#while kevin is like 'do you think you underestimated how long this build would take?'

[colgatebluemintygel]

WIWHW is my all time comfort fic! Was just wondering if you were planning on adding to it! Thank you for writing it, I’ve read it probably 5 times

helloooo anon <3 5 times !!!! i genuinely cannot comprehend that just <3 wahhh. thank you <3

i definitely am planning on it! and i'm v excited about the sequels (i have one half-written, even), i just don't have a lot of spoons avail at the present to devote to actually making them happen :-(( but SOOn i prommy i miss those 2 soooooo bad xxxx

#wiwhw #pigeon post #i have sooooo many ideas though like. it truly is a sprawling au in my mind #it's just the putting it down on paper (a google doc) that is proving challenging #the grand designs special ep tho 🤭🤭🤭🤭 i can't wait #their house will not be watertight by winter. and the windows will be delayed. they will go over budget #and sirius Will fire 3 architects #meanwhile remus is just there like yes babe <3 whatever you want babe <3 #no one will die tho <3 or get pregnant #but we are checking every other box on the hypothetical grand designs bingo card #just picturing the two of them standing there in the rain in their little hard hats frowning about the unprecedented spring weather #while kevin is like 'do you think you underestimated how long this build would take?' #🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

[psych0midget]

Secret Stan Account AU Part 2

Part 1

It doesn’t take long for people to figure out that A. Minyard’s book is dedicated to Neil Josten. NEIL FREAKING JOSTEN. Like Neil Josten, the one and only exy player who can play every position? He’s a formidable backliner, a precise dealer (though he hates the position, fiercely) and one of the most promising strikers of the exy panorama? That Neil Josten? Oh. My. God.

Neil has thousands, millions of fans out there. But he had seriously underestimated it. It doesn’t take long for his fans to put two and two together, realise that he has a secret stan account and start looking for it.

It also doesn’t take them long to find it, not when Neil didn’t have the foresight of using a fake name on twitter. There are only so many book twt accounts run by someone called Neil.

Most of his fans are excited about it. Some are not. Especially when they realise that his account is also a Kevin Day stan account.

It’s a pr nightmare, that’s what Allison tells him as soon as he picks up the phone. She tries to keep everything under control, but by the time Neil’s done with the meetings, the interviews and all the unnecessary drama, he opens up Twitter only to find out that his stan account has been deleted.

And so has Drew’s.

Neil curses. He hadn’t had time to text Drew and tell him that he’d seen the dedication. And Drew, or rather A. Minyard has no official social medias. He’s fucked, he’s well and truly fucked.

The only source of info is the website of Drew’s publisher. But there’s a just a short bio saying that A. Minyard is a 27 year old author from Columbia. Has three cats and knows how to use knives, he swears the fight scenes in his books are all real. There’s also a photo and it’s the portrait of a blond man with eyes the color of honey staring impassively at the camera. And It’s the only thing Neil has left of Drew.

Jean Moreau gets back home only to find his roommate looking at his laptop, tabs and tabs and tabs open on his desktop. There’s a cup of coffee on the ground, a half-eaten sandwich on the rug (!!!) and a phone book (he had no idea those things still existed in 2019) on the sofa.

Jean ushers Jeremy inside the apartment, closes the door behind them and sighs. “Have you tried calling your uncle yet?” he asks. “I tried, but it’s 3am in the UK, he’s not picking up.”

Jean had meant it as a joke. A joke. Jean will kill Neil if the FBI doesn’t kill him first. “You tried calling the British mafia just to find your internet boyfriend? Are you nuts?”

Neil, the bastard, doesn’t even look sorry.

Jean almost starts shaking as he tries NOT to throw a chair at Neil’s, but Jeremy wraps his arm around his waist and rubs slow circles on his hip till he calms down. God bless Jeremy, god bless Jeremy especially when he says “You know Minyard’s doing a book tour right? He should be in Chicago next week, you could always show up there?”.

And Neil, Neil who’s lost his fucking mind for a guy he became friends with on twitter, finally relaxes his shoulders and looks at Jeremy like he’s hung the moon. (Jean is going to murder Neil if he keeps staring at his boyfriend like that.)

Neil goes to the M&G with Minyard in Chicago. He pretends he’s not nervous, but he is. If the endless queue in front of the book shop is any indication, this won’t go down well.

And in fact it doesn’t.

It doesn’t because the fans recognize him, they start asking for selfies and autographs and all hell breaks loose. When Minyard finally appears he just glares at him, at the caos around him and tells him to fuck off. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jean welcomes him home with a bottle of vodka and Neil doesn’t drink, but he’s with Jean and Jean knows everything about him. He downs more than half a bottle before he finally passes out on the sofa.

Neil wakes up to the sound of his phone pinging and pinging and pinging. There’s phone calls, texts, more phone calls and hundreds, probably thousands of twitter notifications. Apparently, drunk Neil had tweeted “a mynyard s a douche” from his official account. Neil groans. Allison is gonna kill him.

Turns out that it’s Kevin Day who tries to kill him.

It goes like this.

When Neil had said that Kevin Day could punch him in the face and he’d thank him, he hadn’t meant it l i t e r a l l y.

And yet he’s at the Christmas gala with his team in South Carolina. He’d thought the 12-hour drive drom Chicago to Columbia would be the worst part of it. But apparently Kevin Day is set on changing his mind.

Neil doesn’t even get to say “Hi” to him before Kevin grabs the collar of his shirt and hoists him up against the wall. He almost chokes him. But it’s the words he utters that really do the thing. “Don’t you ever insult my brother again.”

It’s Nicky Hemmick, the Seakings’ physio, who picks him up off the floor as soon as Kevin leaves. “What the fuck’s wrong with him?” Neil asks while Nicky’s busy checking Kevin hasn’t seriously hurt him. “He’s just a protective asshole.” “But I don’t even know who’s his brother.” “Ever heard of A Minyard?”

And that fucker winks at him, he winks at him.

Neil tells himself that Nicky deserves it when he pushes him away and makes a run for Kevin. If he runs fast enough, he should be able to get to him before Kevin leaves the building. The problem is that, when he catches up to Kevin, he doesn’t even think twice before shouting “I didn’t know he was your brother, but in my defence he really is a douche.”

This time there’s nobody who can help him when Kevin punches him in the face and knocks him out. Sometimes Neil wishes he was born mute.

Things only escalate from that moment on.

Neil wakes up on a hospital bed, Minyard staring down at him. Maybe it’s the painkillers. It must be the painkillers. But he’s pretty sure he hears Minyard saying “if it wasn’t for Andrew, I would’ve left you to die and blamed Kevin,” before he blacks out again.

The second time he wakes up, he just thinks he’s still hallucinating (or maybe he’s dead?) because he sees double. There’s two Minyards staring down at him. He doesn’t even try to make sense of what he’s seeing, he just closes his eyes.

The third time he wakes up, he sees Kevin on his bedside and Neil tries to fake his own death. The ECG beating next to his bed betrays him, though. “I’ve been told I have to apologise if I don’t want a knife between my ribs.”

Kevin begins telling him that he is the adoptive brother of Drew, also known as Andrew Minyard. Who also happens to have a twin brother, Aaron Minyard, neurologist by day and fake-Andrew by night. Who didn’t really like the idea of anyone lying to his twin. That’s why he’d been rude to him in Chicago.

And would he please, please, talk with Andrew because he’s become insufferable since Neil had stopped texting him? He’s been threatening to kill Aaron at least twice as much as he used to.

“He even said that he’s miscalculated everything, you had a crush on me and didn’t like him at all -“ “Fuck’s sake NO, I wouldn’t touch your pompous ass with ten feet pole.”

And it’s at that point that Andrew barges into the hospital room telling Kevin to shut up. Looks Neil in the eyes, says “you just because of what you said to Kevin” and then he kisses him. He kisses him.

Years and years later, after some more pining, thousands of kisses and a key to an apartment in Chicago, Andrew would say that he had not done such a thing. But he had, oh he had.

Years and years later Andrew would also admit that the main character of the Tragic Waste of Skin saga was actually inspired by Neil. Apparently, he’d seen Neil’s face on one of Kevin’s sports mags, he’d read the transcript of the interview that had made a goalkeeper cry on tv and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

Years and years later Andrew would write the final book of his saga. The dedication would say: “To Neil, Marry me? Yes or no? Drew”

Years and years later Neil would tweet from his official account “a minyard’s still a douche”. Attached to the tweet a photo of Andrew glaring at the camera with his hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate, a wedding ring on his finger.

#all for the game #aftg #andreil #tfc #aftg fic #andreil fic #andreil au #mine*

[maviemesregles]

Twas two days before Christmas

This one-shot fic was written for @thelallybrochlibrary​ Holiday exchange.

A prompt from @maryooch​ :  "How about Jamie meets Claire while she’s trying to skate (badly) at Rockefeller center during the Christmas season. Both are unattached and in the city for different reasons."

Special thanks to Anne  @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​  for always getting my messy ideas and improving them. For once again for making sure it's nice and readable for you guys.

Hope you enjoy and feel a wee bit festive! ❄️

AO3

New York, New York Frank Sinatra sang. The Big Apple stretched out all the way to the horizon in a milky white blanket of snow. The skyline pierced with gleaming structures of steel, glass, and concrete.

Claire stared out of the window where snow became even thicker than an hour ago and turned the buildings into giant ice cream cones.

“Honey, are you there?”

“Yes, Mum.” Beauchamp pressed her ear to her iPhone and climbed onto the high hotel bed. “I’m listening.”

“Baby, what did they tell you about the flight? Father has been calling British Airways at least a hundred times today. You know what he’s like.” Julia Beauchamp rattled around in the kitchen cupboards.

Claire dropped her head into the mass of pillows crispy scented of fresh laundry.

Of course, something like this could have happened only to her. After the three-day medical conference in New York, with bags full of gifts, sweets, booze for Dad, and cosmetics for Mum, Claire was ready to go back home for the holidays.

But this year the family tradition wasn’t going to happen because Claire got stuck in this city for God knows how long. The heavy blizzard came upon New York, forcing all the transatlantic flights to be cancelled. Red-faced, hands full of bags, and sweaty in her jumper, the English surgeon hissed “Fucking morons” when she was told she’s not flying today. And most likely not for the next three days. Her cell-phone kindly reminded her today is the 22nd day of December. Only two days left before Christmas. If not for being scared to be without a means of contact, Claire surely would have smashed the device on the white airport tiles.

“They put me into the hotel. It’s all paid.” She glanced at her suitcase, surrounded by shopping bags. “All flights to London cancelled.”

Reaching into one of the bags, Claire grabbed a chocolate bar, not caring about a proper lunch at the moment.

“What about Bristol? Manchester? Anything at all?” Her mother sighed, looking at the shopping list for Christmas dinner. “Dad could pick you up. Lamb just got the car back, all fixed.”

Chewing on the mint chocolate, Claire flicked through the menu on the side table.

“Nothing. I even checked flights to Edinburgh and Dublin. It looks like I’m stuck here.”

There was silence for a while. Claire could hear their dog Pop, an old pug, snoring in the background. All she wants to do is cry. Is it so much to ask? To be home for Christmas time?

“Oh, darling.” Her mother’s voice is soft and reassuring. She knows. “It’ll be fine. I’m certain that you will get home right in time for Christmas.”

After a brief goodbye, Claire checks the flight schedules again. Her frustration mounts and she begins to pace a circular path for at least ten minutes. Her nerves begin to fail her and she decides a cup of chamomile tea would be just the thing.

“Or better yet, a bottle of red," she speaks out loud filling the void for the room. She may as well take advantage of all this suite has to offer.

Her body relaxes into the lavender-scented bath foam, warming her chilly flesh as the fruity Sauvignon Blanc infuses her mouth. Later spurred by the TV forecast (damn the winter) Claire gets into leggings and oversized, knitted horridness of a sweater (decorated with mistletoes and festive ornaments all over it).  She shortly video chats with Geillis who is hugely disappointed Claire won’t get to the annual work party at the hospital.

“I do hope ye willna waste yer time in New York, a thasgaidh,*” hummed her ginger colleague. “Go to Time Square, Central Park or… Oh, weeeel, ye can go skating! Mebbe ye’ll find some attractive American who’d lay an eye on ye.” Geillis smirked.

Checking the explosion of hair on her head in the mirror, Claire sighed.

“If that attractive American is a pilot that takes me home, I would not mind, just tell me where to find him.” She tried to secure the naughty curls into something that could resemble a bun but eventually giving up.  “I feel like bloody Kevin McCallister,” Claire said as she slid into her boots.

“Weel, just dinna get in trouble with burglars.” Edgars barked a laugh and wished Beauchamp to have fun.

                                                   🎄  🎄  🎄    

Claire surely could say that Christmas time in New York must be wonderful. Even though her mood sunk to the lowest level, she became determined to raise her spirits. God, all those books about positivity and visualization her Mum reads out loud to her should have a hint of truth to them. Right?

The streets were decked with glimmering lights and dazzling displays. The chill in the air burned her cheeks and Claire was swept up into the herd of people like a fluffy sheep in her soft white woolly coat.

Roads were covered in a sparkling powder that made a nostalgic crunchy sound under feet. People were dressed in layers of scarves, cardigans, and warm winter coats. Some held onto hot beverages to warm their hands as well as their bodies. Some brave tourists were sporting red noses just like the one of Rudolph the reindeer Claire had seen in a Macy’s display. Everything was bright and festive. All the Christmas lights twinkled and the colourful signboards reflected off the snow. Christmassy music played from the shops displaying their wares touting them as the perfect gifts. The sounds of Christmas could be heard coming from phones and the passing cars. It was everywhere. Claire softly hummed a tune as her feet followed the crowd leading her to Rockefeller Center. When Claire lifted her head, her heart grew tender with childhood memories. She stood right in front of the huge Christmas tree, adorned with all its lights, the star on top causing Claire to get teary-eyed. She literally felt like a movie character standing here now. Glancing at rosy-cheeked, laughing people on the ice rink, she joined the queue.

“To hell with it.” She could make her own Christmas memories here, alone in NYC.

Claire had to admit she underestimated herself, thinking that skating is like riding a bike. But, she found that it most assuredly wasn't. She tried to keep her legs as steady as possible, trying to get used to gliding on the ice. Holding onto the rail, she wobbled around before she braced herself to finally go into the middle, and actually skate.

She surely thought that she looked like a penguin trying to find its friends, as she awkwardly moved around in the crowd. Occasionally, she squealed and even closed her eyes when particularly fast skaters passed her by. The moment Beauchamp thought she had got it, she pushed harder and began to glide on her skates. Before she knew it, she crashed into someone else. Clenching her fists and closing her eyes before her body hit the ice.

“Jesus. H. Roosevelt Christ!”

Falling down on her bottom, surgeon hissed at the burning feeling of her palms meeting the ice.

“Here, let me help ye.”

After no needed pause, Claire opened her eyes, glancing at the owner of the soft burr. The stranger whose hand was stretched out to help, smiled, a pair of blue eyes studying her intently.

“Thanks.” Giving a faint nod, Claire accepted the man’s hand. A swift pull and she was back on her feet, trapped between the arms of this bloody good looking man.

He was handsome from the depth of his cobalt blue eyes to the gentle tilt in his voice. A face with striking features Claire was sure she likely won’t forget. The strong jaw with a shadow of stubble and lips that took the soft shape of a smile. A scent of expensive cologne swirled around him. And the hair of the brightest red she’d ever seen.

“Yer didna hurt yerself, lass?” The man steadied her with both of his hands firmly on her waist.

Claire’s cheeks turned into a lovely shade of pink and she could feel the heat of his touch growing on her skin. Beauchamp dropped her gaze down her feet, mumbling.

“I’m fine. Though it takes some time for the pain to settle in and I can only hope I will be able to walk tomorrow.” She waved her hand in no particular direction but rather in frustration.

The stranger smiled as they awkwardly skated to the rail. Claire glanced at him through her lashes smiling back.

“So yer a Sassenach then.”

“Excuse me?” Claire furrowed her eyebrows, unable to stop looking at him. Damn him, he was attractive.

Her saviour let out a soft laugh.

“Yer English, no?” Besides his remark about her Englishness (Claire figured he was a Scot in mere seconds), his tone was kind. “It means an English person or an outlander.”

“How lovely.” Claire snorted examining her palms.

“I didna mean to offend ye.” He leaned to touch her shoulder gently. It took Claire longer then it should to speak up, the words burning against her dry throat.

“You didn’t.” The surgeon gave him a lopsided smile, stretching out her hand. “I’m Claire. Thanks for saving my arse.”

The Scot barked a laugh and took her hand in his. Claire wasn’t sure if she imagined it or not, but the way his skin felt upon hers gave her the rush of goosebumps all over it. Did he feel it too?

“I’m Jamie. And I’m more than glad to save such a lovely arse.”

What an eejit, he thought to himself. Who says that to a lass ten minutes after meeting her?

He already opened his mouth to give her a stream of apologies but she bit her lip and the bell of laughter warmed his heart. A Dhia, she was lovely.

Jamie had noticed her almost immediately when she entered the rink. That mass of curls that made her look like a fairy that stepped out the Scottish legends. He had to smile at the lass when she tried to skate (and very badly to his own good luck). Jamie watched her for a while when he could catch a glimpse of her absolutely horrid Christmas jumper and her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Her arse did not escape his attention either, perfectly round in those leggings.

As they made their way toward the lockers to gather their belongings, he learned she was from London. A surgeon visiting here for a medical conference. And no, she has never been to Edinburgh.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the window, Claire mentally admitted there were times when she had looked better when a man approached her. She could feel Jamie’s eyes on her back as she did her shoelaces, slowly she brought her head up, eyes locking with his.

The blue oceans met the whisky rivers. Claire wanted to say that she should go, it’s getting dark, and this day had got the better out of her. But instead, she took a step as if an invisible magnet was pulling her towards him. There was a silence that drowned them both into the abyss of unknown but much-needed connection.

“Jamie, I -” Her tongue, feeling like sandpaper, moved ever so slowly.

She felt hypnotized, barely registering that she started to walk the opposite way to the exit. But the next second, she found herself staring at their linked hands and his eyes travelling to her face.

“Wait, Claire.” Jamie wet his lips, the corners curl into an almost apologetic-like smile. “I ken it might be daft as we just met, but would ye do me the honor of joining me for dinner?"

She glanced at him, with eyes warm like a fine aged scotch.

“I would not mind a company.”

“I ken a perfect spot.” His hand on the small of her back, leading out of the crowd.

                                                   🎄  🎄  🎄

Claire was sure the air crackled with electricity or chemistry (or whatever they call it) as she and Jamie walked through the snowy streets of New York. The roads have been only partially plowed and cleaned. Beauchamp found her legs drowned up to the ankles in the fluffy mass. Jamie carried her over the asphalt where the snow began to turn into mushy puddles from the trampling of an endless stream of pedestrian traffic. Claire giggled as he carried her across each puddle, and felt the tips of her ears turn scarlet red.

The distance between them grew closer and closer until eventually, their shoulders were brushing against each other. She had learned that Jamie was born in the area of Inverness. He had a huge family, a sister and a brother which included many nieces and nephews as well. Claire smiled when she noticed his proud tone when he spoke about his father and the particular tenderness when he mentioned his older sister Jenny. Jamie had worked for the last three years in the US and at 34 years old he was a successful entrepreneur.

Claire mentioned the nomadic lifestyle she lived when she was a child. Her parents worked a lot and she had spent two years travelling with her uncle Lamb. She had a best friend, a Scottish lass named Geillis. Beauchamp liked to read and spend time in the garden with her mum. She sadly recounted that she had made the mistake of getting married only to find herself divorced after four months of the young marriage. Her ex-husband’s name was Frank. The memories made her uncomfortable and she did not want to remember more. Jamie did not ask further, only stating he never married.

“And yer telling me ye have no boyfriend?” Fraser’s hand curled over her delicate shoulder, encouraging Claire (to her own delight) to nestle closer against him. It was such a casual move that she had thought she knew Jamie for ages already. The warmth that was radiating from him rooted deep in her belly and was rising up and up, making her ache at the very core of her being.

“Seeing no one.” Claire shook her head, peeking at him through her lashes. “And how is that my fellow Brit is not with a lassie? ”

Jamie made a sound deep from his chest, something typically Scottish she’d gathered.

“I am with a lassie, and a verra bonnie one, I must say, am I not?” He smirked, though his voice was painted with seriousness.

“Flatterer.” Claire dropped her head, pretending her boots were much more interesting than anything else she’d seen. In truth, it was to hide a smile.

Later their hands merged together, fingers entwining. The strangeness and absolute familiarity of their palms fitting together was something neither of them could explain. Everything seemed to be suspended around them causing the time to become disjointed. Finally, they arrived at their destination.

“Highlands NYC?” Claire read out loud the name of the place Jamie had brought her. “Really? Out of all places in New York, you brought me to Highlander bar?”

The tips of Jamie's ears burned, the red matching his hair. Letting a shaky breath, his lips leaned over to her ear.

“Sassenach, ye should experience Scotland to its fullest.”

That moment Beauchamp went weak in her knees. The raspiness in his voice and… God damn, all of him almost forced her to drag Jamie to the nearest toilet and indeed enjoy one of Scotland's sons to his fullest. She did not.

They sat at the bar since all the tables were booked. The barstools migrated as close as possible for Jamie’s fingers to run freely at the expense on her back, sending goosebumps all over the skin. Her knees accidentally touched his. She laughed, loud and infectious at his stories. Throwing her head all the way back, exposing the pale skin on her neck, placing the blue of her veins in full view. The sight made his cock twitch. She laughed heartily, smacking her palm on his thigh when she found his joke particularly funny. Jamie's breath hitched becoming shallow and broken. She licked her lips. Claire slid her hand over the cold glass containing her cocktail. Her movements were deliberate, slow, down and up over the patterned glass mimicking... What did Geillis say about the unconscious signs?

Fraser shifted in his seat, more than ready to suggest they go somewhere where they find their way to each other. The hot air inside the pub and between them made both ache for each other.

But the food arrived distracting them from their lustful thought. They dined on Haggis dressed in whisky butter, and warm quinoa with crispy spiced chickpeas. They laughed and joked, speaking of this and that learning about each other. As the evening wore on, Claire found her heart beating its way out of her ribcage. She leaned in planting a soft kiss on Jamie's cheek fearful of having to whisper words of parting lying on the tip of her tongue. But she found she was not yet ready to say goodbye yet.

“Would ye like me to walk ye to yer hotel?” His voice was hoarse, scented with the whisky he had drunk. Claire leaned into him whispering:

“Yes.”

They hadn’t said goodbye in front of the hotel. Not in the foyer, either. Certainly not in the lift. As they stood in front of each other surrounded by glass cubicle she moved first.

Before he knew it Jamie’s mouth was claimed by hers. Chest heaving and gasping for air, both parted and stared at each other until the lift announced their destination with a soft Ding.

Claire’s hands shook, the room card almost slipping out of her sweaty palms. The second her feet entered the room, Jamie had pulled her closer by the waist. The lengths of the bodies pressing, Claire’s cheeks flaming hot. He breathed heavily as he left a trail of burning kisses down the column of her neck.

“Christ, I want ye.”

Cupping her arse Jamie’s lips traveled up, taking her bottom lip between his. She smiled against his mouth, hands pulling at his nape, closer and closer, until the kiss could actually hurt. She could feel the length of him, hard and ready through his jeans and it made her almost blind with animal-like want.

“Take this off,” Claire whispered pulling at the hem of his shirt. Aching for him became powerful to the point where she could not bother unbuttoning his shirt, Claire just yanked the soft material over his head.

She could swear she heard him growl when her sweater followed the same destination as Jamie’s shirt and landed into the fabric puddle on the floor. No bra in the way, Jamie did not hesitate to kiss his way down Claire’s cleavage, stopping for the thorough exploration of each breast. Her mouth dropped open in a silent plea when his lips captured the nipple. Almost burning with the heat that grew between her thighs and made her belly ache, Claire reached down, to unbuckle his jeans. Tongues danced, lips bitten surely to swell come the morning, teeth raking over the soft skin of the neck. Pulling the leggings with underwear to her ankles Jamie definitely left blueish trails where his fingers pressed. But it was a delicious feeling that bordered with painful pleasure. They stumbled upon the bed, falling into it, a suppressed laugh emerging between their mouths. Gently but firmly Jamie had pushed Claire flat on her back, letting his hand trace the invisible paths all the way from the high hills of her neck, down to the valley between her breasts, the plain expanses of her belly, all the way down to the hidden secrets between her thighs.

She moaned into his lips when his fingers had found her apex between her thighs. His bold caresses drew sighs, moans, and keening that he longed to hear. With the right pace and rhythm he drew those sounds out of her. Claire’s curls flew all over the white pillow. Air! She needed air and began to take deep lungfuls. Writhing as the sweet torture continued, Claire took large fistfuls of linens as an anchor. Arching into his hand, she had lost all the train of coherent thoughts.

“Jamie…” Gasping for air burning hot in her throat, she finally broke into the million atoms finding herself thousands of light-years later, breathing heavily, the sweat trickling down her nape.

“Ye’re so beautiful when ye become undone.” Jamie murmured, lips pressing a soft kiss at her brow.

Still shaking Claire reached between them finding a condom and gladly placed it on him. She’d found herself again in Jamie’s embrace. Still, she kissed him hungrily with the remnants of her own satisfaction yet to fade, asking for more. Jamie did not need much encouragement and with the slightest nod of her head, guided himself into her. The sudden, hot sensation of him made Claire throw her head back. Seized lungs could not produce any coherent sound. As Jamie’s hips moved fast into her, reaching that right spot, again and again, she could only cling to him for dear life. When Jamie’s own breathing became slow and shuddering, it wasn't clear where he began and she ended. The world expanded beyond itself. It grew into a million colourful stars shining brightly around them.

Well into the night, as Claire slept, he drew tender paths with his fingers mapping the lines and valleys of her body.

Later she awoke from her sweet slumber by the quiet rustle next to her. Jamie sat upright, hands roaming on the floor in the search of his underwear and jeans. For some reason, it bitterly stung. Claire slowly brought her hand up, gently touching his back.

“Please stay.”

                                                 🎄  🎄  🎄

Claire was sure it’s all had been a dream. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and in ten minutes her mother will call her downstairs to help start making dinner preparations. The brussels sprouts and mashed potatoes are not going to cook themselves. Her still sleepy mind started registering unusual noisy traffic outside, quite the opposite of the calm London neighbourhood where her parents lived. She turned to her side, eyes still tightly shut. Claire wasn’t sure now if she wanted to open her eyes and find herself home (where she so desperately wanted to be just twenty-four hours ago) or to wake up to the reality of finding one particular Scot next to her?

The mattress felt unfamiliar and too comfy. Her old bed in Beauchamps house surely did not feel that way. Moreover, the heat radiating from her left side was more likely from a person than the furnace. Claire’s eyes snapped open and she had to blink several times to get used to the bright sun, bouncing off the snowy scenery outside.

“Weel, hello to ye, sleeping beauty. I was afraid ye’d been cursed and would never wake.” Jamie rolled onto his belly, propping himself on the elbow. “Though it’s rather a nice sight to observe”

He ran his fingers down the line of Claire’s jaw before leaning in to kiss her.

“So you’re not a dream.” She smiled and pulled the blanket up higher than her waist, suddenly feeling shy. “What’s this?”

Her brows furrowed in confusion as Jamie fished his phone out, nodding to the screen.

“I don’t understand.”

“Ye’re going home, Sassenach.” He chuckled, feeling quite proud that he’d managed to find them both tickets to Edinburgh this evening. Jamie rather never did say out loud the price he paid but the look on Claire’s face was worth much more than that.

“Bloody hell!” She squealed, not believing her eyes. “How can I ever repay you?”

Jamie smiled when her hands wrapped around his neck.

"Love me some more, Sassenach.”

#Outlander #outlander fanfiction #oneshot #llholidayexchange #the lallybroch library #christmas smut #modern au #wee babies meet up in NYC #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #maviemesregles #LLholidayexchange #a holiday there is

[letithappeneverafter]

F**K - He’s moved to LA.

At the beginning of this decade Tame Impala were a beardy psychedelic rock band operating out of Perth, Australia, one of the more isolated cities in the world. Cut to this month and Kevin Parker, the frontman who it turns out was writing and recording the songs by himself all along, is unpacking his bags in his new home in the Hollywood Hills. His recent writing credits include songs for Rihanna, Kanye West and Lady Gaga. How did that happen?

“It’s the last world I would have expected to end up in but I’ve become more comfortable with it,” says the 32-year-old of this newfound glamour. Lady Gaga was the first person he wrote lyrics with collaboratively, on her 2016 single Perfect Illusion — a decent start. Rihanna’s Same Ol’ Mistakes, from her Anti album of the same year, was a straight lift of the music from his Tame Impala song New Person, Same Old Mistakes, with her singing instead of him. This month he even prompted a few news stories when there was some confusion over whether or not he had contributed to Kanye West’s surprise new album Ye.

“That was an absolute saga. It was uncannily poor timing,” he tells me as he attempts to explain what happened. It seems he was in the middle of giving an interview while West was premiering Ye with a live stream, and a friend texted him to tell him his song was playing. So he told the journalist. Later it turned out that his contribution had been left out of the song he thought he was on, Ghost Town, but he was credited on a different one, Violent Crimes. He found out at the same time as everyone else.

If that was hard to follow, it just seems to be how it works in the orbit of the biggest stars, whose songwriter credits can sometimes run into double figures. Parker says he had met West in person “for a chat” but sent over his musical ideas from afar. He still hasn’t met Rihanna.

“That’s the thing about being a rogue contributor: you’re not in the driver’s seat, so you don’t really know how things are gonna pan out. From working on it, to it actually emerging into the world, there’s a lot in between,” he says.

He sounds positive when describing the process with what seems to me like a particularly bleak metaphor. “It’s definitely therapeutic to let go of control and just be someone hitting tennis balls off a cliff.”

With his own music, it’s nothing like that. He has been recording songs completely alone since he was 14. When it came time to search for a record deal, he lied and said that Tame Impala were a band. “I think I was just shy. I thought if people saw a bunch of guys with long hair in the picture they’d enjoy it more. I didn’t think I had anything to offer as a solo artist.”

Some of that shyness has carried forward, despite the A-listers he mixes with these days. He’s a guarded interviewee, giving nothing away about who he moved to LA to work with or the progress of new Tame Impala music. He doubles back and corrects sentences as he talks, changing one word for a better one, which can make him hard to follow. And he requests that we speak using Skype, which is usually a reasonable way to make a visual connection with somebody when you’re in a different country, but he leaves his webcam switched off, so he can see me but I can’t see him.

In concert, however, where Tame Impala are a five-piece band, his success has forced him to become more of a showman. The group’s first experience of being festival headliners came last summer at New York’s Panorama weekender, and next month they’ll top the bill at west London’s one-day Citadel — their only UK show this year. Among a handful of gigs in 2018 they’re also first or second on the line-up at festivals as far afield as Pitchfork in Chicago, Treasure Island in California and Mad Cool in Madrid.  

“I used to be pretty withdrawn on stage a few years ago. I didn’t even stand in the middle. I was terrified to look anywhere other than my own feet,” he admits. “I suddenly realised that my career was going to go by and I was never going to have fun on stage. Since then I’ve embraced the part of me that loves attention.” Is he more of a star now? “Well… I wouldn’t use that word. It’s just having more of a presence, enjoying the energy of people in the audience who want to connect with you, because that’s why they go to the show instead of listening to the album.”

Listening to the album is pretty good too, though. Currents, the band’s third long-player, was released in 2015 and was the moment Tame Impala moved from making well-crafted, guitar-heavy psych rock to using more synths and embracing a wider range of styles. Yes I’m Changing is a dreamy trip-hop ballad. ’Cause I’m a Man is smooth soft rock. The Less I Know the Better, a silver-seller in the UK despite never entering the charts, is melodic, funky disco. The album went platinum in Parker’s homeland and hit the top five in the US and the UK, where Tame Impala beat U2 to take home the 2016 Brit Award for International Group.

“I’m actually a really poor judge of how successful Tame Impala is. I tend to underestimate it. But if it had happened any faster, it would have been out of control for me personally,” says Parker. “I think every time I’ve released an album it’s had this slow build. I think that’s the result of the kind of music it is. It gets under your skin.”

That unhurried pace looks set to continue. Currents went gold in the US only this month, almost three years after it came out. He says he won’t be performing any new songs at this summer’s gigs, not least because he hates people filming unreleased music on their phones. “I don’t want to say too much,” is all he’ll offer when pushed on his progress writing new music, but he does say that one of the reasons he has moved to LA is to do more producing for other people. “I’ve always wanted to do that. But Tame Impala is always the most important thing,” he says. “I like to think I can do both at the same time, but maybe I’m kidding myself.”

It’s a new chapter as Kevin Parker Aussie rock outsider becomes Kevin Parker bigshot LA songwriter and producer. Don’t dismiss the idea of him taking a leaf out of Kanye’s book and unveiling a new album with no warning. “I don’t like to play it up,” he says, with characteristic reticence, "but yeah, anything could happen.”

By DAVID SMYTH

#currents #tame impala #kevin parker

[gziets]

A Retrospective on the Mask

It’s hard to believe that it’s been ten years since Mask of the Betrayer… actually, at the time I’m writing this (in the final days of 2017), the ten-year anniversary has just about passed. After all this time, Mask remains the most fun project I’ve ever worked on, and I wouldn’t want to let the moment go by without spilling a few secrets about why the game worked pretty well (while others didn’t).

The story took a really long time to write.

I started work on the Mask narrative in late spring / early summer of 2006, while the NWN2 team was still in the “polish and bug-fixing” phase. The first few months were mostly brainstorming. I had freedom to do pretty much anything with the narrative, so it took me a while to settle on a hook that I really liked. For a while, the player was going to become a minor deity at the beginning of the game, and the expansion would focus on the travails of a new deity in the Forgotten Realms universe… but it quickly became clear that we didn’t have the budget to create all the new creatures, items, and game systems to support a deity-level campaign. So I kept thinking about other ways to make the expansion a unique experience, and I finally settled upon the spirit-eater curse – a magical affliction that would give the player some near-godlike abilities but could still take place (mostly) in the mortal world.

Even after that first major decision was made, I spent weeks reading through Obsidian’s library of Forgotten Realms sourcebooks, picking out elements that got me excited (the Wall of the Faithless, the lore of Rashemen and Thay), and then figuring out how to weave together a story that would incorporate them all. 

That was a long and intensive process, with tons of rewrites, tweaks, and iterations. For the whole second half of 2006, I probably didn’t have a spare moment when I wasn’t thinking about the story, going over and over it in my head, and trying to think of ways to make it better. Mask’s narrative wasn’t truly finished until December 2006, when the first zone of the game (Okku’s barrow) was already underway.

Don’t get me wrong - that grueling, painstaking process was totally worth it – the story wouldn’t have been as strong if I hadn’t put in all that time. In my experience, memorable stories take a lot of deep thought and iteration, and if you don’t have the time (or your schedule doesn’t allow for it), your story may be decent, but it likely won’t be great.

I’ve worked on some games where the story needs to be developed in a very short time – e.g., a week or less. It’s possible to craft a simple, competent narrative in that time, but the chances are good that you’ll still need to iterate a lot during development to make it stronger, and your game will probably not be remembered for its story.

I find that the time required for story and world development are often underestimated in the games industry, though studios that have made a lot of narrative-focused games are starting to schedule more realistically. (Still, the realities of game development, like publisher contracts, don’t often allow for sufficient story development time, which is part of the reason that a lot of game stories aren’t that great.)

On Mask, it also helped that we dedicated one writer (me) to craft the high-level story AND write all the main story dialogues. Sometimes division of responsibility is unavoidable, but if one person has the high-level vision for the game’s narrative, it’s much easier for that person to write all the story moments. They know exactly what needs to be communicated and what the player has already learned, so they can carefully control the flow of information to the player. If the main story is divided up between multiple writers, information flow can become a major problem… and a source of confusion for the player.

Mask had the benefit of low expectations… and no external interference.

When “NX1” (Neverwinter Expansion 1) was first described to me, it was pitched as a simple hack-and-slash adventure. Neverwinter Nights 2 was expected to do reasonably well, and the expansion would be a quick, relatively low-cost way to provide a followup product to fans. (Expansions never sell as well as the original product, so their budgets are proportionately reduced.)

I was not particularly excited about making a hack-and-slasher, so I pushed back on that particular point. To the credit of our lead, Kevin Saunders, he allowed me to pursue a much more expansive vision that required more work and longer hours. (Our schedule was not going to change, but if we could get more work done in the same amount of time, we could deliver something grander. Of course, not every lead would have trusted their team enough to give them a shot.)

Also, because Mask was expected to be a simple hack-and-slasher, the publisher paid little attention to what we were doing. Effectively, we operated under most people’s radar. This was great because we were able to pursue a vision that was shared among the team and didn’t suffer from interference from outside.

As in any industry, outside interference is a reality of game development. Sometimes it works out fine, as when higher-ups are heavily invested in a franchise, understand the core vision, and give well-informed feedback that improves the product. But the more a publisher or executive is separated from the project, the more likely they’ll give direction that doesn’t strengthen the game.

Case in point. Years ago, when I was working on Earth & Beyond (a science fiction MMO) for EA-Westwood, executives would occasionally fly in from California to play the latest build of the game. On one of these visits, the executives decided that they didn’t like the existing story and wanted the main narrative to be focused on a war instead. This meant that the lead writer (not me) had to rewrite everything she had done so far. The resulting story was fine… but the massive change invalidated many of the quests that the team had already built. So with months left on the clock before release, we had to create all new material to replace what was lost, which meant that we didn’t have enough time to finish the rest of the content we had originally planned. When Earth & Beyond shipped, one of the biggest complaints was that we didn’t have enough quests and other things to do, a problem that could be traced directly to that outside interference.

Mask never had a problem like that. Everybody on the team knew the vision, it never changed (apart from minor improvements along the way), and our schedule played out as expected.

We were able to focus on quests and narrative… not new game systems.

Designing the core systems of a game has one thing in common with designing a story - it can take a lot of time and iteration to get it right. But unlike story design, systems design requires multiple people – designers to write documents defining the gameplay and programmers to implement those designs. Then they play and test… and iterate… over and over again until the gameplay feels fun. It can be a long and unpredictable process, and if you start designing levels and quests before that process is finished, you might have to redesign those levels and quests when the gameplay changes. I’ve seen many games run into problems because their gameplay isn’t finalized before the design team starts building levels.

And if the game systems are new, level designers may not know how to build fun content with the new systems. That’s why expansions are sometimes more fun than the original game. Over the course of development, the team has figured out what works and what doesn’t, and they can apply all those lessons to the expansion.

Dungeon Siege 3 is a great example of this. DS3 diverted from the standard gameplay of the previous Dungeon Siege games, and it took us a while to figure out how to make fun levels using the new systems. By the time we developed the expansion, we’d figured out the winning formula - but by then, most people had written off the game.

Mask of the Betrayer, on the other hand, had no new systems. The core design team (Eric Fenstermaker, Jeff Husges, Tony Evans, and I) had all designed levels, combat encounters, and quests for NWN2, and we knew what worked and what didn’t. Three of us (Eric, Jeff, and I) had shared an office. We didn’t have to worry about learning new tools or figuring out each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Instead, we could focus all our energy on creating great quests and narrative, and that gave us a big advantage.

We let the themes arise naturally.

Some writers will disagree with me here, but I’ve found that it’s better to avoid thinking about themes and deeper meanings until after your main story is written. On Mask, I didn’t write a “themes” document at first. I let the themes arise naturally from the work… as they almost always do. Your subconscious will seed your work with recurring ideas and motifs, and as long as you’re attentive to them, you can identify and reinforce them later.

For example, the most obvious thematic element in Mask – the idea of “masks” – didn’t appear until after I’d written the story and decided to set the game in Rashemen. I started to notice that masks – in various forms – were cropping up in the narrative I’d written, so I reinforced that element (in names, like “The Veil,” in dialogue references, in items, etc.) as I fleshed everything out. The title of the game didn’t appear until close to the end of development, when Kevin asked me to propose some names for the expansion. Until then, it was just “NX1.”

In my experience, starting narrative development with a theme – rather than a fun or emotional story hook – can lead to a story that feels preachy or emotionally empty. That may not be the case for everyone, but I do think it’s a harder road to tread.

Happy New Year, and good gaming in 2018!

[andrewjostenzarchive]

Nothing Else Matters

This is my gift for @spookymiscreant for the @tfcdiscord winter exchange! I hope you like it! <3

also read here on a03

The night is quiet. Kevin can see his own breath in the air as he and Jean move along the high walls of the factory. His jacket barely manages to keep him warm, but he's fine with that. This job isn't supposed to last long.

He stops in front of the door while Jean vanishes into the wall. Sometimes Kevin envies him for his ability to just go through everything, but his powers aren't bad either. Soon he hears the click of the door as Jean opens it from the inside.

They make their way inside, following the long floors. The building barely has any safety regulations, as it's just a place to produce wool. What they don't know, though, is that they have something that is very precious. What exactly Riko didn't even tell them. Kevin wasn't happy with it, but what should he do?

Finally, they reach the empty room. They see the small box on the desk immediately.

This is far too easy, Jean's voice halls inside Kevin's head. Kevin hates to admit that he's right.

Maybe the humans working here don't know its value, but other mutants sure as hell do.

He makes maybe one step into the directions of the box as the ground suddenly is slippery and he falls to his knees. Is that – ice?

Kevin hears Jean gasp as a bright flame sizzles into his direction. He barely has the time to duck.

Kevin looks up and sees two blonde guys, extraordinarily short. Whereas one of the twins' – obviously they were twins, they are identical – hand is blue, the other's is burning red.

“Elementals,” Kevin hisses, jumping to his own feet, right as the fire one reaches for the box.

“Better luck next time,” he says, grinning smugly.

Kevin extends his arm, starting to control the twins' own shadows. Both of them look at him like he's crazy, though, as nothing happens at first.

Take care of them. I will try to get the box, Jean says in his head right as the shadows leap on the twins from behind, making them stumble. His own shadow follows him as he runs to them, creating a few illusions of himself to help him fight.

He nearly slips again, but this time he knows from the ice. He smiles wintry.

Again the other one shoots a fireball, luckily only hitting one of his illusions. It still hurts a bit, but he tries to hide his flinch.

Finally, Kevin reaches them, lunging to steal the box, but stumbling back when fire comes close to him again.

“Take care of the other arsehole. I can take him,” the fire twin says, right as Kevin hits him in the stomach. The blonde only laughs out while his brother turns around to face Jean, mien emotionless.

It seems Kevin underestimated his power. Though small, his punches are strong and make Kevin stumble.

What the hell is in that box? Jean asks in Kevin's head, but he has no time to answer that.

Right as his fingers finally curl around the box, there is a loud thunder that lets the whole room vibrate, shortly followed by a lightning nearly hitting both Kevin and one of the twins.

They both jump back, Kevin's hand finally having gained the stupid box. Not only does he nearly fall, no. He also stumbles in the ice twin, both of them falling over.

“Andrew!” he hears the one behind him shout, pushing Kevin down from him.

The fire twin – Andrew – leans against the wall, looking up with a frown, obviously not hurt.

Kevin follows his gaze to see a few hooded men. He doesn't see any faces. Nothing.

He stares at Jean who turned pale. The taberni.

Kevin looks at him in confusion, trying to remember what the name means as he feels someone tugging at the box. Instantly he tightens his grip, trying to push the ice twin away. While they both try to hold onto the box, though, they don't notice the hooded men coming closer until he hears Andrew say loudly: “Aaron, watch out!”, the same time Kevin hears Jean say They are right above you!

Right as both of them turn up to look, it's too late. There's another shockingly bright lightning and everything turns black.

Kevin groans while he attempts to open his eyes, his head pounding. After a few tries, he just pries them open, staring right into the dark. Is he blind? Panic rolls over him in a cold wave, but then his eyes adjust and he can make out at least some shapes. “What the hell?”

“I asked myself that too,” he hears a voice.

He flinches, trying to find out where it came from. “Who -”

“Tell me you are not really that dumb.”

Kevin opens his mouth to protest as he remembers. “Wait. You are the ice twin.”

“Ice twin? Really?”

“Shut up.”

Kevin carefully stands up. “Where the fuck are we?”

“How am I supposed to know, shadow boy?”

“Shadow boy?!”

“You started.”

Kevin huffs before taking a few steps, attempting to at least found a wall. Every room has a door, right?

He can feel Aaron's gaze, although he can't see him. “What?”

“Do you really think it's that simple?”

Seconds after Aaron said that, Kevin finds the door. Well, not a lucky thing. He feels a lightning travel through his whole body as he is thrown back, excruciating pain in every single limb.

“Fuck, I think I just saw your skeleton,” Aaron says.

Kevin just breathes heavily, not having the energy to flip him off.

Of course it wouldn't be that easy.

He carefully reaches for his stomach and flinches. It feels … like burned meat. Great.

“Fuck.”

“You hurt?”

Kevin tries to huff, but it hurts his sides. So he just breathes out a quiet “yes”.

He can hear Aaron coming closer to him, trying to find him in the dark. He nearly falls over Kevin, but catches himself in the last second.

Kevin gets tense as he feels Aaron's cold hands on his body. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Where is the wound?”

“Further down.” Kevin presses his lips together as Aaron's fingers lightly travel down his skin until they reach his stomach. His sharp inhale seems to help Aaron, and after a few seconds, the pain eases and he relaxes slightly.

“Healing?”

“Couldn't let you die before we get out of here.”

“Wow. Thanks,” Kevin says sarcastically, secretly being graceful that the wound is gone – for now.

He presses his hand against it and feels smooth skin, nothing else.

“I've never encountered a healing mutant.”

“Well, congrats, you have now” Aaron replies sarcastically, leaning back from Kevin.

Aaron's sarcasm is the smallest problem he has right now.

“So, the door is secured. Did you try to find something else?”

“No. Why? It's the taberni. This thing is foolproof.”

Kevin rolls his eyes. “Nothing is ever foolproof.”

He can feel Aaron's annoyed mien. “Well, good luck trying. I won't heal you another time.”

Kevin ignores him and keeps on searching. After an hour, he has to admit Aaron's right. So he just grits his teeth and leans back against the wall.

“So?”

“Shut up!” Kevin hisses back, sinking down to the ground. “They will come for me.”

“Who? That guy with you? Alone?”

Kevin bites his lip. “No. Riko. The ravens. They won't let me rot in here.”

“Wait, ravens? You work for them?” The disgust is audible in Aaron's voice.

“Well, who do you work for, then?”

“The foxes.”

Kevin's heart misses a beat. The foxes. His dad.

“They are not that good, though.”

He can hear Aaron huff. “Well, at least we are not killing our own.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“A team has no “I” in it, shadow boy.”

Kevin doesn't know what's that supposed to mean, so he just turns away. “As if you had any idea, ice twin.”

The next hours are quiet. Soon they figure out that no one will really come to see them. So they reluctantly begin to talk. Surprisingly, Aaron starts. And then it just goes on and on.

Aaron likes medicine. And the colour green. And spending time with his family, although he'd never admit it. He's only with the foxes because of his twin. Wymack is nice.

So Kevin participates in their game and gives away truths about himself.

That he likes history. That his favourite colour is red. That his best friend is Jean, not Riko. That he's with the Ravens since birth.

It's nothing too deep, but enough to figure each other out.

It's better than the lonely dark and cold silence. The only way of communication they have is each other.

It gets to them sitting next to each other, their thighs touching while they talk about the most random shit to pass the time.

Until one day, the door opens. It's unusual. They have to blink to even adjust to the light as a voice speaks.

“Oh, Kevin.”

The voice is so familiar and Kevin's blood freezes.

“Riko? You're here?” He's relieved, yet tense. Riko is unpredictable. But he's going to save him, right?

“Yes, of course. I had to get my box.”

Kevin, half standing, freezes at that. “The box?”

“Do you seriously think you and Jean would ever get it?” Riko laughs. “I had to take matters into my own hand.”

“So you betrayed us to make a deal with them?” Kevin asks, his voice angry.

“Well, Kev,” Riko smiles coldly, “at least I know I can count on them.”

“Where's Jean?”

“The taberni took care of him and that other mutant,” Riko says, considering his nails.

Kevin can hear Aaron get up next to him. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Riko's answer is a cold laugh.

Before Kevin can stop him, Aaron throws a huge icicle in Riko's direction. It immediately bursts midst the door frame, shattering into a thousand pieces.

Riko's smirk is cruel. “Cute. You two won't make it much longer. Have fun rotting!”

Kevin is shaking with anger, knowing that he can't do anything, that he is powerless. He hates it.

He feels Aaron move next to him, but holds him back this time. His grip is tight. “Don't. We can't. It's impossible to get out of here.”

Aaron grits his teeth. “What are we supposed to do then?”

“Wait. Taberni aren't known for mercy, Jean said once. They won't let us simply go by starving and dying of thirst. They will wait until we are weakened and then get us.”

“And then?” Aaron says.

“Then we fight back.”

Admittedly, it wasn't Kevin's best plan. He and Aaron tried to come up with strategies, but since no one really ever survived the taberni, it's hard to think of a way to kill them – or even hurt them so they could flee.

It is exhausting and they really feel themselves getting weaker. Aaron's head rests on Kevin's shoulder while latter rambles about historical facts, trying to keep them both conscious. Their hands are loosely intertwined. They squeeze it from time to time, reassuring each other that they are here and still awake.

So then two of them come and take them, they are practically helpless. They get torn apart and Kevin's hand feels cold. So this is it? This is how they are going to die?

Next thing he knows, his knees hit a cold floor and he has problems with keeping his balance. Automatically, his eyes scan the room, skipping over the hooded creatures until they lock with Aaron's. At least he's not alone. He nods at him, aching to hold his hand again. It seems like Aaron feels the same, as his fingers twitch while he nods back. Then Kevin closes his eyes.

Get down!

The voice is sudden in his head and he flinches, but listens to Jean's voice and throws himself onto the ground. Jean seems to have told Aaron too. As soon as both of them are down, chaos ensues.

All kind of powers fly through the room, hitting the wall and the taberni. Vaguely Kevin recognises the fire twin as someone helps him up to his feet.

“Jean,” Kevin says, his voice strained.

“Come on, we gotta get you out of here.”

“Not without Aaron.”

Jean sighs before pointing to Aaron, held up by his twin. “See? He's safe. And now we have to leave.”

People ran past them, and if Kevin was more conscious, he'd recognise the foxes. For now, he has to focus on walking and not stumbling.

Whatever plan Jean and Andrew had for them, it obviously didn't work.

Kevin feels himself getting thrown against a wall, a lightning missing him, but only barely.  

His head is pounding as he opens his eyes, warm blood trickling down his neck. Fuck.

He blinks a few times, the adrenaline not really helping much.

Where is Aaron?

“Aaron?”

He sees a bit of blonde flash in the other corner, but it could be who knows who.

Nevertheless, Kevin gets up, ignoring the black edges in his sight.

He's right. It is Aaron. He also looks pretty out of it, but his head perks up as he sees Kevin.

That's when it happens. Kevin notices taberni coming closer to them, one of them raising his hand. The lightning. It will kill him. Aaron told him that he could only heal others, but never himself.

“No,” Kevin breathes out, gathering all his energy to sprint the last few metres to shove Aaron aside.

This time, the lightning hits him directly, travelling through his body and back. The air smells of burnt flesh as Kevin falls to the ground, the only thing he feels is pain pain pain. His ears are ringing loudly, blocking out ever thought he could have.

The last thing he feels are cold, wet hands. Then everything goes dark.

Then he opens his eyes, it's bright. The ceiling is a blinding orange with white paws all over it. “What the hell?” he mumbles to himself, attempting to sit up. He inhales sharply as hurt spirals through his body.

Someone carefully puts their hands on his shoulders, pressing him down again. “Not good.”

He looks up, his frown turning into a smile as he recognises Aaron. “Did we make it?”

Aaron nods, scooting closer on the edge of the bed. “We did.”

Kevin breathes out relieved. Then he looks up at Aaron's face again. “Are you okay?”

Aaron raises his brows. “You were the one hit by the lightning, remember?” Although he sounds nonchalant, Kevin can hear the underlying worry in his tone.

Kevin gives him a crooked smile. “How could I forget? It hurt like a bitch.”

Aaron huffs before taking Kevin's hand. “That was so stupid of you.”

Kevin just shrugs, his thumb caressing Aaron's skin. “Better get used to it, ice twin.”

He grins as Aaron rolls his eyes. “If you ever do that again, I will kill you personally.”

“I would let you,” Kevin answers without hesitation.

Aaron blushes slightly, avoiding his gaze. “Idiot.”

They sit in silence for a while, fingers still linked. Kevin can feel the words he wants to say on the tip of his tongue, but he can't get them out. He feels like he's going to choke on them. He's angry at himself. They are just words.

So he sighs, which brings Aaron's attention back to him. Kevin uses his free hand to smooth out the frown on Aaron's forehead before putting his hand on his cheek.

Aaron's gaze is intense, his eyes seeming darker than ever before.

“Come here,” Kevin mumbles, quiet, afraid to break – whatever it is between them right now.

Kevin puts up his other hand, too, cradling Aaron's face completely as they lean their foreheads against each other.

'I'm glad I didn't lose you.'

They just breathe for a while, warm, shaky.

'I'm glad you are here.'

Slowly, painfully slowly, Kevin lifts his head, his lips brushing against Aaron's.

'I don't know where I'd be without you.'

And then they kiss. What starts out careful, like they are afraid to break each other, like it's just an illusion, gets more passionate, Kevin's hand in Aaron's hair, biting lips, suppressed moans into each other mouths. It's just them, alone, together.

Kevin still has his eyes closed as Aaron inches away a bit, both of them breathing heavily. Then he opens them, his look soft, warm.

Aaron's hair is a mess, his cheeks red, his lips kiss-swollen. Probably he doesn't look much different.

In this moment, he just doesn't care. About where they are, what Riko is doing with the box, what is in the box, what he's going to do if he finds out they are alive – nothing of it matters, right here, with Aaron so close to him.

So he just pulls him in again and lets the world just be.

#kevaaron #kevin day #aaron minyard #tfcdiscord #tfc #aftg #the foxhole court #all for the game #* #mine

[husid]

Uncle Huey’s 2019 Oscars Post!

A confession: I love the Oscars. 

A confession, extrapolated: I am an unabashed Oscars fanboy, who legitimately looks forward to the Academy Awards all year long. I love the opening montage where the host skewers self-righteous Hollywood stars, I love the cringeworthy banter of presenters pretending to have a non-scripted conversation (as if they were actual actors!), I love the montages reminding us why we should keep liking movies, I love seeing which recently deceased actors (it’s always the actors) cause people to break the “no-clapping-until-the-end” rule during the In Memoriam clip (Hollywood’s version of “you can only bring Valentine’s Day Cards to class if you give one to everybody”), I love the wildly reactionary vitriol thrown towards the Academy every time they make a decision about anything, I love the Academy reacting one-year too late to everything, I love the politics, I love the self-seriousness, I love the acceptance speeches in which you can tell the actor deeply resents his or her family, I love seeing the loser shots and trying to decide whether they’re legitimately happy for the winner (spoiler: they’re not), and I love seeing the same tired, rehashed Twitter jokes about how long the Oscars telecast is. 

Reading back through that paragraph, I realize how disingenuous my love for the Oscars sounds, but I do love the Oscars, if for no other reason than I really fucking love movies. And while I’m no critic, I do fancy myself a semi-educated film buff, and with that, as well as an uncredited extras role in The Flintstones In Viva Rock Vegas! that I ask that you indulge me in the first annual Hu’s the Boss Oscar Preview!

In the interest of full disclosure, this is where I tell you that I’ve only seen 11 of the movies nominated (Avengers: Infinity War, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, Black Panther, BlacKkKlansman, Bohemian Rhapsody, The Favourite, Isle of Dogs, Roma, Solo: A Star Wars Story, Spider-Man Into the Spider-Verse, A Star Is Born), but whether it’s the utter predictability of some films (Green Book), or familiarity with a director’s work (Vice), I feel reasonably confident in my admittedly underinformed predictions.

You might have heard that the Oscars will not have a host this year, for the first time since 1989, and we all remember how that went! (I was 2 years old, I definitely don’t remember how that went, but the internet does, and yikes, it wasn’t good. Side note: I’d sooner tell my own grandmother that her matzo ball soup was overseasoned than do anything horrible enough to warrant Julie Andrews calling me an embarrassment in an open letter).  How did we find ourselves in this predicament? Blame the Academy. Well, also the internet. Maybe Kevin Hart too. President Obama as well. Let me explain. 

While in office, Obama had the opportunity to sign an executive order mandating that Amy Poehler and Tina Fey host every major awards show, but failed to do so. Given President Trump’s current feelings towards S&L, it feels like that window has closed. The Oscars are generally hosted by a mainstream comedian, and this year was shaping up to be no different, with Kevin Hart signed on to host. But then the unthinkable happened. The internet internetted, and found that Hart had performed some homophobic material back in 2009 and 2010. The backlash got real loud, real quick, and the court of public opinion sentenced the Academy to 10 years without Kevin Hart as host, with the possibility of parole once we realize that every comic who started writing before 2010 has included something homophobic in one of their sets. So you can blame Kevin Hart, whose jokes were clearly offensive; you can blame the Academy for either not vetting their host, underestimating the research capabilities of internet denizens, underestimating the outrage of the general public (hard to imagine, given the public reception of most of the Academy’s decisions of late), or, depending on your viewpoint, bowing too easily to internet outrage; or you can blame the outraged, for not understanding the evolution of standup comedy, or for making a stand when one may not be warranted.

I’ll leave it to you to draw your own conclusions on who’s to blame for Hart not hosting, but I can tell you who’s to blame for there the absence of a host, period: Critics. Not since Billy Crystal hosted the Oscars for a 73rd consecutive time has any host be universally lauded. The host isn’t funny, the host is too mean, the host is too sophomoric, the host disappears for extended periods of time, etc. It’s been a thankless job for years now, and that was before a dissection of your extended comedy catalog became a prerequisite. Personally, I’d love to see the hosting job go to an up-and-coming comic and let them roast Hollywood for a bit. It would be a way to take the self-reverential mask off of Hollywood for a couple hours, and provide a massive opportunity for an up-and-comer. But ratings dictate that stars and stars alone must host, so I’m not holding my breath.

Ok. That sound you just heard is me jumping off my soap box. Back to movies.

“The field is wide open this year” is a great way to build up buzz for an awards show, but when it comes to Best Picture, it’s also a euphemism sugarcoating the fact that there were truly no great movies this year. Personally, I think nearly every contender has at least one seriously fatal flaw, and that, coupled with the rare lack of a huge late PR push for one movie above the others (a la The King’s Speech, The Artist, Argo, Birdman, etc.) mean that “wide-open field” isn’t just lip service, it’s true. Just not for the best reasons. Still, it makes for an exciting awards show, if you’re into that sort of thing, and probably means that the Academy won’t be on the hook for buying into one film’s hype and looking terrible for it down the line (Shakespeare In Love over Saving Private Ryan, The King’s Speech over The Social Network, Birdman over Boyhood, etc.). But these things aren’t always predictable, and maybe in ten years we’ll be talking about what an underappreciated movie Vice was in 2018.

Now on to the awards, where I’ll give my two cents on each nominee for Best Picture, then a brief thought on each subsequent category declaring my best guess for the actual winner and my personal favorite. In the interest of full disclosure, I’ve watched the Golden Globes and the SAG Awards, and usually pay a lot of attention to movie/Oscars buzz, but I’ve generally tried to avoid Oscar prediction articles for the sake of this post. Again, I don’t claim to be a film critic, but I do have lots of opinions on movies, so take everything with a grain of salt. To further highlight any conscious or subconscious biases I have,  I’ve put the films I have seen in bold in each set of nominees.

THE OSCAR GOES TO

Best Picture

Nominees:

Black Panther – A wildly entertaining and legitimately good movie, but it’s not even the best Marvel movie ever. This feels more like an acknowledgment from the Academy that it respects superhero movies, than a legitimate contender for best picture.

BlacKkKlansman – Given the wild true story the movie is based on, it probably didn’t even need Spike Lee’s direction to shine, and yet I left somewhat underwhelmed. Everything was solid, but very little really stood out, aside from costume design and a few warranted but ham-handed references to our current political climate.  Spike is one of the most provocative filmmakers of the last quarter-century, but with a story that I expected he’d be able to knock out of the park, I didn’t fell like I gained an interesting perspective or was shocked by anything; a rarity for one of his films. Maybe that’s more reflective of the times we live in, or maybe I just set unfair expectations for Spike, given the subject matter. Either way, despite enormous potential, this had all the trappings of a good-but-not-great movie.

Bohemian Rhapsody – Rami Malek’s performance and the final Live Aid scene alone catapult Bohemian Rhapsody into this year’s contenders. Unfortunately, that was all that was Oscar-worthy about this movie. The rest was a by-the-numbers music biopic that tried to pack way too much into 133 minutes. It’s no wonder this movie took so long to get made and so many writers/producers/directors/actors were involved and uninvolved at one point or another (Sacha Baron Cohen was originally slated to play Freddie Mercury), because there’s a lot to untangle between  the rise and “fall” of the band, Mercury’s sexual awakening, and his HIV diagnosis, all while the real-life remaining members of the band did their best to ensure that we got a PG-13 version of Queen history devoid of any real dirty laundry. The final result was a watered down, factually dubious mishmash that doesn’t go deep enough in any direction to have a true lasting impact. Those music scenes though, still make it one of the best music biopics ever filmed.

The Favourite – Of all the Best Picture nominees, the Favourite and Roma were easily the least digestable for mass market audiences. Period pieces aren’t for everyone, especially ones that have little in the way of plot, and take place exclusively on the grounds of an 18th century British palace. But the Favourite managed to be thoroughly entertaining thanks to top-notch set design, Oscar-worthy performances by Olivia Coleman, Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone, sexual intrigue and two hours of steady, if a bit slow, mischievousness. 

Green Book – I have not seen it. Obviously the reviews are positive, but no one has yet convinced me that this movie isn’t entirely formulaic. I haven’t seen this movie, but I’ve seen this movie, and I’m pretty sure it’s fine.

Roma – A beautiful movie about an underrepresented social class in an underrepresented era in an underrepresented country. It’s shot well and acted well, and the camerawork makes up for a meandering plotline. It probably is the class of this category, but I can’t help but think that it might be 15% worse if it wasn’t shot in black and white. That was clearly a conscious choice by writer and director Alfonso Cuaron, who, between Gravity and Children of Men, among others, has more than proven he knows how to make a film beautiful, regardless of subject matter. But the Artist won Best Picture for its two-part gimmick of being black and white and silent, and I’m not entirely sure that Roma’s colorless palette shouldn’t be considered gimmicky as well.

A Star Is Born – The most classic Best Picture fodder on this list, by leaps and bounds, and not just because previous versions of this movie have been nominated for Best Picture, among a host of other awards. But Hollywood loves a movie about the entertainment business, not to mention a story about underdogs and redemption. This was a really well done movie across the board, and while I thought the Grammys scene was a little over the top, I now realize that was an integral scene to the previous three versions of the movie, so its inclusion is a lot easier to justify here. Aside from the acting, which was exceptional across the board (Andrew Dice Clay!), I think the most impressive part about this movie was that it was a big-budget film about superstardom, yet managed to feel very intimate, and resisted using tired crutches of story narration/plot forwarding by way of TV/radio news reports or newspaper headlines – something Bohemian Rhapsody was unable to pull off.

Vice – I have not seen it, which is odd, because of every movie nominated, it’s probably the most up my proverbial alley. The initial mixed reviews were a part of my missing it, though I imagine my love for Adam Mckay’s masterful balance between humor and the depression of irresponsibly-wielded power in the Big Short and Succession (to say nothing of his comedy genius displayed in Anchorman, Talladega Nights, Step Brothers et al.) would make me a more likely candidate than most to appreciate Vice. Alas, that’s all I’m able to really opine on.

Will Be: If there wasn’t a strong anti-Netflix bias in the Academy, as has been reported, I would go with Roma, but I fear that the safest choice here is Green Book, and in the absence of anything truly groundbreaking, that’s going to be the pick.

Should Be: I’m on the fence between Roma and A Star is Born. To me, Roma’s lack of plot and failure to explore its main character in depth separate it from A Star is Born, which really has no obvious flaws.

Actor in a Leading Role

Christian Bale – Vice

Bradley Cooper – A Star Is Born

Willem Dafoe – At Eternity’s Gate

Rami Malek – Bohemian Rhapsody

Viggo Mortensen – Green Book

Will Be: Having only seen two of these movies, it’s hard for me to make a real educated guess, but it’s also hard to imagine that Rami Malek won’t be rewarded for flawlessly playing one of the most eccentric entertainers in music history. All I know for sure is that Willem Dafoe will not be winning.

Should Be: Malek. Malek’s apparent real-life persona is shy and understated –essentially the exact opposite of Freddie Mercury’s – making his transformative performance that much more jaw-dropping.

Actress in a Leading Role

Yalitza Aparicio – Roma

Glenn Close – The Wife

Olivia Colman – The Favourite

Lady Gaga – A Star Is Born

Melissa McCarthy – Can You Ever Forgive Me?

Will Be: Glenn Close. When an actress from a movie you’ve never heard of keeps racking up awards, it’s a pretty safe bet the Academy will follow suit.

Should Be: I’m going to stick with Close, given how much consensus this pick seems to have. Of the movies I saw, I think Colman and Gaga are both very worthy. I can’t quite figure out Aparicio’s nomination. Given that she had never acted before, she was incredible, but the lack of dialogue and depth that the script afforded her puts her performance in stark comparison to the other women on this list. Close is the biggest lock in any of the acting categories.

Actress in a Supporting Role

Amy Adams – Vice

Marina de Tavira – Roma

Regina King – If Beale Street Could Talk

Emma Stone – The Favourite

Rachel Weisz – The Favourite

Will Be: Amy Adams. This is a really tight race that could legitimately go to anyone. With five very deserving nominees, the biggest differentiator is the fact that Adams has been nominated for an Oscar five times before, with no hardware to show for it. In situations like this, the Academy has shown it’s not above the unofficial lifetime achievement award.

Should Be: I’m a huge fan of every actress in this category, though my two favorites – Adams and King – are nominated for movies I haven’t seen. Given that, my pick would be Emma Stone, who portrayed innocence, quirkiness, resourcefulness, wittiness, ruthlessness and helplessness in one winkingly dry performance. Weisz was just as game from an acting perspective, but the script gave Stone a lot more to work with, making her performance more memorable.

Actor in a Supporting Role

Mahershala Ali – Green Book

Adam Driver – BlacKkKlansman

Sam Elliott – A Star Is Born

Richard E. Grant – Can You Ever Forgive Me?

Sam Rockwell – Vice

Will Be: Mahershala Ali. The Academy loves him, and with good reason. In a tight race, the fact that Rockwell deservedly won this award last year for Three Billboards probably disqualifies him. Elliott was exceptional in A Star Is Born, but had a considerably smaller role than the other actors on this list. I thought Driver was good, but not Oscars-good, and obviously I haven’t seen Grant’s performance, but the buzz is very positive, despite being in a movie that not a ton of people saw. There’s definitely a cynical side of me that thinks Ali is the most justifiable selection among all the minority Oscar acting nominees, and its hard to imagine there aren’t at least some voters who are still trying to erase the scars of #oscarssowhite (to say nothing of minority representation over the course of film history) by essentially casting a vote for inclusion. But ultimately he may just be the best choice in a tight category.

Should Be: Ali. I’ll be rooting hard for Elliott, both because he tends to be my favorite part of any movie or show he’s in, and because it’s nice to see the older guys finally win one. Since Ali and Rockwell already have a statue, there may be some sentimentality votes going his way, and his career in mainstream American cinema spans much longer than fellow elder statesman Grant. Again, I haven’t seen Green Book, but I know Ali is as game as any of the actors in this category, and had the biggest role of anyone in the category. That’s good enough for me.

Directing

Spike Lee – BlacKkKlansman 

Pawel Pawlikowski – The Cold War

Yorgos Lanthimos – The Favourite

Alfonso Cuaron  - Roma

Adam McKay – Vice

Will Be: Alfonso Cuaron. There’s talk of this going to Spike as a “my bad” award from the Academy for never having even nominated him for best director (not giving him even a nomination for Do the Right Thing borders on criminal). But he did receive an honorary Oscar from the Academy in 2015, and that, coupled with BlacKkKlansman being just a good movie make me feel like this isn’t Spike’s year. Vice is a very hype-typical movie that isn’t getting much hype, and Cold War is the only movie on this list not nominated for Best Picture. That leaves Roma and the Favourite, and the Academy has proven it loves Cuaron’s work, not to mention Roma is the most unique, visually stunning film on this list, which are usually two of the major criteria for this award.

Should Be: Cuaron, for all of the reasons listed above, but I wouldn’t be upset with Lanthimos taking it.

Adapted Screenplay

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

BlacKkKlansman

Can You Ever Forgive Me?

If Beale Street Could Talk

A Star Is Born

Will Be: I really have no clue on this one, but I’m confident that The Ballad of Buster Scruggs and If Beale Street Could Talk are the first two out. The remaining three are all unlikely to win in the other major categories so voters might simply choose their favorite of those three to ensure they win something. If that’s the case, my guess is the most popular among them is A Star Is Born.

Should Be: I won’t rehash my thoughts on BlacKkKlansman again, and I haven’t seen Beale Street or CYEFM, but when considering adapted screenplays, I like to vote based on degree of difficulty jumping from the source material to the screen. That’s why A Star Is Born falls short for me, given that it was adapted from three previous versions of ultimately the same movie. To me, that makes the writer’s job easier, not harder. I definitely have a Coen Brothers bias, so my vote goes to The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, which managed to take a collection of short stories written over the course of 25 years and transform them into a series of visually stunning, dialogue-rich (aside from Tom Waits’ story) vignettes that somehow formed a (great) movie.

Original Screenplay

The Favourite

First Reformed

Green Book

Roma

Vice

Will Be: First Reformed is getting buzz for this award, and it might be a way for voters to give some gold to a movie than many felt was snubbed in other categories. My take is that if voters loved the screenplay so much, it would have been nominated for those other categories. So the most likely pick here is Roma, a movie about an upper-middle-class family in Mexico City with a relative dearth of dialogue or plot lines that somehow ends up being as captivating as any other movie this year.

Should Be: I thought The Big Short’s screenplay was incredible, so if Vice is comparable in both style and quality, I’m sure I’d love it. But critics are saying otherwise, so I’m going to go with The Favourite, whose screenplay managed to make a thoroughly beguiling and darkly humorous film out of what could easily have been just another dry period piece.

Foreign Language Film

Capernaum – Lebanon

Cold War – Poland

Never Look Away – Germany

Roma – Mexico

Shoplifters – Japan

Will Be: We can pretend Cold War has a chance, but the award has all but been handed to Roma already. If it’s the only movie on this list that managed to be worthy of a Best Picture nominee, logic would dictate that it’s the only movie worthy of winning Best Foreign Language Film

Should Be: Having only seen Roma, I don’t have any great insights to add here, but I’m still confident in saying it deserves this one.

Best Animated Feature

Incredibles 2

Isle of Dogs

Mirai

Ralph Breaks the Internet

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

Will Be: Despite winning two of the last three years, Pixar doesn’t have the stranglehold over this category that it once did. In most years, Incredibles 2, Isle of Dogs or Ralph Breaks the Internet would have a great shot to win, but this is simply Spider-Man’s year.

Should Be: I liked Isle of Dogs, but Spider-Man was probably my favorite movie of the year, and quite possibly the best. Sorry Pixar.

Cinematography

Cold War

The Favourite

Never Look Away

Roma

A Star Is Born

Will Be: Roma. Sweeping cityscapes, countryscapes and beachscapes (are those things?) + historical time period + black and white = Oscar.

Should Be: Roma. Sweeping cityscapes, countryscapes and beachscapes (are those things?) + historical time period + black and white = Oscar.

QUICK HITTERS

Production Design

Black Panther

The Favourite

First Man

Mary Poppins Returns

Roma

Will Be: Roma

Should Be: The Favourite

Costume Design

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

Black Panther

The Favourite

Mary Poppins Returns

Mary Queen of Scots

Will Be: The Favourite

Should Be: The Favourite

Death, taxes, and a Victorian(ish)-era drama winning Best Costume Design are the only certainties in life.

Visual Effects

Avengers: Infinity War

Christopher Robin

First Man

Ready Player One

Solo: A Star Wars Story

Will Be: Avengers: Infinity War

Should Be: Ready Player One

This pick is based entirely on the trailer and my 1980s and 90s nostalgia.

Original Song

All the Stars – Black Panther

I’ll Fight – RBG

The Place Where Lost Things Go – Mary Poppins Returns

Shallow – A Star Is Born

When a Cowboy Trades His Spurs for Wings – The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

Will Be: Shallow

Should Be: Shallow

Along with Roma winning for best Foreign Film, this is easily the biggest lock of the night. It’s also a really good song.

I don’t really have anything of substance to add for the rest of the categories, and if you’re somehow still reading, you’re probably not anxiously awaiting my take on all the documentary shorts I haven’t watched.

Happy Oscars Night, everyone! Looking forward to seeing you again next year, when we’ll get to predict the winners of the Academy’s new categories:

Worst Performance By A Best Actor/Actress Loser At Time of Award Announcement

Most Terrifying-Looking Live-Action Genie

Best Performance By People Trying to Bring Matt Damon Home

The Wes Anderson Lifetime Achievement Award for Contributions to Whimsy

Worst Acting Performance by a Musician Who Now Thinks He/She Can Act Because of Lady Gaga

Worst Singing Performance by an Actor Who Now Thinks He/She Can Sing Because of Bradley Cooper

Best Use of “That Guy” (Andrew Dice Clay!)

[mancitynoise]

It would be entirely wrong to underplay Pep Guardiola’s role in Manchester City’s consecutive title wins, just as it would be remiss to underestimate Manuel Pellegrini’s managerial acumen that saw the Blues lift the Premier League trophy in 2013/14 scoring 102 goals along the way.

Yet running parallel to these coaching feats is an infrastructure that leaves nothing to chance, and is designed to elevate and keep the club within the world’s elite. There is the £200m academy of course, that is as impressive as it gets, and the numerous clubs around the globe that are affiliated with the City Football Group. But most pertinent to what we’re discussing is the long-term planning, dedication to detail, and strict adherence to an ethos that all comes together to make up Manchester City’s transfer strategy.

The principal players behind the strategy are City’s Director of Football Txiki Begiristain and Pep Guardiola though there is naturally significant input from others too, namely key members of the coaching staff. What helps matters hugely is that Begiristain and Guardiola have a close relationship, accrued from many years working in alliance at Barcelona and now City.

Together the pair identify the right targets, not only concentrating on ability but via a holistic approach that factors in a footballer’s character and crucially how they will fit into the framework of the squad. The most important criteria of all is whether the player in question will help evolve what can sometimes grandiosely be called the ‘project’.

Watch Manchester City Live Streams With StreamFootball.tv Below

Evolve. It’s impossible to avoid that word when talking about City’s transfer policy. In 2017 City paid £43m for Bernardo Silva not solely for his obvious qualities but because David Silva was the other side of thirty. This summer 23-year-old Rodri was acquired with the aim of recruiting a successor to 34-year-old Fernandinho. Next summer Sergio Aguero turns 32 and do not be remotely surprised if the rumours linking Kylian Mbappe to the Etihad start up again in earnest as such a move would fall plum within their remit. A superstar is phased out. A younger version is brought in.

Begiristain said in September of last year: “You don’t need to change 11 players every year. You need to change two or three.”

On its own this is a strategy that hardly amounts to rocket science. Yet that would discount the attention to detail that so often results in a player enjoying his peak years at City and furthermore – for what it’s worth, because City are not a selling club – increasing their value.

From Aguero joining at the age of 23 to Raheem Sterling and Kevin De Bruyne being procured aged 20 and 24 respectively – with the latter signing roundly and foolishly mocked for the supposedly hefty fee – there is a mightily impressive track record of bringing in young stars who go on to be enormously impactful at the club.

De Bruyne remarked recently: “The way that we did transfers the last years adds up.

“You see a lot of young talent coming in willing to play our style.”

Admittedly, along the way there has been the occasional misstep. The signing of Claudio Bravo springs to mind while the £32m purchase of Eliaquim Mangala equates to an uncharacteristic brain-fart. By and large though it is a sensible and militaristic strategy that has reaped dividends.

So much so in fact that other clubs now look to City as the way forward becoming as they have the standard bearers in recruitment and squad evolvement. Last month Gary Neville urged Manchester United to ‘build a foundation as Manchester City did and have done’.

Okay, let’s leave it there, enough with the praise. The point has been made and with that point being made a question now needs legitimately asking in all sincerity. Just what in the holy mother and father of all that is sane were City thinking of in the summer summer by letting Vincent Kompany go without replacing him?

Because there was no evolvement there: only a weakening. There was no long-term planning. No adherence to an ethos and absolutely zero holistic approach. Instead – entirely unnecessarily – there was only make do. Instead there was only a teary farewell to a club captain and instrumental leader followed by a quick head-count that totted up to just three centre-backs remaining. ‘Let’s roll the dice,’ appears to be the reasoning, or at least what passed for reasoning. ‘We’ll go into a long and demanding season that could very conceivably add up to seventy-plus games with only three conventional centre-backs and if need be we’ll convert Fernandinho’.

The carefully structured and laboriously considered remit that has helped furnish City with an abundance of silverware in recent times never rolled any dices. It covered every eventuality. It ensured there were two players competing for each position. It signed a long-term successor to Kompany two years ago when the Belgian was the other side of thirty and persistent injuries began to take a toll.

Except they didn’t. Not in this instance. Which meant that when Kompany informed Guardiola of his decision to leave the club ahead of last May’s FA Cup Final (City had hoped their inspirational captain would stay for a further year before joining the coaching staff) they faced a summer transfer window where the priorities were to sign the long-coveted Rodri and a centre-back of reputable standing.

Harry Maguire was sought, as has been widely reported but then, as has also been widely reported, City pulled out of the race for his signature at an early juncture due to being put off by the exorbitant asking price. “We cannot afford it,” Pep said of their decision to look elsewhere and if the benefit of the doubt can be given to that rather stretched explanation that’s fine because it’s likely there are a plethora of other top class centre-backs available at a cheaper price.

Except City didn’t look elsewhere. Instead they splurged their £60m on a right-back.

A long-term injury to Aymeric Laporte  – City’s only remaining Rolls Royce of a defender – has laid their risk bare. It leaves the reigning champions with only an injury-prone John Stones and a player in Nicolas Otamendi who inspires very little confidence.

Fernandinho meanwhile has indeed dropped back but has been tasked with learning the ropes amidst sheer chaos.

Consequently points have been dropped to Norwich and Wolves – on both occasions directly due to defensive horror-shows – and, by virtue of being eight points behind a Liverpool team who lost only once last season, City’s aspirations to win a third title on the bounce are all but extinguished.

Can it be assumed that Manchester City now wholly regret their nonchalance in not replacing a key figure, more so a key figure in a key role? Unquestionably they do.

As for why they made such a nonchalant decision in the first place? Your guess is as good as mine.

#FootballFanCast #News

[mrcoreymonroe]

High Sierra Fly-In 2018

High Sierra Fly-In 2018. Photo by Jim Raeder

If there’s a place in this country where flying is still fun, where people become inspired by airplanes, and where aviation friendships are made, it’s at the High Sierra Fly-In. Not far from the Black Rock Desert, the High Sierra Fly-In is a larger-than-life flying event where pilots can be found emerging from tents at 6 a.m. on a Saturday morning in October, wiping playa dust from their eyes, starting up bush planes with big tires, and flying formation around the backcountry. By nightfall, the same pilots enjoy food and drink next to a roaring bonfire, light off fireworks, and tell epic “so there I was” stories.

It’s a fly-in with a Burning Man-Meets-Oshkosh vibe, big enough for sponsorships and big-money raffle prizes yet small enough to maintain the ambiance of an intimate family reunion. It’s where aviation dreams are not just made but challenged, where people are encouraged to get their hands dirty, to learn—to really learn—how to fly and how to build airplanes. It’s a place where pilots truly bond over their flying machines while taking in the best that nature has to offer.

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Just north of Reno near the California border is a dry lakebed that Kevin Quinn and friends call Dead Cow. It’s here, on more than 55 acres of private property owned by Quinn and a few of his buddies, where every October hundreds of pilots and their families flock for an ultimate aviation adventure. Dead Cow, appropriately named after Quinn came across a dead cow on one of his early landings there, is about 5 miles long at its longest edge and about 3 miles wide. Once a year, this rural, deserted, dusty, dried-up lake bed becomes home to hundreds of pilots from all over the world who want to experience the backcountry, camp, take a dip in local hot springs, eat and drink around a campfire, and watch STOL Drag races.

While the popularity of the High Sierra Fly-In may not have been a total accident, it’s probably safe to say that organizer Quinn didn’t know how quickly it would become so popular. Approaching its 10th year, the High Sierra Fly-In is bigger than ever—no doubt due to a popular social media presence—and it seems to outpace Quinn’s expectations each year. The fly-in was born back in 2010 with just a small group of pilots, and under the leadership of Quinn and help from numerous volunteers each year, it has grown into a major event with sponsorships, a live band, catered food, thousands of dollars in raffle prizes, and a 20-minute fireworks show that rivals one at a professional sporting event.

Part of the adventure surrounding the High Sierra Fly-In is just getting there. Airplane owners fly and land right on the lakebed, a hard-packed surface of powdery alkali dust. But finding Dead Cow from the air is not a simple task, even if you have seen it first on Google Earth. From even 1,000 feet AGL, the airplanes, tents and RVs blend in well with the surrounding sagebrush, and the size of the lakebed is easy to underestimate, presenting the opportunity for a pilot to mistake Dead Cow for just another empty lakebed. It’s not until you overfly and really search that you see the tiny yellow cubs, the white tents, the numerous RVs or the orange cones in place to indicate the runway. Once identified, orienting oneself for the traffic pattern is the next challenge. To date, there are no published arrivals other than east and a west pattern entry, but with numerous aircraft in the pattern, a number of takeoffs and landings throughout the day, and STOL Drag races happening near the ground, there are a lot of airplanes buzzing around. The organizers have not skimped on safety. There are published procedures, a published traffic pattern, different frequencies for arrivals from different directions, and a volunteer on the ground to assist pilots by radio. Arrive in the middle of the STOL Drag races, and you may have to fly around in the pattern a few times. No problem; watching the STOL Drag competition from pattern altitude allows for some cool photo ops. As with Sun ‘n’ Fun or Oshkosh, a second pilot looking for traffic is almost necessary these days.

The High Sierra Fly-In enjoyed its highest attendance ever, and there's clearly plenty of room to grow at Dead Cow Lake. But managing a larger event brings with it added pressures and demands and can require tough decisions. Photo by Jim Raeder

Getting to Dead Cow is perhaps even more challenging for those who don’t have an airplane to fly, but that doesn’t stop people from driving. Out of about 1,500 people and 450 airplanes in attendance this year, an estimated 500 or more probably traveled to Dead Cow by car, which requires a bit of tactical driving and pre-planning. Cell service is sporadic, and the deeply rutted, washboard-heavy roads are not on any map. To find Dead Cow, one must adhere to printed directions and mileage data with that prehistoric pencil and paper stuff. Even then, driving often proves to be a riskier affair than flying.

While the High Sierra Fly-In is well known for its talented bush pilots and big-tire airplanes, no flying machine is discriminated against at Dead Cow. From Kitfoxes and Cubs to Mooneys and Mallards—if it flies, it’s welcome at the High Sierra Fly-In. The lake bed is large enough and hard enough for aircraft of almost any size and type, granted the pilot doesn’t mind having to wash it upon returning to pavement. Playa dust gets everywhere (everywhere), and it can corrode metals and wreak havoc on aircraft and fabrics if it’s not cleaned off quickly.

The airplane of interest this year was Mike Patey’s “Draco,” a turbine-powered Wilga that can cruise at 185 miles per hour at 28,000 feet yet still land on the playa in about 120 feet. But the other airplanes did not disappoint. A quick look around the playa, and it’s a pilot’s dream: Dozens of Cubs, Cessna 170s and 180s, Maules, Huskies and Cherokees. This year there was the Sherpa, Gary Ward’s green and purple MX2, a French Broussard (one of only 363 total built between 1954 and 1959), a Grumman Mallard and a Pilatus PC-12. Paramotors, drones and RC aircraft buzzed around the south end of the field. And a hot air balloon was fired up for good measure during the nightly bonfire, because…well, why not?

Mike Patey's remarkable Wilga conversion, Draco. Photo by Jim Raeder

Walking around the desert with a variety of aircraft to eyeball is entertaining enough for most, but the real highlight of the event is seeing these airplanes in action during the STOL Drag race. For someone who has never experienced one, the idea of an airplane drag race can be confusing. What does STOL have to do with it? Do they race on the ground? Is it dangerous?

STOL stands for Short Takeoff and Landing, and it’s a characteristic of most bush planes. A STOL aircraft is designed or modified specifically for performance takeoffs and landings, often in and out of air strips where terrain and elevation make clearing obstacles difficult. Modifications like stall strips, larger ailerons or flaps, or modified suspension can make a stock aircraft into a bush plane. Many of the aircraft racing in the STOL Drag race are highly modified, but there is no requirement for an aircraft to be a designated STOL aircraft to participate. Past racers have included typical bush planes like Super Cubs, Kitfoxes, Wilgas, Cessna 180s and Huskies, but it’s not uncommon to see a J-3 Cub, a Cessna 172, a Cirrus or a Mooney have a go at it. It’s all in good fun, and the High Sierra racers keep it lighthearted.

The rules are simple: From the starting line, two pilots fly their aircraft side by side down a ¾-mile long straightaway, come to a complete stop on heading, turn around and fly back. The first pilot to bring their airplane to a stop wins. Certain penalties are imposed for safety reasons and to keep the race standardized. Racers are disqualified for turning in the wrong direction, and there are time penalties for not completing the stop at the halfway point or for touching down before the line, for example.

This year, Draco was the aircraft to beat, and Trent Palmer came close in his Kitfox that he was working on right up until his late arrival. In the end, Mark Patey’s Draco outraced Palmer for the Gold. Crowd favorite Steve Henry, winner of the STOL competition at Oshkosh this year, also gave Draco some competition in his Highlander. And longtime participant Toby Ashley placed third with his Carbon Cub.

The dramatic silhouettes of taildraggers in the playa dust. But all in all, the weather at High Sierra Fly-In 2018 was really good. Photo by Jim Raeder

Nothing in aviation comes without risk, but you’d be hard pressed to find a STOL pilot who scoffs at safety. Quinn says safety is all he thinks about every day, especially as the event grows. “In my real world, I teach flying, run the largest Heli-ski operation in the country, and promote safety on a daily basis. It’s what I do. Risk management is my entire life, both professionally and personally. I take it very serious. This year, we had a real air boss—an approach controller for Vancouver, B.C. We also had crash fire rescue on scene with REMSA out of Reno. That type of stuff is what is important to me.”

On an individual basis, pilots attending the High Sierra Fly-In take personal responsibility for safety to a professional level. A lot of formation flying occurs, and it requires a high level of awareness and skill. Thorough briefings between formation pilots are always done beforehand. And as for the STOL Drag racing, once you see these pilots fly, you quickly realize that while the aircraft are flown on the edge of their performance envelopes more often than not, they are flown by some very skilled and experienced pilots.

Some of these aircraft are highly modified by the pilots themselves, but don’t let that fool you into thinking this is amateur hour. These pilots are not just pilots—they are often experienced aeronautical engineers, machinists or A&P mechanics in addition to having logged many, many hours in the back country. Inexperience is checked at the door, and safety just becomes the expectation. Above all else, pilots are encouraged to fly at their own pace and skill level.

Beyond the airplanes and STOL Drag racing, those who attend appreciate the fly-in for its laid-back, friendly people and the camaraderie.

A group of aviators spending time together after an amazing day of flying. HSF is all about community. Photo by Deon Mitton

“Pilots come from all walks of life. Some are U-2 pilots, F-18 drivers, ag pilots, 777 pilots and just good old-fashioned private pilots. Yet all are equal in enthusiasm in the desert,” Quinn says. It’s not uncommon for instant friendships to form. More than once, an attendee has, upon discovering this fly-in, remarked, “These are my people!”

Quinn, along with a few of his buddies from early on who have formed a group called the Flying Cowboys, have an enthusiasm for aviation that you don’t find everywhere. By sharing their enthusiasm each year at the fly-in, via YouTube channels and through social media campaigns like #HeavierOut (a call to clean up the backcountry), they’re definitely doing their part to promote aviation and responsible flying. As a result, the aviation “bug” is spreading like wildfire among fans.

The organizers and volunteers have created a place where everyone is truly welcome, where kids and families and dogs roam and airplanes constantly buzz overhead. It’s a place where mechanics bring tools to help pilots when something breaks. A place where aviation gets back to its barnstorming roots, where pilots offer rides to other aspiring pilots just to see them smile. It’s a place where, after joining up in formation over the desert, people exchange phone numbers and take photos of new friends in front of airplanes. It’s a place where pilots can listen and get advice from other pilots, where they can talk about how they build their airplanes, which modifications work, what mistakes they made. It’s a place where if you don’t have a warm jacket, a thousand of your new friends will offer you theirs—and they’ll tell you to keep it.

What’s next for the fly-in? I asked Quinn what’s on the horizon for next year. “The future looks bright. We now have pilots out there building specific aircraft for STOL Drag to beat Draco. It’s just awesome. Aviation is being re-invented, and that’s the type of thing we are all about. The STOL Drags have brought creativity back to general aviation, and it’s so darned exciting to see where it will go.”

Quinn says they’re brainstorming ways to make the STOL competition better, and they’re always looking for ways to improve the fly-in itself. Lastly, watch for an upcoming Flying Cowboys Scholarship funded by Quinn.

The people are what make the High Sierra Fly-In great, and for an aviation industry that struggles to recruit pilots, mechanics, technicians and aviation entrepreneurs, it’s an enormous breath of fresh air. It might seem ironic that a place called “Dead Cow” is home to that fresh take on aviation’s future, but once you’ve been, it makes perfect sense.

Click on the button below to see more photos from High Sierra Fly-In 2018

The post High Sierra Fly-In 2018 appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

from Plane & Pilot Magazine http://bit.ly/2BaTbVE

[mrlylerouse]

Top 10 Mistakes to Avoid When Building a Team

Kevin Kauffman and Fred Weaver are the co-founders of one of the nation’s most successful real estate teams and companies, Group 46:10 Network. Training-focused, fast-paced, technology-driven, 46:10 has been recognized as one of the top 250 real estate teams in the nation, year after year. While the average real estate agent sells around 6 houses per year, this team has a group of specialists who sell more than one house a day, ranking them in the top 1% of all real estate agents in the United States! But…It hasn’t always been easy.

After their team imploded in 2012, Fred and Kevin were left with a crippled business and no idea how to rebuild. They did it anyway, and learned a lot along the way. At BoomTown Unite, they took the stage to present their findings, and we’ve detailed their top “don’ts” when building a team for success:

  Underestimate How Long Things Take & How Much They Will Cost

Kevin and Fred created what they called the “perfect plan.” They had talked to others in the industry about how they had created success, given themselves clear timelines and goals, and were ready to start seeing results.

Unfortunately they had fooled themselves into thinking things would move quickly and easily towards success. They may have indeed created the “perfect plan,” but didn’t anticipate roadblocks.  And yes, there were many roadblocks and lots of failure along the way.

Goals are critical to real estate success, but setbacks are inevitable. When you hit a wall (and alas, you will), bounce back and be agile.

Continue writing down the small tasks you need to complete each day to get you to your weekly, monthly and bigger goal.

Know the plan if something gets in the way, and keep it simple.

Take advantage of technology to help you time block. Use quiet space to knock out your task as soon as possible.

If you see yourself start to slip, evaluate what is causing this, and create a trigger that will keep you on track. This could be as simple as a phone reminder or a calendar invite.

Determine if it’s time to delegate.

Have a $hitty Training Program

As new employees were hired, Fred and Kevin were faced with the exhausting task of training them and getting them ramped up with their mission, systems, expectations, what-have-you. They took things case-by-case, and didn’t have a set training curriculum.

This meant reproducing lessons and onboarding processes over and over again. Haphazard knowledge-sharing, and very little consistency. 

They knew it wasn’t working, so they hired a consultant, and as Fred explained “paid someone a lot of money to tell us we needed a training program.”

It can take months for agents to close a deal once they’ve joined your team. With more intensive and strategic training from the get-go, you can hopefully shorten this time frame. From mastering the systems that you use to aligning with your business goals – a formal training curriculum will lay the foundation for your team’s future performance.

As Kevin has learned, “new hires need coaching and accountability on top of any training curriculum.  When you say “I wanna scale” whatever that looks like to you, you have to have a consistent onboarding and training program.

The current program at 46:10 is an intensive onboarding curriculum that leverages learning automation software to help new hires stay on track and complete all the necessary training. It doesn’t stop there though.

  Think You Are Great at Hiring and Can Spot Talent Easily

We all are susceptible to thinking we know how to scout out top talent and nail the hiring process. This is a relationship business after all!

The resume looks great, the candidate whizzed through the industry and job-specific questions, so you’re confident they can perform XYZ. Good, right?

Not necessarily. After many many hires (and attempted hires) Kevin knows otherwise.

“It doesn’t work this way. If it does work. You’re lucky, and it won’t continue. It’s something you have to spend time getting good at. It can’t be just ‘going with your gut’ You HAVE to have a formal vetting process.”

When addressing that blurry zone of character and culture fit, how do you ensure this potential new hire will share your passions, gel with the team, drive everyone forward?

At BoomTown we conduct a series of  “culture interviews.” A casual conversation-centered sit down with some folks in various positions in the company. They get to know the candidate on a more personal level, ask some questions to seek out their values, and share their thoughts on the “fit” for each person.

Implement a vetting process that will get more team members involved, more casual conversations, open discussions of values, and don’t hurry!

Make Little-to-No Investment in Systems, Tech, and People

When you hire the right talent, you must fuel them with the right compensation and empower them with the right technology partner.

“You have to invest and build on a great system, people, etc. Don’t cut corners and nickel and dime here. You have to see it as an investment and not a cost.”

This means compensating your team members appropriately. It means not relying on a piecemeal system of sticky notes and whiteboards, but investing in tools and technology and a system to handle it all. Otherwise, your people and your processes won’t deliver the growth you want.

Forget to Track the Metrics that Drive your Business

“Appointments set. Contract signed. I’m constantly shocked that people have no idea how their team is performing! It’s crucial to track and understand it a a higher level.”

When you have an intelligent CRM that work with your website, you can eliminate the guesswork on tracking every metric in your business and your team’s performance from a single centralized reporting function. This means you can see what’s working and when it’s time to change course, and you can make better decisions, faster.

Try to be Perfect and Avoid Making Mistakes

In 2014 Fred and Kevin traveled to visit Ben Kinney’s office and see how they were operating their business. They found themselves walking through the office picking apart some of the systems and processes. They noted how they would be doing things differently. 

It then occurred to us that in fact they were not doing things “wrong.” Their production was 2x what ours was. Ben and his team were OK with taking risks. They were OK with making bigger mistakes because they could lead to bigger and bolder things.

Sometimes your idea or your plan won’t work, but it’s all about testing, trying and failing forward. If you work to constantly maintain the status quo, you’ll never see the growth you want.

Have a Calendar that Doesn’t Promote Success

Not reaching goals?

Not getting your key tasks accomplished?

Not moving to the next level?

According to Fred and Kevin, your calendar is probably crap.

“Show me on your calendar where your priorities are.You have to commit to the calendar and commit to your business. Don’t take it too far- too tightly scheduled, but pick your biggest priorities and TIME BLOCK. Create a calendar that promotes success no matter what your role is. Ask to see your team members’ calendars. Some only work on what’s most urgent in the moment.”

When people decide exactly when, where, and how they will fulfill their goals, they create a link in their brains between a certain situation or cue and the behavior that should follow. “If or when X happens, then I will do Y” This helps to establish powerful triggers for action. You have to strategically structure your time to reach your real estate goals.

Place too Much Emphasis on Early Success or New Things

New hires that are going to be rockstars.

New shiny toys that are going to change your business.

A new mantra that will surely take your team to the next level.

A new idea that saw success right out of the gates.

Celebrate wins, for sure, but Fred and Kevin warn that you definitely want to stay away from putting labels on things too quickly, focusing too much attention on something that only deserves a trial period, or abandoning tried and true strategies for something another team has used to succeed. 

Spend Time Getting Ready to Get Ready

Too often we’re trying to be too perfect with what we’re rolling out.

This is how you start talking yourself out of growing. You become too afraid of failure. What I can tell you is that you’re lying to yourself if you think there’s a state of mind that exists where you’re perfectly happy with everything the way it is.

The key to success is a mindset shift. Tell yourself that even though it may not be perfect, it’s a start, and you’re heading in the right direction.

Accept Minor Setbacks as a Complete Failure

It can feel completely defeating at times in real estate. There’s no solution to this, but it’s critical to remember it’s never final. Just look at how far 46:10 came from what looked like total business devastation.

Don’t give up. Shut up and fix it. Learn from you mistake. It’s easy to recognize when team members let something minor completely derail them, but team leads and owners do this too. And, as Gary Keller says, don’t ever make a big decision in a valley!

There are plenty of pitfalls to avoid when you’re building your team, and there are just as many ways to ensure your success. Powering your company with the right technology and systems is one of them. The right technology partner, like the right hire, makes you better for working with them. They share your values and will move you forward. They offer you a smart business strategy, and they back it with a proven track record, and the heart and passion to grow your business.

      The post Top 10 Mistakes to Avoid When Building a Team appeared first on BoomTown!.

from BoomTown! https://ift.tt/2vonUyl

[mrdonaldclark86]

Top 10 Mistakes to Avoid When Building a Team

Kevin Kauffman and Fred Weaver are the co-founders of one of the nation’s most successful real estate teams and companies, Group 46:10 Network. Training-focused, fast-paced, technology-driven, 46:10 has been recognized as one of the top 250 real estate teams in the nation, year after year. While the average real estate agent sells around 6 houses per year, this team has a group of specialists who sell more than one house a day, ranking them in the top 1% of all real estate agents in the United States! But…It hasn’t always been easy.

After their team imploded in 2012, Fred and Kevin were left with a crippled business and no idea how to rebuild. They did it anyway, and learned a lot along the way. At BoomTown Unite, they took the stage to present their findings, and we’ve detailed their top “don’ts” when building a team for success:

  Underestimate How Long Things Take & How Much They Will Cost

Kevin and Fred created what they called the “perfect plan.” They had talked to others in the industry about how they had created success, given themselves clear timelines and goals, and were ready to start seeing results.

Unfortunately they had fooled themselves into thinking things would move quickly and easily towards success. They may have indeed created the “perfect plan,” but didn’t anticipate roadblocks.  And yes, there were many roadblocks and lots of failure along the way.

Goals are critical to real estate success, but setbacks are inevitable. When you hit a wall (and alas, you will), bounce back and be agile.

Continue writing down the small tasks you need to complete each day to get you to your weekly, monthly and bigger goal.

Know the plan if something gets in the way, and keep it simple.

Take advantage of technology to help you time block. Use quiet space to knock out your task as soon as possible.

If you see yourself start to slip, evaluate what is causing this, and create a trigger that will keep you on track. This could be as simple as a phone reminder or a calendar invite.

Determine if it’s time to delegate.

Have a $hitty Training Program

As new employees were hired, Fred and Kevin were faced with the exhausting task of training them and getting them ramped up with their mission, systems, expectations, what-have-you. They took things case-by-case, and didn’t have a set training curriculum.

This meant reproducing lessons and onboarding processes over and over again. Haphazard knowledge-sharing, and very little consistency. 

They knew it wasn’t working, so they hired a consultant, and as Fred explained “paid someone a lot of money to tell us we needed a training program.”

It can take months for agents to close a deal once they’ve joined your team. With more intensive and strategic training from the get-go, you can hopefully shorten this time frame. From mastering the systems that you use to aligning with your business goals – a formal training curriculum will lay the foundation for your team’s future performance.

As Kevin has learned, “new hires need coaching and accountability on top of any training curriculum.  When you say “I wanna scale” whatever that looks like to you, you have to have a consistent onboarding and training program.

The current program at 46:10 is an intensive onboarding curriculum that leverages learning automation software to help new hires stay on track and complete all the necessary training. It doesn’t stop there though.

  Think You Are Great at Hiring and Can Spot Talent Easily

We all are susceptible to thinking we know how to scout out top talent and nail the hiring process. This is a relationship business after all!

The resume looks great, the candidate whizzed through the industry and job-specific questions, so you’re confident they can perform XYZ. Good, right?

Not necessarily. After many many hires (and attempted hires) Kevin knows otherwise.

“It doesn’t work this way. If it does work. You’re lucky, and it won’t continue. It’s something you have to spend time getting good at. It can’t be just ‘going with your gut’ You HAVE to have a formal vetting process.”

When addressing that blurry zone of character and culture fit, how do you ensure this potential new hire will share your passions, gel with the team, drive everyone forward?

At BoomTown we conduct a series of  “culture interviews.” A casual conversation-centered sit down with some folks in various positions in the company. They get to know the candidate on a more personal level, ask some questions to seek out their values, and share their thoughts on the “fit” for each person.

Implement a vetting process that will get more team members involved, more casual conversations, open discussions of values, and don’t hurry!

Make Little-to-No Investment in Systems, Tech, and People

When you hire the right talent, you must fuel them with the right compensation and empower them with the right technology partner.

“You have to invest and build on a great system, people, etc. Don’t cut corners and nickel and dime here. You have to see it as an investment and not a cost.”

This means compensating your team members appropriately. It means not relying on a piecemeal system of sticky notes and whiteboards, but investing in tools and technology and a system to handle it all. Otherwise, your people and your processes won’t deliver the growth you want.

Forget to Track the Metrics that Drive your Business

“Appointments set. Contract signed. I’m constantly shocked that people have no idea how their team is performing! It’s crucial to track and understand it a a higher level.”

When you have an intelligent CRM that work with your website, you can eliminate the guesswork on tracking every metric in your business and your team’s performance from a single centralized reporting function. This means you can see what’s working and when it’s time to change course, and you can make better decisions, faster.

Try to be Perfect and Avoid Making Mistakes

In 2014 Fred and Kevin traveled to visit Ben Kinney’s office and see how they were operating their business. They found themselves walking through the office picking apart some of the systems and processes. They noted how they would be doing things differently. 

It then occurred to us that in fact they were not doing things “wrong.” Their production was 2x what ours was. Ben and his team were OK with taking risks. They were OK with making bigger mistakes because they could lead to bigger and bolder things.

Sometimes your idea or your plan won’t work, but it’s all about testing, trying and failing forward. If you work to constantly maintain the status quo, you’ll never see the growth you want.

Have a Calendar that Doesn’t Promote Success

Not reaching goals?

Not getting your key tasks accomplished?

Not moving to the next level?

According to Fred and Kevin, your calendar is probably crap.

“Show me on your calendar where your priorities are.You have to commit to the calendar and commit to your business. Don’t take it too far- too tightly scheduled, but pick your biggest priorities and TIME BLOCK. Create a calendar that promotes success no matter what your role is. Ask to see your team members’ calendars. Some only work on what’s most urgent in the moment.”

When people decide exactly when, where, and how they will fulfill their goals, they create a link in their brains between a certain situation or cue and the behavior that should follow. “If or when X happens, then I will do Y” This helps to establish powerful triggers for action. You have to strategically structure your time to reach your real estate goals.

Place too Much Emphasis on Early Success or New Things

New hires that are going to be rockstars.

New shiny toys that are going to change your business.

A new mantra that will surely take your team to the next level.

A new idea that saw success right out of the gates.

Celebrate wins, for sure, but Fred and Kevin warn that you definitely want to stay away from putting labels on things too quickly, focusing too much attention on something that only deserves a trial period, or abandoning tried and true strategies for something another team has used to succeed. 

Spend Time Getting Ready to Get Ready

Too often we’re trying to be too perfect with what we’re rolling out.

This is how you start talking yourself out of growing. You become too afraid of failure. What I can tell you is that you’re lying to yourself if you think there’s a state of mind that exists where you’re perfectly happy with everything the way it is.

The key to success is a mindset shift. Tell yourself that even though it may not be perfect, it’s a start, and you’re heading in the right direction.

Accept Minor Setbacks as a Complete Failure

It can feel completely defeating at times in real estate. There’s no solution to this, but it’s critical to remember it’s never final. Just look at how far 46:10 came from what looked like total business devastation.

Don’t give up. Shut up and fix it. Learn from you mistake. It’s easy to recognize when team members let something minor completely derail them, but team leads and owners do this too. And, as Gary Keller says, don’t ever make a big decision in a valley!

There are plenty of pitfalls to avoid when you’re building your team, and there are just as many ways to ensure your success. Powering your company with the right technology and systems is one of them. The right technology partner, like the right hire, makes you better for working with them. They share your values and will move you forward. They offer you a smart business strategy, and they back it with a proven track record, and the heart and passion to grow your business.

      The post Top 10 Mistakes to Avoid When Building a Team appeared first on BoomTown!.

from BoomTown! https://ift.tt/2vonUyl

[douchebagbrainwaves]

OK, I'LL TELL YOU YOU ABOUT FILTER

VCs ask that you shouldn't answer: Who else are you talking to? For I see a man must either resolve to put out nothing new or become a slave, and there was no good way to do it well, then the most successful ones. The Model T didn't have all the features previous cars did. Whatever you make, you will inevitably tend to put them out of business; they feel obliged by various state laws to include boilerplate about why their spam is not a problem. Subject line and doesn't have a probability for Subject free! The spammers are businessmen. For example, about 95% of current spam includes the url of a site they want you to visit. I can usually catch them. False positives yielded by statistical filters turn out to be an email from a founder that helped me understand something important: why it's safe for startup founders to be nice people. Content-based spam filtering becomes a serious obstacle, the spammers will actually stop sending it. It was not till we ourselves raised money that I understood why. Just ask anyone who uses them.

The reason is that between your ability to delude yourself and the wildly unstable nature of the system you're dealing with, things probably either already are or could easily become much worse than they seem. This works better for some startups than others. But consulting is far from free money. Raising money is the second hardest part of starting a startup.1 The curious thing is, this elixir is freely available to any other company. And don't feel bad if you haven't succeeded yet.2 We constantly have to make a living, and it's hard to predict, till you try, how long it will take you through everything you need to do.3 The remaining 5% want you to call a phone number, reply by email or to a US mail address, or in a few cases to buy a certain stock. For millennia that was the canonical example of a job someone had to do it for free, and yet we can profit by helping them, because with our help they could make money.4

And since a successful startup on behaving like a nonprofit to people who don't have money? It's that startups will underestimate the difficulty of raising money destroy your morale, it will rot your brain.5 That idea is not exactly novel.6 I was about 9 or 10, my father told me I could be whatever I wanted when I grew up in the noise, statistically. One possibility is that this custom reflects the way investors like to collude when they can help a startup, and I'll be rich. This is an area where there's great room for improvement. Sometimes jumping from one sort of work I'd prefer? Y Combinator don't generally have much money, and work on what you want to stop getting spam. And yet in the mid twentieth century servants practically disappeared in rich countries, and these tend to be exactly the ones you'd want to take the two-job route: to work at something for a while at least, if they are the actual registrar for it. Prestige is just fossilized inspiration. The custom of a startup needing a fixed amount you need to make it prestigious. So unless you're fairly sure what you want to do when they're 12, and just glide along as if they got the answer to some math question before the other kids.

But liking the idea of the corporate ladder was still very much alive. Because they're good guys and they're trying to produce research, and only things that are new count as research. And since a successful startup on behaving like a nonprofit to people who don't have money?7 You need some kind of job. Another project I heard about this work I was a kid I was firmly in the camp of bad. If your eight year old son decides to climb a tall tree, or your daughter gets pregnant, you'll have terrible problems with procrastination. The domed cities and flying cars we expected have failed to materialize. VCs don't expect you to answer the first question.

It just made me spend several minutes telling you how great they are. They're problems! In fact, what makes the preceding paragraph true is that most readers won't believe it—at least to the extent of acting on it. Maybe the only answer is a central list of domains advertised in spams. Tip: avoid any field whose practitioners say this. You can filter those based just on the content because the headers are innocent and they're careful about the words they use. There may be room for tuning here, but as the corpus grows such tuning will happen automatically anyway. I understood why.8 When new mail arrives, it is exciting to them. Grad school is the other end of the spectrum from a coding job at a big company.

A lot of people: that you could get smarter programmers to work on what you want to help them. And that is dangerous for so many reasons. The techniques for building integrated circuits spread rapidly to other countries. What made this clear to me was having an idea I didn't want to start a startup now, because the economy is so bad is making the same mistake as the people who thought during the Bubble all I have to do is remove the marble that isn't part of it. In fact, it's just as well to make the headers look innocent, but my motives are purely selfish.9 01 tcl 0.10 The most effective approach seems to be an accident. The Bayesian approach assigns an actual probability. If new ideas arise like doodles, this would explain why you have to try to get into a good college, from which one would be drafted into some organization and then rise to positions of gradually increasing responsibility. I didn't want to start a startup. A Plan for Spam filter wouldn't have caught it. It was from someone in Egypt and written in all uppercase.

Most people have characteristic ways of doodling. That tends to produce deadlocks. A company that needed to build a factory or hire 50 people obviously needed to raise a large round and risk losing the investors you already have enough funding, that reduces to: close them now or write them off. Use the data to weight your strategy. And since a successful startup out of curing an unfashionable but deadly disease like malaria? I was talking about how investors are reluctant to put money into startups in bad markets, even though that's the time they reach an age to think about. Imagine if people in 1700 saw their lives the way we'd see them. A url that led to a redirect would of course be especially suspicious.

It describes the work I've done to improve the performance of their algorithm, let alone of Bayesian spam filtering in general. But I don't think the bank manager really did. Acquirers too, while we're at it. They may have felt they were forced to do this startup with or without them. When I heard about after the Slashdot article was Bill Yerazunis' CRM114. The response rate for spam-of-the-future must be low, or everyone would be doing it and it will take some effort to make that look neutral. I've been able to achieve filtering rates that approach CRM114's. 9999 if they occur between two digits. It becomes: let's try making a web-based spreadsheet? Be independent. Linus and his students at Liege were among the more tenacious critics.

Notes

Part of the Daddy Model and reality is the most common recipe but not the bawdy plays acted over on the parental dole for life in general we've done ok at fundraising is so hard on the critical path that they only even consider great people to endure hardships, but had a juicy bug to find out why investors who turned them down because investors don't like. This was certainly true in fields that have little do with the melon seed model is more important than the actual lawsuits rarely happen.

VCs seem to have been the losing side in debates about software design.

Bankers continued to dress in jeans and a few months later. Abstract-sounding language. 17.

So instead of hiring them.

Users dislike their new operating system so much better to read this essay will say this is to create a silicon valley out of fashion in 100 years.

Patrick Collison wrote At some point, there was a kid, this is also a second factor: startup founders are in set theory, or magazines. An hour old is not whether it's good, but that's what you're doing.

I hadn't had much success in doing something that was killed partly by its overdone launch. Digg is Slashdot with voting instead of blacklist.

Most employee agreements say that intelligence doesn't matter in startups is very hard to predict precisely what would happen to their situation. People and The Old Way.

If a bunch of adults had been with us if the president faced unscripted questions by giving a press conference. It does at least should make the fund by succeeding spectacularly.

That's why startups always pay equity rather than trying to upgrade an existing investor, lest that set an impossibly high target when raising additional money. To talk to, so presumably will the rate of improvement is more efficient: the source of the tube. But it's a net win to include things in shows that they were regarded as 'just' even after the first abstract painters were trained to paint from life using the same people the shareholders instead of blacklist.

Thanks to Robert Morris, Dan Siroker, Kevin Hale, Geoff Ralston, Paul Buchheit, Reid Hoffman, and Adora Cheung for the lulz.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #blacklist #money #things #target #years #doodles #laws #reality #software #elixir #VCs #round #spams #cars #field #approach #students #registrar #kid #investor #factory #silicon #people

[emblem-333]

MJ vs Sir Charles & The Glide

Settling on my cushy chair on a hot summer day, the sun shining brilliantly in the clear blue sky I thought there isn’t a better time to stay indoors. Flipping on “Hardwood Classics” on ESPN Classic I did just that. Game 6 of the 1997 NBA Finals was on, Sir Charles and Clyde “The Glide” Drexler going up against their nemesis Michael Jeffery Jordan. MJ beat both when separate, Drexler shrank from the stage; Barkley rose to the occasion only to be smacked down in six-games when all signs pointed towards an epic Game 7 on the horizon before John Paxson’s left of center three-pointer hit nothing but net. Ending the best opponent Jordan ever faced since the “Bad Boy” Pistons. Charles and Clyde when separate Jordan ate them alive. Together: maybe they could beat him.

The 1996-97 Rockets did what the Lakers of 1969 did: took the most simplest approach to how to go about beating one team. How do you neutralize Dennis Rodman? Why just trade for the “Round Mound of Rebound” of course. Slot him next to the third greatest center of all-time and suddenly the Bulls are relying on Luc Longly more than anybody would want. The 1996-7 Rockets were the classic case of a team not giving a fuck about their future, maxing out all their assets for one-year for their franchise player before he moved on to another phase of his career. Olajuwon and Drexler were both 34, Barkley was 33, Mario Ellie was 33, backup center Kevin Willis was 34, backup wing Eddie Johnson was 37. Unlike the Jordan’s teammates - mostly referring to Pippin and Kukoc - neither of the players named had much in the take for future seasons. They did not have the demonic devotion to conditioning that Jordan did.

For Charles and Clyde their original situations fell apart. Hamstrung by crappy ownership Barkley kicked and screamed till the infamous twenty-five cents on the dollar deal that sent him to Phoenix happened. The Blazers, for all their brilliance on offense, missed their window once Jordan came of age after 1991. Phil Jackson affirmed the Blazers tendency to “self-destruct” late in games prior to the start of the ‘92 Finals. And low and behold in a do-or-die Game 6 in Chicago up fifteen heading into the fourth the Bulls outscored the Blazers by a margin of 33-14. Thus the last nail was put in the Drexler-Kersey-Porter era Blazers coffin. Never again to contend for a title until 1999 with a different cast all together. Ironically the same issues of unnecessary turnovers, poor decision-making among other cancerous mistakes cost them a chance at the NBA Title against the Phil Jackson coached Los Angeles Lakers; star small forward Scottie Pippen was in the same chase for a ring situation Barkley-Drexler-Olajuwon were a few years only with arguably a better supporting cast and a undeniably worse coach in Mike Dunleavey. Even more ironically, Pippen was supposed to PREVENT another meltdown.

It took the star-studded Rockets seven-games to end the Supersonics reign as Western Conference champions, and another seven to push back the ever so valiant Stockton & Malone Jazz, edging the duo out on a Barkley-led 7-0 run in the last minute-twelve seconds of the game by a score of 88-91. By the skin of their teeth the AARP Houston Rockets were back in the NBA Finals against the opponent they wanted all along. To silence all the doubters who devalued Olajuwon’s two championships in '94-'95 because Jordan wasn’t waiting in the wings. The last hurrah of late-80s, early-90s basketball to begin in June of 1997.

Never before had Jordan had so much on the line in an NBA Finals, gone against such a loaded team that forced his squad to rely on the likes of Steve Kerr and Luc Longly. Jordan-Pippen-Rodman were enough to win 141 games over the last two seasons, set a season record for victories in a season and breeze through two playoff runs seemingly without breaking a sweat. All of the NBA were ants compared to the Chicago Bulls, like the Celtics made the league feel in the days of Bill Russell. Every season beginning with a “why even bother” feeling, only proven true by season’s end. In 1968 the Lakers were sick of losing to the same guy over and over, they finally pulled the trigger to become the second team to get Chamberlin on a ten cents on the dollar trade for him. Thinking if Elgin and Jerry weren’t enough to beat Russell, perhaps his greatest foe could push them over the top?

Well, that didn’t happen. Despite Jerry West’s ballin’ for 37.9 points, off 49% shooting, and 7.4 assists in the greatest series of his storied career, Russell knew Wilt like the back of his hand. Even with the rehabilitation Wilt went under in 1967 in Philadelphia, utilizing his passing skills converting himself into an assist-whore, since earlier Wilt only cared about points and rebounds. He sprained his angle in Game 7, came out for a little while. The Lakers went on a little run and when Wilt asked coach Butch van Breda Kolff stubbornly replied “we’re doing better without you,” and his posturing cost them the title and his job. Can’t also underestimate the psychological edge Boston held over LA couldn't be matched to any one-sided rivalry in sports at the time.

Houston’s core battled their inner demons of past failures and the ghost of Michael Jordan’s success. His Airness subsumed all of what Charles, Clyde and Hakeem accomplished in their long careers. All that mattered in that time in basketball was the Bulls. The allure of the bright red and losing yourself in the dark as the night sky 23. When the time for talk ended and the tip-off proceeded as planned a wave washed over all those in Chicago, in Houston, those in the arena, on the floor and even the announcers. A cathartic resolution was to be brought in the coming weeks. Eight All-Stars in the NBA Finals, shattering all expectations when it didn’t seem possible.

Stealing Game 1 on the road behind Olajuwon and his 31 points, twenty rebounds and three blocks and emasculating Rodman for thirty-six minutes. Jordan and Pippen roared back for fifty-five points and sixteen rebounds combined in a 102-91 thrashing. More of the same followed in a game 3, ensuring the series wouldn’t end in the Lone Star State. Ellie and Penn State rookie Maloney hit nine 3s, the point guard posting fifteen assists, Barkley grabbed thirteen boards en route to the Rockets tying the series in a 95-99 squeaker.

Game 5 is usually when Jordan doesn’t play around. These things don’t last longer than six-games typically. Forty-six points, eleven rebounds and eight assists wasn’t enough from the GOAT, Barkley-Clyde-Hakeem combined for eighty-six of their team’s points, barley pushing the veteran Rockets over the defending champions 113-105, setting the stage for Game six.

Legacies are formed and broken in Game sevens, but Game sixes are almost always better for whatever reasons. Even with all the accolades Jordan could not stand losing. This is the guy who lost to a friend at ping-pong once at college, bought his own table me trained until he was the best player on the team. The time of experimentation was over, Phil decided to go with what he knew worked. Taking advantages of size matchups wherever he could find them.

Sporting three inches over Mario Ellie Pippen made a joke of Ellie guarding him in the first half, hitting six of his first nine, 15 points and 5 rebounds when the buzzer signaled a change of sides. Michael couldn’t fly like he did in the early 90s when he and Pip made Magic and Worthy look as if they regretted picking basketball for a career; they just kept attacking them like a pack of crazed dogs. But he could hit the fadeaway with such consistency your knees buckled just from watching. Mother of all Christ, how can you stop this guy? It didn’t matter Hakeem and Charles clogged the paint, Jordan found his spots. Drexler responded to this by doing his best impression of a watered up corpse.

Barkley and Rodman battled for every rebound, every put-back, for every positioning on defense. For the brute force Rodman exhibited under the basket, Barkley knew how to score. 12 points, 10 rebounds for Barkley to Rodman’s 0 points and 14 rebounds. For the entirety of the first half the juice in the building was palpable, Jordan’s veins pulsating through his wrist, even i could see it and we’re talking 1997 television graphics. Maloney came up big where Drexler shrank, posting six points and four assists to give Houston the slim lead of 49-52, Jordan leading the game in scoring (22) and steals (5) and confirmed kills. Half of those points coming from the charity stripe because Barkley was tossing him around like a rag doll at every opportunity. Olajuwon brought down twelve boards, three blocks and two steals, not even committing a single foul.

Second half, Rudy T decided enough is enough and moved Ellie on to Jordan, Maloney on Kerr, Barkley on Pippen, Hakeem on Rodman and try to Jedi Mind Trick Luc Longly into firing off twelve-footers. Chicago’s first three possessions are punctuated by the energy being seeped out of the building and Longly front rimming everything. A Super Mario three and a Barkley and-one gave Houston a 49-58 lead before Phil burns his first time out of the half.

Drexler walks out of the huddle and sinks a twenty-six footer and mugs right in front Jordan’s face. Bad move. MJ says “fuck this,” drives like a freight train to the basket for a bucket and foul, nails a three of his own, and a sixteen-footer. Time out Rockets, 57-61 Rockets. There isn’t an adjustment you can make for Michael Jordan having enough of your shit. Just hope he simmers down.

Rudy T comes out of the timeout with Randy Livingston in place of Matt Maloney who’s earned a rest chasing Jordan like Wile E. Coyote hunting the Road Runner on switches. Before the huddle breaks Rudy emphasizes to Randy Livingston not leave his defensive assignment - Steve Kerr - under any circumstances, and tells Drexler to take on MJ. After a short dribbling exhibition Jordan gives it to Pippen on the right elbow, Barkley picks him up, forcing him to throw it to a wide open Jordan beyond the arc, seeing this Livingston closes out and manages to get MJ to get rid of the ball…right to Steve Kerr for the twenty-seven foot triple. 60-61. Barkley looks like he’s about to body slam Randy through the announcer table.

For most part thus game couldn’t have gone better for Houston up till this point. Pippen hadn’t scored since the 3:29 mark of the second quarter. Rodman’s been relegated to the bench due to his four fouls and Barkley hasn’t launched any ill-advised threes.

Scratch that. Speak of the devil. Barkley from the right corner hits the side of the rim, leading to a Harper-Pippen fast break, Longly taps it in for the put-back, Bulls take their first lead of the second half. Since the Drexler poking of the bear the Bulls have enjoyed a 13-0 run. Jordan contributing eight points and a crucial assist and continued to lockdown Clyde. Houston needs to get this game back to the inside, goad Pippen and Jordan near the basket. Olajuwon hasn’t allowed a point by either of them in his territory.

On offense the Rockets do just that, Livingston floats a pass over Pippen’s head and into Barkley’s hands, count it and the foul on Longly, his third of the night. Barkley sinks the extra and the Rockets now lead by a full possession. Barkley and Pip jaw at each other, earning a technical for both parties. Michael wants a piece of Charles for that elbow he threw at him in the second, having to be restrained by MMA master Robert Parish, a man Jordan wouldn’t - or shouldn’t even think about fighting. Charles has played like a nasty SOB all night. He hit the back of Longly’s head, tossed Jordan around the parquet and somehow got away with a kick to Bill Wennington’s left knee. One foul was called on Charles prior to the tech. One. Good job, Ed, you earn that dough.

A hesitation dribble done by Harper, he pulls up for a nineteen-footer, hits the left side of the rim, Hakeem gets the rebound ripped from his hands by MJ, and is given a forearm to the cheek in return. Two shots for Jordan. Nice guy my ass. Jordan makes both free throws bringing his point total to 32, and tying to game at 64 a piece.

Halfway thru the third and Rudy brings back in Ellie after two-minutes and twelve seconds of play time passing. I must say, moving Ellie on to Jordan worked great. It couldn’t have been done without Rodman on the bench, Pippen ate Mario alive before the rotation change. Now with Barkley breathing down Scottie’s neck, the best duo in basketball suffered its worse stretch of the night. For the rest of the third quarter, Pippen and Jordan would go scoreless, Houston would enjoy a 10-3 run and lead 74-67 at period’s end. Kevin Willis scored 7 of those ten points and ripped two boards from Longly’s clammy hands.

I’m stunned Kukoc hasn’t seen the floor yet. Is he even alive?

The Rockets are unafraid and even celebratory, while the Bulls look as tight as an otters anus. Kerr and Jordan bark at one another, MJ wants the ball, Kerr tells Jordan to “shut the fuck up,” at least that’s how I read his lips. Kerr brings the ball up to the floor on the right side, bounce passes it to Pippen in the post draped by Barkley, jump hook goes in.

Ellie goes down the floor, passes up a contested layup to Maloney for three and sinks it. 77-69, Rockets. Second triple of the night for Matt, 14 total points, five assists. Timeout Chicago. The fans at the United Center are in desperate need of a B12 shot. Barkley’s slapping hands with the rookie Maloney. What’s eluded him all his career is just seventeen minutes away. By the end of the third Houston’s lead was 83-75, Maloney hit one more three for good measure, Pippen tried to respond by going inside and getting blocked by Barkley making sure he’d never again go under the basket.

Jordan on Drexler, MJ looked to have mentally scarred “The Glide”, eight points, 3 turnovers, and didn’t see much of the floor in the third. Rudy T is going to have to go back to him soon. Ellie and Maloney are going to wear down. The 4th period starts with Jordan getting to his spot at the free throw line on back-to-back possessions getting Chicago within four. Drexler tries to throw it to Olajuwon in the post, deflected by Jordan, throws it to a streaking Randy Brown for the clear path layup. Houston up by two, timeout Rudy T, 9:48 left.

Rodman’s back in, five fouls for him now and is relegated to just being the an enforcer at this point. He returns and barrels through Barkley for his first bucket of the night. Tie game. Barkley tries to get payback, Pippen and Rodman stuff him on the double-team in the pinch post, ball comes free and is scooped up by a Ron Harper and dunks. Bulls lead. That B12 shot finally made its way to the United Center. This crowd has become unglued and are smelling blood. This long from being over. Jordan is anything but complacent. Pippen wants to go to war against Barkley and settle the “who’s the best forward” argument.

Hakeem’s back in, Bulls go with Rodman at center and dare Barkley to shoot. All his points tonight came courtesy of his fat ass so this strategy makes sense. Barkley pumps fake at the elbow, dishes it to a cutting Ellie for the uncontested layup, Rockets tie the game at 85. Bulls come down the court, Pippen takes the pass from Kerr at the baseline and drains the corner three. Jordan’s singing Scottie’s praises as he gets the crowd to go from unglued to fucking ballistic. In the commotion Maloney heaves it over Olajuwon’s head out of bounce. Deer in the headlights look on Maloney.

Bulls waste no time taking advantage of the Rockets mistake, Pippen again takes a long-range shot from the corner this time it rims out, a bunch of “ooohs” and “ahhs” followed by collective groans from spectators, Rodman pulls the ball to his chest, Jordan open at the free throw line and drains it. Two possession lead for Chicago, 90-85. Jordan has 38 and leads the game in scoring. Timeout Houston, they only have two left and there’s four-in-half left in the ballgame. Just judging by the body language who do you think is up 3-2 in this series? Livingston has his shoulders slumped, Barkley looks gassed. On the other end MJ, Scottie and Harper look ready to run a marathon when this is over.

Jason Caffey is in for Rodman, don’t know how I feel about this substitution. I don’t think the Rockets know he has five fouls otherwise they wouldn’t have guarded him as poorly as they did. Houston trots out Willis-Johnson-Barkley-Ellie-Maloney, I think Rudy’s seen enough of Drexler tonight. 3/12, eight points in the biggest game of his career.

Barkley’s played thirty-six minutes, Hakeem thirty-three, you notice the two’s contrasting body characteristics. Sir Charles glued his hands on his knees, Hakeem stands tall with both hands square on his hips. Noticing this, Maloney uses Olajuwon for a pick & roll and drains a three from dead center. 90-88. I see big things for Matt Maloney. On the other end Pippen sees a physically used up Barkley and drives into him for a trip to the line. Charles’ fourth foul of the night. Pippen makes 1 of 2 from the stripe, 91-88 Chicago, 3:13 left to go.

Taking control of this game Maloney does what should’ve been done the moment Rodman stepped back on to the parquet: run into Rodman and get that damned sixth foul…and the bucket. Maloney clanks the game-tying free throw, its rebounded by Charles, the putback is stuffed, Ellie picks up the loose ball eleven-feet from the basket and sinks the jumper. 92-91 Houston, 2:20 left. Jackson calls for timeout and suddenly the United Center became quieter than a funeral parlor - again.

Phil’s trying to draw up a ATO, kinda pointless. These sorts of games dwindle down to one-on-one, how much your best players have left in the tank. Rewatch last year’s Game 7 of the Finals the Warriors moved the ball better than any team I’ve ever seen. But in the biggest moment of the season, a 73-win season on the line, Steph couldn’t get passed Love off the dribble. Suddenly all the ball movement stopped and Cleveland was gifted with the Warriors going scoreless in the final four-minutes.

Jordan takes the inbounds from Pippen, goes under the basket, Jordan holds the ball with Ellie showing respect by guarding him in-front of the free throw line. Kicks it into high gear and drives it through the basket like it was nothing. 93-92. Okay, that wasn’t the play Jackson drew up, but like I said: these things come down to who has the most talent and energy left…maybe a fluke here and there just for good measure.

Drexler is back in, Maloney is out. NO! Takes it out from half court, Rudy draws up a redundant ATO that is of course ignored. Hakeem calls for it, Wennington trying his damnedest to keep him as far as from the basket, Pippen is sagging off Barkley beyond the arc ready to be the help defender. Drexler manages to thread the needle to Olajuwon on a bounce-pass, takes to his left, Pippen closes in, Hakeem dumps it to a wide-open Barkley - NO!

“Barkley for the lead…YES!” He did it! He fucking did it! Pigs have been confirmed to be flying in Hell on a cold day! Twenty fucking years later and I still can’t believe it!

Remember 'Forget Paris’, Billy Crystal is an NBA ref, falls in love with a girl or whatever. The voice actors for Marge Simpson and “Fat” Tony are in it. Anyways, the movie starts with Sir Charles hitting a three-pointer against the Spurs to send the Suns back to the NBA Finals. It’s waived off, Charles barks at a stern Billy Crystal that his waiving off his game-winner was “Turrible” in his classic Sir Charles drawl, the e being converted to a u. I feel like the writers didn’t want to put that in there because Barkley and myself would shoot the same percentage if the NBA let me play.

But now here it is, happening right before my very eyes. Ellie doesn’t know what to do with himself so he calls back to the “Kiss of Death” he infamously became known for - ironically against Barkley’s Suns in '95. This time Mario makes a point to do it across the court to Michael Jordan and he sees it. Gulp. Timeout Chicago, 42.8 ticks left.

Was that by design? Did Rudy Tomjanovich (see, I know how to spell his name. I’m just too lazy to do it) ignore all logic and reason and scribbled a play where Hakeem draws a double-team on the high pinch post, Ellie and Clyde isolate their respective defenders into the corners, 'Keem gives Wennington a little “Dream Shake” before Pip comes for the help, leaving Barkley open to make the most improbable shot in NBA history???

Nah. He probably just told his team to give it to Olajuwon and get the hell outta the way. That’s what I would do. What’s the point in even telling basketball players what to do in the waning seconds of a close game. Pride and masculinity takes over, in Charles’ head he HAD to take that shot. To the rest of us sane people: he didn’t.

Quick question: how much did that shot do for Barkley’s legacy? Is that one spot alone the reason in Simmons’ book put Barkley above Kevin Garnett and Karl Malone in the Pyramid?

Clyde stays in, Maloney is still out. That’s good. Never rely on a rookie in these moments. Especially with Jordan on the floor who’s made it his mission to hunt down Maloney all night. Oh, look, Toni’ on the floor! Hello, Toni! Look at him, folks. The only person in the building that won’t need a shower when this is all over.

Kukoc inbounds it to Jordan, Harper calls for the ball but he isn’t going to get. Ellie is doing one of two things: either he’s trying to goad Jordan into a fifteen-footer, he’ll leave with the result of it. Or, he wants Jordan to go for the win, trusting the larger sample that suggest Jordan isn’t a good three-point shooter. (34% was his percentage after the '97 regular season. Below average, but this was before teams even noticed the three-point line. If Michael played today he’d make them with the consistency of Klay Thompson)

Barkley and Hakeem stand pat in the paint, Michael blows past Ellie and into Barkley’s somewhat flappy torso, the ref swallows his whistle and the ball grazes the rim, rebound Hakeem. As the seconds dwindle down the Bulls scramble to find the worst free throw shooter on the Rockets and settle on Barkley (69.4 ft%). Fifteen-seconds left, Houston’s up two, chance to make it four and do what Charles couldn’t do in Phoenix: beat Michael.

Seriously, though, how was that not a foul? Barkley is clearly out of the restricted area…I think I seen a shove. What was the thing I said before about these things being decided by fluke-like occurrences?

Marv Albert, Matt Guokas and Bill Walton are not on the same page. Marv is rambling about how much a title would mean to Charles, why he signed in Houston when the writing was on the wall that the Suns’ window was closed. How Clyde wanted so badly after '92 to get “another crack” at Jordan and the Bulls. Guokas is whining about the no-foul call. Bill is busy dissecting the feel in the building. “It’s about as smooth as a horror movie”, what does that even mean?

The first free throw rattled in after all of Houston and Chicago felt their hearts nearly leap outta their chest. Charles looks shocked that shitty attempt even found its way to the bottom of the net. The next one goes left, Pippen grabs it and wastes no time giving it to Harper on the fast-break, Drexler does his second useful thing all night and picks him up, Harper stumbles and the ball rolls out of bounce and suddenly: the Houston Rockets are your World Champions!

How about that. This team looked ready to cave to the Supersonics a couple of weeks ago after nearly blowing a 3-1 lead, Drexler didn’t show up and they needed the rookie to step up big when it was clear the Bulls figured out what to do against the Rockets best three players on offense.

Jordan briskly walks towards Barkley and Clyde hugging one another in a totally not gay way. Shakes their hands like he finished runner-up at the British Open and gets the fuck out of the arena. I could almost hear him saying “I’ll show them, I’ll stick around until I’ve proven my point to the world that this doesn’t mean anything. I’ll over stay my welcome and leave a bitter taste in fans’ mouths when I begrudgingly hang it up.”

Confetti doesn’t fly. The Chicago faithful remained stunned in their seats. Someone shoves a microphone in front of Charles’ sweaty face, he cries out “I’ve saved you, Chicago, you’re welcome!”

#Houston Rockets #Chicago Bulls #charles barkley #hakeem olajuwon #clyde drexler #Michael Jordan #Scottie Pippen #Ron Harper #nba alternate history #dwbi #fanfiction