#actually i guess i have that yard wip too. much to consider

[boonmeams]

had a moment where i realized i could return to youtube rpf. but probably only for alex ididathing and aleksa boyboy

#wonder if there's an audience for that #mite b cool #actually i guess i have that yard wip too. much to consider

[dudewhy3]

For the fanfic writer emoji ask, I dare you to answer all of them 😌

you're funny, i like you

i already answered some of them, so i'll answer the others here. thank you for the ask!!♡

😅 ✍️🍦💖🏆🤗🤩

😈 🧐🦅💞🤲✅️⌛️🤯

🥺🛒💖🌞🧠🤭

✍️🛒💋🎶❌️🍦🙋‍♀️🎨👀📚

🤡 a line/scene/moment/exchange i've written that made me laugh: the Rice Fiasco in chapter 7 of wpts and the Duck Team scene in chapter 8. fun stuff

✍️ do you have a beta reader? YOU ARE THE BETA READER AHAHAHA

🛠 what tools/programs/apps do you use to write? google docs. that's it lmao. i sometimes use the writer bot on discord, if that counts

🍷 do you drink and write? ....yeah, sometimes

🍆 do you write spicy stuff? i'm not comfortable with writing it at this point in my life welp

🎃 do you write fics for holidays? i do actually! i have a Christmas au as well as an Easter au

🎯 have any of your readers guessed any major plot points? they used to guess every plot point back in 2020, when "There for You" was a thing

🎨 how do you feel about fanart of your stories? i love and adore it whenever someone draws for my stories, you'll get crushed in internet hugs if you do that ♡

🤗 advice for new writers: write for yourself and post for the 5 to 10 people that will read and comment (not my words but they stuck with me). also try to have an outline of your stories, or a general plan. It's easier to write without getting lost this way. And take breaks. If it starts feeling like too much, take a break, go for a walk, don’t burn yourself out. It's okay, your story and your readers will still be there when you come back ♡

🧠 and you picked Sasha so: She loves literature. yeah that’s it

💌 how do you feel about comments and feedback? i love both really, it makes me happy whenever i recieve any. it makes me want to keep going and write more and update more often and it just generally fills me with joyyyy

💲 will you ever open comissions? i actually haven't thought about this yet, i'm not sure

📈 how many fics do you have? 16 and counting

👀 tell me about an up and coming wip please. well. ok. there's this university au where Armin's Grandfather is their biggest shipper, but Annie is too afraid to be honest with her feelings and they just end up hurting each other. you know. fun stuff

🤲 would you please share a snippet of your wip? already did it here, but i'll share another as a treat:

Another bit from chapter 9 of Who painted the sky?:

She steals a glance at her colleague, who’s just as unbothered as always, then goes back to watching the game just as Hitch manages to take Armin out. The boy falls dramatically, acting wounded, the children’s laughter echoing through the yard; his antics bring a smile on the host’s lips. Hannah watches as Hitch runs to her team and high fives everyone, jumping around so excitedly. In the meantime, Annie offers Armin her hand to help him up, and the boy takes it gratefully; only to pull her to the floor with him. After a moment of silently staring at each other, Armin mutters something, and the two of them start snickering. Hannah finds herself watching them closely before realising just how intimate of a moment that must be and looking away. They sure seem to share such a rare bond, however unexpected.

😬 which of your works would you be the most horrified for your friends, family, coworkers, to stumble across? all of them. they're pieces of myself that i don’t want certain people to know of

🎉 what leads you to consider a fic a success? it’s all up to how happy ot makes me really

🥰 how do you feel about reader interaction? it makes me happy whenever readers interact with my fics, be it a lengthy comment on my prose or a short 'thanks, i'm looking forward to the continuation', it always makes me very happy

#ok now THIS was a lot #but i had so much fun hahaha #thank you for the ask! #mimi tag #ask game

[fordarkisthesuede]

I got tagged by @fractualized - and I had to think about this for a while. Sorry for the delay, frac'! I pretty much felt like this all week (lol):

GIF by lostwithoutmyboswell

Ok, so we're gonna start from #5, because I decided to rate these like a loon:

#5:

Birth. Starting off on the disk horse topic of HP fanfic. Listen, regardless of how I feel about the series now (which is messy, to say the least), there's one thing I still can't help but love about it...and it's not only tiny, but half of the reasoning behind it is of my own making. It's Peeves the Poltergeist. I LOVE Peeves. He's my favorite character type - short, temperamental, powerful, 90% humor and fun, inhuman, and neither a Good nor Bad guy. I rarely used to read HP fic back in the day, but I noticed that for such a big fandom, he never had much to his name. (And what I did find was...disappointing for me.) I reread the series in 2015 for the first time in a while and did some Deep Thinking about him. What his limits are. How he's presented. Where he even came from. The bare scraps of canon and Word of God (distasteful) material pushed my buzzing brain to write about him, and eventually churned out this little origin story. I wrote several one-shots surrounding him, but this is my favorite of the bunch. In my eyes, it's simple, short, and effective in storytelling. So I like it. (^_^)

#4:

The Whole Nine Yards. Yes, my current WIP is on the favorite list. It started off as a sex-romp list, because I had too many positions and kinks I wanted John and Bruce to try. It first grew into showing Bruce/John as a couple at home, because my main fics in the Perseverance Project series don't get to show them being all lovey-dovey as much as I'd like. Then I added a few dashes of angst for character building. Then it evolved into including what AtBoM skipped over (for various reasons) - visits at Arkham showing their [growing] love and trust rebuild post-S2, and showing different sides to them.

So what we have now is: "Two guys in love met in an asylum 2.5 years ago, and less than one year after they first met, one keeps coming to visit the other. The visits' subjects are then related to current day, where they finally live together like a real couple, with all it's ups and downs, and sexy results". It's a mouthful, I know. ;D But I think it works!

It's great to explore all these things and essentially back-track a bit versus rewrite any part of AtBoM. Plus, I get to mumble about something that always interests me in this 'verse: Bruce's relationship with his parents. To go from loving them and putting them and their deaths on a pedestal to look to for inspiration to keep going on being Batman, to learning they were the biggest criminals in the city and a key reason while he's even having to be Batman... That's gotta affect how he looks at things. Like, I mentioned Bruce's dislike of his house in AtBoM and TToJ, but here it's full-force. It was a mausoleum for their memory and now it's just a means to an end. He doesn't consider it home, or even rightfully his. But John living there with him makes it a home. Their home. :')

Also, I feel like I'm playing a decorating game and a dress up game with it! Kind of like The Sims, I guess. xD John's room and summer wardrobe are fun to craft as I go. (Don't worry, you'll get to see John's classic outfit at the end. For...reasons.) Plus, soon* you'll see Bruce's bedroom revamped!

#3:

A Ghost Too Far. Disk Horse, part two. Peeves is the one thing I still wistfully sigh over and go "ah, what could have been"...all while knowing that I took the bones of my blorbo and crafted him a full body myself. It's been 7 years since I started writing this particular story, and it clocks in over 230K words. As things are now, I have no idea if I'll ever actually finish it, for a myriad of reasons. So to make a long story short (HA!):

Out of the hundreds of thousands of HP fanfics, and the handful that had Peeves as a character, I found Peeves had no proper big epic romance story of his own and decided to make him one, combining it with one big exploratory setting of How He Is, all set in 2003/2004. His destined romantic partner is an American witch (queue eyeroll), acting as a one-year-only DatDA teacher (queue harder eyeroll), who I can describe in modern** terms as a gender-non-conforming adult punk who is absolutely fascinated with ghosts. She makes it a point to study the castle ghosts, especially Peeves, as poltergeists are super rare and physical ones are apparently unheard of outside of him. She makes a deal with Peeves that he can break just about anything she owns and annoy her all he wants, in exchange for information on how he works. Which I worked out via the aforementioned HP reread and lots of Deep Thinking as literally by feeding off of (aka absorbing) magic from humans, like his "relatives" the Dementor and Boggart. Unlike them, he primarily eats high energy feelings of "anger" "sadness" and "excitement", because he was created in a castle with children who can have powerful feelings of all three very easily. Is this theory of mine presented in canon? Who fucking cares anymore, the author's dead in all senses but literal.

It might not be finished, and it might never be, but writing out this monstrosity of a theory while getting a guy like Peeves to fall in and explore love for the first time holds a special place in my heart. Because not only does Peeves reside permanently in my brain (I'm pretty sure he's the Writing Gremlin who suggests those "this is what goes painfully wrong" scenarios), but so does Dandrane, who I hand-crafted to be Peevesy's romantic partner. I love her. I owe her. Her favorite color is hot pink; because of her, I have gotten over my old feud with the color pink. I wrote her to be 30 while I was then 24; after a while, nearing/turning 30 no longer bothered me. I wrote her to be cool, confident, and a little horrible. Because we all have that bitchy little voice in our head sometimes... The desire to break something without consequences... The need to have our anger recognized rather than ignored or attempted to be placated... Dandrane is a wonderful vessel for these feelings, even after all this time.

She's my cool girl. My tall bean. My silly little flamingo. I want to put her in an enriched enclosure and watch her with a set of binoculars.

#2:

At the Brink of Midnight. My most popular fic is second-place in my heart, at this current hour. (Ha!) For reasons I'm sure you long-time readers already guessed, that I have mentioned time and again in it's author notes: this fic was FUN to make!!!

The Halloween setting! The fresh takes on Scarecrow and Poison Ivy! John recreating Joker! Bruce rescuing John! Bruce finally hugging John! THE CONFESSION SCENE! A rave scene in a graveyard!!! Batman and Joker teaming up to kick ass!!!!!

It's! So! Great!!! It's not too long, but still a big novel-length! Easy to read and get lost in! It presents an original character who carries the possibility of redemption! It hits all those story beats I craved to see for a Season 3! Hell, even now I'd be hard pressed not to expect to see Dr. Crane in any potential sequel we'd get IRL!

Are there things I'd change? Sure. But nothing major. I'm still happy with it, even 4 years later. Maybe part of my love for it is also a desire to be able to pump out 110K words within a few months again...

#1:

The Tolls of Justice!

Is it my most popular fic? Nah, it's #2. But it's my #1. The king of my heart. It took 2-and-a-half years to finish, in no small part because 2020 was a bitch. And despite the frustration at writer's block, despite the silly errors that I still need to go back and fix, and despite the time it took...God, I LOVE it.

Whenever I reread part of it, I get sucked in and read more than I meant to. I know the majority of the little notes I made, but whenever I read one of the tarot hints I can't help but go ehe he he. I read John's breakdown in Arkham, and his transformation into what is his final form of vigilante!Joker, and I still tear up. I see the theme of a writer playing God, of having a defined inescapable ending but proving that choices still matter, and just sit with it in utter delight.

I have many favorite moments: Tiffany and John's day out, the entirety of the Wayne Gala, John and Iman's investigation at the theater, Batman's descent into the Court of Owls' secret lair with Robin... But I have a favorite bit. It's the kind of thing I giggle over while kicking my legs in my seat.

So in Chapter 12, Batman and Joker are having a few moments together before the Big Battle in the high tier of seats above the main floor/"stage area", able to watch the Court of Owls' mock-trial below. In theaters, the highest tier is sometimes known as "the gods" seats.

As my version of the CoO has their whole thing built on "our God wrote down our destiny exactly and the Evil God keeps causing chaos to interfere", and considering the DC multiverses and that Batman and Joker are constantly in them, and as Bats and Jokes are generally simplified as "Order and Chaos"... They're figuratively 'gods' in "the gods" seats watching the show below. ౧(*മ് ധമ്)੭ु⁾⁾

As for WIPs, I only have 2 at the moment. I use OneNote to write all my ideas for it (when I'm actually writing them down):

As you can see, I have sections for The Whole Nine Yards (abbreviated "W9Y" in notes only) and the untitled "BtTTS S5" below. (The "After Hours" is just IRL work notes, when I had to use my personal PC for work in 2020, and "Noir "is literally a list of film noir movies I'm keen to watch. I've been really into them lately!)

Right now S5's notepad only has 2 sections - the Thinkbox and "J Tech". The Thinkbox pages are pretty much the brainstorm dumping ground...but TWNY's is actually laid out rather nicely, like this. I'd post a screenshot, but then this post would...uh, turn nsfw... (; ' o' )

Right now, the only WIP word docs are here, in my "BtTTS - The Perseverance Project" folder:

As for tagging...hm. Um... Since it was frac' who tagged me... I choose @distort-opia, if they're so inclined! (And anyone else who wants to!) Edit: I am a fool who does not reread properly. 😭 Sorry hun, you already did it! So field's wide open!!!

*at the time of this posting, TWNY Chapter 7 is still in progress. It's 2/3rds of the way done! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

**at the time of writing the story in question, the term "gender non-conforming" was not known about as widely as it is now; basically, I knew what it was without knowing what it was called.

#fanfic #telltale batman #batman the telltale series #hp fanfic #hp #fanfiction #my wips #juce #batjokes #peeves the poltergeist #long post #fractualized #bttts #self rec #wip challenge #fuck jkr

[astrodances]

Is it possible to get an excerpt of Thief Scrooge pickpocketing wallets? Or even Goldie pickpocketing wallets?

Oh, I don't have any excerpts of them pickpocketing for the AU (although oddly enough the non-AU WIP that I've been not working on since pretty much the finale features pickpocketing, in a very small, special way, but anyway...). What I wrote in my last answer was all on the fly, so I could do that here, too, for a quick scene (and hopefully to get my writing going again). No guarantee though that this will ever show up in a future fic - consider it a standalone unless proven otherwise. ;P Also, this probably isn't exactly what you're asking for in terms of them pickpocketing, but of all the ideas from my last answer, this was the one that excited me the most.

Anywho, hope you enjoy!

*** I guess I should say this is rated teen and up for kissing and some suggestive physical affection? Yeah. ***

Also I'm putting in a "read more" for the aforementioned rating and because this actually got away from me a little bit with the length.

___________

Scrooge couldn't stop grinning.

Sure, the feeling of exhilaration wasn't as strong as the first time he'd done it and his conscience was still waving a tattered red flag in the back of his mind ("Both will subside with experience," Goldie had assured him), but he was proud of how far he'd come.

"Did ye see me?" he asked his partner as they navigated the cacti and brush of the desert back to their current hideout camp, the sun providing just enough light for them to get back in time to make a fire. They were far enough away from town now to not have to keep an eye over their shoulders for any potential accusers.

"Oh, I saw. Way to go, tiger," Goldie answered, a small grin of her own forming, her hands tucked into her vest pockets.

She really was impressed.

They'd been leaving the local saloon after a quick bite and a listen for any chatter of potential targets, and as a pair of cowboys strolled in, Scrooge had given them a tip of the hat. But only Goldie saw the way his other hand kept low and gently "brushed" the pockets of the nearest cowboy's duster, without so much as disturbing the dust.

It'd been his smoothest pickpocketing to date, as if all their lessons had finally clicked into place for him.

They'd make a thief of him yet, but not quite yet.

If only Scrooge knew that his prize, a roll of dollar bills secured by a black string, which he'd been so eager to flash at her as soon as they'd reach the edge of town, now laid tucked into the secret inner pocket of Goldie's vest, courtesy of the master's nimble hands themselves.

And if only Goldie knew that Scrooge knew what she'd done.

He knew he still had a lot to learn about thievery, especially to catch up to her level, but sometimes he wished that she would just let him enjoy his victory with no need to prove himself further by stealing his prize from her again, for once.

But if that's the way she wanted it? Fine. He never could resist a challenge, especially from her.

The maze of cacti continued, and Scrooge used that as an excuse to walk closer to Goldie, to avoid one of the prickly plants and to reach his hand out to the left pocket of her pants for his first guess, making sure to keep a half-step behind her.

Just as he was about to make his move though, Goldie took an extra quick step forward, causing him to stumble behind her. He caught his footing, and shot a glance her way. She kept walking as if nothing happened, save for the telltale smirk playing on her beak.

Oh, she knew that he knew, and she was enjoying every second of it.

In the silence of the desert, the sound of their footsteps was impossible to miss. The second that she heard Scrooge begin to follow after her again, her pace quickened, but she otherwise remained unchanged in her stance or her path.

He caught up to her easily, and Goldie nearly shrieked with laughter when she felt his hand brush against her back. But at the last second, she stepped to the left and kept going, and Scrooge came face-to-face with a cactus arm that would've blinded him had he not had the reflexes he did. He spun out and away from it, letting out a very startled swear in Gaelic, and took a moment to reassure himself of his wellbeing.

"You're gonna have to do more than that to find it this time!" Goldie called out to him, her voice laced with playful innuendo, the challenge now well-defined.

She had nearly ten yards on him now, but the moment he took off running, a growl rumbling in the back of his throat, so did she.

The chase carried on almost all the way to their camp.

Goldie was nearly in the clear, too, but in the waning remnants of daylight, coupled with her growing desire to declare herself the victor and finally get some rest around the fire, she erred. Her boot slipped on a rock that she thought was stable enough to use as a stepping stone over a wild hedge of desert flora, and instead of leaping over it all and thus finding a shortcut, Goldie found herself falling face-first towards a very spiny barrel cactus.

She shut her eyes in anticipation, adrenaline rushing through her heart as she entered free-fall, hoping that her hands might at least break her fall a bit. She'd rather deal with a couple of wrist injuries rather than a face-full of cactus needles.

At this point, she'd rather have just let Scrooge keep his stupid money.

Inches away from agony, Goldie felt a yank jolt through her system, causing her to yelp and open her eyes to see just how close she really was to the cactus (way, way too close). A second later, and she felt her shaking form being pulled back by the scruff of her vest into strong, enveloping arms on stable ground.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Scrooge teased, and despite herself, Goldie snorted at the joke. "You okay?" he whispered, and after a hesitant, but affirming nod, he added, "Good."

Still, neither made a move to leave the embrace, and after a moment, Goldie's eyelids fluttered closed when she felt Scrooge peppering kisses down the side of her neck. She could get used to this...

So distracted as she was that she failed to notice Scrooge's roaming hands sneaking past the buttons of her vest and into her not-so-secret pocket until his arm suddenly wasn't there to hold her anymore and she realized, belatedly, that he'd known.

Even as she turned around in his remaining arm and tried desperately to grab the other that was now out of reach (whether she wanted it back for the stolen money or the warmth more, she wasn't sure), Goldie couldn't stop the quip on her beak. "You think you're so clever, don't you?"

Scrooge managed a shrug, holding her that much tighter while maintaining that frustratingly cute grin of his. "What can I say? I have a great teacher."

In the span of another kiss, the money disappeared from view, and Goldie found two arms holding her close once again.

All in all, he was learning his lessons very well.

#Astro answers #DuckTales #Scrooge McDuck #Goldie O'Gilt #scroldie #Diamond Thieves AU #it's been months since I've written anything like this but this felt good

[fanfictrashdump]

Queening a Pawn, 22

If you’re new: this is my procrastination fic. It is what I drabble around with when I’m being my worst self, and ignoring all my other WIPs and responsibilities! Enjoy!

X

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Pairings: Loki x OC

WARNINGS: Language, fighting, swords, impending doom, nervous throwing up, and entirely fictional traditions that are just... so dumb.

=

It was the clinking noise of metal on metal that caught her attention first. The situation pretty much snowballed from there, but the noise was the first indication.

Delilah had been busy staring at her computer. She was finishing her fiscal year end reports, much to her utter dismay. The only glittering spot in her day had been the unusual side effect from Loki and hers exchange of jewelry. Throughout the day, Delilah would get sucked in by the pleasant buzz in the back of her skull when Loki had a particularly strong emotion. The god could make all of the excuses he wanted about how he felt nonchalant about the children, but the utter fondness that flooded her system most of her work day was the only indication that he was a big fat liar. She had been in the midst of a most pleasant flood of endorphin-filled fondness when the noise pulled her out of her head. Her name in a shout followed immediately after.

"Delilah Vázquez!"

When Delilah glanced up from the copier, she was greeted by the sight of Brunnhilde, in her full Asgardian royal armor and Uru crown. In her hand, she wielded a broadsword, though Dragonfang was sheathed on her hip. The tip of the sword swayed ominously towards her, the warrioress staring her down with intimidating focus. Delilah didn't exactly noticed when she started running, but she was damn sure she was not going to stop.

"DELILAH!"

Pumping her arms, she continued running down the corridor a good thirty paces ahead of Valkyrie. She hated admitting it, but the occasional workout Loki made her do with him was probably the only reason she wasn't a panting, sweaty mess being skewered on the end of a broadsword right now. Lilah knew that she needed to get to the common room. Sam and Bucky had returned from another mission two days ago, so they were probably taking it easy for the next few days. If she could find them–clunk clunk

The heavy footsteps were gaining on her as she skidded into the living room. Bucky jumped, startled out of his nap by the ruckus. He noted only the blurred outline of Delilah running past and ducking behind his chair, but when he finally saw Valkyrie, he took up a defensive pose.

"Out of my way Barnes!" Valkyrie grumbled through clenched teeth. "I came a long way for this, this armor is killing me. Move!"

"Are you out of your damn mind!?"

"Now, Barnes!" When he remained rooted to the spot, she half-heartedly swung the sword in his direction. He parried the blow with his modified arm, engaging her into close combat while Delilah slipped away in the background.

Her escape was not unseen, though Bucky did his best to keep the Asgardian King at bay before he was knocked through several doors with a well-placed kick of her armored boot.

Delilah backed into one of the empty storage rooms. She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of her labored breathing. Maybe if she was quiet enough, and kept to the walls, the Valkyrie would think she had run out the emergency staircase. Her hope was short lived, however, the door to the storage room was kicked open with a boom. Quiet as could be, Lilah lowered herself between two empty rows of metal shelves and closed her eyes tightly. And for a moment, her plan was working.

"There you are!"

Emerald eyes snapped open to see the figure of Valkyrie backlit by the harsh, white light of the storage room bulbs. Trembling, Delilah began crawling backwards, mentally calculating her probabilities of making it out before Brunnhilde caught up to her.

A clatter made her start. At her feet, Valkyries sword, Dragonfang, shook and settled while it emitted a harmonious hum. Delilah looked from the sword to the King for a mite too long, it seemed. "Pick it up! Full armor chafes!"

"I-I don't know how–"

"Pick it up and fight me! My laws demand it for satisfaction!" With tentative movements, she grasped the pommel and closed her hand around the grip. "Oh, Norns your grip is fucking awful. Who taught you to swordfight?"

"No one! I don't know how!" Delilah snapped back, lifting the point of the sword off the ground. Her free hand went up to the runic medallions resting on her collarbone. For a protective talisman, they weren't doing a hell of a lot in the way of protecting.

Valkyrie rolled her eyes and raised her own weapon. "You and I will have short battle for the purpose of satisfying our ancient laws in regards to trysts with members of the Royal Family. Do you understand what is required of you? Yes? Great, let's begin."

Before Delilah could even protest that this wasn't being fair to her, Valkyrie had swept her weapon straight down, meeting Dragonfang in her grasp and making her arm shudder all the way to her marrow. With a yelp, Delilah jumped back, trying as hard as she could to avoid the Asgardian's blows. She had successfully pushed the King back and made a short run for it before Valkyrie leapt and landed just short of blocking her path.

The thought that she was going to die crossed Delilah's brain at that instant. As sudden as that realization was to hit her, so was the wispy green smoke to surround her body in a nearly solid mass. It quickly swirled around her before disappearing to a place she thought was in her chest, if the sudden pain was any indication. Valkyrie's eyes darkened, and charged for Delilah, sword raised. Delilah crossed her own weapon in front of her and her free hand braced itself for the incoming attack in front of her.

Just as the blow was to connect, the pain in Lilah's chest exploded outward through her arm. Her open palm, facing Valkyrie and waiting for impact, spewed a dense ball of that same wispy, green smoke that knocked Brunnhilde off her feet. She flew several yards back and landed with a loud thunk on the concrete floor.

"What the fuck is going on!?"

Loki's booming voice was so welcome that Delilah thought she might sob. Actually, she did, because Loki was by her side and wiping her tears away with his thumbs a moment later. He wrapped an arm around her, trying to soothe the violent trembling that was making her teeth knock together painfully. He pried her fingers off the grip of Valkyries sword and reassured her in soft murmurs that she was OK and that she was in no danger.

"I yield. Oh, Frigga in Valhalla, dearest. I yield," Valkyrie gasped, pulling herself back onto her feet.

"What the fuck is going on, Valkyrie?" He repeated, though his voice was low and sounded poisonous.

Brunnhilde pulled a face, rolling her eyes. "What do you mean, what the fuck is going on? You know our laws, Loki. She is not a member of the court and since you've endeavored to make it quite clear that you are both alive and in love with her, she needs to ascend."

Loki stared blankly at the King for a few minutes, no noise being made among the three, before he drew an extraordinarily long breath. "I know that. She does not."

"So?"

His response was perfectly enunciated, each syllable dripping vitriol unlike any Delilah had ever heard. "She thought you were attempting to kill her, you empty-headed troll." His arm gripped Lilah tightly and pressed her securely into his side. She was still trembling, though she had stopped crying. He assumed that the shock was just settling in. They needed to be careful before–

Splat.

"Oops?" Valkyrie looked contrite, especially considering that Delilah was now hunched over, emptying her stomach of any and all contents in the space that existed between the three. "You would think a civilized society would at least teach all of their members to fight properly! She was acting as if it was her first time battling with swords."

"It was… You've been living in Midgard for a long time. How did you not notice they don't swordfight anymore?" With a scoff, he handed a surly Valkyrie back her sword, which she promptly sheathed at her hip.

"Can I at least finish so I can take this ridiculous court armor off?" Loki's eyes cut across with a darkened glare. "She's already doubled over!" He nodded reluctantly and allowed Valkyrie to touch the top of Delilah's head with the flat of her blade. The Midgardian gasped and tensed again and would have continued to be sick were it not for Loki's hand smoothing down her back. "After brave battle, you have earned your place in court. Blah blah blah. I guess you can continue seeing Loki, though the Norns only know why you would choose to do so." Brunnhilde bent over and caught Delilah's eyes, dulled by fear and exhaustion. "Could you do the fist thing really quick?"

With a delirious laugh, Delilah thumped her closed fist over her heart, nearly sobbing when the Asgardian put her arm around her and helped her straighten. "Could you have not sent a message ahead or literally anything before chasing me down wiTH A DAMN SWORD, VALKYRIE!?"

Valkyrie shrugged. "I really did think you guys had better battle training than this. Sorry." The group stepped over Delilah's mess and took back to the corridors. Bucky had been patrolling like a mad man in search for Valkyrie before Loki had told him that he was on it. As they moved past him, Lilah offered him a thumb's up and a thank you. "Did you make her that seidr pendant, Snakeboy?"

Loki helped Delilah sink into one of the chairs in her living quarters, anxiously brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Yes. Did it hurt?"

"Like you wouldn't believe!"

"Good," he replied, deadpan, and Delilah could tell he really meant it. Shortly, he placed a bottle of Gatorade in front of her and kissed her crown. "Drink. You need it." His fingers loosened the chain around her neck and closed it in his fist. "I will bring this right back. Evidently, I need to add a warning for idiot Asgardians on it," he offered before blipping out of existence in her flat.

Valkyrie had pulled off all the heavy, metal armor off her body and sighed with satisfaction. "Did you really think I wanted to kill you?"

"Yes! You only yelled my name and that you demanded satisfaction. I had no clue what was going on."

"I guess not the best warning, I'll admit, but I'd never hurt you. You're the only one in this hell hole I can stand." The Valkyrie nudged Delilah in the ribs until she let out a laugh. When Loki returned, they were sitting on the couch, one arm around each other's waist, giggling. He wasted no time in reattaching the necklace with an adoring smile.

"Since when do you care about tradition and protocols?" Loki asked, offhandedly, sitting on the coffee table opposite Delilah with her free hand in his.

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes. "Since several ladies took offense that they were not informed of the fact that you were alive and demanded tradition be upheld. They're desperate to rise the ranks and go back to being courtesans."

"It's no secret I've never been the preferred prince. So, why bother?"

The warrior sighed. "Because even power and title from the dark prince is still power and title. They'll do anything to grab their share. Now, they can't."

"I'm not in line to serve, though. And it'll be a cold day in hell before I willingly go to New Asgard to live, so it's a moot point." He ran him thumb over the back of Delilah's hand. "Not to mention, I wouldn't take them. Can't exactly marry me by force."

"They'd try," Delilah and Valkyrie replied in unison.

"From what I've read, they've downgraded from a futuristic paradise to a cold strip of land by the sea. It's hard to forget thousands of years worth of privilege. Especially if you've lived the thousands of years." Delilah shrugged. "I don't blame them."

"I'm spoken for," he argued, his lips twitching just the barest bit upwards.

"Well, now you are. You're welcome, by the way," Brunnhilde grumbled, stretching out with a sigh before hopping to her feet. "I have duties to attend to, so I will see you later. My Prince. Princess."

Delilah frowned, watching Valkyrie toss her armor over her shoulder and close the door behind her with a slam. "Princess? There's a new nickname. Can't say it's my favorite."

Loki grinned widely, resting his head on his free hand, propped on his thigh. "You've got no clue what you did today, do you?"

"I don't exactly study Asgardian history in my free time, Lo." There was a long pause before she tacked on, "Why?"

"The challenge you fought was for position in the court as a member of equal measure to the Royal Family."

"I don't follow."

His eyes glittered in mirth. "I'm not surprised. It will make sense soon enough." He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. "Nonetheless, you will always be my Queen in all that matters, Princess. Though getting rid of the Valkyrie would be an easy enough task, should you desire to ascend."

With another kiss, he mentioned something about going to get her some more Gatorade. The words sunk slowly into Delilah's adrenaline-drowned brain. "Wait, are you telling me she just made me a Princess? Like an honest to god, I could have my own Disney movie, Princess? Loki?!"

#Loki #Loki MCU #Loki (Marvel) #MCU #MCU fanfiction #MCU fanfic #Loki x oc #Loki x ofc #alternate timeline #time heist #not Loki show compliant #Queening a Pawn

[12redsky34]

wip roundup

I have been tag-teamed by @autisticmidoriyas and @yamadadzawa so I guess it’s my turn! Thanks for inviting me to share my many ideas, both of u xD

Just gonna preface this by saying that I have only three actual in-progress and posted wips at the moment, so I’ll split this into written and currently unwritten. In addition, while most of my ideas are for BNHA, I have a few for Haikyuu as well that I’ll include.

 BNHA

1. The Soul Behind The Quirk: Currently the fic I’ve written the most content for, and it’s been tonnes of fun to write!. It basically started with the thought “what if Izuku could see like... souls?” and it spiralled from there. It starts with Hisashi, an S-class villain (not AfO though), coming to Izuku and Inko’s home. He and a currently unnamed accomplice murder Inko and heavily injure Izuku, leaving Aizawa to rescue him from the burning apartment. Izuku force-manifests a quirk from the stress of the experience.

2. Dancing through Embers: This one is still in the baby stages, but it features quirkless, trans Izuku and Hitoshi, graffiti artist Hitoshi, vigilante Izuku, vigilante and brotherly Dabi (eventually, it’s a bit far down the line at the moment), and eventual parental Aizawa. Also featuring the characters in Karasuno from Haikyuu!! You don’t need to know anything about Haikyuu to enjoy them, but they’re a nice addition for those who do. This one’s more serious than most of my other fics so far, and I’ve outlined a lot more than the rest. I’m actually quite proud of what I’ve planned, and you may take that as you will ;)

3. A Study of Soulmates: You want a soulmate AU? You want good dad Hisashi? Want a quirkless Izuku who doesn’t ever step foot into UA? Want an Izuku that will eventually work in a coffee shop as an informant on the side? Well this is the place for you! This one is in it’s early early stages; like I just started posting last month, early. It’s mostly going to be fairly light-hearted, with both platonic and romantic soulmates, but Tododeku is planned as a main pairing and there will be plenty of shenanigans surrounding them.

3. I’m falling to pieces (falling to pieces): A oneshot that is still being written. I’ve seen a lot of fics where Aizawa and/or his classmates find out about Izuku’s previous quirklessness somehow, and this was actually inspired from this post by @zippodippo! Features all the dadzawa content!

4. Dragon!Quirked Izuku AU: This hasn’t had too much thought beyond “I want to make Izuku a dragon” and “Ooooh what if he was taken in by the Hero Commission just like Hawks?” Basically in this fic, his quirk manifested a little late and quite violently; he effectively goes feral for a short while until heroes are called in to subdue him. He would have been pardoned for his quirk use considering it happened while he was afraid and under significant stress, but the power his quirk had even then caught the Commission’s attention and they basically forced Inko and Hisashi to hand him over. There isn’t a lot they can do about it.

5. Shady Dealings: Doesn’t really have an end goal at the moment, but this basically started from “I want to write a villain/informant AU that I feel would be true to Izuku’s character,” and it resulted in this. Inko works as a nurse/doctor of sorts in the underground for villains, vigilantes, or just people who can’t afford an actual hospital for whatever reason. Hisashi works as a support mechanic of sorts for the underground, mostly for vigilantes and for the poor division of the population who can’t afford traditional prosthetics. Both of them take payment in the form of money, favours, or both. They’re also very careful to keep anyone from targeting Izuku, and make active attempts to get him into a more lawful line of work, but that backfires of course. I plan for it to be pretty lighthearted despite the serious subject.

6. Everyone is Brainwashed: I see a lot of fix-it fics where those involved are often like “why didn’t I see/notice this before?” and I thought “well... what if it’s because everyone literally can’t?” The basic premise is this: when UA was first being planned and built, AfO placed a very subtle but very wide-ranged brainwashing on anyone involved in major decisions regarding the school. He can’t change how anyone under influence acts in a major way, but he can, for instance, make someone decide not to put in place one safety measure or another. This is a chink he eventually takes advantage of through the USJ arc. Things are going quite well for him until one Izuku Midoriya walks in completely unaffected by the brainwashing zone he’s put in place.

7. Anomaly!AU: Basically if Izuku is an SCP from SCP: Containment Breach. I’ve taken a fair amount of creative liberties with this one, partially because I have never actually played the game and partially because fitting things like that into a world of quirks can be a little tricky. He’ll be an SCP of my own design, I’ve actually drawn him quite a bit at this point, but he wasn’t originally one. AfO took him as a child and felt like experimenting so he sort of crammed a lot of weird, random quirks into him, but it kind of backfired, and Izuku became something not quite human anymore. There’s not a whole lot planned yet but I have some ideas!

Haikyuu!!

1. Lightning Strikes Twice: Basically a HTTYD AU with some creative liberties. Hinata is a rare lightning Dragon, known in the racing world for his speed. The only problem is, his paired rider is abusive and keeps pushing and demanding, always telling him he isn’t good enough even though he keeps trying. Kageyama is a renowned dragon rider, known for his excellent control on the saddle and for being able to navigate racing courses even veterans find hard to clear. However, he never manages to find a dragon he truly connects with, and to make it far in the racing industry, that kind of connection is basically a requirement. Tragic accidents drive them from their old teams and bring them to Karasuno, where they both get a fresh start.

2. Giant Crow Hinata: Almost everything is the same except Hinata isn’t human, and lives in the mountains with his family, who are also not human. I haven’t decided what exactly they are past giant creatures of some sort. Hinata belongs to a clan of giant bird creatures, and he specifically is a crow. One night in a storm, he gets injured and ends up in Kageyama’s back yard. Kageyama’s mother patches him up and sends him home, but he comes back, and eventually he and Tobio end up in a routine of sorts where Hinata will sit there and listen to Tobio talking about volleyball. One day, Hinata arrives but he’s in a more human-like form and demands that he let Tobio try and play with him. That’s about all I got for that so far.

3. Pokemon AU: This one is. So involved, mostly on the worldbuilding side of things. For those who know anything at all about the main series Pokemon games, this will be set in Galar (Sword/Shield). Hinata grows up wanting nothing more than to be a Pokemon Ranger (they have a slightly different role than “canon” here), whereas Kageyama was born from a Gym Leader and the CEO of an influential company and has had heavy expectations on him basically since birth. The stress and fear of failure make him cold and controlling at first, so when he does his first run of the Pokemon League, he fails. He gets advice to visit the Wild Area where a certain Ranger spends most of his time. Needless to say, when he meets this scrawny, wild-haired little Ranger, he is not expecting it to be while he himself is being chased around by an angry Dragon-type until Hinata arrives and calms it down by just being there. He has many questions.

Aaaaand that’s it I believe! If any of you want to ask me questions about these, feel free to leave an ask! I’d be happy to talk about them more :D As for tagging, uhhhh... I dunno, @plusultrachaos, @faelwenholdsthelight, and @psychicshr00m, if y’all haven’t done so and would like to do this!

#fanfic #fic #my fics #bnha #haikyuu #au #bnha au #haikyuu au #pokemon au #man i have more ideas than i thought #i also apparently do not know how to not ramble #so uh sorry for the long descriptions lololol #Redsky Rambles #tsbtq #dte #asos #dragon izuku au #brainwashed au #anomaly au #shady dealings #lightning strikes twice #giant crow au #haikyuu pokemon crossover

[edxwin-elric]

So Much I Can’t Breathe

Rating: T

Pairing: Edwin/Edward Elric x Winry Rockbell

Disclaimer: I don’t own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Word Count: 1670

Title: So Much I Can’t Breathe

Description: Edwin One Shot/angst/fluff? – Post-canon, married fic

Edward surprises Winry with some news, which leads to a fight more intense than their usual shouting matches.

A/N: Request by anon. #91 – “Tell me you need me.” From this prompt list. Idk if this is what you were looking for, but here you go. It’s time it was released from my WIP folder. Comments are always appreciated. Enjoy!

ffn || ao3 || JennIf

Winry

I hear the door open to my workshop, and I wince. Is it that late already?

“I’ll be out in a minute, Ed,” I call. “Let me just finish this–”

“Don’t bother,” he interrupts me gruffly. “I just came to say goodbye for the night.”

“What?” I drop the screw I’m holding and twist my neck to look over my shoulder.

I flinch when I see him. He’s wearing a face I’ve never seen before. Dark and surly. Like he has no emotion. It’s just…empty.

“I’m going to stay at the hotel in town tonight,” he announces in a low tone. “We can talk in the morning.”

“What?” I repeat, my voice faltering. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m sick of it, Winry,” he says quietly. “This…whatever this is. I can’t do it anymore.”

He turns to leave, and I jump up from my seat. “Wait!”

He doesn’t even turn around. My heart plummets as I chase him out into the yard.

“Edward! You can’t just leave,” I shout at his back. “Talk to me!”

He stops walking, and I freeze, waiting.

“Tell me you need me.”

“Tell you I—What?” I blink at him and take a step back.

“Tell me you need me, Winry,” he repeats, turning to look at me slowly.

“Are you serious?” I stare at him in shock. “You think I don’t need you?”

I watch a muscle in his jaw twitch.

“Well, it sure as hell doesn’t seem like it, Winry,” he bites out. “You’re always in your workshop obsessing over automail, and when I try to help, you just snap at me constantly about how I’m doing it wrong.”

“Ed,” I whisper.

“And no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to cook a decent meal or wash the damn dishes right. If I attempt to fix anything, I fuck it up. I’m just…done. I need to feel useful in my own fucking house, and right now I don’t. I just feel like I’m a nuisance.”

“Edward, please.”

“I’m not finished,” he snarls, holding his hand up.

I go quiet and wait while he takes a deep breath through his nose.

“We haven’t had sex in over a month, Winry,” he announces softly. “A month. Any time I mentioned it, you told me you were tired, so I quit bringing it up. But I heard you in the shower the other morning, and I know exactly what those sounds mean. So, you do have the energy, you just don’t want to spend it on me.”

“I thought you were asleep,” I say softly. “I didn’t want to wake–”

“You didn’t use to mind,” he cuts me off. “You used to wake me up in the middle of the night with your mouth between my legs. What happened to that?”

“I…” I feel my eyes start burning, and my chest gets tight. “I don’t know,” I confess. “You’ve been spending so much time working on your research, I didn’t think…”

“Do you even want to be married to me anymore?”

The question hits me like a punch to the stomach, and I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me.

“How can you ask that?” I whisper. “I love you.”

“Do you?”

My face heats with a rush of anger, and I ball my fists at my sides.

“Of course, I do, you idiot!” I scream at him, tears slipping down my cheeks. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you! But if you’re just going to-to–” I throw my hand out wildly. “To give up when things get hard for you, fine!”

“I’m not giving up!” he shouts back, walking toward me. “I’ve tried to talk to you about this, but you’ve been busy doing what-the-fuck-ever in your damn shop so much you haven’t given me the time of day! Since when are you so selfish?”

“Selfish?” I hiss. “You think I’m being selfish? Designing prosthetics for deserving people who have lost limbs?”

He frowns at me.

“Not like that,” he growls. “You know that isn’t what I meant. I mean the other times. The early mornings and late nights that I know you aren’t spending making customers’ designs. What about then? Are you avoiding me? What?”

“I’ll admit I’ve been putting in extra time in the shop, Ed, but there’s a good reason.”

“Is that so? I hope you’re not entering into another competition in Rush Valley. You have enough damn awards.”

I jerk back as if he slapped me, and feel my cheeks burn.

“I didn’t realize you felt that way,” I murmur, “but it’s not.”

“It’s not?”

“It’s not for a competition, and I’m not avoiding you either.” My voice sounds weak, and I hate it.

“Well then, what–”

“It’s your leg,” I speak over him.

Edward

“My…what?”

“Your leg,” she explains, looking up to meet my eyes. “I’m designing you a new one. It was supposed to be an anniversary gift, but…I guess there’s no point in keeping it secret anymore.”

“Shit, Winry,” I groan. “I…”

“I wanted to surprise you with it,” she whispers, blinking rapidly to keep the visible tears in her eyes from falling.

My gut twists, and I want to bang my head against the wall.

“That’s why I was working early mornings and late nights,” she goes on. “I was working with a new alloy and incorporating all these cool upgrades that I thought you’d like…”

“Look, I…” I exhale slowly. “I’m an idiot,” I mumble finally. “I didn’t mean any of those things I said, and I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings.”

“Usually, people are more honest when they’re angry,” she ventures carefully. “Are you sure you didn’t mean anything you said?”

“I…well, no. I mean, yes? I don’t know–”

“You don’t know?” she echoes bitingly.

“No! I mean, God, Winry, I didn’t mean to—Just…” I groan and run a hand over his face. “I shouldn’t have reacted like this. I let my insecurities get the better of me, and I let myself believe something ridiculous.”

“Insecurities? About what?” she asks, her tone losing its edge.

“Well, us.” I exhale slowly and look away. “You’re too good for me, and I know it, and sometimes…it gets to me. I love you like crazy, and the idea that you could do so much better than me–”

“Shut up.”

I blink and look up at her. She looks ready to slap me, and the way her watering eyes are glaring at me is unnerving. My entire body freezes at the intensity of her gaze.

“Don’t you ever say something so stupid ever again, Edward Elric,” she demands, her voice vibrating with rage. “If you do, so help me, I’ll knock you senseless.”

“Winry, I–”

“Do you really think I would’ve married you if I thought I could do better?”

I start to open my mouth when she waves a hand in my face.

“Don’t answer that.”

I watch as she takes a few breaths before turning back to me.

“You’re it for me, Ed,” she says softly. “You always have been. And…it hurts that you don’t think you’re good enough because I know that you’re so much more than that. I married you because I love you, and I want to spend my life with you. I want to have your babies and bring them up, teaching them about how their daddy saved the whole country and their Uncle Al. But it doesn’t matter how much I believe in you, if you don’t believe in yourself.”

“Fuck. Winry, I…”

“I know you’re trying to figure out how to live without alchemy still, considering you’ve been using it for as long as I can remember, but you’re not useless. Your research is important, and I’m sorry if I nag at you sometimes–”

“I love you so much sometimes I can’t breathe,” I blurt out over her.

“What?”

“I just mean…I’m sorry. For all of this.” I grab her hands, pulling her closer. “Can you forgive me?”

“Always.” She tugs her fingers from mine and reaches up to caress my face.

With her lips so close to mine, I can’t resist the pull, leaning down to kiss them. She melts against me instantly, and I slide my arms around her back.

God, Winry is everything.

After a long moment, she tucks her head into my shoulder, breaking the kiss. I rub my nose in her hair, the familiar scent instantly soothing my nerves.

“You know,” she murmurs, her voice muffled. “Since it’s not a surprise anymore, I could go ahead and fit you for your new leg.”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, is it done?”

She tilts her head back to meet my eyes and grins. “I just finished it last night. I really wanted to show you, actually, so I’m not really upset that you know.”

“Our anniversary isn’t too terribly far away anyway.”

“And if I swap it out now, I’ll have time to do any alterations to make sure you’ve completely adjusted to it before the day.”

I frown at her.

“Why does that matter?”

“Well…” she starts leadingly, “maybe I should say the night.”

“The night?”

“Uh-huh. If you have plans for our anniversary night, Ed, I definitely do. Plans that don’t require…clothes.”

I swallow hard and almost choke when I feel her hand slide under my shirt.

“You know, if you want to, we could practice right now.”

“Practice?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, her fingers skimming across my waist.

“You don’t have work to do?” I grunt.

“Work can wait. I want to spend time with you right now.”

Well, how can I say “no” to that?

“Lead the way, Mrs. Elric.”

She lets out a giggle that hits me straight in the chest, and I brace myself as she leads me to the house and upstairs toward our bedroom.

What started out as a terrible confrontation took a wild turn, and I honestly couldn’t be happier.

#edwin #edwin fanfiction #edward elric #winry rockbell #fma #fmab #my edwin #fullmetal alchemist #edwin fanfic #edwin fic #fueled by fire #my fics #otp: tears of joy

[mareebrittenford]

The Extra Fakes- Shadow Mirrors Chapter 2

I’ve decided that I’m going to update this every Friday. So here is the 3rd installment (it’s chapter 2 because I broke the first chapter in half). I have made a WIP page, so you can keep track of things there, and I’ll also be posting to Patreon, so any subscribers will get automatic updates when the new post comes out.

As always I appreciate any support for my writing, so please check out my novels #1, #2, patreon and ko-fi!

Also here’s a link to the first part in case you missed it.

Lionel messages me to set up an early morning run, which is a bit surprising, until he shows up with David.

Of course.

I glare at him. Was I really planning on giving this guy the benefit of the doubt? I told him no, and so he went around me to get what he wanted anyway. I briefly consider ditching them both, but that's only going to make me look petty. Instead I decide to experiment on him. That's fair, right?

David is already wearing (rather pretentiously I think) his team shirt. Did he even get a chance to wash it?

"So, you landed him?" I say to Lionel. Perhaps I can ignore David for the whole run.

"We came to terms. Can I go in real quick and use your bathroom?"

I groan. "Use the sucker fan!" I am too closely acquainted with what morning runs do to that boys digestive tract.

Lionel gives me a jaunty wave and heads inside, leaving me and David standing there alone, and me wondering if any of Lionel's 'terms' involved me. He wouldn't do that to me, would he? Besides, I still don't quite know if David was hitting on me or is just really intense about getting a running partner. I haven't figured out how to read him, which is unsettling. Most people are easy to read. Perhaps if I could actually see his face. But he's got that cap on again, pulled down to hide his eyes, even though the sun hasn't even cleared the horizon.

We stand there in awkward silence. The thing that is really annoying me is that before he got all weird and pushy I liked him. Not falling in love with him liked him, but a lets be friends liked him. I'd thought he'd seemed nice. Are my instincts off? I'm not used to that.

"You know the fairy house?" I ask. Demand really.

He looks startled. "The what?"

"Oh, it's this stupid old house that Lyse is obsessed with," Lionel says, joining us, finally. "I guess this means we're going to run a route past it. Where do you normally like to run?" he asks David as we head off down the street.

"I like the river trails, or I head into the hills and trail run." I knew it. He probably uses his runs to scout places to hide the bodies of his murder victims.

"Cross country would probably be your thing then."

"Yeah I guess."

They chatter back and forth, and I drop behind them feeling irritable. I'm completely ignored. They've probably forgotten I’m here. Perhaps I should just take off on my own.

"How many miles do you normally run a week?" Lionel asks.

"Carlyse asked me that yesterday." David glances back at me, as if he knows what I'm thinking and wants to make it clear that he's still aware of me. "I don't keep track. But usually about two hours a day."

"And you don't know your pace either?"

"No, I just run. Sometimes I take it easier, sometimes I push myself, but I don't know how fast I am."

Lionel shakes his head at this. Someone as results orientated as him finds this sort of attitude incomprehensible.

David seems so easy and comfortable I'm starting to wonder if that whole thing he told me about panic attacks and anxiety was fake, a way to gain sympathy. Because apparently I'm ready to believe all sorts of bad stuff about him now.

And then we make the turn onto Orangethorpe. Giddy anticipation starts to build up inside me, knowing how close we are. I don't know when I started looking forward to seeing this house like it's all my Christmases come at once, but that's almost how exciting it feels as I see it coming up.

After the weirdness with Brad I'm curious to see what David thinks of it.

But what I don't expect is for him to stop dead and stare.

"Where the hell did that place come from?"

"I'm guessing it was built in the twenties?" I say, uncertain of what he means. "It looks like that sort of design."

"It wasn't there before."

"It's not fake." I hate fake old stuff. I'm no expert on architecture, but I looked at some of the books Georgia had about local history and houses, and I'm certain this place really is almost a century old.

"Not what I meant. There was a model train store here. I know there was. I've been inside."

He pulls his hat off and fixes me with that intense stare. "What is going on here? What are you guys?"

"Look dude," Lionel says, and pats him on the shoulder.

David jumps in the air like a startled cat and spins, giving Lionel a terrified look, and then takes off down the street.

"Damn. Okay,” Lionel says.

David's fast. And  I feel guilty for thinking that maybe he lied about his anxiety issues, because that was a guy in panic.

Lionel starts after him, but I can see that there is no way he's catching up. So I don't bother. I can't imagine that running him down when he's panicked is the best move anyway. He wants to get away from us, not be pursued.

Instead I do something that I've never done before. I walk up the broken concrete path that curves across the lush lawn.

There is no direct access to the house. Instead there’s a wall made of odds and ends, sheets of roofing iron, concrete block, and a whole section of tiny strips of wood all nailed together like some modern art sculpture. The whole thing is overgrown with vines, and in the middle of it is a gate. It's pretty in a faded sort of way. It's made of wood, with an arched top and a diamond shaped peephole insert made of lattice. It was once blue, but all that's left of the peeling paint is on the lattice and in the grooves between the pieces of wood.

There's no handle or latch, only a keyhole. I push on it, but it doesn't give.

My heart is pounding, I'm sure that someone is going to yell at me at any moment, but I can't help myself, I bend and try to peek between the lattice slats. But all I can see is vines. Does this gate even work?

I press my hand against it one more time, and a thrill runs up my arm, and I know that I have to see what's on the other side.

I start looking for a place to climb over. Perhaps those slats of wood can give me a toe hold.

"Lyse?"

I look around and Lionel is standing on the sidewalk staring at me.

I turn back and test my first foothold.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice much closer now.

"What does it look like? I'm going to see what's over there. Maybe I can figure out what scared David."

He grabs my arm and pulls me back, away.

"Are you crazy? You can't just go climbing fences into peoples yards."

I look at him and then back at the wall. "But I really need to see what's over there."

"How about we come back later then? After we find David?"

"He had a panic attack."

"Or something. We should find him."

Once we're back on the sidewalk I shake my head. Was I really about to climb that fence just because? But for a moment there it felt like the most important thing in the world.

But David is frightened. We should try to help him. How did I forget that?

"He really did have a panic attack. He told me that he gets them." I say.

Lionel looks stricken. "We need to find him."

#

We don't find David.

I worry about him until I catch a glimpse of him later at school. He looks- perhaps not fine- but normal. His hat pulled down over his face, his body language making a stab at invisible, although now I've noticed him he's anything but. He's more like a lurking predator, invisible until he choses not to be. When I try to catch his eye he looks right through me.

It's like that for the rest of the month. He's on the team, but he shows up right before practice and leaves as soon as it's over, so I never get a moment to talk to him. He's always alone on the long runs too, I know he’s varying his pace to keep it that way. I'm getting frustrated with him shutting me out, but Lionel is thrilled. The boy really is as good as he thinks he is. He's pretty decent as a sprinter, although he's not really tall or muscular enough to be excellent. Where his real talent lies is as a distance runner. Out there no one can keep up with him. And he is showing up for practices. He's just avoiding social stuff.

Lionel tells me that he tried to talk to the guy and figure out what spooked him that morning, but he can't get him to give a straight answer about it. He's doing better than me. I can't even get him to look me in the face.

I know he's watching though. I catch glimpses of him around school. Which, okay that's normal. It's not like he's hiding the bushes or peeking in my windows. But I feel his eyes on me at school, like I'm a puzzle he's trying to figure out.

I try to forget about him, put him out of my mind.

But the house won't let me. And I guess my conscience won't either. Somehow the fairy house and David have become entangled in my mind, and I can't stop thinking about either of them, and whether I did something to betray his trust in me.

It doesn't help that I'm starting to wonder if the entire team is playing a practical joke on me. Although it feels more like my sanity being questioned.

Because as I run with different people over the next few weeks I start specifically pointing out the fairy house. Asking casual questions.

Everyone else sees a model train store. Everyone. Except me, Lionel, Georgia, and apparently David.

I'm so spooked and frustrated that on Friday afternoon when Georgia and I pick up Melody from school I make them both walk over to Orangethorpe with me, and the three of us stand in front of the house.

"Okay," I demand. "Tell me, what do you see?"

"You've shown it to me before. It's a cool old house," Georgia says. "Is this the one that you've been saying is haunted or something? Because I could totally believe it."

I heave a massive sigh of relief. Okay. I'm not crazy. I'm being pranked. The team is pranking me.

"Oh! Thomas!" Melody squeals.

I look at her with dread.

"What?"

"Thomas, look see? They have trains like Thomas. But I like Percy better. Maybe they have Percy."

I crouch down next to her.

"Did someone tell you to say that? Was it one of my friends from school?"

She frowns at me in confusion. And then before I can stop her she races away from me, and- disappears.

"Melody!" I scream. And then she just sort of comes back, right in front of me. I grab her hand.

"Georgia, did you see that?"

"Huh? What?" She says. She's staring up at the trees rising over the house's fence with a dreamy look on her face. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. What happened?"

All my giddy feels for the house have frozen like ice in my guts.

Before now, it was fun, a little eerie, frustrating too, but fun. Or maybe a crazy prank. But I just saw my sister disappear into a void or something. It's not funny or cool anymore.

I grip Melody's hand more tightly.

"Let's go home."

tagging @pinehutch @focusdumbass @timeenoughforamasterpiece @maximillianvalentine @q-oetry @rosy-writes as always if you’d like to be added or removed from this list please shoot me a message or comment on this post!

#the extra fakes #wip boost #serial urban fantasy #YA #superpowers

[literary-spirit]

Confessions of a Mikaelson: Possessing the Bennett

*Warning there's not only smut in this chapter, but there'll also be a crap ton of lemonade throughout this story. It's rated M for a reason, my fellow Bonnie lovers. So if you're not with it then I'll completely understand and for those of you who wish to proceed, please remember to buckle your seatbelts and strap on you helmets, this road is cluttered and broken.* Okay so Francesca and I are working on something new. This WIP begins at the end of 01X01 TVD and swerves recklessly out of the canon plot line into a very strange AU! So you've been warned! Flame it or acclaim in comments. I'll leave it up to the Bennett Fandom on whether this hot mess of a WIP lives to see another update!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

Bonnie Bennett glared down at her smashed to hell pager. "Fucking, fuckery, fuck!"

She cringed after the string of no-no words leapt from her mouth. Unholy hell. Well, that would be another fifteen dollars for the swear jar. Her Grams had created the damn thing before she passed away. It was meant to help her broaden her vocabulary now it would probably be what put her through college.

For reasons she never really wanted to consider, she still faithfully added money to the jar whenever one of those slippery bastards (swear words) tumbled from her lips. Which fortunately only occurred when she was upset, stressed, depressed, bored, or angry. Okay, when she reflected upon it, half of her verbal interactions consisted of inappropriate phrases. Who the hell was she fooling? Her tongue had never met an explicit word it couldn't commit to.

Her glare left her broken pager to assess the front wheel of her bike. The damn thing had nearly folded in half. Well, it could've been worse. Instead of Caroline Forbes making her crash her bike into one of the wooden poles of Wickery Bridge, she could've simply knocked her over the rail. Bonnie wondered if the vapid bitch would've stopped then. She shook her head. Probably not. Why would she?

Bonnie Bennett was selectively invisible to the Mystic Falls' High elite. The only time any of those beautiful vultures ever acknowledged her was when they wanted to score some mushrooms and organic Mary J from her Grams garden or if they wanted to purchase a term paper. Other than that, she could walk down the halls bare assed wearing nothing but a smile and no one would raise even a threaded eyebrow. However, their impaired vision on all things Bonnie Bennett suited her just fine. She preferred living her day to day in between the lines. It afforded her certain privacies those who basked in the spot light were denied.

Yet, that evening she could've used just a bit of the spotlight. Not only was her bike a fucking tragedy, but her ankle was busted all to hell too. Without a ride or a phone, she'd have to limp her happy ass all the way home. Unless, the caretaker of the Mikaelson Estate took pity on her and allowed her to call a taxi. Bonnie didn't hold out much hope, though.

She honestly couldn't remember the last time the old crusty son of a bitch opened the wrought iron front gates. Maybe it was the last time the Mikaelsons were actually in residence. But when the hell was that? She'd lived in Mystic Falls all of her life and she'd never so much as caught a glimpse of the family. Talk was, they travelled year round and the Mikaelson Estate was only one of many properties they owned. And if rumors danced close to fact, then the residence should be in possession of at least one damn phone.

Not wanting to linger any longer on the bridge which hosted a shit ton of animal attacks, Bonnie struggled to drag her bike to the grassy area under the Wickery sign. Once she chained it to the wooden pole, she began to limp towards the Estate. It took her fifteen slow as shit minutes to reach the intercom outside the gates. To her surprise the house twinkled with a dozen or so lights too many. A frown crumpled her face. Normally, the house stood cloaked in shadows around that time of evening. For a brief second she found herself hesitating to press the intercom button. However, the aching throb of her ankle gave her the motivation she required to ring the caretaker.

A few moments after the crackly sound subsided an elderly voice answered. "Yes?"

"Hi," she said, trying her damnest to put on her sweetest good girl voice. "I just wrecked my bike on Wickery Bridge and broke my pager. Would it be possible for me to use your phone?"

Without explanation the intercom went silent. When she moved to press the button again, the gates swung open. Her eyes nearly hit the paved driveway at the sight of an old school Bentley pulling to a stop at the entrance. Seconds later, the—older than sand—caretaker exited the driver seat and shuffled around the car to open the back door.

Bonnie hobbled over to the car. Once there, she eased herself into the back seat. After closing the door, it took him every bit of eight minutes to reclaim his seat behind the steering wheel and another ten before he pulled the Bentley in front of the huge French glass double doors at the front of the Mansion. Deciding not to wait another twenty minutes for the caretaker to open her door, she slid from the backseat.

By the time she'd limped to the entrance, the caretaker had pulled the car away from the front of the house. Soon as she teetered to a stop on the proverbial welcome mat, the doors swung open. The air thickened right before several intoxicating forces nearly knocked her to the ground. An electric pulsing sensation shot from her center and surged through her vessels. The pulsating pooled in the palms of her hands, while forcing its way outward to thrum just beneath the surface of her skin. It was almost as if the intense vibrations deep within her responded to the pounding energy pouring from the mansion.

Bonnie stood on the fucking precipice. Her spidey senses told her that if she leaped nothing in her world would ever be the same. If she turned back now her life would resume unchanged. Being a habitual creature who never deviated from patterns or set routines, she knew the choice she should've selected. However, the draw beyond the threshold appealed to her way more than the comfort of her normal resting state. She inhaled enough oxygen for two and stepped inside before she had the chance to second guess her sanity.

Once inside the doors automatically closed behind her. Bonnie barely took notice. The spacious ornate foyer held her focus. Truth was, she didn't know what the hell to ogle first. From the massive crystal chandelier suspended at least sixty feet off the ground to the floor to ceiling marbled columns, everything vied for her absolute attention.

She couldn't believe people actually lounged in such a cushy lap of luxury. She'd never seen anything so...lavish. Not even Zach Salvatore's Boarding House could hold a blow torch to the Mikaelson Estate and his mansion was believed to be the nicest in town. That's if one didn't count the Lockwood Plantation. And she didn't. The slave quarters the Lockwood's still maintained on their property snatched them right out of the running.

The fine hair stood on the back of her neck as goose bumps pebbled the skin on her arms. She was being watched. Of course she was being watched. Whoever maintained the place alongside the caretaker probably wanted to make sure a few priceless knick-knacks didn't find its way into her pockets.

"Hello," A feminine voice greeted her from behind.

She limped around to face the owner of the voice. A sophisticated middle age lady stood before her looking like she'd just taken a bath in one percent privilege. The ends of her silky blond hair fell a couple of inches below her jawline in a professionally tapered bob to frame a passingly attractive oval shaped face. Tasteful, but expensive jewelry twinkled from her ears, wrist, and neck. The low-key touch brought a little more glamour to the understated white sundress she wore. After a head to toe assessment, she concluded there was no way in hell this woman was the housekeeper.

Bonnie cleared her throat. "Hey, I'm Bonnie Bennett." The woman's assessing blue gaze slightly flared with recognition. "I wrecked my bike a couple of hundred yards back on Wickery Bridge and totaled my fucking pager." Shit! Another five dollars for the swear jar. She squeezed her eyes closed. "Sorry, didn't mean to swear," she mumbled before retraining her gaze on the older lady who looked more amused than offended. "But in my defense this day has been a total shi-..." she shook her head, "never mind. Would it be okay if I used your phone?"

"Absolutely, Miss Bennett," the woman said, while strolling further into the foyer. "And before I misremember my manners allow me to introduce myself. I'm Esther Mikaelson."

Surprise stretched Bonnie's eyes wide. No fucking way! Wait until the founding families got an ear full of this news. Carol Lockwood would no doubt wet her panties when she heard the Mikaelsons had come to town. She mentally shook her head as she limped forward to grasp Mrs. Mikaelson extended hand.

The corners of the woman's mouth travelled south under the weight of a frown as she gazed down at Bonnie's sneakers. "Were you harmed?" Mrs. Mikaelson questioned as her intense stare reestablished eye contact between them.

"Think I sprained my ankle," she said, while lifting her injured limb. "I'm sure it'll be fine once I get some ice on it, though."

Esther's brow puckered. "Finn!"

"Yes, mother?" A tall—totally fuckable—man appeared from behind the same door Esther exited.

"Miss Bennett-,"

"Miss Bennett?" He questioned with an arched brow.

"Yes...Miss Bennett, this is my eldest son Finn," she shot the man a pointed glare before continuing. "Miss Bennett has unfortunately injured herself during a biking expedition. Would you do a great kindness and carry her to the beige and gold sitting room?"

"That's not necessary. I can walk-,"  

"Of course, mother," he said, before turning to approach her. The atmosphere around him crackled. Waves of intoxicating energy seeped from him and tentatively swirled around her, all while taking care not to make contact. The temperature of her body crept north. When he towered over her, he paused, "May I, Miss Bennett?"

"Really, it's not-,"

Without giving her time to finish her sentence, he lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing more than an arm full of feathered pillows. He then swiftly made his way deeper into the mansion. After a few minutes of sprinting, he stopped in front of a set of closed doors. An array of voices drifted to them from inside the room. Finn took a step back to allow Esther to enter ahead of them.

Upon the opening of the door, a wall of highly charged energy slammed into her and lit her the fuck up. Her body temperature sky rocketed and leaped off the damn meter as if she'd been tossed into a hell blaze. Combined magnetic forces pricked at the exposed surface of her skin. She became extremely cognizant of Finn's hard frame firmly pressed against her side. A fantasy of her running her hands over hills of rigid muscles while he stood before her in all his bare ass glory, blasted away her conscious regard for shame. Without out grazing two thoughts together, she began to rub her cheek back and forth over his pec. The growl her actions elicited provoked her nipples to tighten almost to the point of being painful.

"Well, well! Look what the Finn managed to drag in, Bekah," a boy with precision cut sable tresses snarked from his place in one of the armchairs positioned in front of the fire place. He watched her with unblinking chocolate brown eyes that was downright predatory in nature. His calculated serial killer stare should've scared her crapless. Yet, all she could manage to think was...hmm, dessert! "Do say you're intending to share, brother." Finn's hold tightened around her.

"Curb your vile tongue, Kol. Miss Bennett is a guest in our home and you would do well to honor her as such." Esther hissed as she impaled him with a glare that would've made Satan piss his pants.

Guest? She just wanted to use the damn phone.

"Bennett?" A jaw dropping blond bombshell questioned from a satin bronzed sofa.

Finn gently placed her on the opposing loveseat. "Yes, Rebekah. This is Miss Bonnie Bennett." His slightly timid gaze found hers as he positioned a pillow under her ankle. "Miss Bennett, these are my siblings Kol and Rebekah."

Faster than her eyes could track, Rebekah shot from the sofa and reappeared again as she placed Bonnie's ankle in her lap.

"Fucking, fuckery, fuck! Am I having a stroke or did you just imitate a fucking Lambo?" Shit, another twenty for the swear jar.

Rebekah's mouth fell open and a chortle tumbled forth. Finn tsked his expression absolutely scandalized. Esther's eyebrows leaped into her hairline and Kol...wait...where the hell was Kol? Moments later she was lifted from the loveseat cushion and resettled in a hard bulging lap. Cool lips nuzzled the crook of her neck as something steamy floated from a tea cup that hovered in front of her face.

"Sweetness, your wicked terminology enflames me. Curiously, I find myself longing for the affordable affections of an all too willing dockside harlot," Kol whispered next to her ear. "Here, have some tea while it's still warm. It'll do wonders for your injured ankle."

With no further warning, Kol placed the tea cup to her lips and spilled the contents down her throat. To prevent herself from, choking she swallowed the metallic tasting tea. As she drank her thoughts spun the hell out in her head. How the...where the...something was extremely twisted about the Mikaelsons. Strength, beauty, and speed. She felt as if someone had dropped her off in a damn Twilight flick. Had she been one of those drugged out hippy, dippy, students Grams used to invite over for dinner, she'd truly believe herself to be in a house overran with vampires.

"Mother, will you not correct Kol on his forwardness in regards to Miss Bennett," Finn demanded, while attempting to commit visual homicide on his younger brother.

"Kol," Esther spit, her tone warning.

The caretaker appeared in the open doorway of the room. "Lady Mikaelson, Lord Niklaus wishes you attend him on the telephone."

Telephone? That's what the hell she needed!

"Excuse, Miss Bennett. I won't be but a moment," she rose from seat next to a large paned window. "I'll receive the call in my study Hannibal." She sashayed from the room and the door softly clicked closed after her.

"Oh, brother of mine. Celeste has yet to launder our unmentionables." Kol paused to blow a stream of cool air in her ear. The walls of her pop rocker quavered. "Why not preoccupy yourself with sniffing mother's soiled knickers. Your absence will allow Bonnie and me an opportunity to become better acquainted."

After she finished drinking the tea, Kol pushed the cup and saucer into Finn's hands. She opened her mouth to bless him with some more of her, wicked terminology, when she noticed the throbbing in her ankle stopped.

Flexing her ankle back and forth, she side eyed Kol. "What the hell was in that tea?"

"Family recipe," he said with wide guiltless doe eyes. He, however, looked about as innocent as a wolf covered in blood and feathers.

Rebekah snorted as she stroked her now apparently uninjured ankle. The vibrations which pulsed from the tips of her fingers triggered her to squeeze her thighs together to assuage a whole other throbbing. When the youngest Mikaelson licked her painted rosy lips, liquid heat flooded Bonnie's center. What the fuck? When had girls ever done it for her? Not that a boy had ever done it to her, but still. All her crushes over the last few years were geared towards the opposite sex. She'd never thought about a girl in such a way.

Uncomfortable in her own damn skin, Bonnie hopped from Kol's lap to put distance between her and the Mikaelson siblings. "Look, I just needed to use the phone. But since my ankle is-,"

"Brilliant." Rebekah climbed to her feet and grabbed her wrist. She then dragged her towards the door. "You can use the one in my room." When Kol moved to follow, Rebekah speared him with an over the shoulder glare, before saying, "no boys allowed!"

                                      ****

Rebekah covertly watched Bonnie Bennett through her lashes as she painted the tiny witch's toes. Nik's spies in Mystic Falls hadn't exaggerated. She was exquisite. Her smooth bronzed brown skin appeared to be quite edible. The way it stretched uninterrupted over her hills, peaks, valleys, and dips, compelled her tongue to glide back and forth across her bottom lip. She couldn't refrain herself from imagining the lovely dove stripped bare and reclining in the center of her bed with her luxurious chocolate tresses fanned out about her head. Quite the fetching sight she'd make to be sure.

Vanilla, coconuts, and the sensually mouthwatering scent of arousal tempted Rebekah's nostrils. Her core clenched as a hint of a smile flirted with her lips. It pleased her to know the witch struggled with her lust as well. The proof saturated the air with her delectable fragrance. The sweet attar, teasingly baited and ensnared them. Even now Kol stood vigil outside her bedroom door. While Finn had abandoned his perpetual crusade of self-loathing to recite aloud, Napoleon's love letters to Josephine. In verity, they'd all become rather batty for Bonnie.

If the witch caused this big of an uproar in the house of Mikaelson before the manifestation of her powers, they would all be raving lunatics after her quickening.

"What'd you think, Dove? Do you fancy them?" Rebekah questioned, while tightening the top on the nail polish.

The witch's enthralling green eyes slightly narrowed as she peered down at her toes. "Um...they're really red."

Rebekah rolled her eyes as she placed the fingernail polish back on the night stand. "How perceptive of you, Miss Bennett," she said, allowing sarcasm to thread itself through her tone. "Do you have the inclination to inform me on the blondness of my hair as well?"

"Whoa, there's no need to take the leash off the bitch. All I'm saying is-,"

"Hmm..." The witch's sentence skidded to a halt when the blonde original began to massage her shapely calves. "What were you saying, Dove?"

"I..." the little beauty paused to swallow. "Didn't mean to offend you."

"Oh..." she murmured, while she allowed her fingers to inch up Bonnie's jean clad thigh. "Well, I'm relieved. The task of pleasing you is extremely important to me." The heel of her palm connected with the lovely dove's crotch.

A breathy moan crept from the split of the witch's lips. "Rebekah, I'm not into...ahh...ooh..." Bonnie whimpered as the youngest original began to grind her hand into her witch's denim clad mound.

"Shh, Dove," she whispered, while urging the witch to lie back on the pillow-top mattress. "It's just us girls..."

Rebekah moved to straddle Bonnie's lap. She then leaned forward and brushed her mouth against the witch's to gauge how receptive she'd be to a kiss. The Bennett witch's arms slithered around her neck and drew her closer. Once Rebekah's mouth loomed over hers, she lifted her head from the mattress to close the distance. Since her lovely little dove initiated the kiss she allowed the tiny witch to take the lead. However, when it became blatantly apparent she'd never been properly snogged, the original reclaimed control.

With the tip of her tongue, she traced the seam of Bonnie's lips. A moment later the witch opened her mouth and granted her entrance. The sweet taste of her extracted a throaty moan from Rebekah and motivated her lower half to grind into Bonnie's. Pretty soon the witch's hips began to rise from the mattress to meet her wild writhing thrusts. Each of their whimpers and moans climbed in volume until their lips tingled and the press of their joined mouths could no longer suppress the sounds.

[saxgoddess25]

“Of Choreography and Clipboards” - SQW: Day 1

My fanfic for @swanqueenweek Day 1: Behind the Scene. Fluff and banter - the things I seem best known for. This could expand into something later, if I ever wrap up my other WIPs. Or if muses strike.

AO3 Link

Mills always looked adorable when she pushed those glasses up the bridge of her nose. Emma was so distracted that she almost dropped the prop sword she was using to go through the latest choreography with one of her stuntmen. “Pull it together, Swan,” she muttered, feeling foolish.

“What was that?”

“Sorry, David. My hand slipped a bit is all. Let’s go through that sequence one more time.”

“Sure.”

They ran through the movements again, but her concentration was shot. She was too aware that Regina Mills was about twenty yards away, working on something. Probably call sheets. She had a small army of PAs going to and fro, and somehow she kept the set running like a well-oiled machine. Emma didn’t know how she did it.

“I could use a break,” she said, pushing a few locks of hair that had escaped from her pony tail out of her eyes. “Why don’t we start back up after lunch?”

“Sounds good to me. One o’clock?”

“Yeah, see ya then.”

Stealing another glance over at Mills, Emma saw that she was still typing away on her pad, barely even looking up as the second AD came over to ask her a question. She’d work through lunch; Emma had watched her do it plenty of times. In fact, she thought she could count on her fingers the number of times Mills actually stopped for lunch in the year that they’d been working together. Their assistant director was a bitch on wheels when it came to a schedule, and she was every bit as tough on herself as she was everyone else.

A quick trip to craft services netted Emma a plate with two cheeseburgers and cans of soda stuffed hastily into her pockets. That was the easy part. The hard part was calming the nerves that suddenly sprang up in her stomach like captive yellowjackets.

“Hey.”

Mills flinched a little. Emma had caught her deep in concentration of the screen in front of her. “Hey.” The response was neutral, but had just the hint of the impatient question in it. She might as well have said, “Why are you bothering me, Miss Swan?”

“We just broke for lunch. Thought you might be hungry.” Emma waved the paper plate in her direction, giving her what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

Regina rolled her eyes, probably thinking that she had PAs to do that for her, but she did put her tablet down to take the plate from her. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks.” She took the offered can of soda too, and continued speaking as she checked to see if her burger had the right condiments on it. It did. Emma was good with details, especially when she’d been watching someone as intently as she’d been watching Mills for the past few weeks. “How’s Nolan working out?”

“Good. Really good.” She unwrapped her burger and had a bite. “I already knew he was a pro. We worked together a bit on Mission Impossible.”

“Glad to hear it. We’re going to need him to reshoot that scene from yesterday. Gold wants some different angles on it.”

“Okay. No problem. I’ll let him know after lunch.”

Mills nodded as she started in on her burger, attention slipping back to her pad and tapping a few things into it. “Oh, that’s right.” She gave a long-suffering sigh before looking over at Emma again, “You’ll need to find my sister this afternoon. She’s having a brain fart about that choreography in scene 125. Again.”

Zelena Mills was the star of the show – a real prima donna – and Regina’s older half-sister. Most of the crew hated working with her, but somehow, she’d become the studio’s darling. Though she wouldn’t dare say it out loud, Emma suspected that she’d slept her way to the top. It certainly wasn’t because of her sparkling personality.

Considering that it was just the two of them within earshot at the moment, she let her guard down enough to whine, “Do I have to?”

That brought the hint of a smile to Regina’s lips. “I believe that is what I pay you for.”

Emma huffed. “Fine. But you’ll owe me.”

Regina raised her eyebrow. “I’ll owe you a favor for doing your job?”

“Not just any favor. You owe me a date. Tonight.”

“Miss Swan, I’m terribly busy.”

“That’s my price for working with Her Royal Pain in the Ass. Take it or find yourself another stunt coordinator.”

Their eyes met and held, Mills clearly annoyed about having terms dictated to her, but in the end, she caved. “Fine.”

Emma grinned like an idiot and decided she’d better leave before she made a complete fool of herself - or Mills changed her mind. “Great! I’ll be waiting when you finish for the night.”

“It’ll be late.”

“I know. See ya!”

She took her sandwich and her Coke and went off to find a quiet, out of the way spot where she could do a happy dance. After pumping her fist in the air and generally being insane for about sixty seconds, she plopped down to finish her lunch, still grinning like an idiot.

At one o’clock, she tracked down David and ran through the sword fight with him again until he probably could have done it in his sleep. Then she made a round of the set to make sure everything was still going safely, and finding that it was, went to see about Zelena. That was a lot less fun, but if one thing could be said about Emma Swan, she knew how to kick some ass when she needed to. It only took a couple of hours to get her whipped into shape, and Emma hoped she’d retain all of the moves long enough to get it in the can. They planned to shoot that scene the next day, so perhaps she would.

It was about eleven when Emma finally worked her way back toward where she’d last seen Mills. She wasn’t there, but Emma noticed that she wasn’t far off, going over the day’s shooting with Gold. He seemed pleased enough with the report, and Emma leaned against a scaffolding for a while, just watching Regina’s face.

That’s a face that should be on the other side of the camera, she thought, trying to ignore just how smitten with her she was. It wasn’t fair that Regina’s self-centered, brat of a sister got all the limelight.

Emma glanced at her watch. They weren’t going to be able to do what she wanted to do that evening if they didn’t get a move on. Slipping her phone out of her pocket, she typed out a quick text and hit send. A half a minute passed, then she watched as Mills slid her hand into her pocket. It emerged with her phone, and she flicked her thumb over the screen to unlock it. Her eyes raised from the screen, scanning her surroundings until she spotted her stunt coordinator. Emma gave her a little wave, and it wasn’t long before Mills was striding toward her.

“You have something you needed to discuss with me?”

“Yeah. We’re going to be late for our date.”

Mills rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You called me away from the director for that?”

“Regina,” Emma didn’t think she’d ever addressed her by her given name before, and she hoped she wouldn’t get taken to task for it, but if things were going to go like she hoped, she’d have to do break that ice some time, “I know you. You’ll have gotten everything nailed down two hours ago. Anything else can wait for the morning.”

“You’re pretty cocky, Miss Swan.” The tone was disapproval, but her eyes betrayed her. She was intrigued. Score.

“When you’re as good as I am, it’s hard not to be.” Emma winked. Mills just laughed. The laugh was music to Emma’s ears.

“Is that so?”

“Sure is.”

“Fine. Let me just tell Mary Margaret a few things, then we can go.”

Emma nodded her agreement, even though her impatience was growing by the moment. At last Regina was striding back toward her, slinging her handbag over her shoulder.

“Okay, I’m ready. Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

Emma led her to her yellow beetle, pretending she didn’t see the way Mills sneered at it. Hopefully she’d come around to its charms eventually, because Emma didn’t have any intention of giving it up as long as she could keep it running. That bug was her baby.

It was nearly midnight when they pulled up in front of an old movie theater with the title of a film spelled out on its giant marquee, framed by flashing white lights. Regina stared over at her. “We work on a film set all day, and you want to go see a movie as a date?” Regina looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

“It’s not just any movie. It’s the Rocky Horror Picture Show! Don’t tell me you’re a…*gasp* a virgin.” Just then, Regina’s final words sank in, and before she could confirm or deny her RHPS virgin status, Emma said, “Wait. You think I’m cute?” She tried to play it cool, giving Regina a sly look, but inside she was giddy. It was hard not to start doing the car version of the happy dance. Somehow she managed not to.

“A figure of speech, Swan.”

“Nuh uh! You think I’m cuuuute. You want to date me,” she said in her best Sandra Bullock impersonation.

“You’re an idiot.” This time it was obvious that Mills was trying not to laugh.

“Mmhmm, and you’re a Rocky Horror virgin. Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight!”

“Need I remind you that I do have the power to fire you?”

“Not at all, Ms. Mills.” It wasn’t really a threat, she could tell. Emma gave her a wolfish grin. “Not at all.”

#swanqueenweek #ouat fanfiction #swan queen #sqw 10 #regina mills #emma swan #mine

[exmachinus]

WIP: Wolves of Yellowstone

presented in the style of @solivar, who is partly responsible for this endeavor of mine, this is a preview of the first chapter of my fic Wolves of Yellowstone

Boy meets wolfgod, and shenanigans ranging from silliness to sexiness ensue. Gratuitious awoo-ing ahead.

Inspired by the musings of @hhgggx, the fanfiction “Ghost Stories on Route 66” by @solivar, and way too many and highly varied late-night conversations with @melissaknowsthings

From his perch in a repurposed hunting hide in a pine tree, ten-ish miles in from the Montana border of Yellowstone National Park, the ranger let out a satisfied huff, his breathing misting in the chilly air. He lowered his binoculars and took down a few last careful notes for the Fish and Wildlife people currently camped out in his office, hoping that these latest observations would help convince them the pack of wolves he was clinging to a tree squinting at were actually going to stay in the area for the next few months. They were afar enough into the interior of the Montana wilderness that the officials in his office insisted a ranger already familiar with the area go and collect some data for them, rather than doing the work of making sure the tracking collars placed on several of the wolves were still in place and functional themselves. If the wolves stayed in the general area for the next several months, they’d likely avoid both prey shortages and poachers, and then move on to someone else’s jurisdiction, taking the Department people with them, in a few months. The ranger couldn’t really bring himself to blame them. Being out in the Montana woods a few hours off dusk in wolf country when the nights were really beginning to make one grateful for having feeling in the toes and fingers wasn’t all to appealing to him either, and he loved his job.

Considering further the approaching dusk, Jesse McCree collected his various pieces of equipment and began descending from his perch back down the rustic ladder, shivering a little even through his multiple layers. Dusk in the woods of Montana was not a time to be outside, much less now as the long dry days of summer were coming to an abrupt end in early September. When his boots hit the much-more-comfortably stable ground, it was indeed the beginning of the end of the day. Heading out at a brisk walk for the clearing where his fellow ranger waited with the truck, the ranger activated his transceiver. “’Reeha, you there? I’m comin’ back, pack’s fine. Got that last data for the Fish and Wildlife people, all the collars are still in place. Maybe they’ll finally be happy now.”

A few seconds later, the coworker Jesse considered more of a sister answered with a radio-scratchy, “Gotcha. Want me to come pick you up?”

“Nah, weather’s still good. Need to stretch my legs a little, was up there for hours.”

“Roger, see you in a few. Over.”

As he walked, Jesse fought against the strangest sense of unease. He’d walked these woods a thousand times and never felt the slightest bit of undue danger, but tonight was different. He shivered and rubbed the back of his neck as he walked. A new moon meant it was gonna be dark as the pits of Gabriel Reyes’ soul that night, with likely some rain coming judging by the wind. Creepy. Jesse was by no means a superstitious man, but having lived in the woods for as long as he had meant he gained an understanding and healthy respect for all the somethings in the woods that weren’t always what they seemed. He rubbed the back of his neck again, feeling the short hairs there rising with the strangely electric air. A small voice whispered in the back of his mind that this was wolf country, after all, maybe he should walk a little faster. Even though Jesse had last sighted the wolves a good while away, he knew how fast they could move when they wanted to. Jesse shivered. By the time he could see the truck’s headlights breaking through the trees he was practically jogging, the hair on the back of his neck standing almost on end.

He paced quickly to the passenger door and hoped Reeha didn’t notice when he slammed the locks down after he climbed in.

She did not, far too preoccupied to notice. “Jesus, Jesse, did you turn your radio off? I must have called you half a dozen times.”

Jesse blinked. “No, no I didn’t- The batteries musta died, Reeha, I’m sorry. What happened?”

Fareeha shook her head, her hair beads clicking. “Jess, you aren’t gonna believe this. They tagged a wolf today, those Fish and Wildlife people that’ve have been around recently. They were out with Gabe and Jack and there it was, not twenty yards away. Gabe said it was looking back and forth like it was trying to decide which way to go on the trail. He said it’s not just any wolf, it’s the literal biggest wolf they’d ever seen. I was just talking to Gabe about it not ten minutes ago, and he was completely serious when he was telling me about it. White as snow, too, and had these neat yellow markings under its eyes.”

Jesse raised his eyebrows and fought back another shiver, but said nothing, reminding himself objectively that it was more than likely a regular wolf and Gabriel “Has Never Been Completely Serious Ever In His Entire Life” Reyes was likely pulling her leg. “So,” he said as he leaned down to arrange his gear on the floorboard between his feet, “I guess the Fish and Wildlife people were having a fuckin’ field day, huh?” Fareeha made an assenting noise as she started the truck and started heading back to the station.

“Gabe says so. He and Jack think it might be some kind of arctic wolf hybrid that wandered too far south and east and ended up here somehow, or it’s a pet that escaped or that someone dumped. Climate change and food supplies and or exotic pet needs, you know the drill. Speaking of food supplies, you have to fend for yourself for a few days. I talked to Jack, he says it’s fine if I spend a few days at my mom’s for Rein’s birthday. I’m assuming you’re going to want me to bring you more of that nasty grape soda that you love so much when I come back?”

Shaking off his unease, Jesse turned to shoot a wolfish grin and a wink at her. “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

Fareeha wrinkled her nose and flicked a look at Jesse’s paunch as she maneuvered the truck down the track. “I believe I know one that does. Fewer sodas, more hikes, and a shave might do you good, Sasquatch. Ma still frets about you and your green leafy material intake.” Jesse snorted and tugged his jacket closed over his shirt, grumbling half-heartedly about busybody women and their mothers while Reeha laughed at him. Frets was a kind way of saying Ana Amari threatened on a monthly basis to come to the park and force-feed Jesse vegetables herself if she wasn’t thoroughly assured Jesse was getting some form of proper nutrition.

After Fareeha dropped him off back at the station, Jesse headed in to close up shop and headed upstairs for the night himself. He hummed a song from an old Western as he went through the motions for bed.

-

The storm hit within the hour. Normally storms acted as white noise for Jesse, had him snoring on his pillow in minutes, but this one was different. He tossed and turned for the better part of an hour before ending up staring up at his ceiling as the rain pounded against his window and the wind howled and roared through the trees. He scratched absent-mindedly at his belly, and his hand drifted slowly farther south, rubbing and running his nails lightly over the skin of his lower belly and thighs. He sleepily considered it for a few moments, but the strange feeling like he was being watched prevented his blood from heating. He didn’t notice when he finally dropped into a light sleep. Even then, Jesse didn’t find rest. His sleep was fractious and his dreams filled with flashes of dark trees and yellow-gold-white fur. He was running through the woods, sprinting, out of breath, the trees closing in on him, hot panting breath on his neck, no time no space no air no air no air—

Jesse woke with a ragged gasp, sucking oxygen, and bolted upright in bed. Or he would have bolted, had there not been what felt like a boulder sitting on his midsection, leading to an undignified brief fit of scrabbling, causing him to be on the edge of asphyxiation and generally unable to move. Jesse had only a moment to struggle before a long crack of lightning lit the room for a single clarifying second and revealed the identity of the boulder. Jesse froze.

Illuminated in the white brilliance of the lightning was the figure of a man, heavy with muscle and wearing a white wolf skin headdress and strange armor, kneeling on Jesse’s stomach with a feral smile rendering his face extremely dangerous. 

#mchanzo #overwatch #wip wolves of yellowstone #wip woy #okami hanzo #park ranger mccree

[flauntpage]

Double Doink! – Ten Takeaways from Eagles 16, Bears 15

Nick Foles left the field with the lead..

and…..

…this time he won.

Holy mackerel! Holy cow! Holy cannoli! Pick whatever animal or dessert you want; you just can’t write a crazier script than that. I thought for sure we were watching a replay of the 2014 Saints game, a walk-off field goal to knock the Eagles out of the playoffs. The Foles era and the Super Bowl title defense would come to an end at the foot of Cody Parkey, who instead hit the upright AND the crossbar on the final play of the evening. It was a double doink, like that one time the WWF brought out two clowns at the same time to beat the crap out of Crush at  Wrestlemania IX. 

Seriously though, what a game. The Eagles blew opportunities and made mistakes, namely the pair of interceptions and a couple of dropped picks to go along with a bobbled third-down hand-off and some killer, drive-extending defensive penalties. I thought it was over when Chicago started picking on Avonte Maddox on their fourth-quarter touchdown drive, but “not so fast my friend,” as the great Lee Corso once said. Foles got it done, Doug Pederson just barely out-dueled Matt Nagy, and the Birds got some luck to go their way, which really hasn’t happened too often this season.

It sets up another crack at the Saints in the Superdome, this time with Foles leading the charge. If you like the “underdog” storyline, then this is your type of game. The Birds get their revenge shot and really have nothing at all to lose heading into the divisional round against asshole Sean Payton, who ran up the score in the regular season meeting.

On the flip side, the only thing we’re going to hear about this week is the “Nick Foles vs. Carson Wentz” argument, which I think will continue throughout the summer and into eternity, or as long as 94 WIP and 97.5 the Fanatic are broadcasting.

But for now let’s enjoy the win, beginning with:

1) The final drive

12 plays, 60 yards, 3:52 off the clock.

They started on their own 40 yard line with 4:48 remaining and methodically moved the ball down the field. Foles was 6-9 on the drive with a two-yard touchdown on a pseudo-sprint out that targeted Golden Tate on the goal line.

I wasn’t sure about Doug’s decision to run Darren Sproles twice in the red zone, but some of the other play calls were superb. He and Nagy really started going deep into the playbook in the fourth quarter, and Pederson rolled with this:

play action, deep seam to Alshon Jeffery

pre-snap motion, play action, Foles pressured and incomplete

trips left, fake screen left, fake screen right, RELEASE THE TIGHT END up the right seam (Goedert breaks two tackles)

play action, shallow out to Nelson Agholor, broken tackle, nice pickup

12 personnel, more pre snap motion, Zach Ertz in the middle, difficult catch

Wendell Smallwood left guard for about a yard

empty set, clear out for Agholor, incomplete

jumbo/pistol, motion Jeffery, hit him on seam for first down

Sproles run

Sproles run

Jeffery pre-snap to weakside, incomplete quick out

Foles dash right, Tate touchdown on quick out

A couple of those plays in there just featured huge individual efforts – the Goedert YAC, the Agholor YAC, and that tough catch from Ertz in traffic, the pass thrown almost over his head. Foles hit four different receivers on the drive and two different backs carried the ball. They showed some 12 personnel and some 11 personnel.

My favorite play call was #8, where they lined up Alshon in some sort of pistol/jumbo hybrid look, then motioned him down and threw it to him for about a ten yard gain. I couldn’t rip a clean video of this, because there was a hitch in the stream, so I’ll show you the diagram instead:

Wild stuff. Alshon in the pistol? Two tailbacks running flares? Two tight-ends also running routes? Really cool stuff.

I also swear I saw a Chicago three man rush in there somewhere, which was ridiculous. It could have been on the drive before this one, but still, who rushes three, ever? It should be illegal for Vic Fangio to rush three with the personnel he has.

2) Tipped!

Cody Parkey’s field goal was actually tipped by defensive tackle Treyvon Hester, which nobody realized until something like 45 minutes or an hour after the game.

This was the first clip to make the rounds:

Here’s a frame-by-frame look that clearly shows the Parkey kick was tipped by Treyvon Hester (Hester confirmed to @Bo_Wulf he tipped it). pic.twitter.com/6dOXui7Yyp

— Scott Gustin (@ScottGustin) January 7, 2019

Here’s another good angle, and if you pause it right at eight seconds, the ball does indeed appear to be slightly misdirected to the left:

Watch this video in slow-mo…Treyvon Hester comes up with a huge block off the tip of the fingers forcing the change of trajectory in the kick…wow. #CodyParkey #FLyEaglesFly pic.twitter.com/e3jBT3VazL

— Z (@KingZouric) January 7, 2019

I kind of felt bad for Parkey after the game, getting booed off the field and whatnot. But I’m sure most football fans don’t give a shit, since he’s still a millionaire.

3) Offensive success

Some 11 personnel, some 12 personnel, some timely deep shots and penalty flags, plus a few wrinkles here or there. All of that was good enough to win the game.

The Bears came into the postseason allowing 299 yards and 17.7 points per game and the Eagles finished with 300 and 18, so this matchup really played out the way a lot of people thought it would. Philly couldn’t really run the ball but stayed committed to the tune of 23 attempts for 42 yards, which is a 1.8 average. 17 of the Eagles’ 21 first downs took place through the air, two were from penalties, and the other two came on the ground.

Doug’s squad converted six of 13 third down attempts, good for 46.1%, which is 14 percentage points better than what Chicago was allowing on the season. That’s pretty significant. The Bears had only been allowing a 32% success rate on opponent third downs, but the Eagles got some key pickups to move the chains and balance the time of possession.

41 to 22 was the pass/run split, so that’s 65% to 35%, right on the money, which I think is probably where we expected it be. I would not have been surprised to see that number move into the 70% range, considering that they threw it that frequently in the Houston win.

Chicago finished with six tackles for loss and five quarterback hits, but Nick did a great job of taking those hits while getting rid of the ball and he was sacked just once on the evening. The offensive line did a nice job pass protecting against Khalil Mack, Akiem Hicks, and the rest of the excellent dudes on that line.

Sheil had a good stat about the line:

Eagles have faced Aaron Donald, J.J. Watt and Khalil Mack during their four-game winning streak.

Those three players have combined for a TOTAL of zero sacks and three QB hits against them.

Big credit to the offensive line and coaches for game-planning.

— Sheil Kapadia (@SheilKapadia) January 7, 2019

Bravo, offensive line.

4) Defensive success

They did what they needed to do, which was put the game on Mitch Trubisky’s shoulders.

“Tru” finished 26/43 for 303 yards, a touchdown, and zero interceptions (should have been at least one), so I guess you could probably make an argument that he did enough to win them the game. He made some really nice fourth quarter throws to pick up chunk yardage and get Chicago down the field.

Four things I think the Eagles did well:

showed good discipline with Nagy’s gadgety/bullshit type of plays (which he didn’t seem to rely on as much last night as he did in the regular season)

tackled well (not a lot of whiffs)

limited Trubisky in the scramble and running game

essentially shut down Tarik Cohen until the late kick return

In addition to that, Jordan Howard only carried the ball ten times for 35 yards, so he wasn’t much of a factor. Cohen carried the ball once for zero yards, but the Eagles also limited him to just 3 catches for 27 yards and didn’t allow him to do much in space.

Trubisky took two sacks for 12 yards and ended up with nine ground yards on three carries. Nigel Bradham did a superb job spying him and moving laterally all game long, stuffing a bunch of the east/west stuff Chicago threw at the Eagles.

The only true disappointments you could point to were Maddox (who played well for three quarters) biting on those late double moves, plus the interceptions that were dropped. Allen Robinson was the only guy who did any kind of consistent damage, and the defense kept this game close when the Eagles were having trouble scoring early. Chicago averaged 23.3 points per game in the regular season and the Birds held them to 15 in their own building last night.

5) Drive positioning

In the regular season, the Eagles began their drives, on average, at their own 28 yard line.

For a while last night, the Bears were on top of the Birds with expert field-flipping, and the game finished with the Eagles starting their drives from these points:

own 25

own 1

own 7

own 25

own 32

own 17

own 17

own 26

own 14

own 40

Don’t underestimate the defensive series leading up to the game-winning drive. The Birds forced a three and out, pushed Chicago back two yards, and then got the benefit of a weak, 36 yard punt from Pat O’Donnell. That set up the Eagles with their best field position of the entire night, if you can believe it.

Prior to that drive, the Eagles only started past their season average once. If you add it all up, the Eagles started at their 20 yard line on average last night, which is eight yards deeper than their typical starting point. They really were pinned down a couple of times and did a good job of digging out. The only real nail-biting moment was Smallwood’s escape from what could have been a safety on the second drive.

6) “hey ref, you’re blowing the game”

Officiating items of note:

The Sproles 3rd down run on the third drive: He was stopped about a half-yard short of the marker and was given the first down anyway.

Michael Bennett roughing the passer: obviously he can’t punch the guy in the face, but Kyle Long is grabbing him by the shoulder pads up around the neck area well away from the play, which was corny.

The Avonte Maddox non-interception: pretty straightforward; his elbow touched down out of bounds. Avonte bobbled the first clean look, then ran out of real estate at the sideline.

The helmet to helmet hit on Zach Ertz: obvious contact with helmet, easy call.

The pass interference against Jordan Matthews: correct, Amukamara had him hooked and Matthews couldn’t free up his arm

Golden Tate: felt like he was interfered with on that no-call in the fourth quarter; the linebacker didn’t even turn his head around at all before making contact

The Smallwood two-point conversion: man, that was close.. I’d love to see goal line technology, the kind they use in some soccer leagues, though with all of the bodies in there I’m not sure how accurate the video would be

And then you have the “no clear recovery” ridiculousness before halftime, which still has me scratching my head.

Here is the explanation from the NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE:

Instant Replay Casebook, Page 11: pic.twitter.com/2YhK2qT310

— NFL Officiating (@NFLOfficiating) January 6, 2019

I guess the lesson is this: jump on any loose ball you can find, anywhere on the field, even if the whistle was already blown dead.

7) Auxiliary wins and losses

Here they are:

won time of possession, 30:48 minutes to 29:12 minutes

-2 turnover margin

6-13 on third down (46%)

1-1 on fourth down (game winning score)

allowed Bears to go 5-16 on third down (31%)

lost 8 yards on 1 sack

2-3 success rate in the red zone

3 penalties for 25 yards

They were -2 in turnover margin and found a way to win. I think that was primarily due to the great first-half defense and the way they limited Chicago on third downs. After that string of defensive penalties it was pretty much clean football down the stretch, so they really just executed well in other areas to wipe away the pair of interceptions. This was one of those games similar to a Sixers’ performance, where the turnovers don’t matter because they do well in offensive rebounding, three-point shooting, or a different auxiliary category.

The TOP is a big win as well. Plus-48 seconds doesn’t seem like much of an advantage at all, but Philly and Chicago were both top-three time of possession teams this season on the strength of their run defenses, and the Eagles went on the road and were able to do what they normally do in a difficult environment.

8) Doug’s best call?

I liked his play calls on the final drive and opening drive, particular the way he mixed and matched formations and personnel groupings and varied his under center and shotgun looks to keep Chicago off balance. Maybe he did run the ball too much, but he at least committed to the ground game, which did not allow the Bears to simply tee off in what would have been obvious passing situations. I think that probably helped the offensive line a bit.

One that I didn’t mention earlier was the Smallwood screen on that first drive, the big 22 yard gain that sort of set the tone and allowed them to continue down the field for three points. I honestly thought we might see more of Sproles in the screen game, since that’s something that stood out to me as a Bears’ weakness when I watched the film, just like Mike Mayock.

I also liked the wildcat look on the failed two-point conversion. Nice wrinkle, just about an inch away from success.

9) Doug’s worst call?

I liked the first Smallwood screen, but the one near the goal line was really iffy. I also didn’t really get the delayed handoff to Sproles on that one third down, the bobbled snap. Sometimes you can catch teams off guard with those third down runs, since they think it’s an obvious passing situation, but the Eagles weren’t running the ball for much of anything last night, so that felt risky to me.

The only other thing I disliked was obviously running Sproles twice in the red zone on the final drive. Imagine if the Eagles had lost this game; people would be outraged with those two calls and calling for Doug’s head.

10) The broadcast

Listen, I’m alright with Cris Collinsworth because it at least seems like he gives a shit about his job and shows some natural emotion throughout the course of a game. He seemed pretty dialed-in last night and identified some good X’s and O’s type of things. He did a nice job with the “color” part of color commentary.

Al Michaels was Al Michaels – kind of sleepy and only sort of there, though he did perk up at times. He blessed us with a Chase “Daniels” reference and I also appreciated how he tried make “LeBlanc” sound as French as possible every time he said Cre’Von’s last name. Michaels also had a weird sentence after the LeBlanc pass break-up/non fumble where he jumbled something like five words together. Did you hear that? It sounded like he just mushed an entire sentence into three syllables.

I also appreciate Michaels taking shots at the NFL rulebook and NFL officiating. He’s right, you know. It is easier to understand the Dead Sea Scrolls than whatever is written in that 400 page PDF file.

The only true gripe I had with the broadcast was that there were too many shots of Carson Wentz on the sidelines. Yes, he was the starting quarterback. No, he’s not playing in this current game. We are going to be subjected to 40 million hours of “Foles vs. Wentz” takes in the next five weeks, so I don’t need to see it or hear about it during the national game broadcast. Foles is in the game, so show Nick Foles.

Here’s the thing:

We are only blessed with 20-23 days per year that we can actually watch the Eagles. On the other 341 to 344 days, we just talk about the same shit over and over again, so let’s please keep it to on-field storylines when the game is actually taking place.

Thank you.

The post Double Doink! – Ten Takeaways from Eagles 16, Bears 15 appeared first on Crossing Broad.

Double Doink! – Ten Takeaways from Eagles 16, Bears 15 published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

[flauntpage]

Double Doink! – Ten Takeaways from Eagles 16, Bears 15

Nick Foles left the field with the lead..

and…..

…this time he won.

Holy mackerel! Holy cow! Holy cannoli! Pick whatever animal or dessert you want; you just can’t write a crazier script than that. I thought for sure we were watching a replay of the 2014 Saints game, a walk-off field goal to knock the Eagles out of the playoffs. The Foles era and the Super Bowl title defense would come to an end at the foot of Cody Parkey, who instead hit the upright AND the crossbar on the final play of the evening. It was a double doink, like that one time the WWF brought out two clowns at the same time to beat the crap out of Crush at  Wrestlemania IX. 

Seriously though, what a game. The Eagles blew opportunities and made mistakes, namely the pair of interceptions and a couple of dropped picks to go along with a bobbled third-down hand-off and some killer, drive-extending defensive penalties. I thought it was over when Chicago started picking on Avonte Maddox on their fourth-quarter touchdown drive, but “not so fast my friend,” as the great Lee Corso once said. Foles got it done, Doug Pederson just barely out-dueled Matt Nagy, and the Birds got some luck to go their way, which really hasn’t happened too often this season.

It sets up another crack at the Saints in the Superdome, this time with Foles leading the charge. If you like the “underdog” storyline, then this is your type of game. The Birds get their revenge shot and really have nothing at all to lose heading into the divisional round against asshole Sean Payton, who ran up the score in the regular season meeting.

On the flip side, the only thing we’re going to hear about this week is the “Nick Foles vs. Carson Wentz” argument, which I think will continue throughout the summer and into eternity, or as long as 94 WIP and 97.5 the Fanatic are broadcasting.

But for now let’s enjoy the win, beginning with:

1) The final drive

12 plays, 60 yards, 3:52 off the clock.

They started on their own 40 yard line with 4:48 remaining and methodically moved the ball down the field. Foles was 6-9 on the drive with a two-yard touchdown on a pseudo-sprint out that targeted Golden Tate on the goal line.

I wasn’t sure about Doug’s decision to run Darren Sproles twice in the red zone, but some of the other play calls were superb. He and Nagy really started going deep into the playbook in the fourth quarter, and Pederson rolled with this:

play action, deep seam to Alshon Jeffery

pre-snap motion, play action, Foles pressured and incomplete

trips left, fake screen left, fake screen right, RELEASE THE TIGHT END up the right seam (Goedert breaks two tackles)

play action, shallow out to Nelson Agholor, broken tackle, nice pickup

12 personnel, more pre snap motion, Zach Ertz in the middle, difficult catch

Wendell Smallwood left guard for about a yard

empty set, clear out for Agholor, incomplete

jumbo/pistol, motion Jeffery, hit him on seam for first down

Sproles run

Sproles run

Jeffery pre-snap to weakside, incomplete quick out

Foles dash right, Tate touchdown on quick out

A couple of those plays in there just featured huge individual efforts – the Goedert YAC, the Agholor YAC, and that tough catch from Ertz in traffic, the pass thrown almost over his head. Foles hit four different receivers on the drive and two different backs carried the ball. They showed some 12 personnel and some 11 personnel.

My favorite play call was #8, where they lined up Alshon in some sort of pistol/jumbo hybrid look, then motioned him down and threw it to him for about a ten yard gain. I couldn’t rip a clean video of this, because there was a hitch in the stream, so I’ll show you the diagram instead:

Wild stuff. Alshon in the pistol? Two tailbacks running flares? Two tight-ends also running routes? Really cool stuff.

I also swear I saw a Chicago three man rush in there somewhere, which was ridiculous. It could have been on the drive before this one, but still, who rushes three, ever? It should be illegal for Vic Fangio to rush three with the personnel he has.

2) Tipped!

Cody Parkey’s field goal was actually tipped by defensive tackle Treyvon Hester, which nobody realized until something like 45 minutes or an hour after the game.

This was the first clip to make the rounds:

Here’s a frame-by-frame look that clearly shows the Parkey kick was tipped by Treyvon Hester (Hester confirmed to @Bo_Wulf he tipped it). pic.twitter.com/6dOXui7Yyp

— Scott Gustin (@ScottGustin) January 7, 2019

Here’s another good angle, and if you pause it right at eight seconds, the ball does indeed appear to be slightly misdirected to the left:

Watch this video in slow-mo…Treyvon Hester comes up with a huge block off the tip of the fingers forcing the change of trajectory in the kick…wow. #CodyParkey #FLyEaglesFly pic.twitter.com/e3jBT3VazL

— Z (@KingZouric) January 7, 2019

I kind of felt bad for Parkey after the game, getting booed off the field and whatnot. But I’m sure most football fans don’t give a shit, since he’s still a millionaire.

3) Offensive success

Some 11 personnel, some 12 personnel, some timely deep shots and penalty flags, plus a few wrinkles here or there. All of that was good enough to win the game.

The Bears came into the postseason allowing 299 yards and 17.7 points per game and the Eagles finished with 300 and 18, so this matchup really played out the way a lot of people thought it would. Philly couldn’t really run the ball but stayed committed to the tune of 23 attempts for 42 yards, which is a 1.8 average. 17 of the Eagles’ 21 first downs took place through the air, two were from penalties, and the other two came on the ground.

Doug’s squad converted six of 13 third down attempts, good for 46.1%, which is 14 percentage points better than what Chicago was allowing on the season. That’s pretty significant. The Bears had only been allowing a 32% success rate on opponent third downs, but the Eagles got some key pickups to move the chains and balance the time of possession.

41 to 22 was the pass/run split, so that’s 65% to 35%, right on the money, which I think is probably where we expected it be. I would not have been surprised to see that number move into the 70% range, considering that they threw it that frequently in the Houston win.

Chicago finished with six tackles for loss and five quarterback hits, but Nick did a great job of taking those hits while getting rid of the ball and he was sacked just once on the evening. The offensive line did a nice job pass protecting against Khalil Mack, Akiem Hicks, and the rest of the excellent dudes on that line.

Sheil had a good stat about the line:

Eagles have faced Aaron Donald, J.J. Watt and Khalil Mack during their four-game winning streak.

Those three players have combined for a TOTAL of zero sacks and three QB hits against them.

Big credit to the offensive line and coaches for game-planning.

— Sheil Kapadia (@SheilKapadia) January 7, 2019

Bravo, offensive line.

4) Defensive success

They did what they needed to do, which was put the game on Mitch Trubisky’s shoulders.

“Tru” finished 26/43 for 303 yards, a touchdown, and zero interceptions (should have been at least one), so I guess you could probably make an argument that he did enough to win them the game. He made some really nice fourth quarter throws to pick up chunk yardage and get Chicago down the field.

Four things I think the Eagles did well:

showed good discipline with Nagy’s gadgety/bullshit type of plays (which he didn’t seem to rely on as much last night as he did in the regular season)

tackled well (not a lot of whiffs)

limited Trubisky in the scramble and running game

essentially shut down Tarik Cohen until the late kick return

In addition to that, Jordan Howard only carried the ball ten times for 35 yards, so he wasn’t much of a factor. Cohen carried the ball once for zero yards, but the Eagles also limited him to just 3 catches for 27 yards and didn’t allow him to do much in space.

Trubisky took two sacks for 12 yards and ended up with nine ground yards on three carries. Nigel Bradham did a superb job spying him and moving laterally all game long, stuffing a bunch of the east/west stuff Chicago threw at the Eagles.

The only true disappointments you could point to were Maddox (who played well for three quarters) biting on those late double moves, plus the interceptions that were dropped. Allen Robinson was the only guy who did any kind of consistent damage, and the defense kept this game close when the Eagles were having trouble scoring early. Chicago averaged 23.3 points per game in the regular season and the Birds held them to 15 in their own building last night.

5) Drive positioning

In the regular season, the Eagles began their drives, on average, at their own 28 yard line.

For a while last night, the Bears were on top of the Birds with expert field-flipping, and the game finished with the Eagles starting their drives from these points:

own 25

own 1

own 7

own 25

own 32

own 17

own 17

own 26

own 14

own 40

Don’t underestimate the defensive series leading up to the game-winning drive. The Birds forced a three and out, pushed Chicago back two yards, and then got the benefit of a weak, 36 yard punt from Pat O’Donnell. That set up the Eagles with their best field position of the entire night, if you can believe it.

Prior to that drive, the Eagles only started past their season average once. If you add it all up, the Eagles started at their 20 yard line on average last night, which is eight yards deeper than their typical starting point. They really were pinned down a couple of times and did a good job of digging out. The only real nail-biting moment was Smallwood’s escape from what could have been a safety on the second drive.

6) “hey ref, you’re blowing the game”

Officiating items of note:

The Sproles 3rd down run on the third drive: He was stopped about a half-yard short of the marker and was given the first down anyway.

Michael Bennett roughing the passer: obviously he can’t punch the guy in the face, but Kyle Long is grabbing him by the shoulder pads up around the neck area well away from the play, which was corny.

The Avonte Maddox non-interception: pretty straightforward; his elbow touched down out of bounds. Avonte bobbled the first clean look, then ran out of real estate at the sideline.

The helmet to helmet hit on Zach Ertz: obvious contact with helmet, easy call.

The pass interference against Jordan Matthews: correct, Amukamara had him hooked and Matthews couldn’t free up his arm

Golden Tate: felt like he was interfered with on that no-call in the fourth quarter; the linebacker didn’t even turn his head around at all before making contact

The Smallwood two-point conversion: man, that was close.. I’d love to see goal line technology, the kind they use in some soccer leagues, though with all of the bodies in there I’m not sure how accurate the video would be

And then you have the “no clear recovery” ridiculousness before halftime, which still has me scratching my head.

Here is the explanation from the NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE:

Instant Replay Casebook, Page 11: pic.twitter.com/2YhK2qT310

— NFL Officiating (@NFLOfficiating) January 6, 2019

I guess the lesson is this: jump on any loose ball you can find, anywhere on the field, even if the whistle was already blown dead.

7) Auxiliary wins and losses

Here they are:

won time of possession, 30:48 minutes to 29:12 minutes

-2 turnover margin

6-13 on third down (46%)

1-1 on fourth down (game winning score)

allowed Bears to go 5-16 on third down (31%)

lost 8 yards on 1 sack

2-3 success rate in the red zone

3 penalties for 25 yards

They were -2 in turnover margin and found a way to win. I think that was primarily due to the great first-half defense and the way they limited Chicago on third downs. After that string of defensive penalties it was pretty much clean football down the stretch, so they really just executed well in other areas to wipe away the pair of interceptions. This was one of those games similar to a Sixers’ performance, where the turnovers don’t matter because they do well in offensive rebounding, three-point shooting, or a different auxiliary category.

The TOP is a big win as well. Plus-48 seconds doesn’t seem like much of an advantage at all, but Philly and Chicago were both top-three time of possession teams this season on the strength of their run defenses, and the Eagles went on the road and were able to do what they normally do in a difficult environment.

8) Doug’s best call?

I liked his play calls on the final drive and opening drive, particular the way he mixed and matched formations and personnel groupings and varied his under center and shotgun looks to keep Chicago off balance. Maybe he did run the ball too much, but he at least committed to the ground game, which did not allow the Bears to simply tee off in what would have been obvious passing situations. I think that probably helped the offensive line a bit.

One that I didn’t mention earlier was the Smallwood screen on that first drive, the big 22 yard gain that sort of set the tone and allowed them to continue down the field for three points. I honestly thought we might see more of Sproles in the screen game, since that’s something that stood out to me as a Bears’ weakness when I watched the film, just like Mike Mayock.

I also liked the wildcat look on the failed two-point conversion. Nice wrinkle, just about an inch away from success.

9) Doug’s worst call?

I liked the first Smallwood screen, but the one near the goal line was really iffy. I also didn’t really get the delayed handoff to Sproles on that one third down, the bobbled snap. Sometimes you can catch teams off guard with those third down runs, since they think it’s an obvious passing situation, but the Eagles weren’t running the ball for much of anything last night, so that felt risky to me.

The only other thing I disliked was obviously running Sproles twice in the red zone on the final drive. Imagine if the Eagles had lost this game; people would be outraged with those two calls and calling for Doug’s head.

10) The broadcast

Listen, I’m alright with Cris Collinsworth because it at least seems like he gives a shit about his job and shows some natural emotion throughout the course of a game. He seemed pretty dialed-in last night and identified some good X’s and O’s type of things. He did a nice job with the “color” part of color commentary.

Al Michaels was Al Michaels – kind of sleepy and only sort of there, though he did perk up at times. He blessed us with a Chase “Daniels” reference and I also appreciated how he tried make “LeBlanc” sound as French as possible every time he said Cre’Von’s last name. Michaels also had a weird sentence after the LeBlanc pass break-up/non fumble where he jumbled something like five words together. Did you hear that? It sounded like he just mushed an entire sentence into three syllables.

I also appreciate Michaels taking shots at the NFL rulebook and NFL officiating. He’s right, you know. It is easier to understand the Dead Sea Scrolls than whatever is written in that 400 page PDF file.

The only true gripe I had with the broadcast was that there were too many shots of Carson Wentz on the sidelines. Yes, he was the starting quarterback. No, he’s not playing in this current game. We are going to be subjected to 40 million hours of “Foles vs. Wentz” takes in the next five weeks, so I don’t need to see it or hear about it during the national game broadcast. Foles is in the game, so show Nick Foles.

Here’s the thing:

We are only blessed with 20-23 days per year that we can actually watch the Eagles. On the other 341 to 344 days, we just talk about the same shit over and over again, so let’s please keep it to on-field storylines when the game is actually taking place.

Thank you.

The post Double Doink! – Ten Takeaways from Eagles 16, Bears 15 appeared first on Crossing Broad.

Double Doink! – Ten Takeaways from Eagles 16, Bears 15 published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

[flauntpage]

Double Doink! – Ten Takeaways from Eagles 16, Bears 15

Nick Foles left the field with the lead..

and…..

…this time he won.

Holy mackerel! Holy cow! Holy cannoli! Pick whatever animal or dessert you want; you just can’t write a crazier script than that. I thought for sure we were watching a replay of the 2014 Saints game, a walk-off field goal to knock the Eagles out of the playoffs. The Foles era and the Super Bowl title defense would come to an end at the foot of Cody Parkey, who instead hit the upright AND the crossbar on the final play of the evening. It was a double doink, like that one time the WWF brought out two clowns at the same time to beat the crap out of Crush at  Wrestlemania IX. 

Seriously though, what a game. The Eagles blew opportunities and made mistakes, namely the pair of interceptions and a couple of dropped picks to go along with a bobbled third-down hand-off and some killer, drive-extending defensive penalties. I thought it was over when Chicago started picking on Avonte Maddox on their fourth-quarter touchdown drive, but “not so fast my friend,” as the great Lee Corso once said. Foles got it done, Doug Pederson just barely out-dueled Matt Nagy, and the Birds got some luck to go their way, which really hasn’t happened too often this season.

It sets up another crack at the Saints in the Superdome, this time with Foles leading the charge. If you like the “underdog” storyline, then this is your type of game. The Birds get their revenge shot and really have nothing at all to lose heading into the divisional round against asshole Sean Payton, who ran up the score in the regular season meeting.

On the flip side, the only thing we’re going to hear about this week is the “Nick Foles vs. Carson Wentz” argument, which I think will continue throughout the summer and into eternity, or as long as 94 WIP and 97.5 the Fanatic are broadcasting.

But for now let’s enjoy the win, beginning with:

1) The final drive

12 plays, 60 yards, 3:52 off the clock.

They started on their own 40 yard line with 4:48 remaining and methodically moved the ball down the field. Foles was 6-9 on the drive with a two-yard touchdown on a pseudo-sprint out that targeted Golden Tate on the goal line.

I wasn’t sure about Doug’s decision to run Darren Sproles twice in the red zone, but some of the other play calls were superb. He and Nagy really started going deep into the playbook in the fourth quarter, and Pederson rolled with this:

play action, deep seam to Alshon Jeffery

pre-snap motion, play action, Foles pressured and incomplete

trips left, fake screen left, fake screen right, RELEASE THE TIGHT END up the right seam (Goedert breaks two tackles)

play action, shallow out to Nelson Agholor, broken tackle, nice pickup

12 personnel, more pre snap motion, Zach Ertz in the middle, difficult catch

Wendell Smallwood left guard for about a yard

empty set, clear out for Agholor, incomplete

jumbo/pistol, motion Jeffery, hit him on seam for first down

Sproles run

Sproles run

Jeffery pre-snap to weakside, incomplete quick out

Foles dash right, Tate touchdown on quick out

A couple of those plays in there just featured huge individual efforts – the Goedert YAC, the Agholor YAC, and that tough catch from Ertz in traffic, the pass thrown almost over his head. Foles hit four different receivers on the drive and two different backs carried the ball. They showed some 12 personnel and some 11 personnel.

My favorite play call was #8, where they lined up Alshon in some sort of pistol/jumbo hybrid look, then motioned him down and threw it to him for about a ten yard gain. I couldn’t rip a clean video of this, because there was a hitch in the stream, so I’ll show you the diagram instead:

Wild stuff. Alshon in the pistol? Two tailbacks running flares? Two tight-ends also running routes? Really cool stuff.

I also swear I saw a Chicago three man rush in there somewhere, which was ridiculous. It could have been on the drive before this one, but still, who rushes three, ever? It should be illegal for Vic Fangio to rush three with the personnel he has.

2) Tipped!

Cody Parkey’s field goal was actually tipped by defensive tackle Treyvon Hester, which nobody realized until something like 45 minutes or an hour after the game.

This was the first clip to make the rounds:

Here’s a frame-by-frame look that clearly shows the Parkey kick was tipped by Treyvon Hester (Hester confirmed to @Bo_Wulf he tipped it). pic.twitter.com/6dOXui7Yyp

— Scott Gustin (@ScottGustin) January 7, 2019

Here’s another good angle, and if you pause it right at eight seconds, the ball does indeed appear to be slightly misdirected to the left:

Watch this video in slow-mo…Treyvon Hester comes up with a huge block off the tip of the fingers forcing the change of trajectory in the kick…wow. #CodyParkey #FLyEaglesFly pic.twitter.com/e3jBT3VazL

— Z (@KingZouric) January 7, 2019

I kind of felt bad for Parkey after the game, getting booed off the field and whatnot. But I’m sure most football fans don’t give a shit, since he’s still a millionaire.

3) Offensive success

Some 11 personnel, some 12 personnel, some timely deep shots and penalty flags, plus a few wrinkles here or there. All of that was good enough to win the game.

The Bears came into the postseason allowing 299 yards and 17.7 points per game and the Eagles finished with 300 and 18, so this matchup really played out the way a lot of people thought it would. Philly couldn’t really run the ball but stayed committed to the tune of 23 attempts for 42 yards, which is a 1.8 average. 17 of the Eagles’ 21 first downs took place through the air, two were from penalties, and the other two came on the ground.

Doug’s squad converted six of 13 third down attempts, good for 46.1%, which is 14 percentage points better than what Chicago was allowing on the season. That’s pretty significant. The Bears had only been allowing a 32% success rate on opponent third downs, but the Eagles got some key pickups to move the chains and balance the time of possession.

41 to 22 was the pass/run split, so that’s 65% to 35%, right on the money, which I think is probably where we expected it be. I would not have been surprised to see that number move into the 70% range, considering that they threw it that frequently in the Houston win.

Chicago finished with six tackles for loss and five quarterback hits, but Nick did a great job of taking those hits while getting rid of the ball and he was sacked just once on the evening. The offensive line did a nice job pass protecting against Khalil Mack, Akiem Hicks, and the rest of the excellent dudes on that line.

Sheil had a good stat about the line:

Eagles have faced Aaron Donald, J.J. Watt and Khalil Mack during their four-game winning streak.

Those three players have combined for a TOTAL of zero sacks and three QB hits against them.

Big credit to the offensive line and coaches for game-planning.

— Sheil Kapadia (@SheilKapadia) January 7, 2019

Bravo, offensive line.

4) Defensive success

They did what they needed to do, which was put the game on Mitch Trubisky’s shoulders.

“Tru” finished 26/43 for 303 yards, a touchdown, and zero interceptions (should have been at least one), so I guess you could probably make an argument that he did enough to win them the game. He made some really nice fourth quarter throws to pick up chunk yardage and get Chicago down the field.

Four things I think the Eagles did well:

showed good discipline with Nagy’s gadgety/bullshit type of plays (which he didn’t seem to rely on as much last night as he did in the regular season)

tackled well (not a lot of whiffs)

limited Trubisky in the scramble and running game

essentially shut down Tarik Cohen until the late kick return

In addition to that, Jordan Howard only carried the ball ten times for 35 yards, so he wasn’t much of a factor. Cohen carried the ball once for zero yards, but the Eagles also limited him to just 3 catches for 27 yards and didn’t allow him to do much in space.

Trubisky took two sacks for 12 yards and ended up with nine ground yards on three carries. Nigel Bradham did a superb job spying him and moving laterally all game long, stuffing a bunch of the east/west stuff Chicago threw at the Eagles.

The only true disappointments you could point to were Maddox (who played well for three quarters) biting on those late double moves, plus the interceptions that were dropped. Allen Robinson was the only guy who did any kind of consistent damage, and the defense kept this game close when the Eagles were having trouble scoring early. Chicago averaged 23.3 points per game in the regular season and the Birds held them to 15 in their own building last night.

5) Drive positioning

In the regular season, the Eagles began their drives, on average, at their own 28 yard line.

For a while last night, the Bears were on top of the Birds with expert field-flipping, and the game finished with the Eagles starting their drives from these points:

own 25

own 1

own 7

own 25

own 32

own 17

own 17

own 26

own 14

own 40

Don’t underestimate the defensive series leading up to the game-winning drive. The Birds forced a three and out, pushed Chicago back two yards, and then got the benefit of a weak, 36 yard punt from Pat O’Donnell. That set up the Eagles with their best field position of the entire night, if you can believe it.

Prior to that drive, the Eagles only started past their season average once. If you add it all up, the Eagles started at their 20 yard line on average last night, which is eight yards deeper than their typical starting point. They really were pinned down a couple of times and did a good job of digging out. The only real nail-biting moment was Smallwood’s escape from what could have been a safety on the second drive.

6) “hey ref, you’re blowing the game”

Officiating items of note:

The Sproles 3rd down run on the third drive: He was stopped about a half-yard short of the marker and was given the first down anyway.

Michael Bennett roughing the passer: obviously he can’t punch the guy in the face, but Kyle Long is grabbing him by the shoulder pads up around the neck area well away from the play, which was corny.

The Avonte Maddox non-interception: pretty straightforward; his elbow touched down out of bounds. Avonte bobbled the first clean look, then ran out of real estate at the sideline.

The helmet to helmet hit on Zach Ertz: obvious contact with helmet, easy call.

The pass interference against Jordan Matthews: correct, Amukamara had him hooked and Matthews couldn’t free up his arm

Golden Tate: felt like he was interfered with on that no-call in the fourth quarter; the linebacker didn’t even turn his head around at all before making contact

The Smallwood two-point conversion: man, that was close.. I’d love to see goal line technology, the kind they use in some soccer leagues, though with all of the bodies in there I’m not sure how accurate the video would be

And then you have the “no clear recovery” ridiculousness before halftime, which still has me scratching my head.

Here is the explanation from the NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE:

Instant Replay Casebook, Page 11: pic.twitter.com/2YhK2qT310

— NFL Officiating (@NFLOfficiating) January 6, 2019

I guess the lesson is this: jump on any loose ball you can find, anywhere on the field, even if the whistle was already blown dead.

7) Auxiliary wins and losses

Here they are:

won time of possession, 30:48 minutes to 29:12 minutes

-2 turnover margin

6-13 on third down (46%)

1-1 on fourth down (game winning score)

allowed Bears to go 5-16 on third down (31%)

lost 8 yards on 1 sack

2-3 success rate in the red zone

3 penalties for 25 yards

They were -2 in turnover margin and found a way to win. I think that was primarily due to the great first-half defense and the way they limited Chicago on third downs. After that string of defensive penalties it was pretty much clean football down the stretch, so they really just executed well in other areas to wipe away the pair of interceptions. This was one of those games similar to a Sixers’ performance, where the turnovers don’t matter because they do well in offensive rebounding, three-point shooting, or a different auxiliary category.

The TOP is a big win as well. Plus-48 seconds doesn’t seem like much of an advantage at all, but Philly and Chicago were both top-three time of possession teams this season on the strength of their run defenses, and the Eagles went on the road and were able to do what they normally do in a difficult environment.

8) Doug’s best call?

I liked his play calls on the final drive and opening drive, particular the way he mixed and matched formations and personnel groupings and varied his under center and shotgun looks to keep Chicago off balance. Maybe he did run the ball too much, but he at least committed to the ground game, which did not allow the Bears to simply tee off in what would have been obvious passing situations. I think that probably helped the offensive line a bit.

One that I didn’t mention earlier was the Smallwood screen on that first drive, the big 22 yard gain that sort of set the tone and allowed them to continue down the field for three points. I honestly thought we might see more of Sproles in the screen game, since that’s something that stood out to me as a Bears’ weakness when I watched the film, just like Mike Mayock.

I also liked the wildcat look on the failed two-point conversion. Nice wrinkle, just about an inch away from success.

9) Doug’s worst call?

I liked the first Smallwood screen, but the one near the goal line was really iffy. I also didn’t really get the delayed handoff to Sproles on that one third down, the bobbled snap. Sometimes you can catch teams off guard with those third down runs, since they think it’s an obvious passing situation, but the Eagles weren’t running the ball for much of anything last night, so that felt risky to me.

The only other thing I disliked was obviously running Sproles twice in the red zone on the final drive. Imagine if the Eagles had lost this game; people would be outraged with those two calls and calling for Doug’s head.

10) The broadcast

Listen, I’m alright with Cris Collinsworth because it at least seems like he gives a shit about his job and shows some natural emotion throughout the course of a game. He seemed pretty dialed-in last night and identified some good X’s and O’s type of things. He did a nice job with the “color” part of color commentary.

Al Michaels was Al Michaels – kind of sleepy and only sort of there, though he did perk up at times. He blessed us with a Chase “Daniels” reference and I also appreciated how he tried make “LeBlanc” sound as French as possible every time he said Cre’Von’s last name. Michaels also had a weird sentence after the LeBlanc pass break-up/non fumble where he jumbled something like five words together. Did you hear that? It sounded like he just mushed an entire sentence into three syllables.

I also appreciate Michaels taking shots at the NFL rulebook and NFL officiating. He’s right, you know. It is easier to understand the Dead Sea Scrolls than whatever is written in that 400 page PDF file.

The only true gripe I had with the broadcast was that there were too many shots of Carson Wentz on the sidelines. Yes, he was the starting quarterback. No, he’s not playing in this current game. We are going to be subjected to 40 million hours of “Foles vs. Wentz” takes in the next five weeks, so I don’t need to see it or hear about it during the national game broadcast. Foles is in the game, so show Nick Foles.

Here’s the thing:

We are only blessed with 20-23 days per year that we can actually watch the Eagles. On the other 341 to 344 days, we just talk about the same shit over and over again, so let’s please keep it to on-field storylines when the game is actually taking place.

Thank you.

The post Double Doink! – Ten Takeaways from Eagles 16, Bears 15 appeared first on Crossing Broad.

Double Doink! – Ten Takeaways from Eagles 16, Bears 15 published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/