#I found a word that rhymes with orange I’m done I’m going to kill God with it

[sirenqueenthefishandtheweeewoooo]

I found a word that rhymes with orange

OK it is way too early in the morning and I am having an existential crisis because everyone says nothing rhymes with orange but I found something that rhymes with fucking orange and oh dear God it is stupid if you want your sanity to stay intact I do not want you to read more!!!!!!!!

Orange rhymes with porridge

[aithrauniverse]

Chapter 6-Aithne

And just when I thought the first challenge was hard, the second one got worse. 

Yes, I did love the aforementioned physical education, and I was great at jumping over hurdles, but doing parkour on a bridge and a cliff wall?! Without our wings to, oh, I don’t know, help us fly?! 

Now, I wasn’t exactly the “safety first” kind of person, but this was insanely hard. And could potentially kill us. Thankfully, this was just a simulation. (Or at least I hoped it was. Wasn’t about to test that theory, though.)

The door swung creakily behind us, slamming shut and—disappearing?! Well, great, now we were trapped in the simulation with a cliff ten feet in front of us. (NOT HELPING, MS. FARRELL.)

Stepping forward, Astra calculated, “Well, on the bright side, if we fall, that's only a fifteen-foot drop. Without our powers of flight, best-case scenario, we break a leg. Worst-case scenario, we get flattened into pancakes. Hey, that kinda rhymes.”

Laila shook her head, “The best-case scenario doesn’t sound very good to begin with.” Then she looked up and stretched out her arm for yet another messenger bird to perch on. First she removed the parchment from the bird’s neck, then she ruffled the feathers around its neck softly. The bird cooed contentedly.

“Jeez, enough with the Disney Princess stereotypes, Laila,” I joked, “We won’t escape this maze by singing to birds.”

“...Very funny, Aithne; you hurt its feelings,” Laila responded. The bird hopped off Laila’s arm, and nipped me annoyedly on my neck before flapping away. Carefully untying the red ribbon, Laila unrolled the parchment with the instructions for this round and began to read them out,

“Round number two, don’t stop and freeze

Students, together, in your threes

Cross the bridge, but do mind this

If you fall in the abyss

That’s it, you’re done, out of the games

The prize no longer holds your names

But careful now, for things may be

Much higher than the eye can see

And one more tip before you leave

Make sure the three rings you retrieve

Don’t look straight at the eagles five

Or you’ll be sealed in ice alive.”

“Well, things just took a dark turn,” I inhaled sharply, breaking the silence. God, how were we going to do this?

“So, we need three rings,” Astra, who for some reason was wearing a completely calm face, said, “Where’s the first one— "

“Over there,” Laila interrupted, pointing towards a bar around ten meters away. Sure enough, tied to it was an icy blue ribbon, no doubt with the ring.

She stared at the bridge for a few moments before cartwheeling and flipping her way over the bridge, pirouetting as she retrieved the ring. (Ah yes, ballet. Proving useful for crossing dangerous bridges and flexing your skills ever since it was invented.) “There we go,” she grinned as she slipped it onto her finger, where it held fast. Well, that was quick.

“Now, for the next one,” I mused.

“Oooh, found it,” Astra exclaimed. We whipped our heads around before spotting the bright white ribbon, hanging precariously over the railing of the bridge, just about 34738492 miles away from where we were. She gingerly put each foot forward, hopping gently over the hurdles, sliding under the bars and putting her foot backwards whenever the wooden bridge creaked softly. At one point, she almost lost her balance, swiveling her arms, but she quickly grabbed onto the nearest bar for support. “Got it!” she cheered, deftly unwrapping the ribbon, and pulling out the ring.

“Two down, one to go,” Astra beamed. “No eagles, though... Maybe it’s a metaphor... for something else..." She started muttering some weird things under her breath, counting something off her fingers, and I rolled my eyes, turning around to look for the last ring.

Well, I didn’t see anything at eye level. Maybe the ring was higher up? I craned my neck.

Then I spotted it.

A strip of red cloth, tied at the top of what looked like a sheer face of I-couldn’t-climb-that-even-if-I-tried, caught my eye.

And as with my bad luck, it got worse.

There was a freaking nest next to it, which meant I would have to go up to the eagles. And probably freeze into a solid chunk of ice. And mess up my hair in the process. (What? It took me two hours to tie it. I know, I’m a noob.)

Astra looked sheepishly at me. “Laila and I got our rings, that’s yours.”

“Oh, who cares? Let’s just do this,” I grumbled, pushing my ponytail behind and rolling my sleeves up.

I jogged over to the wall. Grabbing onto the first rock, I sighed. There was no going back. “It’s just like rock climbing,” I whispered, giving myself a pep talk. “You can do this.” Turning around, I looked at Astra and Laila. Laila gave me a thumbs up. (At least it looked like she was doing that with her thumbs. It was hard to tell from such a distance.) I nodded my head and began to climb.

Ten minutes and a lot of grunting and effort later, I made it to the top. (Training with the local rock-climbing team really helped me for once.) Turning down, I waved my arms back and forth, hoping the other two girls could see me. I probably looked like a fool, but who cared. At least they would be able to tell that I was still there.

Now, to face the bigger challenge.

Hoisting myself up, I grunted. Now I was in front of an eagle nest. And sure enough, the red cloth was in front of me. Untying it, I quickly pulled out the ring and put it on. Well, that was quick. Dusting my pants off, I pushed myself into a standing position.

But then I made the mistake of looking up.

My eyes met with two cold black slits, nested (Hah! See what I did there? Never mind, that was a terrible joke.) in rings of hard yellow. Wait a minute. I think... I had just broken the same rule the stupid instructions told me not to break. I had looked straight at one of the eagles’ eye. And now I would have to suffer.

Below, I heard Astra groan in frustration. I could already imagine her rolling her eyes and double face-palming.

Oops.

If you’re wondering, being instantly cased in ice hurts. And it’s cold. (I mean, obviously, but still. It was freezing.) Thankfully, I could move my eyes and fingers. With a lot of effort, I barely managed to turn my eyes downwards. I instantly recognized the symbol on the ring. Of course! How could I have not realized earlier? It was kenaz, the Nordic rune for fire.

And thank my lucky stars I got the ring of fire. (At least, I was praying that it was a fire ring and that it wasn’t a symbol for something else in another language. Like exploding donkeys in ancient Aztec or something. Those would make for some pretty embarrassing last words on my obituary.)

I wiggled my finger around, hoping the ring doohickey would work. Sadly, I had only learnt about the futhark runes, not how ancient Nordic artifacts and their magic worked, so I was pretty much hoping for the best, that meaning I didn’t maim myself or die in a stupid freak accident. Luckily, the engraved rune glowed a bright orange for a second before the ice shattered, shoving me backwards.

Before I could react, I was abruptly thrown into a dark portal. (Jeez, what was it with me, magic, and being shoved into places?) Was this some sort of side effect of casting that rune? I hoped it wasn’t. Quickly enough, I was spat out into another room.

But I wasn’t alone.

[saundraswriting]

Hercules Chapter Three

SUMMARY:The Case continues with some interviews of the victims families. Morgan and Reid work on the Geological Profile. Reid begins pushing himself hard, and Morgan is the one to calm Reid down. It only works for a little bit when the realization hits the entire team that with the lack of connection and the breakthrough Reid finds, Reid will be the one to solve the case by working himself to death.

WARNINGS: Maybe slight self-harm? Spencer is pushing too hard.

Previous // Next

Hotch and Gideon were on their way to Leonard Davis' home. Mrs. Mary Davis, his mother was their interviewee. "Mrs. Davis, are you home? My name is Aaron Hotchner. I am with the BAU at the FBI. I wanted to ask you a few questions." Hotch said loudly.

"Hold your horses. I'm coming. Haven't I answered enough questions? but come in, come in." Mary held the door open, and only Hotch's years of experience prevented his flinch. Her blonde hair was falling out if its clip, she was dressed in a teal cami and black yoga pants. She had deep bags under her eyes and a half empty bottle of gin in her left hand.

"Hello. I'm Mary. If we could hurry this up, I have a lot to do yet." Mary stood by the sink, took a swift swallow of the gin and dumped the rest down the drain. "Self-medication was okay for a little, but time continues on and so should I"

"He was in the top 15 of his class. He was going to do great things I just knew he would. I was so happy to find out that his meds were working and that he liked them. " Mary's voice was as soft as the wind.

"Medications for what?" Hotch asked?

"Depression. His best friend was his sister. She was killed by a drunk driver when she was 16. He was 13. she had left in a hurry when we were fighting over the divorce announcement. After words I sent Leo to a therapist to help with the issues he was going through. I figured it couldn't hurt, right? Turned out he really liked going. Sorted out a lot of problems that Leo was having at the time. Things looked like there were turning up and then he turned 15. He began reading, psychology, sociology, Buddhism, Hinduism.  He would question me randomly, about my thought on God and the state of the world and Creationism among other things. Please remember I wouldn't have even noticed had I not gone into his room the night he was murdered. I saw the books and I understood. Leo was lost and confused, all I did to help was hand him over to a therapist.  I never forced him to go to church with me, I let him return to therapy seeing it may help him. Then 3 weeks later Leo is found strangled to death." Mary sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "Are we done here? I don't want to talk about Leo anymore. I have several appointments today as well. "

"We don't have any more questions for you.  Thank you for your time, Mary. If you need us please call." Gideon said, handing over his and Hotch's card.

"Good day to you as well." Mary walked them out.

Hotch and Gideon arrived at the station a few minutes after Morgan and JJ returned from their interview with Lucy Basset. They walked into Spencer's cave  where coffee cups littered the table.

"Pretty Boy, got anything?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah, sit please. I talked to Garcia and if this doesn't check out. then we'll move on. First, you guys; what did you find out?" Spencer pointed to the seats round the table.

"Ophelia resents the fact that her dad died. vocally questioned God. Mom is on meds and Ophelia's been running the household since she was 16." Morgan explained.

"Leo was a great student. Was in therapy for the divorce + death of his sister. Leo was researching psychology, sociology, Buddhism, and Hinduism. He was vocal but not drastically so." Gideon explained. Reid's eyebrows rose but wrote the observations in the notes taped to the wall opposite of the maps.

"Ophelia refused to light the candle of her father's shrine Lucy made. Besides that, I am not seeing any family involvement." JJ mentioned.

"Which makes sense considering the amount of violence the victims suffered But it wasn't torture becasue it wasn't for a period of time, the cause of death is the only wound on them. So not a sadist, not family, does that mean we have a run-of-the-mill serial killer whose delusional we need to crack?" Morgan ground out through his teeth, frustrated.

"I may have suspects. It's a long shot but worth a try. Garcia found two people in the 20 Mile radius of the image the relevant sites make that have RR as their initials. I labeled and mapped out the relevant places: Potential kill site based of distance, the dump sites and family homes. When I get the actual kill sites I can narrow it down more-anyway-I feel like I'm missing a link, a piece to the puzzle. The map isn't looking right at all. I did the locations in order from oldest murder to most recent and in crime order so family home to kill site to dump site. It will get more accurate with more information. I know that with the mass of uncertainties that we have right now, this is going to take a while but it is the biggest help we have. Feel free to look in here if you need anything, this map will update as I get information. I will keep working on this. There may be a pattern." Spencer rambled quickly. He gulped out of his coffee cup.

"Sirs and madame, we have the official kill sites now. Forensics gave us a very close locale adn we checked them out to get the exact coordinates. I have them for you Agent Reid." A uniform handed out a list of places to each of the BAU.

"Come here." Reid demanded. The two consulted the map for a few quiet moments and then the purple marks were moved. Reid's key gained a new color: Orange for new information and the black got changed to permanent. The team took the pause to gather their thoughts. Morgan used the table speaker to call Garcia.

"Garcia, any new info on our possible suspects"

"Well, hello, to you too, Chocolate Bar."

"Hey mama. Please give me something good."

"Well you are down to one. Numero dos has been found in jail-GTA. Numero uno is worth a shot." She rattled of an address. Hotch jotted it down and left.

"Pretty Boy, anything else?" Morgan asked.

"No! Damn it, this case is residing on my ability to crunch numbers and find a pattern, on my geological profile. And I can't make rhyme or reason." Spencer ranted. Morgan grabbed Spencer and herded him out of the room.

"Break time. Get some coffee, sit and breathe, Spencer." Morgan began making a cup, pulling hazelnut creamer out of the fridge.

"No, Morgan! I need to get back in that room. This profile. is the only thing going for this case right now. There is no vicitmology, no sexual sadism, we really can't form a normal profile." Reid stated. He sipped at his coffee, eyes widening at the taste.

"Spencer, calm down man. you'll go into a anxiety attack if you keep worrying like this. Listen to me, everything will be fine. Ask a local uniform to get the distances if they can. After that begin your in-depth look at everything. You are fine, you're doing great. Chill out a little." Morgan soothed.

"Morgan, you wouldn't have but hazelnut creamer into my coffee, would you? Thank you, I don't deserve a friend like you. But right now, even the smallest pieces of paper, the smallest connection can help us." Spencer said.

"You can go back in, if you calm down. Promise me?" Morgan pleaded. Spencer nodded and sipped his coffee slowly.

Morgan  stood near Spencer, silent and still as a sentinel. He had a bad feeling about this case and they still had one family to interview.

"Morgan, Reid, I'm gonna visit the Brown's. Garcia said that Tabitha Well's parents are drug addicts won't be any help. They are in rehab and the program forbids visitors." Gideon said. Morgan nodded and helped Spencer stand straight. He was swaying slightly. Spencer yawned deeply. Morgan felt his concern for his friend grow.

"Let's go. We can get started looking at the G.P. Can I have a uniform please?" Morgan said. Matthew stepped forward. The trio walked into the map room.

"We need the exact distances between each point on this map. As soon as possible, please." Spencer paused "And each victim's personal effects. Tell me that you did search their rooms and houses." Spencer said.

"I believe so, at least as much as the families allowed. I'll be right back." Matthew smiled timidly at Spencer before leaving.

"Hey, man. Mr. Matthew is into you. You gonna jump on that?" Morgan teased. The name tasted sickly sweet and tangy on his tongue like new metal.

Spencer sighed and shook his head at Morgan's antics. He appreciate the never-ending support he had gained from the team when he came out as gay months ago. JJ and Garcia had been enjoying it the most though, they spent the evenings at the clubs and bars checking out the men and finding dance partners for the girls.

"I don't do case relationships. You know that. Why aren't you hitting Maddie up? She seems into you." Spencer shot back.

"No. I'm not, uh, feeling it now." Morgan answered. Spencer side-eyed him but didn't push the issue. Morgan exhaled in relief.

"So, I am thinking about the connection between victims will be unorthodox in comparison to a 'normal' serial killer. It will be something in common with the age group. 14-20 year olds- teenagers. Maybe they are in favor of a controversial topic. one of their generation's problems brought them all to the attention of the killer." Spencer rambled, writing under the victims: Atheism.

"Okay, they are high-school to college students from messed up homes all vocal about something their generation is facing. Drugs? Legalization of weed is a big problem, Colorado, Washington and the District of Colombia all legalized recently. Maybe the UnSub didn't want it legalized and saw them using in the open?" Morgan questioned aloud.

"Today, 90% of teenagers don't do drugs-including weed-, smoke tobacco, underage drinking. The majority of people gunning of marijuana legalization believe it is a victimless crime and unlike other substances aren't full of horrible chemicals. So no, that isn't it, I think. Not drugs, not war, not environment...Gay rights?" Spencer looked over at Morgan.

"Back up, boy wonder. Why not war and environment? And why write down Atheism?" Morgan's confusion drew Spencer's gaze once more.

"If our UnSub was against the current War, don't you think that there would have been something majorly different in his behavior? People that make statements dealing with War or politics blow coffee shops up, gas stations, malls. Large, obvious signals. If the victims were on either side, it would have been obvious even for the uniforms here. If it was environmental issues, they would have home set-ups: recycling on a very detailed scale, composting, gardens, homemade snacks, re-purposing of things. So far each victim has dealt with a devastating death close to them. When that happens, people in general turn to God, but each person in this case has turned away from God at some point at some level. A typical problem with many people of this age group is coming out to people that matter and if they will be accepting or rejected. So it could be both but from what I have heard about the families, victims, and their lives none were open or closeted Bisexuals, or Homosexuals. I am heavily leaning towards Atheism. We will know for sure when Matthew comes back with the evidence." Spencer rambled quickly, his words practically attached to one another. Morgan tilted his head and shrugged, agreeing with the young genius.

"Dr. Reid. I have the evidence you requested. Unfortunately we don't have anything to give you for distances. When we looked on G.I.S technology and the ones we used varied, so we validated the coordinates for you to calculate." Matthew explained from the doorway.

"Damn it. That is going to take me a while. Okay-Morgan go outside and sort through the evidence. Use social media of any type, journals, diaries, photos, to see if there is anything relevant or strange. I need to not be bothered while I do these calculations, they are going to be extensive." Spencer ordered, He turned to the map. He stilled, body tightening with a laser-like focus. Morgan chuckled softly and herded Matthew out the door.

"Okay. You heard Spencer. Lets get cracking. He is gonna work himself death on this. We can at least help." Morgan spoke to Matthew and the three other volunteers he had gathered along the way. Everyone grabbed a different tub and began sifting through the journals, pictures, and printed pages from social media.

************

Gideon arrived at the Brown's home. He knocked and patiently waited to be invited in. "Kimberly Brown? My name is Jason Gideon. I am an agent of Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I have a few questions for you and you family. I shouldn't be too long." Gideon said entering the well designed home.

"Okay, Agent Gideon. I have a few minutes to talk. Come on in." Kimberly was dressed in a pencil skirt and blue button up shirt.

"I just want to know how Everett was before he died. How was he in school. Did someone close to him die?" Gideon asked. Kimberly grabbed two glasses and filled them with ice and water.

"Everett was a good student. Not the greatest, but he did well with football and baseball pre-seasons, season, and off-seasons. He was the star Quarterback for three years and and the star pitcher for two. He loved it. We were immensely proud. He was working on the final things to be ready for Oregon State University to play football for them and go into business and economics. It was the best thing that happened to us." Kimberly said. Gideon noticed that her tone was rather practiced and empty.

"Who were talking to? Cause that wasn't my brother. He did football for so long becasue you would disown him if he did. He wanted to be a doctor, Pediatrician specifically. He wasn't going to play at OSU. He decided his grades would be more important. Everett loved science. He never made a decision without thinking all the variables through." A male voice from the door said.

"Cameron. Enough." Kimberly snapped harshly.

"He wrote me letters-emails really. I brought them with me. Some were really strange, written in a code or something? I'm not sure. With Mom into fashion design and Dad into the stocks, Everett really didn't have anyone to turn to. So he vented to me. He would even write the first word of the subject line: Ventilation so I knew not even to open those ones. I did sometimes anyway. I go to Columbus for English and History. I am a novelist. I felt that he may not want a response but he deserved to get one." Cameron explained nervously.

"Can we have those? They would be marvelous help. I know he recent death must be difficult but this could help find the murderer." Gideon pointed out. Cameron nodded his consent.

"I can show you his room? I know that the police would have taken things they found relevant, but the BAU is different, isn't it?" Cameron ignored his mother's protests and showed Gideon to Everett's room. The room was tidy, shelves and cube organizers were everywhere. Everything had a place but it seemed that the items didn't return instantly to its place. The room had small stacks of books here and there, probably from the overflowing bookshelf. The clothes were in the hamper, and the walls covered in pictures and collages. "We traveled a lot. Everett believe even if he was a science man, he should be creative with something. called it Art therapy. He did these all himself." Cameron explained.

"I am sorry. We work hard to stop these people but more just slip right through." Gideon looked around and on the desk saw a piece of paper with what looked to be gibberish. He picked it up to look closer.

"That may be true, agent Gideon. but at least you try. Hey, that is what the strange messages looked like." Cameron waved at the paper. Gideon put it in an evidence bag and nodded at Cameron.

"Thanks Cameron. We will keep you posted. If you need anything here's my card. Also at the police station." With that Gideon showed himself out, noticing the two cups from earlier were gone as was Kimberly. He continued to the station.

***********

"Okay, gather round, I've got something." Gideon said upon arrival.

"Me too. And Reid is working and said to not be disturbed. I will fill him in." Morgan said. A shout from the map room had them racing.

"Sorry. I just finished all those distance calculations. I had to do the distance between homes and kill sites, kills sites and dump sites, and homes to dump sites. I also did places last seen when they applied and kill sites. And the distances between the homes of the victims for information. That was 20 intricate equations. I had to validate each coordinate with my info and the police to make sure it was right....and I'm rambling." He cut himself off at Morgan's look.

"What did you find out Reid?" Hotch demanded.

"That it isn't a number compulsion. Each distance is different. And the points aren't making a closed shape, in any order. I rearranged this 6 different times but nothing made sense. I think I am missing a location. Or the homes isn't where they were picked from. Any evidence support home break-ins?" Spencer asked. Hotch shook his head. "So, it isn't the home that are important. That isn't the grab site. I need coffee." Spencer's stomach growled.

"And food maybe?" Morgan commented.

"I will be fine. Give me some more time and coffee and I will have more." Reid said leaving the room.

"Wait, you're a genius but you haven't had a breakthrough? What good are you?" Someone said sardonically. Reid and the rest of the team froze instantly; Reid from terror-that tone brought back awful memories and the team from reacting to Reid's tense body language. JJ and Morgan felt murderous.

"I am a genius, maybe-if an IQ of 187 reading 20,000 words per minute, holding three PhD.s, two bachelor degrees and working on a third is considered genius. But I don't like measuring intelligence with numbers and such. People refer to me as a genius, if that helps. I have just crunched out 120 intricate equations, 20 for each of the 6 different order I have arranged them trying to find a pattern. In my head. From this conversation alone I can tell your life story and I am trying to do the same for someone I have never met and leave me dead people to examine. I think what progress I and my team has made is more than you and your colleagues. Now, I was being nice, pleasant even. If this happens again, I can't guarantee that the two fully-certified murderous looking agents behind me won't do you bodily harm. So do me, you and everyone a favor and sit down and shut up." Spencer sassed. The room was deadly silent. Morgan couldn't (didn't) stop the proud smug look from settling on his face. His Pretty Boy just went Alpha Male on the local bully and Morgan couldn't be happier.

In the quiet Spencer made his coffee and returned to his room. He settled in a chair and rubbed at his temples drinking his coffee. Morgan looked in quickly and returned to JJ. "JJ, can you order some food. I don't know when the last time he ate was. He and us need something, anything. His sugar is getting high, too much sugar in one cup let alone several pots. Gideon, Hotch, I have something to share. Reid needs to hear this as well." the trio commented they'd be there in a minute.

Spencer stood in the middle of the room, hugging himself and trembling. Morgan stepped in close after shutting the door.

"Hey, Spence. You did awesome out there. You went all alpha on him and it rocked his world. Come on, sit down. You are fine. No one is gonna hurt you. I'm right here. He was an asshole and deserved the chewing out you gave him." Morgan sat Reid down and gave him a tight hug, exaggerating his breaths, trying to get Reid to catch on. Reid did, calming down slowly.

Spencer tensed slightly at the beginning of the hug but quickly reveled in the warm, human contact. Morgan and JJ and Garcia may touch him often and Gideon and Hotch less often but no one hugged him like this. He usually got fleeting touches, faint and quick as a butterfly's wing beat. Morgan may touch him the most but only claps on the shoulder, fingertips to a wound's dressing, a  guiding hand on his elbow. No one ever touched him like this; with love and kindness, with the purpose to comfort and share your troubles. 'Isn't that the purpose of hugs in difficult times? To share your burdens with a second pair of shoulders? To share your space with another human, to make the world more bearable?' Spencer thought. He opened his (when did they close?) closed eyes and caught a swirly ray of the sun covering part of Morgan's neck. He knew from tracing Morgan's with his eyes and his own with his fingertips the eight outer swirls and the larger middle one from memory, seeing it this close made Spencer anxious for reasons he didn't know.

Morgan felt Spencer stop trembling but tense up. Morgan only squeezed tighter. He was confused about his reactions to the young genius as of late. He could barely tolerate seeing the look of awe and admiration in Matthew's eye when Spencer spoke in general, the look only got worse with direct communication. Morgan didn't even really understand why he felt so protective of Reid either. He understood as friends you try to protect one another but Morgan was ready to tear the asshole from earlier (Thomas)'s head off so thinking so little of the genius. Morgan wanted to make sure Spence was cared for-eating healthy and sleeping right. He wanted to be the one to administer the human contact he knew Spencer needed. Not just the fleeting touches he gave out but hugs, wonderful hugs that lessened the pressure Reid felt from the world. He wanted to be near Spencer if only to watch him think then so be it. Morgan never felt this way about anyone before. He knew that this was beyond friendship he was feeling but wasn't sure what it was he felt for the Boy Wonder.

"Thank you Morgan. I needed that. I was really scared. I thought he might hit me." Spencer said as they broke apart.

"Do you need any help? I am not sure what I can do but I can sure as hell try." Morgan glanced around and realized that with the case looking the way it was, Spencer would be the one to solve it. He would synthesis the evidence, he would be the one to get the breakthrough, he would be the one ending up overworked, overstressed, malnourished and fatigued.

"No, I've got it. could you get me some...uh...food? Please?" Spencer asked hesitantly. Morgan laughed.

"JJ is already on it. We will give you updates if we get anything. I will be around if you need anything. Just take your time and work you magic. I found something earlier, I was going to tell Hotch and Gideon right now. You keep working. If we need you I'll get you." Morgan left and stepped to the right of the doorway, seeing Hotch and Gideon standing there.

"We believe these texts to Leo, Tabitha, Ophelia, Everett, the emails from Everett to Cameron, the diary of Ophelia are written in a code. We also believe that the note you got from Everett's room was the key. I think he was a recent addition to whatever group uses this code, no one else had a key. We need to use the  key to crack the code. Does anyone want to try?" Morgan asked Hotch and Gideon.

"Neither one of us would be able to do it in a timely manner. We know you are terrible with codes and riddles, Morgan. That leaves Reid and Garcia. JJ is having a rough time with the press right now." Hotch mused.

"Bring it all in here. You know that I am the best and really the only option."Reid called from his room.

"No, Spence, you have enough to do Garcia may have a program she can run." JJ said.

"You have to break the code first and then give it to her or she has to run all her programs on it. I can read 12 languages and am pretty smart I can at least break it quick. Hand it over." Reid strode out, sleeves rolled up and pen spinning in circles. A different persona than when he is calculating something where he has a specific formula and direct end goal, this is thinking-trying one idea to reject it and go to another. He needs to be loose, have no end goal planned.

Spencer began pacing and muttering, spinning his pen and pausing every once and while when a train of thought might lead somewhere. 15 minutes in and he stopped and looked up.

"It's pig latin." He said awestruck. Morgan internally sighed at the tone, it was usually followed by a statistic or random or obscure facts. Morgan wasn't wrong. "The single-page is a cheat sheet for most common transitions between English and Pig Latin. I mean a large number of the population can say they have heard of Pig Latin, smaller percentage say they have heard it, and an even smaller portion say they have ever spoken a word of Pig Latin. This is a great idea. It also means that whoever this correspondence was from or to is smart and manipulative. He had to know and be able to teach these kids Pig Latin, and to get them to use it willingly when talking about this group without brainwashing or violence is no easy feat. If they write in code then no sneaky parents will understand if they accidentally see it. Garcia should be able to help, I can if she can't." Spencer handed back the cheat sheet and return to his lair of maps and used coffee cups.

"Hey, man. None of them were open or closeted Bisexuals or Homosexuals. Leo and Ophelia were openly Pro-gay rights but I don't know about the others." Morgan said to his retreating back. Reid paused and turned.

"Nothing of relevance. So I was wrong. That word is around me more in the case than my life.  But at least we aren't dealing with homophobia or something, those cases are touch and go. So it has to be Atheism. We are dealing with religion." Spencer saw Hotch's mouth open. "No, I don't know what that means, but we have something. We can work with something. Give me some time to think." Reid walked in and shut his door.

"That kid is going to kill himself with this case." Morgan murmured. The others consented their agreement.

Previous // Next

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Okay, The focus of the fic shifts from here. This isn’t a case fic so to speak, it is a soulmate au fic. So be prepared for that. 

[princessdevy03]

Tumblr Exclusive!!!!

Author’s note: I had planned on this being the exclusive that balanced out Three Little Words that I had done for The Alphas, but then things got crazy and I came up with Reconciling Accounts instead. But as I worked through it and tried to figure out the ending, this came to mind. 

So here’s to balance in the universe and the smutty Reg!KevEdd oneshot y’all deserve.

Enjoy!

Love ya!

Reconciling Accounts: Rhymes With Orange

“Hey, I’m gonna go take a shower, ok?”

Edd leaned into the strong arms around his waist, but instead of patting Kevin’s hands as he acknowledged his statement, he held on.

“You ok?”

A smirk crossed Edd’s face as he said, “No.”

“Wha? What’s wrong, Babe?”

Edd looked back into worried green eyes and his smirk turned into a grin.

“I’m fine,” he said softly before looking back up at Kevin through lidded eyes. “But…”

“Oh.”

Edd giggled a bit as Kevin’s cheeks started to redden up and he knew it wasn’t from the two beers he had at dinner, either.

Kevin had flown in that afternoon for the long holiday weekend, business being slow as all the vacationers were already on the beach by the time he got up that morning.

But Edd still had class and attend a couple of study groups so he held off on coming in right away to give the man time to finish up his work before taking the time off from reading and drafting legal briefs to finally relax.

But it meant spending most of the day in his nice clothes because as soon as he landed, they headed out to grab drinks and dinner, and give Edd’s roommate time to get out of the apartment before coming back and being boyfriends for the next four days.

After hours stuck in airports and airplanes, Kevin was pretty eager to get changed into his normal clothes, but apparently Edd had other plans.

Kevin was liking these plans as he hadn’t seen Edd in the flesh in a month, but he held back considering that the world wasn’t too keen on their brand of PDA and Edd’s conservative nature in general.

But behind closed doors, the CPA law student would do more than just come out of that damn beanie of his.

It would usually take some prompting on Kevin’s part, but since Christmas, he’d let his long, curly hair down and his pants would hit the floor just as quickly.

It was now Memorial Day weekend, but this was the first time in months that Edd had done something resembling initiating anything.

Like hell if Kevin wasn’t going to follow suit.

Edd slowly started to let go of his wrists as Kevin nuzzled the sensitive spot behind his right ear.

“Oh, Daddy.”

Kevin stepped back and came to his side as he asked, “What did you just say?”

Edd’s eyes looked like saucers as he started to stutter and then he groaned when he saw the teasing smirk on Kevin’s face.

“Ok, look, I know I should have probably discussed this with you before,” he said as steadily as he could considering that his face was on fire. “But…umm…”

“You kinky.”

Edd scowled and Kevin started snickering but when he saw the apprehension and hurt in Edd’s eyes, he took a deep breath and held up his hands in surrender.

“Talk to me,” he said softly as he took Edd’s twitching hands into his own.

A thousand thoughts flitted through those pensive baby blues of his and they went from slightly begging Kevin to understand, to staring a hole in the floor as Edd began to speak.

“I…I love what we have and what we do, but…I just want more…sometimes…”

“Like what?,” Kevin asked him as he trailed off and his hands started twitching again.

“Like…rougher?,” he asked as if he needed permission to like what he liked. “But only sometimes!,” he said quickly, but Kevin didn’t mind how often he liked anything, just long as he got to do it with him and him alone.

“Anything else?”

“Umm…well, you already know the one thing now,” Edd shrugged apologetically. “And maybe…sometimes…I like to add things in…”

Kevin’s jaw started to drop and Edd whined in embarrassment.

“Please stop looking at me like that, Kevin,” he nearly begged and Kevin shook his head to get the shocked and lustful look off his face.

“Ok, ok, but since when?,” he asked as he couldn’t believe his dork would be into anything that seemed so naughty.

“Uh…junior year.”

“Oh, so you just got into it?,” Kevin asked, somewhat relieved as he thought that Edd’s naturally curious nature had just got the best of him during his super explorative undergrad years where he was involved in nearly anything he could get himself into on and off campus.

“Umm…no…”

“But you said junior year!”

“Of high school,” Edd whispered and Kevin reeled.

They came out junior year of high school.

“WHAT?!”

Edd knew that Kevin was jealous that he wasn’t Edd’s first. Despite coming out within months of each other spring semester of their junior year of high school, Edd actively dated where Kevin didn’t.

Part of it was the fact that Kevin suddenly became a workaholic as he started to think on and work towards the future he was living in now being his own boss and working on any vehicle he could get his strong, capable hands on.

The other part was that not many could reach the jock’s standards.

Nazz would often say that as a group, they were all spoiled by how friendships and relationships could work. They’d all been at odds for years, but after finding some common ground, they learned to get along and be more accepting of one another. But that also meant that they wouldn’t tolerate a lot of things so many others would because they didn’t see the need to.

Why be someone you’re not?

Kevin liked sports, motorcycles, and other guys.

But that guy had better know a thing or two about sports, motorcycles, and what he wanted to do with his life.

Oh, and treat his friends like family because that is what Kevin did.

So his dating Edd didn’t come as much of a shock.

They just clicked because they liked the same things. They just had a different way of liking those things is all. And they always gave space to the other to do and like things the way he felt most comfortable with.

But this all meant that the chance of them learning things from others was high.

So Kevin now knows that Edd had learned something from someone else right off the bat and had been holding on to it for nearly seven years now.

And it was looking like he was ready to let Kevin scratch his itch.

“Kevin, please don’t yell,” Edd said firmly, but there was a bit of plea on the edge of his voice as he took his hands away from Kevin’s and started to walk away.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“That’s why,” Edd said as he turned and pointed at the redhead and Kevin couldn’t shake the confused look of his face.

“Wha?!”

“You literally shook Eddy when you found out he taught me how to change a tire. You complained to Nazz all of senior year that we hung out too much. You literally threatened to kill two of my ex’s and one friend because you thought they were being mean to me. I swear to God, Kevin,” he sighed in exasperation as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “you have an overreaction for everything. I wanted to tell you before now, I honestly did, Baby, but…”

Kevin thought about what he said in the ensuing silence and groaned as he remembered all the times his attitude and temper got the best of him because he thought that he should have been the one to help Edd with something, or monopolize his time for no reason, or tease him.

Edd always admonished him for doing so but he would also try to make other situations easier on the mechanic to digest, so it made sense that he’d hold this bit of information back as Kevin’s temper was bound to flare about it.

But he couldn’t help but feel slighted because this seemed to be something that Edd liked and he was always down for doing whatever it was that Edd liked to do.

Especially in bed.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Edd,” he said sincerely as he walked towards him. “I just…I swear to God if anyone touches you…”

“I shook hands with our new QB today.”

Kevin’s hands bawled into fists, but then he caught the look in Edd’s eyes.

He was giving him a hard stare.

One wrong word or move and Kevin’s pretty sure Edd will toss him out of the apartment.

“I also met the swim team captain and the Dean of the English department this week.”

Edd knew that Kevin had researched just about everyone that did something of some sort of importance at Edd’s university because if Edd had to do anything where he’d need Kevin to be his plus one, he wanted to at least be knowledgeable about who he was coming into contact with.

And make sure no one was putting the moves on his boyfriend.

Kevin’s shoulders slumped as he thought about who all Edd had to deal with this past week and while he knew he could trust him, he just didn’t trust other people.

But that always made Edd question whether or not Kevin really trusted him.

Yet, Edd was standing there talking to him.

Not the tall blond swimmer who looked like something out of the Swiss army.

Not the hunky English professor who Nazz was ready to throw her panties at despite the fact that he was a married father of four.

Not the hotshot QB that Kevin had on his fantasy college football team.

Him.

He called him Daddy.

He said he liked to do things a bit differently and it seemed like Kevin was one of the few people that knew this about Edd and if Edd is sharing this all with him now, it meant that he wanted to share in it with him.

Apologetic green met frustrated blue and Kevin apologized.

“How about you let Daddy make up it up to you?”

The sincere remorse in his green eyes at his actions wasn’t dimmed by his smile, so Edd knew that he trying.

And that he wasn’t going to hold what he had just told him against him as a few others had done.

But he wasn’t going to let him off the hook so quickly and easily, either.

This was a very sensitive subject for Edd and Kevin was as big a teaser as Eddy could be. He needed Kevin to understand that while he wanted to share this part of his life with the redhead, he would not stand for being teased about it or have it be the subject of public or even private conversations with their friends and family.

This was for them.

“How?,” he asked coolly.

Kevin lowered his head a bit as he thought of a way to let Edd know that he wasn’t going to judge him for how he sometimes liked to do things behind closed doors.

Edd took in his contrite stance and tempered his own flares a bit.

But just a bit.

“Look,” he sighed as he raised his head and was relieved that Edd stopped looking like he was going to put him on the curb. “I…whatever you want to do, Edd, we’ll do. Just…cut me some slack, ok? I’m drowning here!”

Edd heaved a sigh as he said, “Fine, but you have to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Not a word of this to anyone. Not even your priest. Definitely not Nazz,” Edd shuddered as the thought of Kevin’s best friend and the biggest gossip in Peach Creek knowing anything about their sex life flew through his head.

And Kevin was glad Edd wasn’t going into criminal law as the man spoke to him with a seriousness he had only seen when he was on the debate team and getting Eddy bailed out of jail a few times.

The thought of bragging to their friends about how liberal he was behind closed doors was fleeting anyways.

Everyone knew they were dating and that they loved each other dearly, first as friends and now as lovers. But for them all to know more was a bit too much for Kevin to take.

Sometimes it’s best to keep things to yourself.

And this would be their thing.

Like their dates to the cheap movie theater to see the bad rom-coms on Saturday mornings after breakfast.

Or their game of tic tac toe that started during study hall sophomore year of high school where they filled up Kevin’s notebook for their shared honors English class with the longest consecutive game of the silly grid game either had ever played.

Kevin still has that notebook.

Or their random five second I love you, I love you, too, later, gator, ok, bye phone calls.

“Not a word,” Kevin whispered as he took a tentative step toward him and quickly swooped him up in his arms as Edd’s walls fell.

The way Edd wrapped his arms around his shoulders and moaned into his collarbone felt needy.

“Tell Daddy what you need.”

“You.”

At the edge of his vision, Edd caught Kevin’s sly ass grin and wondered just how wild things were going to get tonight.

But his need for something more and to do it with the man whom he loved so much overrode his fear that this was a bad idea.

He moaned as his polo was tugged away and blindly tossed into his hamper. He didn’t have time to voice how impressed he was by the action because Kevin’s mouth was on his neck and the only thing that came out of him was a whined out gasp.

Slightly calloused hands gently roamed his back and sides and it was driving him mad.

“Safe word?”

He blinked and stared at Kevin blankly for a moment before he came to his senses.

“Oh! Umm…orange.”

“Orange?”

“Orange,” he nodded firmly and next thing he knew he was being tossed on the bed.

“Pants, off,” Kevin ordered as he undid his own pants and he quickly did what he was told.

But apparently he wasn’t fast enough because just as soon as he got his belt out of the way, Kevin, who was naked, was tearing the khakis off of him.

“I’ll buy you some new ones,” Kevin said gruffly when he gasped in shock as his ripped pants hit the floor.

“O-Ok,” Edd whispered as he was pulled into Kevin’s lap.

“Orange.”

Edd took a breath and let it out slowly as he nodded.

“I’m gonna need your help with this,” Kevin said softly as he ran a hand through Edd’s mussed up hair.

“Don’t worry,” Edd said as he leaned into his touch. “I’ll guide you through it. Where would you like to start?”

Kevin huffed out a sigh as he rolled his eyes.

He couldn’t even being to think about where they could start anything because his brain was on overload with ideas.

“You already owe me new pants,” Edd giggled and Kevin tossed him on his back.

“Such a sassy mouth for such a naughty boy,” he whispered right before he pinned Edd’s hands above his head.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Kevin cracked a grin at the fact that Edd’s mouth was apologizing but his eyes were challenging his authority.

“Make it up to me.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to show me what you want me to do to you.”

Edd blinked in curiosity before it hit him as to what Kevin was asking of him.

“Show me how much you miss me. How much you need me.”

His arms were still pinned above his head and Kevin was leaving so many marks on his skin as he spoke and he was going to hate himself for about five seconds but he couldn’t do as his Daddy asked with his hands pinned above his head.

“Orange,” he whined and when Kevin let his arms go, he quickly sat up and gave him a quick smooch on the lips before pushing him out of the way so he could get to his nightstand.

Kevin went to sit cross legged in the middle of the full size bed as Edd sat back against the headboard, a bottle of lube and condom in one hand, a purple prostate stimulator and what looked like a keyfob in the other. He set the condom on the nightstand and then lubed up the prostate stimulator before tossing the keyfob looking thing at Kevin.

Kevin’s jaw dropped as he looked the small black device in his hand and saw that it was the remote to the stimulator that a now moaning Edd was working inside himself.

When Kevin looked up to see where all the noise was coming from, Edd’s back was to him, but he had one hand on the headboard and the other easing the sex toy in his ass.

A broken cry left his lips when the stimulator was about halfway inside and Kevin’s name came out of him on a moan.

Kevin wanted to touch him, to make sure he never sounded like he just did ever again, but he knew that right now, their lives just weren’t set up that way.

So he did the next best thing he could think of.

After pressing the button to power on the stimulator, he pushed the small switch to the Low speed.

Edd let out a keen of relief as the rest of the stimulator slipped inside of him with ease as soon as it was turned on. He barely had a chance to take a breath before the device started to do what it was made to do.

As his head tipped back, his nose caught a whiff of Kevin’s cologne and he let out a whimper because he had missed that scent in his room so much.

When the bed shifted a bit, he suddenly remembered that Kevin was there.

Realizing that his hands were empty, but he wasn’t, his head tipped forward again and he gripped the headboard as tight as he could as he said Kevin’s name.

He felt a heated gaze roam over his back and when he moved his hips, a scream shot out of him as a wave of pleasure hit him like a hurricane.

Kevin knew his voice could go higher and that his hips could move more, so he moved the switch up to Medium.

“Oh, God…Daddy!”

Kevin watched in so much awe as Edd’s hips jerked against the stimulator in his ass and his voice went deeper and higher.

Edd held on to the headboard, but as his hips rocked, so did the headboard.

Tiny pleas left his throat as a hand left the headboard brush against his now sensitive skin and grasped his cock.

He rocked his hips down harder and faster as he slowly started jerking himself off, and he started to call out for the man sitting behind him.

“K-Kevin…oh, God…I need you.”

“Go on.”

That rough voice was in his ear and the stimulator reached its peak as Edd went into the stratosphere.

“I…Daddy…God, almighty…”

Edd’s head fell back on a low moan of Kevin’s name, but Kevin had never heard it so intoned.

“That’s not my name,” Kevin whispered.

Edd’s head fell as he grabbed the headboard and whimpered out a moan.

“Daddy.”

“Orange.”

Edd looked back at him as he turned the stimulator off and his entire body shook at the loss of the sensations he had been going through for the last ten minutes and then he sobbed as Kevin gingerly pulled the stimulator out of him and wrapped it up in some hastily grabbed tissues off the night stand.

A few seconds later he heard the condom wrapper rip open and Kevin was ordering him to breathe as he slipped inside with one smooth thrust.

Edd’s instincts kicked in and he grabbed the hands on his hips, wrapped them up with his own around his torso and held on as Kevin started to move.

“God, you feel so good,” Edd moaned as his head fell back on Kevin’s shoulder and they started to rock together.

“Better than that toy?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Who’s the best?,” Kevin growled in his ear and Edd’s response was a high moan that let Kevin know that he was about cum.

“Say it!”

“You! You are!,” Edd cried out, his overstimulated body begging for relief.

He couldn’t think, he could barely breathe.

Everything in him was focused on Kevin’s driving cock moving inside of him like a piston on a stock car.

God, he missed this.

Then Kevin whined out his name.

“Oh, Eddward.”

Something from deep inside of him would always come alive when Kevin did this and it gave him what he needed to make Kevin see the stars and bars he’d swear Edd would knock him out with whenever he could get an orgasm out of him.

Edd leaned his head back into Kevin’s shoulder as he spread his legs a bit more, arched his back so his ass popped out and Kevin went deeper.

They both moaned but Edd held on as Kevin rocked his hips faster and even harder, each driving movement driving his cock against his prostate and it was all Edd could do not to black out when his orgasm hit.

Kevin stuttered out his name on a whine as his body let everything go.

And then they collapsed.

And instead of crying out his loneliness into his pillow, he got to cry in strong arms. He wanted to beg him to stay, but knew it was selfish to do so.

Someday…

“Orange.”

Edd sniffled as he pulled his face out of Kevin’s chest and instantly his lips were on his own.

There was a new passion in this kiss.

Love was there as always, but it had grown deeper.

A secret would be held tightly, not out of embarrassment, but out of love as he wanted to only do this with him.

“I love you,” Edd whimpered and Kevin pulled him closer than close as he whispered, “I love you, too,” into the top of his head.

After a few moments of gathering their strength, Kevin carried him to the shower where they stayed til the water went cold as Kevin not only cleaned them up, but kissed him senseless, massaged the kinks out of his back, and got to hold him like he had been wanting to all damn day.

They dressed for bed and Edd cleaned up his toy as Kevin remade the bed with fresh linens.

“I hate jet lag,” he sighed once their heads hit their pillows and Edd laughed.

Sex before bed or not, it was always hard for Kevin to get on Edd’s schedule when he came to visit because the trip was long and the time change always messed up his internal clock.

“I have nothing planned, so we can sleep in,” he chuckled and Kevin smashed a wet smooch against his forehead in thanks.

“I love you, Baby Boy.”

And Edd squealed.

He had been his Daddy’s Lil Man, Big Boy, and simply Baby since he had been introduced to this not so bright side of the sex spectrum.

But for some reason, he really liked being Baby Boy.

“I love you, too, Daddy,” he sighed lovingly into Kevin’s ear and the redhead pulled him closer.

They fell asleep and even more in love because like nothing rhyming with orange, nothing was like what they had and they would never want anything else.

[johnnydundies]

Oranges, Cadillacs, Campbell Soup Cans, Black American History, & God Oranges. You can bet on finding one in my refrigerator every time you open it. We even have a special orange peeler made by Tupperware. I love peeling back that tough exterior and the excess white residue underneath to reveal that juicy sweet goodness. Or sometimes cutting the oranges into slices and devouring them until it looked as though I am wearing a unique mouth guard. Now, I look at these oranges and imagine George Starling, the Blye brothers, and other pickers scaling large trees all day for pennies. Picturing George “Schoolboy” Starling using his intellect to calculate what the grove owners promised to pay and then finding their paychecks not adding up. I envision how George realized that World War I depleted the workforce. He then would convince the majority of pickers to only work fair wages or not work at all. George knew the grove owners themselves could fill the demand and would have no choice but to breakdown and pay the appropriate wage (without cheating their paychecks because George Starling could do the math). See George knew that black men and women would typically work all day for seventy-five cents or maybe a dollar, but he also knew picking in the grove with fairer wages could be bring in that same amount in just an hour or two.  Under his leadership George basically formed his own union because he knew the grove owners had no choice, if they wanted to get paid they had to have pickers. Mr. Starling stood strong against the white owners. George wouldn’t budge either, it was his price (a fair price) and not a penny less. Yes sir, oranges will always taste a little sweeter to me now. Cadillacs. My father-in-law owns a brand new cherry red 2017 Cadillac. It has a sleek new modern design, but that logo still stands out. The Cadillac crest sits prominent on the back and front of the vehicle. When I see it, Big Boi & Andre 3K echo in my head rhyming about two dope boys in a Cadillac with me and you, yo momma and yo cousin too rolling down the strip and slamming the doors. One does not have to be an automotive expert to spot a Mercedes, Audi, or Ferrari just by the logo…and the Cadillac logo is no different. No doubt about it, Cadillacs represent luxury. However, now when my father-in-law pulls up in my driveway I immediately recall the young aspiring Dr. Foster earning the money to buy a brand new Cadillac himself. He wanted a car that would spark interest and grab the attention of potential clients. After all, Dr. Foster was a man of style and first impressions. Even though, he earned enough money to purchase a Cadillac, when Dr. Foster visited the local dealership he was only offered the used models. Evidently Negroes at this time were not worthy of owning a brand new one despite the ability to afford one. That Cadillac symbol now makes me visualize Dr. Robert Pershing Foster feverishly writing that letter to the Cadillac manufacturers describing his experience. Then not only being granted to purchase a brand new Cadillac but also choosing the color and model which would be delivered to him. If I get the opportunity to get behind the wheel of my father-in-law’s precious Cadillac, I will definitely daydream about Dr. Robert Pershing Foster cruising around to his patients, his practice, the race tracks and casinos. Letting all the onlookers know, the doctor has arrived. Campbell Soup cans. My wife is always stocking our pantry. She will be the first to tell you we have items that need to be kept in multiple quantities at all times. One of these said items are varieties of Campbell soup. These soups are commonly used for ingredients for various meals, while some are just the company’s famous chicken noodle soup. I’m convinced their chicken noodle soup completely eradicates almost any head cold and sore throat. These staple Campbell products in our household all come in cans still. Going forward these cans will always bring George and Ida Mae Gladney to mind. Both working long hours for wages lower than their white co-workers. George working the canning machines over and over and over for years with that repetitive labor wearing on his body. Ida Mae finally getting a job at the Campbell plant that would free her from the stereotypical female “slave market” jobs. These “slave market” jobs were basically groups of black women waiting to be handpicked by white women who would pay them to do their household chores, grocery shopping, or sometimes other menial tasks. I try to visualize the various homes the Gladney family lived in before finally purchasing their first three story flat with the help of the steady work the Campbell plant provided. Yes indeed, George and Ida epitomized work ethic. Yet George still had time to open the church every Sunday. To me a can of Campbell soup might as well have a picture of George and Ida Mae Gladney on it. One may think it is foolish for a can to recall such images, but it will. The images of a life of hard work, struggle, faith, heartbreak, and incredible perseverance. Black American History. My knowledge of black history was forever transformed by this book. I thought I had an idea of what hatred and evil black men and women endured from arriving in 1619 until the Civil Rights Act of 1964, that’s 345 years…that’s approximately 6 generations. A day to day fear of not knowing if you were going to be beaten, lynched or raped…or maybe all of the above with no recourse or accountability. Like George Starling’s friend, Reuben Blye, recalling helping his uncle cut down a limp, lynched body out of tree they spotted on their way to run errands, when Reuben was only ten years old. Or Ida Mae’s friend Joe Lee, who was beaten almost to death for being wrongfully accused of stealing turkeys. Ida Mae recounted he was beaten with chains until Joe Lee’s overalls turned red with blood and stuck to his skin as if with adhesive. Her husband George and other men had to use grease to peel the overalls off of Joe Lee, just as their slave forefathers had done generations before. Not to mention the “stolen” turkeys wandered back to the farm from the woods the next day. No apology offered, just another day in the life. Then there is a black soldier named, Wilbur Little, who returned home in 1919 after his tour of duty in World War I. He was greeted by a band of white men demanding he take off his uniform and warned him to leave town if wanted to continue to wear it. Days later, Mr. Little was found beaten to death in his uniform. This man fought for a country that killed him when he returned. Yet, we call Colin Kaepernick un-American? There was a quote in the book from a white southerner in the early 1940s that stated “the killing of a Negro by a white man ceased in practice even to call for legal inquiry.” How many unknown deaths? How many unrecorded lynchings? How many murderers went unpunished by the law? I think little Eddie Earvin summed it up best when he recalls passing by a white church where the kids threw rocks and bricks at him calling him the vilest of names and asking his grandparents, “What kind of god they got up inside that church?” God. “Over the course of six decades, some six million black southerners left the land of their forefathers and fanned out across the country for an uncertain existence in nearly every other corner of America”, writes Isabel Wilkerson. Six million? I find that number six million astounding because after reading this Pulitzer Prize masterpiece I’ve realized that means six million different reasons. Six million different journeys. My biggest take away from this revelation of the Great Migration is the following. We are all fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God. There is no such thing as being “colorblind” because God obviously is not “colorblind.” We live in a country, or a world for that matter, made up of different skin colors and cultures, yet we are all dynamic and uniquely made. Why do we still feel the need in American culture to place, not just black men and women, but all men and women in boxes? We resort to political, religious, and sexual labels as if we are not more than those? Why must we continually place limits on their greatness? Why must we ignorantly react to the cries of the marginalized? How can we come to understand another culture instead of forcing that culture to stop being different? Will the “U.S.” ever be “us?” Well, for me it was simply learning more about the culture’s existence. A culture that survived 345 years (if we are honest 398 years and counting) of oppression. A culture which relied on their family members and loved ones spread out all over the country for shelter, food, and basic day to day survival. A culture where many saw through all the injustices and hate but still saw Jesus. The Lord of Lords, the King of Kings, the resurrected Son of God who would not forsake them. The God Ida Mae’s mother, Miss Theenie, would pray to whenever Ida would travel, “May the Lord be the first one in the car/train, and the last out.” The same God, the stoic and strong George Starling would sing to with tears welling up in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. The same God who young Gilbert Elie heard being called out to in the woods by a black man being lashed. Gilbert heard the black man pray “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they doing. I lived a good life for you, if you never done nothing for me, Lord, please…” Gilbert Elie said fifty plus years later “I ain’t never heard a man pray like that man.” This book only strengthened my love for Jesus, his Holy Spirit, and his heavenly Father above. I will never pray, sing, or read God’s word the same after finishing this book. When you can seek first the Kingdom of God, there is no evil that can overcome you. John McDaniel Thank you #Lecrae , #ShoBaraka , and #Propaganda for this recommendation.