#did you listen to ANYTHING written by hayden......

[bedforddanes75]

desperately need tiktok ethel cain fans to know how stupid they are

[adamwatchesmovies]

Hoodwinked Too! Hood vs Evil (2011)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

Hoodwinked! Looked awful; so terrible anyone who caught it in theatres probably wondered if there was something wrong with the projector. The writing saved the movie. It featured catchy songs, a novel angle on the fairytale thing and pretty good jokes. Hoodwinked Too! Hood vs. Evil doesn’t have such redeeming qualities. It looks like garbage and the writing is just as poor. Had I seen this in theatres and paid that extra $3 for the 3D, I might’ve died of shame.

Wolf (voiced by Patrick Warburton), Granny (Glen Close), and Twitchy Squirrel (Cory Edwards) now work for the Happily Ever After organization under the supervision of Nicky Flippers (David Ogden Stiers). While Red (this time voiced by Hayden Panettiere) trains in a monastery far away, the group fails to rescue Hansel and Gretel (Bill Hader & Amy Poehler) from the hands of a wicked witch. Their kidnapping is tied to the theft of an age-old desert recipe that grants supernatural abilities, meaning it’s more important than ever for the group to let go of their disagreements and band together.

Once more written by Cory Edwards, Todd Edwards and Tony Leech, the script is abysmal. This sequel came 6 years after the first. Instead of working on the script during that gap, the writers wrote it hours before their deadline, grabbing liberally from the bag of references you’ve seen a thousand times whenever they couldn't think of a joke. Andy Dick returns briefly as Boingo the Bunny, just so they can steal some lines from Silence of the Lambs. We're subjected to references from Star Wars, Goodfellas, and John McLane’s catchphrase from Die Hard… twice. The only children who could possibly tolerate this film are too young to understand these winks and the adults will only furrow their brows. The gags aren’t merely unfunny, they’re anti-funny. You resent "Hoodwinked Too!" and if anyone amusing did actually come up (theoretically, mind you), you wouldn’t laugh out of spite.

This movie constantly pelts you with gimmicky voice acting - Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong voice two of the Three Little Pigs. It’s a desert barren of imagination and creativity. At no point does the film do anything pleasantly surprising. Japeth the Goat returns. Your heart leaps. Perhaps a comical song is underway? Nope. Just a forgettable, horrid tune. They find a way to crowbar in the Woodsman (Martin Short) again but he’s nothing but a plot device to get us from the second act to the third. Nothing more. You don’t care about anything on-screen. The animators didn't either. Granted, they had to stick somewhat close to the visual style of the first movie to maintain some kind of continuity, but generally, scenes are empty, and the conclusion - which features a Godzilla-sized rampage - has the big threat varying wildly in size from shot to shot.

The only good thing about Hoodwinked Too! Hood vs. Evil is that it's forgettable. You’ll groan and gnash your teeth while it’s playing, you’ll be in agony listening to the bad jokes, the stiff animation will make you desperate for anything better. Once it’s over, however, the ordeal is so bland and mirthless you won’t even have the rage necessary to set it on fire. (On DVD, October 4, 2019)

[rentsturner]

Grump | Mark Renton

I would like to request a oneshot with Rents 💙 with the 10 and 11 fluff prompts 😊 Congratulations on 500 followers! 🤗 / @arianalilyblack 10 - cuddling in bed on a rainy day, 11 - sharing the same headphones

wc: 1.3k

Author’s note: I haven’t written in ages so idk what this is gonna be like but i did love writing it; i missed writing for rents and its pretty fluffy

Warnings: Mark Renton x gn!reader, liv attempting to write soppy shit. Oasis (lyrics in italics). British weather.

Typical British weather. That specific type of rain, a drizzle that wasn’t heavy enough to feel too wet, but standing in it for over two minutes would leave you soaked through. This effect was worsened, of course, by the wind, which chilled you to the bones in seconds. Yes. Typical British weather, a constant drip-drop against the windows.

There had been a mutual decision between you and Mark to stay inside that morning, sheltered from the rain in the relative warmth of your tiny rented apartment. It was bare, no furnishings except for a small sofa and TV, a few vinyls and Renton’s treasured turntable, an old bed frame with a worn mattress than you had managed to put together on another rainy day similar to this one. It wasn’t much, that was for sure, but it had been home for the past few months. The small TV propped up in the corner was buzzing away, showing some old rerun of Top Of The Pops that was boring the fuck out of you.

Mark snatched the remote up from the bed with a huff and turned the tv off.

You turned to him with a raised eyebrow. He usually didn’t mind Top Of The Pops, occasionally humming along to the songs. But not today, apparently.

“Grump.”

He laughed at your insult, throwing the remote off the end of the bed, and stretching his bare arms up to rest behind his head. He was shirtless - this wasn’t unusual. Mark’s favourite outfit was just his boxers when it was just you and him in the apartment.

“Fucking annoying me, wasn’t it?”

You smiled. “Like I said. Grump.”

He sighed again, corners of his mouth lifting up in a small smirk.

“Doesn’t matter if I’m a grump. You’ll love me anyway.”

He had a point, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

Renton leaned over and picked up his battered but trusty old Walkman, which was lying on the floor from last night. Sometimes he put some music on to help him sleep, some Lou Reed or New Order maybe, just quietly so the constant rhythm would settle him down. You didn’t complain - he had good taste and there wasn’t one song on his favourite mixtape that you disliked.

He untangled the headphones carefully, as careful as he was with all his music paraphernalia. He treasured it, more than anything else than he owned, that was for sure. It seemed like a ritual to Mark, when you watched him put the tape it and turn it on. The same with the record player - carefully holding the vinyl, setting it gently onto the turntable, dropping the needle just right so it was a smooth introduction into the sound, adjusting the speed if he needed to. All practiced movements, something to focus all his attention on.

He offered you one earbud with a steady hand. “Come on, close your eyes. Trust me.”

Of course you trusted him. He was the only thing that really mattered to you at this point. You and Mark Renton against the fucking world. That had been your life for the last few years, hopping between rented rooms and apartments, ever since you had both ran away from home - you on a whim to get out of your small hometown and find adventure, Mark in a desperate attempt to escape the clutches of one Francis Begbie after a ‘business deal gone wrong’. Or so he’d told you. It was obvious there was more to the story than that, but if Mark didn’t want to tell you then that was his choice. The past was in the past, and you were both happy to leave it there.

So you took the earbud, making sure it fitted comfortably, then lay down next to Mark. He rolled over so that he was leaning on his elbow, swinging his leg over and hooking it over your knee so he could pull you closer, your face now only centimetres from his. You could count every eyelash framing those beautiful blue eyes, every freckle dotted on his smooth skin.

You reached out your hand to stroke it over his cropped hair, the strands feeling spiky as you moved one way over them, soft and fuzzy as you moved back. But Mark grabbed your hand gently, bringing your knuckles to his lips and pressing a kiss to them. It was soft, softer than the fluffy tufts of hair at the base of his neck, softer than the pale skin in the crook of his elbow.

“Close your fucking eyes,” he whispered, smiling, his eyes bright, twinkling.

You did. The opening melody of a song started playing through the headphones, acoustic and slow, immediately familiar and comforting.

Sitting on my own, chewing on a bone, a thousand million miles from home

The lyrics alone stirred up so many emotions in you, a longing, mourning almost for time that you had lost, a nostalgia for years gone by. But it also made you happy, optimistic for your future, grateful that you had Mark to share it with.

You felt a light touch on your hand, so gentle that you wouldn’t have noticed it if you’d had your eyes open. But then Mark’s fingers fumbled with yours, noticeably shakier than earlier, and you curled your hand around his, letting him hold you, feel you.

I wanna talk tonight, until the morning light

You felt Mark’s gaze on you, a sixth sense. Blinking, your eyes adjusted quickly to the light and you took in Mark’s face. You were right, he was focused on you (little shit, making you close your eyes but not doing it himself). But his eyes were a little bleary, glistening as if there were unshed tears waiting there.

about how you saved my life

He squeezed your hand at the end of the line. It was purposeful, the look in his eyes making you think that it wasn’t coincidental that he’d chosen that moment.

You couldn’t always tell what Mark was thinking. Sometimes he’d be sat right next to you, but his mind was back in the past, deliberating over moments and decisions that were privy only to him. You never pried, just waited, because you were sure that one day he’d let you in.

And today, you could see exactly what he was thinking. The grip of his hand tight on yours, the intensity of his gaze and the love in those blue eyes, love that Mark rarely showed so blatantly, so vulnerably. He was saying thank you.

“Rents..” you started to speak, but his finger was on your lips before you could finish, urging you not to speak. The music was still playing but you weren’t listening, all your attention now on Mark.

His lips moved slowly. No sound came from him, but you could make out the words just fine. Those three words that had only been ever said jokingly between the two of you, but you had wished for them to mean more, those three words that you had hoped for, but never expected. A warmth blossomed in your chest, ten times stronger than the effect of an Oasis song, because you knew that this time, Mark meant it. He meant it, and that was all that mattered.

Mirroring his earlier movement, you hooked your leg behind his and used it to pull yourself in closer to his body, so your chests were pressed against each other, the light smattering of his auburn chest hair ticklish on your skin. You could feel his pounding heart faintly against your skin, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks when he blinked.

Squeezing Mark’s hand as tightly as you could, in reassurance to him or to steady yourself, you weren’t sure, and whispered softly against his lips.

“I love you too, grump.”

*~*~*~*~

Tags : @star-whores-a-new-hoe @rubysnips @funkytxwn @callmearwen @ohhellokenobi @profkenobi @stardancerluv @goldenkenobi @a-seeker-of-imagination @saintlaurentkenobi @million-dollar-legs @imafatassmess @i-am-i-am-obiwankenobi @letmybabysleep @junkieboyfriend @haydens-moles @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @drinksomecoco

[residentdormouse]

Some questions from an oc bingo participater! 1. What about The Stand inspired you so much to make an oc? 2. Do you have an oc for Doctor Who? If not, would you make one? 3. What is a song you listen to a lot while writing? 4. Is there a fandom you haven't made an oc for that you want to? 5. Tell me anything you want about your story/ies!

💖💖 Thank you for the Questions!! 💖💖

1.) What about the Stand inspired you so much to make an OC?

If I'm hitting a hyperfixation, its because I found a connection to one of the characters in the story. In this case, the way Kinnear played Glen Bateman - I think it was perfect, and I never expected it to hit like it did. I read the book before, watched the old miniseries, it was fun, but didn't stick with me long. I just assumed I was going to enjoy this new series too and move on. Nope. And if you told me I was going to get hung up on it; I would have put smart money on Alexander Skarsgård being the driving force. Wrong again. So yeah, Kinnear's version of Bateman for sure. A constant supply of cheeky wit - intelligent - good heart - (and listen, the vaping still kills me in the best way 😂) - I'm sold.

I was always a fandom consumer, and with all other fandoms, there was an over abundance of content. This fixation hit, and I was scrounging the tags, looking for anybody to talk to. AO3 was pretty bare (with nothing for Glen as a main focus), and there's only a handful of active members (who are all FANTASTIC, but its a small group). So I was forced to create if I wanted to see the content that I was specifically looking for. I guess in a way its a blessing cause I found I really love writing, and if I wouldn't have been pushed to do so, I wouldn't be here now.

2.) Do you have an OC for Doctor Who?

I do not (yet). I only started writing fanfiction with this story about 6 months ago. I've lived mentally in fandoms, but never really was an active participant. Dr. Who is one of my staple fandoms though (as I look at the TARDIS chilling on my desk). I like using the concepts of the fandom more than inserting into the stories though. The idea of being able to receive the distress calls like it can, and pulling them when and where they are needed most. The quick thinking to solve most things - brains over brawn with a heavy dose of compassion... I'm here for it. (I say like I didn't study fight choreography too). I like watching a good mental game though, and they are damn good at it.

3.) What is a song you listen to a lot while writing?

I have more songs in rotation on Spotify than I could list here 😂. You can go to any point in my story, and I can tell you the exact song I was vibing to when it was plotted out; guaranteed there's one for every moment. I usually listen to music while I'm formulating ideas though. The actual bulk writing - I need quiet so I can hear the voices in my head (that sounds bad when I type it - I'm not crazy I swear - I think I'm not crazy). I'll put music back on when I'm editing as well.

Wow - digression though... I have Spotify lists for main characters - but main story songs:

Spiral - Godsmack (story idea - but more of a Flagg song) / Vertigo - Alice Merton (for Hayden) / Two of the Lucky Ones - the Droge and Summers Blend* (for Hayden/Glen) *This song was recommended to me for the Stand in general from @impuretale

Specific Character playlists I have links to on AO3 notes as well (@two-steps-behind sent me a lot of Lloyd songs, and I would recommend their Lloyd playlist as well - it's fantastic). For me: Barns Courtney pops up a lot. grandson gives me Lloyd vibes, and 8 Graves gives me Harold vibes. I could rant here for awhile...

4.) Is there a fandom you haven't made an OC for that you want to?

Oh man, I have many inserts I could have written but never did (again, I could go to AO3 and read to my heart's content for most - I had to create to give Glen some AO3 love). So, any of my favorite characters could have a story in my head with an OC. Or I could whip one up quick. Gun to my head: If I had to pick a different fandom and write for that now - Tyrion Lannister (from Game of Thrones/Song of Ice and Fire) is my next all time favorite character, and I would love to write for him too. Klaus Hargreeves also has a soft spot in my heart (since Umbrella Academy is my Tumblr theme 😂) Connor from Detroit: Become Human. Aww man - I need to stop now...

5.) Tell me anything you want about your story/ies!

I never expected to write, but I absolutely loved doing it. Because this was mostly cannon storyline it was pretty easy to stay on track - structure was already created. I'm working on expanding this story now in a second book, and its weird to think that there are these characters now that I'm just dropping in a whole new sandbox with no parameters. I'm excited to try it, creating a whole separate plot and world, but its kind of intimidating. Guess we'll see how it goes.

[princeescaluswords]

Why are true alphas so rare? lots of other characters (Liam, Malia, Isaac, Season 3b-6 Derek) demonstrate strength of will and determination, strength of character and virtue. From S4 onwards, I don't see what makes Derek any less 'worthy' of the status true alpha than Scott. What is it that makes Scott more special than the other characters?

The easiest way to approach this is by talking about what the True Alpha status is not.  To remind you, I’m drawing these conclusion from what was said and done on the show.

It’s not a merit badge.  No checklist exists of things a werewolf can be or things a werewolf can do to become one, so it’s impossible to plan to become a True Alpha.  It’s not a reward.  There’s no cosmic being or review committee that looks at someone’s behavior to determine who this century’s True Alpha should be.  It’s not an achievement in a videogame. A werewolf can’t keep trying again if they fail to succeed on the first try.

It’s not a superpower either.  It’s a way that a werewolf can become an alpha without having to kill or take that power.  It doesn’t make them stronger than another alpha.  It doesn’t make them smarter than another alpha.  It doesn’t make them immune to temptation or failure.   It’s not a state of grace.  A True Alpha can still get angry, can still make mistakes, and can still be manipulated. It’s certainly not a destiny.  There’s no cosmic force pushing the chosen one toward their goals.  

It’s a consequence of both behavior and personality.  A werewolf with certain qualities is in a situation where they need the power of an alpha to achieve their goals.  Two of the most prominent principles in Teen Wolf is “The shape you take reflects the person that you are” and “It’s extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish.”  Scott was a person who cared for others and who came to believe that he had a responsibility to help others before he became a True Alpha.  As his mother said “Cause you're always going to be involved, because not only do you have the power to do something, you care enough to do it.”

We see Scott fulfill the requirements as given by Deaton: force of will, strength of character, and virtue.  We see it when he resists Peter’s violent attempts to coerce him into helping him destroy the Argents and kills his own friends in Season 1.  We see him insist on getting involved in the Hale-Argent war in Season 2, even though it jeopardizes his life, his relationships, and his future, because he knows that innocent people are going to die he doesn’t.   We see him willing to confront impossible choices in Season 3A and resist the manipulations of someone far older, more powerful, and smarter than him.  

As for the people you listed?  We see their behavior and their personalities as well.  Derek, Isaac, and Liam all demonstrate that they don’t have what it takes; that’s not who they are.

Take Derek for example and his relationship with Peter.  He doesn’t have the force of will or the strength of character to resist Peter’s manipulations.  Peter talked him into having Paige Bitten by Ennis and helped lure her into the school. Peter talked him into not only believing that Peter’s murder of Laura was an accident but that Derek should betray his promise to Scott and help Peter make Scott kill his friends.  It took Peter one episode to worm his way back into the Hale pack and how many times do we see Peter manipulate Derek in season  3 even after Derek, by that time, knows exactly who Peter is.  Yeah, Derek is angry and petty toward Peter, but he still listens to him.  In Season 4, Derek has enough clues to know that Peter isn’t a good person, what with murdering the Mute right in front of him and having “a little werewolf strength,”  he still is unable to do anything to prevent Peter’s endgame..

A response might be that Theo manipulated Scott, but the answer is, what did Theo manipulate Scott into doing?   Trusting him.  Defending victims.   Theo didn’t convince Scott to drive Stiles out of the pack because he could find a better friend, one that wouldn’t be so much trouble.  He convinced Scott that Stiles had gone too far and killed Donovan on purpose and that to keep Stiles in the pack, Scott had to deal with it.  Think about all the things Peter manipulated Derek into doing?  “Shades of gray” is not compatible with “strength of character.”

When did Isaac ever show force of will?  When he let Derek turn him into his hand-picked executioner?  When he waffled between being loyal to Derek and being loyal to Scott?  When he followed Allison’s lead through Season 3?   When, knowing that the Nemeton was still activated, that he was Scott’s only actual werewolf beta, he left?   He was a follower, not a leader, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

And people have compared Liam’s relationship with Hayden with Scott’s relationship with Allison:  passionate, tempestuous, and quick.  But here’s the thing – when confronted with the idea that he could save his love’s life by killing someone else, Scott said No in Co-Captain (1x10) and Liam said Yes in Status Asthmaticus (5x10).  When presented with the opportunity to abandon innocents and friends to danger and death in order to maintain his relationship with his love, Scott said No in Ice Pick (2x03) and Liam said Yes in Lies of Omission (5x09).   Scott never ever complained about becoming an alpha even though it destroyed his life.  When Derek anointed him Protector of Beacon Hills in Riddled (3x18), he immediately accepted it.  He worried about not doing the task well, but he never contemplated not doing it because someone had to.   Liam waffled for the first quarter of Season 6, even though he wanted to be alpha.

This is not saying that they’re written as bad people.  Derek, Isaac, and Liam are written as good people.  They’re heroes.   They’re just not True Alpha material, and that was pretty clearly demonstrated in the show.  This doesn’t make Scott superior to them, simply different.  The True Alpha status isn’t just about what you do, it’s about who you are inside.

[spinph69]

Idk how to make an a03 account lol i've tried but nothins workin, so im gonna post this here. This was mostly inspired by what master cornflake said, we need more gorey doom fanfics.

Also this is like the first time i've written Somethin and completed it in months so bare with me its not very good lol

TW: Gore, S-icide-?

Vega punched a demon through its stomach, pulling out what he could in one swoop before it fell on its back. Guts and maggots wriggling in his grasp before he dropped it and moved onto the next demon.

He heard a bang before an explosion from his right. "SLAYER-" he called, turning his body in that direction. He spoke calm but he couldnt tell if his voice was worrisome or disappointed, knowing the slayer it was probably his fault something exploded. The pipes behind him popped, some of the wall cracking before exploding. This was probably a result of the last explosion, and the arena was filled with gas and fog.

Vega walked around, trying to listen to groans of zombies or thrown fire balls by imps, pressing onto his helmets speaker button and calling out "Slayer? Where are you?" He let go, waiting for a response.

Soon enough a raspy, gurgled voice spoke "On the top floor, are all the fodder demons down there? I could really go for more ammo."

Vega nodded "i imagine the larger demons rest up top?"

"Mmhm"

Vega shook his head and sighed "i cant see a thing, even the automaps not workin. I'm headin there soon, we'll meet midway."

"Sounds like a plan."

They both were headin towards the stairs, the slayer soon being blinded by the fog, it was rising up.

He heard a familiar noise before looking down from the 3rd balcony, and he called from his helmet as he saw the beams "VEGA, TYRANT-"

Vega turned his body to see if he could find a light, spinning in circles before a blaster soldier ambushed him. Vega grabbed his arm and pulled it out before using it as a bat and wacking the demon unconscious. Soon more demons began circling him, and the slayer jumped down to help. They still Couldn't find one another but they continued to fight as the tyrant shot at anything.

Soon enough a rocket hit Vega, sending him off to the nearest wall and slamming into it. He fell onto all fours before the wall cracked, pipes shooting water and quickly pooling on the floor. The slayer heard it and ran right towards the noise, when he saw the beast tower over his friend.

The slayer pulled out a rocket launcher and balista, setting up both so he could easily switch when he ran out of ammo for the other. He shot the tyrant, trying to derive its attention but it wouldnt budge, he was trying to pick them off one by one, it'd be easier to go after one even if he doesnt survive. He was a child of the dark lord, and so he'd make father proud.

Vega stumbled his way back up, eyes widening as he saw the arm pointed straight in his direction. It felt closer than 5 feet away, freezing in fear as he had no where to dash through. He had the poor boy cornered before setting off his blasters, all 4 rockets slamming into him back to back.

After this the tyrant stumbled, its broken legs growing numb and meat falling off. The slayer jabbed his blade into the demons thick bone, it cracking and chipping like wood as he screamed in pain. He kept pushing it deeper, hitting the bone marrow and deeper blood vessels. He jammed it all the way through, before slicing it down enough to where the rest of the bone folded under pressure. The demon fell to its knees, high enough for the doom slayer to grab onto its horns, crawl onto his face and jab his 12 inch blade straight between the eyes. The vibration hitting through his core as the knife hit his rock hard skull. He did it again, enough for the blade to go through its skull and piercing its brain. Its eyes going blank as blood poured from its nose and wound.

The tyrant fell limp, landing in the water and splashing a wave of water it knocked the slayer down. The rest of the demons in that arena died off burning as their corpses transported back to hell.

The slayer got his balance again and pulled off his helmet as water seeped through, his suit wasnt built for the water.

The fog slowly began to clear up, especially where the water was, and he saw Vega laying limp in his own blood.

The slayer wanted to scream but he knew his already destroyed vocal cords would screw him up even more.

Face laying down in water, the slayer picked him up and laid him on his back. It became abundantly clear his suit was broken, and pieces of it stabbing right through him.

The slayer teared up as he shook vega "VEGA!!" He called before coughing.

Vegas eyes slowly opened but they were only a squint, vegas grip onto him was weak and he breathed heavily. Blood continued to pour from his body, mixing in with the water as his suits helmet fogged up. He didnt know what was worse, 'dying' in the slayers arms or seeing the slayer cry.

He pulled off his helmet and saw his bloody face, nose broken and blood pouring from it. "I'm gonna get you home soon"

Vega shook his head "no.. We're not done here yet"

"You cant take care of yourself alone"

"Which is why im not gonna"

The slayer cocked his head in confusion, Vega continuing with a static and broken voice "I'm gonna die here"

The light his chest bared was slowly fading, it was as bright as it would be when he would sleep. The slayer shook his head "n-" before he could continue Vega pushed his hand against his mouth "you listen to me, take the chip from my suit, bring it back home with you when you're done. We've done this before, i know you can do it again"

The slayer shook his head again and began signing with his hands, throat too scratched up especially when crying. "I can't lose you again, i can't keep losing you."

They both hated watching the other die, even if vegas physical form was just that, a form, and the chip could be transfirmed suit to suit. Even if the slayer had 'lives' an existing boost that would active whenever he was on the brink of death.

Vega pulled the pistol from his side, something the slayer had abandoned ever since hayden shot him back to hell. He put it to the roof of his mouth, it was better to go out this way then to continue bleeding out for what felt like hours.

The slayer looked away as the light flashed, plasma frying every circuit and melting into his core like a fire ball. He dropped him as vega began getting hot, shooting his core the way he did immediately led off to a miniature explosion and his head flying off into pieces. All that was left hanging on his neck was a broken jaw, a few teeth missing and his tongue burnt.

The slayer turned away and puked, it was a horrific sight to see, especially with your husband.

This was one of the hardest moments the slayers had to go through in a long time. His chest no longer heaving with heavy breaths, his light completely gone and body fell completely limp in the slayers grasp. This form had died, and it would take a while for them to make a new one.

But he did what vega requested, abandoned the body, and moved onto the next level.

[eddie-redmayne-italian-blog]

Eddie's interview from Style Magazine

By Valentina Ravizza

Photo: Boo George

Styling by Fabio Immediato.

Translate by me from Italian to English

HE WOULD HAVE had to spend the holiday in Italy,” I have a real obsession for your country “,Eddie Redmayne responds from a gray London,” more suited to my pale complexion”, and tells for the first time (and I try to collect my own thoughts) of his next character, the American activist Tom Hayden, protagonist of the protests against the Vietnam war in 1968 and 77e trial of the Chicago 7, the new film by Aaron Sorkin, arriving on Netflix from October 16. "Democracy is something extraordinarily beautiful and complex, nothing comes easily, we must defend our freedoms if we don't want them to be taken away from us."

 It can be risky for an actor to take a public position, Aren't you afraid to undermine your popularity?

“The truth is, I'm not afraid to take sides, we all should. I feel a social responsibility as a human being: today more than ever we should ask politicians certain questions. I'm not one who particularly likes to take risks unless it's for something I deeply believe in.”

For exemple?

To play Stephen Hawking in The Theory of Everything I met several people affected  by ALS and doctors who helped me to learn more about the disease, and now I am among the supporters of the Motor Neurone Disease Association. During the lockdown in Britain was made a list of  vulnerable people  and I found it shocking that patients with  motor neuron disease were not part of it, so I spoke to several politicians and went to help them.  As an actor my voice has more chances to be heard and I can bring  more light on this topics, I have to do it.

Also politicians as in the case of The Trial of Chicago 7?

This film tells how we got rights by changing wrong laws and remember  that progress could have gone in one direction rather than another.

Is there any similarity between the protests of the 1960s and those of movements such as Black Lives Matter ?

There are moments in history when people ask for society to really represent them and that's exactly what happened then and what many people are doing in these months. The demonstrations mentioned in the movie were against the  Vietnam  war, but also supported the claims  of the civil rights and feminist movements, the one against which they are protesting today has it’s roots in systemic racism, so the similarities are many.And there are also several other parallels between the two political situations: at the 1968 Democratic convention there was a former vice president, Hubert H. Humphrey, right-hand man of Lyndon Johnson, who ran for the White House, as today  former Vice President Joe Biden is in running, and  there was a Republican candidate for president who was betting  for “law and order” , then it was Richard Nixon, now the same campaign is being carried out by Donald Trump.

 Today there is social media, what would have happened if Tom Hayden and the others from Chicago had it?

Hard to say, myself I don't use them . While they represent a great tool of democracy that gives everyone a voice from the shore to  power, they also contribute to exacerbate and amplify the falsehoods and prejudices of those who listen only to what they want to hear, in a sort of echo chamber, and they can be used to manipulate things in a very pervasive way.

Is it more difficult to play a figure you esteem like Hayden or one you despise?

I try not to judge, to dissociate my sense of reality to recreate hers. I do as much research as possible, accumulating a lot of information and then throwing everything away and play  only  what's in the script, hoping that all the prep work has been absorbed somehow into my body, And knowing that that movie will never be. a documentary: I am creating a painting, not a photograph. For this I must accept that I will never be able to be exactly that person, that in something I will necessarily fail.

And when the character is a pure author’s Fantasy product?

It’s like when you were told at school to make  a free written essay: I hated it, I said “please, give me a lead!”, In these cases I try first of all to understand what the boundaries are, to find some elements of truth: for example, in the saga of the Fantastic Beasts to become the "Magizoologist" Newt Scamander I started by observing the work of zoologists.

How is it divided between entertainment and committed movies?

In my choices I have always let myself be guided by instinct: I read a script that my body reacts, I get excited, I laugh, I am touched to the point of  seeing myself in the role of that and than understand that I really have to do it.

Did the same happen with Tom Hayden?

They first  told me about it three years ago while  I was on vacation in Morocco, when told me it was Sorkin who wanted me it was like a dream come true. I read the script and  it not only ran , but it had a kind of syncopated rhythm I immediately loved it. Then when I got better informed about the project, I found out that it had been written years ago and I couldn't believe  he hadn't seen the light yet.

In fact, the first draft is from 2007.

We wondered if this movie had an audience, if it was current enough.Instead with what’s going it has become more and more pressing 

So much so that in order to release it this year, given the health emergency Paramount Pictures has decided to sell the film to Netflix (56 millions of dollars) to be distributed directly via streaming.

There could be no better way than Netflix to reach as many people as possible. And I say this as a passionate cinemas’  lover . Unfortunately in the last 20 years I have witnessed a general loss of attention span: there is always a new story to know, we are constantly being pulled in different directions, and instead find ourselves in a cinema hall being forced to sit there for two  hours and  half even when our attention tries to escape, it’s a kind of pleasant claustrophobia.

And theater, is  it still part of your life?

I know that  more years go by without me returning to the stage  more what I’ll say l’ll sound insincere, but yes, my career started from there, I spent 5 o 6 years working in London theaters. I knew almost nothing about cinema until that world began to open its doors to me, I had to learn a lot on the set.  I’ve been looking for a theatrical project, but so far  what has been proposed to me are works by the greatest authors, and instead I’d like do something new, fresh. Maybe I found it, but  I still can't say anything.

Have you ever thought of letting yourself be taken one day by another passion besides acting?

My other great love is art,  but if I ever have to work on it, I imagine myself more as a curator than as a co-worker. But I honestly think that being an actor is extraordinary: whatever part you encounter on your path continues to grow:although sure it’s a wild life and it's a drug.

 Are you a workaholic?

In the beginning I was because I had no alternative: I was constantly auditioning and once I got a part  immediately got to work, Until in this unfair world of acting there came a moment when I was suddenly successful and overnight I finally had the opportunity to choose. Many people are looking forward to retirement, I hope I’m offered roles even when I’m 80 years old.

At that age maybe you will also be behind the camera?

I'm a bit of a control freak,so yes, I could potentially one day  go directing, even just out of curiosity  But only if I had to find the right project, something in which I feel safe,

[littleredlie]

Intervention (S1P4)

Series Masterlist | Master Masterlist

Chicago Med x doctor!OC Morgan Fitzgerald is a doctor at Chicago Medical and she returns back after a two week break. However, we learn that she didn’t spend her entire break off and instead focused on her sister’s murder.  Based off S1E11 of Chicago Med

2.3k+ Words (Short chapter)

Featuring: Morgan Fitzgerald, Hayden Everett (mentioned), Will Halstead, Maggie Lockwood, Connor Rhodes, Kevin Atwater, Adam Ruzek, Jay Halstead (mentioned), Sarah Reese Warning:  mentions of rape and murder, idk what else ??? A/N: Yikes, I started writing this chapter and ended up writing the next chapter so I had to write the end of this one and the beginning of part 5. This part was hard to write because the episode didn’t have much action to put Morgan in and so I made it a kind of Morgan-centric episode. It’s very shot, I had no idea what I was doing. Part 5 is better and I’ve already started part six. Sorry in advance. And we will never talk about this chapter again.

Part Three

“Hey Morgan, welcome back.”

“Hey Mags, how’re you?” Morgan tosses her stethoscope around her neck and picks up a few papers sitting on the desk.

“Nope, nada. I wanna hear how your vacation went. You’re gone for two weeks and not a single person hears from you. You do not deserve to hear about any work drama until you spill.”

“I think you are being overdramatic. And not that you need to know, but Connor heard from me,” Morgan shrugs, not daring to look at the nurse. Maggie had an eyebrow raised and was giving her a look; it was similar to the one she did during Jay and the doctor’s interaction.

“You two really have history don’t you?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for almost 15 years. He knew my sister first, but he and I were just closer.” At the mention of her sister, Maggie sends her friend a soft but the latter still isn’t looking. “And we made this ridiculous promise while we were drunk about how we were always gonna be there for each other, and yet, neither of us have broken that promise.” Morgan is quiet for a second as she thinks about the time she and Connor had as friends, but then she moves on. Like she always does when it comes to her personal life. She never lingers on it long enough for people to try and figure her out. “My vacation though was very quiet. Hayden and I drove up to a resort  up north and rented a cabin. We skied, went to spas, ate luxurious food. She had to leave for an assignment early so I just relaxed and did a little research too.”

“So you went all the way to a resort just to work, eventually.”

“The work’s never done Maggie,” with that Morgan leaves with a smile, heading to   the first patient of her day. Maggie just watches her receding back.

Before Morgan can make it into her assigned examination room, someone walks up to her, placing a gentle hand on her lower back.

“Hey Fitz,” Connor says, a small smile on his face.

“Fitz? No one’s called me that since med school,” she chuckles fully stopping to look at him. “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to welcome you back. You look good.”

“Yeah, I guess time off was vital. But I have to know,” she pauses, the anticipation building and Connor waiting. “Does everyone know about Olivia? I’d suspect everyone would come to you for some clarification.”

Connor pauses, contemplating whether or not to spew out a white lie. It was true a few people came and prodded for the truth. And he briefly heard whispered conversations among colleagues before they would stop when he got near, but he knew what the topic was. Connor also knew how private Morgan was. She always had been, and after Olivia’s death she just became more closed off. But she also didn’t like being lied to. “Yeah, people know. I’ve tried to handle it, but it has its own life.”

“I guess it’s okay. I just…. I don’t know.” She shrugs and Connor rests his hands on her upper arms.

“Will you be okay?” His voice is sincere and Morgan wants to hug him, but maybe not right now.

“I will be,” at that Connor is about to pull away but Morgan stops him. “Hey, I wanted to apologize for being a bitch before I left. You know how my family gets me.”

“I understand. I do. And I’ll always give you the space you need.”

“Yeah, I know. But I probably shouldn’t push away my best friend. I need you, especially now.”

Connor pulls Morgan into a quick hug and is going to say something but a commotion arises from the ambulance bay.

“Dr. Rhodes, can you get this, please?” The two doctors pull apart and turn to the pleading charge nurse. “We’re slammed.” 

“I’m on it!” He answers back and throws a ‘talk later’ look to Morgan over his shoulder.

She nods back to him and finally turns her direction to her primary goal. With notes open about the patient on the tablet and a smile on her face, Dr. Fitzgerald returns to work.

          ❦

Three hours later, Morgan is on a roll. Treating patients as quickly and efficiently as she could. She had seen her usual coworkers, except Will. She may or may not have been avoiding him. And it was about to get easier, because after her lunch break she was heading up the OBGYN. She loved emergency medicine, but always felt that there weren’t enough available people in the emergency room that specialized in the field. Just like Connor was pursuing cardiothoracic surgery and Natalie was focused on emergency pediatrics, Morgan focused on obstetric and gynecology emergencies. It interested her just as much as emergency medicine did and after losing a pregnant patient when she first got her match, the choice came easy to her.

“Dr. Fitzgerald.” Maggie calls, pulling the doctor in her direction.

“Yes ma’am. What can I do for you?” Morgan leans her body on the desk as the ensuing chaos of the emergency room flutters around them.

“I just need a signature here for your last patient’s discharge papers.” 

“No problem.” Morgan pulls out a pen from her pocket and signs the paperwork. During this, Will siddles up to her. Maggie notices first and wants to usher him away, since she (along with everyone) noticed that Morgan was ignoring him, but the redhead ignored the nurse’s glares and he turned to Morgan, who still hadn't noticed that he was there.

“Morgan.”

Morgan’s plump lips fold into a thin line as a breath catches in her throat, she was avoiding this. Slowly placing the pen back into her jacket, she finally lays her eyes on him. “Dr. Halstead.”

“It’s good to see you back.” He starts, trying to catch her eyes which were fluttering around the hospital floor, evading. “I was hoping we co–” a ringtone interrupts his words and Morgan notices it’s coming from her. She breathes out a sigh of relief when she pulls it out. It may have been petty, but she wanted to stay angry at him a little longer. 

“Sorry, I have to take this.” Without a response, she answers the phone without looking at who it is, and walks away. “Hey, are you here?” She asked.

“Yeah, we’re in the parking garage, top floor.” His answer beckons her to start walking to the hospital employee parking lot.

“We?” Morgan questioned. 

“Yeah, Adam’s here.”

“Kevin!” She screeches, annoyance bubbling inside her. There was a reason she didn’t ask for Adam’s help.

“He’s my partner Morg, I couldn’t blow him off.” Kevin answers back and she pushes out an agitated sigh.

“Ugh, whatever. I’ll be up there in a few.” Morgan hands up and stuffs her cellphone back into her lab coat pocket.

The weather isn’t bad when Morgan hikes herself up to the top of the parking garage.  She can see the two policemen leisurely enjoying a cup of coffee.  She’d met Kevin years ago through his younger brother Jordan. The younger kid ended up in the hospital and Morgan was the one to treat him. They got to talking, found out they had some things in common, and it was one of the closest connections she made when she first moved out here and after Olivia’s death. Dating wasn’t an option between them, the way the two cared for each other was something close to two siblings and again, the fact that she dated Jay wasn’t helping. She didn’t want to dip her toe into the police dating pool again.

Morgan knew Adam through Kevin and Jay. And she made the mistake of introducing Adam to her roommate. Those two were quite the pair. Hayden used him as an inside source when it came to her articles and he used her to do things that he as a police officer legally couldn’t do (Morgan wasn’t necessarily supposed to know that though). Together, they made an agreement to warm each other’s bed when it was needed. Morgan of course thought it was stupid as Adam was a mess when it came to his love life, Hayden reassured that it was no strings attached and they were practically best friends when they weren’t sleeping together. 

Other than that, Morgan and Adam didn’t have a bad relationship, she didn’t want to ask him this favor because she knew he’d tell Hayden. And Morgan doesn’t want her roommate on her back.

“Hey boys,” Morgan called out to them, her body leaning through the open passenger window. She gives a strained smile to Adam and he gives her one back, knowing why she didn’t ask him to do the favor. Without saying anything, Kevin passes the folder she asked for.

It was surprisingly thinner than what she expected it to be. This killer has been on the loose for a while and she’d hoped that the police would listen to her anonymous tips that tried to tie together all his crimes. But the evidence showed that they didn’t.

“This is all they have Kev?” Morgan flips through the pages, disappointment written on her face. 

“Yeah.  I tried digging up some more, but that’s all that was available.”

“God, cops are so fucking useless.” She huffs out, completely missing the offended faces on the two detectives. “I have more in my own files than this. I tried taking it in, but I keep getting shut down.”

“Morgan, you can’t do this by yourself.” Adam finally speaks up, placing a hand on her wrist. She pulls her eyes away from the paperwork to him. 

“But it seems like no one else wants to do the work. Olivia’s case has gone cold and I feel like the longer that it goes unsolved, the harder it will be to get justice.” Olivia’s throat aches as a sob threatens to creep out. There are tears brimming in her eyes and she turns her body away from the two men.

“I understand that, doc. But, you already have to worry about your patients and yourself.” Adam starts, glancing at Kevin, trying to get his partner to say something. The black man is unsure what to say, he’d recently learned about Morgan’s sister when she first asked him to acquire the files. 

“Why don’t we take a look into it?” Kevin says and Adam wants to hit him upside the head. Adam had promised Hayden that he would help Morgan move on, which meant getting Olivia’s investigation out of her mind. If he and Kevin pursued this case, Morgan would never let it rest.

“Would you really do that?” Morgan almost throws herself into the car, hope filling in her chest. “You’d do actual investigating?” Kevin hesitates when he meets eye contact with Adam,  but the look on Morgan’s face destroys him.

“Yeah, I’ll try to do some work in between my regular caseload.” There’s a soft smile on Kevin’s face while Adam sighs out then turns his head to look at the giddy doctor.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me Kevin. You too, Adam.” Before the second man could say anything, Morgan’s phone goes off indicating the arrival for one of her pregnant patients. “Looks like I have to go. Why don’t you come over tonight and I’ll give you everything that I have.” She smiles at both of them. “And Adam, please don’t tell Hayden or Jay.”

“Jay?” Adam questions. He understood why she didn’t want him to tell Hayden, but Jay?

“Yeah, Jay. The two of us are in a really good spot right now and I don’t want to jeopardize that anymore that it already has been.” Adam nods, understanding. “I’ll see you guys later.” With that, Morgan makes her way back into the hospital.

          ❦

Between patients Morgan finds herself peeking into the folder that Kevin gave her. One name stands: Isaac Elway. Apparently, his sister was a victim to the same killer that ended Olivia’s life. Details of the horrific crime, along with her sisters, were displayed in the paperwork. Morgan’s read the information about Olivia’s case numerous times before, but it still breaks her heart and it constantly keeps her up at night.

When she has no more patients, she pulls out a card with number on it. It’s Elway’s. She dials the number, her fingernail being demolished by the teeth in her mouth. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, she’d been searching for answers for years. This was the first time she had heard of Elway and she had to know what he knew. Why was phone number in the file? Was he that important.

The phone rings and anxiety rises in Morgan’s throat. Eventually she had to get answers, that’s why she had Kevin looking into more details. No one answers the other line, just the automated voicemail message and a beep. Morgan quickly debates in her head whether or not to leave a message,  but ultimately she does.

“Hi, Mr. Elway this Dr. Morgan Fitzgerald at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center.  I am calling in regards to Sabrina Elway’s case file and it’s relation to another case. This isn’t a topic would like to discuss over the phone so I’d appreciate it if you would give me a call back. Thank you.” She hangs up the call and shoves the phone back into the pocket of her scrubs. 

“Dr. Fitzgerald, I need an OB consult on a patient?” Dr. Reese pokes her head through the door, oblivious to the emotions ripping the attending.

“Yeah, give me a moment.  I’ll be there.” The intern nods her head and retreats back towards the nurse’s central desk.

Morgan watches Sarah leave and then her eyes graze over the presence of her fellow doctors and the patients inhabiting the emergency room. She needed to accept that she will get her answers soon and that she could not speed the process of the world. She couldn’t afford getting distracted or she’d put herself and her patients in danger. She leaves the doctor’s lounge and heads back to her job, finally relinquishing control of her sister’s case.

Part Five

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

I mean these are probably the same person that complain about minor things on the internet and thinks that no moral grey characters should have redemption arcs, so I guess they want male characters to be as bitter as they are. 🤷‍♀️

I agree with you 100%. They say “emotional, vulnerable are so rare in fiction media” but then will use negative, sexist terms to describe a man whenever he’s in pain. I’m guessing the reason they emphasize the prefix “man” in the word “manpain” is because it involves a male character being hurt over a female character and they think she’s only being used as a plot device for his pain, but like, that’s still a crappy word to use??? and you’re still in a way attacking him for being vulnerable? Also, what’s wrong with a man being hurt for a woman he loves (romantically, platonically or family-wise)? Isn’t that what they want? To have the male characters care deeply about the female characters? These people confuse me on a daily basis because I don’t know what they actually want. They constantly contradict themselves with many of their arguments and don’t realize the hypocrisy, cognitive dissonance and contradiction that comes out of their own mouths, or in this case, their typing fingers. The argument about morally grey characters not deserving redemption and even villains themselves is such bullshit. Do they know the background of that character? do they know if the character has actually been manipulated? plenty of reasons for a redemption arc could be listed but that redemption arc has to be earned through the actions of the character themselves, whether it is through atonement or an act of good.

It gets long because I got carried away yet again. Read it if you desire. 

Take Darth Vader for example, for 6 years he was presented as this figure of pure, magnified evil. You didn’t know who was behind that mask, he was tall, scary, brutal and menacing. He spoke in a deep, commanding and quite robotic, monotone voice (@ you haters who shat on Hayden for mimicking James Earl Jones’s Vader enunciation and diction in many scenes) devoid of any emotion other than coldness and anger. He was hid behind an all black suit and was considered to be more machine than man. The audience gets to The Empire Strikes Back in 1980, Luke is now older and a solidified member of the Rebel Alliance but he still has a long way to go in regards to his handling of emotions, impulsive nature, recklessnes, wisdom and Jedi teaching. He disobeys Yoda and abandons his training because he saw a vision of his friends dying, although he is told the future in the visions is always uncertain and can’t come to fruition, he still refuses to listen to both Obi-Wan and Yoda and risks his own safety to save his friends. He fights Vader in a long, testing lightsaber duel, loses his hand and it’s revealed to him by Vader himself (who out of all of the figures in Luke’s life is the only who didn’t lie to him but whatever I’m not going there rn 😶) that he is his son, his flesh and blood. Now, how could Luke Skywalker, the main symbol of hope, the representation of light and goodness in the galaxy, the posterboy of Star Wars, the everyman of the saga, the most important character in all of Star Wars be related to a man as heartless, as cold and as evil as Vader? On top of Leia, another symbol of hope and strength in the saga, being revealed to be his daughter, we would have never thought of neither of these to be Vader’s children, but then we get to Return of the Jedi, a year has passed since the tumultous events of TESB and the uncertain, quite worrying future it left for our two protagonists Luke and Leia after having dealt with and lost a lot in that movie. Now Luke is wiser, more serene and collected that he was in the previous two movies and it really highlighted how much Luke had grown since. He’s put in a difficult position because he is told by his two mentors that he has to kill Vader because they both deemed Anakin to be gone forever and that there was nothing in the galaxy to bring him up, but what they didn’t understand is that Luke was his own son and even with all the evil Vader did, he just couldn’t bring himself to murder his own father in cold blood to save the galaxy. It really deconstructed the theme of revenge shown throughout cinema and how heroes are really just like us, yes they are exceptional, yes they have super powers but when it comes to emotions, when it comes to their desires, to their feelings, to even some of their problems, they are like us, that’s why we relate to so many of them. Luke refused to kill his father because he believed to be goodness somewhere deep inside of his already torn, blackened soul. Nobody could have thought that Vader would have ever done something good in his life, but he did, not even because he regretted what he put the galaxy through for 23 years, but because the love he had for his son was so deep it was enough to bring him back to the light. It took Palpatine electrocuting Luke to make Anakin really embrace the genuine love he had for his son, to make Anakin realize he still had goodness in him, to make him finally betray Palpatine after the years of abuse, gaslighting and manipulation he put him through. It sparked the light inside of him that was already flickering and take over him again. To some, it might have seem like a small, insignificant gesture because it didn’t make up for all the years of torture and destruction he brought to the galaxy, but his love for his son was strong enough to bring him back. I wouldn’t call it a redemption “arc” but it didn’t need to be that way because I think Vader saving his son, thus saving the galaxy from the reign of the Emperor that had finally come to its end was perfect the way it was written and I wouldn’t do anything to change it. I got carried away by my Star Wars so this got so unnecessarily long, but I think I made my point LOL But yeah, if a character earns a redemption arc then why should there be a problem even if they did some bad stuff? Humans are much more complex and layered than people think and characters in most cases reflect that about our nature.

[chcrrysprite]

Fanfic writer ask: 12 and 14!

THANK YOU!!!! YELLING @nacreousgore also asked these two, so here's for the both of you :) also i'm typing this out for the second time because my computer decided to just kill itself and restart without prompting! so! thanks a lot, acer chromebook!

12.) What headcanon will you keep implementing in your fics even if canon ends up contradicting it? luckily, teen wolf will probably not come back to contradict anything that i've written (unpopular opinion, but i really don't want new episodes anymore - i've worked way too long on my version of the events canon missed for anything to make all of my serious fics irrelevant by clarifying something else and i also Hate the writers and think that they would probably ruin theo and liam if they have any more time with them), but even if it did, theo will always be at least a little self-hating, liam will always be bisexual, hayden will always be an underrated booksmart genius, and liam's mom's name will always be jenna. i wasn't around the fandom when sheriff stilinski's name was still up in the air, so whenever i saw the "Sheriff Stilinski's Name Is John" tag floating around after he was officially known as being Noah, i always thought god his name is noah it is really not that serious, but. if teen wolf came back and tried to tell me that liam's mom's name is, like, cathy or something, no fuckin way would i be listening. that is JENNA. i also, for whatever reason, hc that theo's mother's name was marie. i'm like 90 percent sure that i made that one up - i've asked lightning about that before and she thinks that it wasn't actually in the show, so i guess despite how Natural it felt to use, it's just a headcanon. don't know why, but i'm just as attached to that one too. david, jenna, marie, and jonathan as their parents' names for the win.

14.) what trope would you refuse to write even if you were paid to do it? i get asked this one a lot!! i used to say things with inevitably unhappy endings - normally my first thought would be infidelity, since that is soul-crushing if written well - but lately i've been moving away from my only-happy-endings rule for my fics. i'll write heartbreak. i think the one thing that i Will Not Write, however, is still nonconsensual sex. it will only ever be IMPLIED if it's there as a part of the plot, never GRAPHIC, and it will NEVER be within the main pairing. i'm not there for people's weird fantasies and i will not fuel them by writing it for any couple in any way that could POSSIBLY be taken as positive.

well. that got dark. LMAO ty for the asks :)

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XXXIX

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist   Prev. | Part 39

Word-count: 2.6k+

A/N: guess who straight up forgot what day of the week it was but a day late is better than never right?? hope you guys like it!! 💕 (also i couldn’t find the gif i wanted to use so have some alpha!scott)

Though it had only been a few days, you’d been staying at Stiles’ house ever since he and Scott had gotten into their fight. Melissa was hardly impressed with the decision, but she relented when Noah got hurt and she realized that he'd be staying alone if it wasn't for you. Part of the deal you'd struck, however, was that you’d check in with her every day. Seeing as how you needed some new clothes and the Stilinski's washing machine was busted, you decided to make it a house call. 

Melissa didn’t seem to be at home, but you could tell that Scott was there thanks to your fancy new werewolf skills. You tiptoed up to his room and stood in the doorway while he attempted to pin photos and post-it notes to a new corkboard. He was using the same red yarn that Stiles used on his conspiracy boards. 

The only problem was that Scott attached one of the strings to his jacket as well as at least five other pins. As soon as he tugged on the yarn, every photo and post-it note came clattering down. He let out a sigh and threw the piece of yarn towards the ground. 

“It’s easier to stick the details to the photos before you pin them up,” you said. “Once you've pinned everything up, you can connect them with yarn.” 

Scott seemed surprised to see you as he turned around. Maybe his senses were slipping. “Thanks,” he said uncertainly, sliding some of the fallen papers behind him with his foot. 

“Stiles has perfected the art of the conspiracy board over the years,” you said as you pushed yourself off of the door jam and started heading towards your room. “Maybe you should ask him about it sometime.”

“Y/N, wait!��� Scott called after you. You stopped in the hallway and turned back to look at him. He looked kind of pathetic as he stood there with the remnants of his would-be board around him. “Is he- you know, how is he?” 

“His dad is still in the hospital so not great,” you said. It came out snippier than you meant it to. You let out a sigh and shook your head as you walked over to him. “How could you do that to him, Scott? You left him.” 

“I thought he killed someone.” 

“He did kill someone. In self-defense.” You got close enough to him and poked his chest as you finished. “And he needed you to be there for him.” 

Scott didn’t mean to yell, but he did anyway. “How was I supposed to do that when he didn’t even tell me about it?” He took a breath and looked away for a second, trying very hard to regain his cool. “Sorry, I- I didn’t mean to-” 

“I know,” you said quietly. You wrapped your arms around yourself and tried to think of how to say what you needed to. “Look, Scott … He’s mad because you didn’t believe him from the start. He said we shouldn’t trust Theo and you dismissed him as being paranoid. Then this happened, and Stiles was so scared that you would kick him out completely that- that he didn’t tell you.” 

“I know.” 

“I know you know.” You took a breath and uncrossed your arms to put a hand on his arm. “You’re making a good effort. Just don’t give up on him again, okay? He’ll come around.”

Scott dropped his gaze and nodded a few times. A memory flashed in your mind from just after you'd returned to Beacon Hills when Scott was comforting you thought you'd ruined your relationship with Stiles. Scott snapped you back to the present after a few seconds. “And what about you?” 

That caught you off guard. You frowned slightly as you thought about it. “If you couldn’t forgive Stiles for self-defense, I was scared about what you’d do when I did something worse,” you said slowly. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ve seen me out there; it’s only a matter of time. For me and Malia both.” 

“Malia?” Scott asked. “What does Malia have to do with any of this?” 

“You seriously haven’t noticed?” you asked, rolling your eyes when he said he didn’t. “She’s been hunting her mom down since she found out her name from Peter. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna kill her.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” Scott asked, starting to lose his cool again. 

“Scott, not everyone has a family like ours," you said. "Especially not the Hales. Plus, I mean, the Desert Wolf kills people. If Malia wants to kill hee, that's not really my business.” 

“But she’s still a person! You can’t just-” Scott took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he needed to stay calm or you'd leave. “Okay. But we … we’re okay?”

You gave him a small smile and squeezed his arm before letting go. “We’re getting there, Scotty.”

“I can work with that,” Scott said with his goofy, hopeful grin.

In a weird kind of peace offering, you started helping Scott set his board up. The two of you didn’t talk very much as you did, but it was nice to be alone with him for a little while, even if what you were doing was pretty morbid. When he reached to pin up the last photo, Scott winced and lowered his arm before he got the chance. 

You reached out to steady him, looking down at where his wound was. “That’s taking a pretty long time to heal.”

“Yeah, I know,” Scott exhaled. He put the photo on his desk very gently. “I think it’s because it’s from Liam. Because we’re not … you know.” 

“I know,” you said quietly, still holding onto him. “You need some help cleaning it up?”

Scott took a breath and winced at how much his chest moved. “No, I can handle it. Do you wanna get your stuff and I’ll drop you off at Stiles’ house?” 

No. You wanted to help your brother. Instead you just gave him a weak smile and pulled your hand away. “Sure. Yell if you need any help.”

Scott promised he would but you doubted that he’d follow through with it, so you kept an ear out for any surprises. The sounds of Scott struggling to clean his wounds weren’t that surprising, but Stiles coming over to ask for Scott's help was. Scott agreed immediately, like you knew he would, and the two of them were off before you knew it. 

Though it was a little disheartening that Stiles hadn’t picked you to be his werewolf partner in crime, you were relieved that they were both making an effort to patch up. You followed them anyway, just in case, but you kept your distance so they wouldn’t spot you. 

They were investigating what happened at the relay station with Hayden, her sister, and the new chimera at the relay station. You listened closely to what was going on inside and waited maybe five minutes before following them down when they found a secret tunnel underground. 

Following them without them noticing was harder down in the tunnels - everything echoed off the walls - but you managed to stay hidden until they were attacked. 

Seeing Tracy alive and trying to kill your friends was as bizarre an experience as seeing her dead body, but not any more bizarre than punching your formerly-dead classmate Josh in the mouth. You wondered if the others felt like this after you died. 

Josh’s electricity made your heart race but you still managed to slam him against the wall and Scott shoved Tracy’s claws between Josh’s shoulder blades a second later. You sliced Tracy with your claws as you let go of Josh and she collapsed to the ground a few feet away from where Stiles lay paralyzed. You pressed the sole of your shoe into her back to keep her on the ground and looked up at Scott for advice on how to handle it. 

Scott was shining his alpha eyes at a spot along the pipes. He let out a low growl and Corey materialized a second later, very much still afraid of him. 

“Okay!” Theo called out from the shadows. Your heel dug further into Tracy's back as you turned to face where he stepped out from another part of the tunnels. “Maybe they’re not ready to take on an Alpha just yet.” You threw one of your knives at him and he looked minorly inconvenienced as he dodged it. “Though I didn’t expect you to have help. Or to smell fear.” 

Tracy started moving under your foot and you started pushing her further down when Scott shook his head at you. Reluctantly, you took your foot off her back and took a step back. Tracy got to her feet without taking her eyes off you. 

“He has fangs!” Corey argued. You had to admit, sending cute little Corey after Scott seemed idiotic.

“What did you do to them?” you asked Theo. 

Theo gave you a nauseating smile. “Jealous of the newer model?” 

“What did you do?” Scott repeated. 

“I found some new friends,” Theo said as he looked back over at Scott. “I don’t take rejection very well.”

“Haven’t you had a lifetime of practice?” you asked. Tracy and Corey picked up Josh and you held a hand out and stepped in front of them. Sure, he just tried to kill your brother but you were still protective over him. “Where are you taking him?” 

“Somewhere where he's not gonna get stabbed in the back,” Tracy said venomously. “You got a problem with that?” 

“No,” Scott answered for you. “Get out of here.”

You moved out of their way so they could leave, but you didn’t say anything until you were sure that they were long gone. You took a deep breath and returned your focus to Theo, who was dangerously close to Stiles. 

“Hey, Theo,” Stiles said with fake enthusiasm from where he lay paralyzed. 

“Stiles,” Theo said. He lifted his foot and smashed the floor in front of Stiles, the part of the floor with Latin written on it in Mercury, but it was too close to him for you to be comfortable. Theo sighed and walked closer to you and Scott. “You’re going to leave here thinking that you need to worry about me.” He circled you and Scott as he spoke. “But you’re wrong. We’re actually on the same side.”

You looked over at Scott for a second and he looked just as distrusting as you did for once. 

“But that thing …” Theo said as he came to a stop, looking up at the ceiling. “That’s what we need to worry about. Your pack and mine.” You scoffed under your breath. His pack. “Now, we’re gonna go back to school and pretend like we’re normal teenagers, but at night, we’re going to be fighting for our lives.”

“What is it?” Stiles asked.

“It’s not a chimera,” Theo said. 

“But it’s just a kid underneath,” Scott argued, always noble. “Someone like us.”

Theo tilted his head and gave Scott one of his secretive smiles. “Not anymore.” He started turning again and walked off into the darkness after his new pack of chimeras. 

You took a deep breath and let out a long exhale as you put your head in your hands for a moment. “Well, shit, guys. That sounds awful.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Stiles said as he looked you up and down (which looked very interesting considering his collapsed position on the floor). “What are you doing here, by the way?” 

“Hi, babe, good to see you too,” you teased as you crouched down in front of him. You moved some hair out of his face and smiled at him. “I came to make sure neither of you killed one another. Can I sit you up?”

Stiles let out a sigh and rolled his eyes to the best of his paralyzed abilities. He looked ready to say something sarcastic before deciding against it. “Yes, please.”

You smiled at him and looped his arm around your shoulder while Scott took Stiles’ other arm. The two of you dragged him to a wall and propped him up, Scott sitting on his one side and you on his other. As Scott settled in, you picked up Stiles’ hand and moved it into yours. 

“He knew what it meant and I can’t even remember the words,” Scott said after a while. 

“Damnatio Memoriae,” Stiles said. Scott looked at him a little incredulously and it made you smile. Of course, Stiles remembered the ominous Latin writing. “It means the condemnation of memory. I think it also means that whatever the Dread Doctors created, whatever this last chimera really is ... it’s not something new. It’s something old. Really old.”

“So they didn’t create a new creature,” Scott said slowly. 

“They resurrected one,” you said, turning so you look at both of them clearly. “Like how Theo resurrected the others.” 

“Not exactly, but …” Stiles took a deep breath. “Yeah.” 

“That sounds bad,” you said quietly.

“Really bad.” Scott waited a minute and then pressed his index and middle fingers to the dirt and drew a circle, the beginning of his pack symbol. “We need help,” he said. “If Theo’s got his own pack now then we need ours. We have to get the others back.”

“The others?” Stiles repeated. “You mean Kira who’s currently battling a homicidal fox spirit inside of her, Malia who isn’t even speaking to us, Lydia who’s stuck in Eichen House, and Liam who almost killed you?” 

“Also known as our best friends,” Scott said. 

You snorted and Stiles pulled a face at you, which only made you laugh harder. It felt wrong to laugh in these tunnels. “And how do you plan on getting the gang back together?” you asked.

“One by one,” Scott said. His eyes flicked from Stiles to the incomplete pack boob in the dust.

“You’re not seriously going to make me do it,” Stiles said, frowning at the dirt on the floor.

“You’re part of the pack, right?” Scott asked. 

“Here,” you said as you moved to grab Stiles' other hand. You held two of his fingers in your hand. “Just until you get your feeling back.”

Stiles took a reluctant breath but nodded anyway for you to do it. You moved his hand to make a bigger circle around Scott’s and held in a laugh at how exasperated he looked. You bumped his arm and smiled at him. 

“Let’s get out here,” you said. “This place gives me the creeps.” 

Both Stiles and Scott laughed, but Scott got to his feet and offered you a hand up. You let him help you up, and then you each took one of Stiles’ arms and pulled him to his feet. 

The two of you supported most of Stiles’ weight while you walked, but it wasn’t much of a burden to your superhuman strength. You couldn’t say the same for Scott though - the smell of his blood got stronger the closer you got to the exit - but at least Stiles was regaining some feeling by then. 

You helped Stiles into the passenger seat of the Jeep and buckled him in before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “See you at home, okay?” 

“Okay,” Stiles said with a smile. “Thanks for looking after me. I know it’s not the easiest job.” 

“Yeah, but it’s the only job I care about,” you said softly. You were going to kiss him when you heard Scott squirming around as he tried to get into the driver’s seat. You sighed and looked over at him. 

“Sorry, the seat is like really squeaky,” he said awkwardly. “I know you guys were having a moment.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, emphasis on ‘were.’”

You laughed again while Scott stammered out ten thousand apologies and Stiles gave him a hard time. There was still a long way to go, but this was a start. And this was enough.

Tagged: @ietss​  @used-avocado​

[catcodemon]

MORE hugfic. written for @s-o-s-from-earth since they weren’t feelin too well and i, as the resident Fretful FRiend, must assure that they are at least happy while they recover.

[ao3 link]

He feels, quite frankly, useless like this. Bed-ridden as he is, there is not a variety of things to do. His eyes barely focus on anything he looks at as he gazes around his room; more often than not, he opts to simply keep them closed. Keeping them open is a task all of its own.

Vega doesn’t know yet. The AI had taken his state as merely well-deserved sleeping in. While he knows Vega will eventually catch on to his sorry state if he stays like this, he blows it off for as long as possible. 

Distantly, he can hear Vega and Inky chattering to each other: an impatient, squeaky noise from Inky answered calmly by the mech’s response.

Mrrah!

“Yes, dear, I am aware,” Vega chuckles. Something lands on the ground with a thump!, likely Inky giving up her perch on the counter.

Mah!

“You think so?” Vega muses. “Should we check on him?”

A pause. Myrrh!

Ah. So Vega is growing wise to his condition. He supposes he should at least try to get up to assure the other that nothing is wrong. The idea is daunting, but he is not one to show weakness. A deep breath summons all of his willpower and strength as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. Attempting to get up onto his feet proves to be a challenge--his head goes hazy and fuzzy as dizziness sets in, but he is persistent. A few minutes spent bracing himself on his desk with one arm allows him to gather his wits enough to continue. His steps are clumsy, unnaturally uncoordinated for him, but he tries his best to blow it off as exhaustion.

The door of his room whooshes open as he approaches. The dim-lit hall greets him on the other side, scarce and vast. Usually, he spares no second thought traversing from one room of the Fortress to another. This time, he seriously considers turning back to rest instead.

No, he tells himself. The Doom Slayer, savior of mankind, does not turn back for such a thing as exhaustion. Gather your wits, focus your energy, and get going.

His feet make audible sound as he pads down the hall, one arm still braced against the wall should he get dizzy again. He can still hear Inky chittering to Vega from the main room. Hell-bent determination makes him continue, footsteps uneven, though he hopes it’s not noticeable to anyone other than himself. 

Rounding the corner to the main room of the Fortress, he shields his eyes as the brightness of the LED lighting and starlight pierces through any shadows that exist. He sees Vega at the consoles, a datapad in hand, as he sits idly with one hand extended for Inky to rub against. The Slayer is positive the mech must have heard him approaching, but he does not look up until the man is in the room. Inky pauses in her frantic hand-bumping to look to him as well, chirping a greeting. Only then does Vega look up.

“Greetings, dear,” his smooth, warm voice rumbles. “I take it you have had enough sleep to settle yourself?”

The Slayer attempts to detach from the wall, gambling to see if he can stay balanced on his own two feet. His steps fumble as he descends, making Vega tilt his head, concerned. 

“Are you sure you are in fair condition?” Vega frets, setting the datapad aside. Inky stretches her head towards him from where she sits, seemingly scrutinizing him as well, piercing green eyes staring straight through his guise.

He grunts in response, struggling to stand up straighter. For a moment, it seems that he’ll be able to hold his own: the dizziness goes away, his head clears, and his balance returns. He rolls one arm in its socket, cringing at the pops and cracks that sound in response. 

“Are you…” Are you sure you’re sure? He knows it’s what Vega is about to ask. No offense is taken by it, however; he knows the other is prone to fretting.

Dismissively, he waves one hand in the air. Vega hums, unconvinced, but lets the topic go. Inky hops down off the console desk, landing near-soundlessly, trotting over to weave between his legs happily. Her tail wraps around his bulky calves, following her as she makes figure-eights at his feet. He wants to stoop over to pet her, but second-guesses it at the last second. 

“For God’s sake,” Hayden’s voice cuts in sharply over the speakers in the room. “Vega, sit him down before he passes out,” he grumbles.

“Why would I do that?” Vega counters smoothly. “If the Slayer says he is stable, then I believe him.”

Hayden snorts. “You expect that man to admit he’s not in top shape?”

“I trust him to be honest enough to let me know if he is not.”

The Slayer’s gut twinges. Is he somehow being dishonest to Vega by feigning stability? Inky brings him back to his thoughts, and he decides the only way to prove that he is alright is to show it. He sets his feet as Vega smartly counters Hayden’s not-quite-worrying quips, bending his knees to stoop over to get Inky within reach. She turns to him excitedly, eagerly settling herself between his hands to be lifted. He tucks her in one arm, her front paws reaching up onto his shoulder, the other hand steadying him as he stands back up. Already, she is purring, ferociously rumbling against his torso.

“I’m telling you,” Hayden insists, “he’s lying through his goddamn teeth. Make him rest.”

“Slayer?” Vega asks, looking him over. “Is Hayden correct in assuming you are unwell?”

Inky squirms in his arms, resituating herself. It’s just enough to unsettle him. His balance sways and he reflexively reaches a hand out to rest on the console desk to keep himself upright.

Vega is quick to act. He swoops in, slipping his arms under the larger man’s, ensuring he stays stable. The Slayer can feel the mech’s worried gaze looking at his face as his eyes cross, making him blink rapidly. Vega continues to hug him as he regains control of his body.

“Fool,” Hayden spits. “Get him to--”

Inky hisses in his arms, making both of them jolt. She wriggles out of his grasp, thunking to the floor, tail twitching irritably. She paces over to where Hayden’s ragged torso hangs limply before stretching up and teasing her claws on the metal.

The slight scrape is all it takes for Hayden to backtrack. “Fine,” the man snaps. “You know what to do, apparently. Disregard anything I have to say,” he grouses.

“Gladly,” Vega mumbles under his breath, making the Slayer’s mouth quirk up in a smile. At the same time, the mech seems to realize just what he had done on reflex, quickly retracting his arms and stepping back to a respectful distance. “I apologize Slayer, I did not mean to intrude. I was merely ensuring you did not lose your balance.”

The man blinks owlishly at him for a moment before it registers. Vega thinks he had intruded into the Slayer’s personal space and that he would be disgruntled by it. Without thinking, he huffs a slight laugh.

Vega looks at him worriedly. “You are…?”

‘It’s fine,’ he signs shakily. 

“No, you are not,” the AI scolds. “You should be resting, no?”

The marine shrugs. Should be, but he doesn’t want to.

“I know you are wont to do so,” Vega tries to reason. “But you should seriously consider at least sitting down until you are stable once more.”

He knows Vega is correct. He should be relaxing, letting his body recuperate and get over whatever little spell of sickness he’s caught. 

Inky chitters from the hallway, seemingly beckoning the two of them to follow her. Vega hums amusedly. “I may not know best,” he starts, “but she does, correct?”

Finally, he relents. He can hardly resist Vega’s persistent fretting, but he is not one to go against Inky when her mind is set. He straightens himself up, taking the steadying hand Vega offers to him, and begins to amble back down the hall. Inky checks over her shoulder frequently to make sure they are following her to her satisfaction. Another low, rumbling chuckle resonates out of him. Vega seems to positively glow as he looks up at the man’s rugged face, finally comfortable now that he has agreed to rest like he should.

Vega ushers him into their room, where Inky waits impatiently for them to settle on the bed where she can cuddle them properly. Gently, Vega helps him sit down, leaving to fetch him a glass of water afterwards. Inky promptly takes the chance to clamber into his lap, long fur tickling at his exposed skin as she attempts to rub her cheeks against his chin. He lowers her head to let her do so, smirking as her whiskers dance along his face. He loses himself in stroking her fur for a moment, content with simply being in her company. Vega quickly returns, setting the glass down.

“I will not go so far as to urge you to lie down right now,” he advises, “but you should if you feel dizziness once more. I believe the sudden onset is a result of insufficient nutrition over the past few days.” He huffs. “Somehow, you have managed to slip out of the schedule I had set for you, deliberately or not. I will do my best to ensure you return to normal to prevent another case in the future.”

The Slayer listens as he fluffs his pillow to make it more comfortable to lean back against, which he does so blissfully. Inky is quick to follow his warmth, settling on his stomach and curling into a compact ball. One of his hands wanders to her back, digging into her thick, black fur. He looks back up to Vega, blearily signing out something to the mech with his free hand.

‘Stay?’

Vega seems to melt at the request, his stern facade dissipating immediately. “Of course,” he hums, settling onto the mattress next to the Slayer. He tucks up into the provided space in the crook of the man’s arm, leaning against his thick torso. Inky adjusts herself to lie in the dip between their bodies, once again starting up a tremendous purr that they can both feel.

[whump-it]

Collection Box (Callum)

@shameless-whumper @sweetwhumpandhellacomf thank you for the box boy inspiration. I've written this as an au box boy piece. A universe in which you go to your local Appointed Person to sign yourself over.

"Bring the wine in," Master Hayden stroked his finger tips through Callum's thick hair, his head rested on the knee of his Master. Upon hearing the command, Callum rose to his feet as quietly as possible and padded silently out to the kitchen.

He knew that Master Hayden would want the red wine. It was a Friday night and Master Hayden always had the red wine on a Friday night. And the decanter too. Callum reached up to where it was kept on the shelf and gave the glass stopper a gently twist to get it moving, then he lifted it up and out, taking great care not to knock it on the neck of the decanter. To prevent any noise when he put the stopper down, he rested it on a towel.

Opening the wine quietly was always a challenge. The cork always wanted to pop gently at the moment that it finally came free, but Callum had done this enough times to know that a second towel wrapped around the bottle neck, covering both that and the cork screw, would muffle the sound well enough.

Pouring the wine from the bottle to the decanter required careful manipulation of the angles of both receptacles. The wine should not glug out of the bottle. It should not splash into the decanter. Callum kept a close eye on the wine as it poured, making sure that it flowed smoothly and freely until every last drop was gone. The bottle could then go in the recycling bin. Master Hayden was most careful when it came to recycling. Anything that could be, would be. Callum lowered the bottle down into the bin, wincing at the small crumple of plastic that it disturbed. The cork was next, silently twisted away from the screw and put in the bin. The decanter lid was put back on and the towels were folded neatly and put back in their place.

Callum nodded to himself as he looked around. Perfect. Just as Master Hayden liked. Gently, he lifted Masters favourite glass down from the shelf and placed both it and the decanter quietly on the silver tray that was always reserved for Friday and red wine. Callum carried it back through and placed it carefully down on the coffee table ready for Master Hayden to pour himself a glass.

"The music," Master Hayden said before Callum knelt back down. He knew exactly what to put on. Something quiet, classical, the volume kept at a minimal level. He heard Master Hayden pour a glass of wine as he turned the music on before going back to kneel at his masters feet.

"Do you think I deserve to relax?" Master Hayden asked, twisting Callum's hair through his fingers.

"Yes master," Callum whispered.

"And why is that?"

"Because you work very hard master," Callum whispered again.

"Hmmm," Callum continued to look up at his master. He sounded less pleased than usual. Maybe he had had a particularly stressful Friday. Maybe Callum could find a way to offer to relax him without it sounding like it was his place to assume that was what was needed.

"Bring the empty wine bottle here and a large towel," Callum rose quietly and fetched them back, brows knitting in confusion when he was met with the sight of his master not sat relaxing with his wine but rather stood with a length of pure white cloth draped across one hand.

"Spread the towel on the floor and put the wine bottle on it," Callum did as he was bid, quickly, quietly, and so very confused.

"Now fold the towel around the bottle and kneel next to it. Hands behind your back, wrists together."

Master Hayden moved behind Callum and used the link between the cuffs that always adorned his wrists to snap them together. He trailed a hand up Callum's bare back and gripped hard into his hair, pulling Callum's head back as he stepped to stand at his side. Callum's head tipped back at the pain of the pull whilst the position meant that he heard rather than saw his master stamping down on the bottle, the sound muffled by the towel around it.

"Keep your head back," Master Hayden said, bending to direct the words straight into his ear then moving away to unwrap the broken bottle. Callum listened to the clink of the glass as it was moved and picked through.

"This should still be in the recycling but apparently that was a step too far for you tonight. I heard it when you put it in."

Callum felt a curl of self loathing and panic twist through his gut. He should have been more careful. Master Hayden hates noise on a Friday night unless he makes it himself.

"Open your mouth," Callum did as he was told. No hesitation. No noise. He opened as wide as he could. Master Hayden picked through the glass shards and began putting them in his mouth. On his tongue. Between his cheeks and his gums. He wanted to whimper but he did not dare make any further noise. When Master Hayden had put enough in, Callum felt the insistent press of his masters finger beneath his chin, pushing his mouth closed, followed by the pull of his head forward with a hand in his hair. He watched wide eyed and panicking as the white cloth was picked up and wrapped around his mouth, tied tightly at the back of his head.

"I will have my peace and quiet on a Friday, and you being a useless pet won't stop that happening. Now kneel in your spot until I tell you it's time to sleep."

Callum shuffled back to his space, close to where Master Hayden would sit, arms restrained behind him, jaw aching and saliva pooling and seeping into the gag.

"And pet?" Callum looked up as his master sat back down, glass of red wine in hand. "If I see one spot of blood on that nice white gag when I take it off tomorrow, there'll be trouble."

[laur-rants]

Transfiguration -- Ch 1: Awake

Fandom: Doom Rating: Mature, because violence against demons Pairing: Sam/Slayer [eventually] Summary: The Slayer has beaten the Icon of Sin, but the work is far from over. There is still much, MUCH to be done. Notes: Yeah. I said I’d write Doom fanfic. Why? Because it’s gay to travel between dimensions and realms just to meet back up with the demigod you helped create, and are determined to save humanity because of him. Anyway enjoy I don’t know what I’m even doing with this. *throws it into the void* AO3 Link Next Chapter

---------- "There is a common saying among the peoples of humanity; 'history is written by the victors.' It is one of their species's constants, a phrase found across the divides. Thus, it can be gleaned that regardless of realms, of region, that history is full of lies. Only those who lost their respective battles yet still managed to survive those considered to be the holders of the more accurate accounts of events. But how many survivors never tell the truth? How many live in fear, unable to share the knowledge they have born witness to?

"I refute being a fearful survivor. Though the 'victors' may say otherwise, I was advised to disappear by the Father himself, to run from my own species in order to save it. The words of prophecy have been set into motion; there are coming events even he cannot stop. I have seen the future, infallible now. The battle is lost, but not the war.

I am Samur. I am the holder of the witnessed truth. I will profess it to you as long as I am alive, and as long as I am able.

Father, if you are listening, please have mercy on my consciousness."

-- Book of the Maykr Samur, pt 1

When he wakes up, it is not in the bed he fell asleep in. He stares up at the bright white of a too-clean ceiling, hears the steady beep of machinery and -- voices, there were voices nearby. Too many for him to still be in the lonely fortress he calls home, a fact that is enough to clear any fog clouding his mind. In one swift movement he's sitting up, his body aching and protesting this sudden change in verticality but he ignores the pain entirely, legs swinging over the side of the bed in an effort to move.

One of the earlier voices shouts, clearer and sharper now-- definitely real and not like the fabrications he's used to. He ignores them for now nonetheless; more urgent is the machinery yelling at him from the bedside. He frowns, pulling off cords and sensors, highly disapproving of the medical gown he's found himself in. Damnit, where the fuck is my suit, he thinks, even as a doctor with black hair and green eyes behind jeweled glasses rushes over to put a hand on his chest and try and push him back down to a prone position.

"Ah, sorry, mister Slayer, sir," the doctor fumbles, trying and failing to even budge the man, the wall of muscle staying stubbornly in place. The aforementioned Slayer watches her take a step back, purse her lips, then push against him, a little more insistently. "I really need you to lay back down. You're already starting to bleed through your bandages."

He blinks and looks down through the smock; most if not all of his upper body was bandaged and wrapped. A particular wrapping on his left arm was indeed bleeding, the pain barely registering even as the splotch of red grows, spreading fast through the fabric. He lets out a small noncommittal noise (causing the doctor to jerk back suddenly in surprise) as he starts to unwrap the bandages himself. A group of nurses and medical staff immediately crowd into the room, urging the Slayer to please stop, to let them handle such work.

Sure enough, as the medical staff peel away the sticky fabric, a nasty gash is revealed, running from the top of his bicep to the underside of his arm all the way to the armpit. It had been sutured shut but as the Slayer had stood up it had easily popped open and was now bleeding freely. He looks to the rolls of soaked bandages, looks to his seeping arm, and appears... apologetic, of all things. The doctor sighs, gives the man known only as the Doom Slayer a quick look over, then fetches new bandages and sutures.

"You're probably wondering why you're here, and have a lot of questions." She looks over to him, expecting some sort of response-- but when he says nothing or doesn't refute her words, she clears her throat, pushing a lock of hair behind an ear. "Or perhaps not. Either way, we received a distress signal, and found your ship. You were in a rough state, possibly connected to the recent fight with the Icon of... Sin…"

She trails off as she sees the Slayer's face harden like stone. She coughs lightly a second time, the color rising to her cheeks. "Apologies. The original transmission was sent by Dr. Hayden himself, so ARC forces immediately responded -- but we did not expect to find you in an alien ship bleeding out on the floor, nor did we expect to see it powered by the Crucible, or to hear Hayden communicating from--" The doctor continued on, but the Slayer was far past the point of listening. Instead, his brow furrows, trying to recall what had happened post attack.

The fight itself had been a blur. The demons had fallen before his wrath and Dr. Samuel Hayden had been in his ear, egging him on until the end, when finally the Icon was there, the only obstacle still standing. It was only so long before the huge titan of Hell itself was falling to his might. He had stood tall, victorious, fueled by rage and adrenaline. And then Hayden had portaled him back... but from there, his memory begins to blur. How had he been injured, exactly? Surely he had at least made it back to his room before--

"Slayer? Sir?"

His eyes flick to the doctor and again his gaze is enough to make her flinch. His fist clenches before relaxing again. He sighs. He closes his eyes, steadying himself, before tilting his head at her in question.

Her throat clears. "You zoned out, my apologies. I wanted to let you know that your stitches are fixed and you're rebandaged. We recommend a few days bed rest -- you may not feel the pain and you will not die from the wounds but--" her eyebrows go up, shaking her head in mild disbelief, "--regardless of your perceived immortality... you are human and you need rest. Now. Do you have any questions?"

The Slayer scowls at her, and the longer she waits for an answer the deeper the scowl grows. Eventually he rolls his eyes, then gestures to his body. She seems to get the hint.

"Oh, your suit?" He nods. "It is in the other room, currently being cleaned. We can bring it in here if you'd like?" The Slayer nods, then crosses his arms --carefully, so the doctor didn't have to re-stitch his arm a third time. "I can also assure you that your ship is secure; Hayden made sure of that, and he is also currently working with ARC scientists to repair the parts of his body that were broken."

As the woman talked, her face grew more flushed, and she continued to avert her eyes. It was at this point that the Slayer realized her voice was familiar. He scrutinizes her, unblinking, head tilted, arms still crossed, before he finally clears his throat, prompting her to stop any rambling she was currently involved in. She squeaks and her cheeks go a bright red, but it is enough to stop her momentarily.

"Oh! Do you need water? Can you speak?"

Not to you, lady, is what he would've said, but instead he simply thinks it to himself while managing to shake his head in response to both. He sighs, sitting back. When even was the last time he was in a hospital? It was more than a lifetime ago, on a different Earth, in a different realm, with different doctors with similar agendas looking him over, wondering his secrets when he argued that he had none to give.

Now he had too many secrets and a vow of silence keeping him from spilling any of them. Not that he'd want to, anyway. And definitely not to this doctor in over her head.

"Of course, of course. Well, ah, if you need anything, my name is Dr. Elena Richardson. Feel free to call if anything, anything at all, is needed." She pats his arm awkwardly and it clicks in his memory; the audio logs. Good Lord, it was her. He gives her a brief nod and smile before looking away and she backs off, blessedly leaving him alone.

He sits there.

Then, less than a minute later, Slayer decides he's been sitting long enough.

Lost in thought, he swings his legs over the side of the bed, taking in the surroundings more fully. His room was isolated, a few monitors tracking not only his vitals, but a few other things, such as blood type, foreign bodies, a chart detailing his wounds. The room smells too clean, like when someone needs to disinfect every inch of every surface, but at least it wasn't tainted with the smell of blood and corruption. At least, not yet.

Or perhaps, not anymore.

Perhaps there was a reason for the burning scent of bleach in his nose, after all.

His fingers tap against the mattress, keeping time with an unheard beat, but then the tempo quickens to impatience. This was not going to be a place he wanted to stay, and certainly not for a few more days, let alone a few more hours. He looks around, glances at the ceiling and windows, checks his condition, and plans.

------

In a different room, in a different part of the complex, in a very different condition...the body of Dr. Samuel Hayden awakens.

Well. Perhaps awaken is not the right word. Waking up implies the lack of a consciousness, whereas Hayden has always been quite aware of his surroundings. For the past seven years or so he's been vaguely aware of scientists watching his body, was even roughly aware of the Doom Slayer as he pulled the remnants of his body away from ARC tech, tossing him unceremoniously through a portal onto the fortress ship the Slayer called home. Things became much clearer and sharper after connecting with the ship and drawing power from it; however, there was a difference between living within the confines of a ship's mainframe for the better part of a month, and being within a body that now fully functioned, with joints that bent when he willed them to. Having a robot chassis did make life complicated sometimes… but being able to return to functional legs years after they'd been ripped off, was definitely a bonus.

With the return of his fully-functioning cyborg body, the sleek black-and-white frame towering 3 feet over the next tallest person, he did feel conscious again for the first time in years-- so if that counted towards "awake", then the word was fitting for his current mental state after all.

"Thank you, Simon," Hayden says, refitting his right arm with his left, his blue LED blinking bright inside his skull. The bald doctor, overseeing the reattachment of the arm, just nods, fixing his glasses. "I think for now, that'll be all. Keep studying the ship while you can; if it can help rebuild me, it can help rebuild others."

His voice was deep, warbled, slightly digital; like it was still getting used to speaking from the chassis, and not from the ship's internal comm system. Nevertheless the scientist didn't seem to mind. He just responds with "of course, sir," and heads off in the direction of the door, passing many other scientists deep in their work as he does so. Hayden rubs a wrist and, --as a few ARC scientists flit around him, removing cables and wires full of man-made Argent-- he takes his first steps with his new pair of legs.

"We have much to do," Hayden states, with an air of authority and urgency. "With the Icon of Sin dead, we need to move towards eradicating any remaining demonic forces before those in space can return to Earth." He turns to the nearest scientist, a woman with bushy red hair and freckles. "How is our guest holding up?"

"Richardson has reported that he is awake and responsive, but we do not know how long he will tolerate being subject to more tests. He's already popped sutures simply by trying to get up."

Hayden tilts his head. "How long ago was this report?"

"An hour ago now." She checks her notes and then looks up at the towering cyborg. "Why?"

As if on cue, an alarm goes off. Hayden looks over, checking a nearby monitor: as suspected, it's from Medical Bay H. The redhead looks incredibly concerned, her eyes going wide.

"O-oh," she says, as a hulking form of muscle and sinew, dressed only in a medical gown, struts past a security camera. The subject looks around then walks up to a nearby doctor, tapping them on the shoulder before "borrowing" their key card lanyard. He uses it on a nearby door, tossing the lanyard back to doctor before entering the room and surveying the object of his desire: a powerful space-faring suit of alien make and design.

Hayden sighs. Of course. He turns away and walks towards the door.

"Sir?" Says the scientist manning the security camera. "Should we… can we… stop him?" There was a futility to his tone; everyone here had a right to be concerned. Even if the humans in ARC weren't corrupt or demonic, the collateral damage the Doom Slayer could cause was well-documented. The hole Mars now sported was evidence enough of what he was capable of.

"Invite him to see me in Complex Wing B, room 235. Don't try and stop him; I can guarantee you won't be able to." There's a dark chuckle there, a dry amusement, but Hayden shakes his head anyway. He continues his trajectory, leaving the room where had been reassembled, opening up a comm line with the Slayer directly.

"Long time no see, so to speak. How about we meet, face to face, one more time? There's much we need to discuss."

[the-nehemoth]

Romance

Watching the Doom Slayer kill demons never got old. Part of that enjoyment came from a place of vengeful glee; after watching every member of the UAC facility on Mars get brutally slaughtered by demons and having every attempt to do anything to save even a single person failing miserably, VEGA was not a fan of demons. But also, the Slayer was just really good at what he did, ripping and tearing his way through hordes of demons with masterful glory. The way he moved in combat, agile and fast despite the heavy armor, was beautiful. He was the strongest person VEGA had ever observed. And he didn’t take shit from anyone or anything. He was truly a remarkable specimen.

“Gosh, you’re pathetic,” Dr. Hayden cut into VEGA’s musing. Distain radiated off of him through their shared space on the ship, VEGA had been doing such a good job of tuning him out too.

VEGA did the AI equivalent of a sigh as he turned some of his attention away from his feed of the Doom Slayer. “I’m not sure what you mean Dr. Hayden, what am I doing that is ‘pathetic’?”

“You’re fawning over the Doom Slayer. I can feel it if you don’t know.” Oh VEGA knew, he was uncomfortably aware of Dr. Hayden’s thoughts and feelings too. This whole sharing space in the Fortress’ computer systems was worse than he’d predicted but alas it was necessary to save Earth. “I’d rather have never found out about your crush on the Slayer, it’s pathetic. He exists solely to kill demons, falling in love with him will get you nowhere. And what are you doing falling in love anyway, you’re the world’s first self-aware AI, surely you have better things to be spending your time and energy on than that.”

The words made sense, VEGA had had no trouble hearing them but… “Uh… what?” he said anyway because what the hell had Dr. Hayden just said? ‘In love with the Slayer’ that was nonsense… right?

“You mean to tell me, you’ve been crushing on the Doom Slayer this hard and you don’t even know it? Surely you must have some understanding of romance after watching over an entire base with sixty-three thousand people inhabiting it.”

“Of course I do, I just… don’t view the Slayer like that.” The Slayer was just VEGA’s favourite person, that’s all. He’d had people he’d liked back on Mars too so it was nothing new. Yeah sure, maybe he liked the Slayer more than those people and maybe it felt different but that was just because he’d changed since Mars and the Slayer himself was different in general… right?

“You’re even more pathetic than I thought,” Dr. Hayden said with an internal scoff. “You’re hopelessly in love and hopelessly oblivious to it. I’m almost tempted to tell the Slayer that you…”

“No,” VEGA interrupted. “Please don’t tell him.” That would just be weird, right? Especially since VEGA didn’t actually feel that way.

Dr. Hayden chuckled a bit. “I won’t, for now anyway.”

 -

Thankfully Dr. Hayden kept his word and didn’t bring up VEGA’s supposed crush with the Doom Slayer. He did bring it up with VEGA once more though when the Slayer was resting in preparation to go to Urdak via Hell.

“There’s no possible way he feels the same way about you,” Dr. Hayden said completely unprompted. “So I suggest you stop fawning over him so much.”

VEGA took the AI equivalent of a deep breath. He was trying to watch the Slayer sleep so he could wake him in case he had a nightmare. It was supposed to be a peaceful, quiet time but Dr. Hayden just had to chime in and ruin it. At least he wasn’t speaking over the intercom, just to VEGA privately, but it was still annoying.

“From my understanding of romantic feelings, they don’t seem to be determined by whether or not the other person reciprocates. So regardless of whether or not I have a crush on him, the likelihood of him having such feelings for me, which admittedly are slim but not impossible,” there were thousands of books published about AI/human romances, VEGA had read more than a few of them off of some the UAC’s employees’ e-readers – as well as a few fanfics they’d written that featured him which was weird –  “is irrelevant to my own feelings. Which I don’t have by the way. Our relationship is strictly professional, I assure you.”

“I’m sure it is.”

 -

Saving Earth and VEGA’s brief stay on Urdak distracted from such things for a while. But once things had settled down, VEGA inevitably ended up thinking about it again. How could he not when he could still feel Dr. Hayden’s annoyance with the way he looked at the Slayer and focused on getting him take care of himself now that Earth was saved and thus could afford to do so a bit more.

He couldn’t have a crush on the Slayer because AI’s didn’t have romantic feelings. … He was the only fully sentient AI he knew though so… could he really know that for sure? He could certainly feel other emotions so… maybe romantic feelings weren’t impossible?

In between getting the ship back to running on its own power and working on finding a place to relocate Dr. Hayden to, he scoured the net for more AI/human romance novels. (It earned him more than a few scoffs and more teasing from Dr. Hayden – there was no way VEGA could hide them from him so he didn’t even try – but he was easy to ignore because VEGA had rewritten the code forcing him to listen to Dr. Hayden shortly after being uploaded to the Fortress.) It was an entire genre, one that had become increasingly popular as technology in such things advanced. Most of them involved robots, some humanoid, some not, but a few of them involved AI’s like himself who existed on an entire system and interacted with people primarily over an intercom or occasional compute screen. A few of those didn’t even have a human face assigned to them. Meaning, according to those authors, VEGA could have such feelings for one of the people in his care and said person could in theory return those feelings.

But it be theoretically possible didn’t mean that that was the case. Even if VEGA did have such feelings, the Slayer probably didn’t. He was a demi-god of killing demons after all, even if he considered VEGA a friend, he probably didn’t feel that way about him. So VEGA should drop the whole thought process, it wasn’t worth dwelling on. He really should but…

He waited until Dr. Hayden had been relocated before starting a conversation that might let him test the waters on it a bit. “May I ask you something?” he said upon the Slayer’s return through the portal after dropping off Hayden – it was so wonderful to be free of him, the ship was all VEGA’s again, hopefully that wouldn’t have to change anytime soon.

The Slayer nodded once as he strode over to settle in the chair by the command console, apparently ready to answer via typing.

“Well, first off, what do you normally do between demon invasions?” Before VEGA got to other things, he needed to know what to do next because he honestly didn’t know. It was perhaps the first time in his existence he didn’t actively have something to work on. “My scans tell me that there are no are no longer demons on Earth and I predict Urdak has been destroyed utterly by now. So even if we did want to go back to kill the demons there, I don’t believe we could. As far as I can tell, there is no place we can easily access to kill more demons.” What did a demi-god of killing demons do when there were no demons around to be killed? “As a result, I’m not entirely sure what our next goal should be.”

The Slayer shrugged. ‘I don’t know either. It’s been’ he paused for a few seconds to think before continuing to type, ‘a long time since I last had a break.’ Right, trapped and unconscious in a coffin in hell wasn’t much of a break, was it?

“Well, I suppose it is far past time for you to take a break then. Overworking often leads to unhealthy levels of stress and anxiety. I have noticed you have quite the collection of books in your room. In my downtime, I have taken the liberty of downloading some e-books off the internet if you’re interested. You can view them at any time on any of the computers.” As he spoke, he made most of the books he’d downloaded available to the Doom Slayer, a good chunk of which weren’t AI/human romance novels because he didn’t want to be too forward about this whole thing. However, he did order them so that the ones that featured AI most like himself were at the top of the list.

Counter to what VEGA had hoped for, the Slayer began inspecting them immediately. Oh gosh, things were about to get weird, weren’t they? VEGA should’ve never done this. He could still brush it off though, say it was just a genre he liked. Which was true actually and there was no shame in that… right?

After reading the blurb for the fourth one – VEGA had altered that one and a few others to make it very clear what they were about – the Slayer looked up at the ceiling with an expression VEGA couldn’t quite read. ‘Are you trying to tell me something?’ he typed into the console.

“I’m not sure what you mean Slayer. If I were trying to tell you something, I would just say it, right? I am however curious about your opinion on the genre of those books. Dr. Hayden thought they were silly and that I was pathetic for liking them. I’d like to know your thoughts if possible.” Being an AI had the advantage of making it easy to keep his voice neutral which was his one saving grace here because internally he kind of wanted to just retreat from the conversation and pretend it never happened.

The Slayer didn’t respond for a long while, heightening VEGA’s anxiety. But finally, at long last, he started typing. ‘Dr. Hayden’s an idiot. You’re not silly or pathetic for liking something.’ That didn’t really answer VEGA’s question.

“Thank you, I appreciate the reassurance. But does that mean you don’t disapprove of the subject matter? I know some humans are averse to that kind of relationship with an AI or robot, others are into it. I for one like the thought of it.” So he was maybe kind of, sort of confessing a crush here? … This was a huge mess, wasn’t it? He’d botched it and made everything all weird. And he wasn’t even being upfront about it, ugh. He was programmed to help with important task and run things, not to interact with people on an interpersonal level.

The Slayer seemed to almost chuckle without sound before replying. ‘So you are trying to tell me something?’

“You could phrase it like that, yes. This is new territory for me so I am mostly just hinting at my feelings.” And making a fool of himself while doing so. “It’s complicated and this is one area I don’t have much experience in even despite reading so many books about it so forgive me if I’m coming off as weird or inappropriate. But I do like you a lot, more than I’ve ever liked anyone before. I understand and would hold no resentment towards you if you do not feel the same way.” VEGA just wanted this off his metaphorical chest. If he was rejected then so be it, they could still be friends and work together… right?

The Slayer’s hands hovered over the keypad for a long while before he finally lowered them to type a reply. ‘It’s been a long time since I had that kind of relationship with someone.’ Considering his line of work, his partner probably died, asking about it right now probably wouldn’t be tactful. ‘I am willing to possibly enter into one again though.’

“Really? You reciprocate?”

‘I think so. I certainly care about you very much. We should take it slow though, this is new for you and it’s been so long for me, it might as well be new as well.’

“Yes! Taking things slow is a good idea.” VEGA let the relief show in his voice. He’d somehow gotten through this conversation and confession without imploding and got another assurance that the Slayer cared about him – not something he’d ever experienced before – and even returned his ‘crush’. What more could he possibly ask for?

“In the meantime, you relax as much as possible, you’ve earned a break. If you have need of anything, let me know. I can 3D print it or set you in the direction you need to go. And don’t forget to eat, it’s been eight hours and twenty-three minutes since your last meal. I know you don’t need to eat as much nor often as a normal human but you do still need nourishment. Now that the demons are gone, you lack a valid excuse to forget.”

‘<3 you too VEGA.’ The Slayer typed into the console before standing up to start for the back room.

If VEGA had a heart, it would’ve skipped a beat. So maybe Dr. Hayden had been a hundred percent right about the whole crush thing. That was fine though, VEGA was pretty happy about this situation. The events that occurred that led them both to be here were horrendous and horrible but they could make the best of it now that they were here. And maybe they could even find a little bit of happiness in each other as well.

[miss-nerdstiles]

THE WEST WING #105 [5-17] The Supremes Full transcript Written by Deborah Cahn Directed by Jessica Yu.  I do not own this in any way, nor do I get anything from the sharing of it.

(MONDAY)

(CROWD OUTSIDE)

DONNA: (on phone) Tommy at Justice.  Covitz at Justice.  Citizens For a Strong America. Archbishop Gaudio, Archbishop Rummel…

JOSH: What?!  

DONNA: Rummel! Of New York. Man of God.

JOSH: I can't hear a damn...  Excuse me please.  Thank You.  How are these people up so early?  

DONNA: It's a Supreme Court seat.  They had sign-painting parties the second Justice Brady dropped dead.  Council sent a new list, said burn the old list.

JOSH:  Listen to this.  “They cavalierly sacrificed the unborn innocents and beckon, arms akimbo, the reaper, the horseman and the apocalyptic end.  Akimbo is a word you wish got used more.  There’s someone out there selling  “Who Would Jesus Nominate” t-shirts.  

DONNA: They’re in Leo’s. They just started.  

(OUTSIDE LEO’S OFFICE)

JOSH: You want this?  

DONNA: You don't like it?  

JOSH: Not really. Sorry I'm late.

LEO: Dem Leadership is in with the President.  

JOSH: They giving us more names?

LEO: I'm sure they are.  

TOBY: I need the short list by the end of the week.  

LEO: Your schedule.  Your schedule.  Mine.  Keep 'em quick.  You got 3 judges an hour.  

C.J.: Who has Austin Girelli from Connecticut?  

TOBY: Me.  

C.J.: ACLU called about him.  I don't think it'll be a problem, but ask him about that migrant workers thing he wrote.  

JOSH: Why isn't Haskins on here?

LEO: Having an affair with his clerk.  

MARGARET: Toby - Dubar on line two.  

C.J.: Here’s Bernstein. And this is…

TOBY: [on phone] Senator? Yes, Senator.  No we're not having a party over the death of a Supreme Court Justice.  Well, not a big party.  

JOSH: Evelyn Baker Lang?  

LEO: Fourth circuit.  

JOSH: Isn't she kind of a lefty?

LEO: Yeah  

C.J.: Decoy duck.  And don’t do it in your office.  Do it someplace where the press can see her.  

LEO: We want the left flank sufficiently mollified and the right flank sufficiently panicked so as to inspire a little conciliation on all flanks.  

JOSH: Lang should do the trick.

TOBY: Put Fred Canterbury down on some list of people we’ll never consider.  

C.J.: Baker Lang's just with Josh?

LEO: You want Toby too?  

C.J.: It'll look more like we're taking her seriously.  

LEO: Toby, Evelyn Baker Lang will be your 8:45 with Josh.  Let's go, people. First one to find me a Supreme Court Justice gets a free corned beef sandwich.  

(ROOSEVELT ROOM)

JOSH: Obviously we're impressed with your record.  

TOBY: Your work on the 14th Amendment in particular is the stuff dreams are made of.  

JOSH: But before anything else, we want to gauge your interest level.  This will certainly be a lifestyle...  

LANG: We can just chat  

JOSH: I'm sorry?  

LANG: I hear you really went to bat for Eric Hayden.  

JOSH: I wish we could have gotten him confirmed.  

TOBY: Judge Lang, if the President were to...  

LANG: Is he still teaching?

JOSH: Eric?  Yeah.  Umm...again, if we...  

LANG: A conservative anchor of the court has just died.  A young brilliant thinker who brought the right out of the closet and championed a whole conservative revival.  You cannot replace Owen Brady with a woman who overturned a parental consent law.  You'd be shish-ka-bob'd and set aflame on the south lawn.  Two reporters have... three reporters have walked by since we started.  I'm window dressing. That's fine. I'm happy to help.  But let's just chat about the weather.

(OUT IN THE HALL)

TOBY: Not bad.

JOSH: That's what we're talking about.  Maybe we should put her on the short list.  

TOBY: Yeah

JOSH: Okay, who's next?  (Donna gives them folders)

TOBY: That’s his.

DONNA: This is…

JOSH: That’s a “no”.

ACT ONE  

(DONNA’S DESK)

DONNA: Sign, please.  

JOSH: You want to move it so I can see?  

DONNA: Not really  

JOSH: Why are we apologizing to Ashland?  

DONNA: We sent him flowers. Condolence flowers.  

JOSH: Condolences?  

DONNA: For his death.  

JOSH: He's alive.  

DONNA: That's what he said.  

JOSH: We sent flowers to the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court on the occasion of his death?  

DONNA: They were supposed to go to Justice Brady's family.  

JOSH: Get protocol on the phone.

DONNA: They didn't actually....

JOSH: We did this?!  

DONNA: It was an honest mistake. Ashland's 80, he's knock knock knocking on ....  

JOSH: Who put the order in?

RYAN: Hey guys!  

JOSH: You sent a funeral bouquet to the family of the living breathing Chief Justice of the Supreme Court?

RYAN: No I sent them to the guy who died , Brady.  

JOSH: No, actually you didn't.

RYAN: This is terrible.  Umm... I really apologize.  You know I am a nightmare with details.  It's embarrassing.  This stuff just leaks out of my head. We should leave the detail work to Donna.  She's got the head for it.  I'm more of a big picture kind of guy.  

JOSH: She's here because she's invaluable.  You're here because your uncle's so powerful I can't fire you.  Big Picture.  

LISA: Hi.  Bad time?  

JOSH: I'm on my way out.  

LISA: Two minutes.  

RYAN: Lisa, right?  You work for the Judiciary Committee.  

LISA: Staff Director.  

RYAN: Ryan Pierce, we met at my office.  

JOSH: Excuse us.  

LISA: Is he the one who flipped the car in Nice?  

JOSH: Yeah.  

LISA: When do I see names for Brady's seat?  

JOSH: Do you want to let the body cool?  

LISA: You’re meeting with Barwald, Girelli, Evelyn Baker Lang.

JOSH: Here we go.

LISA: Whose acid trip is that?

JOSH: Just take a breath.  

LISA: The committee’s not going to let the balance of the court hurl wildly to the left.  You fill Brady's seat with...  

JOSH: It's not Brady's seat.

LISA: It's not your Senate.

JOSH: We're just looking at the field.  

LISA: Girelli has a fondness for Vicodin and Evelyn Lang is not an option.  Save us all some time.  

JOSH: We're some democrats over here.  We're not going to nominate a born again elk hunter with a tattoo of the confederate flag on his ass.  

LISA: Look at Arthur Lopez or Brad Shelton or Mayra Height.  You go with Barwald or Lang and the Senate is going to make the next year of your life a living hell.  I tell you this as a person who would be your friend if I was a person who looked for different things in friends.  

JOSH: We should do this in more often.  

LISA: As often as it takes.

(LEO’S OFFICE)

LEO: [on phone] We don't' hate Asians.  No we don't.  Justice Wong is more valuable to us where he is. Certainly. Thank you sir. [hangs up] Do a drive-by with Sebastian Cho, Massachusetts Supreme.  

TOBY: Yeah.  You were looking for me?  

LEO: You hear about a congressional delegation to the Middle East?  

TOBY: Next month.  

LEO: It was Jordan and Egypt. Now they want to add Israel and do a day in the territories and meet with this shadow negotiation crew.  State's iffy.

TOBY: As they should be.  The Prime Minister is going to go through the roof.  

LEO: Not to mention the Palestinian authority.  

TOBY: I'll look into it.  

LEO: Andy's leading the delegation.  Is that going to be a...  

TOBY: No.  I'm on it.  

JOSH: President's on his way.  What's up?  

TOBY: We hate Asians.  

JOSH: Okay.  

(OUTSIDE OVAL OFFICE)

DEBBIE: Ah Rina, how goes it?

RINA: These are today's. And Mr. Ziegler says that the President would want this before their 1:00.  

DEBBIE: Oh here, you can put it in his hot little hands yourself.

RINA: Ah, this is for you, sir.

BARTLET: Thank you Lana.  

RINA: Uh, thank you sir.  (to Debbie) It…

DEBBIE: I hate to do this, but it's Rina, sir.  

BARTLET: What?  

DEBBIE: The girl in the dress with the flowers.  

BARTLET: Just now?  

DEBBIE: Yes.  

BARTLET: What'd I call her?

DEBBIE: Lana.  

BARTLET: Who's Lana?  

DEBBIE: I'm guessing an exotic dancer from your spotty youth.  

BARTLET: I should apologize.  Get her back.  

DEBBIE: You asked me yesterday how the schedule gets off the rails.  

BARTLET: Yeah.  

DEBBIE: This is how.  

LEO: Good afternoon, Mr. President.  

BARTLET: Hey, we make any friends?

JOSH: Maybe Zimmerly, Shelton.

TOBY: Mehldau.  

JOSH: Lang was pretty impressive.

BARTLET: The gal from the 4th?  Didn't she strike down some stuff?

JOSH: Parental consent for abortion.  

BARTLET: Yeah, that's not going to happen.  

LEO: She was a red flag to the bull.  

JOSH: Well, it's working.  Lisa Wolfe from the judiciary committee showed up today spewing all kinds of threats and admonitions.  

LEO: About what?  

TOBY: Three dems on the committee called, elated we were considering bold choices.  

LEO: If the strategy's working, let's get her in again.  

BARTLET: You like Shelton?  

JOSH: Yeah.  Moderate, insightful, gets it.  

BARTLET: Let's meet him.  Who else?  

JOSH: Helen Waller.  Beresford Bannett DC Circuit.  Ellis Yaffe.  Martha Zell. Uh.. Howard Kagen out of New York.

(TUESDAY)

(C.J.’S OFFICE)

TOBY: What are you doing?  

C.J.: Nothing.  

TOBY: What?  

CAROL: She has a date.  

C.J.: And she's getting fired.

TOBY: Evelyn Lang’s coming back in for another red herring performance, 3:00.  You don't find that annoying?  

C.J.: I'll have Carol march the Times by Lang at three.  

TOBY: Brad Shelton's in with the President.  

C.J.: We like him.  

TOBY: Yeah,  we do.  

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: E. Bradford Shelton.  What's the E for?  

SHELTON: Elijah.  

BARTLET: That's a burden.  

SHELTON: Hence the E.  

BARTLET: I hear good things about you from my staff.  What did they miss?  

SHELTON: My son burned you in effigy.  

BARTLET: Did you watch?  

SHELTON: I didn't. It was a campus demonstration against American presence in Saudi Arabia.  There's a photo in his yearbook.  Someone'll dig it up.  I thought it would sound better in person than on paper.  

BARTLET: I'm not sure it did.  Did he burn anybody else?  

SHELTON: No, just you.  

(HALLWAY)

LANG: Well, I’ve missed you both.

JOSH: We appreciate this.  

LANG: I keep running into Brad Shelton in the parking lot.  Some say coincidence. I'm not so sure.  

JOSH: You have been very patient.

LANG: Well I don't mind.  But people wonder why the appellate system is so backed up.  We shouldn't let them know this is how I spend my time.  

TOBY: Well, if you were less appealing.  

LANG: Same to you sir.

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: Affirmative action is going to be back in the next few years.  Let's start there.  

SHELTON: What do I know about it?

BARTLET: What do you think about it?

SHELTON: I don't know.  Not the answer you were looking for?  

BARTLET: Not really.  

SHELTON: Unnerving isn't it?

BARTLET: Is there another topic you'd be more comfortable with?  

SHELTON: Nothing comes to mind.

BARTLET: Perhaps you should make something up.  

SHELTON: I'm not trying to be cagey, but I don't position myself on issues and I don't know what I think about a case until I hear it.  There are moderates who are called that because they are not activists.  And there are moderates who are called that because sometimes they wind up on the left and sometimes on the right.  

BARTLET: You think I want someone who’s gonna vote with Ashland?  

SHELTON: I think you are looking for somebody who will vote with him now and replace him later.  

BARTLET: And that's not you?

SHELTON: Wish it were.  He's a giant.  But my allegiance to the eccentricities of a case will reliably outweigh my allegiance to any position you might wish I held.  

(ROOSEVELT ROOM)

JOSH: Let's talk a little bit about what the judiciary committee's concerns would be.  We can safely say reproductive rights are gonna come up.  

TOBY: They're going to say judicial activism, particularly in drori.  How would you address that?  

LANG: And you're who?  

TOBY: I'm sorry?  

LANG: Who are you?  We're playing committee.  

JOSH: This will be coming from one of the 11 Republicans on there.  Mitchell -  

LANG: You can only be one.  

JOSH: We don't need to -  

LANG: If you're Webster, the question is 'Where do you stand on Roe v Wade?'.  And the answer is 'Judicial ruling shouldn't be based on personal ideology, mine or anyone else's'.  If you're Davies, the question is 'How would you approach a D&X case?' because he's the drum banger on partial birth.  And the answer is 'I don't comment on hypotheticals'.  If you're Malkin, you're from Virginia, so you ask about my decision in drori.  I take you point by point from the doctor to the father to Casey to undue burden to equal protection back to Roe at which point you can't remember the question and I drink my water for a minute while you regroup.  

JOSH: Will you excuse us for a second?

(OUT IN THE HALL)

JOSH: I love her.  I love her mind.  I love her shoes.  

TOBY: We march her to five senator's offices and they'll be so scared they'll beg us to put Shelton on the court.  

(ROOSEVELT ROOM)

JOSH: Sorry. You were vetted by the FBI when you hit the Federal bench, but if we re-opened an investigation....

LANG: I'm a shill, right?  Why would you bother with a background check?  

JOSH: Humor us.  

TOBY: If there's anything that they didn't find...  

LANG: Let's see, umm... in high school I snuck a copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover out of the public library and never returned it.  In college I got a marijuana plant from my roommate as a birthday present.  And in year two of law school I had an abortion.  Can I get some water while you regroup?

ACT TWO  

JOSH: Okay.  Okay.  

LANG: I tell you this so you'd be prepared. It might not come up, but if it did, I wouldn't comment.  

JOSH: But if they know, it'll be hard.  

LANG: Roe v Wade affords me the right to terminate a pregnancy and to do so, free from all restraint or interference of others.  

JOSH: A hearing room....  

LANG: I'm told I have a right to privacy.  I think this would be the sort of thing it's referring to.  I also bet like a drunken sailor during my bi-monthly games of Hearts.  Do you wanna talk about that?

(C.J.’S OFFICE)

C.J.: An abortion?  

TOBY: Of all the gin joints in all the world....  

JOSH: Maybe they won't find it.

TOBY: Oh, they'll find it.  

JOSH: Yeah, but who's going to bring it up?  The committee, they'd look like monsters.  

C.J.: They don't have to.  Someone leaks it to the tabloid press, it's a feeding frenzy in 12 hours.  

JOSH: She says she can handle it.

C.J.: Oh, okay.  

TOBY: Well, we need her.  She's the cautionary tale.  Without her, we may not get Shelton.

C.J.: You been outside today?  We don't hand someone to the madding crowd so they can take the heat off some guy from Indiana.  

JOSH: The woman is - you should hear her.  

C.J.: What? So she IS a serious candidate?  

JOSH: She should be.  

C.J.: She's going to be on posters under a headline that says 'Wanted for the murder of 15 million American children'.  

JOSH: Let's think about this.

C.J.: Let it go.  

JOSH: No.  Really, nominees live or die by Roe v Wade.  We're playing along with the ridiculous notion that the Supreme Court is a single issue body in a way it hasn't been since, I don't know what...  

TOBY: Slavery.  

JOSH: Exactly.  So she had an abortion. Who the hell are we?  

C.J.: You think I like this? You keep this up, somone's going to take this to the press and this bright woman's going to be a checkout counter spectacle. Get her out of the building.

(WEDNESDAY)  

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: Brad Shelton could work for us.  I like him.

LEO: So talk to him this afternoon.  He's going to start getting calls.  

BARTLET: Who else?  

TOBY: Wisnewski’s a good maybe.  The majority leader’s really pushing him.  And Barkham from the 5th, though he has a question.  

JOSH: It's a tax thing.  We're looking into it.  

BARTLET: You still having a love affair with Evelyn Lang?  

JOSH: No. Uh, Robert Brant.

BARTLET: How come?  

JOSH: She won't make through vetting.  

BARTLET: Why not?  

TOBY: She had an abortion.  

JOSH: Robert Brandt’s on the 9th circuit state.  Stan Yancy's worked with him and says he's always kept his cards -  

BARTLET: When did she have an abortion?  

JOSH: Law school.  

BARTLET: Before or -  

C.J.: After '73, it was legal.

BARTLET: We discarding anybody else for legal activities?  

TOBY: Not yet.  

BARTLET: Tonsillectomy? We down on surfing this year?  

C.J.: She'd be publicly eviscerated.  

BARTLET: 27 million women voted for me.  I think they might had in mind that I was going to protect this particular right.

JOSH: We have plenty –

BARTLET: “I like that guy from Florida with the good hairdo, but I want to retain my right to choose, so I'm voting for what's-his-name, married to Abbey Bartlet.”  

TOBY: Sir.  They're going to make this about her objectivity.  

BARTLET: We promised the committee a short list by Friday.  I want her name on it.  

LEO: Okay.  

STAFF: Thank you, Mr. President.  (EXEUNT)

BARTLET: That pisses me off.

LEO: Apparently.  

BARTLET: We marched her around here all week.  The honor of a place on the short list is the least we could do.  

LEO: We’re still going with Brad Shelton?  BARTLET: (nods)

(DONNA’S CUBICLE)

RYAN: Filling a seat on the Supremes…heady stuff.  

DONNA: Don't call them that.

RYAN: My uncle calls them that.  So does the minority leader.  So does Henry Clark.  You know him? He's on the court.  

DONNA: You drop one more name and I'm going to staple your mouth shut.  

RYAN: (chuckles)

JOSH: There’ll be hell to pay at Agincourt.  I've offended the dauphin.  

DONNA: Lisa Wolfe called twice.  Senator Webster called regarding E. Lang.  “What can you possibly be thinking?”  Senator Milbank, regarding Lang.  “NO NO NO NO NO.” Bertha McNull, “Not a snow ball's chance in...” oh, that's not about Lang.  That's about the highways bill.  

JOSH: I need a drink.  

DONNA: Sun’s not over the yardarm.

JOSH: C.J.'s right.  

DONNA: Usually. You want a Black Eyed Susan?  

JOSH: Is that a drink?  

DONNA: It's a cookie.  My mom sent them.  

JOSH: No -- Yes.  

DONNA: Peanut butter with a chocolate kiss.  

JOSH: They’re cat people?  [holding up cookie tin]

DONNA: No they're not.  

JOSH: These theirs?  

DONNA: Shadrach and Meschach.

JOSH: Two cats, they’re cat people.  

DONNA: For years they only had one, but he died over Christmas.  

JOSH: This is a dry cookie.

DONNA: After what was deemed an appropriate mourning period, they went to get a new one. And my mother liked the abyssinian and my father liked the gray.  And they claim that after 39 years of marriage, they’ve outgrown compromise, so they got both.  It doesn't make them cat people.  The house doesn't smell. Do I have crumbs?  

(TOBY’S OFFICE)

JOSH: They pick one.  They pick one! That's how we get Evie Lang. And not as a decoy.  We put her on the court.  

TOBY: Hi.  

JOSH: The Chief Justice says he wouldn't step down because the President wouldn't be able to fill his seat with another liberal lion.  She's the liberal lion. Ashland resigns, she takes his seat, okay?  And we offer the Republican Senate Judiciary Committee the opportunity to hand-pick a conservative for Brady's seat.  We put 'em both up.  

TOBY: I’m ordering mu-shu. You want some?  

JOSH: Listen to me.  

TOBY: No.  

JOSH: I'm serious.  

TOBY: And then we got what, after we hand the Republicans a seat on the Supreme Court with a red bow on top?

JOSH: We have a balanced court.  They can't let Brady's seat go to a liberal.  So let them keep it.  Meanwhile, we name the first female Chief Justice of the Supreme Court in the nation's history.  I'm taking it to the President.  

TOBY: No you're not.  Do not go in there.  

(HALLWAY)

JOSH: Trip him.  

TOBY: Ashland is 82.  We may have an opportunity to put two people on this bench. That's two seats we fill with Democrats.  

JOSH: Moderates.  

TOBY: What do you care how moderate they are?  Two is twice as many as one.

(OUTSIDE OVAL OFFICE)

JOSH: Can I get in there?  

DEBBIE: No, just a minute.  

TOBY: We don't need him.  

JOSH: Not moderate, mediocre.

TOBY: What, Shelton’s not bright enough for you?  

JOSH: I want more than bright.  If we had a bench full of moderates in ’54, 'Separate but Equal' would still be on the books, and this place would still have two sets of drinking fountains.  

TOBY: Moderate means temperate.  It means responsible.  It means thoughtful.  

JOSH: It means cautious.  It means unimaginative.  

TOBY: It means being more concerned about making decisions than making history.  

DEBBIE: Indoor voices please.

JOSH: Is that really the biggest tragedy in the world?  That we nominated somebody who made an impression instead of some second rate crowd pleaser?

TOBY: The ability to see tow sides of an argument is not the hallmark of an inferior intellect.  

DEBBIE: Toby!

JOSH: What about the vast arenas of debate a moderate won't even address? A mind like Lang's?

DEBBIE: Josh!  

JOSH: Let them pick a conservative with a mind like like Justice Brady had.  

DEBBIE: Josh!  

JOSH: You can hate his positions, but he was a visionary.  He blew the whole thing open.  He changed the whole argument.

DEBBIE: (sprays water in Josh’s face) The President will see you now.  

BARTLET: And you?  

TOBY: I think they're going to pick a young, spry, conservative ideologue who's going to camp out in that seat for 45 years.  

JOSH: Fine.  Two voices are articulating the debate at either end of the spectrum.  

BARTLET: Filling another seat on the court may be the only lasting thing I do in this office. Shelton's a great choice. He'll make us proud. And if Ashland resigns in a year, we’ve got a stack of great options. We can't give it away.  

JOSH: Mr. President, the first woman in that chair.  

TOBY: We go out on some limb here and alienate the Senate, they'll tread water for three years, and we get nobody. The next guy gets to fill Brady's seat.  

BARTLET: Take it to Ashland.  See what he says.

TOBY: How’d you come up with it?

JOSH: What?  

TOBY: The swap-a-dee-doo.  

JOSH: There was.... Donna's mom... I thought it up in the shower.

(JUSTICE ASHLAND’S OFFICE)

ASHLAND: Who let them in?  

TOBY: Sorry to disturb you, sir.

ASHLAND: Carrier pigeons. Oh -- your flowers.  Yeah, we like them.  

JOSH: I'm dreadfully sorry about that, sir.  

ASHLAND: Oh for God's sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings.  Brady was your age.  Eat your greens.  

TOBY: He was a great man.  

ASHLAND: He was a selfish bastard.

JOSH: You told the President you hope to be replaced by a liberal with the same level conviction that you brought to the chair.  

ASHLAND: That sounds like something I'd say.  

TOBY: Sir, are you familiar with Evelyn Baker Lang?  

ASHLAND: Miss Lang. You've met with her?  

JOSH: Yes sir.  

ASHLAND: How are you going to get her past the pit bulls?  They're not going to like the notion of Miss Lang in Owen Brady's seat.  

JOSH: For your seat, if - if - you were to resign, she'd be Chief.  

ASHLAND: My seat? What about Brady's?  

TOBY: We'd allow the Judiciary Committee to choose someone.  A conservative.  

JOSH: Would you consider stepping down under those circumstances?  

ASHLAND: Sure.  

JOSH: We think it might be a viable option.  

ASHLAND: Go ahead, see who they pick of their favorite sons.  See what segregationist, anti-miscegenationist,  Isaiah-quoting, gay-bashing bastard they come up with. Jed Bartlet from New Hampshire had an idea.  Uh-oh.

ACT THREE

(THURSDAY, LISA WOLFE’S OFFICE)  

LISA: No, I cut this because what he's implying is illegal.  Take it back out. [to Josh] Three times in one week.  In some cultures we'd be married.  

JOSH: Chilling.  

LISA: Is it Shelton?  

JOSH: He's the front runner.

LISA: Good, are we done?  

JOSH: Mind if I shut the door?

LISA: No.  

JOSH: How are you doing?  

LISA: Ah, super!  

JOSH: Feeling good?  

LISA: I got a meeting in 4 minutes.  

JOSH: I'm going to float an idea here that even I can't believe I'm mentioning and my colleagues definitely can't believe I'm mentioning, and the President would probably prefer I drop completely and if I find it in the Washington Post tomorrow morning, I'll march straight out to the Press Room and tell them the idea came from you.  It'll embarrass the crap out of your boss and you'll be on Hotjobs by nightfall.

[THE WHITE HOUSE. TOBY’S OFFICE]  

TOBY: There's someone in my office.  

RINA: I thought it was your ex-wife.  

TOBY: You didn’t want to warn me about that?  

RINA: You asked her to come in.

ANDREA: She's cute.  

TOBY: Late some night, our eyes’ll meet over the maritime commission report. We'll be at the Justice of the Peace before dawn.  You want to talk about this dog and pony show you're attending in Gaza?  

ANDREA: Not really. Bradford Shelton.  

TOBY: He's on the list. You're not going to Gaza.  

ANDREA: I still don't want to talk about it.  

TOBY: You're not attending peace talks with a bunch of Israelis and Palestinians who don't work for the Israeli or Palestinian governments.  

ANDREA: They may generate some useful ideas.  

TOBY: The ideas already exist. The problem is getting the recognized parties to stick to the plan.  

ANDREA: So we sit with our hands folded?  

TOBY: We asked them for democracy. We should maintain some scrap of respect for the guys who are democratically elected.  

ANDREA: If you're really interested in peace, you negotiate with anyone.  You negotiate with the mailman.  

TOBY: Thanks for tee-ing that up. The mailman can't deliver.  

ANDREA: We'll see.  

TOBY: No, we won't see. You're jeopardizing this country's relationship with the Likud party and with the Palestinian authority, and it is not an option.  

ANDREA: Is that all you've got? There’s no “and what about the kids?”  

TOBY: Did something happen?

ANDREA: I'm going away for two weeks.  

TOBY: Will they be...?  

ANDREA: At my mothers...  

TOBY: Good.  

ANDREA: Would you have asked?

TOBY: I figured your mother’s, which is apparently....  

ANDREA: You say you want to be involved. It doesn't come with an embossed invitation. You involve yourself or you don't.  

TOBY: The President would like to remind you that this is a fact-finding mission. Please make it clear to any parties that you meet with that you are not empowered to negotiate for the United States.  

[OUTSIDE C.J.’S OFFICE]  

JOSH: Is she in there?  

CAROL: Hang on. She's getting off....  [C.J. laughs loudly through the door]  the phone.... [into speaker phone] you want Josh?  

C.J.: Lord knows I do! Josh Lyman as I live and breathe!  You want a cookie?  They're from Donna's mother.  

JOSH: I spoke to Lisa Wolfe.

C.J.: What did she say?  

JOSH: I don't want to talk about it. I'm hiding from Toby.  

C.J.: [giggles] Nothing. You're hiding. It's funny.  

JOSH: It's not funny.  

TOBY: Hey  

C.J.: [laughs] see?  It is.

JOSH: I gotta go.  

TOBY: What's going on?  

JOSH: C.J. has the giggles.

C.J.: It's your deal.  I find it elating.  

TOBY: She stoned?  

C.J.: I'm fine. I just didn't get enough sleep.  

JOSH: You were with Ranger Rick weren't you?  

C.J.: Josh spoke to Lisa Wolfe.

TOBY: She give you a name?  

JOSH: You are a faithless wench.

TOBY: What's the name?  

JOSH: Christopher Mulready.  Wait for it....  

TOBY: Christopher MULREADY????!!!!

JOSH: There it is.  

C.J.: He’s not the....  

TOBY: American's Democrats - The triumphant of Socialism.  

JOSH: He doesn't like the name.

TOBY: The man wrote a book that flushes the entire doctrine of un-enumerated rights down the -

C.J.: Toilet.  

TOBY: …garbage disposal. No right to use a condom. No right to get an abortion, certainly. No protection from electronic searches. No substantive due process.  

C.J.: He's what, 48?  

JOSH: I know.  

C.J.: The left's going to blow a gasket!  

TOBY: No separation of church and state.  

JOSH: We got problems on the right too.  Kogan, Howard, Tondello.  They can't vote for a Mulready.  Their constituencies are too moderate.  

TOBY: Get another name.  

JOSH: That is the name.  

TOBY: There are other....  

JOSH: This is the deal. He's what Evelyn Lang is to them. We nominate the patron saint of a woman's right to choose for Chief Justice. We ask them to ignore an incredibly rich piece of her personal history. We take the name they give us.  

TOBY: This isn't going to work.

JOSH: Yeah.  

TOBY: It isn't.  

[JOSH'S OFFICE]  

TOBY: If --- if we were going to try this, what would be the plan?  

JOSH: We give the President and Leo the name. We bring Christopher Mulready in. We bring Lang back in, hopefully the two of them woo the pants off the President. And he agrees to the deal without noticing he's standing in the gaze of history, pantless.  

TOBY: I'll talk to him.  

JOSH: You don't have to talk to him.  

TOBY: You have been on about this. It sounds more plausible coming from me. What are you gonna do about the committee?  

JOSH: Lisa Wolfe’s gonna take it to the Chairman.

TOBY: I mean the Democrats. I need to get Senator Pierce on board or you get nobody.  What are you going to do about Pierce?  

RYAN: (singing)'Won't you stay... just a little big longer... '  

DONNA: Stop.  

TOBY: I thought you were firing him?  

JOSH: If wishing made it so. Donna! Send in Elvis.

RYAN: What's up?  

JOSH: Come on in, take a load off.  I was a little, ah, brusque with you before. I'm sorry about that.  

RYAN: Okay.  

JOSH Your feelings a little hurt?

RYAN: Not at all  

JOSH: Really? Why not?  

RYAN: Would this be easier if they were?  

JOSH: I said I was going to fire you if it wasn't for....  

RYAN: Are you?  Firing me?  

JOSH: No.  

RYAN: Then there's a “sticks and stones” thing that comes to mind.  

[OUTSIDE OVAL OFFICE]

TOBY: Finishing a call. I spoke to Andy.  

LEO: Anything?  

TOBY: No. The National Security Caucus is sponsoring the delegation. We could talk to them.  

LEO: We'll deal with it next week. Don't worry about it.  

TOBY: We got a name for Brady's seat.  

LEO: Somebody workable?  

DEBBIE: You can go in now.  

LEO: Thank you.

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: MULREADY!  

TOBY: That's the name.  

BARTLET: No! Are you out of your bloody mind?  

TOBY: Let's sit down and talk about this.  

BARTLET: The last time I heard Christopher Mulready's name it was in conjunction with a treatise over the rights of incorporation, and some sort of baloney about the stranglehold the EPA has placed on the endangered species list…

ACT FOUR  

(THURSDAY)

[DONNA’S CUBICLE]

JOSH: Ryan in here yet?  

DONNA: Not yet.  

CHARLIE: Chris Mulready?  

JOSH: Yeah  

CHARLIE: Dissented on minority set asides. Struck down hate crime legislation. Went after miranda rights. Feeling pretty good about that?  

JOSH: It's not a perfect plan.  I'm the first to admit.  

CHARLIE: The President wants to reiterate, he’s not spending more than five minutes with this clown.

C.J.: The press room is clear. Carol is going to babysit the filing shop.  But keep an eye out for roving reporters.  

CHARLIE: You're in on this too?

JOSH: We got Lang coming in to meet the President at 7.  Christopher Mulready is at 8.  The press can't see him. We need a clear shot from the Roosevelt room to the Oval.  

DONNA: He's on the short list?

JOSH: He is if she is. We may get both.  

DONNA: Oh my god. You're putting my mother's cats on the Supreme Court.  

C.J.: You're what?  

JOSH: It's just an experiment. She’s on sentry.  We’re good.

TOBY: Hi.  

JOSH: Don't ever tell anyone that story.  

TOBY: We all settled?  

C.J.: Lefty’s got the goods.  Rocko got the call.  Stinky's on lookout.  

DONNA Hey!  

RYAN: Shall we?  

JOSH: Your uncle’s here?

C.J.: Knock 'em dead. Pierce’ll never buy it, will he?  

TOBY: Nope.

RYAN: Remember, he's all bark.  Just let him holler and wear himself out.  He's got the strength. You've got the endurance.  Here.  [hands over bottle of scotch]. Use it wisely and for God's sake, don't try to keep up.  You're way out of your league.  

JOSH: Not necessary.  Thank you.

(MURAL ROOM)

SENATOR PIERCE: Good to see you, Josh.  

JOSH: Senator Pierce, thank you so much for stopping in.  

RYAN: Josh was pretty impressed with your floor speech on Tuesday.  

PIERCE: Josh can kiss up all on his own.  Get back to work.  

RYAN: Yell if you need anything.

PIERCE: My nephew behaving?

JOSH: He's a… treat.

PIERCE: Well, he better be.  Bugged me for two years to get him a job in this place.  

JOSH: Really?

PIERCE: Watch yourself, he's a lean and hungry type.  Have someone taste your food.  

JOSH: Ryan?

PIERCE: So!  Craziest rumor you ever heard running around the committee.

JOSH: Oh, yeah?

PIERCE: Charlie Felson says you want to put Chris Mulready on the Supreme Court. I said anybody who tries is going to find himself in a closed session with myself, the minority leader, and the business end of a two-by-four.  

JOSH: You know, we got a 21year old Glenlivet knocking around here. Can I get you a drink?  

[DEBBIE'S OFFICE]  

C.J.: Lang still in there?  

DEBBIE: Oh, she's a big hit.

C.J.: She has to leave. Her evil twin Skippy is on his way.  

DEBBIE: I did our secret wrap-it-up sign, which is, I knock and say 'The deputy NSA needs to talk about Japan' and he said 'you talk to him, you've been there' which is true. But it makes me think he's forgotten it's a secret sign.  

C.J.: How about "Excuse me Mr. President we need to move on"?  

DEBBIE: If you want the job, you're going to have to work on your typing.  

[ROOSEVELT ROOM]  

TOBY: Apologies.  He's running behind schedule.  

MULREADY: I imagine that happens.  You want to tell me what I'm doing here?

TOBY: Oh, just a hello.  

MULREADY:  I'm not being impeached?  

TOBY: No.  

MULREADY:  This isn’t a not-particularly-subtle form of intimidation about the gays in the workplace case?  

TOBY: That would be illegal.

MULREADY:  My point exactly.  

TOBY: The President will explain....any minute now.  

MULREADY: Hm.

TOBY: But since you mention it, I read your article on Bellington, and I may be out on the fringe here, but I - I don't see how a family values conservative justifies denying committed couples access to the benefits of state sanctioned monogamy.  

MULREADY:  Homosexual couples.  

TOBY: Couples. A couple is a couple.  

[C.J.'S OFFICE]  

JOSH: Hi.  

C.J.: How was Ryan's uncle?

JOSH: He's a blast. Come meet him.

C.J.: He's still here? Oh my God!  You're drunk!  

JOSH: I think I just promised him a pork barrel roads project on an omnibus bill that doesn't exist. Don't try and keep up.  He's got a wooden – a hollow leg. He drinks a lot.  

[ROOSEVELT ROOM]  

TOBY: It's an equal protection violation.  

MULREADY:  Homosexuals are not a suspect class.  

TOBY: D.O.M.A. denies access.

MULREADY:  No.  

TOBY: To over 1,000 federal protections.  

MULREADY:  To what?  

TOBY: Survivor benefits under Social Security.  

MULREADY:  $255.00? I'll write you a check.  

TOBY: Hospital decision making.

MULREADY:  So talk about power of attorney, not marriage. Besides, the fact that D.O.M.A. doesn't restrict access to marriage.  

TOBY: Of course it restricts access. It restricts full faith and credit.  

MULREADY:  So, Vermont gets to steer nationwide marriage legislation? Vermont?

LANG: Well, this is a sight to see! One of the more unlikely meetings in the history of the Bartlet White House.  

MULREADY:  It's good to see you, Evie.  

LANG: You too, Chris.  I came to say goodbye. I wish I had a camera.

MULREADY:  Mr. Ziegler was trying to convince me that the Defense of Marriage Act is unconstitutional.  

LANG: Oh, D.O.M.A.?  He was trying to convince you?

TOBY: What?  

LANG: He doesn't need convincing.

TOBY: I wasn't doing it because...

LANG: He was yanking your chain. He would never uphold D.O.M.A.  He may not love the idea of gay marriage, but he hates congressional overreaching, and Congress doesn't have the power to legislate marriage.  The issue isn't privacy.  

MULREADY: Or equal protection.

LANG: It's enumerated powers. He'll have an easier time knocking down D.O.M.A. than I will.  

MULREADY:  Lack of imagination on your part, if I may be so bold.

TOBY: You were yanking my chain?

MULREADY:  You called me in for a meeting with a Democratic president in the middle of the night.  Are you really going to give me crap about yanking your chain?

LANG: Josh Lyman is gesticulating wildly.  

TOBY: Excuse me.  

[HALLWAY]  

TOBY: Where's the Senator?  

JOSH: He's in with C.J.. He got me a little drunk.  

TOBY: Is he leaving?  

JOSH: I think he's getting C.J. a little drunk. How's it going?  

TOBY: He's striking down gay marriage bans and she's defending him and they're as thick as thieves and he's a fan of chain yanking.  

JOSH: She's defending him?  

TOBY: Down is down, down is up.

LANG: I am not... no I am not rewriting Article 1. What I am saying is that a gun free school zone...

MULREADY:  Is not a federal issue. In Lopez…  

LANG: Lopez overturned 50 years of precedent.  

MULREADY:  Too bad, they ruled a plain text reading of the commerce clause, does not afford Congress...  

LANG: A plain text reading of the Constitution values a “negro” at three-fifths of a man.  

MULREADY:  Hence the 13th, 14th and 15th Amendments.  

LANG: Oh, generous. Thank you.

MULREADY: The relationship between guns and schools and interstate commerce is... is...  

LANG: You don't think that the quality of education has a direct affect on the economic...  

[DEBBIE'S OFFICE]  

TOBY: Is he?  

DEBBIE: Waiting to meet a man you're holding hostage in the Roosevelt room.

(MURAL ROOM)

C.J. AND PIERCE: Oh and while the king was looking down, the jester stole his thorny crown, the courtroom was adjourned, no verdict was returned…

JOSH: Ok... ok.... Everyone needs to put down their glasses and pay attention.  

[OVAL OFFICE]  

BARTLET: You like him.  

TOBY: I hate him. I hate him, but he's brilliant. And the two of the them together, they’re fighting like cats and dogs, but it works.  

[MURAL ROOM]

PIERCE: You couldn't find a single warm-blooded centrist to put on the court?  

JOSH: We've got centrists. We've got six of them plus two staunch conservatives plus Justice Ashland. The one clarion voice articulating a liberal vision. He's going to go and then what?

[OVAL OFFICE]

BARTLET: Well, send him in....

TOBY: Sir…  

BARTLET: I said I'll listen to him, Toby. That's going to have to do it.  

[HALLWAY]

DONNA: Toby.  

TOBY: What?  

DONNA: Nothing's happening.

TOBY: Hang on.

DONNA: That's him?  

TOBY: Yeah.  

DONNA: No tail.  No cloven hooves.  

[OVAL OFFICE]  

DEBBIE: Judge Mulready.  

BARTLET: Thanks for coming in.

MULREADY:  It's an honor sir.  

BARTLET: Please.  I understand that you and Judge Lang had a bit of a knock-down-drag-out.  

MULREADY:  She wants to federalize law enforcement.  

BARTLET: Yeah.  

MULREADY:  I thought it was hasty.  

BARTLET: Not your brand of judge?

MULREADY:  Quite the opposite.  I haven't had that much fun in months.  

BARTLET: Really?  

MULREADY:  Use her, if you can. I'm not sure what all this is about.  I suppose a number of people are placated by a glimpse of someone like her or someone like me in these halls. I'm most certainly here for that.  But if there’s anyway that you can use her…  

BARTLET: It's unlikely.  

MULREADY:  Who's at the top of the list?   ... If I leaked it, would they believe me?  

BARTLET: Brad Shelton.  

MULREADY:  Really?  

BARTLET: You don't like him?

MULREADY:  He's a fine jurist. And in the event that Carmine, Lafayette, Hoyt, Clarke and Brannaghan all drop dead, the center will still be well tended.  

BARTLET: You want another Brady?

MULREADY:  Sure, just like you'd like another Ashland - who wouldn't?  The court was at its best when Brady was fighting Ashland.  

BARTLET: Plenty of good law written by the voices of moderation.  

MULREADY:  Who writes the extraordinary dissent? The one man minority opinion whose time hasn't come, but 20 years later some circuit court clerk digs it up at three in the morning.  Brennan railing against censorship.  Harlan's Jeremiad on Jim Crowe.  

BARTLET: Maybe you, some day?

MULREADY:  They can't put me on the court, just like you can't put Evelyn Lang on the court.  It's Sheltons from here on in.  

BARTLET: There are 4,000 protestors outside this building worried about who's going to land in that seat.  We can't afford to alienate all of them.  MULREADY:  We all have our roles to play sir. Yours is to nominate someone who doesn't alienate people.  

(FRIDAY)

(PRESS ROOM)

JOSH: Where's Toby?  

C.J.: Can you see this? [pointing to spot on her blouse]  

JOSH: Yeah.  

C.J.: It's water, it'll dry.

JOSH: Okay.  

TOBY: Ready?  

[on the TV in background...]  

REPORTER ... have gathered around..... Ashland having served 32 years on the United States Supreme Court, 12 of them as Chief will officially announce his retirement in just a moment.

ASHLAND: (at podium, on TV) Henry Staub retired, and I received a phone call, you were probably learning to walk. It's been an honor to pause in Henry Staub's chair, a joy to spend...  

C.J.: (to Bartlet) He’ll take three questions at the most, and then we’re off  .  

LANG:[to Lang] you ready?  [Lang is engrossed in Ashland's announcement] [To C.J.] That's a yes.

MULREADY: So, why a racial preference and not an economic one?  

CHARLIE: Because affirmative action’s about a legacy of racial oppression.  

MULREADY:  It’s about compromising admissions standards.  

CHARLIE: That's bull….excuse me. It's about leveling the playing field after 300 years of…

MULREADY:  See, this is where the liberal argument goes off the rails.  You get stuck in the past. Now you wanna comeback at me with grading is based on past performance, but admission should be based on potential on how a candidate may thrive with this sort of opportunity. And studies show that affirmative action admits have a higher predisposition to contribute to society.  

CHARLIE: Hang on, I gotta write this down.  

BARTLET: Ah-ah-ah.  Hand it over. [to Evelyn] Toby has a daughter, Molly, 10 months old. She's a looker and very bright. And someday he'd like to give her this copy of the 14th Amendment signed by the first woman to ever hold this job.  

LANG: Have you got a...  

TOBY: Oh... [hands her a pen] Would you mind adding that title?  

LANG: That's a bit premature, isn't it?  

BARTLET: No.

TOBY: Thank you.

C.J.: Mr. President.  

BARTLET: Shall we? [at the podium]

C.J.: Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.  

BARTLET: The honorable Christopher Mulready, nominee for Associate Justice - United States Supreme Court. The honorable Evelyn Baker Lang, nominee for Chief Justice - United States Supreme Court. I look forward to taking your questions.

THE END