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oldbaton · 2 years

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one of the things that is crazy about texas is because of its very unique history we generally have our own ethos regarding our country's founding in the same way america does as a whole. we even have our own founding fathers. i referenced sam houston to a friend once and they stared at me blank and i was thinking to myself "how do you not know who is he and what he did- oh right."

and lol dont worry about us missing out our founding fathers were racist slave owners too this isn't out of respect just observation

#i will say for the yanks out there i do recommend checking out SAm houston specifically #the fact that stephen f. austin is considered the father of texas rather than sam is odd to me #sam made much bigger contributions #and held an absurd amount of offices: governor of tennesse before moving to texas #then was the george washington of the texas revolution #then was president of texas. for two non consecutive terms #then was a senator one it was annexed into the states #THEN was the governor of Texas #and then got into a huge blowout with stephen f. austin over whether the capitol should be houston or austin #WILD

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thenewdemocratus · 11 months

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Roger Sharp Archive: ABC News Talking to Jack Ruby's Lawyers (1963)

Source:Roger Sharp Archive– Roger Sharp anchoring this special report for ABC News. “Following the deaths of President John F. Kennedy and his assassin Lee Harvey Oswald, ABC Correspondent Roger Sharp anchors from the WFAA-TV Dallas studios as correspondent Bill Lord interviews lawyers representing Jack Ruby, Oswald’s killer. Excerpts are also shown of a press conference by Nellie Connally, the…

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uniqueartisanconnoisseur · 1 year

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Pasadena and Galveston Ramblings

It took a visit to family in Pasadena with my mom and sister. While there, we saw wonderful things in Pasadena and Galveston that the area has to offer. Family settled in the area so most of our visit was focused on kinfolk. But we made time for a bit of touring. My sister found an air B&B for our stay so the three of us settled into the house. With each of us in our own rooms we had plenty of…

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#Armand Bayou Hike and Bike Trail #Bishop Christopher E. Byrne #Engels on Edwards #family time #Galveston #Galveston Historical Foundation #Lone Star State #Mexican American War #Morning Kolaches #Pasadena #President Antonios Santa Anna #Sacred Heart Church #Sam Houston #San Jacinto Battle Monument and Museum #spurs #Sunflower Bakery & Cafe #The Moody Mansion

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 3 months

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Orange Peel Theory

Jalen is known to be more stoic, especially on the field, but I think around his partner, he's a big ol' softy. The theory states that if your partner peels an orange for you without being asked, it's a sign of true love.

Listening To: Nothing Can Change This Love- Sam Cooke

The afternoon heat was stiflingly hot as you stepped out onto the porch, the humidity immediately drenching you in layer of sweat, your skin sticky to the touch. You wiped your brow with the sleeve of you dress as you surveyed the front yard for Jalen, finding him asleep on the porch swing his grandfather had put up over 40 years ago. You were a couple days into your trip with your boyfriend to his hometown. As soon as the season ended, Jalen spent time with his family and friends back in the suburb of Houston that helped shape him into the man he was today, bringing you with him for the first time.

A strong juxtaposition to the bustle of Philly, Channelview was welcomingly slow and nostalgic, and while you were still weak to the dangerous Texas heat waves, you understood why he couldn't wait to get back here every summer.

You walked over to him, settling down by his legs, draping your own over his lap, his hand resting on your bare thigh, drawing lazy circles on your skin. "What'd you wanna do today, J?"

"This." he chuckled with his eyes still closed, his face shaded by his baseball cap. As soon as he got here, Jalen planned on doing very little but enjoying his rest and spending time with his family before you had to go back to the city and your schedules were crazy again.

Jalen was an old soul. You always joked that it was like you were dating a grandpa; a very sexy grandpa with the body of a Greek God. His demeanor was brazenly southern, with manners that were rare for people his age, and a lazy drawl to his voice that made goosebumps rise on your skin every time he spoke.

You were what your mother always referred to as spirited. Restless and headstrong, you weren't sure you and Jalen were made for each other, your personalities were so inherently different, but here you were, one year into your relationship and stronger than you ever thought possible.

Still, your love wasn't without its hurdles. It took three months for Jalen to ask you on your first date, five dates for him to kiss you, and six months before you two even uttered the words "I love you" to each other. Sometimes you felt like things were moving at the perfect pace, and others agonizingly slow. You wanted all consuming, passionate love, but you wanted it with him, and you knew that meant compromise. He enjoyed everything at his own leisurely pace, including the progressions of your relationship, and you were trying your best to be patient.

"You think you'd ever move back here? After you retire?" You and Jalen had talked about your future together before, mostly at your insistence, but he was always very vague about what he wanted. You could never be sure if it was because he was unsure of his future with you, or something else was holding him back, but you couldn't fight the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach as you left every conversation no more sure of where you stood than before.

Jalen let out a low hum. "I don't even know what I want for dinner, baby, let alone where I wanna be a decade from now." He settled further down against the cushions, crossing his arms over his chest.

You continued to push to see what you could get out of him. "But, you don't ever think about where you'd want to raise your kids? A few little Jalens running across the yard with a football?" You knew it sounded so cliche, wanting the white picket fence and 2.5 kids, a version of the American dream, but you'd always been dreamer.

Jalen could only think about what was in front of him: the next play, the next formation, the next brand deal; it was how he was so successful on the field, but it also drove you crazy.

"Maybe", he mumbled out.

You sighed, realizing you were quickly getting nowhere. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't push him to where he didn't want to go. Unfortunately for both of you, you were stubborn as hell.

"So you don't ever think about where you see yourself, where you see us after you're done with football?" The only thing you got out of him was a grunt, so you continued. "I think about us all the time, Jalen." You were going down a dangerous road that could lead to a fight, and that was the last thing you wanted, but you couldn't stop yourself.

"Where we'll get married, what we'll name our kids. Those are the things I want for us in the future. Do you feel the same?" You listened for his response, only hearing the rhythmic buzzing of insects.

"Jalen, did you here me?" Nothing. "Jalen?"

Finally you got confirmation that he didn't hear a word of your rant as a small snore escaped his lips, followed by a louder gasp for breath.

"Of course", you gritted out between clenched teeth, lifting yourself off the swing and heading back into the house with a slam of the door. Jalen barely stirred, adjusting his hat over his eyes before going back to sleep.

Hours later, after the sun had set, dinner was finished and you got a bit of reprieve from the scorching temperatures, you went back outside, settling on the empty swing with an orange in your hand.

Your conversation, or lack there of really, with Jalen earlier still bothered you. Regardless of your impatient nature and his need to control the pace of everything to his liking, you needed a little reassurance from him. You weren't asking for an engagement ring or to move in with him, but just a sign that you were moving in the right direction together.

"There you are, baby." Jalen's voice startled you as he walked through the threshold, the wood beams squeaking underneath his feet, a smile on his face. That grin made you weak every time you saw it, even when you were mad at him.

"Here I am", you muttered, digging your finger into the skin of the fruit. He sat down next to you with a grunt, pulling you into his side. "I wanna show you my old high school tomorrow. Get to see where your man got his start." He massaged your hip with his finger tips, only earning a weak smile from you.

"Sounds good."

Jalen immediately knew something wasn't right. "You okay?"

This was your chance. You could tell him exactly how you felt. The words were on the tip of your tongue, daring to be spoken. You knew he would understand and never say or do anything to dismiss your concerns, but still it felt futile. "I'm fine, just tired." It just didn't feel right. You'd be forcing him just because you couldn't wait. It wasn't fair to him, and it wasn't fair to you.

Out of nowhere it popped into your head. A silly TikTok trend that you'd seen over and over. Wives and girlfriends would try "the orange peel theory" on their significant others, to see if they would peel their orange without having to ask. If they did, it was a sign of their love for you. You felt ridiculous for reducing your relationship to a social media craze, but you were very curious.

You made a show out of struggling to peel your orange, your nail scraping over the flesh repeatedly. Jalen noticed out of the corner of his eye, flexing his jaw. "My grandma has some baby pictures she wanted to show you. I asked her not to show you the ones where I was missing a tooth from playing pee wee football." You giggled at the memory, continuing to pick away at the rind. "I bet you were a cute baby."

"I don't know about that." Jalen chuckled, his eyes still on your hands. "I had a weird haircut and I was short until my freshman year." He grabbed the orange out of your hand, and bit into the skin to start off, peeling the fruit with ease. You smiled as he made light work of it, stealing a segment before handing it back to you. "My grandma has a bunch of my baby stuff here, said we can use it for our own kids if we want to." Your breath hitched in your chest, a rush of excitement coming over you.

"What?", he asked when he noticed the wide grin on your face as you looked at him with such love and adoration. Not only had he passed the orange peel theory test with flying colors, he had put thought into your future. "You passed the test."

"What test?" Jalen looked confused, so you explained the test to him, Jalen letting out a deep chuckle as you finished.

"You thought I don't think about our future?" Jalen knitted his brow together as he looked at you. "Not that you don't, but sometimes I'm just not sure what the next couple of years are going to look like for us, and I get nervous."

Jalen pulled you in tighter, and you rested your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your cheek. "Baby, sometimes I don't know what the next week is going to look like. There are just so many people telling me what to do, how fast to go, how I should play, and criticizing me at every turn, I don't want that in our relationship. I just feel like if we move too fast, I'll make a mistake, and that's the last thing I want with you. I'm trying to protect the best thing I have in my life. That doesn't mean for a second that I don't want a future with you. I just wanna take it one step at a time, okay?"

"Okay." You rubbed his chest, leaning in for a gentle kiss, your noses grazing against one another as you pulled away. You didn't necessarily know what the next couple of years were going to hold for you, but you had no doubt that Jalen would be by your side the whole time, and that was enough reassurance for you. "Baby pictures, huh?"

"Tryna see what those future babies will look like, huh?" Jalen asked in jest. "Maybe", you replied, playing coy. Jalen chuckled, helping you stand up before he got to his feet, leading you back inside.

#jalen hurts #jalenhurts #jalen hurts imagine #jalen hurts fan fiction #jalen hurts fanfiction #nfl fan fic #nfl imagine #nfl fanfic #nfl fanfiction

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dwonfilm · 10 days

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Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 (verging on 6 now) would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcoholism, violence, sadness.

Mentions: Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Bobby Singer, Crowley, other made-up characters to further the plot.

Here’s Part IV if you haven’t read.

Flashbacks are in bold.

Part V:

It had been about a year since Lucifer had ruined Dean’s life. At least.. he thought it was a year. Honestly? He’d given up trying to keep track of time after a month. Frankly if Sam wasn’t keeping the tally on where or when or how.. Dean had no clue. Well.. that wasn’t the entire truth. There was one thing that he could keep track of and that was the alcohol cabinet. It ran out far more often over the course of the last year than it ever had. Sam tried, several times in fact, to get his brother to sober up. Every couple months like clockwork the younger Winchester would try to pick up more pieces of his older brother’s life. Today had just so happened to coincide with that schedule. Sam sighed, walking into the dank motel room that the brothers had been sharing for a few days. They’d been in Phoenix for a couple of days and once this case had come up, Sam knew it was gonna be hard. [Y/N] was from Arizona and having to face this state without her would be hard for them, of course more so for Dean. “Did you bring more whiskey?” Dean’s words were slurring together slightly, but it wasn’t anything that Sam wasn’t used to—there was hardly a day that went by where his older brother wasn’t drinking himself to the point of blacking out.

“Dean, you can’t help me hunt this thing if you’re shitfaced.” Sam again sighed, because as much as he meant that, he knew better than to come back without the booze. He’d tried that a couple of times during the first few months of her absence. Once in New Orleans and the other in Houston. Both times had resulted in fists being thrown. Louisiana was the time where the punch connected, Dean nailing his baby brother square in the jaw—apologizing for it immediately after. Texas had him shoving Sam into the wall and holding him there before breaking down into a fit of tears. “Mhm, yeah, the hell I can’t.” Again Dean’s words slurred into one another and he pulled his hand over his face. “Sammy.. I can’t. I can’t be here knowing that she isn’t with us.. I can’t be here knowing that and be sober. I promise you I’ll lay off on it next case.. please. I can’t do it here.” Dean sighed, his voice raspy and raw with emotion. It was the most sober sentence that he’d uttered in a long time. Sam moved across the room to the bed that was his brother’s for the time being and sat on the edge. Next to it on the nightstand was an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. “Dean I know this is hard but..” he paused, not wanting to push his brother but this isn’t healthy and at this rate he was killing his liver and quick. “..this isn’t what [Y/N] would want for you, man. She-“ Dean’s gaze shot upward and the bloodshot nature of his eyes was made clear.

“Don’t. Don’t use her for your own personal gain here.” Again his words sloshed together and Sam just looked at him. “My personal gain? Dean the only thing I’m trying to gain here is my brother not killing himself by drowning in alcohol. She wouldn’t want you killing yourself and making yourself more vulnerable to the shit we hunt day in and day out. I know she was your girlfriend, I know she was the love of your life but she was like my sister and I loved her too.” For so long Sam had buried his own grief, his own guilt for letting [Y/N] make that call and letting her leave, his sadness about not only losing someone he cared deeply for but living every single day to watch his brother killing himself slowly. “I promised her I’d take care of you, Dean.” Sam’s voice was just barely above a whisper. He’d expected his older brother to yell, to shove him off of the bed where they sat, to have yet another heated argument with Dean. What Sam wasn’t expecting however was the deep sigh and the shakiness of his brother’s voice when he did speak. “I know.. I’m sorry Sammy.” Dean’s voice was small, it was clear that they both had used the little bit of silence to begin crying. Another silence washed over the two brothers and it stayed like that for a number of minutes.

“I’m worried about you, Dean. I don’t say these things to make you feel shitty man, I just know she wouldn’t want this for you and I don’t want it either. Cas is working a lead that may be able to help us with getting her back, but right now we need to help these families. I’ve been going over some of these details in my head and I think it might be a witch.” Sam explained, but this only had Dean’s irritation return. “Great. We just had to come to Arizona and it just had to be a witch. Someone up there’s got a real sick sense of humor!” He shouted, looking up knowing that if the angels were still tuned in, they’d have heard him. Sam couldn’t help but sigh softly, it really seemed like the world was stacking the deck. However that was nothing new. “It’s late man, try to get some sleep. I’m gonna look some more and see if there’s something I missed—hell maybe I’m wrong.” It wasn’t likely that he was and both of them knew that. “Yeah, alright.” Sam stood up from the bed and moved over to the little table in the corner of the room. Dean reached into his bag, grabbing the same flannel he’d taken everywhere else. When it started to lose the smell of her, he’d spray it with her perfume. He’d just done so last week, so the smell was strong. Laying it between his arms he would slowly sink down to a laying position. Resting his head on part of the fabric and letting the exhaustion and drunkenness take him to sleep.

It was summer, they’d had a surprisingly quiet week. Sam was at Stanford and so the only person that Dean had except for his dad was [Y/N]. They were laid on Baby’s hood, the night slowly enveloping the daytime sky. It was a good week too, they hadn’t really fought much. Right now they’re just enjoying each other’s company and gazing up at the stars. “I think it’s so funny, we’re so small physically in the world and yet we alter it for the better almost every single day.” [Y/N] spoke softly, her [Y/E/C] eyes fixated upon the sunset overhead. Dean turned on his side to face her with a smirk upon his features. “Sweetheart we both know there’s nothing ‘little’ about me.” Dean replied, winking quickly at her. He was met with a smack to the shoulder while she chuckled softly. “Not what I meant, idiot.” She replied, turning her head to face him. Dean’s expression feigned hurt but he was smiling through the mock ‘offence’. His green eyes flicked upward for a moment to watch the sky darken. “I know, sometimes it feels like we should be welcomed into these towns with a party.” He spoke, sighing softly. “You mean like a hero’s welcome?” [Y/N] asked. Dean simply nodded. “I mean.. we probably should. If even half of the world knew what was really out there.. this entire planet would freak. People like us have been.. we’ve had our whole lives taken from us in a sense and yet we just.. keep going.” Now Dean turned his attention back to [Y/N]. “You mean to tell me you’d wanna be normal?” He asked, quirking his brow. She sighed before looking back up to the sky. “I don’t know.. I was never given the chance to know what normal looked like—this is all I’ve ever known.”

Things got quiet for a little while but Dean’s eyes kept finding their way over to [Y/N]. “If you have a question, you can just ask.” She spoke softly, not moving her gaze from the stars that were now making their appearance in the sky. He never knew how she did that—just knew what he was thinking in a way that wasn’t invasive or supernatural. She just.. knew him. “Did you.. did you think about hanging it up before you met me? After.. your dad?” Dean’s tone was soft, he didn’t bring up [Y/N]’s father much because it was obviously a sensitive subject. She released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and slowly looked over to meet his gaze. “Did the thought cross my mind? Sure. I was younger, you know probably could’ve scammed my way into some college.” She sighed. “I also was distraught and sad and not thinking with much clarity. By the time you and your dad showed up, I was already convincing myself to look for work. Maybe fate brought you to me.” [Y/N] smiled as she reached over towards Dean, her hand gently cupping his face. She knew he was in his head too much, probably trying to blame himself for keeping her from a ‘normal’ life. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Dean had woken up as her lips touched his, that was a memory that he’d forgotten he had. Sighing, he squeezed his eyes closed to get rid of the tears he knew had built up quickly. Rolling over he looked at the clock. 7:45AM. Turning around he saw that at some point Sam had gone to bed. There was no way he was going back to sleep now nor did he want to, so he opted to take a shower. There was the beginnings of a headache coming on, because for the first time in.. god knows how long he’d actually taken a break in drinking alcohol. Time had gotten away from him until he heard knocking on the bathroom door. “Hey man, leave some hot water for me.” Sam spoke before walking back to the table to get back to work. After a couple minutes Dean emerged from the bathroom and took a glance at the clock. 8:45AM. He turned towards his younger brother to see him eating, a breakfast burrito on the opposite side of the table for him. “Thanks.” He spoke up before sitting in the other chair and unwrapping the food. “No problem.” He responded before taking a bite of his own food, immediately after leaning closer to his screen. “So, unfortunately, I was right. This is definitely a witch.” Sam said, using his touchpad to scroll further down on whatever he was reading. Dean groaned before taking his first bite of the burrito. While he ate, Sam went over the details of the case and where they’d have to go in order to get more answers.

They’d found the witch, who was killing people for their hearts—collecting them to use in some kind of dark spell to grant her and her coven immortality and power. Sam and Dean had located her home after noticing a pattern with where the bodies had been found by police. This house had a storm cellar and it was likely that she was taking her victims down there to extract their hearts. Despite keeping quiet, somehow the witch had been alerted to their presence. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I should’ve known you’d be on my trail.” She spoke, turning away from the woman who she’d kidnapped. “Yeah well, if you know who we are you should know this little killing spree you’re on is finished.” Dean spoke, his gun aimed at the witch. Sam had his gun aimed too and the witch turned fully to face the brothers. “Is that so?” She asked, an eery smile upon her lips. “We can spare the song and dance cause no one’s interested.” Dean spoke up again. It was clear that his nerves were at the end of their rope. Sam didn’t necessarily disagree with his brother but the tension was getting worse. “I mean, we could.. but then I couldn’t mention the fact that I have very powerful friends.” She continued. “Why would we care who your friends are?” Sam asked, confused that this was the plan to try and get them to spare her life. “I have a spell for immortality and power growth, doesn’t that make you think about what other powerful spells my coven possesses? Ones that could maybe, free trapped people?” She continued and suddenly it clicked in Sam’s brain. “Don’t.” He warned the witch.

Dean quirked a brow but didn’t turn or move, keeping his eyes and his aim on the witch. “What? You don’t want to help your brother?” She asked, the younger Winchester getting increasingly irritated. “What are you talking about?” Dean asked, which caused Sam to groan. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. “People talk, people whisper. I’ve heard all sorts of things about you two—two who used to be three.” Dean’s stomach twisted in knots. It was clear what she’d been hinting at now and it left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. Sam’s protective instincts took over and he pushed his way in front of his brother. “That’s enough.” Sam warned, his nerves being pushed. However this witch knew that she was in a matter of living or dying and wasn’t going to give up so easy. “What? Hey, if you want to leave her suffer in the pits of hell.. that’s cold but I support it.” Dean winced at this statement. He spent so many nights restless, wondering what kinds of torture Lucifer was making [Y/N] endure—knowing full well that he loved the emotional side of things almost as much as the physical. “I said that’s enough.” Sam repeated, knowing that despite his older brother having a hatred for witches, he’d very likely do anything to free [Y/N]. “You think I’m just trying to keep myself alive, but like I said I know lots of powerful witches. There’s a spell out there that can help. You just have to come back with me. I help you, you help me. We’ll get [Y/N] and—“ Suddenly the witch dropped to the ground, dead. Sam had heard enough and once her name was spoken it was the final straw. Dean moved to free the girl who had almost been another victim, getting her out of there.

Six months later.

Fort Wayne, Indiana—the boys had just finished a hunt. Vamps nest was completely wiped out. After cleaning up, Sam basically forced Dean to go to the local bar. Not because he wanted anything from his brother but he knew that today marked a year and a half since [Y/N] was forced to go to hell alongside Lucifer. Staying in the motel room would only mean that Dean would get too in his head. Sam was hoping that the music and the pool alongside a bit of alcohol would be enough to keep his mind at bay, at least for a little while. Dean sat in a booth sipping his beer while Sam had gone for refills. There was a blonde who’d been eyeing Dean every so often, clearly interested in something. Seeing that he was alone she figured it was the best time to approach him. Confidently she walked over to the table, swaying her hips just a bit with each step. Once she reached the booth she paused, seeing if Dean would react in any way to her presence. About a minute went by and he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even turned his head to look in her direction. She cleared her throat which broke Dean from his daze. “Can I help you?” He asked flatly, looking up at the woman for a brief few seconds before gazing forward again. “I was just wondering if I could join you, you seem lonely over here.” She tucked some of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I’ll pass.” He stated plainly, hoping that Sam would be back any moment. It was clear her confidence took a blow but she was trying to remain determined. “C’mon.. I’ll get you a refill. What would it hurt to get to know one another?” She continued and it looked like Dean was about to snap but Sam finally approached the booth. “My brother said no, so, go back to whatever you were doing.”

Scoffing the blonde turned on her heel and walked back to her table and friends. Sam slid the fresh beer over towards his brother and sighed before sitting down. “Sorry, I never thought about that.” He spoke up, lifting the glass bottle to his lips. “About what?” Dean asked, but then he clued in. “It’s fine. I never thought about the possibility either. Usually..” Now it was the older brother’s turn to sigh. Usually [Y/N] would either scare the girls off altogether, making it obvious she and Dean were an item or she’d tell them off directly—hell she’d even fist fought a couple. Sam felt bad and in this moment was questioning whether dragging Dean out was doing more harm than good. He watched as the eldest of the two took a swig of the beer he’d been handed. Time ticked, a few minutes of silence between the brothers where the noises of the bar took hold. Suddenly Sam’s phone rang, so he flipped it open to answer the call. “Hey Bobby, what’s up?” He spoke, Dean’s mind having him only paying half attention. It had been several minutes since his brother spoke and that finally had Dean’s full attention. “What is it?” He asked, the expression on his younger brother’s face unreadable. “Yeah that was Dean, he’s with me.” Sam replied, to Bobby, with Dean leaning forward to attempt to hear whatever the conversation was about but he the table stopped him from getting too close. “Sam.” Dean said sternly, trying to get the information. He held up one finger to try and get his brother to wait. “Yeah, alright. We’ll be on our way. Bye.” Sam closed his phone and looked at his brother but the expression was still blank.

“Sam what’s going on?” Dean’s tone laced with worry, confusion and a couple other emotions. “We need to go to Bobby’s—now.” He replied before standing up and beginning to walk towards the door. Blinking a bit, the older of the two was still in a sort of a daze. “Dean! Come on!” Sam called out, which had his brother sliding out the booth and quickly catching up to his younger brother. They walked to the impala and Sam got in the driver’s side, leaving Dean to get into the passenger seat. Flicking his wrist now, Baby’s engine purred to life and the younger Winchester pulled out of the parking space and onto the road. First they had to stop at the motel to grab their stuff and check out. Sam took the duty of loading up their things while he gave Dean the key to return to the office. He’d ran the key back and thanked them for the room before returning to Sam who was just closing the trunk. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked, resting his forearms on Baby’s roof. Sam was double checking that he had everything before closing the door to the room. “Sam!” He exclaimed, causing the taller of them to turn towards his brother. “What Dean?!” His mind had been racing ever since he hung up from the call with Bobby. “Are you gonna clue me in? Why do we need to rush to Bobby’s?” Sam knew his brother was right to ask, it wasn’t like him to keep things from his older brother but it wasn’t his call—he also wasn’t sure on things. Hell Bobby wasn’t sure either. “I.. I’m not sure if it’s something and Bobby asked me to just get there, with you, as fast as we can.” He explained, fidgeting with the keys to the impala in his hand.

Dean was confused, searching his younger brother’s eyes for any kind of hint as to what was so important. He wanted to argue, wanted to push for more information but at the end of the day he trusted Bobby. “Okay.” He said, pulling on the handle and getting into the passenger seat. “Okay.” Sam mirrored, slipping into the drivers side yet again and backing out from the motel and taking off down the road. Sioux Falls was their destination and if they could make it without any stops that would be best. Dean’s mind was racing—it could be so many different things. They had so much going on that it was hard to pinpoint what issue Bobby had cracked or what he was getting close to cracking. Man their lives were a mess, a chaotic and insane mess that most humans would never be able to grasp. Sam had a firm grip on the wheel as he drove, which he’d been doing most of the time over the last year and a half. Often times Dean had too much whiskey in his system and honestly, his older brother wasn’t putting up much of a fight about it. When it came time to drive to a different state, Dean was close to the point of blacking out anyway. Most drives during this time was Sam being alone with his thoughts while Dean passed out and slept. Slept until a nightmare woke him up, or sometimes worse, a dream that felt so real that Dean forgot [Y/N] was gone. Those hit him the hardest, the realization that she was in hell along with the sobriety like an 18 wheeler running him down. Nightmares were a toss up. It was either stress and trauma from his own time in hell or it was imagining what kind of suffering that [Y/N] was being forced to endure. Sam wished he could do more, but all he could do was offer moral support and watch.

It was almost two days later by the time that Sam and Dean were pulling into Bobby’s yard. Neither of the brothers could pinpoint where it came from, or when, but their anxiety was piqued. Neither of them really knew what they were walking into but both of them basically sprinted up the steps and knocked once before walking into the house. “Hello boys.” Sam and Dean both wide eyed when they saw Crowley sitting in the living room. “W-what are you doing here?” Sam asked, Dean wasting no time and drawing his gun. “Where’s Bobby?” Dean demanded, but his question was answered immediately after when the older man walked in with a couple of books. “Dammit, boy. Put that thing away.” Bobby spoke to Dean, which had a look of confusion cross the eldest Winchester’s face. “What?” He asked, looking at Singer. “Put the goddamn gun away if you wanna get down to it. We don’t got much time.” Bobby replied, flipping through the pages of one of the books he’d brought in. “What does Crowley have to do with things?” Sam asked, to which the King of Hell laughed. His gaze shifting between both of the brothers before speaking. “Well I’m here to help you lot bust [Y/N] out of Hell.”

Author’s note: Hi! Sorry if the chapters are getting shorter, I can’t tell, but I feel like the story is still being told sufficiently. I still haven’t decided how many parts this will be but I know for the most part where I’m taking it but just wanted to add that in—I feel like the first couple chapters were longer. I guess the lengths just vary with what I’m trying to convey. Hope you guys enjoy! 😊

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester ✤ ٠ —– • ·

#dean winchester #dean x reader #fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester imagines #spn #spn imagines #dean winchester x reader #fanfics

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pwlanier · 6 months

Text

Artist-Designed Billboards Responding to the Mass Incarceration Crisis to Debut in Houston this Month

by Jessica Fuentes November 2, 2023

Art at a Time Like This (ATLT), a nonprofit supporting the presentation of art in response to current events, will debut a series of artist-designed billboards responding to the mass incarceration crisis on Saturday, November 4 in Houston.

Earlier this fall, ATLT, in partnership with SaveArtSpace, a Brooklyn-based nonprofit that brings art to nontraditional spaces using billboards, launched an open call for Houston-area artists to design these billboards. The Houston-based project is an expansion of 8X5, an initiative initially launched in Miami last summer, curated by ATLT co-founders Barbara Pollack and Anne Verhallen, and featuring works by Faylita Hicks, the Guerrilla Girls, Shephard Fairey, Sam Durant, Sherrill Roland, and Trenton Doyle Hancock.

We hope the following statistics will inform you:

● The United States has the highest incarceration rate in the world

● While the United States represents about 4.2 percent of the world's population, it houses approximately 20 percent of the world's prisoners.

● Between 1980 and 2022, the number of people incarcerated increased from roughly 500,000 to 2.3 million.

● Black people are incarcerated at more than 5 times the rate of whites.

● Spending on prisons and jails has increased at triple the rate of spending on Pre‐K‐12 public education in the last thirty years.

And in Texas:

133,800 people are behind bars, the largest prison population in the U.S.

Each year, at least 505,000 people are booked into local jails in Texas.

Harris County (Houston) jail holds approximately 8,000 people on any given day, the majority of whom are legally innocent, awaiting trial

Texas’s 242 county jails are already increasingly overcrowded, with more than 70,000 inmates. According to state data, there is a corresponding rise in jail deaths, suicides, use of force incidents and assaults.

Texas has 196 individuals on Death Row

Texas has the highest number of detained immigrants in the U.S.

Glasstire

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siriusleee · 7 months

Text

hold on tighter

Rodolfo Para x f!reader For @glitterypirateduck's Fall4Rudy challenge. Prompt: I'd hold on to something if I were you A/N: I got started a day late to the party, so I'm trying to keep everything rolling. Make sure you check out everyone's submissions for Fall4Rudy here. To see others in this series, you can find them at my masterlist here. If you like what I write, consider donating to my ko-fi. It helps keep me from starving on these teacher wages. Edit: I totally forgot to say it, but the 'Troopers can speak Arabic' line is weirdly true. I went to Sam Houston in Texas, where a ton of law enforcement goes to college. And a weird amount of guys going to be state troopers take Arabic (or they did when I went to college there) because they want to work in intelligence, but end up staying at the state level..

The throbbing in your head intensifies with each bump of the ATV beneath you. Four weeks spent tracking a drug smuggling ring with ties to AQ and all you have to show for it is a set of stitches on your hairline and a blossoming bruise on your tailbone from the metal rack you’ve been forced to sit on. You know Rudy’s done his best to avoid the largest ruts in the ground, but it still doesn’t lessen the pounding in your head.

“Why couldn’t I have gotten my own ride?” You grumble behind Rudy, trying to ignore the way you’re forced to be pressed up against him. You’d refused to wrap your hands around his waist, instead opting to keep a death grip on the back rack.

“More vehicles means more chance of us being spotted,” Rudy explains over the roar of the engine. “Besides, I’ve experienced your driving. You nearly flipped the truck.”

“I did not! And I grew up here Rodolfo - driving ATVs all over the place thank you. And I’ll have you know I only flipped them twice.”

Rudy’s barking laugh nearly drowns out the ATV. You should be thankful they even let you come anyway. There was a good chance they’d need someone to translate if there were any AQ members, but they could have chosen anyone else from the CIA team stationed in Texas to accompany them today. Hell, half the State Troopers Texas had sent to help knew the basics of Arabic somehow. They would have been enough until anyone could be reprimanded into custody.

But Rudy had been outside your hotel room bright and early, a heavy SUV waiting in the parking lot, with a heavy request to get dressed quickly.

The terrain stretches out in front of you two - in the distance you can make out the other ATVs. Mexican intelligence had found a tunnel ending in Texas that had seemed promising to your team's joint investigation - today was the perfect day to investigate. The plan was simple: pose as a group of geologists come to study the natural rock formations, and blow a section of the tunnel, crippling movement back and forth.

But the ache in your head, and the feeling of sleeping on a shitty hotel mattress is ringing in your bones, and a thick feeling of something wrong is rolling around inside of you. You don’t want to voice your worries to anyone, to jinx the operation; you wonder though, if Rudy can feel your apprehension when he taps the brakes enough to slide you forward so that you're forced to wrap one hand around his waist, the other bracing beside you.

“I’d hold on tighter, señorita; it gets rough ahead.”

You swallow the heat that grows in your chest at the feeling of his voice rumbling through you, the hand around his waist wrapping around the leather belt.

#my fics #fall4rudy #rodolfo parra #rodolfo cod #rudy parra #rudy parra x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod rudy #rodolfo rudy parra #rudy cod #rudy x reader #cod rodolfo #rodolfo x reader

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bcacstuff · 9 months

Note

Good morning Bcacstuff, first I want to say that I love your blog because it is factual and honest. You share your opinions without being ugly. I saw my pictures on your post last night responding to the anon that stated Sam smiles more with thin blondes than others. I’m not sure how I feel about being an example of a big fat middles aged woman that Sam may or may not have smiled with. Looks kind of in between to me like an I am exhausted smile can’t wait until Austin is done. I shared on Twitter because there are other fans that mutually follow and we are social media “friends”. While I didn’t see any overly negative comments on your blog, I feel open the ridicule because people on Tumbler tend to be more negatively vocal about Sam’s fans. I’m not a shipper or a mommy or someone that follows him around the globe at no expense. I’m just a girl that lives near Dallas that had the opportunity to see him for the cost of gas, a hotel room for the night and a bottle of gin. The little statue by the way is from the Thistle and Roses chess set mad by Beneagles whisky out of Scotland back in the 1970s. That piece is Robert the Bruce. More than likely, it will end up in the trash somewhere but for my part as the giver, I put thought and heart into it. I think I would prefer that you take my picture off your blog. I know that I look a ridiculous sight and would be very hurt to read judgmental comments. Thank you.

Hi, @weebuddycat I want to thank you for your message here and perhaps try to set some things straight. Thank you for the appreciation for my blog. I always try to be as honest and factual as I can, and be clear about where it concerns speculations. I receive a lot of Anons, I can't even post a good amount of them, and don't even want to post a good number either. I do not necessarily agree with the ones I post and sometimes even flat out disagree. I try to keep my wording as respectful as I can, or just stay in the neutral. I keep an eye on the comments, as I do want my commenters to stay respectful as well, towards each other, towards people in the pics I post, and towards myself as well. On some very incidental occasions I might contact the commenter in private and have a small discussion about a comment.

I went back to see, as I was fairly sure I didn't put your picture in the post where this Anon thought he smiled more with skinny blonde fans. I purposely searched out 2 pics from the latest events (one from Houston, one from Chicago) for that post where there was no fan in it and one where there were more people around him. As I didn't even want to put anybody as an 'example' on that post.

To me, and I truly am honest about that, it was in no relation with your picture that I posted in another post with a number of others. I actually hope you would agree to just leave it there, as I think you can and should be proud of it. And anybody with half a brain can imagine standing in line for a long time while it is hot and humid, nobody really would look at their best. Together with that, I say, don't we all look at our own pictures and think ugh.. I wish I had... or something similar. Anyway, to me you look perfectly fine and happy meeting him and gifting the little statue. As do all others.

Yes, someone asked in the comments what that was. And now that you've told us what it actually was (thank you), I think my reply was quite close. I looked at it, and just thought it looked a bit like a knight, and a chess piece and had some association with the chess scenes in Harry Potter. That wasn't meant rude in any way, as well as ending up on his book case shelf, as we've seen a number of times in his home videos that he puts some of the stuff he gets there. Not really sarcasm, if there was any sarcasm in it, it's for what he puts there on the shelf to show when he does these home videos.

Finally, I just want to point out that in the comments of the Anon about him smiling more (or less for that matter). I didn't agree, and I don't think anybody in the comments agreed on it. He's just doing his job, smiling for the picture with the fan. And that's all there is to it.

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mapsontheweb · 2 years

Photo

Map of Mexico prior to Texas independence, 1835.

The tensions in Texas reached a tipping point when General Antonio López de Santa Anna took office as president of Mexico in 1834. Soon after coming to power, he revoked the constitution, set about centralizing governmental authority in Mexico City, and reduced the autonomy of the individual states.

This caused a great deal of unrest in some of the territories. In September of 1835, Texans began a war of secession. In November, a group met in San Felipe de Austin and established a provisional state government .

After months of fighting with Santa Anna’s army, on March 2 of 1836, Texas declared its independence from Mexico . For several weeks, Mexican army forces fought the insurgents, including at the famous battle of the Alamo, where Santa Anna’s troops defeated a group of Texas fighters holed up in the old mission. Despite this iconic loss, Sam Houston’s Texas army ultimately emerged victorious.

On April 21, Gen. Santa Anna, now captured, signed the Treaty of Velasco, recognizing Texas’ independence. Santa Anna’s capitulation was not the final word, though. The Mexican Congress refused to ratify the treaty, since the general was a prisoner of war when he signed it. The United States, however, recognized Texas as an independent republic on March 3, 1837.

Although Mexico would not recognize an independent Texas, struggles within the country and lack of money prevented it from doing anything to retake it. In the meantime, the U.S. aspired to control the north American continent, and to keep out rivals like France and Great Britain.

Full article >>

#maps #mexico #texas #1835

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