2 spot in the Big 12 Championship Game. Obviously a win here would bode well for the Horned Frogs’ chances.

8. #23 California 3-0 (1-0) at Ole Miss 2-1 (1-0) (Saturday 9/21)

The very rare PAC-SEC game gets the nod into the top 10 games of the week. Nobody quite knows how good Cal is. The Bears’ shocking upset of conference favorite Washington has thrown the conference into chaos. A win here would further propel Cal’s case as a rising star in the conference. Ole Miss has proven it is still fighting for bowl eligibility with their win over Arkansas. The Rebels need a victory here to keep the path open.

7. #15 UCF 3-0 (0-0) at Pittsburgh 1-2 (0-1) (Saturday 9/21)

UCF only has a few hurdles to clear to have another undefeated regular season. If they were any other team, I wouldn’t consider this a big deal, even though it’s a P5 opponent on the road. But this is Pitt, who always seem to ruin somebody’s season. They didn’t do it to Penn State, so the Knights might be facing a bigger fight than they expected.

6. #22 Washington 2-1 (0-1) at BYU 2-1 (Saturday 9/21)

Well this has suddenly become a pretty interesting game. Washington looks all kinds of mortal and is going into a hornet’s nest in Provo. BYU has taken two P5 scalps in two weeks, with wins over both Tennessee and USC. Now, the Cougars have the opportunity to take out a second ranked PAC-12 opponent in a row and make a huge statement. What would it mean for them as a non-P5 independent? I couldn’t tell you.

5. Oklahoma State 3-0 (0-0) at #12 Texas 2-1 (0-0) (Saturday 9/21)

Uh oh. It’s Oklahoma State, the infernal albatross slung over Texas’ neck. The Cowboys have won four in a row and seven of nine against the Longhorns. If UT wants to prove that they’re a serious contender for the Big 12 race, they really should win this game. The Horns got to the Big 12 Championship despite losing last year, but that’s not any kind of guarantee this time around.

4. #10 Utah 3-0 (0-0) at USC 2-1 (1-0) (Friday 9/20)

Yeah, I know Arizona State just got ranked, but likely as not this game will probably decide the PAC-12 South. The Utes should be favored here, but USC has the talent to compete if they can pull everything together.

3. #8 Auburn 3-0 (0-0) at #17 Texas A&M 2-1 (0-0) (Saturday 9/21)

Now here we go with the ranked matches. Auburn is all the way in the top ten thanks to their win over Oregon. I’m not sure I trust the Tigers to actually be that good, and this game will go a long way to showing us just how good Auburn is (and A&M for that matter). The Aggies weren’t embarrassed by Clemson, so I would assume they’re the favorites here, especially with the game at home. The SEC West race begins here.

2. #11 Michigan 2-0 (0-0) at #13 Wisconsin 2-0 (0-0) (Saturday 9/21)

The Big Ten is treating us to a juicy cross-division matchup real early on. Michigan and Wisconsin are both tailing Ohio State as contenders for the conference championship. The Wolverines have looked pretty stale so far in their two games, but the Badgers have easily handled their opponents. I expect this one to be a full out slug fest.

1. #7 Notre Dame 2-0 at #3 Georgia 3-0 (1-0) (Saturday 9/21)

Well, we’re still in September, so another non-conference game takes the #1 spot. Notre Dame travels to Athens to face a formidable Georgia team that is itching to get back to the College Football Playoff. The Irish want to avenge their poor showing in the final four from last season. This one is definitely the game to watch as two bona-fides square off.

-

5 Group of 5 Games of the Week

5. Temple 2-0 (0-0) at Buffalo 1-2 (0-0) (Saturday 9/21)

Ok Temple, you just beat ranked Maryland, now what’s gonna happen? It would be really cool to see the Owls throw their hat into the ring for the AAC East race and a win here will help keep the momentum going. Buffalo looks a bit depleted after winning the MAC East last year, but the Bull are gonna put up a fight.

4. Utah State 1-1 (0-0) at San Diego State 3-0 (0-0) (Saturday 9/21)

With the Mountain West looking like the toughest of the G5 conferences, the middle of the pack is going to be a bloodbath. Utah State had a very strong season in 2018 and the Aggies saw a bit of the wind taken out of their sales after barely losing to a surprisingly good Wake Forest. San Diego State has raced out to a 3-0 start which included a win over UCLA in the Rose Bowl. The Aztecs once again are sporting one of the best scoring defenses in the country. It’s better than watching your average ACC game I’ll tell you that.

3. Appalachian State 2-0 (0-0) at North Carolina 2-1 (1-0) (Saturday 9/21)

Two of the three best teams in the state of North Carolina will do battle on Saturday. Appalachian State has survived losing Scott Satterfield through two games, and again look like the Sun Belt’s best team by a mile. The Tar Heels have started strong, but a win over the upstarts out West will help further establish UNC as a team on the rise.

2. Houston 1-2 (0-0) at Tulane 2-1 (0-0) (Thursday 9/19)

Houston aren’t the world-beaters they want to be right now, and Tulane has the makings of a real dark horse challenger. The AAC West may end up being a couple teams chasing after Memphis, but for now things are wide open.

1. Air Force 2-0 (0-0) at #20 Boise State 3-0 (0-0) (Friday 9/20)

Boise State faces their first conference challenge in Air Force. The Falcons just knocked off Colorado in Boulder, so this game could be a real deciding factor for the Mountain Division.

-

FCS Games of the Week

3. #14 Central Arkansas 3-0 (1-0) at Hawaii 2-1 (0-0)

We’ve still got some FBS-FCS upset alert games.

2. #5 Towson 3-0 (1-0) at #18 Villanova 3-0 (0-0)

An important CAA conference game? It must just be another average week in the FCS. Towson suprised everybody last week with a commanding win at Maine. The Tigers now have to get a second straight road win over a ranked opponent.

1. #4 UC Davis 2-1 (0-0) at #1 North Dakota State 3-0 (0-0)

The FCS always gives us top notch non-conference scheduling, and this will probably be the best non-con game of them all. Until the Playoff of course. Davis and NDSU were Quarterfinalists last season and will once against jockey for position here.

[punmasterkentparson]

Sacred in the Moment

read on ao3

“I wanna kiss you everywhere,” Swoops murmurs, his lips tickling Kent’s jaw as he speaks.

“Everywhere?” Kent asks, only half-listening. They’ve been making out on his couch for twenty minutes and Swoops has both hands on Kent’s ass. Higher brain functions have been out the window for a while.

“Mm, everywhere.” Swoops punctuates this with a gentle bite.

And because Kent can’t pass up any opportunity to be a dick, he says, “Even Omaha, Nebraska?”

Swoops pulls his head up. “What.”

“Salt Lake City, Utah?” Kent continues, making his eyes wide as though scandalized. “Steak N Shake?”

“Stop.”

“Blockbuster?”

Swoops groans and pinches his ass through his jeans. It barely hurts but Kent yelps anyway. “I was being romantic, you dickweed.”

“Sorry. It was too easy.” Kent knows he’s grinning too much for a believable apology.

“You’re such a pain,” Swoops grumbles fondly, and kisses him.

Columbus, OH

Losing is never fun. Losing in Columbus isn’t as awful as, say, losing in Pittsburgh, but it still sucks. The Aces are subdued the next morning as they haul their luggage out of the hotel, onto the airport shuttle, and onto the plane. Most of them find their usual seats and settle in for a nap, a movie, or a game of cards. Swoops’ normal seat isn’t next to Kent, it’s a few up ahead, so Kent is surprised when Swoops slips into the spot beside him.

“I’m not gonna be good company,” Kent warns.

“That’s fine, I’m not staying. Just wanted to give you something.”

“Oh?” Kent’s eyes still feel sticky with sleep and his heart is heavy from the shutout. He doesn’t realize what Swoops is doing until he feels the light pressure of lips against his temple.

“Everywhere,” Swoops says, giving Kent a gentle smile, and then he gets up and heads down the aisle.

Kent doesn’t figure out what Swoops meant by that until their plane is touching down on Ottawa tarmac. When he does, he blushes so hard his cheeks hurt.

Oh. Everywhere.

BB&T Center, Miami, Florida

“Your tie’s crooked, c’mere.”

Kent looks down at himself, trying to see what Swoops is talking about.

“Just c’mere, will you?” Swoops is waving him away from the door to the locker room, which is already full of their teammates pulling off their game day suits and getting ready for warmups.

Kent rolls his eyes and goes over. “I’m taking it off in like, a minute.”

“Aren’t you the captain? Set an example.” Swoops messes with Kent’s collar and makes a few (minor) adjustments to the angle of Kent’s tie. “There.”

“You did literally nothing—” Kent begins to protest, but shuts up when Swoops reels him in by his tie and kisses him. The pressure is light, barely there, and gone in less than a second. After all, they’re alone in the hall but anyone could walk by.

Swoops drops Kent’s tie and winks. “Everywhere. Even outside the locker room.” Then he grins. “You’re blushing really hard.”

“You surprised me,” Kent sputters.

“Better stay on your toes, then.” Swoops pats his shoulder and heads into the locker room alone.

Kent stands outside and fans his face for a couple minutes before he feels like he can go in without being chirpped to death.

The Blind Badger, Anaheim, California

Kent quickly figures out that there’s no logic to the locations where Swoops will choose to kiss him. Sometimes it’s by city, sometimes by arena, sometimes it’s just random. Kent also finds out that he’s not allowed to play. He sneaks into Swoops’ hotel room one night in a desperate attempt to end the week-long dry spell they’ve been forced to have, and when he tries to say, “Everywhere, even your hotel room in Dallas,” Swoops just shakes his head and says, “Doesn’t work like that, Parse.”

So it’s Swoops’ thing, just his. Kent doesn’t mind. It’s embarrassing as hell, because he cannot stop himself from blushing like a fool every time it happens, but he doesn’t mind.

He’s starting to look forward to it.

The Aces go to Anaheim and win handily, 5-2, and then go out to celebrate. They’ve got their choice of bars, and end up in a place that one of the guys found on Yelp, called “The Blind Badger.”

“This place is classy as fuck,” Carl announces when they get in.

“When you’re right, you’re right,” Swoops drawls, although Kent is looking around and he can’t say that Carl’s wrong. The bartenders are wearing ties and serving flaming martinis. Most people here are wearing at least business casual attire.

Their group gets a table and orders their first and second rounds. The bar’s atmosphere keeps them from getting too rowdy, but it’s impossible to smother the full force of their volume. Fortunately, the bar is crowded enough that the worst of their noise is drowned out.

Three rounds and a burger later, Kent hauls himself out of his seat while calling, “I’m going to the bathroom, nobody drink my beer.”

He’s no sooner through the door labeled “Gentlemen” than Swoops is right there with him.

“Swoops, what—Oh no, dude, we’re basically in public—”

Swoops kisses him anyway. Hot, wet, and filthy. Kent almost chokes on the amount of tongue in his mouth. His back bumps the door and he yelps, which becomes a low, needy whine when Swoops pushes a thigh right there.

It’s over before Kent can even think to retaliate. 

Swoops steps back, smirking, and licks his lips before wiping them with the back of his hand. Then he gestures to Kent’s crotch and says, “You’ve got...”

Kent doesn’t need to look, he can feel his own dick getting fat in his pants. “Who’s fault is that?!”

“Not mine. I was never here. I never kissed you in the men’s bathroom at a bar.”

“You absolutely did, and now I’m horny as fuck. You better make this up to me later. You owe me.”

“I will.” Swoops is still smiling, the dick. “You gonna let me out?”

Kent moves away from the door, but not without getting in a hard smack on Swoops’ ass as he goes by.

The Marriott, Montreal, Canada

They’re both stupid, is the problem.

They join a group of guys watching a movie in Kelly’s room. They don’t sit together—Kent shoves his way onto the bed and Swoops takes up a spot at the foot of an armchair. But they’re in the same room, still together, and even having five other teammates in the room with them heckling their way through Fifth Element, they can catch each others’ eyes and share a smile and that sense of, Oh, hello.

After Corbin Dallas has met LeeLoo (but before the Diva sings her solo) Swoops gets up and says, “I’m hitting the vending machine.”

There are scattered requests for Doritos and Snickers and Diet Pepsi, and half a dozen other things that aren’t on any of their meal plans. Kent grabs his wallet and says, “I’ll go with you.”

The halls are empty, just miles of off-white walls and eye-smarting geometric red carpet. A dimly-lit alcove hides the ice dispenser and two vending machines, one for drinks and one for snacks. It’s not exactly romantic. But as Kent is feeding dollars in and eyeing his chocolate options, Swoops takes his arm and says softly, “Hey.”

Kent looks up, and Swoops kisses him. It’s soft and lingering, the kind of kiss that makes Kent feel peeled open. Like Swoops is seeing Kent raw and he likes what he sees. It makes Kent feel wanted, cherished.

"With Hershey's as my witness," Swoops murmurs.

Kent chokes on a laugh, which makes Swoops giggle, and it's so goddamn cute that Kent has to pull him back in. They kiss through their smiles, each of their hands finding places to latch on: a hip, a shoulder, a back pocket. Kent loves that Swoops makes him feel like this, like Kent is something to be sought out and savored. He wants to say "fuck the movie" and drag Swoops back to his room.

Then someone says, way too close, “Are you guys—oh, my god.”

They break apart. It’s Scraps.

Kent can feel the blood draining out of his own face. He feels numb.

Scraps is still standing there, slack-jawed, his eyes wider than Kent ever thought they could go. 

“S-scraps,” Swoops says. “Buddy—”

“You guys were kissing."

Kent grapples with words. “I, uh. No we weren't.” 

“You were kissing in the hallway,” Scraps says, like he’s talking about an alien encounter in a cornfield. “Like, kissing. Are you guys, you know, together? Or is it just—what’s it, blowing off steam? ‘Cause I never did it but I heard a lot of guys in Juniors—”

“How ‘bout you fuck off ‘cause it’s none of your business?” Swoops cuts in, his glare cold.

Kent puts a hand on Swoops’ arm and gives him a look meant to convey Back the hell off, man. To Scraps, he says, “Can we talk about this later? Please? And... maybe don’t tell the guys? Or like, anyone?”

Still giving Swoops a befuddled frown, Scraps nods. “Sure.” He holds up a dollar bill. “Can I buy some pretzels?”

So they move aside to let Scraps buy his pretzels. Kent pats him on the shoulder and says, “Don’t tell the guys?”, to which Scraps repeats, “Sure,” and heads back to the room.

Kent heaves a sigh of relief. “Well, fuck.” Then he gives Swoops a gentle-but-not-that-gentle punch to the arm.

“Ow! The hell?”

Kent punches numbers into the vending machine and squats to pick his M&Ms out of the slot. “You didn’t have to be such a dick.”

“Oh yeah, sorry for being scared outta my mind. How long do you think this is gonna stay quiet? It’s Scraps, for crying out loud! This is the guy who spent a whole day pondering out loud whether a ton of bricks weighed more than a ton of feathers and still didn’t come up with an answer!”

“Wow, and you are still being a dick.”

Swoops waves both hands angrily, hard enough to nearly send his handful of snacks flying. “How are you so calm?!”

Kent sighs. “Because it’s Scraps. He’s a good guy, he won’t rat us out. Christ, Swoops, you know that. You wanna tell me why you’re freaking out so badly?”

Swoops grinds his teeth for a second, then says, “No.”

“No, you don’t know, or no, you don’t wanna tell me?”

“No, I don’t want to tell you. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“So?”

Kent gapes. “Fine, then.” He turns on his heel and heads back to the room, alone.

Later, when Swoops comes back and hands out goodies, Kent doesn’t look at him. He doesn’t acknowledge Swoops for the rest of the night, and when he wakes up the next morning still mad, he doesn’t talk to Swoops on the bus or the plane, either.

Saint Paul, Minnesota

Eventually the sting of the spat wears off. It has to; if they don’t let it dissipate, it could fuck with team dynamics, and nothing is worth that. Kent is a captain first and a lover second. When they’re on the road, facing down December and an agonizingly slow but steady drop down the Western Conference rankings, he has to be.

They don’t talk about what happened in front of the vending machine in the Marriott in Montreal, though. It chafes at Kent, the memory of dismissal in that single, “So?” But Scraps doesn’t tell anyone and that seems to satisfy Swoops, and if there’s no active disagreeing going on, Kent has to assume it’s all fine.

"Are you guys fighting?" Scraps asks Kent at a team dinner.  "You and Jeff?" Everyone around them is stuffing their faces and drinking, because they’d just lost that afternoon on account of a truly embarrassing couple of empty-net goals.The bar has three blaring TVs and most of them are half drunk. None of them are listening.

"No.”

Scraps looks surprised. “Really? You guys are always together, and now you’re...not.” He glances down the table, where Swoops is laughing loudly at something Tads has just said and stuffing cheese sticks in his mouth. Then he leans in close and says something so quiet that Kent can’t make it out.

“Bud, I can’t hear you.”

The volume comes up a notch. “I said, did you guys break up?”

Kent’s immediate response is to shake his head and exclaim, “No!” but what’s horrifying is that his first thought is, Wait, did we?

Their game hasn’t suffered, at least. Kent wouldn’t place the blame of tonight’s loss on him and Swoops not clicking on the ice.

But he’s acutely aware that Swoops hasn’t kissed him since Montreal, and that... scares him, actually. He hadn’t let himself think about it but he is now and when he looks at Swoops sitting a few feet (it feels like miles) away, drinking and eating and not seeking Kent out with his eyes the way he usually would...

It’s a black hole in Kent’s chest.

Shit.

Providence River, Providence, Rhode Island

“Can we talk?” Kent asks—pleads, really, the morning of the game. Half the team is still asleep upstairs in their rooms, the other half eating breakfast and fully distracted by coffee and their phones. Kent is not a morning person, but Swoops is. Kent had set his alarm for this god-awful hour so he’d have a shot at getting Swoops alone.

Swoops has been wearing an expression like he was expecting this since he spotted Kent coming out of the elevator. But he just sighs, says, “Yeah, sure,” and puts his empty plate aside. “Where?”

“Let’s take a walk,” Kent suggests.

They grab cinnamon rolls and cups of coffee for the road and leave the hotel. Nobody expects the Aces to go anywhere this early, so the front lobby and entrance are clear. Kent steers them in the direction of the Providence River. Swoops might know where they’re going, he might not. Still, he follows without question or complaint.

With the sun barely in the sky and the area not residential, they have the sidewalks mostly to themselves. Kent asks, without preamble, “Did we break up?”

Swoops nearly spits out his coffee. “What? No!” His eyes are wide. “Wait, are you saying you want—”

“No! No.”

“Okay.” Swoops takes a careful breath. “Okay. Good. I don’t want to.”

“Me neither.”

Kent leads them left at an intersection, and it’s only a few more minutes before the river comes into view. There’s a bike path following it, lined with white railing and skeletal trees bereft of their leaves. It’s November but unseasonably warm—or at least what passes for “warm” in Rhode Island at this time of year. Kent’s sweatshirt and his coffee are keeping him from feeling the brunt of the morning chill. The sun is rising over the city, breaking it into blocky shadows and streaks of light.

They walk, finishing their cinnamon rolls and draining their coffees and then dumping the remains in a public trashcan. The silence drags on.

Swoops breaks it. “I know what I said, I know how it came off, and I’m sorry. I’m also sorry I wasn’t sorry earlier. I’m just... I don’t know. I was pissed off.”

Kent hates to ask, but he does. “At me?”

There’s a small, awful pause preceding Swoops’ response. “No.”

“Scraps, then? ‘Cause it’s not his fault he saw us—”

“I’m not pissed at Scraps. Or maybe ‘pissed’ isn’t the right word, I don’t know. I just—him showing up reminded me, is all. That it’s not safe to kiss you everywhere.” Swoops blows out a frustrated breath and rubs his eyes. “I would, you know? I’d kiss you in front of other people. I’d kiss you anywhere, in front of everyone, if I...could.” His eyes are going glassy and he quickly wipes the wetness away.

“Holy shit, are you—?” Kent says, but doesn’t wait for a response before pulling Swoops into a tight hug.  

Swoops’ returning grip is like a bearhug. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Kent holds him close as long as he dares. Then he pulls back and meets Swoops’ gaze. “So, you like me, don’t you.”

“Of course I like you.”

“You really, really like me.”

“I’m fucking crazy about you,” Swoops huffs. “Okay?” He’d be more convincingly exasperated if his face wasn’t blotchy and his eyes weren’t still damp.

“I’m fucking crazy about you, too,” Kent admits, even though it feels like diving in front of a Zdeno Chara slapshot. Being around Swoops has the side-effect of making Kent brave to the point of stupidity. “So don’t stop kissing me all over North America, okay? You said everywhere. I want everywhere.”

Swoops might cry again, from the look of him. Kent can’t believe he’s been best friends with this guy for half a decade and never known what a soft heart Swoops has. “I’ll do my best,” Swoops says.

Kent wants so badly to take his hand. “Come on,” he says instead. “Let’s find a really thick bunch of trees and kiss behind them.”

“That’s basically in public,” Swoops protests, but Kent can’t help noticing that he follows along as soon as Kent starts walking again. “I’m not helping you do something that stupid.”

“Well, fine. Where do you wanna kiss me?”

Swoops puts an arm over Kent’s shoulders—casual enough to be ‘just friends’ but close enough for Kent to feel his warmth—and smiles. “I’ll see what comes to me.”

[megwritesfanfiction]

Let Go, Chapter 7/?? (Raven/??)

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans. This is a work of fiction that I am not making a profit off of.

A/N: So I’ve gotten a lot of people asking why don’t I update faster if I’m ahead. I try to work ahead so I can update every other week consistently. Because last week I didn’t feel like writing and a lot of stuff came up, also yesterday I slammed my thumb in my car door... Sometimes things happen to prevent me from writing. So, I am trying to avoid that and not take two years for this... Hopefully... 

Do you need to catch up? I got you! ->

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

WARNING - FLASHBACK CONTAINS LIGHT MENTION OF DRUG USE.

Flashback

Sweat blurred his vision as he curled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Teeth chattering, Roy’s head dropped down to his chest as his chest heaved. “No,” he gritted out between stuttering clenched teeth.

Karen sighed, stepping in front of him. “I hear your con-“

His head snapped forward, falling to the trash can in between his legs as he emptied his stomach once again.

Karen rushed to his side, steadying him. “Roy,” she started, helping him lean up once more. Bringing a cold towel to his face, she wiped his chin. “I think you need-“

“No,” he told her, falling back against the medical cot. Eyes rolling to the ceiling, Roy tried to focus on anything but his pain. His head throbbed, and it felt as though every nerve in his body was on fire. His stomach rolled in wild waves of nausea and chest clenched tightly with panic. Breathing labored, Roy’s body was coated with sweat as he shivered from the cold. “I don’t n-ne-“

“Then let me monitor your vitals,” she huffed, placing a tired hand on her forehead as she watched him. “You could go into cardiac arrest or have a seizure.”

Roy chuckled tightly, looking at her as cheekily as he could manage. “I’m still,” he inhaled sharply, chest constricting. Cardiac arrest sounded pretty good if it meant he got a moment without pain. “Awake.”

“For now.” She pulled the monitors closer to his head. “And I wanna make sure you stay alive if you pass out during the detox.

“I d-don’t think,” he wheezed, laughing, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “I’m going to pass out.” He was pretty sure he was dying though.

“We can still do the chemical detox,” Karen told him gently. Taking his left hand, she tied the tourniquet around his arm.”You can sleep dur-“

“No drugs.”

“You’re not getting high-“

“No.” Though weak, his voice was firm. “No,” he whispered, eyes closing as he focused on breathing. A small gasp escaped his lips as he felt the needle prick his skin.

“Sorry,” Karen mumbled with a small grimace.

The prick hadn’t hurt him.

Roy had injected heroin between his toes in a gas station bathroom.

Pain wasn’t the problem.

That needle stick brought a flood of nostalgia and wave of doubt. Not even twenty four hours into withdrawal, and he already missed heroin.

Alcohol.

Percocet.

Ecstasy.

Heroin.

And the long list of things he tried from strangers hands and bodies.

The conscious decision to detox meant he was going to work toward sobriety. It meant that he was going to try to deal with the long list of problems repressed.

His mother’s abandonment.

Witnessing his father burn to death.

Brave Bow’s death.

His estranged relationship with Ollie.

Jade.

Lian.

Roy squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing bile and the craving to numb his feelings. “I need,” he gasped sharply, teeth gritting together as his head throbbed. “I need this to hurt.” He wanted the consequences of relapse burned into the front of memory. His fingers dug into his arms as he trembled.

Karen finished the IV, hooking her friend up to the monitors. “Okay,” she told him quietly, placing a comforting hand against his shoulder.

“I-“ he inhaled. Eyes blurred as he watched the the floor crash against the ceiling.

“Roy?” She placed a gentle hand against his chest, shaking him. “Roy?” Karen checked his pupils, then placed her fingers against his neck for a pulse.

The steady note of asystole echoed in the med lab.

“Shit!” She cursed, immediately applying chest compressions. “Roy!” Karen shouted, as she pumped his chest.

Flash Forward

“What time is it?” Raven murmured, panicking as she pushed the hoodie draped over her. She faintly wiped the line of drool running down her chin.

Between listening to Changeling’s voicemail messages, Roy offering to take her back to Jump, and the noisy dialogue running through her mind, Raven had reached her limit. Her lighthearted morning had quickly spiraled down into overwhelming anxiety and panic. When Roy exited to the interstate, she’d hastily crawled into the back seat to locate her backpack to locate her pills for panic attacks.

She wasn’t worried about the clothes and underwear thrown during her search.

She didn’t care that Roy could hear the pills rattling in the plastic bottles.

Raven popped one of her pills in her mouth and settled back into the passenger seat, leaning back into the seat as she closed her eyes in relief. The last thing she remembered was the melody of the radio becoming quieter and Roy’s quiet humming as the world faded to black.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Roy smirked, taking a quick glance at his companion. “Have a nice nap?”

Raven roughly rubbed her eyes, leaning down as her back arched. “What time is it?” She repeated, looking at the clock in front of her.

“Almost six,” he answered with a sure nod. “I tried to wake you up when I stopped for-“

“Grilled cheese,” she smirked, shaking her hair out as she looked out at the road.

“Actually I got a double cheeseburger and a strawberry milkshake.”

“What? No fries?” Raven teased, resting her head against the seat. Her eyes moved toward the dashboard. “You’re slipping.”

He scoffed, “The fries were implied the moment I said double cheeseburger.”

“Roy?” She drawled, her head tilting at the black screen of the GPS.

“I mean they weren’t great fries,” he shrugged as he continued driving. “I’ve been hoping we could find a place that had some potato wedges.”

“Roy?”

His disappointment was evident, “At the very least some waffle fries…”

Raven shook her head, refusing to be amused by his antics. “Roy?”

“I can’t wait till we get to Chicago. I gotta see a man about a deep dish pizza.”

“Harper!”

Roy’s head snapped over to her for a moment, “Roth?”

At least she had his attention. “Why is the GPS off?”

“Oh that,” he answered, wiggling his fingers around the wheel. His neck stretched as he gazed into the rear view mirror and lowered the sun visor. “I know where we’re going.”

“You know how to get to Chicago?”

“We’re not going to Chicago.”

Raven’s eyes widened in confusion as she sat frozen in the passenger seat. She reached forward, snatching the GPS from the dash mount.

“I know where we’re going,” Roy assured casually.

“I didn’t know you were so familiar with Utah.” Her head bounced against the headrest as she waited for the GPS to start. Her fingers tapped against the outside of the device as her eyes narrowed at him.

“We’re not in Utah.”

Raven didn’t have to turn her head to see his smug satisfied grin. “Well,” she started, looking down at the map loading in her hands. “Colorado then.”

“We’re in Arizona,” Roy told her factually. “You hungry? I know you haven’t had lunch, and I could totally go for a sn-“

Arizona? “Why are we in Arizona?!”

“Why wouldn’t we be in Arizona?”

“Because it’s off course.”

“We have a course?”

“She growled, ”Pull over. I’m driving.”

“No-“

“Pull. Over.”

xxxxxxxxxxxx

“Think she’s gonna call him?”

Nightwing allowed his masked eyes to slide to his peripheral vision as he looked at the changeling sitting in the kitchen behind them. “Not my business,” he murmured quietly as he selected his character for the game. Nightwing cleared his throat as he straightened his back against the couch and focused on the big screen in front of him.

Changeling hadn’t moved from the table since breakfast.

After his brief conversation with Raven, Nightwing ventured into the kitchen for breakfast. Changeling had already been at the table with a bowl of cereal in front of him, spoon in his right hand, and cell phone resting beneath his left. Green eyes locked on the wall in front of him, he didn’t bothering acknowledging Nightwing or Cyborg when either greeted him. He barely shrugged his shoulders to reject their offer to play GameStation with them.

“Well he better get his act together,” Cyborg grumbled, twisting to face the Changeling. “Before he eats all of the Sugar Cocoa Noms,” Cyborg‘s voice boomed echoing through the main room and into the kitchen.

The sound of the cereal bowl clanking against the metal sink echoed loudly, followed the changeling’s angry footsteps. “Fuck you, dude,” Changeling growled, showing Cyborg a choice finger and hugging the box of cereal against his chest.

Cyborg chuckled, watching the changeling retreat.

“Did you have to antagonize him?” Nightwing sighed, tiredly shaking his head as he paused the game. “Really?”

“What?” Cyborg shrugged, innocently. “I just bought that box of cereal. If he wants to eat his feelings, then he can go buy his own damn box.”

Nightwing huffed loudly, head dropping forward between his shoulders, “I can not believe you, Victor.”

“Don’t you “Victor” me!” Cyborg scuffed proudly. “I am all about supportive because he got his little feelings hurt by his little girlfriend-“

“Girlfriend?!” That was certainly an interesting word choice.

Cyborg rolled his eyes. “I’m half robot, not blind. Those two have been hot and cold since day one, so I’m not surprised that he’s upset about her leaving.”

Nightwing nodded. That was fair.

“I am surprised Raven didn’t bother telling him about her move, though,” Cyborg spoke slowly. His eyes carefully shifted to the masked Titan next to him. “Considering she told everyone else.”

“She didn’t tell Terra.”

“Her and Terra were never close.” Nice try.

Nightwing shrugged, fingers fiddling with the controller. It really wasn’t his business.

“You know something,” Cyborg’s eyes widened with interest. “What do you know?”

“Well,” Nightwing inhaled deeply, looking up at the television and adjusting the controller in hands. “I know that it’s none of my business.”

That was a cop out. “And?”

“You might wanna pay attention before I whoop your ass,” Nightwing smirked, immediately starting the fight on screen.

“I wasn’t ready!”

Raven had watched the sun disappear below the horizon, her fingers nervously clutching a bag of french fries. They’d been driving through miles of the endlessly empty roads of Arizona desert. She’d given up counting tumbleweeds and brightly striped boulders. Instead, Raven passed the time by keeping her eyes peeled for the rare sight of lights from a gas station, motel, or some sign that they hadn’t strayed so far from civilization.

“Will you chill out and eat your fries?” Roy chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to drive.

“I’m saving them in case we get stranded in the desert,” she told him with a sigh that was somewhere between teasing and annoyed. “I can start with the fries, then work on eating you to survive.”

He laughed, “You know a lot of people who are lost in the desert are found dead with food and water on them.”

Raven’s eyes narrowed, her nails stabbed through the damp paper bag as she eyed him strangely. “Was that supposed to comfort me?” She wondered. “Cause it didn’t.”

“These are important survival tips,” he nodded confidently, flipping the high beams. “Eat when you’re hungry and drink when you’re thirsty.”

“Nice for you to mention this now.” The car jerked and wobbled as he turned unto the dirt path. Raven leaned forward in her seat, eyes squinting. “When you’re going off road,” she nodded, her lips tight. “Into the desert. Miles from civilization.”

“I know exactly where we are.”

Dust swirled around the car as they road over rocks and gravel. “We’re driving in the middle of the desert.” The lights from the little service station were fading into the night in her side mirror.

“We’re on a side road headed toward our destination,” Roy assured.

“You know know the word road has certain implications, right?”

He cast her a quick affirmative glance as he continued driving, “I know.”

“The word road literally means an open way for vehicles.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“We,” she looked out into the darkness, dust, and dirt. At least the moon was coming out. “Are not on a road. I can’t recall the last time I had to avoid shrubs in the middle of the road.”

“Just because there isn’t a sign pointing to it, doesn’t mean it’s not a road.”

Raven huffed defiantly. There wasn’t much she could really do in this situation, so she may as well relax. “You know that would be really profound if we weren’t lost.”

“Again, not lost,” Roy told her as he continued to drive. “I know exactly where we are, and where we’re going. Even if we were lost, there’s nothing wrong with that. You get somewhere eventually.”

“How could you possibly know where we are?”

The corners of his lips turned down as he inhaled sharply. “My father,” he struggled, clearing his throat to keep his voice steady and to the point. “My father was a forest ranger and after he passed away the Navajo took me in.” Roy looked at her with a sad smirk, “I know a thing or two about navigating the land, Rae.”

She relaxed allowing her back to fall against the seat. Her fingers loosened their death grip on the bag of fries as she cast him a soft glance. “Okay,” she told him quietly.

“We’re almost there,” he whispered. Placing a reassuring hand on her knee, Roy gave it a little squeeze.

Wherever there was.

Raven glanced at the darkness in front of her focusing on the dark sky and stars glimmering above them. Leaning into the headrest, she exhaled loudly as she felt her body sinking into the soft upholstery. Her eyes slowly closed as a little yawn escaped, pressing the button to roll her window down.

Might as well meditate.

Her lips mouthed her mantra as she focused on her breathing.

The gentle rocking of the car.

Roy’s warm hand against her leg.

The cool blast from the night air.

The crackling of gravel and dirt beneath the rough tire treads.

“And,” Roy’s voice chirped excitedly, pulling to a smooth stop. He shifted the car into park and unbuckled his seatbelt. “We’re here!”

xxxxxxxxxxxx

“Really?”

He didn’t even flinch, phone still firmly in his grasp as his thumbs tapped out word after word. Brows knitted in angry concentration and fang sinking into his bottom lip, Changeling hadn’t even noticed her.

“Okay, look,” Terra huffed, snatching the phone out of his hands.

He frowned, looking angrily at his girlfriend. “Give it back,” he requested, too tired to really argue with her.

“No,” she stated firmly. “It’s almost midnight, don’t tell me you’ve been sitting here all day eating cereal and texting Raven?”

Actually, he’d hung out in their room and the roof before coming back to the kitchen to eat cereal and stare at his phone, but he thought it wise not to argue the details. Changeling groaned running his hands over his face in frustration, “What the hell else am I supposed to do?”

“Let it go!” She exclaimed, gesturing to the walls around them. “Like everyone else in this tower!”

“Why is everyone’s acting like this is okay?” He frowned, slouching in his chair. Changeling placed his fingers against his temples massaging the area in firm slow circles.

Raven would do the same thing anytime she was frustrated.

Terra sighed, dropping into the chair next to him. She set his phone aside, gently taking his hands as she faced him. “I am really trying hard to be supportive of whatever you’re going through, but-“

“I’m not going through anything!” He snapped bitterly, flinching. “One of our teammates just up and decided to ditch us! No one is upset! No one is talking about it!”

“What exactly do we need to say, Gar?” Terra questioned. She inhaled sharply, forcing her tone to be even but firm. “Because I don’t know. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

His elbows crashed against the table top as he hung his head in his hands. Fingers ripped through his scalp as he growled with frustration. “She just…” He shook his head, breathing sharply. “She just up and left us. Not a word, a goodbye, not a hint, not a fucking clue. And it, absolutely, bothers the fuck out of me, Terra.”

“Okay,” she nodded, sympathetically. “So what can we do about that?”

His spine slowly straightened, eyes wide and with hopeless confusion as reality flooded his senses. What could he do?

“You’ve spent the last day calling and texting her nonstop, and she hasn’t responded,” Terra explained softly. “Nightwing isn’t worried. Cyborg isn’t worried, and for god’s sake, neither is Starfire.” The blonde shook her head in disbelief as she gave another shrug. “And if Starfire isn’t worried, then…” She trailed off unsure of what to say.

“That’s my point,” he growled. “They should be worried.”

“For what? She’s gone.” Her fingers gently threaded in his hair, tracing soothing circles against his scalp as she watched his mind work furiously to understand. “Okay, we miss her, but the world keeps going, Gar. You get over it in time.”

Changeling felt his eyes open as realization washed over him. “They knew,” he whispered.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

“Where exactly is here?” Raven wondered quietly as she slowly followed Roy out of the car. Eyes focused on the stars, she stepped in front of the car.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen so many stars.

Maybe on Azarath under a different sky.

“Watch your step.” Roy gently grabbed her arm, stopping her from moving forward. He reached inside his pocket. Clicking the key fob, the headlights illuminated through the impossibly black night air around them.

A large fire pit was nestled between two large tipis a few yards in front of them. Small desert shrubs and cacti decorated the deep orange dirt of the desert and beyond the small camp, a large cliff.

“We’re camping?” She asked slowly looking at him and then back at the tipis.

Roy nodded, “We are. I figured you could use a little nature.”

She took a few steps forward, running her fingers over the heavy material of the tipi. She slid her head inside the large opening, taking a step inside.

The bright lights from the headlights permeated through the white cotton of the tipi allowing her to see. A large rug with bright geometric designs was spread in the center with an ornate low table resting on top. A small silver oil lamp sat on top of the table next to a decorative statue. There was a small bed against the wall opposite the opening, fully set with traditional blankets and a bright white fur blanket at the end. Decorative floor pillows were spread through the tipi and deep red chair sat on the side.

This certainly wasn’t what she was expecting to find in the middle of nowhere.

“Welcome to the Navajo Reservation.”

Her fingers touched the soft blanket at the end of the bed, curling around the fur. “Navajo Reservation?”

“Yep,” he confirmed stepping into the doorway with a smirk. “Granted, this experience is more for the tourist, but…” He shrugged, trailing off.

“Cause all Native Americans used tipis, right?” She smirked knowingly.

“I mean the hogans are down the way a bit, but the tipis are a bigger attraction, especially during the warm weather months, but neither here nor there,” Roy admitted with a small sigh. “I figured you could use some quiet time.” He tilted his head to the sky. “With stars.”

Raven smiled, eyes drifting to the very top of the tipi, “I think you’re right.”

To Be Continued

[ginnyweatherby]

Man’s Best Friend

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @tubofskippy !!!!  I can’t believe we’ve been buds for a year already!  I’m so glad to be considered your friend and you deserve all the cake and ice cream in the world on your special day.  I hope it was/is/continues to be a wonderful one.

You liked the last BoM fic I wrote, so I wanted to make another one for you... unfortunately, I don’t think this one is nearly as good because I’m bad at pacing, but it’s an idea I wanted to play around with, and I think it came out pretty cute, regardless.

For anyone else who wants to read this, please enjoy some Arnie fluff, with a healthy dose of his Best Friend and Girlfriend, of course.

Arnold treasured his home in Uganda more than anything.

He missed his family back in America, of course, but he wrote letters often, and even visited on rare occasions.

He loved the little house he shared with Nabulungi, and their “temporary” roommate Kevin.  He loved the food, the friendships he’d made with the villagers, and didn't even mind what the humidity did to his hair.

… but if there was one thing he missed about Utah, it was his family pet, Chewbacca.

Chewbacca was a dog Arnold had grown up with, a fluffy little brown and white thing with spots on its ears.  Arnold was never exactly sure what breed he was, but it didn’t matter.  He was the best dog he’d ever met, and before he left for his mission, he promised little Chewy he would be home before he could even miss him.

But that was almost three years ago, and he hadn't come home.  He stayed in Uganda.

He didn’t regret his decision to stay, not for a moment… but sometimes he wondered if Chewy missed him, or even remembered him.  That dog had been there for Arnold since he was so little that he didn't even recall a time without him.  He was Arnold’s best friend when he didn’t have any others; he slept in his bed (against his father’s wishes) and ate off his plate (against his mother’s).  He was so well-mannered and quiet, and perfectly complemented Arnold's bold personality.

He knew his parents took good care of Chewy in his absence, but sometimes he really missed having his puppy barking excitedly, circling his feet.  A day just didn't seem complete without a walk around the block, or a quick game of fetch.

Their Bible study that morning had derailed somewhere halfway through, something that was not unheard of during a Church of Arnold meeting - and now Arnold, Nabulungi and Kevin were spending their Sunday afternoon simply trying not to melt in the sweltering heat.

The three friends sat under a tall tree near their home, relishing the bit of cooler air the shade provided.  They talked about everything, and yet nothing at all at the same time.  Arnold was insisting Picard was a better captain than Kirk could ever dream of being, while Kevin and Nabulungi politely humored him.

Kevin's birthday was approaching, and Nabulungi asked if he was going to return to Utah to celebrate with his family.

Kevin shrugged.  “Maybe… my youngest brother says he's grown another foot, and I have to see for myself if he's outgrown me yet.”

“Would you go with him?”  Nabulungi asked, turning her attention to Arnold.  “You have not seen your family in a long time.”

Arnold used his finger to draw pictures in the dirt.  “I don't think this time.  My parents are always so busy now that I'm gone.”

“You do not miss it, then?”  Nabulungi asked, furrowing her brow.

“I miss Chewbacca,”  Arnold admitted, and he realized his doodle was a crude likeness of his dog.  He even included the spots on his ears.

“Your dog?”  Kevin asked.

Arnold nodded.

“I have never had a pet,”  Nabulungi admitted.  “My father did not want animals in our home… I suppose I was rowdy enough on my own.”

Arnold laughed.  “Maybe we should get a turtle or something.”

“I do not think I want a turtle,”  Nabulungi decided.  “Their shells are not soft to pet.”

Arnold couldn't argue with such solid logic like hers.

Kevin decided against going to Utah for his birthday, and was spending it with his friends instead.  Nabulungi made him a traditional Ugandan cake, while Arnold attempted to bake a much sweeter confectionary.  They all agreed hers was far tastier.

They were settled in the living area of their small home, (the couch devoid of Kevin's bedding that it usually wore), just enjoying the last few hours of his little party.  Arnold was still wearing a party hat, and Kevin was picking at the last bit cake on his plate, while Nabulungi was asleep against Arnold's shoulder.  It had been a good, but tiring afternoon.

“Did you have a good birthday, Best Friend?”  Arnold asked.

“One of the best,”  Kevin said, giving Arnold a flash of his too-white teeth.

“Which present did you like be-”  Arnold stopped talking when Kevin slapped a hand over his mouth.  “- Hey, what are you doing?”

“Shh, I heard something,”  Kevin said, keeping his voice low.

“Naba, wake up,”  Arnold nudged his snoozing partner, who opened her eyes and groggily muttered something.

“What would be around here making noises?”  Kevin asked her.  He had been in the village for years now, but was still always so jumpy and nervous at nighttime.

“What type of noises?”  Nabulungi asked, rubbing her eye with the back of her hand as she woke up fully.

“Rustling leaves… there, I heard it again!”

Arnold didn’t hear anything, but Nabulungi apparently did.  She tiptoed closer to the door, as her friends anxiously stayed behind.

She peered out of the curtain, before letting out a blood-curdling screech.

Arnold and Kevin screamed in response, certain some sort of jungle cat was about to make them its next meal, when Nabulungi turned back, doubling over with laughter.

“What's so funny?”  Kevin demanded, standing to his full height, his hands resting on his hips.  “What was it?”

“A mountain lion?  A cougar?  A bear?”  Arnold asked, chewing on his pinky nail.

“Oh, my,”  Kevin muttered.

Nabulungi wiped a tear from beneath her eye, still clutching her stomach in laughter.  She seemed unable to speak, although Arnold couldn’t think of anything funny about mountain lions… or cougars… or bears.

“Unless there's a clown out there, I don't know why you're laughing,”  Arnold said, scratching the back of his head.

Nabulungi finally got ahold of herself, and she put one finger up to silence them, before turning around to open the door.

“Naba!”

Nabulungi returned, holding something small and furry in her hands.

“This is your mountain lion,”  She said, her laughter now settled, but a toothy grin still on her face.

Arnold and Kevin slowly approached her, and saw that the source of the sounds weren't exactly a wild cat, but an average house cat.

“A kitten?”  Arnold asked, his smile widening to mirror hers.

She nodded, carefully placing the frightened-looking kitten in his arms.

It was so soft, and so tiny, with tortoiseshell coloring to its fur.  A little pink nose sniffed Arnold's hands, but it seemed to like him well enough that it wasn't scratching, or even making much of an attempt to escape at all.

“Poor little thing,”  Arnold cooed, stroking the kitten’s head.  “Left outside all alone.”

“She is very cute,”  Nabulungi said, reaching over to pet its back.  “And very sweet,” she added, as the kitten began to purr.

They moved back over to the couch and sat down, Arnold still holding the kitten in his lap.  “I’m gonna call you Nala,” he declared.

“You're going to keep it?”  Kevin asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Of course,”  Arnold said, with certainty.  As if he was going to let this tiny thing back outside to be eaten by a bigger something.

Nala let out a long yawn, before curling up into a little circle on Arnold's thigh and falling asleep.

“She likes you already,”  Nabulungi said, with a small smile.

“And I like her,”  Arnold decided.

It wasn't the same as having Chewbacca, of course.  He was a dog, and Nala was a cat… but there was still something special about having a little animal friend that brought a smile to Arnold's face.  He needed this.

He continued to stroke Nala’s fur, as she purred in her sleep… maybe she needed Arnold, too.

“I think I figured out what my favorite present is,”  Kevin said.  “Seeing you happy like this.”

It may have been Kevin's birthday, but to Arnold, it seemed like he was the one who received the greatest gift.

[racingtoaredlight]

College Football 2020 Season Week 8 TV Watch Em Ups: worst case scenario colored glasses

We all should have realized the end was nigh when Wisconsin finally showed up for the season sporting an honest to god four star QB that they had recruited out of high school.

It’s Halloween, there’s a super full extra bloody moon or some such shit, Trevor Lawrence has COVID, the Dodgers won the World Series and Tuesday is election day. All of these things seem foreboding. Oh! And there’s also an asteroid that might hit us on Monday!

Let’s see how many games I write up before the impending doom takes me out this week.

Saturday, October 31

Matchup                                                         Time (ET)           TV/Mobile

16 Kansas State at West Virginia                 12:00pm              ESPN2

College football is always nonsense but this year is extra nonsensical. Both of these teams kind of suck but one of them is ranked #16. K-State is favored in Morgantown and that just seems iffy.

5 Georgia at Kentucky                                   12:00pm              SECN

We are all shocked that Kentucky isn’t actually any good. Of course they’ll feature in some upset updates this week but that’s just because Kirby Smart sucks.

Purdue at Illinois                                             12:00pm                BTN

The way things are going this could be your last chance to see Rondale Moore as a Purdue Boilermakers so that’s something to watch for.

20 Coastal Carolina at Georgia State            12:00pm             ESPNU

I told you last week that there aren’t ten good teams this year and look at this shit.

Michigan State at 13 Michigan                       12:00pm                FOX

Michigan is favored by 21.5 against a bad Michigan State team. If that’s not the set up for a great punchline, I don’t know what is.

23 Iowa State at Kansas                                  12:00pm                 FS1

How do you even get a 50.5-point line listed? That’s setting aside the oddity of being a 50.5-point home underdog. And all of this is setting aside the near certainty that upwards of 50% of the kids in this game have already tested positive for COVID and just weren’t ever notified because that might make them stop playing football. I’m sure there are kids like that all over the TV landscape today, I just have a gut feeling that these two programs would be among the worst offenders.

Wake Forest at Syracuse                                 12:00pm                ACCN 

ACC football, it’s still crappy!

Boston College at 1 Clemson                           12:00pm                  ABC

With Trevor Lawrence up on the shelf this is your first chance to see DJ Uigaleilei actually running the offense. The little bit I saw of him a few weeks ago didn’t inspire my imagination but he is huge and supposedly has quite the strong arm.

UTSA at Florida Atlantic                                    12:00pm               Stadium

The nation’s leading rusher plays for UTSA and his name is Sincere McCormick. I assume he’s actually a time-traveling cowboy.

Temple at Tulane                                                12:00pm                  ESPN+

Two of my favorite flavors of trash. I might not turn on the TV today, though.

Memphis at 7 Cincinnati                                    12:00pm                  ESPN

Part of the reason I’m not sure about my watch ‘em up consumption today is that Miami is off, part is that I won’t be at home most of the day, and part is that I’m afeared Little Ohio State is going to just thump the hell out of our beloved Memphis Tigers. If I check my phone and see this game is close in the third quarter I may feel compelled to check in on it.

UCF at Houston                                                  2:00pm                    ESPN+

For some reason I was thinking Dana Holgorsen had coached Josh Heupel at Oklahoma but Holgo was actually at Texas Tech with Mike Leach after Leach was at Oklahoma. Oh, well. This poison looks sweet to me.

Rice at Southern Miss                                        3:00pm                    ESPN3

My interest in this post is really starting to wane.

Troy at Arkansas State                                       3:00pm                    ESPN3 

In a non-pandemic year I’d love this game.

Abilene Christian at Mercer                               3:00pm                    ESPN3 

This game should be played in the middle of the night with no crowd and maybe no refs or coaches.

Western Colorado at Stephen F. Austin            3:00pm                     ESPN3

This is a 

17 Indiana at Rutgers                                         3:30pm                          FS1

This stupid year. If Rutgers pulls a second straight upset and Sparty somehow beats Michigan, the Rutgers Hauers will probably be ranked next week.

Northwestern at Iowa                                         3:30pm                       ESPN 

Iowa, as per usual, has like five guys on their team that will be NFL starters and still aren’t worth watching.

LSU at Auburn                                                     3:30pm                         CBS

It’s LSU and Auburn! Expect this one to go off the rails early and often.

UAB at Louisiana Tech                                       3:30pm                        Stadium

Good weird football but it’s on Stadium so I can’t recommend it.

4 Notre Dame at Georgia Tech                          3:30pm                          ABC 

The priest that was at the ACB Super Spreader luncheon is the school president of Notre Dame, right? He probably gave COVID to Trevor Lawrence to give his Fighting Satans a chance in hell against Clemson. What’s that you say? Notre Dame isn’t playing Clemson this week? Of course they aren’t. Notre Dame has this weekend off.

TCU at Baylor                                                      3:30pm                       ESPN2

I just threw my hands up and sighed. I don’t know how to type that feeling other than to describe the physical actions. You know what I mean.

Appalachian State at ULM                                  4:00pm                      ESPNU 

I don’t really know.

Virginia Tech at Louisville                                    4:00pm                    ACCN

These were supposed to be “good” ACC teams this year. They are not good teams but either one or both could still turn out to be good in ACC terms.

Texas at 6 Oklahoma State                                 4:00pm                       FOX 

Oklahoma State is fools gold in the rankings but that very fast Canadian kid is still fun to watch.

Mississippi at Vanderbilt                                     4:00pm                    SECN

There is nothing fun or interesting about this game.

Missouri Western at Central Arkansas              4:00pm                   ESPN3

These schools are both junior colleges.

25 Boise State at Air Force                                   6:00pm                 CBSSN

I don’t care what you lot say, Boise State football is a net good for the sport and I like it when they’re ranked.

New Mexico at San Jose State                             7:00pm                  FS1

This game probably shouldn’t be played at all but it definitely shouldn’t kick off at 4pm local time.

Mississippi State at 2 Alabama                            7:00pm               ESPN

Bama is going to be on cruise control for the rest of the regular season but that doesn’t mean they won’t win a few games by 50+.

Charlotte at Duke                                                  7:00pm            RSN/ESPN3 

Hooray Charlotte, I guess.

Navy at 22 SMU                                                     7:30pm                 ESPN2

I’m really not enjoying Navy’s reliance on throwing the ball this year.

Arkansas at 8 Texas A&M                                     7:30pm                  SECN

Again I say pig sooie.

3 Ohio State at 18 Penn State                              7:30pm                   ABC

There are only a few times where it is generally OK to root for the Buckeyes and playing Penn State is always one of those times.

Missouri at 10 Florida                                          7:30pm                  SECN 

I can’t remember if the Gators are wearing cool throwback uniforms this week or if they already did that last week. Somehow my mind is really rejecting this game in particular and I’m not really sure why.

Louisiana at Texas State                                     8:00pm                 ESPNU

This sucks.

15 North Carolina at Virginia                               8:00pm                  ACCN

Wa-hoo-wa imho.

24 Oklahoma at Texas Tech                                8:00pm                   FOX

FOX ads for this week really made it seem like Oklahoma and Oklahoma State were going to play each other but that is very much not the case.

San Diego State at Utah State                           9:30pm                CBSSN 

Huge throbbing boner at the thought of this game.

WKU at 11 BYU                                                    10:15pm               ESPN

BYU seems to be legitimately good for the first time in a while. I like that for nostalgia’s sake even though I have always hated BYU.

Nevada at UNLV                                                   10:30pm                 FS1 

I think UNLV plays in the Raiders stadium now but they might not yet. I don’t remember. I’d rather this game was still played in UNLV’s shitty old stadium over in Henderson.

GAMES OF THE WEEK

9 Wisconsin at Nebraska                  Canceled

North Texas at UTEP                         Postponed

[tubofskippy]

Sekukkulu

Winter prompt #2 - “My cookies are far better than yours.” “––This is the worst cookie I’ve ever eaten.” w/ Arnaba. Requested by @dodgisshipper

It had been nearly a year since Arnold moved to Kitguli. Adjusting to life in Uganda definitely wasn’t what he thought it would be. Sometimes it was difficult - the lack of modern technology was something he expected of course, but it still gave him culture shock every now and then. He didn’t feel too out of touch though, he got along very well with the people there. It helped that most everyone in the village spoke English, but Arnold was making an effort to learn Swahili so as not to impose on their way of life. Nabulungi had been the biggest support to him these past few months.  

But as December rolled around, he started to feel more and more homesick. He would’ve brought it up with his fellow elders, but they treated the month as if it were just any other month. But December was more important to Arnold than it was to Kevin and Connor. He didn’t have the greatest relationship with his parents, but Christmastime was the only time he really felt close with his family. The only time his father rewarded him with gifts. He associated the holiday with love. It was especially hard to get into the holiday spirit in the sweltering heat, 8,000 miles away from his family. There weren’t even any pine trees in Uganda. No tinsel, no carolers, no scent of hot cocoa (well, it was too warm out for hot beverages anyway, but try telling Elder Price that), nothing really that reminded him of Christmas at all. 

Nabulungi caught him sitting secludedly outside of the living quarters, drawing something in the dirt with a stick. 

“What is it you are drawing?”

“S’a tree.”

“That’s a funny looking tree. What are those circles? Fruit?”

Arnold gave a pathetic giggle.

“They’re ornaments. Back in Utah, on December first we put up a tree in our living room every year and decorated it.”

Now it was Naba’s turn to giggle.

“Why?”

“I don’t really know. It’s a Christmas tradition in America.”

“Oh! Christmas is soon, isn’t it?” Nabulungi’s eyes lit up.

Arnold smiled at her, but it didn’t last.

“Yeah, just a few more weeks,” he said. His tone was flatter than usual.

“Then why do you look so sad?” Naba threw an arm around him. 

“I just... miss home, is all. I miss snow... n’ holiday traditions.”

“Oh. Well, you can be a part of our holiday traditions. Baba and I are going to prepare the best chicken Luwombo this year. Would you like to help?” 

“Wait, you mean, you celebrate Christmas here in Kitguli?”

“Yes! But here it is called Sekukkulu. Ever since our village abandoned Christianity, we no longer spend the day in the church, we skip straight to the fun part. It’s our favorite day of the year, we couldn’t possibly give up the celebration. We keep our best livestock all year for Sekukkulu, everybody eats and drinks until they cannot eat any more. After the feast it is time for storytelling, games, dancing, and singing... and everyone is very tired the next day. You will love it. Oh, Arnold I am so happy I’ll get to spend it with you!”

It definitely made Arnold feel better. 

“Thanks, Nabs.” He leaned against her lovingly, but it caught her off guard and almost made her topple over. “Sorry.” Naba gave up and just let him rest in her lap. “I’m looking forward to it! But... I guess right now I miss my own traditions.”

“Then we will do your traditions, too. Tell me, what would you be doing back in Oo-tah right now?”

Arnold stared up into her eyes. She was serious about this. It was cute. He stopped to think for a moment, warm memories flooding into his mind, showing through in the form of tears. He quickly wiped them away. He was just so touched that Naba cared this much. 

“Well.. I’d probably be making Christmas cookies with my mom––”

“Christmas cookies!” she shouted, putting both her hands on his upside down cheeks. 

“Uh, yesh––”

“Get up, Arnold! We are going to make cookies right now!” She darted out from underneath him, leaving his head on the dusty ground. He picked himself up, shaking his head and smiling. “Come on!” He had the villagers’ attention as he chased after her.

They reached her and Mafala’s kitchen - a table in the center, surrounded by bins and bins of ingredients, and a fireplace in the wall. Nabulungi grabbed a huge jar of sugar––one that was saved for rare occasions––and put it on the table. Then she got out a bag of sesame seeds.

“These are sim sim cookies,” she said, while pouring them into a bowl. 

“That’s it? That’s all of the ingredients?” Arnold asked, confusedly staring at the sugar and seeds. Naba nodded her head as she started the fire and hung the bowl over it. 

“I guarantee that my cookies are far better than yours,” she said, after the liquified mixture had been spread out onto a sheet. “I’ve been making them since I was like, three.” She cut a piece off for Arnold, who was expecting it to be brittle, but instead was warm and sticky. The tasteless seeds stuck everywhere onto his teeth. 

“This is the worst cookie I’ve ever eaten,” he said, laughing. Naba took offense to that, and playfully punched his shoulder. “Ok, ok, well, if I don’t count it as a real cookie, it’s actually pretty good!”

“Well then, how do you prepare cookies in Oo-tah?”

“With flour. And eggs. And butter. And brown sugar, and vanilla extract, and chocolate chips, and––”

“You are describing a heart attack,” she laughed. 

“But it sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah...”

“That’s ok, I don’t need ‘em anyways. I like this sugar-seed stuff,” he smiled, taking another bite of it.

“Sim sim cookie,” she corrected him.

“Same same thing.” It made her laugh. “Thank you for doing this with me. You’re the best.” Arnold gave her a big hug. “I can’t wait to spend Se... Se-ku-ku-lu-lu with you.”

She didn’t even try to correct him this time. She just embraced the hug as long as she could. He was nearly a part of her family by now. Arnold knew it, too. And it made the boiling holidays the opposite of insufferable for the both of them.

“Come on, let’s make more!” Arnold said, pouring the sugar into the bowl. “I wanna see Kevin’s face when he tries it.” 

Naba gladly helped him make more batches, and as the two began singing as they baked, Arnold almost forgot that “Oo-tah” even existed. 

[junker-town]

10 takeaways from college basketball’s first full weekend of conference play

Photo by Gregory Shamus/Getty Images

The conference grind portion of the 2019-20 college basketball season has arrived.

Conference play is here, which means the beautiful nine-week journey that carries us through the otherwise depressing as hell depth of winter has begun. Let’s talk about the 10 biggest things that happened during the first weekend of the grind.

1. Cassius Winston and Michigan State are “back”

In the middle of a season that has been largely defined by the disappointing performances of the teams that were supposed to be the best in the sport, Michigan State exists in its own category. The Spartans were a near-unanimous preseason No. 1 team that lost three of its first eight games and began the New Year without a single victory over a team in the current AP top 25 poll.

Tom Izzo’s team has now won seven straight, a run capped by Sunday’s 87-69 torching of arch-rival and 12th-ranked Michigan. That decisive win came just three days after Sparty put a 76-56 beatdown on an Illinois team with NCAA tournament aspirations.

At the heart of this turnaround (if you want to call it that) has been senior star Cassius Winston, who has now scored 21 or more points and dished out six or more assists in each of his last four games. He gave one of the best performances of his college career on Sunday, lighting up Michigan to the tune of 32 points and nine assists over 38 minutes of floor time.

While Winston and Michigan State were struggling in November and the first half of December, no other player really stepped up and established himself as the early front-runner to win national Player of the Year. Oregon’s Payton Pritchard, Dayton’s Obi Toppin and Duke’s Vernon Carey Jr. have all received their fair share of love, but it’s been more “if you had to pick someone today” love as opposed to “he’s clearly been the best player in the sport” love.

Despite everything that happened in the season’s first eight weeks, Michigan State still seems like a team that is going to be among the three or four trendiest national title picks come March. And now suddenly, it seems like every postseason national Player of the Year award may wind up going to the same guy who picked up each and every preseason honor.

2. The Big East will be the most competitive conference to follow all winter

The “best” conference debate is always a subjective one, but I don’t think there is going to be much pushback this winter against the notion that the Big East title race is going to be the most competitive in college basketball. Of the 10 teams in the conference, there isn’t one at the moment with a fan base that doesn’t have at least mild hope that their team will wind up hearing its name called on Selection Sunday.

No one doubts the legitimacy of teams like Butler, Villanova and Seton Hall, but it’s the bottom half of the league that sets it apart this season. The Big East team with the worst overall record, 9-6 Providence, suddenly has life after reeling off consecutive wins over Texas, Georgetown and DePaul. The three 0-2 teams at the bottom of the league standings — DePaul, Georgetown and St. John’s — all won 10 or more games during the non-conference portions of their season.

After just one week of league play, it’s already apparent how intense every night of Big East play is going to be for the next two months.

Mac McClung has some words for Quincy McKnight and Quincy proceeds to show him the scoreboard, leading to a little fight by the Seton Hall huddle. pic.twitter.com/Hcjln3LaBs

— CBB Talk (@CBBSuperFan) January 4, 2020

If every Big East Friday night winds up being like the first one, they’re going to be worth canceling plans for.

3. San Diego State is still undefeated and is absolutely for real

One of the most well-known active streaks of futility in college hoops is that no team from the Western United States has won the national championship since Arizona last cut down the nets back in 1997. The program most likely to end this drought has always been one of the top tier teams from the Pac-12 or, in recent years, Gonzaga. While the Bulldogs are the current No. 1 team in America and Pac-12 squads like Oregon and Arizona certainly seem capable of playing deep into March, there’s a new legitimate West Coast challenger in 2019-20.

San Diego State is 15-0 and one of just two unbeaten teams remaining in college basketball. The Aztecs have been at their best when the lights have been the brightest this season, smashing Creighton by 31, beating Iowa by 10, blasting Utah by 28, and most recently going on the road and handling preseason Mountain West favorite Utah State with relative ease.

So how did the Aztecs go from a team no one was talking about two months ago to one that now has people asking whether or not they can enter the NCAA tournament without a loss?

For starters, Washington State transfer Malachi Flynn has been one of the best guards in the country. The junior is averaging career-bests in points (15.9 ppg) and assists (5.1 apg), saved SDSU with a shot at the buzzer against San Jose State, and just lit up Utah State All-American candidate Sam Merrill to the tune of 22 points, five rebounds and four assists.

With Utah State going through a little bit of a 2018-19 Nevada funk, San Diego State has emerged as the Mountain West team most worthy of fear from the rest of the country. The Aztecs play the type of team defense — No. 12 in Ken Pomeroy’s adjusted defensive efficiency rankings — that can carry a squad without an obvious draft pick to the second weekend of the NCAA tournament. They’ve also built a solid first half of the year resume that includes five Quadrant 1 wins, which is currently tied for the most in the country. Oh, and the Aztecs are also No. 1 in the NET Rankings at the moment.

The basketball world scrambling to CBS Sports Net to see whether or not Brian Dutcher’s team can keep the dream of an undefeated season alive has the potential to be one of the more fun (and unforeseeable) storylines of the weeks to come.

4. Penn State appears to be (finally) tournament bound

Pat Chambers is the only power conference coach in America to have gone at least eight seasons at a school without a single trip to the NCAA tournament and to still be employed by said school.

It’s looking more and more like the ninth time is going to be the charm for Chambers at Penn State.

Playing a home game at The Palestra in Philly on Saturday, the Nittany Lions notched a significant early Big Ten victory with a thrilling 89-86 take down of No. 23 Iowa. Penn State also knocked off then-No. 4 Maryland last month, giving them two wins over ranked conference foes less than a week into the new year.

Lamar Stevens (16.4 ppg, 7.0 rpg) has been as good as expected for Penn State, but the difference between this year has been the elevated support the senior guard has received. Sophomore Myreon Jones has taken a massive step forward, St. Bonaventure transfer IZaiah Brockington is also averaging double figures, and senior forward Mike Watkins is nearly averaging a double-double and has clearly saved the best basketball for the end of his college career.

Unless something goes horribly awry over these next two months, it appears Penn State’s patience with Chambers is going to be (finally) be rewarded.

5. North Carolina does not

A disaster season for North Carolina found a new bottom on Saturday when the Tar Heels allowed Georgia Tech to come into the Dean Dome and roll to a 96-83 victory. Considering the fact that the Yellow Jackets led 27-4 at the under eight timeout of the first half, Carolina finding a way to score 83 points may have been the most impressive takeaway from the contest.

That note was small consolation to Roy Williams, who didn’t hold back in his postgame press conference.

“I want to apologize to all the North Carolina fans, the people that care about our basketball program, former players, everyone that cares about us,” Williams said. “We stunk it up tonight, and it’s got to me my responsibility. It’s the most negative I’ve ever felt about myself. The most negative I’ve ever felt about any team. We weren’t ready to play.

“If I had any idea what caused that I would have already changed it. It’s the most disappointed and most upset I’ve ever been in my life coaching a basketball game, and it’s not even close.”

Williams need just one victory to pass UNC icon Dean Smith on the career wins list, a monumental event in Chapel Hill that suddenly seems difficult to predict.

While rumors continue to swirl about Cole Anthony’s immediate future, it’s important to remember that the Tar Heels weren’t overly impressive when Anthony was fully healthy and engaged. Even if that soon to be millionaire chooses to come back and finish his one season of college hoops on the court, it may not be enough to keep UNC from missing out on the NCAA tournament for the first time since 2010.

6. Pacific and Saint Mary’s played the best game nobody saw

The best game of the weekend took place well after most of the Eastern half of the United States had gone to bed.

Damon Stoudamire’s Pacific Tigers outlasted visiting Saint Mary’s in a quadruple overtime thriller that featured a massive second half comeback and a banked in three at the buzzer of overtime No. 2 that extended the game.

In what became the most amazing basketball game I have ever seen in person, the Pacific men recorded their biggest win in years vs St Mary’s 107-99 in 4 OT’s! Here is Gary Chivichyan at the buzzer bank a 3 to send it to Triple OT and the crowd into a frenzy. @PacificMensBB pic.twitter.com/F9NMycdt2k

— kurtriveratv (@kurtriveratv) January 5, 2020

“I don’t think I’ve played in a game like that before and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a game like that before,” said Pacific’s Gary Chivichyan, who hit the memorable shot at the end of the second overtime. “That was probably one of the best basketball games I have ever witnessed in my life.”

While Gonzaga, Saint Mary’s and BYU are once again the class of the West Coast Conference, the middle of the league has evolved to a point where games like this one (as well as Pepperdine pushing the Zags to the brink on the same night) are going to become more of the norm.

If the first two months of this season has taught us anything, it’s that West Coast action from the Pac-12, Mountain West and WCC is going to be worth losing sleep for this winter. Not, like, a ton of sleep, but definitely “oh man, I’m moving a little slower than I should be this morning but watching Herb Sendek coach basketball at 1 a.m. was awesome” sleep.

7. Speaking of that ...

As mentioned, Pepperdine pushed No. 1 Gonzaga to the brink late Saturday night. And even when the Zags got things under control, the Waves were able to respond with arguably the best dunk of the weekend.

I did not expect the best dunk of the day in CBB to come from a Pepperdine player, but here we are! pic.twitter.com/KOlrYz7Pft

— Kyle Boone (@Kyle__Boone) January 5, 2020

That’s senior forward Kameron Edwards punching one in right on the head of Corey Kispert. Edwards scored 14 points and snagged 10 boards in the 75-70 loss.

8. This should be the year Duke wins the ACC

One of the more staggering current college basketball facts is that Duke hasn’t even won a share of the ACC’s regular season title since all the way back in 2010. The Blue Devils have been the preseason favorites to win the conference seven times since then and now.

Despite the embarrassing loss to Stephen F. Austin still being relatively fresh in the collective mind of the basketball world, Duke looks a clear cut above the rest of the ACC as we shift into the heart of conference play. The Blue Devils have won their first three league games by a combined 86 points, and two of those contests have been away from Cameron Indoor. They shouldn’t face another significant challenge until Louisville — which looks like less of a threat in the league after it was manhandled at home by Florida State on Saturday — comes to Durham on the 18th.

9. If you’re going to take a bad loss, take it on Friday

The most significant conference upset of the weekend is one that hasn’t warranted a ton of discussion on this Monday. That’s because pretty much nobody was watching it. The lesson, of course, is that if you’re a Big Ten or Big East (or whatever) team looking to bury a woeful performance this winter, make sure it happens on one of those awkward Friday night games on the schedule.

On this most Friday night of the season, Ohio State allowed what had been a super average Wisconsin team to come into the The Schottenstein Center and walk out with a 61-57 upset of the No. 5 team in the country. Buckeye big man Kaleb Wesson was phenomenal (22 points and 13 rebounds), but when Wisconsin committed two or three defenders to shutting Wesson down, no one else for OSU was able to step up as a reliable second scoring option.

Suddenly, an Ohio State team that seemed as rock solid as any squad in the country just a few weeks ago has turned into something of an enigma. They’ll have a chance to answer some of these newly unearthed questions Tuesday night when they hit the road to take on Maryland.

10. The tales of Wichita State’s demise appear to have been greatly exaggerated

After an uncharacteristically subpar 2018-19, Wichita State appears to be back with a vengeance this season. The Shockers destroyed Ole Miss 74-54 on Saturday to improve to 13-1 on the year. Their lone loss is a 12-point defeat at the hands of West Virginia that looks much better now than it did at the time.

With Cincinnati struggling mightily in year one under John Brannen and Memphis losing at home to Georgia and still adjusting to the realization that James Wiseman isn’t coming back, the AAC really needed Wichita State to regain its footing this year. The Shockers are not only stabilized, but they appear to be the class of the conference at the moment.

[ghozt1ng-blog]

Chapter Nine - Breath of the Insane

Naomi and Brandon ran down a pathway, the later gasping for air. He was once again weaponless, after throwing his rock at crawling pile of bones. The stone had been incredible, though. It grew to the size of a boulder in midair and then crushed the bones to dust. But because the crawling bones were so dang slow, it was a waste of a good weapon. Naomi still had Excalibur, but she was concentrating more on running than fighting. The beasts in Breath of the Wild were larger and harder to kill than in the last Zelda game.

    Another problem was that these monsters coming from all sides were definitely not just from this game, but from others as well. She was pretty certain that some even came from books. Weren���t those Cauldron Born coming in from the south? Those kind of undead never stayed dead when you cut them down. There were also two large statues that reminded her of Anubis warriors. Yup, she felt screwed. All they needed now was a sentinel to come running into the mix...  

    Suddenly, a green World of Warcraft orc and a moblin charged at her and Brandon from rise to their right. Brandon just collapsed in the road and begged for it all to end. Naomi snarled and tried to assume a good stance for fighting these monsters. She was not really used to fencing or anything like that. She was at a real disadvantage. The orc reached her first, with the moblin stopping to consider Brandon.

    The orc swung a large battle axe and nearly took off Naomi’s head. She was lucky and managed to dodge it and Excalibur went into the orc’s gut easily. The brute howled and drew back, clutching its stomach. A health bar appeared over its head, and Naomi could see that he had two thirds of his HP still. Grimacing, she went on the offensive, swinging wildly. She managed to score a good number of hits on the orc, who blocked with its axe, but still took damage. Excalibur quickly reduced the enemy to a bloody mess. She turned and saw Brandon in the clutches of the moblin, squealing for help.

    Naomi had half a mind to leave him, but she knew the agents wouldn’t condone her actions. She knew Trick would understand, but his word wouldn’t sway the adults. She heaved a sigh, feeling sore from the exertion and charged the moblin. It pricked Brandon hard, and three hearts popped into being over his head. He was already down half a heart. The moblin grunted with excitement, which turned into a gurgle as Excalibur went through its chest. It let go of Brandon and rounded on Naomi.

The movement wrenched the sword from her hands and she threw herself out of the way to avoid a spear taking her in the throat. She rolled as she landed, and with the adrenaline pumping, she sprinted around the monster. The moblin nearly skewered her again, but managed to get behind him and pull the sword free. She then hacked frantically at the moblin, bringing him down like a sapling.

Brandon gaped at her and then sputtered, “You save my life! I am in your debt! Please, lend me the sword and I’ll repay you!”

“Not on your life,” Naomi spat angrily. “We need to get going. I saw enemies coming after us from all sides earlier. You need a weapon that you can use. Unfortunately, you are not strong enough for that orc’s ax, so take the spear.”

She didn’t bother to check if Brandon was following her instructions or not. She raided the orc’s body of a nice side pouch, that had some medicine and food in it. Even a small, rock grenade. There was a knife too, with a nice belt. Naomi quickly outfitted herself and even took the bloody jerkin. It might help cover at least something. Brandon trotted up beside her with the spear and a rupee in his hand.

“I wonder if I can take this back with me?”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now,” Naomi shouted. “I can’t believe you!”

“Well, I need a good stone for when I propose to you. Naomi, you are incredible,” Brandon said breathlessly.

Naomi responded with a swift kick to the gonads. As Brandon rolled on the ground in agony, she simply said, “Consider that my rejection.”

“Ooooh! She really got him good!”

Agent Miles gave Agent Brown a big smile before seeing the stern look on the other woman’s face. She then adopted a more subdued look, but with a slight smile. Everyone was watching what was happening on the big screen as Brandon and Naomi interacted. What they were saying was displayed on the screen as in-game text. Kyle was quickly working to get the Nintendo Switch operational in order to help them through the game. Meanwhile, Mr. Jackson was comforting his wife.

“It’s okay, dear. See? Brandon is being protected. Soon Kyle will be able to guide him like he did last time.”

“But she kicked him in the balls! What if he never has children,” his wife wailed.

Mr. Jackson looked as though he personally believed his son deserved the treatment but instead said, “I think we just need to concentrate on getting him back to us.”

Agent Brown regretted that her son was not there to see all of this. She knew Trick would have loved to see Naomi kick the winning field goal into Brandon’s nether regions. She had to bite back the smile that threatened to sweep across her face. This whole situation was terrifying, but it was oddly comical. She wondered what her son and Conturbatio were getting up to with the mailbox when suddenly two college students let themselves into the living room.

“Well hello there! We heard the Legend of Zelda music and thought we’d come and see what is going on. We’re really big fans!”

The speaker was a guy with a short beard on his face with baseball cap depicting a tiger. He looked to be dressed in pajama pants. The other guy was tall and lean with smart glasses on his face, and shirt with Cthulhu on it. Agent Brown rested a hand on her gun, while positioning herself against the two intruders.

“Who are you,” she asked sternly.

The bearded one waved and said, “Oh, I’m Nate, and this is Vince. Sorry for barging in, but Zelda always gets us excited.”

“Dang excite,” Vince added.

“Woah, this doesn’t look like the game I remember,” Nate said with astonishment.

“Well, it is different,” Kyle said hesitantly.

“What kind of glitches or codes did you work into this,” Vince asked with awe, getting close to the screen.

“Er… That’s hard to explain,” Kyle muttered under his breath.

“My brother and the girl he likes are stuck in the video game,” Tiffany said loudly.

“Well that would explain the absence of Link,” Nate said with wonder.

Once Kyle got the Switch up and running, he could again control Brandon, and just in time, too. He was nearly gored by a giant boat that had suddenly ridden through. The large Anubis statues also lumbered into view.

“Kyle, don’t let them touch your brother,” Mrs. Jackson shouted.

“I’m trying,” he shot back angrily.

Nate and Vince shared a confused look and then Nate said, “I am actually a really great player at this game myself. If the other character is there to support me, I think I can get this Brandon- Brandon, right? Yeah him, I can get him out of danger.”

Kyle looked relieved and thrust the controllers into Nate’s hands. The college student sat down with a loud fart and started playing. Sure enough, he got Brandon somersaulting out of the way and taking good jabs at the Boar, while Naomi finished it off.

“Sorry, I toot a lot. Better out than in, though, right? Hm, we need to get this character some better weapons. Oh look! There’s an ax back there!”

As Nate moved the grumbling Brandon (“Who’s controlling me? Get them to stop!”), Vince sat himself down and pulled out a laptop. He asked for internet access and quickly got it going.

“Since this is  heavily modified version of the game, Nate, I’m gonna try talking you through some things.”

“Thanks a lot buddy!”

Agent Brown came up, shaking her head. “What are you two doing? Why?”

“We just really like games and we like challenges,” Vince answered. “It also looks important to you, and so we are going to help, even if we don’t normally intrude like this.”

“It’s a blessing,” someone called from the outside.

Mr. Jackson grumbled, “Damn Mormons….”

Vince then produced an energy drink and said, “Nate, here! Energy and sustenance!”

“Thanks pal! Hey kid, can you open this for me?”

Kyle opened the can as someone else shouted through the window, “Jack Mormons! Have you no shame!”

“Why don’t you take your self righteousness and stuff it up your butt? Maybe it’ll finally put you on the straight and narrow,” Vince shouted back. Nate just let loose a loud burp and fart.

Agent Brown now understood why both Agents Miller and Sanchez had emphatically said that they would never move to Utah.

[thecollegefootballguy]

Bizarro Football: An Alternate History of College Football in 2016

Welcome back to Bizarro Football, a look at what would have happened if conference realignment never happened from 2010 onwards.

Check out the previous seasons first if you’d like to catch up: 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015

This post is basically an amalgamation of the various other conference posts I’ve made throughout this (and part of last) off season. Check those out here:

ACC: 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 Big East: 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 Big Ten: 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 Big 12: 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 PAC-10: 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 SEC: 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018

I’ve made some adjustments for games that were never played as well as incorporating the G5 and Notre Dame, but otherwise things haven’t changed from these earlier posts.

So far, the College Football Playoff era has been a mixed bag for Bizarro Football. 2014 went even worse than real life because even fewer deserving teams made the Playoff. Conversely, 2015 went exactly right, picking the 4 most deserving teams to make the field. Let’s see how 2016 stacks up.

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ACC

Atlantic Division

Clemson 13-0 (8-0) Florida State 11-1 (7-1) NC State 8-4 (5-3) Boston College 7-5 (4-4) Maryland 5-7 (1-7) Wake Forest 4-8 (1-7)

Coastal Division

Virginia Tech 9-4 (6-2) Miami FL 9-3 (5-3) North Carolina 7-5 (4-4) Georgia Tech 8-4 (4-4) Virginia 3-9 (2-6) Duke 4-8 (1-7)

ACC Championship Game: Clemson over Virginia Tech

The ACC really hasn’t been altered all that much by conference realignment. I guess because Pittsburgh and Syracuse really didn’t do much outside of 2018, and Louisville just was in the wrong division to matter. I mean, Clemson has had two back to back undefeated regular seasons in this universe, so things have changed a little thanks to avoiding Pitt and Syracuse. Florida State remained rock solid right behind the Tigers, but this was the last year that Jimbo Fisher’s Seminoles would fly so high. As usual, the rest of the conference wasn’t that impressive. Virginia Tech won the Coastal carousel this time around, but the Hokies weren’t impressive enough to seriously threaten either Clemson or FSU.

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Big East

Pittsburgh 9-3 (6-1) Louisville 10-2 (6-1) West Virginia 10-2 (5-2) South Florida 9-3 (5-2) Cincinnati 5-7 (2-5) Syracuse 4-8 (2-5) Rutgers 3-9 (1-6) Connecticut 3-9 (1-6)

Another year, another mediocre Pitt team somehow beats out better Louisville and West Virginia squads to claim the Big East title. God this conference is so depressing. It was a good thing that they lost an automatic bid. Or maybe it’s just a shame that they didn’t get UCF or Houston in this version of the league.

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Big Ten

Ohio State 11-1 (7-1) Michigan 11-1 (7-1) Wisconsin 10-2 (6-2) Northwestern 8-4 (6-2) Penn State 8-4 (5-3) Minnesota 8-4 (4-4) Indiana 6-6 (3-5) Iowa 6-6 (3-5) Michigan State 5-7 (2-6) Purdue 3-9 (1-7) Illinois 1-11 (0-8)

I’m really getting sick of the Big Ten’s antics. For the third year in a row, the league has had two 11-1 co-champions. I’m starting to see the utility of the conference championship game. And the Big Ten was GOOD in 2016. Michigan, Ohio State, Wisconsin, and Penn State all landed in the AP top ten. In this scenario, the Wolverines went 11-0 but just couldn’t close out (and really got jobbed) by the Buckeyes. OSU went unbeaten aside from an upset on the road to Northwestern. This scenario is really unkind to Penn State. The Nittany Lions lost to Wisconsin, Michigan, and Ohio State in back to back to back weeks, and they lost to Pitt because somebody has to get upset by Pitt. That’s enough to knock one of the hottest teams at the end of the year out of the NY6. What a shame.

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Big 12

North

Colorado 10-3 (7-1) Nebraska 9-3 (5-3) Kansas State 8-4 (5-3) Iowa State 4-8 (2-6) Missouri 3-9 (1-7) Kansas 2-10 (1-7)

South

Oklahoma 11-2 (8-0) Oklahoma State 9-3 (6-2) Texas A&M 8-4 (4-4) Baylor 7-5 (3-5) Texas 6-6 (3-5) Texas Tech 6-6 (3-5)

Big 12 Championship Game: Oklahoma over Colorado

After a decade of futility, Colorado once again had their moment in the sun. The Buffaloes tore through the North and briefly became America’s Team. Then Oklahoma came in an rained on their parade. OU was once again the premier Big 12 team, but the Sooners’ 11-2 record likely keeps them out of reach of the Playoff. The league as a whole was down outside of Oklahoma and Oklahoma State, so an at-large bid is somewhat unlikely.

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PAC-10

Washington 11-1 (8-1) Washington State 9-3 (8-1) Stanford 10-2 (7-2) USC 9-3 (7-2) Oregon State 5-7 (4-5) California 5-7 (3-6) Oregon 5-7 (3-6) Arizona State 5-7 (2-7) UCLA 4-8 (2-7) Arizona 3-9 (1-8)

The PAC-10 went from being one of the most consistently good conferences in college football to the bottom of the Power 5 barrel (though thankfully the Big East keeps them from being the absolute worst in this universe). It also kinda sucks not having Utah and Colorado this year. Washington and Washington State both staged uprisings against the previous conference overlords: Oregon and Stanford. The Apple Cup ended up deciding the conference and the Huskies, playing their best season since 2000, take the league crown with their tie-breaking win. USC was the league’s hottest team by the end of the season, but the Trojans’ early struggles will likely keep them out of the Rose Bowl in this scenario.

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SEC

East

Florida 7-5 (5-3) Vanderbilt 7-5 (4-4) Tennessee 7-5 (3-5) Georgia 6-6 (3-5) Kentucky 6-6 (3-5) South Carolina 6-6 (3-5)

West

Alabama 13-0 (8-0) Auburn 10-2 (7-1) LSU 7-4 (5-3) Arkansas 7-5 (3-5) Mississippi State 5-7 (3-5) Ole Miss 4-8 (1-7)

SEC Championship Game: Alabama over Florida

My word the SEC East just did not matter in 2016. It’s not like they were better with Missouri, the Tigers completely collapsed as well. Florida again makes it to Atlanta but they didn’t need to play that Championship Game. In what was probably the league’s weakest season since 2007 or 2006, Alabama just smokes the rest of the conference on their way to the Playoff.

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Notable non-BCS Conference Teams

Memphis 12-1* Western Michigan 13-0*

*conference champions

Row the Boat! Aside from Memphis no other G5 team really mattered aside from Western Michigan. Timing plays a big part in breakthrough seasons, and WMU timed their undefeated run really well.

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Projected CFP Rankings

#1. Alabama 13-0 (8-0) #2. Clemson 13-0 (8-0) #3. Ohio State 11-1 (7-1) #4. Washington 11-1 (8-1) #5. Michigan 11-1 (7-1) #6. Florida State 11-1 (7-1) #7. Auburn 10-2 (7-1) #8. Oklahoma 11-2 (7-1) #9. Wisconsin 10-2 (6-2) #10. Stanford 10-2 (7-2) #11. USC 9-3 (7-2) #12. Oklahoma State 9-3 (6-2) #13. Washington State 9-3 (8-1) #14. Colorado 10-3 (7-1) #15. Western Michigan 13-0 (8-0)

There is a pretty big drop in in quality after the top five or so teams. That and some of the best teams at the end of the season (USC and Penn State) don’t get the proper recognition.

Oh yeah, and with the Rose, Sugar, and Orange Bowls all falling outside of the Playoff rotation, there is only one at-large bid to go around.

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Projected NY6 Games

Orange Bowl: #6 Florida State vs #19 Pittsburgh

This is gonna be a bloodbath. The Panthers have no business being here and Florida State would have a lot of frustration to work out having been outdone by Clemson again. I don’t think Pitt does their Pitt thing in this game and upsets the Seminoles. In real life, FSU did beat a superior Michigan team to end their last good year under Fisher so I can’t imagine the Panthers put up a fight.

Cotton Bowl: #9 Wisconsin vs #15 Western Michigan

This matchup actually took place in real life. Western Michigan’s dream season ended under the crushing heel of a well oiled Wisconsin machine.

Rose Bowl: #5 Michigan vs #10 Stanford

Michigan didn’t get into the Playoff, being passed over in favor of PAC-10 Champion Washington. Instead, the Wolverines get to take it out on Stanford. The Cardinal probably would not have done well in this game, they had a good enough year but USC would have been the proper choice. However, the Trojans’ resume just wasn’t enough to put them ahead of Stanford and so the Cardinal get to represent the PAC-10 in the Rose Bowl. I assume UM wins this one, but it could have been a fun game if Stanford’s offense doesn’t get totally corralled early on. 

Sugar Bowl: #7 Auburn vs #8 Oklahoma

As SEC runner-up, Auburn has the tough task of facing off against Oklahoma in the Sugar Bowl. The Sooners were the better team but this could be a pretty wild game based on the offenses and defenses involved.

Peach Bowl (semifinal): #1 Alabama vs #4 Washington

lol

Fiesta Bowl (semifinal): #2 Clemson vs #3 Ohio State

LOL

Oh hey, the Playoff perfectly matches what happened in real life 2016. Maybe that means it’s working. Not that it would have been too difficult to choose the top 4 teams in this situation.

Clemson wins the national championship I guess.

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So far Bizarro Football is 2 for 3. 2015 and 2016 perfectly match the real life top 4 which also happened to be the 4 correct playoff choices. 2014 was a mess but that whole year made it pretty difficult.