#why are trains in poland so weird

[roach-in-a-box]

a demoman doodle i coloured while on the train (reference under cut)

[woso-dreamzzz]

Leaving VII

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Olympic chaos with your sister

Y/NPutellas.S has started a live video. Click to join!

"-Got two backpacks," You're saying as Alexia clicks on your video," I think one of them might become my racket bag because the one I'm using right now is falling apart."

You shove the bags away, glancing around the space as you drag more towards you.

"There's a toiletry bag as well which is full of stuff I probably won't even use."

You pause as you scroll through the comments.

"What sport am I competing in? Oh, I'm doing tennis...Who will be the hardest to play against? Iga, always. I train with her most of the time and I think I've only beaten her a few matches this year. She's scary. Coco always gives me a good competition too. I think she text me a few hours ago but I haven't answered just yet."

You go back to showing off your haul.

You're very complimentary of all of the shoes but you seem confused as to why you've been given so many socks.

Alexia takes a screenshot of a weird face you make while trying on the bucket hat and hastily makes it her profile picture.

"I'm not a fan of the opening skirt," You tell your followers," It's not really my style. I'll wear it because I have to but...What's that? My sister's here?"

You crowd a bit closer to your phone, brows furrowed as you scroll up looking for Alexia's comments.

She feels triumphant at the look of horror on your face when you see her profile picture.

"Alexia!" You shriek," Change it back! My eyes aren't even open! Ale, please!"

Alexia does not change it back and you swear under your breath at her.

"I'm telling Mama!"

Alexia Putellas: Go ahead, you little snitch

"I'm not a snitch!"

Alexia Putellas: Yes, you are

"Don't listen to her guys! She's such a liar!"

You've always been more active on social media than Alexia and fans eat up any content you post on your TikTok. Most of your fans are just people that watch tennis but you've gone viral overnight when you posted a video of you and Iga reuniting at the Olympic Village.

Suddenly, everyone wants content from you and you're posting more than you ever have before.

A lot of it still centres around your tennis, out on the practice courts with the rest of team Spain but there's more domestic things like you retaping your racket grip and showing off everything in the Olympic Village.

Something in Alexia snaps when you make a video complaining about how uncomfortable your cardboard bed is. Suddenly, she's stitching your video.

Her camera pans across her normal hotel bed and ends with her giving a thumbs up to the camera with a smug grin on her face.

Her own fans go crazy over her posting something outside of sponsorships and it's strange to see that some people don't even know who you are.

woso.alexia.engen: Who was the first person in the video???? -> captainklittle: Alexia's little sister! She's representing Spain for tennis!

A second stitch appears hours later, piggybacking off a video of you complaining about your lack of AC. There's no sound apart from the very deliberate flick of Alexia's own AC switch.

It seems every complaint you post, Alexia finds a way to show off how much better she has it in a hotel outside of Paris.

You decide, perhaps a little pettily, to show off what she's missing.

"Hi, guys!" You say," I know a lot of people were wondering about pin trading so I thought I would bring you along for the ride! I've already got a Poland one from Iga and a US one from Coco but I've been wanting a Team GB one and I'm also meeting up with Paolini so she can give me an Italy one."

It's another live video and thank god there's a break in training, so Alexia can jump onto it again.

Jenni and Misa crowd around her at the same time, curious as to what's going on with you.

"I was talking to Carlos at breakfast and he was telling me that the coaches have ordered us all mattress toppers because the beds have started to affect how we're performing."

Alexia Putellas: Sucks to be you, doesn't it?

"Alexia, I swear to god if you keep bullying me then I'm telling Mama and she'll fly out to whoop your ass!"

Alexia Putellas: 🤪

"And Jenni I knew that it's you that just sent that because Alexia doesn't understand emojis."

"Fuck," Jenni mutters.

"Wait, give me the phone. I'll fix it," Misa says.

Alexia Putellas: Who's Jenni?

"Misa, I know that's you as well. Stop trying to cover for each other and I'll tell Mama and she'll whoop all of you."

Alexia doesn't get her phone back for the rest of your live but she does get a strongly worded text from Eli after it's over to grow up and not let her friends bully you.

Alexia calls you a snitch.

You remind her that she should stop bullying you.

"Look who it is!" Jenni cajoles as you come running out of the village to crash into Alexia," Baby Putellas!"

But you're not really listening to her as Alexia presses her forehead against yours, whispering fast Catalan to you as you giggle.

"Aw..." Misa continues where Jenni left off," Look at them! Two sisters! Reunited!"

You and Alexia push each other away, turning your back and pretending that you weren't hugging just a few moments ago.

You turn back to her quickly, hand out. "Can I have your pins?"

"What? No! They're mine!"

"You're not even in the Village! You can't use them!"

"Yes I can!" Alexia splutters out," I've been trading them!"

"Yeah? With who?"

"Jenni!"

"Liar! You've got the same pins! Come on, Ale. Give them over!"

"I will...for a price."

As Alexia lays out her terms, you bring everyone up to your room.

Jenni and Misa split off briefly to check out the dining hall but Alexia comes straight up with you.

"It's actually cardboard," She says, poking at your bed frame.

"Yeah? Do you think we were all lying about that? It's proper cardboard. You can draw on it if you want."

A smile splits your sister's face open.

"Never mind. I don't want you drawing on my bed."

Alexia pokes it. "Do you think it's true? That two people can't get on it at the same time?"

You shrug, rummaging through your bedside table. "I don't know. Why?"

You never get your answer though.

Arms are around your waist suddenly and you're being hauled backwards as Alexia slams herself onto your bed, dragging you back with her.

You may not get an answer but Alexia certainly does because the moment the two of you land, there's an almighty ripping noise and your bed goes to ground very quickly.

"Oops," You sister says.

"Alexia!"

"Sorry?"

"You don't sound very sorry at all."

"Yeah...You're right. I'm not sorry in the slightest. Hey! Stop hitting me!"

"You're lucky I'm not beating you with my rackets!"

"Hey. Hey! It's fine! You can get a new bed."

"Jenni and Misa are going to take the piss out of me! How could you do this, Ale?"

As annoying as your sister is, she at least has the decency to push the blame off onto her friends as you both hastily raise your bed up again and wait for Jenni and Misa to arrive.

They seem to have the same idea as Alexia, jumping onto your bed without so much of a greeting.

But, as planned, the bed collapses under them and the shock of their faces is enough for Alexia breaking your bed to be worth it. Their faces are even funnier as they head downstairs to ask for a new one for you.

Behind your back, Alexia passes you a handful of pins.

JenniHermoso10 has started a live video. Click to join!

"Forward! Forward!"

"I am going forward!"

"More forward! When I say forward, it doesn't mean shuffle! It means walk forward! You're a person not a pigeon!"

"And here we have Olympic football player Alexia Putellas and Olympic tennis player y/n Putellas, attempting to climb onto the rings," Jenni narrates from behind the camera.

"It's not going well," Misa says, as Alexia nearly throws you from your spot on her shoulders," Alexia is clearly struggling."

"I'm not struggling!" Alexia insists, yelping as you twist her hair in your hands.

"Forward!

"This is as forward as I can get!"

"That's such bullshit! Move closer!"

"I can't!"

"You can!"

"I don't think they're ever going to make it," Jenni says," It's like they can't-"

"Stop! Ale, stop! Left a bit. No! Too left. Right again. Left! Right! Left!"

"Left, right, forward, back," Alexia mutters," Make up your mind."

"Left and...got it...Wait! Don't let go!"

You haul yourself from your sister's shoulders onto the centre ring, positioning yourself perched on the sliver of the yellow ring that enters the black one.

"Alright," Alexia says," Give me a hand."

"What? No! You'll pull me off!"

"Give me your hand!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

She braces herself on the lower rings and grabs your hand, pulling herself into the centre ring before you can even shove her off.

"Oh," She says," That was pretty easy." Alexia grins at you but the smile drops from her face when she notices the pensive look you're wearing. "What is it?"

"I've just realised," You laugh in disbelief," When Mama said she wanted a picture of us and the rings. I think she meant in front of them. Not in them."

"Oh."

[pedripics]

Pedri via Residency - August 8, 2024

Pedri had a double training session today 

How is your knee doing? - “Much better. Looking forward to getting started with the team soon”

How are you after starting your workouts? - “Tired, as it is normal in preseason, but happy with the recovery”

Does it feel weird without having your hair? - “A little 😜 but it's not the first time and I had to keep the promise. My mustache didn't last that long 😝”

What are your expectations for the season? - “The maximum. At Barça there can be no others, and on an individual level I hope everything is going very well”

How is your mum? - “Veryyyy well. Thank you ❤️”

How many sessions did you do to recover? - “I've been training practically every day on vacation”

Who is your best friend in the locker room? - “I say it a lot of times, I get along well with everyone but if I have to say one, well Ferran”

Nice vacation? - “Quiet, in Tenerife”

How was training with Gavi after long time? - “Very good! I am happy to see him do better”

“Barcelona is a great city without a doubt”

How many football games did you play growing up until you were 16? - “Well, I couldn't say... one a day, or more, if they count the games on the court and with friends hehe”

Did you watch the Olympics? - “Yup… a lot”

He really wanted to see USA-Serbia in a bit 

How do you deal with hate from others? - “I try to stay away from bad comments, as well as from high praise. The best thing is to be calm and listen to the advice and comments of the people close to you”

Would you like to retire at Barça? - “Do you want me to retire already? you already know that I have been a culer since I was a little kid”

When are you returning? - “There is little left. Let's see how the next training sessions are going”

Do you recommend me to visit your familys restaurant? - “l always do... and I always will. Delicious and homemade food”

I hope to see you next year at the new Camp Nou - “Have no doubt, my friend!!”

How did your friends/family react to your haircut? - “A little bit of everything. Jokes but also people who told me it looked really good on me 🙃”

Pedri are you going to let your hair grow? (Say yes please) - “Yesss. It's not the time to go bald yet”

Do your think a lot about the climate change? - “Well, it worries me. Like all young people. It is important to think about the future of the planet and that’s why i am ambassador with Kick Out Plastic”

A lot of people give their opinion about your beard, either to let it grow, or to cut it, but what do you prefer? With or without? - “I liked seeing myself with a beard, but without it l'm very comfortable. Maybe in the future I'll let it grow again”

Best part of football? - “Enjoy doing what I like doing the most”

Do you want Quevedo to return to music? - “Quevedo is a phenomenon... and above all canarian 🇮🇨” (admin agrees)

One of his friends named his dog Pedri 😂

Do you recommend visiting the Canary Islands? - “I am obliged to do so! My land is incredible”

How many kids do you want in the future? - “Well, more than one... but it's too early for that”

Pedri do you want in the future come to Poland? - “Why not? Let's see when Lewy invites me 😁”

Are you excited for your birthday??? - “Well... there's still a lot of time left”

Do you have pets? - “No. Maybe in a few years, a dog”

How is learning English going for you??? and what other languages would you like to learn? - “Let's see if I improve my level in September”

Do you go on TikTok a lot? - “Quite a lot, yes. I laugh a lot at some videos and I also find out a lot of things out  on there”

How do you feel about the new Barça kit? - “I love it”

Prove that you’re not AI - “In the previous chat they already told me something similar. Pedri 1-0 AI”

Who can cook best in your family? - “My mother… without a doubt”

Can you cook? - “It’s better if i don’t… It’s a good thing that my mother and brother are cooks”

People confuse him and his brother sometimes

Thiago? - “We barely met, because he was on tour and I was in Barcelona… I am looking forward to meeting him”

Do you like Olmo’s hair? - “😂😂😂 That question would be for my hairdresser. I like that he came to Barça, because we get along very well and I am sure he brings a lot of things to the team. We’ve already seen it at the Euros” (personally I think Pedri should announce all new signings)

Will Barça win a sixtuple again? - “Hopefully soon… Although it’s very difficult…”

Did you celebrate Gavi’s bday with him? - “Well I congratulated him and not much more because he had a day off in his recovery”

What did your day look like? - “training in the morning, eat, rest and train in the afternoon”

What do you think of Fermin at the Olympics? - “I am following the Olympic Games because I like to watch almost all sports… Fermin is being the key and I hope he will come back with gold”

How do you go shopping? Is it difficult because of all the people? - “It is very complicated, yes. Sometimes with my parents and brother, or with my teammates… but I also shop online”

If you could choose a football legend to play with, who would you choose? - “Iniesta obviously, because he is my idol. But for a little change, for example Pele”

How did you feel to reach the Olympics final? - “It was a great joy… Although I am envious of these Games because there couldn’t be fans there in Tokyo because of the pandemic”

Hidden talents? - “Not that I know…”

Are you playing on Monday? - “No, not yet”

If you weren't a footballer, what would you probably be? - “Firefighter... or waiter in my parents' tavern. Although one day I helped them and I realized that it wasn't my thing”

He hasn’t trained under Flick yet (duh)

Movie/ series recommendation? - “I'm finishing Game of Thrones. This is nothing new, but the truth is that it is very good!”

What do you like to do in your spare time? - “Being at home, mainly” (same)

How was your childhood? “Very happy! In Tegueste, with my family and friends, like any other normal boy”

Do you ever go biking? - “No. We are not allowed to either”

What do you think of Duplantis, have you watched it? - “What he did was crazy”

Your mum is the best she is such a cutie  - “Siii”

Tomorrow will you watch the men's olympic final ??? - “Yes, of course... and if I can, the women's match for Spain too”

Would you like to be the captain in the future? - “Of course I would like to”

What do you think about Asia? - “I know that they support me a lot from there and I would like to visit  in the future... now it's not easy, because the seasons don't give a break and on vacation I prefer to rest close to home”

It's not too complicated to be famous I mean do people always have to stop you for photos? - “It's not easy, but it's not something that bothers me. I try to give photograph and sign autographs, because I remember when I was little and I asked for it”

Is your favorite food bananas? - “My favorite fruit. I love food a lot, although some of them I can't eat now because of my diet. For example, I really like sushi”

Does your brother annoy you sometimes?? - We get angry, like all brothers... But he's a very important person in my life”

Favourite sport other than football? - “Basketball or padel, for example”

Do you look forward to the next World Cup? - “Of course... Although there is still a lot of time left. Now we have to fight to win the maximum with Barça”

[hedghost]

A Comprehensive Rating of all The New Nike Kits that Literally No One Asked Me For:

starting off strong with England:

listen when i first saw this i was like hmm okay 😐, then i saw it on the players and i was like hmmm okayyyyy 💅💅

home is clean, classic - i like it. collar is a choice but i think it works, sleeves are nice, retro kits slay always - 8/10

controversial but purple as a colour in general sucks. however, i would barely call this away kit purple, the charcoal vibe is actually fucking sexy. it’s almost a grey kit, and a grey kit is almost a black kit, and i love black kits. love the pattern down the side, love the gold, my only reservation is that it looks like a training kit (specifically that ugly purple kit the lionesses had a few years ago) - 7.5/10

special shout-out to that eyesore of a goalie kit, i absolutely fucking love it

——

now Portugal is a serving us a game of two halves:

the home is… a kit. it’s nice, it’s clean, but it literally could not be less forgettable. it’s fine - 5/10

the away on the other hand - masterpiece. that pattern is actually gorgeous, colours are so cute, and it’s actually unique! love when kits have nods to culture/history- 10/10, stunning

——

United States - yea girl give us nothing!

listen the home is fine. but one word springs to mind and that word is boring. where’s the flavour? the flag collar saves it - 6/10

the away is absolutely vile i fucking hate that- 1/10

—-

France said how big can we possibly make our badge:

again home is fine. it’s nothing special, it’s clean, it’s whatever, it’s a home kit. i’m bored. however both kits suffer from the ailment of that absolute fucking monster chicken. why is it so huge - 5/10

the away is nicer. pinstripe is nothing to write home about, but at least there’s a little something something going on. again, the chicken is hard to get past - 6.5/10

—-

Canada gave us the classics

these are both nice kits. the home is proof that nike do know how to make plain kits that don’t look like they just stuck a badge on a primark t-shirt. simple done well - 8/10

again, the away is simple but effective. does look a bit like an exercise book, but that’s fine. sleek, classy, it’s a decent kit - 7/10

—-

Brazil proves once again that they know the meaning of cool:

listen, when the colour scheme of your team is yellow and green, you just have to commit to garish. this kit is an eyesore in a good way. this is not a great picture of the pattern but let me tell you it’s gorgeous. i’m not sure about this weird collar though, it looks fine on some of these other kits but idk it’s just not doing it for me here - 8/10

again, this away pattern is hurting my eyes just looking at it, but i like it a lot. makes me wanna go to the beach. brazil knows who they are, and you will know about it. nice colour, bit of fun! more fun kits please! - 7.5/10

—-

just like it’s football team, Poland’s kits are pretty forgettable:

yeah sorry poland i really don’t know what to tell you here, it’s just really fucking dull. the collar does look nice here, but other than that it’s really not saying much - 4/10

again, not much to say. this does have a bit of a cross stitch pattern which i quite like, but other than that it’s average. normally i like a centred badge but here it just looks like weird. think it’s too big. sorry poland - 5.5/10

—-

sorry Turkey, the only thing worse than boring, is being boring and ugly:

this away shirt makes polands kit look like the sistine chapel. i can’t even comment because there is absolutely nothing going on - 3/10

and yet somehow… the home kit is worse. i will never be a fan of a block stripe across the chest. the centred badge might have worked if it didn’t have a circle around it. boring and ugly - 2/10

—-

meanwhile, South Korea blew it out the fucking water!

now this is how you make a kit! take notes turkey! this home kit is literally beautiful. colour is stunning, pattern is gorgeous! 11/10 no notes

and it doesn’t stop there! black kits are stunning anyway, but this?! i adore it. so fun, so sleek. - 10/10

—-

The Netherlands just couldn’t really be arsed:

i fucking hate this. orange kits done well are beautiful, and this is neither one of those things. at least the players will be up to code if they visit a construction site. the colour is quite literally named ‘safety orange’ - 2/10

the away kit is alright. i quite like it, the patterns decent. the colours are nice. it does look a bit like a bus seat though. - 5.5/10

—-

China took the stripped back approach :

these aren’t my favourites, but they are nice. the home is classic, nothing fancy, but it’s smooth, it’s sleek, it’s smart. the sleeves are a nice touch - 6.5/10

the same goes for the away. not as nice as the red, but it’s cool. i like it. - 6/10

—-

Norway forgot which continent they’re from:

now i’m aware the home kit is unpopular, but i actually like it. idk it’s something different, it’s a smart little pattern, centred badge looks good - i’m a fan. i like when countries incorporate their flags into their shirt. it is, however, the flag of thailand. - 7/10

this is a nice away kit. it’s giving fjords, it’s giving glaciers, it’s giving norway. reminds me of the adidas wwc kits, and we all know how nice those were. - 9/10

—-

Nigeria only knows how to serve cunt!

this is nice. it’s giving me like early noughties vibes, with the font and the tick, and i’m a fan. i’ve never seen a bad green and white kit. well played nigeria, well played. - 8/10

i love black kits. i love green kits. i love patterned kits. and i love this kit. it’s a sick pattern, and it’s just gorgeous. good job - 10/10

—-

Croatia is… also here:

yeah croatia what the fuck is this? this home kit is absolutely atrocious. boring and ugly - 3/10

i honestly don’t know if the away is better or worse. just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. i don’t know, it’s alright. weird - 4/10

[fantomette22]

The Dogs in Bloodborne!

So @bobbyzombiegg you wanted some headcanons on the dogs right? Following this post. Alright I will, but first i’m gonna recap all the dogs we can see in Bloodborne!

No I'm not talking about the weird beasts. Even the ones we're not sure if they have animal or human origins, I will stay focused on dogs only.

Rabid dog (Yharnam and found in most of the locations of the game)

They seems to be cream coloured but I saw people said it could be brown. It's the dog ennemies we encounter the most often. The chimera in the Nightmare of Mensis are made with them too.

Grey Rabid dog (grey/silver version found in Yaha'rgul & chalice dungeons)

Same breed as the light coloured ones but they have darker fur (grey/silver)

Some might already know but for the ones who don't know this dog highly ressemble the Irish Wolfhound Breed

It's one of the biggest dog in the world. Typically used to hunt wolves (that's how all the wolf in Ireland disappear), deers and big animals.

The breed almost disappear in the 19th century but it was restored into the one we know today with mixing the last ones with the Great Dane, Scottish deerhound, borzoi and even Tibetan dog.

It also highly ressemble the Scottish deerhound, the too breed being very similar and link.

I personally call the ones in Bloodborne just wolfhound because there's no guarantee it's a real breed and again Bloodborne, like dark souls is not our world so I don't think Irish and England exist XD there's equivalent maybe. (And Yharnam would be closer to this universe version or Poland or Czech).

If you are attentive they aren't presented in the hunter's nightmare (see below the old hunter's hound) With the scourge of the beasts becoming worst and huge beasts appearing more frequently the hunters and citizens turn themself to bigger dogs to hunt bigger prey.

Hunting dog (Hemwick Charnel lane & chalice dungeons)

Don't ask me what breed it is I have 0 idea. Greyhound? A mixt breed? Idk. They are principally found in Hemwick too. They have been equip of weapons to hurt beast better I supposed. A hardcore version of the collar of some shepherd dog 😅 The ones left almost in completely autonomy with a herd and half collars with spike to not get hurt by wolves.

Keeper's hunting dogs

Found in the chalice dungeons and are weird mutated fire dogs. They follow their master, the keepers. I suppose they were normal dogs before.

Watchdog of the Old Lords

Idk if that was a dog before. Could be a keeper who transformed or something for all we know. But well it's literally called a "watchdog" so-

The corpses of dead dogs in the chalice dungeons

(I know it looks great but please imagined it's a dog 💀 it's the only screenshot I found)

Sometimes you can see corpses in the chalice dungeons and sometimes there's dogs ones as well. They seem rather "normal". And not really the breeds we already see.

Old hunter hound /rabid dog (Hunter's Nightmare-Yharnam/ The Old Hunters dlc)

So those are probably Dobermann. Used as guard dogs and for protections. During old hunter's era, most beasts were beast patients / human size not huge scourge beasts. So this type of dogs was ideal. With the beast growing bigger having more scourge beasts around the poor dogs become too insufficient. And that's why Yharnam adopt bigger bred like the wolfhounds.

Dobermanns are born with long falling ears and a tail. The tails was cut so they don't got hurt into fight or hunting and the ears because they often got affections. Many countries have forbidden it because with modern standard of life it donees't have any real use now. Contrary to what people think "attack dogs" are not born agressive. It's just that if they aren't trained well and develop comportement issues and agression it's going to be a bit more of a problem than a chihuahua who would have the same issues.

Fish dogs (Hunter's nightmare-Fishing hamlet/ The Old hunters dlc)

Don't ask me please. there's no idea of knowing what they were before. But their fish's head apparently ressemble a viperfish's head, also called a chauliodus, deep sea fish from the Stomiidae family. Not putting pictures here for people who are sensible, I put a link above. Their body as slimed and long (30cm), they lived between 200 and 4000m of depth (3300-13000ft). Those types of fishes (their genus) were discovered in the very early XIX/19th century.

Now my headcanons on why most of wolfhounds in Yharnam have light fur and why the one in Yahar’gul have dark colored ones.

Objectively the most possible answer is simply that the dog’s population of this two area weren’t mixted together. When you have a small portions of individual who don’t mixt with more exterior individuals they tend to end up with similar traits because of dominant & rececive genes (and if it last a LONG time, that’s how new species appears. But it take thousands if not millions of years and generations).

Well my headcanons is much simpler than that and basically for fic purposes. I just thought it would make sense that Yahar’gul hunters kept the darker ones because they need to stay discreet (they themselves have black clothes) etc. And the other would have kept the lighter ones because they are easier to see and recognize at night.

At the beginning of the introduction of the wolfhound races in Yharnam it was probably mixed individuals of different fur coats. With a bit with time, selection and breeding they would end up with most of the dogs being light light colored for the hunters/citizens and church. And Yahar’gul doing the same would ended up with the darker ones.

And bonus headcanons:

I imagined a younger Paarl possibly taking care of the first generation of wolfhound in Yharnam (they were introduced to replace the dobermanns because beasts grew bigger). And i like imagining Gehrman to had help with training and had one of his own :3 a white one (yes I draw it I should do that again) (because you see, to have survived that long and have will to live after Maria passed away and the old hunters dying one by one i imagined it would have been nice for him to have a companion for a time).

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #252

I got a lot done today, but I still don't think I'm going to be able to do as much as I had hoped.

…I didn't really get enough sleep last night. After getting ready to go to bed and all that, I decided to shower so that I wouldn't have to do it in the morning. I have maybe 6-ish hours. I woke at 9, got ready and went out the door by 9:30, and went to both therapy and physical therapy.

I had K at physical therapy today. He tried to give me exercises that are supposed to work the serratus muscles, but… they didn't work because apparently, my lats and my rotator cuff on my right side are being weird. Naturally, this meant that he had to go digging his thumbs all up in there, near the bottom of my shoulder blade, to try to get things to loosen up. For whatever reason, the area is incredibly tender, so that whole process was very painful. But it was necessary, so the only thing for it is to sit through it until it's over. I guess that particular area will need to be investigated further next week. This was at noon. It's almost 5PM, and my pinky finger and ring finger on my right hand are still kinda tingly and ouchy, and it'll probably stay like that for the next day or so, at least. Lame.

But it is what it is. I went to the bank to get a new card, since our washing machine most likely ate my old one. I guess my bank has a fancy new card printing machine, and so when I visited, I got a new card pretty much right away! Normally, you have to wait a couple weeks for it to arrive in the mail. I'm really glad that I was able to skip that whole step. I went to the grocery immediately after that.

I wasn't able to eat until I got home at around 3PM; J made burgers, and by then, I was so hungry that I kiiiinda… scarfed them down with reckless abandon. I thought I had more time between therapy and physical therapy (guess who thought physical therapy was at 12:30 again until I checked it?), but I didn't. So I kinda just powered through today's tasks on an empty stomach, not a whole lot of water, and definitely not enough sleep. I thought I'd have enough energy leftover to cook something by the time I got back, but… I don't. So I'm not gonna.

…I dropped the ball on the self-care stuff. I'm sorry about that. I know I keep asking you to take better care of yourself. I'm gonna try a little harder in the coming days. I struggle, but… I gotta take care of my soft animal. It holds my weird-ass spirit despite all its limitations; I have to try to be nicer to it…

In any case, yesterday, a delightful person from Poland watched me play Dead Cells. They seemed pretty excited about talking to me and watching my play style. Apparently, they regularly run around with 5 whole Boss Cells! That seems unfathomable to me at this time. But they gave me some excellent advice about how to allocate my stat points; up until this point, I had been prioritizing whatever gives me the greatest boost in HP, but I guess that's not really the way to go. I learned about how important it is to put my stat points into the ones that my weapons use whenever I can.

My gameplay improved significantly as a result, and I made it all the way to a new biome called The Caverns. From there, I tried to defeat The Giant, but his movements were unfamiliar to me, and so I panicked and got my ass handed to me. That's all right though; I went to the training room and fought him until he stopped kicking my ass. Next time I see him in a real run, he's gonna be in big trouble, lemme tell ya!!

Oh, that reminds me; this person added me on Instagram!! They sent me all kinds of cool videos about their own exploits from their own runs!! I gotta get on watching those!!

…I'm not sure I have it in me to do a run today, though. My brain feels kinda soupy, and J is playing Brave Fencer Musashi, and I think I'd much rather watch him do that. It's one of my favorite games, despite its problems (the controls aren't exactly the easiest…), and I'm really glad that he's getting to experience the story for himself. The townspeople in Grillin' Village are delightful with their little stories and bits of dialogue. It really is a lovable and delightful game, despite its age and not-so-hot graphics (though they were pretty rad at the time…).

Hey, Sephiroth? If someday you find yourself in my neighborhood, let's chill out and just play some video games, all right? I think you'd like them. And I think you'd be really good at them, too.

…There are so many stories from games and books and TV and movies that I really wish I could show you; maybe in them, you'd find something relatable, and then the burdens you carry might seem a bit less heavy. Will you stay safe by the end of whatever it is you're trying to do, so that someday, I can show these things to you?

I love you. I'm gonna go rest now. But I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[deep-hearts-core]

2015 - final

originally posted 5/25/20

France I know I really strongly disliked this back in the day, but I like it a little better now. Lisa is a great singer and the song is good. I guess the problem is that it isn't really a standout compared to the sheer volume of good songs this year - this one just doesn't hold up against the likes of Warrior, Love Injected, or A Million Voices. There were aspects of the staging I liked and aspects I disliked - it was good at the beginning but got weird later on, especially once those drummers came marching out. Could have been done a lot better.

United Kingdom In contrast to the French entry, whose biggest crime is really that it was uninteresting, this song is just plain bad. That set piece was genuinely the only good thing about it. It's a bad song, and this is only exacerbated by the poor use of backing vocals and an unsettling stage presence from the two leads. Alex is way too intense while Bianca is saccharine. Why did she keep pointing at him like that? SMH. The light-up costumes were, admittedly, kinda cool, and I appreciate the flapper aesthetic for what it is, but they didn't do anything for this train wreck of a song. Australia A solid debut in the contest! Guy's vocal power and control are just astounding, and the song is energetic and fun. Guy and his backup singers had a lot of presence and seemed to be really enjoying being up there. I liked the prop streetlights. While not one of my favorite songs out of the year this is pretty good and the 5th place was definitely justified. Austria Deserved better than what it got! I'm Yours is a good, mellow number that's decisively about platonic love. Dodo Muhrer has a pretty nice voice too and I think the simple staging really worked for this here. I did also like the flaming piano but I think that it felt kind of anticlimactic at that point in the song... if it had happened towards the end, maybe? But yeah this is actually one of my favorite host entries from the last few years.

Germany Like with Austria, this deserved better than nul points. I really enjoyed the staging of this, I thought it was pretty creative and captured the vibe of the song well. Amy Winehouse wannabe that she is, Ann Sophie still is a good singer and, for the most part, a good performer, even if she has no idea what to do with her hands onstage. Spain Edurne has trouble keeping in key, and keeps moving back and forth between vocal registers. The staging isn't necessarily bad but feels awfully over the top - although that costume change is legendary whether it's over the top or not. Performance troubles aside though I like Amanecer as a song. It feels really cinematic.

Italy Having difficulty formulating my thoughts about this one. I love Il Volo's voices. They sound really great together and alone, and are strong and stable throughout the whole thing. I think popera is nice as a concept, but it's not a genre I myself prefer. And I think the staging was kinda stagnant - definitely more could have been done with the background screen. So while this is good, it's not a personal favorite. My top 40

Latvia

Russia

Greece

Sweden

Portugal

Austria

Norway

Lithuania

Montenegro

Belgium

Ireland

Italy

Belarus

Australia

Georgia

Poland

Switzerland

Estonia

Germany

Czechia

Romania

Serbia

Denmark

Hungary

Armenia

Iceland

North Macedonia

Slovenia

Azerbaijan

Moldova

Netherlands

Malta

Spain

France

Israel

Albania

San Marino

Finland

Cyprus

United Kingdom

Austria and Poland sure were higher than I expected... hmm. Other than that this is more or less what I expected the sorter to spit out at me. This was really a toss-up between my top three, though - the last time I ranked 2015, my winner was Greece and I think I had Russia in my top 5.

Voting/intervals Y'all, they took forever to get the show started. Half of this opening sequence could have been cut or used in the interval. The "building bridges" video set to What If was cute though. I also really liked the compilation of winning moments. Austria didn't do the greatest job at hosting but they interacted a lot with the history of the contest in the interval acts and I really enjoyed that - this and the voting mishaps compilation were I think my favorite intervals of the year. Voting thoughts: 1. wow, can't believe Cyprus only got 10 points from Greece! And Greece only got 8 from Cyprus! 2. I can't with the Azeri guy saying "I'm a little bit surprised, but anyway..." at most of the Azeri results. 3. God, I feel so bad for Polina. The fact that it got bad enough that Alice felt the need to reprimand the audience... hoo. 4. Mans is so funny in the green room! He looks genuinely so surprised whenever he gets a douze, and honestly he is just vibing, he doesn't seem that nervous and is really just enjoying being there. Guy and Mans also seem to have a cute friendship, after Sweden gave douze to Australia Guy got up and gave, like, finger guns to Mans. 5. Ah, this year was "12 points from Russia go to Russia"! Iconic voting moment.

Thoughts after watching One thing that's been nagging at me during this rewatch is accessibility? How did Monika get onto the stage during the parade of flags if the only visible way up was stairs? Did the Polish delegation take a secret detour? I assume there is a separate, unseen way for artists to get from the green room to the stage and back again, but Monika is explicitly shown on the route in the middle so I really wonder about that. An analysis of disability in Eurovision might be really interesting - although I'm not the right person to write it. Yknow... I watch the show with German commentary, and even though Germany got zero points, the commentator never made it about bloc voting. All he said was that there were just too many good songs - from all over Europe. The most he said about Germany's lack of points really was, when Ireland voted, "I need to go have a word with the Irish commentary". I feel that's an example the rest of Western Europe ought to follow. I have mixed feelings on the Austrian hosting. I think the hosts were really awkward a lot of the time, especially Arabella, and some of the interval acts were either boring or cringeworthy. On the other hand, though, this is one of my favorite stage designs of the contests I've watched. All in all this was really a quality year full of amazing songs, never mind how the hosting was. I really love this year - the contestants and the music both were just awesome. And, as I've said before, I think Mans is a great winner. I like his song, but also... he really embodies what Eurovision is, theoretically, all about! He's just really happy to be there, and he's happy to participate when called upon, whether that's doing commentary, hosting, or participating in skits such as in 2017 or 2019. He really cares about the contest and, in that sense, he's one of my favorite winners as a person.

[merulast]

It's all about the routing baby!

(Weird Al - It's all about the pentiums -- Great song ^^)

When I first started to plan this "road trip" I had various options and decided to go the straight way be following the E40 (european lane 40) to almost the borders and China. Of course by then I had no Idea that this would never be possible later on. Why? Lets have a short dive:

Source: Wikipedia E40

We don't need to talk about the fact that this road is crossing the Ukraine. The whole situation is simply terrible.

Had you ever wonder why tools like google maps route planer and others don't offer routes crossing the Chinese border? It's simple - You are not allowed to cross it by car. Not even the international driver license is valid in china. Except for some special areas. And except for you to hire some 'people' that make it 'possible'. The Overland travelers do this aaalot this days but be warned: That's NOT official! You will be stuck to the 'guides' and this is NOT legal. It is simply not. For you driving there will be illegal. The police just let you pass for 'reasons'.

You might get an full chinese driving license and import and re-register your vehincle on the borders. Anyway.

So Obviously this whole route is out of scope by now. Let's come to the public transport routes. If you want to plan routes, have a look at www.rome2rio.com - More on them later.

(yes, this picture again)

With the Ukraine as something you don't want to cross there is no alternative but to avoid it. But besides of war there is also an second thing that you would like to avoid. Visas. They may come in very difficult to get. Thats why, for example, I decided to also avoid Belarus.

The red Line

Germany -> Poland -> Lietuva -> Latvija -> Estonia -> Russia -> Kazakhstan

With avoiding of Belarus there is no big hassle on the first parts of this route. All EU Members share the same Visa rules, mostly the same money and the same ATM zone. So if you have a western credit or debit cards you wont even notice any issues at all. The only negative point is, that it's expensive to travel and stay there. At least compared to the other route.

With the Russian border this will change. Now you need a Visa. You can most likely get an E-Visa that is valid for 2 weeks and cost 50€ if you fill out the form by yourself. But because of certain 'things' you might get in trouble obtaining money. As least in most parts of the EU its not possible to obtain the Russian currency. Booking is not listing Russian Hotels anymore. And you never know if any credit card will still work in the urban areas. Henche. I would not even expect anyone to take electronic cash on the countryside anyway. With other words. This is, political stuff aside, a pretty red Flag.

Im not sure about Kazakhstan at the Moment. I also was not able to obtain Tenge anywhere in central europe at the moment. But I think that there will be no issue with visa and mastercards....

The blue Line

The original plan was to drive up to the Black Sea just by Flixbus. For me no Visa or money-changing issues ha been visible. You can relay on the Credit Card system and most of the time even on the european debit card systems.

I for myself decided to travel by

Germany -> Bavaria -> Austria -> Hungaria -> Romania -> Bulgaria -> Georgia

I wanted to also have a stop on Serbia .. But Flixbus had changed its traveling times to be as much overnight as possible. And this brings us to another thing: Never Travel more than 8 hours a day! We will spend an entire Month on transports. DO NOT exhaust yourself too much! Thats why I will take an sleeper train from Budapest to Bukarest.

Another negative point comes into count if we speak about the black Sea. I would love to cross it by ferry! More space to walk, to sleep and to watch dolphins. How could you not love to travel by Ship? But be aware: Black Sea Ferry Companys are .. special.

I would not need any Visas for the entire blue route. Thats a big plus, of course.

Anyway!

This post already had been MUCH longer then planed. Time to End it. The blue route it is. Next time we talk about preparing stuff that need to be done in before-hand.

Bye!

[theliterateape]

I, Substitute

by Don Hall

While temporarily hanging my hat in Kansas and helping my mom take care of my dad, I needed some kind of impetus to get me out of their house and perhaps make a few bucks to boot. I have an ancient teaching degree from back when they etched the degrees on slate so I thought “Hey! Let’s squeeze a bit more out of that now useless college expense and substitute teach here!”

Substitute teaching is a weird beast of a gig. You dress appropriately (in accordance to the standards of practice of the district), bring a water bottle, load up a few snacks, a laptop and your official badge. The badge serves as a way to alert other staff that you are legit and not necessarily a child predator roaming the halls and as a magnetic swipe card for either the outside doors, the sign in process, or both.

The office assigns you a room or series of rooms. You wander around the building for about ten minutes trying to find the first room, maybe ask another staff member for directions with some sort of small talk version of “I’m a fucking idiot but I’m all you got!” You find your room and survey where you can hang your jacket, put your water bottle, look for the lesson plans for the day, and marvel in horror at the role sheet filled with unpronounceable names that you will surely mangle at the emotional peril of the underdeveloped, doughy recipients of your stumbling inability to read names from Poland to Mexico to Dubai.

The bar for performance is remarkably low. The job description should read “Must be able to hand out papers, sit bored out of your skull, make sure the lunatics don’t take over the asylum with no authority, no hope for respect from the inmates, and no real idea if they are lying to you when they tell you that their regular class work involves smartphones and flaming hot covered salt lick snacks.”

I immediately recognize that, as opposed to the hardened criminal class of Chicago’s freshman students, these Kansas kids are more dully laconic and don’t even bother to take a beat to notice me or make eye contact. No intent to rebel, these folks are like people sitting on the train hoping you don’t sit down next to them and if they pretend to be on the phone you won’t try to speak. Imagine a blind date with thirty women who see you at the door and knew instantly this was not the date they hoped for.

I’m a sucker for a challenge so I wade in. The class for this maiden voyage is a Film Appreciation class (the drama teacher has quit the job a few weeks prior because of a poorly executed active shooter situation that left him to restart therapy and ultimately decide this was not working for him) so I leap right in with questions about what movies they like. Christ, I love movies and even have a movie podcast so I’m certain I can engage this room of stinky zombies.

Kung Fu Panda.

Among the students willing to hold their cement-filled heads above neckline, it seems the only movie any of them can remember seeing is Kung Fu-fucking-Panda.

We talk about why they like it, what other movies they might say is in the same genre, and then the eureka moment. An overly tall white kid with long, unkempt hair and glasses looks up and asks “What do you think of A Clockwork Orange?”

“The 1971 film based on the Anthony Burgess novel? Droogies? Alec and ‘Singing in the Rain’?”

I nail that one. We are off. He and I start a mini-discussion of the themes of the film and how the experiment of forcing a kid to watch the horrors of the world on repeat to pacify him has been effectively performed on his contemporaries as they are flooded with images on their smartphones twenty-four hours a day and was the experiment from the film successful? The groupmind of the numb, Cheeto-infused monkeys notices one of their own being taken seriously by the monster adult and they start to wake up.

“Did you like Titanic?” “Which is better—Get Out or Nope?” “Have you seen Akira?”

The ninety-minute class flies by. By the time the bell rings, half the kids are still asking me questions and act almost as if they are fully functioning humans. Then I’m off to Room A313. The Special Education class. Six hours of two and three kids at a time with worksheets and dicking around and boredom. The wifi in the school is shit due to a billion smartphones sucking the juice for Tik Tok so I can barely access even Apple News. I’m exhausted by the end of the day but not the good kind of worn out. The exhaustion of the static.

The secretary in the office asks me if I can come back the next day and the day after that. This is the substitute teacher sweet spot. It isn’t difficult to get work but the perks of being known by the staff and students come with repeat visits. I’m in.

The next day, the secretary puts me in the drama room for the full day. She tells me the word is out, that the kids in the film class had spread the word that I was cool and interesting (an anomaly in the ranks of substitute teachers).

The first group is the Advanced Rep gang. These are the bona fide theater geeks. They have a project that stinks of busy work (pick a monologue and analyze it for theme and structure). No performance of the monologue. No grade because they don’t have a real teacher. So we talk about writing their own monologues. Where to find the material. War stories from my days in Chicago theater. The time flies by.

The second class is StageCraft. Also students interested in the work. More busy work so instead, I give them stagecraft challenges I encountered in the many years in Chicago. Actual challenges we encountered and let them work in groups to solve the issues. They were way into it.

Third class is Intro to Theater. Definitely not theater geeks. Freshman shoved into a class that was like English but wasn’t. We talk about stories and storytelling and then I give them half the time to fuck around.

Lunch Duty. Then another Intro to Theater group. Then Hall Monitoring. Then home. I’m so tired from being actually engaged for most of the day I grab a beer and practically pass out on the couch. This is the good kind of pooped. The type of exhaustion that comes at the end of a productive feeling. I’m finding my stride.

The third day, I’m on my game. All the things I remembered from being a teacher in Chicago, the decade when I had my own classroom and own rules, came back in force. I discard the work sheets and we have active discussions about theater, art, music, writing and the perils involved in doing anything truly creative in a society that rewards mediocrity and conformism over originality. In every class at least one student asks me if I’ll be their permanent drama teacher. I’m new and I’m different. I’m not from ‘round these parts and the New Age Hippie teacher I was in the 1990’s fascinates these idiots. I have a ball. After being lied to and discarded by my soulmate I start to regain the idea that I am worth something, that I do bring some value to the world.

The thing I remind myself is that I'm not looking to get back into teaching children again. I did it in the 90's, was damn good at it, wrote a book about it, and now have other things to do. That said, being a good substitute teacher is sort of like being a really good pick up basketball player in a back lot court. No one expects you to make the shots but you can and do. Fun. Innocuous. Temporary.

This week I'll swing out to a few different high schools and see what Wichita looks like from different angles. Funny, though. The movies made about teachers are legendary. As far as I know there are only a handful about substitute teachers and they aren't heartwarming, inspirational fare.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I enjoyed reading your posts about Napoleon’s death and it’s quite timely given its the 200th anniversary of his death this year in May. I was wondering, because you know a lot about military history (your served right? That’s cool to fly combat helicopters) and you live in France but aren’t French, what your take was on Napoleon and how do the French view him? Do they hail him as a hero or do they like others see him like a Hitler or a Stalin? Do you see him as a hero or a villain of history?

5 May 1821 was a memorable date because Napoleon, one of the most iconic figures in world history, died while in bitter exile on a remote island in the South Atlantic Ocean. Napoleon Bonaparte, as you know rose from obscure soldier to a kind of new Caesar, and yet he remains a uniquely controversial figure to this day especially in France. You raise interesting questions about Napoleon and his legacy. If I may reframe your questions in another way. Should we think of him as a flawed but essentially heroic visionary who changed Europe for the better? Or was he simply a military dictator, whose cult of personality and lust for power set a template for the likes of Hitler? 

However one chooses to answer this question can we just - to get this out of the way - simply and definitively say that Napoleon was not Hitler. Not even close. No offence intended to you but this is just dumb ahistorical thinking and it’s a lazy lie. This comparison was made by some in the horrid aftermath of the Second World War but only held little currency for only a short time thereafter. Obviously that view didn’t exist before Hitler in the 19th Century and these days I don’t know any serious historian who takes that comparison seriously.

I confess I don’t have a definitive answer if he was a hero or a villain one way or the other because Napoleon has really left a very complicated legacy. It really depends on where you’re coming from.

As a staunch Brit I do take pride in Britain’s victorious war against Napoleonic France - and in a good natured way rubbing it in the noses of French friends at every opportunity I get because it’s in our cultural DNA and it’s bloody good fun (why else would we make Waterloo train station the London terminus of the Eurostar international rail service from its opening in 1994? Or why hang a huge gilded portrait of the Duke of Wellington as the first thing that greets any visitor to the residence of the British ambassador at the British Embassy?). On a personal level I take special pride in knowing my family ancestors did their bit on the battlefield to fight against Napoleon during those tumultuous times. However, as an ex-combat veteran who studied Napoleonic warfare with fan girl enthusiasm, I have huge respect for Napoleon as a brilliant military commander. And to makes things more weird, as a Francophile resident of who loves living and working in France (and my partner is French) I have a grudging but growing regard for Napoleon’s political and cultural legacy, especially when I consider the current dross of political mediocrity on both the political left and the right. So for me it’s a complicated issue how I feel about Napoleon, the man, the soldier, and the political leader.

If it’s not so straightforward for me to answer the for/against Napoleon question then it It’s especially true for the French, who even after 200 years, still have fiercely divided opinions about Napoleon and his legacy - but intriguingly, not always in clear cut ways.

I only have to think about my French neighbours in my apartment building to see how divisive Napoleon the man and his legacy is. Over the past year or so of the Covid lockdown we’ve all gotten to know each other better and we help each other. Over the Covid year we’ve gathered in the inner courtyard for a buffet and just lifted each other spirits up.

One of my neighbours, a crusty old ex-general in the army who has an enviable collection of military history books that I steal, liberate, borrow, often discuss military figures in history like Napoleon over our regular games of chess and a glass of wine. He is from very old aristocracy of the ancien regime and whose family suffered at the hands of ‘madame guillotine’ during the French Revolution. They lost everything. He has mixed emotions about Napoleon himself as an old fashioned monarchist. As a military man he naturally admires the man and the military genius but he despises the secularisation that the French Revolution ushered in as well as the rise of the haute bourgeois as middle managers and bureaucrats by the displacement of the aristocracy.

Another retired widowed neighbour I am close to, and with whom I cook with often and discuss art, is an active arts patron and ex-art gallery owner from a very wealthy family that came from the new Napoleonic aristocracy - ie the aristocracy of the Napoleonic era that Napoleon put in place - but she is dismissive of such titles and baubles. She’s a staunch Republican but is happy to concede she is grateful for Napoleon in bringing order out of chaos. She recognises her own ambivalence when she says she dislikes him for reintroducing slavery in the French colonies but also praises him for firmly supporting Paris’s famed Comédie-Française of which she was a past patron.

Another French neighbour, a senior civil servant in the Elysée, is quite dismissive of Napoleon as a war monger but is grudgingly grateful for civil institutions and schools that Napoleon established and which remain in place today.

My other neighbours - whether they be French families or foreign expats like myself - have similarly divisive and complicated attitudes towards Napoleon.

In 2010 an opinion poll in France asked who was the most important man in French history. Napoleon came second, behind General Charles de Gaulle, who led France from exile during the German occupation in World War II and served as a postwar president.

The split in French opinion is closely mirrored in political circles. The divide is generally down political party lines. On the left, there's the 'black legend' of Bonaparte as an ogre. On the right, there is the 'golden legend' of a strong leader who created durable institutions.

Jacques-Olivier Boudon, a history professor at Paris-Sorbonne University and president of the Napoléon Institute, once explained at a talk I attended that French public opinion has always remained deeply divided over Napoleon, with, on the one hand, those who admire the great man, the conqueror, the military leader and, on the other, those who see him as a bloodthirsty tyrant, the gravedigger of the revolution. Politicians in France, Boudon observed, rarely refer to Napoleon for fear of being accused of authoritarian temptations, or not being good Republicans.

On the left-wing of French politics, former prime minister Lionel Jospin penned a controversial best selling book entitled “the Napoleonic Evil” in which he accused the emperor of “perverting the ideas of the Revolution” and imposing “a form of extreme domination”, “despotism” and “a police state” on the French people. He wrote Napoleon was "an obvious failure" - bad for France and the rest of Europe. When he was booted out into final exile, France was isolated, beaten, occupied, dominated, hated and smaller than before. What's more, Napoleon smothered the forces of emancipation awakened by the French and American revolutions and enabled the survival and restoration of monarchies. Some of the legacies with which Napoleon is credited, including the Civil Code, the comprehensive legal system replacing a hodgepodge of feudal laws, were proposed during the revolution, Jospin argued, though he acknowledges that Napoleon actually delivered them, but up to a point, "He guaranteed some principles of the revolution and, at the same time, changed its course, finished it and betrayed it," For instance, Napoleon reintroduced slavery in French colonies, revived a system that allowed the rich to dodge conscription in the military and did nothing to advance gender equality.

At the other end of the spectrum have been former right-wing prime minister Dominique de Villepin, an aristocrat who was once fancied as a future President, a passionate collector of Napoleonic memorabilia, and author of several works on the subject. As a Napoleonic enthusiast he tells a different story. Napoleon was a saviour of France. If there had been no Napoleon, the Republic would not have survived. Advocates like de Villepin point to Napoleon’s undoubted achievements: the Civil Code, the Council of State, the Bank of France, the National Audit office, a centralised and coherent administrative system, lycées, universities, centres of advanced learning known as école normale, chambers of commerce, the metric system, and an honours system based on merit (which France has to this day). He restored the Catholic faith as the state faith but allowed for the freedom of religion for other faiths including Protestantism and Judaism. These were ambitions unachieved during the chaos of the revolution. As it is, these Napoleonic institutions continue to function and underpin French society. Indeed, many were copied in countries conquered by Napoleon, such as Italy, Germany and Poland, and laid the foundations for the modern state.

Back in 2014, French politicians and institutions in particular were nervous in marking the 200th anniversary of Napoleon's exile. My neighbours and other French friends remember that the commemorations centred around the Chateau de Fontainebleau, the traditional home of the kings of France and was the scene where Napoleon said farewell to the Old Guard in the "White Horse Courtyard" (la cour du Cheval Blanc) at the Palace of Fontainebleau. (The courtyard has since been renamed the "Courtyard of Goodbyes".) By all accounts the occasion was very moving. The 1814 Treaty of Fontainebleau stripped Napoleon of his powers (but not his title as Emperor of the French) and sent him into exile on Elba. The cost of the Fontainebleau "farewell" and scores of related events over those three weekends was shouldered not by the central government in Paris but by the local château, a historic monument and UNESCO World Heritage site, and the town of Fontainebleau.

While the 200th anniversary of the French Revolution that toppled the monarchy and delivered thousands to death by guillotine was officially celebrated in 1989, Napoleonic anniversaries are neither officially marked nor celebrated. For example, over a decade ago, the president and prime minister - at the time, Jacques Chirac and Dominque de Villepin - boycotted a ceremony marking the 200th anniversary of the battle of Austerlitz, Napoleon's greatest military victory. Both men were known admirers of Napoleon and yet political calculation and optics (as media spin doctors say) stopped them from fully honouring Napoleon’s crowning military glory.

Optics is everything. The division of opinion in France is perhaps best reflected in the fact that, in a city not shy of naming squares and streets after historical figures, there is not a single “Boulevard Napoleon” or “Place Napoleon” in Paris. On the streets of Paris, there are just two statues of Napoleon. One stands beneath the clock tower at Les Invalides (a military hospital), the other atop a column in the Place Vendôme. Napoleon's red marble tomb, in a crypt under the Invalides dome, is magnificent, perhaps because his remains were interred there during France's Second Empire, when his nephew, Napoleon III, was on the throne.

There are no squares, nor places, nor boulevards named for Napoleon but as far as I know there is one narrow street, the rue Bonaparte, running from the Luxembourg Gardens to the River Seine in the old Latin Quarter. And, that, too, is thanks to Napoleon III. For many, and I include myself, it’s a poor return by the city to the man who commissioned some of its most famous monuments, including the Arc de Triomphe and the Pont des Arts over the River Seine.

It's almost as if Napoleon Bonaparte is not part of the national story.

How Napoleon fits into that national story is something historians, French and non-French, have been grappling with ever since Napoleon died. The plain fact is Napoleon divides historians, what precisely he represents is deeply ambiguous and his political character is the subject of heated controversy. It’s hard for historians to sift through archival documents to make informed judgements and still struggle to separate the man from the myth.

One proof of this myth is in his immortality. After Hitler’s death, there was mostly an embarrassed silence; after Stalin’s, little but denunciation. But when Napoleon died on St Helena in 1821, much of Europe and the Americas could not help thinking of itself as a post-Napoleonic generation. His presence haunts the pages of Stendhal and Alfred de Vigny. In a striking and prescient phrase, Chateaubriand prophesied the “despotism of his memory”, a despotism of the fantastical that in many ways made Romanticism possible and that continues to this day.

The raw material for the future Napoleon myth was provided by one of his St Helena confidants, the Comte de las Cases, whose account of conversations with the great man came out shortly after his death and ran in repeated editions throughout the century. De las Cases somehow metamorphosed the erstwhile dictator into a herald of liberty, the emperor into a slayer of dynasties rather than the founder of his own. To the “great man” school of history Napoleon was grist to their mill, and his meteoric rise redefined the meaning of heroism in the modern world.

The Marxists, for all their dislike of great men, grappled endlessly with the meaning of the 18th Brumaire; indeed one of France’s most eminent Marxist historians, George Lefebvre, wrote what arguably remains the finest of all biographies of him.

It was on this already vast Napoleon literature, a rich terrain for the scholar of ideas, that the great Dutch historian Pieter Geyl was lecturing in 1940 when he was arrested and sent to Buchenwald. There he composed what became one of the classics of historiography, a seminal book entitled Napoleon: For and Against, which charted how generations of intellectuals had happily served up one Napoleon after another. Like those poor souls who crowded the lunatic asylums of mid-19th century France convinced that they were Napoleon, generations of historians and novelists simply could not get him out of their head.

The debate runs on today no less intensely than in the past. Post-Second World War Marxists would argue that he was not, in fact, revolutionary at all. Eric Hobsbawm, a notable British Marxist historian, argued that ‘Most-perhaps all- of his ideas were anticipated by the Revolution’ and that Napoleon’s sole legacy was to twist the ideals of the French Revolution, and make them ‘more conservative, hierarchical and authoritarian’.

This contrasts deeply with the view William Doyle holds of Napoleon. Doyle described Bonaparte as ‘the Revolution incarnate’ and saw Bonaparte’s humbling of Europe’s other powers, the ‘Ancien Regimes’, as a necessary precondition for the birth of the modern world. Whatever one thinks of Napoleon’s character, his sharp intellect is difficult to deny. Even Paul Schroeder, one of Napoleon’s most scathing critics, who condemned his conduct of foreign policy as a ‘criminal enterprise’ never denied Napoleon’s intellect. Schroder concluded that Bonaparte ‘had an extraordinary capacity for planning, decision making, memory, work, mastery of detail and leadership’.  The question of whether Napoleon used his genius for the betterment or the detriment of the world, is the heart of the debate which surrounds him.

France's foremost Napoleonic scholar, Jean Tulard, put forward the thesis that Bonaparte was the architect of modern France. "And I would say also pâtissier [a cake and pastry maker] because of the administrative millefeuille that we inherited." Oddly enough, in North America the multilayered mille-feuille cake is called ‘a napoleon.’ Tulard’s works are essential reading of how French historians have come to tackle the question of Napoleon’s legacy. He takes the view that if Napoleon had not crushed a Royalist rebellion and seized power in 1799, the French monarchy and feudalism would have returned, Tulard has written. "Like Cincinnatus in ancient Rome, Napoleon wanted a dictatorship of public salvation. He gets all the power, and, when the project is finished, he returns to his plough." In the event, the old order was never restored in France. When Louis XVIII became emperor in 1814, he served as a constitutional monarch.

In England, until recently the views on Napoleon have traditionally less charitable and more cynical. Professor Christopher Clark, the notable Cambridge University European historian, has written. "Napoleon was not a French patriot - he was first a Corsican and later an imperial figure, a journey in which he bypassed any deep affiliation with the French nation," Clark believed Napoleon’s relationship with the French Revolution is deeply ambivalent.

Did he stabilise the revolutionary state or shut it down mercilessly? Clark believes Napoleon seems to have done both. Napoleon rejected democracy, he suffocated the representative dimension of politics, and he created a culture of courtly display. A month before crowning himself emperor, Napoleon sought approval for establishing an empire from the French in a plebiscite; 3,572,329 voted in favour, 2,567 against. If that landslide resembles an election in North Korea, well, this was no secret ballot. Each ‘yes’ or ‘no’ was recorded, along with the name and address of the voter. Evidently, an overwhelming majority knew which side their baguette was buttered on.

His extravagant coronation in Notre Dame in December 1804 cost 8.5 million francs (€6.5 million or $8.5 million in today's money). He made his brothers, sisters and stepchildren kings, queens, princes and princesses and created a Napoleonic aristocracy numbering 3,500. By any measure, it was a bizarre progression for someone often described as ‘a child of the Revolution.’ By crowning himself emperor, the genuine European kings who surrounded him were not convinced. Always a warrior first, he tried to represent himself as a Caesar, and he wears a Roman toga on the bas-reliefs in his tomb. His coronation crown, a laurel wreath made of gold, sent the same message. His icon, the eagle, was also borrowed from Rome. But Caesar's legitimacy depended on military victories. Ultimately, Napoleon suffered too many defeats.

These days Napoleon the man and his times remain very much in fashion and we are living through something of a new golden age of Napoleonic literature. Those historians who over the past decade or so have had fun denouncing him as the first totalitarian dictator seem to have it all wrong: no angel, to be sure, he ended up doing far more at far less cost than any modern despot. In his widely praised 2014 biography, Napoleon the Great, Andrew Roberts writes: “The ideas that underpin our modern world - meritocracy, equality before the law, property rights, religious toleration, modern secular education, sound finances, and so on - were championed, consolidated, codified and geographically extended by Napoleon. To them he added a rational and efficient local administration, an end to rural banditry, the encouragement of science and the arts, the abolition of feudalism and the greatest codification of laws since the fall of the Roman empire.”

Roberts partly bases his historical judgement on newly released historical documents about Napoleon that were only available in the past decade and has proved to be a boon for all Napoleonic scholars. Newly released 33,000 letters Napoleon wrote that still survive are now used extensively to illustrate the astonishing capacity that Napoleon had for compartmentalising his mind - he laid down the rules for a girls’ boarding school on the eve of the battle of Borodino, for example, and the regulations for Paris’s Comédie-Française while camped in the Kremlin. They also show Napoleon’s extraordinary capacity for micromanaging his empire: he would write to the prefect of Genoa telling him not to allow his mistress into his box at the theatre, and to a corporal of the 13th Line regiment warning him not to drink so much.

For me to have my own perspective on Napoleon is tough. The problem is that nothing with Napoleon is simple, and almost every aspect of his personality is a maddening paradox. He was a military genius who led disastrous campaigns. He was a liberal progressive who reinstated slavery in the French colonies. And take the French Revolution, which came just before Napoleon’s rise to power, his relationship with the French Revolution is deeply ambivalent. Did he stabilise it or shut it down? I agree with those British and French historians who now believe Napoleon seems to have done both.

On the one hand, Napoleon did bring order to a nation that had been drenched in blood in the years after the Revolution. The French people had endured the crackdown known as the 'Reign of Terror', which saw so many marched to the guillotine, as well as political instability, corruption, riots and general violence. Napoleon’s iron will managed to calm the chaos. But he also rubbished some of the core principles of the Revolution. A nation which had boldly brought down the monarchy had to watch as Napoleon crowned himself Emperor, with more power and pageantry than Louis XVI ever had. He also installed his relatives as royals across Europe, creating a new aristocracy. In the words of French politician and author Lionel Jospin, 'He guaranteed some principles of the Revolution and at the same time, changed its course, finished it and betrayed it.'

He also had a feared henchman in the form of Joseph Fouché, who ran a secret police network which instilled dread in the population. Napoleon’s spies were everywhere, stifling political opposition. Dozens of newspapers were suppressed or shut down. Books had to be submitted for approval to the Commission of Revision, which sounds like something straight out of George Orwell. Some would argue Hitler and Stalin followed this playbook perfectly. But here come the contradictions. Napoleon also championed education for all, founding a network of schools. He championed the rights of the Jews. In the territories conquered by Napoleon, laws which kept Jews cooped up in ghettos were abolished. 'I will never accept any proposals that will obligate the Jewish people to leave France,' he once said, 'because to me the Jews are the same as any other citizen in our country.'

He also, crucially, developed the Napoleonic Code, a set of laws which replaced the messy, outdated feudal laws that had been used before. The Napoleonic Code clearly laid out civil laws and due processes, establishing a society based on merit and hard work, rather than privilege. It was rolled out far beyond France, and indisputably helped to modernise Europe. While it certainly had its flaws – women were ignored by its reforms, and were essentially regarded as the property of men – the Napoleonic Code is often brandished as the key evidence for Napoleon’s progressive credentials. In the words of historian Andrew Roberts, author of Napoleon the Great, 'the ideas that underpin our modern world… were championed by Napoleon'.

What about Napoleon’s battlefield exploits? If anything earns comparisons with Hitler, it’s Bonaparte’s apparent appetite for conquest. His forces tore down republics across Europe, and plundered works of art, much like the Nazis would later do. A rampant imperialist, Napoleon gleefully grabbed some of the greatest masterpieces of the Renaissance, and allegedly boasted, 'the whole of Rome is in Paris.'

Napoleon has long enjoyed a stellar reputation as a field commander – his capacities as a military strategist, his ability to read a battle, the painstaking detail with which he made sure that he cold muster a larger force than his adversary or took maximum advantage of the lie of the land – these are stuff of the military legend that has built up around him. It is not without its critics, of course, especially among those who have worked intensively on the later imperial campaigns, in the Peninsula, in Russia, or in the final days of the Empire at Waterloo.

Doubts about his judgment, and allegations of rashness, have been raised in the context of some of his victories, too, most notably, perhaps, at Marengo. But overall his reputation remains largely intact, and his military campaigns have been taught in the curricula of military academies from Saint-Cyr to Sandhurst, alongside such great tacticians as Alexander the Great and Hannibal.

Historians may query his own immodest opinion that his presence on the battlefield was worth an extra forty thousand men to his cause, but it is clear that when he was not present (as he was not for most of the campaign in Spain) the French were wont to struggle. Napoleon understood the value of speed and surprise, but also of structures and loyalties. He reformed the army by introducing the corps system, and he understood military aspirations, rewarding his men with medals and honours; all of which helped ensure that he commanded exceptional levels of personal loyalty from his troops.

Yet, I do find it hard to side with the more staunch defenders of Napoleon who say his reputation as a war monger is to some extent due to British propaganda at the time. They will point out that the Napoleonic Wars, far from being Napoleon’s fault, were just a continuation of previous conflicts that arose thanks to the French Revolution. Napoleon, according to this analysis, inherited a messy situation, and his only real crime was to be very good at defeating enemies on the battlefield. I think that is really pushing things too far. I mean deciding to invade Spain and then Russia were his decisions to invade and conquer.

He was, by any measure, a genius of war. Even his nemesis the Duke of Wellington, when asked who the greatest general of his time was, replied: 'In this age, in past ages, in any age, Napoleon.'

I will qualify all this and agree that Napoleon’s Russian campaign has been rightly held up as a fatal folly which killed so many of his men, but this blunder – epic as it was – should not be compared to Hitler’s wars of evil aggression. Most historians will agree that comparing the two men is horribly flattering to Hitler - a man fuelled by visceral, genocidal hate - and demeaning to Napoleon, who was a product of Enlightenment thinking and left a legacy that in many ways improved Europe.

Napoleon was, of course, no libertarian, and no pluralist. He would tolerate no opposition to his rule, and though it was politicians and civilians who imposed his reforms, the army was never far behind. But comparisons with twentieth-century dictators are well wide of the mark. While he insisted on obedience from those he administered, his ideology was based not on division or hatred, but on administrative efficiency and submission to the law. And the state he believed in remained stubbornly secular.

In Catholic southern Europe, of course, that was not an approach with which it was easy to acquiesce; and disorder, insurgency and partisan attacks can all be counted among the results. But these were principles on which the Emperor would not and could not give ground. If he had beliefs they were not religious or spiritual beliefs, but the secular creed of a man who never forgot that he owed both his military career and his meteoric political rise to the French Revolution, and who never quite abandoned, amidst the monarchical symbolism and the court pomp of the Empire, the republican dreams of his youth. When he claimed, somewhat ambiguously, after the coup of 18 Brumaire that `the Revolution was over’, he almost certainly meant that the principles of 1789 had at last been consummated, and that the continuous cycle of violence of the 1790s could therefore come to an end.

When the Empire was declared in 1804, the wording, again, might seem curious, the French being informed that the `Republic would henceforth be ruled by an Emperor’. Napoleon might be a dictator, but a part at least of him remained a son of the Enlightenment.

The arguments over Napoleon’s status will continue - and that in itself is a testament to the power of one of the most complex figures ever to straddle the world’s stage.

Will the fascination with Napoleon continue for another 200 years?

In France, at least, enthusiasm looks set to diminish. Napoleon and his exploits are scarcely mentioned in French schools anymore. Stéphane Guégan, curator of the Musée d'Orsay in Paris, which, among other First Empire artworks, houses a plaster model of Napoleon dressed as a Roman emperor astride a horse, has described France's fascination with him as ‘a national illness.’ He believes that the people who met him were fascinated by his charm. And today, even the most hostile to Napoleon also face this charm. So there is a difficulty to apprehend the duality of this character. As he wrote, “He was born from the revolution, he extended and finished it, and after 1804 he turns into a despot, a dictator.”

In France, Guégan aptly observes, there is a kind of nostalgia, not for dictatorship but for strong leaders. "Our age is suffering a lack of imagination and political utopia,"

Here I think Guégan is onto something. Napoleon’s stock has always risen or fallen according to the vicissitudes of world events and fortunes of France itself.

In the past, history was the study of great men and women. Today the focus of teaching is on trends, issues and movements. France in 1800 is no longer about Louis XVI and Napoleon Bonaparte. It's about the industrial revolution. Man does not make history. History makes men. Or does it? The study of history makes a mug out of those with such simple ideological driven conceits.

For two hundred years on, the French still cannot agree on whether Napoleon was a hero or a villain as he has swung like a pendulum according to the gravitational pull of historical events and forces.

The question I keep asking of myself and also to French friends with whom I discuss such things is what kind of Napoleon does our generation need?

Thanks for your question.

[wearevillaneve]

Killing Eve’s Endgame:  A Murder or a Mercy Killing?

So now it’s official.  Killing Eve’s next season will be it’s last season.  I don’t know whether to be upset or relived.  If I were to say I was surprised, I'd be lying and if I were to say I am disappointed, that would be another lie.    I was kind of expecting this and I’m sad for the fandom, but hey, it’s not like some of us didn’t try to tell you that light in the tunnel wasn’t daylight but an onrushing train.

There’s an obvious reason why Killing Eve ran out of gas.  Season 3 was deadly.  It underwhelmed and underperformed.   Suzanne Heathcote shit the bed, kids.  Argue with me if you like, but you don’t have to take my word for it.  The proof is in how Killing Eve all but vanished from all the awards shows with few nominations and no wins. Compare how Season 3 did on that score in comparison to the first two and it’s an embarrassing rebuke to Heathcote’s reign of error.  Awards are not the determining factor of whether a show lives or dies, but the absence of them is a sure sign that it's trending in the wrong direction.  Killing Eve got stale and lost its buzz and once that’s gone it became easy for AMC to give up on it.

Before it got stale, Killing Eve was a breath of fresh air.   Here was a show that was womancentric in all aspects in front and behind the camera with lead characters vividly brought to life by Sandra Oh, Jodie Comer and Fiona Shaw.  How fortunate we were that Sally Woodward-Gentle tabbed Phoebe Waller-Bridge to breathe life into Luke Jennings’ somewhat stock spy tropes. 

Then Season 3 happened and the bottom dropped out. Out goes the style and in comes dung-throwing.   They were literally throwing shit in Season 3.  That’s about as apt a way to sum up what happened to this once great show.  Everything I liked about Villanelle was jettisoned: the clothes, the wit and even the kills. In it’s place was an influx of new supporting characters, unresolved storylines, sloppy writing and show-off directing and a wholly unnecessary solo episode for Villanelle that stopped whatever little momentum the season had dead in its tracks. Jodie Comer was left with little more than mugging and making weird faces to the camera, but at least she was given something to even if most of it was uninteresting. Sandra Oh’s messy MI6 agent, Eve Polastri, was reduced to nothing but reaction shots and exposition dumps as she disappeared in the swamps of head writer Heathcote’s domestic dramas with secondary characters. Killing Eve had never been less about Eve than it was last year. The show has been in freefall ever since Phoebe Waller-Bridge took her Fleabag awards and split to punch up James Bond scripts. It’s probably better that it burn out than hang on and rust away. I'd rather see Jodie make the transition to the big screen than to see another season of Mopey Sad Face Villanelle.   I'd rather see Sandra move on to other television and indie film projects than another season of her as the titular character shoved out of camera view for a side character to be spotlighted.   Most of all Season 3 was just no fun. 

Now that Killing Eve has an expiration date the writers can--or SHOULD--focus on wrapping up and tying up loose ends.  That means no Geraldine, Jamie, Bear, Irina, Dasha to go along with already dusted Mo, Paul, Rhian and Kenny. I can take Carolyn and Konstantin in small doses, but back as supporting characters while Niko can fuck off back to Poland. Here’s what I want in Season Four:  Eve + Villanelle=VILLANEVE.   That’s it. That's the show.   Now go make it. I have no idea for a Killing Eve spin-off without Sandra or Jodie in it would look like and I'm really not curious.  The Adventures of Young Carolyn and Konstantin?  Nah.  We good. Hard pass. In Laura We Trust to deliver a strong final season and a killer finale.   But make no mistake:  Whether or not the show was murdered by a shitty season or put down as a mercy killing,  Killing Eve did not have to go out this way. 

[percysmarguerite]

ANASTASIA THE MUSICAL DRAMATURGICAL INFORMATION

I had to research all of this information as part of an assignment for one of my classes this past year at university.  Enjoy!

disclaimer: I am not Russian, and do not have a super big in-depth background in Russian history, culture, or geography.  The following information is accurate to the best of my knowledge, but parts of this post involve heavy amounts of conjecture about travel times, and it’s also possible that there may be some errors, of which if you spot any, of course, please correct me.

content warnings: This post discusses at length the historical/canonical death of the Romanov family, along with brief implication/discussion of animal death

Anya and her Fitbit

when Anya says she walked Russia, girl ain’t kidding

If she walked from city to city without ever hitching a ride, girl got her steps in

from the jobs that she mentions she has worked in the show, she has chronologically worked in the following places

Perm - hospital worker

Odessa (located in modern-day Ukraine) - dishwasher

St. Petersburg/Leningrad - street sweeper

prior to Perm, she was living with her family in the Ipatiev House (also known as the House of Special Purpose) in Yekaterinberg, but following the death of the Romanovs, the bodies were transported first approximately half an hour north to the Koptyaki forest, then once again south to Ganina Yama, which is about half an hour west of Yekaterinberg (these distances considered for vehicles not for walking)

Anya mentions being found on the side of the road, with fresh vehicular tracks in the snow (it was July when this happened, and I attempted to figure out how likely snow would have been to occur, but didn’t really come up with anything conclusive, but it leads more towards being unlikely but not entirely outside the realm of possibility), and recounts the events that happened in the basement, which means that she likely escaped from the truck afterwards somewhere between Yekaterinburg and the Koptyaki forest

So the following distances are according to Google Maps with the walking option turned on, so obviously take this with a grain of salt, but here is the approximate time it would take to walk between those areas without stopping:

Yekaterinberg to Perm/Koptyaki Forest to Perm (see note below) ~ 3.04/3.2 days (73/77 hours)

Perm to Odessa ~ 21.125 days  (507 hours)

Odessa to St. Petersburg ~ 14.0833 days (338 hours)

as mentioned before, Anya said that she was found on the side of the road by fresh tracks, so it’s likely that she didn’t make it all the way to Perm, or even that she walked very far from where she escaped the truck transporting the bodies

Patronymics, diminutives, and historical inaccuracy, oh my!

the musical has a surprising lack of Russian patronymics, as the only named character to really have one is Anastasia, given that she actually has a historical patronymic, but the fact that no one else has one is just like...kinda weird

common fanon is that Dmitry’s full name is Dmitri Sudayev, as that was the name of a real servant of the Romanov family.  Sources very on what his full name is, Dimitri Floydorovich Sudayev or Dimitry Nikolayevich Antonov, but the historical record lists his father’s name as Nikolai Aleksevich Sudayev, which means that in all likelihood his name would be Dmitry Nikolayevich Sudayev

however, given that Dmitry’s backstory was changed for the musical and is no longer a former servant of the Romanovs but instead the son of an anarchist that died in a labor camp, his patronymic and family name are technically kind of a free-for-all

as mentioned in the musical, his diminuative is Dima

One of the men involved in the killing of the Romanovs was named Stephan Vaganov, which is presumably where Gleb’s surname comes from, which makes Gleb’s patronymic Stephanovich

ergo, his full name is Gleb Stephanovich Vaganov

the diminutive for Anastasia is NOT Anya, it is Nastya

Anya is a diminutive of Anna, which itself derives from the name Hannah

this itself isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because Anya had amnesia, and wouldn’t know her name and the correct diminutive

Lily’s surname (Malevsky-Malevitch) is an example of a double surname, which is an indication her priviledge and higher social class, as they were adopted to distinguish from different branches of the same family, and to differentiate between different members of the same family as well

now onto my favorite controversial name from the show: Toby.  Anya mentions having a dog that she holds to her during the moment where the Romanovs are killed, which is true to historical record, except her dog wasn’t named Toby.  His name was Jimmy.  I have literally no idea why they felt that it was necessary to change the dog’s name.  It’s not even hard to find this information out, it’s in practically every account on the Romanovs, and even can easily be found on the Wikipedia page.

Jumping off a moving train (not clickbait!)  and the return of the fitbit

Anya mentions that they will take the train at midnight from the Finland station, which is obstensibly the St. Petersburg-Finlyandsky Station, which handles westward travel towards Helsinki and Vyborg

if they had remained on the train, they probably would have taken the route that Anya, Dmitry, and Vlad take in the movie, which is the train to Finland, then a ship across the Baltic Sea to Denmark, then traveled across Germany/Brussels/etc. until they reached Paris

However, the musical trio are forced to leave the train once Cheka officers arrive looking for them

so they just, you know.  no big deal.  jump off of a moving train.

they then turn around and head south and west back towards Poland, likely to avoid being caught at the Russian/Finland border, which is mentioned by Gleb in the musical

and then they walked across a third of Europe

in total, to walk from St. Petersburg-Finlyandsky Station (in St. Petersburg) to Paris, France it would have taken ~ 21.3 days (512 hours) without stopping (not counting the time it would have taken for them to walk back to the train station)

from the train station to ~10km northeast of the Polish border (mentioned by Dmitry), it would taken ~ 7.625 days (183 hours) without stopping

it’s also good to note that at some point, they managed to pick up a driver who took them through France to just outside of Paris, and we can assume that they possibly were able to hitch rides for other stretches of the journey, but that the stretch from the train station to Poland is implied to have been walked in entirety by the musical

which means that for the journey from north of St. Petersburg to Paris took anywhere from one to four weeks or so

I hope all of this information was interesting to any fans of the show out there!  I had lots of fun researching it, and glad that I can share all of it with you all. <3

[ryttu3k]

Running order is out! Here's a graph of the running order versus where I scored them in the semis! (Blank spots are for Big Fives, and since I tend to score higher in finals, I'll fill those in afterwards for a comparison.)

Right, so I'll be scheduling my loo break for 15-18, haha.

Beneath, thoughts on all songs in the semis/previews, in finals order:

Czech Republic: Hey she has the same hair stylist as the female host! Oh I’m digging this one, it’s energetic and fun! 8/12

Romania: Oh we going glam glam. I have no idea why Romania seems to be into Spain so much but there’s usually a nice little mutual 12-points going on so this feels pretty fitting. Energetic and fun! 8/12

Portugal: Whew that contrast. It's nice it's sincere it's just. Boring. 4/12

Finland: Starting off with the Rasmus! Oh this is fun. Starting off with some good energy! 8/12

Switzerland: Coma/12 (no it’s like... a 3)

France: Oh neat, this is the Breton song, that’s got a pretty cool vibe.

Norway: Well they definitely have the best title! ………fascinating. 8/12

Armenia: Energy in the second half is definitely better than the first! The staging is pretty fun too. 7/12

Italy: Some of the favourites, it’ll be interesting seeing if they can go two years in a row! Not my thing, alas, bit slow.

Spain: Oh this looks like it could be fun! Lots of energy.

Netherlands: Okay I’m… I like the idea of focusing on mental health! That’s fine! That’s good! But is Eurovision really the best platform for it? 4/12

Ukraine: The favourites, although is it because they’re genuinely good or because of the situation? Ahh. The latter it is, then. I do like the flute, the folk elements, and the swamp witch costume! 6/12

Germany: Aaand the award for lowest-effort outfit goes to...

Lithuania: Very torch song but it feels weirdly... atonal? Nice and sparkly but wow I just felt my energy drop. Sorry, this ain’t it! 6/12

Azerbaijan: “Shit, the audience is having too much fun. Bring in a ballad!” Oh, picks up a bit towards the end! 5/12

Belgium: This has some serious late 90s, early 00s boy band vibes, and not in the way my 10-year-old self would have enjoyed. 4/12

Greece: Coma/12, part two. I see we’re going for a repeat of last year’s second semi, which hopefully means this year’s second semi will be better? 3/12

Iceland: The Vibes™ are pretty cool (and I dig that costume with the floofy white sleeves and black vest), I just wish it had some actual energy. 5/12

Moldova: A jaunty folk/weird song about a train ride between Chisinau and Bucuresti. This is terrible in such an endearing way :D 7/12

Sweden: Very torch song, I like her voice but it’s not my thing. I imagine this will do the numbers. 7/12

Australia: lmao we have to have slightly awkward host banter because Sheldon’s costume is so extra it needs extra time. Full disclosure, not my favourite song! Good on him he seems like a sweet kid and it’s very emotional just… yeah, not my thing. 6/12

United Kingdom: I’m digging the outfit! Song I’ll have to see in full but so far fun.

Poland: Ballad, picks up a bit as it goes on. Oh this “in the river” bit sounds like it belongs to a different song? Interesting. Wow, that last note just kinda… died. 4/12

Serbia: I’m… not 100% sure how I feel about it as a song, probably wouldn’t download it, but goodness it’s an interesting performance! Very neat visuals. 8/12

Estonia: The poor neglected guitar. Very beige! The song is kinda fun. 7/12

[sweetjames]

When I 1st joined social media (almost like 10 years ago) we were here for fun, to escape "real life" and share our love for certain things and people. But for the past 2-3 years the social platform got soooooo toxic !!

Twitter is by far the worst, they hate on EVERYTHING, "cancel" people for little things that happened 10 years ago, because people apparently can't make mistakes when they are young and can’t change. They get offended over everything, if you have a different opinion than the the rest, you're immediately hated on.

I found ski jumping family on tumblr and there was no hate. Fans just shared their love for sport and jumpers. No matter who won, there were happy posts, there was no hate for jumpers. Of course everyone has a different taste and opinion, it's normal that everyone posted about their fav jumpers - but there was no hate. What I love about this fandom is that people don't just support their national team, but many others, it's an international love. 

It was so refreshing to come from twitter to this lovely family on tumblr. But like all the other socials, this one started to get toxic too. I've seen so many posts talking about "taking a break from the fandom"... Yes you can write your own opinion! Yes the competitions are usually not fair for everyone, because of the wind conditions! The judges give better points to jumpers that jump better in the season than to the ones that are not so good that season. But all these things have nothing to do with jumpers!! They don't make the rules! They don't bribe judges or the FIS!! I don't know how much money do you think ski jumping teams have, but trust me it's not a lot!! The only ones I think that actually have the most money are Norway and Germany (because of all the wins in competitions and ski jumping schools at home...). But even they probably don't "throw money away". The rest don't have so much money. They need to pay for equipment, trainings, travels...for the whole year, not just winter season!! They don't have the money to bribe judges/FIS!! This isn't football, basketball, hockey or a big sport where A LOT of money is being transferred around - too much money if you ask me. The jumpers have a 2nd job next to jumping or they still go to school.

I get it you're mad when your fav doesn't win and of course you can share your opinion about it. But don't hate on the jumper that won. Don't make other fans bad about themselves for being happy that their fav has won or is on the podium. Or write about it and just don't tag jumping and jumpers under it.

My example: I don't like Kraft (I won't go into details, everyone has a different opinion on people) and I just don't care about the Austrian team in general - I'm in love with Gregor and I miss Fettner, I'm happy when certain jumpers do well, but that's where it ends, I just don't care about them, like I do for other teams. That's why I simply don't post about them or reblog stuff about them. When Kraft was winning I wasn't happy about it, because I wanted my faves to win. But did I post hate for him? No. Did I blame him my favs were losing? No. Was I saying how the competitions were unfair or that he didn't deserve the win? No. I just simply ignored posts about him and focused on my fav jumpers! The thing is: if the jumper wins that means he was good that day. He won for a reason. I could never say that he won just because he is Kraft and judges love him. He won because he's a great jumper. You just can't deny someone is good.

This season germans, Halvor and polish jumpers are on top. and lately Anže !! :) That's just how it is this season. They are in a good form, they usually have the best jumps and they deserve the win/podium. Germany, Norway, Poland and Austria are usually on top, they simply have the best jumpers and the majority of fans support these team. But look at Mackenzie this season !!! He's not the 31st anymore, he's actually in 2nd round!! :) Slovenia is getting their shit together. Japan was great for 2 seasons, this year they are not so good. Certain countries actually qualified this season for the 1st time!! This sport is so unpredictable. At the beginning of the season you honestly can't predict who will win the overall or even be in top 3 or top 10 at the end of the season.

Yeah I know...everytime I post something on tumblr lately, it's just these big rants about the fandom....But it's so tiring coming here on the tag and seeing "drama" instead of pictures and gifs and happines.

And please don't look at this as a hate post for austrinas/Kraft, I just wanted to show an example and this is the one I relate to. I know a lot of people don't like Germans, Poles and Slovenes here on tumblr and I don't judge them for it. You can't forse people to like something/someone. Just don't talk about people you dislike maybe?? Idk...I still don't understand how someone can spend their free time hating on someone online...I get it when 12 year old fangirls do it, but when you're over 16 or even 20+ and you still hate on people instead of just focusing on things you like...that's just weird...you need to get a life or start focusing on things that actually matter in life. It's a goddamn sport!! Your life doesn't depend on it. Yeah it relaxes you and makes you happy, but your life won't end if your fav won't win!!!

Anyway...if you've read my whole essay...I'm so sorry 😂 😂

[dishonestkilla]

Bliss

A/N: So, this was inspired by a video @/nishinoyayus posted on tik tok and that is when this headcanon started to bloom inside of me.

Synopsis: Ushijima Wakatoshi, a man of few words and even fewer reactions. If one did think about it, they'd be quick to figure out that the famous athlete was way too stiff for a normal person. However, there was someone who knew better than that, who was aware of Ushijima's stoic personality and what laid underneath the facade. They had seen Ushijima at his worst and his best. When he was on top of the world and when he was lowest. But what happens, when the exact same Y/N happened to trigger an entire inner war to develop between the olive haired male's heart and mind?

TW: angst, mentions of smutty themes, a little foul language, hints at mild drug use(w33d)

The dawning sky brought shimmering rays of light onto the darkened city, the beaming smile of the sun kissing the white sheets spread upon someone's bed. Painted in a caramel gold, the sheets were wrapped around the upper body of no one other than the legendary Ushijima himself. With every shift of his, a muscle twitched, this man had the gods sculpt him from head to toe. The glistening pecs of a deity alike Adonis, honey tinted skin, his face ever so distinctive, prominent jaw and sharp eyes. Overall, the tall man was fairly handsome to say at least.

Despite of his good looks, Ushijima never happened to be interested in a relationship or anything alike, hookups did the thing for him. After all, he was an athlete and did not have the time for a serious relationship, whether his family liked it or not, Ushijima never seemed interested in settling down for the time being, though he never entirely denied it. He always claimed he had yet to find the right person.

But how exactly was he supposed to find a partner whilst traveling all the time? Unlike his current image, Ushijima had matured a lot since highschool, he has changed to a fair extent, Ushijima is not as oblivious as he used to be, he is rather perceptive and has a hunch for understanding the ones around him, though he often simply ignores them if they happen to be of insignificance. He is a busy man and wanting to understand those of no prominence to him would be a waste of time.

The only people he truly cares about are his friends, and to be fair, he tries his best with them, really does. Ushijima is aware of his past and his selfishness, but ever since he has realized that being entirely selfish wouldn't lead one to the top. Therefore he often tried, emphasis on tried to be a good friend, he truly wanted to be, but with how occupied and focused be was, that proved to be harder than expected.

Overlooking all those things, there was one person who always had Ushijima's back, regardless of anything, they had been by his side since highschool, a rock at the stormy shore for him. They never judged him for his behaviour, never claimed they knew better, being the amazing best friend a guy like Ushijima needed.

After highschool, Ushijima had asked them to accompany him on his way to the top. It might have sounded entirely egoistic and self-absorbed, yet that wasn't the case.

Y/N used to be a great volleyball player, they were amazing at what they did, though given the fact that it wasn't their main focus, there wasn't a way for them to go pro. Instead they went to college. Ushijima still remembers how hard working they were, studying till late. However, they always reassured him that it was worth it, and two more dark circles beneath the tender skin of their eyes wouldn't be a crazy change.

Now, they were the co-coach of the national team that Ushijima was part of. Yes, Y/N was not only a great best friend but also a ridiculously good coach. Many would mock the men's team for the latter fact, what they didn't know most of the time, was the fact that as a mere highschooler, alike Ushijima himself, they belonged to the best in their respective field. In their second year they happened to become the second best and continuing on that path, they reached the top, through hard training, extreme measures being taken that sometimes, even Ushijima was worried about his best friend overworking them self.

Fast forward to the current situation, it was around seven in the morning when Ushijima woke up, dragging his broad body towards his kitchen to enjoy some coffee just to be met with the only thing, and honestly most annoying factor of living with his best friend. Unlike Ushijima himself, Y/N lived a double bladed life. One as the presentable and modest co-coach with a short temper who had the men of the team on a leash, a power hovering above them, that even Iwaizumi Hajime, the coach, did not possess.

And then, there was the other side to Y/N, the one who enjoyed getting a kick out of life, the one that drank too much at parties, and didn't mind being higher than the clouds more than often. The worst part? Their very casual hook-ups. One that the olive eyed male had to encounter, topless body on display as the guy stuttered out an apology while collecting his clothes. The heated glare of the bigger man shot daggers at the other, with a grunt he turned his head away as he made a stroll to the coffee machine, luckily, Y/N had already prepared some. Pouring his cup, his orbs fell onto their figure as they walked into sight, leaning at the frame of the door to their bedroom. A mug snug in their hands, though the next sight caused a proud smirk to glaze the face of the wing spider. Unlike what one would await from such a situation, Y/N wore a Jersey, not only any Jersey.. It was the one Ushijims wore during his first match with the national team. They seemed smaller in the piece. It didn't even matter too much that they wore a sacrilege. It filled Ushijima with a weird flame in his guts. It made his insides churn and twist here and there, thus, seeing them wear his clothes while dismissing some one night stand, definitely filled the male with pride.

After both of them had finished their morning routines and had some breakfast, they were off to training again, after all, they had a match in barely two days, everyone had to be on top of their game, prime qualities were the ones needed. And Ushijima knew that as well as his Y/N did.

The two days to the match passed rather quickly and the national team was met with their enemy, it was quite strong themselves. It was obvious that the match would take a toll on the members, so when the last and deciding point fell and the national team of Japan experienced a devastating, yet very very close defeat, that is when Y/N happened to act like the safety rock to the entire team. They told them how the others were older and more experienced, but that they'd get their chance and that the next time, their team would be able to defeat such champion as Poland. They were the second to mention after all.

During the drive home, Ushijima was eerily quiet, yes, that wasn't out of the usual, but the silence this time was heavy, it was thick and laced with tension, tension that Y/N could sense from miles away. They were familiar with the feeling though. The time Shiratorizawa lost against Karasuno, that's when Y/N felt that tension, but that was years ago and ever since, Ushijima took losses not as personal as this time, therefore Y/N decided to get this entire mood out of the way.

As soon as the door closed behind the two, they were quick go grab onto the others wrist, eyes fixing themselves on his.

"Toshi~" their voice was a whispered tone, a tiny purring sensation to it. "Care to tell me what is wrong with you?" They spoke ever so softly as the hand around his wrist let go. "Nothing," the other answered non-chalantly, though Y/N knew better, they knew when he lied. It was that he hesitated to answer, eyes shifting to the ground whenever he did so. "Oh, spare me with your lies Wakatoshi. I can see through your petty dishonesty. So, what is it, spit it out."

With a gruff huff, Ushijima's shoulders slouched slightly, eyes now trained on his best friend, "I missed the receive and messed up, Y/N, I messed this up for us. If it wasn't for m-" before another filthy ounce of self-hatred could even barrel itself out of his plush lips after being processed by that bird brain of his, Y/N was quick to wrap their arms around the torso of the tall man, their head on his chest as their brows furrowed in annoyance while talking to him, " Don't say such things about yourself, everyone knows that you did your best, hell. None of them stopped the ball, they couldn't. And so what if you didn't manage to do so? It is not the end. I think you guys forget who your opponent was. They are not the second best to be beaten down ever so easily. It takes us more training and time but instead of sulking, learn something from it." Listening to his breathing, the calm, steady pace of it being ever so reassuring, but when that flow was stopped by a hitch, Y/N realized one thing. Ushijima didn't hug them back yet, his arms slumped at his sides as he simply stood there, eyes widened in shock and something they couldn't entirely decipher.

Time stood still, Ushijima couldn't move, couldn't speak. Throat dry as if he hadn't hydrated for weeks, months, if not years. Yes, Ushijima and Y/N were friends, best friends, though there was one astonishing fact about their relationship. Ushijima did not ever show interest in cuddling or hugging to begin with, not to mention that he often dodged them, if they weren't after glorious victories.

Most people would tell him to get over it, to stop dwelling over such a simple act. But to Ushijima had a different point of view on the entire thing. Why? Ushijima did not experience the privilege of tenderness. His mother did not hug and comfort Ushijima, she wasn't affectionate. After his father had left, Ushijima was hit with an even stricter family, no one stood up for him, so while maturing, his behavioral patters of being ever so stoic and disinterested could be blamed on that. How could one show excessive emotional reactions when never confronted with them in their household, being told they were inappropriate and would lead to disciplinary punishments?

But the way Y/N swiftly embraced the male while trying their nest to comfort him, something in his mind snapped, as if a pair of chains that had winded themselves around his brain down to his heard had been removed, like a string inside of him had snapped and the sound being the reason for him to act instead of retreat. And in that very moment, Ushijima realized something more, there was a sensation beneath his cold outerior, the usually emotionless Ushijima Wakatoshi felt like electricity was running through his veins, bolts playing hide and seek on his skin, that's when he knew Y/N was more than a friend, more than a best friend, so much more, a soul mate, the partner he needed.

With a big step and almost harsh movements Ushijima basically pulled the retreating Y/N against his muscular chest again, his head burying in the crook of their neck as he held them there, body shaking with vigor as a sob left his throat.

Eyes widening in realization, Y/N pushed a little against the other, just to be confronted with a heart wrenching sight. The big, scary Ushijima with tears lacing his orbs, their fire and flame died down just the slightest as his cheeks were stained with a few glistening streaks with the wetness of the discharge.

"Toshi..!" Before Y/N could continue with their words, Ushijima was quick to shush them down, "Listen to me please. All these years I have been running from any sort of affection, I had no idea how to initiate it in the first place. Which, is caused by the upbringing of my mother and her family, but today, today you showed me that a failure does not make me equal to a failure. You proved to me that I can be weak at times.. zand that craving a casualty like a hug is human nature, and that is why it is okay to hug."

The way Ushijima explained his feelings made the best friend chuckle. Even now his words were controlled and neatly picked. He was such a dork despite of his serious self.

"And there is something more, something I cannot entirely understand, but I think this is what love is. At least the feeling is the same as described in the magazines Tendou used to read."

For a second Y/N was the one stunned, words stuck in their throat. It would be a lie to say that Y/N did not like Ushijima more than a little friend, ever since highschool they had been crushing on their now best friend. When did it start though? Was it when they saw Ushijima and his overwhelming presence in the halls, or was it when Tendou who happened to know Y/N for years as they were friends in middle school, or was it on the field. The game against aoba johsai, was it then? When Ushijima stood there so proud, showed off his skills sthey admired so much? Or was it the day Ushijima came to them, devastated in a sense, not crying but being way too talkative about the match against Karasuno, that night he laid his head on their lap, letting them play with his hair as they listened to music together? That must have been it. That was when Y/N knew they loved Ushijima. But knowing him, they were aware of how focused he was on volleyball and his future. Yes, that second they chose not to indulge with him in any other sense than friends. They'd stop him, wouldn't they?

"Wakatoshi..I do love you, always have, always will, but I don't think this is a good idea, I would only stop you and you know that, too. In our worlds, dating is not very convenient."

Y/N explained ever so rationally, but Ushijima wouldn't understand, he didn't want to, that is why his next movement caused the other to visibly flinch as his lips found theirs, melting into each other. Y/N's resolve simply crumbled in front of Ushijima, a smirk on his lips as one hand tagged with the back of their neck, tugging at the hair, eyes darkening with lust clouding the mind of the mind baffling wing spiker.

Ushijima was a non-chalant, aloof and sober man, but when lust lingered in his being, the entire persona made a 360°. No words needed to be spoken between the two as the large man pushed the soul mate in question into the nearest wall, impatient and needy on both sides, "Jump," he ordered, dominance oozing off of the olive haired man.

Without further instructions, Y/N showed to be compliant in the situation, back against the wall as their lips molded together again, hands roaming each other before one pulled away to catch air. With that, Y/N was carried away, the scent of pleasure and passion filling the entire area.

The rest of the night is a telltale of sinful sounds, a bed breaking due to the impact of the excitement and lustful rage, if one would ask the neighbour's, they'd probably be able to recall the sounds even the devil would consider inappropriate.

From that night on, Ushijima and Y/N happened to be dating each other, not much later making the announcement publicly, and unlike Y/N's fear of rejection by the fans and supporters of the player, they were met with a positive wave. Some even complaining that it took them oh so long to realize while everyone already knew.

The only person more excited than the both happened to be an infamous red head who was now rich off of his skills as the 'Chocolatier fou de Paris' which meant something along the lines of the 'Mad Chocolatier of Paris'. His voice was so hectic and high pitched, a little upset he was not the first person to be told but their friends in their Japan.

Overall, the two were blessed with each other, love finally being gifted to the two. In such cruel and difficult world, Y/N and Ushijima were each others strong rock to lean on.

A/N: This took an eternity LMAO, but I hope yall like it, I'd be happy to get feedback and also, my requests are open, so please, request stuff, I really like writing and requests could help against my writers block. Cyaa💕💕

[teamhappyme]

a series of promising events (4/5)

aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count: 6.7k

a/n: happy new year!! we’ve made it to part 4! this part differs from the 3 previous ones, as it takes place all in one (and a half) days. But there are flashbacks, represented with italics. if anything is confusing with the timeline, or anything else is confusing you in general, please let me know! my brain is a weird place and does not connect the dots when i post for a public audience. i hope you guys enjoy this part, it was really fun for me to write!

get ready, let’s go friends!

here are the links to part 1, part 2, & part 3

****

October 2012

“Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.” - Winnie the Pooh

You’re known for your predictability. Yes, you’re overly kind, extremely perceptive, and a little bit of a literary genius. But those closest to you knew the predictability of your life.

You craved routine. You woke up at 5:30 every morning, had breakfast, watched the news, and caught up on some domestic things before heading into the office. You stopped at the same bagel cart every morning, an Asiago bagel with butter for you and a coffee for Spencer. Monday’s, you treated the whole team. You got to work at 7:12, second only to Hotch. 

The team knew how you would react to every case. Missing or dead children would cause you to go silent, families being the target would choke you up, and anything including a scumbag with a signature kill made you nauseous. 

So it was safe to say they were more than surprised to find out that you’d left for a month long european holiday, from an email, with Strauss cc'd on it. The team couldn’t remember the last time you went on vacation, because you hadn't gone further than two hours in one day. 

In your travels through Europe, you stopped in countries that you’d only dreamt about visiting in your dreams. You saw Nyhavn, Denmark, the colorful canal right outside of Copenhagen. Hopped through Warsaw and Gdansk in Poland, before being silenced by your tour of Auschwitz. Next was France, the country you always said you would flee to once you aged out of the system. Besides hitting all the touristy attractions in Paris, you traveled through the alps, and made sure you stopped to see Giverny, the little village that inspired Claude Monet and his water lily paintings. The last true destination was Spain, jumping at the chance to flex your spanish minor muscles. You roamed Barcelona and Madrid, feeling a little like the Cheetah Girls as you stood in front of La Sagrada Familia.

The more you travelled, the more you’d thought about quitting. Thought about sending your resignation to Strauss through an email, leave your desk full of the mementos and picture frames, and continue falling in love with the continent you’d never been to before. 

But then you made your final stop in London, to the sister who you missed immensely, and lost the nerve entirely.

“You’ll regret leaving them for the rest of your life,” Emily said to you, and you wondered for a second if she was projecting her decisions onto you. 

“They don’t deserve me.” You’d mumbled out, just loud enough for her to hear. “I can’t continue on like this.”

You’d given the team everything you had for seven and a half years. The job demanded personal sacrifices you never thought you’d be capable of, until you met the people who signed on for this before you. The people who shared the same commitment to helping others, the responsibility to improve the world around them before the one that housed them. It was the first time you felt at home in your quarter century existence.

But the work never seized. The jet began to feel more like home than your apartment, hotel beds provided more comfort than your own pillow covered mattress. And no matter how many people you saved, no amount of gratification from loved ones could quell the loneliness building back inside you.

So you listened to Emily, and came back to the states on your original return flight, October 23, 2012. You returned to the real world in less than seventy-two hours and promised Garcia you would brush up on the next case before debriefing on Monday morning. 

You were betting on the fact that the team wasn’t lingering around the office, considering it was seven thirty on a friday night as you headed up in the elevator, fresh off your flight from the UK. The last thing you wanted was someone to corner you, when all you wanted to do was sleep off the lingering memories of your last night here. 

The glass doors leading into the BAU gave you a view of the bullpen; empty. Opening the door, you walked over to your desk, quickly glancing around the other spaces to see if anything had changed. It hadn’t.

Grabbing the files Garcia left on your desk and your car keys from the drawer, you tidied up the space the tiniest bit. You made sure everything was squared off to your monitor, updating the days passed on your desk calendar. You wrote a reminder on a yellow sticky to thank Reid for watering your small desk plant and stuck it to the screen for Monday. Everything looked like it was in its place, until you saw a blue stress ball sitting on your chair. Your head whipped up to the office at the top of the stairs, but the lights were off and the door shut. He wasn’t here. 

But you could feel the stare of his eyes from four weeks ago on you just the same.

You guys were working a local case in the District. 

The unsub had murdered three men, each with one shot to the head execution style. There were no signs of torture, and all three men were found with their eyes closed and arms crossed over their torsos; signs of remorse. 

It took the team thirty hours to stick the profile and find the woman responsible. Her name was Kathryn Downey, a forty two year old mother of three, with a law degree that hadn’t been used in fifteen years. After digging into the victims personal lives and her own, the motive and stressor became clear to everyone; her husband had cheated on her. 

You found Kathryn with a gun pointed to her husband’s head, his hands and feet duct taped, and a strip around his mouth keeping him silent. 

Her hands were shaking, and you knew from the second you saw her that she didn’t want to kill him. She was angry, and full of rage, but she wouldn’t be able to follow through with this.

As long as you use the right language.

“Kathryn, put the gun down, we’re with the FBI.” Hotch started in a calm voice, but she shook her head, hands shaking faster. 

“No. I have to do this. He,” She took a breath, pushing the hair out of her face with her free hand. “He has to pay.”

You glanced at Aaron before taking a step closer, slowly lowering your weapon. She needed to feel safe, and she needed to feel like an equal. 

“Kathryn, my name is y/n l/n. I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit from the FBI. I really want to help you through this situation, so I’m going to put my gun down, alright?” You slowly lowered the gun to the ground, kicking it back gently to Hotch. 

“Now Kathryn, I know your children are here. I don’t want anything to happen to them, and I know you don’t either, so could you tell me where they are so we can help them?” 

“In the basement, I locked them in the basement. I didn’t want them to,” She let the thought end, not wanting to manifest it into the universe. She didn’t want them to see their mother kill their father.

Hotch spoke gently into the comms, getting Morgan and Rossi down to the kids. 

“Kathryn, I want to know why we’re here in this situation. I’ve read the file, I profiled you and your family, but I want to know your side of the story. Why are you holding a gun to your husbands head?”

Her eyes widened in the slightest, and you were sure it was from the empathy in your voice. But this was your specialty, and you were determined to talk this woman down. 

“He cheated on me,” She whispered, and for a split second, you thought this was going to be easy. But then she pressed the gun harder into his head, and let out a low laugh. “After everything I’ve done for this family, for him, he just takes his pants off for another woman?”

You heard the safety click off, and Hotch’s own in return. Please do not end in a shootout.

“Kathryn, don’t look at him. Don’t think about him kneeling in front of you. Just focus on me. Tell me how you got to this moment right now.”

“How did I get to this moment? I got here by following around this sad excuse for a man for the last twenty years. Like a moth to a flame, I couldn’t escape this life of mine.” Her eyes started to water, and you internally sighed. You were getting somewhere. “I have a law degree, you know. Fifth in my class at Columbia, and I only used it for a year. And it was in sleazy corporate law. Because I got married, and I got pregnant, and Sean wanted someone to stay home with the kids.

“I went from the intelligent corporate attorney with her eyes set on the attorney general’s office, to a cliche housewife who spends her days cleaning and dotting on her husband and kids. I never wanted to be this woman,” She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall down her face freely. She looked so young in this vulnerable state, too young to have three children. Yet she looked so tired, and so defeated. “I gave up everything for this family. I gave up my career, friends, bucket list dreams, and a life that was waiting to be lived, for this man. I cater to his every need, I listen to him drone on about work, assure him when he’s feeling anxious, and give in when he needs a release. I am my children’s rock; when they need a shoulder to cry on I’m there in a second. They need help with their math homework, I’m the number one girl. But when it’s my turn to fall apart, when it’s my turn to be lifted up and supported, nobody is there for me. And he should be able to be there for me.”

If you hadn’t undergone intense training at Quantico, you would’ve been in tears by now. You empathized with this woman more than you should, and you were trying so desperately to help her out of this situation. So you continued to dig your fingernails into your palms, and spoke again. 

“I know what you’re feeling, Kathryn.”

“You don’t know what I’m feeling!” Wrong move. She ripped the gun away from her husband and fixed the trigger on you. Hotch moved so that he was only one step behind you, trying to get her to lower the gun. “You have no idea what this is like!”

“I do, Kathryn. I promise you I do. I may not be a wife, or a mother, but I know what it’s like to give yourself completely to a person. I know what it’s like to hold onto the stress and fears of the people you love. I understand, because I’m this person too.

“People like you and me, we feel the need to be the emotional support for everyone we love. We never want to see them struggle, and we never want to see them in pain. So, we listen. We overcompensate to make them feel better, and we check in regularly to make sure they’re okay. Our happiness, as strange and sad as it may be, is directly linked to theirs. We can’t be happy unless they’re happy. But once they come out of their depression, once they thank us for being the light in their lives, they walk away, and take the happy rainbow with them. And they don’t leave any for us.” Tears continued to fall down her face, but you needed to go further. She was going to break if you kept going. “Kathryn, I was in your position not long ago. I remember what it feels like when you realize that the love you have for someone won’t be reciprocated. That after everything you’ve done for them, all the small moments that you succeeded in taking their grief away and bringing happiness back into their life, they still don’t appreciate you. And it’s heartbreaking.

“But I’m standing across from you today, on the other side of that pain, trying to tell you that it gets better. It doesn’t go away, but it gets a hell of a lot better, Kathryn. So please, do not let this one moment that you couldn’t take the pain away ruin all the times you did.” 

You expected the tears. You expected an emotional end to this situation. You didn’t expect Kathryn Downey to drop her gun in the middle of the room, and collapse onto you. But that’s exactly what she did. And instead of letting go to untie her husband, instead of joining Hotch in cuffing her, you held her for a minute. You held her breaking heart in your hands, and tried your hardest to take away all her fears and pain for once in her life. 

After a minute, you pulled away and grabbed a hold of her upper arm. She gave you a slight nod, knowing this is what was always going to happen. You led her down the stairs and into the back of a squad car, as Aaron helped the husband to his children once outside of the house. 

You were leaning against the suburban that you came in, watching as the team debriefed with the local pd before being dismissed. But amongst the chaos, Hotch found your eyes, and gave you a knowing look. One that meant you were going to talk through the very personal negotiation you gave.

The team arrived back at the office just shy of ten o’clock, Penelope waiting for Derek at the elevator. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as you led the gang into the bullpen, everyone dropping their go bags at their desks. 

You lingered for a moment as Hotch made his way up to his office, knowing you’d be joining him in a few seconds. You grabbed your blue stress ball, complimentary from the C.A.L.M. department meeting, as through the curtains you could see him drop his bag before checking his phone for any messages from Jack.

“L/n,” Here it comes. “Can I talk to you in my office please?”

You and Spencer shared a look, and he gave you a comforting smile in return. You took the steps two at a time to his office, and shut the door behind you once you arrived. He was standing behind his desk, so you didn’t feel the need to sit yourself.

You waited for him to speak, since he was the one that called you in. It was a little childish, but you weren’t the one who wanted the discussion.

“I want to talk about the negotiation.”

“I thought it was pretty successful. I empathised, I got her to drop her weapon, and no one was injured in the process.”

“Y/n, you know that’s not what I meant.” He uncrossed his arms, letting out a sigh. The two of you were too exhausted to have this conversation, but that wasn’t going to stop Hotch from going on. “I told you that you could lean on me when it all became too much.”

“That was six years ago, Hotch.” Defensive, but not rude. A fine line. “And this wasn’t about work, this was personal. You’re not obligated to listen to our personal issues that take place outside the office.”

“And you are?” Stop spinning my words, Hotchner. “I know you, y/n. This isn’t just something that can be brushed back under the rug.” You scoffed. “You don’t know me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t know me, Hotch. None of you do. You know my file. You know that I got a full ride to Bowdoin, that I was a social worker before transferring here, and that most of my life before eighteen was sealed away. I confided in you six years ago about my childhood and now you think you know me?”

“Why are you getting so defensive?”

“I’m not-” You paused, knowing that if you finished that statement it would, in fact, be defensive. “I’m just really tired and I don’t want to be having this conversation right now.”

“It’s not healthy for you to keep everything in while people spill their lives to you. And you know that.”

“Hotch,” You warned, your exhaustion quickly turning into rage.

“What, you really think I’m just going to drop this after hearing you confess to a serial killer that you have no joy in your life? And now you’re going to try and convince me that I don’t know anything about you? Bullshit, y/n. I know that you talk to your foster siblings every sunday to check in and make sure they’re all doing okay. I know that you volunteer with Garcia to help the families of victims cope with their loss. I know that you cling to Spencer like gum wherever you go to make him feel less insecure in a bar.”

“Stop it,”

“I know that your favorite color is purple, that you still write articles for CNN and The Times under a pseudonym. And I know, more than anything in the world, you want to be the mother that you never got to have.”

“Stop it!” You threw the blue ball into his builtins, hitting one of his stupid administrative awards in the process. He didn’t even flinch. “You don’t get to know me like that.”

“Why not?” You let out a low laugh as tears started to fill in your eyes. He was oblivious, and that's what made it hurt even more. You cracked your knuckles for a few seconds, waiting for him to connect the words you spoke at the Downey house and your frustration with him in this moment.

But his face softened, the wrinkles disappeared from his forehead, and you knew he figured it out. He didn’t need to say the words for you to know exactly what was going through his head. But he was with Beth, and you were not going to interfere. This wouldn’t change anything.

“It’s late, I should head home. I’ll get you my report before monday.”

You left his office without saying goodnight, and you tried to ignore the rest of your team huddled around Morgan’s desk, pretending not to be eavesdropping. But they totally were. 

Instead you grabbed your bags, giving Spencer a reassuring smile as his gaze lingered on you for a second longer. You had no intentions of turning around to see Hotch’s face. But if you had, you would’ve seen the same heartbroken expression across his face, realizing he let you walk away.

You tore your eyes away from the office, not wanting to relive the memory any longer. You stashed the stress ball under your monitor before turning out the light, and making your way back to the elevator.

Once you were settled back in your apartment, you sent a text to Reid and JJ, letting them know you got in okay and that you’d see them at the office on Monday. After getting a thumbs up and a ‘glad you’re home’ in response, you turned in for the night, trying to dream of nights in Paris and Barcelona instead of at the BAU.

---

It was hard for you to get back in the routine of consulting and profiling. Garcia had left you copies of three cases the team was going to be working on when you returned, and you’d barely worked through the first one in two hours. 

Three teenagers went missing from their small town in Idaho, and all were found in Seattle in the same week. Of course, your first case back included kids. 

You resorted to calling Spencer when you really had no idea where to begin. You felt like a rookie all over again, asking for help when creating a geographical profile or running new negotiation tactics. But your best friend was quick to help, assuring you that once you got back to the office, you’d fall back into the routine.

“Did you have a good time?” He finally asked, albeit apprehensively. You didn’t leave on the best terms with anyone, and they all seemed to know what pushed you over the edge.

“I did. It’s amazing to know that there is a whole other world out there that we don’t even know about. It’s so different over there, Spence. It’s peaceful, and beautiful, and everything the place you call home should be.”

You could hear the intake of breath over the line. “Does that mean you’re moving to Spain?” A smile crossed your lips just thinking about Barcelona. But, it wasn’t home.

“This is my home, Spencer. I’m not leaving anytime soon.” You left out the part about contemplating a new life for the better part of three weeks, knowing it would only cause him more paranoia. You were staying in Quantico, continuing what you were born to do.

After drafting a rough profile and reviewing family statements, you took a break from the paperwork staring back at you all morning. 

You made your way into the kitchen to find something for lunch, the afternoon approaching quick. All you really wanted to do was crash on the couch and watch old movies for hours, until monday morning inevitably rolled around. Selfishly you wanted your vacation to last forever. But your mind, and your bank account, thought differently.

After consuming a sandwich and some chips, you brought back the fresh mug of hot chocolate to the kitchen table, ready to take on the second file. Two women raped, tortured, and murdered outside of Miami. Why the fuck did it always have to be Florida.

Halfway through the family statements, there was a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun from the side table, just in case. Only three people had a key to your apartment. One of them was in England, one you just got off the phone with, and one… you didn’t exactly know where you stood with him.

After checking the peephole and seeing Hotch on the other side, you let out a sigh of relief. No one is coming to muder you. But it was quickly replaced with the memories of your last encounter, and the unspoken realization of feelings unrequited.

You placed your gun back on the table, and unlocked the door for him. He was wearing a navy blue quarter zip, jeans, and sneakers, the ultimate Aaron Hotchner not on duty look. It made your heart beat just a little faster noticing his hair was free of any gel, flopping naturally as he walked. 

“Hi,” You greeted him, half of you hidden behind your front door. 

A shadow of a smile crossed his lips, and he placed his hands in his pockets. “Hi. I’m sorry for stopping by unannounced. I know you must be tired and getting ready for Monday.”

“No, it’s okay. Did you want to come in?” You opened the door a little more, stepping out to show your sweatpants and sweatshirt look from behind the door.

“Thank you.” He murmured as he walked through the entrance, moving to take off his shoes. You told him a million times that you didn’t follow that rule, and that you hated it when people made their guests remove their shoes. But he told you once that it was a sign of comfort, that he felt at ease in someone else's home.

“Can I get you something to drink? I have some tea bags left over I think, or I can make you a cup of coffee.”

“No, I’m okay.” 

“Are you sure? It’ll only take a second. Oh, are you hungry? I still have some sealed crackers from before I left, might have something in the freezer if-”

“Y/n,” He interrupted you and you stopped in the middle of your path to the kitchen. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” You nodded, making your way back to the living room. “Oh, I um, got something for Jack while I was in England with Emily. I know it’ll probably keep him holed up in his room for a week, but I couldn’t resist.” 

You pulled out the bag of souvenirs you got for the team, grabbing the London attractions lego set you bought for the young boy. Aaron smiled when you handed it to him, knowing the two of them would no doubt be starting this when he got home. 

“You didn’t have to get this for him. But he’s gonna love it.” 

“I know.” You reached in the bag once more, pulling out the gift you got for Aaron. “And I know you’ll probably never wear this, but I had to get it for you.”

He opened the box, a british flag tie on the inside. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips, the tacky gift really meaning a lot to him. “Thank you. I can honestly say this is the most unique gift I’ve ever received.”

“Glad to hear it.” You tucked your foot underneath you as you settled onto the couch, letting Aaron set the gifts aside. You knew what conversation was coming next, but you didn’t have the courage to start it. Especially since he was the one to come to you.

He settled in on the couch, a cushion between the two of you, a clear boundary that he’d set. 

“Did you enjoy your time over there?” 

“I had a really great time. I can’t believe I’d gone thirty two years without leaving the country. You don’t realize how much of the world there is to see until you go and uncover a small fraction of it.”

He smiled while beginning to pick at his fingernails. This was a new tell of his, he was usually extremely reserved with his anxiety. “You sound like Emily.” 

“I’m going to take that as a complement.” You said with a small laugh, adoring the woman across the ocean. 

“It is. She called me a few days ago, told me you guys had a nice visit.” 

“We did. Prentiss knows how to have a good time no matter the city. It was a little too much for me, though.” 

“Nobody can quite keep up with Emily.” He added before letting out a breath.

“She also told me that you were contemplating leaving the BAU.” There goes the first shoe, dropping from the ceiling. “Are you still thinking of quitting?”

“No.” It was the truth. Em had spoken some sense into you, and you knew deep down, like you told Spencer, this was your home. “I just needed a break from everything. And Europe was an amazing distraction. But I’m back, and ready to get back into the swing of things.”

He nodded, some tension slowly released from his shoulders. He couldn’t lose another member. It was too soon.

“Was it because of me?” 

“What?” Even though you were expecting this conversation, it still caught you off guard. 

“I’m not conceited enough to think you fled to another continent because of a fight, but is that what pushed you over the edge? What led you to want to quit the BAU?”

In a word, yes. The argument was the last straw on the camel's back. You’d spent years with this unit, fulfilling a destiny that you made up for yourself so that you wouldn’t feel guilty for not having a family or friends to confide in. You spent the better part of the last three years pining for a man you couldn’t have, trying to fill the holes in your life by playing pretend. So yes, it was Hotch that pushed you over the edge. But you learned a hell of a lot about yourself in those four weeks.

“Hotch, did you know that this was the first time I went on an airplane for my own enjoyment? This was the first vacation I’ve been on in my life. I booked a flight on a Thursday night that left at six a.m. the next morning. I was spontaneous, and in control of all the moves I would make for the next thirty days. I’ve never felt more liberated in my life.

“But then I landed in Copenhagen, and had an anxiety attack. I can’t speak Danish, I have no idea how to get around a new country, and I only had thirty dollars in cash to my name. And the only thing I could think of to help me get through it, was calling you. I had your contact pulled up, ready to call you and tell you what a stupid fucking mistake I made. But then I could hear your voice in my head, saying ‘I know you’, and I’d never turned my phone off faster.”

“Y/n,” He sounded exhausted himself, but you weren’t going to give in to the apologies. Not yet.

“I had the time of my life there. I went to places that I never thought I’d get to see in my life. Places that my foster parents told me I’d never be important enough to go to. But I made it. I made it to Giverny, and I saw what inspired Claude Monet to paint the Water Lilies series with my own eyes. I went inside La Sagrada Familia and walked on the steps that Gaudi dreamt of. I saw everything I wanted to, and I wept every place I went to. Because I got myself there. I persevered and worked my ass off my whole life, to get there. I didn’t have any parents, I didn't have any siblings, a spouse, or children. I did it all by myself, and it felt pretty amazing to accomplish that.

“No one knows me like I do.” You finished. Your walls were back up starting to feel secure in your own skin again. 

He stayed silent for a few minutes, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. He was calculating his response, trying to formulate the perfect response to get the two of you back on track. It was exhausting watching his brain work, and you wondered how tired he must always be.

After another minute, he sighed and dropped his hands into his lap. “Beth and I broke up two weeks before you left.” The other shoe had dropped.

“What?” For the second time tonight, you were rendered speechless by Aaron Hotchner. This was not the response you were expecting, and not the news you expected to hear anytime soon. The two of them were obsessed with one another, how could they just end it?

“We ended it two weeks before your trip. She accepted a job in Kyoto, and didn’t want to string me along with long distance. But she also said she knew my heart wasn’t in it anymore.”

You stood up from the couch, not being able to sit still with this new information. Hotch and Beth were no longer together, he said all those things to you as a single man, understood what you felt for him, and still let you walk out of his office. For four weeks. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It was his turn to stand, still leaving enough distance between the two of you to continue your pacing. 

“Don’t deflect to another conversation.” 

“You’re the one that brought it up!”

He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly shaggy hair. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you again. So please, get it through your thick skull when I tell you that I know you. And I don’t mean that on a bureaucratic superior level. I know you, y/n. And just because you’ve been alone your whole life, doesn’t mean you deserve to be alone for the rest of it.” 

Your eyes started to water, so you looked away, gluing your line of sight to the wall next to you.

“You give us all one hundred and ten percent of your attention when we need you. And when I say all of us, that includes Jack and Henry. I’ve never met someone so intune to another person's feelings, who exudes so much empathy with one look and a smile. And we’ve taken you for granted for seven and a half years. Me the most.” Your eyes found his brown ones, begging you to continue looking at him. “I couldn’t have gotten through Haley’s death without you. And that is the biggest understatement of the decade. I am eternally grateful for all that you’ve done for me and Jack. But at the same time, I’m so sorry that it pushed me further and further away from you.”

His own eyes started to water, and he choked out a laugh. “What you said to Kathryn Downey, about giving yourself completely to a person and not getting the love reciprocated. I felt like an absolute idiot for not realizing that you felt the same way I did.” You closed your eyes with his confession, letting the tears roll down your cheeks. 

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you. But then Haley took Jack, and Foyet came, and the world got away from me. And I’m so sorry that you’ve felt the need to carry all our problems on your own.”

“Hotch, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Please, don’t call me Hotch right now.” He took a step toward you. “It’s Aaron, when I’m standing in front of you, begging you to just let me in.”

“I don’t,” Your voice cracked, and you rubbed your hands over your face in frustration. “I don’t know how to let someone love me.”

“I know,” He took another step closer. “You’re just going to have to trust me when I tell you I’ve been in love with you for years.”

He didn’t see the rest of your tears fall, because you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. His arms found their place around your waist, pulling you two impossibly close.

“I love you, Aaron.” You could feel him laughing with his chest pressed against your own, and he moved to kiss the side of your head. 

“I love you.” He whispered back, causing the last of your tears to fall onto his sweatshirt.

He started to pull away, just enough to get a look at your face. His eyes were no longer filled with tears, but his cheeks still glistened when the light illuminated the damp spots on his face. He brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, letting his knuckles gently graze your temple. You caught his hand in the middle of his movement, lacing your fingers with his own. You’d been dying to know what it felt like to hold his hand like this for years, when you found yourself comforting him in his office one night, lightly holding his hand in yours. But this was so much better.

“You good?” He asked, and the corners of your mouth turned up the slightest. 

“I’m good.” He traced the lightest check mark on your laced hands, causing a true smile to grace your face.

“You have a tally to see who can make me smile the most?” 

“It’s just mine. Been keeping it for years. But I’m always in the lead.”

You laughed while letting go of his hand, wrapping your arms back around his neck. His eyes flickered to your lips for a second before looking back at you. You gave him a small nod, knowing he was asking for your permission. 

When his lips met yours, you knew this was the feeling that all the fairytales sang about. He was gentle at first, slotting your upper lip between his own. It was slow, and full of love from the years of knowing one another inside and out. He bit your lower lip softly, barely there, and you slowly parted your lips, letting him trace your tongue with his own. 

All you could think about was how warm he was, how his breath was actively leaving his lungs and entering your own as if you were one person. It was all consuming, and you were grateful that he took the lead, because you couldn’t focus on anything but him.

His hands slipped under your sweatshirt, resting on the skin just above your hips. You let out a small gasp as his cold fingers made contact with the sensitive skin, but it only made him laugh into the kiss. 

After a few more moments of getting lost in the feel of one another, you reluctantly pulled away, needing air to fill up your lungs. But Aaron didn’t go far, gently resting his forehead against your own. 

“I love you. And I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to stop telling you.” You closed your eyes and tilted your head up, slowly kissing him again. 

“I’ll never get sick of hearing it.” You mumbled, your lips still grazing his own. He smiled into the kiss, which only made your heart glow brighter and brighter the more he showed you how he felt.

You pulled away first, tracing the outline of his jaw with your thumbs. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He tilted his head to the side, just enough to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. 

The tenderness this man exudes is beyond belief. “I really love you, Aaron.”

He laughed while pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad to hear that.”

You let him hold you for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes. “I promised Jack I would take him out for ice cream to make up for missing his soccer game last night.” 

“Okay,” You said and started to pull away, but his grip on your waist only tightened.

“Really? You’re just gonna let go without a goodbye?” You laughed at his fake hurt expression, so incredibly happy that you get to see Aaron in this light, enjoying his son, his life, and you. 

“I’m not about to stand in the way of Jack Hotchner and a sugar rush. That guy loves his sugar.”

He let go of your waist, but not without a light squeeze to your sides. “I know we literally just started this, but I really would like to tell him. I don’t want to keep any more secrets from him than I have to.”

You smiled at the thought of Aaron telling Jack how in love the two of you were. It made you feel complete, in a way you never thought you’d get to experience in your life.

“Tell him. As long as he doesn’t blab about it to anyone on the team just yet.” 

“You sure?” You nodded while passing him the souvenirs as he slipped his sneakers back on. 

“Aaron, he’s your son. I’ve loved him as long as I’ve loved you, maybe even longer.”

He stood up once again, that stupid smile not willing to leave his face any time soon. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” 

“Must’ve been something pretty good.” You said with a laugh, which he silenced by placing his lips on yours. You hoped the butterflies you felt now would be there every time he kissed you, no matter how many years have passed. 

“Like that.” You said once he pulled away. His dimples were showing now, and you wished that you could take a picture of him in this happy moment and remember it for the rest of your lives. 

“I’ll call you tonight.” He said and opened the front door. 

“Okay. Have fun, tell Jack I said hi.” 

“I will.” He kissed your cheek before starting the walk back down the hallway. He didn’t even make it halfway before turning around, and giving you one final kiss in the doorway. 

“Love you,” He said and gave you one more peck, before you shoved his shoulder. “I love you too. Now get outta here, Hotchner.”

****

tags: @simplyprentiss @michaelahah @ssahotchner99 @svrgicalhands @hotchtopic @unionjackpillow @philcoolson @tommhollandzxhaz @kathleenjasmine @canimarrypizzaornah @reaperwalking @inlovewithaaronhotchner @shelbymm11 @mrshotchner23 @tropicalwrites @averyhotchner @dreamy-moments @softhxtch @crazymar15 @theinsanespaceship15 @wecouldbreakthedistance @jeor @funnycuteandannoying @andherestograce @thisisntjuliana @captwilson @kennedyblair @lovelysunflowerxoxo @rcompton @iifaequeenii @iwaizumiee @mrsaaronh0tchner @abbeyannsmith-blog @becausehello @rinacriedpower @ssa-raye @ephemeral-barnes @slxtherinchxser @baueoud @lieswithoutfairytales @hug-a-bug-boo @blogmythoughts @freebanditghostcalzone @sugarbutterbailey