#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

[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.

[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.

[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 😭😭

[arolesbianism]

I hate making spreadsheets fuck spreadsheets. Anyways fun fact Richard and the lowest stat total of all the main facility nuggets. You go bestie don't do your damn job keep up the not work

[thewisewill80sbyers]

now tiktok got me suspecting that I might have multiple sclerosis... I cannot have one day of peace, I feel like an hypocondriac with that app... meanwhile I DON'T want to go to the doctor if I can avoid it 😀

[thecosywinteremo]

My AO3 is turning ten years old this month! It's both very cool and slightly scary.

https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIntelligentHufflepuff/works

[bagginsluck]

Rabies phobia to Rabies hyperfixation pipeline

[reasonsforhope]

"Dr James Odongo sat eating greens at a restaurant in Apac district in northern Uganda when his phone rang. The Ministry of Health had included Apac on its list of the 105 hard-hit districts that would be included in the first roll-out of the new malaria vaccine.

Odongo – who is the health officer for the district – felt ecstatic. Malaria, a leading cause of death in Uganda and most of Africa, had killed 41 children under five years in the district in 2024. This vaccine had been proven to help avert the severe forms of the disease that are responsible for most childhood malaria fatalities...

“The Ministry and WHO had set most of the guidelines for the roll-out exercise, including a directive that the vaccine be integrated into routine immunisation,” said Odongo in an interview with VaccinesWork. “But we wanted to familiarise our nurses and other health educators with details about the vaccine – and why it is administered in four doses (at 6, 7, 8 and 18 months) to give children optimal protection.”

“We wanted our nurses and other frontline health workers to understand how the vaccine worked so they could explain it to mothers and other community leaders,” he said. “We wanted to get on top of any misinformation that could cause hesitancy, and encourage mothers to bring their eligible children for the vaccination.”

Apac can’t wait

Odongo and team conducted an aggressive, thorough community awareness campaign to let people know that vaccine would soon be available, and how the ground-breaking antigen would soon help to tamp down the incidence of severe malaria in children under five years.

But unknown to Odongo and team, most of the mothers and community leaders in the district were as enthusiastic about the vaccine as the health professionals were, and looking forward to the roll-out.

The community’s eagerness was evident when the Ministry, in partnership with Gavi and the World Health Organization, launched the vaccine in the district on 2 April. Hundreds of mothers and community leaders from across the country and district thronged the function, presided over by Minister of Health Dr Jane Ruth Aceng, seeking the jab. For many of them, there weren’t enough hours in the day: health workers could only vaccinate 245 children before it got dark.

Holiver Atim, whose baby was vaccinated that day, said she wouldn’t have missed out on the opportunity – not after losing her firstborn to malaria. “I was one of the first people to arrive at the venue that day,” she said. “Malaria has taken so much from our family. So, if there was a chance that the vaccine would protect my other child, I wanted him to have it.”

Hard-bitten

A study published in the Open Journal of Statistics shows that Apac has the highest number of infectious mosquito bites globally, estimated at 1,500 per person a year – the reason the district also posts one of the highest malaria incidence and death rates in the country...

“Malaria is such a big burden here,” said Odongo. “It is the leading cause of severe illness and death in children under five years. We have a slight drop in cases during the dry season, but when the rains return and the swamps are saturated, cases surge right back.”

A ‘godsend’

The vaccine is a godsend, he said. The Ministry allocated an initial volley of 7,700 doses of the R21/Matrix-M vaccine to the district – although it targeted to vaccinate at least 9,225 children. As soon as Odongo and team received the vaccine they integrated it into the district’s routine immunisation so nurses at each of its 19 vaccinating health facilities could administer the shot alongside other antigens...

“We are seeing a tremendous demand for the vaccine, not only in Apac, but in most of the 105 high and moderate transmission districts that have rolled out the antigen. In fact, in most of these areas, the fear is that they will deplete the doses before every eligible child has been vaccinated,” said Akuno. “For instance, three parishes in Kole district, also in northern Uganda, have already utilised their allocated vaccines.

The Ministry of Health distributed just under 2.3 million doses of the vaccine early this year, with the initial goal of reaching 1.1 million children under two years in 105 high and moderate transmission districts across the country. But it plans to expand the roll-out countrywide.

Optimism on the frontline

It’s not just mothers who are enthusiastic about the vaccine. Moris Ogwang, registered nurse and deputy in-charge of the paediatric ward at Apac General Hospital, is looking forward to seeing a change in the grim statistics he records daily.

“We admit about 20 kids a day. But of these, 18 are usually because of malaria,” said Ogwang in an interview with VaccinesWork. “Sometimes we get babies who are barely weeks old, and they have severe malaria and pneumonia and need to be transfused.”

“The vaccine will help to stop such complicated cases,” he said. “It may not prevent children from contracting malaria, but it will help to build their immunity and stop severe forms of the disease, which are our biggest challenge, really.”

Aceng made the same argument during the 2 April launch. She said that the vaccine was expected to prevent at least 800 cases of severe malaria in children every day. The vaccine is also anticipated to ease the financial burden imposed by the disease, saving families at least 15,000 Ugandan shillings (US$ 4.18) per case.

“We might not realise its impact immediately, but in a year or two, people will see its benefit,” she said.

Odongo is likewise optimistic. “I am positive that with the introduction of the malaria vaccine, alongside other preventive measures, like the use of treated mosquito nets, integrated community case management of malaria, and larviciding, we shall reduce cases of children who die of malaria,” he said.

-via Gavi, June 13, 2025

[classica-meretrix]

P.D.A.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader genre: fluff content/warnings: early seasons spencer, established relationship, use of y/n, lots of pda obvi, mentions of murder summary: spencer isn't one for public displays of attention, especially around the bau team, but when a case calls for it, he shocks everyone a/n: ignore that I accidentally posted this the other day

"The unsub is a white male, most likely in his early twenties. He suffered a large business failure at a young age, and is still attempting to grasp at those straws," Hotch explained is his typical serious monotone, slowly pacing the edge of the desk. "His victims are other young men who are trying to do the same, along with their girlfriends. We assume his failure cost him an important relationship, one which appeared to be fairly hot and heavy, as our victims have all been reported to display a lot of PDA." Hotch stopped in front of the table, turning to fully face us now. "We'll need a 'tech bro' type, someone who's good with numbers and good enough with computers."

All eyes turned to Spencer.

"The girlfriend role is no question. Our highest chance of this being believable is with Y/N."

"I think you mean our only chance," Morgan mocked, leaning back in his chair.

Spencer gave him a slightly puzzled look, as if he didn't understand the point he was making.

"Sometimes I wonder if these two are even dating," he continued. "There's no way he'd be able to pull that off with someone else."

Hotch let out a sigh, his mouth forming a hard line at Morgan's comment, but he pushed on. "The rest of us will be going to the party, but we're to refrain from contacting either Spencer or Y/N for extended periods of time without reason. If anyone asks, we're investors, and will most likely be asked to hold a fake business conversation at one or more points throughout the party. Make it look like it's going well, we believe this is what triggers the unsub. Success is the key. We meet at the jet in fifteen."

Hotch was already out the door by time I'd finished processing his words. I stood to collect a file from the table, gently nudging Spencer as he came to stand next to me.

"So, Mr. And Mrs. Hot and Heavy," Morgan began, a cocky grin on his lips. "Think you can pull this off, Reid?"

"Of course," Spencer answered flatly. "It's no different than any other case."

Morgan raised his eyebrows. "You do realize you'll actually have to touch her for this to believable, right? You won't be able to get by on just sharing coffee."

Spencer's brows were knitted together. Blatant confusion still evident in his expression.

"Yes, I realize that."

"Morgan, lay off, will you?" I piped up. "He'll be just fine. Let's get to the jet."

He relented, stalking out of the room with that cocky smirk still plastered on his lips.

I leaned back against the chair, pulling my legs up next to me. Morgan's words rang in my mind, plaguing me with unnecessary worries.

I knew I shouldn't dwell on it, I mean this was by no means Spencer's first time in the field, and I was well aware that he could pull off the guise of a touchy boyfriend, but Spencer's field work typically played off of his apparent nervousness, which completely went against the character, and he had never been fond of PDA, especially not around the BAU.

Sure, he could be touchy and all that in private, but that was mainly reserved for the privacy and comfort of one of our apartments, not some random skyrise chalked full of sleezy businessmen.

My eyes drifted to his sleeping form, curled up in a tight ball of one of the benches. A soft, serene expression was settled on his face as he laid swaddled in a thin blanket.

Somehow, he was going to act as someone completely different to himself, all while actively looking for the unsub. That part I could at least be of some use for, and I intended to do my best.

"How do I look?" he whispered in my ear as we walked towards the elevator, his hand resting loosely around my waist.

I wanted to say something like 'sexy as hell', but figured a simple "perfect" would do the trick. I reached up to loosen his tie just bit further, letting it rest where the top button of his shirt was undone. He was dressed up, but in someways much less formal than usual. His suit jacket hung open, his shirt and tie loose around his neck, his hair ruffled. This was a look I could most definitely get behind.

Spencer led me into the elevator, pressing the button for the penthouse, where the networking party was being hosted. We were the last of the BAU team to arrive, Gideon and Morgan being sent in separately, and Hotch and Elle as a young investing couple.

Spencer's eyes watched the electric panel above the door, following the numbers as they rose with the elevator. Just as the screen showed '25'—the floor just below the penthouse—Spencer's entire demeanor seemed to change.

His back straightened, adding at least another two inches to his height, he adopted the hint of a cocky smirk, and his hand dropped a dangerous amount, finding where my thigh met my hip with a firm hold.

The doors slid open, and he led me into the crowded room. The ceilings were easily twenty feet high, each central space adorned with an elaborate chandelier. Men and women alike, dressed to the nines, filled the space.

Spencer made no hesitation to strike up a conversation with the most capable looking businessman in the room, keeping me pressed to his side as he began spewing off the details of the fabricated business.

"Really? You don't say!" the older man cheered. "What a splendid proposition! What propelled you to even think of such a thing?"

"Child prodigy," Spencer answered, his tone laced with an intoxicating amount of self-confidence. I allowed myself to laugh a little too hard, his hand caressing my thigh as he shamelessly cast a hungry look down my body, tugging at the low neckline of my dress.

The investor laughed at Spencer's comment, taking a sip of his drink. I didn't miss the way his eyes followed a similar trail as Spencer's, but instead with a mix of intrigue and vague uncomfortableness at the blatant PDA.

As Spencer began rattling on again, I latched on to his neck, placing feverish kisses as he spoke. I had just begun to suck a decent mark on his collarbone when the man cleared his throat and made an awkward excuse to vacate the conversation.

I pulled back with a laugh, Spencer mimicking me. "That one's going to leave a mark. Sorry."

He roughly groped my ass, pulling me closer. "I'm never going to hear the end of this from Morgan."

"Speak of the devil," I began, watching as Derek appeared over Spencer's shoulder. He spun to face the visitor, pulling me along with him to rest against his chest.

"Well, well, well," Morgan began, his tone teasing yet impressed. "Who knew you were such a bad boy, Reid?" He made sure to keep his voice down, low enough that eves droppers wouldn't be able to discern that our talk wasn't strictly business over the party crowd.

"I told you I'd pull it off," Spencer stated bluntly. "Pretending to date my girlfriend isn't an exceptionally difficult task."

"Well, I don't know what you consider dating, but there's a big difference between what you two are like in the bullpen and what you're like now." Morgan's eyes flitted down to Spencer's hands as he spoke, which were now nudging up the already short hem of my dress to rest between my thighs.

"That's work," he said, as if that completely cleared up Morgan's comment.

"Hold on," I mumbled, catching sight of someone over Derek's shoulder. A tall blonde man, a few years younger than Spencer, watching the three of us like a hawk, though his gaze mainly flickered between Spencer and my rising hemline. "Unsub, ten o'clock."

Morgan immediately looked towards the crowd behind Spencer and myself, his brows scrunching.

"My ten o'clock," I huffed. "And don't look directly at him."

"I see him," Spencer whispered in my ear. "Morgan, notify Hotch. He'll make contact as soon as you're gone."

Derek gave the slightest nod, stumbling back as he raised his glass. "You're a corporate genius, man! Hit me up some time," he practically yelled, before disappearing back into the crowd.

[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.”

[nordickies]

What's the story or reason behind "Sweden is gay" jokes?

I could just say “it’s a comedy trope” and leave it at that—but the truth is, the topic is much more nuanced and, in my opinion, genuinely fascinating. The perception of Swedish men as “gay” in Finland isn’t some modern invention; it’s generational. The trope has been around so long that most people have no idea where it actually came from. So let me give you a proper, researched answer!

For most of history, same-sex relationships weren’t explicitly named in Sweden's (and by extension Finland's) criminal law. Instead, sexual crimes were defined through Biblical principles, such as the sins of Sodom, and punishments were meted out inconsistently. In the late 19th century, however, the criminalization of homosexuality became a public issue, driven by contemporary medical debates that aimed to purge society of its supposed moral decay in the name of racial hygiene. Homosexuality was medicalized, and it began to be classified as a psychiatric illness—an abnormal deviation from “biologically normal heterosexuality.” At the same time, psychoanalysts were also looking for ways to "cure" this deviance.

Contradictorily, homosexuality was seen both as an innate trait of certain “lower-class” people and as a contagious epidemic that could "infect" anyone who wasn't careful. Sexuality, now central to modernity, became heavily regulated by social norms. In Sweden, the government appointed numerous commissions focused on sexuality, primarily concerning sexual hygiene and procreation, essentially regulating who was allowed, or deemed desirable, to reproduce.

World War II brought the topic of homosexuality further into public discourse. Beyond the documentation of violent Nazi persecution of homosexuals, Finland began to confront same-sex relationships that emerged on the front lines and in blacked-out Helsinki during the war. War placed people into heavily gendered environments, where same-sex intimacy could form more easily. At the same time, Sweden decriminalized homosexuality in 1944, which brought the topic into Finnish media. Finnish tabloids wrote extensively about Swedish homosexuals and the spread of the so-called “Swedish disease.” Scandals in neighboring countries—like the 1955 Prostitution Network case in Copenhagen and Sweden’s Haijby and Kejne cases—distorted the topic, connecting homosexuality and pedophilia in the Finnish debate.

Stockholms Tidningen 22/1950 - "Homosexuals are a serious problem in Stockholm – rural youth are the victims"

The homosexual, as the "other" and the opposite of the heterosexual, was depicted as a moral threat to society in the 1950s. During the anxiety of the Cold War, the “other” became a public enemy and a danger to national security.

After the war, the national rebuilding project included a focus on moral reconstruction. Attitudes toward sexuality became increasingly conservative. The fear and panic around homosexuality led Finnish authorities to monitor, e.g., parks and public bathrooms, where gay men were believed to meet each other. The 1950s saw the highest number of convictions for homosexuality in Finnish history, with over 1,000 men prosecuted. Public discourse and reporting on homosexuality led to the police becoming more active to prevent a moral panic, which in turn led to new convictions, which were reported in the tabloid magazines—starting a self-feeding cycle. Sensational headlines framed victims of sexual assault as complicit, citing “loose morals,” drunkenness, or a tendency toward debauchery, the victim-blaming adding shame to an already stigmatized homosexuality. There was also the threat of blackmail, real or fabricated, that could ruin people’s personal relationships, careers, and public image.

Viikon Totuus 11/1959 - "Male homosexuals in the limelight: Is the 'Swedish disease' spreading in Finland?

Whereas homosexuality was associated with communism in the United States and the United Kingdom, in Sweden, homosexuality was seen as a problem within the right-wing and upper classes of society, with young and impoverished working-class men being the victims. In Finland, similar ideas arose, as homosexuality was primarily considered an urban problem. Until the 1950s, Finland was a largely agrarian society where people, regardless of gender, were expected to contribute to agricultural labor. Oftentimes, it was the women who had to do labor-intensive work while the men were drafted as soldiers. This fostered a less rigid gender hierarchy, to a point it's argued that rural life didn’t necessarily stigmatize the "feminized" man in a same-sex relationship. Same-sex relationships were seen as less problematic than extramarital relationships between women and men, which could result in illegitimate children. As long as everyone contributed to the community, same-sex couples could often go unbothered. However, this concealable nature of same-sex relationships meant that rural communities weren’t exposed to homosexuality as a concept until the media framed it as a threat. What had once gone unnamed became a symbol of urban moral decay and a danger to national purity.

Viikon Totuus 1/1963 - "Homophiles chase boys and men in central Helsinki"

In Western patriarchal societies, homosexuality is “othered” because it challenges hegemonic masculinity, which relies on the expectation of unequal heterosexual relationships. Male bonds are expected to remain non-sexual to uphold the social hierarchy. Men who deviate or fight against these norms are seen as weak, effeminate, and thus lacking masculinity. This dynamic fosters homophobia, misogyny, and heterosexism, keeping heterosexual men united in opposition to anything deemed feminine or non-conforming. By associating homosexuality with something “other” in the new wave of moralism in the 20th century, it was possible to create an image that Finnish masculinity and homosexuality are not compatible. Homosexuality becomes the “other” to the Finnish man’s identity—something that cannot co-exist within him. Swedish men who are “feminine and interested in men” create a contrast to the “strong heterosexual Finnish man”. The othering of the Swedish man was easy because Finnish national identity was, from the start, shaped in opposition to Swedishness. By excluding homosexuality from the cultural narrative, society reasserts its ideals of masculinity, moral integrity, and national cohesion. The othering of the Swedish man gives a satisfying itch to the inferior complex and validates the national identity.

I personally think it's worth noting the upper class of Finnish society being traditionally Swedish speaking (and gayness seen as a vice of the rich), alongside the rural flight which lead to over 400,000 Finns moving to Sweden between 1950s-1970s and thus exposing Finns to more liberated sexual environment, have in my opinion certainly also contributed to the pre-existing conception of Swedishness as inherently homosexual compared to that of Finnishness.

Norwegian petition in Dagbladet magazine, 28.6.1979. "We demand that the competent authorities in Finland immediately repeal the anti-gay law to bring Finland into line with other Nordic countries."

Timeline of the development of same-sex rights in both countries:

Homosexuality criminalized: 🇸🇪 1864 / 🇫🇮 1894

Homosexuality decriminalized: 🇸🇪 1944 / 🇫🇮 1971

No longer classified as illness: 🇸🇪 1979 / 🇫🇮 1981

Anti-discrimination laws: 🇸🇪 1987 / 🇫🇮 2000

Registered partnership: 🇸🇪 1995 / 🇫🇮 2002

Adoption rights: 🇸🇪 2003 / 🇫🇮 2009

Marriage equality: 🇸🇪 2009 / 🇫🇮 2017

During the HIV crisis in 1987, Sweden passed a law banning gay saunas and prostitution (repealed in 2004). In Finland, although gay sex was decriminalized in 1971, it was replaced with a “Promotion Ban,” which made "promoting" or discussing homosexuality effectively illegal until 1999. This vague law created a culture of censorship and fear, discouraging media from covering LGBTQ topics positively—or at all. As a result, many queer Finns sought refuge in more progressive countries like Sweden and Denmark, forming small diaspora communities. It's worth noting that Sweden and Denmark also liberalized porn in the late 1960s, while Finland had strict regulation regarding "promiscuous publications" until the 1990s. Swedish and Danish magazines and films were imported both by private consumers and smuggled by sex shops, reinforcing the association with sexuality, and especially sexual deviancy, with the Western neighbours.

Attitudes towards homosexuality in Finland started to change slowly after the decriminalization. However, the repeated generational perceptions of "effeminate" Swedish men compared to heteromasculine Finnish men continued to shape the perceptions of homosexuality in, e.g., comedy tropes. Additionally, the perception of homosexuality as a sensitive issue that wasn’t being talked about during the Promotion Ban left a mark. Belonging to a sexual minority was seen as a private matter that should not have any weight in public debate, which left especially politicians hesitant to bring up LGBTQ issues forward, and thus, LGBTQ legislation in Finland moved forward painfully slowly.

Homosexuality, since its appearance in wide public discourse in Finland, was associated with Swedishness from day one, being framed as an urban disease, sensationalized through scandals and pseudo-science, sparking moral panic. The issue cut deep into medical, social, and cultural anxiety. The othering made it easier for Finnish society to distance itself from homosexuality by projecting it onto a "familiar" outsider, the Swede, who was easy to make fun of.

Recommendations for further reading:

Juvonen, T., Vastapaino. 2021. Varjoelämää ja julkisia salaisuuksia — Homoseksuaalisuuden rakentuminen sotien jälkeisessä Suomessa. https://www.finna.fi/Record/fikka.5795725?lng=en-gb 

Kettunen, S. 2022. Martti rakkaani: Hiljaisuus ja vaikeneminen seksuaalisuuden kokemuksessa miesparin kirjeenvaihdossa 1956–1961. https://urn.fi/URN:NBN:fi:tuni-202210267896 

Hagman, S. 2014. Seven queer brothers: narratives of forbidden male same-sex desires from modernizing Finland 1894-1971. https://hdl.handle.net/1814/32118 

Põldsam, R., Taavetti, R. 2024. Sisters Across the Gulf: Transnational Connections and Frictions in Estonian–Finnish Lesbian Networks of the early 1990s. https://doi.org/10.34041/ln.v29.933 

Rydström, J., Mustola, K. 2007. Criminally Queer: Homosexuality and Criminal Law in Scandinavia 1842-1999. https://library.oapen.org/viewer/web/viewer.html?file=/bitstream/handle/20.500.12657/34830/353810.pdf. 

Sundén, J., Paasonen, S., & Tiidenberg, K. 2024. Sex at the Borders: A Special Issue Introduction. https://doi.org/10.34041/ln.v29.928 

Söderström, G. 1999. Sympatiens hemlighetsfulla makt. Stockholms homosexuella 1860-1960.

Nyegaard, N., Heede, D. & Rydström, J. 2022. Special Issue Editorial: Nordic LGBTQ Histories. https://doi.org/10.1080/08038740.2022.2104022

Suomi on Queer. 2023. Yle. https://areena.yle.fi/1-66734852 

[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.

[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.)

[unsolicited-opinions]

3/26/25

Haviv Rettig Gur on deaths in Gaza:

The full list of Gazans killed in the war has been released in Gaza. Possibly. At the very least, as Israeli analysts are now finding, there aren't duplicate ID numbers or other tells one finds in obviously manipulated data sets. But here's another reason to trust the data: It shows just how much Israel's warfighting tried to separate combatant from civilian. It seems unlikely that a faked Gazan data set would show such a result. The graph in the first tweet of this thread shows male to female deaths. If female deaths are assumed to be a civilian baseline (the age distribution is roughly the general Gazan population's age distribution), then the enormous spike of the blue line, right in the area of the graph that represents fighting-age men, is the best likely measure of combatant deaths. According to this analyst, the gap comes to over 16,000 dead, or almost exactly a third of total deaths. That's a Gazan data set, not an Israeli one. And it's the most complete one so far, the only one that claims to give all the names of all the dead, the one most likely to be an honest recording of the actual dead. And according to this data set, the death toll in Gaza is two civilians to each combatant, well in line with the highest standards of modern democratic armies. To be clear - this caveat is obvious, but it's important enough to say it explicitly nonetheless - the debate isn't over whether children died in Gaza or crimes were committed. The answer to both is yes. There were definitely and unquestionably war crimes committed in Gaza, air strikes that should not have been carried out. And there are thousands of dead children in this data set. The debate is over the extent, whether these are at a level consistent with the inevitable costs of even the most legitimate kind of war, which will always be horrible, or whether the best data we have shows wanton Israeli killing and disregard for moral rules and international laws. Israel's haters will tweet pictures of dead children in response. If they did that for every war, I'd take them seriously and sympathetically. But the vast majority of them don't. They don't care about dead children, only about destroying Israel. And so they can't actually tell us anything about whether our army, broadly speaking, has fought morally. But this data set can. All war is evil, all war is hell, all war is a kind of civilizational failure. But war is sometimes nevertheless legitimate and inevitable. International humanitarian law came about not to end war, because ending war is impossible, but to mitigate its evils. If this data set is correct - again, a data set released from Gaza and not at all intended to validate any Israeli argument about its battlefield standards - then the costs imposed on Gaza by Israeli warfighting methods are consistent with what is generally considered in the West to be moral and legitimate. It is a comparable ratio to the 2016 Battle of Mosul in which Iraq, the Kurds and America drove ISIS out of the city. War is bad. I respect people who vehemently oppose this one, who question the Israeli political leadership's decisions, who use the war to debate the larger question of Palestinian independence and statehood. These are all legitimate responses to the suffering of Gazans. As is the argument I personally agree with that this war was the only path available to us to rid ourselves and Gaza of the neverending and endlessly destructive scourge of Hamas. But it nevertheless matters - indeed, it may be the most important thing over the long term - that this war's civilian casualties were not worse than other comparable wars, and that even Gazan data sets show that to be the case.

The thread to which Haviv refers is here