#it's just...the moment i thought i was improving stuff goes sideways

[flintbian]

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[karezzasstuff]

From the project of interviewing Stanley S. Bass about his experiences with Karezza techniques, The Life Science Publishing created the 2008 book Energy-Karezza. Here Dr. Bass tells the story of how, in his 30’s, he was on his way to become a celibate yogi through Brahmacharya, when he learned about reaching the same spiritual goal via Karezza & Tantra. He decided to try Karezza instead.

Even though his personal goal was spiritual, Dr. Bass soon discovered that women loved Karezza, and couldn’t get enough. When he started teaching the improved Energy-Karezza method to couples with marital problems, the results were astounding. Usually, within weeks, the couple had fallen in love again. Problematic marriages healed, becoming more and more harmonious and stronger with time.

Over time, over 50+ years, he not only gained experience concerning every aspect of Karezza/Tantra, but also – thanks to his energy-understanding, being an orthopathic doctor – developed an improved, more powerful & easy-to-learn, version. Traditional “Karezza/Tantra” can be difficult for men, but “Energy-Karezza/Tantra” is easy, and also gives more pleasure & prolongation..

INTRODUCING OTHERS TO KAREZZA

Karezza is about one thing, the man has to control himself. It is so easy. I got so good at this control that I soon was able to go almost a whole year with no accidents. With very heavy sex - three times a week, four hours each session. It didn't take long to get to a high level of proficiency.

In a few months I was very good at it already.

It is very simple, it is natural. It is not difficult. Prove it for yourself, don't take my word for it. Try it out. The first time I heard about it, it was strange to me, so I tried it. It didn't take me long to get good at it. It was easier than I thought. In fact, I taught Karezza to a lot of friends, and everyone had success.

If one of them asked me, "how do I know if it will work?", I gave him a simple method of trying it. I usually said, "why don't you first try:

1. Don't have an orgasm quickly, but wait until the woman is finished, until she has had her enjoyment. Practice holding back for half an hour, for an hour, for several hours, if you can.

2. Then you'll see that your own orgasms are better; they are more enjoyable.

3. Also try having an orgasm only every other time you have sex.

Skipping one time. Every other time, try without orgasm. See how you feel."

With my sex students, those were my instructions, to begin with. These instructions summarize basic traditional Karezza. But these simple instructions could still be difficult for some men. They lost control (ejaculated) early, and were never able to do Karezza for a full hour.

Therefore, to make it easier, I gave my students some Energy-Karezza secrets. I asked them to improve their diet, and to avoid alcohol and all drugs. I told them not to eat before sex, because a man can not control himself after he has eaten. Why? Because then too much blood goes to the stomach.

Also, I gave very detailed instructions on the best movements in sex. I told them to move slowly, and explained how to move, so they wouldn't get too excited, e.g. sideways, in semicircles, avoiding the in-out moves.

For the premature ejaculators, I told them to give up salt, and to not use anything spicy hot, avoid hot peppers, stay away from spices, because this throws them out of control. And then I told them to use certain motions, slow motions, that makes it easy to control oneself. That's all.

Then the women will get the pleasure, because the men are controlling themselves.

For some men the pleasure was so overwhelming that they were still unable to control themselves very long, more than perhaps 45 minutes, even if their diet was good and they had high vitality. In these cases I think the solution is just doing it over and over. Sometimes men, just like women, may need saturation with lots of high-pleasure peak orgasms, before they can start with serious self-control and higher-pleasure valley orgasms. It may take months, but in the end they will get there.

I myself was never overly concerned with the clitoris or the G-spot, because the Karezza was so enjoyable and I was so good at it that a woman couldn't hold out long. If they wanted to have an orgasm, they could have it quick. Women enjoyed it.

The women were very happy. After beginning Karezza, it became unnecessary to calculate all this stuff. I never had to actually figure it out.

All I did was to function naturally, the way I felt like, without thinking about it. And it was right, for every woman. If one gets too mechanical about it, one becomes a dud. Then it is not real. Real sex has nothing to do with the brain, it has to do with feelings, true feelings and movement.

That's all. The brain is not needed.

From page 45 the Technique to Paradise.

🍎🐍🏖️

YAB YUM

What are you experiencing?

~ by yab yum

Be patient. At first you can't experience the orgasmic part of this process. Some get it on their first try and for some it can take years. Keep practicing with the exercise your teacher gives you. Even if you don't experience the orgasm, just the breath and energy circling alone is of great value. It will clear blocks so that eventually the orgasm can pass through you. Blocks can be experienced in many ways – crying, gagging, getting frustrated, resurfacing old memories. Just keep breathing. Visualize letting go of the "old" on the exhale, ringing out the "new" on the inhale. Energy levels will most likely rise and fall, like mercury in a thermometer. Tell your partner where it slipped. Your partner will encourage you to tap into your sexual center when energy is slipping. One of the main keys to learning this technique is KNOWING that it is possible.

(When asked if she had an orgasm, Sara responded 🙂

It was uninterrupted, uninterrupted… This was definitely something else, which I have never experienced so fully.

(Sara was then asked if there were any psychological changes.)

Oh yes, sure. From the point of view of spiritual practice it is always full of insight, a kind of insight that comes after, about how I am in ecstasy in my usual state, because it is obvious that the ecstasy is inherent in the body (level), of my being… and also of course this would affect my meditation. I am much more relaxed and receptive physically, emotionally and psychologically when I sit down to meditate…. I don't know what this has to do with anything, but meditation becomes very sexual, very physical, playing with all these hormones. Very often in my meditation there is a stage like deepening where it goes through something like lovemaking in a hormonal sense. I feel the heat and change of energy and so forth, and then it just cools down. That is when deep meditation begins.

It is absolutely blissful in ecstasy because the bliss is something I feel in the body. The ecstasy is something where the body is no longer. Energy goes up. His community. It is love. The transcendent, the energy feeling, transcends even the light that I'm talking about in meditation, and just went into the light.

One tree merges with another tree, the earth merges with the trees, the trees merge with the sky, the sky merges with the unknown...you merge with me, I merge with you...everything merges...differences lost, melting and merging as waves into other waves…an enormous unity vibrating, alive, without limits, without definitions, without distinction…the sage melting into the sinner, the sinner flowing together in the sage…becoming good becoming bad, becoming bad…the night turning into the day, day turning into night… life melts into death, death plunges into life again – then everything has become one.

This has changed my experience with sexuality forever… It has blown up things like this what you have about sex, the good feeling you get from sexual experience or trying to get. It broke that because it was so obviously about submission. It wasn't about me trying to do something. It was about not doing something, but rather receiving or allowing it, rather than doing and creating and making.

This is the most profound healing practice I have ever encountered. It has awakened me to realize that my body is often shut off from the bliss and ecstasy it might be experiencing. Through this practice I have come to learn that emotional pain occurs when orgasmic energy does not flow freely through my body and that there is an infinite flow of orgasmic energy available to me. It has taken me years to gradually release the tension and pain in my body and I still have areas of tension to unblock. The sensations can be different each time depending on my condition, sometimes there is a pulsating vibration and sometimes it feels like some kind of electrical current circulating through my genitals throughout my body. There may be tears of joy. My mind can be perfectly clear and it can seem like everything I feared has been resolved. When a certain area of ​​tension is unblocked and the orgasmic energy circulates, there is always an amazing sense of oneness with the life being awakened.

Mel 40 Auckland

My teacher knew how to touch – and where to make contact – He knew places to touch that I didn't know about – and soon I was on my way to another place in another universe. I was in a trance of breathing and sweat and pleasure that so long and so dead do had gone – that I traveled through light and sound. I never knew that such an experience could be had without actually making love. When I finally climaxed and climaxed and climaxed, I couldn't believe I was having a sexual climax in the presence of someone other than my husband. I felt both excitement and a little embarrassment. Looking back at this moment, I would never have thought that having an orgasm for another man would actually be the "beginning" of this whole journey in Tantra

Emma S 35

Auckland

And this is the joy of Cosmic Spiritual Orgasm, because you disappear for a moment. That moment is very small, but its impact is immense. For a moment you are no longer the ego, you do not think in terms of 'I', for a moment you dissolve into the oneness of the all, you become one with the whole, you pulsate with the whole. You are no longer an individual… you are no longer limited to your body. You have no limitations, for a moment you are unlimited, infinite.

That is the meaning of Cosmic Spiritual Orgasm – that your frozen energy melts, becoming one with this universe, with the trees and the stars, and the woman and the man, and the rocks – for a single moment, of course. But in THAT moment you have a kind of consciousness that is religious, that is sacred, that is one with all things. – OSHO

Unbelievable! Some are very strong and some are wonderfully subtle. In general, the more time you spend building up the energy, the more powerful the sensations. You experience “electricity” throughout your body, hands, feet and lips tingle, and there is a sense of letting go and receiving at the same time. You will feel high, euphoric and light-headed. It feels very different from a clitoral orgasm (but it can happen at the same time as a clitoral orgasm). You see a seed sprout, flowers appear on a tree somewhere, the birds are singing – the whole phenomenon is sexual. It is life manifesting in many ways. When the bird sings, it is a sexual call, an invitation. When the flower attracts butterflies and bees, it is an invitation, because the bees and butterflies bear the seeds of reproduction. Everything seems to be divided into these two polarities. And life is a rhythm between these two opposites. Repulsion and attraction, coming closer and getting far… these are the rhythms.

Z

[forasecondtherewedwon]

37 please

Thanks for the prompt, Anons! This prompt was requested two or three more times, but in conjuction with other numbers. If you asked for #37 and I haven’t included your ask here, know that I will write something for those other numbers eventually, separate from #37. It made the most sense to do #37 on its own, otherwise I’d have been combining so many prompts into one fic that there just wouldn’t have been much creative freedom.

Miss Your TrainPairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle)Rating: E/NSFWWord count: 5077

37. “I want to hike up your skirt and take you right here.”

“You don’t have to stay,” MJ says without looking up.

She’s been doing this every few minutes. It reminds Peterthat time is, in fact, passing. He’s trying so hard to be patient though,unable to completely convince himself that MJ really does want him to leave. Atfirst, yeah, it seemed like she wanted him gone; she kept collecting hisstuff―his coat and his backpack and the overnight bag he packed extremelypoorly at the last possible minute―and setting it by the door. For the pasthalf an hour, she hasn’t bothered to get out of her chair.

It’s dark in the kitchen, just the light on over the sinkand the sleepy glow through the oven’s glass door. MJ’s got her chairpositioned near the counter with her feet tucked up underneath her. She’swearing the fluffy socks he bought her a year ago, their last Christmas at homebefore college.

“I don’t mind,” he promises lightly. The snow catches hiseye, swirling past the window. It’s kind of mesmerizing. Peaceful.

“You’re going to miss your train,” she points out.

“I’ll catch one with you in the morning.”

Peter jumps up to tap his fingertips against the ceiling andMJ exhales heavily the way he might’ve if the motion weren’t effortless. Itisn’t clear why she’s annoyed at him (probably just pretending to be), eitherhis stubbornness or the two other students passed out at the far end of theroom, where common kitchen space becomes common living/study room. Neither henor MJ got a great schedule for their first-ever round of college exams, but atleast they don’t have to sit for anything on the very last day of the term. Notlike their dozing companions, cheeks stuck to the pages of open economicstextbooks.

Pushing his luck with MJ and the slim chance Drooly One andDrooly Two will wake up while he does this, Peter springs to the ceiling againand lets his fingers hold this time. It’s monkey bars without the rungs. Sureenough, it catches her eye. The girl who he’s grown so close to since they bothmoved to Boston for school while Ned stayed in New York.

“You can still make yours. I’ll be right behind you. Mine’sonly 45 minutes later.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you walking to the station byyourself. It’s late,” he reminds her.

“I wasn’t going to walk, I was going to take a bus,” shemumbles.

Peter rolls his eyes. He gets to do this to her now,sometimes. Over the past few months, he’s learned her dimensions and seen thatshe’s isn’t always right, and when she pretends to think she is, she isn’talways sure. Turns out MJ needs somebody looking out for her. Peter’s glad it’shim, even though they’ve been dancing around it for months―around what it wouldmean for them to acknowledge that it’s him.

Methodically, he begins to swing his legs forward and back.Three swings gives him enough momentum to touch the toes of his sneakers to theceiling too and now he’s crawling around, checking out the holes wherefrustrated students from bygone days have chucked their pencils through theparticleboard tiles when exam stress was upon them. There’s no better spot towatch history repeat itself than in the common room of a college residence.(College has already made Peter very wise.)

“I’d just double back from the train station, wait for youto leave here, and follow you. By staying, I’m actually saving myself fromhaving to go outside.”

He’s cheerful in his logic. Doesn’t matter that he’s bendingthat logic around caring for MJ the way he bends every rule for her these days.He’d bend gravity for her.

She flips her book over on her lap so she won’t lose herspot and her unimpressed eyes find him wandering the ceiling.

“Tell me, Parker, is the urge to protect just a Spider-Manthing or is it something you do to irritate mespecifically?”

He shushes her, flipping to the ground and glancing over atthe sleepers. Still out. MJ gives him a look of flat exasperation and picks upher book, ignoring him again. Childishly, Peter sticks out his tongue andinches slowly and deliberately up the wall.

It’s starting to smell good in the kitchen, soothing himagainst his will. He had his final exam of the semester this afternoon and cameback here to find MJ (who’d written her last exam in the morning). She wasbaking, just like she’d said she would be, trying to whip up a bunch of cookiesand loaves to cart back home and take to family Christmas at her grandma’s.Because MJ’s mom does a lot of holiday baking too, MJ’s been concerned overbeing allotted enough time with the oven there. Maybe more concerned about thatthan about her last couple of exams. Luckily, MJ is super smart (Peter stillidolizes her, even though it’s been a while since he watched her kick ass ontheir high school decathlon team).

So he sat around today, keeping her company and using awhisk to combine flour with uncooperatively firm butter when MJ’s arm gottired. She made all the batters first, was convinced to take a break when Peterbraved the weather to bring them a pizza to split, then started rotating hercreations through the oven. A lot of it’s packed already in clear plasticcontainers, but the stuff that apparently takes the longest to bake has beenleft to the end. Peter knows she’ll never make her train.

It’s a funny coincidence that staying up with her all nightis his favourite thing in the world. He’s totally sure, despite onlydiscovering it tonight.

It would be great if MJ would talk to him though. Peterdoesn’t want to look at another book until January when term two begins, andthere isn’t much else to do in this room besides stare through the oven doorand think about the chemical reactions causing MJ’s baked goods to rise.(Fine―he was actually doing that for a while, but then she said it wasstressing her out to see him that close to her food, like he would ruin itsomehow. The real reason was her fear that he’d burn his face. It was soobvious that even Peter saw through that one.)

He straightens all the way up to standing and paces theceiling, upside-down. Circling around MJ in her chair, he goes to the window,observing the twinkling of their adopted city through snow that’s still fallingsideways. Peter likes that; he can relate to an existence that doesn’t haveonly one right way up.

In the glass, MJ’s reflection sits with her back to him.Peter sweeps the room with his eyes again before giving in to the aching,adoring expression that would live on his face every time he looks at MJ if hewasn’t too scared to let it. Tonight, this expression feels more precious asecret than Spider-Man. It’s probably the onlysecret he’s never told her.

MJ sighs and shifts, rolling her neck a little. Peter can seeher book now, where she’s propped her elbow up on the arm of the chair. Teasingher is worth a shot. It’ll be good for taking his mind off his feelings for herfor a solid, oh, maybe thirty seconds.

Crouching, he crawls across the ceiling. The words don’tlook right, even if they are upsidedown, so Peter dismounts with a tight flip. He’s already grinning as he creepsup behind her chair.

“‘I want to hike up your skirt,’” he reads confidently offher open page, “‘and… t-take you right here.’”

Peter’s brain links these separately innocent words withtheir combined filthy meaning halfway through, but he still blurts out theentire line, faltering near the end. He stumbles back from her chair, faceabsolutely, certainly, inescapably blushing.

“Is it… a romance novel?” he splutters.

He gets over his own reaction long enough to notice howtense MJ’s jaw is as she turns her head to look at him. It’s not what heshould’ve said. Peter instantly regrets that his words weren’t an apology, buthe can’t change them, same as he can’t change the fact that he read what heread and the knowledge that, at some inevitable moment, the memory of the thought of the book held in MJ’s hand is going to leave him panting between thesheets on the single bed in his dorm room.

“That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever asked me. Probablythe dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”

The sound of her speaking improves his own ability―to speak,not necessarily to communicate anything.

“But the front!” he argues gracelessly, using both hands to gesturetoo big. “It’s just blue!”

“Just because it doesn’t have a shirtless firefighter on thecover doesn’t mean it’s Austen, Peter.”

He’s hit, suddenly, by the realization that she’s notdenying anything. Not trying to tell him that he misread the line. Not that thebook belongs to her roommate and MJ grabbed it on the way to the kitchenwithout studying it very closely, so now she’s stuck with nothing else to read.Except, nope, he’s the only one stuck while MJ’s as sure as she always is.Maybe that means they can just talk their way through this and out the otherside.

“So…” Peter tries, casually crossing his arms. “…what’s itabout? Not actually firefighters, right?”

She eyes him shiftily.

“That was just a clichéd example.”

He waits. MJ doesn’t look away, but she doesn’t add anythingelse.

“You didn’t say no,” he observes.

“Maybe I can’t lie when you’re staring at me like that.”

It’s mumbled, disgruntled. It’s MJ being shy as she moves toface forward again. Peter bounds onto the back of her chair, perched on hissneakers and balancing with one hand.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Oh,she won’t look at him now.

“Why firefighters?”

“It’s not justfirefighters.”

“What? No, of course. I mean, you can tell me about the plotinstead.” Peter sees the tiny smirk she’s trying to hide at the corner of hermouth. “Character development? Philosophical issues tackled? If you want.”

MJ smacks his knee with the closed book and he doesn’t getout of the way because he’s laughing and so is she. When she goes to do itagain, Peter catches her wrist with enough precision to pin a butterfly’s wingin midair.

“College has corrupted you,” she accuses, not fighting hisdelicate grip. He can feel her pulse under his fingertips.

“I’m not the one reading dirty stories.”

“Yeah, well, you’re an idiot for not seeing the appeal. Theseries is hero-themed.”

It takes a second for him to notice that her statementdoesn’t so much insult him as expose her. Peter swallows and lets go of herwrist.

“The hero thing is the appeal? It’s appealing? To you?”

MJ is out of that chair in a hurry, abandoning her novel onthe seat; with just his weight on the back of the chair, it begins to tip andhe jumps down to the floor before the thing can topple and wake up the snoozingend-of-term-ers.

“I have to check these,” she mutters. He never asked herwhat she was doing.

Peter watches, stares a little harder than he typically letshimself, as MJ leans forward, then crouches to peer through the oven door. Heglances at the timer she’s set. It’ll be a while before anything in there hasfinished baking. Her white, long-sleeved shirt slides up above the waist of hersweatpants and he sees skin.

There’s no plan in Peter’s head as he circles the chair andstands behind her, heart racing. When MJ straightens up, he knows that she’saware of him, but he doesn’t touch her. Doesn’t slide his hand up her backbeneath her shirt or brush her hair over her shoulder. His gaze falls like thesnow outside, watching her grip the counter with both hands. She’s hanging ontight. Maybe she isn’t breathing significantly harder than she was a minuteago, yet Peter’s enhanced senses spot the smallest differences. His own breathis heavy and tremulous as he steps even closer. If he was wearing the suit,Karen would be able to tell him exactly how much space there is between hischest and MJ’s back. Without the suit lady, Peter can judge that it’s fewerthan six inches. He doesn’t have room in his head for decimal places.

“How long have you―”

“Peter,” she says.

He exhales and a shiver goes through her shoulders. Thiscould all fall apart so fast. This fragile thing.

“I gotta know,” he whispers.

“You’re going to miss your train,” she counters, just assoft.

It feels like his whole chest is quaking as his heart thumpsaround inside. MJ turns her head a few degrees, but the tension doesn’t breakyet.

“I told you, I’m not worried about that.”

“Oh,” she says, gaze lowered as she rotates her whole bodyto face him, “that was a promise, not a warning.”

MJ raises her eyes to his, then, with identical deliberateness,touches his chin with her fingers. Peter’s lips part like a lock springingopen. She runs the backs of her fingers along his jaw and he tilts his headinto her caress, not quite pushing, always meeting her gaze. She’s nevertouched him like this before; it’s all he can think of. When she’s ready, she letsher hand travel all the way to the back of his neck and brings the other handthere too. Again, he moves with her, leaning his face forward with the lightestsuggestion from her fingers. MJ gathers him in. In seconds, he’s lookingthrough lowered eyelids at her cheek as their noses rub together.

During Peter’s second rushed inhalation, MJ nudges her lipsinto his. It’s intense―no fumbling timidity, though he, personally, has neverdone this before. He loves how unafraid she is. It’s not like there’s nothingto lose, it’s that they’re figuring out that they can’t lose it. They’rekissing hard and fast, bodies in a sped-up sway. Her mouth is so eager againsthis.

“How long?” he asks again, blinking and tearing almostviolently away from the hurricane she’s stirring up. He holds her steadily bythe waist. “How long―”

“Ages. I’m guessing this isn’t a brand new idea for youeither.”

Her hips shove against his and Peter doesn’t jerk away,doesn’t try to hide, just stands there and lets the press of her soft bodydiscover his rigid erection. He groans. About the pressure, the kiss, thewords, all of it. MJ’s lips dart forward to meet his again, quick and gone,then back for more, slower. His hands are unapologetically on her ass by thetime her tongue sneaks into his mouth.

MJ breaks the kiss now, even though Peter chases her lipswith his, only getting her cheek. Her fingers unzip his sweater and he’spanting. He tries her neck instead and MJ rolls it to the side, her hairfalling back to offer his mouth a clear path. Hands on his hips, she wigglesher thumbs below the waist of his jeans, under the elastic band of his boxers,and strokes lightly over his skin. Peter’s dizzy, nose tucked beneath her jaw. Aftera second, he controls himself enough to drag his face up, never losing contactwith hers.

“You might not be wearing a skirt,” he says, speaking intoher ear, “but I still want to take you right here.” Peter laughs quietly athimself. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Did you mean it?” MJ asks. She clasps one of his hands andplants it on the center of her chest. Thuh-thump.“Because I want to hear you say it again… if you mean it.”

He draws his head back.

“Really?”

It isn’t easy not to giggle his way out of this one, give into the awkwardness. Instead, he has to accept that, yeah, she’s seriouslyasking. MJ has taken several risks here and it’s up to Peter to decide if theypay off. He licks his bottom lip, smoothing the way for his words.

“I mean it. I want to. I reallywant to.”

She gives him a blink-and-you-miss-it relieved smile andleans in for another kiss. The initial anxiousness behind it―a his and hersfear of rejection―burns off quickly, then Peter’s tongue is stroking hers andshe’s unbuttoning his jeans. This kiss isn’t hungry, it’s starving.

“Tell me, Peter,” MJ gasps. (Peter’s dick would like her tomake a lot more of those breathy sounds.)

“I want t―you. I want you.”

His fingers trace the line of her underwear through hersweatpants. Mouth on her neck, nipping now, Peter affirms it over and over. Thezipper on his jeans is only halfway down when MJ apparently decides not towaste her time on that; her hand wriggles in and brushes the rough cotton ofhis boxers. (Peter hasn’t totally mastered the art of doing his own laundry andis looking forward to a step-by-step refresher with May over winter break.)

He can feel MJ’s tentative fingers through the fabric, theheat of her palm. She closes her hand, cupping more than gripping because the crumpleof his boxers prevents her fingers from connecting their circle, and Peter hasto shut his eyes for a second. He opens them again―right after stuffing both ofhis hands down the back of her sweatpants and grabbing her ass.

She pushes her hips forward and Peter keeps them there,rubbing against her and seeing a few of those stars that normally just show upright before you faint. But he’s never felt more conscious. MJ moans when theykiss and Peter’s hands are out of her pants so that he can haul her up onto thecounter, parting her legs. The surface isn’t too high―constructed to beaccessible―which puts him at a good height to step close to her. He breathesher in, hard, as his hands glide up her back. The action folds and bunches thematerial of her shirt and the urge to roll her around in his bed (the one inhis dorm or the one back in Queens) makes his pulse slam in his groin.

Peter’s thinking about how to swing a little alone time withher on New Year’s Eve when MJ’s elbow hits his shoulder; she’s trying to peelher shirt off. His eyes widen and his palms drop to the counter. She thinksthey’re doing this right here. Well, that waswhat he’d said, but it had been an impulse, a desire, an irrational driveignited and fueled by the words from her book. Actually doing it, out in theopen, would be nuts! Peter glances sharply over his shoulder, grasping herhands to halt them. She shakes him off. The sleeping studiers! They couldn’t.They absolutely couldn’t. They…

The motion of MJ’s fingers playing with the drawstring ofher sweats draws his eye. Peter swallows.

“We shouldn’t,” he says. His dick is so fucking stiff.

She grabs him by the shoulders and puts her face right infront of his.

“Why not?”

The adamance in her voice surprises him and although herwords were not loud, they reverberate in his head. It’s late. They’re morealone than they usually are (they’ve had a few laptop movie nights in eachother’s dorms, until roommates returned). Peter takes a long look into hereyes. The situation might seem hasty, more than a little reckless for twopeople striving to find control in their lives, but it’s not. He stares at herand can’t think of one reason it shouldn’t happen like this.

“You’re right,” he agrees.

“You should really get used to that.”

He compresses MJ’s smug smile under his lips. When she workssome space back into the tight press of mouths he initiated, Peter feels thetickle of her tongue across his lower lip. His lips part, their tongues meet,and his hands squeeze her thighs to slide her forward on the counter. She’sright at the edge and her exhale wavers all over the place as she tilts hermouth away, forehead to forehead with him.

“I have a condom in my bag,” Peter offers. If his handsweren’t on her legs, they’d be shaking.

“You should get it.” Her closed eyes don’t lessen theexpression of determination on her face.

Peter trails his palms to her knees before, so reluctantly,backing away towards the heap of his belongings that she created earlier in theevening. MJ’s gaze is fixed on him. While the soft slouch of her body makesPeter yearn to tuck her around him, it’s the possessive look in those eyes thathas him almost stumbling. Ok, it’s the look plus the way his undone jeans areslipping down his hips, denim catching under his heels as he retreats.

He digs through his bag like a tidy madman, aligning thespines of his books as he yanks them to one side. And there’s the little squareresting at the bottom. Little, but valuable. Like a diamond. Too soon for thatthought; Peter might revisit it in a few years. He leaps back to MJ, thedistance only a couple of strides for his zealous feet.

She lifts herself up on her palms as he unties hersweatpants and eases them down her legs. Kicking free of her shoes, MJ silentlydirects him to pull her pants all the way off. Her underwear are navy blue; adetail he’s going to hang onto tonight and every night that follows. Peter’shooking his fingers into them, hands at her hips, when she speaks.

“So, you’ve been… you’ve been seeing girls,” MJ saysdisjointedly.

He frowns and glances up at her abruptly. She looks likeshe’s trying to be ok with what she just said.

“What?”

MJ picks up the condom, where he tossed it onto the counter.She turns it around and around in her fingers and Peter understands.

“No,” he says. His fingers rub with absent care over theslight indents at her hips where the seams of her underwear dug in. “I walkedthrough the community centre after my exam. There was a health fair. This guywas very persistent about me not leaving without something from his booth.That―” Peter points to the condom still being twirled between MJ’s fingers.“―was the only thing I could fit in my pocket.”

She snorts a laugh and the relief is infectious.

“I think that guy was into you.”

Peter feels, and probably looks, deeply confused.

“What? No, they’re just trying to promote safe sex because―”

MJ’s fingers cover his mouth.

“Let me enjoy how adorable it is that you don’t realize howhot you are.”

Peter glares at her, playfully. After a minute, she lowersher hand. He never fought it.

With a slow breath, he goes back to removing her underwear.The cleanliness of the counter isn’t an issue―he’s witnessed MJ’s meticuloushabits. He meets her gaze before his rushes down her body. The room is very,very warm and Peter isn’t convinced it’s only the oven.

“Firefighter hot?” he teases.

Her face twitches.

“Come on, MJ,” Peter goads, pressing his palms to her barethighs. He leans towards her, mouth not quite touching hers. “Firefighter hot?”

Her chest rises and falls more rapidly. He hears her set thecondom back on the counter, feels her hands make contact with his hips.Gradually, she traces her fingers towards the middle of Peter’s body. MJ tugsthe front of his boxers down. It makes his jeans flop to his feet. With onehand, she feels for his jaw and kisses him. With the other, she finds hiserection.

“I do want to take you,” he assures her, licking his lip ashe pulls back. “But I also want to give… give you…”

Peter’s head is hazy searching for words when his body isinsisting that he doesn’t need to speak right now.

“Give it to me?” MJ suggests.

She takes his hand and shifts it across her thigh, bringingit between her legs. He swallows.

“Yes.”

Peter moves his fingers against her. It would be foreign ifhe hadn’t had so many, many dreams about touching her in all kinds of ways.Walking with MJ and holding her hand is still high on the list. Oh well, hedoesn’t mind doing things out of order.

When she’s clutching the back of his neck, Peter pauses, slipperyfingers trying to tear open the condom wrapper. MJ grabs it and does it forhim, then hands it back so he can roll it on. Peter’s staring down at his ownhands until he’s done, then he’s kissing her again, messy and fierce. To givehimself just enough concentration to get through this next part, Peter breaksoff the kiss, grasping her hip and his cock. The head of his erection pressesagainst her and they’re breathing into one another’s mouths.

The timer goes off and they both jolt.

“Should we let them burn?” Peter wonders aloud, not overlyconcerned in that moment about the doneness of the baked goods MJ has in theoven.

She jerks back.

“Some firefighter you are.”

MJ guides Peter away from her, pushing his shoulders, andjumps down. While she’s rotating whatever’s in the oven, he emerges from thefogginess of lust enough to assess the wakefulness of their company. He’sintensely grateful to see them asleep.

“I’ve been working on those all day, you know,” MJ remindshim, shutting the oven door carefully so that it won’t slam. “As if I’m goingto let them burn.”

“Sorry.” It’s hard to think of anything when she’s nakedfrom her hips down.

Interruption over, MJ flips a cluster of wavy hair away fromher face and glances at him. Standing there. Jeans around his ankles. Boxersdown far enough to leave him exposed, waiting, sheathed in a condom from thehealth fair.

“That’s ok,” she says, and Peter’s not sure it’s so much him who’s being forgiven as his erectpenis, but whatever.

He grabs her around the waist and muffles her gasp with akiss, backing her into the counter. MJ’s hands are caressing the back of hishead, fingers running through his hair, as they suddenly hurry. The timer’sbeen a reminder that they don’t have forever. They aren’t trapped inside a souvenirsnow globe of Boston, microscopic beings fulfilling microscopic hopes inside aminiature building, suspended in the same endless night. All they can put offare the particulars of the train schedule they’ll have to consult in themorning to get themselves back home for the holidays. Until then, time willhurtle forward.

MJ turns in his arms; rather than hopping onto the counteragain, she braces her elbows there, her back to Peter. He drops his face to herback, breathing hard between her covered shoulder blades. Reaching down, thelight brush of his hand gets her to widen her stance. Peter finds her entrance.He’s curious about whether it can still be called fingering when he’s using histhumb, pushing inside her and scrubbing against her front wall. MJ groans andjerks her hips towards him.

His breathing sounds way too loud as he straightens up,withdrawing his hand and angling his hips. Man, tonight. Tonight’s been…

“Amazing,” Peter mouths, pressing into her.

MJ rocks a little and he holds still, letting her becomecomfortable. This is the part he would never rush. Peter looks sideways, buthe’s too far from the window and too close to the yellow kitchen lights to seethe snow. The glass is a dim reflection. He breathes in ginger and cinnamonand, once MJ’s hips are doing something a little more purposeful, a little morelike she’s seeking what he’s promised himself to give her, Peter thrusts intoher.

They decipher it together, how to swing their hips so thatMJ cries out and Peter forgets to inhale. Pleasure is a moving target, but theyforce it to slow down for them, expanding it into something viscous and syrupy.His hand sneaks around her hip and probes between her legs, in front of wherehe’s entering her. Arousal makes his fingers pretty slick, but not too slick tokeep nudging where she needs him.

There isn’t a rhythm left that would mean anything to anyonebut them by the time MJ has her mouth pressed to her forearm and Peter’sactually sweating from the effort to not release. His fingertips are relentlesson her clit, each of his thrusts full of primal determination. She orgasmsright before the unsympathetic timer goes off again.

“Hurry up,” MJ pants. Inside, she continues to squeeze andripple, climax stretched by his shallow rocking.

Peter snorts a laugh and speeds up. Holy shit, she’s soslick now. When bliss tackles him, he wraps his arms snugly around MJ’s waistand cries her name into her back. With a sigh, she collapses forward, limp,onto the counter.

“I sort of feel like I need to get you a better Christmaspresent now,” MJ admits.

They both chuckle, bodies shaking together. Peter props hischin on her spine. He can feel aftershocks coursing through her thighs.

“I love your Christmas presents.”

“Yeah, but is another science pun t-shirt going to cut itafter this?”

“I see what you’re saying,” Peter allows. “I bought you abook on the art of Eugène Delacroix, but now I know I was browsing in the wrongsection. Romance, not Romanticism, right?”

He’s expecting her to retaliate with a threat she’ll neverfollow through on. She doesn’t.

“You know, I think it was just a phase,” MJ saysthoughtfully. Peter’s holding her, delaying pulling out until the last possiblesecond. She turns her head just enough to catch his eye. “Now I have the realthing.”

Peter makes a happy noise and kisses her shoulder.

“But don’t expect me to dress up as a firefighter,” hewarns. “I don’t think costumes are for me.”

MJ’s expression instantly goes flat and sarcastic.

“I retract my earlier statement. That is the dumbest thing you’ve eversaid.”

Pick a prompt for a Spideychelle drabble!

[mamabearcat]

The Importance of Ramen: Ch3

Ch 1   Ch 2

Kagome sat on the mossy bank, her feet swinging in the crystal-clear water. The warm summer breeze lifted her dark hair around her face, and she tucked the errant strands behind her ear. The spot that Inuyasha had picked for their lunch break was beautiful; a swift flowing stream surrounded by willows. The water swirled and bubbled around her legs, and the smooth pebbles were cool under her aching feet. Bright red dragonflies hovered amongst the reeds nearby, adding their buzz to the sound of the cicadas chirping amongst the elegant willow branches moving in the breeze. Shippou was curled up in her lap, his fluffy tail tucked over his nose, the dappled sunlight making spotted patterns on his fur. He was snoring gently.

 She looked down at her lap, smiling fondly at Shippou. She had brought a packed lunch back for each of her friends when she had returned through the well this morning, and although he had battled valiantly, Shippou’s portion had obviously been too much for him. She looked up, checking the sun’s position in the sky. They would have to get back to the search for the jewel shards again soon, but it felt good to stop and rinse off her sweaty feet. Although not quite as humid as modern Tokyo, it was hot here in the past too, and everyone in their group was enjoying a brief respite from the heat of the sun on the dusty road.

 Kagome rubbed her eyes tiredly. She had finally managed to catch up on all her assignments, and had hoped last night that she would be able to catch up on the hours of sleep she had missed the previous two nights, but her sleep had been plagued by dreams. She couldn’t even really remember them, apart from the vague impression that she had been running in all of them, chasing something, but she didn’t know what. She rubbed her eyes again – they felt gritty and dry, and she felt vaguely ill, like she was coming down with a stomach bug. She really hoped it was just lack of sleep, she couldn’t afford to slow everyone down now they were back on the jewel shard hunt.

 The longer the hunt went on, the guiltier she felt about shattering the jewel in the first place. Every time they came across an animal or lower demon that had a shard that wasn’t under Naraku’s direct  influence, she felt her gut clench. How many villages had been destroyed, lives been lost, because of her moment of inexperience with the bow? It was up to her to make it right, and to help the others as much as she could, even though she could never hope to be as skilled as they were. She sighed, gently stroking Shippou’s tail as the petite fox kit slept on. She was so exhausted, she wished she could stay sitting on the bank forever. Her weary eyes were drawn to a tiny kingfisher, fluttering on a low branch on the other side of the stream. Its iridescent blue feathers caught the afternoon sunlight like a sapphire, as it repeatedly dived to catch tiny silver fish, bashing them sideways on the branch before swallowing them whole. Kagome took a deep cleansing breath. Everyone on this earth needed to work for their dinner, and she was no exception. Her friends needed her help, and she would not disappoint them.

 Inuyasha watched from his perch up in the tallest willow as Kagome gently placed Shippou onto a nest of moss, and padded over to check the recently refilled water bottles that were chilling in the cool stream. It had become part of their routine to build a fire and boil water for drinking as soon as they stopped near a flowing water source, ever since Kagome had explained how drinking water that wasn’t boiled could make you sick. Inuyasha didn’t quite understand her explanation about bacteria, but he had seen how whole villages could become ill from drinking polluted water, and he wasn’t going to take any chances with his pack.

 After Kagome pulled the bottles out of the stream, Inuyasha watched as she sat next to her backpack, and after placing the water bottles inside, produced a small towel which she used to dry her feet, and then tugged back on her socks and sneakers. She had returned through the well this morning without her usual school uniform, explaining her mother was tired of continually replacing it after it got ripped and stained. Instead, she was wearing blue cropped hakama that she called ‘shorts’, and a cherry blossom pink top with long sleeves.

 Inuyasha examined her face carefully as Kagome pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, securing it with a band. She looked tired; her face was paler than usual, and the dark circles above her cheekbones made her usually vibrant brown eyes look listless. Inuyasha made an annoyed grumbling sound in the back of his throat. Yes, he was proud of her efforts to improve, but if she didn’t rest, she was going to end up sick or injured. He wouldn’t let that happen. He looked around to check on the rest of his pack. Mirokou was sitting cross legged under a willow nearby, his eyes closed and shakujo resting across his knees. Sango sat close to him, polishing her hiraikotsu, softly humming, with Kirara perched on her shoulder, mewing softly.

 Kagome looked up as she felt, rather than heard, Inuyasha land lightly next to her on the soft grass.

 “Time to get going again?”, she inquired, squinting up at him, his light hair and ears haloed by the bright sun behind him.

 Inuyasha nodded, holding out a hand and wrapping his fingers around her slim wrist as she reached up to him, hauling Kagome to her feet.

 “There’s a village on the other side of that bluff over there”, he said, nodding in an easterly direction, behind her. “If we leave now, we’ll get there before nightfall.”

 “Sure, sounds good”, replied Kagome cheerfully. Even though she had her sleeping bag, a futon inside an inn was always preferable to the hard ground, even if she did enjoy looking at the stars as she fell asleep. As she went to pull back her hand, Inuyasha noticed a dark mark just under her sleeve. He tightened his hold on her wrist.

 “What’s this!” he growled, gently pulling back her sleeve, showing a livid bruise that ran from the middle of her forearm up to her elbow. Kagome tried to twist out of his grip, but it was no use.

 “Inuyasha, stop, please! It’s nothing”, Kagome fidgeted, looking down at the ground. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Who did this to you?”, he growled menacingly.

 Kagome sighed. “Stand down, dog boy. I did this to me. It’s just a bow string slap bruise. Don’t worry about it, it looks a lot worse than it is.” She pulled her arm out of Inuyasha’s grip, and picked up her backpack. “So, if we leave now, we’ll get to that town before sunset, huh? I better go wake up Shippou.”

 “Stop trying to change the subject wench!” began Inuyasha. Mirokou and Sango walked over to join in the conversation.

 Kagome, can I see?” asked Sango gently, pulling back the pale pink sleeve on Kagome’s arm again. “Ouch! When did you do this?”

 “Last night when I was practicing”, sighed Kagome, pulling her sleeve back down over the bruise. “Really, you all need to stop making such a fuss. It’s a common injury in archery. I iced it last night to keep the swelling down, and it will probably look worse before it’s gone, but it’s really no big deal!”

 Mirokou smiled at her. “Well, if it is as you say, Kagome, we should stop fussing. Although” he continued, gently tapping his forefinger on his chin in a thoughtful way, “I’ve never seen you injure yourself before like this when using your bow.”

 Kagome groaned, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. Why wouldn’t everyone just leave this alone! “I was just tired, ok!”, she snapped. “I was thinking about other stuff, and it was a moment of inattention, and my form got sloppy.” She bent down, retrieving a leather armguard from her backpack. “I’ve brought a bracer with me to wear, so you don’t have to worry about it. It won’t affect my ability to take down an enemy.” Kagome laced the protective leather on over her sleeve swiftly, covering from her palm almost up to her elbow. “There, is everyone happy now?!” Swinging her backpack over her shoulder, she picked up her bow and quiver and stomped over to where Shippou had just began to sit up, rubbing his eyes.

 “Is it time to go?” he yawned tiredly.

 “Definitely”, growled out Kagome, encouraging him to jump up on her shoulder. She began marching off in the direction of the village that Inuyasha had mentioned, her fists by her sides, muttering under her breath.

 “Is it my imagination, or does our Kagome sound a touch fatigued”, mused Mirokou, as he helped kick dirt on the fire so they could follow Kagome and Shippou a safe distance behind. “I would have hoped the three days she spent with her family would leave her well rested.”

 Inuyasha bristled. “She doesn’t rest at all”, he growled. “She does study, and archery practice, and self-defence classes and shrine duties and miko practice and school. She doesn’t sleep much so she can catch up on schoolwork. The only good thing about her going home is her mother’s cooking. I think she actually rests more when she’s with us.”

 Sango gasped. “I had no idea she was doing all this. It’s not like we rest very much when we’re out shard hunting either. She’s going to get injured if she doesn’t look after herself properly. Why is she doing this to herself?”

 “It’s obvious isn’t it?” growled Inuyasha. “You know what she’s like. She always puts herself last. She likes fixing stuff. She broke the jewel so she needs to fix it. She wants to help us, but she’s worried she’s not good enough”.

 Mirokou narrowed his eyes. “That’s very intuitive of you Inuyasha, if your evaluation of her feelings is correct. But why on earth would she believe that she is not up to the task?”

 “How would I know?” barked Inuyasha. “I don’t understand half the stuff that goes on in that wench’s head!” He ran his claws through his long hair in exasperation. “I talked to her mother, and she said something about stubbornness, and burdens, and… and families.”

 Sango looked towards the two figures who were getting further away, just about to move out of sight behind a gently sloping hill. “She’s comparing herself to us, isn’t she”, she sighed. Inuyasha looked at her blankly.

 Mirokou nodded. “I feel I know what you are getting at my dear Sango. We grew up learning the art of defence and combat out of necessity. Kagome has grown up in a time of peace, where these skills are not necessary. She has never had the need to learn them, but now the current situation with the shikon jewel has thrust her into an ongoing battle which she feels she lacks the skills for.”

 Sango nodded, turning her face back towards the fast disappearing figure of Kagome. “Alright, we are her family here, and we need to help. What can we do?”

 Inuyasha looked at them both, relieved that they understood the situation. “Sango, you can teach her some hand-to-hand stuff; maybe teach her how to use a knife for when she runs out of arrows.” Sango nodded, looking determined. “Mirokou, I know you can make spiritual barriers for defence, do you think that’s something Kagome could do as well?”

 “I’m sure of it”, he nodded.

 “Good”, huffed Inuyasha. “But, we have to try and make it seem like the wench has come up with the idea of doing this with us herself. It needs to seem like she’s helping us in some way, or she’ll get all twitchy about it. I know she likes sorting stuff out herself, but we don’t have time to wait. Something happened recently in her world that made her lose confidence in herself, so if we…”

 Sango’s eyes flashed. “What happened, Inuyasha?”

 Inuyasha gulped. “I promised I wouldn’t say”, he said firmly, eyeing the taijiya’s grip on her hiraikotsu warily. “But, she needs us. She’s forgotten that she can ask us for help too.” Suddenly his head shot up, his ears swivelling rapidly in the direction of the girl and the fox kit. They were now out of sight, but he could hear a shrill yelp of surprise and fear from Shippou, and the dull thwack of Kagome’s arrow hitting a target. “Fuck it”, he growled out, “she’s in trouble again!”

 He leapt forward, leg muscles bunching as he put on a burst of speed that had Sango, Mirokou and Kirara scrambling to catch up. Kagome and Shippou must have just turned around the bend in the road. As he got closer he could hear an eerie hissing, squeaking sound, that set his teeth on edge. He put on another spurt of speed, only to be confronted by a gigantic rhinoceros beetle that towered over Shippou and Kagome. The sound was coming from beneath the beetle’s tough outer wings.

 “Jewel shard behind its eyes”, yelled Kagome, dancing backwards hurriedly as a spur shaped projection on one of the beetle’s segmented legs came a little too close for comfort. Inuyasha could see one arrow wedged in between the shiny black segments near the monster’s neck. “My arrows are just bouncing off; its shell is too hard. We need to get it in the air, so I can shoot under the wings!”

 “I can’t leave you alone for one moment, can I wench?!”, roared Inuyasha, drawing his Tessaiga and glaring at the monster beetle. The beetle raised and lowered its enormous y-shaped horn menacingly as if in challenge, its mouthparts moving furiously. “Kagome, Shippou, get behind me, I’m going to try and tip it with the Wind Scar!” He readied his stance, as Kagome and Shippou moved to run behind him. All three of them were taken by surprise as the huge beetle suddenly flipped its outer wings upward, and with a deep thrumming buzz, launched itself into the air, catching up Kagome with the clawed protrusions on the ends of its front legs. Kagome’s bow clattered uselessly on the ground as she fought to get free.

 “Sango!”, bellowed Inuyasha, as he leapt to grab on to one of the beetle’s legs as it quickly became airborne. The shiny black surface was slick in his hand, his claws scrabbling to get any purchase as he tried to swing himself onto the creature’s head. He could hear Kagome’s heart beating frantically, as she struggled to get free of the beetle’s grip, swinging her legs wildly to try and get momentum. The beetle grasped her harder, pushing the barbs on its front legs into her arm and thigh. She shrieked in pain.

 “Kagome! Stop moving, it’s too high! Wait for Kirara!” yelled Inuyasha. He finally succeeded in swinging himself astride the huge beetle, as it bucked in the air, trying to throw him off. He could see Sango and Kirara flying directly under the beetle, with Miroukou and Shippou watching anxiously from the ground below. Kagome stopped her thrashing, and dangled in the monster beetle’s grasp, blood oozing down her arm and leg.

 “Doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere fast”, Kagome muttered back, gritting her teeth as the beetle shifted its front legs, still trying to buck Inuyasha off the back of its head.

 “I wouldn’t be so sure about that”, cried Sango, who had asked Kirara to fly directly underneath Kagome. With a flash, Sango’s katana sliced through the insect’s front legs, dropping Kagome in a messy sprawl onto Kirara’s waiting back. At almost the same moment, Inuyasha plunged the Tessaiga straight down up to the hilt into the gap in between the monster’s head and thorax. Kirara leapt out of the way, fire trailing from her feet as she took Sango and Kagome safely back down to the ground. The droning buzz of the beetle’s wings became intermittent, as the creature’s head began to hang forward, and as the head parted company from its neck, the wings stopped moving altogether as the body began a rapid freefall toward the ground. Inuyasha leapt from the insect just before impact, sliding his feet as he landed in the long grass.

 The head and body landed a good distance apart, but Inuyasha was taking no chances. He loped towards the head, and sliced it in half with his Tessaiga before the shard could assist in the insect’s regeneration. The revealed shard glinted in the afternoon sunlight, amidst the goop oozing from the insect’s cleaved head, the mandibles and antennae still twitching feebly.

 Kagome slid from Kirara’s back, ignoring Sango’s plea to wait, dragging herself forward to the remains of the insect. Reaching down, she grabbed the shard in her fist, and would have fallen forward into the slime if Inuyasha hadn’t grabbed her shoulders from behind to stop her descent.

 “Still a klutz”, he breathed out, drawing her backwards with one arm, holding her tight to his chest. Kagome sagged against him, her legs buckling, her head lolling backwards to rest against his shoulder.

 “Quiet, you”, she mumbled, closing her eyes. She felt sweaty and slightly sick, now that the fight was over, and she could feel blood still dribbling stickily down her leg, collecting in her sock. It felt vaguely ridiculous that they had just fought a giant version of an insect that Souta had once kept as a pet in his bedroom. She wondered idly what it would be like to have a day where at none of them was bleeding. At least it was her this time, and not Inuyasha, Miroukou or Sango, which made for a change.

 “Alright, let’s get you cleaned up wench”, said Inuyasha, lifting Kagome gently into his arms. Even though his voice was its normal brusque pitch, Kagome could feel his hands and arms trembling. She opened one eye to peer up at him as he carried her over to where Sango was waiting with the medical kit, Shippou unpacking bandages, swabs and ointments with the practiced air of someone who was very familiar with the task. Kagome lifted her uninjured arm to swipe her hand at his cheek.

 “Hey”, she said, trying to read his expression. His amber eyes glanced down at her and then looked away again, his ears drooping forward.

 “I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough”, he murmured miserably.

 “Don’t sweat it, dog boy”, she smiled, trying to cheer him up. “You’re just upset that I get to be the star of the medical show today instead of you. I’m already good at first aid; gives you guys a chance to practice on me. And we got another jewel shard.”

 Inuyasha huffed out a sigh, and placed her gently on the grassy bank of the low sloping hill, in between Sango and Shippou.

 “Where’s Miroukou?”, inquired Kagome, looking around.

 “He’s doing a quick perimeter check”, replied Sango. She placed pressure on the wound on Kagome’s thigh, which was still bleeding. “Let’s start bandaging you up, Kagome”.

 Kagome sighed. “Insects often carry diseases and bacteria, so these wounds are gonna have to be cleaned really well with salt water first. You’ll find some in little plastic bags filled with it in the front section of the first aid kit.”

Shippou looked at Kagome anxiously. “Won’t that hurt, though?”

“Yeah”, replied Kagome, smiling at him, “but it’s better to do that now, than let them get infected later. You can help Sango, the quicker it’s over, the less time I’ll have to think about it, and then we can get moving again.”

 Without a word, Inuyasha pulled Kagome onto his lap. Kagome ‘eeped’ in surprise, and Sango raised an eyebrow questioningly at him.

 “What!”, he bristled, “I’m helpin’!”

 Shippou dropped his anxious look to grin at Inuyasha mischievously, but silently fished the saline packets out of the first aid kit and handed them to Sango.

 Inuyasha watched as Sango cleaned Kagome’s wounds carefully. They weren’t very wide, but looked deep, and he held his breath at her pained hiss as Sango irrigated them with salt water. At Kagome’s suggestion she placed a piece of tape across each wound to hold them closed before bandaging them up. Inuyasha could feel Kagome drooping in his arms as the minute’s ticked by.

 “Hey, you ok wench?” he asked uneasily.

 “Yeah”, sighed Kagome, and yawned. “You ever have one of those days, where you think things would have worked out better if you’d just stayed in bed?”

 “All the time wench, all the time. Especially since I met you, you attract trouble like nobody else.”

 “Hey”, protested Kagome sleepily, her head already nodding forward.

 Mirokou arrived back from his check of the surrounding area, bending down to look at the patient.

 “Was Kagome badly injured?” he questioned, taking in her closed eyes and limp pose in Inuyasha’s lap.

 “Not too badly”, replied Sango, as she and Shippou packed up the medical kit, “but I think she’s exhausted. What do you think, Inuyasha? Should we find somewhere close by to camp, or keep heading on to the village?”

 “Village”, replied Inuyasha, getting to his feet, with the sleeping Kagome still resting in his arms. “That carcass is gonna start attracting scavengers soon, and I don’t wanna be anywhere near it with Kagome out of action. If you three ride on Kirara, and I carry Kagome, we can get there in an hour or two.” He sniffed the air, glancing over towards the west, where dark clouds were building. “We should beat the storm if we leave now.”

 Mirokou gathered up Kagome’s backpack, Shippou picked up the quiver, and Sango the bow, unstringing it carefully so it would be easier to carry on Kirara’s back. As Kirara bounded into the air, the four of them silently watched the hanyou striding towards the east purposefully, with Kagome cradled gently in his arms.

[polotanker6-blog]

Through all of the ups and downs, Joakim Noah is the happiest he has ever been

Basketball for Joakim Noah long was a dream, the gangly French kid trying to assimilate in a strange society, and become familiar with the United States as well. Basketball was a New York City religion that viewed a kid like Noah as an apostate, for he was. But he played the game the right way on and off the court and he became a star, a celebrity, an iconoclast, and then, as it often happens, his dream became a nightmare of failure, uncertainty, rejection and anguish. The darkness for one of the most famous and infamous players in Bulls history finally seems to have receded after almost four years. It's almost as if Joakim Noah awakened and asked, "Is this heaven?"

No, it turns out it's Memphis.

"I lost my confidence," admits Noah, whose Memphis Grizzlies are in the United Center Wednesday for the final game before All-Star break. "Now I am starting to get my swagger back on the court. Memphis gave me an opportunity; that was the only team that called. I am starting to feel better and better every time I step on the court because I am playing consistently and I am healthy for the first time in a long time, knock on wood."

A successful life requires a lot of luck. And a lot of work. The Spurs' organization has polarized the stonecutter's credo actually made famous in New York by 19th Century social reformer Jacob Riis. Keep hammering until the stone breaks. Joakim Noah's basketball career, indeed, encompassed some knocking on wood and breaking into the seemingly impervious rock of professional basketball.

"Everything with the Bulls, it was so early on, the best times," reminisces Noah about that nine-year run in Chicago in which a 6-11, mop topped, hippie bohemian was perhaps as much everyman as any who have been through the city's sporting landscape. "The Boston (2009 playoff) series was so much fun, Brooklyn (in 2013). Winning and losing is important, but it is also appreciating what you are doing; we were living a dream even though we didn't know it.

"I think if this would have happened to me in Chicago, losing the way we are losing, losing like this, blowing a 20-point lead in the fourth quarter (against Denver in January), losing streaks, the cooler would be destroyed and the heads would be off the showers and those bottles would be all over the place," Noah said with a smile, pointing toward a row of energy drinks as we sat in the Grizzlies locker room after a recent game. "I don't think I could have handled it. I couldn't sleep. I would just be an ass to everyone around me. Like now, I can appreciate just being in the locker room, to experience life playing with some hungry young guys who are fighting for their lives, guys who are working hard, things we all can work on, but keep on improving.

"Losing," Noah acknowledged, "obviously is frustrating. But you have to learn from it, use this time to keep building because with losing comes frustration and frustration can take away what's important. So we've got to keep a mindset on what's important and be ready. I feel pretty good. I haven't played in a while, three years, honestly, since I've gotten consistent minutes. It was tough, injuries and suspension and a lot of factors. So I'm just cherishing my opportunity and just trying to do my best. I'm not about trying to be my old self; it's about being happy on the court and competing and I feel I am starting to get to a level where I am enjoying myself.

"This is my 12th season," Noah noted, and he seemed as surprised as I was. "I've been through a lot of ups and downs. There were times with the Knicks I thought it was over. But right now as much as we are losing, it's like I'm the happiest I've been in my life. I've got my daughter, who is a beautiful daughter, Leia; she's two. My son Emaan. My beautiful girlfriend (Lais Ribeiro) is awesome; I love her to death. I am at peace in my life."

You just have to feel good and smile for Joakim Noah, and not just because of that season high 19 points and 14 rebounds earlier this week in the Grizzlies win over New Orleans. Noah added a typical eight points, four rebounds, four assists and two steals in the Grizzlies Tuesday one-point loss to the San Antonio Spurs. He doesn't play every game, always off the bench and often fewer than 20 minutes with the Grizzles going through their own doubts. But you can still find him at the high post searching out those lob dunk passes and back door cuts, with that high dribble out of the backcourt you're wincing about until it turns into a layup. Bearded with his hair in a bun in that most unconventional of NBA looks and his arms always outstretched ready for the pass, Noah seems to be welcoming the present as a gift. He still isn't looking for the shot much. But he's rolling hard off those screens and dunking with not so peaceful intentions. Noah has two double/doubles in his last four games and is averaging 11 points and 8.7 rebounds in 23 minutes per game this month.

But like Noah says, being back is both not everything about the games, but so much about the game.

"I've been through a lot of ups and downs. There were times with the Knicks I thought it was over. But right now as much as we are losing, it's like I'm the happiest I've been in my life." - Joakim Noah

The camaraderie of the locker room, the exotic aromas of deodorants, lotions and old socks, the expanding cacophony while running out of the tunnel and onto the court, the feel of the rough leather of the ball, the lights and noise and then the moment tracing the arc of the ball to find position, the ensuing wrestling match, the chance to do something for your guys.

"After that first year in New York, I had just got my drug suspension, I had my shoulder surgery and a knee surgery at the same time; I was just emotionally drained," Noah admitted about his bitter free agency. "I didn't even want to play anymore. The injuries were piling up so much I didn't feel I could physically do it anymore. But I was blessed to be around some good people. I got in a real healthy environment and I'm starting to feel…. It's taken a long time to get that feeling back. I haven't felt this good in four years."

Never much the classic athlete with those long strides and almost military style arm movements running, Noah was hardly the recruiting poster for NBA achievement. Which perhaps is one reason why he related so well. His famous soliloquy about why he plays, for the guy freezing outside selling newspapers, the guy at the top of the arena cheering like crazy, the people whom the game means so much and to whom he wants to take pride in their team. It may have been the most genuine and revealing explanation of the game and what drives fans' passions.

Noah had that funky, sideways spinning shot and looked the least like a world class athlete. He was bursting with the intangibles most so cherish but cannot scout. He led his U. of Florida team to a pair of NCAA championships, wasn't a top five draft pick, arrived at the NBA draft in an outfit better suited for Ringling Brothers and a body looking like the recipient of beach sand.

"I look back on my time in Chicago and I don't want to think of the bad things because the great times outweigh that so much." - Joakim Noah

But before he was done in Chicago he became all-NBA first team, a Defensive Player of the Year, probably the greatest center in franchise history and the star of two of the greatest games in franchise history. Neither won a title, so they aren't quite as celebrated. But there was Noah with the winning play against Paul Pierce to wrap up the triple overtime win over the defending champion Boston Celtics in Game 6 of the 2009 first round series. The Bulls would lose Game 7. Then there was a double/double in Nate Robinson's crazy triple overtime win in the first round of the 2013 playoffs, though the highlight really was Noah's seventh game domination without injured Derrick Rose, Luol Deng and Kirk Hinrich to defeat the Nets in Brooklyn even on foot injuries so bad he wasn't supposed to play.

Joakim Noah gave his body for the game and the fans and it eventually couldn't couldn't sustain.

The Bulls understood it was going bad in the 2015-16 season, and so was the team as it would be the last for Rose and Noah in Chicago. That great group, so beloved and so close, was at its end.

"Even coming off the bench (behind Pau Gasol), so many things I look back on my time in Chicago and I don't want to think of the bad things because the great times outweigh that so much," Noah said. "I'm not afraid to talk about the good and bad. I just saw Luol, Taj (Gibson) at dinner. You don't even have to say anything being with those guys now. It's just about the vibe of being around, how much respect there is there because of what we went through. Now that I've been around I realize and found out that it's rare. But you don't know it then.

"Because it's genuine what we went through, some wars and we wanted to win so bad and we fought so hard every night," Noah recalled. "I'm so (darned) proud of that to this day. That's what will be the highlight of my career.

"That Boston series, but I also look back on so many little things like being in the locker room with Derrick. With Lu and Taj, we were talking about this the other day. A little thing," Noah says. "We are playing Phoenix with Vinny (Del Negro) as coach. Kirk was our best pick and roll defender and so Vinny goes, ‘Kirk, you got Steve Nash.' And D-Rose is a rookie and goes, "Nah, I got Steve Nash. I'm not running from no matchup.' And Vinny goes, ‘But Kirk is our best pick and roll defender, you got Barbosa.' He goes, ‘Nah, I got Steve Nash.' And so we're like. ‘Oh crap, the rookie's talking like that?' Then in the game you see D-Rose standing next to Steve Nash. ‘I got him! I got him!' Things like that, stuff we'd laugh at being on the plane, rolling dice with Drew Gooden; it was always more than just the basketball.

"We didn't win it," Noah notes. "But the energy and the hope of having the chance, and we had a chance. And that's almost just as big. You realize after. Do you have a chance to win it? Maybe one, two times in your career if you are lucky. The year D-Rose got hurt and the year before there was a chance. That was special."

When it's going good it's normal and natural not only to believe it will continue, but get even better. So it seemed for Noah, a big, four-year contract to play back home in New York and for Phil Jackson, whom Noah long idolized, in front of his old crowd who laughed at the clumsy and spindly kid who got to the good basketball camps by agreeing to help pick up towels. In the world's greatest arena for his team growing up, introduced from his Hell's Kitchen neighborhood just west of the arena. How great was this going to be?

"I don't even know what happened in Chicago," Noah admits about that awkward final season in 2015-16 with a new coach, on the bench, lots of unpleasantness. "I didn't want to shoot. By the end of the Chicago thing, I wasn't loving it; it was starting to become a job. There were so many things going on I was starting to lose my love for the game. But it's like I wish what I went through in New York earlier I would have realized how good I had it in Chicago. I am not pointing fingers at anyone; it's just what happened. It sucks because I think just not being right mentally and physically at that time, it cost us."

Noah had shoulder surgery following that final Bulls season, but he seemed recovered enough for that contract. His highlight may have been that first game in Chicago early in the season, 16 points and nine rebounds in an easy Knicks win. His last double digit scoring game as a Knick was in January of that season, 12 points and 16 rebounds, and again against the Bulls in a win. But he wasn't producing enough in a dysfunctional New York environment, exacerbated by the demands of being back home. It's much more difficult to go home in the NBA that in life.

"It's tough to play at home," Noah concedes. "Even tougher with success with someone like Derrick. Something people don't realize is being young and that successful and having to deal with home. People can't relate. I remember my first game in New York against Memphis. I played well, the whole Garden was chanting my name, I was in tears and it was crazy. I had like 50 people in my apartment after the game and my father was looking at me shaking his head like, ‘This is a going to be a long year for you.' I was like, ‘I got this.' But I wasn't ready. I thought I was ready and I was not ready."

Noah had a 20-game drug suspension at the end of that season into the 2017-18 season, and his Knicks contract was already being condemned and mocked. He became the face of Jackson's failure. He played briefly, played a game in the G-league, got into a verbal exchange on the bench with coach Jeff Hornacek and basically was banished. He was released before the start of this season owed the last two years of his contract. He played in 53 games over two years in New York and averaged about five points and eight rebounds.

"Failing at home on a real public level was very humbling," Noah admitted. "We had a lot of success in Chicago, but what happened in New York also made me grow as a person and focus on what was important because a lot was thrown at me in New York in a really short time. In Chicago, everything was about winning and losing basketball games, and I realize now that I can compete and also have a life, a balance.

"It was not good, but now I can go back and say I wouldn't trade it because it makes me cherish even more what I have," Noah says. "It's tough because I'll look back and say I wish I played well at home, I wish I didn't let Phil down. It took me a long time to even digest that. I used to think I was playing for people's respect, almost like people looking at me like I was a joke. Even in New York, it was, ‘He's a clown, doesn't take the game serious.' So after my first year in New York, I wanted to come out and prove to everybody I could help the team and be a player and help the team compete and I never really got that opportunity.

"I'm sitting on the side of the bench in Madison Square Garden, not even on the bench, behind the bench, healthy. I had to deal with that for months," Noah lamented about his exile. "That was one of the toughest things I ever had to deal with, getting killed in your home town and not being able to do anything about it. I felt management and the coach at the time, they didn't show me any respect for what I was going through. There were times they could have given me opportunities and didn't.

"At the point I got kicked off the team, I was really angry and pissed off," Noah admitted. "I was partying and getting paid a lot of money and had no direction; that was tough. You don't realize with basketball and the NBA and high school and college, it's your routine and you are so locked in you take it for granted until you don't have it anymore. So it became, ‘If you really want to keep playing basketball, it's not a situation you can wait the way I was living my life.' If I kept doing what I was doing it's over."

The life vest was Noah's surfing friends Laird Hamilton and Gabrielle Reece. They took him into their home and their intense training, the healthy environment and food, the lifestyle. He finally was ready, but the NBA wasn't. Not for the flake. Finally, the Grizzlies called and it became Christmas morning again. Life was great; now it could be even better at 34 later this month.

"Failing at home on a real public level was very humbling." - Joakim Noah

We talked for a long time after that game in Charlotte. The Bulls were in town waiting to play the Hornets. The Grizzlies were staying over that night, and Noah was going to meet up with some of the old Bulls support staff. That's right, the workers. The Grizzlies' security said the team bus was leaving. Typical of Noah, he said he'd walk back to the hotel. NBA players do not do this anymore. With Noah wrapped up in a hooded sweatshirt, I asked him as we walked if he would consider returning to the Bulls to finish his career, even for a day in one of those one-day contracts players sometimes sign. The Bulls talk a lot about spirit, heart and soul, Joakim Noah's daily companions.

"I'm a live in the moment type person," the 6-11 maverick said with a smile. "So I'm not there. I just want to finish this year off strong and be healthy and grow from there."

Source: https://www.nba.com/bulls/features/through-all-ups-and-downs-joakim-noah-happiest-he-has-ever-been

[tylerhoech]

daliaaaaa could you tell me your fave sterek fics please?? :)

How could you ask me this? Do you have any idea how manysterek fics I’ve read over the years? How many I’ve loved?

This is a short list of the very few I could think of offthe top of my head. I think I’ll probably make a recs page, because I’ve beenmeaning to for a long time. I have a recs tag, but that includes differentpairings as well.

Sideways and Slantways and Longways and Backways

“I called you a slave-driver!” Stiles cried hysterically. “I called you an ogre! I stole all the blue paperclips!”Derek raised an eyebrow at him.“That’s company property!” he shouted, waving his arms madly in distress.Derek ran a hand over his face. “It’s not theft if the vice president of the company gives you permission.” (Otherwise known as the Elevator AU)

The Price

Stiles must surrender the most important thing in his life to protect the town… and no one can figure out what it was.

Around The Bend

The first time Derek catches sight of the new yoga instructor, Stiles is in the middle of showing a class how to do downward-facing dog. Derek walks into a wall.

Things don’t exactly improve from there.

Derek can’t stop staring at Stiles, the bendy new yoga instructor at his family’s gym. Stiles thinks Derek’s a repressed homophobe who hates Stiles for making him want the D. They fall in love.

can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful

“Be cool, Dad, we’ve decided to con Grandma.”

(Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma’s and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Possibly I Like The Thrill Of Under Me You

It’s not that the idea of Stiles talking about him doesn’t make his stomach wrap itself in knots, it’s that it does just that. It makes him unbelievably uncomfortable and he doesn’t quite know why. He’s twenty seven years old, he pays taxes, he takes his mother out for lunch on Sundays; he is a grown up. But he’s getting weird butterflies when he glances over his shoulder to look at Stiles and a heat in his chest that feels something like what he supposes want must feel like.

i want to say all those things that would be better unsaid

Derek is a lonely professor who decides to call a phone sex line.

Stiles is a poor grad student who needs to make a living somehow.

“One night stands were never this good. Hell, his previous relationships were never this good. Derek was so screwed, but right now he didn’t care.”

Little Kid Crush

“What’s your name?” Derek asks, wiping the last of the tears off the kid’s face with his sleeve.

“’tiles,” the kid mumbles, and Derek frowns, wondering if he heard correctly.

“Tiles?” Derek repeats.

“Stiles,” the kid repeats, pouting at Derek slightly, defiant even though his eyes are still puffy and red and his cheeks tear-stained.

Ten Days

Derek Hale does not like babies. So when his pack gets turned into babies, it’s pretty much the worst thing that could happen to him.

Introduction to Zero-Sum Anthropology

Stiles buys Derek a set of cooking spoons. Derek retaliates with lunch.

The war begins.

Here’s My Hand if You’ll Take It (I Can Be That Part of You)

When Stiles is away at college, he realises that he’s in love with Derek. He also realises that he doesn’t exactly have the qualities an alpha needs in a mate. Boyfriend. Whatever. So he decides to change, with a little help from Martha Stewart. It’s just that Stiles isn’t all that great when it comes to tending to the betas, baking or cleaning. But maybe he doesn’t have to be.

The One Where Stiles Vets Derek’s Girlfriends

Across the loft, Cora claps her hands. “Okay, new rule. Any time Derek wants a date, one of us has to vet her first.”

Scott, who’s actually upside down on Derek’s couch, in apparent celebration of their defeat of the alpha pack—which somehow ended with Kali trying to give Derek her number, and he still doesn’t know how that happened, because he’s the worst alpha ever—says, “You know who’s got really good people instincts?”

Blind Date With A Book

Stiles thought the Blind Date With a Book trend was a great way to drum up business for his small bookshop. He definitely thought it was a great idea after the hot guy kept returning and buying more blind dates with books.

Derek didn’t know how he kept getting set up on blind dates by his family, or why he kept going on them. The highlight of his night was when the date was over and he could go to the little bookshop in town and buy something to read for the rest of the night. He wanted to read, not date.

the banana bread incident

“Is this a plastic spoon?” Stiles demands in disgust. “You do realise that there’s actual cutlery in the kitchen, right? I’m surrounded by morons who don’t know how to use a kitchen.”

“I know how to use a kitchen,” Derek protests lazily. “It’s just that all the other spoons were dirty.”

“There’s this revolutionary new invention,” Stiles says, widening his eyes in mock-amazement. “It’s called a sink.”

In which there are tiny pink shorts, a kissing gate, a cat called Pumpkin and a plethora of awkward moments.

Gravity’s Got Nothing on You

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

A Cunning Plan

Stiles has a plan to get Lydia Martin to notice him. Derek is not impressed.

Strut on a Line, its Discord and Rhyme

“Carry me,” Stiles says.

“No.”

“But I’m injured.”

“You have a rash,” Derek says. “On your arm. Your feet work just fine.”

“Please?”

“No. You weigh almost as much as I do. And you ate a pound of chicken at lunch.”

“Well, yeah, but I pooped like an hour ago, so.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Don’t play, you love me.”

I do, Derek thinks, relatively horrified. I really do.

Jerk of Art 

The worst thing, ever, is being uninspired. There is literally nothing worse than putting a pencil to paper and having nothing come out. So, of course, when Stiles’ visual arts professor instructs the class to sketch someone as detailed as they possibly can, and Stiles pulls up a blank on people to draw, he wants to punch himself in the face.  

Safety In Silence

It’s perfectly understandable. Even Derek wouldn’t want to be Derek’s soulmate. 

Every Step You Take

Stiles accidentally ends up magically bound to Derek. It’s super.

Hemingway Can Suck It

“For those of you who just transferred into this class or simply decided that day one wasn’t important enough to attend, I’m Professor Hale. Welcome to English 346, The American Novel.”

Stiles is pretty sure his mouth is hanging open right now and that his eyes are wide with shock, because holy fuck, he thinks he knows why his students transferred. Hell, if he was still an undergrad, he probably would have transferred, too.

(Or: In which Stiles is a Biology professor and Derek thinks he’s a student.)

Untamed

Of course, the transfer kid gets mentioned because transfers are rare, but the news isn’t that exciting. In fact, according to Laura, no one even seems to know his first name. The only thing anyone has really figured out about him is that he’s American. And that’s not exactly hard because he obviously has an accent.

The only thing Derek really knows is that, despite other reports, he seems quiet enough, prefers to work alone, and has the most amazing shade of amber eyes that Derek has ever seen.

Not that he’s looking. Obviously.

OR: A Harry Potter AU where Stiles is a Slytherin transfer student and Derek is the grumpy Gryffindor who falls in love with him.

There are also potions, elves, and falcons involved. Oh, and illegal use of magic. Obviously.

Midnight Wolf vs Abominable Snowman!

Derek almost makes the mistake of saying, It’s not fanart, but he manages to catch himself, biting his tongue. This stranger, who’s already identified himself as at least a casual fan of Midnight Wolf, doesn’t need to know that he actually is the artist and author, not just another fan.

headlong (I’m falling in a)

Kink meme fill: When Stiles goes to college, for some reason, he has to share an apartment with Derek, which sucks, because Derek still hates him the most. They fall in love.

Binomial Coefficients

In which brainy freshman Stiles Stilinski wants star quarterback Derek Hale to join the math team, AKA math nerds in love.

John Hughes Did Not Direct My Life

Stiles and Derek are childhood friends who drifted apart. When Stiles joins the lacrosse team against his will, the universe (with a little help from Laura and Lydia) chooses to push them back together.

Patterns of Intention

Derek looked like the stuff of his deepest fantasies. His shirt was rumpled where Stiles had his hands in it, and he was breathing hard as well, chest heaving. His eyes—his eyes were glazed over and he looked stunned, like he’d been—like Stiles had—

“No,” Stiles said, blood draining from his face. The word was croaky and felt like it had to be wrenched out of his chest. “God, no.”

Insane Chemistry (with Derek Hale)

Derek is the popular, varsity jock, prom king of the school, and Stiles is not going to be the cliche that ends up falling for him. (It’s not a cliche if no one else knows about it, right?)

Not Your Disney Romance

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack’s alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Five Times the Sheriff Found Derek Hale in His Son’s Bedroom

There’s a pattern Sheriff Stilinski just can’t ignore.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

There’s so many more I want to rec, but I think these are enough for now!

[flauntpage]

A Pulse, A Hart-Beat and a Couple of Brain Cramps – Thoughts after Flyers 2, Stars 1

It finally happened. After such a long drought, it finally came to pass.

No, I’m not talking about the end of the Flyers eight-game losing streak – although that too did come to an end Thursday.

Instead, I’m talking about a glimpse of what the Flyers thought they were getting when they signed James van Riemsdyk to a five-year, $35 million contract.

JVR had a hand in both Flyers goals in the team’s first win of 2019. His goal, the game-winner, was a bit fortuitous. His assist on the first goal of the game was nifty.

It was his sixth multiple-point game in 28 games since returning to the Flyers. That’s not a terrible percentage in this day and age.

That said, there have been far too many goose eggs. There were far too many games where JVR has been just a body skating around on the ice. He’s hardly lived up to his reputation as a potential 30-plus goal scorer who sets up shop in the greasy areas in front of the net and goes to work.

Maybe it was returning somewhere he had played before and expecting things to be similar, but they’re not. Maybe it was an expectation that he could play the same way he did in Toronto, where he was pretty successful for six seasons, and found out that won’t fit in the Flyers system.

Heck, the critics will say he’s playing like a guy who is comfortably sitting on his wallet after his big pay day, but knowing JVR, I doubt that’s the case.

A lot of the same weaknesses that have always been in JVR’s game are still there today. They’ve never gone away. But they are the kinds of things you can live with when the guy is potting 30-plus goals in a season.

Except, that wasn’t happening for him with the Flyers.

Yes, he missed some time with an injury that cost him six weeks early in the season, but he has now played in 28 games, and the Flyers were hoping for more than seven goals and nine assists through that many games. Extrapolated over a full 82, that’s about 19 goals and 24 assists for 43 points – a far cry from his totals last season in Toronto where he had 36 goals last season and was between 54 and 62 points in each of the four seasons he played nearly a full schedule of games.

It had gotten so bad for JVR, who before Thursday had only scored one goal in nine games that he was demoted to fourth line duty against Washington on Tuesday.

He cleared the air with coach Scott Gordon and seemed to get a better sense of what the Flyers interim coach wants him to do, and was given a chance to be put back on the top line with Claude Giroux and Travis Konecny against the Stars and it paid off.

It might have been JVR’s best game of the season for the Flyers. One, the team hopes, he can build off of and start playing like the player they were hoping would be a big part of the team’s success in the coming seasons.

“That’s professional sports right there,” van Riemsdyk said. “There should be dialogue between your coaches and players, that’s the only way you get growth. Especially I think for me, again I’m in a new situation and a new team and I want to try to get my bearings right and again there’s always some things you can clarify so things become a little second nature. I mean when you’re playing in a certain place for a long time, things become second nature that maybe they want you to do a little differently here so there’s been some good communication and dialogue about some of that stuff and yeah it’s good.

“I have a good relationship with Gordo since I played for him in Toronto and some USA hockey stuff so I appreciate him taking some time to talk me through some things that he wanted to see and some different things that we’re trying to do.  So yeah I think it makes it easier when you have that dialogue.”

Here’s the assist, which was his best play of the game:

TRAVIS KONECNY TIPS HOME JAMES VAN RIEMSDYK'S FEED!#LetsGoFlyers pic.twitter.com/sdIZoNyMGR

— Hockey Daily (@HockeyDaily365) January 11, 2019

Radko Gudas really makes the play with a great keep and shot from the point (more on him later), but JVR made a slick little no-look pass to Konecny to get the Flyers on the board first.

His goal was a bit fluky, but if you get to the spots on the ice where you have your most success, good things can happen:

The pigeon! pic.twitter.com/IvzDUMnW5R

— Broad Street Hockey (@BroadStHockey) January 11, 2019

There’s been a lot of double doinks in Philly sports recently, hasn’t there?

Anyway, JVR addressed this as well, saying that getting to the right spaces on the ice is part of where scoring success comes from in this league.

“The roles that I’ve been in are a lot of net-front stuff and being the stretch guy and a lot of that is reading the other players and playing off their speed. It’s kind of funny because guys who score goals – guys like Alex Ovechkin and Steven Stamkos – it’s not like they’re always blasting around and sprinting and stopping. They’re kind of meandering and they find that soft spot. People wonder, ‘how’d they get there?’ Well, they know where to go and how to get to the right spot when [their teammate] is ready to pass it. That’s what you try to learn over the course of your career.”

Dodging the missed opportunity bite

For one night, JVR was able to get to the right spot multiple times and it parlayed into a Flyers win. One that ended up being a nailbiter because the Flyers missed out on three consecutive odd man rushes. A 3-on-1 (shorthanded) a 2-on-1 (shorthanded) and a 2-on-0 with JVR and Konecny:

Anton Khudobin makes the save on the 2-on-0 rush. pic.twitter.com/ZQ90WmZg47

— Broad Street Hockey (@BroadStHockey) January 11, 2019

“It was funny because me and TK had just been talking about it after the 2-on-1 right before our chance and we were saying how [Stars goalie Anton Khudobin] likes to sit on the pass so we have to shoot one and sure enough we make two passes back and forth like dummies after we had just talked about it,” van Riemsdyk said. “It’s a fine line though, you don’t want to be the guy who goes in on a 2-on-none and misses either.”

Funny game, hockey. In almost any other sport, the players have a me-first attitude. Hockey is the other way around, to a fault sometimes.

“The Kid looks really good.”

On the elevator ride and subsequent jaunt to the locker room after the game, I happened to ride down with Dallas Stars goaltending coach and former Flyers goalie coach Jeff Reese.

After checking in on him and his family and talking about how well the Dallas goaltending duo of Khudobin and Ben Bishop have been playing, and crediting their coaching, Reese said, “Nah, my job is to just wave the pom-poms.” He then changed the subject to talk about Carter Hart.

“The kid looks really good,” he said. “His positioning and quickness is good for sure, but the thing that impresses me the most is his poise. He’s not rattled. That’s impressive for a 20-year-old kid.”

This was unsolicited mind you. It’s the kind of thing that indicates there is a buzz going on around the league about Hart and the way he’s looked so far.

His save percentage is now a solid .920. He makes a lot of saves look easy. His flaws – based solely on inexperience rather than an inability to do something – seem to get corrected quickly. Early in the season – in Lehigh Valley – Hart had a tendency to go down too soon and leave room upstairs for goal scorers to shoot for the top shelf. Now, Hart stands taller longer and relies on his quickness to get down, if he has to do so.

He still struggles a little bit with rebound control, but that’s also something that comes with experience. He tracks the puck so well that it won’t hurt him long term.

Hart has been a bit of an eye-opener. His play might just be changing the mind of GM Chuck Fletcher. Hart was originally called up for a short stint in the NHL, but the kid has earned his keep.

Now, to be fair, the Flyers are uber-defensive in front of him. They tend to put their bodies on the line to block more shots for Hart than they do other goalies, so that helps (They blocked 18 against Dallas, with Christian Folin leading the way with seven), so there’s that too. But Hart made 37 saves against a red hot Stars team. That’s no small feat, even if very few of the saves seemed to be of the 10-bell variety.

It’s likely to a point where the Flyers won’t hurt his development – at least for awhile anyway (things can always go sideways at some point) – and will be better suited to have him keep playing.

Miscellaneous

Nolan Patrick looked… OK. That’s an improvement over what he’s been looking like recently. But, he’s still giving you the same offensive output as Dale Weise. And his advanced metrics aren’t even as good as Jordan Weal, who can’t stay in the lineup. I still think Patrick would benefit from a little time in Lehigh Valley.

The defense was decent – Gordon switched up the second and third pairs. He went with Gudas and Shayne Gostisbehere and Folin and Robert Hagg.

Gudas has been playing pretty solid hockey for the Flyers for an extended period of time now. He’s truly looking like a very useful piece, and maybe one that could interest other teams at the deadline. He’s really been the most consistent defenseman on this team this season (apologies to Travis Sanheim, who has improved greatly).

There was a moment in the second period where Hagg was getting an extended one-on-one coaching session on the bench from assistant coach Rick Wilson. In the middle of the game, Wilson was hunched over, in Hagg’s ear and drawing frantically on the dry-erase board. There was extended conversation too. Nothing loud or angry. Just a good teaching moment. At the end there were a few pats on the back from Wilson, and Hagg played pretty solid hockey after that. I’m starting to be convinced that the hiring of Wilson may end up being the most underrated move by this organization this season.

Finally, I’m hearing there could be more news coming about the whole Jori Lehtera cocaine ring situation. While one of the members arrested in the ring is now backing off a story that he sold directly to Lehtera, I was told after the game that there might be another connection directly to Lehtera involved in this in Finland. I’m working to confirm what I was told (I’ve actually called a phone number in Finland for the first time in my life) so until I do, I won’t report it here, but I’m honestly perplexed as to why the Flyers are keeping him on the roster at this point. Just waive Lehtera. No one will claim him because of his salary and this investigation. At which point you can either bury him in the minors or give him his outright release. You can’t tell me that it’s better for this team long-term to keep him on this roster at this point than to give someone like a Nicolas Aube-Kubel a real chance to play in the NHL.

  The post A Pulse, A Hart-Beat and a Couple of Brain Cramps – Thoughts after Flyers 2, Stars 1 appeared first on Crossing Broad.

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A Pulse, A Hart-Beat and a Couple of Brain Cramps – Thoughts after Flyers 2, Stars 1

It finally happened. After such a long drought, it finally came to pass.

No, I’m not talking about the end of the Flyers eight-game losing streak – although that too did come to an end Thursday.

Instead, I’m talking about a glimpse of what the Flyers thought they were getting when they signed James van Riemsdyk to a five-year, $35 million contract.

JVR had a hand in both Flyers goals in the team’s first win of 2019. His goal, the game-winner, was a bit fortuitous. His assist on the first goal of the game was nifty.

It was his sixth multiple-point game in 28 games since returning to the Flyers. That’s not a terrible percentage in this day and age.

That said, there have been far too many goose eggs. There were far too many games where JVR has been just a body skating around on the ice. He’s hardly lived up to his reputation as a potential 30-plus goal scorer who sets up shop in the greasy areas in front of the net and goes to work.

Maybe it was returning somewhere he had played before and expecting things to be similar, but they’re not. Maybe it was an expectation that he could play the same way he did in Toronto, where he was pretty successful for six seasons, and found out that won’t fit in the Flyers system.

Heck, the critics will say he’s playing like a guy who is comfortably sitting on his wallet after his big pay day, but knowing JVR, I doubt that’s the case.

A lot of the same weaknesses that have always been in JVR’s game are still there today. They’ve never gone away. But they are the kinds of things you can live with when the guy is potting 30-plus goals in a season.

Except, that wasn’t happening for him with the Flyers.

Yes, he missed some time with an injury that cost him six weeks early in the season, but he has now played in 28 games, and the Flyers were hoping for more than seven goals and nine assists through that many games. Extrapolated over a full 82, that’s about 19 goals and 24 assists for 43 points – a far cry from his totals last season in Toronto where he had 36 goals last season and was between 54 and 62 points in each of the four seasons he played nearly a full schedule of games.

It had gotten so bad for JVR, who before Thursday had only scored one goal in nine games that he was demoted to fourth line duty against Washington on Tuesday.

He cleared the air with coach Scott Gordon and seemed to get a better sense of what the Flyers interim coach wants him to do, and was given a chance to be put back on the top line with Claude Giroux and Travis Konecny against the Stars and it paid off.

It might have been JVR’s best game of the season for the Flyers. One, the team hopes, he can build off of and start playing like the player they were hoping would be a big part of the team’s success in the coming seasons.

“That’s professional sports right there,” van Riemsdyk said. “There should be dialogue between your coaches and players, that’s the only way you get growth. Especially I think for me, again I’m in a new situation and a new team and I want to try to get my bearings right and again there’s always some things you can clarify so things become a little second nature. I mean when you’re playing in a certain place for a long time, things become second nature that maybe they want you to do a little differently here so there’s been some good communication and dialogue about some of that stuff and yeah it’s good.

“I have a good relationship with Gordo since I played for him in Toronto and some USA hockey stuff so I appreciate him taking some time to talk me through some things that he wanted to see and some different things that we’re trying to do.  So yeah I think it makes it easier when you have that dialogue.”

Here’s the assist, which was his best play of the game:

TRAVIS KONECNY TIPS HOME JAMES VAN RIEMSDYK'S FEED!#LetsGoFlyers pic.twitter.com/sdIZoNyMGR

— Hockey Daily (@HockeyDaily365) January 11, 2019

Radko Gudas really makes the play with a great keep and shot from the point (more on him later), but JVR made a slick little no-look pass to Konecny to get the Flyers on the board first.

His goal was a bit fluky, but if you get to the spots on the ice where you have your most success, good things can happen:

The pigeon! pic.twitter.com/IvzDUMnW5R

— Broad Street Hockey (@BroadStHockey) January 11, 2019

There’s been a lot of double doinks in Philly sports recently, hasn’t there?

Anyway, JVR addressed this as well, saying that getting to the right spaces on the ice is part of where scoring success comes from in this league.

“The roles that I’ve been in are a lot of net-front stuff and being the stretch guy and a lot of that is reading the other players and playing off their speed. It’s kind of funny because guys who score goals – guys like Alex Ovechkin and Steven Stamkos – it’s not like they’re always blasting around and sprinting and stopping. They’re kind of meandering and they find that soft spot. People wonder, ‘how’d they get there?’ Well, they know where to go and how to get to the right spot when [their teammate] is ready to pass it. That’s what you try to learn over the course of your career.”

Dodging the missed opportunity bite

For one night, JVR was able to get to the right spot multiple times and it parlayed into a Flyers win. One that ended up being a nailbiter because the Flyers missed out on three consecutive odd man rushes. A 3-on-1 (shorthanded) a 2-on-1 (shorthanded) and a 2-on-0 with JVR and Konecny:

Anton Khudobin makes the save on the 2-on-0 rush. pic.twitter.com/ZQ90WmZg47

— Broad Street Hockey (@BroadStHockey) January 11, 2019

“It was funny because me and TK had just been talking about it after the 2-on-1 right before our chance and we were saying how [Stars goalie Anton Khudobin] likes to sit on the pass so we have to shoot one and sure enough we make two passes back and forth like dummies after we had just talked about it,” van Riemsdyk said. “It’s a fine line though, you don’t want to be the guy who goes in on a 2-on-none and misses either.”

Funny game, hockey. In almost any other sport, the players have a me-first attitude. Hockey is the other way around, to a fault sometimes.

“The Kid looks really good.”

On the elevator ride and subsequent jaunt to the locker room after the game, I happened to ride down with Dallas Stars goaltending coach and former Flyers goalie coach Jeff Reese.

After checking in on him and his family and talking about how well the Dallas goaltending duo of Khudobin and Ben Bishop have been playing, and crediting their coaching, Reese said, “Nah, my job is to just wave the pom-poms.” He then changed the subject to talk about Carter Hart.

“The kid looks really good,” he said. “His positioning and quickness is good for sure, but the thing that impresses me the most is his poise. He’s not rattled. That’s impressive for a 20-year-old kid.”

This was unsolicited mind you. It’s the kind of thing that indicates there is a buzz going on around the league about Hart and the way he’s looked so far.

His save percentage is now a solid .920. He makes a lot of saves look easy. His flaws – based solely on inexperience rather than an inability to do something – seem to get corrected quickly. Early in the season – in Lehigh Valley – Hart had a tendency to go down too soon and leave room upstairs for goal scorers to shoot for the top shelf. Now, Hart stands taller longer and relies on his quickness to get down, if he has to do so.

He still struggles a little bit with rebound control, but that’s also something that comes with experience. He tracks the puck so well that it won’t hurt him long term.

Hart has been a bit of an eye-opener. His play might just be changing the mind of GM Chuck Fletcher. Hart was originally called up for a short stint in the NHL, but the kid has earned his keep.

Now, to be fair, the Flyers are uber-defensive in front of him. They tend to put their bodies on the line to block more shots for Hart than they do other goalies, so that helps (They blocked 18 against Dallas, with Christian Folin leading the way with seven), so there’s that too. But Hart made 37 saves against a red hot Stars team. That’s no small feat, even if very few of the saves seemed to be of the 10-bell variety.

It’s likely to a point where the Flyers won’t hurt his development – at least for awhile anyway (things can always go sideways at some point) – and will be better suited to have him keep playing.

Miscellaneous

Nolan Patrick looked… OK. That’s an improvement over what he’s been looking like recently. But, he’s still giving you the same offensive output as Dale Weise. And his advanced metrics aren’t even as good as Jordan Weal, who can’t stay in the lineup. I still think Patrick would benefit from a little time in Lehigh Valley.

The defense was decent – Gordon switched up the second and third pairs. He went with Gudas and Shayne Gostisbehere and Folin and Robert Hagg.

Gudas has been playing pretty solid hockey for the Flyers for an extended period of time now. He’s truly looking like a very useful piece, and maybe one that could interest other teams at the deadline. He’s really been the most consistent defenseman on this team this season (apologies to Travis Sanheim, who has improved greatly).

There was a moment in the second period where Hagg was getting an extended one-on-one coaching session on the bench from assistant coach Rick Wilson. In the middle of the game, Wilson was hunched over, in Hagg’s ear and drawing frantically on the dry-erase board. There was extended conversation too. Nothing loud or angry. Just a good teaching moment. At the end there were a few pats on the back from Wilson, and Hagg played pretty solid hockey after that. I’m starting to be convinced that the hiring of Wilson may end up being the most underrated move by this organization this season.

Finally, I’m hearing there could be more news coming about the whole Jori Lehtera cocaine ring situation. While one of the members arrested in the ring is now backing off a story that he sold directly to Lehtera, I was told after the game that there might be another connection directly to Lehtera involved in this in Finland. I’m working to confirm what I was told (I’ve actually called a phone number in Finland for the first time in my life) so until I do, I won’t report it here, but I’m honestly perplexed as to why the Flyers are keeping him on the roster at this point. Just waive Lehtera. No one will claim him because of his salary and this investigation. At which point you can either bury him in the minors or give him his outright release. You can’t tell me that it’s better for this team long-term to keep him on this roster at this point than to give someone like a Nicolas Aube-Kubel a real chance to play in the NHL.

  The post A Pulse, A Hart-Beat and a Couple of Brain Cramps – Thoughts after Flyers 2, Stars 1 appeared first on Crossing Broad.

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Throw the Damn Towel! Ten Takeaways from Eagles 51, Broncos 23

We’re at a point where broadcasters are bailing on the Eagles because they’re beating teams so badly.

Yesterday CBS cut to the Ravens/Titans matchup in non-local markets to show a “more competitive game.” Even the local production crew ran out of things to talk about and decided to spend five minutes shouting out their camera operators on live TV.

Ian Eagle: “There’s Bob. And Chris is steady, very steady. Is that camera 1?”

Dan Fouts: “That was camera 1.”

Ian Eagle: “And there’s Janice, who is with us every single week.”

Dan Fouts: “That��s camera 3.”

This is where we’re at. Broadcasters are bored with the 8-1 Eagles, a team sending Nick Foles out for victory formation while winning by three touchdowns.

Look, you can’t run out C.J. Beathard and Brock Osweiler and expect to be competitive against this team. The Birds’ top-ranked rushing D again made an opponent one-dimensional, limiting Denver to just 226 total yards and some garbage time points. Doug Pederson’s offense looked more like the ’99 Rams while putting up 419 yards and 51 points without its best receiver and Pro Bowl left tackle.

  1) Next man up!

The non-availability of Zach Ertz was a late storyline coming into this game, but the Birds didn’t miss a beat. Trey Burton and Brent Celek were targeted eight times for 5 catches, 80 yards, and a touchdown.

They did the damage early, too, no fourth quarter stat padding or shady context here. Burton had a big 3rd and 9 catch on the first drive and Celek snagged two of his three receptions on the first two series. Burton trapped the ball between his legs on a 27-yard touchdown pass to put the Birds up 24-6 with 9:15 still remaining in the second quarter.

Looks like the Birds are fine at the backup tight end spots. Burton is free agent this summer, so this was a big game for him.

  2) Bigger V

Speaking of next man up, did you hear Halipoulivaati Vaitai’s name called?

I think I heard it once, when the Eagles were driving in the second quarter.

Big V was solid yesterday in both run and pass blocking. On this play, a 3rd and 3, he does a nice job to take the safety Will Parks, a smaller and faster guy, and not only engage him quickly but move him sideways to create a lane for LeGarrette Blount:

There really should be enough there for Blount to get through that hole and pick up the first down, but Brandon Marshall does a really nice job of shedding Jason Kelce’s block and making the stop right at the line of gain. Kelce was frustrated with himself after the Eagles failed to convert this:

Vaitai also had a quality block on Jay Ajayi’s touchdown run, taking Shane Ray out of the play to bookend a hole you could drive a truck through:

You can fit six Jay Ajayi in that hole http://pic.twitter.com/Yop4jbBfCl

— Bill Barnwell (@billbarnwell) November 5, 2017

Is Ajayi the plural of Ajayi? Looks right to me.

Anyway, Vaitai was good on the day. The Birds’ game plan made his possible liabilities a non-factor, with quick releases and early pocket movement from Carson Wentz.

  3) All aboard the Jay Train

Jay Ajayi’s first involvement was on a couple of run/pass options, one going to Celek and the other to Alshon Jeffery for a score. He got his first carry later in the half, taking it up the gut for six yards.

One of criticisms Ajayi received from Adam Gase in Miami was that he was trying too hard to hit the “home run” instead of just taking what was in front of him and picking up the yardage.

On the big touchdown run, the only thing in front of him was 46 yards and the end zone, so he took it. Slash that run from the stat sheet, and Ajayi still finished with a respectable 31 yards on 7 other carries, good for a 4.4 YPC average on his Eagles debut. Only twice had he hit that number or gone above it this season.

Crazy what happens when you run behind a decent line.

Jay Ajayi this season, by team:

DOLPHINS 138 carries, 0 TD (most in NFL without scoring)

EAGLES 46-yard TD on 5th carry

¯_(ツ)_/¯

— ESPN Stats & Info (@ESPNStatsInfo) November 5, 2017

  4) Nice Touch

Carson Wentz finished 15/27 for 199 yards and 4 touchdowns.

I don’t know what else there is to say at this point. He’s playing at an MVP level.

One thing that stood out to me was the finesse and footwork he showed on a couple of opening drive passes. We’ve talked in the past about his lack of touch in the short and intermediate passing game, but he really used his feet to roll and release quickly on Sunday.

This one I thought was harder than it looked:

That’s a run/pass option with Celek peeling off the linebacker into space. Even though the ball is tipped, I feel like Wentz timed that release well and put enough oomph on it to make that deflection somewhat irrelevant on the play. Wentz has to wait for Celek to turn his head before he can get rid of it.

The second was on the opening score, another RPO look with a dime over the top:

Alshon Jeffery 32 yard TD http://pic.twitter.com/4BGkQwgb7T

— ⓂarcusD (@_MarcusD2_) November 5, 2017

Good footwork, nice touch over the top. I thought he did the same on the screen pass touchdown as well.

So not only have we seen improvement with Carson’s deep ball this year, but he continues to get better with his footwork and release on those types of plays.

  5) Don’t sleep on me

Last week Tim Reilly wrote a story called, “While You’re Dreaming About Jay Ajayi, Don’t Sleep on Corey Clement.”

Give that man a raise!

With all the Ajayi talk coming into this one, Clement probably had the best game for a Birds running back, handling it 12 times for 51 yards and two touchdowns while adding a 15 yard screen pass score. While it’s true that he took six of those hand offs in the 4th quarter, his early contributions were huge, similar to what you saw from Celek and Burton in the passing game.

I thought the most interesting thing regarding Clement was the design on his second TD run, where the Birds ran an option out of the pistol. I’m pretty sure it’s the first time we’ve seen the pistol this season:

Optionality. #FlyEaglesFly http://pic.twitter.com/HIqbEjQr7s

— Philadelphia Eagles (@Eagles) November 5, 2017

  6) To catch, or not to catch

What is a catch?

I thought for sure that Emmanuel Sanders had possession of this ball and took two steps before going to ground and losing control, but this was ruled an incompletion:

Sanders doesn't complete the process of the catch on 3rd-and-2 and Denver settles for a FG http://pic.twitter.com/mG2Bfb64uZ

— The Bitter Birds (@AdrianFedkiw) November 5, 2017

Denver should have challenged that, or at least tried to convert on 4th and 2 from the opponent’s 35 yard line while losing 17-3. I thought it was a weird decision to kick the field goal there.

  7) Ref, you don’t suck

Denver finished with 14 penalties for 105 yards.

The Birds had 5 for 35.

Savor the moment, because it ain’t gonna happen in Dallas.

The calls were lopsided in the Eagles’ favor for once, but I don’t know if every flag was correct. I mentioned the Sanders catch above. Wentz got away with a pass that looked like intentional grounding while also being dragged down for an unsportsmanlike conduct at the same time.

On the Ajayi touchdown, did he get the ball over the pylon? I don’t think there was conclusive evidence to overturn the call on the field. That goes both ways. If they ruled it out at the one yard line, that call probably would have held as well.

Also, on the 4th quarter strip sack and touchdown, was Von Miller offside here?

Offsides? #DENvsPHI #FlyEaglesFly http://pic.twitter.com/ZomKlaE4IG

— Nick Piccone (@nickpiccone) November 5, 2017

Either way, this crew was 10x better than a Pete Morelli or Ed Hochuli unit. Maybe 15x. Maybe 100x better.

  8) Doug’s worst call?

Every week I write this recap, this Doug Pederson entry becomes more and more pointless.

I guess we’re nitpicking now, but they really showed some poor clock management on that final drive before halftime. Huge lead or not, there was a chance to put some points on the board.

Outside of that, I think Foles could have been in the game sooner. Also, don’t let him throw the ball, just run it every single time. Give Wendell Smallwood and Kenjon Barner the rock and let ’em run out the clock.

Hindsight, folks. It’s always 20/20.

  9) Doug’s best call?

Everything?

I liked the game plan. The quick throws, rollouts, and chip blocking kept Denver’s defense off-balance and neutralized a very good D-line.

Pederson elaborated on the RPO after the game, explaining the mechanics behind Jeffery’s 32-yard touchdown reception:

Q. Take us through that play. I know that QB Carson Wentz throws the ball real well on the move and he just dropped in there. COACH PEDERSON: Refresh my memory.

Q. The RPO — COACH PEDERSON: Oh, the read. It just a play. It’s a read option, read the defensive end. It just so happened we were on the right hash. I think [Broncos OLB] Von [Miller] was over there and we knew their D-end was closed a little bit. It’s just something that we build into that play. It’s something that we’ve — it’s a Day-One-training-camp, Day-One-OTA play. And it’s just a one-step hitch-and-go, and we got 21 to bite on the play. Did a great job throwing the ball on the run and Alshon getting in the end zone.

This is what he’s talking about:

Cornerback Chris Harris Jr. said the he felt like the Eagles knew everything the Broncos were going to do on defense. Part of that is definitely some carryover from Pederson working in Kansas City and seeing Denver’s personnel twice a year.

Harris offered another bit on the RPO stuff:

“They run this college offense. They run kind of what the Chiefs do. They got an option to run, an option to pass. They run the read option, the real option. (Wentz) is checking to a lot of things. It’s a college offense and he’s just executing it very good.”

  10) Putting a “50 burger” on the board

Shout out to CBS for going to Tony Luke’s for the obligatory cheesesteak bump shot and shirking Passyunk Ave.

The “Rocky” mention came around 8:09 in the 4th quarter, with a couple of goofy looking hipsters on the Art Museum steps.

Anyway, I thought Eagle and Fouts did a pretty good job before becoming thoroughly bored in the third quarter, like Ed Rendell on the local post game show:

When you're 8-1, have MVP, coach of year candidates and can't control your emotions! #FlyEaglesFly http://pic.twitter.com/tNHooqy3n0

— Tony Bruno (@TonyBrunoShow) November 5, 2017

Throw the Damn Towel! Ten Takeaways from Eagles 51, Broncos 23 published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv