#well I drew ram like two weeks ago then added the others | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kate-river · 3 years

Text

Proud to present you “Toussaint’s Finest” - my witcher fic written for the Eskel Big Bang, featuring incredible art from the wonderful @justhereforeskel Enjoy! ;)

Relationship: Eskel/Geralt

Rating: M

Word Count: 9K

Summary:

Eskel is still roaming the Continent. But in recent years the Path has become harder and harder. Eskel has made it a habit to come by Corvo Bianco around vintage and this year's events might change a few things in his life forever.

Read the first chapter below and or the completed fic on AO3.

Check out @justhereforeskel‘s artwork!

Eskel knelt down beside the riverbank. The gravel scrunched under his boots and for a second, his cat-like eyes flashed in the sun. He sighed when he reached into the water and watched as the stream carried away a tiny trail of blood.

The wind rustled in the nearby trees and the witcher, still rubbing his hands clean, turned his gaze southeast. In the distance shimmered the familiar vineyards of the Sansretour valley and the sight of their natural beauty stirred something in his heart.

Behind him though, the monstrous cadaver of a bear lay on the blood-soaked ground. The beast had a ferocious wound on its shoulder and the once so powerful creature seemed shrunken now that its body was lifeless. The most apparent feature of the corpse however, was its missing head. The very same that dangled from Scorpion’s saddle.

When Eskel got up, he was disgusted and sick at the sight. As a witcher he was supposed to kill beasts. But a bear? It had just been another curiosity that had suffered from coming too close to a village.

Eskel sighed as he mounted Scorpion. He strongly felt the need to leave this place; to move on. To get away from a task that he had only been compelled to accept in order not to arrive at Corvo Bianco empty handed.

As Scorpion fell into a powerful gallop, Eskel relaxed into the movement and his thoughts wandered off. A sensation of freedom pulsated through his veins and for a moment his doubts vanished.

A few hours earlier…

“Hey Master witcher, over here!”

A young man dressed in a worn-out leather jerkin waved in Eskel’s direction. His eyes were blown wide and his straightforwardness suggested an urgent matter. Eskel reigned in Scorpion, left the dusty path and took a halt next to the man.

“Master witcher, an evil spirit is roaming the woods.! Two days ago, one of our men was killed – I beg your help! We’re poor country folk, but we will pay!”

You better do, Eskel thought to himself. Although empty, his purse weighed heavy on his conscience. Arriving at Corvo Bianco without money would embarrassing – tolerable still - but heading for a winter at Kaer Morhen penniless would even be dangerous.

Eskel immediately recognized the hostile reactions when they entered a small woodworker’s settlement. Children were hushed and hastily dragged into their homes by their parents. Doors were hurriedly shut and if Eskel would have wanted to see, he would have noticed the people starring and pointing at him behind drawn curtains.

But he had no other choice. For weeks there weren’t any good contracts and a mysterious monster in the woods sounded like something profitable for once.

The young man led Eskel to the biggest hut of the settlement and a sturdy, yet bald man standing underneath the nearby oak tree suddenly stopped his wood carvings. Eskel noticed that the man’s left hand was missing a finger and his expression was anything but welcoming. He gave the younger man a sharp look and then turned to Eskel.

“Master witcher, how can I be of service?”, with a feigned smile he added, “I’m afraid but… we can’t offer children.”

Eskel, already used to this kind of reaction, sighed and looked him straight in the eye, making a dirty brown iris meet his shiny amber one.

“I was told there was a contract.”, he stated slowly, distinctly.

“I fear there must have been a mistake.”

Suddenly the door behind the man opened and a dangerously beautiful mage entered the place. She was dressed in luxurious fabrics and her long black hair nearly reached her waist. The two men bowed before her. But Eskel, weary of the hostile welcome, denied the courtesy.

“What do we have here?” she mockingly asked. “A mutant –created by the most senseless representatives of my guild. You’re a rarity these days, witcher.”

“With all due respect, your guild indeed comprises some senseless individuals, sorceress.”

“Witcher, you have a wicked tongue too. What a pleasure!”

She smiled slyly and gestured him to follow into the hut. He did, but with sharpened senses. Surprisingly the mage, as rude as she had appeared, was straight forward about the monster – beast to be more accurate - and sincerely promised Eskel a reasonable reward.

But when Eskel returned to the woodworker’s settlement with his trophy his doubts returned as well. The village seemed abandoned. Nobody tried to hide and nobody pointed at him. Alarmed he scanned the few huts and carefully pushed Scorpion to move on. Something was wrong and he wasn’t eager to find out what or why.

At a twitch of his medallion Eskel tensed up. The vibration grew stronger while he neared the main hut, but as he was close enough, the sickness he had already felt once today returned. From the old oak tree hang the lifeless body of a young man dressed in a worn-out leather jerkin.

Anger welled up in the witcher’s chest. He tied Scorpion to the old tree and suppressed the need to let out a furious roar. Eskel soundlessly drew his sword – the steal one, as it befitted the monsters he was going to fight. But before he could come any closer, the door of the hut opened. The mage shielded by the poorly armed woodworkers emerged.

She gestured the men to let her through, but the moment she left their shielding ring Eskel’s blade touched her throat.

“One step closer and you’ll be next. What happened to him?”, he barked.

The mage laughed hysterically and answered “Sawyer? He brought a mutant to our village, the poor lad. In these parts people get killed for less.”

At this exact moment, she tried to conjure up a portal, but Eskel was faster. He stunned her hand and instead of a portal a wobbly structure appeared behind him. She screamed angrily and used the few seconds to pull a simple dagger from her boots. In the meantime, her ever so brave protectors advanced, coming for Eskel with raised axes and pitchforks. The witcher growled and parried the blows easily, but the distraction was enough. The mage leapt at him, missing his throat by the fraction of an inch. Eskel roared and suddenly he couldn’t contain his anger. He was a monster? A mutant? Well, then they should have their mutant!

Taking his left hand from the grip of his sword Eskel felt the tingle of magic flow through his hand. His powerful Igni struck the line of woodworkers and chaos broke loose. They screamed trying to shield their burned faces, dropping their weapons in order to stifle the fire on their cloths. The fire caught hold of the hut too and the less wounded men tried to keep it under control.

Meanwhile the mage had prepared to conjure up another portal. But Eskel wouldn’t let her go through with it. With a swift movement he left behind the inexperienced fighters and blocked the mage’s way.

“Go to hell, witcher!”, she gasped out as Eskel launched into an attack. But before his sword could come close to her again the bald man with the missing finger threw himself between them raising a rusty pitchfork. But the witcher’s sword pierced his lung and his last words drowned in a pained gurgling.

Hysterically laughing the mage cried out “A monster slayer! Look around you witcher –are these men monsters to you?”

“Why did you hang the boy?” he panted. He knew he wouldn’t have long until the shock of killing innocent people would settle in. He had to finish this quickly.

The mage’s insane laughter didn’t help. She managed to open the portal and just before she slipped away a precise blow separated her torso from her lower body.

In his rage Eskel turned around and roared. He grabbed the pitchfork of the dying man and went over to the old oak tree. He rammed the pitchfork into the earth just below the hanged man’s corpse.

Scorpion whinnied and Eskel, still half in fight mode, took down the bear’s head from his horse’s saddle.

Wordlessly he impaled it on the pitchfork – leaving an unmistakable sign.

#eskel #geralt of rivia #eskel x geralt #justhereforeskel #ebb

28 notes · View notes

notquitecanon · 4 years

Note

hello! i hope you’re doing well and staying safe!! i was wondering if you could do a imagine/fic where y/n is also in the bau and gets hurt on the job, and spencer is super worried, protective and sweet when they finally find her? thank you so much!! i adore your work and honestly can’t wait to read loads more!! 🥺👉🏻👈🏻🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

This is way longer than I anticipated. Sorry I got a little carried away.

TW: uh, blood, guns, basically if you can’t watch criminal minds, don’t read this??

_____

Everything hurt as you started to come to, confused and out of it. Slowly, you remembered what happened, raising a shaky hand to find warm, sticky blood on your temple where you had been hit. It was hard to keep your eyes open, even the dim lighting of the basement was too much for your throbbing head. Nevertheless, you pried them open and looked around for anything you could use against your attacker- who, at this point, was undoubtedly the unsub.

“I knew filling in for JJ while she was on maternity leave might be a little more dangerous than teaching at the FBI academy, but I didn’t expect to get hit in the head just for showing my badge- I know I retired from the field early, but I used to get a lot farther before someone tried to hit me.” You thought, wincing as you tried to sit up- everything from the neck down was hurting, “What did he push me down the stairs too?”

Finally, you were able to push your self so you sat against the wall- which you tried to ignore the dark red smeared and splattered stains on- as you heard the unsub stomping around upstairs. If you strained you could barely hear him talking to himself, definitely delusional, those are the most dangerous types. Delusional or not, he knew you were FBI (and judging by the sun flitting in through the one, tiny window you’d only been out a couple hours) so it wouldn’t be long before people came looking for you.

Peeling off the blazer you had worn that day, you took a deep breath. You just had to stay alive until they found you.

_______

Meanwhile at the local police station:

Spencer tiredly popped his neck before taking a sip of his coffee (the station hadn’t had Tea and he needed the caffeine), relishing the short mental break before he went back to the board. Morgan was with Lewis going over the latest autopsy results while Rossi interviewed a couple of parents in one of the station’s waiting areas- so the conference room they had taken over was unusually quiet. Not that the genius minded. Those meticulous eyes raked over the map where he’d originally designed the geographic profile, but they’d exhausted every possibility in the area. He glanced over his shoulder at the fresh map where he had been trying to come up with another one, but something didn’t feel right. He knew the original geographic profile was right, they just had to be missing something.

In his peripheral, he saw Hotch slip into the room with a folder in his hand- like Reid, his mind was stuck on something too- a missing person's case. The only person in the whole town who fit their profile went missing five years ago at fifteen. They’d already interviewed the man’s parents, who just explained that he was a troubled individual and slipped away in the night. That didn’t sit well with Hotch, so he sent you back to their house to ask some follow-up questions since they hadn’t been answering their phone- he just forgot to tell Spencer.

Spencer hummed in acknowledgment of his arrival, and Hotch gave him a nod, not even looking up. The doctor tapped a finger on the map of the suburban town they were in, sighing “I feel like we’re missing the one piece of information we need to solve this case.”

“Isn’t that how it always goes, though?” Rossi teased lightly as he sauntered in, the three agents could hear the latest victim’s mother sobbing as she left the precinct. They all grimaced but carried on.

“Yes, but I agree. We’re definitely missing something.” Hotch agreed as Morgan and Lewis rushed into the conference room.

“You’ll never guess what we just found.” Lewis announced as she pulled two evidance bags out of her coat pocket, tossing one to Hotch who shared with Rossi and one to Spencer. The clear bags both contained a stained scrap of paper, but the writing was clear.

“I’m Still Here.” Reid read aloud, throwing Morgan a questioning look.

“These were hidden in the last two victims throats, the ME is reexamining the other victims as we speak.” Morgan clarified, “We only found this because a different ME examined the lastest body.”

Hotch frowned, remember the lackluster medical examiner they first encountered. As the team threw around ideas about this new find, Spencer looked around the room realizing a voice was missing.

“Hey, has anyone seen (Y/N)? I haven’t seen her since she left to revisit the dumpsites.” He asked, not paying attention to Morgan’s teasing. (You and Spencer had been dating for months before you got asked to temporarily join the team, and the team had only found out about it recently. Hotch agreed to let you stay, since your work with them was only temporary and JJ would be back in two weeks anyway.)

Hotch glanced at him, furrowing his eyebrows, “After she did that, I asked her to follow up with the Greys since she was already on that side of town.”

Spencer turned his head to gaze out of the large window at the setting sun, Hotch seemed to follow his line of thought, “That was hours ago, has anyone heard from her?”

The air in the room turned tense as everyone drew up blank, everyone in the room could see the lines of worry and stress tension rapidly appearing in the youngest team member as he left the room. Minutes later, he came back looking even worse, “Guys, her phone is going straight to ‘caller unavailable’”

Hotch pressed a button on the conference rooms phone, near immediately Spencer’s claims were confirmed with a monotonous, “I’m sorry the number you're attempting to reach is unavailable please try again at a later date.”

Morgan was quick to do something similar, switching to speaker as the line connected this time to a bright, cheery voice as Spencer began nervously picking at his fingernails, foot-tapping as she greeted them, “Hello, crime fighters, what can I do for you!”

“Baby girl, we need a location on (Y/N)’s cell phone.” Morgan was quick to cut to the chase, negating their usual banter. Even over the phone, Spencer could feel the hacker’s mood change only confirmed by the immediate clicking of keys followed by muttering.

“Oh, ok, oh no, that’s never good.” She whispered as she worked, “Oh! oh...”

“What is it?” Spencer pressed immediately, almost tripping over a chair leg as if getting closer to the phone would give him answers faster. Rossi tried to comfort him with a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but Reid didn’t even notice it.

“That last transmitted location was 5 hours ago.” She informed them, “Address is on your phones.”

Spencer did the mental math in a fraction of a second, five hours ago was around noon. You’d been missing since noon and he’d just found out? A flash of frustration went through the doctor before melting into an even greater sense of worry- a lot could happen in five hours.

His genius brain was working so fast in a downward spiral of all the terrible possibilities that could happen that he almost didn’t hear Hotch announce, “That’s Mason Grey’s parent’s house, she was there to ask some follow-up questions.”

“The kid that went missing?” Rossi asked as the missing piece clicked in Spencer’s brain.

“I’m still here! What if Mason Grey didn’t go missing, but his parents just hid him. He was showing early symptoms of mental problems, and we’ve seen it before.” Spencer almost shouted. Garcia was still on the line, and announced, “And, the house is in the middle of the kill zone”

“Neither one of the Grey’s showed up to their jobs today or yesterday. That’s not a good sign is it.”

“That kind of isolation could drive someone crazy, especially if they were already mentally ill,” Lewis added. Spencer had already made up his mind, and every minute that they weren’t on their way to you was slowly driving him crazy.

Hotch only thought about it for another minute, “Vests on, we’re leaving in five minutes.”

Spencer was in the car in two.

__________

You could barely see the sun setting through the tiny basement window, but it didn’t bode well as it was your only source of light. Your attempts to explore hadn’t been very fruitful, as once you finally managed to stand up you were made painfully aware that your knee was dislocated. Nevertheless, with a huff you resigned yourself to limp around.

Fruitful or not, you made some discoveries. First, you found the remained peices of your destroyed phone- considering it was in four large pieces you didn’t even attempt to turn it on. Next, you discovered the tiny window was sealed shut so you couldn’t even attempt an escape. Lastly, you found a locked room in corner of the room with an all too familiar rotting smell seeping from under the door. That must be the Grey’s you decided solemnly. The door itself was old and rickety-splintering in some places, even with bad leg you figured you could probably get it open. I could probably use my shoulder and ram it down, bodies or not, there might be a window in there that isn’t sealed.

“Get away from there!”

A shout startled you, and instinctively you ripped your hand off the doorknob you were jiggling. You didn’t have to turn around to know he had a gun, you heard the safety click off. Holding your hands up, you were quiet. With these types of unsubs, it was best to let him call the shots.

“T-turn around.” He demanded so you did, slowly. Greeted with the face you’d only briefly seen earlier before he’d hit you over the head with a bottle. The same face from the missing posters Hotch had shown you. This had to be Mason Grey, the missing teenager from five years ago- he’d be something like 20 years old now. He was using both hands to point a gun-your gun- at you, hands shaking as he glared at you.

Softly speaking, you rose your eyebrows, “Are you Mason?”

He didn’t answer, using the gun to motion you to kneel down. You were already at a disadvantage, and you didn’t like the added weakness of being on the ground.

“You’re FBI.” It was a statement not a question, but you nodded anyway.

“Yes, I am, and my team knows I’m here. If they get here and you’re pointing a gun at me, I promise you, it won’t end well for you.” You informed him, voice stern but not malicious. It was a fact, not a threat.

“What if you’re dead when you get here?” That wasn’t a threat either, a genuine question. Somehow, that was scarier.

“Well, since your parents are behind that door and they’ll connect you to at least five victims? It still won’t end well for you.” You calmly informed him as he moved one of his hands to nibble on his dirty fingernails. His forehead was sweating, eyes darting around, and hair greasy. He was scared.

“You were never missing were you?” You asked quietly, voice soft and sympathetic. His head shook.

“Did your parents make you stay down here?”

This time he nodded, lip wobbling as he took a sharp, deep breath, “I was different and they didn’t want people to know, so they made me stay down here. If I tried to leave, they’d lock me in there. Once they figured out I was leaving at night to go see my girlfriend, they tried to lock me up again. So I locked them in there, to see how bad it was.”

His girlfriend? Mason Grey’s real girlfriend died shortly after he went missing, maybe he saw all his victims as her? But you couldn’t worry about that, towards the end of his explanation his voice turned angry, erratic.

“If the FBI comes here. They’ll lock me up too. You’re gonna lock me up! I DON’T WANT TO BE LOCKED UP AGAIN.” He was yelling, inching closer to you and jabbing the gun towards you. He was distracted, so he didn’t hear the sirens approaching. But you did.

I just have to hold on a little longer.

“Mason, I don’t want to lock you up. If you put the gun down, I can help you. I’ll tell my friends what happened to you and that you cooperated and didn’t hurt me-” You tried promising him, but you were cut off by the sound of squealing breaks in front of the house. Your eyes flicked to the tiny window, it was dusk which allowed you to see red and blue flashing lights.

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” He bellowed, for a moment he clawed both hands into his short greasy hair. Nervously, you strained to hear stomping feet above you. Then you heard the basement door open, and at the top of the stairs, you could see those unmistakeable converse paired with Morgan shouting behind him.

“Mason Grey, FBI.”

Spencer was here. You thought, sighing in relief, but it didn’t last long. You could see their feet, but not them so they definitely couldn’t see you- couldn’t see the gun. A moment too late, you saw Mason erratically wave the gun towards them, towards Spence.

“NO!” You shrieked, jumping up and grabbing his arm as you tackled him. The noise and pain came at the exact moment you hit the ground with him, almost immediately rolling off of him and grasping at the warm, wet, extremely painful wound on your stomach as your eyes screwed shut.

“(Y/N)!” You heard distantly as you tried to bring yourself back to reality, “We need an ambulance!”

You cracked your eyes open to Spencer crouched over you, eyes filled with worry as you brushed the hair off your forehead, behind him Morgan was shoving Mason up the basement stairs, probably rougher than he had to.

Breathing heavily, one of your hands pawed at the source of pain but Spencer instead took it in his, “You’re gonna be ok, you’re going to be just fine.”

You barely nodded, trying to slow your breathing as the genius grabbed the blazer you had discarded earlier. Balling it up, he pressed against the wound to stop the bleeding. You cried out in pain at the sudden pressure reflexively squeezing his hand, Spencer winced, “I know, I know, I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

Everything was hazy after that, you honestly didn’t remember much, just flashes of his face, the EMT’s, him kissing your forehead begging you to stay awake, until finally you were allowed to slip off into a dreamless sleep.

_________

Spencer was sitting in the waiting room, hands still bloody as they clasped tightly. To the untrained eye, it would look like he was praying, but really he was mentally recounting everything he could have done different. I could of asked where she was earlier, I could have snuck behind him instead of letting Morgan announce us, I could of gone with her to the dumpsites so I would have been with her when Hotch asked her to go to the Grey’s home. I could of asked her not to take the job with the BAU. Derek was sitting across from him, watching him carefully and sympathetically. He was the one who had to physically hold him back from following the doctors into the surgery area, besides a whispered apology the younger agent hadn’t said anything to him since the doors closed.

Spencer had ridden in the ambulance with you, while Derek and Hotch took an SUV behind. Rossi and Tara stuck around the Grey house to finish up the case and were still there.

Derek watched as Spencer’s knee bounced faster than he thought was possible, the kid’s fingernails were nubs from being bitten, and Spencer had bitten his lip so much that it had started to bleed. The older agent wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know how. “Kid-”

He started, but was quickly cut off by Hotch striding back into the waiting room- he had left earlier to demand information, “She’s out of surgery. The doctor said that even though it hit an artery, the bullet missed all her organs. She’s going to be fine.”

Derek had never seen Spencer look so relieved, he practically melted back into his chair before bowing his head. Hotch continued, “They’re getting her settled into a room, but I asked them to come get you when she’s allowed, visitors.”

Spencer just nodded allowing his eyes to close as Hotch turned to Morgan, “I’ll call Lewis and Rossi if you’ll tell Garcia.”

Morgan chuckled before agreeing, but all Spencer could think about was that you were going to be ok.

______

Two hours later, Spencer was sitting beside your bed while you dozed- he’d been informed that you would wake up soon and decided that he wouldn’t move until you did. After the team had all come and checked on you (Spencer might be in love with you, but they were all worried as well), Derek had driven Lewis to your hotel to gather your belongings. Rossi and Hotch periodically checked on him but gave him some privacy by waiting in a lounge down the hall.

Absentmindedly thumbing through a well-loved copy of War and Peace (the Russian Translation mind you), in two hours he could have read the book four times over if was actually focussed on it, but he was still struggling through the first half of the book. Every time you so much as sniffed in your sleep, the book was discarded not to mention that he was so caught in thought he wasn’t reading anywhere near his usual 20,000 words per minute. Sighing, he moved his eyes back to the top of the page, forcing his eyes to read the lines he’d long since memorized and mentally translate them to English.

“You look like shit, honey.”

War and Peace clattered to the floor as his head snapped up to meet your eyes. You hadn’t moved much, but he was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. Still a little fuzzy from the anesthesia, you just watched him read trying to ignore how tired and anxious he looked.

Without thinking you trying to sit up, but both the pain and the man next to were quick to convince you to lay back again. Spencer’s touch was gentle (it always was, but more so than usual), like you’d break if he used to much force. That was going to get annoying quickly, but you’d enjoy the doting for the moment.

“H-How long have you been awake?” He asked as he sat back down, scooting the chair so close to the bed that his long legs had his knees pressed to the underside of the bed. You smiled softly.

“Not long, I just opened my eyes and you were muttering Russian under your breath. You only read aloud like that when you're worried.” You answered, smile turning sassy as you played with his fingers- something that always calmed him down. He managed the slightest chuckle.

“Well, when my girlfriend has a GSW, a concussion, and bruised ribs, I get a little anxious.” He nodded, watching your hand in his.

“Don’t forget the dislocated knee,” Hotch announced from the door, getting yours and his attention. Hotch, Tara, Rossi, and Derek (who was holding Garcia up on facetime) were waiting in the hall. You nodded in stride.

“Oh, can’t forget about that. Is that all? Nothing much to worry about then.” You halfway shrugged, but threw a glance to Spencer and squeezed his hand as if to silently promise him, I’m ok.

He just smiled, raising your hand to his lips to press a sweet kiss to your knuckle. Your cheeks reddened, Spencer had never been one for PDA especially in front of the team, so he must have been really worried.

“Derek Morgan, if you don’t hand me to (Y/N) right now, I’m going to scream!” Garcia demanded, bringing your attention back to the team waiting in the door. You sent Spencer another smile before receiving the phone and tuckering in for a long, classic, Garcia ‘i was so worried’ speech.

_______

After an hour of visiting with the team, Hotch decided it was time to let you get your rest. Derek ruffled your hair and teased you on his way out, while Tara only told you to feel better soon (you weren’t offended, Tara seemed lovely, you just weren’t near as close to her yet). As they filed out, Hotch poked his head back in the room.

“We’re needed back at Quantico, but you won’t be cleared for air travel for some time. I contacted JJ, and she’s ready to come in. Once you’re discharged from the hospital, you’ll have to drive back. Reid, if you want it, you’ve already been approved some days off if you’d like to stay here as well.” He paused to smile, “Thanks again for everything you’ve done for the BAU. It’s been a pleasure working with you, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

This time, Spencer’s cheeks turned red as he nodded, only blushing more when Rossi winked as he left, throwing a last remark over his shoulder, “Feel free to take the scenic route, lovebirds.”

With the rest of the team gone, it was quiet, but you didn’t mind. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a bit until Spencer spoke back up, “As much as I loved having you at the BAU, it’ll be nice to not be so worried about you all the time.”

“Yeah, there’s only room for one person getting shot at in this relationship, besides I miss my students.” You giggled, leaning back against the criminally uncomfortable pillows, “Just keep in mind that I feel that worried about you all the time.”

You hummed as he pressed another sweet kiss to your forehead before spouting off a long winded mathematical statistic about getting shot. You half-listened, but the complex math was going over your head, so instead, you just thought about having to go back to your old job. You’d miss the BAU, but you had plenty of stories to tell your students.

Scooting over as far as you could, you patted the newly empty space beside you. Spencer looked skeptical, afraid to hurt you, so you used a tiny bit of guilt-tripping with puppy dog eyes and a quiet, “I’ve been shot and I just want to be near you.”

Reluctantly, he climbed into the tiny bed beside you after slipping out of his shoes. You giggled at the sight of his mismatched socks as he gingerly settled in beside you. He tensed as you moved to lay in the crook of his shoulder but having you so close, he couldn’t help just relax. His long arms reached over and picked his book back up, and as he started to read again he absentmindedly played with the ends of your hair.

“So, what do you think, wanna take the scenic route with me? We just might get lost.” You smiled up at him after his arm finally, tentatively wrapped around you. First, he glanced at your hand, which had reached up to mess with his fingers and then to meet your eyes.

“Is that a promise?” He asked, taking your hand in his, “Because I kind of like the sound of that.”

“Spencer, I’ll always get lost with you.” You promised, deciding against your better judgment to stretch up to kiss him. You didn’t make it all the way to his lips, so you settled on his jaw before he fussed over you to lay back down.

“Well, now that that’s settled.” You whispered voice strained at the light pain in your abdomen after you settled back into a comfortable position beside him and closing your eyes. “Read to me?”

“Always.”

#spencer reid x reader

163 notes · View notes

monstersandmaw · 5 years

Text

Modern orc boy x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

So this idea came up a few days ago, namely that a big boy in a grey suit was spotted, and it sparked the idea for an orc in a suit. I cannot resist an orc in a suit, and wrote this! He was given the name Dragh by the person who sent in the original ask, and I have their permission to post it and tag them now! So, @slashersheadcannoandimagines I hope you enjoy your idea in a story!

This one hasn’t been previewed on my Patreon, unlike literally all other big stories that get posted on here, because it’s for/inspired by someone on here. I realise it’s also been a while since I’ve posted anything. I’ve been in creative hibernation for a while, but I’m slowly emerging. Anyway, here’s 4.5k words of tattooed orc boy, running a sophisticated vineyard! Featuring satyr bestie, a half-orc half-sister, a blue-haired tiefling, a centaur, and a lilac-skinned goblin, all of whom I need to write stories of their own for one day!

___

“So… my friend runs this gorgeous vineyard out in the country, and they do wine tastings and stuff…”

“Yes,” you said slowly, drawing out the vowel and feeling the slow stretch of a smile creep across your lips and light up the corners of your eyes. Tam was always up for an evening of boozing, and honestly, you weren’t exactly one to say no to fun either.

The satyr grinned, knowing he’d got your attention already. “Well, this friend of mine just so happens to be a really big orc…”

You cocked an eyebrow sky wards and folded your arms. “Male orc, by any chance?”

“How did you guess?” Tam grinned cheekily, his curly, nut brown hair quivering as he laughed and shook his head. His thick, knobbly horns curled tightly around his elongated ears, chunky as ram’s horns, and his hooves danced in amusement.

Currently he was wearing little more than a soft grey hoodie, his caprine lower half bare, the end of the hoodie just crinkling up over the white flash of his tail, and though you were a little more covered up, you were dressed in similarly casual clothes, lounging on your sofa with a glass of wine in your hand at the end of a working week.

“So, just why are you telling me about this massive male orc who runs a vineyard?” you asked, letting the pale liquid swirl around the glass in your hand.

Tam chuckled and spoke more normally again, leaning back against the sofa cushions and tucking his relatively big hooves up beside him. “Dragh had some kind of fancy hen party booked in for tomorrow, but they cancelled on him last minute. He’d got everything prepped and ready to go, but the wedding is called off, and they cancelled. They lost their deposit, and instead of just cutting his losses there, he’s invited a small group of us over to enjoy it all instead.”

“That’s very nice of him,” you said, frowning.

“Yeah, well, that’s Dragh,” Tam snorted. “He’s always been one to treat his friends…”

“How come you’ve never introduced me before?” you asked. “I mean, we’ve been best friends since Uni, and you’re only now thinking of taking me along - obviously with the intention of setting me up with this orc, I might add - after all this time?”

Tam’s pretty face split into a wicked grin. “You never asked if I knew any handsome orc boys!” he laughed. “Besides, I thought I was your one and only…”

“Tam,” you said seriously. “You are about as gay as I am straight.”

He took a sip of his wine and then mimed stabbing himself through the heart. “Alas, woe is me,” he mock-wailed. “I am consigned once again to the role of gay best friend…”

You simply raised your eyebrow at him again and took a deep draw of your wine.

“Honestly, it never really came up. Anyway, you were with Tomas for so long…” he said, his gaze flickering towards you at the mention of your ex. “I know him through a friend. You know, Seymour?”

“Tiefling, long blue hair, more graceful than God?”

“That’s the one and only,” he said, starting to speak even more quickly than usual as his excitement mounted. “I’ll tell him you said that. Anyway, yeah, I know Dragh through Seymour, who actually knows Dragh’s half-sister better than he knows Dragh himself, and now you’ll know him through me. You are coming with me tomorrow, right?”

“Am I invited?” you asked.

“I’m inviting you…”

“Does he know?”

“Sweetheart, if anyone deserves a day of boozing in a fancy vineyard, it’s you,” he said, tossing you a meaningful glance. Your last relationship had ended badly, well over three months ago, and you still found yourself lamenting the large, minotaur-sized gap in your life, but you’d moved on as best you could. It hadn’t been right, and both of you had seen it coming. Still, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to end things.

The next morning you picked Tam and Seymour up and drove them about an hour out into the countryside. Rolling, south-facing hills were sparsely dotted with farmhouses, and as the summer sun climbed, you began to relax a little, leaving the stress of the city behind.

Seymour was tall and almost silent, but he allowed Tam to natter away at him in the back seat while you wound the window down and inhaled great lungfuls of the fresh air. Yes, it was nice to be out of the city. Perhaps you did need a change of scene after all. Dammit, Tam was always right…

You’d picked your nicest summer dress, though you remained perhaps a little self conscious about the curve of your hips and the extra weight you’d put on around the middle in the last six months or so. Taking a deep breath, you decided that you weren’t going to let even that dampen your mood, and as you drew up at the main stone gates of the old vineyard, you caught sight of an engraved slate sign set into the warm, golden stone wall of the vineyard. Garlanded at the base with summer meadow flowers, it read: Three Oaks Vineyard, and through the wide mouth of the entrance gateposts, visible on the hill opposite at the end of the snaking, downward sloping drive, you could see the three ancient oaks that gave the land its name.

“It’s gorgeous here,” you murmured as you drew up five minutes later in the gravel courtyard behind the old farmhouse buildings and cut the engine.

“Yup,” Tam giggled, slithering out and shaking the stiffness out of his compact muscles after being crammed in the back of the car for over an hour. Seymour sighed and stretched, rolling his neck out, his long, cobalt blue hair falling down his back in a thick ponytail. They both had hoofed feet, which was less common for tieflings, though Seymour’s legs were more like those of a deer than Tam’s chunky goat legs, and Seymour’s long tail, leonine hung behind him in a graceful curve like a cat’s, as though balancing him perfectly.

You admired your two lovely friends for just a moment before the door to what was clearly the reception area opened and a half-orc stepped out of the former storage and cellars building, and beamed broadly at the three of you.

“Seymour!” she said, spreading her muscular arms wide. She wore a form-fitting, but not obscenely tight, pencil skirt and a pale, loose-fitting, sleeveless blouse that showed off her gorgeous, strong figure just perfectly. Her skin was a pale, almost apple green, and you saw as she approached that she had a smattering of darker green freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her plum coloured lipstick set her other minimal makeup off perfectly, and she threw her arms around the elegant tiefling and drew him into a warm, familiar embrace. “So good to see you. I’m so glad you came.”

He turned and waved a hand to introduce you first, and then he turned back to face her and added, “Shell, I believe you already know Tam.”

“Yeah, we’ve met once or twice,” she said. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m good,” Tam said. “Listen, thanks for letting us take over this failed hen-do or whatever…”

She laughed. “Dragh’s been wanting to do something with just a few friends for a while - this turned out to be the perfect opportunity.”

“So who else is coming?” Tam asked as you all followed her towards the main building, an old French style farmhouse in crumbling sandstone, with sage green shutters flung wide to let in the summer light.

“Maya said she would come,” she said, holding the modern glass door open for you all to file inside. “And Fern too.”

“Perfect,” Tam said, though you knew neither of the names. Seeing this, Tam added with a glance back over his shoulder to you, “Maya is Shell’s girlfriend,” he explained. “A big-ass beautiful centaur, and Fern is a friend of hers, I think?”

The half-orc nodded, but if she said anything after that, you lost it in the white noise that filled your brain at the sight of the orc that was standing in the reception room beyond.

He wore a pale, silver-grey suit, and a white shirt beneath, unbuttoned just enough to be casual without being obscene, and the tattooed black feathers which you could just glimpse beneath his collar made you want to see the full extent of the artwork immediately. His black hair, perhaps unusually for an orc, was buzzed close above his thick, tapering ears, and cut relatively short over the top, though with enough length to create a soft wave that was just begging to have fingers run through it. There was an attractive flash of white that ran from the middle of his widow’s peak and was swept back over his head as well. He was certainly unusual looking in all the best ways.

He smiled as you entered, and approached you with his enormous hand extended. “Welcome,” he smiled. “I’m so glad you all came.”

You shook his hand - though it might have been more accurate to have said that his hand engulfed yours and you watched it disappear while trying not to let yourself groan aloud. His skin was a deeper olive green than his half-sister’s, but there was a similarity to them about the eyes, namely the warm brown colour and the little crinkle at the corner that hinted at mischief and a cracking-good sense of humour. You introduced yourself and said you hoped he didn’t mind you tagging along.

“Mind?” he chuckled, “Quite the contrary, I assure you,” he said. He had a rich, deep, warm bass voice, and a slight, lyrical accent you couldn’t quite place. “Come through, all of you. I’ve got some welcome drinks and nibbles prepared for you already.”

“A man after my own heart,” Tam grinned, elbowing you in the ribs.

The back of the farmhouse had been converted into a beautiful, glass and steel space. The small, intimate restaurant area had perhaps only four or five tables, and a wall of glass overlooked the sloping lawns of the garden and the vineyard beyond. Your feet faltered as you saw the gorgeous scenery beyond, stuffed full of verdant plants, and while the others headed over to the bar, which was made of a huge, vintage wine barrel and a stunning slab of polished heartwood, you stepped over to the window and gazed out, entranced.

A quiet footstep beside you preceded the appearance of the hulking form of Dragh in the periphery of your vision, and you jumped softly and laughed.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Here,” and he held out a glass of sparkling wine in an elegant flute, explaining a little about what it was. He gently chinked his glass against yours, and said quietly, “I’m glad you came along.”

“It’s so beautiful here,” you murmured, and he nodded. “How long have you had the place?”

He took a deep breath and smiled, his conker-brown eyes drifting off towards the sunny horizon. “A long time now,” he said. “I inherited it from parents when I was just eighteen. You can imagine how well a big city orc doing a business degree at university took that…”

You cocked an eyebrow, not wanting to make assumptions.

“Yeah, not well,” he chuckled. “Luckily Shell is older and wiser than me, and I gave her half of the shares of the place, and she took care of it for me til I finished studying. I’ve been working here with her ever since.”

“You’ve clearly put a lot of heart into the place,” you said. Your eyes snagged on a few buildings at the edge of the vineyard, and you nodded at them. “What’s down there?”

He smiled. “Shell’s idea - we needed to diversify a little, so we’ve got guest accommodation too. We do bed and breakfast from Fridays to Mondays.”

“Wow, what a place to stay,” you smiled.

“I’ll show you the cottages on the tour of the grounds in a minute. Come,” he said, stepping back and placing his hand lightly on your back, his huge palm resting politely between your shoulder blades and making you shiver at the warmth of it.

You headed over to the beautiful array of canapes and chatted with the others for a while, but honestly, it was Dragh who held your attention most. You found, interestingly, that his eyes often found their way to your face, and when they did, you found your cheeks heating, but all he would do would be to offer you a gorgeous smile, and continue his conversation politely. Damn though, his shoulders looked incredible in that silvery grey suit, and you could tell his biceps beneath were as solid as stone.

It was only when you realised he was looking at you again, and that everyone else has gone quiet, that you knew you’d zoned out and missed something. “I’m sorry,” you blushed, “I was miles away. What’d I miss?”

Dragh chuckled kindly, eyes twinkling. “I suggested a tour; you ready?”

You nodded, humiliated at your absentminded behaviour, and followed everyone else out into the dry heat of the summer day. Dragh walked beside you as he took you to the various parts of the vineyard, showing you the vines growing, the grapes almost ready for harvesting, and telling you stories of protecting them from late frosts with the help of a local witch in the middle of the night.

You never tired of his beautiful voice and his gentle gestures, and while Seymour and Tam wandered off with Shell to greet the others, you stayed with Dragh in the lower vineyards.

“Let me show you the cottages,” he said. “We redid them not long ago, and I’m really proud of them.”

“Sure, lead the way,” you smiled.

They were indeed gorgeous, with modern, cosy furnishings and white-washed yet warm interiors. Compact log burners promised heat in winter, and the thick stone walls provided welcome shelter from the strong summer sun outside. “I can see why you love them,” you said.

“If you want to stay after today,” he said, “You’re more than welcome. I know said he Seymour was going to drive you back, but if you like, you could stay here and I could drive you tomorrow…”

“Really? But… I… I couldn’t afford to -”

“No,” he laughed, “I wouldn’t ask you to pay for it!” he snorted. “No, I’m offering it to you. My gift.”

“Why?” you blurted, which only made him rumble that deep-chested laugh again.

“Can’t you tell?”

You flushed and he offered you a quiet smile.

“But if it’s too much, I’ll back off. I can be a bit much, I know, but… I like you, and if you go back tonight, I might not get another chance…”

“Chance to what?”

“Flirt with you,” he grinned, his tusks flashing.

“Oh,” and then you began to giggle. “I’m sorry,” you said when he started to look first confused, and then a little hurt. “No, I’m sorry, I’m just… out of practice, clearly. I broke up with my boyfriend about three months ago, and we were together for four years, so… I’m rusty. I’m sorry. I’d like that.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he said, still smiling. “C’mon. You came here to taste wine, not listen to me bumble my way through flirting with you.”

He steered you back up to the main house, where you all spent the remainder of the afternoon lounging around, laughing, chatting, tasting small glasses of incredible wines, and nibbling local cheeses and handmade snacks. Maya joined you with Shell mid-way through the afternoon, her large, fetlocked hooves clopping on the patio as she moved about. Fern turned out to be a waif of a goblin, with thin limbs, pale lilac skin, and enormous ears and eyes. He grinned cheekily at you though and you liked him instantly.

But it was Dragh who held your attention the most. As the sun began to set, Shell started up a barbecue, and you ate and talked until you felt your eyelids beginning to get heavy. Seymour and Tam said they were going to head back, and asked if you were ready to go, but you blushed and said that Dragh had offered you a bed for the night in one of the cottages.

“Oh did he now?” Tam chuckled quietly as you stood at the edge of the ring of firelight on the patio, the central fire pit casting flickering shadows around the gathered group of mellow friends, new and old. “Good.” The short satyr gave you a hug and tugged Seymour away once they’d said their goodnights.

Maya and Shell slipped away not long after, with Fern practically vanishing into the dusk at their heels, leaving just you and Dragh alone.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked as he checked that the barbecue coals were cool enough to leave.

“I did, thank you.”

“Not too much to drink?” he asked, casting you a sideways glance.

You shook your head. “You paced it perfectly,” you smiled. “And that elderflower cordial that Maya brought was beautiful.”

“She brought it for Seymour because he doesn’t drink, and she didn’t want him to feel left out.”

“I was surprised that he came along when I found out he’s t-total…”

Dragh shrugged and then laughed, “There is more to this place than the wine, you know…?”

You tilted your head up, exposing your neck as you gazed at the summer stars above you, and hummed softly. “Mmm, so I see,” you said.

When you looked back at him, he was staring fixedly at your throat. “Gods,” he murmured. “You’re so beautiful…”

Your lips hitched into a nervous smile, and he set down the wineglass he’d been holding in one hand, and rose gracefully to come and tower over you. He leaned in close, giving you every opportunity to back away or ask him to stop, but when you did nothing but gaze up into his endlessly warm eyes, he closed the distance between you and pressed a kiss to your lips.

He tasted of wine, but then again so did you, and he slid his fingers around to the back of your neck and cupped your head as he kissed you, his eyelids fluttering shut. His lips were firm and confident, but the kiss ended all too soon as he pulled himself upright. He held out his hand to you, and you slid eagerly enough off the wall where you’d been perched, letting him pull you to your feet.

He walked you back down the slope towards the cottage, and at the door he hesitated. He was still wearing that beautiful suit, and you licked your lips as you stepped over the threshold and turned back to face him. “You coming in?” you asked, and he waited just long enough for you to smile again before following you inside.

Dragh nudged you gently against the wall as he kissed you again, his hands roving over your body, savouring the softness of you and moaning beneath the kisses. He shifted his attention and began to kiss down your neck, his tusks digging in almost painfully as he mouthed gently at you.

His hips rocked against yours and you felt how hard he was getting the longer he lavished attention on you. His breath left his lungs in uneven rasps, and he set his hands on your hips and drew back a little to look at you. His pupils were blown wide and he stared at you with glassy eyes. “Tell me you want this,” he growled. “If you don’t want it, I’ll stop, but if I keep going much longer, I might not be able to…” His ears shifted slightly, not being as expressive as a goblin or elf’s, but still showing a little of his uncertainty.

You reached your hand for his rough, if shaven, jawline and caressed his cheek with your thumb. He purred another growl into the quiet space between you, his eyes rolling closed with a groan.

“I want this,” you whispered.

He lost no time in herding you into the bedroom and pressing you down into the bed. He sloughed off his jacket and tossed it over a chair, and you felt the breath leave your chest at the sight of his taut body beneath. Muscles strained attractively against the fabric of his shirt, and as he smiled almost shyly at you, he began to unbutton the shirt. Frustrated, he pulled it over his head, and you gasped audibly when you saw the tattoos beneath.

A massive gryphon stretched from his left pec, over his shoulder, and its inky wings came to rest halfway down his forearms.

“Wow,” you murmured, and he smiled.

“You like it?”

“Yeah. It must have hurt like a bitch though,” you said, glimpsing the ink on his waist too where the gryphon’s taloned hind feet finished. “Turn around?” you asked, and he did, looking back at you over his colossal shoulder, watching you admiring him.

“That’s a sight I could get used to,” he rumbled softly.

“What?” you asked, shuffling up the bed as he turned back around and came to lie down beside you, trailing his fingertips up your leg and making you shiver with a touch light as a spider’s shadow.

Dragh smiled, a slow, lazy, adoring smile, and you bit your lip. “I could get used to you looking at me like that,” he clarified.

“I don’t think I would ever get used to the sight of you though,” you rasped. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, laughing a deep and genuine laugh. “I work hard…” he went on, kissing your shoulder almost affectionately. “Most folks think orcs are just born looking like this, and yeah,” he added, causally sliding his huge hand beneath the fabric of your dress and enveloping your entire thigh in his grasp, “We have it easier than most do, but…” he parted your legs with a gentle gesture, and you just lay back and let him, finding it hard to concentrate on what he was saying now. “But I do take care of myself.” He lowered his lips to your inner thigh and kissed you. “Let me take care of you now…?” he asked.

You gasped as his tusks dug into your thick thighs, and your head lolled backwards as pleasure swept over your whole body, sliding beneath your skin and setting every inch of you tingling. “Yes!” you whispered, breathing hard.

He had you naked in a matter of seconds, laying you back down tenderly and gazing at you until you nearly barked at him to stop staring. He leaned forwards and cupped your breast in his hand and kneaded it gently, moving his mouth to your nipple and kissing, sucking, and tugging on it until you were almost in tears from how good it felt.

Dragh ran both his hands down your body, leaving your nipples cold and overly sensitive in the cool air of the bedroom, and he sank his flat, orcish nose to your sex and nudged against your throbbing clit before lapping over you with his thick tongue. The sound that escaped him as he tasted you was like no sound you’d ever heard before, and as he returned his attentions to your wet folds, he made it again and again. He circled you and laved his tongue up and down over you until you were giddy and breathless, begging for more.

“Please,” you gasped.

“You want me inside you?” he asked, and you risked a glance down to see just how big he was as he sat up a moment. When you nodded, he grinned. “Gimme a second then.” You turned your head to watch as he drew out a condom and ripped into it. He rolled it slowly down his weeping, thick length, and you groaned as you watched him handling himself. He was huge, as most orcs apparently were, with a thick vein running along the length, and as he turned back to face you, he grinned. “Ready?”

An inarticulate grunt and a nod were all you could manage, but he smiled and lined himself up, rocking his hips teasingly back and forth to stretch you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit until you thought you might just come from that alone. Almost, but not quite.

“Please,” you hissed, and he smiled.

“You tell me to stop if I’m too much, ok?” he crooned, bracing one hand beside your head and sliding himself into you. He stretched you gloriously wide, but he didn’t know you’d been in a relationship with a minotaur before this, and were more than used to taking a big cock. Even so, the feel of him left you gasping. “Oh gods, you’re perfect,” he crooned suddenly as he sank all the way in, hilt deep. The girth of his cock stretched you until you thought you might break, but when you bucked upwards into him, he took it as a sign that you were ready, and he began to move his hips again.

He picked up a steady rhythm, growling and grunting with pleasure as his cock filled you and you clenched tightly around him. He shifted his thumb to your clit and stroked you in time with his thrusts, feeling you tightening around him with each pounding heartbeat, until you grabbed his muscular neck and came hard, waves of sparking pleasure sweeping through you.

You came so hard you drew his own orgasm from him, and he emptied into you a moment later with a bellow and a roar that left your ears ringing. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his consonants slurring, his eyelids heavy with pleasure as he tried to look at you through the daze of his orgasm. “Is this real?” he added a moment later.

You laughed, and he withdrew, rolling onto his back and sorting himself out while you lay there and let your eyes drift closed for a moment. Deep contentment washed through you, and you took a steadying breath. You felt him leave to slip into the bathroom, but were barely aware of him returning. The mattress dipped as he sat on the edge and laid his hand on your thigh. He murmured your name, and you opened your eyes groggily to see him sitting there, now wearing his tight, black boxer briefs again.

“You want me to go?” he asked in a whisper.

You shook your head, and he smiled, climbing into bed beside you and pulling the sheets over both of you.

You drifted off to sleep not long after that, with his body pressed tightly around yours.

___________________________

#orc #male orc #exophilia #orc x reader #male orc x female reader #female reader

1K notes · View notes

hotsexydorks · 6 years

Note

PLEASE power BOTTOM SHERIFF 1. With stiles 2. With derek In different situations with extreme debauchery and stiles and derek with large dicks

Gonna make this one prompt but span it over the two boys

He’s Not Here : Sheriff/Stiles & Sheriff/Derek

John bounced on the two cocks that were below him, aimed at his cock and filling him up. After everything that happened he needed either two average sized cocks or large cocks to fuck his slutty hole. His hands slowly stroked the cocks of the men near him and his mouth worked on another male’s balls. His body already covered in cum the cocks in his hands just added to the growing glaze of cum that was sprayed on his body.

His ass was squeezed at the two cocks. “Come on give Sheriff your cum!” He moaned slamming his ass down seeing stars from how good it felt. If it hadn’t been for those two he would be just living a normal life and bouncing on all the cocks he could get his slutty body on.

It started with Stiles and his own mischievousness because of course it did, it was Stiles after all.

~~~

Street light filtered into his room from the outside, it was dark and quiet nothing around the house but the almost silent sounds of the night. Stiles sat at his desk looking at the vial on his desk, he was debating what he should do. It wasn’t right, this wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be in possession of this , he shouldn’t want to bang his father like a two dollar whore. But he was in possession of it and he did.

Stiles had seen a random ad come into his email. ‘Make your dirtiest secrets come true.’ He rolled his eyes when he saw it first and just pushed it away leaving it alone, it wasn’t until a night alone where he was looking for more porn to jerk off to that he thought about what the email said. Surely it had to be some scam. He thought it was, it had to be.

But whatever it was, it interested him. Stiles opened the email and it brought him to an site that bounced through different servers and landed him there. If there was something that would let him play out the fantasy or something similar to ramming his father’s juicy ass he was willing to try it, maybe he’d be able to put it aside and forget about it.

When the site was saying it would give him the desires he shook his head and closed it. He went back to jerking off to his favourite Daddy porn, watching built men close to his father getting railed and bent over every surface in their set and begging for more.

Stiles didn’t go slow, his hand was like a flurry of movement and soon his cock shot its load over his chest and left him panting.

And now? Now he was sitting patiently weighing up his chances. It would make him not only a horrible son but a horrible person. In the vial was a liquid that was untraceable and undetectable, it would make the drinker fall asleep and would make all of Stiles’ dreams come true.

The unmistakable sound of a squad car drove into the driveway and Stiles knew that his time was up. It was now or never, he needed to choose.

John walked into the house undoing his uniform slightly with each step. He was tired and after a long day was sure that his sweat was noticeable from even the bed rooms.

He was surprised to see the light in the kitchen on and then surprised even more to see his son sitting in the kitchen with John’s night cap already poured out for him.

“Hey Dad, I was up so I thought I might as well get it poured out for you.” He turned back to his father after putting the bottle back into the cabinet.

“Thanks Son.” John smiled at his son and took a swig of the drink. He immediately felt the tiredness hit him and he blinked his eyes trying to regain his sense of self.

“Why don’t you go up? I’ll clean up down here.” Stiles told his father leading him to his bed. Stiles had made his choice and was dealing with a hard time of hiding his cock from the man.

When Stiles ventured up to his father’s room he found the man laid across the bed. His clothes not even taken off, he had passed out and lay face down on the mattress. He pushes the body , speaks to his father and there’s no response. It isn’t until he starts to touch the male’s ass does he get something. But what he got was not what Stiles expected.

Stiles didn’t know any history of his father’s sexual history like a good son shouldn’t but he had never imagined that he’d hear his father moan with having his ass fondled. He moved quickly, tying the male’s arms to the head board Stiles spread his father’s legs and tied them in a similar fashion making the man’s ass stick up and his legs stay in the air.

Stiles threw his clothes off and took one last look at his sleeping father before he moved down breathing in his scent, his sweat and musk. Nose pressed deep into his father’s pit and moaning while he jerked his cock off. More,deeper,dirtier. Stiles own voice and fantasy was pulling him to defile his father even more.

The scent was intoxicating and yet so right. He tore a hole in his father’s pants exposing his fat ass that Stiles watched. It jiggled and moved but wasn’t flimsy, it was dusted in hair and his muscles showed through it. Just between the cheeks was his hole, just waiting for Stiles.

He barely had the patience to rim his father’s hole, instead Stiles shoved his leaking cock against the Sheriff’s hole. “Fuck. Sorry Daddy, I’m going fuck your ass.” John’s body resisted the younger males larger cock and but didn’t stir much.

“hmmmm maybe.” Stiles looked down and spat on his cock against John’s hole, letting globs of spit fall from his lips down to the hole getting it wet. He pushed forward and Stiles managed to breach his father’s ass with his cock for the first time.

“Fuckkk Daddy!!!” He groaned leaning down putting his weight over his father’s body. Stiles’ cock drew back and he started to fuck the man’s ass. “So tight Daddy, your pussy is so good”

John lay asleep or it was as close as he could get, his body knocked out but all the sensations going straight to his head. His cock even being rock hard. He thought he was in some weird dream state and that his body was just experiencing different things from fatigue but when he opened his eyes it was something else.

“Stiles!?” John could see his son standing at the end of his body a massive cock pointed upward and wet, leaking, hard, and throbbing. Then it was gone, it was shoved harshly into his hole. John screamed his mouth open and eyes tightening through it. “Hnnnanahhgh”

“Sorry Daddy your pussy is just too good I can’t stop!!!” Stiles groaned back his body pushing under John’s ass and making his ass jut out more.

He struggled and his face was going red and tears forming in his eyes from what he thought was the humiliation and pain. But what they really were was how good it felt. Stiles’s cock, his own son’s cock pistoning through his ass.

John thrashed and screamed against Stiles’ fucking but this only made his ass tighter on Stiles’ cock. Stiles pushed his hands out and pressed them against John’s chest keeping him down. “Keep screaming for me Daddy!!!” Stiles fucked John as he continued to struggle it only making it more enjoyable and his cock harder.

“Fuck!!!!” John’s eyes grew wide, he knew what was coming. Stiles’ cock throbbed and he started to pump shot after shot of cum into John’s hole. The Sheriff himself was even cumming, for first time in months his load was covering his uniform and covering his face. He couldn’t believe it, he liked it, loved it and wanted more.

Stiles pulled his cock and watched the load seep from the gaping hole.

“hhhmmm p-please S-stiles!! fuck m-my pussy more.. f-fill me up and fuck my pussy more!!!” John weakly said his ass winking and playing with the cum Stiles had left in him.

Stiles smiled and put his half hard cock in John’s ass and started to fuck his father again, just as brutally.

~~~

John found a note in his jacket pocket one day, it read. ‘If you want to experience even better sex than just his cock come visit me.’ By know John had been getting fucked by Stiles for weeks, his own son’s cock ramming his hole and turning him into a slut. If this was a few weeks ago he would have looked at the note and tried to find who ever left it there but now he wanted more nothing more than follow it.

He texted the number and made arrangements, John drove to an abandoned warehouse and did as he was told. Parking on the other side of the lots he stripped naked and walked to the location. When he got there he got on his knees and put his hands behind his head. His cock was already rock hard thinking about this. He wanted more and he was hooked.

Derek watched John from the shadows and watched John wait patiently like a good boy before he revealed himself.

“Hello Sheriff.”

“D…Derek?” John asked him swallowing hoping that this wasn’t a prank.

“Did you do what I told you to?” Derek raised his eyebrow watching John’s body start to sweat under the pressure he felt.

His head nodded and John turned around to show his plugged ass to Derek. In his used hole was a clear plug that he had found was the perfect fit after Stiles ruined his hole each other with his cock and filled it with his cum. He got on all fours and pushed his ass out the act making him harder. The clear plug allowed Derek to see into John’s abused hole and the cum Stiles had left there.

“Good.” He walked in front of the older man and pulled down his pants to reveal his cock. John gasped audibly and licked his lips, his ass shaking and almost orgasming just from that. John considered himself decently sized but after his son he realised his son beat him by inches on both girth and length. Looking at Derek’s cock he guessed that his beat Stiles by at least 2 inches.

“If.. … “ John blushed his face read, limbs shaking his arms almost giving out under his weight. He wanted to say that his ass would be completely ruined after this but he didn’t really care. “Put it in me!! Fuck my pussy Derek!” John dropped his chest and pushed his ass into the air spreading his legs and preparing himself.

“Good cock whore.” Derek smirked and pulled the plug from John’s ass, using the previous loads as lube he lined his cock up and plunged his cock in to John’s hole.

The stretch burned and made John yell again, shouting and screaming he felt like it was his first time again. Derek’s cock so big that he was still a virgin compared to his cock. “Augggh!!” He was pleading with the man, not to stop but for more.

Derek pounded John’s hole for hours, his cock making short work of the male’s tightness. He loaded John’s ass with loads of his own and made sure that John was truly broken. “Broken whore.”

Derek’s laughter rang through John’s ears, the male smiling dumbly and broken from the cock. His ass red and raw from the wolf’s fucking. He moaned and slumped down, falling flat against the floor he drooled and landed in the pool of cum that had collected underneath him.

A hand moved to John’s hole pulling at the gaping walls. “Hmm might need to plug you up on my arm and carry you around like this. Your pussy is broken just like your mind.”

John’s soft cock twitched and he added more cum into the puddle he was lying in his entire body shaking hoping Derek wasn’t joking about that.

Derek chuckled and reminded himself to see who else he could corrupt through the fake site he set up.

#sashaholic27 #Sheriff #Stiles #Derek #scribbles #Story Sunday

19 notes · View notes

ayma-nidiot · 4 years

Text

In the White Light - Prideshipping fic Chapter 7

Also on AO3.

Chapter 7 – I’ll Soar Away

As shocked as he was, Yami Yugi allowed Kaiba to let him go, instead of trying to break free of his hold. “Kaiba… What is the meaning of this?”

“Dammit, are you as dumb as that shorter Yugi? Never before has someone told me that a game could be fun. Never before has someone provided me with a worthy challenge! Can’t you see, Pharaoh? I’m in love with you!”

“You… are?”

“Why are you surprised? Don’t you remember that time?”

“Oh!” Luckily, Yami Yugi wasn’t so dense as to have forgotten about the time travel to ancient Egypt.

“You would do all of that for me… Tell me, Pharaoh, do you feel the same?”

“Kaiba…” Between that kiss and this question, Yami Yugi’s mind was in such a fog that he couldn’t formulate an answer.

“Hey, what gives?” Joey interrupted. “Don’t put Yug on the spot like that! You know, you’ve always creeped me out because you’re way too rich for someone your age. Now you’re hitting on my best friend? Well, sort of my best friend.”

“Yeah. Don’t you think we have bigger things to worry about… Like, avoiding all of these monsters, for instance?” Téa added. “We just got done dealing with the Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon, and we need to move!”

Wanting to avoid the topic of his dragon form, Kaiba replied in his usual grumpy manner, “Yeah, I know that!”

Just then, a familiar German voice called out from afar, “Mr. Kaiba! Mokuba! Are you guys hurt?”

“Roland! No, we’re fine,” Mokuba replied.

“That’s good, but I bring terrible news… The KaibaCorp building has been taken over by and monsters!”

“Great, more monsters…” Kaiba wasn’t too ecstatic to go back out there after what he had just gone through – unless, of course, it was in the name of his company.

“I’ve got a chopper ready for you and your… acquaintances, sir.”

“Thank you, Roland.” As everyone boarded this chopper, Kaiba spoke, “But may I remind you that I’m not your boss anymore?”

“Nonsense!” Another KaibaCorp employee answered. “We’re with you through the end.”

“See, Seto? We’re all here to support you?” Mokuba smiled as the chopper took off.

After an hour of awkward silence, Kaiba finally spoke up, “So let me guess. It’s Dartz, isn’t it?”

“Correct, sir. We’ve already dispatched a research team at the museum to decipher some tablets. We can learn even more about our enemy this way.”

Could have done that a week ago…

“I regret to inform you that Dartz has bought out all of KaibaCorp’s shares, too. They’ve hacked into your account as well as the building.”

“Well, that’s nothing I can’t handle.” Kaiba could tell the chopper was close to their destination. “As the former president, I am really the only one who needs to go in there. But just out of curiosity, is anyone coming?”

“I will, Seto!”

“Mokuba, no. You’ve been through enough danger for one day. Stay with Joey and the others, where it’s safe.”

“Uh… I guess… Téa, Joey, Mokuba, and I will go find the cops,” Tristan affirmed.

“So you guys are so creeped out by me kissing Yugi that you don’t want to be anywhere near me? Is that it?”

It was then that Yami Yugi spoke up and said, “I’ll go with you.”

Kaiba tried not to show his inner joy at this news as everyone exited the chopper, faced unexpectedly with Duke Devlin and two strangers.

“Professor! Rebecca! Duke!” Téa greeted these strangers. “It’s good to see you’re well!”

“Eh?” Kaiba only needed to take one look at the little girl, Rebecca, to decide he didn’t like her. “This isn’t a field trip, kid. You need to go home and take care of your grandpa.”

“Looks can be deceiving, Kaiba.” Rebecca pushed up her glasses. “If you’re going to retake KaibaCorp, then you’re going to need someone who can hack the computers. Someone like Grandpa and I.”

“Fine, then. I suppose you could tag along, kid.” Kaiba turned around as Yami Yugi went after him.

“I’m not a kid!” Rebecca and her grandfather followed suit. “Why don’t you try showing a little more gratitude for those of us sticking our butts out here for you!”

“Yeah, whatever.” The four soon arrived at two trap doors with ladders. “You need to take that trap door over there to get to the control room. Yugi and I will go this way.”

“Right! You’re going to be glad I ‘tagged along’ for this ‘field trip!’” With that, both Rebecca and her grandfather had taken off.

Though he was now alone with Yami Yugi, Kaiba didn’t let the events of a few hours prior cloud his judgment. “Try to keep up, Yugi,” he dared as he led the pharaoh down the other trap door and started running when they reached the floor.

“Keep up? To where?”

“This here is a shortcut to my central computer, designed for emergencies. Dartz shouldn’t have been able to disable it.” Kaiba explained when they reached the door to an elevator, and used his card key to open it. “See? Now come in.”

Yami Yugi had no qualms about entering the elevator, but as it started up, he couldn’t look Kaiba in the eye.

Ugh, this tension is killing me. Though the elevator ride was short, Kaiba didn’t exactly feel comfortable in this situation either. “So, um… Thanks for doing this for me, even though you could be doing your time travel thing instead.”

“Sadly, as things are right now, I can’t just leave the modern world as it is. My selfish wishes are nothing compared to what people of this time are going through.”

“Such a desire to fight for what you believe in… How gorgeous.”

Hearing such kind words, Yami Yugi could finally look at Kaiba again. Before he could say anything, a one-eyed furry monster dug a hole through the ceiling of the elevator and then through the elevator doors.

“What in the fu- No, it doesn’t matter what that was; we’re getting off here and now,” Kaiba asserted, ramming his Duel Disk into the elevator buttons. “Let’s go! Help me get these doors open!”

Even though the elevators were now broken, prying the doors proved to be easy; however, the new task of traversing the monsters that appeared wouldn’t be.

“They all have a weird green symbol on their heads… Yugi, what does this mean?”

“It means that these are real monsters, not holograms of yours.”

That’s what I was afraid of… Kaiba gulped. Only this time, I have to face these monsters as a human. “These can’t be real monsters! You’re no better than the lunatics who took over KaibaCorp.”

“Oh, they are. I don’t know how, but monsters from a different universe have found their way into our world. Do you have any better ideas, besides my ‘superstitious bullshit’ ideas?”

“I think you’ve gone batshit, but this isn’t the best time to argue.”

“We’ve got nothing to lose!” Yami Yugi proclaimed, getting his Duel Disk ready for battle and prompting Kaiba to do the same. “Let’s go, Kaiba!”

“Vorse Raider, go!” Kaiba called forth a monster.

“I summon my obnoxious Celtic Guardian!” Yami Yugi spoke as he put this card on his Duel Disk. He knew that these mid-level monsters would not be able to last long, and led Kaiba to the other end of the corridor. “Make a run for it! Say… There’s a card key slot here. You can get us through this door, right?”

“What do you think I am, stupid?” Kaiba attempted to use his card key to get in, but only got an “access denied” response, even after trying twice.

“Yes… Yes, I certainly think you are.” When Yami Yugi looked up again, the enemy monsters approached even more closely. “Our monsters are gone… We’re done for!”

“No you’re not!” sounded a voice from the card key slot.

“Rebecca!”

“Need some help, boys?” Rebecca spoke as the doors opened, letting Kaiba and Yami Yugi enter the next corridor safely, and her voice continued over the P.A. “With my computer, I can hack into the KaibaCorp system. Kaiba, let me know if you want me to upgrade your system for you.”

“Can it, you kid… I mean… Thanks.”

“However, there’s just one problem… I can’t access the central computer.”

“But I can! Incidentally, guess where we just arrived? I’ll take it from here.” With that, Kaiba got to work on the central computer right awake. “With this, we can enhance those photos my men took at the museum.”

Kaiba swiped his card key again as the computer took biometric from him. “Voice recognition, set! Reboot with the backup system! Begin analyzing images! Cross-reference all the archaeological databases!”

“You… came prepared,” Yami Yugi remarked.

“It’s a week’s worth of hard work.” Symbols and inscriptions showed up on the large LED screens above, and Kaiba asked, “Professor, if you can hear me, what do these inscriptions mean?”

“Let’s see… They translate to, ‘After its 10000-year-long slumber, the black serpent will swallow the sun, and then paradise will rule once more.’”

“That insignia… I know I’ve seen it before…” Kaiba spoke as he typed into the computer. “It’s… the symbol of a secret financial organization, Paradius! And its president is… Oh, no! Yugi, it’s Dartz! This situation just got a lot stickier… We don’t know what we’re up against.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. You see, during a vision quest, I saw that man fight in an ancient Atlantean war. What confuses me, though, is how this 10000-year-old man is still alive today.”

“Make no mistake about it, I am indeed very much alive,” a voice spoke before the computers started to blow up, and distorted shadows started taking their places.

“Who are you? Show yourself!” Kaiba demanded.

“My, oh my… If it isn’t Seto Kaiba and the legendary so-called pharaoh. How is Timaeus’ eye, by the way?”

“Dartz!” Starting into the eye of his new enemy. Kaiba drew the Fang of Critias from his deck and held it at the ready. “Give me back my company, you prick!”

“And release the souls you’ve stolen!” Yami Yugi held the Eye of Timaeus in his right hand. “Duel us!”

“Hmm, let me think about it…” Dartz crossed his legs as he floated in the air, and looked up. “No.”

“That does it!” Kaiba and Yami Yugi summoned their dragons in unison. “We summon the dragons Critias and Timaeus!”

“Timaeus, attack!” Yami Yugi ordered.

But before Timaeus’ attack could hit Dartz, he had summoned a dragon, which shattered into a thousand holographic pieces.

“I don’t feel like dueling you today… Farewell, gentlemen!”

“Wait! Dartz, come back!” Yami Yugi shouted, but to no avail as the dragons – and warped shadows – disappeared to reveal the real world again.

“We can worry about Dartz later…” Kaiba noticed more monsters breaking in through the doors, and opened another elevator as an escape route. “Come in, quickly!”

Fortunately for them, this elevator was much quicker than the last one, and promptly took Kaiba and Yami Yugi to the roof. That didn’t mean Kaiba enjoyed what awaited him thence. “Great, what a surprise! More monsters!”

“There are too many of them, even for monsters as strong as ours.” Yami Yugi wasn’t afraid, even in the face of these odds, and said, “I know the best way to stop them.”

“Yugi, are you insane? I’ll call a plane and-” Kaiba wanted to search his deck for a strong monster before Yami Yugi could sing more words of the incantation. But it was just then that a couple of Assault Wyverns grabbed his arms and dug their claws into them. “Oh, no…”

Too busy dealing with the monsters in front of him, Yami Yugi didn’t notice the Red-Eyes Black Dragon about to attack him from the rear.

“Yugi! Watch out behind you!”

Though Kaiba now escaped from the monsters holding him back, it was too late, as the Red-Eyes Black Dragon set Yami Yugi’s back on fire. “Aaaaah!”

“Yugi!” Kaiba desperately searched his deck for a water-based card. “Water Hazard, do your thing!”

“Kaiba… Thank you,” Yami Yugi spoke when Water Hazard dissipated. “Even after I… practically rejected you. Even though you appear to be… urk! Even if you appear to be a… cruel person, I know there’s some good… in you… No matter what… Joey says…”

“I don’t give a damn about that right now! Just… please, don’t die…”

“What’s already dead can’t die, you know that.” Yami Yugi let out a weak chuckle, then passed out.

“Pharaoh… Pharaoh, no!” Kaiba cried as he held Yami Yugi’s unconscious body close to him. He hardly noticed, but all the while he felt a warm light brewing within him. “Please… I love you. I want to save you… Please, dear gods, I’ll do anything.”

Though this event occurred at the roof of the KaibaCorp building, Téa and Tristan could see a column of light towering to the sky.

“Oh, gosh… Tristan, something is happening at KaibaCorp, and it doesn’t look good!”

“Hey, what’s happening?” Rebecca – along with Duke and her grandfather – had caught up with the pair at last.

“Something tells me that Kaiba and the pharaoh are in trouble!” Tristan started running before the others could really get a handle on what was going on. “Come on, guys, let’s go!”

“Um… I don’t understand, but I trust you.” With that, Rebecca followed the others in the direction of the KaibaCorp building.

Still aglow, Kaiba hoisted Yami Yugi onto his back. With all the confidence he could muster, he jumped off the roof, and after freefalling for five seconds, he had morphed into the Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon once more.

“Raaaaar!” Kaiba unleashed a Shining Burst on the Red-Eyes Black Dragon that had attacked them, disintegrating it instantly.

This attack – and a few others that followed – was loud enough to awaken Yami Yugi, who had been sleeping at the base of Kaiba’s neck. “Kaiba…”

Having just defeated the last of the nearby enemies, Kaiba turned his head slightly to get a good look at the pharaoh.

“Don’t be shocked; I know it’s you, and I know you’ve saved me… I’m so fortunate… to have someone like you.” Yami Yugi reached his arms as far as he could around Kaiba’s neck, burying his face into it while he hugged him.

Too embarrassed now, Kaiba simply continued to fly while facing forward.

Before Kaiba could fly much further, Yami Yugi’s friends noticed the both of them – and Téa was the first. “Hey, it’s that Shining Dragon again! And he’s got the pharaoh!”

“You’re not getting away this time! I’m going to save the world from you today! Hermos, go save Yug!”

This time, Kaiba wasn’t so far into his own madness that he couldn’t think for himself. Oh Dweeb Patrol, your timing couldn’t be any worse! Unable to parry the Claw of Hermos in time, Kaiba had taken the full blow, plummeting to the ground along with Yami Yugi.

“Yugi! I’ve got you!” Téa caught Yami Yugi right before he could hit the concrete.

“Wait, look who else it is… It’s Kaiba! W-Whoah!” Before Joey could react, Kaiba landed on top of him, though Joey felt well enough to get up right away. “Ow, lay off the steaks, ya turd.”

“Ngh…” Kaiba managed to awaken upon crashing on top of Joey. “For the record, this ‘turd’ just saved your friend the pharaoh.”

“But we didn’t even see you up there on that Shining Dragon…” Joey ran a hand through his hair, and in a mocking tone he said, “Wait, let me guess. The dragon ate you and you somehow managed to slice it open from the inside. Quite a tall tale, if you ask me.”

“Joey, look!” Rebecca pointed at the claw wound on Kaiba’s chest.

“No way… That’s from the Claw of Hermos! So do you mean to tell me…”

“It’s about time you twerps figured it out. That dragon was me.”

“What?!” Everyone exclaimed in unison.

Kaiba used the ball of his hand to help himself get up. “And did I mention that I was the same dragon that you guys attacked about a week ago? The same dragon that fled from you because I was too damned afraid to show my face to the pharaoh?”

“Yeesh… Sorry.” Joey felt tempted to punch Kaiba earlier for landing on him, but let it go. “Look, for what it’s worth, we’ve helped you take back KaibaCorp… Well, at least the building. Isn’t that a good enough apology?”

“Hmph.” Kaiba held out a hand to shake, which Joey accepted. “Even I know to give credit when credit is due. But don’t expect me to be this nice again!”

Just when things started to get cozy, Joey could hear a loud motorcycle in the distance. He couldn’t quite catch the face of his opponent, but noticed a flash of spiky brown hair. “That was Valon…”

“I’m sorry?”

“Valon, come here, ya bastard!” Without another word, Joey had taken off in the direction of that motorcycle.

“Joey, you reckless buffoon, wait up!” At those words, Tristan was gone too.

“Must want revenge on him for stealing Mai Valentine…” Téa turned back to her friends. “So… So is Yugi- I mean, the pharaoh going to be okay?”

Kaiba scooped Yami Yugi up and carried him bridal style. “Once I get him to the hospital, yeah.”

“Don’t be stupid! You’re almost as badly injured as he is!”

“You underestimate me.” Kaiba left the vicinity before his own employees could find him. Besides, the pharaoh has his own score to settle, and I’ll make certain he does.

#yugioh #kaiba x atem #kaiba x yami yugi #ygo #prideshipping

0 notes

fairwindsandblueskies · 7 years

Text

The Burdens We Bear: Part 1

“Zane? Zane, wake up… wake up!”

The voice coupled along with the subtle shake of his arm quickly stirred the sleeping Hyur from his slumber as he groggily rose up from the couch and brushed a hand through his own short, disheveled black hair. “Huh? I… oh, Lyle. Did I fall asleep again?” He managed to mumble out between a yawn as his gaze fell over the young boy that had awoken him who’d yet to see their ninth summer.

“Uh-huh, now c’mon. Supper’s ready. Momma made her famous pie for desert so if ya don’t hurry up I’m gonna eat it all with Papa.” Said Lyle with a big grin on his face just seconds before he bolted off into the next room over.

Zane couldn’t help but chuckle upon seeing the boy’s excitement, and slowly after Lyle disappeared from the room Zane lifted himself up from the aged couch he was sitting on and followed after the boy into the small kitchen next door. The moment he made his into the next room, he was greeted by the faces of the Kattan family all gathered around a circular table cluttered with a small assortment of food over its wooden surface as they chatted away, but the conversation quickly died out as Zane entered the room and all eyes fell on him.

“Zane, my boy. Dozing off again, huh?” Said Samwell with a grin almost as big as his son’s.

“Samwell, honey. If the boy needs to sleep then let the boy sleep. I’m sure the Flames must be working him silly,” Said Jenne in turn as she gently chided her husband.

“Zane’s always sleeping too much to even play,” Lyle added in after his parents shortly after he shoved a spoonful of food into his mouth.

The comments brought out a low chuckle from the black haired Hyur as he eyed the smiling faces gathered around the table. It was a nostalgic sight to see. Just how long had it been since he had something like this? A family.

It all started a few weeks ago during one of his fateful patrols across the dry roads of Thanalan. He was confronted by the frantic couple while doing his usual rounds after they’d lost their boy somewhere in the backroads when a wandering ram chased them off and split them apart. And upon hearing their story he went off in search with Samwell at his side while Jenne was tasked with visiting the closest settlement to request further aid from other members of the Flames stationed nearby.

Before long the two were able to find Lyle, but he wasn’t alone. The wandering ram that’d split the young boy away from his parents off in the first place had backed him into a corner. The beast’s head hung low with his horns pointed forward toward the boy as it readied itself to charge, and without thinking Zane quickly drew the shield resting on his back and lunged forward in between them. He bolted towards them as quickly as he could, putting himself directly in the warpath of the wild beast as it collided head first into his shield arm. He swore he heard something crack as the force of the blow sent him flying back, and the shout of a man in the distance just moments before he hit the ground hard and everything went black.

By the time he’d awoken, Zane found himself in an infirmary run by the flames. His entire body ached, and his left arm was covered in a thick white cast. Yet, despite the pain, the first thing that came to mind was the boy and his father. What had happened since he blacked out? The nurse looking after him entered the room sometime after he came to, and was quickly assaulted with questions over the ordeal.

“Easy now. It was the boy’s father that carried you all the way back here. I’m told he managed to fight off and wound the ram you encountered with your own sword while you were out. As for the boy, why don’t you ask him yourself? You can come in now. He’s awake.” She called out loud, and no sooner did Samwell appear by the doorway with his wife Jenne at his side and Lyle hiding sheepishly behind them both.

“C’mon now, Lyle.” Said Samwell as he stepped aside and planted a hand along the boy’s back, gently nudging him into the room towards Zane. “Don’t ya have something to say to the brave young man that helped save ya?”

The boy was hesitant as he stepped into his room, and looked up between his parents who only nodded reassuringly toward him in turn. “Don’t be shy now, Lyle. Go, go.” Jenne urged as she patted the boy over the head.

At their behest, Lyle slowly approached the side of the bed. At first he hesitated to speak, and after taking a few reassuring glances back towards his parents he finally managed to work up the nerve to utter his words to Zane. “T-thanks mister. For saving me, and all that.” He never met Zane’s eyes as he spoke, but the gratitude in his soft-spoken voice was genuine all the same.

“Of course. I was just doing my job is all. I think anyone else in my position would have done the same. Lyle, was it? I’m glad you’re safe.” Zane smiled softly at the boy who did the same in turn.

“Don’t ya have something else to ask the young man, Lyle?” Said his father from the other end of the room.

“Oh! And uh... um… Momma and Poppa wanted to thank you for saving me with dinner. Do you… want to come? When you’re feeling better, mister. Momma’s cooking is really, really good.” Said Lyle, who finally worked up the nerve to meet Zane’s gaze this time around while he spoke.

“Dinner? Oh, I couldn’t possibly...” Zane’s words slowly trailed away as he glanced around the room, light blue eyes scanning over the faces of the small family looking his way that were hopeful to hear his answer. Perhaps, it wouldn’t be a bad idea after all. “Well, it’s hard to say no if your mom’s cooking is as good as ya say, Lyle.”

The boy’s face practically lit up when he heard those words, and a few days later Zane showed up at their small home late one evening after he was done making his round of patrols as he’d promised, unaware that this would be far from the last supper they’d have together.

“Zane? C’mon boy. Come eat before the food gets cold.” Said Samwell as he snapped his fingers at the table, snapping the young man out from his little reverie.

“Huh? Oh, right.” Zane muttered in retort as he approached the table and seated himself on the extra chair. As he sat down, he couldn’t help but glance around as he listened to three share stories about their day. It was something he’d grown accustomed to hearing across his numerous visits over the last few weeks. And while there was never too much variety between their stories, he enjoyed hearing it whenever he had a chance to drop by. Only a few short weeks had passed since their fateful meeting with each other, and though they were not bound by blood, the Kattan’s treated him as part of the family all the same, and never failed to welcome him into their cozy little home with smiles on their faces.

“Anything new with the Flames?” Jenne asked as she peeled her gaze away from her husband’s to meet Zane’s.

“The usual, really. Still rather quiet around these parts, but that’s a good sign if any. Been hearing a few reports of some Amalj’aa seen wandering about, but you lot don’t have to worry. Not with the Flames around to keep an eye on things.”

“The big lizard people?” Asked Lyle with another mouthful of food.

“Aye, the big lizard people.” Zane replied to the boy with a chuckle. “It’s nothing ya need to worry about, Lyle. Not with me around to protect you lot.” He flashed the boy a reassuring grin.

“Might be a different story if it’s a stray ram, however. But hey, that’s what ya have me around for, right? To carry you scrawny hide back if need be.” Teased Samwell as a small bout of laughter erupted around the table.

As the laughter died down and the four continued digging into their food, Zane couldn’t help but stop and glance around to admire what he had. It’d been a long time since he felt this relieved. This happy. And a part of him prayed that these small moments they shared would last forever, but…

Sooner or later, all good things must come to an end.

#ffxiv #ff14 #stories #writing

10 notes · View notes

harlockauxillia30k-blog · 7 years

Note

💛- A memory that makes them feel angry

“Harlock, you’re going to go in first. We’ll cover your company from here, but no retreat! We will fire on anyone who breaks and routs!”

Colonel Gorm Hector stared at Harlock with cold dead eyes. The entire regiment had been on this planet for weeks with the Iron Warriors. Casualties were at 35% and that was good, very good, compared to what other regiments had suffered. And now this.

“Well captain? Do I need to replace you?” The colonel said.

Harlock saw it in his eyes. The man was scared. The Iron Warriors wanted the entire regiment to advance didnt they. But this man- he didnt want to die today- luckily Harlock was just disposable enough to discard.

“Ave Imperator.” Harlock said, giving a salute as he held back a grimace. He walked over to his section of the line and explained to them the bad news.

“The Iron Warriors will shell our position or decimate us if we dont comply- and so will our comrades, I think, my friends.” Harlock said, looking at the weary men in his company.

“So we’ll do this. Lieutenant Vattius, how does the approach look. Any way we can mitigate losses on the advance?”

Vattius, a wise half-machine man who had miraculously survived a bolter friendly fire incident hummed- he was like a member of the Mechanicum now, especiall with an added logical cortex CPU. “Our recon reports the terrain is mostly ruinous, so we may expect light cover from destroyed building foundations. My own observations show that the ground elevation would make sections 8,7, and 10 good charge lanes. We could divide up the force among all three or stack up on one.”

Harlock considered that. Vattius was sharp, those all looked like good options, but he recalled a prior incident with an observed charge, and shook his head.”

“I’m sorry, but the enemy’s arillery is just too good for a massed centralized charge. I’m going to break this assault down into fire team elements to minimize collateral from shrapnel damage. That means that every soldier needs to find a combat comrade or two for the charge, and officers, I need you to organize your platoons along all three approach sections. Release fire teams gradually. We’ll forfeit surprise and shock value- but I have an idea for getting into the enemies’ lines.”

Harlock looked at his command staff and officers.

“I’m going to ram our gunship into the main command bunker here, perhaps loaded to bear with explosives. That will disrupt them. Combine that with smoke grenades to obfuscate vision, and my full permission to use every hand grenade in the entire company and hopefully we’ll gain enough purchase to take the first trench line.”

Vattius and the other lieutenants nodded. The pilots of the command staff were mortified. Harlock talked to them seperately. Personally guaranteed a few things to the one who agreed. Said that if they couldnt do it he would do it himself.

Eventually one brave young lad agreed, and all was set. The charge went underway in short order.

Immediately, enemy resistance was more effective than realized; hostile infra reds rendered the smoke worthless, the gunship’s sacrifice only took out a single heavy bunker complex out of the two that were in that section, and promised artillery support was either a lie or nonexistent- while the enemy’s shells crashed into ruined earth again and again.

Soon Harlock saw the assault waver. He personally picked up the company colours with his pistol hand, and led the entire remainder of the company over the top.

Immediately, Harlock lost a score of men to a heavy machine gun. Several of his soldiers had collapsed into crying wrecks in shell-formed foxholes, sobbing to themselves. Others stood around dazed, looking for missing arms and the like. Harlock pushed them all forward.

When he arrived inside the enemy trench, the fighting was fierce. Scores of both sides’ dead lined the trenches. Beyond, the second trench line of the enemy occasionally barked with fire as one of Harlock’s men was seen over the embankments, or tried to cross over in a charge.

“Company!” Harlock screamed into the vox

“Take their bunkers! Use their bunker towers against them men!”

Leading by example, harlock tossed the flag to a Sergeant and drew his sidearm, charging headfirst into a enemy occupied machine gun bunker complex. He was very nearly sawn in half by a defensive MG slit covering the door entrance, which explained the five dead Centauri riflemen by the door. The MG was protected by a thick concrete wall.

“Satchel! Bring up a satchel! Right bloody now!” Harlock barked, gripping a soldier by the collar who was about to charge in, and pulling him behind Harlock.

Soon a sapper arrived, and Harlock gave him a finger count. On three, the satchel flew in, and the entire interior wall- and its machine gun trap, were blasted.

“BREACH BRREACH! FOR THE EMPEROR!” Harlock bellowed, and led the assault in, immediately coming into contact with dazed and probably deafened survivors of the satchel charge. Harlock quickly dispatched them, and glanced at the men who had followed in.

“You four, the top levels. Watch the fething stairs! Frag every room you find- then breach. The rest- with me!”

It took around twelve minutes, but by exploring underground Tunnels, Harlock cleared out the complex. He also found the enemy had kept an extensive underground trench network.

“Feth me. soldiers, look for things of interest. This could be important. Wait… this links with the other towers, doesnt it.”

A swift running boy, who had already dashed through a few side passages returned. “By the emperor you’re right sir. Those and a lot more! Didnt get a chance to check it all.”

“Then thats our chance. I want multiple squads down here clearing it out and assaulting their bunkers from below. Get on it, and report back if you find anything useful. I need to be up with the men. Your in charge of this fire team now boy.”

Harlock clapped the young corporal’s shoulders and dashed up the steps to peer out of the bunker.

His manpower was dwindling. Localized sections of the trench were secure, but there would be no way Harlock would ever succeed in charging the second trench line.

“company! My orders!” Harlock announced via vox link:

“Hold position on this trench! I will request reinforcement.”

Harlock immediately began voxing Naval ships for fire support. Naturally, they were all tied up at that particular moment. Then, he voxed his colonel again. “Colonel Hector, this is Harlock. We have secured 75% of the first trench line. We’re working on taking the bunkers as hard points. requesting IMMEDIATE reinforcement!”

No reply. Harlock swore viciously “THAT FETHING COWARD!” Harlock bellowed as more shells fell, and stepped out of the trench to walk toward imperial lines, before he felt a burst of accurate las fire ripple past him- from his own regiment.

“Bastards. Fething bastards! Are we going to die here! Just throw an entire goddamn company away! We took an objective, you obstinant morons! Tell Colonel Hector that he can take his entire fething command and shove it right up his arse! Feth!”

A shell detonated nearby as Harlock shouted, knocking him down and deafening his hearing. He felt blood slip out onto his now mud-black uniform. There was a new shard of metal in his chest.

Limply, a hand went for a personal stim, and promtly injected it into his neck. With immense throbbing pain, Harlock pushed himself up, feeling his guts tear apart. Apparently, a soldier was shouting at him.

“Sir! incoming! From the imperial side now! Its a sector wide barrage and we’re locked in sir! Sir what do we do! Can we retreat?!”

Harlock blinked.

“Tunnels…”

The soldier was confused.

“In- hah– in the bunkers. Tunnel access points. Get.. company to the tunnels. I need a medic, trooper.”

“Get Captain Harlock a medic, and get me a vox! We have orders!”

Harlock felt limp in another man’s arms as the combat stim numbed all sensation.

When he came to, he was in a trench, packed in with his men. He still heard fighting- now echoing through the tunnels. Lieutenant Vattius was tending to his wounds.

“I- didnt know you had the skill, Leftenant…” Harlock mumbled.

“By good fortune, I actually read between deployments and attend those nice vocational studies programs you keep brushing off, sir.” a tinny metal voice replied.

“Hold still, I’m finishing off the stich with wound glue. It’s going to burn, but if you move or react much, I’ll need to do it all over again.”

Harlock nodded, and screamed as the glue was applied to his wound. Vattius, somehow, was humming himself an old tune from the homeworld. How he kept sane Harlock didn’t know.

“Leftenant Tenant died in the move to the tunnels I’m afraid. Leftenant Daniels is wounded but, unlike you….”

Vattius finished his work, satisfied.

“…wont be able to move for a while. Good sir. Get up, the company needs orders.”

Harlock got up and listened. Beyond the thunderous echoes of distant tunnel combat, there were no detonations.

“the barrage is over?”

Vattius nodded. “Finished about five minutes ago. That’s when I elected to wake you with a stim. We need orders.”

Harlock nodded and took a swig of water.

“Prepare teams to go topside and occupy the bunkers again. Report if the accesses are blocked. How long have we been down here?”

Vattius considered. “Thirty minutes or so.”

“Too long. Get as much of us out of here as possible. They might be able to cave these in if they tried.”

Vattius nodded. “Wise, captain. I will take the bunker above here, and report back.”

Harlock agreed. Vattius should make fething captain for this. Damn good officer.

In a few more minutes, spent mostly encouraging the men and testing his wounded body, Harlock heard the word.

“Alright, men, on me! We re-take the trench now, quick before the enemy floods it with reinforcement!”

A soldier dared to ask. “Wheres our reinforcement sir?”

Harlock blinked, and pat the man on the back. “Its on the way son. Don’t you worry.”

Another one said. “M’ scared sir…”

Harlock knew executing this man, or some other nonsense would destroy morale. Now was the moment for inspiration.

“So am I lads. But do you know what we’re going to do? We’re going to take this trench. Because I believe in each one of you, and everything that you can do. I love you boys. Lets give it a real last hurrah, and make our colonel pin some nice big medals on our chests for this one, aye?”

The men weren’t too sure. It wasnt the best speech, but serviceable. The unit followed Harlock without further complaint.

Vattius was found topside, standing in the middle of the trenc, fanning his men out to fill it up.

Harlock moved to him immediately.

“Only a few survivors of the bombardment and enemy scouts. I’d say they’re forming for an attack. We hold the bunker here, others are falling in as well. Soon we’ll hold the entire trench.”

Harlock nodded, saluted, and waled off to his vox man, still inside the bunker.

Just as he picked up the vox, a deafening ‘WHUMP’ was heard.

Harlock glanced back.

In the trench section where the finest lieutenant he had ever served with once stood, a massive gunmetal grey drop pod stood, now surrounding a swirling pile of body parts and gore from not just Vattius, but at least four other men.

From that drop pod, a cold, metal warrior trudged out, and glanced around, promptly targetting another imperial, before realizing no one was going to shoot back.

The Iron warrior trudged forward, smashing open a large hole through the bunker’s ruined doorframe without comment, and glanced at Harlock.

“We ordered this trench section taken an hour and a half ago.” The marine said matter-of-factly.

“Your gross inefficiency offends the emperor.”

Harlock was at a loss for words, which was fine, as the marine ignored his presence and walked out of the bunker just as he came.

The Iron warriors swept the secondary and tertiary trench sections in approximately twenty minutes, most of the enemy routing upon seeing a sizeable number of them.

Harlock simply stood and looked at the now empty drop pod, and the ooze of gore surrounding its base. There were not even words to describe the hate he felt.

#damn that was long but good #ask-magnus-the-red #post

6 notes · View notes

junker-town · 4 years

Text

Here’s this week’s NFL mock draft — with TRADES

Ohio State cornerback prospect Jeff Okudah will likely be a top-10 pick in 2020.

Deals are part of every draft. This week’s NFL mock looks at some that could happen.

Trades are the single most intriguing part of any NFL Draft. It will be no different for the 2020 iteration. Four of the first 32 picks have already been moved, but they all come at pick No. 18 or later.

Rest assured, plenty of picks inside the top 10 will get moved. Last year 12 picks in the first round changed hands. That includes the No. 30 being swapped three times.

This week’s mock draft might not explore trades that complex, but it makes some predictions about which teams could be moving around in the first round.

1. Cincinnati Bengals: Joe Burrow, QB, LSU

2. Washington: Chase Young, DE, Ohio State

When is the last time the first and second picks in the draft were so obvious before the NFL Scouting Combine? It might have been 2015, when Jameis Winston and Marcus Mariota went first and second. Before them, it was probably 2010 with Sam Bradford and Ndamukong Suh. All that really means is that we should easily be able to predict the 2025 draft when the time comes.

TRADE: Miami sends pick Nos. 5 and 18 to Detroit for pick No. 5.

3. Miami Dolphins: Tua Tagovailoa, QB, Alabama

The Dolphins have plenty of draft ammunition to move up to get Tagovailoa. While the teams directly in front of them don’t need a quarterback, the teams behind them do. Instead of chancing things, they can shift some excess draft capital.

4. New York Giants: Isaiah Simmons, LB, Clemson

If Miami does trade up to No. 3, the speculation with the draft starts with the Giants. If they can fight the right partner, they could even move back a few picks and still get a starter-level offensive tackle in the top 10. If they stay here, they could go after a superstar player like Simmons. New York’s defense is low on playmakers, and pass rusher Markus Golden is a free agent.

5. Detroit Lions: Jeff Okudah, CB, Ohio State

No team gave up more than Detroit’s 284.4 yards passing per game last season, and it was particularly bad down the stretch, allowing more than 300 yards per game in the final three weeks. The Lions need a lockdown cornerback like Okudah. They’d be justified in taking him third overall, so it would be a coup to drop back and get him and another first-round pick this year.

6. Los Angeles Chargers: Justin Herbert, QB, Oregon

Barring a free agent signing, the Chargers definitely need Herbert in the first round this year. If they do, the rest of their offseason plan has to involve improving a porous offensive line.

TRADE: Jacksonville sends pick Nos. 9 and 42 to Carolina for pick No. 7

7. Jacksonville Jaguars (via Carolina Panthers): Derrick Brown, DT, Auburn

If Brown doesn’t get selected in the first six picks, the Jaguars would be smart to jump up and not risk losing out on him. Jacksonville had one of the NFL’s worst run defenses last season, and Brown should help improve it. With two-first round picks because of the Jalen Ramsey trade, the Jaguars could get creative.

8. Arizona Cardinals: Tristan Wirfs, OT, Iowa

If a couple of trades happen in front of them, the Cardinals could get lucky and have their pick of offensive linemen. Wirfs might be a right tackle, but he’s a sensational one. He has the athleticism teams covet and would help keep Kyler Murray upright.

9. Carolina Panthers: Javon Kinlaw, DT, South Carolina

The best way for a new head coach to reshape a roster in his vision is to acquire draft picks. With a seven-year contract in hand, new Panthers coach Matt Rhule could take that approach to Carolina. Passing on Brown will be difficult, but getting an extra second-round pick this year could be worth it. While Kinlaw isn’t the run stuffer Brown is, he’s a standout talent who creates pressure up the middle.

TRADE: Las Vegas sends pick Nos. 12, 80, and a 2021 second-rounder to Cleveland for pick No. 10

10. Las Vegas Raiders: Jerry Jeudy, WR, Alabama

Another team with multiple first-round picks is the Raiders, who could also get creative. Specifically, they may want to get ahead of the Jets to take the wideout they prefer. That could be Jeudy, a smooth receiver who should make an impact immediately in the NFL.

11. New York Jets: CeeDee Lamb, WR, Oklahoma

It’s true, the Jets could take an offensive tackle here, and it would be a fine choice. Sam Darnold has almost no weapons on offensem though. Robby Anderson, his best wide receiver, could sign elsewhere this offseason. Keeping Darnold’s pocket clean is nice, but he needs to throw someone the ball.

12. Cleveland Browns: Jedrick Wills, OT, Alabama

Once again, the Browns have a new general manager and head coach, and they could take advantage of the draft’s offensive tackle depth and move down while getting extra picks. Whether it’s Wills, Georgia’s Andrew Thomas, or Louisville’s Mekhi Becton, they should be able to find a starting tackle in this range.

13. Indianapolis Colts: Jordan Love, QB, Utah State

Surprise! Love’s production dipped in 2019, but the Colts could get desperate after an up-and-down season from Jacoby Brissett once he replaced Andrew Luck. If the Colts convince themselves that Love really is the next Patrick Mahomes, they will jump on him in the top 15.

14. Tampa Bay Buccaneers: Mekhi Becton, OT, Louisville

Look, of course the Buccaneers need to figure out quarterback and their pass rush. But year after year, this team manages to ignore the offensive line. Since 2016, Tampa Bay has drafted just two offensive linemen. Not two tackles or two guards. Two total in four drafts.

15. Denver Broncos: Henry Ruggs III, WR, Alabama

We’re back to Ruggs landing in Denver. It just fits. Ruggs is a deep speed receiver, and Broncos quarterback Drew Lock is a deep-ball specialist. Next.

16. Atlanta Falcons: A.J. Epenesa, DE, Iowa

If Epenesa is available for the Falcons, it’s hard to say no. The Falcons could lose Vic Beasley and Adrian Clayborn this offseason, and Takkarist McKinley is a free agent after the 2020 season. The pass rush situation for Atlanta is dire.

17. Dallas Cowboys: Grant Delpit, S, LSU

Don’t forget, after the 2018 season, people were gaga for Delpit. Like, top-five pick gaga. His 2019 was a bit of a letdown, but he was hurt and asked to play deep safety more often. When he’s healthy, he’s a playmaker.

18. Detroit Lions (via Pittsburgh via Miami): K’Lavon Chaisson, Edge, LSU

Despite adding Trey Flowers last offseason, the Lions still need someone who can get to the quarterback. Chaisson is a bit of a projection, but in the right system he can make an impact as a standup edge player.

19. Las Vegas Raiders (via Chicago Bears): Trevon Diggs, CB, Alabama

The Raiders took Trayvon Mullen in the second round last year and could find him a partner on the outside in the first round this year. Diggs is a big cornerback who can press and stick with speed receivers, even at 6’2.

20. Jacksonville Jaguars: (via Los Angeles Rams): Kristian Fulton, CB, LSU

The Jaguars became a good team a couple seasons ago thanks to a stellar defense. With a second first-round pick in the draft, they can rebuild that side of the ball in a big way. Fulton has good size and speed for the position, and can play in the slot or outside.

21. Philadelphia Eagles: Laviska Shenault Jr., WR, Colorado

A run on defenders in front of them could be beneficial for the Eagles. That would allow a wide receiver to slip to them, whether it’s Shenault, Clemson’s Tee Higgins, or Penn State’s K.J. Hamler.

22. Buffalo Bills: Tee Higgins, WR, Clemson

The Bills lack a wide receiver with size who can make a difference. Higgins, at 6’4 with jump ball skills, checks that box. Higgins is going to get dinged in the draft because his speed is relatively normal. But few receivers can match him for his ability to go up and get the ball.

23. New England Patriots: Jacob Eason, QB, Washington

In any other year when they don’t have a second-round pick, the Patriots would likely move down. But strange things happen when a quarterback is at stake. In this case, it’s for the chance at landing a project player with upside in Eason. The Patriots could go from Drew Bledsoe to Tom Brady to a Drew Bledsoe clone.

TRADE: Miami sends pick Nos. 26 and 70 to New Orleans for pick No. 24

24. Miami Dolphins (via Houston Texans): Andrew Thomas, OT, Georgia

The Dolphins really have the ammunition to do what they want in this draft. If they see a player they covet, they’d be smart to get him. Thomas has experience at both tackle spots and acquainted himself well on the left side the last two seasons.

25. Minnesota Vikings: Josh Jones, OT, Houston

Thomas and Jones both fell a little bit in this week’s mock draft, but never forget that no one really knows what’s going to happen on draft night. If Jones slides, the Vikings can stop his free fall at No. 25 and Riley Reiff can finally be moved off the left tackle spot.

26. New Orleans Saints: CJ Henderson, CB, Florida

A trade for the Saints is the ideal because they have no second-round picks this year. If they miss out on Love and Eason, they could wait another year on a quarterback prospect. Instead, they could turn to the back part of the defense, where the team sorely lacks outside cornerbacks besides Marcus Lattimore. Sure, Janoris Jenkins is there, but he could be a money-saving cut.

TRADE: Kansas City sends pick Nos. 32 and 63 to Seattle for pick No. 27

27. Kansas City Chiefs (via Seattle Seahawks): Patrick Queen, LB, LSU

This trade was just as much about Seattle’s penchant for making deals than anything else. The Chiefs might want to move up to snag Queen before the Packers take him. Queen is a player I think will get hot leading up to the draft, and the Chiefs badly need linebacker help. The team’s other big need — running back — can be found at any point.

28. Baltimore Ravens: Terrell Lewis, Edge, Alabama

As a hybrid pass rusher, Lewis is the perfect fit for Baltimore. Lewis is a long and fast pass rusher who could replace Matt Judon if he leaves in free agency.

29. Tennessee Titans: Austin Jackson, OT, USC

The Titans didn’t pick up Jack Conklin’s fifth-year option, so that should tell you what they think of the 2016 first-round pick. On a team that prioritizes the run, it’s imperative Tennessee’s line remains strong. Jackson’s background is at left tackle, but he’s too good to pass up at No. 29.

30. Green Bay Packers: Justin Jefferson, WR, LSU

Imagine forcing Aaron Rodgers to perform in the twilight of his career throwing to the likes of Jake Kumerow, Allen Lazard, Equanimeous St. Brown, and Marquez Valdes-Scantling. Get Rodgers a real receiver before it’s too late.

31. San Francisco 49ers: Jeff Gladney, CB, TCU

If Gladney does well for himself at the combine, he’s a player who could jump into the back part of the first round. Ahkello Witherspoon had a rocky third season, and the 49ers could look to bolster their talent in the secondary.

32. Seattle Seahawks: Zack Baun, LB, Wisconsin

Baun isn’t a traditional edge rusher, but that didn’t stop him in 2019. He finished the season with 12.5 sacks and 19.5 tackles for loss for Wisconsin, and his skill set as a speed linebacker standing up translates to the NFL.

0 notes

dropbee7-blog · 5 years

Text

Cold Takes: A Look At Chicago’s Sloppy Win At San Francisco

We’ve all seen the “Hot Takes” from the last weekend’s games all over the net.

In this series, I’m letting some time pass, and after reviewing the game tape a couple of times, I’m going to share some “Cold Takes” about the Bears pulling out a tough win over the San Francisco 49ers and staying alive for a bye in the playoffs. I’ll also sprinkle in a few thoughts about our division rivals. These are just a series of my thoughts and observations about the game as well as the Bears in general up until this point, presented in no particular order.

My game ball goes to Danny Trevathan. Not only did he have a huge, game saving pick, he also played on whale of a game from the first snap to the last. Honorable mentions go to Roquan Smith, Akiem Hicks, Khalil Mack, Eddie Goldman, Sherrick McManis, Deon Bush, Prince Amukamara, Kyle Fuller and last but certainly not least Leonard Floyd.

Leonard Floyd is the monster that we wanted out of him when we drafted him. These last six weeks, after he was fully healthy from the knee (from last season) and the hand, the man has been money. Literally. He’s about to get PAID.

Speaking of Floyd, if he starts this weekend I do believe we’ve got a couple of signature bets that get won... It will be interesting to see if the people who bet their sigs that Floyd wouldn’t start the entire season will “remember” that they did so.

No, before you ask, I am not the sig-bet police.

As usual, I’ve not got much to say about Mitchell Trubisky, mostly because everybody else talks about him a lot. Mitch had great numbers, but unlike what was reported on the radio, he had NOT seen the defensive holding flag when he launched that horrible throw into the end zone that was picked off. He just plain missed, and we got lucky.

THOSE types of passes are what we can’t have in the playoffs from Mitchell. He doesn’t have to win games by himself (he can HELP though), but he cannot allow himself to lose games. That was a Rex Grossman type throw, and we just need to not have any more of those.

Jordan Howard needs 176 yards to break 1,000 for the season (last time I checked). I’d like to see the Bears give Howard 40 carries and see if he can break that mark... because if they do that, and if he did, we win this ballgame this week. Minnesota is actually really struggling with the run (if you take out the LOLions & Packers games, because they can’t run on an NAIA team let alone an NFL team).

Richard Sherman’s explanations about the proper way to hit other players in the helmet when in a fight were interesting. Never punch, always swat with an open hand... they feel it more and you don’t hurt yourself. Sherman has a lot of experience doing this. I wonder why a lot of players think he’s a dirtbag?

We only dressed 4 WR’s, and when Anthony Miller and Josh Bellamy were ejected for fighting that left us with two wideouts for the rest of the game. For a lot of teams this would be a problem, but for Chicago? We just slotted Tarik Cohen and one of our pass catching tight ends out there and pressed on.

Think about this one, how things have changed. We only dressed four WR’s and one of them was Bellamy... and everybody was happy about it.

I asked the boys at The Chicago Audible Podcast (CLICKY) (formerly Da Bears Brothers Podcast) in their December 19 Q&A show (CLICKY) if they thought Joshua Bellamy had earned a multi year deal, and the fellas agreed that he had. Truth compels me to admit a bit of trolling here, I’m a long time listener and fan of the show, and over the history of the show the boys have not been noted as the biggest Bellamy fans... in fact, they pretty well universally had him cut during the pre-season roster episode.

So what do you good people think, does Joshua Bellamy deserve a multi-year contract along the lines of a Sherrick McManis deal? I think he absolutely does.

The more I watch Matt Nagy on tape... later after the game’s emotions settle down... the more impressed I am by how quickly he reads the defenses and throws changes at them.

This will probably make you roll your eyes, but I am dead serious. Matt Nagy slots in age between Drew Brees and Tom Brady. With what he has between his ears, if he can throw the ball AT ALL, he could be a winning quarterback in the NFL today. Make the read, get the ball out, boom. Of course, the first hit might put him in intensive care, but... hey, dreaming doesn’t hurt :)

BOOM!

Speaking of BOOM!...

Chicago Bears fans need to make BOOM! work, and we need to start in the playoffs. Seriously, this HAS to be a thing. Can you imagine the power and shock of 60,000 rabid Bears fans... and their players on the sidelines... doing the Matt Nagy BOOM!

I’ve been reading a lot of articles about Matt Patricia. We got the right Matt.

Green Bay has played a lot better since they fired their coach after losing at home to the hapless Arizona Cardinals.

I’m still laughing so hard it hurts... Green Bay lost at home to the Arizona Freaking Cardinals. The likely first team in the draft. With a healthy Aaron Rodgers. Excuse me, I’m about to die laughing.

Gasp. OK, got my breath back now. Whew.

Don’t look now, but Jon Gruden is still and idiot.

OK, there’s really only one huge thing to talk about with the 49ers and Bears, and of course it’s Robbie Gould. Robbie, a Bear forever no matter where and how long he plays, sure is missed, but even he admits he was needing a change his last year in Chicago. Personally, I think that change could have come by getting him a new position coach and coordinator to fix his mechanical issues and help him focus, but Ryan Pace decided to save some coin and cut him.

That’s worked out great for Robbie, but terrible for the Bears. Robbie has been even more automatic since he left than he was in his prime here. Of course, in San Fran land he’s kicking in much better conditions than Chicago, but still, the dude is on fire.

Bold prediction time. Robbie is a free agent, and appears to be happy in San Francisco... but he lives in Chicago, loves Chicago and the Bears need to upgrade in the kicking department. My bold (and very unlikely to come true) prediction is that Chicago eats the rest of Parkey’s contract and signs Robbie this off-season as a free agent on a 3-year deal. Robbie would rather live here with his family than out of an apartment out there...

Yeah, I know, that last one is more a pipe dream than reality, but a fan can hope.

As usual, I asked my fellow WCG contributors if they had any cold takes to share... you just know they did...

Eric C. Duerrwaechter

I sure do miss Robbie Gould. And the rest of the Bears’ fanbase certainly does as well. It bites not having a kicker who’s as automatic as Gould was during his prime, even through today. With that said, the objective should be touchdowns, not field goals. Yes, Ryan Pace and his staff should look into adding competition next year at the Kicker position. Then again, this offense is light years away from the old mindset of controlling the clock and settling for field goals if need be. Matt Nagy and this team want touchdowns, nothing less. And, well, I do not feel Parkey is nearly as bad as Connor Barth was for his time in Chicago.

It’s also comforting to see Mitchell Trubisky continuing to improve after his stinker against the Rams two weeks ago. As he displayed against the Packers just a week prior, Trubisky utilized his athleticism as a tool to buy time for his receivers to get open against zone coverage. He took a few sacks at San Fran against a decent front seven, yet he didn’t seem overly rattled when pressure was applied. Instead, he looked downfield, made quick decisions, and threw bullets with anticipation and accuracy. That is something I have waited to see consistently for a while now. Oh, and he is in the midst of a 7-game winning streak as the Bears’ starting QB. The last time any QB won 7 in a row? 2006, with Rex Grossman; a QB comparison that Trubisky has certainly outperformed.

And now, time to get a little hot...

Screw all the talk from ESPN and other pundits about needing an MVP caliber QB to reach the Super Bowl. Trent Dilfer won a Super Bowl in 2000 with the Baltimore Ravens despite not even touching 2,000 yards in 11 starts while passing 12 TDs to 11 Ints. Joe Flacco won a Super Bowl in 2012 with a great defense while posting mediocre stats as a QB. Peyton Manning rode a great defense to the Super Bowl in 2015 despite having his worst year as a pro. He, Manning, threw 17 interceptions compared to just 9 touchdowns. And, just last year, a back-up in Nick Foles became the 2nd ever backup QB to win a Super Bowl. I would say Trubisky is better than any of those QBs were in the aforementioned seasons, and he’s good enough to win a Super Bowl with this season thanks to a scary Bears defense paired with a smart coaching staff.

Rant. Over.

Josh Sunderbruch

I don’t blame Ryan Pace for moving on from Robbie Gould at kicker. It needed to happen, and it was a decision based on performance (not pay). However, I absolutely do blame Ryan Pace for the parade of ineptitude that has made its way through the position since Gould was cut. Better kickers were available, yet Pace has provided the Bears with a motley collection that has gone 56/74 (<76%) since 2015.

Superfans

OK, Chicago Bears fans, there you have it. What do you think? Spill the beans!

Source: https://www.windycitygridiron.com/2018/12/27/18157612/cold-takes-a-look-at-chicago-bears-sloppy-win-at-san-francisco-49ers-danny-trevathan-mitch-trubisky

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

0 notes

omfgtrump · 5 years

Text

It’s The Base, Stupid

I would be remiss if I forget to give a shout out to the valiant and heroic actions of our military during the War of 1812 for defending our airports. America thanks you from the bottom of its heart.

The Don, during his made for TV July 4th special called “Look at Me I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy,” praised our soldiers that “manned the air, rammed the ramparts, took over airports, it did everything it had to do.” His staff had begged him to keep the remark out of the speech, but ultimately they caved when he conceded that he wouldn’t say: “You know, I knew George Washington, and he was one tough cookie like me.”

Now that we have soared to unimagined heights with our planes, it’s time to talk about less lofty things, which brings me to the word “base”. I suppose it could be an airport base, but that plane has come and gone.

For starters here’s The Don waxing poetically about his base:

“I have a base that’s a phenomenal — it’s just a phenomenal base,” Trump said in a recent interview with Time magazine. “It’s a very loyal base, and I’m loyal to them also.” When asked if he should reach beyond his supporters, he answered simply, “I think my base is so strong, I’m not sure that I have to do that.” Which word(s) do you relate to most when it comes to describing his base:

1.Phenomenal

2. Loyal

3. So strong

Tough choice, but I personally go for “so strong.” I just love a strong bass in my music. And if you are wondering if I am mixing up base with bass, shame on you for caring about the meaning of words. I just love a strong bottom.

And so does The Don. To misquote Michelle Obama: “When they go low, The Don goes lower.” So the question is how low can you go Don? How base can you get? Where is the nadir?

The Don’s campaign and administration has been a “Who’s Who” in the world of the rich, the basest, and the abusers. This shouldn’t come as a surprise, as the person at the top, creates the culture, and in The Don’s world, misogyny rules.

Besides the infamous Access Hollywood Tape, where he reveled that his fame imbued him with the power to ‘”grab their pussies,” there is the reality of at least 23 women accusing him of sexual impropriety. And just three weeks ago, E. Jean Carroll, a well-known writer, accused Trump of what amounted to a violent rape in the mid-1990s. (Two friends of hers confirmed that she’d told them about it at the time.) In response, Trump essentially said “she’s not my type” — and claimed that he’d never met her. That was a provable lie; there’s a photograph of them together.

And let’s not forget ex-wife, Ivana Trump, who claimed The Don once raped her.

Now we have the Jeffrey Epstein, Robert Acosta debacle. But before we get to that sordid abomination, let’s do a little ‘Who’s Who’ of the awful that have been involved with The Don since he ran for president.

Let’s begin with the physically abusive:

Rob Porter, who The Don and then Chief of Staff John Kelly defended, despite photos from Porter’s ex-wife, sporting bruises all over her. Here’s Kelly after the allegations were made known to him: “Rob Porter is a man of true integrity and honor, and I can’t say enough good things about him,”

Steve Bannon was charged in 1996 with domestic violence and battery and dissuading a witness over an alleged incident regarding his ex-wife.

How about Andy Pudzer, one time choice for Secretary of Labor who ultimately withdrew his nomination. Pudzer’s, wife, Lisa Firstein, appeared on an episode of Oprah called “High-Class Battered Women,” which aired in March of 1990. Firstein appeared incognito and showed up in a wig and glasses and was identified only by the made-up name of Ann.

Acting Defense Secretary Patrick Shanahan resigned over domestic violence allegations, And then there is touching father-son story about how Shanahan defended and protected his son who brutally beat his mother with a baseball bat; he left her lying in a pool of blood and ripped out the phone cord for good measure so she couldn’t call for help.

Shanahan’s response was to this horrific act was: She had “harassed [William] for nearly three hours before the incident.” I don’t know about you, but if your parent is bugging you can always just leave. How crazy would that be? But Shanahan thought the baseball bat was fair game!

A Trump administration speechwriter, David Sorensen, resigned after his ex-wife reported that he’d put out a cigarette on her and ran over her foot with a car. Rumor has it that Sorenson said “she’s lucky I didn’t run over her foot with my truck.”

Now let’s move on to the misogynists/sexual abusers/predators in the Who’s Who?

Let’s go back to Andy Pudzer the CEO of Hardees and Carl Jr.’s, a fast food chain. Pudzer drew attention because of the ads he ran to promote his burgers.

“We believe in putting hot models in our commercials, because ugly ones don’t sell burgers,” said in a 2011 press release, according to Fortune. “We target hungry guys, and we get young kids that want to be young hungry guys.” As late as 2015, Puzder said: “I like our ads. I like beautiful women eating burgers in bikinis. I think it’s very American.”

Remember Roy Moore, the man who lost the Alabama Senate race to Democrat Doug Jones? The man accused of pedophilia? The Don supported his candidacy whole-heartedly.

Even the morally bankrupt Republican lawmakers drew the line at pedophilia, but the Don said this: “I have NOTHING against Roy Moore, and unlike many other Republican leaders, wanted him to win.” In other words, the fact that he preyed on teenage girls was a nothing burger. Why should we be surprised, as The Don in the 2013 Miss Teen Universe said this: “You know they’re standing there with no clothes. Is everybody OK? And you see these incredible looking women. And so I sort of get away with things like that.”

And remember the Brett Kavanaugh hearing. The Don mocked Christine Blasey-Ford’s testimony regarding Kavanaugh raping her in high school: “I don’t know. I don’t know,” the President continued. “What neighborhood was it in? I don’t know. Where’s the house? I don’t know. Upstairs, downstairs — where was it? I don’t know — but I had one beer. That’s the only thing I remember.”

So why should we be surprised that to this date, The Don has not said one word denouncing Jeffrey Epstein’s monstrous activities of sex trafficking and rape of underage girls?

The Don once said this about his one-time hang-out buddy:

“It is even said that he likes beautiful women as much as I do, and many of them are on the younger side… “

There is a lot to say about the Epstein case and much more will be revealed as the days go by, but I will be brief. Epstein, received a sweetheart deal back in 2008 from none other than Alex Acosta,* The Don’s Secretary of Labor, who was then a U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of Florida. How was it possible for that deal to happen? All I can say is that when all is exposed there will be a whole lot of collateral damage as there was a whole lot of cover-up and shenanigans going on.

For example, remarkably, after Epstein served his time, he had to register as a sex offender. Inexplicably, the Manhattan district attorney’s office, under Democrat Cyrus Vance Jr., asked a judge to downgrade Epstein’s sex offender status from Level 3, the most serious, to Level 1, the least. The judge, stunned, refused. “I am a little overwhelmed because I have never seen a prosecutor’s office do anything like this,” she said.

Epstein’s response to this seemingly magical shift in his status said: it’s the “difference between a murderer and stealing a bagel: predator-offender.” When I read this I almost puked and don’t know if I will ever be able to look at a bagel the same way.

To add insult to injury, at the very time the Epstein case has been bubbling over (he has been indicted by the Southern District of New York for his actions), The Don’s company was about to hold a golf tournament where strippers would be caddies before it was called off. Exotic dancers would wear pink mini-skirts and sexy white polo shirts. However, if you bought the V.I.P package you could go back to the strip club and maybe if you were lucky, get some nudity and who knows what else.

Don’t you just love the base?

*Acosta recently resigned as Secretary of Labor but The don had nothing but great things to say about.

from WordPress https://ift.tt/2jH0xuJ via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress #trump #politics #potus #capital hill #washington dc #white house #america #usa

0 notes

madpicks · 7 years

Photo

New Post has been published on http://www.madpicks.com/daily-fantasy-sports/top-daily-fantasy-football-plays-saturdays-week-2-preseason-games/

Top daily fantasy football plays for Saturday’s Week 2 preseason games

MadPicks.com will be bringing you the top options on virtually all preseason slates through the end of August. There are eight games on the Saturday slate (Carolina-Tennessee is not available), so the options are a bit more wide open for DraftKings and FanDuel slates. As is always the case, keep an eye on Twitter throughout the day on gamedays, as injury and lineup news is always coming in prior to kickoff, turning popular plays into fades and lifting obscure plays into tournament-winning position.

Quarterback

DeSean Watson, Houston Texans vs. New England Patriots

Watson was everything fantasy players in Week 1 were hoping for, as he passed and ran his way to about 15 points in about 25 minutes of action. Watson could conceivably play an entire half in this game, and we saw last week what Jacksonville’s suspect offense did to the Patriots on the road. Things are lining up for a potentially monster outing from Watson, who could make a strong case to the Week 1 starter.

Mitchell Trubisky, Chicago Bears at Arizona Cardinals

Expectations were low for Trubisky in his professional opener against the Broncos last week, and he went out and reminded Bears fans what a competent, dynamic quarterback actually looks like. With a fine performance in his back pocket, Trubisky should play even more this week, against a defense that has made the likes of Kellen Moore look like a world beater two weeks ago.

Jimmy Garoppolo, Patriots at Texans

Tom Brady is expected to start against Houston, and might play about a quarter, maybe less. That should give Garoppolo somewhere in the neighborhood two quarters of playing time, which was similar to last week’s total, which led to a solid scoring line. Garoppolo also gets the benefit of facing the Texans’ backups on defense, which enhances his chances to be successful.

Drew Stanton, Cardinals vs. Bears

In the Hall of Fame Game, it was Blaine Gabbert who made the most of his opportunity, and we hyped Gabbert for last week’s slate, and he disappointed. Instead, it was Stanton who delivered a terrific performance against the Raiders. Suddenly, it’s Stanton who looks like the shoo-in for backup duties in Arizona and he is expected to be given the chance to further that claim tonight against the Bears.

C.J. Beathard, San Francisco 49ers vs. Denver Broncos

Two things that happened last week: Beathard looked pretty sharp against the Chiefs in the second half and Trubisky looked like an All-Pro against the Denver backups on defense. Tonight, Beathard gets his crack at the backups on the Denver defense. No one will be on Beathard, but the spot is a good one to surprise.

Running Back

Tarik Cohen, Bears at Cardinals

I loved Cohen last week and he showed why the Bears’ coaching staff loves him as well in his limited duty against Denver. The hope is that Cohen gets a longer look against Arizona, because he’s clearly the kind of back who can do damage, especially in PPR tournaments. I would have no hesitation going right back to him this week.

Kareem Hunt, Kansas City Chiefs at Cincinnati Bengals

Hunt was pretty much a bust last week against San Francisco, but the Chiefs are no less committed to him, and Charcandrick West certainly didn’t give any reason why he should be getting more reps than the rookie. The feeling is that Hunt will get a serious chance to carry the ball in this game and show off his talents, which puts him back on this list.

D’Onta Foreman, Texans vs. Patriots

Foreman delivered in a big way in the Texans’ opener last week with 82 yards on nine carries. We saw the Jags run all over the Patriots last week, especially with their back-up running backs. Foreman is in a battle with Alfred Blue for the No. 2 role on the Texans and should get another chance to make his case.

Jamaal Williams, Green Bay Packers at Washington

Check on the availability of Ty Montgomery in this one. If he doesn’t go, or is limited to a series or two, Williams is primed for a big night after working with the first team for much of the week while Montgomery was sidelined. The fourth-round pick had 14 yards on four carries last week, but with Monty iffy, the role could be expanded greatly in this one.

De’Angelo Henderson, Broncos at 49ers

Henderson led the Broncos last week in rushes (7) and yards (54) and added a touchdown. With Devontae Booker out with an injury, the carries should be there again this week against a 49ers defense that was atrocious against the run in 2016.

Wide Receiver

Dez Bryant, Dallas Cowboys vs. Indianapolis Colts

Much like Mike Evans in Week 1, this is one of those times where you plug in a starter, even though it’s likely he only plays one or two series, and watch the scoreboard light up. This is Bryant’s preseason debut and he has been extremely vocal about his determination to “put on a show” in this game. Bryant put up big numbers in his preseason debut last season, working with Dak Prescott in the quarterback’s coming out party against the Rams. It’s Dak and Dez again tonight, and Dez is practically begging you to put him in your lineup. Who are we to say no?

Phillip Dorsett, Colts at Cowboys

Dorsett was another of our preseason darlings in 2016 and he needs to be a darling this time around if he wants to stay prominent in the Colts’ receiving rotation. T.Y. Hilton is expected to start and he’s another potential candidate as a starter who maximizes his limited snaps, but Dorsett is where we want to focus here, as he needs this game for his own future. With Chester Rogers out with an injury, Dorsett is expected to soak up extra plays.

Cooper Kupp, Los Angeles Rams at Oakland Raiders

Sammy Watkins is expected to play in his Rams debut, but it should be a short stint. That keeps the door open for Kupp, who got a lucky touchdown last week by falling on a fumble in the end zone. Hey, six points are six points, and Kupp demonstrated that he’s can be a weapon in this offense with a pair of catches for 35 yards. He has sneaky upside here.

Austin Carr, Patriots at Texans

Carr and Devin Lucein were the two receivers expected to make the most noise for the Patriots this preseason, but it was Carr who was the star in Week 1 against Jacksonville. Carr made five catches on seven targets for 44 yards and a touchdown. Lucien can still be a factor, but Carr was clearly the better receiver last week and gets the nod here.

Aldrick Robinson, Kendrick Bourne, 49ers vs. Broncos

The Legend of Aldrick Robinson continued again last week. If they ever build a Preseason Hall of Fame somewhere near Canton, Robinson goes in on the first ballot. He lit up the Chiefs last week for 83 yards on two catches, and until someone stops him, he has to be in consideration. But the other 49ers receiver worth a look is Bourne, who had a team-high seven targets last week, catching four for 88 yards and a touchdown.

Tight End

Troy Niklas, Cardinals vs. Bears

The only thing holding Niklas back in his career has been injures, but he’s healthy now, has looked good in two games this preseason and had a touchdown last week. He’s going to continue to get work as the Cardinals want him to be a big part of their offense this season. Another touchdown could make him the tight end play of the night.

Martellus Bennett, Packers at Washington

There was a lot of talk this week about Bennett and Aaron Rodgers wanting to get reps together to work on their chemistry. If they do it on the field this weekend, there’s a decent chance Bennett finds the end zone.

#Daily Fantasy Sports #NFL

1 note · View note

luxintima-a-blog · 7 years

Note

“Come here, I want you kneeling in front of me.”

BDSM Kink Sentence Starters |NSFW| - @ofshieldedflame

He knew he was being punished, he’d teased Gladio earlier in the week and now that they were finally alone he’d managed to convince the other two that they could stay in the rooms for a few days. They had enough, and they could go and hunt a few things to make up for the dent it made in their funds. And they had agreed, not needing to be told that the shield fully intended on teaching their prince a lesson in teasing people to frustration and tension.

When he’d returned Noctis was in a bad way, laying on the floor and panting harshly. He wanted to say that Gladio’s ability to tie him into what had to be one of the most humiliating positions he’d ever been in. Hands were tied behind his back, and he’d managed to push himself against one of the beds in the hopes he could catch his binds on something and work them loose. Judging by his sound the other made, he was not impressed, rolling him away from the bed and sitting himself in one of the chairs in the room. For the longest time he said nothing, staring at Noctis as he writhed on the floor in an attempt to actually free himself before saying something. And when he did, it sent a jolt of adrenaline and lust through the prince that only his shield could manage to get from him.

He wanted him to kneel, and the prince took only a moment to think and comply. As quick as he could manage he rolled to his knees, walking his way across the carpeting like that. Gladio, for his part, gave a chuckle and made short work of his own pants, undoing the button and zipper that held them on muscled legs and pushing them down only so far to release his straining erection. Noctis needed no instruction, lapping at his shaft a moment before struggling to take it into his mouth without the use of his hands.

It would never be the taste he enjoyed, salty tang from sweat and just the texture of skin, he could get past, but the bitterness that came with the pre-come hitting his tongue would always have him gagging at first, before reflexes took over and his throat relaxed. That was what he’d waited for, feeling Noctis take just a bit more than he had been before his massive hand came to rest at the back of his head, curling into his hair and pushing him against the skin of his groin. At the very least he knew better than to move immediately after, holding his head flush and groaning at the feeling of the prince’s throat constricting around him.

Noctis’ reprieve didn’t last long, being dragged off him before he was pushed back down. It was an act he had to get back in the mindset of, relaxing so that he didn’t choke while he served his shield. All he needed to do was breath and stay still, and with any luck he’d be rewarded. He would get a treat later, but for now he was content to remain on his knees.

A groan from Gladio drew him back, pulled back down flush to him a moment before the massive man started bucking up, holding his head still as he fucked into his mouth with reckless abandon. Rapid fire thrusts and moans turned into sharp and bruising ones, before he was crushed against him and a hot load was released into his mouth. He swallowed as much as he could, tongue working at the underside of his cock and keeping as much of his seed as he could manage in his mouth. But for all his work, he couldn’t keep it all, and the moment he pulled out saliva and cum dripped down his chin and fell in heavy drops to the floor. Enough to keep his sir interested, as his hands were freed and he was allowed to stand long enough to strip him of his clothing.

The second he was free of everything, he was pushed to the chair that just a moment ago the other had been occupying, crouched on it with hands on the back of the seat in preparation for what was sure to be a bruising session of lust and lessons. It was worth it, and exactly what the prince had been aiming for when he’d given his shield half of a blowjob in the car one day that week as well as when he’d been sure to grid his ass against the other’s groin.

Worth every second, especially as he heard the unmistakable sound of the lube’s cap opening. He wasn’t prepared for just how roughly Gladio shoved fingers into him, not starting with one but immediately jumping to two and drawing a wail out of the monarch. It’d hurt a little, not that he’d minded because he knew the other would never cause him actual harm, but for an unprepared body, the two digits had him moaning and pushing back against the hand.

Only for it to withdraw when he did.

When he stilled they would come back, and it only took a few more tries before he learned that he wasn’t to seek out his pleasure. Staying as still as he could manage, Noctis let Gladio prepare him, fingers roughly jammed right up to the knuckle and scissored apart, intentionally avoiding the spot that would have him crumpling. Two weren’t the end of it though, a pause to allow him to grow used to the feeling, before he added another. More than he’d tried before, and it his eyes watering, begging in no uncertain terms, “Please sir! Punish me please. I did wrong, please sir...”

He won out in the end, being divested of his fingers before he felt the familiar weight of Gladio behind him, pressing barely against his twitching entrance. He went no further though, leaning over his pet instead and pulling harshly on his hair. ‘What do you want me to do, prince? Tell me what you want.’

He tried to force his hand, thrusting backwards only to miss his mark and nearly slide knees off the chair. It earned him a rough tug on his hair, with a growl from the other. “F-fuck me sir... I want you to fuck me like you mean it. Make me yours, and fill me please.”

Not a moment passed before Gladio slammed into him, using the moment that his mouth opened to voice his pleasure to shove fingers in. The pace was brutal, each thrust pushing him forward until he was pushed all the way against the chair. He knew where to hit, how hard to thrust to catch the spot that would set off the prince and he was sure to hit it each time he pushed forward. Would that he be given the chance to come, but his other hand had snaked around his nude hips to grab painfully at the base of his cock, enough pressure to have him crying out at the unfairness of it all, while avoiding biting down on the hand that had wedged open his mouth.

It was what he wanted, feeling Gladio’s erratic drives into his warmth, stretching his insides around the shaft he could by no means get enough of. It felt so good, so much so that he was drooling despite himself and moaning like he was some common lay. Every noise he made had his lover ramming into him harder, drawing more shrieks and cries out of him. It was a drug for both of them, and one they couldn’t ignore.

Noctis knew that he was getting close by how uneven his rhythm was, sometimes fast and shallow and other times hard and punishingly slow. One such thrust was especially hard, hands moving to hold down on his hips while he pushed up into the crown prince like he could reach further if he only just tried, groaning as he came again and released his seed. Would that he had allowed his sub to join him, but they were not done for the evening yet, the shield taking just a moment to regain his breath, before he moved them.

Making sure that he did not slide free of Noctis, he moved them both to the bed and sat himself up against the headboard, spreading Noctis’ legs wide and giving a violent thrust, setting a slow pace. Every single one had the prince screaming his name, and had he not wrapped ankles around his own legs and held onto his arms, he likely would have squirmed until he’d been face down on the bed. But as it was he had no escape, impaled on his girth and wanting nothing more than to be allowed to find his release. He knew better, though there was no hand preventing it, he knew better than to come without permission.

All he could do was sit there, allow him to fuck into his hole until he was satisfied, which he seemed intent on dragging out as long as possible. He would stop, holding him close as Gladio came back down from his release before starting again, always sure to lay hands on Noctis’ own erection and stroke him to keep his toy excited until he started again. What couldn’t have been any more than a score of minutes felt like an eternity of torture to him, until lazy thrusts came accompanied with a whisper.

‘Come with me. I want to hear you scream my name so everyone in the motel knows who fucks you right.’

It was all he could do to nod, his name falling from untouched lips as he was again used as a sleeve for him, held down hard enough that there would be bruises on his hips come morning, but not caring in the slightest. All he cared for was the hot wash of Gladio’s release hitting him, his own white hot pleasure drawing his shield’s name in a scream from his lips as he twitched. White ropes of his own come hit his stomach, clenching down on Gladio as his lover, his shield waits for him to come down enough to move them.

While Noctis would have liked nothing more than to roll over and sleep as he was, his muscle bound guardian knew that cleaning now meant less issue later. Through his post sex haze Noctis only remembered part of it, though he didn’t need to know every step so much as knowing that the amount of care he was given showed just how much the other knew what it took out of him. He was cradled in strong arms and taken care of, small kisses pressed to his temple and hair.

The next he knew, he was laying under the covers of the other bed, Gladio putting distance between what they’d done on one side and what they would do on the other. Despite the ferocity with which Gladio had taken him, he knew that there had never been danger, the man was kind and gentle when they were done, aware of how easily he could have taken it too far. It was that thought that had him sitting up, wincing slightly as his strained muscles made themselves known.

Five second was all it took for him to find the other, stripping out of soiled clothing and pulling the smaller man into his arms. Another kiss, square on the lips that had Noctis melting against him, followed by more on his shoulders and neck. It was that, the actions of praise and affection that he was given that had him slipping into blissful sleep, clean and satisfied like he hadn’t been for some time.

What he would miss is all that was said after he slipped under, promises to keep him safe from harm and the roving eyes of any that thought they could enjoy his company. He was protective, and none would touch his prince. Even if they didn’t last long, no one would harm a single hair on his head.

#gladnoct #ofshieldedflame #;;nsfw #;;glaives

8 notes · View notes

biofunmy · 5 years

Text

Woodstock 1969: A Story Vastly Bigger Than Editors Realized

The other articles, all crammed on to page 25, included a “Man in the News” profile of Max Yasgur, Reeves’s piece about the festival’s financial woes and another with the headline, “Bethel Pilgrims Smoke ‘Grass’ and Some Take LSD to ‘Groove.’” From nearby Monticello, Michael T. Kaufman wrote a piece about how the residents of the largest town in the area banded together to help “the sick, the hungry and the marooned.” The description of the music, in a review by The Times’s rock critic, Mike Jahn, was buried at the bottom of the page. His favorite performance belonged to Sly & the Family Stone.

The group, which is led by a former San Francisco disk jockey, Sylvester (“Sly”) Stone, has artfully risen above the mass of soul bands by using melody styles vastly different from what is usual in soul music.

The best example of the group’s sound fusion is “Everyday People,” its song about brotherhood, which became one of the most popular records released this year. Sly and the Family Stone has managed to combine a happy-sounding melody line with an infectious and very danceable soul beat.

The crowd here responded many times more warmly than to any of the groups or individuals that appeared earlier.”

Aug. 18, 1969

‘Morning After at Bethel’

On Tuesday, The Times editorial page weighed in. Shakespeare was quoted.

Now that Bethel has shrunk back to the dimensions of a Catskills village and most of the 300,000 young people who made it a “scene” have returned to their homes, the rock festival begins to take on the quality of a social phenomenon, comparable to the Tulipmania or the Children’s Crusade. And in spite of the prevalence of drugs — sales were made openly, and “you could get stoned just there breathing,” a student gleefully reported — it was essentially a phenomenon of innocence.

The music itself was surely a prime attraction. Where else could aficionados of rock expect to hear in one place Sly and the Family Stone, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Jefferson Airplane and those other lineal descendants of the primeval Beatles?

Yet it is hardly credible that they should have turned out in such vast numbers and endured, patiently and in good humor, the discomforts of mud, rain, hunger and thirst solely to hear bands they could hear on recordings in the comfort of home. They came, it seems, to enjoy their own society, free to exult in a life style that is its own declaration of independence. To such a purpose a little hardship could only be an added attraction.

***

Five thousand people were treated for injuries, illness and an excess of drugs. One hundred arrests were made on drug charges. And for three days traffic was tied in knots — for most of the rebels against the consumers’ society have cars.

By adult standards the occasion was clearly a disaster, an outrageous upset of all normal patterns. Yet the young people’s conduct, in the end, earned them a salute from Monticello’s police chief as “the most courteous, considerate and well-behaved group of kids he had ever dealt with.

Perhaps it was just the communal discomfort, that whiff of danger, that they needed to feel united and at peace. For comrades-in-rock, like comrades-in-arms, need great days to remember and embroider. With Henry the Fifth they could say at Bethel, “He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, will stand a tiptoe when this is nam’d.”

Aug. 25, 1969

‘Woodstock: Like It Was in Words of Participants at Musical Fair’

A week after Woodstock ended, perhaps after recognizing that the original news coverage may have leaned a bit too much into the traffic jams, the mud and the drugs, and ignored what it was now calling “the most ambitious music festival ever held,” The Times ran another front-page article. Gelb wrote that he had “the sense that something of considerable significance had taken place — but what?” To unpack that significance, the paper assembled six attendees for a round-table conversation — five men, one woman, ranging in age from 16 to 22. Gelb even joined the four reporters to conduct the interview, which lasted two and a half hours. The resulting piece came with a disclaimer:

“Because of the wishes of some of the parents — or, in one case, because a participant was on probation for a drug offense — the full names of the young people are withheld.”

After the Woodstock attendees talked about why they went and their impressions of the scene — Lindsey, “a 16-year-old junior at one of the city’s better private schools,” said the music drew her there and she was blown away by the atmosphere — the conversation turned to drugs. And the paper performed some Times-splaining:

All the panel participants carried some kind of drug to the festival — mostly marijuana (known as “grass” or “pot.”) But there was also hashish (abbreviated as “hash”), barbiturates (“downs”) and LSD (called “acid” after its chemical name, lysergic acid diethylamide).

On the way to Bethel, the participants worried about being searched by the police. Once concealed drugs in a hollowed-out arm rest of a car; another hid his on the floor, reading to ram it through a hole if a search began. A third said he was prepared to hide his in his underwear and demand that the officers produce a warrant made out in his name. None was searched.

Once they reached the festival their caution evaporated in the air made sweetish by thousands of burning “joints” (cigarettes hand-filled with marijuana). Anything they didn’t bring seemed to be readily available, even heroin (called “skag”) though none of the participants actually sought or saw any.

Not infrequently drugs were given away by young people eager to share. What couldn’t be had free could be bought from dealers roaming freely through the crowd, or others who stayed back in the woods on what they took to calling “High Street.”

Most of the participants regarded the drugs as an essential part of the scene — like flags at a Fourth of July celebration.

What The Times called “conflicting themes of alienation and commitment” were woven throughout the conversation, as the other attendees, all from “comfortable middle-class backgrounds,” weighed in.

Some of the young people had taken part in the political fervor that culminated in last year’s Democratic convention in Chicago. Some had been in peace marches and campus protests. One of the boys had spent his Easter vacation rebuilding the run-down house of a poor black family. But there was also the temptation of living a life of comfort free from “too much responsibility.”

Judy. There were so many people there, I thought, wow, wouldn’t it be a good idea if we could show our power by, you know, getting political. And then I thought a little more about it and I said, oh, what for? It’s already here. We already know it, we haven’t got to bother.

Dan. I think it was apolitical, if anything. Chicago was very political. Woodstock was just like government and politics just didn’t exist.

Jimmy. But although they didn’t exist up there in Woodstock, people were very aware. Like whenever Joan Baez said anything about, you know, about the laws that do exist, whether they were being put into effect at Woodstock or not, the fact that they do exist was not forgotten by anybody.

Bill. Oh yes. There was evidence of outside politics. I mean you saw the Army and you thought of Vietnam and things like that. I mean when I saw the helicopters landing and picking up the wounded, it reminded me of Vietnam.

Sept. 7, 1969

‘Mike Lang (groovy kid from Brooklyn) plus John Roberts (unlimited capital) equals Woodstock’

Several weeks later, Mr. Reeves, who would go on to write critically acclaimed books about John F. Kennedy and Richard M. Nixon, delivered a lengthy piece for the Sunday magazine that evoked the New Journalism then revolutionizing magazine writing. He used his incredible behind-the-scenes access at the festival to capture the frayed relationship among the organizers, as Woodstock Ventures careened toward $1.3 million in debt.

Here comes Mike Lang! He’s rolling along the New Jersey Turnpike in a U-Haul truck filled with a few thousand psychedelic posters and other salable stuff. The kid from Brooklyn is coming home from Florida, 23 years old, curly brown hair down to his shoulders, Indian vest and dungarees. Groovy! February, 1968. Look out, New York! Look out, America.” Look out, John Roberts!

There’s John Roberts in his apartment on East 85th Street. Same age as Mike, horn-rimmed glasses, Rogers Peet suit. At 25 he’ll inherit the first million dollars from the Polident trust fund. Outasight! A year ago he and a friend put that advertisement in The New York Times: “Young men with unlimited capital looking for interesting and legitimate business enterprises.”

Beautiful! There were 1,400 replies, including one from the man with the flying car and another from the lady with a formula for watermelon-flavored Popsicles.

Mike and John were meant for each other, poet and patron. Sorry, Popsicle lovers, but Mike got most of that unlimited capital. He had an idea, the greatest happening in history — The Woodstock Music and Art Fair.

“I knew it was going to happen,” Mike said the other day as his white Porsche stopped in front of the Plaza. “Even before I found his money, I knew it was going down. I have this sense of time.”

“Mike’s from another planet,” said the lank redhead with him as men stopped to watch her climb up out of the little car. “He has these two bumps on his head, like horns. And funny leprechaun ears and eyes that slant up.”

Nov. 6, 1969

‘Woodstock Festival Costs Bethel Official His Post’

Woodstock has continued to reverberate throughout the ensuing decades, as the event took on almost mythic qualities. But there were some more down-to-earth, and much more local, repercussions, soon after the festival, as this Associated Press article in The Times made clear.

The Democratic Supervisor of the Town of Bethel lost a re-election bid by eight votes yesterday after a campaign with one issue — the massive rock festival last summer.

Daniel Amatucci has permitted the Woodstock Music and Art Festival to be held in Bethel. About 300,000 young people descended on the tiny Catskill Mountain community.

Mr. Amatucci lost 598-590.

Sahred From Source link Arts

from WordPress http://bit.ly/2ONhFh2 via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes

visionnepal3-blog · 5 years

Text

Los Angeles Rams at New Orleans Saints: Win-loss predictions for Week 9 - Turf Show Times

After a short stint at home, the Los Angeles Rams (8-0) are back on the road in Week 9 — heading east to take on the NFC South leading New Orleans Saints (6-1), in what is looking to be their toughest match of the year.

The Rams have been a very good road team since Sean McVay has taken over as head coach, but winning in front of a raucous crowd in the Superdome won’t come easy.

Do the Rams have what it takes to make it nine straight and remain undefeated on the year? The Turf Show Times staff make their predictions...

gorams (@AndrewKulick)

Is the Saints offense better than the Rams? No

Is this Saints defense better than the Rams? Absolutely No

Is the Saints special teams better than the Rams? Absolutely No

Is the Dome any different than playing at home in the Coliseum before a hostile crowd? No

The answers to these questions speaks volumes in the lack of faith any TST staffer has if they’re picking the Saints against in the best team in the NFL.

Rams will crush New Orleans and finally silence the non-believers.

Prediction: Rams win, 45-23

Charlie Hiller (@charliehiller)

This is the game of the year for the NFC. For the most part, we all thought the NFC had about 6 teams that could reasonably win the conference. 8 weeks into the season and now it feels like it’s bound to be the Rams or the Saints playing in February. And what’s more fun than watching two offensive powerhouses playing against defenses that are totally liable to disappear! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a 60-point over under before. I’d probably take the over anyway

Prediction: Rams win, 37-34

Eddie Perez (@iAmEddieP_)

Rams are facing off against another elite QB this week in the form of Drew Brees. Brees also happens to have one of the brightest young receivers as well in Michael Thomas (no, not OUR Mike Thomas, the better one) and RB extraordinaire Alvin Kamara. It will be a tough task for the Rams defense to contain all of those weapons.

I chose the Rams to fall last week, and I emerged wrong. Cool. Prove me wrong again, Rams. I’ll pick Drew Brees & the Saints.

Prediction: Saints win, 31-28

Eric Nagel (@Eric_nagel)

Let’s keep it rolling! Either that or we lose. Which is less ideal than winning.

Prediction: Rams win, 30-27

Skye Sverdlin (@skyeattolah)

I can definitely see our inconsistent corner play being an issue in the Superdome, and the Saints giving the Rams their first bad week of the season in a high scoring affair. On the other hand, it seems like shootouts often don’t fully live up to expectations and perhaps the Rams will control pace with Todd Gurley this week. I also think that Wade’s been saving some ways to generate pressure via the blitz for this one. Who knows, but...

Prediction: Rams win, 27-26

Kristian Ramirez (@KristianRamirez)

I originally was going to stick to my original prediction that this would be the first L for the Rams. But with the news that The Rams are gaining a new pass rusher and the Saints are losing one to injury, it might be enough to give the Rams the edge. Really, I just don’t want the undefeated streak to end.

Prediction: Rams win, 33-30

TG50 (@MrTimGodfrey)

After narrowly beating the Green Bay Packers, the road game to New Orleans is a godsend right now. The Rams need a little road trip to clear their heads and get back to rolling people. What better place to get your mind right than Nawlins? The birthplace of Mardi Gras and peeing in the street (one of those is right). The Saints have the No. 1 rushing defense and allow the lowest YPG (74.1) and YPC (3.2), so Gurley could be a more active contributor to the passing game. Goff will face another tough test against an improving Saints pass-D and new Saint Eli Apple. The Rams will need their starters to play their best game on Sunday.

Which means depth guys like Johny Kelly and Justin Davis can get absolutely wrecked on Bourbon Street. Get some gourmet hot dogs, hurricanes in those massive QT travel mugs and have a ball.

Prediction: Rams win, 33-30

Elijah Kim (@Big_EZK)

The Rams head to New Orleans to face Drew Brees and the Saints potent offense. While the Rams are all-in, evident further by adding pass-rusher EDGE Dante Fowler giving the Rams a multitude of first round pass rushers (Aaron Donald, Michael Brockers, Ndamukong Suh, and now Fowler), the Saints are no joke with their explosive offensive weapons like Alvin Kamara and Michael Thomas and their improving defense lead by a strong Ohio State secondary featuring Vonn Bell, Marshon Lattimore, and now Eli Apple.

Ultimately, the home field advantage proves to be the difference and “Dome Sweet Dome” prevails for Who Dat nation. The Saints win a very close shootout.

Prediction: Saints win, 38-35

Michael Frank (@turfshowtimesmike)

What stands out is that the Vikings put up 450 yards of offense on the Saints on the road. Rams survived the trap game vs. Denver, beat the Powerhouse (yes, powerhouse) Aaron Rodgers and the Packers fresh off the bye, so I can see the Rams back in full force to win. The momentum is with the Rams. The Saints are an extremely dangerous team but have the worst pass defense in the NFL. Saints are at home, but the Rams will be on turf too.

Prediction: Rams win, 38-31

Brennan Smith (@BrennanJSmith)

I predicted a few weeks ago that this would be the Rams’ first loss of the season and I won’t deviate from that now. Drew Brees passed for only 120 yards last week, but New Orleans found other ways to win with turnovers. New Orleans seems to be getting hot at the right time and the Rams will be stretched to defend Michael Thomas, Alvin Kamara and Mark Ingram. I envision Thomas burning an over aggressive Marcus Peters and Kamara slipping out of the backfield for a few big gains. Potentially having Cooper Kupp back will be a boost offensively and Todd Gurley should have another big performance, but the Saints at home will edge LA and hand the Rams their first loss.

Prediction: Saints win, 42-35

Sosa Kremenjas (@QBsMVP)

This is going to be a showdown of two great teams. Obviously this game will have major playoff implications down the road in the NFC, so regardless of how early it is in the season, it’ll be extremely important. The Rams need to do everything they can to limit Alvin Kamara and Michael Thomas defensively, though I do think their offense will be able to carry them by scoring a bunch against a vulnerable Saints defense.

Prediction: Rams win, 38-35

seattlerams (@seattlerams_nfl)

The Rams are 11-1 on the road in the Sean McVay era, with their lone loss at the hands of a team with an outstanding defense (something the Saints do not have.) Combine that with Cooper Kupp’s return (we hope) and the fact that there is nobody in the NFL that I want to see embarrassed at home more than I do Sean Payton, I’m taking the Rams in a laugher.

Prediction: Rams win, 48-17

Sean Wilkinson (@Papa_Lurch)

The Rams have their second tough game in a row this week against the Saints. While the Saints defense has zero chance to slow down the Rams, that Drew Brees guy is pretty good too. The Rams defense has struggled allowing big plays this year and Brees is likely to exploit that at every opportunity.

I expect another high scoring affair, but I think the Rams come out on top in another exciting game.

Prediction: Rams win, 41-31

3k (@3k_)

This warm and hearty Speckled Butter Bean, Okra, Lamb Soup delivers on Southern flavors, and when topped with rosemary cornbread, it is a filling dish.

Prediction: Saints win, 34-30

Brandon Bate (@NoPlanB_)

Unless I see a pretty drastic improvement in play from the Philadelphia Eagles, this may be the only loss I predict for the Rams all year. I had originally pegged them for four losses back in September (though I’ve yet to pick against them through Week 8), but they certainly look like a 14(+) win team.

It’s a road game in front of a rowdy crowd. The Saints are going to put up a lot of points. And honestly, it’s just difficult for me to pick the Rams to win 16. Might come down to a late 4th quarter field goal, but I’m taking the Saints in a close one.

Wouldn’t shock me in the slightest if the Rams pull this out. And if they do, you can probably expect me to predict their next loss in Week 17, when Sean Mannion & Co. take the field.

Prediction: Saints win, 38-35

Source: https://www.turfshowtimes.com/2018/11/1/18049474/los-angeles-rams-vs-new-orleans-saints-week-9-nfl-expert-picks-final-score-predictions

0 notes

junker-town · 6 years

Text

The perfect match for 7 top NFL free agents (and Nick Foles)

We played matchmaker, and one potential landing spot makes all the sense in the world for Kirk Cousins.

Free agency begins on March 14 and before it does, many of the players close to hitting the open market will get re-signed. Drew Brees, for example, probably isn’t going anywhere, despite the Saints cutting it awfully close.

But quarterback Kirk Cousins and other NFL veterans will be up for bidding soon.

Cousins has a chance at a record-setting contract that just a few teams have the cap space to afford. The rest of the players in the free agent market could go just about anywhere with the majority of the league owning well over $20 million in available cap space.

These are seven of the top free agents this year — plus Nick Foles, a potential trade candidate — and the landing spot that would make the most sense for each of them:

Kirk Cousins, QB, Minnesota Vikings

According to odds makers, Minnesota is the likely landing spot for the blockbuster free agent of 2018. The Jets can offer money that Minnesota can’t, but the Vikings are better set up to be a contender right away with Cousins added to the mix.

“Is money a part of it? Sure. Is it the only thing? No,” Cousins told PFT Live in January. “It is about winning, and that’s what I want more than anything, so I’m going to be willing to make sacrifices or do what has to be done to make sure I’m in the best possible position to win, and that’s what the focus is going to be.”

The Vikings, Jets, Broncos and Cardinals are all expected to be the contenders for Cousins. But Minnesota is the only one from that group that was a playoff team in 2017. It’s a match that works well for both sides.

Teddy Bridgewater, QB, New York Jets

A knee injury for Bridgewater has kept him out of action for all but a few snaps in the last two seasons. So it’ll probably be difficult for the 25-year-old to find much money or an opportunity to be a franchise quarterback when he hits the open market. That makes his free agency an interesting case.

There are obvious quarterback vacancies across the NFL, and New York is one where he’d a clear path to a starting role.

What makes the Jets a perfect spot for Bridgewater is that it would likely be a short-term agreement that allows him to start in 2018 while the team identifies its quarterback of the future. Perhaps Bridgewater can prove he’s the man for the job. But even if the Jets draft a quarterback at No. 6 overall, Bridgewater can prove exactly the type of value he has and hit the market with more clarity soon.

Allen Robinson, WR, San Francisco 49ers

The Jaguars’ turnaround season in 2017 happened without Robinson, who suffered a torn ACL in Week 1. The injury is likely why the Jaguars opted not to give Robinson the franchise tag, but it probably won’t stop the 24-year-old former Pro Bowler from getting big money in free agency.

That youth and upside is exactly what the 49ers are looking for with 26-year-old Jimmy Garoppolo at the helm of a rebuild full of young players.

San Francisco locked down Marquise Goodwin to a three-year deal, but Robinson would give Garoppolo a real No. 1 on the outside and help San Francisco do real damage offensively. This team has money to spend and this is a good place to put it to use.

Sammy Watkins, WR, Tennessee Titans

The Rams might have been better off keeping their second-round pick and cornerback E.J. Gaines instead of trading the pair to the Bills for Watkins before the 2017 season started. The former top-five pick caught eight touchdowns for LA, but the team probably hoped for more than 39 receptions for 593 yards. Those were career lows for Watkins in receptions and receiving yards per game.

But just two years ago, Watkins was a 1,000-yard receiver and even during his down year with the Rams, he was still able to score touchdowns. That’d be a welcomed sight in Tennessee. The Titans finished 2017 with 14 passing touchdowns all year, with just six caught by wide receivers.

The Titans have reason to have high hopes for Corey Davis, but adding another receiver would help Marcus Mariota immensely. Watkins looks like a great fit.

Andrew Norwell, G, New York Giants

New Giants general manager Dave Gettleman was running the show in Carolina when Andrew Norwell was signed by the team as an undrafted free agent. He’d have to invest much more this time around to land the All-Pro, but the Giants can make the move and it’d perfectly fit Gettleman’s modus operandi.

Dave Gettleman loves his “hog mollies,” as he likes to call them. Expect him to go to work almost immediately on that offensive line.

— Mike Garafolo (@MikeGarafolo) December 28, 2017

The Giants finished in the bottom 10 in both rushing yards and touchdowns, which isn’t anything new for the them — they were No. 29 in rushing touchdowns in 2015, No. 32 in 2016, and No. 28 in 2017.

Norwell would provide a big boost to the offense and is exactly the type of player Gettleman would like to start his tenure by signing.

Nate Solder, T, Houston Texans

Not having Duane Brown was a problem for the Texans in 2017. The four-time Pro Bowler held out for the first six games of the year and was traded by Houston after finally returning to the lineup in Week 8.

Instead, left tackle duties fell on the shoulders of Chris Clark and fourth-round rookie Julie’n Davenport. It wasn’t a good formula for the Texans.

That’s not why Deshaun Watson suffered a season-ending ACL tear, but protecting the promising young quarterback has to be a main priority — and finding a left tackle is at the top of the checklist. The Texans don’t have a first-round pick, so free agency is the route to go. Solder would be the best option.

Trumaine Johnson, CB, Green Bay Packers

After what felt like 20 different defensive backs got injured in 2016, the Packers signed Davon House and drafted Kevin King in 2017. But the team’s pass defense still finished near the bottom of the NFL.

The depth chart looks even worse now with Damarious Randall’s trade to the Browns. The Packers might not want to pull the trigger and draft secondary help early again, either. They used their first picks in two of the last three drafts to take King and Randall, and haven’t seen much in the way of results.

The better route may be to hunt through a strong crop of free agent cornerbacks. E.J. Gaines and Rashaan Melvin are other options, but Johnson has been an upper-tier, durable cornerback for a few seasons now.

Nick Foles, QB, Buffalo Bills (via trade)

This is a bonus pairing, because Foles isn’t actually a free agent. But after winning Super Bowl MVP and becoming a valuable backup, Foles’ stock might never be higher. It’d make sense for the Eagles to cash in on a trade and move his $7.6 million cap hit elsewhere.

If Foles is on the trade market, the Bills would be a logical buyer. With Tyrod Taylor traded to the Browns, Buffalo needs an efficient pocket passer to pair with its strong defense and rushing attack. Foles fits the mold and Buffalo has the draft capital — two first-round and two second-round picks — to facilitate a deal.

It doesn’t mean they’re tied to Foles for the long haul, either. He’d be a cheap starter under contract through 2021 that the Bills could commit to if he plays well, or use as a bridge while grooming another young passer to take over. It doesn’t hurt that Foles just beat the Patriots — the kings of the AFC East and the team the Bills have to finally take down to turn the corner.

0 notes