#Everyone leaves after the first period (it’s a 2 per. block) and half the kids in the class aren’t actually in it they just come for fun

[remuslupinfarts]

If it’s November and I’ve had senioritis for like 2 months already then how bad will it be in springtime…I guess we’ll find out!

[passionate-hedgehog]

Spencer X Reader

Prompts #28- “You gotta stop doing that.” “What?” “Saying things that make me wanna kiss you.” & #30-  “The problem is,” he said as he leaned in. “If I kiss you now, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

A/N: This one was requested by @mishacastiel.

You're going to notice that these follow the same basics as the other ones. To make it easier for me they’ll all be connected somehow. It’s going to be canon/non-canon...does that make sense?

This is also as far as I’m going to get with smut, not very far. It’s not my thing. It’s totally insinuated in some posts, because whereas I’m abstinent by faith I’m not as disillusioned as to think that everyone I write about is. I’m still not going to write it, though.  

I got lots of requests for #30 and instead of re-using it I decided to keep it to this one. I think it pairs very well with #28 anyway. It’s like a good wine and cheese pairing...and now I want wine. Sigh.

OH YEAH- I should have mentioned this when I started this whole “Spencer imagines” thing that I’m fairly new to the fandom. I started two weeks ago, and as of me typing this on my laptop, I’m halfway through season 5. I’m really glad a co-worker slipped some info to me on this season beforehand because if I had gone into these episodes blind...I would have given up hope on all things love and pure. That brings me to my next question: Who does Hotch imagine?

You’d had a hard day at work. Some days were hectic as all get out and some days were so boring that you couldn’t wait to get out of your shift and do something productive (or just really fun) before you conked for a few hours. That particular shift was longer than anticipated. One of your residents ended up having to go to the ER. It was your first time going. Ever.

When you got in the passenger seat of the ambulance, you texted Spencer, your boyfriend of 2 and a half months. He was at home in his own bed, probably not awake yet for the day (your co-worker had called 911 at the end of your 3rd shift). When he didn’t reply for the duration of the ride to the hospital, you decided to just leave it for the time being. You had to leave lines of communication open with your supervisors and home managers anyway. Hospital visits could get busy, you’ve heard from your fellow co-workers. You wouldn’t have time.

After your resident had been set up into the ER, you checked your phone for the time. There were messages from the appropriate people at work but still nothing from Spencer. The guy wasn’t always a morning person, so it didn’t bother you, not entirely. To be honest, though, you kind of missed him. You hadn’t seen him in 2 days. It could get difficult when he was always away on cases, and you worked the night shift.

After Gertrude was finally officially admitted into the hospital from the emergency room, you were made to go home as per company policy. It was hard, though, because she was your favorite resident and you weren’t sure when you would see her again. You were positive that her condition wasn’t life-threatening, but she was a DNR, do not resuscitate. You still had fear. But your boss was your ride home and she was waiting for you out in the parking lot.

After giving Gert a slight kiss on the temple (she was hella knocked out), you made your way to the elevators and then eventually to the car. After writing your incident report in the car, you finally arrived at your apartment. You thanked your boss and made your way through your front door. You heaved a sigh and took off your jacket, then hanged it up. When you kicked off your shoes, you cocked your head and listened. After receiving no reply from your text early, you had hoped Spencer was going to surprise you. You should have known better.

Again, you weren’t completely offended. It was nearing lunchtime, and there was always a chance that he had to fly to a different city in a different state. It was OK. It was totally OK.

“I need Haagen-Dazs,” you heavily sighed. Sometimes the ice cream helped with the little white lies you told yourself.

When the pint of raspberry white chocolate truffle was opened, you grabbed a spoon and proceeded to throw yourself onto the sofa in the living room. You turned on the t.v. and prayed that The Price Is Right was on. Apparently, you were just going to keep receiving disappointments as the day wore on. You should have gone to bed, but your mind couldn’t stop racing.

After you had checked your phone, totally not the hundredth time since you first texted your boyfriend, you stood up for something. Of course, you forgot what it was and sat right back down. You got up again and started pacing after groaning at the sky.

“What is wrong with meeee?”

Nobody answered, you were home alone after all, and you weren’t sure if you should cry, take a shower, or try to sleep. Knowing that sleep was nowhere near possible, you decided to shower. Maybe you’d cry in there? I am losing my ever-loving mind.

When the hot shower didn’t do anything, you decided to switch it to cold to shave your legs. Why am I shaving in cold water, you shrugged but continued to skim the razor over your soaped up legs. You turned off the not-so-helpful water and ran your hands over your legs and made sure you didn’t miss anything. That’s when you got inspired.

“Why the eff am I home, alone, when I have a key to my boyfriend’s apartment that has rockin WiFi,” you asked yourself while you were still bent over feeling your legs. “And why am I talking to myself and asking questions?”

You scrounged your bedroom looking for a cute shirt to put on over your best pair of jeans. The one you picked was a hyacinth blue. When you looked at the ever growing pile of dirty clothes, you decided to use Spencer’s built-in amenities. He drank your coffee, you used his laundry detergent. Give and take, give and take.

The weather wasn’t too obscene for mid-February, and you decided to just walk the few blocks to his building. You were really glad that your job sometimes included lifting your residents and maneuvering their bodies because that laundry bag was no joke. You needed to remember that you were an adult and that you had to do your own laundry more than once a week.

Pfft, yeah okay.+

After making it up to his floor and throwing your jacket and extra key onto his side table, you walked into his bedroom. You sat the bag on the ground and decided to go for a pair of his sweats and sat on the bed to try to roll up the pant legs. That had failed miserably, and you threw your body back on his dark blue comforter in more frustration.

You stared up at his white ceiling and smiled when you tried to imagine what Little Spencer’s walls looked like all those years ago. I bet he had those glow-in-the-dark star stickers and I bet he put them in constellations. Your thoughts of what kid Spencer was like led you to the nap you so desperately needed. Dreams of being a kid and being Spencer’s playmate took over any frustrations you had following your shift.

When you awoke, it was to your best friend with his arm around your waist and his chest to your back. Sometimes your legs intertwining made it onto you Favorite’s list.

Okay, it made the list all the time. It was the top 3.

His even breathing into your hair made you realize that he was taking his own nap. From the corner of your eye, you could tell that the sky outside was darkening, but there were still splashes of pink and orange. You began to crave Superman ice cream and held in one of your groans of frustration.

That explains it! “My period!”

You quickly latched your hand to your mouth when you realized that you yelled that last part but it didn’t matter. Spencer’s hold was tightening, and you could hear him yawning from behind you. You held your breath and tried to wait it out, but he started stretching. You rolled your eyes.

“Awesome.”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend had hummed in confusion.

“Nothing, Spence. Go back to sleep.” The hand that was resting against his arm began to make soothing motions, but it got trapped by a bigger one.

Spencer must have mentally decided he was over looking at the back of your head because he pulled moved you onto your other side, to face him. He gave one of his beautiful lazy smiles and blinked softly. You just gazed into his eyes, waiting for him to get to the awareness level he wanted to be at. Given, not aware might be what he wanted.

When he didn’t snuggle up to you to go back to sleep, you realized that he was waiting on you for confirmation that it was okay to return to slumberland.

“Go back to sleep, Hun.” You fingers raked gently through his hair. “You gotta be exhausted. You had knocked the heck out when I woke up.”

He scrunched his nose in disagreement. “But you’re awake. When you’re awake, I’m awake.”

“Well, that’s not true. If that were the case, then neither of us would be getting any sleep ever,” you chuckled.

He chuckled and responded with “Oh the things we do for our careers. I’d go many moons without sleep if it meant I could get to spend more time with you.”

Blushing, you gave a soft snort. “Maybe if you could survive without resting that giant noodle of yours.”

“Okay Miss Smarty Pants, how long did it take you to give in to sleep after your shift, huh?” He was on his elbow now.

You followed suit. “Not that long. I’ll have you know, I got an adequate amount sleep.”

When his eyes narrowed at you, you held in your sigh of resignation. You weren’t going to give in that easily. Spencer couldn’t always win, could he?

“You got home, almost 5 hours after your shift was supposed to end, and went immediately for the ice cream. Haagen-Dazs to be more specific. You tried to do something to waste time, probably watch t.v. or read. I’m going to guess t.v. since your hands were busy. After you ate ALL the ice cream, you eventually decided to come over here and apparently do laundry. When that, for whatever reason, didn’t work out you decided to come in here and get comfy. Am I right?”

You didn’t answer him, so his fingers skimmed your sides, making you giggle.

“FINE. Yes. Yes, you’re right.”

“Thank you.”

“Mostly right, anyway. Not all of it was right. You missed the part about what happened after I came in here.”

“Oh?”

“I laid on your bed and imagined what your childhood ceiling looked like, imagined being your friend all those years ago. If you could see the stars from where you lay and if they were in all the right constellations. I bet you would have spent hours laying with me telling me them all, name by name. You would have traced them out with my hand.”

Spencer watched carefully as you drew out the only constellation you knew on the back of his arm, making goosebumps raise. He didn’t say anything.

“You would have taken the time to explain everything to me and made sure I understood it. You would have been patient with me too, and that’s more than what I would have deserved. Even after I would have zoned out, not that I would have wanted to, you would have kept tracing the constellations. There would have been nothing that could make you give up on me. Just like there would have been nothing that could have made me give up on you.”

When he still didn’t respond, his eyes never leaving yours, you went on. “Just like how there’s still nothing that could make me ever want to give up on you. Because you’re mine, and I love you.”

“Y/n,” he hummed your name and if that wasn’t one of the best sounds you had ever heard… “You gotta stop doing that.”

“What?”

“Saying things that make me wanna kiss you. The problem is,” Spencer said as he leaned in. “If I kiss you now, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

You fluttered your eyes clothes as he ran a hand down your spine and left it there at the base. You had re-opened your eyes to discover his were now sparkling and full of mischief. There was a side of Spencer you didn’t always get to see, and it was beginning to come out. Blessedly, it was a part of Spencer that only you ever got to witness.

A few moments slipped by, and he didn’t do anything else. You softly ran your fingernails from behind his ears and along his lower hairline to the nape of his neck, causing him to shiver. He didn’t move from his position, though. He was still halfway leaned in.

You lowered your hand and gently rested it on his waist, your thumb briefly disappearing under his shirt. He took it was a sign to gently lower you on your back but his eyes still never left you.

How blessed can I be, you thought, that I have such a wonderful man by my side to guide me through the worst of times and rejoice with me through the best of times.

Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the same thing but mirrored.

When his lips touched the base of your throat, you arched your back and gave a soft moan. There wasn’t a sign of him letting up, and then you remembered and began to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” He had asked when you didn’t cease.

“Oh man,” you wiped the tears from your eyes. “I completely forgot, and that could have been an extra mess we wouldn’t need.”

He kept his penance of confusion but raised his eyebrow.

“I just started my period. We won’t be having any of ‘that’ for a while.”

“And that’s funny because...”

“Because if I’m not laughing, I’ll cry and that’s about 3 more pints of ice cream you don’t have.”

Spencer lowered himself back onto the bed and sighed.

“Alright, but there’s ways around that.”

You had slid off the bed and headed towards the en-suite.  “Yeah, not a chance. Good try though,” you say as you walk into the bathroom and close the door, still laughing.

[ecotone99]

[RF] Cowardice

“No! Stop, please! Stop it!”

Timothy woke up to the sound of his mom screaming. He slowly got out of bed, rubbed his eyes, and walked downstairs. He saw his mom on the ground and his dad standing over her, with a bat in his hand.

“What are you doing down here, Tim? You know what, get over here.” Timothy hesitated and turned away. “Get over here right now!”

“Do what he says, Timothy,” His mom whispered.

Timothy walked to his dad. He held Timothy in front of him. “We’re leaving, Tim. We’re going to my house. How’s that sound?”

Timothy looked up at his dad. “We’re leaving mommy? I don’t want to leave her!”

“And that, Tim, is why you’ll never be a real man. You’re a coward! You’ll always be a coward! You’ll never be a real man!” His father pushed him aside and backhanded his face, making him fall to the ground and scratching the side of his face.

His dad left them and walked away, tossing the empty bottle to the ground, etching the sound of shattering glass in Timothy's memory, never to be forgotten.

​

Six Years Later

​

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The monitor steadily beeped, confirming Timothy’s mother’s heart rate, which was now at 60 beats per minute. She was asleep. She had never been so pale or skinny; at this point she was almost all skin and bones. Timothy watched her as she slept, looking to see if she was breathing, waiting for some sort of movement. He hadn’t slept all night, his eyes were red and he was extremely tired. He began to nod off, but woke himself up, and walked around the room so he wouldn’t fall asleep. As he was walking around, his gaze shifted to the heart rate monitor. Every pause between beeps made his own heart skip a beat. He was startled when he heard his mom shuffling in her bed. Her head was moving, and her arms slowly moved up and down. The heart rate monitor started increasing in speed. 70 beats per minute. 90 beats per minute.

120 beats per minute. 200 beats per minute. He saw her sit up in her bed. She wasn’t wearing the hospital gown anymore. She was in a beautiful red dress, makeup and all, and a full head of spectacular brown hair. Timothy started tearing up. He thought he heard doctors yelling, but they must have been in another room, he thought.

“What’s wrong, Timothy? Why are you crying?” she said, getting out of bed and walking towards Timothy.

“You were just in bed, mom. You’ve been sick for the last three years,” he replied, as the tears started flowing down his cheeks.

“Hey, I’m all better now, Timothy. See? I’m not sick anymore.” She was standing right in front of Timothy. She knelt down and hugged him. “Do you want to go get an ice cream? If I remember correctly, you love chocolate ice cream!”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Timothy replied, jumping with joy. He didn’t know why, but he was still crying.

“Alright, you wait here and I’ll go get the ice cream. I’ll be right back.”

“No, please don’t leave me here! I want to come with you, mom!”

“Don’t worry, Timothy. I’m not going to leave you here. I’ll be back in a few minutes, you’ll see. I love you, Timothy.”

She walked out of the room. Timothy sighed with relief and fell back on the chair behind him. He could still hear doctors screaming, “She’s going into cardiac arrest! Get me a defibrillator! Clear!”

He didn’t care anymore. Everything was better, and he was about to eat his favorite dessert for breakfast!

But something wasn’t right. The heart rate monitor kept beeping. He looked over at it and saw that it read ‘500 BPM’. How could it be working if it wasn’t attached to anyone? He figured it was because it was still plugged in. He walked over and got down to unplug it, but was startled by a long beep that didn’t stop. Maybe it was broken…

Timothy stood up and looked around him. First he saw all the doctors in the room. Then he looked at the bed. And his mom was still laying in it. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t moving. Every time the doctors put that machine down on her, she would jump up in her bed. Timothy thought she was going to jump up and wake up any second now. But she would just jump, she never woke up. After a few minutes, the doctors stopped. They covered her face with a white blanket.

“Hey, Timothy,” Doctor Green said as he knelt down to Timothy’s height. “How’re you doing?”

He didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry… but your mom…” he didn’t know what to say to Timothy.

“No. She’s not dead. She just left the room to go get chocolate ice cream. She had all her hair and she wasn’t pale anymore…” His voice trailed off into the distance as he looked outside the room and saw a woman wearing a red dress. “There she is! She was just walking by the room!”

He ran out and ran after the woman. He finally reached her, and hugged her. “There you are, mom! The doctors were saying that you died! But you’re right here!”She looked down at him and he looked up at her. She was not his mother.

“I believe you have the wrong person, young man. I am not your mother,” she said as she pushed him away from her.

Timothy fell back on the floor. He put his head in his hands and started sobbing as they took away his mother.

​

Five Years Later

​

“Mom, I’m heading out to the bus stop!”

“Don’t forget your lunch! Love you!”

Timothy headed out of his house and closed the door. He started walking to the bus stop, which was three blocks away from his house. His backpack was way too heavy, so he shifted it around, moving the AR-15 from side to side until he felt comfortable with the position that it was in inside his backpack. Sweating and biting his lip, Timothy walked towards the bus stop. As he was walking, everyone he passed on the sidewalk seemed to be staring at him, their stares scolding him for the contents of his bag and telling him to turn back and put it back on his adoptive father, Michael’s gun rack. But he just smiled back and justified himself in his mind with thoughts like,”How else am I going to be noticed. Nobody cares about me now, but after today, the whole country will be talking about me. And you know what? When my real dad sees what I’ve done, he’ll know he was wrong. Wrong to say that I would never become a real man. Because once the dust clears, he’s gonna be the coward, not me.”

Jake sat down in his seat on the bus and put his backpack in the space next to him. He moved it once he saw Timothy walking towards him, but Cameron sat next to Jake once he saw the space clear up.

”Excuse me, Cameron,” Jake said, trying to be as polite as possible to this abomination of a human being, ”but I was saving this seat for Timothy. You mind moving?”

Turning to face Jake, Cameron replied,”Actually, I do mind. There’s no other seats on this stupid bus except next to Gertrude, and she smells like a dumpster. Plus, I don’t see his name written on it.”

Jake looked around, annoyed, and said,”OK, first of all there’s plenty of free seats, so you can go sit in one of those, and second, was that your ex Britney I saw outside?” Cameron immediately got up and walked towards the front of the bus, but stopped in front of Timothy.

“What’s wrong, Tim? Are you mute or something? You need your friend to speak up for you? Wuss.” He pushed Timothy to the floor and walked out of the bus.

“You can expect detention this afternoon, young man!” the bus driver exclaimed. He held out his hand to Timothy and said,”Don’t mind kids like him, son. They’re just bullies. Remember, don’t push back; that’s what they want, some kind of negative reaction from you. What’s important is how you deal with the things they say to you and that you don’t let them influence your actions.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll keep that in mind.” Timothy almost sounded sarcastic in his reply. He walked over to Jake and sat down next to him.

“Hey, Timothy. You okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ll deal with Cameron later.”

They both laughed.

Finally, the bus stopped at its destination. As Timothy and Jake walked off the bus, Timothy dropped a magazine. Jake picked it up and handed it to Timothy.

Since Jake had a free period first period, he headed to the office. Timothy walked to his Algebra 2 Honors class, each step feeling heavier and harder to take. He was convinced he had to do it, he had to prove himself to his father, and to everyone else he knew that he was a man. But looking around at all of his classmates, he started to wonder if their lives were worth his fame. In his mind, he began to say goodbye to all his fellow classmates, then laid his eyes on Cameron. This was the kid that had single-handedly made his life throughout high school miserable. And yet, he still felt sorry for him.

Timothy sat down and waited for the bell to ring. At this point, he was sweating so profusely that it was coming through his shirt. Every move the clock made inserted another thought into his mind, each ringing in his head, constantly echoing, telling him to rethink this. But he wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t listen. He was convinced that this had to happen. And then the bell rang. And a minute went by. Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Half an hour. Timothy couldn’t take it anymore. It was now or never. He stood up and quickly unzipped his backpack, started pulling out the gun, and then

the door opened.

And Jake walked in.

Jake’s eyes moved around the room, looking for the teacher, and landed on Timothy’s hands on the barrel of a gun. He was speechless. He watched in horror as Timothy pulled the gun out and yelled,”I’m done! Starting now, I’m a - Jake? What are you doing here?”

“Stop! You don’t have to do this!” Jake frantically yelled. “What do you think is going to happen, everyone’s just going to stop bothering you and you’ll live the rest of your life in peace? No, man! You’re gonna go to jail for a long time!”

Timothy didn’t know what to say. Finally, after what seemed like hours of silence, he raised the gun and aimed it at Jake. “Nobody is going to stop me, Jake. So either leave, or become just another casualty,” Timothy said, his voice shaking and his eyes tearing up.

Jake took a step towards Timothy. “Timothy, we’ve been friends for a long time.” Step. “And I’ve always been by your side, even when nobody else was.” Step. “I know you, and this isn’t you.” Step. “So please, put the gun down, and walk away.” The barrel of the gun was now right on Jake’s chest.

Tears were streaming down Timothy’s face. “But what about my dad? This is the only way I can get him to care about me.”

“Timothy, your dad doesn’t love you because he’s an idiot. How will killing people make him love you?”

Timothy’s grip loosened and he dropped the gun. He fell to the ground and began sobbing. Jake let out a sigh of relief and fell to the ground next to Timothy. The classroom was silent for mere moments before Timothy raised his gun yet again and pulled the trigger.

~

Timothy sat up in bed, panting and sweating. He calmed himself down, and got out of bed. He grabbed his backpack and emptied it out, putting his books and folders under his bed, then he checked his stepparents’ room to see if they were sleeping, and walked downstairs. He walked towards his stepfather’s gun rack, picked up the AR-15 and stuffed it in his bag.

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[flauntpage]

The New Norm – Ten Takeaways from Cowboys 27, Eagles 20

I’d like to begin this morning with an Eagles haiku:

Offense was dog shit

Defense was also dog shit

Please claw out my eyes

What a diabolical performance. It was a travesty of a mockery of a sham – as Woody Allen once said – and a waste of three hours to boot. You’re gonna come out of the bye week, playing a division rival at home, and put THAT on display? You’re going to give us a first quarter interception, a dropped pick-six, a stuffed 4th down attempt, and a 3rd and 2 screen pass with the game on the line?

Those were just the atrocities I could think of off the top of my head. There were a lot more than that.

This was, by far, the worst loss of the Doug Pederson era, which I think I’ve written twice already this season. It was worse than the Carolina loss a few weeks ago, which was worse than the Tennessee loss a few weeks before that. We’ve watched the three worst losses of the Doug Pederson era in something like a six week period. I don’t even think I’ve enjoyed a single quarter of Eagles football this year, not as a neutral and jaded blogger OR a local kid who grew up a fan of the team. It’s just been disjointed, mediocre, inconsistent football all season long.

At halftime I called the 97.5 the Fanatic “Riled Up” line and made one long fart noise before hanging up, so we’ll see if they play that on Gargano’s show this afternoon.

For now, I’ll keep it relatively short, since the only real takeaway from Sunday night is that the Eagles are done. They’re cooked. This team is ravaged by injuries and they aren’t coming back to win the division. They’re gonna get annihilated by the Saints next weekend, so start drinking now.

1) Golden Tate Warriors

Quiet night for the new receiver, just 2 catches on 4 targets for 19 yards.

They got him his first reception on the first drive with a screen/bubble pass. He didn’t have another catch until the second half.

Tate also doubled as the Eagles’ punt returner for this game sans DeAndre Carter and Darren Sproles. He brought one back for 12 yards and fielded another that bounced off a Cowboy helmet and scared the shit out of probably everybody watching.

But here’s the rule:

Smart move. Even if he fumbles they get it back where it hit the Cowboys player. Wear a diaper next time.

— Mike Garafolo (@MikeGarafolo) November 12, 2018

Yep. You can’t cough it up after it hits an opponent in that situation.

Wentz tried to hit Tate deep on his first pass of the second half, and there was no call on what I thought was defensive pass interference. They got him later in the drive on a hook and ladder, which was wild, but kind of a risky call in that situation I think. In hindsight, maybe you try that hook play with more room to operate on the field, since it seems like it was kind of smushed over there in a red zone situation.

2) offensive line and “running game”

Big V played right tackle with Lane Johnson inactive due to his MCL issue.

Good effort by him right here:

Josh Adams stuffed on 4th down pic.twitter.com/TBY3TU2dac

— The Bitter Birds (@AdrianFedkiw) November 12, 2018

Good job also by Nelson Agholor and Zach Ertz, the ole’ “matador” blocking scheme.

DeMarcus Lawrence didn’t do a ton last night, so I guess Big V actually did relatively well for the rest of the game, though I counted at least two holds that weren’t called. Michael Bennett scored a better separation number over at the NFL’s NextGen stats page, and the Birds only allowed two sacks on the night.

One of the problems was that they finished with a 42 to 18 pass/run ratio, so the Eagles threw the ball on 70% of their plays last night. When you ask linemen to pass block over and over and over again, you just lose balance. It’s predictable and defenses start teeing off.

All linemen would prefer to run block rather than pass blocking, and when you can’t really establish much of anything on the ground (71 yards last night), then you’re just not keeping defenses honest enough, which puts a strain on the line. Take away the Josh Adams 29 yard run and the Eagles’ backs ran 13 times for 35 yards. That’s bad, and it helps explain why the Eagles rank 22nd out of 32 NFL teams in rushing yards per game. They are bottom half in just about every running stat this year.

3) The secondary

Captain Obvious: the injuries are just destroying them here.

Tre Sullivan started as safety with Avonte Maddox in the slot, then Corey Graham came in at safety on third down. They had Maddox back in deep safety in the base, with Rasul Douglas covering for the injured Jalen Mills. Douglas had a really poor game, just slow off the line and awful trying to plug holes and tackle as well. As a fellow Mountaineer, I was embarrassed and ashamed.

After Ronald Darby went down, Chandon Sullivan came in the game, leaving the Eagles with Malcolm Jenkins as the only true starter remaining on the field.

They’re down four guys in the secondary: Rodney McLeod, Darby, Mills, and Sidney Jones. Better hope they get healthy soon, or else the Saints and Rams are gonna do things to this defensive backfield that might not be legal.

Doug on the defense:

“I think one of the things we knew coming into this game was we were going to get a steady diet of the run game. Zeke is a big back, powerful back. Probably some of that a little bit. But I thought, overall, we didn’t tackle great. That’s one of the areas we got to get better at, too. Tackling in space, tackling in the box, and just making sure that we get the guys on the ground. There were too many yards after contact and things like that. So those are areas we have to concentrate on.”

Zeke Elliott carried the ball 19 times for 151 yards and a touchdown. He caught 6 passes for 36 yards and a score. He’s literally the only elite player on that Dallas offense, and he went off for almost 200 scrimmage yards and a pair of touchdowns.

You had one job!

They didn’t get it done.

4) Penalties

Zero.

They committed zero penalties for zero yards.

And they lost.

Wait:

“Clean” pic.twitter.com/Oknmh4LtbU

— Colton Skeens (@Spidercolt) November 12, 2018

Eagles got some of that home cooking and didn’t do anything with it.

5) Zach Ertz

14 catches for 145 yards and two touchdowns.

He’s now 9th in the NFL in total receiving yards, pipping Travis Kelce as the top tight end on the list. Ertz has 75 catches on 100 targets this year and his numbers project like this:

75 receptions = 8.3 catches per game –> 132.8 catches over 16 games

100 targets = 11.1 targets per game –> 177.7 targets over 16 games

789 yards = 87.6 yards per game –> 1,402 yards over 16 games

5 touchdowns = 0.55 touchdowns per game –> 8.8 touchdowns over 16 games

Those are Pro Bowl numbers and extrapolate to Hall of Fame numbers if he keeps doing anything remotely similar over the next 5-7 years.

6) Peripherals

Ghastly stuff here:

lost time of possession battle, 33.22 to 26.38 minutes

-1 turnover margin (interception)

4-10 on third down (40%)

0-2 on fourth down (0%)

allowed Dallas to go 8-16 on third down (50%) and 1-1 on fourth down (fake punt)

lost 10 yards on two sacks

2-3 success rate in red zone

zero penalties

The third and fourth down numbers are just repugnant.

And that’s the first time the Eagles have lost the time of possession battle since I started making this a regular entry into the weekly column. Philly came into the game as the NFL’s best team in time of possession while Dallas was one of the worst. The shitty 1st quarter offense and the defense’s inability to get off the field consistently killed the TOP numbers in this game.

7) Josh Adams

Shrug. He’s just another guy.

Everyone is out here saying, “man I like Josh Adams, I need more of Josh Adams” when the reality is that the Eagles don’t have any above average or interesting running backs, which is why you default to thinking that he has some kind of incredible upside or value.

And I swear to God, if Doug runs Adams out of a sweep or toss one more time, I’m gonna lose it. The guy is 6’2″ and 225 pounds. You cannot run him sideways. Run him downhill, which they did on that “wham” scheme that broke him loose for 29 yards in a NORTH/SOUTH DIRECTION.

It’s true that they need to run the ball more, but Smallwood is just a dude, Adams is just a dude, and Corey Clement has been really disappointing this season.

8) Doug’s best call?

The 2nd quarter challenge seemed like it was more about giving his defense a breather rather than anything positional. They only really got a yard out of the reversal, which may have made Dallas think twice about running the ball, but it was more of a momentum stopper than anything related to field positioning.

At least I think that was the idea..

Was it?

9) Doug’s worst call?

Take your pick!

The very first series set the tone, with some crap play calling.

Of course people might argue about the decision not to kick the field goal early, but more important was the fact that it was a boring and predictable 4th down play call for Adams. Just sneak it with Wentz, right? You’ve had a ton of success doing that, but instead they tried to run behind Big V, Agholor, and Ertz.

And the 3rd and 2 screen pass in the fourth quarter was whatever. Just throw the ball past the sticks. Jason Kelce and Brandon Brooks gotta do a million times better on Leighton Vander Esch there, but again, throw the ball down the field.

On the ensuing 4th down play call, the one that Ertz caught one yard short of the marker, here’s what Doug said about that:

“It’s a route that’s going to get you the fourth down or any down really. I give credit to Dallas and to (Jeff) Heath. He came up and it was a contested catch. Zach did a great — ball was a little bit high, but he came down with the ball and we were just about a half yard short. So just a great play by them, and it was a play that I would call again. You’re putting it in Carson’s hands, you’re putting it in Zach’s hands and that’s what you want.”

Wouldn’t have been a problem if they didn’t lose yards on 3rd and 2. Clement was asked about that play after the game and said that if he could have it back, he would have tried to get the ball in the opposite hand so he could throw a stiff arm and shake Vander Esch for an extra pair of yards.

10) Boring broadcasting

I laughed when Al Michaels referred to Geno’s Steaks as “one of the city treasures.” I guess it was just the choice of words. You could say it’s a cultural landmark, for sure, but Philly city treasures are things like the Liberty Bell, Art Museum, and whatever Evil Genius currently has on tap. Of course we also got the Rocky music and all the assorted cliches in this broadcast as well. There’s more to Philadelphia than cheesesteaks and a fake boxer. God forbid they shoot some broll of the new Revolutionary War museum or Elfreth’s Alley or something else. It’s the same lazy stuff over and over again. It’s like showing TV footage of chili every time the Bengals play. There’s more to Cincy than chili, I think.

Also – what the hell was with the sky cam being used for almost the entirety of that third quarter Dallas drive? Goodness gracious, just show the normal angle please. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

I also rolled my eyes at Cris Collinsworth going over another completed catch 10 minutes after the play actually took place.

But maybe the worst part of the last 24 hours is that this guy gets the last laugh:

Biggest loser in the crowd of 70,000 has to be the guy wearing a Marion Barber jersey all these years later. pic.twitter.com/lc4wUypdtE

— Glen Macnow (@RealGlenMacnow) November 12, 2018

Happy Monday, the Eagles suck.

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