#I better at least have a sweet dream about josh to make me feel somewhat better >:(

[myfriendtheghost]

goodnight, my sweet boy 🤍

[aerielz]

come and untangle me one of these days

- a dream. a mistake. company, to make it better.

This is for and because of everyone in the original Flower Shop!AU post notes, specially @claudiasjeancregg and @stars-on-the-cuffs-of-her-jeans. You guys went waaaay too fast and I’m still trying to put Donna in here let alone everyone else, but I do hope everyone enjoys this! Title from Come and Find Me, by Josh Ritter. I feel like everything I’ll ever write for this AU will be somehow based off this song, tbh.

fandom: the west wing pairings: JD, CJ/Toby wc: 2453 rating: gen tag: flowershop au

He wakes up at the crack of dawn, stirred by some weird dream he can’t quite remember — some bittersweet memory. The coffee he takes washes away the sweetness and he’s left with only the bitter of it, stuck to the back of his throat.

He leaves the house, then. The streets are still somewhat deserted, but, much like his hometown, DC never really sleeps. Toby walks the five minutes from his house to the shop, and watches as the sun comes up behind the Capitol dome.

Walking into the storefront proves itself a bigger hazard than his own mood, though, as he is almost run over by a flurry of blonde as soon as he steps through the threshold— “Wow.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!,” Donna is already there, crossing quickly towards a table under the wall-to-wall window with a spray bottle in hand and talking into a phone she holds with her shoulder. “Oh— no, no, don’t worry, that was just Mr. Ziegler. Yes, of course. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll let him know, don’t— tomorrow? That should be hard, how about Saturday? Okay. Okay, thank you so much, Dr. Bartlett.”

“Donna,” he says when she hangs up.

“Shouldn’t we receive a shipment of sunflowers this weekend?” She sprays a mist over an arrangement of daisies.

It's too early for this. Too early for and her energy and her incessant talking, but somehow Toby can never be mad at Donna. Even when she sends congratulatory arrangements to funerals by accident. Even when she turns around still spraying, causing him to find himself inside a cloud.

“Donna—”

“We’ll sure need them, Dr. Bartlett just called saying that Liz will be home for the weekend.”

"How many times I have to tell you to never call me Mr. Ziegler?"

"Should I call you Mr. Grumpy, then?"

"It's Mr. nothing, Donna."

"Oh, c'mon. Don’t be so harsh on yourself,” she jokes. But her quip lacks the bite and the sparkle, and Toby finally notices it — she was here before sunup, too.

He barely has time to register the conversation and that last fact when the bell above the door rings behind him. His heart skips a beat.

Donna looks up to check and her eyes widen, just a little bit. Just enough.

“Oh, God, no, not him,” he mutters to himself.

“Can anyone tell me what magnolias are supposed to stand for?”

Toby sighs, closing his eyes.

“This is a flower shop,” he says, turning around, “can’t say much about trees.”

Josh Lyman, arrogant extraordinaire, flashes a smirk, shrugging apologetically. "Maybe you should start thinking about expanding."

He swagger his way further into the shop, stopping just beside him.

“I—,” she says, putting a strand of hair behind her ear, “Well, actually flowers from magnolias are very common in bridal bouquets. They’re these beautiful, delicate, things, they’re supposed to be all about purity and nobility.”

This is why he keeps her here, Toby thinks. For every fact about flowers that he doesn’t know, Donna knows five he’s pretty sure no one but her knows about. But she looks down to the floor, and Toby thinks she sounds sad, somehow.

“Well, that..." Josh’s smirk quickly turns into a grimace. "That makes sense."

“The more you know,” he says, clapping his hands against his legs. "Well, you got your answer, then."

"Yeah, maybe... maybe we should focus on some other flower," Josh says.

Toby is more than ready to focus on showing Josh the door when—

The bell rings again.

Sam walks in, saying, "Oh. And here I was thinking I was gonna be the first."

Toby runs a hand over his face and takes a glance at his wristwatch. It’s barely seven. "Why are you all even up?"

"No reason," Josh answers. It's way too quick, but he's not about to question him.

"The magnolias, they..." Donna looks up directly at Josh, "Why you ask?"

"I— uh."

"Magnolias!," chimes in Sam, leaving his shoulder bag in a corner and sitting on top of the sales counter, right beside Donna, "Such pretty flowers! We're doing bridal bouquets, now? We should, the marriage stuff really is great business."

"Oh, God, no," Josh mutters.

"It really is!,” Sam continues, “There’s definitely money in the sector, and it’s not like it’s an unpleasant job. Donna here, for example, would love it. Anyone with a knack for romance would, really.”

“You work the afternoon shift,” Toby tells Sam, exasperated and already so, so, tired. “On weekends. What the hell are you doing here?”

“I have no idea, Josh was the one who called me.”

“And you came?”

"Absolutely," says Sam, almost triumphant. “I mean why not?”

“I can think of at least, I don’t know, twenty reasons.”

“Well, I like to help my friends when I can, Toby. For the same reasons I think we should really start doing weddings.”

“Unbelievable,” he cries out, “How did we even get to this point of the conversation, we are not doing weddings, what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m a romantic—”

“Yeah, that explains it.”

“—and you know what, I think you are one, too. I think most, if not all, of us here are. Or you're gonna tell me you wouldn't like the sight of the love of your life, surrounded by blooms and blossoms, walking her way towards you? Or, or— maybe doing that walk yourself, that would probably be quite an experience, right? C’mon, Donna, you look like someone who dreams about a big wedding, tell ‘em."

"I... really rather not."

"God, kill me. Right now," Josh mutters a bit too loud, "Just kill me."

Toby notices, strangely enough, that Donna seems to second that thought, but the impression barely has time to settle in because at that exact moment the door opens again. But instead of the light, almost quiet, chime of the bell, they hear a sharp shrill and a loud thud, from the door connecting violently with the wall.

"Joshua Lyman, I will have you hanged," a familiar voice booms.

"I didn’t mean literally," Josh whispers to no one.

"What the actual f— I mean, really, I am never leaving you in charge of the schedule again. Amy just called me asking for your head and I’m pretty sure Joey wants your nuts served on sterling silver — why the hell did you think it was a good idea to have everyone here at like six in the morning, Joshua?"

“Look—”

“Choose your next words carefully because in order for you to keep your internal organs on the inside of your body this will have to be really good.”

His answer ends up not coming in words at all, but in a pleading look — the wide eyes of a man who needs help.

The room awaits silently for Josh's defense, but Toby is looking at CJ, who, for some reason, seems to have a monopoly on his attention whenever she's in the room. And so he catches the moment when her gazes subtly travel to Donna's face. He follows just as carefully, to find her sniffling quietly, cleaning her eyes with the sleeves of her cardigan.

CJ swallows and tracks her eyes back to Josh. Something passes between the two, some understanding, that Toby is not privy to.

“Well." She sighs, rage completely gone. Everyone looks at her. "Since we’re here... maybe... we could all just have something nice to eat...? My treat.”

Josh is visibly relieved.

"I'll take you up on that," Sam says, "I haven't eaten a thing yet."

"You left home without eating?," Donna asks.

"I'm not used to waking up this early."

"Well, let's put some kind of food inside you then," CJ says.

"And coffee," he completes.

They all walk to the nearest café together, finding Bonnie on her bike on her way to work. She unmounts and joins them. Ginger arrives later, when they're all making a fuss over latte flavours, chipping in too. Seasonal spices are seasonal, that's why they're special!, cries out Donna. Nonsense, says Josh, what if I want pumpkin spice all year round, what's wrong with that?

Toby is equal parts impressed and not at all by Josh having an elaborate coffee order. He's hanging back behind the group, watching them have fun with nothing but their own friendship, when CJ finds him.

"What about you, Tobus, gonna drown yourself in cinnamon and allspice, too?," she asks.

He lets himself laugh, "I don't think I have it in me to drink something that complicated."

"A simple man, huh."

"You could say that," he tries and fails to hide a smile.

"I have just the thing."

She enters the line and comes back two minutes later, shoving a blueberry muffin into his hands.

"You didn't have to."

She's the one smiling, then. "I know."

CJ looks up ahead at the rest of their party and her gaze falls on Donna, going soft when she watches how openly the woman laughs while trying to argue some sense into Josh about something as innocuous as coffee.

“Why do I have the impression you know something about my own employee that I don’t...?," Toby asks, then takes a bite from his muffin. It's a bit too sweet for him, but it tastes good. It feels good, like replenishing something inside him.

“I... might.”

“CJ.”

“I’m not supposed to say anything.”

“Those flower arrangements, you like them a lot, right.”

“You don’t play fair.”

“It’s why I’ll never be a professional baseball player.”

“Could've had a chance with the Red Socks team of nineteen—”

“You don’t know anything about baseball, stop obfuscating.”

She sighs, sagging.

“She was supposed to be getting married today.”

Toby chokes on a piece of his muffin. CJ gives him a slap on the back.

“Married?”, he all but yells, between coughs.

“Keep your voice down!”

“What do you mean married?,” he whisper-yells, “You’re telling me she was supposed to marry that asshole?”

“We all make mistakes.”

“Voice of experience?”

“I’m a tattoo artist, Tobias, I have seen things.”

"Married," he repeats. "Married! She's, what, twenty-five? And she's supposed to be getting married to— to a guy who wanted her to throw her entire life away to—"

"I shouldn't have told you anything."

"—what, pay his bills?!"

He breathes in deeply and takes a big bite out of his muffin, knowing the sugar will help him cool down.

It must be quite a picture, his beard covered in crumbs while he munches angrily, because CJ looks at him like she’s about to burst into laughter.

“What?”

"I swear to god between you and Josh the girl’s got more protection than a mafia daughter.”

"Josh knows?," that explains a lot, he thinks. "You're not very good at keeping secrets are you."

"Listen pal, I am very good at it, I just... She needed help, okay?"

"And you think we’re the right people to help her?"

He's not being skeptical, he really isn't. But Donna’s far away from home, and she’s bound to be missing more substantial support. It is true that CJ has a way of making him feel better by just being there, though, and to be fair it is a general talent of hers. Regardless of his protests both her and Josh, they do this, somehow. They arrive, arguing over something tiny, and he forgets he’s worried about anything.

"Yeah, I mean," she shrugs, "isn’t that what friends are for?"

Toby looks up ahead at the people who came around the shop, and all the way here, too, just to keep each other company.

“I think it might work,” CJ concludes.

Between their party and the sugar in his system, he can’t remember what was it that upset him so much that morning.

They all sit on a big table outside the shop, still discussing seasonal lattes. Sam remembers some of his favorites, recalling one or two that never came back another year. Ginger and Bonnie share hot chocolate recipes, and Donna makes notes.

The sun settles itself in the sky and shines down warmly. The District starts moving faster, getting into the gears of the day.

Their regular opening hour approaches.

CJ rises from her place beside Toby and motions with her head for Josh to follow her.

“It's been nice to be robbed blind by a coffee shop chain for your benefit, but we better get to work.”

“Thanks for coming around,” Donna tells her, “I've been having a couple of rough days and…this helped.”

“You should come up to the shop, if it happens again,” CJ says. “Just to hang around. There's always someone there to keep you company.”

“Come today, even,” Josh completes, “I think Amy might not murder me if there’s witnesses.”

“Today's probably not gonna happen,” Donna answers, “We'll be doing some new arrangements, for a while, Dr. Bartlett called.”

“MD or PhD?”

“It’s a lot of work anyway, so does it really matter?”

Josh smiles, shaking his head, “I guess not.”

Is there someone he didn't call?, Toby thinks.

Josh and CJ bid the rest of the table goodbye and head in the direction of their shop. The conversation around them resumes, but Donna is chewing on her lips instead of jumping in to refute Sam's argumentation over croissants.

She steals a glance to watch their backs retreat on the sidewalk, but, before they can get too far, Donna bolts from her seat and stops Josh with a hand on his forearm.

“Josh.”

He stops and looks back. “Yeah?”

She hesitates. When she speaks, it is just loud enough for him to hear.

"Why did you ask about the magnolias?"

She notices she’s still holding him by his shirt and lets go of it, but Josh slides his hand into hers. "Someone came into the shop yesterday to get them done. They reminded me of you.”

He gives her hand a squeeze, that she returns. They share a smile.

“Maybe I could come around tomorrow?,” she says.

“Yeah,” he nods, “Yeah, I think I’d like that. See you tomorrow, then.”

A few steps behind Josh, CJ is watching them, too.

She finds Toby's gaze, when Josh releases Donna's hand to join her. And gives him a wink.

He laughs at the ridiculousness of it, at how warm it makes him feel. But something in the gesture between him makes him believe that there are better days ahead. For all of them.

He turns back to the table around him and when Donna sits down he finally gives in— “You’re all delusional, black forest is just chocolate and cherry, it tastes the same anywhere.”

—starting another round of protests that leads to laughter and lively conversation that lasts the rest of the day.

[bensakindofmagic]

Chapter Four

A/N: things are starting to heat up a little... as always, if you want to be tagged just drop me a message, feedback always welcome/encouraged etc etc

Warnings: mentions of sex, bit of swearing

w/c: 2.2k+

Chapter Four

You and the guys were chowing down on some much needed lunch after a hectic morning of shooting, and finally had a moment to chat.

“So how’d it go last night, Ben?” Joe asked with faux lightness.

His cheeks looked a little flushed as he pushed his pasta around the plate. “Yeah good.”

“Oh come on, we need more detail than that!” Rami laughed.

“I hear you didn’t get back to your trailer until the small hours of this morning,” you grinned. “Must be exhausted.” You shot him a wink over the edge of your cup as you took a sip. Ben’s cheeks burnt bright red.

“Well well well, Mr Smooth Talker. So much for needing practice,” Joe said provocatively.

“Who needs practice when you’ve got bone structure like that?” Gwil chirped.

Ben chuckled, “Coming from you, mate.”

“Before you lot start making out with each other, can you actually tell us what happened?” you interjected.

“What is there to tell?” he asked between mouthfuls of food, “We had sex and then I left.”

“Oh come on! Where’s the romance?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it romantic.”

You rolled your eyes, “I want all the juicy details.”

“Well we chatted for a while, we went outside for some air, I kissed her, we went back to her place.”

“Oh my god, boys,” you muttered under your breath. “What was the sex like?”

“Is that what you were asking?” he spluttered.

You moaned, exasperated, “Of course that’s what I was asking.”

“It was good I suppose.”

“Ben, babe, for the love of god you’re going to have to do better than that.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly mortified, but you were desperate for details and had gone too far to turn back now. You prompted, “This was your first time sleeping with someone after your girlfriend, right? What was it like.”

He looked up at you, still embarrassed but it appeared as though he was willing to share, “Weird. Not bad, but strange. She felt... I dunno, different.” You nodded, encouraging him to continue. “I didn’t know what to do.” His cheeks flamed red as he realised what he’d said and quickly stammered, “I mean I knew what to do I just— I didn’t know what she liked, I got used to things with my ex and— oh shut up, Joe.”

You giggled as the guys ribbed him for his faux pas.

“Mate, if we need to have a chat about the birds and the bees just say,” Gwil mocked.

Joe quickly jumped on the bandwagon, “So the vagina is your main target, but you need to know where the clit is too—“

“Guys, give it up,” he groaned, cradling his head in his hands.

You decided to rescue him, “Keep going Ben. You said she was different.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, glaring at the guys, “I couldn’t really read her. She was kinda shy too, so she didn’t tell me what she wanted either.”

He was met with a chorus of sympathetic grumbles, but did not continue. You looked at him expectantly but he stayed silent. “Is that it?”

He looked at you perplexed, “What else do you want me to say?”

You heaved a sigh, “Girls are so much better at this.”

“Okay, what do girls say then?” Joe challenged.

You shrugged, “The usual, you know, if he made you come, if he found your G spot, if he went down on you, how big his dick was—”

Joe spluttered and choked on his drink, “You talk about that?”

Your eyes shifted between them, confused at their reactions.

“I thought size didn’t matter,” Gwil offered.

“Oh no, it matters.” You were met with four expressions of mild horror, so you qualified, “It’s just not the most important thing. The most important thing is how you use what you’ve got. A big dick is a head start.”

“Your turn then,” Rami grinned, “Best sex you ever had.”

“Oh easy, my ex Matteo. I met him during my year in Italy and I swear to god there must be something in the water over there cause the things he could do with his tongue… No one else has made me quiver like he did.” The four of them were clearly taken aback by your openness, as they were staring at you open-mouthed. “He used to fucking worship me,” you said wistfully. So lost in your memories of him, you were oblivious to the way Ben’s grip tightened on his cutlery, knuckles white and jaw clenched fast.

“Am I interrupting?” Josh goaded as he came up behind you. “You guys are needed back on set.”

“Back to work, kiddos,” you said chirpily as you stood and marched off to set.

By the time the evening came around you were all shattered. The day had been gruelling to say the least, with things going wrong all over the place, meaning you were running around frantically and the guys had to do a load of extra takes. You hadn’t finished until the loss of sunlight forced you to stop. The five of you are gathered in Ben’s trailer, Friends on in the background, chatting somewhat lethargically. You were settled down next to Ben, blissfully unaware of your thighs brushing together. It was all he could think about.

“I don’t get why they made Chandler so bad with women. I think he’s hot, especially in the early seasons.”

“Huh, I would have thought you’d be a Joey girl,” Joe mused.

“Is that just because you have the same name?” you sassed in reply.

He chuckled, “You see right through me Y/N/N.”

“What’s your type then?” Gwil asked, not looking up from the bowl of granola he was cradling like it was his child.

“Well the only person I’ve ever been in love with was very classically Italian looking, but he was an anomaly. I guess I tend to go for blondes.” You felt Ben shift beside you, puffing out his chest.

“Is that so?” he smirked, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“Don't even joke Benjamin, your face is so goddamn pretty, it hurts me.”

You focused your attention on the TV, but you could feel his satisfaction radiating from his body. “What if I want to tempt you?”

The rest of the guys were exchanging looks, feeling rather like they were intruding on a private conversation.

“Don’t be cruel, babe. You know that’s not allowed,” you joked sleepily.

“Why not?”

You didn’t hear the seriousness in his tone, or the longing.

“If Josh can’t have me then neither can you.” You shuffled down in the seat, shifting your body so you could nestle into his side. You rested your head on his shoulder and let your eyes get heavy. “Lord knows I could rock your world, but alas, only in my dreams.”

Ben watched you fall asleep on him, drinking in the way your chest rose and fell heavily, and the way your eyes fluttered behind your eyelids; you looked so peaceful. He revelled in the feeling of your warmth against him. Despite all the warnings in his head, he allowed himself to imagine you were his, to picture the look in your eyes as you would wake and meet his own green ones, lids heavy. He would kiss your forehead and you would smile softly, and whisper that he was in your dream. It throbbed painfully in his heart when he reminded himself that it was his own beautiful dream, that you would wake and walk away from him. You shifted in your sleep and pressed your head further into the crook of his neck. It took all his strength not to stroke your cheek, not to kiss you.

“You look cute together,” Rami said. Ben just smiled sadly.

“Come on man,” Joe sighed, “Look at yourself, you’re desperate for her. You have to tell her how you feel.”

Ben shook his head, battling to speak through the tightness in his chest, and whispered, “I can’t. I’m not ready.”

The guys nodded with reluctant understanding, and dropped the subject. One by one they filtered back to their own trailers for a good night’s sleep before what would undoubtedly be another busy day to come. You didn’t wake until they were all gone and Ben shifted, rousing you. You looked around the empty trailer.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said quietly.

“Where is everyone,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“Gone to bed.”

“Fuck Ben, I’m so sorry. You should have woken me, told me to piss off.”

He smiled with the corner of his mouth, “I couldn’t bear to, you looked so tired.”

“Busy day,” you nodded. He mirrored your action. He seemed so lost in thought, and he smiled to himself, that way that you smile when you think about someone you love.

“Tell me about her,” you said abruptly.

“Who?”

“This woman, this person you have feelings for. What makes her so special?”

“Why are you asking?” he queried.

“I’m curious. Indulge me.” A blush crept onto his cheeks and his gaze fell into his lap, suddenly enthralled with the hem of his jumper. He shrugged.

“Oh come on, we’re friends right? You can talk to me. I promise I won’t make fun of you.”

He met your eyes and you saw trepidation, but behind that it was clear how much he wanted to tell you, to let everything out that he had been holding inside.

“How did you meet her?” you prompted gently.

“Work,” he replied monosyllabically. This wasn’t going to be easy but you sensed that he needed to get things off his chest, to be allowed to talk about himself for a while, and release the things that were heavy in his mind out into the world. This girl was one of them.

“What’s her name?”

He hesitated, then said tentatively, “I’m not ready to tell you that yet.”

That seemed a little strange to you, and suggested that you knew her, or at least knew of her. But, not wanting to pry, you brushed aside any instinctive overthinking. You decided to go for a more abstract approach, and ventured, “What’s your favourite thing about her?”

Without missing a beat he replied, “How much she cares. She notices things, and remembers. She catches the words that go unsaid, and she makes sure you know that you’re seen and heard. She lets you know that she’s there, she takes the time to care.”

A sweet smile danced behind his eyes and tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was obvious that he was smitten. Just the thought of this girl made him happy, and a pang of longing throbbed in your chest as you wished someone would think of you that way.

You were perfectly happy being single; you found fulfilment through friends and work, and were very capable of satisfying your personal needs (or finding someone else to do it for you). However, it had been a while since anyone had thought of you that way, or looked at you with the all the affection swirling in Ben’s eyes. It would be nice to be cherished by someone other than yourself.

“She's passionate too. When something is important to her she cares so deeply. It’s the way she pipes up in conversation, you know?” he gave a small chuckle, “like she just can’t let it slide. Like she can’t contain everything she feels.”

It warmed you to see him smile like that, like the whole world glowed when he was around her.

“She sounds pretty amazing.”

When his eyes met yours there was a gold in their green. His lips hung open, plump with desire, and is tongue probed his bottom lip hesitantly. His self-assured demeanour had been stripped back to reveal a tender vulnerability, and all the hunger for him that you had been telling yourself wasn’t there flared in the pit of your stomach, angry and inescapable. You sucked in a breath. Jealously simmered like hot acid in your stomach, acrid and vitriolic; it left an ugly taste in your mouth.

It was absolutely not allowed. He was a coworker; the majority of your day was spent getting him coffee. Sleeping with him would very much be looked down upon, and should anything more happen and the situation go south, you would be branded in the industry. It could cost you your career, which was a risk you were not willing to take. You had worked far too hard to get to where you were now, both in your work and in yourself, to risk it for a guy.

But the thought of those green eyes raking over your naked body, those plump lips leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck and collar bones, instead of licking his lips, licking your…

You barely realised you were panting, and took a deep, steadying breath.

Enough, Y/N, he’s off limits.

You stood, turning to the door. “I should get to bed, I’m knackered. Obviously,” you tried to titter casually. He replied with a subdued smile.

“Sure, 'night.”

“Goodnight Ben.”

The second you got outside you took a deep breath of the night air, relishing the feel of it running down your throat like liquid silver. You let it soothe you, and made for your own trailer. You would decide what to do in the morning.

tags:

@anikatcmh @queen-turtle-boiii @orchideax @rogerspoison @my5secondsofneverland @mrsmazzello @ixchel-9275 @radiob-l-a-hblah @devin-marie

[headoverhiddles]

Business Hours - Matt Graver (Josh Brolin, Sicario) x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You can't stand your fellow team member. The feeling is not mutual.

Notes: Hey everyone, here is the long awaited Sicario fic I promised! Don't worry, there will be another one coming, I'm going to see the sequel tonight, so expect another fic posted tomorrow (ft some Benicio 👀😍). Thank you all for continuing to read my stuff! Means a lot. 💜

Matt Graver.

Even thinking the name makes you want to punch something. Preferably the man himself, but the entitled asswad was nowhere near you right now; probably asleep, as you should be. You had been out drinking last night to forget the shit you saw crossing the border. You were somewhat used to it. Make no mistake, it was a good call to volunteer you instead of your sister, Kate-- you're ex military, turned DEA, and a little more used to blurring the code of conduct under heat than she is. This being said, it was a little tough to see dismembered bodies strung up from every bridge, when all you're used to seeing is packs of cocaine. You think back to your preliminary debrief.

"So. DEA, huh?" Matt nodded, tossing your file down. "DOD myself. We go together like that..." he links his two pinky fingers together, and flashes you a smile. You look away from him."

Hitting the button on the kettle, you hoist yourself up on the counter, rolling your neck.

After that exchange at the debriefing, he had found you again, donning a pair of slacks and some lovely green crocs.

"Ready for some action tomorrow?" he grinned, and you hesitated.

"Tomorrow?"

"Oh, did no one tell you?" he asked boredly, popping in some gum, "We're moving out tomorrow instead of next Tuesday, so pack your stuff."

"Thanks," you grit out, and he comes up to you, staring you straight in the eye. He's only inches away at this point, and you clench your jaw. He just gives you that smug smile.

"No problem." He looks you up and down. "If you need a little help packing up, call me."

"Like I'm going to let you go through my panty drawer, asshole," you shoot back.

"Man, you're crushing my dreams here, (y/l/n)!"

You were rarely ruffled, but his blatant disregard for convention disarmed you. Reminded you a little of... well, you. You swirl the tea bag around in your mug.

"You married?"

You shake your head. "Never had the chance."

"Well yeah, would've been surprised if you said yes. How old're you, anyway?"

"27."

He grins. "Yep. Young and sweet."

You snort. "Everyone who's called me innocent in the past has learned quickly."

"I don't doubt it," he nods, "Chill out. I don't intend to make that mistake."

A knock at your door wakes you from your thoughts. You walk over, and peer through the eyehole to see the man himself, Matt Graver, standing in your doorway with his usual button up, slacks, and flip flops.

"What?" you crack the door open in exasperation.

"Morning, sunshine," he says, checking his 2AM watch time.

"Graver, I'm not in the mood, I've got the daddy of all fucking hangovers," you mutter, and he hums, coming in and sitting down with that shit eating grin.

"Say that again."

You frown, and lock the door. "What?"

"Daddy," he smirks, and you flip him off, pouring some chamomile tea.

"Would you like some tea, Matt? Thanks, I'd love some, (y/n)," he feigns, raising his eyebrows at you, and you resist the smile twitching at your lips, turning away so he doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing it.

"This is my last tea bag," you grumble.

"All the better to share with the guest," he says, and you sigh, pouring him a mug and setting it down in front of him with a punctuated thump. Joining him at the table, you shrug.

"So? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Matt leans back, and you try not to let yourself look down at the bulge he's got in those cargo pants. The fucker probably goes commando, which was even worse with someone that... gifted. He tilts his head at your question. "Eh. Thought I'd drop by."

"Uh huh?" you nod, "Business hours are tomorrow. Like I said, I'm not in the mood."

"Okay, alright, shit," he chuckles, "You take no prisoners. Here. Came to give you this." He slides a manilla folder across the table, and you go to open it. He puts a hand over yours. "Wait until I'm gone to read it. Then I can deal with all your annoying questions tomorrow."

"Annoying questions?" you repeat.

"Yeah."

"I wouldn't ask such annoying questions if you didn't give me such an annoying answers," you retort, and look down. His hand is still on top of yours. He notices that you've noticed, and slowly removes it, not without that smirk.

"What did you do before you became DEA?"

"I've always been DEA."

"Nah, I think you're just a private person. C'mon... I'm curious."

You take a deep breath, and give up. "I served in the army."

He sobers up. "Where?"

"Iraq. Like my sister's partner."

"I respect that. I respect you, contrary to what you probably believe."

You scoff, taking a sip of your tea. "I believe you respect very few people, Mr. Graver."

"Keen guess, and you're one of 'em."

You look up at him over your cup, and can't help but believe his honest eyes... and the way he's looking at you--

God, the tension between you two has been killer since you met. It seemed as if even the others had begun to notice. It's just his confidence, his carefree attitude, the ease with which he does his job. You wouldn't call it graceful, but you would call it smart.

"What're you thinking about?" he asks softly.

"You."

He's surprised at the straightforward answer. "Really?"

"I don't know what to make of you. You're a mystery to me, yet you're the least mysterious person on this god damn team. I hate mysteries, Graver."

"I don't think you've seen many guys like me. That's all," he says, "Guys who nail the whole, maximum results, minimum effort deal."

"But I can't figure something out," you mutter, pushing your cup away in frustration. Does he like you, or does he just like to play?

"You're wondering if I was pulling all that flirty stuff outta my ass," he nods, chuckling. You bite your lip at the deep sound, and rub a hand over your eyes. "Well... truth is, no. It wasn't all bullshit." He sits forward. "I think you're a fuckin knock out, and I wanna have you on every surface of this room. There, boom. The truth is out." He puts his hands behind his head. "Like I said. If you need help, I'm always here."

You blink at him, then slide forward to press your lips to his. He warmly reciprocates, putting his large hand behind your head to keep you there, and using the other one to pull you into his lap. You moan into his mouth, and he bounces you, stealing your lips into his mouth with a grunt. You reach down feverishly to unbuckle his pants, and he helps you with yours as well. It's as if both of you are racing the other to see who can get who undressed first, and he ultimately wins, yanking your pants down and off. You take off his shirt, running your hands up his heaving chest, and he does the same for you, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. You gaze down at him, your lips barely ghosting over one another's.

"You're the first guy who's gotten it on the first try."

"What can I say? I've cracked the code," he smirks, and kisses you again, lifting you up so that your legs are wrapped around his middle. You continue to make out with him as he holds you against the wall, using one hand to drop his pants. You cluck your tongue as you look down at his cock, boxer-free.

"I was right."

He gives you a funny look, before reaching down to grab a condom from his pocket. "Do me a favour, open this?" he asks, and holds it up for you to rip with your teeth. "Impressive."

"Why the hell did you bring a condom?" you sigh, wondering why you're even asking.

"I guess you could say my intentions were not pure," he grins, and slides the protection on. You bite your lip, feeling yourself get even wetter at the prospect of taking that. You had only had a few skilled and endowed lovers in your lifetime, and you had a feeling that this was going to put all the others to shame.

"Ready?" he groans in your ear, pumping himself in his fist.

"Yeah," you whisper, and he reaches down to dip two fingers into you, running them through your slick and then parting your folds. He moves his fingers up to your clit, and begins to rub as he finally pushes himself in.

"Ahg--" you fall forward into his chest, your arms looping around his neck tightly, "Ohgod-- Matt..."

"Use your words, honey," he coos gently, starting up a steady, rocking pace. His hips rotate as if he's swinging them, each time thrusting deep inside you. After the sixth thrust, you feel him reach your g-spot, and you gasp.

"There! There, there... oh fuck, Matt, please..."

He gives a self-satisfied smirk. "Enjoying yourself, huh?"

"Fuck... you..." you growl, throwing back your head.

"You're doing a sweet job of that, (y/n)," he laughs, and starts going harder, increasing his thrusting.

"Please... pl... pl... oh..." your clit throbs as he continues to stroke and rub and stimulate it, and while that hand does that and his hips hold you against the wall, he uses the other hand to wrap a hand around your left breast, squeezing and massaging until he moves onto the other one.

"Beautiful," he muses, and you moan again as he continues to take you against the wall. After a moment, he bites his lip, and spins you both around, setting you on your back, on the table. The tea spills a little-- neither of you care. He covers your body with his larger one, thrusting in perfectly, again and again until you feel your orgasm coming.

"Matt... Matt, oh!" You get lost in the headspace. "Fuck me, daddy!"

He groans, eyelids squeezing shut, and now he really starts to fuck you, so hard the table moves. "That's it... what a good girl for daddy... daddy's girl, hm? That's amazing, sweetheart, let daddy fuck you just right..."

"Mmm," you whine, grabbing onto his arms, and he connects your lips one last time as he tugs your hair back, exposing you neck for him to suck.

"Mine..." his voice vibrates through you as he marks you and repeats that against your skin.

"Please... Matt, daddy, daddy please let me..."

"Gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart," he murmurs, switching his quick, rough thrusts to slow, deep pounds as he holds one palm flat on the tabletop. You just about sob at the feeling.

"Please, let me come!"

"Don't let me hold you back," he smirks, pressing a kiss to the corner of your open lips, and you climax hard, feeling your wetness coat him. He keeps fucking you through it, until he's sure you've had your fill. Then, he pumps a few more times inside of you, shuddering and moaning your name. You hold onto him as he comes too, meeting his eyes. He looks debauched, and you're sure you do too.

"Two surfaces," he breathes, falling back into his chair.

"What?" you pant as well as he grabs his shirt and sits back down too.

"I only fucked you on two surfaces," he begins to smile, "That's a couple fewer than I promised." He runs a hand through his hair, wiping away the sweat on his forehead.

"You keeping score?" you smile a little.

"I am now," he says, and shakes his head. "I thought you were gonna punch me when I confessed."

"That was my first instinct," you tell him.

"Well. Me and my penis are sure glad you went with your first." You get up and shove him, and he sets off laughing. "Fuck," he exhales, looking at the time, "I'll see you tomorrow at base."

"Uh huh," you simply mutter back.

"And tomorrow night."

"Debateable," you huff.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow night," he says, and takes one last sip of his drink, licking his lips. "Damn good tea. You gonna have some more of that? You know, tomorrow night? When I see you again?"

"Sleep tight Graver," you roll your eyes, ushering him out the door. With a playful little wave, he's gone, and you're left to contemplate your job, your love life, your sex life, and whether or not you actually want to contemplate those things.

Fuck it. Matt's sexy, in every sense of the word. You could die any day, any hour right now. This is definitely what you need-- and he knows it.

------

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[weekendwarriorblog]

The Weekend Warrior Home Edition 7/31/20 – THE SHADOW OF VIOLENCE, SUMMERLAND, THE SECRET: DARE TO DREAM, SHE DIES TOMORROW and More!

As I started to gather what’s left of my wits for this week’s column, there seemed to be fewer movies than usual, and I was quite thankful for that. Then, a few of the movies scheduled for some sort of theatrical release this weekend were delayed and I discovered a bunch of movies I didn’t have in my release calendar to begin with, so this is a little bit of an odd weekend but still one with 8 movies reviews! I went into most of the movies this weekend without much knowledge of what they were about, probably was the best way to go into many of them, since it allowed me to be somewhat open-minded about what I was watching.

The first surprise of the week is that we’re getting another decent film from the one and only Saban Films, so maybe the VOD distributor has been using the pandemic to step up its game as well.  Directed by first-time feature director Nick Rowland, the Irish crime-drama THE SHADOW OF VIOLENCE (Saban Films), based on the book “Calm with Horses,” stars relative newcomer Cosmo Jarvis as Douglas Armstrong, known as “Arm,” the enforcer for the drug-dealing Devers family. Douglas also has a young toddler with local woman Ursula (Niamh Algar), but when his handler Dympna (Barry Keoghan) orders Arm to kill for the first time, he’s forced to rethink his career.

Much of the story revolves a member of the Devers family caught making a lurid pass at Dympha’s 16-year-old sister, leading to consequences, as Arm is sent to beat the crap out of him. For head of the family, that isn’t nearly enough and soon, Arm is ordered to kill the man. (This aspect of the story reminds me a little of Todd Field’s Little Children, particularly the Jackie Earle Haley subplot.)

As I mentioned above, I watched this film with zero expectations and was taken quite aback by how great it was, despite not having been that big a fan of Keoghan from some of his past work. On the other hand, Cosmo Jarvis, in his first major role, is absolutely outstanding, giving a performance on par with something we might see from Thomas Hardy or Matthias Schoenaerts, at least in their earlier work. Barely saying a word, Jarvis instills so many emotions into “Arm” as we see him playing with his young autistic son, Jack, trying to keep his jealousy over Ursula under control, while also being there when Dympna needs him.  Even as you think you’re watching fairly innocuous day-to-day stuff, Rowland ratchets up the tension to an amazing degree right up until a climactic moment that drives the last act.

Despite the film’s title, The Shadow of Violence isn’t just about violence, as much as it is about a man trying to figure out how to change the trajectory of his life. If you like character-based films like The Rider, this movie is definitely going to be for you. Another surprise is that the movie will be available only in theaters this Friday, rather than the typical VOD approach Saban Films generally takes, so check your local theater if it’s playing near you.

The faith-based drama THE SECRET: DARE TO DREAM (Lionsgate), starring Katie Holmes and Josh Lucas, is directed by Andy Tennant (Hitch, Sweet Home Alabama) and adapted from Rhonda Byrne’s self-help book, The Secret (which is based on a 2006 movie also called The Secret). Originally planned for a theatrical release, it’s now being released as PVOD, which seems to be the way that so many movies are going now. In it, Holmes plays Miranda Wells, a struggling widow living in New Orleans with three kids who on a stormy night meets a kind stranger (Lucas) who tries to pass on his philosophy of using positive thinking to get whatever you want in life.  

Mini-Review: I don’t usually buy into some of the faith-based movies that are released every year, but that’s mainly because I rarely get a chance to see any of them, so why bother?  I was ready to go into The Secret: Dare to Dream with a healthy amount of skepticism, because it seemed to be another movie about grand miracles… but in fact, it’s just a bland movie pimping Rhonda Byrne’s New Thought technique from her New Age-y self help book.

The idea is that positive thinking is all that it takes to get anything you want, something no less than Oprah quickly glommed onto.  While the movie doesn’t hit you over the head with such a message, and “God” is only mentioned once, it also just doesn’t seem to offer much in terms of storytelling to maintain one’s interest.

Katie Holmes does a fine job playing an amiable single mother who meets Josh Lucas’ Bray Johnson as a huge storm is about to hit New Orleans, and he seems like a nice enough fellow as he helps her replace a broken bumper (after she rear-ended him, no less) and then fixing up the house after the storm. But Bray has a secret (hence the title) and it’s in an important envelope that he hesitates to give to Miranda.

The film’s biggest problem is that there never is much in terms of stake when it comes to the drama, because Bray seems to be there to fix everything and make everything better. Miranda’s only other real relation is an awkward one with Jerry O’Connell’s long-time (presumably platonic) friend Tucker, which only gets more awkward when he surprises her by popping the question. She says “Yes” without talking to her own kids first.  The whole time while watching the film, I was expecting some sort of big Nicholas Spark level romance between Miranda and Bray, so when Tucker proposes, it throws a real spanner in the works, but only for a little while.

Incidentally, the “secret” of the title that Bray resists telling Miranda until pressured isn’t particularly groundbreaking either. I won’t ruin it. You’ll just be annoyed when it’s finally revealed.

The Secret: Dare to Dream is as generic and bland a tale you can possibly get, one that really doesn’t accomplish very much and feels more like a Lifetime movie than something particularly revelatory.

Rating: 6/10

Jessica Swale’s WW2-set SUMMERLAND (IFC Films) stars Gemma Arterton as fantasy author Alice Lamb, quietly living on the South of England in a small beachside town when she’s presented with a young London evacuee named Frank (Lucas Bond) for her to mind while his father’s at war.  Alice lives alone but many years earlier, she had a friendship with a local woman named Vera (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) that turned into something more, despite the taboo of their relationship during those times.

This was another nice surprise, and as I watched the movie, it was hard not to compare it to last week’s Radioactive, since they’re movies intended to appeal to a similar audience. This one seems to be more focused, and Arterton does a better job being likeable despite being as persnickety as Pike’s Marie Currie. Although this isn’t a biopic, it did remind me of films like Goodbye Christopher Robin and Tolkien, and possibly even Finding Neverland. (Incidentally, the Summerland of the title is a mythical place that Alice is writing about, which adds to the fairy tale angle to the film.)

As the film goes along, there’s a pretty major twist, of sorts, and it’s when the stakes in the film start to feel more dramatic as things continue to elevate into the third act. The movie actually opens in 1975 with Penelope Wilton playing the older Alice, although I’m not sure the framing sequence was particularly needed for the film to work the way Swale intended.

Summerland is generally just a nice and pleasant film that stirs the emotions and shows Swale to be a filmmaker on the rise.

Another really nice indie film that might involve a bit more searching is director Sergio Navaretta’s THE CUBAN (Brainstorm Media), written by Alessandra Piccione. It follows 19-year-old Mina (played by Ana Golja), a Canadian pre-med student who lives with her aunt, Bano (Shohreh Aghdashloo), who pushes her career in medicine, although Mina would rather be a singer. At her part-time job at a long-term care facility, Mina meets Luis (Louis Gossett Jr.), a quiet elderly patient who sits in his wheelchair never talking to anyone until Mina discovers his love for music, and the two bond over that, although Mina’s employers don’t think she’s helping Luis despite his obvious change in nature.

This was just a lovely film driven by Golja, who is just wonderful in the lead role with an equally terrific cast around her, and while it gets a little obvious, I can’t imagine anyone not enjoying this film that harks back to some of the great earlier work by Thomas McCarthy, as it follows a touching story that mixes a number of cultures in a surprisingly fluid way. It turned out to be quite a pleasant and unexpected film in the way it deals with subjects like dementia in such a unique and compelling away, especially if you enjoy Cuban music.

The Cuban already played at a couple Canadian theaters, but it will be available via Virtual Cinema and in some American theaters Friday, and you can find out where at the Official Site.

I was pretty excited to see Amy Seimetz’s new film, SHE DIES TOMORROW (NEON), since I was quite a fan of her previous film, Sun Don’t Shine. Besides having played quite a fantastic role in recent independent cinema through her varied associations, Seimetz also cast Kate Lyn Sheil, a fantastic actress, in the main role. It’s a little hard to explain the film’s plot, but essentially Sheil plays Amy, a woman convinced she’s going to die tomorrow, a feeling that starts spreading to others around her. I’m not sure if you would get this just from watching the film, because it’s pretty vague and even a little confusing about what is happening despite the high concept premise.

For the first 15 minutes or so, the camera spends the entire time watching Sheil as she cries and hugs a wall, while listening to the same opera record over and over. When her friend Jane (Jane Adams) comes over to check on her, she finds her vacuuming in a fancy dress. Amy tells her friend that she’s going to die tomorrow, and she wants to be turned into a leather jacket. Soon, after we’re watching Jane, a scientist, going down the same wormhole as Amy. That’s pretty much the running narrative, although the film opens up when we meet some of Jane’s family and friends, including Katie Aselton, Chris Messina, Tunde Adebimpe, Michelle Rodriguez and more. Soon after we meet them, they TOO are convinced that they’re going to die tomorrow. Incidentally (and spoiler!), no one actually dies in the movie. Heck, I’d hesitate even to call this a “horror” movie because it takes the idea of a pandemic that we’ve seen in movies like Bird Box, Contagion and others and sucks all the genre right out of it, but it still works as a character piece.

The thing is that the film looks great and also feels quite unique, which does make She Dies Tomorrow quite compelling, as well as a great vehicle for both Sheil and Seimetz. Even so, it’s also very much a downer and maybe not the best thing to watch if you aren’t in a good place, emotionally. You’ve been warned. It will open at select drive-ins this weekend, but it will then be available via VOD next Friday, August 7.

Next up, we have two fantastic and inspiring docs that premiered at Sundance earlier this year…

In recent years, Ron Howard has made a pretty amazing transition into respectable documentary filmmaker, and that continues with REBUILDING PARADISE (National Geographic), which takes a look at the horrible fires that struck Northern California in November 2018, literally wiping out the town of Paradise and leaving over 50,000 people homeless and killing roughly 85 people.

It’s really horrifying to see the amount of destruction caused when a spark from a faulty transmission line ignites the particularly dry forest surrounding the town of Paradise, destroying the hospital and elementary school and displacing the homeowners. This is obviously going to be a tough film to watch, not only seeing the fires actually raze the town to the ground but also watching these not particularly wealthy people having to contend with losing their homes. (It’s even tougher to watch now since you wonder how COVID may have affected the town as it’s in better shape now then it was last year.)

Using a cinema verité approach (for the first time possible?), Howard finds a small group of people to follow, including the town’s former mayor, the school superintendent, a local police officer, and others.  It’s pretty impressive how much time this doc covers, and often, you may wonder if Ron Howard was there at all times, because it seems like he would have to have been embedded with the townspeople for an entire year to get some of the footage.

As I said, this is not an easy film to watch, especially as you watch these people dealing with so much tragedy – if you’ve seen any of the docs about Sandy Hook, you might have some idea how hard this movie may be to watch for you. But it is great, since it shows Howard achieving a new level as a documentary filmmaker with a particularly powerful piece.  

Produced by Kerry Washington, THE FIGHT (Magnolia Pictures) is the latest doc from Weiner directors Elyse Steinberg, Josh Kriegman, this time joined as director by that film’s editor, Eli B. Despres. The “fight” of the title is the one between the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) and the Trump administration that began shortly after his inauguration in 2017, his Muslim travel ban that quickly followed, and going up until mid-2019 when a lot of obvious civil rights violations were being perpetrated by the U.S. government.

This is a particularly interesting doc if you weren’t aware of how active the ACLU has been in helping to protect people’s rights on a variety of fronts. The doc covers four particular cases involving immigration, LGBTQ rights, voting rights and reproductive rights, and we watch the lawyers involved in four important cases, including a few that are taken right up to the Supreme Court. In following these four particular lawyers, the filmmakers do a great job helping the viewer understand how important the ACLU is in keeping the conservative right at bay from trying to repeal some previous laws made to protect Americans’ rights. 

Of course, this film is particularly timely since it covers a lot of dramatic changes, including the nomination of Justice Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court, which ends up being ironic, since he was the judge presiding over an earlier ACLU case involving a pregnant teen immigrant who isn’t allowed to get an abortion. The movie doesn’t skirt the fact that often the ACLU is called upon to help the likes of white supremacists and potential terrorist factions, since they’re about protecting everyone’s rights. I would have loved to hear more about this, but it does cover the backlash to the ACLU after the Charlottesville protests went horribly wrong in 2017.

Be warned that there are moments in this film where the waterworks will start flowing since seeing the ACLU succeed against oppression is particularly moving. If you’ve been following the country’s shifting politics keenly and want to learn more about the ACLU, The Fight does a great job getting behind closed doors and humanizing the organization.

The Fight will be available on all digital and On Demand platforms starting Friday, and you can find out how to rent it at the Official Site.

Vinnie Jones (remember him?) stars in Scott Wiper’s crime-thriller THE BIG UGLY (Vertical) about a pair of British mobsters who travel to West Virginia to make an oil deal in order to launder money. Once there, they encounter some troubles with the locals, particularly the sadistic son of Ron Perlman’s Preston, the man with whom they’re dealing.

Sometimes, as a film critic, you wonder how a movie that has so much potential can turn into such an unmitigated disaster, but then you watch a movie like The Big Ugly, and you realize that some bad filmmakers are better at talking people into doing things than others.

That seems to be the case with this film in which Jones plays Leland, who comes to West Virginia with his boss Harris (McDowell) to make an oil deal with Ron Perlman’s Preston, only for the latter’s son “PJ” (Brandon Sklenar) causing trouble, including the potential murder of Leland’s girlfriend. Of course, one would expect to see tough guy Vinnie Jones out for revenge against the endless parade of sleaze-balls he encounters, and that may have been a better movie than what Wiper ended up making, which is all over the place in terms of tone. (It was only after I watched the film did I realize that Wiper wrote and directed the absolutely awful WWE Film, The Condemned, also starring Jones. If I only knew.)  

Jones isn’t even the worst part of the cast, in terms of the acting, because both McDowell and Perlman, two great actors, struggle through the terrible material, though Perlman generally fares better than McDowell, who doesn’t seem to be giving it his all.

There’s a whole subplot involving one of PJ’s friends/co-workers (recent Emmy nominee Nicholas Braun from  HBO’s Succession) and his relationship with a pretty local (Lenora Crichlow) that goes nowhere and adds nothing to the overall story. Once PJ is seemingly dealt with, there’s still almost 35 minutes more of movie, including a long monologue by Perlman telling a sorely wasted Bruce McGill how he met McDowell’s character. Not only does it kill any and all momentum leading up to that point, but it’s probably something that should have been part of the set-up earlier in the film.

The fact this movie is so bad is pretty much Wiper’s fault, becuase he wrote a script made up of so many ideas that never really fit together – kind of like Guy Ritchie doing a very bad Deliverance remake before deciding to turn it into a straight-up Western. Wiper then tries his hardest to salvage the movie by throwing in violence and explosions and leaning heavily on the soundtrack. (The fact that both this and the far superior The Shadow of Violence used a song from the Jam was not lost on this music enthusiast.) Regardless, The Big Ugly is a pretty detestable piece of trash that couldn’t end fast enough… and it didn’t. (It played in drive-ins and select theaters last Friday but will be available on digital and  On Demand this Friday.)

Available through Virtual Cinemas (supporting Film Forum and the Laemmle in L.A) is Martha Kehoe and Joan Tosoni’s documentary, Gordon Lightfoot: If You Could Read My Mind, about the Canadian singer-songwriter who changed people’s impressions of Canadian culture, covering Lightfoots’s greatest triumphs and failures.

Film at Lincoln Center’s Virtual Cinema will premiere Koji Fukada’s Japanese drama A Girl Missing (Film Movement) on Friday, while New York’s Metrograph Live Screening series continues this week with Manfred Kirchheimer’s Bridge High & Stations of the Elevated starting today through Friday, and then the premiere of Nan Goldin’s Sirens (with two other shorts) starting on Friday. You can subscribe to the series for $5 a month or $50 a year.

Premiering on Disney+ this Friday is Beyoncé’s Black is King, her new visual album inspired by the lessons from The Lion King, as well as the new original Muppets series, Muppets Now. Since I haven’t seen either Lion King movie, I’m definitely looking forward more to the Muppets returning to "television.”

Launching on Netflix today is Matias Mariani’s Shine Your Eyes about a Nigerian musician who travels to Sao Paulo to look for his estranged brother and bring him back to Nigeria, as well as Sue Kim’s doc short, The Speed Cubers, set in the world of competitive Rubik cube solving and the friendly rivalry between two young “speedcubers.” Also, Season 2 of The Umbrella Academy will premiere on Netflix this Friday.

Premiering on Shudder tomorrow (Thursday, July 30) is Rob Savage’s Host, the first horror movie made during the quarantine about a group of six friends who decide to hold a séance over Zoom.

Amazon’s drive-in series continues tonight with “Movies to Inspire Your Inner Child,” playing Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and Hook.

Next week, more movies not in theaters!

By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest!

[maynardtrash]

Of All People~Josh Pieters

A/N: wowza it hasn’t been a month and i’m posting again go me. i’ve seen josh has been highkey unrepped in imagines and i feel like he’d fit this prompt so ye here u go all u filthy josh pieters’ stans. btw this is kinda AU bc i have no idea if grant went to school w caspar and josh pls dont abuse my inbox w aggressive facts k thank u.

     For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been popular with my peers. Maybe because, for the most part, the popular people aren’t the ruthless satanists you see on TV. 99.9% of us are decent people. I’d like to think I’m a good person, at least. That being said, there are a certain few I’d have to associate with that represented our group poorly. They were all football players and they thought they were somewhat of demigods. There was always one specific group they would target as well. Those they considered beneath them. The theater kids.

     There were three specific people they would target: Caspar, Grant, and Josh. I felt so bad for them. They didn’t deserve the abuse in the slightest. They were such sweet, caring, witty guys, especially Josh. Watching Josh get made fun of was especially hard for me to see since I’ve always had a little crush on him. I never really noticed him until our drama class, but when I saw him, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. He was so passionate about acting and the art of theater. I got lost in his debates and rants while trying to defend his critiques and praises of certain pieces. He got so heated, and so did I. I had to admit, when he was in his element, he was pretty damn hot.

     I walked into drama to the usual scene: everyone in their individual groups mingling, then Jacobi and Martin, two of the football players, torturing Josh and Caspar. For some reason, I was not having it today. Maybe I had finally gotten sick of it, but I decided enough was enough. “Jacobi. Martin. Why don’t you just leave them alone?” I asked, exasperated.

     “Because it’s none of your fucking business, (Y/N),” Martin snapped back at me.

     “Yeah, since when are you gonna defend a bunch of losers?” Jacobi chimed in, his tone suggested he was hurt.

     “Since I realized they’ve done nothing to deserve your abuse!” I spat. Before the two idiots could finish their argument, our drama teacher came in and we took a seat. I decided to sit with Josh and Caspar. “Are you guys good?” I asked.

     “Yeah, we’re good,” Caspar responded. Josh did nothing but stare blankly. “Thank you for that.”

     “Of course,” I assured him. “You guys are way better than them anyway.”

     “Oh, trust me,” Caspar said. “We’re aware. They’re just insecure or whatever.” I laughed at his response and nodded. “They don’t even know the half of it,” I thought to myself. “Where’s Grant?” I asked. He would have come in by now, but he was nowhere to be found. “He stayed home for the day,” Caspar said. “He’s taking a personal day for video games and pizza. Lucky bastard.” I giggled at his response. Caspar and I talked for a bit while Josh just sat there. We were eventually hushed by our teacher.

     There was about a half hour left of the class when the teacher hit us with a curve ball. “Okay, class!” she announced while we read through West Side Story. “I have an assignment for you all. I understand the weekend is upon us, so I’ll be giving you a gift!” The class clapped and buzzed with excitement. “You will be doing a summary and synopsis of West Side Story with a partner that I am assigning to drive you out of your comfort zone!” she announced. The class groaned in harmony. There’s nothing worse than having to work with someone you barely talk to over your weekend when you could be doing literally anything else.

     She posted the list on the board right before the bell rang. We all shuffled over to see who we were stuck with. Once I saw who I was paired with, my heart fluttered. “(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)-----Josh Pieters”. I was with Josh. I had to contain my emotions, but I was more than excited. I finally had an excuse to talk to him. He was beginning to pack up when I approached him. “Hey, partner!” I said excitedly. He looked up from shoving his books in his bag and stared blankly again. “Oh,” he deadpanned. “Cool.” I shifted my weight, feeling disappointment set in. “He could be a little more excited,” I thought to myself. “How about we meet at my house later? I wanna get this out of the way so we can at least try to enjoy the weekend, you know?” He only nodded, then began to walk away. “Wait!” I yelled after him. He turned with the same blank expression on his face. “Gimme your phone.”

     “Why?” he asked cautiously.

     “So I can give you my number and address?”

     “Oh, yeah.” I typed my number in his phone then texted my address to myself so I could save his number. “Come by at five, okay?” I told him.

     “Yeah, okay,” he responded without a hint of emotion in his voice.

     Five o’ clock had rolled around, and there was no sign of Josh. I was about to be extremely upset, but, two minutes later, there was a knock at my door. I swung the door open to the tall ginger I’d been waiting for for so long. He gave an awkward smile and wave. “I’m here,” he said, a little more life in his voice.

     “Perfect!” I responded. “Just drop your bag in there.” I led him to the living room and plopped down on the couch. “C’mere,” I said, patting the seat right next to me. “I don’t bite, I promise.” He placed his bag in front of the cushion next to mine and sat down. His posture was rigid and he looked extremely stiff. “You can sit back,” I informed him. “I mean, we’ll be here for a bit.” He only nodded and slid back. “So,” he finally spoke up. “Where are your parents?”

     “On a business trip,” I told him and he nodded in response.

     “So you have the whole place to yourself?” he asked.

     “Yep! It’s pretty nice. I get to do whatever, whenever. I have it to myself for another week if you’d like to come back over.”

     “You know, I don’t need your pity!” he snapped. I was taken aback. I did nothing to deserve the tone he had, and I was fed up. “Now, listen here!” I snapped back. “I don’t pity you! I think you’re a very interesting and dynamic person that I’d like to get to know! I’m not trying to treat you like a charity case, I just think you’re cute, okay!?” I realized what I said once it left my mouth and I went bright red. We sat in silence for a bit when Josh broke it and asked, “You... You really think I-I’m cute? Like, not in a baby way?”

     “No, not in a baby way,” I responded with a giggle. “Like ‘someone I’d be interested in dating’ cute.” That’s when it happened. Josh grabbed my face and kissed me. His lips felt as soft as velvet. Everything happened so quickly. Before I knew it, I was straddling him and both our tops were gone. Our make out session was getting heated by the second, then Josh pulled away. I was upset to say the least. “I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered. I was awaiting rejection. “It’s just... you have no idea how often I’ve dreamed of this happening,” he said. “I never thought in a million years this would happen.”

     “I feel the same way,” I added breathlessly. His face broke out into a goofy smile and we continued to kiss passionately. I then stopped the fun to lead him to my room. We walked in and he immediately closed the door and pinned me to it. He kissed my jawline and neck sloppily, bounding my wrists together with his one giant hand, the other hand exploring my curves. I whimpered under his touch. “It’s always the quiet ones,” I thought. 

     “Have you done this before?” I asked him. He chuckled darkly. “Jacobi and Martin may think I’m a gay virgin, but they’ve never been more wrong,” he answered. With that, his free hand went to my soaking panties. “Excited, are we?” he asked excitedly.

     “Yes,” I responded breathlessly. He began to rub vigorously and I screamed in response. “That’s right,” he encouraged me. “Scream for me, babe.” I felt like I was about to burst from an orgasm when he stopped. I groaned in frustration and he smiled. “If you’re gonna cum, it’s gonna be on my cock,” he growled. He then threw me on my bed and I giggled in delight. This was the best time I’ve ever had with a guy, and it was with nerdy, quiet Josh. I couldn’t have been happier. 

     He leaned his thighs on the edge of the bed and before my open legs. He dropped his pants and boxer briefs at the same time and held his hard cock in his hand. He slowly stroked his erection to the sight of me, and I couldn’t help but touch myself in response. “Fuck, (Y/N),” Josh groaned. “You’re so fucking hot. Who got you this fucking wet, huh?”

     “You did,” I whimpered in response.

     “Louder!” he yelled as he stroked himself vigorously.

     “YOU DID, JOSH!” I shrieked. He then stopped jerking himself off and climbed on the bed. He grabbed a condom from his pants on the floor and rolled it on. He sat down and pat his leg. “Sit on my lap, baby,” he commanded. I wasted no time and climbed on top of him. He lined himself up to my dripping pussy and rammed himself into me. We were in sync within seconds, pounding up and down at the same time. We groaned, moaned, and screamed as we pleasured each other. I came within what felt like seconds, and Josh followed shortly behind. 

     After we calmed down, I began to lay down as I thought it was over. Josh had other plans. “Lay on your stomach,” he told me. I followed his directions and lay on my stomach. “Now get on your knees so your ass is up in the air.” Once again, I did as I was told. I couldn’t see much as my face was somewhat in a pillow, but that’s when I felt him enter me again. I responded with a drawn out moan as he pounded me from behind. I felt all new sensations and did nothing but moan nonstop. We both came quickly from the position and because of how sensitive we were from our first round.

     He then collapsed next to me and brought me into his chest. “So,” he said, his o slightly drawn out. “Does this mean... like... are we a thing now?”

     “Do you want to be?” I asked in return.

     “I think you know my answer.”

     “Then yes.”

     “But what are people gonna say?” He had a point. I could hear it now. “Josh Pieters? Really? Of all people?” But I didn’t care. As long as I had him, nothing mattered.

[kermitthefrogfanclub]

I tried my very best

Hi. It’s Josh. Josh Hatfield. I think about you a lot and I always feel like texting you all these crazy things in my head but I figured it would be better to condense all the crazy stuff into something more coherent that will hopefully let you know how I feel. I love you and I know you love me too and I never was very good at saying how I felt or what was on my mind but I’m going to try to do a better job right now. When we were in 8th grade and you curved me I thought the entire world was going to end. I was so crazy about you I thought I’d never get over it. But, life moved on. We both went our separate ways and I spent the next six years of my life walking an incredibly complicated and rough path all the way back to you. Nothing in my life has been so much fun as getting to know you all over again. Nothing has ever been so fulfilling as falling back in love with the girl I loved when I was 12 years old. I know that if we go our separate ways, we will both be fine. Slowly time will heal any pain or anxiety we have about breaking up and who knows maybe if that happens we will find our way back to each other again. But I can’t let you go without telling you that it’s not that I don’t think we can’t both be happy without each other, it’s that the happiness I have with you is just so much better than any other. Even if we find our way back together we will miss out on so much love and so many good memories. I don’t want to get to know you all over again in 5 years, I want to keep learning about you now. I already know you better than I’ve ever known anyone in my life and you know me the same and no one in my life makes an every day moment an incredible memory like you do. I think so much about just riding the moped to class together and you squeezing me tight while we both just act ridiculous because we know we look it. Or laying in bed watching HIMYM after a shitty day at work for one of us and falling asleep next to you. Those things are so little but so incredibly meaningful to me and I didn’t appreciate them nearly as much as I should’ve. I used to think that I was Ted Mosby. Cool, charming, kinda nerdy. But I don’t think I am anymore because if I’m ted that means you’re Robin and I can’t live in a world where you’re Robin. I decided that this whole time we were really Marshall and Lily. I’m always singing around the house, you’re incredibly creative and sweet. We are super lame and cute and laugh together more than anything. Thats totally us. They even broke up and it was the saddest ever but they figured it out and I think we can figure it out because that’s what people who love each other do and I love you so so so so so so so so so so so so so.... so so so so fucking much. From my toes to my curly head of hair I love you with every bone in my body. I know that we both are living insanely busy lives and on paper it might not seem like there’s any extra time in the day to even eat let alone date someone but I think we just got to a point where it felt like we got on each other’s nerves and it stopped being a healthy relationship and started being somewhat stressful. But I think a lot of that just came from bad communication and I know that we are so much better than that. A good relationship between us would fit perfectly in because neither of us are particularly needy I just want to be there when you need me and care for you endlessly. We have both always been busy and we probably will be for a long time but Morgan I want you to call me for two minutes to tell me about the annoying fuck in your class while you drive to work. I want to text you while I’m eating lunch and tell you all the things that happen in my day that make me think about you and how much better it would be if I really could live in your pocket like you always wanted. I want to sit in a room with you while you study for the bar exam and just appreciate how adorable your frustrated face is when you get all flustered. I want to come home from the worst day ever where I worked 7-5 and had class 6-9 and crash into my bed and realize that life really is so incredible no matter what is happening because I am going to marry the girl of my dreams some day and make curly haired kids who will be so so so fucking weird probably but they’ll be weird like us and we can be amazing parents because we learned from ours and that’s so much more important to me than whatever dumb work stress I have. I’m not asking you to get back together with me but I am asking you to just go out on a date with me. The last time I saw you was so bitter sweet because we laughed and cuddled like we always do but then it ended sad and I was so angry and that’s just not us. That’s never been us. Hatfield and Pattan have always have a damn good time together because you make me laugh so much and we just feed off each other’s energy like nothing in the world. If what you truly want is me out of your life then I can accept that and I’ll wander down my next path but I think we deserve one more really good night to take with us if that’s the case. We can eat good food, enjoy each other’s company, I’ll be incredibly charming and tell you that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world and it’ll be a really really good memory to hold on to. I even have like the perfect idea for what to eat and you’d love it so much I swear. If you’re still reading this then I know you at least kind of miss me and wouldn’t totally hate a really nice night out with me. So just let me know if it sounds nice to you and I’ll make it happen. But if you skipped to the end or you have just been reading this like “what a big ole pussy” and just want to throw this note away then I’ll at least leave you with one last thing just so I know you know how I feel about you regardless of how you feel about me: Morgan Michelle Pattan, you’re the most caring, selfless, loving, creative, funny (I hate to admit this especially in writing), weird, adorable, awkward, intriguing person I’ve ever met. I never know what I’m going to get with you. Sometimes you drive me absolutely bonkers but there’s no one in the world I’d rather be driven mad by than you. I am absolutely head over heels hopelessly in love with you. No matter what happens in my life or where I end up you’ll always be my one. Thank you for being such a massively positive light in my life for so long. I can’t even begin to explain how much you mean to me and how much you’ve gotten me through even if you didn’t realize it. Love always, Hatfield

[bikingb1tches]

DAY 32

Midway City, CA to San Diego, CA

Hours: 10 hrs

Miles: 95 mi

Elevation gain: 2,490 ft

Elevation loss: 2,451 ft

Clip-in falls: 3

Flat tires: 1

Well, the trip is finished. It’s surreal. It was really hard. It was really amazing. But it’s finished.

I woke up this morning at the Sains’ place, suited up for the day, and packed up my bike one last time. I said my goodbyes to all four of them at around 8:30am and then hopped on my bike for my very last morning. It was a sort of bittersweet moment--I was really excited to get on the road and have my last day because I couldn’t wait to be home, but it also was my last day on the tour; today was my 32nd day on my bike and I can’t imagine being back in San Diego and life just settling into the same old routines again. I’ve been in the saddle pedaling, eating, sleeping, site-seeing, experiencing new places, and pushing for the last month and all of a sudden I will just back in my house, going to work, working out, meeting up with friends, and doing simple things like cleaning my house or feeding Mr. P. It really was a 50/50 split of happy and sad.

It was NOT a 50/50 split of happy and sad to leave RJ, Taryn, Brooklyn, and Moose--it was just sad. While I’ve lived away from California in North Carolina, Indiana, and Chicago, I missed out on about three years of seeing them. Now that I’m back on the west coast, I feel so privileged and motivated to see those from college that I love hanging out with and taking advantage of the fact that we are now only a few hours from each other, rather than a long flight and time off. They were such great hosts and I am so happy I was able to meet Brooklyn when she is so fresh out the womb.

The first quarter of the day contained most of the elevation, which I was happy to get out of the way in the morning. The only other elevation I would have is the big hill coming out of Torrey Pines, which was pretty close to home and I was not looking forward to it. The first half of the day wasn’t too bad in general, though it really started getting warmer in the afternoon.

About 5 miles north of Camp Pendleton, a military base, I stopped in San Onofre State Beach to sit on a picnic table in the shade to eat lunch. The bike route took me straight through the state beach, which was great because there was no traffic and it eventually turned into a bike path; I saw almost no bikes on the path as well.

Unfortunately, you have to have a military ID to go through Camp Pendleton; I thought I read online that you just needed to have an ID of any kind. So I rode up to the entrance and was kindly turned away......which meant that I was going to have to ride on the 5. Riding your bike on the 5 is illegal, except for this 8-mile stretch around Camp Pendleton.

It wasn’t scary riding on the shoulder of the 5, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable; the shoulder is the same size of a lane, so cars weren’t an issue, but I was constantly on-edge as I looked ahead to see if there was any broken glass, shredded tires, nails, etc. It was also extremely loud, as there were about four lanes of traffic on each side, so I was altogether very happy when I finally exited for Oceanside.

Getting to Oceanside felt incredible but also somewhat daunting. I still had about 35 miles to go and I knew this last section would feel a bit torturous--so close yet so far. It’s like when you’re on a road trip and you’re 45 minutes away from your destination--it’s the longest 45 minutes of your life. This felt that way, too, though I was really trying to take myself out of that mindset and enjoy the views and ride. Oceanside to Mission Beach is a really pretty and easy-going ride, and it was the last section of my bike trip, so I did my best to look around, experience how it feels to sit in the saddle, and just be on the bike trip, one last time. I stopped in Oceanside for my last awkward late lunch/early dinner meal because there was no way I could make it the last leg without fueling up. I, of course, ate a sandwich, and then I was on my way.

The anticipation certainly started building as I went through Carlsbad, Leucadia, Cardiff-by-the-Sea, and then arrived at Torrey Pines--I’d completed this entire bike ride from Carlsbad to Torrey Pines before with my roommate, Jenny, so it was both frustrating and exciting to be doing it again. I was dreading arriving at Torrey Pines, however, because I had to complete my last climb of the trip, and it wasn’t going to necessarily be easy.

The Torrey Pines hill is steep but just manageable without needing to stop, but it takes about 15 minutes to ascend. I was definitely running low on energy, both from biking and the heat; it was becoming much like the 90-mile day I did north of San Francisco, where things were starting to feel defeated. If I didn’t have the adrenaline of almost being home and arriving at the welcome party Kate organized, it would have been much harder.

Luckily, as I started the climb, another bike rode up next to me and started asking me about my trip. At first, I was annoyed because it’s very obvious I am huffing and puffing up this hill, and he kept asking me questions, but soon I was 10 minutes up the hill and I hadn’t stopped (mostly because I would feel rude leaving Nathan on the road, who had so kindly taken an interest in the tour). I tried to ask him a lot of question so he would have to talk instead, but soon, we were nearly at the top of the hill! I was very thankful for the support and conversation because ultimately, it distracted me and got me past my last major obstacle!

Soon, I was cruising through La Jolla as quickly as I could (La Jolla felt massive--it seemed that no matter how close I felt I was getting to Pacific Beach and Mission Beach, I was still somehow in La Jolla).

Once I was on the Ocean Walk in southern PB, it started feeling super surreal--here I was, riding down a path that I had run dozens of times, seeing restaurants I had eaten at and streets I recognized. Even though I had been biking towards it all for 32 days, I felt like I was suddenly transported from far away, like I had apparated from somewhere on the California coast to just north of my house.

I started seeing streets I knew were in Mission Beach--San Jose, Nantucket, Santa Barbara--and then I was at the roller coaster a mile from my house. There were tourists everywhere because it was the 4th of July week, and I tried not to run anyone down as I maneuvered as quickly as possible around them. I saw Capistrano, Balboa, and then, finally, my sweet, sweet Avalon Court.

I rode down the sidewalk to my house, looked up at the balcony, and saw the wonderful smiling faces of Kate, Josh, Trey, Andera, Amanda, and Danny. I can’t describe the feeling of seeing my house, seeing friends’ faces and cheering, the big hug from Danny after he ran down the stairs, the relief and surrealness of walking up the steps. I have thought for a while that I might cry when I got home and saw everyone, but I was honestly so overwhelmed and happy that I couldn’t even form sentences. 

It was so good to see friends, but it was something special to see Kate. She had only left me for a week (lol) but it felt like forever, and it was so good to hug her and be reunited. We rode around 1,100 miles together and I wouldn’t even be on the trip if it wasn’t for her--this whole thing was her idea. I literally could not have done it without her; our experiences together are what made the last part of the trip alone possible.

We popped champagne, we drank beer, we snacked, I couldn’t think straight and was so happy--I know I keep saying things were surreal, but they truly were. Home felt like a far away and intangible place for so long and now I was sitting on my front porch with my friends like I was never gone, and suddenly the bike trip felt like a dream instead. Did I really just bike 1,664 miles? Was I really gone for over a month? Did I actually just do a 95-mile day? I was in a happy, dreamy state and couldn’t quite wrap my mind around anything.

I will say that I WAS able to experience how loved and supported I am--everyone was so happy for me and so happy to see me; there is nothing really like feeling like you were missed, that people are proud of you, happy for you, inspired by you, excited for you.

Maybe most importantly, at least for me, is that I was really proud of myself. I don’t toot my own horn really at all, and I generally feel too narcissistic if I like or am proud of something I did. But finishing this bike trip is something that I am purely and humbly am proud of. It’s something I actually feel like I deserve to be proud but I don’t feel self-centered about it. I am ALSO surprised by what I did.

I can’t describe how I feel about doing this bike trip. There were so many times I felt like it was impossible, especially in the beginning. On day two, I very much felt like there was absolutely no way I could do this; I felt so completely defeated and the scale of the trip was so overwhelming. 30 more days of this? 1,500 more miles of this? Hills? Weather? It was one of only a few times in my life where I felt like I was in over my head.

This trip taught me a lot but an important thing it taught me is to take life day-by-day, challenge-by-challenge. It may be a day with a lot of elevation gain and loss; it may be a day where there are a few big climbs to complete; it may be raining; it may be balls hot; I may want a bed when I only have my sleeping bag; I may not have any motivation; I might be so tired that I don’t think I can pedal one more time; I might have a flat tire while I’m alone and cycling my longest day and almost to my destination; I might have run over my water bottle and have no water left; it may be a combination of any one of these situations. But I learned (better) how to just focus on the task at hand, celebrate the small victories, and to push through when I don’t think I can do something. As someone who deals with a lot of anxiety, it’s really easy for me to obsess over how big and impossible something seems and to feel very overwhelmed. It’s really important for me to better learn how to take a deep breath and take something piece by piece rather than crumble under the weight of how big something seems. 

I’ve never been so physically challenged and I’ve certainly never been so challenged by something that requires both physical and mental strength. I was shown in a very tangible way that I am capable of more than I think I am and that I can do things even when it seems impossible or unbearable. It’s made me a lot more appreciative of and inspired by myself; it’s given me the confidence and inspiration to get myself outside of my comfort zone in my normal life, whether that by physically, mentally, artistically, or at work.

It’s such a cliche thing but I’ve really experienced ‘you don’t know until you try.’ I’ve tried to live this way but I’ve been hesitant in so many realms of my life because I don’t want to fail or be embarrassed. This trip has really inspired me to keep trying.

Plus, on top of all that, I am now fit as fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck🦵🏼💪🏼and love cycling🚴🏼‍♀️

This won’t be my last tour💜

[willstilladoreyou]

1. Elevator

True events reimagined.

No elevator Will take you to the top of whatever you think up and down is

I make a pact with myself. “Even if none of them are actually staying at the hotel, I will still have a great time. I am creating a fairytale for myself - for myself for a change”. 

Still, justifying a flagrant expense does not come particularly easy. On the way to the hotel, I triple-check for any evidence of my transparent passion, but it seems like all signs of the concert have been carefully hidden - apart from the mad pumping of adrenaline that’s going through every tiny capillary.

Do I look respectable enough? My suitcase is orange and slightly battered, graced by a space panda sticker; the guitar case is elephantine in comparison to the travel guitar it holds, but my coat is flawless, and my shoes are cool - and those cheekbones tell a tale of elegance even in the weirdest of circumstances.

It’s after midnight, and it’s a quick ride; London gently gleams under a young crescent moon.

As we pull up in front of the gorgeously festive entrance, I notice a familiar figure standing outside - Samuel Bañuelos III, smoking. My heart simultaneously falls and soars. The tour manager is always a good sign.

Get out of the cab, as gracefully as you can (note to self: keep trying) Do I have everything: guitar on one shoulder, a bag on the other and the suitcase. Make your way in Smile calmly, as if it’s all part of a routine Don’t let them know you’re an impostor (note to self: what?!)

Elevator. Historic elevator. Quite an old elevator. A pretty slow elevator. A madame in pearls, waiting. “Oh, coming in late, dear?” “It’s been a long day.” “Well you are sure to get some good rest here.” I wonder if she can tell that I’m in the middle of an adventure of a lifetime. Please keep being polite to me, it makes me feel like I can fake being natural superbly well.

Our chat is interrupted by the sound of voices approaching.

“Hey man, why are you coming in so late?” Samuel Bañuelos III appears, followed by none other than the cause of this entire insane campaign, Mister Josh Adam Klinghoffer. A cool jacket, one of many signature hats, a rectangular guitar case. “…Because of all the fffffffucking people” he mutters, with a tired temper. I allow myself a sly little half-smile in his direction.

Perhaps ‘mutters’ is not the right word here, for the madame immediately turns her head and splashes him with a look of sheer condemnation.

Well I feel like an antelope hiding in the bushes. If anyone looks me in the eye, I will be immediately, hopelessly found out. However, I can’t help but notice (thank you, Nature, for the corners of our eyes) Josh instantly going slightly red (probably cursing himself in his mind). Despite being embarrassed, his eyes wander to my guitar case. I guess curiosity is the best cure for embarrassment.

Finally, the marvelous elevator arrives. Inside there is gorgeous gold, a velvet bench, endless mirrors and enough space for three. Madame embarks. “I’m afraid there isn’t enough space here for us all to be transported comfortably. Good night”. There’s definitely place for me there. She pushes the button to close the doors quicker, but hastily pushes the opposite button and spends another 10 painful seconds avoiding looking at us, her brutal offenders.

Finally, the legendary golden doors conceal the madame as she is solemnly taken up.

I look over my shoulder and cast a quick, warm, understanding smirk at my fellow travelers.

“I’m sorry,” says Samuel Bañuelos III. “I’m not,” say I.

He laughs; Josh gently smiles, looking somewhat relieved. His eyes keep moving between two points in space: my guitar and my face. I notice that Samuel Bañuelos III notices it. Seems like he notices that I notice it, too.

Did I mention this luxurious elevator is…slow? Back in its day, it must have been a technical marvel of immense speed, but in 2016 it reminds us of a more elegant era when the perception of time was drastically different.

As we continue our wait, the tour manager/genius 35mm photographer quietly reminds the guitar player of the details of the next day, which can be summed up thusly: just be at the venue by 5.

Josh lets out a series of short, somewhat absent-minded ‘mmmmhm’s and I can feel both of their eyes on me.

Our ornate mode of transportation comes back to the ground floor and opens its shining doors.

I take a step forward, but my suitcase does not follow my lead: one of the wheels decides to take the night off.

“Let me help you with that,” Josh says in a quiet, sweet baritone. “Thank you so much.” I flash him with one of my best smiles.

I enter the lavish little room of elevation, J follows.

Samuel Bańuelos III does not. He’s standing there, failing to hide his smirk. “Might as well take the stairs, much quicker. I’ll see you tomorrow, man! G’night, miss”.

“See you, good night!” I smile. The doors close.

The insane serendipity of the situation flabbergasts me to the point of numbness. The odds of this happening were less than minuscule - and yet here we are. I am in the same elevator as Josh Klinghoffer. It’s just the two of us. He doesn’t seem to mind. I push 5. He asks for 6.

“Well, you are quite the suitcase tamer.” “It’s -,“ he clears his throat, “- it’s one of the few talents that I have mastered over the years.” Smiles are exchanged.

6 seconds of silence.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but notice your guitar - do you play?” I can almost see him mentally facepalming himself. “A tiny bit. I’m actually learning how to play bass, and this is the closest thing I have here”.

“Oh, bass, cool! It’s not exactly the same, though…” Beat. “……What do you mean?” It became a signature joke - pretending to be absolutely serious. He falls for it for three seconds, confusion followed by laughter.

“I know it’s pretty ridiculous, but it’s still better than nothing.” A pause, in which he looks at me with a spark in his eye. “I guess so”, he says, smiling and nodding. “I love bass…Are you in a band or - or just learning for yourself?” His voice is melodious and soothing. I notice that I feel oddly comfortable being one-on-one with him. “I am learning to join a band that consists entirely of wonderful friends.” “Wow, sounds excellent!”

Floor 5.

“Thank you so much, it was lov-“ “Oh, I’ll help you with the bags.”

We both step out of the exuberant mechanical wonder. I take a moment to fully look at him. Here he is, right in front of me, guitar case in one hand, my slightly scruffy orange suitcase in the other. “Thank you. It’s wonderful to know that chivalry isn’t dead.” “Oh, my pleasure.” We follow the arrows. Silently. “What - khm - what is the name of the band?” “We’re called The ************,” I say, unable to hide my gleaming pride. I’m in a dream come true, talking about another dream coming true.

“The ************…cool name.” “Thank you, we like it too.”

An exchange of smirks. His eyes are deep brown, with faint glimmers of deep gold. The charm of his smile drastically exceeds my (already high) expectations.

‘What kind of music do you play?” “Well, the official formula goes like this: progressive-aggressive punk post-pop cabaret!” “…..Wow. Well, that definitely got my interest!” I wonder if he sees how insanely happy I am right now. I feel radiant. All of a sudden we are standing outside of room 532.

“Five three two…that would be me,” I say softly, casting a gentle gaze upon him.

“Are y-you staying here for long? Sorry, that’s an inapp-“ “Two nights.” He nods, looking at the floor.

“I’m so sorry, taking up your time, it’s late, and you must be tired - not that you look tired -  I mean, it’s almost 2 AM, and -“ “Please don’t worry! Thank you so much for helping me, I really appreciate it.”

My cheeks begin to hurt from all the smiling.

“Besides, it’s you who is truly tired.”

Uh-oh.

He looks at me intently.

“I was”

Pause.

Just as I inhale to continue this dreamlike conversation, Josh mutters good night and leaves pretty abruptly.

I find myself standing in the middle of an empty corridor of a legendary London hotel. Fuck knows what just happened.

I open the door, drag the suitcase into the room, let the guitar slide to the floor, drop the bag and simply freeze, leaning against the door.

Fuck knows what just happened. I just had a fantastic encounter with Josh Klinghoffer… which ended with him running away. Was it because he realized that I follow him? Maybe he got scared of my incredible charm? Perhaps he had to take care of some dark necessities? Fuck knows. Fuck knows. ……fuck knows.

It’s still astonishing, though. It is still mind-blowingly incredible, though. It’s still absolutely bloody crazy fucking fantastic, though.

I put on some music, shuffle at first, but “Eye Opener” comes first and I have no desire to die by melting into this deep blue carpet.

I put on “Love of Your Life,” followed by “Never is a Long Time”. Soothing songs that accumulate that warm feeling of sheer magic. Unpack! Shower! Jump on the bed, celebrating your insane luck! Glee at the marvels of a five-star hotel! Go to bed in your beautiful silk nightgown to feel like a lady! Attempt to sleep and fail miserably!!

I sit up in bed, coming to terms with the fact that sleep seems like the least exciting thing to do right now.

I get up, throw on a black, sheer, floor-length, long-sleeved polka dot dressing gown (thank you, Dita Von Teese), slip into my elegant little slippers, grab a pen, a piece of paper, the door key and head out to wander the exquisite dimly lit corridors.

After all, life is too short to waste it on mediocrity. I dream of living in a Wes Anderson film, and so I create this opportunity for myself!

I slowly make my way through floor five, admiring the early 20th century sketches and caricatures on the walls, occasionally stopping to write down a thought, a line, a poem, a feeling, a spark. My path is deserted, with the exception of a gentleman eating chicken outside of room 502. The attention he gives me is minimal. My ghost-like promenade takes me to the staircase, and I hesitate, deciding whether to go up or make my descent. As I listen closely to my gut, I hear the peaceful wind behind the windows, the light rustling of branches, the mild ticking of a clock standing on a randomly beautiful table by the elevator, the soft humming of the lamps, quiet footsteps…footsteps? Chicken guy coming for seconds? I notice a figure lurking upstairs. A tall, somewhat lanky figure. The pattern of the figure’s movement is hesitant, but after a few pauses, I can hear it advancing towards my location. As the silhouette draws nearer, the floppy hair becomes painfully obvious. He notices me and freezes. Here I am, a sleepless vision, looking at Josh Klinghoffer…yet again.

There he is, in a black long-sleeved top that looks incredibly cozy and pajama pants that can be called ‘slim’ in comparison to his usual stage choices, looking at me.

A few moments pass, and he still hasn’t run away. Either his eyesight is not so good, or he’s not terrified.

He moves one step down. “Hi…” His voice lingers in the air. I take one step up. “…Hi” The night makes my voice deeper. The silence rings in my ears. Or is it the excitement? The adrenaline, perhaps? Does adrenaline ring? Dear brain, Please shut up.

“Can’t sleep?” He hesitates. “Yeah…still not sure which time zone I’m in” Pause. “….and you?” Now it’s my turn to take a dramatic pause. “…The night seemed to poetic to let it pass me by.”

He takes two more steps and murmurs something undecipherable.

“Sorry?” “That is beautiful,” he says, stepping onto the landing between floors. I smile with a slight exhale and stand by a window on the same level as him. I wonder how transparent this dressing gown really is.

“I’m surprised you didn’t run away just now.” His face changes immediately, a grimace of deep discontent followed by an expression of pure downheartedness.

He stares at the floor. “I am so sorry. I can’t believe you’re even talking to me right now. I - I hate the way I am sometimes.I felt as if I overstepped a line and didn’t think of anything better than to flee. Regretted it instantly. Punched a wall. Regretted that instantly. Felt idiotic since then”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that a conversation that I found so pleasant was a source of such agony to you…”

He looks up, comes to the window…stands opposite me. The pale light encompasses us both. We are looking at each other.

How is this not awkward? Magic.

“I never asked you your name.” “You have a chance now.” He smirks and softly shakes his head. “I’m ***. *********.” “Hi, ***” “Hi,” I say, with a secret smile in the corners of my mouth. “And you are?…” We both laugh. He seems wildly relieved. “Josh.” “Well, lovely to meet you, Josh.” I extend my hand. He shakes it with an air of mock-importance. His hands are big, with long, graceful, restless fingers and obvious veins. His handshake is careful yet firm. My handshake is strong and enthusiastic. I celebrate our first physical contact by zapping him with a shot of static electricity. He looks mildly impressed.

“Are you from the States?” “Why do you ask?” “Well…your accent sounds American.” “Yeah…I’m actually *******.” “*******?!” “**!” (yes) “Haha…Your English is superb!” “Thank you! All thanks to my brilliant parents.” “Are they American?” “Nope, my whole family is completely *******, aside from a couple of Jews.” “Ah, haha! So you live in…******?” “I do.” “It’s a beautiful place.” “Thank you! It is as strange as it is beautiful.” “That’s a good way of putting it…” “Coming from you that’s a big compliment.” His eyes become more serious. I hesitate…and dive right in. “I think that you write some of the most beautiful music in the world.” He begins to examine his shoelaces. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. But it is true…at least to me.” He finally looks up, his gaze fixated through the window. “Someday I will learn to take compliments calmly…possibly” “That might come in handy one day…” He looks at me and smiles, tucking his hair behind his ears. “***? Can I ask you something?” “I don’t see why not” “It might be a bit of an odd question.” “Those are my absolute favourites.” He pauses for a few moments. “What kind of guitar did you bring here?” I laugh, looking at the ceiling. “It’s a travel guitar. Smaller, lighter, waterproof. Perfect for a campfire evening…but I’m not a big fan of camps.” “Neither am I…but I’d love to take a look at it, haven’t seen one of those in a long, long time…if you wouldn’t mind?” I smile softly. I feel as if a little boy asked me to show him a wonderful toy. “Sure.” “So…you’re here for two nights, right?” “Exactically so…sorry, that’s a quote from Alice in Wonderland.” “Oh, you don’t have to apologize for quoting a great book…I’m sorry for not recognizing it!” I grin, he grins, we both look out of the window. Venus is shining bright, like a lighthouse for dreamers.

“What are you doing tomorrow morning?” I hesitate, not believing my ears. THINK OF SOMETHING COOL. “Beginning a wondrous day” Jesus Christ on a motorbike that sounds pretentious as fuck. “Would joining me for breakfast spoil the wondrous day?” “On the contrary, it would make a wondrous day exceptionally fantastic.” He looks mildly shocked and stays silent for a pretty damn long time, paying much attention to his hair. Classic ***: scaring people away with wild enthusiasm since 1991 (c) Well, no point in backing off now! “…Shall we meet…downstairs?” He clears his throat yet again, fiddling the bleached strands of his infamous hairdo. “Actually I was wondering if I could pick you up at, let’s say”, - he checks his simple, elegant, clearly trusted and well-worn black-strapped watch, - “10 o’clock?” “Sounds perfect…I am flattered!” He smiles with a slight air of inhibition. “Believe me,” he says. “I’m the one who is flattered.” We look at each other, unashamedly smiling. I’m the one who breaks the spell. “See you in six and a half hours, then.” His smile becomes wider. To say that he is charming is to say absolutely nothing at all. “Sweet dreams.” “You too…good night.” We hesitate, look at each other and laugh. “Bye!” I start descending. At the bottom of the stairs, I turn around and see him still standing there, watching me. “See you soon…”

You can't concede that you have no control But if your eyes are open, your heart is open, your life is open wide

2.02.2017

[magzoso-tech]

Startups Weekly: Where social startups will get funding in the future

New Post has been published on https://magzoso.com/tech/startups-weekly-where-social-startups-will-get-funding-in-the-future/

Startups Weekly: Where social startups will get funding in the future

[Editor’s note: Want to get this free weekly recap of TechCrunch news that startups can use by email? Subscribe here.] 

While consumer tech has matured as a startup category in recent years, many investors continue to be bullish on specific trends like online gaming, voice, and the unbundling of platforms in favor of focused social networks. That’s the key takeaway from a survey that Josh Constine and Arman Tabatabai did this week with 16 of the most active investors in key social product categories over on Extra Crunch. Here’s an excerpt of the responses, from Olivia Moore and Justine Moore of CRV:

“Unbundling of YouTube.” You can build a big company by targeting a vertical within YouTube with a product that has better features and more opportunities for creator monetization. Twitch is a great example of this! We’re also watching early-stage companies like Supergreat (in beauty) and Tingles (ASMR).

Voice as a social medium. Voice continues to pick up steam as a broadcast medium via podcasting, but we haven’t seen a lot in social or P2P voice yet. We think a successful platform will leverage the fact that voice content can be created and consumed while doing other things. We’re big fans of companies like TTYL and Drivetime that are making strides here!

Flexible digital identities. Gen Zers are online constantly but have different preferences across platforms/friend groups about how they want to “show up” digitally. The rise of “Finsta” accounts is one good example of this. Companies like Facemoji already help users create social content using a curated digital avatar — we’re excited to see what else founders build here!

Synchronous, shared mobile experiences. We’re bullish on apps that connect users in real time to have a shared social experience. Most apps now are “single-player,” which creates scroll fatigue. HQ Trivia was an early example more on the entertainment side, while companies like Squad help users browse the internet and watch TikTok together.

Other respondees include: Connie Chan (Andreessen Horowitz). Alexis Ohanian (Initialized Capital), Niko Bonatsos (General Catalyst), Josh Coyne (Kleiner Perkins), Wayne Hu (Signal Fire), Alexia Bonatsos (Dream Machine), Josh Elman (angel investor), Aydin Senkut (Felicis Ventures), James Currier (NFX), Pippa Lamb (Sweet Capital), Christian Dorffer (Sweet Capital), Jim Scheinman (Maven Ventures), Eva Casanova (Day One Ventures) and Dan Ciporin (Canaan).

EC subscribers please note: a second part of this survey will be running this coming week, focused specifically on social investing in the COVID-19 era.

Are VCs investing — or maintaining?

Speaking of financing, who is actually writing checks right at this moment in time?

“I’ve seen a lot of VCs talking about being open for business,” Eniac Ventures founding partner Hadley Harris proclaimed on a fundraising-trend panel this week, “and I’ve been pretty outspoken on Twitter that I think that’s largely bullshit and sends the wrong message to entrepreneurs.” Instead, as Connie Loizos covered for us on TechCrunch, he said he didn’t have time to talk to more founders because he was so busy helping existing portfolio companies.

Not every investor agrees with that viewpoint —  VC Twitter features many an anecdote about fresh companies getting funding. 

Let’s just hope that both things are true, because it is already rough out there. 

Does your startup qualify for a PPP loan? (And should you apply?)

Two debates have been raging around government support for startups. First, the big, messy new Paycheck Protection Program — designed to cover expenses for small businesses — does seem to be somewhat available to startups, based on revisions published by the Small Business Administration late last week. But things get complicated quick depending on your fundraising and cap table, as Jon Shieber covered last weekend for TechCrunch. Venture firms typically have controlling interests in a portfolio of companies that total more than 500 people, so if such a firm also has a controlling interest in your startup, you may not be eligible. Even if the VC stake is under 50%, preferred terms that came with the fundraising may your application afoul of the rules.

To help founders work through their own situations faster, startup lawyer William Carleton wrote a quick guide for Extra Crunch. Here’s where he says you need to start:

Do you have a minority investor which controls protective covenants in your charter, or which controls a board seat afforded certain veto rights on board decisions? If the answer to either fork of that question is “yes,” you almost certainly have confirmed that you will need to amend your charter and/or other governing documents before proceeding with a PPP application.

The other aspect, of course, is whether startups should be applying for this in the first place. Congress broadly intended the money to go towards small to medium sized businesses, most of whom would never be considered for venture. Shieber’s article is full of comments on that topic, if you feel like weighing in….

The commercial real estate comeuppance

If you’re like me, and you’ve started companies in the Bay Area and struggled to find office space you could afford, enjoy this bit of schadenfraude as you plot your remote-first future. Because the commercial real estate industry is facing an existential crisis after many, many years of rent-seeking upon the Silicon Valley tech economy (and everyone else).

Connie explored this exploding topic with a range of startups, investors and CRE agents in a big feature for TechCrunch this week. One analyst “expects the market to come down by ‘at least 10% and probably 20% to 30%’ from where commercial space in San Francisco has priced in several years, which is $88 per square foot, according to CBRE. Driving the expected drop is the 2 million square feet that will come onto the market in the city as soon as it’s possible — space that companies want to get off their books.”

It’s quite possible to imagine even bigger declines, given the broader hits that most any possible tenant is also taking to their budgets. Who knows, maybe this whole process will even help make the Bay Area and other wealthy metros a little more affordable again.

Edtech gets hot again, according to investors

After lots of money and lots of struggle over the past decade, edtech is suddenly hot again thanks to the pandemic. Natasha Mascaranhas has been covering the trend recently, and dug in this week with a big investor survey on the category for Extra Crunch.

“One investor pivoted from spending a third of their time looking at edtech companies to devoting almost all their time to the sector,” she tells me. “Another, who has been bullish for years on edtech, says its business as usual for them, but that competition may arise. An ed-tech focused fund thinks the sector has been underfunded for a while, so the moment of reckoning has begun.”

Respondents include:

Jenny Lee, GGV

Tetyana Astashkina, LearnLaunch

Jean Hammond, LearnLaunch

Marlon Nichols, MaC Venture Capital

Mercedes Bent, Lightspeed Venture Partners

Jennifer Carolan, Reach Capital

Shauntel Garvey, Reach Capital

Jan Lynn-Matern, Emerge Education

Lesa Mitchell, Techstars

Tory Patterson, Owl Ventures

Ian Chiu, Owl Ventures 

Tony Wang, 500 Startups

Across the week:

TechCrunch

Economists haven’t thrown out the models yet (but they will)

Five CEOs on their evolution in the femtech space

Equity Monday: Hunting for green shoots amid the startup data

Extra Crunch

How SaaS startups should plan for a turbulent Q2

Fintech’s uneven new reality has helped some startups, harmed others

Fast-changing regulations give virtual care startups a chance to seize the moment

Twilio CEO Jeff Lawson on shifting a 3,000-person company to fully remote

Amid unicorn layoffs, Boston startups reflect on the future

#EquityPod

From Alex:

We started with a look at Clearbanc  and its runway extension not-a-loan program, which may help startups survive that are running low on cash. Natasha covered it for TechCrunch. Most of us know about Clearbanc’s revenue-based financing model; this is a twist. But it’s good to see companies work to adapt their products to help other startups survive.

Next we chatted about a few rounds that Danny covered, namely Sila’s $7.7 million investment to help build technology that could take on the venerable and vulnerable ACH, and Cadence’s $4 million raise to help with securitization. Even better, per Danny, they are both blockchain-using companies. And they are useful! Blockchain, while you were looking elsewhere, has done some cool stuff at last.

Sticking to our fintech theme — the show wound up being super fintech-heavy, which was an accident — we turned to SoFi’s huge $1.2 billion deal to buy Galileo, a Utah-based payments company that helps power a big piece of UK-based fintech. SoFi is going into the B2B fintech world after first attacking the B2C realm; we reckon that if it can pull the move off, other financial technology companies might follow suit.

Tidying up all the fintech stories is this round up from Natasha and Alex, working to figure out who in fintech is doing poorly, who’s hiding for now, and who is crushing it in the new economic reality.

Next we touched on layoffs generally, layoffs at Toast, AngelList, and not LinkedIn — for now. Per their plans to not have plans to have layoffs. You figure that out.

And then at the end, we capped with good news from Thrive and Index. We didn’t get to Shippo, sadly. Next time!

Listen to the full thing here!

[yahoo-roto-arcade-blog]

Bats now, pitching later: Pianow's 2018 LABR draft

Two Boston bashers were early picks in a recent expert draft (AP)

I’ve been playing fantasy baseball since the late 1980s, and while I don’t mass-market my strategies or try to make them into cute branding acronyms, I’ve always had two primary maxims I bring to any draft or auction table:

— Get hitting first, figure out the pitching later

— Draft or auction day is about acquiring value; worry about balance later

I drafted this week in the 15-team LABR mixed draft (5×5 scoring, two catchers), and my results weren’t overly popular with some of the pundits and peanut galleries. That’s not a concern to me; I’m not trying to make picks that will gain me favor with others or attract attention. I wasn’t going to force early picks on pitching and I probably made a mistake not taking at least one horse at the front of my rotation, but it’s a long season. I have time to move the pieces around.

[Batter up: Join a Yahoo Fantasy Baseball league for free today]

A light-pitching strategy has been my regular companion in the Yahoo Friends & Family League over the years, with regular success. I did something similar in Tout Mixed last year and it was a mess, though that’s as much because my offense tanked as much as my pitching did. This strategy isn’t as executable in LABR mixed because FAAB is capped at $100 and there are no zero bids, and I don’t know the trading windows as well as I do in my Yahoo turf. But anytime Fred Zinkie is in the room, you know trades will be made (granted, Zinkie trades usually wind up winning for Zinkie; caveat emptor).

Here’s an explanation of who I picked and why I picked them. If you want the full draft board, it’s viewable here.

• Mookie Betts, OF, Red Sox (1.09, 9th overall): Just had the worst season he’ll probably ever have in his 20s and was still a four-category stud. Batting average littered with flukiness; he’s a career .292 hitter. Strong lineup, favorable park. With an outfielder in tow, I will now lean infielders, at least as a tiebreak, for a few rounds.

• Anthony Rizzo, 1B, Cubs (2.07, 22nd overall): The steals could dry up at any time and he might be closer to batting-average neutral, but like Betts this is a player in a favorable offense, around peak age. I would have strongly considered Carlos Correa and Francisco Lindor in this spot, they were both gone. And with five starting pitchers off the board, I wasn’t going to take an arm here.

• Anthony Rendon, 3B, Nationals (3.09, 39th overall): I didn’t pay attention to ADP prior to this draft — I don’t think we’re deep enough into draft season that it means much — but I probably took him a round early. Rendon is similar to my first two picks — a player in a strong lineup, in his prime years, who has a wide range of skills. Rendon is often mentioned as an injury risk, but he’s played 147 games or more in three of four seasons. (In retrospect, Jacob deGrom would have been a fine pick in this spot.)

• Jonathan Schoop, 2B, Orioles (4.07, 52nd overall): His 2017 breakout becomes a little less interesting when you consider the shape of baseball last year, but if Schoop winds up closer to the player he was in 2016, I still feel validated using an early pick on him. And like my first three picks, this is a player in his mid-20s, the sweet spot. (I came close to picking Justin Verlander here, but the “age 34” sign kept flashing and I backed off. Knowing what I know how, I take Verlander, secure an anchor.)

[2018 Fantasy Baseball rankings: Overall | H | P | C | 1B | 2B | 3B |SS | OF | SP | RP]

• Xander Bogaerts, SS, Red Sox (5.09, 69th overall): Playing hurt in the second half, his stats collapsed. But he’s just year removed from .294-115-21-89-13, and he’s buoyed by the same park and lineup that Betts is. Another player in his mid-20s. (Flying pitching continued to fly off the board and I didn’t consider Jose Quintana or Aaron Nola worthy of fifth-round picks, though I do like both of them. How do you make a profit that way?)

• Matt Carpenter, 1B, Cardinals (6.07, 82nd overall): I’ll admit I have a Carpenter problem, and I’m willing to write off last year’s mediocre season to injuries. But maybe he’s more injury prone than I care to accept. I think of the top four in the St. Louis lineup — Fowler, Pham, Carpenter, Ozuna — and I want a piece of it. Carpenter’s lovely position eligibility from last year doesn’t qualify now — you need 20 games in LABR, or five in-season — but maybe it will show up again. (Starting pitchers I passed up: Gerrit Cole, Dallas Keuchel — thought he might slip a little later — and Jake Arrieta, who’s moving in the wrong direction.)

• Adam Jones, OF, Orioles (7.09, 99th overall): After a couple of players coming off injury-dinged seasons, I balance out with a boring-but-durable veteran. No one is going to give you hipster cred when you pick this type of player, but many +EV fantasy moves are mundane in nature. (The only starting pitcher I missed in the 7-8 pocket is Michael Fulmer, who struck me as a major overdraft.)

• J.T. Realmuto, C, Marlins (8.07, 112th overall): He’s not insulated by a good lineup, though he could easily be traded at any point in the season. Two-catcher leagues are a pain in the neck when the league runs 15 teams, which is why I want some volume there. Another player parked into his prime, entering his age-27 season. I’d love it if he could steal 10-plus bases, but it’s hard to rely on that from a catcher.

• Mike Moustakas, 3B, Unsigned (9.09, 129th overall): It’s fun to dream of him in a favorable park, though the unexciting Royals loom as a logical return spot. I felt a strong gravitational pull to a pitcher, but look at who went after the Moose pick — Kyle Hendricks, Luke Weaver, David Price, not a sure thing in that mix. Moustakas is a rare power hitter who doesn’t strike out, and his pedigree long hinted that 2017’s breakout was possible. I’m focusing on best-bat-available here, not concerned with position overlap. I do need to address stolen bases at some point, though.

• Didi Gregorius, SS, Yankees (10.7, 142nd overall): Is it possible to be underrated and on a high-profile team like the Yankees? Gregorius makes a strong case. Another power-hitter who doesn’t strike out, and perhaps underrated in a room of SABR-leaning players because Gregorius doesn’t walk much. Entering his age-28 season — it’s not that young players can’t get hurt, but I love how young this roster is.

• Jay Bruce, OF, Mets (11.09, 159th overall pick): Much like the Jones pick, a boring veteran who is fairly easy to project. You can’t have enough power in today’s game. I am digging a hole in steals, though.

• Andrew Miller, RP, Indians (12.07, 172nd overall pick): I finally take a pitcher and it’s not a starter or a closer? Well, the sure-closer bets were dried up, and none of the starters were that enticing, and Miller at least gives me a first piece of building quality ratios. My likely starting staff is going to challenge those ratios, but maybe I can pair Miller with another ace reliever and treat that as a de-facto ace. Miller’s wins and saves were fairly light last year given that the Indians love to use him in high-leverage spots; I expect a modest bounce-back in that area, as unreliable as those stats can be.

• Michael Taylor, OF, Nationals (13.00, 189th overall pick): It’s hard to trust last year’s average given his free swinging, but he’s a power-speed option, his glove keeps him in the lineup, and this is another player tied to a strong supporting cast, even as he might slot near the bottom of the lineup. Entering his age-27 season.

• Julio Teheran, SP, Braves (14.07, 202nd overall pick): Maybe the new park spooked him, but he was excellent in 2014 and 2016 and useful in 2015. Still just 27. I know, he should be a middle-staff guy, not someone’s default No. 1. But the goal of a draft is to acquire value and not worry about balance. I have seven months to try to make this puzzle work.

[Join our $100K NBA Baller contest: $10 to enter and $10K to first]

• Kevin Gausman, SP, Orioles (15.09, 219th overall pick): At this point, I’m just looking for plausible upside with my starting-pitcher dart throws. Maybe Gausman figured something out in the second half, when he had a 3.41 ERA and better than a strikeout per inning. Entering age-27 season.

• Avisail Garcia, OF, White Sox (16.07, 232nd overall pick): One of my favorite selections on the evening, a play that will commonly work in a room of smart people. Because very few SABR-leaning pundits will take Garcia’s 2017 breakout at face value, there’s a strong pull to make sure you’re not “the sucker” who pays for those stats. As a result, the fade often gets unreasonably strong, allowing someone to scoop up a tremendous bargain. Regression should never finish the conversation, it’s merely the start of the conversation. Garcia can give back a lot of last year and still make a profit for me. Entering age-27 season.

• Josh Harrison, 2B/3B, Pirates (17.09, 249th overall pick): Qualifies at two infield spots and maybe he’ll scoop up another in-season. A career .281 hitter with some pop and speed. The Pirates have become a somewhat-pedestrian roster as they move big names, which could screen some of their leftover values.

• Josh Hader, RP, Brewers (18.09, 262nd overall pick): It is often a mistake to go after last year’s non-closing heroes — the goal is often to find the next Hader or Chad Green or Chris Devenski, not chase last year’s emergence. But you see Hader’s 12.8 K/9 and electric stuff and it’s easy to fall in love. I am not sold on Corey Knebel as a closer, either, and the Brewers fancy themselves contenders — they probably won’t give Knebel an extended leash. But even if Hader never gets close to the ninth, I expect him to massage the ratios.

• Brad Ziegler, RP, Marlins (19.07, 279th overall pick): I can’t defend him as a ratios pick, but Ziggy might play the ninth in Miami — he’s the current favorite — and that has some value.

• Chris Iannetta, C, Rockies (20.07, 292nd overall pick): His contract suggests Colorado brought him back to be the primary starter. It often takes catchers a while to mature as offensive players; Iannetta climbed a level last year.

• Tanner Roark, SP, Nationals (21.09, 309th overall pick): As fluky as wins seem to be, I’ll take my chances on the teams expected to win 90-plus ballgames. And the NL East could be easy pickings, especially with Miami bottoming out. Like Teheran, Roark was excellent in 2014 and 2016. The floor is not sturdy here, but there’s enough upside to take a stab.

• Jake Odorizzi, SP, Rays (22.07, 322nd overall pick): Hasn’t been the most durable guy, but a career 3.83/1.22 pitcher this late makes sense. Obviously I want him to stick in the womb of Tampa Bay, all those cushy home starts, and maybe I’ll steer him from some of the jagged road assignments.

• Joakim Soria, RP, White Sox (23.09, 339th overall pick): One of the main contenders for the ninth inning in Chicago.

• Carl Edwards, RP, Cubs (24.07, 352nd overall pick): I’m not going to assume Brandon Morrow has a smooth takeoff as the Chicago closer. Edwards has the strikeout stuff to close; if he can improve the control, this could be a special pitcher. And if he winds up being a non-closing reliever, at least he’s on a winning team, leading to more potential collateral benefits.

• Raul Mondesi, 2B, Royals (25.09, 369th pick): He hasn’t hit in Kansas City, though it’s been a tiny sample. It’s too early (and convenient; heck, lazy) to conclude we know who he’ll be. Slashed .305/.340/.539 in Triple-A, with 13 homers and 21 steals over 85 games. This late, all you want is some plausible upside.

• Dustin Pedroia, 2B, Red Sox (26.07, 382nd pick): Category juice might be out the window, but always hits for a plus average. Obviously ticketed for the DL to start, which might be a feature, not a bug, this late in the draft — one free dip into the replacement pool.

[Salfino and Pianowski review the Mixed LABR draft on the Breakfast Table Podcast]

• Matt Shoemaker, SP, Angels (27.09, 399th pick): Health obviously a problem through his career, but when the splitter is right, the strikeout upside is appealing. A lottery ticket.

• Steve Cishek, RP, Cubs (28.09, 412nd pick): Another bet against Brandon Morrow in Chicago. Quietly got back on track in Tampa Bay last year (2.14/0.81), for whatever 24.2 innings means to you.

• Cameron Maybin, OF, Free Agent (29.7, 429th overall pick): Maybe he’ll sign with a club that needs to play him. Has some steals upside. Will be easy to cut in March or April if it doesn’t come together.

— Team Strengths: All the non-steal offensive categories, offensive depth, age, no weak field positions.

— Team Weaknesses: Everything related to pitching (Steve Gardner, unfortunately, won’t allow this to be a 5×0 league).

— What I need to do: Explore the pitcher market, and try to be early and proactive to possible breakouts. And not listen to the noise, especially from those not in the arena.

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