can you please walk us through the relationship between wemby and jabari the people need to know
i think the most notable thing about vic and Jabari's relationship is that they don't have one, when it would be so beneficial if they did. they're like two soldiers fighting for the opposite sides of a war, too loyal to the cause to stop and think about what could have been if they just lowered their respective weapons aimed by cold hands larger than their own. foils by fate, friends by freedom.
' remember, you will Always be Different. '
' remember, you will Always be Replaceable. '
'Replaceable'
Jabari's dad made it in the NBA, then didn't. He was a big that could shoot, but wasn't a post-up man. Back then, post-up was the desired style. Ironically, now, it's all about shooting. But his dad didn't live in the now, and his career in the US was short-lived, to keep it cordial. Jabari's older brother played basketball throughout his whole life, but stopped after college. Jabari's cousin, Kwame Brown, was drafted 1st overall in the lottery, and became a notorious bust for the Washington wizards.
Basketball is a business. Basketball is fleeting.
It doesn't matter that a big with sharpshooter skills is valued as something so 'prized' in today's nba, not back then, not when it would have mattered for Jabari's dad. Making it is one ballpark in its own, but Staying in it? Can perhaps be an even more painful ordeal when the hoops to accomplish it aren't circus hoops, but a plain hill some just don't have the strength, mentality, or the materials to help climb without distraction or pitfall.
Jabari's dad made sure Jabari had this threat forever ingrained in his mind. When he yells at Jabari for misplaced eye contact, for typing the wrong words in a public social media reply, for reacting in a way a camera might misinterpret, it's out of love. Jabari's dad was known for being a hassle to coach back then, maybe because he knew his potential and no one else did because it was too new to the mold. So he makes sure Jabari doesn't follow his same habits. Jabari is polite to authority, simply replies with a 'Yes Sir' or a 'No Ma'am', he holds eye contact, he wakes up hours before he needs to just to jump rope, just to uphold the standards that his family could not. He is Everything his father is and isn't, plus more. When his team wins, he's still talking about his missed freethrows even 8 hours later. Because someone else could have won the game And hit those free throws too . someone from a family that gained success and stayed in that success. Someone who wasn't Just Another Son of a basketball player trying to do what his father couldn't, someone who was Different .
Everyone knew wemby was different. When his literature class was asked to write an essay about your future dreams in life, he wrote a fictional romance about a couple where the woman got in a car accident and was comatosed as a result, but got better in the end. He didn't write about being a great basketball player one day, because his parents don't pressure him to hunker himself into the norm, even though his mother once was and now coaches. If Wemby one day realized this wasn't for him, they would encourage him to leave and follow whatever greater passions propelling him. He's so agile for his size because his dad was an Olympic talent in track and field. He is someone who has hobbies and talents that are considered common alone, but strange combined, because he loves what he has and what he does. He reads every night for one hour before bed not to appear as some pseudointellectual, but because he Genuinely loves it, and when he loves something, he excels at it. He does try to be different, but not out of ego. He just loves to be. He either accomplishes at 200% or zero. It may be 200% in an unexpected direction, but it's His direction and that's what matters. If he somehow does wind up a bust, a possibility he considers without fear but acceptance as potential fate, then he won't go down as yet another failed first pick. He'll fall as he flew, Victor Wembanyama.
' Different '
' Replaceable'
Jabari winces each time he's subbed out, even for a second, even on an injured ankle, he's silently Stubborn, his posture shrunken and his gaze at the ground yet his eyes, big, wobbling, staring up always at the speaker, he's silently scared.
Jabari doesn't Want to be different. He just wants to be what his family couldn't be when it came to fame: irreplaceable . His parents split when he was younger, he tries his hardest to appease them both as to not cause any more issues. The relationship relies on his shoulders more than ever, and he can't fumble it again. He has to be what his dad couldn't so his dad can stay, commenting on commonality or surprises. He wants to support his still working mother, especially after the split. He doesn't Want to be unique, he just wants Security.
Because this can crumble any moment now, it doesn't matter how high your pick was or how bright the future Could Have been or how the game would later shift to your style if you had just somehow Stayed. Why bet on low chances if you know you can't handle the risk. He shakes any college coaches' hands that showed up to his practices, personally thanks them for coming even though he's one of the best in the country so their presence should be a given to him, it's not. When he picks a college, he picks one that guaranteed their faith in him from day One, and didn't require any further prodding to finally say '.. Maybe we'll offer you a position' like Kentucky did, as big and famous as it is, it wasn't Secured . They saw him as a risk at one point, and that's everything he's been trying to avoid when it came to attention, negatively standing out.
Jabari wants to be known as the strong shoulder to the world. He WANTS to be known as That One Guy who can just carry everything, nameless but Good. He just wants to be Good. Please tell him he's good. Please tell him what he's doing is Good. That basing his entire personality around yet another soldier who ultimately fell in battle but fought nonetheless being nameless is Good. Please feel free to give him all your burdens to bear like he's just some mule, an animal, a Tool .. because that means he's Useful, at least. That means he's Good. And if he isn't good, then he's nothing. Because you can always just buy another one anyways. A better one.
'Different'
Although his parents try not to treat Wemby by simplifying his differences into a strictly labeled, simple FUTURE BASKETBALL PRODIGY box at birth, that doesn't mean that can always stop others from doing it. Wemby signed his first autograph at ten years old.
It didn't matter if he was a kid who was so much more than just his basketball future, basketball fans wanted one thing from him and one thing only: Success. People didn't care about his literary skills or his drawing hobbies. The eyes on his alien needed to be smaller 'so your shoe can sell better, trust us, it's still Your drawing.. your weird little .. not money-making hobby, do believe me, Vic, We know what We're doing. You just stick to whatever you do.'
His differences, in the end, are minimalized just to that. He's just Different. That's what everyone says who wouldn't really care to say anything at all if he never hooped as well as they wanted in the first place. The youtube videos of 40 year old men criticizing his 15 year old games didn't Really care if he was just a kid, they just cared in the 'imagine when he reaches peak physicality? imagine the points (money) he'd make for the nba.' His beautiful differences, artistic, soft, unique but oh-so wonderfully common and passionate.. are all dissolved into 'Different', the Base definition.
he's an alien. Someone you can just dump all your poverty franchise worries onto because don't worry, he's Different. Trust me, he'll save your team. 'He's Different. ..am i talking about how he'd effortlessly answer questions in class while also trying to hide the fact that he's playing on his phone by tucking his bony legs awkwardly in his chair and crouching his spine over that it looked almost scary? HELL NO? what does THAT have to do with BASKETBALL?? no, he's just freakishly long, but like. Gifted. Though. ... I don't know, man, he's just DIFFERENT, okay? you can trust me, i'm a sports podcaster, okay? everything i say is gold.'
A celebrity approaches him because he was different than most famous basketball athletes. He was Different. And yet, when he didn't recognize or notice her presence due to Different cultures ( due to Being Genuinely, Detailedly Different ), he was scorned and ushered out of public eye so another possible pr bomb couldn't injure his reputation as a Difference That They Really Would Rather Not Want.
that's what his reading falls into, his old friends, his family, his art, his personality. If it's beyond ball, if it's beyond Business. The world only cares if it's marketable. Sure, some reporters will ask a question outside of sport, but only because it'll be a Different.. funny little nugget of knowledge for fans to laugh at then soon disregard for what Really made him famous. But, Wemby is what he always wanted to be. He's Different. So What if it's not exactly the kind of Different he actually wants, he actually functions on? No one has the time to perform 200% anymore. Slap the label you wanted and call it quits, stop being so High-Maintenanced. That's not marketable.
You're just different. And to some people, that's all you'll ever be. No need to explore it any further. Who knows, your Consumers might find something they won't like. And we can't risk that happening to our greatest circus freak.
i mean. Generational basketball talent .
If there's a press conference going on that somehow includes the two, then Wemby just wants to be sure everyone can hear what he really wants to say, in his own words, not echoing anyone else's, and Jabari just wants to Be in the Room.
His brother stopped playing basketball because his family said he didn't try hard enough. Jabari Can't have that. His whole life revolves Around basketball, around sport. He doesn't WANT to be DIFFERENT if that isn't the soundest option, he just wants to be GREAT. Because GREAT is SUCCESS. Jabari Smith is not success. It's just a retry at it . His father shares the same name.
Wemby's life did not always revolve around basketball, to people, at one point. At one point, Wemby's life was just his life. Now, it seems like only his family think that, and they're from a whole other country. When he comments on videos critiquing his playstyle, he doesn't do so out of anger or questioning, he does so because he genuinely Wants to improve. He Does want to be great. But, he wants to be great in Everything that he finds interesting. He always did. When he likes an author, he reads All their books, not just their most notorious novel. He wants to be transported into other people's worlds so he can learn, so he can change, so he can be Different. Even if he somehow were to lose all of this fame, this Greatness, this job, this opportunity, he will never really lose. Because he's someone who's always taken opportunities to the fullest, so even if they pan out a little differently, that's Fine, really, because he's different. Not in the minimizing, dictionary definition then leave the meaning at that different, but in the butterfly effect. What he once was ten days ago is not exactly the same of what he is now, and it hurts, sometimes, when people fail to see that, or simply don't want to because textbook different is easier to digest than worldly different.
IN SHORT.. theyre foils. i can't Exactly walk u thru their relationship bcs .. there Isn't one.. & that's what's so Interesting about them. That's what makes their relationship, to me. Because if they WERE to be friends, if they somehow in some alternate world WERE to get paired up on the same team... they would be friends. I really think they would be. Not only because their signs are so compatible, or their differences are so stark, but because their similarities would triumph everything beautifully. Maybe. We don't know because they Weren't paired together, we can only speculate. But i think it would be big and beautiful, whatever they would have, it would be Something.
unfortunately, we don't live in an alternate world where they're teammates though ! Double unfortunately, Jabari and Wemby's biggest similarity is their loyalty to the game (a double-edged sword in both their lives from Jabari's silent unhealthy desire to be limited and Wemby's silent desperation not to be) Wemby, in Jabari's eyes, is Indeed a powerful...
Problem.
He's not really a person to him . In all fairness, no one really is when they're involved in the basketball world, not to Jabari, not from the way he's been taught. Everyone's supposed to be Replaceable, a faceless tool in the pocket of good business.
.. except for This freakazoid. Apparently.
APPARENTLY, he's some supposed 'saint'. someone to be feared for being more. APPARENTLY, the reporters just LOVE yapping about him SO much, that Jabari HAS to take the time out of his training just to talk about some guy who doesn't even GO here, yet when they ask him about his opinion on future prospects. WELL, that's ALL wemby IS to Jabari, just another future prospect. Just another problem.
A problem he'll be sure to check off his list.
... okay, so Maybe he's a bit more than a problem.. maybe.. he's just a really persistent problem? yeah, that's it, nothing more. Jabari will work through this. He Always does. That's what he does well, Work.
Wemby wonders if that's all he ever does .
But he doesn't have long before Jabari's marching down the tunnel to beat himself up over all his mistakes other people would never make, and Wemby's being escorted to an interview that other people would never make solely to show how Much he just Stands Out as a soul... in basketball .
I hope they find each other in basketball, and out of it as well. I just feel like
Something would Happen
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LITTLE BIT OF UHH 3RD LIFE SCOTTISHBEANS I WROTE JUST NOW HEHEHE
Takes place in the last session (in an au where there’s like. More time between events than just an hour or so.)
This is supposed to be a later chapter of a fic I’m working on! I’m doing things out of order 😭 so there are references to scenes I haven’t yet written in it sorry it shouldn’t be THAT bad tbh. When I actually make the fic this chapter will likely be edited whenever it appears haha
SHIP: Scott/Joel
WORD COUNT: 2143
WARNINGS (mostly just things to be aware of): somewhat of neck kissing, implied sexual stuff (just thinking about it very vaguely), flower husbands is mentioned but Jimmy is dead, headcanon with 3L!red!Joel and his monochrome/red skin, once again references to scenes I have not written, it may feel rather ooc but that’s cuz this is meant to be a later chapter so they’re already fairly close, repressing/denying feelings (and some failing at that), some pessimism about the war, NO DIALOGUE (when I planned this out I was like “wait there’s no dialogue” and decided I’d take it as a challenge and really have just no dialogue)
❤️💛💚
The war had been rough for everyone. It kept all players on edge, no matter how indirect their involvement was. At this point, it was pick a side or die in the crossfire. Scott and Joel had chosen the Desert, but neither of them had much reason to be part of the conflict.
The two had spent the past few days together, constantly running, though Scott could hardly tell if they were running to survive or running to kill. Somewhat of a mix of both, he figured. No matter the reason, they were constantly running, and nice peaceful moments were hard to come by.
Then it happened. They lost their target, the enemy hadn’t seen them yet, they were alone in a remote part of the world. Scott was tired, the grass looked soft, and he flopped himself onto it. Joel was clearly still running on adrenaline despite accepting that it was break time, and so he practically jumped onto Scott, grabbed him, and rolled with him.
Scott had grown used to the annoying ways Joel would throw himself at Scott and jostle him around. He figured it was a red life thing. Jimmy had also become more physical after turning red, though never so aggressive. Through observing others, Scott knew that suppressing violent urges was harder for most reds than Jimmy made it look. Joel tackling Scott was clearly not an act of violence, rather an act of affection. He typically only did stuff like that when they had accomplished something, or at least had some fun.
This moment was the opposite of that. They lost their target, and usually Joel was frustrated at that. They weren’t having fun running, either; it was exhausting and anxiety-inducing. And yet, in what should’ve been a moment of catching their breaths and saying “better luck next time,” Joel had rolled in the grass with Scott.
It wasn’t just Joel who acted out of character in that moment, for Scott would usually tell Joel off for playing so rough with him. It was mostly in a friendly manner, as Scott didn’t mind too much, but it could be annoying when unexpected, like in this moment. But instead of doing that, Scott laughed. He held onto Joel, rolling with him, and laughed in delight.
The ground was rather flat, so they didn’t roll very far. Joel sat up next to Scott, giggling with him. Scott figured that if Joel wasn’t going to lay in the grass, he wouldn’t either, and sat up as well, feeling a little dizzy from all the movement.
Scott shook his head and briefly brushed his hair with his hands, hoping to remove any dirt or grass. It wasn’t a thorough job, so he had to hope he was lucky. He took a look at Joel’s hair, noticing that a few bits of grass had gotten tucked into his hair, enough to turn monochrome as well.
Scott managed to pull out one piece of grass before Joel swatted his hand away. Scott glared at Joel, who tried to glare back but was still smiling. Scott wasn’t sure what that was about, but rolled his eyes and pulled Joel closer to remove the grass from his hair.
He knew that touching Joel’s hair like this made Joel flustered, but it needed to be done. Besides, he couldn’t care about Joel’s expression when he was too busy observing how the grass would regain color when taken out of Joel’s hair. Sure, he had experimented with this phenomenon in the past (don’t think about the flower) but it was never not fun to witness.
Scott was finally finished (it shouldn’t have taken so long, but watching colors change can be so distracting…) and pulled away to get a full look at Joel. His face was about as red as he expected (red being the only color allowed on Joel’s body was pretty unfortunate because it made his blush very obvious… but Scott didn’t feel bad for him). The sight made Scott chuckle and ruffle Joel’s hair.
Joel had accepted this fate (it was obvious that he had, otherwise Scott wouldn’t have been able to remove the grass at all). He seemed annoyed and embarrassed, yet once Scott’s hand left his head he moved himself onto Scott’s lap.
This surprised Scott, but instead of showing it or becoming flustered and embarrassed, it just made him happy. He wrapped his arms around Joel at the same time Joel did, sighing contentedly. For some reason this made Joel laugh quietly, and laughter had felt quite contagious in this moment so Scott giggled back.
There was no reason for them to be doing this. It didn’t make sense. And yet, it felt so right. The world was falling apart around them, everyone knew it was endgame, there would be no peace. Scott and Joel had nothing left to hold onto, nothing left to fight for, but they had each other. They hadn’t had each other a week ago, in fact they were quite against each other. But in the last moments of the world, the only thing they had was each other. It should’ve been sad. It should’ve been awkward. But Scott was having a great time.
Scott cupped Joel’s face in his hands to look at him. Joel’s face showed that he was also enjoying his time with Scott. This moment felt perfect. It was the most perfect moment in the world. There was one thing his heart wanted to do. He leaned in and kissed Joel…
…on the cheek. They’re not in love! They’re not married! They were just two soldiers doing mindless battles together. A kiss on the cheek is enough for that- maybe even too much, really. They hadn’t even declared themselves friends yet (mostly that’s because there was no reason to. There would be nothing after the war worth having friends for).
But as Scott pulled away, he could feel it wasn’t enough. He knew it was enough, he thought it was maybe too much, but he felt that it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning in for another kiss: planted right on Joel’s other cheek. Surely that would be enough.
Of course, it wasn’t. Scott continued like this, kissing all over Joel’s face (never too close to the mouth) and thinking each time “that’s it. I’m done. That’s enough.” but never really feeling that. He failed to stop himself from kissing Joel, but was able to stop himself from kissing him on the lips.
The only person Scott had kissed was his husband, Jimmy. He couldn’t imagine doing that to anyone else. Even though Jimmy was dead, it didn’t make sense to Scott to move on so quickly. Well, with Jimmy it didn’t take long to fall in love either… no, no, what is this train of thought?! Scott loved Jimmy, so much. He did not love Joel, not at all. They were barely acquaintances. A few nights sleeping under the stars together couldn’t have changed that, right?
Scott could not bear the thought of moving on from Jimmy, which meant he couldn’t bear the thought of loving Joel, which meant he couldn’t bear the thought of kissing him on the lips. And yet, he needed to. Every quick kiss he planted onto Joel’s face didn’t satiate his desire at all. He wanted more, so much so that the rational part of his brain was struggling to stop him.
At this point, it was almost worse than just kissing Joel. An endless stream of kisses, all over his face (minus his mouth). That’s gotta be worse at this point, right? But Scott couldn’t stop. The part of Scott that didn’t want to make Joel uncomfortable noted that Joel hadn’t made even a noise of protest, and he knew that if Joel didn’t like this he would be shoved off instantly. The rest of Scott’s brain didn’t want to think of the implications of Joel liking this. Repressing feelings is much easier when it’s not mutual. If Joel had shoved Scott away, he wouldn’t be having this dilemma at all.
Scott had found a way to rationalize what he was doing. He just missed Jimmy so much, that he was desperate to give affection like he had with Jimmy. Surely, he would be acting like this to anybody, not just Joel. He even extended this rationality to Joel, deciding that he had just been so lonely this whole season that he would take affection from anyone, it had nothing to do with Scott.
None of this was true, but Scott held onto this idea. He wasn’t in love with Joel, he just missed Jimmy so much. Joel didn’t love Scott, he was just lonely (that one, at least, was more believable. Still not true). This is what Scott would tell himself any time he would think back to this moment. He would believe it, too, no matter how much his heart proved the theory wrong.
Scott had begun doing a circle of kisses around Joel’s face, starting from one cheek and going up from there, then to Joel’s forehead, then down to the other cheek. As previously mentioned he tried to stop himself each time, but obviously, it was never enough, and he had to complete the circle.
Once he reached Joel’s other cheek, he still wasn’t satisfied, and it technically wasn’t a circle unless he crossed over to the other cheek again. He would never kiss Joel on the mouth though, so he began kissing downwards, towards Joel’s chin. This is where things went wrong (or maybe right).
After Scott kissed Joel’s chin (kind of an awkward place to kiss, honestly) Joel had tilted his head up. Exposing his neck. Scott did not hesitate to press his lips against Joel’s neck. He did, however, hesitate to go much further than that. This much more intimate position snapped Scott out of his haze of wanting to kiss Joel.
His lips rested on Joel’s neck a moment longer, the moment Scott was trying to figure out what was going on. When he finally realized, he pulled away. Joel seemed to also take a moment to figure out what had happened before lowering his head. This made their eyes meet, and they stared at each other dumbfounded; like neither of them knew what was going on. Honestly, they probably didn’t. Everything that just transpired was so spontaneous.
Joel’s face was very red, and Scott imagined his own face wasn’t too different. Scott wanted to say something, but what? Sorry for almost kissing you on the neck? That was hardly Scott’s fault, Joel was the one who exposed his neck for Scott!! Sorry for NOT kissing you on the neck?! He’s recently been widowed! He can’t just go immediately kissing another man’s neck!
Why had Joel done that anyway?! Scott could hardly believe it. A red name who had spent a decent amount of time trying to kill him just exposed his neck to Scott. To kiss. Scott was a yellow name! Joel’s supposed to want to kill him, he did want to kill him in the past, but in this moment he had silently asked Scott to kiss his neck. And Scott almost did. God, what were they doing?!
Joel must’ve been really embarrassed, but Scott couldn’t tease him for it, not when he was also acting so… intimate. Scott tried to think back to figure out who started it, but the memory almost felt hazy and he got too embarrassed thinking about it so he gave up. It didn’t matter who started it anyway; they both indulged. Indulged quite a bit… what would’ve happened if Scott didn’t stop where he had? How far would they have gone?! Now this thought was too embarrassing for Scott to dwell on. Surely Joel wouldn’t have wanted to go THAT far…
After a while of staring at each other, Joel got off Scott’s lap and looked away. Wow, he was really embarrassed. He looked so small like this. Scott felt bad; having been the one who stopped that interaction he could at least pretend he didn’t want it. He wouldn’t do that to Joel, though. The only person he’d lie to about that is himself.
Scott laid down on the grass. It was incredibly awkward between the two, and neither could seem to say anything about it. It seemed best to just rest. Slow that heart rate to normal, breathe. This is what they should’ve been doing when they stopped in the field. Resting. Without touching.
Neither of them moved to interact with each other. Eventually, they got up to continue the war. Neither of them spoke of that moment ever again.
It was just a moment of weakness on both their parts; Joel being lonely and Scott missing Jimmy. They didn’t want each other. Not at all.
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