#ohio state english

[esmedelacroix]

01 - Details

synopsis ! he’s an American football player by day and a passionate mathematician by night. She’s a well-rounded historian and writer who couldn’t evaluate a derivative to save her life. They lived in two different worlds but shared the same study room.

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cw ! no use of y/n, y/n is _____, fluff, slow burn, college au, ooc sukuna, f!reader, child abuse/neglect, alcohol abuse, suggestive

fic radio ! Crybaby by SZA

Ohio State University, Autumn of Senior Year

To say that you didn't change would be an understatement. You felt too much guilt when you got to school. So at college, you were the same straight-A, (seemingly)perfect girl. You were the complete opposite of the people in your friend group. Then again, Shoko and Satoru were business majors; what were they doing in class anyway?

Suguru was the only one who shared your struggles to an extent as a philosophy major. Even so, he didn't care about his grades as much as you did yours. During your entire college experience, you didn't go to a single party. It was always extra studying for you. But you weren't a complete troglodyte. You went out to eat with your friends—occasionally.

They also had a habit of breaking into your dorm and closing your books and laptop, forcing the hangouts. You couldn't risk that happening because you were preparing to wow your professors with your knowledge as an Ancient History and Classics major. Being your extra self, you also double majored in English and already wanted to get a head start on your writing assignments.

You went where you knew they couldn't find you. The library at the least popular end of campus was where all the try-hards, like yourself, studied. The library was busy, of course, and there was one more study room left, so you signed your name in the time slot and snagged the last room. You had documents strewn on the table with your laptop open, playing the classical piece you needed to analyze on repeat.

After about 30 minutes of complete peace and productivity. You turned your head towards the clear glass of the study room to see a scary man standing at the door. Just staring. At you.

That man was Ryomen Sukuna. The charismatic campus heartthrob and stereotypical quarterback of the football. He was also the school's resident airhead along with his partner in crime, Toji Fushiguro. You had heard rumors about the numerous women seen leaving his room and the alleged Eiffel Towers he partook in with Toji. It didn't help that he was in the same frat as Satoru. The sole reason why you never visited him and Suguru. But what the hell was he doing here?

You look around warily before getting up and opening the door. “Um . . . Can I help you?” you questioned.

“Let’s share this room.”

“I have it signed out for this time though. I wrote my name on the sign-up sheet,” you reasoned.

“Doesn’t matter. The librarians like me so they won’t mind and I see you’re not using your whiteboard. ‘S all I need,” he sighed rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.

“Okay,” you hesitatantly agreed, stepping aside for him to walk in.

You stayed silent as you felt him tower over you. He barely squeezed past the small space you left him to enter. The smell he left was a combination of musk, oud, cedar, and amber. He smelled like a warm home with a cozy fire crackling. As much as you hated to admit it, just like every other girl on earth, you were weak for Ryomen Sukuna. The way his pecs and muscular back poked out of his shirt like mountains emerging from the fog had you aching for him in a way that made you feel ashamed.

His light pink tufts of hair looked so soft and his jaw oh so sharp. You could see a plethora of tattoos adorning his arms. Your eyes followed them as they led into his shirt. Part of you wondered just how much of his body was tatted.

If you squinted you could see his abs peek through the fabric of his white t-shirt. He was so much taller and bigger than you. You felt dominated and you hadn’t even exchanged many words.

You watched the muscles in his forearms flex as he uncapped the pink marker you had on the table and jotted down problems.

You then realized that you hadn't moved from where you were before because you were staring. Pulling yourself from his trance, you closed that door and took your seat. You'd occasionally look up from the fifteen-page essay you were writing and see that Sukuna had written the most complicated math problem you had ever seen in small-print, neat handwriting. The way he handled and solved the problem was so organized you almost felt like you understood it.

You looked down at your hand written notes and annotation riddled documents. Your fatal flaw was your illegible handwriting. It was practically hieroglyphics to everyone but you.

After twenty minutes, Sukuna finished his problem that practically covered the whole board and took a brain break sitting across from you. "What's with the music?" he asked.

"I'm analyzing it for a class. Not a fan?" you replied, eyes still glued to your laptop as you typed.

"No, I like Hymn to Vena. It's one of Gustav Holst's best pieces," he admitted.

"You know classical music?" you questioned in shock finally looking up at him. You met his piercing wine-colored eyes.

"Well I'm not completely braindead yet," he shrugged.

"I didn't know you were so historically seasoned and . . . mathematically inclined," you admitted, gesturing towards the solved complex equation on the board.

"Ah, that's nothing. I'm actually in your Intro to Classical Music class so I’m doing the same paper.”

"Wait. Really?"

"Yeah, I just sit in the back and you sit in the front," he smirked.

"First of all, there is nothing wrong with sitting in the front. Secondly, I had no idea you were in my class. I'm the worst," you smiled apologetically.

"You're good. I can't write for shit so I haven't even started the paper," Sukuna admitted leaning back in his chair and resting his large hands behind his head.

"It's due next week, Sukuna!" you exclaimed in disbelief. He noted the way your nose wrinkled when you cringed. And the way you looked away when you tried not to laugh at his jokes.

"It's no biggie. I'll just pay a writing tutor to do it for me," he said, getting up and grabbing a teal EXPO marker from your pencil pouch. This guy is too comfortable.

"I'm a writing tutor," you revealed with an unimpressed look.

"Well, then you just made my life a whole lot easier. Can you write my essay about Pas de Deux for me?" he questioned.

"No, Sukuna! I'm not writing your essay for you. You didn't even say please. I could tutor you but that's about it," you offered.

"C'mon let's work something out here," he bargained.

"What could you possibly offer me?" you quite condescendingly challenged.

"Well, I know that the only class you're not the top in is our Advanced Multi-variable Calculus class," he smugly stated.

"And how would you know that smarty-pants?” you retorted. Our? He's in that class too?

"'Cause I am, you ding-dong," he chuckled. Ryomen Sukuna is at the top of our math class? I thought people were lying when they said he was a math major!

"Okay so you want us to tutor each other?" you questioned.

"I was thinking more of a 'do each other's work' arrangement," Sukuna reasoned, he had a stupid smirk plastered on his stupid perfect lips. He quirked one of his beautiful perfect brows. It had a scar across it that you found very attractive for whatever reason. He's totally putting the moves on me, you thought.

"No."

"Okay, how about I teach you the math, you write my essay?"

"No."

"Okay . . . You just write my essay and I do your math work and get you into the Pi Kappa Alpha[fraternity name] parties? Final offer," he proposed.

"I think you're mistaken, Sukuna. I do not go to parties. I do not break the academic integrity rules put in place by the university, and I would much rather get 70s on my math tests than ever get my work done by someone else," you snapped. He didn't want to admit it, but he was impressed by your ability to talk back to him. He had never been told off like that.

"Oh, fine. We can tutor each other," he sighed rolling his eyes.

"Good," you smiled. He shook his head in disbelief and wrote down an even more complex problem on the board and began solving it occasionally grumbling under his breath when the two of you met eyes. He wasn't actually annoyed. In fact, he was intrigued. He had waited this long to interact with you and now he didn't want to stop.

"You're a real piece of work _____," he teased, as the time slot for the room finally ran out.

"Am I Sukuna? Or am I just the first woman to say no to you?" you quipped.

He smiled and shrugged, "Somethin' like that." You hated to admit it but, he had a really cute smile. His resting face made him look like he could kill everything in sight. His smile softened his facial features. It wasn't that fake cocky smile he put on to seem hot or be a tease. It was a real genuine smile. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Ugh, why do I need to be like all the other girls that pine for him?

The two of you left the room after packing all your stuff. You gave Sukuna your number and email on a sticky note. "Text me when you want to study again. Sorry about my handwriting by the way," you apologized sheepishly.

"What do you mean? I can read it just fine," he questioned.

Wow, he might be the only one on the planet, you thought as the two of you left the library side by side.

"You don't need to lie, Sukuna," you joked.

"Just Ryo is fine," he corrected.

"Okay Ryomen," you smiled.

He rolled his eyes playfully at you saying his full name instead. Internally he knew: he liked the way you disobeyed him. He found the way you smiled to yourself trying not to laugh after making a joke cute.

It was all in the details. The way you sat in the front of the class every day with a notebook out. The way you impressively scribbled notes while still looking at the board.

He memorized the way you chewed on your pen and bounced your leg whenever you did an exam. The way you always participated. Staying after to help the professor clean up. Going to office hours. You were friendly and bantering with all your teachers. But somehow in an effortless charismatic way and not a ‘pick me’ way.

You didn't know, but he stared holes into your back in every single class. He was amused just staring at your back. Though he knew you wouldn't be there he looked for you in the large sea of people in the stadium. He watched you succeed and rise to the challenge. Listening in on your musical analysis in class he was mesmerized. He just wanted to wander through your mind. Maybe then he could be just as great as you.

In his short interaction with you, he made a realization. You weren't the preppy, bubbly, sweet girl he made you up to be in his mind. You were kind of a bitch. In the hottest way possible. That made you all the better. He needed more and more of you.

. . .

-> next part

@minasuniverse @not-a-glad-gladiator @love-me-satoru @sukunawhores @emoedgylord @domainofmarie @sadrna @lazylunarlover @tamishadawn @boudoirbae @river-vixenn @bitchyfestivalbouquet @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @clp-84 @emochosoluvr @yoongithebean @linaaeatsfamilies @magalimachete @chubbydumplingbarnes @katsukiseyebrows

comment to be added to the taglist !

[dailyhistoryposts]

The Wright Sister: Katharine Wright Haskell

Katharine Wright Haskell (1874-1929), younger sister to aviation pioneers Wilbur and Orville Wright.

Haskell attended Oberlin College, one of the few coeducation institutions, and was the only Wright sibling to earn a college degree. She cared deeply about being financially independent and worked as a Latin and English teacher. Seeing her pay and assignments worse than her male peers inspired a significant feminist value in her.

She was instrumental in the success of Wilbur and Orville's airplane--she took control of the bicycle shop, their finances, and management. She was one of the first women to go up in an airplane.

She travelled with her brothers to France, where she was considered more charming than her brothers and became an international celebrity. France honored her as an Officier de l'Instruction Publique, one of France's highest academic honors.

A determined suffragist, she led her family in marches and traveled to Columbus to lobby Ohio state legislatures, which in 1919 proved successful.

[odinsblog]

Funny how SCOTUS “originalists” ignore this history

Benjamin Franklin is revered in history for his fixation on inventing practical ways to make everyday life easier. He was a prolific inventor and author, and spent his life tinkering and writing to share his knowledge with the masses.

One of the more surprising areas Franklin wanted to demystify for the average American? At-home abortions.

Molly Farrell is an associate professor of English at the Ohio State University and studies early American literature. She authored a recent Slate article that suggests Franklin’s role in facilitating at-home abortions all started with a popular British math textbook.

Titled The Instructor and written by George Fisher, which Farrell said was a pseudonym, the textbook was a catch-all manual that included plenty of useful information for the average person. It had the alphabet, basic arithmetic, recipes, and farriery (which is hoof care for horses). At the time, books were very expensive, and a general manual like this one was a practical choice for many families.

Franklin saw the value of this book, and decided to create an updated version for residents of the U.S, telling readers his goal was to make the text “more immediately useful to Americans.” This included updating city names, adding Colonial history, and other minor tweaks.

But as Farrell describes, the most significant change in the book was swapping out a section that included a medical textbook from London, with a Virginia medical handbook from 1734 called Every Man His Own Doctor: The Poor Planter’s Physician.

This medical handbook provided home remedies for a variety of ailments, allowing people to handle their more minor illnesses at home, like a fever or gout. One entry, however, was “for the suppression of the courses”, which Farrell discovered meant a missed menstrual period.

“The book starts to prescribe basically all of the best-known herbal abortifacients and contraceptives that were circulating at the time,” Farrell said. “It's just sort of a greatest hits of what 18th-century herbalists would have given a woman who wanted to end a pregnancy early.”

“It's very explicit, very detailed, also very accurate for the time in terms of what was known ... for how to end a pregnancy pretty early on.”

Including this information in a widely circulated guide for everyday life bears a significance to today’s heated debate over access to abortion and contraception in the United States. In particular, the leaked Supreme Court opinion that would overturn Roe v. Wade and states that “a right to abortion is not deeply rooted in the nation's histories and traditions.”

Farrell said the book was immensely popular, and she did not find any evidence of objections to the inclusion of the section.

“It didn't really bother anybody that a typical instructional manual could include material like this,”she said. “It just wasn't something to be remarked upon. It was just a part of everyday life.”

(continue reading) more ←

[cillian-gets-me-wetter]

prologue- kiss it better (series)

warnings: implied smut (18+ only), mutual pining, sexual talk, cheating

disclaimer: i do not own people or teams mentioned in this story besides the original character(s). this is strictly for fictional purposes only.

a/n: did i get a little carried away with this? maybe. but did i enjoy writing it? absolutely

masterlist 🩰

word count: 912

erika and joe first met in 2018. he transferred to louisiana state from ohio state for a better chance to play football. he sat next to her in a lecture during english class, showing up a bit late after struggling to find his classes. as the school year progressed, they became good friends. they supported each other's goals and dreams. they remained friends after college. they moved to pursue different careers. whenever they would meet up again, it was as if time didn't exist. in 2022, a year into her relationship with nicholas, she felt a void. everything was great, but something was missing. she was in cincinnati, visiting joe and attending the bengals game against the rams.

september 2022

erika and joe sat on his couch, watching the hangover. they were catching up on their lives after his win earlier that night. he looked over and asked her, “so, how’s it going with you and nick?” she shrugged, taking a swig from her beer before answering, “i don't know. it’s been okay, i guess.” he eyed her with curiosity, noticing the conflicted look on her face. "okay?" she sighed, unsure how to describe how she feels about her relationship. “i mean, it’s going great; don’t get me wrong. but like there’s something missing." he chuckled with a gentle sound, “what? is the sex bad?" the question made her look away, telling him everything he needed to know. "damn... that bad, huh?”  

erika rolled her eyes at what he said, not outright denying anything. "joey... it’s not funny.” joe shook his head; he wanted to avoid hurting her feelings the most. "i never said it was.” she sighed, “i’m not saying that it’s bad sex. it’s decent, but after i feel so..." she met his gaze; he listened with focused attention as she searched for the right words. he broke the brief silence. he finished her sentence with one word: "unsatisfied." she nodded, biting her lip as guilt washed over her. he scooted closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. his expression softened, pulling her close against his body. "i’m sorry, bunny. i didn’t mean to make you feel upset or uncomfortable.”

she shook her head; her heart skipped a beat whenever he called her that since he gave her the nickname in college. "it’s okay; what you said didn’t upset me. i’m guilty of thinking that way, like i’m an awful person for viewing my own boyfriend in that kind of light.” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "hey, you aren’t a bad person for having that opinion. it’s how you feel; don’t downplay it. what makes you feel unsatisfied?” she gave him a small smile; he always knew how to make her feel better and at ease. she leaned into him more, resting her head against his shoulder. "like after we have sex, he always asks if i came, and of course, i say yes. but i actually didn't... or i question whether i did or not.”

he feels her body warmth as she leans against him, his heart beating out of his chest. "well, usually if you have to question it, it means you didn’t. he needs to get to know how your body works more, like what makes you tick, rather than focusing on his own pleasure.” she let out a short laugh; she wasn’t making fun of his response, but having something like that was out of her element. "yeah, i’ve never experienced that.” he looked at her in curiosity once more, wondering what she was implying. "what do you mean?” she shrugged, a bit self-conscious and embarrassed when she answered his question. "i’ve never had a guy make me cum before.” his eyes widened in disbelief as he did not expect that to be her answer. "oh shit. are you serious?”

she looked away, her face flushed. she felt embarrassed to have this conversation with her best friend. "yeah, it’s pretty embarrassing.” he shrugged, and while he understood why she felt embarrassed by it, he couldn’t help but want to help her out. "i get it. but if i’m being honest, i don’t find it embarrassing.” she met his gaze again, feeling a sense of relief. "you don’t? or are you saying that to make me feel better?” his hand moved down her body, giving her hip a gentle squeeze. “i don’t. in fact, your little confession makes me want to help you out.” her breath hitched in her throat when she felt his hand squeeze her hip, her hands falling into place on his chest. "you want to help me? how?"

his hand moved up to her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. “want me to show you?” a chill ran down her spine after he asked, and she nodded without saying anything. he leaned in, closing his eyes and capturing her lips in a slow, exploratory kiss. immediately kissing him back, her fingers ran through his hair, parting her lips for him. he slipped his tongue into her mouth, as she let it overpower hers. he guided her back onto the couch. then, he parted her legs to feel more comfortable against her. this broke the kiss. “is this okay?” she nodded, her hands trailing down his chest. “yes, joe... i’ve wanted you for so long.” he groaned at her confession, “fuck, bunny... i’ve wanted you too.” he kissed her again, but this time it was urgent and heated. 

[reasonsforhope]

Seven thousand more UAW members just walked off the job, expanding the strike to two more plants. Twenty-five thousand autoworkers are now on strike, and the walkout could continue to escalate if the Big Three don’t budge in negotiations.

[UAW president Shawn] Fain announced that Stellantis would be spared this time. The union had been expected to strike all three companies, but, said Region 1 director LaShawn English, three minutes before Fain was scheduled to go on Facebook Live, the UAW received frantic emails from company representatives.

[Note: Love that for the UAW. Also laughing so hard. Three minutes before the next round of strikes were annouced!!]

According to Fain, Stellantis made “significant progress” on cost-of-living allowances, the right not to cross a picket line, and the right to strike over product commitments and plant closures. “We are excited about this momentum at Stellantis and hope it continues,” Fain said...

“See You Next Week — Maybe?”

“These guys wanted to go out a long time ago,” said Cody Zaremba, a Local 602 member at the Lansing GM plant after the news broke that his plant would be joining the strike. “We’re ready. Everybody, truly, I believe, in the entire membership. They’re one with what’s going on.”

Five thousand workers at thirty-eight parts distribution centers across twenty-one states have been on strike since last Friday [September 22, 2023], along with thirteen thousand at three assembly plants in Michigan, Ohio, and Missouri who walked out on September 15. (See a map of all struck facilities here.) ...

The UAW is now calling on community supporters to organize small teams to canvass dealerships that sell and repair Big Three cars and trucks. On Tuesday, the union issued a canvassing tool kit with instructions, flyers, press releases, and talking points.

In negotiations with Ford and GM, autoworkers have clinched some important gains. Among them is an agreement by both companies to end at least one of the many tiers in current contracts, putting workers at certain parts plants back on the same wage scale as assembly workers. The top rate for Big Three assembly workers is currently around $32...

Ford was spared in last week’s escalation, because bargainers there had made further progress on gains for workers.

But today, the UAW once again called out workers at Ford and GM, putting some muscle behind its bold demands — a big wage boost, a shorter workweek, elimination of tiers, cost-of-living adjustments tied to inflation, protection from plant closures, conversion of temps to permanent employees, and the restoration of retiree health care and benefit-defined pensions to all workers.

-via Jacobin, September 29, 2023. Article continues below.

Keep Them Guessing

This year, for the first time in recent history, the union has played the three auto companies against each other with its strike strategy, departing from the union’s tradition of choosing one target company and patterning an agreement at the other two.

The stand-up strike strategy draws inspiration from an approach known as CHAOS (Create Havoc Around Our System), first deployed in 1993 by Alaska Airlines flight attendants, who announced they would be striking random flights. Although they struck only seven flights in a two-month period, Alaska had to send scabs on every plane, just in case. The unpredictability drew enormous media attention and drove management up the wall. Meanwhile the union was able to conserve its strength and minimize risk.

The companies miscalculated where the UAW was going to strike first, stockpiling engines and shipping them cross-country to the wrong facilities. Autoworkers relished the self-inflicted supply chain chaos on UAW Facebook groups and other social media platforms.

Nonstrikers’ morale on the factory floor has gotten a boost from rank and filers organizing to refuse voluntary overtime. With support both from Fain and the reform caucus Unite All Workers for Democracy (UAWD), workers have been encouraging each other to “Eight and Skate,” meaning to turn down extra work and decline to do management any favors.

Majority Public Support

A majority of Americans support the UAW strikers, and the Big Three have taken a PR hit since the strike began, according to a new survey conducted by the business intelligence firm Caliber.

“Eighty-seven percent of respondents told us they were aware of the strike,” Caliber CEO Shahar Silbershatz told the Intercept. “It’s clear the strike is not just causing commercial repercussions, but reputational repercussions as well.”

These reputational repercussions will only worsen...

"We Can Unmake It"

Fain didn't pull any punches in his speech... “That’s what’s different about working-class people. Whether we’re building cars or trucks or running parts distribution centers; whether we’re writing movies or performing TV shows... we do the heavy lifting. We do the real work. Not the CEOs, not the executives.

"And though we don’t know it, that’s what power is. We have the power. The world is of our making. The economy is of our making. This industry is of our making.

“And as we’ve shown, when we withhold our labor, we can unmake it.”

-via Jacobin, September 29, 2023

[accirax]

Translating and Analyzing Project: Eden's Garden's Title Theme

Haven't personally seen anyone else do this yet, so I figured I'd share my curiosity stirred up by the just-released Main Title Theme Live Symphony Performance with the class.

As a note, I don't speak Latin at all, so I will be relying on Google (including Google Translate) to help me out. Therefore, it's possible that some segments-- especially longer sentences or phrases-- may be translated incorrectly. If you do speak Latin and notice something that's off, I'd love to know!

This post will contain spoilers for Chapter 1, so please don't read this if you aren't caught up. That being said, let's get started with my most enthralling "theory" to date: trying to reverse engineer teaching myself Latin.

Because multiple sets of lyrics are occasionally sung at the same time, it's possible that my screenshots will contain multiple phrases in them. I'll do my best to avoid having that happen as much as possible, but otherwise, the explanatory captions under the pictures should make it clear which section I'm talking about!

A simple search of "omnibus" returns that it means "to all," but "omnibus de omnibus" becomes "everything about everything." This online Latin-English dictionary clarifies that the noun "omnis" can mean "all people" or "all things/everything." The -ibus suffix could be indicative of the locative, dative, or ablative tense. Ohio State University explains that the locative conjugation indicates the place where something happens, the dative conjugation indicates the person to whom something happens, and the ablative tense is really complicated could either mean why something happened (its origin) or how something happened (the means by which it occurred).

From what I can tell, "dubitandum" seems much simpler. It's just the gerund form of the verb "dubitare," which means "to doubt." In English, a gerund is a word that ends in "-ing" but is used as a noun. "Writing" in the sentence "I like writing" is a gerund because writing is a thing (a noun) that I like. Although dubitandum is a viable conjugation for many verb tenses, it seems to appear most often in the accusative case, which refers to "the end destination."

Stringing it together, "omnibus de omnibus dubitandum" would probably mean something like "all people will eventually doubt everything", or, as Google Translate would put it, "to doubt everything about everything."

"De omnibus dubitandum" specifically is apparently a common phrase (attributed to Renee Descartes) that just means "doubt everything." According to the link I just pasted, it was also a favorite saying of Karl Marx. C-Cassidy...?

Next is both a low register and a high register singing "fiat voluntas tu." "Fiat" is the singular present tense of "to do," so basically just "do." "Voluntas" seems to pop up most frequently as a noun, meaning "will" or "intent." And "tua", much like the Spanish "tú," just means "your." Smashing those together results in "do your will," or as Google Translate more eloquently puts it, "your will be done." "Thy will be done," if you want to get really fancy.

Here comes a long one. In total, the full sentence reads, "liber scriptus proferetur, in quo totem continentur, unde mundus judicetur." Thankfully, I don't have to translate this one. My boy William Josiah Irons already did it for me!

Reason being, this line is taken directly from the medieval Latin poem Dies Irae, AKA Day of Wrath, by Thomas of Celano. (And no, I did not know this offhand, I had to look this up too). Irons' translation tries to keep the original rhyme and meter of the Latin version, so if you want to sing along, use this:

Lo, the book, exactly worded, Wherein all hath been recorded, Thence shall judgement be awarded.

However, if that version is a bit too fancy for you, Wikipedia has a more modern translation:

The written book will be brought forth, in which all is contained, from which the world shall be judged.

If you're like me and know nothing about religion, you might see "book" in a medieval Roman (AKA Catholic) song and immediately assume that they're talking about the Bible. However, if Wikipedia is to be believed, they're referencing a different piece of literature which, to be fair, is at least mentioned in the Bible...! The Book of Life in Christian faith is "God’s record of all those over the centuries who have trusted Christ as their Savior and have followed Him as Lord." Therefore, the "all that is contained" would refer to the names of all of the holy people who believe in Catholicism.

The world-judging bit refers to "Judgment Day" or "The Last Judgment." That term refers to belief that, someday, Jesus Christ will return to Earth, and at that point, God will judge everyone who's ever lived, saving the faithful people and damning the non-believers. There are varying beliefs on whether more people would be saved or more people would be damned, but considering the song is called "Day of Wrath," I have to imagine Mr. Celano wasn't that optimistic. This song is famously associated with Catholic funeral masses too, so that upbeat attitude really stuck.

I could barely even hear this part under the music, but the subtitles alerted me to the fact that the chorus chants "da mihi factum, dabo tibi ius" here! This is another one I don't have to translate, because it's a reference to something else B)

"Da mihi factum, dabo tibi ius" means "give me the facts, I will give you law," according to A Guide to Latin in International Law via Oxford Reference. The reason why it's written in Latin is because, apparently, this saying originates from the Roman court system.

Looking at the bottom row, the lower-pitched chanting says, "vulnerant omnia, ultima necat." This semi-common phrase typically translates to, "all hours wound, the last one kills," even if the "hour" ("horae") isn't included.

The top comment on this Reddit thread breaks it down the way I would if I inherently knew Latin:

Let's review the underlying grammar: Vulnerant=they wound omnia is ambiguous because it can be both the subject and the object of vulnerant. However, in this case, horae is understood to be the subject, so omnia must be the object. It means all things. If it were omnes, then it would also be ambiguous because omnes can also be both as well. [...] So Vulnerant omnia [horae]=all [hours] wound* or the hours wound all things. The second one isn't very pleasant. And Vulnerant omnes [horae]=all [hours] wound* or the hours wound [men/men and women]. Ultima necat=the last kills

The comment also elaborates that the "horae" is assumed because the phrase is often found on clocks or sundials in churches. Many different sources return this phrase (or slight variations on it) including hours in the meaning, so I'm inclined to believe that it's true.

The bottom line repeats the same phrase again after this, so I won't include it for a second time.

Our final line! In the middle row, we have "Opere et veritate, de omnibus dubitandum!" This one isn't a reference, but luckily it's still easy enough to figure out.

The second half of the sentence is something we've looked at before. As a recap, "de" means "of," "omnibus" means "of everything/everyone", and dubitandum means "doubting." So, the second half of the sentence will probably mean something like "doubting of everything."

"Opere," much like "opus" is a noun meaning "work," as in a work of art. "Et" means "and," and "veritate" means "truth." The handy-dandy Latin-Is-Simple.com conveniently puts this together as "in action and in truth."

Together, the sentence means something like "in action and in truth, have doubt of everything/everyone." Google Translate puts it as "by work and truth, we must doubt everything," but I like my translation better.

Therefore, altogether, here's a rough translation of the P:EG theme's lyrics:

All people will eventually doubt everything... Thy will be done... The Book of Life will be brought forth, in which the names of all the holy are contained, and then the world will be judged. Give me the facts, I will give you law! All hours wound, the last hour kills. In action and truth, doubt everything and everyone. All hours wound, the last hour kills!

So, let's swap out our translator hats for lyrical analysis hats, 'cause there's obviously a lot here to relate to P:EG and the concept of killing games as a whole.

The first two lines paired together are a prophecy, a threat and a promise combined. Basically, the choir is saying, "you think that people will eventually doubt everything? Well, here's your wish come true!" The line clearly connects to Damon and his core philosophy. As long as Damon continues to not want to trust anybody, then nobody will seem trustworthy. Furthermore, if Damon continues to not trust others, that means there will always be one person in the group who won't be trustful, so everyone being trustful is impossible.

Not that it's much of a surprise, but the kinda judgy tone of these first two lyrics definitely implies that Damon's attitude will be challenged (and likely corrected) at some point in the story. "Thy will" was a stylization, but the truth remains that the phrase referred to a singular entity. The lyrics place the focus on a single individual, and blames them for everything that follows by implying that the lack of trust is their fault. It's very reminiscent of the end of the Prologue, where the entire class blames Damon and Eva for ruining the vibes between them.

The Day of Wrath section continues the game's religious theming, invoking discussions of the end of all times. Although I doubt a literal Armageddon will happen in P:EG, I can certainly understand how the participants of the killing game would consider it the end of all things. Certainly, a lot of less-than-virtuous people will be dying here, especially if you're under the assumption that everyone who kills is morally bankrupt.

It's certainly an interesting implication that those in the killing game who are most virtuous might be the ones who are saved. Are they just extending that morality to how likely someone is to kill them? Like, people wouldn't kill you if they think you're cool? There is also the argument that students who are too curious or have something to hide are more likely to find themselves in deadly situations (a la Wolfgang), leaving the less bold students alive in the end. Still, that's not as much of a judgment on God's (Tozu's?) part.

Something in me wonders if this killing game might have been created as a challenge. I don't think that the motivations behind it would be to punish this group of students in particular-- we know semi-factually that some of their deepest, darkest secrets are hardly anything to sneeze at. Instead of being so targeted, the goal would be to have most of the students fail, while a select few succeed.

There's a definite possibility that Eden's Garden College-- and the titular Project: Eden's Garden-- is a ploy to weed out the "fake Ultimates" by proving who truly has what it takes to succeed in the cutthroat world of business by literally cutting people's throats. Becoming the "true face of talent" could mean literally erasing the other faces of those who weigh the title of Ultimate down; with so many Ultimates around, it's easy to not notice if one or two go missing.

If we're in a world where talent is valued above all else, the "virtue" that Tozu could be sparing them for could be talent itself. "Leadership, communication, and persuasion" are certainly skills that could help you survive a Class Trial (whether as a blackened or spotless). Depending how deep the corruption goes in this world, it's possible that the graduates of Eden's Garden Academy-- survivors of former killing games-- are simply willing to keep quiet about the Academy's dark secret if it means that they can claim all of the accolades for themselves. They fought for and earned it, after all.

If this is the direction the story takes, I can definitely see how making someone like Damon the protagonist would be the perfect choice. For him to spend all game talking about his superiority and belief in the talents of the Academy only to learn that all of the Ultimates he admired kept 14 nearly-as-talented skeletons in their closet would surely create an interesting internal conflict for the final Class Trial.

This is all just a theory, as there are plenty of other ways the Day of Wrath poem could relate to P:EG. However, I think it's a theory with a decent backing behind it.

"Give me the facts, I will give you law"-- I mean, that has to relate to Wolfgang, right? Even beyond the fact that it just says "law" in it, it's international law, perfect for an Ultimate Lawyer who wants to unite everyone. This line could definitely indicate how Wolfgang took Damon's facts (that some people in the Academy would be willing to kill) and turned them into ammunition for his own missive. If I were writing this analysis before Ch1 dropped, I would probably have speculated more about the future rivalry between Damon and Wolfgang. Instead, Damon and Wolfgang's "rivalry" is already over, with honestly not that much beef between them.

Given that Wolfgang is dead, it's also worth it to consider this outside of a Wolfgang context moving forward. This line could also relate to Damon's experiences in solving a Class Trial: after getting the facts of the case, Damon goes to the Class Trial Grounds and lays down the law.

"All hours wound, the last hour kills" is super interesting in the context of a killing game. My immediate connection was to the chapters, or in-universe Trials, of the killing game. All chapters of the game will wound Damon and the eventual other survivors, but it's the final chapter in which they're confronted with the true despairs of the world.

Another interpretation could work on a more chapter-by-chapter basis: every day in the killing game damages something, whether it's the killer's sanity or their business/reputation out in the real world, so it's in their "last hour" when they snap and need to get out. Especially with the ticking clock of the Traitor Perk out there for Eva at least and possibly future killers as well, time feels like a big factor.

In general, I would assume that (if the quote is found on clocks in churches) the phrase probably means something along the lines of "don't procrastinate," which could also be applied to the concept of Ultimates in general. They're always on that grindset.

And finally, "in action and truth, don't trust anything or anyone." This line is pretty unremarkable (being a pretty obvious repetition of Damon's mindset at the beginning of the game) other than in contrast with the beginning of the song. As I said, at the beginning of the song, the choir was almost reprimanding Damon with their "thy will be done." However, here, not trusting anything or anyone is spoken more like advice.

It could be that the choir was actually speaking more neutrally at the beginning, and that they're willing to accept the lack of trust because they always knew it would happen. Or, it could be that, by this point in the song, the lyrics have shifted to represent Damon's point of view instead of the universe's. If "I will give you law" did relate to Damon laying down the law, maybe that "I" pronoun is the point of the song at which the lyrics become Damon's thoughts?

Otherwise, maybe the choir is just meant to make Damon feel bad no matter what he does. Let's assume that, over the course of the game, Damon will come to trust certain individuals more. If true, then at the beginning of the game, the choir could be like "damn if you want to not trust people then it's kinda your fault what happens next dude," and closer to the end they could be like "oooooooh you wanna not trust people so bad remember Eva?" If the song is just meant to be an imposing feel-bad moment, then the emotions of the impartial choir could be unimportant.

And, well, that's the song! As is basically my brand, this post wound up way longer than I thought it would, back when I thought I was just going to Google Translate all the lyrics and be done with it. But, I hope that learning a bit about Latin was intriguing (assuming I did it correctly), and that the plotlines implied by the lyrics have given you a bit to chew on!

Still working on the overall Ch1 review/analysis, I just thought that writing this post would only take me, like, half an hour... Hopefully I'll see you back whenever that's done! Until then!

[mariacallous]

Growing up in Lancaster, Ohio, I remember discovering a book in the local library that ultimately helped to change how I viewed my hometown’s history. The book, “Jewish Literacy” by Joseph Telushkin, had a small sticker on the inside cover indicating it was purchased through the B’nai Israel Synagogue of Lancaster Jewish Book Fund. This was surprising, as there hadn’t been an organized Jewish community in Lancaster for years.

I later learned that the fund had been established by the remaining members of the synagogue after its sale in 1993, with the intention of ensuring that the tradition of Jewish education continued in Lancaster, even in the absence of a physical synagogue.

This discovery, along with other signs like a Star of David engraved next to a cross on the town’s war memorial and the presence of the building that once housed the B’nai Israel synagogue downtown, hinted at Lancaster’s former Jewish community. During its nearly seven decades of existence, B’nai Israel not only served its congregants but also hosted groups — including church youth organizations and civic societies — to educate others about Judaism. As in many small towns across the United States, the synagogue provided the only accessible resources for learning about Jewish culture, history and theology.

For the last several years, I’ve dedicated myself to documenting the Jewish histories of small towns in both my home state of Ohio and my adopted state of New York. I am drawn in by the realization that many of these once-active communities, despite their contributions, were in danger of fading into obscurity. As a volunteer, I have spent countless hours piecing together the stories of Jewish families, tracing their lives and legacies in over 20 small towns. In most of these places, the written record of their Jewish past was sparse, with local historical organizations often lacking the resources or staffing to fully explore these stories. These constraints also create opportunities for volunteers and community members to engage in uncovering stories still waiting to be told.

Small-town synagogues often function not just as religious institutions but as unique centers for education and community engagement. In Lancaster, the B’nai Israel synagogue opened its doors to various groups seeking to learn about Judaism. Its book fund ensured that, even after the synagogue’s closure, locals could continue to conveniently access resources devoted to Jewish culture and history.

Eighty miles to the south, in Portsmouth, Ohio, the Jewish community was also engaged in interfaith efforts from its earliest days. When Beneh Abraham, the local synagogue, was consecrated in 1858, Christian residents of the town supported the construction, and the First Presbyterian Church choir even sang during the dedication. Such partnerships went both ways, with Jews contributing to the building funds for nearby churches.

The local rabbi, Judah Wechsler, taught in both English and German. Wechsler’s leadership helped Beneh Abraham function as more than a religious space — it became a center for community engagement in Portsmouth. Portsmouth’s first synagogue, like many other historic religious structures in America, no longer stands today, but this early story from the town’s Jewish community reminds us of how intertwined religious groups in small towns can be. Beneh Abraham continues to exist in Portsmouth and is one of Ohio’s oldest Jewish congregations.

In Auburn, New York, the former B’nai Israel Synagogue played a crucial role in bringing neighbors together and fostering understanding. Throughout much of the 20th and early 21st centuries, B’nai Israel welcomed interfaith activities, particularly through its long-standing relationship with St. Luke’s United Church of Christ. This engagement included an annual exchange of pulpits, novel when it began in 1939, where the rabbi of B’nai Israel and the minister at St. Luke’s would preach at each other’s congregations. This effort, undertaken each year during the national Brotherhood Week campaign, continued for over 30 years, helping strengthen ties between Jewish and Christian communities in Auburn.

In both Auburn, New York, and Lancaster, Ohio, the B’nai Israel synagogues’ efforts to educate non-Jewish neighbors about Judaism often left lasting impressions, in keeping with studies showing that ​​the more people know about Jews, the less they embrace antisemitic tropes. With the closure of these small-town synagogues in the late 20th and early 21st centuries, the physical presence of Jewish life in these towns has largely disappeared, raising questions about how this loss impacts interfaith understanding and broader cultural awareness.

As small-town Jewish communities across America continue to contract, preserving their histories becomes not just an act of remembrance, but also an essential part of understanding the broader American story. Though often small in numbers, small-town Jewish communities have played crucial roles in shaping the civic, cultural and economic landscapes of their communities.

As the physical reminders of small-town Jewish life — such as synagogues, social centers and long standing family-owned businesses — fade, there is a danger that their stories will disappear, a loss not only for Jewish history but American history. They remind us that America’s heartland is not as monolithic as it is often portrayed, and that diversity has long been part of the stories of many communities.

In Lancaster and Auburn, the efforts of individuals and institutions to preserve local Jewish histories stand as models of how this work can be done. In its last years, members of Auburn’s former B’nai Israel synagogue donated many of the congregation’s religious artifacts, including the synagogue’s historic stained-glass windows, to the Cayuga Museum of History & Art, ensuring that the congregation’s memory would live on in a public space.

But in most of the communities I’ve studied, there was no such effort until recently. In some towns, synagogues were demolished or fell into disrepair, their histories largely unrecorded. It wasn’t until I began this work as an undergraduate  that the stories of these Jewish communities began to be gathered and pieced together, bringing their legacies back into the light.

Preservation alone is not enough. These histories must be shared and integrated into broader conversations about American identity. We not only honor Jewish families who helped to build and sustain so many small-town communities but also ensure that future generations understand the complexity and richness of small-town life in America.

In a time when debates about national identity dominate our public discourse, preserving the histories of small-town Jewish communities offers a crucial reminder: that the American story is, and always has been, one of diversity and change.

[beardedmrbean]

FIRST ON FOX: Freshman GOP Sen. Bernie Moreno is introducing a bill that would declare English as the official language of the United States.

The bill, named the English Language Unity Act of 2025, would "declare English as the official language of the United States" and "establish a uniform English language rule for naturalization, and to avoid misconstructions of the English language texts of the laws of the United States."

Variations of the bill have been put forward in the past, including in 2023 from then Ohio Sen. JD Vance, who said at the time that English "has been a cornerstone of American culture for over 250 years" and that it "is far past time for Congress to codify its place into law, which is exactly what this bill does."

In a statement to Fox News Digital, Moreno, who was born in Colombia, said, "JD Vance was right – English is the official language of the United States and, as one of the only naturalized citizens serving in the Senate, I should know."

"The proudest moment of my life was when I became an American citizen at 18, a process that showed me just how foundational the English language is to the American way of life. It’s long past time we enshrine this simple fact into law."

While English is the most commonly spoken language in the United States, the country is one of a handful that do not have a national language. 

Polling conducted by Rasmussen in 2021 showed that 73% of American adults believe that English should be the official language of the United States.

While critics of the effort have called it xenophobic and claim it demeans non-English speakers, former GOP Congressman Bob Good, who introduced similar legislation in the House when he served in Congress, argued the legislation is necessary. 

"In the melting pot of the United States of America, our common English language promotes unity and fosters cultural integration," Good said in 2023.

"The English Language Unity Act is a common-sense measure that will strengthen America… It is also in the best interests of our legal immigrants, as proficiency in English helps them assimilate into our culture, succeed in the workplace, and reach their greatest potential."

[leclercsredhelmet]

So Highschool ✰ Joe Burrow

A/N: Hi hi! Haven’t posted in a while because I’ve been busy writing and editing, fellow Joe Burrow fans I come bearing gifts for everyone! So Highschool is one of my favorite Taylor songs and I had been waiting to write a Joe blurb based on this song so here you go! Hope you all enjoy it <3

“Tell me ‘bout the first time that you saw me”

The balcony doors were wide open and the summer breeze was felt inside the room. Joe had his head in your lap while a book was held in your hands as you read out loud. You had been reading quietly when he entered the room after he had finished watching some game tape. His glasses were on and you smiled, a twin smile spread across his face when he saw you wearing glasses as well. 

Wordlessly he lay on the bed and placed his head in your lap, your fingers weaved their way through his hair as you combed through it softly. “You’re reading The Alchemist again,” he observed. “Yeah, I am,” you replied softly. “Read it to me please,” he said. You chuckled, “I like hearing your voice when you read, it’s soothing,” he said. Placing a soft kiss on his forehead you began to read. 

Joe traced patterns on your bare legs as he listened to your voice. It was soft and you would take pauses whenever a comma came up. Just by your voice, he could tell if the texts had any commas or punctuation marks. “So, I love you because the entire universe conspired for me to find you,” you read and chuckled. Joe chuckled, “It sure did,” he stated and you hummed in agreement. Setting the book aside you leaned down to look at him, he smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. 

“Do you remember when we first met at school?” he asked. Laughing you nodded, “I do, we were nine and I had just moved to Cincinnati,” you said. “It was English class and the only free seat was next to me, your hair was up in two curly pigtails and your glasses were the same color as the Mystery Machine,” he said with a smile and you laughed. “Then you said, cool glasses, I’m Joe,” you said. Joe chuckled “And we sat together in every class, from fourth grade until senior year,” he recalled. Fondly you smiled and recalled your childhood with Joe. 

Flashback

At nine years old you didn’t think you would move to Ohio of all places but your father’s job had brought all of you here. He had accepted a teaching position in Athens, Ohio. The move was a little unexpected due to circumstances you really can’t remember but you arrived during the third week of classes. 

You didn’t know anyone at the school and that terrified you, following the principal he introduced you to your teacher and classmates. There was only one spot available at the front of the classroom next to a light-haired boy with baby-blue eyes.” Cool glasses, I’m Joe” he whispered. With a small stutter, you replied, “Thank you. I’m Y/N.” 

Later in the day, you found out you were neighbors and that was the start of your friendship with Joe. Your parents joked that you would forever be glued at the hip and wouldn’t be a surprise if you got married one day. Little did you both know that you would get married you were engaged as of this moment. 

Joe taught you about football and you in return introduced him to books, he was smart but always said you were the smartest out of the two. “When I make it into the NFL you’re going to be a college professor,” he said matter-of-factly one evening when you were studying. You chuckled, “What makes you so sure?” you countered. Joe shrugged, “I just have that feeling,” he replied. 

Growing up with Joe you never thought you would like him but one day you almost accidentally kissed in the library while he helped you reach for a book. From that day on you realized that you had a crush on your best friend but you never said anything because you were fearful of ruining things. Joe also had that lingering feeling but your eighth-grade selves were too scared to say anything and it wasn’t until high school when he finally decided to tell you. 

High school

Joe had a girlfriend in high school and it pained you a little to watch how happy he was. You were happy for him but couldn’t help your dislike towards the girl after she had cornered you to tell you she didn’t want you near Joe. Naturally, you didn’t listen and Joe noticed you were hiding some discomfort. Hiding your feelings from people came easy to you, but Joe knew you like the back of his hand. Reading you was just as easy as memorizing a playbook, it was second nature to him. One evening while you studied for a science test in his room he confronted you and you had no chance but to tell him. 

The next day he had talked with his girlfriend and she acted normal when he was around but you were aware she was talking about you in the halls. You didn’t find it in you to care but still, the lingering feeling that she truly did not like Joe loomed. No one knew him like you, and no one knew you like him. 

Senior year had come and you were both focused on what lay ahead, Joe was set on making it to college football and you were sure he was going to be there. You were putting in the work as well, your focus was set on Yale. He had been having some trouble with his girlfriend and you had done your best to help him through it. “I think I’m breaking up with her,” he said and your attention drifted from the math homework you were working on. “Are you sure about that?” you asked. “Yeah, I need to focus on finishing what’s left of the year and I don’t love her,” he said. “Oh,” was all you said and he raised an eyebrow. “No hey Joe think this through,” he said with a chuckle. You chuckled weakly. “Joe I’m sorry I can’t help with that, you know that I lack in that department,” you said. “You also don’t like her!” he said with a grin and poked your side. 

Playfully you rolled your eyes, “My dislike towards her is not the point, it’s your relationship anyways,” you said firmly and he knew that was you shutting the topic down. Joe broke up with her the next day and you expected to see him beat up but he was fine but her, well she had made a scene that day and stormed off the field. You watched her and fought back a snicker. 

It was Joe’s last practice before the Homecoming Game and since you were leaving with him you sat on the bleachers to wait for him. A book was perched on your lap and Joe looked at you while he stretched. “Has anyone asked her out to Prom?” one of his teammates asked. “Some but she’s turned them down,” he replied. “What if I ask her, do you think she’ll say yes?” he asked. Joe felt a sense of jealousy wash over him. “She’ll say no,” he snapped. “Damn Joe, chill. It was just a question,” his teammate said, “And that was just an answer,” he said before walking off. 

His mind was racing, the past few weeks he’d spent his spare time wrestling with asking you to prom until he eventually planned something. It was true that you had turned everyone down, and he knew why. You were still holding on to your end of the deal from seventh grade, and he was too. He had asked no girl out and turned down the flock of girls that asked him out to prom. 

Practice was almost done and he looked at you, breaking into a smile you waved and he waved back. The book had disappeared in your bag and he knew that you had most likely finished it halfway through practice. Being friends through the years meant that you’d developed an unspoken routine, you would read before his practice started and occasionally set the book down to observe him and sometimes go as far as to cheer for him. Seeing you clapping for him always brought a smile to his face and pushed him to score more during games. 

A sweaty Joe ran over to you, he set his helmet down and you looked at him with a grin. “Hey Joey,” you said. “Hey Belle,” he said using the nickname he had for you. In response, you giggled, “Are you done?” you asked. “Mhm, we can go soon,” he said while he dried his face with a towel. Wordlessly you handed him his water bottle and he smiled. “It was a good practice, you looked good out there,” You said. He cocked his eyebrow at you and your cheeks flushed, “Playing, I mean” you added clearing your throat. “Of course, nothing else,” he said standing up. You furrowed your brow, he was being a little fidgety but you ignored it. Slinging his bag over his shoulder he said goodbye to his teammates and you walked off the field and got into his car. 

“Do you want to come in?” you asked, “No I’m good, open your window after dinner,” he said. “Okay, is there a reason?” you asked confused “Just open the window Belle,” he said winking. “Don’t do anything stupid,” you said before kissing his cheek and walking inside. 

Joe’s leg was bouncing under the table, “Joe you nervous for the game?” Jimmy asked concerned, “No, it’s something else,” he said. “Is it Y/N?” his dad asked. “How’d you know?” he asked. His parents smiled, “It’s not that hard for us to see it, honey,” his mom said. “You like her,” Jimmy said nudging him. Joe chuckled, “Y-yeah I like her a lot,” he said. “She likes you too, but don’t tell her I said that,” Robin said with a wink. “Go,” Jimmy urged and he darted up the stairs, before opening his room door, he breathed in and out and fixed his hair. 

When he opened his door, his attention went next door. You were lying in bed with a new book held high above your head. Faintly he heard some music playing and took a breath before grabbing the box from under his bed. Your window was open and he walked towards him, he whistled and your head cocked to the side. Climbing out of bed you made it to your window. “You okay Joey?” you asked. “I’m gonna climb in!” he exclaimed. Your eyes went wide, “You’re crazy!” you called back. “Maybe!” he replied. “Use the front door dumbass you can hurt yourself,” you stated. 

Joe ignored you and grabbed the box as he climbed up, he could hear you muttering and he chuckled. Carefully he walked over to the edge of the roof and jumped. Your hand shot out and he grabbed it, you were hanging out the window. “You’re fucking crazy!” You said and he just laughed as he pulled himself up. With a yelp, you tumbled backward and fell on the floor. Joe’s arms were protectively around you, your noses were touching. Gulping you pulled apart and slapped his shoulder, he laughed and helped you both up. 

“Why in the heavens did you jump out the window? You could’ve hurt yourself, Joey,” you said. “Not the point, here. I got this for you,” he replied while handing you a black cardboard box. Smiling you grabbed his hand and you sat in your bed. The black box was between you and carefully you undid the blue ribbon. Opening the box you saw some pictures you’d both taken over the years. Your eyes watered a little and Joe wiped a stray tear from your face. A copy of your favorite book was in there and you grabbed it, “Was this the one I gave to you?” you inquired. Joe nodded, “Open it, there’s something in there,” he said. Opening the book your eyes scanned across the dedication page and saw a post-it with his handwriting. Will you be my prom date?

Laughing you looked at him, “Yes, I’ll be your prom date!” you said and hugged him. Joe pulled back and kissed you sweetly. The action shocked you but you kissed back, “This might be late because you already got into Yale and I’m going to Ohio State but, I love you, like actually love you,” he said looking at you. “And I know it’s crazy because Yale is nine hours and thirty-two minutes away but I want to date you, so will you be my girlfriend?” he asked. Chuckling you grabbed his hands, “I love you too and yes I’ll be your girlfriend,” you said with a laugh. 

“We’re really doing this huh,” he said while holding your hands. “Finally,” you said with a laugh. Joe laughed, “Would’ve been sooner if I had just asked you in freshman year,” he said. “Maybe it happened now because it was meant to be that way,” you said with a smile. “Since when did you know?��� he asked. Reaching up you stroked his cheek, “It started in eighth grade, the day you reached up to get me the book and we almost kissed,” you said with a chuckle. “Me too,” he said with a laugh. 

“I was scared so I never said anything because I didn’t want to lose you,” you spoke. Joe pressed his forehead against yours, “Belle I don’t think nothing could’ve made you lose me,” he said. “You’re so cheesy, Joseph!” you exclaimed and he laughed. You stayed there for a few minutes, “You should go, you need to rest. Friday is a big day,” you said. Joe pecked your lips, “Wear my shirt, please” he said. You nodded, “Always, the back door is unlocked c’mon,” you said. 

Sneaking out of your room you led him outside through the backyard and crossed into his yard. His hand was on the door outside and as you turned to leave he grabbed your waist. Spinning you around he pressed a quick kiss to your lips and you smiled before kissing back and leaving him there to go inside. 

When he made it to his room he waved at you from the window and drew a heart in the air, you giggled and mimicked him. 

“Truth dare spin bottles, you know how to ball, l know Aristotle”

You had finished your degree and had come to Baton Rouge for Joe’s last game with LSU. They had won the NCAA and you smiled when you saw him hoist the trophy over his head. His teammates cheered and you laughed while wiping a tear from your face. Both of your parents were there along with Jimmy and Robin, you waited for him in the field and you grinned once he saw you. Last month he won the Heisman Trophy and you couldn’t have been prouder. Everything he had worked so hard for was falling into place, the next step was the NFL and you were certain he was going to get drafted. 

With a grin plastered on his face and backward cap, he ran over to you and picked you up. Spinning you around you giggled and held on to him, gently he set you down and dipped his head to kiss you. You smiled into the kiss and pulled apart, “I’m proud of you Joey,” you said holding onto his face. “Right back at ya Belle,” he said and you smiled. His parents hugged him and so did yours, his arm was around you and you looked up at him with a dopey grin and love-filled eyes.

You were with him at his parent's house when he got drafted first overall for the Cincinnati Bengals. When you got hired at the University of Cincinnati the next day he was by your side. Both of you had shared victories and defeats together, after all these years it was amazing to see that your support for each other never wavered. You had seen each other grow over the years, you’d supported each other through the ups and downs and when either of you needed an extra nudge you were there. 

End of Flashback

“Belle, you’re even better the Heisman and the Lombardi,” Joe said and you chuckled. “I love you too,” you replied. Joe kissed your forehead, “Hey you were right all those years ago,” you said. Joe chuckled knowing what you meant, “You’re a Literature professor in college and I’m in the NFL,” he said. Laughing you kissed him, “You know how to ball and I know Aristotle.” He looked at you and grinned, with every glance, laugh, kiss and touch you felt like it was high school all over again. 

(all photo credits go to the respective owners)

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jessica Valenti at Abortion, Every Day:

Abortion, Every Day has learned that the Trump administration is freezing close to $35 million in Title X funding that was set to be distributed Tuesday. This unprecedented move won’t just hit Planned Parenthood affiliates—it will impact multiple nonprofit organizations, including at least one that may have been targeted in retaliation for a lawsuit against the first Trump administration. Another group had millions in funding paused over a statement affirming their “commitment to addressing systemic racism.” The scale of this funding freeze is staggering. Starting April 1, California, Hawaii, Maine, Missouri, Mississippi, Montana, Tennessee, and Utah will receive zero Title X dollars. Most of Pennsylvania, Minnesota, and Alaska will lose access as well. Other states impacted include Connecticut, Idaho, Indiana, Kentucky, New Hampshire, Ohio, South Carolina, Texas, and Virginia. Remember, Title X is the nation’s only federal family planning program. It provides affordable reproductive health care—birth control, STI testing, cancer screenings—primarily to low-income and uninsured patients. There’s no overstating the impact here: Title X is a safety net. Six in 10 women who visit a publicly funded clinic consider it their usual source of medical care; for four in 10, it’s their only source.

[...]

And while the HHS is telling grantees that their funding is only “temporarily” withheld, the administration is asking the groups to hand over an impossible amount of documentation in just ten days in order to comply with their investigation. Things like copies of lists of patients and their races, lists of undocumented patients, and copies of any grievances brought against their many health care centers. The goal appears to be asking already-overtaxed organizations for so much, it will be impossible to comply. What struck most of my sources was how many of the grantees targeted appear random. Did some HHS intern search their websites for mentions of racism or gender-affirming care? That said, one grantee may have been attacked in retaliation—which is certainly a Trump administration hobby. Essential Access, which serves California and Hawaii, just so happens to have sued the first Trump administration in 2019 over their Title X rules. But again, it’s unclear. Some of the defunded groups provide abortions, others don’t. Some are Planned Parenthood affiliates, others aren’t. Folks seem to believe that chaos is part of the point. The targets of the freeze may seem random, but the attack on reproductive health care has been in the works for years. Conservatives haven’t just been chipping away at funding—they’ve been plotting a total overhaul. Last year, Republicans pushed to slash nearly $300 million from Title X. And then there’s Project 2025, which lays out how the Trump administration should “reframe” the family planning program to focus on “fertility awareness and holistic family planning,” and “education on healthy marriage and relationships.” They also want to end what they call “religious discrimination” in Title X grant funding—code for giving federal dollars to crisis pregnancy centers. In plain English: They want to take money meant for real reproductive health care and hand it to religious extremists who oppose birth control. All while the country isin the midst of a full-blown reproductive health care crisis.

The Trump Regime freezes $35M in Title X funding that will impact 20 states in part or in full. This dastardly move is a Project 2025-inspired attack on family planning, reproductive health, contraception, and birth control.

[cottoncandytrafficcones]

10 Cool Jewish Women from Modern Day: Part 4 as a Shabbat treat

Siona Benjamin, an author and artist. Born in Mumbai, she is an Indian-American artist living in New York City. Born to a Bene Israel family, she was brought up in a predominantly Hindu and Muslim India. Her work has been featured in a variety of media including The New York Times and The Chicago Tribune. Most of her work figures women, including Miriam, Rachel, Leah, and Esther, and often features Indian themes and clothing. She is the illustrator of children's books On a Chariot of Fire, The Blue Butterfly of Cochin, and I am Hava, as well as the semi-biographical Growing Up Jewish in India.

Becky Albertalli, an American author and former psychologist. Raised in a Reform Jewish household, she has a BA and a PhD in psychology. In her practice, she specialized in working with Queer youth. Her first book, Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda, was published in 2015. She came out as bisexual in an essay in 2020. She has received acclaim from several reviewers. One of her books was named a Stonewall Honor Book.

Rabbanit Sally Mayer, Rosh Midrasha at Mideshet Lindenbaum, as well as a teacher of Talmud and Halcha. She has worked as an editor for the new Korean translation of the Talmud. Born in America, she chaired the Talmud Department and Israel Guidance center for Ma'ayanot. She holds a BA from Stern and an MA in Medieval Jewish History from YU.

Aly Raisman, a retired American artistic gymnast and two time Olympian who participated in the 2012 and 2016 Olympic games, winning gold and bronze medals, as well as the 2011 and 2015 World Championships, where she won bronze and gold medals. Born in Boston, she takes pride in being a member of the Jewish community. She was awarded the Arthur Ashe Courage Award for coming forward as a victim of sexual abuse, and has participated in a documentary about it. She finished fourth place in season sixteen of Dancing With the Stars, and has worked to empower women.

Tali Golergant, an Israeli-born Luxembourgish singer, songwriter, actress, and vocal coach who represented Luxembourg in Eurovision 2024. Born to a Peruvian Jewish father and an Israeli mother, she lived in several countries including Chile and Argentina before settling in Luxembourg. She began playing the piano at 7, and singing and acting at 12; she is fluent in Hebrew, Spanish, French, and English.

Marissa Avram, the first Thai soldier to serve in the IDF. Born to an Israeli father and a Thai mother who converted, she has an MA in Counter-Terrorism, Intelligence and Cybersecurity from Reichman University.

Alysa Stanton, American Reform rabbi and the first African American female rabbi and the first African American rabbi to lead a majority-Ashkenazi congregation. Born in Cleveland, Ohio, she converted to Judaism at 24. She earned a BA in psychology and an MA in education from Colorado State University, and used to be a psychotherapist.

Alison Levine, a Canadian boccia competitor and Paralympic athlete. Diagnosed with idiopathic muscular dystrophy as a teenager, she threw boccia for the first time in 2012. She made her Paralympic debut in 2016, and won her first gold medal at the Montreal World Open in 2019. She has won medals in both singles and pairs boccia.

Dalila Bela, a Canadian-American actress of English, French, Brazilian, Panamanian and Spanish ancestry. She is publicly bisexual. Appearing in her first commercial at age five, she is known for her work as an actress in Anne With an E.

Leigh Bardugo, an Israeli born author known for the Grishaverse. Of Sephardic, Russian Jewish and Lithuanian Jewish heritage, she graduated with a BA in English from Yale. She had published several books, including ones with Jewish protagonists.

[scarletqueenx]

chapter fourteen - something else

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: After a few months dating, Dean abandoned you in a motel room without giving you any explanation, years later his brother and he saved you from a demon and now you hunt with them discovering every day new mysteries about your family and the destiny that awaits you. Heaven, hell, demons, angels, vampires, witches and much more.

A/N: English is not my first language. This is my first time writing in the readers perspective, as i'm used to write oc´s.

series masterlist

When Carter stopped his car in front of you, you let out all the air you didn't know you had been holding. After your talk with Ruby, you could only see one way to clear your head and find a way to help Dean at the same time, but to do that you had to go. Leaving him in that motel room the same way he had left you hadn't been your intention. It was a somewhat cruel irony, and while a part of you felt faintly proud to give him just a small hint of the pain you'd felt then, for the most part you felt terrible for it.

You felt sick to your stomach, and your heart hurt at the mere thought of hurting him. It was almost as if you could feel the same emotions he was feeling. As if you were somehow connected.

Nothing could surprise you anymore, so anything was possible.

Luckily for you, Carter wasn't too far from Ohio when you called him. So after gathering your things, you headed to your agreed meeting place to wait for him.

Your eyes could barely look at him as you climbed into the car. You felt like the worst person in the world.

"He'll forgive you. If we find a way to save him, all of this won't matter to him." Carter broke the silence, looking closely at you. He could sense your discomfort, your sadness. You had very characteristic gestures when you felt emotions this strong. Many times you were unable to stop the tears from pooling in your eyes, your lips pressed into a thin line and the color of your skin paled slightly, noticeable even with your makeup.

"Let's make sure we find a solution." You stated, looking back at him. "And let's get this over with."

Seeing the determination in your eyes, Carter nodded, starting the car to begin your long drive.

"What's the plan?" He asked.

"If we could just talk to mom it would be so much easier." You admitted with a sigh. "Do you remember everything from that night?"

Carter frowned. "I think so. Why?"

"No reason." You shook your head. "It's just that I've been having these dreams lately, you know? And I've been remembering things I didn't remember before. Like hidden memories."

"Well, the mind does that with some traumatic memories. As a defense mechanism."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I was wondering if it had happened to you too."

"I think mine are so traumatic that they'd rather haunt me." He snorted. "Besides, Dorian would never let me forget about that night."

You sighed, looking down to your hands.

"You know all about what happened at the Salem summer camp with Mom and Christine, don't you?" You asked after a few minutes. "You know about their friend Harper."

"Yeah, and that her brother Grant had a daughter who was named after her." Carter nodded. "Why?"

"Grant's body is the one Dorian normally uses." You explained.

Carter's fists tightened around the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white as a sigh left his lips. Carter knew Grant's face all too well. It was the face he always saw in his dreams when Dorian decided to visit him.

"Yeah." He murmured after a few seconds. "How... How do you know?" He frowned, looking back at you.

"Ruby."

"Ugh, that bitch doesn't know when to listen, does she?" He complained. "I told her to stay away from you."

"Well, she didn't. And even though I still hate her, I'm kind of glad." You admitted. "I need to find answers to all the questions that have been haunting me for all these years."

"There's not much to know." Carter sighed. "The new leader of hell, Lilith, wants us in order to fulfill her Apocalypse plan. Dorian and Ophelia were witches, died, turned into demons and now they want to overthrow her and carry out their own Apocalypse plan, which involves killing at least one of us. All those deals, an everything that happen for us to exist, don't matter much if you think about it."

"What does Dad have to do with all this?" You asked.

"Dad made a deal that night."

"What deal? What did the demons ask him in return?" You frowned.

"Me." Carter replied, looking back at you. "Dad promised them my head in exchange for leaving you and Peter alone. Then you took Dorian out of my body and Dad put me in that demon-protected mental institution."

"Ophelia told me that killing one of you two was enough." You recalled.

"Yeah. They never needed to kill all three of us. One is enough, because without the three of us, Lilith can't do anything."

"So... Dad traded one son for another?" You looked at your brother in disbelief.

"And he protected his prodigy daughter. His favorite."

Noticing his heavy gaze on you, you looked down to your feet. Being the favorite daughter wasn't as pretty as Carter might imagine. Everything rested on your shoulders. But you also couldn't imagine being in his position. Much less knowing that your father had made a deal with his soul.

"The last night Dorian got into my body and talked to Dad, he put a time limit on it. The deal ends the same day as your boyfriend's."

"Why?" You questioned without bothering to correct him.

"I don't know." Carter admitted.

Not knowing exactly what to ask or say, you stayed silent. For several hours all that could be heard inside the car was its engine and the melodies of the songs being played on the radio. The exhaustion of your mind and body soon drove you into a deep sleep. Your nightmare continued from the point where the last one had ended, but for the first time, all the memories in the dream were things you hadn't forgotten.

Things like how you had come out of the hiding place despite the searing, insufferable pain your body had been exposed to, how you had managed to get to Carter's room, turn on his radio, throw one of the speakers into the back yard of the house and recite an exorcism. You also remembered how the black smoke had left his body and how your father and Carter had fallen unconscious in the middle of the yard as you rejoined Peter, who was crying inconsolably in the absence of his older sister holding him.

Police sirens were the last thing you heard before you woke up. You must have slept a lot, for the instant you opened your eyes Carter was already crossing the border between Iowa and Nebraska.

Those sirens continued to echo in your mind just as a loud bang and the impact of a car slamming against your door silenced any and all of your thoughts.

Your body was pushed forward, the belt jamming into your skin hard as the airbag popped from the dashboard. The glass windows exploded, cutting your skin into small gashes as the car began to spin out of control. It was then that you completely lost consciousness. Your brother's voice calling your name being the last thing you managed to hear.

Carter hadn't seen the car that had hit you on that deserted road. But after crawling out of the wrecked car he had stolen in Salem, he did catch a glimpse of a woman's figure standing in front of him. The smile on her lips, the black color in her eyes. He knew exactly who she was.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

When Carter woke up in a hospital room, he knew exactly what he had to do. His head ached a little and the cuts from the window glass of the car were burning, but that wasn't going to stop him. When he noticed there was no one around he didn't hesitate, he ripped the IV out of his arm, checked that the hallway was empty and went in search of some clothes.

Once dressed and completely overlooked by the hospital staff he went in search of his sister. Luckily, finding you wasn't very difficult, but it was a shock. You were lying on a bed, intubated and completely unconscious. If it wasn't for the rise and fall of your chest, Carter would have sworn you were dead. Your hair and skin were perfectly clean, as if you had been washed, and your clothes had been changed to a hospital gown.

With trembling hands, Carter grabbed one of yours, noticing the difference in temperature almost instantly. Carter knew it was normal for you to always find yourself at a lower temperature than the rest. You were always cold. But not this cold.

Carter's eyes started welling up with tears. He hated seeing you like this. His mind couldn't help but picture you 14 years ago, after Dorian ripped out your spleen. He imagined you lying in a bed just like this, full of blood as the doctors tried to stop the bleeding and close the wound.

All the times you had been seriously injured had been caused by those two demons. And Carter was sick of seeing the people he loved die because of their actions. So he pulled away from you, searched through your personal effects and took the demon-killing knife your mother had created.

Carter was going to finish them off once and for all and avenge his family.

But first, he had to do something.

Finding an unoccupied phone in the hospital had to be the most complicated mission he had ever had to accomplish. At least it tied with his escape from the mental institution. It wasn't until a shift change between nurses that Carter managed to sneak into one of the receptions to dial a number.

Before leaving you, Carter had made sure to write the number in the palm of his hand, as he couldn't risk forgetting it. A few rings later a man answered the call.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Singer. I'm calling from Oakland General Hospital. We have received a patient by the name of Sarah Singer." Carter spoke, trying to make his voice more gravelly.

On the other end of the line, Bobby frowned at that, thinking that maybe they were playing a joke on him or that it had been a mistake.

"Your phone number was on her emergency contact list." Carter added when Bobby didn't answer right away.

"Yes, she is my daughter." Bobby finally said. Carter sighed in relief. "Is she all right?"

"You better get here as soon as possible. She's in danger." Seeing that he could no longer pretend to be a random doctor or hospital receptionist, Carter used his normal voice to say the following words. "Don't say anything to anyone."

Before Bobby could ask anything, Carter ended the call abruptly.

There was nothing more he could do for you. He only hoped that with Bobby's company and the treatment of the doctors you could get better while he killed those demons and saved your family.

When you finally woke up you couldn't remember anything. Your body and head ached and in your throat a strange tube prevented you from breathing normally. You shifted nervously as you coughed, trying to get the tube out, but it wasn't until a nurse came into the room and removed it that you finally managed to breathe. Coughing one more time, you were finally able to observe the place where you were. The blue, white and almost lifeless color of the walls looked like the unmistakable colours of a hospital room and the gown on your body only confirmed your suspicions.

"The doctor will want to run some tests." The nurse at your side commented

"But she's going to be fine, isn't she?" A man on the other side of the bed asked. You frowned as you recognized his voice.

"She's awake. That's a great improvement." The nurse replied before shining a small flashlight in front of your eyes. Almost instinctively, you followed the light with a confused expression on your face. "Do you remember your name?" The nurse asked.

Totally clueless, you lifted your gaze to the man standing beside you. You knew him.

"I..."

"Come on, honey, tell her your name." Confused by the pet name Bobby called you and noticing his grip on your hand, a light bulb seemed to go off in your head.

Like flashes, the memories of the accident popped into your mind, reminding you of what happened.

"Sarah." You answered, looking up at the nurse. "Sarah Singer."

It had been a leap of faith to say that name, but from Bobby's presence there you assumed that had been the name Carter had told the doctors. It was the name your mother told you to use if something bad happened at home and you ended up alone.

"Okay." The nurse nodded. "How old are you?"

"24."

"Do you know where you are?"

"In a hospital. In Nebraska."

"And do you remember what happened?"

"There was an accident." You replied, looking up at Bobby, who nodded. "I needed a ride home. A guy picked me up on the road." You lied, turning your gaze back to the nurse and seeing a police officer standing by the door.

"That guy stole a car a few days ago in Salem. He took off once he woke up here at the hospital. They are looking for him." The nurse explained as she noticed your gaze on the officer. You nodded slightly.

"I didn't know him. He didn't tell me his name." You stated.

"I'll tell him that. You rest, okay?" You nodded silently as the nurse left the room.

A sigh of relief left Bobby's lips then. You coughed once again as you turned your gaze toward him.

"Where's Carter?" You asked.

Noticing your gaze on him, Bobby lifted his eyes to meet yours.

"I don't know. He called me to come get you. But..."

"I have to find him." You stated, cutting him off.

"Wait, wait." Bobby grabbed your arm seeing that you were about to get up.

"What?" You looked at him in confusion.

"The accident wasn't yesterday. It wasn't two days ago either. It's been two weeks."

Completely shocked, you blinked several times.

"Dean...?"

"He still has a week left." Bobby replied. "He and Sam are looking for ways to save him."

As reality hit you, panic began to overcome you. Fear, guilt, sadness. All those feelings were mixing with the imminence of the end of Dean's deal. You were supposed to go and find a solution, to save him. And yet you had ended up lying in a hospital bed for almost three weeks.

The hospital didn't want to let you out yet, but you insisted on signing a voluntary discharge. You needed to get out of that building as soon as possible. You felt trapped.

Bobby didn't know what to do or say. You hadn't spoken to him since he had given you the news. You had barely spoken to anyone except to ask for that voluntary discharge.

Bobby had already experienced a similar situation with Laurel. He had known your mother for many years. Carol and Doug Halliwell's only daughter had been orphaned at a very young age, leaving her in under the care of her Aunt Abby, a young hunter Bobby knew quite well. After the incident at the summer camp in Salem, when Laurel was just 15 years old, Bobby had been the one who had stayed by her side during her recovery while Abby investigated what had happened.

That camp had cost Laurel everything. Her two friends, only one of whom she'd been able to get back with a demon deal. And her Aunt Abby, who had died putting down the ghost that had caused it all. Bobby was just 11 years older than her, but had been her only family for the next three years, until Laurel and Henry met in college.

Now, at this very moment, Bobby felt responsible for you. In a way he felt he owed it to Laurel, but mostly to Abby. Even when Bobby didn't know anything about the supernatural back then, a part of him felt guilty for letting her go on that case all alone.

"Okay, what do we do?" You turned to look at Bobby once you were both inside his truck.

"Well..." Bobby looked at you, overwhelmed by your question as you watched him intently.

The defeat in your eyes had disappeared and had turned to determination. You weren't going to let anything get you down and stop you from helping those you cared about. No matter how bad you were feeling, mentally or physically. Just like the night of May 2, 94, you were going to fight to the end to save Dean.

"You can help me look for information to send them." He suggested.

"Yeah, that sounds good." You nodded, looking down at your bag. "I might as well give them my... Son of a bitch!" Your eyes widened at not finding what you were looking for. "Not you, Bobby." You clarified quickly, raising your hand toward him.

"What's the matter?"

"Carter. Carter's the matter." You replied. "He's taken Mom's demon-killing knife. What are we supposed to do now? Bela stole the Colt from Dean and Sam. They need something to fight Lilith with."

"They still don't know who holds Dean's contract."

"Oh, come on. It's obvious. She's the leader of hell. She's the one Ophelia and Dorian want to stop. It's her plans that they want to destroy to rule hell and all that. She holds the contract. If they find her, the deal is off." You said as you continued to search through her stuff.

"Is that what you and Carter were going to do, kill her?" Bobby asked, looking back at you.

"We didn't have a plan yet. But yeah, I guess we would have ended up going after her." You nodded, lifting your gaze back to Bobby.

"Okay. Any idea what your brother's up to now? Do you think he went after Lilith by himself?" He asked, starting the car.

"No." You shook your head. "Carter doesn't care about what happens to Dean. No. He's... He's probably going after Dorian."

Bobby's hands on the steering wheel seemed to tense at your words. He shifted his posture, trying to look like that didn't surprise him. But you knew him well enough.

"What? What's wrong?" You looked at him closely.

Bobby sighed, glancing to his left for a few moments before turning his eyes back to the road ahead. "Dorian was after Maddie and Peter the last time I talked to them."

"What?" Your eyes widened.

"Your father managed to catch Ophelia a few weeks ago. Apparently she ordered Dorian, and I'm quoting here, 'kill the younger one', in a phone call before your father caught her." Bobby explained.

You blinked a few times, remembering something.

"Wait a second. How do you know all this? You never met Carter." You pointed out, confused.

Bobby sighed.

"I met your mother when she was barely 15. I met Carter the day he was born."

"I thought that... My father said he met you at an oral presentation on supernatural stories that the University of Kansas was holding."

"Your father says a lot of things." Bobby sighed with a slight tone of irritation in his voice that didn't go unnoticed.

"So you've known everything all along? About Mom, Carter, Dorian..."

"Henry made me promise not to say anything. And, honestly, I thought it was for the best. Laurel would have never wanted you guys to become hunters. Yes, she trained you and Carter to defend yourselves and she wanted you to know as much as possible, but not to go out looking for supernatural cases. After her death and seeing the circumstances of it, I didn't question Henry's decisions because they were all intended to keep you safe and fulfill Laurel's wishes."

"You let him lock Carter up?" You looked at him in disbelief.

Bobbie shook his head.

"Henry told me that Carter had died that night. That he had had to kill him."

"Just like you had to kill Karen." You recalled.

"Yes." The man sighed, remembering his late wife.

"God. Every time I find out anything about my parents' past or mine it's all lie after lie after lie." You ran your hands over your face, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Since the beginning of the Halliwell family it's all been deals with demons and lies. All to gain power or..."

"Your father was trying to protect you." Bobby cut you off. "You and your brothers are the most important thing to him. The only thing he has."

"He doesn't seem to care much about Carter, does he?" You looked back at him, annoyed.

"I know you've had to carry that secret for almost 15 years. You and he being the only ones who knew what had happened that night. But when your father told me everything, and I mean everything, he was very clear that his decision to lock Carter in that place was to keep him safe." Bobby explained. "He knew Dorian wouldn't give up and that place was protected against demons. Henry only wanted to buy time, to find a solution to save you from Ophelia's and Hell's plans. He regrets many things, but never making the deal that allowed your mother to get pregnant. Even with all the consequences, you and your brothers are the greatest gift he ever had. And he would make that deal all over again just to have you."

Feeling the tears in her eyes, you were silent for a few seconds as you took in Bobby's words.

"He thought he'd find a way out, a way to renege on that deal and save us. But he hasn't found it." You spoke, looking back up at Bobby.

"Not yet."

"Even if he did. I think there are so many deals in our family that... it's already impossible to understand what was asked for in each one. Our fate is written."

"Unless you kill Lilith." He pointed out.

"And if we kill Lilith..."

"We save Dean." Bobby completed, meeting your gaze.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

To your surprise, the first night at Bobby's house passed peacefully. You soon fell asleep in the guest room while Bobby began to read and search for information to help Dean. You wanted to help him, but the pain in your body and the medicines you had been given had left you exhausted. For the first time in months no nightmares haunted your deep, restful sleep. It was like coming home, safe and warm.

The next morning Bobby greeted you in the kitchen with a nice cup of coffee and pancakes.

"You destroyed Ophelia's magic book, but your mother was a witch, magic is in your genes, it's not gone." Bobby stated, placing a heavy and old book on the table. With the cup pressed to your lips, you lifted your gaze to his. "Dean and Sam talked about an explosion of light when you stuck the knife in the book. I think that wasn't just Ophelia's magic breaking and disappearing from it forever, but also sealing your magical heritage."

"You're saying that Peter, Carter and I are still witches?" You raised your eyebrows.

He nodded.

"There are many kinds of witches. Your father's deal to have children, Ophelia's magic being passed down generation after generation through your maternal family's blood... I think you're pretty powerful."

"What does my father's deal have to do with it?"

Henry had told Bobby everything. But it was clear from the confused look on your face and your question that he hadn't told you everything.

"When your father made the deal so your mother could get pregnant he... accepted the condition the demon asked for in return."

"What condition?"

"She told him that if he wanted to have children he had to accept that those children would never be completely his. That those children would always be part of a greater plan." Bobby explained. "Your father hesitated to close the deal when he heard that. Until the demon assured him that once you fulfilled your part of that plan, you would be free." Seeing the look of disbelief in your eyes, Bobby sighed. "Yeah, I wouldn't have made the deal either."

You sighed. "Melinda was selfish when she begged a witch for help in conceiving a baby. And my father was just as selfish to agree to such deal with a demon. You can't have children, deal with it, adopt a baby with no family. But... make them bear the burden of a demon plan?" You stood up, frustrated. "We're doomed."

"Not if we kill Lilith." Bobby pointed out.

"You don't know that. We don't know anything. I'm pretty sure the world would be a lot better off if Carter, Peter and I simply died."

"I wouldn't be. And I'm sure your father and a lot of other people wouldn't either."

"Like who? Dean?" You raised your eyebrows. "I'm pretty sure Dean must hate me right now."

"That I don't know." Bobby sighed. "I'm not going to pretend I understand what's going on in his head. But if I do know him, and I think I do a little bit, he'll forgive you."

"If I can save him, maybe." You shrugged. "What was your idea?"

"We need to find Lilith." Bobby pointed to another book. "And I think you can do it."

"With magic?" You raised your eyebrows.

"With a little spell, yes." He nodded. "But first you should know what kind of witch you are."

"Good." You said firmly. "I think. I hope."

Bobby smiled, letting out a small laugh. "That's not what I meant."

"And what did you mean?" You frowned.

"There are different types of witches. Those who borrow power from other sources, as in a demon deal. There are the students and..."

"Naturals."

"That's right." Bobby nodded. "You're a natural. As much as the power came from another source in the first place, it's in your blood now. A Legacy to be more specific, at least that's what your parents named them." He pointed, opening a page of the book.

"Wait. This... This book was written by my father?" You asked, taking it in your hands to look at the cover.

"The first of them all." Bobby nodded. "He and Laurel wrote it together."

"I'd never seen it before."

"They only wrote one copy. Laurel gave it to me shortly before she died. She told me if you ever need it that I'd be sure to give it to you."

"Why wouldn't she leave it to my father?" You looked back at him.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Perhaps she feared that his desire to protect you would prevent him from doing so."

"So, this book, it's about witches?" You frowned as you turned the pages. Bobby nodded.

"It's more like a diary. It describes the experiences of your mother and some of the other witches in your family whose journals and notes she inherited from her Aunt Abby."

"And what do you want me to do with it?"

"Technically we can all do rituals and summon ghosts or demons. With the right ingredients and words, anyone can do it. With exceptions, of course. But your mother wanted you to learn how to use your powers and I think this is a good opportunity for you to start studying."

"Oh, great. More studying." You sighed, giving him a sarcastic smile. "Bobby, you sure know how to make me feel at home."

"I've looked for all the things you might need listed in the book. They're all in a box in the living room." Bobby informed.

"Thanks, Bobby." You gave him a kind smile as you took the book in your hands.

The next few days, you spent practically locked in your room. Trying different simple spells to practice your magic and powers. Few were the ones you managed to finish and receive a productive result out of them. Most of them being not very useful spells.

Bobby and you hardly ever met except for meals, where you didn't exchange many words either. As each of you were focused on your own research. All in the name of saving Dean from ending up in hell.

It wasn't until the last day of April that something changed. You noticed it as soon as your eyes opened that morning. Distinct voices echoed through the house coming from downstairs. At least three distinct voices that you could make out, and all three male.

"She's doing what?" Dean's eyes widened as he heard Bobby's words. "How could you let her do that? That magic is dangerous. Even that demon, Ophelia, told her that the moment she tasted a hint of the power she could get out of control and become addicted to it."

"I didn't let her do anything." Bobby corrected. "It was her choice, Dean. She's an adult."

"I know she's an adult." He scoffed.

"It's what her mother would have wanted."

"I don't care what her mother would have wanted."

"She's doing it for you, Dean."

"Actually..." All three pairs of eyes fell on you as you spoke, watching as you descended the stairs. "I'm doing it for myself." You looked back at them.

Okay, maybe that wasn't entirely true. While you were doing it to get revenge for your mother's death and to protect your family, your little brother more specifically, a big reason you had decided to try out your magic was also to save Dean.

"I'm sorry I left like that. I thought it was the best way to help you." You fixed your eyes on Dean's.

"And instead you ended up in a hospital." He pointed out, turning towards you.

"You told him?" You looked at Bobby in disbelief.

"He didn't have to." Dean answered for him. "Carter called me last night."

"Carter called you?" You raised your eyebrows. Dean nodded.

"Yesterday. He told me Dorian had been after Peter and Maddie." Seeing your worried look, Dean was quick to reassure you. "They are fine, but Carter was worried about you."

You sighed with relief as you sat at the bottom of the stairs, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart at the possibility of Peter being in danger. Neither of them said anything, keeping silent while you pulled herself together. Just as they were about to leave you alone and go to the kitchen to continue their conversation, you jumped to your feet and walked toward Bobby's study.

"I know how to find Lilith." You announced as you opened a map of the states on the table. "I've been trying to find her the last two days, but my powers weren't working."

"You think they would work now?" Sam asked as they followed you.

"It's worth another try." You sighed, placing an old tracking device over the map.

It was a small device that had three wooden "legs" coming out from a glass or crystal ball at the top. The ball has a flat, metal piece going around it with symbols on it. Further down the legs there was another metal piece, only bigger. From the ball hung a pendulum sharp on the end so that it can pinpoint a specific place.

"With the right name, right ritual, ain't nothing you can't suss out."

"Like the town Lilith's in?"

"Oh, Sammy, when I get done, we'll know the street." You assured him with a smirk.

Startled by your new and unexpected confidence, Sam and Dean shared a quick look while you began the ritual. Looking back at you, Sam and Dean watched as the pendulum searched over the map until it came to a sudden stop.

"It worked." You opened your eyes in awe.

"New Harmony, Indiana." Bobby read the map. "And we have a winner."

"Alright." Sam pushed the pendulum away and looked at you. "Let's go. "

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on." Dean tried to stop him. "Let's all shut up there, Tex."

Sam looked back at him full of confusion.

"What's the problem?"

"What's the problem?" Dean looked back at Bobby and you before continuing. "Come on, where do I begin? I mean, first of all, we don't even know if Lilith holds my deal. We're going off of Bela's intel? Now when that bitch breathes, the air comes out crooked. Okay. Second, even if we could get to Lilith, we have no way to gank her. And third, isn't this the same Lilith that wants your giant head on a pike? Should I continue?"

"Ain't you just bringing down the room." Bobby said.

"Yeah, well, it's a gift."

"What are we supposed to do, Dean?" You spoke, gaining his attention.

"Just 'cause I gotta die doesn't mean you have to, okay. Either we go in smart or we don't go in at all." He stated.

"Okay, fine." Sam sighed. "If that's the case I have the answer."

"You do?" Dean looked back at him.

"Yeah. A sure-fire way to confirm it's Lilith and a way to get us a bona fide demon-killing ginsu."

Almost as if he could read his mind, Dean began to shake his head. Somewhat in disbelief that his brother would even think of such idea.

"Damn it, Sam, no."

"We're so past arguing. Dean, I am summoning Ruby." Sam stated.

"The hell you are! We have enough problems as it is."

"Exactly." Sam walked up to him. "And we've got no time and no choice either."

"He's kinda right." You whispered but you were loud enough for Dean to hear you and scoff in response.

"Come on guys, she is the Miss Universe of lying skanks, okay." Dean said. "She told you that she could save me, huh – lie. She seems to know everything about Lilith but forgot to mention, oh right – Lilith owns my soul!"

"Okay, fine. She's a liar. She's still got that knife." Sam argued.

"Dean." Bobby tried, but he didn't listen to him as he exclaimed.

"For all we know, she works for Lilith."

"Then give me another option, Dean. I mean, tell me what else." Sam pleaded him.

"Sam's right." You spoke, walking towards Dean.

"NO! DAMN IT!" He snapped.

You took a step back at his reaction while Bobby looked at him, surprised.

Noticing the tension and the bad reaction he'd had, Dean took a deep breath before speaking again, this time calmer.

"Just no. We are not gonna make the same mistakes all over again." They looked at him, shocked. "You guys wanna save me, find something else."

The three of you looked at him as he walked to the table and sat down with a contemplative look on his face. As Sam and you shared a look, sighing, Bobby grabbed his jacket.

You looked back at him.

"Where are you going, Bobby?" You asked.

"I guess to..." He started, throwing out his arms. "...find something else."

Keep Reading: Chapter Fifteen

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[landofanimes]

Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon - The (NEW) Super Live

US Tour in 2025 from March 12 to April 26

Following the London, UK performances in February/March 2025, the new production of The Super Live has been confirmed on US soil.

Starting in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, the tour will visit a total of 12 states and 18 cities including Seattle and Chicago, ending with two dates on New York.

Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon: The Super Live will be performed in Japanese with English subtitles.

The cast will be announced at a later date.

Comment:

Notice this show will be different from the previous iteration of The Super Live since new people are in charge of script, lyrics, direction, choreography, and music.

Sailor Moon stage musicals have been previously in the United States in 2017 (pocket version of Amour Eternal in Austin, Texas), 2019 (The previous Super Live in Washington and New York), and briefly in 2022 (when a Super Live team performed a song during Japan Day @ Central Park, NYC).

Also yes, they called it "North American Tour" but only announced United States cities, don't blame me!

Check out the tour dates:

March 12, 2025 Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania - Byham Theatre

March 15, 2025 Austin, Texas - Bass Concert Hall

March 18, 2025 San Antonio, Texas - Majestic Theatre

March 19, 2025 Sugar Land, Texas - Smart Financial Centre

March 25, 2025 Seattle, Washington - Paramount Theatre

March 27, 2025 Spokane, Washington - First Interstate Center

March 29,2025 Portland, Oregon - Keller Auditorium

April 1, 2025 Dallas, Texas - Winspear Opera House

April 3, 2025 Midland, Texas - Wagner Noel Performing Arts Center

April 6, 2025 Minneapolis, Minnesota - Orpheum Theatre

April 8, 2025 St. Louis, Missouri - The Fabulous Fox

April 11, 2025 Dayton, Ohio - Schuster Center

April 13, 2025 Louisville, Kentucky - The Kentucky Center

April 15, 2025 Chicago, Illinois - Chicago Theatre

April 16, 2025 Milwaukee, Wisconsin - Riverside Theatre

April 18, 2025 Newark, New Jersey - NJPAC

April 22, 2025 Philadelphia, Pennsylvania - Miller Theater

April 25-26, 2025 New York, New York - Palladium Times Square

[handeaux]

Do You Hate Daylight Saving Time? You Can Blame Cincinnati Busybody E.H. Murdock

It’s that dreaded week following the annual “spring forward” as we turn our timepieces toward Daylight Saving Time. Having lost an hour, our weary brains endeavor to recalibrate our circadian rhythms while our biological clocks wail in agony. Who is the idiot who devised this semiannual torture? Cincinnatians have one of our own to blame. His name was Edward H. Murdock.

Mr. Murdock was the president of the Queen City Printing Ink Company, known as “The Oldest and Largest Printing Ink Works in The West,” with branches in Chicago, Boston and Philadelphia. Around 1907, he vacationed in England and was impressed by the long summer days enjoyed by inhabitants of that sceptered isle. According to the Cincinnati Post [20 May 1909]:

“‘That set me to thinking,’ says Murdock. ‘And it came to me all at once that what we lacked geographically we could make up by freedom from the slavery of the clock. I thought of all the objections to the idea I could think of, and found that they wouldn’t hold water.’”

Although Murdock claimed credit for the idea, he had vacationed in England just about the time that nation was debating Daylight Saving at the instigation of prominent builder and outdoorsman William Willett. Without mention of Willett, Murdock had some circulars printed up extolling his idea – essentially to adjust clocks by two hours from May through September – and plopped them onto the lobby desk of the Business Men’s Club. Murdock’s name appeared nowhere on the document, and he bided his time as discussion flowed out of the clubrooms and into the newspapers. After a week or so of speculation about the origin of the circulars, Murdock stepped out from behind the curtain to form the National Daylight Association. Within a month, his organization sent a delegation to Washington where they got the support of President William Howard Taft. The Cincinnati Post was enthusiastic:

“In two weeks an Idea that started in the brain of a Cincinnati man has grown into the biggest single national thought of the moment; it is gaining more popular discussion than the tariff; newspapers are writing up and making funny pictures of the Idea; the President and his Cabinet are thinking about the Idea very seriously; knockers are trying to find flaws in the Idea and find themselves on a futile job, and nearly everybody else is wondering why nobody in the United States ever before thought about turning the clock back two hours and getting two more hours of daylight out of a summers day.”

To be honest, other people had thought about something very close to Murdock’s idea. As early as 1784, Ben Franklin satirically proposed a system along the same lines. He didn’t take the idea seriously and neither did anyone at the time. None of Murdock’s predecessors had inspired a national debate on the matter.

Once Murdock’s idea got national traction, the response was far from universally positive. The Catholic Columbian, diocesan newspaper of Columbus, Ohio, deplored the entire concept [23 July 1909]:

“This is an absurd piece of legislation, which is certain to fail for want of observance on the part of the people. The daylight-saving movement is a fad and a fallacy. It is bound to come to an untimely end.”

According to the Catholic Columbian, the measure was unnecessary, confusing, useless and – most notoriously – an importation, and the Catholic Columbian would have nothing to do with a plan that originated in England.

Likewise, Watson’s Jeffersonian Magazine [September 1909], after eviscerating the English Daylight plan, went after Cincinnati’s initiative:

“The ludicrous imitators in America, styling themselves the National Daylight Association of Cincinnati, would do well to agree among themselves to get up before day, but to let the American public have its breakfast at just about the same time it has been accustomed to for some several hundred years.”

There were some heavy-duty supporters of the Daylight Saving idea, including the esteemed Journal of the American Medical Association:

“In a word, we have very probably in this movement for prolonging the usefulness of daylight one of the most important hygienic ameliorations that can now be made for all classes of people. Doubtless the working classes would benefit even more than most others because, while their fatigue requires them to go to bed early, the activity of life around them often seriously disturbs their sleep during the hours before midnight which should be so precious. Let us hope that so simple and efficient a means of lessening one of the unhygienic tendencies of our day will receive the consideration it deserves.”

The Kansas City Star congratulated Cincinnati on a useful and easily effected benefit, noting that, if adopted nationally, the new time system would require no major alterations to railroad or factory schedules. The St. Louis Post-Dispatch suggested, because Cincinnati had so recently installed the first lighting system in the nation for its major-league ballpark, the Daylight Saving plan was just a ploy to get more fans into the stands for night games.

Despite the national attention, Mr. Murdock’s idea never got more than local traction and wasn’t adopted for quite some time. Among the reasons for ignoring Daylight Saving Time was the chaotic nature of time itself in the United States. For decades, the only official time was “sun time,” which meant that every city and town in the country had its own local time. Noon in Cincinnati was several minutes later than noon in Cleveland, which was quite a bit later than noon in New York and so on.

A huge innovation arrived in November 1883, when almost all North American railroads adopted a standard time system. Under this system, Cincinnati was placed in the Central Time Zone. "Railroad Time" was 22 minutes slower than "Cincinnati Time." Detroit was 28 minutes fast while Indianapolis was 10 minutes slow. Louisville was 18 minutes fast and St. Louis was one minute slow.

If you had anything to do with the railroads, you might have adopted “Railroad Time,” but most Cincinnatians stuck with “Cincinnati Time.” Hotels, in particular, scheduled employees on “City Time” and served guests on “Railroad Time.” The switch to Daylight Saving Time, then, did not require federal approval; Cincinnati City Council adopted the idea in 1909, but declined to actually implement the measure. It took World War I and efforts to conserve candles and coal that led to a wartime national adoption of Daylight Saving Time. National (mostly) implementation of Daylight Saving Time did not occur until 1966.

[mepuppy]

Let It Ride - Supernatural rewrite

A.N.: I do not own the characters, nor the storylines. I'm simply adding a twist to the episodes. Please feel free to help me out with constructive criticism on the story or the writing. Sorry for the mistakes, not proofread and english is not my first language. Sorry for not posting yesterday, I had a little moving day because I'll be spending the next 3 months in another state for work. But here it is, I hope you like it!

1x01 1x02 1x03 1x04

Word Count: 7.1k

1x05 - Bloody Mary

“Sam, wake up.” Sam jolts awake and looks at his brother on the driver seat of the Impala looking at him concerned. Y/n is on his window with a hand still on his shoulder, from trying to wake him up. The large building in front of the parked car tells him they arrived in the hospital in Toledo, Ohio, where they found a possible next case.

“I take it I was having a nightmare.” Sam looks between the two older hunters.

Y/n nods “Yeah, another one.”

“Hey, at least I got some sleep.” He gives Dean a small smile.

“You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.” his brother replied sternly

“Are we here?” Sam tries to change the subject.

“Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.” Dean tells him and gets out of the car. Y/n gives Sam space to do the same. He grabs the newspaper with the obituary they circled earlier  from his pocket.

Shoemaker, Steven

The Shoemaker family is sad to announce the sudden death of their beloved husband and father Steven Shoemaker. Steven was 46. A short service will be held on Wednesday, [...] 31 at 2:00 p.m. at the Toledo [...] and cherish you [...] Your [...]

“So what do you think really happened to this guy?” Sam looks at the two in front of him.

“That's what we're gonna find out.” Dean says turning around and heading inside. “Let's go.”

The trio walks into room 144, marked Morgue. There's two desks. The empty one has a nameplate that says Dr. D. Fejklowicz and y/n tries to memorize the name. The table has the morgue technician. “Hey.” the man looks up at them.

“Hey.” Dean replies and smiles at him.

“Can I help you?” he asks when noone says anything.

“Yeah. We're the, uh… med students.” Dean replies after a quick glance at Sam and y/n.

“Sorry?” the technician asks, frowning.

“Oh, Doctor…” y/n tries to save but the name was complicated “...Figlavitch didn't tell you?” she tries knowing she got it wrong, but keeps going “We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State.” she smiles fondly at the man sitting down “He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper.”

“Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch.” the man tights his lip in a false smile and points with his thumb to the other desk.

“Oh well he said, uh...” she looks quickly at her best friends and back at him

“Oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?” Dean tries.

“Sorry, I can't.” he simply says and looks down at the magazine he is reading. “Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want.”

“An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then.” Dean looks at y/n with a concerned expression.

“Yeah.” she agrees.

“Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out…” Dean tries one more time looking back to the man.

“Uh, look, man...no.” the technician sits up, putting the magazine down, and stares at Dean.

Dean laughs a little, turning around and mumbles to Sam and y/n. “I'm gonna hit him in his face I swear.” 

Y/n puts her hand on Dean’s arm and pushes him out of the way a little. Sam steps in front of them and opens his wallet pulling out some twenties. He lays a few of them, at least five, down on the technician's desk. He picks up the money and gets up. “Follow me.”

 Dean grabs Sam when he tries to follow. “Dude, I earned that money.”

“You won it in a poker game.” y/n retorts and passes between the two following the morgue technician.

“Yeah.” he replies but Sam already followed her and Dean is alone. He goes after the rest of the group.

“Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding.” Sam states when the man pulls back the sheet over Steven's face.

“More than that. They practically liquefied.” he tells Sam and the trio looks at the corpse’s face.

“Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?” Dean asks, going to the side of  the table.

“Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone.” the man answers.

“What's the official cause of death?” y/n looks at him with curiosity.

“Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure.” the guy says as he motions to Steven’s head.

“What do you mean?” Sam looks back at the dead man.

“Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen.”

“The eyes. What would cause something like that?” y/n asks him with her eyebrows knitted.

“Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims.” 

“Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?” Dean looks at the man.

“That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor.” he laughs humorlessly.

“Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh… our paper.” Dean asks him.

“I'm not really supposed to show you that.” the guy looks back at Sam who  pulls out his wallet again looking annoyed.

The man takes them back and shuffles through his desk pulling one folder out and hands it to Sam. He opens it while the man sits back down and reopens his magazine. Dean and y/n go to each side of Sam and look at the papers with him.

After some time, they give the folder back to the technician and head out. “Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing.” Sam says as they start climbing down the stairs.

“Yeah, but how many times in John’s long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?” y/n looks over her shoulder at him without stopping.

“Uh, almost never.” he replies.

“Exactly.” Dean agrees and they head out of the door going to the vehicles.

“All right, let's go talk to the daughter.” Sam says entering the Impala when Dean and y/n go to their respectives driving seats.

When they arrive at the house the funeral is still happening. There is a picture of Steven on the desk. The attendees are all men in black suits and women in black dresses, except the trio.

“Feel like we're underdressed.” Dean jokes when they walk in looking around. They keep going through the house towards the back. They ask a man about Donna and Lilly, Steven’s daughters, they are sitting with their friends.

“You must be Donna, right?” Dean asks when they get close enough. Dean and Sam get to the circle first and y/n see one of the friends eyeing the two hunters with interest, making the woman roll her eyes.

“Yeah.” The girl with the shorter hair says.

“Hi, uh… we're really sorry.” Y/n tells her making the 

“Thank you.” she replies.

“I'm Sam, this is Dean and that's y/n. We worked with your dad.” As Sam tells the girls look at each other and Donna looks back at Sam.

“You did?” she asks incredulously.

“Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke.” Dean cuts in quickly.

“I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now” one of their friends says.

“It's okay. I'm okay.” she replies looking at her friend and smile.

“Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?” y/n questions the girl and she shakes her head.

“No.” the little girl by her side turns around facing them. 

“That's because it wasn't a stroke.” she states. The trio frowns.

“Lily, don't say that.” the older sister looks at her.

“What?” Sam asks.

“I'm sorry, she's just upset.” Donna tells them.

“No, it happened because of me.” the girl looks back at the hunters.

“Sweetie, it didn't.” her sister tries one more time. Y/n goes around the group and crouches in front of the girl.

“Lily. Why would you say something like that?” she asks worried.

“Right before he died, I said it.” the girl looks sadly at the hunter.

“You said what?” she questions looking in the girl’s eyes.

“Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror.” she says. Y/n pauses and looks at the boys “She took his eyes, that's what she does.” 

“That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault.” her sister puts her hand in Lilly’s shoulder.

“I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?” Dean goes close to her as well and stops behind y/n.

“No, I don't think so.” The girl looks up at him. Y/n gets up and turns around, realizing Dean is much closer than she expected.

“I’m sorry for your loss, again.” Sam says and turns to leave. Y/n and Dean stare at each other for a heartbeat and then follow him. Her heart is running a marathon, but she keeps her face straight as they enter the house and go up the stairs.

“The Bloody Mary legend… Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?” Sam pushes the bathroom door open. There is still some dried blood on the floor.

“Not that I know of.” Dean looks at y/n wondering if she remembers something, but she shakes her head denying it as well.

Sam stoops to the floor and touches the dried blood. “I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.” he looks up at the other two.

“Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening.” Dean says looking around the bathroom. 

“The place where the legend began?” Sam wonders out loud and gets up. Dean shrugs and y/n opens the medicine cabinet. “But according to the legend, the person who says B…” he stops short when he notices the medicine cabinet mirror is now facing him, and closes it “The person who says you know what gets it. But here…”

“Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah.” y/n finishes for him.

“Right.”

“Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out.” she eyes the mirror too.

“It's worth checking in to.” Sam says as they start going out of the bathroom.

“What are you doing up here?” One of Donna’s friends asks, stopping in front of them.

“We… we had to go to the bathroom.” Dean says and the other two look at him with slightly widened eyes in disbelief with the lie.

“Who are you?” the girl questions them.

“Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad.” Dean explains.

“He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself.” the girl retorts with both hands on her hips.

“No, I know, I meant…” he starts.

“And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming.” she looks at them, specifically to the two men, threatening..

“All right, all right. We think something happened to Donna's dad.” Sam raises his hands.

“Yeah, a stroke.” she adds.

“That's not a sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else.” y/n tells her.

“Like what?” 

“Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth.” Sam tells her.

“So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead.” Dean tells her, narrowing his eyes a little.

“Who are you, cops?” she asks them. The look at each other.

“Something like that.” Dean tells her.

“I'll tell you what. Here.” Sam reaches into his pocket, pulls out a paper and pen, and starts writing down his cell number  “If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary… just give us a call.” he hands her the paper as they walk down the hallway.

“All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof… Like a local woman who died nasty.” Dean says as they walk into a building.

“Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more.” y/n turns to enter the library.

“All right, so what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean looks down at her.

“Every version has a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search for local newspapers… public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.” she adds.

“Well that sounds annoying.” Dean looks back ahead.

“No it won't be so bad, as long as we…” Sam starts but he then sees the computers which all say ‘Out of Order’ on them and stops giving a light chuckle “I take it back. This will be very annoying.”

They check some files out and head back to the motel. At the motel, Dean went to check in and y/n hopped off the Harley grabbed her duffel, unbuckling it from the passenger seat, and went to Sam and the Impala. 

“202” Dean announced and motioned in the direction with his head. The two followed him. The room was simple, it only had two beds, no pull-out. So they would be sharing.

Growing up the way they did, sharing beds wasn’t something new. They would sleep in the same bed more often than not, as a matter of fact. They would alternate pairs (and sometimes, when John was away, one would have a bed for themselves). They even slept all three on the same bed when they were kids, but soon enough Dean was too big to share with other two, so they went back to pairs.

Dean entered first and dropped his papers on the table by the window. Y/n and Sam followed, each dropping a bag on one bed. “I’m going to grab some snacks, want anything?” Y/n asked the two brothers. 

“Mm-hmm” Dean answers but Sam only shakes his head. She leaves the room and follows the hallways until she finds a vending machine. Grabbing a turkey sandwich for Dean and cookies for herself she heads back to the room. They accommodate themselves, each on a different spot, and start reading different obituaries to try and find a Mary who was killed in front of a mirror.

“This is imp…” Dean starts but the woman shushes him.

She lowers the finger she had put in front of her lips. “Sam’s asleep.” She whispers. 

He looks past the bed she’s crossed legged on and spots a laying Sam with his eyes closed. “Good.” He whispers back.

“Yeah. How can he function so well with the amount of sleep he’s been getting is beyond me.” She turns back to look at Dean “18 years having a bad sleep routine and I’m still not used to it.” She rolls her eyes chuckling a little.

“At least you’re not too grumpy when you’re tired. Otherwise I would’ve murdered you and blamed on a werewolf.” He gives her an amused smile and she rolls her eyes, going back to read more obituaries.

After 20 minutes Sam jolts awake and looks around. The other two look at him “Why'd you let me fall asleep?” He asks passing his hands through his hair.

“‘Cause I'm an awesome brother. So what did you dream about?” He asks putting te file down.

“Lollipops and candy canes.” The youngest say sarcastically.

“Yeah, sure.” Y/n disapproves his scorn.

“Did you find anything?” He asks them

“Oh besides a whole new level of frustration?” Dean starts and Sam sits back up on his bed “No. we’ve looked at everything.”

“A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary.” Y/n says as she reads through the files on the side.

“Maybe we just haven't found it yet.” Sam falls back into the bed

“I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know...eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary.” Dean says looking over all the papers spread through the bed and table.

Sam’s phone rings and he answers it. “Hello?” He says and a concerned look crosses his face before he speaks again “okay, try to calm down we’re coming to you. Stay there!” He hangs up and looks up to Dean and y/n “It was Charlie, Donna’s friend. She’s at the park waiting for us. Their other friend is dead.” He explains getting up and the the other two already started putting their shoes back on to leave.

Already at the park Charlie is telling them about the phone call she had with Jill, the friend who died, right before her death “And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her… her eyes. They were gone.” She chokes.

“I'm sorry.” Sam says sitting by her side.

“And she said it.” Sam looks up at the two “I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?” She looks between the three hunters.

“No, you're not insane.” Y/n reassures her

“Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse.” The girls looks back down.

“Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained.” Sam starts trying to catch her attention back.

“And we're gonna stop it but we could use your help.” Dean tells her.

“Do you think you can get us to Jill’s bedroom?” Y/n asked hopeful.

“I think so. Can you guys get to a second floor window?” She looks at the woman.

“We’ll manage.” Dean reassures her.

The three hunters climbed to the roof from a tree and are waiting Charlie by the window she pointed at Jill's. She comes in from the bedroom door and locks it. Going over to the window and opening it. Sam enters first and Dean throws him a duffel bag, giving space for y/n to enter and following right after. Sam sets it on the bed and starts going through it.

“What did you tell Jill's mom?” Sam asks as he ruffles through the bag.

“Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things.” She answers as Sam pulls something out of the bag and Dean shuts the curtains. “I hate lying to her.”

“Trust us, this is for the greater good.” Y/n tells her and Dean goes to the interruptor and turns the lights off.

“What are you guys looking for?”

“We'll let you know as soon as we find it.” Dean answers her at the same time Sam stretched a digital camera to y/n.

“Hey, night vision.” He says and she turns the thing on for him and he hands her the camera.

She grabs the digital camera and it is aimed at Dean. He looks up and sees the camera. “Do I look like Paris Hilton?” Dean asks, turning a little and looking over his shoulder. She snorts and walks away slowly with the camera. She opens Jill’s closet door and begins filming around the mirror.

“So I don't get it. I mean… the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?” Sam turns to Dean and Charlie.

“Beats me.” Dean answers when y/n closes the closet door. “I want to know why Jill said it in the first place.” He turns to Charlie.

“It's just a joke.” Charlie looks up at him.

“Yeah well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time.” He says again and looks over at y/n who is in the bathroom filming around the mirror when she stops and sees trickles of something running out from behind the mirror.

“Hey.” She says and Sam and Charlie also turn to look at her “There's a black light in the trunk, right?”

She takes the mirror off the wall and carries it out to Jill's bed and lays it on the bed upside down. Dean comes over with a black light. Y/n peels off the brown paper that is on the back of the mirror. And Dean shines the black light over the back of the mirror and they see a handprint, and the words ‘Gary Bryman’.

“Gary Bryman?” Charlie asks the trio, making all heads snap at her.

“You know who that is?” Sam asks

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Okay. Let’s get out of here.” Y/n says taking the mirror again and putting it back in its place. Sam turned the light back on and Dean puts the camera and the light away on the duffel. They head to the window and get out again. Charlie closes it behind them and goes to the door. They walk slowly to the tree. Sam goes back first. Dean gives him the duffel and climbs down and then turns to help y/n down. “Oh. Thank you” she says smiling when she notices what he’s trying to do.

They go back to the bench. Dean and Charlie are sitting on it, y/n is standing up in front of them and Sam comes up behind her.

“So, Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy.” Y/n turns around startled with a hand on her chest “Sorry.” He smiles “Two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver.”

“Oh my God.” Charlie half whispers.

“What?” Sam asked at the same time y/n did:

“Did Jill drive one of those?”

“Yeah.” She looks to the woman.

“We need to get back to your friend Donna’s house.” Dean looks at Charlie.

“Linda Shoemaker.” Sam says as he turns the light off and stands up, putting the mirror back on the wall. 

“Let’s go talk to Donna.” Dean states and leaves the bathroom.

They all follow him downstairs where they found Donna in the kitchen.

“Hey, we need to ask you a couple of questions. Is that alright?” Y/n asks from behind Dean.

“I guess, sure.” She shrugs.

“Is Linda Shoemaker your mother?” The woman questions Donna

“Uhm, yeah. Why” she answers frowning.

“She died right? How was her relationship with your father?” Did they get in fights a lot?” Dean looks at her. 

“Why are you asking me this?” She inquiries.

“Look, we're sorry, but it's important.” Sam tells her

“Yeah. Linda's my mom okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it. I think you should leave.” She looks distressed.

“Now Donna, just listen.” Dean starts, trying to talk to her.

“Get out of my house!” She runs upstairs.

“Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?” Charlie asks the three hunters with a concerned expression.

“Maybe.” Sam replies.

“I think I should stick around.” She tells them

“All right. Whatever you do, don't…” but Charlie cuts Dean off before he can finish.

“Believe me, I won't say it.” She gives them a tight half smile and turns around to go after Donna. The three hunters leave the house. 

Dean’s sitting in front of a computer with Sam and y/n behind him. “Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?” Sam asks him when he sees what Dean is typing.

“Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database… at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me.” Dean answers as he scrolls.

“But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town.” He arguments looking between the back of Dean’s head and the screen.

“I'm telling you there's nothing local, we’ve checked. So unless you got a better idea…” he replies to his brother looking STV the screen.

“The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern.” Y/n tells them, standing behind Dean with her hands on his chair.

“I know, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean glances over his shoulder quickly.

“With mister Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run.” Sam thinks it over.

Y/n looks at Sam “Both had secrets where people died.”

“Right. I mean there's a lot of folklore about mirrors… that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them.” Sam keeps going.

“Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it.” Y/n tilts her head raising her eyebrows.

“Whether you're the one that summoned her or not.” Sam finishes.

Dean calls their attention to the screen “Take a look at this.”  He points to a picture of a woman lying by a mirror in a puddle of blood. He prints out another picture and hands it to y/n over his shoulder it is of a handprint and the letters ‘Tre’.

“Looks like the same handprint.” Y/n says looking at the picture.

“Her name was Mary Worthington… an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana.” Dean skimmed through the article.

The trio of hunters decided to go to Fort Wayne and try to talk to the detective that worked on Mary’s case. After an hour and 30 minutes with Dean on the wheel, they arrived at the city. 

 After some research they went to the detective’s house to talk to him.

“I was on the job for 35 years… detective for most of that. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder…” he pauses and looks at Dean, who’s in front of him “that one still gets me.”

“What exactly happened?” The oldest hunter asks.

“You kids said you were reporters?” He asks, looking up and down at the three, one at a time.

“We know Mary was 19, lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress.” Y/n starts by leaving the bookcase behind and joining Dean.

“And we know the night of March 29th someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cut out her eyes with a knife.” Sam continued.

“That's right.” the detective answered.

“See sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened.” Y/n explained to him and the older man went to a file cabinet and pulled some files from it.

“Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this.” He opens a file to the picture Sam and Dean found on the computer. “Now see that there? T-R-E?”

“Yeah.” Dean agrees.

“I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer.” He tells them.

“You know who it was?” Sam asks him getting closer.

“Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon… Trevor Sampson.” He pulls out a picture of a man and hands it to the hunters. “And I think he cut her up good.”

“Now why would he do something like that?” Sam questions.

“Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, ‘T’. Well, her last entry, she was gonna tell ‘T’’s wife about their affair.” He tells them looking up form the papers on the table.

“Yeah but how do you know it was Sampson who killed her?” Dean looks from the mirror picture to the detective.

“It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out… it was almost professional.”

“But you could never prove it?” Y/n half guesses.

“No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous.” The man explains and drops his eyes.

“Is he still alive?” Dean drops the picture on the table.

“Nope.” He sits down and sighs “If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could.” He looks up at the hunters who are side by side.

“Where's she buried?” Sam asks.

“She wasn't. She was cremated.” He frowns a little.

“What about that mirror” y/n nods at the one in the picture “It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere is it?” 

“Ah, no. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago.” 

“You have the names of her family by any chance?” Dean wonders. The detective pauses for a while and then started looking through the papers on the file handing them one.

They are heading back, after a while with the detective, and y/n is on her cell while Dean is driving and Sam is on the backseat, close to her phone “Oh really? Ah that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well maybe next time. All right, thanks.” She finishes and hangs up.

“So?” Dean asks glancing at her.

“So that was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo.” She looks at him

“So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?” He question again.

“Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow.” Sam leans back.

“Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?” She looks over her shoulder.

“Yeah there is. Yeah, when someone would die in a house people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped.” He answers her.

“So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit.” Dean complements.

“Yeah but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?” Sam wonders looking at his brother through the rear view mirror.

“I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it.” He replies

“Yeah, I don't know, maybe.” Y/n looks over to the front.

Sam’s cell starts to rings. “Hello.” The look of concern comes across his face “Charlie?” He pauses “Okay don’t look at anything that has a reflection and go to 5335 Heatherdowns Blvd and wait for us. We’ll be right there.” He hangs up and looks at Dean “It was Charlie, apparently Donna called bloody Mary on the school restroom and now Charlie is seeing her.”

“Why are adolescents so stupid?” Dea rolls his eyes and starts going faster.

Arriving at  the hotel they find Charlie sitting in front of their door with her hands around her knees and face deep on them. The get to her and Sam helps her get up guiding her to his bed,where she sits and Dean and y/n start covering every window and mirror on the room. After  covering, what they think is everything they look at each other and around, both spotting their reflections on the TV at the same time. Dean gabs anoter sheet and hands the woman one ennd and they cover the TV.

Sam, then, sitsnext to Charlie and says “Hey, hey it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, all right?” the girl lifts her head from her knees slowly “Now listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you.”

“But I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I?” shhe looks at Sam, her eyes filled with tears.

“No. No. Not anytime soon.” y/n tells her while putting a hand on her shouder while sitting on the end of the bed by thhe one Charlie is.

Dean sits next to y/n and looks at Charlie “All right Charlie. We need to know what happened.” 

“We were in the bathroom. Donna said it.” The girl starts but y/n cuts her off.

“That's not what we're talking about. Something happened, didn't it? In your life… a secret… where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?” she asks drpping her hand back to her own lap.

“I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said ‘Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.’ And you know what I said? I said ‘Go ahead.’ And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just… I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.” She puts her face back on her knees and starts crying again.

The three  hunters look at each other and then back to the girl.

Dean is driving the Impala, with Sam in shotgun and y/n on the backseat. “You know her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault.” he says looking at the road.

“You know as well as I do spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean. Charlie had a secret, someone died, that's good enough for Mary.” Sam looks at his brother.

“I guess.”

“You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror.” Sam continues.

“Why, what do you mean?” he asks quickly at the youngest.

“Well Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it.” he tells them.

“Well how do you know that's going to work?” y/n questions.

“I don't, not for sure.” 

“Well who's gonna summon her?” Dean wonders as soon asSam finishes.

“I will. She'll come after me.” Sam looks bac to the road.

“You know what, that's it.” Dean says and pulls the car over. “This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow?” he turns his body to half face his brother.

“Sam, this has got to stop.” y/n looks at him concernedd coming closer. “I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night.. it's gonna kill you. Now listen to me… It wasn't your fault.” she puts a hand on his shoulder to make her look at him but he doesn't.

“Exactly. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place.” Dean tells looking up and shaking his head.

“I don't blame you.” he then looks at his brother.

“Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done.” y/n tells him.

“I could've warned her.” he looks back at her.

“About what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway.” Dean says, but as he starts to turn back to the wheel Sam speaks.

“No you don't.” 

“I don't what?” Dean and y/n frown.

“You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything.” Sam looks at his hands.

“What are you talking about?” the woman with an anxious voice.

“Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?” Sam half smiles looking at them without turning his face.

The two expressions shift to surprise. “No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it.” Dean tells and finally turns back to the steering wheel.

“Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this.” he looks  at his brother, determined and shoots a glance to y/n on the backseat to make sure she doesn't try to argue too.

Dean huffs and starts driving again, mumbling complaints every now and then. Y/n spends the rest of the way looking at Sam with her eyebrows together, trying to come up with a plan where his life won't be at risk. The youngest hunter ignores them. When they arrive at the shop no one has  a better idea, so the plan remains the same. They get out of the car and grab a couple of crowbars, going to the entrance, where Sam gets down to pick the lock. 

Once Sam succeeds they enter and start looking around. At the back of the store they see many mirrors. “Well...that's just great.” Dean moans  as he pulls out the picture of Mary's dead body to look at the mirror “All right let's start looking.” he shows the other two the picture, holding a lantern over it so they can see it better. They split up and walk around the store “Maybe they've already sold it.” as Dean is finishing his sentence y/n's flashlight tops on the mirror.

“I don't think so.” she says and calls them over. Deann walks over to her and pulls out the picture again to compare. 

“That's it.” he sighs and looks at Sam “You sure about this?” Sam hands Dean his flashlight.

He sighs “Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary.” he looks at the other two who give him an unsure look back. Sam picks up the crowbar and holds it over his shoulder “Bloody Mary.”

Dean turns to see a light coming through the store windows and nudges y/n. “We'll go check that out. Stay here, be careful.” she instructs Sam who rearranges his shoulders and readies the crowbar again.

“Smash anything that moves.”  Dean and y/n go silently towards the front door. They see a headlight “Crap.” He puts the crowbar down and they begin to walk to the door.

The two leave the store together to talk to the police. “Hold it.” one officer says and they stop.

“Whoa guys, false alarm, I tripped the system.” Dean chuckles lightly but the police men remain unimpressed.

“Who are you?” another officer asks.

“I'm the boss's kid.” he smiles politely.

“You're Mister Yamashiro's kid?” the first cop questions. 

“I was  adopted.”Dean answers without hesitation, as he has been saying this his entire life. 

“And who are you?” one of them looks at y/n and shifts the gun a little.

“I'm his fiancé.” She smiles lovingly and holds Dean's hand.

“What do you guys need here?” the cop questions.

“My father asked me to grab some stuff for him.” Dean tells him.

“Can I see some ID?” the officer said and Dean grabs his wallet on the back pocket, handing the man his id.

“You're not Yamashiro.” the man raises an eyebrow.

“Like I said, I was adopted.” He lifts his hand asking for the id back.

“Yeah.” one officer says as another walks around to be on the two hunter’s back.

“You know, we just… I really don't have time for this right now.” Dean punches the cop in front of them and y/n turns and kicks the other on the stomach. They are now on the ground.

The two hunters  run back inside and as they getting closer they seeSam on the floor looking at the mirror. Dean grabbed the crowbar on the way in and goes through the mirror  as y/n goes to Sam.”Sam, Sammy!”

“It's Sam.” Sam tells her as Dean squats down by her side to look at him.

“God, are you okay?” “God, are you okay?” Dean asks and puts one arm on y/n back to steady himself as he cleans one side of the blood that came out of his eyes.

“Uh, yeah.” he answers, starting to get up.

“Come on, come on.” Dean and y/n pull Sam up. They begin to walk out, supporting Sam, until they hear some glass noise. They turn around to see Mary coming ou of the frame and crawling over the broken glass. Mary walks towards them and they fall to the ground. They all start bleeding from the face, but Dean reaches up and pulls over a mirror so that Mary is forced to see her own reflection. Mary starts choking to death and melts into a pile of blood. Dean throws down the mirror he held and it shatters.

“Hey Sam?” y/n calls him relaxing on the floor.

“Yeah?” he turns his head to look at her.

“This has got to be like… what? 600 years of bad luck?” she asks, looking at the ceiling and Sam chuckles weakly.

They went back to the motel and explained to Charlie she is safe, and Mary's gone. They grabbed all their stuff and Dean and Sam drove Charlie back to her house, with y/n following the car with her Harley. Arriving there Charlie gets out of the car and y/n opens  her helmet visor. “Charlie?” the girl turns around looking at thee hunter “Your boyfriend's death… it really wasn’t your fault. You should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it.” Charlie smiles faintly, then turns around to go into the house.

The bike pulls up to the driver's window, that is rolled down. Dean looks at her “That's good advice.”she smiles at him and he turns and lightly hits Sam “Hey SAM?”

“Yeah?”

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.” as Dean says it the woman on the bike lowers her head a little to look at the man too.

“Look… you're my brother and my best friend and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself.” Sam looks out the window and the other two look at each other, with concern in their eyes, and then back at the road. Dean drives off and y/n follows.

Taglist: let me knowif you want to be added or removed.

@stillhere197

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[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 17 "pusher" thoughts

this episode took a few days to work... and it built up the suspense! i tried to watch it on thursday- i was ready for my scullynmulder time- but it wouldn't play. and then i finally had time to try again yesterday, and it STILL wouldn't work.

(i had to go on reddit and learned that i needed to change a single number in a random string of code, because apparently a new firefox update just killed any ability to use hulu? the hoops i jump through for these two...)

but, i really enjoyed this episode! it had cute lil moments and then also some soul-crushing angst, which is the way i like it. so allow me to begin, and all of my note taking shall begin below!

YAYYYYY it’s scullynmulder time… my heart is so happy

so we open in a grocery store in virginia. it’s a nice looking grocery store. would browse there.

a guy is buying like a billion cans of stuff that has a muscle on it. and then a magazine with the freaky worm baby from s2 on it! haha a nice callback! again. shoutout to the props team <3

but then, the scene of tranquil grocery shopping was interrupted, as the guy with all the cans grabs the jacket of the guy in front of him- and it turns out the whole thing was a sting operation!!! guy who wanted his cans is referred to as “pusher”. the FBI has a TON of guys dealing with him. 5 cars full. wow! he must be very scary.

he’s in the back of the last car. and going on about this officer’s uniform color. 

he keeps saying cerulean over and over until somehow the guy driving the car stops seeing the big tractor trailer coming his way. and so when he drives straight ahead, he is immediately hit!!! is this some sort of hypnosis?

the intro was different again!! who do they think they are fooling by changing this?? not me!

mulder's office time. side note: it really is THEIR office as a collective. because we never see her at her desk. but anyway.

the police car’s driver died after hitting the tractor trailer that was magically invisible to him, but not before he unlocked the prisoner, pusher. pusher had confessed to contracted killings over two years that had been staged to look not like murders, if you catch my drift.

why would this otherwise great agent unlock this prisoner and also drive straight into a tractor trailer? a great question! one we can hopefully answer.

pusher had kept mumbling about cerulean until the driver ran into a truck for a business called cerulean. then he had written a clue at the scene of the crime! it says “nin or” which mulder flips backwards to read… ronin. ronin! i know that word!

mulder points out that this means a samurai without a master (nerd), and that this is the name of a… self defense magazine? so off to go read some magazines!

a young woman who we later learned is named holly brings them a big stack of the aforementioned magazines- maybe she's an archivist! maybe that should be my job!

she has a giant bruise on her face from getting mugged. mulder asks if they got whoever did this to her, and she says “do they ever? ….no offense” awww, holly, you're gonna make him sad. but seriously, poor girl, that is awful :(

she heads out, and scully is like, how did pusher do all of these killings? mulder says that he was probably utilizing the power of suggestion 

so they find an advertisement for someone “who solves problems” in all of the ronin magazines since 1994- which was when the murders started! a clue! with a phone number to go with it!

and in the ad were the letters OSU, which they thought meant ohio state but no! it’s a japanese word that means “to push”! gasp! it's definitely their guy!

(there was very conveniently a japanese to english dictionary on the shelf of the room where they were reading the magazines. i guess it's important to keep your language learning tools around in the FBI, but it was funny because all the other books looked like boring legal stuff)

they call the number, and it goes to a phone in virginia. mulder is in a car nearby and scully is there too, but she is sleeping. ON HIS SHOULDER!!!!

he lightly taps her face to wake her up and says “i think you drooled on me” and she quickly apologizes... NOOO DON’T BE MEAN TO HER!!! SHE’S SLEEPY 😭😭😭 awwwwww oh my HEART <3

(i need to scream real quick, because that was so precious. AHHHHHHHHHhhhhhHHHH)

((nah i'm never gonna move on from this actually. never never. the way he tapped her face.......... how she seemed so embarrassed.... the intimacy of falling asleep on someone's shoulder, how long he must have sat there trying not to make any sudden movements while still keeping his attention on the case........... i need to collect myself))

but then the phone rings back!!! they sprint sprint sprint and they pick it up… to someone asking if they are just going to sit there all night!!!! the pusher!!!

oh he’s creepy… he comments on how mulder “and his pretty partner seem awfully close”. now, is he invested in whatever the hell it is they have going on like i am (which is valid), or is he just a creep (less valid)? 

pusher seems to be a freak at least in some regards, saying that "they have to follow his breadcrumbs", and that the next one is right in front of mulder, who he keeps calling “g man”. he also says to let his fingers do the walking, which makes slim to no sense to me. 

but they figure that it means to call the last number on the pay phone, and it reaches a golf course! they hold the phone up so they both can hear the message and it’s so CUTE AWWW

mulder calls her “g-woman” as they leave <- STOP I’M GONNA SCREAM!!!

off to the golf course. where pusher is golfing with a very beat up face from the accident. he spots snipers hiding in the grass, mumbles that it is “about time”, and tries to get out. 

they have him cornered!!! but when he tells the dude with the gun on him to relax, he really does. and when pusher tells him to show him his face, he does. he knows the guy by name?!?

pusher tells this collins fellow to pour a ton of gasoline, which he does while crying. collins screams at the agents to stop him as he flicks on a lighter, but scully is fast and grabs a fire extinguisher, and mulder uses his jacket to induce a sort of stop drop and roll maneuver. huh, they really do work so well together!

a car horn is blaring, so mulder goes to see what is going on and it’s… a dude with his head on the horn. he says “bet you five bucks i get off”… it’s pusher! he was mumbling as if he was remotely controlling the dude who lit the flame... okay, weird.

mulder at da court. he is fidgeting as they question him about this pusher fellow and his 14 murders. mulder explains that he thinks pusher can talk his way into his victims hurting themselves, which is by far not the most outlandish thing we’ve heard on this television program, but the people in the court act like this is akin to spotting a unicorn, and scoff at mulder for proposing such a bizarre idea.

(usually i agree that mulder's ideas are bizarre, but this one seems entirely possible to me, with or without mind control. people can be talked into doing all sorts of things. mulder i am on your side and would not laugh at you like these fakes)

AND pusher had called and confessed to 14 murders, but his defense tries to write it off as a drunk prank call. while this is the most absurd thing we (both the viewer and the characters in court) have ever heard, and surely no one would ever believe it, pusher uses his mind power skills to get into the judge’s brain and make him be declared innocent.

pusher walks up to mulder and says he owes him five dollars. this dude majorly sucks.

cutscene to mulder practicing his aim. it’s pretty good!! he must be really unsettled by this whole situation to work on his marksmanship.

scully comes in (with the ear protection things on so mulder's firing doesn't blast her ears <3 queen of precautions) with more information on this pusher fellow. mulder starts reciting all the things he can guess about the pusher’s life, from his college to his military service to which branch and i'm thinking man, did he study up on this? is he that unsettled by this case? but ohhh yeah, mulder does profiling, seemingly very successfully.

but he didn’t know that the pusher applied to the FBI!!! and had flopped at the psych evaluation, where he had been ego-centric and lied and claimed to be trained by ninjas. mulder seems to think this could be true, but i don’t know if he knows the ninja lore and that they were not as historically common as media would make you think 💔

luckily, scully doesn't break this terrible news to him. man, this reminds me i need to get a good translation of the kojiki and the nihon shoki

(at this point i did a bit of a wikipedia rabbit hole into japanese medieval literature before remembering the plot at hand. focus!)

mulder says that they should have had enough evidence to at least get him in custody, and that the pusher “put the whammy” on the judge. to which scully deadpans “please explain to me the scientific nature of the whammy” <- HDHEJSNWJSKDMND i love her sooooo terribly. 

mulder is still thinking this guy was a ninja, but scully points out that if he could control people’s minds, why wouldn’t he be an FBI agent like he wanted? a very good point! well, maybe it’s a new skill, mulder posits.

he seems very frustrated that scully isn’t buying his mind control theory, but she makes it very clear she believes he is guilty of murder!!! they just need to figure out what went down. queen of communicating her logic. she won’t communicate her feelings though, but that's okay we can work on that in the future.

pusher at da FBI. writes himself a note that says “pass” and sticks it in his lapel, goes in and asks for computer records. the guard immediately gives it to him. and he waltzes in! 

no!! the poor girl with the bruised face from before, holly!!! he starts talking to her, and she gives him the keyboard to her super secret FBI computer. he asks for printouts and says he wants to hurt whoever did that to her face. hmm. well, maybe a little revenge on her behalf wouldn’t hurt...

but skinner is here! he heard an unfamiliar voice and walks in, asking if he can help this strange fellow. skinner realizes that he is up to no good, and grabs him, but the pusher convinces holly that skinner is the guy who mugged her!!! so she busts out her mace the minute that skinner manages to call for security and starts KICKING HIM??

things escalated very quickly there.

holly is in his office, apologizing profusely to skinner and whole bunch of other people for kicking the hell out of his face. scully is there too. okayyyyy, she’s moving up in the world, helping out when skinner gets attacked!!!! she is very calm about the whole thing though, which makes her a great choice, so she deserves it.

holly says that it was like the pusher was in her head, and she was watching herself do the things she did. creepy...

she’s crying, and skinner doesn’t honestly seem too mad about the whole thing. i would be very mad if one of my employees let a random guy have access to secret files and then pepper sprayed and kicked me, but clearly he understands something was afoot.

OH! scully agrees that it is the pusher’s persuasive powers that made holly attack him, even if she can’t explain why it is he can do that! wow! the evidence is undeniable, even if it is inexplicable!

the pusher left with mulder’s file… so now he knows where he lives. so they should have a sleepover at her place!!! and watch movies!!! <3 before they catch him ofc, because now that he was trespassing, they have him on hook for a crime

(sadly, i must report that no sleepover took place. but it would be nice to imagine that it did)

they go to the pusher's apartment to try and find him, and scully announces before she turns the lights on. okayyyy! giving everyone a warning.

something about her with a trench coat and a gun in investigation mode makes my stomach do flips. we don't have to unpack that right now. i just was very aware that it happened.

he left a movie on the tv, that scully immediately identified as svengali. hold on let me google something. okay, that is a book/movie about guy that uses mind control. fitting. a clue, perhaps…

and is she watching horror films on the regular to be able to identify the film after seeing like three frames….? love that for her <3

(wait, she did say before that the exorcist was one of her favorite movies! so this further proves that she is going to be seated for a spooky film <3)

mulder opens his fridge to find a million and a half of those protein cans from before. you think those are giving him psychic powers? hmm…

oh!!! scully found something in his cabinet: epilepsy medication!!! a clue, perhaps? i’m just gonna keep saying that about anything they find. so that means they know more about him, and that he will need medication, which could be a way to try and find him, because he’ll need to get more at some point probably… AND HE STARTED TAKING THE PILLS AT THE SAME TIME THE MURDERS STARTED!

mulder asks what can cause epilepsy late in life. her answers: head injury, neurological disease, a tumor…

mulder perks up because he thinks a tumor might give you psychic powers. which would be a bright side to an otherwise very dismal situation, i’m sure. 

she says that if he had a brain tumor, he would not be well enough to do all of these shenanigans- a very valid point. mulder responds with: maybe he isn’t well at all!! he was too tired to escape at the driving range, after all, and he had confessed to murders he had gotten away with… maybe he wants to go out in a blaze of glory!

huh. bold theory.

phone rings as this theory is proposed. and the pusher is in fact on the phone. he asks for mulder and scully, who are sitting next to each other on a bed with their heads close, listening in. it’s endearing. 

anyway, the pusher is going on and on with the dude on the phone named frank, saying he looks super unhealthy, and i get that they are trying to trace the call, but they also should know by now to not listen to a damn thing he says because of the mind control. but again, he could be offering a clue, so someone has to listen. agh! such a conundrum.

mulder says to hang up the phone, right as the pusher talks frank into having some sort of medical condition where his blood thickens (gag. gag gag gag bleurghhhh). mulder and scully are trying to get him to hang up the phone but he won’t, he keeps listening so they can get a trace on the call!! and then frank is dead.

scully’s trying to save his life, but mulder picks up the phone. the pusher says that he wants a real adversary, and he’s read up on mulder, who he deems worthy. okay just ignore scully at your own peril i guess...

scully realizes she can’t save frank :( and mulder is mad because he killed this dude for nothing!! but he says no no, all these people die by themselves. 

they trace him to near a hospital, where he must be getting regular treatment for his condition. they find his car outside. and he’s scheduled for an MRI.

mulder says he should go in by himself, so that no one else gets hurt. a bold choice...

he gets all suited up with a camera and some fancy equipment to go in, then he gives scully his gun, so he won’t shoot anyone even if the pusher uses his mind games on him. and then they hold hands for a second. and look into each other’s eyes. and i will sob like a baby. 

mulder is going into the hospital. scully is watching all of this from his fancy camera. the og live stream. 

we hear two shots fired; the pusher made the guard shoot the technician and then himself. scully sees the monitor and asks mulder to get closer. and he does indeed have a tumor…. and is dying, so he has nothing to lose. which makes him even scarier!

scully is begging him to get out of there. but he turns and scully sees from the camera the pusher holding him at gun point!!! she yells “god!” and then runs into action. oh you know it’s serious when the catholic is yelling the name of the lord as an exclamation….

scully putting on a bullet proof vest to go in there and save him😳oh wow… i am learning so much about myself

she goes in, tells the SWAT team to wait for a signal. everything is very very very tense as she makes her way into the hospital. so slowly. she finally comes to the right door, and pushes it open.

mulder is seated with the pusher in the room of a patient, while the two stare at each other. they’re both very sweaty, and pusher has a gun in his hand. the pusher is going on about martial arts and a fight to the death and stuff. he gives mulder the gun and says to pull the trigger, one pull with a one in six chance to kill him.

scully is suspicious because they are, again, in a hospital, which has pure oxygen, and who knows what could happen if he pulls the trigger? but despite her very logical warning, he does pull the trigger, right away, and nothing happens. 

but the pusher talks mulder into putting the gun against his own head. she is begging him not to do it, to listen to her, to get out of there together, and everything will be okay.

and despite scully’s best efforts, he DOES pull the trigger. no bullet this time, but she is FREAKING OUT that he did that. she yells, and that yell will probably haunt me forever, how furious and terrified she sounded to watch him do such a horrific thing.

and then he turns the gun on HER, she’s crying, telling him to fight this. terrified she's about to die at his hands.

(oh my gosh, i really hope he’s faking the mind control working on him, so he can turn the gun on the pusher at the last minute)

the pusher mentions that SHE SHOT HIM, he read it in his files, “PAYBACK TIME, SHOOT THE LITTLE SPY” <- OMFG???? this escalated SOSOSOSOSO fast????

he tells scully to RUN while he still has the gun pointed at her, but then once she gets out and pulls the fire alarm, mulder shoots him!!!!! he keeps clicking the gun over and over at him despite it being empty. and he looks so tired, handing the gun over to scully, holding his head in his hands. 

man, he must have been horrified, to have someone in his mind, making him try to hurt himself and hurt scully, watching her scream at him after he put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger, watching her cry as the gun was pointed at her, fighting for access to his own mind... and after he had left his gun with her, just to make sure he wouldn't hurt anyone, he found himself in this situation...... how he kept firing even after the single bullet had been shot, just to ensure that no one else would be hurt..... woah. there is a lot to unpack here about the lack of agency and losing loved ones and mulder's deepest fears.... i will be gnawing on this in my head for a while...

so, the pusher is on a ventilation system, and mulder is watching. scully enters and says he will never regain consciousness. apparently, he had been refusing treatment, refused to have the tumor removed even though it was possible. mulder says that it’s like she had proposed, he was a little man, and this finally made him feel big.

they linger long enough for me to wonder if they’re actually going to kiss, right in front of this comatose murderer, but she does something just as intimate: grabs his hand and says to not let this dude take up another minute of their time. we end with mulder taking one last look and leaving the room.

oh, this episode was GOOD. REALLY GOOD. the suspense was killer, the mind games were trippy, and these two. these two.

scully falling asleep on his shoulder? the fluff of an indulgent fanfic writer. but it REALLY HAPPENED. them holding their heads close multiple times to listen to the phone... the hand grab at the end. listening and trusting each other's wild theories.

this episode showed how well they work as a team, and it made me so happy. it felt in very sharp contrast to a few episodes before where they were not working together at all. and i get that was cosmic opposite day, but still, this episode and their dynamic felt so right.

and then at the end, the level of angst was unexpected. and honestly, they go through a LOT on this show, but scully seeing him held at gunpoint and then watching him pull the trigger on his own head made me lose my MIND. how she begged him to stop, pleaded and yelled, how she cried as he pointed the gun on her, him using every ounce of energy he had to try and resist mind control to keep her safe. and the minute she is away, he unloads the gun into the pusher, again and again and again despite knowing it was empty, just to be sure no other bullets could hurt anyone else. how exhausted he was when he sat down at the end, his head in his hands; how he watched him in his comatose state until scully told him they should leave.

(insert prolonged muffled screaming as a way to comprehend the feelings i am experiencing)

and a massive shoutout to skinner for showing up for 5 minutes, realizing there was a problem, addressing the problem, and not being too mad when the girl in the computer department beat his ass because he was sympathetic to her mind control quandary. really a solid fellow. skinner, you and i have had our disagreements in the past, but i have come to see you as a friend. now, do i trust him fully? no. but can he come to a birthday party? yeah <3

wow. just wow. a really great episode. definitely making it onto the best episodes list! i'm trying to make a mental list of all the ones that stick out as the most enjoyable, especially the ones that are single episodes rather than the larger two or three part ones, and this is a contender surely.

"please explain to me the scientific nature of the whammy"... how could you not love her?