#and almost an entire fifth of Jameson

[magicalgirlmindcrank]

Lord I just realized it's been almost a decade since that day now, just over 9 years....

#it was sometime mid to late March? in 2012 #this is about my last honest suicide attempt #i swear tho if i had like 3 or 4 more ibuprofen or just a bit more alcohol... #still don't know how i just didn't go to the hospital and was fine #they were the really big ibuprofen like 800mg iirc #had about half the bottle #and almost an entire fifth of Jameson

[the-bau-quinjet]

Secret's Out

Summary: Request! Reid and Y/N are secretly dating, but their business doesn't stay their business for long.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence

Word Count: 2974

a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it :)

Sorry this took forever! It took me a while to think of case details that I liked and then I kept rewriting parts. I think I'm finally happy with it though!

Masterlist

"Spencer!" You pushed him away. "The doors could open at any moment! How are we supposed to keep this a secret if Morgan walks in on us kissing in the elevator?" You raised a brow at him.

"On average, elevators travel at a speed of 200 ft/min or about 4 seconds per floor. Being on the fifth floor means we have about 20 seconds to ourselves." He smiled triumphantly.

"Yeah, until someone surprises us on floor 3." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the doors once they opened.

"I can't help it. I'm just... really happy with you." He whispered softly.

"I'm really happy too." You smiled at him. You were about to lean in when the elevator doors opened once again to reveal JJ and Emily.

"Hey guys, ready for another case?" Emily glanced between you suspiciously, but thankfully didn't ask any prying questions.

"Yep, let's go!" You turned quickly, walking into the round table room without so much as a glance back at the three agents by the elevator.

"What's with her?" JJ questioned.

"Said she didn't sleep well last night. Must be all the caffeine." He held his own cup off coffee up in solidarity before also walking to the round table room.

"Alright, we've got 3 dead in Billings, Montana. All three were law enforcement, and all three were found this morning around the city." You listened as Penelope introduced the details of the case.

"Could be someone who feels the police didn't do a good enough job protecting a loved one?" You threw out a theory.

"Or someone who feels wronged by the criminal justice system as a whole." Rossi added on.

"Either way, they likely won't stop until we catch them. Wheels up in 20." Hotch rose from his seat as he spoke, wasting no time in preparing for take off.

You all dispersed briefly to grab your go bags, meeting back at the SUVs to head to the jet.

Once boarded, it didn't take long for the conversation to start up again.

"When we land, L/N go to the morgue. Dave, Prentiss take the first and second crime scenes, they're only a mile apart. Morgan and Reid, check out the third scene. I'll head to the precinct with JJ."

With Hotch's instructions set, you took what little time you had left on the flight to go over the causes of death.

-

"Anything stand out to you on the bodies?" You asked the ME after going over the blunt force trauma and bullet wounds.

"There's tape residue and bruising on the wrists and ankles. Based on the state of bruising, they were likely held for about 3 days before they were killed."

"Thank you for your help." You shook hands, pulling out your phone to call Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, they were held for days before they were killed. How did nobody notice they were missing?" There was nothing in the reports that indicated the victims were reported missing prior to being found.

"We just found the same pattern. They all used vacation days for various reasons in the days leading up to their deaths. Meet us back at the precinct and Reid can explain the whole pattern."

"Okay, I'm leaving now." You hung up just as you reached the SUV. Throughout the drive, you couldn't stop thinking that something wasn't adding up.

The victims were taken in the same day. It didn't make sense for the unsub not to escalate. So, why aren't any officers unaccounted for?

Suddenly, a truck crashed into your SUV, sending you flying off the road. A figure dressed in black opened the door and dragged you from the car.

"Agent L/N, it's so good to see you again." A male voice spoke, but you couldn't place it.

He hit you over the head with a handgun before dragging you to his own vehicle.

-

"Where's L/N?" Emily questioned when her and Rossi returned from the second dumpsite.

"On her way back from the ME." Hotch answered. "Did you find anything useful?"

"They truly are dumpsites. Both bodies were found by dumpsters, sending a pretty clear message." Dave replied.

"Same for the third site." Derek added on.

"All three victims were single and took time off leading up to their death. Nobody would've notice that they were missing until it was too late." Reid supplied the final bit of information gathered.

Hotch's phone rang before anyone else could comment. The frantic sound of Garcia's nails clicking against her keyboard echoed through the phone. She was talking before anyone could greet her.

"You need to see this, check your tablets."

Confused glances were exchanged as everyone, barring Reid, opened their tablets. Reid glanced over Morgan's shoulder to observe as well.

A seemingly live video that Garcia received a link to was streaming to the tablets.

A single woman sitting in a chair could be seen in the frame. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair with thick, gray tape and a bag was over her head.

"Garcia, what is this?" Hotch asked almost immediately.

"I was emailed the link just now. It's not streaming anywhere else online." Her reply came quickly, the sound of typing still filling in the silence.

"Can you trace it?" Rossi questioned.

"I'm trying, but it's being routed through multiple proxy servers."

"Did the email say anything?" Emily chimed in.

"No, it was just the link- Wait. I just got another email." She paused as the new email loaded. "It's addressed to Reid."

Every set of eyes in the room turned to Reid.

"What does it say?" He felt the nerves beginning to grow waiting for Garcia to read the words aloud.

"Dr. Reid,

I hope you remember me. What am I saying, of course you do. I've got something of yours that you might want back. You see Dr. Reid, you and your team ruined me. My family, my career, all of it, just gone. I thought I'd return the favor. A person's phone can be so informative. Tell me, does your team know about your girlfriend? I've so enjoyed getting reacquainted with her.

Happy hunting."

Spencer's face went white as he looked at Morgan's tablet again. His thoughts were racing. How did he not recognize you before? Even with the bag over your head, he should've known it was you.

"It's her." His words were barely a whisper.

"This is your girlfriend?" Morgan gestured to the screen again. Spencer could only nod in reply, his mind unable to focus on anything except you.

"Reid, listen to me. You've got to tell us everything you know about her. We'll have to split up. You can go back to Quantico with Emily and Morgan, the rest of us will stay here to work on our current case." Hotch was already devising a strategy to work both cases.

"There's no need." His words made sense to him, but sounded cryptic to the rest of the team.

"Kid, of course there is. We'll help you get her back." Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively shocking him back to the present situation.

"There's no need to split up because she's here. She's in Montana." Before he could continue, everyone was asking questions.

"Give me a phone number and I'll get you a location." Garcia was already typing away again.

"Are you sure she's here?" JJ's brows furrowed. She did her best to hide the hurt of her best friend hiding his girlfriend from her, again.

"Why would she be here?" Rossi added.

"How did she get here? Maybe we can track the transportation and figure out means of abduction." Emily was the only one thinking about the case.

Like ripping off a bandaid, Spencer blurted out the truth.

"It's Y/N."

He was met with silence in the room as everyone absorbed the information.

Garcia caught up first, a sudden gasp sounding through the phone.

"So, then that's Y/N... in the video..." Her voice wavered.

As if a switch was flipped, the team was back on the case.

"Garcia, get me a list of anyone who would have a grievance with the team." Hotch ordered.

"Go through anyone who was falsely accused. Start with cases in or around Montana. He would want to keep this close to home." Rossi specified.

"We've only had one case in Montana since Y/N joined the team." Reid supplied the knowledge as it came to him. "A name, I need a name." He muttered to himself, pulling his hair as he roughly ran his hands through it and over his face. "Garcia, look into Jameson Braddock."

"Got it." She immediately began a background check, searching through case files and news articles for additional information. "i'll get back to you with locations." With that, she hung up.

"Fill us in, kid. Who is Jameson Braddock." Morgan lead Reid to a chair, gently easing him into it.

"Our last case in Montana, Emily and I went to interview a witness." Emily nodded, the memories slowly coming back to her.

"He wasn't very forthcoming, and then he tried to run." She added on.

"Exactly, except he didn't make it very fair. We arrested him, but it turned out he was only guilty of selling alcohol to minors. When word of his arrest got out, the whole town thought it was for the serial rapes and murders we were investigating even though it was never confirmed."

"By the time we corrected the media, it was too late." JJ supplied, also remembering the man.

"So, he killed three officers just to draw us out back out here?" Morgan refocused the conversation on the current case.

"It looks that way now. The media knew we were coming, so he must have as well." Emily theororized. "If he followed us from the airport, he would've seen Y/N leave by herself."

"He likely didn't know about your relationship until he abducted her and went through her phone." Hotch paced the room.

"He's flaunting his power over us." Rossi chimed in just as Hotch's phone rang again.

"Garcia, what've you got?"

"Three addresses in Billings, Montana. Jameson Braddock has been on a downward spiral since your last trip there. His entire life fell apart, like he said. Divorced, his wife moved to Nebraska with their two kids. He lost his job at the high school, and was evicted from his house when he could no longer pay the bills." She listed the information quickly.

"He has ties to three addresses. Nobody has moved into his previous house, so it's vacant. He's got a small apartment in the northern part of the city which he pays for through working odd hours at Taco Bell. Finally, he briefly worked security at a now abandoned warehouse."

"An apartment wouldn't be enough space to hold her without the chance of someone hearing. She's not there." Rossi eliminated the location as an option.

"We'll split up to cover the warehouse and the house-" Hotch began, but Reid cut him off.

"No, we shouldn't split up. She's got to be at the house. The warehouse has no connection to his previous life. He wants revenge for our perceived wrongdoing, he wouldn't make his last stand at a new location." Reid was already putting on a bullet proof vest. Despite how his mind was racing, he refused to show how afraid he was.

"You're sure?" Morgan asked, on the fence about committing to one location.

"Absolutely." With that, Reid was out the door heading for the SUVs.

-

"Rossi, Emily head around back. I'll take the front with Reid. JJ and Morgan, the side door." Hotch instructed the team to split up upon arrival at the house.

Reid wasted no time in approaching the house. He was confident you were inside, but he didn't know what was happening to you.

The main floor was cleared quickly. Again, the team split up to cover the upper level and the basement.

Knowing you were likely downstairs, Reid immediately started that direction, JJ and Hotch following him.

It wasn't hard for him to find you. You were still tied to the chair in the middle of the room, bag over your head.

Before anyone could stop him, Reid lowered his gun and ran to you. He gently maneuvered the bag off your head, stopping his movements only when he felt something press into his back.

"Dr. Reid. So kind of you to join us." Braddock spoke maniacally, pressing the gun against Reid's head.

"Drop your weapon." Hotch commanded, but the man only cackled in response.

'Y/N... Y/N." Reid gently shook you in an attempt to wake you up.

"She can't hear you." Braddock singsonged.

"What did you do?" Reid tried to turn to him only to feel the gun press further into his head.

"Like I said in my email, you people ruined my life. They took everything from me, so I thought I'd try to return the favor." During his short speech, Braddock shifted just enough for JJ to get a clean shot.

He fell to the ground, gun clattering across the floor.

Reid moved quickly to remove the tape binding you to the chair while Hotch called for a medic in the basement.

The entire team watched as you were wheeled into the ambulance, still unconscious, none more scared than Spencer.

-

"She's going to be fine, Spence." JJ tried to reassure him, nonetheless his pacing continued.

"You don't know that. We don't even know what he did to her." He had one hand anxiously running through his hair, the other pinching the bridge of his nose in distress.

Just then, a doctor emerged from behind closed doors.

"F/N L/N." She called into the waiting room, slightly taken aback when the group of agents rushed to her.

"It was touch and go for a while, but she got here just in time." It was visible to even the least qualified profiler how relieved the team felt. Their previously tense shoulders relaxed, frowns turned to small smiles, wide eyes and raised brows pinched together with joy.

"What happened?" Emily posed the question everyone was thinking.

"In short, she was drugged. It's not clear what exactly was used, but it was likely a mix of drugs that attempted to stop her heart."

"Can we see her?" Morgan spoke next, cautiously eyeing Reid.

"You may, follow me." The doctor lead them through a series of hallways to your room. "She should be waking up soon."

With that the doctor left, allowing the team to file into the room. You looked strangely peaceful for someone who almost died.

"So..." JJ glanced between you and Spencer. "Girlfriend, huh?"

His eyes went wide. Instinctively, he turned to you for help, but you were still asleep. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out.

"Relax, kid." Morgan grinned. "We're happy as long as you two are happy."

Spencer smiled gratefully, looking at you with an adoring gaze. "We are happy."

"How long?' Emily gestured to your joined hands. Just before Spencer could answer, you groaned.

"I want to hear your guesses first." Your voice was raspy, but there was a clear smile on your face. "Also, what happened?"

The quickly explained the email Garcia received and the events that followed.

"Now that that's cleared up, do tell us how long you think we've been together. I know you've got a bet going." You narrowed your eyes, playfully glaring at each team member.

"4 months." Hotch begrudgingly admitted. JJ followed with 3 months, Derek and Rossi both betting 10 weeks, and Emily going with 6 weeks.

"Ha, you're all wrong." You smiled triumphantly, leaning closer to Spencer.

"Wait, we haven't heard from Garcia." Derek smirked as he rung her on speaker phone.

"Oh, my beautiful crime fighters. Y/N, are you okay?" Your smile widened at the concern in her voice.

"I am indeed, but I have a very important question for you." You glanced as Spencer briefly before continuing. "How long do you think Spence and I have been together?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Her excitement caught everyone but you off guard. "7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days."

Spencer's jaw dropped as he stuttered out, "that's exactly right..."

"How'd you figure it out?" The group of profilers wore matching expressions of surprise as Penelope explained.

"Well, we had just finished testifying in the Bigelow trial. The whole team went out for drinks, and I could just see it in Y/N's eyes the next day that something wonderful happened. At first I just thought that she got some, but then I saw her and the good doctor in the kitchen getting coffee and I knew." Penelope's voice held a mixture of smugness and pure excitement.

"Babygirl, you didn't tell me?" Derek sounded genuinely offended.

"Y/N asked me not to." Even though you couldn't see her, you knew she punctuated the statement with a shrug.

"You knew, she knew?" Spencer turned to you in shock.

You nodded. "I could see it on her face the second I walked out of the kitchen. But she promised not to tell, so I didn't either."

"The two of you, thick as thieves." Rossi lamented.

"I love you so much." Spencer whispered into your ear as he pulled you in for a hug.

"I love you too." You whispered right back.

"Honestly, I'm glad the secret's out." You smiled at Spencer before looking at the rest of the team. "Although, I wish I didn't have to be kidnapped to tell you."

You spent a few more hours in the hospital before being cleared to go back to the hotel.

The next morning, you smiled to yourself as you were finally able to cuddle with Spencer during the flight home.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

#spencer reid x reaader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds fic

[fa-headhoncho]

Fuck Iron Man

platonic!Peter Parker x Reader, platonic!Tony Stark x reader

Prompt: Literally this tiktok

Word Count: 979??

Reader: Gender neutral

Warning: underage drinking

Author's Note: I saw this tiktok and thought this would be so fucking funny if it was Tony instead so here it is.

Masterlist

=====

Walking into the large suburban house is like taking a step into a cliche high school movie. The music was blaring, the bass vibrating through your entire body, the smell of sweat and Axe spray overloading your nose, and the pulsing LED lights almost blind you. Every kid you’ve seen in the hallway all cramped into the house of John Jonah Jameson III, aka the son of the most hated publisher of the Daily Bugle. His parents were away on some trip and, of course, the teenage boy jumped at the opportunity to throw the “best party that Midtown High will ever see”.

“I don’t think we should be here, (Y/N).” You hear Peter mutter from behind you, reaching out and tugging you like a child fearing losing their parent in a crowd.

“Come on, Peter.” You sigh out, turning around to face him. He was hunched into himself, a nervous expression on his face as he takes in the unfamiliar environment. “Relax a bit, one night of fun won’t hurt you.”

“But this guy’s dad literally hates my guts, what if--”

You shake your head at him, resting your hands on his shoulders to cut off the rambling before he gets the chance to start it. The brunette freezes on the spot, staring back at you with his eyes wide and his mouth open, “No, this guy’s dad hates our Spider-friend, not you.” You correct, “All they know is we’re two completely normal teenagers who don’t have superhero alter-egos attending a completely normal high school party.”

Peter lets out a sigh and nods, his body visibly relaxing at your words. A smile appears on your face at the action. “Now,” You pull your hands away and start leading him down the hallway, “let’s see if our friend’s spidey senses will win us a game of beer pong.” You suggest with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

=====

As the night went on, the group of teenagers migrated to the basement of the home. The nicely decorated family room was transformed into a mini dance club; the couches were pushed against the wall, the table that once held endless files of documents was covered by varieties of alcohol, and the surround sound was blasting Mr. Brightside for the fifth time that night.

The bodies bumping against each other go unnoticed as you scream the chorus with your classmates. You don’t even notice your beverage being splashed onto you every time you jumped. Your mind was empty, only fuzzy thoughts bounced around as all your worries disappeared with every sip of Budlight you took.

“(Y/N), (Y/N)!” You barely hear your name being called until someone appears in front of you. Their hand grabs your arm, trying to ground you back into reality. You blink your eyes, trying to get rid of the black spots that dance around your vision before you focus on the person.

“Oh, hi Petey!” You let out a giggle, finally recognizing the brunette. His worried expression goes completely over your head as you stare back at him. His mouth moves but you can’t hear anything come out. You squint your eyes and try to read his lips but all you can make out through your hazy state is;

“Something… something… Mr. Stark.”

Your ears perk up at the mention of your boss. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to piece together why he was bringing the old man up. That guy was a buzz kill, always dragging you off to last-minute missions and taking up all your free time. “The price you have to pay to be a hero”, his words echo through your head.

Now appalled at the idea of the man ruining the one night you’ve gotten off in months, you shout out the first thing that comes to mind. “Yo, fuck Iron Man!” You scream out with the confidence of someone who wasn’t grateful for the hero to take them in and give them everything they asked for.

It’s as if the music has stopped and everyone had heard you. From a distance, you can hear someone echo your words. Then, it was like the group has come to an unspoken agreement, everyone starts yelling “Fuck Iron Man!” at the top of their little underage lungs.

A sense of gratification washes over you, proud that you started such a strong movement in the basement of drunk teenagers. Peter’s eyes widen as he watches you make your way over to the coffee table in the front of the room.

You stand with your back straight, fist raised in the air while the other holds a red plastic cup. You lead your new militia, chanting “Fuck Iron Man” with your full chest. Not even noticing the music has indeed stopped and people’s focus has shifted to the staircase.

Thinking they were waiting for you to say some choice words, you start your heartfelt speech. “For months, I’ve been holed up in the tower, doing Tony Stark’s dirty work! (L/N) do this, (L/N) do that, (L/N) have you completed your twenty missing assignments. No, I have a life! I’m still young! The old man has me on a leash, now look at me now, Tin-Can! I’m livin’ the dream!”

No one responds which causes your shoulders to drop. You were expecting cheers of agreement and excitement. Confused, you follow their gaze to the bottom of the staircase and your heart drops out of your ass.

All the alcohol in your blood stream seemed to evaporate as you see the Iron Man standing there. He had just heard about a hundred teenagers shouting profanities against him followed by his trainee’s revolutionary speech... he was astonished.

You gulp at his stance, knowing it too well. He had his arms acrossed his chest with one lazily holding his glasses to his lips, nibbling at the arm of it.

Oh, you were fucked.

“Mr. Stark, sir, I—“

“No, no, continue. Don’t stop on my accord.” His cocky voice sends shivers down your spine, “Tell me how you really feel.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #tony stark x bucky barnes #iron man x reader #spiderman x reader #tom holland #mcu #mcu crack #marvel #marvel fanfic #dad!tony stark x reader #dad tony stark #tony stank

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #1

A/N: I can’t believe I’m doing this, welcome to my fanfiction comeback after more than ten years. Jesus Christ, I’m nervous af. Feel free to comment and correct me (not my first language, sorry if sth is wrong), I’d be super happy for someone to beta me in fact! As the quidditch timelines are kind of messed up, I put Skye and MC in the same year, ignoring the fact that they are not supposed to know each other initially. Orion and McNully are one year above them. Enjoy!

 Word Count: ~ 2.800

______________________________________________________________

“What I dream of is an art of balance.”- Henri Matisse

 Chapter 1: New Beginnings

It was a hot day. It was, in fact, far too hot for this time of the year. The sun was blazing down relentlessly on Kings Cross Station, its windows shining in the glaring sunlight. It was not only hot, the air was also muggy as well. Lizzie Jameson fidgeted in her clothes as she pushed her cart through the dense mass of students and parents saying their goodbyes, looking for familiar faces to begin her ride to Hogwarts for her fifth year with.

“Do try to stay out of trouble this time, will you, dear?”

Her mother was walking closely behind her, eager to give her daughter last minute advice on how to behave properly for once. Lizzie rolled her eyes at the huge grey cat towering above her trunk in its cage, only listening half-heartedly.

“Sure, Mum, I’ll try my best… it’s not like I’m asking for trouble, you know?”

She heard the soft laugh of her mother and turned around to see her smiling fondly at her.

“I’m not so sure of that one.”

She opened her arms and Lizzie gave her a hug.

“Oi, Jameson! Over here!”

She looked up and saw a familiar head of black and blue hair waving through the crowd. Lizzie let go of her mother.

“Mum, there’s Skye over there, waiting for me.”

“It’s alright, dear. Go on ahead.”

Her mum gave her another quick hug and slightly pushed her away. “Just promise me to try. Be good, study and write sometime!”

Lizzie just laughed, barely listening anymore, waved and made her way over to Skye, who was standing beside her father in a thick mass of flustered students admiring the Quidditch star. He broke into a smile as he saw her approach.

“Well, if it isn’t Elizabeth Jameson, the second best chaser Hufflepuff has seen in a while!” Ethan Parkin, famous chaser of the Wigton Wanderers, gave her a slap on the back. “Are you ready for another shot at the Quidditch cup, Lizzie? I already gave Skye a detailed briefing on how to- “.

“It’s alright, dad,” Skye piped in, “I can recite your strategies in my sleep, we’ll be good.” She grinned at Lizzy. “Let’s go find a seat and some of the others. I can’t wait to tell you what stunts I’ve been trying out over summer break!”

The Hogwarts Express was slowly running out of Kings Cross station when Skye and Lizzie finally had a chance to look for a place to seat. Having been on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team for several years now, they had gained quite the popularity with their house mates.

Exhausted from greeting what felt like the whole of their house, they finally found the department they had been looking for. Inside sat the rest of their little Quidditch gang, their fellow chaser and team captain Orion Amari and the not-so-impartial commentator Murphy McNully. McNully was excitedly telling Orion what seemed to be the new statistics he had come up with during summer break, while Orion was sitting cross-legged on his seat with his eyes closed and a zoned-out smile on his face. When they entered, he opened his eyes and smiled warmly at the sight of them.

“Ah, there you are! I knew there was a 77% chance of you coming here to join us, we kept seats for you!” McNully shouted excitedly.

“What are the other 23%?”, Lizzie wanted to know.

“You might have run into Penny Haywood or Rowan Khanna first. I think the chances of Rowan actually enjoying our company are at about 16 %. At best. So, I figured she wouldn’t want to sit with us. Which means, if she would have met you first, she would have asked you to sit with her, which you would of course have agreed to, as she is you best friend because you met her back in Diagon Alley before your first year and- “.

“Shut up, McNully.” Skye rolled her eyes at him and looked over to Lizzie. “It’s true though, she doesn’t really seem to like us that much.”

Lizzie shrugged. “No idea really, she actually really enjoys Quidditch. I guess she is just more of the watching type. Or reading about it, for that matter. But don’t you worry about her.”

Lizzie laid back in her seat next to Murphy, enjoying the cool air that was streaming from the partially open window into the stuffed cabin. She leaned forward again, putting her feet on the seat opposite of her and looked at her friends. “So, what have you guys been up to this summer? Ready for a brand-new year, brand-new season?”

Skye’s face immediately lit up with excitement. “You bet I am! Wait ‘til you see the tricks my dad taught me! We will stomp Ravenclaw into the dust in no time, just you wait!”

McNully only shook his head next to her. “Winning against Ravenclaw only makes up 30 % of what it takes to win the Cup, Skye. There are still Gryffindor and Slytherin to beat as well.”

Skye tilted her head, looking at him questioningly. “That’d make 90 %, what’s with the missing 10 %? Luck or what?”

McNully laughed. “I don’t believe in luck. No, it’s way better than that! We’re talking team compositions, daily form, weather conditions, bludger flight path velocity…” He gazed dreamily into the distance. “I could go on forever.”

Skye shook her head. “Don’t. Besides, all that stuff doesn’t help you win a match if you can’t hold yourself on a broom when you need to.

“But it can!”, McNully retorted, “There are so many factors influencing that as well. Just think about the grip factor on the broom handle, or centrifugal powers during turns or- “

Leaving them to their discussion, Lizzie got up and sat down next to her team captain. Watching them bicker back and forth, she couldn’t help but smile fondly. “They will never find middle ground, will they?”

Orion watched them thoughtfully. “Why would they? All the different beliefs we have are but representations of the many sides of Quidditch.”

Lizzie looked at him, processing what he just had said. “I guess you’re right.” She smiled. “How has your summer been?”

He shrugged. “I’ve let myself flow wherever the universe destined me to go.”

Lizzy shook her head at his answer, nebulous as ever. “And have you flown any interesting place in particular?”

“I did spend a lot of time surrounded by nature, reconnecting with myself, finding the balance to focus on what’s to come.”

Lizzie grinned. “So, wandering about in the woods, is that it?”

Orion chuckled softly. She had a way of breaking down his words. “Yes, you could put it that way.”

They chatted on about hiking and the trails Lizzie’s parents had taken her to this summer for a while before they fell into a comfortable silence, watching the trees outside rush by and listening to Skye’s and McNully’s bickering.

*

Lizzie jerked awake when the door to their department banged open and a whirlwind of blond hair burst in. Judging by the golden light outside, she must have slept for almost the entire ride.

“Lizzie, Skye! It’s so good so to see you all, I’ve been looking for you since we left London.”

Penny Haywood smiled her radiant smile at them, letting herself fall into the seat next to Lizzie. Lizzie rubbed her eyes, brain still foggy from her nap. “The train is only so long, and we’ve almost arrived, what have you been doing for so long?”

Penny giggled. “Oh, you know, catching up here and there, saying hello to people… There is SO much stuff I have to tell you later!”

Lizzy grinned at her. “Lots of juicy gossip?”

Penny laughed out loud. “You bet!” She lowered her voice. “Did you know that Billingsley apparently blew up his pumpkin pastry earlier, right in Merula Snyde’s face? And rumour has it, Tonks and Tulip have declared a prank war for this year!”

Lizzy shot an annoyed glance at Skye, who had started talking considerably louder, waving her hands in McNully’s face when Penny had entered. “No, I didn’t know that,” she replied. “Sounds like we’re in for quite a ride.”

“As always with these two.” Penny turned towards the cage where the ears of Lizzies cat had jerked up upon her entering. “Aw, hello Mousey, my sweet darling, have you missed me?” The grey cat purred, rubbing her head against Penny’s outstretched hand through the bars of her carrier.

Skye snorted. “Are you talking to that little devil over there? I swear, if that fur ball so much as touches my quills this year, I’ll make a hat out of her!”

Ignoring her, Penny rubbed Mouse’s chin. “We have no idea who she is talking about, right, Mousey? Such a good girl you are!” She suddenly looked up, waving at someone passing by their carriage. Lizzie followed her gaze just to see whoever she had been waving at quickly picking up their pace. But not quick enough for her to not recognise the familiar face.

She got up off her seat and stepped out into the hallway. “Hey, Rowan! Hey, wait up!” Rowan Khanna, her best friend since the beginning of her Hogwarts journey together, stopped dead in her tracks and turned.

“Oh… hey, Liz… sorry, didn’t see you. How’s things going?”

Lizzie frowned. She’d imagined Rowan being excited to see her, hugging her and asking about her summer, like she always did. She opened her mouth to speak when Penny, who had followed her, spoke up.

“Hello Rowan, how are you? Congratulations again on becoming a prefect, first step to being Head Girl managed!”

Rowan said nothing, looking sheepishly at Lizzie, whose gaze had dropped to the shiny yellow and black prefect badge sitting on the chest of Rowan’s robes.

“Wow, Rowan congrats! You really deserve that,” Lizzie exclaimed. She’d had no idea her best friend had been being chosen as one of Hufflepuff’s new prefects.

Rowan’s cheek blushed a little. “Yeah, well thanks, I guess. See you guys at the station.”

She awkwardly waved goodbye and hurried off. Penny arched her eyebrows. “What was that about? She was rather weird, wasn’t she?”

Lizzie didn’t answer, still staring after her friend. She remembered what Penny had said. “You knew about her becoming prefect?” she asked.

Penny looked at her bewildered. “Of course, she wrote to me as soon as she learned. Didn’t she tell you?”

Lizzie shook her head. “No, not a word. We didn’t write a lot this summer, in fact. I thought she would have told me something that important to her.”

Penny shrugged. “Don’t worry, maybe your letters were just badly timed or something.” They stepped back into their cabin and Penny dropped into her seat. “Do you know who else was chosen?”

“I only know Charlie is a prefect now, he told me as soon as the owl arrived.”

Penny smiled a very innocent smile at her. “Charlie Weasley instantly sent you a letter when he learned he was appointed prefect?”

Lizzie shot her a glance. “Stop looking at me like that. Yes, he did, because we happen to be friends. Just friends, alright? No baseless assumptions before the new term has even started!”

Penny just grinned, prompting Lizzie to roll her eyes. “Actually, I had thought they would choose you, Penny. Top notch grades, loved by everyone, barely getting into trouble, sounds like an ideal prefect.”

“Not since she started hanging with us,” Skye chuckled. “Penny’s been to too many pre- and post-match parties for the teachers’ liking, I guess.”

A light laugh escaped Penny’s throat. “Busted! But how could I say no to celebrating victory with the Skye Parkin?”

Skye said nothing and looked out of the window for a moment. “More celebrating defeat when it comes to last year.” Her attention shifted over to Orion. “Seriously though, do you have a plan for this year? Like, we finished last year in not the best state and we need a new beater as well.”

Lizzie went pale at that. “Merlin forbid, you won’t have me play beater again, will you?”

Orion looked at her calmly. “As you know, to me all positions are equal, merging into one another to form one complete team.”

Skye grabbed hold of Lizzie’s arm possessively. “Oh no, no, no, Amari, don’t you dare taking her from me again. That season with her as beater was mediocre at best. We want to have a shot at the Cup, we need her as our third chaser.”

“Don’t fear Skye. While I think Lizzie made a formidable beater, I agree with you. She’s evolved into a true chaser. No, we will hold try outs to see if a new calling arises in one of our fellow housemates.”

Satisfied with his answer, Skye let go of Lizzie, who was peering out of the window.

“I am really glad to hear that.” She pulled Skye to her feet.

“Come on, girls, we’re almost there, let’s get changed.” She grabbed the bag with her school robes inside and waited impatiently until Skye had dug up hers out of the chaos that was her trunk.

***

They had nearly arrived at Hogsmeade Station when Skye, Penny and Lizzie returned.

Orion was clasping his robe over his sweater, feeling uncomfortable. He hated wearing his school uniform, he always felt confined in them. He was already looking forward to changing into his loose shirt and coat again.

He touched his tie, looking at McNully questioningly. “Good?”

His friend grinned at him. “Not as good-looking as me, but good enough, I guess.”

He pointed to Orion’s neck. “You forgot your necklace, though.”

Orion ran his hand over the round pendant he always wore around his neck, tucking it down his shirt. “No, I didn’t. I am not taking it off if I don’t have to.”

“I know.” McNully waved a hand at him. “I’ve never seen you without it, except when you’re playing Quidditch, which is because all pieces of jewellery have to be removed for safety reasons, since we became friends, which was in our first year, of course, when you took the bed next to me in the dorm and we started chatting and…”

He actually managed to stop himself. “What I want to say, I know you don’t like taking it off.”

The door opened and Penny, Skye, and Lizzie re-entered the cabin. Skye wasn’t looking too happy to be wearing a skirt and robes instead of her signature house sweater and jacket. Orion saw her touching her tie in the same uncomfortable way he had just done.

“Ugh, I hate this uniform so much, it’s just so uncomfortable,” she complained promptly. “I really don’t see why we have to change for, what, two hours, before going back to the Common Rooms and getting out of these. We’ll be wearing them enough during the year.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes at her before reaching for her cat snoozing in her cage. “Can you just stop complaining, please? It’s not like you can change it.”

“Yes, but I can make a point about not liking it.”

“They just want everyone to look proper when the new students walk into the Great Hall for the first time.” Penny casually brushed some dirt off Skye’s shoulder, who shut up immediately.

“Speaking about looking proper, Lizzie, you should really brush out your hair, I don’t think Professor Sprout would appreciate you walking in with hair that messy.”

Lizzy touched her hair she still had tied up in a bun, now worse for wear from the heat and the wind coming from the window. “Oh, I forgot about that.” She pulled her hair band out, shaking out her light brown curls, brushing through them with her fingers as a makeshift brush. “Better?”

Penny looked at her dubiously. “Not much, but it’ll do, I think.” She ran her fingers through a strand of Lizzie’s hair. “I do have to say though, that new length suits you so well, Liz, I’m glad you listened to me and chopped it off.”

Orion watched Lizzie tucking her hair behind her ear. Penny was right, it suited her a lot. Until the end of last year, Lizzie’s long hair had almost come down to her waist. Not being the tallest, it had always made her look younger than she was, almost drowning her.

Now it ended just below her shoulders, the shorter length allowing it to curl stronger than before. She looked much more grown up like that, more feminine. As they were leaving the train, McNully, who was pushing his wheelchair in front of him, shot him a side glance.

“Lizzie looks changed, doesn’t she?”

Orion wondered if he had seen him looking. On second thought, of course he had.

“Is it important how we look on the outside when all that matters is our inside?” he evaded his question nebulously. For once, McNully didn’t reply, following the girls up to the carriages waiting for them.    

#harry potter #hogwarts mystery #hphm #orion amari #orion amari x mc #skye parkin #murphy mcnully #penny haywood #rowan khanna #quidditch #elizabeth jameson #lizzie jameson #art of balance #the quidditch squad #quidditch squad

[spiderman-homecomeme]

Day One - Hidden Connections

AN: You guys!!! Spideychelle week is finally here!! Ahhhh I’m so excited to see what everyone else as written and to share my stuff! Here is my contribution to day one! It’s a little short and quick, and there’s a fair amount of non-romantic stuff in it, but I just thought this idea was really funny and had to write it down! A huge thank you to @spideychelleweek for putting this together! 

Prompt: Secret Relationship AU/College AU

Pls enjoy some 2.4k of humor, fluff, and a dash of angst.

.

.

“To whom it may concern,”

“Dear Sir or Madam,”

“Dear Mr. Bugle,”

“Hello,

I hope your day is going well.

My name is Peter Parker, and I happened to film the altercation between the criminal known as Rhino and the heroes Luke Cage and Spider-Man on the intersection of 42nd Street and 11th Avenue. I have some screencaps of it attached, if you are interested in the video for a blog post, let me know. I am willing to sell said footage for a discounted quick-sale price.

Sincerely,

Yours Truly,

Love,

Thanks,

Peter Parker

--

Releasing a puff of air through his lips, Peter hits send.

The clickable ad he’d seen while scrolling through Facebook said: SEND VIDEOS OF SPIDER-MAN. $1 PER SECOND*. It was only after he’d clicked did he notice the fine print: Spider-Man must be within the frame for the whole second, otherwise the dollar is void.

But that doesn’t matter. Peter has a full five minutes that Dronie had so graciously recorded for him of Luke Cage and him kicking Rhino’s ass.

And he really needs the money.

MJ’s birthday is four days away, a day which also coincides with his rent being due, so in other words: he’s essentially broke. While he does have money in his bank account, he only has enough for one of those things, not both, and he can’t really afford to be evicted at this point. He knows MJ won’t leave him if he doesn’t get her anything…

But she at least deserves something nice.

This video should net him roughly $300; he can take her out to a nice dinner, maybe buy her something actually decent for a change. Not another scarf.

And who knows? She might not even want to go out to a fancy restaurant, seeing as she’s turned down every offer he’s given to take her out in the six months they’ve been dating. Every date night, it’s either been take-out, a quick slice, or some kind of fast food. Not that he’s complaining about hanging out with his girlfriend; every minute spent with her was more than enough. And he’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t a little easier on the wallet.

But there was still that seed of doubt. Why did she never want to leave Queens? Why was it always such a rush to get back home? Why hadn’t she introduced him to her parents? The intrusive, relentless thought that her being embarrassed of him might have been a factor whispered darkly in the back of his mind. He knows he can be immature at times, both with his sense of humor and overall behavior, so, albeit shamefully, he could understand where she was coming from.

Maybe a nice present accompanied by a fancy dinner could help to prove that he can act like a grown-up.

Maybe.

--

The next morning, while happily munching on a bowl of Hulk O’s, he’s genuinely surprised to see a reply in his notification bar from none other than J. Jonah Jameson himself.

“I want to see that video. Will talk about your payment after I have it analyzed by my team.

Your appointment is today at 9am. Don't be late.

J.J. Jameson

Editor for the Daily Bugle Heralding Your Daily News │Tel [212] 555-7109│Fax [877] 555-0971

Sent from my iPhone.”

Peter only allows himself a moment to be put off by the the informality of Jameson’s response, brows crinkled as he turns to check the time.

8:30 AM.

He drops his spoon into the bowl, milk and soggy cereal splashing.

Well, shit.

He stuffs whatever clothes he can find into a backpack before roughly yanking his suit on; he flings himself out of his fifth story window, cereal bowl abandoned on the kitchen counter. Phone in hand, following along on Google Maps, he wonders how super heroes were able to find their way around big cities before GPS.

The next thirty minutes fly by in a blur, and Peter honestly doesn’t know how he’s able to put enough brain cells together to find a place to change into his civilian “interview” clothes. It’s a wonder he made it there in one piece.

The lobby doesn’t have any kind of directory, or any indication of where J. Jonah Jameson is supposed to be. In fact, Peter isn’t even sure where he’s supposed to meet the guy, unable to recall if there’d been anything like that in the email.

He gingerly approaches the front desk, ducking his head down slightly as he offers a smile to the receptionist. “Uhm, hello! I’m here to see Mr. Jameson?”

The woman gives him the the quick once over, visibly unimpressed. “You got a delivery, kid?”

“Uh, n-no.” Peter shifts awkwardly, smile fading. “He, uh, he sent me an email. To meet him at nine? Today? Right… Right now?”

“Hold on,” she says, her voice monotone, turning to the phone on the desk and dialing a four digit number with freshly manicured nails.

Peter starts to say, “Thanks,” but is cut off by the woman holding a finger up.

“Hey Ted, I’ve got a kid down here. Says he’s supposed to meet with Jameson. Do you know anything about it?”

She listens for a moment, nodding. “Okay, thanks.”

Click.

“Okay, kid, go over to that elevator. 17th floor. Someone will meet you.”

Peter smiles again, throwing a quick, but polite, “Thank you,” over his shoulder as he moves.

He’s met by who he assumes to be Ted, a slight middle-aged man with tired eyes. “Peter Parker?” He asks.

Peter nods.

“Alright, follow me.”

Peter isn’t taken directly to the office at first, only being seated in the waiting area just outside.

For thirty minutes.

9 AM, he said. Don’t be late, he said.

The door to the office is ajar, the sound of Jameson yelling at and berating some poor unfortunate soul over the phone almost as loud as the clacking of Ted’s typing on his keyboard.

“I don’t care what that weasel said, I want it done right this time! And if you had done what I’d told you to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!” There’s a pause as Jameson presumably listens to the person on the other line begging for mercy. “Fine. Go with the lilac. It’ll clash with your comforter, you’ll see. Don’t come crying to me when you have to buy a whole new bed set.”

Another beat of just Ted’s typing passes.

“Okay. Love you, Mom. Buh-bye.” Jameson hangs up, before yelling out the door. “HOFFMAN!”

“Yes, sir?” Ted answers quickly.

“MY 9:00 IS LATE. IT’S 9:30!”

“No, sir, he’s here sir. He’s been here since 9.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME? I COULD’VE HAVE ENDED THIS CONVERSATION SOONER. MAKE A NOTE OF THAT, HOFFMAN.”

“Yes, sir. Will do, sir.”

“NEXT TIME, INTERRUPT MY PHONE CALL. STICK YOUR HEAD IN HERE. GIVE ME A SIGNAL.” He sighs. “Okay. Send him in.”

Ted looks over. “You can go on in. Good luck.”

Peter falters for a moment, wondering if he’s really willing to go through with this.

No. He is. MJ was more than worth it.

He says a quick, “Thank you,” before walking in to the lion’s den.

Jameson sits at his desk, looking up briefly, chewing on an unlit cigar. “Well, quit your dawdling, get in here.”

Peter picks up the pace.

The man glares at him for an uncomfortable few moments, sizing him up, before extending his hand. “You got the video?” He asks, skipping introductions entirely.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” Peter swallows, handing him the drive.

Jameson hums. “I was expecting someone… More… professional.”

It’s then that Peter realizes he’d left his apartment without even combing his hair or brushing his teeth. He hadn’t even bothered put on deodorant or to change out of his The Mighty Thorgi t-shirt. He’s wearing a pair of the day before yesterday’s and yesterday’s jeans, and to make matters worse, he’s wearing two different shoes; one grey converse and one blue.

“You homeless or something? Because there’s a soup kitchen around here.” Jameson spends the next few moments trying to plug in the USB to his computer, flipping it over and over. “Damn thing. HOFFMAN!”

Ted practically sprints in. “Yes, sir?”

Peter tries to speak. “I can do it if you—”

“—Don’t patronize me, kid,” Jameson snaps. “Hoffman. Plug this in.”

Peter watches in silence as Jameson’s expression never changes as the video plays out on his computer. Peter knows what’s on the video, he knows it by heart, in fact. He fought in it. When the video ends, Jameson leans back, his blank expression now seems thoughtful.

“I’m gonna give it to you straight kid,” He says. “It’s a good video. Now I can send this down to my lab nerds. They can calculate the exact amount of time that Spider-Man’s in a full frame. I’m guessing it’s gonna be around $120 to $150. But, that’s if we give you credit, of course. If you wanna sign the rights of this video over to us, we’re looking at, say, $350 upfront. You won’t be credited, though.”

To Peter, that actually sounds pretty good; he gets a good amount of money, more than he thought, and his name won’t be tied to his alter-ego. It’s a win-win. “Oh, yeah! That sounds great!”

Jameson’s smile is shark-like. “Great. HOFFMAN! GET ME CONTRACT A27!”

“Do you mean A63, sir?” Ted asks from the door, contract already in hand, placing it on the desk.

“Yes, yes of course. A63.” Jameson shakes his head. “Can’t get decent help around here,” he mutters.

Peter signs where Ted indicates. Jameson signs the last page and hands back the contract.

“I’ll be back with your copy,” Hoffman says as he exits the room.

Jameson then opens his drawer, retrieving a thick check book and grabbing a pen. “Parker Peterson, right?”

“No, no. Just… Peter… Parker.”

As Jameson writes the check, Peter takes the time to take in the office around him, his eyes drawn immediately to the portrait on the desk. His stomach drops as he realizes who it is.

No doubt about it.

That’s a picture of his girlfriend.

Why is there a picture of MJ… on Jameson’s desk?

“Pretty, isn’t she?”

Jameson’s voice startles Peter, and he looks over, the older man glaring right into him. “Huh?” Peter asks.

“She’s pretty, right? It’s okay. You can say she’s pretty. Beautiful even.”

Peter nods, voice soft. “Yeah. Really beautiful.” And he means it, more than anything, nervous as he is; MJ is the most beautiful person he’s ever known.

With the flick of his wrist, Jameson deliberately flips the portrait away from Peter.

In the amount of time Peter’s been in the office, Jameson has had two volumes: Loud and VERY LOUD. There seems to be a third setting, however. In a hushed, threatening tone, Jameson seethes. “Listen here, kid. I don’t need no smelly, grubby, unemployed jackass drooling all over my daughter.”

Wait, what?!

Fuck.

“I don’t know what thoughts were going through your sick little mind, but that’s my little girl, and I will be damned if she fuels your pervy little spank bank! Do I make myself clear?”

Oh, if only he knew...

Even though Peter could easily take down the older man, he still finds himself shrinking back slightly.

He nods profusely. “Yes, sir, of course sir.”

“Good.” Jameson roughly shoves the check at Peter. “Now get the hell out of my office.”

Peter doesn’t need to be told twice as he dashes through the door, nearly running past Hoffman who expertly passes him the contract copy.

“Have a nice day!” Hoffman calls as Peter disappears down the hallway.

--

Omw, the text read from MJ.

Luckily, Peter had already planned for arrival; the apartment’s clean, the floors vacuumed, Febreez has been sprayed. Conditions were perfect. All he needed to do now was sit and wait, mindlessly tapping his fingers against his thigh, the events from earlier replaying in his head on some kind of torturous loop.

The sound of the key turning the lock fifteen minutes later had his pulse quickening. She was here. “I brought Chinese!” She called as she set the bags down on the dining room table.

Peter cuts right to the chase, barely lasting a second. “So. I met your dad today.”

MJ nearly drops the lo mein, her eyes blown wide. “Oh my God.”

Peter shrugs.

“I am so. So. Sorry.”

He tilts his head a fraction, brows wrinkling in confusion. “Why?”

“I don’t know how he find out,” She says, almost to herself. “I tried to keep this— us— hidden from him. He chases away any guy who comes close to me; friend, colleague… One time a teacher said I was a remarkable student and he— It doesn’t matter. I’ve tried explaining this hetero-normative, misogynistic bullshit to him, but it just goes right over his head. He’s always had this… toxic paternity complex. Like, I know that he loves me, I guess, but that’s no excuse.” She folds her arms across her chest, glancing away, her eyes welling in frustration. “And I just didn’t want him to scare you away.”

Peter puts his hands on her arms. “Woahwoahwoahwoah. Hey. It’s okay.” She looks up at him. “He doesn’t know about us. I just went to the Bugle today to sell a video of Spider-Man… and I saw your picture on his desk.”

Relief washes over her, and she puts a hand on her chest. “Oh, thank God.”

“Nothing to worry about.” Peter grins, before growing confused again, expression crinkling. “I thought your last name was Jones?”

“It is.”

“Then…?”

“So’s my Mom’s,” she elaborates. “They just never got married. Or stayed together, really.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Peter nods.

A comfortable silence fills the room, the food on the table surely getting colder by the minute. But MJ finds that her curiosity is growing too strong. She has to know.

“What did he say?”

Peter snorts, face scrunching as he scratches the back of his neck. “A lot. He totally freaked out when I said you were pretty.”

“He yelled at you for saying I was pretty?”

“Well… It wasn’t really yelling. Just angry whispering. And...” Peter turns bashful. “I said you were beautiful.”

A small smile cracks MJ’s expression, and she looks back down at their now intertwined hands. “Gross.”

“I know.” He cups her cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin there as he stares deeply into her eyes. He leans in, placing a loving, lingering kiss against her lips. As he pulls away, they both sigh. “Just so you know…” He starts, voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes gaze adoringly into his; she’s not even trying to hide how mushy she feels at this moment.

“You’re always the star of my spank bank.”

“Wait, What?”

#spideychelle #spideychelleweek2k19 #peter parker x michelle jones #petermj #fic #ahhhhhh here it is!! #hope you enjoy!

[toknowyoumore]

spoiler: it was a terrible idea... but i feel good

I’m gonna try a little something, and this could either be a kinda good or absolutely terrible idea. I need to write something important, but I’m not in a writing mood right now, at least for the topics I need to write about. But I know I’m at least a decent writer when it comes to things I do like writing about. That’s why I’m going to drink a fair amount of alcohol to get my creative juices flowing - and also to get me to sleep earlier than 5 am. I’m probably gonna take this down once I submit the actual thing.

Jameson and Canada Dry on the rocks pls glub glub glub

Okay, let’s start.

Growing up with a single mother wasn’t the easiest thing, especially when I heard her screams of pain in the early morning when I was in fifth grade. My mother was diagnosed with breast and brain cancer. Though I didn’t know at the time, my parents were separated. But I still remember the first time walking into the hospital with my dad and seeing Mom on the hospital bed. I remember her stopping midway during our conversation because she lost the ability to breathe. I remember not being in a panic but rather in confusion when my dad told me to go out and get a nurse to help immediately. And in about a minute, a nurse saw a 11-year-old child asking for help for his mom who wasn’t breathing. I remember seeing my mother in the room again afterwards - except now with some sort of breathing machine. I know now that that machine is called a ventilator.

Living was confusing after that. I didn’t know how to feel. I remember being scared at some points but not deathly afraid. I didn’t entertain the thought of Mom passing because the thought just wasn’t real to me. (Spoiler alert, she didn’t, and she’s still in top condition today despite a number of tumors throughout the years. I promise this won’t be a sappy story.) Or maybe I just didn’t correctly process my thoughts and emotions. Was there even a correct way? Maybe all of this just led to me becoming who I am now?

Fourth wall break - okay, so this was a terrible idea. I’m going so off track, and this whole thing was supposed to highlight my good side, but screw it, I’m gonna keep going with this and see where it leads. Before we continue, another glass pls glub glub glub thank you - fourth wall unbreak.

The purpose of me writing that story was to talk about a childhood experience and an example of how I overcame adversity. But now that I’ve arrived to this part of the page, I can’t really think of how I really overcame adversity here. Sure, I got through a hardship that would be difficult for any child, but I don’t remember ever being in deep anguish. In normal terms, this experience would make one more aware of the tribulations in the world and ultimately become more human. But somehow - thinking back to this moment - I’m being hit from all directions with, “It made you less human.” A human would typically mourn from this. I really didn’t, or at least I don’t think I did.

I got lazy. My grandmother took care of me at that point, but she didn’t force me to go to school. I almost had to repeat fifth grade because I had so many absences.

If someone wrote about this experience in their college essay, you may see something like, “From this, I took responsibility and started taking care of myself, building my time management skills and independence.” Nope, none of that here. I was an 11-year-old only child with a grandmother who struggled to walk up the stairs.

I barely had any actual friends in my elementary school, middle school, and most of high school. By “actual friends,” I mean people who I’d talk or chill with out of school. My only community really was my church. Even though we don’t see each other now as often or we’ve drifted apart, something special still resides in those bonds. Despite how I feel about the church and Christianity now, I know for a fact that the friends I had there made my life worthwhile. It’s what made me more human. It’s what got me through adversity.

It’s not about what I did that lifted me up. There wasn’t some switch that I just activated by myself in my brain that suddenly pushed me to take responsibility, start caring for my family, and being a decent person. It wasn’t me; it was my friends. I would always be inspired by them - their words, their actions, even their humor. I wanted to be like them. And over time, I think I changed for the better. And even today, I’ve been making it a goal - maybe even my top goal - to be a decent human being to others.

Fast forward to senior year of high school, when I’m applying to colleges. The common motif of myself and everybody on the planet - say it with me now, “I want to help people.” Who doesn’t? But how? The medical field was something that, to be honest, never really held my interest much back in high school. Some elements of being a medical doctor were appealing to me, though I just wasn’t very gung-ho about the entire thing. I apply to a local university as a safety because I know all my friends were going there, and in my back of my mind, I knew I was too. The local university allows me to apply to multiple schools of varying professions within itself. I apply to its pharmacy school on a whim. I get wait-listed. I then get accepted. My senior year crush decides to go to the same school. And before life offered me the pros and cons, I was a pharmacy student.

There is one big con I should mention though: I knew nothing about pharmacy. I didn’t care a lick about it. No one in my family is a pharmacist. I didn’t really have a “want” to do it. There was no reason for me to pursue it. The only reason I did have was that I could drop out of the program in two years if I didn’t like it without any repercussions. It was strategically sound.

Two years later, I still wasn’t sure about my decision. But just like the last two years flew by, the next one did. And then the next one. And then the next after that. There was never any love for pharmacy. It was, “study for this exam, take the exam, study for that exam, take that exam, memorize a script for this practical, ace the practical, start joining pharmacy organizations, don’t attend the meetings.” My interests during college were elsewhere. They were in leading worship, learning how to help people with depression, and hanging out with my friends, which were all amazing things. But pharmacy still had little room for passion in my life.

Then one year ago, in January 2018, things started to change. It was my last semester taking classes and exams. My rotation schedule for the next year was arranged. Pharmacy was suddenly starting to become much realer to me. Internal medicine, cardiology, emergency department, transitions of care - it was a lot. But for the first time, it didn’t feel like a drag. Rather, it felt like something I knew I had to do, however daunting it initially felt. And I wanted to excel at it. I asked early for extra projects. I went to networking events, which I never even thought about going to. I did things that were outside of my original scope of simply getting a pharmacy degree. I interviewed for a volunteer position at a clinic, where only two students would get accepted, and got it. I attended a class and got certified for mental health first aid, which literally no one told me to do. I quit my job at CVS. I borrowed a book from a local library to study for a certification exam, which I passed, to help me get a job elsewhere. I applied for jobs, which I didn’t get. I asked on a whim to shadow one of my professors at a behavioral health facility for a day and ended up with another research project on my hands to work on over the weekends. That semester was also the first time I was actually looking forward to a class - two to be exact: “Neuropsychiatric Therapeutics” and “Concepts in Psychiatric Pharmacotherapy.” My interests in mental health and pharmacy were colliding.

To this day, I still don’t know what happened. Maybe it was the rush of sweet change that got me working harder. Or maybe it was the “real world” that was finally looming over the horizon, and I wanted to quickly pack some stuff into my resume. Surely, there were some moments in that semester that I faked passion for pharmacy for the sake of making myself look better. But all of a sudden, pharmacy was starting to become more than just something that consumed my life every day with notes and exams. And for some bizarre reason, I was beginning to enjoy it. 

There was no one who turned on my switch, no one who told me to take initiative - yet I was acting as if some sort of external force was pushing me to take leaps as a student. But there wasn’t.

My interests were finally lining up with what I was studying for about five years, and I was starting to take things into my hands to make it that way even more. Yes, that is why I was, at last, beginning to take hold a new passion for a profession that I never thought of myself being in. The interest in helping people, in being a decent human being, that I’ve built over the years because of my friends, my church - they were becoming tangible. There was no need for someone to flip a switch in my head. Something like this didn’t really need one.

And that’s what I’m hoping I could do. Whether that’d be now as a student or in the future as a pharmacist, I want to inspire others the same way that my friends inspired me in my past, to fuel people’s interests and motivations that they may not even know they have. The truth is, you’re helping people all the time. You don’t just have to be counseling them on a medication. And you don’t just have to be giving them a vaccination. You help people in your everyday actions and conversations. Every word of encouragement, every piece of advice, every lighthearted joke has a way of changing one’s life for the better. And as for yourself, you become a little bit closer to becoming that “decent human being.” Pharmacy is just one path - the path that I’ve taken - to help me to reach that goal.

There are still some things I fake, of course. Besides, I don’t know if this road ahead for me is the best one. But writing all this out - it’s clear I’ve come a long way already. And I know that even if this path doesn’t necessarily work, I’ll still probably learn something. Hopefully, at least. 

Not the most horrible idea. But it’s still terrible because this goes so off-track about the topics I’m supposed to write for my real thing. Nevertheless, I feel pretty good about what I wrote. Also, it’s 5 am. The alcohol didn’t help with that at all.

[insidethegiftbasket]

Mid-Season Report Card: Starting Pitchers

Gerrit Cole: B-

As bad as the last month has been, he’s still maybe the AL Cy Young frontrunner? He’s leading the AL in strikeouts and strikeout to walk ratio, his 3.6 bWAR is second among AL pitchers (behind Kyle Gibson), and he’s in the top 10 in almost every major category. The elephant in the room is clearly the “sticky stuff” issue:

Obviously his spin rate is down (fastball in June was 400rpm lower than April) but he’s also had some mechanical issues since the crackdown, and either the lack of sticky stuff effecting his fastball or the book being out on it more has led to his change up falling off a cliff:

He’s also increased his fastball usage with two strikes and is throwing more fastballs in the strike zone with two strikes since the crackdown. I still gave him a B- because if you looked at his overall stat line you’d be thrilled, but I think there are obviously concerns about what Cole is like without the advantage of additional substances. He’ll still be good pitcher without it, but at the very least there’ll be a learning curve for him.

Domingo German: C+

Considering he missed an entire season (due to his own issues) the fact he’s been essentially the same pitcher that he was in 2019 is pretty remarkable. He’s really run into a few issues (unsurprisingly, the same issues he’s had throughout his career):

Like a few of the guys, he’s sucked the first time through, and has gotten better the deeper he goes in games.

He’s also been garbage in the Bronx, giving up 13 homers in 37.2 innings.

Lastly, his curveball has actually been really good! But his fastball has been awful.

I think you’d take this season from Domingo since he hasn’t pitched in a year and a half, and he hasn’t been the biggest issue in the rotation, but at this point I think Domingo is who he is. I’d also expect him to start performing worse considering it was the end of July in 2019 when he got tired and his stuff fell off a cliff, and I can’t imagine he’s going to be good for 180 innings this year.

Corey Kluber: D-

Kluber was good this year when he pitched, but he once again got injured. Yes it’s cool he threw a no hitter and was one of the better pitchers in baseball in May, but none of that is really going to matter since he will unlikely pitch a big game for the Yankees this year.

Mike King: B

King as a reliever—really good! King as a starter—really bad! Overall, pretty solid season for him so far.

His big issue as a starter is the fact that he has stunk starting the game off. He’s talked about how he wants to change his approach to start off games because he’s giving off less looks early in games to set guys up for later, but he’s been throwing batting practice in the first inning:

Overall, for someone that’s not really that great, he’s at least earned a role with the team and may end up getting to the 100 innings he wanted to pitch this year.

Jordan Montgomery: C-

Jordan’s been good at home, bad on the road, but considering he’s two years removed from his Tommy John surgery, I really wished that he would make a step up this season to the promise he had as a rookie, but at this point I think it’s fair to say Gumby is who he is.

The home stats are great, the road stats are not so good. He’s allowing a low exit velocity (87mph) and is in the 65th percentile in xOBP, but I think at this point he is what it is, which is a fifth starter.

His fastball and cutter are really bad. The change and curveball have been great, and he’s done a good job pitching backwards, but the fastballs are just awful.

Jameson Taillon: C-

Taillon’s overall numbers don’t look great, but considering he missed nearly two years, there’s some promising stuff in there. The big issue for Jamo is that he has been awful the later in games he pitches:

There’s two issues he’s running into there, one of which is worrying and one is fine — the first issue is that he’s just missed so much time and is just building himself back up. This year was always going to be a build-up year, with the hope that in 2022 he’d be a good #3 option for the team. The worrisome issue is that he’s essentially a two pitch pitcher without any other looks he can give guys, which is also leading to him getting crushed the second and third time through the order:

If he can’t get a third pitch to use against lefties and righties, then he’s probably destined to a bullpen role.

#Yankees #New York Yankees #Pitching #Midseason Report Card #We suck

[linabrigette]

To Scale Bitcoin, Little Improvements Will Need to Go a Long Way

Kaizen.

The Japanese word for “improvement,” and as it relates to business, it’s the philosophy of continuous improvement on working practices. And with that as the tagline for the fifth edition of bitcoin engineering conference Scaling Bitcoin, it became a perfect way to summarize what’s happening today among the cryptocurrency’s developer ecosystem.

With the scaling debate coming to a head last year – and ending with a group of big block supporting enthusiasts breaking off to form competing cryptocurrency bitcoin cash and bitcoin getting the long-awaited code upgrade Segregated Witness (SegWit) – this year’s Scaling Bitcoin conference just didn’t have the flair that perhaps past events had.

What seemed pulled from another piece of the kaizen philosophy – the notion of eliminating waste for a lean business – many of the talks over the two-day conference held at Keio University in Tokyo revolved around little updates that could make a big difference in terms of efficiency of the network.

From figuring out what to do with the vast amount of so-called dust (an output with tiny pieces of a bitcoin in them, small enough that the fees for sending eclipse the amount sent) on the network to fine-tuning the lightning network, Scaling Bitcoin seemed to present a much more relaxed and focused developer community.

Jameson Lopp, a bitcoin developer and engineer at bitcoin security startup Casa, agreed.

“Most of the presentations were of small improvements that seem fairly likely to be implemented, which is arguably preferable to huge overhauls that promise significant improvements but add a lot of complexity and would be contentious,” he told BTC News Today, adding:

“Lots of small improvements add up over time too large improvements.”

Still, that doesn’t mean the several hundred developers, academics and Japanese technology enthusiasts in attendance weren’t reminded about the potential of the protocol.

During Keio University professor Jun Murai’s opening keynote, he pointed out that in 2000, only 6 percent of the world population was using the internet, but by 2017, more than 54 percent of the global population was online.

“When you are developing for the bitcoin scale, this is what you have to see and to think,” Murai said.

Sweep up the dust

One area of small improvements that several presentations touched on was the massive amount of UTXOs, or unspent transaction outputs – especially those holding bitcoin dust.

For Sergi Delgado Segura, a cryptocurrency researcher at the Autonomous University of Barcelona, the question is “how many unspent outputs are actually worth spending; how much space is devoted to storing not-worth-spending outputs?”

Looking at the question with 110 satoshi’s per byte in mind, according to Segura, about 50 percent of UTXOs are actually dust – meaning those pieces of bitcoin are unlikely to ever be spent.

“This is nothing new; this has been going on since the beginning of the coin,” he said, although, added: “We are reaching a certain point where this is becoming a real problem.”

For instance, the same research was applied to litecoin and Segura found that almost 80 percent of UTXOs are dust.

This becomes a problem namely for user’s ability to run a full node, especially in low resource devices (like general purpose laptops). By storing all these “unprofitable” UTXOs on the blockchain, full nodes must download and store all this data, even though it’s nearly useless.

As bitcoin attracts more users, Segura said, the amount of dust-based UTXOs will grow, and it will grow unbounded because that’s how the system was built. While Segura said that’s not because anyone did anything wrong, there does need to be some real thought put into the proposals out there to mitigate this.

For one, Segura said, everyone should be consolidating outputs when fees are low – like they are right now. Secondly, a good coin selection algorithm, which decides which bits of date come together to create a user’s bitcoin transaction, will also help.

There are other proposals for this problem as well.

For instance, Benedikt Bunz proposed using RSA accumulators, a cryptographic one-way function that answers a query about something without revealing all the individual data points that were used to come to that answer.

While Merkle trees have been utilized in the past to allow clients to check that an unspent UTXO is being used without sending the client the entire state of the blockchain, RSA accumulators could be a more efficient replacement.

During a Bitcoin Core (the most popular bitcoin software) developer meeting on Monday, October 8, Tadge Dryja, a developer and the co-author of the lightning network paper, proposed a similar thing.

Instead of RSA accumulators – which he said are “unproven” – he’s working on a hash-based accumulator whereby the hash of each UTXO is stored, decreasing the amount of storage by half. Plus, instead of storing all the hashes of every UTXO, Dryja wondered whether storing some “compact representation,” or aggregated bundle of the UTXOs with their proofs would be less cumbersome.

According to Lopp, cleaning up the UTXO architecture has been discussed on and off for about six years, and hopefully, with the concept of accumulators, something can be implemented that’s efficient.

Praise for layer two

As the lightning network gains momentum, it’s no surprise that the layer-two scaling technology for pushing transactions off-chain got a significant amount of time.

On day two of the conference, lightning had its own category – representing three talks that covered rebalancing (or the idea of closing a channel after a number of transactions have been performed) of lightning network channels; lightning benchmarks; and incentivizing watchtowers, the entities responsible for watching lightning channels to make sure no fraud occurs.

But on top of that, other layer-two solutions got attention as well.

For instance, in the incredibly fast-talking style Olaoluwa “Laolu” Osuntokun has become known for, the respected developer and co-founder of Lightning Labs, spoke about payment channels more broadly.

And not only just a one-to-one payment channel but multi-party payment channels and channels upon channels.

One such topic was so-called “channel factories,” which Laolu defined as “a layered set of transactions of intermediate transactions” – so multi-party channels layered on each other, each with their own way of validating transactions.

He also spoke about route tunneling, or the ability to connect to users on other layers of the multi-party channel in order to create a specific channel with them.

Speaking about this idea, Laolu said:

“It’s sort of like a new dimension or a new underworld and you can tunnel them into the third dimension which I think is pretty cool.”

This, he said, could be used if, for instance, “the liquidity wasn’t sufficient for selling stickers or whatever is cool these days, I can advertise shortcut routes that tunnel through channel formation. We are able to create new channels in seconds to satisfy directional flow above ground.”

Other layer-two solutions that were touched on at the conference include statechains and a bitcoin bridge called Niji.

Speaking to another difference between this year’s Scaling Bitcoin and subsequent year’s, Lopp said, it was the focus on lightning and the idea that “in general it is going to be easier to make changes to second layers because changes don’t require the same level of consensus if at all.”

Scaling Bitcoin badge on computer image via BTC News Today

The leader in blockchain news, BTC News Today is a media outlet that strives for the highest journalistic standards and abides by a strict set of editorial policies. BTC News Today is an independent operating subsidiary of Digital Currency Group, which invests in cryptocurrencies and blockchain startups.

The post To Scale Bitcoin, Little Improvements Will Need to Go a Long Way appeared first on BTC News Today.

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#Cryptocurrency news #Bitcoin news #btcoin price today

[click2watch]

To Scale Bitcoin, Little Improvements Will Need to Go a Long Way

Kaizen.

The Japanese word for “improvement,” and as it relates to business, it’s the philosophy of continuous improvement on working practices. And with that as the tagline for the fifth edition of bitcoin engineering conference Scaling Bitcoin, it became a perfect way to summarize what’s happening today among the cryptocurrency’s developer ecosystem.

With the scaling debate coming to a head last year – and ending with a group of big block supporting enthusiasts breaking off to form competing cryptocurrency bitcoin cash and bitcoin getting the long-awaited code upgrade Segregated Witness (SegWit) – this year’s Scaling Bitcoin conference just didn’t have the flair that perhaps past events had.

What seemed pulled from another piece of the kaizen philosophy – the notion of eliminating waste for a lean business – many of the talks over the two-day conference held at Keio University in Tokyo revolved around little updates that could make a big difference in terms of efficiency of the network.

From figuring out what to do with the vast amount of so-called dust (an output with tiny pieces of a bitcoin in them, small enough that the fees for sending eclipse the amount sent) on the network to fine-tuning the lightning network, Scaling Bitcoin seemed to present a much more relaxed and focused  developer community.

Jameson Lopp, a bitcoin developer and engineer at bitcoin security startup Casa, agreed.

“Most of the presentations were of small improvements that seem fairly likely to be implemented, which is arguably preferable to huge overhauls that promise significant improvements but add a lot of complexity and would be contentious,” he told CoinDesk, adding:

“Lots of small improvements add up over time too large improvements.”

Still, that doesn’t mean the several hundred developers, academics and Japanese technology enthusiasts in attendance weren’t reminded about the potential of the protocol.

During Keio University professor Jun Murai’s opening keynote, he pointed out that in 2000, only 6 percent of the world population was using the internet, but by 2017, more than 54 percent of the global population was online.

“When you are developing for the bitcoin scale, this is what you have to see and to think,” Murai said.

Sweep up the dust

One area of small improvements that several presentations touched on was the massive amount of UTXOs, or unspent transaction outputs – especially those holding bitcoin dust.

For Sergi Delgado Segura, a cryptocurrency researcher at the Autonomous University of Barcelona, the question is “how many unspent outputs are actually worth spending; how much space is devoted to storing not-worth-spending outputs?”

Looking at the question with 110 satoshi’s per byte in mind, according to Segura, about 50 percent of UTXOs are actually dust – meaning those pieces of bitcoin are unlikely to ever be spent.

“This is nothing new; this has been going on since the beginning of the coin,” he said, although, added: “We are reaching a certain point where this is becoming a real problem.”

For instance, the same research was applied to litecoin and Segura found that almost 80 percent of UTXOs are dust.

This becomes a problem namely for user’s ability to run a full node, especially in low resource devices (like general purpose laptops). By storing all these “unprofitable” UTXOs on the blockchain, full nodes must download and store all this data, even though it’s nearly useless.

As bitcoin attracts more users, Segura said, the amount of dust-based UTXOs will grow, and it will grow unbounded because that’s how the system was built. While Segura said that’s not because anyone did anything wrong, there does need to be some real thought put into the proposals out there to mitigate this.

For one, Segura said, everyone should be consolidating outputs when fees are low – like they are right now. Secondly, a good coin selection algorithm, which decides which bits of date come together to create a user’s bitcoin transaction, will also help.

There are other proposals for this problem as well.

For instance, Benedikt Bunz proposed using RSA accumulators, a cryptographic one-way function that answers a query about something without revealing all the individual data points that were used to come to that answer.

While Merkle trees have been utilized in the past to allow clients to check that an unspent UTXO is being used without sending the client the entire state of the blockchain, RSA accumulators could be a more efficient replacement.

During a Bitcoin Core (the most popular bitcoin software) developer meeting on Monday, October 8, Tadge Dryja, a developer and the co-author of the lightning network paper, proposed a similar thing.

Instead of RSA accumulators – which he said are “unproven” – he’s working on a hash-based accumulator whereby the hash of each UTXO is stored, decreasing the amount of storage by half. Plus, instead of storing all the hashes of every UTXO, Dryja wondered whether storing some “compact representation,” or aggregated bundle of the UTXOs with their proofs would be less cumbersome.

According to Lopp, cleaning up the UTXO architecture has been discussed on and off for about six years, and hopefully, with the concept of accumulators, something can be implemented that’s efficient.

Praise for layer two

As the lightning network gains momentum, it’s no surprise that the layer-two scaling technology for pushing transactions off-chain got a significant amount of time.

On day two of the conference, lightning had its own category – representing three talks that covered rebalancing (or the idea of closing a channel after a number of transactions have been performed) of lightning network channels; lightning benchmarks; and incentivizing watchtowers, the entities responsible for watching lightning channels to make sure no fraud occurs.

But on top of that, other layer-two solutions got attention as well.

For instance, in the incredibly fast-talking style Olaoluwa “Laolu” Osuntokun has become known for, the respected developer and co-founder of Lightning Labs, spoke about payment channels more broadly.

And not only just a one-to-one payment channel but multi-party payment channels and channels upon channels.

One such topic was so-called “channel factories,” which Laolu defined as “a layered set of transactions of intermediate transactions” – so multi-party channels layered on each other, each with their own way of validating transactions.

He also spoke about route tunneling, or the ability to connect to users on other layers of the multi-party channel in order to create a specific channel with them.

Speaking about this idea, Laolu said:

“It’s sort of like a new dimension or a new underworld and you can tunnel them into the third dimension which I think is pretty cool.”

This, he said, could be used if, for instance, “the liquidity wasn’t sufficient for selling stickers or whatever is cool these days, I can advertise shortcut routes that tunnel through channel formation. We are able to create new channels in seconds to satisfy directional flow above ground.”

Other layer-two solutions that were touched on at the conference include statechains and a bitcoin bridge called Niji.

Speaking to another difference between this year’s Scaling Bitcoin and subsequent year’s, Lopp said, it was the focus on lightning and the idea that “in general it is going to be easier to make changes to second layers because changes don’t require the same level of consensus if at all.”

Scaling Bitcoin badge on computer image via CoinDesk

The leader in blockchain news, CoinDesk is a media outlet that strives for the highest journalistic standards and abides by a strict set of editorial policies. CoinDesk is an independent operating subsidiary of Digital Currency Group, which invests in cryptocurrencies and blockchain startups.

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[westcorkcooperage-blog]

Ger buckley,Master cooper  Jameson.

The Man Who Makes Irish Whiskey Barrels

by

Margaret Eby

If you're a fan of whiskey, you've also got a deep investment in barrels, whether you know it or not. It might sound hyperbolic, but it's true: Without barrels, there would be no whiskey as we know it. Aging in wooden casks is what gives the spirit much of its flavor, and so the care, maintenance, and sourcing of those barrels is a crucial element of any distillery. Just ask Ger Buckley, who, for almost 40 years, has served as the Master Cooper (read: barrel-maker) at Jameson's distillery in Midleton, Ireland.

You'd be hard-pressed to meet someone more enthusiastic or knowledgeable about the history and construction of whiskey barrels than Buckley. He's studied every aspect of cooperage, from its history (cask making dates back to the Pharoahs in Egypt) to the forestry conditions that produce the best kind of wood for constructing barrels. He even keeps an eye out for barrels in pop culture: the Game of Thrones barrels, Buckley says, all have wooden hoops on them rather than the steel ones of the industrial revolution, consistent for the economic climate of Westeros.

RELATED: Why More People are Investing in the Whiskey Boom

Buckley is a fifth generation cooper — or as he noted, "fifth generation that I can prove," though his family's involvement in the barrel-making industry likely dates to the early 19th century. He's one of a very small group of full-time professional coopers in Ireland. At the turn of the 20th century, there were, Buckley estimates, around 10,000 coopers operating in Ireland, constructing everything from beer barrels to household items like butter churns. Now, by his count, there are just four coopers operating in the entire country.

Buckley began his apprenticeship for the trade when he was 17 under the watchful eye of his father, learning the nuances of mending and crafting casks. "He was a really good cooper, and I'm not just saying that because he’s my father," Buckley said. "He had four or five apprentices in his lifetime, which is an indication of the quality of his work." Buckley’s father was also a cooper at one of the distilleries in the Jameson family, so he's been in a distillery for all of his working life.

The barrels that Jameson uses aren’t made from scratch, thanks in part to an Irish timber shortage in the 19th and 18th centuries. Instead, the distillery imports two kinds of barrels: sherry casks from Spain and bourbon barrels from Kentucky. Every bottle of Jameson is a mixture of the whiskeys aged in those two kinds of casks, balanced to get the characteristic notes of vanilla and spice. (Irish law requires the spirit to be aged at least three years before it can officially claim the title "whiskey.") Buckley inspects every cask that comes into the distillery, examining them for damage or flaws in the wood grain that would affect the taste of the whiskey or the integrity of the barrel, and then brings any flawed candidates back into the cooperage to mend.

Jameson's cooperage is a large, sawdust-sprinkled room filled with hundreds of barrels in various stages of repair. The only materials allowed in the construction of the casks are timber, for the barrels, and steel, for the hoops: No glue, no silicone, only the occasional river reed to help seal the top of the barrel. Once barrels are filled, they swell to accommodate the whiskey and become watertight. But the slightest flaw in the barrel making — an imprecisely angled stave, a weakness in the timber — means that the barrel could leak its valuable contents. It’s an exacting process. After all, the liquid inside the barrels has to stay put in order to age, sometimes upwards of a decade. "The whiskey won’t lie to you," Buckley said. "It’ll stay in or it won’t."

Some of the tools that Buckley learned to use are the same ones — not the same kind, mind you, the exact same ones — that his grandfather used. In his cooperage, Buckley displayed an iron tool with the number "1" that was passed down from his father, used to mark the barrel so coopers could distinguish whose work they were looking at. Other tools were so specific to the trade, like a compass used to measure the circumference of the top of a cask, that coopers had to learn to make the instrument themselves, sometimes requiring making another separate tool. Buckley inherited these tools as other coopers retired, and uses many of them to demonstrate technique. It's an impressive collection — they look like something out of Moby Dick — and it makes his workspace feel like a living museum, loving tribute to the craft.

RELATED: Canadian Whisky makes a Big Comeback

But now, for the first time in his 39 years at Jameson, Buckley isn't worried that the craft he's worked so hard to hone will die out. Two years ago, the distillery brought on an apprentice. "It's a rare thing that you meet a cooper, and it's rarer still that you meet an apprentice," Buckley said. (Buckley's daughters didn't take a shine to the craft themselves, though he notes that there have also been female coopers over the years.)

The time investment to become a cooper is no small commitment: Four years, with the understanding that you'll stay at the distillery for pretty much the arc of your career. But Buckley has been training an apprentice for the last two years, sending him to various other distilleries to absorb the techniques at cooperages around the world. "And then he'll come back and we show him the proper, Irish way," Buckley laughed. "But it’s a great thing. For the first time I can say, 'I won’t be the last of the coopers.'"

[exiled225]

Your Secret Admirer

 (Wrote a thing for a writer’s group. Unedited and rough and almost assuredly garbage)

It was a hot summer night but when Matt pressed the barrel of the .38 to his temple, the metal was cold enough to send a shiver down his spine. In just a few seconds, all of this would be over. Just a little bit of pressure. That’s all you need to find yourself at this point: just a little bit of pressure.

He was alone in his Westchester apartment. Alone, but surrounded by all of his friends. Evan, Jim, Jack, Jameson; they were all scattered about his studio, drained and empty. Evan, having been flung into the heavy wooden door of his closet, was shattered and strewn around the floor. It was the last thing Matt did before crawling underneath his bed, blowing away months, maybe even years of dust to find the shoe box that contained the very thing that he holds to his temple, the very thing that even on a muggy summer night was able to chill him to the bone.

How good it is, to have friends here, Matt mused.The gang was all here to watch the ugly ducking swan dive into the barrel. Six rounds. He’d only need the one, but Matt was a planner. A thinker, right to the end. He could never, ever leave anything to chance. Always thinking of the what ifs, of the what thens. So six bullets, just in case the first, second, third, fourth or fifth somehow all managed to fail. Always planning six steps ahead. One of them, he thought, will leave the thinkers thoughts splattered on the freshly painted wall of his studio. He thought of leaving a note to his landlord, an apology. Always apologizing. He then however, thought better of it. After all, what could he say? “Excuse all the blood?”

When Matt pressed the gun to his head, time stood still. With his eyes closed and the weight of the piece in his hand, he could have been sitting on the freshly cleaned sheets of his queen sized bed for a moment, or for an eternity.

It was when he cocked the hammer back, the click, sounding just like it did in the movies, that he became aware. The final tick of the clock, no tock to be heard. Subconsciously, he found himself humming the tune of “Happy Birthday”. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear, Matty. Happy birthday-

His finger rested on the trigger and he opened his eyes one final time; one last glimpse at the empty, dark and lonely life that he was about to leave behind and that’s when he saw it.

Even in the dark of the summer night, he could see it resting on the floor; surrounded by the glass pieces of Evan’s bottle twinkling in the moonlight. A white rectangle that he never noticed before. His puzzlement was enough to take the cold steel of the gun away from the side of his head and he shambled, on drunken legs to the closet. He nearly fell to the floor in the process of picking up the envelope, a sense of vertigo threatening to throw him to the wooden floor, but Matt righted himself with a hand on the wall.

The envelope was something new; different in a dark place where everything was the same and everything was exactly as it had always been. There was no postage, no return address, not even Matt’s address. The only thing written, were the words “Happy Birthday” written in flowery letters. Haphazardly, he tore at the envelope and ripped a small piece of notebook paper out of the fold.

“Dear Matt,” the letter read, “You don’t know me. But I know you. I’ve been watching you for a long time.”

Matt squints, bleary eyed and unable to make out most of the cursive handwriting. (Who the hell writes in cursive passed the fourth grade anyway?) He skimmed the scratch, registering nothing until he gets to the words: “Love, your secret admirer”.

He looked around the studio apartment, trying to make sense of where the note came from, or who it’s from. The apartment was small and it was roughly ten feet from, the front door to the closet across from his bed. He supposes he could have kicked the envelope underfoot when he marched in from the bar and not noticed it until now. Too wrapped up in the thought of blasting his thoughts to the white painted walls. He held the paper up to squint at the writing once more, but the words blur and bleed together in his highly intoxicated state.

Someone must be fucking with him, trying to screw with him. Was it you, Jack? Or you Mr. Beam? Matt gripped the handle of the closet door tightly and pulled it open.

Inside there was nothing but a few trash bags full of clothes he wouldn’t get rid of and a broom. He slammed the door shut.

Frustrated, he crumpled the note up and tossed it across the room. His already weak legs give out, and Matt founds himself collapsing to the floor in a heap. He looks to see his friends, Jack, Jim, Jameson, and the broken Evan sparkling in the moonlight before he passed out.

  It was 9 AM when the light blared in, and Matt woke up, thirty years old and with the nastiest headache he had ever had. He face pressed against small shards of the broken Evan Williams bottle, Matt rolled over onto his back and let out a sigh. And in what felt like the hardest thing he ever had to do in his entire, now thirty years, Matt sat up.

There was a gun on the bed. Various whiskey bottles on the floor.

And envelope laying on the floor in front of his closet, new and untouched.

In his left hand, he still held the torn up shred of paper that read: “Happy Birthday” and he shook his throbbing head. His face was scratched from sleeping on glass, and the taste of vomit was lingering in the back of his throat.

Matt picked up the envelope with a trembling hand and looked the ten feet towards the still locked and deadbolted front door. Again, there was no address of any kind. Only his name, written in a flowing cursive handwriting. He tore it open and pulled out another piece of notebook paper. This note was simpler than the first. And even in his extremely hungover state, he could read it in it’s entirety.

“Dear Matt,” the note read, “You’re not alone.” That was all there was. Followed by the signature of:

“Love, your secret admirer”.

Matt set the note down in his lap and tried ran the words through the brain which despite all efforts, still remained in his skull. He studied each word carefully, trying to dissect the calligraphic penmanship.

 And as he did, another envelope skated out from underneath the closet door.    

[insidethegiftbasket]

White Sox (26-16) vs Yankees (24-19)

Friday – 7:05pm on WPIX: Carlos Rodon (5-1, 1.47 ERA) vs Jordan Montgomery (2-1, 4.75 ERA)

Saturday – 1:05pm on YES and MLBN: Dylan Cease (2-0, 2.41 ERA) vs Gerrit Cole (5-2, 2.03 ERA)

Sunday – 1:05pm on YES and MLBN: Dallas Keuchel (3-1, 4.44 ERA) vs Jameson Taillon (1-3, 5.73 ERA)

White Sox Injury Report

Jose Abreu: not on IL with knee surgery, and White Sox are “hopeful” he can give it a go this weekend

OF Eloy Jimenez: on 60 Day IL after getting pectoral surgery, expected back in late August

OF Luis Robert: on 10 Day IL with a torn hip flexor, hopeful to return this season

OF Adam Engel: on 10 Day IL with strained hamstring, no timetable for return

White Sox Pitching

Chicago’s pitching has been really good—second in baseball in ERA+ (127), and while as a team they aren’t the best in any single category, they’re consistently in the top 10 in pretty much every pitching statistic.

Starting the first game of the series is Carlos Rodon, who threw his first career no hitter earlier this season.

Rodon is having a career year this year—he was someone who always had a lot of talent, but struggled to stay healthy and be consistent. The White Sox actually non-tendered him in December, but ended up signing him for less than he would have gotten in arbitration later on as nobody else seemed to be really interested in him. The biggest change so far this season and the reason why he’s been so good?

His fastball has completely changed his career around—he didn’t have enough innings to qualify for 2020, but if he did, his 2.2 mph increase on his fastball would be the 8th biggest increase in all of baseball. All the other guys ahead of him are players bouncing back after a bad 2020 or relievers, as opposed to this being a new career high for him. His wOBA against his fastball is less than half what it was in 2019, and he’s getting nearly triple the whiff rate with it as well. His fastball had a +8 runs value in 2019, and now it’s -9, the sixth best pitch in all of baseball.

On the left there is his 2019 fastball location, on the right is his 2021 fastball location. It’s been a little higher in 2021 which helps, but the biggest difference is that in 2019 he was throwing about 91mph with low spin rate, and now he’s throwing 95mph.

Rodon has always had a good slider, but now that he can play the slider off a really nice fastball it’s become a dangerous weapon—his slider is sitting about 85mph but with nearly double the horizontal break as the average slider. Interestingly enough, he’s willing to throw the slider against both righties and lefties, although he does throw it more against lefties. He also mixes in a changeup against righties, even if it’s not good (xBA is .278 and xSLG is .348.) The dominant fastball/slider combination has been lethal against lefties. Left handed hitters are slashing a disgusting .077/.111/.077 against him with just two singles and a walk allowed this season. Righties aren’t doing much better, but still better: .176/.276/.275.

The Game Two starter is Dylan Cease, who the White Sox acquired alongside Eloy Jimenez for Jose Quintana. A highly regarded prospect, he and Michael Kopech (acquired in the Chris Sale trade) were expected to be the future aces in the South Side, but until this year he hadn’t really put it together. Last year he had a 4.01 ERA, but a 6.96 xERA as he had an extremely low .238 BABIP against. This year? Some mechanical changes have helped to make his insane arsenal of pitches live up to their potential:

Cease is mixing a four seamer with elite spin rates and can reach triple digits with an absolute hammer curveball and a wipeout slider. There’s not a lot a hitter can do when you have the stuff that he does when he can mix it well and take advantage of it, and previously he just was not doing that:

That’s his 2020 pitch location. A lot of sliders in the zone, a lot of high fastballs away from righties, and his curveball was all over the place. Compare that to 2021:

Fastball is still in the zone, but when you have the velocity and spin that Cease has you can live with that. The bigger change is that the slider is now off the plate more, making it harder to get good contact on it, and the curveball is all low but accurate—playing the huge breaking ball off the high fastball is nearly impossible to hit, especially with a nearly 20mph difference between the two pitches. This graphic is a little messy, but I think it gets the point across:

All that red? Those are 97mph fastballs with a ton of spin. The yellow, green, and purple are sliders, change ups, and curveballs going way slower and also with a ton of movement. Easy to see why it’s hard to get hits off him.

Starting Game Three is Dallas Keuchel, who’s coming off a season where he finished fifth in Cy Young voting. Last season he had a 1.99 ERA and led baseball with a .3 HR/9 rate, but his xERA was 4.27 and as noted many times- he only faced hitters from the AL and NL Central, and outside of the White Sox there was exactly one other team with a 100 wrc+ or better which was Minnesota. Keuchel has been bad this year however, with a 4.44 ERA and an xERA of 5.80, and  he has a couple really worrying signs—first percentile in K% (only striking out 11.6% of batters he faces) and is in the sixth percentile in xBA allowed. If you’re not striking guys out, you really cannot give up the kind of contact that Keuchel is letting (or the 7.6% walk rate).

That said, in his regular season career against the Yankees: 4-4 with a 2.22 ERA in eight starts, with two complete games, a shutout, and a 0.918 WHIP. That’s not even including his postseason starts, where in two of the three starts he went at least six shutout innings. So, while Keuchel has stunk this season, I’m still always going to be worried when he’s on the mound against us.

White Sox Hitting

Despite all the drama going on with LaRussa and unwritten rules and everything, and despite losing Eloy and Robert for most of the season, this is still the best lineup in baseball right now with a 115 OPS+. They are third in BA (.260), second in OBP (.347), eighth in SLG (.412), fifth in doubles (70) and sixth in triples (9). They’re also fifth in extra bases taken %, and tied for first in the percentage a runner on base scores (36% of the time.) If you like watching offenses that don’t rely on the homer, this is your team- the White Sox have only 41 homers (23rd in baseball) but are consistently putting the ball in play.

Having Yermin Mercedes, Yoan Moncada, Tim Anderson, and Nick Madrigal really help in that regards. Madrigal and Moncada don’t really have a lot of power, but both put the ball in play consistently. Mercedes has come out of nowhere to lead the majors in batting average as is putting up an All Star season as well.

Tim Anderson has been one of the most fun players in baseball to watch over the past few seasons, and he’s been the big competitor to DJ LeMahieu winning batting titles—he led the majors in 2019 with a .355 batting average, and was second in the AL last year with a .322 average. A big part of that success is his batted ball types:

He’s able to spread the ball out across the field (with a ton of balls directly up the middle, isn’t popping the ball up (which is a near guaranteed out) and his grounders have been finding holes. He’s also been elite against fastballs over the past few years, his lowest batting average against fastballs in a season has been .352.

The big issue for the White Sox is their outfield — just not getting any hitting by anyone with Eloy and Robert out.

Yankees Focus on: Corey Kluber

Kluber just pitched the first no-hitter this century for the Yankees, and deserves a bit of a a breakdown for how successful he’s been his last few starts:

Not exactly a murder’s row of offenses, but outside of one inning against Baltimore he’s been really, really good!

Kluber so far has had reverse splits:

Which is almost entirely based on how disgusting his cutter and changeup have been this year. His change up, which he’s throwing nearly twice as much as he did when he was a Cy Young candidate, has a .125 BA against (all singles) and a near 50% whiff rate. He’s using it to put away batters 37.5% of the time, and the 80mph exit velo against it is elite. His cutter has always been his best fastball, and while it’s not the fastest pitch or and doesn’t have a ton of spin on it, he is locating it really well against lefties:

Against righties, he hasn’t had much success, mostly because his sinker still is struggling—.304 BA against, .543 SLG against, and it’s allowed five of his ten extra base hits. This has been a consistent problem for Kluber however- his sinker was worth +7 runs in 2017, +9 runs in 2018, and +7 runs in 2019 as well. Part of that is his sinker location:

That’s a lot of sinkers up and over the plate, which are usually pretty hittable. His saving grace against righties though is his breaking ball, which is still an elite pitch: .189 BA against and .264 SLG against, with a 38.5% whiff rate. When you look at how he’s located the cutter, the change up, and the breaking ball, and compare it to a zone chart for his wOBA allowed, it makes perfect sense:

Anything away from righties (his cutter and breaking ball) or inside or low and away vs lefties (cutter and changeup) has been perfect. Anything up and in on righties is getting smoked, which happens when you don’t have elite speed or spin rate on your heater.

Another impressive thing is his willingness to use different pitches in different counts:

To me that says he’s feeling comfortable and back to being the Kluber of old, he’s obviously using the breaking ball and changeup more often in two strike counts, but he’s still using them when he’s behind in the count as well. You can’t just sit there and say “awesome, he’s gotta throw a fastball here” or “I’m just going to lay off the low and away breaking ball” because he’s using everything in his arsenal at all times.

After getting moved over to having Higgy as his personal catcher, he’s been dynamite as well. As always, it’s hard to know if it’s specifically Higgy doing anything or if he would have done the same with Gary, but he’s been cruising with Higgy:

Finally, maybe the best news for Kluber being back are these stats:

That’s Kluber’s stats per pitch in the game. The next graphic is Jameson Taillon’s stats per pitch:

Taillon has been starting hot, but getting worn down and lit up later in his starts. Kluber has been consistent and isn’t getting tired.

Kluber when he faces opponents for the first, second, third time:

As opposed to Jamo:

And lastly, Kluber on normal rest vs extra rest:

vs Jamo:

All of those are saying to me that Kluber is back to normal—he’s not getting tired, he’s able to use all his pitches throughout the game and mix things up, and he doesn’t need the extra time between starts. At this point, I think Kluber is officially back to being an elite pitcher, now it just comes down to whether or not he can last through October.

#Yankees #New York Yankees #White Sox #ChiSox #Chicago White Sox #Carlos Rodon #Corey Kluber #Jameson Taillon #Tim Anderson #Tony La Russa is an idiot #And a drunk #YerminWasRight #Did I mention that TLR is a drunk idiot?