#Gary's fourth piece is coming no worries

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

It's Task Force 141's first mission after gathering intel about the whereabouts of Samantha Coleman. Gary and the rest of the team proceed to briefing and would probably head straight to their rescue mission. Do these mini summaries even make sense? Find out soon.

Chapter 3 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : Soap - F.N.G.

"Run Through the Jungle"

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Task Force 141

Task Force 141 - Mess Hall

Gary was almost done with his raccoon story when the PA system alerted them of an immediate briefing. Simon nodded to him and got up making his way to the briefing room. Gary also noticed the rest of his squad from earlier walk to the door, and was France crying on Alex? Much to his curiosity, he went to John who was still sitting by the chair.

"Anything you want to tell me, Soap?" he asked, patting his comrade's shoulder. 

"Bugger off, mate. Let's just go to the meeting." he replied, Roach couldn't tell if he was sad or disappointed or mad, but it may have something to deal with France crying.

"Whatever mate. I'm always here if you want to talk it out." he assured, and he was in fact true. It's been a month since the Task Force was created and Gary was the team's therapist, everybody's friend and ally no matter what. He always felt that he could feel everyone's emotions and believes he could be a sponge for someone who's unable to deal with the trauma. Ghost was one of his customers, he had a lot to deal with and Gary was always there for him.

"Few hours ago, our informants intercepted with a group of armed men on a safehouse near the borders of Germany. They told us that there was a man named Augustus who happens to be our step closer to Nero." Gary took note of the information General Shepherd relayed, his scribbles became faster as the General continued.

"We also received word that our hostage, Samantha Coleman is with them in one of these houses. We have to proceed with caution as this area may be rigged with traps or surrounded with tangos." he added.

"As for rules of engagement, fire only when fired upon. This is a local settlement and civilians may be anywhere. We don't want to create unnecessary civilian casualties just to retrieve a single person." he instructed. Gary took a quick survey of the room, everyone looked at the screen intently, he could see MacTavish's eyebrows furrowed in anger, France's eyes were downright sad and Alex, despite being a CIA agent, actually looked worried.

"As for assignments, I'll let your captain take the floor." Shepherd concluded and exited the area, Price then stepped forward and began briefing.

~

The silent chirping of the crickets echoed from the nearby forest. Gary took a cold exhale and leaned on the railings just outside their quarters. 

"Big day tomorrow, huh?" Ghost surprised Roach as he spoke.

"Yeah, it's been a long time since I spotted, but I still know the basics." Gary answered. He and Ghost were assigned for sniper support a few clicks away from the Alpha Team lead by Alex and the Bravo Team lead by Captain Price.

"Your math is good and fast?" Ghost asked, chuckling at the question. Gary inhaled before he answered the question.

"Yeah. Try me." he dared, glancing at the masked man.

"Suppose there's a target about 516 meters far, the wind is one half value." Ghost planned out the situation. Gary's gears started turning as he scratched his freshly shaven chin.

"Five degrees. Descending." he muttered. Ghost thought about it and agreed.

"Yeah. Your math is still on point." he mused laughing at him.

"What do you think Nero is up to? I mean it all doesn't add up. And what's with erasing memories?" Gary flooded the man with questions. Simon just pondered without saying any words.

"I dunno mate. I'm as baffled as you are." he replied, waving to Alex and France who were out on a late night walk.

"Say Gary, what's the deal with the new girl? One minute she looks tough as nuts then the second Soap comes in she's fucking crying?" Ghost rambled. Gary could feel a hint of jealousy but not entirely. It's as if he's mad and jealous at the same time.

"Well, we were too far from their table and I couldn't hear anything. Maybe they had an argument while Soap was out with her on the training room?" Gary speculated, he saw Simon's fists clench as he left his side.

"Eh. Not that I care anyway. Get some rest, spotter. Big day tomorrow." he remarked and went to his room.

"Yeah yeah." he replied waving at the two walking around the oval. They both waved back and Gary yelled good night to them before entering the quarters himself.

Gary plopped on his bed and closed his eyes. He was actually nervous enough that he could hear his own heartbeat, he took deep breaths and lulled himself to sleep. He wanted to see to it that they save the hostage tomorrow and a perfect sleep is what he could contribute right now.

GERMANY

0458H

Gary hated the ghillie suits. It was heavy, uncomfortable and animals sometimes land on you, but it does the job well. Treading the dense forestry just above the safehouse, Gary and Simon head out to look for a perfect spot.

"This one's got a view of the houses." Ghost whispered, signaling Roach to move forward.

"This is Echo Three One, we've cleared the two houses on the right, all empty. Over." Alex reported over their comms.

"Bravo Six copies that and the two houses here are also clear." Price reported.

"Looks like it's going to be the one on the far side." Soap concluded.

"I've got eyes on the safehouse. There's no activity on all windows. Proceed with caution." Ghost reported.

"Rog." Price replied.

"Copy that, eye in the sky." Alex replied.

Gary put out his spotting scope and placed his eye behind the lens.

"I've got my eyes on them, Ghosty. Alpha Team is on its way." he whispered.

Ghost rolled some knobs on his sniper making a soft clicking sound as he spins it.

"Don't call me that, Bug. I have eyes on Bravo Team. Still no movement from the safehouse." 

"This is Alpha Team, approaching the left side of the safehouse."

"Bravo Team is Oscar Mike as well."

"Roach, did you see that?" Ghost whispered.

"Yeah. The winds are shifting." Gary noted, sticking out a tool that detects wind speed.

"Three Fourths value at 400 meters. 15 miles per hour. Adjust to 15.3" he informed, calculating on Ghosts still shoulder with a pen. Decimals are too dangerous to calculate mentally. Ghost's sniper clicked once again to adjust with the wind, he took a deep breath and his targets stabilized once again.

Leaves rustled behind them, Roach quickly held on his rifle and slowly turned back to check if it was an animal. Nothing, but before turning back on his scope, he saw a black figure from the corner of his eye.

"Bollocks. We've got movement on our Six." Roach reported. 

"Remember our ROE, Roach. Fire only when fired upon." Price reminded.

"I'll take care of it from here. You go check on that." Ghost said as he turned back to his scope.

"Roger that. Be safe." Roach quickly ran to the direction if the rustling.

He couldn't make out much of the figure, but he was sure enough it was human. He tried to look for areas where the leaves were disturbed but with the wind picking up, he was clueless. Then there it was again, movement. He quickly dashed to it's direction, not wanting to get lost again. His boots slapped the fresh soil as he made his wauy to a clearing.

'Left, right then left by the rocks.' Gary mentally noted his each turn so he could easily remember but when he's chasing someone whom he felt like it doesn't know where it goes, then it's a whole different story.  

Gary was alone in the windy forest, in pursuit of a person who's out on the woods at five in the morning. He wanted to go back but there's something that bothered him and convinced him to keep chasing it.

"Roach, you okay? They're almost in the safehouse." Ghost pointed out.

"Yeah haaaah… I'm still haaaah… hot on its trail." Gary panted. He suddenly turned when he heard a yelp.

"It's a girl. It might be our hostage." he radioed and followed the direction of the sound.

Soft sobs and English curse words could be heard from where Gary emerged. This alerted the injured female and she plead at the British solider.

"Please. I'm not an enemy. I'm I'm- I don't know who I am or where I am… Please. Don't hurt me." She was an American girl, possibly around 20-30 years old and had blonde hair wearing a black tank top and grey sweatpants, there were a few bruises on her arms and she was threatening him with a stick.

"Maam, put down your weapon and calm down. I will not hurt you." he dropped his weapon slowly on the ground stepped forward, his hands both raised.

"Good good. I need help." she whimpered, looking at her sprained ankle.

Gary immediately took his ghillie off and ripped a piece of his sleeves to wrap around the sprain, treating it with something from his medical kit.

"There you go… You're feeling better now? Maam?" Gary accommodated. The unknown blonde nodded in agreement.

"So.. you don't know who you are?" Gary asked.

"All I know is that I'm with another girl, Brunette." she added.

"I located the one out on the woods. She's American but I can't ID her. She's about 20 - 30 years old, short blonde hair." Gary informed.

"Is that Maxine?" Alex and France simultaneously replied over comms.

"Excuse me. Do you go by Maxine?" Gary asked politely. The girl quickly covered her ears and screamed.

"Aaaaaah! My head hurts!" She yelled. Gary was quick enough to cover her mouth as soon as she opened it as to not give away their presence.

"I don't know if that's a yes or a no guys. But that definitely is a reaction." Gary said over the comms. He assisted "Maxine" and lifted her up as he tries to get back to Ghost.

"Thick trees everywhere. Any Idea where you are Ghost?" he asked over the secure radio.

"I'm at the same spot I've been since we got here. Can't you retrace your steps?" he replied.

"I could try." he muttered, carrying an unconscious woman on his shoulders across the jungle.

Next Chapter : Déjà vu

[thenonbinarydetective]

Catch of the Day-HB Fanfic

A request from one of my new favorite anons. I love all of them, but this request was so crazy I had to do it as soon as possible.

Warning: Angst and bad comedy. Also bad comedic angst. Character death

Additional warning: I can’t take things seriously and I haven’t written in awhile so it may be a bit rusty.

Word count: 1,647

Summary: The boys are chased by a harpooner who does not want to be caught.

Note to the anon: I don’t know what happened in the specific harpooning scene you referred to for inspiration. I didn’t want to spoil myself cause I hadn’t gotten around to playing it yet so, I worked with what I could.

Enjoy or don’t it’s kinda sad!

THWACK!

Frank’s breath hitched as a harpoon burst through the wall of the wooden shed. He looked to his brother next to him over the glistening metal that narrowly missed his head. Joe wore a waning smile. Frank knew what was coming.

“We knew something fishy was going down, I just didn’t think it’d be us.” He laughed weakly. He pealed himself off the wall and shuffled to the other side. Missing the annoyed look that the older Hardy shot at him.

The two brothers had arrived at the tiny fishing village earlier that week after a string of thefts had caught their attention. They discovered it was Gary Keates, an old sailor who currently was attempting to add a murder charge to burglary.

“Why do they always have to try to kill us?” Frank asked brother. He shrugged, then tested the back window. It opened, but neither of them would fit through it.

Keates yelled in the distance, Frank couldn’t understand what he said. It didn’t matter. They either had to break the window or try to duck out the harpooned door. His glance shifted from the window to the door, then from the door to window. He patted Joe’s shoulder, who took it as a sign to step back. Frank took up a rotted piece of floor and swung at the window.

The shattering glass was loud and obvious. Frank was going for quick, he didn’t care about the noise. He ushered his brother out the window and then followed. Joe lead the way in a stealthy, but speedy crouch back towards the main road. The police were to meet them there, along with their father. The village was so far out in the middle of nowhere. They promised to meet the boys in about an hour. Based on a radio message they received an hour and a half ago. With any luck, rescue would find the boys before Keates did.

Joe looked over his shoulder. Beyond his brother, he could still see Keates circling the shack. His harpoon gun bouncing off his leg. He had ammunition ready on his back. “I know the old dude is out of his shell, but I can’t believe he’s treating his harpoon gun like a bow and arrow.” Joe whispered.

“And I can’t believe you’re still making fish puns while were being hunted like animals.” Frank hissed back.

“You mean like whales? Or seals?”

Frank pointed ahead, silently commanding his brother to keep marching on. Also probably to shut up. They had a little way to go before they would reach the main road, and Keates was going to find them soon. Even with all the trees, the older Hardy boy felt too exposed. His only solace was that Joe remained in front of in and Gary Keates was behind him.

“You went to the woods, didn’t ya?” The Hardy Boys heard Gary rationalize as he left the area surrounding the rotten shack. A splintering CRACK rung out through the forest. At first the Hardy Boys feared they stepped on a twig, but it was their hunter retrieving his old harpoon. “I’ll find ya.”

They concealed themselves in some bushes, but they could still feel Keates’ searching gaze as he roved the forest. He was still far behind them. The hairs standing up on the back of Frank’s neck made it seem like he was right behind them.

He ushered Joe back in front of him again and motioned that they should go forward. He saw the worried look in his brother’s eyes, there was nothing he could do to comfort him besides giving him the same look. The situation already seemed bleak, but as long as he could keep Joe safe. Frank’s own safety didn’t matter.

Keep moving forward

Keep staying silent

Keep protecting your brother

In this moment, both brothers were repeating this in their minds. The slow pace was agonizing, and Gary’s shouting did not put them at ease. Slow and steady keeps you alive, right? That’s what their father taught them. In a way. He also taught them to not accuse someone who might kill them when they are alone in a small village where no one would find them. A very specific lesson, but one that would have been useful to remember about an hour ago.

They kept going on, keeping their breath as silent as possible. Trying to avoid every stick and crunchy leaf on the ground. It was Fall, which only made this more difficult. The two were making good progress until,

CRACK!

Frank stepped on a twig. It was a small twig, but the sound of it snapping traveled for miles. The brothers froze. This is not good.

“There ya are!”

This really is not good. Keates was already running in their direction. They didn’t have much time. “You keep going that way. “Frank pointed towards the main road. “I’ll split off and keep his focus on me.”

“But Frank?”

“I’ll meet you there. Now go!” He shoved Joe away from him, and the younger Hardy boy had no choice but to take off. He shot one last look to his brother. Frank didn’t look back. He faced the direction in which the harpooner was coming from. His whole body was trembling, he couldn’t disguise his fear with the brave face he put on.

When Keates came close enough, he slowed down. For the first time, he wasn’t yelling. He readied a shot. Unfortunately, too slow to take it. Frank spun around and sprinted off. His path was wild. He made it up as he went. He heard Keates running behind him.

“If I keep him distracted long enough,” Frank thought as he made a jagged turn, “Hopefully, Joe will send the police in time.” He tried to push morbidity out of his mind, it was hard. He’s completely lost in this dark forest. He couldn’t tell the difference between the sound of his own feet and Keates’s.

Frank had to take a chance to find out. He dove into a bush. It was quiet. Had he lost him? He waited for a few seconds and he could only hear his breathing. He waited before standing up. Looking around his surroundings, he realized he wasn’t too far from the main road. He continued on. There was an outpost nearby that would protect them better than some decaying shack ever would.

“Joe’s probably already there. The police better be there to kelp.” He whispered to himself. “Help. He’s not even here. How did he make me do that?” He laughed for his younger brother, who would’ve appreciated his pun. Frank slowed his pace down to a walk. Safety was in sight.

He caught sight of the shack, but that wasn’t the only thing he saw. Keates had beaten him there. Joe was backing away from him with his hands raised. Frank heard him plead, “No no no no please-AHCK!”

The first harpoon dug into his shoulder and pinned him to the wall.

Frank ran, but he was too slow and too far to stop Keates from loading another.

The second sliced through Joe’s leg. He cried out again.

Frank tripped over a root.

The third struck his hand. Joe didn’t make a sound at this point.

Frank jumped back to his feet and made another desperate attempt to stop the assault.

A fourth buried deep into his side.

Finally, Frank tackled Keates. He tried to pin him down, but the old man fought back viciously. So did Frank. They were rolling in the dirt, no matter how much Frank kicked and punched the old man was still fighting back. He couldn’t believe the energy his assailant possessed. Especially since he was running out of his own. Adrenaline surged through him, but it wasn’t enough. Keates stretched out to grab a harpoon.

The older Hardy took a risk. He shot up. As quick as he could he stepped on the harpooner’s hand, causing him to recoil. He then picked up a rock and bashed his opponent’s head without a second thought. He was out.

Joe’s head slumped, the rest of his body remained pinned to the outpost wall. His vision blurred, his breathing heavy, he was trying to fight it. He was trying to stay alive. He heard the sirens. The police wouldn’t make it. Their dad wasn’t there to save him. He was always supposed to keep them safe in this job. He failed. Joe knew he had to fight for himself now, but it was getting so hard.

Frank’s voice sounded miles away, even though he was inches from his face. Frank always had a solution. He could see the panic in his brother’s face. He was trying to find one. “You can’t fix it for me this time.” Joe mused. He tried to make light of this dark situation he got caught in. There was too much blood, too much pain, it was too hard to stay awake.

“Shut up.” Frank choked out. He couldn’t take out the harpoons, that would only make the bleeding worse. He couldn’t treat his wounds. He couldn’t leave him to get help. He couldn’t help him. He couldn’t protect his brother. “Stop talking.”

Joe weakly lifted his head and looked in his brother’s eyes. He hoped the look he was giving him was enough to tell him everything he needed to. This was the end. Joe wished he could tell his brother how much he loved him and how this wasn’t his fault. He wished he could ask him to say the same to their parents. He was out of time to say all those serious things now. Joe did the only thing he could, “Guess I’m the catch of the day… Sea you on the other side, Frank.”

“Those better not be your last words.” Frank scolded as tears fell.

But they were.

[firesoulstuff]

For that beautiful modern school AU, Charlie at the parent teacher conference

Charlie is scowling under the safety of her helmet as she puts her bike into park. Make no mistake, she volunteered for this, but the sheer fact that she had to volunteer for this is what is blowing her mind right now. She has no idea why, really, after ten years one would think she’d have lost all faith in Lachesis’s parenting abilities and things like this wouldn’t surprise her anymore.

Oh well.

“Alright Babe,” She says with a smile as she steps off her motorcycle, chuckling to herself while watching her nephew clumsily slide down. “Come on, lock up your helmet.”

He’s still struggling a bit, and she laughs when he finally manages to pull of his helmet and his black curls pop back into their proper place. He comes up to her side and slides the strap of his helmet onto the lock alongside hers, then taking the lock from her fingers and securing it because he likes to.

He likes to have some semblance of control. Poor kid.

She, she isn’t sure he’s aware of that yet, so she snickers and ruffles his hair.

“Thanks Gary.” She says, “Now come on, let’s get on with it.”

They start walking towards the school, mixing in with other parents and children all heading for the rear entrance. Gary’s talking excitedly about showing her his desk and the drawing of his family he made in art class. She laughs along and asks a few questions, and when they have to check in at the front desk she’s grateful the teacher stationed there - Ms. Rider - is one who has seen her enough times to know she is Gary’s aunt without checking the emergency contact card AND her ID.

The school hasn’t changed a bit since Charlie was here as a kid. It’s the same pale yellow hallways, the same smell of dry-erase markers, the same bright locker tags standing in stark contrast to the rusted metal. She never did like this place.

Gary leads her to his fourth grade classroom, a room she used to sit in back when it was a third grade room and she wonders idly if the stain is still on the back radiator from when she melted Behrad Tarazi’s science project.

Actually, speaking of Behrad Tarazi, that last name is the one boasted on the door. At first she wonders if it’s a coincidence but then she walks in the room and sees the teacher, and it’s been awhile since she’s seen Behrad or his sister but that is definitely her. Zari Tarazi.

Oh fuck.

When they were kids and too naive to know anything, Charlie had always looked up to Zari. Both physically and metaphorically speaking. Zari had always walked Behrad to class, painted his nails, and there was that one time she punched Rip Hunter in the face because he’d been being a jerk to Behrad. She was everything Charlie had wished her sisters were. On top of that she was beautiful, smart, and literally the coolest girl in school by Charlie’s opinion. Now that she’s older and no longer naive something is crashing over like a truckload of bricks. She did not look up to Zari Tarazi as a child. She had a crush on her.

Fuck.

Of course Zari sees her right then and does a double take.

“Charlie?” She asks, coming over. “What are you doing here?” She then looks down to Gary, and Charlie isn’t sure if the look on her face is horror or straight up shock as she puts some kind of pieces together but it doesn’t matter, Gary clears it up.

“This is my aunt.” He provides, and that’s it, but it’s enough to settle the fear on Zari’s face.

“Good.” She says, “I was worried I was old enough to have the kids of my brother’s classmates.”

Charlie finds herself chuckling, and then they’re back into an easier rhythm, which might actually be worse than the awkward assuming she was Gary’s parent.

“So...” Zari trails, “Did Gary show you his desk?”

[lemonsandstrawberries]

Two Hundred and Ten Roses

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony), MCU,

summary: Steve is away for a secret mission during Valentine's day and Tony definitely isn't pouting about it, so seeing a surprise from his husband definitely didn’t improve his mood.

length: 1 767

a/n: Happy Valentine's day!  Please accept this fluffy piece as an expression of my love to you all! 💜 

——————–

Two Hundred and Ten Roses

A romantic dinner in a fancy restaurant. An evening spent wrapped in blankets and watching TV. Maybe a special breakfast served in bed. There were many ways to celebrate Valentine's day with your loved one.

Tony didn't get married to spend Valentine's day alone.

Granted, he never really cared about Valentine's day. He and Steve showed each other plenty of affection on a daily basis (Tony was sure of it, they both heard complaints from various team members) and Valentine's wasn't an exception of it.

Just seeing the romance pouring out on him from every corner, was reminding him, that this day he would be spending alone as his stupid husband had been sent away for some stupid classified mission to a stupid secret location. That was another reason why Tony felt so bitter - he and Steve didn't make their relationship official and on paper to still have withheld information about their spouses' location. Stupid safety protocols.

The whole day was stupid.

But Tony definitely wasn't petty about it. No, he was a man of science and had work to do, and was above such trivial thing as Valentine's day.

So, when he entered his workshop and was hit with an overpowering smell of roses and saw the biggest bouquet ever standing in a vase in the middle of his workshop, Tony didn't know what to think of it. There was a note attached, simple and to the point.

'Happy Valentine's day, sweetheart. Love, Steve'

Tony ran his hands over the not fully bloomed roses, feeling the delicate petals and breathing in the sweet smell, reading the note over and over again. There was some fuzzy feeling growing in him and a sarcastic remark about the sappiness of it all to mask his true feelings, but there was no one he could deliver the snappy comment to. Before Steve had left they made a deal, that Steve would be the one calling Tony. So, Tony put the note aside, made sure that roses had plenty of water and got to his work, occupying his mind and thinking that, that maybe today won't be so awful after all.

It was well into the afternoon when Tony’s back started to hurt from hunching over the blueprints and saw an icon with Steve’s name flashing in the corner of one of his screen and a characteristic melody of an incoming call.

“Friday, connect me,” Tony sat back in his chair, waiting for his husband’s face to show on the screen.

"Hi, babe!"

“Hiiiiii - dear God, you look awful,” Tony blurted out, the sight of Steve’s close up face taking him by surprise. Battles were not glorious, and despite the healing factor, last rough days were taking a toll on his husband's face - his eyes were circled, hair hung miserably, and as usual, in extreme conditions, Steve didn’t have time to shave, a dark, thick beard covering his jaw.

"Happy Valentine's day to you too," Steve laughed in good humor. Even his laugh sounded strained and tired.

“Sorry,” Tony said quickly, trying to fix his earlier outburst. It was always comforting when Steve managed to find time to call him during his secret missions, but seeing Steve all worn did worry Tony. “Happy Valentine's!” Tony smiled, finally sounding properly happy.

Steve’s smile dimmed into something subtler before his face became serious.

"Before we talk, I have to inform you that this conversation is wiretapped."

“I know, I know,” Tony said dismissively. Safety protocols, yada yada. He knew the drill. “Is Gary listening to us again? Hi, Gary!”

"No, Gary quit after last time," Steve chuckled, referring to the agent who was assigned to the infamous wiretapping on the superhusbands, something all agents dreaded. Cleaning sanitary facilities was easier. "Now he can’t look me in the eye. Today it is Karen’s turn."

"Hi, Karen!" Tony waved at the screen, "happy Valentine’s!"

"Oh, I am sure she is having a blast. We had a flood this morning and I ate breakfast from a tin can."

“Sorry to hear that, baby,” Tony cooed. Maybe Steve was used to rough military life, but it didn’t mean he enjoyed it. If anything, it was getting harder and harder to sleep on the cold ground, while he had a comfortable bed and a warm husband to snuggle with back in New York.

"I am gonna survive," Steve smiled and Tony hoped that he better, as he didn't plan on becoming a widower any time soon. Or ever. Just for now, he would keep that thought to himself, to not tempt fate. “I wanted to ask, did you find your gift?"

“It is hard to miss,” Tony laughed. Two hundred and ten crimson red roses on long stems in a crystal vase. The whole bouquet took over a square meter out of his workshop and was easier to jump over than walk around. Just to be sure, Tony made Friday scan the roses and count them three times. He had tried asking for a fourth count, but Friday put herself on mute. The reason was that, that the number didn’t add up for Tony, he couldn’t think of any reason why Steve chose that number of flowers. “They are beautiful, thank you. Just why two hundred and ten roses?”

Steve folded hands together under his chin and looked at his husband with love, Tony could feel all the way from the screen. Steve liked symbolics in their relationship. His favorite flowers to give to Tony were daisies because he claimed that Tony was cute and small like a daisy but also was resistant and stubborn, just like the innocent looking white flowers able to grow in harshest conditions. Their wedding rings had hidden gems, Tony’s had a blue sapphire, Steve’s had a red ruby, to represent their superhero colors. There was no way Steve ordered two hundred ten roses on random.

"I got you two hundred and ten roses to represent each and every pound of you I love and cherish."

Tony stared. And stared. And started some more before losing it again.

“What the hell, Steve?!” Tony yelled in outrage. Steve just smiled brighter, as if enjoying this situation. Well, he always claimed that angry Tony looked like a puffed out cat. So cute.

"I know I might have been a little off with your weight -"

“Damn straight, you are,” Tony hissed.

"-so I added an extra ten roses to count in your winter weight."

And it became tense again. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that Steve was just teasing him. It was working beautifully. Years of marriage meant that they knew exactly how to push each other buttons.

“If you weren’t God knows where and I wasn’t sure when I see you again, I would totally hang up on you,” Tony gritted out through his teeth.

"I love you too, butterball," Steve cooed, blowing him a kiss.

“Steve!” Tony protested, feeling that his face became heated from embarrassment. Tony knew he wasn’t overweight. Chubby at most. He was thick in all good places. Places Steve seemed to enjoy on a daily basis. “Don’t embarrass me in front of Karen!”

"I am pretty sure that at this point Karen hung up on us," Steve laughed.

“Good, because I planned to give you all of this,” Tony motioned to himself, “once you will be back, but now you won’t get any.”

Steve narrowed eyes. "Like you will be able to resist this," Steve slowly raised his eyebrows and pressed lips together, jutting them forward. Tony tried hard not give up and let the playful jab be forgotten so easily, but he had to admit that his husband’s seductive face was quite a success. "Uh, hold on, babe," Steve said, leaning out of the camera view, exchanging a few words with someone, before coming back into view. "Sorry, Tony, I have to go."

“Is everything alright?” Tony asked, alarmed that Steve wanted to cut him short so abruptly.

"Yeah, it’s fine, just a meeting about strategy," Steve smiled, trying to ease his husband. "Will talk tomorrow, okay?"

“Okay. Stay safe!” Tony added hurriedly.

"I will."

“You would be safer if I was there with you.”

Steve’s eyes softened. That was true, but Steve was glad it wasn’t happening. Tony was safe back in New York and didn’t belong out there on the battlefield. This was good.

"I know, babe," Steve agreed.

“And not just because it was scientifically proven that a sufficient layer of fat can make one almost bulletproof -”

Steve laughed, interrupting Tony’s ramble, not expecting his husband to poke fun at himself.

“I love you, babe," Steve smiled, grateful for the short moment with his husband. It was good to see him, even briefly.

“I love you too,” Tony said and the screen turned black, the connection cut off.

Looking at the empty screen, Tony sighed, sinking into his chair. The smell of roses was strong and all around him, and became a painful reminder of his husband stuck somewhere far away from him in a state of constant danger. He needed something to fill up the void in his heart and remembered that before Steve had left for his mission, he prepared an array of homemade food and stuck in the freezer, saving Tony from constantly ordering takeaway or burning the pots. A tray of lasagna sounded especially good. He could save his work, go back to his quarters and mope over layers of pasta, cheese and tomato sauce with meat, or he could do something even better.

“Hey, Fry,” Tony looked at the ceiling, where one of the cameras to Friday’s system was located. “Let the team know that I am putting one of Steve’s lasagna in the oven and if someone wants a piece, they should come to the shared kitchen.”

“Okay, boss,” Friday replied, passing the message to the Avengers currently present in the compound and Tony could almost hear Thor and Clint sprinting in the kitchen direction. Tony stood up, thinking that he should get some nice bottle of red for him and Natasha to drink, Bruce was all set up with his weird, green teas. He could always count on Vision and Wanda to prepare something sweet, as the pair went through cookbook after cookbook, trying all kinds of recipes. Maybe he could reach Peter and invite him to swing over for a piece. Wonder what Pepper and Happy had planned, he should call them too.

After all, even if he couldn’t spend Valentine’s day with his husband, nothing was stopping him from spending it with his family.  

[rockcampfifteen]

How I Got to Sesame Street: Bill Sherman Talks Working with Lin-Manuel Miranda, Where He Keeps His Grammys, and Being Ignored by Big Bird

I didn’t think that Rock and Roll Camp XV was even going to happen this year, if I’m being honest, but nothing about this year has been predictable, so here we are. A dozen campers and about as many counselors in a Zoom meeting. We made it work, and it worked well. Since camp wasn’t a physical, in-the-moment experience, there wasn’t a lot of opportunity for photos or camper interviews, but we did get the chance to interview Bill Sherman, an Emmy, Tony, and Grammy award winning musician. Bill has worked on musicals like Hamilton and In the Heights and is a music director for Sesame Street. He was laid-back, down-to-earth, and didn’t give any impression that he was full of himself. Bill didn’t act like most award-winning musicians and talked openly about his life and experiences. He mentioned that he had been stuck in traffic, and that he was worried he’d be late for our interview. We knew that he was taking us seriously, that he didn’t just see us as a bunch of kids wanting to have a talk. 

-Elsa

Elsa: I just want to say we appreciate you taking the time to talk to us. We’ve got a lot of questions, so we’ll jump right in. What was the first instrument you learned to play, and what attracted you to it?

My parents got me piano lessons when I was in elementary school, and I was super not into it. I believe the teacher’s name was Mrs. Record—which is hilarious for a music teacher’s name—and she taught me for a couple years, and I was terrible at it, so I quit. And then in fourth grade we had to pick an instrument, and the music teacher where I went to school was a woodwind player. He was like, “Bill you should play the clarinet.” I was like, “Okay, sounds great.” And then in sixth grade—this is a good story—he goes, “You know, the clarinet has the same mechanics and fingerings of saxophones,” and I was like, “No way, that sounds like a way cooler instrument than the freaking clarinet.” If any of you are clarinet players, I don’t mean to offend you. Also, I still play the clarinet. Anyway, he showed me the saxophone and I was immediately attracted to it. And when he left the room, I took the saxophone and left with it and I didn’t tell him. So I stole it. I took it home. And it became my thing. I was obsessed with it. My teacher’s name was Gary Meyer. He later went on to be my private saxophone teacher for like a hundred years, until I went to college, and now, he in fact works for me. He plays in the Sesame Street Band. He’s a woodwind player. So it was a pay-it-forward, full circle moment, to have my fourth grade music teacher be in my band.

I got really into jazz. I went to a real big jock high school, and I stopped playing sports and just played saxophone, all day every day, all the time. And in college it became my identity. Mike can attest—I was the saxophone guy. I led bands, and I played all the time… if you see movies about colleges, and there’s a music guy? I was kind of that guy. 

I later taught myself to play piano—another full circle moment—because composing on the saxophone for anybody is a difficult thing to do. I have a number of guitars that I have no idea how to play.

Elsa, by the way, has your name become like the coolest ever since the whole Frozen situation? My kids would think that’s the coolest thing ever.

Elsa: Frozen came out when I was in about second grade, and of course I was so hyped for it. I went to a theater with a friend of mine, and afterwards I was like, “Oh, I was the Ice Queen, oh yeah!!” And of course you go back to elementary school, and everyone’s like, “Oh, you have ice powers,” and so pretty soon I was tired of that. But it’s kind of gone away. It went away for a few years, and people stopped associating it with my name. And then Frozen 2 came out and here we are again—

(Bill Laughs.)

Michael: I have a question for you, Bill.

Okay, Mike. Does everybody know that Mike used to be this amazing trumpet player, and he was in my band, and he wrote for the band, and he packed this unbelievable punch, and he was like this tall, and he was this awesome powerhouse, and truth be told... I don’t know if he knows this, but in certain theory classes I would cheat off him, because he had a way better ear than I did.

Michael: I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I do think it’s hilarious that I was better at theory than you. But so anyway, in the band, you were the only one really bringing in your own songs—so I’m wondering where the urge and the confidence to start writing your own material came from?

In high school I wrote poems, and then my senior year of high school, I wrote this instrumental thing and I played it at my graduation. All the people who thought I was a nerd for being into music, they stood up and clapped and I thought that was so freaking cool. That was my first move into composing. And in college it was just kind of what we did. It just seemed like how hard can it be? You start breaking down pop tunes… at that time, we were kind of doing jam band, Ozomatli tunes, four chords and the truth. And you find that pop music in general is four chords and the truth. Like the Foo Fighters: they play four chords really quietly, and then the same four chords way louder, that’s just what they do, and it’s awesome, and it works every time. 

The other thing about writing music is that it’s very hard to know if you’re quote unquote “good at it.” I’ve written thousands of songs, and I’d say 75% of them are terrible. But 25% of them people really dig into, and then you wonder, Why this song? Like for Sesame Street, I get very immediate feedback. My friends who have kids, they’ll immediately let me know, This is the song. I wrote this song for Maren Morris on Sesame Street called “Oops, Whoops, Wait, Aha” which is about children calming down, waiting to answer a question, not just like going crazy, and people will send me photos or videos of their kids dancing along to this particular tune, which is great. But that’s the first time in four years that anybody’s contacted me, and in those four years I’ve written hundred of songs that nobody cares about. And so, if you get a good one every four years, that’s great. Songwriting is like anything, you’ve gotta  try it, and then you try it some more. 

The other best way to do things that are creative and original is to at first emulate people. That’s what we were doing—Mike and I in our band in college. I liked Salif Keita, and I liked Fela Kuti, and I was like, I can write a song like this. We wrote songs that sounded, almost exactly like Fela Kuti tunes. It’s not really original, it definitely sounds like something you’ve heard before, but that’s how you learn how to do it. Study the craft, how other people did it.

Marilla: On Sesame Street, how do you write thousands of songs and not make them all sound the same?

That’s a really good question. I have in fact repeated myself a number of times. I was working on another show a couple years ago, and I wrote this song, and it was great, and they loved it, and then a year and a half later I sent them another song, and they got back to me and were like, “Hey, sorry to say this, but I’m pretty sure this is this,” and they sent me back the song I’d written previously, and it was almost the same exact song, and it was so freaking embarrassing. But I’ve talked with Max Martin about this, and what he does is collaborate. Invite people in. Not to steal their knowledge, but he constantly has new people coming into his fold, because I think you’re right, after a while you just start repeating yourself. 

The fun thing about Sesame Street is that it can be any genre. Nothing is genre specific. I can write a hip hop tune one day. And a bossanova the next day. And a ballad another day... One of my favorite things about Sesame Street is that we’re able to bring on new people to keep it interesting and fresh. I’ve been employing more women lately, because there was a time when my writing staff was really male-heavy. Also, Abby is a girl, Rosita is a girl, we need to have that voice. Lately my job at Sesame Street has become more of being like a procurer of music, as opposed to physically writing it—more of like a producer role. People send me stuff all the time. Feel free to get my email from Mike if you have songs you want me to listen to... I will listen to anything.

Lyla: Do you have any advice for younger people—or people in general—when it comes to writing and creating music?

My advice would be to not give up. Not everyone is going to like your stuff. There’s just no way. It’s not gonna happen. It’s a lot of work to be a songwriter, because you’ll write 100 songs, and 98 of them will be terrible, and two of them will be great. 

My first couple years in college, I got asked to be in like 100 bands, and I said yes to everyone. Because initially, you have to say yes to everything. You have to play in a crappy cover band. And you have to play in a cool band like we were in, and you have to play in a funk band, because everybody plays in a funk band in college, and then you get to a point where you turn a corner, and then you can start saying no. I didn’t start saying no until five years ago. 

Lyla: Another question I have is that you mentioned you used to play in a lot of bands in college, and earlier you mentioned playing at your senior year graduation—did you ever think you would come this far, working with Lin-Manuel Miranda, and writing big musical pieces? Did you ever expect to earn awards or anything?

Well, no. I don’t think you ever expect awards. Success is a whole other thing—you can’t prepare yourself for things like that, it just sort of happens. In the process of saying yes to everything, I got myself into positions that I never would have expected. But when we were in college, all I wanted was to be a saxophone player, and move to New York, and make no money, and just sort of grind it out, and then I met Lin my sophomore year of college. I music directed his musical. And I had never music directed a musical, I had no idea what that meant, but I said yes. And I went on to direct all of his musicals in college, and then we graduated college, and we were roommates forever, and then it was like, “Hey, people want to make In the Heights into something,” and I was like, “Okay, that seems like the most logical thing to be doing,” so  we made In the Heights…

I got involved in musicals just randomly, because I said yes to something. I’d never liked musicals. I’d seen Rent, with the original cast, but I’d never listened to Sondheim, or Andrew Lloyd Webber…

But the success thing, it all happened very quickly. Between the ages of 22 and 26. In those four years, it was like marriage, children, awards. I wasn’t expecting any of that stuff.

People come over to my house and pose with my awards, which makes me really uncomfortable, and then one person drank out of the Grammy once... that happened. I have a platinum record in my bathroom. I didn’t know where else to put it. 

Elsa: Have you ever thought about writing your own musical?

It’s weird to go from writing minute and a half long songs that are like a single verse and a chorus, to writing these ten minute long opuses that have to have all this narrative in them, and do all this stuff��it’s definitely a different side of my brain. With & Juliet, it was taking Max Martin’s music and turning it into a musical. Deconstructing all these pop hits like “Oops I Did It Again.”

Marilla: How did it feel to see Hamilton on Disney Plus all these years after you worked on it?

It was far out. It was like seeing an old friend. It’s filmed really well, and you’re seeing views of things you’ve never seen before, it sounds fantastic… it just brought back a lot of old memories. Chris Jackson has been my best friend for like a hundred years, and so has Lin, and seeing them on stage, it was a reminder of how good they are… Now, years later, my children have memorized the record, they’re singing the whole thing, which is unbelievably irritating. My daughter—she thinks she knows the whole thing, but she really doesn’t, she just makes up her own lines during the really fast parts, which is really funny, and makes me laugh. I watched it the day it came out. It was a nice excuse to reach out to friends and tell them how good it is, how good they are.. And at a time when theaters are closed, it was cool to see people excited about seeing theater..

Lizzy: What’s your favorite thing to work on, out of all these different projects?

When we were in college, I thought being in a band was the coolest thing ever, and I wanted to play live music for my whole life, and I didn’t want to do anything else. And now I do other things, and all I want to do is play in a band in front of people! Once a year Sesame Street has a gala that some very famous person will come and play at. Last year it was John Legend, two years ago it was Michael Buble, and so there was this big band, and I played in it, and I had so much fun. I kind of miss performing. I play in this thing called Freestyle Love Supreme, which is this documentary that was on Hulu, we make up rap songs--and that’s fun, but I play keyboards, sort of behind the scenes, and so I sort of miss having a band, like we did in college. I’m getting all these memories, Mike, about WestCo Cafe.

These days my favorite thing is collaborating with new folks. We just finished the In the Heights movie, which comes out next year, Sesame Street goes into production in a couple weeks… I’ve been incredibly lucky and honored to do what I do, so talking about it always makes me feel sort of strange, because to me it’s just what I do, but to you it’s like, there’s no way that’s a real job, and explaining it sounds ridiculous, and I’m glad you wanted to listen to me talk about myself for half an hour.

Peter: What’s it like working with Big Bird?

Every day that I walk on to the Sesame Street set, I kind of have to pinch myself a little bit. The guy who played Big Bird passed away a couple years ago. He’s also the guy who played Oscar the Grouch, and he didn’t really know me for a couple years, and then I went to an award show, and I won an award, and he’s actually the guy who presented it to me, and so he hands me the award, and he goes, “Oh my God, I never knew what you did.” And so imagine Big Bird saying to you, “I never knew what you did.” And that was terrifying. Every time I hear Big Bird’s voice, or Kermit’s voice, or Grover --- it freaks me out, because I was a big Grover fan when I was a kid. Those are the times when you’re like, Whoa, this is surreal.  

[douxreviews]

Legends of Tomorrow - ‘The Eggplant, The Witch, and The Wardrobe’ Review

“Mikey! Mikey, Stop!”

Legends continues to ramp up the action as it moves into the final phases of its too short fourth season, and on the way makes the most important statement about relationships that's ever been uttered on genre television.

Have I mentioned how much I love this show?

One of the most consistently impressive things about the way Legends of Tomorrow tells its stories is the way that they're able to take what should be standard, if not cliched, plot set-ups and somehow turn them into something unexpectedly fantastic. Last year, Zari's turn at reliving Groundhog Day gave us the amazing 'Here I Go Again'. This week we get that thing that genre shows love to do wherein one character physically enters another character's mind in order to 'save' them from whatever has caused them to fall unresponsive, and therein finds a world built almost entirely of visual metaphors that help them work through a bit of character development before we get back to the season's larger plot.

So, yes. It's essentially Sara Lance as Willow Rosenberg in 'Weight of the World'. With the small difference that Ava, our Buffy-surrogate in the set-up, is actually able and willing to have a profoundly frank and adult discussion with her inside the, for lack of a better term, 'dreamscape'.

And really, I know that this gets mentioned in these pages a lot, but that's the greatest strength that Legends of Tomorrow has; the way that all of the characters are allowed to behave like rational and emotionally available adults, despite also being time travelling superheroes. It's sure as hell that none of us saw that coming, back in the Vandal Savage days.

Case in point, look at the way that they completely skated past the obvious 'everyone but Ray blames Nora for Hank's death' plotline here. That was obviously what we were being set up for back at the end of 'The Getaway', and yet within the first couple of scenes this week we have the Legends find out that Nora is on the Waverider, she says 'I swear I didn't kill Hank', and Constantine essentially responds, 'Yeah, we totally already figured that out. It was actually fairly obvious, and just the tiniest amount of follow-up on our part established what was really going on. We're totes good, Nora.' And everyone immediately gets on the same page on the issue, because they're all behaving like reasonable adults. That is huge. That just doesn't happen on television.

Even Nate only needs to take the smallest of moments questioning whether or not Nora is guilty before he processes what he's being told and accepts it, and that's the one instance in which they could have legitimately gotten away with a character responding in a destructive way because he was responding emotionally to his father's loss. But they didn't go there, and it cannot be overstated what a positive and refreshing example that is to see.

It's particularly clever of them, because of the way that they pulled the rug out from under us at least twice this week regarding the heavily foreshadowed Nate/Ray schism that we were all bracing ourselves for. Nate finds out that Ray has been harboring the woman he thinks killed his dad, and he responds by listening to what his friend is telling him, accepting what he's being told, and reaffirms their friendship. A little later on we see him accidentally punch Ray in what we assume is going to be the beginning of their 'Civil War' style breakup, only to immediately get ahold of himself, apologize, and embrace his friend. An apology that Ray accepts without hesitation, I might add, because Nate's actions were both completely understandable under the circumstances and immediately apologized for.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the world's greatest ever example of positive male friendship. I'm starting to believe that if we can just get enough people to watch this show, we might actually find a way to counter toxic masculinity. Wouldn't that be nice?

All of which is a roundabout way for me to get to the point that I've been growing to realize that it's really the character relationships that make this show. Witness, for example, the curious level of kindness that Constantine shows to Gary when he wants to hold vigil for Ava. Gary, by rights, should be pure dorky comic relief. Constantine, as a character type, exists almost solely to deflate that kind of comic relief character. And yet when push comes to shove, John goes to Gary's D&D nights. John cares about Gary. That's a nice detail. Similarly, it's notable the way that Mick is willing to help out Zari in something as trivial as crafting sexy text messages to Nate. Mick of even two years ago would absolutely not have been doing that.

Which brings me back to my initial point as regards that important statement about relationships. After a truly enjoyable series of sequences in the 'evil purgatory Ikea', Ava and Sara have some incredibly frank and direct talk about their relationship. And during that talk, they're both so amazingly emotionally available to one another and so willing to be vulnerable with one another. I honestly cannot think of a healthier relationship on television, ever. Not in the sense that they don't have problems, because they clearly do, but in the way tat they're willing to acknowledge them, and admit when they're in the wrong. It's messy, and it's real, and I love every second of it. And just when I think it can't get any better, Ava says;

"Let’s be honest, neither of us needs anybody. But you are who I want."

Yes. That. A million times, that. Can we amplify that message about a billion times, until it drowns out all the rom-com 'I need you to complete me' bullshit? Because that would be wonderful.

Be more like Nate and Ray, people

So what have we learned today?

To stop including this section in the reviews, because trying to condense a logically consistent universal rulebook of how timeline changes work in this fictional universe is absolutely nothing compared to what we should be learning from the character relationships. Also, clearly no one involved in the show is worrying about it.

Everybody remember where we parked.

This week the Waverider pretty much stayed where it was in Washington D.C., 2019. At least, it logically must have been sine Zari could send texts to that year, and Ray bounced back and forth between the ship and the Time Bureau.

Sara, meanwhile, went to actual literal purgatory to rescue Ava's soul. Purgatory, in this case, being an obvious Ikea knock-off called 'Megastor', complete with umlaut.

Quotes:

Ray: "Hey Sara! Great news. Hank was killed by a demon!" Nora: "'Great' was not the word he was looking for."

Ray: "She’s not a liability. She’s a survivor."

Sara: "You two are with me. (To Zari) Woman the ship."

Gary: "Conspiracies, embezzling, paper trails. I feel like Julia Roberts in Erin Brockovich."

Nate: "If this is my dad’s mistress I’m gonna jump out a window."

Sara: "Ava, if you check out, you die." Ava: "Well that’s kinda on the nose, isn’t it?"

Charlie: "Being honest, wind powers- just not that scary." Mick: "Yeah, you’re like a magical hair dryer."

Nate: "Yeah, hi. We’re looking for Mr. Uh… Mr… T."

Zari: "I don’t even know why I’m talking to you two about it. You don’t even date humans." Mick: "Love’s love."

Nora: "I know how hard it is to watch someone you love become a demon." John: "Yeah, well too bad there aren’t any Beebo’s around to hug it to death."

Mick: "Here. Use words. It’s erotic, but vulnerable."

Bits and pieces:

-- Yes, I realize that they were actually in purgatory, where her soul was currently stuck, but all the semiotic rules at play here clearly were working on the understanding of 'dreamscape'.

-- So apparently Neron wanted Ava's body to host somebody called Tabitha, I assume she's his demon girlfriend.

-- The trope of the bad guy having a favorite whistle-tune so that we can identify what body he's jumped into later is super clichéd and tired. I still didn't see it coming that he'd end up in Ray though.

-- You should absolutely never pay less than $800 for a mattress. Under any circumstances.

-- It's not clear what actually happened to Nora in that ritual. Are she and Ray going to end up as Tabitha and Neron? I'd be down for that.

-- Absolutely nothing about Hank's magical creature zoo makes sense, and he certainly wouldn't have needed a demon's help to set it up. I hate everything about that plotline, with the exception of Mikey T, who is awesome.

-- Zari, Charlie and Mona giggling about texting boys shouldn't have been charming, but was completely 100% adorable.

-- Dirty secret time, I adore assembling flatpack furniture. Honestly, it's my favorite thing in the whole world. I'm not kidding.

-- The effect of aging and de-aging as the sat on the mattress was really nicely done. A very clean low tech solution which worked well.

-- I'm actually really surprised at how quickly Mona has begun feeling like a natural part of the team.

A really good episode with a lot of really positive things to say about adult relationships, both romantic and otherwise. I just wish it hadn't involved the stupid magical creatures zoo plot, because it's stupid and muddies the waters as to what Neron actually wants to accomplish.

Three out of four flatpack dressers.

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water.

[noisemakerreviews]

‘Joker’ Paints An Uncomfortable Picture of Today’s World

Never did I think I’d see the day where I could parallel even the darkest of Batman themes to the world we live in. 

Todd Phillips’ latest blockbuster Joker stars Joaquin Phoenix as the clown prince of crime we all know and love. Phillips’ other films include the Hangover trilogy, but this new film doesn’t have a happy go-lucky trio trying to remember their drunken stupors and find their fourth mate. 

Joker makes the audience laugh, but in a nervous, sort of uncomfortable way. 

At the Venice Film Festival, Joker received an eight-minute standing ovation. 

Reviews poured in following the Italian premiere and they backed up the hype. Mark Hughes of Forbes said, “The fact is, everyone is going to be stunned by what Phoenix accomplishes, because it’s what many thought impossible — a portrayal that matches and potentially exceeds that of The Dark Knight’s Clown Prince of Crime.”

The film opens with Phoenix touching up his makeup in front of a vanity. He hooks his fingers in the corners of his mouth and pulls them upward in a smile, downwards in a frown, then back up again; a single, mascara-stained tears roll down his cheek, and laughter ensues. 

Phoenix plays Arthur Fleck, an eccentric man with a funny laugh and a horrifying past, searching for his identity. The film encapsulates Arthur’s journey with himself and his downward spiral into becoming the Joker.   

There are some prevalent themes within Joker that are worth talking about; the most prevalent being mental health and its effect on people in today’s society. There are several scenes in which Phoenix is sitting in front of his therapist, and she eventually jerks the needle off the record and informs him that the city has cut the clinic’s funding and their meetings must come to an end. The therapist goes on to claim that the higher-ups, “don’t give a shit,” about people like him or her. 

According to the National Survey of Drug Use and Health, in 2016, 9.8 million adults aged 18 or older in the U.S. had a serious mental illness; 2.8 million of those adults were below the poverty line. Insurance companies have also been known to skimp when it comes to mental health cases, which makes it that much harder for people relating to Arthur to seek help. According to a study published by Milliman, in 2015, behavioral care was four to six times more likely to be provided out-of-network than medical or surgical care. In President Trump’s proposed 2020 budget, his administration aims to cut $241 billion from Medicaid, an assistance program that provides healthcare to low-income Americans.

Dancing is a symbol that is heavy in Joker. According to a Harvard study, “dance helps reduce stress, increases levels of the feel-good hormone serotonin, and helps develop new neural connections, especially in regions involved in executive function, long-term memory, and spatial recognition.” After especially tense scenes, Arthur begins a slow, emphasized dance routine that is hauntingly beautiful.

 With mental health being such a prevalent theme, Arthur clinging onto dancing as a coping mechanism or escape from the world backs up the analysis that he’s doing it to improve his mental health — or at least attempt to. 

In any Batman rendition — comics, movies, TV shows, video games — Gotham is always on fire… literally. In Joker, we see a bright Gotham in the beginning, with normal big-city crimes happening: teenagers stealing things, muggings, etc. By the end of the film, Arthur has bred chaos in the streets, and we see the imagery of Gotham that has become so prevalent within the Batman universe. In both Arthur and Gotham’s descent into madness, there’s an arc that’s ever present: protesting the elite. 

All around the country, protests have emerged to combat the elite. Most recently, climate change has brought criticism on the world’s elite members and their inability to make a change. In the past, police brutality has created protests in riots from victim’s families and their supporters, calling for change in law enforcement procedures. Countless marches have been held in response to several pieces of legislations passed (abortion laws, Planned Parenthood budget cuts, LGBTQ+ rights). 

“Kill The Rich” is a headline that pops up time and time again throughout the film, feeding into this “protest the elite” arc. Arthur guns down three rich men in the subway following their harassment of a woman and a physical altercation between himself and the men. This sparks a movement within Gotham that empowers Arthur and makes him feel noticed, something he’d never experienced in his life before. Citizens of Gotham supporting this movement don clown masks to imitate the suspect, aka, Arthur. 

Joker has faced its fair share of backlash. Stephanie Zacharek of Time Magazine took no prisoners in her review, stating that Joker, “lionizes and glamorizes Arthur even as it shakes its head, faux-sorrowfully, over his violent behavior.” Other reviews have had similar opinions. In 2012, a mass shooting broke out at a Colorado movie theatre during The Dark Knight Rises premiere. The assailant fatally shot 12 people. Family members of the slain victims wrote a letter to Warner Bros. expressing their concerns. 

Sandy Phillips, mother to 24-year-old victim Jessica Ghawi, told The Hollywood Reporter, “I don't need to see a picture of [the gunman]; I just need to see a Joker promo and I see a picture of the killer … My worry is that one person who may be out there — and who knows if it is just one — who is on the edge, who is wanting to be a mass shooter, may be encouraged by this movie. And that terrifies me.”

In what is perhaps its most iconic scene, Arthur eccentrically dances down the stairs that we see him trudge up throughout the film. This is also the first time we see him in that iconic purple suit, green hair, and a full face of makeup. He is dancing to Gary Glitter’s “Rock and Roll Part Two,” which has earned the film more backlash. Gary Glitter is a convicted pedophile currently serving a 16-year prison sentence. According to CNBC, Glitter is allegedly slated to receive royalties from the use of his song in the movie. 

People took to Twitter to post their opinions about the film. One user tweeted, “#JokerMovie was the most brutal, uncomfortable and tense movie experience I’ve had in a long time. Joaquin Phoenix is chilling. The film was spot on and did everything it should have for a character like the Joker.”

Another user tweeted, “Outstandingly Disturbing. Prolific. Necessary Blessing to Modern Cinema.”

As much as I enjoyed the film’s premise, production, and Phoenix’s performance, I do think there are some troubling themes that need to be brought up. Arthur often justifies his heinous actions by stating “they deserved it” and using the defense that society treats “people like him” like “trash” so, they should all die. He feeds into the “Kill The Rich” movement that he involuntarily created in the subway when he committed what we presume to be his first murder(s). 

Though I know the concept behind the Joker character, I can see how this can be construed as glorifying gun violence. However, we can’t have the Gotham supervillain without violence and guns. It’s an accurate representation of the character, and it’s unfortunate that it parallels a lot of what’s going on in the world today. 

The Joker is also painted to incite pity within viewers, which a lot of times, it does --- or at least attempts to. This is classic Joker behavior. In Paul Dini and Bruce Timm’s comic Mad Love, readers meet Dr. Harleen Quinzel, a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. She gets assigned to none other than --- you guessed it --- the Joker. Though this woman is highly educated (we won’t talk about the things she did to get that education), the Joker still manipulates her and convinces her to not only help him escape Arkham, but become his partner-in-crime as well; Harleen Quinzel is no more and Harley Quinn is born.

She pities him and his situation, and he spins his tale of woe so expertly that she has the wool pulled over her eyes. Throughout the comic --- and the general timeline for Joker and Harley --- Joker mercilessly abuses Harley, from pushing her out a window to not noticing she was gone for six months. He is a cruel, manipulative psychopath that nobody should follow in the footsteps of; however, he’s good at his job, and Joker showcases that, however controversial and uncomfortable it may be.

Joker is rated R for a reason; not only are there a few F-bombs, the violence is staggering. However, when dealing with a character that is known for inciting violence and not caring about the consequences, tough scenes are necessary. Phillips didn’t shy away from blood and intensity in his murder scenes, and Phoenix went all in when it came to brutality. Personally, (spoiler!) I never really wanted to see Robert De Niro’s brains blown out the back of his skull, but you can’t have the Joker without some blood. 

And finally, while the troubled citizens looking for a leader are terrorizing Gotham following Arthur’s murder of Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro) on live television, our hero’s story starts. Thomas and Martha Wayne are gunned down in an alley outside a theatre by a rogue thug and Joker fan, and young Bruce Wayne begins his famous story. 

Joker was original in concept and plot, but had just enough callbacks to the comics to make it permissible. The atmosphere in the full theatre I was in was palpable. There were chuckles and titters here and there when Arthur would make a funny joke, or everyone was just laughing off the tension of the moment. There were also audible gasps and groans when things got especially rough (such as the aforementioned Robert De Niro scene). Joker did exactly what the real Joker would have wanted: it incited a reaction out of people.

I had low expectations going into the movie because, as someone who grew up reading Batman and loving to hate the Joker, I was afraid my favorite complex villain was going to get ruined (looking at you, Jared Leto). I was pleasantly surprised by Phoenix’s performance and Phillips’ take on Mista J, and it was a refreshing performance that was a polar opposite from the late Heath Ledger’s, but equally as convincing and chilling.

An Oscar seems to be on the horizon for both Phillips and Phoenix for Joker. The film is raunchy and tense, and I didn’t know I could hold my breath for two hours. It’s exactly what a Joker movie should be, and I’d encourage anyone to go watch it.

[dweemeister]

Toy Story 4 (2019)

2019 marks the completion of the John Lasseter era at Pixar and Walt Disney Animation Studios with Toy Story 4 (credited as story writer; uncredited as producer) and Frozen 2 (as producer). Lasseter’s disgraceful end as the creative head at both studios was marked by scandal, in which the Walt Disney Company cut ties as quietly as possible. At one point untouchable because of Pixar’s creative output – not a single dud from Toy Story (1995) to Toy Story 3 (2010) – Lasseter’s recent years had reeked of complacency, dependence on sequels, and having played a part in erasing the final vestiges of hand-drawn animation at the famed Walt Disney Animation Studios. Pixar’s impeccable record is no more; the groundbreaking studio is fallible after all. With Lasseter now at Skydance Animation (to the dismay of many), his final involvement with a Pixar film continues the legacy of arguably the most consistent animated film series ever.

Directed by Josh Cooley and with a screenplay by Stephany Folsom (her cinematic debut) and Andrew Stanton (1998′s A Bug’s Life, 2008′s WALL-E), Toy Story 4 had languished in development hell for years. An army of writers have doctored the story since 2014, so it is difficult to understand who contributed what. For those who were children when Toy Story and Toy Story 2 (1999) were released to theaters, Toy Story 3 appeared to be the fitting farewell to Woody, Buzz Lightyear, and their friends. Pixar, which has claimed that it does not pursue sequels unless there is artistic and narrative sense to that sequel – they have some explaining to do about the Cars sequels – has charged forward with this newest entry in the Toy Story mythos.

Now with Bonnie, the cast of toys must contend with the fact she is about to attend Kindergarten. Worried that Bonnie will have a difficult day of Kindergarten orientation and the fact that – though he would never openly admit it – Bonnie has not given him much attention recently, Woody hops into Bonnie’s backpack and has a hand in the creation of Forky. Forky, believing himself to be trash, makes numerous attempts to toss himself into the wastebasket, much to Woody’s dismay. As Bonnie’s family embarks on a vacation, Woody and the gang must prevent Forky (whose scenes are frequent and comedically overcooked) from disposing himself. While at a mountainous town, numerous situations will introduce the likes of other toys including Gabby Gabby (a ‘60s-era doll who longs to be loved by a child); the miniscule Giggle McDimples; prize toys Ducky and Bunny; motorcycling daredevil Duke Caboom; and Woody’s old flame, Bo Peep.

Without detailing the film’s conclusion and, as someone who rewatched my VHS of Toy Story and DVD of Toy Story 2 ad nauseam as a child, Toy Story 4 does not feel as strong a conclusion as its immediate predecessor. Yet Toy Story 4 deepens the series’ existential themes and characterization of Woody – its moral center after extinguishing his homicidal feelings towards Buzz in the original – at the unfortunate expense of almost the entirety of the cast of toys. Nevertheless, Woody’s character growth has been tremendous to behold. His steadfast loyalty – so often a source of adoration from moviegoers – is called into question here. His unwritten sheriff’s code to be of service, embodied by Jimmy Stewarts or Gary Coopers in decades’ past, clashes with the “lost toys” without children to call their own. The misadventures and toy-sized heists characteristic of Toy Story are derailed by unfortunate timing and increasing stakes. No wonder the frustration towards Woody – among the characters and the audience – is so palpable.

The fragmentation of the plot and physical separation of its characters creates a handful of storylines that, with the film’s sharp editing, are comprehensible. Toy Story 4, when analyzed through its editing (and even when excluding flashbacks and fantasies) and writing structure, is the least linear of the Toy Story films. Characters are not so much reacting to a singular event as they are personifying or espousing the film’s themes. One’s ability to tolerate this structure will be tested, but screenwriters Folsom and Stanton are content to not devolve into lengthy expositions or soliloquies that too explicitly outline their intended subtext. Gabby Gabby’s apparent and ultimate fates will elicit instant, strong reactions that might just be universal. Woody’s final decisions in the film’s closing minutes will be viewed through the prism of life experience. Many of the questions Toy Story 4 presents once Forky has been introduced have been central to the series, with variations with each passing installment. What does it mean to realize one’s obsolescence? How does one come to terms – if at all – with that realization? When does a lifelong dream transform into obsession? Folsom and Stanton are not interested in whether there is a “correct” way for a toy to exist – note that every toy in this film defines their existence in bringing joy to a child, even those toys have been lucky enough to do so.

After years of late Lasseter-era twist villains and films with so little nuance in trumpeting their vaguely liberal inclusive messages, this is a refreshing change of pace. Whatever answers viewers find will not arrive easily and will change with time. The most worthwhile art tends to be as such.

Toy Story 4′s characters are stand-ins for human relationships with a coat of comedic paint to make the most difficult moments bearable for everyone. To ask so bluntly the nature of meaningful existence might be dismissed in a live-action film as maudlin, manipulative (film is always manipulative; the effectiveness and appropriateness of such manipulation is not beyond criticism). Inside Out (2015) and Coco (2017) are the best recent examples of this from Pixar’s filmography of how animation lowers these barriers to posing such ideas. The studio’s success is not because they created imaginative worlds filled with talking toys, rodents that can cook, or a post-apocalyptic humanity too dependent on technology. Nor is it the storytelling the studio justly prides itself upon. It is because of the raw ideas found within their films, when the excesses of plots are discarded.

The production design by Bob Pauley (1993′s The Nightmare Before Christmas, all three previous Toy Story films) – in addition to the ever-increasing photorealism of Pixar’s backgrounds and character animation – is superb. Pauley juxtaposes the dusty, earthy antiques store that the film spends much of its runtime with the neon-lit carnival beaming its lights into the night sky. More than the previous Toy Story films, this edition allows the use of colors to help guide the dominant moods in respective scenes. The darker, subdued antiques store scenes lend a feeling that something or some secret lurks around the next cobwebbed corner – evoking claustrophobic spaces, ideological and personal entrapment (the placement of “Midnight, the Stars and You”, which is most famous for its use in 1980′s The Shining, plays a key contribution). The carnival/fair has occasionally been a source of macabre elements or thematic irony in Western cinema; it is a tradition that at least goes as far back to 1920′s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (more recently, and though not a film, the third season of Stranger Things contributes to that tradition). The summer carnival of Toy Story 4 is more liberating than most, leaning into whatever escapist nostalgia the audience holds – of which Toy Story could be a part of. The fourth installment of this series is the most atmospheric; one wishes that the filmmakers could have slowed down a tad to allow a fuller appreciation of the various settings.

Pickier than most film score composers, Randy Newman (1984′s The Natural, 2009′s The Princess and the Frog) nevertheless has become a staple with Pixar and has created, single-handedly, Toy Story’s musical identity. Recorded, in typical Randy Newman, with an enormous orchestra of Los Angeles-area musicians at the 20th Century Fox studio named to honor his uncles (Emil, Lionel, and especially Alfred were gifted composers contracted to Fox), Newman’s ability to integrate musical ideas he has not revisited for twenty or more years with newer motifs is most apparent in the film’s busiest scene. The cue that plays there is “Operation Pull Toy”, which utilizes character- and plot-driven motifs drawn and rearranged beautifully for this newest film. But standing above the rest is “Parting Gifts & New Horizons”, which plays during a fateful moment and a series of fond farewells. The Americana that Randy Newman incorporated through the series and was especially acclaimed for before working on the original Toy Story appears, without restraints, brass instruments backing, and high strings leading. Though not as distinguished as previous Toy Story scores, Newman knows when to pull the emotional strings with his sweeping melodies.

To digress slightly: in isolated parts of Newman’s score (the brief theme beginning at 4:04 of “Parting Gifts & New Horizons” included), I yearn for Newman scoring for an American Western film.

In the recording studio, Tom Hanks (as Woody) and Tim Allen (as Buzz Lightyear) admitted that neither could record their lines without being overwhelmed by emotion. Hanks claimed that he could not even face the crew as he neared his final moments of dialogue. Another member of the cast, Don Rickles (Mr. Potato Head), passed away in April 2017 – well before any voice actors began work on the film. Rickles’ family urged Pixar to see if a performance could be pieced together through archival recordings. Poring over almost a quarter-century of voice work from outtakes and recordings for promotional materials, Disney parks, and video games, a brief, but serviceable performance was spliced together by Pixar. Rickles is credited as Mr. Potato Head in the film and he, along with animator Adam Burke, is one of the film’s two dedicatees.

As a disappointing decade in mainstream American animation closes with sequels and the ignominious departure of a figure central to the industry, Pixar’s artistic future is uncertain. Pixar’s new chief creative officer is Pete Docter (2001′s Monsters, Inc. and Inside Out). Docter, who has been with Pixar since 1990, is not likely to fundamentally transform the studio’s mission – as outlined by Lasseter – or artistic direction. He is noted, however, for imbuing his films with his deep sense of morality. Combined with the fact that Pixar intends to move away from sequels in the immediate future, will the studio regain its form after an inconsistent decade? Toy Story 4 is, by way of its structure and overuse of Forky, the weakest in Pixar’s most venerable series. That standard, however, is comparing greatness with excellence.

My rating: 8/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.

[edbrookeuni]

MD4316 - Songwriting and Performance - Semester 2

______________________________________________________________

Final Songwriting project

Our group for this project initially consisted of me on keys, Tyler on bass and Lucy, Brandan, Sacha and Aaron on vocals, though Aaron later joined another group. We had to write two songs which we were to perform at the end of the term.

Practice 1 - 19th April 2021

For the first song I wasn’t really sure where to begin, so Tyler suggested trying something starting in Am. After a while we settled on A minor E G and D. We then decided we wanted to do a more happy song, with suggestions of it having a reggae type beat thrown around for a while. Aaron then changed the voice I had been using on the piano from a normal piano sound to a clavichord, to which I then played the chords in a more funky manner which really transformed the piece into something closer to the happier vibe we were looking for.

Whilst we were working on this the vocalists were listening and thinking about possible themes, lyrics and melodies. After that we really weren’t sure where to take the song musically, so Gary helped us out and suggested having a funky motif that fed into the main chords we already had.

First Practice - Soundcloud

Practice 2 - 26th May 2021 - I was ill

As I wasn’t there, the group decided to work on what would be the second song. Tyler wrote a Bass and guitar part which he showed me later. He had decided that he was going to put the bass part onto piano so he could play guitar over the top of it. I thought that the piano part he wrote was remarkably beautiful for someone who claims not to play piano.

Practice 3 - 07th May 2021

Tyler played me the recording he had done of the piano part for the second song, and he helped me learn how to play it. Initially I wanted to keep it the same as Tyler had written it, but for the practice I decided to fill in the chords to help the vocalists work. This then essentially became what I played in the final piece.

Third Practice - Soundcloud

Practice 4 - 10th May 2021

We were given two hours to work on our songs instead of having a normal lecture. After struggling to develop a chorus for the more upbeat song, we decided to use the same chords we used for the verse in the chorus, and added one more bridge section to feed back into the verse again. We also decided to finish the song on a bass solo, which was based off of what Tyler was intending to play in the verses, but in the end It was too cluttered, so he worked it into a solo. I was really like the bass part Tyler used instead though, because it used a funky slap style which add some much needed percussive qualities

In the second song we decided to let the chords ring out, instead of me playing the rhythmically. Initially it was going to be played rhythmically in the verses, but then held in the choruses, but in the end it all flowed better. We also decided that we should have a piano solo in the middle of the song, but as I was struggling to come up with anything whilst I was there, I said I would go home and write something then.

Fourth Practice - Soundcloud

(At home) Practice 5 - 12th May 2021

I wrote the piano solo by recoding me playing the basic chords and slowly adding to the solo bit by bit

Solo development - Soundcloud

Practice 6 - 13th May 2021

This was our final practice session before the final gig where we could practice and finish up our songs. We also came up with the final names for both songs, the happier one being called “Better Life”, and the sombre one called “Alone”.

We also decided to call ourselves “Blest” which is the initials of all out first names put together.

Brandan, Lucy, Edward, Sacha, Tyler.

Performance - 14th May 2021

Unfortunately once again I had issues with my hearing, but as I wasn’t singing this wasn’t too much of a problem, and I made sure I could see Tyler easily so that I could see where we were in the song. I was more nervous than I have been for most of the gigs so far, which I think was mostly down to my solo part which I wasn’t as comfortable with as I’d have liked. Also we weren’t given any time to practice beforehand which made it feel more like an actual gig, and the only small bit of practice we got was when doing the sound check beforehand.  

I completely messed up the piano solo in the practice, which didn’t help my nerves, but other then that the setup seemed fine. During the gig proper I did stumble on my solo, but was able to regain composure and finish it well, so I was pleased with that. Tyler also made a mistake in his solo to, but he did a great job in covering it.

In the end though the gig went really well in my opinion, and though I was worried to see the final video, I think it came out sounding great.

[ethanalter]

'Outlander' Postmortem: How production designer Jon Gary Steele built the 'A. Malcolm' print shop

Claire and Jamie (Caitriona Balfe and Sam Heughan) enjoy their reunion in A. Malcolm’s print shop (Photo: Starz)

Warning: This post contains spoilers for the “A. Malcolm” episode of Outlander.

A successful 18th century printer’s press like the one owned and operated by one A. Malcolm — a.k.a. James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser — doesn’t just spring up overnight. No, the lovely Edinburgh-based print shop where Outlander‘s long separated couple, Jamie and Claire, had their six-episodes-in-the-making reunion on this week’s super-sized installment took well over a year of careful planning and construction by the show’s production design team, headed by Jon Gary Steele. Speaking with Yahoo Entertainment, Steele reveals that his crew started work on A. Malcolm’s shop midway through shooting the show’s second season. “Halfway through one season, we always start on the next,” he says, which means his team is already deep into designing Season 4 while Season 3 is still airing. “It takes a lot of time to get these sets done.”

And key sets like the print shop are treated with exceptional care. Not only is it the scene of what’s arguably the season’s emotional high point so far, but it’s also an environment that fans of the Outlander novels have been waiting to see brought to life… and they’ll know if the details aren’t exactly right. Fortunately, Steele is as detail-minded as the show’s devoted fan base, whether he’s building Jamie’s printing press or the brothel pied-à-terre where the Frasers continue their reunion. “The reaction we get from the fans makes us excited and proud, because they love the detail, so we work harder to make everything better each season,” he says.

We spoke with Steele about building a working version of “Bonnie,” Jamie’s beloved printing press, and the little details he hopes fans notice in the episode’s two major sets.

As I understand it, you built an actual printing press for Sam Heughan to operate in the print shop scene. Yes, we paid a specialist who does these recreations for universities, libraries, and museums, and had two of them built while we were filming Season 2. We also had someone come in and show Sam how to work it. Almost everything you see on that set was made [for the show]: every counter, every piece of print. I’ve had people ask me, “Why didn’t you put the print shop on one level?” I wanted two levels, because I thought it would be more visually interesting if Claire had to walk in and look down for the iconic scene of the reunion. I pitched it to Ron [Moore, the showrunner] and Matt [Roberts, the writer and producer] as it being a precursor to a factory. His store is upstairs, and then down below you can see all the workings. It was all built on one stage, and there’s catwalks and stairs that you can take. The downstairs was split in half with a wall of glass like the glass upstairs. It makes it more interesting for the camera. We didn’t want it to be a box: we wanted it to be possible for them to shoot it [from many angles].

Jamie hard at work over his beloved printing press, Bonnie (Photo: Starz)

Jamie names his printing press “Bonnie,” and in the book his name is carved on the frame. Did you replicate that detail? I don’t think we did. I wish we had remembered to do that! We tried to fill the set with detail and make sure that no matter where you looked, it looked period-correct and that there’s stuff to shoot through, as well as hanging paper drying everywhere. We did tons of research and saw that printing presses in the 1700s had these tool leather walls, so we did our own version of that. That’s the most ornate part, and it’s in the store where Claire comes in. It’s more utilitarian downstairs.

Is this the model for how a well-off printing press might have looked in the 18th century versus a less-successful publisher? Yes it was. We try to make everything look beautiful; even the ugliest stables, we try to make look as real as possible, but also beautiful in a way. And that’s what we tried to do here. For example, we spent a lot of time on the “A. Malcolm” sign that hangs outside. We knew it was a hugely important thing for fans of the book. I told the graphics people that I wanted to put lots of symbols into the sign, so we did all sorts of research into different symbols and incorporated them. There’s tin, because there’s tin in the press, as well as Jamie and Claire’s initials. We also wanted to be able to shoot through it so they could have camera on one side, while Claire comes up to it on the other. And they really did make signs like that: they were cast-iron and were pierced, so we tried to make it period-correct like that.

Claire examines the sign for A. Malcolm’s print shop (Photo: Starz)

Like many of the sets, the printing press is predominantly lit by candlelight. How does that factor into your designs? We worry a lot about it. Back in Season 1, we used to joke that everything had to be brown with a bit of gray. It’s been fun to see more color appear. There’s a lot of red in the printing press, and we couldn’t use red in Season 1 because that was the color of the redcoats only! But everything is thought about with the candle in mind. We have candles, candelabras, and chandeliers on almost every set, and we also build fireplaces because that’s what they did in the 18th century: it was a source of heat and light. For exteriors, we have metal braziers. The DPs love them, and they look really good on film. When you shoot in a courtyard, it adds a little burst of golden color. We always take samples of colors and fabrics and hold them up next to the costumes, with candles next to that to see if they look good in candlelight or not. The DPs always make it look beautiful.

What’s one detail about the printing press you hope viewers at home notice? My favorite part is the storeroom upstairs because of the walls. We put little bits of gold on the molding around the doorways and the bookcases when you walk into the room. I remember a carpenter going, “You want gold in the touch-up?” I told him that it’s just a highlight. When it’s lit with the candles and chandeliers, the gold shimmers in the light. That’s my favorite thing. Also, the tool leather walls that aren’t tool leather, but look like it!

Let’s turn to the Edinburgh brothel. You’ve designed a lot of brothels for the show already. How did you want this one to stand apart? What I was trying to do was take this space and cover it in old rugs to make it look like a harem. The way I described it to Ron was, “I want to put built-in daybeds everywhere, with one in the center for the madam. And then everything around the openings will be covered with rugs.” He was like, “Rugs?” And I said, “Yeah, rugs. It’s not Paris — it’s more downscale.” We were trying rugs, and at first none of them matched, but then we found some we loved and made duplicates and covered the walls in the whole place so it creates a tapestry of rugs. And it works! It’s crazy, but it works. [Laughs]

And that was entirely your own invention? This is my fourth year on the show, and you always want to do something different. We’ve done tons of taverns and a couple brothels before, and we know fans love this stuff. So even though it has to be period correct, we want [each set] to be special. Everyone on this show wants it to be special in every scene and in every detail, be it the armorer who does the guns or the set decoration or the costume designers or the props department. When you see Claire’s medicine kit for the next season, it’s like a piece of art — it’s stunning.

Jamie and Claire continue their reunion at Jamie’s apartment above a brothel (Photo: Starz)

Speaking to the beauty aspect, Jamie’s private room does seem a bit more romantic than an actual brothel likely would have been. Anywhere that Jamie and Claire are going to have a romantic scene we try to make as sexy as we can, even if it’s a barn. They ended up having more scenes there than we thought, and the crew was actually a little angry about shooting in this little room. I was like, “This is way bigger than it should be. It’s really just a room in a brothel — this is the triple the size!” They need that room to shoot; it all works out and looks great.

Since they have to film so many intimate scenes, do Sam Heughan or Caitriona Balfe have special requests in terms of the kind of mattress or bedding they prefer to lie on? We only try to make sure the bed’s big enough for Sam, because he’s 6’3″ long! There was one scene where the rug they were going to be on was really abrasive, so we had to swap that out. But they’re very kind and generous to us, and never really ask for anything from us. They always come and say thank you to all the departments about how beautiful everything is. That’s a good thing, because we’ve all been on projects where it’s not like that.

Any hidden details about the brothel you want to call out to eagle-eyed fans? We put these little columns on the madam’s daybed. It was built especially for her so she could lounge on this giant daybed with thousands of pillows — kind of like an opium den, but it’s Scotland! So we put these big twist columns on there, as well as the fireplace mantles. Someone said, “That’s a little bit much for a brothel,” and I said, “If you can’t do it in a brothel, you can’t do it anywhere!” There’s certain sets that have to be exactly period correct, but we try to have fun with it [when we can].

Most of your pre-Outlander production design credits are films that take place in contemporary settings. Has it been fun living in the past for three seasons? I love it! It’s the most fun stuff I’ve ever done. I love doing things like American History X and Cruel Intentions also, but it’s a dream to do the 18th century, because it’s such a beautiful period for design. We build so much stuff and research continuously; everybody in the department is always looking through books or magazines, and Google is huge. What’s interesting is that in Season 1, we would type “18th century” into Google and you’d get Game of Thrones or other period shows. Now when we’re researching stuff, we see pieces of our own sets! I should have stock in Google. [Laughs]

Outlander airs Sundays at 8 p.m. on Starz.

Read more from Yahoo Entertainment: Notes from our ‘Outlander’ wine tasting ‘Outlander’ Postmortem: Toni Graphia on writing the prelude to the print shop scene: ‘Stay tuned!’ ‘Outlander’ postmortem: Duncan Lacroix talks Murtagh Fraser’s surprise resurrection

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Dark Nights (Part 6)

Summary: The reader is having a hard time coming to terms with how she's reacting towards Dean and he’s not making it any easier...

Dark Nights Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Some fluff, some angst, some cliffhanger...

You had to cut Dean off when he’d polished off half the pie in a matter of five minutes. He groaned and pointed at his stomach but you put it back regardless, making a mental note to make him another one sometime. You grabbed two beers from the fridge, Dean twisting the caps off with ease when you returned.

“So what were you doing in Colorado that night? Hunting a monster?” you asked. Dean looked like he wanted to giggle at your naivety but he kept himself together.

“Couple of ghouls next town over. Most dangerous part was driving apparently,” said Dean, sipping on his beer slowly. His lips curled over the mouth of the bottle, the pink shade drawing your attention as he finally pulled away, running his tongue over them. “I had a gut feeling that night wasn’t going to end well.”

“You should relax, you’re tensing up again. Sam said you should stay comfortable,” you said. Dean cocked his head but dropped whatever he wanted to say.

“No wonder you aren’t an Alpha, you’d put us all in our place in the blink of an eye,” he said, reaching for his computer.

“Just you...and Sam I suppose. He’s like an oversized puppy really,” you said, Dean grinning ear to ear, typing away at his computer.

“Told you. You got a last name by the way, little Omega? Your family probably called the police, think you’re missing or something,” said Dean, looking over at you. “We can let them know you’re alright if you want.”

“Um, that’s okay,” you said, Dean’s interested piqued now. “I’m serious, Dean, it’s fine.”

“Something you want to share with the class?” he asked, sliding the computer away, patiently waiting for more. Or as patiently as you imagined he could get. “Listen, I got family issues too. A whole lifetime of ‘em. Nothing’s going to surprise me.”

“Never had much in the way of issues. We just don’t talk anymore for whatever reason,” you said. Dean pursed his lips, maybe thinking he ought to apologize for pushing.

“Well,” said Dean, toasting his beer to yours, “They did an alright job with you. Sammy likes you and he’s kind of closed off.”

“Oh yeah, Sam’s definitely the one that doesn’t get close,” you said, Dean bursting out laughing at your dead pan. “Makes a girl feel special, Dean.”

“You are,” he said, the air getting too thick again as you forced yourself to make idle chit chat and pull up an episode of the three stooges while Sam took his sweet time getting home.

“Pizza. Wings. Fries. We deserve this,” said Sam, carrying the two boxes down and way more food than the three of you could go through. “Dig in while it’s hot.”

You grabbed a few plates from the kitchen, Sam and Dean already eating by the time you came back with some napkins. The food was delicious and you caught Dean watching you suck the sauce off your fingers on more than one occasion. Sam asked you about...everything really, doing his best to make you feel comfortable there with them even though it wasn’t necessary. You liked it there, liked them both.

“Cas texted me while I was out, has a lead on the first Alpha. Gary Berkshire. He’s hiding out in the Dakota’s,” said Sam. “I was thinking maybe give Jody a call, her and Donna could meet up, take it on for us.”

“I think the gals would appreciate taking care of someone like that,” said Dean, reaching for his fourth piece of pizza, your face scrunched up. “They’re some of our hunter friends. Both cops, both kickass.”

“I was wondering how you could fit all that in your stomach but that’s good. I don’t think you should be out running around yet,” you said. “Or Sam. I don’t really know what to do in an emergency.”

“Worried about me, little Omega?” asked Dean with a wink, laughing as he took a bite. You didn’t say anything but your head nodded on it’s own, Dean looking back to Sam when he caught it. “Alright, I’m going to go lay back down before I pass out in a food coma.”

“Night, Dean,” said Sam. “I’ll check on you in a little while.”

“What are you, my mother?” asked Dean, standing up, the brothers sharing a silent conversation.

“Jerk,” said Sam.

“Bitch,” said Dean, giving him a smile. “Night. You too, Y/N.”

You stayed up a while later with Sam, showing him the research you’d done the day before in more depth, figuring out how the two of you could start to work down the list more efficiently. Eventually you went to bed, Dean’s door shut as Sam went in to speak to him. It stayed shut for quite a while as you started to put things away in your room, hang up your clothes and make it more personal. You were pulling your band tee down when you heard the door across the hall open, giving the guys a nice show of your stomach and hips.

“Sorry. I’m used to being able to walk around in my underwear,” you said pulling up your shorts. 

“Go for it. We aren’t going to stop you,” said Dean from his bed. You made your way over as Sam was stepping out.

“Dude,” said Sam. 

“Oh, she’s already seen me with a boner like twice now. A pair of boxers isn’t going to kill you, right Y/N?” asked Dean. You nodded your head. This was their house and you didn’t want any special exceptions made for you. “Told you.”

“Whatever. Night losers,” said Sam, ruffling your head as he went to the other side of the bunker.

“So you do like band tees,” said Dean with a smirk. You rolled your eyes but waved him goodnight. “Wait. You want your blanket back?”

“Nah, you can have it. It always makes me feel better when I’m not feeling well,” you said. Dean looked like he wanted to argue over a stupid blanket though and you weren’t in the mood. “Just take it, please?”

“It was great last night but you didn’t sleep well. This place is new and your life has been turned upside down the last few days. A little bit of home will help,” said Dean, holding it up. You sighed and walked back over to grab it. He chuckled and you had to fight the urge to ask what was so funny at almost midnight. “I thought I’d have to argue with you more on that.”

“I don’t like arguing with you,” you said, folding the blanket up, Dean swallowing thickly. “See ya in the morning.”

“Oh,” said Dean when you were halfway across the hall. “If you have bad dreams again, you can wake me up.”

“Do I look like a small child to you?” you asked, crossing your arms as best you could when they were filled like that.

“No. Just someone who’s putting on a brave face because of her situation. Nightmares don’t give a shit how tough you think you are. Trust me,” said Dean. You nodded, not likely to take him up on his offer. Especially not once you lay the blanket out on your bed and climbed in.

You stuffed your face in it and breathed deeply. Fuck, it smelled like him. It went straight to your head and made you feel fuzzy and nice and before you knew it you were trying to curl into it again. You shook your head and had to shove it on the ground, panting hard. The feeling was still there, his scent wafting over through the hall so strong you thought you would explode if you didn’t get closer. You heard Dean groan in bed and you sat up, looking over at the dark room across from yours.

“You alright?” you shouted.

“Fine! Go to bed sweetheart,” he said. You lay back down but were headed over there two seconds later, blanket in tow. “Y/N, I’m-”

“You’re being a little overdramatic, Dean. Take-”

“Go back to your bed and take that with you,” he ordered. “Shut my door on the way out.”

You didn’t care for his tone but chalked it up to him being cranky and left, doing as asked. You dropped the blanket off in the laundry room before crawling back under the covers, hoping a nice wash would rid his scent from it. 

“Good morning,” said Dean as he walked in to the kitchen, spotting you eating a bowl of cereal. You nodded but kept your gaze on your bowl, plopping another spoonful in your mouth. “Hey, don’t go back to that. The not looking me in the eye thing. You got pretty ones, I want to see them when I talk to you.”

“No I don’t,” you said, lifting your chin, Dean showing a small sign of relief. “I don’t.”

“Agree to disagree then,” said Dean, swiping your bowl over to him, stealing your spoon out of your hand.

“I was eating that,” you said, Dean giving you a pout.

“But I’m hurt and helpless,” said Dean, batting his eyes. You raised an eyebrow and slid off your seat. “Shit, didn’t think that’d work.”

“You’re kind of cute when you’re not being all tough guy,” you said, pouring a new bowl for yourself as Dean munched away. “Sam and I think we found a way to take care of our problem in a different way.”

“Different way how?” asked Dean with his mouthful.

“Well that’s kind of complicated. In the long run it’s much easier though,” you said, pouring the milk in the bowl, grabbing another spoon for yourself.

“What is it?” asked Dean.

“Draw them out, get them altogether at once,” you said, pressing the cereal under the liquid. 

“Do you remember what I told you last time you wanted to be bait? That still goes,” he said, taking a deep breath, fire practically spewing from his mouth.

“Yes, I remember,” you said, keeping his gaze. “I’m talking about something else.”

“What half-cocked plan did you two come up with now?” asked Dean, crossing his arms, turned towards you, already not happy with the idea he knew nothing about.

“They don’t know Sam. He could get in with Colorado, get the pack back together and then take care of them from the inside out,” you said.

“One problem with that,” said Dean, rubbing his temples. “Just a little thing really. One teensy thing you guys might want to consider. He’s my brother. You think they won’t know who he is in two seconds?”

“You guys smell pretty different to me,” you said, Dean contorting his face.

“Not that different. Families still have similar...if I hadn’t told you Sam was my brother, could you have smelled it?” he asked.

“No. You guys are like opposite ends of the spectrum,” you said. Dean rubbed his head again but shook his head. “Sam said you wouldn’t like it.”

“No. I don’t. We do this the old fashioned way. I know you want to get out of here as fast as possible and everything but that’s not a risk I’m willing to take,” said Dean. You nodded and tried to find something in their unique scents that linked them. He was right, families always had them but Dean was so overwhelming that pretty much every other Alpha either smelled awful or just  kind of there.

“I like it here. I was just spitballing,” you said. “No rush on anything. I want everyone to stay safe.”

“You’ll be a full blown hunter by the time we’re through,” he said. “Not that I really want you to be one.”

“Whatever you need me to be, I’ll be it,” you said, the words spilling out easily. “I’m, uh, going to take a bath. Hopefully nothing bad happens this time.”

“You’ve got kind of shitty luck with those,” he said, taking your other bowl, digging into it.

You were in the soaking hot water, bubbles everywhere as you relaxed for about five minutes before the door flung open.

“Hey!” you shouted, tucking your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself even if you were safely protected by the layer of foam. Dean had wide eyes and shoved the door shut, pressing up against it. “What the-”

“Get dressed,” said Dean, a pounding at the door and Dean’s eyes shutting making you move fast. “We have an unexpected problem.”

“What’s-”

“Well, it’s Sam. I kind of forgot with everything going on,” said Dean. “It must be his rut. He kind of freaked out and ran over this way.”

“And I’m naked in a bathtub,” you said, standing up, drying off fast and tossing on your clothes.

“Sammy?” shouted Dean. “You alright out there?”

“I’m not in a rut you fucking idiot! I need to talk to Y/N, now,” said Sam. “Right fucking now!”

“It’s okay,” you said, Dean opening his eyes and carefully opening the door but putting himself between you and his little brother. “What’s wrong Sam?”

“You’re all over the news. You’re wanted, Y/N. Colorado must have used his police friends to ruin your life if we’re gonna ruin his,” said Sam.

“Well shit.”

A/N: Read Part 7 here!

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[junker-town]

The case for Denver Nuggets skepticism

The Nuggets had a charmed season last year. Are they about to fall back to reality?

The Nuggets will show how hard the journey from good to great really is.

The Denver Nuggets broke out last season as a lovable collection of complementary misfits. On their way to the second-most wins in franchise history, the Nuggets dazzled with unpredictable, synchronized ball and player movement that made it seem like no group enjoyed each other’s help more than they did.

Denver made a massive leap on defense, handled lengthy injuries to Will Barton, Gary Harris, and Michael Porter Jr. with poise, and watched their franchise player go from cult hero to household name. And yet, I never believed they were anything more than a karaoke contender. After a summer in which they doubled down on the roster that got them there (a sensical trade for Jerami Grant notwithstanding), maxed out Jamal Murray before they had to/should have, and watched the rest of the league sharpen its teeth into a row of steak knives, I remain dubious.

As we approach a season that will either solidify or damage Denver’s status, most Las Vegas sportsbooks have set their win total between 50 and 53. ESPN’s Real Plus-Minus projections believe they’ll finish second in the Western Conference, behind the Houston Rockets. I’m skeptical. Months removed from their first playoff appearance in six years, Denver’s season holds the texture of a rorschach test. Was it a step forward, a squandered opportunity, or even a complete aberration—the feel-good story that came together too fast? This year, the Nuggets will either build on their growth or slink back towards mediocrity.

The former’s case isn’t hard to make. There is something to be said about the importance of continuity, and no team is more invested in sustaining it than Denver. All ten of their minutes leaders from 2018-19 are back. Nikola Jokic is 24 years old. Murray is 22 years old. Harris turned 25 last weekend.

But there are several reasons to think the Nuggets are due for the type of lapse that tends to bite up-and-coming teams in the backside right when they think they’ve turned a corner. Before diving into the specific issues that may keep this team farther from a title than last year’s showing might suggest — including Jokic’s defense, Murray’s volatility, and Paul Millsap’s age — let’s first look at a few statistical regressions they’re about to confront.

The Nuggets had more clutch wins than any other team last season. They came out on top in a league-high 67.4 percent of all games that entered the final five minutes with a scoring margin of five points or fewer. This isn’t a reliable recipe from year to year, and, surprisingly, Denver’s success was bound by an NBA-best 95.5 defensive rating — the same side of the floor where most of my own doubt lingers. Sustaining that edge-of-your-seat success in 2020 won’t be easy, and it’s only reasonable to believe a few more of those close games will end in disappointment.

There are several reasons to think the Nuggets are due for the type of lapse that tends to bite up-and-coming teams in the backside

The Nuggets also had some luck in one area that has traditionally been their Achilles’ heel. Last season their opponents shot a league-low 34.4 percent from three. In the previous three seasons they were lit up, finishing 29th, 27th, and 28th in opposing three-point percentage. (Only the Boston Celtics allowed a lower percentage on “open” attempts in 2018-19.) From there, it’s no surprise to see that Denver’s opponents shot a league-low 20.2 percent from deep in the clutch, too. In other words, the Nuggets finished third in win differential for reasons that don’t signal a long, smooth ascent. None of these numbers are indicative of infrastructural problems, but the margins out West are paper thin. If they dip as teams like the Clippers, Lakers, Rockets, Jazz, Spurs, Pelicans, etc. rise, it could be a problem.

But more important big-picture dilemmas exist, the most notable being Jokic’s defense. In his first playoffs, Jokic’s offense was almost identical to his regular season: he was exceptional. But reasons for worry poked their head up on the other end. Jokic isn’t a hopeless defender — think of his struggle as more of a glass ceiling than impenetrable force field — but right now his physical limitations prevent Denver from adapting on the fly how most champions can. The Nuggets had the postseason’s third-worst defense, and in the regular season it crumpled whenever Jokic was on the floor without Millsap. To be fair, Denver’s defense also struggled when Millsap played without Jokic; Grant’s presence beside each one while the other is resting may be the solution. But regardless of who else is on the floor, the best offenses will hunt Jokic in myriad ways throughout the fourth quarters that really matter.

In the second round, Portland did a great job using Jokic’s man to set off-ball screens, involving him in less predictable ways that attacked his mind as much as his pudgy frame. His head was on a constant swivel, and in their biggest possession of the season — down one with 20 seconds left in a do-or-die Game 7 — the Nuggets took the floor with Jokic on the bench. (He fouled out of Games 5 and 6, too.)

Murray is not ready for the vital role they need him to fill

The Spurs were more concentrated in their gameplan, running simple high pick-and-rolls with DeMar DeRozan and Jokic’s man during important stretches of their first-round series. Jokic struggles here, but not devastatingly so. He knows how to take up space, gamble with cause, and can even slide his feet with enough retractable speed to smother guards at the rim. Now he needs to prove he can do it on a consistent basis against the best players in the league, over and over again.

Criticism of Jokic is fair. He’s not perfect. But without him this organization wouldn’t be worth the time it takes to research and write a column about whether they deserve to be viewed as a contender. His progress will dictate Denver’s future. To an almost equal degree, the same can be said about Murray. His future is blinding, but whenever I watch Murray play I see a teenager trying to handle a zippy Lamborghini Countach on his way home from a road test that he barely passed. Shepherding a team this talented through four playoff rounds takes a level of stoicism and sophistication Murray doesn’t have. That’s not his fault, of course. He’s young, and Denver’s offense was lush with him as an active participant last season.

But if winning it all is the goal in 2020, Murray is not ready for the vital role they need him to fill. Maybe that changes in 2021 or 2022. His steep learning curve suggests it may. But the league-wide window to win it all is now. Who knows what the NBA’s hierarchy will look like in two years?

While Murray creeps towards what he’ll eventually be, the Nuggets are built to feed off someone who’s already there. To have him be the second offensive option is too much of a wild card. (This take might be too hot for public consumption but I don’t think Jamal Murray is even the NBA’s best young guard named Murray.)

It’s fine to debate the topic but to me Murray is more of an asset than the indispensable building block Denver evidently sees, and I wonder how far they would’ve gone last year with a steadier hand. Murray’s game has a higher ceiling than Mike Conley’s ever did, but it’s fun to think about Conley sliding in beside Jokic as Denver’s primary caretaker. Going forward, if the Boston Celtics and Nuggets both struggle to reach their own expectations before the trade deadline, a Kemba Walker for Murray swap makes some sense for both sides, too. More realistically, I wouldn’t hesitate to include Murray in a Godfather offer for Bradley Beal. Do that and Denver is feared instead of captivating — 10 percent less jittery.

Again, I realize how harsh all this sounds. At 21, Murray averaged 18 points, five assists, and four rebounds on a team that won one more game than Damian Lillard’s Blazers and James Harden’s Rockets. But sometimes it’s unclear why we feel the way we do about certain players; my hesitation to buy in might simply boil down to the fact that in three NBA seasons Murray’s three-point percentage is 36.2. On par, that’s not bad, but for someone who doesn’t get to the line, takes more long twos than he should, and made over 40 percent of his threes in college, it’s not great.

Murray wasn’t my cup of tea before the Nuggets offered him a maximum contract extension, and if Denver’s bet on what he can be doesn’t pan out like they anticipate it will, pivoting won’t be easy. This team is getting expensive while bleeding trade assets. They owe a top-10 protected 2020 first-round pick to the Oklahoma City Thunder and Porter Jr. is a total unknown. Millsap turns 35 in February and replacing him (or keeping him) won’t be cheap.

At this point, their path to max cap room doesn’t really exist until the final year of Jokic’s contract, when replenishing around him and Murray after Harris hits free agency may be a possibility. But that much patience can leave them susceptible to Jokic’s departure. Tomorrow is promised to no team, and unless Tim Connelly spurned his hometown Washington Wizards to play wait-and-see, serious moves may be necessary.

The Nuggets aren’t dumb, though, as is evident by the path they took to get where they are. Before the 2014-15 season I wrote a piece about Denver’s incoherent path back to relevance. The Nuggets had just missed the playoffs for the first time in ten years, Kenneth Faried and Ty Lawson were their two best players, and Brian Shaw was about to explore a rap career. Despite drafting Jokic in June, the organization was blind. A few years later they might be more watchable than anybody else. They’ve won with flair, youth, and unique talent, sure, but of even more importance: Denver has slowed down over the last few years, ambling into a style of play that’s less gimmicky and more a reflection of what must be done if truly serious about a lengthy playoff run. There’s confidence in that stylistic adjustment. The Nuggets are no longer dependent on the Mile High air’s energy-sapping power. They want every arena to feel like home.

Long-term plans have become a fool’s errand, but if Denver’s is to preserve what it currently is for as long as it possibly can, to believe this core can mimic the same home-grown charm that popped up in the Bay Area half a decade ago, nobody will oppose. There’s nothing wrong with winning 50 games every year and then crossing your fingers when the weather turns warm.

But in NBA lingo, for those who want to win the whole thing, internal improvement is increasingly synonymous with stagnation. Risk is a means for survival as much as growth. Murray isn’t Steph Curry, Harris isn’t Klay Thompson, and Millsap isn’t as young or as cheap as Andre Iguodala was when he first decided to climb aboard something special. In the immediate future, they must learn to live with Jokic’s defensive shortcomings — blemishes that will never eclipse all the mind-numbing positives he brings to the table — hope Murray’s fourth season yields an All-Star appearance and that Millsap stays healthy.

Murray’s max extension limits their flexibility, both on the trade market and in free agency next summer, when Millsap’s contract expires and Malik Beasley (who is good!) needs a second contract. In the meantime, questions abound for a team that enters 2020 having to prove itself in a way other playoff locks do not. Maybe they explode and make everything I just wrote look foolish, but waiting a whole year to find out could be more costly than it currently seems. The journey from good to great is so difficult, especially when more can go wrong than go right.

[thisdaynews]

How the economy could make or break Trump in 2020

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/how-the-economy-could-make-or-break-trump-in-2020-2/

How the economy could make or break Trump in 2020

As year four unfolds, several key numbers and trends will determine just how much the economy will help Trump overcome impeachment, low approval ratings and serious shortcomings with women and minority voters.

“The stock market he’s got. Wages he’s got. The consumer side of the economy is working really well,” said Gary Cohn, Trump’s first National Economic Council director. “The soft underbelly is [that] capital expenditure is not there.“

“He stood there in Pennsylvania and talked about bringing steel mills back and what’s happened is we’ve cut steel lines,” Cohn said. “We gave companies a big tax cut then took it away with tariffs. These are the pieces that are missing. I think he could have had it all. And he doesn’t have it all.”

Here’s a guide to some of the key economic trends and numbers in Trump’s fourth year that could help determine if he survives the rest of the chaos that swirls around his presidency each day.

Manufacturing

U.S. manufacturing fell into recession for all of 2019, according to data from the Federal Reserve, with industrial production dropping 1.3 percent for the year — a sore spot for a president who promised his tough approach to trade would return robust factory growth to the American heartland. Industrial production dropped 0.3 percent in December alone.

The worst case scenario for Trump on this front is that approval of the new NAFTA deal and a truce in the tariff battle with China fail to revive the manufacturing sector. Factories showed some positive signs early last year only to fall back again, hit by a strike at GM and a big hit from Boeing halting production of its 737Max jets.

But there are at least some signals that the worst could be past.

Completing the first phase of the China trade deal “in theory ought to boost the manufacturing sector in the short term,” Pantheon Macroeconomics chief U.S. economist Ian Shepherdson said in a note to clients. China’s commitment to boost its purchases of U.S. factory goods by $33 billion relative to 2017, before the trade war began, amounts to a 1.5 percent increase in manufacturing.

That’s “not a macro game-changer, but not trivial, either,” he said. On the downside, much of the existing China tariffs remain in place, a continuing drag on manufacturing costs.

Key date to watch:Feb. 3. The next manufacturing report from the Institute for Supply Management comes out the first weekday in February. Can the United States-Mexico-Canada Agreement and the China deal help push the index back above 50, into expansion territory? That would be a big win for the White House, especially if it’s sustained and Trump can talk about real manufacturing growth.

Jobs and economic growth

Trump is on solid ground bragging about job creation under his watch, with the three-month average still close to 200,000 new jobs a month and unemployment at a historically low 3.5 percent. He has not, however, delivered year after year of economic growth above 4 percent — as he promised during the campaign and when touting the 2017 tax cut bill.

U.S. economic growth nearly hit 3 percent for 2018 after the tax bill unleashed a wave of initial corporate spending. But growth slowed again in 2019 as the trade war intensified and the rest of the world slowed down, with the fourth quarter not expected to exceed 2 percent.

Trump badly needs more robust GDP numbers to tout on the trail. And at least some of his more ardent economic supporters think he could get them. Residential construction spiked to a 13-year high in December and consumer spending remains strong.

New homes often come along with spending on other durable goods and can help drive up GDP even in the face of continuing trade pressure and other worries that could mount over the outcome of the election in the second half of the year.

“It’s highly likely that there’s very strong growth at least in the first half of the year that is sort of tempered later by threats over election uncertainty, which tend to slow things down a bit,” said conservative economist Kevin Hassett, who formerly served as chair of Trump’s Council of Economic Advisers. “Also, it’s worth noting that wages are growing faster for those without a college degree than with a college degree.” That, presumably, would help Trump among his blue-collar base.

Key dates to watch:July 30, when the initial estimate of second-quarter GDP is released. Most estimates for the first quarter are still around 2 percent. If Trump is going to get a 2020 bump in GDP that he can take into the heart of the campaign season, this is likely when it would come.

Oct. 2:This will be the final jobs report before Election Day. The numbers will be important all year, but the final reading of the campaign cycle will indicate whether the trends in job growth and low unemployment remain steady. If the numbers soften — as some economists expect — and unemployment is rising, it wouldn’t be deadly for Trump but it could deliver some nasty headlines and make his pitch to voters more difficult.

Swing-state jobs numbers

While the national jobs numbers look strong, that’s not entirely the case in some key swing states such as Pennsylvania where the unemployment rate is ticking up and hit 4.3 percent in November. Among the drivers: plant closings and threatened layoffs like those made by Allegheny Technologies, which said it could lay off at least 100 workers due to tariffs on imported steel used in making final products.

Unemployment in Michigan is also higher than the national average, at 4.0 percent. Swing-state Wisconsin is in better shape at just 3.3 percent. Ohio may only barely be a swing state anymore but it also boasts a jobless rate of 4.2 percent that has been rising for the last few months.

Ohio was also on track for a net job loss in 2019, the first time since the Great Recession, according to the Columbus Dispatch, which also called into question Trump’s claims of bringing automotive jobs to the state.

These numbers will likely only matter if a Democrat can go into these states and make the case that Trump has not actually improved economic matters much, if at all, despite his robust Make America Great Again claims.

“The question is whether Joe Biden or somebody can go in there and come up with something different and something better,“ Cohn said. “And frankly they’d start with most of the women and minorities in the world hating Trump and they’d have to add to that.”

Key dates to watch: Swing-state employment figures will come from monthly reports on job trends that lag behind the national figures. Moves in the wrong direction, especially in the Midwest, will create an opening for the eventual Democratic nominee as Election Day approaches.

Read More

[boldlyindecisive]

Prompt: Bucky x Reader

Anon Prompt: Hi. For fanfic inspiration how about Bucky Barnes and Female reader both coping with after reviving from the snap and Steve’s choice. Romance too btw

Author's Note: I've never written "Interest" x Reader before. I wasn't 100% sure how to go about it. But it was fun. It was also my first superhero fanfic. Thanks, Anon!

(P.S. I know it's bad, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.)

_____________________________

It’s been a few months since everyone returned. Your family is back; your friends are back, but there’s still a part of you that hasn’t returned. You tap your foot and cross your arms as you listen to the group pass stories. A few stopped coming here after everyone returned, even Steve. You wonder if you still go because you know that’s what he would have wanted - all of us here, all of us together, until we’re ready to part ways.

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ears and sit up straighter, getting ready for your turn to speak. But a figure enters the room, stealing everyone’s attention. Unsure of whether to be relieved or annoyed, you lean back and stare at this vaguely familiar face shrouded in messy black hair.

“Hi. I’m Bucky B-”

One of the group members stood up, “You’re Winter Soldier.” The rest of the group went ridgid.

“Yeah. A lot has happened. But I was close with Steve. I’m glad to see you’re still meeting. He would have wanted that.”

The man who identified Bucky remained standing. “Are you here to check up on us?”

“No, I’m just here to find some peace in what’s possibly left of my best friend.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, noticing the way he crossed his arms to cover the metal hand sticking out of the black hoodie sleeve.

The group shuffled to get a chair for him and make room. He sat opposite of you, a brief glance was exchanged as he looked at everyone.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please, continue.”

Gary noticed your nervous habits, “Hey, how have you been holding up?”

Your foot starts tapping again as you stare at the floor. You’ve done your best to explain your emotions before, how Thanos isn’t the reason you’re hurting and the Avengers haven’t done anything to fix what you’re going through. It sounds silly compared to why everyone else came to this group, but you were damaged long before these otherworldly events took place. “I feel the same. But now my therapist is back to tell me she’s proud of me for coming to this group.”

Gary leans forward, “That was a big step for all of us. And I’m glad to see so many faces still coming here. Just because everyone is back doesn’t mean all of our problems are feelings are immediately fixed.”

You avert your eyes from everyone else “Yeah, that’s really all.”

“Well, everyone. I guess that’s it. Unless Bucky, you have anything to share?”

“Not today.”

Gary stood up, with everyone taking the lead. “Next week, everyone. Until then, take care of yourselves.”

You lingered when you noticed Bucky never moved. “I miss him, too. Knowing him was the silver lining of this whole mess.” Bucky stared at you and nodded slightly. “Wanna grab some coffee?

You put up the hood to your zip up sweater as as you stepped into the cold night air. It was still strange to see so many people walking around. You walk in silence through the crowded streets when Bucky stops suddenly. He looks into the cloudy windows of a dive bar, “You know, we use to go to a place like this.”

You walked in without a word; he quickly followed behind you. “I thought you wanted to get coffee.”

You sat on an empty stool at the end of the bar and watched him take a seat beside you. “If I’m behind honest, I’m just tired of being alone.”

The bartender took your orders. His was a classy whiskey on the rocks. Yours was a Jack and Coke because you couldn’t stand whiskey on its own.

He took a sip and pushed his hair out of his face. You tried not to think about his metal arm. Your nerves kept you silent as you drank faster than expected.

He smirked, “Well if that’s how it’s going to be…” He sucked down his whiskey and ordered a second round.

“So how’s it feel being an international threat to a hero?” You sipped through the tiny straw, feeling less nervous with each gulp.

He held his glass, his thumb sweeping around the condensation. “Surreal. What’s it feel like being a civilian?”

“Other than the existential dread that aliens are going to wipe out the planet at any moment, pretty mundane.” You felt the beginning fuzz of the alcohol sweep across your brain. “You know, you get the boring worries about work, and bills, and whether or not you’ll find someone willing and capable of sharing the load. Until you realize that no one can or will share the weight of all your worries.” You finished your drink. His hair back in front of his face.

“All we ever want out of life is to do some good. Then you meet people like Steve Rogers who defines doing good and then you wonder how you could ever live up to it.” He waved to the bartender for a third round.

“I’ve never met someone who could simultaneously bring out your best qualities and make you feel like you’re not good enough.”

A grin spread across his lips. He looked at you and you wondered when the last time he smiled was. “I don’t think knowing him could be summed up any better.” He leaned closer and told a story from before Steve became Captain America. You studied his face; how his eyes seemed bright to talk about his missed friend. You laughed with him, forgetting how unnatural it had felt to smile.

Another round of drinks went by as you relished in his stories. You sat on the edge of your seat, your knees hitting every so often as Bucky became an animated storyteller. You both laughed hard, tears hanging in your glazed eyes.

A fifth round was called for, but the world was already a blur for you. You took a deep breath and a shallow sip. You looked up at him, your knees now interlocked. “He talked about you.”

His face got serious.

“I think he’d want you to know that he was always trying to live up to you, too.”

He stared at you, his lips parted slightly.

You felt the knots in your stomach build up. You quickly reached into your pocket and placed your cash onto the bar. “I should get going.” You felt as though you floated to the door. The cold air didn’t help to make you feel less dizzy.

You started to walk home and stumbled after a few steps. You felt someone grab you.

“Sorry, I kept ordering. Can I make sure you get home safe?” Bucky kept squeezed your shoulders lightly to make sure you could stand properly.

“Yeah, okay.”

“How far do you live from here? Want me to get you a cab?”

“A few blocks from here. Yeah, that’d probably be best.”

He hailed a cab as he kept a hand under your elbow to keep you steady.

You slurred your address to the driver as Bucky slid into the car beside you.

You closed your eyes to avoid the motion sickness of the passing lights and signs. Bucky kept his hands in his sweatshirt pockets and stayed close to you. You rested your head on his shoulder, disappointed that the night was about to end, disappointed that you were this drunk.

The cab driver pulled over and announced the fair. You pulled more money out of your pocket and said “Keep the change.” He helped you up the steps to the door of your building.

“What floor do you live on?”

“The fourth.”

He smirked, “Tell me there’s an elevator.”

“No.”

“I said I’d make sure you got home safe. Let me walk you up.”

You smiled and gripped his arm as you entered the building.

Four flights later, you felt like you’d run a marathon. He got you to your door and watched you fumble with your keys.

“I’m starving,” you mumble as you finally get the right key in place and open the door.

“I’m a pretty good cook.”

You stopped in the doorway and looked up with wide hopeful eyes, “Bucky Barnes, will you make me some eggs.”

He laughed and nodded, following you in.

You set your keys on the counter and sat on the barstool. You folded your arms and rested your head on the table. “I don’t know where anything is.”

“I think I can figure it out.”

You could hear him fumbling around the kitchen. A clank hit the counter in front of you.

“First, drink this and take these.” He’d found your aspirin and set down a large glass of water. “Trust me, that now will help you later.”

You noticed he’d shed his black sweater. He wore a simple v neck t-shirt. You stared at his metal arm as he cracked eggs into a pan. You took the aspirin and chugged the entire glass of water. You were nowhere near sober, but the spinning was starting to slow down.

He took your glass and refilled it. “You like coffee?”

“Mmhmm.” You answered while drinking more water.

You watched him move through the kitchen, preparing what could either be the best or worst breakfast you’ve ever had. Bucky left all the cabinet doors open, making it easier for him to find things as he needed.

“Start with this.” He set down a plate of toast and a cup of coffee. He went back to continue scrambling the eggs and hit his forehead on the corner of a cabinet door. You choked on your coffee. He continued his task. “You didn’t see that.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, The Winter soldier.”

He shook his head and laughed.

A few minutes later a hot plate of cheesy scrambled eggs and more toast sat in front of you. He leaned on the counter island and you looked up at him. Your voice soft, you thanked him.

“Truth be told, I didn’t want to be alone either.”

You smiled and took a deep breath. “Alright, time to see how good of a cook you are.”

He laughed, “Well the Army did teach me more than just how to shoot.” He picked up your fork and took a bite. “Mmm. This is one of my better batches.” He picked up a few more pieces of egg.

“Well, hey now, I believe you made those for me.”

Bucky held out the fork towards you and grinned. You leaned forward, watching him, and consumed the eggs off the fork. Your eyes widened, “Okay, you’re pretty damned good.” You took the fork from his hand and ate another bite.

He laughed and rushed to your side of the island, sitting on the second stool. He tried to take the fork back, but you swiveled around and ate another bite.

“Okay, okay.” You said, before taking a sip of coffee to wash the food down. You swiveled back towards him, your legs touching. He rested his metal arm on the island and watched you as you held out a fork full of eggs towards him.

Bucky was still for a moment, the grin fading from his lips. He took the fork from your hand and set it on the plate. You bit your lip briefly as he leaned closer to you. You closed your eyes and felt his soft lips against yours. Without thinking, you leaned into it the kiss, and set your hands on his knees to hold yourself up. His metal fingers brushed against your arm.

Your inner thighs squeezed his knees while your palms pressed into them harder as you moved closer to him.

Bucky placed his hand on the back of your neck. He stood; his lips never leaving yours, you followed his lead. The counter pushed into your back as he pressed his body against you. Your heart beat faster; you tugged at the back of his shirt. He pressed his pelvis against you; you let out a soft, needy moan and dug your fingertips into his back.

You broke away, “Wait.”

He stepped back, his cheeks red. “Oh, I’m sor-”

“No, no no.” You kicked off your shoes. “Not here.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him into your bedroom. You stopped near the bed and kissed him again.

Bucky unzipped your sweatshirt and pushed it off your shoulders. You felt a slight chill across your barely covered chest and arms. The string lights hanging behind your bed gave off a soft glow that reflected off of his arm. You gripped his arms and spun him toward the bed; he followed the pressure from your hands and sat down, watching you eagerly.

You straddled him and reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. His hands traveled down your arms to your back, pulling your shirt up. Bucky slid his hands under your shirt and up your back. His metal hand was cold and smoother than you expected. He tossed your top to the floor and trailed kisses down your neck. You rolled your hips against him.

“I’ve never hated clothes more.” You whispered toward the ceiling. You broke away from him and stood, unzipping your jeans. Again, he followed your lead and undressed. Sudden shyness stopped you for a moment as you stared at his bare skin in the soft light.

Bucky stepped close to you and lifted your chin, forcing you to look up. You expected a kiss, but he just stared into your eyes, his lips slightly parted. He slipped his fingers beneath the waist of your jeans and beneath the hemline of your boyshorts; he pushed the fabric down your hips. Your eyes were wide with anticipation. He reached down a little further, his lips close to yours as you felt your clothes call to the floor. Leaving your lips wanting, he kissed your neck and unclasped your bra. He pushed the straps from your shoulders and let it fall to the floor between you.

His hands traveled across your bare skin. You closed your eyes and bit your lip. “Lay down,” he whispered in your ear. Your heart fluttered at the gentle command.

You rested your head on the pillows and watched him crawl towards you.

His body hovered over yours briefly while he pushed a knee between yours. Pushing your legs apart, he rested against you and put a hand in your hair. You ached, growing impatient. You dragged your fingers lightly along his bare sides and moved your hips towards him.

Bucky smirked and kissed your lips. “Okay, I’ll stop making you wait.” You grinned in response. He moved himself inside you. You sharply sucked in a breath and tilted your head back. He leaned his head forward, you could feel his hot breath against your neck.

It was a blur of kisses, soft bites, and pleasure you hadn’t felt in a very long time. You lay breathless beside each other. The cool night air slipping in the drafty windows. You wriggled the sheets from beneath you and covered up. “So, will you be at next week’s meeting?”

His brows drew inward and looked at the ceiling. “Oh.”

You turned your head to look at him, “What?”

“Are you kicking me out?” A nervous grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Oh, no, I just thought, I guess I assumed.” You stammered.

Bucky turned on his side and propped himself up on his metal arm, “Because if it’s alright with you, I still don’t feel like being alone.”

You looked back into his dark brown eyes, “Stay.”

[thegloober]

The Most Disappointing Player in MLB [2018 Season Review]

The Yankees and the 2018-19 Offseason Calendar

(Mike Ehrmann/Getty)

Coming into the 2018 season, nowhere else on the field did I think the Yankees would have a bigger advantage over their opponents than at catcher. The only catcher who I was comfortable assuming would outproduce Gary Sanchez this season was Buster Posey, and even that was a little up in the air.

The Yankees called Sanchez up for good on August 2nd, 2016, following their trade deadline purge. Here’s where Gary ranked among all catchers from that date through the end of the 2017 regular season (min. 400 plate appearances for rate stats):

AVG: .283 (sixth)

OBP: .357 (fourth)

SLG: .561 (first by 48 points)

wRC+: 140 (first by 13 points)

HR: 41 (first by seven)

XBH: 66 (tied for first)

There was a weird little narrative floating around Spring Training that said, despite all their high quality players, Sanchez was the Yankees’ best hitter. I never really bought into it (folks, Aaron Judge is really freakin’ good) but it wasn’t the craziest thing in the world, I don’t think. Now? Now it sounds silly.

Sanchez’s disaster 2018 season ended with a .186/.291/.406 (89 wRC+) batting line and 18 home runs in 374 plate appearances around a pair of groin-related stints on the disabled list. There have been 1,005 instances of a player batting 300 times in a single season for the Yankees. Gary’s .186 AVG is second lowest to someone named Red Kleinow (.168 in 1908).

I guess the good news is Sanchez did hit two homers in ALDS Game Two, which helped the Yankees even the series at a game apiece. That’s more than anyone other than Judge did in the series.

? Defensively, Sanchez again led the league in passed balls, this time committing 18 in 653 innings. Last year it was 16 in 881 innings. He struggled on both sides of the ball and was, hands down, the most disappointing Yankee in 2018. In fact, I’d call him the most disappointing player in baseball this year. Who else flopped so greatly after going into 2018 with such high expectations? I can’t think of anyone.

That the Yankees won 100 games despite Sanchez’s awfulness is a testament to their talent and depth and in no way absolves Gary. Who knows where the Yankees would’ve wound up had Sanchez played up to expectations? Let’s dig into Gary’s disaster season.

Power, But Little Else

I know everyone wants to talk about the defense and passed balls, but we’ll get to that in a moment. We have to start with the offense because Gary will forever be a bat first player, and this season he was terrible with the bat. You saw the overall batting line: .186/.291/.406 (89 wRC+) in nearly 400 plate appearances. The 18 homers salvaged things a bit — even with all the missed time, Sanchez still had the fifth most homers among catchers — but the AVG and OBP? Yuck.

Gary started the season slowly, going 2-for-36 (.056) with zero walks in his first nine games. He went on a six-week tear after that, hitting .292/.396/.681 (185 wRC+) with eleven home runs in 31 games from April 11st through May 21st. That was the Gary Sanchez everyone was expecting. After that though? Sanchez cratered and hit .151/.264/.285 (53 wRC+) in his final 49 games around the groin injuries. Gary’s season in graph form:

Throughout the season I saw two common explanations bandied about for Sanchez’s struggles: He chased out of the zone too much and he got too pull happy. Possible! Except Sanchez posted the lowest chase rate (33.1%) and lowest pull rate (51.1%) in his relatively brief big league career. That doesn’t mean Sanchez didn’t chase too often or get too pull happy at times — both those rates are above the league average (30.4% and 40.3%) — it just means this wasn’t as big a problem as it may have seemed.

One thing Gary continued to do this year, even while struggling, is hit the ball hard. Very hard. His 41.6% hard hit rate and 90.3 mph average exit velocity were both well above the 34.1% and 87.3 mph league averages, respectively. Sanchez managed a 90.3 mph average exit velocity and a .343 xwOBA. Seventy players posted an average exit velocity north of 90 mph this year while putting at least 200 balls in play. The bottom of the leaderboard:

66. D.J. LeMahieu: .352 xwOBA 67. Melky Cabrera: .352 xwOBA 68. Ian Desmond: .346 xwOBA 69. Gary Sanchez: .343 xwOBA 70. Russell Martin: .317 xwOBA

Expected weighted on-base average, or xwOBA, is based on exit velocity and launch angle and things like that. It essentially tells us what a player would be expected to produce based on the quality of his contact. Sanchez hit the ball quite hard this year, yet his expected production was relatively low. Statcast has all sorts of neat batted ball breakdowns that help explain why.

Weak Topped Under Flare Solid Barrel 2017 Sanchez 2.5% 31.0% 21.4% 26.5% 6.8% 11.8% 2018 Sanchez 2.6% 34.2% 26.8% 15.6% 6.9% 13.9% MLB AVG 4.8% 34.4% 24.3% 24.9% 5.5% 6.1%

Here’s the full definition of a barrel. The short version: It’s the best possible contact. High exit velocity at an ideal launch angle. Sanchez, even this year, squares balls up at an extraordinarily high rate. More than double the league average, in fact. The 18 home runs and overall power production tell us Gary still made a lot of loud contact this year. When he squared a pitch up, he absolutely crushed it.

The biggest difference between 2017 Sanchez and 2018 Sanchez is that a lot of flares — those are balls that are not necessarily well struck, but do fall in for hits — were replaced by pitches Sanchez either topped or got under. You can hit a ball hard and still hit a grounder. A topped ball is a weak grounder. And getting under a pitch is, well, getting under a pitch. A pop-up or a routine fly ball. Replacing flares with topped pitches and getting under the ball is how you go from a .304 BABIP in 2017 to a .197 BABIP* in 2018 like Sanchez.

* Reliable stat keeping goes back far enough that there are 21,946 player seasons of at 300 plate appearances on record. Sanchez’s .197 BABIP is 33rd lowest among those 21,946 seasons. Insane.

The two disabled list stints probably didn’t help matters — including minor league rehab, Sanchez had 46 plate appearances from June 24th through August 31st — but my theory is Gary launch angled himself out of whack at the plate. I think he sold out for power and I think it got worse as the season went on. There were times it looked like Sanchez was trying to hit a five-run home run to make up for his entire season in one at-bat. I think he sold out for power, threw himself into a mechanical funk, then started pressing when he wasn’t having the season we all expected, and that made it all worse.

A few pieces of good news. One, Sanchez was still able to hit the ball hard. I’d be much more worried going forward if he wasn’t hitting the ball hard. The ability to drive the ball like few others is still in there. We saw it in the postseason. Two, Sanchez’s strikeout rate didn’t explode this year. He finished the year with a 25.1% strikeout rate, which is higher than last year (22.9%) but not outrageously so. A strikeout rate nearing or above 30% would’ve been worrisome.

And three, Sanchez really upped his walk rate this year. His 12.3% walk rate is far higher than last year’s 7.6% walk rate. Gary drew 40 walks (one intentional) in 525 plate appearances last year. He drew 46 walks (zero intentional) in 374 plate appearances this year. I don’t think there’s a physical deficiency here. It’s not like Sanchez lost strength. The adjustment this offseason figures to be more mechanical and more about approach.

“They were pitching me very tough throughout the whole season. They were executing very good pitches that were out of the strike zone, but I was swinging at them,” said Sanchez to Randy Miller a few weeks ago. “That’s one of the things that I want to work on in the offseason. Command the strike zone better. Be a more selective hitter.”

The Passed Ball Hysteria

I hate passed balls and wild pitches. I watch an embarrassing amount of baseball and it seems to me the official scorer is guessing half the time. I’ve seen pitches skip through the catcher’s legs be called wild pitches and pitches in the other batter’s box be called a passed ball. I am for combining passed balls and wild pitches into one “passed pitches” stat that gets assigned to both the pitcher and catcher. Takes all the guesswork out of official scoring. /end rant

Anyway, Sanchez allowed 18 passed balls (63 passed pitches) in 653 innings this year after allowing 16 passed balls (69 passed pitches) in 881 innings last year. He went from one passed pitch every 12.8 innings to one every 10.4 innings. That’s one extra passed pitch every four games or so. Sanchez’s blocking issues came to a head one night in Oakland in early September, when four passed pitches (two passed balls and two wild pitches, officially) got by him in the first inning.

“I had a chance to stop all of them. I just didn’t do it,” Sanchez said after the game. “(Luis Severino and I) definitely had some trouble getting on the same page in the first inning. I would say there were some pitches there that I should have done a better job blocking or protecting them from going to the back.”

It’s easy to make excuses for Sanchez’s poor blocking. For starters, the Yankees have a pitching staff that isn’t easy to catch. The Yankees had the highest average fastball velocity (94.9 mph) and third highest average breaking ball spin rate (2,517 rpm) in baseball this year. That’s a lot of high-octane heaters and a lot of high-spinning breakers. Catching this pitching staff is not easy.

Secondly, MLB limited mound visits this season and that means fewer conversations — remember how often Sanchez visited the mound last year? — and thus greater potential for cross-ups. We saw a lot of them this year with Gary behind the plate. And third, pretty much every team is paranoid about sign-stealing this days and uses multiple signs with no one on. That also increases the chances of a cross-up and a ball getting by the catcher. I mean, look at the postseason. There seemed to be two or three balls getting by the catcher every game.

All of that should be considered when evaluating Sanchez’s blocking. Now, that all said, he is still really bad at it. People are quick to call Gary lazy the same way they were quick to call Robinson Cano lazy (gee, wonder what the connection is there) but, to me, this is a technique problem more than anything. For example, I have no idea what Sanchez is doing with his right leg here:

He does that all the time. Gary rarely drops to both knees to block pitches in the dirt, and instead leaves his five-hole wide open, and balls skips through. That has to be corrected. It won’t solve all of Sanchez’s passed ball issues — we’ve seen plenty of catchable pitches inexcusably clank off his glove — but it’ll help cut down on them, undoubtedly. The Yankees have three former catchers on the coaching staff (bench coach Josh Bard, catching coach Jason Brown, and assistant hitting coach P.J. Pilittere) and fixing that leg and improving Sanchez’s technique has to be a priority.

I suppose the good news is that, if you’re going to be (very) bad at something defensively as a catcher, blocking pitches a “good” thing to be bad at. Baseball Prospectus has detailed catcher defense stats and the best blocker (Tucker Barnhart) finished at +3.6 runs saved in 2018. The worst (Omar Narvaez) was at -4.6 runs. In one individual game, that extra 90 feet can be huge. Over the course of the season, blocking is not he most impactful thing in the game.

One-hundred-and-fifteen players caught in the big leagues this year, not counting Joe Mauer’s farewell pitch. Here’s where Sanchez ranks among those 115 catchers in BP’s various catcher defense metrics:

Framing: +3.3 runs (23rd)

Throwing: +0.2 runs (12th)

Blocking: -4.3 runs runs (114th)

Total Fielding: -0.9 runs (79th — this is everything above plus plays on pop-ups and grounders)

Kinda weird the throwing runs total is so low, isn’t it? James McCann led the league at +1.1 and Robinson Chirinos was last at -0.8. Huh. Well, whatever. (For what it’s worth, FanGraphs has Sanchez eighth with +2 throwing runs.)

These are counting stats, so Sanchez’s framing and throwing is hurt by the missed time while his blocking would’ve surely ranked last in the league had he played more. Point is, Sanchez is quite good at everything behind the plate except blocking. He frames well and he throws well, and the Yankees believe he calls a good game.

“I think he’s our best game-caller,” said Brian Cashman to Randy Miller a few weeks ago. “He shuts down the opposing team’s running game. And obviously, he’s a threat at the plate every pitch. So I think he’s by far our best option behind the plate for us.”

Gary stinks at blocking, and that’s kinda important, but it’s wrong to act like he offers nothing back there. He very clearly does. The throwing and framing are quite valuable. If you’re a believer in “pitcher performance with this specific catcher” stats, the pitching staff performed better with Sanchez (3.50 ERA and 93 OPS+) than either Austin Romine (4.06 and 104) or Kyle Higashioka (3.80 and 113) behind the plate this year. The Yankees have to help Gary improve his technique though. Whatever that is he’s doing with his right leg is costing him dearly.

What’s Next?

Not surprisingly, teams are already calling about Sanchez. They see an opportunity to buy low on a 25-year-old catcher with four years of team control who was the best hitter at the position a year ago. If Sanchez were on another team, we’d all want the Yankees to go out and get him. Catcher is an extremely hard position to fill and few backstops in the game offer Gary’s long-term potential.

A year ago at this time Sanchez looked to be on the cusp of superstardom. Now he’s more of a reclamation project. Sanchez has to get right at the plate, first and foremost. There are some approach and (likely) mechanical issues that need to be fixing. That’s most important. Gary also has to continue working on his blocking. That’s the missing piece defensively. An offseason trade is so very unlikely, meaning Sanchez will report to Tampa for Spring Training in a few weeks as the No. 1 catcher, and, after the season he just had, he’ll be under the microscope more than ever before.

The Yankees and the 2018-19 Offseason Calendar

Source: https://bloghyped.com/the-most-disappointing-player-in-mlb-2018-season-review/