#you can also pinpoint the exact moment he's like 'damn this kid has no balls'

[skyefeys]

replaying dgs1 after completing the second game is kinda funny because you can pinpoint every moment stronghart tries to figure out if he can hire ryunosuke as an assassin

[willel]

On this day, I’d like to talk about my feelings on Season 3.

I know I know. You roll your eyes. You’ve seen me talk about it before. But actually you haven’t. Not totally. If anything, you’ve just seen my inquisitional frustration now and then on how they decided to write it.

Make no mistake, I think Stranger Things 3 is the worst of the 3 seasons. Is it the worst tv ever? Nah.... though this is someone who doesn’t really watch tv other than Stranger Things (more of a reader myself). I usually watch youtubers rip tv shows apart instead.

So based on that, do I think Stranger Things 3 is worse that 13 Reasons Why, Riverdale, or uh.... hm.... oh! the last seasons of Game of Thrones? Well, no.

So how do I truly feel? Weirdly enough, I feel the same as I did when I finished watching it the whole time. I felt like... I was waiting for the ball to drop, episode to episode. I can’t pinpoint exactly what I was waiting for, but whatever it was didn’t come.

I didn’t.... FEEL as much as I did the first 2 seasons? And I felt like that was by design. They didn’t bring in the heartfelt stuff until literally the VERY end and by then, it was too late for me to feel invested in all these characters I genuinely like.

I never truly felt like anyone was in danger, especially not the Scoop Troop. Even as Steve was being tortured and had his daylights knocked out... it was just a *shrug* like moment for me.

Even when Hopper supposedly died.... I was kinda feeling like “meh. I doubt it.”

And I’m not trying to say someone HAS to die for me to feel something. No one died in Season 2 (except Bob) and I was still on the edge of my seat while they were interrogating Will or when they started panicking cause the Mind Flayer found their location. I was concerned that maybe El wouldn’t be able to close that humongous gate and Hopper would get eaten by demodogs before they even made it there. I was worried possessed Will would get loose before they managed to exercise the Mind Flayer and maybeeee he’d die or suffer more or something.

So for months, I guess more than a year now, I’ve just been debating my feelings on things. I’ve come to this conclusion.

Even though I didn’t really like the season overall, there were too many things in the season I did like to make me actually hate it.

Will’s arc that lasted about 3 episodes was off to a great start. I was really looking forward to it until it disappeared.

Murray’s friendship with Joyce... I dunno. I actually really loved that. They’re kinda similarly paranoid investigative people who bother Hopper in their own little way. It’s cute, like they’re long lost siblings.

Even if they laid it on a little thick, El and Max’s friendship was much needed and I’m glad that even though El was still trying to copy Max a little too much, Max was also doing her best to remind El now and then to find herself and no one else.

I like that El is now living with the Byers and that they’re moving away. It makes TOTAL sense that Joyce would pack up and leave Hawkins. Too much shit has gone down there, she needed to go for her and her kids sake + El.

Even though I wish the resolution had been different, Jonathan and Nancy clashing due to their backgrounds (being a woman vs being poor) was very interesting to me. I would’ve loved to have more of it. Not more arguing, just more talking about it other than the apology.

I love love love, first of all, Lucas reaching out to Will multiple times after the huge blow up trying to make amends. Some of it is in the background. And that CUTE HUG AT THE END. I love Will and Lucas. <3 Lucas is such a good friend even with a few screw ups there and there.

Jonathan for at least a second taking the big brother role for El and trying to cut that thing out of her leg. Trying to reassure her it’s gonna hurt but it’s gotta be done. So sweet even if gross

And then there’s the things I didn’t like that just... brought down my mood. Here’s a few.

Hopper was just... look. I don’t hate his character. I see this solely as a writing issue, not necessarily a character issue. I feel we could’ve ended up with the exact same plot if we cut out about 50% of Hopper’s snark. I get being overprotective of El and the old “Dad hates the boyfriend jokes”. Whatever. Would’ve been better if Mike ACTUALLY screwed up all by himself and Hopper was just enjoying the moment rather than Hopper being the cause of it.

And I get the whole Hopper really wanting to date Joyce stuff, but... I just can’t see how we go from season 1 and season 2 Hopper who was ready to throw hands with his deputies for implying Joyce was crazy. And the Hopper that really truly completely understood what Joyce was going through (anxiety,depression, and loss). How did that guy turn into someone trying to rush Joyce’s mourning along (after he mourned for his daughter for like, 6 years) and him being the one implying she’s crazy? It’s just weird. I can’t deal. It’s WEIRD.

No Jonathan and Will scenes. They’re finally on the adventure together and there’s still NOTHING. In the mall, Will is damn near having a panic attack hardly able to keep quiet and JONATHAN DOESN’T EVEN GLANCE IN HIS DIRECTION

No Jonathan and Joyce scenes. Mother and son who?

No Nancy and Mike scenes. They didn’t do it for season 2. Surely they won’t forget this time and give the siblings some screen time??? Nope. Bet 75% of the fandom forgot they’re even related.

No Max and Billy scenes. Not a fan of Billy, but Billy is her step brother. Why the hell wouldn’t the writing put a little more focus on that? Surely Max would be more suspicious of Billy acting weird or even nice to her? Surely they’d give her more moments of showing... something over the fact that her step brother is the big bad?

No Will and El scenes. Obviously I’d be annoyed at this. But you’d think the monster radar and the psychic girl would be butting their heads together a bit more to figure out what’s going on? This ties into Will’s evil senses only working 5 minutes too late. How did he sense the Mind Flayer smoke from 10 miles away, but now he can’t sense the huge flesh monster until it’s a couple meters above him?? No logical sense.

Complete erasure of Kali. I didn’t miss the fact that when El was having flashbacks of her mom, they pretty much cut out any mention or thought of Kali. Surely after that heartfelt goodbye, El would at least think of Kali for a moment and get distracted. She decidedly hid the fact that Kali exists from everyone else, wouldn’t it be nice if we saw her character still thinking about that secret from time to time??

And the final point that I feel like typing out tonight, too much focus on El. And I don’t mean it in the way you’re probably thinking. I mean that basically NO ONE is able to save El. EVER. She has to do everything up until the final moment. Mike and the gang isn’t allowed to save El from Billy choking her out. She ends up having to save them. No one can save El from the flesh eating vagina monster. She has to defend herself completely. Jonathan isn’t allowed to get the worm thing out of her leg, she has to pull it out herself. Mike and Max can’t do anything to protect her from Billy again. They all fail and she yet again has to save herself.

Ok, that’s all I wanted to say.

ST3 is like a..... 45 / 55 scale for me, and the 55 is the bad part.

[tristinai]

WIP Meme

Tagged by the awesome @mordinette to share some of what I have been working on. Not sure yet if I will do anything with this, tbh. This is a Reed900 fic I have been writing. Takes place October 7th, 2040. After my other fic Russian Roulette. Enjoy :)

Gavin frowns as he scrutinizes his appearance in the bathroom mirror for what feels like the fiftieth time in as many minutes. He gingerly brushes his fingertips against the bit of silver that’s dotting his hairline. Thirty-eight fucking years old. If he’s honest with himself, he’s half-surprised he’s made it this long.

“Don’t see why the fuck we have to go to some uptight, snooty restaurant. Coulda picked any old bar, woulda been just as good, babe,” Gavin grumbles.

In truth, he’s not at all looking forward to spending a night of drinking overpriced champagne and ordering off a menu where he can’t pronounce half the shit on it. If he had it his way, they’d be drinking beers at Finnegan’s with Miller and Chen or spending the night in watching some of the classics. However, with the way things have been between him and Nines lately, he doesn’t want to complain too much, lest he hurt his boyfriend’s feelings.

Nines appears behind him and Gavin catches his boyfriend’s gaze in the mirror. All his displeasure melts away as he sees what the ex-gangster is wearing: the dark suit vest fits snugly on his chest, outlining his pectorals. His powder-blue tie makes his gray eyes look brighter behind his thick glasses and Gavin can already feel the stirrings of desire pool in his abdomen.

Huffing in amusement, Nines forces Gavin to turn around, leans in close enough that the detective catches his familiar cologne, and begins to fix Gavin’s messy tie. “Tonight is a night worth celebrating. I was unable to be with you last year. I want tonight to be...special.”

Nines’ lips pull in a tiny frown and Gavin also feels discomfort at the reminder of how things were between them the year before. He remembers being completely miserable that night, going on month two of life after Nines, and getting completed wasted at a nearby gay bar with Tina. At some point, he ditched her to get his cock sucked by someone whose name he can’t remember and Tina lost her shit on him the next day since she spent the rest of the night trying to find out where the hell he was. He can’t even be sure if he felt shittier about hooking up or for bailing on her but he had to spend the next month getting his best-friend-cred back.

Feeling guilty once again, Gavin forces a grin on his face. “This why you got me all dressed up to the ‘nines’?”

Nines smirks. “I like to think of it as, ‘taking out the trash’.”

“Ouch, babe.”

Pressing in close, Nines grasps Gavin by the hip, noses along the edge of his jaw. The detective’s breath hitches and he can’t help it, is craving more of the ex-gangster’s touch. His pulse racing, he slides a hand up the back of Nines’ neck, exhales shakily when his boyfriend’s lips ghost against his. But the god damn tease doesn’t even try to kiss him, chuckles as he gets Gavin worked up.

“If you are attempting to unwrap your ‘gift’ before we make it out of the penthouse, you will be sorely disappointed,” he says, pulling back when Gavin tries to press their lips together.

Gavin makes a face, tries to tug Nines back closer so he can finally steal that fucking kiss. “C’mon, babe. It’s my god damn birthday! Doesn’t that mean you’re my slave for a day or some shit like that?”

“Is that what you want?” Nines asks, bemused.

“Fucking right it is.”

Nines disentangles himself from Gavin’s embrace. And he laughs. A loud, throaty laugh. Gavin glares at him.

“It is rather endearing that you think in a slave/master role play, I would be the slave.”

“No, not—it’s just a thing people do! Like, you need to be nice to me and shit. And we do whatever the fuck I want because...you know, it’s my birthday.”

“We do whatever it is you want every day,” Nines points out.

No, Gavin thinks, with a hint of bitterness. We actually don’t.

It’s been going on for some time now, this growing rift between them. Gavin can’t pinpoint the moment it started but he recently began to notice that Nines is around a lot less. Random lunch breaks where his boyfriend pops in occur less and less frequently and most days of the week, Gavin’s already snoring away in their bed when Nines finally crawls in beside him. Nines is usually gone before Gavin wakes up and Gavin’s lucky if he gets to spend any part of his evening, or his days off, with the ex-gangster. He doesn’t want to complain, though, because this was the exact reason many of his exes had left him or cheated on him back when he was in his 20s and Gavin doesn’t want to be that kind of asshole who tells his boyfriend to choose between him and his job.

Still...why in the fuck does Nines even give a shit about Cyberlife? After Chloe fucked with both of them, he’d think Nines would want little to do with the company when he can help it. Then again, maybe it’s because of his upgrades that Chloe’s got him by the balls and makes him attend all those press releases and conference calls with her.

When it comes to sex, well, that’s still happening. And it’s still fucking fantastic. But Gavin selfishly wishes he can have more of Nines to himself.

Nines seems to notice the mood Gavin’s slipped into and gently takes him by the hand. “I know I have not been around as much lately. However, after tonight, I hope you will see how serious I am about us, darling.”

Gavin’s gaze drops to where his hand sits in Nines’, the ring we wears glowing yellow. He then stares up at his boyfriend, mystified by what he could possibly mean.

Nines’ phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket. “The driver is here.”

“We’re not taking your Aston Martin?”

Damn. Gavin was hoping Nines would let him drive it again, at least before he spends the night tossing back champagne.

“We both intend on drinking tonight so I have made use of company resources.”

“Chloe let you have the limo? You’re really going all out.”

He lets Nines tug him out of the bathroom, his boyfriend lacing their fingers together as he leads them to the elevator. Socks is running across the floor and weaves through Nines’ legs as he chases after a ball he’s flicking around, the bell on his collar chiming. The cyborg makes a face.

“Now I have cat hair on my pants.”

He begins to reach for the lint roller on the stand near the elevator.

“No time, babe.”

Gavin pulls his boyfriend inside with him. Nines attempts to leave but the detective won’t let him. “Gav—”

He kisses him heatedly,  Nines’ protests dying against his lips. Almost immediately, his boyfriend is responding, parting his lips to allow Gavin to slide their tongues together. It’s wet, wanton, and completely filthy and has the detective so hard by the time the elevator reaches the first floor, he has to bite back a whine to go back upstairs and finish what they started.

“We will be late for our reservation,” Nines says, a splash of color on his cheeks. He adjusts himself, even has to take off his fogged up glasses and wipe off the lenses. He’s using his Niles voice now, sounds all him prim and proper. “Come, darling.”

Gavin smirks to himself. He loves mussing up Nines’ hair, doing anything to bring some of his chaos to the cyborg’s perfectly put together appearance. Nines’ vanity is something that hasn’t changed; if anything, with the new, gorgeous face he wears, has the ex-gangster constantly preening since any time he steps out, he might be called in for impromptu press releases or meetings with potential Cyberlife investors.

Gavin’s really gonna have to talk to Chloe about cutting his boyfriend some fucking slack. Not that she would even take his calls. But it’s fucking ridiculous that even tonight, after being assured multiple times Nines has the night off, Gavin still feels anxious that Nines might be called away in the middle of their dinner.

He buries that uncomfortable feeling as they step outside. At least the weather’s nice, with only the hint of a breeze. A white limo sits outside the condominium entrance.

“Good evening, Mr. Deckert!”

“Ralph...” The ex-gangster starts, his tone highly critical. As Ralph practically falls out of the driver’s seat, his hat askew, Nines’ eyes narrow. “Do I want to ask how you ended up in such a state?”

Ralph grins widely, straightens up, and bounces on the balls of his feet. Pieces of colorful confetti stick to his hair and clothing, and streamers curl around his arms and legs as if the poor kid lost an epic fight against a pile of decorations. But it does little to dampen the kid’s mood. If anything, he seems more excitable than usual. “It’s the detective’s birthday! So Ralph helped!”

He all but throws open the door of the limo, smiling from ear-to-ear as Gavin and Nines peer inside. Colorful streamers, confetti, and balloons are strewn haphazardly across the floor and seats in an uncoordinated disaster, an uneven garland that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY already half falling where it is suspended from the roof. The disapproval has Nines glaring incredulously at Ralph, who still looks far too pleased with himself.

“Ralph...”

Gavin hears the dangerous edge in his boyfriend’s voice and knows the ex-gangster is two seconds away from losing his shit on his ‘personal assistant’.

“It’s fucking great!” Gavin says, clapping Ralph’s shoulder enthusiastically. “Best fucking gift I got all day!”

Ralph’s eyes widen and he swears the kid’s almost having a heart attack from receiving such praise. It’s all the warning Gavin has before Ralph’s throwing his arms around the detective and hugging him tightly. Gavin grunts because damn, the kid’s got quite the grip, but then he’s awkwardly hugging Ralph back.

“Ralph knew the detective would like it!”

With an irate sigh, Nines says, “We have a reservation, Ralph.”

Pulling back, Ralph makes a face. Something strikes Gavin very odd about the expression he wears. “Ralph liked RK better before the change.”

...what the fuck does that mean?

Nines’ face is unreadable and Gavin can’t explain it but there’s something almost unsettling about the way the two stare at each other. Then, the ex-gangster’s lips curl in a sneer and he says, with quiet admonishment, “Ralph, you know we do not talk of Cyberlife affairs outside of Cyberlife.”

Ralph looks as if he has more that he wants to say but instead, the kid falls into a quiet anger, shutting the door behind Gavin as he gets in after Nines. Nines makes a show of swiping off confetti from his seat before he settles stiffly onto the leather.

“What the hell was that about?” Gavin asks.

“Ralph is still upset that Chloe had to shut RK down,” Nines says, nonchalantly. “He was strangely attached to that machine.”

His gut is telling him that there’s more to it than that but Gavin notes the way Nines’ hands curl into fists on his lap. Whatever Ralph meant, it’s enough that all the warning signs are there for an argument and it’s one that Gavin’s in no mood to get into, especially when he really doesn’t give a shit about some creepy ass robot. The less of them in the world, the better.

[junker-town]

SB Nation Reviews: The Skyhook

Photo by Focus on Sport via Getty Images

PERFORMANCE: 9.7

STYLE: 8.9

OVERALL: 9.3

Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s skyhook was unstoppable, even when you knew it was coming. Left leg sweeping across the lane, ready to root itself to the ground like a tree trunk. Right leg bending 90 degrees at the knee, suspended in mid-air. Right arm tucking behind the head before slowly unfurling straight in the air. Left arm raising to protect the inside of the ball ball, then sweeping down into your air space like a floating shield. The same thing, every damn time. And every time, the defense was hopeless.

PERFORMANCE: 9.7

We can’t pinpoint the exact percentage Abdul-Jabbar shot on his patented move, since his heyday predates the internet itself. Our best guess comes via one intrepid blogger named “LamarMatic” who tracked all of Abdul-Jabbar’s skyhooks from the 1983 playoffs. He played in 15 playoff games that season, including 10 against Hall of Fame centers Artis Gilmore and Moses Malone. The results: an even 50 percent on skyhooks while scoring 1.06 points per possession. (For comparison, only two teams scored at least a point per possession on post-up plays during the 2019-20 season). Those efficiency numbers seem like a conservative estimate for his entire body of work, given Abdul-Jabbar’s age (he was 35, the oldest player in the playoffs) and the quality of competition he faced.

Abdul-Jabbar claims nobody has ever blocked his skyhook head-on. “Maybe a few people got to it, coming to help where I couldn’t see them, but if I knew where someone was, that person was not going to block that shot, because I always got my body in between them and the ball before I released the ball, and it’s impossible to get to it,” Abdul-Jabbar told then-ESPN writer J.A. Adande. He’s wrong that nobody blocked the skyhook — here’s a clip of Wilt Chamberlain swatting the skyhook twice in one play, and here’s one of Ralph Sampson doing the deed — but he certainly captured the feeling any opponents had at the time. It felt unblockable, and there’s nothing more demoralizing than a move that has no defensive counter.

The most important reason the skyhook became unstoppable is also the most boring: Abdul-Jabbar is tall. He was listed at 7’2, but he played much bigger than that. When he fully extended his right arm and leaped into the air off his left foot, he could reach higher than any human ever could. He once told astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson that his release point on the skyhook was “about 10 feet to 11 feet in the air.” That seems about right.

Crucially, Abdul-Jabbar still had the arm strength to give the shot some arc while spinning it off his middle and index fingers. That separates the skyhook from a more traditional jump hook, which tends to be shot on the way up and lacks the soft backspin of the skyhook. It’s easier to think of the skyhook as a one-handed, one-legged, sideways jump shot released at 11 feet, where nobody could block it.

Getting to that point was the key. As Abdul-Jabbar told Adande: “When you shoot it, you force people to wait for you to go up. And if they wait until I started to shoot it then they’d have to judge the distance and time it, and it’s gone before they can catch up to it.”

That all happens because of two other key elements of the move. The first is that wide lefty step across the lane, which creates that barrier between Abdul-Jabbar’s body and the defender. The best way to disrupt the hook is to force him to take that step backward and at an angle, throwing him off-balance. If you made that leg look like this, you had a chance.

Photo by Rich Pilling/NBAE via Getty Images

But that rarely happened. Because Abdul-Jabbar made it a point to step through defenders instead of around them, his left leg stood straight up like an oak tree. They were stuck yielding him space, like so.

Or falling back when the full force of his weight ricocheted off their sides.

That leads us to the final hidden key of the skyhook’s effectiveness: that off arm. Say you do everything perfectly as a defender. You pushed Abdul-Jabbar out on the block. You didn’t let him easily use his left leg to power through you. You’re in his space as much as you possibly can be. Your arm is extended outward to alter the shot. Even if you do all that, you still have no chance to block the shot because Abdul-Jabbar’s other arm is sweeping downward to swipe you away.

Photo by Andrew D. Bernstein/NBAE via Getty Images

Photo by Focus on Sport/Getty Images

Abdul-Jabbar’s success in hiding that off-arm is the most underrated reason why the skyhook has faded into obscurity. Imagine Abdul-Jabbar replicating that very motion over and over in a world where any fan can slow down high-definition video and point out uncalled offensive fouls. Consider the uproar James Harden gets for his own foul hunting, especially on drives to the basket. That noise would be 10 times louder for Abdul-Jabbar’s skyhook. The league would legislate that motion out of the game with a snap of the finger.

That’s at least a more plausible explanation for the shot’s demise than the OK Boomer-style ones Abdul-Jabbar himself offers. At first, he blamed kids emulating high-flyers like Michael Jordan and Julius Erving. From a 1988 New York Times profile:

‘’One main reason is the kids growing up today all want to be like Michael Jordan and Dr. J and Dominique,’’ he said, referring to Julius Erving and Dominique Wilkins. ‘’They want to show great and obvious athletic ability and jump high and shoot jumpers and throw the ball down.’’

Nowadays, he redirects the same argument to different kinds of players.

“Everyone is so enamored with the three-point shot. So the kids, they don’t want two points. They don’t want to work with their back to the basket. That’s not cool. They want to go out there in the stratosphere and shoot three-pointers.”

Has Abdul-Jabbar ever considered that the reason people don’t shoot hook shots anymore isn’t because it’s not cool, but because it’s impossible for anyone else to put together all the elements necessary to make it a great shot? Speaking of ...

STYLE: 8.9

I’ve never understood the argument that the skyhook isn’t cool. Are these people out of their minds?

Interviews with a half-dozen coaches revealed many of the same answers. The game has changed. It’s a tough shot to learn. It’s not cool. “Teams just don’t walk it up and drop it in the post anymore,” said Pelicans coach Alvin Gentry. Added Thunder assistant coach Mark Bryant: “You aren’t going to get any commercials shooting the skyhook. Only [Kareem] got commercials shooting the skyhook.”

[...]

“The kids don’t like doing it,” Bryant said, laughing. “It kind of boils down to that.”

Lest you think it’s just a few grumpy coaches, even Shaquille O’Neal admitted his generation “likes to be a lot cooler.”

Which hook shot do you think looks cooler? This ...

Or this?

Which shot do you try more when shooting around? It sure as hell ain’t O’Neal’s.

Abdul-Jabbar’s even has an incredible name: skyhook. That’s the term Bucks broadcaster Eddie Doucette used to describe the iconic shot Abdul-Jabbar made to win Game 6 of the 1974 NBA Finals.

It’s a bit misleading to say that moment was the first usage of the term, as is legend. There’s audio of Doucette using it all the way back in 1970, and you can also hear Pat Summerall (yes, that Pat Summerall), saying “The sky hook is good!” on the TV call. Regardless, read Doucette’s explanation for how he coined the term and tell me this doesn’t sound dope as hell. (Emphasis mine):

“When he went to that baseline and went up for that shot, it was kind of almost eye level with me,” Doucette said. “It felt that way. Everything became slow-motion when he went up for that shot on the baseline. Took it in stride. Went up off his left leg. Perfect balance. Right hand fully extended. Ball on the fingertips. Launched that shot. And as he launched it, it just hit me. ‘That ball is coming out of the sky. That’s a skyhook.’ That’s how it happened. I never gave it any thought. But I had to be in a position where I was located that would inspire me to think that it would be coming out of the sky.”

The idea that the skyhook isn’t cool, then, never sat with me. The real issue is Abdul-Jabbar wasn’t considered cool, not the shot itself. The shot itself is a thing of beauty. As Oscar Robertson once said, ‘’It’s almost a ballet-type shot. There’s so much rhythm and balance in it. It’s almost like a pirouette.”

I’m more sympathetic to the idea that the skyhook isn’t as “macho,” to use Abdul-Jabbar’s words, as a slam dunk or a power move. The idea that one can perfect the skyhook if they just devoted enough attention to it cuts two ways. The shot may look beautiful, but a supremely athletic and strong dude might feel that he doesn’t need to resort to such tricks to do his thing.

This is the same phenomenon that explains why several all-time greats and peers were slow to accept Stephen Curry’s brilliance even as the masses quickly embraced him. His technique was impeccable, but his physical stature seemed ordinary. He didn’t look the part of a superhero. He was no giant.

Like Curry, Abdul-Jabbar’s signature move was to shoot over defenders, not shove them out of the way. But unlike Curry, Abdul-Jabbar did seem like a giant compared to everyone else. Perhaps it would have been more “macho” if he used that physical advantage to plow through his opponents rather than use finesse to succeed. Maybe that’s what O’Neal and others mean when they suggest the skyhook isn’t “cool.”

But if that’s how NBA players really define “cool,” consider me the opposite of Miles Davis. If NBA players could look this iconic shooting a hook shot, I think they’d all do it.

OVERALL: 9.3

Basketball is a technical sport, not a physical one. The best players look like artists and dancers, not boulders. Even Zion Williamson defies our imaginations because of his agility at his size, not because of his body type.

So let this be a call to give the skyhook more love. Instead of grumbling that nobody uses it anymore, let’s appreciate how lucky we were that Abdul-Jabbar made it look so flawless.

[sky-girls]

When reality hits you

Well this chapter is kinda short and kinda pointless but I hope you guys like it Find the rest of the chapters here

The moment she stands on her two feet right outside of the hospital she feels weird, she doesn’t know why or how exactly but she feels weird. She feels weird the whole car ride, she feels weird waiting on the car with Gastón while Matteo goes to the pharmacy, she feels weird when she hears the sound of keys opening the door and she feels weird when she enters Matteo’s apartment.

He and Gastón are both smiling softly and kindly at her the whole time, Gastón cracks some jokes she genuinely laughs at, Matteo says things that makes her roll her eyes at him and want to punch him as usual, but the feeling of having a pressure on her chest, the feeling of being able to hear every little nose, feel every little move, never really leaves her. She is too aware of everything and at the same time she has trouble processing it all, the world slows down in such a way that every seconds feels like an eternity. And her own brain has become somehow slower, not being able to catch up with all the information it’s getting to it.

She doesn’t know why and it’s not like she is not happy for leaving the hospital, she truly is but that happiness has been shoved to the back by a feeling she doesn’t recognize, she would say it’s anxiety but she has no reasons to be anxious, all she has wanted for all this time is to leave that damned hospital. Why would she even be anxious about it?

“You don’t mind do you?” Matteo asks and she needs a second to search her mind and realize he has been talking about how she will have to sleep on the couch. She looks at it, she won’t have any problems to sleep on it, it’s big enough for an average sized person and she is way below average in that sense.

“No, not at all. “She says truthfully and he smiles. He seems so calm and that only makes the pressure on her chest get heavier and heavier.

“Well, kiddos.” Gastón says from the door. “I gotta go to work but I will come back later bearing fast food.”

“Don’t you have work today too?” She asks turning to Matteo, she remembers him saying that him and Gastón have the exact same shift.

“I asked for some time to take care of you.” He tells her ignoring Gastón’s awwing on the background. “Which reminds me that Tamara actually wants to meet you too.”

“Tamara?” She asks trying to ignore the panicked feeling of more people that comes to her.

“She is our  boss.” He says and Gastón nods. “Her and Juliana.”

“But Juliana is like the boss boss.” Gastón explains which actually doesn’t help at all. “So we don’t see her that much, which is good because she scares me.”

“She’s cool.” Matteo says rolling his eyes. “Scary but cool.”

“If you ask me she is just scary.” Gastón mumbles. “But whatever, I need to leave.”

“Good luck, bro.”Mateo says and she waves as the door.

Once the door closes silence fills the room and awkwardness starts making itself present in the air, she looks at Matteo saying nothing and he just sort of smiles at her, not talking either.

“You didn’t have to take the day off.” She mumbles, looking straight into the wall behind him and not his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone in the first day you were out of the hospital or week actually.” He says sitting down on the couch and patting the spot next to him for her to sit down, she hesitates for a second but does it. “Besides I need to make sure you won’t steal anything and run with it.”

“And where would I even go?” She asks, relieved that the familiar teasing tone is back, she feels a little bit of the pressure on her chest go away. “Back to the hospital?”

“I don’t know.” He chuckles. “Maybe this whole thing was just a scam to get all of my money.”

“Shit, you figured it out.” She pretends to be shocked. “Please don’t tell the police I didn’t manage anyway, I wouldn’t survive in jail.”

“You are too cute.” He agrees and she blushes a little. “They would chew you up and then spit you out.”

“Hey!” She exclaims offended. “I’m not that defenseless, okay?”

“Whatever you say, cucciola.” He says putting emphasis on the last word making her pout and cross her arms over her chest.

“I’m not a puppy.”  She says, with a yawn interrupting the middle of her complaints, stupid medications making her sleepy in the middle of the day.

“You so are. “He says flicking her nose, making her scrunch it. He stands going who knows where and leaves her sitting on the couch.

She looks around, the place is tidy and organized, it’s not too full of stuff but not too empty, the windows are wide and perfect to see the beautiful landscape that is Buenos Aires from a fifteenth floor. She doesn’t really know if it fits Matteo, she doesn’t know him that much but it somehow clicks. She yawns again.

She can hear Matteo somewhere in the house, moving some stuff but she has no idea what he is doing, she lays on the couch, she doesn’t think he would mind if she decides to take a small nap.

She is really tired for some reason, maybe the weird sensorial experience of actually going out to the real world even for a while after being trapped in a place that’s basically stopped in time.

She closes her eyes and she thinks she feels Matteo’s footsteps come to the living room and a blanket being softly thrown over her before he walks away to some other place but she can’t be sure. She curls up on herself, trying to find a more comfortable position when she does she finally falls into a deep sleep.

He doesn’t really registers it at first, he is not used to taking care of people so he doesn’t have immediate reactions to this kind of stuff, he hears it but he doesn’t stop cooking, not until the whimpers become louder and he finally fully remembers that there’s a girl sleeping on his couch.

He turns off the stove and quickly leaves the kitchen, terrified that something bad happened to her and he has to drive her to drive her to the hospital right this second. Once he gets to the living room he finds her curled up into a ball on the couch, she is frowning and shaking a little. Kati told him she tends to get nightmares, she doesn’t know what about, forgets them as soon as she opens her eyes but apparently they are bad enough to leave her shaking and crying after them.

He is not sure if the not waking up someone also applies for nightmares and not just sleepwalking but just to be sure he just sits next to her, she has curled up small enough that he has no problems fitting in the space between her head and the armrest, she lets out a small sob, the kind of sob that breaks your heart with how heartfelt it is.

She curls up even more, hugging herself and bringing the blankets closer to her body, he sits closer to her, lifting her head softly, resting it in his lap and moving her fingers through her hair.

She sobs again and this time he can feel the way her body shakes completely before the tears go back to falling silently through her cheeks, he has no idea what to do or how to do it, he wants her to calm down, to go back to the peaceful sleep she had for the last hour, seeing her like this breaks his heart. Her nose is red, her cheeks are too except on those places the tears have left their mark s they run down them, she looks so small, so lost, so broken.

It’s so easy sometimes to forget how hard this whole thing must be for her, she is always so cheerful, always so ready to laugh with him but not only has she lost everything she has she also can’t remember it which means that as for now she has absolutely no way to get it back.

Matteo idly wonders if there’s something for her to come back at all but doesn’t take the question too seriously, everyone has someone or something and he can’t imagine such a bright, full of life girl being the exception.

She stirs a little in his lap and looks up at him blinking slowly, as soon as she realizes her position she sits, cleaning the tears away with the back of her hand and looking straight into the turned off tv, he wants to hug her but he doesn’t want to startle her either so he just sits closer to her.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He says, he lifts his hand but to be honest he has no idea what he is going to do with it so he just lets it fall back into the couch. She doesn’t answer, she just hugs herself, taking deep breaths through her mouth. He can’t handle it anymore, he hugs her.

She crumbles into his arms, hiding on his chest as she starts crying violently, he rubs soothing circles on her, humming softly the melody of a song his mother used to sing to him when he was a little kid and had nightmares too.

“I’m so sorry.” She mumbles after a while, pulling away, blushing a little.

“It’s okay.” He repeats taking his hand to her cheek, wiping the leftover tears off with his thumb. “If anyone in this world has a right to have nightmares that you.”

She smiles softly at him, it’s barely even a lift of the corner of her lips but still a full smile in her green eyes, he moves his thumb on her cheek again, this time meaning it as a caress.

“I don’t  even remember them, you know?” She asks softly, her voice strained with the effort to not burst into tears once again. “I just wake up feeling dizzy,with this awful feeling in my chest and this huge head ache and I just…I can only start crying and it’s ridiculous but…”

He hugs her again, holding her close to his chest, he can’t even begin to understand how she is feeling, maybe it’s because she is not the most articulate person right now but even if she could pinpoint her feelings perfectly and express them with just the right words he doesn’t think he could put himself on her place.

“Hey, are you hungry?” He asks pulling away and she just nods. “I was cooking some pasta, I was almost done actually so you can set the table if you feel like it.”

She stands up a little shaky but with a smile, he does the same and walks to the kitchen, hearing her footsteps behind him.

Once they are in the kitchen he goes back to his forgotten bolognese and lets her open all s cupboard and drawers as she takes what she needs as well as does some little exploring.

It’s weird to be doing something so domestic with someone else, he has never lived with anyone before, as soon as he finished school he managed to get an apartment alone knowing he appreciates his space more than he does company. And now he is willingly bringing someone into his space. As weird as it feels he doesn’t regret it nor he thinks that she will be any kind of bother or trouble, he will need to get used to it but somehow he doesn’t think it will be that hard.

He serves the plates and carries them to the table where Lu is already seated,  she doesn’t look out of place either. The more time passes they more sure they can make this work somehow.

“Hey.” He start, calling her attention. “Gastón wants to bring his girlfriend over tonight. “

She just nods at him and he is left waiting for an answer while she looks like she is expecting him to continue talking.

“So…” She prompts, taking a very big amount of pasta and shoving it on her mouth. He smiles amused, making her blush a little.

“So I wanted to ask you if you were okay with it.” He says and she looks at him confused.

“Why?” She asks frowning a little.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you.” She smiles at him and he feels a slight warm spread on his chest, he ignores it. “Do you think you will be okay with it? “

She looks down thoughtful, playing with her food and moving it around the plate absent mindedly, he is more than ready to tell Gastón not to come at all tonight when she looks up a small, hesitant smile on her face.

“Sure why not?” She shrugs a little awkwardly. “I gotta meet more people at some point anyway. “

“Are you sure you can handle it?” He asks softly.

“Is she nice?” She asks back.

“She is one of the sweetest people you’ll ever met.” He tells her, conveniently ignoring the fact that she is also one of the most curious ones too. He is a little bit worried about this but this is Nina and unlike her boyfriend she has some tact so probably  the awkward questions won’t start until the second time they meet.

“Then, yeah, I’m sure.”

He is late, he is so fucking late, actually he is a very normal amount of late for someone who is not familiar with the city or it’s streets or basically anything in the country but he doubts that Ámbar will care about it. He walks as fast as he can, searching for the number he has carefully memorized because Ámbar made him delete the message with the address as soon as possible.

He has no idea why she is so paranoid about this or where she is taking him, he has no idea of anything actually except for the fact that Luna is probably in some sort of trouble and he will do everything in his power to help her, even walk blindly around this whole situation only being lead by a woman he doesn’t fully trust.

He reaches the building he is supposed to get to and sees her leaning against it glaring at anything that’s close to her, he comes into her line of vision and she glares at him, with much more intensity than before.

“You are late.” She says as a greeting and he smiles sheepishly at her.

“I got lost.” He explains and she just rolls her eyes at him before opening the door of the building and walking in, leaving him behind.

He hurries to the door before it closes and then to the elevator where she already is.

“So where are we?” He asks and she just ignores him.

She never even hinted at what they will be doing at this place but so far it only looks like any other apartment building  on any city.He continues staring at her as she continues to ignore his question until the elevator’s doors open, she walks out, still not looking at him and he is left racing after her, feeling like a lost puppy.

She knocks softly on a door and he stands behind her, he figures there’s no point on asking anything now, the answers will come soon. He sees the doorknob twist and then a blonde woman smiling kindly at them.

He needs a second to notice but it’s undeniable how alike this woman and Ámbar are, the older blonde looks much more worn down, something that doesn’t seem to be only about the age, he throws one quickly look at her arms, all if  her inner arms are full of small scars in the form of tiny dots. He looks back up her eyes before she notices.

“You are here early.” She comments after hugging Ámbar, Simón sends her an annoyed look and she only smiles.

“Hi, I’m Simón.” He says kindly, seeing that Ámbar won’t introduce them.

“Hi, I’m Valeria.” She greets him, gesturing at them to get into the apartment. “Ámbar’s mom.”

He makes a conscious effort not to look at Ámbar, but his eyes never leave Valeria and he notices the unsure glance she throws in her daughter directions. If he didn’t know what was happening before he has absolutely no idea now but Ámbar obviously doesn’t want to tell this story or dwell on it in any way and he has to respect her wishes, no matter how much he wants to ask.

“And this.” She says when they reach the living room, finding a man around the same age as Valeria, sitting on the couch and dozing off in front of the tv. “Is Alejandro.”

“You can call me Ale.” He says standing up a little too quickly wanting to pretend he wasn’t sleeping at all. “And who are you ? Who did little queen A brought to our humble home?”

Simón sends a look at Ámbar that nickname but smiles at the guy he seems very nice and he must be the cop Ámbar mentioned. Or well she mentioned her mom has police connections which is basically the same. He hopes.

“I’m Simón.” He repeats giving Alejandro a handshake.

“We need to talk.” Ámbar interrupts them. “It’s important.”

“So did you mom say.” He says sitting back on the couch and inviting them to sit on the arm chairs  next to it.  “What is it about?”

Valeria sits next to him on the couch and looks at them intently.

“Do you remember Luna?” Ámbar asks them.

“The actual Sol Benson?” Valeria asks and he wonders why is she using the word actual.

“Yes, her.” Ámbar nods. “Well she has gone missing.”

“Did Sharon do anything to her?” Is the first question Alejandro asks and Simón turns to Ámbar alarmed.

“She asks like she has no idea where she is.” Ámbar tells them. “But I’m actually not sure.”

No one in the room seems in any sort of way surprised by this information, except him. What are the chances Sharon actually did something to Luna? Why would she after all the trouble she went through to bring her back to Argentina with her?

“What do you want me to do?” Alejandro speaks again in a serious tone and Ámbar sighs.

“I just want you to keep an eye on any person that might come out with her description.” She tells him and he nods. “She is a 1.54 meters brunette, green eyes, white skin, I don’t actually remember what she was wearing that day but she left in car without a number plate.”

“Anything else?”

“She has necklace with a moon on it.” Simón adds.

“With a sun and a moon on it.” Ámbar corrects him and Alejandro nods. “And Ale I need you to keep this a total secret.”

“You can count on me.” He promises and Ámbar smiles, it’s probably one of the most sincere smiles he has even seen on her face.

“If you need anything you know we are here.” Valera offers leaning closer to hold Ámbar’s hands, her smile turns somewhat softer, making her whole face change, she looks kinder now, it’s a good look on her.

“ I know.” She whispers. “Thank you.”

“Whatever you need.” Alejandro repeats, looking at both of them and Simón smiles thankful, he tries not to look at Ámbar and her mother, he feels like he is intruding.