#Carl Proctor

[jerytoon21]

PotD_1277a_CarlProctor : RyanScott Nelson

#Carl Proctor #Ryan Scott Nelson #muscles #armpit #legs #jmbEdition

[davidhencke]

Operation Midland: Met Police to face fresh investigation over more witnesses " perverting the course of justice"

Convicted paedophile Carl Beech – who made the allegations that sparked the inquiry The flawed £2 million Operation Midland investigation by the Met Police into alleged sexual abuse by VIPs and politicians which contained sensational false allegations of child murders from a man who turned out to be sex offender himself could be re-opened after four years. Carl Beech was sentenced to 18 years…

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#carl beech #harvey proctor #Met Police #perverting justice

[uncouth-the-fifth]

pythia, a supernatural rewrite. phantom traveler, p.0

read it on Ao3. masterlist.

words: 6677

notes: heyyyy! sorry for the late update. the first chapter isn't finished yet, but i just started a new job, so i've been slow to catch up and didn't want to leave you guys hanging any longer. here's a little half-chapter to sate you :p feat. our first Bobby appearance and some good angst.

EAU CLAIRE, WISCONSIN - Nov. 24th, evening.

Sam had never seen so many hunters in one place before.

He’d always known that Thanksgiving was a busy time of year for the Proctors, but he’d never had the chance to see it in person. Dad always had “better things to do” when Beth’s party-of-the-year came ‘round, even if Dean begged him and Sam silently urged it by being caught up on all of his work. The celebration was Dad’s bane and Dean’s heaven: dozens of other hunters, all bringing free food and old stories to one table. ____ had called him every year to mope about it—or, he called her, from whatever random payphone was closest. It was the biggest event of the year in her house, and one of the most important ways the Proctors gave back to their hunter counterparts.

____’s family had been an epicenter of the hunting community for literal generations, so by noon the house was already full. Sam had been up since seven, running errands for Beth and helping Dean and ____ cook the prepped food. For a brief moment he had fooled himself into thinking things would be relaxing. Then, a few individual hunters had started trickling in (“Mavin, Scott, and Carol,” ____ had explained), followed by families (“Those are the Baynes’, n’ uh comin’ up behind em are the Hirths.”), and partner sets (“Carl n’ Melanie, vamp hunters—oh! And that’s Bennie and Manuel, from Texas.”), all people Beth knew. All hunters.

All of them squeezed into the second floor of the Proctor House, trickling out into the stairwells, hanging out the windows to smoke, and plastering themselves to every possible surface in the house. Sam had to squeeze through to get into the kitchen. There were big, burly hunters playing cards around the coffee table. More varieties of them sat on the arms and backs of chairs to make bets on the game. Fresh-eyed hunting girls flocked to Beth’s lace-clothed reading table, doing tarot, trading crystals, and consulting her library. Gruffer hunters lined the hallways of the house, conspiring in coarse voices with one another. Sam even thought he’d seen some kids reading comics on the stairwell.

Each crevice was filled with warm, boisterous chatter and laughter. Every single person in the house had a paper plate loaded with Thanksgiving dinner. The air cloyed with incense and buttery food, like ____’s home always did. They could’ve all been one massive, normal family, had it not been for the matching bandaids on every arm and the drying water on every face. Beth had a family friend playing bouncer, checking in every guest with a cut from a silver knife and a faceful of holy water. Just to be safe. Sam watched a little girl go giggling up the stairwell, a bright My Little Pony bandaid on her right shoulder. The old silver-checking scars on his arm stung.

The only safe haven was the kitchen. Beth was so busy she couldn’t even lift her head to greet him, but Sam didn’t mind. The hair at his neck had been uncomfortably prickling all afternoon. Though he wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, it’d been trained into him to raise his hackles around other hunters.

“Hey,” he greeted her, “I found the masking tape.”

“Atta boy,” Beth said, and gestured wildly with her free hand to the rows of filled tupperware on the counter. Sam recognized them. Since he, Dean, and Dad could never make it, she always sent out leftovers for them. “Can you label those?” She asked. “I made a list of people we’re sendin’ em’ out to—it’s over on the fridge, baby. And hey, you seen my kid?”

Sam plucked the hastily written list off the fridge, stole a sharpie from the junk drawer, and ignored a pair of men in the kitchen archway peering at him. “Sure I can,” he told her, itching his neck, “and I think I saw ____ run-off with Bobby a while ago.”

“Trying to get the peach cobbler recipe out of him, I’ll bet.” Beth shoveled some mashed potatoes into the last of the tupperware. Her face settled into smug delight. “Smart girl. Maybe this’ll be the year.”

Sam put on a smile for her. “What does the future say?”

Beth made a face, similar to the airy, keen one ____ made when she was deep in thought, and pat Sam on the back. She smirked. “Outlook: not so good.”

Sam started labelling the leftovers with tape and sharpie, first with Rufus’s green bean casserole and Caleb’s stuffing. Pastor Jim was somewhere in the house too. Bobby had come early this morning to “help Beth with a case,” but really he just wanted a home-cooked meal. Beyond them, Sam couldn’t name a single hunter outside his family that he knew personally. He felt so exposed with his back to the party that he angled himself toward the kitchen doorway instead, skin crawling. An entire house hosting his family’s crazy secret. The thought alone was insane.

If it was just him, Dad, and Dean, Sam could contain the obsessive training, bloody bandages, and constant moving in their own little universe. But everywhere he looked there was a man like his father and a boy like his brother—even girls like ____. The pen he’d built for that side of his life had been battered open, and all the cattle had spilled out into the surrounding field. No wonder ____ always holed up in her room during these parties. Sam made a mental note to check around the attic for her soon.

Beth leaned out into the hall, parting the nearby hunters in her wake. “Dean!” She hollered, “Get your ass in here! Pie’s out in ten!”

An excited murmur bubbled out of the house of hunters, and a few more people chipped in to call for Dean, just as eager for pie. A few minutes later the lines of hunters filling out either side of the hallway parted again, this time for his glowing brother. Dean looked revived—at least in comparison to the last few days. Their lead in Michigan hadn’t panned out. ____ hadn’t once had a vision of Dad. If Beth had, she hadn’t shared it. Sam could tell that his brother was starting to spin his wheels, so even if he wasn’t enjoying himself, he’d been hoping some conversation and free food would boost Dean’s spirits a little. Either it was, or Dean was an incredible faker. He gleamed at the prospect of dessert, having spent the last few hours trading stories and making a name for himself. There was even a set of girl’s hands on his shoulders—but that was just ____, hiding behind him.

Sam turned back to his task and pretended he wasn’t looking at her, feeling curiously relieved. Regardless, she crawled out from behind Dean and raced toward Sam anyway, hiding in his shadow instead. “Lucky,” she told him, voice smooth and melodic, “Dean dragged me around on a fuckin’ world tour while you were safe in here.”

“That bad?” Sam guessed. He kept his voice low, so ____ tilted even closer to hear what he has to say.

____ just grimaced. Sam could fill in the rest. When people had first started filing in, the curious women and the rowdy greenhorns and the rough veterans, they’d all tried to coax a fortune out of her. It looked to Sam like they were all hunting for some truth. He’d heard rumors that people thought ____ didn’t have the Gift, period, which Sam could’ve laughed at. Her Gift bled from her every pore. It’d always been palpable to Sam, but in four years, it’d become the grandest presence in every room ____ walked into. How could a house full of hunters not feel it? Sam’s intuition was sharp, sure, but that was the mark of any hunter worth their salt. And he was already rusty.

She touched his arm, and Sam could feel her Gift tingle all the way down through his hand. Like always.

“It’s hell out there,” ____ said.

“Oh, hush,” Bobby scolded. He emerged from the hustle and bustle of the house, a six-pack in one hand and a plate of mashed potatoes in the other. “Havin’ a couple’a people lookin’ atcha for a little while won’t kill you.”

____ punched her fists to her sides. “Four people I don’t know have pinched my cheeks and called me cute. Four!”

“Must be agony,” Sam teased. His voice sounded hoarse, unused, and plain, so he cleared his throat just in time for ____ to tickle his side.

Sam jumped, but clamped down on the embarrassing yelp before it could escape. When he whips back to glare at her, she’s smiling devilishly, and the butterflies in Sam’s chest roast in a molten river of shame. He twists back to the tupperware.

After pie is served, the volume in the house goes down a few notches. Beth starts saying goodbye to people, but many more will stay well into the night, leaving a living room full of sleepy old men and drink-happy card players to fill the house’s strange natural silence. Dean plates some pumpkin pie for himself and forces some dinner onto Beth, who’s been on her feet the whole day. Bobby takes some too, letting ____ steal swipes of whip cream, and Sam digs into the food that’d been waiting for him for two hours now. They’re elbow to elbow in the kitchen’s retro dinner booth. ____’s thigh is pressed comfortably against Sam’s, and every once in a while their shoulders will brush when she collapses into giggles in her chair. He doesn’t think she’s aware she’s doing it, but her Gift greets him at every touch, glowing with easy happiness.

(She seems… she feels so good. Purifying.)

“—no, no, we all know who’s the favorite,” ____ was grumbling, eyes playful. “You’re mom’s, Sam is Bobby’s. Simple math.”

“Hol’ on, hol’ on,” Dean flopped back in his seat, wiping pie crust crumbs from his face. “Let’s be reasonable here. I’m everybody’s favorite, first off.”

Bobby and Beth made the same doubtful chuff, sending ____ into hysterics and Dean into outrage. He sputtered around his grin, aiming his fork at her as he talked, and ____ pushed up onto her feet to slam her hands into the table, rattling the silverware. Both of them are beaming and laughing and threatening to throttle each other. Bobby sniped at them to shut up and stifled a smile behind his bottle. Beth lounged back, exhausted after the events of the day, and took in the two bantering with maternal amusement. The rangehood over the stove threw a soft amber glow across the kitchen, but Sam felt like the light was passing right through him.

The year before last, Sam had gone to his first-ever Thanksgiving dinner. He didn’t count the years where Dad had fallen asleep on the couch, leaving him and Dean to eat KFC by lamplight, or all the years Beth sent leftovers. Sam was a determined pre-law sophomore. The rhythm of everyday life had become less of a song and dance for him, like it’d always been. Sam’s mind knew: run five miles to school, keep your head down, write a book report, keep your head down, run five miles to an empty home. It was hard, but he’d been starting to feel like life wasn’t a list of commands anymore. It was Jess. He met Jessica’s parents, he gave her dad a firm handshake, he complimented her mom’s cooking. That was what life could’ve been for him; more than expecting to die.

Last year, Sam had gone to his second-ever Thanksgiving dinner. Beth couldn’t send leftovers through the mail, so she sent recipes instead, and he called ____ again to ask her to visit. Again, she’d whispered, I can’t. Sam was a spirited pre-law junior. He’d shaken Robert Moore’s hand and complimented Amanda Moore’s cooking. He wasn’t exactly what they wanted for Jessica, Sam knew that. His past was shady, he knew too much of what he shouldn’t, and the microwave fizzed out when he touched it because he was so nervous. Still, Sam was spirited. He pulled Robert Moore aside and asked if he could propose to his daughter. When Sam temporarily forgot why he was hunting again, he reminded himself how much Jessica’s father must’ve regretted saying yes.

You were right there, Robert Moore had told him at Jessica’s funeral. You and your brother and your friend were all right there. They dragged you out, but my daughter doesn’t get to live?

Beth reached out and covered his hand. Sam bumbled off his train of thought, and landed right in the middle of one of Beth’s knowing, empathetic looks. It rattled him into hiding his face in his plate.

“All of you are my favorite,” Beth shook her head. “You’re all damn stupid, but you’re all my favorite.”

Dean pointed at her with his beer-hand. “See, now that’s just cheating. Pick one! Bobby could.”

Bobby exclaimed, “When!” At this, Dean gestured to himself, and Bobby rolled his eyes, “What? One of you two chuckleheads? Oh, please. Both of you should at least be smart enough to know ____’s my favorite.”

____, sly as always, made a point to cross her arms. There ya go, she gestured. Dean leveled his best cowboy glare at her, but it came across probably poutier than he would’ve preferred.

“Sam?” They spoke at the same time. Dean filled in, “Uh, you wanna weigh in on this, pal?”

Anything Sam could’ve said dropped out from underneath him. Beth’s eyes were calm and only observational, waiting to see what he’d do. On his other side, Bobby’s brow was furrowed at him. Dean and ____ were waiting for him to pick up his end of the banter, but Sam’s exhaustion weighed on him too fast for him to recover.

He stabbed some of his turkey. “Um… I think Bobby spoke his mind.”

“Exactly,” ____ enunciated, grinning. After a beat, the gusto in her posture drained away. She questioned Bobby, maybe putting on the doe eyes a little too hard. “...Unless you’re just messing with me to get to Dean?”

Bobby side-eyed Dean like that was absolutely his intention, but the soft hope in ____’s eyes, purposeful or not, gutted the grouchiest of old men. It killed Sam every time, so Bobby stood no chance. He squinted down at the remains of his pie and avoided her open gaze. “...You remember that time I took the three a’ you dear huntin’?”

“Which time?” Sam and Dean asked together.

Bobby waved his bottle at Dean, still squinting in thought. “It was one a’ the last times I took you, cause you were in high school by then… ____ was about twelve, n’ Sam was eleven…”

Sam did remember. He wasn’t as enthused about the killing animals thing as much as Dean and Bobby were, but there was a big detour between Dad's training and Bobby’s training where Sam thrived. It felt more like a choice. The drills, the sparring, the Latin studies. Bobby made it feel like it was something Sam had chosen. He still ruled with an iron fist, that was for sure, and Sam never forgot that things were life-or-death, but they had fun. Bobby made them lunch and they’d catch movies in town or frequent the local bookstore afterwards. They took breaks, and Sam tired himself out playing tag with ____ among the cars in Bobby’s scrapyard. It struck him that those were some of the last memories he had of playing as a kid.

It made sense to Sam why Bobby was joking that she was the favorite. ____ had always been his little agent, answering phone calls, fetching spell ingredients, and organizing books for him. Dean was better suited out in the scrapyard and Sam was better at copying Latin texts, so ____’s encyclopedic background came in handy. Sam was reasonably sure that ____ was the only person who knew Bobby’s deeper secrets as a result, like the codes to some of his lockups and where his supply caches were. Bobby and Beth were both centers of the hunter world in their own ways, so it was only efficient that they collaborated. Both of her parents were close with Bobby. He and her dad, Ray, had known each other since the very dawn of time. Sam had never pointed it out to ____, but he was sure that ever since her dad had passed, Bobby had made it his responsibility to look after her as best he could.

Beth’s face tilted with sympathy. “Was that the time she cried? I remember you telling me about that.”

“Hell yeah it was,” Bobby scoffed. He cycled through the film of his memory, playing it back for himself before he spoke. “So, I take these three deer hunting in the woods behind the house. All of em’ are in hunting gear too big for em—” Beth cooed at the thought, “—but Dean’s excited. He’s completely convinced he’s gonna shoot a buck, which gets Sam all cocky about it too.”

“This kid?” Beth clarified. She pointed at Sam, unconvinced. “This kid, who’d burst into tears steppin’ on the dog’s tail?”

Bobby nodded the affirmative. “Dean’s a shit influence.”

“You know it,” Dean winked at him.

“And this one—” Bobby jabbed a finger at ____, who groaned into her hands, “is whinin’ and complainin’ the entire walk out, talking about how cruel it is to hurt some poor, defensless animal, how it’s a waste of time—”

Dean’s grin glittered with meanness. “More like a waste of venison, if you ask me.”

____ removed one of the hands from her face to smack Dean’s knuckles on the table, and he was about to start a petty hand-smacking fight, if Beth hadn’t chased his back into his lap first.

Bobby continued, rolling his eyes. “Of course, these two devils are on her ass about it.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek. He definitely remembered teasing her for it, probably only because Dean had been teasing her first. Since Dean wasn’t close enough to torment, ____ had to get her revenge from him instead, and gave his thigh a mean pinch under the table. Sam wouldn’t have hesitated to pinch her back just as fiercely, in the way that always made her shriek and laugh in outrage. But for whatever reason, his hands stayed in his lap, and Sam again suppressed the urge to look at her. She tried again; Sam swatted her hand away, and wilted a little at the playful smile waiting for him behind her fingers.

Bobby rolled again into the story, used to the constant interruption by now. “It was somethin’ she had to learn, she knew that, so I wasn’t about to give her shit for caring. Now, we’re out there for most of the day. The mother of all deer road trips must’ve been on, because we see ten, twenty of em’—and every single time, not one of the boys can hit em. ____ refused to.”

“I-I felt bad,” ____ shook her head, a sour taste in her mouth. “We’re monster hunters, evil hunters. Deers are just… deer. They’re beautiful. It didn’t feel right.”

“You gotta get used to th’ hard part of hunting somehow,” Bobby reminded. ____ exhaled until her cheeks puffed, like this was something she’d heard many times. Sam was certain he’d heard it just as much.

“Anyway. She kept refusin’ to shoot, every time they came around. I was getting short with her, the boys were egging’ her on, and finally she gets so pissed she just shoots. Kills a big ole’ buck,” Bobby held up a single finger, “with one shot.”

Beth whistled, surprise flourishing across her brow. “You’re kidding! That itty bitty kid? She barely came up to my ribs!”

“Yeah, that kid,” Dean grinned. He shuffled out of the booth to get another drink, but paused on the way to thunk his hands onto ____’s stiff shoulders with bouncy amusement. “Crying her brains out, mind you. She was shakin’ so hard she could barely lift her rifle. Weren’t you trying to get us to help you bury it, or somethin’?”

“Yeah,” ____ admitted. Her face was warm with embarrassment, but Dean’s teasing hands rubbed into her shoulder a bit and some of the tension there mellowed out.

Sam got a phantom feeling in his hands watching the exchange, like her Gift was tingling through them at the contact.

“Like I said before,” Dean raised his hands in defeat, “that’s a waste of deer jerky.”

“Which is why I was gettin’ pissed with her,” Bobby said. “But after I yelled at her, and Dean yelled at her… this mean, tough-ass little girl… drags this hundred-and-fifty pound buck all the way back to the house and buries the damn thing herself. Antlers n’ all. That’s why she’s my favorite. Girl’s thorough as all hell.”

Beth sat up a little straighter in her chair. “Really.”

“Yeah, really!” Dean snatched up a morsel of cold turkey from Sam’s plate. He cocked his hip against Bobby’s end of the booth, chewing. “Made us have a funeral n’ everything. We all had to go around and say something nice about the deer, n’ apologise to the deer and all of deer friggin’ kind. Stupidest day of my life.”

Beth’s laugh rang through the whole kitchen. She glowed with a peculiar, bright pride that seemed to melt ____ further into her chair, but deep down Sam could see that she wasn’t ashamed of the choice she’d made. ____’s eyes flickered up to his, then danced coyly down to Bobby’s plate. She swiped the last of the whipped cream off the debris there and boasted, “Sam read a prayer and everything. I am thorough as hell.”

“I expect nothing less. You’ve always been a real good kid,” she told ____, and the recognition was so earnest in her voice that even Sam felt flattered.

____ deflected the spotlight onto Bobby instead, nudging him with a clever elbow. “S’ real gooey of you to bring that up, you know.”

“Liquor makes me sentimental,” he deadpanned, and ____ burst into giggles. Sam’s ears tingled. “All I’m saying is,” Bobby cleared the fondness creeping past his beard, “S’ one thing to not give a shit - s’ another, to regret something and still follow through.”

He might have gone on to talk about being the tender age of twelve, and all adjacent bull, but Sam’s thoughts drifted too far away for him to hear them. Somewhere along the way he caught himself looking at ____. She’d worn a bandana today, and it suited the shape of her face… Laid back and relaxed, ____ looked just like her dad.

Sam didn’t drag his eyes away fast enough; ____ caught him looking. Like always, they hung there, Sam paralyzed in place and ____ holding her breath, just looking at each other. It had to have been only a second, but Sam took in too much of her appearance for it to be anything less than an hour. Her eyes were calm, open, and searching, in the way that usually made Sam feel split apart. Yet, understood. Acknowledged. The seam of his ribcage had opened, and she was sitting there with the scrub brush and the soap. She probably wasn’t even reading him, but the Proctor face was naturally piercing. Sam craved it. If those looks went on too long, he began to wish that she’d reach into his mind, into his heart, until she hit the center of it. Until she’d really seen him.

That was the problem here. All around them, Beth was laughing, Bobby was arguing, Dean was joking, and the party was spinning through every inch of the house. Yet he was here and she was there, and there were so damn good at looking at each other.

It was wrong. It was so terribly, evilly wrong, and it was all Sam’s fault.

He learned his lesson and didn’t glance her way again. In his peripherals, ____ deflated, but a while later Sam felt her hand appreciatively squeeze his shoulder. He fell safely into the background of the conversation, and every time he felt her eyes again, he reminded himself of Jessica.

_

CLARION, PENNSYLVANIA - Dec. 2nd, morning.

The Impala was loud and reassuring under your hands. It was hard to seep back into your own thoughts at the wheel; Baby wasn’t hard to drive if you knew what you were doing, but she was a bit longer than most cars were, making it a tougher task to wrestle her where you wanted. You’d needed the distraction all week. The boys could use some breakfast. It sounded like a good excuse, so you dove at the chance to drive.

The three of you had left your mom’s house without a single lead on John. Dean had tried to wiggle some out of the hunters at Thanksgiving, but all he’d done was put more attention on John’s absence than any of you needed. You got the feeling that more people looking for him would just send John further into the cracks, and after two months of searching, the boys were losing hope and you were losing focus.

Last night, you’d blinked awake to Sam having a nightmare. Dean hadn’t been back yet. It’d been your turn to share a double with his brother, so the two of you had fallen asleep watching court dramas, potential cases open on Sam’s laptop between you.

He always rolled onto his back and writhed, limbs thrashing out at the worst parts, no matter how curled up he’d been before he’d fallen asleep. It woke you up so fast that you’d ripped the laptop's chord out of the wall on accident, and like usual you scrambled to collect yourself. Sam had clipped you in the face before he’d come out of it. Pretty bad, too. You’d started to think that his dreams were finally letting up, after months and months of stress, but… this didn't just happen all in one day. Or a month. Or even in years.

You’d called his name in a sharp whisper. Sam. Sammy. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’d said, the words unfortunately routine. After you’d felt brave enough to enter his bubble, Sam collapsed sideways and woke up laboriously. Sweat had plastered his hair to his forehead and his Stanford shirt to his skin. A foam of apologies was already pouring out of his mouth. You’d forgiven him without a thought, caring more about getting him clear of the nightmare. Like always, you rubbed his back, helped him even out his breathing, and cooed mindlessly to him until Sam was himself again.

The first thing he did was rip himself away from you. Then, he dragged himself out of bed and stood there, shuddering in the darkness, and dug his nails into the collar of his shirt. You’d started throwing out ideas to cheer him up—food, water, a walk, something—but by then Dean was awake too, and Sam cut you both off by slamming the bathroom door in your faces.

The Impala slid flawlessly into a spot in your motel’s lot. You went through the motions of turning off the car and hooking your fingers around the bag of breakfast you’d acquired, but couldn’t bring yourself to open the door. The raw inside of your cheek throbbed where Sam had clipped you during his nightmare. You tested the pain with your tongue, still tasting blood. It’d probably bruised, or at the very least split open against your tooth. Damn.

You checked your cheek in the rearview mirror. A subtle red blotch had bloomed on your skin, just vibrant enough to warrant concealer. Feeling foolish, you rooted around for your makeup bag and peppered enough on to make it through Sam’s security checks. He didn’t need any more reasons to feel awful about himself. It’s not like he could control his nightmares, as much as he clearly wanted to.

You could hear the boys talking through the door after you managed to drag yourself out of the Impala. Sam had this drag to his voice that immediately set you on edge, and the timber of Dean's jut out the second Sam stopped speaking, prepared with an unwavering answer. You didn't want to interrupt, but you couldn't sit there and just listen in on them.

They were facing each other at their respective bedsides when you came in. “So, what? All this, it… never keeps you up at night?” Sam was asking.

Dean paused, bracing an arm back so he could twist to look at the intruder. He was facing away from you otherwise, making a perfect window for your brief eye contact with Sam to jumpstart your heart. You hustled your breakfast and keys onto the table with a bit too much adrenaline as a result. It was hard, training your irritation not to spike at yourself, or at him, because neither of you was really at fault. It wasn't Sam's fault you were nuts and it wasn't your fault that you'd ended up with these feelings. More than ever you wished your feelings would just go away; it'd moved from cute to funny to unfortunate very quickly over the course of your life, and now it was just plain wrong. You shook yourself—get it together, you freak.

Dean turned back to his brother and scratched his hair. It startled up in every direction except one, where his head had been laying. He shrugged. “Uh, no, not really.”

You felt Sam's gaze linger on you, gauging if it was safe for you to witness this conversation. Apparently, he decided so. “Really?” He questioned Dean. “You're never afraid?”

Dean shook his head. You weren't about to poke holes in his facade right in front of the person he was putting it up for, but it was stupid-obvious to you that he was bullshitting. His fear was there so often that there was a groove for it in the nape of his neck, where the hair there stood on end, and in his hand where his weapon sat. Yours was in the deepest pit of your stomach, waiting. If you knew Sam at all, his fear was packed down tight behind his teeth. Today, packed a bit less.

Unimpressed, Sam ducked behind Dean, wiggled a hand under his pillow, and produced one of his brother's bigger hunting knives. It was more than the height of two of your hands, and just as wide.

Dean snatched it back up, scoffing and puffing out his shoulders. The knife’s shape slid neatly into his palm. “That's not fear,” he waved the tip in Sam's direction, “that is precaution.”

“And impractical,” you threw in. Trading Dean a fresh cup of coffee for his knife hand, you turned his fist over so you could see the pads of his fingers. “Look at this! You've got all these little cuts because you keep that cleaver under your pillow. Just keep it in the bedframe, like normal people do.”

“Right. Normal people,” Sam muttered.

You gave his shoulder a playful pat as you passed him, and tried to be normal when handing him the tea you'd picked out for him. He didn't react much to either. Sam took his drink with quiet surprise, forgetting what it was like for those around him to know him and his likes, and sipped it without word. You were mindful of your place around him today. The bruise in your cheek ached when you spoke, reminding you at every word what happened when you took a role that wasn't meant for you.

“Thank you,” Sam hummed around his breakfast wrap, and Dean lounged back with a donut and sighed, “Yeah, _____, thanks for breakfast. Baby's good?”

“I took her through a car wash,” you reported. Before Dean could grill you about the how and where, you clarified, “—the right way, I'm not stupid. I took care of her, don't worry.”

Over your shoulder, Dean made a happy, approving noise around his donut. You gave yourself a mental high five. Earning privileges with the Impala had taken you upwards of eight years, so you were scrupulous with your upkeep, both with the car and Dean's approval. It was special to him, so it was special to you. And, it was one of a few confidences that you'd earned over Sam—you made sure to stick out your tongue at him just to rub it in. Dean rarely trusted his brother with his car.

Sam flashed you a small, wincing smile back that seemed distracted. You reigned in your disappointment before it ran too far. He'd been distant the last week, but you'd neglected to mention it, knowing the circumstances. It was an exercise in not clawing your throat open, since your second nature was to mend any and all wrongs among the three of you. You had to remind yourself that you hadn't hurt Sam's feelings and he didn't resent you. His girlfriend was dead and his father was missing. None of this was about you. If he wasn't up for joking, then it was your job not to push him.

You thunked down beside Dean, tonguing the raw inside of your cheek. “Cases? I told you I got a feeling we'd finally get one today.”

“No obvious ones so far,” Dean bumped shoulders with you. “Any word from your mom?”

“I’d a’ told you,” you shrugged and leaned into him a little bit, your own breakfast in hand. With nothing else to say, you ate in silence and enjoyed each other's company, lulled into idleness by the rattle of the winter wind.

Occasionally, you managed to convince the boys to have slump days. A rougher winter storm would be passing through your end of Pennsylvania anyway, so all the three of you hoped to do was layer up and laze. You shrugged on your favorite sweater, a heavier skirt, and dragged every game you owned out of the car to force some life into the two. Sam was of course a damn serial killer when it came to scrabble. But you'd forgotten it at home, so he murdered you at trivial pursuit instead, then left to read and nap. Typical. You gave him plenty of openings to tease you or gloat about his victory, but Sam managed to shy out of each.

You and Dean had lost most of the pegs for battleship decades ago. Still, you improvised by ripping and rolling up little pieces of motel-pad paper, then using them as hits and misses. After tie-ing with Dean three times, you ended up throwing paper wads at Sam until he got up and played poker with you; Dean cheated, you cheated, and Sam also cheated. As always. This was the familiar rhythm of your childhood.

Before starting another (honest) game, you took five to help Dean out with making dinner, starting by boiling a pot of water. Then everything went black.

Instead of a normal dinner scene, you woke up on the floor, skin burning, your mind abuzz and the pot of water smashed sideways beside you. Dean hadn’t even finished cursing before you emerged from the vision that had made you faint. You’d fallen right into him, which meant you cried into him as well.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, m’ sorry, I-I didn’t mean to—” The tears were waiting for you when you came out of it, clogging your throat and nose fast enough to suffocate you. You choked. The sound seized, grating into an ugly and nasal sob. “Bad. Oh, Dean, s’ real bad this time.”

You tried to haul back the flood of words, to puke up anything but apologies, but the tears wouldn’t let you. Blazing liquid singed down your chin and limbs where the backsplash had hit you. It soaked into your clothes and Dean’s, since the first thing he’d done was steady you. Catching your breath was only made harder by what your Gift had shown you. Molten, purified hatred bloomed uncomfortably in the center of your powers, unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

“I know, I know. You’re all good, sweetheart,” he soothed. Dean peeled you away from him enough to get your boiling sweater off, his voice even and neutral, probably because he knew how embarrassed you’d get. His hands halted on the scalding water seeping through your tank top. A flare of uncertainty crossed his face. “You want me to help you or Sam?”

“Sam,” your breath hitched, and without hesitation, they switched places.

A towel pat across your jaw and belly in a few quick jumps. Sam appeared from behind it, brow crumpled with sympathy. Much after that was blurred by heavy tears. You remembered being confused that you were crying and confused that you were in pain, while anything else was forced undercurrent by your vision, seething and writhing through every conscious piece of your body with intent. The feeling wanted in. It pursued every crack in the walls you’d put between you, seeping. Violating. The burns barely qualified as first degree, but you sobbed into the crook of Sam’s arm like they were third-degree—fifth, sixth, melting you from the inside out.

When you could breathe around the leeching remains of your vision, you circled back: you were in the bathtub. Sam had put you in the bathtub. The water was lukewarm, because you’d fainted with a pot of boiling water in your hand and the burns needed to be cooled. It’d soaked through your sweater, skirt, and into your tank top. That left you in your bra and underwear, sobbing, searing your nails into Sam’s shirt, with your upper half glued to him over the bathtub’s edge.

“____,” he murmured. The familiar sound purred into your ear from the barrel of his chest, solid and grounding, a singer’s starting note. You wormed closer. The edge of the tub dug into your ribs, but Sam understood and squeezed you closer too. “Sh, sh, sh—you’re okay. Just a few more minutes and you can get out. We’ve got to cool those burns. You remember where you are?”

You shook your head. Tears squeezed down your face.

“That’s alright,” Sam said. One of his heavy, balming hands coasted through your hair, and even if you were sobbing, in your underwear, in a bathtub, and dogged by a vision, it was everything you wanted because of him. Your entire body sunk into his embrace. Sam was everywhere, his cheek on your head and his arms circled around you as far as they could manage. His warm breath fanned against your ear. Just his knuckles brushed the skin there, dragging down your face in a daze. It was so warm and uncomplicated that black psychic energy drained out of your pores just being there.

Sam swallowed. He hadn’t mastered his voice like his brother had. “You and me are in our motel room in Pennsylvania. Dean is just outside the bathroom, cleaning up and getting you a fresh set of clothes. You fainted helping with dinner—”

His name slipped out of your mouth in a sob. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t want to make a mess and I don’t want t’ faint anymore n’... god, it was bad. I’m sorry, Sam. I hate the visions, I hate em’, I hate em’ so much…”

“I know,” he said, thickly. Sam’s knees thunked against the tub’s side, then his elbows, the wet tile squeaking under him. A long shuddering breath wrestled through his nose. “I know you do. But, one little spill doesn’t matter. You don’t have anything to be sorry about, okay? Not with me… Does, does anything help? With your visions?”

You reached up and grabbed the back of Sam’s collar.

“...Okay,” he laughed, humorlessly. The vicious chord of tension in his shoulders softened by an inch. “We can stay here for a bit longer, then.”

-

tags: @cookiemumster1 @lacilou @cevans-winchester @leigh70 @seraphimluxe @emily-roberts @emme-loou @dakota-dream

NEXT PART: phantom traveller, p.1

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural #spn #user uncouth #uncouthspn #dean winchester #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you

[adoniserosapollo]

Abel Albonetti by Carl Proctor

All Things Beautiful AdonisErosApollo

[graminhani]

Police Academy: Mission to Moscow (USA, 1994): 🍿

Thaddeus Harris (G. W. Bailey) era o antagonista que queria tomar o lugar do Comandante Lassard a qualquer custo. Sendo assim, ele sofria muito bullying do pessoal. Move it! Move it! Move it!

Carl Proctor (Lance Kinsey) era o companheiro de bullying do Capitão Harris. Meio lento das ideias, quase nunca entendia as enrascadas em que estava se metendo. Adorava também visitar sem querer a boate gay The Blue Oyster.

[hartlepoolartistsimpressions]

Credits and Information

If you would like to contribute please reply to this post. All contributions will be credited below.

Credits

1. Katherine Yarrow

2. Daryl Gillam

3. Andy Simms

4. Tom Cook

5. Winsy

6. Grace’s

7. Billy Bog Weed

8. Winsy

9. Steetley Dan

10. Muse : The 2nd Law: Isolated System

11. Winsy

12. Jez Lowe : Wagga Moon

13. Edward Clarke

14. Grace’s

15. Winsy

16. Michael Holt / John Dawson

17. Ridley & Tony Scott : Boy & Bicycle

18. Yorkshire Film Archive

19. Winsy

20. Tube Alloys

21. “If I tell you I’ll have to kill you” 🤷‍♂️

22. Maxy Neil Bianco : Pig The Dog

23. Seaton Snooks Tea Room : Twitter @seatonsnookstea

24. PJandOddam

25. History of Hartlepool in Images

26. 500 Club

27. History of Hartlepool in Images

28. Winsy

29. Stuart Drummond

30. Simone Jones Higgins

31. Grace’s

32. Unknown

33. Institute of Civil Engineers

34. Pete Cholmondeley

35. History of Hartlepool in Images

36. History of Hartlepool in Images

37. Harry Harland

38. Mike O’Hare

39. The Lake Poets : Shipyards

40. The Northern Echo

41. Jeff Stelling / Hartlepool United TV

42. Northern Daily Mail

43. Winsy

44. Katherine Yarrow

45. History of Hartlepool in Images

46. The Fettlers : The Hartlepool Monkey

47. Peter Vicente

48. Chris Downey

49. Winsy

50. Katherine Yarrow

51. www.Seatonsnook.com

52. Anth Frain

53. Our Newcastle

54. Winsy

55. History of Hartlepool in Images

56. Dave Harrison/HOHII

57. Peter Vicente

58. History of Hartlepool in Images

59. History of Hartlepool in Images

60. Maxy Neil Bianco : Can House

61. Katherine Yarrow

62. History of Hartlepool In Images

63. Winsy

64. Carl Richardson

65. DNR Zero

66. Peter Vicente

67. The Naughty Boys

68. Katherine Yarrow

69. Harry Proctor

70. Winsy

71. Jez Lowe

72. Jan Proctor

73. Boothby Graffoe

74. Harry Proctor

75. Teesside Development Corporation

76. The Skapones

77. Caroline Brown

78. Tony Readman

79. Reg Smyth : Andy Capp & Flo

80. Phil Reay

81. Bob Fox

82. Comrade Ramirez McHaggis

83. Debbie Carter

84. Hartlepool Fash Watch

85. Peter Vicente

86. Uncle George

87. Northern Daily Mail/Press Association

88. Town Of Hartlepool Challenge [THREAD CLOSED BY ORDER OF DPRK!]

89. Maxy Neil Bianco

90. Winsy

91. Dave Spencer

92. Jan Proctor

93. BBC News

94. Wildcats of Middleton

95. Winsy

96. Maxy Neil Bianco

97. Winsy

98. Harry Blackwood

99. The Woven Project : Quiet Girl

100. Phil Reay / Balotelli

101. Brian Clough

102. Graeme Oxby / Angel Brothers

103. Lewis Longwill

104. Strava

105. Paul Davis

106. The Young ‘uns : Cable Street

107. The Other Record Shop

108. 883 Postal and Courier Squadron, Hartlepool TA Centre

109. David Icke

110. Classified. D-Notice

111. NHS Darlington, Durham Dales PCT @ Henson Close & Darlington Borough Council Joint Commissioning Team on behalf of Easington PCT

112. Winsy & Coalfields Regeneration Trust

113. Only Fans

114. Average Joe’s

[irishfederalreconnaissance]

Homeland Security Committee on the Irish Republican Army (MI-6)

Chief Chamberlin: Mitch "Dragfield" McConnell.

Senator Supervising: Barack "Habeebi" Obama.

National Security Agency: Sandi "Khelkhet" MacDonald.

US Army Intelligence: Ben "B-Rock" Carl.

NKVD Vietnam: Dennis "Thresh" Fong.

British Navy: Silver "Stitches" Laventi.

Republic of Ireland: David "Chet" Charlebois.

Federal Bureau of Investigation: Alexandra "Miasma" Rhzanova.

Red Alert Team:

Persian Intelligence: Jeffrey "Dr. Leo" Lange.

Al-Qaeda: Amanda "Gemma" Schuck.

Chicago Poly Mercantile: Pat "Haggar" Ware.

NYPD: Momo "Kobun" Yubari.

Boston Gennero: Uma "The Bride" Thurman.

Harrison's Betting Parlor: Maureen "M" Charlebois.

Personal Bearing ("Chet", Republic of Ireland):

Target: Proctor and Gambol, police unions of dairy.

Jack Napier: Boy Scouts of America.

Edward Nygma: DC Comics.

Victor Fries: National Security Agency.

Jonathan Crane: Air Force Reserve Officer Training Corps.

The Joker: Homeland Security.

Bane: Committee for Security Services (KGB).

Oswald Cobblepot: Eros (North Korean MSS).

Digger Harkness: Sinn Fein.

Eric Needham: INTERPOL Taiwan.

[ao3feed-hawksilver]

Through The Eyes Of A Child

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/OtSBe24

by LadybugDreamer

Steve went into the Barnes mansion because he wanted to get rid of the ghosts inside. Brooklyn wants to turn the gorgous mansion into a school for children. But every time that is attempted, someone gets hurt. Or scared. And turns away from the project. So the Avengers are sent in to take care of the damn hauntings so they can do something with the house that has been sitting, unused, for over a century.

Bucky grows tired of staying in the mansion. He's fourteen. Or... he is? Isn't he? He can't remember the last time he was able to go outside and feel the sun. He can't remember the last birthday he had. The Omega barely remembers what it's like to have fun. Have friends. And then a group of ghost hunters come in, trying to get rid of his family. But they have nowhere to go.

The only people the Barnes' likes are Helmut Zemo and his son, Carl. Becaue they're sweet. They smell nice. And they don't try to chace the family out of the only home they've ever known. But when they meet the Avengers. And the Avengers meet them... Everything changes for all of them.

Words: 2739, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage

Categories: Multi, Other

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Rebecca Barnes Proctor, Winifred Barnes, George Barnes (Marvel), Original Child Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Pietro Maximoff, Pepper Potts, Tony Stark, Helmut Zemo, Sam Wilson, Brock Rumlow, Other Character Tags to Be Added

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Pietro Maximoff, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Additional Tags: Haunting, Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Ghosts, Ghost Bucky Barnes, Murder Mystery, Child Murder, family murder, Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Omega Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Bucky Barnes, Omega Rebecca Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha Natahsa Romanov, Alpha Pietro Maximoff, Omega Clint Barton, Omega Wanda Maximoff, Alpha Pepper Potts, Beta Tony Stark, Alpha Helmut Zemo, Alpha Sam Wilson, Creepy Brock Rumlow, Past Character Death, Sad and Happy, Ending hasn't been decided yet, Sad Ending, Happy Ending, your pick, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Author Is Sleep Deprived, The Author Regrets Nothing, Ghost Hunters, Avengers Ghost Hunters, Paranormal Investigators, Paranormal

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/OtSBe24

#hawksilver #silverhawk #clietro #avengers #the avengers

[theyre-gay-because-i-say-so]

Today’s LGBT+ Headcanon is;

Carl Proctor from Police Academy-Gay

Requested by Anon

Status: Alive

#Carl Proctor #Police Academy #gay #lgbt headcanon #character of the day #mlm #movies #fandoms i'm not in #lgbt #headcanons #requested #Alive

[parrotvoid]

The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator: Useful or pseudo-science?

I’m a huge fan of the MBTI system.  It’s opened the door to deep self-reflection, given me a community of interesting, like-minded people, is a useful heuristic for understanding the people around me, and sparked a passion for personality and cognitive science (which has gone much past MBTI).  

The MBTI system is based off of the cognitive function theories of renown psychologist Carl Jung, and was founded by a mother-daughter team, Katherine Myers and Isabell Briggs, in 1962.  The system works by creating four dimensions of personality with each dimension having two categories representing a different set of behavioral patterns.  This propagates as: Extrovert ( E ) vs Introvert ( I ), intuitive ( N ) vs Sensor ( S ), Feeler ( F ) vs Thinker ( T ), and Judger ( J ) vs Perceiver ( P ). These dimensions can be further broken down into specific cognitive functions, but just to keep things simple for this post here is a basic visualization:

The combination of these eight letters creates 16 personality types which have their own associated behavioral patterns that emerge out of the interplay between the combination of the dominant four letters.  A very basic form of this can be visualized in the below picture:  

Of course, everyone is unique, but on a population level each MBTI type is associated with specific strengths and weaknesses, career interests, temperaments, and compatibilities.  Your MBTI type is often determined by taking a test asking questions about your typical behaviors and preferences.  Each question is targeted to specific cognitive functions, so by the end of the test your answers should cluster around a specific personality type.  

Despite the claims of MBTI not being scientific, businesses have used the MBTI instrument for decades and there is a wealth of studies on the effectiveness of the MBTI instrument in scientific journals studying business and organizational psychology. This doesn’t mean the system is perfect (we’ll be getting into that in a minute) and controversies rise when organizations misuse or overemphasize an employee’s MBTI type when making promotion, hiring, and firing decisions.  It can also be severely misused when people use their MBTI type as a stand-in for their identity or as an excuse for bad behavior. Discovering your MBTI type should be used as a descriptive tool to guide self-reflection and personal growth.  

Because many of these tests are self-administered, their accuracy is highly dependent on having an accurate self-perception and honestly answering the questions.  A huge concern in any personality assessment being performed for work, school, or being viewed by others is that the test taker may answer the questions the way they think they SHOULD or WANT to answer them instead of how they really act and feel.  I’ve seen plenty of people get screwy results because they answered the questions based on what they wanted to be like, instead of how they actually are.  I’ve seen highly extroverted, party animals answer that they would “rather spend a Friday night reading a book instead of going out”, even though they spend every actual Friday night out with their friends.  Mistyped individuals, especially ones who over-identify with their mistyped personality type, can create a lot of confusion within the MBTI community and cause a lot of statistical problems when trying to analyze the validity of MBTI.  One solution is to have professionally proctored tests outside of the work setting, but these are often expensive and rare.

Issues like the ones discussed above are why I totally understand the reason MBTI has received so much criticism from the psychology community and has even been called pseudo-science.  Mainstream psychology prefers the OCEAN (aka Big 5) personality metric to the MBTI.  OCEAN stands for the traits it characterizes: Openness to experience, Conscientiousness, Extroversion, Agreeableness, and Neuroticism.  The OCEAN model still suffers from the issues of bias and dishonesty during test taking, however it does address some issues better than the traditional MBTI model.  Let’s list these out below:

1.  MBTI categorizes personality into 16 distinct types. The modern scientific study of personality has determined that personality lies on a continuum with most people falling in the middle.  This means that someone who’s slight introverted will have more in common with a slightly extroverted person than a very introverted person.  The OCEAN model plots people on a continuous scale to more accurately address this issue.  To be fair to MBTI, the modern versions of the test give you a percentage on your specific traits, in the same way that OCEAN does.  

2. OCEAN’s measured personality dimensions (Openness to experience, Conscientiousness, Extroversion, Agreeableness, and Neuroticism) were chosen through a data driven method analyzing clusters of commonly associated behavioral patterns, while MBTI’s personality dimensions were determined from psycho-analytic theory.  My issue with this criticism is that there’s not necessarily anything more scientific or special about using a machine to draw patterns vs a human brain to draw patterns.  Patterns are patterns, and I actually think a comparison of dimensions in MBTI and OCEAN actually shows the power of the human brain.  The human created MBTI dimensions fairly neatly overlap the dimensions of the data science derived OCEAN model:  E vs I = high vs low Extroversion, N vs S = high vs low Openness, F vs T = high vs low Agreeableness, J vs T = high vs low Conscientiousness, and the final factor Neuroticism has been recently incorporated into MBTI as “turbulence”.  Essentially, knowing a person’s OCEAN score tells you their MBTI type and the same goes for the other way around.

3.  The final and most valid criticism of MBTI is that personality can change over time.  Most models of the MBTI state that your type remains fixed after adolescence, although the more complex MBTI models allow for growth and development in the lower functions.  On the other hand, the OCEAN model often expects and predicts change throughout a person’s life.  However, it should be noted that there is strong evidence to suggest that people have a genetically determined base personality type which they default to and develop off of. What this means is that someone with naturally low Extroversion (let’s say scoring 5% on E) may develop into an Extrovert (scoring 60% on E) but chances are low that they would ever become highly extroverted (> 85% E).  

So, is MBTI a perfect tool for describing the rich and complex variables of human personality?  Obviously not.  But is MBTI pseudo-science garbage no more accurate than astrology?  I think that’s taking it too far.  MBTI may not pass the muster of science, but as long as it isn’t rigidly adhered to it is accurate enough for business and people looking for some extra guidance in their life and relationships.  Overall, MBTI is a fun tool to help you reflect on yourself and learn a little about other people. MBTI is not science so once it stops being useful to you, learn to put it aside. 

Below are some videos that I think give good arguments from both sides of the issue:

#mbti #myers-briggs #personality #personality test #mbti personalities #mbti personality types #science #psychology #pseudoscience #big 5 #ocean #intj #intp #entp #entj #infp #infj #enfj #enfp #esfp #esfj #isfj #istj #estj #estp #istp

[ao3feed-janeausten]

Police Academy 8: Police And Prejudice

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3vL3E3w

by Amymimi

Is Captain Thaddeus Harris more than just an arrogant, hard-nosed cop?

Words: 10567, Chapters: 4/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Police Academy (Movies), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Thaddeus Harris, Debbie Callahan, Eric Lassard, Laverne Hooks, Moses Hightower, Carl Proctor, Larvelle Jones, Carey Mahoney

Relationships: Thaddeus Harris / OC

Additional Tags: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Humor, An Asshole Darcy, Black sheep Elizabeth, Mentor/Protégé

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3vL3E3w

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Jane Austen

[docrotten]

Warlock (1989) – Episode 181 – Decades of Horror 1980s

"Our interest lies in finding that damned book, and thwarting a vile beast of a man who shall not rest until God himself is thrown down, and all of creation becomes Satan's black hell-besmeared farting hole!" Okay, but only if it’s hell-besmeared. Join your faithful Grue-Crew - Crystal Cleveland, Chad Hunt, Bill Mulligan, and Jeff Mohr -  as they learn the ins and outs of life as a witch-hunter in Warlock (1989).

Decades of Horror 1980s Episode 181 – Warlock (1981)

Join the Crew on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel! Subscribe today! And click the alert to get notified of new content! https://youtube.com/gruesomemagazine

 A warlock flees from the 17th to the 20th century, with a witch-hunter in hot pursuit.

IMDb

  Director: Steve Miner

Writer: David Twohy (as D.T. Twohy)

Music by: Jerry Goldsmith

Special Effects: Ken Pepiot (special effects coordinator)

Visual makeup effects: Carl Fullerton, Neal Martz

Selected Cast

Julian Sands as Warlock

Lori Singer as Kassandra

Richard E. Grant as Giles Redferne

Mary Woronov as Channeler

Kevin O'Brien as Chas

Richard Kuss as Mennonite

Allan Miller as Detective

Anna Thomson as Pastor's Wife (as Anna Levine)

David Carpenter as Pastor

Kay E. Kuter as Proctor

Ian Abercrombie as Magistrate #1

Kenneth Danziger as Magistrate #2

Art Smith as Scribe

Robert Breeze as Jailor

Frank Renzulli as Cabbie

Rob Paulsen as Gas Station attendant

Crystal likes Julian Sands almost as much as she likes a good fog machine, so it came as no surprise that her pick for this episode is Warlock. She also likes the different take that comes from featuring a warlock rather than a witch and still enjoys the film, despite the poor aging makeup effects on Lori Singer’s character. Bill points out that the weak aging effects are not the fault of the makeup effects artists and are the result of the actor’s choice. He also admits he expected a late 80s cheese-fest and his expectations are fulfilled by the cheesy visual special effects necessitated by the budget restrictions. Chad likes Warlock, especially Richard Grant’s and Julian Sands’ performances, but thinks it could be a lot better with a little more money. Jeff liked Warlock when he saw it back in the day and still does, but agrees with the rest of the Grue-Crew that the animated effects are a bit on the cheesy side.

Despite being dated, in particular in terms of animated effects, your Decades of Horror 1970s Grue-Crew is glad to have covered Warlock. Currently, Warlock is available VOD and on Blu-ray as part of the Warlock 1-3 Collection from  Lionsgate.

Every two weeks, Gruesome Magazine’s Decades of Horror 1980s podcast will cover another horror film from the 1980s. The next episode’s film, chosen by Chad will be Madman (1981).  You won’t want to miss that one!

Please let them know how they’re doing! They want to hear from you – the coolest, grooviest fans:  leave them a message or leave a comment on the gruesome Magazine Youtube channel, on the website or email the Decades of Horror 1980s podcast hosts at [email protected]

Check out this episode!

[theoutcastrogue]

A selection from Spoon River Anthology

Spoon River Anthology (1915), by Edgar Lee Masters, is a collection of short free verse poems that collectively narrates the epitaphs of the residents of Spoon River, a fictional small town. The aim of the poems is to demystify rural and small town American life. The collection includes 212 separate characters, in all providing 244 accounts of their lives, losses, and manner of death. Many of the poems contain cross-references that create an unabashed tapestry of the community. [x]

Paula Malcomson as Trixie in Deadwood (2004-2006)

Aner Clute

Over and over they used to ask me, While buying the wine or the beer, In Peoria first, and later in Chicago, Denver, Frisco, New York, wherever I lived How I happened to lead the life, And what was the start of it. Well, I told them a silk dress, And a promise of marriage from a rich man— (It was Lucius Atherton). But that was not really it at all. Suppose a boy steals an apple From the tray at the grocery store, And they all begin to call him a thief, The editor, minister, judge, and all the people— “A thief,” “a thief,” “a thief,” wherever he goes And he can’t get work, and he can’t get bread Without stealing it, why the boy will steal. It’s the way the people regard the theft of the apple That makes the boy what he is.

Before My Helpless Sight (Dulce et Decorum Est), relief engraving by Neil Bousfield

Knowlt Hoheimer

I was the first fruits of the battle of Missionary Ridge. When I felt the bullet enter my heart I wished I had staid at home and gone to jail For stealing the hogs of Curl Trenary, Instead of running away and joining the army. Rather a thousand times the county jail Than to lie under this marble figure with wings, And this granite pedestal Bearing the words, “Pro Patria.” What do they mean, anyway?

Bird Cage poker table where the longest poker game was played [x]

“Ace” Shaw

I never saw any difference Between playing cards for money And selling real estate, Practicing law, banking, or anything else. For everything is chance. Nevertheless Seest thou a man diligent in business? He shall stand before Kings!

Tom Beatty

I was a lawyer like Harmon Whitney Or Kinsey Keene or Garrison Standard, For I tried the rights of property, Although by lamp-light, for thirty years, In that poker room in the opera house. And I say to you that Life’s a gambler Head and shoulders above us all. No mayor alive can close the house. And if you lose, you can squeal as you will; You’ll not get back your money. He makes the percentage hard to conquer; He stacks the cards to catch your weakness And not to meet your strength. And he gives you seventy years to play: For if you cannot win in seventy You cannot win at all. So, if you lose, get out of the room— Get out of the room when your time is up. It’s mean to sit and fumble the cards And curse your losses, leaden-eyed, Whining to try and try.

The Haymarket Martyrs by Flavio Costantini 

Carl Hamblin

The press of the Spoon River Clarion was wrecked, And I was tarred and feathered, For publishing this on the day the Anarchists were hanged in Chicago: “I saw a beautiful woman with bandaged eyes Standing on the steps of a marble temple. Great multitudes passed in front of her, Lifting their faces to her imploringly. In her left hand she held a sword. She was brandishing the sword, Sometimes striking a child, again a laborer, Again a slinking woman, again a lunatic. In her right hand she held a scale; Into the scale pieces of gold were tossed By those who dodged the strokes of the sword. A man in a black gown read from a manuscript: “She is no respecter of persons.” Then a youth wearing a red cap Leaped to her side and snatched away the bandage. And lo, the lashes had been eaten away From the oozy eye-lids; The eye-balls were seared with a milky mucus; The madness of a dying soul Was written on her face— But the multitude saw why she wore the bandage.”

An execution by hanging, Missouri, 1896

Hod Putt

Here I lie close to the grave Of Old Bill Piersol, Who grew rich trading with the Indians, and who Afterwards took the Bankrupt Law And emerged from it richer than ever Myself grown tired of toil and poverty And beholding how Old Bill and others grew in wealth Robbed a traveler one Night near Proctor’s Grove, Killing him unwittingly while doing so, For which I was tried and hanged. That was my way of going into bankruptcy. Now we who took the bankrupt law in our respective ways Sleep peacefully side by side.

The Circuit Judge

Take note, passers-by, of the sharp erosions Eaten in my head-stone by the wind and rain— Almost as if an intangible Nemesis or hatred Were marking scores against me, But to destroy, and not preserve, my memory. I in life was the Circuit judge, a maker of notches, Deciding cases on the points the lawyers scored, Not on the right of the matter. O wind and rain, leave my head-stone alone For worse than the anger of the wronged, The curses of the poor, Was to lie speechless, yet with vision clear, Seeing that even Hod Putt, the murderer, Hanged by my sentence, Was innocent in soul compared with me.

Illustration for Fiddler Jones by Michael Miller 

Fiddler Jones

The earth keeps some vibration going There in your heart, and that is you. And if the people find you can fiddle, Why, fiddle you must, for all your life. What do you see, a harvest of clover? Or a meadow to walk through to the river? The wind’s in the corn; you rub your hands For beeves hereafter ready for market; Or else you hear the rustle of skirts Like the girls when dancing at Little Grove. To Cooney Potter a pillar of dust Or whirling leaves meant ruinous drouth; They looked to me like Red-Head Sammy Stepping it off, to “Toor-a-Loor.” How could I till my forty acres Not to speak of getting more, With a medley of horns, bassoons and piccolos Stirred in my brain by crows and robins And the creak of a wind-mill—only these? And I never started to plow in my life That some one did not stop in the road And take me away to a dance or picnic. I ended up with forty acres; I ended up with a broken fiddle— And a broken laugh, and a thousand memories, And not a single regret.

#long post #Edgar Lee Masters #poetry #rogues in fiction #the deserter #no tears for the creatures of the night #prison #the gambler's face cracks into a grin #the phantom of liberty #swinging from the gallows tree #big thief little thief #I fought the law

[paceypeternathanslawyer]

Iconic things about The Dick Van Dyke Show

-For the time The Dick Van Dyke Show was incredibly diverse. You got to remember this was the early 1960s, back in the day you were lucky to see African Americans in any capacity and when they were in shows or movies they were strictly in the service industry. That started to change in the late 50s to early 60s and TDVDS was kinda the start of that in Television. People of color were depicted in different capacities than usual. In the episode “That’s My Boy??” the actors Greg Morris and Mimi Dillard played a normal upper middle class family. In this episode Rob thinks that Laura and himself were sent home with the wrong baby from the hospital and he believes that their baby was taken by a family with the last name Peters. The Peters ended up being African American and they were depicted as well dressed and well spoken people who seemed to live in a similar area and walk of life as the Petries and in that episode the black couple is funny and completely sane whereas the white man (Rob) is depicted as the butt of the joke. Also at the end of the episode Rob subtly mentions how their son Richie is getting horrible grades and the Peters’ son is at the top of the class. It’s small things like that, that had never been seen on Television. In a episode named “The Man from My Uncle“ an actor by the name of Godfrey Campbell played an FBI agent. And that’s not counting the numerous POC in smaller roles or as extras in scenes. This was a time where you were lucky to see POC even as extras. -The feminism in TDVDS took amazing strides as well. There were times where Rob is shown to be very insecure, and I think that’s some of the most of it’s time aspects of the show. It’s not great, but it’s realistic. One of my favorite character choices for Laura Petrie is that we find out that she is proficient in self defense.... she learned self defense techniques when she was an entertainer for the troops. In the episode “My Mother Can Beat Up My Father,” a drunk at a bar harasses Laura and Rob tries to defend her and he gets laid out by the drunk. Laura then does a judo throw on the guy and lays him out. It becomes a big thing for Rob in that episode and he’s very insecure about the fact that Laura can take a guy that Rob can’t. But Laura does not apologize for that fact, and in one scene Rob is trying to prove that he’s all tough and so he challenges Laura to do the same throw with him. Laura doesn’t pretend she can’t do it to spare his fragile masculinity, she lays him out and if I remember correctly he broke a few bones. Also the character of Sally Rogers has been touted as one of the first women’s lib characters. She’s a Television writer alongside Rob and Buddy and she is treated with respect and is presumably paid the same as Buddy who is a writer on her same level. She is a proud career woman who is damn good at her job, and is an equal to the men in her workplace. Another big way that TDVDS broke ground was the fact that Laura wears capri pants. Believe it or not that caused a firestorm of controversy.... up to that point housewives had been shown as wearing dresses and skirts on TV and once the dust settled the fact that Mary Tyler Moore wore capri pants on TDVDS caused those pants to become a huge fashion craze in the 60s. -TDVDS became a huge hit starting with the second season against all odds. First off Carl Reiner had created the show a couple years prior and had actually shot a pilot with an entirely different cast and with himself in the lead, at that time it was called “Head Of The Family.” It aired and did not get picked up. Carl just gave up on it and it lay on a shelf collecting dust. A couple years later someone with the William Morris Agency tried to get Carl to retry it and he refused. That agent then went to the most successful producer at that time, Sheldon Leonard. Sheldon was known for having a perfect record for his pilots, absolutely all of them had been picked up to series, some of which were huge hit shows. Sheldon saw the show and immediately saw the potential. He approached Carl about the idea of retrying with an entirely different cast and name.... once a famous producer says they have faith in your show, how can you say no. So they set to the task of finding a cast. Dick Van Dyke was one of the first people to be cast in the show, and at that point Dick was in the middle of a successful run on Broadway in the show “Bye Bye Birdie” which he’d won a Tony Award for, but being successful on Broadway doesn’t usually translate to fame with the general public (up until Lin Manuel Miranda that was true). So not only did they cast an unknown in the lead role but they then turned around and named the show on the said unknown actor. That was an extremely ballsy and risky move. At the time there were a lot of shows named after actors but they were all famous stars like Doris Day etc. To name a show after an unknown actor was unheard of!! They then cast Mary Tyler Moore (who was an unknown), they cast Rose Marie (who was never hugely famous, but had a really good career on radio and in night clubs. But even if you consider her to have been famous, she was kind of a has been), Morey Amsterdam was cast (an unknown), Jerry Paris and Ann Morgan Guilbert were cast (also unknowns). It was really a cast full of unknowns in the leads. There were no big names. Which was really a disadvantage going in. The first season bombed, it was near the end of the Nielsen ratings and morale was severely low at the end of the season. Sheldon Leonard actually got word from a friend who was on the committee that decided which shows were cancelled and which her renewed, that the show had indeed been cancelled and it just hadn’t been announced yet. So Sheldon went into problem solving mode. He knew that going to the network wouldn’t get him anywhere. At that time sponsors were king and TDVDS had one of the biggest sponsors in the game, Proctor And Gamble. So Sheldon flew to Proctor And Gamble’s headquarters and in his own words he “sang mammy” in other words he begged and he charmed their pants off (figuratively) :) At the end of his pitch, they agreed to go to bat for the show... on one condition.... that he found a sponsor to sponsor the second half of the season. So he raced from sponsor to sponsor pitching his show and begging them to co sponsor them. He was in the middle of a pitch when he was alerted that Kent Cigarettes had decided to sponsor their second half. Proctor And Gamble and Kent Cigarettes went up against CBS and demanded that they renew TDVDS or else they would withdraw support from all their other popular shows. And CBS caved and renewed the show. With S2, TDVDS became a massive success and by the end of S5 the network was begging Carl Reiner to make another season but Carl wanted to end the show while they were still on top. TDVDS also became the darling of the awards shows. They continually swept the Emmys every year starting with S2. They won for writing, directing, and acting, it also won Best Comedy in 1966 with it’s final season.

-The scripts were largely based off of real life. Nowadays it’s more common for shows to take ideas from real life, but at the time Carl Reiner’s wish for authenticity was largely unheard of. Writers on the show described the writing sessions as therapy sessions because it would start with Carl probing into their life and them talking about embarrassing things that happened to them. Carl and the writers would take those ideas and make them bigger and crazier but there was always that nugget of truth in there.

-The marriage between Rob and Laura was also iconic. You gotta figure that I Love Lucy was a huge show of the past decade and it really shaped most future shows. In some ways TDVDS was the antithesis of that. Carl wanted to create a show where the main married couple was united... it was them against the world. He shied away from battle of the sexes storylines whenever possible. He wanted Rob and Laura to be clearly in love. And it’s a unique relationship where you can tell that those two have an active sex life... and that was really unique for the time.

-Carl Reiner made a decision at the beginning of the show that he would never use popular slang terms of the 60s. In fact if you watch beginning to end, only one slang term slipped in, in S5. Otherwise, he remarkably kept to that. Because of that crucial decision, TDVDS is not as dated as it could be and it has a very timeless feel to it.

-The cast was known to get along famously, there were only a few moments of tension, otherwise the set was known to be very light and there was little tension. They were all pranksters and the set was alive with hilarity, laughter, and pranks. They used to haze guest stars... most of the guest stars were fine with being hazed but there was one who did not take it so well. During the filming of one episode Robert Vaughn was the guest star and he was on the outskirts of the set waiting for his cue to come in. The actors led the entire cast and crew off the set and turned off the lights and left Robert waiting for his cue for about an hour, until he walked in to see what the holdup was only to find the entire cast and crew gone. It’s hilarious, but he wasn’t too happy. The cast was like a huge family, but most guest stars described them as being very welcoming as well.

Edit. Another iconic thing I almost forgot is the fact that certain episodes are used in film classes as examples of how to write comedy. It’s so funny and iconic that it is the textbook case of how to write comedy shows!!!! When will your favorite show ever... ;)

#the dick van dyke show #long post #iconic #diversity #feminism #emmys #tdvds #robert petrie #rob petrie #carl reiner #sheldon leonard #laura petrie #buddy sorrell #sally rogers #dick van dyke #mary tyler moore #morey amsterdam #rose marie #jerry paris #ann morgan guilbert #robert vaughn #the golden age of hollywood #the golden age of tv #greg morris #mimi dillard #godfrey campbell

[pass-the-bechdel]

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend s02e05 ‘Why Is Josh’s Ex-Girlfriend Eating Carbs?’

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

Yes, nine times, and with more than two female characters at the same time.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Six (46.15% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Seven.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Episode Quality:

Moving up in the world again, finally.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Rebecca and Heather pass at the start of the episode. Rebecca sees Paula off in class. Rebecca pesters Valencia, twice. They go to Electric Mesa. They pee on stuff together. Heather, Rebecca, and Valencia get donuts. Rebecca and Paula see each other at the donut place. The end of the episode follows up on Rebecca and Valencia’s earlier conversation.

Female characters:

Rebecca Bunch.

Heather Davis.

Paula Proctor.

Valencia Perez.

Madison Whitefeather.

Anna Hicks.

Male characters:

Sunil Odhav.

Alex.

Josh Chan.

White Josh.

Darryl Whitefeather.

Carl.

Sherpa Allen.

OTHER NOTES:

This split ballet sequence is killing me. 

Valencia and Rebecca finally bonding is refreshing.

a SNAAAIILLL!!!

See, I don’t love the way they include Rebecca’s feminist leanings a lot of the time, they tend to present it as this ranting thing (often, one which no one else wants to hear about, even other women), and that has the effect of packaging it as a part of Rebecca’s neuroses instead of something valid and to be taken seriously. And since she sometimes rants a few lines on a feminist subject only to have no one else (nor even the plot itself) engage, followed by Rebecca herself pursuing and defining her life around men (even if she does then bemoan that she is acting against her own ideals), such moments also have that effect of seeming shoehorned in. This episode did better, both in having Rebecca involve her ideology in her driving motivation for the plot, and in having Valencia and even Heather eventually engage with feminist discussion as well; I hope they can keep that up, because the series premiere had me thinking they were going to be much more on top of this than they often have been since.

This was nice! It pushed forward various character narratives! It introduced new elements and paved new roads for the story to follow down! In short, it progressed both the plot and the people within it, which is exactly what I felt like the first several episodes of this season failed to do in any meaningful way. Plus, a lovely White Josh subplot, so I guess it’s no surprise they got me in a good mood. This was nice; a bit weird, but nice. 

#Why Is Josh's Ex-Girlfriend Eating Carbs? #Crazy Ex-Girlfriend #Crazy Ex-Girlfriend season two #Bechdel Test #female representation #Crazy Exgirlfriend

[ourmrmel]

Mel Feller, MPA, MHR. Shares Quotes to Charge the Entrepreneurial Spirit

Mel Feller, MPA, MHR. Shares Quotes to Charge the Entrepreneurial Spirit

 Mel is the President/Founder of Mel Feller Seminars with Coaching for Success 360, Inc. and Mel Feller Coaching.  Mel Feller maintains offices in Texas and in Utah.

  Quotes.  Entrepreneurs are fascinated with them.  They spark our creativity, motivate us to action, and inspire us to greatness. They offer us insights into the spirit behind innovation and genius. In addition, they act as fuel to the fire that burns deep within every true entrepreneur.

  The quotes below are, in Mel Feller’s opinion, some of the best of the best.  They come from authors, poets, inventors, scholars, and entrepreneurs – all legends in their own rights.  So jot them down on Post-it notes and decorate your workspace. Grab red lipstick and write them in sweeping letters across your mirrors.  Pick your favorite and brand it on your…palm.  The right words at the right time can be paramount to your success, so do whatever it takes to keep inspiration nearby.

  “If you don’t design your own life plan, chances are you’ll fall into someone else’s plan. And guess what they have planned for you? Not much.” Jim Rohn, Entrepreneur, Author, Motivational Speaker

  “In life and business, there are two cardinal sins: The first is to act without thought, and the second is to not act at all.” – Carl Icahn, Investor and Entrepreneur

  “Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” Ralph Waldo Emerson, Poet

  “A business has to be involving, it has to be fun, and it has to exercise your creative instincts.” – Richard Branson, Entrepreneur

  “Can anything be sadder than work left unfinished? Yes; work never begun.” – Christina Rossetti, Author

  “Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.” Williams Jenning Bryan, Politician and three-time Presidential candidate

  “Watch, listen, and learn. You can’t know it all yourself. Anyone who thinks they do is destined for mediocrity.” – Donald Trump, Business Mogul

  “High expectations are the key to everything.” – Sam Walton, Entrepreneur

  “The only place where success comes before work is in the dictionary.” – Vidal Sassoon, Entrepreneur

  “Do not wait to strike till the iron is hot; but make it hot by striking.” William Butler Yeats, Poet

  “I know the price of success: dedication, hard work, and an unremitting devotion to the things you want to see happen.” - Frank Lloyd Wright, Architect and Entrepreneur

  “Opportunity is missed by most because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.” – Thomas Alva Edison, Inventor and Entrepreneur

  “If you work just for money, you’ll never make it, but if you love what you’re doing and you always put the customer first, success will be yours.” – Ray Kroc, Entrepreneur

  “The secret of success is constancy to purpose.” – Benjamin Disraeli, Author, Politician and Scholar

  “How many cares one loses when one decides not to be something but to be someone.” – Coco Chanel, Entrepreneur

  “A successful person is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks that others throw at him.” - David Brinkley, Newscaster

  “I owe my success to having listened respectfully to the very best advice, and then going away and doing the exact opposite.” – G. K. Chesterton, Author

  “Those who try to do something and fail are infinitely better than those who try nothing and succeed.” Lloyd Jones

  “I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life and that is why I succeed.”­ – Michael Jordan, Basketball Legend and Entrepreneur

  “Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.” - Thomas Alva Edison, Inventor and Entrepreneur

  “Not doing more than the average is what keeps the average down.” - William M. Winans, Clergyman

  “Six essential qualities that are the key to success: Sincerity, personal integrity, humility, courtesy, wisdom, charity.” William Menninger, Entrepreneur

  “My will shall shape the future.  Whether I fail or succeed shall be no one’s doing but my own. I am the force. I can clear any obstacle before me or I can be lost in the maze. My choice. My responsibility. Win or lose; only I hold the key to my destiny.” - Elaine Maxwell, Author

  “It is common sense to take a method and try it. If it fails, admit it frankly and try another. But above all, try something.” – Franklin D. Roosevelt, 32nd American President

  “You can’t build a reputation on what you’re going to do.” - Henry Ford, Entrepreneur

  “The young do not know enough to be prudent, and therefore they attempt the impossible — and achieve it, generation after generation.” - Pearl S. Buck, Author

  “It is on our failures that we base a new and different and better success.” – Havelock Ellis, Physician and Author

  “Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.” - Goethe

  “With courage you will dare to take risks, have the strength to be compassionate, and the wisdom to be humble. Courage is the foundation of integrity.” - Keshavan Nair, Author – Gandhi Biographer

  “To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe.” - Anatole France, Poet

  “Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” - T. S. Eliot, Author

  “Some people have thousands of reasons why they cannot do what they want to, when all they need is one reason why they can.” Willis R. Whitney, American Chemist

  “For every failure, there’s an alternative course of action. You just have to find it. When you come to a roadblock, take a detour.” - Mary Kay Ash, Entrepreneur

  “Whether you think you can or you can’t, you are usually right.” -Henry Ford

 “If we did all the things we are capable of doing, we would literally astound ourselves” -Thomas Edison

  “There is a time in every man’s education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till. The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

  “We must all suffer one of two things: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret or disappointment.” Jim Rohn

  “I demolish my bridges behind me… then there is no choice but to move forward.” — Fridtjof Nansen

  “The best way to predict the future is to invent it.” — Alan Kay

  “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.” — Michelangelo

  “Not everyone who chased the zebra caught it, but he who caught it chased it.” — South African proverb

 “The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.” — Walt Disney

  “In my mind, I’ve always been an A-list Hollywood superstar. Y’all just didn’t know yet.” — Will Smith

  “Don’t worry about people stealing your ideas. If it’s original, you’ll have to ram it down their throats.” — Howard Aiken

  “I couldn’t wait for success, so I went ahead without it.” — Jonathan Winters

  “It’s not that I’m so smart, it’s just that I stay with problems longer.” — Albert Einstein

  “There is no elevator to success. You have to take the stairs.” — Unknown

  “It’s not what you are that holds you back. It’s what you think you’re not.”

- Denis Waitley

  “The time to repair the roof is when the sun is shining.”

- John F. Kennedy

  “Coming home from very lonely places, all of us go a little mad: whether from great personal success, or just an all-night drive, we are the sole survivors of a world no one else has ever seen.” - John le Carre

  This one came from a fortune cookie, but it sure is poignant: “Affirm it, visualize it, believe it, and it will actualize itself”  (And if you’re curious, the “Learn Chinese” word on the back is Mian, meaning Inside.)

   “Think it, write it, act on it, stick to the process; count your wins or losses and repeat the process.” This is the whole duty of an entrepreneur. – Ajaero Tony Martins

  “All our dreams can come true – if we have the courage to pursue them.” – Walt Disney

  “There comes a time in every man’s life, and I’ve had plenty of them.” Casey Stengel

  “Whatever the mind of man can conceive and believe, it can achieve!” –Napoleon Hill

  “A successful person is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks that others throw at him.” – David Brinkley

  “I demolish my bridges behind me… then there is no choice but to move forward.” — Fridtjof Nansen

  “I celebrate failure – it can temper your character and pave the way for great achievement” -    Kamran Elahian, Serial Entrepreneur

 “It takes 20 years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it. If you think about that, you’ll do things differently.” - Warren Buffett

  “The best way to predict the future is to invent it.” — Alan Kay

  “Be like a postage stamp. Stick to it until you get there.” – Bob Proctor

  “A successful person is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks that others throw at him.” – David Brinkley

 “People rarely succeed unless they have fun in what they are doing.”  - Dale Carnegie

 “Coming together is a beginning. Keeping together is progress. Working together is success.” -Henry Ford

  “Try not to become a man of success but a man of value.” -Albert Einstein

 “Some men see things as they are and ask why. Others dream things that never were and ask why not.” - George Bernard Shaw

  “Watch, listen, and learn. You cannot know it all yourself. Anyone who thinks they do is destined for mediocrity.” – Donald Trump

  “I do not fear failure. I only fear the “slowing up” of the engine inside of me which is pounding, saying, “Keep going, someone must be on top, why not you?”” -General Patton

  “The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all!” – Richard Branson

  “I believe you can train yourself to become a positive thinker, but you must cultivate a desire to develop the skill of setting personal worthy and realistic goals. I am so thoroughly convinced that if we don’t set goals in our life and learn how to master the technique of living to reach our goals, we can reach a ripe old age and look back on our life only to see that we reached but a small part of our full potential. When you learn to master the principle of setting a goal, you will then be able to make a great difference in the results you attain in this life.” -M. Russell Ballard

  “Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it’s yours.”-  Ayn Rand

  “Quality is the best business plan.” -John Lasseter (Pixar Animation Studios Inc.)

  “The critical ingredient is getting off your butt and doing something. It’s as simple as that. A lot of people have ideas, but there are few who decide to do something about them now. Not tomorrow. Not next week. But today. The true entrepreneur is a doer, not a dreamer.”

- Nolan Bushnell, founder of Atari and Chuck E. Cheese’s

  “Innovation is the specific tool of entrepreneurs, the means by which they exploit change as an opportunity for a different business or a different service. It is capable of being presented as a discipline, capable of being learned, capable of being practiced. Entrepreneurs need to search purposefully for the sources of innovation, the changes and their symptoms that indicate opportunities for successful innovation. And they need to know and to apply the principles of successful innovation.”

- Peter F. Drucker, “The Father of Modern Management”

  “BE the change you want to see in the world” - Mahatma Gandhi

  “When you’re born the world rejoice, while you cry. Live life in such a way that when you die the world cry, while you rejoice” – Robin Sharma

  “Your life is your story, what kind of character are you going to be?” - David Archuleta

  “Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Don’t bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself”  - William Faulkner

  “If you believe you can, you probably can. If you believe you won’t, you most assuredly won’t. Belief is the ignition switch that gets you off the launching pad.”  - Denis Waitley

  “Never doubt that a small group of committed people can CHANGE THE WORLD. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has” – Margaret Mead

  “They who laugh at others with dreams have to look at themselves and realize they laugh because they’re too scared to try” -Louie Ortega

  “The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotion, spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who have never tasted victory or defeat.” - Theodore Roosevelt

Mel Feller, MPA, MHR, is a well-known real estate, business consultant, personal development consultant and speaker, specializing in performance, productivity, and profits. Mel is the President/Founder of Mel Feller Seminars with Coaching For Success 360, Inc. and Mel Feller Coaching, a real estate and business specific coaching company. His three books for real estate professionals are systems on how to become an exceptional sales performer. His four books in Business and Government Grants are ways to leverage and increase your business Success in both time and money! His book on Personal Development “Lies that Will Sabotage Your Success”. Mel Feller is in Texas and In Utah.  Currently an MBA Candidate.

#motivational quotes #quotes #motivation #entrepreneur #entreprenuer #entreprenuership #being an entrepreneur #small business #small steps #small business goals #managing a small business #words at the right time #success #Coaching For Success 360 #entrepreneurial spirit #insights into the spirit #motivate #inspire to greatnes #mel feller #melfeller #mel feller coachin #mel feller seminar #melfeller.com #melfellersuccessstories.com #mel feller in Texas #mel feller in Utah