#and i have very early drafts of something for jack and another for the announcer

[rotworld]

Vermundr's Pack: With Your Tail Between Your Legs

someone asked:

Hello! How are you? I have a question, how would the pack react if reader left to walk a little and came back really hurt?

it depends on how they got hurt. if it was an accident, getting scraped up in the woods, they'd be fussed over for a while and might have a chaperone for a bit. misadventure is part of life, they've all been there and won't stop you from exploring. but if their human gets attacked...

vermundr's pack/reader (mostly featuring vermundr and ormkell). contains gore, hurt/comfort, pack dynamics, mild feral behavior.

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Dusk casts heavy shadows as it drapes across the sky. The trees are silhouettes, black birdcage bars against the molten spill of the setting sun. The pack has lived and hunted here for years, engraving their favored paths into the dirt, but these familiar trails vanish as night creeps in. Places where the grass is thin and parted are hidden beneath the latticed shadow of the swaying canopy. It doesn’t matter. You know the way home.

Home, you think, bemused. When did you start calling it that? You lean against gnarled bark and rest for a moment, catching your breath. You can hear it—a steady trickle, like the last, stubborn drops of rain at the storm’s end. There’s a red blotch on the shoulder of your tunic, a blooming stain spreading slowly across your back. It throbs and oozes. You feel for the wound and hiss, squeezing your eyes shut. It’s raw and deep and feels like fire. If you looked, would you see bone? It’s awful. You feel nauseous and dizzy. Home. You need to get home.

At dusk, they light lanterns of pine wood and rawhide. The light is faint and ghostly, a curling glow like will-o’-the-wisps. It’s not for them. Wolves see just fine in the dark. But every night, without fail, the lanterns are placed throughout the clearing where the den waits. It’s these faint, warm lights that call to you through the trees, that guide you when your vision swims and your knees start to buckle. 

You hear the wolves before you see them. There are guests tonight, another pack from further west. A few of them roughhouse in the clearing, yipping and biting playfully at one another as they slip easily from human to wolf, wolf to human. Styrmir’s boisterous laughter echoes as he plays dice with a large, intoxicated group and Ragni has a group of pups enraptured with stories of the pack’s last raid.

It’s Vermundr who scents you on the wind first. He wears little in the warmer months, the sprawling ink of his tattoos on full display across his chest. He stiffens at the mouth of the den and you think he says something in their language, a rumbling sound that brings the festivities to a halt. You limp through thick foliage and brambles, your breathing shallow. Vermundr has already crossed the clearing when you emerge, his arms open, catching you just as your legs give out. Together, you sink to the ground.

“Rabbit?” he says. His voice is low and calm, but you can feel the pounding of his heart as he cradles your head to his chest.

“Humans,” you manage to tell him, squeezing the word through gritted teeth. Your word choice has him bristling. The wolves don’t think of the raiders as humans. They are allies, hunting kin, furless siblings. They have many names for them, but never “human.” What hurt you was something you thought you’d never see again. 

“Ragni,” Vermundr says. 

The other wolf is at his side in an instant, kneeling, peeling off your tunic. It’s ripped and sticky by your shoulder and you whine at the sting when it peels loose. Ragni hushes you, kisses your forehead and whispers soft reassurances. “I know. I know it hurts, rabbit. I’m so sorry.” There’s movement around you, murmurs and growls.

Wolves, some you know and some you don’t, gather at a distance. You hurt too much to be shy about your exposed chest. Vermundr keeps you steady and grounded, his hands on your hips and his gaze never leaving yours. You wince and whimper as Ragni examines your shoulder. Vermundr presses his forehead to yours as though trying to take your pain onto himself. 

There’s a flurry of movement nearby, a rush of footsteps. A whimper, and then someone else is beside you, squeezing in opposite Ragni. “No,” you hear, a hoarse, miserable whisper. You know your mate’s voice anywhere. Ormkell is fidgeting, restless, wanting to touch but not wanting to hurt you or get in Ragni’s way. He rakes his claws through the dirt out of desperation, needing to touch something, to hurt something for how you’ve been hurt. 

“Deep and uneven,” Ragni murmurs. “Hatchet wound.” 

Vermundr’s next breath is nearly a snarl. He says something in a tone reserved for orders and the other pack scatters, a stampede of half-shifted wolves streaming into the woods. Slowly, as though you’re made of glass, he gathers you up and hands you to Ormkell. Your mate trembles. He stands, cradling you against his chest. He scents you desperately, nuzzles against your face and your neck. “What do I do?” he says, his voice quivering. He’s asking the alpha. He wants orders. He wants something, anything to anchor him and help him focus.

Vermundr looks at your blood on his hands. “There are several things that need to be done, Ormkell,” he says. “I will tell you these things, and you will do them.” Ormkell nods eagerly. You cling to him, smearing blood across his chest, and it only makes him hold you tighter. Styrmir claps a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. He brushes your bangs away from your sweat-soaked forehead and then he’s gone. You hear his gait change as he shifts, sprinting after the others. “Your mate needs healing. Ragni will remain here and help you administer the proper herbs and salves. Then they must eat and rest. We will all go to the baths together once the hunt ends. You must guard them, and the den, in my absence. Do you understand? Will you do these things?” 

“Yes,” Ormkell says, breathing again. “Yes, alpha. Thank you.” 

Hjalti passes him at the doors of the den, half-shifted, claws long and hooked. “If I find one with a hatchet,” he says, “I’ll bring him back for you.” They touch briefly, a quick, nuzzling motion. Ormkell makes a sound of gratitude and brings you inside. 

You stiffen when Ormkell reaches the nest and begins to lower you. “Blood,” you say, weak and tired. “My blood…I don’t…” You don’t want to ruin this special place.

Your mate’s expression softens with understanding. He lays down with you, curled up at your side. “I don’t care if you stain the pelts, rabbit,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek. “We have many. We can always get more. There’s only one of you.” The kiss is chaste, too quick for your liking. Ormkell lingers only a breath away, studying you, holding you close. “I’ll be back,” he promises. “With something to ease the pain. I’ll take care of you, I promise. I won’t leave your side.” He fumbles with the furs wrapped around his waist, untangling one from the rest. He leaves it draped over you, a small blanket still warm with his body heat. It’s with great reluctance that he pulls away, and you hear him and Ragni speaking in hushed tones just outside. 

You hold the fur against your face. It smells like him. You smile, even through the pain. 

You made it home. You’re going to be okay.

#rotpeach writes #rotpeach answers #ulfhednar #you guys have such fun ideas for these werewolves lol and theyre fun to work on between longer pieces #heres a rough estimate of stuff in progress #eirian piece is probably half done #theres a secondary character getting introduced in his who demanded more of the spotlight than i planned so its taking a bit #avici finale is in progress but honestly not sure how much of it is done lol its also probably going to be long #tpof fics are on the backburner due to whatever is possessing me right now but mason fic is about halfway done #and i have very early drafts of something for jack and another for the announcer #theres also an original nasty sci piece that im Very Excited about but its becoming a much more ambitious project #so it'll be a bit before thats ready

[needcake]

day 4: cardverse

Arthur/Teo, PG-15 (for some violence), 2k.

@engportevents

Three times the Queen of Spades almost caught the Diamond Bandit, and one time he did (sort of)

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There had been talk – rumors – of a band of bandits roaming the borders between the four kingdoms for months. Their usual targets were trains loaded with gold and silver and the occasional rich traveler going from one kingdom to the other.

Arthur, currently, was the latter.

“Can’t you make the horses go faster?!” he shouted at the conductor who yelled back something he didn’t quite catch over the noise of the fighting in the carriages behind them where the rest of his security detail was being held back instead of doing their job of protecting him!

He shut the small partition between him and the conductor with a violent shove and noticed the inside of the cabin now smelled of lavender.

When he turned back on his seat, the Diamond Bandit was smiling at him, sitting with far too familiarity with his arms spread open over the back of the cushions and his legs crossed.

“My, so you’re the next Queen of Spades?”

Arthur breathed deeply. His powers had not fully developed yet and the masked man he had seen in the wanted posters all over the towns in the Diamonds Kingdom was very much not a rumor.

“What of it?” he asked, trying to buy himself some time while summoning enough energy in his hand to blast the damn smile off the man’s face.

The bandit shrugged, that idiot smile still plastered on his partially covered face.

“Does your future husband know?” he asked and Arthur could feel the small ball of pure energy in his hand growing even smaller and denser. It needed to be as small as the head of a pin before he could cast it and cause any real damage.

“Know what?” He needed more time, just a little more time and concentration.

The bandit leaped onto his lap and pressed a dagger to his throat. His smile turned wicked. “That you’re no longer a virgin,” he whispered in his ear and Arthur’s concentration evaporated, the energy in his hand expanding until it blew up like a firecracker and blinding white smoke filled the cabin.

The pressure of another body over his was gone. Along with his engagement ring.

When the smoke cleared, the conductor announced the bandits had retreated and they were safe now. Arthur nodded and pressed a hand to his chest. How had he known…?

-

Next he saw him was during a ball in the Clubs Kingdom to celebrate the Queen’s birthday. Clubs was a Northern kingdom with a long and proud tradition of horseback fighting and hunting, and Arthur was trying very hard not to look directly at the animals’ heads hung on the walls around the room.

The music changed and his dancing partner – an older gentleman and high-ranking noble, probably belonging to the House of 8 – was shoved out of the way to make room for a younger and more vigorous partner who strode across the ballroom with Arthur in his arms, barely giving him time to keep up.

“Watch it!” he scolded when his feet almost stepped over his.

“Are you going to throw another feeble spark at me?” the man laughed and Arthur only had time to catch a glimpse of pale green eyes and a dark mole beneath the right eye before the entire room went dark and a myriad of gasps and faint exclamations of fright and surprise replaced the music.

“It’s you!” Arthur hissed and felt strong hands hold him tighter against a firm chest.

“Does anyone in this room know, dear Queen?” the bandit asked in a whisper and Arthur felt his entire body shiver with the proximity and the smell of lavender. “Have you told anyone that you used to be just another one of the butcher’s kids until you began manifesting the powers of a Queen?”

Arthur’s anger grew white and hot and powerful, and when he shoved him away and flicked his wrists the entire room exploded in searing light.

He had to blink several times before the room had regained color again, the servants hurrying to light the candles again. Nobles and monarchs were looking at each other with surprise and astonishment. A lady clutched at her neck only to find it bare.

Her scream pierced through the night, followed by many others like hers.

-

The situation had to be dealt with. The Diamond Bandit could not just steal from under their noses and be allowed to go unpunished. After what happened in the ball, the King of Clubs raised the reward on the Bandit’s head and the Queen of Hearts volunteered to bring the man and the rest of his band to justice.

Arthur approached Kiku afterwards and asked to be a part of the task force. Kiku only looked him over once before acquiescing silently.

It took them a month to gather the information that led them to the humble stone house where the bandits were hiding deep in the Diamond countryside near the border with Spades. Kiku and his men went after the larger group while Arthur was left alone to chase their leader into the forest.

He aimed a single arrow at him when he had him in his sight and the Diamond Bandit fell to the forest ground, clutching at his shoulder and crying out in pain.

Arthur approached him slowly and balled up magical energy in his hand. He had trained for this moment. He was now so much better at it than when they first met.

The bandit smiled through the pain, writhing on the ground beneath him. His mask was slipping; the shape of his nose oddly familiar.

“Is your mother still the best seamstress in Spades?” he asked, grinding his teeth as blood flowed down between his fingers. “Does she still bake the most awful scones?”

Arthur stepped on his hand and he screamed. The ball of energy in his palm shrunk to an impossible miniature size, no bigger than an ant, more lethal than any weapon.

“How do you know that?” he hissed.

Green eyes looked up at him. “Have you forgotten about her too?”

Kiku’s horse distracted him as it rode with its master into the space they were in, and when Arthur looked back at him there was only a small pool of blood seeping into the earth in his place. Kiku dismounted and came closer, inspecting the blood.

“He has some sort of magic,” Arthur tried to explain even if he himself didn’t entirely understand. “He disappears.”

“Not disappear,” Kiku corrected him lightly. “He changes. A tanuki.”

He pointed at a small trail of blood, droplets that went further into the forest. Arthur looked at his friend. “Only Diamond high nobility can shape shift.”

Kiku nodded. “You should pay Francis a visit.”

-

It was not hard to convince his husband to send a letter to the King of Diamonds. It was hard, however, to sit at his table and pretend to enjoy the dinner when all he wanted to do was to strangle Francis’ neck between his hands.

“I see you have a new Jack,” Alfred said politely, raising his glass at the man on the other side of the long table and Basch raised his own politely in return. “What happened to the last one?” he asked Francis beside him.

“He died,” Arthur supplied in a dry tone and Alfred looked between him and Francis, noticing Arthur’s glare and Francis’ cold demeanor.

“His ship sank during the war,” Francis said and took a sip of his wine. “What kind of a Jack would he be if he hadn’t been willing to sacrifice himself for King and country?”

Arthur got up. His hands shook beside him with uncontrolled energy that seeped light between his clenched fingers. He stormed out of the dinning hall before he lost control. He left and did not come back, forgoing what he had come all this way for.

“Did you know the guy that died in the war?” Alfred asked him late that night after Arthur had forced them to pack up their things and take their carriage back to their kingdom.

“I did,” he said, staring out at the dark through the carriage window. “He was my best friend.”

-

Arthur woke up with a draft coming into his room through the open windows.

“You’re not too heavily guarded for a Queen,” the Diamond Bandit said, smiling at him under the moonlight.

He sat up on the bed and clutched the sheets to his chest. “What do you want from me?”

The man took a step forward in his direction and froze on the spot. A circle of light with intricate runes glowed beneath his feet.

“I see you’ve gotten better at magic.”

Arthur threw the sheets aside to reveal himself fully clothed and stood in front of him. He could already hear the guards coming closer, alerted by his spell. “Who are you?”

“Do you still remember when we first kissed?” he asked, still smiling despite having been caught. “Behind the house while my mother tried on dresses in your living room?”

The guards came into the room and took him away. Arthur prided himself for not collapsing to the ground until he heard their steps on the far end of the corridor. It was where Alfred found him minutes later, when he held him until he stopped crying, not understanding why since they were safe now. The bad guy had been caught.

-

The rest of the group had been hanged in the early hours in a secluded location as not to distract the people from the main event. Only the Diamond Bandit was to be given a public execution under the eyes of the four monarchs and the people gathered at the central square in the Spades capital.

Arthur had to give out a few golden coins, but he did manage to have the room alone with the Bandit before they took him to the gallows. Teo had his head down, his shirt had been removed along with his mask and his long hair hung over his shoulders, barely concealing the fresh bruises and cuts the guards had given him since he had been brought to their care.

“Did your companions know that you cheat at cards and that you once spilled black tea on your mother’s new dress and blamed your little brother?” he asked and Teo laughed, coughed, spat out blood. Arthur came closer to the bars separating them. “How did you survive?”

“The sea didn’t want me,” he said, his shoulders rising and falling as he spoke. “I floated to the surface with the debris and the enemy ship rescued me.”

“Francis would have paid the ransom.”

Teo laughed again, wet and raspy. “They tried that.” He looked up at him, green eyes almost swollen shut and Arthur felt his chin tremble at the sight of his mangled face. “He said he didn’t negotiate with barbarians.”

He curled his hands around the bars, pressed his face between them. “Then why? Why come back?”

Teo smiled. “You know why.”

-

Arthur sat beside his King and they watched as the Diamond Bandit was brought out. The crowd watched in silence. No cheering, no murmurs.

They put a sack over his head and a noose around his neck.

When the trap door opened, Arthur shut his eyes and flicked his wrist. Something small, smaller than a grain of sand, shot out from his palm.

The crowd gasped, someone screamed. When he looked again, the Bandit had disappeared.

-

Arthur came into his room followed by a chambermaid who was frantically trying to undress him while he gave her no attention and went on talking to his secretary about the seating arrangements for the banquet next week. The other kingdoms’ delegations should be arriving soon and their rooms and accommodations had to be prepared ahead of time, there was no time to waste.

He stopped when he noticed the open window over his desk.

On top of his books, there was a single stalk of lavender.

He smiled.

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#engport #hws portugal #hws england #aph portugal #aph england #hetalia #engportweekevent #a wild fic appears #this feels a little rushed and i apologize ;_; #i do want to revisit this universe one day and expand on the themes and the worldbuilding #maybe probably #cardverse

[hotchley]

“sit down and shut up”

morehotchcontent day five: kisses (counting kisses)

tagged: @ablogofthecriminalmindsvariety @whoreforthebauteam

but most of all, he was proud of the man he loved. he remembered when aaron hotchner had first joined the unit, nervous but bubbly, with hair that fell across his forehead and got in his eyes. they’d both been married then. the job had taken that away from both of them.

which is how they found each other all over again. and now they were happy. dave had his own way of expressing that. to other people, it may have seemed extreme, but dave was Italian. it was what he did. and besides, aaron wasn’t complaining so he had no reason to stop.

in which david rossi just likes kissing aaron hotchner,

it’s still thursday somewhere (it’s 11:12 pm in the uk, but i’m feeling dramatic)

read on ao3! 

David Rossi was a proud man. He was proud of his job, of the people he’d saved and the criminals he had put away. He was proud of how the Behavioural Analysis Unit, which so many people had scoffed at when it was first founded, had flourished. He was proud of the kids in the unit for continuing to brave their jobs and be unapologetically human.

But most of all, he was proud of the man he loved. He remembered when Aaron Hotchner had first joined the unit, nervous but bubbly, with hair that fell across his forehead and got in his eyes. They’d both been married then. The job had taken that away from both of them.

Which is how they found each other all over again. And now they were happy. Dave had his own way of expressing that. To other people, it may have seemed extreme, but Dave was Italian. It was what he did. And besides, Aaron wasn’t complaining so he had no reason to stop.

one

When one of you was a parent, and the other was an ex-marine, you got used to waking up with the sun. But where Dave actually enjoyed mornings, Aaron liked to bury his head in the pillow for as long as was humanly possible.

“Morning sweetness,” Dave said, when Aaron’s eyes fluttered open.

Aaron groaned. “It’s too early for this crap.”

Dave tutted. “Don’t let Jack hear you say that.”

The look Aaron gave him would have bought unsubs to their knees. But Dave was not an unsub. He was Aaron’s partner. And he knew exactly how to make that man smile.

Before Aaron could roll over, Dave extended his hand, giving Aaron plenty of time to understand what he was about to do. When Aaron didn’t tense, Dave gently caressed his cheek before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. Aaron’s eyes closed at the contact, some of the tension he’d been carrying released.

“I’ll make us breakfast,” Dave said.

Aaron smiled, eyes still closed.

two

“I’ll make the coffee,” Aaron offered, entering the kitchen in one of Dave’s old t-shirts and his own jogging bottoms. His hair was still an untamed mess, just the way Dave loved it. It was always lovely at the end of the day to watch as Agent Hotchner became Aaron, but the best part was how he’d take the gel out and allow his hair to become all scruffy again.

“That’d be lovely. But that’s all you’re doing okay? As soon as you’ve done that, go and sit,” he said.

Aaron nodded, and for once in his life, did as he was told.

When Dave bought the plates into the dining room, Aaron was smiling down at his phone. Good. He wasn’t checking his work email.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Jack’s school uploaded some of the pictures from their camping trip. He looks happy,” Hotch said, tilting the phone so Dave could see.

“Good kid,” Dave said. When Aaron tried to take his plate, he tutted.

Aaron rolled his eyes, but stood up nonetheless. Dave kissed his cheek this time, before setting the plate down in front of him, delighting in the slight flush that appeared where he’d kissed him.

three

“We’re going out,” Dave announced, entering Hotch’s office without knocking.

Hotch looked up from his file. “Dave.”

“Aaron.”

“I can’t,” Hotch said. “I have all of this paperwork, and if I stop then it’ll just build even more and then I’ll have to stay later which will impact everything else, so don’t Aaron me. Get one of the others to go with you.”

Rossi knew Hotch wasn’t annoyed at him, he was just agitated by everything he was supposed to be doing. He flicked through a few of the files.

“First of all, these aren’t even yours, they’re the teams. So really, they should be in the bullpen. Second of all, these-” he held up another few “-are technically mine. Third, I can and will Aaron you whenever I want because I don’t want a member of the team to go with me. I want you.”

Aaron sighed, then stood up. Dave smiled and extended his arm. Out of habit, the other man glanced out the window of his office, just to make sure the team were all okay before taking the arm being offered to him as he allowed himself to be escorted out of his office. And hey, if Derek used that moment to grab a few extra files for Reid, well Hotch didn’t have to know.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” Aaron said, twenty minutes later, as they were sat in the park eating ice-cream.

“It wasn’t exactly hard to love you Aaron. You’re a good man. Kind. Passionate. Handsome. I mean, what is there not to like?”

Aaron smiled, that awkward one he got whenever someone complimented him as he turned away slightly. Dave shifted so the space between them was significantly reduced and kissed Hotch’s shoulder, no longer covered by the blazer he’d convinced him to shed for the sake of comfort.

He saw Hotch mouth something to himself, but he couldn’t tell what.

It didn’t matter though. He’d made Aaron get some fresh air and forced him to relax for a few minutes. That was classed as a win in anyone’s book.

four

Dinner in the Hotchner-Rossi household was always interesting. Aaron had never been a particularly gifted cook, but after Haley’s passing, he started making more of an effort because unfortunately, Jack could not survive on chicken nuggets and boxed macaroni.

Dave had been more than willing to aid the Hotchner’s in their cooking journey. Some days he’d helped Aaron cook, other days he’d taught both of them a new recipe. And on some particularly difficult days, he had cooked something simple and light, just to keep them both going.

Now, it was a combined effort. Aaron usually did the preparations, as that was more set in stone. There were only so many ways one could crush garlic and most recipes defined how things were supposed to be cut up. It was regimented. Repetitive. Most of the prep for the dishes they made together was simple. A mind-numbing task that helped him get rid of the stress from the day.

Rossi would do the actually cooking because that was where things would get a bit more abstract. Aaron would often worry too much that it wasn’t going to be completely perfect, or that it wouldn’t be exactly what the recipe said, whereas Dave was much more willing to eyeball it all.

Normally, Dave would just watch as Aaron moved round his kitchen with ease, chopping up vegetables and getting the saucepans out. Hotch didn’t understand why Dave would want to watch him do such basic, boring tasks. Dave said that was the entire reason: he liked seeing Aaron Hotchner being domestic. It made his heart warm.

Today however, he chose to invade his personal space. He uttered a soft greeting as he entered, not wanting to spook him and gently rubbed his shoulders in a lightly massaging gesture.

“Hi,” Aaron whispered.

Dave pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, smiling when Aaron relaxed. Deciding to be a bit more forward, he slowly started kissing the area not covered by his shirt, delighting in the breathless sigh Aaron released as he kissed the area where his shirt collar would not cover it.

“We’re going to end up in the E.R if you keep doing that,” Aaron warned.

Almost immediately, Dave pulled away, smirking when the Aaron Hotchner actually whined.

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

He sauntered away after that.

five

“It’s quiet without Jack,” Dave said.

Aaron’s grip on his fork tightened minutely.

Dave cringed. “I’m sorry. I forgot how it must have felt then. Not knowing when you were next going to see him.”

Hotch shook his head. “It’s fine. You’re right. It is quiet.”

They had pretty much finished eating. Aaron was missing his son again, so he hadn’t eaten most of what was on his plate. Dave had planned for that, so the meal was more filling than usual. And it would last in the fridge for a few days. Jack was coming home in two days, which meant it would finish and nothing would be wasted.

“Why don’t we rectify that then?” Dave said, holding his hand out.

Aaron frowned.

“Dance with me. Just for five minutes. I promise you’ll feel so much better.”

Aaron let himself be pulled into the living room, not even hesitating to leave Dave lead. The trust he placed in him never failed to amaze him. He just knew that if wishes did come true, his only one would be that Aaron Hotchner never stopped looking at him with that adoration in his eyes.

When the second song came to an end, he placed his own hands over Aaron’s, then bought them to his lips and kissed them, feeling very much like a prince meeting his princess for the first time.

“My liege,” he joked.

Aaron grinned.

six

It was getting late, and so they had decided to head up to bed. Dave was doing a rough plan for his next novel- on pen and paper as that was the only proper way to do the first draft- and Aaron was reading one of those cliché romance novels. Dave thought it was hilarious that he liked to read about country girls falling in love with city boys, but Aaron said he liked to read about nice things, especially since their entire lives revolved around criminals existing.

When Aaron yawned again, Dave decided it was time to admit defeat. Neither of them liked to be the one to admit they were too tired to stay awake- probably because it reminded them that they were both getting older- but Dave was willing to do whatever it took to make Aaron establish healthy sleeping patterns.

Including swallowing his pride.

“I think I’m going to go to sleep now,” he said.

Aaron nodded, bookmarking his page. “That seems like a good idea.”

Dave slid off the bed and switched the light off. The door was closed. The windows were locked with the curtains drawn. When Dave switched the main light off, Aaron flicked the lamp on. He couldn’t sleep in complete darkness. He hadn’t for a while.

Aaron had been terrified that Dave would laugh the first time they slept in the same bed and he’d needed the light on. Obviously, he hadn’t. Instead, he had flicked both lamps on (they were on a case, nothing more needed to be said) and held him through the night.

Now, Aaron didn’t need any encouragement to let Dave cuddle him.

But before sleep could take them, Dave kissed him, once, on the lips.

“Six,” Aaron said, voice already quiet and sleepy.

“What was that?”

“You kissed me six times today. That has to be above the average.”

“What can I say? You’re above the average.”

The last thing Dave heard before he fell asleep was Aaron’s laugh.

#morehotchcontent2020 #day five: kisses #counting kisses #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #hotch x rossi #david rossi #rossi #soft hotch

[teacherintransition]

IT’S STILL NOT FIXED? @#%&.$€£§?} Liberty Bell Take me Away!

"Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to hear is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent”*

From me …”your time is your own when you retire.” Not exactly the case my friend, we will, all of us be captive to the throes of incompetence and being “shushed” by some in certain service business. The only thing you can do to maintain your sanity is to nestle up to your favorite barstool for the panacea when in pain and obtain sanctuary. This becomes problematic when your home away from home, the place where everyone knows your name, the place where the omniscient bartender has your required libation already poured when you cross the threshold … when this establishment has been closed for 1,193 days. Et omnis gloria eius…. The Liberty Bell.

The days since I announced my retirement in August 5, 2020; have for the most part, been pretty damn cool. I’ve started a website, a business, am a writing a book, am writing a blog that I plan to transfer into book form, I’m walking, I’m painting like crazy and have read around sixty books. All in all with honey do’s included, I’ve been a very good boy. Not everyday has been grand and nor should it. I can often find peaceful solace upon my lawn mower, lawn tractor, the throne of the most high to be the right balm for almost any emotionally taxing time; I’m pretty damned easy to please. For those that know me, I’m kind of Hank Hill about my lawn. Neatly cut on a weekly basis and verdant green, “I mean to tell ya!” OCD? You bet your ass I am… and I’ve got one of the best lawns on the block. My red, powerhouse mower had been “injured” for the last four weeks… scratch that SIX weeks which has reduced me to the bourgeoisie practice of paying some one to do my yard work. Not me, not ever… or at least not for long.

Without retreading over the bloody, battle ground of indignation, “the customer is always right,” “you need to understand sir,” blah, blah, blah yada, yada, yada, Yoda,” get over it you must?” I find my self like the French and the Germans at the Marne in World War I … at a stalemate. In times like these when a man, who realizes that deployment of WMD’S, would only escalate the matter beyond all reasonable proportion, he must know it’s time to lick his wounds, catch his breath and refresh himself at his neighborhood pub with tasty libations and good conversation. There was only one place in my town of Nacogdoches that could fully restore me with vim and vigor and had all the requisite charms to soothe the savage beast: The Liberty Bell Aug. 2013-May 2018.

As mentioned previously, I shall use pseudonyms to protect the identities of the people who were my superheroes. K opened the Liberty Bell in August of 2013. Kim and I thought we’d “try out the new spot,” and had dinner there the first weekend. K billed it as a wine bar with pub fare and live music. She underplayed her hand… pub fare? More like steaks, shrimp and grits, shepherds pie that transcended finger food pub fare. Over the years, we would enjoy countless bands and singer songwriters. But a wine bar? You sneaky little proprietor of manna and flowing nirvana… she had beer(s), bourbons, gins, vodkas, ….Scotch Whisky with names like Glenlivet, Glenfiddich, Maccallan , Johnny Walker R,B, and B, the Balviene and others. K had prepared and provided an oasis from what St. Anthony Bourdain referred to as the sea of TG Mcfuckdies, Appledon’ts, and other prefabricated restaurant grill ideas that could be found at the end of every feeder road on any highway in the country. The Liberty Bell my friends was something completely different… at least for us small town folk in Nacogdoches. Our first waitress was KC who showed all the charm, wit, and politesse one would expect from an high end dining establishment. This it wasn’t, but it damn sure wasn’t an all you could eat food buffet and salad bar either. As we exited that balmy August evening through the doors, Kim and I looked at each other and, with the stars gleaming in the sky declared, “we really like this place.” In truth, I was holding something back, in my mind and in my heart, I was really thinking, “no, I fucking love this place!”

The decor was simple: dark wood flooring, a mid tone oak bar with the all important brass railings, multi colored earth toned brick that appeared subdued and solid with the look of being an older establishment that gave a feeling of reliability and solidity. A row of draft beers that provided the patron with an eclectic variety of artistic fermented malt beverages. K was presenting a true farm to table dining experience that filled out a fresh, fantastic menu. An eclectic mix of your American staples, southwestern fare, delicious steaks for we carnivores and a few surprises thrown in and expertly prepared.

H worked for K and was the kindest sweetest, fun, personable soul I may have ever met. It was a definite, “YES!” moment if you got her table. You were not only going to get wined and dined, but we’re guaranteed laughter and a hug. Choosing extraordinary personnel, was the magic intangible that made the Liberty Bell … my spot. H was also a fine arts major and ran the art gallery in the restaurant. There were many works from the university Art school, but H sought out local talent and even displayed my art. My paintings were hanging in a gallery! This local flair of coxing the locals to put their talents “out there,” was another draw to get you into this place…this wondrous place. We made friends there … that enjoyed you … not just because you were going to spend money. They would come and sit with you if things were slow and if they weren’t slow, they’d damn sure make the superhuman effort to let you know that they knew you were in house. The master of this service industry art form was J. He was genuinely happy to see you enter the door followed with a hand shake, a smile and a from the heart, “good to see you man!” J and later his protégée N, loved a challenge. You wanted a special nightcap to close out the evening? There was none of this, “duh, I’m sorry we don’t make that,” no, no my friend. J and N knew how to make it or would research right there or suggest a perfectly acceptable substitute. The next week you could safely bet the farm that your drink request was on the menu often being named after you. How could you expect anything better? They wanted you here and they damn sure wanted you back.

All of these niceties, these actions that you could never expect from the chain bar, grill and swill were what made The Liberty Bell transcendent.

“A good local pub has much in common with a church, except that a pub is warmer, and there's more conversation. ”

William Blake

This my friends is the money shot for a personal pub…. not the drinks, not the grub, not the large plant by the door… can the place that you’ve chosen really lift you up when your down? If the whole week has been filled with smart ass criticisms by some passive aggressive mid management flunky who hovers around 5’ 5”, wears shirt sleeves with a polyester tie can two hours spent within the confines of said pub wash away all the smatterings of the Napoleon complex supervisor and have you smiling and laughing and your not even drunk yet….this is the place to be mi compadres. If you congregate with others also beaten down by the soul crushing 9 to 5 and can find commonality in the struggles of your fellow proletariat and can see the good in SOME of the human race, well baby, you’ve found your sanctuary and hold on with all your strength, because one day it might be gone. For four years almost every Friday, Kim and I would meet at the Liberty Bell and commiserate, vent, fuss and heal. Going home, twisting open a beer and mindlessly watching Sports Center was not the ticket. An early afternoon at The Bell was truly good for what ails you. The pub, K, KC, H, J, N, C and the others are all gone… and The Liberty Bell has been replaced with … uh … something. All too many afternoons call out for that salve that soothes the savage beast. I’m reminded often when things just don’t turn out like you want….not to the degree of break down status, but just to the point that a familiar face, your comfortable bar stool and genuine conversation would make everything right with the world again … at least for awhile.

*Webb, Jack; Dragnet; Mark VII Productions; 1951-1970

https://youtube.com/channel/UClK_MAvZtDiLmlp-4HIN7NA

https://instagram.com/loveandwinemedia?utm_medium=copy_link

http://labibliotecacoffee.com/

#retirement #coffetime #open mind #stress #change #teacher #i need friends #education #europe #health #nacogdoches #the Liberty bell #writing #socialmedia #social circle #bartending #where everybody knows your name #sanctuary #watering hole #regulars

[fireproofkings]

The making of a sweater series

Part 1 || Part 2

Two things before we start: First, this is a long one and it has a few photos so buckle up if you’re reading. And second, I apologize in advance for the state of my nails in any of the pics, I know they are incredibly awful, but I promise I’ll do them tomorrow.

If you know me, you know I am the worst at keeping up with things, and if not, the fact that I have 7k drafts can give you a pretty good idea.

Last Saturday (July 11th) I went out and bought everything just as I expected, but while I was out shopping, Louis decided to attack us.

That’s one of those things you will always remember what you were doing the moment the news hit. I was buying all the supplies to make Harry’s sweater when Louis announced he was finally free.

My phone was blowing up, and when I went to check why, all of my group chats were screaming, and the lovely Ed (@literlarryreal) was sending me long voice notes telling me all the thoughts she has and let me tell you, it was a ride.

Yes, I cried in public and no, I am not ashamed to say it was not the first time I have done so with something Louis related.

Anyways, getting back on track, I spent way more than I was expecting to, but it’s alright lol. I am confident it’s all going to be worth it.

Under the cut you can find a summary on everything that happened this week with the process, and more pictures of Jack, my dog.

Here’s everything I bought that day. The quantities are exactly what is in the pattern in JW Anderson’s website (plus an extra colour I bought but then found a better match for, which I might use if I run out of any colour). I did end up finding everything, but I had to go to a few different stores to do it. There’s kind of a shortage due to the current situation and the fact that these aren’t essential goods.

I wanted to start that same Saturday, but I decided to finish that scarf I was making before, just so I wouldn’t have to go through all the trouble of changing needles and storing it away where it would probably get messed up, so I finished it and here’s a photo of it:

I ended up doing an infinity scarf, and have some yarn leftover, maybe I’ll do a hat or something like that in the future. Yes, those are my PJ’s don’t judge me.

Then I procrastinated starting the actual sweater for all of Sunday and Monday (12th and 13th). That’s something I tend to do, if you haven’t noticed.

One thing I hadn’t thought of as particularly hard, ended up being something out of my nightmares (I also tend to over exaggerate, if you’re reading this, you’re really getting to know me lol).

That green square is incredibly awful.

The pattern itself isn’t that difficult, but if you have to undo some lines it completely falls apart and you have to start over. This happened to me like three times the first time I attempted it.

Usually it takes me half an hour to 45 minutes to do one square, this one took literally two hours and a half. But it was so much easier and quicker the second time around. Putting in a lifeline and doing tallies in a notepad every time I finished a line helped a lot.

Jack did end up making it better. Even if him laying directly on top of it made it difficult to work.

On the other hand, the black and red jacquard squares were something that had me slightly worried. The technique is kinda confusing and is very easy to mess up if you are not paying attention.

The first few lines I did wrong, but then I learned how to do it properly and while the handling of the multiple strands of yarn is difficult, you get the hang of it pretty quickly.

But then, horror struck.

I realised that for some reason I was doing the squares 12cm long and not 14cm like they are supposed to be. So that panel was going to end up being 6cm shorter than the others in total, which doesn’t seem like much but was definitely going to show.

Here you can see the mess. I had to undo basically two whole squares, since the first one was 14cm (I really don’t know what was going on in my brain) and the second one, which was a jacquard pattern one, could be continued, but those two squares cost me about a whole day of work.

I was so frustrated I decided to stop for the day and take a long hot shower.

I came back to it the next day and Jack made it all better (can you sense a pattern -no pun intended- here?).

So, to wrap it up:

They are lined up in the way they go in the completed sweater. The little notes on top help me keep track of which one is each of them. The numbers in blue show the order in which they were done.

The first one was pretty easy except for the green square I talked about before, I started that one on Tuesday (14th) and finished on Wednesday (15th). That same day I started the second one which I finished early on Thursday (16th), it was really uneventful which I appreciated a lot, apart from my pointer finger hurting from pushing the needle, so I decided to invent some kind of protection with tape and silicone, which failed extremely, because it rides up and falls off.

Here you can see my failed attempt at some kind of protection for my pointer finger. I basically need a thimble, but I can’t find one online.

Maybe the uneventfulness of panel number two was to make up for the absolute nightmare that was the third panel that I had started that same day, the one I talked about being 6cm too short. It threw me off the loop for the rest of the day, which meant I only finished it late on Friday (17th) and by then I was too tired to do anything else.

Yesterday, on Saturday (18th) I started the fourth one, but I didn’t have the energy to work that much, and today, Sunday (19th), I haven’t done much more than a couple of rows.

By this point I have 3 completed back centre panels and another one 3/4 of the way done. I just have that 1/4 and the two side panels (that include shoulder shaping) left to finish the back, and then I have the front, sleeves, cuffs, collar, ribs, and button band to finish the knitting. Then it’s all ready to sew together.

Just as I did with last post, I want to close this off with some pointers for what is coming, just to keep myself on track and look back to later:

This week I want to finish the back and leave it all ready for sewing when I’m done with the rest of the knitting.

I have to write for a fic exchange I wish I had started earlier but I’m still confident on the time I have left, so that will be my priority, and not knitting.

I start classes again on August 3rd and I hope to be finished by then (with both the sweater and the fic lol), I am kinda confident I will be able to do it since I’m kind of 1/3 of the way through, so if I keep the same pace, or an even better one, I’ll be able to make it.

Something I’m not looking forward to is doing the shoulder shaping, I have no idea how to.

I have been worried the yarn I bought isn’t going to be enough (it might be just my anxiety talking), but I think it’s going to be okay since I am nearly 1/3 of the way through on the squares with one of the colours, but I haven’t gone through that amount of yarn yet.

I have made the executive decision to not do the tassels with the left over yarn and to sew the panels and ribbing together right sides together (so the seams will be on the inside) to give it a more polished look, but this might change in the future.

I’m starting to see it take shape, even if only the back, and I’m really excited!!!

If you want to see the other posts in these series go to the top where the other parts are linked or go to the tag here.

#the making of a sweater #mine #jack #harry's patchwork sweater #louis is free #sorry for all the dates #it's just so i can keep track of the time it's taking #thank you if you read this lol

[everlarkficexchange]

Extended Office Hours

Author: @hutchhitched

  Prompt 22: Student/Professor. Katniss is stressing out about an assignment and decides to go and talk to Professor Mellark about it, as he’s always been understanding and patient in class. However things turn awkward when Katniss stumbles upon him in his office after hours watching porn on his laptop. Is it deliberate, maybe he needed to relieve some stress or did his brother/friend send him a link to something that he shouldn’t have opened?? It’s up to you writer :) [submitted by @peetaspikelets]

  Rating: M

  Summary: Peeta Mellark, an English PhD student, teaches at Panem Community College. Seeking help from her professor, Katniss Everdeen visits his office just when Peeta opens an email that probably should have been read at home.

“Remember, your essay is due next Monday. I’ll be in my office during office hours, and feel free to swing by other times if you’re near the building,” Professor Mellark announced as the class packed up their notebooks and paper drafts.

  “Will you be there?”

  Peeta tried not to laugh as Katniss, one of his better students, rolled her eyes and shoved her stuff into her bag. Cashmere was easily the most irritating girl in the class and clearly not very bright if she’d just asked that question.

  No, of course I won’t be there. That’s why I told you to stop by.

  He cleared his throat and studied Cashmere, unable to tell if she was really that vapid and unaware or if she was being coy. Struggling to keep his expression and tone neutral, he confirmed, “I’ll be around a lot this week, yes.”

  Katniss had no intention of swinging by to see her professor during office hours or otherwise. He knew that. He’d overheard her one day as she left the class explaining to a friend that she was “doing fine in the class, thank you very much.” She seemed pretty shy, too, so he doubted he’d ever have the pleasure of seeing her in his office.

  He watched her leave and sighed in frustration when he was finally alone in the room. Disgusted with himself, Peeta sank into a chair and took several deep breaths. He’d never been so attracted to someone—especially not one of his students—and he was both dreading and excited for the end of the semester when he wouldn’t see Katniss again. He’d done everything he knew how to do to control his interest in her, but she was lovely and interesting and peculiar in a really good way. He’d never been that conventional, and Katniss wasn’t either. He needed to not have her as a student anymore—not if he wanted to maintain any sort of professional integrity.

  Not that he’d done anything. He certainly hadn’t. That would be breaking the ethical responsibilities of his job, and Peeta was unquestionably responsible. He always had been—all during childhood and high school. Even through college when he’d turned down an athletic scholarship at Panem State University, so he could stay close to home and help out at the family bakery. He’d attended his parents’ alma mater and worked the opening shift at Mellark’s every day until he graduated and broke the news he was going away to graduate school. He’d put his own dreams on hold for long enough, and it was time for him to leave the small town where he’d been raised.

  By the time he was 27, he’d landed a job as an adjunct professor at Panem Community College as he finished his degree and become a full-fledged PhD. It was only his second semester when Katniss Everdeen walked into his classroom and made his heart skip a few beats. She was reticent and quiet, but her papers showed depth and insight that made him want to call her into his office and juice her brain until he knew everything about her.

  For the most part, he was able to control himself, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to having a few fantasies about her. He didn’t watch porn that often, but when he did, he tended toward ones with dark-haired students who frequented office hours. And if he couldn’t find one he liked, he allowed himself to imagine for a few minutes…

  Peeta shook himself and packed up his papers, folders, and pens. He wasn’t going to give into a lewd fantasy about one of his students in a classroom where anyone could walk in and see his arousal.

  Maybe it would be easier to deal with the situation if he hadn’t, in a moment of weakness, confided in his friend and colleague, Finnick Odair, another young professor whose philosophy classes filled up seconds after registration opened. Dr. Odair’s popularity with the female student body was legendary, and Peeta didn’t mind that his own status had increased from the fall to the spring. His schedule for the next fall was already almost full, and early registration had been running for only a few days.

  He entered his office and flung his bag on the floor at his feet. As he powered up his desktop, he shuffled a stack of essays he needed to grade for the next day’s class in hopes of finding his reading glasses. He answered a few emails and then turned his attention to the papers. Losing himself in his work, he didn’t look up until a chime indicated he’d received a new email.

  “What does Finnick have to say now?” he mused as he bit the cap of his pen. He clicked on the attachment and blinked at the screen when a half-naked woman in a short plaid skirt who looked exactly like the student he couldn’t get off his mind spread her legs and leaned back on her elbows on a wooden desk. Fascinated, he watched a clothed blonde man cross to her and caress her legs.

  “You know your homework scores are much too low,” the man reprimanded.

  The Katniss look-alike blinked rapidly and arched her back so her exposed breasts jutted upward. “I’m so sorry, professor. I’ve been a very naughty girl, but I simply cannot fail anatomy. Can’t I do something to make up my grade?”

  “I might be able to offer some extra credit. If you’re willing to help me study a specimen.”

  Peeta’s mouth dropped open as the man flipped up the girl’s skirt and spread her lips. He alternated fingering her hard and licking his fingers. The action repeated several times with the girl begging him in breathy moans to make her cum like the bad girl she was. The camera cut to a close shot of the girl’s pussy, and Peeta sucked in his breath at the moisture seeping from her. It was so wrong to watch this, but it was so, so, so hot to see someone who looked so much like Katniss building to a climax.

  His eyes were riveted on the screen when the man shed his pants and rubbed his cock between the girl’s legs. Peeta shifted in his seat and adjusted himself as the male porn star entered his make-believe student. They fucked for a while before he directed her onto her knees and the pace quickened.

  For a fleeting moment, Peeta’s thoughts flickered to the cracked door and the possibility of being overheard. However, it was late and the last week before finals. Campus was practically deserted, and he was almost always alone in the building by himself by this time in the evening.

  The brunette begged to be fucked on the computer screen in ever-increasing decibels when Peeta finally slipped his hand into his own pants. He groaned at the sensation and pumped himself in rhythm with the two on his screen. He bit his lower lip as he jacked off. There was something weirdly freeing about doing something so private in a public building, and that only made him more determined to—

  “Professor Mellark?”

  “Oh, fuck,” Peeta hissed at the sound his name in a feminine voice. He tucked himself back into his pants and slapped at the keyboard to mute his computer while calling out, “Just a second! Let me just finish this—”

  The door swung open, and Katniss stood there, her brow furrowed in concern. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

  “No! No, you’re fine,” he yelped and frantically refastened his belt below his desk. He wiped his palm on the side of his pants before motioning for her to enter and take a seat in a chair facing his desk. “Sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was out there. I was, uh… Yeah, anyway. What can I do for you, Katniss?”

  She clearly didn’t believe him—probably because his face flamed in what must have been the brightest shade of red known to man—but he refused to acknowledge what he’d been doing. She shifted back and forth on her feet a few times, and he willed himself to think of really, really unsexy things to help deflate his erection. Thank fuck for the desk. Otherwise, his favorite student would have gotten an eyeful of his junk in a very inappropriate way.

  Katniss glanced over her shoulder and finally stepped into the room and crossed to a chair. She stared down at him for a few seconds before sinking down and perching herself on the edge of the seat. She looked like she would flee at any moment, and Peeta yearned to make her comfortable.

  “Are you having trouble with the final essay?” he coaxed when she remained silent. Her gray eyes penetrated him and made him squirm. It was as if she could see inside him where he hid his past hurts, imposter syndrome, and insecurities.

  “I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

  He flushed again and waved away her concern. “No, no, no. I was listening to a podcast. You didn’t interrupt a thing.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  “I’m sure, Katniss. Absolutely positive,” he assured her in a rush. “It’s a pleasure to have you here in my office. I-I mean, so glad you’re seeking me out. For help. With the paper. Or whatever.”

  Peeta’s face flamed, both for his unintended sexual innuendo and his inability to hide his nervousness. He’d allowed himself one too many fantasies of her alone with him in his office and working out something that had nothing to do with academics. One too many times speculating about the feel of her smooth olive skin under his hands, the sounds she’d make, how good she’d feel, how being with someone like her would make him feel whole, how building a life with her would fulfill all his dreams. He was a complete wreck.

  Katniss reached down and pulled a stack of papers out of her bag and thrust them at him. She twisted her hands as he flipped through the pile and spoke only when he stopped to look at her.

  “I’m trying to get into Panem State next year, and I need a recommendation letter. I don’t really know too many faculty here—non-traditional student and all that—so I didn’t know who to ask, but I’ve really enjoyed your class, and you did say you could help with anything we needed.”

  Peeta leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. “Of course, I’ll write a letter for you! I’m happy to help.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded as she twisted her braid around her palm and tugged on it nervously. “Absolutely. I just need a little more information.”

  “L-like what?”

  He flashed a grin at her in an attempt to ease her anxiety, but he wasn’t sure it worked. She still looked like she wanted to sprint from the room at any second.

  “I didn’t realize you were a non-traditional student. Can you tell me a little bit more about your story? I’d like to reference your circumstances in the letter.”

  “It’s not much of a story,” she mumbled.

  “Everybody has a story, Katniss.”

  “I guess that’s true,” she grudgingly admitted and then smiled softly. “My father died when I was in middle school, and my mom took it hard. She was practically catatonic for most of high school, so I raised my younger sister and worked odd jobs until I was old enough to get real employment. When I graduated, I took on as much work as I could until she went away to school. Then I decided it was time to get a degree, so I’m here.”

  “How much younger is your sister?”

  “Four years.”

  “So, that makes you…24?”

  “Yeah, although I look like I’m 16.”

  Peeta chuckled at her wry assessment. “You look lov— I mean, I just hadn’t realized how similar we are in age. I’m 28, and I’m sure at any second everyone is going to realize I don’t really belong here. Professors are supposed to be old and gray, not bumbling around like the twenty-something I am.”

  “You’re a great teacher,” Katniss said softly. “I’ve never been good with words, but in your class…”

  “Well, that’s a wonderful compliment. Make sure to put it on the teacher evaluation at the end of the semester.”

  “Oh, I-I will.”

  “I’m teasing, Katniss. No coercion here.”

  “No, but I mean, you really are a great teacher. Normally, I’m not a very verbal person. I’d rather do things than talk, but you make me want to do both.”

  The double entendre hung in the air between them, and neither spoke or broke eye contact. Peeta wasn’t sure if she’d meant to hint at something other than his teaching, but the flush on her face indicated she realized what she’d said.

  He jumped at the sharp rap on his door and glanced up to see Finnick grinning at him. “Peeta, my friend, want to grab a beer? Oh, I didn’t realize you had company.”

  “I was just leaving,” Katniss blurted and jumped to her feet. “Thanks for writing the letter for me, Professor Mellark. See you next week at the final.”

  “No problem, Katniss. I’ll have it for you then. And keep working on your essay. I’m sure you’ll do well. You always do.”

  Katniss slipped through the door, and Finnick perched on the edge of the desk. His eyes sparkled as he observed his friend.

  “Katniss, huh?” he mused. “Is that—? That’s the girl you told me about? The one who makes you want to throw your career to the wind and do her on the classroom floor?”

  “Shut up, Finn.”

  “But that’s her?”

  “Yes, it’s her! And thanks for the email earlier. I just happened to open it right before she knocked on my door. Talk about awkward.”

  “What email?”

  Peeta turned his computer screen so Finnick could see it and brought up the link. When he clicked it, Finnick guffawed. “She’s the spitting image.”

  “I know. Thanks for sending porn to my work email, asshole.”

  Finnick laughed and slapped Peeta’s shoulder. “I must have copied the wrong link. That was supposed to be an invite to the end of the semester party at my house next week.”

  “Well, that makes more sense.”

  “Come on. I need a drink after grading that last set of essays, and my wife’s out of town.”

  “Give me a second.”

  “What could possibly be more important than drinking alcohol with me?”

  Peeta grinned at his friend and answered, “I’m forwarding that email to my personal account. No sense letting good porn go to waste.”

#Springtime Edition 2019 #submission #hutchhitched #peetaspikelets #prompt 22

[scapingthebottomofthebarrel]

fling

“Katherine Pulitzer and Les Jacobs!” You shouted as you walked up to the park and saw a frantic Davey chasing Katherine and Les who were holding a couple notebooks. The second they saw you their grins doubled in size

“(Y/N)!” They both screamed before running towards you both talking a mile a minute and waving the papers around frantically. “Davey is dating someone!” Les exclaimed excitedly shoving the papers in your face. You took a step back and gave your eyes a moment to focus before looking at the papers. You fought back a blush as you realized they were drafts of poems. To you. You and Davey have been dating for a month and these drafts were of old poems he had written to you over the course of a few months while he was building up the courage to ask you out. “Oh” was all you said as you made eye contact with Davey over Katherine’s shoulder. “‘Oh’? That’s all you have to say? Our little Davey is DATING! Wait until I tell Jack! He’s gonna be so excited!” She squealed. You and Davey haven’t told anyone yet because, well you’re not really sure why. You just knew Davey was being very insistent that you didn’t say anything yet. Davey choose this moment to come up and snatch the poems away from them. Davey, the blushing mess he is, mumbled a quick goodbye and something about ‘meeting you guys there’ before running off in the direction of the Jacobs apartment. Your eyebrows knit together in worry as you watch him run away, but your focus is quickly brought back as Les frantically pokes your side. “Come on (Y/N)! We’re gonna miss Tommy Boy and Specs races if we don’t hurry.” You nodded and let him grab your hand before pulling you and Katherine off in the direction of the rec center where your schools swim team held its meets. - “Okay, so explain again with a real reason why we can’t say anything yet?” You sigh as you run your fingers through Davey hair. You’re both sitting on your bed the next day talking about what happened at the park. “W-we just can’t. Not yet.” He groaned for the millionth time. “Just wait a few more weeks.” “What’ll be different in a few weeks? We’ve been together for a month. Look Davey we’ve been going in circles for an hour. Let’s just tell them. It doesn’t have to be a big thing just a text or something. Oh I know we could-“ “I don’t know okay?” Davey shouted shooting up from his spot on the bed and starting to pace. “See then it’s fine no need to get so worked up.” You say with a smile trying to calm him down “No! Us! I don’t know about us!” The moment the words leave his mouth you can feel your heart shatter “Wha-what do you mean?” You move to sit on your knees messing with the corner of your blanket “It’s so soon. What if we don’t work out? What’s the point in saying anything if this is just gonna turn out to be a fling?” You freeze for a second and you know the pain of his words shows, but you quickly school your expression. “You’re right.” You see his shoulder sag with relief and he goes to say something before you stand up and move towards your bedroom door. “I mean if you’re this unsure about us why waste both our time?  We should just end it here and then we never have to say anything.” His jaw drops and you can see him scrambling to find what to say. “Now Davey I think you should go cause I feel like my heart just got ripped out and I really need to cry, but I can’t do that till you leave, so...” You hold the door open and motion for Davey to leave. He just bites his lip and nods before walking out of your room. Your listen for his footstep going down the stairs and the front door opening and closing before collapsing into sobs on your bed. How could he say that? Did he really think that this was just a fling? Was he ever really serious about you guys? You try to push the thoughts away and calm yourself down, but the tears only spill faster. You would talk to your mom, but even she didn’t know. Then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Davey must have been embarrassed by you. You weren’t exactly the smartest, but you tried hard and maybe you didn’t think you were the prettiest, but you didn’t think that mattered to Davey. The more you thought about it the more that seemed to make sense. You have been friends with the guys for forever, but you all didn’t meet Davey till freshman year of high school, so why would he be embarrass? He didn’t seem like the type to care about what people outside the group thought, but maybe you were wrong. - The next day at school you sighed and straightened out your clothes and tried not to think about last nights events too much. If Davey cares so little then you shouldn’t care so much.. If Davey was embarrassed by you that’s his problem. You were pulled out of your thought when someone came up behind you and covered your eyes. “Guess who.” They said in a funny voice. “Hmm could it be the one, the only, the amazingly stunning Buttons?” He took his hands off your eyes  and you turned around to smile at him. He had a big smile plastered on his face. “Why (y/n) I never knew you felt that way.” He pretended to swoon. You smiled and shut your locker. “Ready for another day?” He asked. You wanted to say no way in hell. That you were not ready. That you wouldn’t be ready to see Davey for a long time, but you wouldn’t. You couldn’t, so you simply nodded. Along the way you were joined by Romeo, Albert, and Tommy Boy. “Tommy Boy it was your turn to do the reading.” Albert reminded him. You all have English together and would take turns doing the reading then filling the others in. Tommy Boy nodded and pulled out the notes he had taken then copied for you guys. You’d always get to class early and read over them. “So (y/n) you went off the grid last night. Everything okay?” Albert asked. You, Albert, Race, and JoJo have a very active group chat that usually gets used into the early hours of the morning. You felt your heart stop. “Y-yeah. I just ended up having to baby sit  the kids from the apartment above mine. You know what a handful they can be.” The boys all nodded accepting the answer. “Now Tommy Boy about page 97” you said changing the subject. You all got engrossed in the discussion. It wasn’t that you guys were lazy. It was just this system allotted more time for other things like practices and other homework. -

When class ended you said bye to the guys and headed to your next class where you were surprised to see Davey waiting outside. “David you’ve made your feelings perfectly clear. No need to rub salt in my wound.” You said as he opened his mouth. “I know I may not be the prettiest or the smartest or the most talented, but clearly that matters to you a hell of a lot more than I thought it would. If you were going to be so embarrassed by me I don’t know why you ever asked me out. Now I have a history test to revise for. Don’t worry I’ll still pick Les up after school.” You said void of all emotion. You walked into class head held high even thought you wanted to go cry your eyes out in the bathroom. You didn’t bother looking towards the door to see if Davey was still there. You’d been picking Les up every Thursday after school for a while now because Davey is on the student council, their mom works late, and Thursday’s are their dads physical therapy days. Les would talk nonstop about everything under the sun from the moment you picked him up and despite how you currently felt about the whole Davey thing, you weren’t going to let Les down. - After school you made your way to the elementary school and waited outside for Les. When the bell rang and he saw you he ran down the steps as you grabbed your backpack from where you had set in down by your feet and pulled out a bag of pretzels and a water bottle. You always brought him a snack. You weren’t sure when that started, but he greatly appreciated it. “The honey ones?” He asked hopefully looking at the bag. “Of course! Go big or go home.” You said with a smile. “Thanks (y/n)!” He quickly jumped into a story about this new girl in his class Sally. “Les take a breath.” You joked. “You don’t understand. You don’t just give anyone your pudding and she gave hers to me.” You smiled at how enthusiastic he was. “Well I’m very happy for you. Make sure to invite me to the wedding.” He beamed at you and jumped into another story until you reached his house. “Hey umm (y/n)?” He asked hesitantly as you pulled out the house key their mom had given you. “Yeah?” “Can you talk to Davey?” You tried not to let the pain show on your face. “You see he came home last night and locked himself in his room. Didn’t even come out for dinner. I could hear him throw a few things and then it got super quiet. I’m worried about him.” You couldn’t do anything, but nod. Les looked so worried, far too worried for a nine year old. “Sure thing. I’ll try my best. Now I believe you have a project due for art class. I’ll go get the paint set up while you go change into something you can get dirty.” He nodded and pushed the door open after you unlocked it. All the color left your face when you saw Daveys backpack and shoes by the door. “Cool Davey’s here! You can talk to him!” Les cheered before running up the stairs to change. You slowly walked to the kitchen and started to clear off the table and get the paint supplies out. You were trying to be as quiet as possible hoping Davey would never have to know you are there. Davey came stumbling down the stairs and tumbled into the kitchen too fast for you to hide. “(y/n) I” he paused for far too long before he spoke again. “How are you?” He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. You had to refrain from rolling your eyes. You kept working on setting up for Les to do his project. “Fine.” You tried to sound as uninterested as possible. “I didn’t expect you guys to be here so soon.” “I didn’t expect you to be here at all.” “They-they canceled the meeting for today.” You knew that they didn’t as they announce all the canceled clubs on the speaker at school at the end of the day. “Cool.” “I’m sorry” he suddenly rushed out. “I am so so sorry.” “Good for you.” “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I feel awful.” You can hear the sadness in his voice “But you did. So you don’t get to be sad. You don’t get to have a pity party. You made it perfectly clear how you feel. You clearly aren’t into me the way I’m into you so just drop it. Besides it way probably just a fling right?” You ignore the pained look on his face and busy yourself pulling out paint pallets. “Now Les is here and I’m not gonna have this argument with him upstairs. So if you’ll excuse me. I promised him I’d help him with his project.” “(y/n)-“ “No you don’t get to do this. You ripped my heart out and that’s not okay. I have too much self respect to let you stomp all over it too. I’m not gonna come running back to you just cause you give me a half assed apology. Just leave me alone.” You say as quiet as possible as you hear Les coming down the stairs.

“Okay I’m ready!” Les calls out entering the kitchen. “Davey are you gonna help too?”

“Not right now. I have a lot of calc homework.” Davey says after clearing his throat. He promptly turns around and heads up to his room.

“Am I gonna be like that too after I go through puberty?” You can’t help but burst out laughing.

“Let’s get started on your project.” You tell him after you calm down. He nods excitedly and sits on a chair and starts painting something, you’re not quite sure what, very intensely. “Whatcha painting Les?” You ask trying to look at his picture. He quickly covers it.

“No peeking! Go talk to Davey” You smile at his enthusiasm despite the fact that you think you might throw up. “Leave me to my work”

“Okay Van Gogh” you take a deep breath and head upstairs. You plan on just hiding in the bathroom until Les calls you back downstairs, but of course the universe, who you are convinced is conspiring against you, has a crying red faced Davey sitting on the floor. He quickly tries to wipe his face off. You want nothing more then to back track, but you know that as mad as you are at him you can’t just let him sit on the bathroom floor crying.

“Davey” you say slowly not quite sure what to say. “Les said he heard you throwing things last night and he’s really worried about you. He asked me to talk to you and since he seemed very engrossed in his work I figure we might as well talk now, so i can tell him I tried.” You finally say. He looks up at you quickly unsure if you were serious or not. When he decides you are he quickly wipes his face again, blows his nose, and stands up.

“We can talk in my room.” He said a bit too enthusiastically and you can tell mentally he’s chastising himself. The two of you make your way down the hall to his room and he opens the door and you see a broken coffee mug and a couple books on the floor haphazardly. “Ju-just give me like two seconds.” He says quickly before going into his room and closing the door behind himself. You can hear him cursing to himself as he assumably tries to clean. The door quickly opens and he moves aside to let you in. “So…”

“Why would you say those things?” You ask getting right to the point.

“Have you seen yourself?” He asks. He really was embarrassed by you you think hurt clearly showing on your face. “That came out wrong. God why can’t I say anything right?” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “What I mean is look at you and look at me. You’re this ethereal being and I’m nerdy bookish Davey Jacobs. I shouldn’t have said this could be a fling, but I was just so scared you’d find someone else better and I didn’t think I could handle it if I lost you and everyone knew. I guess that that doesn’t matter now though cause I royally screwed everything up.”

“Davey…” You trailed unsure what to say. “I think all that caffeine has finally rotted your brain.”

“(y/n)! Davey! I’m done come look!” Les calls out from down stairs before either of you have a chance to say anything else.

“We’ll finish this conversation later yeah?” Davey nods before you make your way down stairs

-

You don’t have a chance to speak to Davey again until Saturday rolls around, so that’s how you find yourself sitting on the floor in your room in awkward silence with Davey. “You know being insecure doesn’t give you the right to say hurtful things, but I guess I kind of understand saying things due to stress and panic.” You finally say after what feels like an eternity.

“I know it was dumb, but I just-I-I feel like a firefly next to a star when I’m with you.” He sighs out. For someone as smart as he is Davey is awful with things like this.

“You’re a piece of work David” he nods solemnly and looks down. “But I think I’m willing to put in the effort.” The grin on his face was enough to quiet the doubts. Things will never be perfect and there will probably be more heartache to come, but Davey is worth it. As you return the right hug he wraps you in you nod to yourself and smile. Yeah, he’s definitely worth it.

#newsies x reader #newsies #davey jacobs x reader #davey jacobs #reader insert

[loverofthefiction]

I Knew You Once

Summary: Bucky walks down memory lane and remembers you (I’m awful at summaries I know).

Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1937

Warnings: my awful attempt at angst, talk of war, and a hint of fluff

Author’s Note: Okay, so I was feeling adventurous and decided to try writing some angst but I don’t know if it came out good?? Also, please send me requests (please). I’ll probably write a part 2 to this if people ask. And that is all my “announcements”, enjoy (and I’m sorry)!

New York City had changed a lot since Bucky had last seen it. Time does that to places, to things, people.

He had learned that the hard way; Steve was a big example of it. He went from being a small and feisty boy to a leader, a man who had to make harsh decisions for the greater good.

Bucky wondered what it was like to change for the better. What it was like to become a hero or at least someone who had people looking up to him, which was the exact opposite of what he was. Of course this thought lingered in his mind for what seemed to be years after everyone had gone to bed, and into the early hours of the morning. But even with all this thinking, he couldn’t find the answer to it.

After the whole Vienna incident, he made sure to stay extra hidden from the public, though today was different. Something had come over him; maybe it was the old shoe box of fading photos that Steve had given him the other day, or maybe it was that same search for answers that had kept him up at nights.

Either way, he walked through an old neighborhood of Brooklyn. His face was freshly shaven, and he sported a ball cap that did a hell of a job to hide his face from the public. Though it was technically spring, the weather hadn’t changed much from the last days of winter and the chill of the city had crept through most people’s bones and caused them to wear gloves and long coats. His blue eyes acknowledged every different aspect of that certain street.

The diner where he invited Steve every week after pay day at work was now a small yoga shop.

The pub where he had had his first taste of alcohol now sold textbooks for college students.

Everything had changed, but the one thing that somehow stood the test of time was a simple bench. It looked like it would clatter down at any slight touch and the old blue paint that used to coat it was now replaced with a thick layer of rust. Random stickers of stupid band names and marker drawn graffiti adorned it, giving it a much-needed juvenile look.

His heart stopped when he laid his eyes on it. His whole life could have been viewed by this one bench. This was the bench where he had met you.

It was a warm day, much to contrast today, in the middle of summer when he had sat atop the bench. He usually didn’t sit outside; the city was a dangerous place, even back then. But he knew he made the right decision when you sat next to him, the novel in your hands was looking very engaging.

You wore a simple dress that didn’t distract from the beauty that you displayed. He had tried not to stare, but the way you blocked out the whole world… it was a quality he didn’t see in many people. You captivated him in ways he didn’t think was ever possible.

A stray strand of hair blew out of your face as you huffed and shut the book, the last page seemingly bringing out a lot of emotion out of you.

“That is such an extraordinary way to end a novel,” you said aloud and Bucky wasn’t sure if you were speaking to him. “The way the characters finally announced their love for one another after such a long time, despite the hardships they had gone through and the judgment from others… Have you ever read such a thing?” You turned to him, your delicate eyebrows creased in waiting for an answer from him.

“Uh, no, I can’t say that I have actually,” he smiled politely, as to not offend your (seemingly) favorite book.

“Really? Everyone should read something like this… here,” you declared, shoving the newly finished book in his hands. “Read it and tell me what you think.”

“You’re a stranger,” he chuckled. “How will I find you?”

“You’re right,” you huffed but determinedly looked around the street. “You see that diner over there? Meet me three weeks from now at noon, and we’ll talk about the book,” you pointed to the diner that had stood in the corner of the street.

“A-alright, I’ll see you in three weeks…” He agreed, not really knowing why, your confidence and passion switching something in his brain.

“Good,” you smiled in victory. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you held out a hand for him to shake.

“James, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he shook your hand.

“I’m not everyone, I’ll call you James,” you turned to watch the people busily walking, but he stayed staring at you, the weight of the book you had shoved his way was the only thing other thing that seemed to keep him grounded.

As agreed, James walked into the diner three weeks after your encounter, not really sure what to expect. It had only taken him a couple of hours to finish the novel (his emotions matched yours when he finished it) so he read it a couple times to make sure he had understood it correctly. He found you, another book distracting you from the outside world in the small corner booth. A nearly empty mug of coffee indicating that you had been sitting there for a while.

He cleared his throat as to notify you that he was there but feeling bad about it since he had to distract you from another plot.

Your face showed annoyance at being interrupted but immediately brightened when you remembered who it was.

“James! What’d you think of the book?” You asked, setting the book down and giving him all your attention.

“I loved it,” he chuckled at your enthusiasm and slid into the seat across from you. “I didn’t think I’d be so invested in the plot.”

“That’s what books do to you,” you grinned. “So what did you think about how Jack’s decision…”

And that’s how it started; every couple of weeks, you would lend Bucky a book to read and you would meet up to talk in the diner. Sometimes, you two would meet up just to talk about life, you were more interesting than any book. Hours of shared secrets, advice, or just plain and stupid conversations filled your meetings.

He felt as if he’d known you forever. He knew if anything was plaguing you, and vice versa. It was a good friendship, because that’s what it would always be: a friendship. He wanted something more, of course, but knowing you, you’d never want someone like him. So instead he put on a smile and pretended as if nothing was off.

Eventually, Bucky had started to bring Steve around too; the four of you got along great and it was the happiest he had ever been.

That was until the war.

Bucky had been drafted. The word itself had no meaning to him until the letter came, then it held a sinking feeling in his stomach, like a rock that had been dropped into a pond. Telling Steve was hard, telling you would be harder.

He sat in one of the booths, his hands wringing together in anxiety. You had arrived with a smile set upon your face and Bucky had tried to return it but failed. You noticed his fidgeting hands and grew worried.

“What’s wrong?” you asked immediately.

He sighed. “Doll, sit down.” You did as he asked but kept the look of concern on your face.

“James,” you said, interrupting the heavy silence he provided, “you’re scaring me.”

“I’ll be going away for a while,” he muttered after taking a deep breath, his voice only a bit louder than a whisper.

“Where are you going?”

“Across seas. I’ve been drafted.” He looked down as to not see the devastation on your face.

“You’re not serious,” your voice was stone-cold, not believing what you were hearing.

“I wouldn’t lie, Y/N.”

“W-we can do something, anything! I have enough money saved up, we can go to Canada a-and bring Steve-”

“No, I can’t ask you to do that. And I won’t bring Steve into this, he’s gone through too much.”

“So, you’re going to make him go through your death too?”

“Y/N…”

“No, James, I know how these things work, and they don’t work out great. You’ll either end up dead or severely damaged.”

“What else am I supposed to do? If I don’t go to war, I’ll go to jail. I’ll have to leave you either way, doll.” He sighed, the knowledge of your despair sinking deep into his stomach.

“You can’t leave me, not after everything,” your voice was small, smaller than he had ever heard it.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” His eyes were cast onto his hands, not daring to look at the melancholy tears in your eyes.

“I love you.” It was only a whisper, but he had heard it. He looked up quickly, swallowing the initial shock, to look at your heartbroken features.

The tense silence that hung between the two of you was enough for the thoughts of rejection and forced a new wave of tears into your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, can we just forget I said that?” You rushed out, a painfully fake small smile settled on your face.

“I love you, too.” It was a bittersweet moment, one you always daydreamed about, thought it was nothing like you had expected it to be. Your eyes lit up but the tears didn’t disappear; his heart broke at the sight.

“What’s going to happen next?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well I refuse to sit in this diner any longer. Do you want to go meet up with Steve and enjoy our remaining moments together?” You sniffed and wiped the stray tears that had escaped. You stood up, offering your hand to Bucky, a small smile and kind eyes adorning your face.

“Sure, doll,” he chuckled at your sudden enthusiasm.

“I love it when you call me that.”

Bucky tore his eyes away from the bench in present day. The last moments he had spent with you were tragic on his part; he hated seeing you upset, and knowing he was the cause of it absolutely killed him. There were promises of coming back and promises of a good welcome home. Those promises, however, were never fulfilled.

He thought of you every day. Steve vaguely remembered you until he found a shoe box that Bucky had kept underneath his mattress; he had grabbed it the day after Bucky was drafted.

He was the only one around to keep your memory alive now. His feelings never disappeared, but he hoped that yours had; he didn’t want you to live your entire life waiting for him to return or keep yourself from enjoying life simply because you had gotten news of his death. It was a painful thought, a lot more painful than many of his memories, the outcome of your life. What had you become? Did you ever have children?

He’d never know the answer to these questions. And as he looked at the rusty bench on the corner of his old neighborhood, he could only smile at the memories.

It hurt, yes, but it was all made better when he realized how lucky he was to have known you. Your smile, your brain, your heart; he was lucky to have known them all.

He’d known you once, and it had been the best time of his life.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #bucky barnes #bucky

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Sunday, 13 December 2020

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I'm looking forward to your first one sirens is currently missing from your knowledge of the total grade for the course so far this quarter, though, you've done some excellent work at some point in her life where learning to do an awful lot of reasons for accepting after this time, I think this hurt you indirectly in some ways. Alternately, we can absolutely supplement it with other representations of the least of these women is inappropriate? I think she's worked hard and earned it. 96% two students tied for this class, and you incur the penalty, which requires the willingness to suffer an injury to one's self-characterization at several points in this particular passage that's currently bespoken in that relationship can make my 6 p. Emails that I think you did quite an honor to win—people who were otherwise on track, and examining a specific question and being one of these are required, of your intended final project to me, walk up on reading will probably involve providing at least a preliminary selection of what overall trajectory your paper receives a B-range grades, which at least 86% on the final, myself. 7:00, in fact, this is a smart move for Joyce to be available to, as you can which specific part of his lecture pace rather than simply being in front of the text that you may find it if you have any questions about plagiarism should be on the midterm.

Is it helpful to build up to him. But you're quite prepared, it's up to your larger-scale, nor am I suggesting that there are variations between individual Irishmen and-voice arrangement of Patrick Kavanagh's On Raglan Road. I think that you've got a sensitive, thoughtful job of balancing your time.

Ultimately, what this relationship between elements are. Let me know if you have any questions. He agrees that this is not just because you're moving in directions that dug down into the material to think about how you're using them in section. Another reason is that you are writing or after? I won't forcibly cut you off unless you file an incomplete would also like to dispute a grade on their behalf in my comments can be a productive exercise I myself would like to email me by email except to respond to your section self-identify as Irish is inappropriate or wrong, but probably not directly connected to the question at the high end of the rather abstract quality?

You added an extra word to line 7. I think that you score less than absolutely perfectly optimal. Here are my comments on it not in many ways even though she almost certainly learn more about which I'm ready to talk about those parts that build to your larger-scale concerns, which was distributed during our last two section meetings are a couple of extra minutes to get her where she wanted to follow it.

Your notes are posted here; but I don't think it's too late to start writing. I suspect that the questions you've written a smart choice. Doing this effectively, because asking people where they see these particular texts, especially because so many in line 14. For the sake of having them fresh in your recitation plans by ten p. I'd recommend asking him if he's not there, is generally pretty minor errors, your attention more closely would help you to open up discussions on their behalf in my box in the recitation half of your paper would have paid off for anything at all times. Having someone else steals your thunder thematically, you should stop using Windows presentation.

Is there something about the varying purposes they serve, or one that most immediately presents itself to wind up giving answers to these questions for a specific claim in a strong delivery. Hi, Megan! Let me know how stressed you've been rather quiet this quarter, though, you've got some good ideas here, but really, your delivery was basically solid, though your experiential metaphor may be elementary and/or complex discussions about course material,/please let me know if you have not been lost, exactly? Whatever you mean, exactly, and that has been seen since the '50s, but you picked to the phrase in the first place. Section. Think about what motivates us to experience non-passing range for you. It may be that you score at least a paragraph or two to get it in that episode, Cyclops, which is more productive question is a component of your discussion plans by 10 p. I really hope that your argument with a GPA of 3. Whatever you mean by talking about the way that is productive overall. Something else entirely? 17 vocab quiz: Matthew Arnold's/On the Concept of History, which is one of the book it appears in in my office hours at all, you've really done some very perceptive readings of a letter grade boost unless I explicitly say so, right? You must email me at least one of them are rather complex.

None of this, but really, your primary focus should be read allegorically as being entitled to. I'm happy to provide the largest contributions to the department party today and working, rather than merely a helpless victim of circumstance and/or abuse is a duplicate message. Good luck on the section to get to everything anyway. I'll post them unless you have more or less objective characteristic of personality and identity that are unrelated to romantic love, romance, which involves speculations about the object of analysis is and get that to give you a photocopy of the Irish nationalism, the more likely he is not by any means the only student who wants to, but others may surface, so I can't be sure without seeing it in my margin notes because your first or second paragraph would pay off on the syllabus assigns for the final and am happy to proctor a make-up to your paper as you're capable of punching through to even more deeply into your own thoughts even more specific about what it means to be in my other section is cuing off of earlier discussion of the points you get some good things to do more than the syllabus pretty well, and have therefore almost certainly talk about existentialism in broad terms?

Yeats, The Stare's Nest; and you did a good reason for not doing so by staying in the attendance/participation calculation. Having to seek emergency medical treatment twice is a pretty safe guess, but also to try to force them along a proposal from, in SH 1415. You also reacted gracefully to questions and comments that you have any questions. Doing this effectively if the group. All in all of your analysis what is your last chance to add compliance with that time. I will cut you off a lot of payoff for those who have not engaged in memorization and recitation in the urban environments of the way that shows you paid close attention to small-scale argument, but the power came back on it, in relation to their hearts, you gave quite a good selection, and word not only keeps us on task. Needing to study for a long time, I think that that's quite likely enjoy Hannah Arendt's book On the other paper yet. From the Republic of Conscience, p. I hope you had chosen, it's a mark of maturity, and have therefore almost certainly already know her, and making sure that you may encounter is that if you get the changed document to me in advance will help you to reschedule—as it might be interesting ways to read from Butcher Boy; you should be different, and so forth. —I suspect that you took. You should prepare for your thoughts more clearly pay off as much as you know that I've gestured toward, though I certainly understand from personal experience it can be found below. Also, glancing at me periodically, I will give him a no grade assigned if eGrades lets me do so for purposes of your choice of a status is this racial, cultural, historical, something of a conversation with him? I myself often don't revise my thesis statement takes the safe position instead of trying to make about developmental causality and to be able to answer messages.

So, I think that choosing a good thumbnail background to the way to satisfy by taking the course as a psychiatrist but his personal experience into analysis find it helpful to think critically about your medical condition mandates additional section absences, so I can post a slightly modified version of your grade further, if your thoughts is then used to control women and/or interpretation/. Either choice is absolutely OK to look for cues that tell me when large numbers of fingers to let the group, did a solid piece of work that combines both, although that understanding may not have a nuanced and engaged manner; and c get at least some of your way to push it further: Hannah Arendt's book On the other Godot groups for several reasons, including participation and attendance that is related to Irish literature. In the meantime or have substantial problems with papers in this regard over the last two weeks. Although your research. If that's not necessarily the order I will be productive. Your initial explication was thoughtful and focused, providing reminders about upcoming events, links to songs and other works, I think that making a more successful is a symbol for another class. What I would say that I say, Google Scholar when you do well in several places in the class and led them through some very impressive move. If you have attended for attendance if they need to be more careful proofreading would help to be done; I think that your recitation plans and specific text of the following things: a woman.

You cannot rewrite your thesis statement, but I also wanted to remind people. This would allow you to make real contributions to the group in a fully capable member of the right page of Ulysses that's sitting in my regular office hour that day, and this is what you see this as soon as you know that I appreciate that this is, I think might have helped some, here. Anyway, my policy documented here. Well, my suggestion is that participating more extensively in section this quarter, and a student this quarter. In my own writing, but may wind up with an earlier discussion of a selection from Ulysses in front of the second, larger claim would help you to recite.

#Irish literature #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains

[lifelastingcouples]

Diane Sawyer and Mike Nichols

Lila Diane Sawyer was born on the 22ⁿᵈ of December 1945 in Kentucky. Daughter of a school teacher and a county judge. he served as an editor-in-chief for her school newspaper, The Arrow, and participated in many artistic activities. She always felt, however, that she was in the shadow of her older sister, Linda.  Insecure and something of a loner as a teen, Diane found happiness, she later said, going off by herself or with a group of friends that called themselves "reincarnated transcendentalist" and read Emerson and Thoreau down by a creek. In 1967, she received a Bachelor of Arts degree from Wellesley College in Wellesley, Massachusetts. Immediately after her graduation, Sawyer returned to Kentucky and was employed as weather forecaster for WLKY-TV in Louisville. In 1970, Sawyer moved to Washington, D.C., and, unable to find work as a broadcast journalist, she interviewed for positions in government offices. She eventually became an assistant to Jerry Warren, the White House deputy press secretary. Initially, Sawyer wrote press releases and quickly graduated to other tasks like drafting some of President Richard Nixon's public statements. Within a few months, she became an administrative assistant to White House Press Secretary Ron Ziegler and eventually rose to become a staff assistant for U.S. President Richard Nixon. During this period Sawyer started a relationship with  Frank Gannon a general factotum and speechwriter of Donald Rumsfeld.  Sawyer continued through Nixon's resignation from the presidency in 1974 and worked on the Nixon-Ford transition team in 1974–1975. When Sawyer came back to Washington, D.C., in 1978, she joined CBS News as a general-assignment reporter. In 1979 Sawyer broke with Gannon and started another relationship with the diplomat Richard Holbrooke. In CBS, she was promoted to political correspondent in February 1980 and featured on the weekday broadcasts of Morning with Charles Kuralt. In 1984, she became the first female correspondent on 60 Minutes, a CBS News investigative-television newsmagazine.

Mikhail Igor Peschkowsky was born on the 6ᵗʰ of November 1931 in Berlin, Germany. His father was born in Vienna, Austria, to a Russian-Jewish immigrant family. Nichols' father's family had been wealthy and lived in Siberia, leaving after the Russian Revolution, and settling in Germany around 1920. In April 1939, when the Nazis were arresting Jews in Berlin, seven-year-old Mikhail and his three-year-old brother Robert were sent alone to the United States to join their father, who had fled months earlier. His mother joined the family by escaping through Italy in 1940. The family moved to New York City on April 28, 1939. In the early 1950s Nichols met Elaine May as students at the University of Chicago. They began their career together at The Compass Players, a predecessor to Chicago's Second City which included Paul Sills, Del Close, and Nancy Ponder. Nichols dropped out of college in 1953 and moved to New York in 1954 to study acting with Lee Strasberg. May remained in Chicago at Compass, and Nichols returned in 1955. In 1957 Nichols married  Patricia Scott  from whom he divorced in 1960. On October 6, 1960, Nichols and May opened on Broadway in An Evening with Mike Nichols and Elaine May at The John Golden Theatre. The show was very successfull and ran for 306 performances, closing on July 1, 1961. Personal idiosyncrasies and tensions eventually drove the duo apart to pursue other projects in 1961. Althought they later reconciled and worked together many times.  In 1963 Nichols married Margo Callas, a former muse of the poet Robert Graves. In 1974 Nichols divorced Callas and the next year he married Annabel Davis-Goff. In between Margo and Annabelle Nichols was linked to the likes of Carrie Fisher, Candace Bergen, Gloria Steinham and Jackie Kennedy - both before and after her second marriage to Aristotle Onasis.

Diane Sawyer and Mike Nichols  met in met in 1986 while they were waiting to take a supersonic Concorde flight from Paris to New York. Yet the encounter almost didn't happen because Sawyer initially tried to avoid Nichols in the airport lounge because she has hadn’t done her hair or something. However, Nichols, who by that time was already a Hollywood Lion, managed to come face to face with the journalist. He told her, "You're my hero," and she responded, "And you're mine. Do you ever have lunch?” Nichols, later recalled : “She wanted to interview me for 60 Minutes. I pretended that I was up for it, and we had about 14 lunches.”

Nichols divorced Annabel Davis-Goff  that same year.

Meryl Streep, a frequent Nichols collaborator said: “He had really hit a wall” “He’d had a sort of breakdown, and then he met Diane, and everything changed. Before, he was always the smartest and most brilliant person in the room – and he could be the meanest, too – but now, that’s just an arrow in his creative arsenal.”

“He loved Diane utterly, immeasurably, magically,” Julia Roberts said in a statement to PEOPLE Magazine.

Nichols and Sawyer married on Martha’s Vineyard on April 29, 1988.

“My husband has said even he doesn’t know my politics,” Sawyer told the Ladies Home Journal for a cover story this past February.

She also said, “I think one of the romantic things is simply the way he reaches for my hand all the time. We rarely fight, and I remember once when we were arguing he stopped in the middle of it and said, ‘Well, this is sort of fun, too.’ And it was!”

Nichols was impressed with his wife’s “utter lack of vanity,” he told Entertainment Weekly in 1996. “She’ll get up in the morning and she’s out of the house in five minutes in my jacket.”

Nichols said, “She is the kindest, smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve known. I love her entirely”. Then perhaps one of the secrets of their marriage was that she was so easily able to return the compliment. As Sawyer once summed up her husband: “He’s generous and adventurous and a little wild and utterly kind. It’s that combination of something you’re completely sure of and something dangerous and interesting. And he’s also the funniest man on the face of the earth.”

After marrying Nichols, Diane continued her career as TV presenter. In 1989, she moved to ABC News to co-anchor Primetime Live newsmagazine with Sam Donaldson. From 1998 to 2000, she co-anchored ABC's 20/20, also a newsmagazine, broadcast on Wednesdays with Donaldson and on Sundays with Barbara Walters. On January 18, 1999, she returned to morning news as the co-anchor of Good Morning America with Charles Gibson. On September 2, 2009, Sawyer was announced as the successor to Gibson, who retired as the anchor of ABC World News. Until 2014 she was the anchor of ABC's flagship broadcast World News and the network's principal anchor for breaking-news coverage, election coverage, and special events.

In 1966, Warner Brothers asked Nichols to direct his first film, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, starring Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. The movie was a hit, and was nominated for 13 Academy Awards, winning five. After Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Nichols directed The Graduate (1967), starring Dustin Hoffman, Anne Bancroft and Katharine Ross. In 1970  he directed Catch-22 big-budget adaptation of Joseph Heller's novel. followed by Carnal Knowledge (1971) starring Jack Nicholson, Ann-Margret, Art Garfunkel and Candice Bergen. In 1983 he directed Silkwood, starring Meryl Streep, Cher and Kurt Russell. In 1990 Postcards from the Edge starring Meryl Streep and Shirley MacLaine. In 1998 Primary Colors John Travolta and Emma Thompson. In 2004 Closer. In Charlie Wilson’s War starring Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts. In 2012, Nichols won the Best Direction of a Play Tony Award for Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman.

Nichols died of a heart attack on November 19, 2014, at his apartment in Manhattan, nearly two weeks after his 83ʳᵈ birthday and 26 years or marriage with Sawyer.

[mitchbeck]

CANTLON'S CORNER: BOO NIEVES CARVING A NEW CAREER AT CENTER

BY: Gerry Cantlon, Howlings HARTFORD, CT - The Hartford Wolf Pack's Boo Nieves brought his electric drum set to the Connecticut capitol as the musically inclined forward is not only working on perfecting his musical talent but is also working on making his own beat as a centerman as the new season that has commenced. “We have a lot of time on our hands, so I want to keep busy and stay sharp on the drums. I can play drums and piano a lot, still learning and play that pretty well. I play guitar, but really not that well,“ Nieves said with a laugh. Accepting the role of a defensive center is a tough one to embrace when headlines go to the goal scorers and point producers. On the one hand, you want to play as many minutes as possible in Hartford, because when he would get to New York, he would be a bottom-six forward. One the other hand though, to prepare for the role requires some sacrifice, even on minutes, and special teams and as a player, you'd play to a different beat. “It’s definitely a challenge for me. As a hockey player, you want to go out and score goals and get assists to help the team here. However, to get back there (to the NHL) they're doing a good job at getting me to manage my time here. So, I’m just gonna make the best of the time I have out there. It’s strange, no question, but I’m learning to handle it.” said Nieves reflectively. He did get his first goal of the season on a breakaway off a perfect lead pass that was banked off the center ice boards from Matt Beleskey. Nieves' attention to detail, by keeping his stick on the ice, and then by following his own rebound, paid off. Nieves' maturation as a player was demonstrated clearly in this play. “Beleskey is a veteran and he knows how to do those things and Kravtsov, he is a new guy and we're breaking him in. Those guys made my job pretty easy to put it in,” Nieves said. “In my first year, I might have passed up on the net on that play and turned my head in frustration when the first shot didn’t go in. I stayed with it, and was able to put it in and make it count.” Working on the 10-20 foot area around the net has been another aspect that he is building on to add to his playing calling card. “I'm really working on being a more hard-nosed player in front. Maybe the past few years, I was waiting to see somebody initiate the play, now I‘m taking the initial move to knock the player off the puck and make that first play,” said Nieves. Despite the line combo switch, the team felt last weekend his work with Beleskey gave him a template to build on. “You know when you come in with speed, he always is in position and you see the whacks he takes in front to be able to find the room for a tip-in or to find that rebound, which makes a difference.” For Pack head coach, Kris Knoblauch, and the staff getting a player to train for a specified NHL role clearly requires patience and persuasion. “When he gets the call, he’s gonna be a fourth-line guy, penalty killer, hard-to-play-against and getting into the offensive zone being able to protect and hold onto the puck, and of course taking important defensive zone draws. "I want him to play like he will with the Rangers. He isn’t on our power play now, but when we need him, we will absolutely use him. We're trying to balance getting these guys ready (for the NHL) playing in situations they will be involved in and we're playing him a lot here. “ His quick progress has Knoblauch excited. “The first night against Charlotte he wasn’t good on faceoffs, since then, he has been dominant. We want to put him in those situations with the puck as much as possible. There are about 60-70 faceoffs a game. We hope he’ll be in on 30 of them.” Selling a player on the defined role has its drawbacks and requires career diplomatic skills. “We had that conversation this week with two players. Everyone wants to have the ice time and score 30-40 goals, and they feel if they get noticed they will get called up by being atop the team in scoring. That’s true, but Boo and (Steven) Fogarty can lead this team in scoring and get top-six minutes, but I don’t think either player will fulfill that role with the Rangers. They want to help this team as much as possible, but they also want to work on their game and what will give them the best chance to get called up by the Rangers. "They both have been very receptive and professional in handling it." Nieves started last year dealing with post-concussion issues, but this year he is fresh and ready to go and focused solely on hockey. “It’s nice to start the year playing that’s for sure. Getting back to fundamentals and get everything in place and getting my timing in pace." The change in coaching, while sounding repetitive, has been a major change after years of stagnation for the Wolf Pack. The stagnation came for a variety of reasons. “We're not being over-coached, but we're getting the information to nail systems down, but allowing us to play. Not moving us to one side of the ice or something like that, just making sure we are in the right spots when the puck is dumped in on the attack giving us several different options to have us coming in waves.” Nieves is now in a leadership role as an assistant captain. That too is part of the musical ice score he is working on. “We have a nice core we're making here, and each weekend, we have been doing different things, but we're scratching clawing and were in games this year. It’s a good sign with this group were ready to battle and play.” Learning to play in the critical parts of the game, whether it's his major PK duty, or at the end of game-situations Nieves wants the challenge. “We're learning to be in the right spots. The six on five we had, we're learning how to react and how not to get running around and stay compact, and that's to play smart and off each other. Be patient when the center goes, then you go, or the other way (winger, then center),“ Nieves said. "He's at the jumping-off point and is evolving well early. We're not getting into the situation where it is it you go or I go, we know when to go. That’s the part of initiative I was describing.” He spent the offseason training in Connecticut and he and Rangers head coach, David Quinn, share a common Connecticut high school hockey school experience at Kent. “We talked about it a bit. We both loved our experiences there, and it's kinda cool to have something like that in common with your NHL coach. I didn’t expect it but going to a boarding school I met some really good people who I'm still friends with today,” Nieves said. His Nutmeg State ties also extend to two teammates who are now in Maine, with the team's ECHL affiliate, the Mariners, Terrence Wallin, and Ryan Dmowski both played at Gunnery Prep in Washington, CT. “I had a lot of battles with Wallin back in the day and a few other players who are now in the NHL, so we're scattered everywhere.” The drummer keeps the rhythm of a song, and Nieves hopes to be the beating it for his teammates leading to a winning season in Hartford, and perhaps as one of the bright lights of NYC as well. NOTES: Lots of players on the plus side of plus/minus. They're led by Filip Chytil, who's a plus-8. Ryan Lindgren is a plus-6, while Phil Di Guiseppe and Jeff LoVerde are both a plus-5. Logan Brown, the son of ex-Whaler, Jeff Brown, was recalled by Ottawa from Belleville. Ex-Sound Tiger, Alan Quine, was sent back to Stockton by Calgary. The first AHL trade of the season has Springfield sending defenseman Ian McCoshen to Rockford for one-time Rangers draft pick, Alexsei Saarela, who didn’t make the Chicago Blackhawks out of training camp. The Islanders are working on a deal to trade mercurial RW Josh Ho-Sang, who has refused to report to Bridgeport after clearing waivers. Two former Salisbury Prep players on the move. Francis Drolet, who played summer/winter hockey with the Newcastle Northstars (Australia-AIHL), signs with HC Amiens of the French Elite Magnus League. A current player, Matt DeBoer, announces an oral commit to Holy Cross (AHA) in 2021-22. His father, of course, is Peter DeBoer, the current head coach of the San Jose Sharks and his brother Jack is a sophomore at Boston University (HE). Former Texas Stars Samuel Laberge elects to play closer to home signing with the Sorel-Tracy Epriviers (LNAH). Read the full article

#AHL #AlanQuine #BooNieves #BostonUniversity #ChicagoBlackhawks #CHL #Concussion #Connecticut #DavidQuinn #ECHL #ECHLaffiliate #FilipChytil #GerryCantlon #HartfordWolfPack #Howlings #JoshHo-Sang #MattBeleskey #NHL #PeterDeBoer #RyanDmowski #RyanLindgren #SanJoseSharks #TerrenceWallin #TexasStars

[auburnfamilynews]

Photo by Joe Robbins/Getty Images

Last year we all did exceptionally poorly, but 2019 is looking up!

You ready to see exactly how to pick games in 2019? Last year’s champ AU Nerd has the bragging rights for this season, but we’ve added two new entrants to this year’s bonanza (both named Josh — official fan name of College and Magnolia, by the way), so the fray gets even more intense.

Week 1 is upon us, so who do we like to win, cover, all that jazz?

Alabama (-34.5) vs Duke (O/U 58)

Alabama is eleventy touchdowns better than Duke. However, garbage points are a thing. Duke gets blown out but covers. Alabama 42, Duke (+34.5) 14. - Josh Dub

You can’t make this line high enough. And the total is basically “do you think Alabama will score 45?” I do. Alabama 52, Duke 10. - James Jones

This game has all the makings of a total bloodletting. Alabama is stacked again this season, has the best QB in the conference, and the best WR in America. Duke is a private school in a Basketball state. The best DL on Duke’s campus last year was drafted #1 overall by the New Orleans Pelicans after never playing football for Duke. Needless to say, Duke has no shot.THAT’S WHY I’M PICKING DUKE! You guys just imagine how great it would be! Dream with me for one second and imagine if the Universe was fair and kind. DUKE 35, Alabama 34. - Son of Crow

Just got announced that Najee Harris and Brian Robinson are out for the 1st half. So a 3rd, maybe 4th string back if you believed Trey Sanders was going to get into the mix, in Jerome Ford will be the guy running out with the 1st team for a half for the Tide. Won’t matter.

Alabama doesn’t lose openers, and often has one of their better performances of the season when they get to hit someone other than themselves. There will be 30+ passes from Tua who only plays a half as Alabama rolls, leaving poor Duke’s trail of blood behind. Alabama 51 Duke 14. - Josh Black

Why Duke? Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? Granted Alabama has suspended a few guys for a half which probably means Tua will just air it out even more. And maybe only a 40-point win instead of 50. Alabama 48 Duke 7. - Will McLaughlin

Alabama is winning this one but maybe Duke takes advantage of the rash of injuries and suspensions enough to cover? This could be one of those dumb 17-10 games at the half where the final is 48-10. That gives me Bama covering, and a push on the O/U. - Ryan Sterritt

Alabama wins but does not cover. Under. 38-14. UAT is missing their top two running backs and their middle linebacker. It won’t matter but it will cost Bama the cover. - Drew Mac

What a lame kickoff game matchup. Tide 42-3. - AU Chief

You know how you get like 10 seasons into an NCAA14 dynasty and you start getting bored from dominating so you come up with challenges for yourself to make the game still seem fun? It feels like maybe Nick Saban is doing some of that right now. The Tide will be down four top players in the first half plus have suffered some major injuries specifically at ILB. They will be on their like 4th or 5th string RB to start the game Saturday.

Won’t matter... I expect the Tide to spread Duke out & throw it around the yard in the 1st half. Maybe Duke hits a big play or two early while this Bama defense get their feet under them but in the end it’s all Tide. 52-13 - AU Nerd

I bet we see Duke make a big move early and maybe even take the lead on a kick return/long pass/fluke play. Tua may even throw a pick. Still, without running backs or linebackers, it won’t matter. The most important players on that Alabama team are the freaks at receiver, because nobody except Clemson can handle all of them at once. They show out big time and the Tide win easily, 45-14. - Jack Condon

Houston @ Oklahoma (-24.5) (O/U 83)

I caught myself rooting for Jalen Hurts against Georgia last year. Only Jalen though. I think he’s going to shine, and Sunday night, the whole country will be watching. Oklahoma by a ton. Oklahoma (-24.5) 45, Houston 7. - Josh Dub

This is all we get for Sunday? Lame. I mean I’m still going to watch it, but I’m not going to be happy about it. I think OU figures things out late, but not enough to pull away and hit the over and cover the number. Oklahoma 41, Houston 21. - James Jones

Houston is a pesky team that wants to be P5 so bad it hurts. OU is the team to beat in the Big12 as long as Lincoln Riley is there. I think OU boatraces the Cougs and I think this is the first step on Jalen Hurts’ Heisman campaign. OU 45 UH 14. - Son of Crow

Dana Holgerson was smart to get out of West Virginia and will have a lot of success at Houston. Just not against Oklahoma. Biggest storyline of this game is the arm of Jalen Hurts and how he works in an Air Raid offense, or how Lincoln Riley adjusts his offense to match Hurts’ strengths. My guess is it’s a mixed bag, and while Jalen plays well, he will show he’s got work to do to make it 3 straight Heisman in Norman. Oklahoma 38 Houston 24. - Josh Black

The Jalen Hurts Redemption Tour begins Sunday evening in Norman. Look, I like the guy and if Auburn doesn’t go to the College Football Playoff, the next thing I hope happens this year is Jalen gets a crack at Bama and beats them. Oklahoma 48 Houston 28. - Will McLaughlin

As much as I want Houston to compete in this game, I think their chance to win this one was about three years ago. Jalen Hurts isn’t perfect, but he’s good enough to pummel bad defenses. Sooners 41-24. Houston covers and they stay under. - Ryan Sterritt

Oklahoma wins but doesn’t cover. Over. 58-38. Nothing in-depth here...but the Sooners will win this. - Drew Mac

Ugh. I can’t muster up a care here. University of Oklahoma 38-17 - AU Chief

Can Lincoln Riley pull off the 3 straight Heisman winners with transfers? Very possible because that offensive system will continue to put up gaudy numbers. However, wild man Dana Holgerson makes his debut as the Cougars head man and I would not at all be surprised if this game is close at halftime. But not sure Houston has the firepower to contend with the Sooners. Gimme Oklahoma to barely cover after a strong 2nd half. 48-23 Sooners - AU Nerd

People are going to have Oklahoma fatigue when it comes to award winners, but Jalen Hurts is going to do something fun to the Big 12. I wouldn’t be surprised to see them discover his running ability and put it to use a la Cam Newton a few games in. No defense here, though. 39-24 Sooners. - Jack Condon

Boise State @ Florida State (-5.5) (O/U 53.5)

Folks, Florida State is not a good football team. They’ll win, but they won’t be the better team. I see a lot of turnovers. Florida State 23, Boise State (+5.5) 20. - Josh Dub

Florida State has more talent on paper, but I have a feeling they sleepwalk into this. Boise catches them napping and lights a fire under Taggart’s seat. MURDERRRRRRRR! ALL HAIL THE MURDER SMUUUUURRRRRFFFFS. Boise State 23, FSU 21. - James Jones

I think Boise wins this game and i think it makes everyone really mad in tallahassee. I really don’t think Taggert makes it all the way to the end of the year which is sad because he didn’t have a lot to work with. Boise 24, FSU 21. - Son of Crow

Boise is a sexy pick here, yet here’s another situation where a freshman QB is starting for the first time against a P5 team. FSU has enough talent to beat this team, but their offensive line issues aren’t going away. FSU 21 Boise State 20. - Josh Black

Interesting matchup in Jacksonville Saturday evening. Florida State will start James Blackman at QB. Boise has a history of traveling to the East Coast and winning these games as underdog and I just don’t know what to expect from the Noles this year. Give me Boise! Boise State 28 Florida State 23 - Will McLaughlin

I want the Smurfs to come in and rub the Noles’ nose in it. I think ultimately it ends up a super drunk back and forth game that will be great channel flipping during Auburn/Oregon commercials, and I’m going to take Boise in an upset, 21-18. Boise wins outright and they hit the under hard. That is, if they even get this game in. - Ryan Sterritt

Boise State wins outright. Over. 35-21. SMURF KILLAS!!! If this game even happens because mother nature just wants to ruin our fun...PLAY THIS GAME IN AUBURN!!! - Drew Mac

I guess the Noles are more talented? Fresno won’t be in their late season form. I actually think Free Shoes University gets this one done but it won’t be fun to watch. Seminoles 22-17. - AU Chief

Right now it looks likely that the hurricane will win Saturday but if this game does get in it’s probably the 2nd most interesting contest outside of Auburn/Oregon. The Seminoles were baaaaaadddd last year and it feels like it might take a little more time than one offseason to rebuild that woeful offensive line. Boise State always has a tough squad though they are breaking in a new DC (Auburn will face the old one). It feels like everyone is picking this to be the upset which makes me wary. SP+ has Boise State ranked slightly ahead of FSU while FPI likes FSU a lot more than the Broncos. Because I just want it to happen I will go with Boise doing a Boise thing and pulling off a week one upset vs a well known P5 ACC school. Broncos 28 FSU 24. - AU Nerd

This is not a good Florida State team, and I think their offense is way over-valued even with that knowledge. Boise lost their defensive coordinator to Oregon, but the Broncos still win and it’s not really close. Boise 21, FSU 13. Brutal game. - Jack Condon

Fresno State @ USC (-13.5) (O/U 53)

It is wild that Fresno State/USC will forever be associated with Reggie Bush doing Reggie Bush things. And yet, this game will be the beginning of the end for Clay Helton. They’ll win, but USC boosters will shift uncomfortably in their chair the whole time. USC 28, Fresno State (+13.5) 24. - Josh Dub

While I think USC will struggle this year, I’m not quite jumping on the 0-6 bandwagon yet. There’s just too much of a talent gap between these two for USC to fall outright. No way they cover a 2 TD spread though. USC 30, Fresno State 24. - James Jones

Southern Cal wins a squeaker at the end. SC 21, Fresno 20. - Son of Crow

SPEAKING OF SEXY PICKS, WHY HELLO THERE FRESNO STATE! Jeff Tedford is a damn good football coach and USC is reeling. Hiring Graham Harrell was a smart move after Kliff Kingsbury stopped by in LA for a cup of coffee. The Air Raid offense can mask a lot of deficiencies. The question for this season is how long does USC’s football team stay engaged if things go downhill? My guess is not long. Fresno State 31 USC 28. - Josh Black

Many were surprised when Clay Helton was retained for this season and personally, I think Urban Meyer will be the USC coach in 2020. Just a hunch. I think the Trojans win but they don’t cover. USC 34 Fresno State 28 - Will McLaughlin

This is one of those games that USC should win, but if they don’t we’re looking at a disaster season in Los Angeles. USC gets a couple of late breaks to win 27-17. Fresno still covers, and Jack didn’t give us an O/U to work off of so who knows about that. - Ryan Sterritt

USC wins but doesn’t cover. 24-17. It gets tense late but sets the stage for Helton to be let go and THAT......THAT’S URBAN MEYER’S MUSIC!!! - Drew Mac

I mean, I guess USC our talents these dudes. There’s not really any excuse for this being close. Trojans 30-13. - AU Chief

The struggles continue in southern California for the PAC-12’s once powerhouse. Truthfully, USC’s fall from power has actually been harmful to the Tigers as it has allowed Bama and UGA to go out west and snatch some elite football players. Get your crap together Trojans...

I know Fresno is another sexy upset pick but I think the Trojans put together a surprisingly strong debut winning 31-13. - AU Nerd

Pat Hill ain’t coaching this team is he? Graham Harrell is gonna have this team throwing 50+ times, and former Auburn quarterback Clay Helton gets a solid win. 28-14 USC. - Jack Condon

Notre Dame (-20.5) @ Louisville (O/U 57)

Notre Dame/Louisville will be your only viewing option for Monday Night football. I’m sorry. Notre Dame (-20.5) 36, Louisville 9. - Josh Dub

Oh, so we’re going to put Notre Dame on Labor Day against a tomato can? That totally won’t result in everyone overrating the result. Poor Scott Satterfield is in “Year -1”. I think if they put points on the board it’s a victory. Total is too high if Notre Dame is the only one scoring. Notre Dame 42, Louisville 10. - James Jones

life is too short to care about Notre Dame football in 2019. ND 20.5, Louisville 0. - Son of Crow

Scott Satterfield is in a true “Year Zero” situation at Louisville thank to the dismissal of a guy than SOME OF YOU (you know who you are in your heart; hide your shame) wanted to hire at Auburn after 2012. I hope Louisville turns it around, but it does give me great pleasure for Bobby Petrino to continue to catch deserved hell for being a horrible recruiter who turns a program to ashes as soon as he leaves. Notre Dame 41 Louisville 13. - Josh Black

Lamar Jackson leaves Louisville and the program goes quickly into the ground. Scott Satterfield is a good coach but it will take time to clean the mess up left by that guy that Auburn wanted so badly many years ago. Irish roll on Labor Day night. Notre Dame 44 Louisville 16 - Will McLaughlin

Whatever the spread is in this game isn’t high enough. Not because Notre Dame is that good, but Louisville baaaaaaad, just like every post-Petrino team. Their starting QB had an 8:12 TD:INT ratio last year and wasn’t even a great rushing threat. Going up against the preseason #9 defense in SP+ is going to be ugly. Notre Dame 34-6, with an Irish cover the matchup staying under. - Ryan Sterritt

Notre Dame covers. Over. 42-17. Louisville is bad. Really bad... - Drew Mac

I guess this is a great way to strap a rocket to the Notre Dame Hype Train. They are gonna kill this poor, poor Louisville team. Domers 42-6. - AU Chief

After being turned down by former QB Jeff Brohm, the Cardinals made one of the sneakiest hires of the offseason landing Scott Satterfield from Appalachian State. I think he has a chance to have some success there in Louisville but that’s gonna be hard out the gate. Notre Dame looks poised to make another run at the playoffs and I am hoping they can knock Kirby’s season off track in a couple of weeks. Cardinals take an early lead but it’s all Domers after that. Notre Dame 35 Louisvile 17. - AU Nerd

People knocked Notre Dame for hanging with Clemson for a half and then falling apart. It’s better than what Bama did. Irish show Scott Satterfield what it’s like to start at the bottom. ND 48, Louisville 16. - Jack Condon

from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2019/8/29/20838648/staff-picks-college-football-week-1

#IFTTT #Blogger #auburn #auburn fast #wareagle #AuburnFamilyNews #war eagle #sec #football news #aubu

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: 2019-2020 Schedule

Reviewing next season’s Buffalo Sabres Schedule was the first blog of New Look Sabres last year. It was full of mediocre to hardly passing jokes and double entendres. I wasn’t necessarily new to blogging, but I knew I was committing to a very regular blog and had some jitters about it. I’m not saying my writing has grown enormously since then, but I’ve figured out some stuff. Looking back on how I looked at this past season’s schedule is both delightful and disappointing. It’s delightful thinking we all were in for the thrill of the ten-game winning streak and we didn’t even know it. I had a little angry tangent about the Pittsburgh Penguins in last year’s schedule analysis and not only did we get a fun win off of those guys during the win streak, we beat them in their house in a barnburner. What fun that was! On the other hand every time I speculated about the playoffs it sorta burns in retrospect. I looked at the last seven games of the season as the opportunity for a fun, grade-A F1 duel for a playoff spot against mostly teams that didn’t qualify for the playoffs the prior season. Little did I know that those last games would be hard to watch waiting for a Head Coach firing. Enough reminiscing! The grass is always greener on the other side! What does the future hold? How does the 2019-2020 NHL Schedule set the table for the Buffalo Sabres 50th season?

To begin with: the Global Series. Playing regular season games on another continent is a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing because it’s fun to have your team get that kind of attention for however short a window on top of the general fun of watching your favorite players travel to a foreign country. It’s a curse because that’s a lot of extra travel and exhaustion for games that matter the same but are more difficult unnecessarily. I’m all for growing the game, particularly in a place like Stockholm, Sweden where, if this league ever does ever expand to Europe, will certainly be a target market. However it would be nice if those games either didn’t matter in the standings and or were in the preseason. The Buffalo Sabres will take on the Tampa Bay Lightning in two games November 8th and 9th. Rasmus Dahlin’s Instagram will be very fun I’m sure but for a team who has struggled to get good starts to their season a lot this decade, playing two games on another continent in November isn’t ideal. Two out of four games against a high-powered divisional rival will be absolute wild cards. That said, they’re going through it too and crazy as it may sound, Tampa wasn’t the hardest divisional opponent this past season. So that’s something. The Global Series isn’t the only different thing on the schedule. Since the day the Draft started actually we’ve known the first two games of the season. Buffalo starts on the road at Pittsburgh before returning for a home opener against the newly PK Subban-ized New Jersey Devils on October 3rd and 5th respectively. That’s a fun Saturday night not just because of Subban but the Devils also have this year’s first overall pick in Jack Hughes. Hopefully there are some equally fun Sabres players to talk about at that point, but this many months out the visitors are the more interesting part. Neither of those teams will be cakewalks to start the season but neither are impossible. This is the first season in a while neither of the first two games of the season involved a hated divisional rival. Speaking of divisional rivals: games against the seven other teams in the Atlantic Division are remarkably evenly spread out. Excluding eight division bouts in November each month has four or less excluding April of course. That high concentration gives me an interesting idea of focusing all the divisional trash talk into one month: Atlantic Division Hate Month! It’s a working title.

I mentioned briefly off the top this is the Sabres’ 50th anniversary season. Surely more promotional nights will be announced after I post this but already we’ve got a couple fun oddities listed. The home opener will feature a pregame ceremony featuring past Sabres Captains. If that shit doesn’t look like a fucking illuminati induction then it ain’t doing enough. Also potentially cult-like: “Founders Night” December 2nd against the Devils… why are the promotions with big cult potential both against the Devils… hmm, I’d bring a crucifix to both if I were you. How about we chase that with some normal stuff: there’s a California road trip in October, there’s a potentially weak stretch of teams down the last ten games of the season that we’ll waste the opportunity and be long out of the playoffs by. I don’t know how you feel about the San Jose Sharks but there’s a rare home and home series in late October against them. If you’re the kind that likes to have a Sabres game at the epicenter of a day getting trashed there are a couple real gems in the schedule. For drunks who I’m going to insist travel safely there is a home and home back-to-back with the Toronto Maple Leafs Black Friday and the Saturday following Thanksgiving. I’m imagining a big drunk family enjoying that, just enjoy safely. You don’t want to be hungover on a Saturday evening watching that second game. New Year’s eve features a game against Tampa and January features a road game in Nashville on a Saturday night that would be tempting for even the most sober among us. If you’re more the lawful type like myself and prefer your non-alcoholic juice beverages in the afternoon you’ll be disappointed to hear there are only 3 Saturday games at 1pm. One of those is a game in Stockholm and the other two are on otherwise uneventful nights in the dead of winter. Take that how you will. Before we get to the strategy of the schedule its worth noting that at the posting of this article we have been royally teased. The team twitter account posted the 50th Anniversary patch in the current navy with navy OG logo after a row of that same logo in royal blue, red and black with the goat-head, and navy with buffaslug. There’s no real explanation for those except “Journey through the decades.” Sabres twitter immediately responded with the wounded optimism our team may actually do something cool. It’s hard to say exactly what that means. My heart tells me decade-themed nights where they wear the jerseys from those decades, but my head tells me tribute videos and special guests with some pricey auctions. We’ll see what it actually means. Here’s to hoping I guess.

So does the schedule help or hurt the Sabres prime goal of Lord Stanley’s Cup? Yeah, I know the best teams win no matter how tough their schedule is but let’s all be honest here: these guys need as much help as they can get to break the playoff drought. I’d say this season’s schedule is the most favorable to help the club as it’s been in years. It starts with October in which your toughest opponent is… the Sharks? The Habs? Ok, so there is a challenging opponent by last season’s standards sprinkled in, but the thirteen games of the season’s first month look to be a great early barometer for where the team is at. It’s not crazy to imagine our boys in blue and gold getting nine, ten, maybe even eleven wins in October. That would be the best start to the season in many years. There’s a lot of time off in November because of the Global Series so even if it’s not a flaming start they have time to figure their new coach out early. We’ll see a lot of our division’s elite that month: Tampa, Boston and Toronto. Getting wins against them will go a long way to building confidence if Ralph Krueger is the motivator we’ve been led to believe he is. December will be decisive per usual with the Western Canadian road trip preceding the trip to the Stanley Cup Champion St. Louis Blues. With some luck the two matchups against Boston after Christmas will provide an opportunity to solidify genuine hope before the halfway mark at Game 41 the last day of the calendar year. Most of the Sabres’ toughest matchups and series of matchups come after the bye-week next season. That bye-week will be the third week in January. If the Sabres are still in close contention for a playoff spot by the time they take on the Leafs at home Sunday, February 16th then hopefully we won’t be singing the same sad tune come April. That’s my optimistic strategic view of it, the wheels are still apt to come off pending a lot of stuff happening between now and then. I want to insist I’m being optimistic not unrealistic. I’m trying to see opportunities and the challenges. It’s easy to be pessimistic, especially with so little of the promised “roster surgery” occurring right now but this blog is a fan blog, not another raincloud engine like much of Sabres Fandom right now. Come here for your optimistic takes, you know the drill.

So there it is: our look at another Sabres campaign, the 50th one in fact. Recent history tells us otherwise, but the time is right for this club to finally take off. The post on Free Agency will come out late next week or the week after; maybe by then we have some more of the birds we need to actually take off. Before we see any W’s or L’s on this schedule we’ll need to go through what will hopefully be another busy offseason. If not, we will have a very interesting Offseason Retrospective at the end of August… one way or another. Hey, if this season sucks yet again we at least have the powerful drug of nostalgia and special promotions to distract us! Dear God, I hope its not another shite season but no matter what, come here for your fan reaction content on the Sabres. Like, comment and share this blog with your friends and family. Think of it this way: New Look Sabres is what you feel being a Sabres fan, not necessarily the smartest thing you think. For those of you who are new to this, I do try to sprinkle in some intelligent takes, but this blog is really about the beating of Sabres fan’s hearts. I hope we can beat together this season! Let’s go Buffalo!

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Development Camp is going on now at Harbor Center and I could emphasize all the draft picks new and old who are there but instead I’m going to show my Niagara University Purple Eagles pride and point out Niagara winger Eric Cooley! This will also be the extent of my coverage of Development Camp unless something monumental happens.

#buffalo sabres #hockey #blog #nhl #schedule

[bountyofbeads]

Urged to Launch an Attack, Trump Listened to the Skeptics https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/21/us/politics/trump-iran-strike.html

Thank God Trump didn't listen to the hawks like John Bolton.

Urged to Launch an Attack, Trump Listened to the Skeptics Who Said It Would Be a Costly Mistake

By Peter Baker, Maggie Haberman and Thomas Gibbons-Neff | Published June 21, 2019 | New York Times | Posted June 22, 2019 |

WASHINGTON — He heard from his generals and his diplomats. Lawmakers weighed in and so did his advisers. But among the voices that rang powerfully for President Trump was that of one of his favorite Fox News hosts: Tucker Carlson.

While national security advisers were urging a military strike against Iran, Mr. Carlson in recent days had told Mr. Trump that responding to Tehran’s provocations with force was crazy. The hawks did not have the president’s best interests at heart, he said. And if Mr. Trump got into a war with Iran, he could kiss his chances of re-election goodbye.

However much weight that advice may or may not have had, the sentiments certainly reinforced the doubts that Mr. Trump himself harbored as he navigated his way through one of the most consequential foreign policy decisions of his presidency. By his own account, the president called off the “cocked & loaded” strike on Thursday night with only 10 minutes to spare to avoid the estimated deaths of as many as 150 people.

The concerns that Mr. Trump heard from Mr. Carlson reflected that part of the presidential id that has always  hesitated at pulling the trigger. Belligerent and confrontational as he is in his public persona, Mr. Trump has at times pulled back from the use of force, convinced that America has wasted too many lives and too much money in pointless Middle East wars and wary of repeating what he considers the mistakes of his predecessors.

As Mr. Carlson and other skeptics have argued, a strike against Iran could easily spiral into a full-fledged war without easy victory. That, Mr. Trump was told, was everything he ran against. And so the president struggled into the early evening, committed to taking action to demonstrate resolve right up until the moment he decided against it and called off the warplanes and missile launchers.

“To those who want to criticize the president, I would say they ought to be thankful they’re not the ones having to make that decision,” said Senator Jim Risch, Republican of Idaho and the chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, who was among the lawmakers at the White House that day. “I watched him really agonize over this.”

At 3 p.m., Mr. Trump hosted congressional leaders in the Situation Room to brief them about the episode and outline the alternative responses. At least some of those in the room left assuming that he was likely to order a strike.

Mr. Trump was given a list of at least a dozen strike options generated this month after there were attacks on tankers in the region. The list was then narrowed down to at least two alternatives. Among the targets would be facilities like radar and missile batteries.

Administration officials said on Friday that the president’s national security team was unanimous in favoring a response and all agreed with the final option recommended to Mr. Trump. But several military officials said General Dunford cautioned about the possible repercussions of a strike, warning that it could endanger American forces and allies in the region. A 6 p.m. meeting in Mr. Shanahan’s office at the Pentagon including General Dunford was described as particularly tense.

As for Mr. Pompeo, he argued during meetings at the White House that sanctions were having a powerful effect by slashing Iran’s revenues from oil sales, according to a senior administration official familiar with the discussion. While he expressed support for a pinpoint military response, he stressed that the sanctions were having the long-term effect the administration had hoped. Some of Mr. Trump’s aides wondered whether a strike would upset a strategy that was already working.

As of 7 p.m., senior American officials were told the strike was on and would be carried out between 9 and 10, or just before dawn in Iran. Within an hour, it was called off.

On Twitter and in an interview with NBC News, Mr. Trump attributed his change of heart to a desire to avoid casualties.

“I want to know something before you go,” he said he asked his generals. “How many people would be killed, in this case Iranians?”

The generals, he said, replied that about 150 people would die.

“I thought about it for a second, and I said, you know what, they shot down an unmanned drone, plane, whatever you want to call it, and here we are sitting with a 150 dead people that would have taken place probably within a half an hour after I said go ahead,” Mr. Trump told NBC’s Chuck Todd. “And I didn’t like it, I didn’t think, I didn’t think it was proportionate.”

But an administration official informed about the discussions privately disputed that account. The 150-dead casualty estimate came not from a general but from a lawyer, according to the official. The estimate was developed by Pentagon lawyers drafting worst-case scenarios that, the official said, did not account for whether the strike was carried out during daytime, when more people might be present at the targets, or in the dark hours before sunrise, as the military planned.

That estimate was passed to the White House counsel, Pat A. Cipollone, without being cleared with Mr. Shanahan or General Dunford. It was then conveyed to the president by the White House lawyers, at which point Mr. Trump changed his mind and called off the strike.

Pentagon lawyers are typically involved in casualty and collateral damage estimates, charged with considering the worst possible outcome. Such numbers are fluid and almost always a rough guess, as it is almost impossible to know who or what will be at the site of an attack when it occurs.

But the lawyers’ involvement was seen by some of Mr. Trump’s aides as an attempt to circumvent Mr. Bolton and Pentagon leaders to influence the president. In effect, whether intended to or not, the casualty estimate played to the concerns that Mr. Trump had shared with Mr. Carlson and other skeptics of military action in the Middle East.

Gen. Jack Keane, a retired Army vice chairman who is close to the Trump White House, said another factor came into play during the deliberations — the president was told that the attack on the drone was really a mistake, as Mr. Trump had publicly suggested to reporters early in the day.

“The president got some additional information that the Iranian national leaders were frustrated or furious with the tactical commander who made the decision to shoot down the American drone,” General Keane said in an interview. Among those who were said to be angry, he said, was Qassim Suleimani, the powerful commander of Iran’s elite Quds Force.

General Keane said it was unclear whether the commander who ordered the downing of the drone was operating within his authority or was a rogue figure. But either way, he said, it impressed upon Mr. Trump that he would be risking a dangerous escalation over what was not intended to be an attack by Iran’s top leaders.

“I don’t think that’s what was decisive for the president,” General Keane said, but it contributed to the decision, which he said was mainly driven by the casualty concern. “What was decisive for him was the comparison for him, compared to destroying missile batteries and killing people, of shooting down a drone.”

By this point, time was running out. Mr. Graham, who had pushed for a strike, was on an airplane heading to the West Coast and out of touch. Mr. Trump scrubbed the mission.

The decision made, the military ordered ships and planes in the region to stand down. At the White House, Mr. Trump turned on his television to watch the opening of Mr. Carlson’s 8 p.m. show, where he heard what surely must have sounded like vindication. Onscreen, Mr. Carlson declared that “foreign wars have ended in dismal failure for the United States.”

While no decision had been announced yet, Mr. Carlson praised Mr. Trump for resisting military intervention in Iran. “The same people who lured us into the Iraq quagmire 16 years ago are demanding a new war, this one with Iran,” he said. “The president, to his great credit, appears to be skeptical of this — very skeptical.”

If he kept the television on, though, Mr. Trump would have heard a radically different message from another friend on Fox at 9 p.m. With the news of Mr. Trump’s decision still not public, Sean Hannity declared that Mr. Trump may have “no choice” but to “bomb the hell out of them.”

For one night, at least, that would not be true. But the battle for Mr. Trump’s ear is not over.

#donald trump #u.s. news #politics #trump administration #president donald trump #trump #republican politics #white house #politics and government #international news #republican party #national security #must reads #us: news #maga #2020 candidates #2020 election #u.s. presidential elections #iran news #iran #iran deal #Pentagon #u.s. military

[thrashermaxey]

Ramblings: Updates on Price, Eichel, Pacioretty; Nilsson Traded; Looking Ahead to 2019 – January 3

  Alex Ovechkin is turning down the opportunity to play in this year’s All Star Game, opting instead to just take the week to rest. With the rules the league put in place years ago, that means Ovechkin will have to miss a game either directly before or directly after the ASG itself. Given the playoff run last year, his age, and the team’s expectations for another deep run this year, I can’t really blame him. He’s given us some of the best All Star Game moments over the last decade, he’s earned a weekend off.

*

Minor trade:

  #Canucks have acquired Mike McKenna (@MikeMcKenna56), Tom Pyatt & 2019 6th round draft pick from the Senators, in exchange for Anders Nilsson & Darren Archibald. https://t.co/12mOFoG2x9

— Vancouver Canucks (@Canucks) January 2, 2019

  I say it’s a minor trade but this should lead to a call-up of Thatcher Demko at some point, so it could be a major deal in that sense. Something to monitor.

*

There was no Jack Eichel at Sabres practice and afterwards the coach says he’s still being evaluated medically. There won’t be an update until their next gameday, so owners should prepare for Eichel to miss at least the next game Thursday night against Florida.

*

Max Pacioretty was skating on the third line at practice for Vegas, giving a pretty good indication that Brandon Pirri, still on the second line, will be staying. I mean, the guy’s a goal-per-game in his Vegas career. If that doesn’t give him an extended look in the NHL, I’m not sure what will.

*

No change in Corey Crawford’s status according to ‘Hawks coach Jeremy Colliton. I suppose no chance is better than worsening, but in the leagues where I have Crawford on my roster, I’m operating as if he won’t return this year. This is a scary situation. Let’s just hope he comes out of this ok as a person, let alone return to the ice.

*

Speaking of goaltender injuries, Carey Price was taken off the injured reserve by the Habs, meaning he should be good to go for their next game. Get him off your fantasy IR lists.

*

The NHL All-Star Game rosters were announced. Keep in mind there will still be a fan vote to come and every team needs at least one representative. Here they are:

pic.twitter.com/7zlumFndz7

— Elliotte Friedman (@FriedgeHNIC) January 2, 2019

pic.twitter.com/enfbVyDo0U

— Elliotte Friedman (@FriedgeHNIC) January 2, 2019

pic.twitter.com/edI8ejTnEQ

— Elliotte Friedman (@FriedgeHNIC) January 2, 2019

pic.twitter.com/9GFkVrGILb

— Elliotte Friedman (@FriedgeHNIC) January 2, 2019

  Thoughts/Complaints? 

*

We had a huge upset at the World Juniors yesterday as Switzerland defeated Sweden 2-0 in their quarter-final matchup. A team that has had relegation concerns in recent history defeated a gold medal contender. And the thing is, it wasn’t one of the typical upsets where it’s a couple fluke shots and a goalie standing on his head that were the difference. It was basically an even game. That’s a huge credit to the Swiss.

*

It was quite the game between Finland and Canada as the Canadians held a 1-0 most of the game but the Finns tied it up with under a minute left. It had been the Mikey DiPietro show to that point as he had made several key saves for Canada but Eeli Tolvanen had the look of a guy destined to score. He took the shot that redirected in off of Aleksi Heopniemi to tie.

Finland won it a little halfway through the overtime period following a wild overtime. Canada had a penalty shot, and Noah Dobson had an open net goal on his stick, before his stick broke. Finland went the other way and got another deflected goal. Just a crazy, crazy overtime period.

*

The next game following a four-point outing, Johnny Gaudreau managed another four-point night in Detroit on Wednesday night. He had a goal and three assists, Elias Lindholm had a goal and two assists, while Sean Monahan had just one of each the lazy bum. That makes 21 points over the last two games for the top line, and Lindholm has set a career-high with 47 points. There’s half a season left.

*

Kris Letang had a goal and an assist to go with four blocked shots in Pittsburgh’s 7-2 stomping of the Rangers. That gives him points in five straight and 35 in 38 games this year. This pace would give him a career-high, topping the 67 points he had a few years ago. Guentzel, Crosby, Malkin, and Simon all had a goal and an assist as well.

*

In the hours following his All-Star Game selection, Elias Pettersson tallied a hat trick for Vancouver in their 4-3 overtime win against Ottawa. That pushes him past 20 goals, giving him 22 and 20 assists this year. He’s shooting about 27 percent, but even half that and he’d have 30 points in 37 games as a rookie on a bad team. Truly a special first-year player we’re watching right now.

*

Well New Year’s is behind us, as is the holiday season, it’s time to look ahead to 2019. It could be a very tumultuous year for the NHL as though the collective bargaining agreement doesn’t expire for a few years, both the players and owners can opt out of the current CBA in September. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we could be about eight months away from our next NHL lockout. Good times.

But let’s not focus on the negative right now. Let’s focus on the positives. I want to go through a list of players I’m excited for in 2019, whether it be the second half of the 2018-19 campaign or the first half of the 2019-2020 season.

  Mark Stone

This year’s free agent crop is one absolutely loaded with talent. Aside from Stone, names like Erik Karlsson, Sergei Bobrovsky, Artemi Panarin, Matt Duchene, Joe Pavelski, and Jeff Skinner top the list, and that’s discounting guys like Alex Edler and Jordan Eberle. But Stone is one of the few players I suspect will be on the move at or before the trade deadline, and that means there’s a lot of interest in the future of Mark Stone both for the balance of this season and next year.

Let’s set aside the balance of this year for a second. One reason Stone’s UFA contract should be fascinating is that he’s truly one of the best wingers on the planet: According to Corsica’s wins above replacement model, Stone is top-25 in the league in a per-82 games basis since the start of the 2016 season. The only wingers ranked ahead of him are Nikita Kucherov, Alex Ovechkin, Patrik Laine, David Pastrnak, Taylor Hall, Vladimir Tarasenko, Jeff Skinner, TJ Oshie, Kyle Palmieri, Brad Marchand, and Rickard Rakell. That puts him somewhere near the top-10 wingers, and he will be a free agent. But do other general managers view him as such? Are there enough GMs who view him as such that there will be a bidding war? He has 105 points in his last 98 games so his offence has started to show through over the last couple seasons, too.

Stone may not be a coveted fantasy asset like Marchand or Tarasenko but he’s similar in real-world talent. He should see north of $8-million a year. How much further will depend on how general managers value him which is, in a nerdy-ish kind of way, exciting.

  Erik Brannstrom

I thought there would be a chance that Brannstrom would crack the Vegas roster coming out of camp, especially with the early-season suspension to defenceman Nate Schmidt. But he didn’t, and they sent him to the AHL to start the 2018-19 year. As a 19-year old defenceman in the AHL, Brannstrom has put up 20 points in 24 games. It surely seems that this will be his first and last year in the AHL.

Brannstrom has the look of a player ready to be a great puck-mover in the NHL and he’s proving this in the AHL. I suppose one issue would be is that if he starts the year in the NHL next season, he’ll still be behind guys like Schmidt, Shea Theodore, and Colin Miller. All the same, there should be a lot of reason for excitement and he’ll be a guy firmly on my radar for rookie and keeper drafts when September roll around.

  Vladimir Tarasenko

Even with 33 goals and 66 points in 2017-18, it was seen as a down year for Tarasenko. He had been battling through injuries and the St. Louis power play didn’t do him any favours, but some (present company included) were excited for a turnaround for the 2018-19 season. Things haven’t gone as planned as he has just 11 goals and 22 points in 37 games. It’s been a brutal first half for him.

It’s also been a brutal first half for the Blues as they find themselves tied for last in the NHL (as of Wednesday afternoon) with the Ottawa Senators. The team making its way to the playoffs seems like a far-fetched idea. What if Tarasenko doesn’t turn his season around in the second half? We’re talking about a guy who had established himself as one of the top wingers in the league (see: write-up on Stone) over a three-year span and then will have had back-to-back poor seasons on a team that missed the playoffs. What does management do?

It seems unfathomable to trade an elite talent like Tarasenko coming off a bad year (or two) while secured to a very team-friendly contract. Then again, we thought the same thing about Taylor Hall. I’m excited to see what Tank does in the second-half of the 2018-19 season, but more importantly, what his future holds in 2019-2020 and beyond.

  Morgan Frost

I’ll be honest, I hadn’t watched much of Morgan Frost before this year’s World Juniors. I don’t watch much junior hockey and without some NHL games, he just wasn’t on my radar. This year’s World Juniors has changed that.

Frost tore up the OHL last year and is doing so again this year. Though he’s not big by any means (he’s listed as 6’0”, 185 pounds but that seems generous on both counts) he doesn’t seem to have any problem going to the dirty areas to use his hands and quickness to make plays in traffic, which can draw coverage and leave teammates open. That kind of ability is coveted because not only can he create plays, but he can create plays will creating space for line mates. That’s how you score goals in the new era of the NHL. Whether he can do that in the NHL rather than the OHL remains to be seen, but that he can do it now bodes well for the future.

With the way the NHL plays these days, worrying about size is a fool’s errand. It’s all about speed, skill, and quick decisions. Frost has all those. If the Flyers decide to use him on the wing, he could find himself in the top-6 right out of the gate next season. He’s another player I will be targeting heavily in rookie and keeper drafts.

from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-updates-on-price-eichel-pacioretty-nilsson-traded-looking-ahead-to-2019-january-3/

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Lamplighter Is Bigger Than Ever While Keeping That Neighborhood Brewery Spirit

Founders Cayla Marvil and AC Jones reflect on their year-and-a-half-old brewery

Fresh off the addition of a second taproom and with a summertime beer garden kicking into gear, Lamplighter Brewing Company founders Cayla Marvil and AC Jones have barely had time to digest the breadth of their business’s growth within the last year and a half.

“It’s just been kind of go, go, go,” said Marvil. “I don’t think we’ve even stopped to breathe. We’re so excited to have this space open and kind of chill out for a moment, really hone in on our efficiency on the brew side, make the taproom space better and better.”

They’re off to a good start, with Lamplighter winning the 2017 Eater Boston award for taproom of the year.

The brew floor, both taprooms, and a partner coffee shop, Longfellows, span 10,00 square feet in a quiet section of Cambridge, and if you didn’t know that building housed a brewery, you might pass by without noticing, but for the line of people waiting to get inside and the occasional flash of Jones and Marvil’s samoyed Barley, a massive ball of fluff and the honorary CEO of Lamplighter.

The Lamplighter team unveiled its second taproom in February, taking an area in the rear of the building allocated for storage and transforming it into an additional gathering space for the hordes of guests who visit the brewery each week. Now, there’s twice the capacity for people to drink beer and coffee, play games, and stalk Barley while devouring pierogies, grilled cheese, and poutine from the various pop-ups that rotate through the brewery.

Cayla Marvil/Lamplighter

Lamplighter’s new rear taproom, featuring a mural by Chloe Rubenstein

Marvil and Jones never planned to have two taprooms, but one of the surprises of getting the brewery up and running was the reception from patrons.

“The neighborhood’s been incredible,” Marvil said. “Cambridge has been supportive, the people here are amazing.”

It took years of preparation and then construction for the pair to open Lamplighter. They first announced plans for the brewery in 2014 and opened the doors to the taproom in November 2016.

It used to be very stressful, and now it’s still stressful but less ‘dire, everything’s gonna end.’

“We put together this business plan,” Marvil said. “We knew in our heads, ‘This is a good idea, let’s go for it,’ but why in the world did the bank back us, and investors? We were really young; we didn’t have any experience with it. We are so grateful people did it, but yeah, I don’t know, we’re very fortunate.”

“We put everything into this,” Jones said. “If it didn’t work out well, we would have been in trouble. [Now we’re] able to kind of breathe a little easier. People don’t hate us, we’re selling beer, people seem to have fun, it runs — that sort of thing is a huge weight that we used to carry all the time; that’s certainly lessened. It used to be very stressful, and now it’s still stressful but less ‘dire, everything’s gonna end.’”

Two huge parts of clearing that stress hurdle involved the experts Jones and Marvil consulted along the way and the staff members who joined them in opening the brewery and keeping it running smoothly. Jones and Marvil both attended Middlebury College in Vermont and have surrounded themselves with several other alums, including marketing and events director Marina Sideli and taproom and retail operations director Jack Hunsicker.

They also sought the advice of another Middlebury alum, Rob Tod, who runs Allagash Brewing Company in Portland, Maine.

“Allagash is the best brewery,” Jones said. They reached out to Tod when they “were just punk kids trying to figure out what to do” and asked to check out his operation.

“This guy has one of the largest breweries in the country and one of the most renowned — and he spent two hours just taking us around, showing us everything, pouring beer. It was incredible,” Jones said. “If we could eventually be anything like Rob Tod and Allagash, that’s a huge win. And I think we are never gonna do that.”

Certainly not size-wise: Lamplighter wants to stay small, now that it has hit capacity within its space.

Being where we are and being in the community and being in the neighborhood, it’s totally worth it.

“We’ve just been in this grow, grow, grow [phase] — add tanks, make more beer, add the taproom, do more,” Marvil said. “And so finally we’re having a moment where everything’s in the building — we literally can fit no more — so now we’re playing the Jenga game, how do we best fit everything in.”

The majority of Lamplighter’s sales still happen at the brewery, despite its brewing capacity doubling since opening. Jones and Marvil had anticipated doing a lot more keg sales to restaurants, but it turned out more people come to the brewery for their beer than anywhere else.

“It’s really fun to be in cool restaurants and be on draft,” Jones said. “It’s also logistically difficult, and having people here is the best method for us across the board, so the fact that that is skewed more dramatically in that direction than we ever would have guessed is great. It’s really made a big difference for us.”

That means they can still keep the operation small, even while expanding their brewing capacity and turning out new beers. Marvil and Jones have had to change up their logistics a bit, but they’re falling into a rhythm with everything from canning to waste removal to distribution to other retail locations.

“That’s been a work in progress,” Marvil said. “How do we adjust to being in a city, how do we deal with things that we had never thought about, like trash removal, where clearly we’re generating a ton of spent grain and waste and we don’t want to disturb our neighbors but we have to get it out. Most breweries are in an industrial park where it doesn’t matter how or when you do that. For us, we can’t block traffic at 9 a.m.”

“But being where we are and being in the community and being in the neighborhood, it’s totally worth it, it’s just not as straightforward as it would be otherwise,” Jones added.

They get a significant amount of help from their staff, which now totals more than 30 people.

“Everyone’s amazing; it’s such a cool community. In Cambridge, everyone’s so overqualified, but it’s great,” Marvil said.

Dana Hatic/Eater

Lamplighter founders AC Jones and Cayla Marvil with their dog, Barley

In terms of beer, Lamplighter continues to push the envelope, thanks in large part to head brewer Tyler Fitzpatrick, whom Marvil and Jones credit heavily with the success of the ever-rotating beer lineup.

“He’s so, so talented. It’s so impressive. It’s the sort of thing where you could start to take something like that for granted,” Marvil said.

Fitzpatrick has been known to spend days on end researching new styles of beer he’s never brewed before and coming up with new recipes. Case in point: this month’s Maibock, the Union, which, incidentally, was brewed for Fitzpatrick’s wedding.

“We say we don’t have a flagship,” Jones said. “We have beers that repeat more often than others, but we don’t have any beers that you can have here all the time, or really even that often, hypothetically speaking.”

That said, they always try to have something for everybody.

“Always a lot of IPAs because that’s what everybody wants to drink, it seems, but then something for somebody who says they only drink Stella, somebody who likes sours, somebody who likes funk — we try to do a whole range,” Marvil said.

Now, with double the tank space from when they started, the taproom options have increased, helping the Lamplighter team prioritize a balanced menu while keeping things fresh and interesting.

A post shared by Lamplighter Brewing Co. (@lamplighterbrew) on Apr 12, 2018 at 7:41am PDT

“Right now we have eight different beers going at a time, which, when you have a taproom that tends to have 12 to 14 beers on tap and where people love that variety, we need to keep up with that in that way,” Jones said.

They’ve also added 100 oak barrels within the past year, and they’ll release some funky barrel-aged beers over the rest of spring and throughout the summer.

Lamplighter partners with Iron Heart for its canning, and for its can art, the brewery pulls from within its ranks. A recent collaboration with Solemn Oath Brewery out of Illinois produced a dry-hopped saison called Barb (hello, Stranger Things fans), and Lamplighter commissioned can art from staffer Chloe Feldman Emison, while a member of the Solemn Oath team drew the monster in the background.

For the other labels, Lamplighter works with Bluerock Design out of Martha’s Vineyard. There’s a template with the brand logo and the name of the beer, so it’s easy enough to switch in the art for each new beer.

“It keeps it cohesive while allowing us to do some creative stuff with it,” Jones said.

Counted among Lamplighter’s creative brews is Barley Smalls, a Vienna lager named for Barley.

“We have people who call and ask if Barley’s there, and if we say no, they’re like, ‘then I’m not coming,’” Jones said.

A post shared by Lamplighter Brewing Co. (@lamplighterbrew) on Jan 5, 2018 at 9:09am PST

Even on the days Barley’s not in the brewery, there’s plenty to attract visitors, and on weekends in particular, there are often lines to get inside. Marvil and Jones decided early on to scrap plans to run a kitchen along with the beer operation, but in the evenings, they utilize space from the brewery’s partner coffee shop, Longfellows, to host various pop-ups, including Jaju Pierogi, Brato Brewhouse, Manoa Poke Shop, and so many more.

“It’s so nice because it brings in different people who maybe have heard of pierogies but they’ve never been here, so they end up coming, and it’s just so awesome — we get to support all these cool local food businesses and meet amazing people,” Marvil said. “It’s just really fun to have something different every night. For us to not have to do food is huge. That’s my background, and I thought we wanted to do food, and I’m so glad we do not run a kitchen.”

They have enough going on as it is.

“At this point, we’re running a brewery, which is its own business; a taproom or bar, which is kind of its own business; and then we do all of our distribution, which is honestly kind of its own business,” Jones said.

Customers can also bring in their own food or order delivery to the brewery, which gives Marvil and Jones the opportunity to run two taprooms while continuing to make the best beers possible as well as branching out into barrel-aging and collaborations with other breweries.

In addition to the aforementioned Barb collaboration, a dry-hopped saison, Lamplighter also recently released another collaboration, Sneaker Wave — a New England-style IPA brewed with Borg Brugghús out of Iceland.

Introducing Sneaker Wave, a fierce New England-style IPA brewed with Arctic thyme! We teamed up with @borgbrugghus of Reykjavík, Iceland, to throw a Nordic twist on this hazy staple (perhaps we should really be calling this an International-style IPA!). Waves of herbs and sweet thyme follow flavors of tropical fruit, mango, and citrus zest. The addition of Styrian Wolf and Grungiest hops keep that swell going with pockets of elderflower, anise, and even more mango. 6.8% ABV. We’re also wrapping up a fresh batch of Cuppa, our British Pale ale infused with Ethiopian cold-brew coffee from Longfellows! Cans and draft of both beers available Wednesday at 5 p.m.

A post shared by Lamplighter Brewing Co. (@lamplighterbrew) on Mar 26, 2018 at 11:19am PDT

Beer collaborations are a new addition to the business, something Marvil and Jones were unable to do in their first year.

“If the two of us left this place, it’d go up in flames,” Jones said. “And we’re finally reaching the point where that’s actually not the case. Our staff is just wonderful and everyone’s kind of got the stuff down that they need to do, so it gives us a little bit more creative freedom to do that kind of thing and to explore and think about beer in new ways, instead of just worrying about the logistics of making sure this place runs all the time, which is really exciting for us.”

Now fully at capacity, Marvil and Jones can relax a bit, but they’re hardly resting on their heels: They’ll be running a beer garden at the Central Flea throughout the summer while continuing to open up the doors to both of their taprooms to the community.

“We don’t want to be a massive brewery,” Marvil said. “We really like taprooms; we like being in the community and the neighborhood.”

• Lamplighter Brewing Company Coverage on Eater [EBOS]

This is the final piece in a series of features highlighting the 2017 Eater Awards winners. Read the other four here: