#the other letters in queue are silent

[mimikyu-chr]

unpopular opinion - the tiktok system community has changed people’s perceptions of DID so much and it’s kind of irritating for those of us who don’t fit the stereotype it’s created.

- a system who dosent exactly fit the tiktok stereotype and is fakeclaimed because of it.

[bambisnc]

operation : true love - how likely riize is to NOT confess!

pairing : ot7 x reader! genre : crack + fluffff cw/tw : food mention + littol bit rushed n uneditted D: wc : im guessing maybe 400ish? -> update its 495!

shotaro : 2/10 - cutie would plan out eveyrhting the moment he sees you and has that italicised oh moment - i'm talking your favorite flowers delivered by hand followed by your ideal date + lots of fairy lights/candles. trust me.) and woo you exactly how you deserve to be wooed <3 would get a little anxious about making everything perfect for you tho

eunseok : 7/10 - he'd lowkey be such a tsundere ... thanks to my talk w mai i'm fully convinced he's the Only academic rival to lover to exist. would for sure pine after you silently and end up confessing in the middle of an argument. you know like "why do YOU care who i'm going out?" "BECAUSE. i like you. okay bye."

sungchan : 192830429283/10 - im biased sorry. but you can't tell me you don't see best friend!him being so obsessed with you - like all your friends know it, hell even you know it but the guy himself refuses to admit. is so "we're besties!! it's natural for us to hug and hold hands and make out between classes in the janitors closet :D i mean what. i didnt say anything" coded like c'mon

wonbin : a solid 13/10 - i feel like he'd be really conflicted. like on one hand he'd rather you be the one to confess but on the other he wants to do like a huge romantic gesture and be the one to confess to you. i can imagine there being this one phase of time where he'd kinda start ignoring you to get you to reach out to him or wtv tactics the insta/tiktok girlies (gn) teach him too

seunghan : 5/10 - okay but i see him either just randomly blurting it out of nowhere over a voice call or while ur ft-ing ("hey this cat reminded me of u" "aww haha im in love with you" "WHAT") OR doing it via a more traditional, thought out kinda way ... maybe like making you a gift or writing you a love letter/song :(( <3

sohee : 4/10 - bbg is confessing to you so fast. he'd only do it once he confirms (multiple times) that you both like each other though. is immediately planning the best way he could confess to you. does all his necessary research, books everything in advance - goes all out to ensure there's no hitches, basically. him and taro probably share notes

anton : 11/10 - bro is Not confessing. you can feel free to tho he'll say yes obvi! as soon as he gains back enough conherence after he (half) faints that is. for sure the type to get you soso many gifts and he'd try to be so casual about it too "hey i got u a customized acessroies set with the fav flower/colour you like" "anton wtf" "uh no dw i had an extra hahaha". def gets u guys matching stuff a lot too

notes : imma not be online for at least a day (shocker) so queueing this!!!! -> well that was a lie <3 + [m.list] song rec : LOVE ME BACK BY FROMIS 9 WEEWOO WEEWOO

[thelastharbinger]

Tidbits of ATSV That I Enjoyed (Or Alternatively: Just Miles Being The Most Endearing Spidey Ever)

Miles patting The Spot's head after successfully webbing him (I don't see this as condescending, but rather him still engaging with the humanity of a villain like Spot) and ~very assertively~ telling/asking him not to escape.

"I'm like Robin Hood-if he gave to himself."

Miles' spidey senses going off when he arrives late to his dad's party because there's nothing more frightening than Brown parents when they're mad at you. Beware the chancla or correa!

O.k. So we all know there are different versions of the movie out there. You may already know that one of the slight differences is when Miles goes to save Inspector Singh. There's a version where you can hear Gwen's voice in the distant background yelling no! when she thinks Miles gets crushed under the rubble, and there's another where she's silent as she webs to him. Now, I have found ANOTHER version (online) where her shouting is even more at the forefront. She's practically screaming and sounds more desperate, (prolly because it's close to the same way her Peter Parker died so she's reliving trauma) and the fear in her voice is palpable. That one haunts me.

Jefferson trying to equate studying for his police exams to childbirth, which Rio quickly nips in the bud.

Ganke having a soccer poster of Son Heung Min, a famous Korean footballer who currently plays for the Premier League Tottenham Hotspur and is captain of the South Korean national team.

Miles having a Sashimi (his universe's version of Supreme, but I just like the idea that Miles loves eating sashimi. Like I know that kid has good taste in food) poster in his bedroom.

The fact that Miles kept in touch with Aunt May for long enough after the events of ITSV that he helps her move.

The Spot saying he was one of the more handsome scientists at Alchemax according to his colleagues.

Miles and Gwen having the same collectible toys, the only difference being that he keeps his in the box and she doesn't.

"Hey, don't try to wow me with big words, man," *in deep manly voice* "I do crosswords every day"- Miles after Spot points out Alchemax as "the crucible of our connection!"

Miles going, "This job is so dumb sometimes" after he tries to web Spot at the deli, but it goes through a hole and lands on his face.

"Nahhh, he seems more Dominican to me." Kinda want Miles to meet a native Dominican Spidey because that dynamic would highkey fuck hard *pun not intended*. They would repair relations between our two islands-PR&DR.

"Almost there Mami *smiley face* *cowboy* prayer hands*"

The college admissions coach at Visions Academy straight up saying, "That's your story! Now, just stick to the script..." Ma'am what???

"Calmate Mami, eso no es my fault."

"I've hit a lot of different villains with a lot of different food...I'm just trying to lighten the mood."

Miles in his angsty teen era and smart-mouthing everyone around him. Love that for him.

"He almost killed his mom as a baby, I mean, look at those shoulders." No but for real tho. Those shoulders are as wide as a truck. Kim Seokjin who??? (if you understood that reference, ily).

Miles writing a love letter to his dad in 2 cakes.

Gwen at the water tower chowing and saying how feelings make her hungry after her and Miles talked about how they can't be together cause it would end in tragedy. Like Gwen, come again?!

Also, Miles' and Gwen's talk at the Williamsburg Bank Building being lowkey the catalyst for the 2nd/3rd acts of the film. Without them both kind of silently admitting their feelings for each other, Miles probably wouldn't have chased after her the way he did. Pretty sure you know the rest.

"I bet she doesn't even speak Spanish," and Jeff going "Que barbaridad" in his very broken Spanish. Queue Rio's bombastic side eye.

Both Gwen and Miles referring to Spot as a Villain Of The Week, even though neither of them have spoken about Spot to each other.

"I was bitten by a-wouldnt you like to know? Know what I mean?" SIR. Chill. This movie is for children.

The Spot inverting himself, going from a white mass with black spots to a gaping black hole with smaller white spirals. It's giving Junji Ito.

The irony of Pavitr exclaiming, "Well that was another easy adventure for Spider-Man!" right before an incoming canon event. HIS. He was about to experience his first big loss, and his happy-go-lucky nature would've been challenged.

Miguel saying conyo! when all the Spideys start pointing at each other.

"!Cállate!" "Nosy!" Sidebar: we don't talk about Gwen's banter with bad guys enough. She's so funny!

A lot of the Peters saying hi to Gwen as she passes HQ because she is canonically the one lost love--the love interest they all would've ended up with had she not died, so they all have an affection for her.

Web-Slinger going "Giddy up!" Cause he's swinging up.

Miles offering his fresh new takes on how to deal with the Spot upon meeting Miguel, saying "He just wants to be taken seriously. Like we all do." MILES YOU BEAUTIFUL, COMPASSIONATE GOLDEN SUNFLOWER BOY I LOVE YOUUUUU.

Hobie referring to Peter B. as Humbling Reality Spider-Man, which considering how steeped in tragedy the Spidey lore is, is really saying something.

Miguel's nonono no puedo más no puedo más. His misery is very funny and delightful to me. Little bitch ass.

"You know you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny." Yes! More Miguel slander in the next one, please! Little bitch ass.

"Snitch!"

Miles shouting out Peter's name for help whilst Miguel pins and lays into him the fact that he's an anomaly. This after he momentarily glitches back to his ITSV store-bought suit. Mimicking the way-in also the first movie-Miles shouting out Peter's name for his own rescue as Doc Ock attacks him at the research facility. Because even though he feels hurt by Peter at this point, that's still his dad mentor and he still instinctively looks to him for protection. Rip my heart out why don't you!

Gwen sneaking back into her and her dad's place just to get that printed polaroid of her and Miles, a pic she already has on her phone.

Earth-42 Miles wearing Nike while our Miles wears Jordans.

[tommy-doubterson]

hey. What the hell.

Just for that, here's a few more.

Small is bigger than big. Tall is shorter than short. You get "on" a horse but "in" a car. "No yeah" is yes, "yeah yeah" is no, "yeah no" is no, and "no no" is yes. There is no plural for the word "you". "Queue" is 80% silent letters. You say "unbelievable" but "intolerable".

Don't fucking test me.

The English language is a mess. Here's a list of some more oddities I just looked up.

“Rhythms” is the longest English word without the normal vowels, a, e, i, o, or u.

Excluding derivatives, there are only two words in English that end -shion and (though many words end in this sound). These are cushion and fashion.

“THEREIN” is a seven-letter word that contains thirteen words spelled using consecutive letters: the, he, her, er, here, I, there, ere, rein, re, in, therein, and herein.

There is only one common word in English that has five vowels in a row: queueing.

Soupspoons is the longest word that consists entirely of letters from the second half of alphabet.

“Almost” is the longest commonly used word in the English language with all the letters in alphabetical order.

The longest uncommon word whose letters are in alphabetical order is the eight-letter Aegilops (a grass genus).

The longest common single-word palindromes are deified, racecar, repaper, reviver, and rotator.

“One thousand” contains the letter A, but none of the words from one to nine hundred ninety-nine has an A.

“The sixth sick sheik’s sixth sheep’s sick” is said to be the toughest tongue twister in English.

Cwm (pronounced “koom”, defined as a steep-walled hollow on a hillside) is a rare case of a word used in English in which w is the nucleus vowel, as is crwth (pronounced “krooth”, a type of stringed instrument). Despite their origins in Welsh, they are accepted English words.

“Asthma” and “isthmi” are the only six-letter words that begin and end with a vowel and have no other vowels between.

The nine-word sequence I, in, sin, sing, sting, string, staring, starting (or starling), startling can be formed by successively adding one letter to the previous word.

“Underground” and “underfund” are the only words in the English language that begin and end with the letters “und.”

“Stewardesses” is the longest word that can be typed with only the left hand.

Antidisestablishmentarianism listed in the Oxford English Dictionary, was considered the longest English word for quite a long time, but today the medical term pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis is usually considered to have the title, despite the fact that it was coined to provide an answer to the question ‘What is the longest English word?’.

“Dreamt” is the only English word that ends in the letters “mt”.

There are many words that feature all five regular vowels in alphabetical order, the commonest being abstemious, adventitious, facetious.

The superlatively long word honorificabilitudinitatibus (27 letters) alternates consonants and vowels.

“Fickleheaded” and “fiddledeedee” are the longest words consisting only of letters in the first half of the alphabet.

The two longest words with only one of the six vowels including y are the 15-letter defenselessness and respectlessness.

“Forty” is the only number which has its letters in alphabetical order. “One” is the only number with its letters in reverse alphabetical order.

Bookkeeper is the only word that has three consecutive doubled letters.

Despite the assertions of a well-known puzzle, modern English does not have three common words ending in -gry. Angry and hungry are the only ones.

“Ough” can be pronounced in eight different ways. The following sentence contains them all: “A rough-coated, dough-faced ploughman strode through the streets of Scarborough, coughing and hiccoughing thoughtfully.

Source

I hope you like being outsmarted, English Oddities Anon.

[ladylooch]

Letters in Your Last Name - Chapter 14

A/N: Can you tell I haven't even attempted trying to figure out the queue?? LOL.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: COVID, lil angsty, medical diagnosis, swearing, implied smut,

All I want for Christmas is you. 

“Fuck off, Mariah Carey.” I think to myself on Christmas night at the words of her iconic song filtering in from the Bose speaker in the kitchen.

Silently, I’m sitting in a plush chair in the corner of the living room. The kids are playing with their presents. Alex and Felicia are cleaning up dinner in the kitchen. The fire in the living room is crackling softly, popping on occasion as the logs break down into embers. The snow is falling gently outside and I know if I go out there, the night will be as silent as I imagine it to be. All of us are wearing matching PJs. It’s their family tradition they started when Sawyer was born. They got me a set because they didn’t want me to feel left out. The good intentions were there, but the truth is it makes me feel more alone and out of place.

I wish Kevin was here. I close my eyes and imagine him in Sweden. It’s no longer Christmas there, but I know he was with Andreas and his family. Kevin is used to celebrating the holidays without his family, instead being taken in to others and their traditions. He says he doesn’t mind, but I think he does now, not being here with us. We spoke earlier in the day, but he seemed distracted and distant, which just added to the loneliness I already feel. I know he will be back soon, but my heart longs for him today.

“Sam.” Alex’s voice drifts to me from across the room. I glance in his direction. “You have a visitor.” Him and Felicia share a knowing look.

I peek towards the door, not seeing anyone in the entry way. Confused, I slowly get up, trudging across the carpet. I still don’t see anyone as I glance to the front door.

“Who is it?” I narrow my eyes suspiciously at my brother.

“You’ll see. Grab your coat and mask.” He tells me, giving me nothing more as he turns back to rinsing the dishes. I grab both from the front closet, shrugging my jacket over my pajamas. I flip my hair out of the collar and switch my slippers for my Uggs. I almost fall as I step out onto the front porch.

“Eek!” I squeak, grabbing the front door to stabilize myself.

The light snow from this evening has turned to ice on the porch. Apparently it’s gotten a bit colder as the day has gone on. As I straighten, I look to the right and see a familiar Black Audi parked in the driveway. My mouth drops open in shock and I swing around, looking for him. There, my Christmas present patiently awaits for me. Kevin Fiala’s hands are stuffed into the pockets of his Adidas sweatpants. The ends of his hair are flipping up around the edges of his black hat and he looks so damn delectable even with the white N95 mask on his face. His brown eyes twinkle back at me with the same intensity of the Christmas lights wrapped around the railing.

“Kev!” I move towards him and he holds his hands up in caution.

“Put your mask on, babe. I just got here from the airport.” Behind his mask and in his voice, I can feel the smile on his face. I quickly secure my mask and walk towards him, already forgetting about the slick surface of the porch. I can feel the tears burning my eyes as I reach him. I slip again, but his hands grasp my upper arms to steady me. He pulls me into his arms with no hesitation and I bury my face directly into his chest.

“Hi baby.” He murmurs, holding me close as we sway slightly. He smooths my hair down with his hand, keeping me flush against his chest.

“Hi! I have missed you so much.” I sob to him. Tears are streaming down my face and sinking into the mask on my face. Stupid COVID. Stupid masks. Stupid every layer of cloth keeping us from each other’s skin.

“Me too… Me too.” He lets out a heavy sigh. We stay like that for minutes, maybe even hours, I don’t know. All I know is that the feeling of being in his arms has erased every hard minute of the last few months. All the pain, sadness, and fear is gone and every fiber of my being is pulsing with love for the man in my arms.

“I really want to kiss you.” He finally murmurs to me. I tilt my chin up to look into his face. His hands come up to my cheeks and he cautiously wipes his thumbs under my eyes. “I’d like to kiss these away too.” His eyes are soft as they look into mine.

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” I tell him, snuggling back into his chest. “I thought you weren’t coming until next week?”

“I moved my flight. I told you I would be here as soon as I could. My Visa was approved two days ago and I grabbed the first flight I found.” He admits to me. “I just need to get this quarantine over and then we can really be together.”

“I guess I have to stay here?” I laugh at him, thinking about the current quarantine guidelines for the NHL. Now that he is back, we will both need to be tested for COVID several times the next few days. “I definitely didn’t bring enough clothes.”

“Yeah, at least for 7 days you’ll need to be here. I’ll bring you some clothes tomorrow.” I nod in response and grow quiet again. I close my eyes and listen to the steady beating of his heart. All the days and nights that I dreamed of this moment, don’t even come close to being as good as the real thing. He’s warm, solid, and smells as delicious as I remember.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to let go of you.” I tell Kevin. Truthfully though, the chill is beginning to sneak into my coat. My fingers and nose are ice cold, and yet now that he’s here, I can’t let him leave.

“We have time. I brought a blanket.” He says, reaching down to the porch for the fleece blanket and wrapping it around us.

“You think of everything.” I giggle to him. “I should have brought my mittens out.” I mumble.

“Put your hands in my jacket.” He opens his jacket and I set them against his warm sides. He gives a little shiver in response. I move my hands to his chest and stare at them there, before slowly moving them up to wrap around his neck.

“I’d risk it.” I whisper, desperately wanting to pull our masks down and place our lips together. “It would be worth it.” He leans down and places his forehead against mine.

“You know I want to eat you up, babe. But I’m not going to live with that on my conscious. We are already closer than we should be.”

“I understand.” I nod, meeting his gaze with a soft look.

“Come sit with me.” He points to the swing on the porch. We walk over and wrap together under the blanket. I lay my head against his shoulder as Kevin rocks us gently. “Maybe we can sleep outside tonight?” He jokes, looking at the temperature gage that reads 19 degrees.

We sit on the porch for another hour, talking some but mostly just holding one another. A light snow has begun to fall again. I have lost feeling in my fingers and the parts of my face not protected from the chill of Winter. A hard shiver rolls through me, making me burrow tighter into Kevin’s arms.

“I think it’s time, babe.” Kevin murmurs to me, “You might actually get sick if you stay out here.”

“No.” I pout at him, even as my chattering teeth make it difficult to speak. “I-I’m not that c-cold.” Kevin gives me a sarcastic look and encourages me to stand.

“I’ll be back with your clothes tomorrow… and with extra layers for our porch date.”

“I want less layers on you.” I tell him breathlessly, thinking of just how long it’s been since I’ve had him.

Kevin’s eyes get a little darker and his voice turns dead serious.

“Soon.” He assures me. “I’ve been thinking for months about all the things I want to do to you.”

“Tell me.” I insist, grabbing at his jacket to pull him closer.

“Sam.” Kevin gives me a warning as I reach for the front of his pants.

“You suck.” I whisper out in frustration. Why can’t he just stop caring about my wellbeing and bend me over this railing to fuck me? Whew.. yeah... it’s been awhile.

“I want you to be sucking me.” He winks before grabbing the blanket and guiding me towards the front door.

“In your car?” I question with hopeful eyes. Kevin gives a genuine laugh and in his eyes I can see how large his grin is behind his mask.

“How about when I get back to our place, I call you and walk you through all the areas I want to touch you.” I purse my lips and let out a deep sigh.

“Kevin.”

“Samantha.” He wraps me tightly in his arms again and I burrow into his chest as deep as I can. He strokes my brown hair and rocks us softly back and forth. “I’ll call you in 20 minutes.”

“I love you, Kev.” I mumble to him as we gingerly pull apart.

“I love you too.” He gives me one more longing look before he walks over to the stairs. He looks back at me as he rounds the hood of his car. “Go inside.” He calls to me. I roll my eyes, but do as requested.

From the warmth of the entry way, I watch Kevin’s Audi pull away. He waves to me one last time before he begins his journey to Minneapolis where he will quarantine until all our COVID tests confirm it is safe for me to join him. I smile softly and watch until after his tail lights disappear down the snowy street. My smile follows me into the living room where everyone is snuggled together watching Elf. I unzip my jacket and throw it onto the chair beside the kitchen. Alex glances back at me and gives me a grin.

“Thank you.” I say to him, knowing he could have told Kevin to stay away but didn’t.

“COVID has taken enough from us. It didn’t need to take that too.” He gives me a brief nod.

“We are watching Elf. Want to join?” Felicia wonders as she takes a bite of popcorn.

“No.” I tell her, heading towards the stairs. “I’ve got an important phone call in twenty minutes that I can’t afford to miss.”

She gives me a knowing look then bursts out laughing as Alex puts his head in his hands.

Hey, Alex never said anything about phone sex.

_ _ _

“Auntie, I want to play hockey.” Sawyer puffs out in annoyance.

“I know, bud. I’m sorry.” I give him a frown and open my arms for a hug. All youth sports in the state are still shut down due to increasing case numbers. Sawyer is going stir crazy not being able to play the game he loves. “Come here.” He steps into my embrace and lets out a sad puff of a sigh.

“This isn’t fair.”

“No, it’s not.” I confirm to him.

The kids and I are in the living room trying to pass time while we wait for their parents to return. Alex had an MRI this morning in St. Paul and had follow up appointment immediately after. I’ve been trying to be patient and distract the kids and I with multiple activities throughout the day, but it hasn’t helped. I lay my cheek against my nephew’s head and think back to a few days after Christmas.

Everything was great. Kevin was cleared from quarantine and back to practice with the team. I moved back home with Kevin and we finally got to let out months of built up sexual frustration on each other. Make up sex is nice and all, but have you ever been fucked after missing each other for MONTHS? Cause that is the stuff that makes your body turn into literal jell-o.

Things took a drastic turn when Alex wasn’t immediately cleared to join the team after his physical. Because of having COVID earlier in the Fall, he had to undergo additional testing, including an EKG to ensure there were not lasting effects from the virus. We are still unsure how Alex ever tested positive for COVID being he was asymptomatic and the rest of us constantly tested negative. But this virus works in mysterious ways that we still don’t fully understand. This was confirmed even more when his EKG was irregular. To get a better understanding, doctors ordered an MRI. Until we have more answers, I’ve been keeping Alex’s struggles to myself. I say it’s to protect his privacy, but it’s likely more denial than anything else.

“Can we go play at the park?” Sawyer wonders, pulling back and looking hopeful.

“It’s too cold buddy. Your little fingers would break right off your body.” I tease him, giving him a few ticklish pokes. Sawyer lets out a disappointed sigh and I have to hide my smile from him. Winters in Minnesota can be brutal, especially with kids who have already been holed up for months.

“We can watch Mighty Ducks?” I suggest to him. He immediately nods his head in agreement and jumps onto the couch. The Mighty Ducks is one of his favorite series. During the last lockdown, he kept practicing his knuckle puck on Alex in the driveway.

We are getting to the scene where the Gordon Bombay rolls onto the ice in the limo when Alex and Felicia come walking through the door. Their faces are somber and I know the news they have is not good. I swallow a gulp and wait for what to do. Felicia comes to the couch, gathering her children into her arms and snuggling them in close. I can tell how hard she is trying to keep it together and my heart aches for her.

“Sam, can you come with me?” Alex asks, motioning to his office at the front of the house. I nod and step off the couch to follow him. He shuts the door and pulls out his phone. “I’m going to call mom, dad, and Nick too.” I nod in understanding and settle into the chair on the other side of his desk.

“Hi honey.” I hear my mom answer the phone. She seemingly has been expecting this call. “Your dad and Nick are here too.”

“Good. I’ve got Sam with me.” Alex informs them before running a hand through his hair. “So, the doctor’s confirmed my heart is enlarged on the MRI today.” My mom gasps and lets out a strangled cry. My heart lurches in my chest and begins to pound in response to the curdling fear streaking through me.

“Shit.” I hear Nick say. I can imagine his head is in his hands.

“Yeah..” Alex trails off, letting his words sink in to all of us.

“What are the next steps?” My dad asks. I can hear sniffling and I know it’s my mom crying.

“A lot more appointments. They really didn’t tell me anything except that I need to keep my heart rate down completely for at least 6 weeks. This is something new they are finding in high performing athletes.. so there’s a lot of unknown at this point. They’re going to send my results out to a cardiologist in Boston who specializes in cardiovascular issues specific to professional athletes to get another opinion.”

“That’s good.” Nick says, “the more people involved the better care you will get.” At this point, my mom has begun sobbing. Alex and I share an uncomfortable look.

“That’s really all I know for now. I know this sucks, but we will get some more answers and find a way through.” My heart aches at how strong he is being. I know he is scared, but he is putting on this brave front for my parents. “Felicia and I need to chat with the kids, so I’ve gotta go.”

“You call if you need anything!” My mom blubbers between sobs. Alex insists he will.

“What can I do?” I ask Alex once he ends the call. He looks up at me and I can see the pinch of fear in his eyes. I try not to respond but can’t help the tears building in my eyes.

“Um, I don’t really know yet. Probably just help with the kids.” He shakes his head. “God damn it, this sucks.” He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, bouncing a bit in his seat.

“I’m sorry.” I tell him truthfully. “I don’t know what else to say, but I’m here.”

“Thanks.” Alex nods at my words. “I love you, Sammy.” He calls me by my childhood nickname. “Gosh, mom really lost it there at the end. I feel bad.”

“People get sick, Al. It’s part of life.” I shrug my shoulders.

“As a parent, I get her fear, ya know? If this was one of my kids.. I’d be a mess too.”

“It’s you. And you’re everything to this family…” I trail off, not able to add in anything about what losing him would be like. Alex and I share a loaded glance before I have to turn away, looking out the window at the snowy yard.

“I have more follow ups with the doctors tomorrow, so I should hopefully know some more about my treatment plan. All they really said was nothing for 6 weeks.”

“So no training camp?” I question.

“No. I can’t even be at the rink because of COVID protocols either.” He stands, stuffing his phone into his pocket before walking around the desk to me. He gives me a hug. I’m careful not to squeeze him too hard, worried that he's become too fragile to withstand anything more. “You need to tell Kevin tonight. They’re telling the rest of the team tomorrow morning and he shouldn’t find out that way.”

“I’ll tell him.” I confirm.

When I finally get the chance to call Kevin later in the day, I’m beyond exhausted. The FaceTime jingle rings out until Kevin answers the phone, chewing on a protein bar. I wait as he places his AirPods into his ears.

“Hey babe, are you on your way?” He wonders, taking another bite of his bar and crunching on it. He walks over to the windows in our place, looking out at the skyline.

“No, I’m needed here to figure out dinner.” This is not an infrequent occurrence. When Alex and Kevin are traveling, I find myself staying here late and often to help Felicia with the kids.

“Okay, do you want me to come over?” He asks absentmindedly. My eyebrows pull down in annoyance at his inattention. If he would just look at me, he would see the utter anguish on my features. I sit quietly and wait for him to turn his attention back to me. “Sorry.” He laughs sheepishly, noticing the silence. “The sky looks really cool right now with the sunset.” His grin vanishes when he takes in my face. “What’s up?” He goes to sit on the couch and I can tell I have his full attention now.

“Something is going on with Alex.” I begin slowly. “In order to return to the ice, he had to pass a physical that included an EKG because of what happened with Marco.” Marco Rossi is an up and coming prospect with the Wild who unexpectedly was found to have the same diagnosis as Alex after having COVID. “We thought it was just a formality until the testing came back… irregular. The doctors wanted Alex to get an MRI, which he did, and today they confirmed that his heart is enlarged. He was officially diagnosed with myocarditis.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. So, he’s going to miss training camp and likely the beginning of the season. The doctors said he can’t do anything for at least 6 weeks while we wait for his heart to heal. It’s all really scary. The doctors keep saying this is so new that they don’t know much about it and we are all scared. I mean.. he could literally just drop dead of cardiac arrest out of nowhere.” By the end a sob escapes my lips and I drop my head into my hands to cry. I’ve been strong all day and I can’t pretend with Kevin.

“Baby.. I’m so sorry. I’m coming over.” He ends the FaceTime call as I fall back into the pillows on the bed.

When Kevin enters the room 20 minutes later, I stand and run down the bed towards him. He catches me in his arms and immediately rests his cheek against mine, smoothing my hair. He doesn’t shush me. He doesn’t make any false promises that it will be okay. He’s just present and strong. We stay quietly like that until Kevin walks us back over to the bed. He pulls the covers down and we climb in. I nuzzle my face into his chest and he places a soft kiss on my hair.

As Kevin holds me, my body begins to relax.

“This sucks.” Kevin finally says to me.

“Yeah.” I whimper out. “At this point, the unknown is the scariest part. Like.. what is too much for his heart rate to be up? What if playing with the kids is too much and he just drops dead in the living room.”

“I know it’s scary, babe. But you can’t think about those scenarios right now. He has a team of doctors that are going to ensure he gets the best care. He’s in really great hands.”

“You’re right. He’s lucky.” I murmur, rubbing slow circles into Kevin’s abs. “Did you see him when you got here?

“No Felicia let me in.” I nod in response. “How is he though?”

“Scared. Angry. Shocked. I don’t think this has fully sunk in for him yet.”

“That’s understandable. Maybe you should stay here with them for a few days.”

“No, I want to be home with you. Plus, I think they will want some time to be together as just the four of them.”

“Okay, I support whatever you need to do.”

“Thanks, Kev. And thank you for coming here. You’re everything I’ve needed all day.”

“Of course, there is nowhere else I’d rather be.” Kevin says as he plays with the edge of my sweatshirt.

“No.” I say to Kevin when his hand slides under and reaches for my breast.

“You need a distraction… and I’ve got a great dick.” I giggle at that.

“Baby. We can’t.”

“But you love my dick.”

“Yes I do. Excellent dick. 5 stars.” We both laugh.

“I haven’t had you enough since I’ve been back. It will help.” He insists, sucking lightly on my neck. I sigh and lean into his lips.

“I know it would.” I breathe out. “Later. I promise.” He pulls back begrudgingly. “I’m in charge of dinner and we need to decide what to have. At least, that’s one thing I know I can help with today.”

“Pizza?” He wonders hopefully.

“I’m sure we can convince the kiddos to eat that.” We move to get out of bed and Kevin adjusts himself in his pants. I give him a knowing smile, shaking my head. “Need a minute?”

“I’m good now.”

We step from the guest room and begin to walk up the stairs to the kitchen. I glance over at Kevin who gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. The ache in my chest has lessened to a bearable amount. The kids are in the living room and squeal excitedly when Kevin appears. Serena immediately ropes him into coloring princess pictures with her and Kevin happily obliges.

“Her hair can’t be blue!” Serena laughs, trying to take the blue crayon from Kevin.

“Ah, this is my picture, ma’am. Feedback is not being taken at this time.” Kevin hold his hand up to her as Serena looks away in judgement. Kevin and I share a laugh at the look on her face. In a non-normal day, this brings genuine joy to watch. I leisurely stroll into the kitchen, pulling the Pizza Luce menu off the fridge to pick out items for dinner.

“Kev.” I hear Alex acknowledge my boyfriend. I snap my head up and watch my older brother closely. Kevin stands up and gives my brother a hug along with a pat on the back. They share a nod and step apart. “Pizza for dinner?” Alex asks me as he walks to the fridge.

“Yeah, I figured something easy would be best.”

“Okay. Get some dessert too. I’m starving.”

“What’s new.” I roll my eye jokingly at him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Alex gives me a dismissive wave before joining Kevin and the kids on the floor. “Blue hair? Is that cool in Sweden?”

“For sure.” Kevin laughs. “You should try it. The blue would look good with our jersey colors.”

“Blue might be too much. Although fire engine red is appealing.” Alex reads off the color of the crayon.

“Daddy, no.” Sawyer says with total seriousness that makes all of us laugh loudly.

As the laughing settles into a comfortable silence, I find myself smiling despite the heaviness of the day.

For the first time since early this morning, I feel like everything is going to be okay.

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Roulette

The commuters shuffled along the platform. It was a game of memory and chance: the placement of the doors, a roulette wheel on tracks, gamblers placing bets on where the ball would land. It changed, slightly, where the train slowed to a stop. A metre to the left. Two to the right. Small margins, but they made all the difference for those who made the winning call.

The trophy was a seat - but usually only one. Sometimes two; seldom three. Never more. The carriages filled up at previous stations, and the also-rans were left crowded in the gangway, hovering just outside the toilet door. On occasion there were no seats at all - confirmed after a frantic search by all parties - with the victor left to gnash their teeth, their triumph scorned, and slink back to join the rest.

The competition was always the same. Six of them, catching the 8:16 to Hariton. They grew to know each other, after a fashion, but only from the surface - their appearance, their favoured placement, their speed in changing course when the wheels began to slow. The Nepalese woman was always chewing gum, but she never offered a stick to those who stood beside her. The fair-haired man carried a company umbrella, but he never shared it in the rain.

Anything more was unthinkable. It was a winner-takes-all world, jostle or be jostled. There was no place for friendship on Platform 1. Conversation was limited to complaints above delays, and even then they were announced to the world at large, as much a general musing as a comment inviting response. There was no eye contact, let alone a sense of camaraderie. They stood together in the trenches, but this war was all against all.

Today's train, however, was different. The screens along its flanks did not read HARITON, as they usually would; a reminder for those awaiting trains to the opposite end of the line. Instead - as the commuters noticed on its approach, their eyes keenly focused on the prize - they bore no destination at all. Only a single word.

RUN.

They did not. Could not, if they wanted to have a chance at a seat. The commuters had chosen their positions, lined themselves up against the opposite platform, and were loathe to relinquish them to a rival now, at the moment of truth. The train was already running late, and they weren't going to risk missing it over some display malfunction.

An empty warning came with a dozen innocent explanations, and they weren't about to let it distract them from their game. It would be a service announcement, they thought - REDUCED SERVICE TO RUN THIS SUNDAY - merely glitched, frozen as it rolled across the screen. Or perhaps it was the start of another stop, RUNSFIELD or RUNCORN or somewhere like that; an acronym, RAIL UNION NETWORK or similar; even a random assortment of letters, the system broken entirely.

The train slowed, as normal, and they shuffled along to chase its stops. It was the rear carriage they always aimed for. The previous stops had short platforms, and filled from the front first; if there was an empty seat, it would always be towards the back. This morning the Nepalese woman - her nationality known to the other commuters by dint of telephone calls with her son, which sometimes echoed across the silent platform - had positioned herself best, and she led the hunt for that elusive throne, with the others boarding close behind.

They followed her down the aisle, hoping for further spoils to share, or to notice a seat that she had missed - it had been known to happen, once or twice, with the pressure of the queue behind. With eyes thus peeled, they noticed that the displays on the roof of the carriage - which normally bore the coach number, subject to other announcements - carried the same message. RUN.

Again, the hunters remained undeterred. But now, rather than speculating at its meaning, they were otherwise engaged: against all expectation, and what seemed like possibility, there were enough seats for all six of them. Several each, in fact - the carriage was empty, where it was usually full. Curious, the fair-haired man passed through into the adjoining coach, and found that it was likewise bare.

For the first time in weeks, they looked at each other. Eyes met over empty seats, strangers for once acknowledging each other's presence, rivals dropping a well-practised guard. But even then, they remained silent - lost for anything sensible to say. There was no explanation they could grasp for, no question they could raise that wasn't obvious. They would all be thinking the same thing, just as they had all arrived united in their goal, and all turned to look as the outer doors hissed closed, and the train began to move again.

The stalemate was broken by the fair-haired man, who returned from the carriage in front, his skin even paler than usual. His eyes dark and wild. His fingers convulsing with fear.

"Run," he said.

[simpinggforeverything]

Secret poetical confessions

Loki x reader

Summary: Words written for a special someone reach your ear as you find yourself reading in the gardens,sun slowly setting. But which quill are they emanataing from and to whom are they addressed?

Warnings: none

Words: 1.1k

"Irrevocably seeks my heart the solace of your fingers. Yearning for the ghost of your touch, as it tenderly lingers..."

The breath of the wind carried the soft voice that carefully uttered those words of poetry to my ear and resulted in me looking up curiously from the book being held tightly in my grasp. In fact, it was not easy to keep myself from reading, especially when I was captivated by the compelling words of my favourite author. 

But was it so surprising that such lovely words with almost dreamy resonances did just that? Stop me from pursuing in one of my most beloved activities?

"Some would say a beating heart is what keeps the body breathing and from riving. Oh, I'd like to oppose, as for me it's a kiss briming over with the tenderness of your love - a love, resulting in my entire being ready to be thriving."

My mind did its best to follow the almost sung words. I tried hard to assign a person to the voice, but the place from which it originated was far too distant. 

However, it had to belong to a poet. That much was certain. And a romantic one at that, whose heart has assumably been stolen; if one were to go by the ardent expression of their voice and the content of their poetic words.

"Agonizing hours spend alone, wishing for a change in fate, seemingly being carved in stone. Where does it lead - the path letting wander my feet?"

Stunned by the words that followed the last, I felt my heart tighten a little. Excruciating, lonely hours? The voice now showed itself from a completely different side, a side that would pull another one's ground out from under its feet, caused by pain and despair.

It sounded pleadingly and was crying out for some kind of healing. And something inside me hoped to be able to offer the voice just that: deliverance from its suffering.

Everyone needed some salvation, didn't they? Even those who had already been abandoned and rejected by society's cruel beliefs deserved a little generosity—however small it may be.

"Does it lead to you, my sweet? You, who keeps dark thoughts at bay? Or to the long queue, only waiting to be the ones to win your heart and proceed to play?"

The very idea that someone of their caliber would have to take a backseat, while others were fighting for the attention of the love of their life was incomprehensible to me. Unimaginable even.

Who wouldn't choose a poet with such a wide range of vocabulary? If you will pardon my expression, I would drop everything, without batting an eye, to listen to this wondrous voice and its poetry for even a few more seconds. 

Surely the love it named would also decide for it. It would be incomprehensible why not. The voice's partner would have their own poems, poems that sprang from the writer's pen just for them.

"Whatever task I have to cope, I'll make sure I'll send you my heart in a letter's envelope; quipped with the evidence of my undying devotion. In good faith, please note, I love you and wish they will show; these words that I wrote.."

With these last words, the sound of the wind also faded away. Just as the rustling of leaves and the singing of birds. Everything around me fell almost completely silent, as if this enchanting declaration of love would be touching their hearts equally. 

I would not be to blame them. My heart was also gripped by a feeling being foreign to me mere moments ago. It reminded me of melancholy and a hint of longing? I was uncertain, except I knew it was missing something – or maybe someone...

"It's no use!" an abrupt cry tore me out of my thoughts and out of the little bubble, in which I had withdrawn. "Such words are meaningless in comparison to her beauty. They would never be able to capture the true feelings I harbor for her." 

So, it was a she then. She was indeed very lucky; whoever she may was.

The voice continued angrily, but I couldn't make out any of its words, it was already too far away. I would have loved to know who it belonged to, though it seemed like it remained an unsolved mystery. 

But that's exactly what made boring everyday life exciting, wasn't it? Smiling at my attempt to cheer myself up, I closed my book and looked up at the sky, heart heavy. 

Surprised the sun was already giving way to the moon and its faithful companions - the stars - I admired the darkening night sky. The sight of the setting sun presenting itself to me was comparable to the beauty of the declaration of love; only instead of using words, the many celestial bodies fulfilled this task now. 

It was a moment I would carry in my heart forever. A moment I would love to share with a certain someone.

"You know, most people go to their chambers at this hour, don't you, darling?" 

As if the universe had read my mind, it sent me exactly the person I wanted near me in this moment.

"However, it is precisely because of my decision to stay here, that most people miss out on this breathtaking view." Making some space next to me, I turned to Loki, who sat down gracefully as always. 

"I have nothing to oppose to that. This view is truly a sight for the gods." A smile crossed his face at my words: "It's good we're sitting here then, isn't it, dear?"

Rolling my eyes, I hit my own shoulder against his playfully, gaze still fixed on the starry sky.

"Asgard's night sky must be the most beautiful of all in the Nine Realms, don't you agree? This extraordinary play of colours alone is not offered to anyone but us. I just can't imagine it being different."

Interested in his reply, I gave him all my attention. But nothing came. His gaze was fixed on the stars above us and a satisfied smile sat on his face. There was still no trace of a reply.

"Loki?", smiling, I addressed my next words to him, "I know I'm not the most interesting person, but this boring? Come on! What are you thinking about?"

This time something seemed to be stirring inside him and luckily his eyes, that were glittering in the starlight, settled on me: "Sorry, darling. What did you say?"

Now it was my turn to laugh. "Oh, Loki. You and your wandering thoughts. Everywhere and nowhere at the same time." I gave him a small smile. "What was it this time that captivated you so dearly?"

Before a word escaped his lips, his emerald eyes began to sparkle even more; almost as if they had captured the twinkle of the stars themselves.

"Oh, you know, love..I'm just enjoying the beautiful view," his eyes wandered from my face back to the moon that had risen.

"and the lovely company." But to your chagrin, these words never passed his lips and remained hidden in the depths of his heart. Maybe he would be confident enough to say them out loud one day...and perhaps even the poem he wrote just for you.

[goldemas1244]

Bonus Headcanoon (just for fun)!

Zhask is capable of learning any language as long as he's heard the words being spoken before. Of course, this also means that he's an audio thesaurus. Learning by sound and association.

Just don't show him the text or ask him to write something down, he can't bloody read. He doesn't even know the letters.

But of course he CAN learn. Usually by digging deep into the brains of other people. But he and Yve had had an agreement not to do that unless if the situation needs it direly (like when they're about to die with very important information). Of course that usually never happens so he's stuck with scratching his (and Jawhead's) noggin with the ABCs.

Sample dialogues:

"What do you mean it's spelled with a C and a B? The noise is K and M! Why is it spelled C R U M B but sounds like K-RUM??"

- Learning his Cs, Ks, and silent letters.

"Why are there spelling differences. You're telling me that if I spell it according to a different region's spelling it's wrong systematically??"

- Learning the spelling differences depending on where you come from.

"Are there 24 letters? 25?? 26??? How are we still so confused about this????"

- Dude I don't know either man.

"We never had this problem on Kastiya."

- Grampa.

"Back in my day if we couldn't think we had to spend an hour mental training. You mean to tell me you children get put into a corner?? No I will no- fine I'll go to the corner and think about my pitiful life choices."

- Grampa recalls the good ol' days.

"Oh you're giving your peculiar letters to my Kastiyan words now aren't you. Yve, we talked about this, Kastiyan stays Kastiyan."

- It's slightly offensive to him. He'll grow into it.

"Speaking of, HOW THE FUCK DO I EVEN SPELL YOUR NAME??? Y E E V? E V E?? E E V??? Oh wait it's Y V E okay Y V E.... Who named you???"

- What we all thought of except backwards.

"Zhask. Z H A S K. That's clear enough. Why can't you have a name like mine YVE?"

- Well-placed sass is a sign of a healthy mind.

"Spell C A T. Oh I am not going through this again. C A T. Oh that was right? OH THANK GOD-"

- Achievement!

"Shaloshta (mom/mother)... I want to go home... I'm scared... there's a Q...."

- Learning of the existence of Qs and queues.

"THERE'S DIFFERENT LETTERS???"

- Learning that no, not everybody uses the same set of letters on this planet too.

And the list goes on....

[ifidogaysomyself]

i think the actual funniest thing that happened to me as a non-native english speaker is that when i first saw the word "queue" i (obviously) didn't know how it's actually pronounced. but, rather than pronouncing it as coo-u or kiwi or kyuyu or literally any other variation of that, my brain went 'ah, repeating letters. we've seen this before. the q must be silent' and so i went years of my life pronouncing queue as wiwi (or, if you want to get fancy, ouioui) until someone made the "the ueue is useless in queue" comment in front of me and i just stared at the screen rethinking all of my life choices

[mimikyu-chr]

being chronically dissociated isn’t the most talked about DID symptom but it’s a complete nightmare to live with and i hate it so much.

i’m rarely fully grounded, i always feel like the smallest trigger is gonna send me back to not knowing who i am again. i’m on autopilot a lot, just going through the motions of life, not truly living it. i spend most of my time feeling at least partially out of it and people make a lot of assumptions based on that. it’s also exhausting, and it puts me in… situations. these range from ‘i wasn’t focused on being grounded and didn’t notice the queue moved’ to ‘my younger sibling stopped me walking into traffic because i wasn’t able to ground myself enough to be aware of my surroundings outside’

[wewouldgobackintime]

"queue"

if i see another person saying "it doesn't make sense" or "the last 4 letters are actually silent" i'm gonna lose it

so

the word comes from the french "la queue" /kø/ which in turn come from the latin "cauda". so let's get through this letter by letter:

<qu> actually belongs together, as it is orthographically reminiscent of the latin phoneme /kw/, but the w was dropped from pronunciation as early as the proto-romance stage of french (~ 3rd - 4th centuries ce) while the spelling stayed (see also que, qui, etc). (english example where it's still /kw/: status quo)

the <eu> also belongs together as a former diphthong that got monothtonged to [ø] in later old french

and the last <e> is simply a female marker

in conclusion, every letter in <queue> has a good reason to be there, as long as you see that it was a loanword where no one bothered to change the spelling. the pronunciation /kju:/ just happens to be the way the letter <q> is pronounced on its own in english, but to say that the other letters are silent is just not true (i haven't seen the same argument made about "b", "c", "i" (for "eye), "j", "p", "r", "u", "x" or "y" which can all form words (or parts thereof) but it's easy to see that language just doesn't work like that and the relationship between letters and their corresponding sounds is simply not that close). "queue" is pronounced like that because english takes the /k/ from the french pronunciation, replaces /ø/ with /u/ and adds a /j/ (like "cue"). and the last <e> is silent even in french because it has a morphological reason to be there, not a phonological one.

[jobs-in-education]

Top 10 Team-Building Games Your Teaching Employees To Enjoy

It's critical to foster a sense of teamwork among educators as the school year gets underway in order to promote development and morale. Get your teaching job team and staff together for some time spent creating memories, fostering relationships, and lifting spirits all year long. Teams that function well as a unit succeed, yet this frequently calls for close relationships. This connection translates into clear communication, trust, and a level of familiarity that makes coworkers feel at ease. Encourage your team to take part in team-building exercises and games to forge bonds and improve your team dynamics. This article provides a list of several games and activities that can be used to inspire teamwork among employees.

Best Games for Teamwork

Here is the list of games you can consider for teaching jobs professionals as a school administrators-

Exercise for a Gratitude Attitude 

Place various school supplies like erasers, dry-erase markers, and worn textbooks, all over the classroom. Assign a recipient for each teacher's "gift" and provide them with paper bags. Everyone has 30 seconds to rush around and put anything in their gift bag once you sound the buzzer. Even if the gift is chewed gum, the recipient must take it out when the timer goes off, show the team, and thank the other person by complimenting the gift, a terrific method to develop gratitude for things that are "unlovely" or that we take for granted.

Scavenger Hunt for Mindfulness 

Assign instructors to teams based on grade levels or subject areas, and have them complete a scavenger hunt while documenting their journey. They can search for amusing things like "best hiding place from teachers" or "door that no one knows where it goes" or kind things like "something a student might find encouraging" or "a great view to see the sky." Reconvene and share your discoveries. This is a fantastic exercise for teamwork and assessing the environments and messages your school is giving to its kids.

Jump In and Jump Out 

It is a playful physical exercise to help you learn how difficult it may be to follow directions, even for teachers! Hold hands while standing in a circle. The group will receive four commands from one instructor: jump left, jump right, jump in, and jump out. In round two, the instructor issues an order once more, but this time the group is required to say what the instructor says while acting in opposition to it. 

The six degrees of separation theory 

To complete this partner activity, instructors will pair up and list five things they share in common. Each individual must then choose a new partner who shares at least one of the items on her list after the list is full. A fresh list of five items they have in common must then be created. This keeps happening until every instructor in the class has at least one item in common with everyone else.

Save Your Sanity 

Ask educators to discuss how they "save their sanity." They can exchange phone apps (such as a preferred white noise app for peaceful reading, a budgeting app, or a grocery list app), a preferred weekend vacation that won't break the bank, or businesses that provide teacher discounts. Sharing life hacks both inside and outside the classroom is a terrific way to bring your staff closer together.

The Shape Shifter 

Give each team a long length of rope tied so it fits around the group of people in a circle as you divide the group into teams of five to ten. Put blindfolds on everyone, and have them surround the rope while taking five steps back. They have 30 seconds to return to the circle, grab the rope, and then construct the shape that has been called, using just their voices to direct one another. 

Last Names in Order 

Inform everyone in the room that they have two minutes (or more or less, depending on the size of the gathering) to silently queue in alphabetical order by last name. You can also use the initial letter of the person's first name or their birthday (month and day).

Foot Race 

Painter's tape should be used to create a line down the center of your area (or more if you have multiple teams). The group must glide sideways down the length of the tape while maintaining contact between the ankle bones. The group must restart if members lose communication. This promotes communication as the team determines how to move the tape down together.

What Just Took Place? 

This is a wonderful team-building exercise that helps with memory and concentration. Amass a few entertaining accessories before the game, such as tiny items that fit in a pocket, scarves, or comical glasses. As the teams stand face to face, instruct team one to watch team two. Team two alters five facets of its appearance by utilising props or by coming up with creative changes to other items. Team one exits. Returning within 30 seconds to note the five changes is the opposing team.

Have fun with Clay 

Give the teachers a clay ball, some toothpicks, and a table. Teachers appreciate a good learning challenge. Make a line on the table with a piece of painter's tape. The task is to use the toothpicks and clay to create a cantilever construction, which begins behind the line and then extends out over the line without touching the table. The cantilever structure that reaches out the farthest without collapsing wins. The team gets ten minutes to put it together. 

Source - Jobs in Education Blog

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing ii. | m

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 245

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

The next time you see Jungkook you’re slower than he is when it comes to avoiding his presence. You were smart but Jungkook was sneaky—a characteristic that allowed him to weasel his way into your heart and your mind.

“Sweets.” He calls, tone smiling and your heart flutters unconsciously to the term of endearment that sounded a lot more taunting than it should be.

“We’re in public.” You hiss, reminding him of what you were—his secret.

He seems pleased with your reaction like he enjoys flustering you till no end that proves his upper hand when it came to your dynamics. You weren’t sure when it happened but one day he decided he wasn’t your younger friend Jungkook but Jungkook who could dampen your panties with just his smile.

“You didn’t seem to mind at the party.” He shrugs.

You glare at him shifting away from his body that leans closer when he joined you in the study booth. You chose this particular place because it was secluded away from the main area of the library, tucked in a corner where no one ever goes because it was deadly silent.

So you have no idea what the hell is Jungkook doing here, especially when you knew he had a game earlier; given he’s still in his jersey and with the musky scent of sweat and his laundry detergent.

“I’m studying.” You clip.

You avoid Jungkook’s gaze because you know one look and you’ll melt. But you needed to toughen up because you weren’t going to fall pliant to his touch anymore, or his smile or his smooth words. You remember who he is and who you were.

“Me too.” Jungkook retorts, purposefully sliding closer with a random book he’s snatched from the shelves.

You purse your lips and straighten your back, focusing purely on the task at hand rather than the fact that Jungkook was trying his best to make as much contact with your shoulder as he possibly could with his own.

Jungkook huffs when he realises that you weren’t budging, fully stuck in a half-study-half-dazed mode whenever he was around. What he didn’t know was that with every press against your stature, was a flutter in response.

“Why aren’t you celebrating?” You mutter.

Jungkook grins when he realises you’re casually flipping through your textbook while you await his response. He leans on his palm while staring straight at your face, eyes set directly on your cheek that it makes you flush harder.

“I am.” He replies smoothly, “With you.”

You roll your eyes at the flirtatious attempt even if it did make your stomach feel funny. Jungkook made you feel things out of your own control but you knew better than to continue falling for the same tricks over and over again.

“I need to study so leave me alone.” You clip.

Jungkook pouts in a mocking manner before leaning back into his chair, wrapping his arm around the back of your chair.

“You’ve been avoiding me, sweets.”

You freeze at the statement, fingers tightly gripping the sheets of paper while you force yourself to keep a neutral expression.

“No, I haven’t.” You say tightly.

Jungkook scoffs, “I’m not stupid, babe. You’ve been avoiding me ever since the night of the party.”

The night of the party was a reminder to yourself that Jungkook was horrible for you because he made you act out of your rationale, willing you to do things that you’d never do. And you made that mistake once and you weren’t going to make it again.

“And if I was?” You retort.

Jungkook tongues the inside his cheek before looking ahead, a light smirk painting his face. It’s an expression you know intimately because it’s a look he only has when he knows you’ve always been pliant for him, ready to please.

“Then I’d be really disappointed.”

“Good. I was serious.” You snap, eyes finally darting to his face in slits and he’s already looking at you.

“But you’re not pushing me away, are you?” Jungkook asks in a low voice, and somehow his palm has splayed itself on your thigh, spreading them wide enough for him to rub tempting circles on your skin.

You don’t, because while his touch is scalding it’s just as addictive.

“Leave me alone, Jungkook.” You say through a shaky breath.

He chuckles darkly and then his nose is nudging your jaw, breath hot on your neck while he hikes his hand higher up your skirt.

“You don’t seem like you want me to leave you alone, hm?” He mumbles onto your neck, causing goosebumps to arise.

Your grip on the desk tightens when he brushes his finger over the fabric of your panties and you’re mortified to realise that it’s already damp. Jungkook realises this too and he chuckles against your jaw, biting into the flesh that has you gasping.

“I-I need to study …” You choke when he presses firmly onto your clit, your hips jumping at the stimulation.

“I heard you, sweets.” He hums, “Think you can multitask?”

You hate how he reduced you to nothing but mush, reasoning and pride out the window when he pushes your panties aside to spread the slickness of your pussy with his index finger.

“J-Jungkook …” You whimper.

His nose is pressed against your cheek when he trails his lips across your jaw, down your chin and eventually your neck. The feeling of his lips is familiar but distant and it only makes your heart clench at the unattainable feeling.

You remember that he wasn’t yours. That he is as much Jennie’s as you were his; and your eyes widen in alarm, hands reaching out to grip at his wrist before he can slip a digit into your leaking hole.

“I said we can’t keep doing this.” You say weakly.

Jungkook frowns at you when you pull away completely, crossing your legs so that he won’t have easy access anymore. Your cheeks are hot and it’s both in arousal and embarrassment because you’ve easily allowed him into your heart via your body yet again, despite your own mind warning against it.

“What gives?” He asks irritatedly like he doesn’t understand why you’re pulling away.

You don’t expect him to, not when he has all the options in the world and the only person that sees you like this is … him.

“I’m busy.” You lie through your teeth. You haven’t been paying attention to your books the moment he’s arrived and you were far too distracted to continue.

Jungkook scoffs, narrowing his eyes at you when you firmly avoid his stare.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. You’ve been acting weird ever since the party and you literally just upped and left when I joined you and Jimin the other day.” He bites, “So I’m asking again: what gives?”

You keep your lips shut because you don’t have the courage to tell him that it’s your heart that’s tired. That you don’t think you can do this anymore because it hurts too much when he pulls away and pretends like nothing happened, only to return when it’s convenient.

“You know I don’t like it when people don’t answer me, baby.” He growls, mouth impossibly close to your ear.

You tighten your grip on the table as you clench your jaw, trying to even out your breathing so you don’t say anything rash.

“You’re really testing my patience here, ______.”

And you’re still floored at how this was the same Jungkook that used to thank you with a wide grin every time you offered help with his homework in high school, or when he’d hold umbrellas for the both of you. This was Jungkook, but older, and a lot meaner.

“I just need to study, Jungkook …” You say softly, hoping he’d take that as his queue to leave.

“And I just want to have fun, sweets.” He whispers, lips close to the shell of your ear.

The word throws you off, and you feel the anger rise.

“Fun? That’s all I am to you? A fun time?” You fume.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sudden one-eighty shift of your mood when you snap at him. But like you mentioned, he wasn’t the same, shy Jungkook that used to follow you around everywhere—this was someone different.

“What are you implying?” He furrows his brows at you.

“I’m saying—” You poke into his chest with fierce eyes, “—I don’t want to be just a fun time anymore. I’m done with … whatever this is, Jungkook.”

Jungkook locks his jaw before staring at you with dark and unreadable eyes.

“You say this now but we both know that I’m the only one that can make you scream the way you do.” He whispers.

You shiver but stand your ground.

“I don’t care. What my mind and what my body wants are two different things. And I’m telling you that all of this has to stop.” You gesture to your bodies.

“What is this really about?” He sighs, “Come on. Tell me like a big girl.”

He leans back, brash and with a lazy smirk on his face like he’s half-expecting you to apologise and fall back onto him, mouth on his cock like an apology letter. But you’re so so tired and your heart hurts because you think of Jennie. You think of the same mouth that holds all the words to hurt you on hers, and you prepare for it.

“It’s because I’m done with you, Jungkook!” You seethe, “You can’t have two girls at once especially when you’re only halfway in my door and living in her house.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, “Two girls—?”

“I saw the video of you and Jennie.” You whisper, “I don’t know when the fuck that happened. If it was before you pulled that stunt in the bathroom or after—but I don’t want anything to do with that.”

You quickly clear your belongings and stand up to leave, but Jungkook has a tight grip on your wrist so that you can’t walk away.

“Why are you mad about that?” He asks, genuinely confused.

You gape at him, opening and closing your mouth to find the right words to say but they all fall short.

“Why—what? Are you not hearing yourself? Of course, I’m fucking pissed! You finger me like some fucking pornstar and kiss me like I’m yours and the next thing you know it you’re kissing some other girl while pretending like I don’t exist. Like we weren’t friends that grew up together or the fact that you and I were close before you turned into this asshole.”

Jungkook blinks at you.

“We are still friends …” He says slowly.

You want to rip your hair out because having this conversation only tires and hurts you further, but Jungkook is oblivious to the internal dilemma that you were having with your own heart.

“Friends don’t do this shit to each other, Jungkook.” You hiss, “You don’t fuck someone over because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”

“Why are you acting as if you weren’t as into it as I was?” Jungkook retorts, tone defensive.

“It’s because I was! I was so fucking into it that it blindsided me! I don’t do this shit, Jungkook—not with anyone else and it just had to be you that this happened to me with.”

Jungkook pauses, and his eyes turn impossible dark. His face is terrifying when he inches closer, all evidence of other emotions but blankness and fury painting his features.

“If it wasn’t me then no one would’ve ever touched you.” He spits as your eyes widen at his tone, “I did you a favour by deciding that you were worth it. And maybe you’re not because clearly you got attached and you want shit to be exclusive, right?”

You stare at Jungkook because Jungkook was mean but never like this. Never personal and poking at all your unhealed wounds.

“Jung—”

“Shut up,” He sneers, “I strung you around because I felt bad for you. Twenty-five and a virgin? If not me then who else, hm? Jimin wouldn’t touch you and neither would Tae. You’re just an uptight prude with a stick up her ass that can’t do anything but study. And yeah—I kissed Jennie. Right after I fingered you so hard that you cried because at least she won’t just sit there like a starfish and take whatever’s given to her.”

You blink at Jungkook, arms limp by your sides when he spits all the venomous words to your face, unapologetic when his eyes burn with intense disdain for the person he was talking to.

Everything is numb, and you can’t react because you don’t know how to. But you feel a tear slip past your eye because it’s hot—it’s hot compared to the cold atmosphere that crackles in the air.

Every single one of your insecurities was thrown out the window without a single care and Jungkook looked damned sure that he meant every word. And it hurts even more because you remember confiding him in the same things he was weaponising.

You don’t say anything at all, but your body reacts and more tears fall despite your mortification.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Jungkook.” You say through a choked breath, shoving past him with your belongings tucked tightly against your body.

Jungkook doesn’t even chase after you, frozen into place with his own words that left his mouth.

[the-super-amazing-foxxy]

For the ship asks; Your opinion on Silent Knight? (Jaune x Neo)

I'm aware it exists and that's about it - but what the hell, you gotta always try something at least once

Who said "I love you" First?

Neo by grabbing a marker, a piece of paper, writing down "I'm in love with you DUMBASS!" on it and showing it to his face

Who kissed who first

Jaune kissed Neo first, in contrast to her making the confession

Who made the first move?

Neo by way of suggestive smirks, winks, and waving at him when they'd run into each other

Their Song

"Don't Cry" by Guns N' Roses (Alternate Lyrics ver.)

My "Happily Ever After" for them

Neo gets some form of redemption but remains the token evil teammate - not that Team JNR would want it any other way

Do they have matching tattoos?

Not matching so much as Neo has a sword-themed tramp stamp

An NSFW headcanon

Much to Neo's surprise Jaune is a very horny lad, as such they fuck like rabbits

Hardest to get out of bed in the morning?

Both of them, but whereas Jaune will sleep in till maybe about 10 or so, Neo can and will sleep in till at least 2

Who engages in PDA?

Both of them

Who randomly adds stuff to the Netflix/Hulu queue?

Jaune

A random headcanon

Neo leaves little love letters written on sticky notes all over the place for Jaune to find

Who the hell is blasting their music so goddamned loud?

Neo

Who forgot to take the fucking phone off speaker at the worst time?

Neither of them, Neo mainly texts so she avoids this entire problem

Send me a ship and I'll fill this little list out with it!

[usermoreid]

Darkened Nights (Violent Things)

Fic Week Day Two: Alternate ending to an episode

“I choose Aaron Hotchner. He's a classic narcissist. He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4. ‘Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense’.”

The silence in the room was palpable. In almost perfect synchronicity, every head turned to face the man in question only moments before he stormed out of the room, footsteps echoing throughout the house.

"I'm not a narcissist," he said, pacing back and forth as the others entered the room, slowly as if approaching a wild animal that could attack at any second.

"Come on. Look, you can't think anything from that. He's not in his right mind, Hotch," Gideon tried to reassure him, quickly stopping when he was interrupted.

"No, stop. Stop." The room fell quiet once again. "Alright, everybody right now - what's my worst quality?" His head turned frantically around the room, taking in everyone's hesitancy to answer. "Okay, I'll start. I have no sense of humour."

"You're a bully," JJ said hardly a second after he'd finished.

"I'm a bully," he repeated.

"You can be a drill sergeant sometimes."

"Right."

"You don't trust women as much as men."

"Okay, good. I'm all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't, ever. So why did Reid say that I do?"

"Don't jump to any conclusions just yet. Reid is smart. For all we know, he could have been leaving clues this entire time. We just need to find what they are."

"Clues? We don't even know if Reid's aware that we saw that!" His voice raised at Gideon as an exasperated arm was thrown in the air. "What sort of clue is 'narcissist'? That doesn't lead us anywhere. Like you said, Reid is smart. His clues would be more obvious than that."

He turned on his foot, heading back in the direction he came from. The others all shared a look of trepidation before following after him. They'd never seen their boss so unsettled, and in turn it was fraying their nerves in an already precarious situation. Gideon was the only one to look unperturbed but even Emily, who had spent such little time around the man, could see the tightness around his mouth and the stiff way in which he stood. He may have been acting as though he wasn't bothered but they could see right through him. Despite this, they walked on without mentioning it, knowing how private of a man Gideon was.

Back in the computer room, the tension was so thick it was almost suffocating, squeezing their hearts like a clenched fist prepared to strike at any moment. They were all on edge, staring intently at each blank screen as if they would come to life, the answer to the question that was plaguing them all displayed clearly on the screen. But there were no bold letters written out in front of them. There was no easy solution. Their youngest team member was still at the mercy of an unsub that had seemingly no plan to let him leave alive and they had no way of finding him.

Hotch cursed softly under his breath and stalked out of the room once more after several minutes had passed without so much as a mumble from anyone. The team knew better than to feel any shock at Hotch's out of character expletive; none of them could blame the man for not acting like himself. Instead, they looked to Gideon for guidance. The older man held a single hand up, preventing them from joining him in going after Hotch. He searched through the rooms, not finding his colleague in any of them, and then the grounds outside. It was a few feet in front of the house that he finally spotted him. If it wasn't for the gentle rise and fall of his chest, he could've been mistaken for a statue.

"He's still alive."

Hotch showed no sign of having heard Gideon approaching or settling a few steps behind him, and yet he didn't startle at the words, his stare remaining off into the darkness.

"You can't prove that."

"It's Reid. He always survives."

A small sound filled the air. It would have passed for a chuckle if the bitterness had not been so clear, as if it had rotted within him before being set free.

"You know, sometimes I feel like God sent Reid to me for a reason; as if there was something I could do for him. I couldn't even teach him how to deal with the emotional side of this job before I sent him into what's probably going to be the most traumatising thing he's ever going to experience."

"Then you help him through the aftermath. You still have time, Hotch. Your work isn't done."

Hotch shook his head. "I can't save him."

"All by yourself? Probably not, but I wouldn't be surprised if you did. You've got an entire team in there, Hotch, ready to risk everything. You helped him become the agent he is. If there's anybody that can help him again now, it's you. You understand him. I'm sure there's something Reid mentioned that tells us where he is, but we need you to not treat this like he's already gone."

Neither of them spoke. The only noise between them was the delicate wind, soft whispers floating throughout the air as if sending a message that he couldn’t quite decipher. Hotch’s head dropped down to face the dirt below him, a queue for Gideon to leave that he thankfully took, making his way back to the house that he was beyond tired of seeing. A small breath left Hotch’s lips, almost a sigh but not quite. He knew that Gideon was right. Standing outside staring at the ground wasn’t helping anybody but Hankel, and yet he couldn’t quite find it in himself to turn around. Spencer’s words were playing on repeat in his mind.

“He's a classic narcissist. He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team.”

Was he right? Of course he was, Hotch thought to himself. Spencer was never wrong, and he wouldn’t use the word ‘narcissist’ so lightly. But if he truly did put himself above the rest of his team, could he really trust himself to do what was best for one of its members? After all, everybody else was in that god-forsaken house, working tirelessly to bring Spencer home, and here he was: standing alone outside, focusing on his own problems instead of helping them.

With a shuddering breath, he turned around, pausing for only a moment before heading back to his team. Reid may have been right about the narcissism, but he would do everything in his power to get him back regardless. Reid was still alive, and he intended to find him that way as soon as he possibly could.

They all worked until the sun came up, the bright gold rays almost taunting them as they shone in through the windows. It was as the morning light hit that Hotch finally managed to force some of them to sleep. Morgan, JJ and Garcia were the firsts to go, though Morgan was only out for barely two hours before he returned, letting Gideon rest instead. Hotch felt the need to ask if he’d managed to get any sleep at all but based on the drooping of his eyes and the anxious clenching of his fists, he felt it wasn’t necessary.

They continued the search, finding dead end after dead end, and all the while both Hotch and Morgan refused to sleep. Prentiss eventually conceded, taking JJ’s space once she’d woken up. Hotch was rather impressed by how well she functioned on such little rest but he didn’t spare much thought on the matter, knowing that there were more important things at hand. It was only after the third time that they’d nearly fallen asleep on each other that the two men finally accepted that it was time to rest. They needed their entire focus on getting Reid home and they wouldn’t be able to do that if they were incapable of thinking. With heavy hearts and much hesitation, they left the room.

Neither of them had wanted to sleep in the house, the knowledge that they were currently residing in the home of the man that had their friend was hanging over their heads, making it almost impossible to even stand in. Instead, they chose the comfort (or lack thereof) of the FBI SUVs. Hotch climbed into one as Morgan climbed into the other, both immediately sitting in the driver’s seat and laying it back as far as they could go.

Being mid January, there was a strong chill in the air despite the persistent shining of the sun above them. Hotch wrapped his suit jacket tighter around himself, trying to maintain any sense of warmth that the thin clothing gave him. His eyes fell shut and he attempted to fight back every thought that was swarming around in his mind, loud and obnoxious and refusing to leave. It felt like hours of trying to quieten his mind, though in reality it mustn’t have been more than thirty minutes, when the passenger side door opened. His head instantly turned, eyes flying open as the lack of sleep made him more paranoid but less alert.

“I’m guessing I’m not the only one who can’t sleep,” Morgan said as he dropped into the seat next to him, door slamming shut behind him.

Hotch grunted, eyes closing again. “I knew I should’ve just stayed there and continued working.”

“No, you still did the right thing coming out here. I want to be in there just as much as you do but we’re no help if we can’t even stand upright.”

He hummed non-committedly. “Maybe so. Doesn’t make me okay with being out here while my team is in there working.” Typically, Hotch would never speak to a subordinate in such a way. The lack of sleep, however, was really beginning to affect him, taking away his filter.

It was silent for a few beats, no sound to be heard in or out of the car, until Morgan finally spoke again.

“You know Reid doesn’t actually think you’re a narcissist, right?”

“I hardly think it matters. I’m his boss, he’s allowed to view me in whatever way he does and I have no say in that.”

“But you’re not just his boss, you’re his friend. He had to name someone so that Hankel would stop the roulette. He did it as a means of survival and that’s it. There’s nothing more to it.”

Hotch swallowed hard, still refusing to open his eyes. If he didn’t see Morgan there, he could almost pretend he was talking to himself.

“I just… he’s so young, Morgan, and he’s been through so much already.”

“I know,” Morgan replied quietly. “It’s awful just watching him go through it, I can’t imagine what it actually feels like to be trapped there.”

“We haven’t even seen a video of him in hours and I don’t- It’s not like I actually want to see him being hurt but I’m going out of my mind wondering why it’s been so long.”

Morgan sighed. “I wish I had an answer for you, man. I get it, though. Seeing him is awful but at least we know he’s alive. Right now we’re stuck in this weird limbo where Spencer Reid is both alive and not alive and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Schrödinger's Spencer.”

Morgan didn’t reply for a moment but when he did, it was with a snort. “That’s such a Reid joke to make.”

Hotch let out a light chuckle. “I suppose it is,” he said, his head gently falling back to rest against the seat behind him, “and I suppose that’s a sign for me to go to sleep.”

“Aaron Hotchner cracking jokes? Absolutely a sign to sleep. Good night.”

A small smile made its way to Hotch’s face for hardly a second but the weight that had been taken off his chest felt more permanent. “Good night, Morgan.”

It only took a few minutes after that for the two of them to drift off into a less than restful slumber, the anxiety still flowing through their veins making it difficult to stay asleep. It was enough, though, and by time they walked back into the house, they were ready to start the search again. “What have we got?” Hotch asked as they entered the room.

“Nothing new,” Prentiss informed them, a restrained disappointment seeping into her words. “We haven’t got any more videos, we’ve searched everywhere that’s connected to him, and there have been no new murders.”

“So another dead end." Morgan's fists clenched by his side but he managed to hold himself back from hitting anything.

“I know it’s difficult,” Gideon said, “but we just have to wait it out. I’m aware that the last thing any of us wants is to sit around doing nothing but until we have something to go off, there’s nothing we can do but be patient.”

“Patient,” Morgan murmured with a small scoff. “Right. I’ll just be patient while my best friend is off being tortured.” His eyes drifted around the room, lending on the stack of books sitting on the table. “I guess I’ll go through Hankel’s writing again, see if we missed anything.”

Hotch watched as he reached for one of the books. “I’ll help.”

---------

“We’ll have to watch the videos again.”

Every head turned to face Gideon. They’d spent the past few hours reading the books, over and over and over, looking for any little thing they could’ve missed. Garcia had conducted the most in-depth cyber search possible, trying to find anybody and anything that could be connected to either of the Hankel men. Everything had come up empty. The only thing they had yet to do was rewatch the tapes. They knew it was the next logical step but the thought of watching Reid go through that pain all over again made them feel sick to their stomachs.

“JJ, Garcia, neither of you need to stay for this. Go see if you can get some food together for us, it’s been a while since any of us have eaten a real meal. I know it’s already dark but take a car and see if you can find something. Prentiss, Morgan, you’re free to join them if you’d rather but your eyes would be of use here.”

Once Garcia had loaded the videos ready to be played, her and JJ followed Hotch’s orders, though not without some hesitation from the latter. Morgan and Prentiss immediately sat down without a word, prepared to watch them regardless of how much they wished it wasn’t necessary. It was an unspoken agreement to not acknowledge the way everybody froze momentarily as the first video started, an image of Reid coming onto the screen, clear signs of physical trauma evident.

“The other heathens are watching. Choose a sinner to die, and I’ll say the name and address of the person to be saved.”

“I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher.”

“Did you see that?” Morgan asked. “The way he looked into the camera before he spoke. What did he say - ‘leave their remains behind like a poacher’? I think that’s a clue.”

Gideon considered him for a moment. “I think you might be right. Here,” he handed him his notebook and pen, “write it down.” He played the next video.

“Tobias, help me.”

“He can’t help you, he’s weak!”

All four of the viewers flinched as skin hit against skin; as whimpers and cries fell from Reid’s lips. Morgan’s fist hitting the table was ignored as the agent on screen fell back in his chair, head hitting the floor with great force.

“You came back to life.”

“Raphael.”

Their focus didn’t leave the screen, watching intently as Reid stared God’s Will directly in the eye and didn’t flinch, God’s angel holding the trigger.

“Choose.”

“I choose Aaron Hotchner. He’s a classic narcissist.”

Hotch exhaled deeply but didn’t stop watching, listening to the words that had been playing on repeat in his mind since he’d first heard them. Morgan’s mouth opened as if to speak when Prentiss suddenly raised a hand in front of her, stopping whatever he was going to say. The men looked up at her and she put a finger to her lips, her other hand pointing in the direction of the room next door. They remained silent, ears straining to hear what Prentiss was referring to. It was a few moments later that they realised what it was - a small thump.

Immediately alert, they all reached for their weapons, drawing them up and preparing to defend each other. Hotch crept forward, signaling for the others to get behind him. He moved soundlessly, slowly approaching the door frame that led to the front room. Once at the edge, he glanced into the room, immediately spotting the man standing on the other side.

Morgan moved to stand next to his boss. Gideon and Prentiss would’ve taken the only other door in the room, leaving him with no exit, but there was no path to get there without passing him. Instead, they pressed close, ready to charge in behind Hotch and Morgan. As they were about to move, the man turned around.

“Aaron Hotchner,” Hankel said, voice low but strong, back straight as he stared down his target. “You’re a sinner. Job 15:31. ‘Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.’ You must repent.”

His arm hadn’t raised more than a few inches before four different guns went off, bullets lodging into several different parts of his body. He dropped.

Gideon immediately pushed forward, crouching down to check the man’s pulse. “Dead,” he told them.

“Did you hear what he said?” Hotch’s voice was subdued, his gaze fixed on the body on the floor.

“What about it?” Prentiss asked.

“Job 15:31. He said it was Job 15:31. Reid said it was Genesis 23:4. Why would he get it wrong?”

“He’s under a lot of stress. It’s understandable if he misremembered something,” Morgan answered, though he sounded sceptical.

“But he didn’t misremember it. He misquoted it. So what does Genesis 23:4 actually say?” They all hurried to the bookcase that contained bibles, Hotch getting there first and instantly grabbing the closest copy to flick through the pages, sparing hardly a glance at each. “Here,” he said, passing his book to Morgan, “Genesis, chapter twenty-three, verse four. Read it.”

Morgan took the offered bible, finding where Hotch gestured before reading it out loud. “I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead out of my sight.”

“He wouldn’t get it wrong unless it was on purpose.” Shock and relief stretched his lips into a smile.

“He’s in a cemetery.” Prentiss realised.

At that moment, the door opened and in walked the two that had left earlier, each with a bag on their arm. “Oh my God,” Garcia gasped as she saw the man on the floor, bag falling next to her feet with a thud. “Who is that?!”

“Is that Hankel?” JJ placed her bag down next to Garcia’s but paid no more attention to the food it contained, her focus entirely on the face that was currently surrounded by a pool of its own blood.

“It is,” Hotch answered quickly. “Garcia, check to see if there have been any reports of poaching in the last couple of days.”

“Okay, okay, uh…” She trailed off as she rushed to the computer with the others following, taking care to not step in the blood. It took less than a minute for her to set up the system and conduct her search. “A farmer reported two sheep being slaughtered on his property.”

“Where are we talking?”

Garcia zoomed in on the map in response to Morgan’s question.

“What’s that patch of green there?”

“Marshall Parish,” Hotch replied to JJ. “I think it’s an old plantation.”

Emily leaned forward, catching everyone’s attention. “Wait. Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from Marshall.”

“Does that say that there’s a cemetery on the ground?” Gideon pointed at the screen.

“We’ve found him,” Hotch breathed. “We’re going to save him.”

-------

“FBI!”

As soon as Hotch’s foot hit the floor after kicking the door open, he was moving. Along with some of the local police, the team entered the cabin, guns drawn and eyes on alert as they searched for any sign of their missing agent.

“Clear!”

“Clear!”

“Oh! What’s that smell?” Prentiss scrunched her face up against the overwhelming scent in the air, casting her glance around the room to find the source. She spotted it on the floor: a pile of burnt fish. The smell threatened to take over their senses as they coughed against it, fighting the urge to leave immediately.

“Let’s spread out. He has to be here somewhere. Let’s go!” Hotch stormed ahead, looking as though the stench hadn’t had the slightest effect on him.

Gideon watched as everybody fanned out to search the grounds as his eyes took one last look over the room, being drawn to the pair of handcuffs laying haphazardly on a chair that he clearly recognised from the videos. Spencer had been sitting in that chair. He’d had those handcuffs on him. He’d been surrounded by that smell. So where was he now? He couldn’t have let himself out of those cuffs, but Hankel wouldn’t have just let him roam free.

With that thought in mind, he left into the darkness of the winter night, the chill immediately seeping into his bones despite the thick clothing he had on to protect himself. An image of Spencer, as frozen as the real Charles Hankel, pushed its way to the front of his mind completely unbidden. He did his best to shove it back, knowing it wouldn’t help. It didn’t leave.

They scoured the cemetery, searching over every inch looking for anything that might tell them where Spencer was before it was too late. Hankel must’ve left him hours ago without a fire or any other means of warmth, it was no wonder that he’d finally become desperate enough to leave the cabin on his own accord despite the great risks it presented him, Hotch thought.

He was aware that Spencer could’ve made it to a road by now but judging by the presumed lack of shoes and warmth, as well as his recently sustained injuries, he felt that it was reasonable to assume that he hadn’t gotten far. Just to cover all bases, he sent some local officers further up, closer to where they’d arrived from.

They’d been searching for over twenty minutes when they finally found something. A patch of soil, packed more freshly than that around it. It had been recently planted within the last few days.

“Morgan!” Hotch yelled at the top of his lungs, above the noise of everybody else calling out a different name. He instantly dropped to his knees and began clawing at the dirt, scraping it out and throwing it in random directions, not paying any mind to anybody around him. A body dropped down next to him and hands joined his own but neither looked at the other, concentrating only on the cold ground below them.

They dug and they dug until they hit something - something colder than the dirt it was surrounded with, something much paler. They continued tearing at the floor even more savagely than before, desperation leaking through at the sight of the foreign object. Fear gripped them tighter than the cold did, making them work harder and faster until suddenly a white cloth was visible, soon followed by a familiar dark red.

“No, no, no, no,” Morgan muttered, each word faster and louder than the last. “Come on, man!”

Hotch pulled away dirt from higher up, more gently this time, though he refused to acknowledge what could be under it until he finally saw it. A face, skin soft and almost glistening in the moonlight, marred by dirt and blood. Spencer.

He wedged an arm underneath his back as soon as the opportunity presented itself, Morgan having pulled enough of the ground off of his arms for it to not cause any harm, and he pulled. Once the top half of his body was fully out of the dirt, his hand raised on its own accord in search of a pulse as Morgan set to work on the CPR.

No pulse.

His breath caught in his throat but his fingers didn’t move. He was vaguely aware of the ringing in his ears but he ignored it.

“Please, Spencer. Please,” he forced out through gritted teeth. “Wake up. Come on. Wake up!”

“Not like this, pretty boy. Not like this.”

Morgan hadn’t stopped the CPR, going harder than what was necessary. It didn’t escape Hotch’s notice that any CPR at all may be unnecessary as he took a closer look at the boy in front of him. His eyes were closed and his skin was freezing to the touch. At first Hotch assumed that he must have been buried only hours before, likely just before Hankel left on his final self-righteous mission. Now, though, as he stared at the blue-tinted pallor of the agent in front of him, he doubted it.

Spencer Reid had been dead for at least a day now.

“Morgan, stop,” he muttered half-heartedly, his line of sight not moving from eyes that wouldn’t open. He’d never forced Spencer to make eye contact with him before but he was wishing with everything he had that just this once, he would; that just this once, Spencer would open his eyes and stare right back at him.

The aggressive panting by his ear hadn’t stopped, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. What if Spencer opened his eyes for only a second as he looked away? What if he missed Spencer’s final breath? What if-

“Morgan. You have to stop.” His voice was weak but it was all he could muster, still not looking away but being able to see the hands still pumping down on Reid’s chest as he periodically reached up to perform mouth-to-mouth. “Morgan.” He didn’t stop. “Morgan!”

He finally snatched his eyes away from those in front of him, becoming frozen in place as he watched Morgan lose control of the tears rolling down his face. Small sobs fell from his lips but he was clearly holding them back, trying so hard to save a dead man. It didn’t look as though he’d even heard Hotch’s words.

With a shaking breath, Hotch put his hand on Morgan’s arm, not surprised when it was instantly thrown off in a rather violent manner. He put his hand back, holding tighter but still getting thrown off. He forced himself to sit back, body threatening to collapse under the stress of it. Harsher than before, he gripped Morgan’s arm and pulled. Nothing. He pulled again. Nothing.

“Morgan, he's dead. You have to stop.”

Morgan furiously shook his head but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him, leaving Hotch with only one other option. He wrapped both of his arms around the man’s torso and pulled as hard as he could, refusing to let go no matter how much the struggling man tried to get away. Morgan’s arms flailed wildly but Hotch didn’t budge.

“You did all you could, Morgan. You did all you could. There’s nothing more to do. I’m sorry,” he murmured into his ear, the low volume not entirely on purpose.

“No!” Morgan shouted, fighting harder against the restraints of Hotch’s arms. “We can’t just give up on him!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated, finding himself unable to stop apologising despite the fact that the words were unable to reach the ears of the person they were meant for.

“Hotch, we can’t- we can’t just give up. We can’t just give up.” At this point Morgan had stopped struggling, both against Hotch and the sobs that were now ripping their way out of his throat. His head buried itself into Hotch’s shoulder as his hands came up to grip onto the arms around him, his legs slightly curling up as wails of agony tore through him.

Around them stood the rest of the team, watching the scene in front of them unfold whilst knowing that there was nothing they could do to help. JJ and Penelope were wrapped around each other, tears falling freely from their eyes as they listened to the slowly quieting cries of the usually hard-to-break agent. Emily was completely frozen, her breath slowing to almost a complete stop. Gideon’s face remained unchanged, though the tears blurring his vision were hard to miss. He took one more look at the man he considered his son, and he turned around, walking away back into the darkness.

Hotch’s arms loosened but didn’t let go of the man inside of them. His apologies hadn’t stopped even as his eyes became less focused, his mind trying to take him somewhere far away but failing to take him further than that cabin. It was ironic, he thought, that a house belonging to someone so dedicated to his worship could be so void of God. No, there was no God here, but there had been an angel, and he’d taken Spencer Reid away from them.

“I’m sorry,” Hotch whispered. “I should’ve understood.”