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Did you read that article from NY Mag??? The photographer says three things that are super interesting for me:
On a good day, her photos go for a little over 100 bucks. Thats nothing and it makes far more sense why we don't see her more casually papped in LA. She only commands that amount of money when theres something else big happened. (IE pap picks after the coronation)
Backgrid reps two photographers that were trailing them in two seperate cars. And there were only three cars following them. So that statement they released was 1000% a warning shot to not sue for video. It makes me wonder if their relationship is strained as a result and we won't see they working together frequently in the future.
He was shocked to see Harry!! This is THE biggest thing about this article. It confirms my theory: that harry wasn't scheduled to attend and it was originally suppose to be an outing with her mother. This was step two in her post- coronation re brand. The first being the "down to earth" hike with old friends "Pre-Harry". The award was about the start of single mom PR. Both outings she didn't wear her engagement ring. And the tominey article that dropped today on their 5th year anniversary? Oh this was one giant roll out- very intentional. She wanted the ring speculation with photos of herself at her award ceremony. She would ride and build the single mom narrative over the next fews months. But that was her slow roll out of separation, and harry threw that away. You don't get the ring speculation when your husband attendees the awards dinner with you, the tominey article holds alot less weight when shes pictured smiling looking up at him less than 48 hours before it drops. and above all else her credibility takes a huge hit from the backlash of a statement both of them co-signed and approved going out about a paparazzi chase that never happened. And the leak from security sources that asked for a discount at a hotel they used to frequent? That alone implies money is tight, but also brings her down to a level she doesn't want to be at.
It's insane how much this roll out has been botched.
She also wasn’t supposed to go through Hertz.
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theultimatefan · 2 years
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Higashioka, Showalter, Nimmo, Sörenstam to be honored at 43rd Annual Thurman Munson Awards Dinner Feb. 7
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The 43rd annual Thurman Munson Awards Dinner will benefit AHRC New York City Foundation on Tuesday night, February 7th at Pier Sixty at Chelsea Piers (23rd Street at West Side Highway) in New York City, and the honorees have been announced today: New York Yankees catcher and ’21 Roberto Clemente Award nominee Kyle Higashioka; New York Mets centerfielder Brandon Nimmo; New York Mets manager and four-time Manager of the Year Buck Showalter; and LPGA champion & World Golf Hall of Famer Annika Sörenstam will all receive Thurman Munson Awards in the “Class of 2023.”
The “Thurmans” are presented to individuals for on-field excellence, community outreach, and betterment of their sport. The AHRC NYC benefit has helped to keep the memory of the legendary Yankees catcher and captain Thurman Munson alive since his untimely passing 43 years ago, while raising more than $19 million for children and adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities to lead richer, more productive lives.
Thurman's widow Diana Munson is an honorary chair who has supported AHRC NYC and its fund-raising efforts through the Thurman Munson Awards for four decades, and will be in attendance.
For media inquiries contact John Cirillo/Cirillo World by email at [email protected] or text 914-260-7436.
For tickets call 212-249-6188 or email [email protected]. Tickets may be purchased online at www.ahrcnycfoundation.org/munson2023
The co-Masters of Ceremonies will be FOX 5 lead sports anchor and Sports Extra host Tina Cervasio and Michael Kay, the Voice of the Yankees on YES Network and host of the Michael Kay Show on ESPN NY Radio.
Special guests for the evening will include previous Thurman Award honorees: Radio Hall of Famer and WFAN Yankees analyst Suzyn Waldman (previous Media Hero recipient), Football Giants Super Bowl champions Harry Carson, Chris Canty and Karl Nelson; as well as Thurman's teammate and two-time Yankees World Series Champion Roy White, Giants Super Bowl champ Howard Cross, YES Network personality Nancy Newman, former women’s featherweight boxing champion Heather Hardy, popular New York Radio/TV personality Sweeny Murti, WFAN Radio golf and tennis reporter Ann Liguori, and former Mets pitcher Nelson Figueroa with others to be announced.
The list of previous Thurman Munson Award recipients reads like a “Who’s Who” of sports stars for the ages including: Muhammad Ali, Arthur Ashe, Yogi Berra, Mariano Rivera, Jorge Posada, Joe Torre, Bernie Williams, Tom Seaver, Mike Piazza, Gary Carter, David Wright, Willis Reed, Patrick Ewing, Julius Erving, Jim Brown, Harry Carson, Aly Raisman, Nancy Lieberman, Theresa Weatherspoon, and Mark Messier, just to name a few.
Kyle Higashioka was a seventh-round selection by the Yankees in the 2008 MLB Draft. After battling a series of injuries early in his minor league career, Kyle made his major league debut for the Yankees in 2018 when Gary Sánchez was sidelined. After starting his major league career 0-for-22, the longest hitless streak to start a Yankee career of any position player ever, he had his first major league hit, a home run, on July 1 against the Boston Red Sox. His next two hits, on July 3 and July 4 against the Atlanta Braves, were also circuit blasts, making him the ninth MLB player since 1920 to have three home runs as his first three hits. On September 16, 2020, Higashioka hit three home runs in a game against the Toronto Blue Jays to became the 24th Yankee to hit three HR in a game. On May 19, 2021, Higashioka caught Corey Kluber's no-hitter against the Texas Rangers, the first Yankees to catch a no-hitter since Joe Girardi caught David Cone's perfect game in 1999.
Higashioka was the Yankees 2021 nominee for the Roberto Clemente Award which embodies representing the game of baseball through extraordinary character and community involvement, both on and off the field. In 2006, MLB opened its first Urban Youth Academy in Compton, CA. Among the athletes who attended the inaugural camp was Higashioka. He grew up roughly 25 miles away in Huntington Beach, looking for any and every opportunity to achieve his goal of playing professional baseball. He never forgot the impact the MLB Youth Academy had on him and the trajectory of his career. He spent numerous offseasons volunteering his time to support the social reach of the program. The academy focuses on Inner City youth, and assists after-school programs, preparing kids for any type of life, whether it's professional baseball or getting in the workforce. Kyle has embraced the causes of the Special Operations Warrior Foundation, which ensures complete post-secondary educational support and additional educational opportunities for eligible surviving children of fallen Special Operations Personnel and children of all Medal of Honor Recipients; and provides immediate financial assistance to severely wounded, ill, and injured Special Operations Personnel.
Four-time Manager of the Year Buck Showalter, in his first season at the helm of the Mets last season, led the team to a 101-win campaign en route to the best skipper trophy. During a 30-year managerial career, Showalter has amassed 1,652 victories managing the Yankees, Diamondbacks, Rangers, Orioles, and Mets. Like Thurman, Showalter was drafted by the Bronx Bombers, and is a member of the Cape Cod Baseball League Hall of Fame. (Thurman led the Chatham A's to their first league title with a .420 batting average, while Showalter, playing for the Hyannis Mets, won the league batting title with a .434 average). Showalter was an All-American and set the Mississippi State record for batting average in a season by hitting .459 during the 1977 season.
Showalter participated in the Amazin’ Mets Foundation’s second annual Homeruns & Highballs fundraiser last July, the team’s largest fundraising event of the season. AMF is committed to providing needed services and opportunities to children, families and underserved groups in neighborhoods and communities to inspire change and make a lasting impact on and off the field. On the 21st anniversary of 9/11, Showalter and the team paid tribute to the first responders during the game against the Marlins. While managing Baltimore, Buck supported the LUNGevity Foundation, a charity inspired by the Orioles late public relations director Monica Pence Barlow.
The homegrown smiling, starting centerfielder Brandon Nimmo was a first round pick by New York in the 2011 MLB draft, and made his big league debut for the Mets in 2016. The seven-year veteran enjoyed his finest season last year, recording 159 hits, 30 doubles, and 64 RBI with 580 at bats in 151 games, all career highs. His 16 home runs fell one short of equaling his lifetime best of 17 circuit blasts. During the off season, the Cheyanne, Wyoming native signed a nine-year contract with the Mets. Nimmo played for Team Italy in the World Baseball Classic in 2017.
During the off season, Nimmo dressed as an elf at the Mets annual holiday party. Last season, Nimmo held a special sandlot baseball game for local Little Leaguers at Flushing’s Hinton Park on July 8 with two dozen Little Leaguers taking part. Following a pre-game pep talk, Nimmo spent much of the game pitching to the kids, playing the outfield, and giving players fist bumps when they made a good play. Nimmo has also taken part in the fundraiser Call of Duty: Warzone Charity Royale to support veterans with teammate Pete Alonso. Nimmo was named the Mets recipient of the 2022 Heart and Hustle Award, awarded to players who demonstrate a passion for the game of baseball and best embodies the values, spirit and traditions of the game, by the MLB Players Alumni Association.
Annika Sörenstam is the most celebrated and winningest female professional golfer in history as a three-time Women’s U.S. Open champion, three-time PGA champion and member of the World Golf Hall of Fame. In 2003, she achieved a career Grand Slam, winning at least once in her career each of the four tournaments recognized as major championships. She tops the LPGA’s all-time money list with earnings in excess of $22 million. In all, the native of Sweden has captured 72 official LPGA tournaments and has been named Player of the Year a record eight times.
Annika created the ANNIKA Foundation (www.annikafoundation.org) to provide opportunities in women’s golf at the junior, collegiate and professional levels while teaching young people the importance of living a healthy, active lifestyle through fitness and nutrition. It annually conducts six major golf events for aspiring junior girls throughout the world. And with the support of the Haskins Commission, the Foundation created the ANNIKA Award presented by Stifel, which is given annually to the best collegiate female golfer. Since 2014, the Foundation has also annually hosted the ANNIKA Intercollegiate presented by 3M, a college tournament featuring 12 top Division I schools. Each year, the Foundation also conducts several “Share My Passion” grass roots clinics designed to introduce kids to the game.
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zooterchet · 2 years
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Marilyn Manson Buys Three People (President Brown, Agent Brady, Lieutenant Charlebois)
Reggie Brown ("Morris"): Forgery artist, presidential impersonator; lifted Barack Obama's signature to buy INTERPOL for Britain. 
Tom Brady ("Bucks"): CIA athlete, assassinated Bristol County Sheriff's Department, Dr. Golden retired.
Dave Charlebois ("Ded"): Batman posture, wrote self as Joker, mastered by Heath Ledger, sans glitz and glam; OJ Simpson incarcerated, Jesuits removed from powers of Congress.
Mutual Covers: Mayor Adam West, Mo Lewis Hit on Drew Bledsoe ("Morris"). Dr. Golden Castration with Wepner medication to prep for Muhammad Ali, Blown NY Giants game ("Bucks"). Mackelmore Election, Castrated NY GIants ("Ded").
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pig-wings · 2 years
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@ everyone what should I make for the autumn equinox
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khaotic-kitsunes · 4 years
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Instincts
This is all because I entered a bunch of numbers for my scenario ideas into a randomiser list thingy-ma-bob. It chose werewolf!tamaki fucking the poor fem!reader and well...now you guys get to read it!
Same as always, be sure to let me know what you think, and enjoy~
🥃 AO3 🥃
Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋
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 You frowned as you stepped into your home, having only just arrived home after being forced to work overtime on the worst night of the month. Tamaki’s transformation had likely already happened, usually occurring during day’s early sunset; meaning that you had a fully transformed and likely feral werewolf somewhere in your house.
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 “Bun…ny…”
 .
 A scream escaped your mouth when you were slammed back against the front door, impossibly large hands wrapped around your wrists and holding you up in the air; hot, heavy breath hitting your face as Tamaki sniffed at your vulnerable form.
 Tamaki had never before hurt you in his transformed state, though he constantly worried about doing so; but he had warned you each full moon to be home before his transformation, always muttering something about instincts being uncontrollable during the night.
 “Tamaki…Tamaki you scared me” You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as you leaned your head back, allowing him better access to your neck and earning yourself a pleased growl from the unhappy creature in front of you; his large body pressing up against yours until you wrapped your legs around his waist awkwardly. Barely able to do such an action while he was transformed.
 Unlike his human form, Tamaki’s transformed state was some kind of mixture between wolf and human; if you had to describe it at all, it would be closest to the Lycans that were shown in mythology. More wolf than man, monstrously tall and terrifyingly muscled; his fangs were razor sharp and could kill you if he had the urge.
 However, despite the monstrous form, you had easily come to love the werewolf; adjusting to the strange habits and schedules that he went through with a lot of guidance from Tamaki’s human self.
 .
 “Where…? Where were you!”
 .
 His snarl made you gulp nervously, opening your eyes to look up into his demanding stare; you were positive that it would do no good to try and reason with your giant lover. Instead, it made more sense to try and soothe his anger with actions since he understood that. Using your words too much seemed to aggravate the instincts that made his full moon’s personality and pushing your luck was not something you wanted to do.
 “Working.” You gave a simple answer, squirming under his iron-grip slightly in an attempt to get yourself comfortable; however, such attempts seemed to be futile as he simply pushed more of his weight against you. Squishing you against the door like he had done previous times; only this time, his knot wasn’t buried deep inside of you. You still had your clothes on for the moment.
 .
 “I crave you.”
 .
 Those three simple words had your mind reeling, your mouth dropping open in surprise at his sudden statement. It always took you some time to adjust to the bold demands that his instincts gave without fail.
 You were so used to the shy, timid Tamaki that you had fallen in love with.
 .
 “I want…to breed you…overflowing with my seed”
 .
 You were given no time to react as he wrapped one of his large arms around your waist, pulling you under his arm while making his way through your home and to the bed that seemed to be stacked with the pillows Tamaki kept in one of the cupboards. Without fail, each full moon, his instincts would spur him to turn the bed into a place for you to be fucked non-stop. If you remembered correctly, then Tamaki had called it a nest. It was supposed to provide you comfort, his instincts way of courting you as he had tried to explain.
 “Tamaki, wait! I’m still wearing my dress!” You squealed when he threw you onto the mattress, your body hitting the pile of pillows he had prepared while he watched you with a hungry gaze; large hands twitching as he resisted the urge to immediately jump you.
 You knew what he wanted.
 .
 “Move…”
 .
 You inhaled shakily as you turned away from him, crawling a little closer to the pillows as you moved them to where you needed them most; getting yourself comfortable in the pile of pillows with your butt on display for him.
 It took him only a few seconds to tear your clothes away without care, his large body pressing up against you from behind to keep you warm; yet another instinct he maintained throughout the night of the full moon. Anything for your health, Tamaki had never explained why but it was easy enough to figure out.  He couldn’t breed you if you weren’t healthy.
 “Come on, big guy…can’t get me all excited and leave me hanging” You peeked back at him slowly, gasping when you felt the tip of his throbbing cock rub up against your dripping folds; poking and prodding while he rutted up against your body.
 .
 “Be patient. I will fuck you, until you’re too tired…to even speak my name!”
 .
 You cried out as he slammed his hips forwards, one hand moving to wrap around the base of your throat while the other held your body in place; making it that much easier for him to bury himself inside of you with a single thrust.
 His knot was already swollen. You could feel it against your folds, hot and throbbing; thick with a close release promised. Thankfully you knew better than to tease him about such things, instead opting to mewl out his name and enjoy the waves of pleasure that you knew would begin to settle in now that he was inside of you.
 “Tama…so big inside of me~” You cooed out in a soft voice, arching your back when his hips began to move at a harsh pace; the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room, the only sound you could hear apart from his heavy breathing above your head.
 You whimpered out when he squeezed down on your throat firmly, snarling at the way your body clenched around his cock; trying to milk him of the cum he hadn’t yet released. Your body was more honest than you could ever be with Tamaki’s instincts and you were perfectly okay with that. Not to mention, Tamaki himself seemed to appreciate it more than your words.
 .
 “Good girl…mine…”
 .
 His possessive growls of pleasure made your cheeks flush in embarrassment while you cried out his name, not bothering to hide the sounds that he managed to drag out of your body; life was too short to be bothered hiding sounds of bliss.
 You couldn’t help but grin as you moaned out his name, quietly whining for more and causing the creature above you to let out a savage-sounding snarl, his weight shifting to press you further into the bed until you were barely able to breath; your pleasure-filled whimpers keeping him alerted to your enjoyment of the treatment.
 “Tama…more~” You choked out a moan when his hips bucked harshly, rocking your entire body forwards before he shifted his position once again; his hot tongue dragging over the skin of your neck slowly, a sign that your precious werewolf was getting serious with you.
 .
 “Settle. Settle…”
 .
 His hands moved from your body, down to the bed as he tried to soothe your needy whimpers, bracing his weight while you reached out for his arms; all too aware of how he was about to fuck you.
 In his transformed state, Tamaki could easily break you beneath his body. However, he instead chose to make you his woman and spoil you with affection; he chose to court you as his life-partner and to fill you with every drop of cum he had to offer.
 His name left your lips in the form of a scream when he began to pound into you, his sharp claws tearing through the mattress from the amount of strength he used to keep you happy and begging for more.
 It wasn’t long before you were screaming his name in bliss, orgasm rocking through your body while he continued to bury himself inside of you; leaving a trail of bitemarks over your spine, yet another sign of affection from the large beast. His way of keeping others away.
 Each thrust of his hips had you pushing back against him, whimpering out his name and desperate to feel his knot inside of you; he was close to knotting you. You could tell by the way he was losing his ability to reign in his strength; it was an adorable tell-tale sign that you had picked up on early into your relationship with him.
 .
 “Take it…my knot, that’s what…you want…I can smell it”
 .
 You whimpered out loudly, babbling unintelligible things while he began to rut up against you with all his strength; each movement forcing your body down into the mattress until a loud, wet pop echoed around the room.
 Followed soon by your cry of shock, your back arching from the sudden fullness that overcame you. As always, Tamaki’s knot was too much for your smaller body and while it no longer hurt you as it had in the beginning, to have such a foreign sized object inside of you; it was still overwhelming.
 Tamaki growled out a low moan from above you, slowly rolling his hips while rubbing his muzzle against the soft skin of your neck, his own form of affection while the two of you waited for the first knot of the night to go down. Many more to go.
 “You gotta…Tamaki, you gotta ease in…you’re too big” You whined out softly, trembling as you turned your head to look at him, gasping when he thrust his hips up roughly, pushing his knot deeper inside of your welcoming body.
 .
 “No. You take me well…such a good bitch for your alpha…”
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 You groaned quietly, burying your face against the soft pillows he had gathered for you, choosing to instead ride out the slow thrusts he insisted upon doing; able to feel his knot throbbing inside of you and filling you with his hot seed.
 “Hey Tama…?” He grunted in response to your trailed off question, licking at your spine tenderly to soothe the bitemarks he had left behind; a peaceful kind of contentment settling over you.
 “After this one…with the next knot, I want you to keep going…I wanna know what it feels like to have you fuck me until I’m broken…” You smiled at the thought, peeking back at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes; the very same kind that you had had when you first asked Tamaki to fuck you in his transformed state.
 “Will you do that for me, my handsome alpha? Will you break me and breed me?” Tamaki let out a deep, hungry growl at your words, beginning to rut his hips at a faster pace; one of his hands tangling itself into your hair, yanking on it harshly until tears began to prick at your eyes.
 .
 “Break…? I can break…let me…fragile mate, so easy…”
 .
 You choked out a whimper of pleasure when he began to pick up his pace, his knot tugging at your walls harshly with each movement of his hips; the pleasure was already too much for you but the sudden jolts of pain from his harsh movements made you cry out his name in the kind of breathy way that drove your poor werewolf insane.
 Stirring up every desire he had to see you swollen with his seed.
 .
 “I can’t wait…to see you broken and craving me…begging me…”
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simul16 · 4 years
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Five Dubiously Powerful Spell Combos and How to Beat Them
"They always say that two spells are better than one, and with some careful planning, these spell combinations might win you the day and end a combat encounter." - Dungeon Dudes, "Five Powerful Spell Combos using Teamwork in Dungeons and Dragons 5e"
On YouTube, the Dungeon Dudes channel released a surprisingly low-effort video relating five spell combos that a single caster cannot use, since the spells involved require concentration, and the rules prevent a caster from maintaining concentration on a spell while casting another spell that requires concentration. One of the Dudes helpfully gives the quote above at the start of the video, which entices you by imagining that you can gain the assistance of another spellcaster in your party and use these combos to dominate your campaign's combat encounters, prying easy victories out of otherwise challenging or even deadly encounters.
The problem is not that these combos don't do what the Dudes say they do (though in one case they come very close to misrepresenting what the combo can do), but rather that in most cases, the advantage they provide isn't as powerful as advertised, and more importantly, are fairly easily defeated with a single opposing spell. So, in the interest of helping DMs everywhere maintain their image of undefeatable, unflappable rules mastery, here are the combos suggested by the Dungeon Dudes, as well as why they're not as impressive as the Dudes make them out to be, and where applicable, providing the means to defeat those combos by adding a specific spell or ability to your encounter.
First, though, I'm going to spill the beans on the best friend a DM will ever have when dealing with PCs who are over-enamored of their spellcasting ability: Dispel Magic. A third level spell available on nearly every spell list (in the Player's Handbook, only the Ranger spell list doesn't include this spell), Dispel Magic allows the caster to choose a magical effect and automatically end that magical effect if the spell slot used to create it is equal to or less than the slot used to cast Dispel Magic, and even if the targeted effect was cast with a higher-level spell slot, the caster of Dispel Magic still gets a check to see if she can end the effect anyway. An additional bonus is that, if the caster of Dispel Magic chooses to target a creature or object instead of a specific magical effect, the spell ends "[a]ny spell" on that target, meaning that a single Dispel Magic can be used to completely remove all low-level buffs on a PC, from Bless and Aid to Haste and See Invisibility. Every one of the below combos relies on at least one long-duration spell, and though disrupting a caster's concentration is possible, many players who want to make use of these combos will likely have already taken steps to improve their ability to pass Concentration checks to the point where only the most powerful monsters have a reasonable chance to disrupt the PC's spells that way; a simple Dispel Magic is a far more efficient way to handle the same problematic spells.
1. The Witches [sic] Web
The first combo recommended by the Dungeon Dudes is an attempt to make useful in combat a feature of a spell that the designers have admitted wasn't intended to be useful in combat, but simply to add flavor related to folklore: the 'disadvantage on ability checks' feature of the Hex spell. The Witch's Web takes advantage of this by debuffing the target's Strength checks, then casting Web to force the target to attempt Strength checks at disadvantage to escape the web. The Dudes point out that this is particularly effective against monsters without spells or ranged attacks, and thus rely on powerful melee attacks to deal their damage.
The Flaw: Strength isn't the key ability score to beat Web, and disadvantage isn't as powerful in this context as you think.
The Dungeon Dudes correctly point out that, if a creature is already trapped in a web, it must use its action to attempt a Strength check versus the spell save DC of the caster who created the web in order to break out of the web. However, what the Dudes fail to point out is that a creature must first fail a Dexterity saving throw before it is even trapped within the web. So monsters with a high Dexterity saving throw can avoid being trapped, move out of the web, and avoid having to deal with the web in future rounds, and the Hex spell has nothing to say about it, as even if Dexterity is chosen as the affected characteristic, the Hex spell doesn't apply to saving throws -- only ability checks.
However, let's say you've got exactly the right combination of circumstances going -- a big, burly creature with limited or no ranged attacks and no spells and with a relatively low Dexterity score, so a correspondingly low Dexterity saving throw. Let's call him a troll, a creature with three melee attacks and no ranged attack, and with a Dexterity saving throw bonus of just +1, meaning the average 3rd level spellcaster will catch him in a web fairly frequently with her spell save DC of 13 (8, +3 from the spellcasting stat, +2 from proficiency). Now that the troll is caught, the warlock casts Hex, forcing the troll to attempt his Strength check to escape the web with disadvantage. Brilliant! The DM rolls the first Strength check with disadvantage, both dice result in totals of 9 or higher (which happens over 25% of the time this situation occurs), and the troll breaks free, then moves out of the web to annihilate the party. With a +4 on Strength saving throws, beating a DC of 13, even with disadvantage, isn't nearly as challenging as most PCs think. And this, of course, only applies to the one troll who has been Hexed; any additional trolls make their saves normally, which gives them a better than 50% chance of breaking free each round.
Higher levels don't necessarily improve the situation. Let's say instead that we're talking about an 8th level caster who has improved her spell save DC to 15 (8, +4 from the spellcasting stat, +3 from proficiency), trying to capture a fire giant (who for some reason doesn't have rocks handy to throw). The giant is even stronger, and thus despite the higher save DC only needs an 8 or higher on its check to break free of the web (it has the same chance of being caught as the troll, since it has a +3 to Dex saving throws versus the save DC of 15, against the troll's +1 to Dex saving throws versus the save DC of 13), giving the fire giant a 36% chance to break free each round, even with disadvantage. And as above, if there are more than one fire giant, the ones who aren't Hexed can make their saves normally, with a 60% chance of breaking free each round.
The key here is that too many players have bought into the idea that disadvantage is statistically equivalent to a -5 modifier, which it can be in the right circumstance -- for example, if a check that would normally succeed on a 6 or better (75% chance is made with disadvantage, the odds that both rolls will still be a 6 or better becomes 50%, equivalent to the odds of a single roll being made at 11 or better, which equates to a -5 penalty. But in situations where a creature already has a very high chance of succeeding on the roll, imposing disadvantage does very little to affect the outcome. A creature who succeeds on a 2 or higher (95% chance of success) who makes the roll with disadvantage still has a 90% chance of success (.95 * .95 = .9025), meaning in effect the disadvantage is only equivalent to a -1 to the roll for that creature. If a creature already has a great chance of escaping the web even without disadvantage, imposing disadvantage will not turn that creature's odds that much against it.
The win: Freedom of Movement
However, if the fire giants have a priest on hand, then it's even easier to frustrate your players who try this trick; simply have the priest cast Freedom of Movement on the giant they target with Hex. The spell requires touch, so the priest may have to be in the web along with the Hexed giant, but odds are that the PCs targeted the 'biggest' giant with the Hex to get the most 'bang for their buck' so to speak. Once affected, the target of Freedom of Movement "is unaffected by difficult terrain, and spells and other magical effects can neither reduce the target's speed nor cause the target to be paralyzed or restrained." Since the effect of a failed save versus Web is to be restrained, the creature affected by Freedom of Movement effectively becomes immune to Web (and similar spells like Bigby's Hand mentioned in the Dudes' video which work by either forcing the target to treat the area as difficult terrain or causing the target to be restrained). The best part of this counter is that Freedom of Movement isn't a concentration spell, so can't be defeated by damaging the priest. However, the now Free giant can seek out the caster concentrating on the web and pummel them in the hopes of disrupting the caster's concentration, causing the web to vanish and freeing all the other giants at one blow.
2. Combat Glow Up
The next combo is likewise an interesting combination of buffs with a wrinkle; it makes use of a spell that is seen on many lists of underrated D&D spells: Faerie Fire. The idea is that one caster, likely a cleric, will cast Bless on three members of the party, then another character will case Faerie Fire on the opponents, causing them to 'light up' and provide advantage to the entire party, including the blessed PCs. This results, in the Dudes' own words in a "massive accuracy boost" against the enemies.
The intent behind this combo is actually a solid one -- some monsters may have a very high AC for their challenge rating, and the challenge is to find alternative ways of dealing damage to those creatures. One example of such a creature is a Will-o'-Wisp, who has an AC of 19 despite having only a challenge rating of 2 (while most CR 2 creatures have an AC of closer to 13). An entire party of 3rd level characters going up against a group of will-o'-wisps isn't going to hit them all that often with weapons or spell attacks versus AC, as those characters are likely to not have much higher than a base +5 to hit (some exceptions exist, such as for characters using the Archery fighting style, but those character likely also have the Sharpshooter feat and rely on taking the -5 penalty to attack from the feat and still consistently hitting to deal significant bonus damage). At just +5 to attack, these PCs need a 14 or better to hit the wisps, which only succeeds 35% of the time. However, add in a minimum of +1 from the Bless spell (with the chance of getting as high as +4, for an 'average' bonus of +2.5), and advantage from the Faerie Fire spell, the odds of hitting easily doubles, turning a number of frustrating combat rounds into satisfying ones. Even better, the will-o'-wisps can't use their Invisibility actions to fade out while the faerie fire is glowing on them, as the spell prevents them from getting the benefit of being invisible while it's running. That's a win-win!
The Flaw: As with disadvantage in the previous example, advantage becomes less important when a character already has a high chance of success. Plus, between the saving throw and the inherent restriction on Faerie Fire, the spell is a lot easier to defeat than most players think.
It should be noted that will-o'-wisps are the exception and not the rule for monster AC versus CR, and there are as many monsters whose AC is far lower than would be expected for their CR as there are monsters who far exceed their expected AC. Let's look at the same trick done to a group of zombies, with AC 8. Given that the PCs already have a +5 to hit, and the bless spell will give them a minimum of +1 to attack, they already will only fail to hit on a roll of 1. Advantage will make it harder for them to fail that way, as they'll need to roll 'double 1s' to miss, but rolling a 1 isn't so common that you should feel the need to burn a spell slot to avoid the problem. Certain characters will still see a benefit regardless, such as the aforementioned archery PCs with Sharpshooter as well as rogues who will benefit from having Sneak Attack enabled for every attack, but those characters have a different problem to work around -- the benefit of Faerie Fire is conditional on the characters' ability to see their targets.
Now you might think this is a fairly challenging hurdle to get over, given that Faerie Fire causes the affected creatures to emit light, which illuminates them from within natural darkness, and it explicitly prevents them from gaining the benefit of invisibility, which prevents them from going unseen via that route. But there are more ways to hide than just going invisible.
The Win: Darkness
We've mentioned that 'natural' darkness isn't a barrier for Faerie Fire, as the affected creatures shed magical light in a 10 foot radius, easily enough to see for PCs planning to fight in melee or even at range on an open battlefield. Magical darkness, however, is another matter, and defeats Faerie Fire in two ways.
First off, the granting of advantage by Faerie Fire is conditional, and not noted by the Dudes: in order to gain advantage, the attacker must be able to see the enlightened target. If the attacker, however, is in a field of magical darkness, that character can't see and thus not only doesn't gain the benefit of advantage from the Faerie Fire, but gains disadvantage for not being able to see the target at all.
However, this brings up the better use of Darkness: "If any of this spell's area overlaps with an area of light created by a spell of 2nd level or lower, the spell that created the light is dispelled." (Emphasis mine) Note that Faerie Fire is a 1st level spell, so its lights qualify for this effect. And note as well that if any of the light from a 1st (or 2nd) level Faerie Fire falls into an area of magical darkness created by this spell, the entire spell is dispelled. Lastly, note that like the Light spell, the Darkness spell can be cast on an object and the object placed within or under an opaque object to 'block' the darkness, so that the caster could cast the spell, dispel Faerie Fire, then put the darkened object under a bowl or helmet to 'block' the darkness, preventing it from affecting her allies, then re-releasing it if a PC tries re-casting Faerie Fire to dispel the new casting.
Two other things to note as well: first, that Darkness is a concentration spell itself, and it does nothing to eliminate the Bless effect, but against opponents where the Faerie Fire effect is the more potent buff, Darkness makes an effective, elegant counter. Second, astute PCs can work around enemies who use Darkness as a counter to Faerie Fire by simply casting Faerie Fire with a minimum 3rd level spell slot, which makes the spell too powerful to be beaten by Darkness. (Darkness also explicitly only dispels light created by "2nd level or lower" spells, not spells equal to or lower than the level of the spell used to cast Darkness, so unless you want to rule otherwise, Darkness cannot be cast with a higher level slot to dispel a 3rd level or higher Faerie Fire.) However, at this point, your creatures can use Dispel Magic rather than Darkness to achieve the same effect.
3. Righteous Stampede
This combo is the first one I'd call truly dubious, as it makes use of two spells that honestly aren't all that potent and have been (rightly, IMO) called out for being underpowered for their level: Conjure Animals and Crusader's Mantle. Still, the theory is interesting: summon a number of beasts (that count as fey creatures while summoned by this spell), and have the paladin buff them with Crusader's Mantle to deal bonus damage, since the summoned creatures are explicitly noted as being friendly to you, and the Mantle provides its bonus damage to "nonhostile" creatures, resulting in massive potential damage output.
The Flaw: Beasts don't scale, nor does the Mantle
The problem with summoning beasts using a 3rd level spell is that the beasts you can summon aren't all that impressive to begin with, and the higher level you get, the less impressive the options become, especially since casting the spell with a higher level spell slot does not get you more powerful animals, but simply more of the currently underpowered animals you were already conjuring. (Granted, this is the main reason why alternative spells like Conjure Elemental or Conjure Celestial exist, but that doesn't make this spell any more effective.)
Two fairly common options for summoning beasts via this spell are elk (cited by the Dudes themselves) and wolves. Both are CR 1/4 beasts and thus can be summoned in a group of up to eight such creatures with a single casting of Conjure Animals. Elk have the advantage of a higher attack bonus (+5), and can deal solid damage following a Charge (a total of 3d6+3, not counting the Crusader's Mantle), while wolves have the benefit of gaining advantage on attacks against targets they team up against via their Pack Tactics ability, meaning that their lower bonus (+4) may actually prove more useful against a wider array of opponents. But note that Conjure Animals is a 3rd level spell, meaning the caster has to be a minimum 5th level to be able to cast the spell. At this point, it's less likely that you'll be sending these elk or wolves against orcs or kobolds than against trolls or more powerful or exotic opponents.
And if the conjuration portion of the combo is limiting, the Mantle portion is even more limiting. While Crusader's Mantle is a 3rd level spell, it only exists (in the PH anyway) on the paladin spell list, and paladins don't get access to this spell until level 9 at minimum; at this point, your party will likely have even left trolls behind and will be engaging giants, golems, and other powerful enemies with ACs high enough so that a mere +5 to attack will frequently miss, resulting in exactly zero bonus damage from the Crusader's Mantle spell.
The Win: Protection from Evil and Good, or do nothing
As the DM, you honestly don't have to do anything in order to feel like you're getting an advantage against your players when they use this combo. If all eight conjured creatures are within the area of the aura (and as per the spell's description, the 'nonhostile' creature must be within the 30 ft radius aura when it attacks to gain the bonus radiant damage from the spell), and all eight hit, the spell provides a bonus 8d4 radiant damage as a result. (One of the Dudes briefly mentions 10d4 as the potential damage from this spell, but with no explanation as to how he arrived at that number; perhaps he was considering the two casters also attacking while affected by the spell, but those characters would be attacking regardless of whether the summoned beasts existed or not, so don't really count as part of the combo.) Had the paladin instead simply used the spell slot for a Divine Smite, he would have dealt a minimum of 4d8 bonus radiant damage, with even more damage possible depending on the target attacked and if the attack resulted in a critical hit. Using Crusader's Mantle might be beneficial for buffing party members, especially against enemies who are vulnerable to radiant damage or against whom radiant damage has a beneficial effect (such as turning off regeneration or fast healing), but as a DM, you'd rather see this use of the spell slot than having the paladin save it for crit-fishing a Divine Smite in most cases. 'Doing nothing' is a valid response to this combo.
If, however, you find your players summoning wolves and getting a solid benefit out of the wolves' Pack Tactics ability, then Protection from Evil and Good is a useful counter, as the spell causes fey creatures (which the summoned beasts count as per the description of the Conjure Animals spell) to suffer disadvantage on all attacks against the warded creature, negating the wolves' Pack Tactics ability against that target. (This would also apply to the elk summoning option, though as we discussed in combo 1 above, disadvantage is not as harmful if the roll being made already has a very low or very high chance of success. Using Protection from Evil and Good against creatures to impose disadvantage rather than to negate advantage is thus more of a question of DM style than pure tactics.)
4. The Play Pen
Potentially the most useful of the combos on this list, largely because it's a combo that has existed in many prior editions of D&D (as well as Pathfinder) and is a favorite of cheese-seeking parties everywhere. Simply put, use a spell to create a hazard or monster, then use Wall of Force to entrap your enemy within the wall with the thing you created, then sit back and watch the fun!
The Flaw: Most things you create can't beat most things you fight solo, and watching a combat isn't nearly as much fun as participating in combat.
Though the Dudes suggest a number of lower-level alternatives to create a hazard to put in the play pen with your opponent, this combo relies on the ability to cast Wall of Force, a 5th level spell that requires a minimum of 9th level caster to be effective. This combo thus presumes a relatively high level party of PCs, and thus relatively high level opponents. The description of the combo makes it seem as though it would be ideal for a single solo opponent, though in honesty it's probably better thought of as an alternative to the Witch's Web for high level enemy groups as a means to isolate one powerful member of the enemy team and weaken it while dealing with the rest of the enemies in the combat.
The reason why this likely won't work for solo enemies is pretty obvious, once you spend any time thinking about it. Let's say you use the Dudes' suggestion of Summon Greater Demon (from Xanathar's Guide to Everything) and lock it in the play pen with your opponent. You've now put a creature capable of serving as a challenge for an entire party of 9th level or higher adventurers, and isolated it against a CR 5 demon. That's not going to end well for your summoned demon, and after that, you've got a (possibly slightly damaged) enemy inside a Wall of Force that you can't get at until the wall is lowered. The one advantage that this combo has over the other combos on this list is that the Wall of Force, the key component of the combo, is explicitly immune to being dispelled by Dispel Magic, but given that the Wall also prevents most spellcasting and that "nothing can pass physically through the wall", its unlikely that putting your enemy in a box is going to make your encounter all that easier to deal with; in fact, you've got one less 5th level spell slot to use on other magic to fight the monster once you find you have no other choice but to let it out of the play pen.
The Win: teleportation
Of course, just because nothing can "physically" pass through the wall doesn't mean that the wall is impenetrable. The simplest way around the problem is to have an enemy capable of teleporting itself, either via a spell like Teleport, Dimension Door, or even Misty Step, or via an item with the same ability. Many high CR enemies already have such abilities built-in to their design, possibly with this kind of tactic already in mind from prior editions of the game, but if they don't, there are many magic items in the DMG that can be used to provide such an effect to a suitable boss monster.
This move is even more entertaining once the PCs have set up their play pen and your monster simply teleports out of it, leaving the carefully chosen hazard trapped harmlessly inside the wall of force. Bonus points if the monster uses a spell scroll that, by implication, would have been treasure the party could have looted off the monster's corpse once they defeated it.
The last item to consider is that the Dudes also suggest that putting the enemy in the play pen with the party's barbarian might also be plenty entertaining, yet that option is actually a pretty shatteringly bad idea; yes, you get an opponent who can't escape the barbarian (assuming it can't teleport), but it likely couldn't have outrun the barbarian anyway, and now you can't get to the barbarian to heal him, restore buffs that the imprisoned boss monster is able to dispel or counter, or really do anything useful in the ensuing fight. Having to pass multiple turns in a fight where other PCs are happily rolling attack and damage dice is not a recipe for a fun night at the gaming table for any player, and doesn't lead to a happy party by the end of the night.
5. Bad Advice
I'll refer to this combo as the 'Illusionist's Delight', because it's the kind of thing that my old AD&D-era illusionist characters delighted in doing: setting up illusory situations and using them to manipulate enemies into destroying themselves. The specific combo here uses Phantasmal Force to create an illusory bit of safety over an otherwise deadly hazard, and then Suggestion to convince an opponent to make use of the illusory safety, to its downfall. However, the combo is significantly more powerful as presented by the Dudes than it really is, largely due to more of that 'low effort' research I alluded to at the start of this essay. There are a lot of holes in this strategy that a suitably prepared DM can use to prevent it from being more effective than intended.
The Flaw: Both spells are extremely single-target spells, and the Dudes misinterpret significant portions of the text of each
Phantasmal Force is a 2nd level spell that creates an illusion in the mind of its target that only it can perceive, and both gives the target an initial Intelligence saving throw to disbelieve the illusion, as well as a followup Intelligence (Investigation) check each round it chooses to use it to further cause the illusion to be dispelled. The Dudes make a big deal of the text of Suggestion that notes that a target cannot be persuaded to do something obviously harmful, but that "nothing in the rules" suggests that an illusory bridge that the creature didn't know existed prior to just a few moments ago would convince the creature that the formerly hazardous area is now safe. They also put a great deal of stock in the text of Phantasmal Force that they say makes the target rationalize "the oddity of something suddenly appearing"; that's not actually what the text says, rather, the text of Phantasmal Force says "[t]he target rationalizes any illogical outcomes from interacting with the phantasm." In other words, the target rationalizes falling off an illusory bridge by imagining that something pushed it or caused it to slip rather than that the bridge is an illusion; nothing in the spell description suggests that the target suddenly believes that something that didn't previously exist now does exist. I'd imagine that this specific situation is why the target receives an Intelligence saving throw versus the illusion; success indicates that the target realizes that the object it perceives could not possibly exist, allowing it to shake off the mistaken perception that it does exist, and in a situation where a caster does a bad job of presenting the illusion in a believable way, I'd even grant the subject advantage on that saving throw (keeping in mind that a suitably persuasive or convincing reason why the object should exist would also then justify imposing disadvantage on the saving throw).
Another issue, minor but possibly significant, is that the Phantasmal Force spell explicitly only allows creating an illusion no larger than a 10-foot cube (not the same thing as 10 cubic feet, but still not all that large); the example used in the video of an illusory bridge over a chasm is likely to be very hard to pull off unless you happen to be at a place where the chasm is actually less than 10 feet wide (because some parts of the bridge would have to exist on the physical 'land' parts of the chasm, or it would further suspend belief in the reality of the bridge); simply put, a chasm larger than 10 feet across can't be successfully 'trapped' using this combo without truly imaginative setup.
Another thing to keep in mind is that these two spells have differing, largely non-overlapping criteria for the kinds of creatures that can't be affected. Phantasmal Force outright doesn't work against constructs or the undead, so vampires, mummies, and golems are immune to that portion of the combo. Meanwhile, creatures immune to the Charmed condition, who are deaf, or who can't understand the caster's language are immune to Suggestion, so many low-Intelligence creatures who would otherwise be highly susceptible to Phantasmal Force won't be able to be convinced to interact with the illusion via Suggestion.
But the real wrench in the gears of this combo is that both Phantasmal Force and Suggestion are single-target spells, and if the enemy you're trying to persuade via this combo has any other allied creatures in the vicinity, this combo has so many flaws as to become near-useless. The one drow elf you've hit with Phantasmal Force is convinced that the thing you created actually exists, but none of the other drow in his patrol group see it, and they can just as easily hear the suggestion even though they aren't directly affected. They have many options to dissuade their addled comrade from hurting himself, from trying to convince him that he should examine the object before using it (persuading the affected target to make an Intelligence (Investigation) check before using the illusory object) to outright grappling or otherwise preventing the target from carrying out the not obviously suicidal request. Or, with a bit of planning, they could use...
The Win: Counter-illusions
Part of the fun of using illusion magic is being able to create a battlefield of perception in the mind of another creature, with the strongest caster winning. In this sense, a great option when dealing with an illusionist is to have that character's nemesis also be an illusionist, and thus any encounter featuring the nemesis, known or unknown, can turn into such a battle.
But how do you as DM adjudicate who wins those battles fairly? It's actually easier than you think, thanks to the rules for Combining Magical Effects on p. 205 of the Player's Handbook: "The effects of the same spell cast multiple times don't combine, however. Instead the most potent effect -- such as the highest bonus -- from those castings applies while their durations overlap." The example given in the rules uses Bless as the example, but the same logic can be applied to the use of Phantasmal Force.
So how do you know which casting is more potent? I'd use the following: if two illusion spells are cast to achieve contradictory effects, the higher level spell takes precedence; if the two spells have the same name, the spell cast with a higher level spell slot takes precedence; if the two spells were cast with the same level spell slot, the spell whose saving throw was failed by a larger margin takes precedence; if both spell saves were failed by the same amount (or you didn't remember to keep track of one or both of the margins of failure), the higher spell save DC takes precedence; if the spells have the same save DC, the higher caster level takes precedence; if the casters are the same level, choose randomly between the spell effects.
Note, though, that it's not always necessary to duplicate the same effect to render an illusion unbelievable: to defeat a Phantasmal Force of a bridge crossing a narrow rift in a chasm, a Silent Image that the chasm is actually 15 feet rather than 6 feet wide would be sufficient. Even though Silent Image is a lower level spell, its reality renders the reality of the Phantasmal Force absurd and thus defeats it, and Phantasmal Force cannot 'overwrite' the reality of Silent Image where the Silent Image affects the world outside of Phantasmal Force's area of effect.
So there you have it; five low-effort spell combos analyzed and defeated through (very) slightly more effort. Your game, if not your players, will hopefully be the better for it.
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laresearchette · 3 years
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Sunday, April 25, 2021 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)
WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: 93rd ANNUAL ACADEMY AWARDS (CTV) 8:00pm BIOGRAPHY: "ROWDY" RODDY PIPER (A&E Canada) 8:00pm 90 DAY FIANCÉ: HAPPILY EVER AFTER? (TLC Canada) 8:00pm EXTREME SISTERS (TLC Canada) 10:00pm
WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT     NAKED AND AFRAID XL     (TBD - Discovery Canada) TOP GEAR (TBD - BBC First) WORST COOKS IN AMERICA (TBD - Makeful) DESIGNED WITH LOVE (TBD) MURDEROUS HISTORY (TBD)
NEW TO AMAZON PRIME/CRAVE/NETFLIX CANADA/CBC GEM:
NETFLIX CANADA RUPAUL’S SECRET CELEBRITY DRAG RACE (Season 1)
HUMPTY’S CHAMPIONSHIP CUP CURLING: (SN1) 11:30am: Women’s Final (SN/SN1) 4:00pm: Men’s Final
MLB BASEBALL (SN) 1:00pm: Jays vs. Rays (TSN/TSN3) 7:00pm: Padres vs. Dodgers
NBA BASKETBALL (TSN3/TSN4) 1:00pm: Celtics vs. Hornets (TSN3/TSN4) 3:30pm: Suns vs. Nets (TSN4/TSN5) 7:30pm: Bucks vs. Hawks (SN1) 10:00pm: Kings vs. Warriors
MLS SOCCER (TSN2) 6:00pm: LA Galaxy vs. NY Red Bulls
NHL HOCKEY (SN) 7:00pm: Blue Jackets vs. Lightning
TAKEN BACK: FINDING HALEY (CTV2) 8:00pm: A woman takes drastic action when she finds her abducted daughter.
DINNER: IMPOSSIBLE (Food Network Canada) 8:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE):  Robert Irvine's mission brings him to an abandoned mining town in Cerro Gordo; his challenge is to prepare a meal for Amy Bruni and Adam Berry of Kindred Spirits, using the same ingredients and equipment as miners had in 1865.
THE EVIL TWIN (Lifetime Canada) 8:00pm: A woman escapes from an abusive relationship by moving back to her hometown, only to discover she has a long-lost twin sister who may be a murderer.
JUNIOR CHEF SHOWDOWN (Food Network Canada) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): In their first Skills Test, the Junior Chefs must serve-up a signature egg dish. Then, elimination is on the line as the Junior Chefs prepare a mouth-watering platter of burger sliders that expresses their individual cooking style and background.
THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE (Documentary) 9:00pm:  Investigative journalists Habiba Nosheen and Hilke Schellmann provide insight into the lives of three high-profile American lawyers who defend accused terrorists.
DRIVEWAYS (Super Channel Fuse) 9:00pm: A lonely boy goes with his mother to help clean out his late aunt's house.
ISLAND OF BRYAN (HGTV Canada) 10:00pm: When an Oak Island local leads the team to a previously unknown giant wharf, the mystery of Samuel Ball deepens.
THE GREAT FOOD TRUCK RACE (Food Network Canada) 10:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): On Flattop Mountain in Alaska, Tyler welcomes seven new aspiring food truck teams to the competition; the keys to their food trucks are frozen within 200-pound blocks of ice; the teams battle the Alaskan elements to see who can sell the most food.
THE CURSE OF OAK ISLAND (History Canada) 10:00pm: The team uncovers what appears to be a wooden doorway under Samuel Ball's property and a new Templar connection is made when an ancient tool is discovered in the swamp.
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datleggy · 4 years
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I just have this crossover for 911 and Prodigal Son. Some psycho obsessed with birthmarks is rampaging, starting in NY and heading to LA where on a routine fire call a victim is discovered, having Malcolm and co. cross paths with the firefam and immediately zeroing in on the handsome guy with the birthmark. Buck and Malcolm immediately hit it off, Eddie is jealous, and a serial killer who's already targeted Buck. He's in for a shock because Buck the man puppy is more dangerous than he lets on.
👀👀👀 i want buck to just carry malcolm in those giant arms of his at some point in this crossover
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spiideygeek · 4 years
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brad davis said hello! | solo
who: pete, harry, everyone in midtown high and queens lol.
what: just an overview.
where: queens, ny.
when: jan/feb 2021.
FRIDAY 15 JANUARY, 2021.
It was time for Peter’s favourite and most hated place on earth: school.
Pushing himself through the worn doors of Midtown High, it took some time for Peter to notice people were pointing and whispering at him. They were staring. But... not in a bad way. In shock, surprise at how he was suddenly way more interesting to look at. Seeing some girls giggle awkwardly as he walked by, Peter gave them a shy smile but was confused; how had this happened?
Opening up his locker carefully, he felt hands on his shoulders and a happy “Pete!” to follow. Harry Osborn. His oldest and closest friend. The rich friend, the kind friend, the one that had always had his back and stood by him against the taunts and teases of high school drama. “Woah, what happened to you?!” Harry took a step back, admiring how muscular his friend suddenly, how he even seemed... taller.
Biting his lip, Pete used the same lie. “I’ve been working out.” His friend stared in silence before bursting out into loud laughter. “Working out? That’s funny, Parker, I’ve missed your jokes -- hey, how did the internship go yesterday?” He asked, smacking Pete gently on the shoulder as he closed his locker. “Dad was really happy you accepted it.” Smiling as they walked down the corridor, Peter only shook his head.
“Try doing an internship with Gwen Stacy.”
“You’re partnered with Gwen?” Harry only laughed more, “Dude, this is what happens when you’re both two giant nerds; there’s no one else to put you with. As if your life couldn’t get any weirder.”
Peter only nodded, staring ahead. “You have no idea.” 
THAT EVENING.
So he couldn’t find the spiders, but that was okay! Peter had concluded that his theories on the sudden changes in his life all began with that radioactive spider he’d seen at ESU laboratories all those days ago. Whilst he initially thought it was just a harmless bug, he’d suddenly felt filled with dread at how he didn’t realise; being bitten by a bug in a room full of genetically engineered spiders... meant they could be only one culprit.
But what did it all mean? He was taller, had muscules and was no longer blind. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with that, no? But there were other things. Strange things. Everything in the world felt... slower. Louder, clearer. He could sense... everything before it was happening. He could stop everything from happening. Every time he dropped his phone, he caught it. Every time someone on the street was about to bump right into him, he avoided any collision with such ease. Every time he stumbled over his own feet... he didn’t. His posture was better, he moved more quickly, agile, smoothly. And why did everything keep sticking to his hands?!
Usually, Fridays were reserved for Harry coming over to Pete’s for the night. Or vice versa. But today, the teenager had cancelled, citing too much homework to catch up on as his excuse. Instead, Peter found himself in the many alleyways of Queens, pacing back and forth as he figured out what to do. Where to start. Where did you start with a thing like this?
“Think... if it was the spider, what can spiders... do.” He mumbled, frowning in thought. Glancing at his hands, he recalled how everything kept sticking to his hands. And spiders... they stuck to walls. Raising an eyebrow, he glanced to a red brick wall to his left, and then to the tips of his fingers. “... Maybe if I..” Reaching forward, he pressed his hand against the brick. It stuck. “Huh.”
Then he pressed the other one. “Spiders crawl, Pete... they don’t just stand there...” Hesitating, he prayed he didn’t look stupid and pressed his foot on the wall. Then the other. And sure enough. He didn’t fall. “Woah!” He gasped, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Now, where? “Up.” He mumbled, eyes slowly glancing to the top of the building. Sighing slowly, he began to crawl up the wall, slowly, but excitedly, in awe of how he wasn’t even falling.”Holy sh-... this is amazing.” He whispered, continuing to climb up until he reached the top.
“Woah, this is... higher than I imagined.” Pete wasn’t scared of heights but even this was pushing it a little. Moving to his feet, he took in the view of the city for a moment, not even touching the limits of the skyscrapers yet. He was hardly touching the surface. Glancing behind him, he realised what he had just done. “Okay!... Not strange at all...” What else did Spiders do? Frowning, he firmly pressed his feet into the ground, bouncing on the soles of his feet for a while, when suddenly --
He went flying. 
Residents of Queens reported hearing a loud, high pitch scream and a black dot moving through the sky on social media that night. That black dot and scream were Peter Parker. Jumping from one building to the other. With lots of cussing escaping his lips. Very scary. “OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs, arms flailing about as he realised what he was doing. Looking past the fears, this... was incredible. 
Then he fell flat on his face onto the roof of the next building.
“Spiders can jump... Noted.” He groaned, lifting his head and picking the bits of gravel off that were stuck to his face. His legs felt like jelly but... that was amazing. Glancing up at the sky, he rubbed his eye and allowed himself a moment to take in what just happened, breathing heavily as his shock turned to a grin. Carefully rising to his feet, things started to make a little more sense. Could he swing? Did he have webs?... Could he grow more arms and legs? That one didn’t sound so fun. 
He could do backflips, though! When the hell was that a thing? “That...was incredible!” He cried in excitement considering Peter Parker was the opposite of athletic and had never been able to anything like that. In joy, the boy raised his arms above him in triumph but as he did something odd happened; a strange liquid shot right out from his wrists, flying into the sky. “Woah!” He stumbled back, watching it fly into the distance. Webbing! It had to be webbing! He wanted to do that again. He shot his arm up, but nothing.
“Aw, come on!”
Peter had a lot of practice to do.
MONDAY 18TH JANUARY, 2021.
School went as it always did. Loads of math, loads of history and not enough lunch. Harry seemed fascinated the entire time with just how different his friend looked, noticing everything from the lack of acne to the no glasses... he looked like a completely different person. In all honesty, Peter was dying for the school day to end; ever since he had figured out what he could do, all he wanted to do... was explore. Climb a little higher, swing a little faster. Yes, he could swing now. 
As the pair of friends left the building for a day, Pete and Harry had intentions of catching the all too slow school bus back to Pete’s house. Harry always preferred it there. Yet as they walked down the main path, their exit was suddenly blocked by an intruder. Flash Thompson.
“Hey, Parker.” The bully wore that same malicious grin he always did. Pete thought he looked like a bulldog more than anything else. “Look at you, you don’t look a third-grader anymore. I’d say maybe fifth now.” He pulled at Peter’s sweater, noticing how tall he suddenly seemed as well. Beside him stood a group of students huddled around the table, most of whom laughed. Even with muscles, he couldn’t escape the wrath of Flash.
“That’s funny, Flash.” Peter sighed, trying to move out of his way, “Still doing third-grade math work?” The people laughed again and Flash’s grin fell into a glare. Grabbing Pete by the shoulder, he shoved him onto the bench and moved to sit opposite him. Harry moved to stand behind his friend, frowning in confusion. 
“Arm wrestling,” someone else said, gesturing to the table, “Cash if you win, twenty bucks. But no one’s beaten Flash.” 
Arm wrestling?! The bully smirked darkly at Peter who’s eyes widened in horror. He was no arm wrestler and he was definitely not as strong as Flash. The dude was a rock, he’d squish him like a bug in seconds! Pete let out nervous stammers, trying to move away, but it was too late; the bully had grabbed his arm and centred it on the table, waiting to start. “I’m gonna enjoy this.”
Peter gulped loudly, turning to Harry who said, “Ignore him, Pete.” in words of confidence. Though... his face didn’t look very confident. Hearing the students countdown from three to one, Pete braced himself for Flash to practically rip his whole arm, eyes squinting in fear and --
Nothing happened.
The bully’s face warped instantly from a smug demeanour to confusion. No matter how hard he pushed, Parker’s arm didn’t move an inch, and he wasn’t even trying to fight! And Pete didn’t feel a thing! Not an ounce of pain considering how hard the other male was trying. The now growing crowd around them watched in sheer surprise, some calling "Come on, Flash!” or “You can’t beat him?” But nothing. 
“Come on, Peter, kick his ass.” Harry grinned considering he wasn’t so afraid of Flash as his best friend. Blinking once, he gave it a go. The bully was getting angrier and angrier but nothing; Twenty bucks sounded great. And just like that... he had won. Within less than a second, the nerdy teenage boy had slammed Flash’s arm into the table, who let out a large cry of pain. The students around them let out cheers of excitement, glad to see someone else win finally. Looks like he was super strong now too. “Sorry, Flash,” The same student said, moving the twenty bucks from his side to Peter’s free hand. “Congrats, Parker, you won.”
AN HOUR LATER.
“That was amazing, Pete!” Harry and Peter walked through Queens, heading towards Peter’s house with two very large pizzas that they were shoving into their mouths. Courtesy of the twenty dollars. “Maybe you have been working out, guess I was wrong!” Pete couldn’t help but... enjoy his victory. Sure, it was small, but it felt good to feel like the strong one in the room for once. Literally and metaphorically. He bore a wide grin on his face. “It was pretty cool. And look! Five dollars to spare.”
“You should do that again! Think of all the cash you could make.” Whilst Pete, his aunt and uncle weren’t poor, money was tight and had to be watched carefully. He didn’t get the same luxuries Harry did, though he never really complained. However... the prospect of having cash did suddenly sound appealing.
“I dunno, Harry, I --” Looking up, Pete saw a classmate of theirs walk towards them. Brad Davis, star football player. He smiled too much. “Hey, Parker! Nice job beating Flash today.” The quarterback gave the boy a grin, patted him on the shoulder before walking on. Peter could only stare in... shock. “I... t-thanks, Brad!”
Harry and Pete watched the other student carry home, and Harry smacked his friend yet again. “Brad Davis said ‘nice job’ to you, Pete. And you think this isn’t a good idea? You could go from being nerdy Peter Parker to the guy every girl loves with his pockets full of cash and who Brad says ‘hey’ to! Doesn’t that sound even remotely fun?”
Peter frowned, pausing to think. It did seem silly that he had achieved many things academically over the years, but the thing that his classmates cared about was that he’d beat Flash Thompson in an arm wrestle. But that was Midtown High for you. Yet, not being seen as geeky Peter Parker anymore sounded fantastic.
“I... okay, sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”
FRIDAY 5TH FEBRUARY, 2021.
Over the past eighteen days, life had been amazing for Peter Parker. He’d gone from a nobody, someone people liked to trip up, to someone “everyone” loved. Or at least, that’s what Pete thought. He felt a little more noticed these days, and that had gone to his head. The only person who didn’t seem care still was Gwen Stacy -- she just did what she always did, rolled her eyes at him and made blunt remarks. Peter personally believed she was just jealous because he now had the one thing she’d always had -- popularity. Now, what had she got over him?
Yet he wasn’t popular at all. What Peter didn’t realise... was that no one really cared. Sure, everyone was fascinated by his new antics, but did they care about Peter himself? Not at all. His classmates had no concern for actually wanting to get to know him; He was still that kid who liked Star Wars too much for his own good, in the social world of high school... he was irrelevant. This was merely a means of entertainment; in two weeks time, they would move on to the next thing, and Peter Parker would return to being a nobody.
After persuasion from Harry, the boy had managed to bag himself plenty of cash from doing all sorts of things. Arm wrestles, races, how high he could climb something. All betting for and against him, it was now some sort of gambling event -- how much money could I win if Peter Parker did or didn’t do something? It was exciting for the stufents. But he always did, and he always came home with his pockets brimming in money. And he loved every second of it.
Today, Pete and a few classmates were stood in the alleyway beside one of the many grocery stores in Queens that sold cheap beer and chewing gum. Today, one of the school’s many athletes had challenged him to climb the fire escape stairs quicker than him, considering he was a free runner in his spare time. But that was too easy for Parker. The large group of students watched eagerly as the athlete bet Peter fifty bucks he could win, his biggest bet yet, but the loud noises and chatter didn’t go unnoticed; the shopkeeper of the very grocery store stepped aside.
“Hey!” He yelled, everyone turning to face him, “Get the hell outta here! You’re scaring away customers with all your stupid shit! Clear off before I call the cops!” Everyone hesitated, glancing at each other but the man was persistent. “I mean it!” Groaning and sighing, everyone rolled their eyes and began to disperse, except for Pete. He’d just lost out on fifty bucks and he was pissed.“You too, kid. You’re scaring off my damn customers!” 
Pete snickered, glancing around. “What customers?” He countered, gesturing to how empty it was. He didn’t appreciate that. Listening to the man moan on and on about the youth of today, he was about to simply walk away, but then he noticed something. Someone. A man wearing sunglasses and gloves creeping behind the owner, looking Pete dead in the eye and placing a finger on his lips. Don’t say a thing. Usually a good samaritan, the anger and arrogance inside made Peter... do nothing. 
The criminal slipped inside with no fuss, the shopkeeper not even realising he was being robbed. Yet Peter said nothing. “You understand, kid? Get outta here! I mean it, this ain’t your business!” Pete raised his arms in defence, turning around and beginning to walk away. 
However, not even seconds later, he heard the shopkeeper rush back outside, screaming yet again. “Someone stop that guy!” The criminal was running down the street with the cash in a bag. He turned to Pete, “Kid, which way did he go?!” 
Peter only shrugged, beginning to walk on. “It ain’t my business, sorry.” 
Continuing his walk home, he sighed sadly in the lack of money in his pockets but just wanted his bedroom. Aunt May would be wondering where he was. However, not too long after the robbery, Pete heard one loud gunshot in the distance that made him freeze in his place. The shot was booming... it echoed down the street, replayed in the back of his mind. “Holy shit.” He mumbled, eyes widening as he saw a commotion off in the distance. A crowd of pedestrians gathering. Beginning to pick up the pace, he saw a car with its door wide open and someone running away. The thug from earlier... with a gun in his hands.
Frowning, Peter wanted to get a closer look and noticed the criminal run right past him. “Thanks, kid.” He called, hurrying down the streets before the cops had time to arrive. The teenager’s stomach was beginning to churn the closer he got, hearing the panic of the civilians as they seemed to be stood around... a body. A man. Rushing close, Pete pushed his way through the crowd, some trying to help the injured man, some calling the police. “The guy tried to steal his car but he wouldn’t let him... so he just shot him!” Someone cried in panic. But Peter didn’t listen. 
Moving to the front, he finally saw who it was... and everything changed. His heart fell to his stomach and his skin turned cold, his hands beginning to shake. The teenage boy ignored the calls of the crowd telling him to stay back. 
“Uncle Ben!”
The teenage boy fell to his knees, seeing the way the older man could only stare at him, his breath hitching and his eyes watering from the pain. “Someone c-call an ambulance... call a fucking ambulance!” Peter screamed and screamed at the crowd, placing his hands on his uncle’s chest to put pressure on the wound. “Uncle Ben, it’s okay, it’s okay, j-just hold on, they’re gonna come, the ambulance is gonna c-come and you’re gonna be okay!”
Peter, a boy so smart, lost all rationale at that moment. The crowd knew the man wasn’t going to make it, the sheer amount of blood he’d lost, the wound, the look in his eyes... it was obvious. But Peter didn’t care. Ben Parker wasn’t going to die, he couldn’t die. He was going to be safe.
His voice was hoarse and it hurt to talk, but the teenager only grabbed his hand. “Pete...”
Peter shook his head furiously, his cheeks stained in hot tears burning his skin. “No... no, don’t say that Ben, they’ll b-be here any second and--” His eyes lost that shine. “Uncle Ben?... no, no! Stay with me, please!”
A man with a good heart, Ben had been known in their community as a giver. Always smiling and laughing, he was married to his childhood sweetheart May Reilly. If anyone needed help, it was always Ben Parker you could go to, even if it was just for a coffee and a chat. In his last moments, the man had tried to reason with the petty criminal, trying to get him to see sense. But the thug hadn’t listened; he demanded Ben’s car, and when he had refused... he was shot.
Even in death, he simply looked at his nephew with a weak yet warm smile painted delicately on his lips, holding Pete’s hand as tight as he could. He seemed to accept his fate, greet death with respect and pass... peacefully. “No...” Peter sobbed, his t-shirt soaking from the tears as he rested his forehead upon his Uncle’s body, sobbing loudly.
The crowd watched in silence, watching the way an already orphaned boy lost the most important man in his life. He was a father, a best friend. Their eyes welled with tears and wives held their husbands' arms for support, friends remained close, the neighbourhood mourned for a man who had cared for every single one of them. 
Their hearts ached for Peter Parker. 
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MY 5 TAKEAWAYS FROM THE RZA vs DJ PREMIER BATTLE (ON APRIL 11, 2020)
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Last night saw a historical moment in Hip Hop history as two of the men responsible for producing crating some of the most iconic songs in the previous 25 years, RZA and DJ Premier squared off in a VERZUZ beat battle series live on Instagram. VERZUZ, a friendly competition started by Swizz Beatz and Timbaland where the two men chose 20 of their best songs in the head-to-head competition.
The eyes of the culture focused on a performance that not only showcased the catalogue of these two giants but reminded us why we LOVE this music. And why we love the individuals who created it.
Below I am offering my five takeaways from the proceeding. The comments below are mine, and mine alone.
20 SONGS EACH WAS NOT ENOUGH. These two men could undoubtedly have played another 20 each. Even playing some unreleased tracks would have worked. I am not going to critique their choices, because I do not believe anyone could have pieced together a better arraignment. I just wanted more. The selfish side of me wanted more music.
RZA's BEST WORK WAS  ON ONLY BUILT 4 CUBAN LINX, IRONMAN, & SUPREME CLIENTELE.  We all know RZA is one of the best producers, and his work was unmatched during the 1996-2000 run. During that time, it was evident that his peak production went to Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, Ironman, and Supreme Clientele; three albums that are considered Wu-Tang classics. Three albums from Raekwon and Ghostface Killah Motherless Child, Buck 50, Verbal Intercourse, and Ice Cream; and those are just the songs played during the battle.  That leads me into the next takeaway. 
GHOSTFACE KILLAH IS AN APEX LEVEL EMCEE. The songs that RZA did play from three albums mentioned above contained unforgettable verses from Ghostface Killah, whom I consider to be the best MC in the WTC (Wu-Tang Clan). Who better than Ghost? Nobody. And nobody can craft masterpieces over one of RZA's instrumentals than Tony Starks. Pay homage. 
DJ PREMIER AND RZA ARE FANS OF THE CULTURE. Just seeing the way Premier would react to the selections made by RZA was apparent that he is a real fan of the music. Although last night was a competition, it was clear that he was in it for the love of the art. I also appreciated how both men would talk about their selections or tell stories surrounding them; not only acting as a segway for their next hit but sharing insight with the audience. That was a master-level activity.
HIP-HOP WON. Usually, a battle such as this takes place to declare an undisputed winner. However, when two masters of the art of production are lacing the audience with over 40 CLASSIC beats, there is no way to pick one winner. So who won? Hip-Hop won, that's who. Our culture as a whole was victorious. We returned to the moment when we feel in love with the music. We were taken back to the "Golden Era" when the Wu-Tang swarmed the airwaves; to when DJ Premier not only had Gang Starr handled but provided Nas (NY State of Mind), Biggie Smalls (Kick In The Door), and Jay-Z ( D'Evils) as well.
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thesportssoundoff · 5 years
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A Dumb Draft Exercise
It's a Friday night and we're all locked in so I decided to do something a touch different. I took the current NFL draft order and then looked up the last five NFL drafts (2015-2019) to see who was picked at spots. Using the teams as they stand after one long (and it feels it) week of free agency, I picked ONE player selected at that set position to try and do a retro draft. Each team picked ONE player picked over the last five years at that specific spot (so at 1 overall, you could only draft 1st overall). How different would your favorite team look? Welll.....
1. Cincinnati- QB Kyler Murray (2019)
The first round picks of the past five years consist of four QBs (Jameis Winston, Jared Goff, Baker Mayfield and Murray) alongside premiere edge rusher Myles Garrett. As is often the case with top pick QBs tasked with saving bad franchises, each becomes less and less attractive as the years go by and they hit the ceiling of "damn good but not quite franchise saver" over and over. I went with Murray because while I think Goff is vastly underrated by most fans, Murray's got the ability and personality to drastically change an organization that feels like it's been hankering for a chance over the past five years. Murray was one of the NFL's brightest stars last year and figures to only improve, especially if you put him under the watchful gaze of an offensive guru (of sorts) in Zac Taylor.
2. Washington- DE Nick Bosa (2019)
Was REALLY torn with Carson Wentz and Nick Bosa for the Redskins. There's a lot of dead-ish weight here with Mitch Trubisky and Marcus Mariota and while Saquon may be the best player in theory, no team needs to take a running back in the top 5 (or in the first round at all). Assuming the Redskins are truly comfortable with Dwayne Haskins then taking Nick Bosa and pairing him up in the front four along with the likes of Montez Sweat, Matt Ionidis and Daron Payne would probably be a formidable ass crew.  Basically the Chase Young strategy.
3. Detroit- DE Joey Bosa (2016)
How about the Bosa Bros going back to back! One would assume tht if the Lions wanted a QB, they're GOING to have their pick of the proverbial litter on the back end. After all after Cincy, they'll have Tua, Herbert and Love at their disposal if taking a QB so amuses them. Instead operating under the belief that the Lions feel comfortable with Stafford for MAYBE one more year, it leaves us to choose from Joey Bosa, Solomon Thomas and Dante Fowler. Bosa is likely on his way to a multiple pro bowl career while Thomas may just grade out as average and Fowler is on his third team now. Easy choice if ya ask me.
4. NY Giants- WR Amari Cooper (2015)
The Giants would be picking from a variety of offensive players; two of which are current Dallas Cowboys. You have Amari Cooper, Zeke Elliott, Leonard Fournette on offense and then Denzel Ward at cornerback as pretty much your only other option. Give me Amari Cooper as he'd immediately step in and make an offense consisting of Daniel Jones, Barkley, Golden Tate and a two tight end threat of Evan Engram and Kaden Smith a pretty damn formidable one.
5. Miami- OLB Bradley Chubb (2018)
This WOULD be easy in theory. Cornerback Jalen Ramsey would've been a FINE choice here but the Dolphins have Xavien Howard and Byron Jones on the back end. With Jalen Ramsey out of the picture, you have an interesting linebacker in Devin White, a superb guard in Brandon Scherff and my selection Bradley Chubb. With so much locked in on the defense, Chubb (if healthy) steps in as an immediate premiere pass rusher. Barely edges out Brandon Scherff. BARELY.
6. LA Chargers- OG Quinton Nelson (2018)
Man! The Chargers would have their glut of talent to choose from if they so desired. Want an elite strong safety? Jamal Adams was picked 6th in 2018. Want a QB to groom and develop? Daniel Jones went here in 2019. If you want a flexible havoc inducing DL piece? Leonard Williams in 2015 went 6th overall. Ronnie Stanley is a pretty damn good tackle as well.  Quinton Nelson is a top 3 guard in just two seasons and figures to continue to improve. It's not a premiere position for a lot of people but Nelson bucks the trend.
7. Carolina- QB Josh Allen (2018)
Funny bit? We have two Josh Allens here as Josh Allen from Wyoming and Josh Allen from Kentucky both went 7th overall. Both would be tremendous picks given the Panthers needs (an elite edge or a QB). Deforest Buckner finally hit on his potential and got paid paid for it as well, fitting in interestingly here as a potential flexible front line piece. The Panthers just paid Teddy Bridgewater relatively big time money but if you have the chance to take a really athletic strong armed QB who has shown strides in two seasons, you should do it. Imagine Allen throwing it to the likes of DJ Moore and Christian McCaffery.
8. Arizona- RB Christian McCaffery (2017)
THIS one was hard given the lack of obvious options. Do you need more receiving options? If so TE TJ Hockenson was picked 8th. Christian McCaffery is probably the best player at this spot but again, running backs and top 10s and etc etc etc. Nuke Hopkins, Larry Fitzgerald and Christian Kirk are on paper a superb trio of WRs and you also have Kenyan Drake at RB. Vic Beasley is a good pass rusher who has sort of lost his way as a player (hence the one year prove it deal). Give me McCaffery I guess. I think he'd do wonders in Kingbsury's offense and I suppose you can make he and Drake work together. That's why head coaches get paid.
9. Jacksonville- OT Mike McGlinchey (2018)
There's not a lot of obvious fits for a tanking team like the Jaguars. DT Ed Oliver would be intriguing but I have no idea how he fits in with the Jaguars defense. The likes of Leonard Floyd (recently released), Ereck Flowers (failed tackle turned kinda failed guard), John Ross (oft injured speedster) are other options. Lastly there's Mike McGlinchey who was starting at right tackle for the Super Bowl 49ers. The Jaguars have spent picks at both tackle spots but McGlinchey is better.
10. Cleveland- QB Patrick Mahomes (2017)
Fuck. Would the Browns even with Baker Mayfield flirt with taking Patrick Mahomes? Who cares. Mayfield can be traded. If you have the chance to grab the best QB in the NFL, you do it. Easy peasy.
11. NY Jets- CB Marshon Lattimore (2016)
This one came down to Lattimore or Minkah Fitzpatrick. Fitzpatrick can do so much across a secondary and his swiss army knife toolset was amplified in a Pittsburgh secondary that left to his devices where he could roam free and fuck shit up. On the other hand, Marshon Lattimore represents one of the NFL's rare commodities; a star shutdown cornerback. Plus with Marcus Maye and Jamal Adams tie up the safety spots pretty well.
12. Las Vegas- QB Deshaun Watson (2017)
The Raiders are openly flirtatious with moving on from Derek Carr. Deshaun Watson would step in and be a massive upgrade. There's also not much here either given how 90% of the players are DL and the Raiders have plenty of names and faces they like there. Maxx Crosby, Maliek Collins, John Hankins and Clelin Ferrell to name a few.
13. San Francisco f/IND- OG Laremy Tunsil (2016)
Take the 49ers OL with Joe Staley, Mike McGlinchey and Laken Tomlinson and then slide in Laremy Tunsil at RG. That's an absurd OL. There also weren't many options to really delve into either depending on how you feel about Da'Ron Payne and Vita Vea.
14. Tampa Bay- DE Marcus Davenport (2018)
Pick 14 over the past five years is a bit of a dry spell unfortunately. The best player on the list is DeVante Parker and the Bucs clearly have a collection of damn good WRs. Shaq Barrett and JPP are in place for 2020 but could the Bucs use Davenport as a third rusher and move him inside on pass rush downs. Not a lot of good ideas here unfortunately.
15. Denver- RB Melvin Gordon (2015)
Easy peasy! I mean Denver just signed him! That's a bit of a cheapie but let's keep with it. Gordon fitshere (and nobody else does).
16. Atlanta- LB Tremaine Edmunds (2018)
Edmunds with Deion Jones? Sign me up! The only other option that makes sense here is Marlon Humphrey at corner which would be an equally fine pick.
17. Dallas- S Derwin James (2018)
Given that Arik Armstead and John Allen would be 3-technique types in this defense, it makes sense we would ONCE again look at the safety market! Yay! The Cowboys scheme in 2018 apparently didn't like Derwin James as much as the media thought they did but this is a brand new scheme and a new way to play. Derwin James would edge out Keanu Neal (who BTW when healthy is an amazing safety) by virtue of being more of the chess piece the Cowboys need.
18. Miami f/PIT- C Ryan Kelly (2017)
Again there's a glut of corners here but the Dolphins have their fair share. As such, turn your attention over to a glut of centers---who they also just signed a guy for. Ryan Kelly is a pro bowl center though and you can make exceptions for that.
19. Las Vegas f/CHI- LB Leighton Vander-Esch (2018)
One of the better linebackers in the NFL prior to his neck injury, LVE was a friggin' elite athlete who could still redefine what NFL linebackers look like. His defensive coordinator is there as well (as the DL coach) and I bet Gruden would love his leadership and his ability as an off ball linebacker. This one is easy enough.
20. Jacksonville f/LAR- TE Noah Fant (2019)
The Jaguars are in the midst of a rebuild of sorts but unfortunately there's no immediate building block pieces at 20. It came down to Frank Ragnow (a versatile OL with upside) or Noah Fant and I opted for tight end Noah Fant since Minshew could use a reliable safety blanket. Assuming Fant can control his drops of course.
21. Philadelphia- WR Will Fuller (2016)
The Eagles could REALLY use some targets for Carson Wentz. Last year in clutch games they were relying on JJ Arceaga-Whiteside and Boston Scott for targets outside of their tight ends. Wouldn't have a problem going with FS Darnell Savage either who also went at 21.
22. Minnesota f/BUF- DE Bud Dupree (2015)
I don't know if the Vikings NEED an edge but even if they don't, there's really no options here. Josh Doctson was a flop in Washington, Charles Harris was a flop in Miami, Rashaan Evans plays the same spot as their glut of damn good linebackers and Andre Dillard is an unproven tackle for Philly to this point. Hit or miss here.
23. New England- Isaiah Wynn (2018)
I mean they drafted him here. Easy enough. Although would they take TE Evan Engram all things being equal?
24. New Orleans- WR DJ Moore (2018)
The Saints did grab Emmanuel Sanders but DJ Moore, Sanders and Michael Thomas is a whole different world of WR depth. There's also pretty much nobody else here worthy of snagging either.
25. Minnesota- WR Marquise Brown (2019)
HOLLYWOOD! The Vikings just traded away Stefon Diggs and could use an infusion of playmaker at their WR spot to help assist their TE room, Dalvin Cook and Adam Thielen. Marquise Brown would give Kirk Cousins a souped up version of Jamison Crowder; a WR-3 he relied heavily on in Washington.
26. Miami f/HOU- DE Montez Sweat (2019)
So the Dolphins have signed a lot of DE and we also gave them Bradley Chubb earlier BUT Montez Sweat is going to terrorize the NFL for the next 5-10 years and so he and Chubb combined? That's big time pass rush. Also, again, not much to really select from here either.
27. Seattle- CB Byron Jones (2015)
If you drew up a make and model for a Seahawks DB? It looks like Byron Jones. Byron just got paid big time money by Miami It's Byron vs Tre White and Byron fits the mold a bit better. Could also see Seattle liking Kenny Clark. Lots of good defensive players at 27.
28. Baltimore- OG Laken Tomlinson (2015)
Let Tomlinson battle it out with the interior OL the Ravens have currently. There's really not much here, it's either Tomlinson or DT Jerry Tillery.
29. Tennessee- TE David Njoku (2017)
Funny story, the 2016 1st round pick here was forfeited via deflategate. With just four names to choose from (and not really much to talk about either way), the Titans take David Njoku. Njoku has struggled with his role in Cleveland and the Titans do have some solid tight ends already in place but Njoku would be a pretty nice flier. Most of the guys here at 29 are just not good unless you're a Taven Bryan truther.
30. Green Bay- LB TJ Watt (2017)
And Cowboys fans across the globe shudder in horror. Yes, the Packers have two really good DEs in the Smith brothers. There's nobody else here who comes remotely close to the pure value TJ Watt has. Let him rush from the left side and rack up the sacks. You can figure it out somehow I figure. Let Preston Smith play 3-tech or something!
31. San Francisco- LB Reuben Foster (2017)
On one hand, the less said about Foster the better. On the other, there's really nobody else here who would come close. Unless you're a Germaine Ifedi fan?
32. Kansas City- DT Malcolm Brown (2015)
For any other team in any other league, this is Lamar Jackson. The Chiefs are really set at QB for the next 10-15 years so we'll have to take a pass. Instead Malcolm Brown is pretty much the only other really good value play. Big thumpy 1-tech/nose tackles are usually found later on in the draft but Brown is a good one and the Chiefs truthfully don't need much else either.
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rivevideopromotion · 5 years
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S.l. Mckay Ft- Vado life Goals SL McKay enlists VADO to share some “Life Goals” in new visuals  Semaj Mckay (AkA) S.L. McKay grew up in the Far Rockaway, Queens NY, a place they call the 6th borough. S.L lived in the middle of 6 different projects within a 80 block radius with a crime rate through the roof. As a child growing up, Far Rockaway was a drug infested place. He is the youngest brother of 7 siblings and as a young child he was trying to find a way out of the ghetto and knew money was the key. As he and his family were struggling financially within the crack and poverty era of the 1980’s, he helped his family by packing grocery bags at the local stores and would bring home $25 dollars in loose change and dollar bills. As he grew he listened to rap music such as 2pac, Wutang, Buck Shot, Mob Deep and DMX, It was portrayed that the new error was being a hustler with fast cash, cars and drugs. Selling everything from crack to prostitution which he thought was a fool proof plan. With local gangsters in competition for ownership of drug users and their money, local gangsters would plot on his demise and even talk about killing him in front of his family because they had no idea that was his family. Everyone wanted to know who the guy was from OV (Ocean Village) side trying to take over the block. This lifestyle decision he made would lead him to leveling up on money and power which eventually would lead him to violence. This level-up would cost him 15 plus years of his life in prison. In that 15 years he taught himself discipline, which gave him a better perspective on life and financial (legal) stability. A couple of years prior to his release his sister approached him with the offer to lead a record label in-which he named Alkatraz Music Group LLC. The name was chosen from two reasons. First, in prison they call Far Rockaway Alkatraz because it’s surrounded by water. And 2 it will represent a dead prison in which he can never return to . He made the decision to trust the process and took on the roles of leading artist, CEO and part owner of the company in which wearing three titles drove him to go extra hard. After prison S.L went straight to the studio to start his grind,  and has been grinding ever since. He’s on every platform networking in and has taken giant leaps to begin his new chapter of his life and a legal hustle to legacy.
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luckyluciano2 · 7 years
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NY archery Whitetail hunting is high pressure and high competition for a small amount of public land this is the story of my 4 year quest to kill a mature NY whitetail I called Swamp Donkey….
Swamp Donkey a NY whitetail story
by John Stallone
Author of The Whitetail Hunter’s Blueprint 
http://www.thewhitetailblueprint.com/
  The Back Story:
I was born in NY and lived there till 1991 full time before I moved to Arizona. NY is where I was introduced to hunting, it’s where I learned to hunt, and Long Island is where I first learned to shoot a bow.  As a kid I would spend my summers in NY and come visit for thanksgiving and rifle deer season Upstate almost every year. As I got older and archery became my main method of hunting I began working the small wood lots of eastern Long Island. Year after year I would return in October even after I had a family and children, and it has become our fall break family tradition.
Discovery:
It was a brisk, clear, October morning in 2012 I had gotten up several hours before day light to prepare myself for my first sit in a new stand set. I had been hunting in a 15 arce wood lot that was bordered on east and west sides by swamp, houses to the south and an old abandon junkyard to the north. The Junkyard had a 5 Arce field that the deer loved to feed in every evening. This was the jewel of this little honey hole. All the deer from the surrounding woods would congregate here in the evening allowing me to slip into my stand early in the morning undetected and they would return after day light back to the bedding on the edges and sometimes in the swamps. I had found a hub of converging trails just on the edge of the east swamp littered with buck sign. There were rubs as far as the eye can see down the trail and several scrapes within bow range of my tree. I had set my stand 20 ft up a big oak tree right at the crook of the V that formed where the two main branches shot out of the grand oak’s trunk. It was perfect…
At first light deer started to filter back into the wood lot mostly doe and fawn with a few small bucks. They continued to trickle in till about 8:30am when most of the deer activity seemed to stop. The birds and squirrels kept me occupied for the rest of the morning. Just about the time my stomach was trying to talk me into getting down I heard some movement in the leaves directly behind me. I stood up slowly and peered over my shoulder through the V of the oak and I could see the buck coming down the trail he was an 8 point with a kicker in the 125-130” range. I immediately thought to myself “shooter”. Bucks on long Island don’t typically get to live past 3 years of age there is a wide spread mantra in these parts “Brown is Down” so this buck was a trophy to be had.
The buck was working his rub line and slowly coming my way. He was already in bow range but coming in the only direction that I could not shoot to unless I unhooked my harness and stood up on the seat of the stand to shoot down through the V of the oak. It crossed my mind but I decided to not force it and wait till he came under my tree. He was 10 yards behind me at this point and I was frozen leaning on a limb with bow in hand slight tension on the string not even looking at him for fear he would make me and spook. He was licking a branch with head pointed in my direction when a squirrel decides to jump from the adjacent tree on to the limb that I was leaning against. He looked up and stood there looking through me for what seemed like an eternity. He then slowly turned and walked away back down the trail he came.
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NY Public land Buck
The Game begins:
I was beside myself, I wanted to scream, I drew back on that squirrel and almost let it fly when I reminded myself of the pact I had made several years prior not to shoot anything without a purpose. I sat in disgust for a few more hours. When I got down I immediately phoned my wife told her I had seen a big buck, a “Swamp Donkey” and asked her to change our plane tickets and extend our trip a couple of days. I knew I had to move my stand, that if I left it there every time he came by that tree he would look up. I began looking for another tree to hang my stand further up the trail leading from the swamp.  I found two rub lines that came out of the swamp and down into this drainage and a tree that overlooked both. Plus it was in shooting range of the trail he walked down earlier that morning. I set the stand up high, about 25 feet to be exact in a beech tree, set so I did not need to stand to shoot. This tree would affectionately be called the killing tree over the next couple of years.. I felt good about this set. I spent the next few days sitting morning until night letting lesser bucks and doe slip by me. The last day I woke up to a Nor-Easter moving in which is the north easts version of a monsoon… Everyone told me I was crazy to go sit up in a tree with winds like that.. I didn’t care I had a mission.  I sat from sun up to just about 30 mins before last light before I saw my first deer. It was a doe and she acted like she was being chased by a buck. Could it be? “This early in the season”, I thought to myself. Sure enough emerged the profile of an 8 point buck with a sticker on left side. “It’s him“, I grabbed my bow and began to will the deer to my stand with pointless pleading. It was getting dark and he was running her around in circles through the thick brush outside of bow range, I hit the doe bleat can. With about 3 mins left of light the doe started in my direction and pooped out 20 yards under my stand. I drew back, for what seem like an eternity and waited for him to clear the overhanging tree limbs. The wind was blowing me violently from side to side, I could hardly stay in the stand let alone hold the pin steady. He finally stepped out and I managed to muster up enough strength to hold it all together long enough to send the arrow right in his bread box… That was it! I had done it! I shot Swamp Donkey. I called my cousin to help me track and retrieve the buck. When he arrived we made quick work of the blood trail only to walk up on a buck that was not Swamp Donkey, I had shot a buck possibly a relative, younger brother maybe. I shot a 2.5 year old 115” 8 point with a sticker in the same place off the same tine as the big buck I was now calling Swamp Donkey. My disappointment was equally as evident as my happiness.
The Quest:
I returned home and immediately began pouring over topo maps and google earth. I spent countless hours talking to my cousin Mike who sat the same stand the remainder of the season. Two months had passed and the season was coming to a close I was starting to think that I had imagined Swamp Donkey that the buck I killed was the buck I saw and I just added inches in my head. Mike had not seen him or any big buck for that matter. I was devastated.
It was the last chance that Mike had left to hunt that season he slipped into the stand around 9am a few hours had passed and He was playing on his phone when he caught movement and turned to investigate. It was him, it was Swamp Donkey, he did exist and he was skirting along the swamp edge out of bow range. I immediately got a text “Swamp Donkey Lives”. I felt vindicated; I felt as if I had already shot him, someone else saw him alive and I wasn’t crazy.
Fast forward to next season I brought a camera with me and set it on the main trail, we don’t dare run cameras in NY because they always get stolen or vandalized even in bear boxes, but I had to get more intel. I spent the whole week spending morning till night in the stand. I had not seen hide nor hair of Swamp Donkey at this point so I decided to fill my tag the day before I had to leave on a 120” 3.5 yr old buck. I had shot this buck late in the evening and a little far back so I let him lay overnight. Late the next morning I went in to trail the buck I followed him out of my wood lot and across the road from the junk yard an into a piece of public wetland surround by private. I got permission from the lady who owned the land to track my buck and hunt there if I wanted.  As I’m slinking through the woods quietly, looking down at the blood trail I get this crazy feeling like I was being watched so I looked up and  there he was 40 yards ahead of me on the trail standing over my dead buck as if to say “gotcha again”… All I could do was laugh, no one was gonna believe me. He had grown into 145” buck was building character.
I was scratching my head! How was this deer using the area? After our standoff that morning I watched where he walked into the swamp. I followed him for a ways and starting gathering Intel. All the big rubs and his tracks told me this is where he lived and he just traveled across the street as part of his routine. It dawned on me right then in there how this deer using the area. Both times I had seen him and Mike had seen him were around 10am-12pm and After getting my buck back to the truck I decided to go pull the camera to fortify where my mind was going with this and after viewing the couple hundred pics the very last pic was a very degraded pic of Swamp Donkey in the middle of the night. He was making a loop!
Putting all together:
Like I mentioned earlier I don’t run cameras in NY so figuring out how he was using the landscape was much harder to do, it was based on a few sightings, and reading sign. It’s pretty hard to decipher what buck is making what rub and what scrape and leaving which track but I started to formulate a  hypothesis based on my loop idea on how he was using the area.
In 2014 armed with my hypothesis I called “the loop” I decided to hang a new stand across from where my old stand was (the ridge stand) and after my encounter last year I had hung one off the swamp across the street ( the tree fort). The ridge stand was a morning spot when the wind was bad for the killing tree and the tree fort was for midday and evening hunting only. My plan was to sit the killing tree in the morning and the tree fort in the evening. I came up with this because after my encounter the previous year I had Mike sit the tree fort stand and we quickly learned that the deer were feeding in the oak flat adjacent the swamp in the mornings so you would blow them out when you entered the stand in the morning, thus making it better suited for the evening.
  Two Bucks Two Days:
2014 was a crazy year for me and for our family trip, I had weddings and multiple family events to attend to, so my time to spend hunting was very limited in fact I only had 3 days to hunt. First morning of my hunt I slipped into the killing tree an hour before first light and anxiously waited for what the morning would bring. As usual at day break does and fawns trickled back in the woods followed by young bucks cruising the bedding areas. I got down at 11am because something told me I needed to get up in the tree fort stand before noon. I made the switch and about 1pm I caught movement behind me a buck working a scrape, “Swamp Donkey” I gasped. He was out of range and in a thick tangle of brush. I tried calling to him subtlety, without a response. I didn’t want to push it and have him pick me out of the tree so I changed my focus on trying to film him however my camera arm was not set up that I could get that angle so I quickly grabbed my rangefinder and phone and snapped a pic through it. He had gotten much much bigger and developed a matching kicker. He also had a bad limp and what looked like a scar on his left shoulder. It appeared he had been hit by a car, “the scar patch was too big to be an arrow wound” I thought to myself.
Let me digress for a moment, I know that those of you reading this are going to ask yourselves why would he have done this so let me explain in advance. I have an online TV show called Days in The Wild that I have been producing for the past 12 years I operate on a shoestring budget and an even stricter budget of time. I cannot afford to pass on opportunities to make an episode when presented. Back to my story, the next day went just about the same. I got in the tree fort stand by noon with the hopes of catching Swamp doing his thing midday. It was about 3pm when a buck emerged from swamp 70 yards from my stand and began walking the edge of the oak flat right to me. Now I had learned a trick from a guy many years ago that I kinda modified and made my own, that is to take a rake and fluff up the leaves 20-30 yards to your best shooting lane and shake the overhanging oaks to make as many acorns drop as possible. He told me raking the leaves makes it easier for them to get to and it makes it look like other deer were feeding there. I added my own little twist by spraying buck bombs acorn rage scent in the area as well and this seemed to work very well for me. Now this buck was walking right to my little trap and I couldn’t fight the urge so I decided to take him. He was quartering to me hard so I aimed between the neck and front shoulder he reacted and dropped a bit and I caught the spine dropping him on the spot. After getting him out I decided tomorrow was my last hunt I was going to hold out till dark for Swamp. And I did just that, only at dark a different mature buck stepped out and I decided to shoot him ever mindful of my contractual responsibilities to produce 12 shows a year. Swamp had made it another year.
Stellar Year
2015 was an amazing year for me I had drawn more tags than I ever had in the past one of which was a coveted Ibex tag in the Florida (Flo-reeda) mountains in New Mexico. Consequently this hunt fell during my normal scheduled trip to NY. Moreover the other tags I drew did not afford me the time to go back to NY. So I had to place my hopes of scoring Swamping Donkey on the shoulders of Mike. Mike started a new job and had virtually no time to hunt although we kept in contact watching the moon and weather and picking and choosing the best times to take a day off and other than a fleeting glimpse of him in Nov. our meek efforts proved futile. My season went on to being a stellar season filling 12 of my 15 tags but in the back of my mind he was still out there giving me the proverbial finger.
Redemption
Following such a stellar 2015 I had high hopes for 2016. I started off first of the year shooting a big desert mule deer in my home state followed by a 30” Barbary sheep in New Mexico in February. My son was born in March 2 days before my 40th birthday everything seemed to be going my way…Then 40 hit. It seemed like nothing was going right for me, losing business left and right, just one mishap after another, no time in the off season to practice or scout, and I was getting terribly out of shape. My first few hunts in the early season did not end up as I had planned and I was starting to feel a little bit down on myself. I needed a win. I knew that NY has always been good to me for providing success but I had taken the consolation prize home too many years in a row and I wanted to come home the old busier. Not knowing if Swamp was still alive at this point I didn’t know what to expect. I arrived to NY late in the evening and I had planned to hunt the following afternoon after checking stands and buying my license etc. but something told me to stay out of the tree fort stand and save it for the next day when I could slip in there late morning. I did not hunt the killing tree that morning as I had done in the past but instead I waited till 11am to slip into the tree fort. It had rained the night before and still was drizzling a bit that morning and I knew that meant the bucks would be out freshening up their scrapes mid-day. Walking into the stand I notice a giant rub that looked like an elk had made. The sapling was completely broke over and ripped to pieces. Logic told me “big buck” my heart told me “Swamp lives” filled with anticipation I climbed up into the stand but not before I squirted a little young buck scent into the two scrapes bellow my tree. The wind was blowing hard and steady and was in my face, I felt like something good was going to happen. Before long it was 1:30pm and something told me to check my backside I stood up slowly and peered around the tree and there he was working his way right to me. I knew he was coming to the big scrape, I got the camera set on him and he stopped dead in his tracks and I began to curse the camera under my breath. I thought maybe the sun had reflected off the lens and he had seen it. He stood there motionless for a lifetime flicked his tail and began to limp toward the scrape stopping every few yards to scan his environment. I quickly ranged everything in his path even though I had memorized every inch of my shooting lanes.. It was going to happen I could see it playing out, barring any stupid moves on my part or some act of God “it was coming together” I thought to myself. No sooner did the thought leave my mind he stopped in a place that I could not draw. “Don’t force it john” I told myself “let him go to the scrape”. He began to limp toward the scrape again and as soon as he cleared the lane I drew back, settled the pin and waited for him to pause naturally. He took a couple of steps than hesitated and I squeezed off the release and watched my arrow hit its mark.  I knew what I had done. My knees went weak and I almost fell out of the stand. “ I just killed Swamp Donkey” I murmured to myself as if to make sure I wasn’t dreaming and then again louder “ I  just killed Swamp Donkey”   I could see the blood covered arrow glistening in the sun, so packed my stuff up quickly and got down to investigate the shot site. I walked up to where I shot “dead deer” I thought. Blood trail began immediately at the arrow and continued on straight toward the swamp. I took out my camera and documented the track. Fifty yards later just inside the trail I had followed him into in 2013 there he lay. I walked up to him, knelt beside him for a moment, put my hand on his back and began to feel almost sorry the game had ended. After making the calls, taking my pictures and the excitement settled I began to wonder where the next swamp donkey was and when the new game of chess would begin….
  Be sure to subscribe to my podcast https://interviewswiththemasters.podbean.com/
  [ebook_store ebook_id=”1877″]
    Swamp Donkey John Stallone’s 4 year quest to shoot mature NY whitetail NY archery Whitetail hunting is high pressure and high competition for a small amount of public land this is the story of my 4 year quest to kill a mature NY whitetail I called Swamp Donkey....
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mad-hare · 6 years
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So happy yesterday to have received RIS under judges Johnny Haussener and Daniel Long at yesterday's rare breed show in Auburn, NY. Smaller show than normal of course, but BIS was an awesome Argent Brun.
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This buck, Two Socks Stick to Your Guns, comes from Two Socks Rabbitry Flemish Giants, his mother is Mad Hare's Clairette which we sent down there last year. 😁 yay teamwork.
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Peter and Gwen reality hop back to alt-NY to hang with Miles and continue their spider lessons. As they thwip along, they hear a crash and a scream. Immediately they swing to the scene and find a terrified crowd, a crashed car, and a man wearing a slim power suit with his right arm ending in a upturned bowl shape. Attached to the palm of his hand is an enormous top, overly complicated with nesting layers of construction and serrated blades along the top rim. The three of them land on the street, opposite Topman and penned in by the gathered onlookers.
Topman cackles gleefully. “A trio of bugs for me to squash? None can stop the centrifugal might of Topman!”
Miles puts his dukes up while Gwen drops into a half-crouch, ready to spring. Peter, though, looks around in disbelief.
“It’s.... I’m not the only one who sees it right? Beyblade? It’s a... It’s a giant Beyblade, right? Anyone? Beyblade?”
Gwen raises her eyebrows. “Oh my god.”
“What blade? Do you have this guy in your world?” Miles asks in confusion.
“What?” Peter says, looking at him. “Wait. You have to know Beyblade. Super popular cartoon? It ran for like, twenty years. Fighting tops?” He stops, bewildered as Miles shakes his head. “Gw-spiderwoman? Beyblade?”
Gwen nods. “I didn’t watch it, but my Peter was into it.”
“Beyblade?!” Peter shouts at the crowd. A general murmur of ‘no’ runs through the spectators. “Phone! I need a phone!”
Someone holds a phone up tentatively and Peter hits it with a webline, yanking it back to his hand. He begins furiously Jeevesing, then holds the phone up for Gwen to see. “No result! This.... There’s no Beyblade in this reality!”
“ENOUGH! Cease this blather at once!” shouts Topman, his giant inexplicable beyblade top revving to full speed. Gwen and Miles resume their ready positions but Peter holds out his arm, signalling them to stay back. Alone, he steps into the open road.
With a cackle, Topman released the top. It carves a path through the pavement, heading right for Peter. Peter dodges but the top changes directions to follow. He ducks and jukes, leaping back as he weblines a trashcan, whipping it into the top. The top shreds the can without slowing. Peter leaps, then drops onto the top, leg extended, landing a powerful drop kick. The top bucks wildly, throwing him hard to the ground as it wobbles, then retreats to Topman. The villain locks the top of the top back into his extended arm and starts spinning it back up to speed.
Peter grunts where he lays sprawled on the ground. Shakily, he gets on all fours. 
“How can it be? I’ve come so far. I.... I can’t let him beat me. Not after all the work I’ve done. Not after all the matches I’ve won. This... This can’t be the end!” he says.
Miles furrows his brow in confusion as Gwen rolls her eyes and sighs with exasperation. Topman, not picking up on Peter’s melodrama, laughs and takes aim again.
“No,” Peter says, getting to his feet, fists clenched in defiance. “My real power is the friends I’ve made on the way. As long as they have my back, I can do anything!”
Topman fires the top. It streaks at Peter, who leaps straight up at the last moment. Peter turns upside-down, vertically, as the top races past beneath him. He shoots a line of web, hitting the exact center of the top. The top hits the end of the web leash, straining against it as Peter lands and plants his feet. His grip on the web tightens as he shifts his weight, pulling the line and lifting the top off the ground, sending it flying straight at Topman.
“Let it RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!!!!!!”
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sohypothetically · 6 years
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I do not own The Hunger Games.
Honky Tonk
"This is a bad idea." Katniss Everdeen eyes the outside of Haymitch's Honky Tonk and Tavern with equal parts dread and disgust.
"We're in Texas: open containers of alcohol and large caliber firearms are both totally legal. Everything that's fun here is a bad idea. Come on, Brainless." Johanna Mason, Katniss's college roommate and general rabble-rouser, pries Katniss's fingers from the door handle of her Ford Bronco. When Katniss still won't budge from where she's dug her borrowed red and black cowboy boots into the dirt, Johanna sighs and runs her fingers through her short, spiky, dark hair. She levels a steady stare at her friend – the one who had been with her through thick and thin in college. "Katniss, look. You came here on vacation so that you could really let go of all the bullshit pressure from back home. I know that situation with Gale really fucked you up, but it's resolved now. You really have no excuse but to live up to your promise to me on the phone: cut lose for once in your pathetically sheltered life and come inside."
Katniss eyes her friend's earnest expression skeptically. "You're not going to let up on this, are you?"
"Uh, no. We've already done all the local tourist crap, so you owe me. And I need a little nightlife."
Katniss's sigh originates from somewhere deep. Like her feet. All she wanted was a place to enjoy a quiet beer and the game. Instead, she's dressed up in boots and a mini-skirt so short it's like a Daisy Duke throwback. Jo hadn't even let her wear lucky #92's jersey, claiming that she would have to get a much bigger set of balls to walk into a bar in Jo's hometown wearing it. Glancing at the juxtaposition of timber and neon on the faux-log front of the bar, she no longer thinks her friend was exaggerating. She smooths her palms down her skirt hiding her NY Giants underwear before declaring, "I am not riding the bull."
Jo gleefully claps her hand around her friend's shoulder and snorts. "That's alright. I plan on riding enough of something tonight for the both of us. Now let's go get you so drunk that you forget the Cowboys are the enemy."
Katniss eyes the inside of the tavern, noting the rustic stone and log decor, complete with faux-antlers. When she can't help but notice the four large screen TV's, all showing the Cowboys hosting the Giants at AT&T Stadium, she gives a tiny cheer. Sure, it isn't quite the quiet and relaxed atmosphere she had been hoping for, but at least the game's outcome won't be a mystery. She lets Jo lead her to the bar, threading their way through the throng of jean-clad cowboys sporting big hats, big boots, and big egos.
Jo thumps her fist on the scarred wood that smells of about a billion spilled Budweisers. "Hey, Bartender! Down here!" When he ignores her, she thumps louder. When he still ignores her, she wolf-whistles to get his attention. "Bartender, you've got a fine ass, sure. But pardon me if I don't want to see just your backside tonight."
Katniss nods at Jo's ass-essment: the butt displayed to perfection in dark, western-cut jeans is lean and firm. Just the way Jo likes it. Which is why Katniss almost chokes when the guy straightens to well over six feet and clear, gray eyes underneath the sternest brows she's ever seen clash with Jo's. "Is that so, sweetheart? You think you'd know what to do with all this?" The tall man with the salt and pepper hair gestures to his broad chest and lean hips. All the while, his eyes rove over Jo. "Seems like you'd need a little more experience to handle a seasoned buck like me."
Katniss is horrified on behalf of her friend. Is the old guy flirting with Jo?
Jo gives a husky laugh. "I don't think you need to worry about my experience points, guy. What I lack on that front I can more than make up in creativity."
Those silver eyes glimmer for just a second before a bored look steals over his face. "Oh, I don't doubt that. And now that you have my attention, what can I get for you two ladies?"
"I need six shots of tequila stat in order to keep my friend from running out the door."
The tall man nods, grabs six shot glasses, and places them on the counter.
Jo frowns. "You know what? We'd better make it an even ten." In answer to the dark eyebrow that shoots up nearly to his hairline, she leans forward and puts her hand on his wrist. "That will keep her from running out the door and give her personality a little boost."
The guy shrugs, adding the shot glasses and pouring, then gives her the total.
"Jo, tequila?" Katniss grimaces. "You know what tequila does to me."
Jo grabs her friend in a friendly headlock. With one more wink at the guy behind the counter, she announces to the room, "It makes your clothes fall off, which is sort of the point. Now, drink up!"
-o—
Katniss stares blearily in horrified fascination at the huge dance floor filled to capacity with something she hoped never to see: line dancing. It's clear the sweaty, grinning folks on the dance floor take a lot of pleasure in the stomping, clapping, and pivoting they're doing. Not to mention the fact that everyone seems to know the words to every song. Every song.
Jo sense Katniss's reticence. She bumps her shoulder and asks, "You ready to hit the dance floor, Brainless?"
"What?" Katniss is almost hypnotized by the synchronized movements. She has to pull herself out of her zoned-out state to tune into Jo's words.
"We're going to get out there and get down. Boot scootin' boogie. Shake our groove things."
"No. Jo, they are singing about work clothes, boots, and Brown Chicken Brown Cow. What the hell is that?"
Jo rolls her eyes. "I am not above marching back to the bar and asking them to shut off the game."
"Then I'll watch it on my phone. Besides, I'm not the only one here watching it."
"I can't believe you'd rather watch guys in spandex on TV than guys in tight jeans here." At Katniss's unamused look, Jo tries a different tactic. "See the hottie on the dance floor?"
Katniss plays dumb. "Who?"
Jo heaves an exasperated sigh. "The blond guy with the backwards Longhorns cap on?" At Katniss's blank face, Jo continues, "I figured you would have noticed his ass, which is so tight I bet you could bounce a quarter off of it. Or his abs, which are ribbed for your pleasure. Or those NASCAR hips, which can do two hundred miles per hour for hours on end before driving into the winner's circle. But whatever. Take a look at him, Brainless. And by the way, I know you can see him because your blush right now goes all the way down to your water bra."
Describing her reaction as a blush is putting it mildly: Katniss has spent the last ten minutes with her eyes riveted on the guy in question. It's not that he's gorgeous. He's a little too short and a little too broad for that characterization in today's world of long, lean-limbed beauty, something Katniss knows well at her own diminutive height. His hair is a little too shaggy, with curls tumbling over his forehead and ears and brushing his collar below the backwards brim of the cap. But his smile is killer and his broad shoulders are perfectly displayed in a form-fitting black polo shirt that tapers to a "v" into his 501's. Jo is right about his hips, too. But more than that, he's got presence.
Jo leans closer. "We're going to go out there and give this a try or I'm going to go tell Captain Piston-hips over there that this is your last night in San Antonio and you're getting over your last relationship. Hell, Katniss, that's not even a lie. I'll lay it on him that you're so lonely that you want to personally subscribe to his fine, fine ass's Facebook and Twitter feeds, and that you need a cowboy like him and a long night on the range to help your recovery."
Katniss knows Jo'll do it, too. Frankly, she thinks she's getting off easy, since Jo hasn't threatened to slip him her room key. Yet.
Maybe it's the shots. Or Jo's threats. But forty-five minutes later, Katniss is actually starting to get the hang of it and let loose a little. Sure, she does it mostly by keeping her eyes glued to Captain Piston-hips's feet, but he's fun to watch and his exaggerated, thumping steps make it easy. And if she knows her hips will never pivot like his, she doesn't mind.
What she does mind is how little she's seen of the game. "I'm heading to the bar, you coming?" she shouts over some guy singing about how a girl should shake it on the hood of his tractor.
"I'll be there in a minute. Order me a couple of shots?"
Katniss frowns darkly at her friend, knowing what sort of trouble Jo can get into in sixty seconds. But she makes her way to the bar with a mental shrug. Jo can take care of herself, after all.
"Where's your hot friend?" the bartender asks as he pours a beer for another customer.
"What? Do I need to hit on you in order to get a drink?"
He stops pouring. His drawl is more pronounced and slower, like he's trying to piss her off. "You aren't from around here, are you, Sweetheart?"
Katniss is nothing if not curt in the face of such southern hospitality. "Uh, no. I would have thought that would have been obvious from my accent. Can I have the shots now?"
He looks over her shoulder. "Your friend here's a real charmer, you know that? You weren't kidding about hoping the shots would improve her personality."
"She's a real asset to humanity." Jo winks at the bartender before hoisting herself so she leans over the bar. The old guy now has a pretty clear shot down her shirt. "Don't take it personally."
He glances at her displayed cleavage and answers her wink with a grin that shows off a dimple and drops ten years off his age. "I don't take very much personally. Especially when alcohol can make it all better."
"That's the right spirit. I never got your name, cowboy."
"Haymitch. Nice to meetcha, ma'am."
"OOOH. Like, let's go for a roll in the hay, Haymitch?" Jo pushes her breasts further together in a move designed to at least get them free drinks.
"If that's what pleases you."
Jo's voice drops to a throaty drawl. "Oh, that pleases me, alright."
Katniss's sarcasm breaks the mood. "Excuse me for interrupting. Can we have our drinks now?"
Jo and Haymitch share a sympathetic look before Jo apologizes, "She's a Yankee."
"I can tell. Manners of a slug, all of 'em."
Katniss resists the urge to kick Jo when her friend nods in agreement. Instead, she rolls her eyes and makes her way to the big screen TV so she can watch her team trounce the Cowgirls. Because they will, no doubt about it. She watches the snap and the evil empire – as she likes to think of those douchebags from Dallas – throws long. It's incomplete and she's already snorted loudly at Romo's clear incompetence when the ref calls offsides on the play.
She doesn't even think before she gestures at the screen and yells, "Are you getting blowjobs from The Crypt Keeper to call plays like that, ref? He was behind the line!" A quiet chuckle comes from behind her. She whirls to find the piston-hipped dance floor guy standing behind her, taking a pull from his bottle of Bud while everyone else in the immediate vicinity gapes at her.
Haymitch yells from the bar, "You're a real piece of work, Sweetheart. Aren'tcha?"
There's laughter to go along with her flaming face. To hide her embarrassment, she channels Jo and gives the hot blond a slow once-over from the tips of his ash blond curls, just visible under the ball cap, to his black, scuffed cowboy boots.
"Like what you see?" He seems unaffected and unimpressed.
Katniss scowls. "Not really."
He shrugs, more of a ripple of shoulders that sets off a chain reaction visible through his close-fitting polo: muscles move down his torso to the magic "v" that disappears into his jeans. Katniss feels an answering ripple. She'd rather die than admit it, though. "Well, your friend over there sent me to give you these. She said…let's see…'it's imperative you take them to correct your personality disorder'."
Through the fog of her anger, she registers that he's holding two shot glasses in his left hand. She shoots them in succession, wincing as the sharp burn of the alcohol hits her throat before biting out, "I do not have a personality disorder."
"Ma'am, with all due respect, you're standing in a bar, in Texas, watching the Cowboys play the Giants and you're yelling at the screen like you want the Giants to win. That makes you either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid."
Katniss wants to wipe the half-grin off his adorable, dimpled face. She's offended by that face. How dare he presume to talk to her that way, about her team, in that drawl of his? He's too cute, too confident, too…everything. She weaves on her feet as she points a finger at his chest. "Well, Mr. My-Hips-Don't-Lie, since you seem to know so much about me, which is it? Because football, Giants football, was something I shared with my dad. It got me through his death and my Mom's inability to find a job in our God-forsaken little town, which necessitated me having to work twice as hard so the lights stayed on and we had something to eat. It even got me through a rough patch during preseason when the love of my life and best friend on the whole planet got sick. Really sick. So what if I'm a Giants girl all the way down to my NY Giants thong? Giants football is sacred. It's way more sacred than that douchebag Garrett sucking Romo's tiny cock."
Utter silence descends on the bar area. Katniss can feel her pulse beating in her cheeks and she's sure she looks like a total psycho, especially when she catches site of Blondie's wide, blue eyes. And the hands he's holding, palms up, like he's surrendering.
"I just came to deliver a message," he says.
"Well, message delivered."
He nods at her with a solemn look, touching his index finger to his forehead in salute.
She watches him saunter off, the pit of her belly quivering.
An hour later and it's done: her boys have lost. Lost. Mincey was all over Manning like it was his freaking job or something. And Manning…don't even get her started on his abysmal eighteen completions in thirty three pass attempts. One hundred sixty-three yards. That's just pathetic. She's spent the last hour of her life at a table, bouncing pennies into shot glasses, watching Manning and the Giants offense get their helmets handed to them while all the other patrons treat her like a caged, man-eating tiger. And the worst part? Haymitch at the bar won't give her anything more to drink.
"You're bad for business, Sweetheart," he told her when she asked nicely for two more after Manning's first sack in the second half. "Doesn't matter than your friend has thighs of steel and can ride a bull like she's born for it. You're a mean drunk, so no more for you."
Everyone at the bar witnessed her humiliation. Her fading-buzz, almost-sober humiliation.
"Hey. Mind if I sit down?"
Katniss is so depressed she doesn't even look up. Granted, she doesn't have to: she can spy those scuffed boots from where her head rests on her arm. "Sure. It's not like anyone else's sitting there."
The blond snorts. "Well that's because everyone's huddled at the bar, terrified you're going to go off again. Here. You look like you could use this." He slides a Bud her way. "I'm Peeta, by the way."
The drink makes her raise her head and she looks at him skeptically. "Does Haymitch know you're giving me this?"
He colors slightly and rubs the back of his neck. "I told him I was buying a beer for a pretty girl."
"And he bought that?" She takes a pull from the bottle anyway.
Peeta gapes. "It wasn't a lie."
"Oh." The bottle hits the table with clink. She fiddles with the label for something to do with her suddenly fidgety hands. "Peeta, that's really sweet and everything. But I told you that I'm involved right now."
He nods. "I remember when you announced it at the bar. I just thought… well, you looked like you could use a friend after that. Or maybe some poison to put yourself out of your misery." He gives an exaggerated shudder as he motions to the TV, where the post-game interviews play.
She gives a self-deprecating laugh. "Thanks. I'm Katniss, by the way. So, uh, are you from around here? Since the entire bar knows I'm not."
They laugh together. "My whole family lives here, but I just came into town for a wedding. Rye's my brother and he's marrying that firecracker over there." Peeta points to the bouncy blonde that's hanging on a guy who looks a lot like Peeta. "This is their Jack and Jill bachelor party." Katniss's raised eyebrow earns a chuckle. "I don't even know how I know that term. It must be all the wedding craziness."
"So you're here for the wedding? That sounds like fun."
"Yeah. And to visit some of my friends from high school and college." He tugs the Longhorns cap down over his escaping curls for emphasis. "Honestly, though, I'd much rather hang out with you."
Her self-derision is thick when she asks, "Because I'm such a charmer?"
"Absolutely. You have no idea how taken the whole bar is with you." His dimples flash for a second.
His smile almost makes her forget the Giants' loss. Almost. "Yeah. I'm sure they're all placing bets on whether you make it out of here alive."
They're quiet for a minute before Peeta asks, "So, tell me about your guy?"
Katniss swallows the lump in her throat. "He had some health issues recently. And I…I thought I was going to lose him."
"I'm so sorry. Katniss."
She can tell he's sincere, so she gives him a small smile. "It's alright. Gale's better now – he's making a full recovery. I can't wait to get home to him. He's always been my rock. It's been weird not having him around."
Peeta rubs the back of his neck again before saying quietly, "He's a lucky guy."
Katniss looks around, then hops down from her barstool. "Come on. Let me buy you a beer."
"You don't have to-"
She fixes him with a steely glare. "Where I come from, we don't owe people beers. We even the score by the end of the night."
"Okay."
They make their way over to the bar, where Jo is still flirting with Haymitch. "You two make nice, or what?" Jo asks her friend.
"Yeah. Can you order us another round of beers? And can you watch my phone for a second?"
"Sure." Jo waits until Katniss is beyond earshot. "So, you're not from here, are you? I can tell by your fake-ass accent that you're not, so don't fuck with me. You're from back East somewhere, aren't you?"
Peeta blushes. "I grew up here. The accent comes out when I'm back, and especially when I've been drinking. But yeah, I live in Philadelphia now."
"Philly?" Jo sucks in a whistling breath and practically spits the word. "Jesus, Brainless. That's Eagle territory. Don't tell Everdeen that, or she'll stop talking to you faster than you can say, 'NFL cockblock'. You get me?"
"Thanks for the safety tip, but I don't think it will be necessary: she's in a relationship."
Jo's silent for a moment. "Did she tell you that?"
"She told the whole bar that, remember?"
Jo shakes her head. "Nope. Must have been riding the bull. But she told you about Gale? All about Gale?"
Peeta nods. "Yeah. About how he's been sick, but he's better now." When Jo stares at him and laughs, he frowns darkly. "Look, it's pretty messed up that the love of your friend's life had a brush with death and you're laughing about it-"
She's full-out belly-laughing now. "Stop. STOP! Brainless, I get it. You want to hit that, but she told you that she's into someone else. And you believed her, which is, like, so, so sweet. Frankly, it's amazing that a nice guy like you put up with her frothing-at-the-mouth, rabid Giants fan bullshit. But you did. So maybe you're more than just a nice guy. I'm going to throw you a bone." Johanna fiddles with Katniss's cell phone for a minute before swiveling it so it faces Peeta. "This is Gale."
Peeta stares at the picture of a black Labrador retriever with soulful eyes and a graying muzzle. The next picture is a much more rambunctious, younger version of the same dog leaping off a dock into a lake. And the third one is of Katniss and the dog wearing birthday hats. Katniss has her arms around the dog like he's her lifeline. Peeta pauses for a minute trying to grasp what the pictures mean. "But…that's a dog. She said…"
"She's had him since right before her dad passed away. He's been her closest friend. And he got sick with some kidney issues recently. He almost died before she got him to the vet so they could remove the blockage. So, you see? There's nothing but the fact that you're probably an Eagles fan to get in the way of you drilling her, Texas-style."
Peeta leans back against the bar with his arms bent. It's a casual pose, but it's obvious he's considering everything he's learned. "So, except for the Eagles fan thing – and I'm not admitting that, mind you – you think I have a shot?"
"She talked to you, didn't she? Katniss doesn't talk to very many people. You should consider it a high compliment. Besides, in case you missed out, her eyes were glued to your ass for most of the night. I have you to thank for her even venturing out onto the dance floor. Now, you should probably go see what's taking her so long. It would suck if she passed out or puked before you could do some deep-core drilling." Peeta's halfway to the restroom before Jo calls after him, "Oh, and Casanova? Don't be a total dickhead about this, alright? If you're truly in Philly, you're close enough to bump into her at a game, so be careful. You might do the one-night stand thing, but Kat never does. Not ever. And living in Philly, you're not even that far from her."
Peeta glances towards the restrooms deep in thought.
"You like her, don't you? I mean, more than bar hook-up." Jo rubs her hands together. "That's even better. Why don't you go check out if she needs some water or something? Maybe you can work in some sort of heart to heart confession that will make her look past your glaring faults – no offense – and hone in on your finer points."
"You mean, like my sense of fairness and honesty? I'd never try to take advantage of her without letting her know the score up front."
"Yeah, I figured: you have that earnest and clueless look about you. Not scat! Take your Luke Bryan ass out of here. You're cramping my style."
-o-
He's waiting for her when she comes out of the bathroom. "You alright?"
It looks like she's washed her face in cold water and didn't dry it off all that well. Water droplets hang off her eyelashes and the tip of her nose. She stops short when she sees him leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed. "Why wouldn't I be?" She swings her braid over her shoulder. Peeta can't tell if she's angry or embarrassed, or both.
Peeta shrugs and it does that rippling thing to his abs again. "Your friend thought you might be having a tough time, so I agreed to come check on you. Since I can see I'm not needed, I'll just mosey along…"
"You know, don't you? Jo told you. Well great. Just fucking great." She hustles the two steps to grab onto his arm and blows out a breath. "Wait! Peeta, wait. I'm sorry. That was…rude." She tugs on the end of her braid, and looks at him from under her lashes, amazed that he still looks attractive even as her beer goggles wear off. Against her better judgment, she takes a step closer. "I need you."
Peeta cocks an eyebrow. "You seem to be doing just fine."
Katniss considers him for a minute almost shyly. She shakes her head and steps toward him, reveling in the spicy tang of sweat and beer and something else that unfurls a swirl of desire in her belly. "I'm not. I…I need you."
He swallows at her proximity. "You do?"
She nods and reaches up to touch her lips softly to his.
That's the only invitation Peeta needs to gather her to him and deepen the kiss. Her mouth opens beneath his and he groans with the heat of her against him as their tongues play. He could easily lose himself in her and he knows it. But he also knows that he's got to get control of the situation. He keeps his hands firmly on her waist –no wandering, he reminds himself – and pulls his mouth from hers. "Katniss, I need to tell you something."
"Mmmm?" She runs her leg up the outside of his thigh, pressing even closer to him. Nibbling along his jaw, she moves his hand from the safety of her waist to her butt as she scoots her center right over his.
Fuck. Peeta closes his eyes and drops his head against the wall. She feels amazing. And holy crap, but unless his hands deceive him, she's really wearing a thong. It's probably blue with a small Giants logo. The thought has him even more turned on than he was just a second ago with her pressed against him and grinding. His hands have a mind of their own, cupping her against him before sliding temptingly just to the edge of where she's already wet and swollen. Her lips trace his jaw and lower. When she bites him on the collarbone, he can't resist sliding a finger just past her entrance.
Easy, Peeta. Easy. He finds it in himself to remove his hands and grab hers to stop her from untucking his shirt. "Katniss, wait. Look at me." The sparkle in her eyes almost makes him forget why it's necessary for him to talk to her. Almost. He has to grind his teeth and recite the alphabet backwards, then remind himself of the fact that he doesn't want just quick sex in the back hallway of a honky tonk with this girl. "I need to tell you that….I live in Philadelphia."
The twinkle dims as her eyes widen in shock and surprise. "You can't be-"
"I'm not."
"But you live there." She shoots the accusation at him. As if his entire city is guilty by location.
He nods solemnly. If there's going to be a defining moment for the trust in their relationship, it's this one. "I do. And I like it."
She takes a step away from him as if burned and her brows draw together in a frown he's beginning to find as attractive as the rest of her. "You lied to me."
"I just never mentioned that I live on the East Coast now. You assumed that I was a redneck from here."
"No, instead you're a low-life scumbag from Philly." She whirls on a booted heel and stalks back toward the bar.
Peeta blocks her, desperate. Even angry, she's the most magnificent woman he's ever met. "Look, it's not like I didn't want to live in New Jersey. Buddy Valastro has the bakery market cornered there, though, so I had to pick someplace else."
"Well, that's great for you." She fists her hands on her hips. "Now, get out of my way."
He colors slightly, realizing his bulk is, indeed, blocking the entrance to the restrooms and an audience has gathered. He moves and lets traffic flow around them. When they're past the bulk of humanity, he takes her arm. "Please, hear me out." Katniss huffs and pulls her arm away but holds her ground. "I like you, Katniss. I really do. And I think you like me. Judging from that kiss back there, I think we could have something amazing. Something more than just some hot grinding in the back of a bar. Something real."
He steps away from her a little to give her even more space. He can tell she's not expecting it – the added distance. "I've put my contact info into your phone. And I would really, really like to see you again. I get that you feel…betrayed…by my geography. But you played me with the Gale thing, so I can think we could call it even and maybe start over. I'll give you some time to think it over, ok? But maybe…maybe we could catch a game together or something. Sit on the Giants side. Maybe we could even tailgate before and I can feed you some of my signature cheese buns. I'm gonna head back to my family now. But I'm really glad that I got to meet you."
It feels like punch to the stomach when she makes no move to stop him.
-o—
"Where's Captain Piston-hips? You guys were gone so long I was sure you were already picking out a flat-bottomed pontoon boat and a cabin together." Johanna still sits at the bar when Katniss comes back alone.
Katniss flips the braid over her shoulder, a sure sign she's pissed. "You mean Mr. Cheese Buns? Oh, he had to go back to Philly and make some fucking cheese steaks or something." She shouts down the bar to Haymitch, who promptly ignores her, "Can I please get another drink?"
Johanna finishes munching on a pretzel. "You know, Brainless, you could do worse."
She snorts. "Than an Eagles fan? No, thank you."
"Hear me out, will ya? Christ, you're surly when your boys lose. As I was saying, he's got a job. He's respectful. Did he bang you in the bathroom? No? Then he's a gentleman, too. And he's cute! If he's willing to be flexible with his fan affiliation and put up with your football insanity, he's a catch."
"No. Now, can we please go?"
Jo bites into another pretzel. She doesn't even look contrite when she says, "Yeah, about that. I'm going home with Haymitch here." She shoots the bartender a toothy smile and drops her voice to a stage whisper, "He says he does Pilates and yoga and I want to check out how flexible he is. Plus, he's decided to graciously help me get over my daddy issues."
"Jo, you don't have daddy issues: you have a great relationship with yours."
"I do now. And will you shut up? He'll hear you." Jo shoots another grin his way, which earns her a flip of a shot glass in the air. "Look at those reflexes, Brainless. I hope he's filled his Viagra prescription recently, because I could use a four-hour erection."
"Jo, you're disgusting."
"Stop kink-shaming and take the keys. I'll check in with you tomorrow."
"It's already tomorrow."
"Jesus Fucking Christ, Brainless. Later. I'll check in later."
-o-
Two hours later Katniss is still awake. She left Jo at the bar, as asked. But now her hotel room is quiet. Too quiet. She's hyper-aware of every little sound in the room. Her thoughts keep drifting to the hottie at the bar: he was nice. Plus, he smelled incredible. And that ass could make a host of heavenly angels sing. She had wanted to sink her teeth right into it. Tonight was the first time that she had been into a guy to the point of wanting to jump him in a really long time. Alcohol or no alcohol, there's something about Peeta Mellark that's just remarkably appealing. She has to punch her pillow in frustration over the fact that she could be wrapped around him right this minute if it weren't for her fan-dards.
When her phone dings with an incoming multimedia message, she bolts upright even though it's not Jo's ringtone. She stares at the text part of the message as her phone takes its time downloading the picture.
Peeta Mellark: Hope you got home okay.
She gapes at the picture for a full minute: it's Peeta, in a Giants jersey. A number 92 jersey, to be specific. How did he know Strahan was her favorite player?
Katniss Everdeen: You know that isn't going to butter me up, right?
Peeta Mellark: It's not? Can't blame a guy for trying.
Katniss Everdeen: You could have gotten that jersey anywhere.
Peeta Mellark: I'm wounded. You're very distrusting, you know that? But would an Eagles fan be caught dead wearing this?
Katniss eyes the blinking cursor: Peeta has a point. She knows she wouldn't don an Eagles jersey if the shoe were on the other foot, no matter how hot the guy is.
Katniss Everdeen: No, probably not.
Peeta Mellark: Then you'll allow it if I want to tell you goodnight?
She can’t stop herself from smiling, really. The guy has charm to spare.
Katniss Everdeen: I'll allow it.
There's a pause that makes Katniss nervous. What the hell is he doing?
Peeta Mellark: Um, what if it's in person? Would you allow it, then?
Katniss Everdeen: Where are you?
Peeta Mellark: In the lobby. I don't know your room number or anything.
Katniss Everdeen: You're wearing a Giants jersey in a hotel lobby at 3 am just so you can say goodnight? You're lucky you didn't get your ass kicked.
Peeta Mellark: We say whupped here in Texas. And I guess I was willing to risk it - you just have that effect.
Katniss smiles so widely her cheeks hurt. Peeta's willing to do something crazy like that for her? If he's an Eagles fan, he's the craziest one she's ever met. This guy is definitely worth taking a chance. It takes her another minute to get up the nerve to type what she wants to, but her phone dings before she can hit send.
Peeta Mellark: Don't feel like you have to let me up. There's a big guy here named Bubba who keeps eyeing me like he wants to make me his bitch. I'll be fine. No pressure.
Katniss Everdeen: Room 192. I'll be wearing a matching jersey. And nothing else.
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