#and it impressed upon me yet again how impressive lincoln was to put up with all these guys

[fictionadventurer]

The more I learn about Civil War politics, the more I'm convinced that Lincoln's most impressive and useful leadership trait was that he never let his pride get in the way of doing his job.

Other people in Lincoln's position would have come to Washington with something to prove. They'd have resented the insults and tried to disprove them. They'd have tried to seize power and credit, rejected help, spent a lot of time trying to reach a certain level of respect.

Lincoln's response to, "You're just a backwoods lawyer with no executive experience who makes too many dumb jokes," was pretty much always, "Yeah. And?" He had no interest in petty personal power plays. He had a country to run. There was a war on. It didn't matter what people thought of him so long as the job got done.

He was aware of his personal shortcomings and was always willing to accept advice and help from people who had more knowledge and experience in certain areas. He presided over a chaotic Cabinet full of abrasive personalities who thought they were better and smarter than him, but he kept working with them because they could get the job done. For example: Stanton was absolutely horrible to him when they were both working as lawyers. Just incredibly mean on a personal level. But when Lincoln needed someone to replace Cameron, he swallowed his pride and appointed Stanton as Secretary of War, where Stanton proceeded to be mean to everyone in the world, but he whipped that department into shape and kept it running efficiently through a very chaotic war. Pretty much no one except Lincoln would have been able to put up with that. He could put up with people who were personally difficult if they could do the job he needed them to do--which he was only able to do because his own ego didn't get in the way.

Lincoln's example is a prime demonstration of how humility isn't underrating yourself--it's being so secure in your own abilities and identity that you don't need to attack anyone or defend yourself to prove your worth. He knew his shortcomings, but he also knew his strengths. He was willing to give other people credit for successes and take blame upon himself for failures if it kept things running smoothly. He was secure enough in his own power that he could deal generously--but firmly--with people who tried to undermine him. In a city full of huge egos, in a profession that rewards puffed-up pride, that levelheaded humility is an extremely rare trait--which is what made it so impressive and effective.

[cherrywoes]

ii. come with me, destroy the masses.

tw (general): graphic descriptions of blood, gore, sexual content, violence, homicide, physical torture, psychological torture, rape, dubcon, drugs, overdosing, suicide, cannibalism (brief desc/mention), knife play, wax play, dacryphilia, sadism, masochism, bdsm, corsetry, human trafficking, drug trafficking, oral fixation, thigh kink, stocking fetish, food play (and more to be named.) tw (this chapter): stabbing with knitting needles, mention of oral sex, mentions of displaying heads upon mantles, blood, gore, etc.

“MAMA, YOU LOOK like you were drowned in a river and left to dry out in the sun,” were the first words that Akamine Jun’ichi said to you when you exited the prison facility with a grace only you could have afforded. He was dressed to impress in a two piece suit, the back panels hanging a few inches lower than normal and fluttering in the slight breeze. His hair, dyed to such a blue fluorescence that it was almost too bright, had been grown long, longer than you had seen him last, and now framed his face in feathery layers with the rest tied to the top of his head in a messy knot that was almost stylish. The hair pin he’d shoved through it was just a little bit too ostentatious, but he wouldn’t be Jun’ichi if he wasn’t the least bit over extravagant. You observed him with an amused half-smile upon your lips, eyes darting down to the gold rimming the seams of his expensive dress shoes and the gold plated spikes embedded in the back heel. “Ah, or should I have said your beauty has not faded a day since you went in?”

“Oh, you know I hate dishonesty,” you tutted, reaching up and patting his cheek condescendingly. He leaned into it slightly and you smiled knowingly, withdrawing your hand before a crimson blush could make its way up his cheeks and fluster him. Where Nao was like your child, Jun’ichi was your doting husband, always quick to defend you and flourish at your side—you could always count on him to have your best interests at heart. While easily flustered by any smidgen of affection you gave him, he was quick to recover, clearing his throat and giving your mundane sweatpants and shirt a cursory once over. You sighed and lamented,”They burned my clothes when they were done using them as evidence. That was an expensive pair of Louboutins I lost; I’d rather like another pair of them.”

“As you wish.” Jun’ichi bowed slightly at the waist, almost mockingly, but you adored him for his candor. He plucked a new cell phone from his coat pocket and handed it to you with a flourish. When you raised a fairly bushy and unplucked eyebrow, he said, carefully,“Your last phone was… a bit outdated, [Name]-sama.”

You scowled at the dark screen of the Samsung. Technology had advanced while you were rotting away in a cell block, that was for certain. A quick press of a short button on the side sent you to a home screen; from there it was easy enough to figure it out, though you didn’t like change. You much preferred your flip phones and old burners compared to the pricey piece of technology in your hand; it was fragile and felt like it could break easily. You examined the lavender casing on the back and the three cameras in the top left corner, eyes narrowing in displeasure.

“Fine.” Tucking it away into the waistband of your pants, as there were no pockets to be had, you fixed him with an irritated stare. “But we need to make several stops before I’ll feel like myself again. You haven’t emptied the coffers while I was away, have you?”

Jun’ichi laughed lightly. “No, I merely filled them. You may take a look at your account on your phone if you like.”

When you glowered at him at the mention of the phone, he looked away.

“Perhaps not,” he mumbled, as an afterthought. In an effort to draw your attention away from the shiny new toy he had bought you, he said,”So, to the salon? Your hair looks very unhealthy.”

“No, the seamstress.” You reached up and plucked the collar of your cotton and polyester t-shirt with a grimace. It was cheaply made and something you wouldn’t have been caught dead in if you had a choice; you much preferred silks and pure cotton and the comfort of a nicely pressed pantsuit or jumpsuit. “Mixed fabrics make me itch.”

“Of course.” He gestured for a car idling at the curb of the police station. You watched the sleek black Lincoln pull out and begin to drive towards you, your eyes flicking over the shiny new finish and the dealership plates still screwed into the front plate. The driver was unrecognizable to you, with his hair buzzed short and a plain black suit to match his unassuming appearance. He wore sunglasses as well and you attempted to peer past them, but found it worthless to do so. You trusted Jun’ichi to vet the staff properly, and if he didn’t, you would have his head—whether it was between your legs or on your mantle was his decision to make. He was lovely at apologies, but you weren’t in the mood to deal with another betrayal—Nao’s already stung quite considerably and your temper would flare if you had another. You hoped his teeth were sitting on your desk, waiting for you to admire them: the gold caps had been quite nice and you were debating having the diamonds embedded in a dog collar so you could leash it around his throat and walk him around in public and within your manor just to humiliate him a little more. He hadn’t cried when you had pulled out his teeth, but maybe he would at the thought of public humiliation. He always was sensitive to his image.

Your parents would be so disappointed that you forewent the traditional Yakuza punishments. It was a pity they were too dead to see the empire you had built from their ashes.

“Did Nao return to the manor?” You inquired as Jun’ichi opened the door for you politely. He hummed in an indication for you to elaborate, hand pausing on the door and the other held aloft to help you into the cabin. “Did he put his teeth on my desk like I asked him to?”

“Ah.” Your advisor grimaced, as if imagining the pain his subordinate had gone through himself. He was always the sympathetic one, even if you forbid him from doing anything to help the people you punished. “Yes, he did. By the cup of red pens, I believe.”

With a curt nod of satisfaction, you stepped into the cabin and allowed the door to shut behind you. It was a luxurious car, of that you were certain, the leather soft and buttery and surprisingly real. Faux leather was disappointingly common in most cars you had purchased, even from luxury dealers like Mercedes and Lamborghini. You ran a finger down the seam of stitching on a corner, watching the flesh of your thumb catch on them as you went. You ignored the bustling city in favor of examining the car, uninterested in the changes that had occurred in the time you had been incarcerated. You were eager to return to your throne and get back to work; after all, no one ran the underworld quite as well as you did. You trusted Jun’Ichi to keep things stable, but he was soft and malleable, a trait you should have beaten out of him years ago; but you had needed that softness during that time in your life, and while it wasn’t a regret, it was a mistake you acknowledged with your heart.

You pulled your new phone out of your waistband with a tired sigh. You felt you could do with a few hours of sleep in a proper bed with satin sheets and a weighted duvet, but there was work to be done that couldn’t wait a second longer. Ten years was too long to be out of the game. You had meddled in affairs, of course, but you had never been able to get to the full extent of your former power while you were trapped in that prison. Now that you were free, there would be several people who would pay dearly for what they had done to you—but first, you had to lay low. Your release had been a secret thanks to hush money paid to several media outlets and cops, of which you had no doubt paid a small fortune for. You didn’t want rats scattering back into their hidey holes and popping back out to be menaces when you least expected it.

Before you could explore the features of your sparkling new touch screen phone, a call came through. The contact icon was blank and only displayed a gradient of color, but you recognized the number typed into the contact name well enough.

“Swipe right to answer it,” Jun’ichi offered helpfully.

You frowned and did as he said, holding the phone up to your ear and hoping you didn’t accidentally press something wrong. You were rewarded with an excited yell on the other line.

“Lǎo bǎn niáng!” You pressed your lips together at the term but did nothing to correct it. “You’re out of prison! I was wondering when you would finally get out; I’ve missed you over the years.”

You could practically hear the pout in Huang Jinhai’s voice when he spoke. The man was over fifty years old, yet he still acted as if he was a sulky teenager, which wasn’t much of a change since the last time you had spoken to him. The prison didn’t allow you to collect calls from China, citing you were a ‘risk’, so you never spoke to him as often as you got to with your own syndicate, which wasn’t often at all. “Shū fù, you know as well as I do that they would never allow me to call you. It is nice to hear your voice, though.”

Jun’ichi caught your eye in the rearview mirror. You scowled at him and jerked your head to indicate he should look forward and away from you.

“Ah, I can hear the lie in your voice even over the phone.” You repressed a sigh at the sniffle you heard over the line, turning your head and knocking it against the window. “But that’s an issue for another day. I had a gift sent to your manor house when your lieutenant told me you would be released—I think you’ll love it when you see it.”

A flash of color caught your eye. You turned to look out the window, holding the phone slightly askew from your face. “You know I don’t like surprises.”

“But you’ll like this one, I think.” He laughed. “Knowing how you are, you’re eager to get back to work, so I’ll let you go.”

You hung up before he could take you on another tangent. While you loved your uncle, he could be a bit much, even for you at times. The fact that he had somehow gotten a ‘surprise’ into your manor was interesting, however; his last surprise had been a very crude rendition of a Jackson Pollock painting, however it had been all over your bedroom and in blood and various entrails you weren’t keen on identifying at the time. He was never one to do things in halves, your uncle, so whatever surprise he had gotten you was doubtless something to be wary of.

By the time you had thought through all of the possible things he could have done to your home, you had arrived at the seamstress’ home. It was a small thing nestled between family owned bars and shops catered to foreigners, and in a shady enough area as well. There were thugs crawling around every corner, some from syndicates you knew and some that you did not—several hosted fairly visible tattoos of panthers on their arms, exposed by short sleeved shirts and wife beaters that looked to have seen better days. While they weren’t clean, per se, they appeared well taken care of and the stains on their shirts were old blood or sake stains. Their shoes denoted a fairly well off syndicate as well, cleaner and fancier than their clothes; their jewelry as well, the same panther motif hanging from gold or silver chains or even studs in their ears.

“I see you’ve let interlopers into our midst,” you noted quietly. Your fingers began tapping a rhythm on the window button, counting each panther you saw on the street. You could see Jun’ichi stiffen in the front seat, leather creaking under the sudden shift in weight. The driver paid no mind to it and waited for you to either step out of the car or deal with Jun’ichi while he still sat in the front seat, in the perfect position for you to rip the drawstring from your pants and slide it around his throat and choke him with it. Sliding your fingers off of the button and to your phone, you idly checked the time and glanced at the driver, still silent. “Your failure will not go unpunished. For now, I think, I don’t want to keep the seamstress waiting.”

You leaned forward and snatched the sunglasses off of the driver’s face. You saw his eyelashes flutter in surprise as you were setting them upon your own nose, hooking them behind your ears. When you were satisfied with how you appeared, you stepped out of the car. You didn’t wait for Jun’ichi to follow you; you didn’t trust yourself not to force him to his knees and beat him with his own belt buckle for his indiscretion. There were too many panthers roaming the streets for your taste; they likely reported to someone within the area and your low profile would be blown far too soon.

The inside of the seamstress’ home was quaint and humble. Littered with silks and numerous fabrics, it was a mess of chaotic order, and there were several needles within grabbing distance with enough length to puncture through someone’s eye and into their skull. You picked one up as Jun’ichi squeezed through the door behind you, pressing the sharp tip to your finger and watching a bead of blood well up from the slightest pressure. Other than Jun’ichi’s breathing and your contemplative hum, the house was quiet besides the settling of the wooden support beams and rustling of fabric from somewhere deeper within.

“So the Monster of Tokyo returns,” a wizened, cracked voice sussured. Nestled in the darkest of corners and between large bolts of fabric, Fushimi Chinatsu looked up from her complex knitting pattern with a smile and the corners of her eyes crinkling. Her needles snapped together with a metallic clack, the yarn discarded into a small basket hidden near her feet. She stood slowly, the sound of her bones protesting the only other audible noise in the room, her spine bowed and her neck hunched. She wore a humble outfit of a skirt and a modern graphic t-shirt that was slightly too-large to accommodate the scoliosis in her spine, looking entirely out of place among the yards of silk and lace. Other than her dark, beady eyes and silver hair, Chinatsu was every bit the grizzled ex-Oyabun that you recalled her being. As she drew closer into the light of the windows facing the road, a tattoo of a spiraling dragon and white koi came into view, once hidden by the shadows. “I wondered when you would finally one-up those dicks playing law and order.”

“Fushimi-sama,” you greeted her cordially, the smallest of smiles on your face. “It’s good to see you.”

She laughed, an inhuman cackle that had the hairs on your arms and neck standing on end. “And it’s good to see I can still tell when you’re lying. Don’t worry, [Name]-chan, your secret is safe with me—I have a few more years in me before I hit the grave.”

“I’m surprised you’re still alive.” Slowly, you put the large needle back where it had been laying. Chinatsu watched your movements like a hawk, dark gaze following your hand as it moved away from the needles to pluck at samples of fabric lying beside it. “I would have thought you’d be dead by the time I got out.”

“By natural causes or by my brother-in-law?” She remarked snidely. When you gave her a loose shrug and a quick raise of your eyebrows, she snorted. “Either is likely at this point. But I don’t think you’re here to discuss my death, Akamine-sama, unless I’ve done something to slight you in the past?”

“No, you’re right.” You examined a sample embroidered with cranes and white lotuses; for a kimono, most likely, with the quality of the fabric. “I’m here for new suits. In the same style as usual, of course, and with payment in full.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Chinatsu was deceptively calm as she lifted a spool of crimson red thread and an equally as livid vermillion silk to compare, holding them up for your inspection. You didn’t miss the slight tremble of her hands as she did so. “I believe a red suit would be in style, no?”

“That would be perfect.” You picked the needle back up and twirled it across your knuckles and between your fingers. “But first, I need to take care of some business. You’ll understand, won’t you?”

You reached back and yanked Jun’ichi forward by his tie. Not expecting the sudden show of force, he fell to his knees, the wood groaning under his weight and the sudden movement. You barely detected the splintering of a singular board beneath his knee. His eyes went wide as you grasped his hands and placed them together in a mockery of prayer.

“Akamine-sama…” Chinatsu tutted. “Prison seems not to have blunted your blade.”

The needle punctured through Jun’ichi’s palms with one quick, precise thrust. There was a momentary pop as it broke through a joint and ligament in his palm. He didn’t scream—your men never screamed—but he did let out a strangled breath at the needle jutting out of his hands, pinning his palms together in front of his face. You had avoided anything purposefully crippling, but blood streamed down his wrists and disappeared into his suit sleeves regardless.

After a moment of consideration, you patted his cheek mockingly and turned your back on him. Then, you turned and pointed to the steadily growing puddle of blood between his knees and underneath his hands, giving Chinatsu an inquiring look.

“Can I get that shade of red?”

i. i wish i could say i'm sorry. | masterlist. | iii. speak my name, tremble with fear.

taglist (open):

[misssophiachase]

I’m back, hope you liked the first part! You can read from the beginning on AO3 and FF. 

Synopsis: She skipped bail and he’s tasked to track her down. As a seasoned bounty hunter, it’s a fairly routine job on paper for Klaus Mikaelson but then he meets Caroline Forbes and has no idea what to do with her.

Thrill of the Chase - Part Two: Man Down

Cumberland County, TN, (Interstate 40) - Caroline

Karma was a bitch, currently disguised as a blown-out tire.

Caroline kicked it a few times in frustration but then stopped realising her heels weren't fully equipped to soften the blow.

"Mother chucker," she hissed, rubbing her sore foot.

Caroline decided then and there she was woeful at this whole ‘on the run’ lifestyle. Not only with her poor choice of footwear but the fact she had no spare tire, and even if she did, no jack to change it.

Only she would decide to skip her bail hearing and not complete the requisite checks required on the vehicle aiding and abetting her getaway from New York City. 

She could hear her idiot, car-obsessed ex-boyfriend berating her for not taking proper care of her convertible. Caroline figured she must have done it despite him. Unfortunately, her stubborn ability to hold a grudge had led her to this moment and he was clearly still tormenting her from afar. Ass.

It really wasn’t her day. Actually, who was she kidding? It wasn’t her year.

2.5 hours earlier

“How’s my little fugitive?” She’d asked after the call connected, while Caroline was still singing along with Rhianna about shooting a man down in Central Station.

“I’m fine,” she lied, turning down the music.

“Liar,” she countered. “I heard Rhianna, things must be desperate.”

“I’m getting into character,” she offered.

“This isn’t high school drama club, Care,” she sighed.

“What ever happened to you being the bad influence?” She growled. Katherine Pierce had been well renowned at their prep school on the Upper East Side for her questionable reputation. “I recall having to cover for you more than a few times.”

“For smoking in the girls’ toilets.”

“And the rest. I also seem to recall other less PG things happening in that bathroom too, Kitty Kat,” she laughed, despite everything else.

“Good times,” she chuckled. “So, where are you now?”

“Bristol.” For some reason, every time she crossed a state border, Caroline felt relieved. Like the more miles she put between herself and Manhattan the better.

“Welcome to Tennessee,” she squealed excitedly. “You’ll be here in Nashville with me before you know it.”

“Thankfully,” she murmured, pleased to see a familiar face. “But I can’t stay too long.”

“I know,” she drawled. “You’re a woman on a mission.”

“I promised,” she insisted.

“And, as your best friend, I know more about your ability to keep a promise than most. Please tell me we can get obscenely drunk before you go at least?”

“Are you kidding? We have so much time to make up for,” Caroline smiled. “And now that I’m a felon on the run who knows what I might do under the influence?” Katherine’s laughed intermingled with her own until she stopped suddenly and Caroline could already tell what she was going to say next.

“Do you think maybe you should have stayed and…”

“You are really killing my fugitive vibe, Pierce,” she interrupted. “I couldn’t stay there, you know that. I needed to get away, it was stifling and had been for a while.”

“Your father certainly has that suffocation gift down.”

“Lucky me,” she muttered. Katherine was responding but she was breaking up and difficult to decipher. “Kat, I can’t understand you.” She could hear her voice cutting in and out until the line went dead. 

As stupid as it sounded, Caroline really didn’t want to talk about him so it was probably good timing the cell reception dropped out when it did.

Although interstate 40 was a busy route, Caroline hadn’t seen many cars that time of the day. She’d noticed mile marker 337 not long before her tire blew out, interrupting her fugitive themed playlist in the process.

Now, here she was stranded and trying to get someone to pull over. Easy, right?

Although, wasn’t that how people were kidnapped and killed? That’s what her parents had drummed into her since she was young and although she was supposed to be rebelling against society it still didn’t feel right or safe.

Caroline winced thinking about her parents again. She’d already ignored their steady stream of calls since leaving New York and was too afraid to listen to her voicemail. She was fairly certain if Liz and Bill were disappointed in her after committing her crime they were royally pissed about her running away.

So, the fact her cell reception was non-existent was timely because her parents’ calls weren’t getting through but it also meant no calling for help hence her current predicament.

She decided to push aside every sensible thought and think about what would Thelma and Louise do? Well, besides that driving into the Grand Canyon part.

Caroline was madly trying to remember if general hitchhiker etiquette was to hold out a thumb or not. Pity she was wearing jeans otherwise she might have flashed a little leg like she’d seen in movies.

While inwardly arguing with herself, Caroline heard a loud crunch synonymous with tires on gravel.

The silver Lincoln was impressive looking but what she couldn’t get past was the person behind the wheel. 

Even wearing aviators, she could make out an enticing pair of crimson lips curved into a curious smile and untamed, dark blonde hair that curled over his ears teasingly. His black henley was open at the top, a few necklaces peeking out that were just begging to be pulled upon.

Looks like her Brad Pitt had arrived just in time. 

Caroline just hoped he wasn’t going to ask too many questions.

Klaus

Usually, when Klaus had to apprehend a skip it took a lot more than two hours but yet here she was standing on the roadside.

He had to open and close his eyes a few times to check they weren’t playing tricks on him. But here she was basically standing there waiting to be caught. His intel from Lucien was supposedly a reliable destination in Nashville but it looks like he wouldn’t need that anymore.

Klaus recognised her straight away given the picture his friend had sent through had been running through his mind ever since. One thing was for sure that her photo, albeit flawless, still didn’t do her justice.

Those fitted, dark jeans were showcasing a lithe pair of legs, her red and white striped tee highlighting her creamy skin and those golden waves were fanned out perfectly over her shoulders. And that was before he’d even studied her face of expressive, blue eyes with some kissable, pink lips.

Given Sex on Fire was blasting through his speakers, it seemed almost apt given the way his nether regions weren’t cooperating.

But Klaus was a professional and knew he had a job to do.

He still couldn’t believe he was doing this in the first place but Lucien had begged and pleaded. Lucien never did that. Ever.

2.5 hours earlier

“Even if I could help, you know Rebekah would murder me if I don’t...”

“Kol tells me the family reunion is in a week, you’ve got the time, mate.” Klaus balled up his fists remembering to kill his brother when he saw him. “

Who is it?”

“Excuse me?”

“This walk in the park? In and out, no trouble? Last time I checked that’s a little beneath my skill set, Castle.”

“Agreed but this case is special. I, uh, sort of know her father.” Klaus nearly swerved off the road given how unexpected that confession was.

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Klaus, please?” He pleaded. “Let’s just say he’s well-known in the city not to mention extremely powerful and can’t risk this getting out publicly.”

“So, let me get this straight,” he growled, his frustration growing. “You want me to chase down some rich, daddy’s little girl who decided to ruffle his feathers by getting arrested?”

“Well…”

“Wow,” he groaned. “Rebekah’s demand is suddenly not so bad.”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, Klaus,” he insisted. “And if you do this I’ll be in your debt. Any skip you want I'll get.” Klaus had to admit it was an enticing offer, especially given all of the revenge he could exact.

“Keep talking.”

“So, you’ll do it?”

“I want to know everything first,” he replied gruffly. “Who her father is and what the hell she did.”

When Lucien told her what Caroline Forbes had done he was surprised but another part of him was intrigued. Seeing her picture had done nothing to dampen his curiosity either.

Her father was a whole other story and Klaus was beginning to realise that she wasn’t just any other skip. She was a liability, an expose waiting to happen. No wonder he was hoping to keep it under wraps as long as possible.

Now, peering at her through his windshield, Klaus had to decide how he was going to handle this. Handle her.

Should he use the handcuffs or not? Should he identify himself from the outset or not? Was she a flight risk and more savvy than expected? Or was she just crying out for attention from daddy and would be compliant and come easily?

Klaus never had to question himself. He always worked on pure instinct and it had served him well in the past. Let's hope it did this time.

As he opened the car door and eased himself out from behind the wheel, Klaus knew was this certainly wasn’t going to be dull.

Soundtrack: Man Down (Rihanna) Sex on Fire (Kings of Leon)

[ademocrat]

What Homophobic Hell Will the GOP Unleash on a Gay Frontrunner?

If Pete wasn’t gay, I’d say with some confidence, that he could win the presidency.

Or, because Pete is gay, I could say that’s quite a differentiator, and with his impressive approach. he just might win the presidency.

ADVERTISING

Finally, I can’t say that it doesn’t matter that Pete is gay. Because it does, and it’s personal.

I’ve spent my entire life obsessed with politics, and was lucky, as most of you may know by now, to work in it for a while. Presidential elections are like another sport for me. I study the polls, know the candidates’ messages and platforms inside and out, watch the debates, the town halls, and all the political shows filled with punditry, i.e., Morning Joe, Deadline White House, The Situation Room, Inside Politics, and Hardball (I’ll stop there lest you think I don’t have a life). I read all the political columns and columnists.

So, what I’m about to write is not based on data, stats, polls or the pundits, so I don’t bore you with the wonkery of “inside baseball” factoids. The following thoughts come from the heart of a gay man, who happens to write a column, loves politics, and can name every president. Always could. When I was as young as six, my parents would call me down to recite them to guests during their dinner parties. I named them in order and with their middle initials. “You’re going to be president one day,” they always said. And at that age, I dreamed that I would.

Pete’s campaign has rekindled all the memories of my recitations — and scrapbooks — of the presidents. The letter recognizing my great-great grandmother’s 100th birthday auto-penned signed by Richard Nixon. I had the president’s autograph, even if I didn’t realize it wasn’t real. I devoured presidential biographies, written for kids, Meet George Washington, Meet Abraham Lincoln, Meet John F. Kennedy. My great-grandmother gave me her Franklin D. Roosevelt scrapbook, and all her political buttons that stretched back to Theodore Roosevelt. I treasured each artifact, each book, each newspaper clipping declaring “NIXON RESIGNS,” because the presidency was my destiny.

As a Catholic, I was young enough to know and comprehend that John F. Kennedy was the first person of my faith elected to the presidency. I was, and still am, fascinated with all things Kennedy. Which is why, when Senator Edward Kennedy, and President Kennedy’s daughter Caroline endorsed Barack Obama for president, I knew that he would go on to win, and become another first.

Now, here we are again, faced with another pioneer, and groundbreaker, Pete Buttigieg. He is making our community so proud. His message is clear and resonating. His demeanor calm and welcoming. His background stellar and reassuring. His pitch convincing and investing. He’s raising the money and his profile the way a good candidate should.

He has had early success in Iowa, giving him a big boast going forward. He’s come further than probably anyone of us expected. He’s still a long shot, but he is raising eyebrows, in a good way, and now the campaign heads into new regions, populaces, and mindsets.

As a leader in the primary, he has momentum, his poll numbers, while still trailing nationally, are inching up. And as he gains traction he also gets a target on his back. So, the real and new test for Buttigieg is about to begin. So far the other candidates and the media have questioned his youth and inexperience as a small town mayor. And they have not gone beyond those critiques. What lies ahead, if he picks up steam, is an untested excursion, not just for him, but for everyone in our community.  

After it was revealed that the congressman I worked for from blue-collar, southwestern Pennsylvania had a child-out-of-wedlock, our constituency shrugged it off. And they did so by telling him, “just as long as you’re not gay (the actual word was much more vulgar).” That stung, and still does.

The congressman used to say to me all the time, “Casey, when I retire, you can run for my seat.” But at that point, my childhood dreams of becoming president gave way to the cold, dark reality, that as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t possibly be elected in a district that didn’t accept the type of person that I was. And president? Would never happen in my lifetime.

Pete’s upcoming venture into the bible belt, the rust belt, the southern belt and beyond makes me wonder if that “as long as you’re not gay” attitude still persists? We saw a viral video of a horrified woman in Iowa rescind her caucus vote for Pete after she realized he was married to a man.

She’s not alone. “Scorched earth.” That’s the type of campaign that’s planned to be run by the Republican incumbent. God only knows what that entails, but I think we have a good idea. This ribald tactic will surely be adopted by the so-called base; a tear-down of anyone seeming to take the lead during the primary, and then vilification for the Democratic presidential nominee.

So what happens if Pete surges? His ascendency will surely test the breaking point of how far “scorched earth” will go to demonize Pete, his marriage and our community. The vitriol likely to increase as Pete’s support does too.

He’s a military veteran, so he can fight. And what does it say about me, or any of us, if we can’t help him in the battle that lies ahead? Isn’t it the most consequential election of our time? Exceptionally for our community? Aren’t we committed to supporting each other when one of us is breaking barriers? Especially, when that wall shattering is for the most powerful job in the world?

He needs all of us to get behind him, in the event that the opposition puts a bulls-eye on him — and us — and goes “scorched earth.” We need to stick together and fight with him. It’s not going to be easy. For him, or for us, if Pete pulls out a miracle.

Is it in his best interest to succeed, when ultimately, he might fail? And what does that say about me when I fear for his success? Or us, if we don’t honestly consider the pain his success might spill upon us? I’m excited for Pete. I’m scared for Pete. I’m excited for us. And I’m scared for us.

But we can’t sit back and be frightened, and we can’t let Pete fight this alone. So until he’s finished, I’ll root for Pete.

There’s an old adage, “bet with your head, not with your heart.” Am I betting on Pete? Not yet. But I am putting my heart behind him. And, I am going to live vicariously through Pete. He will do all that I fantasized about, read about, and pasted onto the pages of my scrapbook about. Maybe, because it was so far-fetched that it’s just my generation that understands the enormity of this moment? We’ve been accepted in the military. Our marriages are legal. It’s easy to think that the worst is behind us, when hypothetically, the worst — or the best — could be in front of us.

Who knows what the impending primary race will bring? And it’s way too early to forecast or confront the general election.

But fantastically, in a year from now, when someone calls on me to recite the 46 Presidents of the United States, I can proudly end my oration with Peter P.M. Buttigieg.

A boy can dream, can’t he?

John Casey is a PR professional and an adjunct professor at Wagner College in New York City, and a frequent columnist for The Advocate. Follow John on Twitter @johntcaseyjr.

[universe-us]

”Is this your final decision?” Akın heard a soft voice that could warm up his heart. ‘’Who is this?’’ He didn’t expect to be interrupted. He didn’t see anyone when he arrived here, or on his way here. He was not expecting anyone. He could not remember mentioning this idea to anyone. ‘’It doesn’t matter. Are you sure you want to do this?’’ the warm voice asked again. Akın slowly and carefully walked through the voice, right above the bridge, there was light. He climbed up to the bridge again and kept walking to see the creature closer. ‘’What do you want from me?’’ ‘’What do I want? Why would I want anything? I am your angel!’’ She pouted at Akın against his words. ‘’My angel?’’ Everything seemed clear now. As he walked closer to the light, he saw a small woman that looked like a fairy. She had blonde hair, yellow wings, and a wand in her hand. She looked like a fairy more than an angel. At this point, Akın couldn’t deny the truth. ‘’Yes, Akın. Your angel.’’ Angel’s expression turned more sad and pitiful when she saw Akın’s reaction. ‘’Are you sure you… Want to end your life?’’ The day had been such an emotional roller coaster for Akın. Now, there is a shining divine being standing right in front of him, questioning and pitying him. ‘’I-… I can not take it anymore. Everything was so good-… Only if I didn’t…’’ Angel raised her eyebrow as she was expecting for Akın to explain himself. Akın sighed. ‘’I had a job I was working for four years. To get this job, I studied college for six years. I had a master’s degree. I never murmured about it. Designing is my everything, I enjoyed every little part of it. I was so happy and successful at my job, but I had a huge argument with my boss. I got... Fired today.’’ ‘’What was the argument about’’ the Angel asked. ‘’It was… It was a silly topic. I was so down and depressed since my girlfriend left me.’’ He put his head in his hands ‘’We had a wedding two weeks later. Everything was so good. She said she was not sure about the wedding she needed time.’’ A few teardrops spilled from his cheeks ‘’I am all alone, I have nothing, nothing to live for…’’ Angel nodded with a saddened smile. ‘’I have an offer for you. You can refuse it if you want. I will take you to some dead people, people you already know. Talking to them might change your mind. What do you say?’’ Angel reached for Akın’s hand. She had small hands like a baby doll. Akın looked at her shining hand. What did he have to lose? Akın looked back up at Angel and wiped his tears. He straightened his back as if he were trying to pull himself together. He nodded a bit, then carefully reached for the small hand. The moment Akın touched the hand, he felt like he was being sucked in by time. He felt like the whole material universe was being emitted by the hand he was holding, but it didn’t hurt. It happened in milliseconds, and when they were done Akın pulled his hand back to cover his spinning head. He closed his eyes and when he opened them back, they were in a room. The room seemed fancy, with hand-crafted wooden furniture. He saw some notes on the slightly messy table. When he turned his head towards the window, he saw a tall man standing with a black tailcoat and a fedora. His eyes went wide open and he backed off a step as an instinct. Was that… Lincoln? He is in the same room with Abraham Lincoln? He looked at Angel as if he were waiting for a confirmation, but the confirmation came from a different space. ‘’Hello, son,’’ said Abraham Lincoln, turning his head from the window to Akın. ‘’H... Hello, sir.’’ He stuttered and tried to look more respectful against the Leader of America once upon a time. He connected the buttons of his coat and straightened his back. Lincoln chuckled at Akın’s excitement. ‘’It’s okay, we are all dead souls here!’’ he came closer to pat Akın’s shoulder. ‘’Actually…’’ Angel flew between Lincoln and Akın. ‘’He is not dead yet. I brought him here so he could speak with you before he decides to come here.’’ ‘’He decides? You aren’t planning your death, are you?’’ Lincoln raised his eyebrow as if he were questioning Akın. When Akın looked down, Lincoln sighed slightly and politely showed his sofa in front of his desk. ‘’Please sit, let us have a conversation.’’ Akın sat down after Lincoln, still looking down like a kid that had just dropped his ice cream. ‘’Why do you want to end your life?’’ ‘’I feel like… I don’t have any motivation to live anymore. I lost everything I fought for and I feel hopeless, I can not find anything to make me happy.’’ Akın looked back at Lincoln, bringing together his hands on his lap. ‘’What was your motivation?’’ He asked with a tiny; shy voice like it was the last thing to ask a leader and especially Lincoln. However, Lincoln seemed delighted with the question. A warm smile appeared on his face and he took off his hat, pressed it against his chest. ‘’I certainly had an ideology, a target. I believed all men were created equal, and liberty is not just a word to keep for ourselves. We faced great obstacles, a war…’’ Lincoln started telling his story. However, the passion to tell his story was astonishing. He stood up as he continued his story, started walking in the room, and when there was an action happening in his story, Akın felt it through Lincoln’s eyes. The way Lincoln was telling the story, felt like Akın had been through all that. He couldn’t believe the storytelling Lincoln was accomplishing, it was impressive. He stopped listening and started watching Lincoln, how he was living the story, how he was expressing the emotions by using gestures and expressions. He didn’t see anyone else who was so good at storytelling. Akın started smiling, he felt happy seeing a person so passionate about something really small. ‘’I think I got you there, son.’’ Lincoln stopped the story when he saw Akın smiling. ‘’Oh, I am so sorry-‘’ ‘’No. I would be pleased if I could help you with your story’’. Lincoln put his hat back on and smiled back at Akın. Angel joined the smiling, reached for Akın’s hand. ‘’We have more stops to go.’’ Akın didn’t want to leave Lincoln, he seemed like a guy who would lighten your day and enlighten you about many things. ‘’It was really nice to meet you, Mr. Lincoln Sir.’’ Akın smiled and slowly reached back for the hand. They disappeared from Lincoln’s study room to a valley. This time, Akın didn’t have much of a headache but his heart was beating like it wanted to leave his body. He couldn’t believe he saw and talked with Abraham Lincoln. Akın looked around, he was ready for another surprise. People were walking with only one piece of white fabric. They looked relaxed like they were all occupied with some work but they felt so comfortable about it. ‘’Are we in… Ancient Greece?’’ Akın turned his head to Angel. Angel thought for a second and nodded.  ‘’The afterlife of it, yeah that’s one way to put it’’ She pointed at a figure sitting on the bricks of a pool. This person had grey hair and slightly more proper clothes than the others. ‘’That’s Aristotle over there. I brought you here so that you could speak with him.’’ After hearing Angel’s words, Akın’s eyes went wide open again. ‘’Aristotle? Are you serious? I owe him my high school and university life!’’ ‘’Yes all of the humanity owes him a lot, now go talk to him.’’ Angel pushed Akın to the Greek figure with her small hands. Akın slowly approached the great professor, he brought his hands together and cleared his throat and he asked with a cracked voice. ‘Aristotle, sir?’’ The white-haired and white-bearded man turned his head at Akın, then his eyes gazed upon the Angel. ‘’Hello, young man. Are you brought here by the angel?’’ ‘’Yes, sir. She brought me here so that I can ask you something. Are you available right now?’’ Aristotle made a hand gesture that would politely invite him next to him over the bricks. Akın sat and looked down like he did with Lincoln. ‘’Sir, what was your motivation to live?’’ Aristotle leaned back and caressed his beard with a humble smile. ‘’ It was to accomplish my purpose as a thinking animal, to learn and live a happy life. It is just as I mentioned in my book.’’ He glanced at Akın, keeping the smile. Akın put his hands between his legs, he felt shy for not reading the book. ‘’Yes of course…’’ ‘’Anyway…’’ Aristotle continued, ‘’I was a philosopher and a scientist, but most importantly, I was a teacher. I contributed to biology in so many ways. I was interested in nature mostly,’’ He stopped and chuckled. ‘’One of my students was so eager to help me with my studies. Every time they traveled they would bring me a new animal to study.’’ He cleared his throat. ‘’Anyway. I also worked on the theory of elements…’’ Aristotle kept talking about what he contributed to humanity.  Akın listened carefully, but whenever he was talking about a new topic, he couldn’t stop but talking about his students. At the end of the conversation, Akın had a warm smile on his face like when he was with Lincoln. The way Aristotle cared about his students and how passionate he was about teaching warmed up Akın’s heart. ‘’Yes, I understand, sir.’’ Akın nodded slightly as Aristotle smiled back. ‘’I am so happy to hear that. Would you like to have a cup of wine?’’ ‘’No sir, I should leave now. You really enlightened me and taught me about humanity. Thank you.’’ Aristotle made a quick and a simple nod and opened his arms. ‘’I am delighted!’’ Akın turned back at the Angel with a smile on his face and held the hand that was extended to him. This time, they were in a small room with dim light, a woman was scribbling notes on her desk. A middle-aged woman, she seemed tired and focused on her work. When she saw Akın and the Angel teleported to her room, she smiled a little bit. For as long as Akın could remember, that woman was Virginia Woolf. ‘’Hello, Angel’’ she had a soothing voice, however, she sounded tired as much as she seemed so, ‘’what news have you brought me today?’’. Angel pointed at Akın, ‘’I thought you two might have something to talk about.’’ Akın nodded and smiled. ‘’Hello, Mrs. Woolf. It’s very nice to meet you. Angel brought me here today so that I can you motivation to live.’’ The moment the words were spilled from Akın’s mouth, he remembered Virginia Woolf’s life that he learned in his literature class. She committed suicide, multiple attempts. Virginia and Angel looked at each other, Virginia nodded as she showed the bed for Akın to sit.              ‘’That is a contradictory issue for me. I was struggling with major depression, bipolar, and some other mental diseases. I was…’’ she was talking calmly, she looked down before she continued. ‘’having hard times after I lost both of my parents. I couldn’t see any point of living when you don’t have anyone, and my first attempt was when my father died. But I met Leonard. He gave me the happiness I could never found without him.’’ A painful smile appeared on her face as she looked up at Akın. ‘’However, his small attempts to make my life better couldn’t help my mental state. I believed I could not be fixed. In the end, I didn’t want to make his life painful like mine. This is at least I can offer him.’’ Akın was surprised. He didn’t know what to say, but he could relate to her words, that was the hardest part for him. ‘’Motivation to live, you said. I am sorry, but life has been a burden for me and death was the escape. I tried everything to do better get better, sometimes fighting with no power hurts you more than death.’’ Woolf continued. He didn’t understand why Angel brought him there, but it was all his decision now. He nodded with blank, thoughtful looks. ‘’Thank you… Mrs. Woolf. For sharing your story with me’’ Woolf smiled a little and nodded. That was the last thing he saw before Angel reached Akın. They were in a small grocery shop that looked familiar to Akın. Akın was thinking about their conversation with Virginia Woolf. She really understood Akın, but he was distracted when he saw the person in front of him. ‘’Kemal Abi*!’’ He opened his arms wide and ran for the old figure standing in front of him. ‘’Hooopp!’’ Kemal Abi laughed and hugged back Akın tightly. His amusement didn’t last long. He frowned right after the laugh and pushed Akın. Kemal Abi was the grocery owner right under Akın’s apartment *Abi is a word used for ‘’brother’’ in Turkish but can be referred to as a person you see close and respect. and his neighbor. He died two years ago from cancer. ‘’Why are you here? Did you-‘’ ‘’No, no… Angel brought me here so that I could ask you something.’’ ‘’Oh!’’ Kemal Abi nodded like he was expecting a question. ‘’I had some money I won gambling. It’s right under the cupboard-‘’ ‘’No, Kemal Abi, not the money…’’ Akın raised an eyebrow after interrupting Kemal Abi. ‘’It’s about… Your motivation to live.’’ Kemal Abi shrugged at the question. ‘’My son, I didn’t have anything. I only had this grocery shop, my wife Zübeyde, and my children. I suffered a lot in my life, you know. Sometimes I believe my life was only about envying rich and crying for myself.’’ Kemal Abi seemed too sensitive as he was telling his story. She has the most sincere and sad smile Akın has seen. ‘’I am not sure about the motivation, but I had my small moments.’’ He reached for a couple of DVDs on the shelf and showed them to Akın. Akın remembered whenever he entered the shop, and Orhan Gencebay or a Müslüm Gürses song would be playing. He remembered Kemal abi contributing to the songs, sometimes they sang together. ‘’Music was my passion, though. It was my medicine.’’ Kemal abi smiled as he looked at the DVDs. Akın nodded and hugged Kemal abi again, a goodbye hug this time. He and Kemal Abi were both trying to hide tears, trying to stay away from being emotional. Kemal Abi pat Akın’s shoulder. ‘’Take care of yourself, okay? And give my money to my wife.’’ ‘’I will, Kemal abi. I will…’’ Akın nodded with a pained smile. He took a step back and touched Angel’s hand one last time. They were back on the bridge. Akın was looking straight to the sea, the Marmara Sea with so many lights reflecting on it, from large skyscrapers, small shanty houses. Each represented someone’s life. Some had a motivation, some didn’t. Angel’s soft voice was disappearing in the cold wind that covered Istanbul’s night for the last time. ”Is this your final decision?’’

[thistleandthorn-rpg]

Welcome Isla to the RP! Check out this page for what to do next, and send us her blog with 48 hours!

Name/Alias: Isla Preferred pronoun: she/her Age: 31 Timezone/Country: est RP Experience: about a decade Activity Level: 5-7/10 (mostly just on at night. work and fam situation keeps me slammed all day)

IC INFORMATION:

Name: Lincoln Jones Designation: submissive Faceclaim: Phoebe Tonkin Orientation: demiromantic / pansexual Kinks: breath play, impact play, pain play, knives, exhibitionism, orgasm control, spanking, bondage, tpe, public play, rough sex Anti-Kinks: age play, pet play, foot play, scat

Key Points: 

slightly broken.

untrusting.

very good at putting up a front.

not great at expressing real emotions.

can say a lot without using words.

lone wolf.

can come off as unapproachable but once you’ve gotten over that hump she’s very easy to get along with.

BIO:

Lincoln was one of those pure innocent souls as a child.  She was pleasant and kind and relatively trusting.  Though she was a bit of an introvert, she did well socially, and academically she was rather impressive.  That all carried into her years as a young adult.  In high school, she figured out her sexuality rather early and while she was attracted to men, she tended to lean towards women.  That wasn’t entirely accepted at the academy she attended so for the most part she kept it under wraps.  

Linc was a cheerleader for the first few years of high school, she really enjoyed it.  Art was her passion but cheer kept her active and social.  She had a huge crush on the captain of the girl’s soccer team and they ended up sleeping together pretty regularly… that is, until a guy on the football team decided he needed to be dating Lincoln.  He found out about her little secret and used it to blackmail her into dating him.  And that’s where her pure innocent soul died- right there in his hands.  Eventually, he outed her to the school and all that was light seemed to go dark. She quit the cheer squad, she lost most of her friends, instead she focused on her studies and her art.  The experience left her untrusting and guarded. Upon graduation, Lincoln convinced her parents that she needed a break before jumping right back into schooling again.  She took time, years, to slowly  backpack through Europe with a camera, a sketchbook, and some watercolors.  She enjoys creating many art forms but those seemed to be the easiest to carry around.  The experience was grounding and centering, it was much needed.  Now that she’s back and about to be attending Stonewall, she’s unsure of how she feels about it all.

BIO QUESTIONS:

What are your feelings about the mark you have received?

A little uneasy, if I’m being honest.   Not that I have the urge to Domme really but there’s a certain freedom that comes with the more Dominant marks that isn’t afforded to those of us with the submissive one.  But I’ll be attempting to keep an open mind.

How do your feelings on the system compare to your parents’ feelings on it?

Pretty sure my parents are pro system.  I still have yet to make an educated choice on the matter because I have yet to really be immersed in it.  I’m more of a hands on sort of person.  Jury’s still out.

Where do you see yourself after you graduate?  

In Europe.  Hopefully, in a claim?  With someone that’s on my wavelength.  Making art.  Happy.  I’m not sure how long I’m supposed to wax poetic here but I don’t want to go jinxing myself.

How do you feel about authority?

I suppose it’s a necessary evil. I don’t do much in the way of getting into trouble so I don’t find myself faced with that much.  I guess that’s about to change seeing as I have a submissive mark.  I’m hoping to keep myself under the radar.

[100morepod-blog]

Episode 6 - The Self Righteous Mind Post Mortem

              It’s always been interesting to me that so many people could be confronted with so many hard facts, and yet decided simply to ignore them. The facts must be wrong. We are now living in a time where facts have the amazing ability to have an agenda.               

              Being a mere mortal on this Earth and not having studied history as extensively as would be necessary, I cannot tell you much about political discourse and rhetoric have changed in the past handful of centuries or even decades. Certainly there was always an element of drama to them as some of the most famous and infamous politicians I am aware of (Lincoln and Hitler come to mind) have been known to be great and impressive orators. The orator that most readily comes to mind at time of writing is in this podcaster’s opinion unworthy to be compared with such masters of human speech, but there is no denying that we are all waiting for him to leave office to see if he has brought about an irreperable sea change in political discourse or if he will take it all with him when he goes.

              During the Obama presidency (a presidency I did not personally vote for or endorse), I like many frequently heard the sarcastic refrain “Thanks Obama.” Admittedly I was much less politically aware than I am now as I am succumbing to the stereotype of becoming more attuned to politics the older I get, but I never felt any noticeable harm or difference good or ill to my life throughout those two terms. I recall very recently turning to my dear friend Momo and saying “I believe Obama will largely be remembered as a caretaker president. He didn’t do anything egregiously bad or good, and mostly he was the first black president.”

              That’s not to say he won’t have his own legacy in the short term - a legacy that his successor is hellbent on dismantling in lieu of actual policy or governance. But anything done through executive orders can be undone by a new executive, and the Republicans who today cry “obstructionist Democrats” stonewalled any piece of legislation that Obama looked upon favorably. Such is the politics of today. Tomorrow a Democrat will regain the presidency and the Republicans will shout tyranny and the Democrats will complain obstruction, and not much will get done unless a lobbyist backed by powerful corporations says so.

              This all sounds very bleak, and I mean it to be so. Today I watched children on the news speaking on the need for some kind - any kind - of gun legislation to (and it pains me heartily to phrase it so) decrease the number of mass shootings that take place in what we call the greatest country in the world. Yet rather than empathy, those who viewed any regulation of firearms saw enemies, and their righteous minds seized on any small shroud of evidence that these were paid “crisis actors” after seeing one of these children rehearsing the speech he would give.

              Before this, families torn apart by the Sandy Hook Massacre fled their homes and moved out of state to escape the death threats they received for being “crisis actors” in the pocket of the liberal anti-gun agenda. The claim being that Sandy Hook was a hoax. No children died, and these people’s grief and pain are met with open hostility rather than compassion because they dared to ask that further harm be prevented.

              I can’t pretend to understand such pain. It shames me to say so, but I have never been so close to my family as I have seen others be. And yet, when I imagine receiving a phone call from the police saying that my little nephews or niece were at school when such an event took place... I lack the prosaic skill to describe the dread and disgust I feel.

              Often times I think of the superheroes I grew up idolizing. Batman stands out as having one singular and well defined rule - “Thou shalt not kill.” It’s a good rule in my opinion. No matter how many bones he breaks, or years of therapy the people he terrifies will need, Batman abstains from killing, and that’s something. In Batman Begins he makes the point that this specific rule is important because it makes him different from the criminals he hunts. It sounds so wonderful and heroic on the screen and in print. But putting it into practice proves to be so much more difficult.

              I imagine that like me, most of those who might read this have done pretty well at abstaining from killing, but I would challenge you to go a step further. It sounds so tired and trite I realize for me to say this again, but love thy neighbor. If you are truly “righteous,” if you are truly different from those evil conservatives, those evil liberals, those who would take your guns, those who would let you die rather than enact change, then love them. I am so very far from Jesus, so I won’t ask you to turn the other cheek. Fight. Fight with every fiber of your being for the change that you believe is right with the world. But I implore every American who reads this to remember that the enemy they fight is not an enemy. Simply another “righteous” mind fighting for what they believe in.

 Respectfully and with Love,

Geo

[je-suis-clarisse]

"Who are you talking to?" The vampire asked the demon as she entered the living room, her arms filled with books. Clarisse had a plan, to lose herself in some historical fiction novels. It was her favorite way to spend time--Payne's head resting on her lap as she read and he napped. It might seem a quiet and dull way to spend time, but considering their history--'dull' was a lovely way to do so. "There is literally no one else in the house but us…" she continued, closing the door behind herself.

Her voice trailed off as she observed a figure sitting beside Payne, each of them standing up as she entered the room. The books in her arms fell to the floor in her awe. “Risse, I’m sure you need no introduction,” Payne quipped with a smirk, dipping down to pick up the tomes and set them on a tabletop before he squeezed her hand and pardoned himself to leave the two alone, Clarisse stood motionless, thinking this a terrible joke. She felt awkward standing there, waiting for someone to yell ‘gotcha!’ or ‘Surprise!’ Perhaps this was an illusion. It simply had to be. Or else she was dreaming again. Heaven knew her imagination was lively and could also seem very real. She wasn't sure. But the male stood for a moment before dipping into a bow. It seemed he too was nervous. What a strange moment this was. Instinct kicked in and Clarisse dipped into a curtsey that would have made Marie Antoinette proud. She finally broke the silence and asked, "Is this real?" "It is quite real. You seem to have quite a number of friends ‘upstairs’. One Michael Demiurgos and Seraphiel. It was she who escorted me here." "Daddy." Her voice was no higher than a whisper as she observed him standing before her. She'd never called him that in life, but he opened his arms towards her, awaiting her to join him. She couldn't. Not yet. He had to prove it. "Mouse." It was him! No one else on Earth ever called her that. Clarisse made a beeline right into his arms, tears rolling down her cheeks as his arms encircled her, holding her close and he pressed kisses to the top of her head. He still smelled the same as before, that familiar scent overwhelming her. Tobacco, ink, bourbon. He smelled just as her library did. Her love of books had come from him and every time she walked into the library, she was greeted by not only that delightful scent--his scent--but also his portrait that hung over the mantle and fireplace. The wingback chair near the fire was also something he would have loved. When she had first seen it, it brought her back to the evenings he had sat in his study, going over his papers and she had sat at his feet, leaning back against his legs, reading a book. It was the one time of day that Vivian left her in peace. Frederick, when home from school, would occasionally join them, reading or even playing a game of whist. Some of her happiest moments had been in the study. Perhaps it was why she recreated it in each place that she lived, or that at the very least, she'd had his portrait made into a miniature and had it settled on her desk. If Christopher du Volde ever worried about being forgotten, it was a silly worry, for his youngest child carried him with her each and every day. She spoke of him with affection and cried when she thought of how much she deeply missed him. "How long can you stay?" "I don't know. But let us enjoy the time." He did not have to say it twice. She looked him over, joyful that he was here before her. He looked just as she remembered except he was in more modern attire. She suspected that must have been Michael's doing. She wished Frederick were here, but he was away with Henry. There was so much to say, but where to begin? Clarisse twisted her rings around her fingers nervously until Christopher laughed. "You still have that habit after how long?" It was odd to be sitting with someone who remembered her from her mortal years. Taking hold of her hand, the two walked through the house, Christopher occasionally commenting on the beauty of her home. He teared up at the portraits from her theatre days, and how her star had skyrocketed through her the years. He had not seen her become famous, nor seen her blossom into the woman she was. But he was proud, and Clarisse felt her eyes well up with tears. She had always wondered if he would be proud. Everything that she had become, he had missed. But she had carried him with her all through the years. Be it by the locket that contained a small portrait of him, or simply by the fact that she was his daughter. He was never far from her thoughts. Yet, as they made their way through the grand home, his favourite place, beyond the study, was the garden. "This reminds me of Sunday walks at Versailles," he remarked with fondness, giving her hand another squeeze as he began to praise the gardener for his fine work. Clarisse watched them converse quietly, a smile on her features as she listened to the rich baritone of his voice speak of different plants and suggestions on more vibrant colours and fruits. He had always been a man with many interests. He had always hoped to someday meet Thomas Jefferson and discuss his gardens and Monticello with him. The only thing they differed on was slavery. Where Jefferson owned slaves (and rumour had it, slept with one and had children by), Christopher did not believe in slavery nor that he was better because of the tone of his flesh. It was something he had impressed upon his children. She had never met Jefferson, but she suspected that he would have been fond of Abraham Lincoln. Granted, the sixteenth president had been a vampire hunter, but still. He was a good man, even if their rivalry never quite died down. Leading him back to the library, Clarisse drew out a glass from her desk drawer. "I heard your mother came to see you." He murmured to her, sitting down as she poured him a glass of bourbon before settling down beside him. She flinched at the mention of Vivian and went rigid. Christopher brought his hand to hold her own again, comforting her. Looking at him, she sighed before looking away. She did not wish to discuss that hateful wretch in so precious a time with him. "What was it that she said to you that truly hurt you so much this time?" "carry the knowledge in your heart that you are unworthy of the love you seek. if your own mother hates the sight of you, why would anyone else want you? you will die alone. and you will be a forgotten grain in the hourglass of time." She recited, the words a painful stab to her heart. She did not dare repeat the line Vivian had said about her list of lovers. She knew enough women and men thought she was a whore--she was not. Considering the length of her life, her number of lovers was rather small. It was also a fine bit of irony, considering just how many Vivian herself had taken. Still, she pushed her from her mind, afraid it would beckon her back to torment her. Her voice had hitched as she spoke, her eyes meeting Christopher's and he sighed, raising her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. He hid his anger well, though she could hear the profanities he was thinking almost as if he had said them aloud. "Mouse, you must know. I always loved you and I still love you. It is wrong of me, but you know you're my favourite. You may not actually be of my blood, but I gave you my name and I never looked at you as anything but as a child of my own. From the moment that the midwife placed you in my arms, our bond was formed. I know they say new-borns can't really see, but you opened your eyes for a moment, and I swear, you smiled at me. I know that you did not. But I thought you did. And when you gripped my pinkie, you were mine. That proves her wrong already. You are loved and always will be. Your sisters and brother never quite responded to me as you did. Perhaps you knew that you had stolen my heart. It's a trend I'm sure you've continued." He paused as Clarisse smiled faintly and drew her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You have always been worthy of love and affection. The way Payne looks at you proves her wrong as well. You have so much love in your life, Clarisse. Never pay your mother heed." There were so many things that bubbled and finally erupted as the two sat together. "You don't...you don't hate me for what I am?" "You are my daughter. I know what you mean, before you object. I could never hate you, Clarisse. Is it what I would have wanted for you? No, but you have thrived, and you've become such a good woman. So no, I don't hate you. I could never and I never will." "You knew I wasn't yours…" "I didn't care. I had suspicions about all of you. But I love you all the same. Except Vivienne. She was your mother's child always. I never had a chance with her. But you. All I had to do was say your name and you were following me around the house." "Papa, you knew what she did to me. Why didn't you ever stop her?" She asked hesitantly, afraid she would offend him, but she had to know. "Clarisse Elisabeth, do you honestly think I never tried? Why do you think I brought you to your aunt and uncle's house to live after she stabbed you? I threatened divorce. I cut her out of my will. I did everything to let her know that I was not pleased and what she did was unacceptable. I did everything I could possibly do. She threatened my business. Had she said I mistreated her, she would have sent us to ruin. It could have put me in jail as well. Then I truly could do nothing for you. I didn’t know what more I could do, short of wringing her neck. Did you wish me to become a murderer?" “…” “I was tempted.” “I suspect everyone was at some point; she had that effect on people.” Father and daughter sat quietly until Clarisse crossed the room, moving to the large Steinway piano and smiling to him, she pressed her fingers to the keys. He had always loved Canon in D Major by Johann Pachelbel. It wasn't the most complex of pieces, but she had always played it well. He closed his eyes as he sat there and she simply let the music do the speaking for her. It was one of her favorite pieces as well. She'd have played him everything she knew, had they the time. Sadly, time is always the thing that people seldom have. "Mouse, you have to let me go." "Papa?" "I can't rest in peace, until you let me go. Let me rest, sweetheart." "I don't understand," she spoke, meeting his gaze and ceasing to play. She could see on his face that this conversation was clearly paining him. His arms encircled her again, holding her close, her head on his chest. Clarisse wept as she listened to his heartbeat; the sound had lulled her to sleep on many occasions. He was here, but not really. He was not a figment of her imagination, but he was...a spirit? "I was allowed to leave to finish things with you. You are my unfinished business, Mouse. I want you to let me go. This is to be our 'goodbye', Clarisse." He rocked her gently as she began to cry. She wasn't ready. However, she knew it was time. She had held onto him for centuries. She looked at Christopher, "You'll still be with me?" she asked softly. "Now and always." "If you see Nettie..." "I see her frequently as I do your son and daughter. She takes care of them for you. They bring us quite a bit of joy. She was quite touched that you named your little girl for her. As is the Queen." Christopher winked at her, taking her hands in his once more as a bright light filled the room. Clarisse covered her face, however, it was not unpleasant; it didn't harm her. But it was calling to her father, who was approaching it. Christopher smiled as he kissed her forehead once more. "You are my pride and joy, Clarisse Elisabeth. You needn't ever worry over that. You make me proud daily. And we shall meet again someday." "Papa?" "Mouse?" "Je t'aime. Toujours." "Et je t’aime, Clarisse. Toujours. Adieu, ma reinette. It is a good name for you. You certainly are a little queen." He smiled and then, he was gone. Clarisse stood there, staring at the space, feeling an emptiness within her closed. Yet, there would always be that ache. That desire to be with her family would never go away. But now, he was at peace. He was happy. They'd gotten to say everything they had needed to and that, that was enough. It was all she could ask for.

[st-crylo]

Undercover & Undone

Summary: (y/n) (y/l/n) was just a simple waitress living in a city torn between two warring mafias desperately grabbing for power. When her two friends Matt and Ben Solo come up with a plan for the Coruscant Police Department to get the upper hand on the mobs, (y/n) finds herself coming face to face with someone she thought she’d never see again...

A/N: To everyone who listened to my AU idea I wanna thank you so much!! Also thanks to @kylo-renne who came up with the title bc I suck at coming up with titles. Anyways, my inspiration from this kinda came from Gangster Squad so it’s very loosely based off of that, and I love the aesthetic of 50′s mobs but catch me using the aesthetic but eradicating the racism and sexism of that time period

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.1K

U&U Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Kylo frowned as he looked down at his watch. It was half past two, and he was late…again. He’d have to get a new driver if this problem kept on. After all, this meeting was critical, and showing up late didn’t bode well for his future business dealings with this family. If he made a bad impression, this family might take their business to Hux and his new First Order. That was the last thing he needed, especially with the constant fighting between their two forces. With a huff, he looked out of the window, discerning a small diner through the thick snow that fell so peacefully that when he watched the world passing by from the backseat of his Lincoln, it felt like he was in a dream of sorts. For a moment, he let his mind wander, away from his business dealings and organization, and to someone he hadn’t seen in a long time, someone he would’ve given anything to at least know how they were doing…

The snow was falling lightly outside of the diner you worked at for once in the past week. It was pleasant, to look outside of the diner windows and seeing the snow fall so peacefully when you took your breaks, which this time of year happened more often than you actually working. Sighing, you stood up from the table in the back, quickly wiping off your work uniform and heading over to behind the counter, the Christmas music on the radio playing faintly behind you. You sighed as you leaned against the counter, watching the customers slowly drift into the diner.

Now that it wasn’t the lunchtime rush, there was a very small amount of business. You yawned, wanting nothing more than to head home so you could get at least a wink of sleep as you’d been working since opening.

“It’s been so slow today,” said Lyra from beside you, a piece of her dark hair falling from her bun. You nodded in agreement, simply watching the door as every few minutes, people walked in, and a waiter or waitress quickly bustled to their respective serving areas.

“And they’ve already started playing Christmas music on the radio. Thanksgiving’s barely ended,” you complained with a sigh, leaning against the counter, your chin resting on your palm as you watched the door, waiting for any signs of customers for you to wait. You were already exhausted, as you were near the end of your shift, but you still wanted to manage some final tips before you had to trek home through the snow.

“Will you two quit moping? It’s the holiday season, of course there are less people coming in. They all want to spend time with their families,” your manager, Kyle, called to the two of you from his office. You rolled your eyes as you sat up straight, wanting to groan at Kyle’s cheery mood. He insisted that the two of you tried to convey the love of the holidays to make the diner seem more inviting, but if there were no customers around, who was there to pretend for?

You turned to Lyra who was mocking Kyle, before turning back around to look outside of the diner windows. A group of dark figures, masked by the snowfall, walked up to the diner, stopping in front of the door before pulling it open. You stood up straight, seeing a group of policemen walking in, each of them laughing heartily and stomping their boots on the rug in front of the door before they each pulled off their hats and coats. You smiled as you recognized two of them.

“Hey, Ben, Matt!” You called, causing the two of them to look up and smile at you, Ben with the same smug grin as always, and Matt with a crooked yet adorable grin, his hair wind-blown and frosted with ice.

You’d known the two of them most of your life, and the bond the three of you had was almost like siblings. They were the people you were closest with, and you couldn’t imagine your life without them, especially since they gave Dexter’s Diner its biggest group of business, what with them bringing the whole of Ben’s police squad plus Matt from Coruscant Police Department. Standing up straight and grabbing the little order pad and a pen, you walked over to their table, smiling as you were met with some of the kind faces from the CPD. They always made sure to sit in your section.

“What can I get you boys today?” You asked, watching all of their faces as they skimmed the menu. Ben was already smiling at you, his menu placed down on the table.

“All these boys’ coffee is on me,” he said, his face beaming as you shook your head, writing down on the pad.

“I think we’re going to need a minute, miss,” said one of them, causing you to nod and walk off. As soon as you got to the counter, you started pouring the coffee into mugs, placing them on the tray. Once you finished, you gathered enough spoons for the five of them, and grabbed the creamer. After pulling the tray up, you sauntered over to the table and placed each of the mugs in front of each of the officers.

“So, you guys ready?” you said as you pulled out the pad once more. Ben was the first to speak up, looking up at you with a goofy grin that you couldn’t help but smile in response.

“Yeah, I’ll get the usual, (y/n), thanks,” he said before putting his menu back behind the condiments. You turned to Matt expectantly, he usually ordered immediately after Ben.

“Same for you Matt?” you asked, to which Matt frowned and shook his head.

“No, today was…messy to say the least,” he said, looking off into the distance.

“I’ll say. The Liotta case had to be one of the most intense cases we’ve had in a while, even with the First Order and Knights of Ren running around,” said one of the officers, the others nodding grimly in solemn remembrance. You nodded as well before moving on to take the rest of the orders from the table.

Once you finished, you headed back to behind the counter, where you handed the tab to the chef, who started cooking away. Once you’d done that, you headed over to the table again to chat with all the men. After all, it wasn’t like you’d had any tables before they arrived.

“So, how come you guys are lunching so late today, huh?” You asked as you placed a hand on your hip, looking around at all the officers.

“Working hard, my dear miss (y/l/n),” Ben said with a smirk, causing you to scoff.

“The day you work hard, Solo, is the day Matt becomes a mass murderer,” you joked, causing everyone at the table to erupt in laughter. You laughed as well, the sides of your mouth aching slightly from how wide you were grinning.

“I think if Matt was going to kill anyone, it would be Ben,” said Poe, one of the officers, and another close friend of both you and the Solo boys, creating mumbles of agreement from the others. You looked over to Matt, who you noticed was just watching you. You were about to say something when you heard the bell from behind the counter, and you rushed over to grab the trays of food for your patrons. With the help of Lyra, who still didn’t have any tables at the time, you rushed the hot food over to the boys from CPD and you laid each of their respective plates in front of them. You then took the trays back, leaning back against the counter as you got each of their separate checks and then you ambled over, placing the pile of papers on the end of the table.

In not too long, all the boys had finished their meals, and they were all handing you their checks at the register, along with their payment before pulling on their coats and hats. You smiled at each of them as you gave them their change. After all, they’d made the slow period of the day more exciting.

The last to give you his check was Matt, and he fumbled around with his money before handing it to you. Like always, he had exact change.

“Thanks Matt. Watch out for Ben, and make sure you at least wear a scarf from now on,” you said, as Matt simply pulled on a coat, not bothering with anything else like the rest of his coworkers. “I know you get colder than Ben does, so maybe try to dress warmer than him.” Matt smiled and ran a hair through his curly blonde hair.

“Yeah, well, me taking care of myself better than Ben does is easier than it looks, (y/n). I’ll see ya around,” he said, pulling his coat tighter before stepping out of the front door, following all the rest of the boys back to the police department. As he walked away, you could see his curls tousled by the wind until the falling snow completely shrouded any trace of your friends and their coworkers.

Upon arriving back at the CPD headquarters, Matt quickly rushed to Ben’s side. He was anxious, and full of anticipation, bubbling with an idea he had to share with Ben immediately. It was like an epiphany, and he didn’t know how he hadn’t thought of it before. Ben, who had already began to head to his work space, looked back at Matt and knew his brother had something brewing in his mind. After all, Matt always had a special look in his eyes whenever he was concentrating on something. Before Matt could even open his mouth, however, Ben held up a hand to silence him.

“Alright, what is your genius mind planning now, Matty?” he asked, causing Matt to frown. Ben knew he hated that nickname unless it was coming from anyone else. “Actually, can you tell me what the subject matter is first, and then I’ll listen? You know we have a load of work to do here.” Matt frowned harder this time. It would be a miracle to see Ben just listen once without interrupting, and Matt didn’t have a lot of time before he had to head back to the forensics lab.

“It’s about Kylo,” Matt said softly, so soft that he was concerned Ben hadn’t heard him at first. However, upon seeing Ben’s face drop, he knew he’d been heard. Ben looked around to make sure there were no prying eyes before leaning closer to Matt. Their relation to Kylo was the best kept secret at the CPD, and it was a secret between only Matt, Ben, and Poe, and Ben desperately wanted to keep it that way.

“I’ll go get Poe. He’ll probably wanna hear this too,” Ben said, causing Matt to nod before trotting off to Poe’s office, as they’d need to speak of this in private. Ben sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. He knew they’d have to come up with something eventually, but Ben wasn’t entirely ready to face that. If he had his way, he could wait forever to see his brother’s face again. Shaking his head, Ben let out another sigh before he began his search for Poe.

“I’ll see you tomorrow everyone!” You called as you pulled your coat on, your hair let down and purse in hand. Lyra waved you goodbye as you headed out of the door and into the slow-falling snow. You shivered as the cold wind bit against your skin, shocking you at first before you began heading along on the sidewalk. You apartment was within walking distance of the diner, for which you were thankful because you couldn’t imagine having to walk too far out of your way in this cold. Shivering again as you felt snow falling onto your hair, you looked down at the ground and kept walking steadily. Your apartment building was in view, and you couldn’t wait to be out of this cold and into the heat.

Walking up to your apartment building, you breathed a sigh of relief that became crystals in front of your eyes from the cold. You walked up the metal steps and pulled out the keys, opening the door and feeling a rush of warmth overcome you as you stepped inside. Once inside, you shed your coat, setting it onto one of the seats, and placing the rest of your things down on the same chair. After that, you pulled off your shoes and walked over to the loveseat in your living room, laying yourself down and staring up at the ceiling. You were thankful you didn’t have to come in tomorrow until after lunch, as you sincerely wanted rest in the morning.

Your feet throbbed as you closed your eyes, head tilted towards the ceiling. You could feel yourself drifting away slowly, sleep taking over your exhausted body, the sound of outside of your apartment becoming nothing but a comfortable buzz in the background…

At least until the phone rang, it’s shrill screech piercing the silence of your apartment, causing you to groan as you ambled over to the table that it sat on. With a frown, you plopped yourself down on the chair adjacent to the little end table. Whoever was calling you right after your shift had some nerve.

“Hello?” you said, trying to keep your voice sweet even though you were fuming.

“Hey, (y/n)? It’s Ben.” As soon as you heard out the familiar voice, you let out a sigh. Of course it was Ben.

“Hey, how’s it going?” You asked as you leaned back in the seat, wrapping the telephone cord around your finger.

“Pretty good. Listen, me and Matt were wondering if you were wanting to get dinner with us tonight after we both get off,” Ben asked, his voice sounding tired even through the phone. With all the mob activity in Coruscant, you weren’t surprised that Ben was so tired. It had also been a while since you’d gotten to spend time with either Matt or Ben, and even longer since you’d gotten to hang out with the two of them together.

“Yeah, I’d love that. Just give me a call again before you leave the police department,” you said, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I will. See ya then,” he said before hanging up. You put the phone back on the receiver and sighed before standing. Bringing your arms together, you stretched them out before you headed for your bathroom. You had plenty of time between now and when the boys arrived to enjoy a nice bath.

“I really wish it weren’t necessary,” Kylo said with a huff, his footsteps thundering into his home as he shed his coat, hanging it on the coat hanger before he proceeded to do the same with his hat. From beside him, a man stood. Though this man was shorter than Kylo, he was still fairly tall, and seemed to be a very well-mannered man based on how he carried himself. As soon as Kylo moved away from the coat hanger, the man mimicked Kylo, removing his coat and hat and hanging them up before following his boss.

“Still, it’s a good way to prove our worth over the First Order. Ever since Snoke’s death, Hux hasn’t held back how much he hates you. I doubt he’ll be able to hold it in at a public event, even if it costs him the deal,” the man said, following Kylo into the parlor room. Kylo sat himself on an armchair before pulling out a cigarette, placing it between his fingers before pulling out his lighter and igniting the end. He took a quick drag from it and then blew out, tapping the cigarette onto the edge of the ashtray on the table beside him.

“You’re right about that, Tal. We do have the advantage of being more stoic than Hux and his men. This might work out in our favor,” Kylo noted as he looked at the fire crackling in the magnificent fireplace. Ever since the First Order and the Knights of Ren decided to split, or rather, split rather violently, the mansion had become very empty. It became even worse in the winter months, with his men preferring to stay in their own houses, leaving Kylo with no one but Phasma and his maid Lorraine.

“The only advantage Hux has over us is that his men tend to clean up better,” Tal joked, breaking Kylo from his thoughts. Kylo smirked before taking another drag from his cigarette before standing up.

“That’s true. Make sure the others all know to wear their best suits,” Kylo said before putting out the cigarette, walking away from Tal. He headed towards the stairs, his pace slow, but deliberate as he decided to retire.

“Yes sir. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tal called. Kylo simply waved his hand at him as he proceeded up the stairs. Tal turned, heading back towards the entrance, his footsteps echoing across the empty marble as he made his way back to the exit.

Once upstairs, Kylo retreated to his bedroom, closing the door hurriedly as soon as he had gotten inside. With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair, wishing this was all some sort of bad dream. He was no good at socializing and he knew Hux truly had the upper hand. It would take sheer luck for them to get through this successfully, and possibly for Kylo to not speak at all. A winter gala was the last thing he wanted to attend after all, and with the need of the Cortenshis family’s funds and numbers, the Knights of Ren desperately needed to sway Lukas Cortenshis’ in their favor.

With another sigh, Kylo looked to the ceiling. What he wouldn’t give for a couple of days of peace and quiet, but this was something that desperately needed doing. He almost wished Snoke had left everything to Hux instead in his will, instead of Kylo. That way, there would have been any need for all this fighting. It was definitely beginning to take its toll, and he knew the Coruscant Police would stop at nothing to catch both him and Hux and lock them away forever.

[robbyrobinson]

A Broken Heart

Today was a great day for the Loud kids. What started as a misunderstanding quickly became much more. Yesterday, Lincoln had uncovered a love letter signed to a certain "L. Loud." As all of the siblings' names begin with the letter L, this only further complicated matters. As the day went on as they tried to get their crushes to notice them, another letter arrived in the mail, this time singling out the sisters who had brown hair. To make matters even more convoluted, it seemed as though the letters were directed towards Luna herself. Despite initially being nervous, her siblings convince her to go to the restaurant that night. While the letter turned out to have been for their father, this inspires the Loud kids to act on their feelings. With Luna as the last of the siblings to give out her love letter, she quickly sprinted behind some of the lockers. As if on cue, the rock star boy and his two friends walked past the lockers. After the blond girl bids her two friends farewell, she goes to open her locker. The love letter gently floats to the ground, thus confirming that this girl was Sam.

Luna walks home after school, casually humming a tune. Luna was pretty happy with herself; even though she was worried about what Sam's reaction would've been to the letter, she seemed to reciprocate what was written on it. As she walked down the street, Luna let her mind roam free. Thoughts of her beloved fluttered through her mind like butterfly wings. Luna lightly placed her hand on her heart, sighing whilst doing so. Every time she thought about Sam, her heart beats fast like a bass drum. Luna never felt so strongly for someone in her life. Not even her former attraction towards Hugh –Lincoln's tutor – could set her heart ablaze with such raw passion. Suddenly all of those sappy songs about love she had heard over the years made more sense to her. Luna was so delighted at what she had done; she was convinced that nothing could rob her of her good mood.

Luna arrives to the front yard of her humble abode. As she made her way to the door, she could hear her siblings buzzing about in regard to their crushes. A soft smile spreads across her face. She was really hopeful that their pursuits for love were fruitful. Luna places her right hand on the door, and she turns it clockwise. Her siblings stopped talking when they heard the small clicking of the door.

"Guys, Luna's home!" screamed Lincoln.

Luna shuts the door behind her when she was immediately bombarded by a family hug from her siblings. Even though she was slightly cramped in between, Luna laughs alongside her siblings. It took no time for her siblings to ask her a series of questions.

"So how did it go?" asked Lori.

"Are ya gonna bring her home?" inquired Leni.

"We always knew that you were pining for her" chuckles Luan "get it?"

What Luan said was true. Ever since she started to hang out with Sam, Luna would hardly last a couple of hours if she did not bring up Sam. However, when she first began to talk about her, her siblings were under the assumption that she was referring to a boy. Since she was hanging out with a young boy and his two friends, it seemed a given that she was heads over heels for that boy. When the reveal came that Luna was a bisexual, it created a slight disarray with them; it wasn't that they didn't notice some of the signs, but it's the fact that Luna deliberately kept her gender a secret that made their jaws drop in unison when Luna once pointed her out in the mall. Eventually, they slowly became supportive of their sister, and they gave her the encouragement she needed. After all, she was their sister, and they wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"So, how did she respond to the letter?" said Lynn.

Luna beams a smile at Lynn. "I'm certain she digs me, dudes!"

The sisters all emitted a large squee that practically shook all of the windows in the house. Lincoln and Luna both systematically place their hands over their ears. While she was glad that they supported her, Luna clearly didn't want a repeat of what happened the last time they screamed this loudly. Their parents still had to pay for the damages that were done to the neighborhood.

"So when are you going to pour your heart out to her?" asked Lola.

"Hopefully soon, little sis," said Luna.

"Are you going to start dating her?" asked Lori. "I could arrange for a double date with you two, and Bobby and me."

Luna chuckled at this. "I don't want to rush things too soon."

"But what if she never knows that you sent her the letter?" asked Lincoln inquisitively.

Luna scratches her head. That's true; she didn't leave her initials on the letter when she wrote it, so how would Sam know that she had written it? Worse yet, what if she assumes that it was written by someone else. That would crush Luna if that were the likely scenario.

"You're right, Lincoln. What should I do?"

The sisters talked amongst themselves as to what could be done about this predicament. The further they argued with each other, the more outlandish their suggestions became.

"Maybe Luna could put some more letters in her locker" concluded Leni.

"No, that'd be overkill," groaned Lori.

"We should resort to the dark arts to ensure that Sam and Luna will be the only ones with eyes for each other" sighs Lucy.

"Doesn't that kind of rob her of her personal space?" asked Lynn.

"Besides, Mom and Dad both told you that you couldn't do any witchcraft anymore" added Lana.

"Sigh. Defeated again," bemoans Lucy.

Lisa stood up to speak next. "I propose that we make a spray that will make Luna be the only center of Sam's affections."

"That's worse than Lucy's idea!" yelled Lola. Lisa was obviously not amused.

"Oh, so you want to go princess?" Lisa said, clasping her fists.

"Oh, it is on nerd!" shouts Lola.

The two began to brawl. Lori rolls he eyes, and picks both of her younger sisters by the back of their shirts.

"Guys, let's be civil here."

"Yeah; we should go with my idea."

Lori laughs. "No, Leni, you're idea is literally terrible."

"Oh yeah," Leni fumed.

"Yes, of course, Leni, that idea was pretty dumb" added Lynn.

Leni's eyes were like daggers as she looked furiously at her younger sister. "Well, at least I didn't suggest that they both go to a ballgame."

Lynn's eyes grow to the size of kitchen plates. "What did you say?!"

Without much prompt, the sisters fought each other. Hair and loose teeth were flying as the dust quickly gathers to obscure the brutality. Luna and Lincoln both sighed in disbelief. Lincoln and Luna were about to pull their siblings off each other, when an idea struck Lincoln.

"So, Luna, you've been hanging out with Sam for long times haven't you?"

Luna nods her head. "Yup. Enough time to become wrapped up in her."

"What are some of your shared interests?"

Luna subconsciously drills her mind for an answer. "Well, we basically play together, for one."

Lincoln grinned. "So, you and Sam hang out with that rocker boy, correct?"

"Where are you going with this, Lincoln?"

"Well, if you two hang out with that boy a lot, why not tell Sam in secret when you're finished practicing?"

Luna's eyes widen in realization upon coming to this simple answer. "That's actually a pretty good idea. Thanks Lincoln."

She hugs Lincoln, and he returns it. Upon breaking up the hug, Lincoln whistles at his sisters, alerting them to this development. "Great news, we figured out what to do!" informed Lincoln. The sisters each weakly gave them a thumbs up.

"If there's any spare teeth lying around, they're mine," says Lola before losing consciousness.

Next morning was a Saturday morning. Luna sluggishly awakens from her deep slumber to hear buzzing. Luna yawns loudly, stretching her arms and back. She looks to side of her bed, and she sees that her phone was blaring. Luna rubs the sleepiness from her eyes, and looks closely at the number projected on her screen. "Oh, it's just Sam calling me." Luna lets her phone buzz until it ceased before returning to bed. A few short minutes go by when Luna suddenly jolts out of her bed. "Oh my god, it's Sam! I'm late!"

Luna quickly runs to the bathroom, and jumps into the bathtub. She turns the water on fully expecting hot water to erupt from the shower drain. Unfortunately for her, it was ice cold water. The water slowly slithered down Luna's back, chilling her spine simultaneously. It felt as though icicles were being stabbed deeply into her body.

"Cold, cold, cold!" shouts Luna. She turns the water of, and races to her room to get her duds. The family was sitting at the table, hearing all of the commotion happening upstairs. "Boy, Luna is totes freaking out about this," says Leni observantly.

Lori nods her head in agreement. "She's in love, dear sister. I know that feeling."

"Right, when you first met Bobby, you were so nervous, that you had forgotten to get out of your pajamas!" declares Luan. All of the siblings make a joke out of this whilst Lori's cheeks blush red.

Without a moment's hesitation, Luna runs to the kitchen wearing mix-matched clothes. Everyone looked at her strangely. Luna could feel the awkwardness of the situation. "I'm sorry, guys."

"No, that's fine. Don't beat yourself up." Lincoln says reassuringly.

"I just really like her, Lincoln. I want to make a good impression." Luna tilts her head down ashamed.

"Come on, Luna," says Lori "let's get you ready. Trust me, if she likes you back, she wouldn't want you to worry about this silly thing.

Luna relents, and she follows Lori upstairs.

Luna arrives to Sam's house a few minutes late. When Sam sees Luna walking up, she crosses her arms in disappointment. "What was taking you long?" she asked accusingly.

Luna rubs the back of her head anxiously. She couldn't think of what to say. Just seeing Sam again made her stumble on her words. "I-I'm sorry." Sam looks her over observantly, and smiles warmly. "Well, I'm glad you could make it. Come on, let's get started."

The practice went on a couple of hours, each hour being greater than the last. Luna and Sam played on their bass guitars while the other girl played on the drums, and the leader of the group was the singer. Luna continued to play fluently until she allowed her eyes to drift towards Sam. Sam waved her blonde hair back and forth in a rapid matter; beams of sweat slid down her forehead. Luna blushed heavily at the sight of her beloved rocking out. Thoughts about just laying a kiss on her lips crossed her mind several times, but she tried to suppress this until the very end of their practice.

Eventually, practice ended, and the leader of the band called it quits. He packs up his microphone and leaves alongside the other girl. This left Luna and Sam alone. Finally, she could break the ice. Sam gathered her bass guitar, and she gently placed it into its case. Luna watched her a few more times, having her thoughts conflict with each other. "Come on, Luna, you can do this," Luna says trying to reassure herself. Sam was about to leave when Luna spoke up at last.

"H-hey, great job out there, Sam."

Sam looks back at her, her grin spreading across her face. "Thanks, Luna. That means a lot."

Luna sighs deeply. "Okay, good, now I'll just have to..."

Sam interrupts her train of thought. "Oh, I had forgotten; yesterday, I received a love letter from my locker."

Luna gulps in fear. "You have?"

"Yeah; I really need to meet whoever wrote it to thank them properly."

Luna twiddles her thumbs nervously. "Hey, Sam."

Sam turned her glance to the rock star. "What is it?"

Sweat dripped from Luna's forehead. God, why did she have to be so nervous? "Do you have any plans for this evening?"

"Plans?"

Luna giggled in dread. "Well, there was this movie that I was aiming to see, a-and we could probably hang out after that..."

Sam raises her eyebrow in confusion. She didn't have a clue as to what Luna was trying to suggest, but then it hit her.

"Oh. Listen, Luna..."

Luna was shaking in fear.

"You're real cool and all, but I'm not into chicks."

Luna's heart shatters on impact upon hearing these words. After everything they had been through, it would seem only logical that they would get together. Luna had feared that Sam would reject her because of her preferences, but she held onto that hope that maybe she'd be proven wrong. But her greatest fear just became realized. Luna looks down at the floor in rejection. Sam lightly taps her shoulder, understanding the levity of the situation.

"I'm sorry, Luna," says Sam in a comforting tone "maybe we can just be friends."

Luna looks at her dejectedly. Luna was trying to put on a face of understanding, but it was only self-evident that she simply didn't want to break down in front of her crush.

"Sure, no big deal." Luna gives Sam a weak thumbs up, and Sam heads back into her house, leaving her alone. Luna couldn't believe what just happened; earlier that day, she mustered up enough courage to give Sam the love letter, but now her whole world was in shambles as Sam simply wasn't into her. Tears streak from Luna's face as she gathers her bass guitar, and walks out of Sam's garage. Luna looked up at Sam's bedroom, her eyes red from the tears. She then began her long walk back to the Loud house.

"Dude..."

[queen-of-deans-booty]

May I Have This Dance?

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Word Count: 5,091 (my longest fic ever! I’m trying to write longer and longer ones for you guys.)

Warnings: None really

Summary: You, Sam, and Dean have a hunt that takes place on the most sentimental night in high school. Can you save everyone but get what you want? (THIS SUMMARY SUCKS ASS)

A/N: Towards the end, please listen to I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing by Aerosmith. This is my all time favorite song and I’m glad I finally got to make a fic based around this. 

“Sam, have you found anything out yet?” Dean asked from the kitchen table of the motel room you three shared.

“No, I haven’t. Y/N?” Sam asked you.

“Nothing. Can’t we just kill this thing like we do with a regular ghost?” You, Sam, and Dean were hunting a ghost that was terrorizing Lincoln High School. A student, Erika Little, that went there years ago, committed suicide and has been haunting the building ever since. The only problem was that Erika died on Prom night and that is the only time she was killing other students and staff. You didn’t know how to keep everyone safe and look for her bones.

“We can but how can we keep everyone safe?” Sam thought out loud.

“We could shut the Prom down.” Dean suggested.

“No! You will not do that.” You quickly stated. “This is the biggest night in high school and I won’t let you take that away from those kids.”

“Alright, alright, then what do you suppose we do? I’m all ears, sweetheart.” Dean took a swig of his beer and looked at you.

“I guess we will just have to attend the Prom.” You concluded.

“Excuse me?” Dean said, now on full alert.

“Are you sure that is the best way?” Sam asked.

“Yes, if we are in the inside, we can keep an eyes on everyone and be posted by the doors so no one leaves the room while one of us goes and looks for the bones. It seems like a logical solution.” You explained.

“She does have a point.” Sam agreed with you. Dean groaned and you knew he didn’t like this idea. He hated dancing and high school and kids in general.

“Fine but I’m not dancing. We go in, burn the bones, and get out. No funny business.” You smiled and clapped from excitement.

“You know what this means?” You had a huge grin on your face.

“Do I want to know?” Dean looked at his brother then at you.

“We gotta look the part if we want to get in and that means we need to go shopping because I don’t have a dress and you two need tuxes,” Both boys gave a groan but you weren’t having it. “We need to go now because Prom is tomorrow. Let’s just hope that there are still good dresses left.” You got up and was about to grab the keys to the Impala but Dean beat you to it.

“You tell me where to go.” You nodded and smiled, walking out to the beautiful car and getting in. Reluctantly, the boys got in and you three were off to the mall.

--

You shopped for Dean and Sam first so you needed to go to a store where they fitted tuxes for 30-year-old men. Once you walked in, two female associates were all over them and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. No, none of the Winchesters were yours but you couldn’t help but be possessive especially over the oldest one.

Sam was like a brother to you but Dean was much more than that. He was the guy that was there for you after every time a guy broke your heart or when you woke up with the worst hangover, or when you were sick, or bored, or just needing some company, or whatever it is that you wanted. He was always right there, ready to aid and assist.

Neither of you had what it took to ask the other one out because you both didn’t want to ruin your relationship with the other. Sam knew how you felt towards his brother and he knew how Dean felt towards you.

You told Sam to never tell Dean and he has been true to his word. He had told you countless of times that his brother liked you back but you never believed him. Why would a man as gorgeous and amazing as Dean Winchester like someone like you?

It wasn’t that you were ugly or thought of yourself as ugly but you were just the type of person that you would categorize yourself under ‘average’. You were over the top gorgeous but you weren’t ugly. You weren’t model skinny but you weren’t overweight. You were right in the middle of everything and you were happy to be there.

Dean didn’t go for average people like you so you gave up on anything happening between you two a long time ago. It made hunting and living with him a lot easier. However, from time to time, you have been finding yourself longing after him like you were doing now.

You watched as the female associates feel up Sam and Dean and give them jackets to try on and handed them pants that they thought would fit. You know that it would be hard to find pants that would fit Sam because of how tall he was but you let the girls do their thing.

After an hour of waiting around the store and looking at tuxes, Sam and Dean finally appeared from behind the curtain with their fitted tuxes.

Your mouth went dry as you looked at Dean. He looked good in anything he wore whether it would be just his sweats, pajamas, flannel, FBI suits, and now you can add tuxes to the list because damn. He looked so sharp even as one of the women was putting a bowtie on him. His eyes locked to yours but you couldn’t seem to look away.

You saw a small smirk start to form on his perfect face so you willed yourself to look away and your eyes locked on Sam’s. He gave you a look that said ‘I know why you were staring at Dean’ or something along those lines. You didn’t deny your feelings for Dean but you never acted upon them.

You waited by the doors as Sam and Dean got changed and bought their tuxes.

“That was the longest hour and half of my life.” Dean said as he and his brother walked to you.

“Oh but just you wait. We still need to shop for me. You thought getting you two tuxes were hard, mine will be like a fucking maze. You have to find the right color and the right style and the right size and then I have to figure out how I am going to do my makeup and my hair and what kind of shoes I want to wear.” You could go on for days but you were excited. You’ve never had a Prom much less a high school for too long. You were always bouncing around schools because your parents were in the Navy and you spent most of your childhood on base and then when you went to school, you never stayed for more than a couple of months.

Your mom or your dad were deployed and you had to move closer to the base they were staying at. It was hard because you never had any real friends and the ones you made rarely stay in touch with you now. Around this time of year, all you see on Facebook and Instagram are girls getting ready for the Prom and you can’t help but pine after that.

Prom was supposed to be this magical night for both girls and boys and you never got the chance to slow dance with the guy you loved, kiss him under all the lights, and pretend like it was only you two in the room.

But today was your chance to see it live in action, even if you were going there to protect all those kids. You dragged Sam and Dean to the nearest dress store and immediately, you were in awe of how many dresses were still on the racks. Usually with Prom so close, there wouldn’t be any dresses to even look at but today must be your lucky day.

Your eyes landed on so many different colored dresses so you started grabbing ones that you thought would fit and ran to the dressing room with them. You called for Sam and Dean to wait so you could get opinions on the dresses.

The first one was a bright blue dress that had a lacy top and was floor length. You walked out and Sam and Dean looked up at you. You could see the gears grinding in their heads before shaking their heads. You shrugged and picked out another dress to try on.

The second one was bright red and also floor length. It had diamond studs going down the sides of it and on the sleeves. It was backless with a slit starting from your mid-thigh. You walked out and looked in the mirror. You saw Dean nudge Sam and they both looked at you. Dean was trying to be respectful for you but he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to the slit in your dress.

“Dean?” His eyes snapped towards you. “My eyes are up here.” You gave him a wink and he blushed a bit.

“I don’t know about that one. Red looks good on you but not that style of dress.” Sam said casually. You nodded, impressed that he had so much to say about this dress.

“I guess I’ll go change.” You smiled and walked back into the dressing room. Once you were out of sight, you heard Dean scold Sam.

“Anything with a slit is good to go.” You giggled softly and picked out the next dress.

The next one was half maroon and half white. It, just like the others was floor length. The top half had studs all over it and was gorgeous but you didn’t know how it looked on it. You would go out and show the boys but you couldn’t get it zipped up.

“Dean?” You called out. Your mind immediately thought of Dean to help you even though Sam was a perfect candidate as well.

“Yeah?” You heard him call out.

“I need your help.” Not more than a couple seconds later, you saw Dean poke his head into the dressing room and his eyes widened at the sight of you. You had your back to him as you held your dress up while the zipper was down, showing off your back to him.

“Can you zip me up?” You looked at him in the mirror. You saw him swallow and nod, walking over to you. You froze when you felt his fingers graze your skin as he grasped the zipper in his fingers and zipped it up, slowly.

“There you go,” His hand gently touched your shoulder and he looked at you through the mirror.

“Do you like it?” You bit your lip and he raked his eyes down the front of your dress.

“It’s too plain, you want something that will make everyone turn their heads when you enter the room.” He never broke eye contact.

“I think I have just the one. Un zip me and I’ll put it on.” Once again, he swallowed and unzipped your dress and walked out of the dressing room. There was no doubt Sam was asking him what had happened. You didn’t need to hear what was going on to know. You picked out the dress you thought would turn heads.

You put on the best dress you had. If Dean wanted a head-turner, he would get one. It was a deep blue with a slit in the front, stopping right above your belly button. It was backless, stopping right above your ass and also had a slit from your mid-thigh. You knew that it would turn head and you were a thirty-year-old woman, prom dresses didn’t look good on you. You had to sneak in regular dresses without letting Sam or Dean see.

Your breasts were big enough to see the roundness of both breasts but small enough so that they didn’t touch each other. The dress clung to your body and showed off all the right curves. It was kind of long but you knew with the right shoes, you could easily rock this dress.

You walked out to see the boys not paying attention. You didn’t seem to care so you looked at yourself in the mirror.

“What do you think, boys?”

“Holy shit.” You heard Dean breathe out. Both men had their jaws slightly open as they drank in the sight of you. Sam stood up and walked over to you with a smile.

“I think this may be the one.” You smiled at him and turned to look at Dean. He visibly gulped and stood up slowly.

“Looking good, sweetheart.” Was all that he could manage. If he said anymore, it would be his dick talking and not his brain. You knew that this was the dress if that is how Dean reacted to it. You quickly changed out of the dress and into your normal clothes and bought it.

You had shoes at home that would go perfect with this so you decided to just leave the mall because you knew that Sam and Dean hated this; the looks on their faces told you everything despite their protests.

It took Dean half the time to get home and you weren’t complaining. You just wanted to go to sleep because shopping wasn’t really your thing and it took a lot out of you. When Dean parked Baby, the first thing you did was grab your dress and booked it to your room.

--

“Y/N! Are you almost ready? We need to go!” You were just putting on your finishing touches on your outfit.

“Yeah! Coming!!” You called back out to one of the boys. You looked into the mirror and smiled softly because you were finally getting a Prom even though you left high school 15 years ago. You dropped out when you were 15 years old because that is when you started hunting and left behind your life to pursue this new one.

You were so happy at how you turned out: hair straight, makeup on point, shoes so sparkly it almost lived up to the time Sam was covered in sparkles on one hunt that happened a while ago, dress so blue that you would have to mistake it for Castiel’s eyes.

You touched up on your lipstick and grabbed your handbag. With one last nod, she made her way to the library where the boys were in their tuxes. You heard an intake of breath and locked eyes with Dean as he stared at you.

You blushed at the intensity between you two before you heard Sam clear his throat.

“I hate to interrupt this but we need to go. They should be opening the doors soon.” Sam walked out to the Impala, leaving you and Dean alone.

“Shall we?” He held out his arm for you to take and you smiled.

“We shall.” You grabbed his hand and looked into his eyed before walking to the car with him. Once again, it took Dean no time at all to get the high school. When he pulled up to the school, everyone was staring at you, Sam and Dean.

When all three of you got out, all eyes were on Dean and Sam. They were gorgeous and stood out from all the guys since they looked like real men instead of all the boys that attended. You were in the middle of Sam and Dean, holding onto each of their arms as your heels clacked against the concrete.

When you got the booth where they were selling the tickets, you looked at the woman who was in charged and she looked at Dean first.

“Is Amelia Forster available?” You frowned and watched Dean ask about a women you’ve never heard of.

“Yes, I’ll go and get her.” She left the booth only to return with an older woman and she smiled once she made eye contact with Dean and Sam.

“Dean! Sam! How are you guys!” She rounded the table to give the boys hugs. “Who is this?” She looked at you with a smile.

“I am Y/N Y/L/N. I work with them.” You shook her hand with a tight smile.

“Nice to meet you. I’ll get you inside and I’ll try to keep all the students in the gymnasium. Please work fast. I don’t need any of my students dying.” Dean nodded and followed Amelia inside the place.

“Who is she?” You whispered to Sam.

“We helped her on another case a while back and told her to call if she ever needed us and she did. Well she called me, she liked me better than Dean back then.” You nodded, not needing an explanation.

You gasped as you walked inside the room. It was more than you could ever imagine. You had a sense of longing inside of you and watched all the kids dance and have fun despite the dangers that wait for them.

“Okay, we’ll take it from here.” Dean told Amelia and she left you three to it. “Sam, why don’t you go try and find the bones. We will secure the doors and make sure that no one gets hurt.” Sam nodded, knowing that it won’t do any good in trying to argue with Dean and left. You were about to go to one of the doors when Dean stopped you.

“I saw you when you walked in.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it was like you didn’t enjoy your prom and this one was much better.” You sighed and looked down at your feet.

“I never had a Prom, Dean. I dropped out of high school before that could happen. I wish I had one; this looks amazing.” You gave him a tight smile and got out of his grasp, walking over to a door and watching the kids. You missed the look in Dean’s eyes; he had something up his sleeve.

--

The prom went on a normal and it was very close to 11 when you saw the lights start to flicker. Your eyes widened but none of the kids seemed to notice. You ran over to Dean as much as your heels could let you and put your lips to his ear because of the loud music.

“How is Sam holding up? It’s been a while. Go check on him, I’ll be fine here.” You pulled away and he nodded. He sighed and took off down the hall to go find his brother. You stood there for about 10 minutes when you heard screeching come from above. You looked up to see the ghost of Erika Little and reached into your handbag for the tiny gun you had in there with salt bullets.

When you pulled out your gun, some of the students screamed and that made everyone turn in your direction.

“EVERYBODY OUT!” You screamed at them. Some look up to where your gun was pointed and some left immediately after you said it. The ghost flew down towards the students but before she had a chance to hurt anyone, you shot it, Erika disappearing instantly.

The rest of the students who stayed left the gymnasium and you sighed; you didn’t want their Prom ruined. Amelia came rushing in and she saw only you that was left.

“Did she appear?” You nodded and threw your handbag down as you held your gun.

“Yeah. Make sure no one comes in. Sam and Dean are trying to find her bones.” She nodded and left the room. Erika suddenly appeared in front of you but gave you no time to react as she threw you against the bleachers and you grunted, fixing your dress and looked up at her.

Your gun was too far away to grab it and you saw her advancing to you. You panicked because you didn’t know what to do., You were in no way dressed to fight her and you saw no iron to hurt her; you were shit out of luck.

“Y/N!” You heard Dean say as he barged in the room and shot the ghost right as she was about to attack you. He raced over to you and helped you up. You made sure your dress was still covering everything and it was, miraculously.

“Are you okay?” He looked at you to make sure that you didn’t have any injuries.

“Yes, I’m fine Dean. Please tell me that Sam found her bones.”

“He did and she came because she was pissed but I took care of her.” He smirked slightly. You touched his bowtie that he had one and smoothed out the fine material.

“You didn’t even ruin your tux.” You looked into his eyes and realized just how close you were to him. Nothing was able to happen between the two of you when you saw Erika appear behind Dean.

“Dean, behind you.” Your eyes widened and he turned around, his gun ready to shot. He never got the chance because all of a sudden, she was in flames and the next moment, she was gone. The room was now filled with party lights and silence.

“Stay right here, I am going to find Sam.” You nodded and he took off once again. You made your way to the front entrance and opened it, calling out for Amelia.

“Is she gone?”

“All gone. She won’t be bothering you anymore, or anyone for that matter.” She smiled and gave you a hug.

“I really appreciate you doing this. You saved us from a lot of heartbreak.”

“I would definitely talk to those kids. They saw things they don’t need to be seeing.” She nodded and let you be by yourself. You walked back into the gymnasium just in time to see Dean walking in.

“I’m am so ready to go home and take a really long nap.” You got your handbag and turned away from Dean, waiting for him to follow you. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar tune start to fill the large room. It was one of your favorite songs and you wanted to get married to this song.

You turned around and saw Dean standing there with his hand outstretched.

“May I have this dance?” You got tears at the sight of this. You dropped your handbag and slowly made your way to him. “Sam will be back in a couple of hours. But for right now, all that matters is you.” He informed you.

“I thought you don’t dance.” You took his hand and smiled softly at him.

“I will for you. After all, you are my Prom date.” You couldn’t find the will to lose your smile as he pulled you close.

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing

Watch you smile while you are sleeping

While you're far away and dreaming

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender

I could stay lost in this moment forever

Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

You stared into his eyes the entire time as he swayed with you to the beat of the song. This song meant so much to you like how much love another person could have for another; you loved Dean so much and this song fit perfectly with it. What you didn’t know was that this song was Dean’s way of confessing his love to you. You two seem to move as one; like the two of you were meant to be doing this. His hand fit perfectly in yours and you felt his hand rest at the small of your back.

Fireworks erupted once his skin made contact with yours. Even if this room was filled with a hundred people, you wouldn’t care because all you could focus on was the man you were dancing with. Nothing could ruin what you were sharing with Dean; nothing.

Don't wanna close my eyes

I don't wanna fall asleep

'Cause I'd miss you, baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream would never do

I'd still miss you, baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

He leaned down just enough to rest his forehead on you and you couldn’t help but close your eyes; but not Dean. He kept his eyes open so he could take in everything this moment had to offer. He pulled you in even closer, never wanting to let you go.

He swayed softly with you to the beat and moved his hand up further up your back. You opened your eyes to see what he was going to do when he dipped you, holding you tightly in his arms so he wouldn’t drop you. You know he wouldn’t let you fall. You stared into his eyes as your hair cascaded down.

Dean’s jaw clenched as he drank you in, keeping you dipped for a few moments longer before pulling you back up to his level.

Lying close to you feeling your heart beating

And I'm wondering what you're dreaming,

Wondering if it's me you're seeing

Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together

And I just wanna stay with you

In this moment forever, forever and ever

Your breath was taken away when he pulled you so close that your ear was pressed to his chest, listening to his heart beat; steady and calm unlike yours. You looked up at him as he leaned down. You closed your eyes, expecting him to kiss your waiting lips but you felt his soft, plump lips land on your eyelids.

Your heart did a 360 flip and you couldn’t fall more in love with him as you already were. All of a sudden, he spun you in a slow circle, moving you away from him and then spinning you back towards his body.

Don't wanna close my eyes

I don't wanna fall asleep

'Cause I'd miss you, baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream would never do

I'd still miss you, baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

You giggled as he pulled you back in but lost it when you heard him start to sing to you. You only heard him sing once before in the shower. You always asked him to sing to you but he always refused because he claimed he wasn’t good.

You looked into his eyes as he sang, knowing he was meaning every word from the song. He moved both of his hands to your waist and you subconsciously moved your arms around his neck. There was only one thing that you wanted more than this.

I don't wanna miss one smile

I don't wanna miss one kiss

Well, I just wanna be with you

Right here with you, just like this

I just wanna hold you close

I feel your heart so close to mine

And just stay here in this moment

For all the rest of time, yeah, yeah, yeah!

Dean stared into your eyes and for a split second he gave you the option to stop him but you weren’t going to do that. He pressed his lips to your colored ones with passion. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back as your arms tightened around his neck.

Sparks exploded and your whole body felt as if it was blossoming with fire that only Dean could put out. He pushed your lips apart with his tongue and the minute his tongue touched yours, your knees gave away but that didn’t matter since he had a tight grip on you. He held you so close and it felt as if your body was meant to be next to his; like his heart was only meant for yours.

Don't wanna close my eyes

Don't wanna fall asleep

'Cause I'd miss you, baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

 'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream would never do

I'd still miss you, baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

 I don't wanna close my eyes

I don't wanna fall asleep

'Cause I'd miss you, baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

You were the one to pull away since you needed air. You smiled as you stared into his eyes, realizing that you never want to look into another pair of eyes for the rest of your life. You put your head in the crook of his neck and stayed like that, swaying to the music that was blaring throughout the whole room.

You knew, from this moment on, that you and Dean were walking into something special. You never wanted to wake up alone anymore, be in another man’s arms, or love any other man that wasn’t Dean.

No matter what kind of supernatural crap that would throw itself at you and the boys, you wanted to be by Dean’s side through it all. You two conquered so much together; you knew what made Dean tick, what Dean loved, what he liked and what he didn’t like.

'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream would never do

and I'd still miss you, baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing

 Don't wanna close my eyes

I don't wanna fall asleep, yeah

I don't wanna miss a thing

I don't wanna miss a thing

Every night that you slept alone, it was filled with nightmares or that you didn’t get pleasant dreams. But for the nights where you were to share a bed with Dean, your dreams were filled with Dean and all things pleasurable. He made you feel safe and he was the only guy that ever did that for you.

You stayed like that with Dean for the rest of the time before Sam was instructed to come get you. You pulled away to look into his eyes, getting lost in the swirls of candy green. No words were mean to be exchanged because you knew how he felt and he knew how you felt. You hoped he did because you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t love him.

You leaned up and kissed his lips once again but pulled away so that your lips only brush against his.

“I love you, too.” You whispered against them. You knew he knew but you wanted him to hear you say it. Here’s to a rocky road that you wouldn’t want to spend with anyone else with.

[actutrends]

Week 14 observations you can steal to impress your friends

Another week of NFL action is in the books, but what did we learn and what takes can you steal to impress your friends and co-workers?

With just three games left this year, we only have two teams officially in the playoffs. That means these final weeks will feel less like molding something out of clay and more like forging the playoff picture out of cold steel.

It’s going to be fun.

But beyond just the playoff picture, a lot of things are happening between the lines that are absolutely fascinating. Huge plays, bad calls, and loyal fans all defined this past week in the NFL and we have a lot to unpack.

So before we get too ahead of ourselves, let’s ponder what we saw and come up with some observations you can use around the water cooler to sound like the Lamar Jackson of your friend group.

Jimmy G answered the haters

For as bone-rattling as the San Francisco 49ers defense has been all year, the biggest question we had about their Super Bowl chances was Jimmy Garoppolo. Was he capable, when called upon, of getting into a shootout with Drew Brees or Aaron Rodgers and winning?

He proved as much on Sunday.

Robert Saleh’s vaunted defense gave up a season-high 46-points and allowed Drew Brees to score 5 touchdowns, but it was Garoppolo who executed the game-winning drive. San Francisco won on the road in the Superdome in a shootout specifically because of their quarterback.

Of course, with a huge assist from George Kittle.

Kittle optically put the team on his back, but Garoppolo did so in every other way. That throw to Kittle was a fourth-and-two play; the game — and any shot at the No. 1 seed in the NFC — was on the line. When Garoppolo threw that ball to Kittle the Niners were the fifth-seed in the NFC playoffs. Less than a minute later they owned home field advantage.

Garoppolo delivered that.

This was the type of game he needed to have in order to prove to everyone he wasn’t the weak link some may have thought he was. Maybe it doesn’t happen again, maybe the Niners lose in the playoffs because Garoppolo makes a mistake. Maybe they lose the top seed between now and the end of the season — who knows. What we do know is that until proven otherwise we have to operate under the assumption that if the Niners need him to, Garoppolo is absolutely capable of playing Big Boy football when it counts.

Mitchell Trubusky will be the Bears QB in 2020

Let’s just cut right to it: Mitchell Trubusky will be back as the Bears quarterback in 2020.

While everyone else in the NFL is spending their time slamming Jason Garrett and discussing his future, the Trubisky narrative quietly slipped out the back door and into the night. Now fans in Chicago are left with whatever the ramifications from this are.

For as bad as he’s been this year, it was going to take a lot for Ryan Pace and the front office to move on from Trubisky and very little to justify keeping him. Fans can throw themselves against a padded wall as much as they want but they weren’t the ones who traded up in the draft to take Trubisky.

Their legacy isn’t tethered to the success of Trubisky.

Even Pace outlasts Trubisky in Chicago, he needs him to play well enough now to keep the heat off until one of two things happen:

A) Trubisky improves and develops into a franchise quarterback B) Pace finds a replacement that is good enough to erase the bitter taste Trubisky is leaving

Option A is the best because it means Pace was right. It’s also the most dangerous because it means the pursuit of being right, something that has felled many general managers throughout the history of football.

Bears fans might not want to hear it but Trubisky is Pace’s guy, and it’s going to take more than one lost season to change that. How much long term damage this does or doesn’t cause is yet to be seen.

Patriots fans got a taste of their own medicine

Stop me if you’ve heard this before, but there was some fishy officiating in a Patriots game. The plot twist was that, for the first time in human history, the calls went against New England.

Usually, around this time of the year when the Patriots play an AFC team with something involving the playoffs on the line, a call happens that affects the outcome of the game. But it usually benefits New England, where on Sunday the calls helped Kansas City get hand Bill Belichick and Tom  Brady their first home loss since 2017.

The worst call was N’Keal Harry being ruled out of bounds short of the goal line when he absolutely was not:

Officials also missed a blatant pass interference call the drive after that:

There was also play earlier in the game where the Patriots clearly recovered a fumble and returned it for a touchdown, but the play was blown dead.

Three missed calls, all of which would have changed the course of the game.

Some of this is on Belichick, which is also incredibly shocking. Because the Patriots had lost two challenges before the fourth quarter even started, there was no way to review the Harry play or the missed pass interference.

No one is crying any tears for calls not going the Patriots way, but it was a stunning dose of reality that fans in New England aren’t often forced to swallow.

Lamar Jackson’s white glove troll is G.O.A.T.-worthy

Earlier this week San Francisco 49ers radio color commentator Tim Ryan was suspended for making comments about how the color of Lamar Jackson’s skin helps him disguise the ball on RPOs.

Richard Sherman said he wasn’t offended but thought there was a better way to have said it. Depending on what part of Twitter you wade into, it was either the worst thing ever said or the libs getting triggered. It was a deeply stupid thing to say, but Lamar Jackson had the final word.

Jackson started Sunday’s game in Buffalo with white sleeves and gloves and proceeded to do exactly what he always does — juke defenders out of their souls.

This isn’t the first time Jackson has quietly thrown u both middle fingers at his haters and it won’t be the last. Some folks still cling to the idea that he’s “athletic” but not a good quarterback — which is coded and thinly veiled racism — something that Jackson, the Ravens, and Ravens fans happily continue to throw back at everyone.

Meanwhile, here’s Marcus Peters maybe shotgunning a beer with fans after the game to serve as the latest exhibit in why you should be in love with this Ravens team.

Perhaps he was just letting out a joyous yell at the same time a beer was being poured near his face. The mere fact that we have to ask that but also don’t really care is why we should cherish this run Baltimore is on.

Cleveland needs Ron Rivera

Before Sunday’s game, there were rampant reports that Odell Beckham Jr wants out of Cleveland. After the game, Baker Mayfield attacked his own franchise by saying the medical team purposefully didn’t handle Beckham’s sports hernia and therefore derailed his season.

The Browns won on Sunday, for what it’s worth.

For all the hype the Browns had this offseason — all the Baker commercials and trash talk, the flashy trades and high-priced moves — this year has been a total wash. Bad decisions, drama, and losing have defined what we all thought would be a watershed season for a habitually horrible franchise.

What Cleveland needs is a culture change. Ron Rivera is the man for the job, and he happens to be looking for one at the moment.

To hire Rivera, the Browns would need to fire Freddie Kitchens which it doesn’t seem like they’re going to do right now. But if the Haslam’s are serious about getting something out of this Baker era, something drastic is needed. Rivera isn’t a flashy hire like Lincoln Riley would be, but he’s a culture guy who would instantly come in and change everything. People would point to his mediocre record in Carolina but what those people would be saying is they don’t watch football. Rivera took the Panthers from a middling franchise to one that was always in the playoffs — sometimes with a losing record. Oh yeah, he also helped develop the franchise’s star quarterback into a star while leading the Panthers to a Super Bowl less than a half-decade ago.

Cleveland has a ton of talent but has no rudder. Riverboat Ron is the perfect man to take the Browns and finally help them become something better than they are.

Raiders fans deserve better than this

Oakland lost by more than 20-points on Sunday, but that wasn’t the saddest thing that happened.

The saddest thing happened when Raiders receiver Rico Gafford scored a 49-yard touchdown and then leaped into a sea of black and silver behind the endzone.

That doesn’t look like a fanbase that has abandoned a franchise so badly that it needs to leave town — but that’s what’s happening. The Raiders will play one more home game in Oakland before leaving for Las Vegas next season, leaving behind the sort of atmosphere that Gafford launched himself into after scoring.

Whenever a franchise has packed up and left a city, the games are usually played in front of mostly empty stadiums and without much fanfare. But the Raiders were in the playoff hunt a week ago and played in front of sold-out crowds all season long.

If you’ve ever been to the Coliseum, it’s not the type of place you want to breathe through your mouth while you’re at let alone pay money to spend an entire afternoon there. Yet Raiders fans have filled a crappy stadium to cheer on a team that won’t be there next year. It was mentioned during the broadcast that Jon Gruden recognized faces in the crowd who were there during his first tenure with the Raiders all the way back in the 90s.

That’s not a fanbase that deserves to lose its team.

Meanwhile, amid the recognition of how loyal and hardcore Raiders fans are, there was a shot of Mark Davis, the man who so badly managed his money that he couldn’t afford to sign Khalil Mack, sitting in his owner’s box shit-eatingly laughing the afternoon away.

You don’t have to be a Raiders fan for that to make you angry.

The post Week 14 observations you can steal to impress your friends appeared first on Actu Trends.

[networkingdefinition]

Horse Quotes

Official Website: Horse Quotes

        “…for there is no other feeling in the world to compare with it if one loves a great horse. It gives a thrill that nothing else ever can. It cannot be put into words, because words cannot express it.” – Samuel Riddle

“A canter is a cure for every evil.” – Benjamin Disraeli

“A dog looks up to a man. A cat looks own on a man. But a patient horse looks a man in the eye and sees him as an equal.” – Unknown

“A dog may be man’s best friend… but the horse wrote history.” – Unknown

“A fly may sting a stately horse and make him wince; but one is an insect, and the other a hose still.” —Samuel Johnson

“A good rider can hear his horse speak to him. A great rider can hear his horse whisper.” – Unknown

“A great horse will change your life. The truly special ones define it.” – Unknown

“A horse can lend its rider the speed and strength he or she lacks – but the rider who is wise remembers it is no more than a loan.” – Pam Brown

“A horse doesn’t care how much you know until he knows how much you care. Put your hand on your horse and your heart in your hand.” – Pat Parelli

“A horse gallops with his lungs, perseveres with his heart, and wins with his character.” – Tesio

“A horse in the wind – a perfect symphony.”

“A horse is a thing of beauty… none will tire of looking at him as long as he displays himself in his splendor.” – Xenophon

“A horse is dangerous at both ends and uncomfortable in the middle.” —Ian Flemming

“A horse is the projection of peoples’ dreams about themselves – strong, powerful, beautiful – and it has the capability of giving us escape from our mundane existence.” – Pam Brown

“A horse is wonderful by definition.” —Piers Anthony

“A horse is worth more than riches.” – Spanish proverb

“A horse loves freedom, and the weariest old workhorse will roll on the ground or break into a lumbering gallop when he is turned loose into the open.” —Gerald Rafferty

“A horse never runs so fast as when he has other horses to catch up and outpace.” – Ovid

“A horse, a horse! My kingdom for a horse!” – William Shakespeare

“A large and liquid eye… the swirl of dust around pounding hooves… these, then, are the images that move us.” – Unknown

“A man on a horse is spiritually as well as physically bigger than a man on foot.” – John Steinbeck

“A pony is a childhood dream; a horse is an adult treasure.” – Rebecca Carroll

“A stubborn horse walks behind you, an impatient horse walks in front of you, but a noble companion walks beside you.” – Unknown

“A stubborn horse walks behind you, an impatient horse walks in front of you,

“A true horseman does not look at the horse with his eyes, he looks at his horse with his heart.”

“All horses deserve, at least once in their lives, to be loved by a little girl.”

“All music is folk music. I ain’t never heard a horse sing a song.”  Louis Armstrong

“And indeed, a horse who bears himself proudly is a thing of such beauty and astonishment that he attracts the eyes of all beholders. No one will tire of looking at him as long as he will display himself in his splendor.” – Xenophon

“Ask me to show you poetry in motion and I will show you a horse.”~ Author Unknown

“At its finest, rider and horse are joined not by tack, but by trust. Each is totally reliant upon the other. Each is the selfless guardian of the other’s very well-being.” – Unknown

“Before I loved horses, I had nothing to live for. Now I love horses and can’t stop seeing things to live for.” – Unknown

“Being on a horse is one of my most natural places to be.” – Sinbad

“Bread may feed my body, but my horse feeds my soul.” – Unknown

“Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway.” – John Wayne

“Did you ever see an unhappy horse? Did you ever see a bird that had the blues? One reason why birds and horses are not unhappy is because they are not trying to impress other birds and horses.” —Dale Taylor

“God forbid that I should go to any heaven in which there are no horses.” —R.B. Cunningham-Graham

“Half the failures in life result from pulling in one’s horse when it is leaping.”~ Author Unknown

“He doth nothing but talk of his horse.” —William Shakespeare

“He knows when you’re happy. He knows when you’re comfortable. He knows when you’re confident. And he always knows when you have carrots.” – Unknown

“His hooves pound the beat, your heart sings the song.”~ Jerry Shulman

“His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage. He is indeed, a horse.”

“Horse sense is the thing a horse has which keeps it from betting on people.” – W.C. Fields

“Horse thou art truly a creature, for thou fliest without wings and conquorest without a sword.” – Unknown

“Horses are like shoes – you need one in every color.” – Unknown

“Horses change lives. They give our young people confidence and self-esteem. They provide peace and tranquility to troubled souls. They give us hope!” – Toni Robinson

“Horses lend us the wings we lack.” – Unknown

“I am still under the impression that there is nothing alive quite so beautiful as a horse.” – John Galsworthy

“I call horses ‘divine mirrors’ – they reflect back the emotions you put in. If you put in love and respect and kindness and curiosity, the horse will return that.” – Allan Hamilton

“I can make a General in five minutes, but a good horse is hard to replace.” – Abraham Lincoln

“I frequently dream of being on these horses’ backs and running across a field. And the horse and I are one.” – William Shatner

“I have seen things so beautiful they have brought tears to my eyes. Yet none of them can match the gracefulness and beauty of a horse running free.”

“I heard a neigh. Oh, such a brisk and melodious neigh it was. My very heart leapt with the sound.” – Nathaniel Hawthorne

“I love the horse from hoof to head, From head to hoof and tail to mane. I love the horse as I have said, From head to hoof and back again.” —James Whitcomb Riley

“If a horse has four legs, and I’m riding it, I think I can win.” – Charles Caleb Colton

“If you are fearful, a horse will back off. IF you are calm and confident, it will come forward. For those who are often flattered or feared, the horse can be a welcome mirror of the best in human nature.” – Claire Balding

“If you have seen nothing but the beauty of their markings and limbs,their true beauty is hidden from you.”

“If you want a stable friendship, get a horse.” – Unknown

“If your horse says “no”, you either asked the wrong question, or asked the question wrong.” – Pat Parelli

“In riding a horse, we borrow freedom.” – Helen Thomson

“In the end, we don’t know what horses can do. We only know that when, over the past thousands of years, we have asked something more of them, at least some of them have readily supplied it.” – Jane Smiley

“In the steady gaze of the horse shines a silent eloquence that speaks of love and loyalty, strength and courage. It is the window that reveals to us how willing is his spirit, how generous his heart.” – Unknown

“In their eyes shine stars of wisdom and courage to guide men to the heavens.”~ Jodie Mitchell

“It is best not to swap horses while crossing the river.” —Abraham Lincoln

“It is the horse’s gift to connect us with Heaven and our own footsteps.” – Ronni Sweet

“It’s hard to lead a cavalry charge if you think you look funny on a horse.” – Adlai Stevenson I

“I’ve spent most of my life riding horses. The rest I’ve just wasted.”

“Let a horse whisper in your eat and breathe on your heart. You will never regret it.” – Unknown

“Life is like a dressage test. If you’re too busy thinking about your last move, the next one won’t be any good either.” – Unknown

“Looking for love is tricky business, like whipping a carousel horse.” – George Cukor

“Many people have sighed for the ‘good old days’ and regretted the ‘passing of the horse’. But today, when only those who like horses own them, it is a far better time for horses.” – C.W. Anderson

“My horses are my friends, not my slaves.” – Reiner Klimke

“No Heaven can Heaven be, if my horse isn’t there to welcome me.” – Unknown

“No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle.” – Winston Churchill

“No matter how big or small you are, your horse is always there for you when you need your spirit lifted.” – Unknown

“No philosophers so thoroughly comprehend us as dogs and horses.” – Herman Melville

“Of all animals kept for the recreation of mankind, the horse is alone capable of exciting a passion that shall be absolutely hopeless.” —Bret Harte

“On the back of a horse you will find Paradise.”

“One can get in a car and see what man has made. One must get on a horse to see what God has made.” – Unknown

“One must think when looking at a horse in motion, that he hears music inside his head.” – Unknown

“One of the best pieces of advice I ever got was from a horse master. He told me to go slow to go fast. I think that applies to everything in life. We live as though there aren’t enough hours in the day but if we do each thing calcly and carefully we will get it done quicker and with much less stress.” – Viggo Mortensen

“One who believes that he has mastered the art of horsemanship has not yet begun to understand the horse.” – Unknown

“Our hoofbeats were many, but our hearts beat as one.”

“People ought to quit worrying so much about whispering to their horses and just start listening to them.” —Greg Darnall

“Riding a horse is not a gentle hobby, to be picked up and laid down like a game of solitaire. It is a grand passion.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Slippery-smooth rhythmic motion, absolute single-minded purpose, motion for the pleasure of motion itself. It was terrible it its beauty, the flight of the horse.”~ Larry Niven, Rainbow Mars

“Somewhere…somewhere in time’s own space, There must be some sweet pastured place Where creeks sing on and tall trees grow, Some Paradise where horses go.

“Stay away from a horse long enough and you’ll start tapping your fingers to the beat of a trot.”~ Author Unknown

“Stay away from a horse long enough and you’ll start tapping your fingers to the beat of a trot.” – Unknown

“Success is like a wild horse. If you do not know how to handle it, it will throw you off and look for another rider who can handle it well.” – Ajith Kumar

“The air of heaven is that which blows between a horse’s ears.”

“The earth would be nothing without the people, but the man would be nothing without the horse.” ~ Author Unknown

“The essential joy of being with horses is that it brings us in contact with the rare elemtns of grace, beauty, spirit, and freedom.” – Sharon Ralls Lemon

“The hardest thing about riding… is the ground.” – Unknown

“The history of mankind is carried on the back of a horse.” – Unknown

“The horse is an archetypal symbol which will always find ways to stir up deep and moving ancestral memories in every human being.” —Paul Mellon

“The horse moved like a dancer, which is not surprising. A horse is a beautiful animal, but it is perhaps most remarkable because it moves as if it always hears music.” —Mark Helprin

“The horse you get off is not the same as the horse you got on. It is your job as a rider to ensure that as often as possible, the change is for the better.” – Unknown

“The horse, with beauty unsurpassed, strength immeasurable and grace unlike any other, still remains humble enough to carry a man upon his back.” – Amber Senti

“The horse. Here is nobility without conceit, friendship without envy, beauty without vanity. A willing servant, yet never a slave.” —Ronald Duncan

“The love for a horse is just as complicated as the love for another human being… if you never love a horse, you will never understand.” – Unknown

“The only sport I’m not interested in is horse racing. That’s because I don’t know the horses personally.” – Nat King Cole

“The sunshine’s golden gleam is thrown, on sorrel, chestnut, bay and roan.” —Oliver Wendell Holmes

“The wagon rests in winter, the sleigh in summer, the horse never.” – Yiddish proverb

“The way to heaven is on horseback.”

“The world is best viewed through the ears of a horse.” – Unknown

“Then they worry, because no matter how brilliantly they perform their jobs, success comes down to the horses, and Thoroughbreds are anarchists at heart.” – Nan Mooney

“There are many wonderful places in the world, but one of my favorite places is on the back of my horse.” – Rolf Kopfle

“There are some things better left unsaid… but you can bet a cowgirl will say them anyway!” – Unknown

“There is no secret so close as that between a rider and his horse.” – R.S. Surtees

“There is something about riding down the street on a prancing horse that makes you feel like something, even when you ain’t a thing.”~ Will Rogers

“There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.” – Sir Winston Churchill

“Through his mane and tail the high wind sings, fanning the hairs who wave like feather’d wings.” —William Shakespeare

“Through the days of love and celebration and joy, and through the dark days of mourning – the faithful horse has been with us always.” – Elizabeth Cotton

“Through the days of love and celebration and joy, and through the dark days of mourning – the faithful horse has been with us always.”~ Elizabeth Cotton

“To many, the words love, hope and dreams are synonymous with horses.” – Unknown

“To many, the words love, hope and dreams are synonymous with horses.”

“To ride on a horse is to fly without wings”.~ Author Unknown

“To see a horse is to see an angel on earth.”~ Author Unknown

“To see the wind’s power, the rain’s cleansing and the sun’s radiant life,

“To understand the soul of a horse is the closest human beings can come to knowing perfection.” – Unknown

“Virtue shall be bound into the hair of thy forelock.  I have given thee the power of flight without wings.”

“We have all forgotten how strange a thing it is that so huge and powerful and intelligent an animal as a horse should allow another, and far more feeble animal, to ride upon its back.” —Peter Gray

“We have almost forgotten how strange a thing it is that so huge and powerful and intelligent an animal as a horse should allow another, and far more feeble animal, to ride upon his back.”~ Peter Gray

“We have almost forgotten how strnage a thing it is that so huge and powerful and intelligent an animal as a horse should allow another, and far more feeble animal, to ride upon its back.” – Peter Gray

“We kept him until he died… and sat with him during the long last minutes when a horse comes closest to seeming human.” – C.J. Mullen

“We who choose to surround ourselves with lives more temporary than our own live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful aps, we still would live no other way. We cherich memory as the only certain immoirtality, never fully understanding the necessary plan. The life of a horse, often half our own, eems endless until one day. That day has come and gone for me, and I am once again within a somewhat smaller circle.” – Irving Townsend

“We will never have to tell our horse that we are sad, happy, confident, angry, or relaxed. He already knows – long before we do.” – Marjike de Jong

“What does riding horses give us? An escape from the world. Exercise in fresh air. Adrenaline rushes. Healing through the bond.” – Unknown

“When a horse greets you with a nicker and regards you with a large and liquid eye,

“When a horse offers their face to you, they’re interested in what you are, what you’re doing. They’re paying attention.” – Brady Jandreau

“When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more muscal than the pipe of Hermes.” – William Shakespeare

“When I hear somebody talk about a horse or cow being stupid, I figure it’s a sure sign that the animal has outfoxed them.” —Tom Dorrance

“When the Almighty put hoofs on the wind and a bridle on the lightning, He called it a horse.” – Unknown

“When you are on a great horse, you have the best seat you will ever have.” – Sir Winston Churchill

“When your horse follows you without being asked, when he rubs his head on yours,

“When you’re young and you fall off a horse, you may break something. When you’re my age and you fall off, you splatter.”~ Roy Rogers

“Whena  horse greets you with a nicker and regards you with a large and liquid eye, the question of where you want to be has been answered.” – Unknown

“Whenever you observe a horse closely, you feel as if a hum being sitting inside were making fun of you.” —Elias Canetti

“Where in this wide world can man find nobility without pride, friendship without envy, or beauty without vanity? Here where grace is laced with muscle and strength by gentleness confined.” – Ronald Duncan

“Wherever man has left his footprints in the long ascent from barbarism to civilization, we find the hoofprints of a horse beside it.” – John Trotwood Moore

“Whoever said a horse was dumb, was dumb.” – Will Rogers

“Will is to grace as the horse is to the rider.” – Saint Augustine

“You and your horse. His strenght nad beauty. Your knowledge and patience and determination and understanding and love. That’s what fuses the two of you onto this marvelous partnership that makes you wonder… ‘ What can heaven offer any better than what I have here on earth?’.” – Monica Dickens

“You can see what man made from the seat of an automobile, but the best way to see what God made is from the back of a horse.”

“You took care of your horse, and your horse took care of you.” – Elton Gallegly

“You took me to adventure and to love. We two have shared great joy and great sorrow. And now I stand at the gate of the paddock watching you run in an ecstacy of freedom, knowing you will return to stand quietly, loyally, beside me.” – Pam Brown

“You try to do the best with what you’ve got and ignore everything else. That’s why horses get blinders in hose racing: You look at the horse next to you, and you lose a step.” – Jimmy Lovine

“Your horse’s behavior always seems to depend on the number of people watching you.” – Unknown

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Producct', keywords: 'Horse', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_horse').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_horse img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

[equitiesstocks]

Horse Quotes

Official Website: Horse Quotes

        “…for there is no other feeling in the world to compare with it if one loves a great horse. It gives a thrill that nothing else ever can. It cannot be put into words, because words cannot express it.” – Samuel Riddle

“A canter is a cure for every evil.” – Benjamin Disraeli

“A dog looks up to a man. A cat looks own on a man. But a patient horse looks a man in the eye and sees him as an equal.” – Unknown

“A dog may be man’s best friend… but the horse wrote history.” – Unknown

“A fly may sting a stately horse and make him wince; but one is an insect, and the other a hose still.” —Samuel Johnson

“A good rider can hear his horse speak to him. A great rider can hear his horse whisper.” – Unknown

“A great horse will change your life. The truly special ones define it.” – Unknown

“A horse can lend its rider the speed and strength he or she lacks – but the rider who is wise remembers it is no more than a loan.” – Pam Brown

“A horse doesn’t care how much you know until he knows how much you care. Put your hand on your horse and your heart in your hand.” – Pat Parelli

“A horse gallops with his lungs, perseveres with his heart, and wins with his character.” – Tesio

“A horse in the wind – a perfect symphony.”

“A horse is a thing of beauty… none will tire of looking at him as long as he displays himself in his splendor.” – Xenophon

“A horse is dangerous at both ends and uncomfortable in the middle.” —Ian Flemming

“A horse is the projection of peoples’ dreams about themselves – strong, powerful, beautiful – and it has the capability of giving us escape from our mundane existence.” – Pam Brown

“A horse is wonderful by definition.” —Piers Anthony

“A horse is worth more than riches.” – Spanish proverb

“A horse loves freedom, and the weariest old workhorse will roll on the ground or break into a lumbering gallop when he is turned loose into the open.” —Gerald Rafferty

“A horse never runs so fast as when he has other horses to catch up and outpace.” – Ovid

“A horse, a horse! My kingdom for a horse!” – William Shakespeare

“A large and liquid eye… the swirl of dust around pounding hooves… these, then, are the images that move us.” – Unknown

“A man on a horse is spiritually as well as physically bigger than a man on foot.” – John Steinbeck

“A pony is a childhood dream; a horse is an adult treasure.” – Rebecca Carroll

“A stubborn horse walks behind you, an impatient horse walks in front of you, but a noble companion walks beside you.” – Unknown

“A stubborn horse walks behind you, an impatient horse walks in front of you,

“A true horseman does not look at the horse with his eyes, he looks at his horse with his heart.”

“All horses deserve, at least once in their lives, to be loved by a little girl.”

“All music is folk music. I ain’t never heard a horse sing a song.”  Louis Armstrong

“And indeed, a horse who bears himself proudly is a thing of such beauty and astonishment that he attracts the eyes of all beholders. No one will tire of looking at him as long as he will display himself in his splendor.” – Xenophon

“Ask me to show you poetry in motion and I will show you a horse.”~ Author Unknown

“At its finest, rider and horse are joined not by tack, but by trust. Each is totally reliant upon the other. Each is the selfless guardian of the other’s very well-being.” – Unknown

“Before I loved horses, I had nothing to live for. Now I love horses and can’t stop seeing things to live for.” – Unknown

“Being on a horse is one of my most natural places to be.” – Sinbad

“Bread may feed my body, but my horse feeds my soul.” – Unknown

“Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway.” – John Wayne

“Did you ever see an unhappy horse? Did you ever see a bird that had the blues? One reason why birds and horses are not unhappy is because they are not trying to impress other birds and horses.” —Dale Taylor

“God forbid that I should go to any heaven in which there are no horses.” —R.B. Cunningham-Graham

“Half the failures in life result from pulling in one’s horse when it is leaping.”~ Author Unknown

“He doth nothing but talk of his horse.” —William Shakespeare

“He knows when you’re happy. He knows when you’re comfortable. He knows when you’re confident. And he always knows when you have carrots.” – Unknown

“His hooves pound the beat, your heart sings the song.”~ Jerry Shulman

“His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage. He is indeed, a horse.”

“Horse sense is the thing a horse has which keeps it from betting on people.” – W.C. Fields

“Horse thou art truly a creature, for thou fliest without wings and conquorest without a sword.” – Unknown

“Horses are like shoes – you need one in every color.” – Unknown

“Horses change lives. They give our young people confidence and self-esteem. They provide peace and tranquility to troubled souls. They give us hope!” – Toni Robinson

“Horses lend us the wings we lack.” – Unknown

“I am still under the impression that there is nothing alive quite so beautiful as a horse.” – John Galsworthy

“I call horses ‘divine mirrors’ – they reflect back the emotions you put in. If you put in love and respect and kindness and curiosity, the horse will return that.” – Allan Hamilton

“I can make a General in five minutes, but a good horse is hard to replace.” – Abraham Lincoln

“I frequently dream of being on these horses’ backs and running across a field. And the horse and I are one.” – William Shatner

“I have seen things so beautiful they have brought tears to my eyes. Yet none of them can match the gracefulness and beauty of a horse running free.”

“I heard a neigh. Oh, such a brisk and melodious neigh it was. My very heart leapt with the sound.” – Nathaniel Hawthorne

“I love the horse from hoof to head, From head to hoof and tail to mane. I love the horse as I have said, From head to hoof and back again.” —James Whitcomb Riley

“If a horse has four legs, and I’m riding it, I think I can win.” – Charles Caleb Colton

“If you are fearful, a horse will back off. IF you are calm and confident, it will come forward. For those who are often flattered or feared, the horse can be a welcome mirror of the best in human nature.” – Claire Balding

“If you have seen nothing but the beauty of their markings and limbs,their true beauty is hidden from you.”

“If you want a stable friendship, get a horse.” – Unknown

“If your horse says “no”, you either asked the wrong question, or asked the question wrong.” – Pat Parelli

“In riding a horse, we borrow freedom.” – Helen Thomson

“In the end, we don’t know what horses can do. We only know that when, over the past thousands of years, we have asked something more of them, at least some of them have readily supplied it.” – Jane Smiley

“In the steady gaze of the horse shines a silent eloquence that speaks of love and loyalty, strength and courage. It is the window that reveals to us how willing is his spirit, how generous his heart.” – Unknown

“In their eyes shine stars of wisdom and courage to guide men to the heavens.”~ Jodie Mitchell

“It is best not to swap horses while crossing the river.” —Abraham Lincoln

“It is the horse’s gift to connect us with Heaven and our own footsteps.” – Ronni Sweet

“It’s hard to lead a cavalry charge if you think you look funny on a horse.” – Adlai Stevenson I

“I’ve spent most of my life riding horses. The rest I’ve just wasted.”

“Let a horse whisper in your eat and breathe on your heart. You will never regret it.” – Unknown

“Life is like a dressage test. If you’re too busy thinking about your last move, the next one won’t be any good either.” – Unknown

“Looking for love is tricky business, like whipping a carousel horse.” – George Cukor

“Many people have sighed for the ‘good old days’ and regretted the ‘passing of the horse’. But today, when only those who like horses own them, it is a far better time for horses.” – C.W. Anderson

“My horses are my friends, not my slaves.” – Reiner Klimke

“No Heaven can Heaven be, if my horse isn’t there to welcome me.” – Unknown

“No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle.” – Winston Churchill

“No matter how big or small you are, your horse is always there for you when you need your spirit lifted.” – Unknown

“No philosophers so thoroughly comprehend us as dogs and horses.” – Herman Melville

“Of all animals kept for the recreation of mankind, the horse is alone capable of exciting a passion that shall be absolutely hopeless.” —Bret Harte

“On the back of a horse you will find Paradise.”

“One can get in a car and see what man has made. One must get on a horse to see what God has made.” – Unknown

“One must think when looking at a horse in motion, that he hears music inside his head.” – Unknown

“One of the best pieces of advice I ever got was from a horse master. He told me to go slow to go fast. I think that applies to everything in life. We live as though there aren’t enough hours in the day but if we do each thing calcly and carefully we will get it done quicker and with much less stress.” – Viggo Mortensen

“One who believes that he has mastered the art of horsemanship has not yet begun to understand the horse.” – Unknown

“Our hoofbeats were many, but our hearts beat as one.”

“People ought to quit worrying so much about whispering to their horses and just start listening to them.” —Greg Darnall

“Riding a horse is not a gentle hobby, to be picked up and laid down like a game of solitaire. It is a grand passion.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Slippery-smooth rhythmic motion, absolute single-minded purpose, motion for the pleasure of motion itself. It was terrible it its beauty, the flight of the horse.”~ Larry Niven, Rainbow Mars

“Somewhere…somewhere in time’s own space, There must be some sweet pastured place Where creeks sing on and tall trees grow, Some Paradise where horses go.

“Stay away from a horse long enough and you’ll start tapping your fingers to the beat of a trot.”~ Author Unknown

“Stay away from a horse long enough and you’ll start tapping your fingers to the beat of a trot.” – Unknown

“Success is like a wild horse. If you do not know how to handle it, it will throw you off and look for another rider who can handle it well.” – Ajith Kumar

“The air of heaven is that which blows between a horse’s ears.”

“The earth would be nothing without the people, but the man would be nothing without the horse.” ~ Author Unknown

“The essential joy of being with horses is that it brings us in contact with the rare elemtns of grace, beauty, spirit, and freedom.” – Sharon Ralls Lemon

“The hardest thing about riding… is the ground.” – Unknown

“The history of mankind is carried on the back of a horse.” – Unknown

“The horse is an archetypal symbol which will always find ways to stir up deep and moving ancestral memories in every human being.” —Paul Mellon

“The horse moved like a dancer, which is not surprising. A horse is a beautiful animal, but it is perhaps most remarkable because it moves as if it always hears music.” —Mark Helprin

“The horse you get off is not the same as the horse you got on. It is your job as a rider to ensure that as often as possible, the change is for the better.” – Unknown

“The horse, with beauty unsurpassed, strength immeasurable and grace unlike any other, still remains humble enough to carry a man upon his back.” – Amber Senti

“The horse. Here is nobility without conceit, friendship without envy, beauty without vanity. A willing servant, yet never a slave.” —Ronald Duncan

“The love for a horse is just as complicated as the love for another human being… if you never love a horse, you will never understand.” – Unknown

“The only sport I’m not interested in is horse racing. That’s because I don’t know the horses personally.” – Nat King Cole

“The sunshine’s golden gleam is thrown, on sorrel, chestnut, bay and roan.” —Oliver Wendell Holmes

“The wagon rests in winter, the sleigh in summer, the horse never.” – Yiddish proverb

“The way to heaven is on horseback.”

“The world is best viewed through the ears of a horse.” – Unknown

“Then they worry, because no matter how brilliantly they perform their jobs, success comes down to the horses, and Thoroughbreds are anarchists at heart.” – Nan Mooney

“There are many wonderful places in the world, but one of my favorite places is on the back of my horse.” – Rolf Kopfle

“There are some things better left unsaid… but you can bet a cowgirl will say them anyway!” – Unknown

“There is no secret so close as that between a rider and his horse.” – R.S. Surtees

“There is something about riding down the street on a prancing horse that makes you feel like something, even when you ain’t a thing.”~ Will Rogers

“There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.” – Sir Winston Churchill

“Through his mane and tail the high wind sings, fanning the hairs who wave like feather’d wings.” —William Shakespeare

“Through the days of love and celebration and joy, and through the dark days of mourning – the faithful horse has been with us always.” – Elizabeth Cotton

“Through the days of love and celebration and joy, and through the dark days of mourning – the faithful horse has been with us always.”~ Elizabeth Cotton

“To many, the words love, hope and dreams are synonymous with horses.” – Unknown

“To many, the words love, hope and dreams are synonymous with horses.”

“To ride on a horse is to fly without wings”.~ Author Unknown

“To see a horse is to see an angel on earth.”~ Author Unknown

“To see the wind’s power, the rain’s cleansing and the sun’s radiant life,

“To understand the soul of a horse is the closest human beings can come to knowing perfection.” – Unknown

“Virtue shall be bound into the hair of thy forelock.  I have given thee the power of flight without wings.”

“We have all forgotten how strange a thing it is that so huge and powerful and intelligent an animal as a horse should allow another, and far more feeble animal, to ride upon its back.” —Peter Gray

“We have almost forgotten how strange a thing it is that so huge and powerful and intelligent an animal as a horse should allow another, and far more feeble animal, to ride upon his back.”~ Peter Gray

“We have almost forgotten how strnage a thing it is that so huge and powerful and intelligent an animal as a horse should allow another, and far more feeble animal, to ride upon its back.” – Peter Gray

“We kept him until he died… and sat with him during the long last minutes when a horse comes closest to seeming human.” – C.J. Mullen

“We who choose to surround ourselves with lives more temporary than our own live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful aps, we still would live no other way. We cherich memory as the only certain immoirtality, never fully understanding the necessary plan. The life of a horse, often half our own, eems endless until one day. That day has come and gone for me, and I am once again within a somewhat smaller circle.” – Irving Townsend

“We will never have to tell our horse that we are sad, happy, confident, angry, or relaxed. He already knows – long before we do.” – Marjike de Jong

“What does riding horses give us? An escape from the world. Exercise in fresh air. Adrenaline rushes. Healing through the bond.” – Unknown

“When a horse greets you with a nicker and regards you with a large and liquid eye,

“When a horse offers their face to you, they’re interested in what you are, what you’re doing. They’re paying attention.” – Brady Jandreau

“When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more muscal than the pipe of Hermes.” – William Shakespeare

“When I hear somebody talk about a horse or cow being stupid, I figure it’s a sure sign that the animal has outfoxed them.” —Tom Dorrance

“When the Almighty put hoofs on the wind and a bridle on the lightning, He called it a horse.” – Unknown

“When you are on a great horse, you have the best seat you will ever have.” – Sir Winston Churchill

“When your horse follows you without being asked, when he rubs his head on yours,

“When you’re young and you fall off a horse, you may break something. When you’re my age and you fall off, you splatter.”~ Roy Rogers

“Whena  horse greets you with a nicker and regards you with a large and liquid eye, the question of where you want to be has been answered.” – Unknown

“Whenever you observe a horse closely, you feel as if a hum being sitting inside were making fun of you.” —Elias Canetti

“Where in this wide world can man find nobility without pride, friendship without envy, or beauty without vanity? Here where grace is laced with muscle and strength by gentleness confined.” – Ronald Duncan

“Wherever man has left his footprints in the long ascent from barbarism to civilization, we find the hoofprints of a horse beside it.” – John Trotwood Moore

“Whoever said a horse was dumb, was dumb.” – Will Rogers

“Will is to grace as the horse is to the rider.” – Saint Augustine

“You and your horse. His strenght nad beauty. Your knowledge and patience and determination and understanding and love. That’s what fuses the two of you onto this marvelous partnership that makes you wonder… ‘ What can heaven offer any better than what I have here on earth?’.” – Monica Dickens

“You can see what man made from the seat of an automobile, but the best way to see what God made is from the back of a horse.”

“You took care of your horse, and your horse took care of you.” – Elton Gallegly

“You took me to adventure and to love. We two have shared great joy and great sorrow. And now I stand at the gate of the paddock watching you run in an ecstacy of freedom, knowing you will return to stand quietly, loyally, beside me.” – Pam Brown

“You try to do the best with what you’ve got and ignore everything else. That’s why horses get blinders in hose racing: You look at the horse next to you, and you lose a step.” – Jimmy Lovine

“Your horse’s behavior always seems to depend on the number of people watching you.” – Unknown

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Producct', keywords: 'Horse', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_horse').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_horse img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

[samsegrist]

Twin Peaks Time Capsule

By Sam Segrist

May 21, 2017

Tonight, in less than half a day, I’ll be seeing something I never thought I’d see: a new episode of Twin Peaks. For fifteen years, there’s been an ache in my heart at the lack of resolution to the season two finale, which—for my money—is television’s greatest unresolved cliffhanger. Perhaps this is why I’ve grown fond of making a semi-annual vacation to this strange and beautiful mountain town which reminds me of my own home, Scottsbluff: a place of weird, desperate, flawed, good people. Repeated viewings never fail to allow me to savor the bittersweet quality of this enigmatic narrative puzzle, a 29-episode loop which compels viewers who fall under its spell to return to the scene of the crime, always just outside of the Martells’ estate, by the lake and the big rock, where millions of people can find, over and over again, the plastic-wrapped bouquet of Laura Palmer’s body.

Over the years, if there’s one thing I’ve discovered, it is that everyone who loves Twin Peaks has a story about when, where, why, and how they fell in love with the show. Mine was back in 2002, when I was working overnights as a telephone switchboard operator for the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. I was a college student, spinning my wheels academically while finding out that working from midnight until 7 AM, while good for my grades, was not so good for my social life.

This job entailed sitting in front of a computer, with one other operator in the elevated cubicle behind me, waiting for an emergency call to come in or (usually) a false fire alarm. Most nights, nothing happened in the quiet call center of Nebraska Hall. I worked with two other nerdy, but nice enough, guys: a middle-aged David with a mustache who looked like Van Dyke Parks, and a guy named Clay, who resembled a much less creepy Jacque Renault.

There was a television in the upper corner of the call center that was always on. Back then on boring nights, we’d flip through channels to find something, ANYTHING, to watch that was remotely good. We found out Bravo broadcast two back-to-back reruns of Twin Peaks between the hours of three and five A.M. (Before this exposure, I had seen Dune, Blue Velvet, and Lost Highway, and, while they disturbed me, they didn’t hook me with the same fascination as Twin Peaks.) I can’t remember what my first episode was, but I do remember the odd magnetism of the show, how it pulled me out of the sterile cubicle environment and into its dream-world.

Going to work often meant leaving house parties-in-progress or Halo marathons with my roommates, but I looked forward to this mid-shift excursion when I hoped no calls or flashing lights would break the dream reality of the show. (“Through the darkness of future’s past/One magician longs to see/One chants out between two worlds/Fire alarm don’t interrupt me…”) The one-two punch of weirdness which I viewed every shift was compounded by the fact that I missed several episodes on my nights off. Over the course of several months, I saw every episode, but never in consecutive order. A few nights ago I was relating this to my friends Chelsea and Dylan (pronounced Dye-lan), and the realization struck me that I saw Episode 29 several times before realizing the finale, with Dale and the toothpaste and the cracked mirror, was the end of the show! I remember being somewhat mystified when I would show up for work on the next night only to be right smack back at the beginning with the pilot episode. My lack of context regarding the show’s history only added to the mystery and the yearning for resolution.

So, every two weeks, the show would start over, and I would tune in. Both David and Clay seemed to enjoy revisiting the show. I distinctly remember Clay exclaiming “Coop! I love that guy!” when Kyle MacLachlan first showed up on screen.

I eventually lost that overnight switchboard job because I realized I was missing out on too much college life while living at the Blue House. (I had called in sick so I could go on a date with a beautiful girl named Sarah. ((I remember us grilling shish kabobs at my drummer’s house.)) Someone at work somehow knew about this, squealed on me, and my boss figured they’d give me the benefit of the doubt, give me the chance to explain myself, but I was a no-call no-show the next night. D’oh! I guess I was so lovestruck I didn’t care about the consequences. No worries, though, it all worked out: my next job at Blockbuster was to be a much more significant place of employment, but that’s a subject for another entry…)

One thing which initially appealed to me about Sarah was her love of similar things dark and quirky, things like David Lynch. It was at one of the infamous Blue House parties where our conversation led us down this path. I figured any girl who was into Twin Peaks was all right in my book. I later found out her mother was a big fan from back in the day and had programmed her VCR to record the episodes. That’s dedication to truly can’t-miss-television back in the day! As the years go by, Sarah reminds me more and more of Norma, which I suppose makes me more and more like Big Ed. C’est la vie for sweethearts of the past…  

It was sometime after that in the middle-aughts that a couple named Nick and Sara Arling invited me to their apartment for a biweekly Twin Peaks viewing. It’s funny, but I don’t remember meeting these two wonderful people at all; all I remember is how fun it was to go to their house in the Near South of Lincoln every other Sunday evening to watch three episodes with a group of people. This was how I also met a great young couple named Justin and Noel (pronounced No-elle). Years later, they would invite me to a Halloween party at their house where I met a stunning brunette named Stacy. I was dressed as a chocolate shake. She was dressed as Audrey Hepburn’s character from Breakfast at and was impressed when I complimented her on her Holly Golightly costume. (Any other schmoe could have just said “Nice Audrey Hepburn outfit.”) It was only later on, I realized how striking of a resemblance she had to Sherilynn Fenn BKA Audrey Horne. Funny how the love of a show can lead to love in real life.

One final thing about this Sunday Night Twin Peaks Club is that it was the first time I saw the entire series in chronological order with the Log Lady intros. The entire series was not yet available on DVD, so seeing the show in its grainy VHS was probably the closest I’d ever get to seeing the show the way it was originally seen.

To augment my love of the story, I hunted down the out-of-print books The Autobiography of FBI Special Agent: Dale Cooper: My Life, My Tapes and The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer. Besides being good reads, they were inspirations for how to write an epistolary story for my master’s thesis and first book.

In the spring of 2005 (or 2006?), I drove to Fairfield, Iowa to attend a weekend conference on Transcendental Meditation at the Maharishi University of Management to hear David Lynch speak. It was like getting to spend a weekend with an eccentric and groovy uncle, but perhaps the best thing that came out of it was I was able to ask him two questions during a Q & A which I then put on YouTube. You can check it at this URL (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R1E5SJaXc30&t=87s) or by searching for “David Lynch Q & A on Season 3 of Twin Peaks “ to see what he has to say about my idea finishing Twin Peaks. Keep in mind, I never thought they’d ever actually make another season though!

One sticky point of contention, I’ve only ever seen Fire Walk With Me once. I was one of many fans who was disappointed that Lynch didn’t use the movie as an opportunity to finish the story. The cinematography is gorgeous, but it veers too far in tone from the delightful mix of the television show. I also find it way too disturbing, obscene, and unnecessary to actually see the rape scenes. Now that the new show is almost upon us, I worry the R-rated freedom Lynch will have will mean these new episodes will also be more darkness than light. Say what you will about censorship, but I think Lynch thrived under the limitations of broadcast television because there was a line he could press up against, but not cross. When there is no line, some creators don’t know when to stop…

Fast-forward to 2007-2008 and I was a first-year teacher in Omaha. I was so excited that the Gold Box, the complete edition of Twin Peaks was coming out on DVD that I spent more money than I should have at the Borders at 72nd & Dodge (R.I.P.) and watched them all with my girlfriend Rachel in my little one-bedroom apartment in the Old Market. That was a really hard year for both of us. I was woefully unprepared to teach children of poverty and she was trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life after graduating from St. Andrews College in Scotland. Though there was much tension and drama, I do believe we helped each other get through that year. One of the many things I love about this show is sharing it with people who’ve never seen it before, to see their reactions.

The last girlfriend I would ever watch it with was Abby in the fall/winter of 2008. Things were not going well with our whirlwind of a romance, and I remember sensing things were darkening and souring between us. As we neared the end of the show, there was a sense of an ending brewing. She didn’t know about the cliffhanger finale, and I remember her wondering aloud how the show could possibly wrap up all its threads in the last episode, but as soon as Episode 29 ended, it was like she felt like it was okay to end the relationship because we had concluded the business of our mutual vacation in Twin Peaks. It wasn’t meant to be, and that’s okay.  

Fast-forward to Christmas 2014. My brother and I have an annual tradition which we picked up from our grandmother Betty where we send each other a list of potential gifts we’d like to get, not knowing which one will actually be chosen. This way we always get something we’re sure to enjoy, but there’s still an element of surprise. That Christmas was one of the best ever because my dear brother Mark got me the Complete Mystery box-set on Blu-Ray. (Hint, if you ever want to feel creepy, just run your finger over the front of the set and you’ll be able to feel the contour of Laura’s eyeballs through the blue eyelids. Who thought of that? Who greenlit that icky detail? I want to know.)

 And then it was 2015 and the internet found out the rumors were true and the show was coming back. I suspected at the time (and still think) the whole “David Lynch is walking away from the revival because they’re not going to give him enough money to do it right” was a publicity stunt to drum up a fervor online, to measure just how many people care about the show coming back. I remember thinking, Oh, the dispute was about money? And now they’ve doubled the number of episodes from 9 to 18? I wouldn’t rule it out in this day and age of innovative and unorthodox market research, but I digress…

Once I heard they were bringing back the show, I thought it’d be fun for my wife Maddie and I to watch the show together, but she can’t get past the quirky cheesiness or kitsch of it all. She just thinks it’s a bad show and rolls her eyes. I hope she gives it another shot in the future, otherwise our trip together to Snolqualmie, WA to see the locations of the show will not be as much fun! Haha!

[When I think of the Giant’s warning that “It is happening again” I just think that’s such a cryptic and terrifying statement. What is “it”? When did it last happen? What happened? What was the result? Wait a second, the verb “happen” is in the present progressive tense! It’s occurring right now! When will it stop?!? J I’ll likely write about this at greater length later on, but I believe there is a Holocaust subtext to Twin Peaks, and something about the dark return of this show somehow anticipates and foreshadows the rise of Trump. That’s all I’m going to write about that today…]

As the big date of the return has drawn nigh, I’ve enjoyed listening to the vinyl reissues of the soundtracks and reading the 33 & 3rd book about Angelo Badalamenti’s score. It’s also been a treat finding out that cool students of mine like Caitlyn are interested in the series. I’m an (old) millennial fan, which means I only got into the show AFTER Twin Peaks mania. It’s a strange feeling to become so fanatical about something that was once SOOO popular which then became a weird cult show. I wonder what it will be like to revisit Twin Peaks: The Return in 25 years.

My most recent reviewing of the show happened this spring. I had the joy of watching it all with my sister Katie. She got hooked on the show like crazy. I’m glad we were able to watch the show together because in about a month she is moving to Alabama, and we may not ever live in the same town again, but we’ll have had this brother-sister bonding experience.  

Anyhow, I’m cutting this real close, but the show will be live in about forty minutes! So I thought I’d wrap this up briefly outlining what some of my fears and desires and questions about the new show will be. I wonder how the show will maintain the atemporal vibe. Will there be cell phones and texting in Twin Peaks? How will they advance the story and resolve leftover mysteries from Season 2? I know Showtime probably wants the show in widescreen, but I feel like the 1.33 aspect ratio is practically a character or a force of nature in the show, forcing the director, cinematographer, and actors to compose every shot a certain way. I suppose what would be the best of both worlds would be if they stream/broadcast it in widescreen and then make a Blu-Ray collection where there is a full-frame option. I doubt that will occur, but you never know.

I know, I know it will never and can never be the same, but I am cautiously optimistic that Frost and Lynch will find a way to capture the magic again and transport millions of viewers to that sublime place we call Twin Peaks. In this age of Netflix-pioneered season dumps, I find it exciting that the Summer of 2017 will be ineffably tied to a weekly installment of this show, so that we’ll get the opportunity to watch each episode as they come out and then run to the Great Online Watercooler to converse with all the other fans. If the show is bad, I know I will not be able to unsee it, and I’ve been down this pop-cultural road before where long-awaited and unexpected returns/revivals/installments become bitter disappointments, which are sometimes so bad that they retroactively taint the way one thinks of the earlier work. (I’m looking at you, George Lucas.) It is for that reason I wanted to make this memory time capsule, documenting just how much this show has meant to me throughout these last fifteen years.

There’s less than half an hour until the new show starts. I was almost done when I got a call from my best buddy Zach. He recently watched all 29 episodes and didn’t know that the new season was about to start tonight. We’ve made plans to talk as soon as the premiere is over. I told him he’d be a part of this document. I like to think he and I have the kind of love for each other that FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper and Sheriff Harry Truman have for each other, and hey, we do!

So, now it’s getting dark and the trees are not stirring on this windless May night in Lincoln, Nebraska. All these words are now written down for posterity. They may not be wrapped in plastic, but they’re still beautiful. I know I will write about this show more in the future, but for now, I’ll just have to trust that I’ll see you in the trees.

[weldonturner]

New Post has been published on Weldon Turner

New Post has been published on http://www.weldonturner.com/sojourner-truth-part-2-woman-of-influence/

Sojourner Truth Part 2: Woman of Influence

Artist’s portrait of Sojourner Truth’s meeting with Abraham Lincoln in 1864 (Photo by MPI/Getty Images)

This is the second of a two-part article on Sojourner Truth, the 19th century preacher, orator, anti-slavery, and women’s rights activist.  Born a slave in Ulster County, New York, she was never afforded the opportunity to learn to read or write. Yet, through fearless determination born of a deep Christian faith, she became one of the brightest lights in the civil-rights and women’s rights movements of the 19th century, lecturing and speaking to thousands, and meeting with some of the most influential figures of the period, including three presidents.

Laying the Groundwork

From New York City Sojourner Truth headed east: Brooklyn, Long Island, then Connecticut–Bridgeport, New Haven, Bristol and Hartford.  She attended camp meetings, organized meetings, listened to sermons, preached and shared her testimony.  She also worked when she could.  In Hartford, in 1843, she joined a group of Millerites.

In 1838 William Miller (1782-1849) published a collection of lectures entitled Evidence from Scripture and History of the Second Coming of Christ, About the Year 1843.  The volume predicted the final days of the earth, and the return of Christ, based on the Book of Daniel [1].

Miller was not an ordained minister but did have a license to preach [2]. He and a colleague, Boston pastor Joshua Hines, [3] recruited evangelical preachers and published books and pamphlets to support their teachings. The phenomenon became known as the Millerite Movement, and attracted some 50,000 adherents.

Northampton 1843-45

Like Miller, Truth believed the end of the world was near, but was not convinced of his timeline [4] [Note: Much of the reference material in this article is based on the book, Sojourner Truth, A Life and A Symbol, by Neil Patrick Painter, professor of history at Princeton University.] Nonetheless she became popular at Millerite meetings throughout the Northeast with her singing, prayer, and the ‘aptness of her remarks’ [5].

Opportunities to address audiences large and small accelerated the transformation from Isabella Van Wagenen to Sojourner Truth.

As the winter of 1843 approached, uneasy with some aspects of the Millerite Movement, and a preference for communal living, the itinerant Truth accepted the recommendation of Millerite friends to move to a commune in Northampton, Massachusetts [6].

The community was officially named The Northampton Association for Education and Industry [7]. One of the founders of the Association was the brother-in-law of  William Lloyd Garrison, the famed publisher and anti-slavery activist.  According to Painter:

[The Association] did not hold property in common or attempt to supplant existing family arrangements…it was organized “by religious men, upon anti-slavery ground…The need to heal class conflicts of the larger society, the worst of which was slavery, was one of the Northampton Association’s basic tenets.’ [8] Leading members of the abolitionist movement, including Garrison and Frederick Douglass, were featured lecturers [9].

Initially Truth was not impressed with the Association, but she ‘gradually became pleased’ with it. At Northampton she found a community consisting of some of the ‘choicest spirits of the age,’ where all was characterized by an ‘equality of feeling,’ ‘a liberty of thought and speech,’ and a ‘largeness of the soul.’ [10]

Engraving From 1868 Featuring The American Writer And Former Slave, Frederick Douglass (1818-1895).

Frederick Douglass, too, was impressed with the egalitarian nature of the community. He recalls: ‘the “place and the people struck me as the most democratic I had ever met. It was a place to extinguish all aristocratic pretentions. There was no high no low, no masters, no servants, no white, no black. I, however, felt myself in very high society.”’ [11]

In time Truth no longer considered herself a Millerite, but without the help of fellow believers, she was faced with the daunting task of earning an income.

In 1845 Frederick Douglass published the first of his autobiographies, the Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave, to enormous success, selling 4,500 copies in the first six months [12].  A year later, Sojourner Truth embarked on her own Narrative.  She dictated her story to Olive Gilbert, a fellow member of the commune at Northampton [13]. In 1850 The Narrative of Sojourner Truth was published [14].

Truth carried copies of the book and sold them where she preached and lectured.  The Narrative of Sojourner Truth further established Truth as a public figure, a popular preacher and lecturer.

The Ascendancy of Truth

In 1850 Truth addressed a ‘large’ women’s rights meeting in Worcester, Mass, the first such meeting of a ‘national scope’. It was a follow up to the landmark 1848 conference at Seneca Falls, New York. Many abolitionists were also pro-women’s rights, as was Garrison, Douglass, and Amy Post, one of the organizers of 1848 conference. Sojourner Truth was also part of this circle of activists and would become a lifelong friend of Post [15].

Aren’t I A Woman

On May 28, 1851 Frances Dana Gage and fellow activists in the women’s rights movement convened a conference at an Akron, Ohio, church. Among the speakers were male members of the abolitionist movement, and ministers from several faith denominations.  Also in attendance was the itinerant speaker, Sojourner Truth [16].

On the second day of the conference, after several speeches by men apparently dismissive of women’s search for equality, Sojourner Truth asked the event organizer, Gage, to speak.

May I say a few words…I want to say a few words about this matter. I am a woman’s rights. I have as much muscle as any man, and I can do as much work as any man. I have plowed and reaped and husked and chopped and mowed, and can any man do more than that? I have heard much about the sexes being equal; I can carry as much as any man, and can eat as much too, if I can get it. I am as strong as any man that is now. As for intellect, all I can say is, if a woman has a pint and a man a quart, why cant she have her little pint full? You need not be afraid to give us our rights for fear we will take too much,–for we cant take more than our pint’ll hold. The poor man seems to be all in confusion. And I don’t know what to do. Why children, if you have woman’s rights give it to her and you will feel better. You will have your own rights, and they wont be so much trouble. I cant read, but I can hear. I have heard the bible and have learned that Eve caused man to sin. Well if women upset the world, do give her a chance to set it right side up again. The lady has spoken about Jesus, how he never spurned woman from him, and she was right. When Lazarus died, Mary and Martha came to him with faith and love and besought him to raise their brother. And Jesus wept—and Lazarus came forth. And how came Jesus into the world? Through God who created him and woman who bore him. Man, where is your part? But the women are coming up blessed be God and a few of the men are coming up with them. But man is in a tight place, the poor slave is on him, and he is surely between a hawk and a buzzard.

The above account—later known as the ‘Aren’t I A Woman Speech’–would become inexorably linked to Truth. It appeared on the back page of the June 21, 1851 issue of the Anti-Slavery Bugle–a weekly publication of the Ohio Anti-Slavery Society, later the Western Anti-Slavery Society [17].  According to the Library of Congress, the Society reflected the ‘radical’ views of William Lloyd Garrison. It’s motto, ‘No union with slave owners’ and its mission statement, “to preach deliverance to the captive, and the opening of the prison door to them that are bound; to hasten in the day when ‘liberty shall be proclaimed throughout all the land, unto all inhabitants thereof’” succinctly stated its point of view.  In addition to its anti-slavery perspective it supported women’s rights and the ‘peace movement’, coming out against the government’s involvement in the Mexican-American War. It printed editorials, letters, calls for meetings, and speeches that supported its goals.

The 1850s

The 1850s were a tumultuous and culturally disruptive decade for the United States–a decade in which the issue of slavery was front and center.  In 1850 Congress passed a revised version of the 1793 Fugitive Slave Act, which allowed slaveholders to recapture escaped slaves in free states. The 1850 version, intended to mollify fears of southern states on the issue of slavery and preserve the Union, went even further. It compelled citizens to assist in the capture of runaway slaves, denied slaves the right to a jury trial, and paid federal ‘commissioners’ more for the return of captured slaves than for freeing them [18] 2017.  The new law put escaped slaves in jeopardy everywhere in the United States.

In the North reaction to the new law was intense.  It mobilized many abolitionists and helped usher in a brand-new actor on the political stage:  the Republican Party.

In 1856 the newly formed Republican Party held its first National convention, and fielded its first nominee for president, John C. Frémont, ‘on a platform that called on Congress to abolish slavery in the territories.’ [19].

Truth continued preaching. According to SojournerTruth.org, she addressed a meeting held by the Friends of Human Progress Association in Michigan, on October 4-5 of 1856. She spoke of her life in bondage–what it meant for her as a person, as a mother, as a ‘wife’, as a piece of property [20]:

I believe in Jesus, and I was forty years a slave but I did not know how dear to me was my posterity. I was so beclouded and crushed. But how good and wise is God, for if the slaves knowed what their true condition was, it would be more than the mind could bear. While the race is sold of all their rights — what is there on God’s footstool to bring them up? Has not God given to all his creatures the same rights? How could I travel and live and speak? When I had not got something to bear me up, when I’ve been robbed of all my affections for husband and children.

Some years ago there appeared to me a form (here the speaker gave a very graphic description of the vision she had). Then I learned that I was a human being. We had been taught that we was a species of monkey, baboon or ‘rang-o-tang, and we believed it — we’d never seen any of these animals. But I believe in the next world. When we gets up yonder, we shall have all of them rights ‘stored to us again — all that love what I’ve lost — all going to be ‘stored to me again. Oh! How good God is.

My mother said when we were sold, we must ask God to make our masters good, and I asked who He was. She told me, He sit up in the sky. When I was sold, I had a severe, hard master, and I was tied up in the barn and whipped. Oh! Till the blood run down the floor and I asked God, why don’t you come and relieve me — if I was you and you’se tied up so, I’d do it for you.

Truth’s speech addressed what was probably the pre-eminent issue of time.  Events within the next four years seemed to propel the country into an unavoidable confrontation over the issue of bondage.

The Gathering Storm

In March 1857, the United States Supreme Court ruled on one of the most infamous cases in its history, Scott v. Sandford. Dred Scott was a slave who travelled with his owner to a free state (Illinois) and lived in a free territory (Wisconsin) [21]. Scott eventually returned to Missouri where he saved to purchase freedom for his family and himself. In 1846, six years after returning to St. Louis, Scott had a new owner who refused to grant freedom.  Scott took his case to the Missouri State Court arguing that since he had lived in a free state, he was entitled to emancipation, based on the Missouri Compromise of 1820. After a series of lower court rulings, Scott’s case went to the U.S. Supreme Court. The Court refused to hear the case, claiming it lacked jurisdiction. Chief Justice Roger Taney writing the majority opinion argued that since Scott was a negro and a slave (and thereby property) he was not a U.S. citizen and had no right to file a suit in federal court [22]. He added that the idea of him becoming emancipated by simply traveling to a free state was ‘absurd’ and ‘disgraceful’ [23]. The decision outraged Northern abolitionists and boosted support for the fledgling Republican Party and its anti-slavery platform.

  In 1858, two years after dragging seven pro-slavery settlers from their homes and hacking them to death, [24] [25] a White radical anti-slavery activist, and self-proclaimed soldier of God, visited the free Black community in Chatham, Ontario, Canada. There the Connecticut native hatched a plan that had been percolating for some time: an armed anti-slavery insurrection in the South. The man’s name was John Brown.

In October 16th, 1859, Brown and twenty-one followers, including his five sons, raided the federal arsenal at Harper’s Ferry, Virginia–the ‘biggest collection of weapons in the South.’ [26] The success of the raid depended on slaves joining Brown and his men, but not a single slave joined the group.  The following morning, U.S. Marines, under the command of Col. Robert E. Lee, surrounded the arsenal. Brown’s sons were killed and he was wounded and captured. During his trial he presented his cause as a ‘just war’, and himself as a martyr for God’s work. On December 2nd, 1859, Brown was executed by hanging. His exploits and the resulting trial were widely reported in the newspapers. He became an anti-slavery icon, admired by some abolitionists in the North, and reinforced anti-slavery fears among pro-slavery Whites in the South, who saw his exploits as confirmation of the North’s intention of overthrowing slavery through violent means.

Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War

In 1858, former congressman Abraham Lincoln, running for a seat in the UL.S. Senate, gained national attention after a series of debates with Democratic candidate, Stephen A. Douglas.  In 1854 Douglas had sponsored the Kansas-Nebraska Act, which supported the principle of ‘popular sovereignty’.   The Act was based on the premise that territories that had not yet become states should be able to chose whether to become a slave-holding state or free. Lincoln argued the territories should be free. Helost the race but gained national prominence for himself and the young Republican Patty [27].

On May 18, 1860 in Chicago, at its second national convention, the Republican Party nominated Abraham Lincoln as its candidate for president [28]. Almost six months later, on November 6th, Lincoln was elected the 16th president of the United Sates. The country was deeply divided. Lincoln won all Free states and none of the slave states [29]. He secured the victory over Senator Douglas, two other major candidates, and a divided Democratic Party. He won almost 40% of the popular vote and 180 out of 303 electoral college votes [30].

1860 U.S. Electoral Map (Courtesy Wikimedia Commons)

Several southern states, hostile to the Republican Party’s anti-slavery platform, had threatened to secede if a Republican were elected president. Between Lincoln’s election in November and his inauguration on March 4th the following year, seven states seceded [31]. The Confederate States of America was established, with Jefferson Davis its president [32].

Just over a month after Lincoln’s inauguration, at 4:30 a.m. on April 12th, Confederate forces opened fire on Union soldiers at Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbour, South Carolina. The Civil War had begun.

Emancipation Proclamation

Lincoln insisted that the war was not about freeing the slaves, but preserving the Union. By 1862 the South was using enslaved peoples to aid in the war effort. The North refused to allow African Americans to enlist. On September 22, 1862, Lincoln issued a preliminary emancipation proclamation, warning the Confederacy that if they did not surrender by January 1st of the following year, their slaves would be freed. But freedom would come to slaves in Confederate-held areas only—not to all people in bondage. This was clearly a military strategy, for it deprived the South of one of its most valuable assets: free labour. Lincoln kept his word and issued the final  Emancipation Proclamation on January 1, 1863 [33]. Slaves in states that had seceded from the Union were now free. Slaves in border states loyal to the Union remained in bondage, as were those in Confederate areas that had already come under Northern control [34]. Nonetheless Black men were now allowed to fight for the Union cause and were admitted into the Army and Navy.

Widespread Influence

In 1852 Harriet Beecher Stowe published Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Life Among the Lowly.  The story, examining the brutality of slavery from what some consider a Christian perspective, sold more than 300,000 copies in the United States and 200,000 copies in England in its first year [35], on the way to becoming the best-selling novel of the 19th century [36]. It drew comments from as far and wide as Charles Dickens and Leo Tolstoy.

An endorsement by Harriet Beecher Stowe would have been an immense gift to any first-time author. In 1853, Truth met Mrs. Stowe at her home in Andover, Massachusetts and received an endorsement for the Narrative.

Ten years later, in April 1863, Mrs. Stowe published ‘Sojourner Truth, the Libyan Sybil’ in the Atlantic Monthly. In the lengthy article Stowe recollects her meeting with Truth some ten years previously. She depicts Truth as both a towering imposing figure—reminiscent of a famous statuette–and a stereotypical southern ‘mammy.’ She is also depicted as lovable, simple, uncultured, shrewd, with common-sense that escapes many far more educated than she. Mrs. Stowe writes:

When I went into the room, a tall, spare form arose to meet me. She was evidently a full-blooded African, and though now aged and worn with many hardships, still gave the impression of a physical development which in early youth must have been as fine a specimen of the torrid zone as Cumberworth’s celebrated statuette of the Negro Woman at the Fountain. Indeed, she so strongly reminded me of that figure, that, when I recall the events of her life, as she narrated them to me, I imagine her as a living, breathing impersonation of that work of art.

I do not recollect ever to have been conversant with any one who had more of that silent and subtle power which we call personal presence than this woman. In the modern Spiritualistic phraseology, she would be described as having a strong sphere. Her tall form, as she rose up before me, is still vivid to my mind. She was dressed in some stout, grayish stuff, neat and clean, though dusty from travel. On her head, she wore a bright Madras handkerchief, arranged as a turban, after the manner of her race. She seemed perfectly self-possessed and at her ease, — in fact, there was almost an unconscious superiority, not unmixed with a solemn twinkle of humor, in the odd, composed manner in which she looked down on me. Her whole air had at times a gloomy sort of drollery which impressed one strangely.

“So this is you,” she said.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Well, honey, de Lord bless ye! I jes’ thought I’d like to come an’ have a look at ye. You’s heerd o’ me, I reckon?” she added.

“Yes, I think I have. You go about lecturing, do you not?”

“Yes, honey, that’s what I do. The Lord has made me a sign unto this nation, an’ I go round a’testifyin’, an’ showin’ on ’em their sins agin my people.”

Mrs. Stowe presents Truth’s Christian testimony—of her encounter with Jesus through an electrifying, spiritual experience; her experiences a slave; of retrieving her son illegally sold into slavery. Mrs. Stowe adds an anecdote, originally shared by respected Boston anti-slavery and labour reform activist Wendell Phillips, that became inextricably linked with Sojourner Truth.

Speaking of the power of Rachel to move and bear down a whole audience by a few simple words, he [Phillips] said he never knew but one other human being that had that power, and that other was Sojourner Truth. He related a scene of which he was witness. It was at a crowded public meeting in Faneuil Hall, where Frederick Douglas was one of the chief speakers. Douglas had been describing the wrongs of the black race, and as he proceeded, he grew more and more excited, and finally ended by saying that they had no hope of justice from the whites, no possible hope except in their own right arms. It must come to blood; they must fight for themselves, and redeem themselves, or it would never be done.

Sojourner was sitting, tall and dark, on the very front seat, facing the platform; and in the hush of deep feeling, after Douglas sat down, she spoke out in her deep, peculiar voice, heard all over the house, —

“Frederick, is God dead?”

The effect was perfectly electrical, and thrilled through the whole house, changing as by a flash the whole feeling of the audience. Not another word she said or needed to say; it was enough.

The Atlantic Monthly article, written by the most celebrated writer of the day, put Sojourner Truth into the national consciousness., and further cemented her reputation among White, upper-class anti-slavery activists in the North.

Less than a month after the Libyan Sibyl article appeared, women’s rights activist and writer Frances Dana Gage published her account of Sojourner Truth’s speech at the women’s rights meeting in Akron, Ohio, twelve years earlier.  The article was published in The New York Independent and documented what would become Truth’s best-known speech–‘Aren’t I A Woman’. Though the speech was published twelve years earlier in the Anti-Slavery Bugle merely a month after it was delivered, it was Gage’s article that attracted the widespread audience that solidified Truth’s status as a woman’s rights activist.  Gage’s gift as a writer, with dramatic flair and stereotypical dialect (which was no doubt readily accepted by her readers), attracted widespread attention.

Two articles, published in respected, widely circulated journals within two months of each other, firmly established Truth as one of the most significant figures in the anti-slavery and women’s rights movements of nineteenth century America—a reputation that has not only survived but continues to grow to this day.

Truth’s Visit with Lincoln

Truth was a supporter of President Lincoln, and vowed to see the first ‘Abolitionist President’ (in person) [37]. With funds raised by a group of friends, she left Battle Creek, Michigan, in mid-1864, her grandson in tow, and travelled to Washington D.C.  On the way she gave speeches in support of Lincoln’s re-election campaign. In Boston she met Harriet Tubman, who was well know for helping slaves escape years earlier through the Underground Railroad.  Painter suggests that, at the time of their 1864 meeting, Tubman and Truth differed on their perceptions of Lincoln. Truth was earnest in her support, while Tubman was more skeptical. Having been exposed to Black Union soldiers in Boston, she was aware of the unequal treatment they received compared to White soldiers [38].

Through a connection with Mary Todd Lincoln’s assistant, Truth was granted a meeting with the president at 8 a.m., Saturday, October 29th, 1864 [39].

There are varying reports on what transpired during the visit. In the 1875 and 1884 editions of her biography, Truth was effusive about their meeting. In a letter dated November 17, 1864, dictated to a friend, Truth recalls the meeting [40].

The president was seated at his desk.  Mrs. C. [Lucy Colman, a White friend who had assisted in securing Truth’s meeting with Lincoln] [41], said to him, “This is Sojourner Truth, who has come all the way from Michigan to see you.” He then arose, gave me his hand, made a bow, and said, “I am please to meet you.”

I said to him, Mr. President, when you first took your seat I feared you would be torn to pieces, for I likened you unto Daniel, who was thrown into the lion’s den, and if the lions did not tear you into pieces, I knew that it would be God that had saved you; and I said if he spared me I would see you before the four years expired, and he has done so, and now I am here to see you for myself.

The letter references the emancipation proclamation and Lincoln’s predecessors, particularly George Washington.  Lincoln claimed that if the opportunity had availed itself, they all would have done what he did. He added that if the South had not rebelled he could not have emancipated the slaves. He then showed her the Bible given to him by the colored people of Baltimore.  Truth continues:

I must say, and I am proud to say, that I never was treated by any one with more kindness and cordiality than were shown to me by that great and good man, Abraham Lincoln, by the grace of God president of the United States for four years more. He took my little book, and with the same hand that signed the death-warrant of slavery, he wrote as follows:

“For Aunty Sojourner Truth,

Oct. 29, 1864.

A Lincoln”

Painter suggest the meeting may have had a very different tone. Years after Lincoln’s assassination, Truth’s companion that day wrote her own narrative of the encounter. In it she describes Lincoln’s demeanour– ‘relaxed and funny’ with his previous White male guests, but ‘tense’ and ‘sour’ with Truth. She adds: ‘Being loved as the Great Emancipator irritated Lincoln…He believed in the white race, not in the colored, and did not want them put on an equality’ [42].

Truth made subsequent visits to the White House and met with Presidents Andrew Johnson and Ulysses S. Grant [43].

Truth During and After the Civil War

At the outbreak of the War, Truth quickly supported the Union cause. At a pro-Union rally at the Steuben County courthouse in Indiana, she was arrested on an obscure law that prohibited Black people from entering the state. The law was rarely enforced. Thousands of Blacks lived in the state and Sojourner had spoken there previously without incident.  For ten days the authorities repeatedly detained and released her, before ultimately letting her go [44].

Truth initially volunteered for the Union effort from her home in Battle Creek, Michigan. In 1863, she collected food for the Black soldiers of the First Michigan Regiment stationed at Camp Ward in Detroit. In addition to delivering food and clothing to the soldiers, she reportedly spoke at formal ceremonies, albeit to segregated audiences [45].

In March 1865 Congress established the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen and Abandoned Lands, which became known as the Freedmen’s Bureau. The Bureau was created to assist in providing social and educational welfare for former slaves in their efforts to adapt to a life after bondage [46]. Abolitionists like Truth were commissioned to help in achieving the Bureau’s mandate. She also worked with the National Freedmen’s Relief Association, a private organization established to assist former slaves adjust to newfound freedom [47]. One of Truth’s responsibilities was to work at the Freedmen’s Hospital in Washington, D.C. (Established in 1862 to care for freed, disabled and aged African Americans [48], it was the predecessor to the teaching hospital at Howard University’s Medical School.)

Her work at the hospital required travel around Washington D.C. to procure items for her patients. The city’s streetcars were a means for doing so. The streetcar company set aside one such car—The Jim Crow car—for ‘colored’ people. By now an old woman, and well known for her speaking and activism–Truth complained to the president of the streetcar company. The ‘Jim Crow’ car was subsequently removed, giving Black equal access—theoretically, at least—with Whites [49].

The removal of the ‘Jim Crow’ car did nothing to alleviate negative attitudes towards Blacks however.   Truth relates how on numerous occasions she waved at one streetcar after another to stop and let her board, to no avail. On one occasion, while returning to the Freedmen’s hospital with a White companion, a conductor attempted to physically throw her off the car.

The conductor grabbed me by the shoulder and jerking me by the shoulder, ordered me to get out. I told him I would not. Mrs. Haviland [her White traveling companion] took hold of my other arm and said, ‘Don’t put her out.’  The conductor asked if I belonged to her. ‘No,’ replied Mrs. Havliand, ‘she belongs to humanity.’  ‘Then take her and go,’ said he, and giving me another push slammed me against the door. I told him I would let him know whether he could shove me about like a dog, and said to Mrs. Haviland, Take the number of this car.

On arriving at the hospital a surgeon discovered that ‘a bone was misplaced.’  Truth, with the help of the Freedmen’s Bureau, had the conductor charged.  He eventually lost his job. The case gained much attention and soon thereafter the streetcars looked like ‘salt and pepper’ [50].

Civil War’s Aftermath: ‘Contraband’

The Fugitive Slave Laws required escaped slaves to be returned to their owners.   On August 6, 1861, four months after the start of the Civil War, fugitive slaves fleeing their former owners were declared property of the Union army, or “contraband of war” if their labor had been used to aid the Confederacy in any way. And if found to be contraband, they were declared free [51].

After the War the name remained: former slaves continued to be called ‘contraband.’ Many moved from Virginia to Washington D.C. where they lived in squalid settlement camps, rife with filth, poverty, and crime. The ‘Book of Life’ section in the 1875 and 1884 editions of Truth’s Narrative presents a report by the Superintendent of police that reads, in part:

[C]rime, filth and poverty seem to vie with each other in a career of degradation and death. Whole families, consisting of fathers, mothers, children, uncles and aunts, according to their own statements, are crowded into apologies for shanties, which are without light or ventilation. During the storms of rain or snow their roofs afford but light protection, while from beneath a few rough boards used for floors the miasmatic effluvia from the most disgustingly filthy and stagnant water, mingled with the exhalations from the uncleansed bodies of numerous inmates, render the atmosphere within these hovels stifling and sickening to the extreme [52].

Having lost several of her own children, Truth considered the poor, the destitute–the ‘contrabands’–her own offspring, and embarked on a crusade to improve their welfare. She found homes and employment for them in the Northern states, and obtained labourers to rebuild communities destroyed by the War [53].

In Washington D.C.  crime became an ongoing concern for the young, who were trapped in a vicious cycle of crime, incarceration and release. Truth could not help but compare the magnificent edifices built within the city with the hopelessness of the city’s poor, and decided to correct what she saw as a social injustice. She gathered signatures to petition the United States Congress and the Senate to set apart a portion of land in the ‘West’, and to erect buildings there for the ‘aged’ and ‘infirmed [54]. In February 1870 Truth took her message to the people, launching a speaking tour in Providence, R.I., [55], followed by lectures throughout the North–Fall River and Boston, Massachusetts; Springfield and Orange, New Jersey; Philadelphia, Rochester, Syracuse, New York City, Detroit and her adopted home town of Battle Creek, Michigan.  She received newspaper coverage at these locales, in many instances receiving good notices., some reprinted in her Narrative.

Audience reception to her lecture tour was mixed: some audiences were large, others, sparse. The petition did not make it to Congress. In 1875, Truth’s grandson and long-time traveling companion, Samuel Banks, died at aged twenty-five [56]. By the late 1870s Truth’s health had declined, and by the Fall of 1883 she lay mortally ill with ulcers on her legs [57]. She died on November 26, 1883, at about aged eighty-six.

Women’s Rights Legacy

Sojourner Truth embodies three key strands of the social fabric of her day: faith, civil rights and women’s rights. She, however, is greater than the combination of the three. Her indefatigable Christian faith fuelled an iron will to fulfill what she believed was God’s calling on her life—a call to travel the land and spread God’s message–a call to believe in her beloved Jesus Christ, a call to end the evil of slavery and to uplift the people of her race, and a call to recognize and accept the rights and dignity of women.

Her faith and dedication to her race is clear from her preaching and her life experiences, but it is her reputation as a women’s rights activist that has come to the forefront in recent years. Yet this is the role that is probably most complex, most nuanced.

Frances Dana Gage’s report on Truth’s ‘Aren’t I A Woman’ speech solidified her women’s rights credentials, as does her appearance in Susan B. Anthony’s and Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s History of Woman Suffrage.  Moreover Truth is quoted as saying: ‘If colored men got their rights, and not colored women theirs, you see colored men will be masters over the women, and it will be just as bad as it was before.’ [58] But there is more to the story.

Prior to the Civil War and emancipation, many in the abolitionist movement were also pro-women’s rights:  Truth, Douglass, evangelist Henry Ward Beecher, Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony supported both anti-slavery and women’s rights issues. After the Civil War and the passage of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments, which permanently put an end to slavery and gave Black men the right to vote, a schism in the women’s rights movement became clear.  One side, led by Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, balked at the idea of Black men–former slaves, ignorant and illiterate–having the right to vote, while educated, cultured, White women did not. Stanton is quoted as saying that If truly universal suffrage was not feasible, she ‘preferred to enfranchise educated people first, for “this incoming tide of ignorance, poverty and vice” must not be empowered. Without woman suffrage only the highest type of manhood should vote and hold office’ [59].

The other side, supporting universal suffrage for men and women, refused to allow the suffrage of Black men held hostage by the lack of suffrage of (White) women.  Supporters of this group included Douglass, Frances Dana Gage, and lesser known women’s rights activists Lucy Stone and Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, a Black poet, and noted public speaker and civil rights activist in her own right [60].

Ultimately Truth was forced to chose between the two factions, and selected the latter. Stanton’s and Anthony’s embrace of Southern Democrats, who sought to halt passage of the Fifteenth Amendment granting Black men the right to vote, was a choice that she could not make.

Concluding Remarks

Because Sojourner Truth was unable to read or write—limited to communicate her experiences without filter–we are at the mercy of those who knew her or researched her story to paint a picture of this incredible woman. How much of what we know is authentic Sojourner Truth and how much reflects the perspective and potential bias of the messenger? The Christian messenger will stress her undeniable faith; the civil rights activist will highlight her anti-slavery work and speeches; the feminist will emphasize her contribution to women’s rights. As society and culture change, her image will evolve, as successive generations claim those aspects of her life and contribution that reinforces their values. Is this positive or negative? Undoubtedly a bit of both. The differing interpretations of her life will insure a contemporary image as times change—a fresh perspective of her contribution. Alternatively there will inevitably be some question on how accurate that perspective really is, and who Sojourner Truth really was.

© Weldon Turner 2017 All Rights Reserved

Next Month

New fiction: Stuffed Green Peppers

Images

Sojourner Truth and Abraham Lincoln

Abraham Lincoln (1809 – 1865) reading the Bible with former slave and abolitionist Sojourner Truth (1797-1883), originally Isabella Van Wagener, in a print presented to the President by the black community of Baltimore to commemorate the Emancipation Proclamation. (Photo by MPI/Getty Images) Credit:                  MPI / Stringer Collection:           Archive Photos Date created:    January 1, 1862 Licence type:     Standard

Frederick Douglas

Frederick Douglass (1818-1895), abolitionist, author and statesman. Image courtesy iStock (by Getty Images) License type: Standard

1860 U.S. Electoral Map

File courtesy of Wikimedia Commons This map was obtained from an edition of the National Atlas of the United States. Like almost all works of the U.S. federal government, works from the National Atlas are in the public domain in the United States. Online access: NationalAtlas.gov | 1970 print edition: Library of Congress, Perry-Castañeda Library URL: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:1860_Electoral_Map.jpg#filelinks

References

[1] Christianitytoday.com, http://www.christianitytoday.com/history/people/denominationalfounders/william-miller.html [2] Christianitytoday.com, http://www.christianitytoday.com/history/people/denominationalfounders/william-miller.html [3] Christianitytoday.com, http://www.christianitytoday.com/history/people/denominationalfounders/william-miller.html [4] Neil Irvin Painter, Sojourner Truth, A Life, a Symbol, W.W. Norton, 1996, p83 [5] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p87 [6] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p87 [7] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p89 [8] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p93 [9] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p88 [10] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p89 [11] Painter, Sojourner Truth, pp93-94 [12] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p103 [13] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p101 [14] Sojourner Truth, Olive Gilbert and Frances Titus, The Narrative of Sojourner Truth, (1884 edition), Penguin Books, 1998 p x [15] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p114 [16] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p165 [17] Library of Congress, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83035487/ accessed, September 6, 2017 [18] History.com, http://www.history.com/topics/black-history/fugitive-slave-acts  accessed, September 17, 2017 [19] Britannica.com, https://www.britannica.com/topic/Republican-Party  accessed, September 17, 2017 [20] SojournerTruth.org, http://www.sojournertruth.org/Library/Speeches  accessed September 10, 2017 [21] History.com,  http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/dred-scott-decision, accessed September 30, 2017 [22] pbs.org,  https://www.pbs.org/wnet/supremecourt/antebellum/landmark_dred.html, accessed September 30, 2017 [23] loc.gov, https://www.loc.gov/resource/llst.022/?sp=9, accessed September 22, 2017 [24] Biography.com, https://www.biography.com/people/john-brown-9228496 , accessed September 17, 2017 [25] USHisotry.org, http://www.ushistory.org/us/31d.asp, both accessed September 17, 2017 [26] History.com, http://www.history.com/topics/john-brown, accessed September 22, 2017 [27] History,org, http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/abraham-lincoln-elected-president [28] Politico.com, http://www.politico.com/story/2011/05/republicans-nominate-abraham-lincoln-may-18-1860-055138 [29] Historynet.com, http://www.historynet.com/abraham-lincoln-election [30] ucsb.edu, http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/showelection.php?year=1860, accessed, September 23, 2017 [31] Civilwar.org, https://www.civilwar.org/learn/articles/civil-war-facts, accessed September 223, 2017 [32] History.com, http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/abraham-lincoln-elected-president, accessed September 23, 2017 [33] pbs.org, http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4p2967.html, accessed, September 27, 2017 [34] Archives.gov, https://www.archives.gov/exhibits/featured-documents/emancipation-proclamation [35] pbs.org, https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4p2958.html, [36] HistoryNet.com, http://www.historynet.com/uncle-toms-cabin, accessed, September 30, 2017 [37] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p200 [38] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p203 [39] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p204 [40] Truth, Narrative (1884), p120-121 [41] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p204 [42] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p207 [43] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p207 [44] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p180 [45] Painter, Sojourner Truth, 182 [46] Truth, Narrative (1884), p124, note 103 [47] Painter, Sojourner Truth, 214 [48] U.S. National Library of Medicine, https://www.nlm.nih.gov/hmd/medtour/howard.html, accessed September 27, 2017 [49] Truth, Narrative (1884), p124 [50] Truth, Narrative (1884), p126 [51] pbs.org, http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4p2967.html, accessed September27, 2017 [52] Truth, Narrative (1884), p127 [53] Truth, Narrative (1884), p129 [54] Truth, Narrative (1884), p134 [55] Truth, Narrative (1884), p134 [56] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p242 [57] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p254 [58] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p220 [5] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p228 [60] Painter, Sojourner Truth, p223

Bibliography

Sojourner Truth, Olive Gilbert and Frances Titus, The Narrative of Sojourner Truth, (1884 edition), Penguin Books, 1998 (This narrative was original published in 1884, a year after Truth’s death. Frances Titus, her long-time friend, added the ‘Book of Life’ and a ‘Memorial Chapter’ for this edition. The 1998 edition was edited with an introduction by Neil Irvin Painter.

Neil Irvin Painter, Sojourner Truth, A Life, a Symbol, W.W. Norton, 1996.

Links

Christianitytoday.com, http://www.christianitytoday.com/history/people/denominationalfounders/william-miller.html,   accessed, October 4, 2017

Christianitytoday.com, http://www.christianitytoday.com/history/people/denominationalfounders/william-miller.html, accessed, October 4, 2017

Christianitytoday.com, http://www.christianitytoday.com/history/people/denominationalfounders/william-miller.html, accessed, October 4, 2017

Library of Congress, loc.gov,  http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83035487/ accessed, September 6, 2017

History.com, http://www.history.com/topics/black-history/fugitive-slave-acts  accessed, September 17, 2017

Britannica.com, https://www.britannica.com/topic/Republican-Party  accessed, September 17, 2017

SojournerTruth.org, http://www.sojournertruth.org/Library/Speeches  accessed September 10, 2017

History.com,  http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/dred-scott-decision, accessed September 30, 2017

Pbs.org, https://www.pbs.org/wnet/supremecourt/antebellum/landmark_dred.html, accessed September 30, 2017

Library of Congress, loc.gov, https://www.loc.gov/resource/llst.022/?sp=9, accessed September 22, 2017

Biography.com, https://www.biography.com/people/john-brown-9228496 , accessed September 17, 2017

USHisotry.org, http://www.ushistory.org/us/31d.asp, both accessed September 17, 2017

History.com, http://www.history.com/topics/john-brown, accessed September 22, 2017

History,org, http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/abraham-lincoln-elected-president, accessed, October 4, 2017

Politico.com, http://www.politico.com/story/2011/05/republicans-nominate-abraham-lincoln-may-18-1860-055138, accessed, October 4, 2017

Historynet.com, http://www.historynet.com/abraham-lincoln-election, accessed, October 4, 2017

University of California at Santa Barbara, ucsb.edu, http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/showelection.php?year=1860, accessed, September 23, 2017

Civilwar.org, https://www.civilwar.org/learn/articles/civil-war-facts, accessed September 223, 2017

History.com, http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/abraham-lincoln-elected-president, accessed September 23, 2017

pbs.org, http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4p2967.html, accessed, September 27, 2017

Archives.gov, https://www.archives.gov/exhibits/featured-documents/emancipation-proclamation, accessed, September 30, 2017

pbs.org, https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4p2958.html, accessed, September 30, 2017

HistoryNet.com, http://www.historynet.com/uncle-toms-cabin, accessed, September 30, 2017

U.S. National Library of Medicine, https://www.nlm.nih.gov/hmd/medtour/howard.html, accessed September 27, 2017

pbs.org, http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4p2967.html, accessed September27, 2017