#highest number of cases

[seveneyesoup]

can i just say. i’m sick of showrunner discourse. like every few months it seems like people draw their lines and dig their trenches and every time it’s the same handful of points and episodes brought up to prove that their favorite showrunner is Good And Progressive and that their least favorite is Wrong And Bigoted and like. all of those episodes exist. they’re all real episodes of doctor who, and the sooner we can look at the good and the bad in doctor who, the sooner we can get somewhere actually worth being regarding discussion of politics on the show

[theflyingfeeling]

I would like to thank that one band and that one hockey player for single-handedly giving me reasons to keep going when I had 'cry + feel pathetic + hate yourself' scheduled on my calendar from this day forward until the end of everything

[thepringlesofblood]

clarifications:

d20 = 20-sided die, d6 = 6-sided die, and so on.

I'm talking about when the highest number on any given dice (e.g. the 20 on a d20) is replaced with an image - whether a logo, a little star, a dragon, anything - and does not say the number on it.

this does not include if the highest number looks different somehow but still says the number. if it's in a different font, that doesn't count, because you can still read the number.

if you're a one-dice-set kind of person who's never looked to buy new dice, answer based on your feelings about your one dice set - would it be better, worse, or neutral if the highest number was a a symbol/image or an actual number?

the 'some' in 'some but not others' here can be any number, including one (e.g. if you like it on d20s but not on any other dice, or on all dice except d20s, this option is for you.)

here's an example image where the highest number on multiple dice is a symbol (and a link to an explanation of dice that includes more images of dice w symbols instead of their highest number)

originally, I was going to make this specifically d20s vs other dice, but I wanted to include RPG systems that primarily use other dice (e.g. the 'Powered by the Apocalypse' system uses 2 d6 for everything), instead of just DND and others that use d20s as their main dice.

[peipakao]

petrichorchestra [100 word flasoni drabble]

Flash walks alone in the blue-white predawn. A curtain of rain falls over the world, the patter of drops ringing out like bells. From within this orchestra, comes the sound of children laughing.

He stops. Listens. 

He remembers bright grey eyes like crescent moons, a wide open grin. Laughing so hard their cheeks would hurt. 

Miles away, the same sound reaches the ears of another. Sonic raises his head. He traces the sound and sees, in the light filtering through the rippling rain, two small bright shapes running, hands linked.

They stand watching, listening together, until the curtain finally rises.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

https://www.tumblr.com/xxplastic-cubexx/768039269205934080/god-your-sleepy-cherik-comic-in-dying-ive-been?source=share

YESSS IT WAS THE ONE ABOUT BIG/LITTLE SPOON AWWWW IM SO GLAD TIUMBLER HAVEN'T EATEN IT I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!

OK GOOD IT IS THAT ONE i DID like it thats why ive been holding onto it cause i wanna ansewr it properly 😭😭

[puppysdog]

work really sucked and i’m in a lot of pain and so so sick

[medicinemane]

Make Puerto Rico a state already, don't like having second class Americans, and that's how I'd describe it when they're out there paying taxes, contributing to the good of the country, but they don't even get representation via things like a senator

Like I'm sat here thinking about it and... do Puerto Ricans living in Puerto Rico even get to vote for president? Cause... that's never listed in the electoral college vote count, so I'm gonna guess no

Seem to remember hearing somewhere something about "no taxation without representation", sounded pretty good I thought

Make Puerto Rico a state, make them a state. Every year I get more and more pissed off as I think about how fellow Americans are treated like this. I'm extremely pro Puerto Rico, they're clearly a part of the union... you either make them a state or make them their own country, you don't keep people trapped in this limbo state where they've got less rights than I do

[bagginsluck]

Rabies phobia to Rabies hyperfixation pipeline

[sayruq]

An unprecedented number of countries and international organizations are expected to participate in the International Court of Justice’s (ICJ) oral hearings on Israel’s occupation beginning February 19, 2024, Human Rights Watch said today. Fifty-two countries and three international organizations will participate in the oral proceedings, more than in any other case since the world’s highest court began functioning in 1946. The broad participation in the hearings and the many written submissions reflect growing global momentum to address the decades-long failure to ensure respect for international law in the Occupied Palestinian Territory. “The International Court of Justice is set for the first time to broadly consider the legal consequences of Israel’s nearly six-decades-long occupation and mistreatment of the Palestinian people,” said Clive Baldwin, senior legal adviser at Human Rights Watch. “Governments that are presenting their arguments to the court should seize these landmark hearings to highlight the grave abuses Israeli authorities are committing against Palestinians, including the crimes against humanity of apartheid and persecution.”

[theculturedmarxist]

In 2020, Robert Kuciemba, a woodworker in San Francisco was infected with covid by a co-worker after his Nevada-based Victory Woodworks transferred a number of sick workers to the San Francisco site for a few months. 

Through the proceedings of the case it turns out that the employer knew some employees might be sick but they transferred them anyway and ignored a San Francisco ordinance in place at the time to quarantine suspected covid cases.

Kuciemba was subsequently infected and he then infected his wife, who ended up in ICU on a ventilator.

The California Supreme Court just ruled against Kuciemba on the basis that a victory, while, in the court's words, "morally" the right thing to do, would create "dire financial consequences for employers" and cause a "dramatic expansion of liability" to stop the spread of covid.

There’s a few stunning details to note in this case. First, the court agreed that there is no doubt the company had ignored the San Francisco health ordinance. In other words, they accepted the company had broken the law. And then concluded “yeah, but, capitalism.”

Secondly, the case was so obviously important to the struggle between capitalism and mass infection that the US Chamber of Commerce, the largest business lobbying organisation got involved and helped the company with its defence. Remember, this is a tiny company in a niche industry. The involvement of the biggest business lobbyists in the country tells us a lot about the importance of the principle they knew was at stake.

Thirdly, the defence of the company is very telling. They said “There is simply no limit to how wide the net will be cast: the wife who claims her husband caught COVID-19 from the supermarket checker, the husband who claims his wife caught it while visiting an elder care home." 

Well, exactly. Capitalism couldn’t survive if employers were liable for covid infections contracted in the workplace, and the ripple effect of those infections. And they know it. 

This case is something of a covid smoking gun, revealing what we always suspected but had never seen confirmed in so many words:��the public health imperative of controlling a pandemic virus by making employers liable for some of that control is, and always must be, secondary to capitalist profit. 

This ruling is also saying out loud what has been obvious to anyone paying attention for the last two years: employers don’t have a responsibility to keep your family safe from covid. You have that responsibility. And if you give a family member covid that you caught at work and they get sick or die – even if it was a result of law-breaking by your employer – that’s on you buddy.

It is the same old capitalist story: the shunting of responsibility for ills that should be shared across society, including employers in that society, onto individuals.

This ruling essentially helps codify workplace mass infection and justifies it as necessary for the smooth functioning of capitalism.

This is not new. This is where the ‘just a cold’ and the ‘mild' narrative came from. It came from doctors and healthcare experts whose first loyalty was to capitalism. Not to public health. To money, not to lives. Abetted by media who uncritically platformed them.

While this ruling tells us little that we couldn’t already see from the public policy approach of the last two years, it is revealing (and to some extent validating) to see it confirmed by the highest law of the land in the United States. 

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

Half of Americans (49%) believe they'll never get COVID again, according to new polling from the Ipsos Consumer Tracker

Why we asked about COVID expectations: COVID cases are continuing a summer surge as “back-to-school” also becomes “back-to-COVID” season. New vaccines are starting to roll out.

What we found: This question is one we’ve asked for years now about how people think about their risk of getting COVID. And even as it surges around us those who think they will never again get COVID is now at the highest levels we’ve seen: about half (49%) of Americans. That leaves the other half shifting between those who say they expect to get it “despite trying to stay as safe as possible” and with the more fatalistic “I have gone about my life as normally as I could.” Many fewer (20% now compared to 31% at this time in 2023) say they are trying to stay as safe as possible as safety measures have mostly disappeared in all spheres. And yes, politics come into play here. Equal numbers of Republicans and Democrats don’t expect to get COVID again, but Democrats were twice as likely to say they are trying to stay safe. For the record, between 600 and 900 deaths per week recently are due to COVID, which currently accounts for about 2.5% of all deaths, according to the CDC. Car crashes, for reference, kill about 850 per week. (Nadi's NOTE: This is an incorrect statistic, as the 33% of hospitals reporting [making any current count a severe undercount] lists over 1,200 people dying last week from covid, up from over 1,100 the week before and over 1,000 the week before that. It has not been below four hundred deaths per week since March 2020.)

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Gnarls Barkley - Crazy 2006

"Crazy" is the debut single of American soul duo Gnarls Barkley, taken from their 2006 debut album, St. Elsewhere. It became the first single to top the UK Singles Chart on download sales alone. The song remained at the top of the British charts for nine weeks, the longest number-one spell for more than ten years. The band and their record company then decided to remove the single from music stores in the country (while keeping the download available) so people would "remember the song fondly and not get sick of it". "Crazy" dropped to number five, before disappearing completely from the chart, as under chart rules a physically deleted single could not remain on the chart longer than two weeks after deletion date. Thus, "Crazy" made history at both ends of its chart run. It marked the most rapid exit from the British chart ever for a former number one, and number five was the highest position at which a single has ever spent its final week on the chart at that point.

In spite of this deletion, the song was the best-selling single of 2006 in the UK. In December 2006, it was nominated for the United Kingdom's Record of the Year but lost to "Patience" by Take That. "Crazy" won a Grammy Award for Best Urban/Alternative Performance in 2007 and was also nominated for Record of the Year, and it won a 2006 MTV Europe Music Award for Best Song. The music video was nominated for three 2006 MTV Video Music Awards: Best Group Video, Best Direction, and Best Editing, and won the latter two. It was also nominated for a 2006 MTV Europe Music Award for Best Video. "Crazy" was named the best song of 2006 by Rolling Stone and by The Village Voice's annual Pazz & Jop critics poll. "Crazy" was performed at the 2006 MTV Movie Awards, with Danger Mouse and Green dressed as various Star Wars characters.

The single entered multiple other single charts throughout Europe, including the German, the Swedish, the Austrian and the Irish Singles Charts, and the Dutch Top 40, resulting in a number one position on the European Hot 100 Singles. "Crazy" also performed strongly outside Europe, with top-five positions on the New Zealand and Australian Single Charts, and was also certified gold in both countries. In the US, the song "Crazy" spent seven consecutive weeks in the number-two spot on the Billboard Hot 100.

Musically, "Crazy" was inspired by film scores of Spaghetti Westerns, in particular by the works of Ennio Morricone, and the song "Last Men Standing" by Gian Piero Reverberi and Gian Franco Reverberi from the 1968 Spaghetti Western Django, Prepare a Coffin, an unofficial prequel to Django. "Crazy" samples the song, and also utilizes parts of the main melody and chord structure. Because of this, the Reverberis are credited as songwriters along with CeeLo Green and Danger Mouse. "Crazy" was used in several films and TV shows including Kick-Ass, I Think I Love My Wife, Religulous, The Big Short, Cold Case, How to Rock, Grey's Anatomy, Medium, Boyhood, and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

"Crazy" received a total of 86,8% yes votes!

[mrs-kmikaelson]

icarus

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x sunshine!reader Summary: Aaron thinks you're just about the most radiant person he's ever met. But then you fly too close to the sun, and all your light disappears. Warnings: grumpy x sunshine turned not sunshine, some references to the greek myth of icarus, religious imagery, graphic descriptions of violence, murder, brief allusion to suicide, heartbreak, complicated relationship, unhealthy coping mechanisms, cm timeline not canon, takes place in s6ish, extreme angst and no happy ending (yet) Words: 4.1K

Masterlist | helios (part 2)

a/n: part 2?

You'd been in Hotch's office too many times to count, typically sitting on his couch. Oftentimes, you'd come in after hours, waiting for him to finish his work before you walked to the parking lot together. He'd scribble away at his desk while you rested your eyes, and then he'd walk over to you when he was done.

Now, you sat on the couch, the same as before. But this time, Hotch sat in front of you. You weren't resting your eyes and he wasn't working on any case. A file laid on his lap, nonetheless.

Your file.

You wanted to question that. Was it performative? What would he find in that file that he didn't already know about you? Did he want to make you sweat, make you tense up?

He didn't need a file for that.

Your eyes zeroed in on the tan folder, labelled with the FBI seal, and they stayed there until he spoke your name. "Y/N."

You looked up. Aaron's face betrayed no emotion. His expression wasn't warm, nor was it cold. It was just blank.

But, see, you could read Aaron Hotchner better than any file. And in his eyes, you saw traces of concern, hope, frustration, desperation, and all those other things he was hiding behind his unit chief persona. You wondered if he could see anything in your eyes right now.

You weren't really there. Not in that moment.

Your mind went back to your first time in that office.

"SSA Aaron Hotchner, it's a pleasure to meet you."

You gave him a remarkable smile. "Please, the pleasure's all mine. Agent Y/N Y/L/N."  You had a firm handshake, he'd give you that. "It's— it's an honour to be here, sir."

David Rossi was your connection. He served with your father during the Vietnam War. Hotch thought that made him biased, but Rossi told him otherwise. She's the sun, he'd said. I guarantee, you'll never meet anyone as radiant as her.

Upon meeting you, Hotch could see that. He could see the beam in your smile and the light in your eyes. Maybe that should've deterred him from letting you on his team, but you were convincing.

Sitting opposite to you at his desk, he read from your file. "It says here you come from Crimes Against Children?"

"Yes, sir."

"You've held the highest number of cases solved within the unit for the past 2 years." He finally looked up at you, his lips twitching ever so slightly. "That's quite the accomplishment, agent."

He didn't seem like a man who gave out compliments very often, and so you had to fight the urge to smile like a lunatic. "Thank you, sir."

He didn't seem like a man who smiled much, either. And so, before he even said another word, you knew that you made it.

When the interview ended, you shook hands a second time, and he told you to pack a go-bag and be ready to come in for Monday. This time, you couldn't hide the smile.

"Welcome to the BAU."

Aaron's voice broke you from your reverie. "Please state your name and rank for the record."

Your eyes darted to the voice recorder on the coffee table before looking back up at him. You cleared your throat. "Supervisory Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N."

Aaron didn't waste any time. "Agent Y/L/N, in your time with CAC, you had the most cases solved within the unit," he stated. That was once a compliment to you.

It didn't feel that way anymore.

"Yes," you affirmed.

"You were there for 2 years."

"Yes."

Hotch paused. His next words weren't a statement. "How did that affect your mental wellbeing?"

Low blow. Very low blow. But you kept your composure, answering, "I was evaluated frequently as a member of the CAC. I was deemed fit to be in the field on each occasion." You bit your tongue to keep you from saying anything else. This is being recorded, you reminded yourself.

Hotch narrowed his eyes, almost imperceptibly.

Almost. 

"And once you got to the BAU, there was no residual guilt?" He made eye contact with you, and perhaps now your eyes were communicating something.

That was lower.

But you supposed that Aaron knew exactly where to hit.

"It's okay if you have to take a break, you know."

You jumped at the sudden voice, putting a hand on your heart. You didn't hear anyone enter the stairwell.

An apologetic look crossed his face, but you were the one with an apology on your lips. "Sorry, I— I'll get back right now."

You attemped to walk past him, but his hand caught your shoulder. Your breath hitched. You didn't know why.

His eyes softened. They were normally hard, inpenetrable, but you were starting to realize that he looked at you differently. The team teased you for favouritism, and you denied it every time, but you could only lie to yourself so much.

"Y/N," he started, "if you think you have something to prove, you don't. You've already proven yourself." His voice was tender, not as though he was treating you like you were delicate, but like he wanted to be gentle. "You're allowed to take a minute."

You sighed. "But I shouldn't have to, Hotch." You looked away from him, trying to find the words to verbalize your thoughts. "I— I dealt with tougher cases than this in CAC. I should be able to handle it. It's not fair for me to break down when that boy is out there, all on his own."

A lump grew in the back of your throat. It wasn't fair. Nothing about this job was fair.

You weren't normally so quick to cry, but you'd been holding this in. Aaron could tell. 

After cases, you were everyone's shoulder to cry on. Even he had confided in you multiple times when he probably shouldn't have. You were always there.

He wondered who was there for you.

"What you feel is valid. This is a hard case; it's normal to be a bit overwhelmed. You don't have to carry guilt over that."

A little laugh left you. "Hotch, how can you say that when everyone else is handling it just fine?"

His reply came quick. "They're not." You wanted to interject, but he continued, "Prentiss may seem fine, but beneath the surface, she's disgusted. Morgan is no different; he's angry, and that's manifesting into aggression. Reid is quieter today. Rossi is going to get a drink later. JJ has called Will 3 times since we got here, checking on Henry. And every time I see that boy's picture, I think of Jack, and I'm barely holding it together."

You swallowed at the admission, realizing his hand was still on your shoulder when he took it away. You missed the warmth.

"You're not alone, Y/N."

You believed him.

Your jaw tensed. "Guilt is inevitable. But I didn't have any more of it than the average agent."

Aaron didn't believe you. He wouldn't. He knew better.

But he was Hotch right now, and technically, Hotch wasn't meant to know anything about you. Hotch was conducting this interview, and his subordinate, Agent Y/L/N, sat across from him. Not his teammate or friend.

Certainly not the girl who fell in love with him.

You and Emily stood in the break room. She poured you a coffee as you talked about your weekends. She was just in the middle of telling you about her weekend to Atlantic City. Your laugh echoed throughout the room.

"Prentiss, next time you go gambling, take me with you! I promise I'm good."

"Somehow, I don't doubt that."

Your head turned to the new voice, seeing Hotch standing at the doorway. His lips quirked upward slightly, almost a smile. It was the most you'd get from him—you knew that.

A part of you was grateful for anything he was willing to give you.

You matched his smile with much more vigour. "You should try me sometime. I'd give you a run for your money, Hotchner," you teased. 

If you didn't know any better, you might've thought his eyes softened right then and there. "Somehow, I don't doubt that, either," he said.

You nearly forgot Emily was even in the room, missing the look she sent you. You wouldn't have known how to respond to it, anyway. Sometimes, you almost thought Hotch was flirting with you—and maybe he was. But that was the furthest it'd ever go, the most he'd ever give you.

That part of you, the biggest part, was grateful for it.

And another part of you didn't see the problem with that.

As if he was coming to his senses, he cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest and informing you, "Round table in 5." Then he was walking away like nothing ever happened. 

Maybe it didn't. Maybe you imagined it. Sometimes, you felt like pinching yourself.

But then from behind you, Emily chirped, "You know... he could've sent JJ to come tell us that."

You hummed, refusing to look at her.

Amusement flooded her voice. "It's... it's almost like... something just pulled him here."

"Okay, Emily."

You ignored her cackling, making an early trip to the round table as heat licked the tips of your ears.

Hotch's gaze didn't let up. You felt your face burn.

You knew he had a Rolodex of thoeries in his mind, a mental profile of who he thought you were. He once told you that he was a collector in his youth, and so you knew he had a collection of questions in his head.

He was striking out with this one. He moved on to the next.

"Would you say you've built close relationships with the members of this team?"

Your eyes travelled to the photo behind his desk, barely making out the image of you at a bar with the rest of the team, Aaron included. He stood next to you in that one. You were all smiling, even him.

You re-directed your attention back to him. "Yes, I have."

"You should smile more."

Aaron looked down at you, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. "What?"

Blinking, you repeated, "I said, you should smile more." A dopey grin arose on your face. "It suits you."

Aaron resisted the urge to laugh at your drunken antics. He was perfectly sober, having already anticipated that he'd have to someone's ride. "Okay, I think it's time we get you home." You didn't protest, nor did the smile on your face move. Sometimes, Hotch thought it was there permanently, like it was a fixed part of your character.

He grew to really like that smile.

Maybe more than like.

He said his goodbyes for the both of you, receiving teasing glances from the rest of the team and wiggly eyebrows from Morgan. You barely took notice of any of it, now enthralled by the laces on your shoes.

When he guided you up and you realized you were leaving, you waved haphazardly. "Bye guys!"

A chorus of goodbyes and laughter followed you out the door of the bar. Before you could even shiver, a coat was being draped over your shoulders. It took you a few seconds to figure out it was Aaron's.

Butterflies swarmed through your stomach.

Hotch was silent for a few seconds. It was like he was hesitating. But not for long.

"And would you say that those relationships are still the same now?"

You swallowed. Butterflies were in your stomach—and not the good kind. These butterflies ate away at your insides, making you want to vomit what little breakfast you'd eaten that morning. You felt sick.

Moths, you realized. Not butterflies at all.

You were a moth, too. Drawn to the flames of something bigger than you. Was that what Hotch was getting at? Was that why he was asking you all these pointless questions? 

He knew the answers already. Why was he asking you?

You responded, anyway. "No." Even if he wasn't a profiler, it would've been impossible not to notice the way your voice tightened up.

He was getting somewhere now. He dug deeper. "Is that because of what happened in Glendale?"

No. No. No. No.

Yes.

He knew that. God, he knew that better than anyone. But still, you could question him and his credibility. That was an awful question, not because he already knew the answer but because it was so unspecified.

"A lot happened in Glendale," you said. A lot.

Everything.

"You look tired."

You rolled your eyes. "Thanks, Hotchner. That's just what a girl wants to hear." You flashed him a smile, anyway, like you were showing him that your annoyance was nothing more than playful.

You were still smiling, even in the midst of all this. Sometimes, Hotch thought you could smile enough for the two of you.

His hotel room was right beside yours. You were still getting your key out. Truthfully, he didn't know why he was just standing there, watching you.

In a way, it was like you were waiting for him, too. Despite having fished your room key out of your purse, you turned your body to fully face him. Something soft twinkled in your irises.

He wanted to say he saw stars in your eyes, but it was really just you. 

You were the star.

If he took another step closer, you'd be able to feel his breath against your skin. But you knew he wouldn't. You wanted him to, but he wouldn't, not even if you asked him to. And you wouldn't ask him.

He was the unit chief; he valued that. He valued rules, and order, and protocol. You couldn't ask him to turn on that. 

But you could do it yourself.

You took one step forward. He didn't step back.

"Y/N," he pleaded. It was meant to be a warning, but his voice was as light as a feather. 

You didn't know what you were doing. Ever since you joined the BAU, you were sure of yourself, absolute. Hotch made you rethink things. He made you feel like you were a champion, on top of the world and so close to the sun.

Aaron was warm. That's all you ever wanted.

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand on your face. "Please," you whispered. "Please."

You weren't asking—you were begging. Begging him to see you. God, Hotch had been engulfed in darkness for so long. You were begging him to bask in the sunlight with you.

But he wouldn't.

Within seconds, the warmth was gone. "Goodnight, Y/N."

When you opened your eyes, he was already walking away, leaving you standing there with a key in your hand and your heart on your sleeve.

Hotch sighed, his forefinger going to his thumb. Tired. "I'm talking about that night, Y/N."

Your heart dropped.

You remembered that night. You remembered it well. But he wasn't talking about the part where he left you standing in an empty hallway.

He was talking about what came after.

Knocking sounded at your door, incessant and loud. You suppressed a groan, getting up and throwing the door open without checking the peep hole. Maybe that was stupid, considering you were working a serial killer case and all the victims looked like you, but you honestly would've preferred anything other than seeing Hotch standing on the other side of the threshold.

When you opened the door, his hand fell. Soon after, so did his face. You'd been crying. You suddenly wished you'd gotten the chance to splash water on your face before carelessly opening your door.

But Hotch collected himself in an instant, returning the stony exterior you were used to. "There's been an update in the case. We have the unsub's location," he told you.

Just like that, you stood straighter, composing yourself in record speed that could put your boss to shame. "Just let me put on my shoes." You hadn't even changed.

You put on your shoes, and then you and Hotch left without another word to each other.

In the elevator, you wiped away the last of your tears as he stared straight ahead.

You were glad he didn't mention it.

Tears built in your eyes, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. Still, you held your resolve. "I don't want to talk about that night."

For the first time since this conversation started, Hotch's voice softened. "You have to, Y/N." He sounded like he pitied you.

You didn't want his pity. You didn't want his or anyone's anything. You just didn't want to talk about it.

"Alright, JJ, Prentiss, you take the side. Rossi and I will take the front. Morgan and Y/L/N take the back."

You saw a few confused eyes dart your way at his assignment, but you brushed them off. It wasn't the time to question why Hotch didn't pair you together, even though he always did, or why he'd address you with your last name when that name was practically foreign to his tongue.

Now wasn't the time.

Instead, you nodded, following his orders. That much hadn't changed.

At the back entrance, Morgan kicked down the door and then you made your way in, holding your flashlight above your gun.

Beyond the back lounging area, there were two hallways extending on both sides. Derek nodded to the right direction, and you nodded back at him, taking the left.

The rickety floorboards creaked under your weight. You shined your light on the walls. There was framed artwork, but no family pictures, just as you profiled. Everything was as you profiled. This was clean cut.

It was supposed to be simple.

But it wasn't.

Right as you turned the corner, you were slammed into the wall. Both your gun and your flashlight fell out of your hands, dropping to the floor. 

You didn't get the chance to retaliate. The unsub grabbed you by your vest, throwing you against the other wall. Your back hit glass, shattering everywhere. You gasped, and then he was striking you to the ground.

Your arms flailed at the sides, trying to reach your gun, but it was no use. He climbed on top of you, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

It was so dark. But you could see his face so clearly. His teeth glinted in the light as he grinned at you. "You... are... beautiful."

You cried, mustering all your strength to get up. It wasn't enough. Not enough, not enough, not enough.

With a knife you hadn't seen before, he caressed your face. Cold, cold, cold. It was so cold. 

Then the blade was off your face, and relief flooded through your veins. Until it was replaced by something worse. So much worse.

You didn't feel it right away, but when you did, your head shot up like this was all a bad dream you could just wake up from. 

Except it wasn't. The feeling of his knife being plunged into your abdomen proved that. 

It was gone, and then it just came right back. Again. And again.

You tried to scream, but no sound would come out. Your mouth warped around nothing.

The pain took you whole, wrapping its arms around your body and enveloping you in ice. You had never felt so much pain. God, was this what Hotch felt when the Reaper attacked him? Did he feel so heavy and so light at the same time?

More tears raced down your cheeks at the thought. It hurt so bad. You knew it would hurt, but you never thought it'd hurt this bad.

The unsub pulled the knife out of you yet again, dripping your own blood onto your face. You could see his eyes. They were lifeless. He smiled maniacally, raising his arms above his head. This was it, you thought. His face would be the last thing you saw.

He was gonna end it. Finally.

You nearly prayed for it.

You screwed your eyes shut, awaiting the blade to meet your skin one last time.

It never did.

A gunshot rang through the hallway. A heavy mass fell on top of you before it was shoved off. Somebody was calling your name. You couldn't decipher who it was.

They were shaking your shoulders. Something wet hit your face. Your eyes didn't open.

The pain was so strong. You were so tired. So, so tired.

You let yourself fall asleep.

"Y/N!"

"Y/N."

Hotch's concerned eyes were too much for you. You couldn't do this. You couldn't pretend to be here when you were still there. 

You shot out of your chair, fervently shaking your head. "Turn the recorder off."

Hotch matched your stance, knitting his brows together. "Y/N—"

"Damnit, Hotch, turn it off!"

At your outburst, he narrowed his eyes, but he ultimately did as you said, pressing pause.

You ran your a hand through your hair. The room was spinning. Your head was spinning. Your vision got blurry.

He tried to reason, "We have to talk about this—"

"No!" you cut him off, pointing your finger at him. It wouldn't stop shaking. "No, we don't. We could leave it alone like I am asking you to— like I am begging you to."

His face softened, looking less like Hotch and more like Aaron. But you didn't want to see Aaron. Not now. "No, we can't—"

"Yes, we can!" you shouted. You were lucky the office was empty at this hour. You were lucky Hotch gave you the couresy of emptiness. Your eyes were wild as you stepped closer to him. "When Elle spiralled, nobody talked about it. When everyone found out about what happened to Derek, nobody talked about it. When Spencer was kidnapped and got hooked on drugs, nobody fucking talked about it. And you!" You pointed your finger back at him, now in his face. "When you were stabbed and Foyet murdered Haley in��cold. blood. you came back here and you never talked about it!" Tears ran down your face in a waterfall, your lips quivering. "Why can't I do the same?"

Hurt was all over Aaron's face, but he didn't step back like you were expecting him to. Instead, he stepped forward. If this were before, he would've grasped onto your shoulders. His fingers could only flex at his sides.

"You're not the same, Y/N." Just like that night in the hallway, he was pleading with you. He was pleading to just let him help you.

A humourless laugh left you. "Of course, I'm not the same, Aaron. No one is."

How could he expect you to be the same? How could he expect you to come back and be the same person you were when that person was still lying in a house in Glendale? How could he expect you to be the same person when you could still feel that man's body on top of you? When you could still feel his knife cutting into your flesh?

"I'm trying to help you—"

"Well, you can't." You took your finger and pointed it at your chest. "It hurts here. Everything about me is shattered and broken into a thousand little pieces and you can't do anything to fix it."

He shook his head. "Don't say that."

"God, and you only make it worse." Maybe this was unfair of you, but it hurt so bad you couldn't see clearly.

He looked pained. "Please don't say that."

"But you do." You stepped forward, nearly closing the gap between you. "You hurt me, Aaron. Having this conversation is hurting me. Please— please just stop. "

"Y/N." He whispered your name like it was his last Hail Mary. Tears responded to his call.

You couldn't do this. 

You pursed your lips together, stepping away from him altogether. "I can't be here anymore. I— I have to go."

He tried to reach after you, but he couldn't stop you from walking out the door. And as soon as you weren't in his sight, you were running. Running away from the same room you'd fallen asleep in time and time again. Running away from the man that occupied it. The same man who held your heart in his hands.

Hotch stood alone in his office, staring at the open door where you'd left. You took all the light with you.

You were a constant beacon in the darkness that surrounded your lives, brightening up the BAU day by day. That light was always there, even if it dimmed a bit. You chased it like a moth drawn to a flame. But now it'd been snuffed out.

You had flown too close to the sun.

And now your light was gone.

[wordsarelife]

—starlight

pairing: soft!mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: mattheo had been liking you for years and when you loose your cat, it's finally his time to prove how good of a boyfriend he would be

warnings: really small mention of a loved one dying

notes: y/n is a bit luna lovegood coded

the morning was hotter than the days before, even though it was slowly becoming fall. mattheo and his friends had decided to stay inside for the first time in weeks and were now sitting in the Iibrary, busy understanding their potions homework.

"so" enzo mumbled, the words a bit harder to recognize, because he had the tip of his quill between his lips "what is the answer to number eight?"

"if i tell you, you won't learn anything" theo, the only one who was really understanding the task at hand, groaned.

"yeah, but we would stop wasting our time" mattheo mumbled just silent enough so theo wouldn't hear. blaise, who sat next to him, laughed.

"come on, mate" draco started pleading "you know i normally get these, but it's so hot outside, i'd rather swim in the lake"

"well, you have to earn that first" theo was not budging under the pleading of his friends. blaise, draco, enzo and mattheo groaned simultaneously

"where is pansy? shouldn't she sit here with us and be annoyed at you?" blaise asked, while his eyes wandered to the empty spot next to draco, that was normally occupied by the girl.

"she's got detention with mcgonagall, i'm copying the answers for her" draco answered

"well, now that's unfair" mattheo shook his head "why don't you say anything about that, theo?"

it seemed like theo hadn't even listened to what his friends were talking about. he was busy reading the next number and looked up confused. "what?"

"forget it" mattheo hid his face in his hands, while blaise and enzo exchanged a look, rolling their eyes

"woah" blaise suddenly made next to him "isn't that y/n?"

mattheos head turned, so did the rest of his friend's.

it was indeed you. the slytherins watched in confusion how you climbed the ladder leaning against the shelf. their confusion only grew when you didn't stop climbing at the highest shelf, but used your arms to pull you up on top of the shelf.

"what is she doing?" enzo mumbled

“i have no clue” mattheo watched you closely, following your every move.

he had been kind of in love with you since the third grade. his friends found his crush on you quite interesting, considering you were a bit curious and weird, but somehow all of them agreed that it was in a cute way, a bit too stubborn, a bit too much in your own world.

maybe the carelessness and constant happy mood you were spotted with only added to their confusion. mattheo wasn’t normally the guy to go for girls like you. and it was out of the ordinary to see him as nervous as he was around you. girls normally didn't make him nervous, but you did.

they all gasped simultaneously, as one of your hands hit the shelf a bit too far left and almost made you fall down.

“oh” you said, both at your close call and their presence, you had only noticed them now. “hi” you used the hand that had almost caused you to fall to wave at them

“hey, y/n!” theo raised his hand, copying your greeting, while his eyes were still fixated on the potions book on the table in front of him. he was the only one of his friends who was also friends with you, a result of your similar interest in astronomy.

mattheo watched you closely. he had stood up to catch you, in case there was another close call. him and the rest of his friends watched you as you crawled along the shelf.

“what are you doing?” enzo asked, louder than he had planned which resulted in madam pince shushing him. "sorry" enzo cringed, but it was already too late.

his voice had been so loud and sudden, that it had made you shriek. like mattheo had predicted, you lost your balance and fell down the shelf. luckily, he caught you before you could hit the ground.

“thanks” you smiled, patting his chest and climbing out of his arms.

mattheo was stunned at how relaxed you still were after almost falling to your death. well, maybe not death but you still could've gotten hurt really bad.

“i was looking for my cat” you smiled as if it was the most logical explanation, answering enzo’s question, without any hard feeling about him causing you to fall. “but she isn’t up there”

“ahh, alright” enzo nodded, acting like he understood what you were talking about, but he looked as lost as mattheo felt.

“see you later” you waved your hand at the boys before you turned around and left the library.

mattheo quickly grabbed his potions book, ready to follow you.

“what are you doing?” theo looked at him with narrowed eyes, almost sounding offended “we haven’t finished number nine yet”

“i was trying to..” mattheo trailed off, pointing at where you had last stood

“go” draco directed, pushing theo, who was ready to get up and discuss things with mattheo, back down in his seat.

blaise plastered a hand over theo’s mouth as he started protesting. mattheo nodded at his friends, silently thanking them, before he ran out of the library, hoping to still catch you.

to his luck, you had enough time on you to walk through the halls slowly.

“hey” mattheo breathed, matching your step “do you need help looking for your cat?”

“sure” you seemed happy enough about his suggestion “her name is starlight, but she doesn’t really answer to that, so there’s no point in calling her”

“okay” mattheo nodded “and she normally spends her time on top of the library shelves?”

“sometimes” you shrugged “she mostly spends her time all over the castle”

“do you often do things like that?”

“what?” you smiled “climb on top of shelves and let pretty boys catch me? not really, no” you shook your head laughing, while mattheo was still stuck on what you had described him as.

“how does starlight look like?” he tried a different approach as he followed you through the halls, almost sure you were heading to the astronomy tower.

“she’s a ginger cat”

“well, that’s explains a lot” mattheo laughed and you joined in “why doesn’t she answer to her name?”

“she belonged to my grandfather, she would only ever answer his calling, or react to his voice in general” you explained “he died a few months ago and my parents thought about giving her away, so she's now staying with me”

“that’s sad” mattheo frowned “i’m sorry about your loss”

“don’t be” you smiled up at him with big eyes and he almost missed a step on the way up. “he wasn’t the nicest, i don’t think he even liked anyone apart from his cat, but she’s nice enough most of the time”

“i get it” mattheo nodded understandingly “so where would she normally hide?” he looked around the room, trying to spot the orange fur of your cat. now that he thought about it, he remembered you chasing her around the halls a few times.

“you mind helping me up?” you pointed at the wooden beam over both of your heads

“seems like she prefers the higher spots, huh?” mattheo asked sarcastically, before he picked you up without another word of protest

you climbed on top of the beam, turning your head, before you finally shook it and mattheo helped you back down.

“where could she be if she isn’t here either?”

“i have one last spot in mind” you nodded, thinking “if she isn’t there, then i don’t know where she could still be”

“well, hopefully she is”

“as long as she’s fine” you smiled

mattheo followed you back down the steps of the tower, pending what he could still ask you. he wouldn’t waste any time he could spend with you, he would make the most of it.

his mind was racing, trying to come up with something, but the only thing he could remember was the list of thirty six questions blaise had shown him the day before, swearing that those were the best icebreakers at a first date.

well, this was far from a first date, but it did not hurt to try

“given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” he muttered, recalling the first question.

your face lit up at his sudden question. “that’s a fun question” you smiled “let me think about it. does the person have to be alive?”

mattheo shook his head

“well then i would pick my grandmother, i think” you smiled, deep in thought “she was a great woman. i remember my grandfather being a decent person back when she was alive. she used to make these crocheted hats for me. i have them in almost every color”

“that sounds nice” mattheo smiled as he noticed how your features lit up while talking about your grandma. he followed you into the great hall, not even questioning it.

“what about you?” you asked him, taking a quick turn and walking up the steps around the wall of the entryway.

“what about me?” mattheo repeated confused

“yeah” you laughed at his forgetfulness “who would you have dinner with?”

“i don’t know” mattheo shrugged

“i don’t accept that answer” you shook your head “i can't believe that no one comes to mind at that”

there was someone coming to mattheo’s mind. but he couldn’t tell you. right now, he only wanted to have dinner with one person and that person was you, and maybe your cat, because not finding her would probably mean that you would be sad otherwise.

“merlin” mattheo answered quickly and you raised your eyebrows

“fan?”

“the biggest” mattheo grinned and cringed the moment your eyes left his face. he was ready to turn around and run away, but your sudden calling kept him from it.

“starlight!” you laughed, holding out your arms and catching the orange cat that had been about to fall from the highest shelf.

“hey” mattheo cooed, softly stroking the cat’s head. the cat hissed at him and he quickly pulled his hand back.

“she likes you” you smiled brightly despite starlight proving the opposite.

“you really think so?” mattheo asked unsurely.

“of course” you were pulling the cat close to your chest “she’s smiling at you”

mattheo wasn’t so sure about that. starlight looked like she was ready to claw his eyes out if left unattended in the same room.

starlight settled on top of your shoulder as you began to walk back down the stairs. mattheo was ready to follow, but starlight hissed at him over you shoulder and it took him a second longer to catch up to you.

despite anything you had previously said, he was sure that that cat absolutely loved you, even if she often spend her time sleeping in the most ridiculous places and making you search for her. he was sure you loved her just as much, even you had so casually talked about the cat's situation he had noticed that you couldn't have endured your parents just giving her away. he had also noticed the worry in your eyes when stalright hadn't been in the astronomy tower.

additional to that, he was also sure she already hated him. maybe she could sense the inappropriate thoughts he sometimes had about you.

“thank you for your help” you had walked mattheo back to the doors of the library, after he had claimed that his friends would probably appreciate his return to finish the homework.

“no problem” he smiled and he had almost sighed at how pretty you were, just simply standing in front of him “i’d do anything” he mumbled under his breath.

“what?” you laughed, not having understood a sound of what he had mumbled. starlight was busy playing with a strand of your hair. mattheo had to smile at that and you mirrored his expression.

“doesn’t matter” mattheo shrugged and his smile grew brighter as he watched you laugh at him.

you softly held a hand in front of starlight's eyes, before you stood on your tiptoes, softly kissing mattheo's cheek. “thank you, maybe we could have dinner some day” you said, before you waved him a final goodbye “say goodbye starlight” the cat hissed at him once again and you smiled pleased, before you turned around and walked back in the direction of your dorm.

“i’d do anything” mattheo repeated his earlier words when you were far enough away. his cheeks were red and his hand touched the spot on which your lips had rested a few seconds ago. “anything”

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Thirty new measles cases were reported this week in Canada, most of them in New Brunswick.

That brings the total number of cases reported in Canada to 130 in 2024, a significant jump from the 12 total cases reported last year.

The latest data, published Friday, tracks cases reported Nov. 3 – 9, 2024. The majority of the cases are in New Brunswick and are part of a larger outbreak that has seen 44 people contract measles in the Fredericton and Upper Saint John River Valley area.

Continue reading

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[beauty-funny-trippy]

Reasons why we know there's something wrong with Grandpa:

• believes immigrants are eating their neighbors pets because he heard someone say it on TV (without any evidence) • thinks injecting disinfectant into our veins might be a good idea. (It's definitely not, don't try it.) • claims America's F35 fighter jet is completely invisible, even if you're right next to it (like Wonder Woman's plane)

• praises white supremacists and KKK members who were chanting antisemitic hate speech, calling them "very fine people" • focuses on imaginary issues like preventing children from changing gender while at school, but ignores real problems like school shootings • thought it was a good idea to give away our desperately needed Covid test machines to our adversary ("Grandpa, what have you done?" — he can't be left alone for a minute) • decided to believe Putin's lies, but dismiss findings from America's intelligence agencies • claims America had airplanes during the Revolutionary War

• believes in the Nazi ideology that immigrants are "poisoning the blood of our country," and says some migrants are actually subhuman "animals" • insisted that the U.S. would have fewer coronavirus cases if it conducted less testing (yes, a U.S. president in charge of controlling the crisis, actually said something this inept, repeatedly) • due to his incompetence and lies during the Covid crisis, the U.S. had one of the highest rates of Covid deaths in the world • thinks windmills cause cancer and kill whales • speaks endlessly about his concerns re: dying by electrocution from a boat battery or being eaten by a shark

• thinks he's above the law and, as president, should be able to commit as many crimes as he wants • is a billionaire who whines about how badly he's been treated, then he's chauffeured to his private jet • likes to discuss Arnold Palmer's penis • after NINE years of repeatedly promising to unveil his Healthcare Plan "very soon," he admits he still has no real plan —only "concepts of a plan" • has a bizarre attraction to the fictional cannibal and serial killer, Hannibal Lector (why? no one knows —and everyone's afraid to ask)

• advocates dangerous plots, like using the military against Americans who disagree with him, or using the DOJ to arrest them, or just telling people to "beat the crap out of them" and he'll pay their legal fees • thinks having a national day of violence is a good idea (we should never have let Grandpa watch "The Purge") • wants to be the "law and order president," yet this 34 time convicted felon incites people to riot and to commit criminal acts of violence • unable to take the loss of an election like a man, he had a temper tantrum like a toddler, that culminated in a treasonous insurrection

⠀This guy is so delusional, he claims he's a genius because he often speaks incoherently in something he calls "the Weave." Here are two examples: • "How disgusted were all when we see all of us are when we see three days ago when we viewed their parade." Asheboro, NC, 8/21/24 • When asked, "What specific legislation will you commit to, to make child care affordable?" He responded, “Well, I would do that, and we’re sitting down, you know; I was, somebody, we had Senator Marco Rubio and my daughter, Ivanka, who was so impactful on that issue. ...But I think when you talk about the kind of numbers that I’m talking about that because the childcare is childcare, couldn’t, you know, there’s something you have to have it, in this country you have to have it.” New York, NY, 9/5/24 ⠀If this was anybody else's Grandpa, the family would be having discussions about who's going to go with Grandpa to the doctor to find out what's wrong with him, and who's going to be in charge of finding him a nice convalescent home to live in. ⠀My suggestion is that it might be a good idea to elect a president who has no cognitive impairment and can tell the difference between reality and delusions. Personally, I think that's a rather important quality in a president.