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haus-seeblick · 3 years ago

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Suptober Day 2: No Vacancy

Title: Backroad Romance

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,119

Tags: First Kiss, Dean Winchester and Castiel are Alone in the Dark, Mild Angst With a Happy Ending, Sam Ships It, Making out in the Impala

On AO3 Here

“You’re shittin’ me, Sammy.” Dean groans and smacks the steering wheel with his palm. “There’s no room in the whole place?”

Sam’s voice floats into the Impala, high and tinny over the burner phone’s speakers. “No vacancy, Dean, I’m sorry, I checked with them three times--”

“--Nah, nah, it’s cool, we believe you,” Dean interrupts, cradling the phone between shoulder and ear so he can rub his face while steering around a bend. Cas reaches over and deftly slips the phone away, fingers pinched like he’s removing a block from a Jenga tower.

“Did you and Eileen find accommodations?” Cas asks, holding the phone out in front of him so Dean can listen in.

There’s a short pause, then: “Yeah… yeah, we did, but guys, the room is really small, like, a closet, I swear, and there’s only one bed, and--”

This time it’s Cas who interrupts. “--and you wish to engage in private romantic activities. Dean and I completely understand.”

They’re on a straight stretch of highway, but Dean still manages to swerve clumsily into the shoulder. He hastily course-corrects and bites down the urge to snap at Cas for-- for what? For talking like that? For using his deep, rough voice to say any words even vaguely related to--

No. It’s not Cas’ fault that everything he does steadily turns Dean into more and more of a creep. Dean shakes his head firmly and tunes back in to the conversation just in time to catch Sam awkwardly stumbling over his reply. Dean leans over, cutting him off with a whistle into the phone.

“We’ll be fine, little brother. Be a gentleman. Don’t hog the sheets. Girl like Eileen doesn’t come around every day.”

He can feel the bitchface radiating through the speaker and motions at Cas to hang up. Cas frowns and gravely says “Dean would like to end the conversation. Goodbye, Sam,” before flipping the phone shut. He drops it into the cupholder.

Dean makes a show of focusing on the road to avoid looking at Cas. He knows Cas is staring at him; it’s just something the guy does, sitting in the passenger seat and gazing at Dean as if the whole world isn’t flashing by outside.

Dean’s long stopped commenting on it. Let the dude stare.

He clears his throat. “We’ll probably have to find a logging road or something. Pull in and hole up for the night.”

“All right,” Cas replies. He opens the glovebox and pulls out the local map they picked up this afternoon when they rolled into Matlock, Washington, to investigate a haunted post office. It was a gray, dinky, bleak town and the poor ghost lurking around the mailroom seemed more melancholy than anything. She allowed them to dispatch her into the afterlife with very little struggle; that is, after some creative sweet-talking by Sam.

Eileen had teased Sam mercilessly about it before Dean had even gotten a chance. That’s how Dean knows she’s The One.

There was, of course, no motel in town. Sam and Eileen hit the road before Dean and Cas, because Dean insisted on getting a burger for dinner at the tiny diner on Main Street (a mistake). Now he’s staring down the barrel of a night alone with Cas, in cramped quarters, on a dark backroad. If they hadn’t already driven all day to get to Matlock, Dean would push on until they found a motel with vacancies, but he’s exhausted and Cas is just human enough these days to actually be tired too.

“There’s an access road nearby,” Cas says, tracing the map with his index finger. “In a quarter mile. Left.”

Dean follows his directions and sure enough, there’s a bumpy logging road branching off from the highway, stretching deep into the pitch-black trees. Dean pulls in about five hundred feet before turning off the lights and the ignition.

It’s silent. The darkness is all-encompassing, pressing in on Dean, so heavy it’s like he can feel it on his eyelids when he blinks. He takes a slightly shaky breath. Cas is utterly still, as usual, not a single rustle or exhale indicating his presence in the gloom, but Dean feels him there as intensely as he’d feel a roaring bonfire. His heart thuds in his ears.

Why is he freaking out? He’s slept in the car with Sam a million times. But even as he thinks that, he knows, he knows, that this is different. His brain starts whirling through logistics -- who’s gonna take the back seat? Is Cas even gonna sleep the whole night? Or will he wake up and just sit there, staring at Dean for hours, inches away?

Dean needs to shut off his brain. He taps the seat and says “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” comes the immediate response, measured and reassuring. “Would you like to talk?”

Relaxing against the seat and slinging an arm over the backrest, Dean peers over to the passenger side. “Sure.”

The moon’s out tonight, far above the trees, and the grayscale of nighttime slowly bleeds into view as Dean’s eyes adjust. He can just make out the sharp angle of Cas’ nose, the slope of his chest and the outline of his hands folded in his lap. He’s always so upright, so proper. Dean wonders what it would feel like to undo him.

“Are Sam and Eileen having sex?”

Dean chokes on air. Sputtering, he braces himself on the seat and coughs until his eyes stop watering. “What?” he wheezes. “Why-- Dude, why would you ask that?”

He sees Cas turn his head to regard him. Even in the dark, Dean can imagine the piercing gaze.

“It was unclear to me what you meant by ‘be a gentleman.’” Cas lifts his hands to shape the finger quotes. “I assumed the two of them would take advantage of their privacy to engage in physical intimacy. Was your comment meant to discourage Sam from having sex?”

Dean throws up his hands desperately. “Okay-- okay, first of all, quit talking about my brother doing it. And second, no, I wasn’t ‘discouraging’ him, just reminding him to treat Eileen like a lady. You know, romance her a little.”

The darkness is a godsend as Dean’s cheeks flush hotter with every word. He’s surprised they’re not glowing. He taps the seat in a random pattern as Cas sits quietly, seemingly digesting the information.

When he responds, it’s slow and thoughtful. “In the pornography I’ve watched, the participants always begin undressing one another rather quickly. And in my own experiences, there has been very little that I would label ‘romantic.’ What is classified as ‘romance,’ Dean?”

Well, shit. The last of Dean’s composure evaporates, sizzles away like a drop of water meeting his burning face. He drops his head into his hands and groans.

Cas leans forward, his knee brushing Dean’s. “Have I made you uncomfortable?” he asks, voice laden with concern.

Dean’s throat is tight, his fingers sweaty against his forehead. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to at least open his eyes against the shadow of his palms. “Uh-- no. No, Cas. You, uh-- you should be able to ask that kinda stuff. Human stuff. I get that it’s, uh-- it’s important to know. For, y’know. So you can--”

There’s a hand on his knee. A warm, strong hand. Long fingers. Weighty. Dean’s heart kicks into overdrive. He slowly, very slowly, lowers his hands to peek at Cas.

“How do you like to be romanced, Dean?”

There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing in Dean’s brain. It’s a chamber of silence. A void. He stares at the outline of Cas’ wild hair, mouth slightly open.

“...Dean?” The hand on his knee shifts slightly and Dean’s blank brain runs zero interference as his own hand darts out and stills the one threatening to leave his leg. As soon as his skin makes contact with Cas’, though, everything zings back online in a rushing roar.

Play it off, Winchester. Crack a joke. C’mon. “Hah, funny, buddy, you really got me there--”

“--Kissing’s nice.”

He snaps his mouth shut too late. The words float away, unrecoverable.

Cas tilts his head. Then, slowly, very slowly, as if he’s afraid of spooking Dean, he turns his hand around under Dean’s so that they’re palm to palm. An invitation.

With a pounding heart, Dean accepts it. He laces their fingers together. His palm feels even sweatier when it’s rubbing up against Cas’ dry, smooth skin.

Sexy, Dean. Way to go.

Somehow, even though it was Cas asking the questions, he’s the one leading now, shifting closer, laying his left arm along the backrest behind Dean’s shoulders. Their faces are so close that they’re sharing air, just two shadows suspended in a frozen moment.

“May I kiss you?” Cas murmurs gently, his breath washing over Dean’s lips. It smells like rain-refreshed air, like a promise of sunshine, alleviating the weight of the darkness. Dean tentatively chases it with his tongue, wetting his lips and leaving them parted.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. Because fuck, he wants this. He’s wanted this for so long.

And Cas wants it, too.

Dean always imagined that his first kiss with Cas would be an inferno, fireworks, showering sparks, all those cliches. That it would yank him from his body and send him floating through the ether.

It’s not like any of that. It’s better. It’s real.

Cas’ lips are just lips -- a little more chapped than Dean’s used to, perhaps, but they meet his in a familiar brush, followed by the typical tentative press, leading into a hesitant swipe of the tongue.

He’s kissing Cas. Cas, who he’s built up in his head for so long as this untouchable, impossible ideal, who stormed Hell to drag him out, who smote demons with his bare hands, who is so inconceivably old that Dean should be just a speck of sand under his eternal gaze.

Instead, that same Cas is busy dragging his fingers down the side of Dean’s neck. A crest of goosebumps follow, shivers trailing down Dean’s torso, and he gasps a quivery breath against Cas’ lips. He’s not used to being led. Normally he’s the one in charge, giving as good as he gets, focused on hitting the highlights, satisfying his partner. There’s a whole formula.

He’s never trembled like this before.

“Dean,” Cas whispers against his mouth, reverent, his voice somehow gravelly even as a breath. He suddenly pulls his hand free from Dean’s and grips his bicep, dropping his other arm from the backrest to wrap around Dean’s waist. Without preamble, he twists, tugging Dean across his lap. Dean yelps and hurriedly adjusts his legs, ending up with his knees on the seat, straddling Cas’ thighs. His fingers and toes are zinging in excitement.

Goddamn. Who knew being manhandled would do it for him?

The crown of his head presses against the roof of the car and he slouches forward until their foreheads are touching. He pushes his hands into Cas’ hair.

Cas surges forward again, nudging Dean’s head to the side and pressing his lips to Dean’s neck. Dean groans, low and shaky, as Cas parts his lips and sucks a trail up to Dean’s earlobe, his tongue soothing in the wake of his mouth, dragging over every mark that he coaxes to the surface. Dean knows his neck will be littered with bruises tomorrow, but he finds he can’t bring himself to care, not when Cas’ teeth are busy grazing the shell of his ear.

“Jeez, Cas,” he breathes, dropping his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. He's hard already, hips twitching a little, but he keeps his hands firmly in Cas’ hair, tugging the soft, thick strands, guiding Cas’ mouth back down to his neck. His pulse hammers under each press of chapped lips.

He pulls back and captures Cas’ mouth again, sliding his tongue into that wet heat. They trade open-mouthed kisses, a bit sloppy, while Cas’ hands glide up Dean’s back under his flannel. Dean’s absolutely flying, his pounding heart easily winning the battle against the tiny voice in his head dredging up reasons to stop, reasons to run.

He wants to stay .

Their kisses have escalated to a panting, frenzied give-and-take, and Dean’s tired of hunching over. He drops his hands onto Cas’ shoulders and starts leaning back over to the driver’s seat, trying to pull Cas on top of him. Cas whines when their lips separate, but he catches on quickly. A little too quickly. He grips Dean’s waist and shifts him along the bench seat with such force that Dean’s arm goes flying and his elbow smacks right into the middle of the steering wheel.

The horn blares, rending the night.

Both Dean and Cas jerk upright, instantly on high alert. Reality takes a moment to catch up with them.

Cas recovers first. “That startled me,” he says, voice wrecked.

Dean lets out a long breath. He’s still got one leg up on the seat, the other one cramped awkwardly next to the steering wheel. He drags a hand across his face and lets out a breathy laugh. The next thing he knows, he’s doubled over, laughing so hard his cheeks hurt and his eyes water.

He’s just so goddamn happy.

Cas watches him, head tilted in the shadows. Dean lets his laughter run its course, petering out with a sigh of mirth and hand slapped on Cas’ knee.

“What a night, huh?” he says.

Cas lifts a hand and strokes Dean’s cheek with his knuckles. Even after all that making out, this one gesture seems inordinately intimate. But Dean just smiles.

Cas swipes his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone one more time before slowly, almost reluctantly, letting his hand fall. “You need to sleep.”

Dean nods and glances into the backseat. “You do too, don’t you? At least a bit? Maybe we can both fit back there.”

They get out of the car -- the cool night air rushes into Dean’s lungs and fizzes through his chest, bringing the events of the past half hour into blood-rich focus in his brain. He steels himself for the freakout, for the doubt and the deflection, but it doesn’t come. He feels right.

They crawl into the backseat, awkwardly shuffling and shifting, ending up with Cas sitting mostly upright (insisting that he’s fine) and Dean laid out on the seat with his head in Cas’ lap.

He drops off to sleep faster than he has a long time, Cas’ long fingers carding through his hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the light that wakes him, pale gray seeping under his lashes and rousing him from a blissfully dreamless sleep. He lifts his head and immediately winces -- his neck is stiff as a board and his back aches all the way down to his tailbone. He’s really getting too old to be sleeping in the car.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean twists around and peers blearily up at Cas, who’s gazing down at him with one of his rare enigmatic smiles. Dean yawns and stretches as best he can, his back popping. He pushes himself up until he’s sitting next to Cas.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Cas leans over and, before Dean can react, presses a warm, dry kiss to Dean’s cheek.

Sore body or not, this is the best morning of Dean’s life.

They extract themselves from the backseat and stumble into the damp early-morning air. Dean pops the collar of his flannel after a single glance into the side mirror. He’s got a lot of hickies.

They take a second to stretch (Dean admires the way Cas’ pecs shift under his dress shirt as he reaches for the sky) before sliding into the front seat. Dean backs them out of the logging road, the verdant green pines on either side nearly overwhelming his night-accustomed eyes.

Cas calls Sam as they roar down the highway again. It’s only 5 a.m., but Dean handed Cas the phone and told him to give Sam a wakeup call. The kid deserves it after a good night’s sleep in a real bed.

They pull into the parking lot of the Cedar Crest Motel just past 5:30. Dean ends up having to park on the street, though, because the lot’s at capacity, not a single spot unoccupied. He pats Baby in apology as he leaves her, and he and Cas make their way to the room number that a very irritated, cranky Sam snapped at them over the phone.

They’ve almost reached it when Dean suddenly stops dead. He grabs Cas’ arm. Cas shoots him a questioning glance.

“Look." Dean points up at the motel sign. There, huge red letters, blinking through the pale morning light, spell out a clear VACANCY.

“It’s hardly been six hours," Dean says. "No one would’ve checked out in the middle of the night.”

Suspicion rising rapidly, he strides to Sam’s door and knocks as obnoxiously as he can. As soon as the door creaks open, he reaches through and grabs Sam’s shirt, yanking him outside. Sam protests and slaps at Dean with one hand, shoving his bird’s nest hair out of his face with the other.

“What the hell, Dean!”

Dean just throws one arm up at the sign, staring at Sam with raised eyebrows. As soon as Sam sees what he’s pointing at, he shrinks into what Dean immediately recognizes as guilty little brother posture. He’s not even trying to hide it.

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, eyes darting between Dean and Sam, before holding out a placating hand. “I just-- I just thought, maybe you could use some time alone,” he explains hastily, backing up a bit into the room. “If we all ended up here, Dean, you’d insist that we share, you know you would.”

Dean knows Sam’s right (he’s careful with their fake money, so sue him), but he keeps glaring regardless.

“I just wanted some time with Eileen,” Sam mumbles, deflating a bit. “And I thought, y’know, with how you and Cas have been acting lately, that you’d-- uh, that you’d want some time together, too.”

Dean sputters. “Acting? We-- what--”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas says, deep voice cutting off Dean’s protests. “We had a very pleasant night.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he straightens up, a knowing grin stretching over his face. His eyes dart to Dean’s popped collar. “Oh yeah? Did you now?”

Dean shoves him into the room and slams the door shut. There. He turns to Cas, who looks amused.

“Give me at least a couple days before blabbing to my brother,” Dean says, but he finds himself smiling. Cas nods. He reaches out and takes Dean’s hand, just for a moment, squeezing before letting it fall again.

“Of course, Dean.”

#suptober21 #no vacancy #gotta love some cramped car kissing #scheming sam strikes again #destiel fanfic

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canvas-the-florist · 5 years ago

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(2) No Time Like the Present

Pairing(s): Romantic Roceit, QPR Intrulogical, Sleepmas

Warnings: Guillotines, death mentions, assassination, weapons, implied violence, implied blackmailing, anarchy, swearing, Tell me if I need to add anything!

Summary: Dolos doesn’t die, Roman and others™ plan to rescue him and the son of the king isn’t a bitch!

Work Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: This is Chapter Two and I don’t know how links work :,) so yeah... Enjoy the chapter!

“So, I’m… not getting burned for being a witch?” Dolos asked. At this point, he was sitting in a holding cell underneath the castle. Who knew that being arrested would bring you right where Roman wanted to go. Maybe they could get arrested together next time. The guard just outside his cell seemed pretty chill. Like, completely chill. “You know I’m wanted in like… 20 towns, right? Even in Klanbou! It’s almost impossible to be banned there!”

The guard chucked, almost amused that a person as short as Dolos could be a criminal. “You’re not selling yourself very well. The name’s Remy, babe.”

Dolos scoffed. He’s been talking to Remy for about thirty seconds and they’re already sharing names? SOMEONE knows nothing about working against the king. He squinted his eyes. “Call me Deceit.”

“Oh, you little shit. Babe, I’ve shared my name and I only get to call you Deceit? That is cold, gurl. But, I’ll accept it because I’ve heard that you’re able to do wonderful things and that you’re in the rebellion. It’s a bit annoying to admit that I’d need your help. If not have fun joining the rest of the witches.” Remy was saying all of this while unlocking the cell and pulling Dolos up. “Or you could help me out.”

“Do I have a choice?” He asked, despite the fact that both of them were currently walking together through a back corridor in between the walls. It was sort of therapeutic to Dolos to have useless bickering, as it reminded him of Roman. But he had to remind himself that he had no idea who Remy was and therefore couldn’t trust them. He knew this by now. Eventually, the two reached a door leading outside. But before leaving, Remy took off their cloak. “Woah there, I’m already taken.”

Remy scoffed. “Me too, bitch. I’m trying to disguise your curse.” With that, they threw the cloak on top of Dolos and continued walking.

Typical. Dolos pulled the hood over his head and ran to catch up. Yay, he got his life saved at the expense of dealing with one of the most annoying people on the planet. Yes, Remy was now in front of Remus and Roman. Is that a shock? Or is it simply logic because they’ve all known each other since they were 16? Who’s to say? Remy was fucking annoying but a lovely person, much like everything else he knew.

“So do you even have a plan?” Dolos asked, ducking around the place casually. He readjusted his hood to better hide his face. He was trying his best to remain calm and keep his head low. “This isn’t exactly a very permanent solution.”

Remy just laughed and ignored him. They continued to walk down the marketplace while Dolos was still trying to keep his head down. This, apparently, was too slow for this man and he grabbed Dolos’s hand and pulled him. Why was he even doing this? I mean, he was probably going to be murdered either way. Stabbing seemed much more appealing than being burned at this point though, so he let himself be led around without so much as looking up.

Eventually, they reached what Dolos assumed to be a house. It was nice and instantly a warmer contrast to outside. “Okay, where are we?”

Remy gave a smile and pushed down the hood of Dolos’s cloak. “Welcome to my side of the rebellion. Don’t worry, we haven’t assassinated anyone yet.”

“How the fuck did you let this happen? My poor baby is going to be so mad that people think he’s a witch again.” Patton huffed, it was hard to take any of their death sentences seriously when they all had about ten each. They were currently in Logan’s house because he was the only one with an actual job that didn’t include pixie dust trafficking. Roman had to make yet another disguise just to get into it. Too many people knew him here, and if his parents spotted him he would be dead.

“Oooh! Is he going to be guillotined like I almost did?”

“No, Remus. They only did that in Egomond, we’re technically in Matlock at the current time.” Logan rolled his eyes and readjusted his glasses. It was eight in the morning and Roman had traveled all night to get there. Virgil was all the way in Klanbou and a letter would not be able to reach him in time. “We now have to find a way to track him without getting any of us killed.”

“Could it be possible that we could ask a fae?”

“It’s never okay to ask a fae, Patton! They may flirt but they aren’t actually interested.” Roman informed. He had almost given his name to one as a child but managed to be lucky enough to be hit by a stick in the face by Virgil before he could actually say it. The stick being thrown was indeed supposed to hit the fae, but it worked well enough. Now there was a cool looking scar on his chin that he pretends was from the fae themself. “We all know what happened to me.”

Patton whined but nodded, giving no more commentary. While devising a plan, they all agreed that Dolos was most definitely in Yento, the location of the main kingdom. Witches were all generally taken there because the king apparently enjoyed seeing his worst enemies suffer. He was a horrible king and the bandits gave their apologies to the family who seemed tolerable at most. After about two hours, they decided it was time to go to Yento and their beautiful snake-man back.

“I agree and all. But…” Remus gave a little smile. “Are you sure that sneaking into the castle WON’T include hitting people with my morning star?”

“It’s supposed to be a stealth mission, idiot.” Roman sighed. “I just want to get my love back, okay? This requires staying in cities without being killed or standing out. Do you guys understand that?”

Patton and Remus both rolled their eyes at the idea of romance, them being too aromantic for this sort of bullshit that seemed to entrance everyone else. It didn’t matter whether or not that Remus and Logan were QPR’s, Roman’s love for Dolos was different from that. Not that you can actually say that more inherent romance made that big of a difference, but Remus sure seemed to make fun of their brother any chance they could get so they would always say that they were.

Eventually, Patton got a friend of his to take care of the house and shop while Logan got their horses from the stable boy down the road so they’d be ready to go on a quest to save Dolos from getting burned at the stake. Just a normal Wednesday, really. Except, it wasn’t usually the royal guard taking them from their ACTUAL homes so maybe it was a little different after all.

“I have retrieved our horses from the stable. We should be ready to depart within the hour.” Logan called opening the backdoor and yelling into it, rather than walking in. Roman put on his backpack and side glanced at a mirror across the room. He looked miserable and tired. It was to be expected, but he wanted to look his best so his thoughts would stay at their best.

Roman impatiently sighed and felt his head bang across the table after he stopped supporting it with his hand.

“Aww, how cute.” Dolos stood in front of three other people he didn’t know and frowned when he was pushed towards them by Remy. “I already have a delinquent gang, sorry. Thanks for saving me from being burned at the stake though.”

“You know the agreement, Deceit. I saved your life, time to save everyone else’s babe. And you know we’re stronger than you.” Remy stole coffee off of one of his friends. Dolos let out a groan. It was true but still very irritating to hear. “Now, we came up with an idea to overthrow the king-”

“Not yet,” One interrupted. They stepped forward and reached out their hand to Dolos, and as they took it, they pulled down on the arm and hit the hood off of his head. “Oooh, I like the scales. I’m assuming this is why everyone thinks you’re a witch. I happen to ACTUALLY be one and I work on illusions and shit. I’m the person who can help you not get stabbed so thank me later, bitch.”

“Pleasure to meet you, my savior.” Dolos rolled his eyes. He wanted to see Roman again, not help this random group of anarchists. But he would take what he could get, even if it was a bunch of random teenagers he just met. “Well, what should I call you all.”

“Well, they’re Toby, that’s Magenta, and I’m Valerie.” The woman stood up from the couch and smiled. She seemed determined that Dolos would actually enjoy their presence, which was doubtful but might as well agree. “Of course, we’re going to need to know your name? Calling yourself ‘Deceit’ might not be the BEST idea in the world.”

Dolos scoffed but didn’t say anything. For about two seconds… “I have a proposition for you… I help out your little, gang here, and you help me find someone.”

Remy looked at his friends and shrugged, “No time like the present?”

The servant walked up to the doors to the prince’s quarters and sighed before knocking on the door. The sun had already set and they were working way overtime to get this done. They heard a small ‘come in’ before making their way into the room. The prince was laying on his stomach on the ground, looking bored as hell. The servant laughed, closing the door. “Sire, I’m not sure your father would approve of you looking less than perfect.”

“He wouldn’t like me breathing either but he doesn’t have the right to complain about that now would he?” The prince replied snarkily, without changing his position.

“As much as I find this amusing my prince, you really must get up. You’ve set up a meeting for your plans. You wouldn’t want that to go to waste now, would you? I’m sure Toby would not appreciate your absence. Or… Remy would miss you as well.”

The prince let out a loud sigh and crumpled into a ball on the floor, his cape effectively being used as a blanket. The servant rolled their eyes and crouched down to the royal’s level. They weren’t really getting paid to deal with such a crybaby but they had to care about their friend. What a piece of work, honestly.

“Joannnnnnn, don’t bring my boyfriend into this. Or his friend either. It is very rude of you and I can have you executed for this!”

“True, but you won’t even let me breathe anywhere towards danger because you care too much. I don’t think you’d want to even consider the possibility of me getting hurt, would you, Thomas?” Joan replied attempting to pull the prince up from the ground and only half succeeded. Still, it was enough to see tear stains on his face, Joan’s grip slipped slightly. “Goddamnit, what did that sorry excuse of a father do this time?”

Thomas let out a shrug and slumped into his friend’s arms. New tears threatened to fall down his face as the situation was brought up. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it so Joan took Thomas’s hand and guided him to a standing position, thinking of a quick subject change that was also quite important to talk about. The rebellion.

“News from Remy by the way, that fucker who was put in prison for being a witch has now negotiated with the rebellion.”

“Oh, what was his name? Remy didn’t know it and every wanted poster from each town seems to have a different name… Or is that something mysterious we don’t actually know about him because he’s actually good at this stuff, unlike us. But we’re trying our best! Being on the inside helps a lot too! I’m pretty surprised the king let me hire Remy in the first place, seeing as he is very against liking the same gender… Which is really closed-minded of him.” Thomas rambled on, as well as half venting, about basically everything that had come through his head. This might’ve been boring or annoying to some, but Joan knew that this was a defensive mechanism that was pulled out whenever Thomas felt the need to avoid something he didn’t want to think about. And while they usually stopped him from doing this, Thomas clearly needed a distraction.

After about twenty minutes of Thomas talking about random foods he liked and basically every pun he could think of that included whatever food he was mentioning at that current moment, Joan stopped him. “Hey buddy, that’s nice and all but I originally came here to tell you something.”

“Oh,” Thomas stopped his ranting. He felt slightly embarrassed that they let him rant for so long about practically nothing. “And why is that?”

“There’s another assassin after your father.”

Taglist: @azure-shard @bookwyrminspiration @snakeboicouldbegayer

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spn-rewrites · 6 years ago

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01x07 (part 2)

Season One Episode Seven: Hook Man

Summary: the case is getting closer and closer to being solved, despite all the ups and downs but all the reader wants to do it wrap it up and get the hell out of dodge.

Word Count: 5.5k

Part 1 Part 3

It was dark and 9-mile road had an eerie feeling to it that only got worse when Dean shut the headlights of the Impala off. You got out, regardless of how fucking scary this place was at night but you had to investigate the case somehow. Right up close and personal. The extended arsenal of weapons Dean kept in the trunk made you feel slightly better but that feeling went away within seconds.

“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam commented after Dean handed him a gun from the truck. Sam messed with the gun, aiming it in the direction of the road.

“Yeah. Rock salt,” Dean said, handing Sam the bullets filled with rock salt. They were a secret weapon that you and Dean created a while back. Something to keep the spirits at bay until you could safely get rid of them. For good.

“Hhm. Salt being a spirit deterrent.” Sam took them, turning them around in his hand to examine them and then put them in his gun. Dean rummaged some more in his truck and grabbed a weapon of his own and ammo.

“It won’t kill ‘em,” he said, slamming the trunk shut with the gun slung from his back.

“But it’ll slow them down.” You finished his sentence, earning a wink from Dean as he rounded the Impala. You followed in the middle, safely sandwiched between the two boys. Where you always wanted to be.

“That’s pretty good. You and dad think of this?” Sam asked, curious about the ammo. You were prepared to tell him the story, give him every little detail from how the conversation started and how you mentioned the idea, just in passing and as a joke and how Dean’s face lit up, excited about it and then took complete credit for the idea but you didn’t mind. You wanted to indulge Sam in the knowledge of how it took about five different tries to get the rock salt in the bullet the way you wanted and how the first time you guys tried to use it, it didn’t work and the two of you ended up running from a spirit like you were in a horror movie.

“I told you, you don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius,”” Dean beat you to it, giving his answer as blandly as possible. His incessant need to make Sam think highly of him, the secret was that Sam already did. You were cut off the sound of the woods just beyond the road creaking. Twigs snapping and the brush moving around and it wasn’t from the wind.

“Over there, over there,” you whispered, turning your attention a few feet to the right. You nudged Sam, who’s gun was lifted and aimed and ready to shoot if need be. The end of the gun followed your gaze and Dean had his hand ready to grab his weapon if he needed to as footsteps started to approach. The leaves. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Under the footsteps of whatever was ahead.

“Put the gun down! Now! Now! Hands behind your head!” A voice boomed, causing Sam to immediately drop his weapon. An officer, sheriff, park ranger, you didn’t know. You couldn’t tell and it didn’t really matter because he had a gun pointing right at the three of you and he would shoot if you didn’t do what he said so you hands went behind your head.

“Wait, wait, wait! Okay! Okay!” Dean coaxed, setting the gun that was hanging from his back on the ground and doing what the officer said. Spirits, shapeshifters, Hookman legends were all easy peasy but the law enforcement parade was a whole separate story.

“Get down on your knees! Do it! On your knees!” He bellowed, getting closer and closer with his gun still aimed in your direction. Again, you did what you were told, the twigs poking into your knees. It hurt and you wanted to move them away with your hands, adjust your positioning so that you didn’t end up with holes in your kneecaps but you knew better. “Now get down on your bellies! Come on, do it!” He yelled once everyone was on their knees. One step further, you thought. The knife in the back.

“He had the gun,” Dean whined, frustrated that the cops were making him also get on his stomach you understood, being in the same boat as him but you would have never said it out loud and you wished you could kick him for it.

“We saved your ass! Talked the sheriff down to a fine, my dude. I’m Matlock,” Dean boasted as he pushed the grand doors of the police station open. It was the next day and the three of you spent the night in police custody. They let you and Dean go with just a warning, seeing as you didn’t have a gun aimed at law enforcement’s head but talking Sam out of jail time was a little bit harder than that.

“But how?” Sam asked, trying to catch up to Dean’s fast pace. He wanted to get out of there quickly. Less time near police, the less time they have to decide they want to search his car. You always told him they wouldn’t unless they had solid evidence to, but Dean was paranoid about it.

“Told him you were a dumb ass pledge and we were hazing you.” Dean chuckled at his own made up story. It was the first thing that popped into his mind and you followed along with it. It seemed to be the easiest and most realistic story, seeing as the events of the past few weeks.

“What about the shotgun?” Sam still pushed harder for more information. A few more feet to the car and then you guys were home free. Note to self, next time don’t go into the creepy woods.

“We told them that you were hunting ghosts and that the spirits are repelled by rock salt. Typical hell week prank,” you explained. The truth, in your case, never made any sense and it was so wild that sometimes it was the best excuse. No one wanted to question it. With the death of the frat boy and no suspects or leads, rumors were going wild and why wouldn’t a ghost be one of them?

“And he believed you?” Sam sounded like he didn’t believe you himself. Like you were making up stories and he was going to get arrest at any moment. As if they let him loose, gave him a taste of his freedom just to take it away as quickly as it was given to him.

“Well, you look like a dumb-ass pledge,” Dean joked as you finally reached the car. Sam went to open the door when Dean mumbled his name. You both followed his gaze and saw at least 5 police officers rushing out of the same doors you two came out of only moments ago. One of them was the cop who questioned you. You could have sworn you saw Sam’s life flash before his eyes as if what he was imagining in his head was coming true but then they all got in their respective police cars, ignoring the three of you and speeding off with their sirens on full blast. You decided to follow.

The Impala went as fast Dean would let it, going fast enough to keep up with the sound of the sirens but not too fast because then you would end up in the same situation you were in earlier.

Dean inched closer to the scene, yellow caution tape cutting off the whole driveway

and yard of what seemed to be a normal, suburban house but something awful happened on the inside of it. Something no one would ever be able to imagine just by looking at it’s perfectly sided exterior. Lori Sorenson sat on the back of an ambulance, a blanket wrapped around her shoulder. What the hell was she doing here? You noticed Sam’s eyes linger longer than you wanted.

Dean went around the corner of the block, parked the Impala and you gained access into the back of the house. You needed to get as close to the crime scene as possible before they cleaned it all up and poof all evidence of whatever this was is gone. “Why would the Hookman come here? It’s a long way from 9-mile road,” Sam pointed out, poking holes in the only theory you guys had.

“Maybe he’s not haunting the crime scene, maybe it’s something else,” Dean said, patching it back up. The three of you crept alongside the house, keeping a close eye on the people in the front of the house, their backs turned towards you. A pair of girls came into view, closer than the other people and all three of your backs went up against the wall, Dean’s arm covering over your chest as if you didn’t get the hint.

Sam was already started to climb the side of the house without Dean noticing because his eyes were too attached to the back of the girls. “Damn sorority girls,” Dean drooled. “Think maybe we’ll see a naked pillow fight?” Dean laughed at his own joke as you helped Sam take his first couple of steps up the house. When Dean notices, his laughter subsided and he started to help you climb up behind Sam and then him, behind you. His eyes still never left the girls butts.

You kept your hand trailing alongside the house, the contact-making you feel a little less like you could fall off and die at any moment in time. Sam kept peeking behind him at you like he needed to keep a close watch but you knew Dean was behind you and would catch you if you fell. You wondered why Sam kept looking if he knew that, too.

Before he made any more moves, Sam checked the crowd in the front of the house to make sure no one was looking up. When the coast was clear, he pried open the window and slide in. You did the same and then so did Dean, who was a lot less graceful than you. “Be quiet,” Sam hissed from inside the house.

“Me be quiet? You be quiet!” Dean pressed back, getting his whole body in the house. You closed the window behind him, ignoring their bantering. You were in a hallway with fresh linens folded up on a shelf. The door to the right of you was the victims. You knew that by the police officer that was looking around, taking notes on his pad. Sam held out his arm so neither you nor Dean would go ahead and get caught.

When the officer left, the three of you entered. The only crime scene tape that was up was blocking off the queen size bed with a queen size pool of blood-soaked into the sheets. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light” was drawn in blood, blood that was dripping down the walls and into the sheets Sam repeated the words, his voice quiet. “That’s right out of the legend,” he said.

“That’s classic Hookman, all right. It’s definitely a spirit,” Dean said, pointing at his nose. With all the gore that was in front of you, the horrific smell was the least of your concerns. You starred at the scene in awe as Dean started to look around for other clues.

“Yeah, I’ve never spelled ozone this strong before,” Sam commented about the smell. You pointed at a symbol that was drawn in the same blood. It was lower than the words, like a signature. “Hey, come here,” Sam called for Dean who appeared within moments. “Does that look familiar to you?” He asked like he knew the answer but wanted Dean to put the pieces together for himself. You felt it, too. It was too familiar for it to be random. A signature. That’s exactly what it was.

You snuck out of the house, down the siding and tiptoed back to the Impala where you dug up all the papers and information that you had about the Hookman legend. There, on a drawing of the hook Jacob Karns used, was the symbol. “It’s the same symbol,” you pointed out the obvious as you sat on the hood of the Impala, Sam in the middle holding the paper.

“Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns,” Sam concluded, still reading the pages of Jacob. Dean seemed content with this information, looking off into the street and not at the pages anymore.

“Well, let’s find his body, salt and burn the bones,” he said as if the solution was always just that easy.

“After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an old North Cemetery in an unmarked grave,” Sam read, flicking the papers as if they were the one who caused this. The pages were the reason Jacob Karns was unfindable. The pages were the reason these people died.

“Super,” Dean deadpanned and got off the hood of the car, rounding it to get in the front seat. Sam quickly followed suit, grunting as he got up. He held his hand out for you to grab and you did, acting as if the touch wasn’t sending shivers down your spine.

“So, we know it’s Jacob Karns, but we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next,” Sam was explaining when Dean picked off a piece of paper from his windshield. He read it, turned it around a few times. “Or why.”

“I think I have a wild guess about why. I think your friend Lori has something to do with this,” Dean said, not explaining what the note was but instead he got in the car. Sam cocked his head, giving his brother a quizzical look before turning to you. You shrugged your shoulders, knowing nothing and held your hands up in defense.

Dean explained on the way to the frat house that the note he saw was from Lori herself, which is why Dean made the comment about Lori having something to do with it. It made sense, she was at two of the murders and the only witness.

The frat house was crawling with college students that were either getting drunk or completely drunk. While you were dodging all of the creepy guys, staying close to Sam’s side, and gawking at how idiotic all these people looked dancing as if they were made of metal poles, Dean was checking out all of the hot sorority girls.

“Man you’ve been holding out on me! This college thing is awesome!” Dean yelled over the heavy music that boomed through the entire house. Sam was hitting his palm with a rolled-up stack of papers he had been carrying around. He was jittery. Nervous.

“This wasn’t really my experience,” he commented. No expression in his voice but his eyes were darting around the entire place probably looking for Lori, you assumed. You didn’t let that hurt you. That he was looking for another girl while you were standing right next to him.

“Let me guess, library, studying, straight A’s,” Dean said. It was more of a statement than a question because you both knew that was exactly what Sam did in college. He didn’t party and hook up with girls and get drunk every weekend and wake up in someone new’s bed. No, he went to class and did all his assignments and then he met Jess and settled down into his little apartment where he continued to get good grades only now he had a hot girl to wake up to every morning. Sam nodded at Dean’s comment, as you suspected. “What a geek,” Dean teased.

“We did our research,” you told Dean, anything to change the subject. You took the papers that he was messing with out of Sam’s hands, unrolled them, and showed them to Dean.

“It was bugging me. How is the Hookman tied up with Lori?” Sam asked, setting the scene for why you did the research and what you had found. Dean nodded and started walking through the crowd. You both followed him and Dean read the paper silently before reading it out loud.

“1932 - Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967 - Seminarian held in hippie rampage,” Dean read off the article titles, glancing at your expectant faces. He didn’t get it. He wasn’t putting the dots together so Sam did for him.

“The pattern. In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality.” Dean stopped to listen to Sam talk. You stood close to Sam as boys passed you by, looking at you, pawing at you. Dean noticed and stared at them until they felt uncomfortable and walked away. “And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force,” Sam continued. “Killings carried out - get this - with a sharp instrument,” Sam finished. His face was so filled with excitement that you were almost let down when Dean decided to push the connection.

“What does this have to do with Lori?”

“A man of religion who openly preaches against immorality,” Sam repeated again. Lori’s dad. Dean got it, nodded his head as if he just solved the math equation he had been working on for ages. “Maybe this time instead of trying to save a whole town, he’s trying to save his only daughter.”

“Reverend Sorenson,” Dean commented, reading the pages in his hands again. “You think he’s summoning the spirit?”

“Maybe.” Sam glanced around the room, checking for any prying ears or Lori maybe. “Or you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?” He suggested.

“The spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them. Yeah okay,” Dean ran through the facts as quickly as they went through his mind. How big the possibility of that actually was.

“Without the Reverend ever even knowing it,” Sam finished his thoughts. When they got into their rhythm, they bounced off of each other like that ping pong game at the arcades or the pizza parlor. Words and thoughts, ideas and facts spitting out at each other and bouncing around the room.

“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,” Dean said to his brother. You wanted nothing less than for Sam to be drinking at a party and keeping an eye on another drunk college girl but he did what needed to be done. He hesitated before answering, which made you feel a little better but not really by much.

“What about Y/N?” Sam asked, no doubt referring to the eyes that kept falling on your butt and the hands that were like magnets to the small of your back. All eyes and hands unwelcomed, unless they were attached to the Winchester boy, who’s honey eyes, were all you could seem to fucking focus on. Focus.

“Um, standing right here and can take care of herself!” You called out after a beat. You gestured your hands up and down your body to further prove that you were actually there and didn’t need to be spoken for. Sam’s eyes following your hands were just a bonus.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Dean agreed with little hesitation until a blonde bombshell rounded the counter and bent over the pool table, pretending she could actually play but you knew and Dean knew that she really just wanted someone to look at her ass. “And I guess we’ll go see if we can find that unmarked grave,” Dean groaned, looking away from the girl and cursing under his breath. You couldn’t help but laugh at him as you followed him through the house.

Sam’s hand grabbed your wrist before you could get too far and he turned you around. “Be careful,” he said. His eyes were searching your face. You nodded and he let go too soon but you walked away from him despite every bone in your body screaming not to.

Once again, you found yourself in a dark, creepy space but this time it was filled with gravestones and you just knew in your heart that there were ghosts all around you. Dean leads the way, the flashlight shining the path that you were following, looking for an unmarked grave that you could potentially dig up. Some leaves crackle and Dean stops. “What was that?” You whisper, nervous of every sound that you could hear. He shook his head and the noise away and continued. “There!” You whispered, pointing eagerly at an unmarked grave with a familiar symbol etched into the cement.

“Aha, here we go,” Dean mumbled quietly while you set all your stuff down. Dean shoved the shovel into the ground and you set up the lights so he could see. You were there for moral support, not actual support. There was no way you were digging up a dead body and Dean knew that. So, he started digging. “Next time, I get to watch the cute girl’s house,” Dean grunted as he shoveled out yet another pile of dirt.

“Just keep going,” you brushed off his comment about Sam being with a cute girl and kept the light, and your eyes, on the hole in the ground you were sitting next to.

“Oh, don’t act like it’s not bothering you that he’s there right now.”

“And why would it?” You asked, looking down at him for once. He took a break, setting the shovel down and coming close to you. Your heart was racing at whatever it was he was going to say and you wanted to look away but you didn’t. You forced yourself to look at him. To prove that nothing was going to shake you.

“Because you’re in love with him, stupid.” You took offense to his comment, shook the light a little bit at the ground below you. Now you broke the eye contact and looked down, studied it as if it could make the comment go away.

“I think you’re close, keep going.” Dean did as you asked, slamming the shovel into the ground. The entire ground below him cracked and he hit it again and there he was the skeleton in all his glory. “Hello, preacher,” you purred.

Dean handed you the shovel and you gladly took it, reaching your hand down to help him up. He groaned as he stood on solid ground and you rummaged through the bags of stuff to find the matches. Dean was cleaning himself off from all the dirt that he was covered in and you handed him the matches. Dean lit one and then lit up the preacher.

Still, no rest for the wicked because after everything was said and done, a phone call came through your next stop was the hospital. You followed the nurses instructions to the room where Lori’s dad was but you were stopped by two officers. “I’m with him. That’s my brother. Hey, brother!” Dean tried to push his way through, but the officers made you stay back. The officer speaking to Sam gave them the signal and they let the two of you through.

You smiled and thanked the guards as Dean just waltzed in as if he owned the place. As if he had a right to be there.

“You okay?” You asked as the two of you met with Sam in the middle of the long corridor that leads from the two of you were waiting to where the Reverend was laying in bed. Where Lori was waiting with him.

“What the hell happened?” Dean asked, peaking around Sam’s body to try and catch a glimpse of what was going on but all you could see was the police officer, keeping a close eye.

“Hookman,” Sam said simply. But no, that wouldn’t make any sense.

“You saw him?” Dean asked, just as confused as you were but you were flustered and confused and Dean was always cool and calm and collected and he could muster up the words.

“Damn right I did. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam snapped, dipping his head closer to yours so that you could hear him whisper and the rest of the hospital, and the police officer, couldn’t.

“What the hell are you talking about? We did. Are you sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?” You spoke up, defending yourselves even though you knew that Sam wasn’t really mad. You were projecting and judging by the look Dean gave you, he knew it, too.

“Sure as hell looked like him. And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching onto the Reverend,” Sam said, putting more pieces together. Just when you think you’ve figured it all out - the final piece, sitting there in arms reach and you go to put it into place and it’s not the right fit.

“Well yeah the guy wouldn’t send the Hookman after himself,” Dean shrugged as if that was common sense.

“I think it’s latching onto Lori,” Sam offered. A light went off in your head, ding ding ding. Of course, it was latched to Lori. “Last night she found out that her father was having an affair with a married woman.”

“So what?” Dean asked, pushing Sam again. You didn’t even want to know why or how Sam found out that information. What they talked about. Why they were talking about and God, did he kiss her?

“So she’s upset about it. She’s upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, that you get punished,” Sam kept spitting the facts. Like the conversation was on repeat in his brain. Like he wanted to keep her voice and her words close to him so he never forgot it.

“Okay so she’s conflicted and the spirit of Jacob Karns is latching onto her repressed emotions and maybe doing the punishing for her,” Dean kept going, again like ping pong balls.

“Rich comes on too strong. Taylor tries to make her into a party girl. Dad has an affair,” you start listing off all of the reasons the people around Lori got hurt. You actually felt bad for her. What if her dad had died, too? She would have lost a lot of people she was close to and on top of that, she would be the number one suspect. Of course, Sam kissed her.

“Remind me not to piss this girl off,” Dean joked, looking out the giant window that lit up the entire space.

“We burned the bones. We buried them in salt. Why didn’t that stop him?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest and gave Sam your attention. He looked at you, really looked at you for the first time since you saw him today and it was like he slowed down.

“You guys must have missed something,” he shrugged.

“No, I burned everything in that coffin,” Dean defended himself, looking at his brother. His face was stern and serious now, certain that we got everything but you had little to attest to. After all, you sat on the sidelines watching.

“Did you get the hook?” Sam asked as if it was that easy. As if that was such an obvious answer and you should have looked for the damn hook.

“The hook?”

“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, a part of him,” Sam said, again spitting facts and they’re all right all the time and it was fucking annoying.

“So like the bones, the hook is the source of his power,” Dean ping-ponged off of Sam and Sam ping-ponged off of Dean and they looked at each other like they solved the world’s biggest cold case.

“So if we find the hook.”

“We stop the hookman,” they said in unison.

“Ok, that is really starting to get creepy.” You held your hands out, taking a step back and distancing yourself from the creepy twins.

So so you did more research. Back to the drawing board to search for the hook that was keeping Jacob Karns on this Earth and killing people. Not innocent people, you thought, but still people. Was he really that bad? Was he any worse than the three of you?

You sat three in a row at a table in the library, book sprawled out all over the place just searching, searching, searching. “Here’s something, I think,” Dean said, chewed up pen in his mouth. He took it out and used the side that was in his mouth to point at the book, yuck. “Logbook, Iowa State Penetrary. Karns, Jacob. Person affects, disposition thereof,” Dean started drifting off as he spoke. Something about after his execution and his personal belonging and then it got too quiet to really hear him. “St. Barnabas Church.”

“Isn’t that where Lori’s father preaches?” Sam asked, of course, he would know that you thought. The thought came faster than it left and you felt bad for it ever cross your mind because you knew that and Dean knew that and just because Sam knew, doesn’t mean he’s in love with her. “Where Lori lives?”

“Maybe that’s why the Hookman’s been haunting reverends and reverends daughters for the past 200 years,” Dean suggested. The Hookman was lazy. Didn’t want to hunt for it’s pray, it would rather sleep for 20 years and strike at the least suspecting person. Someone with a lot of friends that do bad things.

“Yeah but if the hook were at the church or at Lori’s house, don’t you think someone might have seen it?” Sam asked, stating another obvious fact. “I mean, a blood-stained, silver-handed hook?” You would think, you thought. But people weren’t that smart and things go unnoticed all the time but that wasn’t a good enough answer and you knew it would never be that easy. You wanted nothing more than for the case to be over. For Lori Sorenson to be just another person that we helped along the way and to put thousands of miles in between her and you and Sam.

“Check the church records,” Dean grumbled and got up to receive just that. It took only a few minutes, a few position changes and one single thought - that Sam looked really good sitting in the chair that way, with his hair in his eyes and his biceps popping out as he flipped the pages of the book he was hunched over - to find the answer.

“St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received - silver-handed hook from State Penitentiary. Reforged.” Sam tapped the book the same way he flicked that paper like it did something wrong. “The melted it down, made it into something else,” he sighed and leaned back into the chair. Defeat. That was what was in the air of the library now. Defeat.

“Well! Looks like the case is closed and there’s nothing else we can do!” You chanted, standing up quickly, closing the books near you and walking away from the boys before they could say a word. You knew it wasn’t that simple and if they started something they would finish it but you had to admit that seeing Lori’s face made you want to punch yourself. Yourself for feeling so many feelings for a boy that’s emotionally unavailable and being mad at another girl for seeing the light in his smile the same way you did.

The older boy followed you but you brushed off any questions he asked you and agreed without any arguing that you were going to the church and finishing this job before anyone else got hurt. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? To help people and make sure they weren’t getting hurt but what about you? God, you were selfish.

You pulled up to the church and got out of the Impala. “We can’t take any chances. Anything silver goes in the fire,” Dean said, setting the rules up for the night’s work of finally getting the hook and putting the spirit down for good.

“Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in,” Sam said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He knew where she was, of course, he did. You wanted to kick yourself for the thoughts you kept having and how mean they were for no reason but something about this place and that girl were getting to you.

“All right, take your pick,” Dean offered.

“I’ll take the house.” Of course he would.

“Y/N?” Dean asked, looking at you. You wanted to go with Sam, spend time with him but you knew you would just get pissed off so you decided against it.

“I’ll stay with you,” you said. Dean nodded and Sam walked off, heading towards the house. You started to walk towards the church, away from Sam and Dean.

“Hey,” Dean called out after Sam. You stopped also, looking back at the older Winchester. “Stay out of her underwear drawer.” You rolled your eyes at his comment and when he looked at you to follow, you saw the panic in his face for even saying that out loud but it was brotherly banter and you knew he couldn’t help himself but to tease Sam. You wonder if there was something Dean knew that you didn’t, but you were paranoid.

@matchamendes @stuckupstucky @sillydecoy @jessewa26 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @liztorr1212 @icanreadbookstoo

#spn #spn rewrite #supernatural #supernatural rewrite #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural blurb #supernatural fic #supernatural one shot #boyfriend sam #winchester #tfw #team free will #01x07

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go-redgirl · 4 years ago

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Nolte: Here Are 11 of Joe Biden’s Biggest Debate Lies

President Trump trounced Joe Biden during their final debate Thursday night in Tennessee. It wasn’t even close. Biden was looking at his watch because he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of the ring (I’m also told the debate took place in the middle of a Matlock marathon.) I was looking at my watch because I didn’t want it to end.

A quick word on the muting the microphones…

You put boundaries around a filmmaker like Michael Cimino, you get classics like Thunderbolt and Lightfoot and the Deer Hunter. You take away those boundaries, you get Heaven’s Gate.

You put boundaries around a Dennis Hopper, you get a classic like Easy Rider. You take away those boundaries, you get a disaster like The Last Movie.

Trump is an artist. He needs boundaries. Threatening to mute his microphone helped him and hurt Biden. It hurt Biden because interrupting (something he did a half dozen times in the first debate before Trump ever interrupted him) is the only debate tactic Biden has. Go back and watch his 2012 vice presidential debate with Paul Ryan.

Trump doesn’t need to interrupt to win a debate. He’s a gifted debater. The threat to mute the microphones took away Biden’s only go-to move and forced Trump to win on substance and facts.

One more observation before we get to China Joe’s lies.

Last night, Trump was forced to defend his record, to explain it… And because he has a very good record as president, he was able to.

Because Joe Biden has a terrible record, he was forced to lie… To tell 11 bald-faced whoppers, and here they are… All of Biden’s quotes below come directly from last night’s debate. [emphasis mine throughout]

1. No One Lost Their Insurance Under ObamaCare

BIDEN: “That’s why I did not — not one single person, private insurance, would lose their insurance under my plan, nor did they under Obamacare. They did not lose their insurance, unless they chose they wanted to go to something else.”

FACT: Up to six million people lost their private health insurance plan after Obamacare became the law of the land, and the reason people lost their private health insurance is the most immoral things about Obamacare… Obamacare outlawed — actually made it illegal, for private insurance to offer private plans that did not live up to Obamacare’s lofty and ridiculous standards. Essentially, Obamacare demands we all, each and every one of us, pay for Cadillac plans that include all kinds of things we don’t need. So if, for instance, you had a reasonably priced catastrophic plan with a high deductible — and these are perfect plans for the healthy — Obamacare outlawed them.

So many people lost their private plans that even the Obama-loving media were forced to declare Obama’s promise that “no one would lose their insurance or doctor” the Lie of the Year.

2. America was Cozy with Hitler

BIDEN: “We had a good relationship with Hitler before he in fact invaded Europe, the rest of Europe.”

FACT: This is such a ludicrous lie it’s hardly worth debunking. Franklin Roosevelt was president during Hitler’s rise. Roosevelt became president in 1932. Hitler became Germany’s chancellor in 1934. The president has sole authority over foreign policy, and at no time was Roosevelt fooled by Hitler. He certainly tried to stop and stay out of the European war, but Hitler’s aggression towards our allies and Hitler’s own hatred of America… This is such a stupid lie.

The reason Biden told this lie is what’s most illuminating. Biden is embarrassed that Trump has been able to do something Obama and Biden could not… Get North Korea to stop rattling its war sabers and firing off missiles.

Before Trump took office, North Korea (like ISIS) was on everyone’s mind. Thanks to Trump’s handling of North Korea (and ISIS), we hardly think about it anymore.

3. I Never Opposed Fracking

BIDEN: “I have never said I oppose fracking.”

FACT: Biden spent the entire primary opposing fracking. There’s a ton of video of it. Here’s a taste:

4. I Didn’t Oppose Trump’s China Travel Ban

BIDEN: “I talked about his xenophobia in a different context. It wasn’t about closing the border to Chinese coming to the United States.”

FACT: Here are Biden’s own tweets attacking the China travel ban as xenophobic: We are in the midst of a crisis with the coronavirus. We need to lead the way with science — not Donald Trump’s record of hysteria, xenophobia, and fear-mongering. He is the worst possible person to lead our country through a global health emergency. 5:01 PM · Feb 1, 2020

See new TweetsTweet

Joe Biden@JoeBiden·Mar 18Stop the xenophobic fear-mongering. Be honest. Take responsibility. Do your job.

Stop the xenophobic fear-mongering. Be honest. Take responsibility. Do your job.3:35 PM · Mar 18, 2020105.3K

I always treated the Chinese Virus very seriously, and have done a very good job from the beginning, including my very early decision to close the “borders” from China - against the wishes of almost all. Many lives were saved. The Fake News new narrative is disgraceful & false!

5. Illegal Aliens Show Up For Asylum Hearings After Being Caught and Released

BIDEN: “The catch and release, you know what he’s talking about there? If in fact, you had family, came across, they’re arrested. They, in fact, were given a date to show up for their hearing. They were released. And guess what, they showed up for the hearing. ”

FACT: Catch and release is America’s gobsmackingly stupid policy of catching illegal aliens in our country and then releasing them back into our country with a notice to show up for an asylum hearing.

Yes, we release illegals into our own country after we have caught them. These illegals have already broken the law, but we still release them and tell them to come to a court proceeding, which they will almost certainly lose, which means they will be deported. In other words, they have no incentive to show up.

Through a number of maneuvers I don’t want to get bogged down in here, Trump has made amazing strides in putting an end to catch and release. Biden would reinstate it, and in order to justify it, he’s falsely claiming illegals dutifully show up for their asylum hearings.

Well, they don’t. Close to 90 percent do not.What’s more, it only makes sense that they don’t.

Why would they? If they were legitimate asylum seekers, they would have asked for asylum in a legal fashion. These are illegals who snuck in and only ask for asylum after they’re caught.Raising the Minimum Wage Does Not Hurt Anyone

BIDEN: “There is no evidence that when you raise the minimum wage, business has gone out of business. That is simply not true.”FACT:

Biden wants to more than double the federal minimum wage to $15 an hour, another disastrous one-size-fits-all idea. And now he’s claiming that forcing companies to double payroll expenses (this also increases taxes paid by employers) won’t hurt businesses.

He further claims it never has.The idea that mandating a raise in the minimum wage hurts businesses and workers is not even controversial. Everyone knows it does.

What Trump said is exactly right. This should be left to the states. A $15 minimum wage might make sense in blue states with their unnecessarily high cost of living, but South Dakota and Alabama sure don’t need it.No One Brought Up Biden’s Troubling Ukraine Conflicts of Interest During ImpeachmentBIDEN: “Nothing was unethical.

Here’s what the deal, with regard to Ukraine, we had this whole question about whether or not because he was on the board. I later learned of Burisma, a company that somehow, I had done something wrong.

Yet, every single, solitary person when he was going through his impeachment testifying under oath who worked for him said I did my job impeccably. I carried out U.S. policy.

Not one single solitary thing was out of line. Not a single thing. Number one.

”FACT: Again, we have the video tape proving this is a lie.

A whole lot of people involved with impeachment were concerned with Hunter Biden looting Ukraine while his dad, the vice president, was the Obama administration’s point person there.

Trump Never Told Putin to Stop Meddling in American Elections

BIDEN: “And to the best of my knowledge, I don’t think the President said anything to Putin about [election meddling].

”FACT: Oh, isn’t China Joe, whose family received $3.5 million from the former mayor of Moscow, precious when he says to the “best of my knowledge.

” He knows damn well Trump has told Putin to butt out — plenty of times.

Hunter’s Emails are Part of a “Russian Plan”BIDEN:

“Look, there are 50 former National Intelligence folks who said that what this, he’s accusing me of is a Russian plan.

They have said that this has all the characteristics– four– five former heads of the CIA, both parties, say what he’s saying is a bunch of garbage.

”FACT: The evidence that the Hunter Biden emails exposing Joe Biden as the head of a crime family trading off his role as vice president to get rich continue to be verified — and done so on-the-record, including pollster Frank Luntz.

FACT: Because he’s old and growing senile, Biden garbled this with a double negative, but Biden is claiming Trump refused to take any responsibility for the coronavirus, when the only thing Trump claimed he was not responsible for was the early testing failures, and Trump was in no way responsible for the early testing failures. Trump was VERY specific on this point.

Trump Has Alienated ‘All’ Our Allies BIDEN: “[H]e pokes his finger in the eye of all our friends, all of our allies.

”FACT: What in the world is Biden even talking about here? Our relationship with Israel has never been better.

He’s convinced Mexico and other countries to make great strides in slowing down illegal immigration. Peace is breaking out all over the Middle East. I could go on and on…

READ MORE STORIES ABOUT:

2020 Election Politics debate Donald Trump Fact Check Joe Biden John Nolte

_____________________________________________

OPINION: Have anyone ever known a Democrat not to lie, cheat, still point a finger at the innocence to say their own family or themselves.

Heck, we believe the Democrats invented lies in this country 😂🤣🤣

If the didn’t they wouldn’t be able to survive in their crooked, deceptive lying world that their ‘brains’ live in.

0 notes

amarguerite · 7 years ago

Note

For the DVD Commentary: the scene in Chapter 1 of A Dalliance With The Duke where Elizabeth, Marjorie, and the Countess Lieven are discussing Lady Wellington.

Scene and commentary below the cut!

One late January afternoon when Elizabeth and her sister-in-law, Lady Stornoway, were boring themselves with needlework, the Countess of Lieven glided into the sitting room of Matlock House, looking sour. “I had a dreadful morning, Lady Stornoway. I demand tea, sympathy, and the chair nearest the fire. Ah Mrs. Fitzwilliam! I am glad you are here, you might be able to fix at least one of my torments this morning.”

“I am happy to do so,” said Elizabeth, happily putting aside her work. She was closest to the tea tray and reached over to begin pouring a cup, assuming that the countess’s torments had already been listed. But alas, they were not.

“The next time you see him,” said the countess, sitting down in such a way as to suggest that neither her back nor her neck were capable of bending, “tell the Duke of Wellington that his house is abominably cold! I do not care how much the Duchess has mismanaged the household accounts! He should give her more money for coal. My cup had more ice than tea in it.”

“I do not know that I would have much influence.”

Marjorie and the Countess of Lieven shared an amused look.

“More than I would,” said the Countess of Lieven, primly. “He has not dined at my house every evening for nearly three weeks and my husband did not win him Waterloo.”

“If you tease His Grace about it, my dear sister,” said Marjorie, “I think you might meet with some success. He likes it when you tease him; he doesn’t take offense at the correction. And I am sure you can charmingly protest that the cold is the reason you cannot repay his visits.”

“I cannot repay his visits because I am in mourning,” Elizabeth pointed out, though she’d already thought up a clever quip about frostbite, and was eager to try it on His Grace.

The countess looked loftily amused. “No matter, Mrs. Fitzwilliam. I am Russian; a cold winter is the least of my torments. Indeed, if I gave more credit to the greater of my torments, I might even think it some strange form of hospitality.”

“What other torments did you have, your ladyship?” Marjorie asked, taking the teacup from Elizabeth and passing it over.

“None other than the Duchess herself,” said the Countess Lieven, dryly.

Marjorie sighed. “Yes, Lady Wellington is… Lady Wellington. She is her own exhaustive list of general inconveniences.”

The countess had been sitting on a bon mot and now grandly released it to the room. “There are two major deficits at Apsley House: kindling and Kitty.”

Marjorie smiled behind her upraised teacup. Elizabeth tried not to smile, feeling it was perhaps unkind. As often as she was in the company of the Duke of Wellington, she had seldom seen the Duchess, who never came on campaign, and had avoided company when her husband was Ambassador to Paris. The few overtures Elizabeth had made in Paris had been met with accusations over a host of imagined slights, before lengthy apologies and a reintroduction into Her Grace’s good graces. Elizabeth had not much cared to be in the Duchess’s good graces, as long as she and her husband were still in the Duke’s, and politely avoided her thereafter. “I must confess that I was not… particularly impressed with her, when she was with Lord Wellington in Paris. She never visited, and the company at her few parties was infelicitously mixed. No one ever knew what to say to anybody, unless it was to quarrel, and the food was never good enough to provide conversation. I cannot imagine her habits are different in London.”

“You were recruited as a hostess from time to time, weren’t you Lizzy?” asked Marjorie.

“I was, though not very often— there were ladies of more experience and higher rank than I, who could manage the business better.”

The Countess Lieven said, dryly, “Anyone could manage the business better than dear Lady Wellington. She was not made to be an Ambassadress.” Elizabeth supposed the countess would know; Count Lieven was theoretically the Russian ambassador to England, but it was a running joke that Tsar Alexander could have sent the Countess on her own and been just as successful in his diplomatic efforts. “Nor is Lady Wellington meant to a hostess, or a duchess. I think she really would be happiest if she was left alone in the countryside somewhere with a large brood of children. She might have made an excellent squire’s wife.”

“It is a pity she is instead the wife of one of the most public figures in Europe,” said Marjorie. “She ought to have thought about that before she married.”

“Fie, fie,” said the Countess Lieven, taking a biscuit from the tea tray. “I believe the Honorable Miss Catherine Pakenham was engaged to the Honorable Mr. Arthur Wellesley when his mother, the Countess of Mornington, still thought the Honorable Arthur was too useless for any occupation but the army. Miss Pakenham could not have expected him to have become quite so accomplished.” She nibbled on the biscuit, thought Elizabeth could not quite reconcile the word ‘nibbled’ with the Countess’s dignified way of consuming sweets, and asked, “How goes the work of the bill? Have you determined on a date to introduce it to the Lords?”

“We expect to introduce the sixth of February in the Lords,” said Marjorie. “I think we can get it through in a day or two— then it’s over to the Commons.”

“Ah, so the second week Parliament is in session,” said the countess, considering this. “Interesting.”

“We feel it is important enough to warrant an early introduction,” said Marjorie.

“And Wellington, of course, does not leave for France until the eighth or the ninth.”

“There is that,” said Marjorie, quite innocently.

The Countess turned to Elizabeth with a slightly mocking smile. “So I have three weeks more of glacial winter at Apsley House. Come now, Mrs. Fitzwilliam, do not leave me to suffer.”

At Elizabeth’s hesitation, Marjorie said, “You are nearly eight months into your mourning. You can visit now, you know. And I will go with you. You needn’t fear any censure on that head.”

Elizabeth gave into the superior forces of two of London’s most powerful political hostesses.

So with this particular fic, I really wanted to explore the soft power available to to the specific set of women Lizzy finds herself in: upper class, gentry to aristocratic society women, whose husbands, fathers, lovers, etc. are the ones who tend to get referenced in history books. I hate the old, implicit idea that while the men were off defeating Napoleon and the like, the women were sitting at home, virtuously waiting. So I decided to start off the fic with someone who DEFINITELY wasn’t sitting at home while her husband did all the work– someone who seemed to me to be more of a mover and shaper of the political world than her husband, the Countess (later Princess) Lieven. This also gave me a chance to show how Marjorie’s particular situation wasn’t unusual (i.e. clever woman with a less talented husband, whom she nonetheless needed in other to have influence in society) and to show how she interacts with her social equals, as opposed to just with her family. You also see that the soft power these women wield have all to do with the friendships they form and the personal relationships they cultivate. Lizzy is part of this network already, through her friendships to Marjorie and the Countess Lieven, and to Wellington, and instincively knows how to work within it.

I think it’s important and interesting to investigate the networks of female alliances and friendships which undergirded society at this point in time. So, although Countess Lieven has a beef with Wellington (ha, get it?) she doesn’t go directly to him. She goes trough the informal female network of her friends. It was also a handy way to point out that society already knows that if they want Wellington to do something, and he doesn’t seem inclined to do it, the best way to get him to change his mind is to go through Mrs. Fitzwilliam. It’s a dynamic I stole from Wellington’s IRL friendship with Harriet Arbuthnot, and also prepares the way for Lizzy and Wellington to get together and be accepted by high society. They’re already primed to think of Lizzy as Wellington’s friend and confidante; hr being his wife only makes it more official. It also shows that she’s a trusted friend whose opinions and advice he already values, and that Lizzy already knows how to present criticism in a way that causes him to change his behaviors rather than get defensive. The cold house was something the Countess Lieven IRL complained about in a letter to Metternich: “I have been obliged to promise the Duke to visit him in the country tomorrow. He has unfortunately taken it into his head that his house is the most comfortable in the world. Well there are two very definite drawbacks to that comfort. It is always cold and his wife is stupid.”It was actually about Stratford-Saye, but Wellington didn’t own the estate in 1816 (also didn’t own Apsley House, which, alas, I only found out 4 chapters in… siiiiiigh. Let’s pretend in this world Wellington’s older brother, the Earl of Mornington, was in significant financial difficulties much earlier on, and sold Apsley House to his brother in 1815), and I thought the line was too funny not to use it.

To return to the point about female political alliances– one person who I think was not great at those? The Duchess of Wellington. Part of the reason Marjorie, Lizzy, and Coutness Lieven get on is because they are all aware of the appropriate social responses. They all know that courtesy is not merely politeness, but necessity. If you are not courteous, you do not build the alliances you need to get you ahead/ keep you in your position/ achieve your aims/ etc. (Lizzy’s less aware of this than Marjorie and the Countess Lieven. She thinks courtesy is just one of the highest forms of virtue, and things work better as a result of it– she has a more idealistic view of the rewards of good behavior.) The Duchess can’t quite play this game– poor thing, she’s not equipped for it. She’s an anxious, fretful woman, who doesn’t understand or have much interest in the public sphere, but by the very nature of the person she married, she must have a position and take an interest in things beyond the private. Poor Kitty is miserable. And that misery, I think compounds her inability to perform as ‘Duchess of Wellington.’ She gets so nervous and fretful, I think she works herself into anxiety spirals which sabatoge even her best attempts at public life. It’s a state of mind that is rather alien to the other three women. Marjorie and the Countess Lieven have always known who they would be and how they must perform the roles allotted to them, and Lizzy is of a naturally cheerful disposition and very adaptable. She has the most pity for the Duchess out of the three because– though she isn’t anxious herself– she’s seen this pattern of thought in her mother, and also feels a sense of solidarity with the Duchess in their both being military wives. Of course, Kitty’s a far cry from Mrs. Kirke or Mrs. Kearney, or any other of the ladies who follow the drum and form Lizzy’s group of friends in Spain, but Lizzy doesn’t realize that until her initial overtures are rebuffed. Also, all three women are easy in society, and like going to balls and parties, and dressing up for them. It’s fun for them. It’s hell for Kitty. And that disconnect is very difficult to get over, especially when you add to the fact that it’s reflective of how Kitty doesn’t engage in the same methods of alliance-building and influence as all the major female players in London society at this time.

#dvd commentary meme #a dalliance with the duke #my fic

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askaceattorney · 7 years ago

Text

Dear 1,

Juniper Woods: Ace Attorney sounds like a very bad spin-off in my opinion. It would be satisfying, however, to have her as a tutorial to another game, if she had to be one temporarily, and it’s the last case she has to do before she becomes a Judge, and then is the main judge for the remainder of the game. Just a personal thought though.

As for the Original Trilogy, I think it was much more thought out than the second trilogy. It feels like it has more interest, more backstory, less throw aways, less recycled content, etc. I love the Second Trilogy, but I think they could have tried harder. You can’t beat the classics.

Dear 1,

I think a Juniper Woods spinoff might have the potential to be interesting, but only if something happens to her to create a drastic change in her personality -- not something horrible, necessarily, but something that makes her question everything she believes about the legal world. As it is, I agree that she seems more like a tutorial sort of character.

I also love the Original Trilogy, since it’s what introduced the concept of a courtroom drama in the form of a video game, and even kept it interesting for three whole games. Given, it had a few rough starts, but it just kept getting better as it went, in my opinion (in fact, I sort of like the newer games better, to be honest). So if I were to describe it to a friend, I’d say it’s like watching Columbo, Matlock, or another detective/courtroom drama, only you have to solve the mysteries on your own instead of just watching the main character do it. That’s the main thing that makes it (and the whole series) so engaging.

Dear One,

I’d rather not make a meme. I’ll leave that to the proper memer’s out in internet land.

Dear One,

Meme #1: There’s nothing finer than feeling fine

Meme #2: When your task gets delegated to your junior partner

Meme #3: “Man, I could really go for a meat lover’s pizza right about now...”

Dear Rubia,

I honestly hadn’t given much thought to how few references there are to Japanese culture in the Ace Attorney universe, given Ms. Hsu’s claim that America embraces it more there. Heck, I didn’t even realize the Amanos were supposed to be of Japanese descent. It’s sort of ironic when you think about it.

As for Phoenix, I don’t have any doubts that Mr. Naruhodou is canonically an ancestor of his. Phoenix himself might look 100% American (with an unusual hairstyle because anime), but even if his DNA is less than 1% Japanese, the connection can still be seen between the two of them in their personalities and behaviors. In fact, Dai Gyakuten Saiban might have been Capcom’s way of trying to counterbalance the lack of Japanese people and customs by having it set in Japan, as well as showing how Phoenix is (though very indirectly) connected to it. I also remember wondering if Susato might have been an ancestor of the Feys. She has both intelligence and the sass that most of them are known for, after all.

I agree that things turned out all right the way they are, but it does make me wonder how Ace Attorney would’ve been received in America if the first game had been set in Japan, or if the characters at least traveled there at some point. I’ve never been there myself, but I imagine it’s a country with as much charm, excitement, and criminal activity as America. If Spirit of Justice taught us anything, it’s that lawyers are needed wherever people exist.

Also, while we’re on the topic of foreign races in games, I recently watched an episode of Extra Credits that made me realize how seldom races other than American and English are represented in games (and Italian, in a kinda-sorta way). It’s true that they’re easier to relate to for us Americans, but it’s also sort of sad that we can get used playing as entirely made-up fantasy races, but other human races tend to be used much less often. That’s another wasted opportunity, in my opinion.

But I find it even sadder when clever lines are lost in translation. Why would you do that to us, Capcom!?

Dear Mouthmouth(?),

Well, I erased your entire name and email by accident, so I guess we’re even.

I’ve seen your name on a few of the letters we’ve received, so there’s a chance that some of them made it through. We delete the ones we can’t answer for a variety of reasons, so there’s no telling exactly why we deleted yours if we did -- it might have been because of inappropriate content, or because of something entirely different, so there’s no real need to apologize.

In any case, thanks for reading the submission guidelines! It’s become pretty clear that not everyone does that.

Dear Sonia Nevermind,

Dear Anonymous,

As of right now, there are 2,339 letters in the inbox, and counting. I wish we could give a definite answer to your second question, but all I know for sure is that it takes somewhere between 3 and 4 months for us to reach a letter after it’s been sent. Hopefully someday soon we’ll be able to remedy that issue, but that’s how it goes with ask blogs as popular as this one.

Dear Anonymous,

AAAAAHH, NOT A GAME THEORYYYYY!!!

*ahem* Anyway, that’s definitely an interesting theory, but there are at least a few objections I have to raise in response. First is that the poker games he took Trucy to were played in a room that used to be a hideout for criminals. I doubt he would’ve brought Trucy with him if he suspected any of his card game opponents to be wanted for anything. Secondly, while clearing Phoenix of his forgery charges wasn’t the main goal of the final case, it was accomplished indirectly when Apollo exposed Kristoph’s ties to Drew, and I imagine Phoenix was expecting him to connect those dots somewhere along the way. And finally, while the jurist system was pretty much a one-time thing, I feel like Phoenix’s reason for using it was because it was the only legal way to put an end to Kristoph’s crimes. It was underhanded to be sure, but I wouldn’t say it was as unscrupulous as Simon Keyes’s way of seeing justice done.

Of course, there’s no way to say for sure what the motives behind Phoenix’s actions were in AJ. In fact, I wouldn’t be too surprised if they were partly fueled by his hatred for what Kristoph and Zak had done to him. He seems like a nice guy overall, but everyone experiences hatred. It also seems strange that he would take something from a crime scene, but I think it’s just as likely that he wanted to make sure he had it before the police confiscated it. Whatever the case may be, I think it’s too early to call him a delusional narcissist. If he were, poor Ahlbi (along with many other defendants) might not be here today.

-The Modthorne and Co-Mod

#1 #Anonymous #gyakutensaibanvsaceattorney #Nobody #Mod Post #Modthorne #Co Mod #The Modthorne managed to get those answers in just before her computer went out of commission again

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eenefangirlanalysis · 7 years ago

Text

Requesting a drum beat Edd proudly announces that their sea vessel is ready to set sail. He is also going to christen their boat. This seems like a little much.

Christening a boat is intended to bring good luck. Hmm... I can’t tell if the Eds run into bad luck or not since everything ends up being okay in the end.

I see Edd has delved into research on boats. He’s also proud of their project. They’d been running into mashap after mishap. The outcome of this boat makes Edd feel hopeful that everything will get better.

Speaking of which where did the soda bottle come from? Ed, were your hoarding? Or did someone pollute? Either theory is viable.

"By the authority vested in me, sanctioned by want, I hereby christen this seaworthy vessel, the esteemed, um–"

“‘S.S Mutant Almost a Chicken Duck.’“

“Surprised you didn’t run out of paint.”

I love Ed’s imagination. I feel like the movie shows very little of Ed’s antics. He could have had more screen time. Ed is a very important member of the trio. He makes the series what it is. It’s okay to have a big imagination. We’re all unique in our own ways.

Talking of which, where did the paint come from?

The boys have very little supplies. They’re only living off one what nature provides for them.

“Stand clear, gentlemen!” Edd winds up the pitch.

But lands too shortly.

It hardly even took off.

I can’t tell if it was the writers were making fun of Edd’s physical strength or Edd really is a lousy pitcher.

He’s holding back. Edd is afraid of himself. His physical strength is what got him into trouble as a kid. Then again, the dodge ball machine was more of his wits. No matter how confident he seems Edd always asks Eddy for a second opinion. His parents never handled the incident in the best way practically making him disappear from the world.

Ed and Eddy taught Edd how to be confident again. And they would have taught him to be more confident if a certain scene wasn’t deleted. Edd overcomes his fears. It’s what makes him be the first person to face Eddy’s Brother.

Eddy taunts Edd for his weak muscles and asks if they can leave now.

Ed is adorable.

Eddy uses Ed’s hand to stand on as he roughly grabs Edd by his hat to place him inside the boat.

“My Bro will make us eat a barnacle if we show up while he’s watching ‘Matlock’.

Edd exclaims another astounded ‘really?’

Matlock is a TV show that ran from 1986-1995.

@jenny2x4 head canons that EENE could take place from 1999-2000. ‘Matlock’ has been doing reruns for a while now. I have never watched the series. From what I have read about the show revolves around a detective trying to find a killer. It does have some resemblance of the Eds journey. Eddy finds out numerous clues on who his brother is.

I also noticed that the final two episodes of the series are named, ‘The Scam’. Interesting.

Through my research I believe Matlock and The Wizard of Oz are the only shows and movies ever mentioned by the characters. If anyone else knows that more have been mentioned please let me know. There is a famous connection between Ed, Edd n Eddy and The Wizard of Oz.

I like how movies and TV shows aren’t mentioned very much over the series run. Actually, the Eds don’t spend their days watching countless hours of TV. They spend their days outside living in the fresh air. And also living in the world. That says a lot.

Kids are spending too much time invested in technology. They don’t need a cell phone before the age of eleven. They needed to enjoy the world and play with toys, or play sports. Technology is a distraction from ones imagination.

Don’t spend your life glued to technology. Go out, live and explore the world.

Ed is excited by the revelation that Eddy’s brother is going to feed them.

It must be late afternoon at this point.

I never noticed how yellow that cloud is until now. The sky plays a good indicator for the time of day. Shows that you don’t need a watch to know the time. Pay attention to the sky throughout this film. It is painted so wonderfully.

Why does Eddy always have to stomp all over his friends?

Because Bro must have treated his friends like doormats. Eddy believed that to be the correct way to treat friends. Still Eddy knows that he is being too rough. I have pointed out those times Eddy true nature shows through. He feels terrible for treating his friends under a power of abuse. He tests how far they can go. Ed and Edd are stronger then Eddy thought.

Eddy: Heck yeah, [Bro] was the royal cook for the king in Englishland. Edd: You mean England, Eddy.

Does Edd really believe this to be true?? Surely, he has to be on to Eddy by now. Eddy’s stories about his brother are getting too corny. This is the most Eddy has ever talked about his brother.

What was the point of Eddy showing his brothers room to his friends? Was it meant to get a second opinion from them? Eddy is terrified of his brothers room. He’s been searching for answers for years. The most answers he ever received was the day he was with his friends.

Eddy mentioned that he went in once only to get hit with the safe. Eddy is not as confident as he appears. When the Eds are together to face a challenge they know it won’t be as bad. When alone, they’re scared. I mentioned this when Eddy was walking alone throughout the cul-de-sac in Jingle Jingle Jangle.

Never face a challenge alone.

Look at Eddy’s curved smile in the screenshot. He’s been having a tough time keeping a straight face. Usually he’s a lot better at telling lies. It’s tougher. He can’t get himself out of this ruse. Bro may be in another state for all he knows. Know that he won’t be able to keep this ruse going for much longer Eddy fears how the rest of the day will go.

Oh, we all know how it’s going to go in their next scene.

Taking advantage of cartoon physics Ed moves the earth placing their boat in the stream.

Eddy: And away we go! It ain't nothin’ but smooth sailin’ straight to big bro's place, boys!

Eddy, you should know better then to say these kinds of things. You always run into trouble.

Do you guys all want to learn about a scene which would have been a part of this?

The Eds were to lament about siblings.

Ed would have lamented about how he missed Sarah. He also feared that he’d never see her again. That would have been the only instance, besides the end of the movie, where Ed mentioned his sister.

Ed’s relationship with Sarah is rather important. Sarah too. Sarah cares about Ed more then she lets on. I think Sarah wished Ed could have been there to save her on multiple occasions. Sarah has a whole journey where she realizes that Ed is not a bad person. No matter what she has done to belittle him Ed has never given up on her.

Edd was also going to talk about how he always longed for a sibling. He’s always felt alone. There was a moment in season 2 where Edd mentioned that he was glad to be an only child. His opinion changes more and more the further his parents drift away from him. A sibling could bring his family back together.

Edd has observed Ed and Sarah’s sibling relationship. That’s not the best example to go on. Edd is interested in the relationship Eddy talks about having with his brother. If any of Eddy’s stories are true Edd would like to have a sibling how looks up to him. And so he won’t be so lonely.

And Eddy would have sprouted off on more stories about his brother.

You know, this may have been a reason why the Eds connected. They share a sibling like bond. The was a scene set up at the end of the movie where Eddy realizes Ed and Edd were more brothers to him then his own.

#ed edd n eddy #eene #ed edd n eddy big picture show #the eds #Ed #Edd #Eddy #The Wizard of Oz #Matlock #character analysis #deleted scene #EEnE analysis #Sarah #Eddy's Brother #ed edd n eddy jingle jingle jangle

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markwatkinsconsumerguide · 5 years ago

Photo

Consumer Guide / No.97 / Oxford Mail journalist Andy Ffrench talking books and records with Mark Watkins.

MW : Tell me about yourself...

AF : I’m Andy Ffrench and I live and work in Oxfordshire. I’ve been a newspaper journalist for over 30 years and I’ve been lucky enough to work for my current paper, the Oxford Mail for over two decades.

I live with my wife and three children in Abingdon. When I’m not working I enjoy playing old records, watching football – I had to give up playing when I kept getting injured – and reading crime novels. Ian Rankin’s Rebus thrillers have always been a favourite as it’s a great way to be in Edinburgh without actually visiting. There are lots of fantastic crime writers out there – Cara Hunter and Olivia Kiernan are both Oxford-based authors, so I have enjoyed interviewing them about their latest stories.

I’ve bought hundreds of second-hand books over the years and love going to Hay-on-Wye where there must be about 40 different bookstores – such a big variety and you can lose yourself for days there. It’s been a family tradition over the years to camp there for the Hay Festival and it’s been a big thrill to see and meet some of my favourite authors and performers over the years including Clive James and Billy Bragg.

MW : How did you get into record collecting?

AF : I started buying records when I was a kid – I was probably about 10 when I bought my first single, Brian and Michael’s Matchstalk Men – it’s not cool to say that but of course I bought Oliver’s Army too and Blondie’s Sunday Girl so my choices were varied.

From quite a young age I got hooked on hearing a tune on the radio – usually Radio Luxembourg – and then going to the record shop later to buy the single. In those days back in the late 70s singles would only cost about £1 and if I skipped school dinners I could buy the latest Two Tone release, or David Watts by The Jam.

Funnily enough, 40 years on you can still pick up singles for £1 a go, or maybe even 50p each, in charity shops, record shops, or the market and the thrill hasn’t gone of picking up a great Motown tune, or I Can’t Explain by the Who, for almost nothing.

So, singles remain my first love when it comes to vinyl and at some point I graduated to LPs – I’ve got hundreds of singles and hundreds of albums and from time to time I sell a few albums because I know more will be coming and I don’t want the house to feel too overcrowded.

The first album I owned was Parallel Lines by Blondie and that still gets a play followed shortly after by ELO’s Discovery.

MW : What are some of your favourite items in your collection?

AF : The albums I played at university : so Rattlesnakes & Easy Pieces by Lloyd Cole; Infidels by Bob Dylan; This Is The Sea & A Pagan Place by The Waterboys; Steve McQueen by Prefab Sprout; Love by Aztec Camera AND The Wishing Chair & In My Tribe by 10,000 Maniacs – must be among my favourites, PLUS the records I bought before I went to college.

I’ve still got the singles I bought when I was a kid – Madness, The Jam, Costello, The Undertones and I’ve even written my name on some of them!

Also, favourites are records that have been given to me by record dealers or by fellow vinyl lovers on Twitter such as this guy (Jim McCormack) in Scotland who sent me his spare copy of Sulk by the Associates when I mentioned I had owned it once and lost it over the years.

MW : ...still seeking?

AF : The chase is sometimes better than the kill if you enjoy buying second-hand records in record shops – I very rarely buy online.

I’m still in the market for a vinyl copy of Dylan’s Oh Mercy and Last Of The True Believers by Nanci Griffith – and a lot more – some are albums I have lost or sold over the years. I’m looking forward to returning to Riverman Records in Oxford when it reopens – that’s my favourite.

http://www.rivermanrecords.co.uk/

MW : You mentioned books at the start of this Q & A, so who are your favourites?

AF : Anything by Ian Rankin, Cara Hunter, Olivia Kiernan, Graham Greene and Haruki Murakami.

MW : What's the allure of buying second-hand books?

AF : As previously said, I love going to Hay-on-Wye and there’s a place in Derbyshire called Scarthin Books which I would happily go back to.

http://www.scarthinbooks.com/

You can lose yourself in these places and always come out with something good. Picking out first editions for 50p or £1 in charity shops and then selling them on can be fun and it’s do-able if you’ve got a good eye but it’s pretty time-consuming.

MW : Have you ever found any interesting inscriptions in your book purchases?

AF : I’ve got a copy of part of Graham Greene’s acclaimed biography by Norman Sherry which is signed by the author’s wife. I got her to sign it when I landed an exclusive interview with her about 20 years ago – I’m keeping that one!

MW : Football is also a passion of yours...

AF : I’ve watched a lot of football games over the years and once had a Newcastle United season ticket for the Gallowgate when I lived up there in the 1990s.

Also, spent a lot of time watching Tranmere Rovers at Prenton Park when I worked on the Wirral. Don’t get to so many games now but love watching Champions League on BT Sport with my sons.

MW : How are you finding the current lockdown / social distancing restrictions due to coronavirus?

AF : As a journalist I can work from home most days. It’s difficult and I would much rather be in the office or doing interviews face-to-face ; putting together a daily paper is a team game, but we are all trying to manage as best we can in the crisis which I hope will be over soon.

One way to alleviate the tension is to continue posting records on Twitter and talking to like-minded vinyl obsessives.

I’ve been doing that for about a year now and it’s such a lovely online community of guys and women out there who have the same interest – it’s very rare that anyone gets snippy on there.

I have tried to start something called “Singles Sunday” which is pretty self-explanatory. It’s led to some amazing singles collections being brought down out of the loft. The thread each week really takes off and I’m seeing picture covers I’ve never seen before.

It’s one day at a time at the moment but playing the records and sharing them on Twitter definitely helps.

There’s also an online radio show by a guy called Simon Philo on Radio Free Matlock I really enjoy called the Sweet Spot which plays power pop – think Back Of My Hand by The Jags.

https://radiofreematlock.co.uk/

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thereallygoodblogshow · 5 years ago

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MA Fashion and Textile Practices Major Project Path - 7th August

Who would have thought such a scandalous and anarchistic song by punk band the Sex Pistols would have and been ranked one of the greatest of all time by Rolling Stone Magazine, and resides on the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame list as one of the top 500 songs that Shaped Rock and Roll?! But that’s exactly what ‘God Save the Queen’ is.

youtube

Sex Pistols [Sex Pistols Official]. (2012, May 9). Sex Pistols - God Save The Queen [Video file]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqrAPOZxgzU

Sex Pistols formed in 1975, made up of four young Londoner’s: Steve Jones, Paul Cook, Glen Matlock (who was later replaced by Sid Vicious on bass) and lead singer John Lydon, aka Johnny Rotten. The band signed a two year contract with EMI records in 1976 for £40,000 - a label keen to cash in on the new youth movement that was Punk. The label were the ones to release the band’s debut record ‘Anarchy in the UK’.

The decision to sign the Sex Pistols would be something that EMI would later come to regret following a controversial live interview on Bill Grundy’s Today TV show. EMI’s other band Queen were the ones to be interviewed, but had to pull out due to Freddie Mercury having the toothache, so the Sex Pistols were brought in as the replacement. The band - pumped up on green room wine - quickly turned the interview into a glorious foul-mouthed spectacle. The nation reeled and soon the television phone lines were ringing off the hook with complaints. The Daily Mirror the next day had the headline: ‘The Filth and the Fury!

Hall, C. (2012). The Pistols' foul-mouthed outburst during a televised Bill Grundy interview outraged a nation. [Publication]. Retrieved from https://www.mirror.co.uk/incoming/gallery/never-mind-jubilee-heres-sex-852797.

This was of course great publicity for the band! EMI didn’t see it as such and due to pressure from the labels shareholders dropped the band in the January of 1977. Their manager Malcolm McLaren - a hugely influential figurehead within the Punk movement, and some say, along with girlfriend Vivienne Westwood, one of the main initiators of the movement itself within the UK - wishing to ride the wave of controversy took no time in re-signing the band to the US label A&M Records in the March of 1977. McLaren and A&M, seeing the opportunity to milk the controversy further, arranged the record signing outside Buckingham Palace with the idea to release ‘God Save The Queen’ immediately afterwards, and pressed 25,000 copies in anticipation.

Unfortunately history was to repeat itself, and after a wild party to celebrate the signing at the A&M offices which spilled into a neighbouring school playground - resulting in the police being called - the band were once again up for the chop. A&M’s bosses did not want to tolerate a brush with the law so dropped the band just days later. The 25,000 copies of ‘God Save The Queen’ were destroyed, well the majority were....the remaining ones are classed as some of the rarest vinyl in the UK.

Not one’s to be dissuaded the band signed a third deal with Virgin in the May of the same year. The song was then finally released at the same time as the Queen’s silver jubilee celebrations and went on to sell 150,000 copies in one day rising to 200,000 in the first week of release. McLaren and Virgin were truly on board with courting controversy and arranged the band to play on a boat down the Thames which ended directly outside House of Commons, members of the party were arrested when the boat came in to dock.

The song was selling well but wasn’t radio worthy due to its controversial content, and was immediately banned by the BBC. But what better publicity could you get than to have a banned record and not be able to see the group play it?! This was of course not forgetting the records cover, itself a part of the controversy. Designed by Jamie Reid in 1976 it was to go a long way in creating the aesthetic symbolic of the UK Punk movement. Jamie Reid started out as an artist and anarchist who was part of the Situationist movement - a prominent organisation in Europe between 1957 and 1972 consisting of intellectuals, avant-garde artists and political theorists. He was responsible for much of the Sex Pistols graphic imagery and record covers, his use of torn newspaper text, the Union Jack flag and the adaptation of Cecil Beaton’s Silver Jubilee portrait of Queen Elizabeth II was to be forever engrained into our psyche as the Punk aesthetic personified.

Peacock, T. (2017). Oh So Pretty: How Sex Pistols Embodied The Punk Aesthetic. [Artwork]. Retrieved from https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/sex-pistols-artwork-punk/.

Here are a few connotations of Reid’s artwork. You can see how he was playing around with ideas before settling with the finished piece. The actual cover of God Save The Queen utilised the main photograph but was set on a blue and silver background below:

Wikipedia, n.d. (2007). This is the cover art of the Sex Pistols' 1977 single "God Save the Queen", designed by Jamie Reid. [Photograph]. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/God_Save_the_Queen_(Sex_Pistols_song).

So why did I chose the specific lyrics I did from this song? ‘There is no future in England’s dreaming’ to me, these words signify what is wrong with certain aspects of society, a society born from the attitudes of elitist government members. They appear to be on an entirely different agenda to the rest of us. The may have high aspirations for this country but those aspirations are invariably un-achievable to the ordinary person. Sadly these words could be as appropriate today as they were back in 1977. ‘Don’t be told what you want/Don’t be told what you need’ is saying don’t be controlled, think for yourself and do what you feel you have to do for your future, or your future will be decided for you.

Websites:

Hall, J. (2017). God Save the Queen at 40: how the Sex Pistols made the most controversial song in history. Retrieved from https://www.telegraph.co.uk/music/artists/god-save-queen-40-sex-pistols-made-controversial-song-history/.

Brady, D. (2017). Jamie Reid — God Save the Queen. Retrieved from https://medium.com/fgd1-the-archive/jamie-reid-god-save-the-queen-25852ef575d4.

Peacock, T. (2017). Oh So Pretty: How Sex Pistols Embodied The Punk Aesthetic. Retrieved from https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/sex-pistols-artwork-punk/.

Wikipedia. (n.d). Jamie Reid. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jamie_Reid.

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auntiem4cabs · 6 years ago

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Curious as a Cat

Hi! I’m your host Bev Sykes of the blog “Funny the World“. . Welcome to Sunday Stealing. This feature originated and published on WTIT: The Blog. Here we will steal all types of questions from every corner of the blogosphere. Our promise to you is that we will work hard to find the most interesting and intelligent questions. (Past hosts include: Our first – Judd Corizan, Mr. L, Kwizgiver and Bud) Cheers to all of us thieves!

These are from a site called Curious as a Cat.

1. I wish I had enough money to help people when they need help.

2. If you had to enter a competition for the “Most Uselessly Unique Talent,” what would your talent be? Ironing like no other!

3. When it might hurt their feelings, how do you feel about telling your friends the truth? This is always hard for me. I have been hurt yet grateful a few times with friends being honest, I guess you have to know the situation. Telling someone… “You really don’t need french fries and a frosty” is just as hard as telling someone “your husband/wife is stepping out behind your back”. BUT… just tell me. I may already know!

4. Peanut or plain?Plain

5. Is there someone you would like to take your place in life for one day? Who and why? Hell NO. Now on the other hand, my niece worked FOR the Miami Heat and now works FOR the Cleveland Browns… boy I could enjoy walking in her shoes (stiletto or not!)

Jul 27, 2018; Berea, OH, USA; Cleveland Browns quarterback Baker Mayfield (6) throws a pass during training camp at the Cleveland Browns Training Complex. Mandatory Credit: Ken Blaze-USA TODAY Sports

6. Who was your favorite teacher and why? Mrs. Jewell. I still break down when I think of her. Her daughter was one of my best friends growing up. She taught Home Ec for 7-8 & 9th grade. I LOVED cooking, and loved even poking around when she was cooking at home for her 8 kids and husband. I hated sewing but she always got me through. In 9th grade she nominated me for the Crisco baking award and Betty Crocker baking award. I ended up as a baker for 40 years and one day someone asked if I ever thanked the one who inspired me? I did not. But I will… then Mrs Jewell was killed as she turned into our local Walmart. Don’t put things off.

7. What do you think is the ugliest thing or event on Earth? Mama June

8. What is your least favorite of your personality traits or quirks? I’m gullible

9. I wish I could see John Grich because he hurt so many of us when he killed himself. I’d like to tell him how much hurt he brought to so many people.

10. Tell us your favorite children’s story. I don’t remember childhood stories well

11. Explain how to play your favorite game. Its scrabble… no explanations necessary

12. What do you keep in the trunk of your car? I drive a Terrain. Dog beds, dog blankets, dog snacks, water … oh a spare tire is somewhere under there…

13. Tell us about your favorite way to get lost in a simple activity — running, chopping vegetables, folding laundry, whatever. What’s it like when you’re in “the zone”? I love doing laundry. The fresh smell, ironing sheets, crisp…. but I haven’t been in the basement in over 9 months. My husband does the laundry without complaint, but I use baking soda and vinegar…downey and toss in sheets. He washes dries and tosses in a basket. He’s getting better though, or I have become tolerant.

14. What’s your dream tourist destination — either a place you’ve been and loved, or a place you’d love to visit? What about it speaks to you? My new ‘want to go to’ place is Alberta Canada, in the Canadian Rockies. I have to have a knee first, though!!

15. What parts of nature do you like best? When winter changes to spring and the world comes alive again.

16. What kind of program do you enjoy most on TV–detective shows, comedies, game shows–and why? ALL I DO IS WATCH TV… Law and Order, Perry Mason, Matlock. Yeah, Matlock. But I have found a show I really like on Amazon Prime. The Marvelous Mrs Maisel

https://www.amazon.com/Marvelous-Mrs-Maisel-Season/dp/B06WPB59TM

17. Do you know any professional athletes? nada. And do you remember who my niece works for??? I need to get better so I can ‘drop in’ maybe while Baker Mayfield is in the offices….

18. What will the next must-have technological innovation be? Jetpacks? Hoverboards? Wind-powered calculators? Hmmmmm I thought we would be driving The Jetson cars by now, so …..

19. Have you ever been the victim of a crime? Yes. I was … sexually assaulted in high school… shhhhhhh. Nothing I have ever said out loud. I had my car broken into TWICE… once I heard the alarm and thought ‘oh boy, someones getting broken into’… hahaha only to find out the next morning it was me! And I met a burglar in my hallway. Spikey saved me on that. He kicked Spikey and I didn’t care what was going on NO ONE HURTS MY SPIKEY. …. He gets out of prison in April.

20. What if you woke up tomorrow with the ability to understand animals. What do you think you’d hear from them? Mom!!!!! I have to go outside, but its RAINING!!!

21.What is something that makes you melancholy? Missing Spikey. Still. 2 years later. I love that boy!

March 16, 2019

Cookie Questions

I just learned that March 6 was was National Oreo Cookie day, so in honor, here are some cookie questions

1. Do you eat Oreos? Yes, but I bake with them too. Making Peanut Butter Pie tonight.

2. If you eat Oreos, which are your favorite – original, double stuff, golden original, golden double stuff, Oreo brownies, Oreo ice cream? Double Stuff

3. Do you twist your Oreos apart? Isn’t that a LAW?

4. Are you able to pass by a plate of cookies and not take one or are you a bit of a ‘Cookie Monster’? Only when I am at home.

5. Tell us about your favorite cookie. Crunchy, soft, chewy, crumbly, other? Store bought…crunchy. Famous Amos, Oreos…etc. Home made? SOFT… oatmeal, peanut butter mmmmm.

6. Have your tastes changed since you were a kid? Not much

7. Enquiring minds want to know if you are a dunker and, if so, do you dunk in milk, coffee, or tea? yes, yes and YES

8. It is that time of year and they are selling them on every corner and in front of every store! Do you buy Girl Scout cookies and if you do, which is your favorite? Occasionally but DOLLAR GENERAL has the same cookies at half the price and they are DELISH!

9. Raw cookie dough. Yay or Nay? oF course!

10. Do you like cookies with filling? Like Raisin… not so much

11. Do you prefer organic cookies? Giant Eagle had to change my Dole frozen berries to Market Basket Organic ( I use delivery and curbside, so they shop). THIS is the FIRST TIME in 60 years that I have put anything ‘organic’ in my mouth. So… no. Oh, and Spoiler Alert… they taste the same and if they weren’t a substitute, they were at least double the price

12. Large cookies, or small cookies? small

13. Do you like familiar flavours in cookies? I like anything in cookies. Bits and pieces, pecans or almonds, chips, Andes mints….

14. Do you make your own cookies, or buy them? Right now I have a hard time standing up for long periods. But I get tired of NOT standing up. So when I can, and I will tonight, I prefer to bake my own. BUT I do have 2 packs of fake oreos so I can make a crust for my PBPIE, and of course for my husband who likes his sweets.

15. Please tell us something random about your week!! Well, my surgery which was scheduled for yesterday has been postponed again. White cells too high? IDK. I dont even listen. Or care. I have become a truck driver with my mouth and attitude, and its funny�� In all the time that I have been down, NEVER a visit from our pastor. Not one. My week has felt like a train wreck. Thank you for letting me vent!

A Couple of Sunday Stealings … just because Curious as a Cat & Cookie Question Curious as a Cat Hi! I'm your host Bev Sykes of the blog "Funny the World…

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maxwellyjordan · 4 years ago

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SCOTUS spotlight: Tom Goldstein on ‘hitting singles’ as an oral advocate

Tom Goldstein, the publisher of SCOTUSblog and partner at Goldstein & Russell, P.C., has argued more than 40 cases before the Supreme Court since his first oral argument in 1999. On this week’s episode of SCOTUStalk, Amy Howe interviews Goldstein on what it’s like to advocate before the nine and how that experience has changed over the past 20 years. Goldstein offers a few tips for success along with audio-accompanied stories about taking heavy fire from a hot bench, joking with Chief Justice William Rehnquist and joining a case at the last minute.

Listen on Spotify | Acast

Full transcript below the jump:

[00:00:00] Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!

[00:00:03] Amy Howe: This is SCOTUStalk. A non-partisan podcast about the Supreme Court for lawyers and non-lawyers alike brought to you by SCOTUSblog.

[00:00:13] AH: Welcome to SCOTUStalk. I’m Amy Howe. Thanks for joining us. We are continuing today our series on Supreme Court advocacy, and we are delighted to have with us the co-founder of SCOTUSblog, and my husband, Tom Goldstein, who will argue his 44th case at the Supreme Court in October. Tom, thanks for joining us.

Tom Goldstein: Thanks for having me.

AH: So, you have been arguing you argued your first case before the Supreme Court in 1999—

TG: Just a couple of years ago.

[00:00:44] AH: A couple of years ago.

[00:00:45] AH: How has your approach to oral argument changed over time?

[00:00:52] TG: Well it’s changed pretty radically. Putting aside arguing in the pandemic, I think that oral arguments now and in 1999 are pretty similar but my understanding of them has changed radically. When I first started out my goal really was to persuade every justice on every question in the case and I’ve come to understand that that’s completely impossible. And I have much more modest goals for oral argument, and I’m just, I think, much more attuned to what individual justices are concerned about and might you might accomplish at oral argument.

[00:01:25] AH: So, tell us a little bit about your first oral argument. I was there.

[00:01:29] TG: You were there. I was amazing. We got destroyed, I think is the way of thinking about it. It was a case in an opinion by Justice Thomas. It was a very tiny, little civil procedure case, and I had, you know, gotten ready on every conceivable question, and I really felt at the time that I was extraordinary. The justices disagreed apparently because we lost nine to nothing. But that’s one of those cases where I went in and I had all of these new ideas and other things that I thought about and sweeping things that all of the court could agree on and all that they could agree on was the fact that I lost.

[00:02:09] AH: It reminds me of the joke—and I don’t know whether—it’s the story. I don’t know whether it’s apocryphal or not but where John Roberts when he was in private practice called up a client to tell him that he had lost nine nothing. And John Roberts was asked why did we lose nine nothing? And the response was because there were only nine justices.

[00:02:30] TG: Yeah. The advantage that client had is that they had John Roberts at least.

AH: Walk us through your preparation in the weeks leading up to the oral argument. How many moot courts do you do? When do you do them? Do you practice your answers to certain questions?

[00:02:45] TG: Well it can depend a little bit on the case. It can depend a little bit on what else is happening. So, for example, I’ve argued twice in the same sitting before, and I honestly got very concerned that I was going to confuse the two cases. And so I did more meet courts for those than I usually do. It can depend a little bit on strange situations like the pandemic. And so we have a lot of new things that I’m trying out with respect to that, but ordinarily I’m doing three moot courts starting at about 10 days out. Now there are other things that can happen. For example, if we are the petitioner side, before we will file the reply brief I’ll do a moot court then too. And the point of that isn’t actually to get ready for oral argument. It is to press us to really best articulate and defend our position before we finalize and file the reply brief. But what we’ll try and do is put together groups of people who have real Supreme Court experience. So, the Georgetown program does this better than anyone and get them to act like the justices do. If you sometimes do moot courts with, for example, academics, they’ll just have their famous favorite academic theory of the case. And if you do it with lawyers who don’t have a lot of Supreme Court experience, they’ll think their job is just to be jerks because they have this vision of Supreme Court oral argument as just being really nasty, and it’s not at all. So, we depend a lot on other people in the bar and we do a lot of moot courts for them too.

[00:04:15] AH: How much of an opening statement do you draft and do you memorize it?

[00:04:26] TG: Well, before the court changed its rule so that you had a kind of guaranteed amount of time to talk, I would create an opening statement if I was the petitioner’s lawyer and I would mostly memorize it—not entirely. Now, you definitely do that for both sides because you know you know you’re going to have this uninterrupted time. But for the respondent, I tend to be much more flexible because I really want the beginning to reflect what’s happened in the first 30 or so minutes. There are people like Paul Clement who have a memorized full on opening statement for both sides including the respondent side, and they stick to it. I tend to adapt a little bit more but you know if Paul Clement does something you should do that instead.

[00:05:10] AH: Speaking to Paul Clement, Paul Clement does not take any notes after the lectern with him. Do you take anything?

[00:05:16] TG: I don’t. And it’s not because you know I have some better special command of what’s going on at oral argument. It’s because I was just never looking at it, and it was a little bit of a crutch and a little bit of a distraction. And I suppose I think it exudes a little bit greater confidence in your case if you stand out without any notes. So, I’m trying to figure out how to tell the justices over the phone that I don’t have any notes in front of me—when we do it for the pandemic.

[00:05:45] AH: I think you just did.

TG: There you go. I’m sure they listen to us.

AH: They’re listening.

TG: Absolutely.

[00:05:50] AH: Supreme Court is known as a hot bench. So, you can get a lot of questions. What do you do when you have a justice whose vote, you know, probably isn’t in play or definitely isn’t in play, but they’re really badgering you with questions?

[00:06:07] You really could have situations, Justice Scalia would be the most famous one, who someone would just, like, grab you by the throat and not let go. And if you know that their vote is not in play and the point that they are making is not in play, then sometimes you just have to say, “I’ve given you the best answer I can. Thank you.” And then they’ll stop. Now, there are other times where the justice is not in play, but the issue is important. And then you just have to—you may have to sit and fight with them. Or, the best strategy of all, I think if somebody is really bombarding you, is to be able to say, “Look, if you believe that, here’s why you still vote for me.” You’re not—one of the things that’s important to recognize about Supreme Court oral arguments is that the justices are so prepared they have relatively few actual questions. They’re making points. And what you have to do with someone is if they have a point, you’ve got to be able to say to them, “Okay, I accept your point or assuming arguendo your point, here’s why I still win.” But there are times where somebody’s vote is absolutely essential, they absolutely disagree with you, and you have to lay down on the tracks and fight with them.

[00:07:13] And that happened for me in a case called Georgia v. Randolph, where Justice Souter, who obviously has since retired, was really, really, really kind of negative about our position and thought that we were making their precedents into silly cases, he said. And I had to try and turn him around because it was a case that was if we were going to win, we were going to win five to four. It was one of these Fourth Amendment search and seizure cases that was going to break down on ideological lines.

[00:07:43] AH: Here’s that exchange. This is Tom Goldstein and Justice David Souter in Georgia v. Randolph.

[begin oral argument audio]

[00:07:48] Justice David Souter: It is clear that Matlock, had he known what was going on, and he may have, I don’t know, would have objected? So that if we accept your argument that the presence of the person they’re expressing an objection is what makes the difference, then Matlock and Rodriguez become almost silly cases. They’re cases that rest upon an assumption that is clearly contrary to fact.

[00:08:14] TG: No, Justice Souter, and that is the government has argued, and this court has accepted again, and this is a different point, and that is you have to have a clear line for police officers that is administrable. And the line that is reflected in Matlock and Rodriguez is if you get consent to come into the house from someone who has the common authority to do so, that will be sufficient. But that doesn’t mean that if some and so you don’t have to go around and finding other people and asking other people, it’s just as if you showed up at a house and you were invited in, you wouldn’t say, well, let me check with everybody else.

[00:08:49] JDS: But an equally clear line would simply be that if the area to be searched is one of common tenancy or occupation or whatnot, the only consent that will suffice will be the consent of the person against whom you expect to use any evidence found. Easy, clear line.

[00:09:07] TG: It’s true, Justice Souter. There are a lot of possible clear lines. What I’m describing to you is why the difference between Matlock and this case is one in kind, and that is that Matlock, I think, reflects an administrable rule. And that is if you do have permission from someone who has the authority to admit you, you don’t have to go ask anybody else.

[00:09:26] JDS: Okay, but an equally administrable rule here is that even though the person you suspect objects, you can still go in if a person with authority otherwise says you can. Equally clear rule, and it has one advantage. It does not turn Matlock and Rodriguez into silly cases.

[00:09:47] TG: Justice Souter. I don’t think they’re silly cases. I think that it is an important rule that the police show up and they are able to rely if they only hear from one person, they’re able to rely on that person. I don’t—I’m not claiming that our rule has great administrative advantages over the other side. What I’m saying is that it is not necessary to sacrifice the individual’s privacy.

[end oral argument audio]

[00:10:08] AH: Have you seen any examples where you think that oral argument made a real difference in the outcome of a case?

[00:10:15] TG: I suppose that I think in about one out of every 10 or 15 cases, oral argument can change the outcome in a significant way. It really has to be a situation where the court is five to four coming into oral argument, and you persuade one of the five to switch sides. So even if justices are persuaded more often, like in a seven-to-two case or an eight-to-one case, you know, it won’t change who wins or loses.

[00:10:40] TG: I think I’ve been involved in a case where I, you know, maybe did persuade our fifth vote. I had a case called Patel where I only came in to do the argument a couple of weeks before it happened. I wasn’t involved in the briefing of the case. And I kind of had a new take, a new precedent that I thought was very, very compelling in a kind of new, more modest position for our side. And it really did seem to change Justice Kennedy’s mind. I talked about this opinion, and then while I was talking about it, you could see that he got one of the messengers to go and get the book. And he was reading the opinion during the oral argument, and it ended up being very significant to the case.

[00:11:28] AH: Here’s Tom in City of Los Angeles v. Patel discussing the new precedent.

[begin oral argument audio]

[00:11:36] Justice Anthony Kennedy: The complexity of the answers, and frankly, the surprise I had with some of your answers may indicate that this is not a basis for a facial and not a case for a facial attack. It seems to me we had to go back and decide these issues on a case-by-case basis.

[00:11:51] TG: Well, Justice Kennedy, I’ll give you my responses to that, obviously. And that is that the court in all of the Colonnade line of cases and Camara cases has dealt with things on a categorical basis. It has never done it on a case-by-case basis because it has looked at the structure of the scheme. That is, this is a scheme where they’re not going to have any reason. They don’t need any justification to come in. We know what they can see. It’s still limited, right? It’s a particular record, but they can do it any time. And in that kind of scheme, what the court has consistently insisted on and I hope that the court will take a look at Lone Steer, is that there would be this minimum of a subpoena process I’m just describing.

[end oral argument audio]

[00:12:27] TG: And then I also had a case where the other side, it also involved Justice Kennedy. Justice Kennedy essentially begged the lawyer for the other side to say that they really did have a live dispute with my client, Nike, and he just stood on principle and said, “No, no, we don’t.” And ended up, he ended up losing the case. And four justices wrote a concurring opinion saying, we just really wish that the side had said it had a live dispute, and they would have won the case. And so, you know, it was an example, I think, of where someone, by sticking to principle, may well have cost themselves the win.

[00:13:07] AH: And here’s Already v. Nike, in which you can hear the justices asking the respondent’s lawyer to assert that there is a live dispute.

[begin oral argument audio]

[00:13:16] Justice Stephen Breyer: No, I’m not interested in the real world. I’m interested in the record.

[00:13:17] James W. Dabney: The record does not show that the petitioner lacks any concrete interest in entering the line of commerce.

[00:13:31] JSB: Does it show anything at all in respect that would support the claim that you are going to produce new footwear that does neither resembles nor is a colorable imitation of anything that you have previously produced or is the subject of the case?

[00:13:48] JWD: Your Honor, what the record shows and it is what it is, is that the petitioner is actively engaged in designing and bringing out new footwear products.

JSB: Period.

[end oral argument audio]

[00:14:05] AH: You’ve been arguing at the Supreme Court for a long time now, and you usually seem pretty comfortable before the justices. How do you feel about humor when you’re arguing before the justices?

[00:14:19] TG: Well, I’m obviously hilarious, but I think that you have to be incredibly careful because you don’t want to do anything that suggests that you think that oral argument is about you or you’re more clever than anybody. The best thing I think you can do is just be the straight man. Let them be hilarious and recognize it, and it’ll go much more smoothly.

Justice Scalia was probably the funniest of the justices. Justice Breyer sometimes will crack a few jokes. They tend to be pretty serious about their jobs. I do remember in one of my very earliest oral arguments, I had an exchange with the chief justice about how it is that the Ninth Circuit had ruled against our side in the case, and it was a time in which the Supreme Court was really, really down on the Ninth Circuit, was summarily reversing them left and right and, you know, had become very, very frustrated with that particular court of appeals a lot at the time. And it was just one of those times where you just kind of loft a softball in front of the justice and let them hit it out of the park.

[00:15:26] AH: And this was a while ago. So let me make clear, it was Chief Justice William Rehnquist, who was not necessarily known toward the end of his time on the bench for his sense of humor.

TG: No, he was a really serious guy.

AH: Here’s Tom in Los Angeles Police Department v. United Reporting with Chief Justice William Rehnquist.

[begin oral argument audio]

[00:15:48] Chief Justice William Rehnquist: How did the Ninth Circuit go about interpreting it, if there had been no state interpretation?

TG: Improvidently, I think is the first answer, but the—

[00:15:58] JWR: So what’s new?

[end oral argument audio]

[00:16:04] AH: How often do the facts of the case make a difference in the oral argument and the outcome of the case?

[00:16:10] TG: It’s not that often that you end up with a case where the facts are dispositive. The facts can be more important in oral argument than you would expect because the justices are very familiar with the law, but, you know, will be less familiar with the record in the particular dispute that’s in front of them. So, it can be really, really valuable to know that pretty cold because you’re filling in blanks. You’re doing what I call the principle of relative advantage.

You think you know, what do I know if this oral argument that justices don’t know? How am I not just repeating what’s in the briefs? And being really, really solid on the facts can do that. I had an early experience in a case called Smith, which was an age discrimination case where Justice Stevens was really, really interested in the facts. And I just was not able to give him the answers that he needed or that would persuade him. And this is one of those cases where you win but lose, because we got a really important legal ruling in the case. But Justice Stevens wrote an opinion that says, okay, here’s our legal rule. Now your clients lose under it.

[00:17:23] AH: Here’s Tom Goldstein and Justice John Paul Stevens in Smith v. City of Jackson.

[begin oral argument audio]

[00:17:29] Justice John Paul Stevens: May I ask the question at this point, going really back to the question I asked you at the outset of the argument? If I thought seniority or years of service was a reasonable factor other than age, and if I thought this particular compensation program was based on years of service rather than age, can I look at the reasonable factor other than age in deciding whether your complaint states a cause of action?

TG: Yes. Hazen Paper established that that is not.

JJPS: And if I do look at it and if I do come to the conclusion I have suggested, would I not have to dismiss your complaint?

[00:18:02] TG: I may misunderstand the hypothetical, Justice Stevens.

JJPS: The hypothetical, and I think it may be the case, that you have a compensation program which uses years of service as a basis for classifying employees, which has a disparate impact on older workers, but it does also it relies squarely on a reasonable factor other than age, if you will call years of service such a factor.

[00:18:24] TG: Yes, that’s perfectly legitimate that as I understand the hypothetical—

JSB: Suppose I want—

JJPS: I understand that to be the case.

[00:18:32] TG: No, it would not, because the rationale given by the employer here for… Let me take us to the facts and then the explanation that’s given by the employer. What happened here is they gave all of the line police officers much bigger raises than they gave to the more senior officers. That and the difference in pay between protected persons under the ADA and non-protected persons was four standard deviations, a 1 in 10,000 chance, statisticians will tell you. And they said—

JJPS: No, but the basis for differentiation was years of service, was it not?

[00:19:04] TG: The basis for differentiation was years of service. But the question is, is it a reasonable choice by the employer in this context? And the reason is that it’s a

JJPS: Well, I’m just asking in the abstract. Why wouldn’t that always be a reasonable factor other than age?

TG: I apologize. So I think I answered your hypothetical too broadly. And that is, it depends. In the great majority of cases, employers certainly can say, I want to give a class of employees more money. Perfectly sensible. Congress didn’t intend to block that. But the question is, is this outside the usual set of cases? And the city’s explanation for this policy, which was to give the line cops more money, but not the rest of the cops who happen to be all over 40, was that they wanted to bring the salary up to a regional average. And so we asked the question, does this accomplish that in a reasonable way? And it does not because they left out huge categories of employees.

[00:19:59] JJPS: But the factor… If I understand it, it wasn’t because they were line officers, it was rather because they had a lesser years of service than the more senior officer.

[00:20:05] TG: No.

JJPS: No.

TG: That is not the facts here. That’s right. They did not say we are going to give pay raises to the people who have lesser years of service because we’re concerned about their pay. To the contrary. Let me take you to one piece of the record that I think will be helpful.

[end oral argument audio]

[00:20:20] AH: What are some of your favorite stories from your time at oral argument?

[00:20:24] TG: You know, the arguments sometimes have surprising twists or just things that you would never expect to happen. One of those was a case in which we were the second oral argument. And before oral arguments, when the court is in person, they do the opinion announcements. And so you sit there, they admit people to the bar and they read summaries of their rulings. And I was arguing this very important telecommunications case. And weirdly, the court issued an opinion that morning that was completely unrelated, may have had to do with, I don’t know, Native American law or something like that. But the structure of the two statutes was very similar. So they summarized the opinion and we are the second oral argument. While the first one is going on, I left the courtroom. I went downstairs to the public information office. I got the opinion and read it and highlighted and those sorts of things—got kind of familiar with it. I didn’t know anything about the case beforehand, then went back up. And during the oral argument, in my case, about two thirds of the way through started discussing the opinion that they had issued 30 minutes before. You could just tell that they were thought that was obviously unusual, but kind of enjoyed it. And I think it probably made a difference in Justice Ginsburg’s vote in that one case so that we only lost six to three rather than seven to two.

[00:22:00] AH: This is Tom in National Cable and Telecommunications Association v. Brand X.

[begin oral argument audio]

[00:22:06] TG: Who in the world would ever do it? If it’s up to the regulated entity, why in the world would anyone provide common carriage? I think this has actually a remarkable parallel to the court’s decision in the Oneida Indian Nation case, where the court rejected the suggestion that what you could do is that it would be up to the Indians to decide whether or not they would be able to get property back. This is what the court said, “If OIN may unilaterally reassert sovereign control and remove those parcels from the local tax rolls, little would prevent the tribe from initiating a new generation of litigation to free the parcels.” Remember, they’re free from all regulation, not free the parcels from land zoned local zoning or other regulatory controls to protect all landowners in the area. And then Justice Ginsburg’s opinion goes on to talk about Section 465, which is exactly like section 10 forbearance. “Recognizing these practical concerns, Congress has provided a mechanism for the acquisition of the lands. The regulations implementing section 465 are sensitive to the complex interjurisdictional concerns that arise when a tribe seeks to regain sovereign control over territory. The secretary must consider…”—and it lists a whole series of things. And the parallel, I think, is exact. You can’t have Congress enacting a scheme that tells you how to do it.

[end oral argument audio]

[00:23:18] AH: What advice would you give to somebody who’s arguing before the Supreme Court for the first time?

[00:23:23] TG: I think when you argue the first time. you can get overly ambitious. You can try and learn everything about everything. And you need to really focus, not lose the forest for the trees, really try and understand what’s really likely to come up at oral argument and be good at that. Then don’t try and accomplish too much. Really be thinking, okay, I think there are probably a couple of key points and a couple of key justices and just try and be persuasive on those things. I think you can really spread yourself too thin and get too ambitious in an oral argument and as a result end up not persuading anybody of anything. I really try during the oral argument to listen to the questions as if their statements of position and over the course of the argument figure out, okay, here are one or two justices who are genuinely interested and might change their minds and here the topics that really interest them and focus like a laser beam on that.

[00:24:22] AH: Think small. In other words.

[00:24:23] TG: Yeah, exactly right. Think small. I think there was a huge tendency by me at the beginning, at the very least, to think really, really, really big. And you’re playing small ball. You’re trying to hit singles, not home runs.

[00:24:34] AH: Tom Goldstein, thanks for joining us. And we look forward to hearing or seeing you at oral argument in Google vs. Oracle on October 7th in whatever format that takes place.

TG: Thanks so much for having me.

[00:24:49] AH: That’s another episode of SCOTUStalk. Thanks for joining us. Thanks to CaseText, our sponsor, and to our production team, Katie Barlow, Katie Bart, Kal Golde, and James Romoser.

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